Mike doesn't sleep that night, he paces his apartment until he comes down, the weed hangover kicking in around three in the morning with a dull ache behind his eyes that could also be tiredness, could also be Harvey, but more than likely its the drugs. The TV throws a flickering light across the living room as Mike flops down on the couch and watches crappy infomercials till he falls asleep somewhere around five in the morning, to some guy claiming that his product is the best.

He wakes a few hours later, the ache behind his eyes is now a fully fledged headache that throbs whenever he moves and he reaches for the remote to shut off the rerun of Friends that's currently being played. He knows its torture but he checks his phone anyway and is greeted by a taunting nothingness on the screen, just the blinking time of 07.02. If Harvey hadn't told him not to come into work today, he would be cursing and jumping into the shower but he throws his phone back onto the coffee table and tries to ignore the stinging in his eyes.

His apartment smells of stale smoke, the lingering aromatic smell of weed still hangs in the drapes and Mike groans as he gets up, flings the windows open and pulls in a deep breath of morning air. He wants to call Harvey, wants to apologise for breaking his trust and getting high, demand an apology from Harvey for behaving like a dick yesterday thus making Mike go get high, apologies all round. But in the back of his mind he knows its not entirely Harvey's fault. He's not that kid anymore, he can't blame his fuck ups on other people, he can't even blame Trevor, because Trevor is god knows where doing god knows what with god knows who and Mike kind of wishes he was here actually. He would tell Mike to grow up, fix him coffee and tell him he was being a girl.

Coffee.

He shuffles into the kitchen and puts the kettle on, rests his hips against the counter as he waits for it to boil and dumps the grounds into the pot. He jumps when his phone beeps, nearly pours boiling water over his hand and is halfway across the living room in a split second, grabbing at his phone.

Harvey says your grandmother's ill and you wont be in till Monday…everything alright?

It's Rachel. And Mike can't even spare a smile at her concern. He wants it to be Harvey, he wants to hear Harvey's voice, for Harvey to call him, even to shout at him down the phone and tell him he needs him in work, or call him an idiot for getting high and to actually fire him, anything as long as its Harvey's voice on the line not Rachel's text. This whole limbo thing is driving Mike crazy and its only been an hour since he woke up, a freaking hour and Mike already feels like his skin is too small and the world is pitching under his feet. He scrubs a hand over his face and types a reply, his hands shaking slightly.

Yeah fine, see you Monday

Monday. At least that gives him a time limit. He's pretty sure he can cope with today and the weekend. Pretty sure. Only time will tell though and come Monday he might be sitting, rocking in the corner like a gibbering wreck and muttering nonsensical words under his breath.

His phone beeps again as he shoves it into his pocket and he swallows down the jolt of hope that it might be Harvey this time. (God he's pathetic sometimes.)

oh he's also telling everyone you saved the day yesterday, good work, Your Highness :)

Mike smiles at that. A little sadly, but it's a smile nevertheless, because Harvey is talking about him and Harvey is telling people he did a good job, even though inside he knows Harvey is probably seething right now and wants nothing more than to strangle him with his bare hands.

Its probably a testament to how high he got last night and how little sleep he achieved that his next thought is one of anger, he's flicking through emotions like a kid in a candy store (I want that one, no that one, no wait that one). Yes ok Mike got high, but only because Harvey was being dick. If he didn't want Mike anymore all he had to do was say so, not force Mike to tap out. Harvey was the one that started this in the first place, bought out a side of Mike he never knew existed and he's pretty sure he can't ever go back to a normal relationship ever again, the memory of how Harvey's words, commands if you will, affect him are still too fresh right now and just thinking about them sends a frisson of lust up his spine. He throws his phone across the room in a fit a pique. A childish temper tantrum because God he wants Harvey back but he wants Harvey to work for it (even though he's pretty sure if Harvey called right now he would be out of the door and in Harvey's office, on his knees at Harvey's feet within half an hour).

He needs to get out, pacing his apartment is killing him, his phone is taunting him with its silence and he needs air. He grabs his wallet and phone and slams the door behind him.

"Hey grammy," Mike smiles as he slips into her room. She shifts in her bed, pushing herself up and Mike is struck by how frail she looks all of a sudden. All his life she has been there, with a kind smile, stern word, sharp slap to the back of his head, or soothing kisses and now Mike is hit with an almost crippling fear that she wont be there forever. He found himself at the front of the home after walking around for hours, his head whirring, anger at Harvey's lack of response to "I love you" boiling under his skin.

"Michael…you look tired…and sad, what's happened?" She smiles and holds out a hand to him. He sits next to her on her bed and hooks a knee under him and takes her hand in his own, her skin is smooth and papery under his fingers.

"Nothing…I'm…fine," she raises an eyebrow at him and Mike squirms slightly.

"You know you can't lie to me," she says and Mike lets out a small laugh. God he wants to be a kid again right now, to curl up next to her and have her run her fingers through his hair and tell him everything was going to be ok. He swallows the lump in his throat.

"…it's Harvey," he says and she clenches her fingers around his. Mike has always been honest with her, to the point that Trevor though it was weird, most people did. But she's easy and nonjudgmental and always ready to listen with a cup of tea and gentle words. He told her about Harvey not long after Harvey had kissed him that first time and left the ground under Mike's feet unsteady. She had nodded, asked him why it had taken him so long to figure out he had a crush on his boss and told him to be a man about it.

"Is he being a, what did you call him the other day? A toppy bastard?" Mike can't help but laugh at that. He had been pissed at Harvey that day, strung out from too much work and not enough sleep and Harvey had gone out to schmooze with clients, leaving Mike pacing the apartment by himself. He thinks it might have been punishment for working on Louis's brief before Harveys but he learnt his lesson that night after he got home to find a furious Harvey glaring at him across the living room (Harvey had placed bruises on his hip bones that night, exactly where his trousers lay, on purpose). Mike shakes his head, "no grammy, he's not, and that's kind of the problem," he admits.

"What did you do?" she asks and Mike rolls his eyes, wondering what it says about him that everyone asks him that. Is he really that much of a fuck up?

"I told him I loved him," he says finally after the raised eyebrow glare from grammy gets too much to ignore. She doesn't even flinch.

"Do you?" she asks, because she always needs to know all the facts before she makes an opinion. Mike sighs, runs a hand through his hair and massages the back of his neck. He drops his hand as she raises her eyebrows at the mark on his neck. She asked about them the other day and Mike had squirmed, and she had put two and two together and made four. She wasn't stupid, but she loved him and expressed worry. Mike had been honest when he told her it was fine, he liked it. Yes, that had been a very embarrassing conversation and one he'd really not like to have ever again.

"Yeah, I do," he replies and she nods once, "I really do."

"And what did he say?"

"Nothing, then I shouted at him and stormed out of work and…got high," he answers, wringing his hands in front of him. Grammy sighs and rubs at her temple.

"Oh dear..." she shifts in her bed slightly, pushing herself back up and mike leans forward to plump her pillow, "but he'll forgive you, he always does, doesn't he?" He wants to smile at her, wants to trust her opinion of the man she's never met but who makes her grandson infuriated but happy. But he shrugs.

"Not so sure this time, and anyway, he started this, he messed it up to begin with, why should he forgive me? Shouldn't it be me forgiving him?" he sulks, crossing his arms. He would slouch if he wasn't sitting on her bed next to her.

"Listen to yourself, you sound like a spoilt brat," she snaps, snaking a surprisingly fast hand out and clipping him round the ear, "its not you messed up, or he messed up. You both did. So figure it out because I have never seen you so happy as when you're with Harvey, you hear me?"

"I hear you…"

"If he can't see through your screw ups then he's just an idiot who spends far too much money on suits," she finishes with a nod, her tone suggesting she wont hear any more. She's done with the advice for one night. Mike smiles at her as she cups his face in her papery hands.

"He'd like you," he says, his voice muffled slightly by the way she's squeezing his face.

"Who doesn't?" she replies with her wicked smile and her eyes twinkle.

"Good point."

Mike feels lighter as he walks back to his apartment. His talks with grammy always make him smile, no matter what she says, even when she's calling him a screw up and slapping him round the back of the head, its because she loves him unconditionally and he knows that.

It's why he usually takes her advice, because she knows him better than anyone, despite his fuck ups, and she wants what's best for him. It's why he usually finds himself at her home the minute things go wrong, walking to clear his head and finding himself sitting beside her pouring his pathetic, childish (goddamn bruised) heart out.

There's a part of him that wants to call Jenny too, talk it out with her, because even though they've pretty much gone their separate ways, they could always talk to each other about anything. And honestly, he misses her, the way she would laugh at him, and call him an idiot whenever he got something "relationshipy" completely and hopelessly wrong. Which was pretty much whenever he ventured in the relationship land.

What it all boils down to though is that he wants Harvey. God, everything about him. The arrogance, the smirk, the dark words whispered in his ear, the soft touches on the back of his neck when Harvey thinks no one else is looking. He wants everything, he wants to give himself over to Harvey and have Harvey take care of him (he really doesn't know where that thought comes from, Mike's always wanted to take acre of himself, not have someone else do it, but its Harvey and Harvey messes Mike's mind up evidently). But he's pissed too. He knows he fucked up by getting high, but equally Harvey fucked up by not explaining things to him, but not talking to him. Leaving him worried and confused about bringing up safe words when he'd meant it as a joke, a throw away comment designed to get Harvey to smile at him, leaving him cold and aching for his touch when he ignored that blurted declaration of love.

And Jesus Mike sounds like a girl right now.

He's got his phone in his hand by the time he puts the key in the door of his apartment.

"Is he there?" he asks as Donna picks up the phone. He called Harvey's direct line but he obviously had his calls put through to her. She answers in her typical professional manner and it makes Mike want to be standing in front of her desk making faces at her to get her to crack, like he does when they've had a particularly good day and Harvey is smiling at him.

"What did you do?" she asks because she knows his voice and because he's one of the few people who have his direct line. Jessica and Donna are the only other two, that he knows of and it had made him swell with pride when Donna had let that slip.

"How do you know it wasn't him that fucked up?" he says and he can practically see the raised eyebrow over the phone. He sighs.

"Kid, I haven't seen him this…pissed in a long time, and since he's pissed, and you're not here I'm getting the feeling it has to do with you. But if that upsets you, I'll rephrase...what the hell happened?" she asks and Mike is kind of glad that Harvey's pissed, in the way that you hope an ex is miserable, because at least that shows they care right? Its childish and Mike wants to slap himself for it, but really when you think about it, its human nature.

"Does it matter Donna? Is he there?" he knows he is there, he can hear it in Donna's voice, the way she lowers her tone, and she's probably turned away from Harvey's office.

"He told me not to put calls through, well he told me not to put your calls through. So either you two love birds have had a spat or…no that's all I came up with. Sorry Kid, he pays the bills," she says and there's a hint of an apology in her voice, like she wants nothing more than to put his call through and listen over the intercom at the, probably, heated conversation. Mike still has no idea what's he's going to say once he's persuaded Donna to put him through. She will put him through, Donna loves him, Mike knows that, even hard Donna can't resist his smile. Also, Harvey may pay the bills but its not like Donna has ever toed the line when it came to conventional rules.

"Donna, please?" he says and he hears Donna sigh, then there's muffled noises, the sound of a hand being placed over the receiver and voices in the background and then Donna comes back on the line.

"Harvey wants you in work on Monday," Donna says and Mike seethes. The arrogant bastard wont even tell him himself. The fucking asshole doesn't have the courage to pick up the phone and tell Mike to get his ass back into the office. Well, screw him, screw Harvey Specter and all he holds dear.

"Harvey wants me back in work but wont take my call? Harvey can go fuck himself," Mike snaps as he slams the phone down and flinches slightly. Not only is Harvey going to be pissed at him, now Donna is too, and truth be told he's a little more scared of Donna than he is of Harvey, right now.

"Donna's pissed at you," Mike jumps slightly, his hand hitting the edge of his post box as Harvey steps out of the shadows of the entrance hall to Mike's apartment. Mike has been out, walking again, but also stocking up on alcohol because he's pretty sure he's going to get wasted again tonight and drown his sorrows with Jack, Jim and Jose. He doesn't know how long Harvey's been waiting there and he stamps down the guilt that he's made Harvey wait. Mike curses and slams the box shut, "I had to restrain her from marching over here herself," Harvey continues, a hint of a smile in his voice. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets and there are dark circles under his eyes again. His hair isn't as perfect as it usually is, a few strands hanging lose over his forehead and Mike feels another stab of guilt at that. There's a lingering smile at the corner of Harvey's lips though and it soothes the stab and turns it into anger. He narrows his eyes and punches the elevator call button.

"Go away Harvey," he says and Harvey sighs, places his hand over Mike's on the call button and just looks at him. Mike closes his eyes and pulls his hand out, his skin warm where Harvey touched him. He glares though, glares at him and turns away, going to take the stairs.

"Mike..." Harvey calls after him and Mike bounds up the first flight of stairs. "Michael...I know you want to turn around," Harvey says, amused, and ok now Mike's really pissed. He takes the stairs two at a time. "Mike...stop," there's that tone, the one that leaves no room for argument, the one that Mike's been dreaming of for the past two days (God has it really only been two days since Harvey's touched him?). Mike stops, dead in his tracks, his fingers gripping at the stair rail.

"Just...stop it, ok?" he says, almost pleading, and turns to find Harvey right behind him, he's on the step below and he's shorter than Mike now but even so Mike gets the feeling he's looking up at him. Harvey reaches out and tugs gently on Mike's belt.

"Puppy," he mutters because he's a bastard and he knows what that name does to Mike and Mike swallows against the need (yes its a need thank you) to slip to his knees right now.

"Stop it," he pushes gently at Harvey's chest, gives himself the space he needs to turn and walk away. He makes it to his door without his knees giving out and he's kind of pleased until Harvey plasters himself to Mike's back and pins him against the door.

"Rookie..." he whispers into Mike's ear and fuck that's not fair. Harvey pulls away slightly and Mike manages to get the key into the lock and turn it.

"I thought," Mike snaps, pushing his door open but whirling around to glare at Harvey, "I told Donna to tell you to go fuck yourself?" Harvey actually laughs, pushes his way into Mike's apartment and frowns slightly like he always does whenever he's there.

"Although I'm not adverse to a little 'me time'," Harvey says, slipping his jacket off his arms and honestly, how in the hell is Mike meant to think when Harvey's stripping in his living room? "I think actually fucking myself might be a physical impossibility, even for someone of my calibre," he smirks and holds his jacket out to Mike. Mike crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at him.

"What do you want, Harvey?" he sighs and Harvey nods, folds his jacket and lays it gently, likes its a child (it probably cost more than the average cost of bringing up a child anyway) across the arm of Mike's couch, "come to fire me in person?" Harvey looks up at that, sharply his features carefully schooled, then he scoffs.

"No, Donna would kill me if I fired you, even though she wants to kill you right now," he says taking a step towards Mike. Mike steps back because he doesn't really trust himself around Harvey, doesn't trust himself not to just give up and hand over everything to Harvey, and Harvey is probably very aware of that, "came to give you your job back, you will be back in work on Monday."

"What makes you think I want it back after the dickish way you behaved?" he says, his back is against the door now and Harvey smirks, wolfish smile curling his lips as he advances on him.

"I was a dick?" Harvey asks, places his hands either side of Mike's head. Mike looks up at him and doesn't really understand how Harvey can make himself look so tall when actually he's probably only half an inch taller than Mike. Mike's probably slouching, that must be it. "You got high," Harvey says, leaning in and his eyes go dark as they rake over his neck. Mike swallows.

"Cos I was pissed at you," he replies and Harvey pulls back enough to look at him in the eyes.

"You tapped out," he says and there's emotion there, something swimming under the possessive glint in Harvey's eyes, something Mike had never been able to figure out and now, with Harvey standing so close and anger and lust running through his veins its especially hard.

"You basically forced me too," he says giving a quick shove to Harvey's chest. Harvey just holds fast, leans in a little closer and watches as Mike curls his fingers into his shirt.

"You said you love me," he says, his voice low and Mike drops his hand from the soft shirt like it's burnt him, looks at Harvey. His face is so close and he licks at his lips once. Mike swallows, stay pissed Mike, stay pissed, no matter how pleased you are to see him here, stay pissed.

"Yeah...well..." he starts and Harvey leans in even closer, runs his thumb down the side of Mike's neck and he loses all train of thought, "I have no comeback to that cos it's true so..." he shrugs and a slow smile spreads over Harvey's face.

"I was being a dick huh?" Harvey asks again, stepping away and crossing his arms. Mike feels the heat leave his body and his crosses his own arms, tries his best to look dignified with a half hard dick tenting the front of his jeans.

"Yes," Mike sulks and Harvey takes a quick step towards him, places his hands on either side of his face and kisses him. God, Harvey's kissing him, and Mike may or may not let out possibly the most embarrassing noise known to man and he wraps his fingers around Harvey's wrists.

"Sorry," Harvey mutters against Mike's mouth and Mike doesn't care, Harvey just needs to stop talking and keep on kissing him.

"For what?" he asks because Harvey's finally got his hands on him, cupping Mike's face and running his thumbs across Mike's cheeks, and Mike can taste of coffee on Harvey's breath as it ghosts over his lips and he honestly can't remember why he's meant to be pissed at him right now, "wait..." he pulls away a little and a frown flits over Harvey's face, "did you just apologise?"

"Don't get used to it," Harvey replies, kissing him hard and deep again before pulling away completely and stepping back, giving Mike enough room to think, to breathe. He starts rolling up his sleeves, neatly folding them up until his forearms are exposed. "Ok three things..." he says, frowning as he looks around the apartment, presumably looking for a clean surface to sit on, "one, you're a self destructive little shit and if you ever get high again, my God, will there be consequences, and not the good ones," a shiver runs up Mike's spine at that.

"Like what?" he can't help but ask and Harvey holds up a hand, removing an empty Chinese take out container off the couch and sitting down.

"Still talking," he says in that infuriating voice that makes Mike want to punch him, or sink to his knees and swallow him whole, "Two, you want a safe word you pick a safe word. I want you happy and comfortable when we go into this properly," he hooks at finger at Mike who raises an eyebrow but obediently goes to him. Mike wants to slap himself round the back of the head for that because honestly? When did he become Harvey's bitch? Oh yeah, when Harvey decided to make him his bitch. Months ago.

"What exactly is this?" he asks as Harvey wraps his fingers around Mike's belt again, and tugs hard. Mike falls, and its only his cat like reflexes that stop him falling straight onto Harvey. He presses his hands to the top of the couch and hovers over Harvey. Harvey stares up at him with an amused expression. "And hang on what makes you think I'm taking you back?"

"Oh, no, no no, I'm taking you back because of three," Harvey explains, like he's talking to a child, and he winds his hands between Mike's legs, hauls him off his feet and into his lap. Harvey looks impossibly pleased with himself when Mike finally registers what happened and blinks down at him.

"What's three?" Mike asks, Harvey's hands splayed across his hips. His fingers tighten and he looks up at Mike, his expression flipping from amused to serious in an instant.

"I love you," Mike can feel the slow smile spread across his face and Harvey's answering one, tinged with hesitation is probably one of the best things he has ever seen.

"I suppose that's a good enough reason for me to take you back," Mike says and Harvey laughs, lifts him and Mike finds himself flat on his back, the TV remote digging into his spine and Harvey staring down at him with an expression that can only be described as predatory.

God it feels good to have Harvey's comforting weight pressing him down again, his thigh between his own, knee pressed up against his crotch. Mike's well aware of how pathetic he's been the last two days when he couldn't have this. They've had times before when they didn't touch for days, but that wasn't forced distance, it wasn't because Harvey was pissed and Mike was hurting. It was work, or Louis (that mother fucker had kept Mike practically chained to his desk for three days once), or some other function that Harvey couldn't wriggle out of no matter how much he smiled at Jessica. But this time had been worse, because Mike wasn't sure he'd ever get this back, ever get Harvey looking down at him like Mike's an offering, or Harvey's hand curled around the back of his neck with his thumb running up the side, over his pulse. Mike lets out a strangled whine as Harvey presses his thumb into a bruise and Harvey's eyes darken. Mike wants to say it again, wants to kiss Harvey till their both panting, whispering "I love you" into his mouth like its a secret for only the two of them. Which is how Harvey feels, Mike's willing to bet, he'll probably deny he ever said it to Mike if Mike ever tells anyone. Except Donna. Donna would believe him and Donna probably knows already.

"You're thinking," Harvey says, pressing his thumb under Mike's chin, "Remember what we said about you thinking?" Mike swallows against the slight pressure on his Adam's apple.

"Never in the bedroom," Mike recites automatically and Harvey smiles, a slow smile and leans forward, kisses Mike to within an inch of his life, "but we're not in the bedroom," Mike says once Harvey pulls away and Harvey raises an eyebrow, pushes himself off Mike and holds his hand out to him, hauls him to his feet.

"Not yet," Harvey responds, grabbing his jacket off the arm of the couch.

They catch a cab to Harvey's apartment ("seriously Mike, not staying here...ever"). And the journey is probably the most embarrassing cab journey in the history of cab journeys, with Harvey's hand down Mike's pants and Mike making the most pathetic noises know to man, and the driver smirking at them and muttering a knowing "have a good night gentlemen", as they slip out of the cab and Harvey presses his hand to the small of Mike's back.

"I hate you," Mike mutters darkly as Harvey laughs, nods at the concierge and makes his way to the outrageous private glass elevator.

"No you don't," Harvey replies, stabbing at the P for penthouse and pushing Mike up against the glass wall.

Before Harvey, or BH as Mike likes to think of it in his head, Mike would have at least waited until they were in the relative privacy of the, you know, glass walled apartment (apart from the one time after the aforementioned three days chained to his own desk when Mike had gone down on Harvey the second the doors had closed), but now, when Harvey shoves him up against the wall and drags his hands up Mike's ribs, fingers playing over the bumps under his skin, Mike doesn't care about privacy one little bit, as long as Harvey keeps sucking on that bruise and his fingers keep twisting his nipple.

"Oh God," he drags out and Harvey huffs a laugh against his neck, tongue flicking out to lick at his skin as he pulls Mike's shirt completely out of his jeans and sinks to his knees to nip at Mike's hips.

And Jesus its so unfair that Harvey can make Mike this close to orgasm without even touching his dick. And he's pretty sure he says that out loud because Harvey laughs, licks at Mike's hip and stands again, straightens his jacket as the glass door slide open to Harvey's apartment and Harvey suddenly sobers, pushing Mike out gently.

"Sit," he points at the couch and Mike frowns at his back as he turns to the fridge to grab two bottles of water.

"What about..."

"Sit," Harvey says again and Mike does, his knees practically giving out at the tone in Harvey's voice. A bottle of water comes sailing through the air and Mike catches it one handed, as Harvey sits down on the table in front of Mike. Mike doesn't quite know what the hell is going on right now, first Harvey says he loves him, plasters him against the elevator wall and then everything stops, and now he's sitting on furniture, which is highly unusual as the last time Mike sat on the coffee table, Harvey had stripped him naked and made him beg for half an hour before he let him come.

"What's this about?" he asks, his leg bouncing nervously, and he gets the feeling he's about to be hurt again. Harvey lays a hand on his knee and Mike stills. He doesn't miss the way Harvey's jaw twitches.

"You picked a safe word?" Harvey asks and Mike cocks his head to the side. Harvey looks down at his water, twists the cap off and takes a pull. Mike watches the way his throat bobs and swallows himself.

"I wasn't aware there was a time limit on it," he says and Harvey wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. There's a drop of water clinging to the corner of Harvey's lips and Mike can't stop himself from leaning forward and swiping it off with the pad of his thumb. Harvey catches his hand and pulls it between them.

"Listen, Mike..."

"I don't like that tone..." Mike interrupts, because he doesn't. It's serious and Harvey's face has done that annoying impassive thing it does when he doesn't want to show emotions (which let's face it, is pretty much all the time).

"I want to explain something," Harvey says simply, his fingers playing over the back of Mike's hand.

"Ok."

"What do you want out of this?" Harvey asks, looking at him, searching Mike's face and Mike frowns slightly, tugging experimentally at his hand. Harvey's grip tightens and Mike stills again.

"I thought you were explaining?"

"In order for me to explain I need to know what you want," Harvey says, reaching forward and curling his hand around the back of Mike's neck. In their current position, Harvey is taller, sitting on the edge of the coffee table with Mike sitting on the low couch in front of him and Harvey spreads his legs, pulling Mike forward and dragging his fingers across Mike's skin.

"I want..." Mike starts and realises he has no idea how to vocalise what he wants. He's also never been big with the whole talking during sex thing, verbalising his thoughts and feelings during sex (the question "tell me what you're thinking" makes him want to punch the question asker in the face, because honestly, not thinking about much right now). He feels his face flush slightly and Harvey pulls him an inch closer, bringing his hand round till he can get a thumb under Mike's chin again.

"Do I need to make you tell me?" he asks and Mike shivers (a full body shiver like someone's doing the Hokey Pokey on your grave or something like). Harvey's fingers twitch against his neck and his eyes flicker dark.

"I want that," Mike says, and once he starts, he can't stop, "I want you telling me to do things, I want your hands around my wrists and your dick inside and your bruises on my neck, I want you to say 'good boy' to me and I never want you to bet me to Louis again, I want..." Mike trails off as Harvey lets out a groan and pulls him close, covers his mouth with his own and licks his way inside. He's said it before, he'll say it again, Harvey is probably the best kisser in the world, bar none. He pulls back all too soon but keeps his hands around Mike's neck.

"A few things," he says, pressing a kiss to Mike's forehead as he lets him go and sits back. Mike takes a shaky breath in and opens his water. "This doesn't leave the bedroom, well this apartment really. I'm not adverse to a quick handjob at work, but in the office I want you fighting with me, I want the Mike I hired, got it?" Mike nods, "you safe word, I stop immediately and we talk it out. Same goes for if I safe word," he finishes and Mike nearly chokes on his water. Harvey raises an amused eyebrow as Mike swallows.

"Wait, you..."

"Safe words work both ways Mike, if I feel things are out of hand I will stop it," he says and frowns again. To be honest he'd never really thought about it, never thought of the logistics and the politics involved in this kind of relationship, because he never really dared to hope that he was actually in a relationship with Harvey. But Harvey's sitting in front of him now, his face open and honest for one of the first times Mike has ever noticed and Mike can't help himself from moving forward and crawling onto Harvey's lap. Harvey smiles almost indulgently as he wraps his arms around Mike's waist and lets Mike kiss him.

"I'm pretty sure this table wasn't designed to be sat on by two people so...as much as I am enjoying this...up," Mike scrambles off Harvey's lap and stands, putting a little distance between them as his mind whirs, ever bloody thinking. God sometimes he wishes he could just switch it off. "Thinking again Rookie?"

"Just..."

"What?" Harvey makes an abortive move towards him, his hand lifting like he wants to tug Mike closer but he stops himself, almost as if he wants to give Mike space to think and that just makes Mike love him even more. Mike reaches forward and scrunches the material of Harvey's shirt between his fingers.

"Can we get to the sex now please?" Mike asks and Harvey laughs, his body vibrating as he kisses Mike and laughs into his mouth.

"Few more things first, kid," he says letting Mike go again and Mike really doesn't care right now, all he wants is Harvey to strip him naked and make him come. "I wont hurt you," Harvey starts and stop at Mike's raises eyebrow.

"Um..." Mike waves a hand in the direct of the bruises on his neck and the angry bite mark lurking under his collar. Harvey's hands twitch by his sides.

"You know what I mean," he says seriously and Mike nods, "I wont hurt you badly, I don't like doing it," he says and something crosses his face that makes Mike wonder about Harvey's past, a slight shadow of past regrets. Mike steps forward and places his hand on Harvey's chest, stroking his fingers against the expensive material of Harvey's shirt.

"I get it," he says and Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"Do you?"

"Yes, safe words are important, this doesn't leave the apartment, you wont hurt me blah blah can we please have sex now?"

"This is important Mike," Harvey says going to step away and Mike clutches at his shirt, wrinkling the material in his fists again and Harvey stops, covers Mike's hands with his own.

"I know. But I trust you and I just…just really need to you fuck me right now so can you…" Harvey silences him with his mouth, groaning into the kiss like he's dying and Mike answers it with a groan of his own, surging forward and pressing himself as close to Harvey as he can get. Harvey's hands slide up his back, firm against his shoulder blades as he pulls him closer and walks them backwards towards his bedroom. Mike's stomach flips as Harvey slides his mouth across his jaw, nipping gently at the skin. He gets his hands under Mike's t-shirt, palms almost hot, and tugs, pulling it over Mike's head and there's that awful moment when Harvey has to take his mouth from Mike's skin for Mike to extract himself from the shirt. But then Harvey's back, muttering "God Mike I…" against his mouth and Mike briefly wonders why Harvey never finishes his sentences when they're like this. But then Harvey pushes his hands into the back of his jeans, finger sliding down his ass between his cheeks and pretty much every coherent thought goes out of his head.

But it's always that way with Harvey, he makes Mike's brain quiet and Mike loves him for it. Well he loves him for giving him a chance, for the way he can drag four orgasms out of him in one night and the way his kisses feel like Harvey is putting all of his focus into them too, not just that he makes his brain go quiet the second he puts his hands on Mike.

"Knees," Harvey drags out, giving Mike's ass a quick squeeze and extracting his hands and Mike drops to his knees, hands shaking slightly as he lifts them to Harvey's pants and fumbles with the belt. He slides the belt free from the loops one by one, looking up at Harvey as he does and Harvey's eyes go dark as he cups Mike's face and pushes his thumb into his mouth. Harvey makes that choked off noise in the back of his throat as Mike sucks on his thumb, tongue dragging over the pad of the finger. He drops the belt on the floor and slides the zipper down slowly and Harvey groans, pulls his thumb out and presses it under Mike's chin, runs it down his throat. He manages to undo Harvey's pants without looking and push them down his thighs. Harvey's skin is smooth, dusted with almost fine hairs and Mike leans forward, mouths at the already noticeable bulge on Harvey's boxers (silk, no surprise there). Harvey slides his hand into Mike's hair, grips at the back of his head and his hips stutter forwards as Mike continues to mouth at his dick through the silk, and Harvey grinds out a dark "Mike," as his hand tightens in his hair.

Mike hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down, licking at his lips as Harvey's dick springs up, dark and hard, against Harvey's stomach. Mike leans forward and licks up the vein on the underside, swirls his tongue over the slit and tastes pre come as he wraps his lips around the head and sucks. Harvey grunts, pushes his hips forward, his other hand falling to Mike's hair. Mike opens his throat, swallows Harvey down and hums around him and he feels the muscles in Harvey's thighs twitch with the effort not to drive hard into the back of his throat. He hums again, encouragingly and Harvey gives up the fight, pulses his hips forward and Mike just takes it, swallows around him and lets Harvey fuck his mouth.

"Fuck," Harvey mutters, unwinds his fingers from Mike's hair and runs a thumb over his cheekbone, smoothing a tear into Mike's skin. But then Harvey's pulling out and Mike lets him go with a pop as Harvey hauls him to his feet and licks the taste of himself from Mike's mouth, "undress, get on the bed."

Mike's hands move before his brain has even registered the command, fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans. Harvey growls, pushes him flat on the bed and rips the jeans and boxers off Mike in one go, throwing them over his shoulder and he crawls up Mike in a way that makes Mike shudder in anticipation.

"Did you pick a word yet?" Harvey asks, his breath hot against Mike's lips and Mike wonders how the hell is meant to speak right now as Harvey wraps his hand around Mike's dick and twists sharply.

"Enterprise," Mike replies almost instantly and Harvey pulls away and looks down at him, raises an eyebrow.

"Seriously?"

"Well its not like I am ever going to say it by accident and I thought Kobayashi Maru was too long and might be kinda difficult to say in the heat of the moment," Mike replies, shifting his hips to get Harvey to move his hand again. Harvey tightens his grip and his expression goes from amused and pleased to dark.

"Stay still," he says and Mike immediately stills, "good boy." He moves his hand again, twisting it slowly and Mike bites his lip to stay still, to keep his hips from chasing his hand as he drags it up Mike's dick.

Harvey brings Mike to the edge of orgasm, holds him there with stern words and a tight grip at the base of his dick as he reaches over him to grab a bottle of lube and a condom from the bedside table. Mike fists his hands into the sheets as Harvey pours lube onto his fingers and pushes one inside him. He wants to push back against Harvey's hand but he told him to stay still so Mike bites on his lip again as Harvey add another finger and hooks them around inside. "You have no idea what you look like," Harvey says, his voice wrecked, "so fucking beautiful," he says, pressing a third finger in on 'beautiful' and Mike wants to blush, wants to tell Harvey he's not a freaking girl, he may have soft features and a lithe physique, but he's no girl. But Harvey's words are dark and his hand is hard around his dick, his fingers curling inside of him and he leans forward and kisses Mike hard and Mike forgets what he was going to say.

"I'm going to fuck you now and you aren't going to come until I say so, got that Rookie?" Harvey says and Mike can only nod as he pulls his fingers out and Mike feels suddenly empty. He whines and Harvey smiles down at him, runs a hand down his chest and rips the condom packet open with his teeth. The sight of Harvey rolling it down over his dick is something Mike will probably never get used to. Harvey really is magnificent, every single inch, and he's still got his shirt on, rolled up to the elbows, but his thighs are twitching and he arches his hips into his hand as he strokes himself once before lifting Mike's hips and pushing in, in one agonisingly slow thrust.

Harvey closes his eyes and throws back his head as he pulls completely out and pushes back in again, groaning loudly and Mike keeps his open, watches the way Harvey swallows and licks at his lips. And its almost like Harvey feels Mike's eyes on him because he snaps his gaze down, locks it with Mike's. The rhythm is almost punishing, steady and strong and Mike can feel his orgasm coil in the pit of his stomach as Harvey leans forward and kisses him hard, worries Mike's bottom lip between his teeth and curls one hand around Mike's dick. Harvey shifts his hips and Mike sees stars as he hits that spot deep inside him.

"Harvey…please," he gasps and Harvey twists his hand at the same time as he drives in and Mike practically bites through his lip, closing his eyes and clutching at Harvey's shoulders.

"Ok kid, come now," Harvey's voice is dark in his ear and Mike feels his stomach contract, his whole body going taught, Harvey drives in again and runs his thumb over the tip of Mike's dick and that's it, Mike is done. He comes hard enough that he's pretty sure he passes out for a second, his stomach warm and wet as Harvey's skin slides across it and Harvey's hips stutter and then he's coming too, biting down on Mike's collar bone, his teeth pressing into skin almost hard enough to break it.

"Fuck," Mike mutters as Harvey collapses onto him, huffing out hot breath against the crook of Mike's neck. His fingers play at Mike's ribs, dancing over skin and Mike shifts, "that tickles," he says and Harvey lifts his head with an amused, yet calculating smile on his face.

"You're ticklish?" he asks and doesn't give Mike time to answer, licks into his mouth instead and kisses Mike till he can't breathe properly. "I am so going to use that against you…once I can move again."

"You're evil, you know that?" Mike ask and Harvey laughs, runs a hand through Mike's hair and smiles at him in the way that makes Mike's chest warm. God he really is a girl, isn't he? Harvey's face goes from relaxed and amused to sober and serious and he shifts against Mike, his dick slips from Mike's body and Mike winces slightly.

"Mike…I…" he starts and Mike gets it, he really does, its right there on Harvey's face, pouring from his eyes and Mike reaches up, massages his fingers at the base of his neck.

"I get it Harvey," he says and Harvey narrows his eyes slightly.

"Do you though?" he asks and Mike smiles at the use of his drunken words. Harvey kisses him again then, gently this time, just a press of lips and rolls them both till Mike's tucked against Harvey's chest, his heartbeat thumping loudly in his ear.

He wakes, probably only a few hours later, and Harvey is naked now, his shirt no doubt neatly folded somewhere in the bedroom. It never really gets dark in Harvey's apartment, but Mike likes that, he gets to see Harvey sleep mussed and completely relaxed, his face smooshed into a pillow and his hair out of its rock solid coif. He can't see that now though because he's tucked into the curve of Harvey's body, back against Harvey's chest and Harvey's possessive arm around his waist holding him close, holding him still. Mike shifts, presses back against him and Harvey mutters something, lips skating across the back of Mike's neck.

Mike needs to pee and he's learnt over the last few months that Harvey's grip can be vice like even when he's asleep. He shifts again, trying to extricate himself from the death grip.

"Uh-uh Rookie, where do you think you're going?" Harvey's voice is thick with sleep, his breath hot against Mike's neck. Mike digs an elbow back into Harvey's ribs.

"If you don't let go I'm going to piss on your $1000 sheets," Harvey lets go almost immediately and Mike smiles to himself as he crawls out of bed on shaky legs. The lights in the bathroom are almost too bright and Mike squints against the harshness, blinks a couple of times to clear his vision and inspects the new bite on his collar bone. He presses his fingers into it till it hurts and wonders, again, what it says about him that he loves to see his skin marred and marked by Harvey. He shakes his head to clear it, empties his bladder and washes his hands, drinking a mouthful of cold water to soothe his throat that feels like he's been shouting for hours and switches the light off (he learnt that the hard way "Mike, if you fucking leave the lights on one more time there are going to be serious repercussions.").

Harvey's nearly asleep again as he makes it back to bed and Mike lets himself look at him for a few seconds, his face completely relaxed. There a crease on his face from the pillow and Mike wants to lick it, but he settles for crawling back into bed instead. Harvey shifts, turns on his side and Mike plasters himself to his chest, snakes his arms around him and pulls the covers up over them.

"Fucking limpet," Harvey mutters sleepily, but he winds his arms around Mike anyway, pulls him close.

"You love me," Mike replies, pressing into Harvey's body, "and you can't deny it, photographic memory, remember?"

Harvey's reply is a tightening of his arms and a kiss pressed to Mike's forehead.

Mike maybe Harvey's bitch. But he's pretty sure Harvey is at least a little bit Mike's bitch. And he's also pretty sure that Harvey's ok with it.