A/N: Just a quick one-shot. I don't own SVU or its characters. Enjoy.
They fucked each other for the first time on the couch in his office.
Face-to-face, toe-to-toe, angry breaths mingling in the inches between their lips. An argument brought her here and her anger only intensifies the longer he refuses to give in or back down like she wants him to.
There's something there. It's always been there and it's been growing in the past couple of months. The closer they get back to themselves, to the friendship that was lost when Tucker became a part of her life, the more it gains strength and bubbles under the surface of their skin.
It's finally had enough this night, because she kisses him and he kisses her and their clothes are pulled off or pushed aside. They fall on his couch together, her on top and they have sex. It's late and it's loud and hot and everything they'd both been needing for so long. It's fulfilling. It's also highly unprofessional and incredibly overwhelming once they realize the line they crossed.
They agree to never speak of it again, because their friendship and working relationship is too important to throw away on a fling. It was a one-time thing and always would be.
Until they fuck again, in her office this time, on her couch. It's late, again, but this time, they weren't arguing. They were having a friendly conversation over some drinks after a hard-won trial and things happened. Hands touch backs, arms, thighs, all the way to cheeks, through hair and then their disheveled again, breathing hard as they both climax together silently in the room.
They make the same pact like they had that first night. This was the last time; the final time it was going to happen and no more. They both agree that it's because of the stress in their lives and the need to release some tension. It was no big deal, but it wasn't something that could go on.
That pact lasts two days and they find themselves wrapped up in the sheets on her bed, swallowing each other's pleasured moans so they don't wake the toddler down the hall. It's hard and hot like the last two times, but there's something else that's developed; it's something they both feel but don't want to acknowledge. This wasn't supposed to be happening, they both knew that, but this feeling has cropped up regardless.
They especially feel it when they face each other in the afterglow, and their eyes lock for ten seconds before he gets up and gets dressed and bids her a goodnight. She doesn't know what to think, so she cleans herself up and goes to sleep, promising that this was the last time.
They eventually stop saying this was the last time after they fuck on his desk. She's grown too used to his strong hands gripping her hips and the sexy grunts branded against her skin when he's close to release. He's grown too used to her whispered pleas and her beautiful everything when he's above her and inside of her.
One night, he says 'I love you' as he comes down from his high and that is the last time they do it for a month, because she freaks out and leaves. She doesn't say it back and he understands because this wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to be doing this, fucking, touching, kissing and being friends on top of it. He wasn't supposed to be in love with her and he definitely wasn't supposed to tell her that. He stays in his office for another hour, tired of replaying the moment in his mind. He drinks half a bottle of scotch and passes out in his bed, feeling lonely and cold without her beside him.
She's late for work the next morning, because she spent the entire night thinking about the words and how they made her feel. It's a scary feeling, wanting to say them back, so badly, but knowing she couldn't. There were things that just weren't supposed to be and they were one of them. Her and him weren't meant to be together, simply because they were the best of friends and the best of work partners. Their team is unstoppable. Being in love? It's not a part of that and it simply won't be.
He appears in her office like nothing happened the night before and they fall back into a similar routine. It's awkward for a few days, but eventually, they're back to friendly drinks at Forlini's and long work sessions. They keep a distance and refuse to touch, because they both know what will happen if they do. They both silently agree that that part of their relationship is dead and gone and they've accepted it.
A month goes by and Olivia Benson admits to herself that she's in love with Rafael Barba and she's on her way to his office to tell him. It's been a terrible month, between work and home life and this terrifyingly empty hole in her heart that has his name written all over it. She can't stop thinking about him, even when he's next to her, smiling and laughing and cracking a joke while they go over witness statements or testimonies in their off time.
She catches those longing glances he sends her over his case files and she knows he catches hers when they sit across from each other in a booth at their favorite bar. It's all there and they're being stupid by trying to deny it. She misses the feel of his body against hers, his lips against hers. She needs to feel his hands on her body and his breath ghosting against her neck. She needs those gorgeous green eyes baring into her brown ones, searching her soul and finding the barest, simplest parts of her being.
He knows what she wants and what she needs and she denied him before, but no longer. As she steps into his office, he knows why she's there and he intercepts her before she can reach him halfway. Their lips are against each other's again and their hands are all over. They fuck again on the couch in his office and afterward, instead of dressing and leaving, she sits in his lap and stares into his eyes, giving him access to her everything as he did the same.
This wasn't supposed to happen, but they were both glad it did.