Work Text:
xXx
Once more, Carisi glanced up from the file he was reading. It had grown late as he and Barba worked on the Musgrave case, and he could feel his concentration fading. Instead of focusing on the legal documents, he showed growing interest in the prosecutor.
Barba leaned on the tabletop, resting his head on his left hand while he read in the light of the desk lamp. Like the detective, he had long shed his jacket and vest, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.
Whenever he looked up, Carisi drank in the teasing sight, and each time, he let his eyes linger longer on the attorney. Barba’s dark hair had become tousled and curly from his hands running through it occasionally. Had his lashes always seemed so tantalizing? Carisi marveled at how they curved over his green eyes. The line of his jaw made the detective want to follow it with his tongue.
Lowering his view, he tried to pick up on his reading.
Not a chance. His concentration was gone. For a long moment, he refused to look up, but his resolve was tried by any passing second.
"Sonny?"
There went his resolve. His gaze drifted up and met that of the counselor.
Emeralds!
A lump stuck in Carisi’s throat as he got lost in the green depths. He must have zoned out then, because suddenly, Barba sat next to him on the couch and plucked the file from his hands.
"You seem awfully distracted," Barba muttered close to his ear. "Is there anything I can do to help you focus?"
Oh, yes, Carisi thought, captivated by the lips hovering close to him. If he just turned his head a little he could meet them with his own. Oooohhhh.
While his fantasy still centered around kissing, a hand alighted on his thigh and smoothed its way up between Carisi’s legs. Before he could process what happened, Barba kissed his cheek, hard.
Now Carisi did turn his head. His lips met Barba’s in a passionate kiss that became more heated by the second. That Barba grabbed him through the fabric of his trousers did nothing to ease his rising fire. Letting go of last doubts, Carisi entwined his fingers in Barba’s hair. Lips and tongues tangled next and before Carisi knew it, Barba was kissing down his neck. Leaning his head back, he gave him access to his throat, reveling in the suction of lips and graze of teeth. Barba worked his way to the base of his neck and then continued to the side. His tongue flicked over Carisi’s earlobe before he took it between his teeth and tugged on it.
Carisi moaned. He had no idea how this started, but he sure as hell would not put a stop to it. Turning his head, he assaulted Barba with kisses, treating him to the same ministrations he had enjoyed.
When he came up for breath, Barba dove back in, ravishing him with his mouth. Carisi did not quite know where to go with his arousal as they were still fully clothed. Reaching for Barba’s shirt, he tried to undo the buttons. He could not fumble fast enough and went for kissing Barba’s chest before he was done undressing him. His lips found one of the nipples and sucked on it. Hearing Barba moan encouraged him and he lightly bit down on the firm nub.
Barba groaned, a low, guttural sound rumbling out of his chest.
Carisi felt himself being grabbed and pushed back, falling into the cushions and being pinned there by the prosecutor's weight atop of him. One of Barba’s knees pressed between his legs to make them part. Carisi did him the favor. Hips pressed against hips, their hardening lengths rubbing against each other through fabric.
"Rafael..."
Hot lips once more trailed along his throat and further down, following his example by finding Carisi’s chest. Teeth raked over sensitive skin.
"Oh, yeah..." Carisi moaned, hands once more tangled in the dark strands.
Barba’s teeth grazed over his chest again, letting sensuous tingles course through him. The graze was sharper this time, harder and demanding. Carisi yelped at the sting, but the sound broke into a moan before he could stop himself. Heat flooded him, muddling everything into white noise, until there was only Barba’s mouth, Barba’s weight, Barba’s scent all around him.
Overwhelmed by his sensations, Carisi barely noticed the way Barba stilled, lips pressed against the skin he had just bitten. Only when the attorney’s breath hitched, he realized that he had stopped.
Tugging at his hair, Carusi urged him back up for another kiss. “Don’t stop now,” he rasped, eyes glazed with want.
For a fleeting second, Carisi thought he had seen a look of horror flick across Barba’s features, but then the attorney kissed him, desperate, feverish.
When he pulled away, his chest was heaving.
Carisi whined at the loss, trying to chase his mouth, but Barba pressed him back into the cushions with trembling hands.
“This was a mistake,” he muttered, voice rough, though his body was still straining for more. “You don’t understand.”
Carisi blinked up at him, dazed, lips swollen. “Rafa… you can’t just kiss me like that and call it a mistake.”
Barba’s jaw tightened, searching for words that, for once, eluded him. All he could do was push himself off the couch and pace like a man on the edge of breaking.
“Rafael...”
“No,” Barba growled, “I hurt you. That's the last thing I want."
"That little prick?" Carisi chortled, eyeing the teeth marks on his chest where a small drop of blood oozed out of the pinhole Barba had bitten. "I've had worse shaving."
To Carisi the attorney appeared disproportionately haunted by what he had done.
"This was a bad idea," Barba declared. "Go home!”
Wounded, Carisi looked up at him.
“I said go home!” Barba insisted, grabbing up Carisi's briefcase and shoving it into his arms, “C'mon, leave!”
It was all Carisi could do not to tremble with want and confusion as he got to his feet. Barba half guided half shoved him to the door. It clicked shut behind him.
xXx
The next morning, Carisi spotted Barba leaving the bullpen, file in hand, sleeves rolled down, tie neat as if nothing had happened the night before. The counselor’s posture was rigid, his expression the polished mask Carisi had seen him wear in court a hundred times.
“Rafa,” Carisi called softly, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. The memory of their kisses burned hot in his chest. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice. “About last night…”
Barba did not veer from his way to the squadroom's entrance doors. “There is nothing to discuss, Detective,” he stated, his tone clipped, professional mask back in place and each word cutting like a scalpel.
Carisi blinked, thrown. “Nothin’ to...” No words were forthcoming right away, but the knot deep in his gut that had formed the previous night began to pulse and ache again. “You kissed me. We-”
“That was a lapse in judgment.” Stopping cold in his tracks, Barba’s gaze finally met Carisi's, cool and sharp. “I never intended to blur the line between us. It won’t happen again.”
The words landed like a blow. Carisi’s mouth opened, then closed, helpless to argue when Barba already turned away.
“Rafa...”
Coat and file in hand, the prosecutor continued his stride toward the elevators, every line of him rigid with finality.
Left in the middle of the hallway, Carisi stood frozen, file forgotten at his side. The sting of rejection burned hotter than embarrassment. It twisted low in his gut, sharper than he wanted to admit. Since he had first met him, he had never seen Barba run from anything.
Until now.
xXx
Sitting on a cot in the squad's breakroom, Carisi tried to tame his swirling thoughts. A whole week had passed since that night, and he still could not shake the memory. Whenever he caught a glimpse of Barba, across the squad room, at court, or out on the street, he recalled it so vividly that he could feel the heat of lips, the teeth, and the low groan that had rumbled out of the man's chest.
He could not help it.
He wanted that man.
He had to try again.
Getting past Carmen was easy, so he lingered just outside Barba's office, balancing two coffees in one hand, before pushing the door open with his shoulder.
“Figured you could use a caffeine refill,” he said, aiming for easy charm.
Barba did not even look up from the papers on his desk.
“I have work to do, Detective.”
Smile faltering, Carisi set the cup down anyway. “Yeah, well, so do I,” he declared, “Doesn't mean I don't need a break now and then.”
Silence was his only answer.
Shifting on his feet, Carisi searched Barba's profile for any crack in the mask. “Listen, if this is about, you know, the other night...”
“It isn't,” Barba cut him off. Relentlessly, his pen scratched across the page. “I told you, it was a mistake. Nothing more.”
The words cut sharper than they should have. Swallowing hard, Carisi tried to cover the sting with a crooked grin, “Right. Just a mistake. Forget I said anything.”
When Barba finally glanced up, his eyes were unreadable. Carisi's heart sank when he looked into those green depths. Unwilling to give the hurt away, he forced a little shrug, turned, and walked out. Untouched, the offered coffee cooled on the desk.
Barba stared at the paper cup for a long moment before pushing it aside with trembling fingers.
xXx
When work led him to the prosecutor's office the next day, Carisi was determined to treat the counselor with professional indifference. Upon entering the prosecutor's sanctum, he instinctively held his breath for a moment. His hand went to his chest to scratch the spot where teeth marks still were reddened.
As Carisi dropped into the chair across from Barba with his usual lanky sprawl, a fresh file in his hands, he aimed for light humor when he said, “Gotta tell ya, Counselor, Musgrave’s lawyer must bathe in cologne. I could smell him comin’ down the hall before I even saw him.”
Pen in hand, taking notes, Barba froze.
“Excuse me?”
Grinning, Carisi shrugged, “What? It's true. Guy smells like he poured half the bottle on himself. Pretty sure I could pick him out of a lineup with my nose alone.”
Reaching out for a bowl on the counselor's desk, he grabbed a handful of chocolate nuts and popped them into his mouth. Then he scratched at his chest again where the mark was itching stronger than before.
Barba's brow quirked and, though the joke had sounded harmless in itself, his knuckles whitened around his pen.
“And it ain't just that,” Carisi went on, oblivious to the attorney’s discomfort. “Thought I was losin' it the other night when I could hear Rollins and Fin arguing clear across the bullpen. Like, crystal clear.”
Chuckling, Carisi shook his head and picked out another few nuts, “Guess I'm just overtired, huh?”
“Probably,” Barba said, sounding absentminded. Inside, he was a whirlwind, his mind racing back to that night, the heat, the taste of blood, the way he had told himself that a single slip could not possibly... there his thought derailed.
Leaning forward in the visitor's chair, Carisi smirked conspiratorially, “Don't worry, Counselor. If my senses are sharpening, that just makes me more useful for you in court.”
The levity in the detective's tone made Barba's stomach twist. Forcing his face into its usual mask, he fought the rising panic that clawed inside his chest and was impossible to silence. For days now, he had tried to deny that Carisi smelled differently, felt differently, and sounded differently. Even worse, though, he could sense the pulsing on Carisi's chest. Watching how the detective rubbed at the spot again, he felt guilt burn hot and bright, because now he knew for sure what he had tried to deny for about two long weeks.
Heightened senses and an insatiable appetite?
Tomorrow was going to be a full moon.
Munching on another mouthful of chocolate nuts, Carisi commented offhandedly, “Weird, right? Thought I was just overtired, but it’s like... I can hear better. Smells are crazy intense too. Even your cologne’s stronger.”
Closing the file he read a little too sharply, Barba earned a curious glance from Carisi. For a long moment, silence stretched between them, heavy with things unsaid.
Finally, Barba leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled like defensive spears. While his voice sounded smooth, the faintest crack reverberated through it as he stated, “The Musgrave case still needs attention. Come by my place tomorrow evening, Detective. We'll go over the details and your testimony without interruption.”
Blinking with surprise, Carisi tried to hide the grin that tugged at his mouth.
“Your place, huh? You sure you can handle me in your apartment, Counselor?”
Favoring the detective with a flat look that softened just for a breath, he said, “Don't make me regret the invitation, Detective.”
Carisi's heart kicked hard against his ribs. For over a week, Barba had been colder than ice, and now, now he was letting him in again, even if only under the pretense of work. Hope flared bright and reckless in his chest.
“Wouldn't dream of it,” he said lightly, though he could not stop the warmth bleeding into his voice, “I'll bring the cannoli. You bring that sharp legal mind of yours.”
Barba's lips twitched like he was fighting down a smile, but he looked away before Carisi could be sure.
As Carisi left the office, buoyed by the flicker of softness, Barba pressed his palms flat to the desk to steady himself.
Tomorrow night.
He had less than twenty-four hours to prepare, and he was not certain he had the strength to face what was coming.
xXx
Pacing the length of his living room, Barba rolled up the sleeves of his casual shirt. Tonight was the night, and the clock ticked too loud in the silence, every minute dragging him closer to moonrise.
Where the hell is Carisi?
Fearing that the detective got held up, he hoped and prayed that he would still make it in time.
I should have set a specific time. It's essential that he's here early enough.
When the knock finally came, he nearly sagged with relief. Yanking open the door, he found Carisi, flushed and out of breath from the stairs, a small bakery box balanced in one hand.
“Sorry I'm late,” Carisi said, sheepish, “Didn't wanna flake on ya, but I'm sore all over today. Like I ran a marathon in my sleep or something.”
Eyeing the younger man intently, Barba worried his bottom lip. To him, the signs were clear as broad daylight. In addition, he felt the mark burn, almost as if it tied them together. Barba's stomach clenched, but he smoothed his expression, ushering Carisi inside.
“Well, you're here now,” he said, trying for lighthearted and failing miserably. Did Carisi pick up on it? It did not seem so.
Grinning, the detective held up the box.
“Cannoli, like I promised. Now, where's this case file you're so desperate to dig into on a Friday night?”
Night? Is it night already?
Barba's heart skipped a beat. His nose told him that Carisi was overflowing with hormones.
“Over here,” he said, taking the box and setting it aside untouched, “We'll indulge on these later. First let me show you my problem.”
Keeping his tone soft, coaxing, he guided Carisi down the short hall. His hand trembled as it reached for the handle on a heavy, reinforced door: the entrance to his safe room. Beside him, the detective stopped short at the sight, curiosity flickering across his face, then suspicion.
“Uh, Counselor... this the part where I find out you're into some real kinky stuff?” Carisi asked with a half-smile, trying for levity.
Instead of answering, Barba opened the door. With a hand pressed lightly to Carisi's back, he guided him further inside the chamber that was lacking regular furnishings and lined with thick padding on walls and ceiling. Dimmable lamps provided a soft, calming light. Cushions lined the floor in a wide circle, and a low platform sat in the center with heavy restraints, padded thickly in leather, anchored to it.
Letting out a short, nervous laugh, Carisi took a step back, his voice cracking, “You're kidding me, right?” He turned, half laughing, half uncertain, especially as his libido had acted up as soon as he came close to Barba's apartment. Still, he could not see himself indulging in such kink, “This is what? Twenty-Five Acts, Barba style?”
Barba did not rise to the joke.
Cautiously, he closed the door and turned the key, its click echoing too loud.
“Hey! That's not funny!” Carisi's pulse jumped, torn between the thrill curling low in his stomach and a flash of indignation.
“You're right, it's not,” he said, checking his watch, lips pressed thin. The seconds ticked toward inevitability. “This isn't about games, Sonny,” he told him, voice low and urgent. “I need you to let me tether you.”
Carisi blinked, taken aback. “Tether me? Rafa, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Please.” Barba's eyes finally met his, stripped of pretense, a raw edge of fear cutting through. “Trust me.”
Carisi shifted uncomfortably, the ache in his body flaring sharper now. His muscles felt like they were being pulled in different directions at once, joints burning as if fevered.
“Jesus, I don't... I don't feel right.”
Knowing that he was not left much time, Barba urged Carisi down onto the cushions. "It's safer for the both of us. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry." His touch firm and steady, he murmured reassurances as he guided the detective's right wrist into one of the padded restraints, "I won't leave your side, Carisi. I promise. I'll stay with you through the whole process." When he buckled the cuff up, the detective strained against it.
"Process?" Carisi panted, "What process?"
“It's starting,” Barba muttered under his breath. “Faster than I hoped.”
“What's starting?” Carisi's voice threatened to break. “What? Rafa?”
Ignoring his colleague's rising panic, Barba reached for Carisi's left wrist. This time, the detective resisted, and it cost the counselor quite an effort to lock his arm in.
Carisi's breath hitched, the physical pain colliding with the sharp sting of betrayal.
“Rafa?” he whimpered, his voice small, bewildered, “What's happening?”
Feeling his limbs flex inside the restraints, Carisi dropped his gaze... and his eyes went wide when he saw the skin across his knuckles appear stretched, almost swollen, nails darkening at the edges.
“No,” Carisi whispered, shaking his head as panic surged. Instinctively, he yanked on the cuffs, trying to free himself as he muttered to himself, “No. No, no! What the hell is that? What's happening to me?”
“Sonny,” Barba begged, tightening his grip on his arm, steadying him. “Sonny, look at me. You're not alone.” But he could not tell whether his voice broke through the rising tide. Instead, his own senses were flooded with intensifying scents, accelerating heartbeat, and the rush of blood through the other man's veins.
"Sonny, I'm gonna take off your clothes," Barba told him matter-of-factly. Carisi just stared at him out of widened, frightened eyes. He did not resist when Barba opened his belt, button and zipper and helped him out of his jeans.
Then another wave of agony hit him and Carisi writhed against the cushions, breath coming ragged as heat flushed under his skin. The ache in his muscles sharpened into stabbing jolts, each one wringing a groan from his throat.
“Rafa,” he sobbed, “Something's wrong. I can't...”
Crouching low beside him, Barba put one of his hands steady on his chest. “I told you. You have to trust me. Breathe through it.”
Carisi's chest heaved. He turned his head, desperate for answers, and froze.
Barba's eyes, once sharp green, gleamed molten gold in the low light. The color shifted like liquid fire, unnatural and mesmerizing, catching every flicker of the lamps.
Carisi's breath stuttered. “Jesus Christ.”
Jaw clenched, as if holding something back, Barba's voice was low and edged with a growl not entirely human, “The moon is full tonight, so this is what you are now. This is what I made you.”
The words barely landed before Carisi cried out, body arching against the restraints. The burn spread through every vein, every nerve, until it felt like the bones themselves were breaking apart. He thrashed, wrists straining against padded leather, a guttural sound tearing out of him.
“Stay with me, Sonny,” Barba urged, grip tightening at his shoulder. “It feels like it'll break you, but it won't. You're stronger than you think. Much stronger.”
Carisi's eyes squeezed shut, sweat slick on his brow. His hands trembled violently, nails lengthening, fingertips darkening. The sight made his stomach lurch because they were not his hands anymore.
“Rafa!” his voice cracked with fear, “Make it stop!”
"I can't," Barba murmured, regret coloring his voice. Gently, he brushed a sheen of sweat off the detective's forehead. "I'm so sorry."
"Bout what?" Carisi whimpered, his chest heaving as he tried to prepare for the next onslaught of pain.
"Biting you."
As the next wave hit, Carisi bucked hard against the restraints, the sound that ripped from his chest no longer a scream but a guttural snarl. His back arched, muscles seizing as though something inside him was clawing to get out.
Through the haze, he heard Barba's deep baritone, low but commanding, “Sonny, look at me.”
Pupils blown wide, his gaze snapped to him. A gasp escaped him when Barba's outline blurred, his features sharpening then stretching in subtle ways: the curve of his cheekbones, the angle of his jaw, the ripple of sinew beneath his shirt. It was not violent, not like what was happening to him, but controlled, precise, and deliberate.
What really captivated him were Barba's eyes that glowed brighter, burning steady like twin embers.
Panting with the effort to ride the pain and rid himself of the cuffs, Carisi asked, “How... how the hell are you so calm?”
Barba's lip curled, revealing the growth of sharpened canines.
“Years of practice.”
Another wave tore through Carisi then, his body twisting, bones shifting with audible cracks. His cry shredded into a howl that ended too ragged, too human. He thrashed, tearing at the padded shackles, every inch of him rebelling against the impossible.
Barba leaned in close, his own claws sliding free as he gripped Carisi's shoulder to anchor him.
“Breathe, Sonny. Don't fight every change, ride it. The pain's worse when you fight.”
Carisi shuddered, sweat streaming down his temple, eyes wide and terrified. Though his transforming body should be proof enough, he still could not believe what he was told, until for a split second, Barba's touch steadied the chaos, grounding him in something other than fire and agony.
Then his head slammed back into the cushions, his body bowing like a drawn bowstring, pain rising to a crescendo, rattling him from the inside out. Every crack of bone was louder now, hips, shoulders, spine twisting into shapes they'd never known.
By now, his voice was gone. What tore from his throat was not human anymore.
“Stay with me, Sonny,” Barba urged, golden eyes locked on his. “Don't lose yourself. Not yet.”
Carisi's wide eyes, once blue-grey, flickered with something brighter, a sickly amber glow bleeding through. His teeth snapped sharp as his jaw stretched, and for one awful moment, the detective's panic filled the room like a storm about to break.
“Breathe,” Barba commanded, voice a guttural rumble now, threaded with the wolf. “I've got you.”
With a final wrenching cry that turned into a howl, the shift took him. The soundproof walls caught the echo, trapping it between them. Triggered by the other's cry, Barba howled with him.
Where Carisi had thrashed and fought, a wolf crouched low on the cushions now.
Barba gasped when he eyed the massive beast that was the new form of the SVU detective. He looked magnificent, though his chest was heaving with aftershocks from transformation. His golden-brown fur was bristling as his bulk strained against the cuffs. His eyes darted wildly until they found Barba.
For a heartbeat everything stilled.
Then Carisi lunged against the bonds, snarling, raw instinct boiling over.
Barba did not flinch. His own wolf simmered just beneath his skin, controlled, leashed. Lowering himself, he held his golden gaze steady, voice a growl as he commanded, “Look at me, Sonny. You're not alone in this."
However, the wolf strained, snarled, then faltered, hackles twitching, as though some shred of recognition pushed through the fury.
Barba exhaled, never breaking eye contact. Now he could sense him, the presence of the newborn wolf, wild and enigmatic. At the same time, he could still smell his fear. His heart was beating wildly and slowed only gradually.
Taking a step closer, Barba leaned into Carisi's side, his half-transformed hand finding the spot right behind his ears that was especially sensitive to touch. Lightly scratching the spot, he murmured nonsense to the newborn until he heard his pulse slow.
“That's it," he murmured, reaching for the cuffs to undo them. "Find me in the chaos. Hold on to me.” Then he allowed his body to complete the shift, joining the newborn in his natural shape.
As soon as Carisi felt the cuffs slide away, he lunged, not at the door, not in blind rage, but toward Barba. Just for a second, it seemed as if he had trouble coordinating his limbs on all fours now, but then he caught himself and lunged again.
The older wolf held his ground, meeting the charge head-on. Their bodies collided in a tangle of fur and teeth, but there was no blood, no attempt at a killing blow. Raw instinct pressed Carisi to snap at the other wolf, his blood curdling with primal energy. Barba snapped back, momentarily catching him in a bite on his jaws that sent a jolt through him that screamed bow to him.
Carisi's growl rumbled low, hungry, and confused, but when his muzzle brushed Barba's, the growl turned into something else. A rough, keening sound that begged more than it threatened.
Barba responded in kind, twisting, pinning the newborn just enough, showing him how dominance felt without cruelty. His fangs grazed the scruff of Carisi's neck, not breaking skin, only holding him still until the younger wolf shuddered beneath the weight of it.
Recognition sparked in those new amber eyes, recognition and surrender, and a sound broke from Carisi's throat, uncertain, wavering, caught between a growl and a whimper.
For a heartbeat, the safe room felt too small for the force of them, two wolves, instincts burning, every fiber demanding to clash or to cling. And for Sonny, the line between fear and want blurred so completely that only Barba's grip kept him from drowning.
Eventually, the older wolf let go. Slowly, he circled the newborn, scanning him from his head to the tip of his tail.
And Carisi bowed under his scrutiny, tucking his tail in and crouching low on the pillows. To Barba that seemed to be an invitation, because he circled in and settled at his side, fur brushing fur. Their warmth bled together, the room filling not with panic but the first threads of quiet belonging.
For the first time that night, Carisi's wolf stilled, and not just because the pain had passed, but because Barba was there, fierce, steady, unshakable, keeping him from burning alone.
xXx
Sonny woke with a start, his whole body jerking like he had surfaced too fast from a nightmare. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, sweat cooling on his skin. The cushions beneath him were unfamiliar, the walls strange, padded, too quiet.
For a second, his pulse kicked into overdrive.
Where am I?
His body felt like it had been trampled by a truck, every muscle weak and trembling, his throat scraped raw. Then memory trickled back: Barba's apartment, the safe-room, the panic, the cuff, his whole body burning alive, bones splintering, tearing.
But... that was a dream, wasn't it? A fever dream, courtesy of sore muscles and too much late-night espresso. Because I'm human.
With a pang of panic, he looked down at himself: hands, skin, all intact.
Subconsciously, he rubbed at his wrists where the skin was red from leather that had pressed deep and left faint impressions, as he released a breath, shakier than he would like. A low sound stirred the air. Not a human breath, not quite.
Sonny's gaze snapped sideways.
There, on the cushions beside him, lay a wolf.
It was huge, much taller than wolves he remembered seeing at the zoo. Broad shouldered, even at rest, with fur the color of dark mocha, silver threading though like faint scars of moonlight.
Sonny froze.
Despite fresh panic coiling inside, he could not take his eyes off the wolf. Its body was curled with careful restraint, as if keeping distance even in sleep, while its chest rose and fell slow, steady.
Carisi choked, willing his eyes to be wrong, but the longer he looked, the more certain he became. The wolf was not just there in the counselor's place but it smelled like him, like his cologne, his soap, the faintest trace of coffee and citrus. The scent was him.
“Oh my God,” Carisi whispered.
As if in answer, the wolf’s ear flicked, head lifting just slightly. One golden eye cracked open, catching him in its glow.
Carisi sucked in a breath, equal parts fear and awe. His voice broke, soft, uncertain, “Rafa?”
The wolf blinked, slow and deliberate, before settling its head back onto its paws with a rumbling exhale.
No, not it, Carisi realized. He. That's Barba.
Swallowing a fresh lump in his throat, Sonny shifted onto his side, watching the rise and fall of the wolf's chest. There was no threat in the posture and, against every logical instinct, Sonny lifted a hand.
His fingers brushed into the thick fur at Barba's shoulder. The coat was softer than he expected, felt warm and alive. He let his palm linger, stroking once, twice.
The wolf stirred, body shivering as though something deep inside had been nudged awake. His eyes opened and trained on Sonny.
One look at the golden depths and Carisi was lost.
Barba's next breath rattled, his form shifting as bones were popping, his limbs reshaping. His claws withdrew and his thick fur turned into skin. His transformation seemed easy and peaceful, controlled in a way that Carisi could only dream of.
Sonny jerked back, wide-eyed, but could not look away as the wolf unraveled in silence and Barba lay there instead, propped on both elbows and some curls plastered to his forehead. The faintest growl escaped his throat before it melted into a sigh.
Sonny's hand still hovered in the air, fingers tingling with the memory of fur. His mouth moved before his brain caught up.
“You... you're kidding, right? That's... that's not possible. I saw... I mean, Christ, I felt like my bones were... and then you... and now...” His voice cracked under the weight of disbelief. He scrubbed a hand down his face, laughing once, high and breathless. “Rafa, I'm losing my mind, because either I just petted a goddamn wolf like it was somebody's golden retriever, or...”
“Sonny.”
Barba's voice cut through the tumble of words, low and steady, but edged with something rougher than usual. It was enough to still Carisi mid-rant, his chest heaving. Their eyes locked, and for the first time, Sonny noticed the sharp glint lingering in Barba's pupils... still not fully human.
Carisi licked his lips, throat dry. "So... it wasn't a nightmare?"
Barba's mouth twitched, not quite a smile, "No."
Swallowing hard, Carisi searched his face, "You're a..."
Barba tilted his head, a touch of self-mockery in his tone, "The polite term is lycanthrope. Werewolf if you're feeling dramatic."
Carisi let out a shaky laugh, though it died quick. "Jesus Christ. And me? Last night. What happened to me?"
Barba's gaze softened, though guilt shadowed it, "I bit you." He said it simply, flatly, like a confession long rehearsed. "That night in my office. I let myself lose control. I told myself it wouldn't matter, that one bite in human form wouldn't... but it did. And now..."
He gestured toward Carisi, who sat with wrists still marked by the restraints, chest bare, his skin mapped with faint bruises where his body had fought itself.
Dropping his head into his hands, Carisi exhaled hard.
"So I'm... what? Like you now? That thing last night, that was me?"
"Yes."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by Carisi's ragged breathing. Finally, he laughed again, bitter this time.
"You know, I thought you pushed me away 'cause of professionalism. Thought maybe you were just scared of bein' with me. Turns out you were scared of turning me into a monster."
Barba flinched. "You're not a monster."
Carisi looked at him, eyes raw, "Then what am I?"
Barba leaned forward, steadying his voice, every word deliberate. "You're still you. Still Sonny Carisi. Detective, loudmouth, terrible taste in ties. But yes, now you're something more. And it's going to hurt. It's going to change things. But you're not alone. Not in this."
The sincerity in his tone made Carisi's chest tighten and he swallowed, forcing a crooked smile, "Hell of a way to tell a guy you wanna be his partner."
Barba's laugh came out hoarse, genuine for the first time in weeks. "Trust you to find a joke in this."
Something about the sound triggered Sonny. A deep, gnawing itch flared in his chest, right where Barba had bitten him. Sonny reached up, pressing his fingers to it, but the touch only made it worse. His skin burned like the mark had been branded into him.
“Rafa...” Sonny's voice dropped, uncertain. “Something's happening.”
Barba had gone still, every muscle taut.
Of course, he felt it, too, that thrumming connection, tugging like a live wire between them. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to smother the primal hunger that rose sharp and hot under his skin. However, the more he fought it, the stronger it pulsed.
“The mark,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sonny. "It's... alive.”
Sonny's eyes widened.
“Alive? What the hell does that even...” His breath stuttered when another wave of heat rolled through him, deeper this time, curling low in his groin. His gaze flicked down Barba's bare torso, a rush of want flooding him.
Barba's nostrils flared, scenting it. The air between them grew thick and charged.
“Don't,” he ground out, half-growl, half-warning, though his own body betrayed him. His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for Sonny but holding back.
“I can't...” Sonny whispered, the words spilling raw. “It's like... I can't get enough of you. Like I've been waiting for this without even knowing it.”
Barba shut his eyes tight, fighting for composure, but the mark throbbed in sync with Sonny's pulse. Every instinct in him screamed the truth he did not want to face. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed faintly gold.
“I didn't think it was true.”
Sonny hardly heard him through the rush in his ears, pulse too fast, too hard, a drumbeat that demanded release. “What was?”
“The tales about fated mates,” Barba sighed, letting the rush of arousal wash through him. “But it must be. I can't...” he stepped toward Sonny, “...can't help it.”
Both his hands came up, reaching for Sonny's face, at the same time as the detective surged forward, fists in Barba's shirt, dragging him down. Their lips met in a crushing kiss that was not a kiss at all but teeth and hunger, lips crashing until they both groaned.
Barba slammed him back into the padded walls, pinning him there with the weight of his body. Sonny gasped, hips jerking instinctively, but instead of pulling away he arched into it, desperate, offering.
The growl that rumbled out of Barba was inhuman, vibrating through both of them. His hands clamped around Sonny's wrists and pressed them over his head, holding him in place as if he weighed nothing. Sonny strained against his grip, not to escape but to test, to feel the press of strength that thrilled him even as his pulse spiked with submission.
"Rafa..." his voice cracked on the name, half plea, half challenge.
Barba's answer was another kiss, savage and claiming, leaving Sonny no room to breathe, no room to think. Every nerve in his body lit up at once, primal need roaring louder than reason. He writhed against Barba, desperate to take more, to give more.
"Don't stop," he gasped between kisses, "I don't care what happens, don't you dare stop..."
Barba's lips dragged down his throat, onto his chest, teeth scraping over the mark until Sonny cried out, his knees threatening to give. His whole body vibrated with need, raw and helpless, his instincts screaming to submit and to demand in the same breath.
Barba's grip tightened, his voice a growl at Sonny's ear, "You don't know what you're asking for."
"Yes, I do," Sonny's voice shook, but the words rang with certainty. Tilting his head back, he bared his throat, his chest rising hard against Barba's. "Take it. Take me."
"No, you don't," Barba panted, his hands reaching for Carisi's waist, arms wrapping around him with rough, urgent motions.
"Just do it," Sonny panted, "Now!"
He felt himself falling and smashing into thick cushions. Barba was on him with primal urgency, kissing him with teeth and tongue, hands rough on his torso and a knee pressing between his legs. Sonny could feel his bulge through his boxers and thrust his hips to meet him. Pinned under Barba's body, he had not much leverage as he strained for friction. Something sharp raked along his side and Sonny hissed through clenched teeth at the pain that lit up as his skin broke. The pain trailed down to his thigh and the boxers fell away.
Glancing down, Sonny found a gash along his body, not deep but painfully prickling, almost as if his flesh strained for completion. Fascinated, he watched how his skin knitted back up.
"Told you," Barba snickered breathlessly, dragging his tongue along the slash, tasting blood, "you're stronger than you think."
His hand rested on Carisi's flank, fingernails replaced with his wolf's claws.
"You're sexy as hell," Carisi gasped, clawing at Barba's hair and pulling him in for another kiss. As his tongue slipped in to ravage his oral cavity, it flicked across fangs. That should have disturbed him, but right at that moment, it only intensified his fire. Carisi scratched his nails across Barba's bare back, wishing he had control over his claws as well. However, his own wolf was caged until the next full moon, but his need was stronger than ever. He lived to be with Barba, to unite their flesh. Wrapping his legs around the other's body, he bucked up his hips.
"Now, Rafa," he panted, voice cracking high, "Please."
With a low pitched grunt, Barba angled his body, feet searching for purchase against the sheets. Carisi gasped for breath and held it involuntarily when he felt his hole being breached. Slowly but steadily, Barba sank himself into Carisi, making the detective shudder with every millimeter of intrusion. His back arched in a desperate attempt to meet him halfway. Through the haze, Carisi was stunned how deep his unprepared body could take Barba's length in and how much of a turn-on it was. Breaths coming in ragged gasps, he strained for more.
Instead, Barba withdrew equally slowly, making Carisi moan with the anticipation of loss. Bucking his hips, he tried to keep him in, only to gasp as the cock slid out and left him wide open. A whine escaped Carisi and he grabbed for Barba harder, pulling him down desperately.
"Shhh," Barba soothed, his dark timbre reverberating through both of them. His fingers threaded through Carisi's blond curls before they gripped him hard. "I'm not done with you."
Carisi hoped and prayed that was true, even as he felt Barba's free hand slide along the outside of his thigh, around his knee, and back up on the inside. When the caress continued over his buttocks and fingertips grazed the ring of muscles, his breath shuddered. Caught between Barba's hands, he stilled.
"What do you want?" Barba muttered hoarsely as he let his fingertips trail the circle repeatedly.
"You," Carisi moaned.
At that, Barba chuckled softly, "And I want you." With that, his fingers curled, around the edge and into the opening.
Carisi's eyes went wide and he thanked his lucky stars that the claws had been retracted. The way the fingers hooked into him already had him tense up and he did not want to imagine the pain in addition.
"Rafa?" he gasped. "Would I... al-always heal that fast?"
"As long as you haven't been hurt by silver," Barba gasped. "Let go of me."
Without paying it any thought, Carisi took his hands off his lover's back and let them fall to his sides. Barba still grasped at his hair, holding him in place while he fingered his opening, teasing and spreading. Then, he shifted his position, his hand coming down on the pillows to support himself, and dove back in, fast and far.
Carisi arched his back and Barba's name shuddered off his tongue.
"Not right," Barba muttered, pulling back out.
Breathing heavily, Carisi lay underneath him.
"What's not right?" he whimpered, especially as his lover also let go of his hair and scooted back. "Rafa?"
"C'mere," Barba snarled, got to his feet and grabbed one of Carisi's ankles. Before the detective could react, he felt dragged across the floor, pillows sweeping along. His butt kissed the edge of the platform, then felt the velvety carpet it was covered with.
Carisi would have thought that such an act would humiliate him, rile him up, and make him lash out. Instead, his arousal rose, his own member growing rock hard. Once more, Barba pulled on him, lifting his butt to push at least one pillow underneath him.
When Barba released him, his feet came down beyond the platform's edge, legs stretched by their own weight. Carisi had no time to orientate himself because Barba lowered himself between his legs, took hold of his raised hips, and breached.
Carisi gasped, throwing his head back. Sprawled as he was, he felt thoroughly exposed.
He loved it.
Glancing down at Barba, he awaited his lover's return, that came sudden and fast. In one thrust, he shoved his whole length in. Sonny yelped with it and cried out when flesh hit his prostate.
"Yesss," Barba hissed, drew back a little and thrust.
With the next sensory explosion inside of him, Carisi lost what little control he had left. His fingers dug into pillow and carpet, hips bucking uncontrollably. Every fibre and nerve of his body came alight in unison with the hits on his core.
Until Barba's thrusts turned into heavy shudders that he answered with violent trembling. Carisi was not fully aware as he came, loud, messy, and in sync with Barba.
Once he could catch breath and thought, he realized that Barba lay atop of him.
Carisi did not mind. On the contrary, he sensed fresh arousal wash through him, his skin tingling wherever he came in touch with Barba's. Hungrily, his hands wandered over every inch of his lover's body that he could reach, familiarizing himself with it. Carisi wanted to know him inside out and reveled in the so far unfamiliar touch under his hands, strange and exciting, and his.
Mine.
Sonny could hardly believe it yet that he had actually slept with Rafael Barba.
Fucked, he corrected himself. And I wouldn't mind more.
"Rafael?"
"Mmm?"
"Are you falling asleep on me?"
"No..." Barba drawled. "Just catching my breath."
"Good," Sonny chuckled, teasing the crack of Barba's ass, feeling the muscles flex under his palm. Exploratively, he fingered his sphincter, tried to push a finger in. The ring felt tight and hardly gave. Carisi knew he should slick it up but did not want to let go.
"Can you tell me what you're doing?" Barba mumbled against his chest.
"Exploring," Carisi murmured, urging one digit beyond the firm muscles. "Never did that before."
Atop of him, Barba went rigid, from the words as well as the curving finger in his ass.
"That was your first time?"
"Yeah."
"Sonny, I'm sorry," Barba muttered. "If I hurt you..."
"You didn't," Carisi shrugged. "And I wanted you to take me raw."
"Still, I shouldn't have..." Contrite, Barba reached and petted Carisi's head, reveling in the softness of his blond strands.
"And I want you again," Carisi moaned, hooking his legs around his lover's limbs to bring him closer. His hips ground against him, searching for friction.
"As in now?"
"You sound surprised," Carisi snickered. "Aren't you up to it, old man?"
"Oh, don't you dare!" Barba chided. "You have absolutely no idea."
Supporting himself on both his elbows on both sides of Carisi's torso, Barba cupped his shoulders from behind. That gave him leverage as he answered with grinding motions of his own. Retreating his hands from Barba's ass, Carisi moved them up the hips to hold Barba there and urge him to move faster.
Deciding that he wanted something else, Barba pushed up and sat back on his heels. Taking hold on Carisi's left leg, he first pulled the pillows out and then lifted the limb up, hooking the knee over his own shoulder.
Carisi's eyes went wide as saucers when the position further exposed his backside. Even though Barba had already ravished him earlier, he felt a fresh arousal rise that intensified when their genitals brushed against each other.
"Don't hold back," he muttered. "I'm yours, Rafael. Fuck me."
"I want you," Barba sighed, aligning himself. "Oh, how much I want you."
"Then do," Carisi moaned, trying to meet him. Only seconds later, he panted with lust when the different angle at which Barba entered set his nerves on fire. Before meeting the prosecutor, he had not even brushed the subject with his thoughts, and now, he thrived on his flesh penetrating his own.
As Barba rocked into him, Carisi grabbed his upper arms to lend him support. Thrusting his own hips, he welcomed every intrusion. Close to the edge, he felt Barba constrict and heat filling him when he came. This time, Barba pulled out, leaving Carisi unsatisfied.
"Come back," the detective moaned. "Please."
But Barba sat down on the pillows, utterly spent.
"Rafael..." Carisi whined. "Don't do that to me. Come back."
The mark on his chest was itching strongly, raw red as if he got freshly bitten.
Squirming from his back to his front, Carisi got up on his knees, offering himself bluntly to Barba who just stared at him in disbelief.
"Please..." Carisi moaned, scooting backwards. "I need you. Now."
"You want it? Come and get it," Barba replied, reaching for his cock to stroke it to erection again, which worked faster than he himself had expected. Probably's got to do with that tantalizing sight, he thought, seeing his detective from a whole new perspective. Who would've thought that he's so insatiable? Even as he thought that, he realized that that must have to do with the mark he had left on Carisi, because he felt its pull as well.
Now that Carisi knelt before him, presenting his ass as if that was the most normal thing in the world, Barba could not hold out any longer. Grabbing the detective by the hips, he pulled him in backwards, getting him into his lap.
"I meant it," Barba murmured, his tone all seductive. "Come get it."
"What do you..." There Carisi trailed off, sensing the heat brush against his buttocks, the hands on his sides, and the need boiling within. Without giving it much thought, he ground himself against Barba, seeking pressure. Finding the firm shaft, he pushed, at first without success, but with his lover's assistance, he managed to take the tip in. Trembling heavily with lust, Carisi pushed slowly. His breath wheezed in and out with his slow pursuit in impaling himself on Barba's flesh. Once fully sheathed, he was bathed in sweat and quivering. For a moment, he paused, catching his breath...
...then he thrusted, first slow, then picking up a feral rhythm, pushing and pushing until his prostate got hit again.
Carisi felt as if he was burning alive as he neared completion, and when he finally crested, he broke down in the cushions in a trembling heap.
Barba felt equally spent. On all fours, he crawled to lie next to Carisi. When the younger man rolled onto his side to look at him, Barba found the mark on his chest. By all appearance, it seemed to have healed, the impression now light with scar tissue. The spot where his tooth had pierced the skin shone in a bright white.
Instinctively, Barba reached out to touch it.
"You can feel it, too, right?" Carisi mumbled.
Yes, he could. The scar felt smooth under his fingertips, but it was an invisible tether that connected them.
"Yeah, we're bonded now," Barba replied. "It's... strange, but also... comforting."
"Yeah..."
Putting his hand on Barba's chest, Carisi closed his eyes and turned his focus inward. Both their scents had mingled to one now, he could hear Barba's heartbeat, and sensed the older man's devotion as if it was his own emotion.
No matter what he had become when Barba had bitten him, Sonny Carisi was content right then. Finally, he had found his destiny and was proud to say that Rafael Barba owned him.
The End