Mike is swiftly becoming a fan of the massive glass walls of Harvey's apartment, after a while of "these are ridiculous", "who need's windows this big" and "seriously Harvey, who cleans these?" It's almost calming to look out over the city whilst working, Harvey's possessive legs wrapped around his, (yes legs can be possessive, Mike's slowly learning that everything can be possessive when it comes to Harvey). They're going through a brief, well Mike's going through a brief and Harvey is trailing his hand up Mike's chest, sipping at whiskey, and every now and then Harvey will stop Mike from talking by hooking his fingers under his chin, pulling his head round and kissing him, then gets him to start again by an almost hard squeeze at the base of his dick.

It's proving a very effective motivational tool.

Harvey's hand is a solid weight against Mike's chest when he stops it moving, lays it flat against the skin and presses gently, like he's trying to pull Mike back although Mike's back is pretty much glued to Harvey's chest right now and unless Harvey takes the opportunity to actually fuck Mike, he doesn't think they could get much closer, and he whispers "stop" darkly in Mike's ear, and Mike stops immediately, going still and quiet and letting his head fall back against Harvey's chest.

They've been doing this for weeks now. The lessons are pretty much every day (Lessons like "don't move when I tell you to be still", "don't always assume you'll get what you want", and Mike's personal favourite, "I will fuck you when I want to and not a moment before") and Mike's never been so fucking tired in his entire life. He's also never been so turned on most of the time in his entire life either. Seems like he spends most of his time now rearranging his pants to hide a semi hard on. He loves the thrill, the jolt of pleasure down his spine whenever Harvey uses that tone, the way Harvey will pin him down and fuck him senseless till he can't remember his own name, only to stop and have him beg Harvey to let him come. Harvey is hard and dark and possessive and he gets this look in his eyes when he catches Mike talking to Rachel, and the bruises on his neck are more pronounced the next day. Mike loves it, can't get enough truth be told (he's not sure what that says about him).

But it's the quiet moments that surprise Mike, the "couply" moments that make him wonder what the hell is going through Harvey's head, and what the hell they're doing, and how the hell, if this ends, Mike is going to be able to carry on like nothing's happened. The times when Harvey runs his hands through Mike's hair, whispers "mine" into his ear and kisses him gently, or the time when he took Mike home, kissed his forehead and tucked him into bed and left him for two days to sleep off a particularly hard week and a killer headache (Mike had loved the way Harvey reacquainted himself with Mike on the Monday evening, kissing over his skin and hands everywhere, Mike's name on his lips). The business cards, the breakfasts, the fact that the Concierge knows Mike's name now, the small seemingly insignificant touches at work that let Mike know exactly what Harvey is thinking.

It spins him around and if Mike wasn't as level headed as he is, he might be totally and utterly in love with Harvey by now.

But he is, so he's not.

Anyway, he stopped, was the point, and Harvey takes the brief from his hands, places it on the coffee table and manoeuvres Mike till their face to face and Mike's hands are pressing into Harvey's shoulders.

"That kind of has to gets done by Monday and I'm only a quarter through," Mike says, and Harvey crooks an eyebrow at him, his fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck and Mike, like the girl that he is, shivers slightly.

"You're turning down sex for Louis's brief?"

"Well when you put it like that..." Mike replies, leaning down and pressing his lips to Harvey's. Its like an instant reaction, Harvey's fingers tighten at the back of Mike's head, his body rising up against Mike's and Mike can't get enough of it, can't get enough to kissing Harvey and touching him. The whole world spins and Mike finds himself on his back staring up at Harvey, he blinks and Harvey grins down almost dangerously.

"Lesson number 57, Rookie..." Harvey says and Mike snorts, choking slightly as Harvey grinds his hips down at the same time, an eyebrow raised over one eye.

"You're making these numbers up aren't you?" Mike asks and Harvey winds his fingers into his hair and pulls his head to the side, biting at Mike's pulse. Mike hisses and arches, wrapping a leg around Harvey.

"Don't question the teacher," Harvey bites out in that tone that makes Mike go boneless.

"Sorry...Sir," he replies with a grin and Harvey growls slightly as he leans down and kisses him hard.

Harvey doesn't get the chance to impart the lesson.

And somewhere between that growly kiss and the way Harvey practically orders him not to come until he says so, the bites on his neck and the bruises on his hips, Mike gets to thinking that maybe a safe word might be in order soon. Especially now that Harvey keeps fucking him into submission and dragging orgasms out of him like Mike's a 16 year old boy with a ten second recovery time (when he's quite clearly not and sometimes all he can do is grunt and shudder in Harvey's arms, his teeth practically biting through his lip).

And because Mike's mind if never quiet unless Harvey is deep inside (which he isn't right now) it sometimes goes into places he would really rather not be.

"Urgh," he gags as something occurs to him and Harvey lifts his head from where he was sucking a bruise onto Mike's shoulder and glares down at him.

"You ok?" There is a hint of worry but it's mostly confusion, probably because Mike has never complained about Harvey's cannibalistic ways before. Quite the opposite actually, he would wear the bruises with pride if Harvey let him.

"No," Mike replies pinching the bridge of his nose and Harvey's forehead wrinkles as he looks down at him and his muscles tense like he's about to move. Mike grips at him harder though and tries to reach up and kiss him.

"What's the matter?" Harvey asks again, moving slightly out of reach and using that tone that he gets when he wants Mike to talk and that's not fair, because he knows Mike can't say no when Harvey uses that tone. Mike sighs.

"Nothing...," he tries again only to be rewarded with Harvey snorting and rolling off him, standing up and stretching, and Mike kind of loses his train of thought when confronted with Naked Harvey but Harvey frowns at him, and turns away and the train comes back, "...ok fine, I was just thinking about safe words and that it should be "Louis" cos there's no way I would ever say his name in bed by accident, then that got me thinking about Louis's safe word, and why he would need one and now the image of Louis in nothing but a gimp mask is burned onto my retinas...I feel sick," Mike finishes and looks at Harvey with a grin, expecting...well expecting anything but his blank expression and Harvey's arms crossed over his chest so his biceps look huge and lickable and Mike really should pay attention.

"Why would you need a safe word?" Harvey asks carefully and Mike gets the feeling like he's said something wrong, and its not the wrong "oh I'm getting punished" good wrong, its the "shit I fucked up" wrong wrong.

"I dunno I just..."

"Mike," Harvey's voice is carefully controlled and he's just out of Mike's reach, "if this is too much for you..." Mike stands, wonders how the hell Harvey would ever think Mike thought this was too much, is Harvey not the one that keeps him in check, that stops him from sinking to his knees in the office and pulling Harvey dick into his mouth. Mike is too far in with Harvey now and he's pretty sure if Harvey asked him to jump from the window right now, he might take a second to think about it, but he'd do it. Because it's Harvey that asked and Mike is his bitch, remember?

"No, no, no, I just..." he trails off shrugging and Harvey turns away from him, goes to the kitchen and pulls open the fridge. Mike plasters himself to Harvey's back, wrapping his arms around and he feels Harvey tense, "I have no idea what I'm doing which is unusual for me," Harvey unclasps Mike's hands and turns, "not unheard of but unusual and..." Harvey claps his hand over Mike's mouth and there is a hint of a isomething/i in his eyes that makes Mike feel suddenly warm, because something is better than the nothing that had been there before.

"You tell me the second this gets too much, you don't need a safe word for that, I wont...I wouldn't..." Mike nods against the hand over his mouth and Harvey slips it down, curls it around the back of Mike's neck. Mike leans forward and nips at Harvey's jaw line. It's Saturday afternoon and they, thank god, didn't have any work to do apart from Louis's brief this weekend and Harvey hasn't shaved, his track pants (apparently he does own clothes other than suits) are hanging low on his waist. There's a smattering of stubble across his face that makes kissing him even more...interesting.

"Ok," he says and Harvey graces him with a brief smile, its tight and slightly forced but his eyes still crease up at the corners and Mike runs his fingers over the skin there.

"Listen, I think you should maybe go home," Harvey says suddenly, stepping out of Mike's grasp and Mike feels cold.

"What? Why?" He asks desperately, because, yes he is a love sick teenager who's being sent home and he didn't mean what he said about safe words like Harvey took it and Mike, for all his intelligence, sometimes says the wrong thing. "Harvey..."

"You have work to do, and I'll only distract you," he replies, grinning slightly in that wolfish way that makes Mike's knees go weak, but its still forced and his back and shoulders are tense when he turns away.

He may know what Harvey sounds like when he comes, or the noise he makes when Mike swallows him down whole and hums around him. He may know the way his fingers tighten against Mike's skin when Mike lets go and gives Harvey pretty much everything, he may know how many times Harvey can make him come in one night of interrupted sex (its six by the way), but Mike doesn't really know him all that well, at all really. He has no idea how Harvey is taking the subject of a safe word, or why he seems to be irritated, hurt even. All he does know is that Harvey's eyes go dark when Mike submits and he uses that knowledge to his advantage as he wraps his fingers around Harvey's wrist and sinks to the floor by his feet.

"Mike..." Harvey says, curling his hand around Mike's, his eyes going dark and heavy (see? Mike knows things). Mike knows that Harvey needs to know that he trusts him right now. And a few weeks ago if Mike had been asked if he would give up that much of himself to anyone, he would have told them to take a long walk off a short pier, but its Harvey, iHarvey/i who's looking at him right now like he's hurt, Harvey who needs Mike to take care of him right now. Even if that means playing with the power balance between them (not that Harvey's in power…obviously).

"Harvey...please," Mike's not sure what he's asking for, but Harvey gives it to him anyway, cups his hand around his face, pulls slightly as he bends down and kisses him hard. The angle is awkward, Harvey's nearly bent double and Mike is stretched up on his knees but Harvey pushes his tongue into Mike's mouth and Mike whimpers (God he's never going to get used to whimpering), his fingers curling around Harvey's wrists.

"Do you trust me Mike?" Harvey asks quietly, speaking right against Mike's lips and Mike nods, lets out a small noise that could be a yes, could be another whimper and Harvey presses his fingers in behind Mike's ears. "You trust me at work?" Harvey asks and Mike nods the best he can, "do you trust me here?"

"Yes," Mike manages to say, breathe, gasp, whatever, and Harvey stands up straight, pushes his pants down his thighs. His fingers curl around his dick and he strokes once, palming over the tip and running his hand back down and Mike's mouth waters, his eyes transfixed. Harvey is half hard already and Mike has the usual thrill of pleasure at the thought that he did that, he turned Harvey on. Harvey presses a thumb under his chin and lifts Mike's gaze, running his thumb over Mike's lips. Then his hand is curling around the back of Mike's neck and pulling him forward and Mike has just enough time to brace his own hands on Harvey's thighs as he opens his mouth and sucks the tip of Harvey's dick into his mouth. Harvey's hand tightens and Mike slides down, his tongue curling around the hard flesh as Harvey lets out a muttered "Jesus" and pushes his hips forward.

Its probably going to take Mike a while to get used to the fact that he likes sucking dick, well Harvey's specifically, because he never got much thrill out of it before. Before it had always been perfunctory, a means to an end, more often than not he was wasted, high on drugs and horny as hell and Trevor had been stronger. But Harvey grips his hair tightly like he cant help it, then strokes his head with his strong fingers, makes noises in the back of his throat and Mike finds himself getting hard from just that. And the fact that he's on his knees for Harvey Specter (yes, he is beginning to worry about himself). His pants are tight, his dick straining, almost uncomfortably so and he shifts to push his hand into the waist band and Harvey grips both hands in his hair and tugs gently. Mike pulls off his dick with a pop that has Harvey's eyes fluttering but then the hard look is in his eyes and he flicks his gaze down to Mike's hand where its struggling with the button one handed.

"No," he growls, and Mike immediately drops his hands. ""Keep your hands on me, Mike," Harvey says and Mike wraps his hands around Harvey's hips, drawing back up onto his knees. Harvey runs a hand across his face, curls his fingers into Mike's hair and stares down at him, "good boy."

Back when this first all started, when Harvey first purred "good boy" at him, darkly against his ear, Mike could have blamed his absolute hero worship on the guy for his gut wrenching reaction, for the fact that his dick twitched and he wanted nothing more that to make those words come out of Harvey's mouth again and again, no matter what it took. Now though, he has to admit that its more than that, its Harvey that needs this and Mike is more than willing to give it to him.

He's not sure what that says about him, and to be honest he doesn't really care.

Harvey' slides his thumb into Mike's mouth next to his dick and Mike hums, swallows, breathes in deep and presses his nose to Harvey's stomach. Harvey curses, tightens his grip in Mike's hair to this side of painful and Mike can feel a tear squeeze out of his eye and roll down his cheek. Harvey catches it with his other thumb, smears across his cheek. Its almost in a loving way and Mike closes his eyes, can't look at Harvey anymore because if he does he's probably going to pull off his dick and start spouting poetry or something because this is the single most intense moment of his life and he has Harvey to thank for that.

He ignores the way Harvey's hands tug at his hair, trying to pull him off, the way his muscles bunch under Mike's hand and he just keeps going, because Harvey needs this as much as he does. Mike curls his fingers around Harvey's hips, digs them in hard enough that he knows there'll be bruises tomorrow and hums, swallows, and Harvey grunts, pushes his hips into the back of Mike's mouth and comes hot down Mike's throat. Mike swallows everything, which he never used to do, another testament to the way Harvey has affected his life so far, and pulls off, his pants achingly hard around his own dick. Harvey groans, hauls him to his feet and Mike whimpers again. God he's really got to stop doing that because its kind of pathetic, and Harvey kisses him hard, pushes him back against the kitchen counter and rocks his hips into his. Mike groans this time, a much more manly sound and Harvey pulls away, mutters "god Mike" against his mouth and curls his hands under his arms, lifts him up onto the counter, "taste like…fuck, the things you do to me."

If Mike wasn't painfully hard right now, he would take offence at the way Harvey had lifted him like he weighed nothing. But to be honest, he doesn't really care, not when Harvey gets a hand into Mike's pants and curls his strong, elegant fingers around his dick. Mike drags his mouth away, pulls Harvey closer till he can practically feel his heartbeat through his chest and presses his lips to Harvey's neck.

"Come on rookie, come for me," Harvey mutters, his tongue flicking out against the shell of Mike's ear and Mike gets a suddenly flash of panic that this is going to be over before he's had Harvey's dick inside him.

"No, stop," Mike gasps and Harvey freezes, pulls away instantly and there's that look on his face again, the worry, the slight hurt and Mike winds his fingers into the front of his shirt and pulls him close, breathes against his mouth. "Fuck me…please," he says and Harvey seems to relax. Mike likes to think it's the please that gets him what he wants, the way he can make it pleading rather than demanding or whining and Harvey hauls him close, worms his hands under Mike's ass and lifts him off the counter. Mike wraps his legs around his waist, and yes, you guessed it, would be offended at being carried like a girl but he's hard remember? Painfully so, and Harvey's going to fuck him and he never thought he'd be the wanton type but apparently Harvey brings all sort of things out of him.

Including the pathetic whimpering poet.

Harvey manages to drag two orgasms out of Mike, one when he's buried deep inside and Harvey's hand is around his dick, and the other with Harvey's mouth on his dick and his fingers in his ass.

Mike is utterly boneless, useless, his mind blissfully quiet for once as Harvey pulls him close and shifts, getting comfortable, his hand trailing featherlight touches up Mike's spine and Mike wriggles, because it tickles, nothing to do with wanting to feel his skin slide against Harvey's.

"You ok, Rookie?" Harvey asks, his voice quiet, scraping against his dry throat and Mike lifts his head enough to look up at him.

"Yeah, very ok, although I think you broke me this time," he says as he stretches and feels his muscles burn, the odd ache where only Harvey makes him ache, the dull throb on his neck where a particularly hard bite was placed. Harvey snorts and closes his eyes and Mike takes the opportunity to look at him. There are still a few frown lines on his forehead, and odd tension in his features and Mike doesn't quite know how to get rid of. "What?" Harvey asks without opening his eyes and Mike actually blushes, looks away like Harvey caught him staring even though the only way Harvey knew he was still looking was the fact Mike hadn't moved.

"I was looking out the window," Mike tries and Harvey opens one eye, raises an eyebrow over it and Mike frowns, shifts, sits and crosses his legs under him. Harvey opens the other eye, crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Thing is," Mike starts and Harvey shifts. Mike puts his hand out and presses his fingers into his thigh, kneads his fingers into the muscle and Harvey stills. "Thing is Harvey, I…I've never been in uh…"

"Mike," Harvey pushes gently and Mike runs a hand through his hair.

"Ok, I've never been in control of my life, you say I am but I'm not. I wasn't. I am now and I have you to thank for that," emotion flickers across Harvey's face too quick for Mike to pick up on the meaning but he shifts again, sits up and crosses his legs as well, pressing his elbows into his knees and slotting his fingers together under his chin, like he's waiting for Mike to get to the point. "But the point is, I've never been the one in control…here," he makes a sweeping gesture and hopes that Harvey gets what he's trying to say. Harvey's eyes narrow slightly, walls coming up again and Mike hurries his words, "no what I mean is…fuck, I'm making a mess of this. Trevor took that from me and you gave it back and I don't…I can't…" whatever words are running through Mike's head, the jumble of emotions and (he's blaming it on two outstanding orgasms) sappy crap is about to come out of his mouth, Harvey stops it with his, presses their lips together and pushes Mike down, crawling over him and laying himself down, his weight comforting.

"I get it, Rookie," he says and the frown lines are gone from his forehead, even if the mention of Trevor has given his eyes a dark look.

"You do? Cos I'm not sure I do," Mike says and Harvey laughs, digs his fingers into Mike's hair, and kisses him again.

"I get it."

It should come as a surprise to him really, but it doesn't. Mike's always prided himself on being a good person who trusts and loves easily (some might say too easily, Trevor being the prime example) and it hits him one day, as Harvey squeezes at the back of his neck whilst Mike is trying to read out the imperfections from a draft contract, that he loves the way he does that, he loves kiss Harvey and loves the way Harvey whispers darkly against his ear, the way he holds him down and fucks him hard. He loves Harvey.

He's fucking in love with Harvey.

And it should freeze him to the core, should rattle his cages and whatever other analogy you want to think of because hello, in love with very male boss here, but it doesn't. Just a cool sense of calm washes over him as Harvey's fingers slip between his skin and his collar and Mike looks up at him.

"Did I tell you to stop reading?" Harvey asks and Mike stands, places the file on Harvey's desk and wraps his fingers around his tie and drags him in for a kiss.

Harvey lets out a startled noise in the back of his throat but his hands automatically frame Mike's face as he kisses him back.

"What did I say about not in work?" Harvey mutters, fingers stroking at the back of Mike's head and they're taking a huge risk here, anyone could walk past and see them wrapped around each other but Mike can't bring himself to pull away, especially not when Harvey hums contentedly, presses his fingers into a bruise on the back of Mike's neck and kisses him again.

"You broke that rule first Harvey," he replies and Harvey hums again, a sound of consent, admitting that yes ok this is his fault and he's more than happy to take the blame as long as Mike keeps kissing him.

"God...you..." Harvey says under his breath but then pulls Mike back, kisses him hard and lets him go. Mike feels more than a little shaken, his knees wobbling and his heart racing and Harvey swipes his thumb over his bottom lip and Mike just about loses it and comes right there. But Harvey lets him go completely, and Mike nearly falls. "Right, draft contract, lets go," he says, his voice a little shaky and Mike drops himself back into the chair. Harvey pets at his hair and hands him the contract, "continue."


The thing about Mike's mind is that once a thought is in there, it wont go away, eidetic memory has its perks, but its mostly just a jumble of thoughts and memories and a lot of them he would rather forget.

Like the fact that he's in love with Harvey.

Its beginning to affect his work as he starts acting like a love sick teenager, all hearts in his eyes and such and Harvey keeps giving him weird looks, asking if he's ok and even Rachel's noticed, frowning at him in that way that makes him shift guiltily. But anyway, he keeps looking longingly at Harvey like staring at him is going to make the knowledge that he's in love with him magically go away. Or make Harvey admit it first.

Ok yes, Mike is going to admit that in his most pathetic moments he kind of wishes Harvey felt the same, that they would fuck like rabbits for the rest of their lives, maybe adopt two kids and Mike would stop work and Harvey would keep them in the life they were accustomed to.

Yeah. Right.

But really, he finds himself wishing that Harvey would say something other than the odd bitten off "Mike...you..." (Mike has no idea what he means by that), or do something other than look at him sometimes like there is something else other than sex between them. Its kind of driving Mike crazy, the whole "what the hell are we doing here" question keeps running around his head and he wants to ask, but that would make him pathetic right? And Mike's not pathetic; poetry spouting and being in love with Harvey aside, of course.

They've had a tough week and Mike has spent most of it biting his tongue, trying not to let it slip, and ignoring the bone weariness that hums in the back of his head like he's brewing a migraine. Harvey seems stressed, snapping more, his "lessons" are harsher, leaving Mike shaking and not for the first time, wondering what it says about him that he loves every second of it.

They're out with clients tonight, schmoozing, entertaining, and Mike can feel Harvey's gaze on him, heavy across the bar and he looks up, catches the dark glint in them before Harvey looks away and Mike swallows around the lump that forms in his throat. The ever present sexual tension between them, due to their huge workload this week, has kicked up a notch and if Mike wasn't so tired he would he hauling Harvey's ass into the nearest bathroom stall and sucking his dick like his life depends on it.

When the clients at least leave, and Harvey foots the stupidly high bill (who knew whiskey could be that expensive?), his hand is warm against Mike's lower back as he pushes him gently through the bar, out onto the street and into the waiting car.

Harvey's dropping him off, because he, apparently, doesn't want Mike cycling through Thursday evening traffic fucking exhausted with two whiskeys running through his blood stream. (If Mike wasn't so tired he would be pleased at the concern in Harvey's voice when he says it.) And they also haven't quite reached the stage where they just sleep together and neither of them have the energy tonight to do anything other than curl up under their covers and pass out for a few hours before they do it all again tomorrow. Mike feels the words rise up in the back of his throat, and he can't stop them from falling no matter how much he wants to as they pull up outside his crappy apartment building.

Harvey's hand slips across his thigh in a way of a farewell and Mike stops, his hand on the door handle.

"I love you."

Harvey freezes, Mike freezes, hell even Ray freezes in the drivers seat and everything zeroes in on the slightly frightened yet irritatingly impassive face of Harvey and Mike wants the world to open up and swallow him whole.

"Get some sleep Mike," he says, even his voice impassive now.

"Harv..."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," Mike nods, obliviously he's not going to get anything out of Harvey tonight, and slips out of the door. The car is moving pretty much before he has a chance to slam it shut, and Mike is left standing on the sidewalk with a hollow feeling in his chest and worry gnawing in his belly.

Well, he's well and truly fucked things up now, hasn't he?