Asphyxiation, Baseball, Cardiac Tamponade, Dad (for the night), Early Mornings, Fracture, Gunshot, Hypotension, Illnesses, Joint Pain, Kidney Transplant, Lumbago, Myocardial Infarction, Nightmares, Oncocytoma, Panic Attack, Quitting Smoking, Ribs, Stroke (Cerebral), Tourniquet, Uncle Harvey, Vertigo, Wheelchair, X-Ray Therapy, Yelling, Zopiclone

I was heavily considering doing Jaundice (as offered by a guest) but Joint Pain was a common suggestion and well… I figured some sweet relatively harmless fluff was due after the last chapter

Also, thank you for all the comments! They were every bit as sweet as they always are!

J is for Joint Pain

"Honestly, I'm surprised you made it this long." Mike's breath comes out in short puffs, each word ending cut off as he breathes harder in attempt to calm his body back into homeostasis. "We didn't even have to stop once for a bathroom."

Harvey pulls his leg back, attempting to ease the pull of his overly tight leg muscles. This movement, which requires him to bend just enough to cause all the vertebrae in his back to pop, makes him hiss in unexpected pain.

He waits for the wave of pain to leave before he dares to tackle another one of Mike's old man jokes. "I thought we already talked about your overuse of prostate jokes?" Speaking of, he's really got to take a leak but he would rather hold it then give Mike the self-satisfaction.

Mike simply shrugs, making his way over to Harvey's couch. "You do make it surprisingly easy." Mike turns back to face Harvey as the younger man leans against the leather couch arm. He lifts his right hand and begins ticking things off," those antacids that you think no one sees, all of your comments about comparing the younger generations to your generation, the fact that he grunts or groan whenever you stand after sitting for longer than just a couple minutes-" Mike cuts himself off. He stands straight up and a smile that Harvey instantly hates splits his face in half. "The fact that I caught you taking a nap- a nap Harvey, in your office last week… I mean come on."

Harvey simply rolls his eyes at Mike, opting to just let the younger man have his point so that the conversation can die off. "I'm going to change into clean clothes," this seems like a reasonable amount to say but then remembers he's dealing with Mike. "Do not put your feet on my coffee table or my couch."

Feeling like his expensive furniture is safe, Harvey makes his way back to his bedroom. Ever since Donna had mentioned Harvey's morning runs, Mike had decided that they were the perfect chance for 'bonding time'. Honestly, sometimes Harvey really enjoyed them and other days, mostly weekends, Mike would stay for most of the day and by the end of the day Harvey, without fail, would be minutes from homicide.

Pulling a clean shirt from his drawer he decides Mike should change too and throws an old Harvey Grad shirt on his bed. He tosses a pair of older black basketball shorts down beside them.

He really does love the kid, it's just that the reason he loves him is also the reason he often wants to shoot him. And the reason they disagree so much is the same reason Harvey finds him so… protectable. They have so much in common, it causes them to disagree… a lot. And yet Mike is so different from Harvey.

"Mike!" Harvey pulls his shirt over his head, he doesn't need to see Mike to know he has his feet kicked up on the coffee table and with the amount of time the two of them spend together, Mike has become boring and predictable. "When you're done scuffing my coffee table with your cheap dress shoes, there are clothes for you to change into. Don't want your poor excuse for hygiene skills stinking up my complex."

Mike, per his usual upbeat, obedient self, eagerly does as he's told. He passes Harvey to squeeze into his bedroom and Harvey decides to use the guest bathroom. This way, Mike will never know Harvey had to pee.

"What kind of fabric softener do you use?"

When Mike comes out of bedroom from changing, Harvey is already out. He stands in the kitchen with the freezer door open, letting the cool air bite his too hot skin.

"This shit smells amazing." Mike stops in the hallway, his left eyebrow quirked up as he watches Harvey. "What-What're you doing?"

Harvey reaches into the freezer and pulls out four ice packs. Mike watches with an odd fascination as Harvey takes the packs and tucks them under his arm. "You'll have to ask Donna for that, kid, she does most of the…" Harvey lifts his arm in the general sweep of his home," everything around here."

Mike notices the slight limp in Harvey's stride but does not call attention to it. Instead, he just watches Harvey grunt as he walks and then eases himself into the couch. The ice packs go on his kneecaps which are locked straight by the pressure he placed on them when he kicked his feet up on the coffee table. The other ice packs go to his bad shoulder and it's respected elbow. Tilting his head back with a satisfied groan Harvey finally answers Mike's last question. "The ice packs are for me… because I said so."

Mike shrugs and lands hard beside Harvey on the couch. "So, Kilgore, how long have you had joint pain?"

Brown eyes fly open and land on Mike. "Kilgore," Harvey repeats, disgust written clear in his voice and face. "This is not a Vonnegut house, Michael, and don't you dare think that I can be fooled with Breakfast of Champions."

Mike nods his understanding and lays back on the couch too, letting silence take over.

"That was a lame ass book anyways…"

Mike rolls his eyes, leave it to Harvey to think Kurt Vonnegut wrote 'lame ass books' but then again… Harvey's always been good at deceiving things he likes as things he hates. Mike leans heavily into the sofa, letting himself relax in the coziness all around him.

However, as soon as he settles down the ice pack on Harvey's shoulder delivers an icy bite through his too thin t-shirt. "Jesus," Mike moves far enough from Harvey to prevent their close proximity. "How can you stand that on your skin?"

Harvey, whose attention is more centered on the easing pain in his knees, hums for the time being. Just to shut Mike up long enough for Harvey to not bite Mike's head off for talking so damn much.

"One day," Harvey pauses for a moment, opening his left eye to peer at Mike," you'll understand… until then, use your imagination." Even with the ice packs, his pain is still aggravatingly present. This morning, he should have listened to his body. The way his knees creaked and groaned as he rose from the bed and for twenty minutes after that.

He should have told Mike to shove his morning jog up his ass and went back to bed.

"Hey, Harvey?"

"Mike."

Mike scratches at his nails, unsure of himself now. "I really do… I miss working together… sometimes. You know?"

This time Harvey doesn't open his eyes to answer Mike. He lifts his shoulder, ignoring the tenderness of it's joint and puts his arm around Mike. "I miss you too, kid."

They set in comfortable silence something that took years for the two of them to perfect. It's not until the weight of Mike's head leans against Harvey's forearm that Harvey moves. He peeks at the younger man and smiles softly when he sees that Mike has fallen asleep.

In his own loving way, the same way that Harvey expresses a love of any kind, Harvey swears towards the younger man now laying against him. "Damn kid." Nothing in his tone could give away the sincere and loving way he speaks but that's just because he's Harvey Specter. It's just a good thing Mike's asleep otherwise Harvey would probably have to shred a new batch of business cards reading something taunting about Harvey being the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz or something equally as coy.

His life would be so much easier if this wry little shit hadn't stumbled into his life with a suitcase full of weed and yet… for some reason, he'll keep him around. There's something oddly parental about their situation. Either way, Harvey will deny it all until the day he dies.