Fic: For When it Matters
Title: For When it Matters
Category: Suits
Word Count: 1400ish
Ratings: T
Spoiler: Nope.
Note: My first fic for this pairing. To be honest I had really no idea of what I was doing. Sorry for any mistakes.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. any of them. I mean, the words are, but...
Summary: He chuckled, amused. She really must've been drained. A few hours back she entered his office and dragged herself to his couch, not even realizing he was sitting there.
On FF.Net
Donna woke up to the stroking of fingers in her arm, lightly going up and down and leaving a trail of warmth behind. That feeling spread through her body; a soft wave of heat that prevented her from completely rise from unawareness. She almost let out a smile. Pearson Hardman was gone. Her headache was gone. The phone ringing at every second, the hundreds and hundreds of pages about the last merger, the pressure, the rush - it was all gone. She wiggled a little, and suddenly realized that both her stilettos where nowhere near her feet. Her mind seemed just as good as gone. In that state of half-sleepiness she could just focus on the hand that caressed her so gently. That skin against hers was surely familiar, and as soon as she acknowledged the smooth jazz playing in the background, she realized who was the responsible for that sensation of comfortableness. She refused to open her eyes, but finally gave up to the smile that was being build in the left corner of her lips. It grew wider, and she knew he was smiling too, when his hands rested in her shoulder. His thumb moved upon her, drawing small invisible circles in her skin.
"How the hell did this happened?" She finally asked, her voice coming out lazy and slow in the middle of a yawn.
"You fell asleep." He answered, simply.
"Harvey, that doesn't explain why I have my head in your chest."
He chuckled, amused. She really must've been drained. A few hours back she entered his office and dragged herself to his couch, not even realizing he was sitting there. Of course she didn't properly laid on top of him, but that eventually happened, after he saw her curled up, hugged in a cushion, and decided that she deserved better. Seeing her red strands all messed up and her face so serene got him to drop his guard. He stretched her along the couches length and offered his own lap as a pillow. Their current position was the result of her being comfortable and wanting even more, and of him being unable to resist to see her melted in his arms.
"Shit happens." He said. Fingers traced her again, in her shoulder, going all the way down to her wrists. He pressed a little more, now that she was awake, but not enough to change the tune in his touching. It was good to feel her like that. Her smooth skin was tender; he fought against his own thoughts on how she would feel between his lips, while he nipped her collarbone. He held his breath for a second, thinking on that spot and letting his hand go there.
"Speaking of which..." She objected, but made no move in stoping him. He made no move in stopping himself, either.
"C'mom, we've done worst."
She had to open her eyes to see his teeth bared in a grin. There was no surprise in seeing that his other hand held a file, and that there was a small stack of them on his stomach. His eyes were directed too the paperwork, but Donna knew better than to trust the direction for which it was pointed. The dreamy haze clouding his blue orbs combined with his grin going wider nudged her in the direction of his thoughts.
"Do you really want to take this conversation that way?" Something in her fluttered. She gulped, his hands going up to her neck. A smile for that sensation - cold in her stomach, like she had been going up in the air too fast, was still rising, and could not fall. Eternal ascendence. She closed her eyes again. And then an admission: "I could easily get used to this."
He though on how much he wanted that to be usual. Having her for himself to touch, to kiss, to please, to be pleased by. It would be so easy, so natural. He closed his eyes and his fingers entwined in a strand of her red hair. To wake up and reach for her at the other end of the bed, feel her tongue in his, her bittersweet taste, and hear her moans even before her good morning. It would be so easy.
"Shit, that's a week spot." Donna winced at his touch behind her ear, not without a smile. She flew even higher. A gasp; fist closed loosely around his shirt. All she could do was give in to that. It was all she wanted. She turned her head, giving him more access.
"That's the fun in it." He said, sounding a little more sweet than he wanted, but just as much as he needed. That was him, when it came to her, in all of his unintended sweetness.
Harvey lowered the hand that had the file, and tilted his head until his lips where brushing her head. From where he had his hands, he could feel her pulse. Donna's heart was beating wildly, and his was not different. Shallow breaths. He kissed her forehead, lingering there; hesitating to move his lips downwards, but not his hands. He's index finger went along with her anatomy, the same way a drop of water would when she was out of bath, poorly wrapped in a towel, complaining because he wouldn't take his hands of her and let her dry herself right.
She stopped breathing completely. Every attempt to get some air pressed his touch on her even more, and that brought up old expectations, old desires. Her body was warm, and where they were in contact, it burned intensely. She wanted to feel his hair between her fingers, nibble his earlobe, moan softly between her teeth, and hear her name, while she said his. She needed his fingers to keep going down.
But she couldn't forget. She made a promise.
"You really should go back to that Callahan merger." She said, promptly, calmly.
He smiled.
When he hired her, he'd said that it was going to be a ride or die to the top of the world.
"I need someone who's willing to take the risks. Someone who I can trust me, and that's never going to let me fall. Are you that person, Donna Paulsen?"
Harvey could tell just by the look in her eyes: she was. She wouldn't let him commit any mistakes, not even now, when they both didn't mind the feel of a free fall.
"I know," he opened his eyes and directed them to the paperwork again, not before kissing her forehead again first. "But one day I'll still end up fucking you for everything you have in this very couch."
She laughed; she had to.
"What is this, Harvey, tired of your casual girls? They ran out of tricks?"
He ran his hand a little deeper in the low cut in her dress, thumb skirting her breasts; eyes in the paperwork and lips pursed in a straight line. She had to be kidding. She knew everything about him, but she couldn't tell something that was below her nose for ages.
"This have nothing to do with sex."
She raised an eyebrow, appreciating his touch.
"What, them?" She said, in a chuckle. She wiggled a little, putting herself a little upward from were she was, and resting her head in a cushion, right next to his. Donna pressed her cheek against his and smiled. "Are you in love with me, Harvey?"
He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes.
"Who'd say, your guesses are not always right."
"That answer only proves they are."
Self-centered-son-of-a-bitch. He thought, tenderly. His lips curved immediately.
"Does it matter if I'm, said, in love with you?"
"As a matter of fact yes."
Harvey reached for one of her hands. Their fingers intertwined without hesitation.
"Right now, does it matter?"
Donna set her focus on the merger he had in hands, and started to read the deal. She could work with him now, help him with what really had importance at that time, enjoy what they had. And them, for when it mattered, they could think about all that hand-holding and caressing, and fucking.
"No. Not at all."
Category: Suits
Word Count: 1400ish
Ratings: T
Spoiler: Nope.
Note: My first fic for this pairing. To be honest I had really no idea of what I was doing. Sorry for any mistakes.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. any of them. I mean, the words are, but...
Summary: He chuckled, amused. She really must've been drained. A few hours back she entered his office and dragged herself to his couch, not even realizing he was sitting there.
On FF.Net
Donna woke up to the stroking of fingers in her arm, lightly going up and down and leaving a trail of warmth behind. That feeling spread through her body; a soft wave of heat that prevented her from completely rise from unawareness. She almost let out a smile. Pearson Hardman was gone. Her headache was gone. The phone ringing at every second, the hundreds and hundreds of pages about the last merger, the pressure, the rush - it was all gone. She wiggled a little, and suddenly realized that both her stilettos where nowhere near her feet. Her mind seemed just as good as gone. In that state of half-sleepiness she could just focus on the hand that caressed her so gently. That skin against hers was surely familiar, and as soon as she acknowledged the smooth jazz playing in the background, she realized who was the responsible for that sensation of comfortableness. She refused to open her eyes, but finally gave up to the smile that was being build in the left corner of her lips. It grew wider, and she knew he was smiling too, when his hands rested in her shoulder. His thumb moved upon her, drawing small invisible circles in her skin.
"How the hell did this happened?" She finally asked, her voice coming out lazy and slow in the middle of a yawn.
"You fell asleep." He answered, simply.
"Harvey, that doesn't explain why I have my head in your chest."
He chuckled, amused. She really must've been drained. A few hours back she entered his office and dragged herself to his couch, not even realizing he was sitting there. Of course she didn't properly laid on top of him, but that eventually happened, after he saw her curled up, hugged in a cushion, and decided that she deserved better. Seeing her red strands all messed up and her face so serene got him to drop his guard. He stretched her along the couches length and offered his own lap as a pillow. Their current position was the result of her being comfortable and wanting even more, and of him being unable to resist to see her melted in his arms.
"Shit happens." He said. Fingers traced her again, in her shoulder, going all the way down to her wrists. He pressed a little more, now that she was awake, but not enough to change the tune in his touching. It was good to feel her like that. Her smooth skin was tender; he fought against his own thoughts on how she would feel between his lips, while he nipped her collarbone. He held his breath for a second, thinking on that spot and letting his hand go there.
"Speaking of which..." She objected, but made no move in stoping him. He made no move in stopping himself, either.
"C'mom, we've done worst."
She had to open her eyes to see his teeth bared in a grin. There was no surprise in seeing that his other hand held a file, and that there was a small stack of them on his stomach. His eyes were directed too the paperwork, but Donna knew better than to trust the direction for which it was pointed. The dreamy haze clouding his blue orbs combined with his grin going wider nudged her in the direction of his thoughts.
"Do you really want to take this conversation that way?" Something in her fluttered. She gulped, his hands going up to her neck. A smile for that sensation - cold in her stomach, like she had been going up in the air too fast, was still rising, and could not fall. Eternal ascendence. She closed her eyes again. And then an admission: "I could easily get used to this."
He though on how much he wanted that to be usual. Having her for himself to touch, to kiss, to please, to be pleased by. It would be so easy, so natural. He closed his eyes and his fingers entwined in a strand of her red hair. To wake up and reach for her at the other end of the bed, feel her tongue in his, her bittersweet taste, and hear her moans even before her good morning. It would be so easy.
"Shit, that's a week spot." Donna winced at his touch behind her ear, not without a smile. She flew even higher. A gasp; fist closed loosely around his shirt. All she could do was give in to that. It was all she wanted. She turned her head, giving him more access.
"That's the fun in it." He said, sounding a little more sweet than he wanted, but just as much as he needed. That was him, when it came to her, in all of his unintended sweetness.
Harvey lowered the hand that had the file, and tilted his head until his lips where brushing her head. From where he had his hands, he could feel her pulse. Donna's heart was beating wildly, and his was not different. Shallow breaths. He kissed her forehead, lingering there; hesitating to move his lips downwards, but not his hands. He's index finger went along with her anatomy, the same way a drop of water would when she was out of bath, poorly wrapped in a towel, complaining because he wouldn't take his hands of her and let her dry herself right.
She stopped breathing completely. Every attempt to get some air pressed his touch on her even more, and that brought up old expectations, old desires. Her body was warm, and where they were in contact, it burned intensely. She wanted to feel his hair between her fingers, nibble his earlobe, moan softly between her teeth, and hear her name, while she said his. She needed his fingers to keep going down.
But she couldn't forget. She made a promise.
"You really should go back to that Callahan merger." She said, promptly, calmly.
He smiled.
When he hired her, he'd said that it was going to be a ride or die to the top of the world.
"I need someone who's willing to take the risks. Someone who I can trust me, and that's never going to let me fall. Are you that person, Donna Paulsen?"
Harvey could tell just by the look in her eyes: she was. She wouldn't let him commit any mistakes, not even now, when they both didn't mind the feel of a free fall.
"I know," he opened his eyes and directed them to the paperwork again, not before kissing her forehead again first. "But one day I'll still end up fucking you for everything you have in this very couch."
She laughed; she had to.
"What is this, Harvey, tired of your casual girls? They ran out of tricks?"
He ran his hand a little deeper in the low cut in her dress, thumb skirting her breasts; eyes in the paperwork and lips pursed in a straight line. She had to be kidding. She knew everything about him, but she couldn't tell something that was below her nose for ages.
"This have nothing to do with sex."
She raised an eyebrow, appreciating his touch.
"What, them?" She said, in a chuckle. She wiggled a little, putting herself a little upward from were she was, and resting her head in a cushion, right next to his. Donna pressed her cheek against his and smiled. "Are you in love with me, Harvey?"
He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes.
"Who'd say, your guesses are not always right."
"That answer only proves they are."
Self-centered-son-of-a-bitch. He thought, tenderly. His lips curved immediately.
"Does it matter if I'm, said, in love with you?"
"As a matter of fact yes."
Harvey reached for one of her hands. Their fingers intertwined without hesitation.
"Right now, does it matter?"
Donna set her focus on the merger he had in hands, and started to read the deal. She could work with him now, help him with what really had importance at that time, enjoy what they had. And them, for when it mattered, they could think about all that hand-holding and caressing, and fucking.
"No. Not at all."