#attention and halfway through the song i'm like why the fuck does this sound so weird?
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i love acting like 1989tv is going to catapult me into a 1989 phase when we've done this three times already so i know that actually i'll listen to it once in full and be like huh these sound mildly different in a way that is so uncanny to me because of how well i know the originals and then i will only listen to the vault tracks and in a year will finally warm up to the album and have a belated 1989 phase :)
#and honestly? not complaining at all#i keep forgetting speak now tv is out#and i had my taylor discography playlist on the other day in the car and a speak now song came on (mean maybe?) and i was like half paying#attention and halfway through the song i'm like why the fuck does this sound so weird?#like girl did you forget about taylor lautner backflip?? hello????????#it's wild how ppl moralize liking/not liking the rerecords on here (on both sides of the equation) and it's such a tired convo so i hate#posting about it bc really what am i adding to this discussion#but if anyone cares my stance is that music and memory is so personal and if your excitement about the rerecords#and the technical/vocal improvements in the (earlier especially) recordings works better for you then that's so awesome!!#i wish my creature-of-habit brain could work a little more like that truly bc i think i would have a teeny bit more fun with this#but if you're like me and have gotten used to/emotionally attached to specific vocal performances and tiny details#take ur timeeeeeeee <3 the best part about music is that once it's out it's not going anywhere#the best feeling is when you start having those attachments to the rerecorded version of a song (state of graceeeeeee)#and if that adjustment never happens for u then that's also fine (although it takes two seconds to put those mp3s of all the albums u def#have lying around somewhere into a silly little spotify playlist and listen to those instead of streaming the ogs. turn on local files!!!!)#anyway. i love not giving scooter braun/ppl who treat music as an investment instead of an art money <3#and i love that the rerecords have bene giving us a chance to really reflect upon and celebrate specific albums and eras for a prolonged#period of time. especially as someone who missed most of these when they were happening.#vi is typing...
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OC Kiss Week Day 5: Night
WIP: Darkspace Portent series
Pairing: Thrive x Warren
Timeline: Honestly? No idea.
CW: none?
Rating: T
Words: 1,136
***
Warren sat down on the edge of the cliff next to Thrive, resting his feet on top of the stairs carved into the rock face leading down to the beach. The chilled Tournaltis breeze ruffled through their hair, and Warren hugged himself to ward off the initial intensity of the nightly temperature drop.
"How is it that we almost always find ourselves alone during Skywaste concerts?"
Thrive looked at him, amused. "I've often wondered the same thing. There may be something subliminally aphrodisiacal about their music."
"Oh, shit, comin' in hot with the big, sexy words." Warren sighed, his breath escaping in a fog that carried itself away into the deep ink of the sky. "You doing okay?"
"I am." Thrive turned his attention back to the desert lights surfing against the wind over the shore, their glowing reflections causing glitter on the choppy ocean. Skywaste's music from the stage farther inland behind him and Warren echoed across the void, braided with the sounds of their enthusiastic audience. "I'm enjoying myself, but I needed space."
"I get it. Am I intruding?"
Thrive smiled warmly at him. "Never, th'saiya. I do worry that you're anxious about being so close to the edge of the cliff, however."
Warren shook his head. "It's terrifying, but…honestly, I never feel safer than when I'm with you."
Thrive watched him for a few seconds, then reached over to push some of Warren's hair away from his forehead, finishing the gesture with a sweep of his knuckle across his cheekbone.
Warren slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "I ever tell you how much I love you?"
"Not a single moment of your life."
"Yeah?" Warren tipped his head back. "That's cool. Why start now?"
Thrive's smile turned mischievous.
"I will say, though," Warren continued, "that they just started playing our song. And I think I'm feeling some type of way about it."
"Does this feeling call for an abrupt departure from the festivities? I seem to recall that being the course of events the first time we heard this song."
Warren shifted so he sat closer to Thrive and delighted in the body heat radiating off of him. "I'd settle for an abridged version."
"Would you?"
"I think if I put in a lot of effort, I can suffer just once the indignity of having to make out with you, you son of a bitch."
"Romantic." Thrive leaned into him, and the contentment in his face could've lit the entire beach with its brilliance. "If you don't mind, however…I'd like to keep things light. While I'm delighted to spend time with you, I also don't want to step away from this. The air is fresh and there's something very pensive about the Sky tonight."
"Hey." Warren grinned at him. "Hearing that you're feeling good is like a fucking drug, man. I'd love to just sit out here with you."
Thrive grasped Warren's hand and pulled it toward himself, interlocking their fingers together as he cast his gaze out to the ocean, where three moons peeked out from the hidden horizon.
"…How light is 'light,' though?"
"There it is," Thrive muttered.
Warren laughed. "I'm sorry. I'm just messing, we don't have to do anything, I swear."
To his pleasant surprise, Thrive moved even closer and tilted his face up with a knuckle under the chin. "I am insanely, tragically in love with you."
"Mm." Butterflies thrashed about in Warren's stomach, as they almost always did in moments like this with no one but Thrive. "Write your own material."
"Why would I do that when your words were succinct and very relatable?"
Thrive finally closed the distance between them, sinking the tips of his fingers into the back of Warren's neck to draw him as close as he physically could. Warren contented in sitting halfway across Thrive's lap for the duration of several songs, blissfully engaged in syncing their minds and running his hands over his chest and shoulders. He coiled his arms around him, so engrossed in Thrive's lips and the warm home of their connection that he would, on occasion, forget they were technically in complete view of everyone for no other hazard than possibly carrying on exactly like that until the sun rose.
By the time either of them had the wherewithal to surface for breathable air, the concert was still in full swing. As Warren crested his amorous fog, he seemed to just then realize with a start that he and Thrive were, in fact, two separate entities.
"Whoa," Warren exhaled.
"Whoa indeed," Thrive murmured, and he regarded Warren with so much affection it almost physically hurt.
After humming and pressing a prolonged kiss to the corner of Thrive's mouth, Warren drooped into his arms. Breathed on his throat, brushed his lips over his pulse point.
"I appreciate your restraint," Thrive said sincerely.
"It's the hardest thing I think I've ever done…pretty literally, as you'll notice." Warren winced. "Sometimes I think I wanna, like…crawl under your skin and live with a Thrive suit on for a while."
Thrive was silent for a beat. "What?"
Warren, overcome with sudden giggles, pulled back to inspect Thrive's bewildered face. "I don't know. I'm a little punchy—that was really fucking weird. I never said that."
"Perhaps bed is a good idea after all for the purpose of sleep."
"Yeah. Maybe. Or maybe I'm allergic to your happiness. God." Warren combed his hand through Thrive's hair. "You're so beautiful. How did I get so lucky?"
"As flattered as I am, this body is not mine."
"So you keep telling me." Warren cocked his head. "Here's the kicker, though—your natural form is just as beautiful. At least…it is to me."
A rapid flash of melancholy appeared on Thrive's face before he masked it with another albeit genuine smile. "Perhaps I'm the lucky one."
"It's definitely me, but I'm not here to argue the point. You're right about one thing, and that's the fact that I need to sleep off whatever alien high I'm on right now. If you wanna stay here, that's great."
"Would you mind if I rested with you?"
Warren recoiled in offense and rattled off a response in a tone that sounded as if he were reading blandly from a script. "No, Thrive. You're not welcome anywhere near me. Ew no, stinky boy."
Thrive laughed, rolling his eyes. "Sarcasm unneeded, but I see my error."
"Sarcasm unneeded, says you. C'mon. Can't get up to sleepy morning shenanigans if we don't go to sleep first."
Thrive watched him stand and move toward the capital house, and Warren basked in the ethereal glow of his smile. "A fair point."
They retired for the night with their arms around each other and the muffled soundtrack of the concert permeating the walls of Warren's room.
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I did it again.... 😶🤫
The Tease in the Recording Studio
"Try it again, but more seductive. We're going for a sexy vibe for this song, you have to make them feel like YOU want THEM." The producer in charge of the recordings offers. "You've got this, the fans already want you. You just need to give a little extra back to them."
Bangchan runs his hands through his hair. He's been singing the same part over and over, bringing forth his most charismatic personality, but Ms. Park says it's not enough after every recording. "Alright," he sighs, "let's try it again." He puts the headphone back up to his ear but you can see he's tired and confused on what she wants from him now.
"No problem, have a quick drink and we'll roll it back and start at the beginning again." The woman watches Chan through the glass studiously, then turns to you to apologize, "I'm sorry we're taking so long Ms. Y/L/N, but the job isn't done until it's perfect. I know you've been waiting here awhile but I appreciate you being patient with us. It shouldn't take much longer."
You always liked this recording producer. She was brilliant at her job and she's also very sweet and always allowed you to sit in while recording when you got bored of waiting at home. "It's fine! I understand completely. Can I say something to him before you start again though?" You ask.
"Words of encouragement are always welcome. Go ahead!" She shows you what to press to speak to him. You wet your lips and speak clearly through the small mic. "Channie?" He straightens and smiles at your pet name before replying right away, "Its okay if you wanna wait at home sweetheart, I know it's taking me a bit to get this right but I'll be home at some point tonight, you don't have to wait for me."
"What-? I'm not going anywhere," you laugh, "I just wanted to let you know that you can do absolutely do this, I know you're tired but I also know that you've got this!! Just know I'm here to support you!" You offer up a cheesy grin and wink at him causing him to laugh as well.
"Of course I do. I'm sexy after all right? Singing seductively should come easy to me if I don't think too hard." His eyes brighten and he puts his headphones on before giving his producer a thumbs up to signal he's ready.
"Here we go again!" She says cheerfully, as you sit down on the couch to watch your boyfriend make magic happen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A frustrated growl leaves Chan as Ms. Park tells him to take a break. It's been over an hour and he's made no progress. He chugs his water bottle and slams it down. You don't typically see him this angry and maybe it's caused by sitting here for so long but... it's kind of hot. He only gets aggressive when you guys are intimate, becoming a whole other person it seems. You get up to go eat something with him while you all take a break.
You both sit in the small break room together as you watch him eat the small sandwich you brought him from home hours ago.
"I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong?" He complains, furiously taking a bite. "How can I not have given off the right vibe by now?" He licks his lips and you're thighs close on their own, stirring up memories of what the two of you did last night. His tongue seemed to have a map of your pussy memorized. Oh how he took you on a mind altering trip. Bending you to his will, literally.
He notices you're staring into the distance and waves a hand in front of your face, "Y/N? You okay? Maybe you should go home and go to sleep now, it's already 11:18 at night." He reaches down and puts his hand on your knee, you'd worn a cute black skirt that comes about halfway up your thighs. Thanks to his touch alone, an immediate urge woke in you and caused you to almost jolt from the contact. Apparently, your poker face needs some practice because Chan picked up on it almost instantly. His eyes dilate a bit as he watches you take your lower lip into your mouth and your breath hitches.
"Oh princess..." he coos at you teasingly, "does my little love need some special attention?" He slides his hand up from your knee to your thigh and begins to stand up and lean in slowly, almost like a predator stalking his prey. "Well, do you?" Every nerve in your body is firing off and your brain is giving you a fight or flight command, but that's what he wants right? He wants you to feel like prey, like you need to run. You wonder if you don't back off... if you were a bit disobedient, maybe this time you could take charge...how would he react?
Wouldn't hurt to find out right?
"Why does it matter? It's not like we have any time for you to do anything about it." You smirk at him, folding your arms and leaning back. His face goes slack for about .5 seconds before his eyes turns a whole new shade of brown. So dark you could be lost in them forever. "Excuse me-" he begins, teeth gritted, just as the door opens to reveal a newly energized producer.
"LETS GO PARTY PEOPLE! We need to get this done and I feel like this next take is gonna be perfect!" She's comes and goes like a hurricane leading the way to the recording room, with you and Bangchan following behind.
Once you all get to there, Chan immediately goes into the small sound proof portion to begin. However, his eyes continue to flit to you, and you can tell he's a little annoyed with being interrupted in the break room. Especially after your last comment.
Ms. Park tells him he's definitely giving off the right kind of energy atm and to keep his head space where it's currently at for the song.
And then you have a wonderful idea. Seriously, you should be an evil temptress. He nods at her but doesn't take his eyes off you for long as he starts singing. Perfect. You look at the back of his Ms. Park's head making sure she's focused on what she's doing. Before swiping your tongue slowly and suggestively over your lips, making full eye contact with Chan. He stumbles over his words, and Ms. Park sighs and asks him to start over, jokingly saying that that was just a warm up.
You smirk it feels nice to have control especially when he isn't able to do anything about it. You're almost positive that this will come back to bite you in the ass but.... it's kind of fun. So you continue. You lean forward and dig through your purse, fishing out a sucker, but as you do you begin letting your breasts tumble out as much as possible. His voice has a slight subtle change to it. And the producer claps her hands excitedly. So far so good.
You sit up and unwrap the sucker placing it in your mouth as you open your legs widely before crossing them, knowingly giving Chan a peep show. His voice is radiating through your body now causing a deep aching in your cunt. Damn was this what Ms. Park was wanting from him. You didn't know how you felt about other girls receiving this special type of feeling from him. A small sting of jealousy courses through you and though you know how deeply you've both fallen for each other. It's just a song, you tell yourself.
You decide to keep taunting him, and you finally run your tongue of over the sucker. You twist it against your lips before sucking it into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you slowly pull it back out of your mouth smiling at him. His eyes haven't left you this whole time, and the dangerous and almost feral look he gave you was making you clench at nothing. Your pussy was already slick causing your panties to grow wet with your need. You didn't realize how much you were testing him.
He was already harder than hell but thankfully Ms. Park couldn't tell with his sweats and baggy hoodie on. He didn't know where you got this cocky and teasing attitude from but he couldn't wait to take you home and fuck it out of you. You'd never purposfully been this much of a tease before and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it. He takes a breath before going into his solo part in the song and in that exact moment, he knew you were going to be punished tonight.
You'd waited for his part to come up and just before it did you spread your legs to show off your soaking panties slowly slipping a hand down over yourself and rubbing gently. You were so caught up on teasing him you hadn't realized how sensitive you'd gotten. The moment you pressed onto your clit you're mouth opened a bit and you wiggle slightly at the stimulation.
And BOY does Chan notice, his hips jerk forward slightly. Chan watches as your legs close tightly around your wandering fingers, wanting so badly to to replace your fingers with his own. He's in the clear now. Finishing the song with a lusty, almost dangerous note as he sees you bring your fingers up to your lips and suck your own juices off of them with a minx-like grin. You pull your skirt back into place and pop the sucker back into your mouth.
"THAT WAS IT! THAT WAS AMAZING! It's exactly what we needed! We are DONE!" Ms. Park yells whilst jumping up and down. She turns to you and thanks you for your support. "I don't know WHAT you did on lunch to help him get the right mood but whatever it was we might have to have you in here more often!" She laughs. You all gather your stuff and part ways once you get out of the building.
Chan wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in tightly before leaning down, voice rumbling in your ear, "you have awakened a whole new side of me I hope you know that."
You look up at him with the biggest most innocent grin you can muster, the friction of your thighs rubbing together and the meaning behind his words and tone setting your stomach alight with a monstrous sexual hunger. The walk home was difficult for many reasons and at least one of them was because Chan had slipped his hand under your top, fingers brushing your bare skin and adding to the discord of tingles you already had.
"Who would've known you could be such a brat," he says as you both make it to your apartment. He opens the door and let's you walk in first slapping you on the ass and causing you to squeak out in surprise. He enters behind you and locks the door before quickly grabbing your hand and pinning you against the wall. Your lips meet and you can taste his need, the pure desire to ruin you tonight. His hand sneaks into your skirt and panties feeling how wet you were for him. You moan at the contact, your body almost crumbling in on yourself. "Chan" you manage say. "Babygirl- you have a three second head start." He tells you voice coated with a dominant and feral tone as he removes his hand from your warm sheath and licks his fingers clean. "1.......2...." and before he could get to three you bolt for the bedroom, the immense need to run taking over. You haven't even made it 5 feet away before you hear him say three. Before his foot steps are sounding behind you. And all you can think is.
It's going to be a long night.
#skz smut#skz fic#skz bang chan#bang chan#bang chan smut#im not a writer#help i did it again...#stray kids smut#dom bangchan#brat y/n#dom chan
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Here's the thing, I've got a silly prompt, but I kinda feel like you prefer more serious ones? But I'm still going to deliver it so that you can do something about it (or not) with your talent. So I pictured Mike and Harvey working together in season 7, and Mike is stuck with Ed Sheeran song "Shape Of You" for ages. And Harvey can take it anymore. It becomes a thing for Mike, to drive Harvey nuts with the song. Until somehow they got in very embarrasing situation because of that. Feels happen.
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How do you spell “extortion,” anyway? E-x-t-o-r-t?E-x-t-o-r-s? It’s basic knowledge, grade-school stuff, and Harvey definitelyknew when he started reading this fucking document, but seven eight nine hoursstaring at the same sentences over and over and over have that sort of warpingeffect, especially at—Harvey glances at the clock—one AM, holy shit, when didthat happen?
Once more. He’ll read it through once more, top tobottom, and head out for the night.
Mike taps his pen rhythmically against his thigh; one two, three one two, three one two, three,and that’s gotta be a song stuck in his head but Harvey doesn’t know which one.
“This guy’s jerking us around,” Mike mutters, and Harveygrits his teeth.
“No kidding,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “but we’dbetter figure out how before we ask him or we’ll never get the truth.”
Yeah. Yeah, that.
Mike will get it, it’s fine.
He’s about halfway through the file when Mike startstapping the pen again, and he doesn’t seem to notice when he starts humming,too; Harvey recognizes the song now, even if he can’t place the name.
This is going nowhere fast.
“Go home,” he says, closing the file and shoving it intoa file underneath his desk. “Hopefully one of us has an epiphany on the way intomorrow morning.”
Mike looks up at him blearily, arching his back andstretching his arms out in front of him.
“You got it, boss,” he teases, gathering his papers and justbarely keeping from knocking into Harvey’s coffee table as he stumbles towardthe door. He starts humming again as soon as he clears the obstacle course, andHarvey presses his eyes into his palms.
“And stop your goddamn humming.”
Mike tosses a two-fingered salute on his way out.
—
Sauntering in the front door at nine forty-five, Harveytakes a second to appreciate such freedoms afforded to name partners before heheads for Mike’s office. Poor kid’s probably been in for an hour already, hourand a half if he had trouble sleeping last night.
Knocking on the door, Harvey doesn’t wait for an answerbefore he opens it—but he really should have, because Mike isn’t just hummingto himself anymore; he’s graduated to quiet singing, and Harvey can’t make outthe words but he sees his lips moving and catches the musical tone.
“What’ve you got for me?” he asks loudly, finallycatching Mike’s attention as he looks up with a jerk of his neck and slightlywidened eyes.
“Ideas,” he replies promptly, “and…more ideas.”
Harvey sits across from him and raises his handsqueryingly, and Mike sighs through his teeth.
“There’s something rotten in this blackmail angle,” he complains,“but I cannot figure out what it is.”
“Maybe if you tried singing about it,” Harvey tauntsbefore he thinks better of it, and Mike smirks.
“Not without my backup dancers.”
Grinning, Harvey stands and knocks his knuckles againstMike’s desk.
“Let me know when you have your next brilliant flash ofinsight,” he says. “In the meantime, I’ll put Vanessa on it.”
Mike drops his head into his hands. “I’ve gotta get meone of those.”
“Alright, Commissioner.”
—
By three that afternoon, Mike has cobbled together enoughof a theory to start making probing phone calls, and from what little Vanessahas found so far, their conclusions seem to be lining up; when Harvey returnsto his office after a late lunch, Mike has left a stack of papers clippedtogether on top of his laptop with a blue highlighter placed carefully on thedesk beside.
The first page is a concise summary with page references(good boy), informing him that the best information will be on the fifth page,and sure enough, when Harvey flips to it, there’s a Post-It stuck to the topmargin.
“Who pays blackmail through a hospital fund?” Mike’srushed scrawl reads, which is certainly a point worth considering. Then,underneath, a little neater: “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, sothe bar is where I go; me and my friends at the table doing shots, drinkingfast and then we talk slow.”
The tune begins ringing in his head immediately andHarvey rips the lower half off the Post-It, crumpling it in his fist andtossing it in the garbage.
That little fucker.
Of all things, why did it have to be a love song?
—
“Put Van the Man on the jukebox,” Mike declaresnonsensically, slapping a printout that looks like an email chain down onHarvey’s desk.
“Most people knock,” Harvey drawls, hoping Mike can’ttell that that damn song is suddenly stuck in his head for the third time today.“What’s this?”
“A conversation beginning exactly eleven months ago nextweek between our client Mister Jim Stone and the man he claims to beblackmailing him,” Mike stabs the paper, his eyes lighting up, “initiated by—”
“Stone,” Harvey interrupts, taking the paper and skimmingthe text. “Where’d you get this?”
“My new girl Penelope,” Mike says with a grin. “AnywayI’d say this is pretty damning evidence that the blackmail claim is bullshit.”
“And it only took a week to drag this up,” Harvey says.Leaning back in his chair, he purses his lips and raises his eyebrows. “Sowho’s Penelope? Someone special I should be getting to know?”
“Oh, don’t be jealous, Harvey,” Mike sing-songs, “youknow your love was handmade for somebody like me.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Harvey chuckles, and Mikewalks backwards out of the office with a little swing in his hips.
Harvey pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. This isstarting to get out of hand.
—
Two days later, Mike and Harvey lurk in the hall as theylet Jim Stone and some assistant of his wait in Conference Room C, uncertain asto exactly why they’ve been called in and hopefully getting nervous. Flippingthrough an unrelated file, Mike tries to look busy in case Stone is watchingthem.
“You wanna be the good cop or the bad cop?” Mike asks,and Harvey scoffs.
“You really asking me that?”
Mike closes the file and bites down on a smirk. “We pushand pull like a magnet do,” he croons; Harvey smacks his shoulder and Mikelaughs.
“Come on, follow my lead.”
God help him, Harvey does, walking half a pace behindMike as they confront Mister Stone.
“Harvey,” Jim says, standing with a cocksure smile. “Iassume I’m here because you have good news?”
“If that’s what you want to call it,” Harvey returnsskeptically, brandishing a printout of the email chain. “How about you start bybeing up front with us about this?”
Harvey watches Jim rush to invent a plausible excuse ashe puffs up his chest and darts a gaze to his assistant; he hasn’t had to lie likethis in awhile, it seems.
Mike begins to hum.
Oh, no you don’t.
“He first contacted me by phone,” Jim says eventually,obviously under the impression that he’s coming across as some kind of smoothcustomer, and Mike stops humming as he rolls his eyes and the assistantscribbles something on a notepad.
“‘Mister Tennon,’” Mike recites, “‘my name is Jim Stone,and I believe I have a proposal which would be of mutual benefit to us if youwould be willing to further discuss the matter at a later date.’ Sounds like anintroduction to me, wouldn’t you say, Harvey?”
“I would,” Harvey agrees, “and frankly Jim, I don’t givea damn what you’re trying to cover up here unless it’s going to come around andbite me in the ass while I’m trying to mount your defense, so how about youstop bullshitting us and explain yourself?”
Stone fumbles for another few seconds before falling backinto his seat, averting his gaze and doing his best to keep from gaping like afish; Harvey cross his arms over his chest and Mike puts his hands on his hips.
Then…wait a second.
For crying out loud, does he even know he’s doing itanymore, or has it become just some awful habit?
Stone starts digging around in his briefcase, as thoughsomething in there will explain his poor planning and general stupidity, whenHarvey hears it clearly:
“I’m in love with your body,” Mike mumbles rhythmically.
Stone pulls out a stack of papers and keeps digging ashis assistant wrings his hands uselessly.
“Every day discovering something brand new…”
Harvey grits his teeth.
“I’m in love with the shape—”
“Alright, that’s it.”
Harvey grabs Mike’s elbow and hauls him stumbling out thedoor into the hall; Stone looks up in surprise and his assistant’s head snapsaround as the door swings shut behind them and Harvey doesn’t often wish theglass walls of this office were made of something a little more opaque, but he sureis wishing that now.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hisses the moment heand Mike are out of view of their client; a couple of stray associates wisely scuttleaway, keeping their heads down, and Mike looks genuinely baffled, raising hishands and shaking his head.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mike says. Harveyisn’t sure whether to believe him or not.
“That song,” he snaps, “you’ve been—humming it andsinging it and drumming it for a weekand a half!”
“It’s stuck in my head,” Mike mutters.
“That song,” Harvey says dryly. “That song in particularhas been stuck in your head for over aweek.”
Mike shrugs. “I guess? Why, you got something against EdSheeran?”
“Do I— No, Mike, I have something against you singing a love song at me for ten days straight!”
Mike looks down shamefacedly, then back up with his eyesnarrowed. “Wait, why?”
Harvey doesn’t really have an answer to that; or, hedoes, handily, but he’s not about to tell Mike what it is.
“Because it’s very unprofessional,” he declares, which itactually kind of is. “And I know he sure doesn’t look it, but Stone is worth alot of money that I don’t want to see flushed down the drain when he fires us becauseyou can’t get your earworm under control!”
It’s true; Stone’s suit isn’t even made to measure, muchless bespoke. The man clearly has no idea how to handle his fortune. Probably inherited.
But Mike has that look in his eye like he’s uncovered afact buried about a hundred meters underground that someone went to a greatdeal of trouble to hide from him (because Harvey did), and he’s not about tolet it go (just as Harvey taught him).
“But you would’ve been fine with ‘Castle on the Hill.’”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point,” Mike argues. “You said youdon’t like me singing a love song, at you, for ten days, and I’m asking you why,because I have an idea and I’d like to know if we’re on the same page with it.”
Shit.
Wait.
Harvey frowns. “What do you mean, ‘same page’?”
Shoving his hand into his hair, Mike looks away and sighssharply.
“Before I say what I’m going to say, I’d like to remindyou that it would be a huge pain in the ass at this point for you to hiresomeone to replace me and the number of people with eidetic memories is vanishinglysmall so you’re basically guaranteed to never find anyone else who’s goodenough to pass the Bar without going to law school and I’ve got enough dirt onyou and Specter Litt to bury this firm if I really want to but.” He pauses abruptly and Harvey takes a moment to be impressedthat he got that all out in one breath before Mike meets his eyes challengingly.
“I’m getting kind of sick of pretending I’m not super into you.”
Of all the ways this situation could have played out,this is definitely one of the weirdest. Best? Weirdest. But also sort ofawesome.
But very weird.
Harvey clears his throat imperiously and tries to find somestable footing.
“Are you threatening me?”
Mike puts his hands in his pockets and looks upthoughtfully, clenching his teeth; he was confident enough to say what he did,but he’s not completely confident that he’s right about it. Well, he’s a guywho goes after what he wants, that’s for sure; that consequences-be-damnedattitude has gotten him in trouble in the past, but he’s still willing to puthimself out there when it counts.
“I think,” Mike speculates, “that it was more like…blackmail?”
Harvey smirks. “Are you sure about that, because I didn’thear any quid pro quo demands.”
He sees the moment Mike realizes that he hasn’t beenchastised, or demoted, and his cocky grin mimics Harvey’s almost exactly.
“Either you invite me out to dinner in a clearly defineddate-like capacity, or you wait for me to ask you first.”
“You son of a bitch.”
Nodding his agreement, Mike magnanimously offers hishand. “So, Mister Specter, we agree?”
Harvey takes his hand and shakes it firmly. “I’ll pickyou up at eight.”
They hold each other’s grips for a period definitelylonger than necessary, and Mike grins.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Harvey watches fondly as Mike strides back into theconference room and opens a folder full of spreadsheets to shove in theirclient’s face.
The kid sure knows how to handle a tough situation; thisis going to be fun.
There’s just one more question Harvey has to ask himself beforetonight:
The button-front or the Henley?
Chapter Two
—
“I’ve gotta get me one of those.” —Commissioner James Gordon (GaryOldman), Batman Begins (2005)
“Castle on the Hill” is the other lead single fromSheeran’s studio album ÷ (2017).
Just to clarify, Penelope isn’t Mike’s girlfriend, she’s his C.I. (his Vanessa).
#marvey#fanfiction#prompt#Anonymous#oh god i'm so sorry#fluff is not my forte#i can't tell if it's any good#i hope you like it!#but i really am sorry#anyway#one more to go!
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