Never Let Me Go, Suits, Mike/Harvey [7/8]
Title: Never Let Me Go [7/8]
Summary: You have to know who you are, and what you are. It’s the only way to lead decent lives.
Pairing: Harvey/Mike, Harvey/OFC, Mike/OMC, Harvey/OMC
Rating: PG-15
Notes: AU. All quotes are from I Knew You So Well by Cindy. Summary is from the movie Never Let Me Go.
And I knew your love
Because you wouldn't let me dream
of us together.
--
When Harvey took leave from Pearson Hardman, what he didn’t know was that it would take him twenty two months to get back. Even then, it might be too soon.
--
The day before he switched his phone off, he got a call from Mike. He stared at the name flashing across his screen, something inside of him twisting and coiling and ugly and he knew he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to see Mike knowing that over the past few months his wife - his wife - has been slowly being eaten alive while he has been partly in love with someone else. He’s sickened, gutted by the knowledge that a part of him had abandoned her - a part of him that he will never be able to get back; a part of him she had known was gone.
A text flashed up on the screen, alerting him to the voicemail Mike had left. He hit delete, hesitated a moment before shutting the device down.
No more.
--
The night that Marian died, Harvey had sat outside of her room with dry eyes and a tight throat. The nurses had come and gone, asking if he needed anything, if he wanted them to call anyone but all he’d managed was a small head shake and a quick glance in their direction before staring at the floor again.
He couldn’t bring himself to go back into the room, couldn’t bring himself to make the call, to say the words, to let anyone else know that… That Marian was- that Marian had-
“Donna…” He managed to croak into the phone that one of the nurses had rolled over to him when he’d worked up the strength to say the words. “Marian is… She-“
“Oh, Harvey-“
“She died.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He stayed there, leaning against the nurses’ station until Donna walked through the door. She stopped in front of him, staring for a few short moments before stepped into his space and wrapped him up in her arms. Harvey allowed it for a few moments before he pulled back, pull himself together.
“I need your help.”
She nodded, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Of course.” She stroked her fingers down his face, nodding. “Of course.”
--
The ceremony is well attended, though that didn’t make it any easier.
In the middle, as Harvey stumbled through his eulogy, he saw Mike and Donna teary eyed and holding hands.
Nothing settled, nothing calmed.
He looked away.
--
At the wake, Harvey found Mike - although ‘found’ isn’t the right word, more like stumbled across him - in the hallway outside the bathroom. They stare at each other for a long few moments before Mike ducks his head and licks his lips.
“Harvey-“
“Don’t.” Mike looks up then, his eyes sharp despite the red tinge to their rims. “I can’t… I can’t hear your voice, Mike.” Mike just stares at him, his head tilted slightly to the side and Harvey can see a peal of anger seep into the blue there before it’s tempered. He feels guilty, but only for a moment. “I need you to leave.”
Mike licks his lips and nods and Harvey feels his shoulders sag in relief that Mike isn’t going to put up a fight.
He steps around the younger man, ensuring their bodies don’t touch but he’s shocked into stillness when Mike’s hand settles around his wrist like a burning brand. Harvey looks at the hand, flexes his own and watches Mike shift his grip.
“What are you doing?” He demands, staring up at Mike. The anger is slow in coming, and if it’s more directed at himself than Mike, no one but him needs to know that. “I asked you to leave.”
“You didn’t, you said you needed me to leave.” And Harvey can’t believe he’s arguing pedantic with him right now. The anger shifts with his body and he sees Mike stretch his neck slightly. “You need people, Harvey. You need-“
“Not you.”
Mike stills, his grip on Harvey’s wrist changing as something indecipherable flickers across his features before it’s replaced with a false calm.
“Okay.” Harvey startles, and it must show because Mike smiles a little, sad. “I don’t believe you, but I accept that that’s what you need to believe right now.” Harvey shakes his head, tries to step away from Mike but he only tightens his hold. “I know you’re lying - to me, to yourself I don’t know. But I know you, Harvey. You’re my best friend.” Harvey can’t keep looking at him, so he looks to the end of the hall, to where he sees Donna watching the exchange. He wants to call out to her, to get her to intervene but he finds that his voice is held captive by Mike’s hold on his wrist. When he looks back to Mike, there are tears on Mike’s cheeks. “I’m here, when you’re ready.”
Harvey feels Mike’s grip leave his wrist, watches as Mike moves to Donna and accept a long hug from her, as Mike grabs his coat, as Mike leaves.
--
When Harvey comes to, he’s leaning against the wall in his bathroom and Donna is in front of him with her hair tied up and her black dress exchanged for sweats and a loose tee and his face is wet with tears.
“I think I need to be alone right now.”
“No you don’t.”
He does, but he doesn’t argue with her.
--
The first time he picks someone up, it’s a woman and she’s young and blond and has a small apartment not far from the bar.
The next few times are similar, and one time he even sees Mike out with a few friends that Harvey doesn’t know. They both see each other, and both ignore each other. The girl he leaves with that night has a friend, a black goddess of a woman who Harvey enjoys having on top of him so much he sees her (alone) again two nights later.
It’s easy, but it’s not exactly fun and there’s a part of him that just screams at him that his wife died only five months ago and he’s fucking his way through Manhattan like it’s no one’s business and that’s so fucked up.
It is so fucked up but he doesn’t care, he just needs those few hours where things feel fine - where he can drink enough to numb the aching hole in the centre of his chest, where he gets fucked enough that he almost blacks out for a few blissful minutes.
But things are not fine.
His apartment, when he gets back it, is empty. Marian’s clothes are still hung up in the closet, her shoes still there by the door.
When he closes his eyes to sleep, the blackness affords him little rest.
--
He finds a new place a few blocks away from his apartment. It’s not nice enough to buy but it’s okay enough that he stays there for a few weeks before calling Donna.
“I need you to sell my apartment.”
Donna’s silence isn’t pleasant, and Harvey hates the echo-ey quality of the line so he hangs up.
--
Donna finds him a day later - he doesn’t know how, nor does he really care - and he’s so ridiculously glad to see her that he cries a little when he hugs her.
“You’re an idiot.”
He’s not seen her for 7 months, and although they speak quite regularly on the phone he hadn’t been aware of just how much he’s missed her until she’s in front of him.
“I know,” he murmurs into her hair, still clinging on to her. “I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t accept his apology, but nor does she rebuke it and he accepts that for what it is.
Something inside of him rattles, then settles and he can’t quite fight back the sob that racks it’s way out his body.
“Oh, Harvey.”
--
Donna deals with everything and he takes her out to dinner when he tells him that it’s sold. She hands him the documents and he scans through them briefly before handing them back.
“Thank you.” He stares at his hands for a minute, tries to catch his breath, tries to find the courage to ask.
She slides a key across to him, and he watches her fingers hover over it for a few seconds before pulling back.
“There’s a storage place a few blocks from the office… I didn’t… Everything’s in there.”
He closes his eyes, sees his and Marian’s life packed away into boxes and he feels that hollow in his chest expand before settling again.
“Thank you for doing this. I couldn’t…”
She watches him for a few moments before shrugging.
“I didn’t do it alone.” He meets her gaze. “Mike helped.” He holds her stare for a moment before nodding, once.
“Okay.”
Even he’s not sure what he means by that.
--
He meets Mike at Greenhouse 36.
It’s awkward and horrible in a way it never was between them but Harvey can’t hate himself.
The sight of Mike, the sound him in Harvey’s life again even if it is just for this afternoon… The calm, the guilt, the quietness… It’s almost too much. Harvey almost leaves before Mike has even managed to finish his order but Mike’s unassuming gaze keeps Harvey rooted to his seat.
“It’s gram’s anniversary today,” Mike says, apropos of nothing and Harvey feels his stomach roll at the words, even as confusion seeps across his thoughts.
“Excuse me?”
“My grandmother.” Mike hasn’t looked up from the fork he’s been studying since the waiter left, and he doesn’t look up now. “She died.” Harvey closes his eyes. “A year ago today.”
“I’m sorry, Mike,” Harvey manages, several long and unpleasant minutes later.
“Me too.” Mike finally looks up and Harvey is stunned by the small smile on Mike’s face. “She loved you, you know.” Harvey frowns, even as he feels a small smile try to break free across his lips. “Remember the barbecue at the home, and she kicked your ass at Backgammon?” Harvey lets out a laugh, small and real and raw and he sees Mike’s smile crystalise into something genuinely cheerful. “After you left, she wouldn’t shut up about you.”
Mike continues on this route for the duration of lunch and Harvey lets him, loosing himself in the quiet memories of happier times.
It’s the first time since that day a full year before that his mood isn’t tinged with grey.
--
He would like to be able to say that the dinner with Mike was the breakthrough he needed but the truth is that he went home to his new apartment and cried in the dark hallway until he passed out with exhaustion.
--
It was a beginning, though.
After Mike, he called Jessica. He even called Louis.
Slowly but surely, people started inviting themselves back into his life and he allowed them.
He doesn’t see Mike too much; can’t handle the guilt that Mike’s calmness brings along with it but for the few hours a month they do spend together, Harvey finds himself laughing and comfortable in his own skin in a way he’s not been for so long.
--
It’s after drinks with Jessica that Alan buys Harvey a drink.
Harvey’d not been looking to take anyone home that night - especially not a man - and Alan had accepted that but wouldn’t accept no to a chat over a glass of whisky.
So Harvey saw him again, and again the week after and again the week after that until Alan made him dinner at his three storey town house in Carnegie Hill.
“You know I’m not gay.”
Alan smiled and shrugged.
“I figured you weren’t, given the wedding ring you’re wearing.” Harvey stills, suddenly very aware of where the gold of his band is settled against his whisky glass. “But you also didn’t flat out turn me down so I figured you must be somewhat interested otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” Harvey glances down to his wedding band, his thumb moving to skim it before he manages to stop it. “My wife died five years ago.”
Harvey’s eyes snap to Alan’s, his breath constricting in his chest.
“I…”
“I understand if you’re not ready for anything, but… there’s nothing wrong with enjoying someone else’s company.” Alan smiles, and it takes Harvey a few moments before he’s able to return it. When he does, Alan tilts his head and raises his glass. “To company.”
Harvey laughs a little, the sound more genuine than he thought it would be.
“To company.”
--
He doesn’t introduce Alan to Donna or Mike, even though they’ve been seeing each other for a few months. He does meet Mike at Ootoya one day and it’s not until he’s home and sees the scrape of beard burn around his mouth and neck that he realises why Mike had been quiet all through lunch.
He reallocates the guilt he feels as he watches his reflection apply aloe vera to his face.
--
“What have you done to the puppy?”
Harvey rolls his eyes.
“I think it’s time to stop calling him puppy, don’t you? He’s been a Senior Associate for almost two years now.”
Donna freezes a moment, then smiles.
“Yes he has.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Stop deflecting.” She studies him from the corner of her eye and Harvey pretends to concentrate on the game in front of him, but even a good old bench clearing brawl wouldn’t be enough to keep his focus on the screen. “What’s going on with you?”
Harvey sighs.
“I’ve been seeing someone.” Donna quirks an eyebrow and if she is more than mildly surprised she does a fantastic job of hiding it. “His name’s Alan.”
“Ohhh.” She shifts so her body is facing him completely and Harvey sighs, turns towards her. “Poor puppy.”
Harvey rolls his eyes.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s what you’re not saying that I’m responding to.”
“You can’t possibly know what I’m not saying.”
“How long have we known each other? I think I know your judgemental face when I see it.”
Donna’s smile falls and she reaches out to him, her hand covering his where it rests of the sofa.
“Oh, Harvey.” She smiles, wistfully. “I’m not judging you. This is good, it’s good for you.” She massages her thumb against the back of his hand. “I just… We didn’t think you were ready.”
Harvey shrugs.
“Neither did I. I don’t think it’s something you can be ready for, you just need someone to push you.” He shrugs again, suddenly uncomfortable. “If you’re ready, you’re ready. If you’re not, you’re not.”
Donna purses her lips, eyes narrowed.
“Wise words.”
Harvey smirks.
“Alan’s.”
Donna nods.
“Tell me about him.”
He does.
--
“Jessica wants to know when you’ll be back.”
Harvey shifts the phone against his ear, narrowly misses slicing his finger open as he does so.
“I know.” There’s silence on the line that, again, isn’t entirely comfortable. He sighs. “I’ve spoken to her.”
“Oh!” Harvey hasn’t heard Mike sounds so excited since Harvey invited him over for a Star Trek marathon a couple of weeks before. “And?”
Harvey sighs, putting the knife down and wiping his hands on the skirt of the apron. He leans against the worktop with his hip, lifting a hand to his eyes.
“It’s in the works.”
The silence this time is comfortable, if digitally enabled and Harvey can’t help but smile.
“Harvey…” Mike’s voice is soft, and far away and Harvey likes (and accepts) the settling of something in his chest - something he hadn’t even known was loose. “This is good. I’m so glad-“ The door buzzer interrupts him and Harvey winces as he practically sees Mike tense up over the line. “Is that Alan?”
“Yeah,” Harvey answers as he makes his way to the hallway to let Alan into the building. “I was making dinner when you called.”
“Oh.” Mike’s quiet a beat, then he takes a breath. “I’d like to meet him.”
His stomach settles somewhere near his feet at those words.
“What?” He manages, his voice a croak.
“He’s… he’s been good for you. I’d… we would - I would… like to meet him.”
Harvey doesn’t think that’s a good idea, for so many reasons but mainly because this is hurting Mike enough. He’s hurt Mike enough over the past few years and he doesn’t need anything more to feel guilty about.
“I don’t-“
“Is it serious?” Mike asks over him and Harvey stops breathing a moment. “Sorry, that was-“
“Remember you asked me once if it was possible to love someone as preparation for loving someone else?”
“Oh my…”
“No!” Harvey yells, and scrapes a hand over his face as he realises how that must have sounded and - “Jesus, I didn’t mean…” He takes a breath. “I don’t love him.” There’s a knock at his door a few steps away and he presses his forehead to the wall in front of him. “I don’t love him.” He takes another breath, knows that the next few words will hurt. “But I do need this.”
He hears Mike let out a breath on the other side of the phone, and he knows he’s not imagining the watery quality to it. He hates this. Hates the last few years of his life.
“Okay.” Harvey sighs. “Okay.”
The line goes dead.
--
Summary: You have to know who you are, and what you are. It’s the only way to lead decent lives.
Pairing: Harvey/Mike, Harvey/OFC, Mike/OMC, Harvey/OMC
Rating: PG-15
Notes: AU. All quotes are from I Knew You So Well by Cindy. Summary is from the movie Never Let Me Go.
And I knew your love
Because you wouldn't let me dream
of us together.
--
When Harvey took leave from Pearson Hardman, what he didn’t know was that it would take him twenty two months to get back. Even then, it might be too soon.
--
The day before he switched his phone off, he got a call from Mike. He stared at the name flashing across his screen, something inside of him twisting and coiling and ugly and he knew he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to see Mike knowing that over the past few months his wife - his wife - has been slowly being eaten alive while he has been partly in love with someone else. He’s sickened, gutted by the knowledge that a part of him had abandoned her - a part of him that he will never be able to get back; a part of him she had known was gone.
A text flashed up on the screen, alerting him to the voicemail Mike had left. He hit delete, hesitated a moment before shutting the device down.
No more.
--
The night that Marian died, Harvey had sat outside of her room with dry eyes and a tight throat. The nurses had come and gone, asking if he needed anything, if he wanted them to call anyone but all he’d managed was a small head shake and a quick glance in their direction before staring at the floor again.
He couldn’t bring himself to go back into the room, couldn’t bring himself to make the call, to say the words, to let anyone else know that… That Marian was- that Marian had-
“Donna…” He managed to croak into the phone that one of the nurses had rolled over to him when he’d worked up the strength to say the words. “Marian is… She-“
“Oh, Harvey-“
“She died.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He stayed there, leaning against the nurses’ station until Donna walked through the door. She stopped in front of him, staring for a few short moments before stepped into his space and wrapped him up in her arms. Harvey allowed it for a few moments before he pulled back, pull himself together.
“I need your help.”
She nodded, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Of course.” She stroked her fingers down his face, nodding. “Of course.”
--
The ceremony is well attended, though that didn’t make it any easier.
In the middle, as Harvey stumbled through his eulogy, he saw Mike and Donna teary eyed and holding hands.
Nothing settled, nothing calmed.
He looked away.
--
At the wake, Harvey found Mike - although ‘found’ isn’t the right word, more like stumbled across him - in the hallway outside the bathroom. They stare at each other for a long few moments before Mike ducks his head and licks his lips.
“Harvey-“
“Don’t.” Mike looks up then, his eyes sharp despite the red tinge to their rims. “I can’t… I can’t hear your voice, Mike.” Mike just stares at him, his head tilted slightly to the side and Harvey can see a peal of anger seep into the blue there before it’s tempered. He feels guilty, but only for a moment. “I need you to leave.”
Mike licks his lips and nods and Harvey feels his shoulders sag in relief that Mike isn’t going to put up a fight.
He steps around the younger man, ensuring their bodies don’t touch but he’s shocked into stillness when Mike’s hand settles around his wrist like a burning brand. Harvey looks at the hand, flexes his own and watches Mike shift his grip.
“What are you doing?” He demands, staring up at Mike. The anger is slow in coming, and if it’s more directed at himself than Mike, no one but him needs to know that. “I asked you to leave.”
“You didn’t, you said you needed me to leave.” And Harvey can’t believe he’s arguing pedantic with him right now. The anger shifts with his body and he sees Mike stretch his neck slightly. “You need people, Harvey. You need-“
“Not you.”
Mike stills, his grip on Harvey’s wrist changing as something indecipherable flickers across his features before it’s replaced with a false calm.
“Okay.” Harvey startles, and it must show because Mike smiles a little, sad. “I don’t believe you, but I accept that that’s what you need to believe right now.” Harvey shakes his head, tries to step away from Mike but he only tightens his hold. “I know you’re lying - to me, to yourself I don’t know. But I know you, Harvey. You’re my best friend.” Harvey can’t keep looking at him, so he looks to the end of the hall, to where he sees Donna watching the exchange. He wants to call out to her, to get her to intervene but he finds that his voice is held captive by Mike’s hold on his wrist. When he looks back to Mike, there are tears on Mike’s cheeks. “I’m here, when you’re ready.”
Harvey feels Mike’s grip leave his wrist, watches as Mike moves to Donna and accept a long hug from her, as Mike grabs his coat, as Mike leaves.
--
When Harvey comes to, he’s leaning against the wall in his bathroom and Donna is in front of him with her hair tied up and her black dress exchanged for sweats and a loose tee and his face is wet with tears.
“I think I need to be alone right now.”
“No you don’t.”
He does, but he doesn’t argue with her.
--
The first time he picks someone up, it’s a woman and she’s young and blond and has a small apartment not far from the bar.
The next few times are similar, and one time he even sees Mike out with a few friends that Harvey doesn’t know. They both see each other, and both ignore each other. The girl he leaves with that night has a friend, a black goddess of a woman who Harvey enjoys having on top of him so much he sees her (alone) again two nights later.
It’s easy, but it’s not exactly fun and there’s a part of him that just screams at him that his wife died only five months ago and he’s fucking his way through Manhattan like it’s no one’s business and that’s so fucked up.
It is so fucked up but he doesn’t care, he just needs those few hours where things feel fine - where he can drink enough to numb the aching hole in the centre of his chest, where he gets fucked enough that he almost blacks out for a few blissful minutes.
But things are not fine.
His apartment, when he gets back it, is empty. Marian’s clothes are still hung up in the closet, her shoes still there by the door.
When he closes his eyes to sleep, the blackness affords him little rest.
--
He finds a new place a few blocks away from his apartment. It’s not nice enough to buy but it’s okay enough that he stays there for a few weeks before calling Donna.
“I need you to sell my apartment.”
Donna’s silence isn’t pleasant, and Harvey hates the echo-ey quality of the line so he hangs up.
--
Donna finds him a day later - he doesn’t know how, nor does he really care - and he’s so ridiculously glad to see her that he cries a little when he hugs her.
“You’re an idiot.”
He’s not seen her for 7 months, and although they speak quite regularly on the phone he hadn’t been aware of just how much he’s missed her until she’s in front of him.
“I know,” he murmurs into her hair, still clinging on to her. “I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t accept his apology, but nor does she rebuke it and he accepts that for what it is.
Something inside of him rattles, then settles and he can’t quite fight back the sob that racks it’s way out his body.
“Oh, Harvey.”
--
Donna deals with everything and he takes her out to dinner when he tells him that it’s sold. She hands him the documents and he scans through them briefly before handing them back.
“Thank you.” He stares at his hands for a minute, tries to catch his breath, tries to find the courage to ask.
She slides a key across to him, and he watches her fingers hover over it for a few seconds before pulling back.
“There’s a storage place a few blocks from the office… I didn’t… Everything’s in there.”
He closes his eyes, sees his and Marian’s life packed away into boxes and he feels that hollow in his chest expand before settling again.
“Thank you for doing this. I couldn’t…”
She watches him for a few moments before shrugging.
“I didn’t do it alone.” He meets her gaze. “Mike helped.” He holds her stare for a moment before nodding, once.
“Okay.”
Even he’s not sure what he means by that.
--
He meets Mike at Greenhouse 36.
It’s awkward and horrible in a way it never was between them but Harvey can’t hate himself.
The sight of Mike, the sound him in Harvey’s life again even if it is just for this afternoon… The calm, the guilt, the quietness… It’s almost too much. Harvey almost leaves before Mike has even managed to finish his order but Mike’s unassuming gaze keeps Harvey rooted to his seat.
“It’s gram’s anniversary today,” Mike says, apropos of nothing and Harvey feels his stomach roll at the words, even as confusion seeps across his thoughts.
“Excuse me?”
“My grandmother.” Mike hasn’t looked up from the fork he’s been studying since the waiter left, and he doesn’t look up now. “She died.” Harvey closes his eyes. “A year ago today.”
“I’m sorry, Mike,” Harvey manages, several long and unpleasant minutes later.
“Me too.” Mike finally looks up and Harvey is stunned by the small smile on Mike’s face. “She loved you, you know.” Harvey frowns, even as he feels a small smile try to break free across his lips. “Remember the barbecue at the home, and she kicked your ass at Backgammon?” Harvey lets out a laugh, small and real and raw and he sees Mike’s smile crystalise into something genuinely cheerful. “After you left, she wouldn’t shut up about you.”
Mike continues on this route for the duration of lunch and Harvey lets him, loosing himself in the quiet memories of happier times.
It’s the first time since that day a full year before that his mood isn’t tinged with grey.
--
He would like to be able to say that the dinner with Mike was the breakthrough he needed but the truth is that he went home to his new apartment and cried in the dark hallway until he passed out with exhaustion.
--
It was a beginning, though.
After Mike, he called Jessica. He even called Louis.
Slowly but surely, people started inviting themselves back into his life and he allowed them.
He doesn’t see Mike too much; can’t handle the guilt that Mike’s calmness brings along with it but for the few hours a month they do spend together, Harvey finds himself laughing and comfortable in his own skin in a way he’s not been for so long.
--
It’s after drinks with Jessica that Alan buys Harvey a drink.
Harvey’d not been looking to take anyone home that night - especially not a man - and Alan had accepted that but wouldn’t accept no to a chat over a glass of whisky.
So Harvey saw him again, and again the week after and again the week after that until Alan made him dinner at his three storey town house in Carnegie Hill.
“You know I’m not gay.”
Alan smiled and shrugged.
“I figured you weren’t, given the wedding ring you’re wearing.” Harvey stills, suddenly very aware of where the gold of his band is settled against his whisky glass. “But you also didn’t flat out turn me down so I figured you must be somewhat interested otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” Harvey glances down to his wedding band, his thumb moving to skim it before he manages to stop it. “My wife died five years ago.”
Harvey’s eyes snap to Alan’s, his breath constricting in his chest.
“I…”
“I understand if you’re not ready for anything, but… there’s nothing wrong with enjoying someone else’s company.” Alan smiles, and it takes Harvey a few moments before he’s able to return it. When he does, Alan tilts his head and raises his glass. “To company.”
Harvey laughs a little, the sound more genuine than he thought it would be.
“To company.”
--
He doesn’t introduce Alan to Donna or Mike, even though they’ve been seeing each other for a few months. He does meet Mike at Ootoya one day and it’s not until he’s home and sees the scrape of beard burn around his mouth and neck that he realises why Mike had been quiet all through lunch.
He reallocates the guilt he feels as he watches his reflection apply aloe vera to his face.
--
“What have you done to the puppy?”
Harvey rolls his eyes.
“I think it’s time to stop calling him puppy, don’t you? He’s been a Senior Associate for almost two years now.”
Donna freezes a moment, then smiles.
“Yes he has.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Stop deflecting.” She studies him from the corner of her eye and Harvey pretends to concentrate on the game in front of him, but even a good old bench clearing brawl wouldn’t be enough to keep his focus on the screen. “What’s going on with you?”
Harvey sighs.
“I’ve been seeing someone.” Donna quirks an eyebrow and if she is more than mildly surprised she does a fantastic job of hiding it. “His name’s Alan.”
“Ohhh.” She shifts so her body is facing him completely and Harvey sighs, turns towards her. “Poor puppy.”
Harvey rolls his eyes.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s what you’re not saying that I’m responding to.”
“You can’t possibly know what I’m not saying.”
“How long have we known each other? I think I know your judgemental face when I see it.”
Donna’s smile falls and she reaches out to him, her hand covering his where it rests of the sofa.
“Oh, Harvey.” She smiles, wistfully. “I’m not judging you. This is good, it’s good for you.” She massages her thumb against the back of his hand. “I just… We didn’t think you were ready.”
Harvey shrugs.
“Neither did I. I don’t think it’s something you can be ready for, you just need someone to push you.” He shrugs again, suddenly uncomfortable. “If you’re ready, you’re ready. If you’re not, you’re not.”
Donna purses her lips, eyes narrowed.
“Wise words.”
Harvey smirks.
“Alan’s.”
Donna nods.
“Tell me about him.”
He does.
--
“Jessica wants to know when you’ll be back.”
Harvey shifts the phone against his ear, narrowly misses slicing his finger open as he does so.
“I know.” There’s silence on the line that, again, isn’t entirely comfortable. He sighs. “I’ve spoken to her.”
“Oh!” Harvey hasn’t heard Mike sounds so excited since Harvey invited him over for a Star Trek marathon a couple of weeks before. “And?”
Harvey sighs, putting the knife down and wiping his hands on the skirt of the apron. He leans against the worktop with his hip, lifting a hand to his eyes.
“It’s in the works.”
The silence this time is comfortable, if digitally enabled and Harvey can’t help but smile.
“Harvey…” Mike’s voice is soft, and far away and Harvey likes (and accepts) the settling of something in his chest - something he hadn’t even known was loose. “This is good. I’m so glad-“ The door buzzer interrupts him and Harvey winces as he practically sees Mike tense up over the line. “Is that Alan?”
“Yeah,” Harvey answers as he makes his way to the hallway to let Alan into the building. “I was making dinner when you called.”
“Oh.” Mike’s quiet a beat, then he takes a breath. “I’d like to meet him.”
His stomach settles somewhere near his feet at those words.
“What?” He manages, his voice a croak.
“He’s… he’s been good for you. I’d… we would - I would… like to meet him.”
Harvey doesn’t think that’s a good idea, for so many reasons but mainly because this is hurting Mike enough. He’s hurt Mike enough over the past few years and he doesn’t need anything more to feel guilty about.
“I don’t-“
“Is it serious?” Mike asks over him and Harvey stops breathing a moment. “Sorry, that was-“
“Remember you asked me once if it was possible to love someone as preparation for loving someone else?”
“Oh my…”
“No!” Harvey yells, and scrapes a hand over his face as he realises how that must have sounded and - “Jesus, I didn’t mean…” He takes a breath. “I don’t love him.” There’s a knock at his door a few steps away and he presses his forehead to the wall in front of him. “I don’t love him.” He takes another breath, knows that the next few words will hurt. “But I do need this.”
He hears Mike let out a breath on the other side of the phone, and he knows he’s not imagining the watery quality to it. He hates this. Hates the last few years of his life.
“Okay.” Harvey sighs. “Okay.”
The line goes dead.
--