"I'm taking the deal."

Harvey Specter stops, slowly turns to face Mike. Something about the way the lines of his face crease cause Mike to think he's worried, or confused, or— or something, okay, Mike's never claimed to be good at reading Harvey. He's spent more than enough time studying the man, and he knows quite a few of his ticks and tells, but Harvey's an enigma, and not one that Mike thinks he'll ever be able to solve. "What are you taking about? No you're not."

"Yes, actually, I am," he says. "I mean, you know what happens if I don't. Gibbs is— she's ruthless, we've both seen that, and she's," Mike falters, tries to say going to win but can't quite get the words out, "a really good prosecutor. If I don't take the two years, she's going to force all seven of them onto me, and then she'll come after you, and Donna, and Jessica, and Rachel, and Louis, and— and everyone I care about." Mike sighs, pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them down his face. "Okay, no, she'll just go after you, Jessica, and Louis — I mean, you three are Pearson Specter Litt, and Donna and Rachel are just employees — but five or three, you guys are my friends, and I'm not letting anyone go to jail for my stupidity." The fact that his fiancée came second to last on his list when his boss — ex-boss, now, he supposes — came first should have been enough to clue one of them in on his feelings, but alas. Nothing.

"Mike, if anyone," Harvey says, and then stops, and sighs. He wants to get Mike to change his mind, Mike knows, but it's clear that while the words are there, it's actually saying them that Harvey's having difficulty with. "If anyone deserves to go to jail for the crimes that you're being charged with," Harvey tells him, and the words are impersonal, like they haven't spent years working together, "it's me, not you."

"What?" Mike sounds incredulous, like he really wasn't expecting that, and the thing is, he honestly wasn't, "Come on, don't be ridiculous. I'm the fraud."

"And I'm the one who offered you a job," Harvey reminds him, as if Mike possibly could have forgotten. "I could've sent you on your way after I made sure the coast was clear, Mike, and I didn't."

"Do you," he falters for a second, like he's not sure if he wants to know the answer, but then pushes forward, "Do you, you know, regret it? Hiring me."

Harvey stares. "Is that really— I mean. Do you actually think that I could ever regret—" he stops, shaking his head in what seems to be disbelief. "Mike, after everything we've been through, after everything we've done... no. I don't regret hiring you. Don't get me wrong, I definitely regret the circumstances, but I could never regret you."

Under normal circumstance, Mike would've loved to hear that, but these aren't normal circumstances. Mike's going to go to jail. Mike's going to go to jail, and it's going to ruin the firm, ruin Harvey's firm, and no matter what anyone says, that's on him. It doesn't make sense, Harvey not regretting hiring him when everything that's gone wrong since is because of that decision. "You should," says Mike. "I mean, I'm glad that you hired me, I'm so glad, it probably saved my life, but— fuck, Harvey, you should regret it."

"Not it," Harvey replies, sharply. Mike flinches away, caught off guard by the harsh tone, and Harvey visibly softens. It's always weird to watch him, this man who proclaims to have no feelings, care so openly. "Mike, it's not— it's not it. You. I don't regret you." Harvey's trying to hint at something, something important, but Mike just... can't quite figure out what. "This firm, it's probably not going to be able to come back from this — if you go to jail, it definitely won't — and despite that, I don't regret you. That should tell you something."

Mike closes his eyes. If you go to jail, it definitely won't. If Mike takes the deal, the firm is done. But if he doesn't, if he lets this go to court, he might still go to jail, and if that happens... god, if that happens, he'll be in there for a lot longer than two years, and Rachel— oh. Rachel. Mike clears his threat. "Rachel," he says, and watches Harvey's face crumble, "I haven't— I haven't even thought about her. This entire time, I've just been focusing on—" On you. Oh. Oh no. Oh no, this can't be happening, he can't be in love with—

"Mike?" says Harvey, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he chokes out, even though he's clearly not. Mike ducks his head, slightly overwhelmed by the urge to just start bawling. "I— yes. I'm good. Just, I should go home. You know, to Rachel."

"Right," Harvey agrees, looking somewhat uncomfortable, "You should... do that. Talk to her about the deal. Does she— I mean, is she okay with it? You taking the two years, instead of fighting it out in court?"

"I haven't told her," Mike tells him, and then freezes. He came to that decision when he was next to Rachel, and yet he just— completely ignored her, went straight to Harvey instead. God, how can he win so many cases, fix so many problems, and never even realize that he's been in love with his boss this entire time? It's so obvious, and yet there he is, engaged to Rachel, and— oh fuck. He's engaged. To someone he isn't in love with, someone who isn't Harvey. Fuck. "I— she's not going to be very happy."

"Well, she's not the only one," Harvey tells him, even though it's been rather obvious that he's less than pleased with Mike's decision. "If you let me represent you, if we follow this through... I mean, Mike, we might win."

"Or," says Mike, softly, "we lose, and I go to prison for seven years." He thinks that maybe, if it was Rachel, if it was just Rachel, that he'd risk it, but this— he's doing this for Harvey. "But if I take the deal, I'm out after two and you're safe. You can't— you can't possibly expect me to say no to that, Harvey."

"And I'm safe?" repeats Harvey, and there's something about the way he says it, something hopeful, that makes Mike want to lean in and kiss him. They're close enough that he wouldn't have to move all that much, and god, it's so tempting, but he just— he can't.

"And, you know," Mike says instead, "everyone else that knows my secret. Donna, Jessica, Rachel, Louis... the people I mentioned earlier, our friends." Mike does his best to maintain eye contact, knowing that if he doesn't, he's going to end up staring at Harvey's lips— and that's not exactly something that's going to go unnoticed.

"Your fiancée," Harvey corrects, as if Mike hasn't spent the last minute agonizing over that fact, "She's not your friend, she's you're fiancée." He wonders if maybe, perhaps, Harvey's just trying to remind himself that Mike is spoken for, and god, if there's even a chance that Harvey feels the same way—

"My... fiancée?" asks Mike, too busy wondering if there's even a possibility that he might not be straight to really pay attention to what Harvey's saying. And then it clicks. Rachel. They're still talking about Rachel. Because he's engaged to her. Not Harvey. "I mean, I— uh, yes, she's... that."

His eyes narrow. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Mike says, even though he's not. "I'm just— tired, I guess, and confused, and I don't know if I want to do this, but I have to, I don't want to risk you going to prison instead, and—"

Harvey's pulling him into a hug before he has a chance to really start freaking out, and this— this isn't like their other hugs. It's... less friendly, more desperate, the sort of hug two lovers would share if it's the last time they're ever going to see each other. Mike is completely pressed up against Harvey, and honestly, he wants to just stay there, embraced in his arms, forever. "Don't take the deal," whispers Harvey, mouth right by Mike's ear. "Let me fight for you."

Mike goes to pull back, but Harvey's grip tightens even more and he finds himself unable to even think about trying again. It's comforting, the hug, in a way that he can't remember anything else ever being. "I can't," Mike tells him. "I won't, Harvey."

Harvey doesn't end the hug, not exactly, but he pulls away enough that they can see each other's faces. "Mike," he says, his face full of desperation and— and love. Oh. Oh. "Please, Mike, please don't take the deal."

"Give me a reason," Mike replies, and if he's hoping that Harvey will kiss him, well, that's his business. "Give me a reason to fight, and I swear, we'll fight."

Regardless of whether or not Mike wants a kiss, he definitely gets one. Harvey's lips are on his before he has time to even blink, hands drifting from Mike's shoulders down to his waist. He returns the kiss immediately, fingers curling around the back of Harvey's neck as he tugs him even closer. After what feels like one, two, three, four, ten seconds, Mike goes to undo Harvey's tie, goes to move the kiss into a little more serious territory, but then it's over, and distance is quickly put between the pair.

"I shouldn't have done that," confesses Harvey, and he's staring over Mike's head, like he can't quite bring himself to look at what he just did. Harvey's always had a— a thing about cheating, thanks to his mother's indiscretions, and seeing as Mike's technically engaged, well.

Mike, of course, has no such issues, so he looks Harvey in the eyes and says, "I'm glad you did." It's the truth. It shouldn't be — Mike's supposed to be in love with Rachel, supposed to marry her — but it is.

"You're engaged," says Harvey. "It was wrong, and it won't happen again." He looks away, and adds, "About the deal—"

"I'll take it to court," interrupts Mike, and no, the kiss has nothing to do with him changing his mind, really, it doesn't, "But you— you aren't going on the stand."

"Mike—"

"No, okay, I know you, remember? And when you care about someone, you'll do whatever you can to keep them safe, we saw that with Donna, and I— I can't honestly say that you won't go up there and perjure yourself, and I swear, I swear, I'm not going to let that happen," insists Mike. "So, we take this to court, we fight it out till the very end, but you don't go on the stand. At any point. Ever."

"You can't ask me to do that," says Harvey.

There's a time to cave, and a time to stay strong, and this— this is the time to stay strong, and Mike knows it. "I just did," he tells him, "and seeing as that's my only condition, well, I think you're going to have to get over it."

"Mike, my testimony could help," he replies. "It could save you."

"No, actually, it couldn't, because the only response you could ever give would be I plead the fifth," corrects Mike. "And if you don't do that then you'd be telling her I'm a fraud, or even worse, perjuring yourself, and I'm not letting that happen."

Harvey sighs. "Fine," he says, "but, just for the record, Mike? You're not Donna."

He stares. "What?"

"You said," clarifies Harvey, "that I would do anything for the people I care about, and that it became apparent with Donna. You— you're not Donna."

"I— I know that," says Mike, growing a touch nervous. The kiss, their kiss, is special to Mike, is always going to be special to Mike, but it might mean nothing to Harvey. The look on his face, the one Mike took one look at and then declared to be love, could be something else entirely. Mike isn't good at reading Harvey. That's suddenly a lot more horrifying a thought. "But you still care about me, right? Not as much as you care about her, of course, but... you care. Don't you?"

"More than," Harvey says. He's silent for a moment, and then, impossibly soft, "I care about you more than I care about her."

Mike thinks that if his voice was even a little bit kinder, he'd start to cry. Harvey sounds so nice, so friendly, so loving, that it hurts. This sort of thing shouldn't hurt. "Don't say that," he pleads. "Don't say that, Harvey, because you know what? I want you to mean it, I need you to mean it, and you can't, okay? You can't."

"Why not?" asks Harvey. "Why can't I care about you, Mike?"

"Because I love you," shouts Mike, and then freezes. He isn't supposed to say that. He's never supposed to say that, because he's engaged to Rachel, he's going to marry Rachel, and Harvey is his boss. Ex-boss. Whatever. "I love you, and I just... I'm going to get married, Harvey. Rachel's going to be my wife. So, yeah, okay? You can't care about me, not like that, because it'll just make me hope for something I can never have: you."

Harvey smiles, and god, Mike's never seen anything more breathtaking. "What if I love you too?"

"That sounds fake," he says, not quite looking at Harvey, "but okay."

"I'm not joking," insists Harvey. "You think that I threaten to quit my job for just anybody? You're special. So, yes, actually, I love you. And I love you. And I love you." It's clear that he's telling the truth, or at least believes he is. Harvey has this sort of earnestness about him when he's being honest, and even Mike, who either can't read him at all or can read him extremely well, knows it.

"It wouldn't work," Mike tells him, and it's the truth, too. They're similar, too similar, and the saying is opposites attract for a reason. "If we were to— I mean, you and me, a couple? We'd get on each other's nerves, and we'd fight all the time, and we'd break up after like, a week. Also, I'm going to jail."

Harvey shrugs. "It'd be the best week of my life," he says. "And I'll be defending you in court, remember? Don't start packing just yet."

"Is there anything I can do to convince you that I'm a terrible person and you should stop loving me immediately?" Mike asks, and it's odd, isn't it, because logic says he should be begging for another kiss.

"Not a chance," says Harvey.

Mike pauses. "I'm still engaged, you know," he reminds him, because that matters.

"Shut up and kiss me."