Chapter Text
In all his years as a dom, Harvey had never felt the stronger urge to put someone over his knee as he did with Mike. Every time he got mouthy, every time he did something stupid, every time he put himself in danger, every time he acted reckless, the urge to smack some sense into his bottom grew.
That boy was the perfect mix of lippy, smart, witty, and bratty, and he knew exactly which buttons to push. He perfectly toed the line between being a smartass and being disrespectful, and it was almost endearing, if not amusing.
For all his eagerness to please, Mike was about as bratty as a brat could get. No one had ever been able to keep up with his intelligence, to challenge him, to handle him, to reel him in and ground him, and that had landed him in a lot of trouble in his life.
Harvey prided himself on being able to read people, and he could tell that Mike needed a firm hand. He didn’t miss the way Mike’s ears perked up whenever he’d praise him, or his self-destructive tendencies, or his lack of impulse control. Mike needed someone else to take control he was practically begging for it, and Harvey was happy to be that person for him.
After Mike’s first spanking, they’d dedicated a whole night to discussing and negotiating the rules. They talked about Harvey’s expectations and his role as Mike’s dom, punishment, and safewords, all of which had turned out to be quite fun as Mike took it upon himself to go all Lawyer Mode.
Ultimately, he left a lot of it up to Mike’s decision—to what extent he wanted Harvey to take control—although he suspected that Mike didn’t actually want much of a choice, which was fine by him. He’d told Harvey that he “trusted him completely”, and that he wanted it, even if it meant that he’d have trouble sitting comfortably more often than not.
Despite their new dynamic, nothing had really changed between them. Mike continued to challenge him at work, continued the banter, and the teasing, and the playfulness, and Harvey loved it—except, he was now content with the knowledge that he was truly able to take care of Mike and bring him back down to Earth when he needed to.
Mike had been good, for the most part, although Harvey hadn’t been particularly strict with him. Harvey didn’t want to scare him off or overwhelm him, knowing that this was his first foray into anything like this, but he could tell that Mike was growing restless. He’d spent the whole week testing Harvey, pushing limits and boundaries to see what he could get away with, and Harvey knew exactly what he was doing.
He’d been letting Mike get away with it, letting the attitude, the challenging looks of defiance, and the little acts of disobedience slide, but it was time to prove that he can and will reel him back in.
See, Mike had been particularly snippy all day.
Harvey knew the Lola Jensen case was taking a toll on him. The threat of exposure left Mike on edge, and while Harvey understood why he was acting out, it sure as hell didn’t give him the right to be disrespectful.
Despite Harvey’s countless attempts to reassure Mike that Jerome Jensen wouldn’t actually pull the trigger that would send his entire career as a fake lawyer crumbling down before his eyes, he wasn’t listening to him—(“I don’t really care how it’d go,” he’d whined when he suggested backing off, earning himself a sharp, first warning).
With the Mazlo case simultaneously going on, Harvey hadn’t been able to help him with his case—or give him much attention, for that matter—which he suspected was part of the problem.
In an attempt to soothe Mike’s nerves, Harvey had called him into his office, hoping that spending time together and working on a different case would help calm him down. Besides, he did work better with Mike by his side.
When Mike had made his way into his office, Harvey could tell that he was still tense and uneasy. Before he was able to say anything, Mike rushed out franctically, “You said Jerome wouldn't pull the trigger. You were wrong. He's ready.”
“I don't have time for that right now,” Harvey muttered. Although he wanted nothing more than to pull his boy into his arms and protect him and reassure him forever, Jessica was on his ass about the Mazlo case and he couldn’t afford to waste another minute on Lola Jensen and her bullshit threats.
He just wished Mike trusted him enough to believe him.
“Harvey, when the police show up at Lola's doorstep, we're done,” Mike said, his brows furrowed as he paced around the office restlessly.
“Has she distributed the money yet?” Harvey asked calmly.
“No, she hasn't, but she's—”
“She hasn't, and she won't,” Harvey said resolutely, his voice steady but also gentle in hopes of putting Mike at ease (although his previous attempts clearly didn’t work). “Trust me, Mike, what she wants is her daddy’s attention. Now sit down with me and let’s deal with this case,” Harvey commanded, knowing that the direct order would help him.
Mike looked at him almost disbelievingly, looking like he was about to protest, but obeyed nonetheless. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Why don't you tell me what you need?” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm and a mix of annoyance as he sat down next to where Harvey was seated on the couch.
Harvey’s eyes snapped up, locking onto Mike’s with a sharp intensity. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, sending Mike a clear warning look. The air around them thickened as Harvey held his challenging gaze, but it didn’t last—Mike’s resolve faltered, and his eyes dropped, a quiet act of submission that Harvey acknowledged with the faintest twitch of a satisfied smirk before he looked away.
That’s right.
“Mazlo was in Liechtenstein the day that Lucille's endowment evaporated,” Harvey explained, filling Mike in on the details of the case.
“Maybe he was skiing,” Mike replied dryly, the faintest hint of humor in his tone.
Harvey snorted. “Nobody goes to Liechtenstein for pleasure.”
“Why don't we subpoena the bank records?” Mike suggested. Good. He was thinking, which meant his mind was at least preoccupied with this case rather than Lola Jensen. “How many banks can there be?”
“Place is like Switzerland on steroids. We'll never see those records,” Harvey sighed, staring tiredly at the documents scattered on the table.
“So what the hell do you want from me, then?” Mike finally snapped, his jaw clenching in frustration. Harvey looked at Mike incredulously, the faintest flicker of disbelief passing over his face before his expression hardened into a stern look.
Alright. If Mike wanted to test him, Harvey wasn’t going to disappoint.
Harvey didn’t react at first, knowing that was exactly what Mike was looking for. When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously low, “What did you just say to me?” The shift was palpable, the authority in his tone impossible to ignore, and the effect on Mike unmistakable.
Based on the way Mike quickly averted his eyes and the way his lips quivered, Harvey could tell he knew he was close to crossing a line.
A few beats passed and it was dead silent. Harvey’s hand snaked up to Mike’s knee, squeezing firmly in a warning to tread carefully. The silence stretched between them, building like a slow, rolling wave, punctuated by the sound of Mike’s heavy and shallow breaths.
Mike swallowed hard, looking almost like a kicked puppy as Harvey’s eyes burned into the side of his head, but he continued nonetheless. “I once suggested that we hack Harvard's records to cover my ass, and you laughed at me. And now it turns out that you were wrong, and it's about to cost me my career.”
Pushing himself up abruptly, Mike shot to his feet, his footsteps deliberate and bordering on childish. Harvey watched with quiet amusement as Mike stomped toward the door, suppressing a smirk at the display of petulance.
“Where are you going?” Harvey questioned, silently daring him to take another step. His voice was low and steady, carrying a deliberate calmness and an edge sharp enough to make Mike freeze in place. Truth be told, he wasn’t really upset—at least not yet—but Harvey had enough experience to know what Mike was doing and that he needed this.
Oh, he knew a brat in action when he saw one, alright.
“You told me to fix my case. Why don't you fix yours?” Mike spat, scowling.
Harvey almost couldn’t believe the audacity of that boy. He raised an eyebrow, his lips pressed into a thin, disbelieving line as he leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed sharply on Mike.
“Mike,” he said, his voice eerily calm. “Sit down.” Harvey didn’t raise his voice, his expression cool and measured, although the tight set of his jaw betrayed the simmering frustration beneath.
Instead of sitting down, Mike shot back a flippant, “No thank you.” Tilting his chin up defiantly, his lips curled into an almost innocent smile as he met Harvey’s piercing gaze, eyes twinkling with quiet mischief.
Oh, Mike was definitely in for it now.
“I’m only going to say this one more time,” he said, firmer this time, crossing his arms over his chest, “Sit down. Now.” As amusing as Harvey found the little display of defiance his boy was putting on, his patience was running thin.
Again, Mike pointedly chose not to sit down—though, he probably should be doing that while he still had the chance because he sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting comfortably for the next few days.
“Bad choice, baby boy,” Harvey said, standing up from his seat and closing the space between them in just a few strides. Mike looked like he was about to run away, but Harvey was quick to grab Mike’s jaw firmly. “Unless you want me to bend you over my knee and spank you right here right now, I suggest you stop fighting me and start listening to me,” he muttered lowly.
Harvey watched satisfiedly as Mike’s bravado slowly faltered. A shaky exhale escaped him, his shoulders trembling slightly as his eyes dropped to the floor. With all the earlier defiance drained from his body, it left him looking every bit like the naughty boy he was standing in front of his dom.
His grip on Mike’s chin only tightened, tipping it up and forcing him to meet his eyes. “You wanted to see just how far you can push, well, now you know, Mike,” Harvey continued.
“I…” Mike opened and closed his mouth, trying to find something to say. Eventually, he settled on a pout that would’ve been adorable if he wasn’t being a huge brat right now.
(Okay, fine… maybe it was still cute.)
“I know what you were doing, baby,” Harvey said, his expression softening, “if you need proof that I care enough to reel you back in when you misbehave, then I won't hesitate to show you, Mike.”
He needed Mike to know that he wasn’t going to get away with it the same way he got away with smoking weed, cheating on the LSATs, and living recklessly. That someone was there to catch him when he fell, that someone would stop him if he went too far, that someone cared enough—whether it be to correct his behavior, to hold him accountable, or to draw a boundary.
Harvey could almost see the relief that washed over Mike’s face whether or not he wanted to admit it. “I wasn’t—”
“You weren’t provoking me? Looking for a reaction? Acting like a brat the whole week to see what I would do?” Harvey questioned, cutting him off and raising an eyebrow.
A blush crept onto his cheeks, his silence speaking volumes.
“Are you… gonna punish me?” Mike sighed, looking very much like he knew the answer to that. Harvey didn’t blame him for taking his chances, though.
Harvey gave him a pointed look. “You trying to tell me that wasn’t your goal, baby boy?” he teased, patting Mike’s ass gently, silently cursing the damn glass walls of his office
“I—Well…” Mike trailed off. “Not exactly?”
“Well, that doesn’t erase the fact that you were being disrespectful,” Harvey pointed out, tilting his head.
“Sorry, Harvey,” Mike apologized sheepishly.
Harvey hummed in acknowledgment. It wasn’t going to be that easy, alright. “Good, because you’re coming home with me tonight and I’ll spank that naughty bottom of yours nice and red, just the way you’ve been begging me to.”
“Harvey!” Mike protested, squirming at his words and growing an impossible shade of red.
(Yeah, about as red as his butt will be.)
Harvey only smirked, sitting back down on the couch. “Nope, none of that,” he chided gently. “We’ll deal with that later. Now, are you going to help me with this case or not?”
Mike huffed, pouting, but reached for the file anyway. “Yes, Sir.”
A warmth spread through Harvey’s chest at the honorific, pleasantly surprised to hear it again after it had slipped during that initial spanking.
This boy was going to be the death of him.
* * *
“Do you haaaave to?” Mike whined, making himself at home as Harvey locked the door to his condo behind them. “Don’t you just wanna like… cuddle on the couch and order Chinese or something?”
Harvey laughed at Mike’s attempts at getting out of his punishment. As much as Harvey wanted to just let him off the hook and cuddle him, he knew Mike needed this. He needed to feel secure and safe and loved, and he’d pushed his limits today in order to know where the line was.
“We can cuddle on the couch and order Chinese after you’ve been punished,” Harvey said, grabbing Mike by the wrist and leading him toward the couch.
As expected, Mike pouted again, letting himself be dragged over to the couch. Harvey pulled him into his lap, cuddling him as requested but also slipping into a more serious mood.
“I get that you were stressed with the Lola situation, but I told you time and time again that she wouldn’t do anything,” Harvey started, mindlessly rubbing Mike’s back. “You pushed to see if I’d do anything about your behavior because you wanted to know where the line is.”
Mike visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping as he leaned into Harvey’s touch. “Well, you’re my boy now, and I’ll be here to keep you in line, which is why I’m gonna punish you.”
“I… Yes, Sir,” Mike said, grimacing but agreeing anyway. His voice sounded suspiciously raspy.
Harvey planted a soft kiss on Mike’s forehead before instructing him to stand up.
“Pants down,” he ordered, and Mike’s eyes went comically wide.
“Pants down?” Mike repeated almost disbelievingly—understandably so. His last spanking had started over his pants, although Harvey typically spanked bare from the start. He wanted to ease Mike into it by starting on his boxers this time.
Harvey nodded firmly. “If I have to tell you again, you’ll lose your boxers too,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
At that, Mike scrambled to unbutton his pants, unzipping them and pushing them down. He stepped out of them, fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for further instruction.
Harvey grasped his arm and guided Mike over his lap so that his weight was supported by the couch, watching as he shifted around and settled down. He could feel Mike’s chest rising up and down in what was probably nervous anticipation with the way their bodies were pressed so closely together.
The intimacy and closeness were some of the things that Harvey loved about a spanking. The absolute trust Mike had to have to be laying ass up over his lap like this, vulnerable and ready to surrender to whatever punishment he’d mete out, made his heart swell. Best of all, he’d be able to comfort and take care of Mike after it was over.
How did he get so lucky?
Pushing all the gooey feelings to the side, Harvey rubbed his hands along Mike’s back, fingers mindlessly tracing his spine. His hands made their way down his back and to Mike’s ass, kneading his boxer-clad flesh.
Harvey could tell Mike was growing antsy, the anticipation of what was to come growing as his hand stilled over Mike’s butt.
Just when he felt Mike’s body go lax over his lap, Harvey raised his hand and brought it down with a resounding smack. Mike sucked in a sharp breath as Harvey landed another swat on his other cheek.
Harvey started off slow, peppering Mike’s bottom with steady but sharp smacks. He alternated cheeks, raising his hand high and letting it fall with determination. Mike was wriggling already, but a hard smack to his upper thigh quickly settled him down.
Hooking his free hand around Mike’s waist, Harvey upped the ante. The swats quickened, set on the task of warming Mike’s butt up and leaving him with not so much as a second to catch his breath.
He was determined to get his message across.
It didn’t take a long time for Mike to start whimpering at every swat, squirming and twisting his body desperately out of the line of fire but to no avail. “Owww,” Mike whined, a soft, involuntary whimper escaping his lips.
Harvey moved his free hand from Mike’s waist to his hair, gently carding his fingers through tangled locks and massaging his scalp in comfort. He slowed his swats to a stop and rested his hand on Mike’s ass, hearing the sigh of relief at the momentary reprieve from the onslaught of pain.
His relief, however, was short-lived as Harvey hooked his fingers in Mike’s waistband and tugged his boxers down. “No!” he protested, wriggling like a worm over his lap, but knowing better than to reach his hand back to try and stop him.
Unable to help it, Harvey grinned at the boy’s desperate attempt to keep his last layer of protection, rubbing his hand over the warm skin that was only a light shade of pink. He still had a long way to go, and that was definitely going to change soon.
Harvey drew his hand back and landed the first swat on Mike’s bare bottom, watching the outline of a red handprint blossoming before quickly fading to pink. Mike yelped at the first swat on his bare skin, wincing and bucking his hips at the lack of protection.
The sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the room as he brought his hand down mercilessly on every inch of Mike’s butt, scattering his bare cheeks with hard and stinging smacks. Judging by the way Mike was writhing over his lap and making his misery known with the most pitiful sounds known to mankind, Harvey was sure that his ass was burning by now.
His skin quickly turned a bright red under Harvey’s insistent hand, the smacks coming down relentlessly all the way from the most fleshy part of his ass to the sensitive tops of his thighs. He continued to mindlessly stroke Mike’s head with one hand despite the other raining hell on his ass, and Harvey could tell that he was on the verge of tears based on the way his entire body shuddered.
Not even a second later, a sob escaped Mike’s lips. Going boneless over Harvey’s lap, his shoulders slumped as he buried his face into the couch, and Harvey knew it was time to wrap up the spanking. “There you go,” Harvey whispered gently, “Such a good boy.”
Mike only sobbed harder at that, a steady stream of tears rolling down his cheeks. Harvey obviously didn’t enjoy hearing Mike cry, but if that was what it took to prove to his boy that he cared, then he’d do it.
When Harvey tipped his legs forward and hiked his butt higher up, Mike cried out as it gave him access to his sensitive sit spots and upper thighs. Harvey aimed a bunch of hard swats to the low curve where his butt met thigh, watching as the skin turned a deep red.
“I got you, baby,” Harvey said, sending the hardest of the smacks to finish up the spanking. “You won’t be getting away with everything the way you used to, and that’s okay."
Eventually, his hand came to a stop. Harvey rubbed a hand over his sore and throbbing skin, trying to soothe the sting with gentle strokes. He scooped Mike up into his lap, holding him tight and cradling his head against his chest.
He tried his best to comfort the crying boy in his lap, pulling him into a big bear hug while rubbing his back softly. Harvey planted kisses on the top of his head, looking at his boy in admiration as he clung onto him like a koala.
“I-I’m sorry,” Mike hiccupped, “I just… needed to know.”
“It’s okay,” Harvey whispered, wiping a tear away from Mike’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to.”
Mike smiled softly despite himself, pressing a soft kiss to Harvey’s lips.
He could get used to this, alright.