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Harvey hated that plant from the start.
The second he stepped into Mike’s office, and saw that potted cactus where a catastrophe of highlighters would usually be, the first thing he said was—
”That’s demonic.”
And it was. Don’t get him wrong, Harvey loved plants as much as the next person, but when those plants wore napkins as scarves and had googly eyes pasted onto their pseudo face, it was his sworn duty to inform the owner how fucking ugly it was.
”What is?” Rude. His partner barely looks up to greet him.
”Little Audrey over there.” Harvey waves a hand to the side vaguely, and leans forward against Mike’s desk. He squints his eyes just the slightest to pretend to see what the other man was working on, and slides a hand up Mike’s nape to squeeze gently.
”Audrey..?” Mike frowns, and finally emerges from his cluster of papers to give his desk an odd look, and search for ‘Audrey’.
”Oh.” He says not even one moment later, and leans back. “You mean the plant.”
Harvey hums, looking at Mike now. He studies his features carefully, and raises an eyebrow to make it seem as if he were judging him. He lets the silence stretch long enough to make it uncomfortable.
”The plant’s fine. What’s up with the eyes.. and rag..?”
”You don’t like it?” Mike asks, a crinkle forming on his brow. Harvey has to resist the impulsive thought of smoothing it down.
”I didn’t say that.” He lies, because yes he had. Twice now, maybe thrice if he counts mentally. “It’s.. unique.”
Mike clicks his tongue, and nudges the plant to the left as if it would suddenly start justifying itself.
“You don’t like it.” He says, and this time it isn’t a statement.
”I hate it.” Harvey finds himself agreeing. “Did someone give it to you?”
Whoever had would be facing a hell lot of paperwork, because there was no way— and he means none— someone bought that.. thing with a straight face, and had no intention of making a fool out of Mike.
”No, I bought it.”
Of course he did.
”Why.”
”Because I liked it, it’s my money, and my office.”
Harvey.. couldn’t argue with that. He nods slowly, and presses a kiss against the crown of Mike’s hair, and snatches the portfolio he came here for— along with the excuse to see his partner— from under the man’s elbow.
”As long as it stays in here, I’m fine with whatever you get.” He says simply, and saunters back to his office.
Harvey had been in a particularly good mood. He allowed Mike to sleep in, and arrived at the firm early. Both of which were a clear sign that absolutely nothing could piss him off, unless of course someone tried to piss on him, but that was completely unlikely. He nods at Donna as he enters his office, and breathes in the smell of paper and ink.
Of course he should’ve known it was all too good to be true. Two hours in, and his phone already pinged alive in his pocket. Harvey had half a mind to just ignore it, and keep working, but curiosity was stronger than restraint, and so he unlocked the device and peered at his notifications.
Mike: I forgot to water Audrey
Mike: Can you do it?
Harvey: No.
Mike: Harvey.
Harvey: Do it yourself.
Mike: I’m not at the firm. You are
Harvey: I am not touching that plant.
Mike: Please?
Harvey: …
Harvey: Fine
Where’s his boyfriend of the year award? is what Harvey half heartedly thinks as he gets up— very slowly— from his deskchair, and stretches to bring some blood back to his legs.
What confuses Harvey the most is when exactly did they decide to name an ugly but otherwise normal opuntia after a man-eating flower? Sure he might’ve called it that once while insulting it, but you don’t name a baby Donald.D just because it sounds like a spiteful duck most of the time.
Back to the task of lesser men, Harvey manages to slip into Mike’s office without having to face too many people, and needing to explain why on Earth was he going to the junior partners office when Mike wasn’t even there yet. Of course, he couldn’t hide anything from Donna, and only showed her the bright screen before she asked.
Upon entering, his poor vision is immediately assaulted by the sight of the demonic creature innocently perched on the table. Harvey rolls his eyes, and walks closer to flick it experimentally like he was expecting the cactus to break into a song about needing to be fed.
Harvey then notices a half empty disposable cup standing next to it, and picks it up with a wrinkled nose to pour the undoubtedly bacteria filled concoction on the soil. Good riddance, he thinks as he places it back down though a part of him— a very minuscule part— does think of what Mike might think if his beloved plant died of bio-hazardous water.
”Stupid plant.” Harvey accuses, and fixes the lopsided googly eyes in the time he had before his return to his own office was required.
Later when Mike stepped through Harvey’s glass doors with a beaming smile, and an arm full of documents, Harvey almost thought the whole affair was worth it. Still, he wouldn’t do it again even if Mike paid him.
Mike had paid him, just not in the currency Harvey was used to. That didn’t mean he wasn’t pleased with his reward. Even though he had to walk the path of shame to Mike’s office whilst holding a cup— of clean water this time. This time his and the plant’s interaction was less violent— if you called it an interaction at all. Harvey dumped the contents down the soil, and walked out with his nose in the air as if he’d left with a closed deal instead of an empty cup previously filled with plant water.
So maybe Harvey had decided to tolerate the abomination. That choice was quickly demolished by how attached Mike was to the cactus. The younger lawyer had gone so far as to take it to some botanist when the effects of Harvey’s secret attempt of poisoning it became evident.
He talked to it all the time, and Harvey had bore witness to some of their conversations. It was as if Mike had forgotten that he still had Harvey— an animate, and way more handsome human— and began to confide in prickles. The man didn’t want to admit it, but he missed hearing Mike going off on a tirade until his own back was slumped against the leather of his chair, and his eyes were drooping. He was being ridiculous— jealous of a succulent of all things. Then again, no human could ever compare with him.
Harvey leans against the doorway, and silently observes as Mike mumbles unintelligible words around a highlighter to the potted plant. Was it the always-open, and dead eyes? Did Harvey need to practice ghost blinking? Or maybe it was the ugly scarf. It certainly wasn’t the silence— Harvey had mastered that skill very well himself.
”Mike.” He breaks the chain of words emitted by Mike with a word, and still the lawyer doesn’t look at him. “What the hell are you trying to do?”
”What do you mean?” Mike asks— innocently, like he hadn’t been ignoring Harvey since the past.. thirty minutes. Why was Harvey even standing here so long? Had he become that desperate. “I’m working.”
”You’re.. talking at it.” Harvey refused to say its name out loud like even he had succumbed to the foolish thought that it could listen in on their conversation.
”Audrey?” Mike prompts, pointing a yellow cap at the lonely pot.
Harvey only hums, walking closer until his shirt was a hair-breadths distance away from Mike’s desk.
”Well, she’s a good listener.”
I’m a good listener, Harvey doesn’t say, because that was a lie. He preferred talking at people rather than hearing them explain, but that still didn’t mean Mike couldn’t talk to him.
”Why do you need someone to listen to you when you’re supposed to be working?” Harvey hadn’t meant to sound judgmental. He really hadn’t— it was just an instinct at this point.
He watches Mike squint his brilliant blue eyes, and winces in his own mind. Great now you’re crazy, and mad.
”Do you need something, Harvey?” Mike ignores his question. Rude, and two could play that game.
”It’s a plant, for God’s sake. I might’ve understood if you talked to a dog or something, but conversing with a green stick that sucks sunlight is..” How should he put this? “..weird.”
Okay. Not his strongest defence.
“I can talk to whatever I like.” Mike’s hand wraps around the brick red vase, and he drags it closer to himself. “And Audrey is just as much of a person as you are.”
Last time Harvey had looked into the five kingdoms of life, he hadn’t remembered being placed next to an ugly tube with spikes.
”I’m just saying if you want to talk to someone that bad, I can put up with your voice for a while.” Harvey really, and earnestly hopes Mike takes the fucking hint, and follows after him.
Of course he doesn’t.
”Yeah? Well I like talking.”
Harvey sucks in his bottom lip to avoid retorting with something he knew he’d absolutely regret later.
”To plants.” He sounds a bit like he’s grumbling.
Mike raises his head, and fixes Harvey with a stare that the older man was disappointed to admit was somewhat effective in making him falter— not outwardly though, but still. Low. Blow.
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes— a cartwheel of annoyance. “Talk to your.. plant friend, Arbutus.”
Harvey turns around, and leaves with his hands in the air.
“What the hell is this?” Harvey pokes the paper crown on Audrey’s puny head once more when he hears the telltale sound of Mike’s footsteps.
”None of your business. Oh my god, Harvey, what do you want?” Mike sighs, rubbing his brow like Harvey was the one being irrational here.
Talk to me again, Harvey thinks as he tries to find a subtle alternative to that thought.
”I miss you.” No, what?
”What?” Exactly, what?
Harvey shakes his head, clearing his throat. “Your plant is puking dirt everywhere. I can’t think.”
“Then leave.” Mike snaps.
”I will do whatever I damn wish.” Harvey frowns. Why was Mike angry?
“Well then there you have it.” Mike plops down onto his deskchair, and doesn’t fold his feet on the table. Huh. “If you can stand wherever you ‘damn’ wish, then I can talk to whoever I want.”
“Not when it isn’t a who, but a what.” Harvey says, crossing his arms. His feathers were ruffled, and he’d make sure to get every inch of the powder down in Mike’s hair. “I don’t get why you can’t just talk to me.”
The words are heavier than he expected, and linger between them like cloying perfume. Harvey stares back at Mike, as if looking hard enough might make Mike misinterpret his words, or even better, ignore them.
”I do talk to you.” Mike states quietly. “but you always—“
“Not how you used to.” Harvey sits on the edge of the desk, and stares at his folded hands. “You talk about cases, and stupid jokes that actually make sense. You don’t.. ramble— not to me at least.”
He sends the plant a dirty look.
”I thought you hated my rambling?” Mike asks rather than states, and his eyes crinkle at the corners like tiny frowns.
”I.. tolerate it.. sometimes.” Harvey says carefully as if not sure of his own preference. “You never used to care about that. You always kept talking even if I told you to shut up. What happened?”
Mike shrugs his shoulders— a jerky movement Harvey’s far too familiar with. Though he’d only seen it during smaller arguments.
”I guess.. I didn’t want to dump everything on you, besides Audrey’s.. she listens, and just..” His pen pokes one green arm.” “stands there.”
”I listen too.”
“And you interrupt.” Mike repeats his thoughts from days before. “You always interrupt.”
”So instead of telling me, you what? Buy an imaginary friend? You’re not five, Mike.”
”See! That,” Mike gestures wildly towards Harvey’s direction in a way that offends him the slightest, “is exactly what I’m talking about. You always have to joke around, or make a joke.”
“You were fine with it before.”
”That was when it didn’t happen every 86400 seconds of the day!”
Harvey didn’t ask why Mike knew the number of seconds in a day. He didn’t care about it at that particular moment. He scoffs, sharp, and humourless.
”Do you hear yourself? You’re choosing cactus over me!”
Mike purses his lips, and brushes a finger over Audrey’s arm. Harvey’s blood bubbles under his skin, and chases a sudden impulse up till his fingers until they shake.
”I’m not choosing anything. I just want something I say to be— for once— not a form of entertainment. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
”No, I won’t excuse you!” Harvey’s hand works of its own accord, and sweeps across the table. Big mistake.
The pot topples away from Mike’s recoiling finger and off the edge way too hard. Harvey didn’t even have to look to see that it had broken. The crash was loud enough in the creeping cold.
Shit. Oh shit. Harvey chances a peak— praying maybe something was salvageable— but nope. The poor plant was lying strewn across a trickle of dirt and shattered pieces of the pot.
He grimaces, and closes his eyes for a moment to breathe.
He could still fix this.
“Mike, I didn’t—“ Harvey opens his eyes, and looks at Mike. The sight of him looking so devastated until he ducked his head hurts. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident, damn it—“
“Leave.” There it was.
“It’s a fucking cactus—“
”I told you to leave, Harvey.”
”Listen to me, damn it—“
“No, I’ve had enough,” Mike’s next words reached a new volume, and he waves towards the door. “I’ve had enough of you being a fucking jerk. Get out!”
Harvey swallows down his pride— a hard feat— and looks at the man he’s never seen this side of before. The older lawyer contemplates arguing further, but one look at the deceased on the floor, and he retracts his words.
”Alright.” Harvey’s hands raise— first for murder, and now for peace. “I’m leaving.”
Mike hadn’t come to bed that night. Good.
It gave Harvey more time to search. His eyes were tinged red at the corners, and he could feel his cornea frying as he scrolled through the variety of cactus on his laptop. The clock ticked 2:40 am, and Harvey— a sensible man— hadn’t cared to look in its direction. He knew if he did, exhaustion would set in and he’d eventually have to go to sleep.
Why were there so many types of succulents??
Sedum, those were pretty.. but he’d have no space for the eyes, and the rag— scarf. Star cacti… those were perfect. The eyes would fit perfectly on top, and he’d wrap a handkerchief around its ’neck’ to seal the deal. They could name it ‘Audrey II’, and Mike would be happy again.
Everything would be fine.
With that soothing sentence, he snaps his laptop shut, and sets it aside. The atmosphere of the room was stifling without Mike’s quiet snores. Harvey couldn’t sleep even if he tried. Annoyingly enough, all he could think of was what Mike was doing.
Then he realised he could look for himself, and pushed the covers aside. Harvey did not shiver.
The man had seriously expected Mike to be pouting on the couch, and waiting for him to come and apologise. He hadn’t anticipated the puppy already dead in all ways other than breathing. Harvey watches him quietly, and reduces his steps to tip-toes until he’s crouching down in front of the couch, and at eye-level with Mike. He reaches out a hand to wave in front of his partner's shut eyes to confirm he was truly asleep, and hums to himself when Mike doesn’t even twitch.
Harvey’s hand brushes away the strands of Mike’s hair that were matted to his forehead by sleep, and bites the inside of his cheek, before ending internal conflict and kissing Mike’s brow.
”I’m sorry,” Harvey whispers in the space between them even though Mike wasn’t awake. Why he said it was precisely because Mike wasn’t awake. Harvey didn’t need to apologise, not with words at least. After he gave Mike ‘Audrey II’ the lawyer was bound to forgive him.
Harvey stands up to leave for his room, and grabs an extra blanket to drape over Mike once he returns. A snore answers him.
The older man smiles, and then returns to his own bed to toss and turn.
“What do you mean he won’t like it?” Harvey scoffs, placing the cactus down on his own desk. He hadn’t slept all night, and immediately when the clock struck five, was off with Ray to the botanist. The lawyer was buzzing with energy purely from coffee fumes, and could not— after many attempts— manage to sit still.
”Oh he’s going to love it.” Donna’s voice coincides next to him. One look in her direction had Harvey finding out she wasn’t even looking at him through the glass, just filing her nails.
“I just think he’d appreciate it more if you actually apologised.”
”I am apologising. The plant is an apology.” Harvey argues, adjusting the pot so it would be the first thing Mike saw when he entered. Donna only gives him one of her odd looks, and tuts while leaving. She doesn’t even close the door completely.
Harvey sits down on the deskchair, and almost opens his phone to check if Mike’s messaged him, but then places it back down when the reminder that his partner is still mad at him comes to mind. Harvey was never one to text someone first.
He would just have to do something productive until Mike visited— count… something. Not sheep, that would be too childish. Maybe just counting was a smart move. He leans back, crosses his fingers on his lap, and closes his eyes. Immediately numbers begin passing by…
1…
2…
3…
4…
…
..7200
Harvey lost count more than once. Where the hell was Mike? Even the caffeine in his blood had begun to dampen, but Harvey wouldn’t risk the chance of missing Mike’s arrival while trying to get coffee, because of course the lawyer would arrive. He always did, the alternative was unimaginable.. right?
Exactly.
He props his head up on his arms— an unspeakable action for someone as esteemed as him— and exhales out a prolonged sigh.
“What does he even see in you?” The man asks the cactus. That sounds like the start of a bad joke.
The cactus of course doesn’t say anything, but Harvey’s sure he didn’t imagine that eyeroll. He grabs the pot, and squints down at Audrey.
“What could you possibly have that he thinks I’m lacking?”
Yep. It was inevitable; Harvey Specter had finally gone insane. He pinches his eyebrows, and finally picks up his phone once more, and like waving a white handkerchief, types out a message.
Harvey: Mike
Mike: I’m working.
Harvey: You’re not at the condo
Mike: No
Harvey: Why didn’t you come see me?
Mike: I didn’t know I had to??
Harvey: You’re supposed to
Harvey: Come to my office.
Harvey: Mike?
Harvey stares at the three dots until they disappear. That was.. something… he never wanted to experience again.
“Your owner hates me.” He grumbles at the succulent while getting up slowly. The lawyer doesn’t look away even once from his phone like he was still waiting for an affirmation. The way to Mike’s office was quick, but Harvey took his time. If Mike wanted to be stubborn, he’d get stubborn in return.
”Knock knock.” Harvey taps his fingers against the glass, and enters without needing an answer to his non-question question. “Still in a bad mood?”
Mike looks up, and the first thing he looks at is Audrey II cradled in Harvey’s arms. From what Harvey could decipher, he looked shocked— for a moment— but then he just.. blanked out? He was still mad??
”No thank you’s?” Harvey places the pot down in front of Mike. “I got you the replacement, what more do you want?”
”I never asked for a replacement.” Mike answers clippingly, turning a page.
Harvey scowls, not at Mike, but at the sheer clusterfuck of it all.
”But you were mad.”
He watches Mike’s eyes narrow, and then soften at the corners like he’d finally taken some pity on Harvey, and decided that maybe offering some context would help. It would. A lot. Mike’s eyes turn back to the cactus, and Harvey’s disappointed to say, he didn’t look as happy as Harvey had expected him to be.
“I wasn’t mad at that, Harvey,” Mike says quietly, his tone cooler than usual. He rubs his fingers over the rough texture of the new plant’s pot, and not once do his eyes meet Harvey’s during this. “I was mad at you.”
Harvey crosses his arms, his impatience rising once more. He was already tired, and sore, and… well pissed off at everything this morning brought, and he despised being the object of someone’s disappointment when he hadn’t even done anything yet to deserve it. “I told you, I didn’t mean to knock it over,”
”You didn’t apologise.” Mike exhales, though despite how it should’ve released tension, his voice only tightened. He leans back against his deskchair and closes his eyes momentarily.
“Because it was an accident.” Harvey snaps to get Mike to look back at him again.
”Not about the cactus. About you. About us.” Mike counters.
Harvey stares at him, confused, then glances down at Audrey II.
“So, now there’s something wrong with us?” he scoffs, a sarcastic edge creeping into his tone. “What would that be, pray tell? Or are you going to sit there, and pout until I figure it out myself.”
”It’s actually very obvious.” Mike picks on the loose thread of his sleeve.
”Not to me, and despite what you may or may not think; I can’t read your mind, Mike,” Harvey throws his hands into the air, turning around frustratedly.
Mike sits there as mute as the pot he was fiddling with, and Harvey’s words crackle between them. His shoulders slump like silence had gathered into a heavy weight and settled on top.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Harvey’s face blanches, his mind stutters to static, and his hands fall back down. Threats, and ultimatums? He could deal with those in his sleep, but Mike didn’t sound threatening, he just sounded tired, and his words were like a breath held too long finally coming loose. Harvey couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have that at all.
”You can’t do that. I’m listening to you now, damn it.” Harvey almost pleads. He walks across the desk to turn Mike’s chair around. “I’m doing what you asked!”
Mike doesn’t even flinch, he only stares at Harvey like he was a fussy child who’d already been caught with his hand in the cookie jar one too many times.
“You don’t throw checks, and replacements on relationships, and expect them to be fine, Harvey. You wanna try so bad? Apologise.”
”For what?” Harvey repeats for the hundredth time, but still it seemed Mike didn’t get the memo. Why should he apologise?
”For hurting me.” Mike’s brow furrows, the first sign of emotion.
”Fine, I’m sorry.” Harvey says quickly like he wanted to just get the job down.
“You don’t even know what you apologised for.”
”Of course I do, you just told me.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t want to have to demand for your attention to be worthy of it. I want you to know you hurt me, and I want you to want to fix it, because you want to be better, not because I want you to be.”
”That doesn’t make sense.” The older lawyer scoffs.
“Of course it does,” Mike huffs, and the hand, that had been previously inching closer to Harvey’s arm, falls back down. His hair looks windswept, and Harvey has to picture his own hands on fire to not fix them. “You refuse to let it.”
”So what?” His hands cover the arms of Mike’s chair to brace himself, as he leans down to maintain eye-level. “Am I supposed to leave, and come back later spontaneously, and grovel?”
Mike’s eyes wander to Audrey II standing there, and witnessing all of this, and he shakes his head. The younger man’s eyes were bright, but not in a good way.
”You’re mocking me again.”
Harvey exhales painedly, and tilts his head to catch Mike’s straying gaze. “Because you’re not making any sense. Hell, you’re not being yourself.”
”So we can’t have emotional talks?” Mike mutters with a smile playing on his lips— a smile that felt like something was shrivelling inside Harvey the moment he saw.
“We never had to before.” He corrects.
”Oh please, that was because emotions are your anathema.” Mike scoffs.
”You chose me then,” Harvey frowns, and a prickling— no, a burning— sensation fills him, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Hell, he was sure it was there because he didn’t know what to do with it. “And you shouldn’t have expected me to change who I am just because of this.”
”What’s wrong with wanting to know you’re not bored of me, Harvey? To need to believe that you still love me?”
Harvey stands there with knuckles white as if he's trying to grasp on to the last bit of control he has over the frayed situation. The words he wants—needs— to say are caught somewhere between his chest and his throat, twisting into something bitter that makes his pulse race.
”I do love you,” He whispers, and he hates, hates, how insincere the words sound. For all his expertise in lying, he couldn’t say four words without sounding like he wanted to be anywhere but there. “I’m not bored of you, damn it.”
The mere thought of it was sickening.
”I can’t see that.” Mike whispers, and his features look so, so older than usual. “I want to, but I can’t.”
You don’t need to, Harvey doesn’t say, because he knows it wouldn’t help. One of his hands, now raw inside from blunt nails, rises until his knuckles are inches away from Mike’s cheek. He couldn’t bring himself to close the distance.
I’m sorry, he screams in his mind, and wonders why it’s so hard to say out loud, I’m so sorry.
“What do you want from me?” Harvey asks again, though this time he sounds like he needs an opening under the door, instead of a key. Just one hint that this all wasn’t about to slip from between his fingers.
“I need you to acknowledge the fact that we’re dating. That this isn’t some fling you can move on from; this is me, and you.” Mike’s voice was barely audible, but the words were like a hurricane in Harvey’s mind. An answer.
“Okay.” He murmurs, nodding immediately, and then stopping all at once so as to not seem overwhelming. “Okay, and?”
”Talk. Not about.. cases, about little things. Dinner, and— and..”
”Groceries?” Harvey supplies, but then shuts up with an apologetic hum, but Mike snorts, and then nods. The older man felt relief so strong that it threatened to send him overboard.
”Yeah, exactly.” Mike nods, and unsteady fingers rise to Harvey’s hand close to his face, and tug to break the barrier. Harvey’s knuckles unwind almost immediately to cup Mike’s cheek, and his lips pull up in a shadow of his usual cocky grin as though too much would shatter everything into unsalvageable pieces.
“We aren’t breaking up?” Harvey had to ask. For confirmation, of course, not because he was afraid or anything.
”Nope,” Mike pops the ‘p’ with a little smile. “I’ve decided to extend my suffering.”
”Until?” Harvey raises an eyebrow, and leans closer to breath in the same air as Mike’s, to relish in his forgiving warmth.
Mike shrugs. “I may need to consult with you on that. How long would you have me?”
”Forever.” Harvey says, not even a breath in between.
”Ouch.”
”Too cheesy?”
”Way too cheesy.”
Harvey huffs out a laugh, and leans down. A thought strikes between, and makes him still like a deer in the headlights. “Can I..?”
He didn’t want to assume that Mike would immediately be okay with kissing him. Especially not after a fight so extreme, it lasted days, and ended with them nearly breaking up—
Mike’s nod breaks through like sunlight after rain, and Harvey succumbs to the rays, covering his mouth with his own trembling— he wouldn’t admit that, not yet at least.
”I’m sorry,” Harvey whispers between kisses. Still too quiet, still too unsure, but it was out in the open, and unprotected.
“It’s fine.” Mike’s hand wraps around Harvey’s tie. “It’ll be fine.”
Nothing could ruin this, not even— well maybe if Louis walked in.. but would it really ruin the moment? To see the man’s face as he tried to decipher whether making out behind technically closed but still glass doors was allowed or not.
”Are we still keeping Audrey II?” Harvey’s eyes blink open.
“Yep. At the condo.” Mike grins though it was still a whisper of his usual smiles. ”We’re going to have watering duties from now on, and she’s going to have her own wardrobe filled with the best scarves.”
Harvey makes a face— too exaggerated— and kisses the corner of Mike’s mouth.
”Mhm. Anything.”
I love you.
”And more friends.”
“That’s pushing it.” Harvey scoffs, though he doesn’t sound too against it, and he knows Mike’s figured that out as well. “One more friend.”
”Five.”
”Three.”
”Two.”
”Deal.”
“And I’m still mad.”
”I’m sorry,” Harvey says, nudging his nose against Mike’s— a silly action to make him laugh. “I’ll try to make it up to you.”
”Good.”