Archive of Our Own

The first time Harvey kissed him, it had been in a bar, hours after the client they'd met with had left. Harvey convinced Mike to stay, have a few drinks, talk. Mike thought Harvey had probably already had too much to drink at that point to even be offering that to him, but he wasn't going to turn down an opportunity like that. He hadn't exactly been in a hurry to get home to his empty apartment, which had felt especially lonely as of late. So he took the moment for what it was, despite not being clear on what exactly it was. A moment of weakness on Harvey's part. Alcohol-clouded judgment. Maybe a mixture of both. It didn't matter what you called it--Mike was thankful for it, because it was earning him extra time with Harvey.

He was mid-sentence when Harvey kissed him, catching him completely off guard. Mike didn’t kiss back, not at first, but he didn’t need to. Not really. Like everything else in Harvey’s life, he was in control. He set the pace, dictated the moment, took what he wanted.

And somehow, Mike let him.

Even after they broke apart, breathless, Mike still felt like he no longer had control of his own mouth. Like Harvey had taken it, claimed it, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get it back. Maybe, in some way, he was right.

He waited for Harvey to say something. For him to offer some logical explanation. That he was drunk. That it was a mistake. Something to make sense of it. Instead, Harvey put his lips back against Mike's and breathed the words come back to my place into his mouth. That's when the panic hit, and Mike knew he had to get out of there. He had to leave. Had to be anywhere but there with Harvey. Because if he didn't leave now, he would be in Harvey's bed, and he knew he couldn't let himself do that.

So Mike apologized, profusely, as if he'd done something terribly wrong, and excused himself. He rushed out of the bar, grabbed a cab, and went straight home. He only started to feel the wave of panic wash over him once he was inside his apartment. Only then did the reality of the situation set in. He had rejected Harvey. He was positive that nobody rejected Harvey. Mike was sure there would be some kind of consequences for doing that. He decided to sacrifice his sleep that night in order to work on some sort of apology, or maybe it was a resignation. It sounded a lot like the latter.

He half-expected some kind of fallout. Maybe not professionally, but personally. A shift. A silence. Anything.

It turned out he didn’t need either, because Harvey never mentioned it. Didn’t even hint at it. It was like it had never happened at all.

For a brief moment, Mike considered that maybe Harvey was too drunk to even remember. But he could still taste the scotch from that kiss, even after brushing his teeth twice. He couldn’t convince himself Harvey had forgotten.

And the more he thought about it, the more it infuriated him. Because if Harvey wanted to pretend it never happened, then fine. Mike could do that too.

Two could play that game.

 

-----

 

Kissing Harvey was the proverbial line Mike had drawn in the sand. He wouldn't go any further than that with Harvey. He couldn't go any further than that. Because he already felt too many things for Harvey, and he knew Harvey didn't reciprocate those feelings. He wouldn't let himself get hurt like that. He couldn't let himself.

The only problem with his line in the sand was that he had drawn it too close to the water, and as the tide rose, it started to wash that line away, wave by wave, until it had completely disappeared and there was no trace of it ever being there in the first place.

-----

The second time they kissed, it was in the office, long after everyone else had gone home. This time, Harvey didn’t catch him off guard. Mike saw it coming. He’d seen it in the way Harvey’s eyes kept flicking to his mouth all night, lingering a second too long, like he was already thinking about it. It was only a matter of time.

When it happened, Harvey’s kiss wasn’t soft or tentative. It carried a kind of urgency, a sharpness that made Mike’s pulse jump. He tensed, just enough for Harvey to feel it. For a second, he thought Harvey might pull away completely.

He didn’t.

Instead, the pressure eased. His hands steadied. The kiss shifted, softened. It turned from hungry to something else entirely; something careful, deliberate, almost tender, like Harvey was adjusting in real time, like he was paying attention.

Like he cared.

"We should take this work back to my place," Harvey whispers.

Mike is positive Harvey's not talking about anything that has to do with the job when he says that, but he still agrees to it. Because it's Harvey. Because he's wanted this for so long, even when he knew he shouldn't. And maybe this time it would be different.

Maybe it could be something good.

-----

Sex with Harvey Specter was everything Mike thought it would be. He never doubted that part -- that it would be mind-blowing, for lack of a better term. More than the sex itself, though, it was the things Harvey had said during it that stuck with him.

"God, Mike. You're so fucking perfect."

It was stupid to read into that. People said a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Mike knew that.

But still.

Mike had never been called perfect before.

He'd also never had anyone keep asking if he was okay. Which, if he was being honest, had sort of freaked him out. It meant Harvey could probably tell he was tensing, that the nerves hadn't gone away completely. But Harvey had gone slow -- methodical in each and every movement, the same way he approached his work. Careful. Intentional.

He made Mike relax. Made the nerves fade until they weren’t there at all, until Mike could just get lost in it.

Now, Mike was sitting on the edge of Harvey's bed, wondering what came next.

Harvey had disappeared for a short while, leaving Mike alone with thoughts that were already starting to spiral. Everything up until this point had been perfect. Too perfect. Which meant now he was just waiting for the inevitable hammer to drop.

The bad news had to be coming.

Harvey returned a moment later, walking over and pressing money into Mike's palm.

"I'm not really sure where you live, but there should be enough there to get you a cab ride back home."

And there it was.

The hammer.

Mike knew Harvey's intentions were good. Practical. Thoughtless in that very specific Harvey way.

It didn’t make him feel any less cheap.

Or any less like a complete idiot.

"Thanks, but I got it," Mike said, pushing himself to his feet and placing the money back into Harvey’s hand. He collected his shoes and socks from where they were scattered near the front door, and left.

-----

The following day was a typical Tuesday at the office. Mike spent most of it with his head buried in work, trying his best to distract himself from Harvey, which was no easy task. He only had a few brief encounters with him throughout the day, and Harvey acted like nothing had ever happened.

Mike did the same.

Only for Mike, it was the hardest thing to do. To keep bantering with Harvey like normal and pretend it wasn’t absolutely killing him to know that last night hadn’t meant anything to him. Not a goddamn thing.

That feeling and the way it made his chest ache and twisted his stomach into knots should have been enough to make Mike want to keep things strictly professional between them.

It wasn’t.

Because the next time Harvey called him, a little after midnight, his speech slightly slurred, telling Mike he wanted him to come over--that he missed him, that he needed him--well, that was all it took. Because Mike wanted Harvey.

Needed him.

So Mike would go over, get fucked senseless by Harvey, and then be shown the door.

But it was okay.

Because that was enough.

He got to be close to Harvey, have all of Harvey’s attention, and even if it was only for a short while, it was better than not having it at all.

-----

The next time anything happens, it's two weeks later. They finish up a dinner meeting with a client and are in the back of the town car. Harvey moves his hand over and rests it on the back of Mike's head, his fingers brushing through the hair at the base of Mike's neck.

Harvey's touch sends a wave of pleasure through Mike's entire body. His neck always was a weak spot. He wonders if Harvey knows that.

He probably does.

Harvey seems to know all of his weak spots.

"You look good," Harvey says.

"Thanks," Mike replies, unable to make eye contact with him as Harvey continues moving his fingers through his hair.

When Harvey pushes him into a kiss, Mike closes his eyes and allows himself to be consumed by it. It's easy to believe Harvey cares when he's kissing him like that. Mike's never been kissed by anyone the way Harvey kisses him.

"Mike..do you think you could, I mean..do you want to?" Harvey asks.

He probably could have done without the words. Mike knows exactly what he’s hinting at just from the way he gestures.

"Harvey, we're in a car," Mike points out, as if that isn't somehow entirely obvious to both of them.

"So?"

"What if..I mean what if Ray hears or sees?"

"Look, Mike. If you're that worried about it, then don't bother with it. It's fine."

"No..it's just. I mean..I'll do it, Harvey. For you."

"Good boy," Harvey smiles, his hands already moving to undo his pants.

And with that, Mike crawls over and gets down on his knees, positioning himself in front of Harvey between his legs.

It's completely uncomfortable. His knees ache, and he wants to stop about halfway through because of it. Harvey is enjoying it though. Telling him how good he is in between moans, how, and there it is again, how perfect he is.

That kind of praise shouldn't mean as much as it does. It shouldn't mean anything.

But it does.

And hearing it is what makes him stick it out.

When they finish, Mike moves back up to his seat. He knows they’re at the part where they pretend nothing just happened, so he sticks to staring out the window. Knowing they can't keep doing this, but not knowing how to stop either.

"Do you want Ray to just drop you off back at your place?"

There’s a long, drawn-out silence.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"I asked you a question. Do you want a ride back to your place?"

"Back to the office is fine. I'll ride my bike home," Mike says, before going back to staring out the window.

"You sure? It's cold out."

"Yeah."

When they pull up outside of Pearson Hardman, Mike reaches for the handle and starts to push the door open.

"Mike? Wait."

"What?" he asks, shifting to look at Harvey this time.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Mike says, forcing a half-smile onto his face.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow then."

Mike just climbs out of the car and slams the door shut behind him, maybe a little harder than he intended to.

As Mike lies in bed that night, tears streaming down his face and staining his shirt, he tells himself he isn’t going to do this anymore. That it’s too hard. It hurts too much. That he’s done with Harvey.

His breath hitches between sobs, and then the sobs are briefly replaced with a small, humorless laugh as he realizes he isn’t even good at lying to himself anymore.

Done with Harvey.

He’ll never be done with Harvey.

You can’t ever just be done with the person you’re in love with.

 

-----

The next time Harvey called and asked him to come over, Mike turned him down. Lied. Told him he had other plans. Harvey tried to convince him to drop those plans and just come over, but Mike told him his phone battery was running low and hung up. Because if he stayed on the line any longer, he'd find himself in the back of a cab, and then on his back, his fists gripping at Harvey's sheets before he even knew what he was doing.

But he hung up.

He won this round.

It had been a small victory.

A small, short-lived victory.

Harvey doesn't call the next time.

The next time, it's Mike calling Harvey.

His hands shake a little when he dials the number, and he's not quite sure what to say. He mumbles something, and he's thankful that whatever it was seemed to get the message across well enough that Harvey tells him to come over.

It's the anniversary of Mike's parents' death, and Mike just doesn't want to be alone tonight. He needs comfort.

Going to Harvey is the only way he knows how to get it.

So he shows up at Harvey's doorstep, and Harvey greets him with his mouth. Wordlessly drags him down the hallway, pushes him back onto the bed, strips off his clothes. Looks at him like he matters. Tells him what he needs to hear.

And Mike asks him to say it again.

And then once more.

And then he thinks Harvey is tired of hearing him talk, because his thrusts quicken -- harder, deeper -- and Mike's vocabulary is reduced to nothing but small gasps, moans, and Harvey's name on his lips.

Orgasm washes over Mike first, and Harvey follows closely behind, collapsing on top of him. He stays there until he catches his breath, then kisses Mike one more time before rolling off and disappearing into the bathroom.

Mike knows the routine.

So he sits up and starts gathering the clothes Harvey had taken off him and left scattered across the floor.

"Stay, Mike," Harvey says from the doorway of the bathroom.

"I can't."

"It wasn't really a question. Just stay. Please."

"Okay."

It had always hurt when Harvey made him leave after sex.

It hurts worse now that Harvey is letting him stay.

It's just a reminder of what Mike can't have.

He lies on his side in Harvey's bed, the heat of Harvey's body pressed against his back, an arm wrapped around his waist like he's making sure Mike won't go anywhere. Not just tonight.

Ever.

That Mike will always be there when he needs something from him. Sex. Someone to keep his bed from going cold on lonely nights.

Mike spends the rest of the night staring into the dark, trying to blink back tears, hoping Harvey doesn't hear him cry.

Not that it would matter if he did.

Harvey doesn't care.

-

Mike feels Harvey shift out of bed, and when he hears the shower start running, he takes that as his cue to get the hell out of there. He wants to be spared any conversation about how letting him stay was a one-time thing.

He doesn't need to hear what he already knows.

So he gets dressed in yesterday's suit and heads straight to the office.

The office is where they pretend nothing ever happened.

And that's exactly what Mike is prepared to do.

-----

When Harvey arrives at work and calls Mike into his office, Mike isn't expecting anything. Just more work. Maybe a lecture about something he screwed up.

"Mike," Harvey says, looking up from his computer. "Shut the door behind you and sit down."

Mike does as he's told.

"You're wearing the same suit from yesterday," Harvey says, like an accusation even though it's just an observation.

"Sorry. I didn't get a chance to change."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you get a chance to change? You certainly left my place early enough to be able to."

"Who cares? It's just clothes, Harvey. Clothes. I swear to God you care more about clothes than you care about actual fucking people."

"Keep your voice down," Harvey warns.

"Don't you ever get sick of telling me what to do?"

"If you haven't noticed, I'm your boss. It's kind of my job."

"I'm not talking about work."

"Then what are you talking about?"

Mike lets out a disbelieving laugh, already feeling tears burn in his eyes. "Just... never mind. Can I leave now?"

"No. Not until you tell me what you meant by that."

"I'm talking about... us. You telling me to come over. You telling me to give you blow jobs in the back of town cars, for example."

"I didn't tell you to do those things. I asked you."

"What's the difference with you?"

"Asking means you can say no, Mike. At any damn time. I never made you do anything."

"You make it sound like it's so easy to say no to you."

"You've said no before, so don't act like you don't know how. You're a grown adult. You knew exactly what you were getting into."

Mike wipes at his tears. "You're such an asshole. I know it's easy for you, Harvey, because you don't give a shit about anybody but yourself, but that's not what it's like for me. And you don't understand how hard this is."

"Then why do it?" Harvey asks, his voice rising before he can stop it.

"Because I'm so fucking in love with you that I'll take whatever I can get! And don't bother telling me how pathetic that is, because I know. Believe me, I fucking know. I hate myself for it, for feeling this way, but I can't stop. I don't know how. And even if I did, I wouldn't want to. Because I don't want to lose you, which is so stupid because I never even had you in the first place."

"Mike... I really don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just forget I said it. I know you don't care about me, and that's the whole problem."

"I do care about you, Mike."

Mike just rolls his eyes.

"I'm sorry you felt like I was pushing you into things or making you do something you didn't want. That was never my intention. I just thought it was what we both wanted."

"Harvey, the first time we slept together, you pushed money into my hand afterward. I think that just about said it all."

"Come on, that was for a cab. I was just trying to be nice. I didn't think of it any other way, because that's not how I think of you."

"What do you think of me? I mean, really, Harvey? Other than the fact that I'm an easy fuck."

"Mike, stop. That's not true. I told you, I like you. I didn't ask you to stay last night because I don't care."

"Is that supposed to make me feel special? Because it doesn't."

"Let me take you out to dinner tonight."

"Is that a question or a demand?"

"It's a question. You can say no. I'd understand. I'm not good at apologies, and I owe you one. So please... let this be a start."

Mike agrees, of course.

It's Harvey.

He can't say no.

-----

 

Harvey told Mike to take the rest of the day off. To go home, get some sleep. Unlike the times when Mike wasn’t sure if Harvey was asking or telling, the tone of his voice this time was very clear -- he was definitely telling. Mike wasn’t going to argue with it, though. He was struggling just to go through the motions at this point, so he knew he stood no chance against bylaws and briefs.

He’d just had a breakdown in Harvey’s office and had accidentally thrown the L word at him. Harvey hadn’t even flinched, and Mike just assumed he was going to let it slide and pretend he hadn’t heard it, which worked for him, because he was going to pretend he’d never said it.

-----

He crashed hard when he got home. Sheer exhaustion is good for something, as it turns out. He managed a few solid hours of sleep, and more importantly, a few solid hours of feeling nothing at all. Not having to think, not having to worry, not having to do anything but exist without effort.

When he’d finally worn out his welcome with sleep, he groggily reached over and grabbed his phone from the nightstand to check the time. It was a little after five. While checking, he noticed he had two new text messages, so he opened them.

Both were from Harvey.

Are you okay? the first text read.

Mike couldn’t help but laugh at that. He couldn’t remember the last time he was truly okay.

The second text asked if they were still on for dinner.

Mike ignored the first question and answered the second with a simple yes.

"Great. Pick you up at 7. Wear something nice."

Mike figured the last part had to be a joke, considering he was sure there was nothing in his wardrobe that would meet Harvey Specter standards.

"Okay," he texted back before tossing the phone aside and crawling out from under the warmth of the covers to shower and get dressed.

-----

It was almost seven o’clock on the dot when Mike heard the doorbell, quickly followed by knocking. Which meant it was Harvey, because only Harvey was that impatient.

He flattened the few strands of hair sticking up and adjusted his tie in the mirror one last time before walking to the front door and pulling it open.

"Hey," Harvey greeted him with a smile.

That smile was really what had started it all. No matter how many times Mike saw it, and no matter the reason it was there, it always made his heart do something stupid.

"Uh, you could have just texted or called me to come out when you got here. You didn’t have to come all the way to my front door."

"Of course I did, how else would I walk you to the car?" A pause. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

Harvey walked with Mike down to where Ray was waiting in the town car. He opened the door for Mike, letting him climb in and get settled before closing it and walking around to the other side to get in himself.

"You look good, Mike. You’d look even better without the skinny tie, but I know that’s still a work in progress."

"Thanks... I guess. You look good too. Perfect, really. As expected," Mike said, his voice trailing off, the last words almost a whisper.

"Everything okay with you?"

"Everything’s fine."

"You know, Mike, in my experience, when people say things are fine, it usually means they’re not."

"Sometimes when people say things are fine, it means exactly that. So just drop it, Harvey," Mike snapped.

"All right. I’m sorry."

The rest of the ride passed in silence, and Mike was already regretting agreeing to this. He figured Harvey was probably thinking the same thing.

-

"Here we are," Ray announced, his voice cutting through the drawn-out silence and startling them both.

Harvey got out on his side, and Mike got out on his.

"I would have gotten your door for you," Harvey said when Mike came around the front of the car.

"Thanks, but I’m capable of getting my own damn door."

Harvey bit his tongue.

He really wanted this to go well.

But Mike seemed determined to make sure it didn’t.

 

-

 

They were seated quickly once inside the restaurant. One of the many perks of being Harvey Specter was that he didn’t typically have to wait long for anything.

From there, they were able to settle into something that almost seemed normal, and Harvey thought that maybe this was going to turn out okay after all.

The conversation was good. Mike seemed to be loosening up a little, showing some willingness to let Harvey in, which was funny considering Mike was usually such an open book any other time.

Harvey did take notice of how quickly Mike was downing the wine. At first, he didn’t say anything. Maybe Mike just needed to take the edge off, relax a little --that was understandable. Even when Mike started tripping over words and his speech slurred slightly, Harvey held back. He didn’t want to come off like he was lecturing him or telling him what to do.

But when Mike poured the last of the bottle into his glass and casually mentioned ordering another, Harvey felt like he had to say something.

"I think you should probably hold off on more alcohol and just focus on finishing your dinner."

"What? Harvey... I’m fine. I just need a little more wine. Come on."

"Mike, you really don’t. You practically drank that entire bottle yourself. You really think you need more?"

"Yeah, I do... it helps me relax, Harvey. And have fun. I mean, are you not having fun? Is that it?"

"I’d be having fun if you weren’t using our time together to get wasted."

"You’re such a damn liar."

"Really? And how’s that, Mike? You think I brought you here to watch you get drunk? Is that it?"

"Actually," Mike doesn't hesitate, like it's something he's been waiting to say all along. "I think you brought me here so you’d feel less guilty about just fucking me."

Mike’s voice was loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.

"Mike, stop."

"Why? Are you embarrassed of me or what? Only want people to know you fuck models but not your own associate? Yeah. That’s what I thought. You’re a shitty person. You know that?"

Harvey knew Mike was drunk. Knew he probably didn’t mean it.

That didn’t stop it from hurting.

"I should get you home," Harvey said, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

"Yeah, you should," Mike said as he pushed himself up from the table.

Harvey stepped in close, lightly gripping the back of Mike’s jacket. It was enough to steady him, but subtle enough that Mike wouldn’t notice and pull away. He used that same careful touch to guide Mike into the back of the car, making sure he didn’t hit his head getting in.

Harvey figured he’d have enough of a headache in the morning without adding to it.

-

The ride back to Mike’s apartment was much like the ride there--quiet.

Mike had his eyes closed, his head resting against the cool window, and Harvey kept his gaze fixed on him.

"I don’t feel good," Mike said about halfway through the drive. He didn’t look up or move.

"Do you need Ray to pull over?"

Mike didn’t answer.

Harvey took that as a no.

"Well, if you do... just say something."

The second the car pulled up outside Mike’s apartment, he shoved the door open, stumbled out, and threw up on the sidewalk. If Harvey didn’t know better, he’d think Mike had forced himself to hold it in just so Ray wouldn’t have to pull over.

Harvey walked him up the stairs, got him inside, and helped him into bed. He disappeared briefly, then came back with a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap before holding it out to him.

Mike took it, drank a few small sips, then set it on the nightstand.

"Harvey... I-"

"Just get some sleep."

Mike pulled the covers tighter around himself, his eyes drifting shut not long after.

Harvey stayed long enough to make sure he was settled.

Then he leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to Mike’s forehead, and whispered, "Feel better, kid," before heading out and making his way back to his own place.

 

-----

 

Regret wasted no time greeting Mike the second he opened his eyes. His head felt like it was on the verge of splitting open. The sun was barely shining through his window, yet it still felt far too bright. His apartment was quiet, yet it still felt far too loud.

He thought about pulling the covers over his head and willing himself back to sleep, but logically, he knew that was nothing more than wishful thinking. He had to get up. Life had to go on. Or at the very least, he had to make an effort to pretend it did.

There was that word again.

Pretend.

It was starting to feel like his world began and ended with it.

He tossed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. His legs were still a little shaky beneath him, and each step seemed to amplify his headache and stir up the nausea. The walk from the bedroom to the bathroom was short, but it felt much longer than it actually was.

Still, it was one of the few times he was thankful for having such a tiny apartment.

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the shower, testing the water with his hand, making it as hot as he could stand. Steam quickly filled the room as he stripped down, tossing his suit from the night before haphazardly onto the floor before stepping into the heat.

-

If nothing else, he felt more awake after the shower. His headache hadn’t eased, and the nausea still lingered, but a shower wasn’t exactly a miracle cure for either of those things.

He found some aspirin, popped them into his mouth, and chased them down with a bottle of water. He hoped it would help with the headache, because right now it hurt just to think, and with his mind refusing to do anything but, it was a pretty miserable combination.

Then again, he probably deserved to feel miserable after last night.

He spent a long time with his phone clutched in his hand, his thumb hovering over Harvey’s number, circling it more than once. He knew he had to call. Harvey deserved an apology.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Maybe it was because he didn’t know what to say. A simple I’m sorry didn’t feel like enough, but what else was there? And maybe he was getting ahead of himself anyway. Harvey probably wouldn’t even answer.

Mike wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

 

-----

 

Mike ended up staying in bed most of the day, not having the energy or motivation to do anything else. At some point, he drifted back to sleep for a few hours.

When he woke, his room was bathed in a soft orange glow, the sun just beginning to disappear behind the buildings outside. He reached for his phone.

This time, he didn’t overthink it.

He just dialed.

He wanted to get it over with. Be put out of his misery.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Harvey... it’s me."

"Mike. I was starting to think you weren’t going to call."

"Sorry it took so long, I, uh--"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I... I’m not doing anything."

"Do you want to come over?"

"Harvey, I kind of wanted to talk to you about last night."

"We can talk if you come over. What do you say?"

"Uh... yeah, sure. That works. When?"

"I have a quick errand to run, but how’s nine work for you?"

"That’s fine."

"Okay. I’ll see you then."

"Okay."

Mike stared at his phone for a moment after the call ended.

He figured he now knew exactly how Harvey wanted him to make up for last night.

 

-----

It was a little before nine when Mike knocked on Harvey's door. Harvey opened it and gestured for him to come in. Once inside, Harvey told him to take a seat on the couch before disappearing momentarily, returning with two bottles of water. He set them down on the coffee table and sat beside Mike.

A silence lingered.

Mike took that as his cue to start things.

He turned toward Harvey, reaching a hand to his belt buckle.

"What are you doing?" Harvey asked, catching Mike’s wrist and pushing his hand away.

"I thought you-- I mean, don’t you want me to...," Mike trailed off, his eyes immediately dropping to the floor.

"Jesus Christ, Mike. I didn’t ask you to come over here for that."

"But... I mean, if you want to, I’m okay with it. Really. I want to. I can make it up to you for last night."

"So what? We fuck and then everything’s all better? Is that how this works?"

"I don’t know, Harvey. I just assumed, because you invited me over, that’s what you wanted from me. That’s kind of what we do here, if you haven’t noticed."

"And that was working so well for you, wasn’t it? That’s why you broke down in tears in my office, right?"

Mike didn’t respond. Just kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

"Look at me, Mike."

Mike lifted his head.

"At me, Mike. Not through me."

Mike shifted his gaze, finally meeting Harvey’s.

"Listen to me. I know what you want from me, and it’s definitely not just sex. Because with you, it’s not just sex. It’s never been. And I should have known that. But I got caught up in my own needs and wants and ignored yours. And for that, I’m truly sorry. I am. Believe me, I don’t want to be the shitty person you accused me of being last night."

"You’re not a shitty person. I’m really sorry I said that. Actually... I’m just really sorry about last night in general. I was mad at myself, and I took it out on you."

"What would you say to wiping the slate clean and trying this whole thing again?"

"I think I’d like that," Mike said, the corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile.

"Good."

"So, uh... Harvey. If I can ask, what did you invite me here for?"

"Right, about that. Since you didn’t seem too keen on my restaurant choice last night, I thought I could make it up to you with a movie night. I even got--actually, hold on a second."

Harvey was already halfway into the next room before he finished the sentence. He returned a moment later with a bag, holding it out to Mike.

Mike took it and peeked inside.

"Oh, you are awesome," Mike said, spotting the assortment of movie theater snacks.

"Thought you might like that. I’ll grab us something sugary to drink and make some popcorn if you want to pick out a movie."

"You’re letting me pick the movie? That’s a lot of responsibility."

"I trust you can handle it."

Mike turned on the TV and flipped through the options, eventually landing on something neither of them had ever heard of. Not that it really mattered.

The movie wasn’t the point.

"This is really sweet," Mike said partway through.

"Of course it is. You’re practically eating pure sugar."

"I’m not talking about the candy. I mean this. Tonight. Nobody’s really done something like this for me before, so... thank you."

"You don’t need to thank me for something I should have been doing from the beginning. Now would you quit hogging all the licorice?"

For a night that had started off on the edge of disaster, it had turned into something unexpectedly perfect. Neither of them wanted it to end, but they were both fighting off yawns, coming down from the sugar rush. It was also pushing three in the morning, which didn’t help.

"Do you want to stay the night? Just to sleep--to clarify. I’m not asking for anything else."

"I know you aren’t. And yeah, I’d like to stay."

"Great. I’ll go find you something to change into."

 

-----

 

Mike had started to gather up the empty bags and boxes of candy, along with the random pieces of popcorn scattered across Harvey's coffee table that he was sure cost more than everything he owned put together.

"What are you doing?" Harvey asked, his voice startling Mike.

"Oh. I was just trying to clean up a bit."

"Don’t worry about it, Mike. I’ve got it. You just go get changed."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mike. I’ve got it. Go change," he said, tossing the clothes in Mike’s direction.

Mike caught them. "Where can I change?"

"You can use the bedroom. I’ll finish cleaning up here and be in shortly."

Mike walked down the hallway and into Harvey’s bedroom. He’d never felt out of place in there before, but then again, every other time he’d been in that room, he’d had Harvey’s full attention. Now he was just... there.

Alone.

And it made him feel like he didn’t belong.

He tried to shake the thought and focused on getting changed instead. Once he was done, he climbed into bed. Harvey came in shortly after, grabbing clothes from his dresser and changing where he stood, not bothering with the bathroom. He folded what he’d been wearing neatly and set it aside before climbing in beside him.

"Do you need anything before I turn out the light?"

"No. I’m good."

Harvey switched off the light, and the room was quickly swallowed by darkness. Silence settled in.

Harvey was just starting to drift off when he was pulled back by the unmistakable sound of sniffling.

"Mike? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep," Mike said, his voice barely audible.

"It doesn’t sound like nothing. Want me to turn on the light?"

"Please don’t."

"Okay. Then talk to me."

"It’s just... this is the first time I’ve slept in someone’s bed without having to... you know, have sex with them first. I know it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter. I’m just exhausted and I don’t know why I’m--"

"Mike. Stop. It’s not stupid. And I’m sorry."

Harvey wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for --himself, or just everything--but the guilt hit him all the same.

"Come here," he said, reaching out in the dark and pulling Mike closer.

Mike went easily, settling into him, accepting the hold without hesitation.

Maybe that was what he needed all along.

Because within minutes, he was asleep.

Harvey stayed awake a little longer, making sure Mike was really out before letting himself drift off too.

-----

Mike woke to the feeling of Harvey shifting, his arms slipping away from around him. For a moment, he considered asking him to stay. Just a little longer.

But the last thing he wanted was to seem needy.

So he stayed still, letting Harvey think he was still asleep.

He lay there until he heard the shower start, until the faint smell of coffee drifted into the room, before finally pushing himself out of bed and heading into the kitchen.

"Morning," Harvey said over the rim of his coffee mug.

"Morning," Mike echoed.

"You sleep okay?"

"I did," Mike said honestly. Once Harvey had pulled him close, sleep had come easy. In a way he couldn’t remember it ever being.

At least, not without help.

"Good. I’m glad. I made you coffee if you want it," Harvey said, nudging the mug across the counter.

Mike stepped forward and picked it up. "Did you--"

"Sugar? Milk? A little vanilla? Already added it."

"How’d you know that’s how I like it?"

"I pay attention."

"Right. All those times you stole my coffee."

"Like I said. I pay attention."

"Well... thanks," Mike said, taking a small sip before setting the mug back down.

"Mike... about what you said last night, before you went to sleep. Is that something you want to talk about?"

"Are you seriously asking me if I want to talk about my fucked up past relationships with you? Where is Harvey, and what have you done to him?"

"I’m being serious, Mike."

"So am I. Why would I want to talk to you about that? And why would you even want to hear it?"

"I don’t know. It just seemed like it was bothering you. You were crying, and I thought maybe talking would help or something. I never said I was good at this kind of thing."

"This kind of thing? You mean caring? Jesus, Harvey. You make it sound like it’s the hardest thing in the world to care about me."

"You know what? Just forget I said anything. I was trying to help, not start a fight with you."

"Fine. Whatever. It’s forgotten. Anyway, I should probably get dressed and get going."

"You don’t have to. You can stay as long as you want."

"No. I should go. I’ve got things to do. I need to visit my Grammy."

"Do you need a ride?"

"No. Just stop, Harvey. I’m fine. I can take care of myself."

Mike headed back down the hallway, pulling on the same clothes from the night before. They were wrinkled, but they’d do.

Something about the way Harvey had asked if he wanted to talk had gotten under his skin.

Logically, he knew it was stupid. Harvey was trying to be nice. Trying to do the right thing after hearing him cry like some weak, pathetic mess.

And maybe that was it.

Maybe Mike was angry because, for the second time, he’d let Harvey see how broken he was.

And Harvey had seemed so ready to fix it.

To fix him.

And fuck Harvey for thinking he was something that could be fixed. Like he was some kind of side project.

The more Mike let himself think about it, the angrier he got.

Which was exactly why he needed to leave.

Before he took that anger out on Harvey. Because he didn't deserve it. Mike knew that.

"I put your coffee in a cup so you can take it with you," Harvey said when Mike came back out.

Mike didn’t argue. Just took it and thanked him.

"Will you call or text me later? Just so I know you got home okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. No problem."

"You can also call if you just want to talk. About anything. I know I do most of the talking, but I can listen too."

"Okay. I’ve got to go, Harvey. Thanks for last night... and for letting me stay."

"We’ll have to do it again sometime."

And with that, Mike was out the door.

 

-----

 

It was the same song, different verse for their next date. Everything had been going smoothly, almost perfectly. They both seemed to be having a good time, until the very end of the night, when Mike tried to pick a fight with him. He accused Harvey of having ulterior motives for taking him out, but Harvey just bit his tongue and tried to let the comments roll off his back. He refused to let Mike bait him into an argument.

Harvey offered to have Ray drop him off at home, but Mike refused, saying he didn’t need Harvey’s charity and could find his own way.

About an hour after they parted ways, Harvey got a phone call. Mike apologized for how he’d acted and for the things he’d said. Even though the apologies were starting to feel a little empty, Harvey accepted them.

Because it was the only way forward.

And he wanted this to work more than anything.

 

-----

 

They ended their next date back at Harvey’s condo, mouths and hands all over each other. Harvey managed to pull back just long enough to ask if Mike was okay with this.

Mike didn’t answer.

He just kissed the question right out of his mouth, made Harvey forget he’d even asked it.

Mike’s hands moved up, working at the knot of Harvey’s tie, before Harvey led him down the hallway and pushed him onto the bed like they’d done so many times before.

It felt different this time.

But also exactly the same.

 

-

 

Harvey rolled off of Mike and settled beside him. For a moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing, filling the silence that stretched just a little too long.

Harvey finally moved, rolling back over and pressing a firm kiss to Mike’s lips, one that lingered even after he pulled away.

When he came back to bed, he was dressed in boxers and a T-shirt. He lifted the sheet Mike had tucked himself under and slid in beside him, pressing close.

Harvey’s skin was cool, and when it brushed against the lingering heat of Mike’s body, it sent a shiver through him.

"Are you cold? I can turn the heat up or grab another blanket," Harvey asked.

"No. I’m okay."

"You sure?"

"I’m sure. Thanks, though," Mike said, turning onto his side, facing away.

"Let me know if you change your mind."

Harvey slid one arm beneath him and draped the other across him, resting his head against the back of Mike’s shoulder.

Mike had never really pictured Harvey as someone who snuggled. Especially not after the way all of this had started.

But the guy was basically an octopus.

Not that Mike necessarily minded.

It was just... different.

He lay there for a long time, listening to Harvey’s steady breathing against his neck.

"Harvey?"

"Yeah?"

"Those things you say to me... when you’re... when we’re... I mean... do you actually mean those? Or is that just... I don’t know. Heat of the moment stuff? I don’t care either way. I was just... curious."

"I don’t say things I don’t mean, Mike."

Mike didn’t respond. Just let the silence settle back in, waiting until he could feel Harvey drift off before finally closing his own eyes.

 

-----

 

When Mike woke up, he reached over and felt the space beside him.

Empty.

Cold.

Harvey must have been up for a while.

He climbed out of bed, showered, and got dressed before heading out to the kitchen, where the smell caught him off guard.

Not coffee.

Something better.

"Good morning."

"Good morning. Hope you don’t mind that I used your shower."

"Only if you don’t mind that I made you breakfast."

"It smells incredible. What is it?"

"Apple cinnamon pancakes. And, of course, bacon."

"That sounds amazing. I can’t remember the last time I had a breakfast that didn’t come out of a box or wasn’t drinkable."

"Well then, feel free to make up for lost time," Harvey said, setting a plate down in front of him. "Here. Sit. Eat."

Mike climbed onto the chair and grabbed his fork, immediately taking a bite.

"Wow."

"That a good wow?"

"Incredible," Mike said, already going in for another bite.

"Glad you like it," Harvey said, taking his own seat beside him.

"I didn’t know you could cook."

"I can’t. Not really. But the few things I can make, I do them perfectly. At least, I like to think so."

"No, you’re right. This is perfect," Mike replies, entirely sure he's even talking about the food.

The rest of the morning went well. The conversation flowed easily, and for once, when Mike left Harvey’s place, it wasn’t on a bad note.

Which is why Harvey was so confused when Mike started ignoring his calls and texts afterward, making excuses for why they couldn’t see each other outside of work.

 

-----

 

"Do you have those briefs I asked you for?" Harvey leaned over the edge of Mike’s cubicle.

"Uh, yeah. They’re... somewhere here," Mike said, digging through the pile of papers on his desk before finding them and handing them over.

"Thank you. Also, Mike... are you doing anything tonight?"

"No, not really. Do you have more work for me?"

"No. I just wanted to see if you maybe wanted to do something."

"I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about... us... at work."

"We’re not. But you don’t answer my calls or texts anymore, so that limits my options."

"Sorry. I’ve just been busy, I guess."

"Are you mad at me or something? I thought we were good."

"I’m not mad. And we are... we’re good. I just... I don’t want to talk about this here. We can talk tonight."

"So that’s a yes to the date?"

"Sure."

"Excellent. Meet at my place around seven? Or do you want me to pick you up?"

"I’ll come to you."

"All right. Sounds good."

 

-

 

It was just before seven, and there was no sign of Mike.

Harvey waited until it was actually seven before calling. There could be a reasonable explanation--traffic, something coming up.

Or something worse.

That thought made his chest tighten, and he quickly pushed it away.

Mike answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Where are you? You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago."

"Hey... I’m sorry I didn’t call, Harvey, but I’m kind of feeling like crap. I think I caught whatever’s going around at the office, so I’m going to have to cancel tonight."

"Sorry to hear that. Do you need me to bring you anything?"

"No, I’m fine. I think I just need to sleep it off. You’re not mad, are you?"

"No. Of course not. We can reschedule. Your health comes first. Get some rest."

"That’s the plan."

"All right. Hope you feel better, Mike."

"I’ll try."

Mike hung up.

Then turned back toward the barstool where he’d been sitting before Harvey called.

 

-

It was a little after one in the morning when Mike stood outside his apartment door, drunkenly trying to shove his key into the lock before finally realizing it was already unlocked. He just turned the knob and pushed it open.

Mike jumped when he was greeted by Harvey Specter sitting on his couch.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Where were you?"

"How did you even get in here?"

"You left the door unlocked."

"You realize that’s not an open invitation for you to just waltz into my damn apartment whenever you feel like it," Mike said, tossing his keys onto the counter.

"I asked you where you were," Harvey repeated, pushing himself off the couch and stepping closer until he was standing directly in front of Mike.

"I was just... I was out, okay?" Mike said, unable to meet his eyes.

"You smell like a goddamn brewery."

"I had a few drinks. Look, Harvey, I’m sorry. It’s just I--"

"You lied to me."

Harvey’s voice was steady, but there was something in his expression that made Mike’s chest tighten.

"I didn’t mean to. I’m really sorry."

"Are you? Because it feels like you’ve been saying that a lot lately. Like it’s just something you throw at me and expect it to fix everything. And you know what? I try. But it doesn’t."

"Harvey, you don’t understand--"

"No, you’re right. I don’t," Harvey cut in. "Because I think what we have is something good. It feels right. And then you get pissed off at me out of nowhere, accuse me of things I would never do to you, or you stop answering my calls, ignore my texts, lie to me. And somehow I’m the one left feeling guilty, like I did something wrong, trying to figure out what it is, trying to figure you out, and I can’t, Mike. You won’t let me. So no, I don’t understand. And that’s the whole fucking problem, isn’t it?"

"Harvey..."

"Whatever you’re about to say, just save it. It’s late, and I need to get home," Harvey said, stepping toward the door.

"Please don’t leave," Mike said, grabbing his arm and stopping him. "Everybody always leaves me."

"I’ve got work in the morning," Harvey replied, pulling his arm free and walking to the door.

He paused, hand on the knob, then turned back.

"By the way, there’s soup in your fridge. That’s why I came here. To bring you soup. Because I thought you were actually sick when you called me, and I wanted you to feel better." He let out a short, humorless breath. "Guess that makes me look like an idiot, huh?"

He opened the door and slammed it behind him on the way out.

The sound echoed through the apartment, sharp and final.

Like a period at the end of a sentence Mike didn’t know how to fix.

 

-----

 

Mike knew the day was going to be awful. He could feel the dread already starting to creep in the second he opened his eyes from the few hours of sleep he had somehow managed to get. He had to go to work, though. He had to face Harvey. There was no way around it.

So he dragged himself out of bed, pushed himself to get ready, and tried to move forward so he could just get through the day.

He wasn’t, however, expecting his bike to get a flat tire halfway to work. Nor was he expecting that he wouldn’t be able to call a cab, because, as it turned out, he had also forgotten his wallet at home. No cash.

And to top it all off, it started raining.

Not just rain.

A complete downpour.

Just fucking perfect.

If he were ever going to believe in karma, now would have been the time to start.

-

"You’re late," Harvey said the moment Mike stepped into his office.

Mike was soaked through and still trying to catch his breath from having to jog his bike the rest of the way after the flat.

"Five minutes," Mike said, glancing at his watch. Honestly, he was impressed it was only five.

"Late is late. Five minutes or an hour, it’s still late."

"I know, and I’m sorry, it’s just my b--"

"Just stop, Mike. Instead of apologizing and making excuses, why don’t you just show up on time? Whether you like it or not, punctuality is part of the job. And if you can’t handle that, then maybe this isn’t the right job for you."

Mike had expected Harvey to be pissed. He’d expected the cold shoulder. He knew he deserved it.

But no matter how much he thought he’d prepared himself for it, he realized now that he hadn’t.

Not even close.

The tone. The words. The fact that Harvey hadn’t even bothered to look up from his computer.

It hit harder than he expected.

"It won’t happen again," Mike said quietly.

"Donna has briefs for you to proof. I need them on my desk by twelve. Not a second later."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"That’s it. Get out of my office and get to work."

Mike didn’t say anything else. He just lowered his head and walked out.

He felt completely defeated.

And for once, he was actually looking forward to burying himself in work.

The workload was heavier than usual, and Mike quickly realized there was a very real chance he wouldn’t get it done in time. But he pushed through anyway, forcing himself to focus.

There was no way he was missing that deadline.

He didn’t want to give Harvey another reason to be mad at him.

There were already enough of those.

 

-----

 

It was 11:50 when he finished the last line. He gave it one final pass, then jumped up from his desk and rushed toward Harvey’s office.

"He’s not in there," Donna said, stopping him mid-stride.

Mike turned. "Where is he?"

"Meeting."

"When will he be back?"

"Not until later. But he told me to give you these," she said, holding out a manila folder.

Mike stepped forward and took it, flipping it open immediately. "Why would he want me to look at these? I’ve already gone through them a million times. There’s nothing useful here. He even agreed it was a dead end."

"Guess you’ve got some figuring out to do then," Donna said. "Oh, and Louis will be stopping by your cubicle shortly. Harvey didn’t think you’d mind the extra work."

Mike let out a dry laugh. "Harvey’s sending Louis to me now? That’s... great. When do I need this back to him?"

"Three o’clock. Not a second later."

"Are you kidding me? That’s three hours. I already spent twice that on this stuff last week, and that was without Louis breathing down my neck."

"Oh look, the puppy learned how to tell time. How impressive. Guess that means you should get to work."

"He’s just doing this to punish me," Mike muttered.

"And you don’t think you deserve it?"

Mike blinked. "How did you even hear that? Actually, forget it. I didn’t say I don’t deserve it. I know I do. Probably worse."

"You really hurt him, Mike. And you need to fix it."

"I know I did, but... it’s not that easy. I can’t even apologize anymore. He doesn’t believe me when I say I’m sorry because I've said it so many times."

"Maybe that’s because you don’t believe it either."

"That’s not true. I do mean it."

"Then fix it."

Mike let out a frustrated sigh. "Before I figure that out, I’ve got to figure this case out first."

It wasn’t entirely untrue.

But mostly, he just didn’t want to keep having this conversation.

"Hey, Mike. One more thing," Donna called after him.

He stopped and turned back. "Yeah?"

"If I find out you hurt Harvey again, a heavy workload and a dead-end case will be the least of your problems. Is that understood?"

"Yeah. I got it."

"Good," Donna said, smiling like she hadn’t just issued a threat she fully intended to follow through on.

 

-----

Mike went back to his desk, put his head down, and focused. Looking over the same lines again and again, only to keep coming up empty. After an hour and a half of small print blurring together, Louis stopped by and handed him briefs that needed to be proofed. Those, at least, he could get done.

He decided to knock those out first, then circle back to Harvey’s work. Something he normally wouldn’t do--prioritizing Louis over Harvey--but he was getting nowhere with what Harvey had given him. At this point, he wasn’t even sure there was a solution buried anywhere in those pages. Like he’d told Donna, Harvey himself had agreed it was a dead end.

Proofing Louis’ briefs went quicker, though it still took a decent amount of time. Both Harvey and Louis had a habit of taking for granted just how fast Mike could actually work.

Once he finished, he went back to Harvey’s files.

He searched. And searched again.

All while watching the clock tick down.

With ten minutes left, frustration finally got the better of him. He dropped the papers back onto his desk, dragged a hand through his hair, and let out a slow breath.

He was ready to let the clock run out.

Except... the paper sitting there unfinished, unresolved -- it bothered him.

Harvey wouldn’t give him something like this just to be petty.

At least, Mike didn’t think he would.

So he looked again.

And even though he could recite the page from memory, this time something clicked.

The answer practically jumped off the page.

Exactly what he needed.

Exactly what Harvey needed.

And he couldn’t believe he’d missed it.

He grabbed the rest of the papers and bolted from his desk, sprinting toward Harvey’s office like the building was on fire.

"Please tell me he’s in there," Mike panted when he reached Donna’s desk.

"He is. But he said you can leave the work with me."

"Are you kidding me? Donna, please. Help me out here."

Donna considered it for a moment, then gave a small, approving nod.

"Thank you," Mike said quickly, already moving past her and into Harvey’s office.

 

-

 

"I found what you needed," Mike said, crossing the room and setting the file down on Harvey’s desk. "I can’t believe it took me this long, and I don’t know how I missed it before, but I’ve got your smoking gun."

The key section was marked in yellow.

Mike waited.

Harvey didn’t move. Didn’t even look up from his computer.

"Harvey, I busted my ass looking for that."

"If you’re looking for a gold star, sorry. I left those at home."

"I’m not asking for a pat on the back. But you could at least acknowledge the work I just did for you."

"I don’t have to acknowledge shit, Mike. It’s your job to do the work I give you," Harvey snapped.

Mike swallowed. "You’re right. I’m sorry. Do you need anything else from me? If not, I’m sure Louis would be more than happy to find something."

"Feel free to go to Louis."

Mike let out a quiet sigh. "You would’ve never sent me to Louis before last night."

"Things change."

"Can we just talk about this?"

"I don’t have anything to say to you right now."

"I get that. But will you at least listen? Ten minutes. That’s all I’m asking. Please, Harvey."

There was something raw in Mike’s voice now. Desperate.

Harvey finally looked up.

"Ten minutes. Not now. Come back to my office at seven."

"Thank you."

 

-----

 

Mike finished up Louis’s work a little after six, which left him with an hour to wait.

Wait and think.

Time dragged. Every tick of the clock felt like it stretched on forever. He ran through everything he could possibly say to Harvey, every version of an apology he could come up with, trying to find something that would actually make Harvey believe him.

None of it felt right.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking into a losing battle.

Eventually, the clock crawled its way to seven. Most of the building had already cleared out, or was in the process of it. Mike took a few steadying breaths before heading toward Harvey’s office.

Here goes everything.

He knocked.

Harvey glanced up from behind his desk and motioned for him to come in.

"Sit," Harvey said.

Mike did.

"You said you wanted ten minutes, so you’ve got it," Harvey added, glancing down at his watch before looking back up.

"Um..." Mike started, thrown by the fact that Harvey actually meant it. "Look, Harvey, I know I messed up. I just don’t know how to apologize in a way that’s going to make you believe me. I don’t want to lose you over a stupid mistake."

"You realize it’s not a mistake if you did it intentionally," Harvey said. "You knew what you were doing when you lied to me. The only mistake you made was getting caught, and I’m guessing that’s the one thing you actually are sorry for."

"How can you even say that to me?"

"You’ve got nine minutes."

"God damn it, Harvey! Do not put a time limit on this conversation," Mike snapped. He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to pull himself back together. "Please... just don’t," he added, his voice softer now, almost fragile.

That was enough.

"I’m sorry," Harvey said, his tone shifting. "No time limit. Just... talk to me. Okay?"

Mike swallowed.

"You know, when I first met you, I felt like I was already a little bit in love with you. I know, that sounds stupid. I didn’t even know you. I told myself it was just gratitude. I mean, no one’s ever believed in me or given me an opportunity like you did. It made sense at the time."

He let out a breath.

"But it wasn’t that. Because the more I was around you, the harder it got. The more I started to feel. And you didn’t feel the same way. You didn’t care. I mean, how many times did you tell me that, point blank?"

Mike shook his head slightly.

"I tried to keep my distance. Tried to convince myself I was okay with whatever we were. Colleagues... friends... I don’t even know. But you were in my life, and that was enough."

His voice wavered.

"And then you kissed me that night in your office, and it... I don’t know. It changed everything."

"I’m not sure I follow where you’re going with this," Harvey said.

"After that, we started sleeping together," Mike continued. "And God, you don’t know how hard that was for me. To have all of you in the moment, and then feel like I never had you at all afterward."

He shook his head quickly.

"And I’m not blaming you for that. I’m not. I’m blaming myself. I thought I could handle it, and I couldn’t. It just left me wanting more. Needing more. I needed you to care about me the way I cared about you."

"If you wanted me to care so badly, then why push me away when I do?" Harvey asked. "Why punish me for it?"

"I don’t know."

"God damn it, Mike. You realize you drive me insane with that? Just tell me. Was it something I did? Something I said?"

The moment the words left him, Harvey regretted them.

Mike’s eyes dropped to the floor.

"I’m sorry," Harvey said quickly, getting up and moving to sit beside him instead. "I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just... frustrated. And I don’t know what to do with that."

Mike stayed quiet.

Didn’t move.

Just stared at the floor.

Harvey let the silence sit, giving him space.

"I just wanted you to tell me you love me," Mike said finally, wiping at his eyes. "I told you I loved you. That day in the office. On the phone. In texts. And you’ve never said it back."

His voice cracked.

"And that’s fine. I don’t want you to say something you don’t mean. But I can’t stand not hearing it. Especially when you have no problem telling me how perfect I am while you’re fucking me."

He let out a bitter, broken laugh.

"If I’m so perfect, why can’t you just love me?"

Silence.

"That’s why I lied to you," Mike added quietly. "I just couldn’t stand not hearing it anymore."

"I don’t know what you want me to say right now," Harvey admitted.

Mike laughed again, but there was nothing behind it.

"I think the fact that you still don’t know what to say says everything, doesn't it?"

He wiped his face with his sleeve.

"I should... go."

"Don’t go."

Mike paused at the door.

"Thanks for the ten minutes."

And then he was gone.

And Harvey sat there, feeling like he had just watched his entire world walk out on him.

All because he couldn’t say three words.

 

-----

Harvey hadn’t left the office. He stayed long after everyone else had gone, just sitting at his desk, thinking about Mike. He’d poured himself a glass of Scotch hours ago, thought about drowning himself in it. Drinking until he could forget Mike -- forget everything about him.

But that was the problem.

There was nothing about Mike that was even remotely forgettable.

Harvey needed to fix this.

He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair, shrugged it on, and headed out.

-----

 

Mike was lying on the couch, not really watching anything. The TV was on, but only for the noise, something to fill the silence and drown out the thoughts running through his head.

He expected Harvey to call.

Harvey always called.

When he didn’t, Mike found himself regretting ever saying how he felt. Not because it wasn’t true, but because Harvey had reacted exactly the way he knew he would.

The knock at the door startled him.

He rubbed at his eyes and checked the time.

Too late for it to be anyone but Harvey.

He considered staying quiet. Pretending he was asleep.

Another knock.

Louder this time. More urgent.

Mike pushed the blanket off and got to his feet, walking slowly to the door. His hand rested on the knob, but he hesitated.

"Mike. Just... please open the door."

That word.

Please.

It always got to him.

He slid the lock back and opened the door.

"What do you want from me?"

"There’s something I didn’t tell you back at the office that I should have."

"Harvey, it’s late. Don’t you think it can wait?"

"I love you."

Mike blinked. "Right. And how much have you had to drink?"

"I haven’t had anything to drink."

"Then why would you say that to me?"

"Because I mean it."

"And I’m just supposed to believe that? You let me walk out of your office. You could’ve said it then, if you really meant it."

"Can I come in and try to explain? Please."

There was that word again.

"Fine," Mike said, stepping aside and letting him in.

He shut the door behind them and went back to the couch, sitting down. Harvey followed, taking the spot beside him.

"So? Talk."

Harvey took a breath.

"You told me that when you first met me, you fell a little bit in love with me. Well... maybe the same thing happened to me. I just told myself it was physical attraction. I tried to ignore it."

He let out a quiet laugh.

"But I couldn’t. I kept thinking about you. All the time. At the most random moments."

He glanced down briefly before continuing.

"I was the first one to give in. I kissed you because I thought it would get it out of my system."

It didn’t.

"It made it worse. Because I realized I needed more from you. Then we slept together, and that only intensified everything. I knew it was a slippery slope, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t know how to ask for more than what we already had."

"Why are you telling me this now?" Mike asked quietly.

"Because you need to know this isn’t as one-sided as you think."

Silence settled between them.

"If you meant it, you should’ve said it back at the office," Mike said. "Not waited until I walked away."

"You want to know why I didn’t?"

"Why?"

"Because I don’t say things I don’t mean. And I wasn’t going to say it until I was sure."

He exhaled slowly.

"I don’t know much about love. But I do know it’s not supposed to hurt. And when you’d fight with me, or say things, or ignore me, or lie to me... it hurt. It made me question what I was feeling."

He looked at Mike then.

"But when I thought about losing you, that hurt more."

A pause.

"So that’s where I stand. It’s your call what happens next. I’ll respect whatever you decide. But I do love you. And I want to be with you. You deserved to hear that. No matter what."

The silence that followed couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds.

But it felt endless.

Then Mike reached over, cupped Harvey’s face, and kissed him.

Soft.

"You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that," he murmured. "I want to be with you too."

Harvey pulled back slightly. "Are you sure? I mean... are we okay to move on from all of this? Leave everything behind us?"

"I’m willing to, if you are. I just want this...us...to work. More than anything."

"I think we can manage that," Harvey said, leaning in to steal another quick kiss.

"Can you say it one more time?"

"Say what?"

Mike just gave him a look.

"Right. That. I love you, Mike."

Mike let out a small laugh.

"What’s so funny?"

"Nothing. It’s just... the great Harvey Specter, sitting in my crappy apartment, talking about feelings and telling me he loves me. It’s kind of surreal."

"Hey, don’t let that get out. I’ve got a reputation to maintain."

"I think Donna already knows your secret."

"Donna doesn’t count. Donna knows everything."

"Fair enough. So... since I’m wide awake now, do you want to watch a movie or something? I kind of owe you a date."

"Hmm. Do I want to watch a movie with you on your tiny TV, sitting on your ridiculously uncomfortable couch, when we both have work in the morning?"

"Oh...right..."

"That sounds perfect, Mike. I’d love to."

Mike smiles, relief flooding him. "Great. Are you hungry? I could make something."

"What were you thinking?"

"Well... this pretty great guy brought me soup the other day that I never got around to eating. How’s that sound?"

"I think I’d like that."

 

-----

 

They spent the rest of the night on the couch, eating soup and commenting on the movie Mike had picked. At some point, Mike pulled his legs up and shifted closer, resting his head against Harvey’s chest.

He listened to the steady beat of Harvey’s heart beneath his shirt.

It was calming.

Grounding.

His eyes grew heavy the longer he listened, and when Harvey’s fingers found their way into his hair, gently running through it, sleep came quickly.

When Mike finally drifted off, Harvey reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch and pulled it down over them both. He kicked off his shoes, pulled his legs up, and stayed there, watching Mike sleep until his own eyes started to close.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

No more tension.

No more holding back.

No more pretending.

Just them.

Exactly the way it was always meant to be.