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Summary
Suddenly needing to be even closer, Mike leans down until their chests are almost brushing, one forearm resting right by Harvey's head and caging him in, unwilling to pull his other hand away from where it's stuck to Harvey's waist. This close, he can clearly see how Harvey's pupils dilate, eyes flicking between Mike’s eyes and mouth.
"Light it up for me, baby?" Mike purposely pitches his voice a little lower just to see how Harvey reacts, drinking in how the older man shivers and how his pink tongue swipes across pinker lips at being called a petname. He's incredibly glad the joint is taking up most of the muscles in his mouth- otherwise he'd be grinning something terrible.
Harvey Specter likes being called baby. A voice sings in his brain, terrifyingly similar to the one that had pointed out the way Harvey chased his mouth after every touch, Harvey Specter wants to be good for you and wants you to call him baby.
or: Harvey Specter wants to learn how to shotgun. Mike Ross is more than willing to teach him. They both end up getting more than they bargained for.
Harvard!AU