Mike shows up at his door, soaked to the bone and teeth chattering. "I'm sorry to just, to just show up like this, but I had nowhere else to go."

There's a lingering sadness in his eyes; so much loss suffered that Harvey can't help himself from caring. Ushering him into his dark condo, he says, "I heard about the evacuation. But how did you even get all the way here? Isn't the subway shut down? And my elevator?"

Mike gives a little laugh, sort of helpless sounding. "Rode my bike. Thought I was gonna blow off the Brooklyn Bridge at one point."

The warm glow of candles light their way into the kitchen. Harvey moves to the counter where a camping stove and teapot sit. "Hey, why don't you go have a hot shower before all the hot water runs out, warm up, and I'll pour you some hot tea with whiskey."

Mike gives him a look. "Who are you and what have you done with Harvey?"

Harvey chuckles. "Old family recipe. You're not the only one who had an awesome Grandmoth... shit. Sorry. Too soon, probably."

"Maybe. But it's okay. She was awesome and it is great to think about how awesome she was."

Mike disappears to the bathroom, shuffling slowly, still looking broken as his wet jeans leave a trail of water in his wake. Harvey keeps himself busy by cleaning up and getting the tea ready and wracks his brain, trying to figure out what they're doing here.

It's been at least fifteen minutes since Harvey heard the water shut off, but no Mike yet. He looks for him in the bathroom first, finding only his wet towel in a pile by the door and his clothes drying on the towel rack.

Harvey walks into his bedroom to find Mike -wearing the bathrobe that had been hanging on the back of the bathroom door- staring out the floor to ceiling windows. "Here's your tea," he says, handing the mug over.

Mike takes a sip. "Thanks." He turns back to the windows, just watching.

After a few minutes of silence between them, hearing only the wind whistling off the building, Mike speaks. "It's so crazy out there, with all the lights off. Totally surreal. It's like we're watching the end of the world."

"And you said my stoned was depressing."

"It is. And I'm not stoned -wish I was- but just sad I guess. And really, really tired."

"The bed's over there," Harvey says, gesturing over his shoulder to his king-size bed. He'd pulled out the extra warm goose-down duvet from storage earlier in the day, not really sure how cold it would get in the condo when the power turned off.

Harvey gets out a clean pair of sweats and an old Harvard t-shirt for Mike to wear as pajamas. "Here. Put these on and climb in. I'll give you a minute." Harvey leaves, carrying his own pajamas with him as he goes to the bathroom to see if there's any hot water left in the shower. It's not. It's barely lukewarm, but it did help clear his mind of some his doubts and worries about Mike.

Returning to the bedroom, he slips under the covers, the air already chilled because of the storm raging outside.

Harvey could feel Mike shivering next to him. "I thought you'd warmed up."

"I thought so too," Mike replies, his voice muffled by the heavy blanket. He hears the rustling of the covers and then feels the warmth of Harvey's body against his back, an arm slung over his shoulders.

They fall asleep shortly thereafter, nestled in their shared cocoon of warmth.

It's barely light out and Harvey can feel Mike waking up: the change in his breathing, the stirring of his legs, and his hand flexing over Harvey's wrist. "Feeling better?" he asks quietly, his nose brushing over the back of Mike's neck a little. He hears only a mumble coming from Mike, but he does take notice when Mike presses back against him, his ass pressing into Harvey's groin.

"What do you want Mike?" Harvey asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mike presses back again, and then brings Harvey's hand down his own groin. Harvey can feel Mike's semi-hard dick beneath the soft cotton of the sweatpants.

"Look at me." Mike slowly turns his neck as far as he can, Harvey's face hovering so close above his. "You sure?" Harvey asks, and Mike just nods in response and licks his lips. Harvey closes the gap and kisses him, morning breath and all -he doesn't care.

He eventually untangles himself and grabs supplies from the bedside table. When he's back to his original spot, on his left side behind Mike, he reaches down to slip the sweats past Mike's ass only to find them already gone.

"What are you, Harry Houdini or something?" he asks, caressing Mike's ass, reveling in how it feels against his palm.

Mike just laughs.

And then he moans when Harvey's now lube coated fingers trace up and down his crack, ghosting over his hole. "Please, Harvey."

Harvey gently works his fingers inside, taking his time to just feel everything while distracting Mike from every single thing that's been going on out there.

Harvey has his chest pressed to Mike's back, his left arm looped underneath to hold him close. Then he slides inside of Mike, oh so very slowly. Everything is still so tight, but it's like beautiful torture.

They rock together, neither in a hurry to get off, both lost in the pleasure, a few moments to forget everything and be in the here and now.


A/N: link to a Hot Tea & Whiskey Recipe







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