A/N: This is a prequel to 9 Crimes. Mature. You have been warned.
"You left. Without one word Elliot, without one goddamned word, you don't get to just sit on my stoop, follow me up to my apartment with those puppy dog eyes and act like we can just go back to being Benson and Stabler"
She spits it out at him, hot acid on her tongue burning like fire against his skin. His mouth flails for a moment, tries to find the words to explain. But he can't, not when he looks in her cappuccino colored eyes and sees the brokenness, the pain he's inflicted. He had never meant to hurt her, that much is true, but he couldn't face looking at her after Jenna. He couldn't subject himself to the pain of feeling like he let her down. So he ran, so far away he could barely find himself, and yet, one look in her eyes and he's home again.
"Liv…I'm sorry"
OoO
The words nearly break her, crack the dam inside of her that's been bursting at the seams since the day she realized he was walking away.
"We're partners, for better or worse…better or worse…better or worse"
It's the words that echo through her brain on quiet nights. It doesn't inspire the body wracked sobs his leaving induced but the silent cries that feel like a sharp blade through taut flesh. She's spent so many nights, in bed, two ears full of tears, willing her body to forget…to fall asleep for a moment but he's still there, in her dreams, all around her, inside of her.
A part of her hates it, the way they are so intricately bound to each other; that he resides so deep inside of her she can't quite shake him from her system. She wondered if it would always be that way, and she thought there was some escaping…loving a stranger, letting herself imagine a life with him, a future without Elliot Stabler. When it imploded, it was as if her house of cards all came tumbling down and she was forced to accept how ingrained in her he had always been.
It was never a choice, not consciously, but it had been there from the first moments, like the invisible red string that ties two people together.
OoO
He's not expecting the swing, and it throws him off balance for a moment, and he allows her fists to pound at his chest for a couple long moments before he grabs her biceps and pulls her back to look at her.
"Don't tell me you're sorry" she cries out, "Don't"
There is a raw, brokenness in her words…her eyes. And her lips are wet, flushed with fury, her eyes shimmering with anger and tears and all he wants to do is to make this better, make her understand, and that's when his mouth crashes on hers.
OoO
She can taste their tears mixing together on her lips, enveloped by the familiar cologne he wears, the taste of mint on his tongue. It takes her a few long moments to realize what is happening, to feel her fingernails dig into his skin as he steals the breath from her with his kiss. It's intoxicating, making her lightheaded, dizzy, her skin prickling with heat, her nerves lit like live wires.
Pushing him away she looks up at him, wide eyed, her hand coming to her mouth to touch at her bruised lips, "What the fuck are you doing"
He rubs at his jaw, his fingers trailing over his lips. He didn't really understand why he had done it…it was instinctual, like he was running on all cylinders and it was the only thing that made sense.
"I, fuck" he tries to get out.
Their eyes meet, and in an instant he's closing the short space between them, looking into her eyes for some sort of affirmation. There is anger, pain, sadness, and yet in the toffee swirls there is something that has him wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush to him.
It's not a soft kiss, not the romantic kind he's imagined before, where he sensuously suckles at her lips. This is born in pain, sadness, anger, and it dies in the need they have to consume each other with the gnashing of teeth, the struggle to possess, to control.
His hands aren't idle, after twelve fucking years of abstaining, of having to watch the way her backside curved in her slacks; he needs to touch her, to feel her, to make sure she's real. He wants to memorize her body with his fingertips, to imprint them on his brain, to know every slope and valley of her.
Her hands slide down his back, fingernails digging through the light cotton tee he has on, imprinting herself on him; like if he ever thinks of walking away again, she will remain on him the way he has on her.
OoO
It's wrong. Her brain is screaming it but her body and her heart betray her. She's loved this man, more than anyone, for years, quietly in the shadows but she's tired of being silent…she's tired of loving from a distance.
She sinks her nails into his skin and he groans into her mouth, grabbing her bottom lip between his teeth, rocking his hips against hers, his hardening length pushing at her. She wants him, she can no longer deny it…she wants him inside of her, all around her, stealing the very oxygen that keeps her alive.
Strong hands slide to her abdomen, slowly dancing up, her ribcage, to the swell of her breasts. He pulls back to look at her, searching her eyes "Tell me you want this"
The way he says it, the gentle rasp, all she can do is nod, pull his head down, his lips back on hers as his hand cups her breasts, his thumb swiping over her hardening nipple.
A moan escapes her throat and dies on his tongue and he roughly palms her breasts, massaging it, letting her nipple rub against his palm. He craves more, all of her, every inch of her skin sliding against his. Nimble fingers don't bother with popping buttons; instead he rips the sides of her button down, sending the small pieces spread across her living room floor.
He pulls it off of her, down her arms, tossing it across the room, reaching around her back to unclasp her bra, their mouths still connected, tongues still swirled and dueling.
The only reason he pulls away is because he needs to see her. He is the wandering man in the desert, aching for thirst, and she is his oasis. Her full breasts, golden toned, stand there for him, her nipples hard, deeply colored, and he wants to stare at her for hours, admiring the canvas of her body.
"Fucking beautiful" is all he can ground out before he is sinking to his knees, his mouth looming over her breast.
His tongue darts out to flick her nipple and she whimpers, her body curving into him, and he takes the nub between his lips, suckling, loving the way it's peak feels against his tongue. He bites, tugs, loving the way she mews, her fingers running down his scalp as he lavishes attention on her breasts. He doesn't pull back until they are both shimmering in his saliva, wet, hot, standing proudly at attention.
"Liv"
She shakes her head, "Don't talk" is all she says before her fingers are tugging at the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him. Her long fingers trail down his muscles, sliding down his skin, and it's too much, too intense, and he grabs her wrists.
They both know they can stop now; it's the point of no return. They can both put on their clothes, he can drive back across the city to Kathy, and they can pretend it never happened.
Both know they can't do that. Tonight there hadn't been a choice…there had never been one and it was too late to stop what had been set in motion years ago.
He pulls her to him, their bare chests pressed together, her nipples sliding down his skin and he roughly unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down around his ankles before hooking his thumbs into her waistband and pulling her slacks and panties down at the same time as she kicks them off.
Reaching around, he cups her ass, crashes his mouth to hers and raises her. His length slides against her slickened folds, teasing, rubbing, wetness sliding down him with every movement as his tongue plunges into her mouth.
The moment she bites down on his bottom lip he pins her to the wall and plunges inside of her in one long swoop. He settles there for a moment, feeling her twitch and clench around him. Her skin is flushed, glowing, and he looks at her, deeply into her eyes as he pulls out enough to thrust back into her.
Nails dig into his shoulders as he begins the quick paced plunging into her, pounding, slamming, the sound of their skin slapping filling the quiet room. Her fingernails dig into him, his teeth on her neck biting, suckling, marking her as he dives inside of her relentless.
Their bodies glisten with sweat, sliding against each other with each upward thrust. Her heels dig into his ass, the soft thud of her body against the wall, fueling his strokes, his fingers curled into her hips.
She's panting, whimpering as she clenches, and he can feel himself swell inside of her, needing release, needing to feel her explode around him. His fingers slide between them, to her clit, pinching, rubbing, so close to succumbing to the pleasure.
He can feel her tense, the strangled moan ripped from her throat as her body jerks and writhes, the orgasm ripping through her. It's then he allows himself to swell, his head thrown back, roaring as he spurts inside of her.
They are both breathless, panting, his forehead resting against hers, afraid of what happens next.
Finally she pushes against him, forcing him to part from her. Her eyes are wide, wild, and she looks away quickly, "You…go…now"
"Liv"
She grabs the clothing off the floor and moves towards the bedroom, attempting to cover herself. When she reaches the hallway she looks back at him, "This can't happen again"
But they both know she's lying.