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She Hung the Moon

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She is not but one thing in his sky, but the thousands of stars that have occupied the darkest parts of him. Yet as Olivia stands in front of him, dressed in royal blue and barefoot in his presence, she’s somehow the void itself; One in which the crescent moon night light that resides plugged into the wall casts a luminescent glow upon.

 

Elliot’s seen her before, in less than this. Years ago, in the light of a motel room. But now, he thinks, no he’s sure, he’s never seen her emit such evocativeness as she does in this very moment. Because she’s about to give herself to him, and in return, he’ll do the same. 

 

“You can turn the lamp on. Just …” Olivia reaches out, running her fingertips across the buttons of his vest. “Give me a minute, okay?” She asks, and it almost sounds childlike in nature. A call for understanding and reassurance. 

 

“You set the pace.” Elliot whispers into the dark of the room. The blue glow from the night light flickers through the flyways of her honey highlights. Part of him aches for her to take that dress of hers off and turn. Let him see her silhouette fully in the baby blue glow before flicking on a yellow light that will, no doubt, send him into a pool on the floor. He’s ready to be putty for the creature before him, and feels as though, in many ways, he was only ever meant to linger in her presence – to be enveloped eventually, whenever she gave the call. And she has tonight. 

 

I didn’t invite you in for tea. Elliot replays those words in his mind as he watches her fidget with the zipper of the dress. Olivia can’t reach, so she turns around so that her back is to him. “Can you unzip me?” She whispers. 

 

“How’d you get it on?” Elliot asks with a breathy laugh, immediately stepping close to her so he can help her … help her …

 

He’s helping Olivia Benson remove her dress. 

 

He’s helping Olivia Benson remove her dress. 

 

Elliot’s fingers move to the tiny zipper and begin to pull it down with ease. His knuckles come into contact with the bare skin there and he’s almost ashamed to admit that he can feel himself hardening just from that alone. 

 

“With a hanger.” Olivia shimmies, and he breathes heavily out his nose in response. A little half-laugh that makes her smile. The moment she begins to move backwards against him, he opens both arms for her immediately, and wraps them around her from behind. Although her dress hangs open in the back, he can’t quite make out anything visually that lies beneath it. 

 

“And maybe,” Her tone drops, “The question you should be asking yourself is how are you going to take it off?” 

 

Her words excite him. He would be lying if he said that the tease dripping from her voice doesn’t turn him on. Anything she does turns him on. Makes him want her. Makes him want to give her everything he has, until she’s crying out in wordless, incoherent little sentences. He leans forward, in effort to lure those wild noises out of her a little at a time, and places a soft kiss on the shell of her ear. 

 

Straight away, a moan. She nuzzles her back against him and shrugs her shoulders enough so that her dress begins to slip down them. It’s then, in the blue-ish glow of the night light, that he catches sight of the black straps that rest on her shoulders. The straps that hold what he’s waiting to touch in suspension. 

 

“You don’t have to be so …” Olivia begins, but releases a soft laugh. “I want you to touch me. All over.” She adds, hearing a soft sigh leave him. “ All over.” Olivia turns her head so that his nose comes into contact with her forehead. She nuzzles against him. 

 

Maybe that’s all he needed. A little push from her to let him know that this is actually okay. They’d lived so long without each other, in more than one way, that he sometimes found it hard to come out of that way of thinking. 

 

His arms loosen around her, and he brings his hands up to her shoulders where he begins pushing down silky short sleeves of her dress. She pulls her arms out, one at a time, and the dress becomes air – practically falling down off her hips in one single movement. 

 

He sighs. Because she’s turned towards the light, so it illuminates the front of her body almost in an unconscionable vividness. Where does he start? Should he run his hands over her stomach? Up the sides of her thighs – maybe tease along the straps of her underwear that rests on her hips. Kiss and suck on her neck. He wants to do that. He does. But his eyes are locked on another part of her body. It’s not the first time they’ve caught his attention. But now, he sees them, as he stands behind her looking down, in the most erotic way. Elliot’s lips fall to the side of her neck, and Olivia tilts her head for him so that he has better access. Her eyes close and she releases a low gasp when she feels his tongue drag out there. 

 

“Are you loud?” Elliot asks, breath hot against her shoulder. 

 

She doesn’t say anything at first, and her hesitance makes him regret asking such a question so soon. They’ve just gotten started, but he’s getting pretty personal. 

 

I can be.” She replies, her hands coming to lay over the tops of his. She begins to guide them, like she did in the living room just minutes before, from his side – and places them on the front of her thighs. Elliot’s fingers grip at the skin there, racking up and down as they begin to move up the front of her body. Over her black laced panties. Over the soft skin of her bare stomach. Until, finally, he reaches his destination. He takes both breasts into his hands, satisfied at how they spill over, even with the clad material of her bra. Olivia lets out a shaky breath.

 

“Do you like loud?” Olivia asks; Another soft moan leaves her lips when she feels his thumbs circling against the fabric of her bra, in just the right spots. She’s hard underneath the material, already for him. Aching for relief, that surely – hopefully soon he’ll provide for her.

 

“I want you to be loud for me.” Elliot admits, giving both breasts a gentle squeeze. Her head falls back against his shoulder and he uses the opportunity to place a gentle kiss on the crown of her cheek. 

 

You’re wearing too many clothes. ” Olivia retorts, and immediately turns around in his arms. His hands leave her breast, and come to rest on her lower back. She leans in to press her mouth to his, but he cocks his head back to playfully keep the kiss she so badly wants from him. But even in the dark, he sees her frown, and he leans in to give her what she wants. It’s soft. Like their first kiss. But the difference is, her hands are in between their bodies and she’s working on the buttons of his vest. 

 

His vest, as it was destined to be, ends up in a pile next to the silk royal blue material on the ground. Elliot knows that soon, everything on their bodies will be lying there and they’ll be bare for one another. Their clothes will pour down from them, and that final obstacle will cease to exist. 

 

Elliot’s dress shirt is next. Their lips remain attached to one another, tasting and nibbling. Soft whimpers leave her lips every time they release their latch for a breath of air. There’s a quickness about the way she removes his shirt, because as soon as the last button is undone, she’s reaching up with both hands and jerking it over his shoulders – the stiffness of the shirt, from being ironed by Bernie before he picked her up, creates a crisp sound on its way down his arms. He gives both arms a good shake, sending the shirt to the floor. 

 

Olivia’s lips leave Elliot’s mouth, and begin trailing down the side of his face to his neck. He pulls her to him, tighter than before, and it’s then he can feel his skin against hers. She must notice his change of breath, because one hand slips from around his neck, and as she places soft, open mouthed kisses against his upper chest, her hand begins to trail down the front of his body. Her fingertips glide over his nipple, over the prominent abs that reside there, that truthfully – she’s been wanting to run her hands over. Finally, she brings her hand to the front of his pants and cups him in her palm. She releases a shaky, anticipated breath because God he’s big. She can feel it. Elliot lets out a low grunt at her gesture and gives his hips a soft thrust forward. 

 

“You’re hard.” Her voice is shaking. 

 

“I need to take these off.” Elliot replies, dropping his arms to his sides, only to reach in between them and begin fumbling with his belt buckle. Olivia puts just enough separation between the two of them so she can reach down and help him remove his belt, so he can remove his pants. The belt flares out as the last loop is pulled loose, and she’s the one to unbutton and unzip his pants. Elliot jerks them down over his hips, and when he does, finally, they stand there in nothing but two pairs of underwear and a bra. She can see him, sort of, in the dark. The cool blue glow from the night light shines against his chest, where she can see curly chest hair and what looks like a reddish tint to his skin. He’s turned on, she knows this already, but she imagines if she were to reach around him and turn on the bedroom light, they would both look rather red. 

 

Almost as if he were reading her mind, he turns to reach for the light. But Olivia’s hand comes out and takes his wrist, wrapping her fingers around it firmly to stop him.

 

Not yet.” Olivia whispers. 

 

“I wanna see you.” Elliot whispers back. 

 

The room falls silent, and in the silence, Elliot wonders why she doesn’t want the light on. She’s told him about her scars. About the ones that haven’t faded. The ones that he knew, when she told him, he would someday see. Kiss over, though he hadn’t told her that specific thought. So he doesn’t think that’s why she wants the light off. Hell, he has scars too. They’ve been on the job a long time and with that, comes markings and bruises, amongst other things that can’t necessarily be seen. But as he stands there, it dawns on him that she knows if he turns the light on, Olivia Benson will see Elliot Stabler. 

 

Perhaps, that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. Not that his eyes will linger over scars shaped in the curl of a hanger, or small round ones in the form of a bad habit. But that they will see each other, for the first time, this way. She’s afraid, maybe, that it will become so real that nervousness will slip in. Hesitance, even. Maybe she wouldn’t be so bold as to tell him …

 

you’re hard. 

 

Or

 

  Do you like loud? 

 

It’s interesting to him, that a woman who is afraid of the dark, thrives in it when it comes time to be loved. Really loved. 

 

Elliot reaches out for her again, a soft smile gracing his lips. He leans into her so that his face is pressed against hers. His arms come underneath hers and he holds her against him in probably the most intimate way she can ever recall a man holding her. “When you come, I want to see your face. I want to look in your eyes.” Elliot whispers against her ear and he can feel an immediate tremble against him. She releases a sound, though it’s so low he questions its existence. 

 

“How are you going to do that?” Olivia asks, breathy. This is a different kind of foreplay for her. She’s never in her experience been this way with another man. Though, she’s not surprised. Because this is Elliot, and she always hoped if a day would ever come that they could have each other in this way, that it would be like this. Just like this. Comfortable and familiar, and that they would ease into it hand in hand, with no expectations of the other, but simply revel in one another. 

 

“Make you come?” Elliot asks, his mouth still against her ear. He kisses the shell of it, a hot breath escaping him right after. “You want me to tell you that?” His voice is low, raspy. Another tremble from her. She digs her nails softly into his shoulders. 

 

“Yeah, tell me.” 

 

“You like to be told?”

 

I do.” Raspy. Wound. 

 

“I like that.”

 

Tell me.” Desperation weaves through her voice. His fingertips graze up the skin of her back, and she shrugs her shoulders up in a light shiver. She feels him slip his finger under the band of her bra, giving it a light snap against her skin. Somehow, she can feel the energy begin to shift in the room. What’s started as soft and suggestive is beginning to shift into more erotic territory. She feels it, and knows he must, because when she brings her hands to rest on his waist, he nips at her ear ever so lightly with his teeth. 

 

“First I’m going to take this off,” Elliot begins, his voice raspy. “Then I’m going to,” He unfastens her bra, and even though she’s pressed up against him, he can still feel her chest release against him. “ Kiss you all over … starting,” Elliot goes to move his hand away, taking the bra with him, but pauses once he realizes her bra, probably the lace part of it, is hung up on his watch. “Um, hold on … it’s … it’s caught.” Elliot gives a soft jerk forward. 

 

Don’t do that. You’re going to tear it.” Olivia scolds, bringing one hand from his waist to stop him. “Just … take your watch off.” She chuckles. 

 

“Well, I can’t see.” Elliot reaches around with his other hand and tries his best to undo his watch. When he finally unclasps it, he pulls the watch, along with her bra, towards him – aiming to lay it on the dresser so the watch doesn’t get trampled in the pile of clothes at his feet. But — 

 

“Ow!” Olivia exclaims, hunching down and reaching for the side of her head. “It’s caught in my hair, Elliot!” She whines. 

 

“Where?” Elliot asks, fumbling around to see if he can find the clunk of hair that is supposedly caught in his watch. 

 

“Just …” Olivia leans into him, and reaches around to turn the bedside lamp on. And suddenly, there she is. Illuminated and clear to him. Darker eyes than usual look back at him. Flushed cheeks and swollen lips – her lip liner is slightly smeared. Her under eye makeup is on its way to becoming the same. Elliot’s eyes begin to drift down, at her now bare breasts. Her arousal is apparent, considering the rigidness that’s waiting to be touched there, deep pink and hardened. He draws in a heavy breath, his focus drifting down further between them. Olive skin, though flushed from their activities so far, makes him want to touch and taste every square inch of skin – let it be warm and inviting against his tongue. 

 

Elliot reaches forward, with a soft smirk on his lips, and begins pulling bit by bit of her hair out of the fasten of his watch. Gently, so that he doesn’t hurt her. Blue eyes flicker back and forth between his task and her eyes, which are studying his face. He’s just as flushed as she is. He almost looks sunburned. His chest is blotchy, and she wonders, once he’s finished untangling her hair, if she’ll completely lose it at the feeling of having his hot skin against her. If it’ll relieve the ache of her arousal. She watches Elliot’s eyebrows shift every time he looks down at her chest and admittedly, it gives her quite the confidence boost because she can tell, based on his expression, that he likes what he sees. 

 

“You’re beautiful.” Elliot murmurs as he pulls the last couple strains of honey curls from the watch – that still has her bra dangling off of it. He’ll worry about that later. He turns and places both bra and watch on her bedside table, and when he turns back around to face her, that’s when he really takes her in. A soft grin reappears on his lips as he looks her up and down. Perhaps years ago, if they would have done this, she would be more self conscious. Maybe she would shield herself from him. Cover her breasts with her arms and hide. But she doesn’t try to shelter her body from him – or scars for that matter, which are prominent enough to see. He pays no mind to them though. His eyes don’t linger, because the last thing he wants to do is make her feel like they’re the focus. 

 

Elliot turns his attention to the bed, which is made with beige and white linens. Her throw pillows are feminine, and of course she has multiples of them. He’ll have to tease her about that later. Finally, he turns and plops down into a seated position, and pulls Olivia to him so that she’s standing in front of him. 

 

“Are you nervous?” Elliot asks, reaching for her wrists. He turns her hands so that he can lean forward and press a kiss against the insides of them. She stares down at him with a soft smile, and eyes squinted. There’s love there. He can see it, as present as it was years ago. “Did I ruin the mood by pulling your hair?” Elliot adds with a soft laugh, placing another kiss, and another on the insides of her palms. 

 

“Maybe I like my hair pulled.” Olivia shrugs in a playful manner, staring down at him with a sly grin. 

 

Elliot’s eyes go a little wide. 

 

“I’m not nervous. Not that much. Not like I thought I would be.” Olivia sighs, feeling his hands snake around her waist. She doesn’t have to place his hands on her ass this time, because he does so and brings her forward onto him until she has no choice but to press her knee into the space in between his legs on the mattress, where an obvious bulge protrudes. 

 

“Good. Good.” Elliot’s voice is soft, but his eyes on the other hand, stare with intensity. A need to devour. “I want these off …” Elliot hums, coming to the band of her underwear and looping his index fingers through them at the hips. “Are you wet for me?” He asks, eyes peering up at her. 

 

Mm …” Olivia nods, feeling him begin to slowly pull at her black laced underwear. She feels them slide over her hips a little at a time. She can’t make up her mind if being so aroused at this point, without doing so little touching, is a good thing or if she should be embarrassed. She tries not to overthink it, but simply gives her legs a soft part when he pulls her underwear down over her thighs. She brings her knee down from between his legs to step out of her underwear, and when she does, Elliot releases the deepest, exaggerant sigh that he has all night. 

 

Jesus Christ …” He tucks his lips together and stares down. 

 

“That’s not your name for it is it?” Olivia jokes, and reaches forward to tip his chin so he’ll look up at her. When he does, she sees a sparkle so present in his eyes, that it almost makes her combust then and there. Like little stars hanging just for her there in an oceanic blue sky. 

 

Elliot scoots forward, so that there’s no longer any room for her knee to nudge in between his leg on the mattress. He leans in so that his mouth is just below the valley of her breasts. What he says next, catches her off guard to say the least. She wasn’t expecting the words to come out the way they do. Now at that.

 

“I’m going to show you how much I love you.” 

 

Olivia’s breath catches in her throat and she teeters forward just a bit and turns her face so that her cheek is resting on top of his head. She can feel soft stubble there, and nuzzles her face against it with closed eyes. When she reopens them, only because she can feel his mouth open and his tongue drag out along the skin of her breasts, she moans – and her eyes fixate on the half moon night light, which is still lit but dim. Hanging around like the real moon does in a dusk sky. 

 

I’m gonna let you.”