Kate (mskatej) wrote,

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Fic: The Trip

Title: The Trip
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harvey/Mike
Word count: 9,194
Spoilers: None
Acknowledgements: I am so grateful to my awesome cheerleader and beta extraordinaire, mockturtletale, for her encouragement, her insightful comments, and for ensuring I didn’t go overboard with the sap. <3
Summary: Mike and Harvey go to LA on business and end up drinking at a bar in the Regent Beverly Wilshire. And then chaos.

The Trip, by Kate

Harvey didn’t spare a thought for Mike while they were on the plane, and it wasn’t until they ran into each other in the LAX airport lounge after landing that Harvey remembered he’d even been on the plane at all. He had the worn out, bleary-eyed look of someone who had just spent the past eight hours trying and failing to sleep in an upright position, but the helpless smile on his face gave away just how thrilled he was to be there.

“How was first class?” Mike asked. “I bet first class was great. Do I get to ride in the car to the hotel with you, or shall I just hitch?”

Harvey grinned and continued walking towards the exit. “The caviar was adequate,” he said. “But the Cristal had the perfect amount of fizz.”

“That’s awesome. I’m so happy for you. Where’s your luggage?” Mike frowned, first at Harvey, then at the bulky, unwieldy bags he was carrying in both of his own hands.

“On its way to the hotel I imagine.”

“How did you manage that?”

“I have no idea. Donna took care of it.”

Mike looked unamused. “How nice for you.”

They located their driver by the ‘Harvey Specter’ sign he was holding above his head.

“You must be Niro,” Harvey said, offering his hand to him. “Good to meet you.” They shook hands, made some small talk, and then Niro led them to the car, but before Mike could hop in, Harvey blocked his way with a palm to the chest.

“Okay fine,” he said with a defeated sigh. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Mike shot him a dirty look and said, “Your parents didn’t show you enough love when you were a child did they, Harvey. That’s why you’re, you know—” he gestured in Harvey’s direction, “—the way you are.”

Harvey nodded. “Successful, rich and unspeakably handsome? How could you, Mom and Dad.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re the devil?” Mike called out as Harvey slid into the backseat of the car ahead of him. A few seconds later Mike opened the door on the other side and hopped in next to Harvey, shaking his head. “I’m on to you, Harvey. Somewhere, buried beneath that enormous ego is a lonely little boy who just wants his mommy to love him.”

Harvey snickered, and retrieved the buzzing phone from his pocket. “I’m here.”

“Good flight?” Donna said.

“Yup. Hey, where’s my luggage?” he said, just to annoy Mike.

“Where do you think it is?”

Mike’s unwavering glare combined with Donna’s flawless efficiency made it impossible for Harvey to keep the grin off his face. “You’re a goddess.”

“I know,” she said, and hung up.


Havey’s LA accommodation was always the penthouse suite at the Regent Beverly Wilshire. A cliché, perhaps, but it catered to his needs perfectly, and anyway, of all Richard Gere’s performances that one had always been Harvey’s personal favorite.

Mike gazed around the lobby in wide-eyed awe, his excitement so infectious Harvey couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice when he told Mike to put his tongue back in his mouth.

“Don’t even try to ruin this for me,” Mike said. “The fact that Jessica agreed to let you take me with you at all is a freaking miracle, and I intend to enjoy every second of my time here. Starting with the pool.”

“You’re not going swimming now, it’s ten o’clock. Go to bed.”

Mike looked sulky for a moment but didn’t argue, and when they parted ways in the elevator at the first floor, Harvey said, “Be in the lobby at eight sharp,” as Mike followed the bellboy carrying his bags out into the corridor.

“You don’t wanna grab some breakfast togeth--” But the elevator doors slid shut in front of Mike’s face before Harvey could decline the invitation, which was even more perfect.

Harvey loved the penthouse suite, he felt right at home in the penthouse suite: elegant, stylish, light and airy, but also warm in a way that most hotel rooms weren’t. He liked knowing that Mike was downstairs, toughing it out in one of the normal rooms for normal people, probably at that very moment debating with himself whether he should take advantage of the mini-bar (and he should, because while Harvey might give him a hard time about it, he’d of course pick up the tab). Harvey poured himself a scotch at the bar – a perfectly aged Glenfiddich, so smooth it slid down his throat like melted butter – and wandered out onto the balcony to admire the twinkling cityscape. Not as pretty as New York but all cities look good at night, and at this present moment LA was spectacular.

The night was warm and Harvey’s spirits were high. Traveling for work was normally a chore, but when Jessica had told him on Monday he needed to get his ass over to LA to close Nichols or else, and agreed that Mike should accompany him, and said he may as well take some personal time while he was there, and had waved him off with disinterest when he told her he’d be back in a week, Harvey had been so pleased he’d actually laughed out loud at the way Mike punched the air and whooped when he heard the news. They had a week here – well, five nights – Wednesday to Monday in the city of Angels, where the sun never stopped shining and the girls lived in bikinis. After he and Mike had dealt with Nichols tomorrow they were officially on holiday.

Shopping, sunbathing, sex.

Harvey wasn’t sure at this point how Mike would fit in with his plans, and he hadn’t discussed it with him, but Mike would probably make a pretty good wingman. Tomorrow night he’d take Mike out for a few drinks and see what he was made of.

He continued his tour around the suite, trying to figure out what changes had been made to the décor and art since his last stay, ending up in the bathroom, where he discovered the tub filled with scented water and bubbles. He fished his phone out of his pocket and sent Donna a text:

Remind me to give you a raise. Hx

His phone pinged a second later:

Give me a raise.


Mike was already drunk. Not messy or annoying drunk, but spirited and chattier than normal, and while Harvey had absolutely no intention of telling him so, he was being highly entertaining.

It had been a long and arduous day, but a successful one: Nichols was no cake walk but Harvey had gotten through to him in the end and Mike’s research and input had been invaluable. He deserved a few celebratory drinks; Harvey deserved a few himself, and he found he was having such a good time with Mike that he didn’t feel in any hurry to begin his hunt for a more feminine brand of company. He had plenty of time for sex – later that night, tomorrow, the next day - but hanging out with Mike was a new experience. A surprisingly fun new experience, as it turned out.

They were sat side by side on a sofa at the Blvd Lounge, dressed casual, picking at a plate of charcuterie and sipping on Dom, creating shared anecdotes about their day with Nichols and his team, although Mike did most of the talking because Harvey found bragging too uncouth. It was about eight in the evening, and the place was packed and lively, which might explain why Mike was practically shouting at him between slugs of bubbly.

“Slow down, Mike,” Harvey said, casting a disapproving eye towards Mike’s empty glass as he set it down on their table. “It’s not a race.” A waiter appeared as if from thin air and filled it to the brim with more champagne, much to Mike’s obvious delight.

“I can’t help it, it’s just so delicious.”

“It should be at seventy bucks a glass.”

“Wow, you know the price of things. I’m genuinely shocked.” He downed half his fresh glass with one enormous gulp. “Fuck me, I love champagne.”

Harvey took a more civilized sip from his own glass to show Mike how it was done, and said, “You’re a philistine.”

“And you need to loosen up. Do you even know how to have fun?”

Harvey narrowed his eyes. “I invented fun.”

“Ohhhh,” Mike clutched his stomach and doubled over with laughter. “Yeah. Right. You’re clearly like the Grande Dame of fun, Harvey; you should take a master class. You could teach people how to work out, go shopping, get hair cuts, and drink slower than my grandmother.”

“I could drink you under the table, little man. I choose not to, because I’m a grown up.”

“Did you just challenge me to a drinking competition?”


“That’s kind of exactly what I heard. And yeah, challenge accepted.”

“What, you think I’m gonna hang out here all night drinking with you?”

“Uh, yeah. You are definitely doing that.”

Harvey held his glass out as the waiter approached and thanked him after he’d topped it up. He took another sip and felt himself relax into his fate. Talking to beautiful strangers held little appeal compared with the pleasing comfort that came with being on the receiving end of Mike’s focused attention.

Mike was squinting at him thoughtfully. “Were you planning on picking up a woman tonight? Is that what you do? I’m guessing you’re pretty good at it.”

“The best.”

“Okay, whatever. We could do that later, I suppose. That could be fun.”

Mike’s insistence on shadowing Harvey no matter what the activity was highly amusing. “Who says you’re coming with me? I don’t want you cramping my style.”

“Hey, I’ve got some moves. You’re just worried the ladies will like me better.”

And so it went on.

They drank several more glasses of champagne, munched on bar food, moved on to whisky, and continued bickering for another few hours. At about ten Harvey insisted they switch to sparkling water, at least for a while, and Mike agreed with him for once, but they didn’t move, even though the bar had quieted down considerably and they were only one of a handful of tables left. Harvey had a niggling feeling they should call it a night but he just couldn’t bring himself to, and to prevent Mike from getting ideas about leaving (unlikely though that was) he ordered them some coffee.

“Make it Irish,” Mike told the waiter, and Harvey rolled his eyes but didn’t protest.

“Way to defeat the purpose of the coffee break.”

“That purpose was fulfilled by the water break, you ginormous killjoy. It’s almost as if you don’t know how a holiday works.”

“This isn’t a holiday, it’s a business trip.”

Mike threw his head back and laughed. “No, Harvey, no. Business is done and dusted. We are on holiday now, and we are – well, I am – having fun.”

An hour, two Irish coffees and a large glass of brandy later, Mike was listing Harvey’s many glaring defects in a sympathetic and concerned tone of voice. He shook his head sadly. “I know what you need, Harvey,” Mike said, his eyes full of self-satisfied pity.

“What’s that?”

Mike reached out and cupped Harvey’s face in his hands, his pout deepening. “You need more physical affection in your life.”

They were playing the game they always played; the one they’d been playing all night: Mike was doing his very best to wind Harvey up and Harvey was enjoying every second of it. His favorite people thrived on giving Harvey epic amounts of shit, and while Donna was the undisputed Queen of Derision, Mike’s gift was Harvey-specific and addictive as hell; it wasn’t that Mike didn’t tease other people, it was that he spent an inordinate amount of time trying to get under Harvey’s skin, as if it were the very reason he’d been put on the planet.

“I get plenty of physical affection,” Harvey assured him, hiding his amusement beneath an unimpressed glare. He was perfectly aware that his defensive response would only spur Mike on and he relished the prospect.

Mike responded with a grave shake of his head. “Dude. Anonymous hook-ups aren’t real physical affection. You need love, Harvey, not sex.”

“Get your hands off my face.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“God you’re annoying.”

Mike leaned in and planted a lingering kiss on Harvey’s lips.

Then he drew back with the most comically shocked and guilty look on his face Harvey had ever seen, took his hands off Harvey’s cheeks, and collapsed into a fit of hysterical laughter.

“Oh my God, Harvey,” he managed to gasp out, “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I did that.”

Harvey was trying his best not to reveal how much he’d enjoyed it by keeping his expression as neutral as possible. He needed to convey unruffled, mild amusement to Mike, nothing more, and he hoped that was the impression his smile was giving. “You’re an idiot,” he said. “Yeah, laugh it up, kid. You’re part of a very privileged group of people now, you know.”

“I bet,” Mike said, now a little calmer, sounding less sarcastic than Harvey might have expected, more appreciative. “It was an honor.”

“How can it be an honor when you didn’t give me a choice about it?” Harvey asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Good point,” Mike said, looking pensive for a second. “It was a pleasure then. How’s that?”

“Of course it was a pleasure. That goes without saying.”

“Oh you liked it did you?” Mike nodded at him, looking unsurprised. “Makes sense. I’ve been told I’m an excellent kisser.”

They were the only people left in the bar other than the staff, none of whom were currently visible from their location. Harvey wasn’t used to feeling close to another person, not like this, not in a way that felt both intimate and exciting at the same time. “The pleasure was all yours,” he said.

Mike sighed. “Okay, fine, you got me. Kissing you was the highlight of my day.”

Harvey smiled.

“And now I’m thinking of kissing you again, just to, you know, confirm it.”

“Surely the memory of it is burned into that freak brain of yours. You can relive it any time you want.”

“It’s not the same.”


“I might remember the kiss perfectly, but reliving it in my head can’t possibly be as good as actually doing it again.”


“So you agree then?”

“That the memory of kissing me isn’t as fabulous as the reality of kissing me? I do.”

“Right, good. I’ll kiss you again, then.”

Warning bells were sounding a cacophony in Harvey’s head. Things were getting out of hand and even though he was drunker than he’d been in as long as he could remember, he knew there were two things he had to do, two very important things: get away from Mike as soon as humanly possible, which in its turn would help with the second imperative: to not, under any circumstances, succumb to temptation.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Harvey said. It was the last thing he wanted to do; his body didn’t want him to budge an inch. If his body were in charge he’d stay exactly where he was, he’d let Mike kiss him again, and then he’d no doubt drag Mike back to the penthouse and screw him through the floor. But Harvey had always been an expert at controlling his baser urges, and so he stood up.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“I’m going to bed. It’s late.” He walked around the table and began to leave, but Mike had leapt up and was following him at a quicker pace, overtaking him until he was in front of Harvey, facing him and walking backwards.

“Harvey, don’t be like that. We’re having fun, aren’t we?”

Harvey stopped walking, every muscle in his body tense. “This is starting to feel dangerous.”

“No, no,” Mike said, breezy and unconcerned, moving in closer to block Harvey’s exit route. “It’s just you and me, having a good time. How can that be dangerous? Please stay. You can’t leave me down here.” The ‘like this’ went unsaid, but Harvey understood the subtext.

He put his hand on Mike’s arm. “I’m going to my room. I suggest you do the same.” He tried to push Mike aside but Mike held his ground.

“Go to your room? Okay.”


“Come on, Harvey, stop being so serious. I’m just kidding around.”

“No you’re not.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not kidding around. You’re hitting on me.”

Mike looked affronted for a brief second, but didn’t deny it. “I’m—”

“So I’m gonna go before I do something I regret.”

Mike reeled back slightly, his mouth falling open and his eyes searching Harvey’s face for clues. “Like what?”

“You know what,” Harvey said, this time pushing harder until Mike stumbled out of his way, but before he could take a step, Mike was back in front of him, right up in his space, face only inches from Harvey and a belligerent flare in his eyes. He drifted forward, and Harvey could have given in to temptation then, but he didn’t, he pulled away from Mike’s advancing lips and suppressed a smile at the annoyed sound Mike made.

“Why not?” Mike said, moving in again for a kiss, which – again – Harvey dodged.

Harvey did, however, reach around him and lay his hand on the small of Mike’s back, the sweet swim of alcohol in his system heightening his need for physical contact and blunting his ability to control himself.

“This is not going to happen,” he murmured, pressing his fingers into Mike’s flesh through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “Go to bed.”

But Mike didn’t listen to him, instead inching closer until their bodies were nearly touching, tilting his head and breathing hot and damp against Harvey’s throat. The rising temperature of Mike body brought out the scent of his cologne (Acqua di Gio if Harvey wasn’t mistaken) and the skin on his face glowed under the low lighting. Harvey wanted to kiss him, right then and there, but he settled for letting his hand slide lower until the heel of his palm lay pressed into Mike’s lower back, his fingertips dug into the top of Mike’s buttocks.

He was breaking all the rules, and he knew he couldn’t take it any further than this, but Mike was willing and pushy and Harvey didn’t have it in him to leave him there with nothing. So he slid his hand down even further and cupped Mike’s ass, and when that made Mike groan and press wet lips and tongue to Harvey’s throat, Harvey’s cock went from half-hard to fully erect in an instant.

A little more groping of that absurdly tempting ass was all he needed, just a little more, and then he’d get the fuck out of there and go to his room and jerk off like he should have done an hour ago. But the more he stroked and squeezed Mike’s ass, the more Mike moaned against his neck, and then, when Harvey pressed his fingers as hard as he could through denim into the cleft between Mike’s buttocks, Mike closed the tiny gap between them, hands gripping Harvey’s shoulders, and pressed his erection into Harvey’s hip.

“Okay,” Harvey said, extracting himself from Mike’s clutches. “I really am going now.” He started walking away.

“Oh come on,” Mike said. “Even you can’t be that much of a jerk. You obviously want this as much as I do. What’s the problem?”

Harvey stopped walking and looked back at Mike over his shoulder. “Should I make you a list?” Then he left the bar and headed through the hotel foyer toward the elevators, somewhat surprised that Mike didn’t follow him. He made it up to his room without Mike catching up to him, but then Harvey would only have had to reject him again, and as fun as that would have been, he had to respect Mike’s unwillingness to be on the receiving end of it.

Once inside the suite he went straight into the bathroom, grabbed the edge of the counter with both hands and stared at himself in the mirror. He was flushed and his pupils were fully dilated; his hair had lost some of its slick and a strand had come loose. He looked good. This was what he’d looked like to Mike just now, and Mike had liked it. Harvey unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock and began to stroke himself. Filthy images swirled around his brain as he pumped his fist: Mike bent over the sink with his legs spread—

The doorbell rang.

“Christ,” he said, halting his hand and squeezing himself. With great difficulty he tugged his zipper up, and by the time he got to the door he still hadn’t quite managed to eliminate the shudder from his breath.

He opened the door a fraction and eyed an agitated-looking Mike. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?”

“No,” Harvey said. “Go away.”

“Why? Let me in,” Mike said, pushing at the door and barging inside before Harvey could protest again. He wandered through the foyer and past the reception area, looking around and shaking his head. “Of course you have the penthouse suite while I’m stuck in a shoe box on the first floor.”

“Did you want something?” Harvey asked, staring at Mike’s ass as he followed him toward the balcony door, keeping a distance of several paces between them.

Instead of opening it and stepping outside, Mike turned around and leaned against the glass, the forward thrust of his hips drawing Harvey’s gaze down.

Mike had undone the top button of his jeans and his fly was halfway undone, and yet no underwear was visible; his t-shirt had ridden up a touch, revealing a tantalizing patch of skin covered in a light spattering of curly hair. The outline of his hard cock was visible through his jeans and he just stood there, confident and unashamed, head tilted and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “I wanted to show you something,” he said.

“Yes, I can see that,” Harvey replied, trying and failing to keep his eyes on Mike’s face.

Mike shook his head. “Not that.” He nodded his head at Harvey. “Come here.”

Harvey licked his lips but didn’t budge. “You’re ordering me around now?”

“Just, stop being annoying and come over here. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Within Harvey’s booze-soaked consciousness, propriety and self-control were at war with curiosity and lust, and they were losing. He walked towards Mike and stood in front of him, close enough that he could touch him if he chose to, but he kept his arms by his sides and his poker face in place.

“Give me your hand,” Mike said.


Mike threw his head back in exasperation, and then looked back at Harvey with an impatient sigh. “Jesus, Harvey, would you just trust me?”

Harvey mulled it over for a second before offering his hand to Mike, who grasped it in his own and tugged it forward, his other hand busy unzipping his fly the rest of the way.

“Mike, what are you--”

“Trust me,” Mike said, drawing Harvey’s hand around, behind him, and flattening it against his lower back. He covered Harvey’s hand with his own and gave Harvey a reassuring smile. And then he slid both of their hands southward, and when Mike let go Harvey felt utterly helpless to resist, and he continued sliding without assistance.

“Oh Jesus,” Harvey whispered. “What have you done?”

No underwear, then... slick.

Slick, slippery, wet.

“That’s why it took me so long to get here.” Mike said, his breath coming in fast and shallow.

Harvey couldn’t control his hand, sliding it down between Mike’s thoroughly lubricated ass crack. “Oh my God.” He let his fingers linger in the slippery heat, until he couldn’t take it any more and then with a breathless oh fuck he slid an easy finger into Mike’s stretched out hole, pushing it right inside to the second knuckle. Mike’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open on a gasp, and then he pushed his jeans down over his ass and turned around, bracing himself against the door with his hands and pushing his ass backwards to give Harvey better access.

Never in his life had Harvey been so desperate to be inside someone. Scrabbling at his fly, he shoved his pants down and grabbed hold of his cock.

“Spread your legs,” he said to Mike, who obeyed him without hesitation.

Harvey looked down at himself, at his swollen dick, hard as it had ever been, and he shuffled in closer, lined himself up. “You want this,” he said, sucking in a breath through his teeth. “You got ready for me.” And he pushed his cock, slow and sure, into Mike’s tight, slick asshole. It went in without any trouble because Mike had done such a good job preparing himself, he must have used his fingers, fucked himself with slippery fingers just to get ready for Harvey’s cock, two or three fingers, and Harvey pictured it as he filled Mike to the brim, pulling out, pushing in, thrusting in and out, in and out— oh Jesus.

The sounds Mike made each time Harvey rammed inside only encouraged Harvey to do it harder and faster: groans full of pleasure and, God, gratitude, breathless yeahs and ohs, Harvey’s name choked out as if it emerged from somewhere deep inside him, misting up the glass in front of them with his hot, sweet breath. Harvey tipped his head back and shut his eyes and reveled in the sensations, whispering up at the ceiling, oh yeah oh fuck yeah over and over again, Mike’s hips in his tight clutches, Harvey’s orgasm imminent.

Harvey felt a shift in Mike’s posture and opened his eyes to discover Mike had removed one of his palms from the door and was furiously jerking off. Harvey wrapped an arm around his torso and pressed his mouth to Mike’s ear. “You gonna come for me?”

Mike gasped. “Oh God oh fuck--” And he came, shooting straight ahead of him onto the glass, splashing thick and white and sliding south. The sight of it sent Harvey over the edge with a loud groan, and he pushed his cock into Mike one last time and held himself inside as he came with such intensity he nearly blacked out, maybe did black out for a second.

Harvey slumped against Mike, panting into his neck, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. When he pulled his cock out of Mike they both sucked in a breath, and then Mike let out a soft, sleepy moan, and Harvey gritted his teeth at the way his cock felt in his hand: bare, and slick.


He took a step back and pulled up his pants, tucked himself away and zipped his fly. Mike turned around leaned back against the door, apparently unconcerned about the mess he’d made all over it, and he had a grin on his face as he pulled up his jeans. Christ, the seat of them would be soaked within a minute.

Harvey turned and walked away from him, heading for the living room and feeling increasingly nauseous. “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Mike said, following him.

“What’s wrong?!” Harvey said, spinning around to face him. “I don’t do that, okay. I don’t have unprotected sex. Ever.”

Mike sighed and looked irritated. “Neither do I, Harvey, so it’s fine. I’m clean, definitely, and I’m sure you are too.” He was. “It’s not like I can get pregnant.”

“That’s not the point.” Harvey shook his head. “Look, I should never have done that, okay. I’m your boss. It’s unforgivable.” He squeezed his temples between his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck. Mike, I’m sorry, but you really need to go.”

“Harvey, don’t be stupid. It was totally my fault and you know it. I came here uninvited, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Harvey stared at him. “It was not ‘your fault’. I’m a grown goddamn man and I take responsibility for my own actions. I could have stopped you at any point. I should have—fuck, I should never have even been drinking with you.”

“You have got to be kidding me. Now I’m getting mad.”

“Mike,” he said, sighing. “I don’t want to upset you, I’m just—” Harvey had never had so much difficulty forming a sentence before. “Please just go back to your room. I need to think. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

The hurt and outrage blazing in Mike’s eyes made Harvey feel like the biggest scumbag on the face of the planet, but he didn’t back down, he couldn’t. He said nothing else, and stayed absolutely still as Mike stormed out of the penthouse. His parting words:

“Screw you, Harvey.”


Drunk, exhausted and furious with himself, Harvey had a long, hot shower and drank two bottles of water before retiring to bed, where he promptly passed out.


He woke up aroused, his hand already wrapped around his cock. He stroked himself, head thumping, and tried to recall what he’d been dreaming about, but it was gone. The more worked up he got the less he felt; he came within a few minutes, no fantasy, only sensation.

He ordered breakfast.

He necked some strong painkillers with roughly a gallon of water, and forced himself to eat some scrambled eggs despite feeling too queasy for food.

He kept his mind occupied by switching between the newspaper and CNN on TV. But at 9am, when he finally allowed himself to check his phone, he felt a rush of anxious disappointment when he saw no message from Mike.

It took him until eleven o’clock to muster the stomach to actually call him, with the intention of inviting him out for lunch. Having a conversation about the situation was the last thing he wanted to do but it was a necessity and he’d let the kid stew for long enough as it was.

No fucking answer. It rang out. Mike was blanking him. Harvey felt sick.

He texted: Call me.

And then he waited for twenty minutes for a phone call that didn’t come. He called Mike again and felt exceedingly irritated when, again, he got no answer.

Following a hunch, Harvey left his suite and headed down to the pool, and sure enough Mike was there, sunbathing on a lounger, wearing nothing but long shorts, dark glasses and a scowl. His chest was already looking a little pink and Harvey wondered how long he’d been out there, or if he’d even bothered putting on any sunscreen. He stood at the edge of the pool, several yards away from Mike, watching and waiting for Mike to become aware of his presence. When Mike looked over at him a moment later, Harvey lifted his chin a fraction and otherwise didn’t move a muscle. Clearly still fuming, Mike stood up and walked towards him, pushing his shades up on top of his head.

“Not taking my calls?”

“Didn’t want to talk to you.”

Harvey nodded. “Fair enough. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great,” Mike said, with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I just love the way you’re treating me.” Instead of stopping, he walked straight past Harvey towards the stairs that lead back to the hotel. Harvey followed him.

“Mike, I’m sorry.”

Mike stopped walking and turned to face him. “You’re sorry.” He moved into Harvey’s space, eyes narrowed. “Which bit are you sorry about?”

Harvey’s mouth was dry and he swallowed hard but didn’t answer.

Mike leaned in and murmured into Harvey’s ear. “Are you sorry you put your dick in me?” Christ. “Are you sorry you didn’t wear a condom?” Mike’s voice was like a soft caress. “Are you sorry you enjoyed it?” Harvey clenched his jaw. “Or are you sorry you threw me out straight after like a cheap whore?” Pause. “Which I suppose is fitting given the location.”

“Hey,” Harvey said, smiling slightly. “She was not cheap.”

Mike’s short burst of laughter was genuine and it filled Harvey with relief. “You’re an asshole.”

“That I’ll agree with,” Harvey said. “Will you have lunch with me?”

Mike’s disgusted scoff was not the response Harvey had been hoping for. “What the hell is wrong with you? No I won’t have lunch with you. We’re not cool, Harvey.”

“Jesus, are you always this sensitive after a one night stand?” Harvey said, and instantly regretted it. Mike reeled back, eyes full of shock and hurt; he looked as if Harvey had just punched him in the gut. “Mike, I didn’t mean that. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Mike’s head shook quickly from side to side. “I’m tired of your apologies,” he said. “You should try not being a total dick for once in your life and then you wouldn’t need to keep saying sorry to me.”

This time Harvey let Mike walk away from him.


He’d try again later, after Mike had cooled off, and Harvey had figured out how he was going to handle the situation. The utterly fucked up situation that he was entirely responsible for. He couldn’t believe he’d done what he’d done, and he couldn’t blame Mike for feeling betrayed, hurt and angry; he needed to fix it, he needed to come up with a way to get Mike to trust him again.

Niro drove him to Rodeo Drive but he didn’t have the heart for shopping so he got a manicure and a full body massage instead. He forgot to eat lunch, and didn’t even notice how starving he was until around five o’clock, so he stopped by Capriotti’s for the best roast beef sub he’d ever had in his life. After that he wandered over to Nic’s for a martini, because God knows he needed some Dutch courage before he faced Mike again.

What if Mike never forgave him?

His spirits were lifted considerably in the bar by an utterly gorgeous bartender called Patti, who flirted so shamelessly with him he seriously considered asking her if there was anywhere private they could go. He didn’t though, and at seven o’clock when he stood up with the intention of leaving, she leaned over the bar and beckoned him closer.

“I finish in an hour. Stick around,” she said.

“I’d love to but I can’t,” he said. “My girlfriend’s waiting for me at my hotel.” Was Mike his girlfriend in this scenario?

Patti looked both disappointed and surprised; this was not a woman used to being turned down. “Ugh, I can’t believe you have a girlfriend,” she said. “I officially hate her.”

Harvey grinned. “You’re sweet.”

“If you change your mind just call the bar, they’ll get me the message,” she said, with such sincerity that Harvey left feeling a million times better about his shitty day. Now he was in the right state of mind to deal with Mike.

Of course, Mike still wasn’t taking his calls, but Harvey had a feeling he wouldn’t be too hard to locate. The fact that he’d gone to the pool this morning, instead of to a place where Harvey wouldn’t be able to find him (i.e. anywhere in LA outside the hotel), suggested that Mike didn’t truly want to avoid him.

Sure enough, Harvey found Mike in the sidebar, sitting at the bar and facing the door. He was talking animatedly to a dark haired woman, leaning in close to her, and by the way her shoulders were shaking it appeared she found whatever he was saying hilarious. The spike of jealousy Harvey felt propelled him forward; he walked straight up to Mike and put a hand on his shoulder. “I need to talk to you.”

Mike shrugged Harvey’s hand off him. “I’m busy.”

Harvey didn’t flinch, he just gave Mike the look he gave people when he had no intention of taking no for an answer. “Now,” he said in a tone he knew Mike wouldn’t argue with.

Mike did flinch, and, unable to maintain eye contact with Harvey, he hopped off his stool and gave the woman an apologetic smile. “Sorry Liv, I’ve gotta do this. I’ll be right back.”

“No he won’t,” Harvey told her, ignoring Mike’s furious glare and throwing a few twenties on the bar to cover their drinks. Mike stormed off and didn’t stop marching until they’d reached the elevators, where he spun around, his eyes blazing.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Mike,” Harvey said. “Calm down.”

“I don’t wanna hear any more of your goddamn apologies, Harvey.”

“I know. That’s not what this is.”

Jaw clenched, hands on hips, Mike looked like he was about three seconds away from punching Harvey in the face. “What then? What else could you possibly have to say to me?”

Harvey took a deep breath. It wasn’t the ideal location for this conversation but there was no one else around at that present moment and better here than in a crowded bar or in Harvey’s suite. “I need you to get over this,” he said, and when Mike’s eyes widened in outrage, he put his hand up. “Hear me out.” Mike folded his arms across his chest and waited. “I know you’re gonna need some time, and I respect that, but it’s important to me that we get through this with our working relationship intact. Because we make a good team.” Mike’s expression remained hostile. “I’m your boss, Mike. Obviously I find you attractive, but there are lines I can’t cross.”

“You already crossed them.”

“Yes, I did. And it won’t happen again, I promise.”

There was an endless pause, and the way Mike was staring at Harvey made him feel like he hadn't done enough, hadn't said the right thing. But then Mike lunged forward and kissed Harvey squarely on the mouth, gripping Harvey’s shoulders in his hands and pushing Harvey’s mouth open with his tongue, all before Harvey even knew what was happening. Harvey didn’t resist, he just wrapped his arms around Mike’s waist and kissed back.

When they parted to breathe, Harvey rested his forehead against Mike’s and, panting, said, “Did you not listen to a word I just said?”

Instead of answering, Mike kissed him again, and they continued making out in the corridor until one of the elevators pinged, and as the doors opened, Harvey and Mike took a step away from each other, maintaining eye contact as a couple of people exited the elevator. When they were out of sight, Harvey grabbed a handful of Mike’s t-shirt and tugged him forward, kissing him again for a few seconds, before murmuring against Mike’s mouth, “We should probably finish this conversation somewhere a little less public.”

“Definitely.” Kiss. “My room or yours?” Mike reached over and pressed the button for the elevator.

“Mine.” Harvey stepped back and rubbed a hand over his face. “But we’re just going to talk.”

They didn’t say another word to each other on the way upstairs – although they did both make idle conversation with Ronny, the elevator attendant – and once they were safely inside the penthouse and the door was shut behind them, instead of talking they walked into each other’s arms and started kissing again. They were stood up in the middle of the living room in a tight embrace, making out like teenagers, and every time they stopped to breathe, and Harvey thought he should probably put an end to the whole thing, one of them would lean in and they’d start kissing all over again.

Eventually, Harvey said, “Okay, Okay. This was not meant to happen.”

Mike smiled and kissed him. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?” Kiss.

Mike kissed his way up Harvey’s cheek and talked softly in his ear. “When we go back to New York, everything goes back to the way it was before. You’re my boss, I’m your associate, nothing more. And I’ll be okay with it, because we agreed on it together.” The flick of Mike’s tongue over Harvey’s ear made him shudder and pull Mike closer to him. “But for the next few days… we do what we want.”

Harvey sucked on Mike’s neck. “What happens in LA stays in LA?”


He dragged his tongue up Mike’s throat and across his jaw, licked his chin, kissed him on the mouth again, and then drew his head back to look carefully into his eyes. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Mike said, nodding and gazing at Harvey’s mouth. “Can we go to bed now?”

Harvey knew it was a mistake, and that he was setting them both up for a fall, but he was desperate to take Mike’s clothes off, so he nodded, kissed him and said, “Let’s go.”


The decision had been made - he had Mike to do what he wanted with for the next three nights - and so as far as Harvey was concerned there was no longer any point over-thinking things. New York was an age away. They’d fall off that bridge when they came to it.

He made Mike stand next to the bed and keep his hands to himself while Harvey undressed him. With each article of clothing removed, more bare skin was revealed and available to Harvey’s hands and mouth. He slid his palms all over Mike’s body, pressing wet kisses to every erogenous zone, feeling and listening to Mike’s reactions and learning where he was most sensitive: his earlobes, the nape of his neck, his abdomen just above his pelvis, the back of his knees. Eventually he had Mike completely naked, his cock in Harvey’s mouth and his hands in Harvey’s hair, babbling incoherently above him, Oh God oh God oh fuck oh God you’re so good oh God yes Harvey oh your mouth oh my God...

After Mike had come Harvey took his own clothes off, climbed into bed and pulled him into his arms. They did nothing but kiss, and occasionally talk, for the next hour.

“I hated today,” Mike whispered against Harvey’s mouth.

“Me too.”

“I was so pissed at you.”

“I know.”

“I’m not pissed at you anymore.”


Harvey didn’t have any lube with him, nor - much to Harvey’s chagrin - did the Regent Beverly Wilshire stock the penthouse suite with lube, so he couldn’t fuck Mike again; but - much to Harvey’s delight - Mike was a talented cocksucker, and after a twenty minute session of Mike’s tongue, lips and hands expertly working his cock, he came in Mike’s mouth.

Harvey fell asleep.

He woke up to Mike’s slick hand stroking his cock, Mike whispering in Harvey’s ear: “Wake up wake up wake up.”

“Hey,” Harvey murmured.

“I went down to my room while you were asleep and got the lube. Will you fuck me?”

“Yes,” Harvey said, waking up fully and pushing Mike onto his back. “Did you get yourself ready for me again?”

“No, I thought you might like to do the honors this time.”

Harvey smiled and grabbed the tube out of Mike’s hand. “You thought right.”

Mike hooked his arms under his knees and held himself in position while Harvey fingered him.

Harvey fucked him for about an hour. They took several rest breaks and tried multiple positions, with Harvey’s personal favorite being the last they tried, although that may possibly have had as much to do with physical exhaustion as the view: on his back with Mike sitting on top of him, facing him, riding him, occasionally leaning down to lick at his mouth. He came inside Mike with a strangled groan and then afterwards he sat up, maneuvered Mike onto his stomach, pulled his ass cheeks apart and watched semen seeping out of his flushed, ravaged hole.

They didn’t leave the suite on Saturday. All they did was fuck and eat and sleep, fuck and eat and sleep.

They braved the outside world on Sunday, taking that last opportunity to act like they were a happy couple without a care in the world. If it weren’t soon to be over would Harvey have thrown himself into it with such abandon? Probably not, but he perhaps did need to re-evaluate some of his firmly held opinions on the reality of romantic relationships. Because wandering down Rodeo Drive with his arm slung around Mike’s shoulders; kissing him out in public just for the hell of it; buying him a new tie (skinny, sky blue and exorbitantly expensive); feeding him food from his own plate… Bickering with each other almost constantly (because some things never change); having a ridiculous conversation about the hazards of swallowing fire with a clearly-off-his-face-on-acid street performer and laughing hysterically about it later; spending their last night together making love...

Life had certainly been worse.


Their mood was subdued on the Monday morning and they didn’t speak at all on the way to the airport, but they held hands for the entire journey. Harvey paid for Mike to be upgraded to first class with a seat next to his.

The flight was strange. Having Mike by his side for eight hours – watching movies together (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and Dirty Harry because they decided it would be safer to stick to films they’d both already seen and loved), and at one point, Mike climbed into Harvey’s spacious seat next to him, curling himself around Harvey’s body and falling asleep – was small comfort, given what awaited them at the end of their journey. He didn’t even try to sleep himself, despite the fact that they hadn’t slept a wink the night before; this was the last of it, this was the end. This plane journey was all he had left with Mike and he didn’t want to miss a second of it. Try as he might though, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that threatened to overwhelm him. The closer the plane got to New York, the tenser Harvey felt, and the more miserable Mike looked.

Ray picked them up at JFK and when they reached Mike’s place Harvey got out of the car to say goodbye.

They stood in front of each other without speaking for a long time, gazing at each other unhappily.

“I suppose I can’t kiss you goodbye.” Mike said eventually.

Harvey gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, and he knew the regret he was feeling was obvious because Mike broke eye contact with a blink and a twitch, and then he said, “Of course not. Okay. See you later.”


“Don’t, Harvey. I’ll be okay.” But he wasn’t looking at Harvey anymore. He picked up his bags and walked inside without another glance back.


They slipped back into the old routine at work surprisingly easily, and in fact the first week went so well Harvey thought maybe the two of them really could go back to being just colleagues after all, and that there would be no major fallout from their affair. He got to see Mike every day, and while the urge to touch him (kiss him, drag him into a bathroom stall and fuck the shit of him) was always there, Harvey knew it was only a matter of time before those feelings went away.

And the way Mike’s eyes lit up when he saw him each day—that was enough. It was enough.

He ran into Mike in the men’s room on Thursday afternoon and they temporarily slipped back into holiday mode, after he mentioned that when Louis had started talking in the meeting about the glorious couple he’d seen swing dancing on the street on his way home from work the night before, Harvey had been reminded of their fire breathing friend in LA, who had tried to teach Mike and Harvey to do the Hustle.

Mike laughed, and said, “At least I gave it a shot!” He tilted his head and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “It kinda sucks being back, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Harvey agreed. They smiled at each other, Mike’s gaze drifted towards Harvey’s mouth, and Harvey licked his lips. “I should go,” he said, and Mike grinned at him and nodded.

On Friday Mike walked into Harvey’s office at six o’clock.

“What are you up to this weekend?” he asked, and Harvey straight away clocked the seductive tilt of his smile and the hope implicit in his casually delivered words.

It took every ounce of willpower Harvey had at his disposal not to ask Mike to accompany him back to his condo immediately. “I have work to catch up on,” he said.

“Anything I can help with?”

Harvey shook his head instead of answering because he didn’t trust himself to speak.

That was the moment he saw the spark go out of Mike’s eyes. His shoulders slumped, his smile faded. He left.

After that things at work got much, much worse. Mike didn’t even attempt to flirt with Harvey again, nor did his eyes light up at seeing him any more. He became steadily more withdrawn. In meetings he put on a show of being okay, and he worked harder than ever, but he wasn’t the same person, he wasn’t the Mike Harvey knew and cared about.

Seeing Mike like that was playing havoc with Harvey’s conscience. That Mike had fallen for him not only made Harvey feel guilty, it scared the shit out of him. The last time Harvey had allowed himself to get so close to someone was fifteen years ago and Harvey had been the one to get hurt then; it was the worst experience of his life to date. He couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for Mike feeling that way. Mike had done nothing wrong, it wasn’t fair, he didn’t deserve to be hurt like that; Harvey was supposed to protect him, not damage him.

And God… Harvey missed him. Week days weren’t so bad because even a dejected, miserable Mike was better than no Mike at all, and it seemed Harvey spent every weekend these days doing things just to take his mind off Mike, like going on long, painful runs, or, more often, drinking himself into a stupor.

Six weeks after their LA trip, he and Mike had a huge fight at work. It wasn’t about anything that mattered, it was a work thing, a Louis thing, an irrelevant, absurd, meaningless thing, that ended with Mike sweeping a large stack of briefs off Harvey’s coffee table and shouting in Harvey’s face, something about fuck you, you fucking asshole, I’m fucking sick of your fucking bullshit, go fuck yourself, and storming out of Harvey’s office.

Donna appeared moments later and just stood in front of Harvey until he looked up at her, into concerned, thoughtful eyes. He huffed out a humorless laugh and waited for her assessment of the situation, something he suspected he’d needed to hear weeks ago.

“I don’t know what happened in LA,” she said. “I mean I’ve got a theory, of course I do, but that’s neither here nor there. I’ve never seen you like this before, Harvey. And God, the kid is killing me with that goddamn rain cloud he’s got hanging permanently over his head these days. I don’t give advice, especially not to you, but I’m gonna make an exception just this once, because you clearly need someone to kick your ass and I’m pretty sure it can’t be Jessica in this particular instance. So here’s my advice: go find him and make it all better.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Love always is.”

“It’s not—” but he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Go find him, Harvey. You owe it to yourself.”

Harvey bowed his head and rubbed his eyes. Then he nodded in defeat, stood up and went on the hunt for Mike.

He wasn’t in the bullpen, nor was he with Rachel, nor was he in the bathroom or the kitchen, or any of the usual places Harvey might have found him in the past. His phone went straight to voicemail, and none of the other associates had a clue where he was. Harvey even asked Louis if he’d seen Mike, and Louis just looked at Harvey like he was insane and told him that he should probably get Mike fitted with a tracking device so Harvey never need risk losing him again.

“Shut up, Louis,” Harvey snapped, although he had to give the guy credit for a superb idea.

After an hour of fruitless searching Harvey discovered Mike in a deserted storeroom, sitting on a stool, his back to the door, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Harvey walked up to him and stood facing his side, not touching but close enough so that Mike would feel his body heat, close enough to offer comfort. It took a while before Mike looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and mouth turned down at the corners. Harvey lifted Mike’s chin with his index finger, and it was the first time he’d touched him since they’d gotten back to New York, the first physical contact in six weeks. He gazed into Mike’s eyes, trying to impart to him all the regret and worry and longing he felt, and Mike stood up straight away and launched himself into Harvey’s arms.

Harvey pulled Mike against him and held him close. They clung to each other for a long time before Mike spoke against Harvey’s throat. “I can’t do this.”

Harvey tightened their embrace. “I know.”

“Take me home.”


They went upstairs together and Harvey even accompanied Mike to his desk to grab his things, for the sole reason that he didn’t want to let Mike out of his sight again – ever, really, but certainly not tonight.

They caught a cab back to Harvey’s condo and had shed most of their clothes by the time his private elevator reached his floor.

The sex was aggressive at first, with Harvey fucking Mike so hard he had to apologize afterwards for hurting him, although Mike assured him that it hadn’t hurt at all, that it had been perfect, which may or may not have been true, it didn’t matter; the only thing that mattered was that they were together. They continued having sex for hours, but it was far more tender after that: kissing passionately, breaking apart to breathe, to whisper things to each other, things Harvey swore he would never say but now that Mike was with him he couldn’t stop the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“I missed you, God I missed you.”

“You too. Not being with you is the worst. What are we gonna do?”

“I’ll talk to Jessica.”

“Will she understand?”

“Not at first, but I’ll talk her round. I’m good at that.”

They grinned at each other.

“Should we get some sleep before work tomorrow?” Mike said. “Or should we just stay up all night and make out?”

Harvey kissed him, slow and deep and wet. “We can sleep when we’re dead.”

Tags: fic, fic: suits
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