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There is a knock at the door, and the current bane of Rafael Barba’s existence lets himself through.
“Hello, Counselor! The sarge asked me to give you this.”
There is so much to dislike about Dominick-Carisi-Jr-Call-Me-Sonny. His horrendous 70s pornstache. His oversized polyester clothes. His atrocious accent. His propensity to tell Rafael how to do his job.
Admittedly, that’s nothing that Rafael isn’t accustomed to from cops, though generally not all in the same package.
No, the reason why Rafael currently wishes he were thousands of miles away is very simple: Carisi has long long legs that don’t quit, which have long been a weakness of Rafael’s.
Even that wouldn’t be a problem if Carisi wasn’t so obviously, in-your-face, no-homo, straight. Not that Rafael has interrogated him about his sexuality, because really, there’s no need to. Rafael prides himself on a fairly good gaydar, and there is no way that Carisi is anything but the straightest of straight Catholic Italian-Americans.
Rafael pulls back from his day-dreaming and eyes Carisi and the manila folder he’s brought. He’s shaved the mustache and looks surprisingly baby-faced, but the overall effect is ruined by the pale green shirt he’s wearing that does his coloring absolutely no favors. His jacket is on his arm, but his pants are too large, so there will be no ogling opportunity when he finally leaves.
Rafael leafs through the manila folder, dismisses Carisi with a curt word, and peaks at his ass as he leaves. Thwarted by folds of polyester. He sighs.
Six months later, Rafael has slipped into a sort of resigned arousal whenever Carisi is around.
Fortunately — or unfortunately, Rafael sometimes thinks on his grumpiest days — Carisi has finally learned to dress himself. Nowadays, he wears slim pants that showcase his legs and ass perfectly, wraps himself in waistcoats that show off how slim he is, and tops it off with tailored jackets that fall perfectly from surprisingly large shoulders.
Even though he hasn’t lost his tendency to put his foot in his mouth, he has also shown that he’s capable of empathy and delicacy when dealing with victims and perps alike; and while he still insists on inflicting his legal knowledge on Rafael, at least it’s never incorrect.
Of course, he’s still straight.
He mentions exes left and right, and the attached pronoun is always ‘she’. Rafael had a passing dream of being the one to introduce him to gay sex, but honestly, deflowering young men has never been his preference, and it sounds like a lot of work for too small a reward. Not to mention he hasn’t been punched in fifteen years and he’s not angling for a replay.
It doesn’t stop Rafael from fantasizing. He strokes himself in the shower imagining what Carisi looks like without his clothes, and gets himself to completion by mentally replacing his own fingers with Carisi’s.
Right now Carisi is sitting in the chair across from Rafael’s desk, his legs splayed more than is decent — not that Rafael minds — his hands moving along with his story.
Rafael only listens with half an ear, as Carisi is talking about an ex who now lives in LA. “I asked him, informally—”
Carisi’s sudden silence is jarring. He looks up, and Carisi has gone bone white, his lips pinched and bloodless and his eyes full of fear. Rafael mentally rewinds the conversation and realizes what happened. He swallows back his ‘Halleluia’, and says, “You do realize that I would never dream of deliberately outing someone without their consent, do you?”
Carisi searches his face, then lets out a long sigh, slowly relaxing. When he talks, his voice is shaky. “Then you’re a rare breed.”
The feeling that flares up inside Rafael right now is fury, pure and righteous, about the people who have hurt Carisi in the past.
“Someone outed you,” he says without asking. “To your parents?”
“I wish,” Carisi says. He stands up and paces, full of restless energy. “My parents would have difficulties accepting it, but they love me.”
Rafael is skeptical, given that the words indicate that Carisi hasn’t actually come out to his parents yet. He’s well over thirty, there must be a good reason for that.
“No, someone told my Captain,” Carisi continues.
Okay, that might be worse. “How did that end up?”
Carisi sits down again. “I had to point out to him that blocking my application to be a detective was counterproductive, since it kept me on his team. He let me go, but news travel fast, so I was greeted with a fist to the face in my new precinct.”
Rafael sighs and tramples down on his urge to pat Carisi down for long-healed injuries. “Liv wouldn’t tolerate that kind of nonsense. Neither would the rest of your team.”
Carisi only shrugs, open skepticism on his face. Rafael is not surprised. Neither Amaro nor Rollins have managed to warm up to Carisi yet, Olivia keeps him at arms’ length, and Fin is Fin. Nobody quite knows what happens behind the affable behavior.
“I won’t tell anyone, you have my word.” He looks squarely at Carisi, who nods. “Now what were you saying about asking your ex?”
He gives Carisi his undivided attention for the rest of his visit. He’ll plot later.
The news that Carisi is into men puts a spring in Rafael’s step. Rita even comments on it when she joins him at Forlini’s one evening.
“Are you getting laid?” she asks, without so much as a by-your-leave.
Rafael splutters into his whisky and turns astonished eyes to her.
“What? No!” In the spirit of honesty, and trying to shame her by oversharing, he adds, “Not yet.”
It backfires, when she asks, “Someone I know?” She doesn’t look ashamed at all.
“None of your business.” Best shut this line of inquiry before it gets worse. Not that there’s any shutting Rita up, of course.
He spends the next ten minutes evading her questions before caving in and asking her for advice. Rafael names no names, but Rita did not get to where she is by being stupid, so she sees through him immediately.
At least she approves.
“I thought you had decided he was straight. I’d been thinking about going after him myself.”
Rafael raises his eyebrows; he wouldn’t have pegged Carisi as Rita’s type. Too old, for a start. “I was mistaken. It happens, even to me.”
“Fair enough.” After a moment, she says, “Have you tried — novel approach, I know — simply asking him out to dinner?”
“I’ve thought about it, but he’s not out to either his family or his colleagues, so he might not want to go out in public.” At Rita’s raised eyebrow, he adds, “Once bitten, twice shy. I understand some of his old precincts were… hostile.”
“Hmm. New York’s finest.” It should be illegal to put so much disdain in so few words. “Invite him for a home-cooked dinner.”
“I don’t want to frighten him.”
She rolls her eyes, annoyed. “I’m fresh out of ideas, then.”
So is Rafael, which is why the next time he’s out for drinks with the team, he lingers until everyone else has left and invites Carisi for a nightcap at his place.
Carisi comes willingly enough. Rafael can see him looking discreetly around when he enters the thankfully pristine apartment.
“Beer?” Rafael asks from the kitchen. He bought a case earlier, choosing it randomly, or so he thought. His brain must have subconsciously noticed which beer Carisi usually orders when the squad goes out for drinks, because it’s the same brand. Rafael curses; does that makes him appear too eager?
He holds up a bottle for Carisi’s appreciation. Carisi’s eyebrows raise up. “You know the brand I like?”
“Pure coincidence, I assure you,” Rafael says. It’s his story and he’s sticking to it.
He hands Sonny the bottle opener and pours himself a finger of the extremely good scotch he keeps for exceptional occasions. They reconvene to the living room, where Rafael proceeds to get comfortable, losing his jacket and tie and rolling his shirt sleeves above his elbows. The way Carisi’s eyes linger on his forearms is very gratifying.
Rafael doesn’t know what they talk about. He only knows that Carisi’s eyes light up when he’s challenged, and that he can hold his own in a spirited discussion. He knows that Carisi’s fingers curl around the collar of the bottle and absently play with a drop of condensation, stealing his breath and his mind until Rafael turns and plants a knee on the sofa and pushes Carisi in the cushions with a kiss.
He knows that Carisi welcomes him with open arms and open mouth, his knees spreading to cradle Rafael’s body. He knows that Carisi uses one hand to hide his own eyes and the other to cradle Rafael’s face when he’s being sucked off.
Later on, Carisi takes off his clothes and drops to his hands and knees in Rafael’s bed, looking coyly at him over his shoulder. It’s an invitation that Rafael can’t resist.
In the morning, Sonny is gone. The bed is cold, Rafael’s clothes are carefully laid on a chair and the sofa has been put to rights again. He managed to do all of it without waking Rafael up, too.
Rafael is not worried. Unless Sonny has gone on to the next borough, they’ll see each other again, and soon.
Indeed it doesn’t take three days before they’re once again standing side by side in the precinct. Sonny is utterly professional with him in a way he’s never been, and Rafael kinda wants to smack him upside the head. It’s neither the time nor the place for serious discussions, though, so Rafael shelves his urge and waits for the next time they’re alone together.
The opportunity arises when Sonny brings him the files for the case he’s taking on next. It’s late enough that Carmen has left for the night, which is perfect.
Sonny stands in his office, looking cool as a cucumber, as he says, “If you don’t need me, I’ll be on my way, Counselor.”
“Actually, I thought I would invite you to dinner.” Rafael walks from behind his desk.
“Oh.”
Sonny shouldn’t sound so surprised, should he? Rafael raises his eyebrows.
“It’s not… I’m not…” Sonny is stammering through an explanation, and it’s never a good sign. “I don’t really do that anymore.”
“That?”
“Dating. Men, I mean. Look, I like having sex with men, and I loved having sex with you, not gonna lie, but I’m not looking for anything here, other than a good time.”
Rafael raises a hand to stop the flow of words. “My entire world view is realigning. You’re telling me you’re a player!? I always figured you out for a white picket fence guy.”
“Well, yeah. But with a woman. Look, I’m bisexual, so I have a choice. And I want to be normal. Settle down with a woman and have kids the natural way. And I’m not getting any younger, so…”
There is a lot to unpack in that statement, and Rafael opens his mouth with the firm intention of doing so, but what comes out is, “I want to settle down with you.”
Okay, this comes out of nowhere. Rafael certainly didn’t sit down and charted his future, and even if he had it probably wouldn’t feature Carisi.
Yet. The more he thinks about it, the more right it feels, and Rafael doesn’t want to take the words back.
Sonny looks as astonished as Rafael feels. “I’m sorry,” he starts awkwardly.
“You should be,” Rafael informs him. “Do you realize how homophobic you sounded right now? You should know better. You do know better.”
Sonny’s expression shifts until he’s only showing horrified realization. “I— I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” he says, raking a hand through his hair and leaving the stiff strands spiking every which way.
“And yet you must have meant it to some degree, else you wouldn’t have said it.” Rafael takes an executive decision. “We’re having dinner together. It’s what friends do, and we’re at least that, if nothing else.”
Sonny nods meekly.
While they’re waiting for their order to arrive, Rafael leans over the table and says, his voice too low for other people to hear, “So you want to be normal?”
Sonny hides his face in his hands. His voice is muffled when he says, “I don’t think of gay couples as abnormal, honest. But…” His hands make a frustrated gesture, baring his desperate expression. “My family is rather conservative. We’re Catholics, and my parents are pretty homophobic, though more out of ignorance than malice.”
Not that it makes much of a difference in practical terms, Rafael knows from experience. “You don’t want to rock the boat.”
“I love them dearly, and I don’t want—” He’s struggling to put his feelings into words. Maybe it’s the first time he’s actually taking the time to articulate them. “I don’t want to find out how they would react,” Sonny ends up saying.
Rafael thinks he can understand that. “You don’t want to find out that they love you less, or conditionally.”
Sonny nods. They remain silent for a moment, then Sonny asks, “Do you think less of me for it?” There’s something in his voice that sounds almost, but not quite, like his usual need for validation.
“It’s not for me to judge how other people handle their coming out. God knows I don’t have a leg to stand on, there.” He shakes his head. “It’s just…” Rafael lets his sentence trail, not sure how to phrase what he’s feeling.
“Did you mean it?” Sonny asks, looking suddenly shy. “About settling down with me?”
Rafael doesn’t answer immediately. He takes his time thinking it over, until he’s sure of his answer. “Yes. Yes, I did — I do mean it.” Sonny would be a lot of work, but worth it in the end. Now he just has to convince him of the same.
“I never imagined…” He looks away, avoiding Rafael’s eyes. “Why me? You could do so much better.”
Rafael accepts his plate from the server and says, snapping his chopsticks apart, “First of all, this is patently untrue. I have a difficult temper, I’m exacting, and I work long hours. I’m also a social climber, which has made me schmooze to some unpleasant people in the past, though I have to say my patience for that has decreased exponentially as I’ve aged.”
Sonny half-smiles at the list of Rafael’s faults, but he doesn’t try to protest it. Good. He’ll need to go into this with his eyes wide open, if they do it at all.
“Second.” He takes the time to swallow before continuing. “Second, I want you. No one else. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks about that.”
Sonny is blushing and hiding his face in his noodles. It’s delightful.
“You’re out?”
“To anyone who counts, yes. My mother, Carmen, Rita, Olivia. I’m not especially in the closet to anyone else, either.”
Sonny pauses. “Rita is Rita Calhoun? I didn’t know you were friends.”
“We went to Harvard together, and constantly tied up for first place in our classes. At some point we figured out that becoming friends was better than killing each other.”
“It’s colored your relationship ever since,” Sonny comments with a smile in his voice.
Rafael lets out a chuckle. “What about you? You’re not out to your family or your colleagues. Who knows?”
“Apart from my exes? Very few people. My little sister Bella. My best friend from college. My old colleagues from Staten Island, not that I told them. That’s pretty much it, and I like it that way.”
“Do you? Censoring yourself all the time, living in fear of revealing yourself? When you accidentally told me, you were terrified.”
Sonny looks away. “It’s 2015, it’s New York City, and there are still cops who think that being gay makes you somehow less fit to be a cop. If I come out, next time I’m in a tight spot and I call for help, will someone come help me? Or will they decide it’s the perfect way to get rid of the faggot?” Sonny shakes his head. “I saw it happen. I’m not sure any man is worth placing myself in that position.”
Fair enough. Rafael has brushed elbows with enough cops to know that Sonny is right on that point. “But you don’t want to remain a cop all your life, do you? Or else you wouldn’t be spending an awful lot of money getting a law degree.”
“I don’t have my JD yet. I haven’t passed the bar, and honestly, I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a lawyer.”
“Okay, let me clear up this misconception right now.” Rafael points his chopsticks at Sonny. “I know I talk a lot of shit and I’m pretty hard on you, but whenever you’ve tried giving me legal advice, it’s always been pertinent. You can read people and you can be very persuasive. You lack experience, but you have the instinct. I have no doubt you’re going to be a good lawyer.”
Sonny looks startled, his “Oh” of surprise small and awed, and Rafael starts to think that maybe he’s been too hard on the man.
The waitress comes to clear their plates and ask if they want dessert. Rafael looks at Sonny, who shakes his head.
“I’ll bring you the bill,” she says, her accent singing the words.
When she’s far enough, Rafael turns back to Sonny. “I know you said that you didn’t know if any man was worth it.” His gesture encompasses the whole situation. “But I’d like to try.”
“Try?” Sonny sounds intrigued and doesn’t reject Rafael’s proposal out of hand, which is encouraging.
“Let me court you. Give me—” Rafael hesitates. “—six months.” Given their busy schedules, better block himself a longish period. “Six months to convince you that a relationship with me is worth any aggravation, professional and familial.” This is a tall order, and Rafael is not sure he has it in him to convince Sonny. But damn it, he wants to try. He doesn’t want to fold immediately, and spend the rest of his days wondering what if.
He snatches the bill when the waitress puts it on the table, and glares at Sonny when he reaches for his wallet.
“Is this a date?” Sonny asks. He’s smiling.
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Rafael writes in a hefty tip at the bottom of the bill and sets his credit card above it. He raises his hand to get the attention of the waitress. “Let me take you home tonight and show you.”
Sonny’s smile turns apologetic. “I’m on the morning shift tomorrow, and I don’t have a change of clothes.”
“Take me to your home, then.”
The waitress brings him the credit card machine. Her smile becomes a lot more genuine when she sees the tip he left her. Rafael waited tables when he was in Harvard; he knows how it is. He signs the receipt and gets his card back with a “Have a lovely evening, gentlemen.” Rafael hopes it turns out true.
Outside, Rafael looks at Sonny expectantly. “So, what will it be?”
Sonny is chewing his lips. Rafael waits patiently, even though it feels like the longest minutes of his life. He can see the exact moment when Sonny caves in, because his eyes fill with resolve and his lips curl up into a smile, making his dimples appear. “Yes. All right.”
“For tonight? Or for the next six months?”
Sonny’s smile becomes impossibly wider. “You’re pushing it.” He can’t even fake an admonishing tone. “Do your worst.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice. That evening, he wrings two orgasms from Sonny before coming himself. He’d have pushed for more, but he’s mindful that it’s a weekday and Sonny works early and needs his sleep.
He hears from Olivia that they caught a case and will work until late, and after sparing a thought of compassion for Sonny, texts Rita to meet him for drinks and gossip.
“I have six months to convince S— Carisi that a relationship with me would be worth the aggravation of being out to his family and colleagues,” he says without sequitur, plopping down in the seat across from hers.
It’s to Rita’s credit that she doesn’t choke on her drink. She sets it delicately on the table and asks, “What kind of romance novel did you fall into?” Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
“I think I’m in love,” Rafael answers instead. It comes out more morose than this type of declaration usually warrants.
She shakes her finger at him. “I call dibs on being godmother to your eldest. Sergeant Benson can wait for the second.”
Kids? Rafael didn’t give a thought to kids. Though Sonny wants some, he said so. Rafael takes a deep breath and tells himself to forget about kids for now as it’s a little premature.
“I’m not sure being with me is worth being out to the NYPD and to a deeply Catholic family,” he confesses.
Rita finishes her martini and asks for another, as well as whisky for him. She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head. “If you’re fishing for compliments, you’ve come to the wrong place.”
“I know, I know, you wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire.” The good thing about Rita selling her soul to the private side is that she can afford excellent whisky, and she’s not one to skip out on her friends. “But seriously, though, how do I do it?”
“Show him a good time? And I don’t just mean in bed. Take him out. Find out what he likes to do on his free time and show an interest in it.”
It’s a tall order. Rafael has no idea what Sonny is like outside of work. Though as a full-time detective and a part-time law student, there probably isn’t a lot of ‘outside of work’. He has an epiphany.
“I could help him with his studies.”
Rita toasts him with her drink. “Attaboy.”
Rafael shouldn’t be so surprised to learn that Sonny doesn’t have a lot of school left.
“I have like, this essay and a last exam to go through and then I’m free. At least until I start prepping for the Bar,” Sonny explains.
Rafael nods and pulls the computer toward him. He scrolls back to the beginning of the essay and starts reading. It’s… not bad at all, actually. It’s good, in fact. Very good. Rafael should really stop underestimating Sonny’s abilities. The essay is well researched, and the opinions he expresses are backed up with reliable sources.
“I’m available if you need help preparing for the Bar,” he says once he’s done. “But I don’t think you’ll really need me.”
Sonny’s tension eases from his shoulders. “Oh?”
“You know,” Rafael muses aloud. “If you join me in the DA’s Office, you don’t have to come out to the NYPD. Not officially, and not in a way that would considerably impact your life.”
“You think I’m good enough for the DA’s Office?”
Rafael feels a wave of remorse for putting Sonny down so much at the beginning of their acquaintance. Though that insecurity about his abilities as a lawyer is too deep-seated to be entirely Rafael’s fault. He raises his hand to caress the side of Sonny’s face. “I think you’re good enough for anything you put your mind to.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” Sonny is blushing, but he’s also smiling. He turns his head to brush a kiss into Rafael’s palm.
“There’s nothing kind about the truth,” Rafael corrects. He stands up. “While you finish your essay without my help, since you obviously don’t need it, I’ll make us food. Any preferences?”
“Edible,” Sonny says, his mouth pursed around a smile.
Rafael points a finger at him. “I’m about to blow your mind.”
The dish he prepares is not very elaborate, but it is cooked and spiced to perfection, and Rafael feels gratified when he gets noises from Sonny that he only thought he made in bed.
“Okay, consider my mind blown.” Sonny’s dimples are out in full force and Rafael finds himself automatically smiling back in response. “Now can I have dessert?” He’s eying Rafael’s crotch with no subtlety at all.
“You are so crass,” Rafael answers, but he also sits back on the sofa and spreads his legs in silent invitation. It takes no time at all for Sonny to fall down to his knees and reach for his zipper. Sonny’s hair is the perfect length for a grip, Rafael finds.
It doesn’t matter that Rafael doesn’t want to come early, because his orgasm sneaks up on him, and he finds himself cresting over the edge well before he’s ready or he has time to warn Sonny. His hand tightens in Sonny’s hair and he floods his mouth. He ends up exhausted and spent while Sonny lazily licks around his cock and kisses his way up Rafael’s chest to his mouth.
The kiss tastes of salt and spunk. Rafael can feel Sonny’s cock, hot and heavy and hard against his thigh and suddenly wants to give Sonny something he doesn’t usually relinquish to his lovers. With an effort, he pushes Sonny away and stands up, holding his pants up with one hand and pulling Sonny to him with the other.
In the bedroom, he gets rid of his clothes with no thoughts about creases, and lies down on the bed, knees pulled up to expose himself.
“Take me.”
Sonny looks like he’s been given the keys to the kingdom, which is extremely gratifying. He takes his time disrobing, never looking away from Rafael. By the time he is naked, Rafael can already feel himself stirring again.
Sonny crawls up the bed and proceeds to drive Rafael crazy. He kisses and licks about everywhere except where Rafael wants him the most. When he pushes inside, at last, Rafael feels complete in a way the act has never made him feel before.
Sonny’s appreciation for his cooking makes Rafael realize that they have one more passion in common, one he can decline into a multitude of activities to share and enjoy together, especially when Sonny’s night classes stop, and he has a lot more free time than he used to.
At least once a week, Rafael whisks Sonny away to the most hipsterish places he can find, and they spend the evening laughing at the outlandish ways people prepare and present food.
On other nights, he cooks for Sonny, first the dishes of his childhood his abuelita taught him, then a wild array of different dishes from around the world, from recipes he finds in cookbooks and on the internet.
He deems it a victory when Sonny starts cooking for him, too. The man clearly leaves Rafael in the dust in terms of skills, but it doesn’t even bother Rafael’s competitive side as he enjoys the best that Italian-American cuisine has to offer.
He especially enjoys it when Sonny invites him and puts him to work. They move and joke around Sonny’s tiny kitchen as if they’ve done it for years and Rafael can see his future stretching out before him.
Sonny patiently corrects his grip on the knife and Rafael can feel how dicing is suddenly easier, his pieces nicer and more equal-sized. He waits for Sonny’s signal before tipping them into the pan Sony is stirring constantly, and steals a kiss while Sonny’s hands are otherwise busy.
Not that Sonny minds. In private, he is affectionate and has no problem letting Rafael’s hands roam over his body.
In public, it’s another matter entirely. Even when they go to Brooklyn for dinner, a borough where he only spent two months and barely knows anyone, Sonny is fearful of any touches that might somehow imply that he is less than straight.
It’s frustrating, but Rafael understands all too well the fear of coming out, so he simply waits for Sonny to be ready.
Right now, he unties his apron and washes his hands, before setting the table in the main room. He has to shift piles of Bar review books to get enough room to set down the plates, and he smiles, knowing what they will do for the rest of the evening. Sonny doesn’t want to take the Bar before the February session, but he’s started to prepare anyway.
Sonny brings the food and dishes it out. Like everything he prepares, it smells delicious and Rafael is salivating already.
They have an unspoken agreement not to talk shop during mealtimes, so Sonny chooses the subject, a movie they watched a few days before. That one had been Rafael’s choice, though he’ll admit, a poor one. They gleefully dissect and mock the incoherence of the plot and characterization, which carries them all the way to dessert, a delightfully decadent confection of butter and sugar.
By the time Rafael is done with the washing up, Sonny is back deep into his textbooks, his lips moving soundlessly as he practices. Rafael is not sure why he wants to wait until February; he’s going to burn out at this rate.
Rafael sits down next to him, chair turned so he faces Sonny. He tugs gently at the book until Sonny releases it. “I’ll help you for the next half hour if you agree to go to bed at a reasonable hour.”
Sonny looks dismayed. “I wanted to put in at least a couple of hours of work!”
“After all the overtime you put in this week?” Rafael shakes his head. “Take it from someone who’s been in your place before. It’s often better to work less and sleep better.” To stave off the protestation he can see building in Sonny’s eyes, he adds, “Ask Rita about my ‘meltdown’.” He pauses. “Half an hour,” he tells Sonny, his tone firm.
“Oh, very well.” It’s grudging, but Rafael will take the victory.
They don’t have sex that night, too exhausted when they finally fall into bed. Rafael doesn’t mind, as long as he gets to hold Sonny close.
Cooking is not Sonny’s only hobby. While not the most athletic guy, he also follows a number of sports, casually and not so casually.
If pressed to name a sports he likes, Rafael would say baseball, if only because he has six months of Little League under his belt. He can’t say he keeps up with the sport now, but at least he knows the rules and can mostly follow a game. Of course, Sonny can’t be anything as simple as a baseball fan.
No, Sonny is a basketball fan. Played some in high school, though never well enough to entertain the idea of going pro.
Rafael knows nothing about basketball. He can name a few NBA players from the 90s, but mostly because their names were everywhere once upon a time. Sonny is a true fan, though, following the Knicks every chance he gets, and Rafael is willing to suffer a couple of hours of boredom if it makes him happy.
Not that he will tell Rita that.
Rafael wheedles a free weekend for Sonny from Olivia, on the pretense of helping him with his studies, and presents Sonny with the tickets when he arrives at his place. Sonny is all loose and long-limbered, clad in jeans and one of those long-sleeved henleys he favors on his days off. The top button is open, unveiling the divot of Sonny’s throat, and it’s all Rafael can do not to lick it.
Sonny’s reaction to the gift is suitably enthusiastic and leaves Rafael breathless and frustrated.
Later, in the queue to the concession stand, Sonny confides in Rafael, “It’s been so long since I got to see them. Good tickets are expensive, and I can’t seem to get the free time.”
“SVU is understaffed. There used to be one detective more; it makes all the difference.”
Sonny flashes him a grin. “True.” He changes the subject to the Knicks’ performance this season, which Rafael gathers is very bad.
He nods along and tries to make himself look less like a boyfriend on a date and more like a buddy on a friendly outing. Sonny still hasn’t gotten over his fears of being outed in public, but Rafael isn’t sure he succeeds. He just doesn’t have a ‘buddy’ face.
Sonny has been to Madison Square Garden before, and he directs them to their seats. Rafael tried to find well-situated tickets without mortgaging his apartment, but they’re still very far from the court. It doesn’t seem to bother Sonny who is vibrating with excitement.
The game starts, and Sonny is very enthusiastic at first. The Knicks have the ball a lot and they score quite a few points. Sonny is bouncing in his seat and squeezes Rafael’s arm when there is a particularly tense bout of action. Rafael tries to follow along and thinks that maybe he should have at least looked up the rules before coming.
He’s startled by how fast the end of the period comes. Sonny turns to him and babbles about the game, but fortunately he doesn’t seem to expect an answer from Rafael.
The second quarter starts well too, but then the Celtics keep scoring and Sonny makes a lot of disappointed noises. The Celtics finish ahead by almost ten points. It sets the tone for the rest of the game. The score remains close, but the Knicks are always trailing a few points behind, and they end up losing.
It’s not really a surprise, because they’ve had an exceptionally bad season, but Rafael wishes they’d made an effort today. Sonny smiles a little wistfully and doesn’t seem to hold the Knicks’ loss against Rafael.
“I had fun,” Sonny tells him.
“Even though they lost?” Not that he wants to rub it in.
Sonny shrugs. “They played well. The Celtics just played better. It made for a good game.”
Rafael should have realized that Sonny wouldn’t lose his agreeableness, even over sports. “Come on,” he says, bumping Sonny’s shoulder with his own. “Let’s go have a beer, and you can go back over the game with me.”
Sonny laughs brightly. Rafael wonders if he’s imagining the fondness in Sonny’s eyes.
In no time at all, half the time Rafael has allocated for both of them is gone, and it’s the end of April. Sonny’s last exam has come and gone, and his graduation is coming up. The day is marked up in Rafael’s calendar and he’s asked Carmen to keep it free.
He hesitates for a long time. Should he go to Sonny’s graduation? If he goes, should he sneak in the back and leave incognito? Chances are his whole family will be there. The safe option would be to stay home, of course, but he doesn’t want to miss it.
In the end, he asks Sonny.
Rafael is sprawled over Sonny’s body, his head over Sonny’s heart. Sonny is playing with his hair, an indulgence he allows because the shivers that course from the top of his head to the very tip of his toes are like aftershocks of his recent orgasm.
“I would like to see you graduate,” he tells him.
The fingers still in his hair, and he makes a noise of protest.
“My parents and sisters will be there. And Bella is sure to recognize you.”
Oh right. He’d forgotten about her. No chance of remaining incognito then. “I’m a colleague, and a friend, and a lawyer you admire, if I interpreted your ass-kissing correctly…” Sonny chuckles at the teasing, nearly dislodging Rafael. “It wouldn’t be inappropriate for me to be there,” Rafael finishes.
There is a moment of silence and Rafael holds his breath.
“No. No, it wouldn’t be inappropriate,” Sonny finally acknowledges.
Rafael smiles against Sonny’s skin.
On the morning of Sonny’s graduation, Rafael carefully closes the buttons on Sonny’s shirt and waistcoat, and wraps the beautiful silk tie he bought as a graduating present around his neck. It’s longer than a normal tie, the better to do the complicated trinity knot. Sonny laughs when he sees it, but he doesn’t remark on it, and kisses Rafael goodbye as he leaves.
Rafael takes his time to prepare. He’s given a lot of thought to what he’s going to wear on the day he meets his in-laws, not that they will know that. He puts on a suit, because anything more casual would be an insult to Sonny, and goes for sedate colors and patterns, only indulging in the coordinated turquoise of his suspenders, pocket square and socks.
He arrives just in time for the procession, and is instantly recognized by Bella Sullivan, who looks obviously pregnant and lovely in a flowery summer dress.
“Mr Barba. Sonny said you might show up.” She’s beaming at him, and he’s not entirely sure why.
He shakes her hand and her husband’s and avoids looking at the various Carisis gawking at him behind them. “I owed it to Detective Carisi to acknowledge his joining up our ranks,” he says with a smile.
She laughs, and proceeds to introduce him to everyone. Sonny’s parents, Dom and Tessa, his other sisters Gina and Teresa, and a wizened old lady who looks as if she was born before World War I. She’s Sonny’s grandmother, a native Brooklynite with an accent as thick as her grandson’s, if from another borough, and orders him to call her Nonna, “like everyone else.”
“Now, tell me about you,” she says. “Are you married?”
Rafael has no doubt she knows half a dozen women who’d make him the perfect wife. “Not yet, though I’m working on it.” It’s a little exaggerated, but better to paint himself as unavailable from the start. Everyone is avidly listening and trying to look as if they aren’t.
“Oooh,” she singsongs. “How is she? What does she look like?”
Let’s go for broke. “Male,” he says firmly, refusing to show shame or hesitation. “He’s tall and fair and smart and one of the kindest men I’ve ever known.” To her credit, Nonna doesn’t blink at the announcement, though Rafael can see Tessa pinching her lips a little.
Nonna pats his arm and says, “Kindness, true kindness, is rare and precious. You hang on to him, now.”
“I plan to,” he tells her earnestly.
Their conversation is cut short by the beginning of the speeches. It’s as boring and long as Rafael’s own graduation, unfortunately. Finally the names are called, and every student goes up in turn to receive his letter of congratulation. Rafael remembers the exhilaration of that moment, the culmination of long years of hope and hard work, and feels so proud of Sonny, for achieving that same dream while working a difficult and demanding job full time.
Nonna puts a hand on his arm, pulling him toward her. “He is the kindest man,” she tells him, inaudible to anyone but him under the dim of the Carisis clapping and whooping. “Don’t tell anyone else, but he’s my favorite grandchild.”
His heart stops a little when he realizes that she knows, but she seems to be approving. Rafael smiles at her. “I love him,” he says. He didn’t quite mean to get it out that plainly.
“Good,” she says quite decidedly. “He needs loving.”
“His parents…”
She pats his arm reassuringly. “Leave them to me.”
He has no doubt that with Nonna on their side, Sonny’s parents will have no choice but to fall in line.
A week later, Rita slides down in the booth across Rafael and says, “Are you single tonight? I never see you anymore.”
Rafael startles from his work and looks up. He’s not sure what to say. Apologize? He’d better, because Olivia complained about the exact same thing recently, and Rita is looking genuinely put out. “Sorry, we’ve been a little too wrapped up in each other, recently. I didn’t mean to neglect my other relationships.”
She softens. Imperceptibly to anyone else, but Rafael has been her friend for more than a quarter of a century and he knows all her tells.
“It’s not like you.” She raises her hand to catch the attention of the barman, who instantly abandons all his other customers to prepare and bring her martini. He looks at Rita as if she hung the moon and stars, and lingers for a few seconds as he hands her her drink.
Rafael watches him walk back to the bar. “Are you fucking him?”
“Gianni? Absolutely.” She toasts him before taking a sip. “I’m teaching him all the proper ways to please a woman. His future girlfriends will worship at my altar.”
“I have no doubts about that.”
“How is your romance with tall, fair and handsome going? Though if you’re still in the honeymoon phase, I assume it’s going very well.”
Rafael smiles. “It is.”
“So, when do I meet him, officially?”
Damn, Rafael should have seen that coming. “Look,” he starts, prevaricating.
She stops him with a raised hand. “Don’t bother looking for an excuse. I want to meet the promising future lawyer you’ve been mentoring. I don’t think that the Catholic Church or the NYPD would have a problem with that.”
“I’ll pass the invitation on, but it’ll be up to him,” Rafael warns her. Not that he thinks that Sonny is a match for Rita’s iron will.
Rita must consider the matter settled, because she changes the subject. “Do you remember Stanford Olivier III? One year ahead of us at Harvard, voted ‘Most likely to end up in the Supreme Court’?”
Rafael can vaguely picture him. “Didn’t you sleep with him, too?” He has no idea why she’s bringing him up now.
Rita waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, only once or twice. Disappointing in the sack, but I continued to cultivate our relationship, just in case.”
Rafael makes a vaguely interested noise.
“Anyway, he’s not on the Supreme Court, he’s not even a judge. He teaches at Fordham’s School of Law now.” Rafael looks up at that. “Ah, I knew it would interest you. Did you know that your protégé cum lover is to be the recipient of no less than two awards?”
Rafael feels his eyebrows raise. “I didn’t know that.”
“He’s also graduating Magna Cum Laude. It’s not something I say often, but I’m really impressed.”
“I didn’t know that either. I knew he was good, and I’ve read a couple of his essays, but I hadn’t realized he was this good.”
“He is. Do you think he’d be interested in a job at my firm? I’ve been authorized to quote a 150K salary.”
Rafael’s mouth falls open in shock. “You’re joking. He hasn’t even passed the Bar yet.”
Rita bites off an olive and uses the pick to point at Rafael. “Please. As if he won’t. We can wait a few months.”
“He wants to take the Bar in the winter, so it will be more than a few months. And honestly the chances of him going into private practice are…” Non-existent, Rafael estimates. But he can be wrong so he finishes, “… not very high.”
Rita rolls her eyes. “I have a job offer, I’ll pass it on. He does what he wants with it.”
A shadow falls onto their table, and Rafael looks up to see Sonny smiling at them. He can’t help his own softening face at Sonny’s unexpected presence, though he tries to tone it down for the sake of discretion. It’s not very effective, if Rita’s wide-eyed gaze is any indication.
“Well, you can ask him yourself,” he tells Rita. “You remember Detective Carisi? Detective, this is Rita Calhoun, one of my oldest friends.”
“Frenemy, more like,” she says as she gives him her hand to shake. “Do sit down, Detective.” She slides closer to the wall and pats the bench seat next to her.
“Counselor,” Sonny says graciously, though he looks at Rafael with trepidation.
“I’d like to take you out for dinner, Mr Mary Daly Scholar, and discuss your future,” she tells him as he goes red with embarrassment. “Of course, Rafael here would chaperone.”
Nice. Rafael appreciates the gesture, even if Sonny is in no state to. Though he is rallying, as he answers, “I’m not sure how my future interests you, given that I plan to remain a public servant.”
“Private practice has quite a few advantages over public service,” she tells him. She would know, as she spent fifteen years as an ADA until Holderman, Holderman and Rupert Ltd made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.
“It really depends on what criteria you’re willing to consider.”
She sits back against the wall, facing Sonny and considering him carefully. “And I suppose that earning double your current salary is not even a blip on your radar?”
“You suppose correctly,” he answers firmly.
Rita looks a little nonplussed. “I’m no longer surprised that Rafael fell in love with you.”
Sonny’s face goes red all over, and even Rafael can feel his own cheeks warm up. Rita lets out a little chuckle and waves Gianni over.
“What is your poison?” she asks Sonny.
“Ordinarily, I’d buy a beer, but I’ve got a feeling I’m about to need something stronger.”
Rita smiles brightly at him, showing her teeth. “Smart boy.”
Rita’s remark makes Rafael realize how much he’s neglected his other relationships. He takes Olivia out for a couple of drinks the following week and carefully avoids telling her he’s fucking her detective.
He makes a point to see each woman a couple of times a month after that. He also starts spending a few Sundays with his mother. This is easier, because Sonny often goes to Staten Island for Sunday mass, and he ends up single for the day anyway.
Both Rafael and his mother are frowning over a Scrabble board when Rafael’s phone starts playing the Love Boat theme. “What the fuck?” Rafael says.
“Language,” his mother chides him. “Though I agree with the sentiment.”
It’s Sonny’s name on the screen, and Rafael suddenly has a very good idea who changed his ringtone. He’ll have to strangle Rita later. He stands up and walks a few steps away before answering, turning his back to his mother.
“Barba.”
There’s a couple of seconds of silence, then Sonny says, “I came out to my parents.”
Oh dear. “Do I have to come rescue you?” Though if Sonny is in Staten Island, it’s going to be difficult.
“No, it—” Sonny sounds shaky and wet, and Rafael realizes he’s crying. The surge of protectiveness that rises inside him is surprising. “It went well. They’re not overjoyed, but they love me and they’re willing to try.”
“I’m glad,” Rafael says, mollified. Now he takes the time to consider what it means for them. Their six months are not up yet. Does it mean that Sonny wants to prolong their relationship past the deadline?
“They want to meet you,” Sonny continues.
Rafael doesn’t point out that they already met. Of course, they didn’t know at the time. Apart from Nonna. And Bella. And probably Tommy, now that Rafael thinks about it. He’s not sure he’s ready to meet them openly, but he wants to try.
“Don’t worry, I told them we weren’t quite ready yet.”
Oh. Rafael feels himself deflating like a punctured tire. This isn’t good, is it? He struggles for something to answer, and settles on a flat, “Thank you.” It sounds pretty disappointed to his own ears.
“Can I come tonight?” Sonny asks.
“Of course. You can come any night.” There’s a copy of his apartment key in the drawer of his nightstand. Maybe it’s time he gave it to Sonny, not that he means it as a reward for coming out. On the other side of the phone, someone calls out Sonny’s name, so Rafael adds, “I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”
It’s only when he hangs up that he remembers that he’s not alone. Indeed, when he turns to face the music, his mother has both eyebrows raised as high as they can go, and she’s scrutinizing him.
“I have someone,” he says, though at this point it’s unnecessary.
“I gathered,” his mother says dryly. “When can I meet him?”
“He’s not ready,” Rafael says before correcting himself, “We’re not ready. He just barely came out to his parents, and he’s still not out at work.”
His mother looks taken aback. “How old is he? How did it go?”
Rafael sits back down in front of his tiles. “He’s 36. And not too bad, considering.”
“Oh, thank God. I was afraid you’d gone for a barely legal twink. He’s only ten years younger, that’s perfectly all right.”
Rafael sighs. “Mami, seriously.” He gives a cursory look at the board and at his tiles, hoping he can change the subject to less serious concerns. Thankfully he spots a word he can align on the board, even though the point count will be a little low. “It’s my turn?” At his mother’s nod, he places the tiles on the board and announces, “G-A-T-O, triple-letter on the T, so 7 points.”
His mother dutifully adds the points to Rafael’s total, not that it does much to help him catch up with her sky-high results. He has never won against his mother and he’s not hoping to start now.
“Just tell me, would your grandmother have liked him?”
Rafael thinks about it. The kind, enthusiastic young man and his grandmother, standing at the stove as they exchange recipes, quietly making fun of Rafael’s many quirks.
“She would have loved him,” he tells her, certain of his assessment. He wishes he’d made a move earlier, that they could have met.
“Then I’m looking forward to meeting him, when you’re ready,” his mother says, and that’s that.
“What would you do if I weren’t here?”
They’re lounging lazily on Rafael’s sofa, facing each other sitting against the sofa arm and their legs mingling in the middle. Rafael is supposed to be drilling Sonny on tort law, but Sonny is massaging his feet and Rafael is fighting the urge to take an afternoon nap.
“Hmm?” Rafael can’t be expected to be coherent when Sonny presses his thumbs on his arches like that.
Sonny laughs and drops Rafael’s feet on his own chest, curling his hands around them but not touching them further. Rafael wriggles his toes in an effort to make him resume, but it seems that massage time is over.
“What do you do on weekends when you are single?”
Rafael is tempted to answer flippantly, but there is an earnest note in the question that makes him pause. “Apart from getting pulverized at Scrabble by my mother, you mean? Theater. I’d be pouring over Time Out for something to go watch tonight. The more off-Broadway the better.”
“Let’s do that, then.”
Sonny looks adorably enthusiastic as he wrings his body to reach for his MacBook on the coffee table. “What site did you say?”
“Time Out dot com.”
Sonny fiddles for a couple of minutes before announcing. “All right. I have more than fifty results. Any preferences?”
Raphael smiles. “No. Do you even like theater?”
Sonny shrugs. “I don’t know enough about theater to have an opinion one way or another. Do you like basketball?”
“I don’t care about basketball. But you do, and I love watching you all fired up.”
“There you are,” Sonny answers, as if it’s all the explanation he needs. And maybe it is.
They settle on a play in a small, modern venue where a tuxedo would be quite out of place. Not that Sonny owns one, but Rafael feels it is disrespectful to the actors to show up in jeans, or worse in shorts and flip-flops, as he’s seen more than once. Rationally he knows that the actors probably don’t care as long as there are bodies in the house, but it’s the way he was raised, he can’t help it, he explains to Sonny as he wraps a tie around his neck and knots it with practiced ease.
Sonny is watching him from the bed, wearing slacks and a shirt opened at the neck.
“The tie is needed, too? Because I’m warning you, I won’t wear one if I’m not paid to.”
The teasing comment is accompanied by a look of affection. It reminds Rafael that they are past the six-month deadline by two weeks, and Sonny has not mentioned it even once. His coming-out to his parents a few weeks before could have been a declaration of intent, but he’s made no comments one way or the other since.
Neither has Rafael, of course. On one hand, he wants Sonny to put him out of his misery and let him know his decision. On the other hand, he wants to keep Sonny for as long as he can.
Maybe this six-month thing was a mistake. Letting go of Sonny after one night would have been frustrating, sure, but Rafael would probably have gotten over it quickly enough. But now that Sonny has carved out a place in his life and in his heart, that he knows the man and that his attraction is well beyond the physical, it will probably be the worst heartbreak of his life.
Rafael takes a deep breath. “Ready?” he asks Sonny, who shrugs on his suit jacket.
“Lead on, McDuff.”
Rafael pokes his side. “Ah, so you do know more about theater than you let on.”
The play is fast-paced and darkly funny, not that Rafael could tell you what it is about, because he spends most of it watching Sonny watching the play. Sonny, as far as he can tell, is immediately suckered in, and forgets the outside world as he laughs and feels along with the characters.
When the curtain closes and the lights turn on again, they clap until their hands are hurting and remain seated to soak up the atmosphere a little longer. They are almost the last to leave the theater.
In the street, Sonny is silent, walking by Rafael’s side, much closer than usual, their shoulders bumping every other step. As they near the restaurant they booked earlier, Rafael feels Sonny’s hand wrap around his and hold. He squeezes back.
They step into the lit up space, and still Sonny keeps their fingers intertwined. Rafael is afraid to ask what it means.
As soon as their waitress leaves them alone, Sonny says, “Our six-month anniversary was two weeks ago.”
Neither the phrasing nor the hand-holding make it sound like the prelude to a break-up, but Rafael doesn’t dare hope. He nods, unable to speak.
“You didn’t say a word,” Sonny says, his hand creeping on the tabletop and covering Rafael’s. It’s like he can’t help himself.
“Neither did you.”
“I was thinking. Evaluating my own life. Coming out to my family. Trying to come out to my colleagues. I still haven’t, but I will. I kinda have to, at this point.”
“You do?” Rafael doesn’t recognize his own voice.
Sonny smiles, crooked and small, and emotion is shining in his eyes. “I’m not hiding you, and you’re in my life for the long haul, aren’t you?”
Rafael brings Sonny’s hand to his mouth and kisses the palm of it before cradling it against his cheek. “For as long as you’ll have me.”
It feels… it feels slightly unreal. Rafael is afraid that maybe he’s dreaming, and he will wake up, his bed and his life cold and lonely, and Sonny married to a beautiful woman. As soon as his hands are free, he hides them under the table and pinches the tender skin of his wrist. The pain is sharp and lingers for a few seconds, but the scene stays the same: Sonny smiling at him across the table at a restaurant.
It’s real. Rafael grins back.