A/N: HEEEEEEY. I know, I've been lacking on this story for the longest. I had some writers block, there's the whole grad school thing, and then my current internship have left me drained/struggling (but omg, I wish I could tell y'all half of what I've learned/who i've met/reached out to in this job). BUUUUUT I'm here. I hope you can enjoy this very fluffy update. This story is almost complete (and I say almost so don't go hollering, I have other stories up and ones I'd like to try and go back to like Sleep on the Floor). I can't believe it.
Please enjoy all this fluff because there's still some rocky loose ends to tie up.
-M
The feel of his breath dragging through his broad chest lulls her into a light sleep. They're sitting on her living room floor, Olivia in between Fitz's legs; his chest pressed tightly to her back and his arms caging her close. Every now and then he kisses the back of her head, the side of her cheek, and whispers sweet, almost inaudible, words of reassurance and affirmation. Words she's tried to run from until now. They've been like this for nearly three hours, moving from the couch to the floor. Only breaking away from each other when it's absolutely necessary; neither even attempting to move nor broach her confession.
But a hollow peace is just that and Olivia knows from years of being at 'peace' with her father that it's better to let it out. She sits forward and gathers her strength, sliding away from his arms and him, turning so that she can see his face. Her body misses his warmth almost instantaneously despite the heat outdoors.
"You probably have things you want to ask me," her voice nearly hurts as the words leave her lips. She drags her eyes upwards to see his smile not quite reach his eyes. "I think, I think I can answer them now."
Fitz sits forward. "I didn't have any questions at first. Not when you said all of that. I only had the urge to kill Edison Davis. Admittedly, it's still there."
Olivia's eyes widen and she touches his knee. "Hey, no."
"That urge isn't going to go away soon, if ever, Livvie. I…what he did. I've seen it before. My father surrounded himself with men like that; it's why I never played politics and couldn't understand why Mellie – my wife – did. A bunch of men in power using it to hurt other people, no. Never."
She swallows and her eyes slipped close. Try as she might, the embarrassment still blooms. "I – you can't frame it like that Fitz. He did hurt me, but I was a willing participant. I was. I…chased him. I sought him out and I knew he was married. I did those things with him – for him because I chose to do them."
"Coercion isn't a choice, Olivia. And the most insidious thing about it is that it feels like it is one. You might have pursued him – which I'm calling bullshit on, too; he knew what he was doing when you 'pursued' him – but he was the aggressor here. This is on him."
She doesn't nod, nor respond, truly. She turns away and a lone teardrop slips down her cheek. Fitz's finger tips wipe it away and he lifts her chin. Her therapist has been telling her a good deal of what he's saying, what he's said, but it's hard for her to take it in. Not when she feels like she's the one who's to blame. "Since when do priests say bullshit?" She gives him a water smile.
"When it's necessary." He smiles back. "I don't understand why you thought that this meant I shouldn't love you."
Once more she pulls away, leaving his hand suspended in midair before he drops to the floor again. "You were married with a wife. You've been with one woman and then God, Fitz…"
"Two. Two women."
"That's not the point. I just…I don't feel like I'm good enough for you. There was, probably still are, tapes of me doing things that are exactly holy. My dad said he got all of them, but if I didn't even know they existed…"
"This definitely explains why your dad showed up at my office. You think you're going to hurt me, he thinks I'm going to hurt you. I don't think I'm the right man for you, you don't think you're the right woman for me and yet here we are…" He chortles and shakes his head. "Olivia Pope, listen to me. And listen good. I don't care what you've done. Or what was done to you when you were hurting all of those years ago, looking for someone to see your pain. I don't care because I know what you've felt and we both chose to cope in different ways. I closed myself off to everyone and gave up my life. You…"
"Became the stupid little girl looking for daddy's love in all of the wrong men. I know, Fitz, I don't need it rehashed. After my mom died, my dad just stopped dealing with me. I didn't see it then, but that was his way of coping and I got mad at him and…"
"Hey, I wasn't finished talking to you. I said you were going to listen and now damn it, woman, I meant it." His voice ticks upward, the bravado coming through strong.
Olivia's eyes widen as she silently questions his boldness, but quiets nonetheless.
"Listen to me. Listen," he demands. "I love you. I am in love with you and there isn't anything you could say to me to change that. There is nothing. You are my first and last thoughts when I wake up in the morning and I am standing right here because I want to be with you. For however long you'll have me, Olivia Carolyn Pope. I want you."
A genuine look of confusion crosses her face; her lips thin out, her eyebrows crook together, and she tilts her head. Is this how she felt when she made the same confession weeks prior, blurting it out after coming down from an all-consuming orgasm. Did he feel lightness in his chest, but the fear inkling in his soul? Did he feel his chest widen but also tighten? Did he…
"Livvia, do you love me, too?"
"Please…"
"You've already said it once. I just…I need to hear you say it again. Do you love me, too?"
She wonders when the words became so hard to say after she'd said them so easily the first time. He knows all of her now. The things she wants hidden, he knows. He knows and he's sitting here still, hand out for her to take asking for her love. And she's having a hard time saying it. Not because she doesn't love him, not because she isn't in love with him, but….
"I'm scared, Fitz," she confesses. "I'm afraid that one day you'll wake up and you won't…you'll decide that you don't want to hide anymore and that I wasn't worth breaking your vows. You'll decide that you enjoy being a priest more than me and then we're done for. Realistically, how much longer could we even keep this up? You're…"
"Liv."
"You're a priest. A man of the cloth. Oh God. We've had sex."
"Livvie."
"How do you – who do you ask to be forgiven for that even? Do I have to ask? No, no, no." She feels her thoughts begin to spiral, one jumping on top of the other. Worry wraps around her and she feels like she can't do this. She had been so certain earlier that she wanted to have this conversation and now that they're having it, she's losing it.
"Olivia!" Fitz's voice is firm. He cups her chin and pulls her face up until she's looking at him. She tries to look away but he stops her gently. "I left."
The groove between her eyes tightens. "You what?"
"I walked away. That's what you caught the end of earlier. I'm leaving."
Olivia jerks away from his hold, her head shaking fiercely. "No, no. Fitz, you can't! This school means everything! I can't. You cannot leave the school so that we can…. No. You love that school and your job. I refuse."
"Woah, if I wanted to leave St. Gabriel's, Liv, that'd be on me. And I'm not leaving. I'm leaving the priesthood."
"What?"
"I don't want to leave St. Gabriel's. It isn't up to me at this point, it's up to the diocese whether or not they want a non-clergyman heading up the school, but right now, I'm not leaving. Like you, as long as the school will have me, I'm going to be there."
Her head spins; it's been such a long and emotionally draining day, yet somehow she still crawls into his lap. She still slings a thigh over each of his and smiles through stray tears. She kisses each of his cheeks, his forehead, bumps her nose against his, and then presses a tender kiss to his lips.
"No more guilt for either of us?" Olivia asks. "No more?"
"No more, baby."
"Are you sure?" Her voice cracks.
"I am."
/
The living room of her apartment becomes their makeshift bed as they rid one another of their clothes. There is still so much to sort through, so much to sort out – like, for instance, how Fitz can get ahold of Edison Davis and ruin him – but for now, he's reveling in this moment. Their bodies are connected in the most intimate of ways. She rides him in slow, agonizing circles, mouth parted, hands gripping his shoulders and head as he presses slow kisses to her neck.
Fitz takes pleasure in hearing her pant, cry out softly while one of his hands grips her ass and the other supports her back. He holds her impossibly close, watching and waiting for any signs of discomfort or displeasure. Her nipples are tight pebbles, brushing against his chest and he isn't sure just how much longer he can go, but he's eager to get her there first. Who the hell knows how long they've been at this now, exploring and rediscovering what they've denied themselves for weeks.
"So close…" Olivia whispers. She leans forward and Fitz abandons the tender flesh locked between his tongue and teeth to look her in the eyes. Her eyelids are hooded, heavy. She looks drunk as she holds onto him tighter, raising up on his dick just slightly while pressing her clit into his public bone. "Shit…baby."
He focuses in on follow the motion she's setting, feeling as she becomes needier, gripping him tighter, thighs starting to shake around him. Her pleasure keeps him focused; keeps him from zoning in on the nearly painful sensations raging his lower body. His dick is begging for a release and it takes everything in Fitz to ignore it.
"Let go, Livvie, let…" he lets go of her ass and wraps it around her waist, lifts his hips and slams into her.
"Oh, God…oh God…oh…"
He swallows her moans, pressing his lips to hers, sliding his tongue into her mouth and then she shatters. Hot, tight, and wet, she explodes, and sinks her teeth into his tongue, scalp, and shoulder. He hisses, angling his hips upward and pounding into her until he explodes with a guttural cry. "Liv!" Her name is a hymn rolling off his lips, tongue still numb from her bite.
She clutches him, convulsing slightly and he wears her skin like a second skin, navigating his own return from his high. She's all over, everywhere around him and in him. He breathes her in, taking note of the hints of peppermint in her curly hair.
Their chests expand with and release air in tune. Fitz's eyes feel heavy, but Olivia's fingertips on his cheek force his eyes to stay open. He angles his chin downward, to where Olivia's head has fallen into the crook of his shoulder, her back slightly bent.
"I've never bitten anyone before…" she whispers, brushing her hands over his lips. "I'm sorry."
He catches her fingers between her teeth, bites down gently and then lets go. "I liked it."
She giggles as her eyes slip closed. "You're such a pervert."
"Says the woman naked in my lap."
"Touché…" She moves and he slips out of her, the loss of contact leaves them both sighing in disappointment. "I think we should get cleaned up. We didn't even put anything down on my floor. I'd hate to—"
He doesn't let her finish her thoughts, his mind already onto something more important. He lifts her easily, though his knees creak under the added weight, and makes a beeline for her bathroom. The first time he stayed the night with her, he had paid close attention to the antique bathroom fixtures her apartment had to offer, the clawfoot tub being one of his favorites.
"Fitz, there's no way in hell I can stand for a shower right now…"
He blushes at her candidness and gently sets her down.
"What are you doing?" she asks, peering over the side of the tub, at him.
"Cleaning us up." He gives her his lopsided grin and watches as her cheeks tint red.
"Us?"
"Yeah, if you'd move and stop hogging the bathtub…"
"What if I don't want you in here with me? You're dirty…"
"Did you forget what we just did? What we've been doing for the last – I honestly don't know; time disappears when I'm with you."
Olivia doesn't say anything and Fitz's chest swells with pride. His tongue still aches, he can feel the scratch marks on his back and the carpet burn setting in on his ass, but he's so stupidly happy that he doesn't care. He busies himself with finding a temperature they can both agree on and lets the tub fill up almost half way before he slides in behind her. The water rises around them and Olivia leans back. The damp ends of her hair stick to his chest and for a moment they just exist simply as two lovers should; in the moment without the world brought in.
Fitz's wet fingers dance up her upper arms and he loves the feel of her skin against his. He will never let her go. His eyes slip closed and he kisses the top of her head.
"Fitz?"
"Hmm?" he asks, eyes popping open.
"I love you. I'm in love with you and we're…we're in this together."