Prompt #37: Christmas in Colorado, cabin for everybody, heavy snow, wine, 80s music, window seat, first time, both nervous, no regrets, fluff, Protelliot
Only You
~oOo~
"El, I am fine, really." Olivia huffs in frustration, a chill going up her spine as her former partner presses an ice pack to her ankle. "If you leave now, you will still be able to go down some of the slopes before everyone else will call it a day."
She breathes heavily, adjusting to the cold against her skin, or maybe it is just the touch of his fingertips, running up and down, lingering a little bit longer than absolutely necessary.
"We've been through this." His tone is firm, yet the way he keeps pressing his fingers against her leg, holding her completely still, tells her he is not really as frustrated with her as he pretends to be. "What if you need anything? What if you fall and there is no one here to help you?"
"You are overreacting." Olivia rolls her eyes, trying to extract her calf from under his touch, yet hisses when pain shoots up from her right ankle all the way to her back. "I twisted my ankle while doing a poor attempt at skiing, it's not like some stranger with a gun came into a diner and tried to shoot us both to death again." There is a smile crawling up her face, and in the corner of her eye, she can catch an identical one almost reaching his blue eyes, but not quite. "I can… I can take care of myself." She tries to convince him, her eyes never meeting his as she stares out the window, as far as she is able to see. They are both sitting on the window seat, close, too close, close enough to feel the heat of him through the layers of clothes and through the frozen pack still pressed to her injured ankle.
Close enough to turn her stomach, to make her remember the night she promised him she wanted to.
She wanted him.
She just wasn't ready to risk everything, only to watch it fall.
Her fingers find the pendant resting on her collarbone, toying absentmindedly with the compass, eight small diamonds rattling in their gold cage, thinking about the day back in May when another undercover operation took him away from her.
Thinking about a floral spring in the city that turned into a humid summer, that in time gave way to the chill of fall. Of fourth of July turning into Labor Day and then into Halloween. Of Thanksgiving pumpkins finally giving their place to Santa hats and candy canes.
Thinking about her best friend standing at her front door on Christmas Eve with no warning. Of blue eyes shining bright and a black coat dusted with snow, the sound of Silent Night played through the speakers as the necklace on her chest burned a hole in her skin.
Of an ornament being pulled out of his pocket, obnoxiously decorating her tree with Liv, Laugh, Love.
"Liv, just… Let me take care of you just this once, okay?" He tries.
Olivia is as stubborn as a person can be, if she can say so about herself, but she doesn't want him to go, doesn't want to lose the firm grip he has on her body, doesn't want to let go of the light back and forth they have going on as the snow comes down, tapping lightly on the big window.
She doesn't want him to leave the heat of the fireplace, the sanctuary that this little cabin in the middle of nowhere, Colorado, has become.
She doesn't want to be alone anymore.
"Give me that," she insists, grabbing the pack of ice, now partially melted, and holding it into place where her ankle is swollen and slightly bending in a weird angle.
His touch is cold on her smooth skin, calloused fingers holding onto her long after he lets go of the improvised remedy.
"Hungry?" Elliot asks, breaking the silence that spread in the empty cabin.
It was weird, at first.
Their silences.
They had so many words left unspoken after ten years apart, and every silence was loaded, had to be filled with meaningless words before she had a chance to open her heart. Before he was able to see her, really see her, behind those awkward silences. Before he was able to break through her walls, like he used to so effortlessly do a decade ago, sharing a sandwich at the front seat of his old Sedan.
And then, their silences changed. Ever since that night in her new kitchen, searching for the sugar as if she was chasing down one of the perps in her endless pile of open cases, their silences were no longer loaded with frustration and betrayal.
The silences were still there, still lingering between them, less awkward but just as heavy.
Whispering "I love you" instead of "I'm sorry."
Olivia closes her eyes, lets her dark hair fall on her shoulders as she shakes her head to say no, she is not hungry, then rests her back against the wall, letting herself bask in the glow of words of love left unsaid.
She can hear his bare feet as he makes his way into the large, open kitchen they use to cook dinner every single day since their arrival. Can hear the wind howling, the crackling sound of the fireplace. "Elliot, it's way too early for this." She laughs when she finally hears the sound of a wine bottle being opened with a pop, the liquid pouring into what she can only guess are two twin glasses, filled way over what may be considered appropriate.
"It's five o'clock somewhere. Besides, it will make you feel better."
"I am feeling fine." She insists, and yet when he offers her the glass of red, she takes it with her free hand, no defiance noted.
It is there again, Elliot's fingers lingering just a little, reluctant to let go of the stem of the wine glass, sending little jolts of electricity up the palm of her hand and onto her arm before he finally takes the smallest of steps back.
He is still very much invading her personal space, towering on top of her, his knees touching hers as he stands above her.
And she knows.
She knows that if she just looks up, she will find there the same soft, blue eyes that looked at her that night in her kitchen, begging her to give the thing between them a chance.
Fuck.
When did it become so hard to breathe around him?
The wine is a good distraction for a while, deep and bitter and strong as it goes down her throat. It warms her belly, and gives her hands something to do instead of gravitating toward his body.
She chose a good one to bring, if she can say so about herself.
She still remembers the days when they used to drink cheap beer out of plastic cups, as clearly and visibly as if they were yesterday, and not twenty-five years ago.
"Hey Siri," Elliot shouts, disturbing the silence once again. "Play Only You by Yazoo."
"Elliot." Olivia sighs, letting the ice fall onto the floor and placing her cold hand over her face, stifling a smirk. "It's not the 80s anymore. We are not in high school, and how did you even come up with this song anyway?" She speaks over the first tunes coming out of his iPhone.
"Come on," he insists, slowly releasing the glass from her clutch and placing it beside her on the window seat.
They will have to clear this up before Jesse and Billy are back, she makes a mental note.
"Dance with me," he tries, and Olivia just shakes her head as he reaches his hand out for her to grab.
"I have an injured ankle, in case you didn't notice." It is an excuse, and not even a good one, since she was the one who has been insistent for the last couple of hours that she is in fact, completely fine. Yet this is all she is able to come up with as she finally lifts her head to look at his eyes instead of his outreached palm.
"I got you," Elliot promises, and with a heavy exhale Olivia finally gets up, wobbling on her one good leg and dragging the other slightly behind her.
They are not dancing, not by any means. Swaying to the beat of a random song is the best way she can describe it, Elliot supporting her entire weight, his hands wrapped around her middle, pulling her impossibly close to him.
"You picked the worst song possible."
"Shut up."
"You know I now have to go and tell your kids about your awful taste in music, right? Lizzie won't let you hear the end of this," Olivia casually mentions, hoping that talking about his children will distract them both enough so they can ignore the tension that fills the air around them.
Distract them enough so they will be able to ignore the fact that if she just lifts her head, if she just let herself feel, let herself be, it will be so easy to close the distance between them and finally give in to that invisible string that has been pulling them together and tearing them apart for the last twenty-five years.
Olivia isn't sure who ends up taking the first step forward, but it doesn't matter, not when his lips finally meet hers, the taste of wine and Elliot taking over her senses. Breathing is impossible as the smell of him engulfs her, cologne and laundry detergent and sweat, as his tongue traces her lower lip, asking her to give him more.
Asking her to give him everything.
Breathing is impossible, and standing is even harder, her weight finally giving in under her bad ankle.
He is there to catch her when she breaks the kiss and falls into his arms.
Of course, he is.
"El?"
"Mmm?" He hums back, his head in the crook of her neck, nipping and biting lightly at her pulse point. Her fingers find his shoulders under the thin fabric of his henley, nails digging into skin, demanding him to give her more.
To give her everything.
"Turn off this stupid song."
~oOo~
There is something pulling Olivia slowly out of her blissful sleep.
There are fingers traveling slowly up her naked belly, her breasts, stopping to toy with the pendant resting on her collarbone.
There is someone in her bed.
There is someone in her bed, and they are both naked and sweaty and there are loose limbs wrapped around her body. Not tight enough to cage her, yet firm enough to convey a message.
He doesn't want to let her go.
There is a man in her bed and a delicious ache between her legs and her breath shutters as she makes sure this is not one of the many dreams she had before, promising her the world just to break her as she wakes up into reality. "El…"
"Hey," he whispers, her heart skipping a beat as his fingers brush a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine," she promises, then finally, slowly, opens her eyes. The last rays of sunshine send dim light into the small bedroom she claimed on the first day of their arrival. It is not as large as the master that Phoebe and Fin called dibs on, but she is just one person, as Noah was completely insistent that he doesn't need to sleep with his mom anymore, and the queen bed with the attached bathroom was more than enough for her.
The fact that this bedroom is right across from the one Elliot chose for himself made it a no-brainer for her.
"We should probably get up anyway." Olivia tries to pull away. "Otherwise I am going to get dirty looks from Amanda all the way to Easter."
"Five more minutes," Elliot murmurs, moving up her body, pressing soft kisses to her jawline.
"Fine." She sighs, giving in willingly to his weight on top of her. Her eyes close again, and all she is able to hear are the slow thumping sounds of two hearts beating as one.
"Liv…" he whispers into her ear, her name a prayer on his lips as one of his hands pins her arms above her head, the other playing with the pendant as his kisses burn a path from her neck to her clavicle.
Their breathing becomes heavier as Elliot becomes harder against her hip.
She doesn't think she has it in her to go again.
She doesn't think she will ever be able to stop, now that she got a taste.
Eventually, the thing that stops them is the sound of a key turning in its hole, and the mayhem that is three kids zooming back into the house.
"Shit," Olivia mutters, as Elliot moves his face aside and grunts into a pillow.
"Raincheck?" He tries to get a promise out of her before he finally has to let her go.
"I will think about it." Olivia returns as she moves away reluctantly, gathering their discarded pieces of clothing as her entire weight is placed on her good leg, throwing random garments at her old partner, urging him to get decent before the adults in the living room will start asking questions she will have absolutely no way to answer.
The smirk on her face she doesn't even try to hide conveys a different message from the one her words tried to tell.
She will meet him there at midnight, it promises, long after everyone else in the cabin will be in the land of the dreaming.
"I'm going downstairs," Olivia announces, giving herself one last glance in the full-length mirror.
She is a wreck. Messy hair and wrinkled clothes, sleep-filled eyes, and nail marks on her skin that her sleeves don't do a particularly good job at hiding.
Olivia takes two steps down the stairs, before she turns, seeing Elliot standing just a step behind her, his back against a wall and his arms crossed against his chest, and the rise of his brow tells her he is able to read her mind.
She was always too stubborn to ask for help, anyway.
He always knew what she needed, even when she didn't ask for it.
It takes the two of them about ten minutes (and about as many offers from Elliot to carry her down bridal style, that are all turned down by Olivia) to make their way down the flight of stairs, where they are both being greeted by the screams and giggles of three rosy-cheeked kids, trying to tell them about everything and anything they missed in their activity-packed day.
"Aunt Olivia!" Jesse squeals, then moves on to tell in detail the story of her descent down the most difficult green slope on the mountain.
The kids go on and on as the smell of Carisi's cooking fills the air, fighting with each other about the details of the story, as Olivia catches Elliot at the corner of her eyes, cleaning up the two wine glasses they left behind and the puddle that was once the ice pack she held to her bad ankle.
And then she notices it.
Amanda and Fin exchanging knowing glances, staring at her, then at Elliot, who seems to be completely oblivious to the silent conversation happening behind his back, and then back at her.
"What?" OIivia hisses at the blond's direction, their gaze never meeting as Olivia helps with the dishes left behind.
"Nothing." Amanda shrugs, wiping down the already clean surface. "I guess you really didn't need a motel room to get it out of your system. All you needed was a cabin in Colorado and the first chance you had to finally be alone."
The author of this SVU - Heart for the Holidays story will be revealed in January