fic; turn your heart to me
relationship/pairing: rafael barba/olivia benson
word count: 2928 words
note: essentially Barson p0rn with little to no plot.

begin

Barba is falling asleep on his couch, the file he's holding slipping towards the floor when his doorbell rings, loudly and incessantly, causing him to jump up with a start. Standing up, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and checks his phone – it's nearly eleven o'clock at night, and he is not amused.

"Good evening, Barba," Liv greets him as he pulls the door open. She's still dressed in her work clothes, and carrying a folder of documents in one hand.

He blinks at her, head tipped to one side as he stares at her. "Liv? Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" She echoes, stepping past him, into his apartment, as he closes the door, still staring at her in confusion. "Nothing's wrong. I just thought we can go over the Hudson University case, and have a drink together."

"Liv, it's eleven o'clock. At night. Also known as a time when people go to sleep."

"Oh, don't give me that. You're still awake, aren't you?"

"Seriously, Liv. What the hell are you doing here? What about Noah?" She does not have a habit of showing up at his apartment late at night without a call beforehand, and this whole situation is really weird and really perplexing.

He thinks about pinching himself to determine that he isn't actually dreaming.

"Noah's fine, Lucy is staying over, and has been staying over for the past week. She needs a quiet space to work on her thesis, so I offered her my place," she says, her tone casual as she sits down on his couch, putting down her folder on his table.

"Okay," he says, crossing his arms. "And you want to work on the case? Now?"

"Why not?" She shrugs.

He eyes her critically as he sits down beside her, eyebrow raised. Something is definitely up with her. There's a certain sort of edgy energy bouncing off her, and she keeps twisting her fingers together, which is something she does only when she's nervous. This isn't about the case, far from it.

"Out with it," he demands. "You know that I know you better than this. Is something wrong?"

She's about to speak, and then she spots his scotch glass on the table, and an opened bottle of scotch sitting next to it.

"Do you mind if I have some?" Without waiting for him to answer, she unscrews the bottle, and pours herself a glass, throwing back the alcohol in two gulps.

Barba looks at her in apprehension. "Liv, you're really kind of scaring me."

"You're my best friend," she tells him, her eyes serious. "You've been my best friend for so long, and yet I've never really told you that, told you how much you really mean to me."

She takes a deep breath, and continues. "Because you do. You mean so much."

He stares at her, open-mouthed. This sudden declaration is not making sense, he thinks, unless…alarm bells start going off in his head; and he grabs her hands with his, his eyes serious as he looks at her. "Liv," he begins carefully. "Are you ill?"

She frowns. "What? No!"

"Then…?"

"Do you have nothing to say in response to what I've just told you?" Her tone is carefully neutral as she looks at him.

"Liv, you know you're my best friend, too, but what I don't understand is, why are you telling me this at eleven o'clock at night?"

Now she looks exasperated. "Are you being deliberately dense?"

He looks at her, and then something seems to click. But he holds back, he doesn't want to assume, because if he assumes wrongly, he's going to end up looking like a complete idiot.

She studies him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something but when he remains quiet, she lets out a sigh, and tightens her hands around his.

She leans in, and kisses him.

Oh. Oh.

He gets it now. He totally and completely gets it, as he tilts his head to kiss her back, letting go of her hands so his arms go around her waist to pull her closer to him. She slides her hand to the back of her neck as she opens her mouth to him, and he deepens the kiss, coaxing her tongue to meet his.

Her tongue explore the caverns of his mouth, and he tastes the scotch she had drank just now, and he tastes her, and he thinks he's starting to lose his mind. He can't remember the last time he had a kiss that evoked this kind of feeling, the feeling that he never wants this kiss to end.

It ends when they both feel the need to breathe, and he pulls away, breathless, and he sees her looking at him, really looking, in a way he hasn't noticed before. He can't help the smile that forms on his face, as he brushes back her bangs from her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Not that I'm complaining," he murmurs. "But what brought this on?"

"Because I'm not getting any younger," she tells him.

"That's good, because neither am I," he says.

Liv rolls her eyes, but she laughs, and then she kisses him again, much more heatedly than before. She tangles her fingers in his hair as she sucks at his tongue, and his fingers slipping under her blouse, touching the warm skin of her hips.

Barba shifts, falling back onto the couch and pulling her down with him, never breaking the kiss as his hands inch up further up her back under her blouse. She knows where this is going and she doesn't want to stop it, after all, she's the one who wants this. She slips her leg between his, and then she's pretty sure that he wants this, too.

It's been a long time since he's been with someone who mattered, he thinks. His sex resume for the last couple of years (since he moved to New York and met her) contains of a few one-night stands and three very short-lived relationships (he isn't even sure he could call them that). Of course, he can attribute that to his job, and say that he's simply too busy to have a relationship, but now he wonders whether it is because no one could really measure up to her.

Now that he stops to think about it, they're good for each other. They fight all the time, she's stubborn and he's sarcastic, but she likes his honesty and he admires her fire, and they respect each other, and they trust each other.

Barba finds himself wishing they had done this much earlier, and not to have wasted all that time.

Liv rocks again him lightly, and he swallows a faint moan. His hands roam her back under her blouse, and he moves to her covered breasts, tracing the outline of her bra. She reaches behind her and unhooks her bra, and his hands find her bare breasts, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger as she moans into his mouth.

Her hand drifts downwards, resting at the front of his pants, and he feels himself responding immediately, able to feel the heat of her touch.

She sits up, pulling him up with her as the need to breathe forces them apart again. She looks at him, and a small laugh rises in the throat as she looks at how disheveled he is, his hair all mussed from her running her hands through it, his shirt askew, his pupils blown wide and his eyes are a dark, dark green. She doesn't suppose she looks any better, her bra undone, her blouse in a disarray and her lips swollen from his kisses.

"Is this…" he begins, and her heart melts at the uncertainty on his face – since when is Rafael Barba unsure of himself? "Is this okay?"

She laughs, and by the way of an answer, she fuses her mouth to his, pressing against him as she winds her arms around his neck.

Their first time is not going to be on the couch in his living room, he thinks, as he stands up, still holding her. Liv clings onto him, hooking her legs around his waist as he cups her ass. It's unceremonious and graceless how he manoeuvres them down the hall to his bedroom, almost banging them against every wall and table on the way just because he's so preoccupied with kissing her, the taste of her. She holds on to him, kissing him like she's unconcerned with the environment as long as she's close to him.

Barba is relieved when they finally reach his bed, if just to not be standing up and moving anymore. He eases her down on his bed, she lands on her back and pulls him towards her, one leg flung between hers as his erection finds friction on her inner thigh.

She tugs at his shirt, and swiftly, he removes it as she removes her blouse, and her bra. His breath hitches as he looks at her. She's perfect, he thinks, and every scar, every mark, just reminds him of how amazing and brave she is, and that she's with him right now, in his bed.

Suddenly self-conscious, Liv shifts her arm across her breasts, partially obscuring her chest, but he shakes his head and moves her arm, his eyes locked on hers.

"You're beautiful, Liv," he says, his voice low. "Every single inch of you."

He lowers his head, tracing his lips over her scars, his fingers gentle on her skin. He cups her right breast, and his lips close around her nipple, sucking gently, and then harder as her nipple peaks on his tongue. She lets out a high pitched moan, curling her fingers around locks of his hair, arching her breast into his mouth.

Should've known his tongue would be talented outside of the courtroom, she thinks, her mind hazy with desire as he licks and sucks at her sensitised nipples.

His hands have moved towards the waistband of her slacks, deftly undoing the button, and the zip, as he pushes them down her hips, down her legs, and discards them at the side of his bed. He slides his right hand into her panties – there's no hesitation, no obliviousness to his movements – Barba knows what he wants, and what he wants is her.

His fingers probe into her slick, wet, heat, and then she feels a finger slips within her, and then another one, pressing into her, stroking her. Her body is completely responsive to him, pushing back as he feels her on the inside. He twists his fingers, and curls them inside her, moving them in and out. His tongue on her nipples begins to mirror the actions of his fingers, and her head falls back onto his head, eyes closed, lost in the pleasure he's giving her.

She's close, so close as his fingers manipulates her, teasing her clit, and she's about to go over the edge when he stops, and withdraws his hand. She whines in protest, opening her eyes to see him smirking at her. It's clear that he isn't about to let her come with just that, but then he licks his fingers, tasting her with that knowing look in his eyes, she nearly goes over the edge anyway.

But it's her turn now, she thinks, as her hands find the front of his pants, unbuttoning them and soon his pants join hers in a heap on the floor. She rolls them over, reversing their positions as she pins him to the bed, smiling smugly at his mildly surprised expression. She leans down and kisses him, hard, as she pulls off his boxers, her hand encircling his erection.

He moans into her mouth, feeling himself hardening further. She moves her mouth to his neck, grazing her teeth on his throat, and soothing the nip with a lick as she moves down his body. Her thumb rubs the tip of his erection, and before he even realises it, her lips close around him. He groans, low and guttural, and she smiles to herself, loving the fact that she is making him feel this way. Her mouth is like heaven, hot and wet and moving and his hand is in her hair instantly, pushing it out of her face as she takes him in and out.

"Liv," he gasps, his other hand fisting around his bedsheet to keep from being rough with her. "Oh, God, Liv."

She feels the heat coiling in her stomach, hearing him say her name, in a tone raw with lust. She's never heard him like this before, and she thinks she will get used this.

She pulls back, tonguing the head and he almost breaks out in a sweat from the effort of holding back. It feels so good, but he doesn't want it to end yet, especially when she cups his balls in her palm and gently rolls them. Then she sucks him back down and he groans out loud.

He curls his hand around hers, and with a lot of effort, he rests his other hand on her head. "Stop," he manages, breathing hard.

She looks up at him, letting him go, but she keeps her hand wrapped around his erection.

"Come here," he whispers, tugging her up and she obliges, pressing against him, her nipples rock hard against his chest as he kisses her hard, sucking her bottom lip and sweeping his tongue on the roof of her mouth.

His fingers slip into her warm heat once more, and she shudders in pleasure.

"Protection," he murmurs. "Top drawer."

Somehow, she manages to push herself up, stretching towards his bedside table and removing a box of condoms. She removes one, and he sits up, reaching for it, but she smiles, and tears open the foil packet.

She keeps her eyes on his as she rolls the condom over his erection, loving how his eyes darken with desire when she touches him.

Slowly, she guides him into her, and sinks down on him, closing her eyes, biting on her lip as she takes him all the way in, allowing herself a moment to adjust to the feel of having him inside her. Barba moans and grabs her into her hips as she begins to move, unhurried and leisurely, and she starts rocking back and forth sharply, taking him in deep.

She's leaning over him, her hair in wild, sweaty tangles, and he reaches up for her face, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. She smiles and leans down, kissing him deeply, gasping when he takes advantage of their new position to snap his hips, gently at first, and then harder, until she's pushing back for it.

Barba sits up, and then flips her on her back, keeping himself inside her, laughing as she lets out a short gasp of surprise. He starts thrusting again, moving in and out of her in long, hard strokes, as she groans in ecstasy, wrapping her legs around his back so he can push in deeper.

He slows down for a moment, leaning down to press his lips against hers, caressing her right breast, rubbing her nipple, and then he increases the intensity of his thrusts. She feels so good, so hot, clenching around him, and he pushes deep enough to hit her sweet spot.

She's very close, teetering on the edge, and he can tell. He reaches down between their bodies and rubs her clit, bringing her closer still.

"Look at me, Liv," he commands, and she does, fixing her brown eyes on his green ones, and he can feel himself coming close to his own release.

He nibbles her earlobe, and breathes in her ear. "Say my name."

"Rafael," she gasps, finger digging into the blades of his shoulders, as her climax builds. "Rafael, oh God, Rafael!"

That is his undoing, hearing her shout his name in that needy, breathless tone as she climaxes, and he's there with her, almost seeing stars as his pleasure blinds him, as they both ride out their orgasm.

He collapses against her as they try to regain control of their breathing and their heartbeat. He pulls himself out of her, getting rid of the condom quickly, and settles down beside her again. His hand found her side, pulling her body over to face his as his fingers traced along the bare skin of her shoulder.

He feels like as if he's seeing her for the first time, Liv – his Olivia, who has always been right there, right in front of him.

She hooks her leg around his, arm snaking around her waist as she sighs.

It's not surprising at all that it doesn't feel awkward, doesn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, it feels perfectly natural, as if they have been doing this for ages. Perhaps they should have been doing this for ages.

He's already imagining a life with her, and the little boy that he has grown to be extremely fond of. They'll still squabble, and fight, and argue, because that's them, that's what they do, but for the rest of it, it'll be easy because he already knows her, just like she knows him.

"I forgot to say just now," she pips up, breaking the silence between them.

"Hmm…?" he murmurs, toying with a lock of her hair. "What is it?"

"I think I kind of love you."

He laughs, and presses a kiss on top of her head. "That's good, because I know I kind of love you."

end

? Yeah, I don't know either. I have delved into the world of writing porn without plot. Yay me.

Please don't brick me.