Chapter Text
Saturday morning smelled like pancakes and trouble. Olivia came downstairs wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top, hair in a messy bun, half-asleep and looking so painfully soft that Alex had to physically stop herself from staring. However, Alex didn’t stop herself from recording.
“What are you doing?” Olivia asked, already suspicious, as she poured herself some coffee.
Alex grinned. “I have an idea for a TikTok.”
“No.”
“You haven’t even heard what it is.”
“Still no,” Olivia muttered.
Alex turned her phone around, showing the title on her screen. “It’s the ‘Assumptions About Us’ trend.”
Olivia blinked. “Assumptions? About us? What does that mean?”
“It means,” Alex said, climbing onto the counter like chaos incarnate, “I read what people think our relationship is like, and you confirm or deny.”
“No.”
“I’ll be sitting on your lap.”
“Yes.”
They set up on the couch—Olivia seated, Alex straddling her thigh, because she claimed “optimal lighting.” Alex hit record.
“Hello everyone,” Alex smiled sweetly. “Welcome to ‘Assumptions About Us,’ featuring my stunning, brilliant, absolutely perfect—”
“Alexandra,” Olivia hissed.
“—who loves me very much and can’t deny it on camera.”
Olivia sighed into her coffee. “Just read the thing.”
“First assumption,” Alex read dramatically, “‘Alex fell first, Olivia fell harder.’”
Olivia scoffed. “False.”
Alex turned to her. “False?”
“I fell first, thank you very much,” Olivia said, deadpan.
Alex choked on air. “Liv—”
“Keep going,” Olivia said smugly.
Alex recovered. Barely. “Assumption two,” she read, “‘Olivia gets jealous easier.’”
Olivia froze. “Do I?”
Alex raised a single eyebrow. “You stare down baristas.”
“He spelled your name with a heart!”
“He was twenty!”
“HE WAS FLIRTING,” Olivia insisted.
“True. Next.” Alex beamed. “Third assumption,” She read, “‘Alex is the little spoon.’”
Alex waited. Olivia sipped her coffee. “…She is.”
“There was no reason to expose me like that.”
“You wouldn’t let me post the rage-bait questions,” Olivia said sweetly. “This is my revenge.”
Alex stared at her like she wanted to… file a motion. “Fourth assumption,” Alex read slowly, “oh… interesting. ‘Olivia is the—’” She coughed violently.
Olivia looked at the screen. “What?” She read the next word. Her eyes widened. “NO. NO. TURN IT OFF. STOP RECORDING.”
Alex was laughing too hard to breathe. “They think you’re the—”
“STOP.”
“—top.”
“ALEX!”
Alex wiped tears from her eyes. “They think you throw me around like—”
“Okay, the video’s over,” Olivia declared, snatching the phone. “That’s enough.”
Just then Noah burst through the front door. “Hey mom, mama—” He stopped. Looked at them. Looked at the phone. Looked at his mom’s place on his mama’s lap. “Oh, God,” he said. “Are you making TikToks again? My friend’s brother still calls you guys MILFs. Please stop feeding him material.”
Olivia nearly died on the spot. Alex giggled behind her. “Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, “your mama’s just popular.”
Noah groaned. “I’m going to my room forever.” He retreated. Fast.
Olivia buried her face in Alex’s shoulder. “I hate it here.”
Alex kissed her temple. “You love it.”
“Nah. I love you.” Olivia corrected, soft and dangerously sincere.
Alex’s breath hitched, and she squeezed her thigh lightly. “And that,” Alex murmured, “is my favorite assumption proven true.”
Olivia was in her office pretending to read paperwork. She wasn’t actually reading.
Fin walked by her open door. “You good?”
“Fine,” Olivia lied.
He gave her a look that said she was the least convincing human alive and kept walking. Olivia sighed, lifted her coffee—and her phone buzzed.
ALEX: 1 attachment
Her heart did a very inappropriate Olympic-level somersault. The preview was blurred. Of course it was blurred. She opened it. A TikTok draft. Unposted. Sent only to her.
Alex’s face filled the screen—no makeup, damp hair, wearing Olivia’s NYPD hoodie. Soft, golden, dangerously kissable.
The music started. “Offering to do anything, I’m like…” Alex mouthed along, then tipped her head down dramatically on the beat—TRANSITION. The hoodie was gone. Alex was suddenly in a silk robe, loosely tied, lying on her back… arching upward? Olivia made an involuntary noise. Sabrina Carpenter sang, “oh my God—”
Alex lifted her head back up—another transition. Now she was sitting on their bed, filming straight-on. The robe had slipped off one shoulder, leaving her collarbone exposed. Her hair was perfectly tousled like she’d been kissed against a wall (which Olivia absolutely had done last night). And her expression was—Smug. Deadly smug. Bedroom-eyes smug.
Alex mouthed along to the lyric: “I get wet at the thought of you.”
Olivia’s soul left her body. The video ended with Alex biting her lip. Biting. Her. Lip.
Olivia dropped her pen.
Fin’s voice floated from the hall: “Everything alright, Captain?”
“NO—” she blurted, then caught herself. “I mean—YES. FINE. I’M FINE.”
She was not fine. Not even a little. Her phone buzzed again.
ALEX: Don’t worry. I won’t be posting this ;)
Olivia’s breath left her like she’d been physically tackled.
Another buzz.
ALEX: Oh, and Liv? If you’re imagining taking that robe off me—good. Love you.
Olivia shoved her chair back so hard it hit the wall. She stood. She paced. She briefly considered quitting her job and dedicating her life to appreciating Alexandra Cabot professionally. Instead, she just typed back.
OLIVIA: Sending that to me while I am at work is cruel, Mrs. Benson-Cabot. Should be illegal.
ALEX: Are you going to arrest me?
Olivia unlocked the apartment door with more force than necessary. She didn’t slam it when she got inside, but her moves were swift—decisive. The kind of entrance a woman makes when she has been professionally tortured by a TikTok draft all afternoon. Because, you know, that kind of thing happens often.
The apartment was quiet. Warm light spilled from the kitchen. Her heart rate kicked up. “Alex?” she called, voice rougher than intended.
“In here,” came the reply—smooth, casual, smug. Of course.
Olivia stepped into the kitchen and stopped dead. Alex stood at the counter pouring tea. Hair down, still damp from a shower. That same silk robe from the video—tied, but barely. A sliver of skin visible where the fabric crossed. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to.
“You got my text?” Alex asked lightly.
“Oh,” Olivia said, closing the distance one slow, predatory step at a time. “You know I did.” She reached the end of the counter, voice dropping, “Dangerous game you’re playing, Counselor.”
Alex finally looked at her. Dangerous choice. “Well,” Alex said sweetly, “you never forbid me from sending you TikToks.”
Olivia dragged a hand along the counter edge like she needed something to hold. “You sent that to me while I was at work.”
“Mhm.”
“Knowing exactly what it would do to me.”
Alex hummed again—pleased, unbothered, absolutely, proudly playing with fire.
Olivia tilted her head. “Take the robe off.”
Alex blinked once. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Alex bit back a smile. “Say please.”
Olivia stepped closer—close enough that Alex’s breath hitched. Her hands came up, bracing on either side of the counter, caging Alex in without touching her.
“Alexandra,” Olivia murmured, eyes locked on hers, “I have been thinking about you—that video for six straight hours.”
Alex swallowed.
“Take the robe off,” Olivia said. A whisper. A threat. A devotion.
Alex let out a shaky breath and reached for the knot, fingers trembling just enough to be noticeable. She tugged once. The silk loosened. The robe slipped open at the collarbone.
Olivia’s jaw tightened. “That’s enough,” Olivia said—not stopping her, savoring the anticipation—“For now.”
Alex blinked up at her. “For now?”
Olivia nodded, leaning in, finally letting her hands touch—warm palms sliding around Alex’s waist, pulling her in against her. “You don’t get to tease me all afternoon and then get everything you want the second I walk in the door.”
Alex’s breath caught. “Then— what do I get?” she asked, voice breathless.
Olivia kissed her. Not soft. Not slow. Not polite. Hungry. Hot. Like it had been weeks since she last had, not last night. Alex melted—hands fisting in Olivia’s jacket, pulling her in harder, deeper, losing herself completely. Olivia lifted her onto the counter without breaking the kiss, the robe parting a little more as Alex’s legs wrapped around her waist.
When they finally broke apart, Alex was flushed, breathing unevenly. Olivia rested her forehead against hers. Alex laughed—breathless, overwhelmed, so in love she couldn’t hide it.
“Olivia,” she whispered, fingers sliding into dark hair, “take me to bed.”
Olivia smiled. Slow. Lethal. “Thought you’d never ask.”
She scooped Alex off the counter, robe slipping dangerously as Alex wrapped her arms around her shoulders—and Olivia carried her to the bedroom, kissing her like the rest of the night belonged entirely to them. Which, it did.
The sunlight had dipped just enough to turn the bedroom gold when Olivia finally loosened her grip around Alex’s waist.
Alex was still draped over her—chest to chest, one thigh hooked lazily around Olivia’s hip, her breathing slowly returning to normal. The room smelled like sweat and perfume.
Olivia brushed a hand down Alex’s spine, slow and steady. “You alive?” she murmured.
Alex made a muffled sound against her shoulder. “Barely.”
“That good?” Olivia teased.
Alex lifted her head just enough to narrow her eyes. Her smile betrayed her. “Wonderful.”
“Oh yeah?” Olivia mused, tucking a strand of hair behind Alex’s ear, “well, you make it easy.”
“Did you know the human body isn’t supposed to bend the way you bent mine?”
Olivia smirked. “You didn’t complain.”
“I’m complaining now,” Alex said, deadpan, “because my legs are made of soup.”
“I consider that a win.”
Alex groaned into her chest. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re dramatic.”
“You seduced me.”
“You sent me a TikTok while I was IN MY OFFICE, Alexandra.”
Alex went pink in the ears. “That is… irrelevant to the discussion.”
Olivia snorted. “Okay, counselor.”
They stayed like that for another minute. Two. Three. Then Alex let out the deepest, most exhausted sigh known to mankind. “I have to move,” she announced without moving.
“You really don’t,” Olivia said, sliding a hand down her back just to prove her point.
Alex, betrayed by her own body, melted like warm butter. “Stop that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll never leave… ever. I’d lay here with you until the day I die.”
Olivia grinned. “There are worse ways to go.”
Alex shoved her weakly. “I need food. Real food. With salt. And carbs. And probably electrolytes.”
“We could order Thai,” Olivia offered.
Alex nodded solemnly, still sprawled across her. “Yes. Before I perish.”
She made exactly zero attempts to stand.
Olivia raised a brow. “Are you planning on actually ordering it, or…”
Alex stared at the ceiling. “No.”
“You’re just going to stay here?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Olivia reached for her phone on the nightstand, still holding Alex with one arm. “Pad see ew?”
“Yes.” Alex paused. “And spring rolls. And dumplings. And rice. Maybe two rices.”
Olivia’s mouth tilted. “For the two of us?”
“For ME,” Alex clarified. “You can steal a bite if you ask nicely.”
“Oh, I’ll ask nicely,” Olivia said, dropping her voice.
Alex covered her face with one hand. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Olivia kissed the inside of her wrist. “Could be worse deaths.”
Alex peeked at her between her fingers. “Stop being charming. I can’t handle you’re charm while horizontal.”
Olivia smiled, wicked and soft. “Then sit up.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay,” Olivia said lightly. “Then I’ll just have to carry you to the couch.”
Alex blinked. “You wouldn’t.”
Olivia tightened her arm around her waist. “Try me.”
Alex squeaked—ALEXANDRA CABOT SQUEAKED—and clung to her. “You’re a menace.”
“Might I remind you that you started it—all of it.”
They both dissolved into laughter, tangled and flushed and ridiculous.
And when the food finally arrived forty-five minutes later, Alex still refused to move, forcing Olivia to answer the door wearing sweatpants, Alex’s teeth marks on her collarbone, and the most unhinged post-sex grin in history.