My love for writing brotherly love one-shots has increased since Suits doesn't come back on until Summer. So instead of posting multiple stories, I'm just going to post them under one. This will consist of all different types of one-shots.
I don't own Suits, but I do own a heart that loves it.
"Please let me go with you!" Mike Ross begged of his boss, Harvey Specter. The younger lawyer had pleaded with the older man, tried every bargaining chip he held, every trick in the book, besides getting down on his knees. He was contemplating doing just that when he saw Harvey stand up from his desk, buttoning his suit jacket as he prepared to leave.
"For the seventy-third and final time, no. You can not come. You're not ready, yet. So hold on to the ounce of pride and dignity you still have, and DO NOT get down on your knees and beg me, because it will only prove my reasoning for leaving you behind in the first place."
Mike made a disbelieving sound and held his arm out to the side. "Harvey! In the last week, I've been at home for a grand total of eleven hours, and six of those hours I was still hunched over paperwork, trying not to spill stale chinese takeout on them! All the other hours of the week, I've been here! I had to hook up a tiny fan at my cubicle and put one of those tree-shaped air fresheners around it to make myself feel like I was getting fresh air, other wise my suffocated corpse would be rotting under my desk right now and no one would notice until Harold realized that putting on half a bottle of cheap cologne actually has the opposite effect!"
Harvey rolled his eyes and walked to the door. "Mike." Harvey said, turning to face his associate one last time. His tone was exasperated, but it sounded as if was about to pride Mike for his hard work. Mike looked at him with anticipation.
"I found soy sauce stains on three pages of the Reid briefs. You're staying here." Harvey opened the door and stepped out, but turned around. "If you're not here when I get back, I'll make sure you don't leave this building for the next two weeks."
With that, Harvey closed his office door and left to go to his client meeting, leaving a starving, sleep-deprived associate with cabin (more like Pearson Hardman) fever.
Mike had been reading files for three hours straight and his eyes were starting to cross. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pinched the bridge of his nose. He leaned back on the couch in Harvey's office, which he convinced Donna to let him sit there about an hour ago by telling her that he was going to ride his bike into a busy street the moment he was able to leave, if he didn't get away from the other associates.
He closed his eyes, only for a second, he was sure. But when he opened his eyes, he wondered how Harvey managed to appear so fast.
Harvey exited the elevator and walked around the corner, greeting Donna as he reached her desk. She greeted him, not taking her eyes off her computer until Harvey cleared his throat.
"Yes?" She asked deadpanned.
"Why is Mike asleep on my couch?" He asked, staring into his office.
Donna looked back to see Mike in a dead like sleep, then turned back to Harvey. She tilted her head to the side and smiled a devious smile.
"Why are you holding a pizza box when you just came from a five-star restaurant?"
Harvey didn't even acknowledge her question. Instead, he walked into his office, walked over to the couch and dropped the steaming box of pizza onto Mike's sleeping form, getting the desired rude awakening he was aiming for.
Mike jumped and sat straight up, the pizza box sliding to the floor, but thankfully not spilling out. He sat down at his desk and watched Mike rub a hand through his hair and rub the sleep out of his eyes. Mike looked at him, but he waited until the younger man's eyes widened in realization before speaking.
"Have a nice nap?"
"Uhhh...I closed my eyes for a second. I swear, I just-"
"Yeah, I get it." Harvey replied cutting off the excuses. He watched as Mike pick up the pizza box and set it on his lap, eyeing it suspiciously.
"It is pizza and you eat it." Harvey said slowly, as if Mike didn't speak English.
"No shit, Sherlock. How did it get here?" Mike asked, lifting up the lid.
"Elementary, my dear Watson." Harvey smirked. "I brought it."
Mike's mouth hung open in shock, though his eyes were still glued to the pizza. He picked a slice up and took a bite. He made a deliciously, satisfied noise as he chewed, but stopped short in his marvel as he eyed the crust.
"It's stuff-crust!" He exclaimed, happily. He looked at Harvey for the first time since opening his pizza. "I love you." He stated his fraternal love and gratefulness, then took a bite out of the crust and marveled at its deliciousness.
Harvey rolled his eyes at his associate, but couldn't help but smile. He would never admit it, but Mike deserved at least his favorite pizza for all his hard work. He started making notes on one of the files he was reading over, but suddenly had a thought. Without looking up, he warned, "If you get pizza sauce on my couch, I'll break your fingers."
He didn't hear a response, but he heard movement. Without moving his head, he raised his eyes to look at his associate, who was looking at the spot on the couch beside him then moved over an inch in its direction. He looked back up and noticed Harvey looking at him. Mike tried to place an innocent expression on his face, but Harvey saw right through it, knowing full well his warning had been too late. Harvey just shook his head and sighed.
Two minutes later, he noticed Mike was still eating pizza and he eyed the box. Counting the remaining pieces, which didn't take long since there was only three left, he stood up from his desk, pulled something from a bag beside his desk and walked over to Mike. He saw the younger man shrink back into the couch as he stood over him and laughed, before tossing an apple at his associate and grabbing up the pizza box taking it away from Mike.
"Wha'?" Mike asked in disbelief.
"Earlier today, you complained that you were practically starving to death. Now that I have fed you, I refuse to be the reason you die of a heart attack in the next month by letting you eat whole stuff-crust extra-cheese pizzas for dinner. Eat that damn apple, before Donna comes in here and chews my ass out."
Mike glared at him.
"I'm perfectly healthy, thank you very much."
"Yes, I can see that by the dark circles under you eyes, the fact that you fell asleep at one in the afternoon, the way you ate a box of pizza like you were in an eating contest and Donna's morning greeting of "Good morning, Harvey. Here's your mail. Oh, and another one of Mike's ribs is showing through his shirt today, three more and the firm is going to start a foundation for him." Harvey titled his head to the side with an expression on his face that said 'Tell me I'm wrong.'
"Okay, okay. I get it!" Mike said, tossing his apple up in the air and catching it like he usually does with the baseball on Harvey's desk. "You care."
"No." Harvey stated as if he truly didn't. "I brought you that pizza, so the next time you try to beg me for something and say I owe you one, because I left you behind when I went to a client meeting, I'll remind you that I bought you dinner."
"Like that makes up for being stuck here all day, hunched over paperwork." Mike retorted as he stood up, but twisted his face in thought, then looked back at Harvey. "No, actually it kinda does. I don't feel lightheaded or dizzy anymore when I stand up. So yeah, it did make up for it."
Harvey shook his head and pushed Mike back down on the couch.
"Eat your damn apple and go back to sleep. I don't have time to visit you in the hospital or plan your funeral."
Mike watched Harvey leave the office to retrieve a file from Jessica, and smiled to himself.
Harvey definitely cares.
AN: Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! :)