Chapter Seventeen
Eoin
The official verdict isn’t in yet, but based on the way Dáithí’s smiling and clinging to my side, I’d say our date was a success.
Since the moment I sat down and handed him his beer, with the promise that the hot dogs were on their way, he’s been affectionate and happy.
At first I thought that was because of the flask Faith kept passing around, but he’s not showing signs of being drunk, and it’s been long enough since he had any of that for it to have worn off anyway.
No, this is genuinely happy Dáithí.
“Got your keys?” I ask as we approach his front door.
He has his head bent over his phone, texting with one hand.
His new friends invited him to their group chat so they could keep him up to date with…
I’m not sure, exactly. Something about a husband’s naked friend?
And I think Botox was mentioned as well, which confused me, since Dáithí won’t ever need it.
We’re elves, after all. Self-healing wrinkles is simple, if we even allow ourselves to age to the point of getting them.
“Hm?” he asks, absorbed in whatever he’s reading. He only parted from them forty minutes ago, but the gossip must be piling up.
“Keys, love. We need to go inside. Unless you’d like to go sit in the park?” It’s a beautiful evening, and I wouldn’t mind some more outdoor time.
“In my pocket. Wait, huh?” He looks up. “What did you say?”
“We need your keys to get inside, or we can go to the park if you’d rather,” I repeat.
He doesn’t often let down his guard enough for me to see this distracted side of him, and I love it.
Regular Dáithí is sassy and sexy and sharp, but private Dáithí is all that plus sensitive and soft and adorable.
“Oh, let’s go to the park. It’s been such a gorgeous day, but I’d love to actually sit in the grass.”
“Me, too.” I turn away from his door in the direc—
“Where are you going?” His firm tug on the arm that’s wound through mine stops me before he speaks.
“Park?” I point east. Most of us elves who live in cities either try to find homes with yards and gardens or green spaces nearby. Dáithí’s no exception—there’s a small but really lovely park only half a block from here.
He shakes his head. “I need to change first, Eoin. I’ll split a seam if I try to sit on the ground in these jeans, and the last thing this shirt needs is grass stains. Anyway, I want to bring Elsking with us. She hasn’t had park time since she came to live with me.”
“Okay.” I nod. “So… keys?” My restraint in not mentioning that we’re back where we started is medal-worthy.
“It’s in my left front pocket,” Dáithí says with the kind of heavy patience that implies I should have known that.
We stare at each other, neither of us moving.
“Um… are you going to get it out?”
He sighs. “Both my hands are busy. Could you get it, please?”
I don’t bother trying to hold back my laugh. Cheeky little shit. He’s got his phone in one hand and the other is holding my arm—it’s not like he needs them to perform surgery. “Of course. Always happy to put my hand in your pocket, love. Especially when your jeans are so very tight.”
He blows me a kiss, and I take my time feeling around for the key. It’s not like he could have fit anything else in that pocket, so it’s easy to find, but we both enjoy having me draw it out.
When we finally get inside, he beelines over to Elsking’s hutch to pet and coo at her while he checks her water bowl.
“Just give me five minutes to change and grab your leash,” he promises her, “and we’ll go out.
You’ll like it.” He glances my way as he heads toward the bedroom.
“Do you want to grab a couple of water bottles and some fruit?”
“I got it,” I assure him. I’m familiar enough with his kitchen to bag up a small picnic of snacks for us, and then I call, “Is it okay if I take Elsking out of the hutch for cuddles?” She’s been alone most of the day, and even though Dáithí said rabbits are okay with that, I don’t think she should have to wait any longer for social time.
“Sure!”
Elsking is more than happy to leave her hutch, and with her cuddled in my arms—she truly is so affectionate—I wander back into the kitchen.
I obviously didn’t clean his apartment this morning, since I wasn’t about to pass up the ball game, but next weekend might work out, and I want to get an idea of what I’ll be tackling.
Obviously I would never reorganize his space without his approval, but I’ve noticed that he doesn’t have much of a system for pantry goods, and there are multiples of some items.
“You can help yourself if you’re hungry,” he says from behind me. “You know that, right?”
I turn and smile at him, taking in how good he looks in faded, worn-out jeans and an equally old chest-hugging T-shirt, Elsking’s purple leash trailing from his hand.
My Dáithí would be beautiful in anything.
“Thank you, I know, but I’m not hungry,” I assure him.
“I was just wondering if you’d like me to install a spice rack on the inside of the cabinet door. ”
He cocks his head. “Say again?”
I gesture into the cabinet. “See how everything’s all stacked up randomly, making it hard to find things? That’s how you’ve ended up with four unopened jars of ground cinnamon, right?”
“Right.” He pulls a face. “It never seems to be there when I want it, but as soon as I buy a new one, I find it.” He pauses. “Wait, did you say four?”
I nod. “Yep. But if you want, I can install a spice rack on the inside of the door, so you’ll be able to see it right away, no need to rummage through everything else at all. And it will free up more room too.”
He stares at me. “That would be great, but… do you really want to waste time doing that?”
Huffing, I give him a wry look. “It’s not a waste if it makes things easier for you. I can take care of it when I clean your place. Is there anything else you want done, or that bugs you?”
Slowly, he shakes his head, the softness in his gaze telling me I’m winning points.
“Let me think about it and get back to you. There are better things we can be doing right now than talking about cabinets.” He comes forward and fastens Elsking’s leash to her collar, then takes her from me, bending to croon about how lucky she is that he’s not the jealous type.
Grinning, I grab the bag of snacks and follow them outside.
It doesn’t take long for us to get to the park, and at this time on a Saturday evening, it’s deserted. The kids who use the playground equipment have gone home, and it’s too early for the older teens who use it as a make-out and hangout spot. They like to wait for full darkness.
We settle on a grassy spot that’s still faintly warm from the day’s sun.
Dáithí and I lie back and kick off our shoes and socks, and Elsking explores the area within the reach of her leash, periodically returning to nibble at our fingers.
Above us, the sky is slowly darkening from the brilliant cerulean of the day through shades of indigo.
Only the brightest stars are visible just yet—though, I think that might actually be a planet.
I don’t know enough about this dimension to be sure.
“I should learn about the astronomy here,” I muse. “I keep meaning to, but there always seems to be something else to do.”
Dáithí’s hand brushes mine, and then he twines our fingers together. “Same. The stars are pretty, though. I missed seeing the night sky when the anomalies got bad.” He pauses. “It’s different here, but I think it’s better that way.”
“Mm.” I know what he means. If the night sky was the same as it had been back home, it would have just made the fact that we lost everything else more painful. I tighten my fingers in his.
He seems to understand, squeezing back. “Thank you for today,” he murmurs. “It was perfect.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “I’m glad.”
We lie there for a while, thinking our own thoughts but somehow keeping each other company, and just when I’m beginning to feel hungry, Dáithí sits up and grabs the snack bag.
He coos at Elsking and offers her something—probably the lettuce I put in for her—then leans over me with a bunch of grapes in his hand.
“Open,” he says quietly, and I open my mouth and let him feed me grapes, one at a time. He alternates between giving them to me and eating them himself, propped on an elbow beside me, and I keep my eyes on his face. The faint smile as he takes care of us both feeds my soul.
Eventually, the grapes are gone, and Dáithí sits up again. I’m half expecting him to offer me water next, but instead I feel his hands at my waist and then the night air on my cock as he frees it.
“Dáithí—”
“Shh. I’m still hungry, Eoin.”
I huff and prop myself up on my elbows so I can see him bent over my rapidly hardening dick, which doesn’t care about the law or modesty. “We’re in a public place.”
His hair falls into his eyes as he glances at me. “It’s dark, and nobody’s here. Trust me.”
Our gazes hold for another few seconds, and then I lie back down in tacit assent, waiting for whatever he does next.
Which is to lick the head of my dick. “Mmm,” he murmurs.
“You taste better than grapes ever could.” He sets to work tormenting me.
There’s no other way to describe the way he licks and lightly nibbles when I want—when he knows I want—a firm touch.
He does this sometimes, edging me until I can’t remember my own name. I wish I could say I hated it.
With my pants still on, he doesn’t have a lot of room to work, but he’s wrapped his hand around the base of my cock, and it grounds me as his lips and tongue lavish attention on the rest, the butterfly touches and phantom kisses merging with the cooling evening air and the darkness that envelops us to send me into a hazy, sensation-filled dream state.
I stare up at the icy pinpricks that are the stars as little shocks of pleasure race through my body, my muscles slowly becoming tighter as my breathing begins to race and hitch.
And then Dáithí’s hot mouth swallows me and my vision whites out.