In for A Penny (5/?)
Chapter 4
It’s been a week since Mike last saw Harvey, or last spoke to him. And for the last two days he hasn’t really thought about him. Much. The first five days were hard, especially seeing other clients. Mike kept thinking about Harvey, his hands on him, his kisses, his dick in Mike’s ass. But he managed to swallow those thoughts down. With Kyle’s help surprisingly. Kyle told him about the night he was with Harvey, told him that Harvey seemed fine, not distracted at all, and if Harvey was fine then Mike could be fine. It also helped that Kyle had then sunk to his knees and proceeded to take Mike’s mind off everything by sucking his brain out through his dick.
“Hey Mikey…you got a minute?” Trevor’s head appears in Mike’s doorway. Mike’s halfway through organising his stuff, a week of keeping busy has left his room a mess and he feels uncomfortable whenever he looks at it, “feel like doing me a favour?” Mike squints at Trevor as he comes into Mike’s room and lowers himself onto the end of the bed. Mike picks up a pair of jeans and folds them neatly.
“If it’s sucking your dick then no…” he says and Trevor laughs. Mike puts his jeans into his closet and reaches for a t-shirt on his bed, giving it a cursory sniff before screwing up his face, it smells of Harvey, and throwing it in the direction of the dirty laundry pile, “or dealing for you,” Mike says as Trevor goes to speak, “again no.”
“Come on kid,” Trevor starts, rising to his feet and Mike balls a t-shirt in his fists.
“You know, I really wish people would stop fucking calling me kid,” he snaps and Trevor is suddenly standing in front of him, looking down at Mike with a calculating, if slightly concerned expression on his face.
“What’s going on?” he asks and Mike steps out of his reach and folds the t-shirt in his hands.
“Nothing, just tired of people treating me like a child, like I’m something that needs to be fixed,” he says and Trevor’s hand curls around his wrist. He tugs gently, and Mike, because it’s Trevor, lets him tug him closer.
“I never treated you like a kid,” Trevor says, in the tone he uses whenever he wants Mike to do something, the tone he uses whenever he thinks seducing Mike will work rather than just asking as a friend. Mike sighs and Trevor lifts his chin. “I wouldn’t do this to a kid,” he says before leaning down and kissing Mike.
It’s been a while, but Mike remembers, of course he does. He remembers the way he felt when Trevor first kissed him, aged sixteen and horny, high as a kite, and Mike had thought that had been it for him. Then Trevor had gotten into dealing drugs, and Mike had gotten into dealing himself, and they had drifted, but kept together out of some misplaced loyalty that neither of them felt anymore.
Trevor slides his hand back into Mike’s hair, grips the short ones at the back of Mike’s neck and Mike can’t help but groan into his mouth.
“God Mike,” Trevor mutters, his lips wet against Mike’s jaw, “I’d forgotten what it was like to kiss you,” his lips slide back up to Mike’s mouth.
“I hadn’t,” Mike answers and Trevor chuckles lightly.
“I didn’t think you would,” he replies, covering Mike’s mouth again. It would be so easy to fall back into Trevor’s arms, to let him push Mike down onto the bed. It would be so easy to forget everything that’s happened between them. Trevor’s fingers slide down his jaw.
“What do you want Trevor?” Mike asks, pulling away as Trevor runs one hand down Mike’s back and pulls his hips closer.
“I need you to do a drop for me,” Trevor mutters against his neck. Mike shakes his head, manages to get his hands between them and pushes Trevor away.
“I told you no. I won’t do that for you,” Mike says and Trevor’s face darkens.
“So you’ll sleep with people for money for me but you won’t do a drop for me?” He demands and Mike crosses his arms over his chest and takes a step backwards.
“You’re not endearing me to the situation right now Trev,” he says and Trevor sighs, the anger in him dissipating. Trevor’s always been quick to anger, a fiery temper lurks under his often cool façade and Mike’s been at the tail end of it more than once, and Mike absently rubs at his jaw as if remembering the time Trevor punched him.
“Look Mike, come on, I really need your help now,” Trevor says, reaching out and rubbing his hands up and down Mike’s arms, like he’s trying to soothe. Mike shrugs out of his grasp.
“No,” Trevor scowls. When Mike first met Trevor he thought he was the most gorgeous person in the world, apart from Jenny, but Trevor has an ugly side, a side that appears when he’s angry, a side that makes Mike almost wish he’d never laid eyes on him at all.
“Do you want me to throw you out?” Trevor asks, his voice getting the low quality it takes on when he’s furious and trying to control it. Mike takes another step away but scoffs.
“Trevor, you know it wouldn’t be the end of my life, my clients come to you because me, if I left, they would leave,” he says and Trevor’s eyes narrow. He runs a hand through his hair and turns his back, takes a deep breath and when he turns around again, the old Trevor is back, the kind one, the one who swept Mike off his feet all those years ago, the one with soft eyes and an easy smile.
“So you won’t help me?” he asks and Mike nearly gives in, nearly buckles and helps him but he’s been there before, helped Trevor out when no one else would and he promised himself he wouldn’t do that again. Especially not after the last time when Trevor had to promise Mike to the heavies to get them both out of the sticky situation.
“No. I said never again the last time, and I meant it. Find someone else,” Mike turns away from him and he hears Trevor storm out.
Mike sighs heavily, pinches the bridge of his nose and sits down on his bed. He cradles his head in his hands. His fingers itch to call Harvey, to talk to him, to let Harvey fuck him. He shakes his head. Mike’s never really had someone to talk to before. Sure there’s Jenny but she’s usually so blinded by her feelings for Trevor she’s biased and will somehow bring Mike over to Trevor’s side using soft words and gentle hands. There was Grammy, but she’s gone now and Mike feels the ever present crippling sense of loss when he thinks about her. He swallows that down. Harvey had been easy, something about him had made Mike feel comfortable enough to open up, not that he had, but he felt he could. He doesn’t know how they work anymore, him and Harvey, but he suddenly misses his solid presence and his firm hands.
“Mike?” Mike looks up at Jenny hovering in his doorway.
“Hey,” he always has a smile for Jenny, and she smiles back as she sits down next to him and takes one of his hands.
“You heard?” he asks and she nods, curling their fingers together. Mike nudges his knee against hers and she looks up at him with a little girl lost expression.
“Would you really leave?” she asks and Mike reaches out, tucks her hair behind her ear.
“Jen, I’m better than this,” he says, “You’re better than this,” she does her usual shrug like she doesn’t believe him whenever he says something nice and Mike lifts his hand again and cups her face, thumb sliding over her cheek, “don’t you ever think its time to grow up? Stop being Trevor and Jenny and Mike?” She leans into his touch.
“I like being Trevor and Jenny and Mike,” she smiles sadly and stands, shoves her hands into her pockets. “He’s going to get into trouble, Mike,” she says helplessly and Mike stands, curls his fingers around her arms.
“I know, but Jenny I’m not letting myself get dragged down by him, you shouldn’t either,” she looks pleadingly at him and he can’t do this, not now, he can’t look at her and be swayed by her pretty face, or her soft pleading words. He suddenly realises what Harvey meant by he’s an anchor, he’s holding Jenny back, grounding her in the worst way and Mike can’t sit back and watch it happen anymore. “Look I’ve…gotta go, but,” he kisses her forehead, “don’t let him take his anger at me out on you,” she smiles slightly, strokes his cheek.
“Love you Mike,” she says, punching him gently in the shoulder. He smiles down at her, wishes things could be different for her.
“Love you too,” he grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He looks back and gives Jenny one last smile before he leaves.
…
Mike’s confused. Tom hasn’t called, which in itself is weird, Tom likes to get high at least once a week and fuck Mike into a mattress, but add that to the fact that no one else has called and Mike is starting to think that something is going on.
Thing is, that Mike relies on clients, not just for money, but for his eternal need to satisfy people. If he isn’t working then he spends most of the time trying to ignore the burning need to get high and do nothing, like him and Trevor used to do all those years back. But Mike isn’t like that anymore. He’s not that person, he’s grown.
He laughs bitterly to himself, swirling whiskey around his glass as he ignores the sideways glance from the guy sitting next to him at the bar. He should have gone to a different bar, but he needed comfort and familiarity. And the barman knows him here.
The whiskey reminds him of Harvey and he knocks it back, intending to get a beer to chase the taste of Harvey away, but another glass is placed in front of him and the barman nods in the direction of the guy sitting next to Mike.
Mike smiles sweetly, like he’s been taught, raises his glass and that gives the guy all he needs to slide over and sit in the next stool.
“You look like you needed another,” he says and Mike slides his eyes across to him, raises an eyebrow, the guy splutters, “no…I didn’t mean it like that just…”
“It’s ok,” Mike smiles and places a hand on his arm, the guy looks down at Mike’s hand and Mike squeezes gently before letting go, “I get it. And you’re right,” he says and the guy smiles.
“Gregory,” he says, holding out his hand and Mike waits a mysterious few seconds before he takes the proffered hand in his own.
“Mike,” Gregory smiles, licks at his lips. Mike wants to hustle this guy, to string him along till he’s practically begging then throw the escort card. He hasn’t done that for a while, hasn’t felt the need to but there’s something in the back of his mind screaming at him, the need to reassert himself as who he was before Harvey came into his life and turned it upside down and he licks his own lips back, uses the practiced methods of seduction that come as pretty much second nature and within half an hour Gregory is eating out of his hand.
“So Mike you want to talk about it?” Gregory asks, “whatever’s eating you?” And Mike shakes his head, presses his thigh to Gregory’s and takes a mouthful of beer, letting his lips wrap around the top of the bottle in a way that could be accidental. Gregory’s eyes darken slightly and Mike leans forward, presses his hand to Gregory’s thigh to keep himself upright as he feels the hum of alcohol in his veins.
“No…I don’t want to…talk,” he says and Gregory swallows, Mike tracks the movement with his eyes, “I need the bathroom,” Mike says pointedly, slipping off the stool and making sure to touch Gregory as he passes.
He has just enough time to splash cold water over his face before Gregory closes the bathroom door behind him and presses himself back against it. He looks slightly terrified and Mike smiles easily, takes a step towards him and runs his fingers over Gregory’s belt buckle.
“You want me to fuck you?” Mike asks gently and Gregory’s eyes go wide, “or do you want me on my knees?” Gregory swallows again, drops his head back against the door and pushes his hips forward as Mike slides his hand down his pants, cups at his half hard dick through the suit material.
There’s something almost innocent about Gregory, he’s probably closeted, and as if in answer, his wedding ring glints in the fluorescent light and Mike curses himself for not noticing it before. Mike switches character easily. Harvey Specter reads people? Harvey’s got nothing on the ways Mike can read people and what they need.
“You going to go back to your wife stinking of sex?” Gregory’s eyes fly open and Mike catches his mouth. Gregory groans, presses forward into Mike’s hand, eager and wanting and Mike decides then and there that this will be a freebee, Gregory can come to terms with having his dick sucked by a whore on his own time, decide to call Mike later on but right now Mike’s mouth is watering at the though of it and he can’t be bothered with the whole subterfuge and anger that inevitably sets in after Mike reveals what he is.
Mike slips to his knees, hands working Gregory’s button open. Mike can smell his arousal through his pants, and there’s a small damp spot on his boxers and Mike looks up at him, smiles through his lashes and Gregory runs a hand through his hair, his eyes going soft in a way that Mike sees more often than not. Mike looks back at Gregory’s crotch, pulls his hard dick out and strokes his hand once up the length. When Mike looks up at Gregory again, his eyes have gone dark and hard and Mike smiles to himself, licks at the tip and Gregory groans, pushes his hips forward, the slick tip of his dick sliding across Mike’s lips. Mike licks at it again, swirls his tongue around the head and then swallows him whole. Gregory’s hands in his hair tug hard, and Mike can feel tension in him as he holds at Gregory’s hips. He pulls off, looks up at Gregory again.
“Fuck my mouth,” he says and Gregory groans again, pushes his dick back in and Mike closes his eyes, lets Gregory fuck his mouth like he means it, like Mike needs until Gregory comes, hands twisting in Mike’s hair hard enough to hurt. Mike just takes it, pulls off with a slick pop, a string of saliva and come connecting them and Gregory groans again, slides a thumb across Mike’s lower lip, pushes it inside his mouth. Mike doesn’t swallow, lets his eyes slide closed for a second before he pulls away, stands and spits into the nearest sink.
“Thanks,” Gregory mutters, tucking himself away and Mike shrugs.
“No problem, think I needed that as much as you did,” Gregory smiles, catches Mike’s hand, tugs him closer, hands on Mike’s hips.
“Think you need more,” Gregory says, holding their hips together, “can’t let you go out there just yet,” and Mike smiles but pushes him away. He digs a card out of his pocket and presses it to Gregory’s hand.
“I’m used to it,” he says and manages to catch the shocked look on Gregory’s face before he leaves the bathroom. He sighs heavily, catches the bartenders eye, he grins and rolls his eyes and Mike shrugs, but is out of the door and hailing a cab before Gregory can follow him.
He needs more alcohol, but at least he’s chased the taste of Harvey from his mouth.
…
Harvey’s not sure what he’s expecting when he opens his door to the furious knocking at 1 in the morning, but he certainly isn’t expecting a Mike so drunk he can hardly stand, hair a complete mess, slouching on his door frame and leering like he’s only just learnt how to.
“I don’t remember calling you,” Harvey says and Mike lurches forward, stumbles on his own feet and Harvey’s reaching out to catch him before he even thinks about it. He smells of cheap beer and cigarette smoke, and sex, and Harvey tightens his grip, ignores the stab of insane jealousy and hauls him inside, slamming the door behind them. Mike pushes himself out of Harvey’s grasp, sways slightly and grins.
“No, but now that you have me here,” he slurs and takes a shaky step towards Harvey, “what are you going to do with me?”
“You’re drunk,” Harvey stats and Mike snorts, wanders off in the direction of the kitchen.
“No shit,” he calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen and Harvey finds him with his head in the fridge. He emerges with a bottle of water and downs half of it before he speaks. “Trevor’s an ass,” he says and Harvey raises an eyebrow.
“No shit,” he replies and Mike laughs.
“See that’s funny because that’s just what I said,” he hiccoughs and drinks the rest of the water and Harvey’s left watching the way his throat bobs as he swallows. He doesn’t know why Mike’s here but it’s almost too much to have Mike in front of him and not be able to touch him. Touching him right now would remind Harvey that he has to pay for it. Mike rubs at his jaw like it aches and Harvey has a sinking feeling in his stomach, “did he hurt you?”
“No…I sucked a guy’s cock in the bathroom of my local bard and he was big,” Mike laughs wryly, staring at Harvey like he’s challenging him. Harvey swallows down the stab of anger, the irrational jolt of jealousy.
“I hope you got paid for it,” he says and Mike laughs again, takes a slow drink of water.
“Nope…and I let him come in my mouth too, Harvey,” Mike’s taunting him, he knows this but Harvey can’t help the way his teeth grind together or the uncontrollable urge he has to shake some sense into Mike. Mike lets out a choked sounds that’s halfway between a sob and a laugh, then he moves, reaches out to Harvey, his hands playing over Harvey’s bare chest.
“What are you doing here Mike?” Harvey asks and Mike looks up from his hands, his eyes unfocused, pupils wide, he licks his lip.
“I could have had anyone tonight, could have got any one of those guys in the bar to fuck me, but I want you,” he says and Harvey covers Mike’s hands with his own, “I want you to fuck me.” Mike leans forward, closes his eyes and tries to kiss Harvey. Harvey doesn’t move, he can’t, he can’t let himself kiss Mike, that will be the end. Not only is Mike drunk, and he no doubt tastes like other people but Mike was the one who wanted to keep this strictly professional. Mike opens his eyes, a frown passing over his face.
“I’m not paying you,” Harvey says and Mike lets him go but doesn’t step away, Harvey can still feel his breath against his lips.
“Then I’m not staying,” Mike says and Harvey raises an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t see you moving, rookie,” he says and Mike narrows his eyes.
“I hate you,” Mike steps away and slams his hand against the kitchen counter, “I hate you.” He sounds like a child right now and Harvey has to fight the urge to laugh. Mike sighs, pushes both hands into the counter and hangs his head.
“No you don’t,” Harvey replies. Mike turns his head, looks at Harvey with a blank expression, but he’s more sober now than he was when he stumbled in here.
“No…,” he says finally, “I don’t,” there’s a heavy amount of almost regret in Mike’s voice and Harvey takes a step forward. Mike stands up straight and sidesteps him, walks back into the hall, “and that’s the problem,” he practically shouts, spinning on his heel and glaring at Harvey like its all Harvey’s fault.
“Mike,” Harvey starts and Mike stalks forward, his hands balling by his sides and he looks for a second like he’s going to punch Harvey.
“If I gave everything up for you…what would I do?” he demands and Harvey’s at a loss for words, “Who would I be?”
“You are not your job, Mike,” Harvey reaches out, almost without thinking, just needing to feel Mike, to soothe the anger in him when really he should have known better. Mike moves fast, slaps Harvey’s hands away and pushes at his chest.
“No…don’t touch me…I…” Harvey’s head hits the wall with a dull thud and Mike plasters himself to his chest, lips covering Harvey’s with an aggression Harvey hasn’t felt in him before, their teeth click together and Mike runs his hands through Harvey’s hair, tugs on it and Harvey growls, pushes himself upright and Mike stumbles.
“I thought you were leaving?” Harvey snarls as Mike pushes him back against the wall. Mike doesn’t answer, just kisses Harvey again, all anger and teeth, fingers digging into Harvey’s sides, nails raking across his skin. Harvey pushes him away again and Mike stares at him, eyes narrowed slightly, breathing heavy and fast and then they both move, practically crashing together in the middle of the hall. It feels like Mike is trying to climb inside of Harvey, he tastes of beer and whiskey, and faint underlying taste of someone else, but there’s still that indefinable taste of Mike and Harvey groans, pushes Mike against the opposite wall and pushes his hand into Mike’s pants. Mike wrenches his mouth away, pushes his hips forward, his dick sliding through Harvey’s hand. Mike’s skin is hot to the touch, dick hard in Harvey’s hand and Mike groans, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and fucks into Harvey’s grip.
“You going to fuck me Harvey?” he bites out and Harvey twists his hand around Mike’s dick, tugs on Mike’s hair and pulls his head to the side, biting up Mike’s neck.
“No,” he whispers out harshly into Mike’s mouth and Mike whines, “I don’t get to fuck you if I don’t pay for it remember Mike?” Harvey says, bites down on Mike’s jaw. Harvey runs his thumb nail over the head of Mike’s dick and Mike’s legs practically buckle, “and I’m not paying for it,” Harvey twists his hand again.
He has a moment of regret when Mike turns his head back to him, his eyes shining with feelings and emotions and Harvey has to look away. Mike’s fingers press into his shoulders, nails digging in and he drags them down, scratches at Harvey’s skin and the moment passes.
“Asshole,” Mike bites out, leaning forward, wrenching his hair out of Harvey’s grasp, he bites down on Harvey’s shoulder and Harvey pushes a thigh between Mike’s and ruts up against it.
“You going to come Mike? You going to come without me paying for it?” Harvey grinds out, hips moving against Mike’s thigh, Mike groans, fucks his dick into Harvey’s hand, “can you come without being paid Mike?”
“Fuck you,” Mike spits out before his whole body seizes and he comes over Harvey’s hand, biting down on his bottom lip and pressing his forehead to Harvey’s shoulder, “fuck you,” Mike shudders, his hands slipping against Harvey’s back and Harvey stills, his dick aching between his legs and Mike’s come sticky and damp between his fingers. Mike lets out another almost a choked sob and Harvey suddenly feels sick. He pulls his hand out of Mike’s pants and hauls him upright, Mike’s arm wind around his neck and he buries his face into Harvey’s skin.
“Come on Rookie,” Harvey mutters, practically carrying the kid through the hall to his guest room. Mike pushes him away as Harvey gets to the room, lowers himself onto the bed and buries his face into the pillow, a strip of skin between the hem of his t-shirt and his pants shows as he stretches out, muttering nonsense to himself, and Harvey fights the urge to touch the small bruises already forming in the shape of his own fingers.
“Harvey?” Mike murmurs, turning his head to Harvey but his eyes stay closed.
“Yeah?” Harvey hovers at the doorway.
“I don’t hate you,” Mike says, and then lets out a soft snore. Harvey fights the urge to curl up behind Mike, pull him close and sleep with his nose buried in Mike’s hair.
“I know.”
…
Harvey wakes to that moment of ‘oh God something terrible happened last night’ and it takes him a few minutes to remember Mike coming apart in his arms, screaming that he hated Harvey and Harvey asking him if he could only come if he was getting paid. He wants to groan, to punch something, to go back to sleep like it’s all a nightmare. He also wants to go into Mike’s room, fuck him awake and tell him that he has no need to fuck around anymore, that Harvey will take care of him. But he can’t do any of those things, especially not the last.
He runs a hand across his face, decides against shaving and decides coffee is needed before he makes any more decisions.
Harvey’s halfway through making an omelette, two cups of coffee down, when Mike stumbles into the kitchen, hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes, still dressed in last nights clothes. He looks at Harvey like he’s broken and Harvey has to stop himself from pulling him close and never letting him go.
“Is this the part where we have an awkward conversation?” Mike asks, slipping onto a stool at the kitchen counter. Harvey raises an eyebrow as Mike drops his head onto his crossed arms.
“No,” he says, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter at him, Mike lifts his head and wraps his hands around the mug, “this is the part where you eat breakfast,” Harvey flips the omelette, cuts it in half with a spatula and slides one half onto a plate, pushes it in front of Mike.
“Harvey,” Mike begins, and he sighs, looks at Harvey with such a pained expression that he seems so painfully young. Harvey grips tighter at the spatula, he needs to do this, for both of them.
“Mike, you were drunk, I took advantage,” he holds up his hand as Mike goes to protest, “let’s just pretend it never happened and go back to being a professional partnership, ok?” Mike raises an eyebrow, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.
“Partnership?” he asks and Harvey smiles back at him, slides his own half of omelette onto a plate.
“Would you prefer relationship?” he asks, dumping the frying pan into the sink, “I thought if I said “boyfriends” you might throw a punch,” Mike chokes on a mouthful off omelette, manages to swallow and nods at him, fingers twitching around his fork.
“Partnership will do,” he agrees and Harvey nods back at him. Mike looks back at his plate, winces and presses his fingers to his temple.
“Do you want Tylenol?” Harvey asks and Mike looks up at him like he’s the second coming of Christ.
“Oh God yes,” Mike groans.
And just like that, they’re back to some semblance of forced normality.
…
Mike’s lounging on Harvey’s vastly expensive couch when he gets the call.
He’s told Harvey he has nowhere else to be, and Harvey gives him a look that speaks volumes but lets him stay, throws a clean towel and some spare pants and a t-shirt at him and tells him he stinks. Mike laughs but goes and showers, feeling lighter than he has for weeks. He ignores the slight disappointment that Harvey doesn’t slip into the shower behind him and dresses quickly, finds Harvey on the couch with his laptop open on his knees.
Harvey smiles at him and Mike can’t help but reach out and run his fingers across the back of his neck. It feels so normal, so easy and Mike wants to crawl into Harvey’s lap and kiss him. They both freeze and Mike recovers first, sitting on the other side of the couch and crossing his legs under himself.
“Sorry,” he mutters and Harvey shrugs, and it’s such an inelegant, un-Harvey move that Mike can’t help but laugh. Harvey raises an eyebrow at him, but he lifts a hand and rubs at the back of his neck like he’s trying to rub away the feel of Mike’s fingers. Harvey turns back to his laptop and types away and no matter how much Mike wants to ask what he’s doing, if he needs help, wants to slide himself behind Harvey and wrap his legs around Harvey’s waist, he find himself being lulled to sleep, his head pounding softly behind his eyes, by the tapping of Harvey’s fingers against the keys.
He jumps when his phone rings and Harvey watches as he hesitates to answer it, Jenny flashes on the screen. Mike frowns but answers it anyway and Jenny lets out a sob down the phone.
“Mike?”
“Jenny? What’s up?” He asks, ignoring Harvey’s questioning gaze as he pushes himself off the couch.
“It’s Trevor. He’s been arrested,” Mike sighs, promises Jenny he’ll be there as soon as he can and hangs up. Harvey’s hovering behind him when he turns back to the couch, standing so close that Mike nearly jumps. Harvey twitches like he wants to reach out and touch him.
“Everything ok”? he asks and Mike shakes his head.
“No...I…I gotta go,” Harvey squints, cocks his head to the side like he’s searching for the truth in Mike’s face. He moves, cups his hands around Mikes face and pulls him close enough to press their lips together. Nothing more, just the faint press of lips and lips but it has Mike’s head spinning and his stomach clenching as Harvey lets him go, “will you call me?” Mike asks, and he can’t help the hope that creeps into his voice. Harvey smiles faintly.
“If you want me to,” he replies and Mike nods, squeezes at Harvey’s hand briefly.
“How else am I going to give your clothes back,” he says and Harvey smiles bigger.
“Go save whoever needs saving, I’ll speak to you soon,” he says and Mike swallows, somehow reluctant to leave.
“Sorry about…”
“No need,” Harvey replies, placing his finger over Mike’s mouth and Mike grins at the cheesy gesture, “go,” Harvey nods towards the door and Mike nods, refrains from kissing Harvey again and leaves.
He doesn’t think about how his lips tingle until he’s in a cab on the way to the police station.
Chapter 6
It’s been a week since Mike last saw Harvey, or last spoke to him. And for the last two days he hasn’t really thought about him. Much. The first five days were hard, especially seeing other clients. Mike kept thinking about Harvey, his hands on him, his kisses, his dick in Mike’s ass. But he managed to swallow those thoughts down. With Kyle’s help surprisingly. Kyle told him about the night he was with Harvey, told him that Harvey seemed fine, not distracted at all, and if Harvey was fine then Mike could be fine. It also helped that Kyle had then sunk to his knees and proceeded to take Mike’s mind off everything by sucking his brain out through his dick.
“Hey Mikey…you got a minute?” Trevor’s head appears in Mike’s doorway. Mike’s halfway through organising his stuff, a week of keeping busy has left his room a mess and he feels uncomfortable whenever he looks at it, “feel like doing me a favour?” Mike squints at Trevor as he comes into Mike’s room and lowers himself onto the end of the bed. Mike picks up a pair of jeans and folds them neatly.
“If it’s sucking your dick then no…” he says and Trevor laughs. Mike puts his jeans into his closet and reaches for a t-shirt on his bed, giving it a cursory sniff before screwing up his face, it smells of Harvey, and throwing it in the direction of the dirty laundry pile, “or dealing for you,” Mike says as Trevor goes to speak, “again no.”
“Come on kid,” Trevor starts, rising to his feet and Mike balls a t-shirt in his fists.
“You know, I really wish people would stop fucking calling me kid,” he snaps and Trevor is suddenly standing in front of him, looking down at Mike with a calculating, if slightly concerned expression on his face.
“What’s going on?” he asks and Mike steps out of his reach and folds the t-shirt in his hands.
“Nothing, just tired of people treating me like a child, like I’m something that needs to be fixed,” he says and Trevor’s hand curls around his wrist. He tugs gently, and Mike, because it’s Trevor, lets him tug him closer.
“I never treated you like a kid,” Trevor says, in the tone he uses whenever he wants Mike to do something, the tone he uses whenever he thinks seducing Mike will work rather than just asking as a friend. Mike sighs and Trevor lifts his chin. “I wouldn’t do this to a kid,” he says before leaning down and kissing Mike.
It’s been a while, but Mike remembers, of course he does. He remembers the way he felt when Trevor first kissed him, aged sixteen and horny, high as a kite, and Mike had thought that had been it for him. Then Trevor had gotten into dealing drugs, and Mike had gotten into dealing himself, and they had drifted, but kept together out of some misplaced loyalty that neither of them felt anymore.
Trevor slides his hand back into Mike’s hair, grips the short ones at the back of Mike’s neck and Mike can’t help but groan into his mouth.
“God Mike,” Trevor mutters, his lips wet against Mike’s jaw, “I’d forgotten what it was like to kiss you,” his lips slide back up to Mike’s mouth.
“I hadn’t,” Mike answers and Trevor chuckles lightly.
“I didn’t think you would,” he replies, covering Mike’s mouth again. It would be so easy to fall back into Trevor’s arms, to let him push Mike down onto the bed. It would be so easy to forget everything that’s happened between them. Trevor’s fingers slide down his jaw.
“What do you want Trevor?” Mike asks, pulling away as Trevor runs one hand down Mike’s back and pulls his hips closer.
“I need you to do a drop for me,” Trevor mutters against his neck. Mike shakes his head, manages to get his hands between them and pushes Trevor away.
“I told you no. I won’t do that for you,” Mike says and Trevor’s face darkens.
“So you’ll sleep with people for money for me but you won’t do a drop for me?” He demands and Mike crosses his arms over his chest and takes a step backwards.
“You’re not endearing me to the situation right now Trev,” he says and Trevor sighs, the anger in him dissipating. Trevor’s always been quick to anger, a fiery temper lurks under his often cool façade and Mike’s been at the tail end of it more than once, and Mike absently rubs at his jaw as if remembering the time Trevor punched him.
“Look Mike, come on, I really need your help now,” Trevor says, reaching out and rubbing his hands up and down Mike’s arms, like he’s trying to soothe. Mike shrugs out of his grasp.
“No,” Trevor scowls. When Mike first met Trevor he thought he was the most gorgeous person in the world, apart from Jenny, but Trevor has an ugly side, a side that appears when he’s angry, a side that makes Mike almost wish he’d never laid eyes on him at all.
“Do you want me to throw you out?” Trevor asks, his voice getting the low quality it takes on when he’s furious and trying to control it. Mike takes another step away but scoffs.
“Trevor, you know it wouldn’t be the end of my life, my clients come to you because me, if I left, they would leave,” he says and Trevor’s eyes narrow. He runs a hand through his hair and turns his back, takes a deep breath and when he turns around again, the old Trevor is back, the kind one, the one who swept Mike off his feet all those years ago, the one with soft eyes and an easy smile.
“So you won’t help me?” he asks and Mike nearly gives in, nearly buckles and helps him but he’s been there before, helped Trevor out when no one else would and he promised himself he wouldn’t do that again. Especially not after the last time when Trevor had to promise Mike to the heavies to get them both out of the sticky situation.
“No. I said never again the last time, and I meant it. Find someone else,” Mike turns away from him and he hears Trevor storm out.
Mike sighs heavily, pinches the bridge of his nose and sits down on his bed. He cradles his head in his hands. His fingers itch to call Harvey, to talk to him, to let Harvey fuck him. He shakes his head. Mike’s never really had someone to talk to before. Sure there’s Jenny but she’s usually so blinded by her feelings for Trevor she’s biased and will somehow bring Mike over to Trevor’s side using soft words and gentle hands. There was Grammy, but she’s gone now and Mike feels the ever present crippling sense of loss when he thinks about her. He swallows that down. Harvey had been easy, something about him had made Mike feel comfortable enough to open up, not that he had, but he felt he could. He doesn’t know how they work anymore, him and Harvey, but he suddenly misses his solid presence and his firm hands.
“Mike?” Mike looks up at Jenny hovering in his doorway.
“Hey,” he always has a smile for Jenny, and she smiles back as she sits down next to him and takes one of his hands.
“You heard?” he asks and she nods, curling their fingers together. Mike nudges his knee against hers and she looks up at him with a little girl lost expression.
“Would you really leave?” she asks and Mike reaches out, tucks her hair behind her ear.
“Jen, I’m better than this,” he says, “You’re better than this,” she does her usual shrug like she doesn’t believe him whenever he says something nice and Mike lifts his hand again and cups her face, thumb sliding over her cheek, “don’t you ever think its time to grow up? Stop being Trevor and Jenny and Mike?” She leans into his touch.
“I like being Trevor and Jenny and Mike,” she smiles sadly and stands, shoves her hands into her pockets. “He’s going to get into trouble, Mike,” she says helplessly and Mike stands, curls his fingers around her arms.
“I know, but Jenny I’m not letting myself get dragged down by him, you shouldn’t either,” she looks pleadingly at him and he can’t do this, not now, he can’t look at her and be swayed by her pretty face, or her soft pleading words. He suddenly realises what Harvey meant by he’s an anchor, he’s holding Jenny back, grounding her in the worst way and Mike can’t sit back and watch it happen anymore. “Look I’ve…gotta go, but,” he kisses her forehead, “don’t let him take his anger at me out on you,” she smiles slightly, strokes his cheek.
“Love you Mike,” she says, punching him gently in the shoulder. He smiles down at her, wishes things could be different for her.
“Love you too,” he grabs his jacket and heads for the door. He looks back and gives Jenny one last smile before he leaves.
…
Mike’s confused. Tom hasn’t called, which in itself is weird, Tom likes to get high at least once a week and fuck Mike into a mattress, but add that to the fact that no one else has called and Mike is starting to think that something is going on.
Thing is, that Mike relies on clients, not just for money, but for his eternal need to satisfy people. If he isn’t working then he spends most of the time trying to ignore the burning need to get high and do nothing, like him and Trevor used to do all those years back. But Mike isn’t like that anymore. He’s not that person, he’s grown.
He laughs bitterly to himself, swirling whiskey around his glass as he ignores the sideways glance from the guy sitting next to him at the bar. He should have gone to a different bar, but he needed comfort and familiarity. And the barman knows him here.
The whiskey reminds him of Harvey and he knocks it back, intending to get a beer to chase the taste of Harvey away, but another glass is placed in front of him and the barman nods in the direction of the guy sitting next to Mike.
Mike smiles sweetly, like he’s been taught, raises his glass and that gives the guy all he needs to slide over and sit in the next stool.
“You look like you needed another,” he says and Mike slides his eyes across to him, raises an eyebrow, the guy splutters, “no…I didn’t mean it like that just…”
“It’s ok,” Mike smiles and places a hand on his arm, the guy looks down at Mike’s hand and Mike squeezes gently before letting go, “I get it. And you’re right,” he says and the guy smiles.
“Gregory,” he says, holding out his hand and Mike waits a mysterious few seconds before he takes the proffered hand in his own.
“Mike,” Gregory smiles, licks at his lips. Mike wants to hustle this guy, to string him along till he’s practically begging then throw the escort card. He hasn’t done that for a while, hasn’t felt the need to but there’s something in the back of his mind screaming at him, the need to reassert himself as who he was before Harvey came into his life and turned it upside down and he licks his own lips back, uses the practiced methods of seduction that come as pretty much second nature and within half an hour Gregory is eating out of his hand.
“So Mike you want to talk about it?” Gregory asks, “whatever’s eating you?” And Mike shakes his head, presses his thigh to Gregory’s and takes a mouthful of beer, letting his lips wrap around the top of the bottle in a way that could be accidental. Gregory’s eyes darken slightly and Mike leans forward, presses his hand to Gregory’s thigh to keep himself upright as he feels the hum of alcohol in his veins.
“No…I don’t want to…talk,” he says and Gregory swallows, Mike tracks the movement with his eyes, “I need the bathroom,” Mike says pointedly, slipping off the stool and making sure to touch Gregory as he passes.
He has just enough time to splash cold water over his face before Gregory closes the bathroom door behind him and presses himself back against it. He looks slightly terrified and Mike smiles easily, takes a step towards him and runs his fingers over Gregory’s belt buckle.
“You want me to fuck you?” Mike asks gently and Gregory’s eyes go wide, “or do you want me on my knees?” Gregory swallows again, drops his head back against the door and pushes his hips forward as Mike slides his hand down his pants, cups at his half hard dick through the suit material.
There’s something almost innocent about Gregory, he’s probably closeted, and as if in answer, his wedding ring glints in the fluorescent light and Mike curses himself for not noticing it before. Mike switches character easily. Harvey Specter reads people? Harvey’s got nothing on the ways Mike can read people and what they need.
“You going to go back to your wife stinking of sex?” Gregory’s eyes fly open and Mike catches his mouth. Gregory groans, presses forward into Mike’s hand, eager and wanting and Mike decides then and there that this will be a freebee, Gregory can come to terms with having his dick sucked by a whore on his own time, decide to call Mike later on but right now Mike’s mouth is watering at the though of it and he can’t be bothered with the whole subterfuge and anger that inevitably sets in after Mike reveals what he is.
Mike slips to his knees, hands working Gregory’s button open. Mike can smell his arousal through his pants, and there’s a small damp spot on his boxers and Mike looks up at him, smiles through his lashes and Gregory runs a hand through his hair, his eyes going soft in a way that Mike sees more often than not. Mike looks back at Gregory’s crotch, pulls his hard dick out and strokes his hand once up the length. When Mike looks up at Gregory again, his eyes have gone dark and hard and Mike smiles to himself, licks at the tip and Gregory groans, pushes his hips forward, the slick tip of his dick sliding across Mike’s lips. Mike licks at it again, swirls his tongue around the head and then swallows him whole. Gregory’s hands in his hair tug hard, and Mike can feel tension in him as he holds at Gregory’s hips. He pulls off, looks up at Gregory again.
“Fuck my mouth,” he says and Gregory groans again, pushes his dick back in and Mike closes his eyes, lets Gregory fuck his mouth like he means it, like Mike needs until Gregory comes, hands twisting in Mike’s hair hard enough to hurt. Mike just takes it, pulls off with a slick pop, a string of saliva and come connecting them and Gregory groans again, slides a thumb across Mike’s lower lip, pushes it inside his mouth. Mike doesn’t swallow, lets his eyes slide closed for a second before he pulls away, stands and spits into the nearest sink.
“Thanks,” Gregory mutters, tucking himself away and Mike shrugs.
“No problem, think I needed that as much as you did,” Gregory smiles, catches Mike’s hand, tugs him closer, hands on Mike’s hips.
“Think you need more,” Gregory says, holding their hips together, “can’t let you go out there just yet,” and Mike smiles but pushes him away. He digs a card out of his pocket and presses it to Gregory’s hand.
“I’m used to it,” he says and manages to catch the shocked look on Gregory’s face before he leaves the bathroom. He sighs heavily, catches the bartenders eye, he grins and rolls his eyes and Mike shrugs, but is out of the door and hailing a cab before Gregory can follow him.
He needs more alcohol, but at least he’s chased the taste of Harvey from his mouth.
…
Harvey’s not sure what he’s expecting when he opens his door to the furious knocking at 1 in the morning, but he certainly isn’t expecting a Mike so drunk he can hardly stand, hair a complete mess, slouching on his door frame and leering like he’s only just learnt how to.
“I don’t remember calling you,” Harvey says and Mike lurches forward, stumbles on his own feet and Harvey’s reaching out to catch him before he even thinks about it. He smells of cheap beer and cigarette smoke, and sex, and Harvey tightens his grip, ignores the stab of insane jealousy and hauls him inside, slamming the door behind them. Mike pushes himself out of Harvey’s grasp, sways slightly and grins.
“No, but now that you have me here,” he slurs and takes a shaky step towards Harvey, “what are you going to do with me?”
“You’re drunk,” Harvey stats and Mike snorts, wanders off in the direction of the kitchen.
“No shit,” he calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen and Harvey finds him with his head in the fridge. He emerges with a bottle of water and downs half of it before he speaks. “Trevor’s an ass,” he says and Harvey raises an eyebrow.
“No shit,” he replies and Mike laughs.
“See that’s funny because that’s just what I said,” he hiccoughs and drinks the rest of the water and Harvey’s left watching the way his throat bobs as he swallows. He doesn’t know why Mike’s here but it’s almost too much to have Mike in front of him and not be able to touch him. Touching him right now would remind Harvey that he has to pay for it. Mike rubs at his jaw like it aches and Harvey has a sinking feeling in his stomach, “did he hurt you?”
“No…I sucked a guy’s cock in the bathroom of my local bard and he was big,” Mike laughs wryly, staring at Harvey like he’s challenging him. Harvey swallows down the stab of anger, the irrational jolt of jealousy.
“I hope you got paid for it,” he says and Mike laughs again, takes a slow drink of water.
“Nope…and I let him come in my mouth too, Harvey,” Mike’s taunting him, he knows this but Harvey can’t help the way his teeth grind together or the uncontrollable urge he has to shake some sense into Mike. Mike lets out a choked sounds that’s halfway between a sob and a laugh, then he moves, reaches out to Harvey, his hands playing over Harvey’s bare chest.
“What are you doing here Mike?” Harvey asks and Mike looks up from his hands, his eyes unfocused, pupils wide, he licks his lip.
“I could have had anyone tonight, could have got any one of those guys in the bar to fuck me, but I want you,” he says and Harvey covers Mike’s hands with his own, “I want you to fuck me.” Mike leans forward, closes his eyes and tries to kiss Harvey. Harvey doesn’t move, he can’t, he can’t let himself kiss Mike, that will be the end. Not only is Mike drunk, and he no doubt tastes like other people but Mike was the one who wanted to keep this strictly professional. Mike opens his eyes, a frown passing over his face.
“I’m not paying you,” Harvey says and Mike lets him go but doesn’t step away, Harvey can still feel his breath against his lips.
“Then I’m not staying,” Mike says and Harvey raises an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t see you moving, rookie,” he says and Mike narrows his eyes.
“I hate you,” Mike steps away and slams his hand against the kitchen counter, “I hate you.” He sounds like a child right now and Harvey has to fight the urge to laugh. Mike sighs, pushes both hands into the counter and hangs his head.
“No you don’t,” Harvey replies. Mike turns his head, looks at Harvey with a blank expression, but he’s more sober now than he was when he stumbled in here.
“No…,” he says finally, “I don’t,” there’s a heavy amount of almost regret in Mike’s voice and Harvey takes a step forward. Mike stands up straight and sidesteps him, walks back into the hall, “and that’s the problem,” he practically shouts, spinning on his heel and glaring at Harvey like its all Harvey’s fault.
“Mike,” Harvey starts and Mike stalks forward, his hands balling by his sides and he looks for a second like he’s going to punch Harvey.
“If I gave everything up for you…what would I do?” he demands and Harvey’s at a loss for words, “Who would I be?”
“You are not your job, Mike,” Harvey reaches out, almost without thinking, just needing to feel Mike, to soothe the anger in him when really he should have known better. Mike moves fast, slaps Harvey’s hands away and pushes at his chest.
“No…don’t touch me…I…” Harvey’s head hits the wall with a dull thud and Mike plasters himself to his chest, lips covering Harvey’s with an aggression Harvey hasn’t felt in him before, their teeth click together and Mike runs his hands through Harvey’s hair, tugs on it and Harvey growls, pushes himself upright and Mike stumbles.
“I thought you were leaving?” Harvey snarls as Mike pushes him back against the wall. Mike doesn’t answer, just kisses Harvey again, all anger and teeth, fingers digging into Harvey’s sides, nails raking across his skin. Harvey pushes him away again and Mike stares at him, eyes narrowed slightly, breathing heavy and fast and then they both move, practically crashing together in the middle of the hall. It feels like Mike is trying to climb inside of Harvey, he tastes of beer and whiskey, and faint underlying taste of someone else, but there’s still that indefinable taste of Mike and Harvey groans, pushes Mike against the opposite wall and pushes his hand into Mike’s pants. Mike wrenches his mouth away, pushes his hips forward, his dick sliding through Harvey’s hand. Mike’s skin is hot to the touch, dick hard in Harvey’s hand and Mike groans, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and fucks into Harvey’s grip.
“You going to fuck me Harvey?” he bites out and Harvey twists his hand around Mike’s dick, tugs on Mike’s hair and pulls his head to the side, biting up Mike’s neck.
“No,” he whispers out harshly into Mike’s mouth and Mike whines, “I don’t get to fuck you if I don’t pay for it remember Mike?” Harvey says, bites down on Mike’s jaw. Harvey runs his thumb nail over the head of Mike’s dick and Mike’s legs practically buckle, “and I’m not paying for it,” Harvey twists his hand again.
He has a moment of regret when Mike turns his head back to him, his eyes shining with feelings and emotions and Harvey has to look away. Mike’s fingers press into his shoulders, nails digging in and he drags them down, scratches at Harvey’s skin and the moment passes.
“Asshole,” Mike bites out, leaning forward, wrenching his hair out of Harvey’s grasp, he bites down on Harvey’s shoulder and Harvey pushes a thigh between Mike’s and ruts up against it.
“You going to come Mike? You going to come without me paying for it?” Harvey grinds out, hips moving against Mike’s thigh, Mike groans, fucks his dick into Harvey’s hand, “can you come without being paid Mike?”
“Fuck you,” Mike spits out before his whole body seizes and he comes over Harvey’s hand, biting down on his bottom lip and pressing his forehead to Harvey’s shoulder, “fuck you,” Mike shudders, his hands slipping against Harvey’s back and Harvey stills, his dick aching between his legs and Mike’s come sticky and damp between his fingers. Mike lets out another almost a choked sob and Harvey suddenly feels sick. He pulls his hand out of Mike’s pants and hauls him upright, Mike’s arm wind around his neck and he buries his face into Harvey’s skin.
“Come on Rookie,” Harvey mutters, practically carrying the kid through the hall to his guest room. Mike pushes him away as Harvey gets to the room, lowers himself onto the bed and buries his face into the pillow, a strip of skin between the hem of his t-shirt and his pants shows as he stretches out, muttering nonsense to himself, and Harvey fights the urge to touch the small bruises already forming in the shape of his own fingers.
“Harvey?” Mike murmurs, turning his head to Harvey but his eyes stay closed.
“Yeah?” Harvey hovers at the doorway.
“I don’t hate you,” Mike says, and then lets out a soft snore. Harvey fights the urge to curl up behind Mike, pull him close and sleep with his nose buried in Mike’s hair.
“I know.”
…
Harvey wakes to that moment of ‘oh God something terrible happened last night’ and it takes him a few minutes to remember Mike coming apart in his arms, screaming that he hated Harvey and Harvey asking him if he could only come if he was getting paid. He wants to groan, to punch something, to go back to sleep like it’s all a nightmare. He also wants to go into Mike’s room, fuck him awake and tell him that he has no need to fuck around anymore, that Harvey will take care of him. But he can’t do any of those things, especially not the last.
He runs a hand across his face, decides against shaving and decides coffee is needed before he makes any more decisions.
Harvey’s halfway through making an omelette, two cups of coffee down, when Mike stumbles into the kitchen, hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes, still dressed in last nights clothes. He looks at Harvey like he’s broken and Harvey has to stop himself from pulling him close and never letting him go.
“Is this the part where we have an awkward conversation?” Mike asks, slipping onto a stool at the kitchen counter. Harvey raises an eyebrow as Mike drops his head onto his crossed arms.
“No,” he says, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter at him, Mike lifts his head and wraps his hands around the mug, “this is the part where you eat breakfast,” Harvey flips the omelette, cuts it in half with a spatula and slides one half onto a plate, pushes it in front of Mike.
“Harvey,” Mike begins, and he sighs, looks at Harvey with such a pained expression that he seems so painfully young. Harvey grips tighter at the spatula, he needs to do this, for both of them.
“Mike, you were drunk, I took advantage,” he holds up his hand as Mike goes to protest, “let’s just pretend it never happened and go back to being a professional partnership, ok?” Mike raises an eyebrow, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.
“Partnership?” he asks and Harvey smiles back at him, slides his own half of omelette onto a plate.
“Would you prefer relationship?” he asks, dumping the frying pan into the sink, “I thought if I said “boyfriends” you might throw a punch,” Mike chokes on a mouthful off omelette, manages to swallow and nods at him, fingers twitching around his fork.
“Partnership will do,” he agrees and Harvey nods back at him. Mike looks back at his plate, winces and presses his fingers to his temple.
“Do you want Tylenol?” Harvey asks and Mike looks up at him like he’s the second coming of Christ.
“Oh God yes,” Mike groans.
And just like that, they’re back to some semblance of forced normality.
…
Mike’s lounging on Harvey’s vastly expensive couch when he gets the call.
He’s told Harvey he has nowhere else to be, and Harvey gives him a look that speaks volumes but lets him stay, throws a clean towel and some spare pants and a t-shirt at him and tells him he stinks. Mike laughs but goes and showers, feeling lighter than he has for weeks. He ignores the slight disappointment that Harvey doesn’t slip into the shower behind him and dresses quickly, finds Harvey on the couch with his laptop open on his knees.
Harvey smiles at him and Mike can’t help but reach out and run his fingers across the back of his neck. It feels so normal, so easy and Mike wants to crawl into Harvey’s lap and kiss him. They both freeze and Mike recovers first, sitting on the other side of the couch and crossing his legs under himself.
“Sorry,” he mutters and Harvey shrugs, and it’s such an inelegant, un-Harvey move that Mike can’t help but laugh. Harvey raises an eyebrow at him, but he lifts a hand and rubs at the back of his neck like he’s trying to rub away the feel of Mike’s fingers. Harvey turns back to his laptop and types away and no matter how much Mike wants to ask what he’s doing, if he needs help, wants to slide himself behind Harvey and wrap his legs around Harvey’s waist, he find himself being lulled to sleep, his head pounding softly behind his eyes, by the tapping of Harvey’s fingers against the keys.
He jumps when his phone rings and Harvey watches as he hesitates to answer it, Jenny flashes on the screen. Mike frowns but answers it anyway and Jenny lets out a sob down the phone.
“Mike?”
“Jenny? What’s up?” He asks, ignoring Harvey’s questioning gaze as he pushes himself off the couch.
“It’s Trevor. He’s been arrested,” Mike sighs, promises Jenny he’ll be there as soon as he can and hangs up. Harvey’s hovering behind him when he turns back to the couch, standing so close that Mike nearly jumps. Harvey twitches like he wants to reach out and touch him.
“Everything ok”? he asks and Mike shakes his head.
“No...I…I gotta go,” Harvey squints, cocks his head to the side like he’s searching for the truth in Mike’s face. He moves, cups his hands around Mikes face and pulls him close enough to press their lips together. Nothing more, just the faint press of lips and lips but it has Mike’s head spinning and his stomach clenching as Harvey lets him go, “will you call me?” Mike asks, and he can’t help the hope that creeps into his voice. Harvey smiles faintly.
“If you want me to,” he replies and Mike nods, squeezes at Harvey’s hand briefly.
“How else am I going to give your clothes back,” he says and Harvey smiles bigger.
“Go save whoever needs saving, I’ll speak to you soon,” he says and Mike swallows, somehow reluctant to leave.
“Sorry about…”
“No need,” Harvey replies, placing his finger over Mike’s mouth and Mike grins at the cheesy gesture, “go,” Harvey nods towards the door and Mike nods, refrains from kissing Harvey again and leaves.
He doesn’t think about how his lips tingle until he’s in a cab on the way to the police station.
Chapter 6