SVU SMUT & PREFERENCES

Nick Amaro/Rafael Barba

all credits to @/PajamaSecrets

"Please," Nick begs.

He stands in the doorway of Rafael's apartment, his breath sticking in the air in paper-white puffs. His arms wrap tightly against his chest. His eyes are red with the effort of holding back tears.

"Detective," Rafael says, hand lingering on the doorknob, staring at the man before him.

"I'm sorry, I— my wife—" Nick starts, choking on the words. He breathes, and tries again. "I can't go to Liv or, Aman—Rollins, I mean—"

"Amaro," Rafael says, "It's okay."

He must look pitiful, standing there, pleading for shelter from his colleague whom he hardly knows. But Rafael does not seem angry. He gestures for Nick to come in.

They move in silence.

Rafael slips Nick's coat off his shoulders and hangs it up in the main entrance of his apartment. Nick wanders, unsteady on his feet, until he finds a couch. He sits, and drags one hand along his face. Nick hasn't slept in ages, or shaved. His chin and cheeks are dusted with uneven scruff. He feels the stubble scratch against his palm.

A hand rests gently on Nick's shoulder. Nick turns to see Rafael with a blanket under his arm. Nick hadn't even noticed Rafael leave the room.

Rafael sets the blanket down on the edge of the couch.

"I'm sorry," Nick says again.

Rafael shakes his head. "Stop apologizing," he says. "No se preocupe."

Nick looks up at Rafael and gives a little smile that doesn't reach his eyes. In the process, he notices Rafael isn't wearing his usual attire. A white t-shirt is tucked into his slacks, and his suspenders are off his shoulders, hanging down past his hips. Despite the absence of a dress shirt and jacket, Rafael still carries himself with the same amount of authority and grace.

Nick suddenly feels very self-conscious.

"Um... Do you have an extra razor? I think I need a shave," Nick laughs shakily. He probably looks like a wreck. He feels like a wreck.

Rafael nods. "Bathroom is right there," he says, nodding. "First door on your left. Razors are in the second drawer down."

"Thank you," Nick says.

The bathroom is small, just like any other Manhattan apartment. Various bottles are neatly lined up next to the sink. Hair products, deodorant. None of it very fancy, except for one bottle of cologne, which looks extremely fancy.

Nick opens the second drawer down. Lo and behold, two extra shaving razors. They are the relatively fancy kind as far as disposable razors go, the kind with a ridiculous amount of blades that cost like 12 bucks at the pharmacy. Nick takes one and sets it down on the counter.

He splashes some water on his face, and wonders if it's weird to use another man's shaving cream. He decides it is, and settles for shaving dry.

He's about halfway down one cheek when he nicks himself. He curses and drops the razor in the sink.

He can't pick up the razor. His hands are trembling too much. Thinking of Maria and Zara and fucking California and how it's all his fault.

Nick isn't sure how much time has passed when he hears a knock on the door.

"Amaro?"

Nick clears his throat, brought back to the present by the sound of Rafael's voice. "Yeah," Nick responds, his voice breaking.

Rafael opens the door and takes a long look at the man in front of him. His expression softens.

Rafael picks up the can of shaving cream off the counter and lathers some up in his hands. He applies it gently but efficiently to Nick's face.

Nick closes his eyes. It feels good. Comforting.

Nick hears the sink running. The razor runs across his face in even strokes.

The sink turns off, and Nick feels a warm cloth on his skin, presumably to clean away any excess shaving cream. Rafael is very thorough. Nick smiles.

"There," Rafael says softly. "All done."

Nick opens his eyes. Rafael stands so close to him, he can feel his breath hot against his neck.

"Thank you," Nick says, voice hushed.

Nick leans forward, then hesitates. Rafael doesn't move away. Nick tilts his head down and lets his lips brush against Rafael's.

Rafael clutches onto Nick's sleeve and takes in a quiet breath.

"Is this okay?" Nick whispers, bringing a hand up to touch Rafael's cheek.

Rafael nods, and that's all that Nick needs.

Nick surges against Rafael, kissing him with urgency. His hands wander from Rafael's cheeks to his neck before they settle on his hips, pulling them forward. Nick licks into his mouth, and Rafael moans, and it's the sweetest thing Nick has ever heard.

It feels so good, and Nick is too hot and entirely too sweaty, and he doesn't know if he should take his clothes off or let Rafael take the lead. But he delights in the feeling of his now-smooth cheek against Rafael's neck as he places a kiss there, the little noises Rafael makes.

"Are you sure," Rafael rushes out, trying to catch his breath. Nick rests their foreheads together.

"Please," Nick says.

"Have you ever..." Rafael starts.

"Not since college," Nick laughs nervously. "I'm sorry, I—"

"It's okay," Rafael says. He puts his arms around Nick's waist. "Let me take care of you."