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Barba’s bed looked plush, as he’d expected, but the room was simpler than he’d assumed. Rafael Barba was a gallant man with excellent taste and attention to detail and was by no means a minimalist. Compared to the living room full of bookshelves and trinkets where they'd spent the last two weeks making out and teasing each other like teenagers, the bedroom felt empty, and Sonny felt like he was violating the space. He often felt like he was too much and not enough at the same time when he was around Barba, and he was worried that Barba would realize that too and oust Sonny. He didn’t want that to happen, so he stood in the threshold like a dog that had been shamed: with his tail between his legs, split between fleeing or prostrating himself to beg for unneeded forgiveness.
“Are you waiting for a formal invitation?” Barba chuckled, reaching out to him. Sonny took the hand offered to him and leaned in to kiss him rather than answer that question, because in truth, he was waiting for a distinct dismissal or worse, for Barba to look at him and admit out loud that he made a terrible mistake. Fooling around on the couch and kissing in empty break rooms was one thing, moving into the bedroom, another. It was a terrifying prospect when Sonny suspected neither of them had a name or an understanding of what flowed between them. Instead of looking for that name or heeding the red flag, Sonny tried to melt into the kissing like he usually would, embracing the warmth that flowed from Barba as he sweetened the kiss with a smile Sonny could practically taste. Barba’s hand nested at the base of Sonny’s skull, playing with the soft baby hairs and lulling him away from his worry. For a moment they were both open and vulnerable, still standing upright next to the door frame. This was safe territory. Fully dressed, kissing nearly chaste. Close enough to retreat into the fully known.
Sonny deeply inhaled the scent of Barba’s cologne. It had been applied well before Sonny had nervously knocked on the door after coming straight from work, and the time spent maturing on the hollow of Barba’s throat warmed it wonderfully. He didn’t even have to try to smell it, the deep, woodsy scent just wrapped around Sonny like an extension of Barba. Tonight, the cologne had obviously been applied heavier, and it implied more.
Which is why when Sonny still didn’t even stutter forward, Barba’s lips travelled to kiss and tease Sonny’s throat, all while tugging him forward. As Barba moved him, Sonny felt like his chest was going to burst. Maybe his heart had stopped completely, or his lungs forgot how to exhale, he didn’t know why. This impossible knot started building under his skin and Sonny frantically tried to dig his fingers into the meat of Barba’s back as he continued his ministrations, desperate for purchase. The only thing Sonny really knew in this second was that he needed to hold on, but other than the physical sensation of — oh, god — tongue and teeth worrying the skin over his pulse point as Barba’s legs butted against the edge of his king-sized bed — Sonny didn’t know what there was to hold on to. This tenuous thing between them was blooming and growing along with the blush and gentle bruises Barba was leaving in his wake. That he was always leaving on Sonny. Gasping, he threaded his fingers through Barba’s hair and pulled him away from his throat to kiss him hard. It didn’t last long before Barba pulled away to look at him.
“Is this okay?”
Sonny watched as Barba faltered for the first time this evening, looking unsure. The cologne soured as a hint of concern slid over top when he stuttered out the question. Sonny wanted to say that it was very okay, that he’d been fantasizing for a long time about what it would feel like to press into Barba’s heat and make him moan. Or that most mornings Sonny spent a decent part of his showers stroking himself to the image of a drenched Barba, shining with droplets of water he yearned to trace with his tongue, he thought about it even on the mornings his hot water was busted, since the heat coloring his face as he came was warmth enough. But instead he nodded and tried to chase after another kiss, only to be denied.
“And what about this, is this okay?” Barba’s voice was more playful when he asked this time. He was fiddling with Sonny’s one and only emerald tie, obviously asking if he could remove it and probably the subsequent garments.
“Of course, it’s an okay tie, you bought it, y’know?” The joke was bad, but true, Barba bought him that tie for Christmas last year probably as a not so subtle hint that he needed to dress better. Barba huffed out a good-natured chuckle before undoing the simple knot. As the strip of fabric slipped from around his neck, Sonny shivered and considered saying a quick prayer. He’d wanted this so badly and now he was shaking, quivering, he felt naked in a bad way, even though he was fully dressed sans the singular most uncomfortable necktie he’d ever fucking owned. It gave Barba pause.
“Hey?” his voice was quiet, “are you still here?” Barba’s hand traveled up to cup Sonny’s cheek and he instinctively melted into it. Much like his joke, it felt wrong though. Rafael Barba was not a font of patience. He had his moments, sure, but soft, yielding Barba felt wrong. Sonny was back at the doorway now, he was at the fight or flight point. He had to let go of the worry that he wasn’t good enough. And he had to get out of his head. He took a shaky exhale and played with Barba’s tie for a moment before answering.
“Am I here? It’s, uh, I’ve wanted this so long I can’t be sure it’s not a dream,” Sonny flashed a smirk and fumbled with the far fancier knot Barba had tied for himself. Sonny pulled the tie off and then ran it through his fingers a few times. It was nice, probably silk, real fancy shit, he figured. He’d never be able to afford it. It was a deep ruby threaded with silver that shimmered like finery in the low light of the bedroom. It was strange to look at a tie and assign a piece of fabric to a higher class than himself, to ascribe it as something more. He let it drop to the bedside table, not bothering to fold it like Barba had done with his. Sonny caught the eyeroll Barba shot him before leaning in to bite at and whisper in his ear.
“It’s not a dream, I promise,” Barba said before attacking the buttons of Sonny’s dress shirt.
Suddenly, his heart went from nonfunctional to pounding. It was beating faster than any time Sonny could remember, and it was all because of his deft hands traveling down his chest, removing buttons as he went. Simple undressing quickly turned into hot hands on hotter flesh as he captured one of Sonny’s nipples between his teeth before circling it with his tongue. It was like a fantasy and Sonny let himself feel everything, from the teasing fingertips at his belt to the moan reverberating through Barba as Sonny reciprocated, unbuttoning his shirt and clicking open his belt buckle.
Barba kissed him deeply while shrugging off his open shirt. Surprisingly, he let it fall to the floor before giving Sonny’s shirt the same treatment. He broke the kiss to stare at Barba’s bare chest, admiring it. He was a solid man with a wonderful dusting of dark chest hair that Sonny couldn’t help but touch. It was his first initiated move and Barba hummed approvingly as he traced his hands along his chest and stomach and sides.
“Oh, fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” Sonny breathed as he gave Barba’s chest a little squeeze before running his hands down his torso again. Barba, though he knew how handsome he was in Sonny’s eyes, preened at the compliment. He of course didn’t return it. Or at least not with words. Barba pushed Sonny’s hands away from his body with a man-eating smirk as he rested his hands low on Sonny’s hips and gave the half-naked man a slow once-over. Sonny began to blush, and it travelled from his ears and down his neck, thankfully not pinkening his chest yet, which was not as broad and solid as Barba’s. Apparently satisfied with his appraisal and approving of Sonny’s blush, Barba leaned up for another round of dirty kisses.
It was hard to resist grinding his growing hardness against Barba’s stomach, but Sonny managed, especially when Barba seemed to take such pleasure in swallowing his desperate moans and noises.
“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” Barba mumbled as he pulled back, hands moving quickly to pull Sonny’s belt from the loops, careful not to snap the leather or pull his pants down in the process. It was considerate and consent minded but when Barba had mentioned the rest of his clothes, his skin became hot and sensitive, itching to be free of the fabric.
“You’re overdressed too, yeah?” Sonny asked, thumbs hooked under the waistband of Barba’s pants with a twinkle in his eyes. Barba flashed his sharpest smirk and nodded before adjusting himself so Sonny could properly remove his pants, revealing a tight-fitting pair of boxer briefs with a telltale wet spot. Fuck. Without thinking, Sonny jumped out of his own slacks as well, brain clouded with the hotshot of confidence that was Rafael Barba, hard and dripping because of him.
“You’re always trying to do my job for me, aren’t you?” Barba chuckled as Sonny kicked his pants away. Sonny kicked himself for that, of course Barba should have been the one to undress him. Before he could deflate, Barba grabbed his ass and snapped the waistband of his boxers. “Can I at least take these off?” He asked, low and sultry. Sonny nodded.
Barba didn’t just rip off his underwear, oh no. He kissed his way down Sonny’s chest and torso before sinking to his knees as he pulled them down, letting his hands touch his stomach, his hips, his thighs — everywhere but his aching cock. God, he didn’t have moves like that. It made him feel like an inadequate or disappointing lover. Barba made his way back up, kissing a hot trail on Sonny’s body and letting his breath ghost over his cock, making it twitch. Barba was still in his underwear, which needed to be remedied, but Sonny knew he couldn’t put on a show like that. He’d taken a girl’s panties off with his teeth before, but doing that here would likely earn him a lecture about teeth marks stretching out nice underwear. Thankfully, Barba was too busy devouring him with his eyes to really notice the lull.
Sonny pushed Barba backwards and onto his bed where he fell on his back, legs still dangling over the edge. He unceremoniously pulled off Barba’s underwear and admired his cock as it sprang free and slapped against his stomach. He was big, but not obscene and his head glistened prettily. The sight made him harder as Barba shuffled back on the bed so Sonny could climb on top of him, making him gasp when the first thing Sonny did was situate their cocks and stroke them together in one hand. Who needs finesse when you can surprise, apparently.
“Fuck, Sonny,” he moaned, hips bucking. Barba craned his neck forward to watch the display, reveling in the sight and feeling. Sonny was only slightly bigger, which meant that whenever Sonny gave himself a full stroke, he gave Barba’s head a delicious squeeze. A moment later Sonny pulled back and he swore he could hear Barba whine at the movement. But he was too busy to really notice, Sonny had formulated a plan now, a way to show Barba just how good he could be, given that he’d once been called a natural born cocksucker.
Dropping down lower onto the bed, Sonny looked up at Barba, wordlessly begging for his cock, begging to make him feel good. Gently, Sonny kissed his thighs, even going so far as running his tongue along the V of his hips, all while playing around what he really wanted. Sonny sucked a hickey onto Barba’s right leg, making him tense.
“I want you in my mouth so bad,” Sonny said, reveling in how those words forced out a glorious bead of precome that shined on his pink cockhead before dripping downward. Sonny wanted it on his tongue like he wanted air. He knew the taste would be bitter, but so was Barba himself before he warmed up, and now his bitterness came across like he took his coffee, highly caffeinated and heavily sweetened. Barba moved to sit up slightly on his elbows so he could see Sonny better.
“May I?” Sonny asked, fist twisting around the shaft. The word choice shocked even himself. May I. Like he was asking a teacher if he could get up and sharpen his pencil. So formal. If he knew Spanish well enough to speak it in bed in the hopes of impressing Barba, Sonny was sure he’d accidentally use the formal words and addresses and make it weird. Perhaps Barba cut him some slack, choosing not to comment on the phrase. Instead he fell back down among the pillows with a yes, please.
Academically, he knew how to suck a dick, but his knowledge seemed to fail him. After a few more strokes, Sonny began with a few teasing licks, licking up the shiny trail of precome along his shaft. He then dragged his tongue just under the head and swirled it, something he’d always liked personally, and the move made Barba groan. It was a victory. Emboldened, he took the head into his mouth, careful to wrap his lips around his teeth.
Before long he found a rhythm and let himself start to feel the act for himself. He reveled in the drag of Barba’s cock on his tongue, the slickness of precome and his own spit dripping down his chin, the tingles of Barba’s nails on his scalp. Forgetting his control, he swallowed too much and choked, but even that was good. Barba moaned deeply and Sonny choked himself again, chasing that sound. Abruptly, Barba pulled him up by the hair to ask if he was alright, but Sonny just responded with a wet please before diving back down, itching for that feeling again. He couldn’t describe why he liked it, but it probably had something to do with how he was still trapped in a pattern of self-punishment when it came to Barba, but he couldn’t let himself focus on that now. This was his chance to prove himself, to blow Barba’s mind, literally.
Speaking of, Barba surely thought he was a whore as he laid there, desperately rutting into the bed while choking on his cock. He was going to ruin the sheets if he came like this, he thought, coming up for air and pushing his hair back from his forehead, but that didn’t stop the frantic pace set by his hips as he kept swallowing, taking it well even as Barba started to fuck his face.
“Oh, fuck, Sonny,” he groaned, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Jesus Christ,” Barba gasped that blasphemy as he shoved his cock down his throat. Sonny moved forward and held Barba’s hips in place stopping him when he went to pull back for another thrust. Sonny struggled to breathe as he kept him in his throat, tight muscles fluttering around his length trying to swallow him down, all the way down. It was a wonderful feeling and it set Sonny’s hips grinding faster against the sheets. Barba shut his eyes tight and cried out at the feeling which made Sonny surge with pride. Only when he was desperate for air, Sonny pulled back with a terribly obscene noise before jerking Barba some, his abused throat telling him to think better of repeating that move so quickly. Before he could get his mouth back on the man, Barba’s hands came up from where they were knitted in the sheets, holding onto Sonny’s shoulders.
“I’m gonna — ah!” Barba made the most beautiful noises as he came, spilling onto Sonny’s hand and chest in thick ropes. When Barba looked up at him, Sonny swiped two fingers through the mess and slowly licked them clean. It was warm, bitter, and divine as it coated his tongue. Barba moaned wantonly, hips twitching, a move that shot straight to Sonny’s ego like the highest praise. So he did it again, not breaking eye contact. He hated the taste, but still took his time lovingly wrapping his tongue around each knuckle, suckling like it was honey because it made the normally verbose man squirm and whimper underneath him, praying something profane to a God he never believed in.
When Barba went completely limp and closed his eyes as he began to catch his breath, Sonny assumed the encounter was over and he tried to stop thinking about his own abandoned orgasm. Instead, he reached for his discarded undershirt to finish cleaning off. He wondered how soon after coming down Barba would ask him to leave. When he was some semblance of clean again, his chest shone bright red from the scratch of the cheap cotton, turning it a hue that once again caught Barba’s eyes as they opened and darkened with a lust Sonny thought had disappeared with the streaks of come staining the impromptu rag.
Quickly, Barba switched their positions, lording over Sonny and licking a wet stripe up his chest, soothing the angry skin. Sonny had wanted the fire in his belly to cool while he was cleaning up, but now he was glad it hadn’t wavered in the slightest. As Barba’s tongue graced his hard, sensitive nipple, Sonny had to throw his hand over his mouth to stop himself from yelling. But his partner was having none of that, and Barba wrenched Sonny’s hand away from his mouth and shoved a thigh against his cock before repeating himself and giving his nipple a little bite, making him nearly scream.
“Bar— Rafael, oh god,” Sonny’s eyes were screwed shut as he mindlessly started grinding against Barba’s thick thigh. Not to sound ungrateful, but this turn of events was less than ideal because he could come like this, just like before when he was debasing himself on those soft, pointlessly high thread count sheets. It made him worry somewhere in the back of his mind. Would Barba make him come like this? Humiliate himself by coming from humping his leg like an overeager teenager?
In some infinite act of mercy and cruelty, he moved away from Sonny, alleviating the budding panic of yet again looking like a fool, but also depriving him of badly wanted friction. His breathing refused to steady, even as he fought to last longer. To perform better.
“What do you want?” Barba’s hands roamed his chest and sides, blunt nails dragging over frayed nerves. “Fuck, Sonny, I want to see you fall apart,”
Yes. Yes. He was close, even as his blood was saturated with something akin to fear and his own fingernails bit into his palms, he couldn’t stave off the building pleasure, and it translated in his response.
“Fuck, anything, anything, I-I can’t,” he gasped and begged, so unlike himself. Sonny was so high and lofty already that Barba could shove his cock back down his throat and Sonny would come, screaming around it. The thought made him shiver. His mind struggled to give a better answer, one the man would like instead of something just like the “pointless, nonsense” legal “help” he often gave. With the gears still turning, thinking of what he was allowed to ask for, Sonny heard the sound of Barba spitting into his own palm.
He braced for the hot, slick feeling of Barba’s hand, but instead he felt an even hotter tongue lick his balls thoroughly, reverently. Sonny cried out, an automatic instinct as he bucked into cold empty air with Barba’s teasing tongue chasing after him. Curses and breathy moans ensued as Barba continued to push him toward that edge, a sheer cliff whose drop contained pleasure and something Sonny was blind to. The imperceptible thing swam away from Sonny’s mind as Barba wrapped a tight, wet fist around his shaft and began to jerk him roughly. Sonny’s eyes still hadn’t opened as he tried to fight his own orgasm as it threatened to tear him apart thread by thread. Tears pricked at his tightly shut eyes, burning with the effort of keeping themselves contained.
“Let go,” Barba hummed, tightening and twisting his fist around the head of his cock before teasing his slit as he moved back down to fondle his balls. “Let me see, hm?”
His voice was so delicate compared to the way his fist moved without mercy, or really, compared to Barba when he wasn’t naked and post orgasm. But Sonny trusted the delicacy, he’d been called an infinitely deep well of foolish trust. He let go, letting himself spill hotly into Barba’s hand as he came with a broken sob and an elbow hiding his face as a few hot tears spilled down. He groaned and twitched as Barba kept stroking his quickly hyper sensitive dick, drinking in the choked gasps he wrung out of Sonny in the aftermath of his orgasm.
When Barba pulled away to presumably hunt for either tissues or Sonny’s undershirt, Sonny rolled onto his side and vigorously wiped his face, panting. There were maybe three tears that he wiped away, but he was self-conscious all the same, unsure of how much of that display Barba had seen. Speaking of, the man got out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom and once again Sonny felt like an alien intruder. His purpose, if he was pessimistic enough to call it that, was served. So, rather than lay paralyzed in bed he relocated his undershirt and wiped himself down again before he got up and started to dress himself. He made it halfway through pulling on his slacks before Barba re-emerged still naked and carrying a damp washcloth.
“Is this why your suits look like that?” Barba asked with a chuckle, not elaborating as he turned around to grab fresh underwear from his bureau and pull them on. Sonny reached for his discarded dress shirt and his arm felt dead, robotic. Barba eyed him strangely while he worked the shirt back on over his sweaty torso. The look made Sonny hasten in dressing, missing a button and cursing himself.
“No, seriously, you’re not going to sleep like that are you?” Barba laughed, walking over to undo the just done up buttons. He ran the warm cloth over Sonny’s vaguely sticky chest. It was strange and too intimate, Sonny figured he would wash and change once he got home, a borough away in Brooklyn. He must have said as much aloud, since Barba took a step back.
“You don’t want to stay?” He sounded soft again, and Sonny recognized the vulnerability in the question, something not too often associated with the man.
“I just, uh, I figured…” Sonny trailed off, thinking about how he thought this unnamed, ununderstood thing had implicit rules like no feelings, nothing public, and certainly no spooning. “I thought I should leave, you know, give you your space back.” Sonny waved about the room, still mostly unaffected save for his jacket on a chair, his tie on the nightstand, and his shoes somewhere near the front door. Barba blinked and furrowed his brow before settling his face into a soft look. Softness again, for the third time, Sonny was starting to get confused.
“You don’t have to go, I’d actually like for you to stay.” Barba smiled, reaching up to push some of Sonny's hair from his forehead.
“Are you serious?” Sonny blurted out without thinking. He didn’t sound soft or wonderstruck, just confused.
“Yes?” Barba answered, and the word was long, drawn out, and pitched like a question. “Why wouldn't I be?”
“We’re not, I’m not,” Sonny pointed from Barba to himself and then back again, “I didn’t think this was anything that worked like that.” He started to button his shirt again, embarrassed.
“What do you mean?” Barba sounded hurt, but Sonny didn’t catch it while he focused on hiding his own pain, his own pent up frustration and sadness over this whole affair.
“I’m not stupid, I kind of know what this is, we don’t have to, y’know, pretend it’s more.”
“Sonny, what are you talking about?” At that, Sonny stopped getting dressed and just looked at Barba, whose confusion was naked on his face. Barba moved into Sonny's space, placing a hand on his chest where his heart hammered. “What did you think this was?” He asked, and Sonny’s heart skipped. It was like being cold called in class when he didn’t know the answer. Barba would certainly laugh if he said it was like some drawn out booty call. But wasn’t it? And Barba said ‘was’ as in ‘is no longer’ so his answer didn’t matter, whatever it was, he seemingly had just ended it. Barba’s eyes drew out an answer all the same though.
“Certainly nothing special,” Sonny said flatly. Barba’s hand travelled from his chest up to his face before he grabbed Sonny and pulled him down to kiss him soundly. There was no heat, no lust, just a startling amount of gentle intimacy, which meant Sonny barely reacted, he just stood there dumbfounded. When it ended Sonny’s chest clenched almost painfully, realizing too late he had probably just lost something precious.
“It’s not...it was never,” Barba gave a heavy, loaded sigh. “Sonny, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you thought of it like that,” Sonny stood still while Barba moved to look him in the eye. His eyes were wide and clear even in the low light, and everything was written in them. Barba thought he was the one being rejected, the one who wanted more, who wanted too much of what he certainly couldn’t have. Barba ran a hand through his hair and stepped back out of his reach, turning away from him. “I understand now— “
“Hey, no,” Sonny interrupted, lurching forward to grab his arm. Sonny swallowed every negative thought he’d had that night, cleansing himself of them. “Rafael, I want it to be more, I just didn’t think it could be.”
“I don’t understand, why couldn't it be?”
“Because you’re…” those negative thoughts he’d swallowed threatened to come back up big time and Sonny wasn’t sure how to continue. He didn’t have to. Barba’s face brightened significantly and he turned back to face him.
“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t, because you’re wrong, as usual. The only thing I am is a man with feelings for you, feelings I badly want returned.” Barba was half grinning and it looked so very right, normal and comfortable. Sonny laughed and broke out into a full powered, dimpled smile.
“They are, they’re returned and then some,” he said, pulling Barba in for a kiss. It was sweet and slow and full of heart. Sonny felt lightened and he shrugged his shirt off again, the nakedness different than before and more meaningful. Barba traced the line of his spine and made him shiver and hold him tighter. When they separated this time, Sonny pressed a little hopeful kiss to his forehead. Barba’s hands once again found their way to Sonny’s waistband and he chuckled.
“Now, again, are you really going to sleep in these? Or can I interest you in some sweatpants that are six inches too short?”