Chapter Text
Mike watches the elevator number slowly tick downwards, sending him to the darkest depths of Pearson Hardman. The IT department.
He needs to see if there's anyone that could have possibly seen Rachel's access code, used it, and gotten her fired. Maybe this entire thing was a stroke of good luck— though Mike wouldn't know it at the time.
"I'm looking for Ben," Mike says, irritation present in his voice at this snarky IT guy.
With as much sass as he was given, the man replied, "It's Benjamin. You don't go by Mike, do you?"
"Actually, I prefer it." A small line of tension forms in his forehead as Benjamin gives a self-assured hmph.
Mike huffs, "I emailed you about access codes?"
"Right, yes, I can't give you one. You're a first year associate," he says smugly, turning away dismissively.
"Don't want one—"
"Of course you do. Everyone wants one," Benjamin asserts, "But that's just how the cookie crumbles. First year? No code."
Mike shakes his head. "I need to know if someone has been asking for anyone else's access codes." Ben's small laugh almost throws Mike for a loop. So gentle and genuine compared to his self-righteous, haughty demeanour.
"And I won't be telling you," he affirms turning his back. Mike's eyes catch the paper in Ben's hand and an idea forms.
Mike challenges, "Tell you what, Ben. If I can recite all the companies and the money they owe from the document in your hand, you give me the access code."
"Well—"
"—And give me one of the laptops you guys use."
Ben rustles the paper and chuckles, "If you get even a single digit, comma, or period wrong, you're never getting that code, Michael." The associate tries to ignore the use of his full name and how it causes his heart to thump a little faster for just a moment."
"You're on. And there's no periods on that sheet."
The associate that called him on the phone— Michael Ross— walks away with the name of the person that asked for the acess code. Benjamin watches him walk away, his mind somehow not able to keep up with the past couple minutes.
Of course, he has to admit that he was a little bit struck at how disorganised the man looked when he stepped through the elevator doors. Though his suit was certainly worn correctly, the tie strays just slightly to the left, one of his pant pockets is slightly inside out, and his pant legs are folded unevenly. His hair, however, is the most striking part. It sticks out in whatever direction it wants, an untamable beast that distinguishes him from the hundreds of tidy lawyers at the firm.
It's a great shame that the man goes by Mike as Michael fits him much better. A name like Michael smoothly rolls off the tongue, a perfect name for someone with such soft features and kind eyes. Mike sounds like a name belonging to an average man, not this picture of… well, he'll admit it, beauty.
Now, by no means is Benjamin going to swoon like a medieval maiden, but he finds himself unable to completely turn Michael Ross away when he asks for confidential information.
In fact, if Michael had begged to be given an acess code, Benjamin isn't sure if he could have stayed strong and turned the man away. Perhaps thats why he accepts Michael's ridiculous wager. To give him a chance to get what he wants.
Surprisingly, the man wins the wager despite the odds. Benjamin finds his heart unable to catch up with his head as the cardiac muscle thumps rapidly and his neurons seem to be getting tired.
Only at Michael's expectant look does he remember what the terms of their deal entail. Benjamin rattles off the name that he remembers, watching the features of the associate's face scrunch in a way that almost reminds him of a concerned puppy.
He finally snaps out of his trance as he watches Michael hurriedly walk away, only to be hypnotised by the swaying hips that are quickly hidden by the closing elevator doors. Even after five minutes pass, Benjamin can't seem to get the associate out of his mind.
Dazed, he retreats to the storage room where they keep the extra laptops. After a quick ponder, Benjamin shamefully picks out their best device— even better than his own, truthfully— and makes his way to the elevator.
Entering the bullpen feels like entering the lion's den. Thankfully, the Lions don't scare him after never winning the super bowl. What does scare him is Michael going through a large stack of papers with such speed that it looks as if he's barely skimming the words— though he knows better than to assume that. The action itself isn't what frightens him, it's just that Michael is the one doing it.
Every few seconds, he places his pen horizontally into his mouth, pink lips closing around the object. The sight of it squeezes his stomach a little bit— maybe a little lower than that if he's being completely honest— but he ignores it.
When Benjamin approaches, Mike takes a few seconds to look up at him through his lashes. The technician loses his train of thought at the sight, stumbling out something about being a man of his word.
When he gives the laptop to Mike, the urge to stay longer starts to eat at him. Of course, that would be odd, right? He can't just stand there and say nothing…
"If you use it for gay porn, I'll know." Holy fumble. Benjamin walks away as if he didn't just absolutely airball that entire conversation.
As Mike watches him leave, the parting words strike him suddenly. Face burning, Mike turns his red face back to his work.
Gay porn? Gay? Does Benjamin think he's…? Does he sound gay? Does he look gay? Was that a dig at him? Is it weird if he's offended at being assumed gay??
…
Is he gay?
The thought never crossed his mind before. Being with a man, he means. It's not exactly legal for two men to get married so the idea just didn't seem plausible.
But there have been times where Mike has found himself weak to the charms of some men. His friend Trevor comes to mind, the thought somewhat taboo. Jenny always joked that there was something more between him and Trevor, laughing at how she felt more like the third wheel.
Was he attracted to Trevor? Well, there's no shame in admitting that he felt deeply inclined to take care of the man. And Trevor, by no means, is unattractive…
"Mike," a voice startles him. Harvey stands before him, eyebrows raised as if he's been waiting for Mike's response for a while. Which, judging by his growing impatience, he has been.
Mike nods quickly. "Yes, I understand."
"I haven't even asked you anything yet. Come on, we're going on the road," Harvey orders, snapping his fingers as he walks out of the bullpen.
His previous dilemmas wither away in the face of his ever surmounting work. Mike brushes off his encounter with IT guy Ben, silently thankful that he'll never have to see the guy again.