Chapter Text
Rafael Barba blinked awake slowly, reaching across the sheets, searching for warmth that wasn’t there. His hand met cool fabric. Sonny was already gone.
A sigh escaped him. It had been ages since they’d had a slow Sunday morning together, tangled in sheets, waking each other with lazy kisses, bickering over who showered first, who got stuck making breakfast. An unspoken ritual, the press of lips against sleep-warmed skin, the drowsy laughter as they pulled each other back down into the cocoon of blankets, stretching the morning as long as they could before reality demanded them apart.
He could still feel the ghost of Sonny’s kiss, a soft press against his lips before slipping away. Rafael had barely been awake, just enough to catch Sonny’s wrist, to tug at him halfheartedly. Stay. But Sonny had only laughed, kissing him again, brief, teasing, before murmuring something about duty and disappearing into the day.
Rafael stared at the ceiling, a slow smile tugging at his lips. The past three months had been a whirlwind, an unexpected shift in his carefully constructed life. Somewhere between sarcastic debates over case law and late-night dinners that bled into morning, Sonny had wedged himself into Rafael’s world with an ease that felt almost dangerous. Like a tide pulling him under.
That kiss, the first, in his office, Sonny’s fingers firm under his jaw, his mouth warm and insistent. Rafael had been mid-sentence, listing precedents for a case Sonny had been obsessing over, and then--
Oh.
The sound had slipped from his lips before he could stop it, a surprised breath against Sonny’s mouth. He hadn’t known, not really, not until that moment, how much he wanted this. Wanted him.
And now he felt lighter. Unmoored in the best way.
Carmen had caught him whistling the other day. Whistling. He was going to have to be more careful. He had a reputation to uphold after all.
Shaking his head at himself, he turned onto his side, taking in the familiar mess of Sonny’s bedroom. A Yankees cap perched haphazardly on top of a thick law textbook. A framed photo of Sonny and his sisters at some Christmas party, drunk and laughing. A pair of reading glasses, the glass constantly covered in fingerprints. The mismatched set of coffee mugs on the dresser, one definitely stolen from the DA’s office.
It had become routine, staying here. Sonny’s place was closest to the precinct, which meant Rafael could either lounge around looking for blackmail material or head out and lock up after him. He glanced at the bedside clock. Tennis with Elena. A tragic misjudgment, one he regretted every time he remembered agreeing to it. But Sonny liked the shorts enthusiastically, so least there was that.
Dragging himself out of bed, he trudged toward the bathroom, rifling through Sonny’s disastrously unorganised drawer--one that looked like it had been arranged by Jigsaw. He’d learned not to just shove his hand in after the syrup incident. It was a jungle of mismatched socks, half-unwrapped cough drops, and--was that a police commendation medal buried under a stack of crumpled hand towels? Of course it was.
Finding Sonny’s razor, he headed into the bathroom, plugged it in and promptly flinched as it roared to life at what could only be described as an attempt at skinning him alive.
"Jesus, Sonny."
He knocked the setting down on the razor, sighed in relief as it became bearable, and finished shaving before stepping into the shower.
The hot spray hit his skin, steam wrapping instantly around him, and Rafael let out a long breath, tilting his face into the stream. The water rolled down his neck, his shoulders, tracing the lines of his back, easing the last clutches of sleep from his body. He pressed his hands against the tile, head bowing forward as he let the heat work into him, muscle by muscle, loosening tension he hadn't even realised he was carrying.
His fingers found the bottle of shampoo, twisting the cap open, the scent of something almost bubblegum like filling his senses. He worked the lather into his hair, fingertips massaging slow, absentminded circles against his scalp.
"For once in my life, I have someone who needs me, someone who--" He faltered, filling in the missing lyrics with a hum before picking the melody back up. “-- do, do, wanted for so long.”
He had never been the type to sing in the shower. Hell, he had never been the type for a lot of things. And yet, here he was, standing in Sonny’s bathroom, lathered in Sonny’s ridiculously over-sweet shampoo, beneath a piranha-patterned shower curtain, singing a love song like the newly recruited loser he had apparently become.
His smile deepened, half-wistful, half-wry.
Sonny Carisi.
His ridiculous grin, that stupidly charming dimple, the way he looked at Rafael like he had somehow hung the moon on a peg after spending six days building the universe. It was obscene how deeply gone Rafael was for him.
He was going to have to accept it, wasn’t he? Accept that he had become one of those people. The kind who remembered anniversaries. The kind who thanked people when they left the elevator. The kind who, God help him, might actually take cakes in on his own birthday and all that other annoying stuff nice people do.
God, the way he was acting, you’d almost think that Rafael was in lo--
He froze.
No. No, no, no, absolutely not. That was far too soon, far too-- intense.
It wasn’t love. It was… strong affection. Deep fondness, maybe. Sure, his heart did something whenever Sonny smiled at him, and maybe he liked waking up next to him more than he cared to admit, but that didn’t mean--
He pressed a hand to his forehead.
Jesus Christ.
It was too soon. Way too soon. Sonny was easygoing, open, affectionate, of course Rafael felt something when he was around. Anyone would. But this? This wasn’t some grand, sweeping romance. This was fun. Nice fun, but fun all the same.
Wasn’t it?
His throat tightened.
God, what if he blurted it out? What if, in some vulnerable, unguarded moment, he just said it? Sonny would run. Hell, he would run, they would spring apart like opposing magnets. That was the kind of thing that changed things, ruined things. The last thing he wanted was to put something that heavy between them, to make Sonny feel like he had to say something back just to spare his feelings.
He needed to get a handle on this. Now. Before it slipped out, before Sonny heard it in his voice, saw it in his eyes.
Before Rafael admitted, really admitted, that maybe, just maybe, he was already in too deep.
He bit his lip, shaking his head as he rinsed out the shampoo before reaching for the soap. He had to stop catastrophising and get moving. If he lingered too long, he’d be tempted to let his thoughts drift further, back to the night before, to Sonny’s hands pressing him down into the mattress, the weight of his body, the slow, hot, wet press of his mouth tracing a path down his clavicle, his chest, his stomach, his--
Shit.
He needed to switch to cold, or he was never making it to that class and Elena would mark it as a win. For a judge, she never played fair outside of the courtroom. One time she threw the ball then somehow managed to gaslight Rafael into thinking his entirely reasonable protest was actually him insulting her arms for being spindly and her hands for looking round and net-like. She had even blinked up some tears. And, like an idiot, he’d apologised.
A clatter from outside.
His body stilled, breath catching in his throat.
The front door?
He paused, listening, water still running over him, heart pounding just a little too hard in his chest.
Then he exhaled, shaking his head. Seriously. He wasn’t in his own apartment. It was clearly Sonny. It had to be Sonny.
"I’m in the shower!" he called out, turning the water pressure down to hear any response. "Feel free to join me."
Silence.
Odd. He shrugged, turned the water back on to full, and rinsed his hair. When he stepped out and toweled off, he heard it again, footsteps in the bedroom.
If Sonny was home because of a bad day, Rafael stepping out stark naked probably wasn’t going to lead to the kind of distraction he was hoping for. Aw, a perp got away? That’s terrible. But have you considered… this penis? Yeah, no. He was better than that. Just.
He grabbed the nearest thing--
Sonny’s Jedi robe. It was hideous. Whoever had bought him it, clearly thought Sonny had a side gig playing power forward for the New York Knicks because it was huge. That or they low key loathed him. But it was very soft, so it had something in the pro column.
Sighing, he pulled it on and stepped into the bedroom--
And froze.
A massive bouquet of flowers stood in the centre of the room.
With massive thigh having legs.
The flowers wobbled, then shifted as a man Rafael had never seen in his life appeared from behind them.
Rafael jolted, his heart slamming against his ribs. "Jesus Christ!"
The man startled in return, eyes widening. They stared at each other.
"Who are you?!"
"Who are you?" the man shot back.
“What? No.” Rafael scowled. "No, no, I get priority here. Who are you ?”
Maybe the flowers were for Rafael, sent from Sonny. And whoever Sonny had found as a florist was clearly immune to basic social etiquette and boundaries.
"What are you doing in Sonny's apartment?"
Jesus, the guy was enormous. Maybe he was here to ask for the robe as material to sew half a sock.
“I…” Rafael blinked. “No, seriously, who are you? What are you doing here?”
The man’s gaze flickered down to the robe Rafael was wearing. His expression darkened.
“You were taking a shower?”
Something about his tone sent a shiver down Rafael’s spine. The bafflement inside him bent into something tighter, heavier.
"I’m Sonny’s… friend," Rafael said, carefully. "And I think you need to leave."
The man’s grip on the bouquet tightened, his face twisting into something stormy.
"Friend? Well I’m Sonny’s partner."
Rafael gaped. "I don’t--what?"
The man’s jaw clenched. "I have a key, don’t I?"
Rafael’s mind raced. He glanced at the door. At the flowers. Back at the man’s furious expression.
"That’s not--who even--what is happening right now?" Rafael demanded, gesturing between them.
"Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one playing dress-up in his apartment."
"Look," Rafael said, trying to steady his voice, his hands trembling at his sides, "I don’t know who you are, but you need to leave before--"
"Before what?" The man’s voice was low. "Before Sonny gets back? Maybe we should both wait here and see what he has to say."
He forced his shoulders back, standing taller. “Leave now, or I’ll call the police.”
The man’s lips crawled into a bent sneer, but he didn’t move. He only scoffed, the sound harsh and cruel, as though Rafael were no more than a fly to be swatted away.
Rafael swallowed, a cold shiver crawling up his spine. His mind scrambled to make sense of the situation, but the pieces refused to fit together. What did this man want? The growing unease in his chest gnawed at him, making it harder to focus as confusion and worry swirled within him.
“Fine,” he muttered, forcing himself to move towards the bed, his eyes darting to the side table where his phone lay charging. “Then I--”
Before he could finish the sentence, a sharp blow struck the side of his face, sending a jolt through his head. His cheek stung with a sudden heat, and he staggered back, trying to catch his balance. His fingers flew to his face, but when he looked down, his eyes widened in disbelief. He was surrounded by roses, petals scattered across the floor like crazed confetti.
The man had thrown the bouquet at him, the flowers thorns sharp against his skin.
Rafael's eyes snapped to the man, his heart hammering in his chest. Shock froze him in place. The expression on the man’s face was one of pure wrath, eyes burning with an intensity that made the hair on the back of Rafael’s neck stand on end.
Rafael’s breath hitched, his pulse racing as the crushing realisation hit him: This man meant him harm.
He moved, fast, running for the side table, towards the phone but in a blur of motion, the stranger was on him. Leaping, he cleared the bed, grabbing Rafael by the collar of the robe. The breath was knocked from him in a strangled gasp, his body yanked forward, and his head collided violently with the unforgiving wall at his side.
The impact was brutal, jarring, and for a moment, everything went black.
Dazed, Rafael’s vision swam, the room spinning around him like a carnival ride. His skull throbbed with sharp pain, his ears ringing. His breath was ragged, his mind struggling to focus as his limbs betrayed him. The floor felt like it was miles away as he tried to gather himself, to stand--
Before Rafael could even begin to push himself up, the man was upon him again.With a powerful shove, he slammed Rafael back into the wall, the surface biting into his spine as the stranger’s hand gripped tightly around his shoulder, forcing him into it with bone-shattering force. Pain splintered through Rafael’s body in waves, sharp, electric, blinding , leaving him gasping, struggling to breathe.
His heart stuttered in his chest, panic seizing him. The man’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into Rafael’s skin like claws. Fear blossomed in Rafael’s chest, spreading outward as the man’s presence loomed over him, suffocating, heavy, filling the room with an oppressive weight. His eyes widened, but his vision blurred, panic making everything spin. No, no, this couldn’t be happening.
“Wait,” Rafael gasped, trying to push himself up, but the man was already moving, a vicious, violent motion. His head was slammed into the wall a third time, the impact sending a sickening crack through his skull. He felt the sharp ache of skin splitting high on his cheekbone, and a trickle of blood began to seep down his face. The room seemed to slide, the walls closing in on him, everything spinning and reeling out of control.
The phone, his only chance at calling for help, was impossibly out of reach, a mere foot away but a world apart. His limbs felt weak, useless, and the world around him became smaller and smaller, until it was nothing but the suffocating pressure of the stranger’s body hovering over him, looming large and unrelenting.
The man gave him a sudden shake, pulling him from the haze that had started to settle over him, as if to remind him that he was still there, still in control. Then he threw Rafael backward onto the bed. The ridiculous robe Rafael had been wearing nearly flew off him in the process, leaving him exposed and disoriented, tangled in the sheets.
“You have no right,” the man spat, leaning over him, his voice a venomous hiss. “Yeah, me and Sonny were on a break, but it was just that. A break . How dare you try to make him cheat on me. You think you can just swoop in and steal him away?” His eyes, wide with mania, bore down on Rafael.
Rafael struggled to push himself up, managing to prop himself on his elbows, but the dizziness that hit him was enough to make his vision swirl. He sank back onto the bed, the sheets tangling around his legs. His breath came in short, shallow gasps, the world feeling too tight around him.
“Cheat?” Rafael’s voice cracked, the ache in his cheek pulsing with every word. He winced, trying to focus through the haze. “What are you talking about?” His confusion only deepened, but there was no clarity to be found in the man’s eyes. The words, the accusations, made no sense.
The man didn’t seem to hear him, lost in his own rambling. He ranted on, oblivious to Rafael’s confusion. “You’re a distraction,” he continued, pacing in front of him now, wild and frantic. “You don’t get it. Me and Sonny, we’re destined. He’s mine, and only mine. No one else gets to take that away from me. You’re just in the way, a little inconvenience, and I won’t let you ruin it. You won’t ruin us.”
Rafael’s mind reeled, struggling to piece together the disjointed, delusional ramblings. Destined? Sonny? The words he spoke were coated with an obsessive certainty.
Rafael’s head swam as he slowly rolled onto his side, trying to make sense of the manic words spilling from the man’s mouth. But blessedly, the stranger was facing the other way, giving Rafael a split second of clarity. His body screamed in protest, but he fought through the pain and the dizziness, slipping quietly off the bed. He had to get out. He had to get away, get help, get the police, hell, fire brigade, animal rescue, just anyone , anything, to get him away from this deranged lunatic.
His bare feet hit the floor with a dull thud, and he lurched forward, running as best he could. The apartment blurred around him, furniture, doors, walls all blending together as he bolted for the exit. His foot snagged on the oversized robe, sending him stumbling hard into the coffee table. A sharp pain shot through his foot, and he gasped, biting back a curse. No, no, no. Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the pain, forcing himself forward, dragging his injured foot behind him as he raced for the door.
His fingers reached for the handle, his skin grazing the metal just as he thought he might escape. His heart leaped with hope, but that hope was crushed in an instant when the man reappeared. Rafael’s heart dropped to his stomach as his robe was yanked back with vicious force.
Before he could even react, his head was flung violently into the door with a sickening thud. The impact blurred his vision, leaving him wavering, a new wave of nausea threatening to overtake him.
"Stop being rude!" the man yelled, his voice a crazed shriek that echoed through the apartment. "I was talking!"
Rafael’s body slumped, his limbs like dead weight as the man spun him around, eyes locked on his with a fierce, frantic glare. The dizziness that had been clouding his mind now fully overcame him, and the room began to tilt and sway. He could barely focus, the man’s face becoming a distorted blur.
Rafael’s head buzzed, his limbs becoming limp as if he were a ragdoll, the world spinning too fast for him to keep up . He dropped. Catching him, the man cradled him with an eerie tenderness, dipping him as if he were Fred Astaire and Rafael, the concussed Ginger Rogers.
He surrendered into the black.