About that night

He would never forget how her skin felt, pressed against his, soft as silk. Her scent, her taste, sweet and warm and intoxicating. He would never forget a single inch of her body, the way she looked at him, the way she shivered under his touch, the sounds that escaped her mouth. He would never forget the way she made him feel, full, electric, crazy, like his skin was meant to feel things he didn't even know existed…

It was just one night. But, for one night, she was his, and he was hers. And it was perfect.

It all started because he felt broken into tiny little pieces. It all started because he didn't need one of the many names and numbers of those girls he knew would be more than happy to have him that night. He needed her. Because he was broken, and he needed to be fixed, and she was his glue. The one that kept it all together.

She opened the door wearing a tank top and sweatpants, and he thought he was losing his mind because he had never found her more desirable.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he barely whispered back.

"It's late."

"I know."

"So?"

"I was in the neighbourhood."

"That's what you're going with? Really?"

"Donna," he almost pleaded, and he hated that it had come to this with him.

"I don't host pity parties, Harvey, ever, not even for you. Well, maybe for you I would, but I wouldn't be attending. I'm too cool for that. Now, pajama parties? That's a whole different story," she said while grabbing his arm and dragging him into her living room. "I mean, what's not to love about pajama parties? Food, movies…" she pushed him to sit on the couch, then walked towards the kitchen and looked for something inside of one of the cabinets. Pulling out a bottle of liquor she added, "and booze!"

They drank and made jokes. He was still broken, but every time he fell apart, she'd pick up the pieces effortlessly. Like he was some kind of puzzle she's done a million times before. A witty comment, a mischievous look, a slap on his arm… Whatever was needed for him to forget, if just for a brief moment, the war that was taking place inside of him, she would do it. And it would work.

Then she had to say those words that he was sure were meant for reassurance, but caused an effect on him way too different.

"I will always be here, Harvey," she said with a serious tone for the first time that night. "I don't care if it's in this or that office, or if there's not office at all. I'm gonna be there. I will always be there, because I care, because it's you, and because there's nothing and no one I would change you or leave you for. We're a team, for life. And we'll get through this, together."

And he had to do it because there was no way in the world he could just not do it.

And she knew he would do it. So she rose from the couch, rushed to the kitchen area and made herself busy with dishes, and glasses, and leftovers.

It was useless and they both knew it. It was bound to happen. They both knew how physics worked. "Bottle it up for way too long and the pressure will make it explode." That's what Mr. Gregory, from High School, taught him. And he was right.

Harvey got up and joined her in the kitchen. He stood right behind her, and he noticed her holding her breath for just a second.

"Harvey," it was all she managed to say before he spun her around and kissed her with such force, he felt dizzy afterwards.

That night he learnt that her lips were soft, and warm, and they left a tingling sensation in his own. Like some kind of spark igniting something very deep inside him.

"Stop," she said, breaking the kiss and pushing him away. And he felt his heart sink.

"We need some rules," she added, still catching her breath.

"No, we don't," he replied, placing both his hands in her hips and bringing her closer. Because no matter how close they were, they weren't close enough.

She looked at him then, raising her hand and placing it against his chest. "It's either the rules or nothing at all, Harvey."

He chose the rules, because "nothing at all" was not an option at this point.

He was feeling way too much around her for his comfort. Yet he had this strange sensation that she was the only one who would be able to calm those feelings and make them bearable.

"First of all, this," she pointed at him, then at herself, "happens here and now and never again."

"Donna," he almost pouted, and again, he hated it.

"What we have means the world to me, and I'm not damaging it because we're hurt, tipsy and a little bit… frisky."

"That's not what this is," he tried and he meant it, but she wouldn't listen.

"Rule number two, we don't talk about what this is. This just is, end of story. Rule number three…"

He let go of her hips and growled, running a hand through his tousled hair to regain some control over the situation.

"Harvey, if you're having second thoughts…"

"I'm not, and you know it." He shot an accusing look in her direction and she fought the urge to laugh at his eagerness. "But I don't want to hear a full list of rules and reasons why we shouldn't do this."

"Well, better now than regret it later."

"Right, as if I would ever regret being with you." He honestly didn't mean to say that out loud, but when he heard her breath get caught again, there was a little smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You might."

"Are you that bad?" he teased, if only to light up the mood.

"Are you really questioning my competence? Oh, Harvey," she shook her head in mock disgust. "Of all the things you could have said," she teased back, turning around to walk away from him.

He would never admit that he panicked a little. Because Harvey Specter knew nothing about panic. But he grabbed her hand and turned her around and held her closer against his chest, suddenly afraid she would slip through his fingers and disappear.

"Rule number three?" he finally gave in, pulling her even closer.

He imagined that proximity would get to her as much as it was getting to him, and eventually it might turn the odds in his favor. Then again, it was unlikely that the odds would ever choose him over the mighty Donna Paulsen.

"Rule number three, this is a one-time only thing."

"One night," he corrected.

"What?"

"I want one night."

"That's what I said."

"You said one-time. It's certainly not the same thing," he looked down at her and smirked.

He saw her struggling to give him a disapproving look and then failing. The smile on her face giving it completely away.

"One night," she rectified. "And then…"

"We'll worry about that in the morning," he cut her and leaned down to kiss her.

He had barely brushed his lips against hers when she pushed him away, again, forcing them to stand within arm distance of each other. Harvey's hands refused to leave Donna's hips, bringing her with him as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"I won't be here in the morning and we worry about it now," she said, determinedly.

He wanted to make a joke about how she would have to be there in the morning because they were in her apartment, but the warning look in Donna's face convinced him against it.

He saw it then, the fear. But he refused to acknowledge it, because that would mean he'd have to acknowledge his own.

"We have nothing to worry about, Donna," he lied, mostly to himself.

"No, if we establish some rules and follow them, we don't."

"And if I'm not liking your rules?" God knew he wasn't.

"Then we go back to the couch, watch a movie and this conversation never took place," she responded trying to sound nonchalant.

"Not a chance," he grinned, tightening his grip on Donna's hips and dragging her hard against his body.

His heart was pumping so fast it was actually painful. She was soft and warm and everything he wanted.

Harvey brushed his lips over hers, still feeling her body tense against his.

"Donna, "he whispered before teasing the shape of her mouth with his tongue.

She parted her lips and he kissed her deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist, wanting to feel her full body pressed against his, tasting every corner of her mouth, their tongues dancing together in a frenzied rhythm that was driving him insane. She moaned then, and this time it was him who had to break the kiss to gasp for much needed air.

"Rule number four," she continued, as if nothing had happened. Her shallow breathing the only thing betraying her composure.

Harvey rested his forehead against hers, huffing loudly in frustration, as a chuckle escaped Donna's lips.

"Tomorrow morning, we go back to normal. Everything goes back to normal. This didn't happen and we won't talk about it."

"Donna," he sighed. "I'm starting to think you don't want this."

"I do," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear it.

He pulled back slightly to look at her, but Donna brought a hand to his neck and forced him to rest his forehead against her once more, trying to keep him from looking into her eyes. She didn't want him to know what was going through her mind, and she knew that he would know as soon as their gazes met.

Not giving up (because he never did, anyway,) Harvey pulled back again, lifting her chin this time, forcing her to look at him.

"Then, why the rules, Donna?"

She sighed and looked down at his lips.

"Because if this happens I need the rules," she said, pausing at the word 'need', her voice cracking slightly. "Because if this screws what we have…"

"It won't."

"Harvey."

"We'll pretend it didn't happen. We won't talk about it."

"After tonight, no physical contact of any kind."

"You've got to be kidding me," Harvey practically groaned.

He looked at her, waiting for her to say that it was a joke. The look on Donna's face stated clearly that it wasn't.

He let go of her and headed to the living room. Donna followed him short after.

"You're pushing it, Donna, really."

"Give me your hand," she said, catching him by surprise.

"What?"

"Give me your hand," she repeated and he did so.

Holding his hand in hers, she started to unbutton his long shirt sleeve, rolling it up his arm slowly, careful to do it without actually touching his skin.

"Looks like I'm finally getting some action," he joked. A big grin plastered on his face.

Donna chuckled. "Shut up, Harvey."

"Have you ever considered a career as a dominatrix? You sure as hell know your ways around torture."

"I'll leave the whip for later…"

Harvey gaped, not sure if she was serious about it, and completely turned on by the prospect of finding out.

Donna smirked as she started running a single finger up Harvey's forearm, slowly tracing a straight line and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

She looked up at Harvey, grinning widely. "I think I just made my point. Physical contact between us, even one as harmless as this one, is dangerous."

"So is the lack of it," Harvey scoffed. "I swear I'm having a heart attack."

She bit her bottom lip trying to suppress a laugh and he wanted to replace her teeth with his own and be the one biting those lips.

"Come here," he said, reaching for her to pull her against his aching body.

"This rule is important, Harvey."

"We work together. Avoiding physical contact is going to be hard, Donna," he breathed against her earlobe, right before starting to plant wet kisses down her neck.

"We've done harder," Donna muttered.

"I don't think so," he pointed, looking down to make her aware of how hard this was being for him.

"Harvey."

"Write it down, Donna. I'll sign it, stamp it, seal it with my own blood, whatever you want me to do. Just let me have you already, dammit."

Donna giggled.

"You're enjoying this too much," he growled, placing his hands on her butt and lifting her up.

Donna wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, eliciting a groan of pleasure from him.

"Oh, I am enjoying this immensely." Still smiling, she planted a light kiss on his lips and began to undo his tie. "And you should brace yourself, Harvey, because I'm going to make you pay for questioning my competence."

"When did I-?"

Donna used the tie to pull him up for a kiss that left him breathless. Then, she looked deeply into his eyes, their foreheads touching.

"Never, ever, question my competence again. I am the best. Period."

Harvey grinned widely and nodded.

"You are the best."

"And you, my lucky friend," she tossed the tie over her shoulder and began to unbutton his shirt. "You're about to find out to what extent."