Chapter Text
Harvey has him over the back of the couch. Mike’s face is smushed against the cushions, his jeans around his knees trapping his legs. It’s the second time today and Mike still feels the first round lingering against his skin, feels the rug burn of the carpet against his shoulder blades from when Harvey had bent him in half on the floor in his walk-in closet.
How Harvey can be up for such a rough and tumble at 6:30 in the morning is beyond Mike but he is not complaining. If that’s what gets Harvey ready for the day… some have a granola bar, others have a Mike Ross (who then has a granola bar to regain his strength while Harvey sets off to work).
Strong hands spread him open, Harvey’s thumb gently brushing against his hole in contrast. Preparation is barely necessary but Harvey does it nonetheless.
“Please,” Mike whimpers, trying not to suffocate against the sofa.
His wish is fulfilled soon after. Pushing in at a steady pace, Harvey bottoms out, pressing against Mike’s backside, pressing Mike against the couch. Feet planted, he grips Mike’s hips, tilting his hips just so and Mike’s knees start to shake already.
They go slow at first, knowing that it’ll end all too soon if they give into it. But it won’t be the last time today, Mike is sure of that. They’ll save that for later, for when they’re in bed, for when the initial need is met and they can take their time. Making it last. Making love.
Mike pushes back, urging Harvey on. Their rhythm quickens and Mike has to brace himself for balance. It’s not as rough as it was this morning but every bit as satisfying. Harvey will come first, Mike is sure of it, judging by the needy pace and the very unromantic fact that he won’t let him come over the couch.
It only takes Harvey a few more carefully angled thrusts before his body goes rigid. Mike can feel it inside of him, the little stutters and quivers.
He loves it like this, being taken from behind, but it’s even better when he can see Harvey’s face to go along with it.
What he hates is the moment when Harvey pulls out of him, the wet sound bordering on obscene (it is, really, who are they kidding).
What Mike loves again is when Harvey helps him straighten up, turns him around and drops to his knees to suck him off.
Harvey swallows what Mike gives him. He always does. Almost greedily so. Feeling a little lightheaded, Mike sways on his feet as he dwindles down from his height. He tastes himself on Harvey’s tongue when they kiss afterwards.
He grins stupidly against Harvey’s mouth. “Honey, you’re home.”