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As Harvey slid into the car, he tipped his head back against the seat with a groan. He heard Mike slide into the seat next to him, and pull the door shut. Without looking, Harvey knew his partner was watching him. Harvey didn’t acknowledge him, continuing to ride in silence for several minutes. That is, until he broke the silence with an obnoxiously loud sneeze, followed by a round of coughing.
“God damnit, this sucks,” Harvey wheezed once the coughing had subsided. Mike gave him a sympathetic look.
“We’ll be home soon. Then you can wallow around in your misery all weekend.”
A lesser man would’ve withered under Harvey’s glare, but Mike just smiled and covered Harvey’s hand on the seat between them. Harvey sniffled loudly and turned to lean his head against the window.
Ray pulled the car to a stop at the curb in front of Harvey’s building. Mike was out of the car and opening Harvey’s door before he could even manage to fight his way out of the seat belt. Mike offered Harvey a hand, but Harvey brushed past him, not acknowledging the fact that he stumbled over the curb. He heard Mike thanking Ray before shutting the car door.
Harvey was already pushing his way into the lobby of their building when Mike caught up with him. The elevator ride up to their floor took an eternity. Harvey leaned against the wall, Mike standing close enough to brush his shoulder.
After fumbling around with his keys, pushing away Mike’s hands when he offered to help, Harvey finally made his way into the condo. Mike made his way to the kitchen, depositing the bag from the pharmacy onto the counter. Harvey had collapsed unceremoniously onto the couch, reaching up to loosen the tie that hung at his throat.
Mike chuckled as he approached. Of course Harvey was the kind of person who would wear a suit and tie to the doctor’s office.
“You feeling okay?” Mike asked as her perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing the lump that was Harvey face down on the sofa.
“I feel like hammered shit,” Harvey said, and then sniffled pitifully into the pillows.
“Gross, snot monster,” Mike teased, leaning over to soothe a hand down Harvey’s back. Harvey flipped him off, but it lacked the usual enthusiasm, so Mike wasn’t offended.
“Why don’t you go get in the shower? I’ll heat up dinner.”
Harvey groaned a response, and Mike laughed as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Harvey’s exposed temple and then made his way back into the kitchen.
The hot shower left Harvey feeling sleepy and boneless. He shuffled into the kitchen, wearing a sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants. Mike was already sitting at the table, flipping through that morning’s newspaper. Harvey slumped into a chair next to him, bringing his head down to the glass surface of the table.
“I think I’m dying,” Harvey wheezed.
Mike huffed, “You have the flu, Harvey. I’m thinking your odds of survival are pretty good.” Mike folded the newspaper in front of him and then reached over to brush his fingers through his partner’s still damp hair. Heat was radiating off Harvey’s skin. “You’re still running a pretty good fever,” he said as his fingers continued their ministrations.
Harvey just sniffled and turned his head towards Mike, the side of his face still laying on the table.
“Come on, lets get some food in you so you can take drugs and go to bed,” Mike said as he stood from the table and walked over to where a pot simmered on the stove. Harvey grumbled as he left, “Can we just skip straight to the bed part?”
Mike laughed from where he was, sticking bread and cheese in the toaster over. “Normally, I’m all for skipping straight to bed with you. But I’m thinking tonight we should stick to the schedule.” He tossed a cheeky glance over his shoulder at Harvey, who was glaring at him over the breakfast counter.
A few minutes later Mike set two bowls of tomato soup, courtesy of the amazing Donna, and grilled cheese sandwiches on the table. Harvey picked all the crust off one of his sandwich triangles and dunked it in the soup. Mike just shook his head and took a spoonful of his own soup.
Mike cleared his own dishes from the table while Harvey was swirling what was left of his soup around the bowl with his spoon. Walking back to the table, Mike placed a pill and a cup of cough syrup on the table next to Harvey. “Here, stop playing with your food. Drugs, then bed.” He bused the dishes from the table.
Harvey tossed the pill back with the water Mike had left, and then gulped the cough syrup down. Mike was back just in time to see Harvey pull a disgusted face at the taste.
“Yeah. Never liked the stuff either,” Mike said with a smirk as he took the empty cup from Harvey’s fingers and tossed it into the kitchen sink. “Ready for bed?”
Harvey didn’t respond, just pushed away from the table and wheezed his way towards the bedroom. Mike finished tidying up the kitchen before following him. He shucked his clothes into the laundry hamper, and then pulled on shorts and a t-shirt.
Harvey had already burrowed under the covers, the only part of him visible was a shock of dark hair against the pillow. Mike flicked the lights off, and then slid under the covers next to Harvey’s prone form. He reached over to scrub his hand through Harvey’s hair again.
“Sorry your feeling shitty,” Mike murmured into the dark. Harvey just hummed in response. They sat like that for a few minutes, until Harvey had to sit up for a coughing fit that left him sputtering. Mike winced in sympathy when Harvey collapsed back into his pillow, panting through an open mouth.
“I seriously fucking hate this,” Harvey whined into the dark. Mike reached out and rubbed Harvey’s shoulder, “I know you do, but it should only be a few days. You’ll be back to scaring people at the office in no time.”
Harvey didn’t seem to catch on to Mike’s teasing, he just brushed Mike’s hand off of him and tossed around under the blankets. “You shouldn’t even be here, you’re gonna get sick.”
Mike gave him a smug look, “Unlike someone, I actually get my flu shot every year.”
Harvey groaned, finally settling into a position on his side, with his head propped up on the pillows. He was facing away from Mike, who was now gently kneading his neck. “Don’t worry about me. Just try to get some sleep, okay?”
Harvey sighed under the touch, sniffled again, before slowly drifting into a fitful sleep.
Barely thirty minutes later, Mike had just began to doze when he heard Harvey shuffle under the blanket. A sniffle in the darkness, and then more shuffling. Silence for a few seconds more, than another sniffle and Harvey was tossing and turning again. Another sniffle, this time much more loudly, followed by an ugly coughing fit.
“Harvey?” Mike said as he sat up in the bed. Harvey’s form was perched on the edge of the mattress, doubled over his knees. When the coughing finally subsided, Harvey choking himself into deep, labored breaths, he let himself fall backwards onto the mattress. His head landing on the blankets right at Mike’s hip. He groaned and covered his face with is hands.
“This is most miserable shit in the world,” Harvey grumbled into his hands, “I can’t even sleep.” Mike didn’t have the heart to tease him about being whiny, he just smoothed the hair back from his sweaty forehead a few times.
“Come on then,” Mike said with a sign, turning to push himself out of bed, “We’ll a put a movie on for a little while.” Harvey only protested a little when Mike rounded to his side of the bed a pulled him to his feet.
He shuffled into the living room in Mike’s wake, plopping down onto one end of the sofa and curling into a ball as Mike got the TV set up with a movie. As the opening scene of The Italian Job played across their big screen, Mike rounded up some blankets and tossed one over Harvey, then settled down on the opposite arm of the couch.
A few minutes passed by, the only sounds in the room were Harvey’s stuffy breathing over the sounds of the movie. Mike felt him shift around and glanced over at him. Harvey was looking sheepishly at Mike out of the corner of his eye.
“What?” Mike said, glancing around for the reason Harvey was looking at him like that. Harvey dropped his eyes to the blanket covering his legs.
“Could we…? I mean, just for a little while...”
Mike’s face cracked into a barely contained grin. Without a word, he shifted himself on the couch so he was stretched the length of the cushions, laying on his back. Simultaneously, he had latched onto one of Harvey’s arms and pulled him down to his chest, Harvey on his side pressed between Mike and the back cushions of the couch.
Harvey curled into Mike’s chest, all but nuzzling (And Harvey Specter does not nuzzle) into Mike’s t-shirt. Despite the heat radiating from Harvey, Mike tugged the blanket up over both of them before settling in. Mike’s hand started drifting up and down Harvey’s side, and he pressed a kiss into the top of Harvey’s head.
“Is this better?” Mike asked into Harvey’s hair after a few minutes. When he didn’t receive an answer, he pulled back to get a look at Harvey’s face. And there, one hand loosely fisted into Mike’s t-shirt, was the great and powerful Harvey with his face pressed into Mike’s chest, dead asleep.
Mike was let the warm feeling of affection wash over him. He tugged the blanket a little higher on Harvey’s shoulders, and wrapped his arms around him a little tighter. Then he closed his eyes, and drifted off to the flickering light of the TV and the soft sounds of Harvey snoring against him.