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Mike sighed, then raised his hand to rap on the door three times in quick succession. He scrubbed at his eyes as he waited for the door to open.
“Wow, I really should move.”
Mike removed his hand from his face to look at Harvey. Harvey sported a black t-shirt, dark grey sweatpants, and his signature smirk, the skin around his eyes crinkling slightly. His hair was damp, and Mike wondered if he just got out of the shower. “Come on, man,” Mike protested.
Harvey sobered. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Mike stressed. “Can I come in?”
Harvey moved aside, and Mike walked into Harvey’s flat. Mike sat heavily on Harvey’s couch and Harvey leaned against his counter. “Past your bedtime, isn’t it?”
“I’m an adult, I don’t have a bedtime,” Mike groused.
“And yet here you are complaining like a kid. So what’s wrong?”
“I’m just…” Mike sighed. He already felt bad enough barging in on Harvey in the middle of the night; how could he also burden him with his problems, too? “I’m just stressed about the trial tomorrow.” He looked at Harvey and raised his eyebrows, silently challenging Harvey to tease him about his stupid, childish worries.
“What are you worried about?”
Mike looked at Harvey in surprise before answering. “I don’t know. What if I screw this one up, like I did in housing court?”
“I don’t think you slept last night,” Harvey said.
Mike glowered at him. “I’m already worried enough about this trial. I don’t need you questioning my sleeping habits, too.”
Harvey sighed. He walked over to the couch and sat next to Mike. Mike resolutely did not think about how hot Harvey looked in sweatpants. “You didn’t sleep last night because you were working on this case. Yes, you had a past failure, and you should be cautious. The housing trial was an error on your part. But an error doesn’t become a mistake until you refuse to correct it. And guess what? You’ve prepared for this trial. You’re correcting your error.”
Mike stared at Harvey, one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t think you were a Star Wars guy. Or a book guy, for that matter.”
Harvey shrugged. “I’m versatile. You get my point, though, right?”
“Uh, I got hung up when you started quoting Thrawn,” Mike grinned. The smile faded from his face as the thought of the trial returned to his mind. “But yes, I do get what you’re saying. You really think I’m ready for this trial?”
“Oh, you’re fishing for compliments now.”
“Wh—no!”
Harvey smiled at Mike, and Mike felt himself melt a little. “I know you like attention, but fair warning, compliments do not come more freely when I’m about to go to bed.”
“Oh, sh—you were about to go to bed? Sorry, I—” Well, now Mike felt even more bad about showing up at Harvey’s place unannounced.
“Mike,” Harvey said, his tone firm but gentle. “It’s fine. Calm down.”
Mike exhaled slowly. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry. I guess I better go home.”
“Stay here,” Harvey suggested suddenly. Mike could have sworn something vulnerable had flashed in Harvey’s eyes, but he dismissed it. Harvey wasn’t vulnerable; it just wasn’t who he was.
“Hahaha,” Mike said, because he was having a hard time imagining that phrase in any non-dirty context.
Harvey ran a hand through his hair (the gel was washed out, Mike noticed, the realization causing heat to rush to his face). “You’ve got your trial tomorrow. Knowing you, you rode your bike here from Brooklyn—”
Mike said nothing, but he knew his silence confirmed it.
“—so just stay here tonight. I’ll sleep on my couch. You can take my bed.”
Mike opened his mouth to protest. “Well, I—”
“Just stay here. You need sleep.”
“If I didn’t know you any better, I’d think you cared about me,” Mike joked. “But I’m not going to take your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Harvey shook his head. “This couch is comfortable now, but trust me, you won’t feel that way when you wake up with a crick in your neck. My bed is big enough for both of us, if you really insist on me not sleeping on the couch.”
If Mike was flushed before, he was certain he was even redder now. No way was he about to sleep in the same bed as his crush—boss. “Oh, you know what? I just realized I’m still wearing a suit, can’t sleep in that; I better go home, hahaha…”
Harvey leveled him with a stare. “You can borrow some of my clothes.”
Mike wondered if this was what it felt like to be on the other side of lawyer-Harvey. “Okay,” he agreed. “Do you have a toothbrush or something I can use?”
Harvey rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Let’s not go that far.”
Mike grinned.
*****
15 minutes later, Mike was dressed in a slightly-too-big t-shirt and slightly-too-big sweatpants. Harvey had tossed them at Mike, ordering him to get changed in the bathroom. Mike, embarrassingly, had spent a full five minutes just looking at all the products Harvey had sitting on the sink. He then realized he was probably being creepy and rushed to change.
Mike emerged from the bathroom and crossed the hall to Harvey’s bedroom. It was very minimalist, the only sign of color an abstract painting above the bed. “Nice bedroom,” he called.
Harvey’s dry tone answered from the kitchen. “Glad to know it has your approval.”
“It’s no Ritz, but I’ll take it,” Mike responded.
Harvey walked through the doorway, smirking. “You’d better, or you’re sleeping on the couch.”
Mike shrugged. “I offered to do that in the first place. You refused.”
“The thread count on these sheets is higher than your salary; how dare you?”
“Easily,” Mike said with a grin. He might not know what constituted a good thread count, but he knew his salary was respectable for an associate in downtown Manhattan.
Harvey climbed into the bed, rolling his eyes. “Alright, that’s enough foreplay. You have a trial tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.”
Mike felt his face flush at the innuendo but flopped into bed on the opposite side as Harvey. He crawled under the duvet and Harvey reached over to the bedside table to click off the lamp. Soon, they were immersed in darkness.
“I feel like we should talk about girls or something,” Mike whispered, despite not wanting to think about girls at all.
Harvey huffed a laugh. “What are you, twelve? This isn’t a sleepover,” Harvey ribbed, but his voice was a lower volume than normal, so Mike guessed he bought into the sanctity of sleepovers at least a little bit.
“It kind of is a sleepover, but okay,” Mike muttered. “Good night, Harvey.”
The sheets rustled as Harvey adjusted his position. “Good night, Mike.”
Mike hoped he wasn’t imagining the fondness in Harvey’s voice.
*****
When Mike woke up, he did his best to ignore the alarm clock that was beeping loudly. He was comfortable and warm and he decidedly did not want to get up.
“Mike,” a soft voice said.
“Five more minutes,” Mike grumbled. He buried his face deeper into the warmth next to him.
“Trial today, remember?” the voice said. Now that Mike thought about it, the voice sounded very familiar, but his mind couldn’t quite parse it…
…And then he remembered showing up at Harvey’s place and Harvey inviting him to spend the night. His eyes shot open and he jolted backwards. Horrified, Mike realized that he had been sprawled out over Harvey, one arm slung over the other man’s chest and head tucked into the crook of Harvey’s neck. His dismay only grew when he saw a wet spot where his mouth had been resting a moment prior. “Harvey, I am so sorry—” Mike began, eyes wide.
Harvey squinted at him blearily. “Can you get the alarm?”
Mike reached over Harvey and turned the beeping off. He quickly retreated back to his former position, then sighed, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. You invite me into your bed, and then I drool on you.”
“Can’t have a puppy without a little drool,” Harvey smirked, propping himself up to look at Mike.
“Harvey…” Mike complained. He was sure his face was bright red. It didn’t help that he had just realized that Harvey’s hand had been entangled in his hair only a minute ago.
Harvey’s smile widened and he sat up. “It’s fine, puppy. No harm done.”
Mike scowled at the moniker. Harvey swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Mike was left sitting in bed by himself, and he suddenly felt very cold, the warmth of Harvey’s side pressing against his thigh now gone.
Mike watched out of the corner of his eye as Harvey walked over to the closet. His staring became less than subtle when Harvey reached behind his back and tugged off his shirt. Reaching into the closet, Harvey pulled out a starched white button-down and slipped it on, deftly closing the buttons with practiced hands.
He tried not to think about how nice it was to wake up next to Harvey. Tomorrow, he would be in his own bed. Tomorrow—well, today, even—Harvey would just be his boss. Mike didn’t know what made Harvey ask him to stay the night, but it made him mourn what he knew he would never have: a romantic relationship with Harvey.
“So,” Harvey said when he finished buttoning his shirt, “are you ready for the trial today?”
Mike didn’t want to think about the trial. He wanted to think about Harvey and the horrendous combination of a button-down and sweatpants he was wearing right now. But he couldn’t say that, so he simply responded, “Yes. I think so.”
Harvey gave him a look, selecting a pair of navy blue dress pants from the closet. “You better be more than just thinking about being ready.”
“Okay, fine. I am ready.”
“Good. Half of winning is the confidence to get you there.”
Mike nodded and stared at Harvey. He wondered if Harvey would be bold enough to change in front of him.
Harvey jerked his head toward the door. “Get out of here. I have to change.”
Part relieved and part disappointed, Mike retreated to the living room. He would have time to swing by his flat if he wanted to shower and get a fresh suit, which he was glad about. Mike puttered around the living room, feeling too awkward to make himself at home and not awkward enough to leave without telling Harvey goodbye.
Last night was weird. Mike didn’t have to be a super-genius to know that. Harvey had never been all that touchy-feely. Inviting Mike into his bed seemed like a huge step up from…well, the way they were at work.
It was especially weird because of how Mike felt about Harvey. He thought back to the previous night, to the sound of Harvey’s steady breathing, and felt his face heat. He had to get over his boyish crush on his boss. It was definitely prohibited in the firm’s bylaws, not to mention the fact that there was no way that Harvey would ever be interested in him romantically, last night be damned.
Mike hovered awkwardly by the door when Harvey emerged a few minutes later from the bedroom, looking as dapper as ever. He finished tying his tie and smirked at Mike. “Still here, I see.”
“I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye,” Mike said, then mentally did a facepalm. “I mean, without saying thanks. For letting me stay over.”
Harvey took on a serious demeanor and moved closer to Mike. They were only standing about a foot apart now. “You may be a pain in my ass, but I want you to succeed. You’re a good goddamn associate. I mean it, Mike. You’re going to win that trial.”
Mike, who was apparently incapable of being serious, batted his eyelashes at Harvey. “Aww, you mean it? I’m blushing.” And, because he had no sense of self-preservation, he added, flirtatiously, “What’ll you give me if I win?”
So much for keeping his feelings secret. Mike wanted to run away and to never see Harvey again.
Harvey’s gaze turned dark. Heavy. He stepped closer to Mike and suddenly Mike’s heart was beating out of his chest. “I’ll give you anything you want,” Harvey said, his voice low.
Mike swallowed. He glanced, briefly, down to Harvey’s lips. It was only a moment, and after, he returned his gaze to Harvey’s eyes, cursing himself for his slip-up. He hoped Harvey didn’t notice. “Like…a raise…?” Mike asked, weakly. There was a definite inverse relationship between his ability to joke and how turned on he was. A very large part of him was begging him to kiss Harvey, and a much smaller part of his mind told him that this was a bad idea. He was struggling to rationalize why he shouldn’t kiss Harvey.
Harvey’s face was suddenly much closer to Mike’s. Mike could feel Harvey’s breath ghosting over his lips. “Is that really what you want?” Harvey said.
Mike licked his lips. “No,” he whispered.
“I need you to say it. Tell me you want what I want.”
“I want you to kiss me,” Mike said, finally, succumbing to the voice in his head that told him to give himself, entirely, to Harvey.
Harvey pushed Mike against the door, capturing his lips in a rough kiss. Their bodies were flush with each other. Sparks were going off in Mike’s mind, and he kissed Harvey back fervently. Harvey’s hands gripped Mike’s hips. Mike brought his arms up around Harvey’s neck. He surrendered himself completely to the kiss, to Harvey.
Abruptly, Harvey pulled back, and Mike regretted the loss of the warm body against him, of the lips pressing against his. He tried to regain his breath. “Wow,” he said, dumbly. “Can we do that again?”
Harvey straightened his blazer, looking much like his regular, professional self. Mike felt wrecked after just a couple minutes of kissing. “Sure,” Harvey said, “After you win the trial.”
Mike straightened, suddenly feeling much more sober. “Oh my God, the trial! I have to bike home and change—”
Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Smooth, loverboy. I already called Ray. He’s waiting outside and can put your bike in his trunk.”
Mike slipped his shoes on, which he had discarded by the door the previous night. He was feeling bold, so he suggested, “Kiss for luck?”
“Greedy,” Harvey said, but he pressed his lips to Mike’s in a chaste kiss. “Now get out of here. I don’t want to see you in that courtroom unless you’re dressed, showered, and shaved.”
Mike laughed as he went out the door, feeling giddy.
(Later, as Mike lay in Harvey’s bed for the second night in a row, Mike decided that showing up uninvited to Harvey’s apartment had worked out after all.)