Fill: the Piledriver Waltz and the Sunshine of Your Love
This was for this lovely little prompt. I ended up being the second fill (as well as a late fill because I was late in posting due to problems posting Anonymously), so I hope the other Anon author doesn't mind... I don't want to stpe on toes !
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It wasn't hard at all for Harvey to manage to take his pick of women, and it was even easier for them to choose him in return, not that that was at all particularly surprising. He was gorgeous, he was charming, and, what seemed to appeal to very attractive women who were just his type, he was keen on spending money if it meant he could land a particularly flaunting morsel of woman. And, truly, he was above all those three things when it came right down to it, if he had to say so himself. He might have even said the same thing while under oath.
So either way you looked at it, it wasn't long until Harvey had charmed this busty auburn-haired beauty to invite him into her bed. Of course, because he gorgeous and charming and loved to flaunt what he had about himself if it meant assuring himself a good lay (as well as an even easier ride home), he was, in fact, very keen to let said beauty direct his driver to her place in his town car.
Women loved the town car. They liked it even better when he called his 'town car,' like that somehow managed to push him up amongst the rich, country club type of men, and this woman certainly wasn't any different. She had wide - oh-so wide - hips and a nice, trimmed waist, which meant she worked to keep her appearance up like that. Harvey liked that. Oh, and he definitely liked how she practically clung to his arm and pressed her breasts well enough against his side when she giggled out her address and the quickest way to get there from where they were on their date as she called it, except, no, oh, no, Harvey didn't date. No, he preferred his women high-strung and his relationships un-strung, as it were. He didn't like being tied down if he didn't have to be, or at least not to the women that he casually took to late night scandal-worthy affairs. They never seemed to mind, not that he ever had to stick around long enough to find out if they did or not, and he himself certainly didn't mind.
"--just take the street after the Pearson Harden building. You know the one?"
His eyes caught the nod in the rearview mirror to her, and he inwardly wanted to sigh. That would be like going to work. Well, maybe the rain that was pouring down from the skies would obscure it from view. If not, she better hope she's worth it.
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It had already been a long day at work, starting with Mike getting up a little earlier than he usually did due to the incessant piledriver waltz outside his apartment building and spilling scalding coffee on his favourite shirt, ending with teeth grinding over highlighters over merger papers, and plenty of office gossip about him in between both already torturous events, most of which wasn't oh-so carefully whispered about the common rooms. What was even worse is that just as Mike was finally able to kick back for a few moments, clean up his desk to sort everything for Harvey, put all the other papers into his bag neatly, and admit to himself that even after all of his effort to put into research for his cases, certainly wasn't likely to get any kind thanks in return from aforementioned boss of his, is that before he could even finish putting said papers into said bag for said boss, he spies a pair of black eyes looming in the corner of his vision of the edge of his cubicle that makes him shiver all the way down his spine. Louis.
"Mike," Louis says at last (god, how long had he been staring at him?). "Harvey left me a message to tell you to get those merger papers for the Cunoval case all sorted."
Mike took in a quick breath and let it out just as fast, opening his mouth and then closing it just as quickly before he really decided to speak. "And, when, exactly, did Harvey tell you to relay that message to me?"
"This morning."
Mike blinked. "And when does he want them by?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"You realize you waited all day to tell me this, and it's now the end of your workday as well as mine?" Louis just smiled and patted the edge of his cubicle before he walked away, and Mike felt a sting of anger pierce him. First, what just happened? Second, why didn't Harvey tell him himself? Well, he hadn't amen Harvey all day, which, yes, was particularly unusual, but why had he told Louis this instead of asking Donna or, better yet, texting him or calling him or something? Because, really, Louis? Had Harvey gone insane?
He pushed himself quickly out of his chair in a huff, moving quickly to grab the folder for the Cunoval case and tossing his bag over his shoulder. He just wanted to go home now.
He pushed out of the building quickly and made his way to his bike, quickly unlocking it and throwing a leg over, hands to the handlebars and-- wait, his jacket. He looked at his sleeves, marveling at the white that was beginning to become speckled with rain. He must have left his jacket upstairs. He groaned and took himself back off the bike, propping it back up so he could jog back to get his jacket from the office. When had he even taken it off? He honestly couldn't remember. Oh, if Harvey had seen him without his suit jacket...
He peered back into the office after stepping off the elevator, unsure of why he was checking to make sure nobody was watching him step back in. Maybe, yeah, he was a little embarrassed at having forgotten his jacket at his desk, but the light rain was making his hair stick to his face, and his shirt may or may not have been more than a little transparent against his skin, and he'd really rather not have his coworkers literally being able to see through his clothes. Harvey really would kill him if he was there. Even more so now than before, he just wanted to go home.
The elevator ride back down seemed to take a longer time than the way up, but maybe that was because he was more acutely aware of the fact that he just wanted to be home already, and he already didn't like the fact that, yes, he had his bike, and, yes, he'd have to bike home in the rain. He didn't like the idea, but sooner rather than later was just fantastic with him. And, hey, at least the rain was light, right?
Wrong.
Mike stepped out back into the night and the rain was like hail on his head, pattering against his head in a rough manner rather than just drip, drip, dipping into his brain. No, this was more like keeping him underwater until the water was just sloshing around in his head. Wonderful. Well, at least he had his bike. Meant he would get home sooner, he thought as he made his way back up to where he left his bike, and the sooner the better, now. Really, really better.
Except, yeah, no.
He turns frantically about himself, his clothes makes squishing noises with their level of water log that is nearly enough to make his stomach make the same squelching sounds, and he is really becoming uncomfortable as he looks for his bike.
"Aw, come on!" He shouts and kicks at a puddle, which probably wasn't the best idea he ever had, as it splashes up his pant leg, but it's not like he could be any more wet anyway. But seriously, who in their right mind would steal his bike? He looks up and down the street, hoping to catch the sign of some guy on a bike making their getaway, but he doesn't see anyone else out walking aside from a redhead woman across the street, but at least she has an umbrella with her. He can't say much for the end of her long, silky red dress though - she's walking so fast there's a splash back across the bottom of her dress. She must have been out to a club in a get up like that.
He sighs and takes his kind off her, making to tuck his bag under his arm, so as to protect the papers and the Cunoval case. If Harvey saw water-stained papers... well, he'd rather be waterlogged and miserable than dead.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a black car pull to the side of the road, and a little fear bubbled in him for a second (he really has watched too many movies about mafia and gangs, hasn't he?), but then he really looks, and he recognizes the car. Or, rather, the 'town car' as Harvey likes to call it, and since nearly day one, Harvey has made sure that Mike will recognize it anywhere. He's doesn't need eidetic memory for that.
Before he can even realize, though, he's being wrangled into the car, and, okay, yeah, he struggles a little, because this just turned from 'bad day' to 'oh shit Trevor what the fuck have you done and why am I being kidnapped,' but then there's a voice, telling him to "Sit up and get off me - you're all wet," just as the door slams itself shut agains the pouring rain, and he instantly calms hearing that voice.
"Harvey," he says in a relieved breath, realizing his head is basically in the man's lap, who just does that casual trademark frown/smirk of his down at him.
"Mike," he parrots back in imitation, and Mike finds that he can't really move. Or he doesn't want to. He isn't sure. But a longer moment after the car turns back out into traffic, Harvey gives him that look that really reads 'seriously, Mike, get off - René will kill you if I don't first if you ruin my suit,' and instantly Mike is up and sitting beside Harvey, moving his bag to the floor so it won't be as wet with him cradling it to his chest. He takes to looking out the window a moment, but the city is just smears of light across the tinted glass due to the rain. "How was the merger for Cunoval?" Harvey asks, and Mike looks instantly to him, feels a pinch of nervousness from way Harvey isn't even look at him, just forward towards the driver expectantly.
"Yeah, about that," Mike begins, but doesn't bother to finish, turning his eyes away again because he's sure Harvey's will turn to him, and he'd really rather not look at the scrutiny probably pouring off from his boss in waves.
"Louis?" Harvey says, and when Mike looks back, he sees Harvey finally meets his gaze, as he hadn't looked to him as he had expected. Harvey seemed very... amused.
"Louis," Mike agrees, and immediately decides he doesn't really like the amused look Harvey is giving him. Well, okay, he does, because it looks good on Harvey (although he's pretty sure Harvey could make anything look good), but he loathes it for the moment because he's amused at Mike's misery. Mike makes a face, which just makes Harvey raise an eyebrow.
"Honestly," Mike begins as he sits back against eh seat with a serious face. "The man is a rat. He looks like a naked mole rat, too." He doesn't know why he says it, kind of knows he shouldn't say it, but Harvey just laughs beside him, which makes a little thrill run up Mike's spine, and he can't help but smile as the car makes it's way to his apartment.
Say, when did Ray even know how to get to his apartment anyway?
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"And that's about all I know for the other mergers," Mike finishes, thumping his head back against the head of the seat, and Harvey throws him a look that's apparently strong enough to make Mike straighten in his seat. Harvey likes that.
"Well, that's all well and good, but we've been at your apartment for a few minutes now, and I'd really love it if you'd stop soaking into my seat," Harvey shoots to Mike with a grin, who just studies him for a moment, like the nervous little associate he is, his wet hair clinging to his forehead and wet pants clinging to his seat, and Harvey can't really help but notice as Mike turns to collect his bag that he can see through the dress shirt under his suit jacket. He really is just a waterlogged little mouse, isn't he?
"You know what, Mike?" Harvey says suddenly, just as soon as Mike was beginning to open the door to let himself out up to his apartment, who in turn looks back at him, at the little smile he knows he has on, which is probably making some kind of thought run through his pretty little head along the lines of 'dear God, since when did Harvey Specter actually smile like that?' But he continues anyway, "Why don't you take the day off tomorrow?"
"Really?" Mike asks back, and Harvey can see the hope dancing in those big, blue doe eyes of his eyes.
"No," Harvey gives back, and he can see Mike shrink back again to leave again as his smile turns into a smirk. He's really starting to like that kicked puppy look on him. All wet and nearly cowering like that, he really pulls it off.
His thoughts of owning Mike as a puppy that really shouldn't be as kinky as they came out, but those thoughts are derailed as Mike turns to leave again and Harvey clears his throat, lounging back in his seat while Mike looks back at him as he makes a gesture to himself.
"What?" Mike asks, and he can hear the slight ping of impatience, like he just wants to run away already. He really is a cute little puppy, isn't he?
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Harvey asks, gesturing again to himself.
Mike gives him a confused look, and says more as a real question than an invitation, "Do you want to come inside?"
Well, hadn't been expecting that one. Harvey was more aiming for the ever-appropriate thanking and bowing down to kiss his holy feet because he just rescued him from the worst rainstorm seemingly ever, but that works just as well. Harvey levels his associate with an amusedly surprised look before he nods to Ray with a smile and bidding him goodnight.
The rain was quieted to light patters again as they step out of the car, and Mike shifts foot to foot in a nervous manner while Harvey looks at him expectantly. After a long moment of Mike just staring at his face, he smirks; "Well?"
His single word seems to snap Mike back into reality and he nods for Harvey to follow after him, which he does so with a grin on his lips and his hands in his trouser pockets, and Mike just seems uneasy before him, which honestly just makes Harvey more amused. The whole 'puppy to my top dog' is hardly just a metaphor, it seems. Mike's got a real puppy attitude about him now. Harvey almost finds it endearing. Almost. But then he remembers he shouldn't care.
A minute later Mike is opening the door to his apartment and letting him in, and the apartment is just like Mike; simple and smart, with papers for cases lying around, stacked up on book after book on the sofa. Mike is immediately at the counter in his kitchen and Harvey follows after him slowly, just taking in the place while Mike keeps fidgeting like he thinks Harvey is going to tell him off for something, like his apartment being too small and inexpensive and dammit, Mike, you could afford a better place than this if you wanted to because honestly I wouldn't even let my dog stay here, all while he empties out the contents of his messenger bag onto the countertop so they'll be safe and dry (which they mostly are).
When Harvey is finally next to him, Mike shifts his weight from foot to foot again, and Harvey really doesn't think he'll be able wipe the smirk from his lips the whole time he's there. Mike glances up at him, still slightly skittish, it seems, but maybe that's just because Harvey's standing a little closer than he initially intended, but that isn't his fault. "Make yourself at home," Mike offers, although he seems to realize the cliché and the snark behind that as he steps back. "I'm gonna go change."
It's a few minutes later when Mike walks back out in a pair of nice jeans and just a plain t-shirt as Harvey is milling through his books - and an odd collection at that; Lord Byron, books on American law, two on British parliament, and he's pretty sure that he saw a Star Wars novel over where he had seen some books on anatomy, a biography about a con man turned FBI consultant for white collar crimes, a book on foreign diplomacy, and something about how laws worked interstate when the laws between the two were different, but really, Harvey, pay attention now, because Mike is walking right to you with his hand combing through his still-wet hair and that shirt is, yeah, a little too small for him, and he looks rather disheveled, but in a good way.
Mike catches his gaze and gives a light scoff as he releases his hand from his hair as he begins to ramble a little. "Sorry about that; I don't exactly plan on having my boss into my apartment everyday, and I didn't feel like putting on clothes that you would deem worthy for work, because it's late, and I'm sure you're not staying too late as is," he finishes off with a shrug, stepping up next to Harvey so that when he turns to face him he's pretty sure that he's well into his personal space, and perhaps even sexual harassment lawsuit zone.
"And what makes you think I won't be staying late?" Harvey asks, his hands still in his pockets and standing straight, as straight as Mike looks at him, and then, suddenly, everything is all hands and mouths as Mike place his hands at Harvey's cheekbones and pulls him in for a fierce kiss. There's no force keeping Harvey there though, no real friction behind it, just a drawn breath, and a moment later Mike lets him go enough to let out a little pant between them, and that's all the initiative Harvey needs really, before his hands are at Mike's hips and they're pressed flush from chest to chest and feet to feet.
It's a long, rough kiss, their next one; it's hot and messy and heady and all released tension, because now Harvey is kissing down Mike's neck and adding little nips around telling him how much he really likes him like this, all keening and needy. Oh yeah, he definitely likes him like this, and, oh yeah, it was obviously a fucking brilliant idea to steal his bike. He's sure it's in the trunk of his town car, but it it means getting more nights like this, he thinks as Mike is unbuckling his belt and moving his hand to wrap around his cock, then he thinks it might just stay there for a little while longer.