Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harvey stared out at the nighttime scenery sprawled out before him from his bedroom window. The sight was as breathtaking as ever with the earthbound stars twinkling in the dark expanse. The view disappeared behind closed eyes before they opened to stare at the man under him, his weekly dick appointment glaring up at him without venom but definite ire. 

Detective Harry Potter was a handsome man, even a dubbed asshole like Harvey could see that. A head of dark wavy hair, a strong jawline, tremendously beautiful eyes, and of course, the shining star of his body, a nice thick, twelve-inch cock. 

Harry might’ve had the potential to be a model, to be something greater than a paltry, low-paid detective in a crummy precinct in New York, but for tonight and all the other nights, he came over like a well-trained dog responding to a whistle; he was Harvey’s. 

Usually, the idea of sleeping with the same person three times in a row would make him gag in disgust, a ridiculous notion even the dumbest of idiots knew not to do. Three times scattered over a couple of months? Sure. 

Three times in one month? Hell no. 

He learned early on that when given too much attention, people tended to develop silly notions in their heads like feelings, attachment, and worse yet, love. Ugh. 

So he shamelessly fucked and moved on. Repeat fuck-ees often dumped with a pretty trinket to not seem like an asshole, because in reality, he wasn’t. He just knew what he wanted in life, and they were not it. 

Yet, even he had to admit that there was something special about this dick… and Harry too. 

Harry went from his one-time experimental fuck, to a once-a-month fuck buddy, to his once-a-week dick appointment. A grand promotion given by Harvey that only two people had ever gotten. 

It was like a mailroom boy being invited to be a senior partner. Unheard of. Unexpected. 

It was a token of the person being worthy in Harvey’s eyes to linger in his space and bed for a while longer. 

Harvey rolled his waist, his cock as erect as it would ever be, a straining seven inches that twitched with each cant of his waist, and he relished in the heavy breathing of the man under his frame. 

Maybe it tickled him somewhat that Harry seemed entirely unmoved by his gracious act, and perhaps he was a bit put off by the fact that Harry blew him off once or twice because apparently, Harvey was not what Harry’s world revolved around . 

And maybe, just maybe, Harvey did the unspeakable, acted impulsively, and sent Harry a video to remind him of what he was missing out on… four times. 

But that was beside the point. 

The point was that Harvey gave Harry the metaphorical golden goose that laid not only golden eggs but fucking black diamonds and Painite, and the man seemed to just be okay with it. 

Not ecstatic, elated, or whatever other synonym that could be used, just okay as if he got a participation award and not a free pass to screw Harvey once every six days. Well, Harvey was not fine with it. 

Harvey moaned, hand lazily stroking his cock as he bounced on the twitching length in him, a cock ring securely around the officer’s cock.

For the last hour and a half, he’s been edging himself on it, letting the immaculate living dildo rub, stroke, and caress his insides. His prostate was a quivering mess of nerves at this point, and he smirked down at the detective before another moan rippled past his lips, prostate hypersensitive from the continuous stimulation. 

He could hear himself down below, the filthy sounds his hole was making each time he raised and dropped his ass back onto the overbearing weight of Harry’s cock. He also saw each reaction the action garnered from one of the NYPD’s finest; Harry’s hands jerking where they were held above his head. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked the man beneath him, the rouge flushing of Harvey’s cheeks darkening, and he licked his lips when the glare kicked up a notch to drill into him almost as deep as the cock burrowing its way into his guts. 

Leaning down, Harvey rolled his waist, walls fluttering around the lube-slicked cock that fucked him to near insanity for months now. Grunting softly at the new position, he licked over the red ball gag in Harry’s mouth, lips pressing three tender kisses on the gag in lieu of kissing Harry’s lips. 

“I forgot you can’t answer. Shame,” he tutted, a chuckle on his lips before gasping when Harry, who ran out of patience, thrust upward into him. The upward slam bounced Harvey where he sat on Harry’s lap, cock slapping his belly and leaving a sticky smear of precum. 

Harvey whimpered and would have been immensely impressed at the detective’s strength had he not been upset by his plan unraveling. 

“W-Waa… Oohh! Wa...ait!” he slurred, words refusing to work like his legs.

He gripped the bed sheets as Harry pounded into him, took the control Harvey earned through the patience of being blue-balled for two weeks in a row. The control he usually commanded at work without so much as a flick of his wrist, he had to wrestle it from the cop handcuffed to his bed. 

He more than warranted attaining this after letting Harry off the hook twice when the man knew Saturday night was reserved for Harvey’s needs. 

Harvey gasped, breath growing shorter with every piston of the veined length in him. The scenery he had admired before now a blur of light and colour. 

“Y-You’re goonaah…! Gonna make mee- aagh! Mhmff! Fuuuck–! Th-That’s it…!”

Leaning forward so the angle changed to allow the assault to center on his prostate, Harvey cried out, a hand coming to pinch one of his nipples. 

He was so close! The rhythm perfect. Harry was the only one who knew how to fuck him like this. The careful balance of aggression and dominance.

He clung to the handcuffed man, face buried into the pillow Harry laid on before shifting to bite the officer’s neck to muffle his shrill cries. 

It was all perfect. 

Harvey’s breathing grew shorter as he was pushed closer and closer to the end he avoided for nearly two hours now. He was nearly there, the clenching in his guts ready to spill over into— 

Harry went still, and the cresting wave of Harvey’s orgasm simmered to nothingness, the sharp heat unraveling to a mere arousal and not the toe-curling, mind-wrecking high he had been chasing. 

Drawing in a ragged breath, he stared down at the detective in stunned disbelief. Green eyes glared up at him, and without words, Harry challenged him, dark brow hitched. 

A clear demand of 'If you want it so bad, then do it yourself' . 

Indignation fueled him and clashed with his arousal until he clenched his jaw and did just that. 

Bracing his hands on Harry’s chest, he felt the pounding heartbeat under his palm, hips lifting until half the length slipped out before haphazardly letting it all back in again. Bouncing on his favorite toy with the same temperament Harry showed him felt good, but it wasn’t the same. It was not enough to take him back to the same searing peak as before. 

Cursing to himself and then to the silent man he scowled when Harry shook his cuffed wrists.

They both knew he would never get there on his own, not when Harvey let Harry fuck orgasm after orgasm out of him in such an anticipated routine his body grew used to it. 

This was his fault, Harvey mused, breathless moan tumbling from him when the thick cock popped out of him, Harry’s cock shining with lube, and that same lube dripped out of Harvey’s puffy hole. Climbing from Harry's lap and then the bed, he steadied himself when his weak knees threatened to buckle.

Unlocking the cuffs, he watched from the side of the bed as the detective rubbed his wrists, long fingers that often took pleasure in loosening Harvey past the point of decorum tugging the ball gag from his mouth.

From under his lashes, he watched an impatient Harvey climb back onto his lap, a warm hand curling around his cock before the attorney slowly guided Harry back into the sodden hole.

Harvey whimpered, hand covering his mouth to stop the embarrassing whine as his walls were spread apart once again with ease, lower belly bulging, and his cock drooling in anticipation.

Hands on his ass, an experimental lift sending fireworks across Harvey’s vision, his mouth greedy to accept the kiss Harry always initiated with the hunger of a touch-starved person. 

Harry leaned forward, kiss breaking so he could press butterfly wing impressions on each mole Harvey had, the act in and of itself far too sweet for just scheduled fuck buddies, but Harvey relished in it, wanted more the longer he hovered in Harry’s sphere of attention. 

It was a foreign feeling, wanting someone more than they desired him. He dared say almost painful. 

Harry was in full control again, cock driving deep into the depths of Harvey’s guts and crushing his prostate under its girthy weight. The hands lifting and dropping his ass, commanding his body to take and accept every inch, the mouth sucking red bruises into his skin low enough to be covered by the high collar of his shirt… 

Harvey hid his face into Harry’s neck, the tips of his ears burning, and it took less than two minutes for him to cum, orgasm tearing through him with the same might as lightning into soft sand. He might be in the one percentile of highly successful attorneys in America, a powerhouse of guaranteed victory, but in Harry’s arms he felt as fragile as glass. 

Harvey blinked, hand lifting to rub at his bleary eyes, and a question about when he fell asleep came to mind.

A glance at the other side of the bed found it empty as it usually was whenever he woke up. Covering his face with his hands he groaned aloud at the confusing influx of emotion he felt. He was clearly sick, or dying because he didn’t do feelings in any form or capacity. Mike would probably be a little shit and object to that declaration. 

“You’re up.” 

Two fingers parted so he could peer through them at the man coming from his kitchen, fully dressed with a glass of water in hand that he held out to Harvey. He ignored the fluttering feeling in his stomach and sat up to take the glass.  

“...What are you doing here?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to overstay my welcome Harvey,”

“I wasn’t—”

“You passed out midway during round three, and since that’s never happened before I just… needed to make sure you’re okay. So, are you okay? Anything hurts?” 

Harvey tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, the sip of cool water helping as little as he expected it to. 

“You didn’t have to, I’m fine.” 

“I know, but I wanted to.” Harry eyed him for a few seconds more, something unreadable in his gaze that Harvey wanted to ask about, wanted to pick apart and slot together in a complete puzzle. His contemplation allowed the silence to stretch between them before Harry exhaled roughly, fingers dragging through his faded cut hair. 

“See you, Harvey.” he muttered, hand grabbing his motorcycle helmet from a chair on his way out. 

The abrupt lack of Harry’s presence felt like a vacuum, and Harvey cursed softly when the butterflies refused to settle.

……

It annoyed him how much the lack of Harry’s presence bothered him, as if he wasn’t used to being alone when the work day was done and over with. 

He didn’t keep company unless he planned to fuck them, a fact that left him isolated by his own devices. Keeping too many friends was never good for business, and having too many friends for work was simply ludicrous. He never cared about being by his lonesome, enjoyed the silence even, but this , this he felt. 

It confused him enough to chase any remnants of sleep away, and his traitorous brain whispered for him to call someone from his little black book to occupy his mind. As if he had the energy to. After Harry was done with him, it was a miracle he could afford the energy to roll out of bed and head to work, much less will his cock to rise again for someone else. 

Harvey could feel the impression Harry left behind on his body by just laying there. Felt the ghost traces along his arms and back, how his hands would grip his thighs—

He looked down to where his cock was slowly hardening, Harvey groaning at the foolishness of it. 

The thought of fucking someone else gave no reaction, but thinking about the cop who left made him hard in an instant. Shit, shit, shit. 

Closing his eyes, he wrapped a hand around himself, hips lifting from the bed slightly as he stroked himself. 

His mind conjured the night he and Harry met. Jessica had said something about Harvey not being a sex magnet to all. He scoffed, and in a typical Jessica fashion, she baited him into her little game. As a kid, his mother told him he was too competitive, and just to tell her to screw herself, he became one of the best and thrived off a job built on competition. 

Jessica told him he couldn’t get a man to sleep with him unless he was roofied, and Harvey took that personally, because look at him. He was fabulous. Who wouldn’t want a piece of him? 

As a pair they scoped out the room, Harvey vetoing Jessica’s suggestions until she subtly pointed out Harry, who stood by the bar. 

A nice suit, but retail purchased because of the way it was too snug in certain areas. Jessica pointed out the same with a hum of consideration, her eyes on the very place that the material hugged a bit too much. He was tall and beautifully put together, but clearly did not belong amongst the millionaires and socialites. The constant tugging of his cuffs, the way he fiddled with the drink in his hand, and how his eyes darted about the room would've given him away if the suit already hadn't.

Either he had been roped into attending or he was some innocent prostitute. 

“Him. Let’s see if the Specter charms have any effect on men.” 

“Isn’t this considered to be workplace harassment by pimping out your employees?”

“We’re not at work, so no.”

“But you do admit to pimping me out.”

“Is that you admitting you’re a whore, Harvey?”

He snorted. Touche. “20K?”

“As if your pretty face is worth any less. You have yourself a deal.” Jessica shook his hand and he swallowed the flute of champagne before plucking another one from a passing waiter. 

He felt silly, masturbating to a stupid memory like this, but there was no denying Harry had cut a sharp, if not marginally sloppy figure. Harvey and Jessica weren’t the only people looking at him, but he was the first to approach, or at least the first to get his foot through the front door. 

Kissing a man was unlike kissing a woman. The same motions, the same tongue and flip, but it was rougher, more carnal without the song and dance about being a gentleman. He didn’t think he’d feel anything from it but found himself moaning half a minute into it. 

Him. Moaning from a kiss. A kiss from a man . 

Things had moved faster than he expected, and Harvey couldn’t even recall what they spoke about, what it was that he said to spark attention in those green eyes and convince Harry to follow him. 

“Are… mhn… are you a prostitute?” he had asked, and Harry paused in sucking a bruise along his neck. 

“No, are you?”

Harvey barked a laugh. “No, but I did do this on a wager, so thanks for letting me win.” 

Harry had tugged his pants off, already half naked himself, and from the hotel bed, Harvey saw the straining bulge in the dark blue trousers. 

“Oh? How much am I worth then?”

“About 20K,” Harvey admitted, callous in the confession he realized now months later. Telling someone they were basically purchased was rather cruel, but Harry took it in stride, then took him. 

Harvey reached his other hand between his legs, two fingers pushing into the still loose and lube-wet hole with a breathless moan. It wasn’t enough, but it’d get him there since his fingers were all he had. 

Harry had taken his time that night and taught Harvey more about his body than he realized he was missing out on. It was strange and kind of awful how easily he came from a man’s hands. How loud his hole had been, and how damnable responsive he was to Harry. He tried to reason then with the torrent of emotions by saying it was all for the prize money, never mind 20K was pocket change to him. 

His first taste of cock, and it was because Jessica Pearson said he couldn’t woo a man. 

The condom being pulled out of him had felt heavy, and he remembered the tugging at his rim when Harry finally pulled it free. 

Spreading his fingers he added a third finger, body sinking into the bed as he came and Harry’s name tumbled from his lips. Looking down at his sticky hands Harvey cursed again when the emptiness returned.

Chapter Text

Come over.

Harry stared at the message on his screen, the notification no more than three minutes old, but the person had been on his mind the entire day.

It’s not Saturday.

He replied, and it wasn’t. As far as the calendar went, Tuesday had yet to make a full turn, yet Harvey was messaging him, demanding he stop whatever he was doing and bike across town.

Come over.

Harry swallowed, thumb rubbing his temple.

It sounded far less like a demand and more like a request now. A plea. Harvey didn’t plead, not even in the bedroom.

Closing the folder he was working on Harry shoved it in his bag with the rest of the documents on the case he was working on before logging out of his computer. Grabbing his helmet, he nodded to the other late-night detectives, and in two minutes he was revving out of the parking lot.

Harvey met him by the door before he managed to knock, hands pulling him inside and drawing him down into a heated kiss, his clothes falling to the ground with every stumbling step they took away from the foyer.

Harry moaned into the kiss, hands sliding underneath Harvey’s thin cashmere to touch the skin hidden beneath, thumbs grazing over his abdomen, up his ribs, to brush stiff nipples. Harvey’s moan went straight to his dick that hardened to full mass the second the attorney initiated the kiss, something in the seven months of being fuck exclusive buddies, Harvey never did.

The cashmere was tossed to the ground a foot away from Harry’s own shirt, and he palmed the perky ass through sweatpants that probably cost more than his apartment. Pushing them down, he waited until Harvey stepped from them before he lifted the man from the floor and set him on the white marble island countertop.

Harvey gazed at him in amusement, pretty brown eyes dark under his arousal, and his pink lips twitching upward.

“I thought I told you that I don’t fuck where I eat,” he murmured, but under Harry’s watchful gaze, his legs spread anyway.

“Good thing we aren’t fucking here then. Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

All humor washed from Harvey’s face, and Harry saw the exact moment the man closed up, whatever tiny opening in his walls sealed away as if it never existed in the first place.

“We don’t do this, you know that.”

“We also don’t call one another on a Tuesday night when you specified Saturdays only.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, foot lifting to push at Harry’s belly to get him away, but Harry wrapped his hand around the pale ankle to hold it still.

“I didn’t call you.”

“Semantics.”

“Well, semantics won’t hold up in court.”

“Lucky for me, this isn’t court, you aren’t a judge, and you’re avoiding the question.”

Harry weathered the glare with ease, hand stopping the other foot from raising, and with both ankles in hand now, he tugged hard enough for Harvey to lose his balance, a yelp filling the open space, and now flat on his back, Harvey stared up at Harry who hovered above. Harvey averted his gaze first.

There was a stubborn tilt to Harvey’s jaw, one that said nothing but Jessica Pearson or God could get him to talk.

Harry exhaled through his nose, hands trailing from pale ankles, up alabaster thighs and ticklish sides to gently pull Harvey into a seated position again.

“You like to make deals, so let’s make one.”

Harvey still refused to glance his way but was unable to completely hide his interest.

“If I can make you cum in 10 minutes or less, you make an exception this one time, like how I made one after you messaged me on a Tuesday at 10:47 PM. Deal?”

Harvey tsked at the sound logic and the blatant hypocrisy on his end if he didn’t agree, brown eyes flickering to Harry’s green eyes before falling to the outstretched hand, his own clasping the slightly larger one.

“If it’s a second over 10 minutes, then I win, and as my reward, which I will get by the way, you will never speak of this again, and I want you to fuck me nice and hard on my very expensive couch.”

Harry’s sharp inhale brought a cocky smirk to Harvey’s lips but he also couldn’t dismiss the salient emotion in the emerald green eyes. Harvey didn’t have time to figure out what it meant before he was taken down from the counter, and would it kill Harry to just let him use his legs?

His cock twitched at the show of power, and while Harvey will never admit it aloud to himself or another living soul, having Harry lift him as though he weighed nothing was more than a turn on. It positively made him ache .

Raising a brow at the detective, Harvey flinched, both brows lifting when Harry dropped to his knees before him, nose nuzzling Harvey’s naked cock, and without prelude or foreword, he gave the pink tip of Harvey’s cock a broad, bold lick before swallowing him to the hilt.

White noise filled his ears, his body jolting at the sudden explosive shock of pleasure of being swallowed into a tight, wet throat.

Harvey bowed forward nearly in half, hands gripping Harry’s shoulders, a keen moan torn from him before it stuttered on his tongue to pitch higher when two fingers slipped between his already wet cheeks. “ Fuuuck! ”

The preparation Harvey dedicated almost twenty minutes to for his own benefit used against him, long fingers pushing into his hole, his legs spreading on instinct, body seeking the familiar, gratifying solace Harry offered.

Harvey could barely see four feet in front of him, breathing elevated to panting exhales and too shallow inhales, one hand digging crescent moons into Harry’s shoulder and the next gripping his hair like a lifeline as if afraid that should he let go, he’d float away into oblivion.

“Ahh… ooh! Oh shit… shit… Harry fuck!” Harvey sounded ridiculous to his own ears. Too loud and too desperate, as if he had never received a blowjob before.

Harry slurped on his cock, length sliding from his throat to fuck back down into the slippery depths, tongue running along the underside to press veins and then Harvey’s frenulum in sync with the fingers circling his prostate.

“Thi… This wa–ahh–! Pa… part of—” Harvey whimpered, body shaking and toes curling where they were planted against the hardwood of his kitchen floor.

He was cumming already; he could feel it burning along every frayed nerve too quickly for his jumbled brain to properly string together a coherent sentence.

This wasn’t fair. Harry wasn’t fair. Not for this deal. Not for coming over to him when called even though it broke their verbal contract, and sure as hell unfair for how he left Harvey feeling the last time he came over.

White dominated his vision, Harvey’s brown eyes rolling backward slightly from the intensity of his orgasm, and his knees went weak, cum spurting out into the warm mouth still wrapped around his cock.

Harvey barely felt the two fingers slip from his twitching hole, or the fact Harry drew back, tongue catching a stray drop of cum that he swallowed with everything else.

Completely blissed out, Harvey didn’t bother to gather the strength he needed to object to Harry carrying him over to the white L sectional, throw blanket tossed aside, and without inquest or hesitation, Harry laid him down on the cushions.

He was barely a minute post orgasm, cheeks still flushed and chest heaving, but already Harry was arranging him in the next position as if Harvey was some sex doll to do his bidding.

Placed on his back, he could only watch as Harry unbuckled his belt, dark jeans stepped out of, and tanned goliath swinging free. Calloused palms grabbed him under his knees, legs pushed back until his knees were on either side of his head, early morning pilates and yoga classes paying off.

“You—” Harvey gripped the cushions behind him, back arching as far as it could lift in this position, his brown eyes widening, imploring in an unknown question not even Harvey knew.

His lips agape as Harry’s broad tip kissed his wet hole before beginning to push in, his sphincter clenching down on the intrusion, before that too, gave up.

Harvey screamed when Harry slammed inside, burying everything in him in one thrust, heavy balls slapping his lower back.

It took seven more hard thrusts like that before his cock began jumping, Harvey shaking his head at the impending orgasm as if that would bring it to a stop.

The first spurt of cum landed on his chin, and he had the good sense to close his eyes from the rest of the pearly warmth shooting on his face, and all through it, Harry had yet to stop.

Harvey wailed, hands pushing at the burly body fucking him into the couch, thick dick reaching deeper now in this obscene position.

The audible clapping of skin on skin rang throughout the Upper West Side apartment, second to Harvey’s sobbing revelation, his pretty features contorted in an exhibition of unadulterated wantonness.

“Isn’t… this what you… wanted Harvey?” Harry asked, breaths stilted, but unlike Harvey, he could still form coherent sentences, Harvey’s brown eyes unfocused and walls spasming around Harry’s cock again.

Harvey couldn’t answer him verbally, but his body did all the talking for him, the attorney crying, hands forsaking the cushions to grab onto Harry, his limp cock squirting three short bursts of watery cum onto his belly.

Harvey looked so out of it, so dazed as he took Harry’s cock without complaint, his hole a sodden, lax mess around Harry’s cock, pink rim barely clinging and insides loose and velvety.

The detective leaned closer, cock pressing half an inch deeper, Harvey’s groan devoured with the kiss, and two pumps later Harry came, cum flooding Harvey’s guts.

He rolled his hips, sowing his seed deeper into the moaning legal closer, tongue sliding against Harvey’s before sucking on the pink muscle. Pulling away and out, he kept Harvey’s knees spread, dark green gaze watching Harvey’s poor hole clench for a second before gaping wide again. The pucker winked thrice more before milky white welled to the rim to squirt out in an arching jet of creamy seed.

Harvey moaned, belly clenching, and another stream of deposited cum squirted from his spent hole until the remnant dribbled out. Slowly lowering Harvey’s legs he massaged the limbs for a minute, arms lifting the exhausted counselor from the couch and to the bed.

Tucking him under the heavy duvet, Harry’s fingers lightly scratched at the shaved hair of his fade before washing his hands and grabbing his bag.

He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, insomnia in full blast and horniness not satisfied in the slightest, so he turned his energy back to his case files and used his first night of staying over at Harvey’s to work. It was minutes to four when he felt a touch to his side, Harvey peering at him through sleep-laden eyes, confusion lining his brow.

“You only came once…” Harvey glumly mumbled, the sudden pout on his lips causing Harry to give a short laugh of surprise.

“I noticed, yeah.” Setting the folder aside, he watched Harvey blink himself more awake, hand idly rubbing his stomach under the covers.

“Why didn’t you continue? I could take it.”

“Harvey, anything more and it could be considered a crime. You were barely conscious.”

Harvey grunted, the silence piling up for so long that Harry would have believed the man to be asleep if the brown gaze were not centered on him. Harvey licked his dry lips, teeth bothering the inner lip, his eyes narrowing.

“Why did you come over?” The question was so softly spoken Harry only heard it because he was waiting for one.

“Because you asked me to,” Harry replied, and Harvey’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“That’s it? I called, so you dropped everything to come to me outside our designated fuck day? Who does that?”

Harry chuckled, a soft, breathy laugh leaving him at Harvey’s genuine befuddlement.

“That’s it,” Harry agreed, the smile on his lips widening the longer Harvey stared in disbelief.

Rolling his eyes, Harry propped himself on an elbow so he and Harvey were nearly eye to eye.

“Look, it was out of character for you, Harvey. For seven months, the only deviation you made was increasing our sessions from monthly to weekly, and even that was done after two months. This? You sounded as though you were… hurting , I guess, and I didn’t want you to hurt. Simple.”

“...Simple?” Harvey parroted, his expression plainly asking if Harry was an idiot, and like the idiot he was Harry nodded.

“ Simple. ”

The clock ticked to 4:20 AM before Harvey spoke up again. “Someone… someone important to me got fired from the firm yesterday and… and it just feels like everything is slipping out of my control and—”

Harvey scoffed.

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.”

He admitted, and Harry did another uncharacteristic thing for them, he wrapped his arm around Harvey and drew the man closer, and surprisingly, Harvey went without a fuss.

“Tell me,” Harry murmured, and Harvey paused, words trapped in his throat and on his tongue before he spilled his guts to Harry who lay there in silence, thumb rubbing mindless circles against Harvey’s arm.

It made no sense trying to get back to sleep when the sun was preparing to push its way over the horizon, and Harvey took his time in showering away the funk of sex while Harry was out fetching breakfast.

Lying on the couch in his boxers, he watched the detective putter around his kitchen, plates and cutlery taken out to dump the cream cheese and ham laden bagels, scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and sausage out onto the waiting plates.

Harvey squinted at the amount of protein being piled onto the plates and resigned himself to his fate.

It was all so… domestic, so mundane, and he found, oddly enough, he didn’t mind it one bit.

For such a large man Harry moved around silently, and Harvey followed him with his eyes as he poured them both coffee.

“You might as well just drink the sugar and milk,” He commented when he saw just how much milk and sugar Harry dumped into his coffee before he brought over Harvey’s plain black.

Harvey’s nose wrinkled at the white mess in the cop’s cup and took a dainty, upturned sip of his.

“I bring you breakfast, and you’re so judgy.” Harry's laughter was infectious, and Harvey rolled his eyes.

“Your coffee preferences are like a teenage girl’s, of course I’ll judge you.”

“And you eat plain bagels straight from the cart.”

“And?”

“ And that should be labelled a crime; it probably is somewhere in the constitution.”

Harry beckoned for him to take his hand, the officer pulling him to his feet and over to the kitchen island, where he had breakfast set out in a plate like a civilized citizen.

“My job hardly allows me to take a pit stop and eat.”

“Aren’t there laws that say a job should do exactly that?” Harry countered.

Harvey rolled his eyes yet again, fork stabbing into the egg.

“You know what I mean,”

He groused, and Harry smiled, cheeky and playful around his mouthful of turkey bacon.

Begrudgingly, Harvey had to admit, this was far better than a plain bagel and lukewarm coffee in a paper cup while rushing from the office to a client, or better yet, sending Mike rushing to a client.

“I’ll bring you breakfast a few times a week. I won’t be able to every day, but at least three days a week should be feasible.”

Chewing slowly around a bite of a warm bagel, Harvey stared at the detective as Harry stabbed the eggs, bacon, sausage, and a piece of his bagel he cut into bite-sized pieces before shoving the fork in his mouth.

“Why?” The offer while nice and a definite pro for him, hardly had any benefit for Harry.

Harry raised a brow at him, a confused countenance aimed at Harvey as if he was the one to make the proposal.

“Because I want to, Harvey. Because then I can ensure you eat something other than dough and bitterness.”

He hated repeating himself, but “Why? Why does any of that matter to you?”

Harry’s brows furrowed and his eyes squinted, lips parting to speak before closing, expression twisting with unspoken words before it smoothed out into unpretentious complacency.

“Think of it as insurance for when you message me on a day that isn’t Saturday night. You’ll have extra energy from a good breakfast to start your day, and I won’t have to go so easy on you.”

Harvey’s feathers ruffled at the insinuation that Harry hasn’t been putting his entire back into their sex out of concern for him. “ Easy? ”

Harry’s smile twitched a bit wider, but he stuffed more food into his mouth to avoid answering.

“You’ve been going easy on me? Excuse me? ” Harvey stepped from the bench on the other side of the kitchen island and rounded the counter, Harry moving faster the closer he got with a short burst of laughter.

“I’ll show you easy you—”

Harry turned around suddenly, and Harvey found himself being lifted off the ground, his legs reflexively wrapping around Harry’s waist. Harry turned around again, his feet taking him towards the bedroom.

“I have work in an hour, where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bathroom so you can show me, and so we can shower. Two birds.”

“I have work in an hour , did all the shootouts you adrenaline junkies have burst your eardrums?”

“And we can be done in fifteen if you’d cooperate. I realize we’ve never had a quickie before.”

“You can’t be serious.” Harvey was hardly making any move to get away, nor was he voicing much objection, not when he was already tenting his boxers.

Harry set him down on the shower mat, hands pulling at the hem of his black shirt to bring it over his head and from there he made quick work of the remainder of his clothing. Harvey’s gaze tilted downward to the heavy cock twitching midair, the delicious curve causing him to linger on it.

Licking his lips, Harvey cursed his libido and made a mental note to text Mike to meet him down by city hall so he could avoid Donna’s probing gaze about his lateness.

Stepping backward into the shower, he turned on the hot water, bathroom lube blindly grabbed, and between the toe-curling kiss and Harry’s fingers slickening his still soft hole, Harvey really couldn’t give a fuck anymore.

Chapter Text

The vibration of his phone distracted him from the briefing being done by the precinct Sergeant, curiosity spiking when he saw the notification was from Harvey.

A video sat in their chat waiting to be downloaded and Harry turned his phone off without giving in to temptation and viewing it there in the bullpen. The last time Harvey sent him anything that needed to be downloaded, it had been… enlightening to say the least.

That didn’t mean he was about to watch his not-boyfriend pleasure himself while surrounded on all sides by his co-workers and boss. No amount of HD quality perky ass was worth the embarrassment or the reprimand.

The second he was free from the late-night meeting, he stuck himself in a corner of the room, away from the cameras, and pressed download, his Bluetooth earphones in.

Pinching his nose-bridge, he exhaled slowly through his mouth and ignored the righteous jump his cock made in his jeans.

If this was some elaborate ploy of Harvey’s to send Harry to an early grave, the lawyer would be pleased to know it was working.

Listening to the soft, stifled sounds Harvey made in the video he watched with zealous attention as the pink dildo slipped into Harvey’s slippery insides, a small exhale of air leaving the attorney in the video.

A whole three minutes of Harvey fucking himself on a dildo. Was this a gift or a provocation? Pulling up the keyboard he fumbled with the letters until he managed to type out a question. 

Is this some kind of reward?

He pressed send and willed his cock to remember the fact that they were still at work and not somewhere private.

Harvey’s response came quicker than he expected.

Something like that.

With an attached picture of his hand wrapped around his straining cock.

Harry closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his mind was made up.

His co-workers eyed him with surprise as he packed up files into his bag and grabbed his helmet.

“You must have a hot date that you’re leaving this early.”

As if the ungodly hours they worked for overtime could be considered anything near the realm of ‘early’.

He glanced up at his partner, Bill, who sipped at his coffee, not the piss water the street cops had but the good stuff they in the Organized Crime Department pitched in together to buy. Zipping his bag, he hefted it onto his shoulders and bumped the side of his fist to Bill’s on his way out.

“See you in the morning, Bill. Tell Mel I said hello, yea?”

“Of course, and you’re gonna tell me who it is one day, right? Right!?”

Harry raised his hand in goodbye and sent a text to Harvey.

It took 20 minutes to get there even while weaving between lanes and traffic, and he barely got two knocks on the door in before Harvey opened it. He took in the lawyer standing in the doorway in just a teeshirt that was a bit too big for him, black socks, his hair mussed, and eyes hungry but what really stood out to Harry was the busted lip and eyebrow.

“Harvey, what the hell happened? Who the fuck did this to you?” All good humor and anticipation evaporated. Dropping his helmet and bag, Harry cupped Harvey’s face, gentle fingers pressing the area around each cut.

Harvey grunted, brown eyes rolling as if Harry was being insufferable for asking about his well-being.

“You should see the other guy,” Harvey chirped, pleased and cocky smile curling at his pink lips, and normally, the sight of it would appease Harry and motivate him to remove it, but not this time.

“Harvey, I’m serious,”

“And so am I,”

He leaned down and grabbed the bike helmet, his other hand taking a fistful of Harry’s tee-shirt to drag him inside and out of the door jab. “I’m not some preppy punk who can’t fight Harry. Literally, you should see the other guy. ”

Harry’s brows only furrowed further, and Harvey heaved a sigh, hand setting the helmet on a kitchen stool so it was free to curl at Harry’s nape. Pulling the detective down closer to his height, Harvey pressed a kiss to the officer’s lips, soft and chaste.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he asked, his other arm mimicking the first, and Harry snorted in abject surprise at the brashness of Harvey Specter.

“I was doing work before you called me over.”

“I didn’t call you. I simply sent media to your device. You decided you wanted to come over, so now it’d be really great if you could come in me.”

Harvey watched as a smile twitched at Harry’s lips at the age-old ‘argument’ between them, his own curving upward too in a pleased grin.

“Do you feel proud of yourself for what just left your mouth?”

“I haven’t felt shame since kindergarten.” Harvey retorted.

Harry snorted before he took two handfuls of Harvey’s ass to lift him from the ground, and Harvey once again marveled at the sheer raw strength Harry possessed.

Wrapping his legs around the tapered waist reflexively, he saw the moment Harry felt the lube between his cheeks and the cool metal nestled between them. So close to Harry’s face, he saw the green eyes dilate, pupil expanding.

“You were walking around like this while waiting for me?”

Harvey failed to keep his poker face a second longer, the flush he so adamantly kept down painting his cheeks, and his hole clenched around the small plug in him.

Harry’s voice was like smoke, a husky timbre that went straight to his dick, cock tenting under the black tee-shirt.

“You’re not answering?” Harry prodded, fingers pressing against the flared base of the toy to push it a tiny bit deeper, and though it could never compare to Harry, Harvey moaned.

“What if I was? You took almost two hours to get here.”

He wasn’t pouting, just stating facts, and when Harry laid him flat on the bed to crawl after him, Harvey’s breath hitched at the rough hands that slid up his bare thighs.

“I was at work, remember?”

“And now you’re here, yet still not fucking me.”

“You sound impatient.” Harry’s fingers were replaced by his lips, and against his calf, Harvey felt the curve of his lips.

“If you aren’t gonna do it, then I might as well finish what I started.”

Okay, maybe he was being a bit impatient, but he had looked forward to this the entire day. No legal banter and then a fist fight could diminish the literal hunger he felt since waking up this morning for Harry. It was ridiculous at this point, this voracity aimed at and only for the detective between his legs.

So maybe he was a bit bitchy, but between seeing Donna cry and dealing with the case, he needed this more than ever.

Harry paused on his journey up Harvey’s thighs, eyes narrowing, and before Harvey could brace himself, the toy was pulled out of him.

The sudden shock of stimulation caused him to clench around it, the silver anal plug leaving him with a wet pop, and his suddenly empty hole was quickly replaced by three fingers.

Harvey’s back arched from the back, heels pressing into the bed and balls tightening from the unexpected but welcomed intrusion, Harry’s fingers slipping easily inside his wet hole to slide and pin his prostate under them.

“Fuuuck! Mhm!” he tried to keep the tremble from his voice to not show just how easily Harry managed to rile him up without actually trying. A futile endeavor he failed at before even beginning.  

“Y’know, Harvey, I actually enjoy being the one to loosen you up.”

His fingers pressed deeper, and Harvey whimpered, toes curling.

“I like seeing your face when you realize just how easy your body gives in to me, that little look of contrition that crosses your face when you find yourself feeling pleasure quicker than the last time. The way your hole softens and opens up for me at the slightest touch.”

Harvey heard the filthy retreat of Harry’s fingers, lube squelching then squirting out when they were rammed back in.

“Compared to when we first did it, you’re so soft on the inside. So pliable, Harvey. If you’re not careful, I’ll turn your asshole into a pussy,”

Harvey flushed at the rather vulgar words. He was far from a Saint with his womanizing ways, but even he never said such a thing in any capacity to a woman before. It was offensive, and obscene, and…

His cock jumped under the shirt, sensitive tip rubbing against the soft material to draw a breathy moan from him, Harry’s fingers slipping out to rub over his twitching hole.

“Shut up…” Harvey muttered, snark absent in the face of his arousal.

Harry smiled against his inner thigh, hands lifting Harvey’s lower half off the bed to fold him in half, and once again, Harvey thanked his consistent early morning workouts for this flexibility.

From the bed, he watched with widening eyes as Harry leaned in closer, the tip of a pink tongue pressing against his puckered hole before it breached the pink ring.

“Hgnnn!” Harvey’s toes curled, white sheet clenched between fingers, and eyes unable to tear away from the sight of Harry between his legs.

The black tee-shirt slid down to his chest exposing his belly and the underside of his nipples to Harry, whose gaze dragged over them as languidly as the tongue in him.

Harvey swallowed hard as the tongue dove deeper, a reedy moan escaping him to complement the squirming muscle sliding against his quivering walls. Harry bent his tensed legs closer to his chest, body following the flow of motion, tongue going as far as it possibly could, and Harvey cursing aloud when those lube-wet fingers wrapped around his dick.

“Oh god… oh god… oh fuuck …”  

Harry slurped on his hole, gathering lube and saliva in his mouth to spit it back onto and into Harvey. It was absolutely filthy, and Harvey’s vision blurred, legs trembling, and cock drooling more and more precum in response to the tittivation.

He should be focusing on wrapping up the Ava Hessington case, but here he was getting his ass eaten out on his expensive 600 thread count cotton sheets. He and Jessica should be putting their heads together to confront Darby about the mess he inadvertently created, but—

Harry’s tongue briefly left his hole to lick over his taint, hot mouth sucking on Harvey’s balls as his thumb rubbed over his tip, then down to his frenulum. Saliva frothed at the ingress of his hole before his walls swallowed it down again with a clench.

Harry had yet to stop stroking him, mouth latching onto the curve of his ass to place a possessive bite there on the pale skin, and another on the back of his thigh before sucking an eager bruise on the meaty inner thigh.

Harvey moaned with each indentation of teeth in his skin, pleasure and pain swirling around one another in a confusing sensation.

Harry’s nose dragged along the freshly placed mark, over Harvey’s balls, and tongue once more licking him open with devastatingly patient measure. His tongue dipping into the wet snatch to tease the sensitive rim, then down, down, down into the trembling walls.

Harvey gave a quavering groan, eyes fluttering close then open with a gasp, left leg jerking when Harry’s hand sped up, tongue fucking Harvey with such ravenousness his walls shuddered.

“Ahh… oh shit… oh fuck! Harry! Harry fuck… fuck me— fu– ooough —!”

His cock jumped twice, and Harvey whimpered, hand pushing at Harry’s head in a poor attempt to force him away from his overly sensitive hole, but Harry held fast, fingers digging into the muscle along Harvey’s shaking thighs.

He couldn’t stop the sludge of cum that squirted from his cock and down onto his face. Five heavy spurts of cum landing on his forehead, cheek, and chin, and the rest pooled under his neck.

Harry stroked him through the orgasm, tongue giving one last messy slurp before it retreated. Hands lowered him down onto the bed, strong fingers massaging permissive thighs to send blood flow back through them and to ease his straining muscles.

Harvey barely felt any of it, body tingling in post-orgasmic rhapsody to the point he had yet to catch his breath.

Through half-lidded eyes, he watched as the NYPD’s finest stripped, the black tee-shirt identical to the one bunched halfway up Harvey’s chest taken off. Harvey stared at the flexing muscles along the tanned abdomen, well-defined and clearly trained. Thin faded scars and grazes of puckered tissue scattered without rhythm over the expanse. He’d ask about them one day, just not today, not right now when he was finally getting what he wanted.

Brown eyes drifted lower to where long fingers unbuckled the black belt, black jeans pushed down along with his underwear, and Harvey bit the inside of his lip at the sight of Harry’s cock.

Nine months ago, he wouldn’t have looked twice at another man’s dick. Could walk into a restroom and piss at the urinals without curiosity spiking, but now, manners prevailed to not look to compare them to Harry.

Nine months ago, he never would’ve considered a dick other than his own to be beautiful, but Harry’s, with its flushed pink tip, fat veins, and upward curve, could get the title.

“Want me to wash up?”

Harvey blinked, and it took him a few seconds longer to realize Harry was speaking to him, head shaking before the words were really processed, and Harry climbed back onto the bed to settle in the valley of Harvey’s legs.

He peered up at the handsome face, fingers reaching up to brush the beginning of stubble, and wondered if he’d have stubble burn in the morning.

Harry took his hand, and in a move that made his heart skip a fucking beat, the detective kissed Harvey’s palm, a romantic little thing that caused a blush to rise to his already flushed cheeks. He had no time to question the action, Harry already lifting his legs again, and with a pillow stuffed under his lower back, Harvey bit his lip.

Shielding his twitching hole with a hand, he stared petulantly at Harry, a glower in the furrow of his brow at Harry’s amusement.

“You don’t want to?” Harry questioned, patience oozing from his pores and eyes as kind as they were that random night Harvey gallantly chose him to pop his backdoor cherry.

It wasn’t a question of whether Harvey wanted to; of course he wanted to, but he knew if he showed any sign of uncertainty Harry would understand, because that was the type of person the detective was. But there was no denying the static racing across every hair on his body, the tingling sensation twisting and coiling in his guts, the very same one that caused his hole to convulse with need.

An urgency to be fucked by the man above him, one so strong that Harvey feared it.

This entire arrangement was wrong— not wrong in the sense of criminal , but unlike Harvey.

Harry should have been nothing more than a one-time experiment to sate Harvey’s curiosity. Someone he tossed to the side the next morning like a wet tissue, but here he laid on his back with a body alive with anticipation.

“Harvey?”

Harry’s amusement waned to concern, and Harvey clenched his jaw, fingers spreading to expose the quivering pink pucker drooling lube and saliva.

He was one of New York’s top attorneys for fucks sake. Nothing phased him. Nothing should be able to move him.

Harry leaned closer, cock knocking against Harvey’s balls, and a hand cupped his face, a gentle tap to his cheek.

“Harvey? Are you okay?” Worry shone in those eyes, a green Harvey sought to find in a pocket square.

“I’m fine, just wondering how long you’re gonna take before you fuck me, detective,” he mumbled, throat clearing to chase away the rough crackling in his voice.

His hand lifted from between his cheeks to grasp the fat length, Harry’s cock twitching violently in his palm.

Harry still looked unsure, but the flash of heat in his eyes quickly gained ground on his worriment when Harvey began sliding his hand along the length.

Spreading his legs, he pressed the bulbous tip to his sopping hole, and like a dog being led on a leash, Harry followed. Harvey’s eyes closed, pink lips forming a gratified O that bolstered Harry’s rumbling groan, and he felt every inch fill him, walls trembling around the heavy cock spreading them further apart.

Small noises left him, sounds growing louder and louder the deeper Harry filled him, curved tip dragging against his prostate to send fire down his spine. Harry bottomed out and forced Harvey to move his fingers, calloused hand lifting the attorney’s left leg to place it over his shoulder.

“Mhm!” Harvey leaned into the hand cupping the back of his head, a cradle that felt as soft as his sheets, one full of so much care he felt confliction bubble before pleasure consumed it.

Harvey couldn’t look away from the intensity of the soft stare, green eyes pinning him in place as good as his cock did, and when Harry moved, cock withdrawing and sending his overwhelmed walls into a tizzy, he cried out upon its return.

“Ah… Agh… Mhmm!” Digging his blunt nails into Harry’s broad shoulders, Harvey rocked with the slow swaying of Harry’s hips, thrusts pressing and rubbing his prostate with each downward plunge.

It was too slow, too affectionate, and Harvey hated it, disliked everything from the way Harry held him in firm but tender hands. The way he looked down on Harvey with those eyes that said he felt something, and Harvey hated it because he recognized his own hypocrisy.

Harvey gasped, breathing staggered to ragged exhales and too short inhales. His skin felt tight, hairs on his body seemingly electrified. This pressure felt surreal, unlike any other orgasm he had at Harry’s hand and cock, a whimper cut short by a loud groan.

“Ooh! Fuck— ahh… Harry I’m— I’m coming, I’m— ooogh – fuck! Comingcomingcom —!”

Harry continued rolling his hips, his cock sparking a fuse within Harvey that ran along the detonating cord, and suddenly he was coming, his body shaking and fingers digging deep into the sweaty skin of the man fucking him into senseless babble.

“That’s it, Harvey… that’s it… cum for me, Harvey, that’s my beautiful boy…” Harry murmured, and Harvey shuddered as another wave bashed into him; Harry’s voice shifting something in his guts, and all too soon he was coming again.

He spasmed, a shudder so violent his leg cramped, but nothing could stop the spray of clear liquid squirting from between his legs and drenching his chest and the shirt, and still Harry fucked him through it, cock aimed accurately on his prostate.

Harvey felt wave after wave crash into his coherence until it fell like wet sand, vision blurred by irrational tears and the pleasurable horror that his cock was still squirting, the liquid soaking the bed and him. His leg slid from Harry’s shoulder, legs splayed open without the energy to move.

Harry groaned, his hips moving a little faster now, cock bulging Harvey’s belly just under his naval. Harvey moaning brokenly at the increase in speed, Harry holding him tighter, closer, as his breath huffed in ragged exhales against Harvey’s ear.

He could feel how close Harry was to cumming and exhaustion notwithstanding, Harvey clenched down around the thick cock in him, walls fluttering to milk Harry.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Harry cursed, and with one last stomach bulging thrust, he gave a weak moan, cum gushing out into Harvey’s guts.

Harvey groaned at the sensation, muscles in his legs twitching in an aftereffect of post orgasmic bliss.

Brushing his fingers through Harry’s damp hair, Harvey relished in the placidity, hands cradling the man who tried his best, even in exhaustion, not to put his full bodyweight on him. Harvey gave a small whimper when Harry pulled out, softening cock displacing the influx of lube, spit, and cum, the concoction slowly oozing out of him seconds later.

It all dissolved from there, Harvey’s memory spotty between the quick call for Chinese takeout, Harry changing the bedsheets while Harvey lay on the couch with a weakness he only achieved from nights with Harry. The type of tired where he felt so immensely satisfied moving would be an affront to the feat.

Chinese takeout became sex on the couch and then sex in the shower, Harvey not complaining when Harry carried him to bed, his legs retired for the night, and sense of direction in disarray.

Sleeping after Harry wrung everything out of him thrice over was always blissful. The kind where he neither dreamt nor woke up with his brain racing full of solutions and plans for cases. Being the best closer in New York had its perks, like a three-million-dollar annual wage plus bonuses, but it also came with the territory of being perpetually wound up.

Not that he’d ever tell Mike, Jessica, or god forbid Louis that. Donna probably knew, since she apparently knew everything about him, but to the associates and other employees at Pearson-Darby, he was an immortal God who didn't need to sleep or rest.

It was draining being the best, but once a week— twice, sometimes three times a week, he had the ability to shed that mantel, toss it to the side, and let someone wear the crown. He hated being second in anything because all the glory went to the first place winner, not the runner-up up no matter what anyone said.

Harvey frowned when his pillow shifted and he reached out to stop it from moving, only to have it grunt.

Harry inhaled sharply, awake in the blink of an eye with the type of practice only well-trained people had, his hand reaching over to the night stand for his phone that vibrated in constant ringing.

“Potter...” He grunted after answering.

Harvey squinted, bleary eyes blinded momentarily by the mellow light of the bedside lamp Harry flicked on, his pillow getting up from the bed with the phone still to his ear.

Harry dressed quickly for a man who had been asleep a minute ago, but Harvey supposed when one's entire wardrobe consisted of tees and jeans, it’d be rather easy to dress in a flash. Closing his eyes, he began to drift off again, half an ear listening to Harry’s conversation that grew more clipped towards the end.

“Alright, I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Tell SWAT to wait, that’s my C.I they’re about to use.”

Gun holster and badge both clipped onto his belt, his jacket slipped on last Harry ran a mental check to make sure he had everything. Hanging up the call, he leaned across the bed, hand gently brushing Harvey’s hair back to press a tender, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“Love you, Harvey.”

Harry murmured to him, and Harvey grunted softly, the words tumbling from his tongue before he grew aware.

“Love ‘ou too, be ‘areful…”

Harry’s hand lingered on his forehead for a few seconds more before he stood, the silent trek from the bedroom to the front door with the soft click of the lock turning to signal his departure.

Harvey stared wide-eyed at the spot Harry had occupied seconds ago, his mind and heart fighting for first place in the race they had committed to. With all remnants of sleep gone, Harvey rolled over onto his back, his hand touching the still-warm pillow Harry slept on.

He grabbed it after a moment of hesitation and squeezed it to his chest, his face buried into the pillow that smelled like Harry.

He heard something he shouldn’t have, and in return committed a taboo by saying something he shouldn’t have said in a million years.

Harvey tried not to think about the tingling spot on his forehead where Harry kissed him, the warmth spreading from his forehead down to his chest— ahh shit, his heart was winning the race.

Chapter Text

“These are the files for Darby’s–” Donna paused mid-sentence, and Harvey tensed behind his desk, head low and pretending to be focused on the current files opened in front of him.

“Harvey,”

He glanced up slowly and sighed at the look he saw in Donna’s eyes. The look that said she caught wind of something and would find out whether he cooperated or not. There was very little in the office Donna didn’t know about, less than little when it came to Harvey.

Yet, he managed to hide his fuck buddy relationship with Harry from her for the past nine months… until now, that is.

“Harvey, are you seeing someone?” she asked slowly, and the black dress she wore made her look more like a cat when she leaned forward.

He hated how his heart did a tiny backflip in his chest at the mention of ‘seeing someone,’ and he grunted out a no.

Donna hummed.

“So why are you wearing Tobacco Vanille? I bought you that cologne almost 6 years ago, and you’ve only worn it twice, both times just happened to be when you were in—”

“Alright, alright!” He held up a hand in surrender to stop her from saying any more and didn’t need to look up to see the smug smirk on her face.

“Sooo, who’s the lucky lady? Could it be Scotty? ‘Cause I’ve seen her–”

“It’s not Scotty.”

Donna raised a brow and got comfortable in one of the chairs in front his desk, leg crossing over the next.

“You haven’t traveled lately, so it can’t be a flight attendant.”

“Who can’t be a flight attendant?” Mike asked, files in hand as he took the other chair in front of Harvey’s desk.

Harvey groaned, and Donna’s smile widened.

“Harvey’s seeing someone new, you can tell by the fact he’s wearing Tom Ford’s Tobacco Vanille. That’s his ‘I’m in love’ cologne.”

Mike’s blue eyes widened. “Harvey, you’re in love?”

Mike sounded touched by the prospect, and Harvey wanted to throw his hands in the air, but would never give them the benefit of seeing that.

“I’m not in love!”

“Okay, his ‘I’m in my feelings about someone’ cologne,” She rectified, if only to hear him groan yet again.

A knock at the door and Louis popped in, a good morning extended to everyone in the room.

“Donna, have you seen Stacy Abrams yet this morning?”

“Accounting Stacy Abrams or Marketing Stacy Abrams?”

“Uhh, Accounting.”

“She normally takes her breakfast with the grunts from HR.”

“Gotcha, thanks, Donna.”

Louis’s grin turned slightly softer, and Harvey rolled his eyes at the love-struck idiot, only to flinch when Louis’s eyes narrowed on him.

What was with him and reacting so easily today? Normally, he had a poker face to rival the best, but today even Louis somehow garnered a reaction.

“Have you changed your skincare routine? Cause whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it, Harvey,”

Harvey blinked, then blinked again, and regretted every second it took to mull over and process those words.

“...What?”

Louis motioned to his own face.

“You’ve got this glow about you like you got a great facial or something. Hell, I hate to say it, but you even look younger. Did you try mudding? Ooh! Did you get a deep tissue massage?”

Harvey stared at Louis in disbelief, and Donna, the traitor, nodded her head in agreement.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to get him to tell me too! I wanna know the name of his amazing masseuse!”

Harvey forced a smile at Donna, his gaze promising retribution. “They aren’t taking any new clients.”

“But I just wanna know her name so I can make an appointment at a later date,”

“They are booked for the foreseeable future, Donna.” He gritted out through his teeth.

“So you have an exclusive masseuse, is what you’re saying.”

“I’m not saying anything, just that I know their schedule, and it’s filled up.”

“Y’know, typically people use the pronoun ‘they’ when speaking about a male figure.”

Mike idly supplied while marking something on the papers in his hands in red, and Harvey wondered who he should murder first. His very talented associate or his equally talented secretary?

“Oh my god, Harvey, are you embarrassed your masseuse is a guy? I’ll have you know, men give the best facials and since their hands are so much bigger than a woman’s, they can really get into the spots a woman can’t. Like really deep into you and—”

“Okay, stop!” Harvey stood from his seat, the tips of his ears burning.

“Thank you, Louis for pointing out the difference in my skin, I’ve noticed it too. No, you cannot get my masseuse’s name or location, I’m very possessive of it.”

“I bet you are.” Donna teased, before she and Mike giggled like a bunch of school girls.

He pointed an imperious finger at the door.

“Get out, all of you.” He left no room for argument, and Louis pouted as Donna ushered him out, a sly smile on her lips until only Mike remained, his hand raising the folders.

“We actually have work to do, or can I get the rest of the day off?”

“In your dreams.”

They worked silently for a few minutes before Mike cleared his throat, blue eyes flickering up to peer at Harvey, whose head was bowed in concentration. Harvey looked up when Mike tapped the desk with his index finger, brown eyes following the finger right up to Mike’s gaze, his scowl from earlier coming back in full force.

“Mike—”

“I know, I know, it’s none of my business, but I just wanted you to know that there’s nothing wrong with having a male masseuse, never mind Louis’s rather uh… vivid encouragement. You’re entitled to like or love who you want to like or love, and if this guy is— if he’s the one that makes you as excited to head home as you’ve been these last couple months, then I say go for it.”

Silence stretched between them for a minute, Harvey’s cheeks tinging pink. “You uh, you noticed that?”

Mike smiled at him, one full of genuine happiness aimed at him, for him.

“You stopped asking me out for drinks a while ago, and you haven’t used your morning suit either. You’ve been heading home at a reasonable time at least three days a week. It’s a good thing, Harvey.”

He didn’t know what to say to Mike, who seemed to have high expectations for Harvey, and this newfound adventure he really didn’t feel like going on, but his feet took initiative anyway. Mike, who had found the love of his life in a law firm, began to do more in said relationship than Harvey had in all his years of dating.

It intimidated him slightly, this faith Mike held in him when Harvey still couldn’t place the specific emotion he felt towards the development from last night.

Alarms set off in his head followed by a slight stirring in his chest he knew to be anxiety. Serious relationships were tricky, and unlike every impossible-to-win case he was assigned, he somehow never seemed to fully grasp them.

Fundamentally, he knew this all stemmed from his mother and the shit she did. His lack of trust in his partner, the paranoia that maybe one day he would end up like his father, alone, heartbroken, and sobbing into a bottle. A possibility he avoided all his life by avoiding commitment and knowing when to jump ship before he got hurt.

Mike’s blue eyes stared at him full of hope and happiness for his future, and Harvey swallowed the lump in his throat with a nod, hands making themselves busy and forcing his brain to do the same.

Harvey groaned into the pillow, hand blindly reaching for his phone where he thought he had left it on the nightstand. Squinting at the time, he cursed softly and turned in bed only to freeze at the sight of a sleeping Scotty. Her brown hair a dark cascade down her thankfully not naked back, and as if sensing his stare, she woke up with a groan equal to his own.

“Ugh… how many drinks did we have?” she groaned into the pillow, and Harvey snorted, though he regretted it shortly after.

“Too many. We’re gonna be late,”

“You mean you’re gonna be late. I won’t have a job by the end of the week if I’m unlucky,”

“I mean, I could always talk to Jessica and see if she’d be willing to cut you a deal.” Harvey offered, and Scotty rolled over to face him, hangover unable to hide the skepticism on her pretty features.

“...And why would you do that exactly?”

Climbing from the bed, Harvey stretched his stiff body while partially ignoring, but preening nonetheless, under the appreciative look Scotty sent over his body.

“As an apology for making you unemployed,”

“And not because you wanna get back under my dress?”

“Did I seem like I wanted to last night?”

Scotty paused and sat up in the bed, eyes narrowed. “No, actually, which was weird,” she shook her head.

“You were really weird last night. I remember you asking questions about relationships and statistics about same-sex divorce rates.”

Harvey stumbled on his way to the bathroom, his incredulous stare and rumpled clothes causing Scotty to snort, then groan when it jarred her pounding head.

“Excuse me? I did what?”

“Like I said, you were being really weird.”

“Or maybe you were so drunk you imagined all of that.”

Scotty gave him a flat stare before she flung the covers back and stumbled toward the kitchen, Harvey following her retreat to the coffee pot and the dress shirt that was very much his. The unfamiliar feeling of dread wormed its way into his chest, and he swallowed the unease threatening to come up his throat.

“Dana.”

She paused at the use of her first name, something people in her inner circle of attorneys rarely used, especially Harvey. She turned, brows furrowing at the conflict and worry she saw on Harvey’s face, his pallor just a shade lighter. He looked vaguely sick to her eyes.

“Did… did we–” he motioned between them, and she followed his finger that pointed from his person to her.

“You’re asking if we had sex?”

He nodded, and normally Scotty would’ve taken him to the shits and given him a hard time as per the rules and regulations their complicated relationship dictated, but from where she stood with one foot in the living room and the next in the kitchen, she felt the anxious air surrounding him.

He was being weird again, and she hoped she knew him well enough to know why as much as she didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Shaking her head, Dana motioned to his dress shirt.

“No, we didn’t have sex, Harvey. I spilled something on my dress, I think salsa or something from the taco truck, and you lent me one of your shirts. That’s it, I promise.”

She watched him physically deflate in relief, and the simmering question burned its way up her throat.

“Harvey, are you seeing someone?”

He froze, and Scotty felt her heart pinch, the silence stretching between them broken by the ringing of the doorbell. She turned away first and boldly left the bedroom to open the door in just Harvey’s shirt.

An inconsiderate move, sure, and Harvey will probably give her an earful later about answering his door dressed like that, but whatever, it was better than hearing his answer.

Yanking it open she craned her head back to stare at the tall man on the other side of the threshold, dressed in all black, a motorcycle helmet under one arm. What smelled like breakfast in a brown handled bag. Two XL cups of coffee sat in a cup holder in his other hand, the names Harvey and Harry scrawled messily in black ink on the cups.

Scotty’s brow raised in surprise, the stranger’s own lifted as well, and she suddenly felt very foolish for answering the door in just a shirt when his eyes went down her almost naked body.

“Uh, are you the delivery guy?”

She could kick herself for such a dumb question, especially after seeing Harvey’s name next to ‘Harry’ on the coffee cups. This intimidating looking man was very obviously not the delivery guy.

“Is Harvey in?”

His surprise changed to sharp scrutiny, and Scotty caught the flash of a holstered gun under the black leather jacket with a glint of gold. She blinked and stepped back, finger pointing to where Harvey was coming towards the door from around the corner. Brown eyes shifted from her to the man, and the nervousness was back. The anxiety he showed earlier drawing lines along his features and limbs.

His questions from last night and the singular most important one he asked less than two minutes ago all answered with the presence of the stranger holding breakfast.

Scotty stared at Harvey, the realization slamming itself into her chest to knock her breathless, and the pinching in her heart turned to what felt like a stab.

The cop put the breakfast for two onto the kitchen counter, his helmet going on the empty table by the door where Scotty vaguely recalled once held a stupid expensive statement vase.

“Scotty,”

Harvey’s voice pulled her from her inner musings, and she glanced up to find two pairs of eyes watching her; one discerning and the other practically telling her to get lost.

“I’ll um— I’ll go and get dressed, busy day at work.”

Holding her head high, she strode past both men, one fully dressed and ready for the day, and the next in a rumpled shirt and boxers.

Gathering her dress from the washing machine, she thanked God one of them had the good sense to toss it in last night. Hurrying to the master bathroom, she closed the door to dress as quickly as she could.

“It’s not what you think.” Harvey blurted out and winced at the stereotypical cheater’s opening line.

Harry remained silent for several long seconds before sitting on one of the barstools framing the island counter, his posture mostly relaxed, but Harvey saw the tenseness along his shoulders.

“Okay. Explain it to me then.”

The soft baritone knocked the wind from Harvey’s uneasy sails, and he took two uncertain steps towards the seated detective, his feet taking charge to guide him just out of arm's reach.

“We went out drinking last night and crashed, that’s it.”

“Mhm, okay. She’s your ex-girlfriend.”

It wasn’t a question like Harvey expected, but said with such confident certainty it ruffled his feathers slightly.

His shoulders raised a bit closer to his ears. “She is, and?”  

Harry shook his head gently, “There’s no ‘and’ Harvey, just putting the pieces together,”

“Putting the pieces— this isn’t some investigation for you to solve. I told you what happened; case closed.”

He didn’t know why he was being so defensive over a simple question, but the aggression caused something nondescript to cross Harry’s expression.

“Just like that, case closed? I don’t get to have an opinion?”

“An opinion about what Harry?”

Harvey wanted to stop talking, but the words kept coming, apprehension mixed with fear— not of Harry, but of everything that was building between them.  

“It’s not like I cheated, how could I when we’re not exclusive. So even if I brought a dozen women into my home, you have no say in the matter because we’re not together.”

He bit his tongue too late.

Harry nodded in agreement, jaw clenched and right hand gripping his knee before it went lax. The stare of his green eyes was piercing, and Harvey looked away before they peeled back the layers of his panic.

“So what was said yesterday… meant nothing to you? Is that what you’re saying, Harvey?”

Harvey wanted to lie and say that it didn’t, that the whispered tender words they exchanged in the early morning were nothing but half-asleep mumbles, but the fib stuck itself in his throat and choked him for daring to even think of doing so.

“Would you be okay if I took home one of the many people who come up to me every day?”

Harvey twitched, an ugly emotion bubbling in his gut.

“Fuck him or her and then come and do the same to you? I’m asking if you’d be okay if I did that, since we aren’t exclusive.”

That patient gaze remained unwavering on him in the face of his uncertainty; the single-minded surety of his affection for Harvey felt like the smarting of a whip.

Harry stood from his seat, long legs closing the short distance between them, his hands, large and warm, cradled Harvey’s face, and just as he did yesterday morning, Harry pressed a soft kiss to Harvey’s forehead.

“When you figure out what it is you want, you know how to get in contact with me.”

Harry murmured, and Harvey felt the slight tremble in the palms holding him, the only sign of Harry’s unease, as if he felt Harvey would never pick up the phone and call him back over ever again if he walked out the door right then.

Harry took a step back to leave, and the idea of watching Harry walk out his door with the way things were now made Harvey feel physically ill. Swallowing something acerbic, Harvey grabbed hold of his hand, fingers curling around callused limb.

“W-Wait!”

He should let him go and allow whatever bubbling feelings between them to simmer to nothingness, but he couldn’t. The idea of someone else touching – fucking – Harry made his insides twist in ugly jealousy just as much as the thought of him having slept with Scotty made him feel ill.

“Wait, please. I–”

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– I didn’t mean what I said just now, it’s… it’s just–”

Harvey’s eyes burned, brown eyes wet with unshed tears, and when he peered up, he saw a look of wonder on Harry’s handsome features, as if Harry was seeing him for the first time in his expensive three-piece and not a wrinkled shirt and boxers.

“Harvey?”

“I’m scared, alright?!”

He blurted out, and Harry flinched slightly at the outburst. The one step back he took, he recovered, and Harvey shuddered at the closeness of their bodies.

“I’m— I’m scared that when, that when I give you my heart, this stupid piece of me, you won’t want me afterwards cause it's one thing to just fuck, but then another to date someone. Then there’s marriage and–”

“Y-You wanna marry me, Harvey?”

The question startled Harvey as if he wasn’t the one to bring it up, but the look on Harry’s face, one of pure stupefaction, made a ruddy flush creep onto his cheeks, and he nodded, self-consciousness beginning to sink its claws into him.

“I’m not good at this, Harry, the whole relationship thing,” He confessed and closed his eyes to lean his face into the warm chest of the detective.

“I’m selfish, and I don’t always want to compromise even when it’s the right thing to do. I hate failing, I hate losing, I’m a workaholic, and I can’t always communicate my feelings properly. I’ll probably forget your birthday and our anniversary because I’m too busy trying to stop some silver spoon jackass from going to jail. I might make you feel lonely and frustrated, and I may hurt your feelings unintentionally.”

Harry hummed, head leaning closer to the rumpled lawyer so his forehead pressed to Harvey’s head.

“Mhm, what else?”

Harvey trembled in Harry’s hold, the hands on his face slipping to rest on his hips.

“I drink too much and I’m an asshole. I don’t have many friends for you to meet, and all of them work with me. I don’t like to cook and would rather pay someone to clean than do it myself, and I spend way too much money on suits and shoes. I have a terrible relationship with my mother, and my brother doesn’t speak to me much… shit, the only person in my family I can stand is my dad.”

Harry hummed, nose brushing the soft, ungelled brown hair.

“I can’t promise we won’t argue about stuff, Harvey, but I love that you’re so competitive and have a passion for your job. I’m plenty communicative for us both, and will probably annoy you with it. I promise I won’t get angry if you forget my birthday, or our anniversary, because there’s a good chance twenty-five percent of the time, so will I because I’m too busy putting away jackasses from all walks of life into jail.”

Harvey gasped when long fingers gripped his hips, and though Harry did nothing but hold him, his heart sped up, the knot of unease unraveling.

“We can work on decreasing your alcohol intake, and your asshole is incredibly beautiful, so that’s just fine.”

Harvey heard the smile on Harry’s lips before he glanced up, a pleased flush darkening his cheeks.

“I can count all of my friends on one hand, so our future wedding will be on the small side, but that’s okay because then we can splurge on our honeymoon. I love to cook, and I’ll try my best to do so as much as I can for you. My wardrobe has one good suit, the one you picked me up in, so I’m glad one of us has a fashion sense. I haven’t spoken to my blood relations since they kicked me out when I was 16, so it’s wonderful you get along with your father, Harvey.”

His cock twitched in the boxers as Harry’s fingers drifted up along his sides, over his arms, and his chest to cup his face again.

They were having a serious relationship-defining conversation, and his dick decided to chub up like he was some hormone-riddled teenager. Harry smirked but made no mention of it; instead, his thumb brushed over Harvey’s lower lip.

“I know you can be selfish and arrogant, but you’re also kind and caring, though you don’t like to show it. You’re a brat at times, Harvey, there’s no denying that, but riling up and taming that part of you is also great fun. I won’t try to change you because I hate certain aspects of you, but because it’s this version of you that I fell in love with. You’re the one I want, the one I love, and if you decide to change as time goes on and our relationship evolves, then I’ll happily take that version of you as well.”

Harvey whimpered into the soft kiss pressing to his lips, hands clenching into the dark tee-shirt of Harry’s everyday work outfit, breath shaky in his chest.

“I’m scared,” The words tumbled from his parted lips before he could stop them, a vulnerability he never showed anyone, not even Donna, painted in his very pores.

Frightened of giving his heart away, terrified of how strong the emotions lashing against his ribcage were. He was scared about the prospect of finding happiness when he never expected to when every day his job showed him how rotten and vile people were.

His childhood showed and proved just how wretched trust and love could be.  

Harry paused in kissing him, green eyes somber with understanding and he pulled Harvey into a hug, one he returned, fingers digging into the leather jacket and his face tucked into Harry’s neck. He felt naked, as if he was stripped bare and left exposed to the elements just from those two words.

Harvey Specter didn’t get rattled. Nothing shook him. Not cases, not bullies dressed in Prada and Vuitton with their trust funds or degrees. He was like Superman, invulnerable to everything… except now he felt rather human in Harry’s arms.

“You don’t have to be afraid, not with me, Harvey.”

A muffled sound of assent came from his chest, and Harry smiled down at the attorney, hands lifting the stubble-lined jaw to peer into those brown eyes he had ached for to only look in his direction for months.

Brushing away the stray tear that managed to escape from Harvey’s stubbornness, Harry placed a butterfly kiss under the rebellious eye, Harvey’s nose scrunching from the action.

“Do you want to know when I realized I was in love with you?”

Harvey went still, eyes wide, and Harry took the chance to kiss him again, a smile on his lips at Harvey’s expectant but bashful countenance. Eager lips reciprocated every press of his lips, tongue brushing the pink lower lip before slipping into the parted cupid’s bow, and he drank the elixir of Harvey’s moan.

“When you broke the rules of our agreement, and you answered the door in that old grey cashmere and sweats. You looked so damn beautiful there like that, I choked a little ‘cause I swallowed wrong.”

Harry chuckled against his lips before he made a sound of surprise when Harvey resumed the kiss, greedy mouth deepening it before Harry could blink, and it was his turn to moan. Harvey pulled him closer, hands fisting the open jacket, then impatiently pushed it off Harry’s shoulders.

Harvey pulled, and Harry followed.

The stumble from the kitchen to the bedroom was nothing short of blurry, hands pulling and pushing at clothing, while trying not to leave the other person for too long a time.

Harvey tumbled back onto the soft mattress with a soft oof, breathing labored and cock tenting the boxers.

Harry dropped to his knees, mouth biting the soft flesh of a pale inner thigh until Harvey pushed at his head and pulled at his hair, a hiss spurring the detective on.

The hiss turned to a tumultuous groan when a warm tongue traced the curve of his erection, Harry’s mouth suckling on the boxer-covered tip until the material grew wet.

Fingers pulled the boxer shorts down as Harry’s tongue drew a wet line from Harvey’s pelvis to his chest, Harvey watching the entire show through blown brown eyes, pupils dilated and lips parting in wonder and anticipation as Harry grew closer.

“I love you, Harvey.”

The words seemed to sink into his skin, each murmured syllable expanding in his being until he felt full, so filled with love; some his own and the rest Harry’s. Choking on a broken sob, he nodded, tears catching on his lashes.

“I love you,” Harry murmured again, voice a low husky thing that drew Harvey deeper down.

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to for you to–”

Harvey hushed him with a kiss, and before Harry could take the lead again, he gently nibbled on the officer’s lip, fingers softly sweeping through the tapered hair.

“I love you too.”

Harry’s eyes widened at the confession, his gaze taking in the red flush of Harvey’s cheeks, felt how his fingers toyed with his shirt, and how his gaze darted between Harry’s and his lips.

Uncertain but hopeful.

Harry hid his face in the crook of Harvey’s neck, hand clenching the duvet in a tight fist.

“Fuck…”

The hand changed from the duvet to Harvey’s disheveled hair, the lawyer hissing at the grip but made no move to pull away; his hips tilting upward to rub his erection against the straining bulge hidden in the dark jeans.

Harvey shouted in surprise, a startled laugh of raw mirth when Harry bit his neck, chuckle tapering off into a moan that stopped then started anew when the cool conditioned air swept over his suddenly bare cock. Harvey’s sight was filled with Harry, the detective moving back down his body.

A warm mouth kissing his balls, along the shaft, and then—

“Fuck!” Harvey gasped, his curse loud in the quiet space, and he looked down between his legs where Harry’s hand pushed them wider and swallowed him deeper.

Harry’s mouth was hot, almost scalding around him, and Harvey’s hips moved on their own notion, shallow thrusts into the persuasive mouth that spoke no words but still managed to sway Harvey.

Spit dribbled down his balls to wet his hole that twitched with impatience, a spoiled thing that knew the shape, curvature, and girth of only Harry’s cock, and as if sensing it, Harry’s mouth popped off his cock to suck on his hole.

Harvey made a sound, low and guttural, the tendons of his neck bulging as he pressed his head further into the bed before curving his head up to try and see what he was feeling.

A tongue – fuck – prying him open without much fuss, and for every centimeter it slid in, Harvey uttered a new noise.

A fresh cry, another whimpering gasp as Harry held him in place and fucked him deeper with his tongue.

Clenching the wrinkled sheets, he tugged at them, hands fisted so tight the sheet pulled from the tucked, fitted corners.

Harry was a messy eater, loud slurping and louder when spitting saliva back into and onto Harvey’s hole, and he could do nothing but lie there and accept it. Took it like the good boy Harry whispered to him during the slow, but eye-rolling deep sex he gave Harvey at least once a week.

Harry withdrew his tongue, and before Harvey could protest, the detective shed his jacket, fingers deft in unbuckling the belt, and the sound of the zipper made Harvey physically ache. Harvey watched Harry lick his lips clean of him, face covered in spit, and pretty green eyes dark with a need so potent he shivered.

Harry didn’t need to instruct him, he kept his legs wide and open, breath stuttering in his chest when Harry shoved his pants and boxers down, and the curved behemoth sprang free. There were no words to be exchanged, no questions or snarky remarks, just the bulk of Harry’s body covering his own and the blunt tip kissing then sinking into him.

Harry groaned like a disturbed bear, and Harvey felt tears prickling at his eyes, the unshed droplets blurring his vision, and with two slanting jumps of his cock he was coming.

Harvey was sobbing before Harry rooted balls deep in him, and screamed when the officer pulled back and slammed his cock back in again.

He felt like he was drowning in this, drowning on dry land with how muffled everything seemed.

He gasped for air, and what little he managed to gulp down was quickly stolen by Harry’s mouth, the kiss as deep as the cock bulging his lower belly and as slow as the hips shoving it in.

Locking his legs around Harry’s waist, he wrapped his arms around the warm body of his now boyfriend, and the thrill of being able to call him that caused him to moan, a keening little thing that morphed into a cry.

Above him, Harry held Harvey close, one hand tucked under his head to grip the soft brown hair and the other gripping the mattress.

He cursed under his breath when Harvey clenched down around him again, the attorney crying through his second orgasm.

Amidst the drawn-out screams of pleasure, the bathroom door clicked open, and Harry watched as the woman Harvey called ‘Dana’ and ‘Scotty’ crept from the room fully clothed. Her face was bright red, having clearly heard them through the door, and as she made her way across the room, they made eye contact.

Scotty’s eyes widened, not expecting him to be looking, and she blanched when he made a point of increasing speed, Harvey vocalizing just how much he loved it. He needn’t say anything, not when she saw and heard enough to shatter whatever hope she might’ve had.

Scotty bit the inside of her lip, tears building in her eyes, and with a sound as if she was going to be sick, she ran the remainder of the way to the front door, heels clicking on the hardwood floors, and the door slamming behind her.

He didn’t give Harvey time to question the door.

He held him closer, fingers buried in the short, stylishly cut hair, and fucked him harder until all that could be heard in the fancy apartment was Harvey’s wails.