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kathierif_ficTitle: Secret Weapon
Fandom: Suits
Pairing: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter (pre-slash)
Rating: FRT-13
Prompt: exposure on kink_bingo
Disclaimer: All not mine, or I wouldn’t remain so curious about a certain household item…
Summary: Harvey Specter was not a happy man when he had to change out of his suit, but a new discovery quickly changed his mood. 966 words.
Harvey Specter was not a happy man.
He sighed as he glanced down at his chest, where a big coffee strain told the story of an unfortunate run-in with a potential client.
The suit was ruined, the shirt underneath probably as well, and he could count himself lucky that this particular individual preferred their coffee luke-warm and not scalding hot.
Still, the feeling of wet, sticky fabric, even if it was high-quality like his shirt, against his skin was more than uncomfortable.
He stopped at the elevator and pressed the call button. By the time the doors opened, Mike had dared coming closer again.
His associate had been slinking after him ever since the meeting had been interrupted, but Mike hadn't quite worked up the courage to address him, undoubtedly out of fear of Harvey's wrath. Harvey snorted inaudibly. The kid had no sense of self-preservation to speak of, and thinking that Mike was afraid of Harvey’s moods was ridiculous.
He suppressed a sigh and plucked with pointed fingers at his shirt. Donna knew a good drycleaner, and with any luck, the suit wouldn't be completely ruined. It would be a tragedy; the suit was almost new. René would have a heart attack if he saw this. Harvey himself would probably get one if he took a closer look at the damage while thinking about the amount of money he’d paid for the suit.
"All right," he said and stared at the top of Mike's head. "As soon as we get back to the office, I want you to look into her company's records."
Mike nodded. "What am I looking for?" he asked.
Harvey rolled his eyes. "Everything. Anything we can use," he answered.
For a split second, Mike looked as if he wanted to argue, but then, he simply snapped his mouth shut and nodded.
Harvey closed his eyes for a second. There was definitely a lot of potential in Mike.
When the elevator stopped at the right floor, Harvey didn't wait for Mike to catch up with him as he strode into his apartment. He left the door open, in case Mike actually made it that far before Harvey had changed into clean, dry clothes, and disappeared into his bedroom.
They didn't have much time. Harvey had a meeting with another client in an hour, and there were piles of research to be done by Mike.
Harvey hurriedly took off his soiled clothes and put on a clean, charcoal grey suit. He slipped into a fresh, crisp shirt, but left it half-unbuttoned.
There wasn't time to get properly dressed now. He could do that in the car. It wasn't as if it was the first time, and Ray wouldn't bat an eye at Harvey finishing to knot his tie while they were discussing music, even if he would never breathe a word to anyone about that.
What he hadn't expected was Mike staring at the open collar of his shirt as if Harvey had suddenly grown a third arm.
Self-consciously, he tugged at a sleeve. "What?"
Mike was still staring. His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip quickly, and a slight flush had started to spread across his cheeks.
"It's nothing," he finally muttered and reached up, to rub at his eyes. "It's just..." He glanced down, at his shoes, and shrugged awkwardly. "I guess I didn't expect you..." he shrugged again, embarrassed now. "I can see your throat," he then helplessly stuttered.
"So?" Harvey gave him a long look. Mike was acting weird - weirder than usual. He had blushed a bright shade of red, and he was still licking his lips and swallowing reflexively. The knuckles of his fingers on his ridiculous bag were white from the strength he used, but Harvey didn’t really understand why Mike was acting this way. This wasn’t the first time Mike had seen his throat, of all things. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Harvey out of his suit. There had been other times, days when they both had worked late or Mike had shown up unexpectedly in his apartment in the middle of the night.
He’d never reacted with this blatant staring and fidgeting. And, Harvey realized that wasn’t all.
Mike was also holding his ridiculous bag strategically in front of him.
Harvey felt a small smirk forming at the corners of his mouth. Deliberately, he reached up and ran a finger along the sharp edge of a collarbone, barely hidden by the soft folds of his open shirt.
Mike yelped.
Harvey's grin widened, but he pretended he hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary. As far as Mike was concerned, he hadn't - he was Harvey Specter, after all, if Mike thought that people regularly swooned at the sight of his throat, he wouldn't contradict him.
"Come on," he said and ushered Mike out of his place, into the elevator, and then back in the car, where he proceeded to button up his shirt and knot his tie, while at the same time pretending he hadn't realized that Mike was watching him.
Watching his throat.
While still holding his bag over his lap.
Harvey grinned, his bad mood almost forgotten.
There had to be a way how he could take advantage of Mike's fixation, he thought amusedly, a way to use it - a way that could work out for both of them.
However, there was no need to use this particular weapon in his arsenal before he had to. He didn’t want to dull Mike’s reaction to the sight and, with a small smile that bordered on evilly teasing, he closed the buttons of his shirt and knotted his tie, pulling it to rest perfectly against the hollow of his throat.
His secret weapon.
This was going to be fun.
~end.
Fandom: Suits
Pairing: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter (pre-slash)
Rating: FRT-13
Prompt: exposure on kink_bingo
Disclaimer: All not mine, or I wouldn’t remain so curious about a certain household item…
Summary: Harvey Specter was not a happy man when he had to change out of his suit, but a new discovery quickly changed his mood. 966 words.
Harvey Specter was not a happy man.
He sighed as he glanced down at his chest, where a big coffee strain told the story of an unfortunate run-in with a potential client.
The suit was ruined, the shirt underneath probably as well, and he could count himself lucky that this particular individual preferred their coffee luke-warm and not scalding hot.
Still, the feeling of wet, sticky fabric, even if it was high-quality like his shirt, against his skin was more than uncomfortable.
He stopped at the elevator and pressed the call button. By the time the doors opened, Mike had dared coming closer again.
His associate had been slinking after him ever since the meeting had been interrupted, but Mike hadn't quite worked up the courage to address him, undoubtedly out of fear of Harvey's wrath. Harvey snorted inaudibly. The kid had no sense of self-preservation to speak of, and thinking that Mike was afraid of Harvey’s moods was ridiculous.
He suppressed a sigh and plucked with pointed fingers at his shirt. Donna knew a good drycleaner, and with any luck, the suit wouldn't be completely ruined. It would be a tragedy; the suit was almost new. René would have a heart attack if he saw this. Harvey himself would probably get one if he took a closer look at the damage while thinking about the amount of money he’d paid for the suit.
"All right," he said and stared at the top of Mike's head. "As soon as we get back to the office, I want you to look into her company's records."
Mike nodded. "What am I looking for?" he asked.
Harvey rolled his eyes. "Everything. Anything we can use," he answered.
For a split second, Mike looked as if he wanted to argue, but then, he simply snapped his mouth shut and nodded.
Harvey closed his eyes for a second. There was definitely a lot of potential in Mike.
When the elevator stopped at the right floor, Harvey didn't wait for Mike to catch up with him as he strode into his apartment. He left the door open, in case Mike actually made it that far before Harvey had changed into clean, dry clothes, and disappeared into his bedroom.
They didn't have much time. Harvey had a meeting with another client in an hour, and there were piles of research to be done by Mike.
Harvey hurriedly took off his soiled clothes and put on a clean, charcoal grey suit. He slipped into a fresh, crisp shirt, but left it half-unbuttoned.
There wasn't time to get properly dressed now. He could do that in the car. It wasn't as if it was the first time, and Ray wouldn't bat an eye at Harvey finishing to knot his tie while they were discussing music, even if he would never breathe a word to anyone about that.
What he hadn't expected was Mike staring at the open collar of his shirt as if Harvey had suddenly grown a third arm.
Self-consciously, he tugged at a sleeve. "What?"
Mike was still staring. His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip quickly, and a slight flush had started to spread across his cheeks.
"It's nothing," he finally muttered and reached up, to rub at his eyes. "It's just..." He glanced down, at his shoes, and shrugged awkwardly. "I guess I didn't expect you..." he shrugged again, embarrassed now. "I can see your throat," he then helplessly stuttered.
"So?" Harvey gave him a long look. Mike was acting weird - weirder than usual. He had blushed a bright shade of red, and he was still licking his lips and swallowing reflexively. The knuckles of his fingers on his ridiculous bag were white from the strength he used, but Harvey didn’t really understand why Mike was acting this way. This wasn’t the first time Mike had seen his throat, of all things. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Harvey out of his suit. There had been other times, days when they both had worked late or Mike had shown up unexpectedly in his apartment in the middle of the night.
He’d never reacted with this blatant staring and fidgeting. And, Harvey realized that wasn’t all.
Mike was also holding his ridiculous bag strategically in front of him.
Harvey felt a small smirk forming at the corners of his mouth. Deliberately, he reached up and ran a finger along the sharp edge of a collarbone, barely hidden by the soft folds of his open shirt.
Mike yelped.
Harvey's grin widened, but he pretended he hadn't heard anything out of the ordinary. As far as Mike was concerned, he hadn't - he was Harvey Specter, after all, if Mike thought that people regularly swooned at the sight of his throat, he wouldn't contradict him.
"Come on," he said and ushered Mike out of his place, into the elevator, and then back in the car, where he proceeded to button up his shirt and knot his tie, while at the same time pretending he hadn't realized that Mike was watching him.
Watching his throat.
While still holding his bag over his lap.
Harvey grinned, his bad mood almost forgotten.
There had to be a way how he could take advantage of Mike's fixation, he thought amusedly, a way to use it - a way that could work out for both of them.
However, there was no need to use this particular weapon in his arsenal before he had to. He didn’t want to dull Mike’s reaction to the sight and, with a small smile that bordered on evilly teasing, he closed the buttons of his shirt and knotted his tie, pulling it to rest perfectly against the hollow of his throat.
His secret weapon.
This was going to be fun.
~end.