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Rafael had his doubts when he had been invited to a holiday party by William Dodds. The second he had left the room after making that announcement, Baby Dodds was assuring everyone that it was optional, not mandatory, and he wasn’t going to force anyone to go. Rafael had been planning on not going, but Olivia roped him into it when she invited the squad, including him, to ease some pressure off of her sergeant’s shoulders and make schmoozing bureaucrats a bit more enjoyable.
“I thought you would want to go to a party like this so you can out-dress everyone,” she had teased.
“Not in a room full of every other Robert and Joseph in the city who despises me and hates that he can’t fit me in his pocket,” he huffed.
Olivia smirked. “Well, you’ll have some company at least.”
But now, hanging back with the squad and staying away from the bureaucrats roaming the floor and boasting of their mediocre yet hyped exploits, he wishes he had pushed. He wishes Olivia hadn’t been so convincing, or that Mike Dodds hadn’t been so pitiful, so that he could be exempt from a night like this. And he especially wishes that Sonny Carisi had worn a cashmere sweater that’s extremely chic and a dark pair of jeans that outlined his ass perfectly. It’s tight and smooth and contrasts nicely with the smooth fit of the thick-cabled sweater, woven in a creamy white.
There was no contest that Rafael was the best-looking one of the squad—the windowpane plaid pattern of the deep red blazer paired off nicely with the coral tie wrapped around his neck, the perfect suggestion of a candy cane without any physical reference to it. And even if it was a risk to go out in white pants, he always loved a good challenge. But Carisi is pushing it. With his dumb sweater and dumber jeans and his big smile that makes his eyes squint and his cheeks create two perfect dimples. It’s attractive, much too attractive that Rafael would be an idiot to ignore it.
To put it simply, Carisi looks good. And it’s taken at least three fingers of whiskey to stop his tongue from articulating his thoughts out loud.
“Did Liv say how long we were supposed to stay here?” Rollins mumbles. The table the squad had taken residence at had been swarmed with attention for the past thirty minutes. At least most of it had been praise; some of it was subtle backhanded insults. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”
“My feet are starting to hurt,” Fin says. “Why don’t they have real tables at this thing?”
“You’d think it’d be easier for them to look down at us. All these rich ass white men toting around trophy wives who are barely older than their kids?” Rollins shakes her head as she coasts around the room. “No wonder Mike wanted us here. They suck.”
“Well,” Rafael sighs, downing the last of his scotch. “You can’t spell ‘bureaucrat’ without ‘rat’.”
Rollins snorts into her glass; Fin grins, wide with amusement. “I like that,” he chuckles. “I’ll have to use that.”
“Go ahead. I don’t need it.” Rafael looks over the different faces and spots Carisi. He had been by Mike’s side for the better half of the evening, mostly as a companion through whatever conversation they had been sucked into and as a divergence when it got to be too much. Because of course he would; Sonny Carisi is just that nice. So far, it looks like neither of them had burned out from the conversations. Carisi’s ass definitely hadn’t. Fuck.
Rollins lets out a sigh and slings her purse over her shoulder. “Alright, I think it’s time to use my kid excuse. You two coming with?”
“Please,” Fin huffs and turns in the direction of the coat closet.
“How about you, Counselor?” She nods at him, pulling her phone out from her bag. “You wanna try and slip out too?”
Rafael rolls his shoulder and tries not to let his eyes wander towards Carisi. Maybe if his laugh wasn’t so noticeable, or his body wasn’t so tall, or his limbs weren’t so malleable, flopping in sync with each word he shared, he could think and find a proper excuse for why he would stay any longer at this blasted event. “I’m gonna check on Liv first. Make sure Daddy Dodds hasn’t abandoned her to brain-dead soldiers of the patriarchy.”
“If you end up cracking skulls, let me know and I’ll bail you out.” She pairs it with a wink and then heads toward the front door. She passes Dodds and Carisi as she does, their expressions changing when she reveals the reason for her sudden departure. At least their detective instincts hadn’t been tainted; they know better than to think something came up with Jessie.
Rafael isn’t sure how long it takes Carisi to look at him, but when Rollins finally leaves their side, he makes direct eye contact with him. He swallows at how clear his eyes are, even from here: just clear skies, or glittering water unharmed from human waste. And that sweater, christ, with the creamy yarn and thick cords that weave up and follow the vertical lines of his body. And that ass, trapped in dark pants and outlined prominently, practically bursting for release.
Carisi has been held at arm’s length since he arrived at SVU. Nothing more than a few flirty undertones shared between them, just enough to question their relationship, and that was it. But Rafael would be clumsy if it meant being happy with Sonny Carisi. He wouldn’t mind falling for this man.
The same man who is clearly getting closer. Fuck.
Rafael straightens up by the time Carisi stops in front of him. He can’t use alcohol to distract him, so he has no choice but to watch the detective stride over. And god, his legs are long. It only takes so many steps for him to get where he needs to be. And that, apparently, includes right where Rafael is standing.
“You scare anyone off yet?” Carisi jokes, leaning his elbows on the table the second he gets close enough.
Rafael rolls his eyes in mock-agreement. “Only the condescending ones. A few people changed courses when they saw me over here, but it’s merely coincidence that they left when I glared at them.”
Carisi snorts. “Yeah, pure coincidence.”
Rafael gestures to where he was just standing with the sergeant, who has thankfully been rescued by Liv. “How’s the schmoozing?”
The taller man shrugs and looks over his shoulder, a tiny bit of trepidation lingering in his eyes. Interesting. “Going as well as you can expect, I guess.”
“Which is?”
A wry smirk flickers on his lips for a second before it vanishes. Rafael doubts it had even been there in the first place. “Y’know, the ‘thank you’s for our service, the stories about how rough the streets used to be before men like us came along. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”
Rafael hums in lieu of a verbal response; it wasn’t far from what typically happened at these events. But he can’t help but wonder if there’s more than Carisi is letting on. There’s a crease between his brows that alludes to something more concerning. Carisi isn’t someone who keeps secrets, if only out of respect for the other person, but he doesn’t extend that same gratitude to himself. He would keep, and has kept, certain things secret to spare burdening someone the trouble of listening to his problems.
Before he can think of something to say, Carisi straightens up and looks at him. The blue of his eyes is chilling, already cold and distant. Paired with the cream of his sweater, it almost looks like a blizzard has blown through. “Did you always wanna be a lawyer, Counselor?”
Rafael pauses to think about it and shrugs. “For the most part. I think some of Alex Muñoz’s public service bug got me early on and put that idea in my head.” He watches the other man nod, tap his fingers on the tabletop, hum to signify his understanding. The fact that Carisi would only ask that one question is concerning. “Did you always wanna be one?”
Carisi toys with his sleeve, pressing the knots between his fingers. “I mean, I always knew I wanted to help other people. When I was five, it was a veterinarian, and then a surgeon when I was eight, and a teacher when I was nine. A cop was the only one that didn’t change. And then…” He shrugs, uncaring and quick, and bows his head. “Y’know, law school happened.”
“I remember.” Rafael doesn’t mean to make the words sound so soft, warm from an unrevealed urge of care and fondness, but they do. That sort of reaction has been coming from him more recently, he realizes. “It sounds like for the first time in a long time, the thing you want to be has changed.”
Carisi smiles, pained and brief. “Hit the nail right on the head.”
Rafael leans forward so that only he could hear. “Is that what you want?”
Carisi lets out a long sigh that keeps the tension in his shoulders. “I genuinely don’t know. I love being a cop—I’m good at it. It’s physically and mentally demanding, sure, but I get to see the rewards of my work when I tell a victim we caught our suspect and got a confession or, y’know, get a guilty verdict. And with a law degree on top of that, I have a better understanding of the laws I’m enforcing and how to make our cases perfect for trial. If something doesn’t work for my situation, I can think of another and more legal way to get the information I need.” When he releases another breath, the tension in his body goes with it. The weight of the words is no longer sitting on his shoulders. “But I can’t help but wonder if there’s more to me than that.”
It’s a fair concern, even if Rafael hasn’t personally felt it before, and he feels a swell of empathy in his chest. For as much shit as he may give him, Carisi is bright and smart and quick. He can adjust to situations and argue well. If he gave himself the chance, Rafael thinks he could be an outstanding prosecutor. “I think,” he finally says, choosing his words carefully so he can say as much, “that if you gave yourself the chance and did what made you happy, you could be a good lawyer.”
The snort Carisi makes is ugly, definitely a reaction that is visceral and not personal. It’s not the words themselves, or the person behind it, but the past recollections to make him react with it. Rafael could recognize a move like that a mile away. “Really?”
“If I didn’t believe it, I wouldn’t say it. And I wouldn’t have offered you that job in Brooklyn if I didn’t think you could do it.” He pitches his hand forward, slowly, in a silent offer. Carisi eyes it and doesn’t immediately go for it until Rafael reassures him, as soft as the cashmere sweater he’s wearing, “You have a brilliant mind, Carisi. If you think you would be a good lawyer, go for it. But do it for yourself. That’s the only person that matters when you make this decision.”
When it comes to Carisi’s legal knowledge, it gets more criticism and mocking than it does rewards. Rafael knows he’s guilty of it, from the “booyah” to the easy jokes of night school. But he also saw Carisi work, shadowing a case here and there or offering assistance when it looked like it was needed. It became less of an easy joke and more of an appreciation.
(Maybe a tad influenced by whatever personal feelings Rafael had gathered. The lingering touches, the stray glances, the subtle steps towards one another just to be closer. But that was entirely unrelated.)
Carisi’s smile is a bit more kind this time, reaching his eyes and paired with a quiet laugh. “I didn’t know you thought so highly of me, Counselor.”
“You know I like to keep my cards close to my chest,” he says, and adds a playful wink when he utters, “Counselor.”
Carisi gulps, his throat bobbing with the motion, and his hand suddenly reaches out to grab Rafael’s. His fingers squeeze as if to hold him in place, or maybe to keep him steady and hold back the flash of desire that appears in his eyes. “You sound a bit fond there. You going soft on me?”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he mumbles. That’s definitely the three fingers of scotch he’s had tonight, but he stands by it all the same. The intensity Carisi has hit him with is flooring, all blue eyes and slim fingers and heated touch. If he were to remove his hand, Rafael is sure the spot would stay warm for the next two hours.
It must be the very last straw, because Carisi grabs his hand and hauls him away from the table. “Well, looks like we gotta go.”
Rafael huffs and instantly steps closer. “Thank god. I thought it was just me.”
Carisi snorts and glances over his shoulder. “You really believe that?”
He squeezes his hand for emphasis. “No.”
“Good.” Carisi’s steps get a bit faster, and Rafael hopes he’s being led somewhere much better to release the pleasure building up inside him. “Me neither.”
Coats on, cheeks already red from the cold, Rafael joins Sonny in walking down the street, side by side and huddled together, laughing with each step. The speed they had retrieved their coats and stormed out of there to start walking back to Sonny’s place was impressive, at least from Rafael’s perspective. It had been a long time since he had felt so young and in love with another person. And the fact that it was Sonny, with so much history with them…
While they stop at a crosswalk, Rafael wraps an arm around Sonny’s waist and pulls him close. Sonny smiles and turns so he can hold him better, and Rafael instantly links his hands behind his back. Drunk on the mutual attraction to the taller man and buzzed from the fingers of scotch, it’s freeing to express the coil of emotions that have stirred in him since the early days of Carisi’s tenure with SVU.
“You’re like a koala,” Sonny muses softly. Rafael snorts when he runs his hands up his arms and coil his fingers into his shoulders. The tip of Sonny’s nose is tinted red, matching his ears under the dark gray beanie on his head. “Feels like I would stay so confined in your arms.”
“I’ve been told I’m a phenomenal cuddler,” Rafael teases, prodding at the small of Sonny’s back. Sonny curls back into his fingers with an amused hum. “I bet your hands are tight too.”
“Oh, for sure.” When he leans forward, brushing their noses together, Rafael smirks and licks his lips idly. “As soon as we get back to your place, I can show you just how well I can grab your dick.”
Sonny groans and leans forward to rest his chin on top of his head. If he listens closely, Rafael can hear the rapid pattering of his heart. “Shit. If it’s as talented as your hands, it might just kill me.”
Rafael squeezes his arms, just to tease, and smiles into his shoulder when he hears Sonny stifle a moan. “I would hope not. Maybe we should find a better use for my hands.”
“Hold on, now.” Sonny starts to step back, but his leg buckles and his arms reach out for stability. Rafael grabs him by the elbows and holds him up as much as he can, biting his lip to stop any reaction from coming out. At least the taller man is mostly legs and lean muscle; otherwise, he would be taking Rafael down with him.
“You alright there?” He asks.
Sonny nods and steps to the side, eyeing the chunk of ice gleaming on the concrete. “Yeah, I’m fine.” When he looks back at Rafael, he starts to laugh and hides his face in his shoulder. Rafael just holds him close, hiding his amusement with a tight embrace. “I knew I had fallen for you,” he finally sighs. “I didn’t think it’d be like this.”
Rafael shrugs and, on a sudden whim, pulls back to kiss the tip of his nose. Sonny’s cheeks instantly make the same color as the tip of his ears, so flattering and endearing that it feels like a dream to be able to hold this man. “We’re all a bit clumsy.”
Swept up in warm arms and bright laughs, Rafael holds onto Sonny and falls alongside him, assured by the promise of good company.