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She Hung the Moon

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He has this way of looking at her with this subtle kind of tension. It’s something that perhaps the average person wouldn’t notice, or would walk past without questioning even once. But he’s curated it for her; Twenty three years in the making and still, he looks at her like she hung the moon and stars. And she has, in many ways, hung them just for him. 


She’s made sure of it over the years, to dazzle him in her own display of affection. Yes, sometimes it was brutal. Sometimes it was the softest thing he’s ever known. But most of the time, it was bright, and radiated with permanence that he’s yet to ever want to try and remove or burn away. The luminance he thought would’ve been gone after ten years apart, eventually returned as a twinkle. A glint of what once was between them, until it returned fully as what it always was. Permanence, just covered by pain and love lost.  


And now, here she stands in front of him, after they’ve laid almost everything out on the line. Almost. 


Well.” Olivia asks in that same flirtatious tone that she’s used with him many times now. Their banter, amongst other things, have changed over the years, or maybe it’s always been there and has just now come to the surface through allowance. He would give a little bit at first, then she, then he, until they were practically promising each other the rest of their lives and that nothing else would stand in their way. Without saying it, of course. 


“Well.” Elliot smirks, arms crossed in the front as his fingers wrap around his wrist to hold them into place. 


“That was … a nice second date, Mr. Stabler.” Olivia tilts her head and peers up at him. The very corner of her eyebrow twitches up and she puckers her lips to fight off a silly smile. 


Hm. It was. Are you going to invite me in this time?” Elliot asks. 


“I’ve thought about it.”






“Okay.” Elliot answers immediately, a soft smile on his face. The skin there creases and wrinkles, along with that around his eyes. 


“You’re becoming much more agreeable in your old age, have I told you that yet?” Olivia asks, taking a step closer to him so that they could reach out and touch one another if they chose to. Neither do. 


“Should I ask you why I can’t come in? Is that something I would ask twenty years ago?” Elliot asks, tilting his head. 


“Mm. No. You’re a gentleman.” Olivia smiles. Her creases come – the soft lines around her eyes and the little scrunch of her nose comes off as more prominent than ever. His eyes fall down to her hands, which are playing with the silk tie around her hips; Royal blue, which matches the color of the dress she’s wearing. He’ll admit, there’s something about her getting dressed up for him that he could get used to. They’ve been out together twice now and he hasn’t been able to get over the fact that he actually got to sit across from her and listen to her talk, laugh, playfully mock him – dressed like that. Undercover, they’ve been dressed up together, sure. But going out on an actual date with one another? No barriers on how long they can gaze? No more pretending to pretend? That was something else, and new territory. 


He’ll admit, the first time she reached across the table for his hand tonight, it caught him off guard. Elliot was almost a little embarrassed by how quickly his own hand came from his lap to take hers. The moment the side of her thumb began to graze across his knuckle, he was a goner, and weak for her, if possible, even more in that instant. Maybe he had surprised her just as much when he turned his hand to lace his fingers in with hers, so that their palms were fitted firmly against one another. He couldn’t remember holding her hand like that but only one time and it was years ago, when he called her wife under false pretenses. 


“On second thought.” Olivia chimes in, interrupting his train of thought. “If you wanted to, you could come in and I could make us some tea. Or some hot chocolate.” She suggests. 


Elliot is quiet, a grin still very much in place on his lips. 


“I don’t like tea much, and hot chocolate is for Christmas.” Elliot teases, blue eyes lit up as they lie on her. 


“Well, a girl can try.” Olivia shrugs, brown eyes cast down. “But maybe tonight you could pretend. Think you can do that, Detective?” She asks, tilting her head to the other side. 


“Undercover as a tea drinker?” Elliot asks with a soft chuckle. He feigns deep thought and furrows his eyebrows, with slightly puckered lips. “I could do that.” 


“Wise answer.” Olivia reaches into her purse and brings out the key to her apartment. She turns around, and yet, Elliot doesn’t step away from her. They’re still as close as they were when she stepped into his space first. The front door is pushed open and she takes the first step in, reaching along the inside wall for the light switch. He notices she doesn’t move fully into the apartment until the lights are on, and even when they are, she looks around as if she’s inspecting the space. 


There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach because he wonders if she does this because of him. Someone who she’s already spoke about, in great detail, to Elliot. Someone who took so much from her that maybe, even to this day, she still has a hard time reclaiming certain things. Like the feeling of safety when she walks into her home with the lights off. The hesitancy to go blindly, even with him present, is still there. Elliot wants to reach out and place his hand comfortingly on the back of her neck, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t move until she turns around and offers a small smile. One that says come in, what are you waiting for? 


Elliot pushes the door shut behind him and locks it, and he can tell, even from the little glance she shoots his way, that she appreciates it.


“I don’t like to let Noah see.” Olivia says, bringing her purse down from her shoulder and laying it on the couch. 


“See what?” Elliot asks. 


“Things that I haven’t worked past.” Olivia replies, and reaches to toss hair that has fallen frontwards over her shoulders, to behind them. She turns without another word and makes her way into the kitchen. But since it’s an open concept, Elliot stands there watching her, but reflects on her words to him. Things I haven’t worked past. Elliot repeats in his mind, and it’s then that he realizes she’s talking about Lewis, and responses to things that she hasn’t let go out over the years. Like walking into dark apartments without the lights being on first. He wonders if she does the same at night, when she goes to her room. If she walks blindly into the dark or if she sleeps with a light on. Elliot wants to ask her, but he doesn’t. 


“Do you think he’s noticed?” Elliot asks, realizing all too late that those particular word choices may not have been the most ideal. But he goes with them anyway, bringing his hands behind his back as he watches her begin the process of their tea. 


“He asked me a couple of years ago if I was afraid of the dark.” Olivia fills the kettle and sits it on the sink for the time being. She looks up at him and leans forward, with her hands resting on the edges of the counter. 


“What did you say?” Elliot asks. He knows at this point, this has led into somewhat more of a serious conversation, so he’s just riding the wave and allowing her to take the lead. He doesn’t want to push, but remain lucid enough so that she knows she doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t want to. But then again, she is Olivia Benson and she’s never done something she didn’t really want to do. She’s a headstrong woman and it’s always been something he’s not only admired about her, but loved. She matched his will, though sometimes they would cross and come apart. Be disagreeable, or unwilling to bend to meet the other. But most of the time they met, with a common interest in mind at the end of the day. 


“I told him no.” A soft sigh leaves Olivia, following her words. Elliot takes a couple steps forward, just so that he’s standing behind the couch and closer to her. Her bar, and two stools on Elliot’s side, separate them. Elliot raises an eyebrow as if to ask and? 


“He brought me his half moon night light that evening.” Olivia replies, picking the tea kettle up. She moves it to the stove, but doesn’t turn it on. 


“He’s a smart kid. I could tell that about him right off the bat.” Elliot smiles radiantly back at her, blue eyes sparkling. “And he loves you. I could tell that too.” 


“All of that in five minutes, huh?” Olivia teases, staring straight ahead at him. 


“Well, I may have filled in the blanks but. He’s got a great mom. I always knew you would be a great mother.” Elliot’s cheeks, creased, remain full from his expression towards her. Tears fill Olivia’s eyes at his words, which seem overly kind initially, but she knows that they’re warranted. She’s not the best mother in the world. She knows that. But she gives Noah her best, and that’s just as good. But to hear Elliot Stabler tell her that he thought she was a good mother meant something to her that words couldn’t express, but somehow have manifested in the droplets formed in the corners of her dark eyes. 


“You still making tea?” Elliot asks, breaking the silence that isn’t exactly awkward, but lingers around more so as a bunch of unspoken words dancing around in thin air. Olivia hangs her head, and curls fall forward. She doesn’t remain in that position long before she’s looking back up at him with pursed lips and squinted eyes. And even in the dimly lit area, he can still see the glass film that covers them. 


“I won’t force you to drink my tea.” Olivia laughs with a lightness. 


“So you lured me in here for?” Elliot teases, and she immediately throws her head back in laughter. But her laughter subsides, fading off into the thin air with all of those unspoken words. She takes a deep breath, visible enough so that he sees her shoulders rise and fall. 


“It’s a big deal, you know? To invite you in here. To be alone with you. Truly alone. I …” Olivia walks from the kitchen and into the living room. It’s there, in between the kitchen and living room, that she stops long enough to push her beige heels off, leaving them in a neat pile that almost lean against the corner wall. The height difference is more apparent by the time she comes closer to closing the gap between them than she did at the door, just minutes ago. “When was the last time we were alone like this?” She asks, looking up at him. 


Elliot’s eyes flicker over her face until he’s satisfied with the emotion he draws from it. She’s opening a door for him. It may be premature to theorize what that door is, but he wants to step inside. 


“A long time. But like this? Never.” Elliot answers. It’s truthful. She knows this. Because really, they’ve only ever been alone when they couldn’t be together. When they couldn’t just reach out and touch each other. Or kiss each other. Or do the things that people do when they feel so deeply for another human. 



Feelings are a complicated topic when it comes to them. They’ve discussed the past. The one that existed without being in each other’s lives, anyways. That past, in many ways, was easier to speak about than the past where they were in each other’s lives. Were they even ready for that conversation? The acknowledgement of what was. What was seemed like an untouchable subject because it spoke of how they became. How they became … well. That was a confetti filled conundrum, not made of one color, but many, sprinkled out over time. 


Olivia reaches for the tie around her waist again, and begins fumbling it between her fingers. It’s then that he realizes that she’s doing so out of nervousness. When Olivia notices that Elliot is watching her play with the silk material, she drops both hands to her sides. Elliot’s attention comes back to her face, to meet eyes that are still lingering on him, though less glassy than before. 


“Should we sit?” Olivia asks, her tone dropping significantly enough so that it’s almost whispery. “Or we could …” She doesn’t finish. Instead, she falls silent, and her eyes begin wandering around the room. 


“We can do whatever you want to do.” Elliot, with ease, brings his hands from behind his back. He slowly reaches for her right hand, which was seconds ago resting at her side. “We can sit and talk. Or if you regret inviting me in, I could go.” Elliot rubs his thumb against the side of her hand, but he keeps his attention on her face. Olivia looks back and forth from their hands, to his face. 


“I don’t regret inviting you in.” She says, and clearing that up, perhaps is a bigger step forward in the moment than either of them realize. Because at first, maybe she wasn’t so certain now was a good time to invite Elliot Stabler into her apartment. To be alone with him. Truly alone. But what she says next, catches him off guard. He isn’t expecting it, so when the words tumble, in what seems like an effortless little mantra, his blue eyes widen in surprise.


“And I don’t wanna … talk.” Olivia tucks her bottom lip into her mouth. 


Elliot raises both brows so high so that they appear to rest in the center of his forehead. Subtly, he releases them so that they dwindle down to soft twitches of confusion. For an instant, he thinks she may laugh at the expression on his face because he knows he might look a little goofy at her … suggestion. If he’s even reading that as a suggestion, that is. 


Elliot’s focus directs to her lips, which are full and lined like they usually are. He watches as she untucks her bottom lip and releases it with a soft plop, and he knows she must see the rise and fall of his chest in reaction to such a small gesture of hers. He kissed her lips at the end of their first date last week. There wasn’t anything animalistic about it. Hell, they hadn’t even opened their mouths for one another, which could be found to be a little funny considering both of them had years of experience when it came to locking lips. 


As he stands there looking down at them now, however, he reflects on that moment yet again. 


The way she leaned in first, and he closed the gap between them. Elliot had kissed the corner of her lips so softly that he thought, maybe, he heard a gentle sigh escape her. Then, their lips met thoughtfully. There was no clawing at each other, or teeth scraping and gasps of breath. It was sweet, and to be honest, he didn’t think their first kiss would be anything like that. Maybe his age had made him a more patient man, but he was glad for it. Because he knew she needed patience from him. She deserved patience from him. 


“You can, you know.” Olivia states, and moves her hand so that their palms are flat against one another, midair. Elliot spreads his fingers open a little and she must take that as an immediate invitation for her to thread her smaller fingers in with his. 


“What’s that?” Elliot asks. He already knows, because another small smile is curling on his lips. 


“Kiss me again.” She’s whispering now, filling the empty space in the apartment with her breathy tone. “Like, really kiss me.” She adds, looking up at him with utter adoration. And he must admit, in that moment, he’s never felt like he has her more. 


“Really kiss you?” He asks, a hint of tease weaved in his question. “Was last weekend a fake kiss?” His Elliot Stabler cockiness comes out, of course, as it does. Their hands are still midair, flat against one another, and fingers grasping. 


“Don’t you want to kiss me again?” She frowns a little. Her expression could be feigned, he can’t tell. But either way, Yes of course he wants to kiss her again. What kind of question is that? 


Elliot moves in, further closing the space between them, and she only cocks her head back enough to let him know that the sudden invasion of space was a surprise. Her feet, pressed into the carpet, don’t move though. They remain firm in place, just like their hands. Olivia looks down to see that the tops of her toes are close to touching the rounds of his loafers. 


“I always want to kiss you.” He replies. It’s honest, but comes out in such a rush that she, again, seems surprised by it. Maybe that is their dynamic now. Surprising one another with what they already, in some ways, know. 


“What are you waiting for then?” Olivia tilts her head to the side and licks her lips in preparation. Elliot goes quiet, eyes drifting up and down her face, only to land on her lips each time. She realizes that he wants her to tell him she wants to be kissed. She realizes he needs that little push, no matter how miniscule it is. “ Kiss me, Elliot.” Olivia says, her voice low – raspy from her throat being dry. Maybe she should’ve made that tea anyway. But right now, there’s nothing further from her mind than the cup of tea that never got made. It’s just him. Elliot Stabler, resting there and begging to take up thought, which she obliges without hesitation to. 


Elliot clears his throat and steps into her space one final time and with that, there is nothing left between them. The fabric of his vest tickles against the fabric of her royal blue dress, and if any other movement is made, they’ll be pressed against each other. There’s a subtle look of excitement that sweeps across her expression as she watches him lean into her. So she leans in, until their faces are just mere inches from each other. Neither have really realized at that point that their hands have fallen beside their bodies, but are still intertwined with one another. He’s still caressing the skin over her knuckles. She’s still squeezing onto him, as if to let him know don’t pull away from me. 


Reaching with his free hand, the one that isn’t holding onto hers with dear life, he moves his thumb and index finger to her chin. Their eyes are locked on each other but he can feel her lips twitch into a soft grin from underneath the touch of his thumb. “ Hm …” Leaves her in faintness. “I like that.” Olivia whispers. 

“You like what?” Elliot asks, feeling the tickle of her breath against his lips. Their noses are close to touching, bulb to bulb. Elliot moves his thumb so that it begins grazing her bottom lip. 


That.” Olivia says with urgency and briefly, she almost feels embarrassed for how abrupt it poured out. His thumb, grazing against the smoothness of her bottom lip, begins to make its way into the inside of her lip. She opens her mouth for him, releasing another breathless, incoherent sound. It will always amaze her how quickly tension builds between them, though she’s never experienced this particular moment with him. Her telling him what she liked being what set it off. Was it too soon to begin telling him how to touch her? How to kiss her? 


Elliot doesn’t think so. In fact, something builds and flutters in him the moment she tells him that. He’s wondered for years what she likes. Not just in the bedroom. But how she likes to be kissed. How she likes her hand to be held, which he already knows he has that down, judging by how she keeps squeezing his hand anytime he relaxes his. 


Elliot’s fingertips, all four of them, move to graze the side of her face and her eyes flutter shut, and only reopen by the time his fingers make their way into her hair. He slides the length of his hand into her locks, until his thick fingers are woven in enough so that she feels the warmth from his hand radiate onto the shell of her ear. 


“I feel like you’re stalling.” Olivia teases. 


“I’m savouring.” Elliot grins, earning him a breathy laugh that passes from her mouth and into his. 


Hm.” Olivia nuzzles her face into the side of his hand, and only then does she release his sweaty palm from her own, to wrap both arms around his neck and stand up on her tiptoes just enough to press her mouth to his. 


She doesn’t like to stall. 


Elliot’s hand, the one that isn’t laced in her hair, falls to her waist, where he snakes his arm completely around her and pulls her into him. He doesn’t open his mouth until he feels her open hers. What starts off as soft pecks, soon erupt into open mouthed kisses. He takes her bottom lip into his mouth, giving it a gentle nibble, and that’s enough to spark her next move. She begins grazing her tongue across his upper lip, perhaps testing the waters to see if he’ll meet hers with his own. And he does. The moment their tongues meet, and slide across one another, velvet on velvet, a moan escapes them both; Passing into each other in the vibrational key of want that neither have heard or expressed to each other. 


Elliot pulls her closer to him, if possible. Another sound leaves him as he revels in the reality that he’s now tasting her in one of the many ways that he’s always wanted to. Olivia moves her hands to the back of his neck, but one slowly slides down to rest on his chest and it’s then he thinks she may give him a slight push away, ending their heated exchange, but she doesn’t. She grabs onto the vest of his suit, and pulls him closer. 


They begin a teetering motion, back and forth with one another. She lets out a slight yelp and breaks away, however, when Elliot nibbles a little too hard on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Elliot presses his forehead against hers. He’s getting carried away, and he wonders if that’ll be the end of this. If she’ll smile and pull away. Tell him it’s okay. But instead, she comes back for more. Her lips meet his once again, and she presses her entire form against him. Elliot takes his hand from her hair, and brings it to the small of her back. She moves her hands behind her, and places them over Elliot’s, where she shifts their position down, down, down until they’re resting on her ass. 




Maybe he had read her suggestion as it was intended after all. 


Elliot hums against her lips, squeezing against the fabric of her dress to incite a slight thrust forward against him. They’re both getting carried away, and at this point? Is it so insane that they do? Is it anything but right to get lost in each other and let passion have its way, finally, after all these years? 


“I didn’t really …” Kiss. “... invite you in …” Kiss. “... for tea …” Olivia gasps in between kisses. 


“I had a hunch.” Elliot laughs, coming up for air only to say that. Their lips collide yet again, not once losing momentum. 


“If we could just, take things slow …” Olivia breathes out feverishly against his lips. Her arms are still wrapped around his neck, refusing to let go. “Easy.” She whispers. 


Nice and easy .” Elliot nods along, leaning in to nuzzle his face against hers. 


Olivia steps one foot back, bringing Elliot right along with her. He feels himself move without much conscious effort. His loafers glide across the fabric of her carpet, creating a soft scooting sound as she begins leading him somewhere. To where? He realizes, when he opens his eyes, that they’re headed down the hallway. Towards her bedroom, where the door is cracked open. He can tell it’s dark in there, but sees a soft blue hue illuminated from the corner of the room. 


Years ago, maybe he would interrupt their dance to her bedroom by simply picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way. But he realizes now that he would much rather let her take the lead. 


 To implore him to come with her, into a room where a tiny crescent moon night light glows, because the woman he loves is afraid of the dark. 

Chapter Text

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. 




  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.” 

Chapter Text

I’m gonna let you. 


Would she really though? 


Could she? 


There was something in the tone of his voice that made her want to give it a try. Place her sword down and welcome him into her space. Olivia Benson has spent so long with her sword drawn, that she sometimes forgets it’s suspended in air, awaiting anyone who gets too close to her.


But Elliot is different. He’s always been different. He’s Elliot. He’s only Elliot. Those are her justifications. Her excuse for letting him past barrier one, which is ultimately how he scratches past others that no one has ever been able to. 


The taste of her skin against his lips, he would like to tell her, is his favorite. A new favorite. Elliot remains quiet though, and the moment his mouth latches onto her breast, he feels her arch against him. Her cheek leaves its resting position against the top of his head and she looks down at him to watch the way his mouth works against her. Olivia’s head falls back the moment she feels his tongue swirl around her nipple, and a exaggerant gasp leaves her. 


Elliot.” Comes out in a hiss. 


That was the catalyst. His invitation to take control over the situation completely. Because he reaches with both hands, places them on her hips, and turns her over in one fluid motion until she comes crashing down onto the bed next to where he was sitting. Where she was standing. Elliot moves on top of her like wind, wasting no time to move from one breast to the other. And although she’s caught off guard by the sudden fall into her mattress, her hands immediately come to the back of his head to rest. To keep him in place, and let him know don’t stop. 


“That’s good.” She whispers, feeling her body take on a mind of its own as she arches against him yet again. Realization creeps in that maybe it was a smart move to lay her down so fast because the instant Olivia feels Elliot bite gently on her, her legs begin to tingle. Tingling turns into numbness, and she knows she wouldn’t have been able to stand on her own like she was just moments before. Any sound that wanted to leave her, is dulled out. Caught in her throat. Blue eyes peer up to see that her head is buried into the mattress and her chin protrudes up far enough so that Elliot can’t really see her face. Elliot’s hands begin to slide down her body, taking his time to feel every part of her as he takes her in with his fingertips; As he takes her in with his palms. 


Oh.” Olivia moans when she feels his hand move in between her legs. He hasn’t even touched her yet, but she knows, somewhere in the state that she’s in, that he’s going to just based on the placement of his hand. 


Elliot’s mouth releases her hardened peak, leaving a wet splotch behind. “Is this what you need?” He asks, his voice raspy – almost cocky. No, definitely cocky. “Do you need my fingers?” His breathing is all over the place and frankly, what she would really like to tell him is to take off his navy briefs and bury himself deep inside her. But she knows it won’t last that way. She wants her first time with him to last.




Elliot wants nothing more than to give her what she wants. What she needs. Her first response to his fingers is a jolt forward and an ungodly sound that leaves her in a cry. He takes his time exploring her. His fingertips graze against her sensitive, swollen clit. The length of his fingers spread her so that he can lap at the arousal that resides there for him. But when he tastes her for the first time, well, that’s enough to send her running up the bed. Olivia’s legs fall open, bent, with her feet flattened and toes dug into the mattress. 


“You’re gonna fall off, come back .” Olivia hears him say, and feels him tug her back down towards him by her thighs. He’s a strong man. She already knew that. But the way that he brought her back down to his mouth, and essentially saved her from hanging off the edge of the bed is oddly a turn on. 


The room is quiet, apart from the soft cries and whimpers Olivia makes every time his mouth sucks and kisses against the right spot. If she quietens herself just enough, she can hear his mouth against her heat, and maybe even the soft hums that come from Elliot. “ Mmmm …” She hears, and only then does she find the strength to prop herself up on her elbows so she can watch him. Olivia lifts her hips and girates them against his mouth. 

El …” She pants. 

At first it doesn’t seem like a beckon to him. It feels like more of what she’s been doing for the past five, ten minutes, which is making sounds of approval. But she says it again –


El …” Olivia’s voice grows firmer, and her hips come to a stop. 


Elliot pulls away, licking his lips as he does. 


“Come here.” Olivia wiggles her finger at him, and Elliot unlinks his arms from underneath her thighs so he can crawl up to meet her. She leans up just a bit further to wrap an arm around his neck and press her lips to his in a deep, searing kiss. 


“I wanna come with you.” Olivia breaks away long enough to whisper – no to gasp against his lips. “Want these off …” She begins pushing down his navy underwear, which by the time he brings his hands down to help her, they’re already hanging halfway down off his ass. She draws her legs up far enough so that she starts pushing them down with her toes, and somehow, it works. Elliot brings them down the rest of the way, and pushes them off at the ankle. They don’t land on the floor, but instead, become lost in the bed somewhere. It’ll be fun finding them in the morning because if either of them have anything to say about it, by the time they’re done this bed is going to be an absolute mess. 


“I’ve never had a woman stop me from going down on them.” Elliot teases, placing soft pecks against her lips. Olivia can still taste herself on him. On his lips, on his tongue. She groans against Elliot’s lips at his words and halts their kiss, then brings her hand up to his mouth to place her palm over it, silencing him. Blue eyes stare down at her widened as if to say what? 


“I don’t want to hear about what you do with other women. Don’t ruin it.” She snorts, rolling her eyes. 


“There’s no other woman, I was just saying …” Elliot’s voice is muffled against her hand, but she hears him. 


Elliot. Kiss me. Stop talking.” Olivia cracks a slight grin. She feels Elliot smile against her palm, and playfully, he begins peppering the inside of it with kisses. She giggles and moves her hand away from his mouth.


“Plus …” Olivia whispers against his lips. “Did it ever occur to you …” Another kiss. “That maybe when I come …” Another. “That I want to see Your face.” She repeats his words from earlier back at him, and can feel him smile against her lips. A silence falls between them as he pulls away from her to just look at her. That’s all. Stare into her eyes, which are squinted and sparkling up at him. “I wanna be close to you …” She runs her fingers down the side of his face, trails them over the side of his neck, his shoulders, until it disappears in between their bodies. Elliot can’t get a word out after that because he feels her wrap her hand around him. 


“Shit …” Elliot grunts. 


“You’re so hard.” Olivia tucks her bottom lip into her mouth. Elliot nods quickly and thrusts once into her hand. She wants him to tell her that he needs her like she needs him. It’s obvious, almost as if she’s waiting. She runs her thumb over his wet tip, and begins stroking, which incites a soft groan from him. 


Liv …” 


“The drawer.” Olivia points, “It’s in the top drawer.” Is all she says and releases his length from her hand. Elliot moves away from her and crawls to the bedside table. Admittedly, he doesn’t even know what he’s going in for. She could be having him fetch a condom. Toys? No. They’re not there yet. But when he pulls the drawer out and sees a small blue bottle of lubrication, he decides that must be what she wanted him to grab. Elliot grabs it, pushes the drawer closed and sits up on his knees. When he turns back around, he sees that Olivia has moved to lay on her pillow, and is waiting there for him – with brown eyes looking up and down the frame of his body and quite the mischievous grin on her face. 


They’re about to do this. They’re about to really do this. Elliot licks his lips and flips the cap open on the bottle, where he crawls back over to her. She immediately opens her legs for him, bending them up as far as she can without lifting them in the air. Elliot prepares for her by squeezing the gel-like substance on himself. She lies there watching him, waiting for him to have her. 


The slyness of his grin should tell Olivia everything she needs to know. He’s excited. Thinking about the moment. The moment that he’ll finally be buried without inhibition. It’s a natural instinct with her. Something he’s thought about before, and so that now the opportunity is finally here, he doesn’t understand why he wasted so much time. He hopes she feels the same way. That she’s not nervous about ruining anything with him – what they’ve built so far. But he’s hoping she's anticipating this, moving them forward, rather than backwards. 


“You gonna just stare down at me all night, Detective?” Olivia teases, bringing her arms up over her head. 


“I’m just looking at you.” Elliot’s voice is soft.


I know you are.” Olivia sings. “And?” 


“And?” Elliot laughs. 


“Come here …” Olivia whispers to him once again, and even wiggles her finger like before. 


Just because of how close they are already, when he hovers down over her, she feels him against her entrance, gliding up and down – which causes her to release a soft shutter against his lips the instant they graze against hers. Olivia drags her heels up the back of his calves, and runs her hands flattened against his lower back. 


“I need you.” Olivia’s words leave her in the same whispery tone she’s used for most of their time in her bedroom together. What he says next, perhaps excites her more than anything throughout the entire night. Because this is about so much more than the physical, clearly, or they would already be on round five. 


“I need you.” Elliot repeats her words back to him. Maybe that’s what she’s been waiting to hear. It is. She draws her legs into the air and presses the back of her heel against his ass just enough to give him a push, and as she does, he reaches down and guides himself into her. Eyes widen and gasps incite. She watches his jaw clench as he takes her, a little at a time, until there’s nowhere else for him to go. Until skin is pressed against skin. Until she can feel every single inch of him.


Shit …” Elliot’s voice trembles, and for a moment, he buries his face in the pillow beside her head. “ Mm  …” Is all she can get out, and her reaction, which seems out of her control is to arch and thrust her hips down against him; And when she does, he lets go of the lowest, most erotic moan she’s heard from him all night. “Does that feel good? God you feel good.” Olivia whispers against his ear. Their breathing is all over the place, and some higher power may want to step in once they really get started because they may just knock the breath out of one another. 


You feel so good.” His voice is muffled from the pillow, but she hears him clearly.


“Move for me. Take me. ” She entices, running her finger up along the base of his spine, up and down, almost like she’s running her hand through water, creating tides. Those tides are coming, she’s sure. The ones that thrash and beat against one another under the moonlight. He surprises her in his sudden movement, which is a quick thrust forward. She gasps out a mix of what sounds like his name and oh. His hands move down her body, until they come to stop at her hips and she draws her legs further into the air, which somehow allows him to sink just a little deeper into her. Elliot begins moving, rocking against her quickly and that alone is enough to earn him another loud cry from her. His movement, matched with each sound he elicits from her, dances together. The rhythm of his hips and the sound of her voice sync perfectly. 


They begin to roll, spin together in her bed. Her on top of him, rocking until she becomes tired enough for him to roll them back over so he’s in control. They take turns, coaxing pleasure out of each other a little at a time. They’re slick against each other, so much so that his lower stomach is actually wet. The insides of her thighs are the same, drenched in them and what they’ve created together. 


Turn over, baby.” She hears him say, and she does. There’s not much that she wouldn’t do for him tonight. She rolls without any question onto her stomach and when he reenters her again, she reaches for the pillows at her sides, and clutches onto them in a death grip. She may die, she’s decided. But he’ll go with her, and she’s never been so convinced as she is at that moment.


The headboard knocks rough against the wall as he does exactly what she told him to do when they first began. Take her. Elliot reaches forward with his hand, as he straddles her thighs, and moves the long honey locks away from her face. He leans down just enough to press his mouth to her ear to tell her things only meant for her to hear. How good she feels. How long he’s been waiting for it. How often he thinks about burying himself inside her like this. How he can’t wait to feel her come around him.

Gonna come …” She whimpers, digging her knees into the mattress. “Oh, God I’m gonna come!” She warns as her vision becomes blackened, and specks of light take over. But he’s out of her suddenly, pulled from her depths in an ambitious rage to turn her back over and do exactly what they’ve both told each other they wanted. To see one another’s face when they make each other come. He slides back inside her with an ease that could only ever make him think they were made to be joined. They’re molded for each other, every vein, curve, and velvet wall. He’ll tell her later, when they’re finished. After they see stars and roll over tides. 


“Hands …” Elliot grunts, reaching for her hands, which she automatically gives to him. He laces his fingers in with hers and holds them above her head, pinning her there. “Come with me … come with me.” He eggs her on and that’s it – he feels the first rush hit her because she bucks her hips up off the bed and holds firm against his. As soon as she clenches around him he lets go, releasing into her with a “ Uhhh …”. 


Elliot …” 


“God, Liv …”


He collapses on top of her, jerking his hips once more against her. She has one leg locked around his hip. Their hands are still intertwined, holding onto each other so tightly that they’re red. She wonders if she’ll be able to make a fist in the morning because of how hard he squeezed her hands. She doesn’t even realize there’s nail prints surrounding his knuckles. 


“I …” Olivia uses her free leg, the one that isn’t holding him into place, to rub up and down the side of his thigh. “I love you.” It’s faint. But it’s enough for him to raise his head from her neck and kiss her lips. 


“Let me stay?” Elliot asks, satisfied blue eyes locked on brown ones. “Wasn’t going to ask you to leave …” She’s on the verge of yawning. Elliot releases her hands, and in an effort to bring back feeling, she moves her fingers around. He reaches to stroke some damp hair away from her head, but bits that are stuck to her forehead won’t budge. He lowers his lips onto hers yet again, for what he knows is far from the last time that night. Or morning. Or ever. 


“Love you …” Elliot whispers, the bulb of his nose nuzzling against hers. From his line of vision, he can only see her cheeks rise with a slightness, indicating to him that she’s smiling. 


“Turn the light off …” Her voice is pure gravel. Tired. Exhausted. 


Elliot scoots onto his knees first before pulling himself from between her legs. He reaches for the bedside table and switches the lamp off, and once again, the room is dark. He can’t see her in entirety, but he can see her silhouette lying there, still sweaty and reddish. She’s rubbing her thighs together, as much as he can tell. He lies down in the space that, unbeknownst to him, will become his spot when he sleeps over and Olivia rolls over and tosses a leg across his hip. They don’t bother covering themselves. It’s hot tonight anyway. 


His fingers reach for her thigh, the one tossed across his hip, and he begins drawing patterns on the skin there. Soon, her breathing steadies and he realizes she’s fallen asleep, with her face half tucked into his chest. Elliot continues his drawings on her skin. Circles. Lines. His eyes fall down to the night light that now shines bright against the wall. 


The crescent shape of it, which he hadn’t noticed before, casts upon the wall and hangs there for her. The woman he loves, who is afraid of the dark. The woman who hung the moon for herself, so that he can see the stars.