#marveyficchallenges

[sairyn-noc]

Winning

Harvey came to consciousness slowly. It wasn’t long before he realized every part of him hurt. He attempted to open his eyes, to find out what kind of mess he had gotten himself into this time, but the blinding light and even more blinding pain had him shutting them again quickly. 

“Shit,” he moaned. 

In the millisecond his eyes were open, Harvey determined he was at least home in his own bed. The fact that he was naked and his muscles felt used…, well that was something he would think about later. Much later. Like after he sleeps off the whopper of a hangover he was having. 

“I won,” came a pained voice. 

The words, though muffled, caught Harvey off guard. Crap, there was someone else here. It took him a moment to realize that it was Mike’s voice he heard. Just what the fuck happened last night? 

“Must you be so loud?” Harvey gritted out while he tried to convince his stomach against emptying its contents. 

“I am not being loud. I can be loud. In fact, I am sure you heard me be loud last night. Or was it this morning??” Mike pondered. 

“Stop. Talking,” Harvey spat out. 

“It's not as if you are any condition to do anything about it,” Mike countered.

“Don't think I still can't kick your ass.

“Right now, I bet you can barely move. I think I'll take my chances,” Mike sassed from somewhere in the room.

Harvey lifted his head, intent on getting up in an ...and immediately regretted it. The room tilted sideways and once again, his head landed back on the pillow.

“Just how much did I drink last night?” he asked, avoiding the real question trying to burrow its way through his brain.

“Not as much as me. Hence I won.”

The night came flooding back to Harvey. They were sitting in Harvey’s office trying to work out their most likely appeal. Their star witness fell apart spectacularly on the stand and Harvey knew the case wouldn't go his way. When he heard the news that they had somehow still managed to win, he thought for sure that Jessica was prank calling him. Feeling like he had really just stolen the win, Harvey invited everyone out for drinks. Being that he won against all odds, he invited Louis as well. No reason not to gloat he determined at the time. One drink turned to more than one or two or three, which turned into Mike shooting off his mouth to anyone who would listen that he could outdrink anyone. And Harvey, well Harvey loved proving people wrong. Mike was what, 180 soaking wet? Harvey should've been able to finish him before he even reached his stride. But like every other time he underestimated the mad genius, Mike managed to surprise him. 

Two hours later, Harvey’s tongue felt thick and his words were slow, but Mike didn't seem to be affected. He just kept on talking and drinking. By the time the bar closed, everyone else had been poured into a cab leaving Mike and Harvey alone still verbally sparring.

“You ready to give up, old man?”

“Who you calling old?” Harvey countered.

“Surely you don’t think you could drink more?” Mike asked, surprise lacing his words.

“Is this your way of punking out and giving up? Because if it is, I will gladly accept your surrender,” Harvey gloated smugly.

“Who said anything about surrendering? How about we take this someplace else? Like your condo. That way you can fall into bed when I am done taking you down.”

And just like that, everything changed. In the blink of an eye, what started off as a simple who could outdo who, morphed into something more complicated, more dangerous. Harvey licked his lips instinctively and paused. They were standing close; too close. Harvey could see Mike’s dilated pupils, feel the heat of Mike’s stare as he waited for an answer. He briefly wondered if he should call it a tie and walk away, but the alcohol sloshing through his brain made him bold, made him careless. Why else would he play truth or dare with the one man who reminded him every day of what he desired most, but couldn't (more like shouldn’t) have? Mike was truly his greatest temptation.  

“We will see who is falling over. Follow me,” Harvey uttered.

The next thing Harvey remembered was the taste of his favorite whiskey on Mike’s lips. How Mike had looked at him, his eyes hooded and laced with desire. Harvey never once believed Mike would look at him that way. What happened after that was a blur of sensation. Mike’s hands on his skin as he ‘helped’ Harvey get undressed; the sweet friction they created when they slid their cocks together and the way Mike had writhed beneath him as Harvey thrust into his tight heat over and over. The last thing Harvey’s brain managed to hold onto was the sound of his own name being shouted from Mike’s lips before falling into his own oblivion.

“Fuck…,” Harvey groaned. He stretched out his arm in search of Mike but found the other side of the bed empty.

“Where are you?”

“Down here,” came Mike’s strained answer.

Harvey maneuvered to the edge of the bed slowly; very slowly and peered over.

Mike was lying on the floor, his face shoved into the carpet. He also happened to be completely naked.

“What the hell are you doing down there?” Harvey managed to croak out, his eyes glued to Mike’s pert ass staring up at him like an invitation.

Mike moved like a statue coming to life, slow and awkwardly. Within minutes, or hours, Harvey was looking into Mike’s bloodshot eyes.

“Winning the bet.”

“I don't think getting shitfaced, fucking your boss, then falling out of bed constitutes winning.”

A look of hurt crossed Mike’s features.

“I think repeating it sober a few more times might though.”

[marveyficchallenges]

Challenge #87 - By the Skin Of Our Teeth

by the skin of our teeth

you can interpret this prompt in whichever way you like

you can write anything, from a one-liner to novel-size as long as you’re able to finish it within one month

general fanfic guidelines regarding ratings and warnings apply

no sign-up is required. Just tag your post with #marveyficchallenges as the first tag and we will reblog it.

If  you don’t see you entry reblogged here, feel free to submit it through  the form on our site or drop us a line pointing us towards it. Tags   don’t always work the way they’re supposed to and we’d hate to miss your  contribution!!

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to drop us a message.

PS: I am incredibly sorry for having been unaware until now that there has been a fic posted for the last challenge (SO SORRY, @sairyn-noc!!!) and that I forgot to close the last challenge and post a new masterlist (which is why this is basically a month late). I promise to do better in the future!!! - *hugs* Aqua

[frivoloussuits]

Verdict

“I think we know who the best man is.” “Hm,” Mike corrects just before walking down the aisle, “okay. Good, maybe. Not the best.”

Harvey takes it as a challenge.

Written for @marveyficchallenges, prompt #85: “Witness for the Prosecution.” The fic (plus warnings) is available on AO3.

[loyalty2waystreet]

Happy Stoniversary

by Loyalty2WayStreet

Summary:  Every year, Harvey and Mike indulge in a little tradition. Each year they skirt closer and closer to that invisible line. What happens when they finally cross it?  (Explicit)

Find it on AO3 here.

                                                      5+1 Things

1.  2012

Three things happen when Harvey Specter gets stoned; he loses his inhibitions, becomes very touchy feely and lastly, he gets super horny.  As a rule, he doesn’t get stoned.  But Harvey trusts Mike, and the kids Grammy just died, so he lights the damn joint and smokes up, in a show of support.

Mike has a colourful history with weed, so when he gets stoned, he still gets high, still gets horny and giggles his ass off and maybe gets a little clumsy, but because of his eidetic memory, he can mostly still function as an average human.

It’s Harvey that brings up pissing in somebody’s office, and Mike is delighted.  Stoned Harvey is life, and Mike can’t get enough of him, he thinks this might have been what Harvey was like back in college because he looks and acts so boyishly, a broad grin lighting up his face.  They come up with a plan of attack on Hardman, and Mike volunteers to down the Gatorade.

On their way to the firm, Harvey pulls and pushes Mike around like he’s a toddler, he even reaches across in the cab and fastens his seatbelt.  Mike thinks it’s weird and it must show on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Harvey asks, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Nothing really, you’re just super tactile and very DIY when you’re stoned,” he answered, watching Harvey closely.

Harvey started laughing, and those four perfect creases at the corner of each eye that Mike loves, appear.

“You’re right, that’s pretty much my M.O. when I’m high,” he replied, as he reached over and ruffled Mike’s hair.

They don’t end up pissing in Hardman’s office after all, but they do have another joint and solve the world’s problems laying on the floor under Mike’s cubicle, in the dull light of the bullpen.

Mike’s brain, although slower than usual, comes up with the idea that Hardman faked the document and he rushed to his feet to test his theory.  He forgets he’s under his desk and slams his head into it.  He’s sure he sees yellow canaries flying in circles for about thirty seconds.

“You doing okay there, Rookie?” Harvey says leaning over him and getting right in his face.  Harvey starts stroking his head, and Mike is smiling back at him like an idiot.

Mike thinks Harvey’s giving him heart eyes?  Then he remembers that he’s stoned and that he always thinks everybody loves everybody when he’s high, so he dismisses it.

They confirm Mike’s theory; Hardman very well could have used Donna’s date stamp to fake the document, so they go in search of Hardman’s calendar in the file room.

Mike is flicking through his fifth filing cabinet, thinking about how nice a hot dog would be right about now when Harvey starts dashing toward him.

Mike turns to look at him when he calls out and slams his ribs hard into an open filing cabinet.  He yells out and doubles over in pain holding onto the no doubt bruised area.

“Jesus, Rookie, you’re a bit of a spaz when chemically altered, aren’t you?” Harvey teases, but reaches out to rub Mike’s back and right him against the filing cabinet.

“Let me have a look,” he demands, dropping to his knees and pulling Mike’s shirt up with one hand.

Harvey’s hand is silky but cool, and Mike flinches a little when it touches his skin.  He gently examines the area, lightly running his fingers up over each of Mike’s ribs.

“Just a bruise,” Harvey mutters as he flicks his thumb back and forth over Mike’s left nipple, and then runs his hand down the curve of Mike’s flank.

Mike stops breathing for a second, and Harvey needs to stand up and not have his eyes level with his cock anymore, or it’s going to become very apparent that Mike is enjoying the attention.  Harvey looks up at him then and grins mischievously before he stands.

Mike’s breath whooshes out, and he needs to remind himself that Harvey is touchy-feely when he’s high and that he gets ultra horny.  That’s all this is he assures himself, even if he has catalogued what Harvey looked like on his knees staring up at him with that look, for later.

“I found Hardman’s calendar, the smug bastard knew, and he’s setting me up!” Harvey accused.

“What are we gonna do?”

“Nothing more tonight, let’s go home, we can take the bastard down tomorrow,” He replied, yanking Mike by the sleeve in the direction of the lifts.

2.  2013

“So, it’s been a year since we?” Mike asked making a subtle joint smoking gesture.

Harvey had given him the Friday off as it was the anniversary of Grammy’s death.  He also decided, each year they should keep the tradition up of spending some time together around that time, just to unwind and be present in each other’s lives, even if they did light up and get wasted.  It was cheap therapy.

"It is,” Harvey answered, wiggling his eyebrows with a look of pure ratbag written all over his face.

"Should we maybe?” Mike ventured, trying not to laugh at Harvey’s hysterical boyish grin.

“I think I need to go get a coffee,” Harvey smiled, standing and giving Mike a wink.  “My place at 8ish?”

“Deal,” Mike agreed, trying to hide his excitement at getting another night with ‘high Harvey’.

By 9 pm they are thoroughly off their faces and heading to the firm, coming up with a vague plan to move Louis’s desk and personal belongings down to Paul Porter’s now vacant office on the 46th floor.

"Why does Louis have a picture of Shannon Miller in his office?”  Mike asks, brushing cat hair off his pants.

Harvey laughs and makes a funny snorting sound, “He likes gymnastics almost as much as his precious ballet,” he replies, air quoting the precious to magnify his prognosis; that Louis is weird.

“I did gymnastics when I was little before I started wrestling.” Mike supplied.

Harvey dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“You?” He said chuckling, “I’m sorry, I just imagined you in lycra.”

“Hahaha, I was only 9, and stop imagining me in lycra!”  Mike complained, throwing the picture into the last box.

“I can still do a mean cartwheel.” He bragged, wondering if he should ask Harvey if he kept food in his office, he had the munchies big time.

“Oh come on, that’s gymnastics 101, everyone can do those,” Harvey replied cockily.

“You, Harvey Specter, can cartwheel?” He said disbelievingly, “Prove it!”

Harvey thought it might be a bad idea for a few seconds, that is until he realised that he needed to prove Mike wrong.

“Fine,” Harvey said lifting his hands over his head to stretch, showing off a patch of skin above his hips that Mike found more interesting than he probably should.

He followed Harvey out into the wide hallway and watched as his boss did the most uncoordinated cartwheel in the history of cartwheels, anyone had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.  It was spectacularly shit, he nearly crashed into Donna’s desk and landed on his face.  Mike was laughing so hard he was crying, the laughter doubling him over when he saw Harvey’s solemn face.

“I don’t see you doing any better Rookie?” He challenged, pouting.

At that Mike winked, bent over and touched the floor and then stretched his hands over his head and as far back as he could.  Harvey noted that he was far more flexible than he looked and saved his more detailed thoughts on that for later, right now a challenge had been laid down.

Mike walked away from Harvey and back down the hall, doing his best stick up his ass gymnast impersonation, he pivoted and threw his hands in the air in a V, signalling the start of his routine.  Harvey was staring at him like he’d finally lost his mind.

Mike took off, sprinting like an armed criminal was chasing him and threw himself into the first cartwheel, but to Harvey’s surprise continued tumbling toward him at an alarming rate.  Mike had no idea how close he was to Harvey, and before he could stop they collided in mid-air, Harvey doing his best to grab Mike upright as they crashed to the ground, tangled up together, laughter shaking their bodies.

As they began to untangle themselves, Mike felt the heaviness of Harvey’s hand under his tee shirt; rubbing his belly softly, the searing heat of his hand making Mike shiver.  He put it down to how touchy feely Harvey was when he smoked pot, until the hand moved to rest just above his track pants, thumb rubbing lightly through the course hair, just above the band.  Mike’s pulse started to race, and all his blood rushed south as he swallowed loudly.

At that moment, the lift chimed, indicating its arrival.

“Shit,” Mike said, jumping to his feet, hauling Harvey up with him.

They ran and hid out in the closest office until the coast was clear.

As they left, Mike slapped the sign on Louis’s door.  “This office is marked for deep cleaning; people have complained about a smell of prune and pussy…. cat, kindly report to the 46th floor.“

Laughter was drifting through the halls of Pearson Darby as they left.

3.  2014

Mike had been back at Pearson Specter for three weeks, so it’s very last minute this year when they decide to visit the coffee cart guy on their way out of the office.

With zero inclination to return to Pearson Specter, they instead choose to launch an age old attack on Louis’s front yard.

"How much toilet paper do we need?” Harvey asked, migrating toward a large pack of thirty.

“I know this might surprise you Harvey, but I’m a teepeeing virgin,” Mike replied, a roguish smile on his face, “This pack should do,” he says, picking up a dodgy looking carton of thirty.

“That’s one ply,” Harvey complained, “I’m not throwing cheap toilet paper, I’m still classy.” He whined, doing an overexaggerated frown.

“You’re ridiculous!” Mike said, rolling his eyes as he picked up the expensive looking embossed three ply and threw it into the trolley.

“Let’s get some snacks,” Harvey suggested, jumping on the front of the trolley and pointing to the potato crisp aisle like he had spotted an island from a crow’ nest.

Two hours, four drinks and another joint later, Harvey Specter is giggling and throwing toilet paper over trees at 1 am in the morning.  Mike thinks this is the best day of his life.  He hits record on his iPhone, to get some video footage so that he can remember the joyous look on Harvey’s face as he desecrates Louis’ front lawn with toilet paper.  He might also use it to get a raise.

Mike pockets his phone and makes for the unused pile of toilet rolls, but in the process neglects to see a scary looking garden gnome in his path before it connects with his big toe.

“AWW FUCK!” He swears, forgetting what he’s doing momentarily until the next door neighbour’s dog starts going apeshit.

Security light flicks on, and Harvey sprints to Mike and grabs him, hauling him up and behind a tree out of sight just as Louis appears on the front porch.  Well, they think it’s Louis.  Someone with worse fashion sense than a Sacha Baron Cohen character, is wearing a size too small maroon Harvard onesie, fluffy slippers that look like cats, with some giant teeth whitening contraption in their mouth, looking like they’re about to blow a gasket.

“Jesus, my eyes.  No way Harvard sells those!” Harvey muttered, snickering.

“Oh my god, are those- “

“Stay still, or he’ll see us,” Harvey whispers into his ear as he presses Mike against the tree from behind.

Harvey’s dick is lined up with his crack, and he can feel every breath against his skin as Harvey breathes into his neck.  Harvey rolls his hips just enough that Mike knows even in his stoned haze that it’s happening, Harvey is rubbing his cock against his ass, and he is fucking turned on by it.  It seems ironic that he is a hardwood sandwich at that moment and he can’t contain himself and starts chuckling.  Harvey clamps a hand over his mouth.

Louis must hear the chuckle because he is irate and yelling about calling the police and getting a restraining order against his neighbour who Mike seems to recall killed Louis’s lawn on purpose when he last went to Boston.

A porch light flicks on across the street and a grumpy balding man steps out onto the veranda.

“Litt, what the fuck is going on?”

Mike and Harvey still and peer around the tree.  A visible trail of drool follows the whitening contraption out of Louis’s mouth.  Mike makes a gagging sound, and Harvey shoves his face into Mike’s neck, muffling his laughter.

“Don’t you bullshit me, Wayne, I know you did this,” Louis rages, “This time I’m calling the police, they have fingerprinting and shit these days, asshole!”

As he turns to go inside and make the call, they make their escape, running and giggling down the street like teenagers.

4.  2015

Jack Soloff had been coming at Harvey and messing with his salary, and Mike had just witnessed one of Harvey’s panic attacks when that time of the year came around again. “Maybe we should just give it a miss this year?” Mike suggested as they sat side by side in the office, giving Harvey an out if he needed it. “No, if anything I think I need a night out of my head right now.  Besides, it’s one of my favourite times of the year,” Harvey disclosed smiling for the first time in weeks as he recalled all their shenanigans. “You decide the what; I’ll supply the pot.” Harvey continued, giving Mike a wink. “Okay, rhyme time,” Mike replied standing, “I’m on it.  You want something low key that will piss Jack off.  Easy.” Harvey didn’t care what they did if he was with Mike.  He just wanted to forget about how alone he felt and how upset he’d gotten at the thought that Mike might leave him. Mike knew Jack was a proud man, so he figured something simple, that would dent that pride, would do the trick.  All it took was a quick call to Benjamin and an internet search for a wedding supplies shop.

_

When Harvey arrived at Mike’s apartment a day later and noticed the two blow up dolls on the couch, he had cause for concern.

“Tell me you’re not having a dry spell so bad you’ve had to resort to this?”

“Very funny old timer,” Mike snarked, grabbing two beers from the fridge and handing one over to Harvey, “Actually they’re participating in tonight’s festivities.”

“I’m a forty-year-old professional Mike, I’m-”

“Forty? Rounding down much?” Mike snorted, dodging out of Harvey’s reach, “Roll us a joint before your 50th birthday will you!”

Harvey narrowed his eyes, “Are you teasing me, because you like me, Mike?”

Mike stiffened, then relaxed when his brain caught up and he realised Harvey was joking.

“I like da weed, and you have da weed, man.” he deflected, nailing the accent.

At 1 am, two very stoned professional lawyers were seen climbing into a cab accompanied by two blow up dolls.  Apparently, Harvey’s standards had plummeted down to his expensive, well-polished shoes.  They received some very odd looks from the taxi driver, and if Harvey weren’t named partner, the security guards probably would have frisked them.

Once in Soloff’s office, they started to arrange the blow-up dolls in a compromising position bent over the couch.

“I forgot the sticky tape,” Mike giggled, “This one needs to be stuck down, so it bends over, see?”

Harvey snorted, “There’s some in my top left drawer if you must position them like that!”

“Sweet,” Mike called, heading out the door only to find Jack at the end of the hallway, talking on his phone, heading straight toward his office and them.

Mike commando dived back into the office.

“Shit, he’s coming.”

“Who’s coming?”  Harvey asked confused, looking out toward the darkened hallway and hearing a quiet voice talking in the distance.  His eyes grew wide.

“Grab the stuff, get behind the couch now!” He whispered, gesturing wildly.

Mike grabbed the dolls, Harvey grabbed the bag, and they both dived over the couch, Mike landing first, and Harvey landing on top of him, just as Jack walked through the door.

“Don’t move,” Harvey mouthed, lips inches from Mike’s face.

If they moved, no doubt something would make a noise, so they are stuck in this position, Harvey’s body covering Mike’s, with two blow up dolls and a bag alongside them.

The first five minutes were fun, Harvey was trying not to laugh, and Mike could feel his body shaking with the effort.  Mike enjoyed the weight of Harvey on top of him, though he would never admit that little gem out loud.

Jack was on the phone to Hardman for ten minutes before he hung up, but instead of leaving he started to write what sounded like an essay.

Fifteen minutes in and Mike’s limbs were starting to go to sleep, so he subtly tried to move, resulting in his hips thrusting upward ever so slightly, Harvey looked amused and started making suggestive faces like Mike was purposely trying to grind against him.  He wasn’t.  Well not really.

At twenty-five minutes, Harvey had started tracing circles with his nose on Mike’s cheeks and puffing hot air onto his face.  Mike was in hell and constantly thinking of Louis mudding to stave off the twitching going on below.

At thirty-five minutes, Harvey started rutting against him on purpose.  Mike whimpered, then froze when Jack’s typing abruptly stopped, and they heard the creak of his chair as he got up.  They held their breath as footsteps made their way toward them.

Then the lamp was switched off, and the door closed behind him.  In unison, the breath whooshed out of them.  Harvey didn’t immediately move to get off.

“Didn’t think this night would involve a four-way behind a couch,” Harvey said, grinning down at him.

“If that excites you so much, I can buy you a deluxe model for your 50th,” Mike quipped, sitting up with Harvey still straddling him, refusing to move.

“Reading people is my job Rookie, you loved every minute of that,” he replied smugly, finally shifting off Mike and helping him up.

They lit another joint and Mike went to work arranging the dolls while Harvey stuck them in place.  They attached masks that were scarily realistic, added a bridal veil to the head of Jack’s doll and sprinkled confetti on the floor.

They left the office quickly, but not before capturing a picture from the doorway of Jack being taken from behind by Daniel Hardman on his wedding night.

Maybe Mike sent that picture to Donna, so a large curious crowd was standing outside Jack’s office when he arrived at work later that day.

5.  2016

It had been a long year, most of Harvey’s energy had gone into fighting for Mike.  Fighting to stop him going to prison, fighting to get him out, fighting with him full stop and finally fighting for him to become a real lawyer.  During that time Harvey had finally admitted to himself that he wasn’t just doing this to give Mike his dream, he was doing it because he had fallen in love with him.

Since day one he’d found Mike sexually attractive, Christ, the blue-eyed kid could have worn a hessian sack, and Harvey would have found him irresistible, but he never expected it to turn into a love so deep he would do or give anything to protect the man.

Tonight, he wanted, no, needed Mike back here at the firm, with them working side by side because Harvey knew that Mike was marrying Rachel and that working with Mike and being with him every day was all he was going to get.  Well, that and their traditional yearly smoking sessions, when Harvey got to pretend that they were more than just friends.  That one night a year when he got to touch Mike under the guise of being chemically altered and then woke up with a hazy mind, alone in his plush king size bed, and empty condo.

Now finally they had accomplished it, Mike was in the Bar.  A real lawyer.  Mike was stunned into silence, and even as Donna, Rachel and Jessica congratulated him, he only had eyes for Harvey.  He stared at Harvey who gave him a grin so happy, broad and beautiful; it was Oscar worthy.

Harvey reached over and slapped his shoulder, while he subtly made a smoking gesture and raised his eyebrows, non-verbal communication was their strong point after all.

Mike grinned back at him, “Later.” He mouthed.

Harvey nodded, he supposed Mike was already pretty high on life right now.

Mike was finally coming home.  They shook on it.  Well to Harvey it felt more like they had held hands, but it didn’t matter because he would see Mike, probably more than Rachel ever would.

_

Four hours later, Mike walked back into his office.  Harvey was sitting on the couch, feet up on the glass table with a tumbler of scotch in his hand, staring out the window.

“Saying goodbye to your office?”  Mike asked from the doorway.

“Thought you would still be celebrating with Rachel?”

“Nah, she had to study,”

Harvey nodded, hearing what Mike wasn’t saying, Rachel was pointing out that she still had to work hard to have Mike’s dream of being a lawyer.

“Top right drawer,” Harvey directed.

Mike grabbed the two neatly rolled joints and lighter and smiled back at Harvey, he poured himself a drink and collapsed onto the couch next to Harvey and lit up.  When they started to giggle, and Mike realised he was more affected than usual, he looked sideways at Harvey’s boyish face to question him but got distracted by how beautiful his best friend looked, and he couldn’t help lifting his hand to Harvey’s face and tracing his fingers over the smile lines lightly.

“This,” Mike said, holding up the joint, “Is not the coffee cart guy.”

“No, it isn’t, I got you special pot for our stoniversary,” Harvey laughed, “It seems to be working well don’t you think?”

“Oh God, Either I am really stoned, or you just said the word, stoniversary!”

“Come on,” Harvey said pulling Mike to his feet, “Let’s go and have the other joint in my new office.”

“What’s wrong with my new office which is your old office, just like my last new office was your old office?” Mike mumbled, not able to control the grin on his face.

Harvey stared at him squinting, too stoned to work out what the hell he was saying.

“Smoking pot in the boss’s office, I’m going places,” Mike joked, flopping down on the couch, lighting the second joint and taking a long drag.

“I might have to do some redecorating next week,” Harvey said, surveying the area and taking the joint from Mike.  He tipped his head back against the couch and blew a series of perfect smoke rings into the air.

Mike coughed out a small laugh, ��Any thoughts on how you’re gonna christen this office yet?” he asked cheekily, waggling his eyebrows.

“Why Pup, are you angling for a blowjob?” Harvey joked, rolling his head to the side so that he could see Mike.

Mike should have laughed it off, but those words, that invitation, even if he was just kidding, it had his dick stirring in his boxers immediately.  Harvey watched Mike swallow, then stare at his mouth, shit the pot must be good stuff for him to be contemplating this.  Harvey’s gaze dropped to Mike’s crotch, noticing the hardened outline of his cock becoming even more pronounced under Harvey’s gaze.

“Mike?” Harvey didn’t know what he was asking, but he was asking because he didn’t know how to proceed here.

“I … Ah, it must be the pot,” he said in a small voice, gesturing to the large tent in his jeans awkwardly.

Harvey dropped to his knees in front of Mike and slowly ran his hands up his thighs.

Mike hummed, his head flopping back against the couch.

“Fuck,“ Harvey ground out, “Are you okay with this?”

Without looking down, Mike undid his belt and top button and then moved his hands away.  It was an explicit invitation to continue.  

Harvey’s heart started to pick up the pace; he was nervous.  He wanted this to be amazing for Mike.  How many years had he imagined doing just this and now he had to fight the haze the pot was giving him and try to focus.

Harvey took a deep breath and looked up at the relaxed smile on Mike’s face.  He looked sexy, his five o’clock shadow giving him a gruffer appearance.  Harvey wanted to do more than just blow him.

Harvey carefully unzipped his fly, and Mike automatically lifted his hips off the couch to help as Harvey pulled his jeans down past his knees.  Harvey groaned when he pulled Mike’s boxers down his hips, and his perfect thick cock sprung out and stood to attention millimetres from his lips.

A drop of pre-cum slipped from Mike’s slit, and without hesitation Harvey licked at it, hungry for his first taste of Mike.

“Fuck…” Mike breathed.

Without wasting another second, Harvey sunk his mouth down over the thick cock as far as he could manage and let out a moan when the silky head hit the back of his throat.

The hot, wet heat of Harvey’s mouth and the sensation of his lips sliding down his shaft surprised Mike, he choked out a broken groan, and Harvey looked up at him and grinned, his pupils blown with lust and Mike nearly came right there.  He laced his fingers into Harvey’s hair and thrust once, experimentally into his mouth.

“Ahhh, shit that’s good.”

Mike’s head thumped back against the couch, hand sliding down to the back of Harvey’s neck as he continued to lick sloppily at his cock, swirling his tongue around the head and occasionally dipping it into his slit.

Harvey’s mouth and tongue were perfect, and considering Harvey was kind of stoned it was an unbelievably good blow job.

Mike felt his balls start to tighten, and when Harvey moaned around him, he couldn’t help thrusting again, into his throat.  Harvey took it; he didn’t choke or pull back, he just cried a muffled “Mike,” and bobbed his head taking him deeper each time, swallowing around the head of his cock.

"Fuck!” Mike groaned, as he grabbed Harvey’s hair again, harder, his mouth sliding further down his shaft as he thrust forward face fucking him, slowly at first and then gathering speed when Harvey grabbed his hips, pulling him forward, encouraging him until it became hard and fast.

“Shit, Harvey! So good. Oh God!”

Harvey glanced up at Mike, his jaw was slack, and his mouth had formed an O shape, his eyes were squeezed shut.  Soft moans were falling from his lips as his dick slid in and out of Harvey’s mouth.  Harvey balls tightened, Mike looked amazing, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to do this to Mike, again and again, over and over.

“Ahhh, fuck,” he mumbled around Mike’s cock as he came untouched in his pants, hips jerking forward erratically.

Mike’s balls were tight against him, so when Harvey mumbled around his cock and his fingernails gripped into his thighs, he plunged his cock down Harvey’s hot, wet throat until Harvey’s nose was buried in his pubic hair and came hard. White lighting flashed in his eyes, and heat shot down his spine as he splattered cum down Harvey’s throat.

"Sorry,” he grunted as his hips jerked forward, realising he hadn’t given Harvey any warning.

Harvey’s face looked flushed, and his eyes are blown wide like saucers, and Mike watches in awe as he drags his lips over the head of his cock, sucking up the last drops of cum.

They look at each other then, and a lump formed in Harvey’s throat as he realises that this was too far, this wasn’t just something they could write off as a little touchy feely, this was sex.  He drops his head, words failing him.

Mike reached down then and started to run his fingertips through Harvey’s hair gently.  He continued for a minute or so before cupping Harvey’s chin and bringing his lips down to meet Harvey’s in a soft kiss.

“That was unbelievable,” he breathed against Harvey’s lips, voice filled with awe.

A fresh wave of pot hits Harvey then, and he closes his eyes and sways a little on his knees.  Mike grabs his biceps and hauls him up next to him, pulls his boxers and jeans back up and then straddles Harvey, and before he can change his mind, he starts pressing soft kisses against his lips, waiting for Harvey to get with the program and kiss him back.

When Harvey finally concedes and places the sweetest kiss back against Mike’s lips, it’s like the floodgates open.  Harvey is licking into his mouth and taking him apart with every searing kiss, his hands are up Mike’s shirt, on the globes of Mike’s ass, in his hair, roaming everywhere while he continues to take Mike’s breath away with his mouth.

They’ve been making out like life depended on it for twenty or so minutes when Mike stops and pulls away abruptly.

“Mike?” Harvey says, voice filled with concern.

Mike turned to him slowly with a solemn look on his face.

“I’m starving,” he said, and then burst out laughing.  Harvey was joining in the laughter a heartbeat later.

After cleaning themselves up, they grab a burger and fries at a local all-night café, and when they part to go home, Mike grabs Harvey’s hand and squeezes it once before he turns and walks toward the subway.  Leaving Harvey standing alone, eyes shining as he watches Mike until he is gone.

+1.  2016

When Harvey woke that morning, he had hoped it was all just a dream, an 'I got high and blew my best friend/unrequited love’, stoner dream, but even after brushing his teeth a third time he could still taste Mike Ross in his mouth.

“Come over; we need to talk.”

“I’m downstairs, be up in a minute.”

Harvey grimaced, of course he was.  The thought of Mike here to tell him they had crossed an invisible line and they needed to bury it, no more yearly tradition, it made his chest constrict, and he could feel a migraine coming on.  He could have denied it up until last night, but now it was out there, between them, there was a real part of him that wanted this guilty pleasure not just to happen once a year but forever.  Harvey could admit to himself that he wanted Mike to feel the same but realistically, he knew he was marrying Rachel and even if he weren’t would he want to spend his life with him?

Mike preened himself in the mirror while the lift climbed to the top floor, adjusting a few strands of hair that weren’t quite perfect.  Since day one, he had always wanted to look his best for Harvey; today he had put on his darkest denim jeans and his black button down shirt, showing a little bit of chest hair then rolled up the sleeves to showcase his muscled forearms.  He hoped it would throw Harvey off enough that he wouldn’t resort to denial and be skittish, coming up with explanations and evidence about why last night was a mistake.  Mike knew it wasn’t; it had been coming for five long years.

He knocked, only waiting a few seconds before Harvey opened the door, with a tight smile on his face.  Harvey turned and walked straight to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of scotch, and placed it into Mike’s hand. Mike set down the glass. “I don’t need it, Harvey, I’ve come here to say what I need to, if you don’t like it, I’ll go.” Go.  No, Harvey didn’t want that, he thought as he sunk onto the couch. “So?  What do you need to say?” Even though he knew it was the right thing to do, calling this whole thing off, it was still going to hurt.  He hoped Mike would make it as quick and pain-free as possible.  Rip the band-aid off and go so that Harvey could combust in private. “I need a week off work,” Mike requested. “What?” he responded, surprised. Whatever he thought Mike was going to say, it sure as hell wasn’t that. “Well,” Mike continued nervously, “I really enjoyed last night, um especially the errr … bit on the couch, so when my head cleared, I sat down and spoke with Rachel, and it’s over,” he affirmed, “It will take me a week to pack up all my shit and move it in here.  What do you say?” Harvey stared at him like he had lost his shit. “Are you joking?  You want to move in?  We… You… Us?” He spluttered, not quite grasping this unlikely turn of events fully. Mike laughed, the pure happy sound echoed around the condo in the way that Harvey had always wanted and imagined it would. “How are you the best closer in New York?  You can’t even form a sentence right now!” Mike chirped, his blue eyes smiling at Harvey. “You’re serious about this?” He asked, rising to his feet. “As a heart attack,” Mike replied, hand on his heart for effect. “Jesus,” Harvey laughed nervously, “You may as well marry me while you’re at it!” He joked. “Okay,” Mike responded with enthusiasm. Harvey grinned at him and moved into Mike’s space.  His hand shook as he placed it on Mike’s cheek. He leant in, so their foreheads touched. “I’m serious; you can’t do all of this,” He gestured haphazardly, “Us, move in here, everything unless it’s really what you want.  I need you to be sure.” “Yep,” Mike said, taking a step backwards, “I am sure, but you’re not giving me much assurance that you are?” “Puppy,” Harvey breathed, “No-one else could ever hold my heart like you do.” Mike smile was so big and bright, if it were possible for Harvey to love him with more than every fibre of his being, that would do it. “I have a couple of things I’d like to negotiate for this to work, though.” Mike proposed. Harvey raised his eyebrows, “YOU have conditions about moving into MY place?  Oh, this outta be good!” “Specter-Ross,” Mike blurted. “You better be talking about your surname!” “Nope, maybe not in a year, but within five.  I want my name on the door, next to yours.  I don’t care where.” “We’ll see, I’m not opposed to the idea, but you have to be seen to be worthy by your colleagues too,”  Harvey reminded him.

“I understand, you know I can do that.” He replied smugly.

“Yeah, I know,” he said fondly. “What else have you got for me?” He asked, sitting and pulling Mike down to straddle him on the couch.

“Um, Well..” Mike started, leaning out of Harvey’s persistent nips at his neck.

“What is it?”

“I want to be wooed.”

“Wooed?” Harvey repeated, the confusion evident on his face. “Yes Harvey, wooed. I know we’ve known each other a while, but I want dinner, movies and chocolates,” he confirmed, giving Harvey a 'this is non-negotiable’ stare. “Jesus, when the hell did you get your seniors card?” He jested, smirking at him. “Oh, just woo me already!”  He said, wrapping his arms tighter around Harvey’s shoulders and relaxing against him.

He was home now.                            

A week after Mike moves into the guest bedroom, he comes home and finds a basket full of extravagant chocolates and an envelope holding a card, inviting him out to dinner with a private rooftop movie screening, afterwards.

Mike would never have said he was easy, but from that night onward he no longer required the guest bedroom.

The End.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.  I would like to thank my lovely beta @novemberhush for encouraging me and helping me improve.  I would also like to thank @cowandcalf @writing2reachyou @littlepinkpencil @elloras @superlock-in-the-tardis @bellemmie @nat-st1989 @paleskinnedviolet @sosauffie and @ariaportman (Probably others too.) for the support.  Whether it was encouragement, help with storyline ideas or simply just liking the fact that I was writing.  Thank You! x

[novemberhush]

We Used To Be Friends (We're Gonna Be Lovers)

Hey, so a while back (sorry for the delay) I got the drabble prompts, “I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that. But what you’re doing isn’t fair.” from @zimdan19, “Who gave you that black eye?” and “You’re still mad?” from @adnaismynameandbarcaismylove (she did say either/or, but I was up for a challenge) and “I let you win” from @octarine-flash. However, looking at those four prompts I saw the potential for one single, longer fic. So I’m hoping those three lovely people won’t be offended at my incorporating their prompts into this one story. I hope it doesn’t make it feel any less special or personal for them because I consider myself lucky to have all of them in my life. It just seemed to work better this way than separately, but please feel free to choose another prompt, just for you, if any of you want to. And in the meantime I hope you enjoy this story, which I dedicate to all three of you.😘😘😘

We Used To Be Friends (We’re Gonna Be Lovers)

“You’re still mad?”

Harvey pulled up short, the three little words said in a voice he didn’t know well, but had hoped he’d never hear again, floating down the otherwise quiet corridor and stopping him in his tracks. He’d assumed that with none of the other partners’ associates working on anything big right now (or sharing his own associate’s work ethic), that Mike would be the only one in the bullpen at this time of night. Obviously he’d been wrong. But that voice didn’t belong to any employee of the firm. And it didn’t belong anywhere near Mike. Its owner had forfeited that privilege long ago. If he’d ever deserved it to begin with.

Harvey felt his jaw and fists alike clench instinctively. Goddamn Trevor. What the hell was he doing here?

“Mad? Mad??” Mike’s voice this time. “Of course I’m still fucking mad, you asshole! I risked everything to help you! Again! And what did you do?? You screwed me over! Again! Jesus Christ, when am I ever gonna learn??”

Good question, rookie, Harvey thought, but he knew he was more pissed at Trevor for taking advantage of Mike than at Mike for letting him. Mike wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t a pushover, he was just … kind. And loyal. Stupidly so sometimes, and to his own detriment, but he didn’t like giving up on people. 

Harvey had come to realise that was just who he was and although he lived to give the kid shit for it, in his heart of hearts (and, yes, the great Harvey Specter had a heart, even if it had taken a cocky, mouthy, idealistic, blue-eyed do-gooder to remind him of that fact) he knew he wouldn’t change him for the world. Besides, Mike had him to look out for him now. And he was tough enough for the both of them.

“Look, I … I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that. But what you’re doing isn’t fair…”

Through the red mist that had descended upon him on hearing that goddamn fucking Trevor, who was about two seconds away from becoming goddamn fucking dead Trevor, had been the one to break Mike’s nose and not some stranger that just got a little too enthusiastic during a pick-up game of basketball as Mike had tried (fairly unsuccessfully, it had to be said) to convince him, Harvey heard Mike scoff at Trevor’s whiny lament.

“I’m not being fair??!” Mike was angrier than Harvey had ever heard him before.

Good. Maybe he’d finally recognised that his loyalty was wasted on his old ‘friend’, who may have been there for them when his parents died (although Harvey was more than halfway convinced he’d been calculating even then and saw it as an opportunity to keep Mike tied to him out of gratitude), but who hadn’t been anything more than a burden to him in years. A millstone around his neck, dragging him down and pulling him back.

We hate it when our friends become successful, Morrissey had sung. Personally Harvey had always celebrated his friends’ wins, having enough of his own to never feel outshone, but Trevor, well, he’d known for years what Harvey had realised minutes after meeting Mike - if given even just half a chance this kid could outshine them all. Trevor resented that, but Harvey, much to his own surprise, found that he didn’t. Instead he found himself wanting to be the one to finally give Mike his chance to shine. And, oh, Trevor couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have Mike finally wake up to the fact he had been manipulating him for years, playing on his gratitude and loyalty, to keep Mike in his place, in Trevor’s shadow, never letting his own light shine. Well, maybe Mike had finally woken up.

No sooner had Harvey thought it than Mike voiced it. “Harvey was right about you.” This time it was Trevor who scoffed.

“Oh yeah? And what did the great Harvey Specter have to say about me? Let me guess, it wasn’t flattering?”

“No, but it was right on the money,” Mike replied. “He said you didn’t really care about me, about our friendship. It was okay when I was just working jobs I hated all day and smoking it up with you at night, but the second I tried to do something with my life, tried to make a go of the one career I’ve ever really wanted, you couldn’t have that, could you? What? Too afraid I’d actually discover that maybe I’m worth more than trailing around after you and getting stoned every night, is that it? That maybe I’d hear what Grammy has been telling me for years, that you’re a user? That maybe I’d move on and forget you?”

“Well, that’s exactly what you did do, isn’t it, Mike!” Trevor roared. It took all of Harvey’s self-control not to step forward into the bullpen and make his presence known, somehow knowing this was a conversation Mike needed to have without his interference, even if it was out of concern. “Huh? All it took was some asshole with a $100 haircut in a fancy suit and I was history! Years of friendship forgotten after one meeting with His Highness, Prince Harvey of Harvard! One fucking chance encounter and suddenly I’m the villain of the piece!”

“This wasn’t Harvey’s fault, Trevor. This is on you. And, yeah, me too, for letting you keep me down all these years. I could’ve stood up for myself at any point. I could’ve stuck to what I knew was right and said ‘no’ every time you talked me into doing something stupid. Like memorising that test and selling the answers, or agreeing to do that drug deal for you. And that’s on me. But the truth is, a real friend would never have asked me to do those things. To risk everything I had, my future, my freedom, my safety, just so you could make a few bucks and keep me under your thumb at the same time. Well, no more. I got us out of this one by the skin of my teeth, but that’s it now. We’re done, and I mean it this time.”

“I think you’re forgetting something, Mike.” Trevor’s voice was low, dangerous. Harvey didn’t like it, but he stayed where he was. If things got violent he could be round the corner with his hands round Trevor’s throat in a second.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Mike sounded wary, and Harvey tensed, ready to spring into action if need be.

“Who gave you that black eye? Who broke your nose? You may think you’re better than me, Mike, but I’m still stronger. You think you’re so special? You think your precious Harvey thinks you’re special? Well, you’re nothing! Everything you ever had was because I gave it to you! Do you think anyone else wanted to be friends with Little Orphan Mikey, the freak with the memory? If it wasn’t for me you’d have had your ass handed to you every day in the playground! Never able to keep that big mouth of yours shut. Always having to show the bullies how much smarter than them you were. I was the only thing standing between you and a beatdown every day in high school.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not in high school now, Trevor. Oh, and by the way, that’s what friends are supposed to do! They stand up for you, and with you, and they always have your back, expecting nothing in return, except maybe you doing the same when someone comes at them. Harvey gets that. But, you … you have no idea what friendship is, do you?”

“Friendship? Ha! You really think friendship is what Harvey wants from you? Don’t make me laugh. Jesus, Mike, I thought you were smarter than that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and, trust me, it’s a whole lot more than friendly.”

Harvey had barely moved a muscle since he’d first heard Trevor’s voice, but now he was like a statue. Utterly still, he couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t even breathe.

“What?” Mike’s voice was quiet, unsure of itself, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.

“You heard. He wants you, Mike, and it’s more than just your mind he’s interested in.”

“Okay, now I know you’re crazy. If you knew anything about Harvey then you’d know he’s the consummate ladies’ man. A real player. He’s not into guys, and even if he were, he’d never be into me.”

“No?”

“No. Harvey could have anyone he wanted. He doesn’t need to settle for someone like me.” The certainty in Mike’s voice tore at Harvey’s heart. Did he really not know how Harvey felt about him? Did he really think Harvey choosing him would be settling? Didn’t he know he was the most extraordinary person Harvey had ever met? Had ever known, ever loved?

Yes, loved.

Of course, Harvey had tried to fight it at first. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d seen love before and what it could do. His dad had been in love and what had it gotten him but a broken heart and a division of assets? Harvey had loved his dad but he’d been determined not to repeat his mistakes. But it had been an unfair fight right from the start. A lifetime of running away, of closing himself off, of witnessing firsthand what love gone wrong could do to a person, versus five minutes in a room with Mike Ross? No contest. Harvey would’ve liked to have been able to say I let you win to Mike, but the truth was he’d never had a say in the matter. The heart chooses and Harvey’s chose Mike. And when he’d dealt with this Trevor asshole he was finally going to tell Mike that.

“I think Trevor knows as well as I do that being with you would never be settling, Mike,” Harvey said, relieved to find his voice projecting its usual confidence as he rounded the corner and quickly assessed the scene before him, poised to strike if the need arose.

As predicted, the bullpen was empty except for the erstwhile friends. They stood beside Mike’s desk, overflowing with paperwork and Red Bull cans, Mike’s chair pushed back with his suit jacket draped over the back of it. Trevor in a suit Harvey had to concede was half-decent. Mike, face still bruised and swollen from their previous run-in, looking like Edward Norton’s more attractive stunt double from ‘Fight Club’, tie and top button undone and shirt sleeves rolled up. A wave of fondness and an overwhelming need to protect rolled over Harvey. But something else, too. Pride. Admiration. Respect.

Trevor was looming over Mike, but Mike refused to be cowed, head held high, back ramrod straight. All heart and soul, eyes flashing like St. Elmo’s fire. He’d already taken one beating (that Harvey knew of) at this man’s hands and still he stood tall, ready to take another if necessary, but not willing to back down. Mike might not have been able to throw a punch like Harvey, but he was his very own brand of tough.

“And as it seems that genius brain of yours hasn’t been able to work it out for itself, he’s right about me wanting more than friendship with you, Mike. But he’s wrong if he thinks I’d ever try to coerce you into something you didn’t want. You can say ‘no’ to me without it voiding our friendship. Your job here is safe, and always will be as long as I have any say in the matter. And I will always have your back without expecting anything more in return, except the same from you.”

“You … you mean … you …,” Mike stuttered.

“Use your words, rookie.” Harvey grinned.

“You mean it’s true? What he said? You … you want me?”

“I do. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”

A slow smile spread across Mike’s face and he shook his head.

“No, sir. No problem at all.”

Harvey’s heart gave a little kick and of its own accord his hand reached out towards Mike’s. Mike grabbed it without hesitation, still smiling, and Harvey felt himself become practically boneless as all the tension he didn’t realise he’d been holding on to ebbed out of his body. Of course, goddamn Trevor had to break the moment.

“I fucking knew it!” he spat. “Nothing more than a couple of …” Harvey turned to him before he could finish that sentence, contempt written all his over his face.

“A couple of what? A couple of guys who could bury you if you ever show your face around here again? A couple of guys who are smarter, better, stronger than you in every way possible? Yeah, that’s right. We are.” Harvey gripped Mike’s hand harder and felt Mike squeeze his in return.

“I’m also the guy who’s struggling to choose between kicking your worthless ass right now or putting in a call to my good friend, Judge Lawrence, and getting a restraining order against you. One which I’d be happy to have served to you at your workplace, which wouldn’t look too good for you. But then again, neither would turning up missing half your teeth because I’ve knocked them down your throat.” Harvey took half a step forward and was gratified to see Trevor take one back.

“So why don’t you do yourself a favour,” he continued, “and walk away now, before either of those things has to happen. Walk away, out of Mike’s life, for good this time, and never come back. It’s Mike’s time to shine now, Trevor, and because you tried to keep him in the shade you don’t get to bask in his light. And I’m more sorry for you than you can know because you’ll be missing out on the most beautiful thing either of us has ever had the chance to witness. You’ll be missing out on Mike and that’s a loss I don’t envy you. But you brought it on yourself and I don’t intend to make the same mistake. So get out of here while you still can, and never come back.”

“Mike? Say something.” All the bravado gone, Trevor looked and sounded like a pale, hollowed-out version of himself. Harvey could only hope Mike was tough enough to withstand the pathetic sight he made.

“I think Harvey said it all. Go, Trevor, and don’t come back. There’s nothing here for you now.”

Anger flared once more behind his dark eyes, but Harvey had drew himself up to his full height, puffed his chest out and moved to stand in front of Mike, before Trevor could do anything with his ire. Mouth twisting in disgust, he threw them both a final withering glare before turning on his heel and stalking out. Behind him Harvey heard Mike’s breath huff out of him in a rush and he turned in time to see his body seem to crumple into the chair he had abandoned when Trevor had shown up.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. He’s gone now, and if he knows what’s good for him he’ll stay gone,” Harvey soothed, sinking on to one knee in front of Mike, suit pants be damned, and taking his hand in both of his. Mike just nodded and Harvey felt the tremors running through his lean body.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was the one who broke your nose and gave you that black eye? I didn’t believe that basketball game story for a second, you know.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Mike smiled sheepishly. “But I didn’t want you going away for murder, and that’s what would have happened if I’d told you it was him the day I first walked in here with my face looking like this.”

Harvey nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. “Hell, kid, it was hard enough not killing him now.”

Mike smiled again, wider this time, but then his eyes flickered away from Harvey’s.

“Hey, what’s going on in that big brain of yours now, rookie?”

Mike glanced up uncertainly, fear and doubt and a dozen other things Harvey wanted to chase from his being forever, clear in his eyes.

“Did you really mean it?” So quiet Harvey, even so close, almost didn’t hear it. “Or were you just saying it to piss him off? Or to get him to back off?”

“Huh?” Harvey’s brain scrambled to catch up with Mike’s before it hit him what he was talking about. He was still doubting Harvey wanted him. Harvey took it all back. The kid was an idiot. But he was Harvey’s idiot.

Harvey rolled his eyes before levelling Mike with one of his patented get with the program, rookie looks.

“Mike, do you remember how I told you being a lawyer is a lot like being a doctor?”

“Yeah, you gotta press until it hurts and then you’ll know where to look.”

“Right. Well, the day you walked into my office, face swollen and bruised, eyes sadder than I’ve ever seen them before, I didn’t need to press to see where it hurt, because I already knew. I already felt it. Right here.” His hand still clasped around Mike’s Harvey raised them both to his own chest, just above his heart. “So, yeah, I wanted to piss him off and I wanted him to back off, but I meant it. I meant every word. I want you, Mike. I love you.”

Mike’s eyes widened at the use of the ‘L’ word and Harvey was suddenly afraid he’d ruined everything. Trying to salvage what he could, he quickly added, “But if you were just pretending you wanted me too in front of Trevor, it’s okay. Because I meant what I said about wanting to stay your friend too. Nothing has to change between us if you don’t want it to, okay? We can still…”

Harvey didn’t get to finish that sentence because warm lips were against his, stubborn and insistent as the man who owned them. Getting with the program himself, Harvey kissed back, his hands finding their way to Mike’s face and cradling it tenderly before he gently broke the kiss. He stayed close, though, and Mike rested his forehead against Harvey’s.

“Wow, I didn’t want that to ever end,” Mike breathed.

“Me neither,” Harvey beamed, “but I was afraid I might hurt you, what with your nose and everything.”

“Trust me, I’m not feeling any pain right now,” Mike beamed back.

Harvey chuckled. “Well, I guess that’s my reputation as a uncaring hardass shot to hell then.”

“Please,” Mike laughed. “Like anyone ever bought that to begin with. You’re a pussycat, Harvey Specter. I’ve known that since the day I met you.”

“Oh, really? And what gave me away?”

“I crashed your interviews, pretended to be someone I wasn’t, dropped a briefcase full of weed at your feet, corrected you on the Sarbanes-Oxley Act, told you I didn’t have a law degree and generally acted like an all-round wiseass - and you still hired me.”

“Maybe I just wanted to get in your pants.”

“You didn’t have to give me my dream to do that, you idiot.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what did I have to do?”

“You only had to ask.”

“That easy, huh?”

“For you? Yeah, that easy.”

“Then what the hell are we doing hanging round the bullpen when we could be at home in my condo, wrapped up in bed?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but this guy, kinda cute, reputation as a bit of a hardass but really just a great big softie, told me he’d tell Donna I’d dissed Richard Gere if I didn’t have the briefs for the Maddox versus Lewis Industries case on his desk first thing in the morning.”

“Fuck Maddox versus Lewis Industries.”

“I’d rather fuc…” This time Mike was the one cut off by firm lips pressed against his own.

“Hold that thought, rookie. Come on, let’s get out of here,” Harvey muttered, getting to his feet and tugging Mike up off the chair and into his waiting arms.

“Aye, aye, captain.” Mike grinned. Harvey rolled his eyes again, but couldn’t keep the answering grin off his own face.

And as he was pulled down on to the bed later that night, by Mike, naked as the day he was born and more lovely than anything Harvey had ever thought possible, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would protect this man in his arms from whatever came their way. Old friends, new enemies, and any and everything in between, if they wanted to hurt Mike they’d have to go through Harvey first. And then they’d see just how much of a tiger this pussycat could be.

[littlepinkpencil-blog]

Stay Safe Boys

by Littlepinkpencil

Rated E

"Night Ray, have a great weekend, see you Monday," Mike called exiting the car behind Harvey.  

Harvey had offered to help Mike with one of his 'bleeding heart' cases and seeing as though they hadn't caught up in a while; they decided they could have a few drinks and watch a movie afterwards.  Front desk barely looked up as they headed to the lift, another sharply dressed neighbour with a briefcase waited, tapping their foot impatiently.

"Should have taken the private elevator," Harvey grumbled, checking his watch.

"Calm your farm old man, people will think you're paying me by the hour," Mike replied, giving him a wink.

Harvey gave him a sly grin and placed a hand on Mike's lower back, pushing him into the now waiting elevator, but didn't move to remove it once the doors slid closed.  Mike rolled his eyes at him and elbowed him in the ribs, Harvey let go but not before running his fingernails up his back, making him shoot up straight.  "Asshole," he mouthed at Harvey.  All of this going on behind the other occupants back.

The lift stopped on the 12th floor; Mike was busily trying to get out of an arm lock.  As the passenger exited, Mike spun and freed himself, grinning at Harvey in triumph when he saw Harvey face lose its colour.  Turning toward the doors Mike jumped, and his heart started racing, someone had jammed their briefcase in the door and was standing there, peering through the gap with a stocking covering their face.  Harvey slowly moved in front of Mike as the man's raspy voice filled the elevator.

"Relax," he slurred, "this is just a warning." Then he smiled.  It looked evil and messed up because of the stocking distorting his features.  "Gallo wants to kill you himself, stay safe boys," he rasped yanking the briefcase out, sending the elevator on its way.  

Mike's face had drained of its colour, and he was shaking like a leaf.  Harvey grabbed him and pulled him close, but Mike pushed him away, making a gagging sound, then vomited down the front of his shirt as he slid to the floor.

"Mike listen to me; I need to call security, are you going to be okay?" He asked, grabbing the emergency phone.  When Mike didn't acknowledge him, he dropped the phone and knelt down next to him, gripping his shoulders.

"Mike, it's Harvey.  Are you okay?  What do you need?" he said, trying to sound calm.

Mike looked up at him slowly, meeting Harvey's eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh.  He was ashamed of his reaction.

"Sorry, yeah uh, I'm fine, just a bit shocked that's all." He said, trying to laugh and downplay the situation.

Harvey squeezed his shoulder and grabbed the phone again, connecting to the lobby.

It was too late.  The lobby reported later that Harvey had called a mere 30 seconds after the perpetrator was seen running towards the subway.  Harvey spent two hours retelling the story to police officers, who had surveillance footage for Harvey to look at and forms to fill in.  Mike stayed in Harvey's room curled up on his bed, complaining of a migraine so he wouldn't have to deal with it all.  

It was 11.30pm by the time the condo was quiet again.  Harvey quietly pushed the door to his room open; Mike was sitting up against the head of the bed, knees hugged up to his chin, staring at nothing-in-particular.

"Did you call Rachel?" Harvey asked, sitting down on the side of the bed closest to Mike.

"Yeah, she's been staying with her parents, so she's not in any danger." He said, avoiding Harvey's eyes.  The room fell silent for a minute.

"How long?" Harvey urged because he knew something had been going on these last few weeks, what with all the yelling and the misplaced anger, but he didn't realise Rachel had moved out.

"I knew the minute I took the deal it was over.  I'd hoped it wasn't, but when your lawyer visits you inside more than your fiancé, it's time to call a spade a spade."  He explained, grateful to have it off his chest.

"Now Gallo wants us dead.  It's like I can't get a fucking break anymore.  Like fuck!" He yelled, anger bubbling up inside him, "I have nothing, no job, no fiancé..."

Harvey was silent; he knew not to take what Mike was saying to heart, he was scared and vulnerable.  Jesus, even Harvey had to admit he'd been scared tonight.

"I think you should stay here tonight; you can have the guest room," Harvey said, standing and patting Mike on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Mike murmured, "Uh I could eat?" He added.

The way he looked with his big blue eyes and chin sitting on his knees reminded Harvey that he was so much younger than him, he looked scared, timid and overwhelmed.

"Grab a shower, you smell like vomit, I'll make us something to eat," he directed, "I'll leave some pyjamas on the bed."

Harvey grabbed a few items from his wardrobe for Mike and set them on the bed, moving to the kitchen he turned the griller on and cut up a bread stick.  He pulled some homemade pumpkin soup out of the fridge, separated it out into two bowls and heated each of them, while he toasted the bread under the griller.

When Mike reappeared and sat on the counter, two steaming bowls of soup were waiting, and Harvey was spreading garlic butter on the bread and building an impressive looking bread tower.

"Smells great." Mike enthused, grabbing a bowl and heading for the couch.  Harvey set down the bread on the coffee table and bought his bowl over, sitting down right next to Mike.  They demolished it in amicable silence.  They watched a documentary about Alaska and an episode of The Long Way Round before Harvey stood and stretched.

"I need some sleep, anything you need before I go?" He asked.

Mike looked up at him, a question on his lips but he didn't say anything just dropped his head and frowned.

"What is it?" Harvey asked sitting back next to Mike and placed a hand between his shoulder blades.

"It's stupid; I'm a grown man, I don't know why-" Mike uttered.

"Mike, you are the least stupid person I know, come on, I'm not judging you, what is it?" Harvey prompted, rubbing circles with his thumb on Mike's back.  It had taken a few more minutes of soothing circles before Mike spoke.

"When I was little, if I got scared Grammy used to let me sleep with her cardigan, I uh.."  Mike looked right at him them, blue eyes shiny with unshed tears, "Can I wear your tee shirt?" He asked so softly, Harvey almost didn't hear it.

Harvey was taken aback; Mike was so scared about Gallo that he wanted to wear his clothing, more must have happened in prison than he let on.  It was a lot for Harvey to take in, but this was Mike, so he pulled him into a quick embrace, "Rookie, you are wearing my tee shirt." He pointed out.

Mike went bright red and muttered something unintelligible as he stood up to walk away.

"What?  Mike?  What did I say?" Harvey asked, unsure what exactly was going on.  He reached for Mike's shoulder.

"It's more comforting if it smells like you." Mike blurted, "Forget it, good night."

"Mike, wait," Harvey said, peeling his undershirt off and throwing it to him as he turned around and stared at Harvey's naked torso.

"Get some sleep okay, we're safe here." He said softly, then headed for his room.  Did Mike find his smell comforting?  His heart might have melted a little bit in his chest.

He sent a short text message to Dr Agard, asking if she could make a house call tomorrow, tossed the phone on the bedside table and dropped his head onto the pillow, exhausted.

****

Sometime between the hours of two and four am Harvey woke when Mike moved under his covers and snuggled up against his back, nose pressed into his neck.

Mike had now shattered all of Harvey's personal boundaries, and even though he should just kick him out, he couldn't.  Because if there was one thing Harvey knew for certain in this life, it was that he would do anything for or give Mike anything he wanted.

When Mike's hand skated lightly over his belly, followed by a press of his groin against his ass, Harvey had to muster every inch of restraint and willpower he had not to press back against Mike.  He managed though and closed his eyes willing himself back to sleep.

Then Mike pressed his forehead against his back and whimpered please, and he knew he was beaten.  It was like the air left the room, all of a sudden a fog of desire and want, filled the space.

He rolled over and pulled Mike against his chest.  He knew this wasn't the right way, coming together when one of them was vulnerable, it wasn't the smart choice, but to hell with being smart, he had stubble scraping over his clavicle, and he could feel the head of Mike's cock, slick with pre-cum pressing against his stomach.

"Harvey, please." Mike moaned, rubbing his cock against him.

"Mike, we can't take this back, are you sure?"

"Yes, god yes, fuck me, please fuck me Harvey" Mike murmured, words of want and lust spilling from his lips.

It hit Harvey like a train then; he couldn't do this.  He cared too deeply about Mike for this just to be some fuck they once had.  Mike had no idea what he needed right now, but it wasn't this.  Harvey could make him feel safe and loved without sex.

"Okay, it's okay come here," Harvey said, pulling Mike on top of him and wrapping his arms around him.  He felt heavy and solid; it felt good.

Mike reached down and grasped Harvey's hard cock, stroking it lazily as he rubbed up against him until Harvey pulled his hand away and Mike froze.

"Mike, this isn't a no to you, it's a no to now.  Now isn't the right time to be doing this." Harvey explained, rubbing Mike's shoulders.

"You don't want me?  What? Even I'm too damaged for you?"  Mike spat, untangling himself and moving away.

Ouch.  Harvey felt that blow; again it took significant restraint not just to give him want he apparently only wanted Harvey for, hell it might be his only opportunity to do so, but he stuck to his guns.

"Mike, I do want you," he spoke to Mike's back.  "I want you to look at me and want me in that way more than anything, but you're fresh out of a relationship with Rachel, and you feel vulnerable because of Gallo and your job hunt.  I want you to want this when the going is good, not bad, doing that will only make it worse, it could ruin us Mike, and I can't stand to lose you." Harvey said, pleading with Mike.  "I'm sorry Mike, but even someone as damaged as me doesn't want to be a quick fix fuck."

Mike sighed.  "I'm sorry," he whispered, "You're right, you always are." He turned to face Harvey.  "Would you just-"

"Come here," Harvey soothed, cutting him off.

Mike slipped back under the covers and into Harvey’s waiting arms.  Harvey held him tight, his whole body pressed against him, it felt real, and he felt himself relax.  Harvey brushed his lips against his forehead and placed a firm kiss there, not moving away but keeping his lips against Mike’s head.

Mike tightened his grip on Harvey and slowly tilted his head back, so Harvey’s mouth dragged down his forehead and over his nose until it hovered level with his mouth.  He and Harvey were breathing the same air; he felt his body heat up, the nervous tension zinging around his body like white lightning.  His heart started beating out an irregular rhythm in his chest as he took one last breath of Harvey’s air and their lips met, perfectly slotting together and sealing the air in.

Harvey felt the kiss right down to his toes; it wasn't at all what he expected he and Mike would be like, this kiss was firm and filled with love, their lips just locked together, breathing steadily through their noses until Mike broke the kiss and whispered, "Is this okay?"

Rather than answer, Harvey captured Mike’s lips again, this time though he frenched Mike to within an inch of his life.  They made out passionately until the sun rose, falling asleep happily in each other's arms.

Frank Gallo could come, and Harvey would do everything in his power to protect Mike.  But what Gallo didn't know was that he had driven two very formidable minds into each other's arms, so he better watch his back too.

THE END

[wolf-zaa]

Marvey ficlet: { 1:00 - 1:25 }

{  ft. my own challenge: Writing without the word “Love”.  }

One in the morning; Mike’s phone buzzed.

Front door. –H.

One fourteen; as Mike stumbled at the building entrance, Harvey was already standing there, waiting, looking like he was just coming back from work.

“What are you doing here?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, but—” Mike swallowed any word he thought of down his throat at Harvey’s gaze. “I thought I was clear back then.”

It came out softer than it should.  Harvey nodded in response.

“I didn’t come here to mess with you,” he stated. “I’m here to see you.”

And there he was, standing in front of Mike in his charcoal three piece suit; covered, but naked at the same time.

Covered; under his mask of confidence that was about to crack, under the crisp cut of his suit on his shoulder, under the gel that kept his hair slicked back in place, under his suave posture that fooled everyone to believe that he had no heart at all.

Mike had almost believed it.  Almost.

And now it was leaking, bleeding right before those vivid blue eyes that teared him apart; the blood, the devotion, the memory, the history, the truth, the lie, the emptiness, the madness.

The madness.

One seventeen; they stood in silence for what felt like forever.

“Why?” Mike asked quietly, voice broken, pleading, begging for Harvey’s mercy to let him go; though the lawyer knew that in fact, it was completely the other way around.

Harvey gulped down whatever he had prepared before he reached the building, the explanation, the lash, whatever he thought he need to tell Mike.

One nineteen; Harvey looked into Mike’s eyes for the first time.

He carefully laid down his heart, his guard, his shield, his pride, and bared himself the way he had never done before, not in front of Dr. Agard, not in front of Donna or Jessica; only Mike.

Naked, like he was looking at the mirror, inspecting scars marked all over his skin, one by one, searching for every secret and craziness underneath.

And he didn’t need anyone to tell him to.

One twenty; Mike’s breath stuck at the top of his lungs, stunned.

Harvey realized at that exact moment that he wasn’t the only one who was hurting, breaking, drowning, and falling into pieces.

Into madness.

Mike gritted his teeth; shouting soundlessly how his heart had bled empty a long time ago, when he told himself to move on, when he thought there was no hope.

Though Harvey was right; two adults who cared about each other didn’t move on at all.

“I’m sorry,” Mike finally whispered, ashamed, guilty, regretted.

Harvey closed his eyes. “Me too.”

One twenty three; they were about to choke on the thick familiar tension that screamed grab him, hold him, hold him, hold him close, kiss him, kiss him, don’t let him go, not again, never again—

Mike took a deep breath, mumbling, “Thanks.”

Harvey nodded slowly with an almost empty heart.  Maybe this was Mike’s payback, for never gave him chances, or cues, or hints, to step in a little bit closer to his heart.

Then Mike smiled at him, bitterly, but surely was a smile, in the last moment before he turned back into the building.

Harvey found the corner of his mouth curved up unconsciously.

Wasn’t a payback then; only madness, the one they had created together.

One twenty five; the bleeding stopped.

[writing2reachyou]

Bayu Bayushki Bayu

Title: Bayu Bayushki Bayu

Rating: Tean And Up Audience

Word Count: 29,299 (18 Chapters)

Summary: Mike starts writing letters from prison. Harvey is on the receiving end and responds in his very own way.

Tags: Prison, Whining, Loneliness, awful call-in shows, Letters, communication is a complicated thing, repeated mentioning of Taylor Swift, music can save lives, Harvey's taste in music is not as bad as Mike always thought

Betas, encouragement and endless help, compassion, patience and love: @novemberhush and @sairyn-noc

Written for the Marvey Lullaby Challenge (#52)

Dear Harvey,

First of all: You don’t have to answer. I know that you’re really busy, especially right now with all the things happening to the firm. I read newspapers in here and the latest articles on PSL worry me. Maybe I shouldn’t do this to myself because I know that most of it is my fault. And I care too much about your well-being. You’ve all been a family to me and have stood by my side through thick and thin - even Louis, even though you better not tell him because I’d never hear the end of it once I’m out of here again (I doubt he’d be the visiting kind). None of you deserves to go through shit, you all had a good future ahead of you and then I came waltzing in and see where it got you.

(A bracket to the officer reading this: I’m talking about emotional connections and all. And besides, what I have to share with my old colleague and friend really isn’t that exciting, if you stop reading here, it will spare you a lot of platitudes and cliche things you have read a million times before. Just so you’re not saying I haven’t warned you… Okay. Going ahead.)

The first few days in here have been really scary. It’s one thing to theoretically have an idea what it’s like to be restricted to such a confined area but to actually feel it is ten times more intense. Knowing that you cannot just walk out of here, even if you wanted. It’s larger than life, no prison movie I’ve seen has prepared me for this constant anxiety of being at someone else’s mercy without the means to escape. I’ve tried sitting down every night to start writing to you because I was terrified of some of the people around here and the routines were new and some didn’t make sense to me but I guess I’m a quick learner, you know me, I tried to imitate stuff other inmates did and apart from that stayed out of trouble as well as I could. You said that one of my problems is my open heart and trusting persona. Well, let’s put it that way: I’ve already learnt to keep my mouth shut and not confide in everyone straight away. Long way to go still but… it’s not as dangerous as it looks from the outside. Most of my fellow inmates were convicted for crimes that we have witnessed first hand in our business: Fraud, embezzlement, tax manipulation… We might have even put some here, so far I’ve thankfully not met any former opponent. As for the rest - well I’m trying to avoid them.

What really, seriously gets to me (apart from the weird noises at night, I really don’t wanna meet the monster that seems to live in the pipes of bathroom C) is the boredom. Harvey, I’m going insane in here, there is no stimulation at all. Those law books in the library were printed in grammy’s days and I’ve solved all sudoku puzzles in the magazines you sent me and now I’m basically crawling up the walls. I’ve just been assigned to my first work, thank God, that gives me something to do apart from staring at the walls and reading the books I’m being sent. Please tell Donna that I like her choice of literature and I’d be very happy to receive more stuff from her - the longer, the better.

My correctional officer tells me that I’m not supposed to distract myself too much from thinking about all the things I have done wrong in my life and that a sentence is supposed to get you back on track. As if I didn’t know that. Ever since I sold that test, I wish I could simply undo it. Life is not black and white… But I need a task, a purpose. Without any kind of animation, my brain cells will die a slow and painful death. I can almost feel them clinging onto the back of my skull, screaming in agony. HELP MEEEEE, HELP MEEEE MICHAEL!!!! PLEEEEEASE!!!

There is nobody in here who’s remotely into movies unless there are plenty of naked women in them (well, there probably is but I haven’t encountered them yet and at the moment I’ve decided to keep my head down) . Once every two weeks, they show motion pics in a room they call the cinema. It’s basically just a bigger cell with a bunch of chairs and a bad screen and the flics they choose hardly ever depict any violence so we end up being fed awful romantic comedies most of the times, you’d hate it! By now I am ready to pull a bag over Meg Ryan’s head if I see that smile one more time over the upcoming months.

I miss our banters, I never thought I’d admit that to you but I guess this is not the time for charades. The only person who’s remotely as smart as you slightly intimidates me, so I haven’t really dared to start a conversation. The harmless souls are usually also not the brightest candles on the cake and I cannot wait for my visitor list to finally be approved. - don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect you to drive out here every week, I know that it’s quite a ride. Just would be nice to tell a joke again without it being misinterpreted. When I tried a Shawshank Redeption line on one of the nicer chaps around here (or so I thought), he almost broke my nose.

Sleeping is an issue for me because everybody keeps snoring and shuffling and I really wish I had a proper cell instead of a bed in those endless rows of bunk beds. I often listen to the radio that I bought from the commissary and the world out there seems even further away but really close at the same time and I want to get in touch with people but I can’t and it’s frustrating (oh God, I just realized how whiny all of this must sound to you. And petty. But that’s how it is, small problems are blown out of proportion in here a lot because Nothing. Ever. Happens.).

I had to decide whether I wanted an MP3 player and buy music from the prison internet - it’s basically a Fort Knox of its own: We (=the inmates) are not connected to the outside world but the network has a bulletin board, you can leave messages to the administration or send e-mails to pre-approved people from your contact list. There is this thing called „TRULINCS“. If I wanted to write a message to you, you’d receive a notification first, telling you that I’d like to get in touch and you need to confirm that it’s alright I’m sending you mails before any of my stuff goes through to you (not without being read first, of course). But there are just very few computers and no privacy, so I’ve decided to rather gather my thoughts here, at my desk and try to get down on paper what is happening around me. If you will, I’m shamelessly using you as some kind of outlet. Maybe I should start keeping a diary? I hope you can actually decipher my writing, it’s gotten pretty bad ever since I started working for you guys. Well, to be honest, it used to be quite bad to start with.

But yeah. MP3 vs. radio - I decided to go for the bad music but at least that way I can listen to the news and stay somewhat connected to the world even though it’s tough. Because you become aware of the lives that are led on the outside while you sit in here and do dishes in the kitchen day in, day out. In. Out. I’ve become quite addicted to that call-in radio show that we’ve made fun about back in the days. The one you showed me at the condo one night because you thought you recognized one of the regular callers. Ridiculous, isn’t it? It’s just nice to hear normal stories every now and again, nothing life changing, or brutal - just love stories and anniversaries and weird sexual kinks and I don’t know. Those kinda things that we used to mock. And now I even find myself sobbing at the cheesiest love stories and I hope nobody gets to see it because, you know, cry babies are not exactly safe around here.

Have you noticed that all those lonely people always request the same awful songs that are played during the day? I can tell you that the latest Taylor Swift song was played more than 30 times over the last week - and that only during the time that I was able to actually listen to that station. But I don’t wanna look for another channel because somehow it connects me to you guys. To a good memory. To a dream that no longer exists. But I have two more years to get over the fact that I’m not a lawyer anymore and can never become one. I don’t have to start my new life just yet. Give me a couple of weeks to ignore reality.

I’m digressing, ain’t I? And I know that I should come to an end, I don’t even know what I really wanted to say with this letter. I would like to write regularly if you don’t mind receiving weird rambles about life in here. Just to get my head straight and let you in on what’s going on. To let you know I’m still alive and hanging in here. And that I’m trying to watch my back the way you asked me to. I guess I should come up with a funny quote to end this letter but somehow my brain doesn’t deliver any right now. I’ll make up for that next time, once I’ve settled in some more. Would like to see you. But no pressure.

Take care Mike

(read the entire story over at AO3 under THIS link)

[reg-spectre]

This is Christmas

It shouldn’t be this hard; forgetting. Mike has always been good at it, just like he is at most things. Forgetting the pain of death; the pain of lost friendships, and now, the pain of a broken relationship. Except this time, it’s not easy.

Mike tries to move on; to bring his life back to the way it was before he let That Man into his life. Under his therapist’s instructions, he tries to clear everything in his life that reminds him of Harvey, before he realizes that memories can’t be cleared. He can only get rid of so many stuff, and the others that remain, remain stained with the ghost of their relationship.

He changed the cushions of his couch, but he couldn’t shake the memory of how the very first time they made love to each other was on it. He re-orientated his closet and the clothes in it, but he couldn’t forget how the closet looked with a line neatly down the middle dividing it equally for both men. He removes the brown and white His and His towels hanging from rails in the master bathroom, but he can’t forget how Harvey looked under the warm glow of sunrise, wrapped in nothing but his towel and with drops of water glistening in his hair.

“I’ve been doing this before I met you, and I’ll be doing it long after I’ve forgotten all about you.” He still hears Harvey’s voice sometimes. Usually it’s endearing and reassuring, but at moments like this, it is harsh and painful. He wonders if Harvey has in fact forgotten all about him yet, but concludes that being a man of his word, he probably has.

Christmas probably hits Mike the worst, because for the first time, he has no one to share it with. Eventually, he finds himself calling Trevor while nursing a bottle of scotch, the engagement ring still feeling heavy on his ring finger. When Trevor makes an excuse to get back to his wife, Mike lashes out undeservedly at him.

“So, this is Christmas? Alone, in a dark apartment, drinking scotch and watching some crappy Christmas movie?” Mike squints at the dimly lit screen in front of him before leaning back into the couch in defeat, cradling the phone in one hand and the alcohol in the other.

“Jesus Trevor, what am I doing,”

“Don’t do anything rash, Mike, Christmas will end soon. And once it’s over I’ll come and visit and it’ll be like old times again, just you and me,” Trevor reassures a silent Mike, before saying that he really has to go now, and hangs up.

Mike sits still for a long moment, just listening to the beep of the dead line, when a resounding knock on his door startles his senses awake. Excited that his door was being knocked for the first time in weeks, he swings it open without checking through the peephole first, but immediately wishes he had.

Harvey stands silently at Mike’s doorway, his arms apart and hanging loosely by his side as if to say “I’m here,” and gently shrugs his shoulders. He holds a bottle of wine wrapped in a brown bag in one hand, the other holds a dripping umbrella. Mike glances out the window. How had he missed that it was raining?

“Harvey? What are you.. What.. What are you doing here?” Mike asks, once he has drawn sufficient deep breaths.

“I heard you talking to Trevor,” Harvey begins, while walking to the umbrella stand behind the door to fold his dripping umbrella into. He slowly closes the door, playing for time, then turns to face Mike.

“How much did you hear?” Mike asks, not missing the fact that Harvey was slowly approaching him.

“Mike,” An instant wave of pleasure, almost like pain-relief, floods through Mike at hearing the attorney say his name for the first time in weeks, but is quickly followed by a wave of shame at feeling such happiness.

Mike nods, giving permission to Harvey to step closer, until their lips are inches apart.

“This is Christmas,” Harvey reassures him, before pressing his lips to Mike’s.

[sairyn-noc]

The Age Old Question

Harvey was in a state of panic. It was a month before Mike’s wedding and emotions he long thought buried were attacking him on every front. The room swayed, while beads of sweat erupted across his skin. It was so bad, he debated calling Dr. Akard for a session. Leaving. Mike was leaving. It’s not as if Harvey was under some illusion that the dream team could stay together forever. But having found out that far away reality was happening in a month’s time, right after the wedding? That was enough to send anyone to a therapist.

Mike was in Harvey’s office giving both he and Donna yet another update. Then something happened. Harvey wasn't sure, but he lost focus somewhere along the way. He was only able to catch snippets.

“Moving to California…”

“Week after the wedding…”

“No honeymoon…”

“Found a perfect place…”

Harvey couldn't say anything, didn't know what to say. All he could do was hear his own voice repeating over and over… I thought I had more time.

Mike’s voice brought him back. “Say something, Harvey,” Mike implored shyly.

A new tidal wave of words and thoughts crossed Harvey’s mind, but he eventually settled on the ones that were “right.”

“Congratulations. Seriously. No matter where you go, I know that you will be successful.”  

As for those other words, the ones he had swallowed more times than he could remember; Harvey left them unsaid. Because nothing, absolutely nothing good could come from saying them now. It wasn't like he was in love with the man. Loved him? No doubt. Wanted him? Harvey’s brain tripped over that question before landing solidly on ‘yes’. Over the years, Harvey with Mike at his side had crossed almost every line imaginable; all except that one. They’d come close on more than one occasion, but the thought of ruining their partnership among other regrets was enough for one or both of them to take a step back and return them both to status quo. And now they would never know.

Finish on AO3

Mike encircled Harvey in a quick hug. Upon being released, he gazed up at Harvey and smiled silently. Somehow Harvey had the feeling Mike was thinking the same thing.

“Thanks, Harvey. For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just glad Jessica isn't here. She’d make me go out and try and find another associate. And how am I going to find another genius law school dropout to drop weed at my feet?”

They shared a quick chuckle before Harvey continued.  “Have you lined up a job yet? I could make some calls.”

“Nah, I’m good, Harvey. I’ve already reached out to some firms. Besides, all I need are some tasty waves, a cool buzz, and I'm fine,” Mike quoted perfectly.

“Alright, Spicoli. Get back to work. Lots to do before the big day.”

“Yep,” he answered popping the ‘p’.

“Yeah,” Harvey said aloud. There were so many things he would miss about Mike.

Since then, Mike had cleaned up his case files, packed up his life and married the woman he loved. Harvey knew this because he witnessed it all. He did all his best man duties with flourish- making sure Mike got the biggest bachelor party he could imagine. Then stood next to the man and smiled while nursing the biggest hangover he could remember. He even managed to make one hell of a toast to the new couple. He felt nothing but pride watching Mike take this last step. Lord knows the kid deserved more than a slice of heaven after the last year.  

Three days later, Harvey found a note in his office; an invitation of sorts. He frowned upon reading the words. It wasn’t the first time Mike had asked for Harvey to meet him at some bar to grab a drink, but he usually didn't do so via note. Harvey hadn’t seen Mike since the wedding, not that he had expected to. What he did expect was to attend the goodbye dinner planned for the night before they flew out, say a few words, then head home to drink himself blind. Apparently, it seemed, Mike had other ideas. Harvey tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. With a heavy sigh Harvey grabbed his jacket and did what he always did when Mike called; he went.

When Harvey walked into the Warwick Hotel, he headed straight to the bar. Mike was perched on one of the chairs, dressed comfortably in smart black pants and a sweater, sipping a long neck.

“Shouldn't you be locked in your bedroom with your new bride?” he inquired, grabbing the chair next to him.

Mike looked up. “Harvey. I’m glad you came.”

“Why wouldn't I?” he answered, signaling the bartender.

Mike looked away briefly. “I don't know. Maybe I thought you wouldn't want to...”

Harvey watched Mike’s fingers fidget with the bottle of his beer. Clearly, something was on his mind. Harvey leaned in a bit closer, concern creeping up his spine.

“Mike? Hey. Talk to me. Did something happen? You and Rachel…”

Mike’s head whipped up quickly. “No, nothing like that. Well, I mean not how you are thinking.

“Then what is it?”

“Let’s grab a booth.”

Now Harvey was really worried. He quickly ordered a beer and followed Mike to a corner booth. Mike slid in and went silent. He played some more with his beer and looked everywhere except at Harvey. Harvey felt his hackles go up, ready to fight whatever trouble Mike had found himself in.

“Mike, you're scaring me. Whatever it is, we can handle it. Just tell me.”

Mike lifted the bottle and took a heavy swallow. “Okay,” he mumbled. He caught Harvey’s gaze; his blue eyes were so dark they sparkled like stars in the night sky.

“Okay,” he said again, this time a bit louder.

Harvey straightened.

“I asked you here tonight because I couldn’t leave without knowing.”

“Without knowing what?”

“Without knowing what I was leaving behind.”

Harvey turned the words over in his head, trying to figure out what was missing from the statement.

“Okay Mike, I’ll bite. What are you leaving behind?”

“You,” he breathed.

“What? I hope you don't expect me to pack up and move to California with you and Rachel because that’s just not going to happen,” he joked.

“That’s not what I am suggesting...although…,” he tapered off, his goofy smile breaking the tension.

“Well, now that we have got that straightened out,” Harvey deadpanned.

“What about me?”

“Harvey. Promise me you’ll hear me out, okay?”

Harvey nodded.

“I think you and I both know there have been times. Moments where it felt like there was something between us. Something more than friends. I mean not all the time, but sometimes it just felt… feels different.”

The world tilted briefly. Harvey took a slow breath righting his brain. This was dangerous territory; forbidden territory and Harvey wasn’t sure he wanted to go any further.

“Of course, I mean after all we've been through it's not surprising...”

“Stop Harvey. Just stop. Don't deflect. Not with me. You can't sit there and tell me you have no idea what I am talking about. That you haven't felt the same pull. I know you have. I have seen it in your eyes, felt it in the way you have touched me. How many nights did I wonder what it would be like if we were to cross that line? I thought it would go away, but it didn't. And I know this is selfish and all kinds of wrong, but I couldn't walk away, without at least trying. I want this Harvey. But if you don't, say the word and we will never talk about this ever again.”

Harvey finished his beer, buying himself time to work his way around Mike’s confession. He knew what Mike was talking about. And of course, he felt it, too. He could admit that he had thought about it, more than once even. But that didn't make it right. Mike was a married man. What he was suggesting was wrong. It had to be. “So, you left Rachel sitting at home to come out and proposition me? And for what? Some cheap one-night stand? You could have picked up anyone for that. And honestly, you should've done that before you got married.”

The accusation roiled through Mike. Harvey could see it in the way he sat up straighter, leaned in a little closer. Mike's voice was tight and controlled.

“First off, I would never, could never just have picked up a random stranger. I just wouldn't. This has nothing to do with having some last fling. And everything with the man I am sitting across from. I have wanted you from the moment I met you. But acting on those feelings was too risky. I couldn't bear losing what we had. I put them aside and moved on. As for Rachel. She knows where I am; she knows what I am doing. She sent me here- with her blessing.”

Mike’s fingers brushed up against Harvey’s hand. Soft and warm, like a whisper or a promise. Harvey inched back, creating space between them.

Mike’s shoulders slumped. “Say something, Harvey.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Yes. No. Something, anything.”

“You want me to say something? I’ll say something. Go home to your wife. You’re leaving me, remember?” He didn't care that he lashed out in anger, or even that the words reflected the truth he hadn’t yet come to terms with. Mike was leaving. Not just his job, or New York but also him, and Harvey didn't want to think about how much that truth hurt.

Harvey stood to leave when Mike’s grip stopped him. “Fine. I’ll go.” Mike got up as well, his grip on Harvey’s arm unchanged. “But not before I say one more thing. I may be leaving New York, but I am not leaving you. I could never leave you. Yes, I love my wife, but believe it or not, I also love you. I do. And I know that this is fucked up…”

“Damn right it is,” Harvey muttered, gritting his teeth.

“But for one night, I want to know what it feels like to love and be loved by you. And deep down inside, I think you want that, too.”

Mike dropped a room key on the table and exited the booth.

All the air left Harvey’s lungs in one large exhale. The room vanished; his focus disappearing until the only thing Harvey could see was the plastic keycard in front of him. Harvey didn't want to think about it; didn't want to hear and re-hear Mike’s words. Because if he did, he would have to concede Mike was right. He did want to know what it would be like to be with Mike in every way possible. But that didn't make it right, despite the telltale twitch in his pants. Harvey was mad. Mad at Mike for having the gall to set this all up; to offer himself up, like some prize to be won. But more importantly, he was mad at himself, for wanting to say yes.

Harvey slumped back into the booth. He didn't know how long he sat there, nursing his long-empty bottle, staring at the key that mocked him, tempted him. He didn't want to touch it; afraid if he did he wouldn't be able to stop himself from using it. He had a choice to make. One night. With Mike. Could he do it? And if he did, could he walk away? Harvey got up, intent on walking out of the bar and never thinking about his conversation with Mike again. He was going to leave the key on the table and just walk away. That would be the smart thing. But as he had proven over the years, he never could do the right thing when it came to Mike. With a muttered curse, he dropped some cash on the table and grabbed the key.

Harvey would like to say he strode confidently from the elevator to the indicated room- top floor none the less, sure in his decision. That though would be a lie. The truth was, that with every step, his self-doubt - mixed with a hint of self-loathing  - made his legs a little wobbly. He didn't like cheaters; he didn't cheat. But was it cheating if the spouse knew? Semantics, his brain supplied. And what about the fact he was getting ready to have sex with a man; something Harvey had not done since college. He knew Mike was bi (yet another reason to hate Trevor), but he didn't classify himself to be anything other than a straight guy who experimented. Once. This though was not some drunken fumble; it would be a conscious, deliberate choice. He quickly debated leaving, having reached the door, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he wanted this; wanted Mike too much. That was the secret he never wanted to admit to anyone; especially himself.

The key felt heavy in his grip. Moisture from his palm had made it slippery. It took a couple of tries before he was able to raise his hand to the handle. If Harvey did this, there would be no turning back. He paused; took a moment to examine if he could really go through with it. Not that it mattered. Harvey had known the minute he’d picked that damn key up off the table, the die was cast. It was too late to turn back now. Harvey was an all or nothing guy. And right now, he wanted all of what was on the other side of the door. He slid the plastic square into the slot and watched the light turn green, granting him entry. With a deep breath, Harvey reached for the handle, turned the knob and walked inside.

Mike was standing by the window, a glass in his hand, his sleeves rolled up, looking out at the night sky.

“I didn't think you would come,” he said, not moving.

“Neither did I,” Harvey answered, his voice devoid of emotion.

“So why did you? Are you here to lecture me some more about morals and values.”

“No.”

Mike turned then to look at Harvey. His eyes were hard, looking for any lie. Harvey stood his ground, unwilling to look anywhere but the man in front of him.

“Then why are you here?”

Harvey stepped further into the room, stopping a few feet from Mike who had not moved again.

“Honestly, I don't know.”

“Then maybe you shouldn't be here.”

Harvey sharply inhaled, his gut twisting. Mike was giving him a way out if he wanted it. It should have been a relief, but for some reason, it just felt… wrong. More wrong than anything else.

“I thought I was invited,” he joked awkwardly.

“That doesn't mean anything.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he replied, looking down at his shoes.

“Not good enough, Harvey. If you are not completely sure about this...” Mike’s voice was soft, mournful even. “I can't… I won’t… No matter how much I want to… You have to be…”

“I’m sure.” The words slipped out quickly, without thought. For a second, Harvey panicked, thought he should take them back, but just as quickly that thought passed. Because no matter how fucked up the situation was surrounding them, giving up on this was not an option.

Harvey looked up and met Mike’s eyes. “I’m sure,” he repeated.

Mike placed his glass on a nearby table, his eyes never leaving Harvey’s. He took a step towards Harvey. Then another. Then another. He didn't stop until he was stood inches away. Sweat bloomed on Harvey’s brow, his heart beating rapidly.

“Harvey,” Mike’s voice was soft; his breath warm as it ghosted across his face.

Harvey was lost in the blue eyes looking at him with so much emotion, he felt surrounded.

“Mike, I'm…”

Harvey didn't get to finish his sentence as Mike’s lips brushed against his own. It was a taste, a brief tease, a promise; and before Harvey could get used to the idea that Mike was kissing him, it was over. And that was not acceptable. Harvey chased those lips like they held the answer to every question he ever had. Soft fingers on his chin stopped his progress and lifted his face until he could gaze into Mike’s eyes.

“I want this, Harvey. I want you.” Mike’s voice was soft, reverent even. His lips grazed Harvey’s once again, all the while his fingers kept his face still.

“No regrets,” he whispered.

Harvey’s arms reached around, circling Mike’s waist. “No regrets,” he answered, closing his eyes and leaning back in.

Harvey sighed against Mike’s lips, felt Mike’s tongue tentatively brush against his lower lip asking for permission which Harvey granted. The groan that rumbled from Mike’s throat made Harvey shudder. The kiss further deepened; it was hard and filthy and perfect. Mike walked Harvey to the wall, never once breaking their kiss. Once there, Harvey felt Mike’s hardness up against his own. It should have given him pause; should have made him question if this was still right. Mike was a man after all. Instead, it ignited something within Harvey; something he had no name for. All thoughts vanished when Mike grinded against him. Harvey’s body responded in kind, demanding glorious friction, while his hands snaked beneath Mike’s sweater, searching for skin. Mike hissed. Within moments, the grasps and groans, the clutch of fingers and ragged breaths were too much and not enough.

“Mike…,” he whispered.

Those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes peered up once again and met his own.

“Please.”

Mike grabbed Harvey’s hand, lifted it up to his lips and kissed the palm gently.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” Harvey answered.

Mike slid Harvey’s jacket off his shoulders, placing it carefully on the nearby chair. The slow slide of silk being loosened from around his neck hissed in the quiet room. It wasn’t until deft fingers began undoing his shirt buttons, did Harvey remember he could be helping. He reached for the hem of Mike’s sweater, breaking apart so it could be lifted up and over Mike’s head. Mike’s lips found his briefly, before they moved off to his cheek, his chin, then to the exposed skin at Harvey’s collarbone.

“Ohh,” Harvey groaned, turning his head giving Mike more access. Harvey’s nimble fingers traipsed their way to Mike’s peak nipples and squeezed as Mike’s teeth marked Harvey’s skin. It wasn't enough. The thought blazed through Harvey’s hazy brain. With effort, he pushed away from the wall, intent on getting the man in his arms horizontal and naked.

“Bed,” he whispered hotly. “Now.”

Mike groaned a noise that sounded a little like yes.

Their movement proved to be a delicate dance of kissing while articles of clothing hit the floor. Mike turned Harvey, lead him to the next room, not stopping until the back of Harvey’s knees hit the bed. With a slight push, Harvey sat. Mike smirked then dropped to his knees; his hands moving to Harvey’s thighs.

“All the times I wanted to do this,” he murmured. “I would fantasize about you sitting in your chair at your desk; me kneeling beneath it, in between your legs.” He kissed Harvey’s knees, then the outside of both thighs. When he started to work his way inside and up, Harvey grabbed the sheets. Mike nosed at Harvey’s pubic hair, inhaling deeply. Watching Mike on his knees in front of him, became the single most erotic thing Harvey had ever witnessed.

“Fuck, Mike,” Harvey.

“Yes,” he answered, licking a long stripe from base to tip. “I think I would like that.”

Mike looked up from beneath his lashes and swallowed Harvey down deep. Harvey couldn't stop the pornographic moan from falling from his lips at the feel of Mikes mouth, all warm and wet and perfect. When he did it again, Harvey’s hips came up just a bit and Mike placed one hand on his thigh while the other circled Harvey’s base.

“Oh, Mike. Shit. Fuck. Your mouth,” he panted.

Mike smiled and bobbed his head.

Harvey was close, embarrassingly close. He knew if he didn't stop Mike right now, it would be over quickly.

“Come here,” he growled, pulling Mike off into a filthy kiss. They fell together onto the bed with Mike sliding between Harvey’s legs. Harvey reached out to grab both their cocks, using Mike’s spit as lubricant.

“Fuck, Harvey.” Mike ground down against Harvey, rotating his hips. “You feel so good,” he breathed.

“What do you want, Mike? I could…”

"I want you to fuck me,” Mike stopped moving, staring intently at Harvey. “Please fuck me.”

“God, Mike.” He reached up and wrapped his hands around Mike’s neck, pulling him in for a bruising kiss that quickly became heated. When they broke for air, Mike leaned over and grabbed his overnight bag that was sitting near the bed.

Harvey raised an eyebrow when he returned from his fidgeting with an unopened bottle of lube.

“What?” he said sheepishly. “You were the one who taught me to be prepared for any outcome.”

“I don't remember that including having bottles of lube on you at all times.”

“Well, I improvised,” he smiled.

Harvey reached out and stroked Mike’s face, caught up in the gravity of what they were considering.

“Second thoughts?” Mike asked softly.

Harvey pulled Mike back into his arms. “No. None.” The kiss they shared was soft, deep and felt far more intimate than anything they had done. Harvey moved so he was now above Mike and opened the bottle.

“Promise me,” he said, “You will tell me if anything is uncomfortable. I don't want to hurt you.”

“I promise,” Mike answered. He grabbed a nearby pillow and shoved it beneath his hips, giving Harvey better access.

The first breach of Harvey’s finger was met with a sigh from both men. By the time Harvey had worked three fingers deep in Mike’s heat, Harvey was harder than he could ever remember. It didn't help that Mike looked positively debauched, writhing and sweating beneath him. How could he have ever thought that fucking Mike was a bad thing, he thought idly. Mike’s moans interrupted his thoughts

“I’m ready, Harvey, please, just fuck me.”

“You should see yourself, Mike. You're gorgeous. Begging for my cock.”

“Yes. I want it. I need it, Harvey. Please…”

Harvey crooked his fingers, having heard about prostate stimulation though never once had an opportunity to test the theory until now. He believed he found it when Mike jumped.

“Fuck! Yes, there!” he yelled. “I swear Harvey if you don't fuck me now, I’m not going to last.”

Harvey removed his fingers and added lube to his cock which had been impatiently waiting for his turn.

“How do you want me, Specter,” Mike purred.

“I would prefer that you stay just like that. I …” Harvey faltered briefly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I want to be able to watch you.”

Mike smiled. “I would like that, too.” Mike let his knees fall open in invitation and Harvey lined himself up.

“I promise, I will go slow.”

Mike’s face pinched slightly when Harvey pushed passed the outer ring of muscle. Harvey stopped and searched Mikes' face.

“It’s okay, keep going. It's just… been a while.”

You sure?” he asked carefully.

Mike, Harvey knew, didn’t always make the best decisions when it came to his own health or safety. Not that Harvey didn't want to believe him, because all Harvey could think of was ramming all the way home. Instead, he blew out a breath.

“You sure?”

“Very,” he answered.

Harvey pushed in a bit more, stopping regularly until he was completely sheathed, then waited, kissing Mike gently.

Mike tilted his hips and moaned gently. “You do that again and I won't be able to stop,” Harvey panted.

“Then don’t,” Mike answered, pulling Harvey’s face down for another kiss.

Harvey rolled his hips slowly. Mike felt so tight, so hot. His body shook with the effort to move slow; stay in control. Mike wrapped his legs around Harvey’s back and pulled him down not too gently.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Harvey” he whispered hotly.

“Oh, thank God,” Harvey whispered. He pulled almost all the way out, then thrust in balls deep. Mike moaned again, and Harvey was lost. Slow deep thrusts morphed with cries of deeper, harder. Mike had him in a death grip, both breathing hard.

“Harvey…”

“Yes.”

Harvey shifted; lifted Mike’s legs higher allowing him to go that much deeper. The response was immediate.

“Yes Harvey, there, God. Fuck me… just like that,” Mike cried bracing himself against the headboard with his hand.

“Just like that? Is this what you need, Mike. My cock, taking you, ungh,” he groaned when Mike clenched his ass. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good. I want to feel you come, Mike. Tell me how… show me how you like it.”

“Oh God, Harvey, I’m so close. Touch me. Please,” he begged.

Harvey freed up one of his hands grasped Mike’s cock which was slick with a mix of precum and leftover lube. Harvey was too far gone to have a freak out about touching another cock. He was way beyond that. All he could think of was making Mike fall apart beneath him, preferably before his own orgasm overtook him. Mike’s cock was long and thin like the rest of him. He stroked firmly, twisting his thumb across the crown on the upstroke- his own preferred method.

“Oh God,” Mike spewed, canting his hips. “Yes, just like that, just like… Haarrrvey,” he cried, his orgasm taking over.

Harvey worked him through it, gritting his teeth while Mike’s ass clenched and unclenched around him. Mike shuddered through aftershocks while Harvey continued to pound deeply into him, chasing his own orgasm. And when it hit, when his vision completely whited out, all Harvey could do was pull Mike up to him and bury his scream into his neck.

“Oh shit,” Harvey heaved. “That was, that was…,”

“Yeah,” Mike smiled. That was fucking fantastic,” he slurred.

Harvey chuckled, then remembered he was still buried deep inside Mike.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“I’m not, Mike replied softly.

“Neither am I,” he whispered, answering the question beneath Mike’s statement.

Harvey leaned down and captured Mike’s lips which parted to allow further exploration. Their tongues languid and slow swirled against each other. Harvey gently extricated himself from Mike’s perfect ass and wobbled to the nearby bathroom. After a quick clean up, he came back with a towel for Mike and sat nervously on the bed.

“Thanks.”

Mike pulled back the covers and climbed into the large bed, making space for Harvey.

“Getting in?”

“I wasn’t sure. I mean...”

“I never thought I would see the day the great Harvey Specter was tongue-tied,” he chuckled lightly.

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

The banter felt normal, and it helped to ease the question of what was supposed to happen next.

“There’s room in this bed for two,” Mike said cheekily.

“Then scoot over,” Harvey smiled climbing in.

Mike settled into Harvey’s arms. They kissed softly, slowly; no longer rushed. Their touches were tender, gentle. When they broke apart, Mike’s brow was furrowed, his lower lip caught in his teeth.

“What is it, Mike?

“I love you. I mean, I know I told you earlier, but I need you to hear me say it again, feel me say in your arms. I have no doubts, no regrets.”

“Mike…I,”

“I don't expect you to say that back,” he interjected. I just wanted to tell you, so you know without a doubt how I feel, and that this isn't, will never be wrong to me.”

Harvey reached down to grasp at Mike’s face. He kissed him hard, he kissed him deep, and he kissed him with all the emotions he couldn't recognize, let alone say. Harvey agreed. Nothing about having Mike in his arms felt wrong.

“Hear me say this. I don't know what I feel, but I do know that you are the most important person I have in my life. And I have no regrets about anything we have done. Or anything we still might do,” he threw in with a smile.

Mike smiled in return. “Would you like to order dinner in?”

“No,” Harvey answered climbing over Mike’s body. “I think I would rather stick to dessert.

“I think I can handle that,” Mike spoke against Harvey’s lips.

When morning came, Harvey was sore in ways he never knew he could be. He had sampled everything and by the twinge, he felt as he sat up reminded him, that did mean everything on the menu. Harvey knew before he opened his eyes that Mike was gone. He had felt the bed shift and the taste of minty fresh lips against his just after sunrise. Harvey stayed in bed, feigned sleep to avoid doing the whole big “goodbye” thing. Plus, he wasn't sure he could have gotten through it had he tried. Something happened in the hours he spent with Mike. Something wonderful and awful and just downright frightening happened as he laid within his arms. The worst part was there was nothing he could do about it; about any of it. Not that he was sure what he would do.

He found the note in his jacket pocket. He recognized Mikes hurried scrawl easily.

Harvey,  

I stand by everything I said last night. I have zero regrets. I hope, neither do you. I know how you feel about cheating. Just like I know you may wake up one day and consider what happened last night indeed that. But I am here to tell you it was anything but. I got to spend the night in the arms of someone I love, I will always love. I will carry the taste of you, the feel of you, the feel of us together, forever. I am walking out of here with a smile on my face and the memory of our night. I hope you do, too.  

Thank you for spending this night with me, for giving us this.  

Mike.  

P.s. I know you weren't sleeping.  

~~~

The next time Harvey saw Mike was at the group dinner. Harvey thought about not going, but after a pep talk disguised as a threat from Donna, he decided to make an appearance. Harvey was seated across from the happy couple. They looked like typical newlyweds. Rachel was glowing, and Mike looked at her like she hung the very stars. They held hands beneath the table, sat close to each other and spoke about the new life they were ready to build together with joy. Harvey never once thought that one night would Mike would change anything, but then again.

In that moment, Mike glanced at Harvey. As if he could tell his name had crossed Harvey’s thoughts. He smiled at him, one that reached his eyes. Harvey found himself smiling in return. This was right, he told himself. Mike deserved to be happy, and if that meant one night with him and the rest of his life with Rachel, then Harvey would make peace with that.

When the party moved to the bar after dinner, Harvey attempted to make his escape. He had had enough. All he wanted was to get home and drown his thoughts in every bottle he had back at home. He was halfway to the coat rack when he heard her.

“Harvey?”

He turned to see Rachel walking slowly towards him.

Her face gave away nothing, which made him worry that much more. Did she know what happened between Mike and him? And if she did, was she really okay with it? He braced for either option.

“I wanted to catch you before you snuck out.”

“Mrs. Ross,” he drawled easily. “What can I do for you?”

“You know, if it wasn't for you, I don't think Mike or I would be here.”

“I'm absolutely sure, you two would have done just fine without me.”

“He’s going to miss you. We both are.”

“I’ll miss you both too, he admitted sadly.

She pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Harvey, for everything you did,” she whispered.

“I did what any mentor would do.” That and fuck your husband, he thought.

She smiled, and for a moment Harvey wondered if perhaps he had said that last part out loud.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Harvey pulled back and frowned.

Rachel sighed loudly. “I meant thank you for saying yes.”

The ground shifted beneath Harvey’s feet.

��Rachel, I…,” he started nervously.

“I know how hard it was for you. It is for you to let go. Especially, now.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” he joked. “I knew eventually he would go off on his own.”

Rachel cocked her head, doing a pretty good impression of Donna. “That’s not what I am talking about and you know it.”

“Rachel,” he sighed, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Mike was never mine to give up.”

“Oh Harvey,” she soothed, placing a hand on his cheek. “He was always yours. You just didn't want to see it.”

She paused staring at him; dissecting him. “But you see it now, don't you? I can tell. I can see it in your eyes.”

Harvey flinched.

“Which makes what you did - allowing him, allowing both of you that night - that much more special. And walking away that much harder,” she finished.

Harvey pinched his lips together, her words bothering him more than he would like to acknowledge.

She leaned up and kissed him on his cheek.

“He loves you, you know,” Harvey said at last.

“I know,” she answered. “I love him, too. But he also loves you, Harvey. I doubt that will ever change.”

Harvey swallowed the golf ball sized lump lodged in his throat. “Take care of him. Take care of each other. Have an amazing life.”

“You, too, Harvey. And remember, you will always a place in our lives.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Rachel walked back to the rest of the party and Harvey grabbed his coat. The room felt too small, the crowd too noisy, and the heat was stifling. Harvey rushed out the door and into the night air. He took in a large gulp of air, calmed by the sounds flowing around him. He was so lost in the noise, he almost didn't hear his name being called.

“Harvey!” He looked up at the first touch of a hand grabbing him from behind.

“Not going to say goodbye?” Mike’s voice was light, but Harvey could hear the nervous edge in it.

“Got work to do. You know how it is, Mike.”

“Yeah, I know. I know you hate goodbyes and will do anything to avoid them.”

He smirked, conceding the point. “Look, Mike,” Harvey started, trying to fill the awkward silence that fell between them. “Even though I don't do goodbyes as you put it. I can honestly say, I am so fucking proud of you.”

He extended his hand. “Go out there and do good. Be the man you always dreamed of being.”

Mike stared at it then rushed into Harvey’s frame, encompassing him in a hug. Memories of their night flooded Harvey’s system. He moved and pulled him in closer, trying to soak up as much of Mike as he could.

“I won’t say goodbye,” Harvey murmured into Mike’s hair.

“I know. Neither will I.” Mike pulled back enough so he could look into Harvey’s eyes. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Harvey’s own. “I love you, Harvey.”

“I know,” he chuckled.

They both smiled at the infamous quote. Harvey quickly pecked Mike’s lips and backed away. Mike took a deep breath and turned back towards the restaurant.

“Hey Rookie,” Harvey called out. “I love you, too.” Mike's turned, his eyes going wide.

“I knew it!” he shouted, his goofy smile lighting up his face.

Harvey never could resist that smile. “Go on, get out of here. Your wife is probably looking for you by now.”

With a quick nod, Mike walked back through the door and out of Harvey's life.

Harvey wasn't sure if he was supposed to be happy or sad about his time with Mike. The truth was, it didn't really matter. He turned up his collar on his coat and waved down a cab. Inside, an old Jackson Brown song was playing- Tender is the Night. Harvey found himself tuning in, the lyrics coming out of nowhere to greet him.

Between a life that we expected and the way it's always been...  

That about summed it up. Harvey was a man caught between two worlds. He never once imagined he would end up here- realizing he had fallen in love with Mike just in time to watch him walk away. He knew firsthand the world could be cruel, but this, this was torture. So, was it better to have loved and lost- or never to have loved at all? Hell, if he knew.

[marveyficchallenges]

Challenge #86 - Prank Call - Masterlist

Winning by sairyn-noc

[frivoloussuits]

Inspired by the 84th Marvey Fic Challenge, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

In another world, Charles Forstman presses his advantage over Harvey.

In another world, Trevor sends Mike Ross on a drug deal many years too early, and Mike winds up at the Chilton Hotel, begging Charles Forstman for a trading job.

[Read more on AO3.]

[loyalty2waystreet]

A Romantic Twist

- By Loyalty2waystreet.

Harvey and Mike settle a dispute with a game of Twister. 

Explicit.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9669908

It was a slow day at the office; Mike was standing behind Harvey, leaning over into his personal space showing him how to photoshop Louis’s head on to a picture of Cartman. “Boys," Jessica boomed from the doorway, making them jump. “Jessica,” Harvey said brightly as he shut Mike’s laptop and stood up. “What are you doing visiting the lowly office of an associate,” he jested, side eyeing Mike with a smirk. “I’m here to see both of you. Short notice, but I just got a call from McKernon Motors. They're having a benefit on Valentine’s Day, and we need someone there to represent Pearson Darby.  I’m sure you two can flip a coin or something.” She smirked and quickly left them to fight it out. “Shotgun, not!” Mike yelled “You’re up, Rookie!” Harvey responded, leaving the office, Mike hot on his heels. “I can’t go, I’m busy,” Mike tried, pulling at the arm of Harvey’s suit. “You don’t have a life! I call bullshit.” “If I don’t have a life, that is entirely your fault. You realise that, right?”

“Whatever you say, you’re going,” Harvey confirmed, ignoring his associate. "That’s not fair! Why can’t you go?" "Because I have plans, romantic plans," he said smugly as he reached Donna’s desk. “No, he doesn’t," she said matter-of-factly, smirking up at her boss. “You're fired!” Harvey grumped walking into his office. Mike wasn’t giving up that easily.  He parked himself on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table, glaring at Harvey.  After an impressive five minutes of glaring and eyebrow raises and wiggles, Harvey finally caved to Mike ‘bleeding heart’ Ross.  Again. “Fine, let's settle this man to man. If you can win a game of poker against me, I’ll happily go,” Harvey said, knowing he had Mike beat. Donna sashayed in then. “Or to make it fair, I could pick something?” she said sweetly, winking at Mike. “Didn’t I just fire you?” Harvey snarked, rolling his eyes. “Come on, Harvey? Scared you can’t beat me?” Mike teased, giving him a grin. “Fine, let’s have it, Donna.” Harvey resigned. A mischievous smile crossed Donna’s face. “A game of Twister,” she announced. “No,” both men replied in unison. “Pussies,” she said, under her breath, just loud enough for them to hear it. “At least pick something where Mike doesn’t get an unfair age advantage!” Harvey sniped. “Are you admitting you’re too old for Twister? I knew all that bragging about your flexibility was bullshit!” Mike laughed, delighted. “I am NOT old! Buckle up, I’m gonna kick your pretty boy ass at Twister!” he challenged. “Bring it, but don’t forget your zimmer frame, you’ll need it afterwards.” Mike clucked, bumping shoulders with Harvey playfully. “Great, settled then,” Donna said, interrupting the pissing contest.  “Right here, 5.30 am tomorrow; I’ll bring the game,” she said, leaving the office. They shrugged at each other, a silent agreement to drop it until then. “Want to create a Tumblr page to post our photoshops on?” Mike smirked.   Harvey nodded, an evil grin on his face. “Sure do.” - Harvey woke feeling nervous. It was just a game of Twister, why did it feel like it was more than that?  Ever since Mike had come back to him, things felt different. Not in a bad way. In an exciting new way. There was nothing, no Rachel, no Scottie, stopping him from making a move, but he wasn’t sure he was ready, and if he were to go there with Mike, he didn’t want to fuck it up. He dressed in his sweats and started to stretch. He stretched for about 30 minutes, wanting to make sure that his body was ready. He wasn’t even sure why they were doing this. He was Mike’s boss, and he knew he could just pull rank and tell him to go, but something had stopped him. Okay, so maybe he needed to prove that he was fit enough to keep up with Mike physically but under no circumstances would he admit to that, so he shoved it firmly to the back of his mind. He grabbed his suit bag, foregoing his morning coffee until his stomach felt more settled, and headed to the office. Mike rolled over, grabbing his phone to silence the annoying chirp of the alarm.  He buried his face in the pillow and wondered why on earth he had agreed to something that had him rising even earlier than usual. His mind wandered to Harvey; today had the potential to shift things between them in a huge way. In their working life together there had been plenty of physical contact. Brushes of arms, neck squeezes, reassuring hands, shoulder bumping, etc., but Twister had the potential to have body parts that wouldn’t usually touch, well, touching, and Mike had every intention of making that happen in order to win. His stomach growled, hungry and nervous. No matter what the outcome of today was, Mike was determined to ask Harvey out. He was pretty sure Harvey was interested, but he wasn’t sure whether he was ready to admit it. A little bit of innocent physical contact should help him clarify that. Donna bounced out of bed. Today was the day she stopped watching two men so perfect for each other it was stupid dance around each other and finally get their collective shit together. Someone had to sort them out and she was just the woman for the job. She grabbed the game and her coffee and headed out the door. When Mike entered Harvey’s office, the Twister mat was already laid out on the floor where the coffee table usually sat.  He could hear voices echoing in the hallway as he hung his suit bag up. “See, told you he wouldn’t chicken out,” Donna said, winking at Mike. “What, and miss a chance to beat Harvey Specter at something? Never!” Mike sassed, grinning at Harvey. The older man gripped his neck and squeezed lightly, then leant in and whispered hotly in his ear, “Then I hope you’re ready to stretch and burn, Rookie,” making Mike’s heart thump loudly in his chest. Harvey was competitive, and he would play dirty if he had to. They removed their shoes and socks while Donna reiterated her rules. “One spin per person, to make it interesting. Nothing but your hands and feet can touch the mat. The only touching allowed will be for re-positioning that’s unavoidable. No pushing, biting or tickling, and as referee my decisions are final,” she decreed. “Ready?” They both nodded. “Alright, game on!”  she said, spinning the spinner. She held it at an angle so neither man could see it. Her intent? To orchestrate the game in such a way that they would be twisted and tangled in increasingly suggestive positions. She wasn’t going to be happy until somebody’s crotch was in the other’s face. After two moves each, they were standing face to face in the middle, grinning at each other like idiots. When Harvey’s first hand went on to the mat, Mike chirped, “Go easy; you don’t want to tweak your back,” which earned him a signature eye roll. “I wouldn’t be so cocky. Louis told me how bad you were at tennis. I’m betting my “old man” back needs to hold up ten minutes at the most before your coordination loses it for you,” he replied smugly. A few moves later, Harvey was squatting down, both hands and feet on the mat and Mike had still only had to move his feet back and forth. Harvey turned to throw an accusing look at Donna as she called out to Mike, “Right foot, red.”   Figuring he was getting a little bored of standing practically still, Mike threw his leg over Harvey’s left shoulder, groin practically piggybacking it. He looked down at him and winked. Harvey shook his head with a chuckle.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to put me off, Rookie!”  he laughed. Mike’s next directive was right hand, red. He had two choices; lean over Harvey or, and this is what he went with, stretch back and put it as far behind him as he could, and in the process thrust his groin upward and right in front of Harvey’s face. Harvey swallowed thickly. The span of Mike’s legs in the position he had just put himself in had the fabric of his sweats stretched so tightly over his crotch that he could see an outline that left nothing to the imagination. He felt himself thicken as he imagined leaning forward and nuzzling at Mike’s cock. He unconsciously licked his lips.

Donna smirked to herself. Good puppy, she thought. **** Much to Harvey’s disgust, Mike wasn’t nearly as uncoordinated as he had thought. They had been moving through positions for twenty minutes now, Harvey getting antsier by the minute.  Mike was face down and crouched forward on all fours now. Harvey was hovering half over the top of him with both hands on yellow, next to Mike’s, when Donna directed, “Left-hand, red.”   It was at this point that he was fairly certain that Donna was playing the puppet master. Deciding it was time to play dirty to get the required outcome, he removed his left hand from the yellow circle, slid his palm up and over the curve of Mike’s ass and placed it on the red circle next to Mike’s, shifting to hover right over him as he did. Mike groaned, “Oh, it’s going to be like that is it?” he asked, wobbling slightly, thoroughly distracted by the heat emanating from Harvey’s body above him. “Rookie, I’m just getting started,” Harvey whispered into Mike’s ear, before running his tongue around the shell and earning himself a full body shudder.

Donna directed Mike to move his left foot to a blue circle. In doing so, he had to raise his hips; the action resulted in him grazing what felt like a hardened cock, above him. “Jesus, Harvey, are you hard?” Mike hissed, moving up against him again to double check. Harvey chuckled, “I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it's pretty darn obvious, don’t you think?” “You are sooo going to lose,” Mike taunted. “It’s not in my DNA to lose, Rookie,” he challenged, groaning and mumbling “Ohhh fuuuck…” into Mike’s ear. “I disagree. You've clearly already lost your self-respect,” Mike purred, arching and rubbing his ass against Harvey’s groin. “I could do this all day,” Harvey replied, biting his lip to stifle a moan as Mike continued to rub up against him. “Yeah, right. I bet you’d max out at three times a day,” Mike said cheekily. “RIGHT-HAND BLUE,” Donna yelled, interrupting them because even if they were putting on one hell of a show, she hated being ignored. “Okay, okay, keep your panties on,” Harvey joked, moving his hand. Ten minutes passed, and Harvey had done an 180° turn, trying to get away from Mike because he was fading fast and although he didn’t want to admit it, his back was killing him.  “Left hand, yellow,” Donna's voice sing-songed, as she put down the spinner and left the room, citing a bathroom break. Neither man really noticed.

Mike's face was as close to Harvey's cock as it could be without touching, which meant Harvey was stuck. An inch higher and he would graze Mike and lose his self-control. An inch lower, and his bottom would be on the mat, and he'd lose the game.  He steadied himself and looked down at Mike in between his legs and gave him a self-assured wink. He wisely chose to block out how much he enjoyed seeing Mike in that position.  So, of course, it was then that Mike decided to puff a long, hot breath of air against his cock and, well, fuck! His hips jerked up uncontrollably, upsetting his balance, his arm gave out, and he landed on his back and very nearly came in his pants. Harvey sat leaning against the couch, too tired to get up. Mike was sitting cross-legged on the Twister mat, grinning from ear to ear. They were both flushed and sweaty and looked like they’d just had at it. Yes, the situation had escalated quickly, but it's not like both parties hadn't seen this coming for a while. It was inevitable. “You know, I could still just pull the boss card and make you go,” Harvey alleged. “You won’t though.” Harvey sighed. Of course, he wouldn’t. “So I get to go schmooze the client,” Harvey said reluctantly. “You only have to attend for a few hours, right? Make an appearance until people have had a few drinks?” Mike asked hopefully. “Yeah, why?” “Did you maybe want to come over to my place after, you know, and hang out?”  Mike asked, his voice strong and steady, thankfully not mirroring his stomach that was twisting nervously. Harvey understood that Mike was asking for more than just a night and, yeah, he wanted to, but was that the best course of action considering his allegiance to one night stands up to this point? Yes, if he was ever going to be with someone, really commit to someone, it would be Mike. Mike who had had Harvey breaking his rules, one after another since the day they met. Now here they were. “Are you sure? You’re well aware that I’ll be a long way from my comfort zone here?” Harvey asked, searching Mike’s eyes. “I trust that you wouldn’t say yes unless you are ready,” Mike replied, bright blue eyes now glued to Harvey’s. Harvey studied Mike’s face, the face he had loved silently for such a long time that it felt like he had never not loved him. He climbed to his feet and reached a hand out to Mike, pulling him up and against Harvey. “How about after the benefit I take you out to dinner?” he asked, squeezing Mike lightly on the bicep. Mike beamed back at him. Of course, it was a yes. **** “You bought pizza for our first date? I thought you were classy?” Mike teased, waving Harvey inside. “Yeah, I thought we could stay in, have a beer, maybe play a little naked Twister,” he replied, with a shy smirk, revealing the game hidden under the pizza. Mike stared at him for a beat, took the pizza from him and put it on the entry table. “Fuck the pizza. Come here,” he said, pulling Harvey against him by the front of his shirt. They landed heavily against the entrance wall, lips meeting in a bruising kiss filled with heat and need. Harvey pulled at the button of Mike’s jeans as Mike sucked greedily on his tongue. It was urgent and messy, teeth clacked together and saliva ran down Harvey’s chin, but neither man cared. It was overdue and perfect. Harvey’s hand slid into Mike’s briefs, feeling him shudder as he wrapped his hand around him. Moaning into Harvey’s mouth, Mike yanked Harvey’s belt off and fumbled with the fly as he trailed sloppy kisses along his jawline, biting lightly on his bottom lip as he slid Harvey’s suit pants to the floor. Harvey hissed when Mike ran his palm over the outline of his throbbing, hard cock and into his briefs. His grip was firm, and Harvey bucked up into it when he circled his thumb, spreading Harvey’s pre-cum over the head. “Fuck, Mike,” he breathed against his mouth, twisting his wrist slightly, eliciting a delicious whimper as Mike dropped his forehead on to his shoulder. Their release came quickly, both men groaning and fucking up into each other’s fist as they came. They held on, leaning against each other, chests heaving and with sticky hands as they came down from the highest of highs together. “Harvey,” Mike muttered, “That was…” “Something else,” Harvey said, tilting Mike’s chin and placing a light kiss on his lips. “So, this um, naked Twister you were talking about? How long are you going to need to recover?” Mike asked cheekily. “You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he replied, grabbing Mike by the arm and grinning as he dragged him to the bedroom.  Harvey considers himself the winner of their second game of Twister. THE END.

Authors Notes: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY LOVERS!  I hope you enjoyed me breaking the rules of Twister for the good of two hot men getting together. :)

Thank You @novemberhush  for the beta xx

[novemberhush]

Blind Men And Bleeding Hearts

For @redamancy-eunoia who gave me the prompt, “I thought it was a one-night-stand and now we’re married”. I hope you enjoy it! 😘

When Harvey had let himself think about this (and he had thought about it, it seemed pointless to deny it now), about what his and Mike’s first time together might be like, he had always imagined it would be hungry, desperate, spur of the moment. Ripping each other’s clothes off and devouring each other. Heated, sloppy kisses and rough, groping hands. There may have been a wall involved. Or a desk. He’d always rather liked the idea of having sex in the office. With Mike.

But the reality was something far removed from fantasy, and Harvey found he didn’t mind in the slightest. Reality far outweighed the fantasy. This was how it was always supposed to be, he realised now. It was inevitable. And this was not just sex.

They had been tiptoeing round each other for weeks now. Years, really, Harvey supposed, but the tiptoeing had become rather more heavy-handed, if that made any sense, the past few weeks. It felt like they’d been in constant danger of tripping over their own feet and straight into each other’s arms ever since the night, not long into the new year, when Mike had shown up at his door with a suitcase in his hand and a wry smile on his face.

“I broke up with Rachel. Can I stay here for a while? Just until she finds somewhere else to live?” The words rushed out of him, as if he were afraid if he didn’t get them out now then he never would.

Harvey merely cocked an eyebrow at him and said, “Well, hello to you, too. Sure. But don’t you own the apartment? Shouldn’t she be the one turning up at Donna’s door right about now?”

“Yeah, I guess, but it felt a little harsh to be the guy who told her he didn’t want to marry her and threw her out of her home all in the same night.”

“So it was your choice, then? You were the one who ended it?” Harvey heard himself say, the words tumbling out of him much in the way Mike’s had just moments before. It seemed important to know that it had been Mike who called time on the relationship, not Rachel. The distinction mattered.

Mike looked at him then, the way he sometimes looked at him when he’d found something in a file or document Harvey had overlooked and he couldn’t quite believe Harvey had missed it.

“Yeah,” was all he said finally, voice low but somehow fond, or so it seemed, “yeah, I was the one who ended it.”

Harvey felt something settle in him then, easing gently, but unequivocally, into place. It felt suspiciously like his heart. Right then, though, it seemed more important to make sure Mike’s heart was doing okay. And Harvey knew just how to do that.

“Well, I guess the cure’s the same whichever way round it is, be it dumper or dumpee.”

“Yeah?” Mike smirked. “And what’s that, oh Wise One?”

“Scotch, ‘Star Trek’, junk food and work. And luckily for you I can provide all four. But we’ll leave the work for tonight.”

“You’re too kind,” Mike snorted.

“Well, that’s me. St. Harvey, your very own patron saint.”

Mike looked thoughtful then. “Mmm, I guess you are. But the real St. Harvey is the patron saint of musicians.” At Harvey’s once again raised eyebrow, he added by way of explanation, “Perils of an eidetic memory and a Catholic school education.”

Harvey nodded, before a slow grin spread across his face. “There’s a St. Michael, too, isn’t there? What’s he the patron saint of again? No, let me guess … lost causes and bleeding hearts?”

Mike returned the grin with a, “No, St. Jude is your guy for lost causes, and as for bleeding hearts, well, things get a little more complicated there. Let’s just stick with Michael.” He paused a moment. “You really wanna hear this?”

“Humour me,” Harvey replied. “Pretend you’re in ‘Dead Poets Society’ or something , o Captain, my Captain!” he couldn’t resist quoting.

“Okay, you asked for it. But pay attention because I’ll be testing you on this later,” Mike joked back before launching into a brief history of St. Michael.

“St. Michael, and, yes, I was named for him before you ask, is known as ‘the warrior saint’, but he’s technically an angel. Archangel, actually, and leader of all the angels. The patron saint of doctors, soldiers, police officers and firefighters, amongst others. Defender of the church, he also assists souls at the hour of death. An advocate for sinners, champion of the faithful and as commander of God’s army he is the chief opponent of Satan.” Mike did a little flourish with his hand and took a bow, much to Harvey’s amusement.

“A regular do-gooder, then. I might have guessed,” Harvey teased, but he had a feeling his eyes betrayed the fact that he couldn’t think of a more apt namesake for the man before him.

“Hey, while your guy’s off trying to get the latest teenybopper sensation or hair metal band to concentrate on making what can only be laughably referred to as music instead of screwing groupies and taking copious amounts of drugs, my guy’s busy kicking demon ass and fighting the good fight.”

“I hope he’s better with his fists than you, then. Wouldn’t do for the commander of God’s army to get his ass handed to him in a fight. And ‘teenybopper’, Mike? Seriously? And you call me old.”

“You are old, and don’t toy with me, Specter, or I’ll call the full force of God’s army down upon you.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t do that. You’re my own personal patron saint, too.” He left the and angel unsaid.

“It’s a thankless job, but someone’s gotta do it,” Mike grinned.

Harvey rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that Mike quite liked the idea of being Harvey’s personal saving grace. It was written all over his face.

As he went to pour them both a scotch a memory stirred within him and he felt the sudden need to share it with Mike.

“The patron saint of musicians, you said. St. Harvey. I already knew that.”

“You did?” Mike asked, as he accepted the glass Harvey handed him.

“Yeah. You’re not the only one who was named for a saint, you know. I remember when Marcus was born, my mom and dad were trying to come up with a name for him. My mom said it was her turn to choose because my dad got to name me. So I asked him why Harvey. I mean, I was only a kid at the time but even then I knew how important music was to him and I thought he might’ve been tempted to name me after one of the musicians he loved. Like Miles Davis or John Coltrane or Charles Mingus.”

“Or Thelonius Monk. I think you’d make a good Thelonius,” Mike chipped in, grinning in a way Harvey couldn’t resist smiling back at. “But definitely not a monk.”

“You’re a funny guy, Mike. Maybe you should pray to the patron saint of comedians? See if he can help you with your material. Now, shut up and let me finish my story. Anyway, he told me he chose Harvey because he was the patron saint of musicians, and given that my dad was a musician…”

“… it seemed like the natural choice,” Mike finished.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine you called anything else now.” Mike had that thoughtful look on his face again.

“Not even Thelonius?”

“No, not even that.”

“Well, you know what they say, Mike.” Mike’s raised eyebrow indicated that he didn’t.

Harvey huffed a laugh. “Well, forgive me if I get this wrong, not having an eidetic memory and all, but I think the Bard said something about, ‘That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet’. Or something like that.” He felt embarrassed then, quoting Shakespeare to Mike, and ‘Romeo and Juliet’ at that.

Mike, though, just smiled softly at him. “No, not something like that. Exactly that. Word perfect. I’m impressed. Of course, St. Harvey is also the patron saint of bards, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“He is?” Harvey hadn’t known that.

“Yep.”

“Huh. A man of many talents then, just like myself.”

Mike snorted. “Yeah, just a shame modesty isn’t one of them.”

“I seem to remember someone else once said something about modesty being the art of letting other people find out for themselves how good you are. I’ve always preferred to save them time and tell them upfront.”

Mike laughed again and Harvey felt warm and content and the rest of the night passed in a happy blur of scotch and pizza and the adventures of the USS Enterprise and her crew. But tiredness eventually crept up on them both. Harvey fetched blankets and pillows and, brushing off Mike’s protests that he could do it himself, proceeded to make up a makeshift bed on the couch, sending Mike off to the bathroom. He had to fight back the urge to offer to share his own bed with Mike.

When Mike returned, all minty fresh breath, ruffled hair and soft cotton sleep clothes, Harvey felt all his own breath leave him. He’d seen Mike like this before of course, when he’d stayed with Harvey in the aftermath of the Logan Sanders betrayal (and, yes, Harvey thought of it as a betrayal and not just some easily forgotten, or forgiven, slip), and it had affected him then, too. Seeing Mike like this, relaxed, comfortable and ready for bed, in his condo. But now, his heart (and other parts) ached even more at the sight, his love, and he knew that’s what it was now, being the sort that only deepened with time, rather than waned.

He stood there, frozen to the spot, as Mike settled himself on the couch, yawning mightily before burrowing into the nest of blankets and pillows.

Harvey wasn’t sure how long he stood there looking down at Mike, but he suspected it was too long for someone supposed to feel only friendship for the man currently cocooned on his couch in his Egyptian cotton bed linen with the ridiculously high thread count.

It was Mike’s voice that finally snapped him out of it.

“Harvey, you’re staring.”

“Hmm. What? Am I? Oh. Sorry,” he stammered, before getting a grip on himself. “Well, I guess I’ve never seen a human burrito before,” he joked lamely, gesturing at the way Mike had seemed to swaddle himself in the blankets.

Smooth, Specter, he rebuked himself, embarrassed at his weak attempt at humour to deflect from the fact that it had been Mike he’d been staring at, pure and simple.

“Um … so, goodnight then?” Mike said, making the statement sound more like a question.

Harvey gave himself a mental shake and abruptly moved off towards his own room with a hasty, “Goodnight, Mike”, thrown over his shoulder. He had just reached his bedroom door when he heard Mike’s voice again, quiet in the still of the condo, and with a tone Harvey could only describe as ‘wistful’.

“Harvey?”

“Yeah?”

“St. Harvey is also the patron saint of the blind.”

And Harvey didn’t know what to say to that. So he just lingered at his door a moment before murmuring goodnight again and disappearing into his room.

Mike’s words followed him, though, and he tossed and turned all night, pondering the meaning behind them and Mike’s reason for saying them. He had a feeling he knew what it was all about, but if he was wrong he would ruin everything with Mike and lose him for good. And if there was one thing Harvey was sure of it was that he couldn’t stand for that to happen.

And so it had went for weeks. Days spent working alongside each other, leading into evenings where they made their way home together, leading to nights on the couch, side by side.

Sometimes a record played in the background or the TV was on or there were papers spread before them as they worked on a case.

Some nights there was take-out and some nights they worked beside each other in the kitchen, preparing dinner together, finding they both liked to cook when dinner would be shared with the other.

Some nights there were quiet discussions of times past, secrets confided, memories shared, all so much easier than Harvey had ever found they could be before.

Other nights no words were necessary and they just sat together, listening to music or reading. Or just looking at each other. Neither of them ever spoke about it. What was there to say? Harvey, for his part, couldn’t get enough of looking at Mike. Drinking his fill, and still coming up thirsty.

And yet neither had made a move towards the other. Each afraid perhaps of upsetting the gentle equilibrium that had settled between them. Afraid of shattering something so precious and never being able to put it back together again.

Until now. Until tonight.

It had happened quite by accident. Neither of them had planned it. Or so Harvey thought, anyway. He’d have to remember to ask Mike later if he had planned it. Had planned to fall asleep like that, gently tilting sideways in his seat until his head had ended up on Harvey’s shoulder, and the warm, welcome weight of it had pulled Harvey down into sleep too. Until they had both finally awakened, curled into each other and Mike had lifted his head to look up at Harvey and Harvey had lowered his to look at Mike, and they had found their lips so close to touching that it seemed ridiculous not to just close that tiny gap. That tiny, final, infinitesimal distance between them that was unthinkable now they had finally closed it. No, Harvey didn’t think Mike had planned it, but he was glad God, the angels, patron saints, the universe or sheer dumb luck had.

And it wasn’t anything like Harvey had imagined their first time together to be. It wasn’t the all-consuming white heat of lust that fuelled their lovemaking tonight (although he felt sure there would be other nights ahead of them for that). No, tonight was the steady, gentle burn of a passion ignited into life years ago, but carefully, deliberately, wilfully ignored until it had flared into a flame so warm and incandescent it could no longer go unacknowledged.

Harvey couldn’t remember why he’d tried to fight it in the first place. Fear, probably. Fear that giving into this fire, this love, Mike, wouldn’t just burn him, but would leave him unrecognisable, even to himself. Now, though, he knew he would come out of this conflagration the stronger for it. Forged in fire, as it were. Not that he ever intended walking out on this fire. Not now he’d finally succumbed to it and found what he’d wanted all along, just waiting for him there to open his eyes and see. Mike, waiting patiently for him to catch up.

Mike, who seemed to be the blind one now by the way he slowly trailed his fingertips over Harvey as if he were a book written in Braille. A holy book. A book Mike with his eidetic memory needed to read and commit to that memory. Mike who left scorch marks on Harvey’s body in the wake of those tender, trailing fingertips and then treated them with the salve of his lips, kisses following that trail of touches. The air so still around them, their breaths and gasps and hushed, reverent whispers the only sounds in the dimly-lit bedroom.

Harvey hears the Bard’s words again, more ‘Romeo and Juliet’, ‘And palm to palm, is holy palmers’ kiss’, as his hand finds Mike’s at the moment of joining and their palms press together for a moment. A visual representation of their souls doing the same, before they find the gaps between and lock together, fingers and souls intertwining as bodies merge into one.

Time seems to stop and yet Harvey knows this night will be over all too soon. But there will be other nights. A lifetime of them, he is sure. St. Jude isn’t needed now. No lost causes here.

Harvey has never felt more cherished, more loved or more known that he does tonight, lying in bed with Mike in his arms, basking in the afterglow of something he’s never known the like of before. He’s never had so complete a feeling of knowing he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. That they’re both where they’re supposed to be.

Mike breaks the silence first, of course.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not blind anymore.”

“Actually, I think I might’ve went a little blind there when I cam…” Harvey starts to joke, before Mike issues a gentle slap to his chest to shut him up, and buries his face shyly against Harvey’s shoulder.

“It’s a bit late to go all shy on me now, kid.” Harvey can’t resist teasing even as he feels himself fall a little deeper in love, charmed as he is by the blush he can see blooming like roses on Mike’s cheeks.

“You make me shy,” Mike mumbles into his neck. “And you make me bold,” he adds, his hand once again trailing down Harvey’s torso to dip beneath the sheet covering them and do a little teasing of his own.

“Mmm, so I see,” is all Harvey can get out before turning his head to once again seek out Mike’s lips.

It’s a while before they settle comfortably against each other again, but when they do a fragment of some half-remembered hymn floats to the surface of Harvey’s mind and he can’t help grinning.

“‘I once was blind, but now I see.’ You’re a good Catholic boy, Mike, isn’t that how the song goes?”

“I don’t know, are you saying I’m the amazing grace that saved a wretch like you?”

“Your Father Walker would probably say it’s blasphemy, but, yeah, Mike, that’s what I’m saying.”

Harvey is not expecting the bellowing laughter that suddenly erupts out of his bed partner. For one awful moment it occurs to him that perhaps he has read too much into this night, that perhaps Mike doesn’t feel the same way about it as Harvey. Doesn’t feel the same way about Harvey as Harvey does Mike. It must show on his face because as quickly as it began the laughter subsides and Mike rushes to reassure him, taking Harvey’s face between his hands and kissing him with a fire so intense Harvey is surprised it doesn’t set off his smoke detector.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Mike whispers, voice fervent and eyes determined when he ends the kiss. “I’m not laughing at what you said. I’m not laughing at you. It was only that I just realised it’s after midnight and it hit me what day it is, that’s all.”

Harvey’s brain tries to make sense of what Mike means, but right now it’s still swimming in a sea of pheromones and possibilities, and the best he can come up with is a confused, “Tuesday?”

Mike snorts and fixes him with that look that says he’s missed something again. “No, you idiot. Wow, if this is what sex does to your brain remind me not to sleep with you before any important meetings or court cases. Not the day, Harvey. The date. What date is it?”

Harvey’s brain is now stuck on the fact that Mike has basically confirmed that there will be more nights like this, so later he will figure he can be forgiven for being a little slow on the uptake with this one.

“The date? Umm, let me see, Monday was 13th and this is now Tuesday so that would make it February…” his voice trails off as it hits him exactly what Mike is trying to get across to him. “February 14th. Valentine’s Day.”

“St. Valentine’s Day,” Mike corrects him, emphasising the ‘saint’.

“So, do you think this means we have his blessing, then? The patron saint of lovers has blessed our union?” Harvey enquires, eyes twinkling and heart giddy with joy.

“I think that’s exactly what it means,” Mike replies, somewhat giddy himself, as Harvey pulls him in for another kiss.

“Why did we have to do this in New York and not Vegas?” Harvey asks cryptically when they come up for air again. A raised eyebrow from Mike is all that’s necessary for him to explain his seemingly random question.

“Because if we were in Vegas I could be dragging you out to find the nearest wedding chapel right about now.”

“Oh?” Mike smiles, eyebrow quirked again. “What? Sort of a ‘I thought it was a one-night-stand and now we’re married’ type of thing? Is that what you mean?”

“No, Mike, this was never gonna be just a one time thing. At least, not for me. Maybe that’s why I fought it so hard for so long. Closed my eyes and pretended I was blind to the possibility of us. Because I knew there’d never be anyone for me again after you, and that scared me. Because if I had you for my own, even for one night, and you left me, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You’re never gonna find out ‘cos that’s never gonna happen,” Mike murmurs, rubbing his nose along Harvey’s jaw. “I’m never leaving you. Not now, not ever.”

“Good, because if you did I’d just pray to St. Anthony and he’d track you down and bring you back to me in no time,” Harvey responds, turning his face to Mike’s again and catching the quizzical look there before that Catholic school education reasserts itself.

“St. Anthony?” Mike frowns adorably and Harvey chuckles at how far gone he is for this man that not only does he think his frown is adorable, but he actually used the word adorable, even if only inwardly. Then that eidetic memory kicks in and the frown turns upside down, in a way that would make Pollyannas everywhere gleeful. “The patron saint of lost items. Right?”

“Right,” Harvey answers, not sure where he himself had gleaned that little scrap of knowledge. Not in Catholic school, anyway. But it doesn’t much matter. His thoughts have already turned in another direction. Back to one he had been contemplating a few minutes ago. To one he’s been contemplating from the moment Mike’s lips first met his. And probably long before that, if he is being honest.

“You got any plans for this weekend, Mike?”

“Besides ravishing you?”

“Yeah, besides that.”

“No. Why? What’ve you got in mind?”

“Wanna take a trip to Vegas with me?”

An armful of naked Mike, pressing himself flush against Harvey, and peppering his face with kisses from those lips of his (those ‘two blushing pilgrims’ as the Bard would say) between smiles and muttered yeses, is just the answer he was hoping for.

[seasless]

For a moment, Mike’s too surprised to understand, but he relaxes into the embrace. It’s sweet and rare, and Mike’s learned to savor these, hoard them for later. He exhales more tension than he’d been aware of at the feel of Harvey’s cheek against his own, but still. A Christmas gift, just a taste, maybe enough to hold onto and then -

Harvey presses his lips to Mike’s temple, and Mike makes this raw, cramped sound into the front of Harvey’s peacoat. A warm hand comes up to cup the back of his head.

“Oh, kid,” Harvey says softly.

Mike sniffs hard and tries to anticipate whatever jab is coming next. “What’re you gonna do with me, huh?”

But Harvey just squeezes him a little tighter. “Idiot. That plan’s never changed. I'm gonna keep you.”

Mike breaks.

[arh581958]

Like Daddy Like Harvey

Title: Like Daddy Like Harvey Fandom: Suits (TV) Pairing: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter Summary: Every year, for the past three years, PSL had hosted an annual Halloween Trick-or-Treat for the employee’s children. The event served a dual purpose of giving the everyone a half-day break and a mini-social event where people from different departments can interact—an initiative Harvey started after becoming managing partner. This year, Mike and Gabe have a little surprise up their sleeve for the costume contest.

***

“Harvey,” he explains to her, “He lets Gabe away with everything—even chocolate milk in the morning. Can you believe it? The Harvey Specter—health freak extraordinaire—can’t even resists his own son when Gabe asks for it in the morning. I said that he can only drink it before bedtime. No pre-made stuff too. It needs to be cocoa so we can control the sweetness.”

It looked, for a moment, like Rachel’s jaw dropped to the floor. “Who are you and what did you do to my best friend? You know, the one who loves burgers and pizza with the cheese in the crust?”

Mike rolled his eyes, snorting. “I had a kid, Rachel, that’s what. That sort of thing just happens when you get a kid. Plus,” he leans in, conspiratorially, “You don’t know how wild a kid can get when you haven’t seen Harvey’s kid with a sugar rush. We’re going to have to regulate the candy he gets today so he doesn’t go up then crash.”

“Daddy?” Gabe, who hasn’t moved an inch, tugged on Mike’s sleeve. “Milk, please.”

***

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