Archive of Our Own

The restaurant might be buzzing with the life of a hundred insufferable egos, every patron an excited lawyer, but Mike sits slumped in his chair, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Why are you so tired?” Harvey says.

“I was up all night working on the Henley case for you, remember? The way I feel right now I won’t make it through the ceremony tonight without passing out face down in my beef bourguignon.”

Harvey rolls his eyes. It’s not a big deal if Mike doesn’t attend this afternoon’s what is sure to be incredibly dull seminar on patent monetization, even if he wouldn’t have minded someone to trade murmured barbs with — Harvey would duck out of it himself if it weren’t for the fact that Jessica is speaking and he really should show a bit of solidarity. This whole fucking day is a tiresome burden, but he and Jessica did agree together the firm’s presence at the awards show was a necessity, especially since Pearson Specter is up for several. Harvey’s been nominated for his work on the Janus case, which he hates because Mike’s the one who broke the case. Taking all the credit for what was very much a team effort doesn’t sit right with him, and it was only after a lecture from Jessica, then Donna, then Mike, he agreed to turn up at all.

It wasn’t Harvey’s idea, nor was it Jessica’s, that Mike join the team — a mixture of partners and associates — at the ceremony; Harvey was surprised Mike even wanted to come. But he claimed watching Harvey accept the award, should he win, would be the perfect compensation for not receiving first-hand praise. “It was my gift to you anyway,” Mike said. “I want you to get all the recognition, and I want to cheer you on when you win, which you inevitably will because I’m awesome.”

Even though the event is being held at The Plaza, the firm splashed out on rooms for everyone, mostly so they could attend events during the day and get changed into their evening wear with a minimum of fuss in the evening. Harvey knows from experience anyone planning on attending the infamous post-show party will be crashing at the hotel that night. Not Harvey — gone are the days when getting hammered with a bunch of lawyers he doesn’t even like held the remotest appeal. As soon as the show is over he’ll be collecting his things and heading home to put his feet up with a few cold ones and watch the Knicks game.

He orders Mike back to his room for a nap. “Just make sure you’re ready to leave for the pre-dinner drinks reception at six.”

“Yes sir,” Mike says, saluting him and ducking out of the restaurant quietly. No one notices Mike’s exit except Jessica, who raises an eyebrow but doesn’t seem otherwise concerned.

It’s a long afternoon, made even longer without Mike there to keep him company, although after the seminar something surprising and potentially lucrative happens: Jessica insinuates herself into a conversation with a soap tycoon, improbably named Ernie Suds, who may or may not be looking for new council. It takes every ounce of willpower in Harvey’s being not to laugh out loud when Jessica introduces them. Ernie’s a gruff, humorless man who clearly doesn’t suffer fools, exactly the kind of client Harvey excels at pleasing; guys like this like it when you tell them what they want and so it takes only a couple of pointed observations about Ernie’s current representation for Harvey and Jessica to score a wary invite to pre-pre-dinner drinks at five o’clock in Ernie’s suite.

“We don’t have much time. Go upstairs, get changed, get Mike, see you there. Oh, and tell Louis he needs to be there too.” She gives him one of her stern ‘this better go well or I’ll fuck you up’ looks that always leave Harvey feeling slightly horny, and says, “Don’t be late,” before walking out of the room.

It’s already four thirty.

True to form, Louis wildly overreacts. “I don’t have time to get ready,” he gasps, lip curling in horrified panic. He turns to his companion, says “Excuse me, I have to go right now,” and then dashes out of the room.

With so little time to spare the first thing Harvey needs to do is alert Mike to the change in their schedule; he could still be asleep and will probably want to freshen up with a shower before leaving. Fortunately Harvey doesn’t even need to take a detour because they’ve got adjoining rooms, a convenience he agreed to only because he’s not staying over tonight. So once the main door to his room is closed Harvey heads straight for the connecting door, opens it and walks into Mike’s room.

Stops in his tracks.

Exhales in a fast rush of air.

“Jesus Christ.”

Stop gaping, Harvey. Turn around and walk out of the room, Harvey.

Mike sees him, sits up so fast it probably gives him a head rush and swings his body around until his legs dangle off the bed, bowing his head, his breathing fast and loud, talking under his breath, “Oh shit, oh fuck,” but it’s too late. Harvey saw everything.

Everything.

Mike, stark naked, on his back with his legs spread wide and his knees bent, thrusting his hips. Cock in his hand, rock hard, and an impressive size it has to be said — an observation that makes Harvey’s heart swell with pride for some bizarre reason — one hand stroking and twisting, up and down and up again, the other cupping an ass cheek, fingers lodged in his crack, until he becomes aware of Harvey’s presence and bolts upright, eyes wide with horror.

Oh shit, oh fuck, indeed. There’s a goddamn dildo on the bed, and next to that, a bottle of lube. Mike wasn’t up to that part yet, he hadn’t penetrated himself. He was working his way up to it; if Harvey hadn’t interrupted him he might have been fingering himself right now, but instead all he’s doing is panting and blushing and not making eye contact.

And apparently Harvey’s incapable of moving a muscle.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally, laughing. “I should have knocked.”

“You think?” Mike replies, huffing out his own mortified laugh. “What do you want?”

“We have to be at a drinks reception at five. That’s in twenty minutes.”

Mike gives him a sidelong glance. “You said six.”

“Well now it’s five. Go shower and get ready.” He glances down at Mike’s lap — his cock is still so hard with the way Mike is hunching over the head of it touches his belly. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly, Mike nods. “Yeah. Just...give me a minute.”

“Sure thing.” Move, Harvey. Walk away. Leave the kid alone to get ready. Go get ready yourself, for fuck’s sake.

He tears his gaze away from Mike’s body and returns to his own room, leaving the door ajar in case Mike wants to talk to him or needs his help with anything. Shutting his eyes, he leans against the wall, breathing in and out, slow and measured, until he feels some semblance of control returning.

Except when he’s changing his pants the image of Mike spread out on the bed won’t fucking quit: thighs splayed, chest heaving, perspiration beading on his forehead, fucking his fist as he prepares to impale himself with that hefty, flesh-toned dildo.

The shower in their joint bathroom isn’t running yet. What’s taking Mike so long? Harvey’s willing to forgo his own cold shower so Mike can be ready in time, but that means Mike can’t waste another second on...whatever it is he’s doing instead of showering.

Better check on him. Harvey needs the bathroom now too, anyway; he wants to brush his teeth.

Oh Jesus, he’s still naked.

The bathroom is long and rectangular, and can be entered from both rooms. There’s a shower at the far end and a long countertop with two sinks — his and his — and an enormous mirror adorning the wall above the counter. Mike grips the edge of the counter with both hands, leaning forward slightly, his breathing audibly shaky. He catches Harvey’s eye in the mirror.

“Fuck Harvey.” Squashing his eyeballs beneath his finger and thumb, he lets out an incredulous laugh. “It’s not going down. Look at it.” Yep. It’s still hard as a fucking rock. “I can’t go anywhere like this.”

“No you can’t. Just…” Harvey shakes his head, and he can’t quite believe he’s about to say this but in the interest of expediency: “Finish up. It’s fine.” Why didn’t he suggest a cold shower?

“Okay. Thanks.” Mike doesn’t even wait until Harvey’s gone, he just starts fisting his cock again. Even more interesting is the way he watches himself in the mirror, gaze fixed on his moving hand.

Harvey hasn’t been asked to leave so he moves further into the bathroom and picks up his toothbrush. The pretense of indifference lasts only a few seconds though, as Harvey finds he’s incapable of keeping his eyes on himself. Before today he wouldn’t have counted watching men masturbate as one of his kinks, but as usual Mike triggers in Harvey an altogether different response from the norm. It’s not Mike’s body that’s remarkable so much as that it’s Mike next to him, exposed and unselfconscious, revealing a side of himself Harvey had never expected to be privy to. Their sexually suggestive banter occasionally generates some nice visuals, especially when Rachel’s the subject of their conversation, but it’s all just a bit of harmless fun, nothing like this. Nothing like actually being allowed to watch.

Mike catches him staring — not that he appears to mind; if anything it spurs him on, making him grunt and speed up his hand — and when Harvey looks back at his own reflection he sees the drooping eyelids and blown pupils of a man far too invested in the show being put on for him.

Fuck. This is a bad idea. Not only is Mike his employee, he’s in a relationship with another of Harvey’s employees. Harvey can’t deny the temptation he feels to involve himself further, but he absolutely cannot succumb. It doesn’t matter that the movement of Mike’s hips is beyond sensual, the little sounds he makes ridiculously provocative, the way he twists his hand up and down that hard dick...it’s a fucking invitation to join in the fun if ever there was one. But that doesn’t matter.

Harvey spits toothpaste into the sink and bends down to take a mouthful of water from the tap so he can rinse out his mouth, then turns to face Mike, leaning against the counter. “How you doing?” he asks, his voice coming out softer than intended. “Are you close yet?”

Mike shakes his head. “No. I’m not sure I can come like this. My body was anticipating certain...activities.”

“What do you need?”

“Can you get me the stuff on the bed?”

“The dildo?” Harvey asks, even though he knows damn well that’s what Mike was referring to.

“Yeah. And the lube.”

On his return to the bathroom, supplies in hand, Harvey comments, “You come prepared.”

That earns him a bashful laugh. “Don’t judge me, I don’t get a lot of alone time now I’m living with Rachel. Can you…” They make eye contact in the mirror. “Can you get it ready for me? I want to keep touching myself so my dick stays hard.” As if that’s going to be a problem.

With a nod, Harvey squeezes a little lube into his palm and greases up the dildo. “You and Rachel don’t play with this together?” Now there’s a thought.

Mike shoots him a knowing smile, but never stops pumping his hand. “Not as often as I’d like to.”

“Are you ready for this?” Harvey offers the dildo to Mike.

“Hm, that might be risky. I should prep my ass first.”

Harvey nods. “Okay.” Why does this conversation feel so normal? Harvey’s come to accept he and Mike are close now — like brothers really...or so he thought — but assisting Mike with this particular pastime is some next level intimacy and Harvey does not understand why it feels as natural as it does.

But Mike’s naked body, flushed and glistening with sweat, his slackened cheeks, his unfocused eyes...it’s such a pleasing sight, and the knowledge Mike’s arousal is partly down to Harvey’s presence, makes Harvey feel not just welcome to stay and watch, but like his participation is somehow necessary.

Breathless and low, Mike says, “It’d be faster if you help.”

“Fast is good. We need to be out the door pretty soon. What do you want me to do?”

“Can you finger me open?”

Harvey’s cock throbs in his pants and for a moment his vision blurs. “And you’ll keep working on your cock?”

“Yeah.”

“I can do that.” He’s got his fingers slicked with lube before he remembers to ask, “What about Rachel? Would this not bother her?”

“No, God, it’s no big deal, right? It’s not like you’re kissing me.” Even in his heightened state of arousal there’s a trace of bitterness in Mike’s tone. “You’re just helping me out.” Then his face breaks into a grin. “Because you’re a good friend.”

Harvey huffs out a short laugh and then moves behind Mike, staring at him in the mirror. “Are you going to tell her?”

There’s a pause while Mike considers Harvey’s question. “No. I’m thinking this should probably remain between us.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that, Mike,” Harvey says, but the truth is, with Mike’s ass right there in front of him, inches from his slippery fingers, he’s not particularly uncomfortable with it either.

“Fine, you want me to call her right now? Ask for her permission?”

“We don’t have time for that.”

“Listen, Harvey. This is my relationship and I’m making a judgment call. I’m not going to tell Rachel because there’s a chance she won’t understand, even though it’s really not a big deal. I just want to get off so we can get back to business — are you gonna help me with that or not?”

“Fine. It’s your relationship, your call,” Harvey says, slipping two fingers down Mike’s warm, damp crack, stopping when he feels Mike’s hole beneath the pads of his fingertips. Rubbing in circles, with one fingertip he pushes a little more firmly until it slips inside, Mike’s sphincter clenching around it, the sensation so delicious it makes them both gasp. Harvey keeps pushing until his finger is completely encased and he twists it back and forth, wiggling his fingertip against Mike’s prostate to get him to moan.

He fucks in and out of Mike’s asshole with one finger, watching Mike rock back and forth, ass desperate for attention, a look of dreamy bliss on his face. Such a sweet, gratifying groan when Harvey adds a second finger, and Christ he’d love to get his tongue in there. He’s pretty sure Mike wouldn’t stop him, but it’s also clear what they’re doing would not be sanctioned by Rachel so he better keep things simple, just do what he was asked to do and let Mike get on with the rest.

When he looks up he sees Mike gazing at him. “Harvey, are you hard?”

He considers denying it but really, what’s the point? He nods.

“Can I see?”

“Why?”

“I think it might help me come.”

Fair enough. “Okay.” He unzips his fly and pushes his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh, Mike’s response to the sight of Harvey’s erection — a groaned out “Oh God, oh fuck me” — making him smile.

“You like that?” he murmurs, pushing his fingers back into Mike’s ass.

“Looks like you need to come too.”

“I’ll be okay,” Harvey says, unsure how true that is.

“Can I see you touch yourself?”

He extracts his fingers from Mike so he can use the same hand, transfer some of the slick onto his cock because he thinks it’ll excite Mike.

“Oh my God,” Mike breathes out. “I think I’m ready.”

“For the dildo?” Harvey asks.

But Mike’s staring at Harvey’s dick as he nods slowly, and he sounds drunk, his voice thick and croaky, when he says, “Yeah.”

Harvey picks up the dildo from the counter, leaving behind it a shiny cock-shaped smudge of lube, and he holds it behind Mike, at an angle so its reflection is still visible to him. “You sure this is what you want?”

He’s aware they’re both way too turned on to do the right thing here — whatever that is at this point — and that Harvey’s waiting for Mike to give him the go ahead, as if permission will somehow make what Harvey’s about to do less egregious.

“No,” Mike says, gaze flitting between the dildo and Harvey’s penis.

“What do you want?”

Harvey strokes himself to clue Mike into the correct answer.

“Fuck, Harvey, Rachel definitely wouldn’t be okay with what I want.”

“Okay,” Harvey says, shifting a little so he’s directly behind Mike. He spreads Mike open with the hand not holding the dildo, and takes a moment to enjoy the visual of his cock pointing at Mike’s ass. Shuffling forward a little so the tip nearly makes contact with Mike’s skin, but instead of closing the distance like he wants to, instead of pressing the head of his cock against Mike’s pucker and sliding inside, he enters Mike’s body with the dildo, pushing it inside until Mike cries out.

Pulling it out halfway, Mike follows him, thrusting his ass back like he wants more, he wants it back inside him, deeper, and of course Harvey obliges. Mike’s ecstatic moans are like music to his ears, and fucking him with the dildo looks so damn good Harvey can almost imagine what it’d feel like were it his own cock reaming that tight, eager asshole.

“Oh Harvey,” Mike groans, and he sounds as wrecked as Harvey feels. “Do you want to put it in, just for a second?”

He does. He really, really does.

“Are you sure?” Harvey asks.

“Yes, fuck. Do it.”

He takes out the dildo and tosses it on the counter, then quickly moves into position. He should get a condom from his room but in the time it takes to do that one of them might change their mind about doing this and Harvey can’t take that risk. So he doesn’t waste another second, sliding his dick into the tight, slick heat of Mike’s asshole, riveted by the sight of it disappearing into Mike’s body, not stopping until his hips are flush against Mike’s ass. Then he looks up and their eyes meet.

“You okay?” Harvey asks.

“Yeah. It feels great. Please start moving.”

Thrusting into Mike like this is a pleasure Harvey has never allowed himself to contemplate — it just seemed too risky to even consider acting on his attraction, and he’s surely lost his mind to have allowed himself to finally give into the impulse — but now it’s happening, and Mike’s very obviously enjoying it as much as Harvey is.

It just feels so damn good. Watching his cock fuck in and out of Mike is so sexy Harvey’s pretty sure he’s going to come soon. “You close?” he says, whispered voice so shaky he’s barely comprehensible.

“I’m so fucking close,” Mike gasps back, his hand a blur on his cock now —

— and that’s when there’s a knock at the door.

Not a gentle knock either. An aggressive, insistent knock, that doesn’t sound like it’s going to stop any time soon.

“What the fuck?” Mike says. Harvey stops moving, holding himself inside, a tight grip on Mike’s hips.

They’re both panting hard. “It could be Jessica. We’re running late.”

“Are you going to answer it?”

The temptation to ignore it, to keep fucking Mike until they both come is overwhelming, and he starts moving his hips again, slower and more deliberate.

Mike sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Good call,” he says.

But the knocking won’t stop and Harvey’s pretty sure that’s Louis’s voice, yelling his name through the door.

“Shit,” Harvey hisses. “Goddamn Louis.”

“Please don’t ever say his name while you’re inside me,” Mike says. “Maybe you should get rid of him.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He pulls out. “Give me one minute. Don’t move.” He tugs his pants back up and checks his reflection — Jesus Christ almighty, he’s flushed and sweating and thank fuck it’s not Jessica at the door because she’d know immediately what he was up to. His t-shirt’s soaked through with sweat so he strips it off and drops it on the floor.

He opens the door to his room only a crack, glaring at Louis. “What?”

“Harvey, what the hell are you doing? It’s ten after five and your presence is required - no, wait, it is demanded - in the Royal Plaza Suite immediately.”

“I got held up downstairs. I’m about to have a shower, tell Jessica I’ll be with her in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“I don’t need more than half an hour with Suds, you know that, I know that, and Jessica knows that. In any case, Jessica is perfectly capable of closing him without me.”

“And what if she can’t?”

“Like I said, I will be there in twenty minutes.”

“It’s your funeral. Where the hell is Mike?”

“He’s getting ready. Now leave me alone so I can do the same.“

Mike’s no longer in the bathroom when Harvey returns so he walks into Mike’s room, and finds him back on the bed, lying on his stomach with his legs open, gazing at Harvey over his shoulder. Harvey’s never been so quick to get naked in his entire life.

He doesn’t waste any more time, climbing on top of Mike and sliding back inside him. Finding a rhythm and burying his mouth into Mike’s neck, it’s a minute or so before he can speak. “We have some ground to make up.”

“Yeah, but not much. I’m already close again.”

“Good, me too.” It’s true. Turns out the Louis interruption didn’t have much of an effect on his arousal levels, which might be weird except Harvey knows it has nothing to do with Louis and everything to do with Mike. Christ. Harvey should not be enjoying this as much as he is.

Mike’s head is thrown back, his wet forehead pressed to Harvey’s cheek. “I wanna come.”

“That’s okay. That’s what we’re here for.” Harvey kisses him on the mouth, quick and dirty, says, “What’s your preference?”

“On top, with you still inside me. I wanna come on your skin.”

Harvey extracts himself and falls onto his back, watching in near goddamn awe as Mike climbs astride his hips, takes Harvey’s cock in his hand and sinks back down into Harvey's lap. “Kiss me,” Harvey says, pulling Mike forward so he can take his mouth properly, thrusting his tongue inside, bruising his lips. The incredible visuals — Mike riding him at an accelerating pace, yanking on his own cock with his free hand — perfectly match the sensations, Harvey’s entire body humming with pleasure, and there’s just no way he’ll ever regret this, no matter what happens next —

It’s like a bolt of electricity, every nerve ending in his body alight with ecstasy, and he’s barely conscious of the way Mike is fucking his cock harder and faster, as Harvey empties his load inside him. It’s not until he begins to emerge from the haze of his orgasm and his cock has slipped free of Mike’s body that his vision fully returns, and he’s confronted with the extraordinary sight of Mike crouching over Harvey’s lap, spunk dripping out of his ass onto Harvey’s wilting erection. Face screwed up in concentrated pleasure, his hand is going so fast on his cock he might start a fire, and then it stops abruptly and he gasps out, “Oh fuck, ahh,” as he comes, cream shooting out of his cock and landing in haphazard stripes all over Harvey’s torso.

Once Harvey’s caught his breath, reality comes crashing back into the room.

Problem is, they don’t have any time whatsoever to contemplate their situation, complicated as it may be, because they were supposed to be out the door twenty minutes ago, and if Harvey’s going to deliver on his promise to Louis and Jessica to be at the Suds reception by 5.30, the two of them need to be showered and dressed in their tuxes within the next ten minutes.

“Come on,” Harvey says. “Get up. We need to shower.”

His order is met with silence, although at least Mike isn’t rendered immobile by whatever’s going on in his head. He slips off the bed and heads straight for the bathroom without a second glance back at Harvey.

Following him, Harvey waits by the shower for the minute and a half it takes Mike to soap, shampoo and rinse. Harvey jumps in as soon as Mike’s done and washes himself in similarly record time.

They’re dressed, save Mike’s still-untied bowtie and standing back in front of the bathroom mirror tending to their hair with barely a minute to spare, when Mike finally speaks, his voice low.

“I cheated on Rachel.” He’s shaking his head at himself, but it’s not disgust Harvey sees on Mike’s face, it’s disbelief. “I did a way worse thing than she did, Harvey. I fucked someone else. All she did was kiss —” he stops to huff out a few breaths, still unable to acknowledge Rachel’s betrayal without anger. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

He’s talking like it wasn’t Harvey he was just fucking, as if Harvey can give him some impartial advice, as if Harvey isn’t entirely responsible for the circumstances they’ve found themselves in.

“We’ll figure it out later. Right now, we need to get upstairs. You ready?”

Mike stares down at his chest, hands spread. “My tie.”

“I’ll fix it in the elevator — let’s go.”

Jessica’s pissed at him for his tardiness, but he wins back her favor by charming the socks of Suds, and getting a verbal agreement from him that tomorrow he will transfer all his business to Pearson Specter, all before 6pm.

The next drinks reception, down in The Champagne Bar, is not attended by any potential new clients, so Harvey can relax a little. Keeping half an eye on Mike, who is downing champagne like it’s going out of fashion, he spends enough time with Jessica to reassure himself they’re all good, and then he makes a beeline for Mike, snatches his glass out of his hand and sets it down on the tray of a passing waiter.

“Hey!”

“Don’t get drunk. You need to stay focused.”

“Uh, why exactly? I don’t even need to be here, you’re the one getting an award, not me.” Another waiter wanders by and Mike grabs a fresh glass of champagne from his tray, and takes a big, rebellious slug.

“Mike,” Harvey says. “I know you’re freaking out, but you have got to hold it together. Can you do that?”

“Easy for you to say,” he retorts, finally making eye contact with Harvey. “You didn’t just jeopardize your relationship with the love of your life for a roll in the hay with your goddamn boss.”

“Jesus Christ, keep your voice down,” Harvey hisses. “Come with me.” Walking towards the bar’s exit, he doesn’t bother looking back, he knows Mike’s following him.

He leads them out to the relatively secluded foyer; he’s not crazy about having this conversation here and now but he clearly doesn’t have a choice about it. “Listen,” he says. “We fucked up, I acknowledge that, but it’s done, and it doesn’t have to be the end of the world.”

“She told me about Logan. Doesn’t that mean I have to tell her about you?”

Clenching his jaw, Harvey shakes his head. “No,” he says with conviction. “That would be incredibly stupid — not only would it mean the end of your relationship, it would affect her ability to work at Pearson Specter. It’s not just you she’d have to face every day, it’s me, and Donna. That’s not fair on her and you know it.”

“So I have to start lying to her again.”

“Mike, all you have to do is learn to live with the guilt — the only thing you’ll achieve by telling her about what happened is you’ll unburden yourself by putting the weight onto her shoulders. A weight, quite frankly, you deserve to live with. Remember how it made you feel when she told you about Logan? Do you really want her to suffer that way?”

“No.”

“So you tell her every single thing that happened here and just leave out the part where we had sex. It’s the kindest thing you can do for her, trust me.”

Mike bows his head and digs fingers into his temples. “God. I am a terrible person.”

“We both are,” Harvey says. “Look at me.” Mike raises his gaze and Harvey smiles at him. “It’s us, this is what we do — we break rules and amazing things happen, but there’s always a cost.” Mike’s nodding, a small smile tugging at his lips when Harvey says the bit about amazing things happening, and Harvey knows he’s won this round. “Now let’s get back in there before Jessica releases the hound.”

“Fine,” Mike says. “But I’m getting drunk.”

“Okay,” Harvey concedes, following Mike back into the bar. “But don’t talk to anyone.”

They sit next to each other at dinner in the Ballroom, the lift in Mike’s mood likely down to a combination of champagne, good food, and Harvey’s consciously calm, pleased demeanor. It’s important Harvey keeps Mike feeling reassured everything is going to be okay, that he’s not going to lose Rachel, and that keeping what they did to themselves is not only smart but the most ethical course of action. And, selfishly, Harvey wants Mike in a good mood because it’s a lot more fun that way. The delighted, genuine smile on Mike’s face when Harvey collects his award is a thousand times more gratifying than the applause he receives from the crowd when he steps off the stage.

Returning to the table with his crystal, Harvey takes a seat, smiling as Mike leans in, murmurs into his ear, “Don’t say I never do anything nice for you,” and claps him on the back, the physical contact sending a bloom of warmth through Harvey’s chest.

After the ceremony, most people stick around to mingle and take advantage of the free booze, although Jessica and Louis both make a pretty swift exit. Harvey suggests a drink outside, so he and Mike take their scotches and wander around until they find a balcony that’s not too crowded. There’s a small group of smokers in one corner but otherwise they’re alone. Harvey’s plan to head straight home has gone awry, not because he wants to stay over now, but because leaving Mike to his own devices with their shit still up in the air is probably not the wisest of moves. He can’t leave until he’s confident Mike won’t have a crisis of conscience and do something dumb.

It’s looking pretty promising on that front — Mike’s joking and laughing as he normally would, apparently having made surprisingly fast peace with their transgression, a fact all but confirmed by what he says next.

“Harvey, I want you to know something.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t regret what happened.”

The relief Harvey feels at hearing that nearly knocks him sideways, but he still wants details. “You don’t?”

“No, I don’t,” Mike says, shaking his head, his smile rueful. “It was really…it was a lot of fun. And you were right — it’s us, we break rules. And now we’re closer than we were before, we know each other a little bit better, and I’m finding it really hard to feel bad about that.”

“I’m not sure Rachel would see it that way,” Harvey says, but he’s smiling too, because he feels exactly the same.

“Yeah well, this is our secret, and I’m okay with keeping it.” He turns his head, looking out at the twinkling city with a soft laugh. “I like having something that’s just ours again.”

“Until Donna finds out, of course.”

Mike turns back to look at Harvey, annoyance creasing his brow. “No fucking way are we telling Donna. She’s Rachel's best friend.”

“So what? Donna’s loyalty lies with me. And anyway, I have no control over the shit that woman knows. She always just knows.”

“Ugh.”

“Don’t worry, we can trust her.”

“Not really the point. She’s going to think I’m an asshole.”

“Nah. She didn’t think Rachel was an asshole for kissing Logan Sanders, and that guy’s a complete tool. You, on the other hand, had sex with me. No one in their right mind could fault you for that.”

“God, shut up. You are such a complete tool.”

Harvey throws his head back and laughs.

Instead of refilling their drinks they head back upstairs to their rooms, Mike claiming he’s not in the mood to party. On the elevator ride he inquires after Harvey’s plans.

“Are you going home tonight?”

He was intending to. “Yeah. What about you?”

“I’m staying. Rachel’s not expecting me back until late tomorrow morning.” He leaves the statement hanging in the air, Harvey searching his face in an attempt to discern whether it constitutes an invitation to stick around too.

Truth is Harvey would love another turn with Mike, especially because it might never happen again. He has no desire to see Mike and Rachel break up — he cares for them both far too much to be responsible for them losing each other — and when all’s said and done he’s positive he and Mike will be able to carry on with their lives none the worse for wear: one more fuck won’t change much, if anything. Just like Mike said, they’re closer now, and Harvey has no expectations of him other than to keep being the best lawyer he can be. Besides, they were so damn rushed before, and it’d just be really fucking nice to get a chance to take his sweet time, to show Mike what he can do, for them to luxuriate in each other in a way they don’t normally get to; for the memory of it to be their little secret, and this time it’ll be a secret no one else gets to share with them. Screw what he said about Donna earlier. Even if she guesses correctly he’ll deny it.

Tilting his head, Harvey drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “You want company?”

Mike sighs out a smile, says, “Oh fuck yeah.” He bows his head, looking up at Harvey through his eyelashes. “I know I shouldn’t.”

“It’s okay. No one ever has to know. You’ll be home in time for brunch tomorrow, I promise.”

The flare of excitement in Mike’s eyes warms Harvey’s heart. He reaches out and places his hand in the center of Mike’s back, fingertips pressing into the muscle, and Mike leans back into the touch with a closed-lipped moan.

Harvey leaves his jacket and bowtie in his own room but then follows Mike back to the scene of the crime; they’ve already messed up Mike’s bed, it makes good, practical sense to pick up where they left off and defile it some more. He grabs Mike’s hand before Mike can start stripping and tugs him against his body, and their mouths meet, opening on contact so their tongues can get reacquainted.

It takes less than a minute of making out for Harvey to be so turned on he needs more, faster, now. “Take off your clothes,” he orders, and Mike responds with gratifying haste, flinging his shirt to the side and leaving his tuxedo pants in a rumpled heap on the floor, Harvey watching with amusement as he does the same.

Naked, breathing quick and shallow, they kneel up on the bed and resume kissing, arms wrapped around each other, bodies pressed close from chest to knee. Then Harvey pushes Mike onto his back so he can straddle him and they writhe against each other, hot skin on hot skin, until they’re both damp with sweat. After a few minutes, Mike pushes at Harvey in a wordless request for a change of position, a request Harvey answers by rolling them over and pulling Mike up onto his lap; Mike never stops moving, sliding his cock — as hard as it was earlier — against Harvey’s with the steady pump of his hips.

“I wanna suck you,” Mike whispers into Harvey’s ear, tongue flicking across the sensitive lobe before he catches it between his teeth, gnawing gently, making Harvey’s hips jerk forward in an involuntary spasm. Then Mike’s mouth is on his throat, licking and kissing, teeth dragging across Harvey’s jugular. “You want me to suck you, Harvey?” He gazes up into Harvey’s eyes, looking so wanton and aroused Harvey almost forgets how to speak.

“Yes,” Harvey replies, so excited he’s barely able to get the word out, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Mike, who, with a helpless moan, begins the journey south, kissing and sucking a path across Harvey’s skin, spending extra time on the various erogenous zone — his nipples, the dip between his hip and his groin, the delicate flesh on the inside of his thighs — before finally taking Harvey’s dick into his mouth.

Mike sucks Harvey with such enthusiasm, breathing hard through his nose, getting Harvey’s cock messy with spit, Harvey can’t tear his eyes away, and the sight is so intoxicating he finds his voice again. “Suck it, Mike. Suck my dick. Show me how much you want it.”

The vibration of Mike’s moan around Harvey’s shaft sends sparks of pleasure through his groin, and Harvey pushes his hips forward again and again, trying to get in deeper, amazed by how good Mike is at this, how he’s not struggling at all with Harvey’s length or girth, it’s like Harvey’s cock is the perfect fit for Mike’s greedy mouth, as if this is exactly what he was born to do.

“Were you thinking about this earlier?” he asks breathlessly. “During the ceremony? Were you hoping I’d let you do this?”

It takes Mike a while to respond, because apparently sucking Harvey’s cock is more important than answering Harvey’s question, but when he finally gets around to it, dragging his mouth away and breathing hard and hot all over the swollen head, still stroking the slippery length in his hand, he gazes up at Harvey. “I kept thinking about how you came inside me. How I was walking around all night with your come in my ass.”

Harvey moans. “Were you thinking about how irresponsible that was of us?”

“Among other things.” He suckles on the helmet without breaking eye contact.

“What other things.”

“I was thinking about how much I liked it. How much I want you to do it again.”

“That can definitely be arranged. Come here.”

Mike crawls up the bed and climbs on top of Harvey, rotating his hips and grinding his cock against Harvey’s.

“Aaargh,” he groans, burying his face into the crook of Harvey’s neck. “This feels so good. Why does this have to feel so good?”

Now’s not the time for that conversation so Harvey shuts Mike up by flipping him onto his back and takes Mike’s cock into his mouth. It does the trick – Mike lets out a whining gasp and Harvey blocks out all thoughts, focusing his concentration entirely on generating optimum pleasure, swallowing around Mike’s cock, sucking as hard as he can without using his teeth, savoring the sexy-bitter taste of the pre-come pulsing over his tongue and sliding down his throat. He gives Mike such a thorough tongue-bath Mike’s hips take on a life of their own, thrusting up harder and harder, like he’s completely out of control and will come any second if Harvey isn’t careful.

His suspicions are confirmed when Mike gasps out, “Oh fuck, Harvey, if you don’t stop I’m gonna come,” so Harvey pulls off and moves back up the bed, shoving Mike over onto his stomach and jamming his fingers down Mike’s crack. Blinking his eyes back into focus, Harvey looks around frantically, trying to locate what he needs next.

“Where’s the lube?” he demands, unable to see the bottle anywhere.

“We left it in the bathroom,” Mike says, and Harvey leaps off the bed and power-walks to the bathroom to retrieve it.

By the time Harvey gets back Mike’s got his ass thrust in the air, chest still flat on the bed but up on his knees with his thighs spread wide — such a good boy.

“You want me back inside you?” Harvey asks.

“Yessss,” Mike says. “I can’t wait. Hurry.”

Christ. His desperation stirs something deep in Harvey’s gut, and there’s just one more thing he needs to do before he gives the boy what he wants. He climbs back on the bed, hunched down directly behind Mike, spreading his ass cheeks open so he can gaze for a while at the crinkled, rosy starfish bedded in sweat-wet brown fur, and Harvey aches for him. Lurching forward, he buries his mouth into Mike’s crack, licking deep and through, trying to stab inside him with the tip of his tongue, but he’s too fucking tight. He stops for a moment to smear a bit of lube onto his finger so he can slide it in, tonguing him at the same time, and Mike’s going crazy above him, shouting out Harvey’s name and thrusting his ass back into Harvey’s face.

Skin buzzing with impatient lust, Harvey jabs two fingers in and out of Mike, groaning when he swipes his tongue over his knuckles and catches a trace of semen. “Fuck, Mike,” he gasps. “I need—“

Unable to wait a second longer, he sits up on his knees and shuffles forward, holding his cock by the root and angling it towards Mike’s hole. Even though he’s already done this once today, entering Mike is as exquisite as it was the first time, and he quickly works his way up to a hard, steady rhythm. He knows exactly how much Mike can take now — a lot as it turns out — and that, despite Harvey’s not inconsiderable length, it doesn’t hurt him at all when Harvey slams all the way in with every thrust.

Mike’s shouts of pleasure are loud and continuous, and the ultimate motivation for Harvey to not let himself come. Oh, he could. He could have come in about ten seconds if he’d surrendered control, and it’d still be easy to, but he also wants to make it last, make this count. It’ll be memorable no matter what, but it has to be special in every way — it has to be the best, longest, hardest fuck Mike’s ever had; it has to be the kind of secret that gets Mike hard when he lets himself think about it. Harvey intends to deposit the fantasy to end all fantasies into Mike’s spank bank.

Flattening him on the bed so his chest is flush against Mike’s back and he’s holding him tight, his hips hammering against Mike’s ass cheeks, cock pounding inside, the pressure in Harvey’s groin builds to an almost unendurable level. But then Mike’s moans and gasps turn strangled and the muscles beneath Harvey’s hands and body tremble with exertion, their fuck-rhythm becoming erratic as the orgasm surges through Mike’s body. It’s all the impetus Harvey needs to let go himself, crying out Mike’s name as he comes so hard it knocks the breath out of him, waves of delirious pleasure pulsating through him. When it finally peters out, Harvey shuddering through the aftershocks, he slumps onto Mike limp body, resting his cheek on Mike’s slippery back, entirely unable to move.

Eventually Harvey peels himself off Mike and they rearrange themselves so they’re lying on their sides, facing each other.

Mike’s grinning like he hasn’t a care in the world. “That was…fucking awesome. Holy shit that was awesome.”

“Mm,” Harvey agrees. “You’re welcome.”

Mike laughs. “Shame we can’t do it again.”

“Yeah.” Harvey offers him a rueful smile. “But at least we made it count.”

“You can say that again.”

Harvey leans in and presses his lips to Mike’s in a sweet, lingering kiss that has Mike closing his eyes and sighing with pleasure.

“Fuck, Harvey. Why don’t I feel guilty? What the hell’s wrong with me?”

“Sex hormones, probably.”

“So you’re saying I’ll feel differently tomorrow?”

“I hope not, but you might want to prepare yourself for the possibility.”

“I love Rachel,” Mike says with complete sincerity. “I won’t let this get in the way of my relationship with her…”

“But?”

“But…obviously I have pretty strong feelings for you too. I wish I could...” he trails off again.

“What?”

“I dunno. I wish I could have both of you. Like, with Rachel knowing about it and being okay with it I mean. I’m not suggesting we embark on a sordid affair. Is that greedy of me?”

“Don’t know about greedy. Unrealistic is probably a more accurate word.”

“You don’t think she’ll go for it?” Mike asks with a wry smile.

“No, Mike. I don’t think she’ll go for it.”

“Would you though?”

“Would I be okay with you seeing both me and Rachel?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugs. “Sure. But only if a threesome were on the cards.”

First Mike’s eyes widen, and then they narrow to slits as he peer s off into the distance. “Hm. Now there’s an idea.”

Harvey flops onto his back with a satisfied smile.

His work here is done.