Chapter Text
“Det. Carisi, will you walk me out?” Barba said the words casually enough, but Carisi still frowned at him, trying to read in his expression what he really wanted. “I had a question about some particularly illegible notes of yours from the Mercer case.”
Carisi’s frown dipped into a scowl. “My handwriting’s not that bad,” he protested, though he still obediently trailed after Barba and followed him onto the elevator. “I mean, I know when I first got started it was pretty tragic, but between school and you riding my ass, I—”
Barba cut him off by kissing him, pressing him against the wall of the elevator as soon as the doors slid closed, his hand resting possessively against the side of Carisi’s neck as he licked his way into Carisi’s mouth. Carisi moaned against Barba’s mouth, his long arms wrapping around Barba’s waist as he practically melted into the kiss, though he did pull away long enough to say, his voice breathy and a little too high-pitched, “I thought you said that we couldn’t do this in the precinct.”
“Technically, we’re not in the precinct,” Barba murmured, trailing kisses down Carisi’s neck and slowly smoothing his hands down the planes of Carisi’s chest. “Besides, you know what this suit does to me.”
Carisi’s chuckle choked into a gasp as Barba’s hands continued downward. “Yeah, if memory serves, the last time I wore this suit we almost got cited for public lewdness.”
Barba smirked against the taut skin of Carisi’s neck. “Still worth it,” he said, his smirk widening when Carisi’s hips jerked against him as he palmed him through his slacks. “Besides, I don’t hear you complaining.”
Carisi glared down at him, his eyes dark with want, but before he could say anything, before they could spring apart and even put on a somewhat-decent show of straightening their clothing, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing a bored-looking Sgt. Tutuola, whose eyes widened when he saw Carisi and Barba.
“Ah, Sergeant,” Barba said, his voice stained, and his hand dropped from Carisi’s crotch as if he had been burned. Carisi’s face was bright red, and he didn’t seem capable of speech quite yet, so Barba took it on himself to say, awkwardly, “Anyway, Detective, get me those notes when — when you can”, before making a hasty exit past Fin.
Carisi could’ve sworn Barba was smirking, just a little, and he would’ve killed him if all the blood in his body wasn’t still pooled somewhere between his legs.
Fin just cleared his throat as he stepped into the elevator and pushed the button. The silence between them was thick with awkwardness and Carisi stared determinedly at the ground, unable or unwilling to look at Fin, to see the amusement he was pretty sure was written all over Fin’s face.
As soon as the door opened once more, Carisi practically bolted from the elevator, all but jogging toward his desk in his effort to get away. Fin just sighed and shook his head. “I’ll never unsee that,” he muttered before making his way to his own desk at a far more subdued pace.