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Mike’s experiences with fine dining were lacking, to put it lightly. Harvey called it something more belittling, but it was he who rented a restaurant’s private room and ordered him the most delicious steak ever. Didn’t matter that Mike wanted something else; Harvey doesn’t get to dictate everything about his life. He says as much, not that it matters.
“I mean, I always do what you instruct and follow you everywhere. Not exactly freedom.” He continued eating (hastily, evidenced by the slight mess on his face).
It seemed to amuse Harvey, who countered with, “You forget, rookie,” as he swiped the corner of Mike’s mouth with two fingers. “You’re still free to make your own choices. You just exercise the right judgment.” When brought to his lips, he sucked, staring intently. “Juicy,” he hummed.
Mike’s mouth fell agape.
Why did his chest feel so fuzzy?
... It was the steak, surely…