Disclaimer: I do not own Suits or any of its characters.

Warning: Mild language.

It's still dark when Mike wakes up, and within seconds, he is alert when he feels the body next to him shift.

Thanking god that he didn't miss his opportunity. Mike slowly slips from the bed, grabbing his pants from off the floor, pulling his cell phone out from the back pocket.

Moving as quietly as he can, Mike feels around until his hands collide with a fine material. Praying the man keeps his wallet in his pants, Mike gropes until his grip finds a square shape.

Pulling the wallet out, Mike fishes out his phone to use its light.

And like that, Mike's world lights up and the numbers before him alieve his head from all his worries.

Name: Harvey E. Spector

Date of birth, driver's license, card numbers…

It is all there and Mike smiles as he memorizes each and every number, knowing that by the afternoon he will have what he needs to take care of her.

Mike nearly screams when his shoulder is suddenly gripped and he is pushed harshly backwards into the hard carpeting.

Staring up into the darkness, he can't see anything, but he feels the sudden grip of a hand against his throat.

"A thief? Really?" Mike can hear the anger in the man's voice and he begins to shake.

Should have knocked him out… I should have…

The wallet is ripped from his hands and the man gets off him.

Suddenly the lights are on and Mike squeezes his eyes shut as the lights burn his corneas.

Again, the man's hands are on him, gripping his hair, forcing his gaze to the angry man before him.

"You waited for me to sleep before deciding to steal from me? You ungrateful piece of shit!"

The man's hair is mussed from sleep, but he holds himself so polished in his anger and Mike can't seem to find his voice or air.

"N-Not-Notta thief-"

"Not a thief?" The man cuts him off angrily. "No, you're a saint that sleeps with men and then takes off with their wallets in the middle of the night."

"N-No-"

Again Mike is interrupted as the man roughly tugs at his hair, and Mike begins to feel desperate when he realizes the man may kill him.

"No!" Mike screeches, shocking the man, and giving Mike time to catch his breath. "I-I was just grabbing the m-money. S-S-Shhh-Shit, I just wanted to get my money and g-go!"

Mike can feel tears gathering at his eyes and he feels actual fear as the man rears back to look him in the eye.

The man continues to frown at him, but his grip has loosened around Mike's throat and Mike can't help but gasp in relief as he moves his body to sit up.

Hoping that his words are going to convince the man, Mike finds himself talking without thought.

"S-Seriously, dude, I just wanted my p-payment and then I was g-gonna g-go. No awk-awkward morning after and all that j-jazz, ya know."

His eyes are pleading with the man before him to believe him, and for a second he thinks that he has convinced the man to let him go.

Instead the man reaches for Mike's phone and before he can blink that man has flipped it open and it pressing keys.

Turning his eyes back to Mike, the man frowns.

"You weren't taking a picture of my information and you made no move to pull the cards out-"

"I-I told you, I-I was just g-gonna g-grab-"

"Grab the money and go." The man interrupts him, his frown still present, but his eyes are bright with some emotion Mike can't identify.

"I watched you." The man states bluntly, almost smirking when he sees Mike's eyes dilate in fear and guilt. "You weren't going for the cash. You looked like you were reading through my wallet. What? Were you hoping to learn my name and blackmail me?"

"N-No!" Mike shot forward, trying to come up with an excuse, but his fear was fucking with his thoughts and everything was becoming garbled.

"No? What else would you need my information for? You can't get anything out of a name and date of birth alone." The man smirks down at him.

Mike moves his mouth. "I-I was just g-grabbing-"

"No you weren't. I don't appreciate being lied to." The older man knits his eyebrows together before another smirk graces his face and Mike feels fear at the man's expression.

"How about we play a game, hmmm?"

Suddenly Mike feels a harsh grip against the back of his head as his hair is tugged violently back and then forward until Mike's face it inches from the man's.

"It's really simple." The man smirks as his breath caresses Mike's lips, and Mike can feel the change in the air and his stomach drops and tightens like he's going to be sick. "How about I beat the living shit out of you until you tell me the truth?"

And like that, Mike feels his head thrust backwards as an intense blow lands into his stomach and his breath is forced out of his lungs.

"Ah!"

Again, his head is tugged forwards and the man glares straight into his eyes.

"So lets try this again: what were you doing with my wallet?" The man growls.

Feeling dizzy, Mike shakes his head, trying to form words. "I-I was just g-gonna g-grab my p-pay-"

Again, pain fills his mind and his stomach caves in as the John's fist punches in with so much force that Mike can't breathe for what feels like a minute and his eyes are burning with tears that are now streaming down his face.

"One more time and then I'm going to go for you face, pretty boy."

His mind isn't working; all he can think about is his Gran and how she wouldn't be able to live without him and his payments.

"I-I just n-need your inf-info-information." Mike frowns as his voice burns his ears and the truth is out before he can stop it. "Just w-wanted the n-numbers, just n-needed them."

The John above him frowns at him. "What information? My name? So you were planning to blackmail me."

"Nooo." Mike feels the plea in his voice. "Just n-need you info-information for some extra cash." Mike winces as the truth comes out, but he can't die and it's the only way he can think to possibly get out of this without becoming a body the police find in a dumpster tomorrow.

Shifting above him, the older man looks him directly in the eyes. "You needed my card numbers and information, but you didn't even bother to take them."

"C-Can't take them, y-you'd notice and cancel them b-be-before the p-payment came through." Mike's voice is scratchy and everything is blurry.

"But you didn't try to write them down or take a picture." The man is starting to get frustrated again, and Mike is worried that he'll start hitting him again.

"I-I don't have to." Mike tries to breathe. "I-I just me-memorized them."

Suddenly, the hand is on his throat again, and Mike begins to panic, wheezing as he tries to beg the man.

"You're telling me that you were going to memorize all my information and numbers? Do you think I'm that stupid? Who sent you? How did you know who I was?"

The man was getting angrier as each word escaped his mouth and in a panic Mike began to chant the only thing he thought could save him.

"H-Harvey E. Spector, date of b-birth: January 2nd, 1972. Driver's Licence ID n-number: 019-345-728. Credit c-c-card, American Ex-ex-press- Centurion, s-s-s-security code: 645-"

Suddenly the grip on his throat is gone and Mike shots up as he gasps for air, trying to pull as much oxygen into his lungs as he can.

Turning his tear-blurred eyes to his assaulter, he sees the man gazing back at him in confusion? No, the emotion is something Mike can't figure out and at the moment his mind is more focused on bringing in oxygen.

"How did you…" The John doesn't finish his sentence before he is moving up to sit in crappy motel across from where Mike is sitting.

It takes Mike a moment to realize that they are both still naked before he shifts to try and put his jeans on.

The John's - Harvey's- glare stops him flat and Mike finds himself sitting awkwardly on the floor; one of his hands covering his penis and balls to keep them covered and warm.

The room is silent for what feels like hours to Mike before the man speaks up.

"Why were you trying to steal my information? Were you after money for drugs, alcohol?" The man's tone makes Mike feel off, but he doesn't know why.

"I-I just n-needed it." Mike mumbles, feeling his body begin to shake from the cold in the room.

The man glares at him, crossing his bare legs- looking regal despite his state of undress. "You either tell me now, or I will call the police. Believe me, with my money and influence, what you and I were doing in this hotel room will be ignored, and you'll be in jail before you can blink."

His words bring fresh tears to Mike's eyes as he feels frustration take over.

"M-my g-grandmother-" He's mumbling under his breath, and the annoyed look on the John's face makes him speak up.

"M-my grandmother. Her n-nursing home is $30,000 a year, and I can't- I can't," Like that, the tears are back and Mike has to breathe through his nose because all he can see is the nursing home employees kicking his Gran out of the home and putting her in a government funded one that smells like sewer water and doesn't provide her with the care she needs or deserves.

And in an instant, the man is in his face again pulling his hair out of his eyes and looking down at him like he's an enigma that needs to be analyzed.

"You're sleeping with random men on the street and stealing their information for your grandmother?"

This accusation in the man's voice and the mention of his grandmother causes Mike's throat to tighten and he shifts his eyes away so the stranger can't see him cry.

Cause he's seen everything else, but he doesn't get to see him cry…

"J-just l-let it go." Mike winces at how weak and teary his voice sounds, but he can't do anything about it because the man won't leave.

"Why not get a real job? Instead of one on your back?"

His voice is harsh and now Mike is crying and angry and before he can think, he is standing up and looking the man in the eyes through his tears.

"A j-job?! I-I have a job! In fact I have two fucking jobs! And I can't- can't pay for it all! The fucking student loans from two years of college that I had to drop out from because you can't take out a student loan and a loan for paying for your sick grandmother! The fucking nursing home bills that come every month because the fuckers don't care whether you can't afford to eat because as soon as the bills stop being paid, she out and then they move her to some shitty place where there is mold and no air conditioner. And she begs me not to let her go there and she deserves better for everything that she has done for me! B-because-s-se s-s-s-she's-s-s, s-she's- Fuck!"

Like that he's sobbing uncontrollably because he knows that he is going to jail and that his Gran is going to be removed from her nice nursing home, all while knowing that her grandson is nothing but a prostitute without fucking brains.

And all the thoughts start screaming at him in his head and he just wants the noise to stop because he can't-

And suddenly, he is being cocooned in warmth; his face pushed into the man's neck as his body shakes with sobs and his confused mind shuts down.

His back is being rubbed and before he can stop himself, he is gripping onto the older man's shoulders as he lets his body go numb.

He squeaks when he feels himself being picked up and moved to the bed as the man picks up his jeans and pulls them up his leg, ignoring his underwear on the floor.

Grabbing his shirt off the bed, the John pulls it over Mike's head, kissing his forehead while shushing him; confusing Mike at his kindness and causing him to cry even harder as his overstressed brain gives up on trying to understand the situation.

Once he has him dressed, the older man walks away and Mike moves his watery gaze up to watch the man dress himself. The John looks so put together in his tailored suit and Mike feels suddenly inadequate and cheap in comparison.

After straightening himself out in the mirror, the man turns back to Mike and walks toward him, pushing Mike back until the man can sit on the bed as well.

Without saying anything, the man pulls Mike over until Mike is sitting awkwardly on his lap. The John shifts Mike's body around until both are able to sit comfortably before he speaks.

"How often do you do this?" The man's voice is light and Mike frowns as he tries to process what the man is asking.

Do what? Cry during a job? Get caught stealing from a John?

The John brushes his lips against Mike's temple and Mike shivers at the intimacy of the action.

"I-I only do this when I need the ex-extra c-cash…" Mike hopes this is what the man is asking for, but he also just wants the man to continue to rub his back like he is doing.

"Hmmm." The man mumbles before speaking again, "and how often is that? Once a month… once a week?"

Mike frowns into the man's chest, trying to think how to answer the man's question before deciding that being honest will require less thought.

"I-I only started doing this a year ago. Y-You're the s-s-sixth." Mike frowns, trying to remember the encounters before him.

"So you sleep with them and then steal their information? Do you always wait for them to fall asleep?"

Mike feels himself blush but decides to continue with the truth. "I-I usually p-pretend to give them a massage before trying to k-knock them out. Y-You're the f-f-f-fir-fir-first…"

Mike frowns as he tries to talk through the stammer, but he thinks the man understands because he makes a "hmm" in understanding before threading his fingers into Mike's hair and massaging his scalp.

"Why did you not try to 'knock me out'?" The man moves his face away from Mike's forehead before he moves Mike head in the direction of his gaze.

Mike knows he wants him to look at him, but he can't, so Mike continues to move his hand along the fine material of the man's suit jacket, watching his own hands' motion.

"I-I don't k-know."

Mike draws his eyebrows together in confusion as he watches the older man grasp his meandering hands, bringing his hands up so that Mike will look up. The man then ducked his head to meet Mike's gaze halfway causing Mike to blush, but not look away.

"Hmm, you don't know?" The older man smirk, his breath fluttering against Mike's face. "What is your name?"

The question is so causal in such an odd conversation that Mike almost doesn't register.

"M-Mike." He mumbles quietly, staring into the man's eyes as he feels his cheeks heat.

"How old are you Mike?"

Again, Mike frowns at the oddly normal question. "T-Twenty-three."

The man glides his free hand along Mike's back, pulling him closer as he pushes his nose into Mike's hair and breathes in. "So young…"

Mike doesn't think that he is young, but stays quiet as the man continues to caress him in silence.

After a long minute of silence, the man returns his gaze back to Mike.

"You have an eidetic memory, don't you?"

Mike frowns at the man's words; his natural aversion to people knowing this part of him causing him to freeze up.

"It explains your extreme stutter when you get nervous. It's quite common with individuals with a photographic memory." The man continues to rub Mike's back as Mike listens to him talk.

"Oddly enough, I am in a need for someone with a superb memory." Mike knits his eyebrows in confusion of where the man is going with this conversation. "My job requires me to know everything about a person so that I can 'convince' them that my firm is their best option for representation, or that the lawsuits that they are trying to bring against my client should be dropped. Do you understand what I am saying, Mike?"

At this, Harvey turns to look Mike straight in the eye and Mike can only shake his head because he does not in fact understand what the man is saying.

"I work for a prominent law firm. I am what they call a closer, and I am good at this because I am able to blackmail essentially everyone I encounter in court. In fact," as the man speaks he shifts, pulling Mike towards him as his draws his hand up to cup Mike's face, "the only reason I met you was because I was following an opponent with a infamy for relations with male prostitutes. I had hoped to question you to see if you had heard of the man, but- well something about you distracted me."

Mike nearly bounced off the man's lap in shock as the lawyer leaned forward and brushed his lips against his own before pulling away a centimeter to look at Mike.

"Do you understand where I am going with this?"

Again Mike shook his head, his eyes wide in confusion.

The older man chuckled. "We have many associates at the firm, none of which can grasp the idea of using information outside their law books to win a case. I have been promoted in my work and as a result my workload has doubled, but my help has not. I do not like losing because of a newly graduated associate's stupidity." Making sure that Mike was following, the man continued, "I need someone with a fine eye for detail and a brain like a sponge. I also need someone willing to go outside the law and with enough street smarts to win me a case without having to go to court. Other than the street smarts, does this sound like someone you know?" He chuckled out the last sentence.

The man's smirk grew when he saw Mike move his mouth, trying to speak.

"Oh course this would not be all business. I often have to go across the country to follow leads or meet prominent clients and I do so hate having to go to clubs to find a date for the night when the urge hits me. It makes it difficult to keep a low profile."

Mike still couldn't find his voice, though his thoughts were racing through all the possibilities of what the man was asking for.

"I would pay you $30,000 flat per year and then pay for your additional expenses such as food and rent. In return I will require you to work for me both professionally and sexually. For each night you spend in my bed, you will be given an additional payment, which we can negotiate at a different time."

The man looked pointedly at Mike, trying to gauge if Mike was following; and all Mike could do was nod his head as his brain tried to catch up with all that was happening.

"Oh course, I would expect you to quit both your jobs, including your third less legal one." He smirked when he saw the red take over Mike's face.

"I reserve the right to fire you for incompetence or insubordination; however, if you are good at your job, I promise that I will not fire you for lose of interest or if you desire to quit the sexual aspect of our agreement. However, after tonight's performance, I do not see either of those being an issue."

The man's chuckle caused Mike's lips to tilt up for a millisecond until Mike realized what he was saying and then he feels his face heat up again.

However, the lawyer hummed in response to his blush, mumbling what sounded like 'perfect', before speaking again.

"Do we have a deal?" The man quirked his eyebrow at Mike.

$30,000 a year with rent and board. He wouldn't have to worry about Gran and the bills for a year and he could…

Mike could feel his mind work into overdrive and he zoned out as thought after thought went through his head.

It was the light tap of a finger against his nose that brought Mike back to reality, and before he truly realized what he was doing, he found himself nodding, a large smile plastered on his face.

Comments: Harvey may have been a bit violent, but it's exactly how I image Harvey reacting to someone who betrays his trust; especially if he was slightly emotional invested in that person.

As far as I know, people with eidetic memory do not have problems with severe stutters. I placed it into the story now because it will have significance later.

Constructive criticism is welcome. Reviews are cherished.