hidden_longings (hidden_longings) wrote in mafiabanter,


Title: Antisocial

Rating: NC-17

Story Warnings: Flashback, Dubious consent. Rough sex. Semi-Public Sex. Barebacking. Harry and John have issues.

Relationships: Harry Dresden/John Marcone
Characters: Harry Dresden, John Marcone

Summary: John fights for self control and loses. Harry fights against his past and wins against his will. AKA The boys first date.

This story comes after I Fix Mine Eye On Thine.

Harry tugged nervously at his tie as he swept out of the limousine.

Gatherings of supernatural powerhouses was one thing. At those parties promises were very carefully not made to anyone, and nobody asked for anything.

Mundane chicanery was something else altogether. Nothing could compel them to tell the truth, well nothing that didn't have notable side effects like death.

The steady growth of Morningway Industries had meant that more and more Dresden was being pushed into the mundane spotlight.

So to speak, he could still hex a microphone at ten paces without so much as twitching a finger. Reporters were starting to steer clear of him, muttering dark imprecations against portable EMP's.

Dresden cast a black glare at the gathering reporters and the only reason he didn't blow a couple of bulbs up for the hell of it was because of his dates gentle hand on the base of his spine.

"Now Harry there's no need to cause a spectacle so early in the evening," Marcone muttered. "We might need a distraction later on to make our escape."

"If I hear, word fucking one from some wannabe religious lunatic I will burn this place to the ground Marcone." Dresden's muttered words were gritted out from behind clenched teeth.

"But think how happy that would make them in the moments before their death. There's nothing worse than a martyr dear."

Harry finally released some of his building tension with a low laugh.

Marcone's smile was small but pleased as he lead the taller man down the small red carpet. Accepting the photographs graciously as he swept towards the large doors which lead into the honest to god ballroom that the mayoral candidate had rented.

It had taken quite a bit of pleading on his part to ensure that Harry would appear at the relatively small party. Marcone was only too pleased to have finagled Harry’s acceptance, after their single night together followed by a Soulgaze that had left him shivering in his own skin he hadn’t been able to woo Harry into coming to him again.

Whatever show the younger man might put on he could see how unsure Harry was about this relationship. The only thing that he could think of that would put Harry at ease was to keep their interactions in the public eye.

Unfortunately Harry hated said eye and was only slightly less afraid of it then he was of being alone with John again.

Really John considered it a sort of triumph that he his manipulations had worked as well as they had.

As the two striking men swept into the too large space the room fell silent in a deafening wave.

Harry watched with some satisfaction as he watched several wrinkled faces ball up in disgust, their wives attempts to do the same thwarted by skin pulled taught with knives and Botox. Really there wasn't much that made him happier than making assholes uncomfortable, and by the soured milk expressions most of the room was wearing he was doing a fabulous job.

Mayoral candidate what's-his-name came bustling up trying desperately to pull a smile out of his ass, but Harry figured his head was so far up it he wouldn't be surprised if his teeth were stained brown from shit.

The glittering white grin was a vague disappointment but Harry bared his teeth at the older man in apparent greeting and was rewarded with a flinch.

"Mr. Marcone. Mr. Dresden. So good to see that both of you could make it. I do hope that you'll enjoy yourselves tonight."

"I'm quite sure we will Mr. Vanton." Marcone's smile was only slightly less predatory as he scanned the room, a shark scenting for blood.

Still bowing and scraping Mr. Vanton made his excuses as quickly as he could manage.

Only a decade of harsh lessons at his Uncle’s feet kept Harry from fidgeting nervously with his sleeves as he tried to keep track of all of the strangers that filled the room, staying close to Marcone seemed cowardly but speaking to anyone else would be too much at this point.

He had been to too many of these types of functions, granted he was no pre-adolescent boy anymore but the room was filled to the brim with older men that made him long to escape.

But he was here to dip his toes in the mundane political pool, true this was more John’s scene than his own, but he needed to become a recognizable and accepted figurehead for Morningway Industries if he wanted to participate in the partnership that Marcone was offering him on so many levels.

“Just breath Harry.” Marcone murmured soothingly. “We need to make the rounds to meet with some of the more politically important people and then we can be on our merry way.”

John eyed Harry with growing worry as they began to wander from group to group. Harry would slide into the fray easily enough, smooth introduction here, witty repartee there. He was charming enough that many of the tighter cliques willingly loosened their grips on the conversation to let him talk animatedly about his business/local politics/etc. etc.

But the smile that split Dresden’s face was more grimace than pleasure and his eyes held a trace of some sort of glazed desperation as though he was playing a part that had been ingrained into him in some less than savory manner.

Finally something seemed to break in Harry. He had been in the middle of discussing some obscure tax law when an older man clapped a hand on his neck.

For a moment John thought Harry was going to collapse to his knees as his eyes darkened with shock and some sort of fear.

John’s hand still clasped comfortingly on Harry’s back could his heart leap into sudden frenetic motion and all of the muscles in his back seized into some sort of rigor mortis.

Pulling him free from the too friendly shoulder clasp that the already inebriated gentleman was trying for, John managed to lead Harry to a secluded corner.

“Harry...are you alright?”

Harry’s breath was coming and going in deep pants and his eyes were wild and lost as though he had lost his grasp on where he was.

“Harry?” John reached up hesitantly to cup his chin with his right hand.

Dresden flung his head back as though he had been slapped before he bulldozed past the smaller man and bolted in the direction of the restrooms.

John hesitated for several long moments.

He had begged and cajoled the younger man into coming with him, trying to fight past the layer of terror that lay just under the bravado and violence.

He had tried everything he could think of after they had shared the Soulgaze and all he had managed to do was bring Harry to a breaking point in front of an assembly of politically powerful figures.

But John Marcone had not become Mafia Don of Chicago by being a coward or a quitter, and pulling his vest straight with a forceful tug he marched after his lover.

As he strode through the doors to the Men's Room, Marcone snarled silently at the other occupant who was staring with some interest at the handicap stall. Discretion being the better part of valor the stranger hot footed it out of the room without drying his dripping hands.

Locking the door behind the recent evacuee, Marcone strode towards the closed stall.


When no answer seemed forthcoming, John put to use a particular skill he hadn’t needed to use since his high school days and managed to fiddle around enough with the stall door to unlock it from the outside.

Stepping into the stall, Marcone studied the puddle of wizard that was pooled across the floor. Harry had curled himself into as small a ball as it was possible for a man of his size to be, his face buried behind upflung arms and legs pretzeled into uncomfortable looking contortions around his ears.

John’s eyes narrowed as he studied the tableau in front of him before he hesitantly made his way closer to the younger man. He could see the shadows of Harry’s tightly clenched shut eyes and could see slight movement as he spoke with barely a whisper of sound.

The man in front of him was always in control, always unwilling to break in front of him. John had to reach a hand down to adjust his suddenly hardening groin as he took in the sight of Harry laid at his feet like some sort of pagan sacrifice to a dark god.

John had to shake his head harshly to clear the image from his mind and regain some of his much vaunted control.

Creeping closer, John crouched down beside his lover and instead of trying to pull Harry’s arms away from his face he placed his cheek against Harry’s and let the vibrations of the near silent words shiver through him.

“No. I won’t. Won’t. Won’t. Won’t.”

“Won’t what Harry?”

Marcone could feel Harry’s cheek twist.

“They can’t make me.”


“The Council. Uncle. They can’t make me.”

“Of course they can’t love. If they try we’ll kill them all.”

Harry’s sudden laugh was jagged.

“I already killed Morningway.”

John sucked in a sharp breath. His instinctive rut meeting nothing but air as he strained to keep Harry from feeling his arousal.

“For the best really, I would have hated to steal the kill from you. But you must promise to leave at least some of the Council to my care.”


As Harry slowly unwound, John stayed pressed to his side. When Dresden sat upright John pressed a kiss to the corner of his lover’s mouth before pulling him upright in one smooth motion.

Harry pulled away from John.

“I’m fine. Forget about it, get back to the party.”

Harry stumbled wearily towards one of the sinks, bending down low to scoop some of the cool water up with a cupped hand letting it splash against his face.

John’s control snapped as he saw the fitted cloth tighten over taut buttocks.

His lunge nearly sent Harry face first into the mirror and the taller man had to dig one hand into the counter and slap the other against the reflective surface to keep from losing his balance completely.

“Stars and Stones. John!”

The rabid hunger that broke the dams of John’s self-control forced a growl out of his mouth and he bit down hard on the curve where Harry’s neck met his shoulder.

Harry’s high pitched squeal made John let go.

“Shut up. If we’re caught it’s on your head.”

Harry turned his head, pupils blown and eyes almost black.

“Fucking make me!”

John snarled as he flung all of his weight forward again, slamming Harry against the counter, trying to pin him down.

Harry heaved up trying desperately to use his greater height and weight to dislodge the older man from his back, but he couldn’t find any sort of traction.

When his wet hand finally slid across the mirror Harry slammed into the countertop with a gasp of forcefully exhaled air.

John chuckled low in his throat, his hands digging deep into Harry’s narrow hips, his thrusts rubbing Harry’s groin against the smooth cool granite.

Harry’s fingers tightened convulsively on the countertop as he fought for breath, for control, for for.


One of John’s hands had released his grip and swept around, working smoothly to get first his buttons and then his zipper pulled away before grabbing his slowly rousing shaft through the silk of his boxers.

“Mmmm. Getting wet for me already aren’t you?”

Harry whimpered, giving in to the rough treatment and trying to thrust into John’s grip, frustrated by the impeding cloth.

John released even that half-grip and instead let two fingers trace the damp circle that had formed at the head of Harry’s cock.

He pulled mockingly away from Harry’s next thrust and instead brought his damp fingers up to Harry’s mouth.

“Taste your precum.” He shoved his digits none too gently into Harry’s gaping mouth and let them swirl across Harry’s tongue; letting his fingers dig into the back of Harry’s throat until the younger man was choking on him.

“That’s what you’ve been missing because you’ve been too much of a coward, too much of a cocktease, to let me have you again. Well I’ve had enough of waiting and now we’ll do it my way, whether you like it or not.”

Harry moaned around the invading fingers. He wrapped his tongue around the slim digits, tasting the salt of his precum and the sweat from John’s skin. He sucked at them obediently, finally resting most of his weight on the counter as he gave in.

“You’d better slobber those fingers up, Dresden. You’re not getting anything else.”

Harry tried to work up more spit, still gagging occasionally as John ground his heavy shaft into Harry’s crack his broad chest heating up his sweat damp back.

John stayed there for several moments. Eyes half-closed he stared with pleasure at his lovers reflection.

Harry’s face was a contortion of lips spread painfully wide against John’s fist, cheeks ruddy, and eyes squeezed shut and streaming tears.


Harry’s eyes flew open suddenly and looking into the mirror he met John’s in sudden challenge, before he gently bit down on the invading fingers.

Pulling the stinging digits free of Harry’s mouth, John let his lips twist in a faux sneer.

“Little bitch. Is that the way you want to play?”

“I’m still waiting for you to shut me up Marcone.”

John relaxed the hand that had been holding on to Harry’s hip and switched it for a grip that clasped harshly around Harry’s neck. John pulled him upright with this grip, making Harry fight to get enough air before he spun him around so that they faced each other.

John crowded even further into Harry’s space, hand leaving a bruised throat to make a sweeping pull down his lover’s body, ultimately ripping his boxers down past his hips until they hit the floor with a sodden thump. The sudden pull tugged down Harry’s cock before releasing it to slap against his belly, leaving a smear of milky liquid across his dress shirt.

Harry braced his hands against the granite, lifting himself up so that he was sitting on the low counter, lining their pelvises up nearly perfectly.

Once he had regained his balance Harry fumbled with John’s pants for several moments before he finally managed to rip them open revealing John’s bare cock.

John barely gave him a moment to gawk before he shoved between Harry’s long legs, spreading them enough that he could slip between them and let them wrap around his trim waist.

He slipped the first of his two soaking fingers into Harry’s tight heat, relishing the ripple of muscles and gasp of pleasure-soaked pain.

As soon as John felt the slightest relaxation, he wiggled the other wet finger into Harry, deliberately missing his prostate. John continued the torture, twisting and scissoring until Harry was writhing in front of him. Desperately moaning, one hand wrapped around John’s wrist Harry tried to force Marcone to frig him faster, to change the angle. Anything.

“No, Harry. Not yet. You won’t feel that until my dick’s in you. I’m going to make you cum without touching your cock, because all you are, all you need to be, is a hole for me.”

John ripped his wrist away from Harry’s desperate grasp and without pause shoved himself into the too tight hole, spit and precum his only slick.

Harry went ballistic. Back arching until it crackled and his stomach sucking in on itself Harry dug his heels into the small of John’s back.

John’s own hands wrapped around Harry’s waist until they were each gripping a buttock and pulling him with even more violence into his already frenzied thrusts.

“Huh. Huh. Huh.”

With every rocking lunge, Marcone shoved a high pitched gasp from his contorted lover whose arms were now wrapped around his shoulders and neck. Harry winding his limbs around him as much as he could as he quit trying to fight for control and let John take him.

“Yeah.” Breathed John. “Yeah, so good. Such a good boy.”

Harry’s face whitened as he began to shake his head no.


“Whaddya mean no?” John let his normally posh tones go as he bore down on Harry.

“Not yours, Justins.” Harry’s face was wild with despair.

“Justin? Hah!” John finally let himself twist his hips so they hit that spot he had been avoiding for so long.

Harry’s arms went limp and he slammed back into the counter as he lost control of his body with an animalistic grunt of pleasure.

“Justin.” John snarled. “Isn’t half the man I am. And he’s less than a quarter of the man you are.”

Harry convulsed as he came from the pounding that his prostate was taking and the words that were snarled with such conviction in his ear.

John kept thrusting for nearly a minute, not bothering to avoid Harry’s too sensitive prostate even though it made Harry shudder from overstimulation.

When he finally ground in for the last time, John let out a broken groan as his dick twitched and throbbed releasing his seed until it leaked out around the tight plug he had made in Harry’s ass.

A couple of sloppy thrusts made sure that Harry’s thighs were dripping with John’s cum the sloppy slaps making them both shudder.

John leaned over Harry’s gasping stomach, gently suckling Harry’s cum off of his shirt as they tried to regain their breath.

John pulled up and shoved his tongue into Harry’s mouth, making sure to lave the taste of Harry’s seed across his lovers tongue.

It took them several minutes to disengage and when they had finally managed to pull on their clothing and wipe any too conspicuous stains away with damp paper towels.

As John unlocked the door he gave Harry a gentle kiss on the cheek before whispering words that made his younger lover blush.

“If you have any doubt as to whom you belong to, I want you to think about who’s cum is dripping out of your hole. Don’t worry, if you need a refill all you have to do is ask.”


Okay so I have a really great reason that this one-shot took me such a long time. My computer committed seppuku. Okay maybe it wasn't quite that dramatic, but I managed to lose the entirety of this one-shot a half a chapter of my 'Predation' fic. As well as a very large (as in 90 some pages) original story I worked on for an entire semester. I was pissed to put it mildly. So I'm going to be using google docs from now on so that this never ever EVER happens again. Hope you guys enjoy this one-shot and take comfort in the fact that this rewrite is a heck of a lot better than the original. :)

End A/N
Tags: au, author: hidden_longings, fic, rating: nc-17
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