Originally, I had intended this to be full-on, detailed smut, porn, whatever you want to call it. I don't quite know how it ended up like this, but I guess it's more of a tease, more of the little details that I always love to write. I hope you still enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Suits.

Late nights are when it's desperate: when there's open mouthed kisses and teeth on lower lips. There's hands tearing off clothes and then the steps - one, two, three and the soft thud of Mike's back hitting the wall. There's the faint scent of scotch on Harvey's breath and the ghost of tiredness in Mike's eyes, but the tiredness fades as Harvey's hands become playful and his lips become even more devilishly tempting than they have been all evening.

Harvey would take pleasure in making Mike his. He would take pleasure in those blue eyes looking up at him, through long lashes, the smile, the ghost of arousal always floating in the blue. Harvey would grin, pull Mike close with a sudden tug on the collar and watch the little glitter of shock dance in Mike's eyes before the haze of lust settled again.

He would also take pleasure in the little sounds Mike would make. The whimpers as Harvey's hands curled around his hips and bringing him close, just before their lips met. The gasps of pleasure as his head fell back and Harvey sucked a love bite on his neck, and the ground out groans of desire as he was pushed up against the closest hard surface and rid of his every last piece of clothing. It wasn't just the small noises of pleasure that Mike made that Harvey luxuriated in, but the long, drawn out moans of pleasure. It was the hot, breathy cries of Harvey's name accompanied with nails scratching down his back and it was the strings of incoherent words that could only be described as filthy. The words would pour into Harvey's ears; becoming dirtier with each thrust of his hips and each kiss to fevered skin.

Harvey's voice in Mike's ear is like warm silk. Smooth, undeniably sensual. His words would make Mike ache with desire. His whispered words would crawl over Mike's skin, making him shudder in a way Harvey loved. Harvey would clear his voice softly in Mike's ear, quietly, easily, demanding silence so he could speak and then he would continue his torrent of teasing words that would trickle through Mike's body slowly and make him moan.

Harvey enjoys dominance. He enjoys pressing Mike back until Mike could do little else but look into his eyes and wind his arms up around Harvey's shoulders. He loved to feel Mike's breathing hitch under his wandering lips, to feel a pulse point beat a little quicker under scraping teeth and soothing tongue. He adored seeing Mike on his knees in front of him; with that soft, teasing smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He would give orders, but Mike knew - and he knew - that this would stop if it ever went too far. Mike obeyed, but only because he wanted to, not because Harvey made him. He was his boss at work, if they played around with submission at home, then it was because of mutual desires and curiosities that just screamed to be explored.

Harvey would have Mike in many, many different ways. He loved using his ties on Mike, deeming the skinny ties not good enough, even for bondage. He liked watching Mike's eyes flutter closed as wide silk ties bound his wrists together, or to the bed posts. He liked seeing Mike shift from side to side, trying to get his bearings, when he used a tie as a blindfold. Mike's other senses would heighten when Harvey requested he cover his eyes. Suddenly, the taste of Harvey on his lips would become far more intense. When Harvey ran feather-light fingertips across his body, goosebumps would rise involuntarily, Mike's breath catching with every touch.

Mike, too, loved Harvey being possessive; or more possessive than usual. His heart would pick up just that little bit when he was pushed against the wall, or thrown backwards onto the bed, Harvey's thigh pushing snugly in between his thighs and hands coming to brace on either side of his head. He loved it when Harvey stripped him of his clothes - both claiming him as his own and taking care of him at the same time. To feel Harvey's breath ghosting over his bare shoulders as his hands slid down and over his hips was perfect, anticipation always building low in his stomach and leaving him hard and begging for Harvey's attention after just a moments of teasing lips on exposed flesh.

He loved to watch Harvey strip himself out of his own clothes, his eyes eating up the inches of tanned skin just waiting to be touched. Harvey knew he liked it and took his time, button after button and layer after layer, he would kill Mike with the simplest of movements, leaving him groaning without so much as a touch. Harvey knew him, knew what he liked, and although he gave orders and took Mike with rough kisses and dug in fingers, each movement was measured, making sure that Mike would climax - arching backwards in Harvey's arms - exactly when he wanted to.

Harvey would always kiss his bruises left by restraints or too hard teeth afterwards. His tongue would run the length of dark love bits left on Mike's neck as his fingertips disappeared beneath warm sheets to find any aching points on Mike's body and soothe them better with slow circles. His hands would become flat and sweep across Mike's pale back, across his ass, over his sides and his low, rumbling voice would say, "Good boy," as Mike fell asleep in his arms.