A/N: Thank you, Mel, for the prompt. This is dedicated to DDC- you know who you are.

Also, I don't write smut, so if this sucks…. sorry. But I did leave the ending open in case more is requested. And also, I NEED things to tide me over until Thursday.

ALSO ALSO- for sanity purposes, Tucker and Kathy aren't necessarily dead, they're just out of the picture. Do what you want with them in your head. This fic is purely for fun and smut.

Anywho, not mine.

"Hit me again, will ya?"

Elliot raises his empty glass before setting it down in front of him. The bartender nods his acknowledgement as he grabs a new glass and begins to fill from the tap. When he places it in front of Elliot, he watches the foam settle for a moment, then takes a long swig.

His mind had been reeling since that morning in the coffee shop. The coffee shop he could never step foot in again because he would just be reminded of the conversation.

"It was Ed. Tucker."

Ten years ago... hell, five years ago he would have stormed out. But when she broke the news to him, as soon as he felt the tightness begin to build in his chest, he had taken a deep breath and said "I hope he treated you the way you deserve to be treated." He meant it.

But as the day went on, unwanted visions kept creeping into his mind. Olivia and Tucker holding hands. Having dinner together. Kissing.

Olivia and Tucker in bed together. Shit.

The thought makes him quickly down his beer. He's beginning to feel himself tense up again. He knows he has no right to be angry, he had left her and moved on with his life. He was happy with Kathy, and Olivia had every right to be happy in his absence. She deserved it. Still, the tension in his chest isn't letting up, and he's suddenly asking himself how the fuck she could sleep with someone who made their lives a living hell. The Ed Tucker he remembers was a prick. How much could he have changed that made him so desirable to Olivia?

He needs air. He stands up, pulling to $20 bills from his wallet and tossing them next to his empty glasses. He opens the door and begins walking in the direction of his apartment. As the night breeze hits him, he feels his mind begin to clear up, and he suddenly realizes- he's not angry.

He's jealous.

It hits him like a ton of bricks and he stops in his tracks. He hates that Tucker is the one who got to hold Olivia's hand. He got to hold her at night. He got to run his hands over her soft skin, to see her- all of her. Before he knows it, he's turned around and is walking in the opposite direction. Her apartment is a few blocks away and he makes the walk, knowing what he wants- what he has to do. He needs to make her forget.

He reaches her building and is grateful for the man walking through the door; he holds the door open for Elliot without question. Elliot makes his way to her floor and knocks on her door. It's late, but he knows she's not asleep.

"Elliot?" Her muffled voice confirms from the other side of the door as he hears the locks click. She opens the door wearing her black sweatpants and a fitted zip-up sweatshirt. Her hair is lazily pulled back, and he wants nothing more than to touch the loose strands and push them back behind her ear.

"Can I come in?" He takes a step and she moves aside for him.

She turns after she closes the door and startles. She wasn't expecting him to be that close.

"You dated Tucker." He hadn't meant to lead with that, but there it was.

"What?" She squints slightly at him and tilts her head.

"I don't like that."

She sighs, taking a step back. "We talked about this. I thought we were okay."

"I know. We are. And I get it. I'm not mad." His hands reach for hers and he runs his fingers over the smooth skin. "I just can't get it out of my head."

"Elliot, are you drunk?" She suddenly smells the beer on his breath. She should pull her hands away, but something is stopping her.

"No." He takes the final step before her back finds the door. He places his hands on either side of her, caging her in. He leans in closer. "No, I'm not."

Her breath hitches when his lips meet her neck. She still isn't entirely sure what's going on, but the feel of his tongue running across her just makes her want more. She tilts her head to the side, exposing more skin.

"Why are you here?" she exhales. Her hands meet his chest, as if to push him away, but her palms open and she runs her hands up to his neck, wrapping around him. "Why are you so concerned about my relationship with Tu-"

"I'm not here to talk," he interrupts. He's back on her, pinning her to the door. "I just wanna know." His lips ghost over her ear and he feels her shiver. He presses into her hip, knowing she can feel his arousal. Her gasp isn't audible, but he feels it.

"Did he ever get this hard for you?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He crashes his lips over hers and she doesn't hesitate kissing him back. He runs his hand down her hip until he's reached the underside of her thigh, lifting it around his waist. He pushes his hardness into her and she moans into his mouth. It's a beautiful sound, he begins to slowly grind against her. She whimpers when he presses into her core and he groans in response.

"Did he get you to make those sounds?"

Another hypothetical question. She releases his lips and rolls her head back against the door. Her mouth is parted, and she's panting. He runs his hand down, over her curves, until he meets the tie of her sweatpants. He pulls, releasing the knot, and his hand enters the fabric. He pulls his hips back to make room and cups her over the damp lace, and she makes that glorious sound again. He presses gently and she cries out even louder.

"Did het know where to touch you?"

She shakes her head and bucks into his hand when he begins rubbing in circles. He's painfully hard, but he wants to make her forget. He wants to be the only one who can do this to her. He slips a finger under the lace and lets out a groan when he feels how wet she is.

"Jesus, Liv. Did he ever get you this wet?"

She chews her bottom lip, shaking her head again. Her hand begins to toy at the zipper of her sweatshirt. He begins to run a finger through her folds and watches her chew her lip. Her chest is heaving, and he can't take the teasing anymore- he reaches for her zipper to tug it down and groans loudly as he reaches the bottom. He gives her a devilish smile. "Fuck."

Of course she wasn't wearing anything under it.

He needs to touch her. He lets go of the leg he has held up, and she wraps it tightly around him. His now free hand traces the underside of her breast. She lets the sweatshirt drop to the floor and places a hand over his, dragging it up until he's cupping her. He squeezes gently, causing her head to fall back against the door once more. He can't resist- he leans down to her other breast and flicks his tongue over her nipple. Her mouth drops open again and he realizes he wants to hear that beautiful sound again. He replaces the finger on her clit with his thumb and enters her.

"Elliot," she says breathily, and it's even more glorious than any other sound she's made tonight. He continues fucking her with his fingers while rubbing her clit, and he feels her body begin to lose control. "Ahh fuck! I'm gonna-"

"Come for me, Liv. I want you to come for me," he encourages.

She lets out a guttural moan as she comes around his fingers. He can't help but groan with her as he helps her ride it out. Her body suddenly goes limp against the door and she waits a few beats before opening her eyes. His lips ghost over her ear again and he smiles.

"Did he get you off like I do?"

"Who?" She smiles at him and takes his hand, pulling him toward her bedroom. "Come on. I think we both have some forgetting to do."