Magic & Mistletoe (16 page)

“Fine. He thinks I’m someone I’m not because of your magic.”

She closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. “My magic didn’t change the person you are. I just helped you to stop and think so you could say what you wanted without your nerves getting in the way. They were still your thoughts and your words.”

“Yes, but—”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand, the words dying on his tongue. “I wasn’t finished. I stopped helping you days ago. You were doing fine on your own, so I just watched because you two are so cute together and I couldn’t resist.”

Harry’s mind stuck on the first part of that sentence. “When exactly did you stop?”

“Sunday, when you had your first date. The mistletoe above Andrew’s door was me, obviously, and the cooker was me too, and, um, maybe a couple of other little things. Oh, and I did add that bunch above your table just now because you looked so adorable with your flushed faces and happy smiles. But the actual spell to make you stop and think before you spoke? That only lasted a week. The rest was all you.”

“That night was over a week ago.”

“Yes! Like I said, you’ve been doing fine on your own. You just needed to get comfortable with him, and then it was all plain sailing.”

“Huh.” Harry bit his lip as he processed this new information. Now that he stopped and thought about it, maybe he had overreacted just a tad. He’d let his insecurities get the better of him instead and had only succeeded in making a complete arse of himself. His cheeks flushed as embarrassment set in. “Sorry for… you know.” He wasn’t quite sure how to say “sorry for accusing you of mind control and ruining my love life forever.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She cocked her head to the side and frowned. “But you had better get back in there because all our hard work is about to be for nothing. Andrew’s freaking out a little. You’ve been gone too long.”

“Shit.” Harry looked down at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed. He rushed towards the door, halting just before he pulled it open. “Why are you doing this? Helping me, I mean.”

It hadn’t occurred to him before now, but surely she had better things to be doing than fixing him up with the guy he fancied.

She smiled, and her whole body glowed. Harry hoped no one was looking.

“Because I can. I don’t get to make people happy as much as I used to, Harry. I can only do it if they come to my part of the wood, and sadly that doesn’t happen often. So please, go find Andrew and have a happy, love-filled Christmas.”

She was gone in an instant, disappearing into thin air as he watched.

He stood there for a second, dazed, until he remembered that Andrew probably thought he’d done a runner.
Bugger
.

He pushed his way through the pub, which was now a lot busier, and tried not to snap as people continually got in his way. It took an agonisingly long time to get to their table, and when he did, he thought he was seeing things because
oh my God
that was Melia talking to Andrew.

“Hi.” He hoped it didn’t sound as strangled as it felt coming out.

Melia turned to face him, smiling wide as she hooked her arm through Andrew’s. “I found him, just as hot and adorable as you described.”

Andrew blushed and Melia cooed at him. It was like an alternate universe. Harry was tempted to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

She patted Andrew’s arm. “Sorry for keeping him chatting so long, but it’s been an age since we saw each other.”

Andrew smiled at her. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Well, it was great seeing you again, Harry.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a hug. “I thought he was about to leave, so I stepped in,” she whispered, then let go. “Nice to meet you too, Andrew.” With a smile and a wave, she was gone.

“Wow. She was strange, but nice.”

Harry snorted. “You have no idea.”

“I was just coming to look for you when she came over. I thought you’d ditched me. You practically ran from the table and then you were gone ages. I was about to get up, but then Melia came over and said she’d waylaid you on the way to the loos. Did you tell her to come find me?”

“Um… yes.”

“Why didn’t you just send me a text?”

Harry faltered, racking his brain for an answer. “I didn’t think.” Andrew looked like he thought that was a shitty answer, which it was, so he distracted him by saying, “Look, can we just forget about this and finish our drinks?”

“Yeah, okay.” Andrew gestured at the stool beside him for Harry to sit down. “As long as you explain to me sometime how you know Melia. Something tells me it’s an interesting story.”

Harry struggled to swallow his mouthful of beer. “Okay. Later, though.”
A lot later
. Maybe when they were old and grey. “Do you want another?” He pointed at Andrew’s glass.

“Yeah, just one. I thought we could head back to mine after.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost ten.”

Harry nodded and got up to get two more beers. Going back to Andrew’s sounded very appealing. He’d had enough excitement tonight. Not that whatever they got up to in Andrew’s flat wouldn’t be exciting, but it would be the fun kind, not the scare-Harry-to-death kind.

He glanced out the pub windows as he waited at the bar for their drinks. The sky was still clear, with only a smattering of cloud cover. It didn’t look as though Andrew would get his white Christmas.
Hmm… but maybe
….

True to form, his phone buzzed and he quickly slid it out of his pocket.

Tell him how you feel and I’ll make it snow.

It’s too soon for that
, he typed back, wondering briefly where his messages went. Surely she didn’t have a phone?

Or maybe she did, who knew?

Is there ever a bad time to hear someone loves you?

Yes. I might send him running for the hills
!

Harry paid for the drinks when the barman handed them over. He could almost hear the eye-roll when Melia replied with
Trust me when I say he feels the same as you. Now go tell him.

Harry grinned. He couldn’t help it. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and picked up their drinks.

“Are you ready?” Andrew put his empty glass down and reached for his scarf.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Bundled up against the inevitable cold, Harry followed Andrew out of the pub. Andrew stopped to pull his collar up, and stumbled into Harry.

“We didn’t have that many, did we?” He straightened but grabbed hold of Harry’s hand.

“Um… three, maybe four? I feel a little drunk but not too bad. Must be the cold air.”

“Must be.” Andrew sighed as he glanced up at the sky. “Why doesn’t it ever snow at Christmas anymore? I’m sure we used to have loads of it when I was young.” He sounded wistful, and maybe it was the beer making him feel that way, but Harry wanted to make him happy again.

“Hey.” He pulled Andrew close and kissed him. “I really like you, you know.”

Andrew’s face lit up and he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. “That’s good, because I really like you too.” Something wet landed on Harry’s nose and Andrew looked up, laughing. “Fuck me, it’s snowing.”

Andrew tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and caught some of the flakes on his tongue. It wasn’t heavy enough to settle, but it was snowing, and Andrew laughed as snowflakes landed on his lips and stuck in his eyelashes.

Harry had his phone out almost before it vibrated with a new text.

That’s all you get for that half-arsed declaration.

Whatever.
Andrew was happy; he’d take it.

They walked home in silence until Andrew tugged on Harry’s hand and pointed to where the streetlights illuminated the falling snow. “Snow makes everything more Christmassy, don’t you think?” He bumped Harry’s shoulder when Harry laughed at him. “I’m serious. Snow has a magical quality to it.”

“It certainly does.” Harry imagined Melia sporting a smug grin wherever she was.

They tumbled into Andrew’s flat, leaving all the lights off except those on the Christmas tree. His living room was warm and inviting, especially when he lit the gas fire. The soft glow from the Christmas lights added to the magical feel. Harry had given up wondering what was Melia’s doing and what wasn’t. As long as what they felt for each other was real, he figured it didn’t really matter about the rest.

Andrew poured them both a whisky, and they settled down on the sofa, Harry with his arm around Andrew’s shoulders.

“This has been the best Christmas Eve I’ve had in ages. Thank you.” Harry offered his glass to Andrew, and Andrew clinked his against it.

“Me too.”

The burn of the whisky warmed him inside, and Harry felt pleasantly mellow but not drunk. He put his empty glass on the floor and then did the same with Andrew’s. “Come here.” He tugged on Andrew’s hand until Andrew shifted position and crawled into his lap. “Better.”

Trading lazy kisses in between, they slowly shed their clothes until they were both naked, with Andrew straddling Harry’s thighs again. Andrew gazed down at him, his dark eyes almost black in the dim light, and Harry’s chest tightened at the intensity of his expression. He didn’t think anyone had ever looked at him that way. It felt incredible.

“I love you.” Harry hadn’t planned to say it—the words just popped into his head. They felt right now they were out there. Maybe this time, speaking without thinking wasn’t a bad thing.

Andrew put a hand on Harry’s jaw and tilted his head up. “Is that the whisky talking?”

“It might’ve helped me say it without worrying I’ll scare you off, but I meant it.”

“Well, in that case….” Andrew leaned in, kissed him softly, and then whispered against his mouth, “I love you too.”

Andrew climbed off Harry’s lap and held out his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”

Harry let Andrew lead him into the bedroom, shamelessly watching Andrew’s arse as he walked behind him. When they reached the bed, they pushed the quilt out of the way and climbed in. Harry lay on his back and opened his legs for Andrew to fit between them.

Andrew licked his lips and then hummed in approval. “You taste of whisky.”

Harry grinned up at him. “Not everywhere.”

“As much as I’d like to suck your cock”—he rolled his hips and Harry groaned—“I’d like to fuck you, if you’re up for it.” He ducked in for another kiss, pressing against Harry from chest to thigh, and yeah Harry was definitely up for it. Both of them were hard and leaking precome.

“Yeah.”

Andrew reached over to his bedside table to get lube and a condom, and tossed them onto the bed.

Harry cursed loudly as Andrew opened him up with slow careful fingers, refusing to rush.

“Stop complaining,” Andrew whispered, pulling his fingers almost all the way out and teasing Harry’s rim. “I like this bit.”

“I like it too, but I like what comes next even more, so come the fuck on.”

Finally, Andrew stopped long enough to sit back and roll on the condom, then pushed his dick inside Harry, not stopping until his hips were flush against Harry’s arse. Resting his forehead against Harry’s, he waited until Harry nodded and whispered, “Fuck me.”

Then Andrew started to move, a steady thrust of his hips drawing moans out of Harry each time he bottomed out. Harry hooked his ankles around Andrew’s thighs, urging him to do it harder and faster, until they were both sweating and clinging to each other.

“I’m gonna come.” Andrew leaned back to meet Harry’s gaze. “Can you?”

Harry didn’t bother answering. Instead he worked a hand between them and wrapped it around his cock. He was closer to coming than he thought, and a few firm strokes later, he coated his belly and fingers.

Andrew’s breathy laughter sounded loud in the quiet of the bedroom. “I guess that answers my question.” A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face as he pulled out and pushed back in over and over, until finally his rhythm faltered and he stilled, eyes screwed shut as he came. “Oh God.” He collapsed on top of Harry, letting him take all his weight. “I think I’m dead.”

“Well, don’t die here. I’d hate to have to explain this to the police.”

Andrew laughed again, making them both wince. “Fine, I’ll move if I must.” Holding the bottom of the condom, he carefully pulled out and rolled onto his back.

Harry lay next to him and closed his eyes for a second, basking in the afterglow and not wanting to move, ever. He felt the bed shift as Andrew got up and vaguely registered the tap turning on and off.

The next thing he knew, Andrew was wiping him down with a damp towel. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Andrew kissed him, lingering a little before taking the towel back into the bathroom. When he climbed back into bed, he pulled the covers up over them and wrapped an arm around Harry’s belly, manhandling him until Harry was on his side and Andrew spooned behind him.

He had his face tucked into the back of Harry’s neck, and Harry had to strain to hear him when he spoke.

“I know I already asked you this, but what you said before… it wasn’t the drink talking, was it?”

Harry might have been dozing off, but he was wide awake now. He placed his hand over Andrew’s. “No. It wasn’t the drink. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I do love you. I’m gonna keep saying it every day, every week until you believe me.”

 Harry felt Andrew grin, and he smiled into his pillow.

“That’s definitely the alcohol talking.” Andrew spread his fingers and laced them with Harry’s. “I believe you, but I won’t mind if you insist on reminding me.”

“Good.” Harry closed his eyes again and felt sleep pulling at him once more.

Just before he drifted off, he heard Andrew whisper, “I love you too.”

Harry woke in the morning to Andrew drawing back the curtains and exclaiming, “Oh my God! Harry, come and look at this.”

He sounded far too excited, until Harry remembered it was Christmas morning. Still, unless Santa was real after all, it didn’t explain Andrew’s high-pitched voice.

“’Tis it?” Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“Just get over here already.” Andrew came over to the bed and pulled the quilt back, letting all the cold air in.