SVU SMUT & PREFERENCES

Nick Amaro/Rafael Barba

all credits to @/bananapatch on archive of our own. this is not my work, the amazing author wrote this.

"No te equivoque conmigo." Rafael looks Detective Amaro dead in the eye before he begins to step out of the elevator, relieved that their little exchange is finally over. He's considerably less thrilled about his upcoming meeting with the DA, but he's fairly certain that's going to be a walk in the park compared to being trapped in here with the detective, with the feeling of his breath against his face and the sharp smell of his aftershave and that goddamn infuriatingly smug quality to his voice. Mostly, he's relieved not to have to spend another second trying to ignore the strange flutter in his gut that pops up whenever Amaro gets too close.

Even if he was dead wrong about Rafael's motivations for protecting Muñoz, Amaro had managed to slither his way under his skin.

"I didn't say we were done here, Counselor."

Rafael halts when he feels Amaro's fingers squeeze around his upper arm, sudden and forceful and sending a shiver down his spine that he struggles not to let show. He turns just enough to cock an eyebrow at the detective, but otherwise doesn't move a muscle. "Oh?"

Of course, Rafael's muttered semi-question is purely rhetorical. He knows what this is really about. It has nothing to do with Muñoz, or the case at all for that matter. He knew it from the moment Amaro had followed him onto this elevator, although he isn't about to give that away; if Amaro wants this, he's going to have to work for it.

"No. See, I don't think you get it. Pero me aseguraré de que usted lo hace."

Rafael keeps his mouth shut as he's pulled back into the elevator, which is so rare for him it's practically newsworthy. But he's too stunned to do much else as the door closes behind him again, as Amaro presses the emergency stop button and – to Rafael's dismay – the elevator does, indeed, stop.

"Really, Detective? Stopping an elevator? That's a touch cliche, don't you think?"

So much for keeping his mouth shut.

His remark doesn't get the rise out of Amaro that he was hoping it would, though. In fact, it doesn't earn him much of anything. The detective is just standing there, staring at him with an expression that Rafael can't read. He adjusts his tie, clears his throat, drops his gaze down to the floor, anything to avoid acknowledging the detective; not being able to read people has always made him immensely uncomfortable.

"Look, I don't know how many times I can say it. Whatever you think is happening with me and Muñoz is not happening. Así que es hora de dejarlo ir."

Rafael finally forces himself to look to Amaro's face, and he's taken aback by what he sees there now. This isn't the same self-satisfied look that had been etched into his features moments ago. No, there's something undoubtedly nervous and uncertain about his expression now. It isn't a far cry from the look witnesses often give before revealing something they'd been holding back, some crutial piece of information that they know will change everything.

He doesn't get much of a chance to question it, though, as the next thing he knows there's the distinct press of lips against his own and the lapels of his jacket are being grasped in Amaro's anxious fists, and Rafael can taste the coffee on his breath and his lips are so much softer than he ever would have expected and it's all so much.

Rafael is fairly certain it's the best thing he's ever felt.

It's not long before he's kissing back with equal fervor, his body inching closer and closer to the detective's as if moving of its own accord, and the next thing he knows Amaro is pressed flush against the wall of the elevator. Rafael has to crane his neck to even reach his lips but it doesn't slow him down in the slightest, and the feeling of Amaro's hands sliding down from his lapel to grip his waist only encourages him to push forward.