Page 4 of Mytho Investigations: Side Stories

What better way to climb back on the dating horse than to fuck an elf who’d given him a fake name?

Mason made his way off the dance floor and towards the exit. The bathrooms were out the door and down the corridor. He could change his mind.

The air was cooler in the corridor, but the noise of the party trickled out. The beat of the music and the laughter followed him. He hadn’t hooked up in so long. He couldn’t remember what to do. It was one of those things he’d given up soon after turning thirty. Soon after, he met Bud.

Five fucking years of trying to convince himself that Bud was the one. He’d known for at least two, but he wanted it to work. What he should’ve done was leave two years ago; then, he wouldn’t be thirty-five and single with a gym membership that he desperately needed to use.

Vlash walked past him, holding a bottle of mead. “Coming?”

He hadn’t been joking about the mead. Mason swallowed. If it went horribly, he could escape back to the party. “Yes”

It wasn’t as if he had a better offer. No, this was the only one he had. What did that say about him? He was sleeping with the first person who asked. The only person who asked.

The hottest and most dangerous person, aside from the god Pan, at the party.

Vlash walked a few paces ahead, and Mason followed as if they happened to be heading in the same direction. Maybe Vlash didn’t want to be seen with a human.

Vlash opened the door, stepped in, and paused as if surprised.

Mason stood in the doorway. It wasn’t a big room. Nor was there much in it. A double bed, a trunk at the foot of the bed, and a desk. On the table was a candle and a note.

“Was someone else meant to be here?” He didn’t want to step on the wrong mytho toes.

“No,” Vlash said as he put the mead next to the candle. He picked up the note and read it, his lips curving.

Vlash didn’t smile much, and Mason wondered what it would be like to hear him laugh with joy instead of bitterness. To see him smile so it reached his eyes. Like all elves, he was pretty, but he was stern…almost grim.

For a couple of heartbeats, Mason wondered if he should even be in Vlash’s room.

Vlash unbuckled his belt and placed his sword on the wooden chest at the foot of the bed. His moves were fluid, as if he’d done them a thousand times. He still had three visible knives on him, and Mason had no idea how many hidden ones he was wearing, but he doubted Vlash was ever unarmed.

“Are you going to close the door? And when you do, which side do you intend to be on?” Vlash lifted one eyebrow and stared at Mason.

Mason’s pulse filled his ears, and his mouth dried. Vlash watched him with a heat and a challenge that Mason wasn’t used to seeing directed at him. The elf was all sharp edges, and all Mason wanted to do was play with him. He didn’t like danger. He didn’t find it exciting.

So why was Vlash, with all his knives and leather, so exciting? Enticing?

This was his only chance to find out.

Mason crossed the threshold and shut the door.

Vlash closed the distance between them and pressed Mason up against the door. His lips brushed over Mason’s, and his hands cupped Mason’s face. Another ghost of a kiss, as if Vlash had to remember what to do. Their noses brushed together with each tentative kiss. This was the only man Mason had kissed, other than Bud, in five years.

Vlash’s lips felt different. He moved differently.

He held Mason possessively yet without demand.

It was Mason who made the first demand.

Mason needed more than light kisses. He opened his mouth, hoping that he wasn’t breaking some Elvish faux pas. Like any soldier, Vlash seized the opening. His tongue flicked over Mason’s lip before dipping in. That first taste was the only warning he got.

Vlash’s mouth closed over his, hot and hungry. Mason rolled his hips, needing to feel more of him, and Vlash responded, grinding against him as his tongue invaded.

Thank fuck for the door at his back, or he’d have slipped to the floor. His hands found their way to Vlash’s hips, fingertips pressing into the leather of his coat.

“What do you like?” Vlash whispered.

“My ex used to⁠—"