The stand. You’d never liked it. Though you had practiced your testimony with ADA Barba multiple times you still felt nervous. You weren’t sure what exactly was making you so anxious, but you knew part of it was him. His gaze was intense and piercing, his eyes rarely left you as you rehearsed over and over. His posture was confident and sure, his shoulders broad and his chest wide.
You found yourself daydreaming of what it must be like to run your hand over his suit jacket, to feel the warmth of his body against the skin of your palm.
“And at anytime during discovery did you leave the scene?” His voice did little to silence your fantasies, rather it made you wonder what words he would speak as you did unspeakable things to him.
“Miss. Y/L/N.”
You shook yourself to attention when you realized he was addressing you and you were expected to speak back.
“Sorry…yes…I mean no, no I did not leave the scene.” You spoke, your breathing a little out of wack and rhythm of response a little off.
“Do you need to take a break?” He asked furrowing his brow in slight confusion and concern.
“No…I’m fine. Thank you.”
Rafael Barba nodded slightly and gave you a flash of a smile before resuming your rehearsal. Back and forth, he asked, you responded. With every question you noticed something new, somehow sexier than your previous discovery. God his hands, you could see his pulse throb through them as he leaned against the stand, pretending to face the jury while he asked you to describe the eyewitness accounts of the assailant.
You had only been working for SVU for a few weeks. And of course your first major case had been a near catastrophic disaster. Someone (most likely the serial rapist Gregory O’Mally) had lit the records room on fire in the basement of city hall, destroying thousands of files and documents. The fire would have destroyed the incriminating papers and photos you needed to charge Gregory O’Mally but as luck would have it, you had checked out the documents only thirty minutes before the first flames flickered. O’Mally had committed a horrific series of violent rapes, killing two of the victims only after posing them in lewd positions symbolizing the seven deadly sins.
It was a big case.
Now you were being called to testify for the first time on a case you had worked so intimately. So much was your responsibility, you couldn’t afford to get anything wrong.
Again and again, he prepped you, and after an hour had passed you wondered if he spent this long prepping all of his witnesses. He had taken off his suit jacket and was striding slowly back and forth between one of the counsel tables and the stand. His pants fit him perfectly, they might have even been on the tight side. You thought you could see a hint of the outline of his briefs and you wondered how tight those were, and what all they contained.
What was wrong with you? You were a detective in the Special Victims Unit, and yet you were sitting here objectifying and fantasizing about your ADA’s tight ass as it flexed in synch with his pace.
When he announced that it was over, and you were sufficiently prepped you sighed both in relief that you could leave the stand, and in dissatisfaction that you wouldn’t be able to gaze at him lecherously any longer. You walked to where you had laid your coat on the separation bannister and sighed once more, wondering if you would ever be lucky enough to spend time alone with him again.
“Would you mind answering one more question?” Barba’s voice was suddenly much closer and you turned quickly to see him stood only a few inches away.
“Oh…no, sure…what is it?” You spoke your voice slightly shaky at his proximity.
“Do I have something on my pants?” Barba couldn’t hide his slight smirk as it ate it’s way into his face, pushing away the frown lines that often resided there.
