A/N: I am so sorry took so long to update, but thank you all so much for all the love you've given me for this story! I promise you more frequent updates in the future.

This is just a filler, Trevor/Mike bromance chapter, really. It does have some sort of significance, I promise.

Chapter Two: Call Me Maybe

"He's my best friend,

Best of all best friend,

You should get a best friend, too."

Toybox

It's not like I was, you know, stalking Harvey or whatever. But if I went in to Pearson Hardman again the next day to grab Trevor for lunch and happened to run into him, well, I certainly wasn't going to complain. (I didn't run into him, even though I got lost and circled the 50th floor twice. If I looked like I was pouting as I headed down to the mailroom to grab Trevor, it was just a trick of the light. Totally)

When I did finally get down five floors to see my friend, he was leaning against the wall next to the mailroom door, intently scrolling through his iPhone. He was so immersed in whatever he was doing he didn't notice as I ran up to him and shouted BOO straight in his ear.

Trev jumped away from the wall, almost smacking me in the process, and stared at me with wide, surprised eyes.

"Shit, Mikey!" Trevor cried, clutching at his heart in a dramatic manner. "You scared the hell outta me!"

I grinned and slung an arm around his shoulders to begin dragging him away. "You have to stay on your toes, buddy," I teased. "What if I were an axe murderer or something, come to kill you?"

"Because security would totally just let you in if you waltzed in carrying a giant axe," Trevor snorted.

"Please. I'm way smarter than that," I said with a smile, pressing the elevator call button. "It would be a hatchet, small enough to carry in the waistband of my pants."

"You wouldn't be an axe murderer than, dumbass," Trevor insisted. "You'd be a hatchet murderer."

"Touché."

Things with Trevor were always like this – easy, relaxed, fun. It was different from my interactions with Kyle in that I never worried about telling Trevor anything, which is why I decided it would be safe to tell him about my attraction to Harvey. All the previous night, all I could think about were Harvey's warm brown eyes and tight, firm arms, even when Kyle pulled me into our bed.

We walked out of the Pearson Hardman building, giving a cheerful nod to Paul the Security Guy, who was always on duty during midday on Thursdays. He responded with a half-hearted wave and a frown.

"What's wrong with Paul?" Trevor asked as we ordered hotdogs at our favorite cart just outside the firm.

"His wife is leaving him," I replied sadly. "For another woman. She's trying to take the kids with her."

"How do you know?"

"He told me. I'm very personable, you know. There's a reason I'm good with interviews."

Trevor snorted, but didn't say anything. We took our hotdogs and found a nearby bench. I just plopped down, but Trev wiped off the seat of the bench with a napkin before sitting his immaculately-suited ass down. I shook my head, unable to believe this was the same kid who used to kick mud in the face of my schoolyard bullies. We sat in silence for a few minutes, before I said:

"So…what do you know about Harvey Specter?"

"Besides the fact that he's a giant prick?" Trevor spat. "Not much. He's a Senior Partner and only, like, 40, which is way the hell young for Pearson Hardman." He frowned. "Why?"

I blushed and looked down at my hotdog, toying with the foil it was wrapped in. "No reason," I muttered. "Just, you know. Wondering."

"You met him, didn't you?" Trevor said with a slow grin. "And you think he's sexy."

"Do not!" I objected, feeling like a twelve-year-old again.

"Do so!" Trevor said back, just as childishly. He smiled like a devious kid who just found out a blackmail-worthy secret. Which this wasn't. It was okay to find yourself (deeply, horribly, imagine-your-boyfriend-is-him-while-having-sex) attracted to someone. Everyone fantasizes. Totally. "Mike and Harvey, sitting in a tree!"

"Oh, shut up!" I groaned. "You're horrible!"

"Doing something they shouldn't be!" he continued.

"Trevor!"

"It starts with an S, and ends with an X!"

"I'm never speaking to you again. Ever. Ever."

"Oh my gosh , it must be-"

I slapped my hand over his mouth, but even through my thin veil of disdain and embarrassment I couldn't repress a chuckle. "You're an asshole," I laughed. "And disgusting!" I cried, tearing my hand away from his mouth when he ran his tongue across my palm.

"You love me," Trevor said. "But, anyways, speaking of attraction…You remember that one girl, Jenny McCarthy."

"Of course. I'm pretty sure you liked to say she had, 'tits like an apple,' or something along those lines."

Trevor, mouth full of hotdog, punched me in the shoulder and continued, "You're a bitch. Well, Tits Like An Apple Facebook'ed me the other day. She wants to meet up for drinks."

"Didn't she tell you never to speak to her again after you asked her to blow you at a football game?" I asked.

"Um…yeah." Jenny, captain of the cheer squad, had been flirting with Trevor after a game senior year. Thinking he was so cool and suave he could convince even straight-A, Bible loving Jenny McCarthy to do anything he wanted, he said something lewd about her on her knees under the bleachers. She had slapped him so hard I was sure the handprint wouldn't go away ever. Trevor shuddered at the memory. "But I didn't look her up, man! She approached me. We're going out Saturday night."

"Cool," I said. "But back to Harvey. What should I do?"

"What do you mean, what should you do?"

"Well, it's like…I'm with Kyle. We are in a committed relationship, right? But all night, I was having these crazy, wild fantasies about Harvey, even when we were having sex."

I thought Trevor's eyes were going to bug out of his head when he almost screeched, "You had sex with Harvey Specter?"

"No, you moron!" I cried, whacking him over the head. "I fantasized about having sex with Harvey while I was actually having sex with Kyle."

Trevor was silent, his eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights at a point over my shoulder.

"Trevor? I need your advice, man. I mean, it's not like Kyle and I are in love, or whatever, but I'm still his boyfriend and I think I should respect that. Besides, it's not like Specter made a move on me, or whatever. I mean, I think he was sort of flirting with me." Trevor stayed silent, eyes fixed behind me. Irritation prickled my skin. "Dude, what are you looking at – oh."

I cut myself off, cheeks blazing with color, because standing behind me was none other than Harvey Specter, one expertly groom brow quirked in what could only be described as a leering manner as he smirked that horrible, delicious smirk down at us.