The days of the week trickled by slowly. Mike was desperate to keep up with what was going on at the firm, but Pearson, Specter, Litt wouldn't have it.
So Mike watched more movies than he cared to count (32), he endlessly perused the internet, and even wrote a research paper.
It was in the dim hours of the night that he struggled the most. When Mike closed his eyes he would see Harvey's pained expression hovering over him, or hear the haunting echo of the gunshot.
During the day he tried to keep busy, to not think about it. He still hadn't even begun to deal with the reality that he had faced death. During the day he was all smiles with the visitors, but he knew, and they knew, that it was a facade.
By the grace of God, the week came and went. It was finally time for Mike to go home…well, go to Harvey's home.
The thought sparked a flame of excitement somewhere deep within him, but he didn't want to analyze it.
Instead, he carefully got out of bed and began to pack his few belongings.
Harvey was early, as usual, and he stood silently near the door as Mike signed the final forms.
Instinctually, Mike reached for his bag, but a sharp "uh uh uh," stopped him. Harvey was next to him in an instant, picking up the heavy bag.
"I'm not helpless you know," Mike said as he walked towards the door. "And there's no way I can stay with you if you treat me like I am."
"I won't Mike, I promise, but you have to promise to do what's smart. Don't over do it just to prove your fine."
Mike huffed a laugh, "I won't."
They made it down to the car port where Ray was waiting with the car. "Nice to see you up and well Mr. Ross."
"Thanks Ray," Mike smiled, walking past the man and leaning to get into the car. Harvey was already in. Unfortunately, Mike couldn't conceal his pain as he folded his body to get into the vehicle. He let out an involuntary hiss and Harvey tried not to look at him with concern.
"You alright?"
"Yeah…yes…" Mike lied.
Ray shut the door.
The ride was pretty quiet.
Mike focused his attention out the window, staring at the city that had gone on without him for the past week. He could feel the heat of Harvey's gaze on his face, he could feel the weight of Harvey's presence next to him in the car.
When they rolled to a stop, Mike was grateful for the chance to get out and take a deep breath of fresh air.
He watched as Harvey came around the car with his bag and he smirked. "You know, I could get used to this."
"Don't," Harvey snapped with a faux glare.
The elevator opened for them and closed behind them.
Harvey's place was immaculate. "Are you sure you actually live here?" Mike asked.
"Cleanliness is next to godliness," Harvey answered, walking over to the living room and dropping Mike's bag next to the sofa. "Is this where I'm staying?" Mike asked.
"Yup."
"Are you kidding me? You have a whole fucking penthouse and no guest room?"
Harvey stopped fluffing the down pillow that was on the couch and looked over at Mike. "It's a nice couch!"
"It may be," Mike said, moving closer to Harvey, leaning against the arm of the sofa. "But it's pretty narrow…I mean…what if I fell off?"
"Are you serious?"
"Dead serious."
Harvey scowled.
"What? Too soon?"
"Yes, too soon Mike," he forcefully threw the pillow back onto the couch. "So what are you suggesting exactly?"
"Oh, I don't know…I'm sure your bed is pretty comfy."
The look on Harvey's face was absolutely priceless."Are you fucking kidding me?" he nearly yelled. "I don't know how this is going to work, because I refuse to sleep anywhere but my bed for the next week."
"I bet we could both fit," Mike smiled.
Woah, where the hell did that come from? Mike wanted to blame it on the meds, but it originated from somewhere deeper than that.
Harvey's cheeks promptly turned a beautiful shade of rose.
"Look Mike, it's late, and I'm exhausted. I spent the day doing a week's worth of work so I could take this time off."
"Are you trying to guilt trip me?"
"No, I'm trying to tell you that for tonight, I will conceded and take the couch."
"Can you say that again?" Mike asked, pulling out his phone. "You just need to say that last part, that 'I concede' part."
"Not gonna happen. Take your stuff and get ready for bed," Harvey said, pulling out some boxers and a t-shirt from Mike's bag and extending it towards his mentee.
"Yes sir," Mike saluted, taking the items and walking slowly towards the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, he emerged to the sight of Harvey sitting on his bed.
An unexpected shot of adrenaline pumped through Mike's tired body at the sight of Harvey Specter sitting on thousand dollar sheets, looking at Mike expectantly.
He took a deep breath and walked towards the bed. "You don't need to tuck me in you know…not that I'm complaining."
Harvey was taken aback a bit by Mike's mild flirting, but he didn't let it show. He chocked it up to the meds and let it go.
The seasoned lawyer stood, and pulled the sheets back. "Get in."
"Do you have a bell I could ring if I need you or something?"
"Yeah…no. If you need something, just call me," Harvey said, tossing the sheet up and turning to walk out of the room.
"Harvey wait."
"Yeah?"
"I want to seriously ask you a question…"
"Shoot."
His lips parted, closed, and then opened again as he struggled with the words. "Would you really rather I have said "you," instead of "me?" Would you rather I let you get shot instead of taking the bullet?"
"Yes Mike."
The young man shook his head. "I don't understand. Why?"
"You said 'a' question Mike, not two questions. Goodnight," he pulled the door shut, but left it open a crack.
Mike sunk into the feather-soft mattress, turned his head to the right and took a deep breath. The sheets didn't smell like Harvey at all. He changed them while Mike was getting ready for bed, but Mike wished he hadn't.
The room was comfortable and knowing that Harvey was just outside made it easier for Mike to slip into sleep.
It was with a shout that Ross awoke. A near scream twisted in Mike's throat as his mind struggled to process the amount of pain coursing through his body.
He didn't even have to twist to turn the light on. Suddenly, the room was lit and Harvey was at the bedside. "Mike, what's wrong?" he asked, panic in his eyes.
Tears streamed down Mike's face and he struggled to suppress yelps of pain. "Side…" he whispered. "I was on my side…"
"When was the last time you took the pain meds?"
"Seven p.m."
"It's 4 a.m. Mike, you should've taken them an hour ago! I'll go get them," he said, quickly disappearing and reappearing with a bottle in his hands.
Mike's hands clutched his left side and his head was thrown back against the leather headboard. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his face was scrunched up in agony. Harvey twisted open the bottle and put two pills into Mike's open mouth. He held a glass up to the cracked lips and watched Mike's adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed them.
Harvey put the glass down on the nightstand and gently sat on the edge of the bed. He watched tentatively as Mike struggled to breathe.
"Talk to me Mike."
"Hurts. Hurts to breathe. Hurts to move."
Harvey nodded, he felt completely helpless. "What can I do?"
Mike's eyes had slammed shut, his hands were still clasped over his side.
Harvey saw that red was slipping between Mike's fingers and he brought a hand to the fortress of fingers. "Let me see," he gently prodded.
Mike removed his hands and revealed a considerably sized dark red spot on the blue shirt.
"Let's get this shirt off, I want to see the wound."
Mike shook his head in protest, but Harvey was already peeling the fabric away from Mike's body. Mike leaned close to Harvey and groaned into his shoulder as the shirt was gently tugged off.
Finally he leaned back, a whimper rising from his throat as he fought the urge to roll up into a ball and scream in pain.
The bandages were soaked through, so Harvey went to get new ones.
Mike banged his head on the headboard to focus on something other than the pain, but it wasn't working.
"You already bled all over my bed, now you're trying to break the headboard?" Harvey smiled weakly.
"I'll buy you…new sheets," Mike said through gritted teeth.
"I was kidding Mike," Harvey said softly as he peeled off the soaked bandages.
The sight of it made him want to vomit. He couldn't stand that Mike was in pain, he couldn't stand that it was his fault, he couldn't stand seeing a stitched up hole in Mike's body. Atleast the stitches had held, although Mike had pulled on them considerably.
He cleaned up the area the best he could. Mike turned his head away so that Harvey wouldn't see him cry. Even though it was a little late for that.
"Those pain meds kicking in yet?"
Mike nodded gently, causing the beads of sweat to drip down his face.
His eyes were shut, but he could feel the weight of the bed shift as Harvey got up. He heard water running in the bathroom, then the bed shifted once more as Harvey sat back down.
"Come here," Harvey said, bringing a hand to Mike's chin, turning his face towards him.
The cool washcloth met Mike's hot face and it felt so damn good.
"From now on you need to set an alarm to wake up and take your pills."
"Didn't think I'd fall asleep," Mike said honestly.
"Well you did," Harvey said, continuing to dab Mike's broiling flesh with the cloth. He dabbed Mike's face, then his neck, sliding over his collarbone and descending down his chest.
Through bleary bloodshot eyes Mike studied Harvey's features. The older man was intently focused on the task at hand. He knew that beneath Harvey's cool facade was a gathering storm of emotions.
Harvey reached over and got a second rag to clean up the blood, first swiping it off Mike's body.
As Mike watched his mentor basically give him a sponge bath, the blood flow to his nether-regions really picked up. He was embarrassed. Harvey was his boss, his friend, he was cleaning him up and this was turning Mike on?
He felt mildly disgusted with himself, and glad that the sheets covered his burgeoning erection.
"You should take those boxers off too," Harvey said, breaking the silence.
"I'd rather keep them on."
"Okay, but at least let me get you new sheets," he said, pulling back the sheet that hid Mike's attraction.
"No…uh…" Mike said, snapping the covers from Harvey to pull back over himself. But it was too late, his reflexes were shit. Harvey was looking down as he pulled the sheets back, and Mike had on a pair of silk boxers. His erection was obvious.
"I'll just scoot over, and you can roll up that side," he offered, his face was blazing red. At that moment he just wanted to die of embarrassment and get it over with. Harvey could see the pained expression on Mike's face, so he agreed. Mike scooted over and Harvey rolled up the sheets on the stained side of the bed.
"Mmm so sorry Harvey," Mike said, his face away from his boss. "Ruined your sheets, probably your mattress. Woke you up."
"Don't be ridiculous Mike, I haven't slept since the day you were shot. And no, the mattress isn't ruined. It has a mattress cover, it's fine."
The rustling of the sheets stopped once Harvey was finished. And Mike could again feel the heat of Harvey's gaze on his face.
"Are you alright Mike?"
"Yeah…" Mike squeaked. "Goodnight."
A long beat of silence passed before Harvey returned the "goodnight," and left the room.