Chapter Text
“Welcome back to Knot Your Omega, the podcast where we come together to learn why the K is silent. My guest today is Mike Ross, the famous promega activist responsible for the landmark case that abolished the Omega Tax in the US. Welcome, Mike!”
Mike smiled into the microphone. Yes, it was a podcast, but so what? Everyone in the promega space listened to this. He could make an effort to sound friendly for once. “Hi. It is such an honor to be here, I am a huge fan.”
It had been years in the making. Doing PR work had been low on Mike’s to-do list after their Supreme Court win, with all the change in his life in the shape of an Alpha-boyfriend only a select few knew about and returning to law school. Well, admittedly, avoiding media attention had only been semi-successful. Once every slow news day, a fresh gossip journalist was back on his case, sniffing for some scandalous details or regurgitating old rumors around his and Harvey’s relationship they tried to pass off as news. So boring.
With every interview request Mike had denied, the world had moved on a little more. It was only for his love of Rachel he got back in the ring and take a victory round for and mobilize some of their old friends.
“Likewise!” The host exclaimed. She said that to all her guests, but Mike still chose to believe there was a spark of sincerity in there. She was a suppressed Omega, after all. He had made that a bell of a lot cheaper. “It’s been two years since your historic win. Lots happened since then.”
“Yeah.” Mike rubbed his hands together to encourage the blood to keep flowing through them. How was it still this cold in his apartment? He had actually turned the radiator on this morning, regardless of the outrageously high energy cost. The perk of having a rich boyfriend normally meant he had a place he could seek refuge in on the unbearably cold days—but Harvey had some kind of informal meeting with Jessica at his place tonight that Mike did not care to be in the way of, and the hills of snow and icy roads were all but inviting to bike across the city, so Harvey had to suck it up and come to him whenever he was done.
Besides, Mike was paying for this apartment; he should actually spend some time in it. That would be a hell of a lot nicer if the air would actually do him the favor of warming up already.
“Be honest. Do you still feel a little smug when you buy suppressants for a third of their previous price?”
Great question. Mike chuckled. “Oh, yes. Especially when there are any Alphas in the pharmacy throwing a hissy fit because let me tell you, they are not over it yet.” He hadn’t cared about Alpha’s feelings three years ago, and he still didn’t. Seventy bucks for two cycles' worth of suppressants was an absolute steal. If it were up to him, suppressants would be free, along with all other healthcare services, but it wasn’t, and the price increase on rut suppressants seemed not to be enough to radicalize Alphas against the healthcare system, so they simply had to cope with it.
“Unlike you, you have very much moved on. Barely a few months after the ruling, you made history again, as the first Omega to be admitted to a previously no-Omega law school, Columbia Law.”
That, too, Alphas were not over yet…
Columbia had very little room to argue with the court order allowing his attendance, but boy, did they try. If it hadn’t been for Harvey advocating on his behalf and giving an in-person testimony to the great legal understanding he had demonstrated throughout their case, that could have easily turned into another lawsuit. Unfortunately, even connections to one of the most respected attorneys in the game couldn’t stop the disapproving side eye and mumbled judgments about Mike having sued his way in.
“Yes. Well, the first official Omega. Once upon a time, I attended Harvard Law pretending to be a Beta, and apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had that idea. Since it’s become public that I bulldozed my way into Columbia, so many Omegas who graduated as Betas have reached out to me and shared their story that they too have lied about their gender and how trapped they feel to keep pretending in their professional lives. It’s been such an honor to connect with them and even see some of them go public with the truth. That really underscores that Omegas can and always could do everything Alphas and Betas can do. We have actually been everywhere all along, and now we get to be loud about it.”
“And you are no longer the only one either.”
“That’s right.” Three more had sued their way in the way Mike did the year below him, and finally, Columbia had caved and reserved five spots for Omegas on their own volition the year after. And they were no longer the only school either: essentially every top ten college had been ordered to admit at least a handful of Omegas. “We are still very much the minority, and that does show up in the language used and the restrictions that are in place around campus. All of us are required to be on suppressants when Alphas aren’t, because our scent could distract them, yet no one cares if we get distracted by them.”
“Because you should be grateful to be there in the first place?”
“Pretty much. There is still a long way to go to truly end the segregation of schools, but we are progressing into the right direction. Uchicago Law has announced they will be reserving ten spots for Omegas next year, other schools are following suit. I have full faith in the next generation to continue fighting that battle and keep opening doors that too many are still trying to slam in our face.”
“Much like yourself. You wasted no time getting in the legal game.”
Well, yes, but Mike did cheat. Most people didn’t have the luxury of their closest people being lawyers already or a Supreme Court win under their belt. The promega community had really come out of the weeds, trusting him as a mere student to handle their cases. Some as much as demanded it. He would never forget the day—was it really a year ago already? Time flew by—when he picked Harvey up from the office to go to lunch and Jessica had intercepted them by the elevator. She had two Omega clients in her office requiring legal support to build their start-up, and they wanted Harvey and him.
Of course, she had tried to make it out to be this great opportunity to get his required pro bono hours; unfortunately for her, Mike had done more than enough already, and the going rate for an associate was 350 an hour. Fair was fair.
Being back in Harvey’s office to work had been special in so many ways, loaded with memories of how he had slowly fallen in love with him. It had been harder than ever to keep his hands to himself now he had full license to touch Harvey whenever he pleased, but they had done a decent enough job in his book to not be explicit. Flying under the radar in an office where everyone had opinions on them had never been a real option to begin with. Harvey, of course, had stayed on as the official representation for that start-up while Mike bowed out once it was up and running, but for every meeting, every celebration of a milestone, Mike got an invitation too; it never failed to make him giddy.
“Everyone in law school is required to do pro bono work with a certified lawyer who supervises, so I’m not unique to hit the ground running, but I am very fortunate to have gotten the opportunities I did,” Mike settled on. Some—most—details were just for him and Harvey.
“It’s hard to talk about your legal successes without one name in particular coming up. Harvey Specter.”
Mike held his breath to keep the sigh from escaping. Was it really that hard, though? Much as they made a great team, Harvey was hardly the only lawyer Mike worked with. In fact, most of the pro bono work he had done was with Rachel at her firm, not Harvey’s. Giving one interview without Harvey’s name popping up seemed to be too much to ask for, though.
“I guess so.”
“Your relationship status has caused a lot of stir.”
“Still does,” Mike mumbled. Less so, but once in a while, people did recognize them on the street, or new pictures of them that 'definitely proved their relationship' would pop up on social media and subsequently in the gossip papers.
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask you to confirm or deny anything, I can imagine you must be sick of that.”
Oh, good.
…Was he hallucinating, or were his fingertips turning blue? Mike rubbed his hands together to get the blood flowing, squeezed them between his thighs. Stupid unreliable heating.
“But I do wonder why you haven’t made any comments on it. It seems like there’s a lot of effort involved in keeping it vague that feels deliberate.”
Credit where credit was due, at least that was an original question.
“Eh, yeah, it is deliberate. We noticed pretty much the moment the rumors started flying that many people suddenly paid attention to the promega movement who never engaged with it before. That was at the stage when we wanted public attention to get as many Omegas as possible to sign on to our class action suit, and the press basically provided us with free marketing because every publication mentioned it. So he and I kind of had this realization of, we could shoot this down completely and make sure no one talks about us ever again, or we just let people draw their own conclusion. If looking for clues or confirmation that we are whatever they think we are is what gets them to care and listen, why not take advantage of that?”
“So you’re baiting people.”
A chuckle escaped Mike, his breath hot against the cold skin of his face. “I mean, basically. Come for the wannabe romance, stay for the activism.”
Shocking how that was still working to this day. People’s tireless… support was as flattering as it was creepy. “But first and foremost, the reason we aren’t explicit about the nature of our relationship is that it’s no one else’s business. We are both way too stubborn to be pressured into talking about our private lives. The more people push, the less I am interested in making a statement of any kind. Besides, that would just derail the conversation from the actual promega issues we care to talk to the public about.”
“I love that for you. It’s so important to center the cause.”
“Absolutely.” Little did they know their five minutes in the spotlight had lasted a little longer than that, but oh well.
“There was one moment of publicity in particular that you two shared quite recently that reignited the public’s interest in you. The Promega of the Year award.”
“Oh God…” Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. A shudder went down his spine when his just warmed up finger were met with cold skin.
“Was that real?”
“Yes! Okay, so what happened was, the committee for that award chose Harvey to be the Promega of the Year for his work on our class action case. And once he got the letter, he called me and said, I just got this award, and I have no idea why.”
Mike could still hear the appalled confusion in his voice when he had declared, “Why would I get this? I am an Alpha,” which, fair point, but he had done a lot for Omegas in his firm and the whole country in the span of a year. Something that, when pointed out, Harvey only scoffed at.
“They should honor you for that, not me. I only followed your lead.”
Again, not untrue. He’d like to think an Omega-led committee would have dismantled their alpha-centric indoctrination, but… “Did they explain their choice?”
“Something about being an exceptional role model to other Alphas.”
“There you go then.” It was rare for an Alpha to be actively promega toward other Alphas, Mike supposed. Too many milked the promega label while only preaching promega theory at Omegas, as if Omegas weren’t the experts of their own oppression.
“Do you agree with this?” Harvey had asked with a level of offense as if he had been snubbed rather than honored.
“I don’t know. I do think you aren’t underserving, babe. You have done a lot.” On principle, an Alpha being selected over an Omega who had done more for longer didn’t sit right with Mike. Harvey being honored, on the other hand…
“I just stopped being an ignorant dick.”
“Exactly. A lot.”
“Hm,” Harvey had grumbled before declaring he had to think about it. The Harvey Mike had first met wouldn’t have hesitated to accept any praise, much less question an award. The fact that this Harvey did was proof of just how worthy he was of it. The thought still magicked a smile on Mike’s face. He was so lucky that the mate the universe had chosen for him was a genuinely good person capable of that much growth.
“Anyway, after like two days, Harvey decided he’d accept the honor and he said, 'they wanna do a sort of ceremony to hand him the certificate and live stream it, will you be there? Just in case anything feels weird or wrong to you so I can back out', and I said, 'yes, of course'. Jump to two weeks later. I raced to Harvey’s office literally right after class to make it sort of on time, so I looked like absolute shit when I arrived, but I thought, it’s not about me, it’s about Harvey.”
“Right,” the host chuckled.
“Yeah, except wrong, because that knothead decided that was the perfect moment to make a stance and decline the award in front of like, a couple hundred viewers with no heads-up to anyone and dragged me into it.”
Mike still wasn’t sure who had been more shocked, the people from the committee or himself, when Harvey announced that the award had no business going to an Alpha. Probably Mike, though, especially when Harvey’s eyes found his with that glint of cheeky justice that promised no good seconds before it happened.
Harvey barely had taken one step toward him and Mike had already uttered a hundred nos, but it didn’t stop Harvey from planting the award into Mike’s arms and proudly declared: “I wouldn’t be half the person I am today without the work of promegas such as Mike Ross. He and the rest of his organization deserve this honor, for a lifelong commitment to make this world a better place and starting the class action in the first place.”
And Mike couldn’t even kiss him after! No, he had stood flabbergasted as Harvey applauded him and all the cameras suddenly centered on him too and Mike was left stuttering, scrambling for words to form a bullshit speech of no award being needed for doing the right thing.
Naturally, the internet had gone wild—one half obsessed over this ‘grand gesture of love’ and saw it as further proof (they were correct), the other threw a hissy fit, claiming the whole thing had been staged in a pitiful attempt for them to stay relevant. Mike hadn’t anticipated he’d prefer the shipping discourse over the scrutiny and mistrust, but every day was a learning day.
“I know people accused us of that being a publicity stunt, but I swear to God, I had no idea. I know I am not good enough of an actor to even try and fake that reaction. That whole thing was one hundred percent a Harvey Specter special.” He could laugh about it now, but man, Harvey had a lot of sucking up to do the days after for jumping that on him.
Fortunately, Harvey was excellent at sucking.
“But, on the bright side, most people didn’t know there was such a thing as a Promega of the Year award, and now they do!” the host said cheerfully. Uh huh.
“Sure. I just love when videos of us go viral and educate the masses.” He especially loved the uptick of paparazzi suddenly hiding out in front of the Promegas United headquarters as if they were the Obamas on a diplomatic mission and not just two random people going about their day.
“Do you still have the certificate?”
“Oh, yeah!” Mike had earned it by withstanding the public humiliation. “They couldn't take that away after that gesture. It’s hanging in my apartment, still with Harvey’s name on.”
“I suppose it serves as a beautiful example of how much lower the bar is for an Alpha to receive praise than it is for the rest of us. And I’m not saying that he didn’t deserve it—”
“No, but that is exactly it, and that is what Harvey was so conscious of, too. No one expects an Alpha to care because they don’t have to, so when they do, it’s suddenly prize-worthy. I think it goes to show how incredibly prone to alpha-centric thinking promega spaces still are that we are focusing on promega Alphas rather than on uplifting each other's hard work. And yes, in a way, it is nice that attaching Harvey’s name to something is guaranteed to draw attention, but it also shouldn’t be necessary. I love that he took the opportunity to call that bias out when he did, I just wish he would have told me to dress better,” Mike chuckled. That was the problem with dating an Alpha who loved him unconditionally—Harvey still found him attractive even in the most slobbish clothes. Another way he had grown. Who would have thought Harvey Specter could ever forgive a poor outfit choice?
A cold air ached in his lungs. He swore he could see his own breath. Ugh, he kind of wished he had more of his slobbish outfits here to bundle up in. Maybe a hat, too. Several heated blankets like the one he had at Harvey’s place… outside the window, hundreds of snowflakes clouded the view.
“So. You abolished the Omega tax. You are about to graduate from law school. What’s next for you?”
Finally, the reason he was here. “Us from Promegas United have teamed up with the anti-sexual violence organization RAINN to create a bill we aim to propose to Congress, an effort led by the brilliant lawyer Rachel Zane who I adore and love so much. The bill seeks to expand the legal options on how to prosecute people who are charged with an act of sexual violence. Basically, right now, too often, trials are reduced to a he-said-she-said situation, and the presumption of innocence sees many rapists go free. But statistics prove that most people who commit sex crimes are serial offenders, and yet, previous misbehaviors and abusive tendencies are, as of now, not permitted as evidence in court in most states. We aim to change that.”
“Interesting, okay! So what kind of evidence would that include that is currently being dismissed?”
“Eh, patterns of behavior, essentially. Say someone has been fired from a job for sexual harassment, or spewed gendered hate online, or even has been reported for harassment before yet didn’t get convicted because of lack of evidence, these are all past offenses that can speak to a person’s motives and capabilities to commit a sex crime. At this moment in time, most assault and rape trials go like this: the victim brings forward allegations, the legal and sometimes PR team of the accused completely destroy their character and discredit their credibility while lifting up the accused as an outstanding member of society who would never hurt anyone, and the victims suffer through even more pain. By taking patterns of past behavior into account, the victim’s voice will be strengthened.”
“I assume it could help the accused too if they actually are innocent? Since so many Alphas live in fear of being falsely accused of rape.”
Ah, yes. Alphas and their fears. Since being falsely accused ruined their lives, as proven by the convicted rapist being elected president. Twice.
“Sure. If they truly are good people who never hurt anyone, patterns of their past behavior can help them prove that too. I mean, in my experience, Alphas who are overtly worried about being falsely accused wouldn’t really have such evidence in their favor, but, yes. The point is to create a fairer trial that looks at more than just one singular instance of crime as though it happened in a vacuum when that simply isn’t the case.”
So many more people might finally get justice. Rachel might have gotten justice. It wouldn’t fill all the gaps in the justice system, but anything was better than the shockingly low conviction rate of abusers they had now.
“So if any listeners want to support your bill, how would they do that?”
“Everyone can help by putting pressure on your local representatives. We need a member of congress to sponsor the bill, the more the merrier. Plus, once the bill will be presented at the house of representatives and the senate, we need a majority vote there too. So spread the word. Tell everyone why this matters, and not just for Omegas. Everyone can become a victim, and everyone deserves a fair trial and to get justice.”
The tip of his nose burned from the cold, his lungs felt coated in ice. He swore the apartment just got ten degrees colder once again. He clung to his smile, but even explaining the flaws in the current legal landscape that made it possible for people to get away with their heinous crimes, which never failed to get his blood boiling, wasn’t enough to heat him up.
He couldn’t be more grateful for when she finally wrapped-up the interview and slammed the laptop shut with a trembling hand. No amount of walking around truly helped, he even jumped on the spot, breathed into his hands. It was about as effective as throwing hot water into a blizzard. The radiator was ice cold under his touch. The snowflakes were as big as his fists, fell so rapidly, so mercilessly, all he could see was white.
No heating, in the middle of a snowstorm.
Shit.
***
Cold. It crept into Harvey’s core, had the goosebumps spread on his arms despite his apartment being heated to its usual, perfect sixty-nine degrees. That could only mean one thing: Mike was on his way, and judging by the stiffness in Harvey’s fingers, the prickle in their very tips, he did not choose to be smart and take a taxi. So much for Harvey’s promise to come to his apartment tonight to save Mike the trip through the snow.
“Something the matter?” Jessica asked, eyeing up Harvey stretching through his fingers to get his body to realize he was, in fact, in a warm apartment and there was no need to give him Mike’s frostbite.
He hopped to his feet and walked toward the kitchen. “No. Keep talking.”
It was rare enough that she came for a home visit. Actually, she hadn’t done that in years, but some subjects were a little too touchy to discuss in the office where everyone could see—and hear—them; Louis trying to bulldoze his way into becoming a name partner made the cut.
“I was done. What do you think? Should we do it?”
“Three names on the wall are a lot.” Harvey fished Mike’s favorite mug out of the cabinet (it looked identical to the others, minus a tiny piece chipped off at the bottom, but who was he to question the things that brought Mike joy), wordlessly held it up in front of Jessica.
“I’ll have something stronger.”
“Coming right up.” But freezing Omegas came first, and this one felt like he could really use a boiling hot, black coffee. The coffee machine roared up as it ground the beans. He also filled a glass with whiskey for Jessica, which he placed in front of her on the living room table.
“I can’t ignore Louis’s work forever. He is a piece of work, but he is also doing more billables than half m employees combined. He’s more dedicated to the firm than most too, including you.”
“That’s because he has no life…” Harvey mumbled. To this day, he hadn’t stopped giving Mike evils every time he came by the firm. If Mike were any less of a man and hadn't grown amused by Louise's weird antagonism, the conflict would have long escalated.
“He’s turned a blind eye to a lot of dodgy things you’ve done.”
“Yes, and he definitely has never used them to extort favors from me like the selfless person that he is.” Blackmail was in Louis’s DNA, much like mudding and cats were. “What does he have on you to consider this?”
“Nothing. But he did threaten to quit.”
“A devastating loss we couldn’t possibly make up for.”
“Harvey. Be serious.”
“What makes you think I was being sarcastic?” He positioned himself right by the door to the hallway and held out the steaming mug. In 3… 2… 1…
“What on earth are you doing?” Jessica chastised, just as the key turned in the lock; a snow-covered Mike dragged a path of mud in (Harvey needed to remember to tip the poor cleaning staff), the melting snow dropped off his winter coat in drops and clumps. The tip of his nose was fiery red, his hair was wet despite the hat he pulled off it. And still, his eyes shone brighter than the sun when they met his.
He gasped when he clocked the mug hovering in front of him. “Oooh. I love you so much.” Whether he was speaking to the coffee or to him, Harvey didn’t know; both seemed likely. Mike mindlessly tossed his gloves to the floor, clutched at the hot ceramic. His hands were shaking so much, some coffee spilled over the edge; Mike didn’t even flinch when it crashed into his skin.
“You okay?” Harvey asked as he picked up the soaking-wet gloves and put them on the heater in the hallway to dry.
“Living the dream, can’t you see?” Harvey helped him out of his massive coat so he didn't have to put the coffee down, suppressed the urge to press a kiss on his head when he got the chance.
“Thank you…” Mike’s ice-cold hand burned on Harvey’s cheek, he leaned in… Harvey indicated with his eyes to the couch. With the hint of a frown, Mike followed his gaze—and immediately dropped his hand. “Oh. Hi.”
“Hello,” Jessica said with that I-knew-it smile Harvey so hated.
“I’m sorry, I thought you might be done by now.”
“That's okay.” Saved Harvey a trip. Mike’s studio was… fine. When it had Mike squeezed into it. But it didn’t compete with the condo’s comfort. “Jessica, you remember Mike?”
The question was rhetorical—she had a strange obsession with him. Whenever Mike was around, Harvey caught her watching them, yet never approaching them except for that one time she was springing a case on them. For years now, Harvey had waited for her to ask the question, make a comment about Mike revealing what she thought of him, anything; at this point, it felt like a game, and whoever acknowledged Mike’s presence around Harvey first would lose it.
“Of course. You look… wet.”
“Yeah,” Mike huffed. His throat bopped. The silence couldn’t have lasted longer than a heartbeat, but it was loaded with a buzzing tension thickening the air that made Harvey desperate to pull Mike close, shield him from the discomfort…
“I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I am frozen to the bone and I am only here to thaw up in Harvey's bath,” Mike declared and, after extending a sweet smile to Harvey, sped away to the bathroom, the mug never far away from his face.
Harvey smiled. Mike being comfortable naked around him was one thing, and definitely not a small honor—him trusting Harvey enough to get naked in his apartment when another Alpha was here, that was on another level altogether. Hell, that beat the first time Rachel had taken her scarf off around him.
“So he is your Omega. I knew it,” Jessica declared.
“No, he is his own person. He just chooses to spend time here.” Harvey sank into the corner of the couch, one arm on the backrest.
“I don't understand your relationship.” Shocking how the basic principle I don’t own the man I love just because he loves me back boggled the mind of such a smart person.
“I don’t understand your relationship to Louis either, or why you entertain his demand.”
“He’s doesn’t have a key to my apartment. Or ever used my bathtub.”
Harvey’s nose cringed up. He could have done without the mental image of Jessica and Louis getting naked… A shudder went through him, shook him through his very core. No. Gross. He needed a better thought—Mike getting into his bathtub. His soft skin sticking to the porcelain, the bubbles barely covering his bare body, his knee poking out above the surface… Was it hot in here, or had Mike simply stopped freezing? This conversation seemed moot when he could be there rather than here.
“Look, if you want to add another name to the wall, I won’t stop you, as long as I don’t have to babysit him.”
“You seriously won’t acknowledge what just happened with that Omega?”
Harvey sipped his drink, let the whiskey sit on his tongue for all the sweet, spicy flavors to unfold. It was that, or a lecture why reducing Mike to his gender was awfully belittling since he was a whole person with an uncountable number of lovable traits, way beyond his ability to take a knot and pop out babies.
Jessica huffed. “Wow.”
“So, Louis. What’s it gonna be?”
It took another ten minutes of an altogether one-sided conversation that proved Jessica had long made up her mind, and this ‘discussion’ was a courtesy call at best. Harvey resigned himself to the fact that soon, his name would be the delicious center of a strangely matched sandwich. It was easy when he could feel the hot water embracing Mike… Whether Jessica thought this meeting had come to its natural end or whether she knew him well enough to guess there was someplace he’d rather be, either way, she quickly bid her goodbye.
Harvey quickly locked the door before he jogged to the bathroom. The door was unlocked. Mike was neck-deep submerged in an avalanche of bubbles; his eyes opened into slits when Harvey entered, along with that loving smile Harvey was privileged to see a lot of.
“Hi.” Harvey sat on the edge of the bathtub; warm water soaked through the bottom of his pants. Mike’s warm, pruney hand found his immediately.
“Hey.”
“How's the thawing going? Need some extra heat?”
“I could do with that...” Mike purred.
Slowly, unhurried, Harvey peeled himself out of his dress shirt, stepped out of his pants. Mike’s lower lip was trapped behind his front teeth; he sat up, spread his legs for Harvey to scoot between, an invitation too good to resist. Harvey supported himself with one hand next to Mike’s shoulders as he lowered himself down, chest to chest; five fingers slid into Harvey’s hair. Finally, their lips met in the long overdue kiss.
Mike locked his legs behind Harvey’s lower back. “Sorry for crashing your meeting. I was really desperate.”
“It was very informal.” Harvey traced his lips over the familiar soft skin of Mike’s cheek. “She was looking for my consent to make Louis the third name partner.”
“Oh god.” Mike’s voice was heavy on the appalment. “Why?”
“Blackmail.”
Mike chuckled as if that couldn’t possibly be real; apparently, he still had more faith in Louis than Harvey had realized.
“What had you turn into a block of ice?”
Mike’s head fell backward against the tub with a groan. “The boiler in my building is broken and I realized too late. I had to do the whole interview in the freezing cold.”
“And you came all the way here to warm up?” Eight miles through the snow, when Rachel had a bathtub too and lived barely five minutes away from Mike?
“Why wouldn’t I? Your bath is the best.”
That simple, huh? Harvey didn’t have a competition with Rachel for Mike’s time or anything, it was nothing that high school—but to be chosen in moments like this did fill Harvey with a special warmth only Mike could effuse in him. Not the one of winning, but one of being wanted by such a special person.
“Especially with you in it…” Harvey muttered, tracing lips over Mike’s cheek, to his neck to leave a series of soft kisses on his skin.
“You flirt.”
Proudly so. It never failed to amuse Mike, and everything that entertained him delighted Harvey.
“My landlord said it will take a few weeks to get it fixed, at least two…” Oh. Such treacherous living conditions were unacceptable.
“Guess that means you need a place to stay…” Harvey’s hand traced up his side, over the dips of his ribs.
“It does…”
“My apartment is much bigger than Rachel's...” He couldn’t provide the same quality of home-cooked meals, but he did have a vast catalogue of restaurants in the area that Mike loved.
“Are you pitching yourself?” Mike chuckled. How could he not, when he had the ultimate chance of having Mike around all the time? Well, he wasn’t exactly a rare guest, but this level of commitment without a second home to flee to was new for them. One that could prove that the second home was superfluous in the first place, maybe…
“Yes. Stay with me.”
“Well, there is a lot of my stuff here, so...”
“Exactly! Please?”
Smiling, Mike stroked through his hair, drew tender circles with his fingernails. “Babe, I'm literally counting on it.”
A warm feeling hugged Harvey’s heart, even more comforting than the hot water around them. What a privilege to be Mike’s first choice, to have his trust, his love…
“I’ll make it worth it…”
He lightly nipped at Mike’s neck, sucked the sensitive skin between his teeth; Mike’s legs around him tightened, his hand in Harvey’s hair kept him right by his neck.
“Lucky me…” Mike’s voice was little more than a breath. Somewhere on the floor, Harvey’s phone was buzzing—he was too busy licking and kissing along Mike’s racing pulse to care.