Disclaimer: Despite the blazing scene constantly running through my head, Olivia and Elliot are, unfortunately...not mine...they belong to Dick Wolf.
Author's Note: I hope therating is okay...I was almost not going to post it here for fear of it being rejected for its content...but it's barely explicit. I wrote this in the car while listening to 'Everything Will Be Alright' by The Killers awhile ago (I entered this fic on another site during the summer). I suggest listening to it if you can while you read the story.
Playing with Fire
Turn. Hide. Glare. A clandestine gleam of mischief and passion beneath two focuses of light. One step from the stool as heavy marks are made on the small dancing floor, worn from all the past impressions that have been made upon it. His imprint burns into the rough cement serving as a floor as his whole body lifts completely from the bar stool. The only person that sees his departure is the next lonely man who quickly steals his seat. Plastic tingles from unsatisfied relief.
The room is humid and awaiting only more heat. Drinks buzz around the room as quickly as they are devoured. He is almost scared at the realization that the drinks he has had have barely affected him and that his excursion across the room is done with full consciousness.
Eyes scan the room for only another moment before the red costume of desire zooms into view. Fabric dances over distinctive curves and emphasizes the graceful figure it sits upon. Red has always meant passion and desire. Tonight it was the fire developing and coursing through him. Directing him. Impelling him towards the gasoline awaiting the inflammation soon to come. The holocaust about to occur.
The music slows to the sensual beat of a wanna-be techno song. Despite the cliché lyrics, the instrumental background is the most sensuous he has ever heard. There is a barely distinct swivel in his step.
Backs against the wall. Hands roaming and exciting. Bodies twist and combine. No measure of space exists. Fabric against fabric, rubbing almost violently to create the ultimate physical friction. The disguised woman in red holds her arms around the enemy's neck as she grinds her lower body lightly against his. Elliot notices that the man isn't responding the way she would like. She almost unnoticeably gives up her ministrations. From across the room he hears her sigh in defeat and from unsatisfied need. The sigh only spurs his courage.
Finally bored with staring at the man's dried lips receding from hers, she looks wistfully around the crowded room. Her date turns her around so that her back now feels his late reaction to her. After a few seconds staring at nothing, her heated gaze sweeps over the rest of the bar as her feet dance to the strains of music above her. She is almost amazed at the level of intimacy enveloped within the small room. Clothes indicate practically nothing as little is left to imagination.
He notices her body tense and he knows she sees him. Their eyes meet and he looks away after a few seconds of staring. He turns to a woman beside him whom he noticed had been paying particular attention to him earlier on. He starts to dance with the young blonde, sexual advances stirring in the air. Innuendos clear and fervent.
He catches Olivia's eyes across the room once more. This time he focuses his eyes on hers while never looking away. Each continues the seductive dance with their dance partners but they never take their eyes off each other.
Usually it would have been an awkward meeting if they were at the same place at once. They might wave, say hi, and let each other be. Discomfort palpable despite their closeness as partners. But when their eyes met for the first time that night they both knew that it was different this time. Want and need were never again different. Words were unnecessary. Seduction is imminent.
Tacit consents hover between them as they both continue dancing. Olivia's eyelids slip half closed and her knees weaken as the man across the floor wets his lips and trails his fingers down the other woman's back as he consumes her with fire lying behind his eyes. She can take it no longer as her eyes fully close.
Eric spins her around so that they are facing stomach to stomach once again. She sighs softly in frustration for the need of Elliot's eyes to continue their heated journey across her face and body. She partially slumps against Eric, finally realizing that Elliot's lost gaze and the feeling of the wrong man's hands on her have taken all of the energy out of her. She falls into the music as she tries unsuccessfully to fill the hole his eyes had bored into her.
A light smile graces her face as the familiar smell of her partner seems to rush up from behind her. His deep voice flows with the music, its waves sending her heart beating faster and her blood boiling beneath her skin. She barely notices as Eric hesitantly leaves her and heads toward the bar while still keeping his eyes on Elliot. She doesn't dare turn around. She doesn't need to. Instead she just closes her eyes as she relishes his presence behind her.
She relinquishes the breath she was unaware of holding when she feels his first touch on the back of her neck. She jerks suddenly, slightly, from the pulsing heat coming from the back of her neck as it tears through her. His finger slowly trails down her neck and back, stopping at the small of her back. Her breath catches abruptly as his breath slowly, painfully, meticulously, follows his finger's path down her skin. He breathes against her up until the point that her dress starts. He makes his way back up with his lips brushing against her silky skin. Meanwhile his hands make their way to her hips as they sweep almost unnoticeably up and down her side, his thumbs running circles wherever they land.
He makes his way back up to her neck and takes a chance. His teeth and lips nibble softly on the side of her neck. She moves her head the other direction and lays it on his left shoulder to give him more access. She raises her arms to form a circle around the back his neck as he continues to play with hers. He breathlessly whispers her name into her ear as he nibbles on the lobe beneath. His voice creates rivulets of desire in the deep pit of her stomach.
She can't take not seeing him anymore so she turns in his arms, her own arms remaining laced behind him. She slowly opens her eyes to find him watching her intently with the undying affection and passion of a long lost lover. She leans her forehead against his as they keep up the staring match, his hands never failing to roam her back. Stepping to a dance they have prepared for for years.
After a few moments processing that the illusion is reality she decides that she in turn has to be the source of his satisfaction. She comes in close as her body collides with his, painful pleasure ripping through them both.
With crimson fabric beneath his hands he relishes the feel of her with his fingertips. She grinds into him and silently applauds herself with the reaction she acquires from him; an almost silent groan emerging from the back of his throat. She takes her chance as his head falls slightly backward and her lips sweep across his neck down to his collar bone. Once out of breath she lifts her head to look at him again.
Foreheads once again supporting each other, Elliot lets go of her left side and spreads his thumb languorously over her bottom lip. He continues his thumb's adventure until he has run through every crevice and path of her face. His fingers make their way back to her mouth as she kisses them delicately, lovingly. He reluctantly pulls his fingers back in hope for his lips to touch where only his fingers have explored.
They are so close that their lips are a mere centimeter apart, their breath exiting one mouth and entering the other. Hands journey and bodies connect. The two meet suddenly, slowly. First only lips touch, leaning against each other. Lips close around each other and explore the slick feeling eliciting from the connection. Finally tongues ache for contact. The battle between the two tongues is harsh and fierce, even though they collide slowly and methodically. The ballet comes to a climax before their breathe starts to run out. The war has just begun as earths shatter and souls melt. Smooth and rough skin intertwine and clash with too much clothing.
The song ends and fingers burn with anticipation. They both know that this is no place for what they need to quench the undying fires blazing within. Mere touches would not be enough. Their bodies unglue while only their hands remain touching. They hold hands as they weave out of the crowd. Their synchronized footsteps pave the way through a stream of gasoline, igniting their way out the door and into the night. The night sure to await the scorching conflagration of undying lovers.
Finis