Suits Fic: at your feet
Title: at your feet
Author: smartalli
Count: 1492
Fandom: Suits
Characters/Pairings: Harvey/Mike, Donna, mentions of past Harvey/Kyle
Warnings: PWP
Summary: Harvey is a famous porn star. Mike is his newly hired fluffer.
Disclaimer: Don’t own it. Not mine. Don’t sue.
A/N: In the middle of trying to write another story, this popped into my head. What can you do?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Are you going to come in and actually do your job, or are you going to stand out there all day, pretending to?” Harvey leans into the arm of his chair and stares down at his iPad as he uses his right index finger to scroll through that morning’s New York Times, pausing to read an article on Michael Pineda’s right shoulder injury. He’s seeing another doctor to seek another opinion. Wishful thinking on his part. Harvey would be surprised if Pineda threw another pitch this season.
He takes a sip of his coffee and hears a shuffle and the quiet closing of a door, and he flips to another article, this one on Clemens’ perjury trial. He shakes his head. What a waste.
He feels hands on his belt and Harvey spreads his legs, scrolling back to the front page. The hands pull down his zipper and reach into his pants, pulling out his cock and giving it a quick, gentle tug.
Romney...idiot Secret Service agents...Murdoch...the Dow is up...
There’s a gentle squeeze by a ring of fingers at the base of his cock, then another hand cups his balls, rolls them, tugs them gently. Fingers glide and slide along the length of him, a thumb sweeping the head over each pass. A sharp spike of pleasure shoots its way through Harvey’s body.
Interesting.
Those are not Kyle’s hands.
Harvey exhales as his cock is lifted and a tongue runs slowly along the underside, pressing against the resistance of the hand holding it. His balls are tugged again, rolled...squeezed, and the mouth closes over just the head of his cock, sucking gently, the tip of his tongue playing at the hole.
That is not Kyle’s mouth.
Harvey slowly moves the iPad out of his line of vision, setting it down on the table next to him as he looks down at scattered dark blonde hair on top of vaguely pale skin, shuttered eyes, and red lips stretched wide, trying to take as much of Harvey in as he can.
Harvey settles back into the chair and curls his hands loosely over the ends of the arms, spreading his legs a little wider, allowing the man to burrow himself a little deeper into Harvey as his hands pull and squeeze and tug, as his mouth licks and sucks. The man is new, earnest and determined and focused, and he makes a delicious picture, huddled as he is between Harvey’s legs, Harvey’s cock poking the side of his mouth.
The man pulls off briefly and sighs, then shoves up the base of Harvey’s shirt just a little, burrowing his nose into the hair at the base of Harvey’s cock as his tongue flattens and sweeps over the skin. He works his way back up to the tip and when he reaches it, takes him in as far as he can, sucking hard just once before he begins moving his head up and down at a furious pace, his lips just tight enough to make Harvey’s gut clench.
Harvey’s breathing begins to quicken, and when Blondie lets up on his pace, Harvey taps the hollow of his cheek with his left pointer finger. The man pulls back and sits back on his haunches, surprise clearly etched in wide blue eyes.
Pretty little thing, isn’t he?
“The goal is to get me hard, not get me off.”
A blush colors Blondie’s cheeks and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he nods, looking away.
Harvey stands and steps into the man’s space, a sock-clad foot nudging the prominent bulge in the other man’s jeans, Harvey’s dick pointing straight at Blondie, the only part of him exposed in an otherwise immaculate picture of a bigshot CEO in a finely tailored, bespoke suit.
(In a retread of about a million pornos, in about five minutes CEO Harvey will be asking his secretary to take lines and then take his cock as he bends her over his desk. Predictable and boring, but it’s a fantasy that sells, and that’s all Jessica cares about.)
Harvey rubs at the bulge gently with his foot, and Blondie’s eyelashes flutter briefly before he turns his eyes to look up at Harvey, his hands braced on the floor on either side of his spread legs. Harvey looks down at his cock then meets Blondie’s eyes and another embarrassed flush lights up Blondie’s cheeks as he rises up, reaching for Harvey’s cock and gently tucking it away, smoothing down the base of his shirt and zipping up his pants. When he finishes buckling Harvey’s belt, he sits back on his haunches again and looks up at Harvey, licking his lips.
Harvey lifts a hand and runs a thumb softly across Blondie’s lips, and watches as the other man’s eyelashes flutter.
So responsive.
“What’s your name?”
Hooded blue eyes meet his. “Mike.”
“Mike.”
A nod and a sigh as Harvey brushes Mike’s cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mike.”
Shouts from a voice just a few feet outside his door, calling everyone to set, brings him back to reality, and he looks down at Mike, looking up at him so earnestly, legs spread and body open in invitation, and regrets that work is calling.
“That’s my cue.”
He leans down and slips his shoes on one by one, balancing his feet in turn on Mike’s thigh so the other man can tie them for him. Mike’s fingers trail off his ankle after each one, and when he’s finished Harvey steps directly into his space, forcing Mike to tilt his head back all the way to meet Harvey’s eyes. Mike leans forward to rub his cheek against Harvey’s bulge, his eyes locked on Harvey’s, and is rewarded with a soft laugh and a hand running through his hair, fingers scratching his scalp. Mike’s smile is instant.
Beautifully responsive.
Harvey steps away and lifts the suit jacket off the back of the chair, slipping it on and closing the door of the dressing room behind him. He buttons up the suit coat and adjusts his cuffs, and when Donna comes walking down the hallway he starts to walk next to her, matching her pace.
From the corner of his eye he can see the smirk growing on her face, and she says, “I see you liked your present.”
The corners of his mouth lift. “I should have known he was from you.”
“Adorable little thing, isn’t he?”
Harvey hums. “You realize Louis is going to try to steal him out from under me now, don’t you?”
They reach the stage and Donna stops, turns, and looks him in the eye. “And I’m sure that would be a problem, unless, that is, I already made sure Jessica wrote it into his contract that he works for you, and you alone.”
“Fluffers don’t get contracts.”
She pauses, looks at him. “Special case.”
Harvey slides his hands into his pockets, tilts his head.
“After all, it’s in a director’s best interests to keep her star happy, isn’t it?” She smiles at him then turns her attention to the men setting the scene, walking over to intervene when one of them puts a lamp in the wrong place.
The scene goes well, but Harvey expected nothing less. His co-star today, Sasha, is a professional, knows exactly what to do and what not to do, and they make it through their lines on the first take. It doesn’t take long before he has her bent over the top of the desk, blouse off, bra pulled beneath her breasts and skirt pulled up over her hips as he enters her, hands squeezing and kneading her breasts as he begins to slowly slide his hips forward. She throws her long, dark brown hair back, and Harvey looks up for the first time, past a crew member holding a boom over their heads, to see Mike, standing in a doorway, watching him.
Harvey meets his eyes and stares him down, and begins to pound into Sasha with abandon, watching as Mike’s lips part and he leans into the doorframe. Harvey snaps his hips, fucking her furiously, and watches as Mike’s chest rises and falls faster and faster. When Harvey finally comes, Mike clutches the wood of the doorframe and squeezes himself through his jeans, clenching his eyes shut, and Harvey finally looks away to finish the scene.
When he looks up again, Mike is gone, no doubt retreated back to the safety of Harvey’s dressing room.
Donna calls cut and stands from her chair, claps her hands once. “Let’s break for lunch, and then start setting up for the next scene. Thank you!”
The crew begins to disperse, towards craft service, and Harvey looks down the hallway toward his dressing room, the corners of his mouth lifting as he tucks himself away.
Good thing Harvey isn’t done for the day.
{finis}
Author: smartalli
Count: 1492
Fandom: Suits
Characters/Pairings: Harvey/Mike, Donna, mentions of past Harvey/Kyle
Warnings: PWP
Summary: Harvey is a famous porn star. Mike is his newly hired fluffer.
Disclaimer: Don’t own it. Not mine. Don’t sue.
A/N: In the middle of trying to write another story, this popped into my head. What can you do?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Are you going to come in and actually do your job, or are you going to stand out there all day, pretending to?” Harvey leans into the arm of his chair and stares down at his iPad as he uses his right index finger to scroll through that morning’s New York Times, pausing to read an article on Michael Pineda’s right shoulder injury. He’s seeing another doctor to seek another opinion. Wishful thinking on his part. Harvey would be surprised if Pineda threw another pitch this season.
He takes a sip of his coffee and hears a shuffle and the quiet closing of a door, and he flips to another article, this one on Clemens’ perjury trial. He shakes his head. What a waste.
He feels hands on his belt and Harvey spreads his legs, scrolling back to the front page. The hands pull down his zipper and reach into his pants, pulling out his cock and giving it a quick, gentle tug.
Romney...idiot Secret Service agents...Murdoch...the Dow is up...
There’s a gentle squeeze by a ring of fingers at the base of his cock, then another hand cups his balls, rolls them, tugs them gently. Fingers glide and slide along the length of him, a thumb sweeping the head over each pass. A sharp spike of pleasure shoots its way through Harvey’s body.
Interesting.
Those are not Kyle’s hands.
Harvey exhales as his cock is lifted and a tongue runs slowly along the underside, pressing against the resistance of the hand holding it. His balls are tugged again, rolled...squeezed, and the mouth closes over just the head of his cock, sucking gently, the tip of his tongue playing at the hole.
That is not Kyle’s mouth.
Harvey slowly moves the iPad out of his line of vision, setting it down on the table next to him as he looks down at scattered dark blonde hair on top of vaguely pale skin, shuttered eyes, and red lips stretched wide, trying to take as much of Harvey in as he can.
Harvey settles back into the chair and curls his hands loosely over the ends of the arms, spreading his legs a little wider, allowing the man to burrow himself a little deeper into Harvey as his hands pull and squeeze and tug, as his mouth licks and sucks. The man is new, earnest and determined and focused, and he makes a delicious picture, huddled as he is between Harvey’s legs, Harvey’s cock poking the side of his mouth.
The man pulls off briefly and sighs, then shoves up the base of Harvey’s shirt just a little, burrowing his nose into the hair at the base of Harvey’s cock as his tongue flattens and sweeps over the skin. He works his way back up to the tip and when he reaches it, takes him in as far as he can, sucking hard just once before he begins moving his head up and down at a furious pace, his lips just tight enough to make Harvey’s gut clench.
Harvey’s breathing begins to quicken, and when Blondie lets up on his pace, Harvey taps the hollow of his cheek with his left pointer finger. The man pulls back and sits back on his haunches, surprise clearly etched in wide blue eyes.
Pretty little thing, isn’t he?
“The goal is to get me hard, not get me off.”
A blush colors Blondie’s cheeks and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he nods, looking away.
Harvey stands and steps into the man’s space, a sock-clad foot nudging the prominent bulge in the other man’s jeans, Harvey’s dick pointing straight at Blondie, the only part of him exposed in an otherwise immaculate picture of a bigshot CEO in a finely tailored, bespoke suit.
(In a retread of about a million pornos, in about five minutes CEO Harvey will be asking his secretary to take lines and then take his cock as he bends her over his desk. Predictable and boring, but it’s a fantasy that sells, and that’s all Jessica cares about.)
Harvey rubs at the bulge gently with his foot, and Blondie’s eyelashes flutter briefly before he turns his eyes to look up at Harvey, his hands braced on the floor on either side of his spread legs. Harvey looks down at his cock then meets Blondie’s eyes and another embarrassed flush lights up Blondie’s cheeks as he rises up, reaching for Harvey’s cock and gently tucking it away, smoothing down the base of his shirt and zipping up his pants. When he finishes buckling Harvey’s belt, he sits back on his haunches again and looks up at Harvey, licking his lips.
Harvey lifts a hand and runs a thumb softly across Blondie’s lips, and watches as the other man’s eyelashes flutter.
So responsive.
“What’s your name?”
Hooded blue eyes meet his. “Mike.”
“Mike.”
A nod and a sigh as Harvey brushes Mike’s cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mike.”
Shouts from a voice just a few feet outside his door, calling everyone to set, brings him back to reality, and he looks down at Mike, looking up at him so earnestly, legs spread and body open in invitation, and regrets that work is calling.
“That’s my cue.”
He leans down and slips his shoes on one by one, balancing his feet in turn on Mike’s thigh so the other man can tie them for him. Mike’s fingers trail off his ankle after each one, and when he’s finished Harvey steps directly into his space, forcing Mike to tilt his head back all the way to meet Harvey’s eyes. Mike leans forward to rub his cheek against Harvey’s bulge, his eyes locked on Harvey’s, and is rewarded with a soft laugh and a hand running through his hair, fingers scratching his scalp. Mike’s smile is instant.
Beautifully responsive.
Harvey steps away and lifts the suit jacket off the back of the chair, slipping it on and closing the door of the dressing room behind him. He buttons up the suit coat and adjusts his cuffs, and when Donna comes walking down the hallway he starts to walk next to her, matching her pace.
From the corner of his eye he can see the smirk growing on her face, and she says, “I see you liked your present.”
The corners of his mouth lift. “I should have known he was from you.”
“Adorable little thing, isn’t he?”
Harvey hums. “You realize Louis is going to try to steal him out from under me now, don’t you?”
They reach the stage and Donna stops, turns, and looks him in the eye. “And I’m sure that would be a problem, unless, that is, I already made sure Jessica wrote it into his contract that he works for you, and you alone.”
“Fluffers don’t get contracts.”
She pauses, looks at him. “Special case.”
Harvey slides his hands into his pockets, tilts his head.
“After all, it’s in a director’s best interests to keep her star happy, isn’t it?” She smiles at him then turns her attention to the men setting the scene, walking over to intervene when one of them puts a lamp in the wrong place.
The scene goes well, but Harvey expected nothing less. His co-star today, Sasha, is a professional, knows exactly what to do and what not to do, and they make it through their lines on the first take. It doesn’t take long before he has her bent over the top of the desk, blouse off, bra pulled beneath her breasts and skirt pulled up over her hips as he enters her, hands squeezing and kneading her breasts as he begins to slowly slide his hips forward. She throws her long, dark brown hair back, and Harvey looks up for the first time, past a crew member holding a boom over their heads, to see Mike, standing in a doorway, watching him.
Harvey meets his eyes and stares him down, and begins to pound into Sasha with abandon, watching as Mike’s lips part and he leans into the doorframe. Harvey snaps his hips, fucking her furiously, and watches as Mike’s chest rises and falls faster and faster. When Harvey finally comes, Mike clutches the wood of the doorframe and squeezes himself through his jeans, clenching his eyes shut, and Harvey finally looks away to finish the scene.
When he looks up again, Mike is gone, no doubt retreated back to the safety of Harvey’s dressing room.
Donna calls cut and stands from her chair, claps her hands once. “Let’s break for lunch, and then start setting up for the next scene. Thank you!”
The crew begins to disperse, towards craft service, and Harvey looks down the hallway toward his dressing room, the corners of his mouth lifting as he tucks himself away.
Good thing Harvey isn’t done for the day.
{finis}