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Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets, her head nestled between his neck and his shoulder, his chin resting on her head and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her as close as possible. They were down from their high, resting on one another – enjoying this closeness that was only possible after sex.
Olivia breathed in his scent, so uniquely him, and for the first time in years, she felt home.
She usually didn’t allow herself this after a hook-up. People often talked about how sex was the most intimate thing people could share, but she never fully agreed with that. For her, being with someone was often just a stress reliever, a way to let go of the tensions of her job and to find pleasure. Sometimes, she just needed a good fuck after spending weeks stuck at the precinct or after a particularly harrowing case. She gathered sex could be something intimate, with the right person, but the act in itself, without feelings blurring her thoughts, well, it was just sex. This, though – the quiet moments after – it was so much more intimate than sex on its own.
Lying tangled with the other person, their bodies pressed together, each of their movements echoing in the other, their breaths matching – this was real intimacy. This is where she felt most vulnerable.
That’s exactly why she didn’t allow this to happen. That’s why when she’d hook-up with a date or a random guy from a bar she would stand as soon as they were done, go to the bathroom, clean up, and gently ask for the other person to leave. She made it clear she didn’t want company for the night, that she enjoyed sleeping alone, and told them to not be there once she was done in the bathroom.
But this was different.
This wasn’t any man – this was Elliot, for fuck’s sake. Her partner. The person who’d had her back for years, who’d taken care of her even when she insisted she was fine, who’d seen her at her lowest points. And though it frightened her, she allowed him this intimacy. She’d known the moment he closed the gap between them, kissing her with all he had, hands roaming around her body as they made their way through her apartment, eventually tumbling into her bed – that she wouldn’t be able to kick him out like she did with other men. That if he asked her anything, she’d tell him, completely and unprompted.
She was too drained after their blowout, after Computer Crimes and Oregon and fucking Dani Beck, to push him away, to even question if this was a mistake. It terrified her in a way she didn’t think was possible – made her nauseous and shaky – and she couldn’t stop herself from thinking that if this didn’t work out it would blow up in their faces and there wouldn’t be any possibility of turning back. They’d barely found their footing as partners after everything, and now they were here – sharing this moment she’d promised long ago she wouldn’t let herself indulge in.
Still, she relished in his touch, in the feeling of his body, his warmth next to hers. His heart beating against her chest, giving her a sense of security she’d never felt with any one else. One of his thighs rested in between her legs, and any time one of them moved, she trembled slightly, though not from anxiety. His thumbs rubbed circles in her hips in a gentle but pressing manner, as if he was making his presence known, and it sent shivers through her body. It had been a long time since she’d felt so peaceful after sex.
Usually, the men she dated just scratched the itch, helped take off the edge. Sometimes, they didn’t even manage to get her off, and she was the one who had to finish the job. Others, though more rarely than not, actually knew what they were doing, and she tried to make the most out of her time with them. Even then, there often seemed to be something missing.
With Elliot, though, she felt at bliss. Years of yearning and pining, of unresolved sexual tension had turned everything into more. Every touch, every kiss, every whisper, every single thing had been heightened with him, and she had no idea it would’ve been this intense. She had wondered about it, sure, imagined it would be better (and also panicked a bit that maybe it would be absolutely terrible and she’d just created something wholly unachievable in her head), but she hadn’t expected this – this feeling of relief and satedness and calmness that overtook her.
And now, laying next to him, she could almost cry at how good she’d felt. She was aware of the tiredness in her body, her eyes closing as she fought to keep them open, her breathing going steady. She knew she needed to clean up, to go to the bathroom – her years as a detective in SVU had taught her more than enough – but she simply didn’t have the strength to leave her bed. She felt safe and comfortable and she didn’t want to lose it. So, when Elliot slowly started to pull away, she whimpered.
Gosh, she was so fucking screwed.
¨I’ll be right back, baby,¨ he whispered gently, pressing a kiss to her temple and disentangling himself from her, almost shattering her with just how soft he was being.
She knew, of course, that he could be soft. She’d seen it with his kids, with the children and women they worked with, and with her. But this was different. It wasn’t him being paternal or taking care of people at work – this was him in a domestic setting with her – and it scared the crap out of her while simultaneously making her blush and her eyes sting. She’d never felt this cared for in her life, especially not in this setting.
The few relationships she’d had – Burton, when she was sixteen, and Billy, at college – hadn’t been like this. They cared for her, yes, but not like this, and she never gave her one night-stands the opportunity to even try.
Elliot did come back a few seconds later, a cloth in his hands.
¨Liv, gotta clean you up,¨ he tucked her hair behind her ear, threading his fingers through the strands and running his fingers through her scalp, sending shivers all through her body.
¨Hm?¨
¨Your legs, baby, don’t want you getting an UTI.¨
She opened her eyes, looking over her shoulder, and she blushed as she understood, ¨You don’t need to do this, El, I’ll just–¨
¨I know I don’t need to,¨ he pressed a quick peck to her mouth, ¨I want to.¨
Reluctantly, she let him, and her breath caught at the contact.
¨You okay?¨ He asked, brows furrowed and a worried expression on his face.
¨Yeah,¨ she flushed, ¨just sensitive.¨
And Elliot fucking Stabler smirked.
¨Oh, fuck you,¨ she mumbled, hiding her face in her pillows.
¨You already up for another round?¨ and she knew he had that stupid smug look on his face.
Just as she lifted her head to glare at him, the mattress dipped with his weight, and he was again by her side, pulling her to him. They were facing each other, his arms around her waist, and one of his legs between hers. As she met his eyes, she became overwhelmed by what she saw in them, and felt herself flushing yet again, drifting her gaze from him and tucking her head beneath his chin.
¨Never would’ve thought you’d be shy about this, Benson,¨ he teased, and god, sometimes it surprised her how much he knew her, how he always said just the right thing to get her out of her head.
¨If I remember correctly, I wasn’t exactly shy,¨ she fired back, cocking one eyebrow at him and revelling when he blushed.
¨Then what’s this about, Liv?¨ He asked softly, pressing her closer to him. Just like that, the playfulness was gone from his tone and she felt completely exposed. Of course, she was exposed to him – their clothes lay discarded around the apartment floor – but this was so much more. She felt as if her thoughts and feelings were displayed in front of him, as if the walls she’d fought so hard to keep up were now useless against him. It shouldn’t have rattled her this much, after all, if there was one person who could always read her, it was him.
She let out a deep breath before tucking her head against him once more, in an attempt to avoid the conversation.
¨Liv,¨ he whispered, placing one of his hands to her jaw and lifting her head in his direction, resting his forehead against hers, ¨talk to me.¨
¨It’s stupid,¨ she mumbled, keeping her eyes down.
¨It’s not if you’re like this,¨ he replied, his thumb stroking her jaw.
A minute passed, but he remained quiet, giving her time to process. ¨I’ve never had this,¨ she muttered, ¨and it’s just…¨ she sighed, ¨I don’t know.¨
¨What haven’t you had, Liv?¨
¨This,¨ she whispered, a bit exasperated, ¨I don’t do this,¨ she met his eyes, and she could see the confusion behind them. ¨This… laying in bed after, the comfort, the tenderness,¨ she explained, ¨it’s too much. It’s… I feel like you can see me, all of me, and… it scares me, El.¨
¨Do you want me to go?¨ he asked, though in no moment he let his grip lighten.
His words made her go rigid. As much as she was nervous about this – whatever it was between them, and the fact that she allowed him to comfort her in her bed – the idea that he would leave was suddenly much more harrowing than she’d imagined.
¨No, no,¨ she told him quickly, her eyes burning once more, ¨but I don't know how to do this, El. I don’t.¨
And that’s when he understood. This wasn’t about sex or comfort or their partnership and what would become of them. This was about Olivia not trusting herself to be vulnerable around others, about Olivia allowing him in after everything they’d gone through.
¨I’ve always seen you, Liv,¨ he reassured her, ¨we didn’t need to end up in bed for me to see you, though I have no complaints whatsoever about being here,¨ he said, a satisfied smirk on his face.
She rolled her eyes, a weak laugh escaping her, though.
¨I don’t really know what to do either, Liv. It’s not like I’ve had much experience,¨ he remembered her, ¨we don’t need to have everything figured out now.¨
¨Yeah?¨
¨Yeah, just… let me be here. And we’ll see how it goes, okay?¨
¨Okay.¨
¨And you let me take care of you,¨ he added.
¨Elliot–¨
¨It’s non negotiable.¨
¨You already take way too much care of me.¨
¨At work.¨
¨Exactly.¨
¨Not here, not like this.¨
¨Elliot, really–¨
¨You said you’d never had this, Liv, but now you do,¨ he told her in a serious manner. ¨You have this now, you have me, so… let me. Let me be here, let me take care of you.¨
Olivia felt her body thrum at what he was saying, at what he was asking. Because god knew how much she wanted it. She focused on his words – we don’t need to have everything figured out now, we’ll see how it goes – and she let herself relax, just a bit. She couldn’t help herself from thinking there was a huge chance that this was going to implode in their faces, that Cragen would be pissed, that they would suffer with the consequences, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her head, at least for the moment.
¨Okay,¨ she told him then, her voice barely a whisper.
¨Okay?¨
¨Yeah, El, okay.¨
And she allowed him to press her even closer to him, she leaned in when his lips met hers, she him kiss her neck and whisper sweet nothings to her as she faded to sleep, aware of every point their bodies were touching, aware of how one of his hands ran up and down her back and how he threaded his finger through her hair with the other. She lay pressed up against him, anxious and unsure about what was to come, but relishing in the intimacy of the moment, utterly caught up in him. She could be vulnerable with him, she mustered, because this was Elliot and she trusted him with her life. They had to start somewhere, and she guessed starting there was alright.