For 25_Crimes 04. Intoxicated
Title: Liquid Embrace
Author: Rudyard Kipling
Theme / Set: SVU: 04. Intoxication
Rating: NC-17
Claim + Additional Character: Olivia Benson + Mystery Guest! Read to find out!
Warning: OH MY GOD! Where do I start? First off, this isn't canon, at least, not that I could ever see - but since when has that stopped me? That's right, never. My quest in this fic was two fold.
1) Smut, pure and simple, yeah, okay so there's a hook, but that's like saying that "the cable is broke and she needs someone to come over and fix it" is a hook for a porno. Its not, its a convenient way to bring a person with an "A tab" into close proximity with a person who has a "B slot" so they can put two and two together. Of course, in the end, she ends up with a money shot but the cable is still out. Bummer. (If you don't know what a money shot is, well, comment and we'll have a talksie.)
2) The weirdest / oddest Olivia Pairing ever. This was weird, even for me, to write - and I had to think about other character when I wrote it because it made me feel dirty. Honestly, it was like writing porn about Santa Claus. If you can find an odder pairing then this, please, tell me. I am dying to know.
So this is to be taken with a grain of salt, okay, a big grain of salt, and the reason why I need keepers.
Summary: Olivia's cable goes out, someone shows up to fix it.
Word Count: 2901
She was blindingly drunk. So, completely, utterly drunk that she couldn't open her eyelids. She very rarely got this bad, but this was the exception, the case that SVU had just closed was the exception to all the rules and she was more then happy to tip back vodka until everything was spinning in front of her and her lips were numb. This was a night to forget everything that had happened in the past week, and she eagerly embraced it.
She embraced the liquor, and chatted up the coworkers who had decided to come with her - the usual crowd, the usual bar, and by the time the closing time rolled around she and Fin were the only ones still around. Elliot had gone home to Kathy, and Munch was so old that if he didn't go to bed at ten then he would die. Seriously, well, that's what his excuse was anyway. Fin was more steady on his feet then she was, and he told her that he would walk her home, get her a cab, something - she shook her head and told him that she could take care of herself.
He gave her a look, but she continued down the street, trying hard to walk in a straight line, before she gave up and lent against the brick of the buildings she walked next to - her eyelids barely open as the world blurred in front of her and then tilted first to the left and to the right. Stopping herself, she shut her eyes tight and thought about sober things, black coffee, death, showers, twenty mile jobs, Elliot's morning breath - the last one made her stomach turn over, but when she opened her eyes she was still as drunk as before.
Groaning she took a few more steps before she decided that the all night diner would probably be her best bet to sober up a bit, she was about to open the door when Cragen stepped out in front of her. She knew how she must have looked, hair messed up, make up gone - eyes half open and pupils dilated, she was a mess, a fucking, drunk mess. Straightening up, she tried to be presentable, tried to look like she wasn't three sheets to the wind, but it must have looked pretty fucking stupid in front of a recovering alcoholic.
Cragen shook his head, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started her off toward her apartment, the walk would sober her up - the cold air and the continuous movement. But he was warm, he was warm and he smelt good, like coffee, his aftershave and the squad room, a mixture of gun powder and paper. So she pressed close to him, her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, trusting him to take her home. He was such a gentleman, he walked her up to her stairs, he took her keys from her and took her up the stairs to her fourth floor apartment.
He told her he was an old man, winded by the walk, but she was breathless as well, her head only clearing enough to get into the apartment and offer him a cup of coffee. He agreed, and took over for her when she couldn't figure out how to actually make coffee, telling her to go and take some aspirin and get ready for bed. What a cute thing to say, such a gentleman, such a father figure, telling his sick daughter to go to bed because she would feel better when she woke up.
Sitting down on the couch, he made her drink the coffee, he held the cup to her lips and made her swallow it down, and she blinked blearily at him before the first wave of heat and caffeine hit her and she suddenly perked up. It was the heat, shocking her into a semi aware state. They were in her apartment, she was in shorts and a tank top and he had finally taken off his coat and was sitting there, feeding her coffee and shaking his head with a tired look in his eyes. In the past Olivia learned that alcohol will do many things to her, it will make her sick, it will make her open her big mouth and say things she normally wouldn't. It will make her sing Karaoke and do body shots. It will make her eat gross stuff, and it will make her do stupid things like, kiss her boss.
At first he resisted, his rough hands on her shoulders, grabbing her and inching her back enough for him to say; "Olivia, stop, your drunk." She agreed, but kissed him once more anyway, you know, to show him she wasn't as drunk as he thought she was. This time it took a little bit longer for him to push her away and to repeat, in a softening voice his early statement, this time, with the added "we could both get in trouble." She agreed too, but that didn't stop her from sliding a hand up his chest and kiss him again, this time using all her passion and technique on him, the kind of kiss that made even Alex pull back and say "Wow."
Apparently she hadn't lost the touch because he groaned and wrapped his arms around her, holding her loosely against his chest as he kissed her back. She was the one that opened her mouth first, her tongue flicking out over his lips and eagerly begging permission to enter. His response was only a little delayed, but when he got a brief taste of her, the alcohol and coffee coated tongue and mouth he lunged forward to grip her tightly, strong fingers digging into her ass.
Olivia wondered, blearily, how good it was to be open mouth kissing a recovering alcoholic after a night of drinking - was this a relapse? He certainly didn't seem to mind, his head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss, surprising her, and even in her intoxicated state, she recognized that he was a very good kisser. They laid on the couch, her, half on, half off him, murmuring non-sense into their kisses as his hands slid up and down her back and slowly inching up the fabric of her tank top so his thick fingers could come in contact with hot flesh. Another question she asked herself, was how long had it been for him?
She did not want to think about the fact that period of time could easily span a quarter of her own life time. When her hips started to rub and grind up against him, she knew it was time to go to the bed room, and that's when she shut off her brain, all questions stopped, all warning lights and sirens that had been going for the last ten minutes were silenced. She wanted to feel good, he was there, and if she asked nicely, she was sure he could give her that.
When she could feel his erection pressing up against the fly of his pants she pulled back and grinned at him, running her fingers through her hair, pushing it out from her eyes so she could tug at his tie as she climbed over him. She could see the indecision in his eyes, she was drunk, she was a co-worker, he was a superior officer, and she was young enough. . . young enough to . . . he closed his eyes and refused to think about it. That's what she wanted, to shut off his brain, and as soon as his eyes closed she knelt down and kissed him once more - applying just enough lips and tongue to get him off the couch and standing. She stood also, and pressed her body up against his, luring him into the dark recesses of her bed room.
So he wasn't as cut as Elliot, or young and demanding as some of the other men she had slept with, but god damn he knew what he was doing. His wife must have taught him some amazing tricks, because the way he touched her and kissed her - made her body shiver and her moans grow in intensity as she worked on getting his shirt off. He allowed her to undress him, and by the time she got him down to his boxers, he stopped her and grinned.
If he was going to go all the way, he would damn well make this an amazing night, one last ride before this inevitably blew up in his face like most things did when it came to his squad. He told her to strip, and she sat on the bed, looking like an unassuming sexpot, hair tangled around her brown eyes, kneeling on the bed with one tank top strap sliding down her arm, and showing just enough skin to make him want to see more.
After he let his eyes wander over her before he finally gave a nod and she started to pull off her clothes, tossing her tank top away and wiggling out of her shorts and panties till she was naked, stretched out on the bed. She really was something to look at, when she came on board half of the Captains in the precinct told him he was taking on a huge risk, and she wouldn't last, the other half, wanted to jump her - anxiously telling him to put in a good word, or if she was actually available.
Like it would have mattered or not, half of them were married anyway. And now she was there, on the bed, completely naked, and - for the time, all for him. His hands slid up her legs and she groaned softly, as she rolled on to her back and spread her legs for him, and then sat up a little bit, explaining that he didn't have to do that - not really, she was already for him. He was sure she was, but he wasn't sure if he would last, and he certainly wanted to take his time. In his mind he had a picture of how she looked naked, how she tasted, the noises she made with a man between her legs - all those things he wanted to find out now.
She tasted better then he could have ever imagined, salty, musky and a bit sweet, like the slight after taste from a bite of peach, and after being celibate for so long, it was one of the best things he had ever tasted. Olivia groaned, her head falling back to the pillow as she felt his tongue on her, tentative at first, before growing bolder, exploring and finding all those places that she actually liked. He took his time, teasing her to the point to where she actually had to call out, to beg him to let her come.
Begging was something she had never done for anyone before him, all the other men had been clumsy, rushing, eager to just fuck but he took his time. Despite a few fumbles in the beginning he was well on his way to becoming a good idea. His fingers pushed inside of her, as his tongue flicked up over her clit - pushing her over the edge and making her back arch as she cried out, a ragged groan as her whole body shook.
When she collapsed back on to the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, she watched him push his boxers down and off - tossing them on to the floor. He looked over at her and rumbled something about protection and she had to chuckle as she reached over to the night stand and pulled out a box. Sitting up, she tore off an individual condom and handed it to him, grinning like an idiot.
"What's so funny?"
"I'm just trying to figure out if you've ever had to use a condom before."
"Olivia, I grew up in the seventies, I've worn plenty of them. Stop laughing, you're not making this any easier."
She couldn't help it, and she sat up, gently pushing him on to his back, so his head was down at the foot of the bed. Olivia grinned, straddling his hips as she bowed her head to kiss his mouth slowly and gently, her hand sneaking down to wrap around his cock and to stroke him quickly, easily getting him hard once more. Breaking the kiss she nibbled on his bottom lip and carefully unrolled the condom down around his cock, his moans rough and a bit strained. "It's been awhile." He explained, as if she needed reminding. Shaking her head she kissed him once more, her hand leaving him, and her hips lowering to rub against his head before whispering softly, "it's okay, I understand. We'll go slow."
When she sank down on to his dick he grabbed at her hips and squeezed hard, his head back - eyes screwed shut as he tried to keep his breath even and his mind off how hot she was, how tight she was around him. In fact he thought about the most unsexy thoughts he could muster at a time like this, the last thing he wanted was to come too quickly, like some horny teenager who couldn't control himself. Olivia waited for him, smiling as watched him try and regain control, when he finally bucked up at her she let out a groan and started to ride him, her hips moving slowly until he got use to the feeling and the movement.
Once they got started he was surprisingly good, his hands sliding up to her breasts as she planted her hands on either side of his head and rode him, bringing groans from both of them. He suckled at her nipples and let one hand rest on her ass, squeezing as she pushed back down against him. "So good, an amazing fuck, Olivia." He whispered around a bit of flesh, and she moaned in agreement.
Between his gropes and kisses, she was quickly on edge once more and after a few more rough strokes she came with a shout, her fingers digging at the bed covers as her hips slammed down against his over and over, riding out the orgasm that tore through her. He was right after her, grabbing her and pulling her down to his chest as he bent his knees and thrust up into her convulsing pussy, eager to get off. Grunting and panting he came with a low moan, his lips pressed against her neck to muffle the sound as he exhaled hard through his nose and twitched under her. Both went still, and she sagged on to his chest, her head on his shoulder, her fingers moving idly over his damp skin. Cragen was grinning, his hand moving up and down her back, lightly scratching and feeling the beating of her heart through her skin - and the rise and fall of her back marking her breaths.
"That was really good." She whispered finally, her voice thick with sleep - it had been a long night.
"You sound surprised."
"Well, I wasn't expecting this - I wasn't expecting you to be so good."
"Why not?"
"Well, your my boss, and your old."
He groaned and kissed the top of her head, pressing his nose into the hot strands he inhaled, smelling her shampoo and sweat, it was an amazing smell - one of those he had missed after his wife died. "I'm not that old, and we won't talk about the boss thing." He whispered after a moment, and was only rewarded with a little nod - she was getting to be a bit heavy against his shoulder, so he gently rolled her off of him and cleaned himself up. When he came back into the bed room she was under the covers, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow.
Slowly he dressed, watching her, and smiling fondly - tempted to get back into the bed, what did he have to go home to? Not much. He was about to pull on his shirt when she groaned a little and he looked at her out stretched hand. "Stay here, its late, c'mon I won't bite." He took her hand and climbed into bed with her, laying down and closing his eyes. As soon as he relaxed she immediately turned and snuggled toward him, her head on his shoulder, and one bare arm over his torso. "I cuddle when I am drunk." She confessed to him, and he was more then happy to wrap his arm around her and bring her in closer.
The kissing, the smells, the tastes and the touches were all things that seemed rather inconsequential now. This is what he missed, the warmth the being close to another human and feeling connected to humanity, even if it was for one night.
Author: Rudyard Kipling
Theme / Set: SVU: 04. Intoxication
Rating: NC-17
Claim + Additional Character: Olivia Benson + Mystery Guest! Read to find out!
Warning: OH MY GOD! Where do I start? First off, this isn't canon, at least, not that I could ever see - but since when has that stopped me? That's right, never. My quest in this fic was two fold.
1) Smut, pure and simple, yeah, okay so there's a hook, but that's like saying that "the cable is broke and she needs someone to come over and fix it" is a hook for a porno. Its not, its a convenient way to bring a person with an "A tab" into close proximity with a person who has a "B slot" so they can put two and two together. Of course, in the end, she ends up with a money shot but the cable is still out. Bummer. (If you don't know what a money shot is, well, comment and we'll have a talksie.)
2) The weirdest / oddest Olivia Pairing ever. This was weird, even for me, to write - and I had to think about other character when I wrote it because it made me feel dirty. Honestly, it was like writing porn about Santa Claus. If you can find an odder pairing then this, please, tell me. I am dying to know.
So this is to be taken with a grain of salt, okay, a big grain of salt, and the reason why I need keepers.
Summary: Olivia's cable goes out, someone shows up to fix it.
Word Count: 2901
She was blindingly drunk. So, completely, utterly drunk that she couldn't open her eyelids. She very rarely got this bad, but this was the exception, the case that SVU had just closed was the exception to all the rules and she was more then happy to tip back vodka until everything was spinning in front of her and her lips were numb. This was a night to forget everything that had happened in the past week, and she eagerly embraced it.
She embraced the liquor, and chatted up the coworkers who had decided to come with her - the usual crowd, the usual bar, and by the time the closing time rolled around she and Fin were the only ones still around. Elliot had gone home to Kathy, and Munch was so old that if he didn't go to bed at ten then he would die. Seriously, well, that's what his excuse was anyway. Fin was more steady on his feet then she was, and he told her that he would walk her home, get her a cab, something - she shook her head and told him that she could take care of herself.
He gave her a look, but she continued down the street, trying hard to walk in a straight line, before she gave up and lent against the brick of the buildings she walked next to - her eyelids barely open as the world blurred in front of her and then tilted first to the left and to the right. Stopping herself, she shut her eyes tight and thought about sober things, black coffee, death, showers, twenty mile jobs, Elliot's morning breath - the last one made her stomach turn over, but when she opened her eyes she was still as drunk as before.
Groaning she took a few more steps before she decided that the all night diner would probably be her best bet to sober up a bit, she was about to open the door when Cragen stepped out in front of her. She knew how she must have looked, hair messed up, make up gone - eyes half open and pupils dilated, she was a mess, a fucking, drunk mess. Straightening up, she tried to be presentable, tried to look like she wasn't three sheets to the wind, but it must have looked pretty fucking stupid in front of a recovering alcoholic.
Cragen shook his head, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started her off toward her apartment, the walk would sober her up - the cold air and the continuous movement. But he was warm, he was warm and he smelt good, like coffee, his aftershave and the squad room, a mixture of gun powder and paper. So she pressed close to him, her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, trusting him to take her home. He was such a gentleman, he walked her up to her stairs, he took her keys from her and took her up the stairs to her fourth floor apartment.
He told her he was an old man, winded by the walk, but she was breathless as well, her head only clearing enough to get into the apartment and offer him a cup of coffee. He agreed, and took over for her when she couldn't figure out how to actually make coffee, telling her to go and take some aspirin and get ready for bed. What a cute thing to say, such a gentleman, such a father figure, telling his sick daughter to go to bed because she would feel better when she woke up.
Sitting down on the couch, he made her drink the coffee, he held the cup to her lips and made her swallow it down, and she blinked blearily at him before the first wave of heat and caffeine hit her and she suddenly perked up. It was the heat, shocking her into a semi aware state. They were in her apartment, she was in shorts and a tank top and he had finally taken off his coat and was sitting there, feeding her coffee and shaking his head with a tired look in his eyes. In the past Olivia learned that alcohol will do many things to her, it will make her sick, it will make her open her big mouth and say things she normally wouldn't. It will make her sing Karaoke and do body shots. It will make her eat gross stuff, and it will make her do stupid things like, kiss her boss.
At first he resisted, his rough hands on her shoulders, grabbing her and inching her back enough for him to say; "Olivia, stop, your drunk." She agreed, but kissed him once more anyway, you know, to show him she wasn't as drunk as he thought she was. This time it took a little bit longer for him to push her away and to repeat, in a softening voice his early statement, this time, with the added "we could both get in trouble." She agreed too, but that didn't stop her from sliding a hand up his chest and kiss him again, this time using all her passion and technique on him, the kind of kiss that made even Alex pull back and say "Wow."
Apparently she hadn't lost the touch because he groaned and wrapped his arms around her, holding her loosely against his chest as he kissed her back. She was the one that opened her mouth first, her tongue flicking out over his lips and eagerly begging permission to enter. His response was only a little delayed, but when he got a brief taste of her, the alcohol and coffee coated tongue and mouth he lunged forward to grip her tightly, strong fingers digging into her ass.
Olivia wondered, blearily, how good it was to be open mouth kissing a recovering alcoholic after a night of drinking - was this a relapse? He certainly didn't seem to mind, his head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss, surprising her, and even in her intoxicated state, she recognized that he was a very good kisser. They laid on the couch, her, half on, half off him, murmuring non-sense into their kisses as his hands slid up and down her back and slowly inching up the fabric of her tank top so his thick fingers could come in contact with hot flesh. Another question she asked herself, was how long had it been for him?
She did not want to think about the fact that period of time could easily span a quarter of her own life time. When her hips started to rub and grind up against him, she knew it was time to go to the bed room, and that's when she shut off her brain, all questions stopped, all warning lights and sirens that had been going for the last ten minutes were silenced. She wanted to feel good, he was there, and if she asked nicely, she was sure he could give her that.
When she could feel his erection pressing up against the fly of his pants she pulled back and grinned at him, running her fingers through her hair, pushing it out from her eyes so she could tug at his tie as she climbed over him. She could see the indecision in his eyes, she was drunk, she was a co-worker, he was a superior officer, and she was young enough. . . young enough to . . . he closed his eyes and refused to think about it. That's what she wanted, to shut off his brain, and as soon as his eyes closed she knelt down and kissed him once more - applying just enough lips and tongue to get him off the couch and standing. She stood also, and pressed her body up against his, luring him into the dark recesses of her bed room.
So he wasn't as cut as Elliot, or young and demanding as some of the other men she had slept with, but god damn he knew what he was doing. His wife must have taught him some amazing tricks, because the way he touched her and kissed her - made her body shiver and her moans grow in intensity as she worked on getting his shirt off. He allowed her to undress him, and by the time she got him down to his boxers, he stopped her and grinned.
If he was going to go all the way, he would damn well make this an amazing night, one last ride before this inevitably blew up in his face like most things did when it came to his squad. He told her to strip, and she sat on the bed, looking like an unassuming sexpot, hair tangled around her brown eyes, kneeling on the bed with one tank top strap sliding down her arm, and showing just enough skin to make him want to see more.
After he let his eyes wander over her before he finally gave a nod and she started to pull off her clothes, tossing her tank top away and wiggling out of her shorts and panties till she was naked, stretched out on the bed. She really was something to look at, when she came on board half of the Captains in the precinct told him he was taking on a huge risk, and she wouldn't last, the other half, wanted to jump her - anxiously telling him to put in a good word, or if she was actually available.
Like it would have mattered or not, half of them were married anyway. And now she was there, on the bed, completely naked, and - for the time, all for him. His hands slid up her legs and she groaned softly, as she rolled on to her back and spread her legs for him, and then sat up a little bit, explaining that he didn't have to do that - not really, she was already for him. He was sure she was, but he wasn't sure if he would last, and he certainly wanted to take his time. In his mind he had a picture of how she looked naked, how she tasted, the noises she made with a man between her legs - all those things he wanted to find out now.
She tasted better then he could have ever imagined, salty, musky and a bit sweet, like the slight after taste from a bite of peach, and after being celibate for so long, it was one of the best things he had ever tasted. Olivia groaned, her head falling back to the pillow as she felt his tongue on her, tentative at first, before growing bolder, exploring and finding all those places that she actually liked. He took his time, teasing her to the point to where she actually had to call out, to beg him to let her come.
Begging was something she had never done for anyone before him, all the other men had been clumsy, rushing, eager to just fuck but he took his time. Despite a few fumbles in the beginning he was well on his way to becoming a good idea. His fingers pushed inside of her, as his tongue flicked up over her clit - pushing her over the edge and making her back arch as she cried out, a ragged groan as her whole body shook.
When she collapsed back on to the bed, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, she watched him push his boxers down and off - tossing them on to the floor. He looked over at her and rumbled something about protection and she had to chuckle as she reached over to the night stand and pulled out a box. Sitting up, she tore off an individual condom and handed it to him, grinning like an idiot.
"What's so funny?"
"I'm just trying to figure out if you've ever had to use a condom before."
"Olivia, I grew up in the seventies, I've worn plenty of them. Stop laughing, you're not making this any easier."
She couldn't help it, and she sat up, gently pushing him on to his back, so his head was down at the foot of the bed. Olivia grinned, straddling his hips as she bowed her head to kiss his mouth slowly and gently, her hand sneaking down to wrap around his cock and to stroke him quickly, easily getting him hard once more. Breaking the kiss she nibbled on his bottom lip and carefully unrolled the condom down around his cock, his moans rough and a bit strained. "It's been awhile." He explained, as if she needed reminding. Shaking her head she kissed him once more, her hand leaving him, and her hips lowering to rub against his head before whispering softly, "it's okay, I understand. We'll go slow."
When she sank down on to his dick he grabbed at her hips and squeezed hard, his head back - eyes screwed shut as he tried to keep his breath even and his mind off how hot she was, how tight she was around him. In fact he thought about the most unsexy thoughts he could muster at a time like this, the last thing he wanted was to come too quickly, like some horny teenager who couldn't control himself. Olivia waited for him, smiling as watched him try and regain control, when he finally bucked up at her she let out a groan and started to ride him, her hips moving slowly until he got use to the feeling and the movement.
Once they got started he was surprisingly good, his hands sliding up to her breasts as she planted her hands on either side of his head and rode him, bringing groans from both of them. He suckled at her nipples and let one hand rest on her ass, squeezing as she pushed back down against him. "So good, an amazing fuck, Olivia." He whispered around a bit of flesh, and she moaned in agreement.
Between his gropes and kisses, she was quickly on edge once more and after a few more rough strokes she came with a shout, her fingers digging at the bed covers as her hips slammed down against his over and over, riding out the orgasm that tore through her. He was right after her, grabbing her and pulling her down to his chest as he bent his knees and thrust up into her convulsing pussy, eager to get off. Grunting and panting he came with a low moan, his lips pressed against her neck to muffle the sound as he exhaled hard through his nose and twitched under her. Both went still, and she sagged on to his chest, her head on his shoulder, her fingers moving idly over his damp skin. Cragen was grinning, his hand moving up and down her back, lightly scratching and feeling the beating of her heart through her skin - and the rise and fall of her back marking her breaths.
"That was really good." She whispered finally, her voice thick with sleep - it had been a long night.
"You sound surprised."
"Well, I wasn't expecting this - I wasn't expecting you to be so good."
"Why not?"
"Well, your my boss, and your old."
He groaned and kissed the top of her head, pressing his nose into the hot strands he inhaled, smelling her shampoo and sweat, it was an amazing smell - one of those he had missed after his wife died. "I'm not that old, and we won't talk about the boss thing." He whispered after a moment, and was only rewarded with a little nod - she was getting to be a bit heavy against his shoulder, so he gently rolled her off of him and cleaned himself up. When he came back into the bed room she was under the covers, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow.
Slowly he dressed, watching her, and smiling fondly - tempted to get back into the bed, what did he have to go home to? Not much. He was about to pull on his shirt when she groaned a little and he looked at her out stretched hand. "Stay here, its late, c'mon I won't bite." He took her hand and climbed into bed with her, laying down and closing his eyes. As soon as he relaxed she immediately turned and snuggled toward him, her head on his shoulder, and one bare arm over his torso. "I cuddle when I am drunk." She confessed to him, and he was more then happy to wrap his arm around her and bring her in closer.
The kissing, the smells, the tastes and the touches were all things that seemed rather inconsequential now. This is what he missed, the warmth the being close to another human and feeling connected to humanity, even if it was for one night.