Special thanks to wtchcool for the reviews and the grammar help. I tried to correct all the mistakes. I hope it's better now! ^_^ Thanks again for reading!

And thanks to everyone else who is reading!

A/N: Last chapter. Explicit sexual content. This is why this story is rated M, so read at your own risk.

Chapter Twelve

What in Merlin's name am I doing!? This thought came to Harry about a second too late as he kissed Marcone back. He knew he should stop this right here, but for some reason couldn't find the will to pull away from Marcone.

The kiss deepened and all coherent thoughts started to leave Harry. Marcone was a dominant and solid force, guiding him back onto the bed with the gentleness of an old, caring friend. Harry felt a moment of fear as he lay out on the bed, Marcone's hand slowly creeping under his shirt. Did he really want this? What exactly were his feelings toward the other man? A moment ago he was sure they were enemies and then he finally convinced himself that they were old friends and now, what? They were lovers? Somehow things seemed to move at a super fast rate with them two.

Harry felt nervous and jittery. He was starting to feel his fight or flight instincts wanting to take over. But then Marcone was looking deep into his eyes, his hand rubbing soothing circles on his stomach. He knew that Harry felt uncomfortable and the last thing he wanted was to scare the other man away.

Marcone placed a light kiss to Harry's lips, hand still running circles on his stomach but not moving from that spot. "John I-" Harry started, but Marcone just shushed him and placed another chaste kiss to his forehead.

"We don't have to do anything that you're not ready for," stated Marcone. "I just want you near me."

Harry was suddenly taken back to their soul gaze and to what he saw in Marcone's soul. He wondered, briefly, what the other man had seen in his soul too. He wondered if he had seen all the dark and scary stuff that wandered around in his soul. If he had seen all the scary things that plagued his dreams. If he had seen what he had done to Justin. Suddenly, he was the one that felt bad. Like he was the drug dealer, murderer, and kingpin of Chicago about to bed a sweet, innocent flower. Not that Harry was a sweet, innocent flower, himself, but you get the idea.

"Harry, what's bothering you?" Asked Marcone. He was lying next to Harry now, on his side, and propped up on one elbow while his other hand was running circles on Harry's chest and stomach.

Damn that man's ability to see right through me, Harry hissed to himself.

"How-" Harry stopped and took in a deep breath. This wasn't an easy subject for him to bring up. Or for any wizard actually, he presumed. "What did you see in our soul gaze?"

Marcone stared at Harry for a long moment, with this look that was almost comical on him. Almost, he was still too handsome to ever look truly comical or ugly. "What do you mean Harry?"

It was then Harry realized that Marcone didn't know that Harry didn't know what he had seen in their soul gaze. So he explained. "I saw your soul and you saw mine, but I have no idea what you saw in me, like you don't know exactly what I saw in you."

"Never really thought about it," confessed Marcone, now running his hand up and down Harry's chest.

"A soul gaze is something very…" Harry knew the word that fit sounded so feminine- gay -and he really didn't need to sound feminine. It might give Marcone the wrong idea. For he certainly was no girl. But no other words- that sounded less feminine -came to him. "Special."

That got Marcone's attention and he stopped his ministrations as he looked at Harry. Was Harry saying what he thought he was saying? That he and Harry had shared in something special? He definitely hoped so. He really liked that idea. Marcone leaned over and kissed Harry again on the lips, this time applying a bit more pressure as he slid his tongue into the other man's mouth.

Harry opened his mouth, willingly, to the mob boss, enjoying the other man's kisses more than he thought he should. In the next second, Marcone was over top of him, tongue down his throat and hands under his shirt. Harry moaned- rather loudly too -when Marcone pinched his nipple. And that surprised him. He never knew that to be a very erogenous area for him.

Marcone smiled into the kiss as he pinched Harry's nipple again, causing the wizard to moan again. That sound did terrible things to his nether regions. Terribly good things, that was. Harry's own hands came up and slid up and down Marcone's flat chest and broad shoulders, lighting a fire everywhere they touched. It was sinfully delicious. He growled deep in his throat when Harry carded his fingers through his hair.

Harry broke their kiss and pulled away for air, Marcone following after him. Harry turned his head as Marcone leaned down and kissed his neck, and Harry let out a soft sigh as Marcone kissed his way down his neck, stopping at where the neck met shoulder and biting down softly. Harry let out a short, strangled cry, unprepared for that.

"Sorry," whispered Marcone as he lapped at the area he just bit. "Sorry."

"What was that for?" Whispered back Harry. It seemed so out of place. They were going at a slow and leisurely pace, but then Marcone had bit him. Although, he really didn't know Marcone that well. Maybe this was normal for him. Maybe he liked it rough.

"I don't know," whispered back Marcone, honestly, as he took a hold of Harry's shirt. "Sorry if I hurt you." He tugged the shirt up and Harry lifted his arms so that Marcone could more easily slip the garment over his head. Marcone got the shirt up to Harry's wrists before he stopped and twisted up the shirt till Harry's wrists were tightly wrapped up in them.

"John?" Questioned Harry as Marcone held his wrists down above his head with one hand. Marcone could hear the slightest bit of fear in Harry's voice. So he kissed him chastely on the lips before quickly moving down to his chest before Harry could say another word. He could tell that Harry did not like being held down, so he'd just have to show him that he wouldn't hurt him. No, quite the opposite really.

Marcone quickly ran his tongue down Harry's chest, stopping when he reached a nipple before swirling his tongue around it. He heard Harry sharply intake a breath and he arched his back off the bed and closer to Marcone. And for a moment he had stopped struggling against Marcone's restraints. He liked Harry like this; panting, arching into him, practically begging Marcone for his touch. But what he liked most was the way Harry was looking at him now, with lust clouded eyes and kiss swollen lips.

Marcone's eyes raked over Harry's stretched out body beneath him and for a moment Harry didn't say anything, nor did he try to wiggle out of Marcone's grasp. Sure, he wasn't too keen on being held down, but he was slowly starting to understand why Marcone had done that and why he had bitten his neck. When he had gazed into the other man's soul for the first time he had seen a predator. A tiger, to be exact. And all this was a show of dominance and possession. And so he had to treat Marcone like a wild tiger. All slow movements and soft words.

"You know," started Harry, softly, as he wiggled beneath Marcone, causing a sensuous friction between their groins. "If you let me go, I can return the favors."

Marcone groaned at the feeling as Harry continued to wiggle under him and look up at him like that. "Yeah," breathed Marcone. "I will." He leaned down and kissed Harry's jaw, feeling the strange texture of the stubble of Harry's face on his lips. "But later."

He worked his way up Harry's jaw and flicked his tongue out against the shell of Harry's ear, before biting down lightly on it, making sure that it wouldn't leave a mark. His free hand had found its way to the hem of Harry's jeans and he really wanted to slip it under the fabric to the pulsing member that was under it, but felt he needed more permission first, so he settled for palming Harry through the garment.

"Harry," breathed Marcone, "can I touch you?"

"You are touching me," answered Harry.

Marcone chuckled at Harry's answer. "I meant, can I touch," Marcone squeezed Harry, lightly, causing the wizard to shudder and grind into his hand, "you."

Harry bit his bottom lip and something about that action went straight to Marcone's groin. He loved the way Harry looked when he did that. Suddenly, Harry let out a puff of air as he looked straight into Marcone's eyes. "Only if you let me touch you too."

Marcone smirked, but easily released Harry's wrists and in an instant Harry had thrown his shirt onto the floor and was back to kissing Marcone. The mob boss growled low in his throat at how responsive Harry was being as the other man was running his hands up and down his body and sucking on Marcone's lower lip. It was sexy and electrifying, and Marcone felt a carnal heat wash over him.

He made short work of the button and zipper on Harry's jeans before slipping his hand under them and his underwear. Harry broke their kiss with a gasp as Marcone took a hold of him for the first time, without there being any cloth between them. It was strange and at the same time arousing. And Harry was terrified. He had no idea what to do. Yes, what Marcone was doing felt good. And yes, he'd like to return the favor. But he had never been with another man before and had no idea what to do with one in this kind of situation. He thought Marcone deserved to know as much.

"I-I," stuttered Harry, causing Marcone to look at him. "I've never… I haven't, ever been with a man before."

Of all the things Harry expected Marcone to do after he told him that, smirking wasn't one of those things. "Good," stated Marcone, proudly, "Because I really don't like the idea of sharing you."

Not to mention, the idea of being your first is incredibly arousing, finished Marcone to himself. Almost painfully so.

Marcone had also never been with a man before either, unless you counted that one time in high school he got really drunk and gave his best male friend a hand job, but Marcone didn't think that counted. But he wasn't ignorant to how the mechanics of sex between two males worked. But he doubted Harry was ready for that.

He kissed Harry again and tugged down the man's pants and underwear. Harry helped him get him out of his clothes before reaching up with shaking, nervous, hands and tried to undo the button and zipper on Marcone's own jeans. His hands kept slipping and he finally had to settle on just slipping his hands into Marcone's jeans.

Marcone let out a pleasurable hiss as Harry took him in hand and slowly started to stroke him. He kissed Harry, viciously, again and they both started to pick up speed.

Marcone suddenly felt like a horny teenager on prom night. Harry moaned and moved in ways that had him aching for more. More kisses. More touches. More everything. He felt that Harry had finally worked his fly open, when the wizard had slowly pushed his jeans and underwear down his thighs. And there was no hiding how much Marcone wanted Harry. But that was okay, because he knew that Harry wanted him just as badly.

It wasn't long after that, that both men were flying high and seeing stars. As bare flesh moved across bare flesh. As moans blended into one. As the night around them seemed to wrap them in a dark blanket. They were overwhelmed in a sea of ecstasy, being swallowed up in its sweet caresses, and drowning in its pleasure.

As they came down from their pleasurable highs, all that could be heard was the panting of their breaths and the sound of crickets singing songs outside their window. Neither man said anything for a minute and just lay next to one another on the bed. Their minds racing along with their heart beats, and now that it wasn't clouded by pleasuring endorphins and other hormones they were contemplating what this all meant.

Harry was the first one to break the silence. "John I-"

Marcone shushed him as he leaned over and gave a feather light kiss to his lips. He could tell from his tone what Harry was about to say. "Don't. Just don't. For tonight, I just want to hold you," he whispered into Harry's ear as he pulled the other man closer, practically laying him on top of his chest. "Tomorrow we can deal with repercussions. But for tonight, just be mine."

Harry said nothing. He decided that the worries of the world could be put on hold for one night. And for just one night, he could let himself belong to Marcone. He laid his head on Marcone's shoulder and listened to the soothing rhythm of the other man's breath as he breathed in and out. This was nice, he decided. To be held and not have to be strong or to pretend you had all the answers. It was nice to simply be in the company of another who truly accepted you just as you were; faults and all.

Marcone ran his fingers through Harry's unruly hair, enjoying the fact that, for once, the other man wasn't fighting him. He loved having Harry so close to him. He loved being able to hold him in his arms. And, silently, he wished time would stop, so that he could have this moment forever.

"Harry," Marcone whispered as both he and Harry were starting to drift off to sleep.


"I think I might love you."

Harry was quite for a moment and Marcone worried that he may have crossed some line that would scare the other man away, but with a trembling voice Harry replied.

"I think…" Harry started. "That I might love you too."

That brought a smile to Marcone's face and a warm feeling to his chest. And while he wanted to tell Harry a million things, he settled on just kissing the top of the other man's head. And they both drifted off to sleep, both sleeping better than they had in years.

And in the morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon and a few rays flitted in through the curtains and covered them in an orange glow, they were found to be wrapped in each other's embrace, sound asleep and safe in each other's arms.

For a moment, one could presume that this was a happy ending to a short fairytale, but life is always more complicated than that. However, life is also beautiful and mysterious. Where one story ends, another just begins.

The End


Das Ende