Archive of Our Own

Something was different about Mike.

It was in the way he moved, in the straightness of his spine, in the way Rachel was attached to his arm like a sloth, laughing and giggling in the middle of the day, in the office for all to see. In the way his smile didn’t fade in favor of any professionalism when he met Harvey’s eyes from across the hallway. He even gave a little wave Harvey nearly reciprocated before he remembered who he was.

It was moments like these when Harvey wished Mike were still working for him. When Mike was his associate, he had never managed to keep things to himself for long. Harvey would have an excuse to seek him out and do some good-natured prodding into his elated mood, and Mike would have cracked like a glacier during climate change and told him everything. But those days were gone.

It wasn’t exactly a hard guess what caused this… attachment, anyway. Only so many milestones could turn a couple into giddy teenagers again, except Harvey needed to be wrong about that. He wasn't ready. If this was it, if Mike got engaged, or worse, if Rachel was pregnant with his child… Harvey swallowed against the dryness plaguing his throat. He must be getting a cold.

The luxury of not knowing lasted until the darkness had swallowed the sun. The white office light hurt his eyes, a glaring reminder he needed to get home. Fat lot of good that would do him. Though the torment of wondering whether he had missed his chance with Mike for good would be more bearable on his Italian leather couch...

A soft knock chimed against the glass. Harvey looked up. Mike. Still smiling, without his suit jacket; his white shirt bunched around his elbows. The dark tie danced with every movement because even after all these years, he still didn’t consider a tie clip a requirement. Harvey had failed him.

He’d be more upset about it if Mike’s determination to rebel against the rules of fashion wasn’t adorable.

“Can I come in?” Mike’s voice was low, husk. Harvey’s heart drummed in his chest. This wasn’t a Mike asking for professional advice. This was the Mike who—somehow—had come to consider Harvey a friend.

Looked like his time of ignorant bliss was up.

“Since when do you ask?”

“Since I don’t want to be a bother.” Mike smiled that tender, private smile that had Harvey’s heart ache. He was a masochist for reciprocating it, but this was Mike. Not smiling at him was like telling a baby to fuck off after it said hi: not technically a crime, but a moral violation for sure.

“That’s new.”

“Okay, shut up,” Mike chuckled.

Ah, respect. Another thing he missed about Mike working for him.

There had been a time when Mike wouldn’t have dared to tell him to shut it; thankfully, it hadn’t lasted very long. Troublesome as the blurred lines were at times, Mike’s refreshing attitude and point of view were exactly what had earned him chance after chance with Harvey, no matter how badly he fucked up or how often he quit. He simply was one of a kind. Harvey prided himself on being too smart to let him go—and yet, the feeling that he had let him get away loomed over him.

Mike sat down without further questions, clasping his hands in his lap. He rolled his shoulders back; his chest lifted with a deep inhale. “So. I have news.”

Harvey clung to the reminder that this had been inevitable to prepare for the incoming missiles. His knees squeezed together. “What news?”

“Rachel and I are engaged.”

It sounded as neutral as if he had declared the executive kitchen was out of pastries after Harvey had told him to go get some. The hint of a smile played around his lips, disappearing quickly; he nodded, huffed even, as if he couldn’t believe it himself yet. Understandably so. Marriage was a huge step. Much as Rachel and he had been well on track for a long time, it was only natural that it took a while for him to process the development. No one could hold onto the giddiness Harvey had witnessed on them earlier forever; just the thought exhausted Harvey.

Ignoring his heart dropping into his pants and leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind, Harvey smiled. “Congrats. About time.”

His own words hit him like a punch in the gut, but what else was he supposed to say? It had always been Rachel for Mike, no matter what. Harvey had tried to mess with it once by ordering Mike not to share their secret, and that bastard had done it anyway and put both their fates into Rachel’s hands. Harvey had known even then that those weren’t the actions of someone who didn’t see a forever with that person.

“That’s what she said too.” Mike’s hollow gaze was focused on something that wasn’t there on the floor. “She’s been dropping hints for weeks, so I figured, now or never, you know.”

Was it wishful thinking, or did that sound loaded?

“So, what, she rushed your plans for the perfect proposal?”

Mike snapped out of whatever thought had burdened him, smiling again. It barely crinkled his eyes. “I don’t know if it was perfect, but she seemed happy enough.”

“And so are you.”

“Sure. I mean, she’s awesome.”

Right. Wishful thinking it was, then. Mike must simply be tired after a long day of hard work; that was commendable. Harvey would do well not interpreting the muted energy around him as anything else; he had no right to meddle with Mike’s happiness, nor had he any business being hurt by any of this. He wasn’t even gay, at least not without several drinks, and only if handsome, persuasive men propositioned him. This, the ache turning his insides out and suffocating his heart, it was simply misplaced protectiveness after all the times he had saved Mike’s butt. But this wasn’t a mistake that needed fixing—it was the happy end Mike deserved.

The chair scraped over the floor when he stood up. “This calls for a drink.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve been sitting on the news all day so we could indulge now.”

“Bold of you to assume I don’t day drink at work.” Mike getting engaged qualified as a good enough reason for it. To celebrate, it went without saying.

“Maybe I didn’t want any interruptions.” The cheeky grin lighting up Mike’s face made his eyes sparkle. A flutter chased through Harvey’s chest—he had to focus hard on pouring them drinks. Mike awaited his with an outstretched hand. Their fingers brushed as he took it; a spark of something chased up Harvey’s arm.

He sat on the corner of his desk, just far enough away to avoid any more accidental touches, and lifted his glass. “To the future Mr. Zane.”

Mike’s chuckle echoed through the room like a wind chime, light and beautiful. Their eyes met in time for the clink of their glasses; Mike held his gaze hostage as he took the first sip. The print of his lips shimmered on the edge of the tumbler. Harvey had to look away before he got accused of staring, he watched himself swirl the golden liquid around the glass.

“There is something else.”

Oh God. Was she pregnant too? How drunk could Harvey get in the office? He took another sip of whiskey, kept his gaze low. “What’s that?”

“I want you to be my best man.”

Harvey’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Yeah! You’re my best friend, Harvey. I want you by my side. What do you say? Please?”

By his side. Down an aisle. Except behind him, not facing each other. The way it was always bound to happen, as best friends. He supposed that was what they were. All they were. The stone in his stomach was nothing but the result of a confused nervous system that failed to separate a tight friendship from something more.

“I’d be honored.”

“Great!” He shone as bright as the light of the evening sun disappearing into the ocean. Yeah, there it was, the excitement of a newly-engaged, soon-to-be-wed, very happy person. No one radiated pure sunlight when they weren’t excited to get married. He’d finally have the family he always wanted, the life he deserved.

Underneath the gaping hole in his chest, Harvey was genuinely happy for him.

The case only required a day trip: they would take the first flight to Pittsburgh to meet a client, settle their affairs, and head back to New York on the last plane. Mike had been looking forward to today for weeks. And not just because the wedding planning was getting a little much (he loved Rachel, but he did not care about flower arrangements or color schemes or dress codes or what font their invitations should be in).

It was rare that he still got to work cases with Harvey. He missed spending time with him like that, putting their heads together, coming up with game plans and tricks to get out on top. The scheming had only gotten more enjoyable the more Mike had grown to match his level, especially when Harvey slipped back into his old habits and tried to boss Mike around, and Mike had the privilege of reminding him that they were equals now. Harvey would smile and say, “In your dreams. You’ll always be a rookie to me,” and they would bicker and laugh. Those were the best moments.

The black, early morning sky did not match the fuzzy warmth Mike felt inside of him when Harvey and Ray picked him up. Another thing that had gotten too rare, their shared commutes. His small talk with Ray, Harvey met with an eye roll and suppressed smile. Mike dreaded to think what silence Ray must suffer through now that Mike barely rode with Harvey anymore.

The plane was too small for a proper business class, but there was still something prestigious about travelling front row. Harvey even offered him the window seat. This day was going great. He was tempted to accept the champagne the flight attendants offered, travelling in style and all that, but Harvey waved them off on both of their behalf. Right. Work trip, not a fun hangout with his best friend. Well, it was a fun hangout with his best friend, but the drinks needed to wait until they were done being kickass lawyers.

“This is a nice taster for my bachelor party,” Mike said anyway, taking in the blanket of dark clouds underneath him. He loved being able to see the sun while the people stuck on earth were complaining about the rain.

“You think I’m flying you somewhere?” Harvey’s voice was wry. Mike’s heart jumped thinking about Harvey throwing him a party.

Yes, it was hardly the craziest thing Harvey would have done for him, didn’t come close to the whole committing a felony thing and the running into armed holdups and the supporting him through the stupidest of choices. But all of that could also be chalked up to Harvey protecting their secret. This, though, a party, agreeing to be his best man, that was personal. The best and ultimate proof he, too, considered them best friends.

“Aren’t you? I was hoping for the private jet treatment.”

“Let me guess, Vegas? You cliché.”

“I’d settle for New Orleans.”

“That shithole? No way. We deserve better.”

Cute how he always included Mike in his standards. “I’m kidding. I don’t want anything too big. Nothing beats whiskey, steaks, and good company.” All of that, Harvey could easily deliver. He had many times in the past. No party could compete with a night, just the two of them.

The case—finalizing the expansion of a client’s business they had supported since it was a start-up—was pleasantly easy. Mike loved a brain teaser, but he did value the privilege that was falling back into the old, simple routine with Harvey too, finishing each other’s sentences, wordlessly getting coffee for each other. He missed this. A lot.

Too soon, Harvey declared they had all they needed and should get back to the airport. Stupid that the last flight was at seven PM already, costing them the chance for a nice dinner, but well. He preferred this side of Harvey to the grump that would come out if Mike made them miss their flight, so he didn’t dare to try and mess with Harvey’s schedule.

In the back of the taxi, Harvey frowned at his screen. Yet not saying a word. Typical.

“What’s wrong?” Mike asked.

“Our flight is delayed.”

Mike pressed his lips together to keep the smile at bay. “How long?”

“Ninety minutes.”

Perfect. Thank you, universe. “I guess that means we could get a proper dinner instead of picking something up at the airport.” Pittsburgh ought to have nice restaurants around. Something classy, maybe with some live jazz to appeal to the fan in Harvey.

“We still have to be there on time in case something changes.”

Boring. “No delayed flight ever magically got back on time.”

Harvey’s side eye was intense enough for Mike to swallow all further arguments. Fine, if he wanted to spend their evening sitting at a shitty airport instead of a restaurant… Shame, but if Harvey made up his mind, it was best to go along.

The seats by the gate were the horrendous metal kind that were impossible to get comfortable on. That couldn’t possibly the up to Harvey Specter’s standard, even if he—somehow—managed to sit still as if the thin metal mesh did not dull his ass too.

“Admit it, we’d have a better timer at restaurant.”

The way Harvey’s mouth pinched, he agreed. Not that he'd ever say out loud that Mike had been right about something. The universe, however, had no such hesitations, because the gate agents announced it would be yet another hour until their plane would get here—some technical issue at La Guardia that caused the delay of the previous flight.

Mike let his eyebrows deliver the I told you so.

“Shut up,” Harvey grumbled. Mike was so glad Harvey knew all of his expressions by now.

Try as he might to keep himself from losing his mind, his brain refused to produce a thought interesting enough to get lost in. He eyed up Harvey’s shoulder, broad and empty. Fitting a head, when Mike’s was growing awfully heavy from all the sitting around…

“You okay?” Harvey asked. Mike snapped upright. Stupid idea.

“I’m bored as hell.”

“Deal with it.”

Charming as always. Mike couldn’t help but smile. He checked his phone, found a message from Rachel asking how the trip was going. Ah. He'd better let her know he’d get back late and not to wait up. Maybe he could stay over at Harvey’s place so as not to wake her up, if Harvey let him.

“We can look at some paperwork?” Harvey’s voice was rough in its quietness. “To occupy that big brain of yours.”

That, that was quintessential Harvey. First mocking him, then making a genuine offer to help out. What a privilege it was to see that side of him.

“Love to.”

Granted, there wasn’t all that much to do anymore because they were the best, but one mention of what forms they needed opened the gateway to, “hey, remember the time when I didn’t know how to file a patent?” which had Harvey chuckling and insulting him. He was surprisingly willing to go down memory lane with Mike, no comments about how sappy nostalgia was—just them reliving their highlight reel, the best of the best of their partnership. Mike’s heart ached knowing it would never be quite like that again. These days, he often went days without properly speaking to Harvey, about work or otherwise. They should change that.

“Dear passengers, we are sorry to inform you that the American Airlines flight to New York La Guardia has been canceled due to a technical issue with the aircraft. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Fantastic,” Harvey groaned as he threw his hands in the air.

Well, sure, inconvenient, but not exactly a tragedy. They could have been on a defective plane and become casualties of crash, that would have been much worse. He hated to ask it, but… “Did you have plans for tonight?” With Harvey, the chances were never zero. Maybe a hot woman was waiting in his apartment for his return, covered head to toes in Sushi like Samantha from Sex and the City (Rachel made him watch it)—great, now he was craving Sushi.

“No, but I got important meetings tomorrow morning.” Harvey pulled out his phone and clicked on Donna’s contact. Oh, good.

“Maybe we can catch the redeye?” Not exactly the most comfortable option, but less of a hassle than rescheduling. Harvey grumbled something under his breath, picked up his bag, and walked away. Mike jogged to catch up, and they made their way to the help desk together. Easily fifty people had managed to get there before them, arguing with the airline staff.

Harvey tapped his foot, checked his watch every thirty seconds, threw in an eye roll once in a while too. “How long can it take to rebook people?!” he whined. He was cute when he was grouchy, pouting like a child who's been told he can't have candy before breakfast.

When the slowpokes ahead finally cleared away, Harvey all but slammed his ID on the AA counter. “Put us on the earliest flight to New York.”

“I’m sorry, our 6 AM flight to JFK is fully booked. I have one more seat available on our 6:50 AM flight to La Guardia in business class?”

Just one? Mike wouldn’t mind sitting on Harvey’s lap, but he wasn’t so sure the flight attendants would let them get away with that one.

“You take it,” he said. “You got your meetings.”

Their eyes met; the bussle of the airport, the voices of people, it all seemed to slow down and get drowned in the warm depth Mike got lost in.

“When is the next one after that?” Harvey asked. Wait, seriously?

“I have a 10:45 AM to La Guardia which still has seats available.”

But that was too late, wasn’t it? The 6:50 already wouldn't get Harvey to the office until nine, if traffic was good. Arriving past noon meant he’d have to reschedule at least half his day, and if there were any delays—

“We’ll take them.”

Mike’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline. Harvey would rather reschedule than sit apart on a ninety-minute flight? But Harvey didn’t meet his questioning glance, only collected their passports and stomped off.

“We can check out other airlines,” Mike offered. There ought to be one early flight that had two seats available, since apparently, that mattered to Harvey. The thought made something in Mike's chest flutter.

“It’s fine. I would have missed the meeting anyway.” His fingertips hammered down on his phone screen as he typed, no doubt spelling out instructions for Donna.

“Why didn’t you take the last seat?” The questioned burned inside of him until it busted out, but Mike couldn't regret it. Harvey wasn't half as selfish as people prescribed him to be, but taking an earlier flight to make his meeting would have been a sensible course of action.

Finally, Harvey looked at him. Glared, really. “And deal with you whining about how I abandoned you? Fat chance.” An invisible smile colored his every word. Aw. Sometimes, Harvey showed that he cared in mysterious ways, but it was always heartwarming.

Mike wished he could linger in the sweet high of Harvey's consideration, but now they were stuck here, they needed to find a place to spend the night, too.

They checked the airport hotels—every single one was booked out. As good as the day had started, now, they seemed to have run out of luck. Even the ones outside the airport, a short walk away, turned them down. What the hell?

“I mean, we could set up camp here,” Mike said. There ought to be some comfy chairs in this building. They could huddle together, keep each other warm…

“I am not sleeping on the floor.” Harvey’s tone made clear that was final.

He lifted the phone to his ear, tried the next closest hotel. Again, nothing. Apparently, there was some huge conference and a concert in the city, and practically all hotels were booked out. Still, Harvey dialed the next number, asked the same question for the fifth time: “Do you have two rooms available tonight?”

He perked up. “You do? …But only one double room?”

Well, that was no issue at all. Looked like Mike was getting his sleepover after all. He nodded, mouthed go for it. Harvey covered the mic with his palm.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I don't mind.” In fact, he was a little curious what the just-woken-up Harvey would be like. Would Mr. perfect snore? Now that was something Mike could tease him with.

Harvey dropped his hand. “We’ll take it. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

And back toward the city it was. Could have saved themselves the trip if they had gone out for dinner instead, but alas.

The hotel was… something. Something old. Something with a lot of dark woods and odd porcelain figurines scattered around. Easy to see why this one hadn’t been in high demand—god, years of working with Harvey had turned him into a snob too.

The stairs creaked under their feet. Good thing their room was on the second floor, because there was no elevator in the building.

The scanner beeped and rattled as it unlocked the door; blue carpet covered the floor. To the left, an open door revealed a tiny bathroom with poo-brown tiles. How inviting. A queen bed took up the majority of the small main space; a modernist white painting with a bunch of colorful, overlapping shapes hung above.

“Cozy,” Mike remarked when Harvey groaned and pinched his nose. Guess when they say double room, they meant for two people, not two beds. Made no difference. If anything, the thought of sharing a bed with Harvey was more than a little intriguing.

“Shit show. Why is today cursed?”

“Guess our combined greatness upset the balance of the universe, and now we’re suffering the consequences.” He dropped his briefcase next to the bedside closest to the door and dropped down. The mattress bounced under his weight. A little old, perhaps, but passable. Harvey, however, stood in the middle of the room as if he was waiting for a second bed to appear. Mike patted the space next to him. “Come on. Two guys can share a bed.”

Whatever Harvey grumbled under his breath got lost in the space between them, but he walked to the window side. Still, he didn’t sit down, but investigated the thick, blue curtains with a frankly unjustified interest. Wow. Mike hadn’t realized that sharing a bed would be this awful for Harvey...

Bzz bzz bzz. He fished his phone out of his pocket. Rachel. Right, she still didn’t know. He accepted the video call; her face popped up just as she was arranging her hair in the camera.

“Hey. I saw your flight got cancelled,” she greeted, accusation swinging in every word. For the first time since entering, Harvey looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry, I was about to tell you. We were  busy making arrangements. We managed to score a hotel for the night, but they only had one room. Harvey is thrilled.”

Rachel huffed. “I can imagine. Try not to kill each other.”

Why would she say that? They didn’t have a record of arguing whenever they spent time together. Their fights were spectacular and relationship-redefining, not petty squabbles caused by proximity.

“No guarantees,” Harvey deadpanned. Nice as ever. If he hadn't forfeited a seat on the earlier plane for Mike, that comment would have hurt his feelings; now, it was all part of his scruffy charm.

“It’s gonna be okay. You know he loves me really.” He said that last part pointed at Harvey so he'd remember that too—and got a pillow thrown into his face. Finally, Harvey sank onto the mattress too. Look who had overcome his bedphobia.

“Let’s see if he still loves you when he learns you’re a blanket-hogger.”

Mike’s ears grew hot. Why would she say that in front of Harvey? Was she trying to ruin this? He didn’t want to be made to sleep on the floor after all! “We’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, Rach.”

“Sure. Text me your new flight.”

“Will do. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He hung up quickly, but was not spared Harvey’s amused side eye. Mike swallowed. “We can ask for an extra blanket—”

“It’s fine,” Harvey chuckled. At least his mood had brightened, no doubt induced by seeing Mike’s pain. The sacrifices Mike made to make this man happy, accidental as it had been.

“I’m gonna shower if that’s alright?” Mike asked.

“Please do. You stink.”

“Charming.”

“You know me.”

Yes. Yes, Mike did, and he loved that Harvey agreed.

The bathroom had seen better years for sure. Two toothbrushes sat in clear cups on the sink. That was one issue solved. They’d make do with the rest. He closed the door—it swung right back open. What the… he held it shut, turned the lock. The door opened again. Oh.

“Uh, hey, Harvey. Fun news.”

“What now?” He poked his head around the corner.

“The lock is broken and the door doesn’t close properly.” He demonstrated what he meant, closed the door once more for it to pop back open, leaving a three-inch gap to the frame. Harvey’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Great,” he pressed out. Yeah. They were about to become a whole lot more intimate with each other’s bathroom habits. Good thing they both had seen Louis naked at the club; no way anything could trump that trauma around the male body.

Standing as close to the wall as he could to stay out of Harvey's line of sight—not that he believed Harvey would spy on him—he got undressed. Strange, knowing Harvey was right here.

A room this… lacking surely didn’t have the best water supply either. Mike did not care to stand around and twiddle his thumbs if it took hours to warm up, least of all with Harvey next door who’d make fun of him for it, probably call him a princess or something for taking hour-long showers. So with a towel around his hips, he turned on the tap to test the water. Pure hellfire scalded his skin.

“Oh, fuck!” Mike cursed, stumbling backward. His back hit the wall of the hallway, he fanned his hand, investigated it for blisters; none had formed yet. Stupid Pittsburgh with its stupid bad hotels. Harvey was right, this was awful—Harvey. He stood by his bed, now without his suit jacket, his eyebrows raised.

“Uh. The water is hot.”

Harvey nodded. Still silent. Still staring at something below Mike’s face.

“What?” Mike looked down on himself. Right, he was practically naked. Oops. Well, Harvey had to get used to it. Neither of them would be sleeping in their suits, and it wasn’t like they had brought a change of clothes, so Mike rolled his shoulders back and owned it. “You’ve never seen a hot piece of ass before?”

“It’s the only part of you that’s covered,” Harvey remarked. What was that, a challenge? Mike wasn’t prudish, he’d drop the towel—what was he thinking? Why on earth would he flash Harvey? God, he was making this awkward, wasn’t he?

More cautiously, he braved the shower again, held his hand in the steam. It took some playing with the tab, but the water reached regular human temperature eventually. He kept his eyes on the gap the door left; he wasn’t sure why he waited to see Harvey’s face appear there. Obviously, Harvey Specter was way too good a man to creep on anyone in the shower. Kind of a shame.

Mike went through the motions, brushed his teeth, checked his breath. Harvey couldn’t accuse him of stinking now. Man, he wished this hotel were nice enough to offer robes. With only his boxers on—it would have been more awkward to get dressed to then undress himself again, right?—he stepped outside.

Harvey was shirtless. The smooth skin of his back was on full display, his spine a perfect curve melting into his ass... Mike’s groin tingled. Terrible timing, because Harvey gazed over his shoulder. Mike averted his eyes, tried to look anywhere other than him. The bed. The bed was good. The bed was safe. The bed would get him covered up.

He slipped under the scruffy cotton blanket, let it cover him from the waist down. He heard Harvey slip into the bathroom rather than seeing it, and made a point of scrolling through his socials with the volume cranked up to the max to give Harvey some semblance of privacy; being mocked for whatever came across his feed was preferable to being accused of being a freak who listened to other people pee.

Harvey came out a few minutes later, wordlessly crossed to his side of the bed. Their shared bed. God. Fun as that had sounded earlier, now, the nerves brewed up the weirdest feelings in his stomach.

Harvey unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants to the floor. Much as Mike tried to keep his eyes in check, but he couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Harvey in his underwear before he slid under the comforter. The mattress dipped underneath him. The extra body created a heatwave under the blanket.

Right then. Him and Harvey, almost naked, inches apart.

Should they… talk? Mike felt the situation called for a joke to ease the weird tension thickening the air. He dropped his phone in his lap.

“Wild day, huh? We could have had a sleepover under less dramatic circumstances, you just needed to ask.”

Harvey’s eyes snapped to his. Mike could swear they were wider than usual, but before he could grasp why, Harvey slithered to his side, one arm wrapped over the blanket. The other tucked under his head, leaving his shoulders and the hint of his smooth chest on full display. He had nice arms. Just muscular enough to be defined, a few birthmarks scattered on the pale canvas of his skin…

“Turn the light off,” Harvey commanded. Shit, had he been staring? Deflect, now. Eh...

“Do I still have associate written on my forehead?” Mike gave back. Banter was always good. It would remind him why there was no need to be self-conscious about sharing a bed with Harvey. They were both adults, no big deal.

Even if Harvey was objectively a very good-looking man, especially when he looked at Mike through hooded lids. “Yes.”

“How about you turn it off? Since we are on equal footing now.” And Mike would really like a chance to see if Harvey’s legs fulfilled the promises his backside made earlier.

He could tell by the way the right corner of Harvey’s mouth pulled up that his favorite line was incoming. “In your dreams. You’ll always be my rookie.”

Mike’s heart picked up speed. His rookie?

If Harvey had noticed the slip of tongue—and that was all it had been, of course—he did a damn good job hiding it. He met Mike’s eyes effortlessly, but the crinkled skin around them and the fuzzy feeling in Mike’s chest left no doubt he had heard Harvey correctly.

When he had gotten promoted, part of him—the one that wasn’t busy celebrating—had been sad to lose the relationship he had built with Harvey. They didn’t exactly have the best track record of talking regularly when Mike worked elsewhere. But this, how easily Harvey still claimed him, how tender the my sounded out of his mouth… It was the sweetest high Mike had ever known.

Swallowing, Mike slipped out of the bed-oven and tapped the wall with the light switch, sensing Harvey’s eyes following him. Even in the darkness, they were glowing, beacons of light guiding Mike back to the mattress. He scooted under the blanket—his hand landed on Harvey’s. A spark of something ran up his arm, his skin grew hot.

Harvey didn’t pull back. Didn’t move at all, even when Mike rested his head on the pillow, facing him.

“Your rookie, huh?” It escaped Mike before he remembered why acknowledging the claim was a bad idea, carried the risk of having Harvey withdraw again.

“Damn straight,” Harvey said instead, still shamelessly staring into Mike’s soul, softer than ever. His little finger brushed along the side of his hand, lightly hooked around Mike’s; all words fled from Mike’s brain.

“If you do steal the blanket,” Harvey’s voice was low, “I will make you sleep on the floor.”

“And I will remind you of that cruelty every single day for the rest of our lives.”

“Every day, huh?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Is that a promise?”

Mike needed to swallow; his mouth was suddenly a pool. “Yeah.” It came out as barely more than a breath.

“Tempting.”

Hang on, so he wanted Mike to bug him every day? Was it possible that Harvey missed him too?

“Good night, Mike.” The breath be sighed out lingered on Mike’s lips, fresh and minty. Mike licked across the sensitive flesh.

“Night, Harvey.”

After a moment that lasted an eternity, Harvey closed his eyes. Their fingers were still locked together.

What was happening?

A slap in the face.

Harvey’s cheek tingled, he blinked his eyes open. Mike’s hand was next to his face. He had come closer during the night, now dead center on the mattress, his head on the edge of Harvey’s pillow. Harvey’s foot dangled at the edge of the bed. Seemed like Mike was less of a blanket-hogger and more of a bed-thief.

“Mike…” he croaked and tried to push Mike back onto his side of the bed; his skin was burning against Harvey's palms.

With a grunt, the hand that just backhanded him swung onto his shoulder. Mike’s leg wrapped around his, he pulled himself closer. That wasn’t… oh.

The treacherous heat rushed south in Harvey’s body. He shouldn’t enjoy this. Mike was asleep, he must have him confused with Rachel, that was all. He'd be weirded out if he realized whom he was cuddling up to.

“Mike? You awake?” he tried again. Mike hummed softly, nuzzling into Harvey’s shoulder. The moonlight illuminated his porcelain skin.

“I’m not Rachel.”

At that, Mike sighed, smiled even in his sleep. Harvey’s heart sank. So Mike loved her so much, just the mention of her name got him smiling… And still, he grew heavy on Harvey’s chest. Well, Harvey had done what he could to be a gentleman. Didn’t count as taking advantage when he had tried being noble first, right?

And maybe, his hand landed on Mike’s back because it was comfortable there. If his head fell to the side in a way that happened to bury his nose in the blonde mess spread across his pillow, he could hardly be blamed for it. Mike’s hair smelled like the orange shampoo the hotel provided, enhanced by a baseline of something that was just him. Sweet, tangy. Comforting. Harvey’s eyes fell shut.

Somehow, the restless sleeper that was Mike managed not to wake him up again; it was his alarm, still set for six AM like every morning, that blared them into consciousness. It took Harvey two seconds to realize that he and Mike were still intertwined—in fact, Mike clawed into his back and grunted, hiding his face in his neck. Had he not realized yet?

“Hey…” Harvey muttered.

“D’we have to get up?” Mike slurred, the sleep heavy in each word. Well, since he asked… There had to be some good to taking the later flight.

“No. We got more time.”

Mike hummed appreciatively. Not moving away, even when Harvey cranked his arm back to reach his phone on the side table. If anything, he shifted more on top of Harvey. Any trace of tiredness ran from Harvey’s brain. Did Mike know what he was doing? Was this on purpose?

He had said two guys could share a bed. If that was code for this, maybe… Harvey let his fingertips glide along Mike’s spine, up and down. When Mike hummed, he dared to tease his fingers into Mike’s hair too. He drew circles on his scalp, matching the rhythm of Mike’s deep breaths.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until the alarm went off again. No way it was already one hour later. That was just rude. Why was his phone sabotaging him?

This time, Mike didn’t ask for a continuance. He grunted and yawned, squeezed Harvey as he stretched through his back. His eyes blinked open, revealing the blue depth Harvey got swept away in, no anchor keeping him from drowning in the intensity of Mike’s gaze…

“Oh,” Mike made. His hug loosened, his cheeks turned to a lovely shade of pink. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… eh.”

So it had been a mistake.

“Hold me in a chokehold all night?” Harvey supplied.

The blush intensified to a tomato red. “That.” Funny how bashful the guy who claimed this was no big deal was all of a sudden. Funny how he still hadn’t moved away either.

“I tried to wake you, but you’re a very persistent sleeper.” He stroked some hairs from Mike’s forehead, smoothed them onto the back of his head.

“And you love and respect my stubbornness, so this was fine…?” Oh, if only he knew how fine it was. Except he couldn’t, because he was getting married, and Harvey didn’t have these kinds of feelings for him. Even if he did, the moment to reveal them had passed them by.

“Let’s go with that.”

“In my defense, you are very comfortable to sleep on.” Any other time, with any other person, Harvey would have objected to being turned into a pillow, but…

“Now there’s something I haven’t been called before. Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” The smile on Mike’s lips had no business being so soft. Harvey grew painfully aware of Mike’s knee, still hooked around his, the brush of his chest when it lifted with every inhale. It would be so easy to kiss him like this… If Harvey shifted his weight forward, he would pin Mike underneath him, could straddle him, kiss him until any thoughts of Rachel dissipated…

But that would be cheating, and Harvey would never do that. Not even to be with Mike.

But just because he couldn’t touch Mike like he wanted to didn’t mean he had to cut the moment of Mike touching him short. Then he would be the rude one.

Unfortunately, Mike detangled his limbs and rolled onto his back, arm draped above his head. Still close enough that it would only take a flick of his wrist for Harvey’s hand to brush along his naked leg…

He curled his fingers into a fist to keep them in check.

Mike seemed to have no problem lingering in bed, which was both brilliant and terrible news. The comforter sat just above his hips; his chest was free to be marveled at. Who would have thought he’d be so comfortable hanging out with so few clothes on? If only Harvey had known that earlier, he’d taken him on more business trips where he’d forget to book a second room. Somewhere much nicer, with room service available. Breakfast in bed; he'd get to wipe the crumbs off Mike’s naked body, lick him clean…

No. That was a dangerous train of thought. Danger was no good when he was supposed to be the supportive best man handing over the rings at their wedding in three months.

Harvey sat up against the headboard and tented up his leg for the blanket to conceal his lap. Mike’s eyes followed the movement, wandering down his body. His lip got caught behind his front teeth. Did he like what he saw? Maybe...

To test the waters, Harvey grabbed the plastic water bottle off the side table, took a sip, and let some spill down his face. He made a point of licking the excess from the corner of his lip. A cold drop hit his chest. Mike stared at the exact spot, his lips parted.

Yeah. He liked what he saw. At the very least, he wasn’t appalled. Harvey had no idea what to do with that information. Nothing, probably. There was no denying he was a handsome man, and Mike wasn’t blind. Harvey's looks hadn't stopped him from getting engaged to the woman he loved, so—so why was Mike leaning in?

His thumb swiped away the wetness, his fingers rained onto Harvey’s chest, lingered there for a breath. His eyes were sharp, no sign of drowsiness, no room to chalk this up to a tired mistake. Could he feel Harvey’s rapid heartbeat?

“The shower is more effective,” Mike said. Was that an invitation? That couldn’t be.

Still, Harvey nodded, didn’t trust his mouth not to say the wrong thing and issue an invitation of his own. Mike’s hand withdrew; the print it left behind still burned into Harvey’s skin.

“I’ll do that now,” he rasped, using it as an excuse to throw back the cover and climb out of bed, toward safety before he forgot himself.

“Have fun,” Mike said. His eyes followed Harvey around the corner. Fun was the last thing Harvey could afford to think about right now.

When the water had sufficiently cooled him down, with some more clothes on, he felt better prepared to face Mike again. Even if Mike still insisted on walking around shirtless. Harvey didn’t know whether to thank or curse him for it.

“I was thinking,” Mike said, “Since we still have some time and abstaining from good food didn’t help our luck yesterday, maybe we can indulge today? There’s a coffeeshop that does nice-looking breakfast a few minutes from here.”

They really ought to get to the airport early because Harvey would be damned to miss another flight, and it was already pushing eight. Then again. It wasn’t like they had any bags to check in, and security had been a breeze yesterday. How many chances to have breakfast with Mike would he still get? Not like he could just invite him to a Sunday brunch without raising any suspicions as to why, so…

“Sure. Maybe it’ll appease the air travel gods.”

“My thoughts exactly.” When Mike smiled like this, the idea of missing their flight and staying in Pittsburgh for longer didn’t seem half bad anymore.

The coffee shop looked like a greasy spoon turned café; vines crawled along the white walls, the pollsters of the booths were replaced with a sage green, the round tables stood on delicate, blue legs. The corner in which they got seated was completely covered in faux leaves and roses.

There was something so quaint, so intimate, about sitting with Mike, watching him eat his eggs, witnessing in real time how the coffee fired up his synapses and brought out the bubbliest version of himself, smiling and teasing and adorably celebrating whenever he got as much as a chuckle out of Harvey. This level of playfulness, Harvey was never allowed to encourage in the office, but here, now, he had no reason to dim Mike’s sparkle. He couldn’t get himself to even consider telling Mike to calm down; he preferred listening to every one of Mike’s random, usually ridiculous thoughts.

The crash came when they were waiting by the gate, and Mike’s jittery energy got replaced by silence. At least the flight was on time. They should be boarding any minute now, return to the real world where no Mike Rosses were in his bed or invited him to get food  or—

Mike’s head lowered ontl his shoulder. Strands of his hair tingled Harvey’s neck, he grew heavier, his face melted into the dip where Harvey's neck began. Both his hands fell on Harvey’s lap. Harvey froze into a statue.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?” he muttered.

“You mind?” That wasn’t a yes. Either he hadn’t slept well and had been fully aware that he cuddled Harvey, or he had slept well and there was no need to seek another pillow to rest on now, and he only did this because he wanted to. Both options had Harvey’s chest grow warm.

“No.”

Mike hummed sweetly.

He didn’t seem to actually try for sleep; his fingers twirled around each other, occasionally drew shapes on Harvey’s thigh before letting off again. Couldn’t he hear Harvey’s heart bellowing in his chest? If so, he didn’t mind. Well, if Mike could do it… Harvey leaned his cheek into the orangery that was Mike’s hair, fought the urge to take his hand, the urge to brush his lips over his scalp. That would be a step too far.

The young adult sitting opposite them in baggy clothes with a blue buzzcut smiled, hugging their backpack. A rainbow flag stood out against the pink fabric. Even when their eyes met Harvey’s, they didn’t look away. On the contrary, their smile widened to something familiar, something approving. Oh. Did they think he and Mike were…?

The mix-up should have been his cue to nudge Mike off; a happily engaged man wouldn’t want to be mistakably perceived as his boss’s gay lover. And yet, all Harvey managed to do was smile back.

Knowing that what never could be was real in someone else’s head offered a strange comfort.

Mike’s head was reeling from all the wedding planning. Rachel had been dragging him to an array of vendors for hours. Sure, the cake tasting had been kind of fun, but since then? Pure hell. What did it matter if their napkins were Eggwhite, Seashell, or Bone white? It was a napkin for crying out loud! Mike had not once attended an event and thought well this was nice but I wish the cloth I dabbed my mouth with would have been a different shade of white. No one did. Except for Rachel, clearly. Why couldn’t she have brought Donna along for this?

Thirty minutes of his life he had wasted listening to Rachel overthink whether Eggshell was too yellow and whether Bone would clash with the white tablecloths. What shades of white did not go with each other? They were all white!

In the end, she went with an Alabaster color because that complemented her dress or whatever. Again, no one would notice, let alone care, but Mike hastily agreed before he’d lose more time to stupid napkins.

This stationery store, she had promised would be the last stop of the day. Apparently, it was imperative to choose the right paper for their place cards because the wrong choice would mean their guests couldn’t possibly find their assigned seat or whatever.

“Oh, but look,” Rachel whined, grabbing yet another plastic package from the metal hanger. “This shade would match the ivory napkin we saw earlier perfectly! Did we make a mistake?”

Oh, come on! He never wanted to hear about napkins ever again.

“Why don’t we just take this one?” He took the multipack of a hundred white cards closest to him. “That works.”

“You wanna mix snow white with Alabaster?” Her voice jumped an octave higher. “Do you even care about this wedding?!”

Less so by the hour… Mike pressed his lips together, forced a smile. “How about we take the ivory, and I’ll call the napkin place now and change our selection, okay?” He ran his hands down her arms. The daggers in Rachel’s eyes dulled as she nodded. Thank god, a decision. And the perfect escape to get away from the madness, if just for a minute.

The sidewalk was empty bar a few passers-by absorbed in their phones. Mike leaned against the store façade. He imagined the clerk at the napkin place felt his pain when Mike told him they had changed their minds, again. That “excellent choice, sir,” sounded awfully loaded, anyway, heavy with never come back here undertones that Mike felt deep in his soul. This better had been the last time they interacted prior to the wedding (and after).

The stationery store’s door dinged when it opened for him. Rachel was still in the same aisle, talking to some tall guy, still holding two different colored multipacks. If she had changed her mind again in the last thirty seconds—wait a second. That wasn’t just any tall guy. Mike crossed his arms. “Logan.”

Logan fucking Sanders in a fucking stationery store when they were shopping. What the hell? What was that if not a bad omen for their marriage?

Rachel’s face grew flush in an instant. When Logan turned to him, his annoyingly handsome smile strained. Mike doubted that was how he had looked at Rachel.

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave. Keep your fists to yourself.” He brushed his hand down Rachel's arm. “But it was really nice seeing you.” With that, he walked off. And Rachel’s cheeks grew redder still, she wore a giddy smile like a schoolgirl meeting her celebrity crush—oh.

“He just said hello,” she muttered, awfully defensive when Mike had led no offense against her.

“Right.”

“Really! It was nothing. I chose you, remember?” She steadied herself on his shoulders and pressed a brief kiss onto his cheek. Sure. Except that interaction wasn’t nothing at all. Two minutes ago, she had lost her mind over paper color, and now, she was basically giggling and kicking her feet over meeting the guy she had cheated with. Was there still something going on there?

He had no reason to believe they had been in touch. Rachel wasn’t that kind of person who’d manage to go behind his back for years, of course not. But, if she had the chance, would she go for it? If Mike wasn’t in the picture? …Or even if he was, but consented to her having that chance?

The memory of a sleepy Harvey popped up in his mind, his fingers in Mike’s hair, the effortless smile… Harvey Specter couldn’t possibly be the cuddling type, and yet, he had held Mike all night, warming him with that body that defied all signs of aging…

That night had felt different from their usual dynamic. Well, not different, he had always been comfortable with Harvey, but rather… uncharted. They had been swimming on the same wavelength for a while, getting further and further carried away, and that night, they had reached new waters that required holding onto each other so they wouldn’t drown. Mike would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t curious about what lay below the surface.

Part of him had been wondering what it would be like to be with a man, ever since he had walked in on Trevor and Jenny. Seeing him bend over, at the mercy of her strap-on... that had been hot in ways he couldn’t find words for at the time.

He had always been attracted to strong women; back then, he had chalked his arousal at that image up to being attracted to Jenny, too. Their relationship had not lasted long enough for him to ask her to fuck him like she had Trevor. Rachel had never given him any indication she’d be open to that at all; much as she liked to give instructions, she never even wanted to be on top. And that was okay. If he was really honest with himself, the idea of getting fucked wasn’t hot because women in charge were hot—but because of the instrument Jenny had wielded.

Would Harvey be interested in wielding his? Mike had never seen him flirt with a man. But that night in the hotel… he could have sworn there was something there. Maybe it wasn’t as sexual as he made it out to be, but if it was, if there was a chance…

The rest of his life was a long time to have sex with the same person. Was it so wrong to have one more experience before, just so neither he nor Rachel was left wondering?

He tried to find a moment to bring it up, a natural segue in his sparse conversations with Rachel on their way home. None came. Hard to go from wedding planning to how would you feel if I let Harvey fuck me.

He couldn’t let such an opportunity go to waste either, though, so after dinner—usually the time when Rachel was in the best mood of the day—he decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Do you ever think about what could have happened between you and Logan?”

Rachel’s eyes snapped away from her phone. She frowned. “Why would you ask me that? I told you, he just said hi.”

“Yes, today. But you did kiss him, back then.”

“That was ages ago. I don’t…” She shook her head as if the very idea that she was attracted to the guy whose presence had her blushing was ridiculous. Mike clawed into his thighs. This wouldn’t work if he had misread their interaction.

“You sure? It would be okay—”

“What’s your point, Mike?” She snapped. Spoken like a woman who was being completely honest with herself and him about being over Logan Sanders.

“I guess I’m saying, I don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out. So if there is something with Logan—or anyone—you’d like to explore to, you know, move on without regrets, I’d want you to have that.” The inside of his cheek grew raw under the edges of his teeth.

“Are you suggesting some kind of hall pass?” It didn’t sound appalled, rather intrigued. Mike’s breath hitched. Okay, nearly there. If he played it cool now, he could bring this home.

He shrugged. “If you’re interested?”

“For both of us? Because if it’s just me, I’d feel like I’m cheating on you—”

“Fair is fair.” If she could live her wildest fantasies with Logan, he should have the right to do the same with Harvey.

“Huh.” She pursed her lips like she was thinking about it. “And who do you want a hall pass for? Any exes you still think about?”

“No.” His fingers cramped around each other. Nails dug into his skin. “I think… I’ll go out with Harvey. See what happens.”

There. A sort of admittance that he might possibly be a little gay. She’d be okay with that, right? They had gay friends. For all he dared to hope, Harvey was one of them.

“Huh. I mean. There’d be no harm done, right?”

“Exactly! It could be good to have a break from all the wedding planning stress. You know, unwinding without my face serving as a reminder for all the things on your to do list.”

“Yeah. Okay.” She huffed a smile, pressed a peck onto his lips before she got up. “I’ll message Logan.”

So she did still have his number. Given the circumstances, that was great news, and Mike would not question it further. This had been easy. Mike couldn’t care about the why; he was too busy picturing how he’d issue the invitation to Harvey.

Logan’s reply was instant; he suggested Friday night for their date. That should work. They agreed to make it a whole-night-thing so no deadline would loom over them, and to meet Saturday for brunch to carry on as if nothing had happened. Now that wedding prep, Mike was all over.

The next day, he marched into Harvey’s office first thing, covering the mic to Donna’s desk with his hand. Harvey regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. We’re going out Friday night. I don’t care what else you got planned, cancel it.”

“Since when do you think you can give me orders?”

Mike leaned onto the desk. “Since you denied me a proper dinner in Pittsburgh.” Harvey stared right into his soul; an electric spark rushed through his body. He couldn’t possibly be making this up, right?

“Friday sounds good.”

“Great.”

To not give Harvey any room for jokes about being the side chick, Mike pulled out all the stops. He called three restaurants until he found one that would squeeze them in: the host promised the table was in a secluded area too for maximum privacy. Mike signed them up for a three-course meal—the restaurant was so boogie, all the plates were tiny. He had done tons of research last night; no way he’d let a heavy meal get between his ass and Harvey’s dick.

He left work early to get in a change of clothes before Rachel came home. Kissing her goodbye and waving her off to go hook up with Logan was a little too weird. Besides, he didn’t need her asking questions like why do you never dress like this for me. This suit was new, he hadn’t had a chance to take it out for a spin yet. Harvey so would approve. It was a René-special; made of azure blue cotton he paired with a white shirt, a bow tie for a change, and matching brown shoes. This was supposed to be his Bachelor party outfit, but a date with the Harbez Specter was an even better occasion. If a perfect suit didn’t get Harvey salivating, nothing would.

He insisted on being the one to pick Harvey up for a change. Harvey wasn’t the only one who could hire a driver and a car for the night. Mike had been looking forward to doing the whole song and dance of picking Harvey up at his door, but Harvey walked out of the building the moment they pulled up. Shame. At least Mike could see his reaction to him climbing out of the black of the Rolls-Royce Phantom; Harvey’s eyebrows jumped up, his mouth opened just enough to count as ajar. Beautiful.

“What’s all this? Did I forget our anniversary, honey?” Harvey greeted. Something in Mike’s chest fluttered at the honey, even dripping with sarcasm as it was.

“Does there need to be a reason for us to get dinner in style? I just wanna have a good night.”

“Are you dying?”

“No,” Mike chuckled. “Come on.”

He held the door to the backseat open. Harvey side-eyed him when he climbed in. He held his peace until the car pulled back onto the road, then: “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“It’s called La Grande Boucherie.”

“In Midtown?” Always so quick with the judgment. Between them, Mike was the one who had grown up in the city.

“Yes, but it’s nearly eight. All the theatre goers will be gone.” Crowded surroundings aside, the place was beautiful. And the fries alone cost, like, fifty bucks, so Harvey better appreciate it and not whine because some tourists were around, as if he hadn’t once been a tourist here himself.

The driver dropped them off at the entrance of the restaurant. The inside was reminiscent of an old theater with the gallery seating and long bar. The stained-glass ceiling and chandeliers coated the room in a gentle amber light. As promised, they got a table with some privacy on the upper floor. The waiter assured them he’d be right back with a bottle of champagne. All this was even more spectacular than he planned—and Harvey still hadn’t smiled once. What was Mike missing here?

“Something the matter?” he asked.

“This is… A lot.” Oh. A lot, as in, too much of the wrong thing? Minimalism had never been Harvey's style.

“Is it not nice enough for you?” There were only so many ways to beat upscale French food for date nights, and he wasn’t sure if Harvey would enjoy going hot air ballooning. What if he had a secret fear of heights, and their night would have been ruined?

“Too nice for you. What’s going on?”

“Can’t I just take my best friend out for dinner?”

Harvey cocked an eyebrow. He better not be questioning that best friend label, Mike knew what they were. What he wanted to know was what else they could become.

“What’s going on, Mike?”

Fine. He had hoped this could wait until after the shrimp tower had arrived, but... well, if this blew up in his face, at least he’d save a lot of money on fancy food. Hardly a consolation.

He had practiced this conversation a million times in his head, but now, faced with the concern carving lines into Harvey’s forehead, his eidetic memory failed him.

“Did you ever… I mean, do you think you might be… interested? In men?” His ears grew hot. What a way to bumble into this.

Harvey’s eyes narrowed. “Where does this come from?”

“I mean… That night in Pittsburgh. That was… I don’t know, it seemed. A little. Gay.” Mike swallowed.

Harvey leaned back in his chair. “What happened to two guys can share a bed?”

“They can! I meant more, what happened during. I thought maybe there was… something there. A vibe.” Harvey had held him all night, after all. He had checked him out in his underwear, and what other explanation was there for the accidental brushes that had lingered too long? Mike hadn’t had that much tension with Rachel, ever.

But Harvey sighed, his gaze low. “Mike. You’re getting married. You’re nervous, I get it. Commitment that big messes with you.”

Mike’s stomach clenched. “So it was all in my head?”

Silence. With every second it lasted, he felt his heart shrinking. Right. Well, at least he had taken the shot. Maybe Rachel had missed too, and they’d both be back in bed with each other for some pity sex… it had been a while for them. Since his proposal, actually.

“I see. That’s too bad,” Mike chuckled nervously and ran a hand through his hair. The ghost of Harvey’s touch lingered there. “Rachel and I kind of gave ourselves a hallpass before marriage, but…”

Harvey’s wide eyes shot toward him. “What?”

“She’s with Logan Sanders right now, making sure she did well not exploring that further.”

“And you picked me?”

“I thought if there had been something there, it would be a shame to let that linger between us if we could get it out of our system instead, but clearly I was wrong, so let’s just eat—”

Harvey’s hand suddenly on top of his shut him up. “Is this real? Because you know that I will not help you cheat.”

So he was interested! Mike was powerless against the smile that overtook his face. “It’s real.”

“And Rachel is okay with this?”

“She gets to have her last bit of freedom. I get mine.” He spread his fingers apart; Harvey’s glided between the gaps.

“Okay.” The word was barely more than a whisper, but it sent a jolt through Mike’s entire body.

“Okay.” This was happening. He and Harvey, after all these years… The cook better be the fastest worker ever because Mike could not wait to get Harvey out of that rudely attractive suit.

Harvey let go of his hand when the champagne arrived, but only long enough to cheers before their fingers naturally gravitated back into an embrace. Even when their hands were too busy eating, his foot glided up Mike’s calf.

All the charm Mike usually saw reserved for hot women was suddenly focused on him, a force much greater than Mike had anticipated. He felt like the only person on the planet who mattered, like every word he said was the single most important thing Harvey had ever heard. And best of all, it felt utterly sincere. Existing with him in this way felt so natural. So overdue.

Granted, being around Harvey had only ever required effort when he was determined to be a dick/dictator commanding Mike around at work. Outside, he had always been pleasant company, but tonight… Mike didn’t have the words to describe how soft he seemed. How real. Like he was the luckiest man alive to be sharing this night with Mike. Was this how all his dates felt? How did they manage not to fall in love with him?

Mike practically threw his credit card at the waiter to get out already. Every second of the ride back was drenched in sweet agony. Harvey’s hand was on his thigh, drawing figures of eight, fingering along his inseam. His little finger brushed over Mike’s crotch, soft as if it were an accident, except that he was smirking. Mike grew harder at the sight. He rested his chin on Harvey’s shoulder. He’d kiss Harvey—god, did he want to—but he feared they wouldn’t make it out of the car then, not without doing something scandalous the rental company would sue him for.

Harvey’s hand, as low on his spine as possible to still pass as somewhat decent, guided him into the building. In the elevator, the hand wandered to Mike’s hip, tugged him close. Mike returned the favor by letting his palm glide over Harvey’s ass; just as firm as it looked. Thank god for his gym routine. Harvey’s nose traced over his temple. His lips followed; the sound of them leaving skin had Mike’s stomach flutter. He so couldn’t wait.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he entered the condo. So many times he had been here for a drink and chat; not once had it occurred to him to make a move on Harvey. He couldn’t help the sting of regret that pierced his chest, ridiculous as it was.

For all he knew, hooking up with Harvey would be shit, the reassurance he needed that he was straight and did the right thing, committing to Rachel. After all, Harvey Specter didn’t do half measures, which was why he was perfect for this. If Mike didn’t like having sex with him, he wouldn’t like it with any man.

Harvey didn’t go further than three paces into the living room; Mike followed him until the tips of their shoes touched. Harvey grabbed him by the lapels and slowly, mindfully, maneuvered the fabric off his shoulders. His breath tickled Mike’s skin. The heat of his chest radiating against Mike's had the butterflies come alive. Mike’s whole body was on fire, aching with an urge to be touched.

Harvey tossed the jacket onto the couch. One hand wandered onto Mike’s hip, the other tenderly cupped Mike’s cheek. Mike’s breath hitched, his heart was racing. He watched in awe how Harvey wetted his lips, plumb and ready to be claimed…

“How do you want to do this?” Harvey whispered.

“I…” Mike swallowed when Harvey’s thumb stroked over his cheekbone. “Was kind of hoping you’d have some experience.”

“A little. College is many years ago.”

Good enough. Mike leaned in further, dared to hook his finger through Harvey’s belt loops. “I want to try everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything you let me.” Top, bottom, blow- or handjob, it didn’t matter. He was dying to find out how Harvey’s hands felt on his body, learn the ways of his tongue…

Harvey’s hand glided to the back of his head, he leaned in. Finally, finally, their lips met in a kiss of life. Softly at first, nothing but a quick brush along Mike’s bottom lip. Mike chased the touch, pressed into Harvey. His heart pounded so hard, it threatened to burst through his ribcage.

He fisted into the side of Harvey’s pants to get him closer, but Harvey didn’t deepen the kiss; he was sweet, gentle, treating him to a series of tender, lingering pecks that had Mike hum. How did this already feel so good? They hadn’t even started yet! And yet, if trading slow, innocent kisses was all they did tonight, it would have been a hallpass well spent.

Harvey rested his forehead against his. “Care for another drink?” The roughness in his voice sent a shiver down Mike’s spine. The growing bulge in Mike’s pants whined about its confinement.

“A small one.”

“Okay…” Harvey pressed another kiss on his lips as if it was the most natural thing in the world—it was—and disappeared into the kitchen. Mike fanned himself air to cool the lava coursing through his veins. They had all night, no need to jump right in.

He sat on the couch, rubbed the sweat off his palms and onto his pants leg. This would be fun. Yeah. He might be inexperienced, but he and Harvey always had been the best of teams. They’d figure this out, too.

Harvey approached with quiet steps, wordlessly offering the whiskey tumbler before he sat down next to him, their thighs touching. The clink of the glasses cut through the tension in the air. Instead of taking a sip, Harvey leaned in again, stealing a soft kiss that had Mike ache for more. He sneaked his hand on Harvey’s lap, let his fingers glide to his inner thigh.  

At long last, Harvey’s licked over his lips; Mike opened his mouth willingly and got lost in the dance of their tongues. No battle for dominance, no mindless claiming, it was so… sweet. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed him like this, like they cherished every second.

Too soon, though not without a smile that had Mike claw into his thigh, Harvey pulled back and tended to his whiskey.

“You’re a good kisser,” Mike muttered, pushing every thought of whether that was an appropriate thing to say to a one-night stand away. It was an objective fact.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

What, that was it? No bickering remark about how he was the best, how that shouldn’t be a surprise? God. Mike took one sip of liquid courage before he placed the glass onto the table in front of them and got onto his knees. He crawled on top of Harvey, straddling him. A smirking Harvey sank into the corner of the couch.

The hardness in their pants pressed against each other; somehow, Mike found the strength to ignore that for now. He sandwiched Harvey’s face between his hands and kissed him again, long and indulgent. Harvey did not attempt to take over; his fingers stroked up and down the length of Mike’s spine.

When Mike paused to breathe, Harvey kissed his cheek, his jaw. Nibbled at his neck with a low hum that had Mike grow harder for him. “I didn’t think you’d be so gentle…”

“Do you want me to go rough?”

“No! This is perfect. I just always imagined you getting lost in the passion.” He bit his lip at the admission that he had thought about sleeping with Harvey. If Harvey caught it—he must have—he didn’t care to tease Mike about it.

“We only have one night. I wanna make the most out of it.”

Yeah. Yeah, Mike wanted that too.

He went back for more sensual kisses, humming and moaning, a buildup that could have lasted forever and still wouldn’t be long enough. Harvey tucked at Mike’s shirt, bit by bit pulled it out of his pants; his fingers, cold against Mike’s overheating skin, dipped under the fabric and caressed the small of his back.

“Do you want me to take it off?” Mike whispered. Nothing Harvey hadn’t seen before, but maybe, he’d still enjoy watching Mike strip for him.

Harvey’s reply was a soft hum. He graced Mike with a kiss, steadied him by the base of his spine when he leaned toward the table to place his own glass down too. “Let me.”

Oh, gladly. Mike rolled his shoulders back, sucked in his stomach, tried to be as presentable as possible while Harvey guided one button after the other through its corresponding hole. His hands ran along Mike’s exposed upper body, a little bigger, more dimpled, more mature than it used to be when Harvey hired him. Harvey pinched Mike’s nipple just hard enough to feel it without causing pain, shaking his head slightly. Mike’s heart sank.

“What? Don’t like what you see?”

Harvey’s eyebrows cringed together into the most extreme version of his don’t-be-stupid expression that Mike ever had the privilege to witness. “Shut up. You’re hot and you know it. I’m just thinking of all the years I’ve wasted getting you into better clothes when I should have worked on getting you out of them…”

Harvey had thought about him like that all this time too? How had it taken them this long to act on it? Why the hell had he let Mike get engaged to Rachel?

“Wish you would have said something.”

“Wasn’t my place. I was your boss and you were barely ever single.”

Ah. Yes. There was that. Well, no point dwelling on the past—sounded like they had plenty to catch up on.

He kissed Harvey again, and because fair was fair, he got to work on Harvey’s shirt too, stroking down his smooth, firm chest. Beautiful did not do him justice. He buried his hand into Harvey’s hair, kissed him once more, rutting against his growing erection. Harvey’s hand fidgeted with Mike's belt, his pants’ button.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” He reached inside; the moment he grabbed Mike’s dick, rock hard and wet with precum, Mike moaned. Yes, please.

“I’m gonna make you come all over me, and then, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t remember your own name anymore, only mine.”

Mike nodded eagerly. Harvey’s thumb swiped across the tip of his dick, squeezing him slightly. Fuck, he was making a good start on that promise already—Harvey’s name was attached to his every thought while he tried to fathom that it was Harvey’s hand jerking him off, how his dark eyes intently studied each of Mike’s movements, never denying him a kiss, always teasing him.

Mike did not last long. He came in one big explosion, splattering all over Harvey’s stomach, his chest. His ears rang from the blood rushing through them; there was no relief, only the need for more. Harvey’s grin was in equal parts delighted and filthy.

“Clean this up.”

Right. Tissues. Eh…

Harvey grabbed him by the hair and pulled him down. Oh. Oh, gladly. He licked down Harvey’s chest, his stomach, circled his belly button before he nuzzled into his crotch. He freed Harvey’s hard, pulsating dick, couldn’t resist licking over the salty tip. God. Mike was so, so ready to move on to the next step of that immaculate plan.

He batted his eyelids, hoped it looked sexy. “Are you gonna fuck me now, or can I return the favor first?”

Harvey shook his head no. “Bedroom. Now.”

Mike hopped off him, only paused to store his dick in his boxers before he jogged to the bedroom. Harvey was right behind him. He caught Mike by the hips inches away from the bed, turning him around to kiss him. Mike chuckled into it, wrapped his arm around Harvey’s neck. Harvey grabbed his thighs and threw him onto the mattress. Fuck, he was hot.

The fabric of his pants cascaded down Harvey’s strong thighs. He stood proud and naked for Mike to admire. All his, if just for a night.

Mike kicked his pants off too, let them bunch onto the floor. The sheets were perfectly soft under his naked ass.

Harvey reached into the bedside table, producing a stack of condoms—Mike grew hard again at that declaration of intent—and a bottle of lube he threw onto the sheets. Mike got onto his knees and welcomed him into his arms, clawing into the back of his neck. Small, red stripes were left behind when he let go. His markings on Harvey. What a sight to behold. Almost as good as Harvey’s devilish lips devouring him. Their hard dicks collided with every movement; every touch set off a firework in Mike’s groin, he panted for air.

“Are you nervous?” Harvey asked. God, the care. Mike was at a real risk of merging with the mattress with how he was melting.

“No.” This was Harvey. He always took care of him. “Do what you what you want to me.”

Harvey licked his lips. “That is a dangerous invitation.”

“I stand by it. I want you so bad…”

Harvey pounced at him with a primal growl that had the hairs on Mike’s arm stand to attention. His weight pinned Mike to the mattress. The softness vanished; he could barely keep up with Harvey’s demanding touch, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

Their tongues settled into a hasty rhythm. He sank his fingernails into the perfect curve of Harvey’s ass. Feeling Harvey rut against him, feeling his lubed-up fingers dip inside of him, it was like a divine intervention, burning his straight label to ashes and scattering them in the wind.

He eagerly turned to his hands and knees, arched his back for Harvey. The apocalypse could be upon them, and he still wouldn’t be able to care about anything but Harvey working him open, deeply and thoroughly, and fuck. What wasn’t he good at?

When Harvey’s dick rutted between his ass cheeks to lube up, when his tip finally pressed into Mike, Mike fisted into these way too nice sheets about to be desecrated. Discomfort mixed with a strange pleasure. He focused on his breathing, begged his body to relax, to accept the gift Harvey was about to bestow on him.

“You’re doing so well… My beautiful rookie…” Harvey purred, and just for that, Mike jerked his hips back until  Harvey was buried balls deep inside of him. Harvey clawed into his hips, he moaned deeply. It went through Mike like a shot of heroin.

“You’re so good… so good…” Harvey muttered, thrusting gingerly. Mike bit his lips, his face cringed together at the dull sting. There was something so damn intoxicating about being stretched to the max, knowing it was Harvey who filled him up in a way he hadn’t filled anyone, at least not in a while. Because Mike was special. He was his rookie, forever would be. And Harvey would forever be his first—the first to fuck him, the first to believe in him, the first to risk it all to offer him a better life.

Mike couldn’t say when pleasure had overshadowed pain, but when Harvey thrusted in him this time, every cell in his body screamed in delight, stars danced in front of his eyes. He threw his head back and did something he had never done before: he cried out. Harvey grabbed his hair, steadied himself as he kept going deeper and deeper, and Mike lost it. The pressure inside him built to a boiling point. He needed the release, needed it all, right now. His hand flew over his dick—Harvey grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t. You’ll need that when you fuck me.”

As in, right after? Fuck, just being granted permission to access Harvey Specter’s ass nearly had him come. Harvey pushed him forward; Mike collapsed stomach-first onto the sheet, arching his ass up. Every movement provided the tiniest of friction, teasing him, tantalizing his dick.

Harvey yelped; his movements turned fast and staccato, hard and deep. “Oh, yes. Fuck, Mike, fuck. You’re so fucking perfect.”

And Mike spent himself onto the cotton sheets with a loud whine. His whole body trembled from the aftershock of his orgasm—the second sweetest thing to happen. Harvey had called him perfect. Him!

Harvey lay on top of him, still humming with every panted breath, right by Mike’s ear.

“So perfect…” he whispered again, kissed the back of Mike’s neck, down his pulse. Fuck. If he had known this was all it took to get Harvey to praise him, he’d have bared his ass for him every day of his employment. He couldn’t resist, he cranked his head around and kissed Harvey again. He had gone too long without his lips.

Harvey rolled to the side, pulled him into a little spoon position. His hand traced down Mike’s stomach, briefly brushing over his flaccid dick.

“Sorry,” Mike muttered. It would have been hot to keep fucking Harvey right after he came inside of him…

“Shut up. Never apologize for enjoying yourself with me.” He leaned over Mike, licked his lips; Mike happily granted him entrance. When they came apart, Harvey grinned.

Mike brushed over his mouth’s sharp edge, along Harvey’s swollen lip. “What?”

“Not many people can make someone come during their first time bottoming.”

The laugh bubbled out of Mike without his consent. “I’m so glad I could flatter your ego.”

“You’re really good at that. Your helpless puppy energy always makes me look extra competent.”

“That so, huh?”

“And when you whisper information to me so I can look even smarter? Oh, you have no idea how often I wanted to just bend you over the table for it…”

God. In the office, glass walls be damned. Let whoever wanted to watch them, see how Harvey claimed his rookie…

“Damn your self-control,” Mike whimpered and pulled him into another hungry kiss. He just couldn’t stop—and ignored the voice reminding him that might become a problem in the future. The future didn’t exist, not now. It was just him and Harvey in their own private world—which Harvey rudely dared to leave to throw away the condom and clean up or whatever.

Mike rolled away from the wet spot. His ass was burning despite the lube slowly drying on his skin. Shame he wouldn’t have a chance to get used to getting fucked like this. How fun it would be to always be ready for Harvey to take him…

Harvey’s bare feet patted across his floor, his dick swung side to side with every step. He held a glass of water out to Mike before he sat down. “Here. Hydrate.”

“Thanks.” Instead of drinking it, he pulled Harvey in by the chin to let his tongue prove his gratitude.

“Drink the water,” Harvey commanded against his lips.

“Yeah, yeah…” He emptied the glass in two gulps, put it on the side next to Harvey’s half-empty one, and pulled Harvey back on top of him. Chuckling, Harvey connected their lips once more.

Mike let his hand wander down his back, squeezed his ass. “Are you tired?”

“Of you? Never.”

A hot flash rushed through Mike, right into his groin. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it really turns me on.” He flipped Harvey onto his back, climbed on top of him. Good view from up here. About time Harvey was the one being looked down upon…

“Do you want to fuck me now or later?”

“Both?”

A filthy smirk had never looked so good. “Correct. Have at me.”

“I thought that was a dangerous invitation to make?”

“When has danger ever stopped us?” Harvey rasped, and ugh, Mike couldn’t with this man. How was anyone allowed to be this effortlessly sexy? He needed to get his dick in Harvey before he burst.

He did his best to reproduce what Harvey had done to him, what he had seen men do to each other in some very detailed, instructive internet videos. He didn’t know what constituted being ready, but when his dick was rock-solid and pulsating again, he couldn’t wait any longer.

Harvey didn’t even flinch; his body melted perfectly around Mike. So much for not having done this since college. Mike would bring it up when he was capable of speech again, when the tightness didn’t squeeze the last brain cells out of him.

Harvey threw him a lascivious look over his shoulder as he moaned; he offered noises of pleasure with abundance, cursed and moaned, and whispered praise under his breath. The great Harvey Specter, wincing and sweating and biting his lip, all because of Mike… Mike should have been able to last forever after all the orgasms he had tonight already, but no. His body didn’t know any limits when it came to Harvey. He felt heights of pleasure he had not been able to fathom before.

This time, the climax was followed by a wave of exhaustion that had him collapse into Harvey. Chest heaving, he pressed a kiss on Harvey’s sweaty shoulder, wrapped his arm tightly around his middle. Harvey’s hand came on top of his fist, guiding it to his lips, which he brushed over Mike’s knuckles.

Mike traced his nose along his neck. “So… you’re seriously trying to tell me you haven’t done this in a while?”

“I haven’t. With another person.”

“What?”

“If you want me to introduce you to my toy collection, we’ll need more than one night.”

Oh. Mike hadn’t even thought about that realm of possibilities. How fun it would be to let Harvey play with him in that way too, or even better: watch Harvey play with himself.

“I like the idea of you going to town on yourself...”

“I like the reality of you doing it more.”

He… where had this soft side been all these years? Mike swung himself over him to get to Harvey’s front, just to kiss him without worrying about neck pains, for however long he was allowed to. He wouldn’t stop at all, but Harvey did. Eyes still closed, arms still around Mike, he tilted his chin back.

“Are you gonna cuddle me all night again?” he asked.

Yes. But only if Harvey wanted that too.

“Did you like it?”

“Cannot confirm or deny.”

“So that’s a yes.”

“I plead the fifth.” And yet, he pulled Mike tighter. Even better, being the cuddlee. Now he didn’t need to worry about stealing the blanket; Harvey would keep him warm.

He couldn’t say when he fell asleep, only that when he woke up in the morning, he was still bundled into the safe embrace of Harvey’s arms, face to face with that sleepy expression he was allowed to kiss away. And perhaps they got carried away after that; perhaps Harvey had fished the bottle of lube out from under his pillow and shoved it into Mike’s hand, meeting his questioning eyebrow with a “You’re telling me your ass isn’t sore from last night?” and fair point, it was. In return, Mike asked to see Harvey’s toy collection after all. He had said everything, he meant everything.

Harvey didn’t argue. His hand vanished in the drawer and, after some digging, he pulled out what he called a prostate massager that he lubed up and placed into Mike’s ass, and fuck. Mike was getting himself one of these. It might not replace the real deal, but feeling the vibrations while nestled between Harvey’s bent legs, getting the full show of his face when he thrusted into him… he swore he used to have better stamina than this. In fact, Rachel had more than once gotten annoyed at he long he took to finish; with Harvey, he seemed not to have enough time at all.

They finally ran out of steam when they hit the showers. Their hands didn’t exactly stay above the metaphorical belt, but things remained innocent—and one of the most intimate showers Mike had ever shared with someone in his life, dotted with sweet kisses and constant appreciative squeezes of his skin. How was he supposed to go back to his life, knowing this was an option?

His brunch with Rachel was at eleven, and time passed mercilessly. Try as he might to stay naked for as long as he could, the digits on Harvey’s clock kept changing, and eventually, he had to put his suit back on. The cotton itched against his overheated skin.

Harvey walked him to the door. Before he could grab the handle, five fingers curled around his arm and yanked; his back hit wood. Harvey brought their foreheads together.

“I have to go,” Mike whispered. Every word of farewell tasted like vinegar in his mouth.

“I know.”

“Thank you, though. Would have been a shame to miss out on this.”

“I agree…” Harvey’s thumb brushed over his cheek, his breath tickled Mike’s lips—fuck it. Mike kissed him vigorously, with everything he still had to give. Technically, their time wasn’t up until he stepped out of the apartment.

It was the death of his punctuality; making out with Harvey was just too good, a drug Mike was not ready to quit just yet. And when he felt Harvey growing hard once more, leaving just wasn’t an option. Not yet.

“You’re insatiable.” Mike grinned and rolled his hip.

“Can’t help it with you.”

Damn right. Because Harvey wanted him too, and Mike was the luckiest son of a bitch alive. He did owe Harvey an orgasm still, after that first handjob, and there was one thing he hadn’t gotten the chance to properly experience yet…

He undid the belt on Harvey’s silk robe and stroked his dick. “Maybe a final taste goodbye.” He sank to his knees and took as much of Harvey as he could manage into his mouth, bopping his head.

“Oh, fuck…” Harvey cursed, steadying himself on the door. Mike shared the sentiment, so much.

Since he was already running late anyway, he took his time to make it good for Harvey, cherish these last moments together. With the salty treat of his orgasm, who even needed brunch anymore?

Never had he had such a sinking feeling in his chest after a night of unbridled fucking, but when he kissed Harvey, knowing he’d have to kiss Rachel with the same lips later… how soon would the memory of Harvey's touch fade?

The thought killed his boner before Harvey had a chance to think about reciprocating. Instead, he held Mike’s face between his palms, running his thumbs over his cheeks like Mike was a piece of art he admired.

“I see you on Monday,” Harvey muttered. The reminder of what they were supposed to be—friends, coworkers—punched Mike in the gut. He pressed his lips on Harvey’s for one final goodbye.

I love you. It was at the tip of his tongue, begging for permission to be let out—Mike squeezed his lips shut. Now he was truly getting ridiculous. He was just tired and blissed out from the most intense night of his life, and his brain got confused. Yeah.

He swallowed and opened the door. Not looking back at Harvey was an impossible task he failed twice on his way to the elevator. He ignored the pit opening in his stomach—he was merely hungry.

Rachel already waited for him at the restaurant. If she minded his half-hour delay he absolutely would blame on traffic, she didn’t say anything, which meant she didn’t. The way she was glowing, full of a giddy energy Mike hadn’t seen on her in months, if not longer, she probably didn’t even notice Mike was late.

She pulled him into a brief hug, brought her lips to his; Mike couldn’t get himself to linger in the touch. His butt hurt when he sat on the hard chair. He dreaded not feeling the sting anymore, the proof that last night had happened, feared the memory of Harvey’s dick in him would fade…

Rachel talked on and on about just how needed last night had been, how relaxed she was, how she now was surer than ever that Mike was the one for her—Mike’s insides turned into a knot when he told her he felt the same way.

“So it went okay with Harvey then?”

Understatement of the century.

“Yeah. It was fun.” Rachel nodded like she was pleased with that.

“The napkins they have here are really cute, don’t you think? Maybe we should ask them where they got them—”

He let the words pass him by and poked at his eggs. His tongue traced along the inside of his lip, slightly swollen from Harvey’s teeth, sensitive to his touch.

How the hell was he supposed to move on from this?

“I was kidding about wanting a party,” Mike whined. Please, Harvey hadn’t forgotten their conversation. He hadn’t forgotten anything about Pittsburgh, period. It played on his mind more times than he cared to admit, how a single night had been enough for Mike to make the move Harvey had never dared to make, to take him out on a date and fall into bed with him.

Two weeks had passed since that magical night, fourteen days filled with memories of what he would never have again, because the ring on Rachel’s finger had gone nowhere.

That was fine, of course. Expected. Mike at no point had as much as hinted at their night of relentless fucking serving as a test drive, a taster session that could open up future opportunities. He had seen his chance, got his answer, and now he’d walk down the aisle knowing damn well what Harvey’s dick inside him felt like and choosing not to come back for seconds. Harvey wished that knowledge would be comforting—in reality, it was borderline torturous.

But it wasn’t about him. It had never been, not since he had met Mike. Mike had needed a job, and Harvey gave him one. He had needed a mentor, Harvey became one. He had wanted a friend, Harvey, without realizing, had obliged. He wanted one steamy night with a man, and Harvey was too selfish to decline the honor. And now, he wanted to get married to Rachel, and Harvey would be damned if he didn’t live up to his duties as a best man just because he got a semi every time he looked at Mike these days, as if one night had been enough to override years of platonic friendship and pavloved him into arousal.

“As your best man, it is my duty to take you out.”

Mike’s eyes shot toward him a little too quickly. “Just you and me?” The words were tinged with a hope he had no business offering for someone who had requested one night only.

The truth was, Harvey’s dick didn’t just respond because of mere memories. Something had changed between them. Harvey distinctly remembered that their eyes used to meet before too, but now, they induced a hot flash that saw Harvey cross his legs and Mike’s face turn pink. He knew he and Mike used to be able to be alone in a room together, talk and joke and tease, without descending into sexual innuendos that had Harvey’s mouth water. He knew they used to be able to touch casually, but now, every connection invited them to linger, whispering you know every inch of that body, what difference does touching it some more make now?

Except it did make a difference, because every touch meant Mike was smiling that damned smile that had Harvey reconsider his whole morality regarding affairs, and that could not happen. He wouldn’t risk ruining their friendship by trying for a repeat. He had been silent about his attraction for years; he had no right to pull some it’s always been you romcom bullshit now. Mike didn’t deserve that, and Rachel didn’t either, and Harvey was not big enough of a prick to break up a happy couple for his own selfish desires.

“Is that a good idea?” he asked, his voice rougher than he wanted it to be.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?” Mike’s elbow brushed against his; he leaned too deliberately against Harvey for that to have been an accident, despite being in the middle of Harvey’s glass office. The very office that a way too observant Donna sat in front of, the office in which Mike’s fiancée worked in whenever she assisted Harvey on one of his cases. Harvey swallowed as he pulled away.

“I’ve invited a few more people.” People who Mike seemed close to while he was an associate, people who would keep all conversation strictly hetero over whiskey and steaks. Nowhere near as lavish as Mike’s Las Vegas request, but ultimately something he’d enjoy more. Something much safer involving no hotel rooms and the risk of an insufficient number of beds.

He must have imagined the sparkle in Mike’s eyes dimming—that would be strange behavior for someone happy to get married to someone who was not Harvey. “Okay. Thank you.”

Harvey nodded. They’d have a fun time regardless of who else was there. It was hard not to enjoy time with Mike, lest they were fighting over a case. Although, being challenged like that had been—was—fun in its own right too.

He reached for the door to let Mike out—his fingers clashed with Mike’s, trying to do the same. Heat shot up his arm, buzzing and tingling as if the touch electrocuted him. If it did, that would explain the somersaults his heart did, too fast for its usual rhythm.

And Mike blushed. God, he needed to stop doing that. Harvey was trying to be happy for him here! Whatever embarrassment overcame him—and Harvey had to pretend it was nothing but embarrassment for his own sanity—he better get over it before anyone got the wrong idea tonight. At least Mike withdrew his hand too, which meant Harvey could be a gentleman after all and hold the door open for him.

Mike was still smiling that smile which Harvey knew how sweet it tasted, how perfect it looked wrapped around his dick… He barely registered that he leaned in until his chest bumped Mike’s shoulder, too hypnotized by the eyes that encompassed worlds…

“Mike,” Rachel’s sharp voice cut through the thickness of the moment. Harvey snapped upright. She was standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, her knuckles white against her brown skin. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Guess I’ll see you later,” Mike rasped in a voice that had no right to be that sexy, keeping their eyes locked even as he followed the stomps of his fiancée.

Harvey drew a deep breath, willed it to cool him inside out. He refused to meet Donna’s eyes when he turned back inside.

He didn’t see Mike for a few hours; when he did, it was only in passing, literally. Mike strutted by him, a tension in his brisk walk and overly straight back that Harvey hadn’t seen in a while. Mike didn’t seem to notice him over his clenched jaw. Strange. He hadn’t realized Mike had any big cases going on that stressed him out. Probably just lots to wrap up so he could go on his honeymoon in peace. Away for two weeks he’d spent entangled with Rachel…

The sting in his heart was getting boring. It used to be much better protected. He’d remember how to rebuild the wall again, someday. When Mike was married and happy with his new family.

He didn’t think anything else of Mike’s demeanor until he needed Donna, and Donna wasn’t at her desk—so far, so usual. Except when he found her in a conference room, the gap between the blinds showed her holding a shaking Rachel, mascara running down her face.

Oh.

She and Mike had a fight, didn’t they? That was the only explanation. He better go and check on Mike, make sure he was doing okay—

Rachel’s reddened eyes pierced through him. Shit. He didn’t manage more than two hurried steps away when the door hinges screamed.

“You,” Rachel hissed. “Did you have fun screwing my fiancé?”

Her icy tone froze his core. Thank god the hallway was empty. This was not the kind of rumor that should circulate.

He looked to Donna, but she stood with her arms crossed and lips squeezed together. Why was he getting the villain treatment? Mike had made it clear they had mutually agreed on having a hallpass. He wouldn’t lie about that.

“I thought you guys had a deal,” he said quietly.

Rachel scoffed like that was a terrible excuse. “How could you not tell me he is gay?”

…he was supposed to tell her that instead of her fiancé who had been the one to proposition Harvey? Oh, Mike owed him for having to fix whatever the hell had gone wrong in their communication.

“He’s not. He’s marrying you. The guy was just curious, it didn’t mean anything.” The words tore at him, thickened the back of his throat, but it was the truth.

“And this was the only time?”

“Of course it was.” Something which Mike surely had told her too.

“So when you were stuck that night—”

“That was real. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” Rachel echoed like a challenge. Someone easier intimidated than him might have faltered under the intensity of her glare.

“Nothing. Unless you count him backhanding me in his sleep, but I doubt he remembers that.” He swallowed the bit about Mike having cuddled him all night. Hardly the moment to laugh about that confusion, and yes, Harvey had to believe that that was all it was before he lost his mind.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“He’s a restless sleeper, you must know that.” Both nights they had shared, Mike hadn’t stilled until he had all but crawled into Harvey.

“I don’t.”

Huh. They must both be cuddly sleepers then—no wonder Mike’s subconscious had him cling onto the nearest body if that was their regular sleeping position. “Well, there you go. Clearly, he feels much more relaxed sharing a bed with you then.”

He wasn’t sure if that answer truly satisfied her, but it was enough for her nostrils to return to normal. With a huff, she marched off. Before his better judgment stopped him, he looked to Donna again, expecting a scolding—no part of him was prepared for the heartbreaking softness that found him, like she knew pitiful news that he didn’t.

Whatever it was that burdened her, she didn’t volunteer it, no matter how long Harvey lingered. She’d let him know whenever she felt he needed to hear her opinions.

That night, Harvey wasn’t sure what to expect; a silent, hollow-eyed Mike seemed about right, however. Mike climbed into the back of the car with a tired smile, regarded his fidgeting fingers—in the same suit he had worn that night on their quasi-date, Harvey tried hard not to notice. The heaviness surrounded him like an armor.

“Everything okay?” Harvey asked.

“Hmmh.”

“You and Rachel fight? She was pretty upset with me, anyway.”

Mike’s neck cracked when he spun his head toward him, eyebrows furrowed above the suddenly—and he thought this with love—crazy eyes. “She attacked you? She had no right!”

Great. Fueling the fire, just as Harvey had intended. But since they had plummeted right into the thick of it…

“I thought she knew about… you know.”

“She did!” Mike waved his hands animatedly through the air. “I told her I was meeting you! She just assumed I meant we’re going out to find me a girl stranger together. Like that makes a difference.”

Actually, Harvey saw it. Sleeping with the best friend, the best man at their wedding, was on a whole different level of meaningful than sleeping with a brief acquaintance from the past. Mike was too smart not to know that too, which meant there was no use in Harvey pointing it out. Mike was already upset. Best man duties entailed changing that.

“Let’s forget about that for now. This is your party. We’ll cheer you up.” The we where he wanted to say I left a sour, foreign taste in his mouth. It was for the better. Last thing Mike needed was an ambiguous statement when their night together had caused him all this trouble in the first place.

Mike seemed fine enough when they got to the restaurant, the smile halfway convincing. Alcohol and high-quality food would get it the rest of the way there. They certainly didn’t seem to hurt; if Harvey caught him, once or twice, twirling his glass while staring into the abyss, then it was nothing a bump of his knee couldn’t fix. So when Mike excused himself halfway through dinner, Harvey was too preoccupied pitying himself for having to hold up a conversation with the others without the reward of Mike’s smile to think anything of it.

Though it did drag. Seemed like time refused to pass when Mike wasn’t around. The empty chair was a constant in Harvey’s periphery, no sign of its occupant.

Either Harvey was being dramatic, or Mike had been gone for a while now. His bourbon was only half as full as it was when Mike had gotten up, the platter of meat had lost a whole layer when none of the guys here were fast eaters, too busy talking and making juvenile jokes about Mike ‘losing his freedom.’ Harvey glanced over his shoulder, toward the men’s room. No movement, no nothing. Was that weird?

Try as he might to stop himself from counting the seconds, he couldn’t help but check for a sign of life again, and again seconds later. No, this was decisively odd. He finished his drink in a gulp and stood up, following the invisible track of Mike’s footsteps.

He inched the wooden door open, just in case something was going on in here he’d rather not hear—the rapid, heavy breaths were too close to come from a stall. Mike was hunched over the sink, his knuckles rivaling the porcelain in whiteness, his face a tense grimace. Harvey’s stomach turned. Fix it.

“Mike?”

Mike didn’t move even as he approached. Catiously, Harvey placed a hand on Mike’s hot, slightly moist back—with a gasp, Mike opened his eyes. He stared at Harvey through the mirror as if he had been trapped in a nightmare he finally woke up from.

“I-I can’t marry her.”

A sliver of something fuzzy went through Harvey’s chest. He condemned it to death immediately. He might be a hedonistic piece of shit, but he would not delight in seeing the man he lo—the man he cared for suffer. Whatever doubt plagued Mike wasn’t real, but the consequence of another tense day amongst weeks of planning stress. Everyone got cold feet at some point.

“Mike…”

“I can’t!” Mike spun around, came so close, their chests threatened to touch.

“Of course you can.” Harvey placed his hands above Mike’s elbows, hoped it was soothing. Mike clung onto his in return, squeezed them for dear life. “You’re freaked out because you had a fight.”

Mike frantically shook his head no. “She wants to move away and start trying for kids.”

The pain in Harvey’s heart hit him with the force of a bullet, the sharpness of an arrow. His knees wobbled. God, he needed to get it together. He could not be selfish, not about Mike.

“That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” Or so he had always said. Having a family, a home, it had been high on the list of Mike’s wants. He’d be a great dad, and a good husband. Maybe, Harvey could become the godfather and have an excuse to be around him wherever he chose to live. They had law firms everywhere.

“But that means…” The words faded into a breath, but the vulnerability in Mike’s piercing eyes spoke louder than any voice ever could. Harvey didn’t want to hope, but now that he was at the center of that stunning adoration, how could he not?

So what if he stopped telling himself it was one-sided? What if he admitted to both of them that he wanted to spend every night getting backhanded by a sleeping Mike? What if, once Mike knew he was an option, Harvey would come out on top…?

Mike’s hands wandered from Harvey’s arms to his waist, he leaned in closer, his eyes shut… Harvey’s traitorous finger was on his lips before they could cause trouble. He wished he could be the person who was allowed to kiss Mike whenever, but he wasn’t. And Mike, confused and overwhelmed as he might be now, had chosen to propose to Rachel mere months ago. Harvey couldn’t possibly ignore that, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“We are not those people, Mike. We’ve done a lot of fucked up shit together, but cheating won’t be one of them.”

Mike released the grip on his shirt. Harvey mourned the loss of the tight pull immediately, but this was one line he just could not cross. Not even to kiss Mike again.

“So you’re okay with me leaving.” It came out low. Harvey wanted to embrace him and tell him to stop being stupid, that it would tear him in half in a way he’d never recover from—but that would be too gay to pass as platonic, so the next best thing had to do.

“I want you to be happy. Live the life you want to live. Rachel loves you, and she deserves to be happy too. Do you still love her?”

“I mean… yeah.” And yet, his palms wandered up Harvey’s chest, grabbed his collar. Focus, Harvey. He couldn’t get carried away, take advantage of a moment of weakness.

“If you still love her the way you did the night you proposed, then get your shit together and meet her down the aisle.” It was that if Harvey clung to like a lifesaver, prayed Mike would join him on the escape it offered.

“With you next to me,” Mike muttered.

Harvey’s heart beat out pure nausea. “I can not be there—”

“No!” Mike’s thumb brushed over his jaw, his hand cupped the back of his neck, and he pulled Harvey into a tight hug. Harvey’s arms made their way around his waist naturally. He might get his mouth to say the right things, his body did not play ball. It felt way too good to feel Mike mold against him, fitting so damn perfectly like they were made for each other.

“You’re right,” Mike whispered against his shoulder. “I’m just freaked out.”

Yeah. And that explained why he needed comfort too, why he nuzzled into Harvey’s neck with no signs of wanting to let go.

Maybe Harvey should have pointed out that Mike’s gentle scratches along his neck weren’t the norm for a friendly hug. Maybe he should have kept his own palm from wandering to the lowest point on Mike’s spine. Maybe he should have let go when their hips squeezed into each other and a dangerous heat tingled in his privates. Maybe he should have stopped himself from drawing a deep breath of Mike’s musky cologne and sighing it out against his neck. Maybe he should have taken the growing hardness in Mike’s pants as a sign to let go. Maybe, when Mike lifted his head and etched his chin forward once more, he should have done more than stand still and wait for Mike to make the choice.

Maybe so.

But Mike didn’t kiss him. His arms dropped away, he took a step back. No damage done, no lines crossed. Good. That meant Harvey didn’t have to feel bad about fixing Mike’s hair, guiding it into place despite the hair glue making the tips of his fingers sticky. He’d get sticky for Mike any day, no matter whom Mike married. Even if he moved far away to appease the woman he loved.

Even if they’d never see each other again.

His heart crashed onto the floor and exploded into a thousand pieces, crunching under the soles of Mike’s feet when he led the way out of the bathroom. Just as well. Harvey didn’t need it anymore.

Mike stroked down the lapels of his tuxedo, fixed the flower pinned to it. Pink, to suit Rachel’s oh-so-important color scheme. The champagne-colored groom’s suite—champagne walls, throw pillows, even the fucking curtains—made him ache to get more of the bubbly nerve-calmer. He shouldn’t, though. He had all but ripped the bottle out of Harvey’s hands to get the gold foil off and share a last drink with the most important man in his life while he was still free.

The joke that marriage was a jail was outdated and steeped in misogyny, of course. Except it had stopped feeling like a joke a while ago.

Cold feet, just like Harvey had said. Probably. Except his feet hadn’t been cold when his naked body was draped on Harvey’s sheets—in fact, that, and the night in Pittsburgh, were the only times they had felt pleasantly warm since his proposal.

It had happened on their anniversary, just like Rachel had said she wanted, with flowers and a knee-fall and all the shebang she had always dreamed of. He should have dreamed of too, but didn’t. Half of the flower setup had been Donna’s idea because Mike’s mind had drawn a blank on what the woman who was supposed to be his soulmate would enjoy.

Well, Rachel did change her mind, a lot. It wasn’t like it was with, say, Harvey.

Mike’s mind shouldn’t go there, but it was impossible not to when he wore the tuxedo Harvey had not only picked out with him but paid for, too. It was as if the man himself was wrapped around Mike, and that image was too intoxicating not to flood his mind.

Harvey would have been happy with any proposal, Mike knew that. He wouldn’t have even needed to get a ring or anything; they could have woken up one morning, naked and cuddly, and Mike would have whispered the question. Harvey would have treated him to that face of genuine, surprise-ridden elation and kissed him and made a joke and Mike would have to coax the yes out of him before they got too lost in the passion to speak at all.

He glided his hand down his stomach, brushed out crinkles on his hip. Imagined Harvey doing it in his stead, dressed in an outrageously handsome tuxedo of his own, before taking Mike’s hand. The doors would open and their friends would rise and smile as they walked the aisle down together, and…

Mike swallowed, forced his eyes to open when the fuzzy feeling in his chest decayed at the reminder that that wasn’t their reality.

Oh god, was he making a mistake? It was supposed to be Rachel. She was beautiful and funny, and they had gone through so many ups and downs, a marriage was the only possible conclusion to their love story. And he did love her, in a way. But...

Shit.

Mike buried his face in his palms. If he was honest with himself, really honest… He proposed purely because she had wanted him to, because she deemed it time. And he had wanted it too, or so he thought, but… he hadn’t felt with her the way he had felt with Harvey in a long, long time. Actually, he had never felt with anyone the way he felt with Harvey. Not just that night, but in general.

Yes, the sex was out of the world, but… when something went wrong in his life, Harvey was the one he wanted to go to. When something went right, even more so. He used to chalk it up to wanting to impress his mentor, but the thought of moving away and leaving Harvey behind like Rachel demanded had been pushing a knife into his heart since the day she had declared that to be their future.

But that wasn’t the life he wanted.

When he pictured his wedding day, there was only one thing he could see: not the location or the flowers or anything Rachel had deemed so damn important and insisted on spending a fortune on. He just saw Harvey, by his side. Smiling, clasping his shoulder. Cupping his cheek and kissing him…

Mike gasped as he snapped out of it.

He couldn’t go through with this.

Harvey was right, Rachel deserved to be happy. She deserved a husband who wasn’t fantasizing about marrying his best friend . Most of all, she deserved the truth. Harvey deserved it too. Even if all of this was in Mike’s head and Harvey felt nothing romantic toward him whatsoever, he still couldn’t get married. Couldn’t say Rachel was the love of his life when most days, he’d rather be around Harvey. They couldn’t settle for each other because it was convenient. Hell, Mike wanted the fairytale ending, and he wanted Rachel to have it too. But he was not her prince.

His heart was in his throat when he knocked at the door of Rachel’s bridal suite. He slipped inside without waiting for a yes.

And there she was, back toward him, facing the golden mirror. Her raven hair was put up in am updo, the train of her white dress was perfectly draped, glittering under the beams of sunlight spilling through the window. She wore a brilliant smile when she turned.

She was beautiful, looked like a princess. It should have made him cry to see her as his bride. Instead, he felt nothing but the weight of knowing this was wrong.

“Mike! You can’t see me in my dress!”

“We need to talk.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to move. I love New York.”

The softness vanished from her face. Her sigh was heavy, she lifted her dress as she came closer. “We’ve agreed a fresh start is best—”

“No, you agreed. I said I don’t want to go.”

“If we stay, I’ll always wonder about you and him. You know that.” Yeah. He knew that he had been a stupid idiot who confused friendship with love and love with friendship.

Try as he might to make Rachel the villain and call her demand to leave Harvey behind unreasonable, deep down, he knew she was right to worry about his feelings for Harvey, and she must too. She did know him, after all. She must have sensed his heart wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

“I’m not gonna stop talking to Harvey, ever. He’s my best friend.”

Her perfectly groomed eyebrows twitched together. “What are you saying?”

Deep breath. Here went nothing.

“Rachel, do you want to marry me?”

She huffed wryly. “What does it look like, silly?” She pointed around the bridal suite, at herself in the mirror.

“I meant, do you want to marry me? When you see yourself walking down the aisle, do you see yourself walking toward me? Or do you just want to get married to be married? Because it’s the next step for us?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t…” she shook her head. Yes, she did. He could see the answer written on their face. They both had followed the script. They should be happy, but they weren’t.

Mike couldn’t help but feel that if he married Harvey—his heart leaped at the thought—they wouldn’t have spent days fighting over what color the tablecloths were supposed to have. He would have had opinions on the paper quality of the invitations and the color scheme and whether an inside or outside reception was best, and maybe they’d bicker, but then they’d kiss and make up and compromise. Because they both were on the same team, wanted the same things. Meanwhile, the past few months had felt like a battle against Rachel, dodging her and her demands.

He knew he hadn’t been as honest as he should have been with her about wanting to sleep with Harvey. How could he, when he had been lying to himself? Well, no more of that.

He took her hands, brushed his thumb over the soft skin. “We can’t get married, Rachel. I don’t think we can make each other as happy as I’d want us to be.”

Her eyes widened. She pulled back with a shaky breath. “Because of Harvey? What, you’d rather marry him?”

“And because of Logan. You were glowing that morning in a way I haven’t made you glow in a long time.”

“Do not put this on me—”

“I’m not! You did nothing wrong. But I think the fact that we both wanted to be with other people is telling, isn’t it?”

She sucked her lips between her teeth, crossed her arms as she stepped back. Mike followed.

“I love you, Rachel. I do. But this isn’t right. You deserve better than someone having doubts.”

Sniffling, she sank onto the velvet footstool by the mirror. A black line of mascara ran down her cheek. “I can’t believe this.”

“I’m really sorry. I should have been honest with you and myself earlier.”

Rachel shook her head, wiped the wetness away from underneath her eyes. The black smudged all the way to her temple. “I’m sorry too. I saw the way you’ve been looking at Harvey. I know you never looked at me like that. I guess I just didn’t want to start over with someone new again…”

That was the saddest thing he had ever heard. She deserved to want better for herself than someone settling.

He kneeled in front of her, gently swiped the fresh tears off her cheek, and pressed a kiss on her forehead. And—nothing. No ache, no regret, not even a bittersweet feeling.

“You will find the person who cannot imagine spending one day without you. And when you do, I’ll be so happy for you.” A soft smile played around Rachel’s lips despite it all.

She sniffed through a nod, brushed her thumb over his cheek.

“Go. If my dad catches you when I tell him we changed our minds, he’ll kill you. I’ll have Donna break the news to everyone, and you…” She sighed. “Well, we both know where you’re going. Ride off into the sunset with the one you actually want to be with.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I’ll be okay. Just… keep it out of my face for a while.”

The implication that they would still see each other, that they could go back to being friends even, had his heart soar. A person as good as her would find the perfect husband in no time. He’d always be there for her, no matter what. But at the end of the day, there was just one person he wanted to come home to.

His hand hugging the doorknob, he looked over his shoulder one last time. Rachel’s face was buried in her hands. Knowing he hurt her was no easy load. Hopefully, she truly could forgive him, eventually.

He pulled the door shut, drew a deep breath. And smiled.

All around the guilt, a giddy feeling sprouted in his chest. He needed to find Harvey and get out of here.

He jogged down the hall, back to his groom’s suite. Empty. Where could he be? If Harvey was chatting up a bridesmaid, Mike swore to god—

“There you are,” that wonderful voice sounded through the hallway. Mike turned swiftly. Oh, Harvey looked ravishing in that tuxedo, perfectly accentuating his beautiful body… he hadn't dared to admire him earlier but now, he took in the full glory of that gorgeous man. “I’ve been looking for you. I got your cufflinks.”

He could keep them. Mike only cared about losing clothes, not tightening them. He took Harvey’s hand and squeezed. “Get your keys.”

A hint of a frown furrowed Harvey’s brow. “Why?”

“Because I am the groom, and as my best man, you have to run away with me when I ask.” Mike’s heart was pounding in his chest, he held his breath. The moment expanded to infinity. A million emotions rushed over Harvey’s face, from confusion to realization back to confusion. He looked down the hall.

“What about Rachel—”

“We ended things. You were right, we both deserve to be happy. And I realized she’s not who I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Mike…” Harvey whispered. A shudder chased down Mike’s spine. He stepped closer, brought their chests to touch, and cupped Harvey’s cheek.

“Don’t tell me you could fuck me like you did without meaning it.”

Harvey’s mouth hung open. Speechless for possibly the first time ever, all for Mike. What an honor. “Are you saying…”

“Yes. I wanna do everything with you.”

Harvey’s lips crashed onto his. Mike tasted the shock and disbelief, ate the giggle out of Harvey’s mouth to get more of him. Too soon, Harvey pulled back. His eyes sparkled like diamonds, softer than Mike had ever seen them. His fingers glided between Mike’s. “Everything?”

“Everything.”

Harvey’s exhale turned into an infectious laugh, bubbling out of Mike too. All these years, and they finally got to do this, be together.

He tugged Harvey toward the back door; their walk turned into a jog, laughing as they ran through the empty halls, until the warm late-afternoon air greeted them in its embrace.

“Where are we going?” Harvey asked breathlessly. Anywhere. Somewhere not here, somewhere beautiful. Somewhere just them. Somewhere… Mike smiled.

“The coast. I wanna drive until we see water and watch the sunset on a beach.” Lunging around half naked, drinking out of a coconut, napping in Harvey’s arm... This was supposed to be his honeymoon, after all.

He barely saw the nod before Harvey kissed him again. Hugging his neck, Mike chuckled into it. Being with him in this way already felt like the most natural thing. All the years of friendship, of walls put up between them... Mike could see now the restraint that woven throughout it all. They were done with that. From now, it would just be the two of them, doing whatever the hell they pleased.

“I’ll get the car,” Harvey whispered. The sexiest words he had ever spoken.