Them

"It's really you on my mind"

- Chanel, Frank Ocean

Olivia Pope is drowning.

Her back arches as she tries to reach up to the surface. Her chest burns and her lungs forcefully expand as she chokes in air. She feels as if her body is drifting to and fro between the waters, but it isn't. His hands are on her hips, anchoring her to the bed. He moves in and out of her in long languid strokes. He is in no hurry to end this.

His lips are on her neck, nipping at her in a way that she knows will leave a mark, but she's so far gone she can't formulate the words to tell him to stop. She can feel his warm breath on her ear and he's singing along with the track that plays in the background. She hates silence, and even though her moans and screams fill out the space between his walls, she always request for him to play something. They've been doing this long enough that whenever she shows up at his door, the music is already playing.

"Hmm… Fiiiitzzzz," she drags out his name.

She pulls him closer to her, needing to feel his entire body on her, like the weight of him can ground her to this world. He reaches one hand up to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth. She's biting on it so hard he fears she'll break through the skin. With his thumb, he angles her face down to him and in the moment her lips part; he crashes his lips to hers. His tongue slides in and moans into her. She feels so good. They always feel so good together.

She is completely encompassed by him. Her senses ignited by all of him. He pulls away for a moment, resting on his knees while he brings his hands underneath her thighs. He grips her there, dragging her back to him, her knees up under his arms. He hisses in pleasure as he sinks deeper into her. Her eyes roll back at the sensation of him, body tensioning up at the pleasure. The burn in her lower abdomen starts to coil and he picks up his pace. He knows nothing about her but he knows everything about her body.

She's sinking. He's pulling her down into the waters. Dragging her against her will to the bottom. Down to the darkness where she can't escape. She can't speak. She can't breathe and she has lost all will to fight. So she lets go. The moment is indescribable. Words fail. But she knows she's never felt safer. It's why she keeps coming back, even when she makes up her mind to stop.

"Olivia," His voice breaks through, calling her back towards the light.

She opens her eyes and they stare into each other. Her hands press into the sides of his face and he brings their foreheads together. He's broken too. She doesn't know how but she can recognize the pain in his eyes.

They're a sight to behold. Moving in unison, joined so tightly they look like one. Hands are all over. Lips seeking to consume the other. Sheets and pillows askew around them. He can't hold back any longer. His body shakes and trembles from his orgasm. For a moment, he rests the weight of his entire body on her as she caresses his toned back. He feels the tears wetting his shoulder before he can open his eyes.

The first time she cried, it had completely freaked him out. Frantically, he jumped away from her, examining her body. He cursed himself for being too rough with her but she protested, trying to pull him back onto her. She was fine. She felt completely undone by the waves of her orgasm that still washed over her. She confessed that no other partner had brought her to completion before. These were happy tears. Those happy tears still sprung up from time to time.

He looks intently into her eyes, searching. There is so much he wants to know about her. She's a closed book; he's desperate to read. He kisses her eyes, tasting the salt from her tears on his lips. He wants to tell her, he really likes her. That lately he's been thinking he might love her but he doesn't. He knows she'll run. So he kisses her instead, trying to communicate all the things he's never said. All the things he's been keeping in since he first laid eyes on her.

"No," she groans as he slips out of her and steps out of the bed.

"I'm coming back." He teases and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Olivia's dozing off, when she feels a cool wet sensation making its way up her body. She looks down to find Fitz tracing the inside of her legs and thighs with a washcloth. She props up unto her elbows and watches him clean her up with so much care and devotion.

"Come here." She whispers.

She purses her lips waiting for him to crawl up her body. He kisses her as he rolls her onto him. She sits up on his hips, ignoring the way his hips flex up to meet her. He's always ready for another go. She doesn't have time today. It's already so late. He focuses on her perky breast in his face. Making his hips jump to see them bounce to his amusement.

"Stop." She giggles.

"Nope." He refuses to look at her because he knows what he'll see in her eyes.

"I have to go." She confesses.

"Liv, stay. What's one night?" He hates to beg. This is not who he is but he can't stop himself.

"You know I can't."

"You always say that." He groans in frustration.

"Because it's always true."

"Ugh." He huffs and falls back onto the bed, arms spread across it.

She's mad at herself for being like this but she really does have to go. "I always come back."

He doesn't respond.

"Fitz, please." Her voice breaks.

He's being a jerk. He's mad at her but he doesn't want to hurt her. He doesn't want to do anything that stops her from coming back.

"Tuesday?" This is his way of extending the olive branch.

She shakes her head no. "Working. Maybe Friday?"

He makes a face. His hands are on her thighs, drawing circles on them. He doesn't want to wait that long. He needs her back in his bed before then. She's an addiction he doesn't feel compelled to quit.

"I'll try before then."

He wants to tell her she could always come to his place after her shift. He would cook her dinner and she'd spent the night. But he's had enough rejection for one night.

She runs into the bathroom for a quick shower. She hates washing the smell of them off but she can't show up at home like that. When she gets out, he's still in bed, playing some game on his phone. She dresses in silence. She always has to ruin the mood.

"Walk me to the door." She request.

He puts the phone down and throws on a pair of boxers.

"Thank you." She reaches up to kiss him.

"Soon?" He questions feeling like a loser.

"Uh hmm." She agrees, lips still pressed up against his. "As soon as I can get away."

One more kiss and she's gone.