A/N: It seems I can't write anything else beside short one-shots about them finally getting together. I know I am over-simplifying things... and Harvey and Donna have proved themselves being waaaaay more complicated than what my ficlets show but, maybe this is all in reaction from Suits being so heavy, complicated and overly dramatic in season 7.

Hope you will enjoy. If you have a few seconds, leave a comment! I always like to hear from fellow Darvey fans. -Fantomette

After the initial shock, what hit him was how fast his heart was beating, how her taste lingered on his lips...

If he thinks about it hard enough, maybe he can still taste her on his lips.

He closes his eyes, remembering how she ran her fingers through his hair, something his girlfriend never did.

His girlfriend. Paula Agard. His...therapist. UGH.

Just thinking about her makes him nauseous. He regrets it now, the way he yelled at Donna after the kiss. Blaming her for everything...

When the only one at fault was HIM.

He's the one who's with someone who is just a replacement, a stand-in, all of this because he thought he couldn't have what he really wanted.

He wanted to be Donna's MORE.

He grabs the phone on his night table and dials the number.

"Paula, I need to see you..."

Words can sting more than anything.

"I'm over you," Donna said after slapping him. Maybe he should have think this through. Maybe walking into her office, pulling her into a passionate kiss in broad daylight wasn't such a good idea.

Still, he can't remember how hard she slapped him, he just remembers her words...

OVER YOU.

He rolls on his side, his bed feeling cold and empty. He knows it now: it isn't Paula he is missing. It's Donna. It's always been her...

He's willing to try. Every. Fucking. Day.

For the rest of his life.

Donna kissed him. Now he knows what love tastes like.

It's late. Too late in every sense of the way: it's been weeks since the kiss and she still shuts him up whenever he starts talking to her about something not work-related. Even the weather makes her snaps a sharp 'get out. Now.'

It's dark except for the dimmed lights in their respective office. But they are alone. And even if he had to work late, even if he's dead tired he wants to try. Again. Until she lets him talk. Or act.

So he closes his laptop and walks to her office.

"If you aren't here to talk about work, you should get your ass out of my office NOW Mister." The words sting, she doesn't even looks at him, her eyes glued on the computer screen.

"Well. I'm here to kiss you back," he says with bravado, planting himself next to her chair.

She still doesn't look at him but rolls her eyes.

"I thought I made myself loud and clear the last time you tried , Harvey..."

"I don't care," he says letting his fingers touch her hair lightly. "I'm going to try to make you understand that I'm sorry and to win you back every single day. Until you let me..."

"You're an idiot." But he sees a hint of a smile. "You can't win back something you never had."

"An idiot who took too long to realize he was madly in love with you."

"Madly?" She quickly glances in his direction, he sees her lips quiver. Finally.

"Donna..." he sighs. "I dated my therapist when I asked you what more meant. It's obvious. I got scared… I dream..." He stops and bites his lips.

"Harvey Specter doesn't have dreams. He has GOALS," she replies imitating his voice.

"Well," he lets his hand travels down her neck... "Now that you are mentioning it... I keep having these dreams..."

She closes her eyes but doesn't push him away. "Harvey... don't..."

His thumb his warm on her cheek, he puts a finger under her chin.

"Donna," he says with that voice that always broke her, "Please."

He can feel she wants to say something but doesn't. He bends down, fingers under her chin, kissing her so gently and tenderly on the lips it sends a wave of warmth down her body.

It's short. Too short. She opens her eyes and sees him smiling. "So? Wasn't that bad..." He takes a step back. "Are you gonna hit me this time or..."

She laughs and shakes her head.

"I hate you," she says. But her hand is on his wrist. She doesn't want to let go of him. She figured out what more meant weeks ago. Finally, it seems they are on the same page...

She knew she didn't misread him. Everything he did, everything he said, they never called it love but it was. Clear as day. She felt it before she broke the kiss, that other night.

"Yeah..." He grins. "I figured out how much you hated me that time you kissed me."

"About that..." she finally gets up and puts her hands flat on his chest. She can feel his heart beating so fast. She smiles amused to see how much effect she has on him. "I am sorry...maybe I shouldn't have... but. Harvey..."

"Please, I needed a wake up call. I had no idea." He pulls her closer, his brown eyes looking straight at her. "I had no idea you wanted me too..."

"Too?" It comes out as a murmur. His eyes are too insisting, he's making her weak.

He wraps his arms around her and she is a bit in shock when she feels how much he needs her, she can feel it across her dress, hard and demanding. He tilts his head and she chuckles. "I am getting a good idea how hard you want me now."

"I still want you on my desk," he says before kissing her, hands in her hair like he wants to possess all of her.

"Well, technically, " she whispers between kissing, "this is MY desk,"

His hand goes down her back, trying to pull the zipper of her dress down and failing miserably. "Your desk. Even hotter," he bites her neck lightly, mostly to suppress a moan because she has her hand down his pants.

Her hands are unbuttoning his shirt and pulling his pants down as she is kissing him more and more passionately. He doesn't know how she manages to do all of this while maintaining contact with his erection but somehow she does, always the multitasker, and she finally pushes him on the desk to climb on him, pantiless, dress still on, he can't believe his luck.

"God. You're hot," is all he manages to say when he can finally feel her skin against his skin.

"I'm more than hot..." she sits on him, fingers digging in the muscles of his shoulders, slowly taking him in. She never finishes her phrase, biting her lips when he holds her waist and moves to match her pace. "Fuck...Harvey..." she finally says.

He will never tell her but he did not once close his eyes, wanting to enjoy every second of reality finally matching his wildest dreams. Her red hair falling around her face, her taupe eyeshadow on her closed eyes, her freckles on her cheeks...so many details, Every one of her moans he wants to feel on his neck. He's the idiot who repeats 'I love you' at least ten times before he flips her on her back to finish the wonderful task of making her scream his name.

When it's all over he almost wants to cry because it means he has to let her go.

It happened once, thirteen years ago and he didn't know how to deal with it. Feeling how much he NEEDS HER. With her it's always been MORE.

He kisses her once, twice, her neck, her chin, her lips then, adding tongue. Usually he wants to get away. Now there is nothing he would want more than being able to do it again...

And again.

"I'm sorry," is all he can say.

She blinks, like she is trying to focus on his face but can't. She gently pushes him and sits, pulling her dress down. "No you're not."

He stands and unceremoniously pulls his pants up. "You're right, I'm not."

He starts buttoning his shirt but her hands are quicker, quickly finishing it and then smoothing lines on his white shirt. He puts his hand on her hand, stopping her. "To be fair, I'm sorry it took me so long, Donna."

"I know Harvey."

He gives her the black panties that we're on the floor and smiles cheekily.

"I need to know. Am I..." he stops, feeling how ridicule he is, always being that insecure when it comes to her. "Donna. Can we...?"

"What?"

"Are we...can we..." he fights down tears. He really is the most idiotic man that ever existed but he promised himself he would stop fighting it. That NEED. For her.

He starts again. "Do you want to go steady?"

She laughs then, wholeheartedly. He feels panic rising for a few seconds but soon enough, she wraps her hands around his neck to pull him into a kiss.

"I guess that's a yes?" he asks afterwards.

"That's a 'let's see how it goes'."

"Let's see how it goes at my place?"

"Hopeful much?" She retorts but lets him kiss her neck. She won't tell him, not yet, but that feels good. She finally feels...complete.

"You have no idea how hopeful I am, Miss Paulsen."

That night, she went to his place, and surprisingly he didn't try anything. He wanted her to wear that shirt with his initials on. "Is that some kind of kink?" she asked. But when she climbed in bed he played the big spoon, wrapped his arms around her, his leg above her leg, and she felt his words, soft behind her head. "I love you". She is pretty sure he fell asleep, his nose above her neck, breathing her in... What could have been strange felt natural.

When she woke up, his hand holding her hand the next morning, she felt loved. She felt at home.

He woke up, slowly, in a daze, smiling when he realized she was there. Making love to her half asleep, like this is what the should have been doing for the last thirteen years.

...

When she told him her contraceptive were at home, and he should use something, he just smiled, and made love to her even more slowly and carefully this time.

He finally knew what EVERYTHING meant.