A/N: Hi everyone, here's something new. An idea that has been bugging me for a couple of days now and somehow it changed into this...it isn't even that close to what I expected it to be, that's why it will probably be a two shot. Just trying to figure out how to tie the two parts together. And it's rated M for a reason (mostly for what I think is still to come, you never know) and partially for this chapter #sorrynotsorry .. I had to.
So here's the first part of Heatwave. Maybe leave a review?
I got a heat wave, burning in my heart
I can't keep from crying, tearing me apart.
Just give me another chance
This could be a new romance
"It's not fair," the little boy screams pushing his fists down as he frowns at his mother.
"I know, honey," the woman whispers kneeling down next to him, "but your father isn't here now and …" she pauses for a second her hand reaching for her belly, "… I can't come with you and you're not going alone," she explains. "I'm old enough to go alone," the little boy argues. "Harvey, you're eight," Lily reasons. "Yeah, and Tony is seven and he can go," he counters as he removes himself from his mother's grip. "Harvey, wait," she yells after him, as the little boy runs out of the kitchen towards the front door. He runs outside, angry but determined to go to the baseball field by himself, only to run into his grandfather Reginald. The old man calms him down and tells him to follow him. Harvey doesn't even see how his grandfather signals that everything is okay to his mother, who's standing in the door opening. "It's not fair," the boy starts again, "just because dad isn't here I can't go out and play." He sighs, "I wish they weren't there." The old man looks at his grandson. "Don't say that, boy," he reasons wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "I know parents aren't always fun, but you're lucky to have them." Harvey raises his shoulders, not responding to the words Reginald had said to him. "So," the man continues," instead of running away… next time you come to me." Harvey looks at his grandpa and questions the smile on his face, he feels like he's being left out on some secret. "Why?" he mumbles. "Because, any time you feel angry or upset.. " he tells him as he points at the boat, " You can come here. You come to me to this boat and tell me."
Harvey lets his legs hang down as he sits on the deck. Just listening to the sound of the waves.
His anger slowly drifting away, clearing his mind.
He feels at peace again.
Part One - Waves
He pulls the dark blue bathrobe a bit closer in his neck, the fabric removing some but not all of the droplets that are running from his hair down his neck. He stairs in the mirror for a second, he thinks he looks exhausted. He doesn't really know why, but it must have something to do with her. With Donna. It has always been her. He sighs as he reaches for a white towel. He dries his face, his hair and while turning around he spots some movement under his sheets in the reflection of his mirror. He dries the back of his head as his eyes linger on the two feet that belong to a women. And not just any woman. They belong to her, to Donna. He smiles as the memories of the previous night rush back to his mind. He sees her move her feet up and down her long bare legs and he knows she's doing it on purpose. That she's doing it to torture him, but all he can do is smirk. Because truth is, it isn't half as much torture as not having her in his life. He watches how she gets up, leaning on her left elbow. She looks likes she just woke up, as if she's looking around the room wondering where she is. But he knows she's just pretending, the big smile on her face giving her away when they make eye contact.
"Hey," he whispers as he turns around to walk back to his bed. "Good morning," she whispers slightly wrapping the white sheet around her as she moves over the bed towards him on her knees. Harvey removes a string of her auburn locks from her face, tucking it behind her ear as his hand travels down her cheek. His fingers lifting her chin, before her lips met his. "Morning, beautiful," he whispers, pulling her closer. His fingers running up and down her back, "we should get ready for work," he mumbles, her pout making him smile. "No," she answers her hands following the collar of his bathroom towards the waist band. "No we don't," she continues undoing the knot, her hands sliding on his bare torso just above his boxers. "We could stay here," she whispers, her fingers tracing his muscles. "Do we, now," he whispers in her ear, leaving kisses down her cheek until their lips savour each other again. He feels her right hand trail down, sending shivers down his spine as her left removes the sheet that has been covering her naked body. He breaks their kiss then to take in her face. Her breasts. Her abdomen, her thighs. But he only has mere seconds to look at them before the touch of her fingers on his length redirect his gaze to her face. She has a devilish grin on her lips, one that becomes even worse when she takes it completely in her hand, bringing her upper body towards him. He can feel her hard nipples pressed against his skin, that combined with the teasing of her hand feels like he's trapped in a heatwave. Causing him to catch a breath, making him momentarily unaware of what's happening she's able to turn him around and pin him to the bed.
She lets out a laugh as he realizes what happened, kissing him again as she sits on top of him. He wants to bring his hands to her back, feel her skin, her breasts against him, just like mere seconds ago, but she doesn't let him. Instead she places soft wet kisses down his neck, sucking on his nipples before her mouth follows the path her fingers had laid. "Donna," he moans letting out a sigh as she stops when she reached his boxers. "Patient much," she gloats before taking the elastic band between her teeth, pulling them down. Her hands only helping the final part. The small kisses she places on his length are both a pleasure and torture in one, he just isn't sure which side it tends to go to yet. She licks the top then and he has to channel all his will power to not let go just yet. He tries to look at her, the puppy eyes she's giving him as she takes it completely in her mouth isn't helping either. "Fuck, Donna," he mumbles as she lets go of his mini-me a minute later and returns to just simple kisses. "Can't take the pressure," she asks him teasingly, her fingers drawing patterns on his thigh.
"Donna, please," he begs, but it only seems to work against him as she moves her body back up. Pressing her breast against his torso again, while keeping him in her hand. Just letting go of it before she sits on his lap again, and he can feel her wetness making his arousal harden even more. "I want you inside me," she whispers on his lips as she lets herself slide down on him. He can only nod as he kisses her, his hands on her hips pulling her closer. Letting her hips roll against him as he thrusts inside her. She pushes him back down to the bed, taking the lead as she steadies herself with one hand on his torso, the other on his knee. He misses the contact of her skin on his, but he doesn't mind because the view she's giving him is amazing. He knows he's close and he knows she's too as he can feel her walls tightening around him. "Fuck," she moans as he turns them around in surprise, thrusting deeper inside her as he pulls her leg a bit up. He's pretty sure he's about to blow his load, but he needs her to come first, just in case he can't anymore after this. He increases the pace, leaning forward as his fingers play with her nipples, his lips in her neck. Her back arching as she reaches an orgasm, "ooh my god, Mitchell," she screams out.
"Fuck," Harvey screams out as he sits up in his bed, heavily breathing. His forehead covered in sweat as he looks around, but his bed is empty. Of course it is, he thinks as he realizes it was just a dream. Another one of those dreams. He's been experiencing them since the day she left him, a new version of the same dream every night. They started with him only being able to see some feet belonging to a women in his bed, and day after day more of that picture became visible. The first time he really saw Donna there was when Tanner had showed up again. The dreams kept returning and he had even told his therapist about them. As if it isn't embarrassing enough to have to tell your therapist about your sex dreams of your former secretary, imagine his response when she told him it was all about his mother. A couple of therapy sessions further he had finally acknowledged the issues revolving his mother, he had hoped that would make the dreams stop. But they hadn't and Harvey now also knows that it wasn't just about his mother. He's now having legit sex dreams about Donna. Making him wake up in the middle of the night every single day. He also knows he cannot go back to Paula for this, he'd rather die than having to relive those dreams again without them actually happening.
He lets out another sigh as he drags himself towards the shower, afraid to fall back asleep and having to experience it all over again. He thinks about how ironic it is, him having to take a cold shower while that's exactly the location where his dreams starts. He puts on his sweatpants and a black t-shirt as he walks towards his balcony. Once outside he takes in the early morning noises, but it doesn't calm him down. Not like it used to. He can't escape the chaos of his mind anymore, not even at the end of the day, when the traffic is at his worst. He knows it's weird, but somehow the craziness from the city is what helps him calm down. It's what makes him forget his own problems, but not anymore. Not since she left. Cause now all he can see when he looks around are the restaurants they once had dinner together. The shops he had let het buy handbags or shoes with his credit card. The street he knows that belongs to the theatre he watched her perform on her closing night. The traffic lights that are red, just like her hair.
He decides to go for a run instead, his feet dragging him through Central Park. The scenery of his usual route not doing the trick he finds himself on one of the boulevards along the Hudson River. He's not really sure as to why he ended up here, but the sound of the waves hitting the docks are having a calming effect on him. He looks around and sees the small harbour near the Boat Basin Café, the sight of the sail masts reminding him of his youth.
Harvey stairs at his teammates running around the baseball court. It's the final inning and his team is only one point behind. If he hits a home run now, they'll win. He has a batting average of 0.385 so if there's any man for the job it's him. Most high school players might cave under the pressure, but not him. Not Harvey, that isn't in his nature. He wins. That's what he does. He smiles at the thought that this hit is going to win the game, that this hit is determining his professional career. He knows it's going to happen, he just knows it is. His mind wanders a bit off, he can imagine everyone … well especially the girls chanting his name now any second, as he reaches for the bat. Harvey lets out a final breath as he gets ready. Placing his foot on the grass as he brings the bat to his shoulder, waiting for the pitcher to throw the ball. His gaze focusses on the white round object coming towards him, he extends his arms at the exact right moment. Literally hitting the ball out of the park, but instead of running he feels something snap inside his shoulder. His left hand reaches for the spot as he drops to his knees. He knows it's bad.
"Harvey, come on," Lily whines two weeks later, "I'm sorry about your shoulder, but it isn't the end of the world." Not the end of the world he repeats to himself, he doesn't even respond to her. His mind is raging and he wants to scream. Instead he just gets of the kitchen counter and starts walking. Following his feet until he ends up in the harbour again, the sight of his grandfather's boat making him feel better again. Just like it had done every other time he had gotten in a fight with his mother. "Hey son," Reginald greets him, "how are things going?" "Not," he replies sitting down on the deck, "I blew my change at going pro because of my shoulder." Reginald nods, Gordon had already told him. "That sucks," he replies handing him a drink. "Yeah," Harvey mumbles a smile appearing on his face. Finally someone that understands, he thinks, the sound of the water clashing against the boat flushing away his stress. Clearing his mind.
Harvey sits down on one of the benches facing the harbour. He closes his eyes and listens to the wind playing with the strings along the sailing masts. Listening to the sound the waves make when they hit the boats. And for the first time in a very long time, he feels at peace. The chaos in his mind gone, although only temporarily.
It's the first time in forever that he's been near the water and he can't really place as to why that is. Why he chose to replace the calming effect of the water with the chaos of the city. Cause ever since she left him, it has been another thing that was driving him insane. He just doesn't realise yet that it has never really been the city that calmed him down, that it was her. That it had always been her and always will be her.
The chaos of the city now only enhancing the chaos in his mind, especially now that the firm is under attack once again. He finds himself on this particular bench more often, now that the threats seem to be serious. Besides his sessions to Paula, he comes here at least once a week after his run, just to clear his head. It's also the exact location he makes the decision to step down in order to save the firm. Giving him thirty days to clean up the mess he created, giving him thirty days to say goodbye. Something he knows he won't be able to do when the time comes. At least not to her.
Ten days in, he finds himself at this exact bench almost every day now, right after he has woken up in the middle of the night again. Dreaming about her. It's somehow become a new ritual, even though he doesn't want to call it that. A ritual will always be something he does with her. It's the only place he can temporarily forget about her, even though he doesn't want to. But he needs to clear his mind, he knows he needs to move on. She has.
Three weeks in, Harvey is still struggling with the suit against his protégé and it doesn't even surprise him when this bench also becomes the place where he comes up with the solution to save the pup. He knows that hiring a fraud is what has always been the real threat, but he knows he still has to go. The future of the firm won't be guaranteed if he doesn't.
Twenty nine days in and the visits to this spot have not only become daily, they've become longer every time. He knows he's avoiding the firm. More specifically her, Donna. He knows he has to say goodbye, but he just can't put himself to it. Afraid of what really leaving might have for extra effects on him. He doubts if it can be any worse though, she's already been haunting him in his dream for months now. But he's still afraid, mostly because he knows how much he will miss her.
When the day has come, he looks around his office and takes everything in for one last time. His records, the basketballs in the window sill. His glass desk, the odd piece of art on the wall Donna had tricked him into buying. His head turns around a bit more, until his eyes linger on the cubicle outside his office. The one that used to be hers. Donna's. But she isn't here and he doesn't have a chance to say goodbye. 'I'll miss you' remains unspoken. It's the only day he finds himself on that bench near the water twice. The second time being right after he has left the firm. He sighs and tries to clear his mind. He tries to forget about her, unaware of how things were just about to change. How he was going to find her at his own apartment later that night. How she would show up at his apartment later that night, how she'll scream at him. How she'll tell him that this wasn't what was supposed to happen.
That day, the day he had come to the harbour twice, had been a month ago. He still doesn't know what she meant with 'this' precisely or what she had expected to happen. All he knows is things turned out differently than he had anticipated, because right now her hand rests in his as her head lays on his shoulder. He can smell her shampoo, a vanilla scent entering his nose. The scent bringing back memories of how she tasted. He tries to push back the thoughts, especially now. Now that she is so close to him. Closer than she has ever been in the past twelve years.
He isn't a dancer, but this is Donna. She's different, she's the only one he would want to dance with. And so they are. Dancing. Her other hand is placed in his neck. He feels her fingers shift and for a second he wonders if she's playing with his hair, but she isn't and he can't help but let out a sigh. "What's wrong?" she whispers, the warmth of her breath tickling his neck. "Nothing," he mumbles back as his fingers fidget with the fabric of her dress. He just hopes she doesn't notice it, she would end this dance if she did. He smiles then and she knows he does as she feels his facial muscles move. She doesn't have to look at him to know which kind of smile it is. It isn't his signature smirk, it isn't his smile that reaches from eye to eye. No, his lips are in a thin line, just curled up at the ends. She knows that's his smile for when he's hurt and she can't help but wonder if it's because of her. "Okay," she whispers, her thumb going over the back of his hand, trying to reassure him that everything is okay, but she can't help but wonder if that is actually the case. His skin is burning now, his heart starts beating faster. He knows it's not a panic attack, it's her. She's the one sending a heatwave down his body. She's the one having this effect on him. She always has and she always will. He closes his eyes and tries to remember every single detail of this moment. The words they've exchanged, even though it weren't that much. Her touch, the placements of her hands. His hands, how her body is pressed against his. The smell, the vanilla flavoured shampoo, the way her hair is curled. The colour of her dress, how it flows around her body. And even the texture of the fabric is what he's trying to remember of this moment. Of this dance, because he knows it will be the only one they have tonight. Him as best man, her as maid of honour.
The song ends and Donna slowly lifts her head, her hands remaining in place. Harvey looks in her eyes and swallows, wondering why the song had to end this soon. He releases her from his grip, taking a step back to create some distance between them again. Completely letting go of her except for her left hand. Her left hand just remains there as if both of them didn't know what to do next. He sees her smile then and he wonders if this is it. If this is the moment she realizes that there is still something between them. If she's willing to give him another chance, because he truly believes that it could become a romance. But he realizes it isn't that moment as he hears the footsteps closing in on them. He doesn't have to look to know who's walking towards them, it can only be one guy. Mitchell. He nods at her and lets her go before Mitchell can interrupt them. He turns around, not noticing how she swallows, her hand lingering in the thin air for a couple of seconds before Mitchell picks it up and swirls her around.
His feet drag him to the bar and he doesn't even have the power to pronounce the words. He simply points at the bottle and waits for the bartender to pour him two fingers of the liquid gold. He doesn't want to look, but it's as if his eyes have a life on his own. His gaze lands on her. It always lands on her, no matter the amount of people in the room his eyes will always find her. Even now amongst the three hundred wedding guests. In his mind he traces her curves, the curves that had formed the sight that could brighten his mood by just watching every day for the past twelve. The curves he had only really touched once. One night, twelve years ago, but he could memorize it as if it was yesterday. He takes another sip, but it just doesn't taste the same. He knows it's not the cause of the alcohol. No this cause has eight letters and starts with an 'M'. He tries to ignore how her curves are now being held by another pair of hands. He never particularly liked any guy she dates, but this time it feels the worst. Because this time he is in love. In love with her, with Donna. It wasn't Paula or her therapy that had brought him to that conclusion. It wasn't Jessica with her wise words either, nor the couple that just got married. No he came to that conclusion all on his own. He doesn't exactly remember when it happened, but he does know the answer to that question she asked him months ago.
Love me how?
How? He now knows how he loves her, he knows she's the only one that can brighten his day. The only one that can make him smile without any reason. The only one that can drive him crazy, but in a good way. The only one he's ever felt jealous about seeing in the arms of another man. The only one he can imagine a future with. The only one he could never really express his true feelings to, because the thought of those feelings not being answered felt like the most terrifying thing in the world. The only one he ever really loved. The only one he will ever love. The only one he's been in love with. He now knows that he, Harvey Specter, is in fact in love with her, but he still doesn't tell her. He knows she has moved on and he knows he should too, but he can't.
He downs the rest of his drink then, the sight in front of him now making him physically feel sick. His heart crushing every time he sees her smile. The final punch seeing them leave, holding hands. Her head on Mitchell's shoulder now. He looks away then, scanning the room, looking for a distraction. His eyes falling on one of the other bridesmaids, as he walks over to the girl that's probably just old enough. He decides that tonight the only way to distract himself is have his way with some woman. He also knows that that is a lie, that there is no way to distract him from the redhead. It hadn't helped the last time he had a meaningless hook up, with Louis' sister of all people. It wouldn't help now, but maybe it would make him feel better. He also knows that it won't, but that's what he keeps telling himself as he directs the girl out of the room.
He doesn't even make it home that night. At least not with the girl, because two blocks in of the cab drive he finally learned her name. Of all the names she could have, hers had to be Debbie.. and well, he just couldn't. Upon hearing it he had ordered the cab to stop, getting out of it as fast as possible when it did. He felt betrayed, betrayed by the world. Even when he was trying to move on from her, the girl had to remind him of her.
He finds himself at that bench for the first time in a month again that night. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on the sound of the water hitting the boats. He tries to clear his mind, but his feelings for her don't come and go in waves anymore. No, it's a current stream and he feels like he's drowning. He's trying to fight how every fibre in his being is calling for her.
A couple of minutes pass and his thoughts are finally at rest. He lets out a breath, as he's getting ready to walk home again. The sound of his mobile phone waking bringing him back to his surroundings. One look at the screen and he knows that no matter how hard he tries, he'll never be able to completely shut himself off from her, because it's her. It's always been her. It will always be her.
"Harvey," she mumbles.