Disclaimer: Mike belongs to Harvey, Harvey belongs to Jessica, Jessica belongs to Pearson Hardman, and Pearson Hardman belongs to Suits on USA Network. I am nowhere to be found in this equation. The title belongs to the Def Leppard song, "Pour Some Sugar On Me."

Warnings for a very poorly written make out session. It's...it's rough. I do apologize.

I like reviews, pretty pretty please.

C'Mon Fire Me Up

The clock had yet to strike eight o'clock in the morning, but Harvey already knew that it was going to be a Very Bad Day. His alarm clock failed to go off on time (not that he could have stayed up too late last night and pressed the snooze button several times this morning. He was Harvey Specter, and Harvey Specter didn't use the snooze button. Obviously), thus forcing him to skip his usual morning jog in favor of a lightning fast shower and hastily styled hair. In his rush to get out the door, he missed drinking his usual cup of pre-office coffee.

Harvey never skipped his pre-office coffee.

As he hurried out to where Ray was already waiting for him, Harvey scrolled through his contacts to text Donna and implore her to make sure a steaming hot mocha awaited him on his desk when he arrived. Unfortunately for Harvey, he stood outside just a moment too long. A pigeon – evil, vile creature that it was – chose that exact moment to fly overhead and launch a fat, white wad of shit onto the shoulder of his brand-new, silk suit jacket. A crack of thunder followed not a moment later, and in an instant buckets of rain were being dumped from the gun-metal sky.

Harvey wordlessly gaped up at the sky for a few moments, seriously wondering whether or not he could actually sue Mother Nature, and Ray – bless his appropriately-appreciated heart – put forth a real effort to look sympathetic even as he shook with repressed laughter.

"I'll wait right here for you, boss," he called.

Harvey darted back inside his building and proceeded to strip off the devastating wreckage that was his new suit as soon as he stepped into his private elevator. Once in his apartment, he gingerly placed the ruined clothes in a garment bag for Ray to take to Rene to have them fixed. He changed and quickly made his way back down to the car.

When he finally made it to work, with a "Good luck today, boss!" from Ray, it was only to find a very smug Mike already waiting by the front doors.

"Guess who beat his boss to work this morning?" Mike pestered as they made their way to the elevators. "This guy!" He enthusiastically jerked his two thumbs at his own chest.

"Guess who won't have a job if he doesn't shut up?" Harvey retorted. "That guy!" He pointed at Mike as the elevator 'dinged' and appeared before them. Mike frowned and kicked at the ground petulantly. "I need you to finish those Jameson briefs and have them on my desk no later than eleven. We have a meeting with Turner at noon."

"But Louis gave me –"

Harvey ground his teeth together. "I don't give two shits what Louis gave you. You work for me."

Greening cheekily, Mike asked, "Does that mean you give one shit about what Louis gives me?" At Harvey's distinctly un-amused look, he mumbled, "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the world today…"

"Jameson briefs. My desk. Eleven."

The next few seconds were silent between them as they passed floor after floor. Mike's face was contemplative. They had just reached 49 when Mike's hand shot out to grab Harvey's, and before the senior partner knew what was happening, he had been hauled into the men's room. Mike locked the door behind them.

"Mike, what're you –"

Harvey didn't finish, because Mike had taken that moment to rush up and slam his lips against Harvey's. Momentarily shocked, he didn't respond; then Mike's tongue was prodding at the seam of his lips with the same insistence as when he was knocking on a door in the middle of the night. It would just be rude not to let him in.

But if Mike was coming into his space, Harvey felt it only right that he himself be in control. He gripped Mike's hips and hoisted the associate onto the bathroom counter. His legs fell open immediately so Harvey could stand between them. He wrapped his tongue around Mike's and pulled it deeper into his mouth, savoring the flavor of whatever candy Mike had substituted for breakfast that morning. Mike's long fingers knotted into the back of Harvey's jacket, which ordinarily would have annoyed the hell out of him, but Mike was wrapping his legs around him and grinding and moaning and was it really possible to be irritated when he was doing such despicable things to Harvey's mouth?

Suddenly, it all came to a stop as Mike hopped off the counter and pulled away, pushing Harvey's hands off of his waist. With the sexiest damn smirk ever, he placed a peck on Harvey's cheek and said, in a tone too sweet for a man who just moments ago had been eating someone's face off like it was the last thing he'd ever taste, "I'll have the briefs on your desk by eleven, than we can head to the meeting. Then…" his voice trailed off and he looked up at Harvey through his eyelashes. "We can draw the shades in your office and continue this on the desk."

He turned, leaving Harvey gaping after him. After unlocking the door, Mike paused and turned back to toss Harvey a coy-little smile and say, "Oh, and Harvey? Stop being such a downer. It's not a good look for you."

With a final little wink, he headed out to his cubicle, and Harvey was left wondering why he'd thought it was such a bad day to begin with.