Workworkwoke
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So now he was here. Alone. Loosely drunk on cheap scotch from the bodega down the block, slouched on his too-small couch with his laptop perched on his thighs, a pizza crust balanced precariously on an old LSAT textbook. The internet was an abyss and Mike had surrendered willingly, clicking his way from basketball highlights to a thirty-minute video essay on the evolution of Batman's voice. And then, predictably, to porn.
At first it was just the jawline that made his stomach jolt. Then the voice—rougher, higher-pitched, younger—but unmistakably his. And when the camera panned down, bare chest rising and falling with breathy gasps, lit by harsh, clinical lighting, Mike nearly dropped his laptop.
Harvey.
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Or, Mike stumbles on some old videos, then gets to know the star.Bookmarked by Workworkwoke
07 Jan 2026
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It had started with a dream. Nothing coherent, just flashes of heat and hands and the kind of pressure that made him squirm even now, fully awake and achingly aware that he was wet. Not figuratively. Actually wet.
He poked Harvey’s shoulder.
Nothing.
Mike tried again, this time with more intent, fingers jabbing just under his shoulder blade. "Harvey," he whispered.
Still nothing. Not even a grunt.
Frustration curled in his chest, followed by a wave of stubbornness. He shoved at Harvey’s back more firmly. "Harvey."
The older man groaned, but didn’t move. "What," came the growl, muffled by the pillow.
"I’m horny," Mike said bluntly.
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Or, Mike woke up horny and immediately made it Harvey's problemBookmarked by Workworkwoke
21 Dec 2025
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What do they call it? Cognitive dissonance.
That's what it felt like - avoidance wrapped in tenderness.
A game of how long can we put off the 'what are we?' before it's so disgustingly domestic that we're getting each other coffees, fixing each other's ties and talking about new year's plans?
Bookmarked by Workworkwoke
21 Dec 2025
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AITA for getting annoyed that my associate knows all my coffee orders and remembered my dry cleaning?
u/_DefinitelyNotHarveyOkay. So, this is going to sound insane, but bear with me.
I’m (40M) a senior partner at a high-profile law firm in New York. (Not saying which one. Let’s just say if you’ve ever watched a smug multi-millionaire get even richer, we were probably involved.) I’ve got an associate. Let’s call him Mike.
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Or, through a series of AITA posts, Harvey—very slowly and reluctantly—realises that he has feelings for Mike.Bookmarked by Workworkwoke
16 Dec 2025
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Harvey is leaning against the doorframe, waiting for him. He’s in a short-sleeve T-shirt, and his hair falls across his temples in the most intolerably perfect way Mike has ever seen.
“I’m not a doctor, Harvey. I’m not on call twenty-four seven,” Mike grumbles, pushing his way inside before Harvey even moves to let him in.
“You’re saying you wouldn’t come if I were dying?” Harvey asks as he closes the door behind them.
Mike drops his bag on one of the stools at the kitchen counter and throws his dripping jacket on top. “Are you dying?”or
3 times Harvey is a jerk and 1 when he makes up for it.
Bookmarked by Workworkwoke
05 Oct 2025