Genre: Angst, Drama, (not really) Romance, UST
Summary: They both knew this day would come. It was inevitable.
Author's Note: This is what I get for dreaming about SVU and then watching a million eps on my DVR. :P This is my first finished SVU fic, so I hope I'm doing them justice. And I don't promote adultery - this is just one of those cases where we all know El's marriage is pretty much over, anyway. Anyway. Review if you wish. :)
Olivia pulls her t-shirt off, tossing it across the bathroom to land on the floor. As she unclasps her bra and slides it off, the only thing on her mind is how tired she's been lately, how she just wants to stand in a hot shower for an hour and then climb into bed and sleep for a week.
She steps out of her pants and underwear before turning on the shower, then stands back and rubs at the back of her neck with one hand while waiting for the water to heat up. They'd just closed on an emotionally draining case, one that had consisted of many sleepless nights in the station, gallons of coffee and short tempers all around. Once they sent the perp upstate, Olivia pushed her way out of the station, needing to be alone, if only for the night.
As she steps into the spray of hot water, everything else disappears. Her eyes flutter shut as she allows the heat to soak through her skin, absorb into her bones. She isn't sure how long she's been standing there when she opens her eyes as she hears . . .
She quickly turns the shower off and reaches out to grab a towel, just as her bathroom door opens and the voice sounds again. "Liv? You okay?"
"Jesus Christ, El," she mutters, hurriedly wrapping the towel around herself before peeking around the curtain. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I wanted to check up on you," he says, his expression serious as he stares her in the eye, not daring to look anywhere else. "You didn't answer me the first time I called, or the second . . ." He shrugs. "I heard the shower running and I thought . . ."
"I'm okay," she says, trying to hide the annoyance in her voice, but not quite succeeding. Elliot gives her a look that says he doesn't believe her. She rolls her eyes. "Look, I didn't fall in the shower, I'm not unconscious . . . So get out of here and let me get dressed." He continues to give her a look, and she lets out an exasperated breath. "I'm fine, Elliot. I appreciate your concern, but -"
"You're not fine, Olivia," Elliot interrupts her, and she gives him a dirty look. He ignores it and continues. "The way you left today . . . Something's bothering you."
"Yeah, you, right now," she says, continuing to shoot daggers at him with her eyes. "I just want to be alone right now, is that so much to ask?"
"It is," Elliot says, and Olivia continues to glare at him, incensed. He takes a step forward and she instinctively clutches her towel tighter against herself. "You shouldn't be alone right now. I know that and you know that. And I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me."
"Since when do you 'talk,' Stabler?" Olivia asks, and Elliot can tell she's pissed from her use of his last name.
"Since now," he says, his voice calm.
"Goddamnit, El . . ."
"Since I almost lost you," he continues, and Olivia's anger disappears, replaced by surprise, her features softening at his words. He takes another step forward and Olivia clutches her towel again, but is distracted by the look in his eyes and finds her fingers loosening on the cloth, only noticing when she feels cool air hit her exposed skin. She quickly tears her eyes from Elliot and fixes the towel to cover herself, even though she is still mostly behind the shower curtain and he can't really see her body, anyway.
"Elliot . . ." she says, cursing mentally at how vulnerable she sounds. She shakes the feeling away and toughens herself. "We can't do this. You can't do this." She is even angrier with herself to find tears forming in her eyes. God, what Elliot must think of her. She blinks the tears away and turns away from his gaze, adding, "Get out of here, El."
He doesn't move, just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching her. She tries to control her breathing, but can feel her temper rising again, just because this is typical Elliot. He never listens to her. Olivia flips her hair out of her face and is about to start yelling when he speaks, his tone low.
"You don't want me to go."
That's all it takes for Olivia to lose it, despite the fact that he couldn't be more right. She rips the curtain open to face him and his eyes only widen slightly as he takes in the sight of her skin, still damp from the interrupted shower, only her torso and pelvic area covered by the towel.
Her eyes are blazing and she says, "Is that right, Stabler? Well, I know exactly what you want." He doesn't respond verbally, just raises an eyebrow, daring her to go on. She keeps her eyes on him and allows her hands to fall from the towel, the cloth then falling from her body. She continues staring at him for a few more moments, before saying, "Happy now?"
Olivia swears she sees a thunderstorm in Elliot's eyes in the second before he descends on her, shoving her into the slick tiled wall. Her eyes close against the pain and she knows she's going to have so many bruises tomorrow, but she doesn't care. Elliot's mouth is covering hers now, kissing her hard and deep, and Olivia's fingers are unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, her need making her fingers shake as she finally succeeds in undoing them and pushing them down, before he grabs both her hands in one of his, shaking his head as he removes his lips from hers.
"Not here, Liv," he mutters, staring at her swollen lips. She pushes them out slightly, then runs her tongue over them, as if she knows that will drive Elliot absolutely crazy. A low growl sounds from deep in his throat as he slips an arm around her back, pressing her against him and settling his lips near her ear, saying, "I don't want you having to explain all those bruises to Cragen."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure you care about that," Olivia says, the vehemence still in her voice, even though she knows that isn't true and that Elliot could be gentle with her if she wanted . . . But he knows she doesn't want to be handled like a china doll, not tonight. She's told him as much, through the tone of her voice, through her anger, that she just needs a nice, hard screw tonight, and he's the only one who could possibly give it to her.
It's so fucked up, their relationship, everything about them, really, but no one else could hope to understand them the way they do each other. Elliot can just look at Olivia and know what she's thinking, and she knows his emotional needs better than even his wife. It comes partially from the time they spend together, more with each other than they even spend alone, but there's more to it than that.
They're meant to be together, in some way or another, and they've settled for being co-workers, professional partners, up until now. Now they know . . . things are going to change, things have to change.
Elliot has turned, has Olivia in his arms, and she's wrapped her legs around his waist and allows him to carry her to the bedroom, the only control she's willing to give up right now. In the bedroom, he practically throws her down on the bed, leaving her watching with steely eyes as he finishes undressing, throwing his clothes on the floor before kneeling on the mattress, staring down at her.
"Well, ya gonna do it or what, Stabler?" Olivia asks, maintaining her angry façade.
And with that, he's on her, kissing her, touching her, every movement making her feel alive. She moans under him, opening her legs to admit him entrance, and he presses into her, making her gasp.
As he starts moving inside her, she clutches at his back, her nails digging into his flesh, and he lowers his mouth to one of her breasts, scraping his teeth along a sensitive nipple and causing her to moan audibly. This is just what she needed, what they both needed.
When the building becomes too much and they explode into their climaxes, it is years of tension being released, and the afterglow is light, for the time being, at least.
Elliot rolls off Olivia and she turns away from him, knowing he feels as guilty as she does right now. He is still married, and they have been partners at SVU for years. They'd resisted this since virtually the moment they'd first met, so giving in now was . . .
"Hey, Liv." Elliot's voice is quiet, and concerned, and she has to tell herself not to cry. He touches her shoulder and it feels like she's been burned. She flinches and he frowns, pulling on her shoulder until she is forced to look at him again. "You okay?"
She nods, distracted, the movement a lie and Elliot knows it. He gives her a look of disapproval and she sighs. "We fucked up, Elliot," she says, voicing what they're both thinking.
He just shrugs. "Nobody's perfect," is all he says, and Olivia has to turn away again, knowing he won't say what he's really thinking, but he doesn't have to for her to know.
This won't be the only time this happens. It will continue, each time taking another slice of guilt from them, replacing it with the need to be together like this, and it won't be long before they are entirely consumed with each other, the consequences be damned.
They lay in silence in the dark, only the sounds of the city to keep them company, and both know it's already too late.