Summary: Elliot and Olivia get frisky in a car, guess who sees?

AN: I've not forgotten about "That Kind of Friends." I promise chapter 4 is coming. I hope that this update was enough to tide you over.

Thank you for reading!

No beta, mistakes are all mine. As always comment, favorite, and follow if you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading!


Elliot and Olivia were headed back to the Organized Crime Control Bureau from a quick lunch date. Ever since they started dating, they'd tried to make it a habit to get lunch together once a week. Usually, they would meet somewhere, or on the (very frequent) occasion when Olivia was too busy, Elliot would drop by with take-out and coffee.

Despite the renovations to the 1-6, Elliot still felt at home walking through those doors. Olivia, on the other hand, felt a little out of place at the Bureau. She was a Captain and had been there several times, but it was not her squad room, her office, or her team.

But since they'd disclosed their relationship, Olivia had made the effort to visit Elliot at his work.

The first time she'd paid a visit to Elliot was a surprise to him. Sitting in the passenger seat of her car, peering out the passenger window, Elliot recalls how he felt that day. Olivia walked into the Organized Crime squad room unannounced. She waltzed right up to his desk, and—in front of the lord and everyone—asked if wanted to go to lunch. It was only about three weeks ago, but the thought of that day still tingled his spine.

That day, she came to see him. She came to see him. She'd never come to see him before, it was too risky. But on that day, Olivia, on her afternoon off, dressed like a goddamn angel in a summer dress—probably one of the last ones of the season—walked right into OC and asked him if he was free for lunch.

Elliot was beside himself with glee when he agreed. He was so happy that he didn't even notice his co-workers' faces frozen in shock over the fact that the Captain Benson had just asked their Detective Stabler out for lunch. He just stood straight up and followed her out the door.

That day was only a week after they had stepped into One Police Plaza to fill out the required disclosure forms and officially informed their superiors of their relationship, and walked out hand-in-hand. They were giddy and unafraid. Now, everyone could know. Of course several people already knew, and many, many others suspected. Now, however, there was no secret. Benson and Stabler were together.

Elliot couldn't stop smiling during their lunch that day. He looked like a damn fool and didn't care one bit. Olivia had dressed up for him and came to his work to pick him up for lunch, and everyone saw it.

"Seriously El, your face is going to freeze like that, in that silly smile," she told him for the tenth time, as they walked through the small parking lot behind the Bureau returning from their lunch. It was such a nice day that day that they'd walked to a near-by deli for lunch and Elliot wanted to walk her back to her car.

"I don't care. You have no idea how happy I am," he beamed at her, swinging their hands joyfully through the air between them.

"I have an idea."

"Me too."

"Huh?"

"I have an idea," he said as he tugged on her hand and pulled her between two large SVUs in the small lot.

He pressed her back into the cool black metal and had his lips on hers before she could ask him about his idea. Though, it was obvious now. His idea was this, pinning her to a vehicle and kissing her senseless. She wasn't opposed to the idea. The two large cars blocked them from view of the Bureau, and it was just a little harmless kissing.

He groaned into her mouth as he forced his way past her lips with his tongue. She gave in, kissing him back almost desperately, her hands on the back of his head.

But when his fingers on her hips started pulling her dress up her legs, she wrenched her lips from his. "El," she hummed.

He just trailed his lips down her neck, leaving a wet skin to be cooled by the air giving her goosebumps, and his fingers inched the fabric higher and higher.

"El," she said more forcefully and pressed gently against his chest. When he lifted his head she saw that his eyes were dark, pupils were blowing, and eyelids dropped. She realized he had a much more lewd idea than just necking in the parking lot.

"El, we can't," she tried to talk sense into him, "We are in the open and outside your work."

"But we can," he argued, working to draw her body back to his, to attach her lips to his again.

"No, we can't," she says directly enough to draw reason back to the forefront of his brain.

He took a deep breath and dropped the fabric collected in his hands, then rubbed them up and down her side.

"Okay…yea…you're right," he agreed. And he knew she was right. There was no way they could do this outside his office, especially just a week after they'd disclosed and promised to remain professional.

"Sorry El," she said sweetly with a kiss to his cheek.

He shook his head at her, grabbing her hands, "No, no, don't be sorry. I shouldn't have accosted you outside my work."

"Well, at least not in broad daylight," she laughed, "after hours are more my style, remember?"

A soft, involuntary groan escapes Elliot's lips as he adjusts in his seat, on their way back to work. His thoughts about Olivia, in that dress, pressed up against the SUV, with the soft, late summer breeze blowing over their skin make his cock twitch with excitement. Rationally, he knew she was absolutely right to stop them that day. But when he is around her, he doesn't want to be rational. No. He wants to be foolish and unreasonable. She makes him downright mindless.

"You okay El?"

"Hmmm?" He turns his head from the passenger window and looks at her. And just the look of her, in her dark black slacks, dark, but thin and low-cut shirt (her blazer resting in the backseat), and her badge and holster clipped on her hip, made his head foggy.

"I asked if you were okay. Was the lunch bad?"

Olivia's eyes are focused on the road, but Elliot's eyes are focused on her lips as she talks to him. He tries to stop the heat rising in him, knowing that he is going to have to walk back into work in just a minute. But it was no use. "

"Oh, yea. I'm fine," he lies as he takes a couple calming breaths.

She finally pulls them into the small gravel lot behind the bureau, and parks near the back. She turns to tell him goodbye, "Well, I guess –"

But she's interrupted by his lips crashing onto hers. He'd failed to control himself. She looks too good and he was still aroused by the fact that she wanted him badly enough to come to him.

Harsh and needy, his tongue seeks hers. His hand immediately tangles in her hair. And after the shock of the kiss wears off, Olivia leans in, accepting his affection.


Like most days, Jet eats her lunch at her desk today. She'd grabbed it from the fridge, heated it up, then curled up in her chair. And like most days, she takes a break from her main project to flip through the security cameras around the building. Nothing usually happens during the daytime, but she always checks to make sure all the cameras are working and the video feeds are clear.

They have several cameras, most of them obvious, but due to the nature of their work, they have a handful of cameras recording the perimeter that are inconspicuous. Unless you work in tech or security, you'd never know that they were there, and even if you did work in tech or security, these were high enough quality that you'd have to really look to notice them.

She's flipping through the feeds when what she sees makes her gasp and drop her spoon. All eyes in the squad room lift to hers.

"Uh, sorry," Jet blushes at the sudden attention, partially, heat is also rising in her cheeks due to what she just saw. "It's nothing," she tries to assure her co-works, "I just lost my grip."

Most of the team is happy with that and turns back to their own work or lunch. But Sergeant Bell starts making her way to Jet's elevated desk area. Quickly, Jet hits a few keys and her screen changes back to her morning project.

"Everything okay?" Bell asks when she gets to Jet's desk.

"Uh, yea…yea, I'm fine."

Bell leans in closer and says quietly so that no one else overhears, "Detective, you cannot lie to me. What was it?"

Diverting her eyes, Jet tries again, "Nothing, nothing."

"Jet, now." Bell is calm in her direction, but Jet knows that she's going to have to show Bell what she saw on the camera in the parking lot.

"Please don't make me show you," she pleads, hoping that her tone will make Bell second guess her order.

But Sergeant Bell is a force to be reckoned with, her eyes are steel and her lips are pursed, she just lifts an eyebrow and looks at the monitor expectantly. Jet has no option but to pull up the video.

"Alright, but don't blame me when you want to gouge out your eyes with my spoon," she says as she holds up the utensil.

Jet taps a few of the keys and the feed from a camera in the parking lot pops up on her screen. Jet shrinks the size of the window so no one walking by would see it over their heads, though it's unlikely to happen.

The security camera is hidden on a post, directly in front of Olivia's parked car, giving them a clear view of the occupants' activities through the non-tinted windshield.

Bell squints, "Is that…"

"Yes." Jet confirms, not willing to say the words aloud for fear of anyone eavesdropping.

A near inaudible, "Oh god," slips through Bell's lips before her hand covers her mouth completely.

"Yea, oh god." Jet feeling somewhat vindicated, struggles not to give a sarcastic I told you so to her Sergeant.

Having seen enough, Bell whispers, "Stop the video. And delete it. Immediately."

"10-4."

Bell stands, straightens her jacket and looks around before she makes her way back to her office.


"This would have been easier in that dress you had on the other day," Elliot grunts against her collarbone, as he's forcing his hands into her pants, under the cotton of her practical work-day underwear. She lifts her hips and tugs the waistband of her slacks down a couple of inches to give him room, but her legs are still trapped together, holding his large hand close to her body. Her badge and holster, now resting on the dash.

Elliot reaches into the low cut neckline of her shirt and yanks a breast from the cup of her bra with his free hand.

It's rushed, hurried, sloppy. But she doesn't care and neither does he. She moans at the sensation of his scruff scraping against her soft skin as his lips seek out her nipple. Once he finds it, he pulls it into his mouth and sucks hard. He's not holding back. His thumb is almost too rough on her clit, and he can only get his fingers in her to his first knuckle.

But whether it's the risk of location, the bright shining sun on their faces, or the fact that he's wearing one of his fancy vests again with his sleeves rolled up, something is working right. She's dripping onto her seat.

Her feet slam into the floor of the car under the pedals; her grip on the steering wheel is so tight that her knuckles look bleached; and she tries to hold in a moan, and presses her head back roughly into the headrest of her seat.

He lets her breast go with a loud pop, and he blows over the taut nipple before his lips find hers again. His hand grips around the back of her neck, pulling her face to his, and he implores her to come with a gruff, "you gotta come 'Livia," before his tongue invades her mouth, stifling her sounds.

It only takes a couple more thrusts of his fingers, forcing them in as deep as he can, and hasty swirls of his thumb on her clit before she slams her hands against the steering wheel, narrowly missing the horn, and her body tenses in her seat.

Sensing that Olivia needs to breathe, Elliot pulls back to watch her body move. He's entranced by the way her hips roll in her seat, seeking out more of his fingers as she tries to pull everything she can from her orgasm, and how her chest heaves with one breast out of her shirt with a pebbled nipple wet from his tongue.

By the time she's opened her eyes and working to catch her breath, he's got a loopy grin on his face.

"Proud of yourself for that one, aren't you," she says, but her teasing effect is lost due to her lasting breathlessness.

"Oh yea," he retorts as he slides his fingers from her and brings them to his lips, before helping her back into her clothes.


Elliot walks through the entrance of his work a few minutes later. He stops by the bathroom to cool himself down before he returns to his desk. Olivia had asked if he needed relief, but he turned her offer down, noting that he was already late and waiting would make tonight even better.

Jet watches him as he takes his seat, peering over her large monitors. A small shudder of disgust wracks her body as he taps at his desk absentmindedly and that loopy grin still present on his face.

"You're not hungry today, Jet?" Elliot asks when he sees Jet's lunch still resting on her desk, only a couple of bites missing.

"Uh what?" She was so lost in her thoughts, unwelcome thoughts of Stabler and Benson in the car, that she hadn't heard him initially. "Uh, no, not hungry."

"Hmm, okay," Elliot says curiously before he takes his seat and logs into his computer, whistling some cheery, but otherwise unrecognizable tune.

A minute later Bell steps out of her office, and points to Elliot, "Detective Stabler, follow me." He watches her head towards the exit, surprised by her tone, before he stands and follows her outside. He tries to get a read on what to expect from the other detectives, but they just shrug or shake their heads, equally perplexed.

Wordlessly Bell leads him around the back of the building, into the parking lot, to the exact spot that Olivia's had just vacated.

Once he's standing next to her, Bell points out a small metal box under the larger metal box on the utility pole in front of the parking spot. "You see that box, right there?"

Elliot squints until he sees what she's talking about. It looks like a small utility box. "Uh, yea," he answers, completely confused why she's brought him out here to look at a box on a pole.

"It's a camera."

"Okay," he responds, still flummoxed.

"It. Is. A. Camera." Bell repeats, pausing after each word so they make it through Elliot's ears.

"Oooookay," he draws out, "Why do I need to know where that there is a camera…Fuck! No! Fuck!" he shouts as he realizes what she's telling him: where they are in the lot, what he was just doing in this very spot just moments ago. "You mean that," he points at the small box again, "that thing right there is a camera, and it's video feed–"

"Goes to software on Jet's desk," Bell nods.

"No," he counters in disbelief.

"Yes."

Elliot panics, beginning to pace back and forth and his hands rub angrily over the top of his head.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" he turns to face Bell, "Sergeant –"

"Stop. Jet is has already deleted the footage–"

He stops. He nearly gets sick to his stomach at the realization that he'd been so foolish that his actions had been caught on camera. That he'd unknowing subjected Liv, SVU Captain Benson, to being recorded engaging in semi-public sex in a police parking lot. It's one thing to accidentally be caught by a friend/colleague after hours or in his own home. But it's completely different to have a video of the activity. His hand covers his mouth as his face turns pale.

"Stabler, can you hear me?" Bell asks, when she sees that Elliot might puke.

When she'd initially seen the video on Jet's desk, she wasn't surprised. She'd known about Captain Benson and her detective for quite a while and thanks to Fin knew that he wasn't quite the Alter Boy that Flutura had implied. She actually thought she'd pull him out here, point out the camera, scold him a little, and they'd share a good laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. But the look on his face now was distress and panic, not one of an ornery man getting caught.

When Elliot doesn't respond. Bell walks over to him and directs his face to hers. "Stabler."

"Yea," he answers softly, his eyes still focused on the camera.

"The footage is gone. No one will ever know about this. Honestly, I think Jet was greener than you are right now when she saw it."

"She saw us…" he trails off, his hand rubs over his head and neck again.

"Not for long. Neither of us did."

"You? Shit! Sarg, I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry." His voice is desperate. He's been on thin ice with the department for most of his time back in the states. Sure, he'd received a combat cross, but after the public walk of shame, the entire NYPD was under scrutiny for police brutality and that meant that Stabler was still under a microscope.

"Elliot, listen to me," Bell commands and waits until Elliot meets her gaze, before continuing more softly, "The footage is gone. And I'm not writing you up this time because I don't want to drag Captain Benson into this."

"Yes Sarg. I am so sorry. It will never, ever happen again," he promises and thinks to himself that he may never actually be able to have sex with Liv again, he's so embarassed.

"Come on, Stabler," she claps his back, "We've got work to do. We can't let a little afternoon delight disrupt our work."

He waits a moment before following her back in, but she swears hears him swear, "aw fuck," under his breath.


Elliot is walking out to his car later that day when Jet comes up behind him.

Jet gets his attention quietly, with a soft, "Hey Stabler?"

He turns at the sound of the younger detective's voice. "Yea Jet?"

She speaks quickly, not wanting to drag this awkward interaction out longer than necessary. But she thinks that Elliot is the type of person who needs to see things, whether that's good or bad, she's not going to judge. "I deleted the recording from the system, but I sent you a secure link. You can access the video there for the next 48 hours. The link will expire and the video will be deleted in 48 hours."

"What?"

"I don't know. I just thought…you might…" she trails off, thinking that maybe she made the wrong choice.

"It's all good Jet," Elliot tells her. He reaches to pat her shoulder, but thinks better of it and brings his hand back down awkwardly. He should be the embarrassed one at this moment, but she's the one whose cheeks are red and can't meet his face. "And about this afternoon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean–"

"I know. Let's just agree to never mention it again." Jet offers.

"You got it. Have a good night."

She nods, places her helmet on her head, and straddles her bike.


"So, I have good news and bad news," Elliot tells Olivia nervously as they talk on the phone later that night. He knows he has to tell her, though he's not sure how she's going to respond. He wanted to do this in person. Life had different plans.

They had plans to see each other tonight, but Noah wasn't feeling well after his practice and wanted to have a "Team Benson" night. Olivia texted Elliot around 6:00, telling him that they'd have to postpone their evening and that she'd call him later.

Noah and Olivia had take out and ice cream, and started to watch a movie before Noah fell asleep on the couch by 10:00. So, Olivia was able to get into bed and dial Elliot's number by 10:45.

"El?" she asks, apprehensively.

"I'm so sorry, Liv."

Her brows furrowed anxiously, "What is Elliot?"

"No, it's just…ugh." He's laying in his bed as usual, the phone resting on his chest, and his hands scrub over his face.

Frustrated by his inability to answer her questions, tell her the bad news, she slips into her Captain voice, "What is the bad news?"

She can hear him inhale through his nose, before he finally mutters, "We were seen today."

"We were seen?" She repeats, afraid that he means exactly what she thinks he means. But he can't mean that, he just can't.

"Yes." His voice is barely more than a whisper.

She pushes again, "Today?"

"Yes," he grits out.

"As in, today in my car?"

"Yes," he confirms defeatedly, sitting up.

The confirmation causes her to jolt up in her bed, looking around her room as if the answer to this predicament could be found around her. "By who?"

"Bell and Jet."

"Damnit Elliot!" She knows she's lashing out. It's not completely his fault. Sure, he started it, but she was a very active participant in their after lunch activities.

"I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry, Liv." It comes out muffled. He's hunched over with his face in his hands.

She takes several deep breaths to calm down. She can sense his stress. And as upset as she is, she doesn't want to blame him, not completely. But she's not sure what to do with this information.

"Liv?" he asks timidly, lifting his head from his hands, talking towards the phone that's resting on his bed.

She remembers that he said he had both good and bad news, and this revolution had to be the bad news. "What's the good news?"

Elliot jumps at the opportunity to change the direction of the conversation. "Uh, Bell and Jet…they didn't actually see much. There is camera in the parking lot–"

"A camera!"

"Yes but–" he interrupts, grabbing his phone and nearly yelling into it, trying to get to the 'good' part.

"But what? We were caught on camera!"

"It's deleted! Liv, it's deleted! Bell told Jet to delete it."

She lets out a breath that she didn't know she was holding. "It's gone? Completely gone?"

"Well–"

"Elliot," she warns. She needs to know that the video is gone. She can't handle anything else tonight.

"Jet saved one copy of the video. I have it on my phone, it's the only copy, and she said the link and the video will delete in 48 hours," he tells her in a rush, desperate to finish this conversation, nearly regretting bringing it up tonight.

He can hear her thinking over the phone. "Just the one copy?"

"I trust Jet." Elliot says simply.

She sighs, finally relaxes back on to her pillows, propped up against her headboard. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I mean, I'm not happy about it, El. I'm beyond embarrassed, but we won't make that mistake again."

"No, no we won't," he agrees urgently, but relaxing back against his pillows as well, slouched low.

Olivia bites her lip. Now that the unease about being caught by Bell and Jet has started to ebb from her body (she knows she owes those women a drink, or more), curiosity starts to flow in.

"You have the video?"

Elliot picks up his phone and pulls up the message from Jet that has a random string of letters and numbers underlined. "I think, I haven't opened it."

"Do you want to?" she asks, almost hesitantly. They'd done a lot of things, but never recorded themselves. This might be an usual way to get a video of them, but it's there.

"Kind of," he admits. He does want to see what they saw. Maybe it's his tendency for self- flagellation, or just his inquisitiveness, but knowing that he could see the video for the next two days, he'd been tempted to click on the link all day.

"And it deletes after you open it?"

"Jet said 48 hours. I think it's gone whether I open it or not."

Deciding that she wants to know, that she wants him to watch the video of them and describe it, she asks, "Are you alone?"

Elliot looks at his window and his door, just to double check. "Yea, in my bed. Door's shut, blinds down."

"Open it."

"You sure?" He asks, a happy and excited grin spreading across his face.

"Yes, but you have to tell me what's happening."

Elliot scrolls through his phone. The link that Jet sent him forced him to download a different app on his phone.

"El?" she prompts, confused by his silence, worried that she might be asking too much.

"Sorry, I didn't have the right things on my phone to watch it, I'm waiting for it to download."

"Thing? You mean app?"

"App, whatever," he dismisses, "Okay, I've got it. We are pulling into the lot and parking." Elliot describes as the video shows Olivia driving into the Organized Crime parking law. "Damn, I kissed you immediately. I didn't realize it was that quick. Time had stood still for me. I was thinking about the first time you took me to lunch and I just had to kiss you."

"It was a good kiss," she says, already breathless, excited by his words.

"Looks like it. We are hot Liv," he says in near disbelief.

She chuckles at his description. "I wish I could see us."

"The angle of the camera and the dashboard obscures below our stomachs," he tells her, so she doesn't feel too left out, but he sounds disappointed at the bad vantage point. He knows that it's a good thing that their full bodies weren't visible though. God forbid this video ended up in the wrong hands.

"What's happening now?"

"We are still kissing, hmmmm, my tongue is in your mouth and I can see my arm moving. I think I was opening your pants, stroking you through the fabric."

Olivia hums quietly as she moves her hands over her torso and thighs over her pajamas, feeling her body heat up, "Your fingers always feel so good."

"I have one hand in your shirt. God I love your breasts. But my head–"

"Your big, bald head–" she teases.

"Hey! Yes, my big, bald head blocks the view of the camera, but I'm sucking on your nipple and from the looks of it," he groans, "I have my hand under your underwear, touching you directly. You were so wet for me today."

She knows from his voice that he's aroused and so is she. They've not had phone sex yet in their relationship. There is no better day than the present to cross that off their list as well, she thinks. "Are you getting hard El?"

"God yes," he grits as his eyes flit from his phone to his erection visible in his sweatpants.

"Are you going to touch yourself?" Her voice is seductive as it comes through the phone. She whimpers involuntarily as she continues to touch herself over fabric.

He runs his hand down his bare stomach, the tips of his fingers pushing under the waistband of his sweatpants, scratching at the wiry curls peeking out, "Do you want me to?"

Unwittingly, her movements mirror his, her hand sliding over her heated skin, teasing the band of her pajama pants. "Yes. I want you to stroke yourself. I want you to make yourself come while watching the video, while you are watching yourself making me come."

Elliot shoves his sweats down to his knees, kicking them off as he leans over and grabs the small bottle of lube from his nightstand. He grunts as lays back against his pillows, his cock resting on his low belly, dripping.

She can hear his movements and his grunts as he gets situated, and she takes the opportunity to push her hand under her pajamas. "Are you touching yourself, El?"

He watches his hand grip his cock, still swelling under her voice. It's not an unusual sight for him, but doing it while Olivia's on the phone, commanding him. Well, it's hot. "Yes," he grits as his hips push up, seeking his hand.

Her eyes are closed. She's caught between imagining what he looks like right now—laying back on his bed, bare chested, his huge hands moving over his cock, thinking how hot it is when she catches glimpses of his stroking himself—and recalling what they did earlier today, his hands on her, in her in the front seat of her car. Her body begins to thrum with pleasure as the images flash through her mind.

"What's happening now, in the video?" She wants to hear him, she wants his voice to come through the line, describing how he fucked her with his thick fingers.

Elliot drags his eyes from his cock back to the small screen. He can see Olivia's head slamming back into the headrest, her eyes shut and her mouth open. He can't help but tighten his grip.

"El," she prompts.

"My fingers are on you, in you. You were so tight, your pants around your thighs, I could barely get my hand between your legs, barely got my fingers into your cunt." Elliot quickly reaches for the lube next to him and squirts it on his palm. His hand feels as hot and wet as she was earlier today, though nothing compares to her body.

"You felt so good, El. I love your hands, your fingers," Olivia tells him as her fingers rub her clit at her well-known pace. After years on her own, she's an expert at her own body and she can drag an orgasm to the surface in no time. "Your fingers are so thick. You know just how to touch me."

He sees her body start tensing on the video, and his own head pop off her breast, seeking her mouth again. "You're gonna come," he grunts.

Olivia confuses his meaning, thinking he's asking if she's going to come, not telling her what's happening on the video.

"I am, I'm gonna come. Thinking of your hands on me, in me. I'm so close." She presses two fingers inside, moving them like he moved them earlier, shallow and rough, her legs clamped together as if she was hampered by her pants. Her other hand has shoved her top up, over her breasts, and is squeezing her breast, plucking at her nipple.

His eyes widened and his stroke falters, "Right now? You're close right now?"

"Yes…yes…oh yes," she croons, her back arching against her mattress, rolling into her own palm.

"God Liv, fuck," he's overwhelmed with her moaning directly in his ear and in the video in front of him. Knowing that she's close, he moves more intently. "In the video…in the video I'm kissing you again. My hand is around your neck. That kiss, Liv…fuck, it was so hot. I love kissing you while you come."

She's nodding as her hands push deeper, "Me too. I love it. I love feeling…feeling your tongue, your lips…ahhh, your breath on me…" she trails off, gasping for breath.

"Are you coming, Liv?" He asks, barely able to get the words out as he can feel his cock swell and balls tighten.

"Close, so close," she moans, her hand moving quicker.

"Hmmmm," his hand moves faster, finding a new tempo. "I love it when you come, baby," he tells her, his voice low and gritty, "You are so sexy. I could watch you come every day."

He can hear her panting, and can tell from her whimpers that she's on the edge. "Please Liv, I want to hear you come."

"El…yes, yes…so good, fuck!" she cries out into her bedroom as she comes.

"Liv, baby, you're so wet…so tight…I'm gonna…" he groans, low from the depth of his throat, as his entire body seizes and he ejaculates over his stomach.

Their phones rest on their beds, next to their heaving torsos, the sounds of their panting and gasping still filtering through into each other's room.

"Damn Liv, that was…"

"Don't get any ideas, El."

He chuckles. "Oh, I've got plenty."