Author's note: Originally written for Livejournal suits_meme. The prompt was 'Mike handling a client who only speaks French while Harvey has no clue how to deal with her.' I didn't want to leave my readers clueless too so I translated the French bits into English : )
Harvey managed to bite back another sigh that had been threatening to leave his mouth. He couldn't sigh in front of a client. He had to show confidence to the old lady that was enjoying her tea across the coffee table.
Harvey had met many different types of clients. He knew how to read people and it didn't take much to satisfy, or at least to smooth the ruffled feathers of, the clients. His clients were known to walk into his office with an unhappy face and to walk out of his office with a sigh of relief, thanking whichever God they believed in for sending Harvey Specter to them.
However, Harvey was facing a challenge that he hadn't faced in a long time. The lady seemed to be lovely, really; she wore a very warm, pleasant smile on her face and pinched him on the cheek as if he was her favorite grandson. The only problem was that she only spoke French. Unfortunately, Harvey had learned only a little bit of German in high-school, and the few French words that he knew were some names of bread and brands of perfume. Foreign languages were certainly not his forte.
The lady didn't seem to be speaking about her will yet, but even if she was, there was no way that Harvey would know anyway. So Harvey just sat there prettily, nodding his head when she took a sip of her tea and saying 'Oui' whenever he felt like it.
"Excuse me, Madame. Let me fetch someone who might be able to help us." Harvey put on his most polite smile and tried to get up. But the lady made a gesture with her hand for him to sit back down, so Harvey had no other choice but to comply.
Another five minutes passed as the lady excitedly told him about something in rapid French. Harvey had caught the word 'croissant' so he thought that she was telling him about a highly exciting trip to the local bakery, but then he heard the word 'escargot' in the very next sentence so he wasn't sure anymore.
"Oui, oui, Madame. Je agree." Harvey was proud that his sentence contained only one English word.
Knock-knock.
"Excuse me, Harvey. I've got some help." Donna saw Harvey excuse himself and walk towards her with the most thankful expression she had ever seen on his face.
"You're going to get a bonus for this." He reminded Donna.
Then he reminded himself that he should give the helper a dirty French kiss as soon as he got the chance; as long as it wasn't Louis, of course.
"Mike? What are you doing here?" Harvey looked behind Donna and Mike to see who was there to help him out.
"I'm here to help. Have you guys started to talk about her will yet?"
"You speak French?"
"Oui, chéri(sweetie)."
"How did I not know about this?" Harvey pretended to be mad even though his insides had just melted at the way Mike pronounced the French 'r'.
"You can punish me later. Right now, we have a client waiting in your office, mon chouchou(my cute little thing)." Mike made sure that his lips made the perfect 'oo' shape and didn't miss Harvey's stare linger on his lips. This was going to be fun.
"Bonjour, Madame. Enchanté. Je travaille avec Harvey. Vous pouvez m'appeller Michaël(Good afternoon, ma'am. Nice to meet you. I work with Harvey. You can call me Michael)." Michael kissed the lady's hand and sat down on the couch next to Harvey.
"Ah, Michaël! Mon petit-fils s'appelle Michaël aussi(Ah, Michael! My grandson's name is Michael too)."
"C'est vrai, Madame? Il a quel âge?(Really, ma'am? How old is he?)"
Harvey gaped, for the lack of a better word, at his associate who seemed to enjoy a smooth conversation with the lady. At some point, the lady opened her purse and took out a small photo album and showed Mike some pictures of a young boy.
"Comme il est mignon! Il a vos yeux!(He's so cute! He has your eyes!)" Mike exclaimed.
Then Harvey saw the lady pinch Mike's cheek and he knew that he had been replaced.
Later in the evening, Harvey was preparing dinner in the kitchen while Mike finished the client's paperwork on the kitchen table. Mike had managed to take care of the client without Harvey's help. Harvey was quite proud to see him grow up as a lawyer even though it was hard to focus on their interactions when he had to squeeze the folder on his lap every time French words came out of Mike's lips.
"So, are you going to tell me how you learned that impossible tongue-torturing language?" Harvey asked as he checked the temperature of the oven. He was making some tongue-soothing steak as a reward for his associate.
"You really want to know?" Mike asked as he grabbed another legal form.
"Well, I just asked, didn't I?"
"You won't like the answer."
Harvey turned around and faced Mike with oven mittens on both hands. "Try me."
"I know for sure that you won't like it."
"You think you know that much about me just because you're sleeping with me?"
"That's exactly why you won't like it when I tell you I learned it from my French boyfriend."
Harvey couldn't stop himself from slamming the door of the oven.
"Told you so." Mike mumbled and got back to his paperwork.
"So, did he tutor you in a nice café or something?" Harvey tried not to think of other terrible scenarios.
"Nah, he tutored me in bed with plenty of incentives. I loved listening to him talking dirty in French. He used to growl such complicatedly sexy words in my ears and I'd fall for him all over again. But then you don't do jealousy, do you, Harvey?"
When Mike looked up with a glint of amusement in his eyes, he saw a very dangerous-looking Harvey. 'Oops, perhaps I pushed it too far.'
Harvey threw the mittens on the table. "From now on, you're going to talk to me in French in bed."
"But you won't understand me!"
"I'll figure it out. We'll just have to prolong our sessions until I get it, won't we? And, starting today, you're going to tutor me how to speak French."
"In a nice café?" Mike grinned, already knowing what Harvey would say.
"No, in here." Harvey grabbed the front of Mike's T-shirt and dragged him out of the kitchen and into the bedroom.
"Harvey, I still haven't finished the paperwork for Madame Dubois!"
"You can do that later. Now speak." They landed on Harvey's bed with Harvey on top.
"What do you want me to say?"
"Let's skip the alphabets, shall we?" Harvey started to pepper kisses on the side of Mike's neck as he felt Mike's hands play with his hair.
"Hmm, then what should I teach you… Oh! You should learn this one. Repeat after me. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?(Do you want to sleep with me?)"
Harvey gave him a skeptical look. "Moulin Rouge, really?"
"What's wrong with Moulin Rouge?"
'Ah, that 'r' sound again.' Harvey felt the heat rise under his skin. "Say that again."
"What? Moulin Rouge?"
"Yeah, say something longer now."
"Harvey, tutoring doesn't work that way."
"No English in bed, remember?"
Mike wondered how he got himself into this situation. One minute, Donna had been looking for someone who spoke French. The next minute, an old lady was pinching his cheek every other minute- both of his cheeks were still sore. Then the next minute, Harvey was giving him a dirty French kiss in the corner of the office, and now he was pinned down on Harvey's bed with Harvey licking and kissing every inch of his neck.
"Harvey… Do you really want me to teach you French or you want me to whisper sweet nothings in French?"
Harvey had the decency to look slightly offended. "Of course I want you to teach me French. I'm not a shallow person who just wants to hear dirty French words in bed."
Mike almost asked 'Are you sure about that?', but given his position, he didn't see it as a tactically useful strategy. He pondered for a moment and decided to take control of the situation.
"Oh well, then we're going to do this my way."
Mike flipped them over and smiled down at Harvey. It wasn't often that his boss was turned on so easily.
"Eager to tutor me, aren't we?" Harvey ran his hands up and down Mike's back as soon as Mike lost his shirt.
"Parlez-vous français, monsieur? It means 'Do you speak French, sir?'" Mike explained as he got rid of Harvey's shirt and traced his ribs with his fingers. Harvey's body was already radiating heat.
"I learn by repetition." Harvey wanted to kiss Mike but he knew that Mike needed his mouth to keep talking, so he opted to kiss his shoulders.
"Parlez-vous fran…" Mike gasped as Harvey bit a spot on his right shoulder. Harvey only bit him when he was incredibly turned on. The fact that Harvey was turned on that much turned Mike on.
"Oh, Harvey…"
"In French."
"Arvey…"
"Damn it." Harvey grabbed Mike's face and kissed him with so much passion that Mike felt as if his soul was leaving him through his mouth.
Four days had passed and Mike was starting to regret telling Harvey that he spoke French. Apparently, his boss didn't know how to resist him when he spoke the romantic language. It was so obvious that Harvey was trying to make him speak French whenever he got the opportunity, but Mike never really learned how to get mad at the guy even though Harvey was becoming borderline obsessed about it. Besides, he enjoyed seeing Harvey's eyes turn into a darker shade of brown whenever he moaned a French word.
But given the almost superhuman amount of sex they had in the past four days, Mike knew that he needed to get some rest. The only problem was that today was a Saturday, which meant that he and Harvey were going to spend pretty much the whole day together.
While they brushed their teeth right next to each other,
"Mike, who was that French actor who urinated on the plane?"
"Gérard Depardieu." Mike was wrong to think that he would have some peace for three minutes while he brushed his teeth.
While Harvey made pancakes and Mike made eggs for breakfast,
"Mike, what do we call those movies with a dark, cynical atmosphere?"
"Film noir."
While Harvey arranged his DVD collection and Mike watered the plants,
"Mike, what was that famous Japanese band that celebrated their 20th anniversary last month?"
"L'Arc~en~Ciel."
"Say that again?"
"L'Arc-en-Ciel, Harvey, L'ARC-EN-CIEL!"
Mike exploded but Harvey found him hotter than usual and shut him up with a fierce kiss.
The weekend had somehow passed without their private parts falling off their bodies. Mike considered it a small miracle and visited his grandmother as often as possible to stay out of Harvey's reach. He had whined to her about Harvey's new obsession, but she was happy to know that Harvey appreciated the fact that Mike was more than just a pretty face.
'Try to enjoy it, Mikey. You may not have felt it before, but that's being loved.'
Mike thought about his grandmother's words. Perhaps she was right; she was always right. Harvey wasn't obsessed with just anybody speaking French. They had watched French films with subtitles together and Harvey hadn't shown any sign of being affected by the seductive language.
'But it's not like I have a particular accent!' Mike thought to himself while he hid in Harvey's walk-in closet, ironing his suits.
'Besides, let's say that I'm totally irresistible while speaking French, doesn't Harvey physically need a break? I'm much younger than him and I'm exhausted! Perhaps I should sign up for that cardio class too.'
Knock-knock.
"Why is the door locked, Mike?"
Mike panicked as Harvey's voice came through the door. "Because… I'm ironing!"
"I am aware of that, but that doesn't answer my question."
"Because… ironing can be dangerous! I don't want to accidentally iron you!" Mike knew how ridiculous he sounded, but he couldn't think of a good excuse.
"Are you hiding from me, Mike?"
"What? No! Why would I do that?"
"Good. Then I'm sure you don't mind opening up."
Mike let out a sigh and got up from the floor.
'That's being loved.' His grandmother's words rang in his ears.
He unlocked the door and came face to face with the man that he loved.
"Hi."
"Hi." Mike couldn't help but smile at the nice sight that was Harvey Specter wearing a black button-down shirt and tight black jeans.
"Wait a second. I've never seen these jeans before. How could you hide such tight ones from me?"
"For the same reason that you hid how you knew how to speak French."
Mike gasped. "Don't tell me a past boyfriend of yours has bought you these!" He hooked his fingers on the belt loops and pulled Harvey closer.
Harvey launched Operation Payback. "He used to have so much trouble getting me out of these, you know. In the end, he wouldn't bother pulling them down all the way. He'd just…"
Harvey smirked as Mike started to kiss him fervently. They had sported kiss-swollen lips at work all week and here they were, kissing again.
"Mike…"
"If you're going to ask me about some French stuff again, I need to know that you won't jump me after I answer you."
"Excuse me?"
"I want it written! I'm sore, Harvey!"
"Well, then how about we go back to how my past boyfriend had…"
"Harvey!"
"All right. I promise I'll leave you alone. I could borrow your hand though."
"Harvey!"
Harvey decided to stop teasing his associate as the latter glared at him with dark, narrowed eyes. He liked it better when those eyes were full of bright colors. So he took Mike's hand in his and led him out to the balcony. The air was fresh and the soft breeze tickled them on the nose.
"Mike, what was that film where Natalie Portman dated a blind guy?"
Mike couldn't believe this. It was happening all over again. "Paris, je t'aime(Paris, I love you)?"
"Paris what?"
Mike smiled. He knew where this was going. "Je t'aime."
"I didn't get it. Say it again?"
Mike's hand left Harvey's grip only to crawl up to Harvey's neck. He gently pulled Harvey down and whispered in his ear.
"Je t'aime, Harvey Specter. Je t'aime."