Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mike is in trouble. He doesn't consider himself easily fazed - in fact, he knows that he isn't. Would be tough luck with the way his life has turned out so far. Leaving aside the loss of his parents, getting kicked out of college, and the entire drug dealing affair with Trevor, he is  the man who got hired after revealing a suitcase full of pot to a guy he didn't know he'd be interviewed by for a job he hadn't studied for.

So, no, Mike isn't easily fazed at any rate. He works as a lawyer in one of New York's best law firms with the city's best closer as his mentor and... maybe-not-quite-but-kind-of friend. Or something. So far he has managed to ditch any difficulties, coming out on top of every obstacle concerning his missing degree and the generally tumultuous life at Pearson Hardman. He has not just survived Harvey Specter's demanding mentoring, he has thrived under it. Even more of an achievement, as some would certainly say, he has managed to build a relationship with the man that is unlike any other he has. Even Mike himself can't define it, and he is half of the parties involved.

There is of course the level of boss and employee, of mentor and student. Then there's the one he is a little unsure of, doesn't quite know what to call. Mike certainly considers Harvey a friend, a good one at that. One of the best and most important he has, in fact. He's just not sure whether Harvey sees him the same way. Not that it really matters, but he does wonder.

And then there is the level that Mike doesn't even want to think about, let alone name. The one that is completely inappropriate yet just can't be helped, no matter how hard he tries (and tried he has, because having these kind of thoughts about your boss is just not very good at all).

It's not that Mike can't admit to himself that he is attracted to Harvey. He is an attractive man, anyone can see that. He might be ten years older than Mike, but those years only add to his appeal as far as he's concerned. The muscular build of his body, highlighted by a bespoke suit every day without fail, is alluring on the best days and downright distracting on the worst. His face is unique and torturously attractive enough for Mike to have a love-hate-relationship with it, with its singularly shaped lips that he would just love to taste some days and those eyes, those damn expressive deep eyes that can devastate or build him up with a single look, and it's really not fair for someone to have that much power over him, but it's not like he knows what to do about it.

Alright. Fine. Mike isn't going to lie to himself; he is a realist, and he is attracted to his boss. But that's all there is to it. Or rather, all there was to it. It was an innocent enough crush. Nothing that was keeping him awake at night, rather lingering at the back of his mind, always, a constant presence he was well aware of but could just as well work around, thank you very much. Despite his lack of an actual degree, Mike is a professional. He had it all under control.

And then. Then Harvey Specter went and smiled. Not his usual smile, the one he displays for clients and colleagues. Not the flirty one he sometimes gives Donna or some particularly interesting clients – men and women alike, Mike can't help but notice (not that he pays attention to that). Not the sarcastic curl of his lips when he tells Louis off, or chastises Mike for his mistakes.

No, it was a genuine smile, real and honest, lighting up his entire face as an almost childlike joy took over his features, crinkling the lines around his eyes, splitting his lips widely, making him look ten years younger in an instant. It was a smile Mike had never seen before, and it caught him so off guard that his lungs momentarily forgot how to draw breath. Harvey, unaware of the life-threatening effect he was having on his associate, had continued to look like he didn't have a single care in the world. Look at Mike of all people.

Harvey Specter is going to be the death of him, Mike is quite certain of that. Without even putting any effort into it. He just does that.

Usually it's not that bad. Mike has survived every look and every glimpse of his body he shouldn't have gotten, every other smile and wink and flirtatious expression, always directed at other people after all. But then Harvey smiled at him, and Mike's entire world seemed to freeze for one moment as he looked into those hazel eyes that stared right back, not sharp and cutting or calculating as usual, but open and amused and so alluring that Mike thought he might drown in them, would have done so if it came to it, no question. Harvey asked, Mike delivered. That was how it went. But now Harvey wasn't asking anything. There was a moment, and it was just them and that beautiful smile and their lingering gazes, and that was when Mike knew that he was in trouble.

He was aware that he'd been staring, that his face probably betrayed his every emotion, that his troubled breathing might not go unnoticed, but he didn't care. He just looked, wanting to absorb this moment, the image of Harvey's face displaying that beautiful, heart-stopping smile, with every fiber of his being.

And Harvey hadn't looked away either.

Mike groans and buries his face in his hands. The smile happened yesterday, nearly twenty-four hours ago, and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it, the image appearing in front of him unbiddenly every time he closes his eyes. He is in so much trouble.

It's not like he can just take some time off from Harvey to clear his head and return his focus to work. Harvey is the work. And as an associate for Pearson Hardman, Mike is lucky if he has a sixty hour week anyway. Getting away is impossible, and if he is honest then he doesn't really want to anyway. Because he loves his job, and he loves Harvey – in whatever way – and he loves that smile, so much so that it's now permanently etched into his perfect memory.

He has no idea what he is going to do.

He has barely seen Harvey today, and he doesn't know if that is better or worse. On one hand, he doesn't have to face him just yet and pretend that everything is as usual before he manages to regain his composure. On the other, his brain seems all the more adamant to remind him of the image he was blessed with yesterday.

It just won't leave him alone. Mike knows, he knows with absolute certainty that this is not something that is just going to go away. So he decides, and he really doesn't know if this is one of his better or worse ideas, that he is going to see Harvey smile at him like that again, and if it's the last thing he does.

Though it might take a while. When Mike goes to see Harvey about a file he isn't smiling at all, on the contrary. His forehead is creased with deep lines, a tight frown having taken hold of him so thoroughly it is hard to imagine that this is the same face that lit up Mike's entire world just yesterday.

The trouble is that Mike still wants to touch it. Still thinks it's beautiful, and striking, and worthy of being saved to his memory in perfect detail. He still wants to run his thumbs over his cheeks and smooth the deep lines with his fingers until they disappear.

Mike has got it bad. Absently playing with the folder in his hand, he gnaws on his lip, not noticing his mind drifting until Harvey's voice cuts through the prolonged silence.

“Did you just have an epiphany that's going to save our asses in court tomorrow or is there another reason why you're doing nothing right now?”

Mike flushes, unable to help feeling caught at Harvey's sharp tone. He isn't even looking up from his file, which Mike takes as a clear sign that there is more than enough work to be done, and he instantly feels bad. “Er, no, sorry.”

“Then I suggest you get back to doing something right about now. I don't pay you to sit around.”

“Right.” Mike shuts the file and rises from his seat. “I'll go through the contracts again.”

“Don't let me keep you,” Harvey dismisses him dryly, still not looking up. Mike resists glancing at his face again and leaves. He is determined to return only once he has found something they can use. There must be something, there always is.

He is right. Of course there is. Mike finds it shortly before midnight, and he knows Harvey can hear it in the sound of his steps because his head lifts even as he approaches the office. His eyes are slightly reddened from the dim light and the long hours of staring at paperwork. He gives him an expectant look, quirking an eyebrow, and Mike hands over his file with the hint of a smile.

“Found the loophole.”

Harvey skims the highlighted bits, then looks up. “This is fantastic,” he says, and Mike lets the praise wash over him like a warm shower.

“I knew there was something,” he replies with a shrug, trying not to let show how pleased he is.

“I knew you would find it, if there was,” Harvey says and gives him a smile. It's not quite like the one that turned Mike's world upside down, but it's good. Very good. It's a private smile, a genuine if small one. It's just for Mike, because he earned it, because he did well and Harvey is happy with him, and Mike's chest swells with pride. It's a start, he decides, carefully filing the memory of this particular smile away to examine thoroughly later. “Good work, pup. Go home now. I need you in good shape tomorrow.”

“Yeah, alright.” Mike turns and heads towards the door before looking back over his shoulder. “You'll get some sleep too, right? You look done in.”

Harvey glances up, momentarily seeming surprised before letting his features soften into something that is close enough to a smile to count. Mike silently rejoices; it was a risk and he is more than happy with the result.

“I will,” Harvey promises. “Good night, Mike.”

“Night, Harvey,” Mike replies before heading to his cubicle to grab his things, a smile lingering on his lips as he heads out.

* * *

Mike has no trouble sleeping that night. He has rather a bit more trouble waking up after a dream that he is almost certain involved him and Harvey doing something together, though of no sexual nature whatsoever, only to discover that he is hard as a rock. Naturally.

He sighs and opts for a cold shower. He is in deep, yes, but he isn't far enough yet to stop feeling guilty about touching himself to thoughts of his boss/mentor/friend/whatever. He is late as it is anyway.

Harvey is in a relatively good mood when Mike meets him at the office, and he is glad for it. It means that the case is manageable, and that's all that matters to Harvey, to get what he wants. And he usually does.

Mike resolutely bans any wishful thinking about what he wants Harvey to want from his mind and tries to focus on the case, hoping to get another smile out of it once they win (and they will, he is certain of that. His faith in Harvey is unshakable). And it is a good thing he does focus, because the case is a ride, but Harvey is brilliant as always and he doesn't just break down the wall they've been backed against but positively destroys it, and Mike loves it. Loves him.

It's a big word, love, but Harvey is a big person, metaphorically, and if Mike is honest then he deems it the most fitting term to describe his feelings for the man.

Harvey smiles at him when they leave the courtroom, and it's his winner smile, not the one Mike yearns for, but his eyes linger on Mike's face and his features are striking in that satisfied smirk, and he'll take it. Good god, Mike will take it.

It's almost a week later when he sees his chance to tickle another big, real smile out of his boss. It's only Wednesday, but they've been buried in so much work that they feel like it's well into the weekend. When Mike leaves late in the evening, Harvey's lights are still on. When he returns long before eight in the morning, he is already there. They are busy with three cases at the same time, and while only one of them is urgent on Monday, it's suddenly all three of them by Wednesday. Even Harvey looks tired and worn out, and that is the crucial factor for Mike to start worrying.

It only takes a quick chat with Donna to confirm what Mike already suspects. When Harvey isn't going out for lunch or dinner with a client he is at the office, and when he is at the office he doesn't eat. There are no empty takeaway boxes, no wrapping papers or plastic bags that hint at food having entered the office recently. It might just be Mike's overactive imagination, but he thinks there is a certain haggard quality to Harvey's features, and that is simply unacceptable.

As he always does when in need of advice, he calls his grandmother. She is more than happy to help out with the tentative plan he has made and gives him all the instructions he needs. And so, after a fifteen hour day at the office, Mike gets to work. He falls into bed tired but accomplished a few hours later, packing the results into his bag carefully the next morning to make sure that they won't break.

He comes into the office early and works in record time, managing to dodge another workload that would have cost him the precious half hour break he will need later on. He walks up to Donna when Harvey is out, checking if he has a meeting that night. He doesn't, which means that everything is going according to plan. He makes his call, then retrieves the documents from Donna he asked for and gets to work.

He just so manages to get everything done, seeing nothing but letters in front of him when he closes his eyes, but it's well worth it. He meets the delivery man downstairs, not running into anyone on his way back upstairs – not surprising, as most people have gone home hours ago.

Harvey doesn't even look up when Mike enters the office.

“I can't help you.”

“No, but I can help you.”

Harvey lifts his head at that, his eyes immediately falling on the plastic containers stacked on Mike's arms. He lowers them on the table carefully, then holds out the arm that isn't pressing a file to his side as if to say, surprise!

Harvey blinks at him. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Feeding you. Since, you know, you aren't taking care of that yourself.”

Harvey lowers his file in disbelief. When he realizes that Mike is serious he sits back, speaking very deliberately, as though Mike might not understand it otherwise, “Your care for my wellbeing is touching, kid, but I've got work to do. If I had time for an impromptu picnic, I wouldn't be here.”

“No, you don't,” Mike says with a smile, ignoring the second statement to hand him the file he kept under his arm. “The contracts you had on your list, all worked through and sorted alphabetically. I couldn't take care of the funds as well, but this should clear you for half an hour. And I insist that you spend it with me and all this delicious, hot, spicy food.”

He opens the lid of one of the boxes, smiling in satisfaction when Harvey's eyes are drawn to the meal as the scent fills the office. He looks at the food, then at Mike, then back to the food. Mike wiggles his eyebrows as he waits.

Finally, Harvey nods and says, “Well, what are you still standing there for then? Come and sit down.”

“Awesome!” Mike grins and drops onto a seat. “So, I ordered your favorite from that Thai place two blocks away, and then I took the liberty of getting a few more side dishes to try out...”

While Mike explains the contents of the different boxes he glances at Harvey out of the corner of his eye, unable to keep the smile off his face at the sight of him. He is listening to Mike silently, an expression of calm fondness on his face. He looks soft like this, all the troubles of the week forgotten. He looks accessible. Touchable.

Not that Mike is going to touch him. But god, he wants to.

“That's quite the selection,” Harvey remarks when Mike is done and reaches for the curry. He goes for the box with the spring roles and picks one up with his fork.

“Only the best for Harvey Specter,” Mike replies easily.

They begin to eat, and to Mike's delight, Harvey is even willing to stray from the work to more personal topics. They chat about his baseball days and Mike's old high school, Harvey's condo and Mike's grandma.

Talking to Harvey is so easy. It sometimes worries Mike just how easy it can be, when he isn't mad at him for screwing something up or orders him around. He never feels like he can't talk to Harvey about something, no matter how personal or trivial. Should it be this easy to talk to your boss? Should it feel like talking to a friend, or someone very close to you? Mike thinks that he probably knows the answer to that, but he is glad for the fact that it does anyway.

By the time they are done most boxes are more than just half-empty, and Harvey is sitting back in his seat, a hand on his belly and a relaxed smile on his face. It's beautiful. Enchanting. His plan has been a raging success, and Mike just got his reward in the shape of Harvey's lips pulled upwards ever so slightly.

But Mike isn't done yet. He has another ace up his sleeve.

Harvey's gaze has drifted to his music collection as Mike closed the boxes, showing no sign of intending to go straight back to work, but he looks up at the treacherous rustling of the bag in Mike's hands. His eyebrows lift as Mike holds it out to him.

“Cookies?” he asks, looking dumbfounded for a precious moment. Mike can't help but smile.

“My grandma's recipe. They are the best, or at least they are when she makes them, but I think they turned out fairly decent for my first time.” He shakes the bag. “Try one.”

Mike wouldn't go as far as calling the state of his boss speechless, but the look he gives him is nevertheless something he is going to cherish for a very long time. Harvey takes a cookie as instructed. He inspects it like it's a piece of jewelry, then bites off a piece.

“Oh my god,” he lets out. His eyes snap to Mike. “What have you done?”

Mike grins, making a mental note to thank his grandma properly. “Good?” he asks innocently.

“You know damn well that they are. I didn't know you could bake.”

“It's the recipe. Grammy always used to make these for me when I was a kid and wasn't feeling well. You wanna know the secret?” Mike glances around conspiratorially, then gives him a meaningful look and mouths, “Triple chocolate.”

Harvey raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed, before ogling the bag in Mike's hands. Mike grins at the poorly concealed want in his features.

“Go on, have another. There's more than enough.”

Harvey shoots him a look, his eyes seeming to say seriously? loud and clear, but Mike is not backing down, and he can pinpoint the exact moment Harvey gives in and decides to just fuck it. The corner of his mouth lifts as he leans in, looking just a bit like a child at Christmas.

“Well, if you insist,” he remarks, reaching into the bag with a smile, and Mike just so resists jumping up and down in victory. God, this was worth the two hours in the kitchen last night. It looks adorable, radiating fondness and affection, and Mike basks in it.

“So,” Harvey says after swallowing down the second cookie, already reaching for the third, “just so we're clear, let me rephrase that. You went to your grandma specifically to ask her for this recipe. The recipe for the cookies she used to make you when you weren't feeling well. In order to be able to give them to me.”

Mike feels his face flushing at Harvey's attentive gaze, but he refuses to budge. “Yep, sounds about right.”

He almost expects a taunting remark, but it fails to come. Instead Harvey looks surprised, almost touched, and Mike suddenly has trouble swallowing. “What, no witty comment about how it seems like I care?” he asks in an attempt to fill the sudden quiet.

“Nah, I know you by now, Mike. It doesn't just seem like you care, you do. That's always been what stood out about you.”

Mike swallows. “Has it?”

Harvey gives him a long look. “Yes,” he says finally. “Although I will admit that it is... charming to see that care extended to me.”

Mike's breath hitches. The statement itself is casual enough, but the expression in Harvey's eyes suggests that the sentiment runs much deeper than a simple offhand remark. The thought makes him feel hot all over. He runs his sweaty palms over his pants.

“My, Harvey, that almost makes it sound like you care,” he jokes, and Harvey smiles again, though it is a little softer this time.

“If I didn't care, you wouldn't be here at all, kid.”

And that is a true statement if Mike ever heard one. They finish the cookies in companionable silence, though Mike feels the underlying tension after the loaded conversation acutely. Their break is interrupted when the ping of Harvey's phone reminds them of the existence of the outside world, and Mike gets up with a sigh when it's time to let him get back to work.

Sadly they don't get breaks like this often; either Mike is too busy or Harvey is, and Mike doesn't delude himself into thinking that Harvey wants to spend every free second with him. So this was a nice change. It felt strangely personal, sitting with Harvey in his office at night, enjoying some time together while everyone else is already at home. There was almost an air of intimacy to it, making Mike shiver when he thinks too much about it. And the expression on Harvey's face he already memorized tells him that he isn't the only one who felt it.

“Mike,” Harvey says when he is almost out of the door. Mike turns around.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Mike's lips curve into a smile, and Harvey returns the gesture readily. Mike's heart jumps in his chest. Three in one night. He couldn't ask for more than that. “You're very welcome, Harvey.”

“Go home, you've done enough for one day. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure, thank you. See you tomorrow.”

Mike leaves the door open behind him, smile still firmly in place.

Chapter Text

It's another long day at the office, only that it’s already night, really, and that it hasn’t been one but one of many in a row. It's not uncommon for Harvey to send Mike home at ungodly hours, showing no signs of leaving himself. Despite the yearning to go home and get some rest tugging at him, Mike hates to leave him behind like that.

He worries about Harvey, irrationally and uncontrollably. He just does. It’s not something he can turn off. So when he walks into Harvey’s office to hand him the files he has been losing his mind over since this morning only to find him asleep, slumped on his sofa, he can only shake his head in silence. The man is going to be the death of himself one day. He lets out a quiet sigh, leaving the folder on the desk before walking over to him. He just stands and watches for a moment, taking in the softness of Harvey's features, peaceful and relaxed. His lips are parted slightly, his eyes moving beneath his lids.

He looks younger, so much younger in sleep, and the sight cuts Mike right to the bone. There is something about it, about seeing Harvey in such a personal and unguarded moment that makes his heart jump in his chest. Mike knows that there is not much he could give Harvey, but he would lie down his very life for the man if he asked.

Harvey has no use for his life at the present moment, but he looks like he is going to be uncomfortable soon, when he wakes up at the latest. Uncomfortable, and most certainly cranky about the wrinkles in his taiolred suit that Mike can already spot from where he is standing. He heaves another sigh, then steps closer and gently touches Harvey’s shoulder.

“Harvey? Harvey, you shouldn't sleep like this.”

Harvey grumbles something unintelligible and doesn’t move. From this close Mike can see the faint shadow of stubble on his usually immaculate face, and there is a rather large part of him that wants to run his fingers over it, to feel the rough texture. He can think of quite a few scenarios in which he would like to do that, actually. Still, that isn't the most urgent thing on his mind at the moment. He shakes his head, unable to fight the wave of affection rising in him.

“Harvey,” he mumbles again, but Harvey ignores him in favor of sleeping on peacefully. So Mike makes a decision. He gently cups the back of his neck, then nudges his shoulder to guide him down into a lying position. Harvey doesn’t struggle as he arranges him, and though his expression moves into something grumpy and discontent at the unwanted interruption of his slumber, he doesn’t wake up. Mike kneels down and reaches for Harvey’s feet, untying his laces before pulling off his shoes.

He grabs his calves and lifts them onto the sofa, arranging his socked feet into what looks like a comfortable position, allowing himself to run his hands over the smooth quality of the expensive fabric for a moment. The suit probably cost more than what Mike earns in a month, yet he can’t help but think that it was worth every dollar and more. Harvey always looks impeccable in his suits, without fail. So much so that Mike could eat him alive. Though he suspects that is down to the man himself as much as the fancy clothes he wears.

Mike reluctantly takes his hands from Harvey’s suit, not wanting to be a creep. He pushes himself up, looking at Harvey when he stands again. He must really be done in if he slept through all this. His suit is unfortunately still going to be wrinkled when he wakes up, but there is nothing Mike can do about that. Taking his boss’s clothes off is questionable in any scenario; taking his clothes off while he is unconscious is definitely on the other side of morally right. Not to mention the legal implications.

His eyes move over his sleeping form before they come to rest on Harvey's face. That infuriating, hateful, attractive, beautiful face.

Mike sighs, trying to push down the urge to touch before finally surrendering to it. He can only fight a craving like this for so long. He holds his breath as he reaches out and lets the tips of his fingers brush Harvey’s cheek, applying only the barest hint of pressure. His heart is beating entirely too fast for such a simple caress.

He withdraws his hand before his fingers can linger, before Harvey wakes up and catches him doing what even Mike couldn’t explain without giving away his feelings. Still, he is reluctant to leave him like this. It's cool in the office, Harvey is going to get cold if he stays here. Mike retreats quietly, leaving the door ajar as he goes in search of a blanket. He finds a cozy one in the common room, imagines Harvey’s scandalized expression upon seeing it and takes it with him as he returns to the office.

Harvey is still fast asleep, a little curled into himself now. Mike unfolds the blanket and gently drapes it over him, smoothing the folds out before straightening. He watches the slow rise and fall of Harvey’s chest, then murmurs, “Good night, Harvey” and turns around.

He rubs his eyes as he walks back to his cubicle, heaving a sigh as he regards the stack of files that is still sitting there, waiting for him to work through it. Tomorrow, he decides. If Harvey is getting a good night’s sleep today, so should he. He clears his desk from the clutter of the day and switches off his lamp, leaving the firm as the penultimate lawyer once again.

He wonders if Harvey is going to wake up during the night (probably), if he is going to go back to work or back to sleep (undecided), if he is going to stay at the office or go home (stay at the office almost certainly – Mike knows of the two spare suits he keeps at the firm, as well as the toiletries he is sure Harvey thinks he doesn't know about). But his own exhaustion is catching up with him fast, and he falls into bed before he can spend too long thinking about Harvey's sleeping habits.

When he returns to Pearson Hardman in the morning, definitely having slept too little but still feeling more rested than before, Harvey is of course already there.

“Morning,” Mike says as he drops off a file at his office, and Harvey replies with an uncharacteristically gentle, “Good morning, Mike.”

A look at his face betrays that he is feeling more rested as well, and Mike is almost certain that the suit he is wearing is one of the spare ones. Didn't go home then.

Mike briefly asks himself whether Harvey would appreciate him just not saying anything about the incident, but he figures that he knows that Mike knows anyway, and so he says, “How's the neck? That didn't look comfortable for the first few minutes there.”

“Fine, thanks to you,” Harvey gives back, quirking an eyebrow. His expression is almost challenging, although Mike can spot the underlying softness by now. He responds to it with a smile and says, “No problem at all. And the suit?”

Harvey wrinkles his nose, waving his hand. “Crumpled. Can't be helped."

“Right. Well, I'm sure you'll live. Anyway, I've got the files you wanted on the Lessing case. You were right about the contract they have with Porter Oil, it's not effectual over there anymore.”

Harvey's face lights up. “Perfect. Give it here.”

Mike hands him the files. “I'm going to check out Scottish law on the matter, I'll get back to you on that in a bit,” he promises, then turns around when Harvey nods absently.

“Oh, Mike?” he calls out when he is almost at the door, and Mike looks back.

“Yep?”

Harvey smiles at him. “Thank you. For last night.”

Mike grins in return, mentally punching the air as he drinks in the sight of the lines around Harvey's eyes, the shape of his lips pulled upwards. It's breathtaking. “Anytime, Harvey.”

And he means it. Even more so if he gets a smile like that out of him for it.

Chapter Text

“Mike? Mike, are you listening to me?”

Mike startles at the sound of Harvey's voice. “Sorry, what?”

Harvey gives him a long look, furrowing his brow. “You haven't heard a word I've just said, have you?”

“Er, no. Sorry.”

“What's the matter with you?”

Mike lets out a deep breath. “Nothing. Sorry, I'm just out of it. Won't happen again.”

He tries to look attentive to get Harvey to move on, but he is having none of it. He narrows his eyes, then sits back. “What did you do?” he inquires, mildly curious, and Mike sighs.

“Why do you think I've done something?”

“I know you, Mike. Just tell me what it is. You can trust me.”

“I know that,” Mike says with a huff. He knows Harvey is not serious, but the mere implication that he doesn't trust him with his very life is preposterous.

Harvey folds his hands together. “Well? I'm waiting.”

Mike rolls his eyes, but sighs. “If you must know, I didn't really get any sleep last night.”

Harvey waits a moment, then probes, “Because...”

“Because I was trying to knit my grandma a sweater,” Mike murmurs. Harvey returns his gaze blankly, then shakes his head once.

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I could have sworn you just said you were trying to knit a sweater for your grandmother.”

Mike just gives him a look. Harvey opens his mouth, then closes it. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Harvey's lip quivers, and the next thing Mike knows he is bending over with an undignified snort, his shoulders shaking as he tries to suppress the laughter bubbling up in him. Mike would be terribly annoyed if the sight he makes and the sounds coming from him weren't making him so goddamn happy.

“Are you done?” he asks with an exasperated sigh when Harvey straightens, shaking his head when the question only serves to crack him up again, the giggling making him seem ten years younger at least.

“Sorry, I'm just-” Harvey takes a deep breath. “Why the hell are you trying to knit a sweater?”

“It was supposed to be a gift for my grandma,” Mike repeats.

Harvey presses his lips together in an attempt to keep a straight face, making a vague humming sound. “But a sweater?”

Mike throws his head back and groans. “Alright, listen. My grandma is an old person, yes? And she has issues with her health, which is why I put her in the home in the first place. And now that I work so much and barely have time to visit her I thought it would be nice if she had something of mine. Something that I made for her.”

Harvey seems to process that piece of information before nodding once. “And what made you decide to knit her a sweater in propitiation last night?”

“I got a call yesterday that she'd slipped and sprained her ankle. I wanted to cheer her up.”

“Well,” Harvey remarks dryly, “I'm sure just telling her the story of the tragic fate of her sweater is going to take care of that.”

“Oh, I knew I should never have told you!” Mike exclaims, but the sparkle in Harvey's eyes appeases him enough to not actually be mad. He might just get something good out of this humiliating conversation after all.

“And anyway, if I don't have anything to give to her, she is never going to hear that I even tried,” he continues. “I'm not telling her unless I get it right.”

Harvey's lips curl in amusement. “And exactly how wrong did you get it last night?”

“Extremely,” Mike admits with reluctance. Harvey smirks at him.

“Then you have a lot of work to do before she gets to hear this enchanting story. Or, you know, has something to remember you by.”

“You're right.” Mike sighs. “Well, I'll just have to practice a lot, won't I?”

“Since this is not something your memory can help you with, I have to agree. As long as it doesn't interfere with your actual job,” Harvey warns mock-sternly.

“It won't, promise.” Mike sits back and smiles. “But I am going to keep it up. I wasn't going to after last night's disaster, but you inspired me.”

The corner of Harvey's mouth lifts. Seeing his chance, Mike decides to push a little further. “And when I do, I'm sure you'll be willing to be my model, won't you?” He smirks. “If it's for my grandma.”

Harvey snorts. “Not in a million years, kid, but nice try.”

“Aw.” Mike makes a face. “And here I was thinking that you actually gave a shit about me.”

“I give more than just a shit about you,” Harvey says, his voice gentle despite their banter. “And you know it, too. But I have to draw the line somewhere. Otherwise the other kids will get jealous.”

Mike purses his lips, looking up at him from under his lashes as he tries to hold back a smile. “You would look smashing in that sweater, just saying.”

“What a shame it is that the world is never going to see that image.”

“Oh, don't say that. Maybe I will make you one too, once I figure out how.”

“I'll pass, but thanks.”

“I would put a clever line on it. Harvey Reginald Specter, lawyer and asshole extraordinaire.”

“There is nothing clever about the simple truth,” Harvey points out.

“True,” Mike concedes. “Then how about, I am Harvey Specter and I give a shit?”

“Somehow I am not convinced.”

“List of things I care about: The law (sometimes), winning, Mike Ross.”

Harvey snorts and shakes his head, smirking. “Can't show my Achilles' heel like that, can I?”

“No, I suppose you shouldn't,” Mike agrees, trying not to get distracted by how readily Harvey is admitting to caring about him, or the pleasant tingling sensation in his belly the fact evokes. “Then here's my last offer. An arrow with the caption I'm with genius fraud who never actually studied the law but still makes a better lawyer than everyone else.”

Harvey dissolves into laughter, a deep and enticing rumble in his throat that is absolutely mesmerizing to witness. Mike watches the way his lips stretch into a big smile, how the lines around his sparkling eyes deepen. How he never takes his eyes off Mike.

“You know what?” Harvey says when he has caught his breath, regarding him with an easy grin. “I might just accept that one. In the very far future. If your sweater knitting skills improve drastically.”

“Well, that is an incentive if I ever had one. Grammy will be so pleased.”

Harvey huffs out another laugh. “Go back to work, Mike,” he instructs, but his voice lacks scolding. “I was telling you about the comparison I need for Logan Dews before you started going on about your knitting endeavors. I want that on my desk in two hours. And no more talking about sweaters until you have results to show.”

“Yes, sir,” Mike agrees with a salute, grinning as he leaves the office.

Chapter Text

Mike is not trying to stalk his boss, honestly. The fact that they end up in the same coffee shop on the weekend after already having spent the whole week together is entirely accidental.

At least Harvey seems to believe him, since the way Mike startles when he hears his voice out of nowhere is entirely authentic.

“You here for a coffee too? God, it's just me, you don't have to look so scared,” Harvey jokes at the sight of Mike's face.

Mike isn't scared. Mike has just been lost in thoughts about the very man that is standing behind him, thoughts he really doesn't want Harvey to know about.

“Harvey,” he says in greeting, shaking his head as his heartbeat returns to normal. “Sorry, you just startled me. I didn't expect to see you here. This isn't your usual spot, is it?”

“No, it's not. But I was in the area, and I have it on good authority that the coffee here is fantastic.”

“Really? Who told you that?”

Harvey takes a sip from his cup, amusement playing on his features. “You did.”

Mike blinks. “Right.”

He turns around when the queue moves forward. Harvey easily steps beside him.

“What are you getting?” he inquires.

“Uh, a tall caramel cappuccino with extra foam.” He glances at Harvey's cup. “You?”

“A skinny latte with extra cocoa.”

“Enjoying it?”

Harvey's lips quirk up. “I've had worse.”

Mike expects him to return to his table at one point, or leave, but Harvey stays by his side as he stands in line. He listens in silence when he orders, lifting an eyebrow when Mike adds, “And a double chocolate chip cookie, please. Ah, make that two.”

He drums his fingers against the counter as he waits for his order, feeling hyper-aware of Harvey's tall presence by his side. Harvey takes another sip of his drink and Mike tries very hard to keep his gaze ahead instead of staring at the enticing movement of his bobbing Adam's apple.

He gives the barista a brief smile when he pushes his order over the counter. “Thanks.”

Gathering the cup and the plate in his hands, he turns to him. Harvey is still beside him, looking at him expectantly, and Mike takes heart. “Do you have somewhere to be? Otherwise, you know, we could sit down with that.”

Harvey points towards the tables with his cup. “After you.”

They grab a seat and Mike closes his eyes as he takes the first sip of his drink, humming before setting down the cup and pushing the plate towards Harvey.

Harvey lifts his eyebrows. “I'm not gonna steal your cookies.”

“Why? One of them is for you. I don't usually indulge that much,” Mike jokes.

Harvey blinks at him. “You got one for me?”

“Well, I know you like cookies, so...”

“What if I'd had somewhere to be?”

Mike gives him a smile before biting into his own cookie enthusiastically, explaining, “Then I would have had two for myself, genius,” through the bite.

Harvey looks at him in amusement before reaching for the cookie. “Well, thank you then.”

“You're welcome. I expect some sort of reduction of my workload for that, by the way.”

“Oh no, it's too late for that. Should have made me sign a written contract before giving up that cookie, but nice try.”

Mike lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I gave it my best.”

Harvey chuckles. “This is good,” he then says, rubbing some crumbs from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. Mike watches the movement, mesmerized by the touch, fighting the sudden urge to reach out and brush away the crumbs himself, to feel the texture of those lips beneath his finger.

Before Harvey notices what he is thinking about Mike remarks, “Not as good as my grammy's recipe, mind you, but it's an okay alternative.”

Harvey leans back in his seat. “How is your grandma?”

Mike lifts his eyebrows. “Seriously? You're taking an interest in my grandmother's life?”

“I'm taking an interest in your life, Mike,” Harvey corrects. “And I figure your grandmother is a big part of that.”

“She is,” Mike agrees. “She's been doing much better since her ankle has started healing, actually.”

“Did you ever succeed in making that sweater for her?”

Mike points a finger at Harvey in warning. “Don't mock me. I did not, as a matter of fact, but she didn't need me to do that in order to become better. She's very strong.”

“Still, it's a shame,” Harvey remarks dryly. Then he regards him in silence for a moment, searching Mike's face. “You care a lot about her, don't you?”

Mike nods. “She's the most important person in my life,” he agrees softly. “She was there for me when nobody else was. She always... took care of me, even when she wasn't doing well herself. I mean, I wasn't the only one who lost someone the night of the accident. She lost her family too. And she suddenly found herself responsible for a frightened, grieving kid. But she never once complained. Never made me feel like I was a burden to her.”

He pauses for a moment, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “I owe her everything good I had in my life right until I went and screwed it up. And even then she never made me feel like a failure. She was just there for me. And she always let me know that I was loved. That I am loved, and enough, and cared for. She is just... lovely.”

Harvey moves his finger over the rim of his cup in slow circles. “She sounds like a great woman.”

“She is. She's one of the best people I've ever known.”

Harvey holds Mike's gaze. “Well, she didn't do a bad job of raising another one of those.”

Mike opens his mouth to reply, but finds himself at a loss for words. “Uh, thanks,” he gets out, taking a sip to hide his flushing face. Harvey gives him an amused look that tells him that he knows exactly what he's doing.

“Do you have someone like that?” Mike asks abruptly, struck by a sudden desire to know more of the person behind the suit, the one he is only ever getting such enticing glimpses of. “Someone like who my grandma is for me, I mean.”

Harvey looks pensive. Mike lets him ponder the question, finishing his cookie in the meantime. When Harvey starts talking, Mike is surprised by how much thought he has given his answer. He expected a simple yes or no, possibly not even a name if Harvey deemed the information too personal. What he gets instead is open and revealing, and he hangs on Harvey's every word.

“I wouldn't say that I have a singular person who embodies that for me, what your grandmother is for you. But I do have people around me that I know I can count on. People I would trust with my life if it came down to it. Whenever I have needed it, I've been shown that I have a great support system.”

Mike nods slowly. “I've seen you talking to Jessica at the office. The two of you have a special relationship. And Donna too, of course. Hell, probably even Louis would be there for you.”

Harvey chuckles. “Probably,” he agrees. Then he adds, “And you would, too. I know that, and I appreciate it.”

Mike blinks at him in surprise, unable to help the smile creeping up on his face. “As you would for me,” he gives back. Harvey gives a nod, entirely serious, and Mike raises his cup. “To loyalty.”

Harvey clinks his cup against his and nods. “Loyalty,” he repeats and takes a sip alongside him. Mike swallows down the pleasant warmth, feeling it all the way down to his belly. He doubts that it's only the cappuccino causing the sensation.

“Seriously though, can you imagine Jessica in this place?” he then asks, going back to less serious topics. “Or Louis?”

And so they talk, going from one topic to the next naturally, never once having to search for things to say. It just flows. Mike can only marvel at how easy it is to talk to Harvey. Of course he has never had any trouble talking to him, or trusting him, but this is a whole new level, different even from the more private talks they have over lunch or a late dinner sometimes. This is opening up and listening in a way they have never done before, that has nothing to do with their work whatsoever.

They talk well into the afternoon, neither of them making any move to cut their chance meeting short. Mike nurses his drink long after it has gone cold, finding himself reluctant to get to the end. Inevitably he reaches a point where postponing it any further is impossible, and so Mike lifts his cup to drink the last sip with an internal sigh. He only realizes then that Harvey's cup must have been empty for a while now, though he never said a word about it.

“I should probably get going,” he murmurs when he puts the cup down, feeling entirely too regretful at the prospect. Though this was unexpected, Mike had such a great time with Harvey that he is loath to return to his flat.

Harvey quirks an eyebrow. “Got a date?” His tone is playful, but there's an underlying tone to his voice that catches Mike's interest, and so he makes up his mind to take a chance. He can still pretend it was a joke if it backfires.

“No. None other than this one, that is.”

Harvey smiles, and Mike could swear that it is full of approval. Unable to hold himself back he adds, “Though I don't usually let my dates pay for their own drink, despite of what you might believe.”

Harvey grins, wide and open and so heartstoppingly gorgeous that Mike's heart jumps in his chest.

“You did buy me a cookie,” he points out, and Mike concedes it with a nod before Harvey continues. “Besides, I think we can both agree that this was a highly unusual date.”

But it was one, Mike thinks, and he can see in the look Harvey is giving him that the meaning of his statement is not lost on him.

“Agreed,” Mike says and grabs both of their cups to dump them in the trash nearby. Harvey stands up as well, holding out his jacket with a charming smirk. The only thing missing is that he holds it open for Mike to slip into, he thinks with a grin.

“Thanks.”

Harvey just nods. They head for the door, which Mike rushes to hold open for Harvey, who regards him with a look that conveys loud and clear what he is thinking, but Mike refuses to budge. If it's a date, it is a date. There are rules.

“Well, Harvey,” he says when they turn to each other outside, “this was a very nice date.”

It is an understatement, and he sees the glint in Harvey's eyes as he nods. Pushing one hand into his pocket, he reaches for Harvey's with the other. Never taking his eyes from him he raises it to his lips, smiling slightly as he presses a feathery kiss to his knuckles. “Bears repeating, if you ask me.”

He is walking a dangerous line here, he knows that, but he feels validated by the way Harvey is looking at him, how they can never seem to stop orbiting each other. He can still go back to pretending that it just a joke, though Harvey's expression tells him that he won't have to.

“I agree,” he says, gentle and with no mocking in his tone, squeezing Mike's hand once before letting go. “Next time the treat is on me, though.”

He gives him a final smile before turning around and walking away. Mike's eyes follow him until the line of his shoulders has disappeared in the crowd.

“Next time,” he repeats to himself, then suppresses a giggle and turns around to make his way home, unable to keep the skip out of his steps.

Chapter Text

To Mike's great distress, they haven't yet gotten the chance to repeat their spontaneous date. Work is absolutely insane after Harvey gets a big case with one of New York's leading electricity suppliers, and though the two of them work together there is hardly any room for the occasional glance or purposeful brush of hands, much less any comments that might steer them in the direction Mike so desperately wants them to go.

Or smiles. Those are what Mike misses the most. He doesn't even need another date, deep and meaningful conversations or even just playful banter. He just wants to see Harvey smile again, that special smile he managed to coax out of him several times by now, the memory of which keeps him awake at night.

But there are more important things to focus on, and Harvey's smiles or the lack thereof inevitably get pushed to the back of Mike's mind. The case drags on. It takes almost two full weeks until they even get anywhere and two hearings, a completely new approach and so many late nights at the office that Mike has lost count before they can finally call it a win.

The ecstasy of their success runs in Mike's veins when they finally hold the signed documents in their hands, and the look he exchanges with Harvey is so charged, full of shared relief and pent up emotions that it seems to linger forever.

There is so much there in Harvey's expression, so much of Mike's own feelings reflected back at him, that it momentarily takes his breath away. It takes a lot of effort to tear his eyes away, but he knows that there is a time and place for what he wants, and it is not here and now. They are going to have to talk about it, but this is not the right moment. There are other things on their minds, files Harvey has to sort out, things he has to settle with their client, and whatever it is that has been stirring between them will have to wait.

He goes home on his own, not managing much more than ordering some pizza and stuffing his face before passing out on the sofa in a food-and-exhaustion-induced state of unconsciousness. He wakes up the next day – a Saturday, thankfully, and the first free one in ages at that – with a crick in his neck, but well rested. He stretches his back with a drawn out sigh, stealing a glance at the clock before putting the remains of the pizza away and deciding that he needs a shower.

Once he has slipped into a comfortable shirt and trousers afterwards – no suits all weekend, he promises himself – he drops down on the sofa and settles in with a book, enjoying some free time for what feels like the first time in weeks.

This is how he still sits when his doorbell rings, effectively ripping him from the story he was immersed in. A glance at the clock tells him that he has been reading for about an hour. It's still relatively early, not quite noon yet, and he isn't expecting anyone.

He heaves himself up from the sofa, dropping the book on the shelf on his way to the door. Opening up, expecting to find a deliveryman or the neighbor from the second floor who keeps forgetting to buy milk, he halts when he sees the person in front of it.

“Harvey,” Mike says in surprise, his stomach prickling in pleasant anticipation at the unexpected but definitely not unwelcome sight. “What are you doing here?” A thought crosses his mind before he can reply and he groans. “Please don't tell me you need me at the office. We settled the case, didn't we? Did something else come up? I literally just got a few hours of sleep-”

Harvey chuckles lowly, effectively shutting him up. “Relax, Mike,” he soothes him, and Mike, while part of his brain revels in the familiar and yet oh so exhilarating sound of his voice, realizes then that he isn't in his usual formal clothing either. He is wearing a pair of jeans that probably still cost more than Mike's monthly rent and a Henley shirt with long sleeves that looks exceptionally soft and inviting with the way it hugs his torso just right. He looks insanely attractive, and Mike has to force himself not to gape like a creep. The fact that his top two buttons are undone does not help at all.

“If I needed you at the office, I wouldn't have come all the way here,” Harvey continues, snapping him out of his distracted musings. “I would have just called.”

“Oh. Right.” Mike clears his throat. “So... do you want to come in?”

Harvey smiles. “With pleasure,” he replies, and Mike is pleased to hear no traces of sarcasm in his voice. He closes the door behind Harvey, who looks so completely out of place and yet entirely at home in his apartment, hovering near the door before taking a step into the room. Harvey turns to look at him, not giving any signs of being in a hurry or about to make a move. He is just there. He just looks at Mike.

Mike swallows. “So this is just a social call?”

“Yeah.” Harvey pauses. “Is that alright?”

You have to ask? Mike thinks, and then says as much. Harvey smiles at that, and Mike pushes his hands into his pockets, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. “Coffee?” he offers, and Harvey nods, strolling further into the apartment while Mike slips into the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Harvey says when he hands him a cup. Mike settles on the sofa with a smile and Harvey follows suit only a moment later, lowering himself rather a bit closer than what would be usually acceptable, just far enough away not to touch him. Mike itches for him to touch him, but he resists the urge to slide closer and focuses on sipping his coffee instead. For now.

“I didn't wake you up, did I?”

He looks up to find Harvey's eyes roaming over his attire before coming to rest on his face. “No, I was reading. Got up about an hour ago after passing out pretty early on last night.” He chuckles, then takes a moment to regard Harvey's face more closely. He looks much more well rested than when Mike last saw him, but that isn't everything that catches his eye. There is a softness to his features that seems to derive from utter relaxation, from being at ease and without a care in the world. The fact that he displays such contentment in Mike's presence, after willingly seeking him out on their first free day for the sole purpose of spending time with him, just because he wants to, fills Mike with so much warmth that he thinks it must be radiating off him.

“Did you sleep well?” he inquires despite the visual evidence, because he genuinely cares and he wants Harvey to know that he does, and Harvey nods with a smile.

“Like a baby.”

Mike lifts an eyebrow. “Had sweet dreams?”

Harvey meets his gaze and holds it. “Definitely.”

Mike considers saying something equally corny, but what comes out is, “Well, I basically slipped into a pizza-induced coma. Didn't feel anything for about twelve hours, I slept like a stone.”

Judging by the snort Harvey makes, it was the right thing to say. “I'm glad I didn't come by earlier then,” he remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he raises his coffee to take another sip. Mike blinks at the image presented to him, Harvey drinking from the Disneyland mug his grandma got him when he was fifteen and which has been a secret favorite of his ever since, and it is so unreal and so perfect that he has to tighten his grip on his coffee to prevent himself from tackling Harvey against the backrest of the sofa right then and there.

“You are always welcome here,” he says into the comfortable silence instead, turning his head to look at Harvey. “With twelve hours of sleep or two or none, you can always come over if you want to. Just as long as you don't drag me back to the office before I've had a day to myself,” he adds, and Harvey's eyes are fixed on him as he gives him another one of those radiant smiles. This is becoming a habit, Mike thinks, light-headed.

“Thank you,” Harvey says, and his voice is so gentle and soft and sincere that Mike's throat momentarily closes up.

“Harvey...”

He isn't aware that he is going to say his name until he already has, and he doesn't know he is going to sit up and move closer to him until they are already inches apart. They are close, so close all of a sudden, eyes fixed on each other, half drunk mugs of coffee forgotten, and it is the most surprising and at the same time the most natural thing in the world when Harvey leans in and Mike tilts his head just the slightest bit and their lips finally, finally meet.

It is not the way Mike imagined it to happen, which, if he is honest, he did a lot. He thought it would be at the office, or at Harvey's condo, with both of them clad in a suit. Maybe at a restaurant, at the coffee shop their first date took place in. He never thought it would be in his apartment, at about eleven thirty in the morning on a Saturday during a spontaneous visit.

It is not the way Mike imagined it to happen at all. It is absolutely perfect.

Harvey is warm and solid, a gentle press against his mouth and his chest, he tastes of the coffee Mike has made for him and something that Mike instantly recognizes as uniquely him, and it is perfect in its imperfection.

Harvey lets out a quiet sigh against his lips, almost like he has been holding his breath waiting for this, and they both deepen the kiss at the sound, their lips parting as they move together, exploring each other gently, unhurriedly, and so full of attention and unconcealed care that Mike's head swims.

“Mike,” Harvey murmurs against his lips when they eventually part, never breaking apart completely. Mike reluctantly opens his eyes, blinking in surprise at the intensity of his gaze.

“Yeah.” It comes out as a croak, and he clears his throat before trying again. “Yeah?”

“I need to ask you- I need to know that you're really okay with this.”

“What-” Mike draws back a little. “Of course I am! You must know how long I have wanted this, Harvey. You must have seen it.”

Harvey bows his head in a nod, never taking his eyes from Mike's. “I thought I did. I certainly hoped so. But I need to hear you say it. I need to be one hundred percent certain that you want this as much as I do before we take this any further, because-”

“You are still my boss, and you don't want to take advantage of me,” Mike finishes for him. “I get it,” he says with a nod, and then places his hands on each side of Harvey's face, brushing his thumbs over his cheeks before leaning in and placing another soft kiss on his lips. It's very gentle, and very deliberate, and Harvey's eyes fall closed as he lets himself be kissed, taking the gesture for the answer that it is.

“I've wanted this for such a long time that I can't tell you when I didn't think of you that way,” Mike says when he draws back, making it a point to speak the words loudly and clearly. No room for hesitation or doubt. He understands the importance of this, the implications, and he wants to make sure they are on the same page. That Harvey knows that he is all in, no question. “I'm doing this of my own free will, and while I understand that you are my boss at the office, those are two different things that have absolutely nothing to do with each other. What we do in private is in no way related to work.” He lets out a deep breath after the formal statement, curving his lips into a small smile. “Besides, do you really think I'm the type to let myself be taken advantage of?”

Harvey lets out a chuckle. “No,” he concedes. “But I needed to be sure.”

“And are you now?”

“I am,” he confirms, and with that he cups Mike's cheek and brings their lips together again. Mike lets himself be kissed willingly, letting out a happy sigh as they get to know the taste and shape of each other's mouth intimately.

“This is as good as I imagined it would be,” he mumbles when they part again, his lips tingling with the ghost of Harvey's presence.

Harvey blinks his eyes open and, despite looking quite pleased at the prospect of Mike having imagined this, quirks an eyebrow. “Not better? That's disappointing. I need to up my game.”

Mike is not quite sure how he is going to do that without sending him into cardiac arrest, so he says, “Nope, it's just because I have a very high opinion of you and your... skills. In many areas. I expected nothing less.”

Harvey smirks, leaning in to attack him with another deep, thorough kiss that leaves him desperate to breathe. “I have to admit that you're not so bad yourself,” he murmurs when they part for air, and Mike laughs out loud. Harvey regards him fondly, then tilts his head. “In many areas, you say?”

“So many.”

Harvey grins at him, open and uninhibited, and Mike's heart skips a beat. “I love when you do that,” he blurts, blinking as his words catch up with him. Harvey lifts an eyebrow, and Mike, seeing no way out but through, continues, “That smile, I mean. You kind of ruined my self-control with that, actually.”

Harvey gives him a perplexed look. “How so?” he wants to know and god, he really has no idea. Mike sighs and shakes his head.

“I had it all under control, you know? My... crush on you. And then you went and smiled at me like that, and it was like every bit of resolve I'd ever had to not let this get out of hand went straight out the window.” He smiles, raising his hand to brush Harvey's cheek without thinking about it. Harvey just sits and lets him as he listens. “You look so happy like that. It's like for one moment, all your worries are just gone. You're just you, and happy. It's really addictive to look at.”

Mike falls silent as he focuses on the texture of Harvey's smooth skin beneath his fingers, having hardly a moment to wonder if he showed his hand too much before he finds himself pushed backwards as Harvey practically climbs on top of him, claiming his mouth in a kiss so enthusiastic it steals all the air out of his lungs.

When he starts getting dizzy, Harvey abruptly pulls back. “You really like the smile that much?” he enquires, and he looks so genuinely curious and intrigued that Mike can't help but laugh.

“Yeah, I really, really do. So much so that I kept trying to get it out of you, actually. Always felt like I'd hit the jackpot when I managed.”

“Huh.” Harvey looks at him, a very deliberate smile spreading on his face before he lowers his face to his neck, nudging him with his nose. Mike tilts his head to grant him access willingly.

“You don't even have to try, Mike,” Harvey murmurs into the soft skin on his neck, plastering a line of kisses down his throat. “You make me smile all the time. Not many people manage that.”

Mike is torn between saying good, I want to be the only one and that's sad, you need to show the world that smile more often, but he ends up saying nothing at all, because Harvey recaptures his mouth, and then he rolls them over on the sofa, and he doesn't let go for a long time after that.

And a smile or two are definitely involved, too.