Work Text:
Mike sings, everywhere. In the shower. In the elevator on the way up to the apartment. In the goddamn kitchen whilst Harvey’s trying to work.
Harvey’s never really noticed how quiet his life was until Mike came into it. And it makes sense really, that Mike fills his life with noise, because Mike came into his life singing, sung his way into Harvey’s quietly ordered life.
Mike’s still not sure what he’s going to do with his life, now that he has choices, but Harvey knows whatever he does, he’ll use that stupidly impressive brain to blow everyone away. He gets a job in a local coffee shop to pas the time, to think about his life and how to live it, and wows the customers with his pretty face and easy smile.
He comes home to Harvey, signs his way around the apartment, kisses Harvey and tastes like coffee.
It didn’t take Harvey long to realise he was well and truly done for when it came to the wily street kid who he swooped up into his life, and now he’s realised it, come to terms with it, he’s content for the first time in his life.
“Hello dear, how was your day?” Mike asks, craning his head back around over the top of the couch to watch as Harvey walks through the apartment and shucks his jacket off. Harvey lets out a small laugh, presses a kiss to Mike’s forehead.
“Well I’m still the best closer,” he says and Mike grins, climbs on top of Harvey’s lap as soon as Harvey sits down.
“There was never any doubt in my mind,” Mike says, small hands cupped around Harvey’s face. “Guess what?”
“The moon landing was faked,” Harvey replies and is rewarded with one of Mike’s grins. Harvey runs a hand down his spine, revelling in the way Mike moves under his touch.
“No,” Mike lets go of his face and pulls at Harvey’s tie. No matter how many times Harvey’s told him not to pull it, it snags the silk, Mike still does it, bites on his bottom lip as he does it and snakes it free from around Harvey’s neck, “I got a job today.” Mike’s smile is brilliant, hopeful, pleased, a little embarrassed and he lets out a squeak as Harvey spins them suddenly and presses Mike into the couch.
“You did?” Mike wraps his legs around Harvey’s waist.
“I did,” he hums as Harvey runs his nose along the side of Mike’s neck. The kid smells maddeningly good all of the time.
“Doing what?” Harvey asks, licks across Mike’s pulse.
“It’s not much…but it’s a start, I…” Harvey lifts his head and puts a stop to Mike’s words with one look.
“Doing what Mike?”
“Proof reading…for a small independent publishing house,” Mike’s skin flushes, whether because he thinks it’s not good enough for Harvey, or because Harvey chooses that moment to drive his hips down to Mike’s, Harvey’s not sure. But something blooms in his chest, something like pride for the street kid who got given a second chance and took it. Something like love for the kid who’s invaded Harvey’s life with noise and disorder.
“That’s great,” Harvey answers and Mike grins again, runs his hands through Harvey’s hair, fingers snagging on the hard gel. Harvey’s chest feels tight as Mike works his hands down Harvey’s back, up under his shirt, hot palms against his ribs.
“It is?” Mike asks, and God, yes it’s great. Everything’s great.
“Yeah…it really is.”