on the eleventh day of christmas my true love gave to me eleven laa-s a leaping t-.. nine t-en tEN six six a sixing sev- days a milking seven six a swimming six geese a laying fiiiIIIIIIIIIIVE GOOOOLDEEEEEN RIIIIIIIIIIINGS
I’ll be honest, I’ve been extremely sick the last 24 hours, so I’m quite amazed I was able to get this written and up on time - I blame Mike and Harvey for their indestructible sexual tension. YES! Today is Suits day, and I couldn’t be happier. There isn’t a show on TV without a more obvious couple on (except maybe Supernatural) and I was thrilled to finally have a chance to write these two.
“You wanted to see me?” Mike asked at the
threshold of the dimly lit office. New
York twinkled beyond the floor to ceiling windows that Harvey was currently
gazing out of, customary tumbler of whiskey in hand. Even relaxed and in contemplation he radiated
assuredness, and Mike felt his insides squeeze a fraction in awe.
He turned and gave a tight-lipped smile to
Mike. “Sure kid, come on in,” he
said. Despite the fact he was pretty
sure they were the only ones left on the floor so late at night, Mike closed
the door after he stepped inside. Any
excuse to be alone.
He was always extremely careful when they
were in the office never to cross the professional line that they had spent so
many years treading. All that had finally
changed, thankfully, when several months ago Mike hadn’t been able to take
torturing himself anymore, and had thrown himself at his boss after a heated,
drunken argument about their usual pointless bullshit. He had been pretty certain he was going to
get himself fired, but he’d not cared.
It was worth it to find out what Harvey tasted like, if only briefly and
To his astonishment something had broken in
Harvey, as he fisted his hand through Mike’s hair and grabbed the back of his
shirt, hauling him in closer and kissing him a like drowning man gasping for
air. Mike had kept telling himself not
to be too disappointed, not to read too much into it or get attached, that as
Harvey had pulled him into his hotel room that it was going to be a one-time
thing and he would be grateful for having it as opposed to the nothing he had
But here they were, almost at the end of the
year, and Harvey was still pulling him into his bed. Pulling him into his life.
“Is this about the case for Jessica?” Mike
asked, still standing as he waited for an indication from Harvey. “Because I haven’t had a chance to look at
the files yet.”
After a moment of hesitation, Harvey turned
and licked his lips, looking at Mike through his eyelashes. “Actually,” he said, a hint of reservation in
his voice that made Mike nervous. “I
wanted to give you your Christmas present.”
Several emotions shot through Mike’s chest
as he struggled to keep his face neutral.
Shock, and then absurd happiness that they were crossing their self-imposed
line by discussing something so personal at work. Fear as to why they were doing it at work.
And then finally, shame and panic.
“But,” Mike blurted out stupidly.
“I thought – I haven’t got your present yet,” he admitted. He thought he had more time.
Harvey though smiled at him warmly, and
waved his glass at the plush chairs where a wrapped box stood on the coffee
table. “I forgive you,” he said with a
smirk. “Now sit down and open your
Mike swallowed, unsure, but slid down into
the leather seat. “I could wait?” he
said, almost afraid to touch it as Harvey sat opposite him. “I feel bad.”
But Harvey bit his lip and leaned forward,
the ice rattling in his glass between his knees. “Don’t feel bad kid,” he said genuinely. “You know part of the fun for me is getting
one up on you.” He winked, and Mike
relaxed a little.
“That is true, you old bastard,” he teased,
scooting the box over to him and reading the tag.
Harvey scoffed. “Okay,” he said, amused and shaking his head. “Don’t push your luck.”
The note simply said “Merry Christmas” on it; nothing more personal or incriminating, such
as their names. But the fact they were
doing this at their place of work made up for that, Mike felt. Like Harvey was defying the firm by doing
this out in the open. There were pretty
strict rules about partners sleeping with associates, and it could get them
both fired. But Harvey Specter was never
really one for rules.
“I take it Donna wrapped this,” Mike said, deliberately
pushing his luck as he inspected the silver wrapping with purple ribbon. It was either that or admit how hard his
heart was banging in his chest.
It had never just been sex between them, not
since that first night, or even since they first met. Mike cared deeply about Harvey, he admired
and coveted him and his approval. But it
had not gone unnoticed how Harvey had held Mike after their first time
together, how his fingers found any excuse to linger on his skin – even the way
he would gruffly fling coffee and the morning paper at him like a he was a nuisance
was him showing his particular brand of possessive affection, and Miked loved
it all the more.
He loved Harvey, he knew he did. But it was much easier to tease and rile him
rather than say the words out loud.
But this ceremonious present giving was
making him nervous that they were about to cross another line, personally
speaking, and he was ashamed to admit he was afraid.
It was always a case of taking what he could
get from Harvey, and appreciating that it could all be ripped away from him at
any given moment. Harvey was always the
one in charge, and if he realised how stupid they were being Mike couldn’t’
blame him for putting an end to it. So
he always held back, just a little, not willing to give himself over fully so
he would have something left of himself when it would all inevitably come
crashing down. It was a sort of
self-preservation, he guessed.
But moments like this, where Harvey caught
him off guard, always brought his defences up.
In case this was the moment of
no return, in case this was finally
the time he would finally shatter Mike’s heart into a thousand pieces.
Harvey took Mike’s barb about Donna wrapping
his present with an arched eyebrow. “What,
you think I couldn’t possibly do a good job wrapping a gift?” he quipped. Mike held the present as if it were fragile,
unable to look up at Harvey.
“No,” he said honestly. “I just don’t think you’d deign to do
something so lowly yourself.”
“Would you just shut up and open it,” Harvey
groused, taking a sip of his drink as Mike laughed, nervously. So he did, sliding his fingers along the
creases and ripping the paper noisily in the quietness of the office. Inside was…another box.
“Gee,” Mike said sardonically as he pulled
the second smaller box out, wrapped again in silver. “Just what I always wanted.”
“Okay,” said Harvey in defeat. “This may have been Donna’s idea, so you can
give her a hard time about it later.
After a moment of paused intrigue, Mike
looked back from Harvey and tore into the fresh paper, lifting the lid and
unsurprisingly finding another wrapped box.
This went on for two more layers, with Harvey looking on in amusement as
Mike got more and more flustered, before finally he reached a small, unwrapped
box that he knew instinctively was the real present.
He paused, turning it over in his
fingers. “Go on kid,” Harvey urged. That was the third time he’d called him kid
since he’d arrived. He was nervous.
It was this that gave Mike the courage to
open the last box. He wanted to alleviate
Harvey’s worries, even if he himself was practically shaking in apprehension. But he was surprised to see that all that lay
inside the box was a simple key, and he fished it out to frown down at it. “It’s a key?” he said, aware of how dumb he
“Nothing gets past you, does it?” replied
Harvey, and Mike looked up finally to see how tense he was. What kind of key could make Harvey Specter tense?
And then it hit him. His eyes snapped back down, and he almost didn’t
dare breath. It couldn’t be, could it? “What’s it a key for?” Mike asked, striving
to keep his voice even.
“What do you think?” Harvey replied. Of course he was going to make him say
it. There was no going back from this if
he was wrong.
He licked his lips and took a steadying
breath. “It’s…a key to your place?” he
said, unable to keep the question from framing his words.
Harvey just gave him a single nod, and hope
and exhilaration exploded through Mike’s chest like the God-damn Fourth of
July. “We talked about you spending
Christmas at mine,” Harvey explained. “And
I figured this would be easier than me having to babysit you.”
A key to Harvey’s flat – he was being intrusted
with Harvey’s home. Mike felt a lump rise in his throat, and he
coughed it away. “Thank you,” he
stammered. “I uh, that’s great.”
Mike looked up sheepishly. He could never fool Harvey. “But why now?
Why not when I come over on Christmas Eve, and have your present to give you back?”
Harvey chuckled affectionately. “What’s the obsession with giving presents at
the same time?” he asked.
Mike rubbed the back of his neck and tried
not to let his emotions creep out. “Because
you always give me so much,” he said. “I wanted a chance to give you something
He risked looking over at Harvey, who put his
drink down and laced his fingers together between his knees. “Well, lucky for you,” he said
measuredly. “That is my present from you.”
“How?” Mike breathed, not daring to let
himself hope. But Harvey’s eyes were
wide with vulnerable sincerity, and he couldn’t help himself. “How is this my present to you?”
Harvey didn’t blink. He just held Mike’s gaze for what seemed like
forever. “It is…if you wanted to move
your stuff in in time for the holidays?”
Mike’s vision went entirely white as he took
the split-second to process what Harvey had said. When it returned, he dropped his gaze back to
the innocuous looking key held precariously between his fingers. “You want me to move in with you?” he whispered
around the solid lump in his throat, unable to stop the wetness collecting
behind his eyes.
“Yes,” said Harvey firmly and simply. “I want you to be home for Christmas.”
Home. He wanted Mike to share his home. He wanted it to be their bed and their coffee
cupsand a million other stupid
things that would be theirs. He wanted Mike to come home.
Without a word, Mike stood and walked around
the table, not stumbling but with purpose as he reached Harvey and folded into
his lap, glass door be damned. He buried
his face into Harvey’s neck and shivered as strong fingers ran up his back, as
lips pressed against his hair. “Is this
what you really want?” he mumbled, and in response Harvey pulled him in
“Yes,” he said determinedly. “I want you in my life. I want you to be there every morning when I
wake up, I want your God-damn bike in my lobby and your toothbrush and ties next
to mine. But,” he said, inhaling deeply
as Mike shifted in his lap to look at him.
“Only if that’s what you want?”
“Yes,” Mike replied immediately, before hungrily
kissing his lips several times. “Yes,
please, that’s what I want.”
Harvey let himself be kissed, his fingers
carding through Mike’s hair as he leaned even further into him. He had been so terrified of falling all the
way for Harvey, he hadn’t once let himself consider how good it might feel. It was
freeing and wondrous, and he hoped it would never end.
After a time, Harvey pulled back and ran his
hand along the side of Mike’s tearful face.
He wasn’t even embarrassed, for once he wanted to be completely honest
about what Harvey meant to him. “What do
you say kid?” he asked, prising Mike’s fingers open from where they had clamped
so hard over the key they had left a red imprint. “How about we go home?”
Mike nodded, his hand entwining with Harvey’s
the key pressed between them. “I think
that sounds perfect.”