Mike’s been testing his patience all night, teasing him, trailing his nimble little fingers up and down Harvey’s leg, nudging and stroking along Harvey’s inseam, his fly. He knows Harvey can’t do anything, won’t do anything - the little brat - not with the client and his wife sitting directly across the table from them, and he’s clearly enjoying himself, eyes sparkling as he answers Sophia Hall’s question.

Harvey cuts into his steak, reassures Jim Hall when he begins to relate his fear that his brother will delay the merger, spreads his legs a little wider when he feels Mike cup him. Out of the corner of his eye Harvey can see Mike’s mouth twitch, and he squeezes Harvey gently, presses his thumb down against Harvey’s thigh. When Jim and Sophia are called away, Mike gives Harvey’s cock a final squeeze before they stand, offer their hands to shake, present more assurances.

Harvey watches them walk out, wipes his mouth with his napkin, walks off toward the bathroom.

He knows Mike will follow.

Harvey leans toward the mirror, watches as Mike walks into the bathroom behind him, watches as he locks the door behind them, his eyes glued to Harvey’s. Mike walks up behind him slowly, reaches his hand out to slide under Harvey’s jacket, and Harvey spins, grabs Mike, bends him over the sink.

Mike looks up at him through his lashes, their eyes meeting in the mirror, and Harvey reaches a hand underneath Mike, unbuckles his belt, shoves his pants and boxers down until they’re swimming around his ankles, puddled on the floor. Harvey gives Mike’s ass a light slap, smirks at Mike’s yelp, rucks up his shirt before he unzips his pants and pulls his cock free. He grabs Mike’s hips, pulls his ass back against him, laughs softly at Mike’s moan.

“Harvey, please.”

Harvey leans forward, nips at Mike’s ear.

Mike drops a hand to take himself in hand and Harvey swats it away, grasps it, plants it firmly on the counter. Mike drops his head on the counter. Groans.

“That’ll teach you to tease.”