#marveyweek

Your daddy's boring, your daddy sucks

Your daddy's a poes, your daddy's kak!

My daddy will fuck your daddy up!

Of course I have several, I wish I could name them all. But this one had me laughing so hard, I often find myself coming back to it for a pick me up.

Plus who doesn't like the old I woke up married trope? 💋💋

Dearest Marvey Shippers,

to sweeten the hiatus a bit and to tide us all over to the next event hosted here, we have prepared a special treat for you:

Marvey Week Redux!!!

We have set up a queue and will reblog all those lovely posts from all those wonderful Marvey Weeks for your viewing and reading pleasure. You will see oldies and goldies again, and, of course, tons and tons of Marvey goodness. 

The redux will kick off June, 1st, and we’ll reblog about 5 Marvey Week posts per day.

We hope you’ll enjoy this redux and that you join us in the fun and reblog the crap out of everything!!

(If you aren’t in the mood for a tidal wave of Marvey goodness, you might want to blacklist / filter the tags #marveyweekredux and #marveyweek.)

Thank you for all the support and spread the Marvey love!!

We stay, they stay!!

Marvey Week └ July 12th: Day 7 » Free Day

Odyssey AU

It has been ten years since the Trojan War has ended and still Harvey has not returned from the war. Mike is being pressured into remarrying but his love for Harvey is true and he knows in his soul that his husband will return one day to him.

Harvey was cursed by Poseidon to forced away from his home for ten years. He lost his ship, his crew, and then was trapped on an island by a woman determined to keep him for all time. He refused her advances but that did not deter her. She told him he would grow to love her.

It took seven years for her to release him from his imprisonment allowing him, to return home to the love of his life.

Upon his return Harvey learned of Mike’s situation. The suitors all gathering around his beloved husband and pressuring him into another marriage believing him to be dead. Yet Mike ever faithful did his best to keep them at bay but it was only a matter of time. Enraged he did not revealed himself instead plotting away to be rid of them and get revenge upon them. 

When Mike purposed a competition one he knew only Harvey himself could win he took that opportunity.  Harvey disguised himself like a beggar won the competition, killed the suitors, and revealed himself to his beloved.

Their reunion was everything Harvey could have dreamed and he vowed never to leave his side again.

Harvey steps into his apartment, suit jacket draped over the crook of his elbow and loosened tie hanging around his neck.

He notices an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the arm of his lounge chair and hesitates, his senses heightened.

“Mike?” he calls out tentatively, waiting for a response.

“I’m here,” he hears a response, and steps into the apartment more confidently.

His confidence all but disappears once he lays his gaze on Mike, who, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, is standing over his stove making dinner.

“What’s this for?” he asks, trying to keep his tone light.

Mike silently turns to the countertop, the delicious movement of his bare abs captures Harvey’s attention instantly, and pours Harvey a glass of Macallan 25.

Harvey raises his eyebrow and gestures towards the expensive bottle with his chin.

“What’s going on?” he asks again, swirling the scotch in his glass.

Mike rests his elbows on the white granite and leans his weight into them, leaning towards Harvey.

“Just wanted to try to repay you for everything you’ve done for me,” he replies earnestly, turning his attention to pouring himself a glass as well.

“It’s the least I could do, Mike. This place is yours too, until you can find your way back on your feet.”

“Not just for this. For everything over the last 2 years, 6 months,” he inhales and straightens his back,his shoulder muscles rippling with the movement of his chest. “And 4 days.”

“Mike, don’t mention it,” Harvey suddenly finds himself unsure of how to respond, a very unfamiliar feeling for him.

He dips his head and raises his glass, cueing the pair to clink their glasses before each taking a sip of the rich single malt.

Mike turns his attention back to cooking and Harvey stares into his glass, trying to pretend he’s not admiring how ripped Mike’s gotten while they were apart.

“How’s Jessica?” Mike’s voice gets lost in Harvey’s thoughts, and Harvey has to ask him to repeat his question.

“She’s…” Harvey searches his mind for the right word to describe the simultaneous pain and relief his name partner is feeling. He finally settles on the simplest descriptor. “She’s ok. She’s doing ok,”

Mike presses his lips together and nods, unable to say anything else. Harvey says the words Mike needs to hear.

“She knows it’s not your fault, Mike.”

Mike releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Doesn’t change the fact that it is, though,” he responds, his tension evident in his strained tone.

Harvey swallows, feeling his throat constrict around the lump that has formed. He searches for something to say when the familiar soft music playing in the background catches his attention. Mike notices Harvey struggling to place the music, and says it so Harvey doesn’t have to.

“It’s the song on the radio the day I went to prison.“ He tries to sound nonchalant, keeping his eyes fixed on the stove, but Harvey can hear the emotion burning behind the words and the pain the memory causes Mike.

At a loss for words, it’s now Harvey’s turn to be silent. Mike hears him anyway, and turns around, placing a full plate of steak and salad in front of him. And in that instant, it’s just them: Mike and Harvey. Mike’s memory immediately takes him to all the late nights they spent together not unlike this one, reviewing files, frantically calling judges then Donna, then judges again, and of course, coming back to Donna at last. Mike finds himself forgetting his worries about the future in the easy banter they exchange, in the way Harvey’s eyes twinkle wth excitement every time he talks about his newest case, and in the way he feels his skin ignite every time Harvey’s hand casually brushes against him.

Neither of them can believe it’s only been Mike’s second night staying at Harvey’s. They don’t mention it, but the ease at which Mike slipped into Harvey’s life and his routine surprised both of them.

Mike, of course, remembers the first night he was released from prison, the same night he came to stay at Harvey’s, with perfect clarity. He remembers the unfamiliar sensation of warm water hitting his skin in Harvey’s rain shower. He remembers inhaling the delicious scent of Harvey infused in everything; the towels, the sheets, everything. He remembers stepping out of the shower and noticing everything readied for him; luxoriously soft clothes laid out and lights dimmed. He remembers stepping out of the guest bedroom into the hallway and seeing a half-dressed Harvey taking in the skyline, back turned to Mike, holding a glass of Macallan in his hand, and feeling immense gratitude towards him.

The music changes to another recognizable tune, this time sending chills down Harvey’s spine.

“The music. It’s -” Harvey begins once he recognizes the music, but is interrupted by Mike.

“The song playing when you told me I didn’t work for you anymore. Yeah,” Mike finishes, keeping his gaze fixed downwards, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheek.

Harvey buries his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes forcefully with his thumbs. When he looks up, Mike notices his reddened eyes and feels sorry as he realizes how overwhelmed Harvey must feel.

“What a bad memory,” Harvey mumbles, almost to himself, before continuing. “Verbally assaulted by Jessica, then having to face Scottie, and worst of all, having said those things to you..”

Mike takes a deep breath.

“Harvey, don’t - Listen, I don’t mean to make you upset. This is just my personal music collection, it helped me through prison and now, it’s comforting. But I’ll - I’ll change the song,” he offers, then reaches for a sleek black remote behind him to press the button for the next track.

“Remember this?” He smiles at Harvey as the upbeat guitar riff starts.

Harvey looks up at him and grins, the warm, Specter smile Mike has come to know and love.

“Atlantic City,” they chime in unison, then break out into laughter.

Their laughter eventually dies down, but not their happiness. Harvey’s lips remain curled upwards at the memory of their impromptu trip. He meets Mike’s eyes and knows, just knows, he’s thinking of the same memory too.

“I know I couldn’t tell you earlier, but, I’m so glad you’re back mike,” he says with sincerity in his voice.

Mike feigns a gasp, earning an eye roll from Harvey.

“The Great Harvey Specter has emotions?“ Mike asks sarcastically, laughing at the “don’t push it,” he receives in response.

They fall into a comfortable silence then, because nothing between the both of them can ever be uncomfortable. They gaze into each others’ eyes in silence for a long moment, forks dangling in mid air pivoted between their fingers, subconsciously leaning closer towards each other. Mike closes his eyes and lolls his neck down, feeling the heat radiate off Harvey’s body. Suddenly, the warmth he was enjoying disappears, and he looks up disappointedly at Harvey who has stood up to cross the room. Mike sighs, berating himself for believing Harvey has changed to acknowledge his emotions at all. Before mike can complete that thought, Harvey walks back to him, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“I thought that song reminded you of that painful time?” He asks, confused, as Harvey takes his seat opposite the counter, leaning even closer than before.

“While you’re here, everything else is just noise,” Harvey replies in earnest, before closing the distance between them by taking Mike’s lips into his own. He forces Mike to let go of the pain and hurt of the last 2 years and he willingly drinks it in.

As his hands run down Mike’s back, he smooths away creases that weren’t there a year ago and traces the dimpled skin of new scars. When they break away to breathe, Mike rests his head on Harvey’s shoulder as Harvey continues trailing kisses along his neck and ear. A pleasurable shudder travels down Mike’s spine as Harvey nibbles at his ear lobe, forcing his thoughts into words before he can stop himself.

“Butch and Sundance are back baby,” Mike whispers, before they both break into uncontrollable laughter.

Music referenced (in order) :

Way down we go by kaleo

Break the silence by the dig

Marvey Week - Literature Edition: Day Six (July 11th) ↪ On The Road

“Where you headed kid?”

The voice pulls Mike out of his own thoughts, his head jerking up when he realises there’s a car stopped beside him, his arm flopping down uselessly beside him when it finally occurs to him he doesn’t need to hold it up anymore. Mike comes to a halt, his arm heavy and muscles aching after holding it up for so long. He shakes himself enough to refocus on his surroundings, to really take in the person sitting idly in the car, waiting for an answer.

The man seems too good to be true and Mike eyes him cautiously, weighing up his options. Mike wonders what the guy wants with a kid like him, why would someone so obviously well-off, so goddamn good-looking, be offering to pick up a hitch-hiker? It’s been almost a week now since Mike’s showered, let alone worn a clean pair of clothes and the guy staring back at him, one meticulous eyebrow raised in some bizarre mix of amusement and annoyance, is driving what Mike is sure to be the most expensive car he’s ever seen.

“Are you mute or just not quite sure how this whole hitch-hiking thing works?” The voice is rough and silken all at once and it sends a slight shudder down Mike’s spine. “I gotta say, you look like you’ve been at it a while.”

“East.” Mike practically cuts him off, not really in the mood to be dealing with some smartass. “I’m heading east.”

“So Spokane then?”

Yeah, definite smartass. They’re not even 10 miles out of the city, Mike’s sure he could walk there by nightfall. Mike simply rolls his eyes and ignores the smirk growing more prominent on the other man’s features, “New York. I’m heading home to New York.”

“You’re in luck then.”

The passenger side door swings open and for a moment Mike can only stare. He knows he’s looking a gift horse in the mouth, he knows that, and yet he’s still hesitant to get inside the car. Something’s telling him this won’t be an ordinary ride; he doesn’t know what, but he feels as if something’s about to change.

Mike’s not an idiot though and he’s already gotten himself out of more tough situations than he ever counted on, so he slides into the warm interior of the car, the smell of new and clean rushing through his nostrils just as the car roars back to life.

“I’m Harvey.”

“Mike.”

“So where you been Mike?”

“All over. Here and there.”

Harvey grunts in response, sparing Mike a quick glance, “Specific.”

Mike’s had some drivers who are chatty, some who seem like they downright despise his existence despite the fact that they chose to pick him up, some incredibly creepy, and some who are pleasant enough but then happy to sink into silence. Mike never, never, would have picked Harvey for anything but the second option, but apparently the man is a keen talker.

“What have you been looking for then? Chasing a girl or a dream?”

Mike’s surprised to say the least, not many of his rides have asked him that, and definitely not in that way. It’s been mostly vague questions about where’s he’s been and where he’s going and not much more. No one’s been so outright blunt with him before, and the odd thing is, it doesn’t even feel blunt coming from Harvey, just curious and casual.

Mike stares for lack of anything better to do, he can’t seem to form a response in his mouth for quite some time, too unsure of how much he exactly wants to share with this stranger. Harvey just keeps glancing at him, simple and patient, and it’s that easy patience that has Mike cautiously opening his mouth.

“Definitely not a girl.”

It comes out harder and more definite than he intended, outing himself wasn’t really part of his plan (he learnt early on not to let that little fact slip out to just anyone - it had cost him a rather prominent black eye for the first few weeks of his trip), but Harvey doesn’t seem to react at all and Mike can just hope Harvey didn’t quite understand or maybe isn’t a complete homophobe. “Not really a dream either, I just needed to get out of New York. I was kicked out of school, lost my scholarship… I just needed to find something to do with myself.”

“Coming back looking like that, I can’t say it seems like you succeeded.”

Mike looks down at himself, the ratty clothes and the dirty hands, the duffle bag stashed at his feet that contains little more than a few bucks change, a pocket-knife, and old cardigan he won in a game of pool a few nights ago. It was a dirty green colour and much too small for him (considering the girl he’d won it off had to be even smaller than Jenny) but he learnt along the way to take whatever he could get.

“I’ve done alright for myself. I’ve survived. At least I’ve proved to myself I can do that.”

Harvey stares at him so long then that Mike’s slightly concerned they might crash, but just as he opens his mouth to speak again, Harvey turns back to the road.

“How long have you been out here?”

“18 months or so, I’m not exactly sure. What month is it?”

Harvey looks bewildered for a moment but doesn’t take his eyes from the road again.

“November.”

“I thought about as much. I’ve felt the nights getting colder.”

“It’s part of the reason I picked you up. I think you can gather that I don’t normally do this.”

It’s Mike’s turn to stare, eyes boring holes into the side of Harvey’s head, studying the other man.

“No. I figured that.”

Harvey glances at him again quickly, making eye contact for only a few moments before he’s turning back to focus on the road before them.

“What’s the other reason?” Mike knows Harvey has heard him, can tell by the slight tilt of Harvey’s head after Mike has spoken, but he ignores Mike in favour of focusing on their surroundings.

They slow slightly as they approach the outer city limits, lights getting brighter around them, the atmosphere outside slowly coming to life. Harvey still doesn’t speak and Mike sort of wants to push for an answer, but he’s all too aware of the warmth of the car and the fact that Harvey can kick him out whenever he goddamn pleases.

Mike watches the hustle and bustle of the city around them, flying through streets as quick as they can - Mike wonders if Harvey’s as keen to get home as Mike is. Spokane wouldn’t really be all that bad a place to be let out - Mike has no idea if Harvey intends on driving him all the way to New York and there’s definitely worse places Harvey could kick him out, could leave him to find his own way again - like the middle of Montana.

Just as Mike’s opening his mouth to ask, Harvey cuts him off, “So what are you heading home to then?”

“My Grammy."

That’s definitely not the answer Harvey had been expecting judging by the way his head whips around so suddenly to look at Mike.

“What?”

“My grandmother.”

By the time Mike’s finished regaling Harvey the tale of his childhood, the pain of losing his parents so young and the extra stress he placed on his grandmother, the city lights are dying off in the distance behind them, the night air becoming slightly cooler and the road before them that much darker.

The story seemed to appease Harvey somehow and now he just drives silently, the hum of the radio too quiet for Mike to quite make out, and suddenly the silence is overwhelming. It feels suffocating and oppressing, the dark around them looming over Mike and trying to make him panic.

You’d think he’d be over this by now, that after 18 months on the road the dark and the quiet wouldn’t bother him so much anymore, but after the warmth and lightness of Harvey and his chatter, Mike can’t quite settle again.

“So what’s your story then?” Mike’s not expecting much of an answer, most people would tell him to mind his own business, but Harvey flicks him a quick smile and launches into speech once again.

A lawyer. Mike’s not even really surprised. The fancy hair, the fancy suit, the even fancier car… Mike doesn’t know what else he would have ever imagined. Mike almost blurts out that it was his dream to be a lawyer, that he had his heart set of Harvard Law until his best friend persuaded him to fuck it all up. He almost says as much, but the words catch in his throat and Mike’s still not quite ready to admit to all that yet. He’s definitely not ready to admit that maybe it was all his own stupid fault and he needs to stop blaming Trevor for his own mistakes.

His hesitation is obvious, even to his own ears, but Harvey doesn’t ask and for that Mike is thankful. Instead he asks about Harvey’s firm, about the work he does and the clients he helps.

Corporate law. Mike can’t suppress a snort. He should have known.

The conversation carries them over the state line until the other side of Missoula, where conversation cuts off mid-sentence when Harvey pulls over outside some small town’s only motel.

“Okay if we settle down here?”

Piltzville. Population 395. Sounds charming.

“I.. Uh… Sure. I mean…” Mike wishes he’d asked sooner, he wishes he’d asked Harvey to set him down in Missoula, or even back in Spokane - cities are much easier to find shelter in, or find someone to bet against, or sometimes even snatch a free ride. Now he’s going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere once again and it’s his own stupid fault.

“Mike.” Harvey cuts of his rambling, the sudden warmth of a hand against his too cold skin bringing him back to himself, “I meant the both of us. I’m not ditching you.”

I’m not ditching you.

The way Harvey says it makes Mike feel like they’re friends, like Harvey feels responsible for him somehow, and a little tiny part of Mike hates that, but the other part of him, the louder, more relieved part, can’t help but be thankful. He’s silent the whole time Harvey sorts out their room, flirting a little with the girl behind the counter, not for any benefit of his own, but just to make her night. It seems to do some sort of trick though because before Mike can even realise it, he’s being shoved lightly down a hall and towards their motel room.

Mike groans unbidden at the sight of the two double beds waiting for them against the far wall. He doesn’t even hesitate, he wanders in like he owns the place and collapses atop the closest one, burying his head into the pillow, thankful for an actual bed to rest his weary body.

“When was the last time you slept in a place like this?”

Mike rolls over and locks eyes with Harvey where the older man stands, watching Mike at the end of his bed. A wicked smile bubbles out of him and Mike can’t resist “When was the last time you slept in a place like this?”

Harvey grins and rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “Fair point.”

He leaves Mike to his newly-found comfort and pads softly into the bathroom. It isn’t until Mike hears the sudden rush of water from the other side of the door that he realises he gets to have a hot shower. Immediately he regrets collapsing onto the bed and giving Harvey first dibs on the shower, but seeing as the man’s paying for all this, Mike supposes he doesn’t really have much room to talk.

The thought makes Mike’s head spin. He’s still not sure why Harvey is doing all of this, why he picked Mike up in the first place let alone why he’s continuing to look after him at his own expense.

Mike doesn’t trust easily, not after all he’s faced during his time on the road, but there’s something about Harvey that makes Mike let his guard down. He has to actively think about his words and his actions, he has to be careful not to be too trusting, because for some reason it all just comes so naturally with Harvey.

The thrum of the shower in the next room lulls Mike into a light sleep, just dozing on the other side of consciousness until he hears the door to the bathroom open and the soft thud of Harvey’s feet against the wooden floor.

“Shower’s all yours.” The groan Mike lets out is almost orgasmic, but just the mere thought of a hot shower is tempting and perfect and Mike moves towards the bathroom. quicker than he ever thought himself able.

The pounding of hot water against is back brings forth a moan, the pressure perfect even though it’s probably a little weaker than what Harvey is used to. Mike’s gotten used to not shower at all, so the heat against is back is welcome, relaxing his too taut muscles and allowing his brain to switch off for just a little while.

He wants to enjoy the hot water, wants to savour it for all it's worth, but eventually the exhaustion wins out and Mike exits the shower, desperate to just fall into the bed that’s waiting for him. It’s a testament to Mike’s unexplainable and downright insane trust in Harvey that he falls asleep almost as soon as his head touches the pillow, unconcerned with the stranger he’s sharing the room with.

*

The sun is high in the sky when Mike wakes, minute rays of sunlight peaking their way through the gaps in the curtain. Mike’s so warm and content it takes a few moments for his brain to catch up, for him to remember where he is and why, and to notice the fact that he’s completely alone.

Disappointment drops heavy and sudden into his stomach. He should have known Harvey wouldn’t stick around, that he wouldn’t keep Mike around to make sure he got home to New York alright. He knows he’s not anyone’s responsibility and he hates himself slightly for ever believing Harvey would be different. It could be worse though, Mike figures, Harvey could have left him on the side of the road in the middle of the night. At least he got a hot shower and a warm bed out of the whole ordeal.

His thoughts are shattered by the click of the lock and a burst of light invading the room when the door opens, Harvey stepping inside and offering Mike a small smile when he sees the younger man is awake.

“Good, you’re awake. I bought breakfast.” Harvey holds up the brown paper bag Mike hadn’t even noticed he’s holding, the smell of bagels suddenly bombarding his senses and making his mouth water. Mike’s been living off scraps and cheap greasy food, not exactly a sustainable, healthy diet, and the scent of fresh bagels is enough to almost drive him crazy. Not to mention the juice and fresh fruit Harvey produces from another bag Mike didn’t even realise he’d been holding.

They eat breakfast together in almost silence, Mike torn between savouring the taste of his breakfast and scoffing everything down in one go. He hopes he achieves some careful balance between the two. They’re then hitting the road again with little fanfare, quiet efficiency taking over both of their actions. The car is warm and the road is almost empty, and it takes a while for the conversation to start up, the two men apparently happy to settle into silence.

They’re just outside of Bozeman, almost 3 hours later, when the silence becomes repressing instead of relaxing and Mike can’t keep to himself anymore.

“I was going to be a lawyer.”

It wasn’t what he was meant to say, he hadn’t planned on telling Harvey about that just yet, but after a curious glance from the older man urges him to keep talking, Mike can’t seem to make himself stop.

He regales Harvey the full tale of his childhood, of how he only had Grammy and Trevor to stand by him. He talks about how much his Grammy gave up for him, how much he gave up for Trevor, and finally admits that it’s his own damn fault that he got kicked out of school; he really should have learnt to make some better friends.

The conversation stays easy as they travel through the day, Harvey telling his own stories of being a lawyer, of the cases he wins and the clients he hates. They laugh and they joke, and when Harvey not only understands Mike’s movie references, but gives back just as good, Mike can’t help but be impressed. Night falls, the North Dakota state line only 25 miles behind them, and it’s much earlier than the night before when Harvey pulls to a stop in another small town.

Medora, North Dakota. Population 129. These places just keep getting weirder and weirder.

Mike’s not one to complain though. For the second night in a row he has a bed and a blanket, a hot shower, and a somewhat questionable meal, but at least it’s better than not eating at all. The clerk tells them there’s only single rooms available. Mike hears her from where he’s pretending to browse the brochures advertising local parks and attractions and he immediately braces himself for the “Sorry kid, gotta let you go here” speech that he’s heard much too often over the last 18 months. He knows not to take it personally anymore, that he’s lucky some people are kind enough to help him out at all, but for some reason it makes his chest tighten that little bit further knowing that it will come from Harvey.

“It’s okay, we’ll make it work.”

Harvey’s voice sounds distant and obscure, like it’s not actually him speaking, and Mike can’t make sense of the words in his own mind. But suddenly Harvey’s there, rattling a key in front of Mike’s face, beckoning him to follow, “Come on kid.”

Mike follows blindly, not sure of what else he could do.

He stops just inside the door, surveying the room and not exactly sure of what he should be doing. The double bed seems inviting and terrifying all at once, like Mike simultaneously wants to pounce on it and wants to go nowhere near it.

“Uhh… I’ll just…”

Harvey’s eyes are suddenly on him, sharp and calculating, and Mike can just imagine how terrifying they would be to face across the courtroom. He’d fumble in a moment, he knows he would. Mike clears his throat and forces himself to act like this is fine, that he’s not currently a jumbled mess inside especially when he doesn’t know why.

“I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

Harvey rolls his eyes and turns his back towards Mike, the younger man thinking that’s that just when Harvey speaks again, “If you feel safer sleeping on the floor, then by all means, but we’re both adults Mike, we’re quite capable of sharing a bed.”

The bed does look so much more comfortable than the hard wooden floor, there’s no doubt about that at all but still Mike's not sure. He's lying to himself, telling himself it's because Harvey is a stranger, that he can't trust the man, but he knows deep down it's more than that. Mike's problem with sharing a bed with Harvey runs deeper than that.

Harvey's attractive.

Like criminally, dreamily attractive and Mike can't promise himself to behave while he sleeps if they end up sharing the bed.

The angel and the devil sitting on his shoulders go to war, a battle of the wits, trying to be the most persuasive, the most seemingly rational. Mike's not sure which one has won when he finds himself nodding and moving towards one side of the bed.

Harvey doesn't say anything further, just leaves Mike to it and goes to take a shower.

Ultimately Mike decides the bed is worth it, the comfort and warmth of a mattress and a blanket supporting and cocooning him too tempting to resist. He can't have that conversation face-to-face though, he can't look Harvey in the eye and say 'Yes I want to share a bed with you', so instead he chooses to forgo the shower and just head straight to bed.

As Mike strips out of his clothes he thinks about what he's about to do, the possible awkwardness that could occur. Mike doesn't have much with him, he's lost a lot of his belongings along the way, and as a result he now only has little choice for clothing. As much as he doesn't want to, Mike decides to sleep only in his boxer shorts, the rest of his clothes too dirty to inflict on another person.

Mike climbs into bed, the warmth welcoming, and despite his overwhelming desire for a hot shower, he settles quickly, curling up on his side and letting the comfort calm his mind.

The creak of the bathroom door opening stirs him out of his blissed out state, the idea of Harvey curling up in bed behind him suddenly dominating all his thoughts. It's not an unpleasant image and that's the problem. Mike can feel his body becoming increasingly unsettled, a thrumming undercurrent of anxiety rustling just below his skin. He feels on edge and tense and almost like he's just waiting to feel Harvey's body against his own.

He keeps his eyes shut as Harvey wanders around the room, only listening as Harvey does who knows what. Mike hears the rustle of clothing and suddenly tries to imagine what Harvey's wearing. The thought of skin against skin, of Harvey's strong muscles rubbing up against Mike's own lithe frame has him shifting where he lay, unsure of what to do and deciding suddenly that sharing a bed was a monumentally bad idea.

Harvey doesn't say anything as he climbs into bed, just slides in behind Mike, the warmth of his body radiating and almost suffocating and they're not even touching but Mike feels like they're just too close. He shuffles, simultaneously trying to get closer and further away, not sure what exactly he wants but knowing which option will not be welcome.

He tries to ignore the deep, steady breaths behind him, the way he can feel Harvey's body move ever so slightly with each breath. The steady rhythm of the older man's breath begins to relax Mike in turn, letting his body settle and his mind quieten once again. It's just as he's nodding off to sleep, warm and content, that he hears the barest of whispers behind, a quiet "Goodnight Mike" and then Mike's asleep.

*

Waking up the next morning is slow. Mike comes to minute by minute, the warmth of someone sleeping curled up against him threatening to pull him back into sleep, trying its hardest to tempt him into peace for a few more hours. A hot, steady breath tickles the back of his neck and the too long hairs that rest there, warmth pressed against the entirety of his back, a hard cock nestled comfortably against his ass. A

tired haze stays wrapped around Mike's mind, sleep still overpowering and driving his body to work only on instinct. It's that desire to be closer, to touch and be warm, an ache for human connection, that has Mike rocking back even further, destroying any semblance of space between the two bodies. The cock grinds against him in return, a sudden hardness now throbbing between Mike's own legs. He lets slip a moan unbidden, pressing his ass back against the cock that's now steadily rocking against him, his back colliding with the strong, warm chest behind him. The feel of skin on skin is phenomenal, Mike is absolutely beyond words, torn between lust and sleep and still not sure which part to act on.

A light kiss brushes across the back of his neck, just the barest hint of lips, dry against his too warm skin.

Title: Moonshine (the Roaring 20s) Fandom: Suits (TV) Pairing: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter Summary: Harvey's had a long hard day wrangling wannabe mobsters for his bootlegging boss. All he really wants to do is drink away his stress in his brother's sqeakeasy when a one-night stand with the bartenders throws him completely off his axis, pulling him into a world that he ones thought he understood. (Or: just another reason to re-imagine Marvey meeting in a 1920s!AU)

***

Shady drinks. Shady bar. Shady club. Harvey Specter had crawled his way out of his dump, and now he crawled right back. He hasn’t been back here since he left for law school. Nothing’s changed; still the same squeaky red leather couches, the smell of tobacco seeped into the grains of wood, and the jazz band that played every Wednesday evening. Same old speakeasy. It felt like he had gone back in time.

“Need a refill?”

Harvey tore his eyes away from his empty glass. “Uhm yeah, sure, just get me whatever you have.”

He sat on a bar stool mulling over his latest case—bootlegging in this day and age. Who wasn’t making illegal booze during the prohibition? Everyone did it. It wasn’t his first nor would it be his last. That sort of thing came with the territory of who he worked for but it didn’t mean that it got easier. Nowadays, money ranked better than justice.

A tumbler of pale amber moonshine slid in front of him.

“What’s this?” He asked, tapping it with his old glass.

“A little something-something,” the guy behind the counter answered with a smile. He found himself following the man’s jawline to his cheekbones straight up to his eyes. Damn, if it wasn’t the prettiest set of baby blue eyes he’d ever seen.

***

       Day 7 (July 12th) : Free Day

Make sure that your first tag is #marveyweek