"The proper procedure for a witness to follow to challenge a subpoena on the grounds that the testimony requested is irrelevant would be…"

Rafael Barba took a sip of his bourbon and watched expectantly as Dominick "Sonny" Carisi mulled the question over. The two of them sat at a table in Forlini's bar – a favorite of the SVU squad and their ADA – with Sonny's study notes spread out around them. They had been there for coming up on two hours, lingering over dinner and drinks while Barba quizzed the detective on state law and procedure. Sonny had finished law school and was feverishly preparing to sit for the state bar exam.

It had surprised them both when Rafael offered to help him study. It was no secret that Detective Carisi often annoyed the arrogant, flashy attorney and he didn't often hesitate to hit him with a barb or backhanded comment. Carisi had hesitated briefly, likely wondering if it was some kind of joke, but accepted when Barba assured him it was an honest offer. He remembered the stress and anxiety of bar prep, and if he could help an up-and-coming attorney, he was happy to.

"The witness should submit a request to the officiating judge to have the subpoena dismissed," Carisi finally replied.

Barba shot him a withering look. "Carisi, take a breath and think," he said. "A first-year law student would get this one."

Carisi sighed and rubbed his forehead. "The witness should request that the hearing officer withdraw the subpoena, and if that is unsuccessful, then submit a hearing request to the judge."

"Yes," Barba said, taking another sip of bourbon.

Sonny groaned and dropped his head to the tabletop. "I am never going to pass this."

"You're getting in your own way," Barba retorted. "You're letting your anxiety get the better of you. You know this stuff. God knows you have quoted policy and legislation backwards and forwards enough times in my office."

"Maybe I should just stick to being a cop." Carisi picked up his own glass of bourbon and took a generous drink. "I'm not sure I can get through this exam without givin' myself an ulcer."

"You will." Rafael smiled. "And then you can survive your first year as junior ADA." He glanced around at the notes and books strewn between them. "Look, we've been at this for two hours. You're tired. I'm tired." He grinned sheepishly. "And let's be honest – between the two of us we have probably downed most of a bottle of bourbon. That's probably going a long way towards clouding your judgment."

Carisi let out a snorting laugh. "God, I hope Benson doesn't call me in for a case tonight." He grinned. "I'm not sure how useful I'd be."

They signaled for the check, and Barba picked up Sonny's tab too. "I asked you to come," he pointed out. "My treat."

Carisi blinked in surprise. "Um, thanks Barba." He fell quiet when the server collected the check and Barba's card and headed off. "You know, you don't have to do this," he said when she had walked away. "I have classmates and study groups I can work with."

"I've been where you are, Carisi," Rafael replied. "I remember how stressful it is. If I can help, I'm happy to."

"Except you had that fancy Harvard education to help you along," Sonny grumbled. "Not Fordham Law night school."

The server returned with Barba's card, and he quickly signed the slip and handed her the folder back. They collected Sonny's books and notes and headed out. "Shit," Barba said when they opened the door and took in the pounding rain. "I forgot my umbrella."

"I've got one," Carisi replied. "How far is your place?"

Rafael glanced down the street towards his building. "A couple blocks," he said. "But Carisi, you don't have to—"

Sonny held up a hand. "You bought me dinner and helped me study for the bar," he interrupted. "It's the least I can do."

Water splashed around their feet and ankles as they fell in step with one another and trudged through the soaked streets under Carisi's umbrella. "Harvard helped," Barba finally said. "But I worked my ass off to get there in the first place. The way I saw it, I needed to get out of the Bronx, and that was my chance."

"How so?"

"I was a short, brainy, mouthy, Cuban kid from Jerome Avenue," he replied. "I didn't have brawn or exceptionally good looks to get me on my way, so I had to rely on what I had. That was my mind, and I worked damned hard to use it to get myself out of there."

"I mean, don't underestimate how good you look in a suit—" Sonny began.

Rafael stopped. "Detective?"

Flushing, Carisi cleared his throat. "I'm just saying, you're better looking than you think."

Barba found himself blushing, too. He bit his lip to smother a smile. "I wasn't back then."

"And you got into Harvard," Sonny continued. "That's every attorney's dream. It wrote you a ticket to practice law wherever you wanted."

"Did it?" Barba looked up at him as they continued their walk. "I was still Latino. That alone is a huge hurdle for anyone to have to overcome in this country, even in New York."

Carisi studied him for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said, chastised.

"My point is, we both have our hurdles to overcome. You'll get there," Rafael said. "You'll pass the bar, and you'll get your license, and you'll put in your dues in the gutters at the ADA's office." He glanced up. "Tell me about Staten Island."

Carisi looked at him oddly. "Why do you want to know about Staten Island?"

His brow furrowed. "I have lived in New York my whole life, minus a few years in Boston, and I don't think I have actually ever been there."

They walked companionably, Barba listening as Sonny told stories of growing up with a loud, boisterous family in a wholly Italian Catholic neighborhood. He found himself listening more to the sound of the detective's voice than the words he was saying. Maybe it was the buzz of bourbon over his mind or maybe it was the simple comfort of companionship with another person. Whichever it was, Rafael was relaxed and comfortable when they arrived at his building.

"This is me," he said as he stepped under the awning. He turned and looked at Carisi, taking in the other man's soaked pant legs, damp hair, and dripping jacket. "You're drenched." He jerked his head towards the front door. "Why don't you come up and dry off before you head home?"

"I don't have to—" Sonny began.

"Come on," Barba replied, and grinned. "I have more bourbon upstairs."

Sonny felt a little like he had been dropped into a surreal dreamworld. He had spent an evening reviewing law notes and studying for the bar with Rafael Barba, and now he found himself in the ADA's upscale apartment drinking bourbon and sharing stories of his chaotic childhood in Staten Island. It was even more surprising that Barba seemed genuinely interested in his tales.

"That sounds fantastic," Rafael said, downing a generous sip from his glass. The two of them sat side-by-side on the sofa. Barba had shed his jacket, tie, and wet socks and shoes. Sonny had done the same, and Barba had kindly tossed his socks in the dryer. "Completely foreign, but fantastic."

"You didn't have any brothers or sisters?" Carisi asked.

Rafael snorted. "My parents barely got along long enough to have me," he replied. "It would have required an act of congress to keep them together for sufficient time to have another." He sighed and sat back. "It was just as well. That would have just given my dad someone else to knock around."

Sonny studied him. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Rafael closed his eyes and shook his head. "I think I'm a little drunk," he said. "I normally wouldn't share stuff like that." He slanted a glance up at Sonny. "It's easier to be an ass and keep people at a distance. Keep your more vulnerable thoughts and feelings to yourself."

"Are you feelin' vulnerable now, Counselor?"

He studied his glass. "Maybe." He chuckled. "I don't know what I'm feeling." And with that, he drained the rest of his tumbler. "What are you going to do when you pass the bar?"

"If I pass," he clarified, "I still plan to apply to the DA's office."

Barba turned and sat sideways, his arm on the back of the sofa and his hand resting against his flushed cheek. "You'll be good at it."

Carisi laughed. "Man, you really are drunk."

"I'm tipsy, but not full drunk," Barba clarified with a smile. "I'm just pleasantly relaxed, and my guard is down a little. And I mean it. I know I give you a hard time, but you do know your law backwards and forwards. You've been a cop – and a good one – for years. You'll do fine."

Without thinking, Carisi also turned and faced him. "Thanks," he said. "And I mean that. I've learned a lot from watching and listening to you."

He wasn't sure what it was—the alcohol buzzing in their blood, the coziness of the warm apartment after the cold rain, or their relaxed, easy conversation. Maybe a combination of all the above. But Sonny felt a slow warmth slide over him he hadn't felt in some time, and through the haze over his brain he realized Barba was studying his mouth intently. He watched the older man for a long moment to assure himself he wasn't imagining it, heart beginning to pound.

"Barba..?" His voice was soft, a question on the tail end of it.

His green eyes snapped up to meet Sonny's, filled with a mixture of question, hesitance, and just a hint of desire. He backtracked slightly. "Carisi, I'm sorry, I—"

Sonny's eyes remained fascinatedly fixed on Barba's. "No, it's okay," he assured softly, and moved closer. "Really."

He heard the sharp intake of Rafael's breath. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, trepidation welling up in those eyes.

He leaned closer. "I'm sure," he murmured, and gently captured the attorney's lips with his own.

It was soft, warm, and gentle, filling Carisi with a mixture of comfort and desire he had never quite experienced before. He felt Rafael's hesitation at first, and gently slid a hand around his waist and eased him closer. He smiled to himself when he sensed that indecision melt away and Rafael leaned into the kiss, one hand sliding up to rest against Sonny's chest. Slowly, he slid his other hand up and rested it against Barba's other side.

Abruptly, Rafael pulled back slightly. "Carisi, are you—" he took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Why are you apologizing?" Sonny chuckled. "I thought I kissed you." He kept his hands firmly around Rafael's waist.

Barba closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. "You know how I said it's easier to act like an ass and keep people at a distance than let them know how you're really feeling?"

Sonny lifted a brow and nodded. "Yeah..?"

Barba bit his lip and refused to look at Carisi. "I have wanted to do that for months."

He mulled that over. "So you have been a complete ass to avoid kissing me?" A grin began to spread over his lips.

Looking down, the older man swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have asked you if you wanted—"

"You did ask," Sonny reminded him. "And I believe I said yes." He moved one hand and cupped Rafael's chin, tenderly lifting it to get him to look up again. "Because I have wanted to kiss the sass and sarcasm off of those lips since I met you."

And to prove it, he fastened his lips to Barba's once again.

This time he was more insistent, more demanding. He felt Rafael yield and slide his arms around Sonny's neck. Carisi slid his tongue between Barba's lips and fire shot through him when he heard the soft moan of desire that hummed in his throat.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed Rafael back into the cushions of the sofa. He paused briefly and gazed down at him, one finger trailing along the attorney's cheek. "You okay?" he asked.

Rafael swallowed, eyes dark with desire. "Yes," he replied, and urgently pulled Sonny down by his collar and kissed him hungrily once again.

The rest of the night was a hazy blur heat, flesh, and tender touches. After a pleasant hour of heavy kissing and petting on the sofa, Rafael shyly invited Carisi into his bedroom. Neither of them had expected any of this, and they paused periodically to make sure both were comfortable with the sudden and unexpected turn of events. Sonny was surprised to find that as dominant and brash as he was in the courtroom, Rafael was a little shy and somewhat tender in the bedroom. In contrast, Sonny was greedy and demanding. He had spent many nights in the last few years fantasizing about taking Rafael Barba to bed, and now that he had him there it was clear he wanted to take full advantage.

He delighted in teasing and tormenting Barba to the brink, and then tipping him over the edge into absolute pleasure and ecstasy. He delighted in the soft cries and moans that escaped the usually unflappable attorney's lips, each one bringing Sonny's own desire to new heights.

And while it started as pure passion, at some point in the night Rafael had uttered one word that had completely melted Sonny's own defenses, right through to his heart. "Dominick…"

That had nearly stopped him solid. Barba had never called him by his given name, and certainly never with such a contradictory combination of intensity and tenderness.

In the early hours of the morning, both satiated and exhausted, they fell asleep with Carisi curled against Barba's back, one arm tucked around the attorney's waist.

Sonny awoke hours later to sunlight streaming around the blinds over the windows. He started to jump out of bed before he remembered it was Saturday morning, and he was not on the roll that day. He could stay in his nice warm bed for a few hours more…

And then he remembered he wasn't in his bed.

He pushed up to a sitting position and looked over to find that Rafael was still sleeping next to him. At some point he had sought out his own side of the bed in the night, now facing Sonny. He slept on his side, with one hand resting on the pillow in front of his face and the other stretched across the bed and tucked under Sonny's pillows.

Fascinated, Sonny watched him sleep. The usually well-coiffed hair had fallen over his forehead. Relaxed and vulnerable, Rafael looked far younger than his years, which Sonny estimated to be somewhere upwards of forty-five. He took in the silvering strands at his temples, the sprinkle of dark hair across the bare chest, and the dusting of a beard across his unshaved face. Flashes of the night before played through his mind as he listened to the sound of deep, even breathing and he smiled tenderly.

"Are you going to stare at me all morning, or go find some coffee?"

Carisi's smile widened to a grin. "I don't know where the coffee is."

Barba grunted. "Dammit. That means I have to get up at some point and get it myself." He rolled over onto his stomach. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon," he replied glancing at the clock.

Though his eyes remained closed, Barba raised his brows. "I couldn't tell you the last time I slept this late."

"You had quite a workout last night," Sonny his grin turning wicked.

He admitted some relief when Rafael grinned in return. "So did you." He winced and grumbled. "God, my head hurts."

"We did drink a lot of bourbon," Carisi pointed out. "Which is how we ended up in this position." He paused and reached over to run his fingers through Rafael's hair. "I didn't know you were gay." He moved his fingers down to trail up and down Barba's spine.

The older man closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh of bliss. "I'm not," he said drowsily. "…exactly. I'm bisexual." He turned his head slightly. "I guess you could say I like who I like."

The detective nodded. "Same, for the record. I just didn't get any of that from you."

He rolled over and captured Sonny's hand, resting the palm on his chest. "It's not easy for me to talk about how I'm feeling sometimes." He offered Sonny a wry smile. "When you're a brainy Cuban kid growing up in the Bronx, you have enough stacked against you without adding to it the fact that you are just as attracted to other boys as girls. Besides…" He trailed off, hesitating.

"Besides?" Sonny moved his hand and stretched out next to him.

Rafael closed his eyes, tensing slightly. "My father was not an accepting man. Talking about how I felt about anything was… discouraged. Even now, I have a difficult time sometimes expressing how I feel."

Carisi studied for a log minute. "Well, Counselor," and he had leaned over to kiss him gently. "You are always safe to tell me how you feel."

Rafael smiled. "We should go find coffee."

"Tell me where it is and I'll make it," Sonny offered.

Abruptly, Rafael sat up. "No," he said firmly. "I have tasted what you call coffee at the precinct. No, I will introduce you to café con leche." He threw back the covers and strode across the room towards the bathroom, with Sonny grinning and watching the sight of his bare backside all the way.