round two prompt post - CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS
ROUND TWO IS NOW CLOSED TO PROMPTS. ANY PROMPT POSTED POSTED HERE FROM NOW ON WILL BE DELETED
New rounds will open at suits_meme Round Two now has an overflow post, all new fills should be posted there. Incomplete fills can still be posted here.
Round Two is officially closed. Round Three will open on Sunday. Feel free to continue posting fills.
IMPORTANT: ( Read more... )
New rounds will open at suits_meme Round Two now has an overflow post, all new fills should be posted there. Incomplete fills can still be posted here.
Round Two is officially closed. Round Three will open on Sunday. Feel free to continue posting fills.
IMPORTANT: ( Read more... )
**
It starts with Harvey calling him Michael and ends with Mike on all fours on Harvey's bed, stark naked and blindfolded as-
Okay, let's not get carried away here.
Let's try this again:
It starts with Harvey calling him Michael.
It's not exactly a day just like any other, because Harvey's already smiled twice, sincerely, and both times because of something Mike has said (Mike ponders apocalypses, parallel universes, spiked coffees and alien mind control). Other than these two small deviations from the norm, however, everything is as it's expected to be: Louis drags Mike about the place for trivial work to piss off Harvey, Rachel keeps giving him that look like he's done something wrong again though he no idea what, and so on and so forth it goes.
It's not exactly a day just like any other, but that doesn't mean that Mike is any more prepared for the unexpected than he would usually be. Which is why, when he's summoned to Harvey's office, he doesn't find it necessary to ready his heart for something staggeringly major and life-altering.
It comes for him anyway.
"Michael," Harvey starts, and Mike tunes out in the very shortest of instants.
Michael, he hears Harvey's voice echo over and over in his head. He must have done something wrong. Something serious. Is Trevor back? Or did someone find out that Mike never even went to Harvard? Maybe Harvey's given up on him and he's finally fired. Mike won't stand for that; he's only ever done good here, and if Harvey thinks he's going without a fight, then-
It's very quiet. Mike drags himself out of his mind and pays attention to the situation at hand. It's not just quiet, he notices - it's perfectly silent. Harvey's mouth is shut as he awaits an answer to a question Mike never even heard.
"You called me Michael," he splutters, totally unnecessarily, but he can't think of anything else to say. How can you answer a question if you don't know what it is, anyway?
"What?" Harvey says, and then quickly, "Yes, Mike, I did. Have you got it?"
Mike blinks. "Um, have I got what?"
"Okay. Here's the deal." He leans forward in his chair and points to the door. "I want you to turn around, walk out of this office and tell Rachel you love her or punch Louis in the face - anything, I don't care what - but when you come back, we're going to start this again and you're not going to jabber on about whether I call you Mike or Michael or Antonio or Sally." He sinks back in his chair again. "Got it?"
"Aye aye, captain," Mike says, and he straightens himself up, salutes Harvey, and spins on his heel and walks out.
He figures Rachel to be the safer of the suggested options, and he doesn't really care that the entire office stares at him openly - Rachel included - when he announces to her, "Harvey told me to tell you I love you."
"He what?" she squeaks, eyebrows up at her hairline. "What is he up to?" She puts a hand on her hip and adjusts the pile of folders under her other arm.
"I think he believes it will have me less distracted," Mike says, lowering his voice. "An interesting proposition."
"And you're just going along with it," she says, unamused.
"I-" Uh. Well. "Yes."
She shakes her head and brushes past him. "God, Mike."
Reply
"Sally, how good of you to join me," Harvey sings. "Please do sit down."
Mike raises an eyebrow but does as he's told. If he had to have a female name, Sally is probably not the one he'd pick but-
"Have you got the information on Richards I asked you for?"
Oh god, that was what he wanted. In that case: "Born January 1987, graduated high school in 2005 with less-than-average marks, never went to college, never held a job longer than a week." And Mike could be seeing things, but to him it looks like Harvey's lips quirk up at the edges, just a little, and his heart speeds up by about ten beats a minute. It's just one of those days.
"So what do you think?" Harvey asks.
Definitely a smirk on those lips. Definitely. His eyes flick back to Harvey's face. "Um, honestly? Purely statistically, I don't think he could have done it. Unless in the time since he graduated he became a super genius or something. Nearly ten million went missing over the last four, five years. That's not exactly an easy stunt to pull off for someone who can barely add one and one."
Harvey deflates almost imperceptibly. "That's what I thought."
"He's got a twin though," Mike swiftly adds, much to Harvey's delight (and thus much to Mike's delight too, he realises). "Martin Richards. Who did amazingly in school, aced Accounting in college, and then," he pauses for dramatic effect, "he disappeared."
Harvey stands up, grinning freely. He walks around his desk, gives Mike a firm pat on the shoulder and tells him, "Good job, Antonio," before exiting the office, cellphone at his ear.
Mike takes a few moments to collect himself. There's a giddy smile he can't quite wipe from his face, however, and his heart refuses to calm down and god, this doesn't even make any sense. It's not like he, well, uh. Anyway. Not going there.
Except that he totally does go there, or at least his subconscious does that night: he falls asleep just past midnight and is rewarded with dreams full of vague images of skin upon skin that are entirely not vague enough, and a distinctly familiar voice crying Michael and Good job and sometimes Sally, and when he wakes up the next morning, his dick rudely greets him by twitching impatiently and Mike thinks no, there is no way in hell. Not now, not ever.
Then five minutes later, he's in the shower with a hand wrapped around his cock.
It's a matter of practicality, not pleasure, okay? Because he has to be at work soon and this is the easiest way to deal with... well, this. Or maybe it's both. It does feel - ah, fuck - amazing. Whatever.
He dresses in his nicest suit today, which is probably still not nice enough for Harvey, and eats a lazy breakfast of butter on toast. He's just brushing his teeth when his phone sounds. There's a text message from Harvey, and he lets the toothbrush dangle from his lips as he opens it up. It says:
Downstairs. Now.
To Mike, this suggests a few things, and none of them good. He thinks about fleeing through the window but he's not exactly Spider-Man, and he thinks also about pretending he didn't see the message and staying inside, but in the end, he has to get to work at some point. No matter what, he has to go through Harvey. Shit.
He doesn't reply to the SMS, but he hurries to finish getting ready and throw his bag over his shoulder, scooping up his keys off the counter to lock the door on his way out.
Reply
Im not sure if this makes me weird, but since Mike took Harvey seriously about the whole "tell Rachel you love her" thing, i could've totally seen him reading the text and being like OHSHIT NOW? I GOTTA GET DOWN THERE STAT so he doesnt take his toothbrush out of his mouth and just goes. And Harvey would be all MICHAEL *FACEPALM* YOURE AN IDIOT. (letshavesex,yeah?)
Great fill, continue, yeah? ;D
Reply
Reply
Reply
**
"Seven minutes - not bad," says Harvey as he leans against the car, arms folded over his chest. "Have you eaten?"
"Uh, kind of." It is way too soon to be seeing Harvey, after the events of this morning. And god, he looks good. Harvey always looks good.
"Alright," Harvey says and pushes off the car, coming to stand right in front of Mike.
Mike is reminded of childhood notions of personal bubbles, and his first instinct is to take a step backwards to put a bit of space between them, but then Harvey reaches up and fusses with Mike's hair for a moment and steps away himself.
"Come on," he gestures as he gets into the car.
Mike follows obediently.
The first ten minutes of the drive pass by without conversation, partly because Mike still feels too uncomfortable to even so much as ask where they're going, and partly because it doesn't look like Harvey cares to talk either. He fidgets with the seatbelt across his chest, brushes his hands over his pants a few times to iron them out, then fusses with the seatbelt again.
"You can put on some music, if you'd like," Harvey says casually as stops at a light and clicks on the left indicator. He turns to look at Mike. "I think I've got some Justin Bieber in the car."
Mike chokes on absolutely nothing. "You, what."
Harvey is silent for a long while, then his lips pull into something that is less a smile and more just a lot of teeth.
"Oh, god," Mike says, finally breathing in again, "I thought you were being serious for a second."
Harvey says nothing. He looks back at the road.
Mike swallows. "Wait, are you serious?"
Harvey still says nothing, and Mike takes a moment to wordlessly freak the fuck out. There is a chance that his boss is a fan of the Biebs. This is quite literally the most terrifying thing he's discovered all year, bar none, and he can't even bring himself to check if the CD is there. His heart won't let him; it couldn't possibly handle confirmation. He texts Rachel, I think Harvey likes Justin Bieber, and closes his eyes and rests his head back into the chair.
"Is it far?" Mikes asks after another ten minutes pass. "Where are we going?"
"No," Harvey replies, and, "Here." He pulls the car to a stop on the side of the road and unlocks the doors.
"Oh?" Mike opens his eyes and scans the area, not exactly sure what to look for because all he sees is buildings, buildings and more buildings. "Are we meeting a client?"
Harvey takes off his seatbelt and opens his door, glancing at Mike. "No."
Right, sure, yeah, thanks for the detailed info, Mike thinks, waddling after him. He follows him down an alleyway, along a backstreet, and through one more alleyway before they hang a right into something that looks suspiciously like... a coffee shop.
Reply
Mike frowns, and Harvey nods at her. "We're not just here for coffee, are we?" he asks slowly as they're led to a table up the back beneath a giant painting of sunflowers. There's a small square of paper in the corner that says Greeting the Morning - John Christensen, $1400. It's not really that good, Mike thinks. He doesn't say it.
"They have great coffee here," Harvey says, and it's not what Mike was asking but it answers his question anyway.
It also raises a hundred more, though, and there wouldn't even be enough time in the day to get through them all.
"Two lattes, thanks," Harvey tells the waitress as they sit at ninety degrees to each other on the plush red bench that lines the walls of the café.
"Shouldn't we be at work?" Mike asks, shifting to get comfortable.
"It's fine. This is work."
Mike raises his eyebrows. "How exactly is this work?"
"Don't worry, Michael, you're with me. It's work."
Mike promptly clamps his mouth shut and forgets everything he wanted to say. Harvey already has so much control over him, it's hardly fair that he can also use Mike's full name against him, on top of all that. It doesn't even make sense. This is ridiculous.
"If we're going for nicknames," Mike eventually says, "shouldn't I have something to call you? Like Harv? Harvster? Speccy?"
There's a slightly uncomfortable silence, then Harvey looks at him plainly. "No."
"Gee, tough crowd," Mike quips but Harvey's expression doesn't falter. "Okay, yeah," he gives, "Sorry about that." He smiles sheepishly as the waitress puts their coffees down in front of them.
Harvey quickly takes a sip, but Mike doesn't miss the way his lips turn up at the corners first.
"I should have gone with something more classy, like Evangeline."
Harvey pulls the mug away from his mouth and laughs for all of two seconds. He dabs at his lips with a napkin, then shakes his head and grins, leaning back against the wall. He exhales slowly and closes his eyes.
Mike finds he desperately wants to lick Harvey's jaw. Crap.
"So," Mike starts, breaking the silence (as a way to distract himself from Harvey's jawline, if we're being honest). "Why are we getting coffee?" (It's a weak distraction. Flimsy at best.)
Harvey opens his eyes and frowns. He sits forward. "Do we need a reason to-" Apparently that's not the answer he wants to go with, and he starts again. "Because I want to."
Mike squeezes the mug on the table between his palms, reveling in every wave of warmth that crashes over into his skin. "And why with me?"
Harvey sighs. Shrugs. Gives Mike that look he normally reserves for Mike-you-need-to-learn-your-shit times. "Because you were free," he finally offers.
"Damn," Mike says. His heart (stupidly) won't stop accelerating. "And here I thought it was my irresistible charm and conversational skills."
"Never," Harvey smirks, licking his lips before navigating the coffee to them again.
Mike watches Harvey drink until it ventures into The Realm Of Awkwardly Long Stares. He blinks and looks away, but his attempts to conceal his extended gaze are futile from the minute they're conceived, and he gets caught out. As he picks up his mug, his ears feel hot, but Harvey just stares right back.
Strangely, Mike suddenly realises, this feels like he's being courted.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment