Fanfic: The Puppy Game
Title- The Puppy Game
Fandom- Suits
Ship- Harvey/Mike
Rating- PG-13
Genre- preslash, hurt/comfort, angst
Warnings- animal role play (puppy play), non-kinky; unbetaed
Wordcount- 2500
Disclaimer- I do not own Suits
Summary- Mike has an unusual way of dealing with stress. Harvey finds out.
A/N- part of the Buddy 'Verse, sequel is The Care and Keeping of Mike. Written for a prompt here at suitsmeme : We've had Harvey not only saying 'Good Boy' but outright calling Mike a puppy. Now I want puppy play more than anything.
*** Sequel ***
Mike dropped his briefcase on the floor as he closed the door behind himself, perhaps a little harder than he needed to. He sighed in exhaustion and flopped down on the couch, groaning when he felt his back complain. He cracked open an eye and looked down at his briefcase, thinking about the work he still had to do, even though he was exhausted. Being an associate at Pearson Hardman was more work than Mike had ever expected, and the pressure to perform well both for the sake of his job, and to not disappoint Harvey, was immense. Sometimes it got to be too much, and Mike felt like he was going to break down.
Mike had never done well under pressure, but in the past he’d always been able to deal with it. He’d developed a way to handle the stress, and even if it was a little odd, it worked. It had started when he was only six, when his parents died. After their deaths, Mike had sat in his room staring at the walls, not talking, barely eating, for several days, before Trevor suggested they play a game. The game they played was one they’d played several times before, one they simply called The Puppy Game.
Playing the part of a puppy had been an emotional release for Mike. Something about not having to be Mike anymore, about simply being a puppy who couldn’t understand things like death and dying, allowed Mike to escape from reality for a little while. For three days he played the part of a dog, until Trevor finally told him it was time to stop because he was making his grandmother worry. When Mike got up off the floor, it was with a completely different attitude than when he’d first agreed to play with Trevor. He still missed his parents, of course, but he was able to come to terms with their deaths and not simply lock himself away in his room.
After that, whenever Mike started to think about his parents and miss them, he would ask Trevor to play The Puppy Game with him. It went on for four years, until Mike was ten and going into middle school. That was when he decided that the game was too childish a way of dealing with things. But after his grandmother had to go into the hospital, shortly after Mike graduated from high school, Trevor had gently suggested that The Puppy Game might help Mike through the stress of college and his grandmother’s illness. Mike accepted the offer.
Since then he hadn’t hesitated to ask whenever he needed the release. The stress and worry and pressure from daily life would build, until it threatened to overwhelm him. The only way to avoid a complete emotional shutdown was to play The Puppy Game, and escape for a while. That was what Mike needed now. Unfortunately, Trevor was in Montana, too far away to help Mike, and there was no one else he could ask to help him with something so strange.
Mike sighed as he kicked off his shoes and lifted himself into a sitting position on the couch. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this, and he knew he definitely couldn’t have a breakdown at Pearson Hardman. That would lose him his job, all he’d worked for, all he’d wanted for so long. He had to let himself play, if only for a little while. And he would have to do it without Trevor.
Mike stood and went over to the small chest of drawers that held his less expensive clothes. Digging under the socks, he felt his fingers brush nylon webbing and pulled out the collar. It was something Trevor had gotten him, when he’d had a hard time getting into the puppy headspace after so many years. It was blue nylon, meant for a large breed of dog, and fit comfortably around his neck. The dog tag on the front read “Buddy,” the name they’d used for Mike’s puppy side since they first played the game as children.
Mike buckled the collar around his neck and got down on his hands and knees. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, trying to concentrate on luring Buddy out of the corner of his mind he’d retreated into. Slowly the tension in Mike’s muscles began to ease, but the more relaxed he became the less he noticed. The concerns of the day dissipated to some other corner of his mind as Buddy filled his consciousness. Abstract thoughts faded, and his focus centered more and more on what his senses were telling him. The room smelled musty, and the floor beneath his hands and knees was hard.
He opened his eyes and looked around, a grin spreading across his face at what he saw. This place was new to Buddy. He’d only ever come out to play at Trevor’s home, and he was eager to explore this new location. Buddy sniffed at the edge of the couch, the corner of the coffee table as he passed by them, the sides of his hips bumping them as his tail swung in excitement. He ventured into the kitchen, which smelled of food. But there wasn’t a bowl laid out for Buddy, and no food on the floor. He sat back and whimpered, before his eyes caught on something hanging off the edge of the countertop.
Stretching up on his hind legs with his paws on the counter, Buddy found that someone had left a large, flat box on the counter. He could smell the food inside, but couldn’t reach it. Buddy whimpered and nosed at the corner of the box that was hanging over the edge of the counter. He bumped it once, then again, until it wavered precariously on the edge. Suddenly it toppled, and Buddy yelped and ran away.
Buddy hid under the kitchen table, waiting for someone to get mad and yell at him, but no one did. He peeked out and saw that the box had fallen, and pieces of old pizza were scattered all over the floor. He approached cautiously, and took a careful bite. Still no one yelled at him, so Buddy ate his fill of the pizza. When his stomach was satisfied, he resumed his exploration.
The place was not as much fun as Trevor’s home. It was too small for Buddy to run around. He did, however, find some nice leather shoes to chew on. Usually Trevor would yell at him for chewing on shoes, but this time no one got mad. Buddy smiled as he chewed the shoe, enjoying the taste of leather and the scent of sweat. Then a noise startled him.
It came from his hip, a strange sort of ringing, and Buddy whimpered and turned, trying to figure out what it was. Suddenly something fell away from his side, and skidded across the floor. Buddy approached the ringing thing carefully, sniffing at it. It stopped ringing, and he deemed it safe to get near, but just as soon as he did the thing started ringing again, and he jumped behind the couch to hide. The thing buzzed and moved on the floor, but it didn’t seem like it was going to hurt him. Buddy cautiously went forward. He sniffed it and, finding no threat, took it in him mouth and rolled it between his jaws. Suddenly the ringing stopped, and Buddy heard a voice.
“Mike? Why didn’t you pick up the first time? Damn it, Mike, this is important!” Buddy dropped the thing in shock, and ran a few feet away. “Mike?” he heard the voice ask. “Hello? Are you even listening to me? Say something, damn it!”
Buddy cocked his head to the side as he looked at the thing on the floor. No one had yelled at him for the pizza. No one had yelled at him for the shoes. No one had spoken to Buddy at all. No one was playing with him, and it made him sad. Now this little box was yelling at him, and Buddy didn’t understand why.
Buddy whimpered and nosed the box apologetically, hoping to sooth the angry voice. “Mike?” the voice asked, sounding less angry. Buddy whimpered contritely. “Mike, are you okay? Are you hurt? Mike, talk to me!” The voice sounded like it was getting angry again, and Buddy whined loudly. “Mike, hold on, I’m coming over!”
Then the voice stopped speaking, and Buddy was left all alone. Buddy didn’t like being alone. Even though there was no one to yell at him for chewing shoes, he didn’t want to be alone. Alone scared Buddy.
Buddy lay down on the floor and whimpered softly. Someone had to come! Maybe if he was a good boy, someone would come back to him. He would just sit right here, like a good dog, and someone would come back. He didn’t even care if they yelled at him; he just wanted someone to be around. He hated being alone.
Minutes stretched by, and Buddy became more and more desperate. What had he done wrong? Why had his humans abandoned him? Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Buddy’s head shot up. “Mike?” the voice from the box asked outside the door, and Buddy ran to it and clawed the bottom, whimpering. “Hold on, Mike!”
The door suddenly flung forward, hitting Buddy, and he yelped and sprang back. The human that ran into the room nearly tripped over him, and Buddy curled into a ball on the floor and whimpered, expecting to be yelled at.
“Mike?” the voice asked, not sounding angry. Hands touched Buddy’s shoulders and arms, trying to pull him up off the ground, and he whimpered. Against his will Buddy was pulled onto his hind paws and dragged, unsteady and wobbling, to the couch. Buddy shook his head as he righted himself, standing on all four paws on the couch. Then he looked up at the human. “Mike?” the voice asked again, sounding confused. Buddy cocked his head to the side and barked.
“Mike, stop that! Be serious! I thought you were hurt!” The human frowned at him, and Buddy whimpered and lowered his head again. “And take that collar off!” Hands tugged at Buddy’s neck, and he resisted the urge to run away. The human wasn’t trying to hurt him- at least, he didn’t think so.
As the collar fell away, Mike came back to himself. The Buddy consciousness fled to a small corner of his mind, and he looked up at Harvey with wide scared eyes and gulped. Harvey was probably the last person he wanted to find out about The Puppy Game. Mike had known Harvey would probably see it as a sign of weakness, and Harvey thinking him weak was the last thing Mike wanted.
“Now, will you tell me what is going on?” Mike flinched at the annoyance in Harvey’s voice. It took a moment before he could formulate a reply.
“It’s… it’s something I do… to relieve stress,” Mike mumbled, still looking down.
“What is?” Harvey asked, his tone somewhere between annoyed and confused.
“The Puppy Game,” Mike said. Harvey sighed in frustration, and Mike dared to look up to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What’s the puppy game?” Harvey asked, sounding like he was trying to keep calm. And just like that, Mike found himself explaining everything. His parents, Trevor, his grandmother’s illness, the collar, Buddy, all the stress he’s been under at Pearson Hardman… everything. Harvey just listened and nodded, his expression unreadable.
When Mike finished his story, he waited for Harvey to say something. Instead, Harvey looked out around the apartment, his lips tilting downward in the barest hint of disapproval. “Did you chew on these shoes?” he asked at last, nodding to the shoes lying by the couch. Indeed, there were bite marks in the leather, and saliva smeared over them. Mike ducked his head in shame.
“Probably. When I’m Buddy, I’m kind of unaware of what I’m doing. Or at least, of the implications and reasons why I shouldn’t do it. That’s one of the reasons I’ve never tried it without Trevor before.”
“And the others?” Harvey asked patiently. Mike glanced up at him, then quickly looked away again.
“It’s because I get lonely. The purpose of becoming Buddy is to relieve stress, but if there’s no one around, then Buddy… then I get sad, and it just makes things worse. But,” Mike sighed, “without Trevor there’s no one else, and even if he were here I know I should probably be staying away from him.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Harvey’s words, spoken in a sincere and gentle tone, shocked Mike. His head shot up, and he stared at Harvey in amazement. It took a moment before he remembered he was expected to answer the question.
“I… You… I thought you would think it was weird… that it made me weak. I thought you’d mock me for it.” Mike watched almost warily as Harvey extended a hand and touched his shoulder. The touch was gentle, though, and it soothed Mike.
“You need someone to take care of you,” Harvey replied. “I can do that.”
“You will?” Mike asked, barely daring to hope. One of the worst things about working at Pearson Hardman was having a horrible crush on Harvey and thinking he didn’t care at all. But maybe, just maybe, he did.
“Of course,” Harvey replied casually. “You’re an asset to me, and I need to protect my assets.” But there was something about the way he said it, the tenderness in his eyes, that made Mike think that wasn’t his only motive. Mike grinned and jumped up from the couch to hug Harvey.
“Thank you,” he murmured into Harvey’s ear, hoping Harvey could hear from his tone just how grateful he is. He could feel Harvey nod, and then the older man’s arms rose to awkwardly embrace Mike in return. They held each other for a few minutes, Mike happy just to enjoy Harvey’s rare affection. Harvey was the first to pull back.
Harvey pushed Mike to arms’ length and cleared his throat. “So,” he began, “do you need to…play The Puppy Game now?”
A bright grin spread across Mike’s face as he picked the collar up from the table and pressed it into Harvey’s hands. “If you’re okay with it,” he said softly.
“I’m okay,” Harvey scoffed, but there was a slight tremor in his voice, like he was still uneasy with the idea of playing with an adult pretending to be a dog. Mike smiled. To him, the simple fact that Harvey was willing to do this for him spoke volumes, even if Harvey himself would never admit it.
“Okay,” Mike replied. “Put the collar on me, and we’ll play.” As Harvey’s gentle hands slipped the collar around Mike’s neck and Buddy began to fill his consciousness, Mike thought to himself that his life had improved so much from what it had been when he got home that evening. And from some of the looks Harvey had given him, it was a pretty safe bet it would keep improving. The thought made Mike smile as he sank to his knees and let Buddy come out to play with Harvey.
*** Sequel ***
Fandom- Suits
Ship- Harvey/Mike
Rating- PG-13
Genre- preslash, hurt/comfort, angst
Warnings- animal role play (puppy play), non-kinky; unbetaed
Wordcount- 2500
Disclaimer- I do not own Suits
Summary- Mike has an unusual way of dealing with stress. Harvey finds out.
A/N- part of the Buddy 'Verse, sequel is The Care and Keeping of Mike. Written for a prompt here at suitsmeme : We've had Harvey not only saying 'Good Boy' but outright calling Mike a puppy. Now I want puppy play more than anything.
*** Sequel ***
Mike dropped his briefcase on the floor as he closed the door behind himself, perhaps a little harder than he needed to. He sighed in exhaustion and flopped down on the couch, groaning when he felt his back complain. He cracked open an eye and looked down at his briefcase, thinking about the work he still had to do, even though he was exhausted. Being an associate at Pearson Hardman was more work than Mike had ever expected, and the pressure to perform well both for the sake of his job, and to not disappoint Harvey, was immense. Sometimes it got to be too much, and Mike felt like he was going to break down.
Mike had never done well under pressure, but in the past he’d always been able to deal with it. He’d developed a way to handle the stress, and even if it was a little odd, it worked. It had started when he was only six, when his parents died. After their deaths, Mike had sat in his room staring at the walls, not talking, barely eating, for several days, before Trevor suggested they play a game. The game they played was one they’d played several times before, one they simply called The Puppy Game.
Playing the part of a puppy had been an emotional release for Mike. Something about not having to be Mike anymore, about simply being a puppy who couldn’t understand things like death and dying, allowed Mike to escape from reality for a little while. For three days he played the part of a dog, until Trevor finally told him it was time to stop because he was making his grandmother worry. When Mike got up off the floor, it was with a completely different attitude than when he’d first agreed to play with Trevor. He still missed his parents, of course, but he was able to come to terms with their deaths and not simply lock himself away in his room.
After that, whenever Mike started to think about his parents and miss them, he would ask Trevor to play The Puppy Game with him. It went on for four years, until Mike was ten and going into middle school. That was when he decided that the game was too childish a way of dealing with things. But after his grandmother had to go into the hospital, shortly after Mike graduated from high school, Trevor had gently suggested that The Puppy Game might help Mike through the stress of college and his grandmother’s illness. Mike accepted the offer.
Since then he hadn’t hesitated to ask whenever he needed the release. The stress and worry and pressure from daily life would build, until it threatened to overwhelm him. The only way to avoid a complete emotional shutdown was to play The Puppy Game, and escape for a while. That was what Mike needed now. Unfortunately, Trevor was in Montana, too far away to help Mike, and there was no one else he could ask to help him with something so strange.
Mike sighed as he kicked off his shoes and lifted himself into a sitting position on the couch. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on like this, and he knew he definitely couldn’t have a breakdown at Pearson Hardman. That would lose him his job, all he’d worked for, all he’d wanted for so long. He had to let himself play, if only for a little while. And he would have to do it without Trevor.
Mike stood and went over to the small chest of drawers that held his less expensive clothes. Digging under the socks, he felt his fingers brush nylon webbing and pulled out the collar. It was something Trevor had gotten him, when he’d had a hard time getting into the puppy headspace after so many years. It was blue nylon, meant for a large breed of dog, and fit comfortably around his neck. The dog tag on the front read “Buddy,” the name they’d used for Mike’s puppy side since they first played the game as children.
Mike buckled the collar around his neck and got down on his hands and knees. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, trying to concentrate on luring Buddy out of the corner of his mind he’d retreated into. Slowly the tension in Mike’s muscles began to ease, but the more relaxed he became the less he noticed. The concerns of the day dissipated to some other corner of his mind as Buddy filled his consciousness. Abstract thoughts faded, and his focus centered more and more on what his senses were telling him. The room smelled musty, and the floor beneath his hands and knees was hard.
He opened his eyes and looked around, a grin spreading across his face at what he saw. This place was new to Buddy. He’d only ever come out to play at Trevor’s home, and he was eager to explore this new location. Buddy sniffed at the edge of the couch, the corner of the coffee table as he passed by them, the sides of his hips bumping them as his tail swung in excitement. He ventured into the kitchen, which smelled of food. But there wasn’t a bowl laid out for Buddy, and no food on the floor. He sat back and whimpered, before his eyes caught on something hanging off the edge of the countertop.
Stretching up on his hind legs with his paws on the counter, Buddy found that someone had left a large, flat box on the counter. He could smell the food inside, but couldn’t reach it. Buddy whimpered and nosed at the corner of the box that was hanging over the edge of the counter. He bumped it once, then again, until it wavered precariously on the edge. Suddenly it toppled, and Buddy yelped and ran away.
Buddy hid under the kitchen table, waiting for someone to get mad and yell at him, but no one did. He peeked out and saw that the box had fallen, and pieces of old pizza were scattered all over the floor. He approached cautiously, and took a careful bite. Still no one yelled at him, so Buddy ate his fill of the pizza. When his stomach was satisfied, he resumed his exploration.
The place was not as much fun as Trevor’s home. It was too small for Buddy to run around. He did, however, find some nice leather shoes to chew on. Usually Trevor would yell at him for chewing on shoes, but this time no one got mad. Buddy smiled as he chewed the shoe, enjoying the taste of leather and the scent of sweat. Then a noise startled him.
It came from his hip, a strange sort of ringing, and Buddy whimpered and turned, trying to figure out what it was. Suddenly something fell away from his side, and skidded across the floor. Buddy approached the ringing thing carefully, sniffing at it. It stopped ringing, and he deemed it safe to get near, but just as soon as he did the thing started ringing again, and he jumped behind the couch to hide. The thing buzzed and moved on the floor, but it didn’t seem like it was going to hurt him. Buddy cautiously went forward. He sniffed it and, finding no threat, took it in him mouth and rolled it between his jaws. Suddenly the ringing stopped, and Buddy heard a voice.
“Mike? Why didn’t you pick up the first time? Damn it, Mike, this is important!” Buddy dropped the thing in shock, and ran a few feet away. “Mike?” he heard the voice ask. “Hello? Are you even listening to me? Say something, damn it!”
Buddy cocked his head to the side as he looked at the thing on the floor. No one had yelled at him for the pizza. No one had yelled at him for the shoes. No one had spoken to Buddy at all. No one was playing with him, and it made him sad. Now this little box was yelling at him, and Buddy didn’t understand why.
Buddy whimpered and nosed the box apologetically, hoping to sooth the angry voice. “Mike?” the voice asked, sounding less angry. Buddy whimpered contritely. “Mike, are you okay? Are you hurt? Mike, talk to me!” The voice sounded like it was getting angry again, and Buddy whined loudly. “Mike, hold on, I’m coming over!”
Then the voice stopped speaking, and Buddy was left all alone. Buddy didn’t like being alone. Even though there was no one to yell at him for chewing shoes, he didn’t want to be alone. Alone scared Buddy.
Buddy lay down on the floor and whimpered softly. Someone had to come! Maybe if he was a good boy, someone would come back to him. He would just sit right here, like a good dog, and someone would come back. He didn’t even care if they yelled at him; he just wanted someone to be around. He hated being alone.
Minutes stretched by, and Buddy became more and more desperate. What had he done wrong? Why had his humans abandoned him? Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and Buddy’s head shot up. “Mike?” the voice from the box asked outside the door, and Buddy ran to it and clawed the bottom, whimpering. “Hold on, Mike!”
The door suddenly flung forward, hitting Buddy, and he yelped and sprang back. The human that ran into the room nearly tripped over him, and Buddy curled into a ball on the floor and whimpered, expecting to be yelled at.
“Mike?” the voice asked, not sounding angry. Hands touched Buddy’s shoulders and arms, trying to pull him up off the ground, and he whimpered. Against his will Buddy was pulled onto his hind paws and dragged, unsteady and wobbling, to the couch. Buddy shook his head as he righted himself, standing on all four paws on the couch. Then he looked up at the human. “Mike?” the voice asked again, sounding confused. Buddy cocked his head to the side and barked.
“Mike, stop that! Be serious! I thought you were hurt!” The human frowned at him, and Buddy whimpered and lowered his head again. “And take that collar off!” Hands tugged at Buddy’s neck, and he resisted the urge to run away. The human wasn’t trying to hurt him- at least, he didn’t think so.
As the collar fell away, Mike came back to himself. The Buddy consciousness fled to a small corner of his mind, and he looked up at Harvey with wide scared eyes and gulped. Harvey was probably the last person he wanted to find out about The Puppy Game. Mike had known Harvey would probably see it as a sign of weakness, and Harvey thinking him weak was the last thing Mike wanted.
“Now, will you tell me what is going on?” Mike flinched at the annoyance in Harvey’s voice. It took a moment before he could formulate a reply.
“It’s… it’s something I do… to relieve stress,” Mike mumbled, still looking down.
“What is?” Harvey asked, his tone somewhere between annoyed and confused.
“The Puppy Game,” Mike said. Harvey sighed in frustration, and Mike dared to look up to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What’s the puppy game?” Harvey asked, sounding like he was trying to keep calm. And just like that, Mike found himself explaining everything. His parents, Trevor, his grandmother’s illness, the collar, Buddy, all the stress he’s been under at Pearson Hardman… everything. Harvey just listened and nodded, his expression unreadable.
When Mike finished his story, he waited for Harvey to say something. Instead, Harvey looked out around the apartment, his lips tilting downward in the barest hint of disapproval. “Did you chew on these shoes?” he asked at last, nodding to the shoes lying by the couch. Indeed, there were bite marks in the leather, and saliva smeared over them. Mike ducked his head in shame.
“Probably. When I’m Buddy, I’m kind of unaware of what I’m doing. Or at least, of the implications and reasons why I shouldn’t do it. That’s one of the reasons I’ve never tried it without Trevor before.”
“And the others?” Harvey asked patiently. Mike glanced up at him, then quickly looked away again.
“It’s because I get lonely. The purpose of becoming Buddy is to relieve stress, but if there’s no one around, then Buddy… then I get sad, and it just makes things worse. But,” Mike sighed, “without Trevor there’s no one else, and even if he were here I know I should probably be staying away from him.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me?” Harvey’s words, spoken in a sincere and gentle tone, shocked Mike. His head shot up, and he stared at Harvey in amazement. It took a moment before he remembered he was expected to answer the question.
“I… You… I thought you would think it was weird… that it made me weak. I thought you’d mock me for it.” Mike watched almost warily as Harvey extended a hand and touched his shoulder. The touch was gentle, though, and it soothed Mike.
“You need someone to take care of you,” Harvey replied. “I can do that.”
“You will?” Mike asked, barely daring to hope. One of the worst things about working at Pearson Hardman was having a horrible crush on Harvey and thinking he didn’t care at all. But maybe, just maybe, he did.
“Of course,” Harvey replied casually. “You’re an asset to me, and I need to protect my assets.” But there was something about the way he said it, the tenderness in his eyes, that made Mike think that wasn’t his only motive. Mike grinned and jumped up from the couch to hug Harvey.
“Thank you,” he murmured into Harvey’s ear, hoping Harvey could hear from his tone just how grateful he is. He could feel Harvey nod, and then the older man’s arms rose to awkwardly embrace Mike in return. They held each other for a few minutes, Mike happy just to enjoy Harvey’s rare affection. Harvey was the first to pull back.
Harvey pushed Mike to arms’ length and cleared his throat. “So,” he began, “do you need to…play The Puppy Game now?”
A bright grin spread across Mike’s face as he picked the collar up from the table and pressed it into Harvey’s hands. “If you’re okay with it,” he said softly.
“I’m okay,” Harvey scoffed, but there was a slight tremor in his voice, like he was still uneasy with the idea of playing with an adult pretending to be a dog. Mike smiled. To him, the simple fact that Harvey was willing to do this for him spoke volumes, even if Harvey himself would never admit it.
“Okay,” Mike replied. “Put the collar on me, and we’ll play.” As Harvey’s gentle hands slipped the collar around Mike’s neck and Buddy began to fill his consciousness, Mike thought to himself that his life had improved so much from what it had been when he got home that evening. And from some of the looks Harvey had given him, it was a pretty safe bet it would keep improving. The thought made Mike smile as he sank to his knees and let Buddy come out to play with Harvey.
*** Sequel ***