I clearly didn't put much thought into a backstory so this is set anywhere pre-canon. Take your pick and I hope you enjoy!
The problem with other people is that one must feel before the other and one is always scared to let it show. And they both might think that they've arrived at completely different places, longing to meet but afraid they won't find the other there.
There were slip ups. They both liked to pretend like those were separate occasions never to be repeated but every time there was a knock on Donna's door or Harvey found her outside of his apartment or they shared a ride home from work they would do nothing to stop it from happening again. It didn't matter who initiated it, who accepted the invite, who had a rule in place. They always read each other and the events that were about to unfold like a well written scene that had been rehearsed hundreds of times.
And maybe it also didn't matter because they both wanted it. They both needed exactly that, each other, to feel something, even if it was just the feeling of burning skin against fingertips and a black chasm of want expanding in their chests after they parted.
They would wake up sun-spangled, each in their own bed, and start their usual day, arrive at the office, exchange greetings and witty remarks and life would go on. No mention of the previous night or any night before that, any night where they found themselves tangled up in each other, making the other person gasp and whimper and lose any sense of what was real.
But, here's the hot-lipped truth of it: arrangements like that never work. Everyone thinks they're special and everyone thinks they can make it work and everyone inevitably fails. Because human beings aren't that simple of a creature and saying something is one thing doesn't necessarily make it that, just like thinking of a sunrise doesn't make the night less dark.
And that's a bittersweet lie to tell yourself. That you have control over what's going on in the back of your mind or what anyone else thinks and does in this world. And perhaps it's not completely a lie if you believe it. And they did, the illusion creating a crystal clear palace for them to spend their nights in, comfortable and convenient, until there came a day that would break it's glass walls down.
But that day had not come yet. So once again he had knocked on her door and she had let him inside. He took her hand in his and suddenly they were in the dim-lit bedroom and he was on his back and she was lying on top of him and everything was still and quiet except for their agitated touches and elevated breaths.
Her warm breath brushed his cheek and he turned his head slightly, his lips instantaneously meeting hers in the first kiss of many to follow, deep and soft and full of longing. He captures her top lip and then tugs on her bottom one, feeling her palms pressed firmly around his head. She brings him closer, still getting accustomed to the fact that she's kissing him. She devours his lips and he whimpers because he knows how hungry she is for him and he finds it titillating.
With each passing moment the kissing turning harder and needier, the time they had spent apart, no matter how much or little, coming to close in the distance between them. Their breathing steadily growing heavier and at times getting completely cut off for just a split second by the intensity of the kiss, followed by small gasps escaping their throats and lips clasping again.
She moves below his mouth, kissing his jaw all the way down to his neck. Sucking on it and grazing her teeth on his skin and she feels his breath hitch under her lips. She can't see his facial expression but she imagines. Eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he breathes hotly and it makes her insides shift a bit, a hot feeling pooling low in her belly.
His hands, firm and steady, move up and down her smooth back, concluding on her ass, his palms kneading it fervently. He presses her harder against him, their centres together and she grinds on him unable to contain the tension that's building up in her lower half, feeling him hard under his pants, the act eliciting a muffled moan from Harvey.
He kisses her neck and collarbones and chest and every part of her he can reach, leaving wet marks on her skin where his mouth had been. But no matter how much he wants all of her he regularly returns to her lips, not being able to bear a minute leaving them unkissed. He drags Donna's bottom lip slowly with his teeth and she moans quietly in his mouth.
She lowers her hand and smooths her palm up the length of his cock, feeling it ready against her touch. She undoes his pants and holds him between her two hands. Stroking him expertly with one soft hand and caressing him with the other, as if she had read a manual of his thoughts and what exactly it was he wanted in that moment. And she was exceptional at it, far better than the last time, because, after every night that he thought to be their best, she'd have him pant and groan even quicker, even better the next. Every time learning more of the tips and tricks of working his body, feeling more connected to him than the time before.
So that in no time he was whimpering helplessly and she pressed against him and he smelled clean sheets and sweet air and her, and the world fell away as she shifted her body and aimed him perfectly in her center, entering in one single thrust.
She adjusts and starts moving, sliding up and down his cock and he groans at the contact. She feels warm and slick around him and he doesn't think he's ever been this turned on. His skin is on fire. His head is hazy, the thoughts blurry, unable to form themselves and the only thing remotely close to a coherent concept being the idea of their bodies fitting so well together, how fully he fills her and how damn good it feels.
Her hands hitched to the back of his neck she pulls him in a deep kiss, his hands around her waist pinning her down on him, their bodies continuing to move. Not necessarily picking up speed but coming even closer, harder, shut like their eyes, with pleasure. He's pushing into her, his movements coming to meet hers, every thrust showering Donna with a sparkling sensation that runs down her spine and creates a desire to make their joining deeper.
She feels dizzy, the scent of his skin and lips on hers intoxicating her more and more as time goes by and she now thinks she's close. Not sure if she can hang in there much longer but also ready to let go in his arms and collapse on his body, that in that moment seems like the safest and most inviting place she can think of.
The sound of his name rolls out on her tongue and pushes her over the edge and she moans as the orgasm induced euphoria floods her body. Her walls clench around him, small trembles ripple through her body and she lets herself crash on his, burying her face in his neck. He follows right behind, spilling inside of her.
They stay that way. Trying to bring their breathing back to its natural rhythm, completely immersed in each other like some single entity. She's resting her head on his shoulder, feeling his flushed sweaty skin under her cheek. She thinks this is nice.
Harvey shifts slightly underneath her and places a gentle kiss on her face. Donna nuzzles deeper in his shoulder as if trying to reciprocate the loving gesture without having to open her eyes, without performing any excessive moments. He kisses her once, twice, again.
Lifting her up easily, they end up sitting on the bed with their limbs wrapped around each other, so suddenly finding themselves in a tight hold, bodies pressed as hard as if trying to create more space so they could fill that too.
She runs her hands through his hair, her short nails digging in his scalp and feels him pulling her closer, the grip his hands have on her waist becoming more possessive but staying delicate nevertheless. She lowers her touch on him, tracing circles on his back, her fingertips absorbing every inch of the smooth skin.
The focus is on the breath. Breathing each other's air, deep and heavy. Synchronized just like everything else had been between them that night and each night and each second of each day since they had met.
Lips brushing, momentarily touching, not fully coming together. Enjoying the closeness they created. Eyes dancing on the line of being open and shut, they fully take each other in, no need to see.
She leans closer, her nose gently nudging his in what feels like, despite everything they had shared that night, the softest and most intimate moment between them. She feels her heart skip a beat when she realizes he has made no attempt to move. Pausing there, face to face, hands caressing velvety skin, almost breathless from the heaviness of the moment, because it carried more than they had ever let show before, more than they ever thought there was to show.
And then his lips were on hers, closing the small space between them in a deep kiss that sucked the air out of her lungs. She's sitting with her legs wrapped around him, completely immersed in his embrace, fingers digging in the muscles of his back and all she can think about is the taste of his tongue and how well their lips fit together and suddenly she needs to remind herself to breathe.
It wasn't a possessive kiss. Not the hot and needy type they were both so used to when they're hungry for each other, turned on and flushed with anticipation for the next thing. This one had a softer, more gentle undertone. Needy in a completely different way of wanting to be enveloped in the other person, wanting to feel everything they're feeling.
Hands glued on skin, they were touching each other without an exit plan.
Leaning forward he gently placed her on her back without breaking the contact that had been established, his body strong and sturdy now on top of hers.
He suddenly pulled away from the kiss and looked at her. Big eyes, flushed rosy cheeks, swollen lips from the kiss. All the details on her face jumped out at him like pretty pictures that he tried to take in all at once.
In that moment there was something to be understood, something that felt almost illicit and that neither of them was ready to face. This wasn't just sex anymore. It could have been but the way their hands gripped every available spot of skin and the deep longing manifesting itself in kisses and fast heartbeats ready to crack their chests open, all suggested that it was more than that.
The night was leading them to a territory too unknown to explore in the dark, a feeling expanding in their chests the way a bead of ink breaks and stains the surface beneath it.
They stared. Expressions tinted with a softness and a fear that could only be combined like that in this instance. They imagined looking in each other's eyes for as long as it would take for the universe to stop expanding and everything around them to shut, leaving only them in a void, and it kind of felt like those things had already happened.
But it hadn't been an eternity. Or five billion years. Or five minutes. The cosmos was still in place and the only time passed was a short second and they snapped out of it. Harvey resumed the kiss.
This was the decision, to know her and keep knowing.
.
His back was resting against the headboard and he felt the weight of Donna's body crash his. She snuggled in him, deep in a sweet and profound sleep. He didn't know how they had ended up there or where they had been before that but he gently traced his fingers up and down her arm that was wrapped tightly around him. His heart was beating against her head on his chest. Loudly. He thought about how natural this felt and about how beautiful and soft she looked.
No part of this setting had occurred before and normally by now he would be out the door but as he sat there and the sky turned pink while she was still in his arms he felt peaceful and whole and a feeling that was new, greater than all of what he had ever known combined. So he thought, well, why not just stay? And how obvious it felt to stay, their common history flashing clear and bright around him.
They weren't choosing each other forever yet. What they had done was risked everything for a few hours, a few hours in the night where one touch looks like love and maybe that's what it is, the gift of a real person who wants you and every part of you, the only sign worth stopping for. But the neon light was too blinding then, so they kept moving for a while longer.
The problem with other people is that one thinks they know what the other is feeling, and one is always wrong. So they let go. But one day they discover that they've just been on opposite sides of the same damned place all along, and finally choose to stay.