#amarobarba

What was this, the…fifth time? Yeah, probably. Amaro thought so, at least, as he drove himself home. This time, though, it actually sounded like Liv meant business. Like the past four or so times, Amaro had lost his cool and lashed out. Which would have been no big deal, that is, if he hadn’t clocked little, fresh-from-homicide Sonny Carisi right in the eye after he’d—Amaro now understood—rationally disagreed about an aspect of the case they were discussing. But really though, who was he, this little punk, brand new to SVU, to tell him what the rapist could have possibly wanted out of the victim besides sex? Regardless of whether Carisi was actually right, Liv sent Amaro home and told him she would decide tonight what the consequences would be for bruising that pasty kid’s skin.

It was only just turning 5:00 when Amaro nearly passed the pizza place down the street from his apartment and remembered he’d put off lunch that day, and decided to pick up something to eat. It wasn’t until later that night (after his footlong sub, doritos, and maybe a couple too many beers) that Liv finally called to tell him they’d decided to suspend him without pay. Again. In addition, she recommended he attend anger management classes. Again. Pressing the “END” button perhaps a little harder than necessary, Amaro leaned back on his couch and processed what he’d just been told. Though she’d threatened it quite a few times, Liv had only actually suspended him without pay once before, and it was hell. For some reason, Amaro made the stupid decision not to pick up some menial job for the time of his leave, and instead decided to go on a two-week bender, leaving him with no money for the following two weeks, and making him dip much too far into his already slim savings. This time, he wouldn’t let that happen. He needed to find a decent-paying job, and fast. It didn’t really matter what exactly the job was, but Amaro would rather it not be anything that could possibly send him into another rage and get him into more trouble.

As the night went on and he flipped through the channels on his modestly-sized TV, Amaro decided it was a waste trying to find something he actually wanted to watch, and settled on We’re the Millers airing on some obscure movie channel Amaro didn’t even know he got. Jennifer Aniston was hot in that strip club scene, and, though Amaro wouldn’t admit it, Jason Sudeikis (despite the long hair in the beginning) was his usual adorable self. Whether it was the fact that he was actually enjoying the movie, the beers he continued to knock back, or a combination of both, Amaro realized the type of job he should look for during his time off. Yup. He was going to become a stripper.

Why the fuck not, honestly? It was good money, relatively easy work as long as he stayed away from the pole, and he was hot enough, right? Quickly, Amaro decided he would look for a job the next morning. With a final beer, Amaro finished the movie and headed to bed.

As it turned out, finding a job when you’re available to a strip club anytime day or night is pretty easy. Or maybe it was just that the owner at the first place took a liking to Amaro and how he looked in the leopard print undies. Even though he would only be working there for a few weeks, the owner was also more than happy to set up a regular schedule and note that Amaro was welcome back any time he needed a little extra work, because he was sure the audience would love him.

As it also turned out, the audience did love him, and Amaro ended up pulling in twice the cash he’d expected to. In just a few days, Amaro made enough money to last him at least the two weeks Liv told him he’d be off work, but he figured he might as well keep working and stash the extra in the bank. Amaro also discovered after the first few days that he really enjoyed the work. A new crowd every night, good money, and the ability to just relax and let go allowed Amaro to forget all the shit from work and just have fun for once. Knowing he was unlikely to see anyone he knew, Amaro felt able to let loose and get a little more in touch with his sexuality.

One night seemed to fade into the next and before he knew it, Amaro had already worked for a week and a half. Like the past nine or so nights, Amaro go ready in the back and talked to a couple of the other dancers he’d become friends with before heading out—clad in just a bow tie and short shorts under his tear-off trousers and button down—to do his set. With a bright spotlight, Amaro stepped onto the stage and thrust his hips with the music as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and scanned the crowd. He recognized a couple of people from the previous Saturday night, but other than that, the house seemed packed with fresh faces and full wallets. Just as he was pulling open the third button and finishing his glance around the room, Amaro felt a jolt in his body and nearly froze despite the upbeat music still urging his muscles to move. Realizing he’d stilled his movements, Amaro tried to resume dancing while still keeping his eyes locked on whatever he thought he’d seen, waiting for the rotating light in the ceiling to come back around and illuminate it. After what felt like an eternity in just the undoing of a couple more buttons, light shone where Amaro’s eyes were glued, and lit up none other than Sonny Carisi.

As soon as he met his stare, Amaro looked away and tried to focus on the other people in the crowd. What the fuck could he possibly be doing here? Did he want to embarrass Amaro, or just show him how the handiwork to his face was coming along? (It actually didn’t look so bad – just a light purplish haze underneath his eye, and a clearly unbroken nose. Amaro wondered if he should’ve hit him harder.) Amaro hoped Sonny was just there to see the other guys dance and he didn’t specifically come to see him, but the way he kept his hard gaze fixed on Amaro wasn’t too reassuring. Nevertheless, Amaro decided he should try to be professional (in this case, indulging the rest of the audience in teasingly slow clothing removal and swivels of his hips) and forget about the man sitting half in the shadows.

As much as he tried to focus on what he was doing (and the bills being shoved into his shorts once he went down on the floor), Amaro still felt Carisi’s stare burning his skin like he was holding a magnifying glass over him on a summer afternoon. As difficult as it would be for him to admit, Amaro was a little intimidated by Carisi. Sure, he was younger and newer and looked like he’s never lifted a single thing in his entire life, but Amaro still saw him as a threat. After all, coming back to work after being demoted only to find a new guy took over your job while you were away is a reasonable cause for concern. That doesn’t necessarily mean Amaro should have punched him in the face, but it’s a good enough excuse, right? The only problem is, now the rest of the gang might actually take a liking to Carisi over him, and find an excuse to replace him for good. Plus, now that Detective Toothpick Arms decided to show up at his (albeit, temporary) workplace, who knows what he really wants from him. Luckily, Amaro got a break after his first act so he could change and get some water (and of course, pull out some of the money from his too-tight shorts), so he wouldn’t have to deal with Carisi for a little while.

After he finished his set and helped introduce some of the guys to come out after him, Amaro practically rushed backstage toward the communal dressing room to clear his head. He chugged down a bottle of water to replace what the bright lights pulled out of him and thought about what he’d need to do when his break is over in now 18 minutes. Tonight, all he needed to do was work the tables and do some lap dances whenever someone requested. The work was easy enough, but it also put him closer to possibly interacting with Carisi, which could prove to be risky. For a minute, Amaro considered asking to switch and be a part of the group act later on so he’d have less of a chance of Carisi cornering him, until he remembered his boss explicitly telling him he needed to work the floor because two of his fellow dancers mysteriously got sick at the same time.

Unfortunately, it looked like he was stuck. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. Maybe he could just ignore Carisi and get on with his night. When the owner came over with a special request from one of the tables, though, Amaro felt his anxiety rise and fill his chest.

A short, round, balding man, Mr. Quinn peered up at Amaro through his equally round glasses and told him to where he was to report. “Table 43 put in a special request just for you, Nick,” he said simply, his scratchy voice a little too casual.

“Wait, which one?” How was Amaro supposed to remember all table numbers after only being there for a week and a half? He’d never even heard anyone mention a “Table 43,” but now he was being called to it. “Can you just point it out to me?”

The two quickly walked the short way to the backstage where you could just see the tables on one side if you knew where to stand and what curtains to move. With a thick finger, the owner pointed out the table that had requested Amaro specifically. “He said he’d pay extra, just for you. Must’ve liked what he saw, hmm?” Quinn went for a nudge with his elbow which Amaro was too lost in thought to dodge.

Amaro didn’t know what to make of all this. If it were an accident and Carisi was just looking for a good time and they just ran into each other, that would be one thing. But Carisi specifically came here to see Amaro, and now he wanted to make his presence known. Whatever he wanted from Amaro, it didn’t matter, because soon it would be over and he would be a few dollars richer. When Amaro didn’t respond to Quinn’s nudge and comment, he awkwardly looked at the watch around his pudgy wrist and notified Amaro of his dwindling time. Rushing back to his station in the dressing room, Amaro pulled on his next costume (if you could call it that – it was merely a purple speedo-style brief which complimented him in more than one way) and checked himself in the mirror. He looked great, admittedly, but a slight blush colored his cheeks whose source Amaro couldn’t seem to place.

For this act, there was no big entrance or special music, and Amaro just had to stroll over to Carisi and be professional. The quicker he went out there, the quicker it could be over, so Amaro stopped stalling and headed over to Carisi’s table. Why he decided to pick the most dimly-lit table he could, Amaro didn’t know (and tried not to worry about it), but he focused on trying to put on a good show regardless of the atmosphere and who would be the recipient.

Once close enough to see him, Amaro noticed that instead of his usual button down, tie, and fitted trousers he’d seen him in the short time they worked together, Carisi was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans. Surprised to find this new look weirdly appealing, Amaro quickly denounced it, thinking What does he think he is, a farmer? as he got closer to him. He could also see the small smile on Carisi’s face that to anyone else might look gentle and sweet, but to Amaro, somehow looked harsh and condescending. Either way, Amaro closed the gap between them and sauntered up to him, putting his hands on his hips when he stood close enough to touch him.

“Surprised to see you here,” Amaro said flatly over the background music.

Carisi looked amused and pulled a wad of folded bills out of his pocket, beckoning Amaro closer. When he dropped his hands but stayed rooted to the ground, Carisi put a hand on Amaro’s hip and pulled him closer, forcing him to straddle his legs. Stumbling, Amaro half fell into Carisi’s lap and instinctively grabbed onto his shoulder for support before realizing what he’d done. Avoiding Carisi’s smirk, Amaro adjusted and moved his hand to the back of Carisi’s chair and hovered over his lap. When he started dancing, Carisi unfolded the cash and stuck a single dollar under Amaro’s waistband, making sure to brush his fingers on Amaro’s hip when he pulled away.

“A friend from homicide told me they saw you here,” Carisi said in a relatively quiet voice. “Guess I had to see it for myself…” Carisi’s eyes glanced down Amaro’s chest and abdomen, suddenly making him feel incredibly underdressed. Turning around so he wouldn’t have to see Carisi’s eyes skating all over him, Amaro showed off his ass, making sure to put on a good show. After all, that’s technically what Carisi was paying for, and if he could sexually frustrate him in any way, that couldn’t hurt either. “How long are you working?”

Carisi stuck another bill under the band of Amaro’s speedo and Amaro pushed back into the touch before answering. “Just until I can go back to work in a few days,” he called back to Carisi, trying to sound calmer than he was. “The money’s good here, but I couldn’t stay.”

Laughing quietly, Carisi pulled another dollar out of the bundle. “No, I mean—” he slipped the bill along with his hand under the back side of the scant purple cloth and held them both there. “—Tonight,” suddenly Carisi squeezed the flesh of Amaro’s ass and sent a jolt through him.

Standing up, Amaro turned around to face Carisi again and saw him laughing and looking even more amused than before. Realizing fully what had happened and that he probably shouldn’t just leave in the middle of a dance, Amaro put his hands on Carisi’s shoulders and straddled him again. Amaro stared at Carisi and made his face look harder than he meant as he tried to read what Carisi’s intentions were.

“I’m not mad, I hope you know,” Carisi said, looking up at Amaro. He pointed to the shadow of a bruise clinging to his skin even in the dim light. “About this, I mean.”

“That’s good to hear.” If Carisi thought he was getting even the slightest hint of an apology, he had another thing coming. Amaro glanced to a spot on the wall behind Carisi and lowered himself to just a teasing inch above his lap.

“I actually tried to get Liv to change her mind about the leave,” he admitted. “But the best I could do was get it down to two weeks from three.”

Amaro looked Carisi in the eyes again. They looked gorgeously blue with blown pupils, which Amaro couldn’t decide were from the dimness of the light, or something else. “And why would you do that?”

“Guess I didn’t think the punishment fit the crime,” Carisi answered, looking up at him. “I mean, yeah, you can be an asshole sometimes, but really? You didn’t even break my nose – I don’t think that warrants a two week unpaid leave.”

“Well, thank you, I guess.” Amaro thanked him, but still tried to hide any actual signs of gratitude.

Smirking, Carisi slid another bill under the top of Amaro’s underwear. “You’re welcome,” he replied, making sure to drag his fingertips along Amaro’s lower abs before sliding them down one of his thighs. A chill travelled down Amaro’s back and he bit his lip to try to focus on anything besides Carisi’s gentle touch.

“You never answered me, you know,” Carisi said with a half-smile Amaro wanted to hate.

“What do you mean?” Amaro found himself genuinely confused, distracted by Carisi’s hand resting above his knee.

“You never told me what time you get off tonight,” he answered, slightly massaging the outside of Amaro’s thigh and looking up at him with a smile that had more hidden behind it than Carisi let on.

Amaro gave him a sarcastic laugh in return, but decided to tell him regardless. “About an hour. Saturday’s a busy night so everyone wants to work it, and since I’ve been here every night, they decided to cut my time.”

Shoving the slightly smaller ball of money in his front shirt pocket, Carisi brought his other hand to Amaro’s free thigh and slowly moved toward Amaro’s hips. “You know, I heard about you, when I first came to SVU,” Carisi admitted quietly, his eyes sliding over Amaro’s chest and abs before glancing down to the purple material barely covering him. “But I gotta say, the rumors do not do you justice.”

Amaro unwillingly blushed and cupped the back of Carisi’s neck, just enough to tease another reaction out of him. Unsure of what he really wanted, Amaro let Carisi take some control in the situation. This whole thing could easily end in a few minutes, and they could easily part ways and return to work as usual in a few days, and Amaro would be fine with that. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself. The dimness of the light hiding their movements, Amaro slipped his fingers into Carisi’s hair and thrust his hips above him. The almost too gentle touch seeming to set him off, Carisi pressed his fingertips into Amaro’s hips and pulled him down to grind against him.

Gasping quietly at the sudden contact, Amaro pulled back and stood up straight again. He looked for something to say and found nothing coming to his mind or his lips as Carisi pulled out the slightly crumpled ball of cash and stuck it in the front of Amaro’s briefs. A tingle in Amaro’s gut and chest made him almost shrink away from the feeling of money suddenly bunched up against him. Opening his mouth for words that still would not come, Amaro stared confused at Carisi’s smug face before simply turning and walking away.

He didn’t know what to make of the situation but one thing was for sure: he needed to get this money out of his underwear ASAP. Amaro made his way backstage again and promptly pulled the bills out before covering up. Curious to see what Carisi gave him, he counted up the money and found the other detective had shoved nearly $100 in his pants. Pulling on the pair of jeans he’d arrived in, Amaro stared at the crumpled dollars on the makeup table in the dressing room and decided he would use the excuse of not feeling well to go home early. Besides, someone would surely be happy to take over for him on such a busy night, so it shouldn’t be a problem. The only thing would be how he’d actually get out of there without being seen by Carisi. Regardless of where Quinn was (as he’d need to tell him he was leaving), he’d still need to walk through the main area to get out as there isn’t a back door from where he was. Maybe if he just stuck to the opposite side of the room, he could escape without being seen or causing too much of a stir.

Gathering up the money and pulling on a sweatshirt, Amaro found Quinn backstage and told him his fib, even faking a cough before sneaking across the floor and snaking between tables. As soon as the cool breeze of outside hit his face, Amaro felt a weight lift from him and took a deep breath. Sure he’d shaken Carisi off his heels, he sucked in the refreshing air and walked quickly yet calmly down the sidewalk to his car parked a couple blocks away. As soon as he made it to the first alleyway, though, Amaro felt a pull on the back of his sweatshirt and (despite his years on the police force) before he could properly react, he was thrown against the brick of the alley wall, Carisi pressing against him forcefully. Meaning to ask what the fuck Carisi thought he was doing, Amaro parted his lips, and seemingly urged him on. Within a second, Carisi’s lips were on him in a pressuring kiss as his hands roamed from Amaro’s shoulders to his waist, still holding him against the wall.

Initially, Amaro kept still with shock until something snapped in him and he kissed him back, shoving his hands into Carisi’s hair and licking into his mouth. Covered by the darkness of the alley, both of them let go and kissed each other like they’d been starving for it. Pulling gently on the hair between his fingers, Amaro pressed closer and Carisi groaned into his mouth to egg him on. It was fast and rough, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Amaro did have to admit, though, that Carisi could be much more dominant than he gave him credit for just by looking at him. Breaking away from the kiss slightly, Carisi pulled Amaro’s bottom lip between his teeth and pushed their hips together, eliciting a small moan from him and earning another tug of his hair. Kissing him deeply again, Carisi rocked against Amaro, the older detective feeling a tightness in his already fitted speedo garment just from Carisi’s movements.

When Amaro whined quietly against Carisi’s mouth, he pulled away and made Amaro look him in the eyes. “Come home with me,” he whispered, half of his face slightly illuminated by the lights from the street.

Pausing to think, Amaro looked into Carisi’s eyes and decided a little too quickly. “Okay.”