They don't talk about it. They'd never talk about it, because Louis can't have the words and Harvey can't admit to the crime.
They don't fit. They don't get along. Louis is inferior in every way, a tiny little cheat that Harvey loves to loathe. Harvey doesn't like him. Harvey doesn't enjoy spending time with him. Every loss to him feels like a crushing defeat, like a personal failure. It gets under Harvey's skin; Louis gets under Harvey's skin like nobody else ever has. It shouldn't work.
Louis is forever in his shadow at work. Louis is forever trying to catch the spotlight and feel what it would be like to be like to be appreciated at work. He wants to know what it's like to be genuinely respected- not merely tolerated because he brings in the money- but because he brings in the money by being talented and capable as a lawyer. Louis is forever fighting to be the stronger one, the better one, the one who gets credit on the basis of merit alone; he fights to get recognition of his worth.
It shouldn't work, because Harvey needs to respect Louis for it to work. It shouldn't work, because Louis needs Harvey's appreciation and admiration for it to work. They both need to communicate openly and honestly for it to work, for it to be anything but fucked up and abusive and dangerous. They can't speak about the respect and admiration, they can't be those people at work or in public; they can barely be those people behind a locked door with the curtains drawn and music playing loud because Louis insists the neighbours might hear.
So it shouldn't make sense that Louis consents to this- that it's a relationship and not an abuse of power. But he does- they both say yes to one another so many times.
Louis says yes every time he opens the door for Harvey, points to the couch, and pours Harvey a drink. Louis says yes every time he argues with Harvey at work, every time he makes it clear that what they do at home will never be- could never be- a reflection of their professional lives. Louis says yes every time he makes it clear he will not compromise himself, he will only consent. Louis says yes every time he pulls his trousers down, leans on the bed, and accepts punishment as the only kind of love he can really understand. Louis says yes every time he counts out a slap, every time he never says no, every time he asks for a little more. A little more love, a little more time, a little more pain.
Harvey says yes every time he knocks on Louis' door. Harvey says yes every time he holds Louis afterwards, every time he follows him home days later to make sure he's okay and they eat bad Americanized Chinese take out together. Harvey says yes every time he negotiates, gives more of himself away, meets more of Louis' demands. Harvey says yes every time he turns down a relationship with a beautiful woman he could have a relationship right out in public with. Louis tells Harvey that he can get sex anywhere but from him, and that he'll kill him if it's anything but sex, and Harvey continues to consent.
Harvey says yes every time he hurts Louis at great personal cost, every time he worries that he's gone too far, every time he worries about the limits in a relationship as fragile as their own. Harvey says yes every time he touches Louis, every time he hurts him, every time he strikes Louis with his own bare hands. Harvey says yes even though it hurts -him- to hurt Louis, because Louis needs it, and Harvey needs whatever it is that makes Louis happy.
It shouldn't work, and it doesn't make sense. Yet- in the darkness of harsh words and Harvey's cold hands making Louis cry for just a little more, a little longer- they work. They put away their public lives and embrace the people they're not supposed to be.
