love consists in this
Title: love consists in this
Fandom: Suits
Ship: Harvey/Mike
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own.
Summary: When clients see Harvey's wedding ring, they pass on their compliments to Harvey's wife, not realising that Harvey's husband is sitting three feet away. This bothers Harvey.
Authors Notes: Written for this prompt at the suits-meme. So apparently my thing is secretly!married!Harvey/Mike. Who knew. LOL. This turned out slightly darker in tone than I anticipated - but fear not, there is still fluff to be had. In my mind this takes place two months after Exclusively Yours but it can also be read as a stand-alone fic. Enjoy.
love consists in this
Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other - Rainer Maria Rilke
Mike is worried.
He looks over to Harvey, who is very studiously not looking at him, keeping his gaze fixed on the bright lights outside their car as Ray drives them through the city streets. Something has clearly been bothering Harvey for a while now (and when Mike says clearly of course what he means is no one but himself has picked up on it). Mike mentally goes over their day, and the one before that and the one before that, going back over the previous days and weeks, trying to pinpoint the start of this very subtle downward spiral. Nothing immediately comes to mind: their cases have been going well, the client they took to dinner was successfully wooed (despite Harvey's slight standoffishness) and no one has discovered their secrets (of which there are now many). But Harvey has been shorter in his temper, quick to brush off clients and end meetings and dinners as soon as he is able to without appearing overtly rude.
They arrive at their building and Harvey gets out of the car and starts walking away without even saying goodbye to Ray. Mike and Ray share concerned looks but Ray says nothing, just bids Mike goodnight. Mike hustles to catch up to Harvey, who is striding forward with a determined step he hasn’t seen in a long time.
They ride up the elevator in silence. Harvey continues to avoid his gaze, his face set hard, like he is concentrating so hard on internalising whatever is going on that he can't bear to move a muscle, lest it escape without his consent. Mike reaches over and slides his fingers around Harvey's wrist. Harvey doesn't shrug him off (Mike can't help his exhale of relief) but nor does he look at Mike, smile or relax in any visible way.
Harvey strides into their apartment. He leaves his briefcase on the floor by the door, sheds his jacket and throws it on the back of the couch, undoes his tie and leaves it on the kitchen counter before taking a bottle of water from the fridge. He unbuttons his shirt as he moves to their bedroom.
Something is definitely wrong.
Mike stands in stunned silence in the middle of their condo. He has seen Harvey angry before, but even then there was always something restrained and controlled about his rage. And it's such a small thing, but to see Harvey treat his suit with such little respect sounds warning bells in Mike's mind.
But he needs to give them both a minute first, so goes to the kitchen and has a quick drink. He then picks up all of Harvey's scattered objects and carefully folds them over his arm before heading to their bedroom.
He hesitates in the doorframe, leaning against the solid wood and taking in the sight before him. Harvey is sitting on the edge of their bed. He has shed his crisp white shirt (left it in a heap on the floor) and his shoes and socks, leaving him in a plain white undershirt, thousand dollar pants and bare feet. It's such a contradiction, one that only Harvey could make work, and there is something about it that is horribly endearing.
"Okay, Harvey, what's wrong?"
Harvey looks up from where he is slowly tearing the label off his bottle of Evian. "What are you talking about?"
Mike lifts his arms slightly, indicating Harvey's suit jacket and tie. "You would never treat your suit like this if you were in your right mind. Add to that the fact you spoke the bare minimum requirement of words at dinner and haven’t spoken the whole ride home and didn’t even say goodnight to Ray, I'm thinking something is up."
Harvey moves his attention back to his water. Mike, knowing Harvey will speak when he is ready, moves into the room and picks up Harvey's shirt and shoes from the floor and puts everything away in their walk-in. While he is there he sheds his own jacket, tie and shoes, pulling the shirt from his pants and rolling his shirt sleeves slightly. He returns to the bedroom and sits beside Harvey, waiting.
"Doesn't it ever bother you?" Harvey finally asks.
"Doesn't what ever bother me?" Mike returns, genuinely confused.
"All the comments from the clients . 'How's the wife?' 'Give my regards to the missus'. Like you aren't just sitting two feet away from them when they say it."
Mike smiles indulgently at him. "Well, it's not like they don't make the obvious assumption, Harvey. Why would they ever assume that we were married when we don't tell them?"
"But how can they not see it? You are sitting right next to me with the same fucking ring on your finger and still they don't get it."
"Harvey, it's not personal. I don't get offended by it. It's a logical conclusion for them to draw. And unless we tell them how are they ever going to know otherwise?"
"But you don't want to tell them, do you?"
Mike shifts uncomfortably. "Not particularly."
"Why?" Harvey demands, and there is something desperate in his voice that Mike has never heard before. "Are you ashamed of me or something."
Mike can't help the laugh that escapes his throat (his knee-jerk reaction to hearing something so ridiculous). But seeing Harvey's stricken look, he stifles it as soon as humanly possible. "Of course not," he says quickly, placing a hand on his thigh. "Harvey, look at you. I think anyone would agree I traded waaay up. Of course I'm not ashamed of you. Or of us."
"So why the big secret? You know I'm okay with telling people but it's always been you who has wanted to keep us secret. And I respect your wishes and have never said a word. But I've never understood why."
Mike sighs, deep and full. He avoids Harvey's intense gaze and a part of him can't help but note their quick role reversal. How easily they went from him prodding for Harvey's secrets to Harvey demanding to know his. But that's just how they are. They push and pull, give and take. It's one of his favourite things about them, their rhythm, which is so easy and so intrinsically theirs.
"Because I don't want anyone to use me against you," Mike finally whispers.
Harvey's entire persona changes in an instant. He drops the water bottle onto the floor and turns his body to Mike's, surprise and concern clear on his face. Of all the answers he ever imagined hearing that was not even on the list. "What?"
"You heard me."
"I heard you. I just can't quite believe you. What are you talking about?"
"Think about it, Harvey. I'm ten years younger than you. I was your associate and you were my boss when we started dating. I'm a man. Any one of those things could be held against you in a way neither of us can anticipate. I refuse to give anyone a chance to bring us down, even if that means keeping us a secret."
Mike exhales, elbows to knees and resting his head in his hands, physically exhausted from his confession. He knows that Harvey is a grown man and doesn’t need his protection. But Harvey is also his, and he will go to the ends of the Earth to protect what's his. This relationship, this man, is the one good thing he has in his life, and he cannot bear for someone (whether inside or outside the firm) to use something that is genuine and pure and twist it into something cruel and shameful. And he has seen enough of the way their world works to have no doubt that there are people out there who would use this information to distract or discredit Harvey. And Harvey has already risked so much for him, from the second they met and he offered him a new job and a new life, and he refuses to be the source of any (more) risk to Harvey's career.
He can feel the soft pressure of Harvey's hand on the back of his neck, moving back and forth in soothing motions. He sits up, finally meeting Harvey's eyes, and Harvey's gaze is level before moving in and pressing his lips to Mike's.
They kiss slowly, reassuringly. It reminds Mike of their first kiss, two years prior and in completely different circumstances, but the feeling of being complete and home are exactly the same. He never wants to lose that feeling. When they break apart, Harvey's forehead is pressed to Mike's temple, breath warm against his cheek when he says in a whisper, "I really love you."
Mike smiles. The words are rare, implied more often than spoken (a relic from his old I don't believe in emotions life), but every time he hears them his heart skips a beat. "I love you, too."
"But you're an idiot," Harvey continues, and Mike can't help but pull back slightly, out of his warm embrace. He knows Harvey too well to think he has meant any offence, but he still can't help the slight sting in the words. But then Harvey reaches over and places a hand to his cheek, thumb ghosting over the arch of his cheek, and the sting lessens slightly.
"You don't think I had thought of that already? I'm the best damn closer in the city, which means I need to have every angle covered. Of course it occurred to me that our relationship could compromise my job. But guess what. I don’t fucking care. I made a commitment to you, and that commitment trumps all, including any I have to Jessica or Pearson Hardman or anyone else. This is it. You and me."
"Sola tua est cor meum."
Harvey laughs lightly. "Exactly."
Mike can think of nothing better to say or do than to kiss Harvey. So he does. His hands steal under the cotton of Harvey's shirt, fingertips firm on his waist.
"So, tell me," Harvey says, breaking the kiss, "do you still want to keep it a secret?"
Honestly, part of Mike still does. His concerns, while admittedly slightly lessened now that they've been voiced, are still there and they are still viable fears. But Harvey is looking at him, his face open and free in a way Mike never sees outside these four walls, and he thinks that if love means not just gazing at each other but in looking together in the same direction, then he wants to move forward with this man with eyes wide open.
"Who do we tell first?" he answers with a smile.
The grin that breaks over Harvey's face is a thing of beauty. "Well, Jessica and Donna are the only ones who know. You tell Rachel and I'll tell Louis and within 24 hours the whole firm will know."
"And the clients?"
"We don't have to volunteer the information to everyone who walks in the door. But anyone who asks will be told the truth. And anyone who makes erroneous assumptions will be corrected immediately."
"And if they don't like it?" Mike asks, because there will be real world consequences, and going with the eyes wide open theory, he wants to make sure Harvey has thought this through.
"If they don't like it then fuck 'em. We can remind them that we are a legally recognised couple and if they have any moral issues they can take it to Jessica. Who will probably remind them that our firm, despite only hiring from Harvard, has one of the most diverse employee bases in the city, which is part of the reason why we are so successful. It won't be an issue. Trust me."
And Mike does. Above all else, he trusts Harvey. Because Harvey has been the one person who didn’t abuse that trust, who didn’t tease or taunt or betray. From the first day they met, they both put an incredible amount of trust in each other, more than was probably recommended to hand over to a perfect stranger, but it hasn’t led them astray so far.
"Okay. One final question though," Mike asks, shifting closer.
Harvey quirks an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"This whole telling people thing? Does it have to happen right now? Because I can think of one or two things I would really rather be doing at this moment in time."
And to illustrate his point, his hands begin unbuttoning his shirt. Harvey licks his lips in an unconscious move that has always enthralled Mike, and when all the buttons are undone he helps remove the shirt from Mike's shoulders.
"It can definitely wait until tom-"
Mike's lips cut him off mid word as he pushes them back onto the crisp white sheets of their bed.
Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction - Antoine de Saint-Exupery
[Next: A Series of Small Things]
Fandom: Suits
Ship: Harvey/Mike
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own.
Summary: When clients see Harvey's wedding ring, they pass on their compliments to Harvey's wife, not realising that Harvey's husband is sitting three feet away. This bothers Harvey.
Authors Notes: Written for this prompt at the suits-meme. So apparently my thing is secretly!married!Harvey/Mike. Who knew. LOL. This turned out slightly darker in tone than I anticipated - but fear not, there is still fluff to be had. In my mind this takes place two months after Exclusively Yours but it can also be read as a stand-alone fic. Enjoy.
love consists in this
Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other - Rainer Maria Rilke
Mike is worried.
He looks over to Harvey, who is very studiously not looking at him, keeping his gaze fixed on the bright lights outside their car as Ray drives them through the city streets. Something has clearly been bothering Harvey for a while now (and when Mike says clearly of course what he means is no one but himself has picked up on it). Mike mentally goes over their day, and the one before that and the one before that, going back over the previous days and weeks, trying to pinpoint the start of this very subtle downward spiral. Nothing immediately comes to mind: their cases have been going well, the client they took to dinner was successfully wooed (despite Harvey's slight standoffishness) and no one has discovered their secrets (of which there are now many). But Harvey has been shorter in his temper, quick to brush off clients and end meetings and dinners as soon as he is able to without appearing overtly rude.
They arrive at their building and Harvey gets out of the car and starts walking away without even saying goodbye to Ray. Mike and Ray share concerned looks but Ray says nothing, just bids Mike goodnight. Mike hustles to catch up to Harvey, who is striding forward with a determined step he hasn’t seen in a long time.
They ride up the elevator in silence. Harvey continues to avoid his gaze, his face set hard, like he is concentrating so hard on internalising whatever is going on that he can't bear to move a muscle, lest it escape without his consent. Mike reaches over and slides his fingers around Harvey's wrist. Harvey doesn't shrug him off (Mike can't help his exhale of relief) but nor does he look at Mike, smile or relax in any visible way.
Harvey strides into their apartment. He leaves his briefcase on the floor by the door, sheds his jacket and throws it on the back of the couch, undoes his tie and leaves it on the kitchen counter before taking a bottle of water from the fridge. He unbuttons his shirt as he moves to their bedroom.
Something is definitely wrong.
Mike stands in stunned silence in the middle of their condo. He has seen Harvey angry before, but even then there was always something restrained and controlled about his rage. And it's such a small thing, but to see Harvey treat his suit with such little respect sounds warning bells in Mike's mind.
But he needs to give them both a minute first, so goes to the kitchen and has a quick drink. He then picks up all of Harvey's scattered objects and carefully folds them over his arm before heading to their bedroom.
He hesitates in the doorframe, leaning against the solid wood and taking in the sight before him. Harvey is sitting on the edge of their bed. He has shed his crisp white shirt (left it in a heap on the floor) and his shoes and socks, leaving him in a plain white undershirt, thousand dollar pants and bare feet. It's such a contradiction, one that only Harvey could make work, and there is something about it that is horribly endearing.
"Okay, Harvey, what's wrong?"
Harvey looks up from where he is slowly tearing the label off his bottle of Evian. "What are you talking about?"
Mike lifts his arms slightly, indicating Harvey's suit jacket and tie. "You would never treat your suit like this if you were in your right mind. Add to that the fact you spoke the bare minimum requirement of words at dinner and haven’t spoken the whole ride home and didn’t even say goodnight to Ray, I'm thinking something is up."
Harvey moves his attention back to his water. Mike, knowing Harvey will speak when he is ready, moves into the room and picks up Harvey's shirt and shoes from the floor and puts everything away in their walk-in. While he is there he sheds his own jacket, tie and shoes, pulling the shirt from his pants and rolling his shirt sleeves slightly. He returns to the bedroom and sits beside Harvey, waiting.
"Doesn't it ever bother you?" Harvey finally asks.
"Doesn't what ever bother me?" Mike returns, genuinely confused.
"All the comments from the clients . 'How's the wife?' 'Give my regards to the missus'. Like you aren't just sitting two feet away from them when they say it."
Mike smiles indulgently at him. "Well, it's not like they don't make the obvious assumption, Harvey. Why would they ever assume that we were married when we don't tell them?"
"But how can they not see it? You are sitting right next to me with the same fucking ring on your finger and still they don't get it."
"Harvey, it's not personal. I don't get offended by it. It's a logical conclusion for them to draw. And unless we tell them how are they ever going to know otherwise?"
"But you don't want to tell them, do you?"
Mike shifts uncomfortably. "Not particularly."
"Why?" Harvey demands, and there is something desperate in his voice that Mike has never heard before. "Are you ashamed of me or something."
Mike can't help the laugh that escapes his throat (his knee-jerk reaction to hearing something so ridiculous). But seeing Harvey's stricken look, he stifles it as soon as humanly possible. "Of course not," he says quickly, placing a hand on his thigh. "Harvey, look at you. I think anyone would agree I traded waaay up. Of course I'm not ashamed of you. Or of us."
"So why the big secret? You know I'm okay with telling people but it's always been you who has wanted to keep us secret. And I respect your wishes and have never said a word. But I've never understood why."
Mike sighs, deep and full. He avoids Harvey's intense gaze and a part of him can't help but note their quick role reversal. How easily they went from him prodding for Harvey's secrets to Harvey demanding to know his. But that's just how they are. They push and pull, give and take. It's one of his favourite things about them, their rhythm, which is so easy and so intrinsically theirs.
"Because I don't want anyone to use me against you," Mike finally whispers.
Harvey's entire persona changes in an instant. He drops the water bottle onto the floor and turns his body to Mike's, surprise and concern clear on his face. Of all the answers he ever imagined hearing that was not even on the list. "What?"
"You heard me."
"I heard you. I just can't quite believe you. What are you talking about?"
"Think about it, Harvey. I'm ten years younger than you. I was your associate and you were my boss when we started dating. I'm a man. Any one of those things could be held against you in a way neither of us can anticipate. I refuse to give anyone a chance to bring us down, even if that means keeping us a secret."
Mike exhales, elbows to knees and resting his head in his hands, physically exhausted from his confession. He knows that Harvey is a grown man and doesn’t need his protection. But Harvey is also his, and he will go to the ends of the Earth to protect what's his. This relationship, this man, is the one good thing he has in his life, and he cannot bear for someone (whether inside or outside the firm) to use something that is genuine and pure and twist it into something cruel and shameful. And he has seen enough of the way their world works to have no doubt that there are people out there who would use this information to distract or discredit Harvey. And Harvey has already risked so much for him, from the second they met and he offered him a new job and a new life, and he refuses to be the source of any (more) risk to Harvey's career.
He can feel the soft pressure of Harvey's hand on the back of his neck, moving back and forth in soothing motions. He sits up, finally meeting Harvey's eyes, and Harvey's gaze is level before moving in and pressing his lips to Mike's.
They kiss slowly, reassuringly. It reminds Mike of their first kiss, two years prior and in completely different circumstances, but the feeling of being complete and home are exactly the same. He never wants to lose that feeling. When they break apart, Harvey's forehead is pressed to Mike's temple, breath warm against his cheek when he says in a whisper, "I really love you."
Mike smiles. The words are rare, implied more often than spoken (a relic from his old I don't believe in emotions life), but every time he hears them his heart skips a beat. "I love you, too."
"But you're an idiot," Harvey continues, and Mike can't help but pull back slightly, out of his warm embrace. He knows Harvey too well to think he has meant any offence, but he still can't help the slight sting in the words. But then Harvey reaches over and places a hand to his cheek, thumb ghosting over the arch of his cheek, and the sting lessens slightly.
"You don't think I had thought of that already? I'm the best damn closer in the city, which means I need to have every angle covered. Of course it occurred to me that our relationship could compromise my job. But guess what. I don’t fucking care. I made a commitment to you, and that commitment trumps all, including any I have to Jessica or Pearson Hardman or anyone else. This is it. You and me."
"Sola tua est cor meum."
Harvey laughs lightly. "Exactly."
Mike can think of nothing better to say or do than to kiss Harvey. So he does. His hands steal under the cotton of Harvey's shirt, fingertips firm on his waist.
"So, tell me," Harvey says, breaking the kiss, "do you still want to keep it a secret?"
Honestly, part of Mike still does. His concerns, while admittedly slightly lessened now that they've been voiced, are still there and they are still viable fears. But Harvey is looking at him, his face open and free in a way Mike never sees outside these four walls, and he thinks that if love means not just gazing at each other but in looking together in the same direction, then he wants to move forward with this man with eyes wide open.
"Who do we tell first?" he answers with a smile.
The grin that breaks over Harvey's face is a thing of beauty. "Well, Jessica and Donna are the only ones who know. You tell Rachel and I'll tell Louis and within 24 hours the whole firm will know."
"And the clients?"
"We don't have to volunteer the information to everyone who walks in the door. But anyone who asks will be told the truth. And anyone who makes erroneous assumptions will be corrected immediately."
"And if they don't like it?" Mike asks, because there will be real world consequences, and going with the eyes wide open theory, he wants to make sure Harvey has thought this through.
"If they don't like it then fuck 'em. We can remind them that we are a legally recognised couple and if they have any moral issues they can take it to Jessica. Who will probably remind them that our firm, despite only hiring from Harvard, has one of the most diverse employee bases in the city, which is part of the reason why we are so successful. It won't be an issue. Trust me."
And Mike does. Above all else, he trusts Harvey. Because Harvey has been the one person who didn’t abuse that trust, who didn’t tease or taunt or betray. From the first day they met, they both put an incredible amount of trust in each other, more than was probably recommended to hand over to a perfect stranger, but it hasn’t led them astray so far.
"Okay. One final question though," Mike asks, shifting closer.
Harvey quirks an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"This whole telling people thing? Does it have to happen right now? Because I can think of one or two things I would really rather be doing at this moment in time."
And to illustrate his point, his hands begin unbuttoning his shirt. Harvey licks his lips in an unconscious move that has always enthralled Mike, and when all the buttons are undone he helps remove the shirt from Mike's shoulders.
"It can definitely wait until tom-"
Mike's lips cut him off mid word as he pushes them back onto the crisp white sheets of their bed.
Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction - Antoine de Saint-Exupery
[Next: A Series of Small Things]