A/N: Inspired by this tweet /darveyasp0rn/status/1840823681771323632
Grief
Donna picks up the shampoo bottle resting on the ledge, and squeezes some of the creamy mixture into her palm, the scent of eucalyptus and mint rising between them as she moves closer to him. Harvey's eyes are closed, his head slightly tilted back, shoulders still tense.
She brings her hands to his scalp, her fingers slipping through his wet hair. The gentle touch sends a shiver down his spine, and she notices how his breath hitches as her fingers begin massaging slow, soothing circles into his scalp.
The water trickles down his back, warmth cascading over his body as steam fills the shower.
She leans in, her body resting lightly against his. She presses her lips softly against the curve of his spine, feeling his muscles respond, relaxing under her caress.
Harvey lets out a deep sigh. He loves the way her hands move against his scalp, sudsing the shampoo into his hair, making him feel completely at ease.
He turns around slowly, his eyes meeting hers—deep, rich, and brimming with unspoken gratitude.
Donna swallows as he gazes at her, the depth of emotion behind those beautiful coffee eyes pulling her in. She rises onto her tiptoes, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingers.
"I love you," she whispers, her breath warm against his lips before she closes the distance, kissing him softly.
His hand cups her face, his thumb grazing her cheek, and when he pulls back, his voice is barely a murmur. "Thank you."
A small frown tugs at her lips as she tilts her head. "What for?"
He exhales, and there's something in the way he looks at her—something raw and real, his voice rough with emotion. "Being here. With me. For everything." Her lips quirk into a gentle, understanding smile, the warmth of her gaze telling him what she doesn't say.
Donna grabs the lavender soap, and carefully tends to each muscle in his body, every inch of his skin.
She massages the tension from his shoulders, her fingers kneading gently along his back, then down his arms, his chest, rinsing away the soap and with it, some of the heaviness he carries.
Harvey lets his head fall back, his eyes closed, completely surrendering to the moment. Then, without a word, they switch places.
Donna tilts her head back, water soaking her fiery hair as she reaches for the shampoo. She squirts a generous amount into her palm, working the lather through her hair.
Droplets of water cling to her skin, glistening under the soft light, and Harvey can't help but reach out, running his fingers down her back.
She glances over her shoulder at him, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're not helping," she teases, rinsing the suds from her hair.
He chuckles softly but steps back, letting her finish. Donna tilts her head from side to side, rinsing out the last of the shampoo, and runs her hands through her hair one last time.
With the shower nearing its end, she shuts off the water. Harvey steps out first, grabbing a towel from the rack and shaking the excess water from his hair.
He rubs the towel over his face, but before he can dry himself off, Donna steps out behind him, taking the towel from his hand.
He watches her as her hands move over him with such tenderness, as if he were a precious fabric which might be damaged by more careless handling. It's in these quiet moments, he thinks, that he realizes how much she's become his home.
"Turn around," she says quietly, moving down his back to his feet when he does what she asks.
When she's satisfied that he is dry enough, Donna pulls back, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she begins drying herself off. She moves efficiently, but with the same care she's just given to him.
Harvey watches her, unable to tear his eyes away. The way her hair clings to her damp skin, the soft curve of her body illuminated by the dim light—they are details he's seen a hundred times, yet right now, they seem more profound.
A small, unguarded smile pulls at his lips, and before he can stop himself, the words slip out. "You are so gorgeous."
Donna pauses mid-motion, her eyes flicking to his, and a nervous giggle escapes her. She quickly drops the towel, her fingers fumbling as she reaches for the body lotion on the counter.
Heat rises to her cheeks as she tries to focus on the task at hand, but the rare feeling of self-consciousness settling in her chest under his adoring gaze is impossible to ignore.
Before she can get down to moisturizing, Harvey moves toward her, his bare feet silent against the floor. She doesn't notice him until his arms snake around her waist, pulling her gently into him.
The warmth of his body against her damp skin sends a shiver through her, and she leans back into him instinctively, letting out a soft breath.
"I wouldn't have survived today if it weren't for you," Harvey whispers, the vulnerability in his voice breaking through the walls he's built around his grief.
He presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, and she feels the sigh that ripples through his naked form—a release of tension, of the sadness that still lingers beneath the surface.
"I wish she could've met you," he continues, his voice low. There's a wistful note to his words, and Donna can hear the unspoken longing, the ache of loss. "Marcus is right… She would've loved you, Donna."
She closes her eyes, her hand covering his on her waist, squeezing it gently, before she turns in his arms.
She lifts a hand to his cheek, and for a moment, she just looks at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, as she strokes her thumb repeatedly over his skin.
"It's gonna be okay, Harvey," she finally says. There's a tremor in her voice, but it's steady, filled with a certainty she hopes he'll believe, even if it's hard for him right now.
His words come out in a quiet breath. "I know."
He raises a hand to her face, gently pushing back the strands of her red hair that have fallen across her forehead. His touch is tender, almost reverent, as if grounding himself in her presence.
She moves to take his hand, but Harvey catches hers instead and brings her palm to his lips. A calmness envelopes them as they stare deeply into each other's eyes. Grief fades, replaced by leisurely want.
Harvey feathers kisses up the inside of her forearm until he reaches the surprisingly sensitive flesh on the inside of her elbow. He caresses the sweet spot with the tip of his tongue, causing a dull ache deep in Donna's core.
"Harvey," she moans as she closes her eyes, delighting in the sensation as the ache creeps slowly, tingling through her body.
His mouth moves along, alternating kisses and tongue, painting a sinful path. As he makes his course along her bicep and over her shoulder, wisps of hair brush against skin, sending shivers down her spine.
When he gently cups her buttocks in his hands and picks her up, Donna curls her legs around his waist. They both groan as her calves hook around the backs of his thighs. Her fingers link behind his neck, keeping him against her.
Harvey sets her on the bathroom vanity, then grabs her hips and slides her all the way to the edge until she is flush up against him. She stares up at him, eyes glazed over with feverish desire.
"Isn't this a little inappropriate?" she asks, slightly concerned, but there's a hint of a smirk on her face. "People are literally downstairs mourning your mother."
"And you offered to take care of me to make me feel better," he murmurs against her neck.
She snort-giggles. "Yeah, by giving you a shower, Harvey. But now we're—" She gasps in pure ecstasy when he latches his mouth over her throat and sucks.
"Making love," he finishes her sentence, his voice muffled by her skin as he brushes his lips across her chest, down between her breasts, ever slower as he moves south.
His hand slips between her thighs, his fingers parting the soft curls covering her mound. Her entire body jerks in response, a low moan escaping her lips, when he slowly, very slowly, draws his middle finger along the cleft, up and then back down.
She is already soaked, already swollen, as Harvey's fingers tease the soft pink folds of her femininity.
He gazes for a moment at her. She is radiant with desire, eyes closed tight, with her knuckles between her teeth as she attempts to stay quiet just from this light touch.
"It's alright... They won't hear you." He positions himself between her legs, anchoring himself with his arms wrapped around Donna's thighs, and settles in without hesitation. "Don't mind if they do," he adds.
Harvey works without fuss, without pause. He goes straight for the kill, pulling Donna entirely into his mouth, sucking as those smooth lips slide from between his own.
He flicks the tip of his tongue across her swollen clit, following a random pattern. Back and forth, up and down, circling rapidly. Gently sucking, he forces it to swell more.
Donna's breathing becomes labored, and she begins to rock against Harvey's mouth. Her hands grip the edges of the vanity as she fights to hold out, basking in the ravishment of her body.
He lays the flat of his tongue against her, pressing firmly, rubbing feverishly. She thrashes wildly, her whole body engulfed in flame. Unable to resist any longer, her hands fly to his head, grasping any hair she can, willing him closer.
He works faster, enticing whimpers when he slides one finger, then another, and then a third inside Donna's wet core. Keeping pace with his tongue, he pumps his fingers deep into her, stretching her just to the sweet side of pain.
Harvey keeps momentum as Donna's back arches and her inner muscles clamp around his fingers. His fingers hold still, deep inside, as his tongue continues at breakneck speed.
Her breathing becomes noisy. Every exhale is blanketed in a throaty groan. Her nails dig into his scalp as she practically rides herself over the edge.
Finally, she succumbs to her body's primal instincts, letting go of everything. All the tension that has built is released with a guttural moan that echoes in every corner of the room.
If Donna were capable of forming any thought whatsoever, she would have assumed the entire world could hear her heart pounding out of her chest. But her mind is blank as her limp body lies sprawled across the marble. No thoughts, only feelings.
She feels the ringing in her ears and the heavy weightlessness in her exhausted muscles. She feels adrenaline pumping through her body. She feels the sweet ache between her legs of overloaded nerve endings.
In the same place, she feels warm breath where Harvey is still, allowing her to recover. Donna cracks open her eyes, smiling blissfully down at her man. She watches as he wipes one finger across his mouth and smiles, almost bashfully and a little proud.
A silence comes over them, like an angel's thick and downy wing muffling thought and speech. It grows deeper and deeper. Harvey feels it embracing him, covering him like a blanket, warm and comfortable, as his fingers trail softly along Donna's thigh.
Donna can feel the weight of his head resting against her other thigh, his cheek pressed to her in a way that feels almost childlike, seeking comfort in the silence.
Eventually, he opens his mouth to speak, attempting to control his emotions, but his voice croaks hoarsely with sorrow.
"My mother knew how happy you made me. I told her you're the…"
The words get stuck as his body stiffens under the weight of it all. The edges of his vision are starting to blur and darken. He tries to swallow the sticky, sick feeling in his throat, but he can't budge the muscles.
Then, Donna feels it. The dampness against her thigh. It takes a second for her to register it fully, to understand that he's crying.
The man who always keeps it together, who fights so hard not to let anyone see him break, is now unraveling in her arms.
"Hey, it's okay," she whispers, her voice sounding weak, just a thread of sound. "I'm here, baby. I've got you," Her fingers glide through his hair, combing it back in soft, repetitive motions. "I've got you," she repeats gently.
His head still nestled on her thigh, Harvey inhales deeply, her familiar scent filling his senses, comforting him in a way words never could.
Silent tears slip from his eyes, falling onto her skin as he presses closer, his body wracked with emotion.
Donna leans down, her lips brushing over the top of his head in a series of soft kisses. She nuzzles her nose into his hair, her heart aching for him, though she feels her love for him swell in her chest.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispers. "I promise."
He doesn't respond, not with words, but she feels it—the way his grip on her tightens even more, as if afraid she might slip away. His body shudders, and then she hears it, a sound that shatters something inside her.
The deep, guttural sobs that escape him, the kind that come from a place so raw, so hidden, that they strip away any remaining façade. It's the kind of crying that she doesn't think she's ever heard from him before.
It breaks her heart to witness his pain, the intensity of his grief. But at the same time, the vulnerability he shows her in this moment somehow puts it back together.
Because this is Harvey—without the walls, without the armor. Just him. Every emotion, every crack in his heart laid bare for her to see.
And she holds him tighter, letting him know without words that she'll be there, that she'll hold him through it all.