Work Text:
"Mike Specter's office."
The words hang in the air for a full two seconds before Mike's sleep-deprived brain catches up with him.
"I mean. Harvey Specter's office. This is Mike. I'm his... associate."
He whacks the thumb side of his fist against his forehead. Why did he even answer the phone? He never answers the phone in Harvey's office.
He glances up and sees Harvey staring at him, slack jawed. He glances out the open door and sees Donna, just back from the file room, standing by her desk, looking between them with a smile on her face that says Oh, this is good.
Mike might actually die of embarrassment. The person on the other end of the line starts rambling about some hearing dates and Mike's brain scrambles to catch up while simultaneously thinking about how he can call out sick for the rest of eternity.
Donna strides in, still smiling, and silently gestures for the phone.
Mike practically throws it at her before making a beeline for the exit.
“What are you waiting for?”
“Donna…”
“You said, and I quote, I’ll know when it’s time.”
“Why do you always make me sound like Ray Liotta in Goodfellas?”
Undeterred and highly amused, Donna helps herself to a seat on the edge of Harvey's desk. "Stop avoiding the question."
Harvey, with a performative scowl scrawled across his face, swivels his chair to make room for her. "I'm not."
"Objection. Argumentative."
"That's not-" Harvey starts, but then immediately lets it go. There's no getting out of this, he might as well level with her. "We've barely been together for six months."
She shoots him a look. "You've been in love with that boy for three years. I've known this day was coming since I caught you checking out his ass at the Chilton."
Harvey won't object to that. Truth be told, he's guilty on both counts. "The point is, I'm not going to propose just because Mike slipped up after pulling an all-nighter."
"He'll say yes," Donna says. "You know that, right?"
Harvey's mouth presses flat, his eyes drop away. He knows it's probable, sure, but nothing in life is guaranteed. And just the idea of Mike turning him down... Harvey's still Mike's boss for fuck's sake. They'd have to keep working together every day, acting like nothing happened. It would kill him.
Donna's still looking at him when his eyes flick up off the desk. She gives him a rare, sympathetic look. "Just promise me you'll think about it."
Thankfully for Mike, Harvey never mentions the epic slip up. Which is fine. No, more than fine. It's great. Work is normal and the sex is great (which is normal for them). It's like he and Harvey have psychically agreed that whole verbal typo didn't happen.
After a few weeks, Mike considers the bullet officially dodged. Harvey's not the marrying type. Hell, it took Harvey seeing a Grindr notification on Mike's phone for them to finally have the exclusivity talk (it wasn't even a dm, it was an offer to rejoin premium for only $2.99 a month).
So yeah. No. Mike doesn't have anything to worry about. They're not at risk of getting engaged any time soon. That would be crazy.
There's a meeting in his calendar Harvey doesn't immediately recognise. At a restaurant he's never heard of. He may not have Mike's memory, but he doesn't usually forget about things like this.
He googles the name to see if that will give him a clue and...
Reardon & Co isn't some upscale steakhouse, it's a jewelry store.
Donna.
It had to be.
The website is just a landing page with a picture of the entrance with the words Open by appointment only written below.
Well... it wouldn't hurt to look.
"Where's Harvey?" Mike asks Donna, more than a little out of breath. He's checked everywhere. Office. Kitchen. File room. Bullpen. Office again. "I've called him a hundred times - he's not answering."
"He had a meeting," she says with a hint of smug Mike really doesn't like. "He'll be back in an hour."
"Ha," Mike punches out a panicked laugh. "Yeah, no, our hearing got expedited and if we're not at the courthouse in..." he flicks his wrist to check his watch. Oh shit, "...twenty minutes, the Steinbrecher case is going to get thrown out."
Donna's smugness evaporates. "I see."
"Where is he?"
"Just get to the courthouse. I'll get him there."
"How?"
"Do you have what you need?"
"Yeah, I mean, I have the files, I know the plan, but-"
"Good. Go."
"Harvey's the lead on this one. I can't just-"
"He'll be there," she insists. "Go!"
And fuck it. Mike really doesn't have time to argue with All Knowing Donna. He ducks back into Harvey's office, shoves a dozen folders in his messenger bag, and books it towards the elevator.
There's a ring box in Harvey's pocket and there's no way to hide it. He'll just have to hope Mike's too distracted by the hearing to notice the distinctive square bulge. Harvey hadn't planned on buying anything. He'd just gone to look. But the first thing the proprietor did was ask Harvey about who he was shopping for, how they met, what did he like? The conversation flowed so easily that when the man asked Harvey how he knew Mike was the one, Harvey found himself answering. In detail.
So be bought the rings. One for Mike. One for himself. He tells himself that just because he's bought them doesn't mean he's going to pop the question any time soon. He's just prepared. And it's always good to be prepared.
Make that prepared and distracted.
Harvey pushes open the doors to the courtroom and every face turns towards him.
"Mr. Specter," the judge says with more than a hint of annoyance, "good of you to join us."
"Apologies, your honor," he says, taking his spot next to Mike. "May I have a minute to confer with my associate?"
"You have thirty seconds."
"Dude," Mike hisses. "Where were you?"
"What did I miss?"
Mike hesitates. He really doesn't want to let this go, but thankfully, Harvey's beautiful genius doesn't have a choice. "They're trying to get our witness testimony thrown out."
"On what grounds?"
Mike hands him a piece of paper. "Bullshit drug charges from 10 years ago. She was 19."
"I'll handle it," Harvey says, looking back up to meet Mike's eye. He wants to squeeze his hand, reassure him. "You have the counter-motions ready?"
Mike nods, then takes a breath, clearly relieved not to be handling this solo. He moves his folders over to Harvey's side of the table one at a time. "Motion to dismiss. Motion to compel. Expedited discovery. And, if you're feeling lucky, punk, motion for summary judgement."
God, Harvey thinks in the final seconds before court resumes, how did I ever want to do this without you?
Watching Harvey destroy opposing counsel has always been a turn on. Mike may or may not still think about the first time he saw Harvey in action when his right hand gets bored from time to time.
He pretends to look across the aisle so he can sneak a peak at Harvey's ass. Is it the most mature thing he's ever done? No. But can you blame him? Seriously, have you seen Harvey's ass in tailored Italian wool?
Except...
There's a weird bulge in Harvey's pants. And not the fun kind.
Harvey keeps his wallet and phone in his jacket, so it can't be that.
What the hell...?
The judge's gavel knocks Mike back into the room.
"Come on," Harvey says, landing a hand on his shoulder. "We have ten minutes to figure this out or we're screwed."
"Figure what out?" Mike asks the second they're out in the hall.
Harvey wheels back around. Why is Mike flustered all of a sudden? "Since when do you not pay attention in court?"
"Sorry, I just... spaced for a minute back there."
"You feeling okay?" Harvey asks, suppressing the urge to put a hand on Mike's forehead. "You look pale."
Something hardens across Mike's features. "Where were you today? I kept calling you."
Twenty-two missed calls. That's how many Harvey had when he stepped out of the ring shop and back into cell service. Donna had called the store to give Harvey the message about the hearing being moved up the docket.
"We'll talk about this later."
Mike shakes his head, takes Harvey by the arm, and pulls him outside, away from prying ears.
"What's gotten into you?" Harvey asks. They don't have time for this. They have to be back in court in-
"I know what's in your pocket."
Harvey can feel his face losing colour. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, but even he knows he doesn't sound convincing.
Mike scoffs. "Bullshit." He pulls a hand down his face. "Is this because of what I said when I answered the phone? Did all your noncommittal shit get triggered and what, you decided you needed to see what else was on the menu? Fuck, Harvey, I thought we were on the same page about this."
Okay. Harvey's officially lost the plot. "About what exactly?"
"You and me," Mike says, insistent. "Us! I thought we were giving this a real shot."
"We are..." Harvey says, more confused than ever.
"Then why the fuck is there a box of condoms in your pocket?!"
There's a brief moment of relief so profound that Harvey almost starts laughing, "That's not-" but then panic sets in. How could Mike even think that? "Hey. Look at me."
It's a full second before Mike's scowl racks over.
"I wasn't- I would never cheat on you."
"Then where were you?"
Harvey holds Mike's eye. Everything they've built is suddenly dangling by a thread and that thread is starting to fray. And sure, there's a chance Harvey can talk his way out of this without showing Mike what's really in his pocket, but it'll cost them.
"I got us something," Harvey says, slipping his hand into his pocket, feeling the smooth edges of the leather box. "For the future."
Mike's eyes narrow. "What?"
Harvey sighs, pulls the box out.
The moment Mike sees it, his jaw drops. "Holy shit."
"I know it's too soon. I just... I haven't been able to stop thinking about how good my name sounded on the end of yours."
"Yes." Mike says firmly, like Harvey's just gotten down on one knee.
"I'm not-" Harvey says, clarifying, but then his heart catches up with his brain and overtakes it in an instant. "Wait, really?"
"Yes, really. Open it."
He pops open the box. An awed smile takes over Mike's face and Harvey will remember this moment for the rest of his life.
"Which one's mine?"
Is this really happening? Harvey pulls the top ring free. A simple gold band. Nothing flashy. Just perfection. Simple and pure. He slips it onto Mike's finger.
Mike does the same for him, then pulls Harvey in by his lapels and crashes their lips together.
Harvey's heart rate is in the stratosphere. It doesn't even feel like his feet are in contact with the ground. Did he really just... Are they actually... engaged?
"I love you," Mike sighs as they separate. "Holy shit, I love you so much."
"I love you, too," Harvey says. His cheeks ache from smiling.
Mike's face suddenly falls. He checks his watch. "Shit. Okay. We have to be back inside in two minutes. What do we need to win?"
Harvey blinks, tries to sober up. "We, uh... We're going to need to argue for a continuation unless you happen to have a precedent that can get their so-called expert testimony dismissed."
The blue in Mike's eyes spark. "Give me the context," he says as they head back towards the courthouse in lock step. "I think I might have something."
Mike does indeed have something. But just to be safe, he makes himself pay attention for the rest of the hearing to make sure opposing counsel don't throw anymore curveballs at them. Which is hard because he can't stop looking at his ring, and the few times he does manage to stop looking at it he finds himself staring at Harvey's and then has to adjust himself in his pants and think about cold showers, and the way Louis always says champagne with a French accent.
The judge is tough, but fair. She cracks a smile at one of Harvey's subtle jokes and ultimately rules in their favour.
"We should grab an early dinner," Harvey says as they pack up their files. "Go home, celebrate."
"Or," Mike suggests, unable to keep the mischievous smirk off his face. "I have a better idea."
Harvey gives him a curious look as if to ask what could be better than We just got engaged! sex?
It only takes a minute for Mike to convince him. They don't have big families. Or a ton of close friends. And if they feel like throwing a reception one day down the road, they can.
"You're sure?" Harvey asks, clearly still reeling from everything that's happened in the last half an hour.
Mike can't stop smiling. "Judge Davies," Mike asks, heart fluttering. "Permission to approach the bench?"
She casts him a skeptical glance. "Granted."
When Mike and Harvey get to the front of the courtroom, Mike slips his hand into Harvey's. They share one last look. They've come so far, been through so much, and always, always, had each other's backs. And yet somehow it still feels like they're about to take one hell of a leap of faith.
Harvey nods, squeezes Mike's hand, and that's all the reassurance he needs.
"We need a quick favor."
She looks at their joined hands and then back up at Mike. "And what might that be?"
"We need you marry us."
"Donna's going to kill us," Mike mumbles against Harvey's bare chest later that night.
"What?" Harvey asks, still breathing heavy. "Are you seriously thinking about Donna after what we just did?"
"No," Mike says, pulling Harvey's hand up next to his. "I'm just imagining going to work tomorrow with these on our fingers and having to explain that the only witness to our blessed union was Steve the bailiff."
Leave it to Mike to worry about other people at a time like this. Harvey pulls him into his arms, kisses the side of his head. "Donna will be happy for us. And as for everyone else, we don't owe them an explanation."
"Yeah, but you're my boss and-"
"Husband."
The word seems to short circuit Mike's brain. Harvey can feel him smiling. "Husband," Mike repeats with a hint of awe. "I could get used to that."
"You'd better," Harvey says with a contended smirk. "Because you're officially stuck with me now."
"I'm going to need new business cards," Mike says, snuggling closer. "Michael Specter-Ross."
Now it's Harvey's turn to short circuit. "You're really going to change your name?"
"Yeah...?" Mike half-says, half-asks. He props himself up on one elbow and looks down at Harvey. "Why?"
"Then I guess I'll need them, too," Harvey answers, looking up at the gorgeous man who's surprised him every day since they met.
Mike grins, leans down to kiss him, then suddenly pulls back a the last second. "Wait. Does this mean I get my name on the wall?"
Harvey pushes his head back into the pillow. "What are you talking about?"
"Pearson Specter. You're going to be Specter-Ross. Ipso facto: Pearson Specter-Ross. I'm a name partner."
"Nice try," Harvey says. "You want your name on the wall, you're going to have to get it the old fashioned way."
"Really?" Mike teases, inching closer. "No shortcuts for sleeping with the top?"
"You mean sleeping your way to the top."
"I said what I said," Mike smirks, and then finally, blessedly, leans in for that kiss.