Under Your Spell

Mike/Harvey

Summary: Mike needs help falling asleep. Harvey allows him to crash on his office couch and helps put Mike to sleep.

A/N: There have been a lot of "Harvey gives a back rub to Mike" fics, but hell, it's too damn cute.

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This day was not turning out to be a good one. The night before, Mike barely got two hours of sleep before work due to the fact that Harvey sent him home with more work yet again. He finished, sure, but that was sometime around three in the morning. He slept on and off for the most of two hours before his phone blared and Harvey was yelling at him to hurry up and come in. This time he was sure to take a quick shower and change in to a fresh suit. Slightly refreshed, he biked the distance to the firm.

Harvey breathed down his neck most of the morning to hurry up and file something that Mike had absolutely no idea how. Google helped, but he ended up going to Rachel for assistance, who groaned and moaned and finally gave him a book to leaf through. He skipped his lunch period, making damn sure to finish the work Harvey gave him. And of course, Louis was there right when he was ready to head to the hotdog cart situated outside of the firm, giving him something else to do. Needless to say, he didn't get a break at all.

When the clock threatened to hit three, Mike stalked down the hall to Harvey's office. Donna gave him that look again as he reached for the door, saying something about Harvey being busy at the moment and to not disturb him. Mike just nodded and continued on his way, opening the shutting the door as quietly as humanly possible. Harvey was on the phone and he threw up his free index finger in the universal sign for If you say one word, I will murder you. Mike waved a hand in his direction and sunk quite ungracefully in to the couch.

The couch seemed to bring Mike in deeper, causing him to lean in to the back and close his eyes, resting his head on the cushion. His back seemed to slowly unwind itself from him leaning over his desk all day. It feel so damn good, in fact, that he almost moaned. He wanted to sleep so bad, but it was to the point where no matter how much you wanted to sleep, your body would not let you do it. So he took the time to relax.

He didn't even realize that Harvey hung up the phone two minutes ago and was watching him with a grin.

"So, you've finally reached that point," Harvey mused, his grin making it's way on to his voice. His sudden speaking made Mike jump a little and turn to look at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Harvey waved a hand and continued. "Those bags under your eyes say everything. Long day, short night, Louis riding your case."

Harvey stood and buttoned his jacket before striding over and taking a seat beside Mike. Mike blinked slowly and worked his shoulders a bit, sitting up fuller. Harvey was watching him as he moved, smiling happily.

"I barely slept last night," Mike said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "That case you sent home with me kept me up. Then I get here and boom, fuckton of work."

Harvey suppressed his laugh. "A fuckton?"

"It's like a shitload. Only bigger."

Mike leaned back and this time, he moaned softly. Harvey actually laughed and reached over, placing his hand on Mike's neck, kneading the skin there. Mike involuntarily moaned again, drooping his head so his chin was on his chest to give more access. Slowly, Harvey worked one hand against Mike's neck, kneading and working in a small circle. His hand dipped slightly lower, and Mike leaned forward more, his eyes closed tight and basically arching in to the touch. Harvey's hand lowered to where his associate's shoulder blades met, digging the pads of his fingers between them and rubbing hard. Before he knew it, Mike was strewn across his lap, groaning and nearing sleep.

"Mike, don't..." Harvey tried, moving his leg a little and pushing at him since Mike's face was right there, his mouth breathing right there, but it did no good. Hands wormed around his legs and Mike sighed contently, damn near cuddling his legs.

A few failed attempts later ended with Harvey leaning in to the couch, legs slightly spread, and Mike's head in his lap thankfully facing away from his crotch. Mike was fast asleep, snoring and most likely drooling, hence the spread legs to keep drool off of his pants.

Harvey's hand worked absently down Mike's back before reaching over him to the table and picking the case file up that Mike had left there. He used the younger man as his own personal table, spreading the papers over his head and upper back, his free hand kneading the flesh of Mike's lower back. Once Harvey was sure that Mike was asleep, he stopped kneading his skin and went about looking through the case file.

A swift knock on his door about ten minutes later made Harvey look up, seeing as Louis entered with that smug little grin on his face. Then, he noticed that Harvey wasn't alone and he frowned.

"There's, uh..." Louis pointed at Mike, "something on your lap."

"Don't remind me, Louis. Whatever you're here for, spit it out and leave so I can finish."

Harvey gestured to the papers that were nearly covering Mike's entire body as he spoke. Mike, on the other hand, hadn't moved once in the past ten minutes.

Louis was now grinning, his hands shoved in his pockets. "Well, I found what I was looking for."

"He's in a coma," Harvey stated simply.

"I seem to remember a certain someone who barely slept his entire first year." Louis rocked on his heels, looking at the floor for a moment before glancing back up and smirking. "You like him."

"I don't like him. I absolutely care about me. He's a reflection..."

"Of you," Louis cut in, a laugh on his voice. "We've heard the story." The older man rocked on his heels again before turning and going for the door. "You like him," he called over his shoulder as he left.

"No, I don't."

And he most certainly did not say that while pouting. Harvey Specter does not pout.