Mike is about two seconds away from buying Harvey a fucking chapstick.

The smug bastard seems to know exactly what he's doing as well which makes it all the more worse.

This whole thing, the being obsessed with Harvey Specter's tongue thing, started about three weeks ago when Mike suddenly realised that Harvey licks his lips. A lot. And not in a normal way either, lips clamped tightly together as his tongue darts out and then back in again quickly, and sometimes he follows that up with dragging his teeth over his lower lip and honest to God, Mike's about had enough of it.

Harvey's a good looking guy (ok so he's gorgeous), Mike's known that since the minute Harvey made him sit down and spill his entire life story after throwing pot all over the hotel suite. He's commanding and has a presence and his suits fit him so perfectly that it leaves almost nothing to the imagination. (Not that Mike's got a problem with his imagination anyway). So yeah, Harvey's good looking, but Mike's never thought that he would have a recurring guest starring role in his late night fantasies until he started noticing the lip licking thing.

But notice he had.

And from then on everything had just gone to hell.

In a fucking handcart.

"Haven't we talked about this, kid?" Harvey asks with a raised eyebrow as Mike barges into Harvey's office, surprised at actually being let passed by Donna, and the words on his lips, the argument or snarky remark, dies as Harvey takes a sip from his coffee and licks at his lips, his eyes closing briefly as he drags his teeth over his lower lip to catch a drop of coffee.

"Uh…" Mike says, and actually to be honest he's kind of pleased with himself that he's able to make any noise that doesn't sound like a cheesy porno groan. Harvey raises an eyebrow again and stands, straightens out his vest, his shirt stretched across the tops of his (probably, not that Mike's thought about his arms) well tone arms.

"I see you bought your brain to work with you this morning," Harvey says, without a hint of sarcasm and taps Mike on the forehead with an immaculate finger. Mike snaps out of it, shakes himself and there's a hint of something other than sarcasm in Harvey's eyes, "So I assume you have a decent reason for barging in here? Are the other kids being mean to you?" Harvey says and Mike hears Donna snort, the noise tinny over the intercom and he spares her a glance before turning back to Harvey and holding out the folder in his hands.

"I do love the child analogy. I like it better than the puppy one," he says and Harvey twists his lips together like he's trying not to smile.

"I'll keep that in mind. That the Baker brief?" He doesn't wait for an answer and pulls the folder from Mike's hands, opens it and turns back to the window. "Hmmm," there's that pleased noise that Mike likes to get from Harvey and he resists the urge to preen as Harvey turns back to him. "Good," he graces Mike with a small smile and licks his lips again and Mike feels his stomach flip. "Now I assume you have other stuff to do? You better have considering the amount I pay you," Harvey sits back down in his chair, crosses one leg over the other and looks expectantly at Mike. Not before he licks his lips again and Mike feels his blood rush south.

"Right…uh…I'll…"

Mike rushes out but manages to catch the smirk on Harvey's now glistening lips.

From then on Mike gets to thinking that Harvey's doing it on purpose. When Mike's in the middle of an explanation of something, Harvey will lick his lips and there will be a twist of a smirk on his lips when Mike finally gets back on track.

Or when he's talking to a client and Harvey will stand behind the client and dart his tongue out with an amused look on his face and Mike will stumble over words, add in far too many "uh" and "um".

"I'm screwed," Mike lowers his head to his desk, muttering the words under his breath and he feels a warmth waft over the back of his neck.

"No, but I'm sure we can arrange something, kid," all Mike wants to do is jerk away from Harvey, but he's pretty sure if he does that he'll crack Harvey in the nose with the back of his head so he just stays still, Harvey's hand against his shoulder and his fingers dig in slightly and then he feels Harvey pull away and he can move again.

"You didn't use puppy," Mike says and Harvey rolls his eyes.

"We don't all have your memory, but I can remember most things Puppy," Harvey replies with an innocent smile that completely contradicts the knowing gleam in his eyes. "By the way…why are you screwed?" Harvey perches himself on the edge of Mike's desk, glares at a passing Associate and looks back down at Mike. His arms are crossed over his chest, "couldn't possibly be anything to do with the fact I wanted you in my office ten minutes ago could it?"

Mike's totally going to replay a few choice words of that sentence in his head later I wanted you in my office, maybe leave of the –ed but right now he remembers that yes, Harvey did actually want him in his office, for purely profession reasons, ten minutes ago and he's been sitting at his desk trying to will his half hard dick back into submission for the past half an hour. It's ridiculous really, its only one simple action, something that every body does without thinking, yet every time Harvey does it, it drives Mike crazy.

He's honestly trying desperately hard to ignore it, it wouldn't be the first time Mike had a crush on his boss (but that was years ago and the guy was a jerk, who spun Mike around), but this is Harvey, Harvey who, Mike likes to think in his more romantic moments, saved him. Harvey who Mike owes a hell of a lot more too than just a misplaced crush. Harvey who keeps popping up in Mike's fantasies at the end of a long day.

Damn him.

"I'm taking your silence as an apology," Harvey says, squinting down at Mike like he's trying to figure out what's going through Mike's mind. To be honest he's surprised Harvey hasn't figured it out yet, being a self confessed expert at reading people. But Mike's secret seems safe so far, even though Harvey does look at him with barely contained amusement sometimes. Harvey licks his lips and raises an eyebrow expectantly.

"Sorry," Mike apologises automatically and Harvey rubs his lips together and nods once.

"Good," he says and his lips look a little swollen now, red and wet, like he's been kissing someone.

Oh great, now Mike's thinking about Harvey kissing him.

Fuck.

"You seem a little distracted, Rookie, you might want to sort that out," he pauses to lick his lips, "before someone gets the wrong idea and sorts it out for you," he says and Mike glances up at him. He may not be as good at reading people as Harvey is but he's definitely seeing something on Harvey's face that isn't just annoyance at his Associate being a bumbling fool and Mike swallows hard.

"Right, sorting…ok," he mutters and Harvey pats his shoulder and it might just be Mike's imagination that Harvey's fingers slide across his neck as he pulls his hand away.

Mike wants to trace the veins on the back of Harvey's hands with his fingers. He's never noticed them before but now Harvey is staring in his fantasies on a nightly basis, Mike's starting to notice things about the guy that are far too attractive for his own good.

The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he lets go enough to properly smile are more than likely responsible for Mike loosing his train of thought on more than one occasion.

Now his hands are beginning to draw Mike's attention. And they're expertly manicured, to the point that they don't look it, although Mike's pretty sure Harvey actually does get manicures, they're too immaculate not be to taken care of. They're large though, and Mike is starting to wonder how hot his palms would be spread out across Mike's ribs.

And then of course there's the whole lip licking thing, which has gotten worse, not better. And before he was only half sure, now he's one hundred per cent positive that Harvey's doing it on purpose. Nobody needs to lick their lips that often unless they have a serious problem.

And Mike's the one with a problem, remember?

"Urgh, fuck off and die," he moans at the smirking Harvey in the head.

"Well that's not very nice," Rachel says, crossing her arms and leaning against Mike's cubicle with an amused smile.

"Not you," he says and Rachel's smile gets wider.

"Harvey?"

"How did you guess?" Mike groans, lowering his head back onto his desk. Rachel reaches into his cubicle and ruffles his hair.

"What's he done now?"

"He needs a fucking chapstick," he mutters and lifts his head to catch the bemused look on Rachel's face.

"Is that some kind of innuendo or…"

"No…he really needs one…before he kills me," Rachel screws up her face in confusion, wrinkling her nose in a way that would make Mike swoon if he wasn't currently obsessing over Harvey Specter's mouth.

"Ok, I'm going to pretend I have a clue as to what you're talking about, smile and go back to work," she smiles and spins on her heel, waltzes out in the way that makes more than one Associate stare at her ass.

He wants to talk to someone about it, but he doesn't think "hey Grammy, I think Harvey's trying to kill me by licking his lips" would go down particularly well. He's not speaking to Jenny, or Trevor. Rachel would probably tell Donna. And as for talking to Donna, "Donna, does Harvey have a problem or is he trying to drive me slowly crazy?" Yeah he could just imagine Donna telling Harvey and them laughing at his expense, the poor puppy who wants to hump his master's leg.

So he ignores it, for the most part, spends more often than not staring at whatever paper is in his hand, anything other than looking at Harvey's mouth. Because when he does, he stares, and may or may not drool, and Harvey smirks, and then Mike has to go home and jerk off in the shower. Yes, he's that pathetic.

"Problem, Rookie?" Harvey asks during one such staring session and Mike blinks a couple of times before saying…

"I think you need a chapstick," Harvey raises an eyebrow, his face slipping from professional to amused in two seconds flat.

"I can think of better way to keep my lips…moist," he says, and licks them meaningfully, staring straight at Mike. Mike swallows and Harvey's eyes slip to his throat. He's standing too close, within touching distance but he still takes a step forward and Mike resists the urge to lean into him.

"I think chapstick would be best," Mike says, proud that his voice doesn't come out as a squeak and Harvey lets out a small laugh.

"Really? Pity," Harvey steps away and Mike feels like he can breathe properly. "So if you've finished giving me make-up tips Princess, can we get on with real work?" Harvey shoves (places elegantly) his hands into his pockets and looks expectantly at Mike. Mike fumbles with the papers for a few seconds before he's back on track and definitely not thinking about Harvey leaving smears of chapstick across his skin.

"So, I've been wondering," Harvey says, wandering into his office and throwing a pile of files onto Mike's lap, Mike lets out an "oompf" and pointedly ignores the way Harvey licks his lips, "what flavour would you suggest?"

"Flavour what?" Mike asks absently, flicking through the files and mentally estimating how many hours its going to take to go through all of them and if he could get a pizza half way through.

"Chapstick," Harvey replies, hands in his pockets, he cocks his head to the side as Mike chokes, "I hear cherry is nice, although that might taint everything I put into my mouth," he says looking down at Mike with a heated gaze, "so maybe I just go with original."

Mike is not thinking about kissing Harvey and tasting cherry. Nope. Not at all.

"Original," he squeaks, yes he actually squeaks this time and Harvey bites on his bottom lip, his nostrils twitching like he finds all of this highly amusing when actually Mike just wants the earth to swallow him whole.

Mike runs a finger around his collar, feels his face flame and he's out of Harvey's office clutching the files and ignoring Donna's knowing look before Harvey can laugh at him.

"Softens and seals in moisture with an icy cool feel," Mike nearly drops the coffee that Donna balanced on top of the files to take into Harvey.

"Sorry what?" he says, rescuing the paper cup from impending doom and ignoring the pointed eye roll from Harvey. He hands the cup to Harvey and tries not to notice the way Harvey's fingers linger against his own.

"I'm choosing chapstick," he says and Mike has to bite on his own tongue to stop the moan that threatens to escape.

"And what…" Mike's voice sounds like something out of Alvin and The Chipmunks so he stops and clears his throat, "and what flavour is that?" he finishes sounding more like the profession pervert that he is. Harvey looks back at his computer and takes a sip of coffee, swiping his tongue over his lower lip.

"Peppermint," he says and Mike sits down heavily in the chair in front of Harvey's desk. "You ok? You've gone very flushed," Harvey cocks his head to the side again and darts his tongue out and Mike looses all coherent thought.

"You know," Harvey says conversationally, causing Mike to drag his eyes away from Harvey's mouth, up to his eyes that sparkle with a smirk, "one might take your staring the wrong way, unless of course that's exactly how one is meant to take it?"

"I…" Mike says succinctly.

"Come along Rookie, we've established that my time is money," he stands and walks around his desk, looming over Mike like the shark that he is, "so…do you or do you not keep staring at my mouth?" To make a point he licks his lips and Mike swallows and feels his legs fall open. Harvey takes a step forward.

"I'll take your silence as assent," he says and Mike can't drag his eyes away from Harvey's mouth. "Right, so, there are two options now," Harvey says, lifting his hand and pressing his thumb into the curve under Mike's mouth, "is it because you have the attention span of a dead mosquito or because you're wondering how it would feel for me to kiss you?"

"I'm wondering if you're trying to kill me," Mike mutters, staring up at Harvey as Harvey slides his thumb across Mike's bottom lip. Harvey hums quietly, slides his fingers back along Mike's jaw and runs his thumb over Mike's cheekbone.

"It's possible, but what a way to go, right?" Harvey says, running his hand through Mike's hair and gripping at the back, his tugs gently, pulling Mike's head back enough to bare his throat. Harvey leans forward and Mike can smell peppermint as he leans down and slides his lips across the thudding pulse in Mike's neck then blows a stream of air on to the skin. It feels cold and Mike can't help but shudder.

"I see you already chose peppermint?" Mike says when Harvey pulls away enough that he can speak. Harvey nods and Mike rubs at the tingling spot on his neck.

"Although I'm thinking cherry for when you beg me to kiss you," he says as he phone rings and waves Mike out as he lifts the handset and Mike stumbles over his feet inelegantly.

It doesn't make any sense but Mike's pretty convinced that he can still feel Harvey's peppermint chapstick tingling against his pulse for the next three days. And he's also pretty sure that was Harvey's intention.

All he wants to do is march into Harvey's office, get on his knees and beg Harvey to kiss him with cherry Chapstick on, hot and messy so that every time Mike licks his own lips he can taste it.

However work has other plans for him.

It swamps him and he has no time to think about anything other than bylaws and depos and briefs and by the end of the week his eyes are stinging with lack of sleep, his heart is palpitating with too much Red Bull and Harvey and the rest of Pearson Hardman is intent on driving him to an early grave. By 7.30 pm Harvey has swanned off home, leaving a pile of work on his desk with a post-it on the top, bring this to my apartment when you're done, I might make it worth your while.

Mike can't deny the girly flip his stomach does as he finishes up and shoves the files into his messenger bag.

He's jumping on the balls of his feet when he knocks on the door and about ready to burst with apprehension when Harvey finally pulls the door open. And Mike pretty glad he's got the files in his hands to stop himself from reaching out and running his fingers through Harvey's hair.

He's obviously had a shower, there's no gel in his hair and a lock is falling over his forehead, still damp and even from this distance Mike can smell his shampoo. Harvey licks at his lips and holds his hand out expectantly.

"The files Mike," he says and Mike hands them over, manages to get a decent look at the apartment as Harvey turns and places the files somewhere behind the door. When he straightens Mike snaps his eyes back to Harvey who's smirking slightly. Harvey crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. "I don't recall there being anything else," he says, "so I might just…go to bed," he licks his lips again and Mike gives up all pretence he's been carrying since he first noticed Harvey's mouth.

"Oh Jesus Christ, would you just kiss me?" he breathes out and Harvey's smirks widens.

"I don't think that's begging, rookie," he says, but reaches out and curls his fingers around Mike's tie, tugs gently and Mike crosses the threshold, tries to ignore the way his stomach bottoms out like he's entering some evil villains lair.

Harvey's got him pressed up against the wall in no time, pressing himself from chest to chest with Mike and trapping Mike's arms above his head.

"Beg," Harvey mutters, nudging gently at Mike's nose with his own and Mike arches his hips upwards. "Uh-uh, Rookie, not until you beg," he says, stepping away enough that Mike can't get the friction he wants against his (surprisingly) already half hard dick.

"Jesus," Mike mutters, and Harvey squeezes his hand tighter around Mike's wrists as he steps closer again, his lips hovering over Mike's. Mike can smell cherry. "Fuck…please," he says and Harvey darts his tongue out, licks at Mike's lips.

"Please what?" Somewhere in the back of Mike's head there's a voice telling him this is all a game, some kind of test, but he really can't bring himself to care when Harvey presses forward a little bit more, his thigh sliding between Mike's.

"Kiss me," he sighs and Harvey uses his free hand, the one not curled tightly around Mike's wrists, to press a thumb under Mike's chin, tilting his head back.

"That sounds like a demand Michael, not a plea," he says and Mike groans, bites back another curse.

"Please Harvey, please kiss me," Harvey hums, slides his hand into Mike's hair and tugs his head forward.

"Good boy," he says before covering Mike's lips with his own.

And there it is, what Mike's been thinking, dreaming, about for weeks, Harvey's kissing him, licking into his mouth and he tastes like cherry and whiskey and Mike groans into his mouth as Harvey presses his thigh upwards into Mike's crotch.

Mike wants to touch him, wants to run his hands over Harvey's chest and find out if it's as firm as he's imagined but Harvey's grip against his wrists is strong, almost bruising and Mike whines into Harvey's mouth as he tugs against his hold.

"Not enough?" Harvey asks, pulling back enough to speak against Mike's lips, and he lets go of Mike's hair and pushes his hand into Mike's pants. Mike practically bites through his bottom lip, tastes cherry as he bucks up into Harvey's strong grip on his dick. "How's that?" Harvey asks, twisting his hand and Mike shudders, tugs against Harvey's hold on his hands again.

"Let me…" Mike stutters out, stopping when Harvey swipes his thumb nail over the slit in the head of Mike's dick. Given the limited room in Mike's pants right now, he's pretty impressed at the hand acrobatics Harvey's performing down there.

"Let you what Mike?" He says, rubbing his own erection into Mike's thigh and Mike's pleased that Harvey feels as hard as he does right now.

"Let me touch you," he asks, pleads, begs, whatever and Harvey lets out a small chuckle, twisting his hand again and Mike lets his head fall back against the wall.

"No, not yet, I want you to come like this, helpless with nothing but my hand on you," Harvey says into his ear, his tone dark and almost menacing.

"Fuck," Mike groans as Harvey runs his tongue along on the shell of Mike's ear.

"Later," Harvey practically purrs, "now though…now you're going to come Mike, icome/i," he says and Mike does just that, twitching, bucking his dick hard into Harvey's fist and coming over his hand (and Mike's own pants).

When he can see straight, it might be a few seconds, it might be hours, Harvey's just that good, Mike opens the eyes he doesn't remember closing and comes face to face with smug Harvey, smirking at him like he just won a bet.

"Without your inability to speak up about what you want," he says, conversationally, like he's not rock solid against Mike's thigh, like he's not pulling his come covered hand out of Mike's pants and lifting it to his lips. He darts his tongue out, licks delicately at his fingers and lets out a satisfied "hmm", the kind he would use if Mike did a good job finding a loophole, "we could have been doing that weeks ago," he continues, wiping his hand across Mike's thigh. How he can be this coherent with a raging hard on Mike has no idea but he's kind of loving it, especially when he reaches out and drags Mike forward, smashing their hips together and grinding down once and Mike feels his dick twitch valiantly in his pants. "As it is," Harvey continues, letting Mike go but grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around, pushing him gently down the corridor, "we just going to have to make up for lost time…I might even blow you," Mike nearly trips over his own feet and manages to catch the blinding smirk on Harvey's face.

"Can you wear the peppermint chapstick," he asks and Harvey laughs, cups his face in his hands and kisses him again, only a faint hint of cherry flavouring his lips now.

"If you behave."

There is going to be a follow up to this so watch this space.