Chapter Text
Considering the fact that it’s a Wednesday night, Sonny’s honestly surprised at how crowded the bar is, wishing the music were loud enough to drown the constant chatter out. His annoyance quickly grows as people continually bump into his table on their way back from the bar, drunkenly letting their beer spill all over the floor. All he wanted was a quick round or two before heading up to his apartment to sleep for the next twelve hours.
Their most recent case finally wrapped up today, jury delivering their final verdict and although the guy’s gonna spend the next decade in prison, Sonny isn’t quite in a celebratory mood. These big, complicated cases are always drawn out for weeks at a time, and it just makes him tired. Atleast Benson gave him the morning off for once.
He’s about to give up and go home when some college kid (who doesn’t exactly look legal, but Sonny doesn’t really care tonight) slams hard enough into the table’s edge that it sends Sonny’s drink skidding across the surface. Luckily he catches it before his eight dollars gets dumped all over the floor, and his glare is enough to send the kid stumbling away without a word. Alright, that’s it, I’m done, Sonny thinks, raising his glass to drain it but then his eyes catch a familiar flash of color leaning against the bar.
Barba was definitely not on the list of people he expected to see tonight, but there he is, in the same suit he wore in court only a few hours ago, though he seems to have ditched the waistcoat and loosened his bright blue tie a bit. Sonny swallows the rest of his beer, tries to get the thought of how good the other man looks out of his mind. Deciding he can do with one more round, he stands and makes his way towards the bar. Barba’s grinning at the bartender and laughing at whatever the guy just said and Sonny bites down on the stupid flash of jealousy he feels. He slides onto the empty barstool and answers the bartender’s raised eyebrow with a nod, leaning forward on his elbows and relishing in the fact that he can feel Barba’s gaze on him.
“Detective,” Barba greets him after Sonny’s beer arrives, and he smiles at the amused tone.
“Counselor,” he says, turning his head and smirking at Barba as he takes a quick glance to appreciate how good he looks in the dim lighting. Sonny is growing really fond of that damn blue tie.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Barba says, taking a sip of his scotch before setting it back down, finger tracing the rim of the glass. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“You’re in my neighborhood, I could say the same to you,” he says instead of his last thought. “How about we not talk about that case, alright? I’m here to drink away my problems, not think about them.”
“I can do that,” Barba says, voice a little rougher than usual and Sonny does his best to ignore it.
A few alternating rounds later (three? four? he thinks this is beer number seven) and he’s not so much resting on the bar anymore as he is half draped across it, leaning so closely into Barba’s space that their arms rub with every stupid hand gesture Sonny makes. Which honestly happens even more than usual when he’s had a few drinks. Barba hasn’t shifted away even once, though, eyes locked on his and that stupid small smile on his lips as he listens to Sonny rattle away. He’s ditched his jacket, draped over the back of his chair and Sonny can’t help that his eyes dart down to track over the silky looking suspenders resting on his shoulders. Barba’s tie is even looser now, the top button of his white shirt undone and it’s so distracting that Sonny loses track of what he was saying.
Sonny swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat as Barba grins at the sudden silence, turning even more in his chair, thumb fucking caressing the empty glass sitting on the bar. Sonny realizes he’s still got a hand just kinda hanging out in the air between them and when he lets it fall, suddenly it’s resting on top of Barba’s thigh, and the heat that immediately radiates up into his palm is way more than he can handle right now.
“Um,” is all he can think to say and yeah, he’s not the most graceful right now apparently, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Barba shifts forward even more and suddenly there’s a hand traveling up his leg and coming to rest on his hip. His fingers involuntarily tighten on Barba’s thigh and it’s intoxicating being this close.
“How about I get this round,” Barba says and Sonny can feel hot breath against his mouth, making it so hard not to just lean forward. “And you can go wait for me outside.”
He doesn’t trust himself to find his voice right now so he nods, maybe a little too frantically because Barba laughs at him, eyes dropping to Sonny’s lips for a second before he leans back, and Sonny has to stop himself from whining when he sees Barba bite the corner of his lip. He’s so done for.