Just Ask And I Will Do (1/5)
The SECOND I witnessed the epic eye sex going on between Harvey and Mike I was hooked and the Harvey goes and says "good boy" to Mike and gives all these d/s undertones and I am smitten.
Anyway. Here goes.
(Title from Hoobastank's song "Inside Of You").
He thinks he might be well and truly screwed. Or smoked too much pot way back when, before Harvey had swooped in like a White Knight and put a stop to all that. The thing is, Mike is, when you get down to it, all things considered…
…in love with one Harvey Specter.
Ok so maybe not love, maybe obsession, infatuation, completely and utterly bowled over by...
Oh fuck it, who is he kidding. It’s totally love.
And its not normal either, and not just because Harvey is a guy. And his boss. And an arrogant asshole. He also knows exactly what buttons to push and how to push them to turn Mike into a gibbering wreck using nothing more than a finger under his chin and a few well chosen words.
Mike is Harvey’s bitch and Harvey is well aware of it.
He can’t remember when he became the sort of person who craves discipline, who shudders at the thought of the hickey under his collar that Harvey gave him when he’s done something particularly good, or the punishing bruises around his hips when he’s fucked up, again. One might blame his lack of father figure or some pseudo psychoanalytical bullshit like that.
But really what it comes down to is that Harvey gets what Harvey wants.
Mike remembers clearly the first time he felt anything other than vague hero worship for the guy, overhearing him say “good boy” in that dark tone of his that he only uses now in private, or when he’s teaching Mike a lesson in public and wants to torment him to the point of insanity (which he does frequently because he’s an evil bastard). Anyway, Mike’s stomach had cramped at that and after, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head, or the notion that maybe, if he worked hard enough, Harvey would say it again.
Things really escalate from there.
He’s hungover when it happens again, feeling like shit as Harvey’s office spins in his vision and the smell of coffee wafting from the two Styrofoam mugs in front of him makes him feel a little sick. For once though, he’s in before Harvey and that has to count for something right?
“Morning Puppy,” Harvey sounds entirely too chipper for this early in the morning and Mike resists the urge to slam his pounding, spinning head against the seemingly smudge proof glass desk that sits in the middle of Harvey’s office (how is it always so clean?), “how’s that pretty head of yours?” He asks, shouting directly into Mike’s ear. Well, talking loudly enough so as not to ruffle his immaculate image, directly into Mike’s ear. Mike groans in response and Harvey’s fingers slide across the back of his neck. Mike shivers and he’s more than happy to blame that one on the alcohol leaving his system, thank you very much.
“Lesson number 5,256 Mikey, never get drunk with clients.”
“You told me to,” Mike protests weakly because honestly he doesn’t think his head can take anything other than weakly right now. Harvey smirks and sits in the chair that probably cost more than Mike’s monthly rent, blows gently on the coffee and takes a sip, smiling in pure bliss as the caffeine works its way into his veins. The smile is one that Mike rarely sees, a real smile, even though it’s small. The ones he usually throws at Mike are tinged with a smirk.
“No, I told you to entertain them,” he says after he swallows and Mike must still be drunk because he watched the movement of Harvey’s throat with a fascination that only a drunk man trying to read a label on a bottle of beer can have. “Do I need to teach you a lesson in listening to every word I say?” Harvey raises an eyebrow questioningly and Mike swallows the lump that has inexplicably formed in his throat.
“But…you…” He starts and Harvey leans forward, resting his chin between his thumb and index finger.
“Do I need to teach you a lesson, Michael?” And there it is, that dark tone again but this time it’s no where near pleased and Mike swallows again and tugs at his collar which suddenly seems far too tight. He resists the urge to shudder and scream God yes please.
Yup, still drunk.
“No,” he says instead and he almost catches a glimpse of disappointment in Harvey’s face before the immaculate mask is back in places and he raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair and crossing a leg over his knee.
“Good boy.”
Mike doesn’t miss the dangerous glint in Harvey’s eyes, or the way his own stomach cramps up again. What the fuck is wrong with him? It should be patronising, and a little bit terrifying but its making Mike’s skin tingle and he can still feel Harvey’s fingers on his neck.
He’s so screwed.
“Right, hand me that case file, the clients that I entertained last night whilst you were getting fucked…although not in the right way…want a draft agreement by this afternoon so…”
The rest of whatever Harvey says drifts over his head and Mike tries to swallow down the urge to bolt from the office, either that, or vomit.
He hasn’t decided yet.
...
“Harvey needs you,” Mike looks up from his desk to see Rachel smiling down at him.
“Does he really?” He asks, “Or is this another plot to whisk me out of the office for a clandestine meeting over weird food?” Rachel crosses her arms, sticks out her hip and rolls her eyes, but to her credit she laughs.
“Do we need to talk about me not dating from the office again? No, Harvey really needs you,” she says, turning on her heel, her long hair spinning out behind her. Mike sits for a second, wondering why Harvey didn’t come and find him himself, throw some spiteful and sarcastic comment at him before turning on his heel and expecting Mike to follow like the little lost puppy that he is. “Now Mike,” Rachel says over her shoulder and Mike jumps, pulls the earbud from his ear and grabs the pile of files sitting on his desk.
Harvey’s on the phone when he gets to his office, pacing the immaculate carpet (honestly do the cleaners only ever vacuum Harvey’s office?), he nods his head in the direction on the chair in front of his desk and Mike throws himself down. He’s fucking tired, can’t remember the last time he slept a decent amount in one go and he zones out listening to Harvey’s arguing beautifully down the phone.
“Working too hard Mike?” Harvey asks, his fingers resting against Mike’s neck. Mike jumps back to attention and Harvey’s fingers stay against his skin as he leans over Mike’s shoulder to look at the files.
“Um…no,” Yeah, way to go Mike, he thinks, that was well answered. Harvey chuckles darkly, curls his fingers against Mike’s neck and Mike arches slightly into the touch. He can’t help that his neck is an erogenous zone for him, it’s not his fault that Harvey’s breath, which smells like coffee by the way, expensive coffee, is hot against his cheek, or that Harvey’s fingers are surprisingly soft, even though there is a hint of power in them as they flex against Mike’s skin. If Harvey notices Mike arching, he doesn’t say anything, just nods to get Mike to open the files.
Harvey takes one look at the papers and nods again, flexing his fingers once more.
“Good, well done,” he says, darkly in Mike’s ear and lets go, straightens up and tugs at his suit as he walks around to sit back into his chair.
Mike feels a flush creep across his cheeks and looks up at Harvey, who’s watching him with an amused yet calculating look.
“Feel free to go back to work Mike, or you could just continue to sit here doing a outstanding impression of a goldfish, either way,” Harvey smirks, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips and Mike watches, licks at his own lips at the same time and sees Harvey’s eyes go dark.
Mike clears his throat and stands.
“Right...back to work...ok,” he stammers and runs from the office.
...
He’s kind of worried, to be honest, that he’s going to slip up one day and fall to his knees and beg Harvey to touch him. He honestly doesn’t know where these thoughts are coming from but they’re there now, stuck inside his head and fuck it, he can’t get them out no matter what.
No amount of beating off in the shower is helping either. Not that he gets more than 2 minutes in the shower what with his love of sleeping and hatred of actually getting out of bed.
But still, Harvey looks good in suits, really good. And slick and Mike wants to be able to make that immaculate wall come down.
Harvey is almost at the dishevelled stage when Mike walks into his office at 10 pm on Friday night. Harvey has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a lock of hair has fallen out from his rock solid coif and is hanging over his forehead. There are wrinkles on his shirt that he would probably rather die than ever admit to having.
He doesn’t even look up at the cursory knock Mike gives.
“Go home Mike,” he says sharply, pinching at the bridge of his nose and staring down at the papers strewn over the floor and the coffee table. Mike shucks off his jacket and folds it over the chair, earning a pleased look from Harvey that all the hours drumming in the importance of looking after your ridiculously expensive suits has paid off.
“What do you need?” he asks, sitting on the floor in front of a pile of paper. Harvey looks relieved for a second, there are rings under his eyes that Mike doesn’t remember seeing this morning.
“Food,” Harvey says, with a small smile.
Three hours later they’re still there, cold pizza (because Harvey let Mike choose and no that didn’t make Mike blush like a 12 year old girl thank you very much), cold coffee (for Harvey) and room temperature Red Bull (for Mike) litter pretty much every surface that isn’t covered with papers. Harvey’s back at his desk and Mike is sitting on the chair in front of it when he punches one fist into the air.
“Yes...I am the King of Loopholes,” he announces and Harvey is by his side in an instant as Mike explains what he’s found. Harvey’s hand is pressing into his shoulder and Mike loses his train of thought when he squeezes gently, thumb running over his pulse point in a way that could be an accident.
“Keep going,” Harvey says when Mike stutters over the words and Mike closes his eyes but carries on speaking.
It almost feels like a test, like Harvey is seeing if Mike will carry on speaking or jump up and scream sexual harassment, or slide off the seat and beg Harvey to fuck him over the smudgeless desk.
And oh my God, where the hell did that thought come from?
“Stop,” Harvey says and Mike does, bites at his bottom lip at Harvey’s hand curls around his neck gently. Harvey’s other hand turns the chair and Mike finds himself staring up at him and suddenly feeling incredibly small.
Harvey narrows his eyes, slides his hand around Mike’s neck until its cupping at his face, his thumb dragging over Mike’s cheekbone, down, across his jaw and up to the corner of his mouth. Harvey’s hand stills there and Mike opens his mouth slightly.
The exhalation of breath from Harvey is almost as rewarding as bringing in his first client in his first month. Harvey’s hand is large enough that his fingers curl around the back of Mike’s neck and he tugs.
“Stand up,” His voice sounds like he’s been shouting for hours and Mike, because he’s lame and pathetic, can’t help but obey and stands, his legs shaking slightly.
So lame.
Harvey’s other hand cups his face now and he drags his thumbs across both cheekbones and under his chin, tipping Mike’s head back and he steps in closer. Harvey’s mouth is mere inches away and Mike licks his lips, parting them and Harvey’s eyes flick down to watch. Harvey moves in closer and Mike readies himself for finally finding out if Harvey tastes of coffee, mint or whiskey, or something else entirely.
“Go home Mike,” Harvey lets him go suddenly and Mike stumbles forward, Harvey’s hand flat against his chest the only thing stopping him from faceplanting into the piles of paper and the un-vacuumed carpet (when the hell do the cleaners clean?).
“Wha?” He asks and Harvey runs a hand through his hair, there’s a faint blush across the bridge of his nose and his eyes look darker than usual and he doesn’t look at Mike as he sits back in his chair and spins it to face the window.
“Go home. Get some sleep, I’ll see you on Monday morning,” Harvey’s tone leaves no room for arguing, as per usual and Mike is still scratching his head as he slides into a cab and rests his head against the window.
...
Mike tries to be normal on Monday morning, making it in before Harvey, although that is massively out of the ordinary and Donna raises her eyebrows knowingly as he slips into Harvey’s office and deposits his coffee onto the coaster (again, out of the ordinary cos he usually just dumps it on the desk and waits for Harvey’s huff of annoyance).
His stomach is churning and he feels light headed and wishes that this phase he’s going through right now would just stop, cease and desist because its starting to affect his daily life, what with every free minute being spent thinking about the way Harvey’s hand had seemed to fit perfectly against his face.
God Dammit.
“Morning Rookie,” Harvey sounds normal, his usual arrogant, ass hole-ish self but Mike can feel the shift in their “relationship” (or whatever the fuck this twisted thing that has Mike wanting to do anything to get Harvey to touch him again is) the second Harvey’s heavy gaze lands on him. He raises an eyebrow at the coffee sitting on the desk and Mike sits up to attention.
“No cream, two sugars, from that shop down the block,” he says and nearly smacks himself around the back of the head.
Way to sound like a desperate crush addled teenager Mike.
“Wow, if I had known that all it took to get you to be my bitch was to touch you, I would have done it weeks again,” Harvey snarks, sipping at his coffee and Mike chokes on his own saliva.
Smooth.
“Um...” Mike pulls at his collar and Harvey slaps at his hand. Mike drops it immediately and curses himself for being so predictably pathetic. Harvey smirks again.
“Harvey...” Mike wants to small his head against the nearest hard surface because he sounds desperate, his voice breathy and Harvey smirks wider, presses a hand on the top of the chair Mike’s sitting in, and leans forward, towering over Mike in way that’s meant to be intimidating. Except it fails and becomes massively erotic.
“Personally Mike, I am partial to Sir but I think we need to work up to that, don’t you?” Harvey sounds amused but there is a hint of darkness in his tone that makes Mike swallows hard.
“Harvey, Mr Fijuki on line two,” Donna’s tinny voice comes over the intercom and Harvey stands straight, waves his hand in the direction of the door and Mike practically trips over his own feet and ignores Donna’s amused expression as he hurries to his cubicle.
...
Harvey catches him blissfully alone next time, down in the archive room between two shelves of boxes and it smells like paper and Harvey and Mike…
Is getting ahead of himself.
Mike is working, doing some menial task for Louis, because he basically bribed Mike again and its late and Mike has a headache building at the back of his eyes.
He’s blaming that for switching off and not noticing the second Harvey enters the room.
“What are you still doing here?” Harvey says and Mike jumps slightly, a piece of paper he’s reading slips out of his hand and he spins around to catch the brief smirk on Harvey’s face.
“Doing the job you gave me and I love with all my heart,” he replies sarcastically and Harvey is suddenly close behind him, reaching around in front of him to grab the file from his hands. Harvey’s breath is warm against his neck and Mike wants to lean back against him and go to sleep forever.
“This is for Louis,” Harvey says, and its posed as a question except they both know the answer. Mike nods anyway and Harvey’s cheek slides against Mike’s.
The file leaves his hand and Harvey’s firm grip on his shoulder spins him around till he’s facing Harvey. Mike finds the knot on Harvey’s tie fascinating until Harvey’s fingers crook under his chin and lift his head up.
“Do I need to remind you who you work for, Mike?” He says quietly. There’s a hint of amusement in his voice, a hint of danger too and Mike swallows (when did he start swallowing so much?), “do I?”
Harvey is only an inch taller, at the most, but standing there, with his throat bared and Harvey standing at full height, Mike feels small and helpless and he’s not entirely adverse to the feeling, truth be told. Harvey must pick something up from him, whether it’s the way Mike licks at his lips, or the fact that he can’t help his hips from canting forward slightly, seeking any friction at all (because his dick is suddenly very interested), Mike doesn’t care or know. Harvey pushes him backwards until his back hits one of the metal shelves. Its almost hard enough to hurt, the edge is digging into his back and that sends another interested pulse down to his traitorous dick.
When the hell did he get so kinky?
“No,” he manages to say and Harvey steps closer, presses a thigh to Mike’s crotch and Mike sees stars.
He may or may not groan, he’s taking the Fifth on that one.
Harvey winds his fingers into Mike’s hand and lifts it above his head, pressing it into the shelf in a way that Mike gets the unsaid “don’t move”. The other hand is lifted and Harvey wraps his fingers around Mike’s wrists, brushing over his pulse.
“Leave them there,” he says quietly and Mike can only nod dumbly as Harvey lets his wrists go and trails a hand down the bare skin of his forearm, “you work for me,” he says as his fingers reach the crook of Mike’s elbow.
“I know,” Mike replies and Harvey pulls his hand away. Mike wants to bite off his tongue and press Harvey’s hand back to his skin. Harvey’s eyes narrow.
“No talking,” he says and Mike nods again, clenching his hands together to stop himself from tugging Harvey close and rutting up against his thigh like a bitch in heat.
Wow, there really is something wrong with him.
Harvey’s palms are warm and dry against his cheeks, the pads of his thumbs soft against the smooth skin under Mike’s eyes. One travels down Mike’s face, over the day old stubble (because he forgot to bring his razor into work again) and across his parted lips. Mike can’t help but flick his tongue against the digit and Harvey’s nostrils twitch and his eyelids flutter. He feels a swell of pride at that, he made Harvey’s mask slip even if for just a second.
Harvey comes closer, shifts his thigh and Mike shuts his eyes and groans, because its no where near enough pressure yet he feels like he’s about to explode.
“Look at me,” Harvey says and Mike snaps his eyes open. Harvey’s eyes are dark, they slope downwards in a way that should make them look kind but at the moment he looks anything but.
Mike’s hands are beginning to tingle as the blood flows down his arms. Harvey moves one hand and presses it into Mike’s hip, digs his fingers in slightly and Mike moves, trying to get closer but Harvey’s grip is strong. His hand on Mike’s face moves, curls around his neck and tugs him closer, until Harvey is out of focus and all Mike can see is a blur of tanned skin. Harvey’s breath is warm against Mike’s lips and Mike parts them, breathes out with a noise that might possibly be a “please”, and then Harvey’s lips are pressed against them.
Its almost chaste, just a press of mouths, but Mike can feel the way Harvey’s fingers tighten at the back of his neck and at his hips, the way Harvey’s shifts his thigh again. Mike moans into Harvey’s mouth and Harvey pushes his tongue in, licking at the roof of Mike’s mouth and digging his thumb into the soft flesh under Mike’s chin.
Mike should have known that Harvey would be an outstanding kisser. He gives off that aura and Mike has, more than once, found himself wondering what it would be like.
Reality? Ten thousand times better.
He’s firm, with a hard grip around Mike’s neck and hip, but there’s a softness underneath it that has Mike’s knees shaking and he keeps shifting his thigh against Mike’s dick and is driving him kind of crazy. Harvey gives one last shift of his thigh and then he pulls away. Mike must look like an idiot because he’s pretty sure he tries to chase Harvey’s mouth with his own and his eyes are still shut and he’s more than likely gaping like a, well as Harvey so succinctly put it, goldfish.
Harvey runs his thumb over Mike’s lips again, and it slides easily this time, through their saliva and it shouldn’t be hot, but somehow, Harvey’s heavy gaze makes it the hottest thing Mike has ever felt.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Harvey says, dropping his hand from Mike’s face, squeezing once at his hip. He shoves his hands into his pockets and gets halfway to the door before Mike has enough brain power to speak.
“Seriously? After that you’re just going to leave?” he asks and Harvey doesn’t even turn, just pulls the door open.
“Goodnight Mike,” he throws over his shoulder as the door slams behind him. Mike lets his head fall back against the shelf, rubs absently at his wrist and flexes his fingers in an attempt to ward off the pins and needles he can feel beginning in the tips. His hip is throbbing dully where Harvey’s fingers pressed in and Mike is pretty sure he’s going to have finger shaped bruises there tomorrow.
And he doesn’t know if that should make him feel incredibly turned on or hugely worried at his own mental state.
He’s just about settled on a mixture of both as he finally leaves the building and heads home, weaving through the traffic until he pulls up outside his apartment block, heads up the stairs and falls into bed and a blissfully dreamless sleep.
…
Harvey pretty much ignores him the next day, only barking orders at him until even Donna notices and asks what the hell he’s done to upset Harvey.
The day after it’s the same and its driving Mike crazy because he can still feel Harvey’s mouth against his own and the way Harvey’s hands felt when they brushed against his wrists.
Mike is starting to wonder if perhaps he’s done something wrong, something to make Harvey back off, he hasn’t even smirked at Mike in two days and Mike is feeling the absence like a punch in the gut.
Yes, he’s well aware that makes him sound like a teenage girl, thank you.
Problem is he can’t help himself, and actually now it’s making him pissed more than anything.
It’s only until three days later when Louis is being an ass (nothing unusual there) and Mike snaps and calls him on it that Harvey actually graces him with anything other than contempt.
His hand clamps onto Mike’s shoulder as he storms from Louis’s office and steers him towards the bathroom. To anyone watching it might look like Harvey is just about to berate Mike (again not unusual) but Mike can feel the way Harvey’s fingers tighten slightly when Mike resists and lets out a startled “what the?” Harvey pushes him inside, locks the door and shoves him up against the nearest hard surface, which happens to be a stall door. Mike groans as his head hits the wood with a dull thud and Harvey smirks as he crowds into Mike and kisses him until Mike can’t see straight or remember his own name.
“What was that for?” Mike asks when Harvey lets him go (and he remembers how to actually speak) and tugs his impeccable suit back into position.
“You earned that,” Harvey says, stepping far enough away that Mike can’t feel his body heat, but keeping a firm grip on Mike’s arm.
“So...let me get this straight,” Mike says, “you only kiss me when I do something right? And snapping at Louis is a good thing?” Harvey raises an eyebrow at him and snakes a hand out to straighten Mike’s tie.
“That’s about it,” he says, his fingers trailing over Mike’s neck and Mike swallows against Harvey’s fingers.
“But,” Mike runs a hand through his hair and Harvey frowns, reaches out and smoothes it down again, cocking his head to the side as he does it.
“It’s not complicated Mike,” he says in a voice that sounds like he’s talking to a five year old, “try to keep up,” he pats at Mike’s chest, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“So...” Mike begins slowly and Harvey leans in closer, cups Mike’s face and runs his thumb down Mike’s jaw, “shouting at Louis is good. What do I get for bringing a client on board?” Harvey chuckles slightly, his breath hot against Mike’s neck, and he licks at Mike’s skin. Mike shudders.
“That gets you sex,” Harvey says quietly, his hand pressing into Mike’s hip, keeping him pressed into the stall door. Mike’s feels a surge of arousal at that and his brain goes somewhere in the vicinity of holy crap sex with Harvey can’t cope.
“...and what if I get something wrong?” he manages to ask as Harvey kisses along his jaw and at the corner of his mouth. Harvey pulls back enough to speak the next words into Mike’s mouth.
“That gets you punished,” Harvey pulls completely away and it shouldn’t be hot, it shouldn’t make Mike’s dick interested at his thinly veiled threat, but it is, and it does, and Mike is more than screwed.
He’s totally fucked.
“Ok then,” he nods and Harvey smiles dangerously, flicks the lock on the door and leaves Mike standing there with a half hard dick and a sudden burning passion to bring in as many new clients as possible.
...
Over the next few days, due to the powerful allure of sex with Harvey Specter, Mike manages to secure another client all by himself (some tech genius who claims to have the next Facebook) and Jessica springs for a celebratory drink in the bar opposite the building for them.
Louis is there scowling and Mike dragged Rachel for moral support who is sitting bolt upright clutching at her drink looking decidedly uncomfortable about sitting with the Partners. Mike kicks her gently under the table and grins and he’s rewarded with a smile back.
Mike’s slightly buzzed, nowhere near drunk, but he’s drunk enough that his brain is nicely quiet for once and his thigh tingles from where Harvey’s is pressed up against his under the table.
Jessica stays the obligatory hour before slipping away and Louis stays approximately five minutes longer.
“Come on Mike, lets share a cab,” Rachel says, then downs the rest of her drink. Mike hesitates, and he feels Harvey’s thigh muscle shift next to his and a strong hand lands on his.
“Mike and I need to go through a case,” Harvey says and Rachel blinks at him but doesn’t argue. She leans down and kisses Mikes cheek, whispers “well done” in his ear before grabbing her coat and leaving.
Before leaving Mike. Alone. With Harvey.
Not a good idea.
“What case?” Mike says, pushing himself up and Harvey’s thighs slides against his own.
“There is no case,” Harvey says pointedly, staring at Mike with those brown eyes. Mike shifts, tugs at his tie and Harvey stops him, wraps his fingers around Mike’s hand and pulls it down.
“Ahh so the case is a lie?” Mike snickers and Harvey rolls his eyes, gestures at the waiter who brings over their jackets and takes the cash left by Jessica.
“Get up,” Harvey says and Mike tries not to jump up as soon as the words are out of Harvey’s mouth. He tries, but he fails, and Harvey curls the side of his mouth in a knowing smile as he stalks towards the door of the bar, Mike trails pathetically behind.
Harvey’s limo is conveniently waiting outside, and Ray nods at Mike as Harvey opens the door and slides in.
“Get in the car Mike,” he says from the inside and Mike’s insides flop around like he had a bad the burrito for breakfast. He rubs at the back of his neck suddenly nervous, Harvey’s words that gets you sex sounding loud and clear in his head.
“That’s ok I have my bike and…” Mike trails off at Harvey’s raised eyebrow.
“Get. In. The. Car, Michael,” he says, low and dangerous and Mike can’t really refuse that can he?
“Ok, getting in,” he says going towards the door.
“Other side,” Harvey snaps as he slams the door and narrowly avoids cutting off Mike’s fingers in the process.
“So...” Mike starts sliding into the car.
“Shut up Mike,” Harvey says and Mike does.
There’s a sort of vibrating silence in the back of the car and it makes Mike feel like a kid at Christmas, waiting silently whilst his parents decide when to give him presents and that thought is just weird now because he can’t get the image of Harvey wearing a Santa’s outfit out of his head.
He snorts and Harvey throws him a glare across the empty space between them.
“Sorry,” he mutters and Harvey’s hand lands heavily on his thigh. Harvey doesn’t flinch, just continues looking forward, the only outward sign he’s doing anything other than sitting in a car being driving to his no doubt outrageously expensive apartment is the slight twitch in his jaw when Mike shifts his legs open.
Mike can’t help it, its really not his fault. Harvey’s hand is warm and solid and his fingers are playing against the inseam of his pants and really, its not fair that Harvey should have this affect on him, not when he’s his boss. And a guy. And an asshole.
“What do you get for bringing a client on board Mike?” Harvey asks, his fingers tightening against Mike’s thigh and Mike throws a glance at the screen between them and Ray, and thankfully, its up.
“Um...sex?” Mike answers and Harvey nods. His hand leaves Mike’s thigh and he crooks a finger at him. Mike scoots a little closer, his heart thumping in his chest.
“Good boy,” Harvey mutters, running a hand through Mike’s hair and gripping at the back of his head. He tugs gently, leans forward and licks a stripe up Mike’s neck as Ray pulls the car in front of Harvey’s apartment.
Harvey lets him go and slips out of the car and, surprisingly (so surprisingly that Mike actually freezes for a second) Harvey holds his hand out for Mike to help him out of the car.
His hand is warm as Mike curls his fingers around Harveys, and has a sudden urge to feel those hands against his chest.
“Goodnight Ray,” Harvey says and Ray smiles back at him and nods goodnight.
“How long are these briefs going to take cos I need to get to my own place,” Mike makes his voice louder hoping that Ray will hear and Harvey chuckles, lets go of his hand and places it on Mike’s lower back, steering him towards the building.
“He’s been my driver for eight years, Rookie, you think me taking home my associate is the worst thing he’s ever seen?”
“So you take home associates a lot then?” Mike asks as Harvey punches in the code to get the elevator moving and pushes Mike back against the glass wall, working his hands up under Mike’s jacket.
“No,” Harvey says simply, mouthing at Mike’s neck and he really needs to stop doing that because it’s all going to be over far too quickly is Harvey keeps sucking on his skin like that.
“So I’m the first then?” Mike can’t help but ask and Harvey worries the skin of Mike’s neck gently between his teeth before pulling away and looking at him with an amused expression. Mike squirms under the scrutiny and fiddles with the end of Harvey’s tie. Harvey’s gaze flicks down to Mike’s fingers twirling his vastly expensive tie and then back up to Mike’s face.
“I thought you had more brains than that,” he says cryptically as the elevator stops and the doors slide open and Mike forgets how to breathe for a second.
“Holy...shit,” he breathes out and Harvey lets out a laugh, heading off in one direction as Mike heads towards the enormous windows. Not that they can really be described as windows, more like glass walls. Mike presses his hands against them and looks out and down, savouring the slight sway of vertigo he gets from looking down on heights. “I do not want to know how much this costs a month,” he says and feels Harvey’s hands on his shoulders, pulling off his jacket. Mike stands up straight and lets Harvey slide it down his arms.
“No, you really don’t,” Harvey replies, his fingers tugging Mike’s already loosened tie over his head. His arms are warm around Mike as he undoes the buttons on Mike’s shirt, his mouth hot and wet against Mike’s neck, licking at the mark he already placed there and for some reason that makes Mike incredibly turned on. The tips of Harvey’s fingers graze down Mike’s arms as he slips that off as well and it joins Mike’s jacket over the arm of the Italian couch.
And then its Harvey’s hands against Mike’s skin and Mike thinks he might be more than happy to die right now. Harvey’s hand presses into his stomach, his palm flat, finger splaying out and pulls them together. Mike knows he’s already half hard, from the heavy petting in the elevator, but he’s almost surprised to feel Harvey in exactly the same predicament. He shifts back against him and Harvey’s hisses his breath in, curling his fingers against Mike’s stomach.
Mike moans, arches his hips forward and Harvey pulls him back.
“Easy,” he whispers into Mike’s ear and Mike goes still as Harvey unbuckles Mike’s belt and pants. “Put your hands against the window,” Harvey says and Mike does it without thinking, leans forward slightly and presses his palms to the cool glass. “You did good today, Mike,” Harvey is saying, working his hand into the front of Mike’s pants and he could be reciting the whole of Louis’s latest brief for all Mike cares, as long as his voice keeps muttering darkly in his ear and his hand keeps on going.
Harvey stills just shy of where Mike wants him to be and Mike whines, pressing his hips forward.
“You want this?” Harvey asks, twitching his fingers against Mike’s skin, “tell me,” Harvey rolls his hips against Mike’s.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Mike replies, pressing back against him and gritting his teeth in frustration at the lack of sex that’s going on right now.
Mike finds himself with his back flat against the glass and his vision full of Harvey. Harvey’s eyes have gone dark and his grip around Mike’s arms is just this side of painful.
There’s a split second where Mike considers keeping his mouth shut and seeing how far he can push the anger that seems to be boiling up inside Harvey but Harvey pushes his hand back into Mike’s pants and all thoughts of defiance fly out of his head as Harvey finally gets his hand around Mike’s dick.
“Oh fuck, I want this,” he mutters, letting his head fall back against the window and Harvey’s mouth attaches to his neck again. He twists his hand and Mike groans again, chasing the pull of Harvey’s hands with his hips. Harvey kisses him then, licks into his mouth and twists his hand almost savagely and the mixture of the soft kiss and the harsh twist has Mike’s brain short circuiting.
“Good,” Harvey says against Mike’s mouth, “now you’ll come when I tell you to,” Mike whimpers as Harvey squeezes at the base of his dick and the dark thrill of Harvey’s words sends blood shooting right down to his crotch and he feels light headed and clutches at Harvey’s shoulders, “got that?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mike mutters, his nails snagging on Harvey’s suit. Harvey chuckles, twists his hand again and drags it up Mike’s dick slowly, thumbing over the slit and Mike’s knees nearly give way.
“No Mike,” Harvey says, pressing in closer and mouthing along his jaw, “we’ve been through this, its Harvey, or Sir.”
Mike can feel it building, the insistent stroking from Harvey and the dark words whispered against his skin, the feel of Harvey’s stubble rasping against his jawline and Mike can feel his orgasm building low in his stomach. He bites down on his bottom lip and presses his hands to Harvey’s shoulders and Harvey stills again.
“Not yet Rookie,” he says and Mike takes a deep breath through his nose as Harvey’s hand just holds on, warm and solid and knowing and Mike doesn’t really want to think about other people that have been in the same position with Harvey.
“You are a sadistic bastard,” Mike mutters and Harvey runs his thumb down Mike’s throat. Mike swallows and Harvey kisses at the hollow at the base of Mike’s throat.
“You have no idea,” he says and it makes Mike’s blood run cold. Harvey starts moving his hand again, twisting on the upstroke and Mike really isn’t sure how much longer he can last. Harvey drags their mouths together and ruts up against Mike’s thigh, his hand not faltering in its smooth strokes.
“Harvey...” Mike breathes out and even to his own ears it sounds desperate and needy and he can’t remember when he’s ever sounded like that. “God, please.”
“Please what, Mike?” Harvey asks, thumbing at the slit at the tip of Mike’s dick again and the only reason Mike manages to stay upright is because Harvey is pressing so goddam close.
“God I need...I can’t...fuck...” Mike is well aware he’s babbling like a fool and he slips his hands under Harvey’s jacket, feels warm skin and muscles under his fingers.
“Ok Mike, come now,” Harvey says and then bites down on Mike’s collar bone.
Nowhere in the history of Mike’s sexual exploits (which aren’t that numbered but still varied) has Mike ever needed an edge of pain to orgasm. But Harvey’s dark voice and sure hand, the bite to his collar bone all add up to possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. He feels boneless and useless and there is no way in hell he will be able to stand on his own.
“Bedroom,” Harvey orders, wrapping his fingers around Mike’s arms and hauling him upright. Mike’s legs are shaking and Harvey gently pushes him, his hands steering him towards what Mike can only assume is the bedroom. Although it’s not much a room. The glass walls continue in here as well, and Mike briefly wonders how the hell they’re kept so clean, but Harvey pushes between his shoulders and he’s falling face first on to the bed.
“That was uncalled for,” he mutters, lifting his face from the sheets (god they smell good, like Harvey) and glaring at Harvey. Harvey raises an eyebrow and slips out of his jacket and waistcoat.
Mike’s seen Harvey without the jacket on, but never in just a shirt and he never thought a shirt would be sexy, but, holy crap, it is. It stretches gently over Harvey’s chest and biceps, gathers in slightly at the waist and Mike’s mouth waters. He moves, twists his body round and reaches out, his fingers hovering over the buttons. Harvey looks down at him, cups his face and lifts his head, sliding his thumb across the hickey over his pulse and the bite mark on his collar bone.
What Mike really wants to do is rip the shirt open and bite at Harvey’s skin, but he thinks Harvey might chuck him down the elevator shaft if he does that, those shirts are probably worth more than his life. His hands shake slightly as he undoes the buttons one by one, grazing his knuckles against Harvey’s chest. Harvey’s face doesn’t change, his jaw clenches though, muscles quivering under his skin and his fingers keep stroking at Mike’s neck.
Mike gets the shirt undone, slides his palms around Harvey’s waist, pulls him forward and presses a kiss to Harvey’s flat stomach. He feels the muscles shift under his lips as Harvey shucks off his shirt.
Mike’s finding a lot recently that reality is better than fantasy and Harvey, half naked, is no exception. He hovers his hands over Harvey’s belt and looks up at him.
“Can I?” he asks and he doesn’t know why he feels the need to, just that something in his gut tells him to, and the reward for doing so it Harvey hauling him to his feet and crushing their mouths together, so hard Mike swears he can almost taste blood.
When he’s finished devouring Mike he pushes on his shoulder and Mike sits down heavily on the bed.
“You’re learning Rookie,” he says with something akin to pride, then his eyes darken and his grasp on Mike’s shoulder tightens, “do it.” Mike feels a swell of pride at the fact that he sounds utterly wrecked right now. Mike unclasps the belt, draws it out of the loops one by one and by the time he’s finished Harvey’s breathing is ragged and Mike can’t get his pants undone fast enough. He slides his hands down Harvey’s thighs as he pushes pants and boxers down, the skin smooth under his palms. Then he’s face to face with Little Harvey.
Well, not so little actually. It’s bigger than he expected (there he goes again with reality versus fantasy), hard and smooth and there’s a drop of pre-cum on the tip
Mike licks his lips and leans forward, pressing his mouth to the top of Harvey’s thigh. Harvey slides his hand into Mike’s hair and grips a handful. There’s that sharp edge of pain again and Mike licks a long stripe up the underside of Harvey’s dick, pressing his tongue into the slit and Harvey groans.
Its been a while since Mike has done this (a few fumbled times in college, one or twice with Trevor when they’ve been monumentally high, and that one time when Mike was desperate for weed and…lets just say that was a low point for Mike), but he’s finding its kind of like riding a bike. Except this bike is bigger than normal, and attached to his boss.
Mike takes the opportunity to swallow Harvey down whole whilst he’s dragging in a deep breath and Harvey practically chokes, his grip tightening in Mike’s hair as Mike hums around him.
Harvey is heavy on his tongue, the skin smooth and hot and Mike is blessed (most would say) with a weak gag reflex. He straightens out his neck and swallows, pulling Harvey’s hips closer, till his nose is practically buried in the dark hair on Harvey’s stomach. Harvey’s grip in his hair tightens even more as he pushes his hips forward, Mike hums again and Harvey mutters a soft curse, letting go with one hand and running it down the back of Mike’s neck.
The combination of the gentle hand at his neck, the strong grip on his hair and Harvey using Mike’s mouth the way Harvey wants to makes Mike’s eyes water and he grips at Harvey’s hips, briefly wondering what the bruises will look like tomorrow morning.
Mike can feel the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and Harvey rubs his thumbs across his cheeks, smearing them into the skin as he hauls Mike to his feet and kisses him hard, murmuring “so good” against his mouth. He kicks his pants off and out of the way.
Harvey braces his hands on Mike’s chest and shoves him down onto the bed again. Mike doesn’t even have a chance to protest before Harvey is on him, pressing him into the mattress and the $1000 sheets and kissing him again, all tongue and teeth and its one of the hottest things Mike has ever felt. He’s still hard, Mike can feel his dick against his stomach, and he can taste the salt from Harvey’s pre-cum and from the sweat on his lips.
“Over,” Harvey orders and forcibly flips Mike onto his front. Harvey runs a hand down his back, pausing over bumps of Mike’s spine and the scar that Mike got from falling off his bike when he was eight. Harvey leans down and kisses along his spine, his tongue hot and wet against his skin.
Harvey’s hands worm under him and grips round his hips, pull him onto all fours and he plasters himself along Mike’s back.
“Top drawer Mike,” he says and Mike doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles forward, pulls open the drawer and fumbles around till his hand closes over a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Harvey takes them from his hand and Mike hears the flip of the bottle just before he feels a cool, slick finger circling round his hole. Mike sucks in a breath, pushes his hips back because he’s had enough of foreplay, but Harvey’s grip on his hips stop him.
“Easy, Rookie,” Harvey says again and then there’s slight pressure and he’s pushing a finger in slow fucking slowly Mike thinks he might go mad. He must whine because Harvey runs a hand down his spine again and shushes him, his breath hot against Mike’s ear. The finger inside him curls and pulls back out and when it pushes back in there’s another one.
“Come on,” Mike urges. It’s been a while, he can count on one hand how many times he’s done this, but Mike knows what he wants, knows what he needs and right now he needs Harvey’s dick inside him.
“So pushy,” Harvey mutters, and Mike hears the metallic rip of the condom packet, “might have to nip that in the bud, remind you who’s in charge here,” he says, pressing his hips forward and Mike can feel the tip of Harvey’s dick pushing against his hole. If Harvey’s grip on his hips wasn’t as strong as it was, Mike would have pushed back by now but Harvey holds him steady, pushes agonisingly slowly inside till his hips are pressed up tight against Mike’s. They both groan, Mikes a little more wanton and porn like than Harvey’s. Harvey usually holds himself together when Mike is more ready to strike out, to act on his impulses.
Harvey doesn’t waste any time setting an rhythm and its almost harsh, but Mike loves the sound of skin slapping together, the feel of Harvey’s hand sliding through the sweat on his back, and the fact that they are doing this in front of giant windows adds to the thrill. Harvey doesn’t talk, Mike didn’t expect him to be a talker, but he makes little choked noises that makes him sound like he’s dying, cut off groans in the back of his throat when Mike clenches his muscles around him and Harvey’s hands are hard around his hips, pressing into the tender almost bruises from earlier.
Harvey reaches a hand, slick with lube, between them and wraps his fingers around Mike’s dick and Mike’s surprised to find he’s hard again. Harvey shifts, and drives in and holy shit that feels good.
Harvey lets out a noise that may be a laugh and Mike knows he said that out loud. Harvey’s grip around his dick is slick but hard and he twists his hand as he drives in, strokes upwards as he pulls out and Mike can’t think straight, squeezes his eyes shut as Harvey’s rhythm gets almost erratic. He grunts, pulls out completely, hooks a hand between Mike’s thighs and flips him onto his back, lifts his thighs up and pushes back in. He leans down, driving his hips in and tangles his fingers in Mike’s hair again, kissing him hard and Mike tastes sweat again.
Harvey comes with a grunt, a muffled shout and his lip caught between his teeth, driving up hard into Mike and hitting that spot again. His fingers clench around Mike’s dick then move, sliding up as Harvey drives his hips in again and then Mike, to his utmost surprise, is coming again, hot and sticky over his own stomach.
There’s a stillness after sex that Mike loves, the moment just after orgasm when the whole world seems to stop and its just him and Harvey, their breathing heavy and Harvey’s fingers sliding absently through Mike’s come. Mike feels boneless, utterly fucked out and comfortably numb, but he hisses slightly as Harvey pulls out. Harvey leans down and kisses him once, just a press of lips as he breathes heavily through his nose, trying to catch his breath.
“That’s what you get for bringing in new clients,” he says as he collapses next to Mike, his voice muffled by Mike’s neck and Mike laughs.
“Pretty effective motivational tool,” he says and Harvey lifts his head.
“This doesn’t go into work,” he says, his voice serious, his hand still on Mike’s stomach.
“I get that,” Mike replies, shifting slightly, stretching out his now aching muscles.
“I mean it,” Harvey says, pressing his hand into Mike’s skin and Mike stops stretching and looks up into serious brown eyes.
“I get it,” he says, “I’m not going to run into Rachel’s office tomorrow and go ‘oh guess what, I’m got fucked by Har unf…” Harvey silences him with his mouth, snaking one arm around his waist and splaying his fingers out across his lower back, pulling them together. “…vey last night.’ I’m not a girl,” he finishes when Harvey lets him go.
“I don’t want you strutting round the office like you own the place just because you’re sleeping with the boss,” Harvey says.
“’Sleeping’ would imply more than once…” Mike replies then his brain catches up with him (epic sex will do that to you), “hey I do not strut,” he’s pretty sure he’s pouting right now and Harvey leans forward and nibbles on his lower lip.
“You do,” Harvey says, pressing their hips together and Mike loses his mind for a second.
“No I...”
“Shut up Mike,” Harvey says, good naturedly and pushes Mike down into the mattress.
“But I...” Harvey cuts him off again by kissing him, driving his hips down and if Mike hadn’t come twice in an hour he would be hard again already. Harvey then rolls them both until Mike is splayed out over his broad chest.
“Mike...go to sleep,” he mutters, his fingers drawing circles on Mike’s lower back.
Its a testament to how deep he’s already in with Harvey that Mike shuts up and actually goes to sleep with Harvey’s heartbeat loud in his ear.
Chapter 2
Anyway. Here goes.
(Title from Hoobastank's song "Inside Of You").
He thinks he might be well and truly screwed. Or smoked too much pot way back when, before Harvey had swooped in like a White Knight and put a stop to all that. The thing is, Mike is, when you get down to it, all things considered…
…in love with one Harvey Specter.
Ok so maybe not love, maybe obsession, infatuation, completely and utterly bowled over by...
Oh fuck it, who is he kidding. It’s totally love.
And its not normal either, and not just because Harvey is a guy. And his boss. And an arrogant asshole. He also knows exactly what buttons to push and how to push them to turn Mike into a gibbering wreck using nothing more than a finger under his chin and a few well chosen words.
Mike is Harvey’s bitch and Harvey is well aware of it.
He can’t remember when he became the sort of person who craves discipline, who shudders at the thought of the hickey under his collar that Harvey gave him when he’s done something particularly good, or the punishing bruises around his hips when he’s fucked up, again. One might blame his lack of father figure or some pseudo psychoanalytical bullshit like that.
But really what it comes down to is that Harvey gets what Harvey wants.
Mike remembers clearly the first time he felt anything other than vague hero worship for the guy, overhearing him say “good boy” in that dark tone of his that he only uses now in private, or when he’s teaching Mike a lesson in public and wants to torment him to the point of insanity (which he does frequently because he’s an evil bastard). Anyway, Mike’s stomach had cramped at that and after, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head, or the notion that maybe, if he worked hard enough, Harvey would say it again.
Things really escalate from there.
He’s hungover when it happens again, feeling like shit as Harvey’s office spins in his vision and the smell of coffee wafting from the two Styrofoam mugs in front of him makes him feel a little sick. For once though, he’s in before Harvey and that has to count for something right?
“Morning Puppy,” Harvey sounds entirely too chipper for this early in the morning and Mike resists the urge to slam his pounding, spinning head against the seemingly smudge proof glass desk that sits in the middle of Harvey’s office (how is it always so clean?), “how’s that pretty head of yours?” He asks, shouting directly into Mike’s ear. Well, talking loudly enough so as not to ruffle his immaculate image, directly into Mike’s ear. Mike groans in response and Harvey’s fingers slide across the back of his neck. Mike shivers and he’s more than happy to blame that one on the alcohol leaving his system, thank you very much.
“Lesson number 5,256 Mikey, never get drunk with clients.”
“You told me to,” Mike protests weakly because honestly he doesn’t think his head can take anything other than weakly right now. Harvey smirks and sits in the chair that probably cost more than Mike’s monthly rent, blows gently on the coffee and takes a sip, smiling in pure bliss as the caffeine works its way into his veins. The smile is one that Mike rarely sees, a real smile, even though it’s small. The ones he usually throws at Mike are tinged with a smirk.
“No, I told you to entertain them,” he says after he swallows and Mike must still be drunk because he watched the movement of Harvey’s throat with a fascination that only a drunk man trying to read a label on a bottle of beer can have. “Do I need to teach you a lesson in listening to every word I say?” Harvey raises an eyebrow questioningly and Mike swallows the lump that has inexplicably formed in his throat.
“But…you…” He starts and Harvey leans forward, resting his chin between his thumb and index finger.
“Do I need to teach you a lesson, Michael?” And there it is, that dark tone again but this time it’s no where near pleased and Mike swallows again and tugs at his collar which suddenly seems far too tight. He resists the urge to shudder and scream God yes please.
Yup, still drunk.
“No,” he says instead and he almost catches a glimpse of disappointment in Harvey’s face before the immaculate mask is back in places and he raises an eyebrow, leaning back in the chair and crossing a leg over his knee.
“Good boy.”
Mike doesn’t miss the dangerous glint in Harvey’s eyes, or the way his own stomach cramps up again. What the fuck is wrong with him? It should be patronising, and a little bit terrifying but its making Mike’s skin tingle and he can still feel Harvey’s fingers on his neck.
He’s so screwed.
“Right, hand me that case file, the clients that I entertained last night whilst you were getting fucked…although not in the right way…want a draft agreement by this afternoon so…”
The rest of whatever Harvey says drifts over his head and Mike tries to swallow down the urge to bolt from the office, either that, or vomit.
He hasn’t decided yet.
...
“Harvey needs you,” Mike looks up from his desk to see Rachel smiling down at him.
“Does he really?” He asks, “Or is this another plot to whisk me out of the office for a clandestine meeting over weird food?” Rachel crosses her arms, sticks out her hip and rolls her eyes, but to her credit she laughs.
“Do we need to talk about me not dating from the office again? No, Harvey really needs you,” she says, turning on her heel, her long hair spinning out behind her. Mike sits for a second, wondering why Harvey didn’t come and find him himself, throw some spiteful and sarcastic comment at him before turning on his heel and expecting Mike to follow like the little lost puppy that he is. “Now Mike,” Rachel says over her shoulder and Mike jumps, pulls the earbud from his ear and grabs the pile of files sitting on his desk.
Harvey’s on the phone when he gets to his office, pacing the immaculate carpet (honestly do the cleaners only ever vacuum Harvey’s office?), he nods his head in the direction on the chair in front of his desk and Mike throws himself down. He’s fucking tired, can’t remember the last time he slept a decent amount in one go and he zones out listening to Harvey’s arguing beautifully down the phone.
“Working too hard Mike?” Harvey asks, his fingers resting against Mike’s neck. Mike jumps back to attention and Harvey’s fingers stay against his skin as he leans over Mike’s shoulder to look at the files.
“Um…no,” Yeah, way to go Mike, he thinks, that was well answered. Harvey chuckles darkly, curls his fingers against Mike’s neck and Mike arches slightly into the touch. He can’t help that his neck is an erogenous zone for him, it’s not his fault that Harvey’s breath, which smells like coffee by the way, expensive coffee, is hot against his cheek, or that Harvey’s fingers are surprisingly soft, even though there is a hint of power in them as they flex against Mike’s skin. If Harvey notices Mike arching, he doesn’t say anything, just nods to get Mike to open the files.
Harvey takes one look at the papers and nods again, flexing his fingers once more.
“Good, well done,” he says, darkly in Mike’s ear and lets go, straightens up and tugs at his suit as he walks around to sit back into his chair.
Mike feels a flush creep across his cheeks and looks up at Harvey, who’s watching him with an amused yet calculating look.
“Feel free to go back to work Mike, or you could just continue to sit here doing a outstanding impression of a goldfish, either way,” Harvey smirks, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips and Mike watches, licks at his own lips at the same time and sees Harvey’s eyes go dark.
Mike clears his throat and stands.
“Right...back to work...ok,” he stammers and runs from the office.
...
He’s kind of worried, to be honest, that he’s going to slip up one day and fall to his knees and beg Harvey to touch him. He honestly doesn’t know where these thoughts are coming from but they’re there now, stuck inside his head and fuck it, he can’t get them out no matter what.
No amount of beating off in the shower is helping either. Not that he gets more than 2 minutes in the shower what with his love of sleeping and hatred of actually getting out of bed.
But still, Harvey looks good in suits, really good. And slick and Mike wants to be able to make that immaculate wall come down.
Harvey is almost at the dishevelled stage when Mike walks into his office at 10 pm on Friday night. Harvey has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a lock of hair has fallen out from his rock solid coif and is hanging over his forehead. There are wrinkles on his shirt that he would probably rather die than ever admit to having.
He doesn’t even look up at the cursory knock Mike gives.
“Go home Mike,” he says sharply, pinching at the bridge of his nose and staring down at the papers strewn over the floor and the coffee table. Mike shucks off his jacket and folds it over the chair, earning a pleased look from Harvey that all the hours drumming in the importance of looking after your ridiculously expensive suits has paid off.
“What do you need?” he asks, sitting on the floor in front of a pile of paper. Harvey looks relieved for a second, there are rings under his eyes that Mike doesn’t remember seeing this morning.
“Food,” Harvey says, with a small smile.
Three hours later they’re still there, cold pizza (because Harvey let Mike choose and no that didn’t make Mike blush like a 12 year old girl thank you very much), cold coffee (for Harvey) and room temperature Red Bull (for Mike) litter pretty much every surface that isn’t covered with papers. Harvey’s back at his desk and Mike is sitting on the chair in front of it when he punches one fist into the air.
“Yes...I am the King of Loopholes,” he announces and Harvey is by his side in an instant as Mike explains what he’s found. Harvey’s hand is pressing into his shoulder and Mike loses his train of thought when he squeezes gently, thumb running over his pulse point in a way that could be an accident.
“Keep going,” Harvey says when Mike stutters over the words and Mike closes his eyes but carries on speaking.
It almost feels like a test, like Harvey is seeing if Mike will carry on speaking or jump up and scream sexual harassment, or slide off the seat and beg Harvey to fuck him over the smudgeless desk.
And oh my God, where the hell did that thought come from?
“Stop,” Harvey says and Mike does, bites at his bottom lip at Harvey’s hand curls around his neck gently. Harvey’s other hand turns the chair and Mike finds himself staring up at him and suddenly feeling incredibly small.
Harvey narrows his eyes, slides his hand around Mike’s neck until its cupping at his face, his thumb dragging over Mike’s cheekbone, down, across his jaw and up to the corner of his mouth. Harvey’s hand stills there and Mike opens his mouth slightly.
The exhalation of breath from Harvey is almost as rewarding as bringing in his first client in his first month. Harvey’s hand is large enough that his fingers curl around the back of Mike’s neck and he tugs.
“Stand up,” His voice sounds like he’s been shouting for hours and Mike, because he’s lame and pathetic, can’t help but obey and stands, his legs shaking slightly.
So lame.
Harvey’s other hand cups his face now and he drags his thumbs across both cheekbones and under his chin, tipping Mike’s head back and he steps in closer. Harvey’s mouth is mere inches away and Mike licks his lips, parting them and Harvey’s eyes flick down to watch. Harvey moves in closer and Mike readies himself for finally finding out if Harvey tastes of coffee, mint or whiskey, or something else entirely.
“Go home Mike,” Harvey lets him go suddenly and Mike stumbles forward, Harvey’s hand flat against his chest the only thing stopping him from faceplanting into the piles of paper and the un-vacuumed carpet (when the hell do the cleaners clean?).
“Wha?” He asks and Harvey runs a hand through his hair, there’s a faint blush across the bridge of his nose and his eyes look darker than usual and he doesn’t look at Mike as he sits back in his chair and spins it to face the window.
“Go home. Get some sleep, I’ll see you on Monday morning,” Harvey’s tone leaves no room for arguing, as per usual and Mike is still scratching his head as he slides into a cab and rests his head against the window.
...
Mike tries to be normal on Monday morning, making it in before Harvey, although that is massively out of the ordinary and Donna raises her eyebrows knowingly as he slips into Harvey’s office and deposits his coffee onto the coaster (again, out of the ordinary cos he usually just dumps it on the desk and waits for Harvey’s huff of annoyance).
His stomach is churning and he feels light headed and wishes that this phase he’s going through right now would just stop, cease and desist because its starting to affect his daily life, what with every free minute being spent thinking about the way Harvey’s hand had seemed to fit perfectly against his face.
God Dammit.
“Morning Rookie,” Harvey sounds normal, his usual arrogant, ass hole-ish self but Mike can feel the shift in their “relationship” (or whatever the fuck this twisted thing that has Mike wanting to do anything to get Harvey to touch him again is) the second Harvey’s heavy gaze lands on him. He raises an eyebrow at the coffee sitting on the desk and Mike sits up to attention.
“No cream, two sugars, from that shop down the block,” he says and nearly smacks himself around the back of the head.
Way to sound like a desperate crush addled teenager Mike.
“Wow, if I had known that all it took to get you to be my bitch was to touch you, I would have done it weeks again,” Harvey snarks, sipping at his coffee and Mike chokes on his own saliva.
Smooth.
“Um...” Mike pulls at his collar and Harvey slaps at his hand. Mike drops it immediately and curses himself for being so predictably pathetic. Harvey smirks again.
“Harvey...” Mike wants to small his head against the nearest hard surface because he sounds desperate, his voice breathy and Harvey smirks wider, presses a hand on the top of the chair Mike’s sitting in, and leans forward, towering over Mike in way that’s meant to be intimidating. Except it fails and becomes massively erotic.
“Personally Mike, I am partial to Sir but I think we need to work up to that, don’t you?” Harvey sounds amused but there is a hint of darkness in his tone that makes Mike swallows hard.
“Harvey, Mr Fijuki on line two,” Donna’s tinny voice comes over the intercom and Harvey stands straight, waves his hand in the direction of the door and Mike practically trips over his own feet and ignores Donna’s amused expression as he hurries to his cubicle.
...
Harvey catches him blissfully alone next time, down in the archive room between two shelves of boxes and it smells like paper and Harvey and Mike…
Is getting ahead of himself.
Mike is working, doing some menial task for Louis, because he basically bribed Mike again and its late and Mike has a headache building at the back of his eyes.
He’s blaming that for switching off and not noticing the second Harvey enters the room.
“What are you still doing here?” Harvey says and Mike jumps slightly, a piece of paper he’s reading slips out of his hand and he spins around to catch the brief smirk on Harvey’s face.
“Doing the job you gave me and I love with all my heart,” he replies sarcastically and Harvey is suddenly close behind him, reaching around in front of him to grab the file from his hands. Harvey’s breath is warm against his neck and Mike wants to lean back against him and go to sleep forever.
“This is for Louis,” Harvey says, and its posed as a question except they both know the answer. Mike nods anyway and Harvey’s cheek slides against Mike’s.
The file leaves his hand and Harvey’s firm grip on his shoulder spins him around till he’s facing Harvey. Mike finds the knot on Harvey’s tie fascinating until Harvey’s fingers crook under his chin and lift his head up.
“Do I need to remind you who you work for, Mike?” He says quietly. There’s a hint of amusement in his voice, a hint of danger too and Mike swallows (when did he start swallowing so much?), “do I?”
Harvey is only an inch taller, at the most, but standing there, with his throat bared and Harvey standing at full height, Mike feels small and helpless and he’s not entirely adverse to the feeling, truth be told. Harvey must pick something up from him, whether it’s the way Mike licks at his lips, or the fact that he can’t help his hips from canting forward slightly, seeking any friction at all (because his dick is suddenly very interested), Mike doesn’t care or know. Harvey pushes him backwards until his back hits one of the metal shelves. Its almost hard enough to hurt, the edge is digging into his back and that sends another interested pulse down to his traitorous dick.
When the hell did he get so kinky?
“No,” he manages to say and Harvey steps closer, presses a thigh to Mike’s crotch and Mike sees stars.
He may or may not groan, he’s taking the Fifth on that one.
Harvey winds his fingers into Mike’s hand and lifts it above his head, pressing it into the shelf in a way that Mike gets the unsaid “don’t move”. The other hand is lifted and Harvey wraps his fingers around Mike’s wrists, brushing over his pulse.
“Leave them there,” he says quietly and Mike can only nod dumbly as Harvey lets his wrists go and trails a hand down the bare skin of his forearm, “you work for me,” he says as his fingers reach the crook of Mike’s elbow.
“I know,” Mike replies and Harvey pulls his hand away. Mike wants to bite off his tongue and press Harvey’s hand back to his skin. Harvey’s eyes narrow.
“No talking,” he says and Mike nods again, clenching his hands together to stop himself from tugging Harvey close and rutting up against his thigh like a bitch in heat.
Wow, there really is something wrong with him.
Harvey’s palms are warm and dry against his cheeks, the pads of his thumbs soft against the smooth skin under Mike’s eyes. One travels down Mike’s face, over the day old stubble (because he forgot to bring his razor into work again) and across his parted lips. Mike can’t help but flick his tongue against the digit and Harvey’s nostrils twitch and his eyelids flutter. He feels a swell of pride at that, he made Harvey’s mask slip even if for just a second.
Harvey comes closer, shifts his thigh and Mike shuts his eyes and groans, because its no where near enough pressure yet he feels like he’s about to explode.
“Look at me,” Harvey says and Mike snaps his eyes open. Harvey’s eyes are dark, they slope downwards in a way that should make them look kind but at the moment he looks anything but.
Mike’s hands are beginning to tingle as the blood flows down his arms. Harvey moves one hand and presses it into Mike’s hip, digs his fingers in slightly and Mike moves, trying to get closer but Harvey’s grip is strong. His hand on Mike’s face moves, curls around his neck and tugs him closer, until Harvey is out of focus and all Mike can see is a blur of tanned skin. Harvey’s breath is warm against Mike’s lips and Mike parts them, breathes out with a noise that might possibly be a “please”, and then Harvey’s lips are pressed against them.
Its almost chaste, just a press of mouths, but Mike can feel the way Harvey’s fingers tighten at the back of his neck and at his hips, the way Harvey’s shifts his thigh again. Mike moans into Harvey’s mouth and Harvey pushes his tongue in, licking at the roof of Mike’s mouth and digging his thumb into the soft flesh under Mike’s chin.
Mike should have known that Harvey would be an outstanding kisser. He gives off that aura and Mike has, more than once, found himself wondering what it would be like.
Reality? Ten thousand times better.
He’s firm, with a hard grip around Mike’s neck and hip, but there’s a softness underneath it that has Mike’s knees shaking and he keeps shifting his thigh against Mike’s dick and is driving him kind of crazy. Harvey gives one last shift of his thigh and then he pulls away. Mike must look like an idiot because he’s pretty sure he tries to chase Harvey’s mouth with his own and his eyes are still shut and he’s more than likely gaping like a, well as Harvey so succinctly put it, goldfish.
Harvey runs his thumb over Mike’s lips again, and it slides easily this time, through their saliva and it shouldn’t be hot, but somehow, Harvey’s heavy gaze makes it the hottest thing Mike has ever felt.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Harvey says, dropping his hand from Mike’s face, squeezing once at his hip. He shoves his hands into his pockets and gets halfway to the door before Mike has enough brain power to speak.
“Seriously? After that you’re just going to leave?” he asks and Harvey doesn’t even turn, just pulls the door open.
“Goodnight Mike,” he throws over his shoulder as the door slams behind him. Mike lets his head fall back against the shelf, rubs absently at his wrist and flexes his fingers in an attempt to ward off the pins and needles he can feel beginning in the tips. His hip is throbbing dully where Harvey’s fingers pressed in and Mike is pretty sure he’s going to have finger shaped bruises there tomorrow.
And he doesn’t know if that should make him feel incredibly turned on or hugely worried at his own mental state.
He’s just about settled on a mixture of both as he finally leaves the building and heads home, weaving through the traffic until he pulls up outside his apartment block, heads up the stairs and falls into bed and a blissfully dreamless sleep.
…
Harvey pretty much ignores him the next day, only barking orders at him until even Donna notices and asks what the hell he’s done to upset Harvey.
The day after it’s the same and its driving Mike crazy because he can still feel Harvey’s mouth against his own and the way Harvey’s hands felt when they brushed against his wrists.
Mike is starting to wonder if perhaps he’s done something wrong, something to make Harvey back off, he hasn’t even smirked at Mike in two days and Mike is feeling the absence like a punch in the gut.
Yes, he’s well aware that makes him sound like a teenage girl, thank you.
Problem is he can’t help himself, and actually now it’s making him pissed more than anything.
It’s only until three days later when Louis is being an ass (nothing unusual there) and Mike snaps and calls him on it that Harvey actually graces him with anything other than contempt.
His hand clamps onto Mike’s shoulder as he storms from Louis’s office and steers him towards the bathroom. To anyone watching it might look like Harvey is just about to berate Mike (again not unusual) but Mike can feel the way Harvey’s fingers tighten slightly when Mike resists and lets out a startled “what the?” Harvey pushes him inside, locks the door and shoves him up against the nearest hard surface, which happens to be a stall door. Mike groans as his head hits the wood with a dull thud and Harvey smirks as he crowds into Mike and kisses him until Mike can’t see straight or remember his own name.
“What was that for?” Mike asks when Harvey lets him go (and he remembers how to actually speak) and tugs his impeccable suit back into position.
“You earned that,” Harvey says, stepping far enough away that Mike can’t feel his body heat, but keeping a firm grip on Mike’s arm.
“So...let me get this straight,” Mike says, “you only kiss me when I do something right? And snapping at Louis is a good thing?” Harvey raises an eyebrow at him and snakes a hand out to straighten Mike’s tie.
“That’s about it,” he says, his fingers trailing over Mike’s neck and Mike swallows against Harvey’s fingers.
“But,” Mike runs a hand through his hair and Harvey frowns, reaches out and smoothes it down again, cocking his head to the side as he does it.
“It’s not complicated Mike,” he says in a voice that sounds like he’s talking to a five year old, “try to keep up,” he pats at Mike’s chest, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“So...” Mike begins slowly and Harvey leans in closer, cups Mike’s face and runs his thumb down Mike’s jaw, “shouting at Louis is good. What do I get for bringing a client on board?” Harvey chuckles slightly, his breath hot against Mike’s neck, and he licks at Mike’s skin. Mike shudders.
“That gets you sex,” Harvey says quietly, his hand pressing into Mike’s hip, keeping him pressed into the stall door. Mike’s feels a surge of arousal at that and his brain goes somewhere in the vicinity of holy crap sex with Harvey can’t cope.
“...and what if I get something wrong?” he manages to ask as Harvey kisses along his jaw and at the corner of his mouth. Harvey pulls back enough to speak the next words into Mike’s mouth.
“That gets you punished,” Harvey pulls completely away and it shouldn’t be hot, it shouldn’t make Mike’s dick interested at his thinly veiled threat, but it is, and it does, and Mike is more than screwed.
He’s totally fucked.
“Ok then,” he nods and Harvey smiles dangerously, flicks the lock on the door and leaves Mike standing there with a half hard dick and a sudden burning passion to bring in as many new clients as possible.
...
Over the next few days, due to the powerful allure of sex with Harvey Specter, Mike manages to secure another client all by himself (some tech genius who claims to have the next Facebook) and Jessica springs for a celebratory drink in the bar opposite the building for them.
Louis is there scowling and Mike dragged Rachel for moral support who is sitting bolt upright clutching at her drink looking decidedly uncomfortable about sitting with the Partners. Mike kicks her gently under the table and grins and he’s rewarded with a smile back.
Mike’s slightly buzzed, nowhere near drunk, but he’s drunk enough that his brain is nicely quiet for once and his thigh tingles from where Harvey’s is pressed up against his under the table.
Jessica stays the obligatory hour before slipping away and Louis stays approximately five minutes longer.
“Come on Mike, lets share a cab,” Rachel says, then downs the rest of her drink. Mike hesitates, and he feels Harvey’s thigh muscle shift next to his and a strong hand lands on his.
“Mike and I need to go through a case,” Harvey says and Rachel blinks at him but doesn’t argue. She leans down and kisses Mikes cheek, whispers “well done” in his ear before grabbing her coat and leaving.
Before leaving Mike. Alone. With Harvey.
Not a good idea.
“What case?” Mike says, pushing himself up and Harvey’s thighs slides against his own.
“There is no case,” Harvey says pointedly, staring at Mike with those brown eyes. Mike shifts, tugs at his tie and Harvey stops him, wraps his fingers around Mike’s hand and pulls it down.
“Ahh so the case is a lie?” Mike snickers and Harvey rolls his eyes, gestures at the waiter who brings over their jackets and takes the cash left by Jessica.
“Get up,” Harvey says and Mike tries not to jump up as soon as the words are out of Harvey’s mouth. He tries, but he fails, and Harvey curls the side of his mouth in a knowing smile as he stalks towards the door of the bar, Mike trails pathetically behind.
Harvey’s limo is conveniently waiting outside, and Ray nods at Mike as Harvey opens the door and slides in.
“Get in the car Mike,” he says from the inside and Mike’s insides flop around like he had a bad the burrito for breakfast. He rubs at the back of his neck suddenly nervous, Harvey’s words that gets you sex sounding loud and clear in his head.
“That’s ok I have my bike and…” Mike trails off at Harvey’s raised eyebrow.
“Get. In. The. Car, Michael,” he says, low and dangerous and Mike can’t really refuse that can he?
“Ok, getting in,” he says going towards the door.
“Other side,” Harvey snaps as he slams the door and narrowly avoids cutting off Mike’s fingers in the process.
“So...” Mike starts sliding into the car.
“Shut up Mike,” Harvey says and Mike does.
There’s a sort of vibrating silence in the back of the car and it makes Mike feel like a kid at Christmas, waiting silently whilst his parents decide when to give him presents and that thought is just weird now because he can’t get the image of Harvey wearing a Santa’s outfit out of his head.
He snorts and Harvey throws him a glare across the empty space between them.
“Sorry,” he mutters and Harvey’s hand lands heavily on his thigh. Harvey doesn’t flinch, just continues looking forward, the only outward sign he’s doing anything other than sitting in a car being driving to his no doubt outrageously expensive apartment is the slight twitch in his jaw when Mike shifts his legs open.
Mike can’t help it, its really not his fault. Harvey’s hand is warm and solid and his fingers are playing against the inseam of his pants and really, its not fair that Harvey should have this affect on him, not when he’s his boss. And a guy. And an asshole.
“What do you get for bringing a client on board Mike?” Harvey asks, his fingers tightening against Mike’s thigh and Mike throws a glance at the screen between them and Ray, and thankfully, its up.
“Um...sex?” Mike answers and Harvey nods. His hand leaves Mike’s thigh and he crooks a finger at him. Mike scoots a little closer, his heart thumping in his chest.
“Good boy,” Harvey mutters, running a hand through Mike’s hair and gripping at the back of his head. He tugs gently, leans forward and licks a stripe up Mike’s neck as Ray pulls the car in front of Harvey’s apartment.
Harvey lets him go and slips out of the car and, surprisingly (so surprisingly that Mike actually freezes for a second) Harvey holds his hand out for Mike to help him out of the car.
His hand is warm as Mike curls his fingers around Harveys, and has a sudden urge to feel those hands against his chest.
“Goodnight Ray,” Harvey says and Ray smiles back at him and nods goodnight.
“How long are these briefs going to take cos I need to get to my own place,” Mike makes his voice louder hoping that Ray will hear and Harvey chuckles, lets go of his hand and places it on Mike’s lower back, steering him towards the building.
“He’s been my driver for eight years, Rookie, you think me taking home my associate is the worst thing he’s ever seen?”
“So you take home associates a lot then?” Mike asks as Harvey punches in the code to get the elevator moving and pushes Mike back against the glass wall, working his hands up under Mike’s jacket.
“No,” Harvey says simply, mouthing at Mike’s neck and he really needs to stop doing that because it’s all going to be over far too quickly is Harvey keeps sucking on his skin like that.
“So I’m the first then?” Mike can’t help but ask and Harvey worries the skin of Mike’s neck gently between his teeth before pulling away and looking at him with an amused expression. Mike squirms under the scrutiny and fiddles with the end of Harvey’s tie. Harvey’s gaze flicks down to Mike’s fingers twirling his vastly expensive tie and then back up to Mike’s face.
“I thought you had more brains than that,” he says cryptically as the elevator stops and the doors slide open and Mike forgets how to breathe for a second.
“Holy...shit,” he breathes out and Harvey lets out a laugh, heading off in one direction as Mike heads towards the enormous windows. Not that they can really be described as windows, more like glass walls. Mike presses his hands against them and looks out and down, savouring the slight sway of vertigo he gets from looking down on heights. “I do not want to know how much this costs a month,” he says and feels Harvey’s hands on his shoulders, pulling off his jacket. Mike stands up straight and lets Harvey slide it down his arms.
“No, you really don’t,” Harvey replies, his fingers tugging Mike’s already loosened tie over his head. His arms are warm around Mike as he undoes the buttons on Mike’s shirt, his mouth hot and wet against Mike’s neck, licking at the mark he already placed there and for some reason that makes Mike incredibly turned on. The tips of Harvey’s fingers graze down Mike’s arms as he slips that off as well and it joins Mike’s jacket over the arm of the Italian couch.
And then its Harvey’s hands against Mike’s skin and Mike thinks he might be more than happy to die right now. Harvey’s hand presses into his stomach, his palm flat, finger splaying out and pulls them together. Mike knows he’s already half hard, from the heavy petting in the elevator, but he’s almost surprised to feel Harvey in exactly the same predicament. He shifts back against him and Harvey’s hisses his breath in, curling his fingers against Mike’s stomach.
Mike moans, arches his hips forward and Harvey pulls him back.
“Easy,” he whispers into Mike’s ear and Mike goes still as Harvey unbuckles Mike’s belt and pants. “Put your hands against the window,” Harvey says and Mike does it without thinking, leans forward slightly and presses his palms to the cool glass. “You did good today, Mike,” Harvey is saying, working his hand into the front of Mike’s pants and he could be reciting the whole of Louis’s latest brief for all Mike cares, as long as his voice keeps muttering darkly in his ear and his hand keeps on going.
Harvey stills just shy of where Mike wants him to be and Mike whines, pressing his hips forward.
“You want this?” Harvey asks, twitching his fingers against Mike’s skin, “tell me,” Harvey rolls his hips against Mike’s.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Mike replies, pressing back against him and gritting his teeth in frustration at the lack of sex that’s going on right now.
Mike finds himself with his back flat against the glass and his vision full of Harvey. Harvey’s eyes have gone dark and his grip around Mike’s arms is just this side of painful.
There’s a split second where Mike considers keeping his mouth shut and seeing how far he can push the anger that seems to be boiling up inside Harvey but Harvey pushes his hand back into Mike’s pants and all thoughts of defiance fly out of his head as Harvey finally gets his hand around Mike’s dick.
“Oh fuck, I want this,” he mutters, letting his head fall back against the window and Harvey’s mouth attaches to his neck again. He twists his hand and Mike groans again, chasing the pull of Harvey’s hands with his hips. Harvey kisses him then, licks into his mouth and twists his hand almost savagely and the mixture of the soft kiss and the harsh twist has Mike’s brain short circuiting.
“Good,” Harvey says against Mike’s mouth, “now you’ll come when I tell you to,” Mike whimpers as Harvey squeezes at the base of his dick and the dark thrill of Harvey’s words sends blood shooting right down to his crotch and he feels light headed and clutches at Harvey’s shoulders, “got that?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mike mutters, his nails snagging on Harvey’s suit. Harvey chuckles, twists his hand again and drags it up Mike’s dick slowly, thumbing over the slit and Mike’s knees nearly give way.
“No Mike,” Harvey says, pressing in closer and mouthing along his jaw, “we’ve been through this, its Harvey, or Sir.”
Mike can feel it building, the insistent stroking from Harvey and the dark words whispered against his skin, the feel of Harvey’s stubble rasping against his jawline and Mike can feel his orgasm building low in his stomach. He bites down on his bottom lip and presses his hands to Harvey’s shoulders and Harvey stills again.
“Not yet Rookie,” he says and Mike takes a deep breath through his nose as Harvey’s hand just holds on, warm and solid and knowing and Mike doesn’t really want to think about other people that have been in the same position with Harvey.
“You are a sadistic bastard,” Mike mutters and Harvey runs his thumb down Mike’s throat. Mike swallows and Harvey kisses at the hollow at the base of Mike’s throat.
“You have no idea,” he says and it makes Mike’s blood run cold. Harvey starts moving his hand again, twisting on the upstroke and Mike really isn’t sure how much longer he can last. Harvey drags their mouths together and ruts up against Mike’s thigh, his hand not faltering in its smooth strokes.
“Harvey...” Mike breathes out and even to his own ears it sounds desperate and needy and he can’t remember when he’s ever sounded like that. “God, please.”
“Please what, Mike?” Harvey asks, thumbing at the slit at the tip of Mike’s dick again and the only reason Mike manages to stay upright is because Harvey is pressing so goddam close.
“God I need...I can’t...fuck...” Mike is well aware he’s babbling like a fool and he slips his hands under Harvey’s jacket, feels warm skin and muscles under his fingers.
“Ok Mike, come now,” Harvey says and then bites down on Mike’s collar bone.
Nowhere in the history of Mike’s sexual exploits (which aren’t that numbered but still varied) has Mike ever needed an edge of pain to orgasm. But Harvey’s dark voice and sure hand, the bite to his collar bone all add up to possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. He feels boneless and useless and there is no way in hell he will be able to stand on his own.
“Bedroom,” Harvey orders, wrapping his fingers around Mike’s arms and hauling him upright. Mike’s legs are shaking and Harvey gently pushes him, his hands steering him towards what Mike can only assume is the bedroom. Although it’s not much a room. The glass walls continue in here as well, and Mike briefly wonders how the hell they’re kept so clean, but Harvey pushes between his shoulders and he’s falling face first on to the bed.
“That was uncalled for,” he mutters, lifting his face from the sheets (god they smell good, like Harvey) and glaring at Harvey. Harvey raises an eyebrow and slips out of his jacket and waistcoat.
Mike’s seen Harvey without the jacket on, but never in just a shirt and he never thought a shirt would be sexy, but, holy crap, it is. It stretches gently over Harvey’s chest and biceps, gathers in slightly at the waist and Mike’s mouth waters. He moves, twists his body round and reaches out, his fingers hovering over the buttons. Harvey looks down at him, cups his face and lifts his head, sliding his thumb across the hickey over his pulse and the bite mark on his collar bone.
What Mike really wants to do is rip the shirt open and bite at Harvey’s skin, but he thinks Harvey might chuck him down the elevator shaft if he does that, those shirts are probably worth more than his life. His hands shake slightly as he undoes the buttons one by one, grazing his knuckles against Harvey’s chest. Harvey’s face doesn’t change, his jaw clenches though, muscles quivering under his skin and his fingers keep stroking at Mike’s neck.
Mike gets the shirt undone, slides his palms around Harvey’s waist, pulls him forward and presses a kiss to Harvey’s flat stomach. He feels the muscles shift under his lips as Harvey shucks off his shirt.
Mike’s finding a lot recently that reality is better than fantasy and Harvey, half naked, is no exception. He hovers his hands over Harvey’s belt and looks up at him.
“Can I?” he asks and he doesn’t know why he feels the need to, just that something in his gut tells him to, and the reward for doing so it Harvey hauling him to his feet and crushing their mouths together, so hard Mike swears he can almost taste blood.
When he’s finished devouring Mike he pushes on his shoulder and Mike sits down heavily on the bed.
“You’re learning Rookie,” he says with something akin to pride, then his eyes darken and his grasp on Mike’s shoulder tightens, “do it.” Mike feels a swell of pride at the fact that he sounds utterly wrecked right now. Mike unclasps the belt, draws it out of the loops one by one and by the time he’s finished Harvey’s breathing is ragged and Mike can’t get his pants undone fast enough. He slides his hands down Harvey’s thighs as he pushes pants and boxers down, the skin smooth under his palms. Then he’s face to face with Little Harvey.
Well, not so little actually. It’s bigger than he expected (there he goes again with reality versus fantasy), hard and smooth and there’s a drop of pre-cum on the tip
Mike licks his lips and leans forward, pressing his mouth to the top of Harvey’s thigh. Harvey slides his hand into Mike’s hair and grips a handful. There’s that sharp edge of pain again and Mike licks a long stripe up the underside of Harvey’s dick, pressing his tongue into the slit and Harvey groans.
Its been a while since Mike has done this (a few fumbled times in college, one or twice with Trevor when they’ve been monumentally high, and that one time when Mike was desperate for weed and…lets just say that was a low point for Mike), but he’s finding its kind of like riding a bike. Except this bike is bigger than normal, and attached to his boss.
Mike takes the opportunity to swallow Harvey down whole whilst he’s dragging in a deep breath and Harvey practically chokes, his grip tightening in Mike’s hair as Mike hums around him.
Harvey is heavy on his tongue, the skin smooth and hot and Mike is blessed (most would say) with a weak gag reflex. He straightens out his neck and swallows, pulling Harvey’s hips closer, till his nose is practically buried in the dark hair on Harvey’s stomach. Harvey’s grip in his hair tightens even more as he pushes his hips forward, Mike hums again and Harvey mutters a soft curse, letting go with one hand and running it down the back of Mike’s neck.
The combination of the gentle hand at his neck, the strong grip on his hair and Harvey using Mike’s mouth the way Harvey wants to makes Mike’s eyes water and he grips at Harvey’s hips, briefly wondering what the bruises will look like tomorrow morning.
Mike can feel the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes and Harvey rubs his thumbs across his cheeks, smearing them into the skin as he hauls Mike to his feet and kisses him hard, murmuring “so good” against his mouth. He kicks his pants off and out of the way.
Harvey braces his hands on Mike’s chest and shoves him down onto the bed again. Mike doesn’t even have a chance to protest before Harvey is on him, pressing him into the mattress and the $1000 sheets and kissing him again, all tongue and teeth and its one of the hottest things Mike has ever felt. He’s still hard, Mike can feel his dick against his stomach, and he can taste the salt from Harvey’s pre-cum and from the sweat on his lips.
“Over,” Harvey orders and forcibly flips Mike onto his front. Harvey runs a hand down his back, pausing over bumps of Mike’s spine and the scar that Mike got from falling off his bike when he was eight. Harvey leans down and kisses along his spine, his tongue hot and wet against his skin.
Harvey’s hands worm under him and grips round his hips, pull him onto all fours and he plasters himself along Mike’s back.
“Top drawer Mike,” he says and Mike doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles forward, pulls open the drawer and fumbles around till his hand closes over a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. Harvey takes them from his hand and Mike hears the flip of the bottle just before he feels a cool, slick finger circling round his hole. Mike sucks in a breath, pushes his hips back because he’s had enough of foreplay, but Harvey’s grip on his hips stop him.
“Easy, Rookie,” Harvey says again and then there’s slight pressure and he’s pushing a finger in slow fucking slowly Mike thinks he might go mad. He must whine because Harvey runs a hand down his spine again and shushes him, his breath hot against Mike’s ear. The finger inside him curls and pulls back out and when it pushes back in there’s another one.
“Come on,” Mike urges. It’s been a while, he can count on one hand how many times he’s done this, but Mike knows what he wants, knows what he needs and right now he needs Harvey’s dick inside him.
“So pushy,” Harvey mutters, and Mike hears the metallic rip of the condom packet, “might have to nip that in the bud, remind you who’s in charge here,” he says, pressing his hips forward and Mike can feel the tip of Harvey’s dick pushing against his hole. If Harvey’s grip on his hips wasn’t as strong as it was, Mike would have pushed back by now but Harvey holds him steady, pushes agonisingly slowly inside till his hips are pressed up tight against Mike’s. They both groan, Mikes a little more wanton and porn like than Harvey’s. Harvey usually holds himself together when Mike is more ready to strike out, to act on his impulses.
Harvey doesn’t waste any time setting an rhythm and its almost harsh, but Mike loves the sound of skin slapping together, the feel of Harvey’s hand sliding through the sweat on his back, and the fact that they are doing this in front of giant windows adds to the thrill. Harvey doesn’t talk, Mike didn’t expect him to be a talker, but he makes little choked noises that makes him sound like he’s dying, cut off groans in the back of his throat when Mike clenches his muscles around him and Harvey’s hands are hard around his hips, pressing into the tender almost bruises from earlier.
Harvey reaches a hand, slick with lube, between them and wraps his fingers around Mike’s dick and Mike’s surprised to find he’s hard again. Harvey shifts, and drives in and holy shit that feels good.
Harvey lets out a noise that may be a laugh and Mike knows he said that out loud. Harvey’s grip around his dick is slick but hard and he twists his hand as he drives in, strokes upwards as he pulls out and Mike can’t think straight, squeezes his eyes shut as Harvey’s rhythm gets almost erratic. He grunts, pulls out completely, hooks a hand between Mike’s thighs and flips him onto his back, lifts his thighs up and pushes back in. He leans down, driving his hips in and tangles his fingers in Mike’s hair again, kissing him hard and Mike tastes sweat again.
Harvey comes with a grunt, a muffled shout and his lip caught between his teeth, driving up hard into Mike and hitting that spot again. His fingers clench around Mike’s dick then move, sliding up as Harvey drives his hips in again and then Mike, to his utmost surprise, is coming again, hot and sticky over his own stomach.
There’s a stillness after sex that Mike loves, the moment just after orgasm when the whole world seems to stop and its just him and Harvey, their breathing heavy and Harvey’s fingers sliding absently through Mike’s come. Mike feels boneless, utterly fucked out and comfortably numb, but he hisses slightly as Harvey pulls out. Harvey leans down and kisses him once, just a press of lips as he breathes heavily through his nose, trying to catch his breath.
“That’s what you get for bringing in new clients,” he says as he collapses next to Mike, his voice muffled by Mike’s neck and Mike laughs.
“Pretty effective motivational tool,” he says and Harvey lifts his head.
“This doesn’t go into work,” he says, his voice serious, his hand still on Mike’s stomach.
“I get that,” Mike replies, shifting slightly, stretching out his now aching muscles.
“I mean it,” Harvey says, pressing his hand into Mike’s skin and Mike stops stretching and looks up into serious brown eyes.
“I get it,” he says, “I’m not going to run into Rachel’s office tomorrow and go ‘oh guess what, I’m got fucked by Har unf…” Harvey silences him with his mouth, snaking one arm around his waist and splaying his fingers out across his lower back, pulling them together. “…vey last night.’ I’m not a girl,” he finishes when Harvey lets him go.
“I don’t want you strutting round the office like you own the place just because you’re sleeping with the boss,” Harvey says.
“’Sleeping’ would imply more than once…” Mike replies then his brain catches up with him (epic sex will do that to you), “hey I do not strut,” he’s pretty sure he’s pouting right now and Harvey leans forward and nibbles on his lower lip.
“You do,” Harvey says, pressing their hips together and Mike loses his mind for a second.
“No I...”
“Shut up Mike,” Harvey says, good naturedly and pushes Mike down into the mattress.
“But I...” Harvey cuts him off again by kissing him, driving his hips down and if Mike hadn’t come twice in an hour he would be hard again already. Harvey then rolls them both until Mike is splayed out over his broad chest.
“Mike...go to sleep,” he mutters, his fingers drawing circles on Mike’s lower back.
Its a testament to how deep he’s already in with Harvey that Mike shuts up and actually goes to sleep with Harvey’s heartbeat loud in his ear.
Chapter 2