Chapter 10
It hadn’t been hard to find Mason’s last name or his phone number. Part of it he’d done online through Jordan’s social media profiles, something he checked out before Jordan had been made knight. The rest had been a little more underhand. But the result was the same.
He had Mason’s number, and he’d had it for a week. He hadn’t planned on using it. Getting it had been for fun to see if he could and then to find out more about him. The more he found out, the more he wanted.
Lekso was out celebrating the human New Year. Some random date from the human’s random calendar. They had determined the date would be a good place to start a new year, even though it had zero relevance to anything at all. He refused to go out and celebrate.
Because it was nothing to celebrate.
He was starting the New Year exactly the same way he finished the last. No, that wasn’t right. He was sure he was a little more bitter this year.
For Christmas, Lekso had got him a T-shirt with a cute cat flashing razor-sharp claws on the front. Beneath the cat, it said, “I’m not always snarky… Yes, I am.”
That wasn’t his only gift, but the point had been made. Even his son thought him cranky.
Maybe when Lekso was over two hundred years old, he’d understand love and loss a little better. That human girl was going to age and die before his eyes.
Assuming the return of magic meant elves once again averaged three and a half centuries. He ran his fingers over the pointed shell of one ear. It was still firm and pointed. If his ear started to soften, he had problems.
Having Mason’s number and using it were two different things. Even though he was home alone, it took him an hour to send a text. Why he cared if Mason said no, he wasn’t sure. It’s not as though they promised anything. They’d said goodbye, and that should’ve been the end.
Should’ve been.
He didn’t date humans.
He didn’t want to date.
He wanted to be alone less.
He was so tired of the loneliness that filled him and echoed around him and tried to consume him. He sent the message and then waited with his phone in his hand as if he were waiting for a battle update.
The reply wasn’t instant, but it was near enough.
He exhaled and flexed his fingers to shake out the tension so he could type a reply.
It’s a turn of phrase. I have beer.
Then he sent his address. He wasn’t sure he could face drinking mead, either.
He glanced around his house. It was in Creature Hollow. Probably not a place Mason frequented. Mason would’ve realized that by now, and there was no taking back the invitation.
While his house might be what humans called the wrong end of town, there was nothing shabby or unkempt about it. That didn’t stop him from walking around and making sure Lekso hadn’t left plates, cups, dirty socks, shoes, or any other bits lying around the living room or bathroom.
His own room was tidy after years spent living in soldiers’ barracks. If anything, it was too barren and not at all welcoming. He wasn’t sure there was anything he could do about that. Though he made sure his newly purchased lube was on the bedside table. Or was that too much?
He had no idea.
However, Mason was coming around for sex, so it probably wasn’t too much. To hide it away might imply they were doing something other than hooking up, as the humans termed it. Exploring pleasure was a far better phrase.
His phone chimed.
So what does crying over mead mean? It sounds sad.
Vlash considered the message. It meant many things, depending on both external and internal factors.
He’d meant it casually the first time, as in they were going to get drunk and forget the pain. They had definitely done that.
This time, it wasn’t to drink…
Nor did he want to reminisce about the past.
It can mean drink to forget or to bond over pain. In this case, it means come around, I have refreshments.
There were other nuances. Such as getting to know someone through their worst experiences. How they handled them said a lot about the person.
He wasn’t sure he liked the person he’d become now that he could see him clearly. And he didn’t want to spend another ten years the same way…though he wouldn’t be, as he no longer had a small child to raise.
He raked his fingers through his hair, remembering the way Mason had unraveled the braids as if he’d done it a hundred times before. An intimate gesture he shouldn’t have allowed, and if he’d been sober, he might have refused.
A knock on the door dragged him back to the present. That he’d been thinking about Mason all day meant his body was wired with need before he opened the door. Once he wouldn’t have cared; now, it seemed like a betrayal of the past that he hungered for another with such intensity.
He curled his fingers into a fist and resisted grabbing the front of Mason’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.
Mason did not resist.
He cupped Vlash’s jaw and brushed his lips over his mouth.
It was hardly worth doing. He gave in, his hand sliding up Mason’s shirt and gripping the cloth.
Mason gasped, and Vlash took what he wanted, as though he hadn’t breathed since their last encounter.
Their teeth clinked as Mason met and matched his hunger, his fingers pushing into Vlash’s hair.
They were both panting when Vlash drew back. “Did you want that beer?”
“Fuck the beer. I want you.”