Chapter 5
Acting as if nothing had happened wasn't exactly hard. It's what they always do, what they had always done, especially since never mentioning their agreement was part of their agreement.
"The first rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club," Harvey quoted that second night in her bed, the first of their agreement, as they discussed how this thing was going to work out. He was naked under the sheets and finding himself hilarious.
She rolled her eyes, hiding her amusement. "Is this supposed to sound like Brad Pitt? Also, if you refer to what we're doing as a 'club' again there really will be a fight here."
He had just laughed at her.
So yeah. They never really discuss it. Except for some heavy flirting they were physically unable to contain right before the main event. Except for when she broke up with him. How the hell she could possibly have broken up with him when they had never even been together is something Donna still can't wrap her own mind around.
Donna watched as Harvey and Scottie picked up the course of their relationship right where they had once left it – before they had even begun, she was under the impression they were already in the middle.
She can't help but wonder what would've happened if things were just a little bit different. Ponder if some slightly different decision would have been able to stop this turn of events. She hates herself for wondering if she had never gotten involved with Stephen, if they had just gone to the Hamptons together, if she hadn't broken the agreement, if…
If Harvey would be with Scottie.
It's a cruel doubt, some sort of self-punishment her mind imposes on her, but it's there, insistent and painful, every time she listens to way more than she ever wanted to on the intercom to his office.
He probably would, she tells herself. What they had was casual. It was a verbal contract that didn't involve feelings. Even though it definitely didn't feel like that when they were together. It felt so very real and not one-sided at all and she spends a long time trying to rid her mind of that idea because if they ever had a chance, they'd lost it.
But, as it turns out, a year is a pretty long amount of time. Even more than she realized.
It's long enough to see Harvey and Scottie's relationship crash and burn. Even while she genuinely, genuinely, tried to help, guiding him and trying to make him open and vulnerable with a woman who wasn't her, just because she couldn't stand the thought of seeing Harvey get hurt and not do anything to prevent it. Because she wants him to be happy. And it's not up to her to decide what that means.
It's long enough for her to forget her reasons or to think maybe they weren't as real and important as she once thought. Maybe she overreacted. Maybe she could control her feelings for Harvey.
She had been doing just that for so long and whether she's currently sleeping with him or not, if the last year has taught her anything it's that not being with Harvey is not the thing that's going to make her feelings change – if she even is capable of ever changing them at all.
Eventually she considers she probably pushed him away for no good reason because the feelings she was trying so hard to avoid are all still there, pounding inside her heart a year later, and although they're currently complication free she's not sure it's worth it for how much she misses him.
A year is long enough for her to regret her decision.
.
.
He had to meticulously time his exit from the office and carefully avoid her, which really wasn't the easiest task considering she has eyes behind her back and ears in his walls and full control over his calendar, but he proudly manages it, in time to be back with a few minutes to spare. When she struts out of the building, she spots him casually standing on the sidewalk by his car.
She smiles, not having expected to see him anymore tonight after she found his office empty. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to deliver these," he says as he pulls the bouquet of pink lilies from behind his back. Smooth. Casual. Just as he had planned.
"Who are those for?" She points at the flowers and for a second he can't decide if she's teasing him or genuinely asking.
"Who do you think they're for? For you. For your dressing room."
She smiles, accepting the flowers in her hands and almost blushing, which is so unusual for Donna he then knows that she really was asking and that his answer had the desired effect he'd wanted on her.
"Thank you," she says in a sweet tone.
Harvey smirks and opens the car door, a simple "Let's go," falling from his lips.
That surprises her much more than the flowers themselves, though. "You're coming?" she asks.
"You think I'm gonna miss your closing night?"
"I didn't know you were a Shakespeare fan?"
"I'm a Donna fan," he states proudly, not an ounce of shame about his cheesy line because goddamn it if it isn't true.
She looks away, smiles like it's an effort not to beam. And right at that moment, watching her holding those flowers, glowing under the street light, on her way to enter his car, he smiles to himself as the thought of how nice this is briefly floats in the back of his mind.
She has a second thought, turning just before she enters the car. "You know Harvey, you don't have to do this. I know you got a lot going on with Mike–"
He cuts her off immediately. There is honestly no place else he would rather be right now and absolutely no way he would miss the chance to watch Donna on that stage.
"The only thing I got going on tonight is you."
.
.
Donna knew he would wait for her after the show, so she changed into normal clothes as fast as she could, declined invitations from the cast and crew to go out to celebrate the last show of the season and stepped outside to find him, even if they hadn't made any sort of plans.
She doesn't have to look around long. He's right by the backstage door, casually leaning against the wall and scrolling his phone, which he promptly slides into his pocket when he spots her.
She smiles sweetly and raises her eyebrows questioningly at him, an amused and wordless what are you still doing here? because, even though she knew he would be there, she wouldn't miss the opportunity to toy with him.
"I thought I could take you out for a drink to celebrate your closing night," he answers her unspoken question, pushing off the wall and stepping closer to her, his own amused grin painting his face, even if a bit sheepish for his standards.
"You didn't think I was going to celebrate with the people who were actually in the play?" she teases.
"I knew there was a chance, but I thought the odds were in my favor."
"And why is that?"
He steps closer to her and shrugs, not wanting to lay all his cards on the table yet. "Sometimes you gotta trust you have a good hand."
It is not a lack of restraint he usually allows himself, but his gaze drops from her eyes, just a moment to admire that slit in her cleavage, the marine blue lace resting delicately over her breasts offering so little to gaze upon and so much to wish for.
"You were great tonight, by the way," he adds, his voice low and meaningful.
"I know you mean this well, but I don't appreciate limitations being placed on my greatness," she says, a smirk tugging the corners of her lips.
He grins at her sass. It never ceases to entertain him.
Then he glances at the street, following a passing car with his sight to avoid her eyes for long enough to steel himself for what he's about to say.
Harvey had thought a year was a long time when he was waiting to be with her but, as it turns out, it's longer when he's not. When they make each other laugh and he wants to press his mouth into her smile but knows he won't, ever. When they accidentally flirt but he knows it's never leading anywhere anymore. When they look at each other with lingering longing and realize they'll just keep longing.
But a year is a really long time and for once he hopes this works to his benefit. Hopes that maybe it's enough time for her to have changed her mind, for her to maybe miss him, for her to let him in. It's long enough for him to hope again.
"You know what day it is today, right?" he asks, tilting his head at her, his gaze involuntary dropping down to her body before he meets her eyes again.
Donna clutches the straps of her purse, focusing all the tension of her body into her knuckles so it doesn't show on her face. She slowly tilts her head, mirroring Harvey's movement in a way that says both Harvey and Of course I do.
He steps closer to her, stopping mere inches away. "I know you said… but that was so long ago and now we're here and I miss you like crazy."
He sounds both hesitant and determined and she gazes up at him, unsure of how to tell him she was wrong and it's really been so long and will he just take her home already because she also misses him like crazy.
After a second too long, her lips part to say one or all of those things, but he's done waiting.
"I'm gonna kiss you right now," he says quietly, with a soft smile, and not like he's asking, but just like he's amused by the fact that only he can make her speechless. Like he's telling her if she really wants to keep their agreement off she better find her words rather quickly because otherwise he is making this happen.
She doesn't find any words, but does find his lips, leaning to meet him halfway, his mouth softly moving against hers, his hands strong on her waist, pulling her closer. He angles his head and deepens their kiss and Donna places her hand on his face and kisses him back, in the middle of the sidewalk, in front of her theater, while a million tiny specs of light float around them. Within them.
.
.
They lay tangled together in her bed, naked in each other's arms, the white bedsheet barely covering anything, resting on her lower half while he has his arms around her waist.
They've been like this for a while now, in silence, resting after an earth-shattering first round. Her room is dimly lit and there's light rain pouring down outside. She feels cozy and relaxed in his arms, cheek resting on his naked chest, feeling it go up and down slowly, in the rhythm of his breathing, while his muscled arms hold her body against him.
"Are you cold?" he asks, a palm wrapping around her slender waist, softly traveling up to her ribs over the goosebumps on her skin.
She tells him no and before she can ask why, his knuckles lightly trace a line up the underside of her breast and around her hard nipple, making it even harder and her goosebumps tenfold.
"That's not the cold, Harvey," she says in an amused and aroused hum.
He grins, smug and happy about the effect he has on her and the fact that even right after everything he had just made her feel, she's still needy for him.
He still has his gaze fixed on her breasts, lost in his happy thoughts and in a daze of afterglow when her voice brings him back. "That's why you went tonight, wasn't it?" she asks accusingly, but the humor is evident in her tone.
He disentangles from her slightly, her head falling to the pillow as he props himself on an elbow to watch her face, his other hand absentmindedly traveling her body. Her waist, a thumb brushing over her stomach, fingertips sliding up to her ribs before lightly scratching their way down her belly. She feels like these goosebumps are never, ever going away now.
"Okay," he tells her, a sheepish smile on his lips. "I'd be lying if I told you I didn't think that maybe there was some hope that tonight we could…"
She bites her lips trying to hide her smile, but he doesn't hide his at all.
"But you know I never miss one of your plays," he adds.
"Never?"
"Never. So even if the only happy ending I got tonight was the one from The Merchant of Venice, I still would've gone."
She laughs, her giggles filling the silent space of the room, her shoulders shaking and she wants to tell him he's an idiot but he's gazing down at her with so much tenderness in his eyes, that she can't. His hand comes up to cup her face, thumb brushing her cheek. She watches him bite his own lip and shake his head in the slightest movement, leaning the tiniest bit closer and she thinks he's gonna kiss her. Instead, his eyes travel her face, the laughter in her eyes, her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her hair splayed on the pillow, the moment suddenly holding so much more weight.
Then he says, "No, really, I just went in hopes to see Louis in that outfit."
She spurts out a laugh and he's chuckling, grinning from cheek to cheek at seeing her like that.
"No, don't mock him," she tells him lightly, stopping her own laughter.
He scrunches his nose in confusion. Making fun of Louis is a great pastime and she was the one to text him that photo in the first place. "Why not?"
"He helped me so much with this."
"He did?"
"Yeah," she says, rolling on her side to sneak an arm around his middle. "I was so nervous opening night and I wasn't off-book yet and I was losing my shit."
Harvey's eyebrows shoot sky-high. "You were nervous?"
She chuckles. "Yeah. It happens sometimes. Not very often," she clarifies with a playful raise of her own eyebrows.
He takes a second, his fingers weaving into her hair and brushing it back, the soft strands sliding between his knuckles.
"You didn't tell me any of this," he says quietly.
Donna shrugs. "You were busy."
"Not for you."
He sounds so earnest. His voice in her favorite low and hoarse tone and she realizes he's right. No matter what had been going on, Harvey has always been there for her, just like he was tonight, even amongst the mess with Gillies and Mike, he was there for her.
"Next time I'll be sure to make you run some lines with me," she tells him.
"Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence and here choose I- Wait, what is it? Merry be the consequence?" Harvey loudly proclaims in the worst accent Donna's ever heard and that earns him a full belly laugh from her.
She buries her face in his chest, giggling, and Harvey keeps stroking her hair and silently laughing, glad to have her close like this. Their legs tangled together, Donna's feet touching his, her arm around him, fingertips lightly digging into his back, her hair tickling his chin. Everything feels so light and easy and he briefly considers what a tragedy it is that life doesn't always feel this way.
She places a quick peck on his chest, before rolling on her back again, smiling up at him. Harvey leans down and places a couple of soft kisses on her lips.
He leans back in time to watch her with her eyes still closed, the ghost of a smile on her lips. When she looks back at him, he takes her chin in his hand, his thumb landing on the corner of her mouth. He softly moves it over her lips, from one corner to the other.
"I like your mouth," he says quietly as his thumb reaches the middle of her mouth again and then he drags it slowly down, pulling her bottom lip along with it, just a little bit, just enough to expose the wetness of the inside of her lip to him, moistening the tip of his finger as she looks up at him with wide hazel eyes.
He pushes his thumb over her lips once more, just slightly inside to meet the tip of her tongue. Donna wraps her lips around his finger and sucks him in, eyes fixed on his, and Harvey watches, feeling his dick throb with envy.
He leans down, replacing his thumb with his tongue, the wet finger running down her chin and the column of her throat as he slides his tongue along hers, kissing her slow and thorough, softly nibbling on her bottom lip and sucking the top one into his mouth.
Donna hums deliciously and he can't help but smile into the kiss, moving even closer to her.
His hands roam her body, warm palms over creamy, satin-smooth skin. Her lower stomach, her arms, her thighs...
"You're soft," he lets the thought escape his lips in a murmur as he rolls on top of her, lips skimming the side of her neck, right under her ear.
Donna lets out a hoarse chuckle, welcoming his body against hers, her arms circling his middle, fingernails lightly scratching the curve of his back.
"And you're tiny," he says.
She can't help but to snort. "What?! I am not tiny."
He moves his lips from her neck to look at her and nods to emphasize his point. "When you're out of your heels, yes you are."
"Harvey, I am 5ft 9!"
"Whatever, look, I can cover your entire body with mine," he says, pressing his weight on top of her, legs tangled, her face buried in his neck as she laughs and tries to squirm away from him but he won't let her, crushing her in place, a hand on her slender waist keeping her close. "Because you're tiny."
Her hands slide around his muscled body and wrap around his waist when he balances his weight on his elbows at each side of her, giving her a chance to breathe. He looks at her and it's quiet and lingering. Then he brings his lips to hers slowly, brushing against hers again and again before he softly sucks her bottom lip between his own. She hums against him, caressing his skin and giving herself to his kisses.
Donna runs her hands down his toned back, his muscles contracting at the touch of her fingertips, sliding down to his ass and kneading, digging her short fingernails into him and Harvey groans around her tongue, grinding down between her legs.
She uses her legs to guide him, rolling on top of him, her hair draping around their faces as she keeps kissing him. Harvey reaches for her face to push the hair away, but she leans back, sitting on top of him, sliding down to position herself right over his cock, pressed against his stomach.
She places her palms on his chest and moves her body slowly, forwards and back, sliding her wet pussy lips against his erection. Harvey's hands are on her hips trying to make her grind down harder, but she keeps control of the pace, flicking his nipples again and again with her thumbs, watching Harvey slowly lose control under her, lips parted, heavy breathing, desperate to bury himself inside her.
But the thing is, the tip of his cock hits right at her clit at each motion forward and, though she would like to tease him some more, she's getting desperate herself so she lifts up on her knees, takes the base of his cock in hand and positions the tip at her entrance. Then she sinks herself down on him as slowly as she can, Harvey moaning at the feel of her tight, warm walls engulfing him an inch at a time until she's sitting on him again and he's completely inside of her.
She leans back a bit, placing her hands on his thighs for support and starts moving up and down on him and gyrating her hips and goddammit she's going to kill him. Her hair cascades down her back and he has this wonderful view of her breasts bouncing, of her pale, freckly torso and flat stomach down to the place where they're joining and he watches entranced as she moves him in and out of her, a perfect view of her stretched around his girth and her pink, swollen clit.
His hands travel everywhere. Stroking her thighs, cupping her breasts to feel them bounce on his palms, gripping her waist to pull her down harder. A hand smoothes down her stomach until he reaches her center, his thumb starts rubbing her clit in time with her unhurried movements and Donna whimpers and pants, mouth open, eyes fixed on his, watching his concentration on her pleasure.
This is amazing but he wants her closer, needs her closer. So he leans up, sitting on the mattress and keeping Donna on his lap, her legs wrapped around him, their stomachs pressed together, her hard nipples rubbing his chest as they move in tandem and he kisses her deeply.
She kisses his mouth and his face, her lips finding his jawline, his eyebrow, his temple, and he can feel each one of her moans crash hotly against his skin. He licks up her neck, kisses her throat and chin. He doesn't usually get those romantic speeches and empty philosophies about connection and how sex could be more than sex, more than physical, but when he's with Donna he does.
He's never felt this close to anyone in his entire life and this feeling is only marginally related to her body – how she's tightly wrapped around him, how their skin rubs together and how her tongue tastes inside his mouth. Mostly, it's about the way she makes him feel – blissful and complete – and about how he feels her all around and within him.
She kisses up his neck and then her mouth meets his ear, nipping his lobe softly before she murmurs, her words hoarse and hot into his ear, telling him how close she is, and how good he is, and how good he makes her feel, and if he's the best closer in the city then he better close her right now.
Only her voice in his ear and her words almost close him. He gathers all his self control to not let go and to keep moving within her, his hand pressing harder on her lower back to force her against him and grind her clit against his pubic bone as he keeps thrusting his hips into her mercilessly and sucks hard on her collarbone.
Donna's panting and moaning, her arms tightly around his neck, fingernails digging crescent marks into him and she moans his name again and again like it's the only word she's even known, quivering on Harvey's lap.
He's gripping the soft flesh of her ass tightly, using his hold on her to keep moving her body on top of his as she goes limp and breathless in his arms and, god, he loves coming inside her, feeling her wet and warm and tight and all around him, having her neck to bury his face in and muffle his groans, and her touch to bring him down from his high.
They stay joined for a while, calming their breathing. Harvey smooths his hands up and down her spine and Donna keeps her head on his shoulder, hugging him lightly. It's soft and quiet and the raindrops tapping against the windows almost lull them into sleep.
She eventually straightens her body on top of him to find his soft brown eyes. Harvey smiles, hands still caressing her back, and Donna bumps her nose against his. He thinks it's adorable and smiles harder, softly pressing his lips to hers.
"You were great tonight, too, by the way," she tells him with a huge smile on her face.
He just laughs at her.
.
.
She walks him to the door and he kisses her goodnight. And kisses her again and again, one hand cupping her face, the other resting on her waist, taking his time tasting her lips as if that's not what he'd just spent half the night doing and he looks at her before he leaves, an emotion stuck in his irises, something inexplicably similar to what she could only call longing, and she doesn't get why he would leave if he longed to stay, so she figures she must've read that wrong.
.
.
Fight club.
They don't ever mention it.
Months and months pass and life and Harvey are just the same as always so she figures she had definitely read him wrong that night.
But then Liberty Rail happens.
She commits a fraud trying to help on a case and crumbles in front of Harvey in fear and he tells her how the thought of her going to prison makes him want to drop to his knees.
He fights to save her and he's a man who's constantly fighting the world but she had never seen Harvey fight this hard or this relentlessly for anything else in his life.
He doesn't comfort her, not initially, but he does protect her with everything he has. And he saves her.
She invites him to her apartment to celebrate and cooks him dinner. Candles light her living room as they go through a couple bottles of wine and they talk and laugh and are so comfortable together like this kind of domesticity belongs to them. She looks into his eyes and sees a whole life.
He tells her that he won't ever let anything happen to her and that she doesn't ever have to feel scared like that again and the way he looks at her, the way his voice sounds... It pulls on every string tethering her heart in place.
He tells her how if anyone else ever loses faith in him it doesn't matter, but with her it's different.
And then it hits her.
It hits her slow and hard, crashing into her chest with a monumental force in a single second that seems to stretch years back to when they first met.
He does feel it. He clearly does and he has to because this feeling is larger than life and so irrefutable that how could he not and what kind of fools are they for not being together when this feels so right, so perfect.
He looks like he's going to kiss her but his mouth decides to tell her he has to go instead.
She has never, ever done this before but for once she decides to question his feelings for her. Why. Why are they doing this? Why the hell is he leaving again like he always does when he could stay forever?
He tells her he loves her and that she's supposed to know.
But he still leaves.
.
.
AN: Happy Intent anniversary! Let's pretend I timed this chapter to match that. Also, my birthday is today so happy birthday to me!... watching Intent and sobbing.
Anyways, I'm sorry about the longer wait, guys. I'm burned out and busy and this fic is getting harder. But we power through!
Thank you for all your amazing, encouraging, loving reviews. They mean so much! Thank you Blue for the never ending amount of love and support. And a very special thank you to Sam, author of that incredibly sexy line where Donna tells Harvey to close her, which I love so much and she generously let me use here.