What exactly happened "the other time"?

Pairing: Donna/Harvey

a/n Sometimes a little plot bunny attacks you at 5 in the morning. This is my first attempt at a Suits fic, so I hope you enjoy

Disclaimer: Suits and its characters are not mine.

You don't know exactly how it started. One minute the two of you are having drinks at a bar to celebrate Harvey's latest win and you have a bet going to see who can get the most numbers. The next thing you know, he's stopped flirting with other women and has turned his incredible charm on you. Not to be one-upped, you flirt back. You would like to blame it on the alcohol, but you know that neither of you is drunk. Not even close. And somehow you end up in a taxi together, ostensibly so he can drop you off at your apartment before heading to his place.

But as you are sitting so close and his hand is on your thigh—creeping higher—as you run your fingernails up and down his upper arm, you know that excuse would not hold up in court. You don't say anything as the cab comes to a stop in front of your building. You just watch as he hands the driver some cash, then grab his hand to pull him out of the car with you.

Your first kiss is both nothing and everything a first kiss should be. The two of you are walking to your building when he stops and tugs on your wrist. You sort of tumble into him and his mouth descends to yours. It is sweet at first and you feel his hands come to your hips and lower back to press you more fully into him. But then his hands begin to drift lower and you nip his bottom lip before deepening the kiss. You break apart as you hear the door open behind you, reminding you that you're out on the street.

You lead him up to your apartment, and it is only the presence of your neighbor and her three year old son that keeps the two of you from touching on the elevator. Harvey walks into your apartment and looks around, comments that not much has changed since the last time he was here. You smile and ask if he wants something to drink as he makes himself comfortable on the couch.

It is only when he says your name that you realize you are fluttering around the apartment looking for something to do. You smile at him and give a soft chuckle before settling yourself next to him. You are not new at this, but this is Harvey. This is big. This is—

And then you can't think anymore because suddenly you are kissing him again and his hands are in your hair, on your face, running down your sides, then up your back. Your hands grip in his hair and you raise up slightly to change the angle of the kiss. Harvey groans into your mouth because you give as good as you take. You don't know how long that goes on—minutes or days or years—but at some point you end up straddling his lap. You rock against him as his hands explore the curves of your backside.

He breaks off the kiss and you send thanks up to whoever is listening that you chose such a low-cut dress today as his mouth finds the tops of your breasts. His hands come up and test the fullness of the curves before pushing upward to allow more access for his mouth. Your teeth and tongue tease his ear, and you emit a breathy gasp as his mouth touches on a particularly sensitive spot.

Your hands find the knot of his tie and pull, loosening it enough for you to undo his top two buttons. You push away from him and stand up, pulling him with you. Your mouth explores his throat as you push his jacket off of his shoulders. Your fingers search his back, first over his shirt, then under. Then, he kisses you again and you know this is the best you've ever had.

You break away from him to catch your breath. You can still taste him on your tongue and it is not something you think you'll easily forget. But the gravity of what you are about to do begins to sink in. Things work between you because you are Donna and he is Harvey. You are not Donna and Harvey. The chemistry is definitely there, but you are going places together. Just not together.

You don't think you are ready for him, or that he is ready for you. And what will it do to his career, to your career, if this gets the two of you out of sync? You bring your fingers to your mouth and look at him. You see the question in his eyes and answer the only way you know how.

"I could love you, Harvey. It would be so easy to get there." You allow him to pull you back into a kiss. And once again it is all hands and teeth and tongues, and just…

But after a minute, you push him away. Tell him this has to stop. Now, before it goes any further. And your resolve almost crumbles and he gives you that damned look. The one that makes him seem so vulnerable. It is the closest Harvey comes to wearing his heart on his sleeve, and it only happens around you.

"Donna." You look into his eyes as he says your name, nothing else. But his eyes speak volumes. They say he could love you too, that he wants you.

But sometimes want isn't enough. You allow yourself one last taste of him, then push him away again before he can deepen it.

"No. We can't."

"Can't?"

"Can't."

And he smirks at you. But somehow his normal cockiness is missing. Maybe it's the fact that he's still panting with effort as he's trying to reign himself in. Or maybe it's because he's not quite so put together. His hair is mussed, your hands having removed any and all semblance of order his hair gel provided. His lips are swollen and red, and you see traces of your lipstick around his mouth, his throat, his ears.

You step completely from his embrace as you continue your survey. You vaguely register the sudden cold as his hands leave your body. His tie is askew, and very loose. His shirt is untucked in the back from when your hands itched to feel his skin. You run a hand through your hair and realize you must not look much different—all panting and mussed and well-kissed.

"You need to go, Harvey, before I change my mind." You are opening the door as you hear his reply.

"And that would be a problem, why?"

You don't hear the door close over the sound of your pounding heart. You only see his eyes as he walks across the room to hover in front of you—so close, but not quite touching—and holds the door closed with an arm above your head. You close your eyes and focus on the cool door at your back instead of the warm body at your front. You take two deep breaths and count to ten in your head before you can open your eyes again. It would be so easy to give in to what you want. But you can't.

"It would destroy us. We could not recover from this." And even you hear the slight tremor in your voice. You beg him with your eyes not to argue, and surprisingly, he doesn't. He just sighs, runs a hand over his face and says okay. As he steps away from you, you can breathe again.

He gathers his jacket and keys, and tells you he'll see you tomorrow as he walks back to the door. You allow yourself a moment after he leaves, then busy yourself with cleaning the apartment. Anything to settle your body.

The next morning you change outfits twice because of the stubble burns left on the tops of your breasts by his 5 o'clock shadow.

You smirk as you hear Louis ask Harvey about the hickey on the side of his neck, just peeking out above his collar. Harvey, of course, responds that Louis' wife gave it to him, causing Louis to walk off in a huff without even acknowledging you. You freeze as Harvey's eyes meet yours, then pull a face as you realize the implications of his statement. He winks at you and you know everything is going to be okay. The two of you make a silent pact to never speak of what almost happened.

And if sometimes memories from that night come up in dreams that seem so vivid you wake up and wonder if he's really there, you don't speak of that either. It's only a dream, after all.

End

a/n Thanks for reading. Reviews would be lovely.