March 2030
"Hey." Olivia shrugged off her jacket as she entered their brownstone. It was gone ten o'clock and she was exhausted. The people who told her it would be easier and less stressful being captain clearly had no idea what the job actually entailed. Thankfully, she was now scheduled for three days off which, if things went her way, she would be spending relaxing.
Rafael, who was sat on the sofa, looked up from his book. "We need to talk."
Olivia regarded her husband – he was frowning, something clearly playing on his mind. She sighed; she could see her planned relaxation time disappearing into the distance.
"What's up?" she asked, hanging her jacket on the rack by the door.
"I got home early – the defence requested a recess – and when I came in I found Noah in his room with Jesse. They were making out pretty heavily."
She flopped down next to him on the sofa. "Well, they are dating, Rafa."
"His hand was under her shirt, Liv!"
Olivia barely managed to hold in her eye roll. "They're teenagers, Rafa."
She wasn't particularly concerned. Noah had been brought up in an environment where consent was always a topic of conversation and she was confident her son – despite being a teenager – understood the importance of getting and maintaining consent.
"Exactly!" At Olivia's raised eyebrow, he continued. "You aren't telling me that you were completely innocent at their ages?"
"You know I wasn't." She's told him about the relationship she'd had with one of her mother's students and the fallout of his proposal.
"No. Neither was I."
Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Lauren Sullivan?"
Barba smirked. "I just think it's time we sat down and had a talk with him."
"Didn't we do that a few years ago?"
"I think you'll find I did," Rafael replied, with just a hint of smugness, remembering when he spoke to him about the facts of life.
When Noah had turned twelve, his school had sent home a notice that the children would be getting a talk in health class, but from reading the letter and talking to Noah's teacher, Olivia didn't think the talk would be detailed enough. The school's plan was to separate the boys and girls and, while the girls would be told about menstruation and pregnancy, the boys would only be told about the changes to their own bodies, nothing about the girls at all.
insisted that Rafael sit their son down and to have a more in-depth, factual conversation. Her husband had protested at first; claiming he wouldn't know what to say and that it would be better coming from her. It was only when Olivia asked how he'd feel if his mother tried to talk to him about sex, that he relented, wanting to save Noah from as much embarrassment as possible.
He just about managed to get over his initial discomfort and find the words to start the conversation – who knew it would be so different to talking about sex as part of his job – and make the boy aware of the biology. But now a different conversation was needed.
"This is different, Liv. He's older. With a girlfriend. Who happens to be the daughter of our friends," he reminded her. "We don't just have a responsibility to Noah, but to Jesse too. Hell, to any girl Noah chooses to date in the future too."
"You're right," Olivia agreed. She liked to think, given their jobs, Noah would have a good idea about what was expected of him, but it didn't hurt to be sure. Her workload would possibly be lighter if more parents were as proactive as Rafael. "So, what are you going to say to him?"
The following evening, as Olivia began clearing away their dinner dishes, Rafael took the opportunity to broach the topic of sex with his son.
Taking his final mouthful of ice-cream, Noah dropped his spoon into the now empty bowl and stood. "Right, well, I've got math homework, so…"
Rafael held up a hand. "Before you disappear, I need to talk to you about something."
Olivia took those words as her cue to leave, hanging the dishcloth over the tap. "While you boys talk, I'm going to grab a shower." She and Rafael had discussed in depth last night the main points they wanted their son to take from the conversation and she was confident in her husband's ability to communicate them in a way that Noah would understand.
Noah groaned as he sank back into his chair. He knew what was coming—he'd been waiting for 'the talk' ever since his dad had come home early and caught him and Jesse making out. But that event had been almost a week ago now, and Noah had dared to believe his desperate wish that his father was suffering from a mild case of amnesia had come true.
Noah had finally plucked up the courage to ask Jesse out on Christmas Eve and, to his astonishment, she'd said yes. Three months later and they were still together and beginning to explore the physical side of their relationship. Their make-out sessions did get heated, but so far, they hadn't gone further than venturing under each other's shirts.
"So," An awkward silence fell over the kitchen as Rafael tried to find the words to begin the conversation, "I thought, after walking in on you and Jesse the other day, that maybe we should–"
"Look, Dad, you don't have to do this," Noah interrupted – partly out of pity for his father and to save himself embarrassment. "I already know how sex works. I'm not twelve."
"I know, but you're with Jesse now, so it's different."
Rafael supposed he should have spoken to Noah about this sooner, but he'd never had a girlfriend before. He'd taken a girl – Shannon – to homecoming a couple of years ago, but as their relationship hadn't continued beyond that night, Rafael had been content to hold off on giving his son 'the talk'.
"How? How is it different?"
Rafael leaned forward. "Because now you're in a position to actually be having sex."
"But we're not!" protested Noah. "Geez Dad! Jess is only 16. I wouldn't do that to her."
Rafael couldn't help but feel proud that his son was considering Jesse's age and the fact that she wasn't old enough to consent, despite the 'close-in-age' exception in the law. He reached out and clasped Noah's shoulder.
"I know, mijo. And it's good that you've thought about that. But I was a teenager once too, and I know how easy it is to get carried away."
Noah grimaced. That was more information about his Dad than he ever needed to know.
Recognising his son's expression, Rafael was apologetic. "Sorry, mijo. I don't mean to embarrass you. I just need to know that I've done everything I can to prepare and protect you."
"You think I need protecting from Jess?"
Rafael shook his head. "No. Your mom and I love Jesse, you know that. And we're happy you two finally decided to admit how you felt about each other."
Noah shot his father a mock glare and Rafael couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. The attraction between the the two had been obvious to anyone who saw them together for more than five minutes – despite what the teenagers may have wanted to believe – so it had been no surprise to Rafael when Noah had turned up at his office and asked him how you knew when you were in love.
"But relationships aren't just about fancying or loving the other person," Rafael continued. He stood and reached into a cupboard for the bottle of Macallan he kept there. Pouring himself a glass, he turned back to his son. "They come with responsibilities too. Now I know you're almost an adult and, growing up around SVU, you probably know a lot of this stuff already, but I want… I need to any to say this to you and I need you to listen, okay?"
Noah nodded. He could tell from his father's tone that this was something that meant a lot to him, so he sat up a little straighter and, despite the flush he could feel rising in his cheeks, he lifted his head and looked into the green eyes of the man who had loved and cared for him since he was a child.
"Okay. What do you want me to know?"
Rafael leaned against the counter and rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Let's start with consent. You have to be sure about what Jesse wants. That means a clear, mutual and respectful setting of boundaries, and ongoing communication between the two of you. It means the presence of a 'yes', not just the absence of a 'no'. Don't assume that Jesse will be comfortable with everything you are."
Rafael paused to take another sip of his scotch. He gave Noah a few moments to digest what he'd said before speaking again. "Also, consent can be revoked at any time. It doesn't matter if she agreed at the start or you feel she's led you on, no means no. If you hear a no, or she goes quiet or stiff, or hesitates in anyway, you stop and talk to her, check she's okay with what you're doing. And that doesn't mean trying to convince or coerce her into doing something she doesn't want to do."
"What if…" Noah bit his lip.
"Go on," Rafael urged. "You can ask me anything you want. There's no judgement."
"What if I do do something she doesn't like or isn't ready for without realising? Like if she doesn't tell me?"
Sitting back down opposite Noah, Rafael let out a breath. "I'm not going to lie, it isn't unheard of for girls and women to go further than they feel comfortable with and regret it later. My advice would be talk to her. If you want to try something you've never done before, just pause, take a breath and ask if it's okay."
"And if she says yes just to please me?" Noah asked. Growing up with the captain of Manhattan SVU as his mom, he'd heard stories of this happening, and he didn't want it to happen with Jesse.
"You can't read a girl's mind, but you know Jesse. You've known her all her life. You have that to your advantage." Rafael paused. "Maybe you need to sit down with Jesse before you get into that situation and make sure she knows that she's always allowed to stop things if it gets too much. And if she ever does, you honour that."
Noah nodded. "I will."
"And Noah," he said, reaching over to place his hand on the boy's arm, "if things are moving too fast for you, you can say no too. Consent is a two-way street."
"I don't think that's going to be an issue." Noah replied quietly, his cheeks flaming.
Rafael scoffed lightly. He remembered well the hormone-induced longings from his own teenage years. The want. The need. If he was honest, he felt a similar way with Olivia. He may be pushing sixty – and she just over – but they had still had a very active sex life. He still found her as attractive as the first day he met her twenty years ago. Not that Noah needed to know that.
"Well, just remember that, okay. In case it ever does happen."
Noah nodded and Rafael, satisfied that his son understood the consent portion of this conversation, moved on.
"Now, protection. I don't know if Jesse is on the pill or whether Amanda will suggest that to her but even if she is you should use another form of protection too. The pill, if taken properly can be 99% effective at preventing pregnancy, but in reality, that percentage drops to about 91%."
Noah held up a hand to stop him. "Did you actually look that up?"
"The percentages?"
Noah nodded.
"Yes, I did. I thought giving you facts and figures would drive home the point."
"Why is there a difference in the numbers?" Noah asked, curious how one of the main forms of contraception could be flawed.
"Some women forget to take it," Rafael explained. "They may miss a day or take it later than they should. Also, it can be affected by other medications like antibiotics or if the woman is sick. That's why, you should use condoms too. Your mom and I are not quite ready to become grandparents just yet. Condoms are the most effective form of contraception and they protect against STIs as well as. It shouldn't just come down to Jesse to think about protection. Do you…" he paused, suspecting the reaction his next question was going to induce, but decided he had to ask anyway. "Do you want me to buy you some. I can–"
The teenager's eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically. "Oh God, no! Dad!"
"Sorry. But I had to ask. One day, when you've got kids, you'll understand."
Noah sat a little straighter on his chair and met his father's gaze once more. "Look, Dad. Jesse and I aren't having sex. But when…" he shook his head, remembering his father's words about consent – he was making assumptions he had no right making. "…if we decide to, we'll be careful, I promise."
"Okay, good. Now, have you got any questions?"
"N-no… I'm good." Noah was more than ready for this conversation to be over and done with.
"But you'll ask if you do?" Rafael pressed.
"I don't know, Dad. It's embarrassing."
"I know mijo, but I'd rather you come to me than get unreliable information from the internet or your friends. I just want you to be safe and happy. You and Jesse."
That was all Rafael had ever wanted and Noah had known that from a young age. He may not have been his biological father, or any sort of father at all until Noah was five, but one thing he'd always associated with him was a feeling of safety and happiness. It was only recently, as he'd begun to mature, that Noah realised that his father strived for him to feel that – and quite often when out of his way to ensure it. He knew that extended to Jesse as well – she'd always been able to wrap her 'Uncle Rafa' around her little finger.
"Okay, Dad. I will. I promise."
Noah's phone began vibrating where he'd set it face-down on the table earlier and, thankful for the interruption, he picked it up. Turning it over to check the caller ID, a blush creeping onto his cheeks when he saw it was Jesse.
Swallowing, he glanced at his father. "Are we done?"
"Sure," Rafael said with a nod, clapping him on the shoulder. "But remember, any questions and I'm here, okay?"
"Got it." Noah reiterated as he stood and headed toward his room, his pace somewhere between a walk and a jog. As he rounded the corner and his door came into view, he swiped the screen to answer the call, not wanting to leave Jesse hanging any longer.
"Hey," he greeted her, the words his father just spoke ringing in his ears. "Want to take a walk? I want to talk to you about something.