Magic & Mistletoe (11 page)

Harry’s head snapped up from where he’d been looking down and a burst of breathy laughter escaped him. “All the better to wank you with.”

Andrew gaped at him, his hips stilling midroll. “You did not just say that.”

Harry grinned, rubbing his thumb over the head of Andrew’s cock, making him groan. “It was funny.” He leaned in and kissed him. “Now shush, and come already.”

Andrew closed his eyes and let Harry’s warmth and smell surround him—a heady mix of aftershave, clean sweat, and sex. He felt it in the base of his spine, spreading upwards and out as Harry kept up a steady rhythm. “Shit.” He gripped Harry’s arm, his fingers digging in as his orgasm rushed through him.

Harry tensed a few seconds later, and Andrew opened his eyes in time to see him pulse over his fingers, adding to the mess Andrew had already made.

They lay facing each other. Harry’s eyes dropped closed and he murmured, “I’m knackered now,” into the pillow.

“Yeah. Me too.” Andrew yawned suddenly, and Harry cursed as he did the same.

A comfortable silence settled around them, both content to lie there and doze. Andrew was warm and sleepy and he let his eyes shut, happy to listen to the soft huffs of Harry’s breathing. He could so easily drift off like this, but he had come on his belly, and so had Harry. They should probably clean themselves up….

Make that
Andrew
should probably clean up, because when he opened his eyes and sat up, he realised Harry had fallen asleep with his hand covered in jizz, still wrapped loosely around his dick. If Andrew could reach his phone, he would have taken a picture. Harry looked young and innocent in sleep—until you glanced down.

Careful not to wake him, Andrew shuffled back until he could get up. The bathroom was only across the hall, so it didn’t take him long to get there, clean himself up, and bring back a cloth so that he could sort Harry out.

Andrew stopped in the doorway of his bedroom, taken aback by the sight of Harry asleep in his bed. It felt different seeing it from afar. From this angle only the back of him was visible: broad shoulders tapering down to slightly hairy arsecheeks and strong-looking legs. All that pale skin almost glowed in the dim light from the hall. Harry looked at ease, settled as though it wasn’t unfamiliar surroundings—more like he belonged there. Of course, that might be because he was fast asleep, but Andrew ignored that small detail.

Harry looked good in his bed, and Andrew liked it.
Too soon
, his mind whispered,
it’s far too soon to be thinking things like that
. But it was nearly Christmas, and this time of year always made him hate being on his own a little bit more. Normally it didn’t bother him too much. He liked his independence and was quite capable of living by himself, but in the run-up to Christmas, more and more couples wandered into the store shopping together, laughing and happy, and after a while it started to get to him.

Andrew had decorated his flat to the nines. It looked great. Andrew loved nearly everything about this time of year, barring work, but it was ten months since his last relationship ended and he was sick and tired of waking up alone and coming home to an empty flat. The cheery lights blinking away in greeting seemed to make him feel ten times worse.

Harry stirred in his sleep and Andrew startled as Harry opened one eye.

“What’re you doing?” Harry mumbled.

Andrew held the towel up for him to see. “Cleaning you up, or trying to.”

Harry frowned, then smiled sleepily and rolled onto his back. “There.” He waved his come-covered hand in the vicinity of his cock. “Have at it.”

Andrew chuckled but caught Harry’s flailing hand before it landed, carefully wiping it clean before doing the rest of him. Harry mumbled his thanks as Andrew got up to take the towel back to the bathroom.

By the time Andrew got back to the bed, he was feeling pretty knackered himself. It took some doing to get the quilt out from underneath Harry, but Andrew managed it eventually and climbed in on the other side. He lay facing Harry, wondering if he’d be able to sleep with someone in his bed. Then Harry rolled over to face the other way, and it felt natural for Andrew to scoot up close behind him, sling an arm over his waist, and cuddle.

Harry was solid and warm, and Andrew closed his eyes within minutes. He fell asleep with a smile on his face, for the first time in a long while.

“Shit! What time is it?” Harry sat up in bed, disoriented. The blare of an alarm that definitely wasn’t his had woken him up seconds before—and it was still going. He glanced over to where the offending phone vibrated and chimed merrily on a table at the other side of the bed.

Where Andrew lay sleeping… or ignoring it.

Everything came back to him in a flash and Harry grinned. Oh yeah.
That happened
.

He basked in the feeling for two seconds before he remembered he had no idea what time it was and he had work today. Hopefully it wasn’t late enough that he should already be there. The alarm was starting to give him a headache, so he leaned over Andrew and grabbed for his phone. One swipe snoozed it, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the time: 7:45. Later than he usually got up for work, but not horrendously late. It’d be a close thing, though.

When Harry moved and accidentally elbowed Andrew in the kidney, he groaned. “Ow.” He rubbed at his eyes and blinked them open to see Harry looming over him. “What are you doing?”

Harry waved Andrew’s phone in front of his face. “Turning off your bloody alarm. How do you sleep through that thing?”

Andrew frowned. “I don’t, normally.” He yawned, which set Harry off, and it was a few more seconds before either of them could speak. “What time is it anyway? I don’t remember setting it last night.”

“It’s now ten to eight, and I really need to go or I’m gonna be late for work.” Harry sighed. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do when he had Andrew underneath him looking sleepy and warm with bed head and pillow creases on one side of his face. He leaned down and gave him a kiss instead.

Andrew kept his mouth tightly closed, refusing to open up when Harry licked at his bottom lip.

“I don’t care about your morning breath, for fuck’s sake. Just give me a kiss.” Harry leaned in again, slowly this time, seeing if Andrew would give in, but his mouth remained closed. There was only one thing for it. Harry dug his fingers between Andrew’s ribs, making him laugh loudly, and took advantage of his parted lips by diving in for the kiss.

After a second’s hesitation, Andrew kissed him back, tongues and all, winding his arms around Harry to keep him close. He pulled on Harry’s shoulders until he got the message and stretched out on top of him.

They both sported morning wood—not fully hard, but close enough—and Harry couldn’t resist rolling his hips. It turned out to be a huge mistake on his part—Andrew pushed up to meet him, rubbing their erections together, and all that warm, naked skin caused the most delicious friction. Getting out of bed now was going to be torture.

“What time do you have to be in?” Andrew whispered, sliding his hands down Harry’s back and cupping his arse.

Harry rested his head on Andrew’s shoulder, his breath hitching as Andrew’s grip tightened and his fingers slipped between Harry’s cheeks. “Nine.”

“Me too.” Andrew rutted against him as he spoke, showing no signs of stopping. “Can you be quick?”

“Yeah. Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem.”

“Good.” Harry felt Andrew’s grin against his ear and could hear it when he said, “Race you.” The room filled with soft grunts and moans as they chased their orgasms.

They were both late for work.

Harry’s job as a software test engineer meant he didn’t suffer the same Christmas rush as Andrew did. The closer they got to the twenty-fourth, the more laid-back the office became. Judging from the infrequent and short texts Andrew sent him throughout the week, Andrew’s job was the total opposite. Harry had never been happier that he didn’t work in retail.

He walked into his flat on Thursday night to find Jason rushing around in a panic. “What’s wrong with you?”

Jason stopped in the hallway, his face flushed. “I can’t find my bloody wallet anywhere, and I’m supposed to be meeting Karen up at Cribbs in—” He checked his watch. “—twenty minutes.”

“Late-night shopping?” Harry sympathised. There was nothing he’d enjoy less after being at work all day.

“Sort of.” He rifled through the coats hung up on the rack, checking the pockets of all of them, even Harry’s. “She promised me Pizza Hut afterwards, so it’s not all bad.” He stood with his hands on his hips after coming up empty-handed. “I had it this morning, and I’m sure I didn’t leave it at work. Where the fuck can it be?”

Harry unwound his scarf, hung his coat up, and kicked off his shoes. “Right. Where did you have it last?”

Jason glared at him one eyebrow raised. “If I knew that, then it wouldn’t be bloody lost!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Harry held up his hands in surrender—it was a stupid question. Clearly he was still more than capable of saying the wrong thing. “Okay, let me rephrase. When do you remember having it last?”

Jason sighed but didn’t snap this time. “I had it at lunch, for definite. But after that….” He shrugged. “God, she’s gonna kill me.”

“Come on, it’s got to be here somewhere if you’re sure you didn’t leave it at work.” He walked into the living room and sat down, with Jason trudging in behind him. Jason had on jeans, a T-shirt, and his Fred Perry coat—he wouldn’t have gone to work like that, though. “What did you wear for work?”

Jason frowned in confusion. “What I normally wear. My grey trousers and a shirt.”

“And that coat?” Harry nodded at the one Jason had on.

“No, I took my big wool one because it was bloody freezing this morning. I can’t drive in it, so I left it in the car.” Jason slapped himself on the forehead and groaned. “Of fucking course—it’s in the bloody pocket. Thanks mate.” He jumped up and ruffled Harry’s hair as he rushed past. “Text me if you’re having Andrew over, and I’ll stay at Karen’s tonight. We’re both off tomorrow, so it’s fine.” He didn’t wait for Harry’s answer. The front door closed, leaving Harry sitting on the sofa mulling over Jason’s words.

Harry hadn’t planned on seeing Andrew tonight. They had met on Tuesday for a drink at the pub and then again on Wednesday for coffee. Andrew was knackered from work, so they’d gone to their respective homes after. Consequently, since Monday morning they’d shared a few heated kisses but nothing else. Which was totally fine. Harry enjoyed getting to know Andrew more, except that now Jason had put the idea in his head, Harry wanted to invite Andrew round and maybe cook for him. Or order a nice takeaway, which was more likely.

He pulled out his phone and sent Andrew a text asking if he fancied coming round later. Andrew was at work until eight tonight, so he still had another hour and twenty minutes to go. Surprisingly the reply came back almost straight away.

God, today’s been so shit. Had to work through lunch so I’m bloody starving, but means I can leave earlier. If you promise to feed me, I’d love to come round when I’m done.

Harry smiled as he read it. The words made him all warm inside. He texted back.

I can’t promise home-cooked food, but I can order a mean takeaway. Chinese ok?

The second reply took a little longer to come through, and Harry wandered into the kitchen to put the kettle on while he waited. He had a cursory glance around the flat as he went—it was sort of tidy. His sheets probably needed changing; he couldn’t remember the last time he had put clean ones on the bed. Was that being presumptuous or hopeful? He was going with hopeful, and also fresh linen was way past due—two birds with one stone.

Tea made, he leaned against the counter and texted Jason to let him know Andrew was coming round. He got a thumbs-up icon in return and was just setting his phone down when another text came through, this time from Andrew.

Chinese sounds perfect. No fish though, I just like meat.

Harry debated whether to take the opening Andrew had just given him. Oh, fuck it. Andrew should know what he was letting himself in for.

Yeah, I kinda got that impression Sunday night and Monday morning.

Another pause, and Harry wondered if Andrew was laughing with him or rolling his eyes and regretting everything. When Andrew’s reply eventually came back, Harry was just taking a sip of his tea and he coughed, almost spitting it back out.

I’ll look forward to eating it later.
He followed up with,
Leaving in five minutes. Order now and I should be back for when it gets there.

Harry stared at his phone reading the last two messages again and got a little hard. Andrew meant blow jobs, right? He was definitely changing his sheets now.

Thirty minutes later Andrew knocked on his door. Of course, Harry pointed at the mistletoe still hanging above them and insisted it was tradition, so kissing was required.

Andrew heaved a put-upon sigh. “If I must.” Then he grabbed Harry by the shoulders and kissed him as if his life depended on it.

It was a shame they couldn’t keep the mistletoe up there all year round. Harry could get used to being greeted like this.

“Food’s not here yet,” Harry whispered, kissing along Andrew’s jaw, then pulling him inside the flat.

Andrew stepped back to take off his coat and his shoes. “Oh?” He smirked and gave Harry a filthy look, dragging his gaze down the length of Harry’s body and back up again. “How long have we got?”

Harry licked his lips, wondering if this was going where he thought it was—hoped it was. “About thirty minutes.” His mind flashed back to Andrew’s earlier text and he reached down and palmed his cock without thinking.

“
Fuck
.” Andrew’s gaze dipped lower.

Harry suddenly realised what he was doing and dropped his hand as heat crept over his cheeks.

Andrew stepped forward and placed a hand where Harry’s had just been, rubbing up and down Harry’s growing erection. “Plenty of time, then.”