"Is that my shirt?" :D muah, bewitch me with them words girl....
Each time Rafael left Sonny alone in his apartment the detective would use the time to investigate the contents of the prosecutors walk in. From soft cashmere jumpers which Rafael rarely wore to his large array of crisply pressed shirts to his freshly laundered suits each item was special, unique. His clothes were a thing of beauty and Sonny loved to touch and explore each and every item.
Soon touching them wasn’t enough, Sonny had to know what they felt like against his own skin. One morning he borrowed one of Rafael’s shirts and hid it in his own cupboard at home. He would look at it occasionally and caress the soft fabric with his fingers, not yet brave enough to try it on.
When the shirt finally did grace his slender frame it was by accident, Sonny had pulled an all nighter and had run home to grab a change of clothes. He didn’t realise his mistake until Rafael walked into the precinct and gave Sonny a dirty look. He stormed into Benson’s office leaving Sonny to slowly realise why he was on the receiving end of a patented Barba glare.
Eventually Rafael finished up with the Lieutenant and summoned Sonny into an empty meeting room. Sonny wasn’t given a moment to breathe. “Is that my shirt?”
Sonny nodded and attempted an apology, but Rafael cut him off. “It looks good on you detective.” Sonny blushed a quick thank you before Rafael continued. “I think it would look better off you.”
Sonny surged forward and captured his lovers mouth with his own. As he felt Rafael’s hands make quick work of unbuttoning the shirt he grinned to himself, he was a lucky man. And when those same hands moved to his fly Sonny’s head begun to spin, a very lucky man.