Summary: A short, Christmas-themed installment. Elliot and Olivia get caught on the couch (again) on Christmas Eve. Maureen is not too happy that her twins nearly got an eyeful. And then some Christmas cheer.
AN: This chapter is a little more fluff than fun. I hope you enjoy it.
They aren't sure how it started but they both know that they need to stop.
They needed to stop right now.
They won't.
They can't.
They are too far gone.
Elliot's hand is under her thin sleep shirt and bra, stretching the soft fabric as he cups her breast and thumbs at her nipple. Olivia's head turned and she's panting against the back of the couch as his teeth find that spot in her neck. Her hips roll against his, desperate for the friction that only his thick erection can provide.
"God, El…"
"Yea," he breaths against her neck, rutting his hips harder against hers with a low groan.
"We need…room…bedroom," she pants as she can feel the hard ridge of him rub perfectly, expertly along her clit through her pants. They are both still in their loungewear, knowing that they couldn't strip, but still, only the thin material of their joggers separates them. And they aren't anything if experts at getting each other off in any state of undress.
"Can't…Noah," Elliot reminds her, pinching her nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger and grunting loudly as he rubs desperately against her. He knows that he should stop, but in this very second, he can't think of a reason why he can't come, right here, in his pants, grinding against Olivia on the couch in his living room.
"Uhhh, god damn, El…" she couldn't do this. She couldn't come, not here, and not with everyone asleep only a few feet away. But she didn't have much of a choice. Her orgasm is barreling towards her at full speed.
Dry humping on Elliot's couch any other time would not be much cause for concern. Bernie, between her gossip club and grandkids, had her own active life that kept her out of the apartment for long stretches at a time. And Eli leaving for school, as hard as that was for Elliot, proved to give them plenty of couch (and kitchen and bathroom and garden) time. They could generally do whatever they wanted, wherever they wanted.
But it's Christmas Eve and almost all of Elliot's entire flock is in his apartment right now. Noah is asleep in Elliot's room on a small camp cot. Bernie and Eli are crashing in his room, Eli on a crappy inflatable mattress. Maureen and Carl are in Bernie's room with the twins, and both Kathleen and Liz are bunking together in the guestroom. Dickie and his new girlfriend, and Joe, are coming in early tomorrow morning, before 7:00 a.m.
Maureen decided that she wanted the family to experience Christmas Morning together with Olivia and Noah—the whole family.
After assuring the twins (and a mildly still believing Noah) that Santa would find them at Grandpa's (Elliot's) apartment, they drank hot chocolate, sang holiday jingles, and set out a plate of cookies with a glass of milk before trudging off to bed to be tucked in. Then slowly each of the adults, Eli included, finished their drinks, and followed suit.
Leaving Elliot and Olivia alone on the couch while the rest of his family slept.
He leaning in to tell her how beautiful she looked in the light of the tree, and then in no time they were kissing, then laying back on the couch with him on top of her, and then this—flying towards mutual orgasm without losing a single article of clothing.
But not everyone was asleep.
Kieran and Seamus woke a few minutes ago and decided that they wanted to see if Santa had come yet. They only made it to their bedroom door before Maureen realized that they were sneaking out. She elbowed Carl, requesting backup.
Slowly and quietly, they make their way down the hallway, just a few steps behind the boys. Sleepy smiles cover their faces, hoping to catch the boys with a small jump scare for getting out of bed.
That is until they hear it: the unmistakable sounds of adult activities. Whispered and strained exclamations made only at the height of ecstasy filter down the hallway.
"That's it baby…come on, come for me. I'm so close."
"Oh God…El…ah…"
"Fuck…I…Liv…"
Followed by intermingled moans and groans, and then heavy breathing as lungs try to fill with air.
The twins turn and face each other grinning, presumably thinking that they are catching Santa huffing and puffing as he comes down the (non-existent) chimney at Grandpa's. They turn and rush into the living room as they cheer "Santa! Santa! Santa!"
In a mad dash, Maureen and Carl run to the boys.
But it's too late.
"AHHH!"
"Santa!"
"Shit! What the—"
"Santa!"
Crash!
"Boys!"
Maureen and Carl catch up to Kieran and Seamus just as they reach the back of the couch, and with a well-practiced move, they each pull a boy back to their legs, one hand across their chest holding them still and one covering their eyes.
"Dad! Are you okay?" Maureen asks, looking over the couch to her dad, trying to avoid Olivia's eyes. She sees him on the floor, still dressed (thankfully), but much like he had appeared that day in Olivia's apartment—flushed red, panicky, and a little sweaty.
"I'm good," he grumbles from the floor as he starts to stand, but before he gets to his feet, he feels Olivia's hand on his shoulder holding him down and pillow hitting his chest. "What?"
But when he looks down, he realizes what's happening. The crotch of his light gray joggers is…damp.
Shit!
"Are you sure?" she double checks, realizing that he may need a second recover from his fall to the ground.
"Yes, I'm fine," he answers, trying to stand up again.
"Okay good, now I can ask what the fuu–fudge you think you are doing?"
"This is my apartment, and you are my child, I don't owe you an explanation," Elliot argues meeting her tone, as he stands in front of the couch, holding the pillow at his crotch.
"Don't owe me…You are on the couch…with everyone!" Maureen fumbles, beyond upset that her dad and Olivia—"And you," she points a finger at Olivia, who's pulling a blanket over her body though she was still completely dressed, "You know better! I mean, come on! How are you two still…like this?"
Completely bewildered by Maureen's outburst, Olivia speaks up, trying to diffuse the situation. "Maureen, that's enough."
"Honey, come on, it's late," Carl tries to calm his wife with a hand on her shoulder. "And the boys need to get back to bed."
But Elliot demands an answer, his own anger rising, feeling that Maureen's reaction is woefully disproportionate to his own transgressions and out of character. "Like what? We are like what?"
Maureen quickly covers Seamus' ears with her hand and Carl, seeing the switch, covers Kieran's ears.
"Still fucking like goddamn rabbits! That's what!" She grits through her teeth.
Elliot just grits his teeth, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. He can't believe what he's just heard.
"Where are the rabbits?" pipes up Kieran.
Panicked that his sons are still in the room and may hear or see something that is much too mature for them, Carl pleads again. "Maureen, come on, we need to get the boys back to bed and we don't need to wake anyone else."
"Fine!" she huffs, turning on her heel and marching down the hall, pulling Seamus behind her.
"But Santa," the young boy cries.
"What the actual he–heck, Maureen?" Kathleen grumbles as she steps out into the hall, correcting her language last minute as she sees Kieran coming down the hall, led by Carl.
But Maureen ignores her and closes the door.
"Sorry Kathleen, we didn't mean to wake you," Carl apologizes.
"What's she upset about?"
Not sure whether he should disclose his father-in-law's recent activities, Carl just frowns.
"Never mind, just tell your wife to quiet down," Kathleen waves off the question and starts down the hallway. "I'm getting some water and I want to be able to go back to sleep when I return. Lord knows your children will have us up at the as–buttcrack of dawn tomorrow."
Kieran giggles and quietly whispers buttcrack to himself.
"Don't say that," Carl instructs his son, before snagging Kathleen's wrist. "You might not want to go out there. We, uh…just caught your dad and Olivia on the couch."
Kathleen's eyes brighten at this new information. "No way!"
"I mean, they were fully dressed, but we heard some things," Carl whispers with a grimace, still cognizant of Kieran standing next to him.
"This is hilarious. Why is Maureen so freaked?" Kathleen asks. Maureen has always been the more reserved child of the bunch, but Kathleen has never known her to actually get upset by mentions of sex or hearing of her dad's activities second-hand.
Carl shrugs, "No clue. She's been a little more on edge recently. Probably just the stress of the holidays." Carl knows why his wife is a little more reactive lately. It's her hormones. But he's not going to ruin her Christmas surprise by spilling the beans to Kathleen tonight.
"Hmm, well you might want to look into that. Now, I'm going to get a drink."
"It's your life," Carl chuckles and guides Kieran back to their bedroom.
"Is it safe to look?" Kathleen asks with a laugh as she enters the living room with a hand over her face, only looking through the cracks of her fingers.
"Ha ha ha, very funny," Elliot greets grumpily from the couch, his pillow still on his lap.
She holds her hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, you never know what you might see or hear out here."
"Did you need anything Kathleen?" Olivia asks, trying to prevent Elliot from yelling at another one of his kids on Christmas Eve.
Still grinning, Kathleen just turns and walks to the kitchen. "No, just getting a drink of water."
"Then get it and go back to bed," Elliot grouses.
Olivia eyes him curiously. He's never been this upset after they've been caught before. Though, his kids have never exploded at him or cursed at him like Maureen just did. Usually, his kids just laugh and tease, and it's all played off as a joke. Then he's the one consoling her, assuring her that it's not a big deal and she shouldn't be embarrassed.
"But what if I wanted to wait up for Santa? You don't want to hang out and chat until he gets here?" Kathleen snickers, now standing behind the couch with a glass of water.
"Kath-leen," Elliot growls, not in the mood to be mocked after his blow-up with Maureen.
"Oh my god! You don't even make it fun when you just get all pissy," Kathleen huffs, slapping her hand against her leg in annoyance. "Let me guess, the boys ran out here before you got yours?"
"Godddamnit! Go back to bed!" Elliot's voice was loud now, almost yelling. He knows he's taking it out on the wrong kid. Kathleen just wants a good laugh, which she usually gets. But he's over it, ready to get out of these damp pants and into bed.
"You better keep it down," Kathleen warns as she walks to the hallway, "before you wake everyone else, and they learn that you and Olivia are on the naughty list."
The twins wake everyone early the following morning giggling loudly as they run through the house to announce that Santa came, and everyone has presents that need to be opened immediately.
One by one they all make it to the living room; Dickie shows up with his girlfriend just as Eli gets up and joins the crowd. And Joe makes it about ten minutes later. Kathleen greets him with a kiss at the door and guides him to the living room.
The air was somewhat tense between Elliot and Maureen first thing in the morning. But they gave each other a quick good morning hug and wished each other Merry Christmas, before taking their seats. Kathleen and Olivia picked up on the tension, but they ignored it in favor of focusing on getting into the Christmas spirit and wishing Merry Christmas to everyone. And if anyone else noticed the strain, they didn't comment.
The twins and Noah tear through their present piles while the adults take their time opening the few gifts in their respective piles, pausing to ooh and ahh appropriately when shown a new toy that one of the twins unwraps and to appreciate each other's gifts.
"Oh!" Olivia cries in surprise when she opens a small card and a small black and white photo falls onto her lap.
"What is this?" Elliot asks as he picks up the photo, reading the name and date at the top.
"After five kids, you'd think you would recognize a sonogram photo," Dickie jokes.
"Maureen, really?" Elliot asks, looking at his oldest daughter.
She smiles and nods, tears welling in eyes.
His face softens as joy and understanding comes to him, and he tells her, "Congratulations baby."
Looking back at Olivia he sees the tears in her eyes as well. "Why are you crying? You aren't pregnant."
"You hope," Kathleen jokes from the corner.
"Hush you!" Elliot snaps at her without any heat, and without taking his eyes off Olivia.
She just hands him the card. He pulls on his glasses and reads: I'm joining the crew soon; can I call you Nana?
The crying women embrace, all bitterness from the prior evening forgotten.
After the emotional gift exchange and hugs and Congratulations all around, the adults hang around the kitchen for breakfast. It takes some coordination, but soon Kathleen has bacon in the oven and is scrambling eggs while Liz is flipping waffles in a waffle maker and Maureen is cutting up fresh fruit.
"So, was everyone happy with their Christmas gifts this year?" Bernie asks from the table.
The boys shout back Yea! as they continue playing with their new remote-control drones. Noah is on the couch listening to music through his new headphones.
"Some people got their gifts earlier than others," Kathleen jokes over her shoulder with an ornery grin.
"What do you mean?" Liz asks, opening the maker and gingerly pulling out a fresh waffle.
"I don't know…" Kathleen shrugs, before asking, "Olivia, do you know?"
Wanting to fully squash the tension from last night with humor and refusing to be embarrassed around the Stabler women any longer, Olivia grins and answers, "Nope, I I have no idea what you mean."
"Really? Dad didn't give you a present last night…on the couch," Kathleen adds the last bit in a mock whisper as Olivia approaches her with her mug of coffee.
"No," Olivia answers, now standing behind Kathleen. But then she leans in and whispers, "He did give me a couple good orgasms though."
"LIV!" Kathleen shouts, dropping the spatula and splattering eggs all over the floor.
"Katie! Watch what you are doing," Liz yells at her.
Olivia just laughs as she joins Bernie at the table, sipping her coffee. "Maybe next time you'll mind your own business."
Maureen also chuckles from her spot at the counter, clearly over her agitation from the night before.
