Growing up with the knowledge that you were destined for someone, and by extension that same someone (in the vast majority of cases) was destined for you, took some excitement out of things. Not that anybody knew what the excitement was, for as long as people had been around, they had known their "other half", their soulmate, the one was out their waiting and it was just a case of finding them.
Parents knew, when their child was born, a name came to them, in a dream, whispered into their ears during a moment of silence, somehow, but they knew the child's other half, and it was their duty to pass that knowledge on, whether before hand or after the child had met them, there was no law on that and some parents didn't even pass it on at all.
It wasn't necessarily a lightening bolt, or choirs of angels singing on high, and sudden light bulb moment of "oh, this is the one" if you hadn't been told your other half's name, more often than not it was something small, the slow gentle build up until the knowledge finally slotted into place, like a Chinese puzzle box finally, finally opening to reveal it secrets and treasures. It could happen fast though and Mike can remember reading stories about people who had known within hours and others who had taken weeks to figure it out.
Mike's parents had died before they had told him, whether they were going to or not was something Mike never knew, but Grammy knew the name, kept it safe and hidden from Mike, wanted him to at least have some semblance of free will when it came to his life choices, even though his life was pretty much mapped out for him since inception. But she smiled when Mike talked about it, a smile tinged with sadness and Mike had more than once wondered how she managed to live since Grampy had died.
Mike had always though Trevor was his. Ever since he had rescued Mike from bullies, aged five and being teased for his "freaky brain" (their words), Trevor has used small, grubby fists and punched them, sending them screaming for the hills like terrified animals. Or that's the way Mike liked to remember it anyway.
Even if Mike hadn't believed in Knights in shining armour, he would have right then, aged five and dusting off muddy, bloody knees and wiping away hot tears like they were the enemy.
From then on it had been him and Trevor, their names rolling into one TrevorandMike, and Mike had thought it would always be that way.
When Jenny had come into the picture Mike had thought it was a temporary road block on the path to true love (he had been rather prone to flights of fancy back then) and had smiled and despite himself, fallen in love with her. Not romantic love, but the kind of love that you have for a sister, a close sororal love that Trevor had frowned at more than once and Mike had found himself smiling about Trevor jealous and that was one more step in the right direction.
He'd asked his parents once, young, aged seven, if they knew who it was and they had sat him down, explained how it worked, that parents knew, no flashing signs to guide their way, the just knew, a name coming to them out of the darkness, in a dream, in the middle of a grocery store shopping for the food for the week, hand on pregnant belly and a name would sound in their ear. They hadn't told Mike his name, kept it to themselves, and said that way, it kept some fun in his life.
He'd asked Grammy a few years down the line, after the accident and after the wounds had begun to heal, however slightly, and she had smiled, patted his small hand and told him he was far too young to worry about that sort of thing, and it would all click into place one day. He would just know. He tried to tell her then that he did know, him and Trevor would be together forever, but she had told him to wash up for dinner and he knew that was the end of the conversation.
It was after a fight with Jenny, one that Mike had still felt vibrating angrily in the walls of their apartment long after she had stormed out, when Trevor had kissed Mike for the first time, aged twenty and drunk, angry and tired and Mike had felt like his whole body was singing as he wound his fingers into Trevor's hair and kissed back.
He had thought that it couldn't get any better than that. Couldn't get any better than Trevor's body pressing him up against the pillar in the middle of his breathtaking loft apartment with the impressive views and the trendy sliding door, Trevor's hand tracing a hot path across his sides, slotting his fingers into the spaces between his ribs and groaning, like he was dying, into Mike's mouth.
He'd asked Grammy again after that, with his lips still tingling and tasting like the inside of Trevor's mouth, if it was Trevor and she smiled sadly and shook her head, patted his hand again and told him that he would know, one hundred per cent when he found the person.
Mike had thought he had known, one hundred per cent.
When Harvey Specter had walked into his life, or more accurately Mike Ross had barrelled into Harvey Specter's life, with a briefcase full of weed and a fake name, Mike hadn't been aware his whole life, and his ideal of life, had been about to change beyond all comprehension. He hadn't been ready for it, safe in the knowledge that Trevor was his, and would be forever, he hadn't been looking for anything else.
He should have notice the surprised look, quickly schooled, when Mike had revealed his real name, but his mind had been buzzing, too distracted to notice anything other than the fact that Harvey wasn't calling the cops. He should have noticed the way Harvey had seemed all too willing to hire someone with no qualifications and even less discipline, someone with nothing other than a dubious background and an eidetic memory.
He should have noticed the way Harvey had looked at him.
He had wondered, heading back to his apartment with a new job and a slight sinking feeling deep in his stomach, if Trevor had known, and if he had known, why he had sent Mike. Trevor was Mike's knight, the one to stand up for Mike when no one else did and Mike just couldn't believe that he would have willingly sent him into something like that. He hadn't wanted to believe that no more than he'd wanted to believe that one day his parents would leave him.
Jenny had been waiting when he got back, her soft smile turned towards him as he had pulled the door open and she'd wrapped her arms around him like she had always done. She smelled like warmth and Mike had hugged back.
"Jenny?" He'd asked and she pulled back, tucked her hair behind her ear and cocked her head to the side, "is Trevor…yours?"
Jenny had smiled, a little sadly, run her fingers across his cheek.
"I always thought he was yours," she'd said.
"And you stayed?"
"I stayed."
"Why?"
"Because I'd like to think in another life maybe you'd both be mine."
There had been a finality in her tone, and Mike had only then noticed the suitcase by the door, her coat neatly folded over the top.
"You're leaving." It hadn't been a question but she'd nodded anyway, pressed her mouth to Mike's gently. She'd tasted like Trevor, but herself too and Mike had run his fingers one last time through her hair before she had smiled sadly and walked out of his life.
And Trevor had found him hours later on the couch, the apartment empty of any traces of Jenny, smelling like smoke and beer rather than sunshine and girly things. Trevor's thigh was solid against Mike's, a firm grounding point in the turmoil of Mike's brain, new jobs and lack of Jenny, Trevor's presence, it all spun him around and turned him inside out and Trevor had reach out, pulled him close and kissed him till Mike felt the world stop spinning.
Hurting and angry that had been the first time they had done anything other than heated drunk kisses. Trevor had pushed Mike down into the couch and made him fall apart under his hands and Mike had felt like he was standing on the edge of something, ready to fall at any second.
Trevor's hands had been hot against his skin, running absently down his arms afterwards when he had whispered into Mike's neck.
"I just don't know anymore," he had said, lying pressed next to Mike, skin still hot and slick from fucking Mike into the couch, Mike's skin still buzzing, and Trevor's hands had stopped drawing lazy patterns on Mike's back.
"Don't know what?"
"Anything. I thought…I thought we were the exception, you me and Jenny, that we could make it work Mikey, I just don't know anymore," he had said and Mike had lifted his head, felt with sudden stomach clenching clarity that Trevor wasn't his, he had never been, he had always been Jenny's and Mike had always been in the way of that.
"You're not mine," Mike had said and Trevor had closed his eyes, nodded once.
"I know. And I hate it."
And just like that Mike had lost two of the most important people in his life.
Harvey had seemed to notice something, been easier on Mike for days until Mike had lost it, shouted at Harvey to stop treating him like something that would break, like he wad made of glass and the look Harvey had given him was enough to make Mike's stomach clench, and his skin itch. At least it would have if he had stayed in the office long enough to see it.
The first time he had mentioned Harvey to Grammy she had gotten this surprised relieved look on her face for a brief moment, smiled and nodded in all the right places and Mike had felt like she'd had a secret her entire life and Mike was only just starting to chip away at the layers keeping it hidden.
Harvey had treated him like normal when he'd next seen him, barked orders at him with a twinkle in his eyes and Mike had done them with a smile of thanks on his face and begun to heal the ache that Trevor and Jenny had left. Had begun to see the way Harvey looked at him like he knew every small tiny thing about him, the way Harvey sometimes went to touch him but pulled back at the last minute. And more than once Mike had felt himself gravitating towards Harvey, pressing himself close in the back of the town car, letting his hand brush against Harvey's when they walked that little bit too close, his stomach churning all the while and Mike had begun to feel the puzzle box slowly sliding into place.
It wasn't until Harvey had first kissed him, desperate and needy after too little sleep and too much work, pressed him up against the glass walls of his office and kissed Mike like he meant it, that Mike had seen the puzzle box open inside his mind, the last piece sliding across to reveal it secrets and he'd wondered why it had taken him so long to figure it out. Harvey's hands had been hot against his face, his thumbs gentle and surprisingly soft as they slid across his cheeks, even though his kiss had been hard and left Mike's lips bruised.
"Oh my God...its you." He had said when Harvey had pulled back far enough to let Mike breathe, to let Mike think and Harvey had just looked at him, not said a word and watched as Mike had turned and fled. His whole world had flipped on its axis, Harvey was his, and even though Mike's stomach had been turning, his skin humming in a different way to when Trevor touched him, he had still mourned the loss of that knowledge of Trevor being his forever. He had known it of course, but now there was no escape from it, no escape from the ground breaking knowledge that Trevor wasn't that to him, that Harvey was. Harvey had always been and Mike had been too blind, too caught up with the idea of Trevor to notice the way his skin burned when Harvey touched him.
Mike had found himself, later after finding courage at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, with his hands and forehead pressed to Harvey's front door, calling out Harvey's name through the wood.
"The way you looked at me…I should have known but I always thought it was Trevor." Mike had said, as Harvey had let him in, after much pacing and thinking and too much alcohol and Harvey's hand had clenched around the door frame.
"I hate him." He had admitted and Mike had laughed wryly.
"I always thought it was him, and I was stupid and when he left I couldn't see," Mike had said and Harvey had smiled, curled his fingers into Mike's jacket lapels and tugged gently.
"You see now?" Mike nodded as Harvey had slid his hand across Mike's face, thumb running across his cheek.
"Yeah, I see. Sorry it took me so long."
"Just glad you caught up, kid."
Harvey's hands had been warm on his face, grounding and gentle, in complete contrast to Harvey Specter, best Closer, immaculate suited Lawyer. It had been Harvey, Mike's other half, soft and gentle and caring and it had taken Mike's breath away as Harvey had steered them both towards his bedroom, gentle pressure against Mike's lower back.
Harvey had touched him in a way that no one ever had, hands shaking slightly as he had pushed Mike's shirt off his shoulders, fingers running down his arms.
"God Mike…I…" Harvey had stumbled over his words and Mike had blinked, his hands on Harvey's shirt buttons stilling, the knowledge that Harvey had known and been waiting for Mike to catch up had hit him hard like a punch to the gut.
"I'm sorry," Harvey had hooked his fingers under Mike's chin, tilted his head up and kissed his neck, his stubble rasping against Mike's skin.
"It's ok," he had muttered, winding his arms around Mike and pulling him close with one hand flat against his back.
Harvey had pushed him flat, tugged his pants off and covered Mike with his body, surprisingly gentle hands touching him, spreading out over his ribs, thumbs running along the groove in the centre of Mike's chest. Mike had felt his skin buzzing, in a different way to when Trevor had touched him and it had taken Mike all of two seconds to realise it wasn't just different, it was better.
Harvey had slicked his fingers up, pressed them cold but gentle, against Mike and pushed in and Mike had seen stars, gripped at Harvey's shoulders, just held on as Harvey moved them, twisted. Mike had whined when Harvey pulled out, a noise that he would have been embarrassed about but Harvey had kissed him, pulled his thighs apart and pushed himself back in and Mike had felt a sense of home and sense of finally. That this was it, there was no going back now, not when he knew Harvey was his.
"Mine," Harvey had said darkly, quietly, against Mike's mouth as he leant down and pushed in deeper and Mike's fingers had skittered across sweat slick skin, trying to hold onto anything to stop himself from spinning out of control.
"Yes, God, yours."
His orgasm had almost taken him by surprise, building slowly in the pit of his stomach then suddenly breaking over him, making his whole body contract, his come hot against his chest as Harvey had groaned, dug his hands into Mike's short hair and come too, Mike's name on his lips.
It had been later, after dozing for what had seemed to Mike like hours, Harvey's hands still pressed into him, Mike's head on his chest, that Harvey had spoken.
"My parents told me when I was three," he had said, voice quiet, hands drawing the same patterns Trevor had but they weren't lazy now, they were meaningful, "made me repeat it over and over until your name was stuck in my head. They used to tell everyone they met like having a gay son was something new and a way to get one up on the neighbours," there had been a bitterness in Harvey's tone that Mike had wanted to erase and he had drawn a heart on Harvey's chest with his finger and watched as Harvey's mouth had curled into a grin and his hand covered Mike's.
"Mine thought it would be best to let me figure it out," Mike had replied, turning his face into Harvey's chest and pressing his lips to the skin he found there, peppered with hair, it tickled his nose and Harvey tightened his grip slightly. "So…you've been waiting for me?"
"I guess so," Harvey had replied, turning them both till Mike's back had been pressed into the mattress and Harvey loomed over him.
"For a long time…I'm sorry."
"Sometimes it seems like too long," Harvey had cocked his head to the side and run fingers over Mike's forehead, "I got you now though."
"Yes you do."