Thanks again for all the love around this story!

I've got about 7 chapters posted of another one — a bit more angsty fare that dives into Elliot's mental health, therapy, and his relationship with Liv after he comes back under very different circumstances. So if you're into an angsty slow burn, it's called leave us in ruins.

He's drowning in her — a wonderful, beautiful, heavenly abyss. His hands sink into the waves of her hair, gently tilting her head so he can get closer — but it will never be close enough. Even when he's inside her later, God willing, it will never be close enough.

Elliot wants to climb inside her and never leave.

She moans into his mouth and it's electric, running through him like a shockwave. Her fingers are warm and firm at the back of his neck and he wants them to brand him so that everyone knows that he belongs to her.

Her other hand slides around to press urgently at his back. He'd been trying to maintain a modicum of distance between their lower halves but fuck, that's all over now. Her heels are the perfect height to line them up just so and she whimpers against his lips as he makes contact with her core.

She grinds against him a little and he can't believe he doesn't just burst into flames right then and there.

"God, Liv." In any other moment, he would cringe at the desperation, the need that reverberates through his words, but there's no fucking way he cares when she's in his arms like this.

Oh they should stop, though. He's not sure he can be responsible for his actions if this goes on much longer and he does not want their first time to be on a rooftop (though it has a certain allure in general, he can't deny that).

Never not in sync with him, Olivia breaks away from his mouth on a gasp, her lips lingering at his cheek while she catches her breath.

He pants gently at her forehead as his fingers slip out of her hair, falling to her neck to massage there. She shudders against him then and he can't help the smile he presses to her skin.

"Shut up," she grumbles, but her arms are wrapping around him in a loose, easy embrace. They stand like that for a few minutes, matching the slowing cadence of each other's breathing, lazy and content as the city bustles around them on all sides.

A gentle breeze catches her hair, dispersing notes of her vanilla shampoo. He relishes it, all of it, as he lets his eyes drift closed.

He isn't sure how much time passes when she speaks again. "I believe you said something about a dance?"

His lips skim her hair before he smoothes a kiss there. "I did."

She hums. "Well, I'm afraid you've waited too long, Stabler. My dance card is full."

He laughs. "Oh yeah? With who?"

"Munch," she quips, not missing a beat.

"I don't think so, Benson. There's always room on your dance card for me."

She leans back in his arms, her warm brown eyes meeting his gaze. "You're right about that one," she confirms softly, nearly all traces of playfulness gone.

He brushes her hair out of her face, tucking a few strands behind her ear. "So what do ya say? Will you dance with me?"

She wraps her hand around his wrist, leaning into his touch. "I thought you'd never ask."

He reaches into the pocket of his pants, noticing the shiver that works its way through her at the loss of his touch.

"Cold?"

She shrugs, an answer all on its own, so he slides out of his suit jacket and helps her into it, gently tugging her hair out of its confines.

"Better?" he asks, tugging gently at the lapels, cozying her up. He can't explain what it does to him seeing her wearing his clothes and he knows without a doubt that he's woefully unprepared for future lazy mornings with her sliding out of bed, her tan, naked back exposed before she picks up one of his button-downs from the floor and wraps it around her delectable curves.

Some would say his thoughts are cocky — and maybe they are — but even if he's never really known this side of Olivia Benson before, this version of her is just as familiar to him as all the others. Just as natural and fitting.

She smiles. "Much."

Elliot unlocks his phone and scrolls through a playlist, one he'd made with her specifically in mind — mostly songs she loves and a few that make him think of her — before he makes a selection, slipping his cell back into his pocket.

As the rich and warm instrumentation drifts around them, Olivia lifts both hands to gently circle his neck. Elliot's hands fall to her waist and she wastes no time before she lays her head on his shoulder, nuzzling into him.

He feels her sigh against him, her warm breath caressing his collarbone as they sway together under the moonlight.

He closes his eyes, reveling in the moment, the way she must trust him so implicitly for them to be here now. He never could have imagined in his wildest dreams (okay, maybe in his wildest dreams) that they would've ended up here tonight — not even just after all this time, but just even...at all.

He could stay here, exactly like this, forever.

Absentmindedly, his thumb begins to move in short, lazy circles at her hip, slipping against silk. She's warm beneath him, as if he burns her with his touch. She grows restless under his hands, growling as her nails scrape against his neck.

"Starting to really see why we barely touched each other in those 12 years," she chokes out.

He dips his mouth down to graze her ear, chuckling. "At least we have a place to hold all that sexual tension now."

She hums. "What time is it?"

"Too soon to leave."

"You sure about that, Stabler? There's nothing I can do to convince you?" She nips gently at the curve of his neck then, soothing it with her tongue.

He groans. "You're really not playing fair, Liv."

"Screw fair. I'd rather screw you."

He barks out a laugh. "I really don't remember you having a mouth like this on you before."

She leans back in his arms, a wicked glint in her eye to match her smirk that can mean nothing good for him. "I think you'll find, Detective Stabler, that there is a lot about my mouth you have yet to discover," she says throatily.

"Thirty minutes," he croaks. "We're leaving in 30 minutes."

They make their way back downstairs five minutes later for a few more shuffles around the dance floor before they serve the cake.

"You want to split a piece?" Elliot asks, settling back down into his seat. They're the only ones left at their table, but he's pretty sure he saw Munch and Cragen table-hopping to chat with some old uniforms who used to work at the station house.

Olivia cocks her head, her cheeks flushed from dancing. "Are we doing a role-playing thing where we pretend like we've never met before and you know nothing about me? Because I'd really like to save that for a rainy day, El."

He nearly chokes on his water. "You're right. What was I thinking?"

A waiter reaches their table with a tray of cake plates and Elliot thanks him as he grabs two, passing one of them to Olivia.

"I haven't seen Rollins or Carisi tonight," Elliot observes, sliding a bite into his mouth.

"She and Jesse both have the flu so Carisi is helping out and also keeping an eye on Billie."

"I thought Noah was with Jesse and Billie tonight."

Olivia shakes her head. "That was the original plan, but now he's spending the night at his friend Ryan's. He was so excited that he was all ready and packed two hours before Mrs. Sorenson picked him up."

"You picking him up in the morning?"

"Not until the afternoon. They're getting breakfast and going to the park first." She pauses, taking a sip of her wine. "You asking because you've got big plans for morning sex and waffles?"

He nearly slams his knee against the table. He cannot believe he's gone 23 years without seeing this side of her. Jesus Christ.

He tries to recover quickly. "I assume I'm the one making the waffles in this scenario?"

"Well, yeah, I'm in charge of the orange juice," she deadpans.

"But I don't even get my own glass. How is that equal division of the responsibilities?"

She throws her hands up. "Hey, if you want to be the one to break with tradition - "

He rolls his eyes. "At least throw in the coffee too."

She grins, leaning in to steal a kiss. She swipes her tongue across lips and oh, she tastes like sugar and vanilla wrapped in the earthy notes of her cabernet sauvignon.

She pulls away a moment later, but lingers at his mouth. "Deal," she murmurs, eyes bright with it. He watches, enraptured, as her teeth tug at her bottom lip just as her hand drapes over his thigh. "Will you take me home now?" Her voice is low, all sex dipped in chocolate.

Fuck.

His fork clatters to his plate. "Let's say our goodbyes."

He's already hard before they even step all the way through Olivia's door. It's barely shut behind her before she drops her clutch to the floor and she's in his arms, her hot mouth devouring his.

He groans, a hand carding through her hair to cradle her skull as he pushes her back against the door.

"Elliot," she moans against his mouth, her nails scraping the skin at the nape of his neck, sending a delicious shiver down his spine. It's a reflex then, a symptom of her touch, when he thrusts against her, his length pressing against her core.

God, she's burning him alive and they've barely gotten started.

She seems just as impatient as he is because then she's removing one of his hands from her waist and sliding it up to cup her breast.

He swears under his breath as he kneads it, thick and heavy and perfect in his palm. She whimpers at his cheek, her grip tight and clutching at his neck. He's a goner already, fuck, and then he swipes his thumb over her nipple as he dips his head to paint her clavicle with his tongue. She keens, her neck snapping back, knocking his hand roughly against the door.

"Shit, sorry," she apologizes breathlessly.

"S'okay," he mumbles against her before reluctantly pulling away. "But maybe we should move away from the door because I'm not sure I'm young enough for this anymore."

She laughs, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. The most beautiful fucking thing he's ever seen.

She leans in then, her breasts heaving as she trails a hand down his chest to take him in her hand, teasing his length. "I don't know, El. You feel pretty young to me."

"Fuck, Liv."

He lets her tease him for a moment before he remembers the task at hand, reluctantly removing her grip on him. He links her fingers with his, kissing her gently.

"You sure about this?" he asks, touching his forehead to hers.

"Yes," she says softly. She tugs on his hand, her eyes intent and steady as she leads them down the hallway into her bedroom.

As he follows her in, he feels the nerves kick in now that some of the adrenaline and urgency has worn off. Twenty-three years on and off by this woman's side, more than half of that spent dreaming about a moment like this — about being with her.

"You okay?" she asks, eyebrow raised in concern as she flicks a lamp on.

He shrugs, a sheepish smile stretching across his mouth. "Just a little nervous, I guess," he admits.

"Hey," she says softly, stepping into him again. She slides her hands around his waist, leaning back so she can look him in the eye. "It's just you and me. No matter what's happened...at the end of the day, it's still just you and me."

She wraps her hand around his wrist to rest his palm against the rapid thud of her heartbeat. "I'm nervous, too." She smiles shyly, warmth flickering through his chest. "But it's you and me."

"You and me," he repeats back to her quietly.

She kisses him as her trembling fingers slowly start to unbutton his shirt. "You and me," she murmurs against his lips.

His hands shake too as he finds the zipper at her back, tugging it slowly down her spine. Feeling the desperation start to build again, he cups her bottom, squeezing it as she jerks into him on a moan.

And then the frenzy begins again.

She's naked — holy fuck, she's naked — as he takes her in for the first time, sprawled on her back beneath him, biting her lip as she watches him watch her. There's not a single inch of her that he doesn't want to explore every day for the rest of his life.

But first. He knows just where to start.

Never relinquishing eye contact, his mouth falls to reverently brush over the first line of puckered skin he encounters. He feels her sharp intake of breath and rests his palm on her belly to steady her, keep her grounded.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," she shoots him a watery smile. "I'm okay."

He takes his time with each one, focusing solely on her to keep the images out of his head, savor this moment just for them. After she told him about that monster and what he did to her, Elliot has spent plenty of sleepless nights imagining every single detail of the things she shared.

But that bastard is dead and doesn't get to take this night away from them, from her, too.

When he's finished with the last little scar, she reaches for him, pulling him in for a kiss just as he settles on his side next to her.

Her palm cradles his cheek, the deep well of her brown eyes flitting across his face, searching for something. He turns his head into her hand, kissing her palm as his arousal starts to quiet down.

Whatever this is, this moment right now, he wants to give it to her.

"I love you."

He sucks in a sharp breath, his heart loud and pounding in his ears. Stunned, he takes it all in, quiet for a moment.

But he must take a little too long because now she's looking at him with a little worry and a lot of amusement.

"You still with me, El?" she asks.

"I love you, too," he blurts out, a little stupid with it. But she lets out the biggest laugh, one he's sure poets could write endless sonnets about, and eliminates the last of the space between them, cuddling into his chest.

"I thought you might," she teases.

He wakes an hour later to find her naked and draped over him, nipping at his chest with her teeth.

"Jesus Christ," he groans.

She looks up at him, cocking her head as a smile flirts at her lips. "You know, we haven't even spent our first night together and you've already fallen asleep on me."

"I don't think so," he growls, pulling her up into his arms. She lets out a little huff as he flips them so she's beneath him again. "You fell asleep first," he points out, kissing her.

"I did not." She kisses him.

"Did too." He laughs into her mouth and she huffs again, arching her back to rub against his growing erection.

"Fuck, Olivia."

She grins. "I thought that might shut you up."

Hmm. Two can play that game.

He tugs her thigh up, rubbing against her as his other hand roughly kneads her breast.

"Son of a bitch," she pants and he has to bite back a laugh because of course, of course she would curse him out in bed, too.

He captures her lips with his, groaning as he feels her start to undulate impatiently under him.

"Elliot," she whimpers, low and needy. She wraps her hand around his erection again — Christ, she has got to stop doing that — and rubs him against her clit.

"Ohhh," she moans, her head snapping back in ecstasy as she grips his shoulder tightly in her other hand.

"God, you're so wet, Olivia." he rasps against the shell of her ear. Goosebumps prickle at her skin and oh, he's ready to break. He wants to take his time with her, but 23 years of build-up leading up to this night -

He's not sure he has it in him to wait much longer.

"Elliot, please," she grits out, pulling his head up roughly to take his mouth with hers, biting down on his bottom lip.

He grips her gorgeous, thick thigh tight in his hands as he opens her up to him a little more, lining them up perfectly.

He can't take his eyes off her as he enters her gently.

"Oh." Her eyes slip closed as her teeth clamp down on her lip.

"Liv, open your eyes," he coaxes her gently as he slides in further.

Cheeks flushed, her eyes flutter open and her gaze is wanting, dark as night. He knows the combination will remain burned in his memory forever.

"You feel so good," she whispers. "Let me feel all of you."

He pulls out of her only to thrust back in so he's fully seated inside her, hot and tight and so perfect around him.

"Yes."

He finds her hands, lacing his fingers through hers as he pins her to the mattress. He strikes up a steady rhythm then and she's losing the battle to keep her eyes open, heavy-lidded as she gasps under him.

He will never forgive himself for waiting 23 years to do this.

Impatient, she starts to thrust into him, a vision with her hair spread out across her pillow. It's begun to curl a little at her temples where she perspires and she's never been more beautiful.

"Harder," she pleads.

He slams into her, so ready to tumble over the edge already, hungry for her. He releases one of her hands so he can dip his head to nudge at her breast, wrap his mouth around her nipple.

He suckles, his hips never stopping, and then she's keening as she writhes under him.

"Elliot," she cries.

He groans, nipping at her skin. "Come for me, Olivia."

Her body begins to convulse and he can't miss this, so he slips her out of his mouth to watch.

What he sees takes his breath away. She looks at him with such intensity, such love, as her orgasm overwhelms her that it takes him with it too, and he's thrusting into her blindly as he empties himself inside her.

Spent, he falls onto the mattress beside her. She shivers, goosebumps peppering her sensitive skin, so he tugs her into him and pulls the sheet up around her waist. Sated and warm, she shoots him a sleepy little smile before she smoothes a kiss across his lips.

Nuzzling into his neck, she lets out a deep, contented sigh. "I knew you'd put out on the first date, Stabler."

Finis.

Love to hear from you!

Liv