Chapter Text
They’d ended up in a distant corner booth with high sides celebrating a semi successful case and one by one the others had drifted away to their babies and beds and finally it had just been Sonny and Barba talking law school war stories over drinks. Barba’s voice had gotten lower and lower under the sting of good scotch and the strain of talking all day so Sonny had leaned in closer and closer to hear him. He’d slid an arm along the wall of the booth behind the Barba’s back and Barba hadn’t reacted to it. The beer was cold and kept coming. The room was dim, private and pleasant. He’d leaned in close, too close, and then, when Barba had finished a story and was smiling at the memory, face lit up and eyes happy, Sonny had leaned in all the way and kissed him.
Sonny wanted it on the record that there was no initial resistance. Barba didn’t even pause. Sonny kissed him and Barba (Rafael? he thought. No, still Barba) melted into the touch instantly. They met with slick lips and open mouths. Barba took a handful of Sonny’s shirt in his fist and twisted it, pulling him close and vocalizing gently against Sonny’s tongue.
“No,” Barba said breathily and then pushed Sonny away.
“Okay.” Sonny glanced at the rest of the restaurant, double checking that no one could see them huddled together in the corner. “Okay.”
“No,” Barba said, louder now, finding his voice again. “No, no, no, no.” He pulled away abruptly, sliding out of the booth, knocking over a glass as he moved.
“I’m sorry,” Sonny said, raising his voice a little as Barba crossed the room, darting into the entryway and moving out onto the street. He looked down at the crumpled circle of his shirt, then to the table. A half empty glass of red wine was steadily staining the tablecloth. Sonny picked up Barba’s phone before the liquid could touch it.
He found Barba in the street trying to hail a cab and facing the wrong way to do it. It was the wrong time of night too and the few cabs that passed them were full of drinkers and dancers, heading home after a raucous night out. Sonny remembered suddenly that it was a Friday.
“Counselor,” Sonny said. He held up the phone.
Barba looked back at him, eyes widened, then took a deep breath. He approached Sonny gingerly, took back the phone and put it in his pocket.
“I’m really sorry,” Sonny said. “That was unprofessional and…”
“I’m not mad at you, Carisi,” Barba said. He’d loosened his shirt and tie earlier in the night and now he was pulling the knot tight and redoing his top buttons.
“You’re not?”
Barba shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, okay? Just forget about it.” He’d turned down the street again, raising a hand for a car that wouldn’t come. His arm was stiff, tension in his wrists and fingers. The wind picked up and Sonny buttoned his coat shut.
“Look, you’re not going to get a cab like that. Why don’t I just walk you home?”
Barba shook his head, glancing from Sonny to the street.. “It’s really late and dark and…”
“I’ve got a gun,” Sonny reminded him.
Barba rolled his eyes but dropped his arm. “Yes, because that’s never escalated a confrontation.”
Sonny smiled. “Yeah, well we get jumped by some muggers I promise to remember all my conflict resolution training from the Academy.” He gestured right and left and then followed Barba’s nod up the street. The two fell into step together.
The sky was grey and clouded over above the buildings on either sides of them. Traffic was light and the sound of the wind was heavy in their ears. They walked for several blocks, skirting other pedestrians and the tables outside of restaurants. Sonny stayed close to Barba, but didn’t touch him, didn’t step into his personal space. He didn’t try to talk either, just let the wind play through the trees and the buildings and blow trash back and forth in the street.
Finally Barba sighed explosively. “I’m not gay.”
“That’s cool,” Sonny said. “Me neither.”
Barba snorted. Sonny had to laugh.
“Oh,” he said. “If you mean it like that then, yeah, I’m really super gay. But I’m also bisexual. Did you mean it like that? That you never, with a guy...”
“Never.”
Sonny nodded. “I get it.”
“People have always, always thought. I mean, it doesn’t matter. It’s not a bad thing. But they always thought. Even when I was kid I’d get beat up and pushed around and called a pansy. And I make it worse, I know I do. The way I dress and the way I talk but... Carisi?” Barba had stopped in the street.
“Yeah?”
“I liked it.” He looked lost.
Sonny waved him forward, gave him a reassuring smile. “Let’s keep walking.”
Compared to all the numerous fantasies he’d concocted, reality was proving to be more like high school then high romance. He’d avoided the straight boy game even in college, the am I or aren’t I identity panic proving less interesting than grabbing extra pre-law classes around his criminology requirements. It hadn’t occurred to him that Barba, solid and sexy and so in control, might have a part of himself with which he wasn’t entirely on speaking terms.
He tried to wish he hadn’t kissed Barba at all and found he couldn’t. Barba had felt good. Barba still felt good.
“I’m not sure I believe in bisexuality,” Barba muttered.
Now Sonny rolled his eyes. “It’s not bigfoot, counselor, it's just attraction. And frankly, people like me don’t give a shit if you believe in us or not.”
Barba stuck his hands into his jacket pockets and abruptly nodded his head. “You’re right,” he said flatly. “I’m just looking for arguments.”
“Yeah, you’re good at that.”
Barba laughed. The sound was bright in the darkness and Sonny smiled reflexively when he heard it.
“That’s me,” Barba said as they rounded the corner. He pointed out a tall apartment building, glass fronted and luminous. They lingered outside the door, drawing the attention of the sullen looking twenty year old who worked as night doorman. “Do you…” Barba paused, looked up at Sonny and met his eyes. They were still wide. “Did you want to come up?”
Sonny went a little dizzy at the notion. He could picture a big bed upstairs, with cool expensive sheets and Barba’s body taking up all the space underneath him. He laughed. “I really do, but it's late and you’ve been drinking. Anyway, we don’t have to rush anything. Take a day and get your head around it. Trust me.”
Barba managed to look offended and relieved at the same time. He motioned toward Sonny, as though he was going to touch him, then dropped the hand abruptly and glanced over to the doorman. “Walk me to my door at least,” he said defiantly.
Sonny nodded.
They went into the lobby and rode the elevator up to Barba’s floor. It was a nice building but not quite as nice as Sonny had expected. It was difficult for Sonny to imagine Barba deserving anything but the very best. Still there were only two locks on all the doors and the carpet in the hallways was clean. He followed Barba out of the elevator into the quiet hush of the building at night. Barba took out his keys, inserted them into a door.
“Thanks for seeing me home,” he said and then turned, leaving the keys dangling from the lock. His hands were on his thighs and he looked at Sonny with a hesitant, seeking expression.
You had to go slow with these kinds of things. Kissing him there, in a brightly lit hallway a step from his door, that was fine. Sonny considered the matter all the long bus ride home. Kissing was fine. Kissing was good. What he shouldn’t have done was kiss him the way that he did. Not like that. Not with one hand, tight and hot, wrapped around the base of Barba’s throat.