Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's properly evening when Sonny takes the One Hogan Place steps two at a time to drop off files to Barba. The sun's just a smudge on the horizon, and the baked-in heat of the summer day is radiating up from the sidewalks and radiating sideways from the buildings. Lucky is working security and buzzes Sonny in before Sonny can even knock on the doors.

"You're looking a little deflated, Detective," Lucky says.

"I'm feeling it," Sonny replies and laughs along with Lucky.

"Couldn't help but notice very few of the ADAs left the building today," Lucky says.

"You come on at four," Sonny says, his usual answer to Lucky's light teasing about how much simpler Sonny's life would be as an ADA.

"It's good to see you," Lucky replies.

"How's your niece?" Sonny asks.

They chat for a couple of minutes and part ways with a quick handshake and a shared smile. By the time Sonny steps on the elevator, the damp-scratchy feeling of his sweat against his skin has faded into the simple stickiness of being too goddamn hot for most of the day.

The elevator doesn't stop on any other floors before opening on the floor with Barba's office. And the hallway leading to Barba's office is half-dark, save the light shining out from Barba's office windows. Sonny snorts as he walks by Carmen's empty desk. He's pretty sure even if he told Barba exactly how often his office was the only extra light in the hallway when he visits, Barba still wouldn't get the hint that he needs to go the fuck home sometimes.

Sonny pauses as he reaches the edge of Barba's windows. The wooden blinds are down but they're not fully closed. Sonny dips his head so he can see between the slats. It's late, yes, but it's not so late that a defense attorney wouldn't be trying to talk Barba into a deal. Sonny knows that Barba's up against Efron right now, and if anyone is likely to be in Barba's office at this hour to argue for a deal, it's her.

Barba's sitting on his round conference table, his feet up in one of the chairs. He's out of his suit jacket, his sleeves rolled up, and his right hand is massaging himself through his slacks. His back is arched; his pecs are straining against his suspenders.

Sonny gasps at the view. His hand tightens on the manila folder he's carried over from the precinct. Barba rubs his palm slow and steady against the bulge in his slacks and strains his neck at the feeling. Sonny stares at the way the tendons in Barba's neck stick out in sharp relief. He imagines leaning in and biting them lightly. Not enough to cause pain but definitely enough to cause a flash of interest.

Barba bites his lip and opens the button of his slacks. He dips his fingertips past his waistband, then trails his hand up to snap his suspenders against his torso.

Sonny drops his free hand over his own groin and gives his dick a rough squeeze. He's hard and hot against his palm and has to fight the urge to simply rut against his own hand and come as quickly as possible. He has a brief concern that he's being an absolute creep, but then Barba unzips his slacks and pulls his dick out, and Sonny can't think of anything besides memorizing the perfect curve and thickness of Barba's dick.

Barba strokes himself slowly, heels lifting off the chair when he appears to really concentrate on dragging his palm up his dick. He bites his lip and shivers from head to toe.

Sonny keeps massaging his own dick. Even as late as it is, he knows better than to chance pulling it out. He knows the angles of all the cameras on the floor. Where he's standing now, no camera can see why he's rocking his hips forward. If anyone should review the tapes and ask, Sonny can claim he had an itch. It's been a hot day. He's sweaty. He didn't want to walk into Barba's office trying not to scratch.

Barba's mouth falls open, and though Sonny can't hear it, he is certain Barba is moaning. It makes him press a bit harder into his own hand. He feels a spurt of precum dampen the front of his underwear and grinds the heel of his palm into the wet spot because the filth of it makes him shake extra hard.

He imagines Barba touching him the way he's touching himself, dragging his hand up Sonny's dick and massaging the tip with his thumb. He imagines crowding against Barba, gripping hard at his hips as Barba jerks him off slow and heavy. Burying his face in Barba's hair and breathing in his shampoo as he bucks his hips and moans quietly in Barba's ear.

His dick throbs in his slacks, and Sonny has to bite his lip so he doesn't make a sound. Through the blinds, he watches Barba speed up his stroke and drop his free hand down to cradle his balls. He throws his head back, his mouth falling open in a gasp Sonny desperately wishes he could lick from Barba's mouth.

And then Barba's head drops, and he meets Sonny's gaze squarely through the window and the blinds.

Sonny swallows a yelp and shudders as embarrassment and shame roll through him, but he doesn't look away. He can't. Barba's staring him down, daring him to keep watching as he keeps jerking himself off. Sonny goes completely still, pressing his dick hard against the wall because he can't be subtle about his movements now.

Barba stares at him, eyes hot with knowledge of what he's doing to Sonny. He licks the corner of his mouth and rolls his hips up into his hand. He lets go of his balls and raises his hand, crooking his finger at Sonny.

Sonny groans loudly, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. He doesn't care. He trips over his feet to get to the office door. His hand is so sweaty, it slips off the knob twice before he manages to get it to turn.

"Don't slam the door," Barba says as Sonny stumbles inside.

Sonny has to steady his breathing for a moment before he can comply, closing the door decisively but without any excessive noise. He drops the file folder onto the couch without a second thought.

"Close the blinds," Barba says.

Sonny's body thrums at Barba's quiet, in-charge tone. He closes all the blinds, double-checking they're properly closed before he turns and faces Barba again.

"You like watching me, Detective," Barba says, still--still--slowly jerking himself off.

"Yeah," Sonny breathes out, taking a step forward, then pausing.

"You want to watch me come?"

Sonny nods frantically. "Yes. Yes. God. Please."

Barba smirks and lets his gaze linger on the bulge in Sonny's slacks. "Take your dick out," he says. "But don't touch yourself."

Sonny grits his teeth as he undoes his belt and opens his slacks. He hisses as he pulls his dick free from his underwear. He's so hard it hurts to touch himself. His dick is purple at the tip, and it takes everything in Sonny to drop his hand and simply stand in front of Barba with his dick out.

"Knew you'd be long," Barba says. "The girth is a nice surprise."

"You like a big dick?" Sonny asks, shaking with need but very happy to tease.

"Having a big dick doesn't mean you know how to use it," Barba replies. He rolls his hips up again, and he pauses for a moment, ass off the table, dick twitching in his hand.

"Oh, I know how to use it," Sonny says. His dick throbs, and he groans, clenching his fists.

"Tell me," Barba says.

Sonny licks his lips and shivers. He meets Barba's gaze. "I'd give it to you slow first, make sure you can actually take it. Let you get used to how much dick you're sucking. When you start getting your rhythm, I'll grab your head and make you take more. Make you work your throat around it."

"Yeah," Barba breathes. "I love a dick in my throat."

"I'd hold it there, make you feel every inch of it, and then I'd pull back and leave you begging to get to do it again."

"You'd tease me?"

"You like being teased," Sonny replies. "I can see when you like it when I tease you."

"I like it because I like to imagine shutting you up. Getting you in here and making you suck me off."

"I'll do it right now," Sonny says, eyes dropping to Barba's dick. It's deep red, and there's precum slicking it from tip to root.

"No," Barba says. "No, you wanted to watch, you get to watch."

Sonny groans and shivers from head to toe. "God, at least let me jerk myself off."

"No."

The refusal makes Sonny moan. Barba flashes him a mean grin and finally--finally--starts jerking himself off faster. His eyes flutter shut, then open again, pinning Sonny in place as he gasps and moans.

"Fuck," Sonny whispers. "Fuck. God. You look so fucking good."

Barba preens, thrusting his chest out as he keeps jerking himself off. "You look like you're about to come, Detective."

Sonny's dick throbs and twitches, and precum dribbles from the tip. "I am," he says. His voice breaks.

"Get over here so I can come on your face."

Sonny takes two steps forward and drops to his knees, tilting his head up and watching Barba's hand move faster and faster, Barba gasping and groaning, and then letting out a muted shout as the first string of jizz leaves a stripe across Sonny's nose.

Sonny closes his eyes as more come lands on his face, and he groans when Barba presses his dick against Sonny's lips and rubs back and forth as he milks the last bit of his semen onto the seam of Sonny's mouth.

A square of soft fabric drifts down onto Sonny's aching dick. It's one of Barba's handkerchiefs, he realizes. He opens his eyes slowly and looks down at it. It's red with a gold monogram. RBC.

"Come for me," Rafael says softly, all previous authority wiped from his voice. Now, he's just Sonny's husband, spent from his orgasm and their play.

Sonny balls the handkerchief up against the tip of his dick and barely thrusts against it before he comes so hard he falls forward and has to hold himself up on his free hand. Rafael slowly drops to the floor as Sonny shivers and swears and shakes. He strokes Sonny's hair and uses a second handkerchief to clean the come from Sonny's face as Sonny heaves in air and fights not to pass out.

Rafael kisses Sonny on the mouth, no doubt tasting himself on Sonny's lips. "Was it everything you hoped for?" He murmurs. "Young, hot detective finding the horny ADA in a compromising situation?"

Sonny can only nod drunkenly. Rafael's quiet laugh is pleased and warm. He presses a kiss to Sonny's cheek and nibbles lightly at his ear, obviously content to wait for Sonny to recover before suggesting either of them move.

It takes longer than usual for Sonny's breathing to regulate. When he lifts his head, he can tell from Rafael's gaze that he looks as fucked out as he feels. "Home?" he manages.

Rafael chuckles again. "You'll have to stand up first."

Sonny considers that, then drops his head back onto Rafael's shoulder. "Give me a minute."

"It's just us here. Take all the time you need."