Possession: 5. Due Diligence

 

The Patrick Center was a half hour’s bike ride to a rundown, poor part of town. Mike’s ass hurt both from Harvey’s hard spanking hand and his equally hard cock, and he pedalled most of it on the balls of his feet, so his ass didn’t have to make contact with the bike’s saddle.

 

“Damn you, Harvey. You knew it’d hurt like hell to ride my bike after all that fucking and spanking,” he grumbled as he cycled, certain that Harvey not only knew and didn’t care, but probably also liked the idea.

 

The Patrick Center was a newish looking building surrounded by railings, with a brightly painted mural on the outside.

 

Mike eyed his bike nervously – if he locked it up against the railings, he had a suspicion that he’d come out to find both the bike and the railings gone. It was that shady an area.

 

“You worried it’ll get stolen?” a voice called out to him.

 

He glanced up and saw a big, black woman, probably in her sixties, coming out of the center. She was wearing a bright tent of a dress and there was a colourful turban wrapped around her head. She was, in all senses of the phrase, larger than life.

 

“I am kinda.” Mike made a face.

 

“Well, it won’t.”

 

“How do I know that?”

 

“Because Bertha says so!” She gave a deep laugh that he recognised immediately from Harvey’s answering machine. “Ain’t nobody gonna steal anything from my Center, or they know they’ll answer to me.”

 

“You’re Bertha?”

 

“I am. Bertha Matthews – in person. And you are?”

 

“Uh…Mike…Mike Ross.” He held out his hand, wondering what the hell he was going to say to her now that he was here.

 

“Oh, so you’re Mike Ross.” She looked him up and down, a big grin on her face.

 

“Wait, you’ve heard of me?”

 

“I sure have, hon! Hell, I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have a whiter, skinnier ass than Harvey, but it seems like he found someone who does!” She gave another warm laugh, pumping his hand heartily at the same time.

 

“Harvey talked about me?” Mike felt confused.

 

“Yeah. First time I ever heard him talk about a guy from work like they were a friend and not someone he was doing battle with. I’m pleased to see you, Mike. Did Harvey send you over to check up on how I spent his donation?”

 

“Something like that, yes.” Mike remembered what Harvey had said about how he habitually lied to make his life easier, but he decided that now was not a good time to work on that particular bad habit.

 

“Well, you tell him he needs to get his ass down here to see it for himself. We don’t see him often enough, and I miss mussing with that slicked down hair of his.”

 

“You muss with Harvey’s hair, and you’re still alive?” Mike gazed at her, awe-struck. “You either have a death wish, or you know him really well.”

 

She laughed again. “Oh, I know Harvey Specter well, for sure. I’ve known him since he was a skinny little kid running around this neighbourhood like he wanted to beat it into submission or get the hell out of it, and he wasn’t sure which.”

 

“Harvey grew up around here?” Mike glanced around at the graffiti covered walls, broken windows and filthy street.

 

“He didn’t tell you? Yeah. He grew up here. Of all the kids I’ve helped over the years, I knew he was the one who’d do something to make us all sit up and take notice. I thought he’d either end up doing life in jail, or get filthy rich. I’m glad he went for getting rich!”

 

“You thought Harvey might end up in jail?” Mike asked, shocked.

 

“Back when he was a kid, he was a little…wayward.” She grinned. “But that’s what we’re here for. That’s what the Patrick Center does. Now, it wasn’t called that back then, of course. That was two fires and a police raid or three ago.”

 

“What does the Patrick Center do?” Mike asked.

 

“Hell, boy – seems like Harvey didn’t tell you much at all. Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make us a nice cup of coffee, you can spill the beans on what Harvey’s up to these days, and I’ll give you some juicy gossip on what he got up to then – he hates it when I do that!” She laughed. “And riling Harvey is always fun, like mussing with his hair.”

 

Mike stood there, staring at her, wondering what on earth to make of her.

 

“Doesn’t do to let him forget where he came from, or who he is,” Bertha said with a wink. “He comes back here to have me kick his ass around. He knows I won’t take any of that lawyer bullshit from him, and I think he likes that he can always rely on me to tell him the truth.”

 

She clapped a hand on Mike’s shoulder and ushered him into the building. “I’m one of the few people in the world who isn’t taken in by the shiny suits, and the shiny hair, and the shiny car, and the shiny everything. I remember him when he was a snot-nosed kid who thought he could take on the world – but kept getting kicked back by a world that didn’t give a damn.”

 

She took Mike into a little office and filled a kettle with water. Mike glanced around the room, noticing that every square inch of wall space seemed to be filled with photographs of kids, going back years judging by what they were wearing and the faded quality to some of the photos.

 

“So you’re Harvey’s boy?” Bertha mused, glancing at him critically.

 

“Harvey’s boy?” He hated that his body reacted to the phrase, even though he didn’t want it to. He liked being Harvey’s boy, damn it!

 

“Yeah, Jessica mentioned you too.” Bertha shrugged.

 

“Jessica? You know Jessica Pearson?”

 

“I sure do! I’m her aunt.”

 

“Okay.” Mike sat down, trying to get his head around all this. “So…are you how Harvey met Jessica?”

 

“I am.” Bertha nodded proudly. “When Harvey was arrested, I knew I had to get Jessica to take his case. Nobody else would have gotten him off, and it would have broken my heart to see that smart, beautiful boy languish in jail for years on end.”

 

“Harvey was arrested?” Mike stared at her. This entire visit was turning out to be more and more surreal.

 

“Uh-huh. When he was seventeen. He didn’t tell you?” She raised her eyes heavenward. “Well, I guess he doesn’t like people knowing about that part of his life.”

 

“What was he arrested for?”

 

“Murder.”

 

“What!” Mike stood up. “Uh…he was innocent though, right?”

 

“Oh no, he did it.” Bertha poured steaming water into the mugs. “The man he killed was using Patrick as a drug mule – got him chasing all over town taking drugs to his dealers – thought the cops wouldn’t stop and search an innocent looking little kid like Pat.” She pursed her lips together angrily. “Well, Harvey found out and went nuts – he was always so protective of Patrick. He went over there, and this guy pulled a knife, and there was a fight. I’m not sure to this day whether Harvey meant to kill him or not, but Harvey always could handle himself in a fight.”

 

She stood there, looking thoughtful. “It wasn’t Harvey’s knife though. I know that. I always told Harvey that if he ever carried a knife I’d never let him back inside my place again.” She waved her hand around the room. “I know he never broke his word to me on that. He always preferred using his brain first and his fists second anyway. I never knew him to carry a knife.”

 

Mike sat down again, wondering whether even his big brain could process this particular bombshell. He remembered Harvey telling him recently that murder was easier than perjury because nobody was watching, and there had been something about the way he’d said that which had stuck with Mike. He hadn’t known what that was, but now he realised it was because Harvey was talking from personal experience.

 

“Jessica got him off – it was self-defence, or justifiable homicide, or something like that – I’m no good with that legal stuff.” Bertha shook her head. “She told the judge she’d give Harvey a job in the mailroom at her law firm – said she’d keep an eye on him and see that he stayed out of trouble. I had to sweet-talk Jess for days to get her to take on Harvey’s case. Then, once she met him, he won her over with all that Harvey charm, the way I knew he would!”

 

She handed Mike a mug of coffee, and as he took it she saw the blood-stained handkerchief wrapped around his left hand.

 

“Lord, Mike – what have you been doing to yourself?”

 

“It was an accident.” Mike flushed, remembering his fit of temper in the elevator.

 

“Hmmm.” She gave him a look that made it clear she didn’t believe that for a second. “Well, put it here.” She pointed at a space on the desk in front of her. “I’ll clean it up.”

 

“You don’t have to…”

 

“I do this kind of stuff all the time. Put it here,” she said firmly, and Mike obeyed her immediately. He wasn’t surprised Harvey knew how to boss people around so effectively – he’d clearly learned from the best.

 

Bertha got a little bowl of water and set it down on the desk beside his hand. Then she got a first aid box out of her desk drawer. Finally, she sat down, put on her glasses, and opened the handkerchief.

 

“It isn’t too bad. You won’t need stitches; I can patch you up.” She washed away the blood gently and then dried his hand.

 

“So…who is Patrick?” Mike asked quietly as she worked.

 

She pointed at a picture on her desk, one of many, and Mike’s heart thumped as he recognised the boy from the photo in Harvey’s apartment.

 

“Looked like an angel. Swore like a demon, mind.” She picked up the photo and handed it to him. “He was such a sweet kid.”

 

“He’s Harvey’s brother,” Mike said quietly, studying the photo. “And this place is named after him?”

 

“Least I could do, seeing as how Harvey paid for it after the first fire a few years back.” She shrugged.

 

“What kind of work do you do here?”

 

“We try and help the kids. Sometimes, it’s next to useless, but I figure that doesn’t mean we should stop trying. Look, Mike, you seem like a nice boy. I bet you had someone looking out for you when you were a kid, but the kids we help – they don’t.” She waved her hand at the walls. “They don’t have anyone.”

 

Mike glanced around at the pictures of the kids on the walls. “You’ve helped all these kids?”

 

“Well, some of them we didn’t help much at all, and some of ‘em really didn’t want to be helped, although God knows they needed it. We do what we can. Sometimes that’s just to feed them. The kids we see are the ones with the alcoholic dads, or the prostitute, drug addict moms, or the parents who just don’t give a damn.”

 

She put a Band-Aid over Mike’s cut hand and then began tying a bandage around it. “They come here, and what we try to do is re-parent them. We get them to a doctor if they need one, get them represented to authorities and allocated to social workers if it’s required.”

 

“And Harvey came here when he was a kid?” Mike had trouble wrapping his head around the idea of Harvey – he of the shiny suits and ostentatiously expensive tastes – ever being a disadvantaged kid like those lining the walls.

 

Then again…Mike had been wondering what lay beneath the suits of armour, and this seemed like precisely the kind of secret they had been constructed to hide. Who would ever guess that suited, shiny Harvey Specter, of all people, came from this kind of background? Hell, even the apartment made sense now, with its view over the city – visible proof for Harvey that he’d made it out of the ghetto. Then there was his obsession with neatness and order; coming from such a chaotic background that made a kind of sense too.

 

“Yeah – I don’t know that he’d have come for himself, but Patrick was hungry, so he brought him here. That’s how I got to know Harvey.”

 

She finished bandaging his hand. “There you go. All done.”

 

“Thank you.” Mike smiled at her. “So…what was he like back then?” Mike leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees.

 

Bertha gave him a sharp look. “Is Harvey gonna kill me for telling you all this?”

 

“Probably.” Mike grinned. “But he’ll kill me first! Look, Bertha, me and Harvey…we’re close.” He flushed, remembering how very close they’d been just a couple of hours ago on Harvey’s couch. “You said yourself, he talked about me as a friend.” He glowed a little about that.

 

“Yeah, I haven’t heard Harvey talk about anyone that way since he split up with some girl who broke his heart, years ago. He must really like you.”

 

Mike nodded slowly. “I think maybe he does. So…tell me what he was like.”

 

Bertha gave a little chuckle. “Well, he was the same as he is now, I guess, in essence, but a lot less polished and in control of himself. He was a volatile kid. It’s not often you’ll ever see him lose his cool these days, but back then he’d go off on one and hoo boy!” She threw her hands up in the air. “It’d take me hours – days sometimes – to calm him down! He’s always had a passionate heart, but he hides it well now, so people can’t use it to manipulate him. He learned that the hard way, for sure.”

 

Mike remembered what Harvey had said about keeping his emotions under control. That was starting to make a lot of sense in view of what Bertha was telling him.

 

“And he could argue the hind leg off a donkey, that kid!” Bertha continued. “He and I used to have these stand up arguments, and he’d storm off, and I wouldn’t see him for days. But he’d always come back. Maybe for Patrick’s sake, but maybe, also, because I think he needed us too, even though he’ll never admit that, not even now.”

 

“Where were Harvey’s folks?”

 

“I don’t know about his mom – she was never around. But his dad was an alcoholic who drank away any money he earned. Harvey more or less had to raise Patrick himself.”

 

Mike looked at the photo again. Patrick had innocent, guileless eyes, and a sweet, wide smile. A bad feeling crept into the pit of Mike’s stomach.

 

“What happened to Patrick?” he asked quietly. “I figure he’s not still around.”

 

“No.” Bertha shook her head. “He wasn’t strong, like Harvey. He started taking drugs, like a lot of kids around here, and some bad heroin killed him. Harvey loved that kid – he was such a good big brother, always taking care of him and looking out for him. I thought it’d kill him when Pat died. They were so close.” Bertha took a sip of her coffee.

 

“What happened to Harvey then?” Mike prompted.

 

“Well, it was strange. Instead of falling apart, he seemed to turn into a different person, almost overnight. Suddenly he was all about the sharp suits, and the money, and the work, and the cars, and the conquests. He never wanted to come back here. He wanted to leave it all behind. I got in his face about that; man, that was another one of our huge fights!” She gave a soft little laugh of reminiscence.

 

“You won?” Mike watched her face crease into a big, triumphant smile.

 

“Of course I won, boy! I always did – hell, I still do! Harvey always says he never wants to come face to face with me in the courtroom ‘cause I’m the only person who can beat him in an argument! So yeah, he came back. He still does. Not often, but he does. And he always asks me to make sure that nobody finds out about the giant donations he gives us. That boy hates being found out doing anything good!” She gave a cackle of laughter.

 

Mike took a few gulps of his coffee, watching her over the rim as he drank, fascinated by the story he was hearing.

 

“Sometimes, he’ll take me out to one of his fancy restaurants, and I let him show off for all he’s worth because I figure he’s earned it, and because I remember the skinny little kid who sat where you are now and stuffed food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in a week – hell, he probably hadn’t.”

 

“So, he’s one of the good guys?” Mike asked her, finishing the coffee and setting the mug down on the desk.

 

She looked at him sharply. “Mike, as far as I can tell you’ve been working with him for months now, and if you haven’t figured out that he only wants people to think he’s a shit because he doesn’t want them using any of his good points against him, then you’re not as smart as he said you were.”

 

“He said I was smart?” Mike grinned.

 

“Hell yeah! The way he was talking, it was almost like he had the hots for you!” She gave another of her loud, raucous laughs. “But then I guess intelligence is always attractive to Harvey. Also…now, he didn’t tell me your story, but Jessica once hauled him out of a whole heap of trouble, and I got the impression that Harvey might have done something similar for you.”

 

Mike nodded slowly. “He did, Bertha.”

 

“And then probably fobbed you off with some bullshit about how helping you was more of good deal for him than for you!” She grinned and sat back in her chair.

 

“Yeah, that’s about right.” Mike thought he’d found out enough – and far more than he’d been expecting. It had been a morning of surprising revelations. He glanced at his watch and winced; he was beyond late for work – that was if he still had a job. He stood up and held out his hand. “Thanks, Bertha. This has been great, but I gotta go.”

 

“But I haven’t shown you around the place yet!”

 

“I’ll come back another time. Promise. But I’m already really late for work.”

 

She got up and, much to his surprise, wrapped him up in a warm bear hug. He could see how a kid whose mom wasn’t around and whose alcoholic dad didn’t give a damn would enjoy being enveloped in the comfort of Bertha’s enormous bosom. Had Harvey given in and allowed her to cuddle him like this? Mike had a suspicion that he probably had.

 

“You take care of Harvey – but don’t ever let him know that’s what you’re doing!” she said into his neck.

 

“That what you did, Bertha?” he asked, drawing back.

 

“I can be sneaky! Someone had to be on that boy’s side – he was his own worst enemy at times.”

 

Mike deposited a little kiss on Bertha’s cheek. “Thanks, Bertha. For everything.”

 

Then he ran out of the door and back to his bike, which, miraculously, was still there. Or maybe it wasn’t such a miracle; Mike doubted many kids would risk Bertha Matthews’s ire by stealing from her place.

 

He unlocked his bike and swung himself onto the saddle – and then yelped as his sore ass made itself felt again.

 

“Damn you again for that, Harvey,” he growled, but he felt a little frisson of arousal as he remembered how good it had been getting his ass to feel this way.

 

His cell phone rang, and he yanked it out of his jacket pocket and answered it while cycling.

 

“You’re late, and I don’t care what kind of hissy fit you’re having, Mike, but as of right now you still work for me, so get your ass into the office.”

 

Harvey ended the call before Mike could even squeeze out a reply. He rolled his eyes as he jammed the phone back into his pocket. That was so very…Harvey.

 

He glanced at his watch again. He was due in that meeting with Harvey and Louis in an hour, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do yet. He was still reeling from what Bertha had told him.

 

So, Harvey had killed someone once? Given the circumstances, Harvey’s age at the time, and the fact it had clearly been in self-defence, Mike wasn’t concerned about that. Bertha adored Harvey, and she had known him longer than anyone else. Jessica and Donna both adored him too. They all saw something in him that Mike saw as well. Harvey was more than just the ruthless closer Louis had made him out to be. Mike had always known that; it was just that his own damn trust issues had got in the way of what could have been a good thing.

 

Maybe it wasn’t too late. He did at least still seem to have a job, so Harvey wasn’t firing him. Yet.

 

But what did he want? Was it too late to accept Harvey’s offer? And if he did, could he really stay at Pearson Hardman after the intimacies they’d shared last night?

 

What Harvey had offered him was so big, scary and out of his comfort zone that it both excited and frightened him.

 

So what should he do?

 

He remembered something, and he pulled over to the side of the road, took out his wallet, and searched inside it until he found the card that Harvey had given him earlier; the one to his private elevator. Mike thought about it for a second…and then decided that Harvey was probably going to kill him anyway, so what did it matter?

 

He cycled back to Harvey’s apartment building and found Jeff, who directed him to the elevator that would take him straight up to Harvey’s apartment. The card key worked, and he found himself stepping out into Harvey’s empty apartment a few minutes later.

 

It felt intrusive to be in Harvey’s apartment without Harvey being there. Mike wasn’t sure what he was doing there, what he was looking for, or what he might find here that would help him make up his mind.

 

He glanced around and his eye caught the photo on the bookshelf. He went over to it and picked it up. This Harvey, with his arm slung protectively around Patrick, was the one Bertha had known, and cared for, and rescued. She was right; he could so easily have ended up in jail. Instead, someone had given him a chance, and he’d worked hard to repay them.

 

“Looks like we both had fucked up childhoods,” Mike murmured, still gazing at the photo. What was it Harvey had said last night? There was something in Mike that spoke to something in Harvey, and the other way around too. Now Mike could see that wasn’t just about dominance and submission, and the kinky sex games. It went far deeper.

 

Mike wanted a place to belong, and Harvey wanted someone who belonged to him. They’d both had that once, and they’d both lost it. It had scarred them, but it was part of what drew them to each other, each unconsciously seeking what the other could give.

 

Harvey looked fierce, rebellious and protective of his little brother in the photo. He’d gone, empty-handed, to confront a dangerous drug dealer in order to protect Patrick. Mike knew that if he accepted Harvey’s offer, Harvey would do the same for him.

 

Mike put the photo down and went and picked up the file on the coffee table. He flicked though it, reliving his own life through Harvey’s eyes.

 

Harvey had used what he’d found out about him from this file – but not to screw him over and win his bet with Louis. He’d used it because Harvey, of all people, wasn’t going to be clumsy about tempting Mike into his bed. Of course he’d done his homework.

 

Harvey had planned his seduction the way he planned a court case, not for cynical reasons, but because it was too important for him to screw it up. He’d taken the afternoon off and gone out and bought those steaks, and the collar, and the tie, and the bike stand, and God knows what else. He’d done it because he wanted Mike, and he wanted to impress him, the only way Harvey knew how. Not because he was trying to play him.

 

Mike had always sensed that Harvey had withdrawn from him after the Clifford Danes case because they’d become too close, and it had freaked him out. Hadn’t Harvey himself said that he tried not to get emotional because it clouded his judgement? Bertha had given some insight into why he was that way, and now Mike knew Harvey’s story, it made sense.

 

Then there was the way Harvey had reacted when Louis had tried to steal him, and the look in Harvey’s eyes last night when he’d admitted how that made him feel. Harvey had tried and failed to keep his emotions at bay, but, faced with losing Mike to Louis, had given into them instead, taking a risk and putting his heart on the line in the process.

 

Mike realised, with some astonishment, that this was for real. Harvey had meant every single word of what he’d said last night. He wanted Mike, not for a fling or just one night, but for a real relationship. It was that simple.

 

“What the hell did you expect, Mike?” he chided himself. “Some big, romantic declaration of love? From Harvey of all people?”

 

Mike glanced at the tie lying on the table where he’d flung it earlier and realised Harvey had given him that declaration, in his own Harvey-type way. He’d just been too stupid and too afraid to see it.

 

“Feelings never were your strong suit, Mike,” he sighed. He’d always known that. His brain was able to gobble up information and regurgitate it years later without faltering, but he always felt like he was swimming against the tide in matters of the heart. It had never come easy to him.

 

Mike put his hand up to his neck, remembering how it had felt to wear Harvey’s collar. Harvey had said this tie was his collar substitute – the one he could wear during the day, in place of the one he’d be wearing at night. It proclaimed him as Harvey’s, but only they knew that. It was their secret, one they got to enjoy at work when nobody else would know what that tie really meant.

 

Mike picked up the tie and put it on, fastening it up tight against his neck so he could feel it, the way he could still feel Harvey’s hand prints on his ass.

 

He liked how it felt. He liked the tingle of arousal it gave him. But more than that, he liked how it made him feel he belonged somewhere again.

 

Harvey wanted Mike, and Mike now knew that he wanted Harvey. It really was that simple. Harvey was right; he did always overthink things.

 

Mike didn’t have any more doubts. He ran over to the elevator, went back down to the lobby, and got on his bike again.

 

He cycled as fast as he could. He knew he’d get to work sweaty and dishevelled, and that Harvey hated him looking anything less than well groomed, but maybe Harvey had decided he didn’t even want him now anyway, after the way he’d stormed out this morning.

 

He remembered throwing Harvey’s tie on the table, rejecting the collar-substitute and the man who’d given it to him, and he groaned.

 

“Damn it, Mike, when you screw up, you really fucking screw up.”

 

Then Mike remembered the way Harvey’s gaze had raked over his naked body this morning, and he had a hunch that Harvey wasn’t going to be done with him that easily.

 

He walked confidently into Pearson Hardman twenty minutes later. He was Harvey’s sub. Harvey’s boy. He wore Harvey’s tie around his neck. This was who he was. He knew that now.

 

He walked up to Donna’s desk, and she glanced up and shook her head at him disapprovingly. “You’re late. No, you’re beyond late,” she said. “You do know that, right?”

 

“Yup! I know.” Mike smiled at her cheerfully. “I had some research to do. Harvey knows all about it. He told me to do it.”

 

“That would explain why he was pacing around his office looking pissed off all morning then,” Donna said sceptically.

 

“Where is he?” Mike glanced into Harvey’s office to find it empty.

 

“He’s in with Louis. Louis kept calling. Something about a bet, and how the onus is on Harvey to prove his case, so in the event of a no-show Louis wins by default.”

 

“Oh really?” Mike grinned; he was going to enjoy this. “Thanks Donna!”

 

He sauntered down the hallway to Louis’s office and paused outside the door for a second. He could see Harvey inside, his hands resting on Louis’s desk, his shoulders looking tense and strained.

 

“You know the rules, Harvey,” Louis was saying. “You have to prove possession. You haven’t – as I knew you couldn’t. So I get Mike. It’s that simple.”

 

“Oh, I haven’t lost yet, Louis.”

 

“Then where’s Mike? I don’t see him. And it’s now…” Louis checked his watch. “10:03. It would seem, Harvey, that you don’t have possession of Mike Ross, morally, legally, or even physically right now. You don’t know where he is, do you?”

 

“I was doing some research on him,” Mike said, pushing open the door and stepping into the room. “I mean for him.” He grinned. “Like he told me to.”

 

Harvey straightened up and turned…and his gaze immediately went to the tie around Mike’s neck. The tension visibly drained away from him and his shoulders relaxed. He gave Mike a grin that seemed to come straight from his heart and went straight to Mike’s.

 

Louis looked at him sullenly. “Well? Where’s this proof then?” he demanded.

 

Mike put his finger under his collar and loosened it slightly, revealing the top part of the bite mark on the side of his neck, which only Harvey could see from where he was standing. Harvey’s grin widened.

 

“Here.” Mike reached into his bag, pulled out the papers Louis had given him, and tore them up, slowly and deliberately. Then he placed them on the desk in front of Louis. “I’m not for sale, Louis. I belong to Harvey because I want to.”

 

“Oh right. So you’re agreeing with him now? You’ve changed your tune from yesterday! What happened to ‘Nobody owns me’ and ‘I don’t belong to anyone but myself’?” Louis sneered.

 

“I was wrong.” Mike shrugged. “Harvey owns me. I belong to him.” He felt a surge of happiness as he said that; after seventeen years, he finally had somewhere he belonged again.

 

“Do you really want to dispute that, Louis?” Harvey asked, one eyebrow raised. “Mike seems pretty clear on the matter.”

 

Louis opened his mouth, as if to argue, and then closed it and made a face at the pair of them. “Whatever. Mike, I thought you were smarter than that. You’ve just made a big mistake.”

 

“I really don’t think I have,” Mike replied, rubbing that mark on his neck with his index finger. “I think I just made the best decision of my life actually.”

 

“To belong to Harvey? Really? I thought you had better taste. You’ll be his slave forever now – is that really what you want?”

 

Mike laughed out loud. He couldn’t resist meeting Harvey’s gaze to find his eyes sparkling back at him, and he knew they were both remembering what they’d done in the bedroom last night.

 

“Oh yeah! That’s really what I want,” he replied, still laughing.

 

Harvey turned back to Louis. “I won, Louis, fair and square. Mike belongs to me, and if you ever try to set him up, or get him fired, then I promise you that I will resign, and when Jessica comes to try and talk me into coming back, which we both know she will…” He raised his hand to stop Louis’s interruption. “Then the price for my return will be your resignation. So think about that very carefully, Louis.”

 

“Oh please. Like I care. Mike’s just an associate and not even a very good one. Harold’s far better,” Louis snapped.

 

“And if you ever, ever…” Harvey didn’t raise his voice, but Mike felt a chill run down his spine at the tone, “Ask him to do something again without asking me first, then I promise you, Louis, you will regret it. He’s mine. The only way you even get to even speak to him from now on is through me. Clear?”

 

“Clear,” Louis mumbled, looking genuinely shocked by Harvey’s tone.

 

“Good! Then we’re done here. Thanks, Louis. It’s been a pleasure. The best man won, as usual!”

 

Harvey looked insufferably smug as he turned on his heel and swept towards the door. Mike rolled his eyes, but he ran after him anyway.

 

“Oh, one more thing.” Harvey turned and glanced at Louis, and Mike was so close behind that he almost bumped into him. “I had a word with Jessica, and she told me she has no plans to make you senior partner. None. Zero. Zilch. So you might want to re-think that particular ambition of yours, Louis.”

 

He gave a cheery little smile and resumed his swagger out of the office. Mike almost felt sorry for Louis. Almost.

 

He followed Harvey into his office, and Harvey turned and looked at him.

 

“You’re a mess,” he said. Predictably.

 

“I had to cycle fast to get here in time.”

 

“You went to my apartment first.” Harvey’s gaze was fixed on the tie around Mike’s neck.

 

“Obviously. You gave me the elevator pass, remember.”

 

“I do remember. I also remember giving you that tie, which you then threw back in my face.”

 

“I changed my mind.” Mike shrugged.

 

“Why?” Harvey looked intrigued.

 

“Due diligence.” Mike grinned. “I did some of my own.”

 

Harvey frowned. “Meaning?”

 

“Meaning you should check your answering machine messages before you leave for work.”

 

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. Cryptic.”

 

“You’ll figure it out. Later.”

 

“You’re being interesting. I like it.” Harvey gave a delighted grin. Then he saw Mike’s bandaged hand, and he took hold of it and examined it, frowning. “What happened?” he asked. “And does it have anything to do with the cracked elevator mirror in my apartment building that Jeff was complaining about earlier?”

 

Mike sighed. “You’re going to make me pay for it, aren’t you?”

 

“Of course,” Harvey replied sternly. “You’ll apologise to Jeff too, later. He gets very upset when anything is damaged in his building.”

 

“Later?” Mike smiled. “What’s happening later?”

 

“You’re coming around to apologise. It might involve some other, more private humiliations too.” Harvey’s tone held a whole world of promise, and Mike felt his cock perk up at the sound.

 

“Oh…I was thinking…” Mike dropped his voice. “That club you went to…did you have to wear, you know, special clothes?”

 

“Special clothes?” Harvey gave him a hard look.

 

“You know…leather?” Mike raised a curious eyebrow.

 

“You like that idea?” Harvey looked both smug and intrigued at the same time, which Mike thought was a look only Harvey could pull off.

 

“Hell yeah! I bet you looked hot…tight black leather pants…black shirt…” It was all Mike could do not to drool.

 

“Down boy!” Harvey rolled his eyes.

 

“You could give me a private viewing,” Mike suggested.

 

“Maybe. If you beg.”

 

“On my hands and knees,” Mike promised.

 

“That will suit me very nicely,” Harvey said in a satisfied tone. “You know, I think this particular acquisition…” He glanced at the bite mark on Mike’s throat. “Is going to work out really well.”

 

“Acquisition?” Mike pouted. “I thought it was more of a merger.”

 

“I’m really going to have to spank that pout out of you.” Harvey sighed.

 

“Aw, I don’t think you will. I think it turns you on too much. That and my infamous puppy dog eyes.” Mike turned his mournful, big-eyed look on, and Harvey gave a groan and swatted his ass. Mike found himself giggling, and he wished they weren’t in the office. Still, they had later.

 

“Hey, I noticed you don’t have the Star Trek reboot movie in your DVD collection,” he said. “I’ll go buy it and bring it along this evening. You can make dinner again; you’re really good at that.”

 

“I don’t have it in my collection because it is a sacrilege. An abomination,” Harvey told him in a tone of outrage. “There can be only one Kirk. There can be only one Spock. To suggest otherwise is heresy.”

 

“There can be only one?” Mike rolled his eyes. “That’s Highlander. Great movie.”

 

“Highlander. Great movie.”

 

They both said it at the same time and then gazed at each other with expressions of frank lust.

 

“See, your trouble is you’re too set in your ways,” Mike said. “Your apartment is too neat, your hair is too neat – hell, your entire life is too neat. You need someone to mix it up for you and introduce a note of chaos and disorder.”

 

“And that would be you?” Harvey drawled incredulously. “The scared puppy from last night?”

 

“That was last night. Tonight I’ll be a puppy who wants to play. Hard.”

 

“Oh, that sounds even more interesting.” Harvey moved a step closer, and his hand brushed the spot on Mike’s thigh right over the bite mark they both knew was there. Mike shivered. “Oh good. I like that my pup still remembers who owns him,” Harvey purred into Mike’s ear.

 

“I’ll never forget that, sir,” Mike said, in a shaky undertone.

 

“Good boy.” Harvey’s breath was warm against Mike’s ear. He drew back. “The Star Trek reboot?” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yeah. I haven’t seen it, but Trevor and Jenny said it was good.”

 

Harvey frowned. “I really don’t know I’d trust the word of your previous paramours.”

 

“Trevor wasn’t…oh never mind!” Mike rolled his eyes. “You really get jealous, don’t you?”

 

“I really do,” Harvey affirmed. “Okay, Pup.” He sighed. “Bring the damn DVD round. I promise I’ll watch it, although I don’t promise I’ll enjoy it.”

 

“You will,” Mike told him confidently. “And if you can explain to me why Captain Kirk is the man without sounding like a complete nerd, I might even sleep with you tonight.”

 

Harvey laughed out loud. “Oh really? Dangerous talk, Pup; I think you’re forgetting who you belong to.”

 

Mike touched the tie Harvey had given him. “No,” he said quietly. “I know exactly where I belong now, Harvey.”

 

“Possession…” Harvey reached out, brushed Mike’s fingers aside, and tightened the tie firmly around Mike’s throat. Mike knew it wasn’t because the tie needed adjusting so much as Harvey wanting to remind him that he was wearing his de facto collar.

 

Mike knew that Harvey’s hands could kill, caress, hurt, and protect, but he also knew they’d only ever take good care of him. He smiled and leaned into Harvey’s hands, trusting them always to catch him.

 

“Possessed,” he said happily.

 

The End