Love Amongst the Chiffon (Harvey/Mike) Part 1/2
title: Love Amongst the Chiffon
characters/pairings: Harvey/Mike, appearances made by Louis, Jessica, Donna, Rachel, and various associates.
rating: PG-13
warnings: Possible minor discrepancies from the shows Project Runway and Suits. Also please note that I have the fashion sense of your average girl and am not nearly fashionable enough to be on Project Runway, and therefore the descriptions of the outfits may be a little vague.
word count: 4,456
summary: Project Runway AU. Harvey has always known that clothes reflect the character of the person wearing them. So when Mike comes into his life dressed like that, he knows that he wants nothing to do with him. That is, until he realizes that he does.
a/n: The inspiration for this comes from quellfrost's Project Runway AU, although this one takes a different course. I would highly recommend reading that one, though! Also, I have not written fanfiction in a very long time, so I’m incredibly excited to come back to the game with this fic!
Harvey Specter believes that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by looking at how they dress.
So it’s no surprise that Harvey thinks everyone should dress well. In Harvey’s world, there are very few people who are excused from this, and even then they don’t escape without his disapproval.
Harvey is fairly excited when he is accepted to be a contestant on Project Runway because there will be people like him, people who love clothes and fashion and dressing well.
When he gets there it is a different story. There are cameras everywhere, and cameramen in baggy sweatshirts and stained jeans. He hasn’t met with the judges yet, but at least he knows that they’ll be fashionable.
And then there are the contestants. Harvey hadn’t been prepared for the heavy aura of competition in the air, and it sinks right down into his bones. He suddenly wants nothing more than to win. Harvey’s always been competitive by nature anyways.
He sidles up to a pretty woman, probably a little older than him, dressed in a floral blouse and business skirt. He feels right at home next to her in his three piece suit.
Slowly he surveys the other contestants. There are a few young people in scarves and skinny jeans and thick glasses, and he brushes over them immediately. They’ll go fast, he thinks.
There is one young woman who catches his eye, wearing brown shorts, a brown jacket, and a shirt with lots of little geometric figures sewn onto it. She obviously made the outfit herself. Clearly she’s a good sewer, and Harvey faintly hopes that he’ll be paired up with her when it comes to the team assignments.
A man sneaks up to him and the woman and introduces himself as Louis Litt. He exudes confidence but doesn’t look as good doing it as Harvey does. The woman calls herself Jessica Pearson. Harvey doesn’t give his name.
They are apparently waiting on one more contestant. The doors open and a young man with tousled brown hair comes in, wearing an outfit that makes Harvey choke. A dark green hoodie and khaki shorts, and-Harvey shakes his head-sandals. It is summer and Harvey is slightly warm in his suit but still.
At least Harvey knows who is going home first.
When they get to the place they’ll be staying and separate for the night, Harvey gives up on keeping appearances. There are no cameras here and he really can’t see himself getting along with any of the guys here anyway.
Actually, the only person he has really tried to form any connection with would be Jessica. She is just as intelligent as her dress sense would suggest, and they have already silently made a pact that they would do their best to get each other to the top three.
One of the guys is taking orders for pizza, and Harvey would normally turn his nose up at the offer, but he really is hungry. He plops down on the couch after requesting a light cheese pizza (though he knows the chances of getting that are next to none, as all the other guys have requested pepperoni) and tries to focus on the football game.
He feels someone sit next to him but can’t really bring himself to give a damn.
That is, until he feels that someone tap him on the arm.
“What do you want?” He asks. And yeah, maybe in retrospect, he should try to be slightly nicer to the people he’s going to be working alongside-and maybe with-these next few weeks.
It’s the boy with the hoodie. The boy with the sandals, Harvey reminds himself, before he can get pulled in by those big blue eyes and puppy dog looks.
“Um, hi,” the kid says. “My name’s Mike Ross.”
Harvey glances back at the game briefly but the score hasn’t changed. “Harvey,” he introduces himself finally. “Harvey Specter.”
The kid-Mike-grins. “Cool name. So why are you here?”
What does he think this is, prison? Harvey thinks. “I’m here to win. Isn’t that why we’re all here?”
Mike’s grin drops a little. “Oh. Right. Well, good luck!”
Harvey wonders what he’s supposed to say now. He hates being unsure of where he stands, as it usually results in him putting his foot in his mouth. “I’d wish you luck too, but I’m more concerned about whether your clothing reflects your design style.”
Yep, like that.
Mike looks down. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Ever hear about first impressions, kid?”
“Mike.”
“What?”
“Don’t call me kid, my name is Mike.”
“Yeah, okay, kid.”
And really, Harvey needs to stop talking. But this is kind of fun, and when Mike bristles, his eyes light up a very pretty blue.
A moment later, they burst out laughing. Harvey thinks this is kind of a good start.
“Anyways,” Mike says, before they crawl into bed for lights out. “You’re wearing a suit.”
“Clothes reflect a person’s character. This suit says everything it needs to about me.”
Mike hums at that but doesn’t say anything else.
In the morning they are introduced to their first challenge.
It is pretty insane, and clearly made to test a designer’s ability to find inspiration in anything.
Still, Harvey can’t see himself finding inspiration from a weed.
He looks to the other tables to see which designer got which plant. Jessica is looking pretty pleased seeing as she got the yellow rose, and the young girl who can sew-Rachel, he thinks her name was-got bluebonnets.
Louis is biting his lip over some kind of fern, though its still better than Harvey’s dandelion. Harvey looks back down at the weed and scowls at it. Maybe it will wilt and he can find inspiration in that.
“Cool flower,” Mike says. Of course he would say that.
“Its not a flower, kid, it’s a weed.” He gazes longingly at the pot of poppies sitting innocently on Mike’s workstand.
“Taraxacum. It’s kind of a flower,” Mike says. “It’s more inspirational than my Dendromecon.”
“What?” Is all Harvey can think to say.
Mike blushes. “I read a book on flowers once when I was a kid. It kind of stuck. Um… everything I read kind of does.”
Harvey is still staring at him blankly, and he tries to stop himself, but he just can’t. “What?”
Mike is really red by now. “Nevermind,” he says, and he rushes off to his work station.
It turns out Harvey can find inspiration from a weed-flower. His frilly white skirt and yellow top place him firmly in the safe spot.
Some guy whose name Harvey never learned goes home. He cries a little bit when he comes to the room backstage and everyone pats him on the back, but they never really got to know him so no one is really that upset. Harvey doesn’t even really make it off the couch to say goodbye.
Mike is in the top three. And Harvey realizes that maybe clothes don’t say quite everything about a person, because his poppy-inspired dress is stunning.
Now if he could only dress himself as well. Oh, the possibilities.
“What’s your sob story, kid?” One of the camera guys asks Mike.
They are now a few challenges in to the show and everyone is relatively comfortable with each other. Apparently its now the time they starts sharing their bittersweet back stories.
The cameraman leans in close and the camera on his shoulder almost falls onto Mike. Harvey watches from his workstation. He briefly entertains the thought that maybe he should swoop in and save the kid.
“I… I don’t think that I have one,” Mike replies as calmly as he can, though his stance suggests he is ready to bolt.
“Come on, everyone here has one.”
Not necessarily true, thinks Harvey. He, for instance, worked in a mailroom before coming here, and while not the most glamorous job in the world, Harvey thinks of it more as a success story than anything.
“I’m not sure if I feel comfortable telling it quite yet.” Harvey perks up at that. So there is something.
Suddenly, Harvey really wants to know. Wonders why Mike hasn’t told him. They’ve gotten pretty close these past few challenges, and Harvey would probably call the kid a friend if he did mundane things like have friends.
“Alright, kid,” the camera guy says, and Harvey thinks that he should really stop calling Mike a kid, because can’t he see that the kid doesn’t like it? “But we’ll come back to you. You’re lucky that you’re probably gonna last a few more challenges.”
And that’s the truth if Harvey ever heard it. Mike is really very good, good enough that Harvey would probably feel threatened if he didn’t know that Mike wasn’t capable of hurting a fly and therefore definitely not finale three material. You had to be cutthroat in order to make it big in this business.
Mike was probably going home in one of the next challenges.
Harvey winced as he pricked himself on the needle he was using to hand-sew a hem. Now why did that thought make him feel… empty?
They are the only two people left in the sewing room at the end of the day. Harvey is sitting a few rows behind Mike, and he can see the blue chiffon blouse that Mike is working on for the avant-garde challenge. It has ruffles down the side. It looks nice.
Harvey frowns at his own denim dress. It doesn’t look bad, per se, but so far he’s not done well during the avant-garde challenges. He needs to break out of his comfort zone.
In more ways than one, Harvey thinks. He shakes away the traitorous thought and looks back at Mike.
“So, kid,” he starts, unsure about what he is going to say. “You’ve got anyone waiting for you back home?”
Mike jumps on it, still all too willing to answer any question thrown his way, and glances back with a smile. He returns to his work in a moment but starts to speak this time.
“My grandma is in a nursing home. I can’t wait to get back and see her.” He laughs. “She has trouble with the video cams that they let us use, so my friends have been helping her. They’re great.” He sighs heavily. “I never thought I’d miss them this much. But I guess everyone’s feeling that way now.”
Harvey isn’t feeling that way. His family doesn’t speak to him anymore, not since he failed to get a job and was demoted to working in a mail room. Scotty, his ex, was in the UK now, and she never called anymore. The only person he has waiting for him is Donna, and she’s… well, she’s Donna. They get along fine without each other.
Harvey pauses to step back and look at his garment. He looks up at Mike’s back, at the thin body but strong shoulders, at the hair that is ruffled in the back like he never actually combs it.
Maybe he’ll call Donna when they’re done here. Suddenly, he finds himself very much in need of her wise words of Donna-ism.
Harvey loves the runway. He loves seeing his finished product up there, seeing it compared to the other contestants’ work. He hasn’t fallen apart on it yet.
He hasn’t been in the bottom yet.
But now as he sees his high-waisted denim dress with green accents coming down the runway he has a flicker of doubt. It still doesn’t look bad, but it just looks good. That’s it.
He doesn’t want to be safe this week. But he doesn’t want to be in the bottom either.
He feels his palms begin to sweat, and rubs them on the pant leg of his suit. In any other situation he would be disgusted with himself, but right now he’s too nervous.
Suddenly he feels a pressure on his hand and looks down to see another, paler, smaller hand covering his. He turns and finds Mike smiling at him.
“Your dress looks great,” he says. Then he grins cheekily. “I’d wear it.”
“You’d look terrible in drag,” Harvey finds himself replying, mainly on autopilot.
But his hands are dry now and his heart is racing for an entirely different reason.
Mike is safe. Harvey is in the top. Louis Litt wins.
Harvey curses his luck-the judges liked his design but he had used the wrong color for the accents. Louis’s drab red pencil skirt and black blouse had been “innovational enough”.
Louis of course only latched onto the first word, and then had latched on to Harvey to brag about it once they were backstage.
Gregory had gone home. It wasn’t Louis, but Harvey was glad to see him go. Gregory had spent the past few challenges glaring at Mike.
Part 2
characters/pairings: Harvey/Mike, appearances made by Louis, Jessica, Donna, Rachel, and various associates.
rating: PG-13
warnings: Possible minor discrepancies from the shows Project Runway and Suits. Also please note that I have the fashion sense of your average girl and am not nearly fashionable enough to be on Project Runway, and therefore the descriptions of the outfits may be a little vague.
word count: 4,456
summary: Project Runway AU. Harvey has always known that clothes reflect the character of the person wearing them. So when Mike comes into his life dressed like that, he knows that he wants nothing to do with him. That is, until he realizes that he does.
a/n: The inspiration for this comes from quellfrost's Project Runway AU, although this one takes a different course. I would highly recommend reading that one, though! Also, I have not written fanfiction in a very long time, so I’m incredibly excited to come back to the game with this fic!
Harvey Specter believes that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by looking at how they dress.
So it’s no surprise that Harvey thinks everyone should dress well. In Harvey’s world, there are very few people who are excused from this, and even then they don’t escape without his disapproval.
Harvey is fairly excited when he is accepted to be a contestant on Project Runway because there will be people like him, people who love clothes and fashion and dressing well.
When he gets there it is a different story. There are cameras everywhere, and cameramen in baggy sweatshirts and stained jeans. He hasn’t met with the judges yet, but at least he knows that they’ll be fashionable.
And then there are the contestants. Harvey hadn’t been prepared for the heavy aura of competition in the air, and it sinks right down into his bones. He suddenly wants nothing more than to win. Harvey’s always been competitive by nature anyways.
He sidles up to a pretty woman, probably a little older than him, dressed in a floral blouse and business skirt. He feels right at home next to her in his three piece suit.
Slowly he surveys the other contestants. There are a few young people in scarves and skinny jeans and thick glasses, and he brushes over them immediately. They’ll go fast, he thinks.
There is one young woman who catches his eye, wearing brown shorts, a brown jacket, and a shirt with lots of little geometric figures sewn onto it. She obviously made the outfit herself. Clearly she’s a good sewer, and Harvey faintly hopes that he’ll be paired up with her when it comes to the team assignments.
A man sneaks up to him and the woman and introduces himself as Louis Litt. He exudes confidence but doesn’t look as good doing it as Harvey does. The woman calls herself Jessica Pearson. Harvey doesn’t give his name.
They are apparently waiting on one more contestant. The doors open and a young man with tousled brown hair comes in, wearing an outfit that makes Harvey choke. A dark green hoodie and khaki shorts, and-Harvey shakes his head-sandals. It is summer and Harvey is slightly warm in his suit but still.
At least Harvey knows who is going home first.
When they get to the place they’ll be staying and separate for the night, Harvey gives up on keeping appearances. There are no cameras here and he really can’t see himself getting along with any of the guys here anyway.
Actually, the only person he has really tried to form any connection with would be Jessica. She is just as intelligent as her dress sense would suggest, and they have already silently made a pact that they would do their best to get each other to the top three.
One of the guys is taking orders for pizza, and Harvey would normally turn his nose up at the offer, but he really is hungry. He plops down on the couch after requesting a light cheese pizza (though he knows the chances of getting that are next to none, as all the other guys have requested pepperoni) and tries to focus on the football game.
He feels someone sit next to him but can’t really bring himself to give a damn.
That is, until he feels that someone tap him on the arm.
“What do you want?” He asks. And yeah, maybe in retrospect, he should try to be slightly nicer to the people he’s going to be working alongside-and maybe with-these next few weeks.
It’s the boy with the hoodie. The boy with the sandals, Harvey reminds himself, before he can get pulled in by those big blue eyes and puppy dog looks.
“Um, hi,” the kid says. “My name’s Mike Ross.”
Harvey glances back at the game briefly but the score hasn’t changed. “Harvey,” he introduces himself finally. “Harvey Specter.”
The kid-Mike-grins. “Cool name. So why are you here?”
What does he think this is, prison? Harvey thinks. “I’m here to win. Isn’t that why we’re all here?”
Mike’s grin drops a little. “Oh. Right. Well, good luck!”
Harvey wonders what he’s supposed to say now. He hates being unsure of where he stands, as it usually results in him putting his foot in his mouth. “I’d wish you luck too, but I’m more concerned about whether your clothing reflects your design style.”
Yep, like that.
Mike looks down. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Ever hear about first impressions, kid?”
“Mike.”
“What?”
“Don’t call me kid, my name is Mike.”
“Yeah, okay, kid.”
And really, Harvey needs to stop talking. But this is kind of fun, and when Mike bristles, his eyes light up a very pretty blue.
A moment later, they burst out laughing. Harvey thinks this is kind of a good start.
“Anyways,” Mike says, before they crawl into bed for lights out. “You’re wearing a suit.”
“Clothes reflect a person’s character. This suit says everything it needs to about me.”
Mike hums at that but doesn’t say anything else.
In the morning they are introduced to their first challenge.
It is pretty insane, and clearly made to test a designer’s ability to find inspiration in anything.
Still, Harvey can’t see himself finding inspiration from a weed.
He looks to the other tables to see which designer got which plant. Jessica is looking pretty pleased seeing as she got the yellow rose, and the young girl who can sew-Rachel, he thinks her name was-got bluebonnets.
Louis is biting his lip over some kind of fern, though its still better than Harvey’s dandelion. Harvey looks back down at the weed and scowls at it. Maybe it will wilt and he can find inspiration in that.
“Cool flower,” Mike says. Of course he would say that.
“Its not a flower, kid, it’s a weed.” He gazes longingly at the pot of poppies sitting innocently on Mike’s workstand.
“Taraxacum. It’s kind of a flower,” Mike says. “It’s more inspirational than my Dendromecon.”
“What?” Is all Harvey can think to say.
Mike blushes. “I read a book on flowers once when I was a kid. It kind of stuck. Um… everything I read kind of does.”
Harvey is still staring at him blankly, and he tries to stop himself, but he just can’t. “What?”
Mike is really red by now. “Nevermind,” he says, and he rushes off to his work station.
It turns out Harvey can find inspiration from a weed-flower. His frilly white skirt and yellow top place him firmly in the safe spot.
Some guy whose name Harvey never learned goes home. He cries a little bit when he comes to the room backstage and everyone pats him on the back, but they never really got to know him so no one is really that upset. Harvey doesn’t even really make it off the couch to say goodbye.
Mike is in the top three. And Harvey realizes that maybe clothes don’t say quite everything about a person, because his poppy-inspired dress is stunning.
Now if he could only dress himself as well. Oh, the possibilities.
“What’s your sob story, kid?” One of the camera guys asks Mike.
They are now a few challenges in to the show and everyone is relatively comfortable with each other. Apparently its now the time they starts sharing their bittersweet back stories.
The cameraman leans in close and the camera on his shoulder almost falls onto Mike. Harvey watches from his workstation. He briefly entertains the thought that maybe he should swoop in and save the kid.
“I… I don’t think that I have one,” Mike replies as calmly as he can, though his stance suggests he is ready to bolt.
“Come on, everyone here has one.”
Not necessarily true, thinks Harvey. He, for instance, worked in a mailroom before coming here, and while not the most glamorous job in the world, Harvey thinks of it more as a success story than anything.
“I’m not sure if I feel comfortable telling it quite yet.” Harvey perks up at that. So there is something.
Suddenly, Harvey really wants to know. Wonders why Mike hasn’t told him. They’ve gotten pretty close these past few challenges, and Harvey would probably call the kid a friend if he did mundane things like have friends.
“Alright, kid,” the camera guy says, and Harvey thinks that he should really stop calling Mike a kid, because can’t he see that the kid doesn’t like it? “But we’ll come back to you. You’re lucky that you’re probably gonna last a few more challenges.”
And that’s the truth if Harvey ever heard it. Mike is really very good, good enough that Harvey would probably feel threatened if he didn’t know that Mike wasn’t capable of hurting a fly and therefore definitely not finale three material. You had to be cutthroat in order to make it big in this business.
Mike was probably going home in one of the next challenges.
Harvey winced as he pricked himself on the needle he was using to hand-sew a hem. Now why did that thought make him feel… empty?
They are the only two people left in the sewing room at the end of the day. Harvey is sitting a few rows behind Mike, and he can see the blue chiffon blouse that Mike is working on for the avant-garde challenge. It has ruffles down the side. It looks nice.
Harvey frowns at his own denim dress. It doesn’t look bad, per se, but so far he’s not done well during the avant-garde challenges. He needs to break out of his comfort zone.
In more ways than one, Harvey thinks. He shakes away the traitorous thought and looks back at Mike.
“So, kid,” he starts, unsure about what he is going to say. “You’ve got anyone waiting for you back home?”
Mike jumps on it, still all too willing to answer any question thrown his way, and glances back with a smile. He returns to his work in a moment but starts to speak this time.
“My grandma is in a nursing home. I can’t wait to get back and see her.” He laughs. “She has trouble with the video cams that they let us use, so my friends have been helping her. They’re great.” He sighs heavily. “I never thought I’d miss them this much. But I guess everyone’s feeling that way now.”
Harvey isn’t feeling that way. His family doesn’t speak to him anymore, not since he failed to get a job and was demoted to working in a mail room. Scotty, his ex, was in the UK now, and she never called anymore. The only person he has waiting for him is Donna, and she’s… well, she’s Donna. They get along fine without each other.
Harvey pauses to step back and look at his garment. He looks up at Mike’s back, at the thin body but strong shoulders, at the hair that is ruffled in the back like he never actually combs it.
Maybe he’ll call Donna when they’re done here. Suddenly, he finds himself very much in need of her wise words of Donna-ism.
Harvey loves the runway. He loves seeing his finished product up there, seeing it compared to the other contestants’ work. He hasn’t fallen apart on it yet.
He hasn’t been in the bottom yet.
But now as he sees his high-waisted denim dress with green accents coming down the runway he has a flicker of doubt. It still doesn’t look bad, but it just looks good. That’s it.
He doesn’t want to be safe this week. But he doesn’t want to be in the bottom either.
He feels his palms begin to sweat, and rubs them on the pant leg of his suit. In any other situation he would be disgusted with himself, but right now he’s too nervous.
Suddenly he feels a pressure on his hand and looks down to see another, paler, smaller hand covering his. He turns and finds Mike smiling at him.
“Your dress looks great,” he says. Then he grins cheekily. “I’d wear it.”
“You’d look terrible in drag,” Harvey finds himself replying, mainly on autopilot.
But his hands are dry now and his heart is racing for an entirely different reason.
Mike is safe. Harvey is in the top. Louis Litt wins.
Harvey curses his luck-the judges liked his design but he had used the wrong color for the accents. Louis’s drab red pencil skirt and black blouse had been “innovational enough”.
Louis of course only latched onto the first word, and then had latched on to Harvey to brag about it once they were backstage.
Gregory had gone home. It wasn’t Louis, but Harvey was glad to see him go. Gregory had spent the past few challenges glaring at Mike.
Part 2