Her dress is gone, she's on her knees in front of him in nothing but her wedding ring and it's something else entirely. That hand is currently massaging his length through his boxer briefs, the other giving his ass a hearty squeeze before dipping lower, down towards his balls and Harvey sees stars —
— until suddenly he's yanked forward, his groin snaps against the bone of her wrist and he's seeing stars for an entirely different reason.
"Sweetjesusfuck!" he wheezes, wildly gripping at her hair to steady himself.
Donna gasps. "Harvey, I'm sorry!"
"What the fuck happened?" His knees drop to the carpet, head spinning.
Donna doesn't answer, and he thinks maybe he's blacking out until he hears that trademark snort, her body shaking beneath him.
"It's not fucking funny," he chokes out, hunched over on the floor. This only amplifies her giggles.
"My ring — my ring is stuck." She wiggles her fingers, still attached to his tender, and now limp, dick.
"Well, get it off," he grumbles, annoyed at the unfortunate turn their wedding night has taken.
She gives a tug and he jumps, covering himself in self-preservation.
"Stop pulling it!"
Donna huffs. "Will you hold still? It's caught in the stitching."
"Just...careful," he warns through his teeth.
She gives him a look that says aren't I always? He points to his crotch. Exhibit A.
Finally she manages to extract the stone, and she bends down next to him, rubs his shoulder sympathetically.
"Harvey. I really am sorry."
He squeezes her hand. "I know you are. 'S not your fault."
"Want some ice?" She's still laughing, lips pressed in a thin line and cheeks flushed, and this time he joins her, because it's really fucking ridiculous and entirely, completely them.
She pats his thigh before standing up, stalks naked towards the kitchen. "Coming right up."
"Thank you. And I want some special treatment," he shouts at her across the room.
Donna turns with a wink. "We'll see what we can come up with."
