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Be Thou My Rainbow

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Mike’s day starts off early in the morning with a run in the park, a shower, some hot coffee to go and a bagel. He’s at the office early, eager to get a head start on the day before he has to be in court at 2pm, so he’s buried elbow deep in files when Amy knocks on his door.


He raises his head and frowns. For a second there he thinks he’s seen a flicker in her eyes, something unusual, but after the briefest of moments the impression is gone again. It’s just Amy, smiling at him while she approaches his desk.

“So,” she says with a grin, pulling out the chair and sitting down on the other side of the desk. “They changed counsels. Must be because they’re scared.”

“What?” Mike puts down the pen he’s been holding and leans back in his chair. “And the judge approved it? This short notice?”

Amy nods and Mike pulls up his laptop, setting it down on top of the file he has just been working on. “Who’s the new one then?”

“Harvey Specter,” she replies, wrinkling her nose – and there it is again, that flicker, that irregularity that Mike can’t quite grasp. “They’re going with fucking Harvey Specter.”

Even though Mike knows, just like everybody else in New York does, that Harvey Specter is one of the top attorneys in the city and considered by many the best closer in town, he doesn’t quite understand why his heart seems to miss several beats when Amy says his name. He’s usually not that easily scared, being a competent attorney himself and a junior partner at Bratton Gould with a top Harvard degree and a five year career to show for himself and he knows they have a solid case. But he has just recently been transferred to this department of the firm and he has never met Harvey Specter before, neither in court or at any of the usual social events, so maybe that’s why. And Harvey Specter does have quite the reputation and Mike has heard his name mentioned quite a few times since working in this area of expertise.

“Harvey Specter,” he murmurs under his breath as he opens the eCourts Attorney Search engine and his stomach drops. Something seems to be wrong with the website but he can’t quite put his finger on what exactly that is. They haven’t changed their layout and the fonts are the same as always.

Mike shrugs it off and types Harvey Specter’s name into the search box and when he clicks on the search button and waits for the website to load Harvey Specter’s page, he feels how his hands start to get sweaty.

Harvey’s info pops up along with a photograph of him in a three piece suit, vest and tie and all.

“Well, hello, Mr. Specter of Pearson Specter,” Mike mutters, licking his suddenly rather dry lips. “Now let’s see what else we can find out about you.”

Amy rises and nods down at him. “I’ll give Gretchen a call,” she says. “She works at his firm. Maybe I can dig up some dirt on him.”

“Yeah, sure, as if she ever would tell…,” Mike murmurs absentmindedly, his eyes still fixed on his laptop’s screen. “Whoever he may really be, he’s got a crap taste in ties. There’s something seriously wrong with the one he’s wearing in that picture.”

He finds out quite a lot about Harvey Specter in the next two hours and the sinking feeling in his stomach settles, interrupted by the occasional lurch. Harvey Specter is seriously bad ass and he hasn’t lost a case yet. He had worked as ADA for a couple of years before he started his stellar career at what was then known as Pearson Hardman and became first senior partner and then name partner with only three years in between. His tie, since Mike keeps going back to the page with the picture again and again, continues to disturb Mike and maybe the notion that something is just not right even intensifies over the course of those two hours. He still can’t name it when he closes the laptop’s lid after his research is done, but he thinks it has to do with that particular shade of gray. It somehow doesn’t fit, and Mike is certain that Harvey would be very particular of all of the shades of gray he’s wearing fitting each other to the t.

When Mike climbs into the backseat of his car, ready to leave for the court house and to meet his clients there, he feels less well prepared than he’d have liked to, even though he knows that he has done all the preparation he possibly could have done. His legs feel slightly shaky and his knees a little weak and he hastily loosens his tie once the door has been shut behind him.

On their way through the streets of Manhattan he keeps his look fixed on the partition since the traffic and the shop windows outside seem to be off as well and he wonders briefly if he might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He has been working twelve hour days, seven days a week, for the last few years, sometimes even more, and he can’t deny that he sometimes feels a little exhausted and maybe even a bit hyperaware by now.

He shrugs it off again, though, when the car stops at the steps of the courthouse where Bertie Johnson, owner and CEO of Johnson Consolidated, is already waiting for him, his assistant and his vice president at his side. Maybe Mike should have opted for a second chair but up to now he hadn’t thought that necessary, so he’s flying solo today.

They shake hands, enter the building together and exchange a couple of pleasantries before their conversation reaches the upcoming hearing.

“So, what do we know about that Specter guy,” Bertie asks and Mike’s heart stutters and he has to take a quick, calming breath before he is able to answer.

“He’s a Harvard graduate and name partner at Pearson Specter, a prestigious firm that specializes in corporate law, mergers and bankruptcies, but also handles high-profile divorces. Specter is—“

“Harvey Specter,” a voice behind Mike says, loud and clear and firm, and when Mike turns around he almost bumps into a beautiful young woman, probably Harvey’s associate, and staggers. He suddenly feels dizzy and he needs to grab the banister tightly to keep from falling over and dropping onto his knees.

The first thing he sees when he looks up again are Harvey’s eyes. There are no other words to describe them but incredibly warm. They are brown, but Mike doesn’t know that yet, he doesn’t have the name for that color yet, because he has never seen it before. He gasps, at least he thinks he does, only vaguely registering the group of people surrounding Harvey. His eyes dart back to the young woman and then to Harvey’s face again.

The muscles in Harvey’s jaws clench and unclench and Mike can see how the veins in his temples and at the side of his throat pulse with the rhythm of his heartbeat. Harvey’s eyes bear into his like drills made of liquid glowing steel and Mike has never known that steel could be of such a warm, beautiful color.

He opens his mouth intending to say something, but he finds no words at his disposal. When he turns his head again, his eyes are captured once more by the beautiful woman’s lips. He can only assume that this piercing color is a bright shade of red. It stings his eyes and causes him to blink quickly a couple of times.

“And you must be Mike Ross,” Harvey breaks Mike’s silence, holding out his hand. “Good to meet you.”

Harvey’s hand is warm, almost as warm as his eyes, and his handshake is firm and determined. He clearly is a one hundred percent professional, making Mike feel safe and secure even though he must be able to read Mike’s distress.

Mike nods and bites his lips when he realizes that his eyes are darting back to that mouth, that piercingly bright mouth. It is breathtaking. It takes all the strength Mike can muster to tear his eyes away from it again and to go through the introductions of his and Harvey’s clients and whomever else Harvey has brought to the court house with him.

While they exchange names and pleasantries on their way to the court room in which their hearing is scheduled to take place, Mike’s thoughts run in frantic circles. Why doesn’t anybody say anything? There must be someone else experiencing the same thing right this moment, the overwhelming onslaught of colors, of the world around them and of those glowing brown eyes. Someone else must notice just this moment that there is nothing wrong with Harvey’s tie, nothing at all, quite on the contrary. Someone else has to notice that this man is dressed to perfection and that the moles on his skin match the color of his eyes.

But nothing. There is nothing. Mike has never, not once in his life heard that there has ever been such a thing as a soulmate who doesn’t have a match, he has never heard that this can be non-mutual.

Mike is torn between the breathtaking beauty around him, the bright blinking numbers next to the elevator’s sliding doors, the wildly patterned blouse of that woman quickly walking past him, the scratches in the painted wood of the banister of the stairs they’re walking up, and that sickly feeling that he is utterly alone in this.

His eyes search around frantically, trying to drink in as much of this new world as he can for as long as it lasts, because maybe it doesn’t last when there is no match, maybe everything will fade back into gray again tomorrow, or later today, maybe Harvey’s tie will be off somehow again and maybe the world will be as dull again as it used to be.

They reach the doors to their court room and when they have entered and settled at their respective tables, when they rise for the judge, he turns his head to the side and his and Harvey’s eyes lock.

Harvey nods.

Just once, just barely noticeable, but it is there, and this is the moment Mike knows.

It’s Harvey and he must be experiencing the exact same thing as Mike.

Mike feels his heart swell and his chest suddenly seems too narrow for everything that keeps filling him. He casts another sideway glance at Harvey and Harvey is so beautiful, so bone-shattering beautiful as he stands there, his back straightened and his head held high, his shoulder line, his chest rising and sinking with his steady, yet slightly too deep breathing, and his hands picking up a folder from the table in front of him.

His skin is slightly tanned and his suit really is gray, Mike can see that because that’s a color he has known for all his life, but the most beautiful shade of gray Mike has ever seen, so much brighter than any gray he has ever seen before this moment. Mike watches Harvey talk for quite a long while, opening statements and answering the judge’s questions, before he manages to tear his eyes away from him and let them wander around the courtroom.

There are so many colors, so many different shades and Mike tries to find a name for each and every of them but he can’t. He can’t name any of them and his thoughts fly back to his apartment, to the book at the bottom of his bedside table’s drawer, the book his parents have given to him when he was just a small boy, colors and their names, a book he has heard one needs when this happens, to learn, to explore, and one he has kept in that drawer for all those many years, sometimes opening it with careful fingers, leafing through its pages and comparing gray to gray to gray for hours, his heart fluttering with mind-numbing desire and mad, delirious hope.

He can’t wait to go through it together with Harvey as he knows they will, tonight, tomorrow or maybe in a year.

A part of Mike understands why Harvey acts like this, there are clients present and there is a hearing to be had after all, they are in public and this is something so very private. A part of him understands but another part of him can’t for the life of him figure out how Harvey does it, how he manages to stay so calm and so steadfast when his whole world is being rebuilt from ruins and splinters right this very moment.

“Mr. Ross.”

Something seeps into Mike’s mind, some kind of noise, slowly, like a viscous liquid, and he tries in vain to turn his head into the direction of that noise. They linger on the curtain and on the leaves of the trees in the court house’s backyard.

“Mr. Ross!”

“Ye—“ Mike clears his throat and finally manages to turn around. “Yes, your Honor.”

“Are you all right?”

Is he all right? Mike can’t say but this question makes him think and focus his attention on himself again, and he realizes that there are tears on his cheeks. He wipes them away with the back of his hand, sniffling once, and finally nods.

“Yes, your Honor,” he croaks, trying to keep his face from contorting. “Just my allergies. I am sorry, your Honor.” He reaches for the glass of water in front of him and brings it to his mouth, his eyes glued to the colors of the whole court room reflected on the water’s slightly rippling surface.

He thinks he hasn’t seen anything this beautiful in his entire life, except perhaps for the velvety depths of Harvey’s eyes.

He can’t help the tears running down his cheeks for the remaining part of the hearing and he keeps wiping at them as surreptitiously as he can, even when he delivers his evidence and the arguments for his case. His eyes keep flying back to Harvey and every time they touch him, Mike’s heart swells and a deep, all-consuming joy fills his whole being and settles in its center. For the first time in his life he knows, he knows with a certainty that makes his whole body tremble, that everything will be all right. From now on everything will be all right and that knowledge, that certainty is so overwhelming, so beautiful that it nearly makes Mike choke.

His longing for that man, for Harvey, for his soulmate grows with every passing second until he is so dizzy with it that the room starts spinning, turning the world into a whirlwind of colors with Harvey and Mike at its center.

Mike only barely registers that the hearing comes to an end and he has to look up in the transcripts what exactly went down and how it ended a couple of days later when he’s back at the office and able to think clearly again. When the judge exits and the room behind him starts to empty, Mike quickly shakes his head, tearing himself out of his headspace and back into the other world. He rises and nods at Bertie, picks up his files and turns around – only to find Harvey’s eyes fixed on him.

“Mr. Ross,” Harvey says and Mike wonders once more how he can manage to stay so calm, so composed. “A word.”

Mike nods and crosses the aisle slowly, his breathing quickening and his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He wipes his face once more before he nods but as soon as his and Harvey’s eyes meet, fresh tears roll down his cheeks.


He lowers his gaze again and watches how his hand reaches out, desperate to touch, finally, and then Harvey is taking it in his and giving it a quick, firm squeeze.

“Come to my place as soon as you can,” Harvey murmurs quietly so only Mike can hear him. “Here’s my address.” He hands Mike his card and nods. “Mike.”

“Oh god,” Mike whispers, his breathing hitching, and then he bites his lips lest other sounds or words slip past them.

“I’ll call you on Monday,” Harvey says, nodding towards Mike and Bertie. “So we can wrap things up. Have a good day.” He briskly turns around and walks along the aisle and out of the door.

Mike’s heart aches with longing and the pain intensifies with every step that takes Harvey farther away from him. He can only imagine what it must cost Harvey to actually take those steps.

The way back to the office is a blur, colors racing by outside the windows of his car, beautiful and fast and far too much, and Mike is out of breath and still dazed when he is back at his desk.


Amy sticks her head through his door and he startles when she calls his name.

“You all right?”

His eyes wander up and down her body and when their eyes meet again, he nods.

“Your dress,” he says and his voice sounds a little hoarse, “is that blue?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “It is. Wow, you’re getting really so much better at telling the colors now!”

“No,” Mike says, shaking his head slowly. “I can see it.”

“What?” She freezes for a moment, rooted to the spot half inside and half outside of his office. “You what?” After another short pause she quickly closes the door behind her and rushes to his desk. “Mike, what are you doing here? Why are you not with—Who is it? A waitress? Or a cab driver? It would be so typically you if it were a cab driver!”

Mike shakes his head again. “No. No, it’s not a cab driver.”

“Well, who is it then? Come on, tell me.”

“Harvey Specter,” Mike says and he can feel how his lips curl into a smile and his eyes light up.

“No way!”

“Yeah,” Mike smiles and his stomach lurches. “Way.”

Amy sits down and leans forward. “Come on, tell me everything! How was it? How… How did it feel? You know Harold and I met when I was three years old, I don’t remember much anymore, so tell me!”

Amy’s eagerness makes Mike’s smile broaden and he leans forward as well.

“Overwhelming. It was overwhelming,” he says and looks down at his hands for a moment before letting their eyes meet again. “It is overwhelming.”

“Then what are you doing here, Mike?” Amy asks again, narrowing her eyes. “You should be with him. You should—Go. Mike, go!”

“But I have to—“

“Go, Mike,” she interrupts and rises so quickly she almost knocks over her chair. “The state you’re in… He feels the same, Mike. Go. Go to him. You have to go.”

“Yeah,” Mike finally nods, the world zeroing in on the red cap of a fine liner lying in front of him on his desk. “I—okay.”

“Go!” Amy motions for the door and Mike can feel her eyes on him, he can feel her watching him grab his jacket and briefcase and how his steps get quicker the nearer he gets to the elevators.

He has already sent his driver home for the day so he hails a cab and gives the driver the address written in neat, stylish letters on the back of Harvey’s card. Harvey R. Specter, the front reads and Mike wonders once more what the R. stands for. It wasn’t in any of the documents and articles he found online earlier this day and the thought makes him smile because he knows he will find out now sooner or later.

When the cab pulls up at the curb in front of Harvey’s building Mike is so tense with longing and anticipation he thinks he’s going to burst. He tilts his head back and looks up the high-rise at a clear blue sky with the sun high in it and he wonders how he looks like in color, how Amy and Trevor see him, how his parents have seen him, how Harvey does.

He closes his eyes and recalls Harvey’s image, deep, warm eyes and a gray suit, two moles above his left eyebrow and a warm, beautiful smile.

Harvey lives in the penthouse of course and he must have instructed the doorman in advance because when Mike announces his name, he immediately points to the elevators. His longing grows stronger with every foot the elevator rises and when he is standing in front of Harvey’s door, his pulse is higher than it has ever been.

Harvey is in rolled-up shirtsleeves when he opens the door, jacket and vest and tie gone, and he looks as distressed as Mike feels. He stares at Mike for a couple of seconds and Mike thinks he might drown in the warm pools of Harvey’s eyes. Then Harvey ushers Mike inside, takes the jacket and the briefcase from his hands, sets them down on the floor and closes the door behind them.

For a moment they just look at each other, letting their eyes drink in the sight they’ve been so hungry for ever since they first met. Mike doesn’t know who moves first but suddenly he finds himself in Harvey’s embrace, his own arms wrapped tightly around Harvey’s torso.

“What took you so long,” Harvey murmurs into Mike’s hair and Mike closes his eyes.

“I don’t know. I…” he whispers, burying his face against Harvey’s shoulder. “I… I just went straight to the office and… I didn’t think, I couldn’t… With everything that had already happened, I… Just to think you’d want me, just to think… I just, I just couldn’t… I just went straight back to the office... I…”

Taking a deep breath, Harvey breaks their embrace and cups Mike’s face with both hands. Mike blushes under Harvey’s intense gaze and lowers his eyes.

“Mike,” Harvey says and brushes his thumb over Mike’s cheek. “Look at me.”

Blinking in wonder, Mike follows Harvey’s request and it feels as if he is on a free fall from the 50th floor when their eyes meet once more.

“You are my soulmate,” Harvey states and his words fill Mike like liquid sunshine. “Believe me, I want you.” He leans in and brushes the gentlest of kisses against Mike’s lips. “Mike.”

Mike closes his eyes and hums, breathing in Harvey’s scent and thinking of the color of his eyes. They stay like that for a while, just their foreheads touching and Harvey’s hands holding Mike’s face, and when they break apart, Mike feels a calmness and a certainty settle inside of him like he has never felt before.

“Come in,” Harvey smiles and guides Mike along the corridor and into the living area with a hand resting on the small of Mike’s back. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?”

“No.” Mike shakes his head, stops and turns around. He pulls Harvey into his arms again and sighs against Harvey’s shoulder. “I’m good.”

They spend the afternoon and the evening in Harvey’s condo, either sitting on the floor by the sofa, Harvey leaning back against it and Mike between his legs, his back against Harvey’s chest and Harvey’s arms slung around him, or spooned up together on the couch, Harvey holding Mike tight and brushing his lips along the hairline at the back of Mike’s neck. They trade stories and touches, their fingertips constantly running over each other’s skin, and every now and then Mike turns around in Harvey’s arms and they kiss, gently and almost chaste at first but as the time passes, their kisses grow deeper, more intense and more passionate.

Mike knows that Harvey wants more, he can tell from the way Harvey’s chest rises and falls and from the hardness pulsing against ass, and he wants more as well but for the moment they are content just to be with each other like this, just to hold each other close.

Mike learns about Harvey’s father, his career and how he died, and Harvey even puts on one of Gordon’s records for Mike to listen to. Harvey tells him about boxing camp and Harvard and how he started as the mailroom boy at the firm that now carries his name. He gushes about music and movies and baseball and René, his masterful tailor, and Mike shares many, many stories from his past as well and Harvey’s arms tighten around him when he tells him about his parents and for the first time since their accident Mike doesn’t feel like the most important part of him is missing.

“They were soulmates, too, you know, my parents,” Mike murmurs and places a soft kiss on Harvey’s lower arm. “And they always told me that I had such beautiful blue eyes and that I’d find someone, too, some day, my soulmate. You.” He reaches for Harvey’s hand and brings it to his mouth. “They were right,” he kisses against Harvey’s knuckles. “I found you.”

“Hmm,” Harvey hums and tightens his hold on Mike for a moment before he lets go of him and climbs over him and off of the sofa. He disappears into his bedroom and returns with a book in his hands. “My father gave that to me after… after my parents separated. It used to be his.” He hands the book to Mike over the backrest of the sofa and Mike, who has sat up while Harvey was gone, takes it from Harvey with a smile on his lips.

It’s the same book he has in his bedside table, only a little more worn, the book on colors and their names. It feels smooth and familiar in his hands and he stares at the whirlwind of colors, the color circle, on its cover for a long moment.

When Harvey slowly walks around the couch and comes to stand in front of Mike, he looks up.

“I…,” Harvey pauses, and Mike is presented with a sight he’d never have thought he’d ever get to see, a slightly sheepish looking Harvey Specter. “I didn’t think I’d need it anymore, I didn’t think this would…” He tilts his head and looks at the book in Mike’s hands, Mike’s eyes following his. “I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, though.”

Mike swallows around a lump in his throat and his eyes prickle when he looks up again and meets Harvey’s gaze.

“Come here,” Mike says and places his hand on the seat right next to him. He scoots closer to Harvey when Harvey sits down and opens the book on both their knees. “I have the same.” He brushes over the colors on the first place gently, tracing the lines and squares with the tips of his fingers. “Where do we start? I mean, there is so much to learn, so much to discover and…” He falls silent, biting his lips.

When Harvey’s arm wraps around Mike, he leans into the touch. Once more, tears fall from his eyes and he brings his hand to his face to wipe them away again, but Harvey’s hand catches his before he can do that.

“Don’t,” Harvey says and places a soft kiss against Mike’s temple. “They are beautiful. It’s a whole new world,” he adds and kisses Mike again. “And you gave it to me. You—“

Harvey is stopped short when Mike turns his head and captures his mouth in a long, lingering kiss. When they break apart again, both their lips taste salty. They leaf through the book together, looking at the colors and saying their names, looking at the drawings and photographs of trees, beaches, flowers, birds and items of clothing and food, until Mike yawns and they settle lying on the sofa again, Harvey spooned up behind Mike, the book right in front of them on the coffee table.

“You do, you know?” He trails a line of kisses along Mike’s neck and inhales deeply. “You do have such beautiful blue eyes…”

Mike swallows. When his eyelids flutter shut he sees Harvey’s eyes again. “Your eyes were the first things I saw,” he whispers and turns around in Harvey’s arms. “The first colors I ever saw. I will never forget that. Never.”

“The first thing I saw,” Harvey says after a short pause, “were your lips. They’re this shade of pink and I…” He turns Mike around and brushes his thumb over Mike’s lips. “I will never forget that either.”

The kiss they share after that leaves them both breathless and fills their hearts with a deep, pulsing longing.

“I want to go see the world with you,” Mike murmurs, pecking Harvey’s lips in between words. “I want to look at everything with you and…”

“I want that, too,” Harvey says. “I always thought they would be a little bit like music, the colors. I somehow always missed seeing them even though I didn’t know… They are nothing like music.”

“No,” Mike replies, pulling Harvey close for another deep, passionate kiss. “They are not. But...”

“We made them,” Harvey says and for a moment Mike doesn’t understand, but then he sees the fire in Harvey’s eyes and nods.

“Yeah. We did…” Mike’s words trail away into another deep kiss and this time Mike lets his fingers run through Harvey’s hair, feeling the soft strands between his fingers and Harvey’s soft moan against his lips. “God, you feel so good,” Mike whispers and breaks the kiss to look at Harvey’s face again and into his eyes.

Harvey smiles. “Do you want something to eat now?”

“Yeah,” Mike smiles back. “I’m actually starving.”

They struggle to their feet and make their way to the kitchen area and all through their meal preparations they are almost constantly touching, a squeeze here, a casual brush there, and when they sit down at the counter to eat what they have prepared, Mike’s right leg is caught between Harvey’s legs and every now and then Harvey rests his hand on Mike’s thigh.

After dinner, they curl up on the couch again, touching and kissing, and after a while Mike leans back a little and props himself up on one elbow, facing Harvey.

“I told Amy,” he says and Harvey leans forward and places a gentle kiss on Mike’s lips. “She was wearing a blue dress today and… and she thought it might have been a cab driver.”

Harvey chuckles and kisses Mike again, a little longer and more lingering this time. “Not a cab driver,” he murmurs and Mike pulls him closer, worming his leg between Harvey’s.

“No,” he breathes into their kiss and a low moan escapes his lips when Harvey’s hand moves to the small of his back, bringing their bodies even closer together.

“No,” Harvey echoes and deepens the kiss. “I told my brother. He called me when I was in the car on my way home.”

“Good,” Mike murmurs and cups the back of Harvey’s head, running his fingers through Harvey’s short, soft strands. “I’m glad that he knows…”

“Yeah…” Harvey rolls his hips and his hardness pulses against Mike’s.

For a long while they continue to kiss and touch, and when Harvey’s hand tugs at Mike’s shirt and finds its way underneath, a warm caress on Mike’s sensitive skin, Mike moans. “I’m glad it is you…” He closes his eyes and relaxes even further into Harvey’s embrace. Harvey’s lips come to rest against his forehead when he lowers his head and Harvey inhales slowly.

“You smell delicious,” Harvey whispers and Mike nods, his hand fisting into the fabric of Harvey’s shirt.

“Yeah…” Mike’s word turns into a yawn he can’t quite suppress and Harvey chuckles again.

“You’re tired?”

“Hmm,” Mike nods. “A bit.”

“Okay, come on then,” Harvey says and makes a movement to sit up, reaching for Mike’s waist just in time before Mike falls off the couch. “Let’s go to bed.”

They shower together and take their time caressing and washing each other’s bodies from head to toe, lathering their skin with soap and gently rinsing it off again. Mike washes Harvey’s cock and makes Harvey hiss and bite his lips with pleasure when he strokes over his slit with his thumb.

Harvey turns Mike around and washes his back and ass, pulls his cheeks apart a little and runs a finger over his hole. He does it again and Mike’s muscles clench when Harvey presses against his entrance a little, just a little, and he has to lean forward and brace himself against the shower’s wall when Harvey grabs hold of his dick and nudges its tip against Mike’s tailbone before running it down his crack agonizingly slowly.

“I can’t wait to have you,” he murmurs, resting his forehead between Mike’s shoulder blades.

“God,” Mike moans and straightens his back. “Me neither…”

When they step out of the shower, Mike yawns again. “This has been such a day,” he blushes, shaking his head. “Sorry…”

“Come here,” Harvey says, pulling Mike into his arms. He holds him close for some moments before he reaches for the towels and they dry each other off, pausing to kiss and caress again and again.

Finally, Mike slips under the covers and into Harvey’s arms and Harvey pulls the covers up, letting Mike settle against his side.

They are both still hard and Mike can feel the heat Harvey is radiating all through his body, his cock nestled against Harvey’s thigh.

“You feel so good,” he yawns and closes his eyes. “So, so good…”

Mike drifts into sleep to the sensation of Harvey’s fingers gently playing with his hair.

When Mike wakes up next, in the wee hours of the morning, his dick still half-hard, Harvey is sound asleep next to him, steadily breathing, and Mike spends a few precious moments just watching Harvey sleep. Harvey’s face is utterly relaxed, his mouth slightly open, and when he stirs Mike can’t help it any longer and reaches out and brushes his knuckles carefully over Harvey’s cheek, the lightest of touches. He lets his fingertips gently run down Harvey’s throat and over his half-exposed chest. When he moves his hand upwards again and circles Harvey’s nipple with his fingertip, Harvey’s hand reaches for his and brings it to Harvey’s mouth.

The kiss Harvey places on Mike’s fingers is as light as a feather. It sends an instant surge of arousal and need through Mike’s whole body and his cock twitches under the covers.

Mike can feel Harvey smile against his knuckles and the next moment Harvey has already pulled Mike on top of him, rolling his hips against Mike’s, sliding their hardening cocks together in a maddeningly languid rhythm.

Harvey’s fingers search for Mike’s cleft and they trace it, slowly, up and down. They stop again at Mike’s entrance and again Harvey presses against it gently, causing Mike’s hips to jerk and his cock slides up against Harvey’s again, painfully hard now, and Mike moans. His lips find Harvey’s and he spreads his legs, straddling Harvey as Harvey deepens the kiss and pushes further against Mike’s entrance until he breaches Mike’s body just with the very tip of his finger.

Mike’s muscles tighten around the gentle invasion and Mike pushes back, greedily trying to draw Harvey further inside.

Harvey plays with Mike’s ass for a while, fingering him, pulling his finger out completely, circling his hole and pushing in again as Mike rolls his hips and slides their cocks together between their bodies.

“Okay,” Harvey withdraws suddenly and gently but firmly pushes Mike away. He rolls to his side and retrieves a tube from his bedside drawer, popping the cap open while he rises to his knees. He sits back on his heels and nudges Mike’s legs apart.

Mike spreads his legs and Harvey settles between them, squeezing some of the clear gel onto his fingers. He smoothes his fingers together, testing the texture, and brings his hand between Mike’s legs.

“Wait,” Mike says and Harvey withdraws his hand again, a slight frown on his face. “I want to see you,” Mike explains and rolls a little to his right, stretching out his arm to switch on the bedside table. “I want to see all of you…” He rolls back onto his back and Harvey shifts a little, reaching between Mike’s legs again.

Their eyes lock for a moment when Harvey looks up, and Mike nods. Harvey takes a shaky breath and spreads the lube over Mike’s hole before he pushes back in with one finger only to withdraw again and coat his fingers with more lubricant. This time he enters Mike with two fingers, slowly pushing in, spreading Mike open with infinite care.

Mike can feel Harvey tremble with the effort to hold back, and the thought that this man, his soulmate, wants him that much, makes Mike arch his back and moan.

“Hold still,” Harvey murmurs and places his other hand onto Mike’s lower belly. “I—“

Mike’s dick twitches again, the tip brushing against the back of Harvey’s hand, and another moan pours from Mike’s lips. “More…” He arches his back again, straining against the weight of Harvey’s hand trying to hold him down, and squeezes his eyes shut tightly when Harvey’s fingers enter him deeper. “Please, more…”

Harvey continues to prepare Mike thoroughly but his movements do speed up a bit when Mike tightens and relaxes his body around Harvey’s fingers and after Harvey has worked Mike open with three of his fingers and Mike feels as if he has never been that open, Harvey withdraws and reaches for the lube again.

“Let me,” Mike says and struggles to sit up. He takes the lube from Harvey’s hands and slicks Harvey’s cock up from the tip to the hilt. He closes his fingers around it and gives it a few firm strokes, savoring the sensation of Harvey’s slick skin sliding against his palm. “God, Harvey…”

Harvey gently bats Mike’s hand away and motions for Mike to lie back again. Mike bends his knees and lets his legs fall slightly open, nodding again when Harvey searches for his eyes.

Harvey positions himself and takes hold of his cock, bringing its tip to Mike’s entrance. When he breaches Mike’s body, Mike moans, his back slightly arching and his fingers fisting into the sheets. He is still impossibly tight but he opens up to Harvey gradually, beautifully, letting Harvey slide into him until he is fully sheathed.

When he is completely buried inside of Mike’s tight heat he stills and looks up.

Mike is panting underneath him and when Mike opens his eyes again and they meet Harvey’s, Mike reaches for the back of Harvey’s neck and pulls him down. He raises his head a little and catches Harvey’s lips in a messy, open mouthed kiss that he has to break when he can feel Harvey swell inside of him, filling him even more.

“Harvey,” he moans against Harvey’s lips, tightening his channel around Harvey.

Harvey kisses him again, claiming his mouth and fucking it with his tongue, and Mike takes it all. He arches his back again and finally, finally Harvey starts to move. He pulls out almost completely and pushes back in, slowly at first and then a little faster, but never too fast, never fast enough, teasing Mike until he is shaking with need, pushing himself and Mike so close to the edge again and again until Mike feels as if he can’t take it a second longer.

Mike’s eyes drink in every shade of Harvey’s colors, his hair, the tan of his skin, the dark pink of his kiss-swollen lips, his hair, his moles, the shadows the bedside lamp casts on his face, his eyes, until Mike is filled to the brim, until there are so many sensations swirling inside of him that he is not sure anymore he is just one person.

“Harvey,” he gasps. “Harvey!”

And then Harvey stills, throbbing inside of Mike, Mike’s hands at the small of Harvey’s back and Harvey’s heartbeat pulsing through Mike’s entire being.

A shiver runs through Harvey and it grips Mike’s body as well. “Mike,” Harvey pants, cupping Mike’s cheek with sticky fingers. “I…”

Mike reaches between them and takes hold of himself, Harvey’s stomach hot and sweaty against his knuckles.


Mike bites his lips so hard he almost tastes blood, fisting himself tightly, and when Harvey’s hips jerk, once, twice and he can feel Harvey first tremble again and twitch inside of him and then pulse and swell until he finally tumbles over the edge and starts to come, Mike throws his head back and comes.

He spills himself between their bodies, his come coating his skin and Harvey’s, and Harvey empties himself inside of Mike, hot and endlessly, both of them constantly moaning and cursing until their climaxes finally ebb.

Harvey stays inside of him until he has gone completely soft and his spent cock slips from Mike’s body of its own accord. He stays on top of Mike until the stickiness between their bodies start to itch and then he rolls off of Mike, catching his breath for some seconds, only to pull Mike close again after a short while.

Harvey nuzzles at Mike’s temple and his fingers trace lazy patterns on Mike’s chest.

“God, Harvey,” Mike breathes, “I…”

“Shhhhh,” Harvey soothes and pulls the covers up over them again. “We can get cleaned up later.”

“Yeah,” Mike whispers. “We have the rest of our lives, right?” He closes his eyes and snuggles up to Harvey even closer.

“Yeah, we do.” Harvey says and kisses Mike’s forehead sleepily. “We do.”