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“You’re wearing that shit again?” Harvey asked. Mike wasn’t sure how he could be criticizing his clothes already – he just came in, and Harvey didn’t even look up from the papers he was holding.
“I can smell the cheap,” Harvey said, as if reading his mind, “plus, you’re predictable. It’s becoming pathetic. You can’t be what you are – well, what you’re pretending to be – without letting everyone see it. And you? You smell of cheap.” The distaste was clear in his voice.
“It’s not cheap,” Mike protested weakly, though by now he knew that by Harvey’s standards – by everyone’s standards, in this world – it really was cheap. Even if it was the most expensive clothes he’s ever owned.
“You’re skipping lunch. I’m taking you to my tailor,” Harvey said decisively, finally looking up. His eyes scanned Mike’s body and his lips twisted again, as if the sight of Mike’s cheap suit was even more distasteful than he’d originally imagined.
Mike considered protesting, but that was pointless, and the sharp look Harvey gave him stopped him before he could make a sound.
Skipping lunch. As if he ever not skipped lunch. Skipping lunch so that Harvey could take him to his tailor and mould him in his image. Watch him being transformed into someone… someone more like Harvey himself? Mike wasn’t sure.
The idea of having Harvey there while he was being measured and poked by some stranger made him more than a little uneasy.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why did he offer to take him to his tailor? No – he knew why – something had to be done about this boy’s shitty suits, that for sure, but why did he say he’d take him? Why didn’t he just send him there himself? Sure, he’d tried it before and it didn’t work, but he could order him on no uncertain terms, he could…
He could have been anywhere, anywhere but fucking here, stuck in the backroom of his tailors shop, watching Mike standing there with his hands spread and his white shirt clinging to his chest while his tailor was measuring his arms and then his legs and then…
He was stuck there watching Mike standing obediently while his tailor’s hands were roaming freely all over his body, while his tailor’s head was inches away from Mike’s cock, getting so close it almost seemed to Harvey he was really about to pull Mike’s pants down, free Mike’s dick from his underwear and...
Stop it, Harvey told himself sternly. There’s nothing erotic about it. You should know – you’ve been in this position. Mike feels nothing erotic at all. And the tailor certainly doesn’t think of doing any of the things Harvey’s just imagined.
But then he made the mistake of looking up and seeing Mike’s flushed face and his shining eyes staring at him, and he was sure he could see arousal there.
Stop projecting, Harvey told himself maliciously, just because you would not be able to be this close to Mike’s cock without reaching for it, without ripping off his pants in order to take it into your mouth, doesn’t mean anyone else would feel the same. And that arousal you see on Mike’s face? He’s just embarrassed. Poor kid is not used to such situations, and it must be even harder with his boss around. Just because the way Mike has just licked his lower lip looked like a come and fuck me to you, doesn’t mean the poor guy is aroused!
Stop looking!
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop looking, he just had to take it all in, the way Mike stood there, flustered and uncomfortable, obeying the tailor’s orders; the way the cheap material of his shirt clung to him; the way he imagined he could see the outline of his cock in his cheap pants; he just couldn’t stop looking.
Worse – he couldn’t stop thinking of all the things he could do if the tailor would have magically disappeared and it’d be just Mike and him in that room. His heart pounded as he imagined Mike just standing there, his arms still spread, while Harvey approached slowly and the grabbed him by his tie and…
He couldn’t decide what he’d do first. Touch him, sure, he wanted – no, he needed to touch all of him, he needed to pull him closer, to push him against the wall and kiss him, taste him, divest him of his cheap clothes and lick and touch every inch of his body, make him moan and ache for him, make him…
“We’re all done here,” his tailor’s voice finally broke through the haze of his lustful thoughts and he had to make an effort not to jump with surprise. He could feel himself blushing, and willed himself to relax and breathe normally.
“Great,” Harvey said sharply and he sounded normal, he was so good at sounding normal, he was even good at not blushing at will, but still…
Still, he was hard as rock and there was no way he could just stand up right now without it being very, very obvious.
Mike looked unbelievably relieved and eager to leave. Moving his suitcase in front of himself to cover his erection, Harvey took a deep breath and forced himself to stand up. He’s ok. It’s ok. He can do it.
“Let’s go,” Mike’s voice, so close to him, almost begging him – fuck, the last thing he needed right now was to hear Mike’s needy voice, it immediately made him think of Mike sounding needy in a completely different situation – God, how would he sound if he was really begging him? If he was pinned beneath Harvey, writhing on the bed while Harvey was slowly grinding against him? How would…
“Harvey?” Mike’s voice, still needy but also puzzled and annoyed.
“Let’s go,” Harvey said.
And somehow, they made it back to the office and everything was normal and Harvey only thought about Mike, Mike in his cheap suit, Mike without his cheap suit, Mike naked – he only thought of those things very few times once they were back in the office.
Maybe only every five minutes or so.
He needed this day to be over. He needed to get home and take a hot shower and do something about his constant, nagging erection, he needed to be far, far away from Mike, someplace where he could take off his suit and jerk off, feeling only half guilty about the things he imagined while his hand determinedly worked his cock.
He really needed to get out of there; almost everyone was gone already, but he had this insanely important case he couldn’t just leave to anyone. Not even to Mike.
No – technically, he could leave all the dirty work to Mike. But then he’d need to see him, to talk to him, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. Besides, Mike was already doing most of the dirty work for this case. He just needed to finish these last few pages, and then he’ll be free.
His cock twitched at the thought of getting home and getting some much needed release. Oh, he’ll indulge himself this time. He’ll allow himself to think about Mike, he won’t even try to pretend it’s someone else he’s thinking about. No; he’ll just get home, take his pants off, grasp his cock firmly in his hand and have a nice, long wank thinking about Mike, naked on his bed, or Mike, with this pants pulled down, Mike…
“Harvey?”
Damn it. Mike.
“What?!”
The obvious irritation in his voice didn’t even make Mike flinch.
“It’s done,” Mike dropped the folders on Harvey’s table but didn’t turn to leave.
“Well what do you want? A pat on your back?”
Just please leave, instead of standing in front of my desk, with that skewed tied and that blush and…
“Fine,” Mike shrugged, “I’ll just go home, then.”
“No!” Harvey jumped to his feet, “no, you do not go home before me! You never go home before me!”
“Well what do you want me to do? Should I maybe just sit here and watch you work till I can leave, boss?” Mike said sarcastically, gesturing at the chair in the corner of Harvey’s office.
He could just imagine it. Mike sitting in the corner, watching Harvey intently while he tried to finish his reading. Mike’s eyes on him… He’ll never be able to focus.
But Mike already dropped gracelessly into the corner chair and was watching him expectantly.
Right. Just… just finish reading and deal with this tomorrow. No way he can yell at him properly now.
Right. But he’s still on his feet, and Mike has that smirk on his face and suddenly Harvey realizes he’s standing next to Mike and his hand is already pulling him up by his tacky tie. Mike doesn’t even flinch – he lets Harvey pull him to his feet, still looking at him expectantly, licking his lips slowly and then lets out a little breathy moan when Harvey leans closer.
And before he knows it, he has him right where he wanted him – pressed to the wall, with his leg shoved firmly between Mike’s, his thigh rubbing against Mike’s erection while his tongue makes its way determinedly into Mike’s mouth.
He tastes good. He smells good. And fuck, his skin feels so damn good when Harvey pushes his hand beneath his shirt. And he’s hard. Mike is hard and rocking shamelessly against Harvey’s thigh, moaning, pulling him closer, kissing him deeper and harder.
Damn. He can’t think – his hands are so ahead of his head that he doesn’t know how he got Mike’s jacket off, and then his shirt, but he knows what he feels – triumph. A heady, breathless feeling of success as he reveals more and more of Mike’s skin, as he can touch and bite another piece of it, as he can play with his nipples while he sucks on his neck and jaw.
Marks – he’s going to leave marks. He shouldn’t, he thinks dazedly, but he must. And Mike doesn’t seem to mind, not the way he arches into every touch and every kiss. Mike doesn’t seem to mind and Harvey wants it, needs it, and so he sucks harder, fueled by Mike’s eager responses. He thinks he could come just from the needy little sounds Mike makes when he touches him.
And he just can’t stop – his hand is already in Mike’s pants, grasping for his cock and Mike is breathless and gasping when it’s finally out, in his hand, big and hard and throbbing and he must taste it right now, so he drops to his knees and takes it all into his mouth without a preamble, without even thinking that he should have at least pretended not to be quite so desperate for it.
But he is, and Mike’s choked scream only makes him more eager to make the boy tremble and beg as he sucks him.
He pulls Mike’s thighs closer, sucking harder and deeper, feeling the muscles of Mike’s thighs strain and quiver beneath his hands as he tries to control himself, tries not to thrust too hard into Harvey’s mouth.
But Harvey doesn’t want that. He wants Mike to lose control. He wants Mike to know that he can make it lose it faster than anyone else, faster than anyone should be able to.
He wants him. God, he just wants him – like this, trembling while Harvey sucks him, mumbling meaningless encouragements and dirty pleas – he wants him just like this, coming helplessly into his mouth, collapsing against the wall, breathing heavily and looking with him with these big, shining, eyes, filled with amazement and lust.
But Harvey’s not done with him. Not by a long shot. He’s so hard he feels like his cock is about to dig a hole in his pants, and he hopes Mike understands through his post-orgasmic bliss, that they’re not done.
Not by a long shot.
But it seems like Mike does understand, although he’s still slouched against the wall with his pants around his ankles and a hot red bruise forming on his neck. He catches Harvey’s eyes and immediately his eyes shine with new interest, his hands are reaching for Harvey and pulling him for a hard, hot kiss and then reach down to open his pants. Eager, sloppy, but Harvey doesn’t care – his cock throbs in Mike’s hand, thankful for the friction, for the freedom, and when Mike strokes him, he nearly comes right there and then.
But no. That’s not what he’s here for.
He tries to tell Mike as much, but Mike seems so fascinated by the way Harvey cock feels in his hand, he just keeps on stroking it, and Harvey can’t do much more than pant and grunt.
The words are just not coming.
But then, suddenly, Mike stops, and Harvey grunts his displeasured disapproval.
“Fuck me,” Mike whispers, a hot, breathless whisper that caresses Harvey’s neck and sends shivers down his spine, “fuck me,” his eyes are shining with lust, his tongue keeps sneaking to lick his lips… Harvey’s never felt so desired before.
And before he can even grunt a relieved yes, Mike’s already standing up and takes his pants off and leans against the desk, his legs spread and his ass high in the air.
He looks back, disappointed to see Harvey still frozen on his spot on the floor.
“Fuck me,” he says again, his ass thrusting back, so fucking inviting and tempting it takes Harvey three attempts to make his legs work again and stand up.
“Please,” Mike moans when Harvey’s hands caress his ass slowly, teasingly.
How can he refuse?