Work Text:
“I said I fixed it,” Mike says, clutching the manila folder like it can shield him from Harvey's wrath.
“After you screwed it up,” Harvey snaps, stabbing the elevator button like it personally offended him. "That means it doesn't count."
“Okay, but if I didn't fix the thing I screwed up, it still wouldn't be fixed. The way I see it, you should be thanking me.”
“Let me get this straight, you want me to thank you for nearly tanking the meeting we’re now running late for? How would you like me to do that? A statue in your honor or will my undying gratitude suffice?"
"God, no. Nothing that serious. Just name your first born after me and we'll call it even," Mike suggests.
Harvey rolls his eyes as they step into the elevator. He immediately presses the button for the 23rd floor with practiced precision and the doors pull shut.
The elevator hums, rises maybe three feet, and then, with a horrible metallic clunk, it jerks to a dead stop. The lights flicker. The hum dies.
Silence.
Mike's eyes dart around. "Did you just--?"
"Don't," Harvey warns.
A long beat.
Harvey hits the ‘open door’ button. Nothing. He hits it again. Harder.
“Oh yeah, that should work. Just a little more force and I think you'll have it,” Mike says. “You're really making that panel your bitch.”
“If you say one more word,” Harvey mutters, “I will sue you and the manufacturer for psychological damage.”
Mike presses his lips together like he’s fighting a smile. He leans back against the wall, tapping his heel. “Soooo, how long do you think we’ll be in here?"
“If you keep it up, you won't be in here much longer at all."
"Wow, so sensitive."
Harvey glares at Mike and Mike makes a show of zipping his lips. Then, after exactly six seconds of silence; “Do you think Louis did this?”
Harvey turns his head just enough to glare. “You think Louis Litt sabotaged the elevator just to trap us?”
“I’m just saying… the timing’s suspicious. We had that meeting he wanted to crash. You said no. I get blamed for a nonexistent filing error. Now we’re conveniently stuck between floors. Sounds like motive and opportunity.”
“You sound like you watch too much Dateline.”
Mike shrugs. “And you sound like someone who’s scared of elevators.”
Harvey’s jaw tightens. “I’m not scared of elevators. I'm scared of being trapped in one with you for an extended amount of time."
“Wow. That's really hurtful."
Harvey crosses his arms. “Are you seriously this annoying all the time, or is this a special treat?”
“What can I say? I thrive under pressure.”
“You’re not under pressure, you’re causing it. There's a difference.”
Mike throws up his hands. “Fine. Let’s stand here in complete silence. That’ll make the time fly.”
“Good.”
"Great."
Another long beat.
Mike sighs dramatically and slides down the wall until he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. “I think I'm starting to suffocate, I'm feeling a little light-headed."
"Elevators aren't air-tight, you idiot," Harvey says, before jabbing the button a few more times. "You aren't going to suffocate."
"I meant emotionally suffocate. I knew elevators aren't air-tight. Pffft..who wouldn't know that?"
Harvey glances down at him. “You are seriously so--"
Mike doesn't let him finish. "Charming? Relatable? Ruggedly handsome?"
"Close. Insufferable."
Mike smiles, tilting his head up to meet Harvey’s gaze. “You know, it’s kinda cute how flustered you get in tight spaces.”
“I’m not flustered.”
“You undid your tie.”
“It was hot. Probably because you never stop talking."
Mike raises his hands like he's surrendering. It lasts about three seconds this time.
“Hey, why don’t we just call someone?”
Harvey turns his head. “What?”
“Like… with our phones?” Mike says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re not in the stone age.”
Harvey gives him a long, pointed look. “Why didn’t you suggest that from the start?”
Mike shrugs. “I forgot my phone back on your desk. And you didn’t ask.”
Harvey closes his eyes for a moment, like he's doing advanced breathing exercises to avoid committing a homicide. Then he digs into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone, hitting a button with a little too much force.
He waits.
“Yeah, this is Harvey Specter. I’m stuck in the elevator on the way up to twenty-three.”
He pauses, listening.
His jaw clenches.
“Uh-huh. How long?”
Another pause.
“They’re aware of the problem,” he says flatly, covering the receiver to glance at Mike. “And they’re working diligently to fix it.”
Mike grins. “That sounds promising.”
Harvey hangs up and slides the phone back into his pocket.
“They said it could be a while,” Harvey adds.
“Define ‘a while.’”
“I don't know, Mike, I didn't exactly ask them to commit to a number.”
“Some lawyer you are,” Mike says, rolling his eyes. “I guess this is it, then. We're going to die in this elevator."
“No, you’ll die,” Harvey says. “I’ll be just fine.”
Mike leans back, arms folded behind his head, like he’s lounging poolside and not on the floor of a broken-down elevator with his boss.
It’s unclear how long they’ve been stuck at this point, but it's long enough for Mike to make himself way too comfortable given the situation and for Harvey to start thinking that maybe this is some sort of punishment for all the people he's wronged in his life.
Harvey eventually sighs heavily and undoes another button on his shirt with a sharp flick of his fingers. He doesn’t miss the way Mike’s gaze tracks the movement.
Mike grins. “Careful. If you keep undressing at that pace, I’m gonna think you’re trying to seduce me.”
Harvey glares.
Mike holds up both hands, mock-innocent. “Just saying. If you’re overheating, you should really take your shirt off. I won’t look.”
“You’re looking right now.”
“I meant I won’t stare.”
“You’ve been staring since it happened.”
“I haven’t! I’ve been... observing. Casually.”
“Casual observation does not include licking your lips.”
Mike shrugs. “Dry mouth. Stress.”
Harvey eyes him. “Are you always like this when confined to small spaces?”
“No, I’m worse,” Mike says brightly. “You’re getting the good version right now. Charming. Contained. Mildly inappropriate.”
“You skipped over insufferable.”
“I figured you’d supply it.”
Harvey exhales, pressing his back against the elevator wall. “Remind me to fire you when we get out of here.”
“Yeah, I'm not going to do that. Besides, you can't fire me, I’m your best associate.”
“You’re my only associate.”
“Exactly. Best by default.”
Harvey pinches the bridge of his nose. Mike watches him, head tilted slightly, voice softening. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Harvey doesn’t answer right away. He just leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes for a beat longer than necessary.
Mike shifts forward a little on the floor. “You could sit, you know. Might help.”
“I’m good.”
Mike watches him for another second. “I know you said you’re not flustered, but you’re doing that thing with your jaw.”
Harvey opens one eye. “What thing?”
Before Mike can answer, the lights flicker, and then blink fully back on, humming bright and steady.
Mike blinks up at the ceiling. “Yay! We’re saved.”
He pushes up to his feet, and starts to brush off his pants.
Then, just as suddenly, the lights cut out again.
Mike’s shoulders sag. “Never mind. It was nice while it lasted.”
“Damn it, Mike.”
“Why are you blaming me? I don’t control the elevator!”
Suddenly, the elevator lurches; a sharp mechanical jolt that lifts them about a foot before stopping just as violently. Harvey stumbles, instinctively reaching out--his palm landing flat against the wall just behind Mike’s head, pinning him in place.
Mike doesn’t move.
They’re close. Too close. Breath mingling. Heat rising. Their eyes meet and hold. The air feels thick, electric, like it might catch fire from the tension alone.
Neither of them says a word.
Neither of them moves.
Another low groan. The lights flicker. And the elevator starts moving again.
Harvey exhales through his nose, steady but sharp, and takes a deliberate step back. Adjusts his cuffs. Like nothing happened.
Mike leans his head back against the wall, a slow, smug smile spreading across his face.
“You so wanted to kiss me.”
Harvey doesn’t answer.
Which is as good as admitting it, Mike thinks.