Work Text:
The breeze wouldn't feel quite so strong if there were more people here, filling up the parking lot. If there were more bodies wandering around, taking up space, blocking the view.
Thursday afternoon must not be a very popular time to go to prison. Then again, maybe it's for the best.
Harvey leans against the hood of the car and sticks his hands into his pockets.
“They're all gone.”
Mike squints his eyes against the sunlight bouncing off the pale clouds covering the sky, his smile thin and sort of flat.
“It's not your fault,” he says. The lines are scripted, the recitation rote.
Harvey takes a deep breath in and blows it out fast. The prison is all sharp angles and straight lines, an off-white mix of brutalism and modernist geometric slants. Not a prison; a warehouse. A storage locker, six ninety-nine per minute.
“Yeah, it is.”
Let's not bother with all that, shall we?
Mike lowers his head with a little laugh, his smile wry and sort of ironic.
“Yeah. I guess is.”
The corner of Harvey's lips quirk up for a second. “You know, you didn't have to agree with me.”
“Yeah? Since when?”
Fair enough.
The air's awfully cold for this time of year. Something to do with all those clouds, maybe, the emptiness of everything around them. They should've worn heavier jackets, if they were planning going to be out this long.
“Planning,” that's a laugh.
Harvey reaches across the hood of the car and takes Mike's hand in his.
Mike squeezes his grip tight. Don't worry. It won't be the last time.
“I'll be out before you know it.”
“Mm.” Harvey rolls his shoulders back and threads their fingers together. “I'll pick up another bottle of your shampoo on my way home, I think we're running a little low.”
It's all the little things that make the biggest difference. Not now, maybe, not standing underneath this overcast sky, biding their time until the inevitable comes, but later. Before they know it, when everything is over and done, it'll be all the little things they want the most.
The breeze stirs up again, underneath the collars of their pressed shirts, through the thin fabric of their dress socks.
“We should've gotten together sooner,” Harvey says as Mike shakes his head.
“C'mon, man, don't do that.”
Harvey smirks, lifting their clasped hands to his lips. “Don't get on my case, I can't help it.”
I can't help it, looking back on that imaginary past. Isn't the view much better than this present we're drowning in now? This future we're preparing for ourselves? Maybe if we'd had a little more time, a few more moments to ourselves, things might have turned out a little different. Maybe our ending might have been a little happier. Don't you think?
Come on, now. You've always known I was a selfish man.
Mike sighs.
“Things moved pretty fast, huh?”
Harvey rubs his thumb along Mike's knuckles as his gaze begins to slip out of focus.
“You regret it?”
Mike scoffs. “'Course not.”
Of course not. Of course.
This isn't the time for all of that, anyway. All our doubts and second thoughts, they'll creep up on us later on in the dead of night. All the grieving we should have done before, back when we had each other to lean on. Back when the light at the end of the tunnel was enough to brighten the darkness inside of it.
I'll be strong for you, my love. You'll see.
“'Course not.” Harvey kisses the back of his hand again. “I would've hated myself if I hadn't fought as hard as I did.”
I would've hated myself if I hadn't fought as hard as I could. I'd hate myself if there was anything left I hadn't tried.
If your hand wasn't like water slipping out of mine.
Harvey tightens his grip, and Mike closes his eyes and sighs.
“Be honest, though.” He opens his eyes again and turns his head to face Harvey, still looking up at the top of the chain link fence.
“You kind of hate me for this.”
Of course not. Of course I could never. All the mistakes I made that led to this, all the regrets in my heart that will never go away, there's no room for you in there.
I'll love you for the rest of my life.
Harvey turns to Mike, meeting his eyes, pretending not to see that they're shining.
“Maybe a little.”
Mike smiles, pulling his hand from Harvey's grip and reaching to cradle his face instead, drawing him in. It can hardly be called a kiss, the way their lips press together, but that's all right. There's plenty of time for that later.
He'll be out before they know it.
Harvey slides his hand around the back of Mike's neck, pulling himself closer, resting his forehead against Mike's and closing his eyes again.
“I'll get you out of there soon.”
Mike kisses him a little harder this time.
“Don't you dare.”
Harvey laughs softly, putting on a little show. That's a funny joke you just made, my dear. It's all right, though; I know you didn't mean it.
We've got to stop making promises we can't keep, you and I.
“Well.”
Tipping his head back as though the sun might start shining down on his face, taking a breath as though the brisk air might calm his mind, Mike takes a step toward that chain link fence. A moment passes, and he takes another.
“I guess it's time to get busy living and get busy dying.”
Harvey shakes his head.
“Mike.”
He's barely started to turn before Harvey pulls him into an embrace, clutching him tight to his chest, holding Mike's face into the crook of his neck. Mike doesn't bother feigning any surprise as he wraps his arms around Harvey's back, closing his eyes tight and pressing in close until he can't even breathe.
You never can tell what might be the last time, after all.
Don't worry, darling. I'll be by your side when it counts.