Work Text:
It's past 10pm, and there sits Gianopoulos in his office, taking up space like an unwanted toad.
“Can an empty law firm really deal with the demands of so many clients?” he asks, casually enough.
Harvey slips his hands into his pocket and frowns.
“If you’re so worried, you could have fired me on the phone. Why are you in my office?”
Gianopoulos extends his fingers into the glass of scotch Harvey had been making his way before the interruption and he pushes it into Harvey’s chest, with a quirked eyebrow. Harvey stands his ground, but there's a telltale twitch in his index finger.
“You’re so willing to whore yourself out to your clients,” Gianopoulos says, in a tone like he was talking about due diligence on the Tepko takeovers, “why not make it literal?”
He takes the glass from Gianopoulos, and there was a pause that stretched on, taut and uneasy as Harvey quirks his eyebrows and considers the man in front of him for a long, drawn out moment. Then he slams the scotch down his throat before placing the glass down onto his table. He felt a nervous, hysterical laughter bubble in his chest. After all the shit that he's been through, a client trying to get into his pants was like the additional icing on his dirt cake.
“Jesus,” Harvey said, lips quirking into his trademark lopsided smile, “if all you wanted to ask me out on a date, all you had to do was ask. Why operate under all this bad faith? You know I always put out on first dates.”
Gianopoulos returns his smile, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Harvey stares in disbelief as the grey-haired man takes a note from the textbook of office sexual harassment and presses him into the wall. Harvey lets him, but he puts a hand on his shoulder before he leans in, jaw clenching as he bites the insides of his mouth, refraining from the urge to punch his goddamn head out of his window. He shoves Gianopoulos back, if only to get away from his overwhelming cologne.
“Going to assault me in a glass office without even going to buy me dinner first?”
The investment banker gives a barking laugh. He relents, releasing his hold on Harvey's lapels before sitting down on his sofa. Harvey wonders idly whether Jessica would approve of letting a client pound him into his desk to keep them as a client.
No, she'd be disappointed in him for not finding a way out -- for not turning the tables on him. Harvey was disappointing a lot of people lately.
“No, Harvey. I want you to show me just how much you appreciate me keeping your billables at where they are now, and just how much you appreciate me keeping your firm afloat.”
Harvey’s hands rubs on his two day old stubble, quietly fuming. He should have known that the man singlehandedly responsible for taking the speculating of oil futures out of the hands of regulators and shooting it right into the stratosphere would also know exactly to kick a lawyer when he was down.
“Don’t tell me one of the richest men in New York can’t find someone to suck his dick,” he says, sneering, unable to resist a pot shot.
“You know I can, Spectre, it’s just that I want it to be you.”
“This is blackmail. Sexual assault. I didn’t peg you to be a criminal.”
“There’s a great deal about me you don’t know about, Harvey. But you’re right, why don’t I take you out for dinner first?”
Harvey wrings his hands, calculates how much Gianopoulos was bringing into the firm each year, and decides that the monetary value of socking him in the face was, by a very small margin, less than that. He’s never enjoyed being on unequal footing to anyone, and Gianopoulos besmirching his sofa in his office so late at night was in the running for first in his list of worst nightmares.
“If you think I’m just going to lie back take it, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Gianopoulos is already putting on his coat, and he’s almost out the door before he turns to look back at Harvey with a pointed expression.
“You’re a wounded seal cub leaking blood into the ocean Spectre, and that’s always been more my type. I can either patch you back up to swim another day, or I can drag you to the sharks myself.”
Harvey stares at the other man, hand lying idly on his phone, and there’s a pit at the bottom of his stomach because he knows that it’s true, that Gianopoulos could ruin them without a second thought and barely make a dent in his own coffers. He thinks of Mike, sitting in a cell and away from his fiancée, and of Jessica, wracking her mind over their accounts, and the next thing he knew, he's following Gianapolous into the city night without another word.
It was just one night. Maybe the old man would fall asleep before anything happens.
It all ends up in Gianopoulos’ penthouse suite either way, and Harvey’s expression is pointedly blank as he follows the banker from the elevator straight into apartment, Manhattan’s nightline sprawled out in front of them. Harvey sees the faint outline of Pearson Spectre Litt, he sees his own apartment building, and when Gianopoulos hands him a small glass of what looks like whiskey, he wants to throw it right into his plush carpets. Stain that disgusting beige.
“It’s bad taste to poison your guests,” Harvey says blandly.
Gianopoulos shrugs, tossing his suit jacket onto the couch. “Drink it or don’t.”
Feeling weighed by the fatigue of too many days without proper sleep, Harvey downs the proffered glass, and he really should have expected the feeling of the world immediately tipping sideways. The last thing he sees is Gianopoulos stroking his cheek, and he thinks he manages to get a sucker punch right to to face before the world fades to black.
He wakes up to a cock in mouth, and fingers carded in his hair. Woozy as his mind is, he remembers it all. Why he was here, the roofied whiskey, everything. Blearily, his arms and legs feeling like lead, he looks upwards and discovers exactly why Gianopoulos needed to spike his drink when he had willingly walked into his penthouse with every intention of sucking his dick.
There were maybe more than four or five people in the lounge area now, watching the proceedings with great interest. They were murmuring in low voices that buzzed like locusts in his bleary mind. There was Tanner.
Panicking, Harvey tried to move back, and the man in his mouth choose exactly that moment to drive it past the back of his mouth and deep into his throat. Choking and sputtering on the cock, Harvey felt bile rise up towards his oesophagus, and the fingers in his hair gripped tighter, so tight he was sure his hair would fall right out.
“Puke and you will eat it off my floor, Spectre,” came the raspy voice of Gianopoulos, whose grip on his hair did not relent even as Harvey pawed fruitlessly at his hips, trying to get away from the damage being done to his throat. He swallowed uselessly against the flesh in his mouth, and he could feel moisture build in his eyes before Gianopoulos finally pulled his cock out inch by torturous inch. Harvey barely manages to get more than two gulps of air before his head is pulled back onto his flesh and a rough pace is set without a single thought given to his discomfort. The idea of biting down didn’t even occur to him, and just as he thought he was going to black out again, Gianopoulos finally pulls him off his cock and throws him onto the floor.
He's gratified by the bruise that's blossomed across Gianopoulos' nose for a short, satisfied second. Coughing and sputtering, humiliation nonetheless sits hot and heavy in his gut as he notices that he had been stripped of his clothing. Harvey lay completely bare before a group of men still in three pieces, and he couldn’t do a damned thing in self-defence as Tanner steps up and drags him by the hair over to a table at the edge of a room.
“Always knew you were a whore,” he says. “Always wanted to ruin you.”
Harvey barely gets a glimpse of his smirk before he’s pushed onto the table face first, hands splayed uselessly on his side. Tanner kicks his legs apart and Harvey grunts as he feels oil slicked fingers press inside him. He tries to push himself up, but an elbow knocks him down again, breath catching high in his throat.
Tanner doesn’t care much for prep, and Harvey feels the insistent press of his cock far before he feels ready to take it. But press in it does, and he can’t help the broken cry that escapes his lips as he feels the tip breach him, blunt and hot, too much and too fast. Tanner groans above him, pulls out and pushes right back in without reprieve. Harvey’s whimpers, nerves frayed, in too much pain to resist now, and he hears Tanner murmur disgusting things to him, how tight he is, what an obedient toy --- how cock was all he needed to be put in place.
He tries to shake his head, but all he gets is an especially brutal thrust as Tanner buries himself balls deep in the wet clenching walls of Harvey’s ass. Tanner sets an uncompromising rhythm, and it feels like forever before he comes with sharp cry and Harvey feels his insides fill with a warm liquid. He gives a stuttering moan of pain as Tanner pulls out, and feels warm liquid drip down his thighs, some of which he is sure is blood.
“This is some good quality ass,” he said, grabbing a fistful of his ass before giving it a hard slap. Harvey burned with the humiliation and mortification of knowledge of exactly who had been fucking into him.
Any thoughts that his ordeal was over was immediately dashed from his mind when he finds himself manhandled back into the centre of the room and onto the lap of a man he didn’t recognize. He sinks onto the man’s cock easily, but it still feels like the wind is being knocked out of him, and he’s openly moaning now, pinpricks of pleasure nestled in the blinding pain. The man pushes him onto his knees and pounds into him with enough force to knock the breath out of him, and Harvey can’t find any purchase on the carpet.
Another man enters his vision. Harvey recognized him as one of the firm's clients, a venture capitalist. Not one he dealt with often, but he’s seen him around the office often enough.
“P-Please,” he gasps, voice raspy and wrecked from the face-fucking he had gone through earlier. Harvey wants out, is willing to beg for it, but the man simply unzips his trousers and starts rubbing his cock into hardness before pressing it insistently at his lips.
"Convince me you're worth keeping around," the man says, and Harvey sobs, half despair and half indignation. He opens his mouth to argue his case--- he's more than competent enough. The man just takes the opportunity to shove his cock past reddened lips, and then Harvey's speared at both ends. He can't escape, he's got nowhere to go as the man behind him slams into his ass and pushes him onto the cock in front of him so it batters his throat.
Harvey tries to retreat into himself then, tries to ignore the completely helpless feeling of being tossed around between their bodies, and of the violation. By the time the man behind him comes in his ass, another is already waiting to take his place. The cock pressing up against his hole was a such a behemoth, even though his hole was red, raw and slack from repeated use, when the man sheathed himself into Harvey's body, a fresh wave of pain hits him harder than any drugs he’s ever taken before. His throat convulses, and it must feel good to the man in front, because he's is spilling deep down his throat moments later.
Louis' client, his mind oh so helpfully provides. Recently bought a chunk of the firm's equity.
It doesn't take long for him to be filled at both ends again, and his mind blanks as he’s passed around the room between the men for what seemed like an endless stretch of time. He almost feels like he's disconnected from his body, like the person his clients were ramming into was a stranger, disjointed and distant. Weak. It's only when Tanner sinks into his ass with a soft squelch and barely any resistance that he feels himself resurfacing.
“You fuckers ruined his hole. He’s all loose,” he snarled, and Harvey flinches.
All loose. Useless. Back to the mailroom he goes. Where he belongs.
“It’s fine,” Gianopoulos says, pressing two fingers into Harvey and stretching him well beyond pain. He arches his back to get away from the intruding fingers, but somebody has him by his hair, and the fingers dig deeper into him, opening him up. Harvey shudders. His fingers curl around Tanner's biceps. He wants to scratch out his eyes. Wants all this to stop.
“We can make the pain slut take us both.”
"Wh-"
Harvey is suddenly terrified by the implication, and makes a futile efforts to escape starts again.
“Please, please, please, don’t--- let me use my mouth--" but his pleas are cut off by another cock being shoved into his mouth, and Harvey can only convulse around it as he feels Gianopoulos’ cock slide in beside Tanner’s bit by bit. Soon he’s settled deep in him, and Harvey doesn’t understand how he’s not dying, and he’s sobbing now as they start fucking into him like he was nothing. Just a toy for them to break.
It feels like an entire millennia before they finally come inside him, and when they pull out, Harvey simply slumps onto floor, slack jawed, blood and cum dripping down his thighs and onto the carpet.
“Fucked sloppy and stupid is a good look on you,” he hears Tanner say. Harvey just curls into himself, blearily wondering which particular sins he was paying retribution for. He feels ruined and beyond repair, and as he feels the pull of unconsciousness draw near he finds himself wishing he would never wake back up.