Author's Note: This is supposed to be a funny. I think it's funny. I have a twisted sense of humor. I wrote it all discombobulated and it pretty much stayed that way. I wouldn't dare to call it Tarantino esque but it certainly jumps around a little.
IN OTHER NEWS. SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS FOR HIGH NOON! Not in the story. But in the rest of this ridiculous note. Just scroll really quickly to the unbolded stuff for things that are not at all spoiler-y.
Stoned-Harvey may be my favorite thing that has happened in the history of the universe. "Is this the coffee cart guy?"
I died. It's totally hypocritical and fucking awesome. Lovelovelove it. Also he's so goofy. Any man who makes up a game combining a can opener and upwards of 30 thumbtacks has a silly streak a mile wide. WTF are he and Donna DOING with those supplies?!
"You're mad at me."
Harvey moves to slam the door in Mike's face, but the younger man is faster and throws an arm out to stop it.
"You're on my doorstep at midnight. I'm not pleased with you, no," Harvey glares, not shutting the door but refusing to allow Mike inside.
"Why are you mad at me?" Mike rephrases, keeping his weight against the wood, "And you answered the door."
"Why are you on my doorstep at midnight?" Harvey mimics, "And I was expecting someone else."
"You have a peephole. Answer my question."
Harvey thinks for a moment.
"No." Harvey realizes he's walked into a trap the moment the word falls from his lips. Damn but Mike can play him.
"But you are mad at me?" Mike's develops a distinctive crease between his eyebrows as he searches Harvey's face. It's a look Harvey knows well. He's in trouble.
He's in a lot of trouble.
Mike's in trouble. He's standing in Harvey's office and he knows he's in trouble, because Harvey is flexing his left hand and moving to straighten his tie with the right and Mike is in so much trouble.
He has no idea why.
"Whatever you're about to yell at me for, I didn't do it." Mike knows it is the wrong thing to say, that it is dangerously incriminating, but seriously. He has no idea.
Harvey's eyes narrow, even as the corners of his mouth turn up a hair, "I wasn't going to yell at you, I have some case files for you to review." The smirk drops away, and now Harvey is just staring shrewdly at Mike.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Mike protests, and lifts the stack of files from Harvey's desk. Harvey eyes him for a moment longer and then waves a hand in dismissal, which Mike knows is how Harvey Specter shrugs when he's not painting himself as the picture of nonchalance in an effort to convince someone he doesn't give a shit.
Which means he actually doesn't give a shit. Which is weird, because Mike knows what Harvey looks like when he's pissed off, and he was pissed off about forty seconds ago.
Mike wanders past Donna's desk too lost in thought to so much as wave at her. She frowns a little, and makes a mental note.
Everything is fine. Mike finds something in the files that looks a little funny, and Harvey presses on it 'til it hurts. Team Specter/Ross: 1, Opponent: 0. Jessica is pleased and the client is pleased, and Louis is jealous and everything is right with the world.
Only, Mike still feels like Harvey's mad at him. It takes Mike longer than it should to realize that anger is Harvey Specter Deflection 101.
Harvey worries, because it wasn't anger that Mike read in Harvey's face earlier that day, and he knows that (eventually, maybe) Mike will figure it out. Mike (pretty much, usually) always calls him on his bullshit. Harvey should just tell him the truth, but that's totally out of the question because he has no goddamn idea how to tell Mike that it was want. Harvey wants.
He wants to pin Mike up against the floor to ceiling windows and pull his clothes off for all of Manhattan (and the office) to see. Harvey has absolutely no intention of telling Mike that, because the only way Mike can find out about that little scenario is if it happens. Which it absolutely cannot, for reasons ranging from the imbalance of power in their working relationship, to the fact that Mike wears skinny ties, to the teeny-tiny promise he made to Jessica about being allowed to bend all the rules in the employee code of conduct except that one, and finallyto the even tinier promise he made to himself about doing everything in his power to keep the both of them from screwing Mike's career beyond repair.
All of which was fine and dandy, back at the office. The only problem now, of course, is that Mike is standing on his doorstep at midnight wearing jeans that could not possibly be comfortable to bike in, because they are tight. He's leaning most of his weight against Harvey's front door in an effort to keep it from shutting, and looking at him with a knowing, level stare. Mike Ross is waiting patiently. Harvey Specter fidgets. Harvey Specter wants.
And what Harvey Specter wants, Harvey Specter gets. With one massive caveat.
The only person who keeps Harvey Specter from getting what he wants is Harvey Specter. So Harvey Specter can't have Mike Ross. He can't pin Mike Ross up against the window, and he certainly can't flick open the buttons of Mike Ross' dress shirt, or yank down the collar of his undershirt to attack the pale skin of his collarbone. He can't.
Except he is, and Mike Ross knots the fingers of one hand into Harvey Specter's hair, shoving the other under his shirt to drag at his skin.
Mike Ross makes a breathy little noise at the teeth that graze against his earlobe.
They are in so. much. trouble.