Harvey hates being out of control of his life.
First time it happened was with Clifford Danner and Harvey had run, for the last time in his life, run back to the safety of Jessica and Pearson Hardman.
The next time it was when Mike came into his life, all blundering, piss poor excuse for a criminal and Harvey had put his entire life on the line for the kid with a magnificent brain and a pair of bright blue eyes that stayed in Harvey's mind even as he buried himself in the latest in a long line of meaningless one night stands.
Then it had been when Mike had kissed him, tilted his world and kissed him hard and Harvey had felt his self control slipping the second Mike put his hands on him.
Then, Mike had enlisted and Harvey would have been willing to watch the world burn if it meant keeping Mike with him, safe and close and only for Harvey.
And it happens every time Mike goes away.
Mike had gone, with a shaved head and a bright smile and hands touching Harvey like he thought Harvey was going to disappear before Mike got a chance to tell him iI love you/i whispered hot into Harvey's ear. Harvey hadn't replied, of course he hadn't, but told Mike to keep his head down and stay safe and it had been as good as answering Mike's three words with three of his own.
Harvey hates it when Mike isn't here. He hates the silence in the apartment, the neat tidiness, the lack of wet footprints across the wood floor in the morning and the fact that Mike's hands don't wake him up, hot and damp from the shower, but sure and knowing.
Harvey hates that the only way he can see Mike is on a small laptop screen, minutes snatched in between piles of briefs and depos for Harvey, and hours of boredom and minutes of terror for Mike. Mike always smiles though, touches the screen like he wants to touch Harvey and Harvey has to remind himself that he can't stop this war with legal jargon and a well aimed glare.
He sees Mike's Grandmother as much as he can, letting her know how Mike's doing, tries to ignore the guilt he feels whenever her eyes tear up and she pats his hand and kisses his forehead and it makes Harvey feel 15 again.
Donna sends Mike parcels, because that's the only way she can keep herself from marching out there and putting a stop to this herself, if anyone could it would be Donna, slips in the small shots of Red Bull and Mike's favourite cookies, Red Vines and Cheetos and Harvey has to close his eyes against the sudden image of Mike licking his fingers clean of violently orange dust.
He spends hours writing letters, most of them end up in the trash, because he can't say what he wants, he's never been good at that. And with Mike, he only has to look at Harvey to know what he's trying to say, but Mike's not here to see his face right now so Harvey spends hours trying to get the words just right. He usually ends up writing something meaningless and hope Mike gets what he's trying to say.
I love you, I miss you, come home safe.
When Mike comes back, for however long it is, it's never enough, Harvey can't touch him until they're at home. Doesn't trust himself enough to let Mike go long enough to actually drive home. But once they're through the door Harvey has him close and he can't get his hands on him quick enough. Mike is always smaller than Harvey remembers when he comes home, skinnier in a way that Harvey thinks he must imagine, his fingers fitting perfectly into the spaces between his ribs and Mike arches upwards, presses himself close because he's been waiting for Harvey to do this for months, God, missed you.
Harvey may not have a memory like Mike's, but he knows Mike's body like the back of his hand, and he hates that there are new cuts, new scars that he can't remember from before, fading bruises that Harvey himself didn't put there and Harvey can't help but press his fingers to them and make Mike spill the stories, words catching whenever Harvey presses that little bit too hard.
He sinks into Mike then, presses their foreheads together and loses himself in Mike's body and falls asleep with Mike pressed up to his chest and tries to ignore that he can get his arms that little bit further around Mike.
I'm ok.
Mike doesn't say anything when Harvey spends the weeks Mike's at home surreptitiously trying to fatten him up, just smiles and eats everything Harvey puts in front of him and Harvey loves him that little bit more each time.
Donna hugs him like she's never going to let him go and Mike just holds on, closes his eyes and it makes Harvey's chest tight that he's not the only one that misses him like a limb when he's not here.
He feels like his control is slipping again whenever it draws near to when Mike leaves and he gets angry and ignores Mike and he knows it wrong but somewhere in the back of his mind, that tiny childish part is hoping if he makes a big enough fuss, Mike will stay. Mike just touches him with tentative hands, lets Harvey fuck him hard enough that it must hurt, and neither of them mention the way Harvey holds on that little bit longer, trying to keep a grip on reality, on Mike being here and whole and safe.
He doesn't mean to, he never means to, but he hurts Mike the night before he goes, pushes in too hard, too quickly, and Mike gasps, urges him on though with fingers pressed into his skin and legs wrapped around his waist and he tells Harvey he loves him, whispers it into Harvey's mouth as Harvey just gives up and fucks him so hard he sees stars. Come, he says and Mike does, come back to me and it's not until Mike's half asleep, hands still pressed into Harvey's skin, that Mike shifts and mutters I promise into Harvey's neck.
He can't promise, Harvey knows that, and as Mike slips from his hands, not before running them over Harvey's face like he's trying to memorise him, and goes back to the desert, Harvey feels his control slipping further and further. And he tries to ignore the need to lose himself in someone for the night when he gets back to an empty, tidy flat, goes to the gym instead and runs until he can't see straight and can't think of anything other than the burn in his legs as he falls into bed without even showering and sleeps until the early hours of the morning. He wakes with the ghost of Mike's touch across his shoulders.
For a while after Mike leaves Harvey's horrible, he knows it, he can't help it, and Donna tries to hold his calls as much as possible and Harvey tries to ignore the almost blind panic at the thought that Mike might not come back, wonders if he might actually lose control of his life completely this time and go utterly insane without Mike to grin at him and keep him tethered to his control.
Because for some reason Harvey only feels completely in control of his life when Mike is within touching distance.
So he just waits, tries to carry out a normal life with some semblance of control, until Mike comes back, with smiles and touches and Harvey feels like he can breathe again.