Work Header

Push My Buttons

Work Text:

They really shouldn’t be surprised, it’s a century-old building and NYPD funding is damn near nonexistent.

Barba should have known the day was being too good to be true, now looking back at it, positive identifications, two full, legal confessions, and a successful arraignment with no bail. It was too good to be true. That’s when he strolled out of Benson’s office bidding her goodnight, he should have kept walking and not had made a pit stop at Carisi’s desk.

What was supposed to be a quick clarification and goodbye turned into Carisi packing up his belongings and agreeing to help Barba with some pre-trial motions.

“No worries, Counselor, today’s been smooth, plus my shift ended half an hour ago, I’m all yours,” the thick Staten Island accent seemed to suffocate Barba and cloud his judgment since he didn’t even try to protest the Detective’s joining.

“If that’s your idea of a nice Thursday afternoon, Carisi, then sure,” Barba made sure to keep his face neutral, void of any incriminating emotions.

Carisi smiled, dimples on full display and eyes shining, “It is, just gimme a minute to get my stuff in order.”

Barba nodded and stepped away to leave Carisi towards his own devices, he goes to distract himself by pulling out his phone and checking his emails and whatever notifications he may have. However, his face scrunches up in confusion then pure annoyance when his phone goes dark, promptly shutting off before he could realize how low the battery is.

Sighing, he placed the phone into his pocket, he’ll just have to charge it when he gets back to his office.

“Uh-huh, sure, see ya later, ‘Manda,” he hears as he turns to see Carisi walking towards him.

“Finally, I thought you may have changed your mind.”

Carisi shrugs, “Nah, I’m itching to get out of here, lead the way Counselor.”

Barba hums, they walk towards the elevator and Barba jams his pointer finger at the button, they wait for a couple of seconds.

Carisi pushes the button again.

“Oh, like I hadn’t just done that,” Barba quips, unamused.

Carisi just rolls his eyes, he doesn’t say anything and mashes at the button again. Barba was close to saying something when the elevator dinged and two people left out. Whatever Barba was going to say dies on his tongue and swiftly forgets about as he steps inside the shaft, Carisi’s long legs follow him behind. Carisi pushes on the first-floor button and it takes a moment, but the doors close.

Barba had decided to close his eyes at that moment and tilted his head back, taking in a breath when he reopens them, Carisi is against the hand railing and his head was cast downwards, staring at the floor as if it told him the latest legal argument.

Just then, the elevator shook into a violent halt, there’s a loud screeching of obvious pressure and friction, the lights blacking in and out, and Barba almost trips over himself trying to regain balance.

On instinct, he pivots his head to look at Carisi who gives him the same worried look. And as if to ruin this good-day streak, the lights finally gives in and the emergency red light flickers on.

Mouth slightly agape and an expression of agony Barba groans, “Son of a bitch.”


Phase One: Catastrophizing


They’re silent for a moment, Barba is staring at the ceiling, willing the lights to turn back on and for the elevator to start moving again. Nothing happens.

“Well this is all but ideal,” Carisi says, he lets out a sigh and rubs at the back of his neck, he’s nervous, Barba can tell.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Barba grumbles, he pushes at the first-floor button, it doesn’t even light up. Barba grumbles, but it doesn’t deter him from pushing against the emergency call button. There's ringing, it’s faint, but it quickly dies. Barba squints and reads the text that states in bold letters: When flashing, help is on the way.

There is no flashing.

“That’s just fucking great,” Barba comments, throwing his right hand up in frustration.

“Not to worry, Counselor,” Barba looks over at Carisi who waves his phone, “the wonders of modern technology!” Carisi idles with his phone and the smile that was on his face a second ago fades.

That’s not a good sign.


“No signal.”

“Nothing? At all?!”

“No,” Carisi deadpans and giving Barba his bitch-face, “I’m just saying that to screw with you,” Carisi rolls his eyes but tucks his phone away, “no signal. I guess we’re fucked.”

Barba tuts, “Famous last words.”

Carisi lets out an amused sound, “We’re not going to die here, Barba.”

“Speak for yourself, Detective, I’m already a foot away from death.”

“You’re so dramatic. What about your phone? No signal?”

“It died while I was waiting for your slow ass.”

Carisi makes a face, but doesn’t rise to the bait, “Probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway, we’re most likely stuck between floors with concrete surrounding us.”

“Oh, how to make a man faithful.”

“Barba we’re in a precinct. Full of cops and detectives, someone is going to figure out the elevator stopped working sooner or later.”

“Somehow I have my suspicions about that,” Barba knows he’s being a hardass right now, but this is not an optimal situation, nor the way he planned on spending his evening. “What if we run out of oxygen? What then, Detective?”

“Okay no,” Carisi says quickly, “that’s not going to happen,” Barba gives him a face and Carisi sighs, “listen, most of these cops in here never heard of damn stairs before. Trust me, someone is going to notice.”

Barba nods, he knows the man is right, someone will notice, eventually , but that’s not the principle.

“You would think, after putting your lives on the lines and being one of New York’s finest, the NYPD could at least provide decent elevator service.”

Carisi lets out a dry chuckle, “Well you love the job, the job never loves you.”

Barba raises his eyebrows at that, tilting his head towards Carisi’s direction, it’s a silent suggestion to continue on but Carisi doesn’t, he just offers a small smile in return.

Barba huffs in defeat, his eyes darted back to the emergency button and tries it again for good measures, nothing, as he should have expected but a part of him was hopeful.

Carisi is leaning against the hand-railings again, his head pressed against the elevator’s wall and his eyes stared up at the ceiling. Barba wondered what the man was thinking but didn’t make any attempt to ask, instead, he wet his lips and stared at the floor, he almost laughed at the parallels and waited.

The silence is deafening, but after a few minutes of staying in the same predicament, Barba sighs, “Well this is just lovely.”

Carisi snorts but agrees.


Phase Two: Problem-Solving


It’s been at least ten minutes since the elevator stopped and Carisi looks as if he’s about to jump out of his own skin. Barba knows the man is a doer, always taking action, seizing the moment, trying to make some semblance of control.

Carisi takes off his messenger bag and places it on the ground, he looks around and turns on his phone again, Barba guesses he’s trying to get a signal but keeps failing.

“Fine. This is fine. We can just escape this situation ourselves,” Carisi seems confident and partly delusional in his ramblings, Barba briefly worries if the man had already started to lose it.

“Oh really? And how do you expect us to escape this elevator shaft, Detective?”

“Easy, I’ll give you a boost,” Carisi says nonchalantly, he nudges his head upwards and Barba looks up at the ceiling.

“What- Carisi you are not giving me a boost .”

“Well I’m not going to ask you to give me a boost, I’m pretty sure if I can get the angle right I can balance myself on the adjacent hand-railings and get myself up there and then pull you along.”

Barba stares incredulously at Carisi, but his eyes dip down to Carisi’s figure, the man probably does have the agility to climb and boost himself up there and then pull Barba along. But despite how alluring that thought maybe right now, Barba can’t help but think how incredibility stupid it sounds.

“Last time I checked you’re a detective, not James Bond. We are not going to climb out of this elevator shaft to safety.”

“Do enlighten, Counselor.”

“Well, for starters, say we do climb out of this box unscathed and then the elevator comes back on, then I’m pretty sure that one of us or both of us is going down. And let's be honest, it may be me. And I’m not too hyped about dying from falling.”

Carisi grumbles something unintelligent and huffs, he lets his head clonk against the elevator walls, grunting in defeat. Barba knows there’s truth in his word and besides, this isn’t a damn action movie. There is no way he’s going to break out of an elevator. However, Carisi is back to his fidgeting and his own deep thoughts. A part of Barba feels bad for shutting down the man so harshly, it’s not like this is a life or death situation, but it is a situation, a pretty pressuring one.

“Okay.” Barba sighs, he looks over at Carisi, “You can give me a boost and I’ll get one of the ceiling panels off, we can do some yelling. Hopefully, get your cop buddies to realize our situation a bit faster. But I swear to god, Detective, if you try to haul my ass out of this elevator shaft, if I survive this, the first thing I’m doing is writing a civil suit against you.”

Carisi instantly perks up at the suggestion, Barba doesn’t know if it’s because he’s anxious to do something, to get out, or just to see how far this stupid situation can go. Nonetheless, Barba ignores it.

It doesn’t exactly turn out as planned.

Carisi kneels and cups his hands and Barba feels a wave of nervousness engulf him. It takes Barba a moment to conquer his nerves but eventually steps into Carisi’s hands, it reminds Barba of cheerleader-style lift, where the cheerleader goes flying into the air and poses. But Barba has neither of the flexibility or the confidence to pull it off. They stumble a bit and Carisi actually manages to lift him a few feet into the air and if Barba wasn’t so focused on just trying to get this damn thing over with, he may have felt his cock twitch in interest.

Nonetheless, they don’t get anywhere after a few attempts and Barba steps off. Not willing to try that method anymore.

“Okay, how about you get on my shoulders?”

“Carisi how old do you think I am?”

“C’mon Barba, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Barba groans, this is ridiculous, everything about this situation is nonsensical. But Carisi is already kneeling down with his head facing the floor, so Barba submits into these stupid antics because it isn’t like he has anything better to do with his time now. It’s awkward.

Barba positions both of his legs on either side of Carisi’s head and then reaches out towards the wall to balance himself once Carisi starts to move. Carisi holds onto his calves for counterbalance and slowly starts to inch his way to standing.

And Barba suddenly remembers that this man is in fact not man, but a tree. All six feet of it.

Carisi is about halfway up when Barba meets his wit's end, “Ahh, okay, no, get me down, now,” he doesn’t even try to wait for Carisi to respond as he tries to slide down. Carisi pivots quickly and traps Barba against the wall and himself, Barba lets out an oof and feels the embarrassment on his cheeks as he slides the rest of the way down. “This isn’t going to work,” Barba deadpans.

Carisi grunts, “Maybe,” but he’s still looking upwards at the ceiling, “or, I can try myself.”

“You’re going to fall.”

“How’s that any different from our last few attempts?”

Barba gives him an unamused look before he can even think about it his eyes are already rolling. “You know what, fine. Go at it, Wonderboy.”

Carisi mutters something but Barba couldn’t care enough to listen, Carisi shrugs off his coat and folds it over the far end of the hand-railing, he does the same with his suit jacket. Barba watches him but doesn’t say anything.

Carisi gives a weary look of his surroundings, then he places on hand on the railing and then the other on the adjacent wall, then, he suddenly lifts himself up. In quick succession, Carisi plants both of his feet onto the railings that match where his hands are.

Anxiety fills Barba and on instinct, he helps to balance the man, Carisi wobbles but steadies himself and Barba swears if he were to look in on this from a third-eyed perspective, they look how stupid as he feels.

“Fuck, okay,” Carisi says, his hand taps against the ceiling and to the detective’s credit, the panel does give up against the ministration but, that’s about it as Carisi loses his balance and then its a squabble to not only keep Carisi up but also himself.

In simpler terms, they lose that battle.

Barba falls onto his ass and if he hadn’t Barba would have to worry about Carisi’s split skull on the elevator floor as the man falls as well, however his head is safe when it pushes against Barba’s stomach.

Both he and Carisi groans in pain.

“That’s it. I’m suing you,” Barba mutters, he’s too old for this.

Carisi lets out a pained laugh, “Yeah, no, that’s fair,” he sits up and turns to help Barba which Barba allows, slowly getting back onto his feet. “At this point, I feel it’s only fair I arrest myself for that major fail, I’m sorry, Barba.”

The last part, the I’m sorry, Barba is spoken differently from the rest of the sentence and Barba doesn’t find it hard to trade in his insult for acceptance.

“It’s… It’s fine, Carisi, don’t worry about it, I would rather that than your cracked head against the floor,” Barba spares him a smile and Carisi smiles back at him and nods.

“Yeah, okay, I guess no more of that then.”

“Heavens no, expect a warrant for your arrest for this idea alone.”

Carisi only laughs at that, it eases the tension that’s rapidly building in the small room. Each of them has come to their own conclusions about where this night may be heading but neither want to voice it out loud.

Carisi sighs, he looks down at the floor and gives it a moment of consideration, “I’ve sat down on worse,” he mumbled to himself and proceeds to sit on the dirty elevator floor.

“Oh, that’s unsanitary on so many levels.”

Carisi gives him a grin, “Nice pun,” Barba blinks and didn’t even realize it, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. “Besides, we already got a taste of the floor when we fell, might as well.”

Barba can’t find an argument with that, so reluctantly, he strips off his coat and suit jacket as well, this is going to be a long night. Barba places the items next to Carisi’s and he slowly makes his way down onto the grimy floor.

Just fucking great.


Phase Three: Irritation


Barba is bored. And that is never good. He’s twiddling at his fingers and he has a look in his eye. He looks up at Carisi who’s idling on his phone and smirks, he’s going to pick a fight because he can, and what a perfect candidate.

Barba thinks for a moment before deciding to go with a legal argument, it would make Carisi the most arguable and not prone to shutting down, with a click of his tongue, he catches Carisi’s attention.

“Recreational marijuana should be legalized as it will help the economy, create new jobs for those in need, free up scarce police resources, and halt the huge racial disparities in marijuana enforcement.”

Carisi tilts his head, he’s confused by the sudden outburst but then takes in Barba’s demeanor and statement. A smile creeps on his lips and he tucked his phone away.

“It would only increase and encourage teen usage and cause preventable medical emergencies e.g driving while high or workplace accidents due to the lack of focus. Plus, the ends do not meet the means in terms of revenue since hospital visits, addiction treatment, and more harm is done to this environment will ultimately skyrocket.”

Barba grins, Carisi easily takes the bait and Barba will admit that he’s impressed with the counter-argument.

“In Colorado, marijuana brings three times more tax revenue than alcohol, the state raised $78 million in their first year after starting retail sales and the number keeps going up. Apparently, a much-needed financial boost for New York given our current situation.”

Barba shrugs, the argument falling off his tongue easily, his eyes meets Carisi’s, the blues are already fired up and ready.

“But the societal cost for legalizing marijuana will outweigh the revenue it creates, emergency visits, medical care, and addiction treatment for the uninsured. It also creates an increase in crime and a negative impact on those caught in second-hand smoke.”

Carisi is now arguing with his hands, it’s going which way to further accentuate and prove his point and Barba finds it amusing.

“Well, legal marijuana will be regulated for consumer safety. Just like no teen can buy alcohol or cigarettes, they also can’t buy marijuana. Plus, people who buy on the street have no way of knowing what they’re getting into and where their stuff has been. Most of the time, dealers sell bad mold, fungus, or pesticide infested packs. If marijuana is legalized, the government will have to enforce laboratory testing and regulations to ensure marijuana is free of toxins.”

Carisi takes a moment to ponder Barba’s response and come back with his own, it sends a flair of excitement through Barba to watch Carisi think, how invested he became in the argument in just a matter of seconds. Barba watches as Carisi’s blue eyes dart back and forth for a moment before settling back to Barba’s green eyes.

“In theory, sure, but the reality is, marijuana is addictive, and the dependence of the drug will increase with legalization. And along with the codependence, the risk factors increase. Everyone was a teenager once, so there’s no guarantee that they wouldn’t get their hands on it; therefore, kids between twelve and seventeen are at risk for mental development problems as they fall victim to substance abuse.”

They go like this, back and forth for a few minutes, it brings joy to Barba to see Carisi become more passionate with his response and actively descriptive. Barba brings up the injustice of racial discrimination with tobacco companies in general with the targeting of market sales directed towards POC. Carisi brings up the risk factors for everyone, the environment, and the economy as marijuana causes more crimes and injuries, harms the soil, and tears business corporations apart.

It wasn’t until Barba mentioned the policing of marijuana did Carisi get jumpy.

“Hey, those out in the open joints and weed had saved and allowed us to catch the bad guy more than once!” He points out, which is true.

Barba can’t help but laugh at that and nod, “Ah, possession charges, always the best way to deal your way into useful information, despite stop and frisk being banned ages ago.”

“Haha, hilarious,” Carisi deadpans, but Barba can see his lips tugging into that smile.

“Hmm, it’s true, doesn’t mean you cops can jump through borderline legal loopholes to obtain their means.”

Carisi has started this off-beat and not rhythmic tapping of his finger, it’s crude and the sound bounces through the small room. It annoys Barba.

“It’s all in favor to help you win a case.”

Barba grunts, “Oh? That’s what you’re trying to do? Despite everything being thrown out and inadmissible.” Barba closes his eyes, the joys of debating gone as its replaced by the awful sounding taps.

Tap-tap, stop , tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap, tap.

“I’m close to breaking your fingers if you do not stop that horrible tapping noises, Detective.”

But Carisi doesn’t stop, because when does he ever?

“Hey! What do you mean ‘you cops’ anyways,” Carisi asks, his eyes narrowed.

Barba groans.


Phase Four: Thirst


Barba’s mouth is dry and he’s feeling awfully thirsty, he could taste the remnants of the coffee he had from earlier but it’s only a sad reminder. Barba also wonders about a bathroom situation and decides it’s better if he doesn’t think about any liquids.

Barba also comes to the realization, it is extremely hot in this elevator. Carisi has already acknowledged this and had made a plethora of verbal annoyance, Barba tries to ignore it, however, but Carisi grits out another string of grievances and in a quick motion discards his vest and starts popping the buttons on his dress shirt. Barba’s eyes follow greedily as Carisi removes his tie and expose his tank-top. Barba can see the pale skin, the flesh of his neck and parts of his chest. The undershirt is damped with sweat so it sticks to Carisi chest so fucking beautifully. Carisi is lax, given the situation, his legs spread and his head pressed against the wall in sudden exasperation.

Barba lets out an involuntary groan, his eyes darkening with unprompted lust and want. But he catches himself and shakes his head. “Getting comfortable, Detective?” He says, to cover for his momentary loss of control.

“It’s fuckin’ hot in here, Barba, cut me some slack,” Carisi groans out, apparently Carisi and heat is no good pair, “Aren’t you sweating?”

“I’m Cuban and grew up in the Bronx, I’m immune,” Barba says, throwing a lazy smirk at Carisi, “Fine, yes, it’s burning in here but you don’t see me doing a strip-tease.”

Carisi laughs, “Strip-tease? That's what this is to you? Hardly.” Carisi looks over at Barba, sends him a wink, “Besides, maybe you should get rid of those layers, Counselor, don’t need you to catch a heat stroke on me.”

Barba feels his cheeks heat up, his eyes dart to the ground, “I’m fine, Detective.”

Carisi gives him a glance, “I doubt that, but okay.”

They settle into a silence, Barba thinks about taking off his vest at least and perhaps his tie too, because it’s been at least forty minutes of them stewing in this hotbox and Barba sees no endgame of them getting out anytime soon. Barba keeps glancing over at Carisi who is now pulling at his shirt, trying to get some air against his heated skin but all Barba can focus on is the flashing of Carisi’s naval. This alone makes Barba hot enough to reconsider his previous position, so in subtle defeat, Barba removes his vest, loosens his tie, and rolls up his sleeves.

“Well this has been just delightful,” Barba groans before Carisi can comment on his change-of-heart.

“Hmm, if we’re trapped here any longer I may have to resort to taking off this dress shirt and tank-top,” Carisi grumbles as if that was the end of the world when, in fact, would be the best possible solution.

“The misery,” Barba says without thinking, it’s sarcastic as all hell and Barba can’t help but stare at the slight muscle peeking from under the dress shirt.

Carisi is amused, “I see you raise no objection, Counselor, I would think you would offer the same courtesy.”

Barba stammers, he looks up at Carisi and Carisi isn’t backing down from his statement. “Give me a reason to and I might indulge you, Detective,” Barba tuts and swiveled his finger around, “as you previously stated beforehand, Carisi, your fellow cops should be on the way soon enough and I rather not be seen shirtless by other prying eyes.”

“Good,” Carisi is quick to say, “I rather no one else sees you.”

Barba blinks, his breath getting caught in his throat, he can see the wave of possessiveness flash through his eyes. Even Carisi demeanor changes to a watchful eye over Barba, appreciative and dark.

“I guess I would say the same to you, Carisi,” the admission lays heavy and neither of them tries to poke at it to delve into it further. The implications are there, but Barba rather not talk about it, especially not now.

Barba notices how stupidly hot Carisi looks right now, the dim lighting, the glistening sweat on Carisi’s forehead, running down the detective’s face, the curling of blond hair, products and gel diminishing as time goes on. Carisi’s lips are parted as well, he’s breathing through his mouth and Barba watches as Carisi wets his lips.

Barba feels his blood dissipate from his head and run elsewhere, it makes Barba feel dizzy.

Barba scrunches his face, he thinks back onto their time here. How they’ve been bouncing off one another, off-handed quips, legal arguments, stolen looks, wondering eyes, subtle-but-not-so-subtle flirting. It all bears on Barba, heavy.

Barba spares another glance at Carisi, his head is pressed against the elevator wall. One of Carisi’s sweat beads runs down the man’s throat and over his Adam’s Apple, he sees it bobs slightly and Barba has to tear his eyes off of the scene before he does something incredibly stupid and inappropriate, especially towards a sex crimes police.

The thought of Carisi arresting him shouldn’t bring this much joy and excitement to him but it does and Barba has to cancel all his thoughts together.

Barba is weak and can’t help himself but look again, he sees Carisi’s long, pale neck, unblemished. Barba wants to change that. Wants to leave his hickeys against that skin, dark bruises. It would make the detective so much prettier.

Barba sees Carisi tense, the muscles clenching ever-so-slightly and Barba is hot all over again.

Barba is slightly bemused, he feels like a horny teenager and he hasn’t felt like that since, well, since he was a teenager.

Just to place his mind elsewhere, he briefly considers the chances of the elevator crashing, of them, plummeting to their deaths. That doesn’t do Barba much good since he starts to overcompensate, what if they do die in here and despite not being so religious, Barba does consider the chances of spending the rest of his eternity in this damn elevator, engulfed with sexual tension. What kind of purgatory would that be?

“Purgatory?” Carisi pulls his head off the wall and looks at Barba, amused, “Anything you want to share with the class, Counselor?”

Did he say that out loud? He may be losing it. This elevator is a fucking stove and right now the pressure, the heat, the intensity is getting to him, despite Barba being exceptionally well under pressure, since he is a prosecutor, right now, he feels moments away from losing it.

“Uhh,” he says unintelligently at first, he focuses, “last time I checked it was only us, Detective.”

“Ah, you’re deflecting,” Carisi hums, not missing a beat.

Barba doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t trust his voice and he sure as hell rather protect his dignity, or at least what’s left of it. Quiet has settled into the room and apparently, that was a no-no for Carisi as he’s prone to making some type of noise.

That noise is in the form of his horrible tapping against the metal door.

Barba doesn’t know if Carisi thinks he has a good rhythm going, knows he doesn’t, or just plain out doesn’t care but it’s driving him insane. The quick successions of taps, varying in beats and intermissions, especially in a room where no other sound was being emitted for Barba to focus on.

“Would you cut it out already? Jesus, you’re a child,” the insult rolls, Barba stares at Carisi who couldn’t even give him the time of day to spare him a look, instead, he only half smirks and continues. How could a man be so hot and yet so fucking obnoxious?

Barba’s annoyed. The tapping keeps going and just in spite of him the beat is even worse and entropic than before and Barba has half the mind to commit murder. He’s pissed off because all his eyes keep wandering back towards is Carisi’s neck, his throat, the stretched tank-top against Carisi’s pectorals. He’s pissed off because all he wants to do is rip that shirt off and touch everywhere and suck the paleness from Carisi’s skin.

Barba’s just annoyed at Carisi for being in this situation with him, for putting him in this situation. Barba rationalizes if he hadn’t waited for Carisi the elevator wouldn’t have broken down on him. This is wholeheartedly Dominick Carisi, Jr.’s fault but all Barba wants to do in return is give Carisi the best orgasm of his life.

Barba’s nose scrunches, he’s also pissed off at NYPD, for its horrible funding and little care of its people, like how has nobody noticed by now?

Most of all, Barba is annoyed at himself, for pussyfooting this situation since he realized it had been a situation. This infatuation, despite it being more by now, with Carisi.

“Detective Carisi, I said cut it out,” Barba grunts when the tapping disrupts his destructive thoughts.

“Oh yeah?” Carisi says, Barba catches his eye and they hold there, even in this dim lighting he can see the detective clearly, “ Make me ,” it’s spat out irritably, almost as infuriated as Barba feels.

And if those aren’t fighting words, Barba doesn’t know what is.

Because something in Barba snaps, like a chain of dominos, piece by piece he loses the little cool he had, his eyes are still locked with Carisi’s, but something lays underneath and forces its way towards the main event before Barba or Carisi can notice.

Thus, before Barba’s brain can catch up with his body, the usually level-headed lawyer moves, fast and predatorily because he’s way past his breaking point at this moment and all consequences are damned.

Barba’s kneeling before Carisi, between the detective’s, widening legs and he’s grasping at Carisi’s wrist, it puts an end to the terrible tapping. Barba’s hold is tight, his thumb can feel the quickening pulse of Carisi’s, their eyes haven’t left each other. Carisi tugs slightly at the pull, testing the strength Barba has on him.

Barba knows if Carisi were truly uncomfortable with this he would’ve pulled his wrist free since the Detective has enough strength to do so, but he doesn’t, Carisi just licks at his lips and stares.

Barba is torn between scolding the Detective and kissing him senseless. He still doesn’t know which yet, the scene is intense and neither is saying a word to address it. But then, Carisi’s eyes leave him, just for a second but it’s enough because those blue eyes go downwards to glance at Barba’s lips before meeting back to his eyes.

Barba just then decides.

Barba dips his head and presses his lips against Carisi’s, the Detective is frozen by the situation, but Barba couldn’t care less. He presses against Carisi, hard , it’s almost punishing how Carisi’s head gives a soft thud against the wall. Barba pins the offending wrist above the Detective’s head and presses harder. He licks at Carisi’s lips and they immediately fall open. Barba licks at his mouth, making sure that Carisi can feel every bit of his answer to his make me statement.

And just when Barba decides enough is enough, he pulls away, but not without nipping at Carisi’s bottom lip first.

Barba throws down Carisi’s wrist with disinterest, “I said cut it the fuck out, Detective,” he restates, but his breathing is ragged and his eyes are now cloudly. His blood is confused about where to go, the rampant beating of his heart, the hardening of his cock, or the rushing of his head. With one more glance, Barba retreats to the opposite side of the wall.

Carisi blinks, once, twice, his brain still not catching up with the previous events, but the man nods, it’s dumbly and he’s obviously not focused, “Um,” he mumbled, still out of it, “yeah, okay, sorry Counselor.”


Phase Five: Maudlin Contemplation


“What do you think is wrong about it?” Carisi asked out of the blue, it’s been a few minutes since that kiss and neither of them had said anything about it.

“Can you be more vague, Detective?” Barba mutters because he truly has no idea what it is, so he waves his hand, “As you so fabulously deduced beforehand, the power is out of the elevator, perhaps a broken fuse or something along those lines.”

Carisi shakes his head, “No, no, not the elevator. About the police, the squad, how we get the evidence we need.”

Barba finally spares a look at Carisi, his lips are pressed into a tight line and his eyes are staring at his twiddling thumbs. He’s seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Barba briefly wonders how much his comment had an impact on Carisi.

While Barba doesn’t really want to have this discussion, especially not in this hellbox where his skin feels like it’s melting, there’s no reason to ignore Carisi and make matters even worse. There’s already high enough tension as it is.

“I don’t expect every case to be airtight, Carisi, I didn’t get to where I am from being baby fed every piece of evidence, you, the squad, do what you have to do at that moment to protect and serve. Even if it’s not the most legal and ends up fucking us over in the end, that’s my headache, not yours.”

Carisi thinks for a few, pondering on Barba’s words, “But it obviously gets to you, you always lash out in the end anyway.”

“Carisi, you’re the first one I would think that would understand. Shouldn’t you know evidence can get thrown out if obtained illegally? And trust me, you guys tapdance on the line of legality far more times than I can count.”

“Are you serious? Sure, maybe not everything is by-the-book, but it’s legal, Lieu makes sure of it, sooner or later you have to admit that you aren’t the world’s best and can be outsmarted by the defense attorney.”

This is exactly why this isn’t a conversation they should be having now, for comments like this, where usually Barba would stand his ground and argue back, where he is going to argue back, but once that happens he has nowhere to escape to and cool down. Neither of them does. And until then it’s going to stew in this room.

“It’s not my fault that some judges can’t overlook corrupt means of cops to allow the piece of evidence to stay in, no matter how damning. There are times I went into chambers whether with Calhoun or Buchanan knowing I’d lose the hearing just because of how shitty you guys did to get information or evidence but I still try anyways.”

“Corrupt? I don’t know if you noticed, Counselor, but it’s not exactly easy doing all the work to put together your case.”

“It’s not my concern, Detective, it’s your job to get me a case I can win and I can’t win on falsely obtained facts and evidence. Christ, you want to think that you know everything just because you passed the bar? It’s not even half of it, wait until you have to argue your point in chambers in front of a judge on the fly, or when you have to cover your detectives fuck-ups to try to get justice for the victim. It isn’t just knowing the law, Carisi, it’s also applying it. Something you seem to forget at times.”

“A case you can win, eh?” Carisi parrots, but Barba can hear the disgust in his voice, “We both know the law never guarantees justice but at least it makes a statement. Since when was this about your case rate? And here I thought you actually cared about getting justice not just a percentage boost. You know, Barba, I’ve seen you win cases with less evidence, heard you make take-it or leave-it plea deals, and I’ve been apart of some of your trial prep questionings. You do good. But every once and awhile you lose your streak and decides to blame everybody else but yourself. It’s not our job to give you a case for you to win, it’s just to give you a case.”

They’re both fuming at each other, words said like punches thrown, each new sentence leaving a different kind of sting.

“Oh, we’re talking about character now, Detective? Or should I say St. Dominick since you always think you know what’s best for people? Since you always try to add yourself into a conversation you were never invited in the first place? Since you always want to play the martyr? Give me a break, Dominick, it’s time for you to learn not everything is handed to you, not everyone is presented with the same opportunities like growing up in a good Catholic family, with pre-destined chances already handed to you. Some of us had to work hard to get here, so forgive me for being a bit protective over my turf.”

“You know what Rafael? You are so damn in love with your fucking misery that it pities me at times. We all know it. Me, Lieu, ‘Manda, Fin, we’ve all seen it and had been on the bad side of the end of it just because you don’t know how to trust and let in. You’re not slick, Rafael, as much as you would like to call us idiots, we know you use your insults and backhand comments as ways to deflect and hide your true character. You love that pedestal you call a throne and you belittle everybody you meet. You’re so scared. Your defenses scream at you about who to trust, who to let in, who to love, who to respect so you push everybody away with your rude-ass jokes and comments in hopes they would leave you alone. You know, you would think after years of knowing someone, after years of having each other’s backs, you would at least respect me but I’m still a fucking child to you.”

Okay, that one hurt. Like a lot more than Barba’s willing to admit. Barba bites at the inside of his cheek and looks away.

“You’re right,” he starts off, “I’m so in love with my misery because it’s been the only emotion and feeling I’ve known. I didn’t grow up in a good household and the friends I’ve made in my childhood are all gone. The only good thing I have left is my mother and there’s a lot of bad history there too. So you’re right, Dominick, I am in love with my misery because it made my skin thick, my expectations low, and my feelings guarded. So yeah, I bite everyone’s hand off with my sardonic comments and rude demeanor, I keep everyone’s at an arm's length because I know nobody should be subjected to the damn snowstorm that’s going on inside. You know why?” Barba finally lifts his head up, he takes in Carisi’s forlorn expression. “Because I respect you too much. Because I respect those too much as people, as victims, as colleagues, as friends. You’re not a child to me, Dominick, you’re a man that I envy because he has all his ducks in a row. While I’m still trying to get my shit together.”

They fall into silence, it’s for a few long minutes too. The tension is thick and all-around uncomfortable. Barba just wants to fucking leave, he doesn’t even know what possessed him to say all of that, to confess so openly. He wants to blame Carisi, he wants to blame the heat, he even wants to blame his father, but all he has to blame is himself. So Barba huffs, he drops his head and pulls up his legs so he has something to hold.

“Rafael, I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“Save it, Dominick, you already said you pity me and that’s the last thing I want. I have good days, hell, great ones, and I still belittle the people around me. You’re right, on most days it’s a defense mechanism, but some days it’s just me.”

They sit there for some more and Barba’s sure it’s been at least an hour since they had gotten into this predicament. What a good day turn into such a shitty one.

“No,” Carisi speaks out of nowhere, Barba gives him a questioning look, “No I’m not right,” and before Barba can stop him Carisi continues on. “You’ve been through so much, more than I can ever imagine and the worst you’ve done is saying mean comments. There are people who kill due to situations like that and here you are. Maybe it took this argument to see it or perhaps I always knew but your pain is what makes you a great human being and an even better lawyer. It’s true, my do-good and know-what’s-best attitude is so narrow-sighted due to my growing up situations and there are many times I fail to see the other side of things due to lack of personal experience. Sure, your comments are a defense tactic and they’re also ingrained into your personality, so the two molded into one, making it hard to decipher which side of the spectrum you’re receiving. But you’ve never said anything with true malice and you always end things with a smile because there’s a heart in there.” Carisi sighed, “I’m sorry for what I said. It truly is an honor of knowing you even if you can be an ass sometimes.”

The soft quip at the end makes Barba chuckle, it’s soft and it's a bit broken, but he doesn’t think he has the mental capacity to defend it. There’s a smile on his lips, it’s faint, but there, and Carisi sees it.

“Sometimes, I don’t even think you’re human with the amount of good in your heart.” Barba says, “You never ceases to amaze me on your intelligence or wholehearted attitude. You’re such a polar opposite to me and at first, I thought it was annoying, you do have that effect on people,” they share a laugh, “but it’s a beautiful thing to witness and to be apart of. And with each passing day, I’m glad my defenses haven’t driven you away.”

They meet each other’s eyes again, “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Counselor, I’m sorry to say, but I think you’re stuck with me.”

Barba laughed, the tension isn’t broken, at least not completely, but it’s dwindled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Detective.”


Phase Six: Sexual Tension


They’ve made idle chatter after that, neither one has addressed the less-than-appropriate kiss, the room is still, for the lack of better terminology, tense. Their arguments still lingering above their heads despite making their apologies. Barba almost swears he passed out from the sheer heat alone, Barba had opted on unbuttoning his dress shirts minutes ago.

Barba sighs, “I’ve officially given up on your cop buddies, prepare to die with me in this torture box.”

Carisi doesn’t respond, Barba furrows his brows and looks up, the Detective is in deep thought and he has been for a while. He looks troubled and Barba was going to chalk it up as the side-effects of their argument.

“Okay, you can’t just do that though,” Carisi says suddenly, Barba has a brief thought that Carisi was talking to himself but the Detective looks up at him. Barba worries that they’re about to get into another fight and he’s not mentally prepared for that.

Carisi makes hand gestures towards the both of them and flails, leaving Barba to try to piece together what he means.

“Perhaps if you were a tad bit clearer with your situation, Detective, I can give my input.”

Carisi groans, both hands now in full action, he’s still trying to work out his statement in his head. “That, you can’t just kiss me angrily in the elevator and then not equivocate on your intentions.”

Ah. Barba should have known this was eating the Detective, but in hindsight, Barba didn’t want to put too much thought into it in fear of saying or god-forbid doing another stupid thing.

“I mean, how many people do you know had gotten so angry with you that they kissed you?”

“Okay, you’re deflecting and it’s seriously not helping. The point is you cannot just do that to people without warning-”

“Well I did, and to be fair you had provoked me,” Barba almost laughs at the incredulous stare he was given, neither knew that wasn’t an excuse for Barba’s behavior and Barba would be lying if he feared a complaint with HR.

“I- what? I did not provoke you!”

“You said to make me, clear fighting words, you knew if you pushed you’d get a reaction out of me. Okay, maybe you weren’t expecting that, but you did know something was going to happen.”

Carisi falters for a bit, “Okay, fine, yeah, I was trying to goad a reaction from you but I expected a yelling match or even a fist-fight.”

Barba squints, “You wanted to fight me in the elevator? Not to even mention how fucking stupid that would look but also illegal? You’re a cop. You trying to get me thrown in jail, Detective?”

Carisi whines and Barba has to bite his lip, “Well- no, not like fistfight, but like squabbling at most. Okay, I was bored and I wanted to bait you, that’s why the tapping was so horrendous, but I expected an ‘I will sue you for police brutality, Carisi’ or an ‘I know how to get away with murder, Detective, I can defend myself pretty well in court,’ not an ‘I will kiss the living daylights out of you on this elevator floor’, y’know?”

Barba blinks, “You got some fucking fantasies, don’t you Carisi?” Barba shakes his head, “At least when I wanted to pick a fight with you I did it through a civil, legal, and non-violent debate. Christ. It’s not like I had planned on kissing you at that moment.”

“So, um,” Carisi’s voice is kinda small, wavering, “why did you? You know, kiss me?”

And honestly, Barba expected more from New York’s finest and a certified lawyer. He did. Perhaps Carisi knew, but he wanted to make Barba say it so he absolutely knew, or maybe the man was just that damn oblivious.

“You know what, Detective? Take a guess. Maybe I was delusional from the heat and hadn’t known what I was doing, or perhaps I decided that’s how I wanted to hit you, with my lips, or maybe I just have a penchant for the dramatics and thought that as the most theatrical instead of your fantasy fist-fight.”

“Yeah,” Carisi says rather dumbly and Barba doesn’t understand how he fell so hard for this moron, but he did because Carisi looks stupidly adorable with confusion written on his face. “Heat, people do irrational things whilst overheated. Y’know? Some cities reported having more crime during especially hot summers.”

Barba sighed, “No, no, I did not know that Carisi, thank you as always for your tidbits of information. Perhaps you’re right, I am moments away from having a heat stroke on you and that’s the way I reacted towards dying. Yes. Plausible.”

Barba doesn’t know if Carisi wants to state the obvious or is too afraid to state it. Perhaps the kiss ticked the good heterosexual Catholic too much, maybe he should start looking for a new unit to be in since he’s going to get fired for sexual harassment now.

“Or…,” Carisi trails, his head tilting to the side.

“Or?” Barba prompts because he’s done finishing Carisi’s sentences for him.

“Maybe that’s something we both wanted but had to get it the only way we knew how to: through banter.”

Barba blinks, the admission heavy and for once for Carisi’s side of the conversation intelligent.

“Is that so, Detective?”

“Mhmm, I mean, the lighting here is dim, to say the least, but it casts such an alluring shine over you. The sweat beads and your rolled sleeves mixed with this-” Carisi stops, but shrugs, he tilts his head and smirk casts over his lips, “-sexy lighting makes you fucking irresistible right about now, and I’ve thought of nothing more but having your cock in my hands right about now.”

Barba wasn’t expecting that, especially due to how the conversation started. Barba swallows, maybe not so heterosexual after all, especially not after that filthy shit. Barba’s cock full on twitches in his pants and he stares at Carisi.

“I mean,” Carisi says nonchalantly, Barba now realizes Carisi is on his knees and he’s slowly making his way over towards him, “I’ve been just waiting for you to take off the rest of your clothing because for the better part of us being here I’ve been just staring at your arms and biceps. What I want more than to get out of this hellhole is to see those arms quiver and your mouth wide while I jerk you off.”

Okay, maybe not even a good Catholic boy after that. Barba lets out a groan and that only entices Caris more, when Barba blinks again, Carisi is in between his legs, their faces inches apart.

Barba wets his lips, he has so much to say and nothing at all, he manages to say it all in one word.


And just like that, the two connect their lips again, kissing passionately and just as roughly as before. Carisi’s knee is placed strategically against Barba’s crotch and if Barba ever-so-slightly moves he’d feel the amazing pressure of it against his hardening cock. So Barba does, he’s rocking back and forth, grinding against it. Carisi is highly amused by this, in quick successions, Carisi is able to tug off Barba’s dress shirt and tie in favor of running his fingertips up and down Barba’s forearm.

Barba only mimics Carisi’s acts but goes farther when he tugs at the undershirt and almost ripped it off of the detective. Carisi gives a chuckle and pulls away, Barba is quick to protest, but not quick enough because he sees Carisi pull off the tank-top and he’s momentarily distracted with how fucking hot Carisi is. His chest glistens with sweat, but the man is lean and muscled.

Carisi sees him staring and grins, Carisi is also quick to change their positions so that he’s sitting on the grimy floor and Barba’s on top straddling him. Barba’s hands are greedy as they rake across Carisi’s back, he makes sure to leave red lines in their wake, Barba bends his head down and recaptures Carisi’s lips.

He groans into the kiss, it’s damn near perfect, Carisi just knows how to kiss, their lips are moving against one another, sucking and leaving tendrils of pain, Carisi’s tongue enters his mouth, first doing a possessive scope around before finally intertangling with his own. Carisi’s tongue wraps around his own and sucks the same time Carisi’s thrusts his hips upwards and Barba makes a sound he didn’t know he could.

They both continue like this, Barba’s hands are all over Carisi now, his pectorals, his naval, and now they are dancing against Carisi’s tented pants. And Christ, Barba knew the man was hung and all he wants to do now is get Carisi’s dick out and into his mouth.

But Carisi pulls away from the kiss and pants, but that doesn’t dissuade Barba as he starts kissing down Carisi’s neck, fulfilling his oath from earlier that day. He starts nipping and sucking at that pale neck, one bite was right near Carisi’s Adam’s Apple which elicited a groan from the Detective below.

Barba pushes his hips down, he feels the way their clothed cocks brush together and grits, doing it again while simultaneously marking up Carisi’s neck.

“Wait.., wait Ra-Rafael,” Carisi all but moans out and Barba stops.

“Wha…? What’s wrong, cariño?” the Spanish nickname slipping off his tongue before he can stop it.

“We have a security camera in here.”

Barba blinks.


“We have a camera in here.”

“Carisi, may I ask, why we are in this situation right now?”

Carisi looks at him, fearing it might be a trick question, “Because the power is out in the elevator…?”

Barba hums, “Yes, and if the power is out that means…?’

Carisi takes a moment but then sighed in defeat and nods, he laughs at his own idiocy and frankly, so does Barba because the man is ridiculous at times.

“It means that the security camera is also down, yes, I know, I’m sorry,” Carisi groans, “Also I hope you didn’t bite so hard,” he says, trying to change the topic. Barba lets him.

“Hmm, not hard enough, actually,” Barba says and tries to rectify that because truly, it wasn’t hard enough. But this time Barba moves downwards towards Carisi’s chest.

Carisi grunts, “I didn’t come in here with hickeys all over my neck, Barba.”

“I don’t care.”

“Someone is going to notice.”

“I still don’t care.”

“That door could open in any second right now.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Barba finally takes the bait, he pulls off of Carisi’s flesh and instead nips at the tip of Carisi’s ear, “Talking all that filthy shit to me, wanting to jerk me off right here, I doubt you’d care if there was an audience as soon as you get your hand on my cock.”

It’s Carisi’s turn to whine, but at least the man makes himself useful by tugging at Barba’s pants in silent permission. Barba nods.

“Take me out, Dominick, don’t you want to see me quiver? Just for you?”

Barba doesn’t know what he expected to happen when he taunted the man like that, but in rapid speed, his cock is hitting the hot air which only sends more blood down there to harden it.

Carisi spits on his hand and then grasps at his cock and Barba feels the air leave his lung when Carisi, without preamble, starts jerking off his cock. No mercy at all.

Barba’s mouth is agape and he loses every bit of his self-control right there. Whimpers and whines flow out of his mouth as his brain is still trying to catch up with this.

“You have a fuckin’ filthy mouth, Counselor,” Carisi fucking whispers, its low, gravelly, and it’s hot as hell, Barba didn’t know how hot his accent can be, but right now, Barba couldn’t imagine anything else. “Good thing your mouth is so damn pretty, look at it now, open, our saliva still covering your lips and those beautiful sounds comin’ from ya.”

Carisi’s eyes are intense, he’s staring into Barba’s and Barba can’t even fight himself to look away. It’s like his eyes are glued to Carisi’s blue ones and it makes the moment that more intimate. Barba can’t help but have another moan slip out when Carisi tightens his pressure and twists, it sends blinding pleasure through his body and Barba is certain he may fall apart if Carisi’s hands ever leave him.

“Please, please, please,” he finds himself saying, he’s also fucking into Carisi’s hand, they become in a perfect tangent of one another. “God-fuck! Please, Dominick!”

Barba knows he’s close and he would be embarrassed for being done so fast but he can’t find the time to blame himself with Carisi’s hand working him like it was born to jerk him off. Carisi swipes his thumb against Barba’s red and angry tip and Barba has to hold onto Carisi’s broad shoulders just to keep himself upright as he cries out.

His eyes became unfocused a long time ago, even though they’re still staring at each other, Barba is just too caught up in his own bliss to acknowledge the intensity of Carisi’s eyes. Carisi must have known this because his eyes finally leave him to look down at the scene below him and Barba takes that moment to close his eyes.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Barba damn near whispers, but his own voice is loud in his head. “Soleado, please, por favor, solo así, no pares,” Barba slips into Spanish, he doesn’t even realize it until Carisi’s hand stop and unfortunately, so does his pending orgasm. “No, no, no, cariño, why,” Barba straight out whines. And yeah, he realizes his arms are quivering now, how the shake and stop from the moment, and yeah, he realizes Carisi was able to completely debauch him in less than five minutes, and yeah he’s still trying to fuck into Carisi’s hand.

But he stops when he gets a smack on the ass.

Barba gasps but his cock only twitches, he opens up his eyes to see Carisi’s eyes staring back. The light blues almost now completely darken with lust and that sight alone is enough for Barba to lose his protest.

“Nothing to say now, eh?” Carisi just growls out, he takes a handful of Barba’s ass, “Always so quick to say something, how about this? You don’t cum until I say so.”

Barba’s breath is still all over the place, “I-I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Detective, but we’re kinda on an unknown deadline. Those doors can open anytime.”

“And wouldn’t you love that? You always love making such a scene for people around, how would this be any different from all the other times you’ve strutted across the courtroom? Who knows, you may just cum harder knowing that those doors can open and people can see how much I’ve destroyed you,” Barba can’t find any words to refute this, hell, he can’t even find words, period. Who knew that the altar boy had such the mouth on him.

“Please Detective,” Barba found himself saying, his hand is wandering down Carisi’s chest when the younger man hums, “please let me cum, fuck.”

The look Carisi gives him is damn near illegal and he knows if any judge just saw the dark, predatory, and damn near possessive look Carisi just gave him they would sign off on an arrest warrant for the man.

“Then do it yourself.”

The words hold so much weight and meaning onto it, but Barba has no time to think about it at all because the next thing he knows he’s hips are thrusting in and out of Carisi’s closed fist and his hands return to the Detective’s shoulders.

“Just like that,” Carisi grits out, his lips are now attacking Barba’s pulse on his neck, leaving a dark bruise there, “fuck yourself with my hand, sweetheart, just how you like it,” Carisi’s words are whispers pressed against Barba’s skin and Barba can’t help but feel like he’s losing his fucking mind right now. The tight heat Carisi’s hand brings is almost heavenly and he fucks into that warmth to his earnest, there’s a slew of moans, curses, and pleads, falling from his mouth and it doesn't take Barba long to get back towards the teetering edge.

“Please,” he says this time, “please let me cum, I need to cum, Sonny, please.”

Carisi pulls away from his neck, Barba knows he’s now sporting a few hickeys but he couldn’t give less of a damn. They meet each other’s eyes and Carisi just grins, “Go ahead, Rafael,” and there’s something about the way Carisi says his name, maybe it’s the accent, maybe it's lust, but Barba can’t decide now since an earth-shattering orgasm wracks him and leaves him a panting mess. His cock is twitching, spurting out cum and Barba knows his eyes are open but he still can’t see.

Barba doesn’t realize until he blinks his eyes that there’s soft whispering right into his ear, “Just like that, there you go, you’re so good for me, Rafael. God, I don’t deserve you. You’re so beautiful,” and of course to trust Carisi to get sappy despite not even being the one who came. Barba finally regains some consciousness and he pulls himself up from here he slouched over onto Carisi to look at the Detective. He gives a slight pained moaned when he realized Carisi is still softly stroking his cock, but the man finally let's go and there’s a white mess on his hand. “Ah shit, I don’t have napkins, maybe if you pass me my undershirt, I don’t really need it-”

Carisi stops because during his little ramble Barba was able to de-cloud his dizzying head and come back, without even saying anything Barba takes at Carisi’s wrist and licks at the man’s hand. Clean. Finger by finger and then his palm. His tongue runs over it all, lapping up the substance piece by piece until there’s nothing left to lick at.

“Holy fuck,” Carisi all but moans, his breathing a bit ragged as his eyes are widen in surprise, Barba is just glad to regain some control back.

“Maybe if you gave me a moment,” Barba starts, winking at Carisi, he licks at his lips, tasting himself, “you wouldn’t have to consider soiling your shirt,” Carisi just stares, but he’s amused now and Barba rolls his eyes. Barba glances around, still, nothing has changed or indicated that it will, so Barba tucks himself away and starts to slide down until he’s situated in-between Carisi’s legs. “Now, if you don’t feed me your cock in five seconds I will leave you blue-balled here,” the threat comes so easily but it’s fun to see Carisi’s momentary shock leave and his confidence return.

Carisi unzipped his pants and pulls out his cock and honestly, Barba can’t see it all that great especially in this darkened lighting but nods his head, he knew that dick was big. Barba wastes no time getting his lips over the weeping cockhead, a slippery mess of precum and heat, and both Barba and Carisi groaned when Barba sucked at the tip.

Barba feels Carisi’s hand on his hair, not pushing or demanding anything, just there, Barba hums and plants his free hand at the base of Carisi cock and starts bobbing his head. Carisi truly does have a long cock, probably the biggest Barba has ever had the pleasure of meeting and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to deep throat it. So that’s what Barba preps himself to do, Carisi has some girth to his cock but it fits snugly inside his mouth, so as Barba pulls his head up and down Carisi shaft, he relaxes the back of his throat and slowly removes his hand from the base. Barba breathes through his nose and pushes down, feeling as the hot member fill his mouth more and more.

“Oh shit, Rafael,” Carisi breathes, he sounds absolutely destroyed. Barba’s glad he can return the favor.

Barba teasingly lifts his head all the way up back to the tip, smiles, and then reclaims all of Carisi’s cock in one swift go. Carisi has a string of curses that falls from his mouth, his fingers curl into Barba’s hair and Barba knows it takes every last of Carisi’s control to not just fuck into his mouth right there.

Barba’s nose is nestled into the curls of Carisi’s pubic hair and it’s filled with Carisi’s scent, which may Barba add, is intoxicating. His mouth full of cock, he relishes a bit, taking in the full feeling of having Carisi’s cock stuffed down his throat. Barba finally ends his fun and Carisi’s torture when he pulls back up, there’s a string of drool that leaves his mouth and soaks Carisi’s dick entirely. Barba swallows the rest and sends Carisi a filthy grin, he bites at his lower lip before going back down.

This time, Barba just sucks Carisi cock, Barba twists his head slightly, his tongue runs lines against the pulsating veins, his cheeks hollow, his lips tighten, his head fucking bobs.

This is all leaving the man below him a wanton mess, Barba can feel Carisi’s thighs twitch, he can hear Carisi’s breathy moans, and he can see Carisi’s tightening balls. The feeling making Barba feel light-headed.

Nonetheless, Barba continues sucking at Carisi cock, but Carisi taps at his head, “B-Baby, sweetheart, Rafael, I’m going to cum,” Barba feels his eyes roll at all the endearments rolled into one and Barba is about to carry on but he feels a little bit vengeful.

So he pulls off.

The wet obscene sound that follows it is downright sinful.

“Fucking, goddammit,” Carisi grunts, his hips bucking this time.

Barba just chuckles, he pushes himself up and they hold eye contact for a moment, Carisi’s breath is labored and hadn’t quite caught up with him yet, but Barba doesn’t care. He reclaims those lips that he already missed so much. Carisi moaned into the kiss, eager to kiss Barba back and to taste himself. But before the kiss becomes too carried away, Barba pulls back and only smiles when he sees Carisi’s lips follow his.

Barba tuts and starts to kiss down Carisi’s neck, “You like to pull my hair so much, don’t you Detective?” Barba isn’t looking for a response but he gets one anyway with a tug of his hair, Barba’s lips go down further to Carisi’s chest and down towards his navel, “And didn’t you say I have pretty lips?” Carisi grunts in response and Barba hums, he finally kisses the cockhead and returns to look back up at the Detective whose eyes never left him. “Then why don’t you show me how pretty I am?” Barba leans up and bites at Carisi’s lower lip, “Don’t you want to fuck my mouth, Dominick? I know you’ve been holding back, but I would think, after seeing me take all of your cock in my mouth you would think I would want that.”

Carisi doesn’t miss a beat, his fingers tightened in Barba’s hair and Carisi claims his lips once more, it’s a rough, dirty, and it tells Barba all he needs to know. Once they disconnect, Barba leans down and gives one last consenting nod at Carisi, he trusts the man knows when Barba has had too much, and then he wraps his lips around the weeping tip again.

Barba breathes and relaxes his throat.

And that’s all Carisi gives him time for, because not a second later does the man has complete control over his head and fucks into his mouth. Barba lucky staves off a gag the first time the tip of Carisi’s cock hits the back of his throat, but he can’t say for the second time as a spurt of spit leaves his mouth. The sound Carisi makes when he hears Barba gag on his cock is great like the man needed an ego-boost on this fucking pole he calls a dick, but Barba is happy to make Carisi enjoy.

And Carisi enjoys.

Barba only makes sure his lips are sealed tight against Carisi’s member and he sucks every so often, despite that, Barba lets his mouth be fucked and used by the detective in every which way he wants. And Carisi knows what he wants. It’s fast and dirty, Barba keeps choking on the man’s dick, but it’s so worth it, he hears the punched out breaths, the groans of his name along with the filthy dirty talk, the iron grip he has on his hair. Barba fucking loves it. All his inhibitions gone, he feels fucking fantastic, letting Carisi fuck his mouth, Carisi managed a rhythm which Barba wasn’t sure he was able to do after the horrible tapping and meets in perfect tangent with the subtle thrust of his hips.

Barba doesn’t want it to end.

“You fuckin love that, you cock slut,” Carisi fucking growls at him when Barba moans around his cock, “Christ, I think you ruined me, Rafael,” Carisi admits, he keeps losing his control every now and then, letting out a shuddering moan when Barba’s sucks at a particularly sensitive spot or when his cock twitches in his mouth and Barba just swallows it up. “God, who knew you were such a damn size queen, Jesus, Rafael, I wanna make you mine ,” the last words are dripping in possessive undertones and Barba knows they’re going to have to have a full conversation about this, about them, later. But later is not now because now he has a cock ramming in and out of his mouth and he would much rather think about that, thank you very much.

Barba notices how Carisi starts to lose his rhythm, how his moans are longer, and his movements are desperate. Carisi is losing his control quicker and quicker and the Detective doesn’t stop talking, Barba briefly wonders if he thought Carisi ever would.

“R-Rafael, I’m gonna cum,” if the accent wasn’t thick before, it sure as hell is prominent now and Barba makes a vow to hear Carisi’s voice get like that again. Barba tries to shrug at Carisi’s words, he’s going to swallow the man’s cum, Barba doesn’t even know why the man thought different. But Barba guesses it’s for consensual reasons which Barba enthusiastically gives by pulling his head down. “A-Ah, okay, okay,” Carisi mutters, Barba wishes he can see Carisi, but the way he has manhandled his head makes that a bit impossible. So he settles with the sounds he hears instead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Carisi cusses, now Barba’s head is just going up and down, up and down, until, “ Fucking shit! ” Carisi pushes Barba head down so Barba’s nose is nuzzling at the base, he holds it there, forcing the lawyer to take all of his cock while his hips thrust inside his mouth.

And then Carisi cums.

Just like that, Barba feels and taste the cum in his mouth and despite how wrecked his throat feels as of right now, he still greedily tries to swallow it up.

Carisi let his grip loosen, but his hand doesn’t leave Barba’s hair, there’s still whimpers being punched out of Carisi’s throat but Barba knows the man is thoroughly blissed out as of now. So he takes the liberty of cleaning his cock for him, Barba removes his mouth first, taking in greedy breaths of air, he spares a glance at Carisi who’s looking at him intently and then looks back at the softening cock. He dips down to lick it clean. Carisi all but sighs and hisses slightly when Barba sucks lightly at the top.

But when Carisi’s dick is finally clean-ish, he tucks the man back inside his pants.

They bathe in the afterglow and silence for a bit, just the sound of their breathing is heard. Then Barba smiles, Carisi sees.

“You go to confessions with that mouth?” Barba all but laughs out, his voice is raw and so is his throat, he wishes he had something to drink rather than cum but situations could be worse.

Carisi laughs with him and playfully shoves at Barba, apparently, back from wherever he may have drifted off to. Carisi pulls Barba back onto his lap and starts leaving soft kisses against Barba’s neck and shoulders, “You dare to talk at all with that filthy mouth you have? Seriously, where did ya learn to suck someone’s cock like that?” Carisi grunts against his skin.

Barba only hums, his throat feeling too fucked out to talk, but when Carisi starts licking at his skin and then biting, Barba grows curious, “May I ask what are you doing?”

“Claiming this land,” Carisi says and gives no further explanation as he softly bites at Barba’s skin, Carisi laughs before adding, “It’s my Manifest Destiny. My Carifest Destiny. My expansion is given by God himself.”

“Oh yeah, love this white imperialism pillow talk you got going on, Carisi,” Barba deadpans, but he can’t help but laugh, “Ugh,” he groans when there’s sudden pain in his throat.

Carisi instantly stops and looks up at Barba, his crinkling to assess the situation, he sighs when he realizes and Barba can’t believe how quick Catholic Guilt can get to Carisi.

Carisi plants a soft kiss against Barba’s jugular, “I’m sorry,” he whispers. The act is sweet and Barba would be lying if he said he didn’t eat it all up.

“Don’t be,” he rasps out, “I haven’t felt this great in years.”


Phase Seven: Self-Actualization


They get their clothes back on and leave only their suit jackets and coats off, it’s bad enough that the elevator smells heavy of sex, they don’t need to add onto the suspicion by being half-naked. They sit next to each other, their shoulders aren’t touching because it’s too fucking hot for that, but Carisi’s hand is over Barba’s.

And that’s enough.

Barba’s tired, his throat is sore as hell, he wants water, and cool fucking air. But all-in-all he’s content just sitting right here. His head is pressed against the elevator wall and his eyes are closed.

“Rafi?” Carisi starts.


“How about we do those pre-trial motions back at my place, so I can cook you something to eat as well?”

Barba grins, of course, Carisi fucks and then wine and dine.

“I think you got the order backward, you were supposed to wine and dine me first,” Carisi laughs and shakes his head, “but yeah, I think I’d like that. But if you expect me to stay over, I need to pick up a suit for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, of course, I have my car today, we can drop by.”

“Sounds like a deal then.”


There’s a smile on Barba’s face and he doesn’t let go of it.

They sit there for another ten minutes.

“I told you your cop buddies were no good,” Barba says, shaking his head. They’ve been here for two hours.

Carisi sighs and nods, “Yeah, honestly, I thought we’d be out by now, this is just ridiculous.”

“Well, at least I had a great orgasm before I died.”

Carisi chuckles, “We’re not going to die, you drama queen, we just have to wait-” Carisi stops mid-sentence when the elevator fumbles and Barba’s eyes widen.

This is it. They’re going to plummet to their deaths and Barba’s going to have cum in his stomach when they finally find them does an autopsy on him.


The lights flick back on and stay on. Barba shields his eyes, groaning, he blinks a few times to adjust to the new lighting.


Both Barba and Carisi say as the elevator starts to move, they get up from the floor and dust themselves off.

“How do I look?” Barba asks, shrugging on his suit jacket.

Carisi glances at him and opts to just hold his coat and jacket, “Like I fucked you.”

Barba gives him his bitch-face and groans, “Okay, not great at all, thank you Carisi.”

Carisi only snickers, but he turns Barba’s face so he can look at him and kisses his lips softly. “You look great,” he says as he pulls back, his face now neutral and void of any previous emotions.

Barba tries to shake off the smile before the elevator stops again and it takes a moment but they hear a ding and the doors open.