There are a few things about Mike that Harvey has become aware of since he pretty much moved into Harvey' apartment.

One, Mike is untidy. But even though he's untidy, he still knows exactly where everything is to the point that all Harvey's arguments about cleaning up after himself are rendered invalid.

Two, Mike sings in the shower. Loudly and out of tune and, Godammit, it makes Harvey smile.

Three, Mike likes to hold hands, Harvey doesn't, so they've learned to compromise. Mike settles with touching every now and then, small touches on his back between his shoulders, on his elbow, a brush of fingers over the back of Harvey's hand and Harvey lets him. They hardly ever do it in the office though (and if they do it can be brushed off as normal, everyday touching), unless it's late and there's no one there and more than once Mike has pushed Harvey far enough that he's snapped, and fucked Mike over his desk. There's always a look of triumph in Mike's eyes after that and Harvey always makes a mental note to ignore the pushing next time. It never works though.

And four, he genuinely thinks Mike may have been a limpet in another life.

His arms are hot around Harvey when he sleeps and Harvey's got used to it, because he has to admit, he's almost as clingy himself. But Mike tangles their legs as well so that pretty much every inch of skin is touching and Harvey more often than not wakes with his skin sliding across Mike's sweat slick skin. The funny thing is though that Harvey wasn't like this before Mike, before the highly intelligent, wide eyed kid had walked into his interview and turned his world upside down, he never slept wrapped around someone else.

Mike shifts, mutters in his sleep and his lips press against Harvey's shoulder.

They've been, Harvey hesitates to use the word 'together' it just sounds so...generic when they're anything but, but they've been together, post freak out (as Mike likes to call it) for months now ("four months, 15 days and oh 12 hours" Mike had said yesterday) and Harvey can count on one hand the number of nights they've spent apart in that time.

They argue still, Mike has seemed to take Harvey's "I want you arguing with me at work" to a whole new level and pretty much disagrees on everything Harvey says, on purpose, with a twinkle in his eyes and Harvey has had to discipline him on more than one occasion because of it. But really Mike is still the same at work, he still tries to impress Harvey even though he doesn't need to, not anymore, Harvey is taking Mike home at night and Harvey is impressed no matter what he does, he fights back, he does what he thinks is right regardless of what Harvey has said and Harvey falls more in love with him each time he does it.

They've had the "no one else" conversation. Well, Harvey ground the words out darkly one night, his fingers wrapped around Mike's dick as he said "no one else Mike, no one else gets this" into Mike's ear and Mike only nodded as he dug his fingers into Harvey's arm. But he'd muttered "ok Harvey, no one else" later, against Harvey's neck and Harvey had gripped at him tighter.

Its a Saturday, probably only about 8 in the morning if the light coming through the windows is anything to go by, and they only got to bed at 3 after a particularly gruelling case (that Mike had saved; he'd been rewarded for that) but Harvey extracts himself from Mike's arms (Mike sleeps like the dead when he's tired as he was last night) and pulls the sheet back over him before slipping into the bathroom for a shower.

He's got a towel wrapped round his waist, his hair dripping water on to his shoulders and he's contemplating shaving when slender but surprisingly toned and strong arms wrap around his waist. Harvey resists the urge to smile as Mike presses a kiss between his shoulder blades. In the bathroom mirror he can see the messy hair, the tired sleepy eyes and he can feel the warmth of Mike's skin as Mike presses himself closer and drops his chin to Harvey's shoulder.

"Morning," he says, his voice thick with sleep and Harvey does smile then, reaches up behind him and runs his fingers across Mike's cheek. Mike practically purrs and Harvey ignores the jolt of lust in his belly at the noise. Its the same noise Mike uses when Harvey kisses the hollow at the base of his throat, "don't shave," Mike mutters, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against Harvey's. Harvey raises an eyebrow as Mike opens his eyes again and there's a slight blush across his cheeks, a flush of sleep and Harvey spins around, pulls Mike's hips to his and kisses him. He tastes of sleep, warm and sweet and Mike groans slightly, cupping his hands at Harvey's elbow.

"Why not?" Harvey asks as he lets Mike go and Mike sways slightly. He rubs a hand over his face and Harvey spins around again, starts to run a sink full of water.

Mike plasters himself to Harvey again, one hand playing across the skin of his stomach, the other running down his cheek, across his jaw and down his neck.

"I like it like this," he says, and kisses at the spot behind Harvey's ear that makes him week in the knees.

Harvey catches a glimpse of the ring on Mike's right hand as he runs his hand down his chest. ("This means you're mine" he'd said and Mike had grinned, "You proposing Harvey?" "Don't push your luck Rookie, anyway, its the wrong hand genius.") But Mike had worn it every day since and more than once Harvey had caught Mike staring at it with an almost unreadable expression. Almost, because Harvey knew Mike probably better than Harvey knew himself and he knew the look meant that Mike was trying to figure out if he deserved Harvey. And he more than did. He proved it with everything he did. In the office, every case he won behind the scenes, every time he caused Louis to go puce with his acerbic comebacks to Louis's monumental fuckups. And in the bedroom where he had evolved into a stupidly pushy sub. An oxymoron, he knows, but Harvey is learning that nothing with Mike is ever normal and simple.

"Have you been working out?" Mike quips as he squeezes at Harvey's arms and Harvey rolls his eyes because he's expected to and because honestly, Mike knows the only weight training Harvey gets is holding himself up as he fucks Mike into the mattress. Mike leans forward and shuts the taps off. "No shaving," he says and Harvey raises an eyebrow again.

"You do remember who's in charge right?" he asks.

"Yes...but you wont shave cos you totally love me," Mike sings as he lets Harvey go. Harvey's only said it once, when he was getting Mike back, he doesn't need to say it again, Mike has a photographic memory after all and Harvey has more than proved it on more than one occasion. Harvey snorts and smiles fondly and smacks Mike's ass as he steps into the shower. The yelp that Mike let's out is adorable.

"I'll get the coffee on," he shouts and Mike's head appears out of the shower, bubbles streaming down his face and he looks so young like that, skin pink from the scalding shower and his eyes screwed up against the suds.

"Don't shave," he says and Harvey turns on the cold tap.

There's another yelp and Harvey laughs and dodges the bar of soap that Mike throws over the shower screen at him.

"You know," Mike says, towelling his hair dry and he's naked except for the towel over his head and Harvey swallows against the ever present stirring of lust in his stomach at the sight, "that was 100 per cent evil," Mike pulls the towel from his head and throws it on the floor. Harvey suppresses the sigh and bites down on his tongue to stop the "Mike, towel" from slipping out. Mike's a messy room mate, not that he's officially living here, Harvey doesn't think he's ready for that himself, but he spends pretty much most of the time here, although he's still paying for his apartment. He leaves lights on, Harvey finds socks in the most random places, one was even in the kitchen sink the other day, and the pile of wet towels on the bathroom floor grows daily, "I'm starting to wonder what I see in you," Mike finishes, pulling a t-shirt over his head. His hair is sticking up in all sorts of places, and Harvey reaches out and smoothes a few stands down. Mike closes his eyes and arches into the touch.

"You love me remember?" Harvey says and when Mike opens his eyes again Harvey feels like all the air is sucked from the room.

"Yeah, I do," he says and leans forward enough to press his lips to Harvey's, he tastes of toothpaste now, minty and fresh but there's still the taste of iMike/i under it all. Mike pulls back and his eyes are light and jovial again. "Where's my coffee?" he asks and Harvey pulls away and lifts his own mug to his lips.

"Pick your towel up, put some pants on, ithen/i you can have coffee," he says and Mike pretends to sulk, sticks his bottom lip out and Harvey grabs him round the waist, bites on his lip. The way Mike practically melts into him, arms coming up to wrap around Harvey's neck and pull him closer is possibly the best thing about kissing Mike. The immediate reaction that his kisses elicit from Mike is something that Harvey's never really experienced before with anyone else. If Harvey were more emotional, prone to bouts of romanticism he would think that perhaps they were made for each other and they worked that well because of that. But he's not, he's level headed and some people just fit, that's all.

He's still telling himself that when Mike pulls away and sashays (on purpose, the little bastard, and honestly how can anyone look that good wearing nothing but a t-shirt?) into the bedroom to find some pants.

They spend the day in the apartment, Harvey padding around in old jeans and a soft button down shirt that Mike keeps stroking at, catching up on personal emails as Mike laughs in the background on the phone with his grandmother. It's almost, God Harvey hates this word, but domestic. It's easy with Mike, Harvey doesn't have to try, he can even leave him here whilst he grabs groceries, and doesn't worry about Mike snooping round where he shouldn't. Because there is no "where he shouldn't" for Mike. It should scare him really, send him screaming, running for the hills, that Mike has managed to worm his way in where no one else has ever managed before, but Harvey's not afraid of anything remember? Especially not Mike. He's pretty sure nothing and nobody is afraid of Mike.

He hears Mike tell his grandmother "Harvey says hi" as he hangs up and he wants to frown, but he can only smile at the couplyness of it all. Mike pulls the laptop from Harvey's knees and crawls onto his lap, kisses him hard with two hot hands wrapped around his face.

"She says hi," he mutters absently as he explores the skin on Harvey's jaw, teeth scraping over stubble and ithis/i was why Harvey let Mike tell him not to shave this morning.

"She's never met me," Harvey replies and Mike hums in response, that could be a 'yeah I know' or could equally be a 'I will remedy that sooner or later'. Either one has Harvey gripping at Mike's t-shirt with his hands as the vibrations tingle along his jaw.

"She wants to," Mike replies, his voice muffled by the v of exposed skin at Harvey's neck and Harvey feels his hands tighten in Mike's t-shirt. "Fraidy cat," Mike says quietly, picking up the unconscious movement of Harvey. Because Mike always picks things up like that. He's apparently gotten better at reading people since they've been together. Harvey sighs. Maybe he should stop teaching Mike things.

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not afraid of anything?" he feigns boredom at having to repeat himself and Mike grins, lifts his head and practically blinds Harvey with his megawatt smile.

"Whatever…fraidy cat."

"Oh you're heading the right direction for a spanking, kiddo," Harvey says and Mike grins again, wriggles and yelps when Harvey's hand clamp around his hips. Harvey flips them, and he's thankful for his extraordinary large couch otherwise they would both end up on the floor. Mike lets out a small laugh, and hooks a leg around Harvey's, bringing them closer together.

"Just makes it kind of real, doesn't it?" Harvey says before his brain can process it and Mike frowns slightly, runs his hand through Harvey's hair.

"That's the point," he says, "any anyway…" he waggles his right finger in front of Harvey's face. And dammit, Mike's got a point with that one. Harvey made it real by giving Mike the ring, but he'd almost meant it as more of a public show that Mike belonged to him, rather than he wanted to get married and adopt children together, meet parents and grandparents and have the whole family over for thanks giving. And well shit, he's probably going to have to start broaching the subject of his own family with Mike sooner or later.

"You know I…" he starts, because he's starting to realise he's a fucking sap and a pushover when it comes to Mike but Mike nods and interrupts him before he can finish the sentence.

"I know. How could you not?"

And Mike's got a point with that one too. He's irritating and leaves socks and wet towels all over the place, and is pushy and makes Harvey want to punch things sometimes, but he also looks at Harvey like he's the next coming, and has a mind that makes Harvey wonder how he ever got off the right track and they work, and Mike's his. And yeah, ok fine, he loves him.

He kisses Mike then, and Mike groans, arching upwards as Harvey presses his hips down, his old jeans rubbing against his dick in a way that's not enough but too much all at the same time. Mike runs his hands up Harvey's back, dragging his palms over skin under Harvey's shirt and his blunt nails catch slightly, making Harvey groan into Mike's mouth. Mike arches up again, his dick dragging against Harvey's and Harvey wants to see him, wants to watch as Mike fucks himself on Harvey, hands gripped around the headboard and skin glistening with sweat. Mike whines when he pulls away and if Harvey wasn't blessed with an almost irritating amount of self control he would fuck Mike right there, wishes be damned, but he holds a hand out to Mike and hauls him up to his feet.

"We need a bed for what I've got planned, Rookie," he says into Mike's ear and Mike shudders, honest to God shudders, against him. Mike is so bloody reactive sometimes that it takes Harvey's breath away. Mike goes limp when Harvey says bed, almost like his sub instincts are kicking in and Harvey manhandles him to the bedroom, places a firm hand between his shoulder blades and shoves. Mike sprawls on the bed with an undignified and indignant noise and rolls over to glare at Harvey half-heartedly. Mike stares up at him, his body practically vibrating and Harvey knows why, he's waiting for a command. His hands clench in the sheets and his stomach muscles twitch with the effort of staying still because although Harvey hasn't told him to stay still, Mike has picked it up from Harvey's body language. "Jeans," Harvey bites out and Mike practically jumps, his hands flying to his jeans and unbuttoning them, pushing them down his hips and throwing them on the floor by the side of the bed. Harvey resists the urge to pick them up and fold them neatly and looks down at Mike. "Touch yourself, Mike," he says and Mike pushes a hand into his boxers and wraps his fingers around himself, "let me see." Mike whines slightly, arching his hips as he pulls his hand out and pushes his boxers down his thighs, kicks them off his feet, "good boy," he practically purrs when Mike curls his fingers around his dick again and strokes once upwards.

Harvey pulls the shirt over his head, not taking his eyes from Mike as he folds it and puts it on the corner of the bed. Mike's eyes are wide, his lip caught between his bottom teeth and his chest heaves as he stares up at Harvey. Harvey takes off his trousers slowly, puts them on top of his shirt and crawls over Mike without touching him. Mike whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut.

"No Mike, eyes on me," Harvey whispers and Mike's eyes snap open, "such a good boy," Harvey says, leaning down and licking at Mike's lips, Mike whimpers again as twists his hand around himself, "imy/i good boy."

"Harv..." Mike lets it slip, stops himself from finishing though because he knows he's not allowed to beg unless Harvey tells him too. Its times like this, that Harvey loves Mike all the more, the little slip ups and the ways he stops himself.

"It's ok, Puppy, you can beg," he says and once the words are past his lips Mike lets loose.

"Jesus Harvey please, just...fucking touch me, please," and Harvey's already got his fingers halfway to Mike's mouth, slips them in past his lips and Mike sucks them hard tongue dipping between them and it's wet and hot between Harvey's fingers.

Harvey leans forward, pulls his fingers put and kisses Mike as he trails his hand down Mike's chest, stomach, curling his fingers over Mike's dick for a second before ghosting over the sensitive skin between Mike's dick and ass. Mike jumps, groans into Harvey's mouth as Harvey presses one finger in. Mike's always tight and hot inside, an almost scorching heat and his hand falters around his dick as Harvey presses another finger in. Harvey snakes a hand under Mike, spins them both, keeping his fingers pressed into Mike. Mike lets out a surprised noise but uses the new position to push back against Harvey's hand.

"Yeah, that's it, kid," Harvey says and Mike groans, his hand squeezing at the base of his dick. Mike lowers his head, presses it into Harvey's chest, his breath hot against his skin and Harvey twists his fingers, hooks them round and Mike cries out as his back arches. "Mike," Mike looks down at him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes half closed, "condom and lube."

Mike blinks a couple of times and Harvey pulls his fingers out of him and then Mike's moving, scrabbling in the bedside table drawer and pulling out the bottle of lube and a condom. His hands shake slightly and he settles himself on Harvey's thighs, rips open the packet with his teeth. He pulls his lip between his teeth as he rolls the condom over Harvey's dick and Harvey has to clench his teeth to stop himself from arching into Mike's tight fist. Harvey presses the bottle of lube to Mike's hands. "Open yourself up for me," he says and Mike nods once, pours lube onto his fingers and reaches around and presses them inside himself. His chest heaves, stomach tightening as he presses himself down against his hand and Harvey runs his fingers gently over his chest, pinching a nipple hard enough to elicit a gasp from Mike. Mike shifts, twists his hips slightly and Harvey clamps his hands around his hips, holding him still. "Hands on the headboard," he snaps and Mike winces as he pulls his fingers out and grasps at the top of the headboard, lifting his hips slightly and Harvey uses the hands clamped around his hips to lower Mike down onto his dick. Mike groans, throwing his head back and Harvey mirrors it as Mike takes over and lets himself down completely. "Move Mike," he orders, "ride my dick."

Mike stutters out a curse as he lifts himself and slams back down and Harvey practically bites through his own lip. It's not just the feel of Mike around him, but its also the way Mike reacts to Harvey's words, the little shudders and the widening of his pupils, the tightening of his hands, the way his muscles flutter. A bead of sweat falls down Mike's chest and Harvey reaches up, catches it with the tip of a finger and Mike lets out a noise that sounds like he's dying as Harvey shifts his hips and drives them upwards.

Harvey lets Mike set the pace, the lift and fall of his hips driving Harvey crazy, cos it's not quite as fast he would like, and its keeping Harvey on edge when he wants to drive his hips upwards and fuck Mike hard until they both come. Mike groans, lets his head hang between his arms and Harvey lifts his hands and runs them through his hair.

"Mikey..." Mike opens his eyes and drives himself down hard, "Can you come without me touching you?" Harvey asks, somehow managing to get the words out and Mike nods.

"Yes," he groans out.

"Good boy," Harvey shifts again and Mike's back arches like a bow, he drives himself down once more and comes hard, the muscles in his arms straining as he spills hot against Harvey's stomach. He keeps moving though, hips stuttering once, but keeps driving up and down because Harvey told him to, and Mike does what Harvey says and iGod/i that's enough to make Harvey clutch at Mike's hips and come hard inside him. Mike whimpers slightly as Harvey lifts him off and his arms look like they're made of lead as he pulls Mike down against him. He massages at Mike's shoulders and Mike hums happily against his neck.

"Still a fraidy cat," Mike mutters sleepily and Harvey lets out a laugh as he feels Mike's breathing even out.

He leaves Mike sleeping, his skin is still warm when Harvey runs a hand down his spine, Mike's face turned into the pillow and he shifts but stays asleep.

Harvey grabs a beer from the fridge and walks out onto the balcony. There's a slight chill in the air and Harvey shivers a little. From here he can see Mike still asleep in the bed, his arms spread wide, and the view over the city which pretty much sold him on the apartment. The view of Mike though is infinitely better.

He's still watching Mike when he hears Mike's phone ring, muted through the window, and Mike does the sleepy hand flailing thing, grabbing at the phone without looking, his face still planted in the pillow, and puts it next to his ear. Harvey smiles at him because sometimes he's such a teenager when it comes to waking up. But then Mike suddenly sits up, running a hand through his hair and there's confusion on his face, and its nosy, he knows that, but Harvey stands and makes his way to the bedroom.

"Yeah...ok...I'll uh...see you later then," Mike's saying and hanging up the phone and he jumps when he catches Harvey leaning against the door frame.

"Who was that?" Harvey asks and Mike frowns slightly, a quick flicker of something across his face, then he smiles and stands, stretches his back and there's an audible pop.

"Old college friend. He's in town," he says and avoids Harvey's eyes as he walks to the bathroom, "wants to meet up for a drink."

Harvey takes a step towards him and winds a hand behind his back, pulling him flush against him. Mike doesn't avoid his gaze, he stares straight back at him, as Harvey searches his face. Harvey doesn't know what he's looking for, he just knows that there's something else going on under Mike's blue eyes, something slightly more than a drink with an old college friend.

"You don't have any friends," Harvey says and Mike narrows his eyes in mock offence.

"Harsh, Harvey," he says, smiling easily.

"Ok," he says, letting Mike go, "you staying at your place or..."

"I'll be back later," Mike says and its almost posed as a question and Harvey nods absently as he walks out of the bathroom. Mike is all smiles when he emerges, freshly showered and smelling like Harvey's shower gel, touching Harvey like he always does. Mike jumps up on to the kitchen counter, wrapping his legs around Harvey and pulling him in for a kiss, his hands massaging at the base of Harvey's neck, like he's trying to get Harvey to relax, his fingers probing at a knot of muscle. Harvey groans slightly and Mike presses his hips forward, rutting almost aimlessly.

"If you don't stop that, you're going to need another shower and I wont be held responsible for any love bites that may or may not be on your person," Mike shudders against him and pulls away, his lips slightly swollen and slick.

"I see you later," he says, slipping off the counter and sliding his body against Harvey's on purpose, the pushy little shit. Harvey grips at his arms and hold him in place as he sucks a hickey onto his neck. Mike clutches at him, arches into him, and tries to look annoyed when Harvey pulls away. There's something about Mike's skin and the way it looks with his marks on them that makes Harvey's knees go weak.

"Real mature," Mike says, lips twitching as he tries to suppress a smile. Harvey presses his fingers to the mark and Mike goes still.

"Behave," Harvey says and Mike nods once. Harvey lets him go. He hovers by the door, almost like he's reluctant to leave.

"You gonna be ok?" he asks and Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"You do realise I got on fine without you for 34 years?" he replies and Mike rolls his eyes at him, pulls the door open.

"Love you," he calls as he slams it shut. Harvey just smiles to himself and shakes his head.

Mike comes crawling back into bed at around 2 in the morning, his hands cold as he winds his arms around Harvey and presses his palms to Harvey's back.

"I love you," he whispers against Harvey's neck, and Harvey can smell alcohol on his breath.

"Yeah, I know," Harvey replies and Mike's fingers twitch against his shoulder blade.