Work Text:
“Y’know, you could let me cook for you, Counselor.” Carisi admonished, as he slurped the lo-mein from his chopsticks. “I got a table plenty big enough for all these files. We’re gonna have heart attacks from all the sodium in this food.”
Barba huffed, “Yes, but see, then I have to travel, Detective. YOU are shadowing ME, which means you have to deal with my eating habits if you want to stick around.” He stabbed a piece of Carisi’s Kung Pao Chicken with a grin, “including sharing.”
“Turnabout’s fair play,” Sonny grinned as he snagged a piece of shrimp from Barba’s open container. His grin fell when a distinctive tone echoed from his pocket. The 7th time that evening. Barba had been counting. “Uh, I should…” Sonny pointed at his phone.
“Go…check in with your keeper, Detective.” Barba waved him toward the door.
“Hey, it’s not like…” another chime. “Whatever, I’ll be back.”
Barba tried not to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it. Concern. That’s all it was. He was worried about the young Detective. This new relationship of his seemed to be wearing on him, and he was just watching for warning signs of…of what? He didn’t really think the young man would let himself be abused, he was an SVU detective, for goodness sake. But still. Rafael didn’t like the way he was constantly worried…
“No, I told you I’d be late…Yes, I’m at the courthouse…oh, come on, you know where I am, you put that GPS app on my phone. Y’know, the phone I’m talking on right now...I know, it’s not easy being apart baby, but that’s just my job…well, no, technically I’m not on the books, but I’m learn--…well, it’s still work if I’m…No, I’m not alone, you know that…”
Rafael tried not to let his fists clench. This controlling piece shit was trying to force Sonny to leave, when they were finally getting somewhere. And he knew he’d succeed. He stepped to the far side of the office and poured himself a drink as the conversation in the hallway became more muffled.
“Hey, Counselor?” Sonny eventually stepped back into his office.
“Let me guess…you’re headed home?”
“Uh…yeah, somethin’ came up, sorry,” Sonny quickly gathered his things, “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He smiled at Barba with a slight flush.
“Sure.” If your boyfriend lets you. Rafael kept the last words to himself. He was fairly sure he was the only one to know the gender of Carisi’s newest flame, and he didn’t want to ruffle his feathers.
“OK…so…I’ll uh, think about stuff, and…” Carisi hurried out the door.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Barba muttered, with a smirk.
“Har-de-har-har. My thinking helps you, and you know it.” Carisi smiled as he practically jogged down the hall.
Rafael swallowed the last of his drink fast, pouring himself another one directly after. “Damnit, Sonny.” He mumbled into the glass. He was having a really hard time figuring out if he hated this new guy because he treated the young detective poorly, or if it was just plain old jealousy. They'd gotten closer since the night Sonny had caught him, alone and vulnerable, in his office, and while that meant 'smarmy friends’ to Sonny, it was starting to mean a hell of a lot more to Rafael.
*****
“While ascots can certainly be fashionable, I don't think it goes with your usual style, Detective,” Rafael said with a smirk.
Sonny shrugged and flushed slightly, fingering the knot at his throat. “What's the harm in trying something new, right?” His smile was forced, though, and it set Barba on edge immediately.
“What’s going on?” He narrowed his eyes, “you've been fidgeting with that thing all morning, and you're on the stand this afternoon. I don’t need a fidgety detective.”
Sonny stepped back, “Woah, Counselor, it’s fine, ok. No biggie. Just...uh... covering things…”
“Things?” Rafael's eyebrows shot up.
“Well, yeah…” Sonny pulled down one corner of the scarf around his neck, then slid it back into place.
“Bite marks? Jesus, Sonny, what the…”
“Hey, I don't have any opinions on what people might or might not consent to in bed, and this isn't the first time I've had marks on my person, so don't you get all holier than thou--” Sonny began a tirade until Barba held up his hand to stop him.
“Detective Carisi, I don't give a rat’s ass what you consent to, until it affects my court case. What ever possessed you to allow your bed partner to mark you like that the evening before an important trial?!” Barba snarled. “I’ve never known you to be this unprofessional.”
Sonny had the good sense to look ashamed. “Well, I didn't realize how it’d look... I mean, I thought they'd be lower or something.”
“Jesus, Carisi, I know you like showing off that you're taken now, but reel it in, ok?” Rafael couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice. He also didn't miss the flash of fear that passed through Sonny's eyes. Or the redness around the other side of his neck he hadn't shown Rafael. Something told him Sonny hadn't wanted those marks visible. He wasn't unprofessional. But maybe he didn't have much of a choice.
“Ok...let’s deal with this monstrosity first,” Rafael said with a sigh as he gestured toward Sonny's neck. “Come with me.”
And Sonny happily followed, relieved that his friend didn't seem to be holding a grudge.
Until they walked into the Duane Reade and stopped at the cosmetics aisle. When Rafael bent down and started grabbing a few different containers of medium-peach liquid, Sonny stepped back. “Woah, what're you doing? Carisi men do NOT wear makeup!”
Rafael ignored his protests and held the bottles up, one by one, to his neck and face. “I’ll get both of these, there's no testers here.”
Sonny shook his head, “come on, man…”
Rafael grabbed the bottles of concealer and ran his fingers over the flat cakes of powdery stuff Sonny recognized as ‘foundation.’
“Two? What? Nah, man…”
Rafael grabbed one of the containers and spun around, “this is going to happen, and we’ll discuss it in my office, capisce?”
Hearing Barba scold him with a little Italian was kinda hot, Sonny had to admit, and he just nodded and followed along until the ADA’s office door shut behind them.
“Now, scarf off, for the love of fashion.” Rafael waved his hands at Sonny's neck. Truth be told, Sonny’s taste in suits had markedly improved lately, and Rafael was looking forward to seeing him look his best on the stand.
Sonny shook his head, “nuh-uh...I can handle it, Counselor.”
“No, obviously you cannot, or you would have chosen this avenue in the first place.” Barba stood in front of Sonny, armed with concealer, and waited.
Sonny didn't meet his eyes as he slowly unwrapped the scarf, and Barba barely contained the growl he felt growing deep in his gut.
Not only were there dark hickeys and bite marks up the right side of Sonny's neck, but the left side had a red patch and blossoming bruises that looked like fingertips.
“Sonny…”
The detective's eyes shot up instantly. Barba never called him that. Nobody at work did, no matter how insistent he was.
Rafael continued in a quiet whisper, “Madre de Dios, you didn't kick his ass for this?”
Sonny shook his head, “we got carried away, ok? Just...do your thing.” He bared his neck and stared at the ceiling, remembering just how 'carried away’ they’d gotten that morning.
==++==
“mmm, you look gooooood…” Keith wrapped his hands around Sonny’s waist as he tried to straighten his tie. “Good enough to eat, baby…” his hands slipped lower and he pulled Sonny’s ass against his naked groin, making his arousal evident. “How’s about you play a little hookey…let’s take this to the bedroom, huh?”
Sonny smiled at his amorous lover and shook his head, “Sorry babe, I have a big case this afternoon. I really have to get there on time and meet with Barba.”
“This the ‘Barba’ you’ve been hanging out with so much?” Keith’s voice dropped lower, and his hands tightened their grips on Sonny’s hips. “He know you’re taken, baby? He know you’re MINE?”
Sonny yelped as Keith sunk his teeth into the side of his neck and started sucking on the skin caught between them. “Oh my god! Stop!” He jumped away and shoved his boyfriend. “I’ve got court today! I can’t testify with hickeys like a teenager!”
Keith’s gaze turned predatory, “Why not?” He stepped closer and kissed Sonny hard, pushing forward until the tall, thin detective was pressed against the wall. He broke away, grinning, “I like it when people know you’re taken.”
Sonny patted Keith’s face and smiled at the ferocity in his lover’s eyes. He hadn’t been with someone so attentive in a long time. Keith loved being with him, he loved touching him, and Sonny loved feeling so needed and wanted. “But it’s not professional. I can’t make court day about my private life.”
The hurt in Keith’s eyes was palpable. He backed up and dropped his hands. “You’re ashamed. Afraid of what your buddy cops will do if they find out you’re shacking up with a guy.”
Sonny was devastated. “No! no! Babe, that’s not it at all. Several people know.” He quickly crossed the distance between them and kissed Keith deeply, until he felt his hands wrap back around his body. Sonny had told people. Maybe he didn't want it getting around the whole borough, because there was still a stigma against gay cops, but he wasn't concerned about his friends. He hadn't told them many details, though. He wasn't ashamed of Keith, but... Maybe he was? Keith wasn't the kind of guy he'd think a cop should be with. Sonny didn't care if he was seen as gay, but he didn't want to be seen as weak.
Keith quickly took control of the kiss, plunging into Sonny’s mouth, and reaching between them to pull at his tie. “Then make ‘em wait.” He growled, then fought with the rest of Sonny’s clothes.
Sonny started to protest, he was already on the verge of tardiness, but he quickly relented. He didn’t want Keith to think he didn’t want him just as much as Keith wanted him. He tried to pull back when the sex got rough, but Keith was lost, spewing beautiful things from his lips as he claimed Sonny’s body, wrapping a hand around his throat and biting and sucking a path from jaw to collarbone, grinning as Sonny’s body tensed and he fought to breathe for just a moment. Just long enough for Keith to spill his release inside his aching hole.
==++==
“Detective, please hold still,” Rafael’s exasperated voice broke through Sonny’s internal replay of that morning.
“Sorry, Counselor. Just…uncomfortable.” Sonny made a conscious effort to stop shifting in the hard wooden chair.
Rafael didn’t stop his attentions on Sonny’s neck, but he sighed. “I’d chastise you for acting like a petulant child, but…” he paused and looked into Sonny’s eyes, “I have a funny feeling you didn’t have much choice in that, either?” he asked quietly.
Sonny shrugged, “Just got carried away, is all. Keith is very…passionate. Now can we get this over with? It feels cold and disgusting on my neck.”
Court went well, the jury quickly returning with a guilty verdict, but Sonny seemed to be fidgety immediately afterward. Barba clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him for not screwing up too badly (with a small smile that told Sonny it really was a compliment), when a large man stepped between them.
“Excuse me, I’d like a word with my boyfriend,” he said, loudly. Sonny’s face went white as he looked around, then grabbed the man’s elbow and angled him toward an empty conference room.
Barba waffled. He should go, give the men their privacy. But there was a hint of fear in Sonny’s eyes that he couldn’t shake. Barba thought of the bruises on Sonny’s neck, his inability to sit comfortably, and so he waited. He sat in the hall, listening for raised voices or any sign of a struggle, and checked his email on his phone.
“Jesus, Keith!” Sonny hissed the second he slammed the door, “What the hell?! You can’t just barge in here like someone just stole your damn car! I saw you sitting there watching me… what happened to work today?”
Keith’s hand slid to Sonny’s neck and he wiped his thumb roughly over the thick coat of makeup, revealing one rather colorful bite mark. “Who did you get to hide this for you, huh? That pansy-ass lawyer out there? You know you like it rough, why are you ashamed of that? You didn’t hide the cuff marks last week.”
Sonny sighed, “I’m not ashamed. Yes, I like it when we do those things, but I can’t have marks like this during a court case. Anything that distracts the jury from the testimony is a detriment.”
“You’re choosing work over our relationship. That’s what you’re saying?” Keith sat in one of the chairs and crossed his arms over his chest. He chose not to answer Sonny's question about his work. This was about Sonny, not him.
Sonny started to get annoyed. “No, I’m doing my JOB. It’s nothing to do with you. Damnit, can’t you see that I can’t fuck this up? If I fuck up, bad people get put back on the street. Or they never get caught. Why is that an issue?!”
Suddenly, Keith’s demeanor changed. He leaned forward and dropped his head, “Because…Sonny….I think…” He looked up and met Sonny’s eyes, “I think I’m falling in love with you. And it makes me crazy sometimes. Especially thinking about that guy touching you…touching you where I had my lips just a few hours ago.”
Sonny’s annoyance melted. “Oh, babe, God, I’m so sorry. I was an ass.” He sunk onto his knees in front of Keith and kissed him. “I think I’m falling in love with you too.” Hearing a confession like that made Sonny forget his annoyance.
Barba tried not to throw up a little in his mouth as he watched the two men leave the conference room together, Sonny draped across Keith like a drunken trophy wife. As they slipped out the door, Keith shot him a glare with narrowed eyes that looked way more threatening than the rest of his demeanor exhibited.
The man was good. He had Sonny fooled. But Barba saw him for the manipulating bastard he was. In that instant, he was determined to protect Sonny, even if it meant the younger man would never speak to him again.
*****
“Has Carisi talked to you lately?” Benson asked, sitting down on the leather couch in Barba’s office a few days after their last court date.
“No. I've seen Rollins for paperwork mostly, why?” Barba leaned back in his seat, resting his hands in front of his face, pointer fingers together as though he was in thought.
“He’s just acting... different. Subdued. He didn't go out with the squad the other day, and he used to be so excited for everything, and today I overheard that he was thinking about dropping out of Fordham at the end of the semester.” She shook her head, “he was so proud of the possibility he’d pass the bar. Now he’s acting like it’s an inconvenience.”
This felt like a punch to the gut. Barba had been too busy to check on Sonny in the past week and a half, and it seemed like the man was already changing himself to fit Keith’s wants and needs. “There was just that issue at the courthouse,” he said, mostly to himself.
“Barba, what did you do?” Liv asked, accusingly.
“Hey now! For once, my hands are clean, Lieutenant.” Barba tipped his head back and sighed, “but I'd noticed he was getting a lot of text messages and calls while we were working. He came to the Marsala trial with hickeys that Jaws would be proud of. I was concerned, but got caught up with everything here…”
Liv shook her head, “he wanted to testify like that? That's not the Detective I've worked with this past year. He'd never jeopardize a case like that! Plus, I think he's doing some of Rollins's paperwork in exchange for her coming over here. I figured you had a falling out, and eventually he'd get over it.”
So he's actively avoiding me. And quitting law school, the thing he's most proud of, and nearly complete. Barba thought to the insides of his eyelids. It had to be this Keith. “You want me to talk to him?”
Olivia shrugged, “you seemed like you were getting close. He and Rollins are friends, but she isn't getting anything either. I need my detective back, Barba. His work is sloppy, he’s distracted, he’s skipping out on overtime, we need him.”
Barba nodded. “I’ve gotten as far as I can get today,” he stood, stretched, and closed the files on his desk, “I’ll head to his apartment now.”
*****
Sonny stood in his kitchen and tried to control his breathing. Keith had lost his job, had moved in with him after only 6 weeks of dating. That was why he’d been in court that day, he’d gotten fired. And now he was sitting on his ass in the living room, fuming because Sonny dared mention Barba’s name.
“If you like him so much, why don’t you let him fuck you like you like? Huh? I’m not good enough for you? Not some high powered ADA, I’m just an unemployed loser?” He’d growled, and Sonny knew it was passive aggressive, but he’d caved.
“Babe, you know I don’t see you that way! That job sucked anyway, you’re better than that. You’ve got a degree in physical therapy and athletic training, you don’t have to slum it in some crappy gym begging for clients. You could work for a college, or one of the teams around here, or a doctor’s office. You just gotta apply yourself!” Sonny avoided his remark about Barba.
Keith noticed.
He stormed away, plopping onto the couch and turning on a sports game. Which sport, Sonny didn’t notice, as he stood in the kitchen and looked around. His normally spotless kitchen was disheveled, dirty dishes and food packages everywhere. He’d been at work going on 14 hours, so it wasn’t his mess, but it was his apartment. He sighed and rolled up his sleeves, knowing it wouldn’t get cleaned if he didn’t do it.
This wasn’t healthy. He knew it. But it was a roller coaster of highs and lows with Keith. He was like an addict—getting through the lows just to chase that high. The highs were costing more and more, and getting further and further apart, but he couldn’t stop. The highs were good. So good. Romance, and beautiful words, and mind-blowing sex just how he liked it, and making love soft and slow until tears formed in his eyes. This was what he wanted more of, and if he had to deal with crap tons of dirty dishes, he’d do it. Because he was an addict.
Fuck. Sonny closed his eyes. An addict. He opened his eyes again and scanned the room. If someone had said that he, Sonny Carisi, was addicted to cocaine or heroin, and this was his life? He’d believe it. He looked down at his clothes. His new suit was crooked and wrinkled, and...Shit, he wasn't even sure he'd done his hair that morning.
Fuck.
But Keith was a good guy. Deep down. Screwed up, sure. Anger issues, jealousy issues, protective, yeah. But a good guy. And Sonny couldn’t dump him because he had issues, right? That’s not cool. He’d been cheated on before, lied to, broken. He needed someone who really cared.
Amanda would tell him he’s just rationalizing. Just making excuses to avoid confrontation. She’d be right, but that didn’t mean he had to change. He could handle this.
“You do want him, don’t you?” Keith’s voice startled Sonny. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, his broad shoulders blocking the only exit. A power play.
“Keith, I want you, ok? I’m not gonna cheat on you, with Barba or anyone else. Why don’t you trust me?” Sonny hated the whining sound to his voice. This wasn’t him. He was a strong NYPD detective, capable of kicking ass and taking names.
“I trust you. I just don’t trust him. He watches you. I saw it in the courtroom that day. Like how he sat in the hall and waited for us? He wants you, and I don’t trust him.” Keith straightened his back and smiled, “I love you, and I don’t want anything to come between us. We need to both work on our communication, I think.”
Sonny nodded. He could have asked for more clarification before just getting pissed off. “OK. I’m sorry I yelled.”
Keith wrapped his arms around Sonny’s shoulders and kissed him. “Me too.”
And suddenly, Sonny forgot how crappy he felt just a few minutes earlier. They’d worked it out, minimal yelling, and now all he wanted was to be wrapped in the big, strong arms of his lover. The man who loved him so passionately. This was what he wanted. The yelling, the possessiveness, the unemployment, the mess, he could deal with that, as long as he wasn’t alone. He had someone who really loved him.
“Oh, hey, my buddies called, they want to hang out, I’m gonna grab a few beers, I’ll see ya later, though, right?” Keith winked and grabbed Sonny’s ass.
“Yeah, I’ll be here,” he half smiled. Apparently the moment was over.
Forty-five minutes after Keith left, Sonny was vaguely happy with the condition of his apartment. He still had laundry to do, but he slipped his shirt from his pants, unbuckled his belt, and flopped onto the couch just in time to hear the buzzer. “Damnit,” he grumbled, then slowly made his way to the door. He checked the intercom, but nobody was there. Probably a delivery guy, they always pushed a bunch of buttons hoping someone would let them in. Just as he turned back toward the couch, there was a knock. He checked the peephole.
Barba.
Double fuck. If Keith came home and Barba was here, he’d flip.
Sonny opened the door a crack, tightening his belt again. “Look, Counselor, now’s not a good time.”
As usual, Barba wasn’t fazed. “It seems like it’s never a good time, Detective.”
Sonny let his head rest on the door frame. “Lunch tomorrow?”
“You’ll just avoid me.” Barba had slid his very shiny and probably very expensive shoe into the door, keeping Sonny from shutting it. “I do have a few observational skills. As did you, until about 3 months ago, it seems.”
Sonny snapped his head up to look Barba in the eye, “You sayin’ I’m slipping, Counselor?”
“Yes.” Barba’s tone was clear and sharp. “You’re making stupid choices, your work is crap, and you’re not focused anymore. We need to talk.”
Sonny clenched his jaw, closed the door enough to unlatch the chain, then swung the door open wide. “We need to talk? Why? So the great ADA Rafael Barba can impart some of his magical wisdom? He’s never wrong, you know.” Sonny was immediately on the defensive.
“No.” Barba stepped just across the threshold, “Because we need you back, Detective. Fordham needs you back. You class up the place.” He hoped a little sarcasm would pull Sonny back from whatever extreme he was experiencing right now.
It helped. Slightly. “Ha. You think I have no class.” Sonny smiled slightly and stepped back, letting Barba into the living room. They were almost friends, before Keith, and Sonny knew this was his way of caring. Tough love. But he had no right to tell Sonny what to do.
“Better than most of the people at Fordham Law. You’ve been upgrading your suits lately, I’ve noticed. They look good.” Barba almost winced. He was there as an intervention, not to flirt.
But then, Sonny beamed. Briefly. The old Sonny was there, preening under Barba’s compliment, “yeah, I know I look good. Come on, Staten Island can be hot, amirite?” But the instant the words were out of his mouth, Sonny visibly flinched, glancing down at his disheveled appearance. “Sorry, Counselor. Not really appropriate. You…uh…wanted to say somethin.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Sonny, You’re different. It’s affecting your friendships and your work. Talk to me.” Barba wanted to put a hand on the young man’s arm, his shoulder, something, but he guessed it wouldn’t go over well, if he was right about what was going on.
“Hey, y’all wanted me to talk less, right? This is the new, grownup me. All settled down and stuff. Even got myself a live-in boyfriend. Haven’t done that before.” Sonny gave a huge, fake, smile.
Barba felt a pang of sorrow in his chest. He’d never seen a smile from Sonny that wasn’t genuine. “Sonny…”
“No, not Sonny.” He stepped away and sat on the bar stool by the counter. “Detective, or Carisi, that’s all good. Just…not Sonny.”
“Why? You ask everyone to call you Sonny.” Barba stepped closer, but stopped when the detective held up his hands.
“It’s too close. Barba, you’re a good guy, ok. I worshipped the freakin’ ground you walked on. If you get too close, I’m gonna want somethin’ else, and that’s not OK.” Sonny was shaking.
“Sonny…stop. Just stop. I’m your friend. I’m a sarcastic, pain in the ass, blunt, malparido, but I’m your friend. That’s why I’m here. I don’t care what you might want right now, because I’m worried about what you need. Maybe you’ll hate me, I don’t know, but your boyfriend is a damn leech, and he’s sucking you dry.” Barba’s tone was firm, his face stoic, and he stood proudly in the center of the room. “I will help you with whatever you need, but you can’t go on like this, Sonny.”
Sonny dropped his head in his hands. He didn’t respond.
“Sonny,” Barba stepped closer, this time putting a hand on the man’s shoulder, “he hurt you, he manipulates you, he’s messing with your head. You are better than that.”
“Am I?” Sonny slammed his hand down on the counter, “Am I? Really? After all the digs, all the insults, you think I’m better than that? You? Mr. High and Mighty? Mr. ‘I went to Hah-vahd, you’re slumming it at Fordham’? You want to save me from myself? Like I’m some damsel in distress?” He stepped forward and turned until Barba was pinned against the counter. The darkness in his eyes was new, as he glared at the older man. “No, you want to save me for yourself. You want to be the one to save me, because you think you’re better than me. All that Ivy League education you throw in my face? The thousand dollar fuckin’ pocket squares you tuck into your shirt like they’re nothing? It’s all to show everyone you’re better than them. And it’s all to make yourself feel just a little bit better about yourself. The scholarship kid from el Barrio, who needed bigger, tougher friends to get him out of the trouble his smart mouth always got him into. You’re certainly not better than me, Rafael. And I’m not better than ‘this.’” He waved his hands around gesturing at the apartment strewn with Keith's things. He wasn't some stupid kid. He could handle this.
Barba stared at him, stunned. “They’re not a thousand dollars…” The normally verbose lawyer felt tongue tied. Sonny was back to pushing him into the counter, his jaw clenched, the heat of anger in his eyes. But there was more, and Barba decided to push back. It was a trait that, as Sonny so eloquently reminded him, often got him into trouble, but he needed to push. He found his voice again. “And I never, not ONCE, actually said I was better than you. You LOVED the banter, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m not blind, Sonny, you gave as good as you got, and enjoyed every second. Lately, everything is personal, everything is an attack, and you’re avoiding me. Is it because you’re not ALLOWED to talk to me? You’re not ALLOWED to enjoy yourself with friends?” He leaned forward until he was practically nose-to-nose with the taller detective.
“Fuck. You.” Sonny snarled. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall and shook his head, “Now get out.”
Barba knew he was right. Cursing and kicking him out meant Sonny had nothing else to counter him. Snapping was the last recourse of a desperate man. But he couldn't force anything. “Fine. I’ll go. But no more excuses, Carisi. Frankly, SVU could use a lawyer on their team. And if you keep slacking off and skipping out on overtime, it’ll be noted. If you want to advance, you can't have that in your file, Detective.”
Sonny didn't respond, just stepped away from his guest and opened the door for him.
“And I mean it when I say I can help, Sonny. Anything you need.” Barba placed his hand gently on Sonny's elbow.
Sonny pulled back as if he’d been burned. “Then just leave it be, Barba.”
Rafael stepped into the hall and frowned as Sonny slammed the door behind him. Well, that went well, he thought.
Sonny stood in his living room, torn between wanting to finish his laundry, and pulling Barba back into the apartment and telling him just how much it meant that he cared.
But Keith would be home soon. Sonny sighed and decided he’d deal with this another time.
*****
“Hey baby! I’m home!” Sonny heard Keith stumble into the room. Probably still drunk. He rolled over in bed onto his stomach and tried to pretend to be asleep, but Keith quickly flopped onto the bed. “Mmm, god I love your ass.” Keith's hand roughly slid up Sonny's leg under the covers and grabbed his ass.
Sonny shifted, pushing Keith’s hand away, “I'm sure you do, but you don't get it when you're drunk.”
Keith whined, “aww, babe, I'm not drunk. A little tipsy maybe. But I stopped drinking hours ago…” he slid under the covers and pressed his body against Sonny's. “Kiss me, babe. Come on...Don't be like that…” Keith began gently stroking his back and planting small kisses across his shoulders.
Sonny sighed and turned his head to kiss his boyfriend. Quickly, Keith deepened the kiss, rolling Sonny onto his back. “You want me to take a breathalyzer, officer?” He asked, with a grin, pressing his thigh into Sonny's growing erection.
Sonny groaned as he was pressed into the mattress. He didn't even respond, feeling Keith's fingers wrapping around his wrist.
“Shall I cuff you, officer?”
Sonny should have declined. It was never safe to do this if either of them was drunk. He should make sure Keith was sober. But he wasn't thinking. By the time logic rolled into his brain, he was on his stomach again, cuffed to the headboard with his own cuffs, and Keith was tying his left ankle to the footboard with something...A tie maybe? “Hey, babe, skip the ankles huh?”
Unfortunately, Keith was faster than Sonny anticipated. He grabbed Sonny's right ankle and secured him tightly. “Why? You like it when I'm in control. That's what I'm doing, taking control,” he growled.
And for the first time, Sonny knew it was time to use his safeword. Whatever arousal he'd experienced was gone, and he had a bad feeling. Keith had never asked for his safeword in the beginning, but Sonny had told him the first time they played. He’d thought about using it before, but never had a bad feeling like this. Keith knew how to take him right to his own edge, right up to the point where he might safeword out, but he was actually a little scared right now. “Ex parte.” He finally said.
“What was that? I can't hear you.” Keith said, a grin on his face.
“I said ex parte. I'm done. Let me up.” Sonny shook his wrists. He’d played with others before, and their response had always been immediate if he’d uttered something even close to his safe word. His heart started pounding. “I mean it, come on.”
Keith stepped back and stood next to the bed. “I thought you liked giving it all up, babe? What's the excitement in that if you have a get out of jail free card, huh?” He reached into Sonny's drawer and pulled out a balled up pair of socks. Sonny's eyes widened as he realized Keith's intentions. He turned and twisted his head, trying in vain to cry out through clenched teeth, but Keith had the upper hand. The larger man grabbed his chin and stuffed the sock into Sonny’s mouth. Before he could push it out Keith used another tie to create a makeshift gag, cinching it tight, pushing the sock deep into Sonny's mouth.
Sonny felt the panic rising in his chest. They'd never worked out a nonverbal safeword. Not that it’d matter, apparently. Keith rubbed his hands up and down Sonny's back and chuckled darkly. “Old man Chester down the hall told me you had a visitor…”
Sonny froze. He knew about Barba.
Keith roughly grasped Sonny's ass, and dipped his finger into the crease, pushing inside him without any lube. Sonny cursed into the sock and yanked his feet against the bindings, hoping some of the knots would come undone.
“You didn't let him fuck you at least,” Keith said with a grin, as he roughly fucked Sonny's ass with one finger. “What did you do, huh? Call him up for a blow job the second I left?”
Sonny tried to stay calm, tried to force the gag off his face to cry out for help.
“Oh, baby, don't be like that,” Keith yanked his finger from Sonny's ass, causing him to grunt in pain. “You know you like it rough.” Keith spit onto his hand and entered Sonny with two fingers. “That pretty little lawyer can't give you what you need. You need to be thoroughly fucked. He’s not man enough to give it to you.”
Sonny couldn't get the gag off. He decided, then, to just relax. His instincts said to fight, but he knew it would only be worse. He couldn't trust Keith to not hurt him, not anymore. As much as he wanted to vomit, he purposely relaxed his body, letting Keith take him with his barely lubricated fingers. He knew what was coming, and quickly, he guessed. Keith never prepped him much, which usually he liked, but right now he’d probably end up with more tearing if he fought. Keith had much more of an advantage than he should. Sonny dropped his head onto the mattress and cursed himself. Some fucking detective, Carisi.
“That's it baby, let me in. You're mine. You know it and you love it.” Keith, thankfully, reached over Sonny and pulled the lube from the nightstand drawer. “And you're gonna take me like the dirty slut you are.” Keith spread Sonny's cheeks painfully wide and chuckled, “god, you're aching for my cock, aren't you? I love how you twitch and jump for my touch.” Swiftly, he plunged into Sonny and set a brutal pace, ignoring the cries of anger and pain from the man below him.
Sonny was somewhat grateful for the sock between his teeth as he bit down in pain. The fucker had used lube, sure, but he hadn't given Sonny time to adjust, and he was probably already bleeding. He couldn't believe he hadn't listened to his own gut. This was a culmination of everything he'd worried about. Every time they'd played, none of it had been about Sonny. It wasn't about trust or love or letting go. It was about Keith hurting Sonny and Sonny letting him. It was a ghost of what Sonny needed, and he'd let it go on too long.
Sonny was so caught up in his own head, he barely realized Keith was getting close, until he felt his fingers wrap around his neck. The choking was not something Sonny liked, but he knew the appeal it had for Keith, and he'd let it happen before. He knew his whole body tensed in panic as he lost access to his own breath, and it made everything more intense for the man fucking him. And this time he squeezed harder… Longer… Sonny tensed and kicked as his vision blurred and started to go black. Keith let up just long enough for him to suck in a few breaths, but quickly tightened his hand again. He could easily kill Sonny. This thought sent him into a blind panic, and he threw himself around as hard as he could.
Keith just laughed. He fucked harder, grunting and panting until he came, hard and deep in Sonny's ass, then collapsed onto him. “Fuck, babe, that was great. You're like a goddamn bronco.” He fumbled in Sonny's pockets for the handcuff key and released his limp arms, not noticing the younger man was completely unconscious. “Looks like I damn sure wore you out.” He chuckled and lowered the tie to Sonny's neck, pulled out the sock from his mouth, and smacked his ass. “I'm gonna shower, then I got my game on DVR. Rest up, maybe I'll give ya round 2 later.”
Sonny opened his eyes later, noting his aches and pains, but sighing in relief that he was, in fact, alive. He heard the TV blaring, and Keith shouting, and he grabbed his phone. He contemplated making himself presentable, but he didn't want to contaminate evidence. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to ask for help.
Not just help. He needed to report this. His thumbs hovered over his messaging app, as he argued with himself. The detective part was telling him it was all fine. This could happen to anyone. It wasn't some hit to his masculinity, it wasn't his fault, nobody would think less of him. Keith needed to be brought to justice. He'd committed a crime, and he'd do it again. Everything he'd say to any victim. He was a cop, sworn to uphold the law.
But there was a smaller part of him fighting to be heard. The part that wanted this to just end. To have not happened in the first place. To just take a long, hot shower and move on. His friends didn't need to know he'd let his guard down. He'd had rougher sex before and gone to work the next day.
But Barba was his friend. He had said ‘anything’. Sonny snorted. He wondered if he knew what he was getting himself into. He typed up a text.
>>U said anything.
Barba: What happened?
>>Why do u assume something happened?
Barba: Did it?
Sonny took a breath. He didn't know what to say. He could call, but he didn't want to alert Keith. His phone vibrated again.
Barba: Sonny. Anything. I meant it.
>>He knows u were here. Didn't take no for an answer. Don't want Liv 2 know but I should be seen.
Silence. No response. Sonny let his head fall back down onto the mattress in dismay. He’d been there for so many vics. He’d interrogated so many scumbags. You'd think he’d know what to do. He didn't. He was frozen to this bed, covered in bruises, with blood and cum on his thighs. An SVU detective let himself be cuffed and raped by his own boyfriend, and was lying in his bed while the perp watched a sports game in the other room.
Barba: we’re on our way. I needed backup, I'm no cop, Sonny, so I called Amanda. You trust her. She’s got some unis coming too. Don't. Move. Nobody else needs to know, not yet. Are you safe?
Sonny’s stomach lurched into his throat. Amanda. Unis. See him like this?
>>He’s on the couch. No unis in the bedroom. I'm not decent.
Barba: We’re almost there, OK? We’ll let the unis handle Keith, you want me or Amanda with you for the ambulance?
Barba: We’re here for you.
Fuck. Sonny wasn't going to cry. No. He hadn't even untied his ankles. He inhaled deeply and used his smartphone to take photos of his own position before he leaned down and untied himself. He tried to keep from contaminating evidence as he shakily pulled on a clean pair of loose knit pants and a long sleeved T-shirt. He photographed the bed, the cuffs on the floor still flecked with dried blood from his own wrists, the tie and sock that had made up the makeshift gag. He occupied himself long enough to hear a knock at the door and a struggle.
Barba: Can we come in?
Sonny leaned against the wall and stared at his phone. He could ask for Amanda. She was good with vics. But he didn't want to see the pity in her eyes. She was like a puppy dog sometimes, and he couldn't let her see his hurt. Barba could handle it. He’d seen Barba hurt and vulnerable...turnabout was fair play.
>>You.
Sonny heard the small chime, and immediately the door opened a crack.
“It's just me,” Barba said, quieter than Sonny had ever heard him speak before. “Rollins can clear the room, but I've got EMTs for you.”
Sonny shook his head, “I’m OK. I’ll just ride with you.”
Barba stepped closer and slowly, very slowly, touched Sonny's arm. When he didn't flinch, Barba spoke again. “I came in the squad car. Full lights and sirens. So come with me in the ambulance, OK?”
Sonny snorted, “won't this affect your case, Counselor? Speaking to the victim before the investigating officers?”
Barba shook his head, “as much as I'd hate to turn the case over to anyone else, I will, if necessary. I want to be here for you.”
Sonny looked him in the eye. He was being gentle, yes, but he had a fire in his eyes he knew he wouldn't have gotten from Amanda. Barba wasn't going to let this go. He wouldn't let Sonny down. “OK. My coat is by the door.”
Barba took a few steps toward the door and paused. “I hate to ask, but have you…”
“No, I didn't shower. I'm still…” he shuddered “evidence.”
Barba’s eyes narrowed, “you're not evidence, Sonny. But you have evidence. Anything else we should know?”
“He...Cuffed me. With my own cuffs, there. And used the sock as a gag,” he pointed to the sock, still damp from his own saliva. “He tied it with that.”
Barba held back the gasp at what Keith had chosen. The tie he’d gifted Sonny. One from his own collection. He’d had multiples, and Sonny had admired it enough that he’d offered it to him. To class up his wardrobe.
“Sorry, Barba. I didn't know…” Sonny looked like he’d just realized which tie it was.
“Don't apologize, Sonny. This wasn't your fault.” Barba pulled him aside and wrapped his coat around his shoulders. He let the EMTs take him downstairs and quickly updated Rollins on the evidence left in the room.
*****
“Can't we pass it to another borough?” Sonny groaned.
Barba shook his head. “It happened in Manhattan. I can try to pass it, but it still has to go through SVU. You know that, Sonny.”
Sonny poked at the bandages on his wrist.
“The nurses won't call. They know who you are, Carisi. They're letting us call it in. When you're ready.” Rollins held her phone in her hand. “You or me, man?”
Sonny looked at her. He felt...Broken. What Keith had done wasn't any different from what he’d done other times, and there was minimal tearing and only superficial injuries. He’d claim it was consensual. He’d claim Sonny liked it rough. He’d drag Sonny's name through the mud, he’d dig out the videos they'd made, the dirty emails back and forth. “I’ll do it.” He held out his hand.
“Benson”
“Heya Lieu. I, uh...We got a situation.”
“What's up, Carisi?”
“Got a rape vic at Mt. Sinai West. Boyfriend did it, Unis have him in custody.”
“She consent to a rape kit?”
Sonny gulped. “Yeah. Uh...Lieu...Not 'she’.”
“Sorry, Detective. Statistics. Anyway, he OK for now?”
Amanda narrowed her eyes, Barba rested his hand on top of Sonny's and squeezed. “Yeah...Uh...It’s gonna be a paperwork nightmare, though. Might have to get bumped to Queens SVU. They're good, right?”
“Carisi, what aren't you telling me? I'm getting a cab now, what's going on?”
Sonny took a few breaths. He tried to tell her. He really did. Until Barba gently slid the phone from his fingers.
“It’s Carisi, Liv. Rollins and I are with him. But we gotta keep this quiet...We haven't compromised anything, I can still take the case, but I know some other ADAs I'd trust with it if necessary...I’ll let Rollins take over…” he handed the phone back to Amanda, who ducked into a corner of the small room.
Barba focused on Sonny just then. “If I'm gonna prosecute this, I can't stay with you. I'm gonna have to back off, have to seem more impartial. But I don't want to. I want to be there for you. I want you to talk to me.” He rubbed his thumb over Sonny's knuckles. “Can I send this to another prosecutor? I’ll keep tabs, I’ll advise, but let me help you. Please?”
Sonny thought about it. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a little ball and pretend he hadn't walked right into this situation. Pretend like he hadn't practically invited it. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to wallow.
But then he looked at Barba. The man whose conviction rate wasn't perfect, but only because he’d fight for anyone, no matter how risky. The man he knew he could trust to get Keith away from him. The man who would lock Keith behind bars for a very, very long time, regardless of whatever Sonny might have liked before.
He was also the man Sonny trusted more than anyone else. If he wasn't going to be alone, it was Barba he wanted by his side.
“I want you to cut him a deal.” Sonny muttered.
Barba’s jaw clenched, “what?” He almost snarled. “Have you looked at yourself? No way does he deserve a deal. He’s going away, Sonny.”
Sonny looked up at Amanda and gestured toward the door. She looked at Barba, who nodded. When they were alone, Sonny continued. “I know we’d win a court case. Whether you're prosecuting or just consulting. But he’ll drag it out. You think it’d look good for the department? We’ve got Lieu being accused of attempted murder, then murder, of the psycho who kidnapped her. Then Amaro with the anger management issues. Then you with the death threats and the corrections officer nightmare. Add a rape victim to the ranks? The media will have a field day.”
Barba shook his head, “the media has a short memory. This could happen to anyone. Your name wouldn't be the one…”
Sonny stopped him. “Yeah. To defend himself, he’d say I liked it rough. He’d bring you onto the stand to testify that you covered the bruises before, that I told you it was consensual. It’s just his word against mine that I said 'no’ this time. Offer the deal, Rafael. For me.”
Barba didn't like it. But he understood the young detective’s wishes. He nodded. “But if he doesn't take it…”
Sonny rolled his eyes, “he’s pretty stupid, but I’ll help you explain it. He’ll accept it. And if he doesn't, then we nail him to the wall.”
*****
“You don't have to do this, Carisi.” Lieutenant Benson said, patting Sonny on the shoulder.
“Yeah, Lieu, I do. He needs to know this is real, and I'm not backing down. I'm good.” He smiled at Olivia and nodded.
“OK. You know you best.” She smiled back and gestured toward the interview room where Keith and his public defender sat.
“You ready?” Barba asked.
Sonny nodded again.
Barba inhaled, straightened his tie and his pocket square (which cost $65, as he informed Sonny earlier that day; the three pieces of his suit totaled approximately a thousand dollars. He was fashionable, not overly pretentious), then swung open the door and stepped inside.
“I am prepared to offer your client a deal. Plead guilty to rape 3, and agree to registration on the sex offender registry, and I’ll recommend probation and community service.” Barba didn't pull any punches. He sat confidently and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
“Fuck off, pansy.” Keith shouted, lunging forward toward the ADA. Barba didn't flinch. “You know he liked it. He likes being fucked ‘til he can't think straight. Maybe he said 'no,’ but he didn't mean it. He’s said no before.”
Barba smiled slightly and slowly leaned forward, only inches from Keith's face. “You're admitting to multiple counts of rape then?”
Keith's lawyer grabbed his elbow and dragged him back into his seat. She whispered into his ear and he shook his head, “no, he wanted it. I could tell. No jury’s gonna believe that little bitch wasn't begging for it.”
Suddenly, the door swung open, and Carisi strode in. The old Carisi. The confident swagger, the smirk on his face, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. “Mr. Raga, I’m fairly certain this case has more than enough evidence to put you away for a very long time.” He slid copies of the photos of his own examination across the table. “A jury will see those, and me,” he smiled and gestured to his neat, professional attire, “and compare them to you, and they’ll throw you in jail. And it’ll be known that you're there for raping a man. Think about how that’ll go for ya.”
Keith started to lunge forward again, but his attorney stopped him. She pulled him close and whispered in his ear. His face shifted through several phases of anger, fear, then finally, resignation. He shrugged her off. “Fine. I’ll agree. Gimme whatever I gotta sign. Congratulations, pansy, you can have him. Sloppy seconds anyway.”
Barba and Carisi didn't react. Not until after the papers were signed, and Carisi grabbed the folder, striding out of the room. Before he left, though, Barba leaned right next to Keith's ear. “Sonny is a fucking gift you son of a bitch. If I hear you even spoke ill of him, I’ll charge you with first degree rape without batting an eye.”
Keith's attorney sputtered something about double jeopardy, but Barba pointed at the camera. “His agreement says nothing about immunity for the other rape or rapes he admitted to, not 10 minutes ago. Keep that in mind. And stay away from him. Hell, move to the Bronx. Stay out of my borough.”
*****
Getting the old Detective Dominick “call me Sonny” Carisi back hadn't been easy. He’d agreed to see Liv’s counselor, and eventually, he was 'back’ more often than not. But even months later, there were still times he wanted to curl into a ball and blame himself.
He’d started to call Barba in those moments. First, it was to help talk him down and out of the negative spiral of self-destructive thinking. Then, it was to keep him talking to avoid that spiral. Eventually, Sonny started calling Barba just because he liked talking with him. He liked seeing him.
He liked Barba. Nobody really liked Barba.
Nobody but Sonny.
Then, one day, almost 6 months after Keith had moved to the outskirts of Brooklyn with a restraining order and a fancy new probation officer, they were joking about the depth of meaning in the movie “The Warriors,” when Sonny kissed him.
It wasn't expected. Sonny hadn't planned it. Barba hadn't planned it. Sonny was adamant about some of the undertones, and Rafael was laughing and smiling more openly than Sonny had ever seen, and it was just fucking beautiful. Sonny leaned over their shared Pad Thai and pulled him into a kiss.
Rafael kissed him back. He’d make sure Sonny was treated right. For as long as Sonny would have him.