Magic & Mistletoe (9 page)

When he rolled over onto his side, he saw the half-empty bottle of lube on the floor next to a pile of tissues. Oh yeah, he remembered doing that too.

The sun looked far too bright for early morning, and when he checked the time, it wasn’t a surprise to see that it was ten thirty. Andrew was already at work. Harry yawned and stretched again, palming his morning wood and thinking about Andrew.

Last night had been unexpected but awesome, and Harry couldn’t wait for Sunday. He wanted to do it in the same room as Andrew next time, preferably with Andrew’s hand on his cock instead of his own.

He stroked himself a little harder, picturing it, and pushed up into his fist. The house was quiet, Jason usually did the parkrun on a Saturday morning, but he’d be back any time now, and knowing Jason, he’d be straight in to wake Harry up. Harry needed to be quick. Leaning over the side of the bed, he grabbed the lube and flicked off the lid, making sure not to spill it this time.

With his hand nice and slick, it didn’t take long at all before Harry was biting his lip and coming all over his belly. He barely had time to wipe himself off and collapse back onto his pillow before the front door opened and closed, and then Jason barged into his room.

“Get up, you lazy fucker.” Jason took two steps into the room, then froze, glancing down at the side of the bed where an impressive pile of tissues sat on the carpet. “Oh my God.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust and waved at the mess on Harry’s floor. “No need to ask what you’ve been up to this morning. I’m surprised there’s anything left of you.”

Harry huffed, long past being embarrassed in front of Jason. “It’s not all from this morning.” His phone still lay on the bed next to him, and he watched in amusement as Jason noticed it and then put two and two together.

He raised an eyebrow. “I take it things are going well with Andrew, then?”

“Yep.” Harry grinned at him.

Jason grinned back, laughing. “Nice one.” He gestured over his shoulder towards the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a quick shower, then cook breakfast, because I’m starving. Are you getting up?”

Harry yawned again and sat up. “Yeah. I’ll go put the kettle on and make a start.” Now that Jason mentioned food, he was hungry. “I’ll just clean this up first.” He nodded at the tissues on the floor.

Jason grimaced but didn’t comment. “Okay. I’ll be out in a sec.” With that, he headed to the bathroom not bothering to shut Harry’s door. The noise of the shower sounded down the hallway.

Before getting dressed, Harry grabbed his phone and typed a quick
“Morning”
to Andrew. He didn’t expect a reply straight away as Andrew was at work, so he slid his phone into his jeans pocket once he was dressed, and then he went to start on breakfast.

Saturday passed relatively uneventfully. Alex came down about one o’clock, and after they’d teased him about Abi, the three of them played video games for the rest of the afternoon. Harry fell asleep about five. He woke up to Jason prodding him in the arm with a finger.

“Pizza’s on its way, and you have a few texts from lover boy.”

Harry sat up quickly, regretting it immediately as a wave of light-headedness hit him. “Ugh.” He closed his eyes, rested his elbows on his knees, and breathed slowly until it passed. “What time is it?”

“Ten past seven.”

The doorbell buzzed and Jason went off to answer it, shouting as he walked away. “I told Alex and Lewis to be down here about eight thirty. That okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” The last thing Harry felt like doing was going out for more beer, but a shower and pizza should sort that out. His phone buzzed and he snatched it up, remembering what Jason had said about texts.

Sure enough, it was from Andrew, and he’d sent three others before it. Harry thumbed open the messages tab and started to read. The first one arrived at five forty.

Sorry, it’s been mad in here today, only just looked at my phone. How are you feeling?

He’d sent the next one about ten minutes after.
And I wanted to say last night was great. Thanks.

The next one came about a minute later, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he read it.

I meant for inviting me and Abi over, not just the phone sex. Although that was great too, but I just meant, oh fuck it, you know what I meant. Thanks for all of it.

The one he’d just sent read,
Have a good night tonight. Looking forward to Sunday.

Harry sat there smiling down at his phone with what he was sure was a goofy expression. Andrew texted like he was writing a letter, correct punctuation and everything. Harry heard Jason shut the front door, and he quickly typed out a reply.

Me 2. And I’m glad u and A came over last night. I really enjoyed it.

He left it at that, putting his phone away and taking one of the pizza boxes from Jason when he appeared in the living room.

They ate in silence, watching some crap on the TV, and then hurried to shower and change before the others arrived. Harry felt much better by the time they left for town, and when they reached the ground floor and he spied Andrew’s flat, he had the urge to go say hi.

Jason caught him looking and grabbed him in a headlock. “Come on. He’ll still be there tomorrow. He can soothe your brow when you’re feeling shitty and hung-over.”

“Fuck off.” No way was he getting that drunk tonight. He shrugged out of Jason’s grip, laughing when Jason tripped and almost face-planted into the door. “Sure you haven’t started without us?”

Jason stuck his middle finger up and opened the door, letting an icy blast of air into the entranceway. “Christ, that’s cold.”

Harry followed the three of them outside, zipping up his coat, tugging his beanie down over his ears, and wondering why the hell they were going out in this freezing weather.

That feeling lasted until he sank his second beer. With Christmas lights illuminating the streets and pubs filled with cheesy decorations and festive spirit, Harry soon forgot about being cold. And about not getting too drunk.

“Shhh.” Harry put his finger to his lips as he stumbled out of the taxi, grabbing onto the back of Jason’s coat to stop himself falling over. Glaring at Alex and Lewis where they stood watching him, he pointed at their building and whispered, “People are ’sleep.” He managed to stand upright and leaned on Jason’s shoulder. “Time’s it?”

Jason dropped his phone twice before holding it steady enough to check the time, making all four of them collapse with laughter. “Four something.”

That was late. Or early, depending on which way you looked at it. Harry needed to get to bed—he had big plans tomorrow. Or Today. Whatever. Plans that included Andrew.
Oh
, Andrew would be in bed now. Harry thought about that as Alex struggled to get the door open, and by the time they were inside, he’d decided it would be a good idea to go say hello.

Jason pulled him back by the collar of his coat as he headed down the hall towards Andrew’s door. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

“To see Andrew.” Harry twisted around to try to get Jason’s hand off him, but ended up making them both fall against the wall. “Shhh… you’ll wake him up.”

Jason frowned. “Pretty sure you knocking on his door’ll do that.” He hiccupped and then held his hand over his mouth as if he was about to be sick.

Harry pulled a face. No way was he cleaning that up. He glanced at Andrew’s door and then back at a very pale, clammy-looking Jason. Alex and Lewis were nowhere to be seen—
fuckers
—so it looked like it was up to him to get Jason upstairs before he puked.

With a resigned sigh, he turned away from Andrew’s door and pushed Jason towards the stairs.

They made it up to their floor and inside the flat without incident, but then Jason rushed to the bathroom with his hand still clamped firmly in place. Harry’s stomach roiled in sympathy as the sounds of Jason’s retching echoed off the bathroom walls.
Gross
. But at least there shouldn’t be anything to wipe up.

Harry walked into the kitchen and poured out two pints of water. He downed one in an effort to stave off his impending hangover. He’d probably need about ten pints of water for that to work, but then he’d be joining Jason over the toilet. When Jason appeared, looking marginally better, Harry handed him the other glass and told him to drink it.

After trying and failing to force down more water, they both decided to head to bed. Harry got his jeans and shirt off, but then he fell in a graceless heap on top of the covers. It took him far too long to coordinate getting the quilt out from underneath him.

Wow, he was so drunk.

Shit. Tomorrow is going to suck.

Morning came and went, and by the time Harry felt like leaving his bed, it was almost one o’clock. He’d woken up at eight and taken some headache tablets, so at least his head didn’t feel too bad. It wasn’t great, though, and when he sat up, he had to stay perfectly still for a few seconds until the nausea passed. What the fuck had he been thinking last night?

No way was he turning up at Andrew’s in this state. This called for drastic measures.

Jason’s door was firmly shut and Harry left him alone. He probably felt worse than Harry did. Harry trudged into the kitchen, pulling up short when he saw Jason sitting there, drinking coffee and looking far too chipper for someone who had thrown their guts up the night before.

“Morning.” Jason grinned as Harry winced. “Want me to make you a coffee?”

Harry slipped into the seat beside him and lay his head on the table, sighing at the feel of the cool surface. “I feel like shit. I’m going round to Andrew’s later. He’s cooking me a meal, and I won’t be able to eat any of it because I feel like throwing up.” He gingerly turned his head to face Jason and gave him his best pitiful expression. “Fix me.”

Jason sipped at his coffee before setting it down on the table and rubbing his hands together like an old-school villain. “I’ve got just the thing.”

“I hate you.” Harry collapsed back onto the grass and covered his face with his hands. “So, so much.” Jason’s cure for a hangover turned out to be a glass of Berocca, a banana, and a five-mile run.

Jason laughed as he sat down next to Harry and nudged his thigh. “You feel better, though, right?” Harry grumbled out a maybe, making Jason laugh again. “See.”

 Harry might feel better now, but he’d almost collapsed along the way and was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to get back up. He was a sweaty, disgusting mess. “I’m sure there are better ways to get rid of a hangover.”

Jason handed him a bottle of Lucozade Sport. “Drink this. I’ll make us a big greasy fry-up when we get back, and you’ll feel as right as rain by the time you go to Andrew’s.” When Harry had downed half of it, Jason took the bottle back from him and finished the rest himself. “When do you have to be there?”

“Eightish.”

“Shit, it’s half past three now. We’d better get a move on.” Jason stood, pulled Harry up after him, and headed back to their flat.

Jason’s ways might not have been pleasant, but they were effective. At seven fifty-five, Harry stood outside Andrew’s door, feeling almost human again. His hangover had gone completely, but he was tired. He knocked once, and almost as soon as He lowered his hand, Andrew opened the door, wearing tight black jeans and a green long-sleeved T-shirt. Harry was so glad he felt better, because Andrew looked hot and he wanted to get his hands all over that.

“Hey.” Andrew grinned at him.

Harry smiled back. “Hey.”

“Did any of you put that there, by any chance?” Andrew pointed up at the doorframe above their heads, where a sprig of mistletoe was stuck to the wood.

“I don’t think so.” Harry frowned and tried to think if anyone had mentioned anything about it. It could have been one of his friends, he supposed. He glanced up again, startling when the mistletoe seemed to move as if blown by an invisible wind. It sparkled in the light of the hall and then stilled. So, not one of his friends, then. Did Melia have eyes everywhere?

He felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, and he knew without a doubt who the message would be from. Instead of checking it, he looked back at Andrew to find him watching him with a curious expression.

They stood staring at each other until Andrew rolled his eyes and tugged Harry forward.

“Might as well make the most of it.” Andrew kissed Harry, probably intending it to be a quick peck on the lips, but Harry grabbed hold of Andrew’s hips and held him close, drawing the kiss out until they both pulled away, breathing heavily.

Andrew stepped back, taking Harry with him, and pushed the door shut behind him. “Don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

“Oh?” Harry glanced down at the front of Andrew’s jeans, which did absolutely nothing to hide the semi he was now sporting. “Yeah, we definitely don’t want that.”

He would have been embarrassed at how breathy his voice sounded, but Andrew backed him up against the wall and distracted him with kisses.

With one hand on Harry’s hip and the other fisted in his hair, Andrew pressed against him, his mouth hot and demanding.

Harry slipped his arms around Andrew’s back and then down until he had his hands full of Andrew’s arsecheeks. They were firm and round, and he gave them a squeeze, making Andrew laugh.

Andrew moved to trail kisses along Harry’s jaw and throat, and he worked a leg between Harry’s thighs, rubbing up along the bulge in Harry’s jeans.

“Oh God.” Harry closed his eyes for a second, and his head hit the wall behind him with a dull
thud
. He held Andrew close, shamelessly riding his thigh and moaning at the friction it created. Just as he debated whether it was bad form to come in his jeans five minutes into what was technically their first date, the timer on the oven beeped loudly, the sound echoing around the flat and making them jump.

“Shit.” Andrew rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, his breathy laughter blowing warm air over the side of Harry’s neck. “I guess dinner’s ready.”