AN: This came out to play at 11pm last night.
Story warning: Please do not expect the rest of this anytime soon lol.
Set: Season 12. UC EO.
THE DEAL: PART 1
The plan all along had been to flirt with her.
That's what Cragen had asked of them.
To flirt.
She would smile.
He would smirk.
He'd say some corny one liner, then he'd step a little closer than normal.
He'd run a warm hand down her bare forearm and lean in a little to whisper something nonsensical.
It was a cover after all.
It didn't really matter what he said.
He could have said rainbow coloured unicorn gypsy for all it would matter.
Instead his hand settled on her upper arm and he drew her forward, whispering something practical in her ear.
"Remind me to get gas on the way back to the precinct."
She laughed like he'd just said something side-splitting, like those first years when they'd met on the force.
She was all teeth and beaming eyes and it hit him in that moment, she doesn't laugh like that anymore.
Not with him.
She is sucking on a cube of ice when their perp enters and whether she was doing it intentionally or out of boredom he doesn't know but her lips are so blindingly intoxicating that he nearly misses his cue.
"We got eyes on Morris." Fin's voice tells him in his earpiece and he glances up to the mirrored bar and watches in the reflection as their guy surveys the club.
Their perp is notorious for stalking couples – particularly, ones reeking of sex romps and one night stands. He gets his kicks following them home, separating the woman from the man, claiming her for his own like he was ripping prey from a lion's mouth.
Classic power play.
Elliot turns, letting his eyes coast down Olivia's curves in purposeful approval, a put upon cocky look on his face as he drinks her in.
But in reality, none of this is an act.
She glances back at him as they flash their sexual desire for each other like a beacon and when she bites down on her lower lip he wants to moan.
This is the one time he can wear his attraction to her like a badge and he's going to milk every damn second of it.
Her lips are dark crimson, matching the slinky dress that her figure carries exceptionally well and he wonders how much of her lipstick would rub off against his mouth if he dared to kiss her tonight.
His chest pounds at the thought of it - kissing her in a crowded bar like this.
He wonders if he'd have the balls to do it, right here - in front of their entire squad.
Would she go with it? Would she respond to him? Would she open her mouth to him?
This wasn't the first time they were under as a couple but it was the first time he was doing it with a bare ring finger and the freedom in that causes a flush of heat to creep up the back of his neck.
"Morris is checking out another couple to your left," Fin's voice comes through the earpiece startling him back to reality. "You guys are gonna have to ramp it up a notch."
His chest starts to pound and something flicks within him because he knows he was just granted something very, very rare.
Permission.
Thank you Fin.
He takes it, moving forward without further thought, his hand smoothing purposefully across her lower back, drawing her closer until his lips brush across her cheek.
He leans in to whisper something else in her ear but she turns at the same time, their lips grazing in one heated, frenzied moment.
Fuck.
Their noses knock and she inhales sharply, a few beats pass before she slowly pulls away, redirecting the mishap and offering her cheek to him instead. He takes it, moving his lips across her hairline towards the shell of her ear as if it's some kind of consolation prize.
"Sorry," he whispers quietly, the apology falling into her tresses.
But he isn't.
At all.
Sorry, not sorry.
He loiters far too close to her now, his hand smoothing up her shoulder blades until his fingers snake through the back of her curls. He feels her respond immediately, it's in her shortness of breath, the shiver he feels wrack through her body - all that's missing is a moan.
He doesn't mean to look but he has a good view down her cleavage from this angle and it's full and purposeful tonight. He swallows as his fingers continue to twirl her hair into twists and he imagines her nipples tightening against lace with each second that passes. She doesn't pull away, in fact she does the opposite, she presses the side of her breasts encouragingly into his chest as he continues to toy with her hair.
He is supposed to be whispering sweet nothings in her ear but he is at a loss for words now that she is this close, this responsive, this reactionary.
The sedan.
The gas.
He's already gone there..
What else can he say?
Gypsy unicorns.
"Maybe grab her ass Stabler," Fin's voice breaks through with a chuckle as if he were listening to every torrid thought Elliot was having.
He tries not to react, but that just rocked him.
Heavily.
Fin was joking right?
He has to be.
He ignores the comment and continues to twirl her hair, waves of lavender-vanilla wafting through his nostrils, heightening his want for her by the second.
This whole thing was very, very dangerous and Fin was not making this any easier.
She isn't looking at him anymore and he wonders if it's because of the ass comment - they were both wired to the same radio so she would have caught it. He wants her to look up at him then, even just for a second so he can ascertain if she's still okay with all this.
"Guys," he hears Fin's voice again and there is quite desperation now. "We're losing him."
Elliot's jaw twitches.
He doesn't like losing – at anything.
Especially not to some hotter, younger couple who won't be prepared if this psychopath jumps them in the street tonight but more to the point, he doesn't want to miss this chance with her - the one he won't have again for lifetimes.
He cups the back of her neck, a sudden boldness taking over, his heart beat hammering as he tilts her face towards his, a few beats of hesitation hang between them before he presses his mouth firmly against hers. He kisses her point blank and it's firm and purposeful, both of them breathing through their noses before he is parting her lips with his, dragging her top lip between his and sucking.
She makes a sound against his mouth and it barely registers over the music but he feels it vibrate against his lips like an electrical hum. The sensation moves through every fibre of his body until it pools deep within his lower belly. He is moving forward then, backing her up against the lip of the bar, grasping her lower lip between his and sucking avidly. She lets him, the slick sounds of their lips grasping and sucking filling his ears before she starts to pull back, their eyes meeting in a state of pure arousal.
His gaze drops down to the mess he made of her lips and it's metaphorical.
He's the mess now.
It was just a taste but he wants more, more of her - more of them, while he still has the chance.
"Do it," she whispers, but her voice had been so quiet he wasn't sure he'd even heard correctly.
Do what Liv?
There are a lot of things he wants to do right now, so she's going to have to be more specific.
She clutches the side of his jacket, her head bowed slightly as she drags him further downward so she can whisper away from the radio.
"Grab my ass."
Christ.
She was actually encouraging this.
He was thinking about consequences now. He's not going to be able to sleep a damn wink tonight, or any other night for that matter if he touches any part below her waist.
Maybe this wasn't such a smart idea after all, maybe he should tone this down, put a stop to this whole thing before it-
"Elliot you just put your mouth.. on mine," she whispers, her breath exhaling against his lips. "So just ..do it."
She was right.
They had already crossed a line, what was another strike against him? Against them. Why not take this all the way home.
It would be years until he gets this chance again.
His eyes glance towards the mirrored bar once more, ensuring they had an audience before his hand slides purposefully over her ass cheek and he squeezes firmly.
He groans, then it's seconds before his mouth is on hers again. He steps them backwards, her thighs knocking the barstool behind them, the screech making a god awful noise against the tiles but he doesn't stop. He is humming against her mouth now and she places a hand against his chest, in warning perhaps, or in an effort to calm him down but he doesn't taper back, his desire for her all too overwhelming, then it's moments before his tongue is driving between her lips.
She whimpers in response - an actual whimper and he knows he's going to hell for this.
He will pay for this later, she will be stony as fuck with him because he had just taken way more than she had offered.
She breaks the kiss, her breathing laboured because she knows he has zero restraint with her now.
"Simmer down," she rasps throatily, her voice low in warning but all he can focus on are her glistening lips. He is still copping a handful of her ass, her body heat a burning terrain against his skin and his mind reels at the feel of the small scrap of lace that wouldn't last five seconds under his grasp.
He sees the warning in her eyes but he's cocky now so he moves forward, pressing the muscle of his thigh directly between her legs and her breath catches, her nails sinking into his forearm as he watches her stifle a moan.
His cock twitches and he realises he's in big trouble.
He spells it out for her with one look.
He wants her.
Tonight.
And he isn't sorry.
"Our perps hit the john," Fin clears his throat. "So you two can ah… cool it off now."
There is no chuckle in Fin's voice anymore and he watches the sudden awareness of that flit across her face.
She pulls herself out of their trance and moves backwards, his hand slipping from her ass, their lower halves detaching.
He can see the concern etched in her face, Fin had seen their every move and it was clear in that moment she'd forgotten they weren't alone.
He is about to say something to ease the concern on her face but she is already turning away, motioning towards the bar tender and ordering a drink she isn't supposed to consume on the job.
A double Jack Daniels and coke.
TBC