AN: This chapter was previously titled "TOUCH." As some of you might know, I've started cross-posting on AO3! I took the opportunity to update and improve the first three chapters over there before I did, so figured I'd repost this one here at the same time I'm updating AO3 Thanks for the love!
I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE: CH 4 / DATE
"Hey, Liv?" Elliot's face sobers, turning to her as they sit eating takeout on the stools at her kitchen island, his right leg twisted around her left at their ankles. While they've always gravitated toward each other, generally, these days it's unusual to find their bodies not touching in some way. Pinkies brushing, arms sweeping, shoulders pressed, hands linking. Eyes glancing, if they aren't not alone. Their conversation tonight had flowed easily. It was casual and comfortable, about work and the kids and their weekend plans. Peppered with laughter and a few fiery touches or soft kisses in between. This was them navigating their rekindled friendship mixed with their newfound something else.
"Yeah, El?" she cocks her head, eyebrows raised, curious. Her ankle moves against his, locking it closer.
"I want to…" He pauses and smiles a toothy grin, eyes shyly moving to his plate of noodles. "…take you on a date. Like a real one." He's almost afraid to look up because he's aware of how ridiculous he might sound. He stills, waiting for her to let her breath go so her can tell if she's about to roll her eyes or slap him upside the face.
She just chuckles, and so his gaze sheepishly meets hers.
"What do you mean? I feel like we're a little bit past that, don't you think?" she's smirks, but is willing to hear him out.
Her mind races with flashes of the last three months, the time that's passed since they first kissed at his family's Christmas get together. They'd had the hard conversations, the truthful talks, the moments of sweet revelation, the epiphany that nothing was in their way anymore. They'd bulldozed every barrier together, back to trusting partners, to best friends. Heck, they'd gone all the way to people who had sex, regularly. It was easier than she thought it would be. She realized the 12 years they spent as partners built an unbreakable foundation. It was solid, they were solid.
Elliot laughs, too. "Well, yeah, kinda, but… I think it's not that we're past it… we just... skipped it?" He puts his fork down and scoots his stool closer to hers, face soft, but eager. On a mission, apparently.
He looks sexy, she thinks. His navy blue henley is soft and bringing out his eyes. The buttons at his chest are undone and the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The khakis he's wearing are low at his hips and sliding roughly against her leggings at her knees. His presence is comforting, and she thinks about how she just wants to crawl as close to him as possible, forever maybe.
"Is that so?" she asks, looking into his eyes, searching for where he's going with this. She waits, adjusts a piece of hair behind her ear and turns slightly to pop a piece of shrimp into her mouth.
Goddamn, she is so beautiful. Elliot falters for a moment, forgetting the task at hand, because she takes his breath away by merely existing. He leans forward, thumbing her chin and resting a heavy palm on her upper thigh, those fingers playing gently with the crease at her hip, between her leg and belly. He covers her lips languidly, tasting the pad thai they shared for dinner. His tongue slides over hers with an affectionate hum before he pulls back, smiling.
"I want to take you on a date, you know, we dress up for each other, I pick a fancy restaurant, we share a bottle of wine, there's a babysitter involved." He explains. "Benson, I know everything about you except what it's like to actually date you. I… love what we're doing, but I want to do it right. I want to take you out and open the damn door for you and then pull out your chair and shoot the shit over a good steak. And then maybe do some kissing, we'll see."
She's smiling and thinking. She ponders this thought, determining that he does have a point. They've been so comfortable around each other, which they should be, and she's thankful for it. But the whole thing has felt very domestic very quickly. They took it slow in the beginning and definitely didn't jump into anything, they were careful. But they conquered the hard things, got them out of the way, and then fell into an easy routine. Them being together was built up emotionally and physically for so long, that when it finally happened, it felt so natural she almost forgot they'd actually never done this before. She supposes it's because they didn't have to really get to know each other. New versions of each other, sure, but really they'd already known each other at their deepest levels.
Olivia also considers the sex. It was earthshattering and nothing she'd ever experienced before, but it was also full of so much emotion. Twenty years of pent-up feelings that they were still trying to get a handle on. Having sex with Elliot Stabler was still an all-encompassing, almost out of body experience. It felt like less of a want and more of an absolute dire need. Elliot is right, they missed the fun part. She wonders, is it possible to have fun dating when you're approaching 60?
"Okay." She says finally, pecking his lips again, fingers tangling together with his at her hip. Her eyes are cool and eager when she pulls away. "I'll go on a date with you, Detective. Dinner, Friday at 8?"
"I'll pick you up, Captain."
She has butterflies. Is this for real right now? She's spent the entire week thinking of tonight. During their midday coffee breaks, snuggly movie nights, Noah's dance pick-ups, Eli's soccer drop-offs, goodnight kisses, morning routines, she's gone through the motions, but couldn't stop herself from thinking about dating Elliot Stabler. She's decided to go all out for him tonight, to really show up and give him Olivia Benson. Made up, hair bouncy, flirty, sexy, knows-exactly-what-she's-capable-of Olivia Benson. It's been years since she's felt this way and she is excited.
She chooses her favorite burgundy lingerie set, the one she wears usually for herself on days she needs a boost of confidence; the bra has modest coverage with a plunging V-shape and the panties are high waisted, but the lace is delicate and sheer. The set lifts her breasts just enough and accentuates her curvy waistline. She feels pretty and sexy as she saunters through her bedroom to her closet to choose a dress for the night.
She's always gravitated towards dresses for date nights; they're a reprieve from the pants and suits and stiff denim she's wears for work, and they make her feel a damn woman. Not a badass female cop, but a soft, sexy, and devastatingly confident woman. It's a completely different kind of powerful than she feels on any given day, when her badge is at her waist and glock at her hip. Staring at her closet, Olivia reminisces about those early years at SVU when she'd get called onto a case mid-date, showing up to the precinct in her flimsy slip dresses after leaving some poor guy at the bar alone. Her feelings about her femininity, her professionalism, and the intersectionality of the two have always been something she's had to reconcile, being a woman in the NYPD. Her feelings had gotten easier to balance with age, and certainly since becoming a mother.
Back to earth, Liv. Snapping out of her brain tangent, she shifts the items hanging in her closet back and forth before settling on the mid-length, deep green, silky dress she purchased for a friend's wedding a couple of years ago. The straps are thick on top, fabric scooping into a cowl at her chest and then draping flatteringly over her curves down to her calves. She picks her signature leather jacket to go on top and toes into a comfortable pair of heeled booties. She's just finishing up in her room when she hears her apartment door open, knowing Elliot's let himself in. She listens as she dabs a final touch of lip gloss on and tousles her waves into place at the mirror above her dresser.
"Hey, Lucy, how are ya? Thanks again for grabbing Noah tonight and bringing him to Queens for us. Eli's looking forward to hanging out with him." Elliot stuffs his hands in his pockets, chatting casually with Liv's trusted sitter.
The childcare plan for tonight was objectively complicated based on everyone's schedules. Lucy is waiting here at Liv's apartment until Noah finishes his ballet class down the street, and then she'll take him to Elliot's loft where Kathleen and Bernie are having a pizza night with him and Eli.
"Of course, it's not a problem! It's been… nice to mix things up lately." Lucy smiles, implying she's pleased that Olivia and Noah have more people in their corner now. Not that she doesn't love Noah and enjoy taking care of him, but she knows this is good for the Bensons.
Olivia smiles as she grabs her purse, lingering in her doorway for just a moment as she's hit with another wave of I can't believe this is real. It's a feeling she's gotten familiar with these days, but if you'd told her a year ago she'd be planning childcare with Elliot Stabler, she'd have never believed it.
Lucy's busy in the kitchen organizing Noah's overnight bag when Olivia emerges from her bedroom and heads down the hallway to where Elliot is waiting.
"Hey, El," she greets him with a soft smile, reaching out and brushing her hand against his fingers. "Ready to go?"
His breath catches because she is simply a vision. This is Olivia Benson dressed up for a date with him. He squeezes her hand, eyes smiling at her. "You're beautiful, Liv."
"You're looking handsome yourself, Detective," she smirks back to him, before turning her attention to Lucy quickly. "Lucy, are you all set? We're going to head out, let me know if you need anything. And thanks again for detouring to Queens tonight, we owe you!"
"All good, have fun you two. I'll let you know when I drop Noah off at Elliot's!" Lucy confirms.
It's nearing 10pm and they find themselves curled together in a sprawling booth, at the back of a fancy steakhouse downtown. They're picking at a giant slice of chocolate cake as they nurse their second bottle of red. Somehow, they haven't noticed they've been sharing one glass for the last hour, sipping and kissing back and forth. The wine has them pleasantly buzzed and she's pliable in his arms, her whole body resting against his chest as one hand swirls the glass between them and the other plays with the fingers he has rested on her shoulder.
They've talked tonight about the 12 years they spent as partners, remembering the times they almost could have crossed the line they desperately tried never to cross and identifying the clear moments from all those years ago that have led them to here. They feel dumbfounded at times, going through their memories and acknowledging how strong their feelings had been, how alike their feelings had been, though they'd never dared to talk about them back then.
"All roads have led to here, huh?" she leans up and places a slow kiss on his neck, right below his ear. Her tongue traces a particularly prominent vein as she breathes him in.
"It's uh," Elliot starts as she continues nipping, "It's always been you, Liv."
"Mmmmmm. Thank god it isn't so damn complicated anymore." Olivia mumbles. Her kisses trail down his jaw before stopping at his mouth. Her hand is pulling at the nape of his neck and she wants. He is warm and strong and hers, after all this time. Finally.
It feels easy now, and so right. Olivia pulls away and lifts the wine glass to his lips, allowing him to take a long sip before lowering it to her own mouth and finishing it off. Her fingers are still playing with the tiny hairs at his neck, rubbing and stroking hotly.
"Alright Captain, what do you say we get outta here?" Elliot grins, his blue eyes sparkling. "I'm ready for you know what part of the date."
They're kissing on her couch now, her dress is hiked up to her thighs, leather jacket long gone and hanging over the back cushion. Elliot has one hand under the hem, stroking at her hip, the other cupping her breast below her own hand as she guides him to where she's most sensitive tonight. He rolls a nipple through her dress, and she moans back against his lips.
"Ahmmm, that feels good, El."
Their kisses are somewhat sloppy, encouraged by the two bottles they shared at dinner and their mutual arousal. Olivia's movements are more calculated than his, sucking at his bottom lip and alternating between tongue and teeth. She's breathing heavy and making sounds of approval as he shifts the weight of her breasts in his hand. She is so sexy, he thinks. This is Olivia fucking Benson, and she's moaning for him.
Content with the work he's doing along her chest, Olivia turns her attention to the hand under her dress, still toying with her inner thigh, not quite giving what she needs. Their kisses are deep and wet now, and she scoots herself further into him. She needs more pressure.
"Touch me, El." She prods. "Want your hands tonight. Your fingers." She's clear, telling him exactly what she wants.
"So sexy, Liv." Elliot sounds drunk on her body. Blissfully unaware of how much she actually needs him to do something rather immediately.
"Touch. Me." She repeats, in staccato. Her hips are moving, inching closer to his, breasts bouncing beneath her dress softly.
His fingers start a slow maneuver up and to the right, towards her core, but he's dragging the hem of her dress and moving at a torturous pace. She tries to distract herself with the feel of his abs, her fingers slipping through the buttons on his shirt at his belly. The man is hard as rock beneath her and the feel of his skin triggers a new rush of wetness beneath her, and jesus, he still isn't touching her, distracted by her tits and the increasingly needy sounds she's making.
"Off, take this dress off." Elliot counters. "Need to see you before I touch you."
She stands then, quickly, moving to fulfill this request like lightning because she needs him to touch her. Her hand drags down his arm, catching his fingers before lifting her dress up and over her head. She stands there in front of him and spins, smirking her lips in a slight smile, looking down at him still on the couch.
"That for me?" Elliot musters, his mouth dry at the sight of her.
"Yea it is, you cocky bastard." She winks. "You too, shirt off."
She's plump and smooth and gorgeous; he thrashes his arms around, slipping shirt off and then reaches out to stroke the pretty lace hugging her breasts and circling her torso. His hands slide against her breasts before landing on the small of her back and nudging her forward. She falls against the couch, using the back to steady herself as she straddles his waist.
"Mhm. El—" she breathes, as finds a comfortable position and takes hold of the backside of his palm. "Like this." She pushes her underwear over and directs his fingers to either side of her wetness, arranging them in a vee to surround her clit. "Pressure here, and then—ah!"
Something clicks, Elliot finally gets the idea, and he's tugging at the nub in upward circular motions, mimicking a sucking motion, but with his fingers and oh. Okay, there we go.
"That, do that." Liv pants against his mouth, bringing his lips to hers and kisses sloppily, her tongue resting against his bottom teeth.
His other hand moves from her chest and slips beneath her chin, breaking the kiss and tipping her face so he can see her, can see the tiny muscles moving in her face as he works her clit. She keeps her eyes wide open, staring into his, a silent faceoff between her pleasure and her control.
"Yes, Elliot—" she whines as he pulls upward and squeezes gently, "ah, ah!"
Her wetness coats his hand and he continues his ministrations. He captures her lips again, tongues caressing each other frantically. "You're devine, Liv."
His hand moves then, down her slit and over her opening. He readjusts so that his middle finger dips inside while his thumb keeps the pressure going on her clit. She feels slick enough that he doesn't reach for the lube, but he moves his eyes to hers as he starts a stroking rhythm in her, searching to make sure she's feeling okay.
"Oh, god, El." Her eyes are dark and full of pleasure, so helps her usher her underwear all the way off and then picks up the pace.
"That's right, tell me what you want." She's riding above his hand now, his wrist strong and unwavering as he curls his fingers deeper, searching for—
"Ah, up El, up and over, a little harder."
He follows instructions and finds the familiar groove in her pelvic wall, the one he knows that if he applies just the right amount of pressure to, in a back and forth (never circular!) motion…
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Elliot!"
Her muscles start gripping and he doesn't stop, only adds the motion over her clit again. Pulling, tugging, sliding, pressing, repeat. She finally closes her eyes because christ, keeping them open any longer is impossible.
Her head is thrown back, but she leans her body forward, changing the angle for herself slightly, and teasing her palm over his length through his trousers as she teeters on the edge. He's solidly hard and probably insanely uncomfortable, so she takes one for the team.
"Stop, ahh, stop. C'mon, El." He's off her right away, slightly confused until she explains. "Get those pants off. Want to come on you." It almost comes out as a growl and he laughs, but won't deny her. He wants this too, obviously. Could die for this, right now.
He strips down in a moment, pants and boxer briefs falling to the floor simultaneously. She takes the opportunity to unhook her bra then, eliminating the final piece of clothing between the two of them. Naked and sweaty, he's on her again instantly, hands palming her bare breasts and cupping her ass.
"Here, this way." She's luring them back to the couch, back to were they were, back to the edge of heaven, basically. This time, she kneels in the center of the couch facing the back. One arm bends at the elbow, leaning against the wall behind them, the other reaches out behind her and grabs him toward her.
"Olivia Benson, you're gonna make me lose my damn mind." Elliot notes.
"Not if you make me lose mine first, Detective." She's all want now. Dark, fiery, sexy, hot, want. "Let's see it."
He's up on the couch behind her now, knees on either side of hers, his chest pressed tightly against her back. His left hand covers hers on the wall, fingers laces together, and his right steadies her at her lower belly. She uses her free hand to line him up and slowly sinks back against him as he slides in.
There's a singular moan then, crafted by their two voices. His low and throaty, hers higher and drawn out. Elliot is motionless for a moment, waiting for her to adjust. She's tight and wet and feels so perfect he can't understand how they actually went two decades without this. He'd have been a goner in one second, he's sure of it. That's why.
"Move, El." He goes then, pushing in and out of her and back again. His body is a line of hard, straining, powerful muscles against her soft skin. He moves to worship her, hands caressing her midriff as he holds the pace. Her toes curl at the sensation, the rocking back and forth. She feels it everywhere, not doing anything to stop the sounds of pleasure rolling from her throat.
"Ahhhhhhh, ah-" she's losing her balance a little, starting to feel the contractions deep inside.
"Liv, I can't go much longer." Elliot grunts out. "In or out, Liv?"
"In, El. Come on, faster."
He pistons behind her, steadfast and deep, fingernails pressing half moons in the space between her knuckles. He presses in one, two, three more times before he's releasing inside of her with long, warm spurts. He checks in on her while he rides his high, peeking his head over her shoulder and squeezing her hip below. Her eyes are closed, but they're moving with a blink-like twitch that tells him she's close.
"Come for me, Olivia, let go." He urges as he rolls her clit and a nipple together at the same time while dropping his mouth to her neck. She comes hard, finally, with a guttural groan that begins deep and ends with a high-pitched yell, her hips grinding against his and the back of the couch, mouth turning towards his.
"God, you're sexy when you do that." Elliot grins as she flips around to face him, arms around his neck.
"You're sexy when you do that." Liv laughs back, catching her breath, raising her lips to his. "Whattaya know, Elliot Stabler's a damn good date."