Chapter Text
"Do whatever you need to keep him happy," Jessica had said, and Harvey had been absolutely fine with that. After all, it wasn't every day he was expected to close a deal by entertaining a client who also happened to be a multi-billionaire playboy and one of the richest, most successful businessmen in the world.
And so far it had been easy.
Thomas Reinhart was rich, arrogant yet charming and enigmatic, and to begin with, Harvey, not usually one to be easily impressed, had been somewhat in awe of the man. Dragging himself up from virtually nothing, Reinhart, now in his thirties, had rapidly built himself an entire empire of successful businesses across the globe, and Jessica had finally managed to bring him in as a client.
"Whatever you do, keep him sweet until he comes back in to sign those final documents on Monday," she'd hissed, watching approvingly as Donna had linked her arm companionably through his as she'd given him a guided tour of the offices. Jessica knew only too well that the final contracts, which she would spend the whole weekend personally preparing herself, would need to be signed in her office first thing on Monday morning in order to seal the deal, but between now and then she was entrusting Harvey with the important job of entertaining their lucrative client in order to keep it securely on the table.
"Let me get this straight," he'd said, an amused smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. "You want me to baby-sit a billionaire playboy who is renowned for his extravagant gambling and spending, not to mention his well-publicized battle with sex addiction, and to not even think about bringing him back until first thing on Monday morning?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Jessica had said, firmly nodding her head.
And so that's how Harvey had found himself to be accompanying Mr. Reinhart during his New York stay over the weekend. He'd pulled out all the stops too: the best restaurants, the best clubs, not to mention premium tickets for the Yankees game. The evening visit to the casino had been pretty much on the cards of course: after all, the man was well known for his audacious gambling, and although Harvey had been aware of the rumors of him throwing away half a million dollars on one spin of the roulette wheel, he hadn't been particularly shocked to find out they were actually true. By late Saturday evening, Harvey, having thoroughly enjoyed himself, had delivered Reinhart to his hotel suite, promising to pick him up in the morning.
"You want to come in for a nightcap?" Reinhart had asked him, lifting his eyebrows and smiling suggestively, giving Harvey the nod that rumors he'd heard about the man swinging both ways were very probably true. He politely declined, however. Not that he wasn't tempted – Reinhart was indeed very attractive – but he thought perhaps the old maxim about not mixing business with pleasure was good advice in this case, especially as there was so much at stake. Besides, he thought that although Jessica had insisted that he entertain the man, he doubted she would expect him to jump into his bed.
Instead, after meeting up in the morning, the two men breakfasted together then Harvey had Ray drive them out to Locust Valley, where they took in a round of golf at the prestigious Piping Rock Golf Club.
"Is taking care of me wearing you out, Harvey?" Reinhart asked him as they sat in the back of the car, sipping champagne on the hour's ride back into the city.
Harvey decided honesty was the best policy. "A little," he admitted, "but seriously, whatever you want to do is fine by me."
"Look, I know Jessica has asked you to take good care of me, and I'll certainly be telling her that you have, but I'm sure you'll agree that everyone needs some down time to themselves."
Before Harvey could react, Reinhart reached into the inside pocket of his coat and plucked out a gold-edged card which he then passed over. "Why don't you go home and rest, Harvey," he said, "then let me show you a good time tonight? There's uh, shall we say a little event at one of my friend's places tonight. I'll make sure you're on the guest list if you want to come. What do you say? Eight o'clock? Would that be good for you?"
"Are you sure?" Harvey asked, more about the promised 'down time' than the event itself. Nevertheless, he inspected the card before tucking it away in his wallet. He wanted to ask what kind of event it was, but knowing Reinhart's propensity for gambling, he guessed it was most probably a poker night or something like that.
"Absolutely sure," Reinhart said.
"Okay, then, thanks," Harvey replied. "I'll see you at eight."
Later that night, after a light meal, shower and change of clothes, Harvey, not wanting to bother Ray on a Sunday night, took a taxi, giving the driver the address on the gold card. The building was impressive, a classically styled sprawling townhouse on Park Avenue, with such an opulent aspect to the front that he was surprised to be greeted by Reinhart himself and not some sour-faced servant in a uniform.
"So glad you could come," the man said, relieving Harvey of his overcoat as he was led into a dramatic double-height entrance hall with a marble gallery and sweeping curved staircase. "Take a seat, I'll get you a drink."
Somewhere in the building, music was being played and quite loudly too, if its vibrating thrum was anything to go by. Harvey also thought he could hear voices although he chose, for now, to ignore them, and instead concentrated on the glass of scotch that his host had pressed into his hand as he was invited to sit on a comfortable couch in the sumptuous lounge.
"I hope you're going to enjoy what's on offer here tonight," Reinhart told him. "What's your sport, anyway?"
"Well, if you have to ask me that," Harvey said quickly with a grin, "I guess you didn't notice how excited I got at the Yankees game, or take a good look at my balls when you were in my office the other day."
At that, Reinhart regarded him with one eyebrow quizzically raised but then he burst into laughter as Harvey continued to grin back. "Are you flirting with me, Harvey Specter?" he murmured, leaning closer.
Harvey hesitated. He did like Reinhart and enjoyed his company, admired him even, but that didn't mean he necessarily wanted to engage in any kind of overly flirtatious behavior with him.
"You like to be in control, don't you, Harvey?" Reinhart said, leaning back and regarding him critically. "Of course someone like you would do. Strong, intelligent, good-looking. You're a man who likes to be on top, if ever I saw one."
Harvey was used to being flattered and so took the compliments in his stride. The flirtatious double entendre, however, was a different matter. "What was it you wanted to know?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject. "What my favorite sport is?"
"Yes, Harvey," Reinhart said, nodding. "But I'll get straight to the point now, okay? What I want to know is, do you prefer women or men?"
"Excuse me?"
"Sex, Harvey. I'm asking if you're into women or if guys are more your thing."
Adept at concealing his emotions, Harvey barely flinched, but upon seeing Reinhart waiting expectantly, his tongue snaking out to lick his thin lips, he narrowed his eyes. "No disrespect," he said a little more gruffly than he meant to, "but I don't think that's really any of your business."
"Oh, but it is my business," Reinhart said with a throaty chuckle as he stood up and beckoned Harvey to follow him. "If you fully understand me?"
Not sure if he did or not, Harvey remained silent.
"Look, just come with me," Reinhart said, grasping Harvey's sleeve impatiently and guiding him towards the elevator to the rear of the vast room. "Make your choice," he said, indicating the control panel inside the car.
"I'm sorry?"
Reinhart nodded at the buttons. "It's up for the girls or down for the guys," he said patiently, and then he nodded with a satisfied grin as Harvey, after a further few seconds of hesitation and despite his instincts telling him not to, reached out and slapped a button with the palm of his hand.
Within seconds they were exiting into the basement in what Harvey quickly realized was an opulent changing area, complete with showers, lockers, silky robes and an abundance of large fluffy towels. Feeling even more apprehensive now but saying nothing, he followed Reinhart's lead in putting away his valuables then removing his clothing and then he slipped on the silky robe and soft shoes supplied by his host. Firmly pushing his misgivings to the back of his mind, he then followed the other man through a door at the rear of the room.
The music Harvey had heard from the floor above suddenly swelled with a stronger steadier beat, thrumming in his chest; it seemed hotter here too, the air closer, sticky somehow, despite the air conditioning. A wide passageway stretched out before them, this one with many more doors leading to other rooms, all of them open, and Harvey wandered along behind his host, taking in the sights and smells of each doorway, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. Now, not only did the steady thump of the music continue to vibrate in his chest but there were multiple other sounds, not just the voices he'd heard before, much louder now, but also moans and groans and whimpered cries, both of ecstasy and of pain. Pausing in the doorway of a large room, he watched as a small crowd of about ten men, most of them wearing similar robes to one he himself was clothed in, were clustered around one of the tables. Moving cautiously nearer, Harvey could see there was a dark-haired young man positioned in the midst of them, naked, his body gleaming with sweat, and he was leant over face down, his thighs widespread, one leg bent up at the knee, and he was grunting loudly as the man behind him thrust into him hard. At the head of the table, another man was thrusting enthusiastically into his mouth whilst all around him, the others watched in appreciation, some of them touching themselves, their fists pumping, whilst others leaned closer, grasping, stroking and plucking at the young man's flesh.
As Harvey turned and wandered further in, he glanced into the next room. Here he was met with a similar sight, another man in the center but reclining in a black leather sling this time, with several others around him, some of them naked, watching as he was fucked on his back. His thighs were pushed up and spread wide so that his knees were almost beside his ears, and Harvey could hear him crying out with each hard thrust.
"You can take your pick of these rooms, Harvey," suddenly Reinhart drawled close to his ear. "You go anywhere you want, do whatever you want. You just make sure you enjoy yourself, okay?"
Despite his misgivings, Harvey had to admit it was all very tempting – intoxicating even – and he silently nodded his thanks before watching as Reinhart slipped away into one of the rooms. He was almost painfully hard now, and so he moved further along the passageway to where the room fanned out into dimly-lit, cavernous space, a series of screened cubicles semi-disguising the various acts which were taking place within them. To the rear of the room there was a table offering various drinks and snacks, not to mention a wide range of condoms, lubes and gels, and Harvey drifted towards it, grabbed a bottle of water and stood against the wall before gulping it down. Part of him really just wanted to get the hell out of there, another part wanted to head into the rest room and deal with his urges in private before making his excuses and quietly leaving, and yet still another was tempted to enter one of the shadowy cubicles and take full advantage of what was being offered up to him on a plate.
As he watched, a man with a gleaming bald head exited the cube nearest to him and he grinned at Harvey, clearly very pleased with himself and the service he'd received, and looking past him, Harvey could see a naked young man with long pale thighs kneeling on the floor, his dark blond hair pasted to the back of his neck with what looked like sweat. After glancing hurriedly all around him, Harvey entered the cubicle and sat down on the bench. The young man, although he was clearly not that much more than a boy really, Harvey decided, shuffled forwards on his knees. He didn't say anything - he seemed quite out of it really, his movements slow and languid, his head bowed - but as soon as he took Harvey's cock into his hand, Harvey found himself pulling the robe aside and spreading his thighs to give the boy better access. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes, arching his back and involuntarily groaning out loud as the boy's hot, agile tongue slid tantalizingly along his length.
"Yeah, keep going like that," he groaned out in encouragement as the boy sucked him into his throat. He leaned back, his face tipped up to the ceiling but after a while he looked down, keen to see his cock disappearing into the boy's hot, wet mouth. In his excitement, he thrust a little too hard, hitting the back of the kid's throat and making him gag. Harvey placed his hand on the boy's shoulder by way of apology and as he looked up at him suddenly and Harvey stared down into his glassy eyes and realized who he was, with a shock he involuntarily jerked back.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed, panic making him rough as he pushed himself up. The young man lost his balance, swearing as he was sent sprawling to the floor, and at that moment, panting and shocked, Harvey tugged his robe back tightly around himself. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he mumbled, throwing the words guiltily over his shoulder as he hastily exited the cubicle.
In the shower room and with his pulse racing wildly, he rinsed himself off and then struggled into his clothes, his hands shaking. By the time he got home and poured himself a large scotch, he was feeling a little calmer, although he realized after his second drink that he was only trying to convince himself – but failing badly – that maybe the incident hadn't happened at all.
It had definitely been him though, he confirmed to himself: that kid, the one with the amazing memory, the one who, despite his lack of a law degree or even any college education for that matter, had just happened to have been one of the most impressive young men that Harvey had ever met – a total genius, in fact. And what had his name been again?
But Harvey was just kidding himself again – he knew the kid's name all right:
Mike Ross.
It was a name he'd been unable to forget.