Prompt #2 by chrystelle_m: Set after the Stephen fiasco, Donna doesn't trust men anymore so after some drinks and dancing with Harvey at the Pearson Specter Christmas party she proposes that they use each other for sex whenever they need it.
Harvey takes a sip of champagne, feeling surprisingly jovial given his past apprehension of the holiday season. After his parents' divorce, he loathed celebrating Christmas, and each year the day serves as a painful reminder that he isn't close with his family. But tonight, a week before the official holiday, he's trying to put his inner grinch aside. While he managed to ignore Mike's subtle hints about lifting office morale, Donna's unusual lack of enthusiasm triggered his worry over her recent quietness. Since Huntley's arrest, and the dissolution of Pearson Darby Specter, she hasn't seemed her normal, bubbly self.
When he caught her throwing out the invite to the annual firm's Christmas party, an event she looks forward to all year, he spontaneously invited her as his date to try and cheer her up. After some back and forth negotiating, she reluctantly agreed to tag along to keep him from getting bored, but made him promise nothing fancy, like getting her hair and make-up done, or making an entrance.
They agreed to get changed at the office and then take a cab, which is why he's a little buzzed. He brought out the champagne while he was waiting for her, assuming she'd be quick, but he's already on his third glass, and about to check the time again, when she flusters in, tugging on the strap of her stiletto.
He straightens against the edge of his desk, grateful she's distracted, as his eyes brazenly take in the red dress she has on. It's mid-length with thin straps, the material hugging a daring side split, and his cheeks warm as she fumbles to get her heel in place, giving him a generous view of her cleavage.
He forces his gaze away as she rights herself, clearing his throat, and picking up the champagne he poured her. "I like the dress," he comments, teasing her. "I thought we said nothing fancy."
She rolls her eyes, taking the glass and downing its contents.
"Basic enough?" She hands the flute back with a smirk.
He chuckles, setting it down as he finishes his own.
She leans in, fixing his bowtie, and straightening the edges with a critical eye.
When Harvey asked her to go to the party as his date, she thought he was joking. But then he mentioned Jessica wanted him there as a face after the dissolved merger, and he didn't feel like inviting anyone else so soon after Scottie. She'd immediately felt bad for avoiding the subject. Just because Dana didn't turn out to be a sociopath like Stephen, doesn't mean Harvey wasn't hurt during the breakup, and so she agreed to come tonight to make it up to him.
Taking a step back, she's pleased with her handiwork. "You said something about fun?"
"I believe I said 'tolerable.'" He smirks, moving to scoop her coat off the chair. "But I'm game if you are, Paulsen." He holds open the fabric, and she slips into the sleeves, shrugging the material over her shoulders. With a light touch, he places his palm against the base of her spine. "After you."
His charm washes over her, but she does relax around his warm presence. Even though she's officially sworn off dating, a night out with easy company might be what she needs to get her mojo back.
And if not, there's a tub of Chunky Monkey waiting in the freezer with her name on it.
...
Harvey bellows laughter into his glass, and Donna fights a smile, her cheeks flushing scarlet as they draw the attention of several people standing around them. "Shhh," she giggles, elbowing him in the side. "You're going to get us kicked out."
He wipes moisture from the corner of his eye, ignoring the warning. He'd rather hear more about Albuquerque, and he swallows another laugh. "You told me you'd never been to New Mexico."
"Now you know why I lied." She grins, unable to help getting caught up in his gleaming gaze. They're probably already a few too many tequilas in, and when she spots Jessica parting the crowd, she tugs at his arm, dragging him around to the other side of the bar.
He quickly follows, not wanting to be spotted by his boss. Jessica wanted him to mingle, but despite being surrounded by clients, he hasn't thought about work once since Donna started telling him stories of her ill-spent youth. He's combatted a few of them with his own tales, but what she did in Albuquerque is something he's going to be teasing her over for years to come.
"No." She waggles her finger as he motions over the bartender. "I know that look, and you do not get to mention that story in the office, or anywhere else someone could overhear."
He swipes his chest with mock promise, grinning as he orders them another round of shots. "Two more, thanks."
"That's it. I'm quitting." She flips her palms up, not surprised when he shrugs.
"Good. I really think this whole thing has run its course," he quips, snorting softly when she slaps his arm.
"You're an idiot." She takes the tequila when it lands in front of her, knocking it back with a shudder and covering a small cough. When she shakes off the burn, she sees Harvey still nursing his shot, and she hooks up an eyebrow. "Giving up already?"
"No, just…" He hesitates. Even though he noticed her keeping to herself, he didn't realize how much he missed seeing her smile. And he doesn't want to make a big deal over his worry. Her work hasn't slipped, and as far as he's concerned, the less they talk about Stephen, the better. But he's relieved to see her enjoying herself, and he shakes off the pause. "I'm glad you agreed to come with me, that's all."
He swings back his shot, and she dips her head, hiding the warmth burning her cheeks, They attend this event every year, but usually with respective dates on their arms, and they might be shirking their responsibilities, but this is the most fun she's had at a Christmas party in a while. "This almost reminds me of the Christmas parties at the DA's Office."
He sets his glass down with a wince. "That shitty bourbon Cameron used to make us drink. God, do you remember?"
"I wish I didn't." The hangover that followed usually lasted a week. But there were no clients and half as many cases to worry about. It was just an informal office gathering of employees making questionable decisions under the guise of alcohol. "I do remember you getting on the dance floor."
She prods his side, and an excited jolt rushes through him. The music isn't as upbeat, not the Travolta vibe from Cameron's collection, but there are a few older couples swaying to some carols across the room, and he extends his hand with a smug grin. "Never say, never ever."
She glances around at their fellow peers, Louis, Mike and Rachel, who are dispersed in random groups and actually trying to please Jessica by taking the night seriously. "People will talk," she warns, aware if they leave the bar, they'll blow their cover.
"Let them." He could care less about what anyone else thinks. If Jessica wants to rake him over hot coals on Monday, he'll simply tell her he was doing the firm a justice by getting Donna back on her feet.
She sinks her hand into his grasp, and he gently pulls her out into the open, smiling as he slides them into the other couples dancing. His palm settles at her waist, pulling her closer as he sways her to the music, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "If we really want to cause a stir, we should go searching for some mistletoe."
He turns to her, his shoulders flexing beneath her fingertips, and she suspects he's waiting for a witty comeback, but she doesn't have one. He asked her why she broke her rule for Stephen, and she told him it was because she needed to start living her life. But maybe monogamy and fairytale endings are just a fantasy she conjured up. The chemistry between her and Harvey is there and easy. She used to feel sorry for the women he showed off on his arm, but perhaps she judged too harshly, because she's tired of always risking her heart for no reward. "We don't need mistletoe." She lifts her lips to his ear with a sultry whisper. "What if I ask you to come back to my place instead?"
A shiver travels down his spine, and he tilts his head down to look at her. He would almost swear she was being serious, but he plays off the suggestion with a low laugh. "Then I'd have to wonder how many tequila shots you had while I was in the bathroom?"
She stops swaying, causing nerves to flutter in his stomach.
"Harvey." She lets go of him, feeling invigorated and more like herself than she has in weeks. Maybe it's the alcohol loosening her inhibitions, but she feels no shame in propositioning him. "I'm going to get my coat, and then I'm leaving. It's up to you if you want to follow me.."
He stiffens as she leans in again, placing a feather-light kiss against his cheek while she subtly brushes his cock. He has no idea what's going on, but he curses his body for responding, his throat dry as the Sahara desert. "What about—"
"It's just sex," she whispers, urging him not to overthink the offer as she pulls back.
Those three words used to be his gospel, but hearing them come from Donna taints them with hesitation. The tightness in his pants is an obvious indicator he's more than willing. Hell, he'd be an idiot to turn her down. But alarm bells sound, warning him off acting impulsively. She hasn't been herself recently, and inviting him over is more proof there's something else going on. "I… Jessica. I shouldn't leave without doing the rounds." He fumbles over the excuse, searching for a way out to clear his head.
She shrugs indifferently, taking a leaf out of his play book. She isn't offended, because he's clearly affected, and she runs her gaze pointedly down, and then back up with a smirk. "If you change your mind, you know where I'll be. Good night, Harvey."
She turns, and he holds his breath as she weaves away from him, his feet itching to follow. God knows he thinks about the time they slept together more often than he should, but those moments are veiled in secrecy. He's allowed to fantasize, because no harm can come from a vivid imagination, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a real hand clamp down on his shoulder.
"Whoa, easy there old man." Mike grins, teasing his friend, but his brow quickly furrows at Harvey's serious expression. "Everything okay?"
Harvey shakes his head. Mike almost gave him a heart attack, but Donna seems intent on sending him to an early grave first, and he shrugs away from the younger man. "I need some air."
Mike instantly yields, letting Harvey stride toward the back balcony, but it doesn't escape his notice that Harvey is heading in the opposite direction from where he just saw Donna leave. The pair have been inseparable all night, and he's been keeping his distance, but his feet quickly rush to catch up with Harvey, concern building as he follows the man out onto the small, private alcove surrounded by hedges. He closes the glass sliding door behind him, shutting out the noise from the party. "What happened?"
Mike doesn't beat around the bush, and Harvey leans his palms against the retaining wall, taking in a much needed deep inhale. He's not in the habit of sharing his personal problems, but he isn't usually this off kilter when it comes to his feelings. For all the doubt he faced while dating Scottie, he never once felt this conflicted. "Donna, she's…"
He stops, not sure how to explain her proposition.
"What?" Mike's brows furrow with a deeper worry. Rachel has expressed her concern over Donna more than once recently, and he's noticed a change, too. But for Harvey to pay attention, he's almost certain something is seriously wrong. "Is she okay?"
Harvey turns, brushing his nose awkwardly. "She wants to…"
He trails off again, and Mike shakes his head, confused. "She wants to what?" The look Harvey sends in return is one of complete hopelessness, and Mike deciphers the hesitation as meaning Donna finally told Harvey how she feels. The explanation would make sense, given how close the two have seemed tonight, and he spells it out for Harvey. "She wants more."
The assumption couldn't be further from the truth, and Harvey shrugs. "Not exactly." Mike clearly doesn't take the hint, his brows still pinched with confusion, and he sighs." She proposed something... else. Fewer strings attached."
Understanding finally dawns on Mike, leaving him surprised. But as shocking as the revelation is, he can't help but answer Harvey's hesitation with a smirk. "Oh… You poor man."
The unhelpful sarcasm doesn't translate well, and Mike clears his throat sheepishly. Harvey's right, the proposal isn't like Donna, but the fact Harvey is here and debating what to do gives him a unique opportunity to provide some insight into the situation. "If I ask something, do you promise not to bite my head off?"
"Go ahead. I already regret this entire conversation," he huffs, waving his hand dismissively.
Mike isn't discouraged. If this is his chance to help his friends see what they mean to each other, he's going to take it. "Are you worried about Donna, or are scared because, deep down, you don't want to settle for less?"
If he really thinks about the answer, both are true, but he deflects from Mike's knowing look. "What if I don't want to complicate things?"
"Then you would have turned her down, and we wouldn't be standing here." Continuing to play devil's advocate, Mike gives Harvey another push. "If you want to be with Donna, but you don't want to keep things casual, shouldn't that tell you something?"
Harvey stiffens, but he doesn't have an argument to fall back on. He can't think of anything worse than spending the night with her and then being forced to pretend being with her doesn't mean anything. But he's discouraged from admitting the truth, because he messed things up with Scottie, and he couldn't handle Donna getting hurt the same way, especially not after everything she went through with Stephen. "She deserves better," he utters, avoiding Mike's gaze, and sinking his hands into pockets.
"Donna deserves someone who can put her needs first," Mike admits. "Tell me you're not doing that right now." He doesn't back down, because self -deprecation doesn't suit Harvey. The man would dive in front of a train for Donna, and if he's scared of screwing up, he can confidently speak on Donna's behalf. "Harvey, Donna knows you better than anyone. If you want to be with her, all you have to do is be yourself."
"When did you start writing for Hallmark?" Harvey grumbles, even though he lets the advice sink in. He had no idea what he was doing half the time he was dating Scottie, but Mike's right, Donna is different. She's seen him at his worst, and he trusts her more than anyone else. He may be career driven, but she's the only person he would even consider giving everything up for, and he shrugs his hands out of his pockets, hit by the sudden realization he knows exactly what he should do. "Don't quit your day job," he ribs Mike, but he brushes the man's arm with a squeeze in passing.
Mike watches Harvey head for the door, smiling as he calls out. "You're welcome." Harvey's gestures are few and far between, but he has hope he might have just set a Christmas miracle into motion.
...
Harvey bangs on Donna's door, his heart hammering as he hears the click of the lock. When the barrier finally pulls back, revealing her standing in a skimpy negligee with a coy smile, he hesitates. She thinks he came over to take her up on her offer, yet the reason he's here couldn't be further from the truth. But his words fall short as his eyes roam over the lacy peach silk hugging her form.
Her long steps make room for him to enter, and he lunges forward without the fear of consequences. He can't deny he wants her and kicks the door closed behind him, his hands grasping her waist as he kisses her, channeling his adrenaline into her needy gasp.
Her fingers rake through his hair as she stumbles back, dragging him with her, and when he hoists her onto the table in the entry-way, her heels wrap around him with a groan.
She rocks her hips against his groin, the action jolting him out of the kiss, and sinks his mouth into the crook of her neck, breathing heavily. If he wasn't sure before, he knows now he can't be sated by a quick tryst. He wants more, and he squeezes the flimsy material at her waist, keeping his hands buried there so he can coax her into slowing down.
The stalling frustrates her, and she lifts his head, teasing kisses along his jaw, but he stiffens, unmoving beneath the advance, and she stops with a huff. "What's wrong?"
"What are we doing?" he asks, finding her gaze.
"Isn't that obvious?" She loops her fingers through his bowtie, trying to coerce him back into the moment. "We're two consenting adults, having some fun." She tugs the knot free, slipping her hands beneath his jacket and shrugging it off.
He lets it fall to the floor, his muscles flexing as she starts undoing his buttons, but he catches her wrists. "And then?"
"Then..." She hums, not being deterred. "Whatever you want." She shrugs herself loose, holding his jaw as she steals any more questions with teasing kisses along neck. After Stephen, she's not looking to jump into bed with Harvey on her lunch break. But if they find themselves drunk and horny in the future, she's not ruling anything out.
His hands move of their own violation, cupping her curves and breasts as she sucks on his lip, and then his throat, but he only loses focus for a moment before his rational senses kick in. What she thinks he wants is just sex, and he wrenches himself away more forcefully, wincing when her eyes flash with irritation.
"What is your problem?" she snaps. The bulge straining in his pants is evidence he wants to be with her, and slips her legs off the table, swearing under her breath. "Jesus. You're acting like you've never had a one-night stand before."
His expression fills with guilty hesitation, his eyes softening the same way they always do when he's showing her he cares, and she shakes her head adamantly. "No. You've got to be kidding me." Her hand trembles as it jerks back, knocking over the vase behind her. After years of waiting for him to wake up, he can't just choose now to decide he wants sex to mean something, and she leans into her anger, stepping forward and shoving his chest out of the way. "Go home, Harvey."
He stumbles, not sure if he should follow her. But the rejection doesn't just bruise his ego. He's worried by how quickly her temper flared up, and he trudges into the living room behind her. "Donna, wait."
She ignores him, heading straight for the bottle of whiskey she put out, because she assumed, if Harvey did come over, he wasn't going to complicate what was supposed to be an easy exchange.
She pours a large glass, taking a hefty swig, and he intervenes, prising the drink from her hand. Her stubborn glare doesn't scare him, but he is concerned she went straight to the alcohol. "Hey, talk to me. What's really going on?"
"Nothing." She feels exposed beneath his probing gaze, folding her arms over her chest. "I thought we were on the same page. Clearly, we aren't."
Hesitation rolls off her in droves, and he doesn't believe for a second she'd be happy with a quick fling. Something else is going on, and he sets the glass down, bringing up the subject they've both been avoiding. "Am I really the problem here? Or is this about Huntley?"
Her eyes flash angrily at the mention of her ex. "Why, Harvey? Are you suddenly frigid because of Scottie?" Last time she checked, casual arrangements were his go-to, and she doesn't understand why he's still standing in her apartment if he's not interested. "I told you, just go home. Forget I suggested anything." He will anyway, because that's what he's good at, sweeping things under the rug. She thought they could at least take advantage of that trait tonight, but the assumption was just another thing she's gotten wrong recently.
She storms off through the lounge, and this time he doesn't make the same mistake of chasing after her, wincing when he hears a door slam somewhere out of view. With a hollow sigh, he retraces his steps back to her entry-way, picking up his clothes, and straightening the vase she knocked over. Tomorrow he'll try to fix more than just the decor, but for now, putting some distance between them is for the best.
At least, that's what he hopes.
...
Donna squints at her coffee, her head pounding as daylight streams into her apartment. She feels terrible. Her hangover aside, she's mortified by her behavior towards Harvey last night.
For weeks, she's been searching for a way to strip herself of the vile feeling Stephen left crawling beneath her skin. Sleeping with a murderer is bad enough, but she was blinded by the relationship, unable to see through his veil of lies. And worse, she's ashamed of herself for enjoying the attention. For once, Rachel had gossip to probe, and Harvey was forced to look at her as someone other than just his secretary. But she kept her eyes closed to Stephen's manipulative flaws when she should have known better.
Last night, under the thrall of tequila, she wanted to use Harvey as a distraction, to forget about her failure for a few hours. A terrible idea, which in hindsight makes her groan as she swallows another sip of bitter caffeine. She doesn't know how she's going to face him at the office on Monday, but she has a 48 hour grace period to wallow in her embarrassment, and under no circumstances is she going to replay his heated kiss or the way his hands had caressed her body. Luckily, the sting of his rejection is enough to taint the memory. But truthfully, she's glad he stopped her. She thought a casual affair would hurt less, but sooner or later, her heart would have woken up to what it really craves.
A sudden knock jolts her hand, spilling cover over the table, and she swears softly under her breath. She's not in the mood to deal with people, but she drags herself up, assuming the owner of the sound is someone in the building. Anyone else would call first, and she trudges her way to the door, leaning her weight against the frame as she opens it.
"Hey." Harvey watches her eyes widen, and he smiles sheepishly. He debated phoning ahead, but didn't want to run the risk of her hanging up. "I brought breakfast." He holds up a brown paper bag and the coffee in his hand.
"I…" she falters, frowning. He shouldn't be here, at least not looking as chipper as he does, but she reluctantly pulls the door back. Maybe it is better to clear the air now, rather than let her embarrassment fester over the weekend.
He takes the invitation as a good sign and steps inside, making his way through to her living room. He diverts at the entrance to the kitchen, returning with two plates, and he sets everything down on her table. When he notices a spill, he digs one of the napkins out of the bag, wiping up the mess, and smirking at her. "Rough night?"
Heat burns her cheeks as she reaches for the cup of fresh coffee. She doesn't need anymore caffeine. Her limbs are already shaky with too much adrenaline, but she nurses the drink almost like a prop as she tries to make sense of why Harvey's here and making jokes. "I've had better," she admits tentatively.
He nods, taking in her pale features, and guessing she went back to the whiskey after he left. But her sullen appearance just proves he was right to come over, and he takes a seat, concealing his worry as he plates the pastries from the bag. "Here, eat something. Food will help."
She watches him slide over a croissant from her favorite bakery, perplexed as he steals her old coffee, taking a sip for himself. "Okay. What's going on?" she asks, her embarrassment giving way to complete confusion. She expected him to be mad, disengaged at the very least, but he's here, acting like breakfast together on a Saturday morning is a completely normal occurrence.
He motions for her to sit, waiting until she does before he even attempts to start the conversation he wanted to have last night. When she's seated, he gazes across at her seriously. "I'm worried about you."
She stiffens, not asking for his charity, but after the way she acted, and the gesture he made by coming over, she owes him an explanation. "You were right." Her gaze blinks at the bright window with a sigh. "Stephen is in my head. I didn't see what he was capable of, and I should have."
She fidgets awkwardly with the lid of her cup, her nails scrapping the plastic, and he clenches then relaxes his fist beneath the table. Her relationship with Huntley bothered him, but he's more angry the man is still having this much of an effect on her. "Nobody blames you, Donna."
"But I blame myself," she admits quietly, shaking her head. "Let's face it, my track record with men before Stephen wasn't that great, either."
She glances at him, then quickly looks away, and he feels like an asshole for being part of the problem. She's been here in front of him this whole time, but he kept her at arm's length, for fear of hurting them both, when he should have trusted that not all relationships are doomed to fail. Things didn't work out with Scottie, but they didn't end up hating each other. And everything that was missing between the two of them, like loyalty and open communication, he has with Donna. She turned to him last night for a reason, and he needs to know if she was just acting out or if there was more behind her advances. "Is that why you wanted a fling? Because I just happened to be there?"
She meets his gaze, reading hurt beneath his expression, and she doesn't know if the truth comes easily because she's used to swaddling his ego, or because she's just plain tired of playing games. "You were there first, Harvey."
His chest swells with relief, but she has the opposite reaction, switching from her coffee to pick at her croissant. But he isn't hiding from anything this time. "And I want to be here last." Her eyes snap up, but before she can ask what he means, he drags his chair closer to her. "I don't want something casual, Donna." He sits up, splaying his hand across the table where it rests near her plate. "I came over last night because I want something more. And I've never admitted that to myself before, but it's true. The reason things didn't work out with Scottie, or anyone else for that matter, is because nobody else is you."
She takes in the conviction in his gaze, stunned into silence, until his thumb brushes her fingers, and he whispers huskily.
"Maybe we could make some amendments to your proposal. What do you say?"
She gapes at him, but after the display she put on last night, and the warmth of his touch guiding her, she trusts he's being completely sincere, and she blinks through a watery smile. "I think I know a lawyer who will negotiate for me."
He grins, sweeping her forward, the taste of coffee on her lips just as tantalizing as tequila or whipped cream.
She leans into his kiss, the echoes of her doubts fading, and this time for the right reasons as he pulls her across into her lap. They're finally on the same page, and it's the page she wanted to be on all along.