When Mike struggles to keep his head up and his eyes open, Harvey finally calls it a night for both of them, pulling Mike up and out of his seat on Harvey’s couch. The action pulls them close together and Mike leans forward, presses smooth lips to his, pulls back. Mike blinks at him, waits for his reaction, wets his lips with the tip of his tongue. Harvey’s hands clench Mike’s ribs.
Mike shakes his head, fixes his eyes on Harvey with a smirk.
When Harvey sends him a disbelieving look, he says, “You want me to say the alphabet backwards to prove it to you?”
“That’s if you’re drunk.”
Mike smiles, leans closer. “C’mon Harvey. C’mon.”
The kiss is hard, demanding, but the brat practically asked for it, and Mike’s laugh tells him he’s enjoying it just as much as Harvey is. Then it’s just a flick or two of the wrist and Mike is standing in the middle of his living room, naked, whining at a still-clothed Harvey. Harvey slaps him on the ass, grins when Mike yelps.
Harvey strips down slowly, piece by piece, lays each article gently across the back of the sofa, listens to Mike’s breathing get faster and faster as he stands, watches. When Harvey finally lays his boxers on top of the pile, Mike jumps on him, shifts his hips, curls himself around Harvey. Harvey grabs Mike’s ass, walks them across the condo until they’re backed into a wall. Harvey grinds his hips against Mike’s, swallows his gasps, pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth and Mike rolls his hips, gasps for air as he drops his head back against the wall with a thud. Harvey thumbs a nipple, latches onto Mike’s neck, worries the skin gently with his mouth. Mike reaches down a shaky hand and takes them both in hand and Harvey lifts his head, breathes through his mouth hard, claims Mike’s mouth as his breathing becomes erratic, hot, perfectly desperate.
There’s an empty bottle of wine that cost more than Mike’s couch standing empty on the table behind them – tonight had been all about teaching Mike the things he needed to know, in the safety of his own apartment so that he wouldn’t embarrass Harvey in front of the partner’s at the next Pearson Hardman fundraiser. Harvey had cooked what tasted like a fine gourmet meal (and if Mike were being honest, he suspected that Donna had done a very good job finding a Michelin star chef who would be willing to deliver food for the right amount) and explained to him what utensils to use when – like Harvey thought he was a hooker who was going to count the tongs on his fork before pulling out packets of ketchup from his (man)purse. But dinner was over and Mike was done being a good little student, and so instead he had maneuvered them down onto the floor, his deft fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt and expertly sliding down his zipper, his mouth hot against Harvey’s neck, his tongue sliding out to feel the thrum of his pulse as he whispered Harvey’s words back to him, “You need to learn to appreciate the finer things in life.”
Everything used to be so simple.
It was early mornings, and late nights. It was stale cold pizza and the hot bright burn of smoke in their lungs. It was laughing and wrestling each other to the floor over the stupidest things. It was video games all day and tumbling into bed together at night.
Things used to be so easy. Things used to be so simple.
Mike used to be able to look at Trevor and smile, to see only the friend that had supported him for so long. And Trevor was happy, happy and carefree in a way he had lost with time. They used to be happy, they used to love each other, they used to care. Now though….
Now there’s none of that left.
Just a hole where there had once been family, just one more loss for Mike in a series. Just one more aching bleeding wound that won’t ever heal. One more hurt.
Now it’s angry phone calls and threats. Now it’s glares sent across crowded sidewalks and plots twisting sickly sweet between them, dragging them both down. Now it’s only hurt and bitterness.
Things can never go back.
There were only three times Mike saw that look in Harvey’s face. Mike remembers a look on Harvey. That look of pride in his face when a mentor sees his protege learns something critical. A look that crinkles Harvey’s forehead and this hybrid of a smirk and smile that would be plastered on Harvey’s face. His eyes lighting up and effectively removes years of hard work off his sculpted face. The first on was when they first met. Mike’s confidence and intelligence practically drowning the whole room rubbed off on Harvey and reminded him of his younger self. That tiny glimmer Harvey saw that maybe… just maybe this scraggly kid can emerge from his pathetic excuse of a life and become just like him. The second time was when he learned Harvey’s mantra in the office. “There’s always a winner”. Harvey was practically beaming at him a split second after the words were spurted out. Like a father who just taught his son how to shoot a ball or drive his first car. The last time Mike will see that look on Harvey’s face was the day he made Senior Partner at Pearson-Specter. That night, after the expected “Congratulations, you made Senior Partner!” office party, Harvey took him out for dinner and drinks at their favorite restaurant. It was past 11pm, but Harvey had made arrangements for them to be alone and have a quiet time together. And this is when he made the speech. “I want you to stop, breathe, and remember this moment because everything you’ve worked for comes full circle. Here. In this moment. For the rest of your life. Don’t forget where you came from, and don’t forget the people who helped you get here. What comes after this is just the excess of what you’ve done. Power, respect, and more importantly, humility”. That night, Mike has never slept more peacefully in his life.
There are moments where he just can’t hold it in.
For the most part he is the master of concealed emotions, his poker face in place from the moment he steps into the foyer of Pearson Hardman until the second he leaves. And while he can admit that his no emotions bullshit is just that, bullshit lies he told to protect himself, the principal was one that served him well and helped him to his position of Senior Partner and best closer in the city.
But there are moments, tiny fragments in time, where the mask slips and the truth is revealed to anyone who cared to see it. Like when he would walk past the bullpen but stop dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Mike, working diligently on his case, biting his lip in concentration, looking like there was nowhere else in the world he belonged except for right here. He can’t help himself, taking that small step closer, smiling with pride and warmth and something else, unidentifiable but strong.
He watches for a few minutes, unable to tear his eyes away, doesn’t even blink. And then Mike, as though he can feel Harvey’s stare, looks up and catches Harvey’s eyes.
Harvey would feel embarrassed about being caught out or might start composing excuses in his head, but then Mike smiles at him from across the room, small but genuine. If there are other people in the room Harvey doesn’t know and he definitely doesn’t care, he just luxuriates in this moment for as long as he can. And when the noise and chaos of the room breaks through his reverie, Harvey nods at Mike, before turning and walking away.
Mike focused on the way his lungs pressed out against his chest, forcing past the instinct to hold his breath as he waited for the heavy wooden door in front of him to open. He was debating the wisdom of knocking at 2am in the first place when he was suddenly looking at an annoyed face instead of wood-grain. Biting back his immediate gut reaction to snap at the other man, Mike stepped back and observed him instead. Harvey looked drawn, his tux jacket discarded and tie hanging loose. Mike was sure he wasn’t looking any better, given the fact that his entire social life was in shambles and the man standing in front of him still looked like sex on legs while Mike looked like a homeless kid in old jeans and a worn t-shirt.
“Have I mentioned lately that I’m moving?” Harvey asked sarcastically. His face was masked in annoyance but he still stepped aside enough for Mike to push past him without actually having to push at all. The older man followed behind after a moment’s hesitation and Mike turned once he reached the sofa to find Harvey leaned against the kitchen island, recently emptied liquor glass in hand.
“Have I mentioned lately that I hate you?” Mike sneered in return, his fists clenched at his sides. Harvey merely cocked his head at the outburst. “I didn’t tell her. I couldn’t. I can’t lose everything I’ve worked for. I can’t lose this.” The blond bit off the last word in the hopes that Harvey would let it slide. A raised eyebrow was all that indicated the older man had caught on and Mike’s anger rushed to the surface before he could make any sort of remark.
“You still want to act like this is a joke, don’t you?” Mike took a step forward and was mildly amused to see Harvey flinch slightly as his voice got louder. “You think relationships only matter if you’re still the center of the fucking universe but it doesn’t work that way, Harvey. Other people matter. I matter.”
“I never said you didn’t,” Harvey cut in, matching Mike’s harsh tone. “I said she didn’t.”
“Yes she did!” Mike realized he was shouting at the same time Harvey slammed his glass down on the tiled island. The other man stepped forward and grabbed Mike’s arm.
“No,” he said quietly, firmly. “She didn’t.”
“Fuck you,” Mike forced out. Harvey only smirked at him, tightening his grip slightly before letting go and stepping away, arms out at his sides in invitation.
“If you really think you can.”
Their first official date is dinner at Harvey’s condo. Mike has been looking forward to it all week while still feeling a ridiculous amount of nerves considering they have known each other for nearly three years and have been sleeping together for over a month. He spends a not inconsiderable amount of time deciding what to wear and what wine to bring and is a jumble of excited nerves when he walks straight into Harvey’s condo (without knocking) to find Harvey putting the finishing touches on their food (salmon grilled in white wine marinade with vegetables and rice) and the meal is absolutely delicious – even when it is cold and eaten three hours later.
The sensation was surprising on two levels – one) he had little experience with jealousy because for the longest time he got pretty much everything he ever wanted, and two) he never expected to feel this emotion or anything remotely similar to it over Mike. But he couldn’t help it – the young barista was flirting shamelessly with Mike and Mike was most definitely flirting back. It forced things into clear perspective – all those feelings he had for Mike that had skittered along the surface of his perception and until now were dutifully ignored, they came crashing down around him and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just mindlessly stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around Mike’s wrist and led him away.
Harvey stopped short at the sight of Mike cross-legged on the floor in front of Harvey’s minute DVD collection (he’s got better things to do than watch movies all the time). Mike’s knobbly knees are stuck out on either side of him and Harvey’s happy to realize Mike isn’t wearing pants. He had his underwear and a t-shirt on and Harvey thought he’d be just fine with Mike in this attire all the time. Mike leaned forward, most likely to decipher which of Harvey’s Star Trek DVDS was the 2009 movie, and Harvey ran his tongue over his bottom lip as the top of Mike’s ass made an appearance. Mike’s briefs were too small, or the t-shirt was. Harvey really didn’t care which. The strip of skin revealed was pale and smooth and Harvey wanted to run his tongue across it. He was half hard already when Mike twisted around and held up the movie he’d been looking for. Usually Mike would have rolled his eyes and told Mike almost—almost—all of the other Star Trek movies were better than the newest one but that would just be because Harvey’s kind of old-fashioned, according to Mike. But Harvey just worried his lip between his teeth, his eyes tracing Mike’s spine under the threadbare tee all the way down to his pert ass. When his gaze returned to Mike’s face, Mike’s eyes were dark and the movie was no longer in hand as he stood and actually sauntered toward Harvey.
Mike’s been testing his patience all night, teasing him, trailing his nimble little fingers up and down Harvey’s leg, nudging and stroking along Harvey’s inseam, his fly. He knows Harvey can’t do anything, won’t do anything - the little brat - not with the client and his wife sitting directly across the table from them, and he’s clearly enjoying himself, eyes sparkling as he answers Sophia Hall’s question.
Harvey cuts into his steak, reassures Jim Hall when he begins to relate his fear that his brother will delay the merger, spreads his legs a little wider when he feels Mike cup him. Out of the corner of his eye Harvey can see Mike’s mouth twitch, and he squeezes Harvey gently, presses his thumb down against Harvey’s thigh. When Jim and Sophia are called away, Mike gives Harvey’s cock a final squeeze before they stand, offer their hands to shake, present more assurances.
Harvey watches them walk out, wipes his mouth with his napkin, walks off toward the bathroom.
He knows Mike will follow.
Harvey leans toward the mirror, watches as Mike walks into the bathroom behind him, watches as he locks the door behind them, his eyes glued to Harvey’s. Mike walks up behind him slowly, reaches his hand out to slide under Harvey’s jacket, and Harvey spins, grabs Mike, bends him over the sink.
Mike looks up at him through his lashes, their eyes meeting in the mirror, and Harvey reaches a hand underneath Mike, unbuckles his belt, shoves his pants and boxers down until they’re swimming around his ankles, puddled on the floor. Harvey gives Mike’s ass a light slap, smirks at Mike’s yelp, rucks up his shirt before he unzips his pants and pulls his cock free. He grabs Mike’s hips, pulls his ass back against him, laughs softly at Mike’s moan.
Harvey leans forward, nips at Mike’s ear.
Mike drops a hand to take himself in hand and Harvey swats it away, grasps it, plants it firmly on the counter. Mike drops his head on the counter. Groans.
“That’ll teach you to tease.”