[SVU] [Het] [M] Descent
Title: Descent
Fandom: LO: SVU
Pairing: Elliot/Olivia
Rating: M
Setting: In the episode Fault, between the final scenes in the hospital and Cragen’s office. Definite spoilers for Fault.
Summary: They have shifted in their orbit of one another and the same force that kept them safely distant is now drawing them together. They collide…
A/N: A crisp salute to pixie_on_acid, my beta and friend, for reading smut in the line of duty. Twice. *g* This, like a number of my stories, was written for the pleasure of daisycm83. Dedicated to you, my dear, and I hope you like it.
Descent
Gravity: the force of attraction between all objects that tends to pull them toward one another. Objects held near the surface of another object exerting gravitational force, when released, will accelerate as they descend.
Olivia knows she should just let him walk away; the tide of emotion is running too high. Yet she is on her feet before Elliot is out of sight, pulled along behind him by a force she can’t name. There has always been a connection between them, always this path they follow. They never get too close, nor too far apart; they circle endlessly.
The elevator doors open as soon as he presses the call button. He doesn’t turn around as he steps in. Olivia slips in behind him just as the doors slide closed.
“Elliot.” Her voice is heavy with the weight of all that hasn’t been said. She barely recognizes the sound as it reverberates in the motionless elevator. His hands tighten on the handrail at the back, his knuckles going white. Olivia reaches out a tentative hand to touch his arm.
“Don’t,” he growls. Spinning, he punches the button to open the door. They do not meet each other’s eyes. A wave of white noise from the ward swells between them, then recedes as the doors shut, without either of them having moved. Elliot looks at the closed doors. “You should have gone.”
“I know.” Now Olivia recognizes the force that brought her here, pulling her in his wake - it is gravity. They have shifted in their orbit of one another and the same force that kept them safely distant is now drawing them together.
They collide and she is pressed between the wall and his body, the handrail digging into the tops of her thighs. His kiss is consuming - the whole world narrows to his mouth on hers. She hates the moment she has to take to draw breath, moans for that second until her mouth is on his again.
Elliot’s hands slip under Olivia’s coat and wind around her back, pulling her closer. It’s not enough. She shifts her stance, one leg between his, the other sliding up his outer thigh, encircling him and forcefully drawing him in. They have to breathe again, but she doesn’t hate it this time: his mouth travels down the unmarred side of her neck, his ragged breath hot against her skin. Her head falls back against the elevator wall; she wants to moan again, but she is conscious of the way sound echoes in the enclosed space.
“Liv.” His voice rumbles against her skin, and suddenly she’s not sure if it was her name or a command - Live - because there is a part of her that is alive in a way it wasn’t before. If only she could feel his skin, she thinks, that part would swell and spread until it was everything.
She reaches for his tie, realizing how wrong it is for Elliot to be so buttoned-up all the time; this tie is like putting him in a cage. Olivia readily releases him from captivity, recklessly shoving the silk in his coat pocket, her fingers returning to the free the buttons at his collar. One, two, three buttons, and she has what she wants - skin under her hands.
Beneath his shirt, her hands glide over his chest to his broad shoulders. She tugs him closer - no amount of nearness seems to be enough - but this time he resists. “Liv, stop.” She opens her mouth to tell him to shut up, to never say those words to her again, but then she feels the lurch and realizes the elevator is moving. Over his shoulder, she watches the numbers light up as the elevator descends. With a deep breath, he breaks contact - two steps back - and for the second time tonight, they simply stand and stare at one another. The elevator begins to slow at the third floor, and she quickly reaches over and straightens his shirt. He grins like he’s trying not to laugh, pulls his coat closed, and crosses his arms over his chest. The doors open. Olivia turns and gives a friendly smile to an elderly couple as they enter the elevator. Elliot slips over to the door panel - to disguise the fact that no buttons have been pressed - and politely asks the couple which floor.
Olivia blinks as they step off the well-lit elevator into the dim parking garage. She is not sure where they go from here, in any sense. Then she feels Elliot’s hand at the small of her back, guiding her, and she goes where he leads. As they walk down the ramp to the car, his hand slips to her waist.
&&&&&
Earlier, Olivia had been surprised by the bright sunlight when she and Elliot emerged from the dank warehouse. Though it had been early afternoon when they entered, the events that occurred had stripped all thoughts of sunlight from her mind. Now, the sun descending on the horizon is level with the moon as it rises As he drives, Elliot and Olivia sit as far apart as possible, leaning in opposite directions. It’s not defensive posturing, simply a tactic to resist the physical pull they feel toward one another until they reach their destination. In the passenger seat, Olivia smiles at the familiar route. Elliot is nothing if not practical, and her place is closer.
She appreciates his practicality even more as they go inside: his coat is off and he’s reaching for hers before the door is even closed behind them. Olivia gives it to him and locks the door behind them, while Elliot hangs their coats and his shoulder holster on hooks on the wall. He takes her hands and brings them to his chest, then leans down and kisses her neck - picking up right where they left off on their way down.
Elliot’s hands tangle in her hair, tilting her head back. She tugs his shirt from his waistband and finishes off the buttons by feel. Reaching up, Olivia grabs one of his hands, then the other, to unbutton his cuffs. She pushes the shirt off his shoulders and he lets it fall to the floor. When he draws back to look at her, his usual intensity is multiplied to a level she’s never experienced; he pulls her mouth to his. Olivia is overwhelmed by this - his kiss, his body, his skin warm under her palms. When it gets too much, she breaks away and leads him toward her bedroom.
“Liv…” Elliot stops just inside the door. She tenses, hurt by his hesitation, wondering if he can possibly doubt that this is what she wants. She is ready to tell him to go screw himself, that she doesn’t need him to protect her from himself. But he knows he doesn’t have to rescue her this time. He turns her towards him and gingerly touches the bandage at her throat. “I wanted to kill that bastard with my bare hands. But I have to make sure that you know that isn’t what this is about. This isn’t about guilt, or fear, or any of that shit. It’s about you.”
She backs him against the door and shows him that she knows.
&&&&&
As she kisses him, Olivia’s fingers dig into his biceps and God, she’s wanted to do that for a long time. Elliot’s hands tug at her shirt, then glide across the skin he reveals at her waist. She needs more of that, more of his skin on hers. As much as she is starting to despise this stop-and-go pace, she tears herself away. The clothes have to come off.
In this, as with all things important, they work together with quiet efficiency. In one quick motion, the shirts are gone. Olivia turns her back to Elliot, and he unclasps her bra while they both kick off their shoes. He reaches around her, unclips her badge and holster from her belt, and places them on the dresser while she busies herself with her buttons. Her slacks hit the floor, as do his, and Olivia steps away. She retrieves a box of condoms from the nightstand, setting them on top. Before she can turn around again, he pulls her down to the bed.
The length of his body presses against her back; he kisses her shoulder and his hand rests on her hip, pulling their bodies tightly together. She can’t remember feeling anything so perfect, but perfect is not good enough. She needs to see and touch him. He growls as she rolls away and reaches for her. She manages to turn around before he crushes her to him once again. “No more going away,” he orders, mouth falling to the hollow of her throat.
Olivia throws her head back to give him better access. “Fine by me,” she agrees. Better than fine, she thinks, as her hands roam - one skimming from the nape of his neck over the taut muscles of his shoulders and back, the other grazing the smooth skin down his side. He breathes in sharply as her fingers splay across his hip bone and dig into his skin, and she laughs.
Elliot lifts his head to smile at her, and she knows that smile. In any other setting, it would be a bad, bad thing. Here and now, she is not at all unhappy that he feels he’s been challenged. He lifts her hand from his hip and gently places it above her head, pushing her onto her back. Leaning up on his elbow, he watches her face for a moment, then his eyes follow his hand as it skims down her chest and stomach. His fingertips brush lightly across the inside of her thigh. She closes her eyes and prepares for the assault on her senses that is sure to come; she’s not wrong. His mouth reaches her breast at the same moment his hand slides up between her thighs. Her back arches involuntarily and she gasps as his lips close around her nipple. He makes a satisfied sound against her skin.
Elliot’s mouth moves lazily, tongue dipping between her breasts. Impatiently, Olivia twists to bring her other nipple to his lips, moans when he captures it with his teeth. She parts her legs and feels his fingers sink deeper into her body. “Fuck,” he whispers reverently, his breath hot on her skin. Even with her eyes closed, Olivia can feel his gaze on her. She smiles and wonders if she looks as wanton as she feels.
Slowly, he moves downward, kissing his way down her abdomen, until his tongue joins his fingers. Olivia rocks her hips against his mouth, trying to quicken his pace; he rests his weight against her thigh to anchor her, continuing with maddening slowness and certainty. She bites back a whimper before realizing there’s no point - she’s never succeeded in hiding anything from him. Her fingers claw at the sheets and her breathing becomes uneven; she moans for him. She feels as though all the energy in her body flows toward the places where he touches her. Elliot’s free hand slips under her ass and lifts her hips. The change in angle is too much - she reaches out to hold him against her body as she comes apart.
When Olivia opens her eyes, Elliot looks just as smug as she expects. She narrows her eyes, and swats at him. “You’re going to pay for that self-satisfied smirk.”
His eyes glint mischievously. “If you’re planning to spank me, you’d better get your cuffs first.”
“Get your ass up here, you pervert.” Elliot moves up by her side and Olivia begins stroking his chest lightly with her fingernails. “I think you’ve been working Sex Crimes too long.”
“No, I just haven’t had sex in too long.”
Olivia pushes him on his back and moves over him, her body pressing along the length of his. Her voice drops to a throaty whisper as she leans in to kiss his neck. “I think we can fix that.”
His hands skim the curve of her ass, then press her thighs; she complies with the unspoken demand, opening her legs and bringing them to rest on either side of his hips. Something between a sigh and a growl rumbles in his chest. “How about we fix it now?”
Wordlessly, Olivia reaches for the box on the nightstand and removes a foil packet. Elliot promptly takes it from her hands. She rises up on her elbows and knees, leaning down to kiss him as his hands slip between them. In a moment, his hand is on her hip, guiding her downward. She gasps against his mouth as she takes him in; she forgets to breathe. Elliot’s hands on her waist lift her upright, yet she remains frozen - her hips resting motionless against his. This feeling - completion - is both shocking and exactly what she expected. She needs to absorb it. The sensation builds inside her until it finally spills over in the form of motion.
She rises slowly, and lets gravity pull her swiftly down. Rising, descending, rising, descending - a steady rhythm at first, slowly gaining speed and force. His eyes are open, memorizing the lines of Olivia’s body; she closes hers, but tries to commit him to memory with her hands. She can’t seem to get enough of touching his skin. His knees bend behind her, and Olivia arches against them and shifts her hips forward, wanting to feel the touch of his thighs along her back. It’s unexpected and sudden - the way this subtle shift on her descent causes her to crash and burn. The fire spreads from her limbs; he’s burning too.
&&&&&
She watches his face by the moonlight as she gets dressed. He gave her a choice earlier: promise that she’s able to put aside her feelings for him, or get a new partner. It’s not a proposition she likes, but she knows he’s right.
“Hey.” Elliot’s voice is rough with sleep. He rubs his eyes and looks up in time to see Olivia clip her badge to her belt. “We get called in?”
She keeps her tone cool and matter-of-fact - because this is not a subject that’s up for discussion. “No. There’s just something I have to take care of.”
Elliot nods but looks from the clock to Olivia with suspicion. She smiles, but doesn’t satisfy his curiosity. She just asks, “Will you be here when I get back?”
He matches her matter-of-fact tone with one of his own. “As long as that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
He grins and closes his eyes. “Good. I need the sleep.”
Without another word, she slips out the door on her way to see Cragen.
Fandom: LO: SVU
Pairing: Elliot/Olivia
Rating: M
Setting: In the episode Fault, between the final scenes in the hospital and Cragen’s office. Definite spoilers for Fault.
Summary: They have shifted in their orbit of one another and the same force that kept them safely distant is now drawing them together. They collide…
A/N: A crisp salute to pixie_on_acid, my beta and friend, for reading smut in the line of duty. Twice. *g* This, like a number of my stories, was written for the pleasure of daisycm83. Dedicated to you, my dear, and I hope you like it.
Descent
Gravity: the force of attraction between all objects that tends to pull them toward one another. Objects held near the surface of another object exerting gravitational force, when released, will accelerate as they descend.
Olivia knows she should just let him walk away; the tide of emotion is running too high. Yet she is on her feet before Elliot is out of sight, pulled along behind him by a force she can’t name. There has always been a connection between them, always this path they follow. They never get too close, nor too far apart; they circle endlessly.
The elevator doors open as soon as he presses the call button. He doesn’t turn around as he steps in. Olivia slips in behind him just as the doors slide closed.
“Elliot.” Her voice is heavy with the weight of all that hasn’t been said. She barely recognizes the sound as it reverberates in the motionless elevator. His hands tighten on the handrail at the back, his knuckles going white. Olivia reaches out a tentative hand to touch his arm.
“Don’t,” he growls. Spinning, he punches the button to open the door. They do not meet each other’s eyes. A wave of white noise from the ward swells between them, then recedes as the doors shut, without either of them having moved. Elliot looks at the closed doors. “You should have gone.”
“I know.” Now Olivia recognizes the force that brought her here, pulling her in his wake - it is gravity. They have shifted in their orbit of one another and the same force that kept them safely distant is now drawing them together.
They collide and she is pressed between the wall and his body, the handrail digging into the tops of her thighs. His kiss is consuming - the whole world narrows to his mouth on hers. She hates the moment she has to take to draw breath, moans for that second until her mouth is on his again.
Elliot’s hands slip under Olivia’s coat and wind around her back, pulling her closer. It’s not enough. She shifts her stance, one leg between his, the other sliding up his outer thigh, encircling him and forcefully drawing him in. They have to breathe again, but she doesn’t hate it this time: his mouth travels down the unmarred side of her neck, his ragged breath hot against her skin. Her head falls back against the elevator wall; she wants to moan again, but she is conscious of the way sound echoes in the enclosed space.
“Liv.” His voice rumbles against her skin, and suddenly she’s not sure if it was her name or a command - Live - because there is a part of her that is alive in a way it wasn’t before. If only she could feel his skin, she thinks, that part would swell and spread until it was everything.
She reaches for his tie, realizing how wrong it is for Elliot to be so buttoned-up all the time; this tie is like putting him in a cage. Olivia readily releases him from captivity, recklessly shoving the silk in his coat pocket, her fingers returning to the free the buttons at his collar. One, two, three buttons, and she has what she wants - skin under her hands.
Beneath his shirt, her hands glide over his chest to his broad shoulders. She tugs him closer - no amount of nearness seems to be enough - but this time he resists. “Liv, stop.” She opens her mouth to tell him to shut up, to never say those words to her again, but then she feels the lurch and realizes the elevator is moving. Over his shoulder, she watches the numbers light up as the elevator descends. With a deep breath, he breaks contact - two steps back - and for the second time tonight, they simply stand and stare at one another. The elevator begins to slow at the third floor, and she quickly reaches over and straightens his shirt. He grins like he’s trying not to laugh, pulls his coat closed, and crosses his arms over his chest. The doors open. Olivia turns and gives a friendly smile to an elderly couple as they enter the elevator. Elliot slips over to the door panel - to disguise the fact that no buttons have been pressed - and politely asks the couple which floor.
Olivia blinks as they step off the well-lit elevator into the dim parking garage. She is not sure where they go from here, in any sense. Then she feels Elliot’s hand at the small of her back, guiding her, and she goes where he leads. As they walk down the ramp to the car, his hand slips to her waist.
&&&&&
Earlier, Olivia had been surprised by the bright sunlight when she and Elliot emerged from the dank warehouse. Though it had been early afternoon when they entered, the events that occurred had stripped all thoughts of sunlight from her mind. Now, the sun descending on the horizon is level with the moon as it rises As he drives, Elliot and Olivia sit as far apart as possible, leaning in opposite directions. It’s not defensive posturing, simply a tactic to resist the physical pull they feel toward one another until they reach their destination. In the passenger seat, Olivia smiles at the familiar route. Elliot is nothing if not practical, and her place is closer.
She appreciates his practicality even more as they go inside: his coat is off and he’s reaching for hers before the door is even closed behind them. Olivia gives it to him and locks the door behind them, while Elliot hangs their coats and his shoulder holster on hooks on the wall. He takes her hands and brings them to his chest, then leans down and kisses her neck - picking up right where they left off on their way down.
Elliot’s hands tangle in her hair, tilting her head back. She tugs his shirt from his waistband and finishes off the buttons by feel. Reaching up, Olivia grabs one of his hands, then the other, to unbutton his cuffs. She pushes the shirt off his shoulders and he lets it fall to the floor. When he draws back to look at her, his usual intensity is multiplied to a level she’s never experienced; he pulls her mouth to his. Olivia is overwhelmed by this - his kiss, his body, his skin warm under her palms. When it gets too much, she breaks away and leads him toward her bedroom.
“Liv…” Elliot stops just inside the door. She tenses, hurt by his hesitation, wondering if he can possibly doubt that this is what she wants. She is ready to tell him to go screw himself, that she doesn’t need him to protect her from himself. But he knows he doesn’t have to rescue her this time. He turns her towards him and gingerly touches the bandage at her throat. “I wanted to kill that bastard with my bare hands. But I have to make sure that you know that isn’t what this is about. This isn’t about guilt, or fear, or any of that shit. It’s about you.”
She backs him against the door and shows him that she knows.
&&&&&
As she kisses him, Olivia’s fingers dig into his biceps and God, she’s wanted to do that for a long time. Elliot’s hands tug at her shirt, then glide across the skin he reveals at her waist. She needs more of that, more of his skin on hers. As much as she is starting to despise this stop-and-go pace, she tears herself away. The clothes have to come off.
In this, as with all things important, they work together with quiet efficiency. In one quick motion, the shirts are gone. Olivia turns her back to Elliot, and he unclasps her bra while they both kick off their shoes. He reaches around her, unclips her badge and holster from her belt, and places them on the dresser while she busies herself with her buttons. Her slacks hit the floor, as do his, and Olivia steps away. She retrieves a box of condoms from the nightstand, setting them on top. Before she can turn around again, he pulls her down to the bed.
The length of his body presses against her back; he kisses her shoulder and his hand rests on her hip, pulling their bodies tightly together. She can’t remember feeling anything so perfect, but perfect is not good enough. She needs to see and touch him. He growls as she rolls away and reaches for her. She manages to turn around before he crushes her to him once again. “No more going away,” he orders, mouth falling to the hollow of her throat.
Olivia throws her head back to give him better access. “Fine by me,” she agrees. Better than fine, she thinks, as her hands roam - one skimming from the nape of his neck over the taut muscles of his shoulders and back, the other grazing the smooth skin down his side. He breathes in sharply as her fingers splay across his hip bone and dig into his skin, and she laughs.
Elliot lifts his head to smile at her, and she knows that smile. In any other setting, it would be a bad, bad thing. Here and now, she is not at all unhappy that he feels he’s been challenged. He lifts her hand from his hip and gently places it above her head, pushing her onto her back. Leaning up on his elbow, he watches her face for a moment, then his eyes follow his hand as it skims down her chest and stomach. His fingertips brush lightly across the inside of her thigh. She closes her eyes and prepares for the assault on her senses that is sure to come; she’s not wrong. His mouth reaches her breast at the same moment his hand slides up between her thighs. Her back arches involuntarily and she gasps as his lips close around her nipple. He makes a satisfied sound against her skin.
Elliot’s mouth moves lazily, tongue dipping between her breasts. Impatiently, Olivia twists to bring her other nipple to his lips, moans when he captures it with his teeth. She parts her legs and feels his fingers sink deeper into her body. “Fuck,” he whispers reverently, his breath hot on her skin. Even with her eyes closed, Olivia can feel his gaze on her. She smiles and wonders if she looks as wanton as she feels.
Slowly, he moves downward, kissing his way down her abdomen, until his tongue joins his fingers. Olivia rocks her hips against his mouth, trying to quicken his pace; he rests his weight against her thigh to anchor her, continuing with maddening slowness and certainty. She bites back a whimper before realizing there’s no point - she’s never succeeded in hiding anything from him. Her fingers claw at the sheets and her breathing becomes uneven; she moans for him. She feels as though all the energy in her body flows toward the places where he touches her. Elliot’s free hand slips under her ass and lifts her hips. The change in angle is too much - she reaches out to hold him against her body as she comes apart.
When Olivia opens her eyes, Elliot looks just as smug as she expects. She narrows her eyes, and swats at him. “You’re going to pay for that self-satisfied smirk.”
His eyes glint mischievously. “If you’re planning to spank me, you’d better get your cuffs first.”
“Get your ass up here, you pervert.” Elliot moves up by her side and Olivia begins stroking his chest lightly with her fingernails. “I think you’ve been working Sex Crimes too long.”
“No, I just haven’t had sex in too long.”
Olivia pushes him on his back and moves over him, her body pressing along the length of his. Her voice drops to a throaty whisper as she leans in to kiss his neck. “I think we can fix that.”
His hands skim the curve of her ass, then press her thighs; she complies with the unspoken demand, opening her legs and bringing them to rest on either side of his hips. Something between a sigh and a growl rumbles in his chest. “How about we fix it now?”
Wordlessly, Olivia reaches for the box on the nightstand and removes a foil packet. Elliot promptly takes it from her hands. She rises up on her elbows and knees, leaning down to kiss him as his hands slip between them. In a moment, his hand is on her hip, guiding her downward. She gasps against his mouth as she takes him in; she forgets to breathe. Elliot’s hands on her waist lift her upright, yet she remains frozen - her hips resting motionless against his. This feeling - completion - is both shocking and exactly what she expected. She needs to absorb it. The sensation builds inside her until it finally spills over in the form of motion.
She rises slowly, and lets gravity pull her swiftly down. Rising, descending, rising, descending - a steady rhythm at first, slowly gaining speed and force. His eyes are open, memorizing the lines of Olivia’s body; she closes hers, but tries to commit him to memory with her hands. She can’t seem to get enough of touching his skin. His knees bend behind her, and Olivia arches against them and shifts her hips forward, wanting to feel the touch of his thighs along her back. It’s unexpected and sudden - the way this subtle shift on her descent causes her to crash and burn. The fire spreads from her limbs; he’s burning too.
&&&&&
She watches his face by the moonlight as she gets dressed. He gave her a choice earlier: promise that she’s able to put aside her feelings for him, or get a new partner. It’s not a proposition she likes, but she knows he’s right.
“Hey.” Elliot’s voice is rough with sleep. He rubs his eyes and looks up in time to see Olivia clip her badge to her belt. “We get called in?”
She keeps her tone cool and matter-of-fact - because this is not a subject that’s up for discussion. “No. There’s just something I have to take care of.”
Elliot nods but looks from the clock to Olivia with suspicion. She smiles, but doesn’t satisfy his curiosity. She just asks, “Will you be here when I get back?”
He matches her matter-of-fact tone with one of his own. “As long as that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
He grins and closes his eyes. “Good. I need the sleep.”
Without another word, she slips out the door on her way to see Cragen.