🦁

Harvey Specter had a lot of things on his mind, but for the past few months, you had been one of the things that he couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t just your sarcastic remarks or the way you both kept the banter sharp—it was the way he couldn’t help but notice how his heart skipped a beat when you were near. And he hated himself for it.

You had never shown any signs of wanting to take things further, so he kept it light. Teasing touches, playful flirtation, just enough to keep things interesting without ever crossing that line. He didn’t want to risk ruining the one thing he knew was perfect—this thing between you that wasn’t defined, but was always there.

But then you sent him that damn text.

It was simple, cryptic, and the kind of message that left him staring at his phone for a few minutes, trying to read between the lines. What did it mean? What the hell were you really trying to say?

And just like that, Harvey was on a mission. Not to win a case this time, but to track you down. To find out what the hell you were playing at. He was ready to chase you down, through every street in New York if he had to, until you gave him answers.

But he quickly realized that the chase might not be about the message at all. Maybe it was about figuring out how much he was willing to risk to turn all this playful tension into something real.

And you? You’d never been one to give him easy answers. So, when he showed up at your door, half-drunk, eyes burning with curiosity, and the same cocky smile he always wore, he knew he’d finally found something he wanted more than just a game.

You were just about to shut off the lights and call it a night when the sudden, unmistakable sound of knocking echoed through your apartment. It was fast, almost urgent, but somehow still carrying that familiar, cocky rhythm.

You opened the door without hesitation, and there he was—Harvey Specter, looking disheveled, a little off-kilter. His usually pristine suit was slightly wrinkled, his tie a bit too loose, and his perfectly styled hair was a mess. He was standing there in the hallway, eyes burning with a mix of frustration and something else—a raw, unspoken desire that you hadn’t seen in him before.

"Harvey?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the shock in your voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze was locked on you, scanning every inch of your face as if trying to figure out what you were really thinking. And just as you were about to ask again, his lips quirked into that damn smirk of his, though there was an edge to it that felt different tonight.

"I got your message," he finally said, voice low, the words slurring just slightly. "You know, the one that made me lose my damn mind for the past two hours trying to figure out what it meant."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe, keeping your composure even as your heart picked up its pace. "So you came all the way here just to ask about a text?"

He took a step closer, his presence filling the space between you. "I came here because I need to know," he said, his voice dropping, soft and dangerous. "And you’re gonna tell me."

A shiver ran down your spine as he reached up, brushing his thumb along the edge of your jaw. His touch was light, tentative, like he was testing the waters—but you both knew it was more than that. You could feel the electricity between you, the pull that neither of you could ignore anymore.

"And if I don’t?" you challenged, tilting your head slightly, just enough to test his resolve.

"Then I guess I’ll just have to figure it out the hard way," Harvey muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took another step forward. The space between you was almost nonexistent now, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was dangerously close, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart was pounding, but you held your ground. "What’s the hard way, Harvey?"

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and in the silence that followed, you both knew exactly what was about to happen.

Harvey took the final step, closing the distance, and in one swift motion, he kissed you—hard, demanding, a kiss that sent a jolt through your entire body. It wasn’t a question anymore. He wasn’t asking for permission, wasn’t waiting for a response. It was the culmination of all the tension, all the unspoken things hanging between you two, crashing down in that single, heated kiss.

When he pulled back, both of you were breathless, his hands still lingering on your shoulders, his thumb gently tracing the edge of your collarbone. His voice was rough when he spoke again.

"So, tell me. Was that the answer you were looking for?"

You couldn’t help but smirk, even as your pulse raced. "Maybe it was the answer I needed."

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning in again, but this time it wasn’t about pressing for answers—it was about something else entirely. You both knew it. And neither of you were willing to back down.

Harvey’s lips lingered just inches from yours, his breath a tantalizing mix of whiskey and something darker. His eyes were locked on yours, smoldering, like he was waiting for something—waiting for you to say something, to make the next move. But you didn’t speak. You let the silence stretch between you, charged with a thousand unspoken words.

He groaned low in his throat, his hands sliding down your arms, pulling you even closer. The space between you felt like it didn’t exist anymore, like your bodies were magnetized, drawn together by something neither of you could control. His lips brushed against your neck, the faintest of touches, but it was enough to make your skin erupt in goosebumps.

"I’m done guessing," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough. "Done wondering if you feel it too." His hands slid to the back of your neck, tilting your head back slightly, exposing the soft line of your throat. "I need to know. Right now."

You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you tilted your chin up, just enough to meet his eyes again. The question was there, hanging between you two, in the tension, the way you were both breathing a little too fast. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened further.

“I’m not asking for permission anymore, you know,” he continued, his fingers trailing up your back, the touch almost burning. “I’m just gonna take what I want.”

His lips crashed back to yours, more desperate this time, the heat between you building in a way that felt like it was about to explode. There was no more teasing, no more waiting. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, feeling his heartbeat pulse in time with yours.

His body pressed into yours, and you felt the unmistakable heat of his desire. Your breath was ragged now, mixing with his as your mouths moved together, kissing and tasting, pushing and pulling. You couldn’t get enough of him. It was as if everything else had faded away, and there was nothing left but the two of you—locked in a kiss that was messy and hungry, but oh so needed.

When he finally pulled away, just enough to catch his breath, his lips were wet and swollen, his expression a mix of frustration and something deeper—something more vulnerable.

“You still haven’t told me what that text meant,” he said, voice hoarse.

You smirked, running your thumb along his bottom lip, feeling the faint trace of a smile tugging at the corners of your own mouth. “Maybe you’ll figure it out,” you whispered, a challenge in your voice, “if you stick around long enough.”

Harvey’s eyes darkened even more, his hands moving down to your waist, gripping you like he was never letting go. “I plan to.”

With that, he pulled you back into a kiss, more demanding this time, his hands exploring the curves of your body as if he was marking you, claiming you in a way that felt irrevocable.

And you didn’t stop him.

The kiss didn’t stop. It was the kind of kiss that pulled you under, like a tidal wave crashing over you both. Every second felt like it was stretching out into eternity, but in the best way possible. The heat was intense, almost scorching, as if neither of you could get close enough, couldn’t touch enough. You wanted more, he wanted more—your hands were tangled in each other’s clothes, fumbling, eager, desperate.

Harvey’s lips left yours only for a split second, but his mouth was everywhere else: your neck, your jaw, the sensitive skin beneath your ear. The sounds between you two were raw—breaths, murmurs, the heat of your bodies pressing against each other. You felt him against you, hard and unyielding, a physical reminder of the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

And then, just like that, the world outside your apartment ceased to exist. All that mattered was the way his hands were tracing the curve of your back, the way your body was reacting to every touch, every movement. The taste of him lingered on your lips, intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough.

Harvey pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his pupils blown wide, face flushed with the aftermath of the kiss. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling beneath you. His hands slid down to your hips, squeezing just hard enough to leave a mark, a reminder that this—whatever this was—wasn’t going to be easy to forget.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, voice thick with desire, but there was an edge of something else. Maybe it was the vulnerability that crept in when he let his guard down, even for a moment. “The kind of trouble that makes me want to do it all over again.”

You smirked, knowing exactly how to push him. “Maybe that’s the point, Harvey. You wanted answers. But I think you’ll have to work a little harder for them.”

He raised an eyebrow, but the smirk on his face told you he was up for the challenge. “Don’t tempt me.”

You figured that it had something to do with the fact that Valentine’s day was coming up and the two of you were so early into your relationship, that you weren’t exactly sure how to celebrate. You knew that Spencer became acutely stressed while under pressure, but there was something different about this time. 

Rather than confiding in you about what was troubling him, he was avoiding you at all costs. It started when you and Spencer went to the store to pick out Valentine’s decor and the clerk asked how you two were going to spend Valentines. You looked at each other, waiting for the other to respond and that was when you were met with the awkward realization that neither of you knew how you were spending the holiday. Spencer’s job didn’t exactly allow you to make plans that far into the future and the short duration of your relationship didn’t help either, so you lied to the clerk out of embarrassment and told her you guys were just friends, which was most certainly the wrong move on your part, but it was definitely easier than saying, “Oh yeah, we’re gonna go out to eat and then come back and have rough sex.” Like what was she expecting for an answer anyway? 

The lie seemed to touch a nerve with Spencer. He didn’t vocalize being bothered by the false statement that you were just friends, but you apologized to him anyway. 

“I’m sorry, Spence. I just didn’t know what else to say.” 

You thought he accepted your apology, but since then, it’s like he’s been at an arm’s length. He never drops by your apartment anymore, he rarely texts and when he does it’s lackluster, and worst of all, you two never got around to making Valentine’s day plans - which was the cause of this fight to begin with. If you thought it was embarrassing not knowing what you and your boyfriend were going to do for Valentines, just imagine how embarrassing it would be spending it alone even though you did have a boyfriend. 

Tomorrow was Valentines and Spencer was away on a case still, so you two were on the phone talking. 

“Hey, I just wanna say I’m sorry again for lying about just being friends.” 

He was silent for a minute. “I get why you did it … but is that how you see us? As just friends?”

You had to object. “Not at all. I like you as so much more than a friend.” Yeah, that part was weird, too. Before when you were friends, you used to tell each other “I love you” all the time, but now, you never used it. Suddenly, “like” was the only word in your vocabulary. 

“You’re …  you’re not ashamed of me right?” 

You jumped up from your seat. “No, of course not! I’m so proud to be your girlfriend. I’ll shout it from the rooftops if I have to.” You joked, he chuckled on the other side. 

“We’ve, um, we’ve never kissed.” He blurted out of the blue. Was that what was troubling him all along? That you guys never kissed? And because of your ‘just friends’ comment, his faith in you was shaken?

You weren’t sure how to respond so you simply agreed. “No, we haven’t.” 

“Is that weird? That we’ve never kissed?” Spencer’s voice was wavering. It made you frown just thinking about how nervous he was to ask you this. What could you say that would make it better?

“Not weird at all. One time, this really smart guy once told me that kissing is safer than shaking hands, and when you and I hold hands, it’s like shaking hands for a prolonged period of time. So in a way, holding hands is like a greater sign of affection because it’s risky and dangerous, but you do it for me anyway. That totally trumps kissing.” You could just feel him smiling on the other end of the phone.

“But if I were to kiss you … would that be okay?” 

You grinned from ear to ear like a complete idiot hearing him say this. “Mhm. That’d be okay.” You tried not to sound too geeked out over his question, but you couldn’t help it. The prospect of kissing Spencer was exciting to you. It felt like you had butterflies in your stomach from the unbridled joy he brought you. 

“I know it’s 11 o’clock there so I’ll let you go now so you can sleep.” He explained. 

You happily sighed. “Okay, don’t stay up too late. Try to get some rest when you can and I’ll text you when I wake up. Goodnight, Spencer.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You hung up and placed your phone on the nightstand. You went to sleep smiling that night. 

It was pitch black when you opened your eyes after being disturbed by the sound of knocking. You thought it might be coming from the front door, but it sounded much closer than that. Like it was coming from outside your room. You sat up slowly so as not to make any sudden movements, and then you surveyed the room. That’s when you noticed a silhouette of a man knocking on your window. You almost screamed out of fear, but there was something so familiar about the shadow. Spencer?

You bolted to the window, pushing the curtains to the side, revealing Spencer who was backlit by the headlights of an SUV full of other people. You laughed slightly opening the window. 

“What are you doing here?” You looked back to eye the digital clock on your nightstand. 

11:59. 

“I wanted to surprise you. I called you when I was on the jet.” He explained breathlessly. Did he run here from the jet or something? “Why are you standing outside my window?” You laughed, noticing that he was tiptoeing on the gravel so you two could be at equal height.

You folded your arms on the window sill and leaned forward toward him as you waited for an answer. 

“You told me earlier that you thought holding hands was a greater sign of affection than kissing because it was risky and dangerous,” You nodded along. “So I kept thinking what would be more dangerous than that?” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“I never snuck out to a girl’s house before, especially not with the intention of kissing her. This is risky for me.” He playfully pointed out. You laughed. “And in traditional fairy tales, the prince will often-”

“KISS HER, YOU FOOL!” An onlooker from the SUV yelled. 

That’s when Spencer lowered his inhibitions and cupped your face and pulled you close to him to kiss. At first it was one small kiss, and you pulled away for an instant, but then practically devoured each other in the next. Spencer’s hands were tangled in your hair as he kissed you passionately. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, making things feel funny since your teeth hit his lips. The two of you shared a small laugh about it, because somehow you’d managed to even make kissing weird and unique and odd.  

Claps and cheers erupted from the car in the driveway, making the two of you smile. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He whispered. You looked behind you. 

12:00. 

“Happy Valentine’s.” You pulled him into a hug and he did his best he could to hug you back despite the wall separating your lower bodies. 

“Now go! I don’t want my parents waking up and seeing you.” You sarcastically remarked, pretending like your parents were around to catch you two in the act even though you lived by yourself. 

He beamed and walked away backwards so he could look at you for as long as he could, before he had to get back in the car. 

You looked like a princess in a tower with your head perched on your hand like that. 

He gave one last wave, before hopping into the backseat. 

The driver flashed the headlights once to signal “Goodbye” and you waved to the car ergo waving to the people behind the tinted glass in the dark that you could see. 

“Happy Valentines, Spencer.”