This chapter is RATED M!...'cause of sex...so yeah...don't read if you still giggle when an adult says the word 'sex' please :O (unless you just laugh out of the awkwardness of said adult saying it...I always do...) seriously though! You have been warned!
A.N. I'm sorry to all of you reading all my other Suits fics! I have NOT "quit" on any of them! I've just been super busy! And as for updating, I will! Soon! (I have to stop starting new stories...seriously, this is the LAST Suits fic I start until I'm done with all my others! -.-) but yeah, updating also depends on time and inspiration and right now I got inspired for this one! So yeah! Sink or Swim is most likely my next update! Any who! Since I thought this would probably just be a one shot I went a little fast from: Boss and employee to boyfriend and boyfriend to moving in to Donna squealing over them getting together! So, in this chapter, we'll go to Mikes' perspective and slow down a little to focus on his budding relationship with Harvey! Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading!
Sex is still new.
Mike shakes his head. Not that he's a virgin or anything! He still doesn't know who had spread those rumors around the office...
It's the sex with Harvey that he is still a little...precarious about. That night, when he'd slept over at Harveys' condo-now his home-they'd stumbled into a relationship.
Not sex. A relationship. Mike isn't that easy.
They'd kissed, sure, but it had been sweet and intimate and very delicate. After that incident, neither would speak about what they were to one another. They simply started spending a lot more time together. They would make excuses to see each other outside of work. Ironically enough, all of their excuses tended to be work related.
Three months into their still undefined relationship, Harvey has Mike move in with him. Sure, he's a little miffed at first; who wouldn't be? But Mike finds that he likes living with the older man. They sleep together most nights-literally sleep, counting sheep and all, nothing raunchy. Unless Mike is working a pro bono case and Harvey's solving a problem for one of the firms' important client, they have the same work schedule and get home around the same time.
One day, Mike sees Donna and Harvey conversing. They're behind glass walls, but he's an expert at reading lips by now, and he easily deducts what they're talking about. He catches a couple of 'Mike's in there and realizes Donnas' inquiring about their sex life. Harveys' brushing her off with his usual brutish charm, but she's not buying it.
This gets Mike thinking. Harvey's been surprisingly understanding so far about the no sex thing. In fact, Harvey's never even seen Mike in the nude. Mike's seen Harvey come out of the shower plenty of times with nothing but a small towel around his waist, and the sight never gets old. They've gotten frisky a lot of nights, 'sleeping' in that big bed together, entangled in the heat of those sheets.
Mike remembers the first night they went from just kisses with a little tongue and small pecks, to something more.
One Month Ago:
It's been a long day at work, for both senior partner and associate. Harvey yawns even as he steps outside the shower, and into a robe. He dries himself off, combs his hair back into perfection, and steps into a pair of jammies-a pair of plaid navy blue pants, and a gray t-shirt. Usually, he sleeps shirtless, but today the cold is particularly biting out, and Harvey's looking forward to burying himself into an avalanche of pillows and blankets with Mike tonight.
Mike is already dead asleep by the time Harvey's done in the restroom, sprawled on the bed in a long, too-baggy t-shirt that practically reaches his knees, and a pair of red and black patterned pajama pants, he looks ridiculously small.
"Scooch over, kid." Harvey says softly, as he crawls into bed, snapping, for the lights to turn off and envelop the two bodies in total darkness. As Harveys' eyes adjust to the lack of light, he stares at Mikes' sleeping face, starts robotically petting his head, feeling the soft tuffs of blond hair glide between his course fingers. Harvey has no idea where this thing with him and Mike is headed. It's only been a couple of months since they first kissed. Mike sleeps over all the time-upon Harveys' request, of course.
Harvey's never shocked to see at least half of Mikes' wardrobe in his own closet anymore. He's not surprised when he opens the cupboard in his kitchen and sees the fruity kids cereal Mike likes so much sitting next to his own brand. He's got the kids' shampoo in his shower, a second tooth brush in his bathroom cabinet-Mike practically lives here, Harvey thinks, as he leans into his face in the dark and steals a kiss.
Then another, and another, and another, until Mike stirs with a low whine. "Har'ey?"
Harvey waits until Mikes' baby blues are on him, and then speaks. "Tomorrow's Saturday." he says, very matter of factly.
Mike stares at the man for a minute longer. Being deaf means Mike can never hear pitch or tone and therefore, the only way he ever know if someone is being sarcastic or funny or serious is by the expression on a persons' face. With Harvey, it's very hard to tell at times, because it's rare that Harvey change his expressions or wear his heart on his sleeve like the majority of people Mikes' come across. He has to really look at all the little details of Harveys' face, the way the edges of his eyes wrinkle when he finds something amusing, the slight quirk of his upper lip, the lines that appear on his forehead, the pursing of his mouth, his stance, and the way his shoulders set...
"Ow." Mike touches his forehead, where Harvey has just flicked him. "What was that for?" he asks.
"You're not paying attention." he makes a big show of over enunciating his words so that Mike can keep up, which only has Mike rolling his eyes in return.
"I am too." he lies fluently. "So...what about Saturday?"
Harvey heaves a sigh and rolls over in bed with well pronounced agility, and hovers over Mikes' body. "We don't have to get up early tomorrow," he presses himself against Mikes' stomach and Mike instantly feels how hard he is and the alarm in his now-wide eyes is all too evident. Harvey rolls his eyes, leans down and steals another chaste kiss. "Don't be stupid, I know how you feel about the sex thing, let's just mess around." Harvey says easily, starts to nuzzle against Mikes' neck, leaving a trail of kisses from his ear down to his collar bone, which juts out as Mike lifts his shoulders a little, reacting to Harvey.
Harvey starts rubbing up against Mike-it's been over four months since he last had sexual contact with anyone, much less Mike, and probably two since he even masturbated. Between long, relentless hours at work and the little personal time he gets to spend with Mike, he barely has any time to himself anymore.
Mike is hard as a rock down there, and he grabs Harvey by the shoulders and brings their lips together in one single motion, thrusting his hips up to grind over Harveys erection. Harvey devours Mike, his tongue exploring every single corner, crook, and crevice of Mikes' hot, wet mouth. Harvey falls to the blonds' side, takes him into his arms, and pulls them so close together it's almost suffocating to a point.
They're breathing hard, thrusting their hips into each other, hands desperately clutching at one another, their tongues in a constant battle. Harvey palms Mikes' ass and pulls him in even closer, moves faster and faster up against the sweet warmth of Mikes' body, nearly begging for the friction, looking for release, eyes squeezed tight.
Mike gets bold, reaches in between them, slips his hand inside Harveys' pajama pants, starts stroking expertly, and Harvey can't believe it, tenses up, feels it, oh God, pleasure coursing through every single bone in his body, he almost- "No." Harvey takes Mikes' hand out of his pants, away from his cock, and shudders. He hasn't leaked so much precum since his adolescent years and he's shocked that he almost lost control so soon.
Mike's chest is still heaving, his eyes clouded with lust, when he looks up at his lover, a question written on his face.
"Almost came." Harvey explains with a quirky frown.
"That's kind of the point." Mike says, squirming now, his own erection standing at full attention, pitching an obvious tent in his pants.
"You've barely touched me, it's ridiculous." Harvey expands.
Mike chuckles in a cheeky way that makes Harvey want to kiss him senseless again, and so he does. They kiss long and hard-hard enough to leave bruises on each others' lips. Mike looks stunning in the moonlight showering him from the reflection of the window, blue eyes dazed, lips slightly parted, slightly bruised, very pink, very welcoming-Harvey kisses him again and again until they're rubbing against one another again, in an almost desperate manner that's un-befitting of the great Harvey Specter. They clumsily reach down for each others' erections and start stroking like mad, both letting out nearly stifled gasps of pleasure, thrusting into each others' hands with a quickened pace, breathing hard.
Until they lose it.
"Fuck!" one of them screams out, before the overwhelming release of an orgasm takes them both out.
Present:
Mike blushes just thinking about-especially in the office-but that's honestly as far as they've gone. Hand jobs and fumbling around bed like teenagers whenever they're not too tired or busy with work. Mike wonders if it's enough for Harvey. If he's enough for Harvey.
He can't help but doubt it a lot of the time. Harvey's way out of his league. Mike's been a nerdy kid growing up in the city his entire life. Harvey's the jock-type from suburbia with big ambitions and a wicked smile. The two things don't mix together! Maybe in romance films, they do, but, Mike reminds himself, this isn't a summer blockbuster.
Mike sighs and wonders why he's thinking about all this nonsense anyway. He looks at the huge stack of papers still on his desk, the lamp on the corner on, to illuminate the millions of files he still has to look over tonight, and sighs again. Harvey's been riding him hard-no sexual innuendo intended-these last four days, over the Jetson case, and it's been tough on every one in the firm. Particularly because Harvey and Louis are supposed to be collaborating on this case. So of course, they've made it a huge competition. Louis and his-what?-twenty associates, versus Harvey and his one tiny associate who hasn't slept in days.
The Jetson case involves two half-siblings who'd both inherited their late fathers' company and all of his properties. It had been simple enough at first. Make the brothers come to an agreement wherein both parties were content. However, after two days, it was obvious to everyone working the case that Isac Jetson and Erin Jetson absolutely abhorred one another and could barely handle being in the same room.
Their father had been one of the firms' most prominent client, with the largest estate and Jessica was stressing Harvey and Louis out to get it settled soon; in turn, Louis was stressing his associates to go through all of the estates, while Harvey was pressuring Mike to find anything among the hundreds and hundreds of files that represented everything that was the Jetson Corporation that might help the case.
All this, while Harvey and Louis were stuck in individual rooms talking to their now individual clients. Harvey got Isac, the older brother, and Louis got Erin.
Kyle, Greg, and Harold are the chosen leaders for all of the associates on Louis' team, and Mike swears they take shifts coming over to his cubicle to bug the hell out of him.
He does the work of several associates in half the time, and Louis finds it absolutely necessary to point this out to all of the other associates in the bullpen while he reams them all out about their short-comings compared to Harveys' "golden boy"-this, he has been doing for the past three days.
Mike sighs fruitlessly as a random associate shoves past him roughly on his way to the break room. Needless to say, every single associate now harbors only disdain for Mike. He's been "accidentally" shoved, pushed, nearly tripped, and stepped on thrice. This week alone, since the competition level between Harvey and Louis increased, Mike's lunch has been stolen twice. He's learned not to leave it in the break room fridge anymore.
Mike tries to tell Harvey, but Harvey brushes him off both times, gives him that look that says all too clearly how much of a bother he's being. Mike huffs, he doesn't need Harvey to intervene, he can handle the associates and all this never ending work and Louis all by himself, he decides.
Louis is just done giving the associates another "pep" talk, pointing out how slow everyone is compared to Harveys' "pup", and exits the room, shaking his head. Mikes' more than half way through his pile while his group of associates has still just barely made a dent through their one pile of estates.
Kyle Durant, Louis' protege', glares at Mike as he passes his desk, flips him the bird in a very juvenile fashion, mocks very slowly, enunciating his words, "Can you read this sign language, pretty boy?"
Mike rolls his eyes, "I'm deaf, not daft; leave me alone."
Kyle sets his jaw, "Stop being smart with me."
"Can't help what I am." Mike blinks innocently. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to finish up." He swivels in his seat and starts going through the files in front of him again.
Kyle marches off, obviously upset, and Mike's glad he didn't stay and continue their void conversation, because his head feels like it's about to explode any minute. Mike groans inwardly at the thought of his brains and membrane splattered across his desk, all over the corporation papers-Harvey would murder him.
Two days later Mike cracks the entire thing open by finding a loophole in the infinity of papers that states if there is a problem between the two brothers over the company, that it be sold to their rivals, unless the men could solve it and split the corporation amongst one another with civility.
"Jackpot." Harvey says, his grin wide; he pats Mike on the shoulder on his way out to show Louis and the two brothers what his associates found and gloat about his win, of course. He fails to notice the utter weariness Mike is carrying on his shoulders or the pained look on the kids' face or the way his balance has been off for the past couple of days.
Louis would kill to have Mike as his own personal associate. The kids' a whiz. He hates the fact that Harvey won their little competition, and hates the fact even more, that Harvey got to Mike first.
He hands over the envelope of cash they had bet over this time begrudgingly. "You finally gonna' let that machine you have working for you get some R&R? Kid looks like shit." he comments out of sheer observation, and sees the way Harvey starts at this news.
"Mike's fine."
"Even I let my guys go home before midnight this week, you've been running Ross ragged since we got the Jetson case. I was in the break room just a couple of hours ago getting some coffee when your little associate stumbled in and took a dive face first onto the floor. He said he tripped, but I doubt it. Send him home; he looks exhausted."
Harvey looks taken back. Louis the voice of reason and compassion? That's new. Harvey realizes what a rare gem that is, and that Mike must have looked absolutely terrible to get Louis to start talking like that. Harvey curses and without another word the the attorney, he starts making his way back to his office, where he last saw Mike.
Harvey doesn't really understand people. He works tirelessly when he's on a case and he expects it of everyone else. But Louis is right; Mike Ross is like a machine, and at work Harvey sees him as such, stops looking at the kid as someone he shares a bed and home with. On his way to his office, Harvey stops at Mikes cubicle, when he sees him there, organizing a few things on his desk. "I'm calling Ray to pick you up. Go home and sleep; you're of no use to me like this." Harvey says, and later, in a hospital waiting room, he'll remember those cold words and swear he hadn't meant it the way they had sounded. He'd meant to say "You look tired, go home, get some rest, I'll be there as soon as I'm done with the paper work. I lov-" something along those lines, possibly. Harvey could never get these things right.