Mike didn't mean to do it. He really didn't. It was just one of those things that happen sometimes, when you're drunk and silly and jealous at 3am. Seems like a good idea at the time. And then you wake up, and remember, and wonder what the hell you were thinking.

"Wake up, sleepy," Harvey was hanging over Mike, a gentle hand mussing through his hair. His breath smelt like coffee and the tangy spearmint toothpaste they used. Mike opened one eye and smiled softly at Harvey, who was millimetres away from him.

"Personal space," he murmured. Harvey tsked and kissed his nose.

"Have you seen my Barons shirt?" he asked. "I'm going to the gym."

"No," Mike's mouth says, before Mike's mind catches up with the events of the previous night. "Maybe it's in the laundry," he said quickly and he could feel his face flushing slightly.

"Alright, I'll wear this one," Harvey said with a shrug, leaning down and kissing Mike's nose again. Mike groaned and nudged him with a gentle hand. "You smell like an alcoholic."

"You were the one who said I should get in with my colleagues," Mike groaned, trying to pull a pillow over his face. Harvey chuckled and stopped him.

"You were cute when you came in last night," Harvey mused. "Kept falling over and saying ssh to yourself, like you hadn't already woken me up."

"Oh, yeah," Mike chuckled. "I'm an idiot."

"No," Harvey said. "Adorable. And when you were trying to find your toothbrush and I had to-"

"I need to tell you something," Mike interrupts suddenly, unable to keep it up any longer. If he owns up now, it won't really be a lie. If he lets Harvey leave, and sits on it all day, it will be. And honesty was number one in their relationship - how else can you give yourself completely to someone?

Harvey narrows his eyes. Surely not. Surely they have been over this enough-

"It's not what you're thinking," Mike says, seeing Harvey go from zero to sixty. He visibly relaxed and sat down on the bed, gesturing for Mike to continue. Mike takes a deep breath. "You know...you know the other day? When I came to the gym with you?"

"Yeah," Harvey says, confused. Where is this going? Mike looks so worried that he can't help reaching for his hand and taking it in his. He lifts it to his lips and kisses it softly. "What about it?"

"You were wearing your Barons shirt," Mike explains quietly, and he's blushing a deep shade of red. Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"Okay," Harvey prompts when Mike falls silent. Mike chews on his lip, unable to say it. Harvey knows what he needs. When he has something to say, Mike can get a little stuck. Orders helped him. "Tell me. Now."

"All these...men. Guys. They were looking at you," Mike said quietly. "And I heard these two saying how they wanted to...wanted you to...have sex with them whilst wearing it."

Harvey tries to stop the grin from dancing on his lips. Mike is cute when he's jealous. It's cute how he didn't say that they wanted Harvey to fuck them.

"Well they can think that if they want, Mike," Harvey says when he has schooled his expression. "The only boy I'm ever going to be interested in fucking, shirt or no shirt, is right in front of me."

"See...er...that's the thing," Mike manages. "It will have to be no shirt. Because. Er. Well. Last night when I got back the shirt was just...on the counter. And I got to thinking about what they were saying, and you see I was drunk so not thinking straight, yeah, so I -"

"What did you do to my shirt?" Harvey growls, the penny dropping. Mike's hands fly up to cover his face, thinking that Harvey is furious with him. To be honest, Harvey is torn between mild annoyance and extreme amusement. It's just a shirt, after all. His favourite shirt. But still. The fact that Mike was jealous enough to take action pleases him more than the shirt ever could. Sometimes he forgot that jealousy was a two way street in a dom/sub relationship; it was reassuring for his ego to know that Mike was just as possessive as him.

"I...Harvey," Mike whines as Harvey suddenly reaches out, snags his wrist and hauls him bodily over his knees. Harvey is wearing his jogging bottoms, but no shirt, and his abs press into Mike's side. Mike always wakes up with a semi, and the bodily contact isn't helping.

Harvey shimmies Mike's underpants down and off, revealing Mike's pale ass. He smacks it, hard, watches in satisfaction as a pink mark appears. Mike squeaks but he can tell that Harvey isn't really mad. This isn't quite punishment. Punishment always starts with long lecturing and blah blah tell me what you did wrong blah blah.

"Tell me what you did to my shirt," Harvey growls in Mike's ear and he smacks him again, on the other cheek. Mike tries not to moan.

"I cut it up, Harvey," Mike whimpers. "I got the kitchen scissors and I cut it up."

Harvey bits down on his lip to stifle the giggle that wants to burst from his lips. The little brat cut up his shirt. Cut it up!
"Say that again, Mike?" Harvey says, bringing his hand down hand across the middle of Mike's ass. Mike grinds against him urgently.

"I got the kitchen scissors and I cut up your shirt," Mike says, having the good graces to sound sheepish.

Harvey smacks him on his right thigh, hard, a real swat this time. A warning.

"Sir," Mike splutters, remembers.

"Good boy," Harvey says, drawing his fingers along the mark on Mike's thigh. He presses down gently on Mike's back and begins to spank his ass, not too hard, but not lightly either. He brings his hand up to half height, making sure to flick his wrist as he connects for the satisfying sound of skin on skin. Mike's ass turns red under Harvey's insistent swatting and he's wriggling around, enjoying the light sting and the feeling of Harvey's arousal against his own.

I wish all spankings were like this he thinks, as Harvey rubs his hand over Mike's hot, red skin. Mike stifles a moan, again.

"You're a very naughty boy," Harvey says with a heavy swat. "What are you, Mike?"

"A very naughty boy, sir," Mike says quickly, compliant because he's so horny and this is so hot and he doesn't know how much more he can take. And because, he is a naughty boy. He cut up Harvey's shirt.

"The only reason you're not getting my belt is because I understand what it's like to be possessive," Harvey said, continuing to smack Mike's butt, a little harder now. Mike whines. "But if you ever, and I mean ever," - Harvey punctuated his words with hard slaps to Mike's thighs which made tears spring to his eyes - "Cut up my clothes again, I will shove the remnants in your mouth and whip you good, got it?"

"Was that supposed to be a threat?" Mike asked cheekily, sensing the mood was playful.. Harvey, albeit a stern dom when he needed to be, was also a huge softy when it came to Mike's feelings for him. Sure, he would punish Mike forever if he did something dangerous or stupid, but if he did something because he was jealous...well, that was sort of okay. Sort of.

Harvey growled and lunged for the hairbrush on the bedside cabinet. Without skipping a beat, he began bringing the brush down hard on Mike's sit spots. Mike sqwuaked.

"No - no!" he yelped as the stinging swats rained down on him. "I got it, sir, I GOT IT I WON'T CUT UP YOUR CLOOOOTHES!"

"Good boy," Harvey grinned, laying the brush down. He runs his hand over Mike's ass, which is warm but only a pale pink apart from the deeper red hair brush marks. Mike wriggles it slightly, bending his head round and smirking at Harvey.

"Do you forgive me?" Mike asked tentatively, blushing slightly. "I don't know what came over me."

"Always," Harvey said, his eyes twinkling. He guided Mike up so he was sitting on his knee, and kissed him. "I'm yours, that's what came over you."

"You are," Mike beamed, tangling his fingers in Harvey's hair. "Mine."

"Mmhmm, now seeing as I can't go to the gym without my shirt, I think we need to find another form of cardio for me-"

"I have a suggestion," Mike grinned.