Author's notes: Yes, it's been a minute. I thought this one might be over, but when the mood strikes, it strikes! My sincere thanks to Anni and Natalie for their kind and insightful betas!
This one will be better in context, so I'd recommend backing up to at least chapter 33 (Barba's return from Washington) to get reoriented if it's been a while for you. Or, heck, if you're feeling ambitious, why not start back at chapter one!
Please be warned that the latter part of this chapter does contain adult content that would rise to the level of an M rating! If that's not your bag, no worries - I have a warning marked within the story so you know when to stop reading!
Olivia usually left shopping to Lucy, but with all that was going on she thought she could benefit from something mundane and normal to calm her nerves. Early afternoon on Sunday Barba had met the Bensons at Key Food, a grocery store in their neighbourhood. He announced his presence by grabbing a bag of marshmallows off a shelf and tossing it into the cart that Noah was pushing.
"Rafa!" Noah wrapped his arms around the man's waist and didn't let go. It was a more effusive greeting than Barba would have expected considering he'd just seen Noah the day before. But though so much had happened since his return, he recognized that in actuality very little time had passed and they were all still adjusting to him being back from Washington. This would explain why he had instinctively reached down to lift Noah into his arms and hug him properly for a long moment.
Eventually he deposited Noah into the main section of the cart and helped to shift some things around so he could get comfortable. Olivia handed her son their shopping list and told him he was in charge of navigation. This made their trek through the store a lot less orderly and efficient, but the adults weren't going to complain as it allowed for Olivia's hands to be on the cart while Barba's hands were on her, at her hips, the small of her back, squeezing her shoulders. And it was all so domestic and yet so new and lovely.
On their way to the aisle containing dishwasher detergent, Barba was prompted to share how his visit that morning with his mother had gone. When Noah had heard the parts that interested him and had checked out of the conversation, Olivia asked what she really wanted to know. "Did you tell her?"
"Nope. I wanted to give you a reprieve before the meddling starts."
"YOU a reprieve, you mean."
"How about we say "us" and leave it at that?"
She just grinned. "And she didn't figure it out?"
"She could see that I was relaxed and happy. She assumed it was because I'd enjoyed my time in Washington, and that was really all we talked about."
Brunch had taken place close to his old neighbourhood. He had arrived early and had told the cab to drop him off a few blocks away so he could walk, which gave time for memories and reflection. It occurred to him that he wanted to bring Noah there someday so he could tell him stories of what life was like for him growing up.
"There's only barbecue sauce left on the list," Noah announced, and his mother praised him for being able to deduce such a difficult word.
As Noah took a moment to try to determine which direction to go, Olivia turned to Barba. "Do we need anything for tonight?" she asked, her slightly lowered voice making the question seem much more suggestive than she meant it to.
"I'm well stocked for any and all eventualities," he assured her, smirking.
"'Any and all', huh?"
"Well, that's if you bring your own handcuffs."
After stopping by the apartment to put away the groceries, they gave in to Noah's request to play in the park. Barba excused himself to go home before supper, and Olivia didn't stop him because she needed time to prepare. She fed Noah, only lightly snacking herself as she wanted to avoid feeling bloated and heavy going into her date. Then after sending the boy to his room to play Lego and wait for Lucy, she locked herself in her bathroom. She was glad she'd spent some time that morning on several of the more onerous self grooming tasks. What was left was more fun, and when she was done she looked good, she smelled good, and best of all she FELT good.
Lucy arrived at 6:30 and did her best to hold her tongue, but it was clear that she was completely aware of where Olivia was going and what was planned. When she all but pushed her boss toward the door and told her to get out of there and have fun, Olivia blushed and Lucy laughed. Then suddenly Olivia embraced her, thanked her, and Lucy squeezed her back, understanding that the thanks went far beyond her making it possible for Olivia to have a night out.
Olivia had opted to do casual rather than try for sexy in her appearance and her demeanor, and the way Barba looked at her when she arrived at his place immediately assured her that she'd made the right choice.
As he led her inside, she said, "I've got to admit, I thought you might get all silly about this and I'd be met with rose petals and candles and soft music."
"You haven't been in the bedroom yet."
She frowned. "You didn't."
"No, I didn't. I think I know you a little better than THAT." He faced her, smiling. "And just to be clear, there is no hurry, and no expectations. Whether or not we at some point get naked will not in any way dampen how glad I am that you're here."
She laid a tender hand on his cheek and said in a serious, sincere voice, "As long as getting naked isn't off the table."
He laughed and took her overnight bag from her. "It most definitely is not." He led her into the bedroom and placed the bag on his bed. "Anything in here you don't want me to see?"
"Nothing you haven't seen before," she said with a dismissive wave, watching as he proceeded to unfold and unpack the garment bag section, hanging her outfit for the next day in his closet. She grabbed her toiletries and brought them to the bathroom, returning to see him deposit the rest of her clothes in of one of his dressers.
"I cleared out a drawer for you." He paused. "I hope that doesn't freak you out."
"Nope, not at all. Very thoughtful of you, Counselor."
"I do try, Lieutenant."
And then it happened, something so foreign and unexpected for them: An awkward pause and an awkward silence.
"So. Uh… what now?" Barba blushed cutely and it made Olivia a little braver.
"Well…" she began thoughtfully. "What would we be doing right now if we HADN'T essentially scheduled a sex date?"
"Before or after...?" He gestured between them.
"Let's play it safe and say 'before'."
"Well, after Noah would go to bed, you'd be working or half asleep on the couch, and I'd probably be doing your laundry or something."
"So what you're saying, Cinderella, is that the thrill is gone."
They shared a chuckle. "I'm teasing, of course," he assured her. "We could have a glass of wine and try for casual conversation, I suppose. Though we could also go out for awhile."
"Actually, it's a really nice night. Maybe just a walk around the block to work out our butterflies?"
"Do you actually have butterflies?" He was in front of her now in the middle of his bedroom, toe-to-toe, his hands coming to rest lightly at her hips.
"You don't?"
"Oh, I definitely do." His half smile was self-deprecating. "I feel like I'm 17 again and worried about not being able to unhook a girl's bra if the need arose."
"Then it's your lucky day, Barba - I'm wearing a sports bra. Nothing to unhook."
"Well, that's a relief." And then they were grinning, and then kissing, and then he was gripping the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it over her head. "Liar," he accused when he discovered that she was NOT, in fact, wearing a sports bra, but a simple white underwire with a front clasp.
"Guilty," she admitted. "But in my defense it seemed to help bolster your confidence. Now why don't you show your teenaged self a thing or two." He chuckled against her mouth as her lips found his again and she guided his hands to the clasp, which he released with no difficulty. "First try. I'm impressed."
"Shut up," he pouted, nipping her lower lip and then soothing it with his tongue before drawing his focus downward. "Remember when you told me there was a big difference between mostly naked and actually naked?"
"Vaguely." Was her voice shaking? His hands had stalled, effectively holding the garment closed and maintaining her modesty. "Are you about to tell me I was right?"
"Hmmm… Not sure yet. But I guess we're about to find out."
Though her phone was on the kitchen table where she'd dropped it on her way in, the ringing made them both jump.
"Of course," Barba said with a resigned shake of his head.
"No, it's fine. If it's Lucy, she'll call your cell if I don't answer. Everyone else can wait." The ringing stopped, and she kissed him again, trying to recapture the moment. But when he didn't immediately respond, she pulled back to ask, "What is it?"
"My phone is on the counter."
"And?"
"And I put it on vibrate so we wouldn't be interrupted."
"Of course."
He kissed the tip of her nose. "We've got all night," he reminded her. "You… well, here." He reattached the clasp, allowing his fingers to lightly brush the underside of her breast before pulling his hands away. "I'll go get both of our phones."
When he returned, she was back in her T-shirt. "Was it Lucy?"
"Nope, it's Sonny," he said, even as the ringing started again. He handed it to her and couldn't help but grin at the frustration in her voice when she answered.
"Carisi, I'm off tonight. This had better be good."
It was good, but was definitely not something that she needed to handle. But by the time she'd listened and had redirected him to Fin to run point, telling him not to call her again unless something was literally on fire, any confidence she and Barba had gained from their previous interaction had escaped the room.
"So. How about that walk?" she suggested after she hung up the phone.
With no destination, their pace was slow. His hand in hers was warm and solid. Being out in public where nothing was going to happen brought back their courage, and after chiding themselves and each other on their foolishness, their easy camaraderie returned.
"Can I ask you something I've been curious about?" Barba broached.
"Of course."
"I'd be concerned that it would kill the mood, but then Carisi has already done a fine job on that."
"We've got all night, Rafa. I'm sure we'll recover. What's your question?"
"Well, you've been with SVU for a long time. I've been interested to know how that affects your feelings toward sex in general. And I know that rape is about power, but there's still a sex act wrapped up in there."
"Huh." But after a few thoughtful moments, she turned the tables. "You're not exactly new to the scene. Has it changed things for you?"
"I think it has, in some ways. Though it's not well tested as to how that translates into actual encounters - I'm not exactly Cassanova."
She bumped against his shoulder. "Is this the point of the evening where we have to list previous sex partners?"
"Is that a thing now?"
"No, but in this moment I'll admit my interest is piqued."
"How about you go first?"
She felt no hesitance. "The only people I've slept with in a good long time are the ones you already know about. You?"
"There was a woman I was casually seeing when I first made the move to Manhattan, but that tapered off pretty quickly. We reconnected a few times over the years - "
"'Reconnected', huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
He smirked and squeezed her fingers. "I wouldn't venture to guess. But yeah, other than her, no one since I met you."
"Really."
"You sound surprised."
They stopped at a crosswalk, giving her time to turn into him, her free hand on his chest. "I think it's safe to say objectively that you're an attractive guy with a lot going for you, including some pretty snappy suits that I'm sure have seen you get hit on plenty."
"Kind of you to say, even if your bias is showing." He pressed his lips to hers for a long moment, and then the light changed and they kept walking. "But to be honest, women tend to hit on me when they find out what I do - well, did. It's the men that hit on me because of the suits."
"I'll bet," she told him, not at all skeptical of his claim, as she'd had occasion to see it with her own eyes. "But no one you wanted to take home? Or 'take home to mother'?"
"Definitely not the latter. A few temptations on the former, maybe, but over the last year at least I haven't exactly had a lot of time to be out getting hit on."
"Because you've been at my place doing my laundry."
"A sacrifice well worth it." He dropped her hand and slipped an arm around her waist, a position she mirrored. "So I don't think you answered my original question."
"No, I guess I didn't." They walked in comfortable silence as Olivia considered it. "I think more than anything my job has made me more deliberate about sex."
"Like, more cautious?"
"No, not cautious. Though maybe in a way - I mean, I haven't really had a lot of interest in casual sex, and maybe what I do plays a part in that. But in terms of sex within relationships, it's more that I try to be aware of the choices I'm making, and how the person I'm with is affected by those choices. But when I'm with someone, I'm not equating that with the things I've seen. Is that what you meant?"
"Kind of. But I guess I more wondered if sex still has a lot of meaning for you. Like, if you can still see it as something special when you've also seen it used as a tool for such horrible abuses."
"Ah." She was following better now, and correctly sensed he wasn't looking to be placated or reassured but to actually know her thoughts on the matter, so she gave herself the time to form them. "I can't say I've ever consciously drawn those parallels, and I don't know that I could point out anything that my therapist would label as coming from some kind of unconscious trauma. So yay me for effective compartmentalizing, I guess."
"You deserve a medal."
"Or a plaque at least." They grinned at one another and then decided on a left turn, their second, so that they were now headed back in the right direction but just one block over. "But I'll admit I have a habit of using sex as a different sort of tool, and maybe that made it a little less special."
"What do you mean?"
It took her some time to put it into words, as it was something she'd never spoken of with anyone before. "I've definitely found myself using sex to try to create deeper intimacy, or at least the illusion of it, when it just wasn't happening on its own. And I'd justify it by telling myself I was so busy out saving the world, and that it was okay that I didn't have the time or the energy to really put in the work on my relationships. It was always a convenient shortcut to fall into bed then try to figure things out. Know what I mean?"
"I understand completely, and I think we might be quite similar in that way."
They walked silently for a while in contemplation. And then she stopped him, smiling brightly. "But you know what's great about us, Rafa? We've already done the work."
"You bet we have," he agreed readily, relieved by the thought. "We've got intimacy in the bag."
"Right? We totally nailed it, and we didn't even realize we were trying."
"That's worthy of a medal AND a plaque." He always loved it when things between them grew playful, and he was learning that it was made so much better by the addition of open flirtation and being able to kiss her with tongue. "So if old habits don't have to die hard in this case, what do WE get to use sex for, if not to try to create intimacy?" he asked after he finally pulled away.
"Hmmm… I don't know. Just to reflect the intimacy we already have, I guess."
He'd been expecting her, baiting her, to make a joke about pleasure, potentially a crude one. But her response instead took his breath away with its depth and sincerity. He pressed their foreheads together, their breath mingling. "Then I guess sex can still be pretty damned special after all."
They didn't speak again until they were back at Barba's place. "How's your butterflies?" she asked him as she toed off her shoes.
"They appear to have flown away. Yours?"
"Same."
"Awesome. Then let's get down to business before Carisi calls again."
"If he does, I'll let you answer."
RATED M SECTION STARTS HERE!
This time it took him multiple tries to unclasp her bra, but in his defense he managed it with his teeth while both of them giggled. But once it had been removed completely some of their silliness dissolved, replaced in the absence of nervousness by pure arousal.
Her pants soon followed, and while he remained fully clothed, Barba kept his hands and mouth busy. After a few minutes he paused to ask, "Is this okay?"
Affirmative consent. Even after all they'd been through, he was looking for affirmative consent.
"I promise I won't be shy about telling you if anything ISN'T okay, and I hope you'll return the favour."
"I will," he promised earnestly, so earnestly they both chuckled.
"But for the record, what you are doing right now is definitely okay."
"So it would seem. You're very squirmy."
She was too far gone to be embarrassed. His light exploration of her upper thighs and what lay between them, the tracing of his fingers along the dampened fabric of her panties, the feel of his mouth against her earlobe, her neck, her breasts, it was all lovely, exciting, and apparently too much.
The orgasm was unexpected and shallow. She pressed his hand harder against her to try to increase the sensation but to little avail.
He was attuned enough to sense her frustration. "Sorry, Liv. I didn't realize you were close."
"Neither did I." She linked their fingers and moved his hand away from her centre. "That one was a freebie. The rest you have to work for."
"I believe I offered 'several' and 'sensational'. And I intend to deliver."
"I appreciate your commitment," she teased. "I just need a few minutes."
"Of course. Tell me when."
"Don't worry - you'll know."
It all ended up serving to Olivia's advantage, removing some of the urgency and allowing her to give in further to chasing the experience rather than fighting to prolong it. It also allowed her to focus on Barba and his pleasure.
She took her time undressing him, feeling like she was unwrapping a gift, kissing his skin as it was bared to her. His button-down and undershirt divested, she went to work cataloguing where he was sensitive, where he was ticklish, where a shiver or a catch of breath might be drawn from him by her tongue or teeth or the light scraping of her nails.
Eventually she moved down the bed and pulled off his socks. "So is it true what they say about men with big feet?"
"Yes, actually. It is," he deadpanned.
Olivia raised an eyebrow, but Barba just shrugged. When he saw her glance toward the front of his pants he had to laugh. "If you don't believe me, you're welcome to find out for yourself."
"Oh, I intend to." She wasted no time, her hands running up his legs over his khaki slacks, brushing over the bulge at his fly before releasing the button and carefully pulling at the zipper.
Barba appeared to be in no hurry and just lay watching her to see what she would do.
His boxers were silk, and she liked the way he felt beneath them. "Lift your hips," she instructed, and he did so as she eased his trousers down and off, leaving his underwear in place.
Now that they were similarly attired she mounted him, kissed him, her breasts pressed to his bare chest and his hands travelling anywhere they could reach. When she began to move against him he stopped her, flipping them over so she was prone on the bed. And with little ceremony he removed her panties and buried his face between her legs.
"Oh, my God," she exclaimed as his tongue lapped at her opening and then slipped inside. "Jesus Christ, Barba." Her hands were in his hair, and it was unclear even to her whether she was trying to push him away or keep him in place.
"Don't hold back," he told her, kissing her inner thigh before returning to his work, adding a finger, then another, deep strokes, using this thumb and tongue to stimulate her further.
She was writhing, panting, largely unaware of the string of mild curses and exclamations and encouragement leaving her mouth. And then she was coming undone, and it WAS sensational, made all the more so by how he managed to follow her cues and read her body so that he was easing off just as she needed him to.
He disappeared soon after, but she was too blissed out to notice or care. He returned smelling of mint - how considerate! - and with a warm damp cloth which he gently ran between her legs. Task completed, he lay beside her, facing her, and waited for her to come back to her senses.
Eventually she rolled onto her side and then she was kissing him lazily, humming in contentment. "I very much enjoyed that," she told him unnecessarily, running her fingers down his chest, his stomach, toying with the waistband of his boxers.
"I very much enjoyed that, too," he said sincerely with a tender smile.
"Well, that's lucky." She kissed him again. "Just give me a moment and I'll return the favour."
"I would definitely not be opposed, but take your time. I am also very much enjoying this." And he certainly was. He loved kissing her, holding her, the feel of her bare skin against his. He loved the knowledge that this is what she wanted, that she had chosen this, chosen him, not on a whim but after years of getting to know each other, of growing their friendship, their relationship, their intimacy.
But then her hand was expertly wrapped around him and he was suddenly unable to comprehend why they hadn't been doing this all along.
After finally getting naked he soon figured out she was planning to take things slower than he had with her, and that suited him just fine. Her fingers and mouth were exquisite and the build incredible. Still, by the time she reached for the condom he'd laid out on the bedside table, he was more than ready to move things along.
He was strangely touched when she laid back against the pillows and looked at him expectantly. The fact that the strongest woman he knew was willingly and enthusiastically inviting him to assume a physical position of power brought a lump to his throat. If the blood that was normally servicing his brain hadn't been diverted to parts south, he would have recognized that it was exactly because he was the type of man to experience a rise of sentiment and not of ego in this situation that she was so open to giving up her control.
He settled his body over hers, supporting his weight but flush against her. "I am so in love with you," he heard himself blurting before he could stop himself. But he could tell by the tears that came to her eyes and the ferocity of her kiss that she felt the same way.
He entered her carefully, waited for her to adjust and begin to move before he set a slow rhythm. Their kisses grew languid, leisurely, to match, and they were able to just enjoy each other for a long while in this way.
"I've got to say, counselor, your stamina is impressive," she commented cheekily when he started to pick up the pace.
He let the teasing compliment pass without response. He certainly wasn't about to tell her that he'd taken care of himself as soon as he'd arrived back at home in the hopes it would take the edge off and allow him to last a bit longer than he suspected he otherwise would, especially based on the previous evening and how close he had come to embarrassing himself when they were still fully clothed.
Now he could feel the pressure building, but he still had the wherewithal to focus on her. "Can you finish this way? What do you need?"
"I think I can. Just let me know when you're close and I can help myself along."
"Do you want to change positions?"
"Yeah, maybe. Let me get on top." He rolled them so he was on his back, managing not to break contact as she raised herself to an upright position astride him. She rolled her hips experimentally, and was able to find some friction. "Yeah, this is good. What do YOU need?" she asked as she began to move again.
He thrust up into her, trying to match the rhythm she was setting. "This. You." He palmed her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples. He was starting to lose control, his hips stuttering.
"Just be still," she told him. "I'll get you there."
After a few more answering thrusts he gave in to her, letting her take charge. And now it was him spouting nonsense, first in English and then in Spanish, telling her how good she felt, how beautiful she was, how much he adored her. His commentary punctuated by the undignified slapping of skin against skin, by gasps and shudders. "Liv, are you -"
"Yeah, I'm - " She grabbed for his hand and pressed it against her. "Oh, God."
And before her orgasm had fully crested he had rolled them again so now he was pounding into her and she couldn't quite tell but she thought maybe she was coming again. And then she could feel his body stiffen and jerk before he fell limp on top of her.
It took him a full minute before he was able to move, and even then it was a herculean task undertaken only due to his fear of crushing her. He collapsed heavily beside her, still trying to catch his breath. "Wow."
"Yeah." She looked over at him and he looked back at her, and Olivia found herself unable to suppress a giggle. Before long they were both laughing until tears streamed down their faces and it was perfect, absolutely perfect, and more special than they ever could have dreamed.