Never Let Me Go, Harvey/Mike, Suits [1/8]
Title: Never Let Me
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
Rating: PG-13
Notes: AU. All quotes are from I Knew You So Well by Cindy. Summary is from the movie Never Let Me Go.
Further notes: this song
I knew your friendship
Because you were always there
When I needed your comfort.
Cindy
Harvey’s first impression of Mike had not been a favourable one; his thoughts flitted between ‘stoner’, ‘waster’ and ‘boring’. Marian had gone on and on about the man-child so much that Harvey couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
“He’s going to be fantastic one day,” she’d told him in bed late one night, with such awe that Harvey had been a little jealous.
But meeting the kid? No. He’s not jealous at all because, really? Mike Ross, although attractive in a charmingly boyish way, was nothing compared to Harvey Specter. He was the antithesis of Harvey Specter.
Perhaps that’s why they get on so well.
At the time, though, Harvey had been smug as he’d sat across the table from him, sipping on his wine while Mike chugged from a bottle of beer (and yes, Harvey’d made the barb about Mike being old enough to drink). Harvey’s only just starting to put together the Harvey Specter veneer after fucking around for a while in the Associates pool before he’d gone to Jessica and all but promised her his unborn children as sacrifice, if she would get him out of there. He’s found a tailor, who he can’t really afford right now; he’s found an apartment he’s almost willing to sell a kidney for; he’s got the girl, who’s got a ring on her finger. He’s pretty much got it all and anything he’s not already got, he’s in the process of getting. And Mike is... Well. Mike is.
“So what do you do, Mike?” Harvey asked, and Marian had elbowed him in the ribs at his tone. He turned to her, smiling, and she’d rolled her eyes but ultimately let him away with it.
“I’m doing my PhD.”
Harvey shifts his mental list around a little, adding ‘intelligent’ to it. Marian had said he was a genius but Harvey’s known her long enough to know she’s easily impressed and her words hadn’t really... stuck.
“Really. On what?”
Mike frowned across at him, though Harvey could see the a hint of a smile tickling the edges of his lips. It’s a curious expression, one that Harvey has come to realise in the years since that he rather enjoys.
“Language and rhetoric in the US legal system.”
‘Intelligent’ bumps up the list.
“Interesting.”
Mike smirked and nodded, his slightly too long hair falling across his face. The man beside him (clearly a date, how Harvey had missed that he’ll never know) reached out and tucked it back behind the ear it came loose from and Harvey heard Marian sigh beside him. He turned to her curiously, but she’d been staring at Mike and... Nial? Possibly Nial, maybe Daniel (Harvey hadn’t been paying attention).
“I think so.”
--
The second time Harvey met Mike had been a surprise. An accident? Harvey had been walking into Madison Square Gardens with a client (the perks of being Jessica Pearson’s latest project, granted his first opportunity to schmooze a client before he’s even made partner and he’ll admit that he had been a little nervous) when he’d been accosted by a young gentleman (that’s the language he’s using because he’s not sure what language he would use to describe the way Mike had practically wrestled him into a handshake/hug type situation).
“Harvey, right?”
Bewildered, Harvey had managed a nod and a quick glance to his client to see him looking surprised and perhaps a little concerned.
“Mike, yeah.” He managed to pull himself from the strange handholding and gestured towards the other man, “this is Addison Dickens.”
Harvey watched, aghast, as Mike pulled Addison into a handshake, which the other man had no opportunity not to return.
“You own Bricolage, right? Well done, man, I heard you guys were expanding overseas.”
Addison had turned to look at Harvey then, just as Harvey had been looking at Mike in utter astonishment, the words on the list in his head ping ponging around until ‘surprising’ made it’s way to the top.
“One of your colleagues?”
“No,” Harvey murmured, shaking himself. “He works with my fiancee-”
“No, I don’t. She’s my PhD supervisor. What a woman. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’ve got like a forty mile bike ride to my side of the city so it was nice seeing you again Harvey. Tell Marian I’ll see her next week when she’s feeling better.” Harvey nodded dumbly, feeling like he’d been caught in the middle of a whirlwind. “Addison Dickens, a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for letting me talk at you. Bye.”
And then Mike was gone. Both men stared after him for a goo few seconds before Addison turned to him, his eyebrows somewhere near his hairline.
“What just happened?”
Harvey let out a small laugh and shrugged, ushering Addison towards the doors.
“I have no idea.”
--
The third time they meet, it had (thankfully) been a little more sedate. At another one of Marian’s dinners that Harvey had been forced to attend, Mike was there with Nial (for definite this time) and he’d had a hair cut. He looks older with it like that and when he queried it, Marian told him that Mike is “actually twenty four, not sixteen” like Harvey had (in the privacy of their own home) joked.
Somehow they’d both ended up on the balcony, drinks in hand. Mike was looking out over the city, the sun setting somewhere to the left of them turning the westward windows to mirrors that reflect the city back at itself.
“Scary, isn’t it?”
Harvey jumped slightly at Mike’s voice, not realising Mike had heard his entrance (exit, perhaps, from the stuffy apartment behind them). He tilted his head, resting his shoulder against the wall, still behind Mike.
“What?” Mike jerked his head to the view in front of them, to the city sprawling beneath them, dwarfing them from above. Harvey pushed off from the wall, coming to stand beside him at the railing. He mirrored Mike’s pose, his head tilted to the left slightly so he could see Mike from the corner of his eye. “Not really.”
Mike turned his head then, and Harvey couldn’t stop the smile that grabbed the edges of his lips.
“You don’t feel the magnitude of it, of knowing that you’re only one of millions and millions of people?”
Harvey smirked, shaking his head, lowering it between his arms, tilting back onto his feels as he stretched his back.
“No. But then, I’m not predisposed to the existentialist crap you artsy people get smothered with.”
Mike laughed then, the sound soft and low and warm.
“I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“Of the artsy people who get smothered in existentialist crap.”
Harvey snorts.
“No?”
“No.”
Harvey wanted to ask what he was, then. What he meant by that but he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded in a non-derisive manner and murmured a quiet, “Okay.”
It seemed to be enough for Mike, who straightened, downed the rest of his beer and turned to head back inside. From the doorway he called Harvey’s name.
“Thank you.”
Harvey wanted to ask ‘for what?’ but when he turned back to the city, darkness descending from above, he realised he didn’t need to.
--
PART TWO