Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harvey Specter was enjoying the increasingly rare opportunity to tune out the rest of the world's bullshit in the boxing ring. His sweat soaked shirt stuck to the curve between his shoulder blades, cooling as he turned his back to the upright fans in order to follow his trainer.

“Heya Harv.,” called an oily voice.

Harvey rolled his eyes and accepted the water bottle his trainer offered, then gestured his head to the side in dismissal. Drinking his fill, he turned and rested his gloved hands on the ropes.
“Looking to get your ass kicked again Tanner?”

“Yea, right. Good one Harv, I let you have the win last time. You won't be that lucky twice, pretty boy.”

“Think whatever you want. Now tell me why you came all the way down here, so I can get to the part where I tell you to fuck off.”

“Ouch Harv, I'm wounded.” Tanner brought his hand to his heart. “I've been authorized to negotiate on behalf of Wainright Pharmaceuticals. Isn't it time you put an end to your little witch hunt?”

Harvey switched into negotiation mode. “Subpromax was given FDA approval as a controlled substance, authorized only for palliative care. Wainright's drug reps have been unlawfully supplying samples to shady doctors with step by step instructions for getting their physically healthy patients hooked. Nothing is on the table without the a list providing the names of every doctor their reps have targeted.”

“Never gonna happen Harv. Good luck getting anyone to talk before Friday.” Tanner pasted on a sleazy grin and snapped his fingers. A young woman stepped out from behind a free standing upright floor bag. An eery lack of facial expression gave the otherwise attractive woman a hollow quality.

The gears whirred in Harvey's brain, hadn't he seen that woman before? He ran through every person he'd seen in the past week, then went back another week, and another, until it clicked. 3 weeks ago Jennifer Brushwood agreed to testify that Wainright Pharmaceuticals had hired her as a new rep and specifically instructed her to peddle Subpromax to a select list of Psychiatrists, General Practitioners, and Addiction Specialists. He'd been nagging Donna to get in touch with the woman when she failed to show for a meeting. Damnit, he should have known, but that halfway catatonic thing barely resembled the vibrant, doggedly determined Jennifer he had met before. Harvey tore his gloves off and fumbled to snap a picture with his cell phone with his taped up hands. He was just able to catch the woman's reflection in the door window as she followed Tanner outside.

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“Mike you gonna get that?” Todd asked from his corner cubicle.

Right, the phone was ringing. Mike knocked over a half empty drink and watched helplessly as it spilled across his desk. He ignored the run off pouring onto his pants and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Mike Ross.” he all but groaned into the receiver.

“What are the side effects of Subpromax?” Harvey asked without preamble.

“Um...” It usually came to him a lot quicker than this. “Side effects of Subpromax...” He stalled for time.

“Yea Mike, list them to me.” His boss snapped.

“Right, uh...muscle weakness, lethargy, dry mouth, difficulty concentrating.” He flipped the pages in his mind, “Unlisted side effects include volatile emotions, over attachment to caregiver, dissociation, lack of self motivation, and withdrawal from everyday activities.”

“Shit. Okay, you need to call all of our witnesses for the Wainright case and warn them they might be in danger.”

“Got it. Bye Harvey.” Mike put the phone down, picked it up again, and dialed the first number on his list.

Harvey packed up and headed home, working late into the evening to connect the dots. The drug reps assigned to market Subpromax were all new hires, none with more than 6 months at Wainright. They underwent a battery of tests, including personality inventories, which the company claimed was standard for applicants who would be marketing face to face. The name of the personality inventory was redacted, but when Harvey saw the first page everything clicked. The redacted typing on the page matched something he'd seen years ago at Harvard. A psych professor had visited his Legal Methods class one day and asked each student to fill out a worksheet anonymously. She called it The Donaldson Confidence Survey, and two years later it was hailed as the first written test to accurately predict where a person would fall on the spectrum of dominance and submission. They were testing their reps for these traits, but for what purpose? Was it possible that Subpromax functioned differently in submissives? Was that why poor Jennifer Brushwood had seemed so dazed?
He downed the rest of his whiskey and shook his head. These conspiracy theories sounded like Lois's particular brand of crazy, and if he was thinking like a man who had once licked his own cat, then it was way past time to throw in the towel. He stood to stretch, yawned, and crawled into bed.

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“Donna, did Mike get you the name of Donaldson's research assistant yet?” Harvey called from his office.

“I dunno Harvey, he hasn't said anything to me.” She said, picking up the phone to dial the kid's extension. Donna understood why Harvey thought it was okay to pile work on Mike even though it had only been two months since Grammy's death. She thought it was a bullshit approach, but she understood that he was coming from a good place.

“Well can you call him...”

Donna cut him off, “I did, he's not answering. Not even his cell.”

Harvey said he'd be back and walked toward the elevators, bristling with irritation. He was still composing the lecture he was going to hit Mike with when he arrived at the associates' bullpen. Mike was either sleeping or reading a document VERY closely. “Mike!” he demanded in a raised voice. If he was expecting to startle the kid, then he was disappointed. Slowly though, Mike raised his head, eyes half lidded, and looked up at his boss without concern.

“Why wasn't anything I asked for on my desk this morning?”

Finally hearing the disapproval in Harvey's voice, Mike straightened up a little. “What did you ask for again?”

“You didn't read your email? Forget it. Todd, look up Dr. Amanda Donaldson from Harvard and find out who her research assistant is, then get all the information you can on both of them. Mike, follow me.” When Mike followed unquestioningly, Harvey wasn't immediately alarmed. When they made it back to Harvey's office without a peep from the kid, he capitulated to the troubling suspicion whirring in his mind. Mike just stood there while Harvey called Donna in and asked her to close the blinds. He held up a finger to her, indicating that she should just watch.

“Mike, sit on the couch.” Harvey ordered.

They watched as the boy slowly approached the coach, sat down stiffly, and bowed his head. Harvey shared a knowing glance with Donna. “Good boy.” he said, testing it out...and sure enough, upon hearing the praise Mike relaxed his muscles. “Did you go home last night Mike?” A slow head shake 'no.' “You're tired. Lie down and go to sleep.”

Mike obeyed, but didn't close his eyes, instead staring up at Harvey. “Will you be here?” his voice was soft, almost childlike.

Harvey pulled Mike's shoes off and held his hand. “I'll be right here, now close your eyes.” He waited a moment, then got up to whisper to Donna.
“I need you to get a blanket from Louis, we all know he has at least one. Call Ray to bring the car around in fifteen minutes. Tell everyone I'll be away at a meeting for the rest of the day. Get everything off of Mike's desk and bring it to me. Find out whoever Mike's doctors are, and give me their names. If you get any trouble, tell them I'm his lawyer. And get Lola Jensen to call me. I'll explain later today, when you come up with a rock solid excuse to leave after lunch and meet me at my condo.”

Donna smiled, needing to do no more to communicate all he needed her to, and strode out the room.

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Mike woke in a heavy lidded daze, wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket. A hand on his back brought him to a slightly upright position. The steady murmuring of a familiar voice seemed to reach from a far away place, though he couldn't make out the words. Something wet touched his lips and then cool water was trickling into his mouth. The first sips made him crave more, he swallowed greedily until he finally realized he was being told to slow down.

“H'vey?” Mike slurred, fighting the pull back into his dreams.

“Yea, Mike. I'm right here. We need to get you up and to the car. Think you can try to stand up now?”

Mike nodded, allowing himself to be guided upright. He smiled contentedly when a pair of sunglasses appeared on his face. Swooning, he leaned into Harvey's chest. Frustrated to be gently pushed away.

“Hold on kid, I need you to walk with me. You can lie down again in the car.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Mike said with unmasked adoration.

They made it down the elevator, though just barely. There was a close call where Donna had to convince Louis that Mike had twisted his ankle while rescuing a kitten trapped on a fire escape. A story he found so touching that he bypassed all critical thinking and went straight to planning the perfect gift basket for a 'Defender of Nature's Most Majestic Creature.” Donna responded with appropriate gravity, promising to relay his heartfelt gratitude on behalf of the feline species.

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By the time that Ray pulled up to Harvey's building, Mike was breathing deeply, his head resting on Harvey's lap. Without concern for nosy bystanders, this time Harvey elected to lift the boy into his arms and carry him into his condo. He propped Mike up in his recliner and soon confirmed his suspicions.

“Mike? Look at me Mike. Good boy, now tell me the last time you took your new medication.”

“Last night, I think.”

“When did you first start taking it?”

“I...it was last week. I'm sorry, I miss Grammy so much and...” Mike broke off into a sob, shoulders shuddering.

“Shh. I know you miss her.” Harvey squatted down to eye level, grasping the back of Mike's neck and rubbing his thumb just below his ear. “A doctor told you those pills would help?”

“He said they were safe. What's the point? It hasn't even worked yet. I took a double dose last night and still nothing's changed.”

“Where are these pills now Mike?”

“In my desk.” Mike sighed, losing interest in the conversation. He was leaning into Harvey's touch, near purring with pleasure.

“Good. Now, you're going to take a shower and get some more rest while I work. Come on.” He took Mike's hand and hoisted him up, nudging the tipsy young man toward the bathroom. Harvey turned on the shower and helped Mike strip, instructing him to wash up. A minute went by without a sign of action from the kid, so he soaped up a loofah and placed it in Mike's hand. When still nothing happened, Harvey accepted the inevitability of the situation and stripped to join Mike in the shower.

He washed the boy as quickly as he could, avoiding the frequent attempts to rub against him. Harvey tried to avoid Mike's growing arousal, impeded by his own desire. Stepping out, he rinsed Mike off and wrapped him in a towel. He dressed the dazed boy in a pair of boxers and an old t-shirt, then brought him to bed, shutting the guest room door softly behind him.

Ten minutes later the door opened and Mike came crawling...crawling...out to Harvey. When he spoke it was nearer to moaning, “Please Harvey, don't you want me? Let me suck your cock, I can make it soo good.”

Harvey caught Mike's hands as they reached for his groin. “Oh puppy, I can't let you do that. You don't know what you're saying right now.”

“I do know, please let me show you.” Mike literally begged, straining to bring his mouth closer.

“Mike, stop that now. Put your hands behind your back.” It was a clear command that Mike instantly obeyed.

“Better. Now stay right there, don't move.” Harvey ordered. When Mike only nodded, Harvey prompted, “Yes, sir.”

Mike's voice had grown husky when replied, “Yes sir.”

Harvey returned, stepping behind Mike and attaching a padded leather cuff to each wrist. “Does that feel okay? Not too tight?”

“No sir.”

“Stand up.” Harvey supported Mike while he stood. Then he pulled Mike's boxers down and saw he had a problem. There was no way that he could put on a cock cage with Mike fully erect. He told the boy to stay and grabbed some ice from the freezer. “Be a good boy for me, this part won't be much fun.” He applied the ice cubes to Mike's balls, eliciting a squeal and causing his erection to quickly wilt. Harvey expertly caged the flaccid cock and watched as it started trying to swell again. The plan was to keep his associate feeling secure, pacifying his submissive craving without taking advantage of his vulnerability. As he laid the boy back in the guest bed, the restraints appeared to be working, although all of this was doing little to alleviate Harvey's burning hunger to dominate him.

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Chapter Text

Harvey threw himself into his work, unaware of the passage of time until Donna showed up just after 2pm with a box in her hands. A paper shopping bag resting on top of the box blocked her vision. She let herself in and dropped the filing box on the counter, lifting the lid to take out a pill bottle. She tossed the bottle to Harvey, then started filling him in while simultaneously unpacking the shopping bag. “That associate who thinks he's Don Draper is doing a shockingly adequate job of researching the Harvard Professor. I told him to call as soon as he was done. Louis is commissioning a stuffed kitten wearing a shirt that says 'You got Litt Up!' and says, 'Mike, you're my hero.' when you squeeze its paw.”

Harvey laughed, “Oh, poor Mike. At least Louis didn't get him tickets to see Cats! on Broadway.”

Donna raised an eyebrow. Harvey stifled his laughter, “He didn't. He couldn't...haven't they been off Broadway for years?”

“He did, and he can; there's been a revival. Haven't you noticed that he's been humming 'Memories' for the last month?” Donna mused.

“I make a point of not noticing what Louis does.”

“Good point. Anyway, Lola is in Cancun and promised to reach you from an untraceable line sometime in the next 24 hours. Mike's' doctor clammed up at first, but eventually admitted to prescribing something called Subpromax after his first visit with Mike. He claimed it was for the treatment of moderate depression and insomnia. I asked if that was an off-label use, and he refused to comment after that. Sadly I had to leave early because my dear Uncle Lester is a hemophiliac and was bitten by a dog on his mail delivery route.” She smiled at her own genius. “Now, how's Mike?”

“He's asleep in there.” Harvey pointed to the guest room. Then glanced back at Donna, taking a thoughtful beat before asking, “Did you realize he was submissive? See any signs.”

“You mean the puppy dog eyes he gives you when he thinks no one notices? Or the fact that he recently had a tea party with a woman's porcelain dolls just to rescue a deal?” She shrugged, “It was between a crush or a submissive streak, but he's so willing to talk back to you that I could never make up my mind.”

“Fair enough.” He twisted the pill bottle around in his hand, absently sipping a glass of water with his free hand. “What a mess. You've been a pain in the ass since the day I hired you, kid.”

Donna came to sit on the opposite end of the couch. “Look, Harvey, you should know...nobody can say what'll happens when he comes off of this stuff. It was never developed with that in mind, because it was supposed to be restricted to dying patients. Some say it works like an opiate, but it also contains an unidentified synthetic hormone 'subdogine.'”

Harvey cut in, “So you're saying it's risky, not to mention unethical, to keep him on it, and risky to take him off.”

“Exactly.” Donna watched with worried, hopeful eyes trained on Harvey as he picked up a baseball and went through a series of grips with expertise.

“Here's what you're gonna do. Call that doctor I always use for the CEO of Donaldson Analytics when he goes on a bender. Get him to make a house call, set him up in The Plaza if he doesn't argue with you, but if you have to twist his arm, make it The Four Seasons if you have to twist his arm. Either way, tell them to replace all the alcohol in the minibar with soda and water.”

“Done. Also, Ray sent this CD up for you, it's the Goat Rodeo Sessions. He said to tell you that he was saving it for a major clusterfuck and figured today was the day.” Donna slipped the disk into the stereo system and pressed play. “I'll be back soon.”

At 8pm a delivery of his favorite Thai food arrived at Harvey's front door. He checked in on Mike, who was still fast asleep. By 11 he was concerned enough to check that Mike could actually still wake up, and was partially satisfied with the garbled syllables that he was able to elicit after much coaxing. A text confirmed Dr. Carter was booked on a charter flight that would be arriving at 4am. Then he did something that he very rarely ever did and laid down on the couch to catch a few hours of sleep.

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Mike was woken by a splitting headache, he rolled over to grab his phone and check the time. When it wasn't on his nightstand, he pushed himself into a halfway seated position, fighting back a wave of nausea. He slowly tried opening his eyes a second time, panicking when he didn't recognize the view. His apartment windows all looked out to the brick walls of the building 8 feet away. This place must have been taller than his building, the bedspread was soft, and there was the unmistakable soft humming of central air. He stood slowly, the cool air hitting his bare skin...then he jolted into full awareness. There was something attached to his cock, something metal and locked. Holy fuck, he had cuffs on his wrists, thankfully not linked together, but still fastened tightly and completely locked on.

Slowly he searched the drawers for a key or maybe something to pick a lock. He didn't find a thing, although since there was no Gideons Bible, he could probably eliminate the theory that he'd been dumped in a hotel room. The en-suite bathroom had a bare medicine cupboard, some towels, a bar of soap and an extra roll of toilet paper. Mike had to pee desperately, but wasn't sure it was even possible wearing this thing. He'd read a ton of erotic fiction, some where guys wore cock cages 24/7, but you never knew how much of that stuff was true, and he was too afraid to try to go. His next idea was to lather himself up really well with soap and then slip the device off, but that quickly failed when he realized that part of it was wrapped around his balls.

Back out in the bedroom, Mike tried to open the windows. Neither moved an inch, so that option was out. Even if he had something to break the window with, then he'd be left to scale from an unknown height while wearing nothing but a cock cage and some cuffs. He bumped his shin against the bed and had to crab one of the posts for support. A plan formulated, it was a crappy one, but better than nothing.

Harvey was dozing in a half-aware state when he heard footsteps on the wood floor. He pinched his eyes and sat up, expecting to see a confused, needy Mike. Instead, the kid rushed at him with a shout a lot like, “You fucker!” He had one arm raised, brandishing what appeared to be one of the oak decorations that were meant to go atop the bedposts in the guest room. Mike swung out toward Harvey's face, but the older man's fight training gave him an unsurmountable advantage. When his next swing also missed, Mike tried to push Harvey backward, but the man stepped out of the way and Mike went tumbling down. He felt hands grasp on to either side of his waist, stopping him from hitting his head on the coffee table. Mike thrashed and twisted, cursing a blue streak and trying to scratch Harvey's arms. He felt momentarily victorious as Harvey released him, but a split second later there was a hand holding each wrist cuff, and his arms were forced to his sides and crossed, so each hand was pulled against the opposite hip. He continued kicking and flailing until he finally managed to head butt Harvey in the collarbone, sending a terrible lighting bolt through his brain without so much as causing the other man to loosen his grip. As Mike crumpled Harvey helped him to slowly sit on the floor, keeping hold of the cuffs and crossing his legs over each of the younger man's; a position which he knew he could hold for a long time.

Harvey kept repeating, “You're okay Mike,” while catching his breath. He waited until he felt Mike's breathing slow and his struggling to subside. “Not feeling very submissive anymore I take it.”

Mike jerked his limbs, putting up a good effort for maybe 30 seconds before calming again. “I'm not a sub, I'm undesignated! Did you fucking roofie me? Every fucking Dom thinks he can turn me, but I never thought you'd try this on me you prick! I'll scream rape if you don't let me go. Let me the fuck out!”

“Mike,” Harvey started in an irritatingly even tone, “If you were going to scream, you already would have. Now think this through logically, what's the last thing you remember?”

“Let me go and maybe I'll tell you.” Mike said, putting up a slightly less powerful struggle than the previous one.

“That's not how it works. We're gonna stay like this until I'm convinced you're safe. What's the last thing you remember?” Harvey sounded too calm to be bluffing.

“I was at my desk, then I...woke up here. What did you do to me? Oh fuck Harvey, don't do this to me, please.”

“Mike, you're safe. I swear I didn't touch you, I would never touch someone without their permission. The restraints were meant to help, you were acting very strange. Do you see that pill bottle over there? Remember taking any of those?” Harvey's voice was gentle.

“Yeah.” Mike choked out.

“Any idea how many you've taken so far?”

“Uh...I lost track; 5 maybe, or 6.” Mike's head felt foggy and stabbing tendrils of pain shot through it at random.

“It's not like you to lose track kid, and unless someone else has touched that bottle, you've taken 12 pills because that's how many are missing. I think they were what was making you act so submissively.”

Mike started up his twisting and struggling again. “I don't get submissive, ever!”

“Come on, cut the bullshit. This is me, I admit you hid it well for a while, but in hindsight I can see the signs clearly. I'm not mad at you for hiding it. I won't tell anyone, but I'm not letting you lie to me.” Harvey felt Mike take a breath as if to continue fighting, but the boy gave up, letting his head drop.

“Harvey, my head is killing me.”

“Well, if you don't fight me then I'll get you some aspirin for it.”

“Take this thing off my dick and I won't fight you.”

“So you're good with the cuffs then?”

“Oh fuck you very much Harvey, you know what I meant. I can't think with this raging headache.”

“I'm going to let go and help you to the couch, where you will stay firmly planted while I get you some aspirin and water, understood?”

“Fine.” Mike sighed with defeat.

Harvey did as he promised and then poured Mike a cold glass of water from the fridge and two aspirin tablets from the cabinet. When he turned back around Mike was already nodding off. “Hey, not so fast, take this first.” Harvey held the aspirin tabs out and watched Mike put them on the back of his tongue with the disjointed movements of the somnolent. Then he cupped one hand under Mike's chin while tipping the water glass to carefully pour a few sips into the young man's mouth. “It's 2:30 now, there should be a doctor coming soon.”

Mike merely grunted an unintelligible reply before curling up into a softly snoring ball.

Chapter Text

Harvey was stroking his fingers through Mike's hair when Ray sent a text saying that he was dropping the doctor off at the entrance to the building. He replied with his thanks, promising to pay him back tenfold. Then he used the security app on his phone to buzz the doctor in. Reluctantly he stood, softly shushing Mike as he sighed and shifted.

A tall, thin man appeared at the door, looking travel worn with a black and green duffel bag hanging off one shoulder. A leather arm band was visible below the sleeve of his shirt, wrapped around his left bicep, indicating that he was a fully bonded submissive. Harvey reached out a hand to take the doctor's bag, the sub blushed and and looked away when they made eye contact.

“Do you need me to contact your Dom for you?” Harvey offered in a relaxed tone to put the man at ease.

“Yes. I have to let you search my bag too.”

Harvey led the doctor the kitchen, setting the bag on the kitchen bar. “Take a seat. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

The doctor obeyed, stretching his arms and taking a deep breath. “How about a rum and coke?”

“How about water.” Harvey said. It clearly wasn't a question as he handed the visiting sub a bottle of water. He pulled the duffel bag over and opened it. “Tell me what you need in here so you can get started.”

“Stethoscope, thermometer, blood pressure cuff, and pen light to start please.”

Harvey selected the items and handed them to the doctor. “Dial your Dom for me. I'll talk to him before we get started. Your first name is John, yes?” he asked, accepting the cell phone.

“Yes sir, and my Dom's name is Peter.”

Harvey took the phone and pressed the call button. “Hello Peter? This is Harvey Specter, I'm here with John...Yes, he told me that...Good, I'll have him give you a call as soon as he's finished.”

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Mike felt something on his forehead and brushed it away. He sat up, sniffing and taking a deep breath he squinted at the face in front of him. “Harvey? What are you doing here?”

“I live here, kid. You don't remember?”

“No. I...I'm cold. It's freezing in here.” Mike wiped the back of his neck and looked at his hand in confusion. “And sweaty.”

“Mike, you're having a strong reaction to some medicine you took. There's a doctor here to take a look at you.”

Mike was too woozy and tired to argue. When the doctor told him to take a deep breath, stethoscope pressed to his chest, Mike felt an irresistible urge to look to Harvey for approval. Something inside of him calmed at Harvey's nod and reassuring smile.

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Harvey left the doctor to call his Dom again, taking a moment to wipe Mike's face and neck with a cool washcloth and get him changed into a pair of boxers before settling him into bed.

“What can you do for him, John?” Harvey asked as he settled on the couch. The doctor shifted from foot to foot, glancing from the opposite, smaller couch and the floor. “The top of the ottoman comes off. You'll find a cushion inside if you prefer the floor.”

The doctor didn't hesitate for a second, retrieving the cushion and taking a seat a few feet from Harvey. “Thank you sir.” He took a deep breath, calming visibly, and continued. “You have to understand, we're working with an unpredictable process. The only available information I can gather is from incredibly biased sources. It's safe to assume that it does indeed contain an opiate and synthetic hormone or hormonal stimulant.”

Harvey held up a hand, “While I appreciate your thorough explanation, could you start with the most pertinent information and give me all the details later?”

Dr. Carter opened his mouth, eyes flashing with defiance, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry sir, I'm accustomed to reporting to other medical professionals.”

“You're doing fine. Your Dom warned me that you would struggle being around such a drug, given your...history. No, don't go looking ashamed, winners don't dwell on their mistakes, they build on their accomplishments. Start with telling me how to help Mike.”

“Right. Well, this is a combined drug, so we're going to improvise a combined treatment protocol. After taking these pills for a week, I expect he'll experience mild withdrawal symptoms; agitation, anxiety, and upset stomach. We could have weaned him off, but that's not possible with the additional hormone component. For that, there will be a rebound reaction; headache and nausea at first, followed by defiance and aggression.” The sub cleared his throat, discomfited by the mere mention of such behavior in front of Harvey.

“So, this won't be like subdrop?”

“No, but you'll need to treat it in much the same way.”

“God damn it!” Harvey took his glass and threw it at his fireplace where it exploded into shards. Regaining his composure, he turned to the sub still kneeling on the floor, face flushed and breathing heavily. “Fuck, I'm sorry, that was out of line. It's just, he's been masquerading as an undesignated for years. I've dommed him enough to make keep his symptoms bearable, but what you're recommending would be totally nonconsensual. I will not betray Mike.”

“Sir, I'm not going to pretend to know how you feel, but I have a very good idea of what that kid is about to go through. And I'm a really good doctor, I can medically treat his symptoms, I can only recommend the best course of action. I understand your hesitations, but if he is not heavily dominated, it will be utter torture.” The doctor's eyes were serious, pleading, glinting with conviction.

“I'll consider your advice.” Harvey reached a hand down and grasped the doctor's hand, helping him stand. “Thanks for your help. I'll call you tomorrow.” He walked the sub to the door and had nearly finished closing it when a hand reached out to hold it open.

“I've treated hundreds, probably more than a thousand people come through one of the nations highest ranked ER. I've taken beatings, been stabbed, become an addict, fought my submissive nature tooth and nail. So believe me when I say, if it were me, I'd be desperate for my Dom's help no matter how much barking or biting I did. But I'm not Mike.”

“No. You're not.” With that Harvey shut the door.

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Harvey tackled the simplest problem first, keeping the medication out of Mike's reach incase the withdrawal made him desperate for more. He thought about dumping the pills, but he wanted to preserve them for evidence, so instead he put them in his bedroom safe. He laid down and closed his eyes to think through his options. The first question was whether Mike would present a danger to himself if permitted to go off on his own before he'd fully withdrawn from the pills. No, that was the wrong perspective; the real question was whether Mike would be able to keep himself safe without protection. As he saw it, there was no way that an inexperienced sub could do that while suffering from all the symptoms that the doctor had detailed. So he'd have to regularly assess Mike's ability for self-preservation, simple enough.

Damn, this was exactly why every sub should have a designated Dom, even they elected to legally remain undesignated. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Mike would do something so reckless. The upside was that Harvey was his lawyer and had the authority to make health related decisions. It made him sick to think that he'd have to forcefully push Mike to submit to him. He wouldn't have considered doing it, except that the sub would arguably be experiencing an altered state of mind while coming off of the pills, therefore unable to judge his own needs. It was a gray area, Harvey would have to go with his gut. He'd also have to get himself off if he wanted to retain his self control when Mike came around.

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“I told you I'm not hungry.” Mike grumbled for the third time in ten minutes from where he knelt beside Harvey.

“If you want to take the pain killers, you have to eat something.” Harvey held a piece of warm pancake at Mike's lips. He waited longer this time, sensing the sub's resolve waning. Sure enough, Mike hesitantly opened his mouth and took the food, chewing slowly. After a few bites his stomach started to settle. Mike felt the urge to lean against Harvey's legs but resisted, the last thing he needed was to encourage his inner submissive after all these years of fighting it.

“Mike, quit fidgeting. You'll feel better if you just let go.” Harvey put a hand on the back of Mike's neck and gently squeezed.

Mike bristled, “I know you think you're helping, but maybe don't be so anal.” With that, he tried to shrug the hand off his neck. The move backfired. Harvey grabbed Mike's hair and pulled his head back. Mike could see the fire in his eyes, though strangely he wasn't afraid despite having seen Harvey take on much larger men than he.

“Michael, let me be clear, this is not a discussion. Your skin is clammy, you're already sweating, fidgeting, and pulling an attitude. The more you struggle, the worse that this withdrawal will be for you. That you've been lying to yourself about your orientation was your own business, but now it's mine. Don't start lying to me kid, it won't end well.” He waited for Mike to drop his scowl, then released the grasp of his hair, and handed him some tylenol and a glass of water. “The doctor is coming back around noontime. Until then, I need you to work on filling in the missing pieces for this case.”

Chapter Text

Mike was marking up a particularly tedious set of files when he became aware that Harvey had stopped typing. The back of his neck tingled, he knew he was being stared at, judged, and pitied. Screw Harvey! He didn’t need any of this, it was nothing that couldn’t have been solved by a few days spent with some quality pot. He still had a stash hidden away in a Wheaties box at home. How hard would it be to create some small distraction and sneak away?

“What’s on your mind, kid?” Harvey squeezed Mike’s neck, the skin was cold and clammy.

“Nothing! Jesus, what’s your problem?” The kid tried to smack Harvey’s hand away, standing and spinning around to face him. He took a deep breath to tear into the asshole when a lump caught in his stomach. There was no time to think as he turned and bolted for the bathroom. He ran straight to the toilet, knees slamming into the hard tile, his torso lurched forward as he lost the meager contents of his stomach. He barely had a chance to take a breath before the next wave hit. In the periphery of his vision he recognized Harvey’s form and wasted some of his next precious breath trying to urge the man to go away. All that he could muster was a weakly uttered, “out.”

“I’ve got you, Mike. This will pass.” Harvey attempted to sound soothing, but the words rang hollow even in his own ears. The truth was that the boy looked so green it was hard to imagine how he hadn’t already passed out. It hurt to just to watch.

When it seemed safe, Harvey lifted Mike to his feet. The young man swayed like a drunken sailor as his boss positioned him against the sink. “Let’s get you washed up.”

For all the fire burning inside, Mike could not bring himself to put up a struggle. He wanted to shout that he didn’t need help when Harvey wiped his face clean with a cool washcloth. The next moment he had to stop himself from retching again as the Dom placed a cup of mouthwash to his lips, and nearly groaned with relief when the doorbell rang before he could be subjected to any more indignities. He let Harvey lower him to the floor and leaned his cheek against the cold tile wall as soon as the door clicked shut.

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“Thank Christ, what took you so long?” Harvey barked at the doctor standing in his doorway.

John Carter checked his watch with wide eyed horror at the reprimand, but eyebrows twisted in confusion when his gaze returned to back to the angry Dom. “I’m...ah...early Sir?”

“Well, it’s been a long morning. He started throwing up about 15 minutes ago, but it was mostly dry heaves since he’s had a negligible amount to eat or drink today.” Harvey replied, withholding apologies for his terse welcome. “Come on, I don’t want to leave him alone in the bathroom for long.”

Mike couldn’t be bothered to move a muscle when Harvey returned with the doctor in tow. He stared up at them through half-lidded eyes. “Please leave me alone.” he whispered.

“Kid, I’m not exactly having the time of my life here. Do you honestly think I want to see you suffering?” He didn’t give Mike a chance to reply, instead turning his attention to the doctor. “What’s going on with him? One second he wants to kill me, then he’s on the floor looking like this.”

“I’m still right here you know.” Mike glared at the towering men.

“I know you are, I’m going to try to take the edge off some of your symptoms.” John crouched down and studied his patient’s pulse, respiration, and pupil reactivity. Satisfied, he engaged in murmured consultation with Harvey before administering an IV. “This just some saline to help rehydrate you, and this,” he nodded to the syringe he was filling from a small vial, “is just a strong antiemetic. I’ll stick around to assess your condition over the next couple of hours, if that’s okay with your Dom.” John winced as the last word slipped off of his tongue.

“He.” Mike aimed a finger of accusation at Harvey, “is not my Dom.”

“Sir I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” The doctor bowed his head toward Harvey, whose jaw was clenching.

“There’s nothing to apologize for John,you’re excused. Please find a cushion and make yourself comfortable in the living room.” Harvey stepped aside and waited until he was alone with Mike before stepping directly in front of the defiantly glaring sub. “These are the facts boy. I am a Dom, and you are a mess. Your hormones are out of control, your body is coming off of an opiate, and you have lost the ability to suppress your submissive needs. Don’t go giving me that look, they are needs, not wants. That’s what I was forgetting. I’ve been concerned with the issue of consent, and I still won’t cross that line sexually, but you lack the clarity of mind to care for yourself in this situation. As of this moment, I’m fully exercising my right to protect you. You will follow my rules, and if you don’t, there will be consequences. The first rule being that you do what I tell you, when I tell you. The more obedient and responsible you prove yourself to be, the sooner you’ll regain some decision making privileges. Now, I’m going to pick you up, carry you to the couch, where you will lie down and rest with your head in my lap.”

The sub furrowed his brow, and opened his mouth to speak when one look from the Dom made the boy immediately press his lips closed again. When Harvey rewarded him with a “good boy,” Mike felt the tension drain from his aching limbs.

Chapter Text

“Harvey this is stupid.” Mike whined with his head in the older man’s lap.

“We’re past the point of debating. I’ve made up my mind and it will hardly kill you to lie still until the medicine has had time to work.” Harvey trailed his fingers along Mike’s neck. He could feel the boy’s muscles start to relax, but much like a student struggling to stay awake during an interminable lecture, Mike would jerk back to his tightly wound state as soon as he began to drift. Was there ever a time when Harvey had witnessed a submissive actively claw their way out of subspace even once? Any Dom who was worth a grain of salt knew that subspace was like daylight, technically a submissive could live without it, but it would take a great toll on their physical and mental health. Deprivation inevitably led to a state of desperation, which would all too often result in recklessly impulsive decisions. Just the thought of Mike falling prey to the first Dom to catch a whiff of the boy’s vulnerability made Harvey reflexively pull him closer.

Several minutes of silence passed when Mike took a deep breath, steeling himself, and asking, “Harvey?”

“Hmm?”

“What if I’m never the same? I don’t want to lose myself.” Mike turned his face into Harvey’s thigh to hide the tears that prickled in his eyes.

“Have you considered that burying a part of yourself might be limiting you rather than setting you free?”

“It’s not fair. I’m smarter than all the dominant associates at work. I’ll just be treated like some mindless doormat when they hear about this.”

From his spot in the corner, John couldn’t help but smirk.

“What’s so funny?” Mike snapped. He was rewarded with a sharp smack on the ass. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“Don’t be rude Michael.” Harvey chided.

The doctor sipped at his glass of water and put down the medical journal he’d been browsing. “You remind me of what I was like about 10 years ago. I was sure that I had everything under control. Working 80 hours on a slow week, insisting that I could do it all on my own, that was my norm. Then one day I started spiraling out of control, and each time my current Dom, Peter, tried to help, I would lash out. Nobody was going to make me be something that I didn’t want to be. When I couldn’t handle it anymore, I started stealing suppressants.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if the very thought of his younger self was giving him a headache. “It got so bad that Peter staged an intervention, and you know how I thanked him? I punched him square in the jaw. I wanted him to hit me back so that I could prove I wasn’t weak.”
“Did he...hit you?” Mike tried to mask the horror in his voice. Something about attacking someone who was only trying to help, especially a Dom, made him feel queasy. He chose not to entertain the thought that he was behaving much the same way toward Harvey.

John shook his head. “Nope, he pulled me into his arms and held me while I broke down. Then he helped me pull myself together and he promised to teach me to come to terms with the reality of my needs.”

“Well, I’m glad it worked out for you, but I’ll be just fine on my own as soon as this crap is out of my system.”

John shrugged, “If you say so.”

* *
Not long after Mike had been rehydrated with a liter of saline, he began to fidget. A desperate need to use the bathroom was creating an unpleasant dilemma; get up without permission and risk an embarrassing reprimand from Harvey, or act like a submissive and ask for permission to get up. Neither option was appealing, but the decision was taken out of his hands.

“Any chance you need to drain your bladder, kid?” asked Harvey.

An irrational surge of annoyance struck Mike. His nerves felt raw, he wanted to tear is hair out and stomp his feet. It was childish, he could recognize that much, but it couldn’t be helped. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to restrain the acidity in his voice, “Sure, why not?” He pulled himself upright and started to stand up.

Harvey caught hold of Mike’s shoulder and held him back. “Take it easy. Sit a moment and make sure you’re not too dizzy first.”

“I’m fine!” As Mike tried to twist out of Harvey’s grasp he was aware of just how weak he felt. After a moment of panic in which he was convinced that all this enforced submission was causing him to grow physically weaker, it occurred to him that he’d barely eaten in the past couple of days and he’d thrown most of it up. Right, just low blood sugar, he could handle that. Rather than waste more energy fighting, Mike allowed Harvey to help him to his feet, and swallowed his pride when the man insisted on keeping an arm around his shoulder all the way to the bathroom.

Harvey pulled something out of his pocket, tearing off a foil wrapper to reveal a thin white stick that looked a whole heck of a lot like a pregnancy test. Hold this under your stream for a few seconds and then leave it next to the sink please.

“You know Harv, you could take this thing off me now. Trust me, I have no intention of trying to get in your pants.” Mike gestured to the cage that remained beneath his borrowed flannel pajama bottoms.

Harvey wasn’t sure if Mike recalled just how recently he had been desperately trying to do just that, but he chose to play it off, “You already are in my pants Mike.” He turned and closed the door.

Mike stared at the stick that was turning a strange shade of purple with a darkening black “S” symbol in the center. He took a closer look at the label, which read, “OneLife Rapid Home Hormone Test.” Well shit, he was betting that the “S” did not stand for “surely not submissive.” The last thing Mike needed was more evidence for Harvey to build his case for being so overprotective.

* *