Page 6 of Mytho Investigations: Side Stories

Had he lost his nerve?

Vlash had grabbed him when they danced. He’d been pressed against him only moments ago; he must be aware that there were no muscles hiding beneath his clothes.

He could do this.

He toed off his shoes, as that seemed safe. The edge in Vlash’s eyes softened, but now he was watching every move, and while the only light in the room came from the candle, it was too much.

Vlash walked over barefoot, pants unlaced and struggling to hold on to his hips. The hard length of his dick was trying to escape the laces and leather. “Do you need some help with all those buttons?”

Mason didn’t know the right answer, and it didn’t matter because then Vlash was undoing the buttons of his shirt as if all he wanted was Mason naked.

CHAPTER 4

Vlash’s fingers shook as he undid the buttons on Mason's shirt. He knew if he slowed down or stopped to think, he’d lose his nerve, and come Monday, he’d be standing in the store ringing up sales, wondering what the fuck he was doing with his life. There’d been a time when he’d known. When it had been so easy. When he’d loved his life, his wife, his son and daughter, and his job. All he had left was his son, not even his job. Sure, he was dressed the part of head archer tonight, and he did some head archery things, but ninety percent of the time, he scanned pasta and weighed vegetables and mopped up messes.

This wasn’t the life he was supposed to be living. But all mythos could say the same thing. And as much as being at the wedding had ripped open wounds that he’d, if not healed, then at least covered up, it also made him realize he didn’t want to spend another ten years living like that. Lekso was an adult. He was going to college and leaving all things mytho behind.

Including his father.

So he didn’t like mixing bloodlines, and he preferred the company of elves. Tonight, he was making an exception because he wanted to feel as though he was more than a washed-up head archer, shopkeeper, and widower.

The last button popped open, and Vlash went to shove the shirt off Mason's shoulders. Mason drew in a breath and gripped the front of the shirt.

Vlash glanced up and held the human’s gray-eyed gaze. Had he changed his mind already?

Fucking humans.

But the heat was still there like hot coals waiting for tinder to ignite, and Vlash knew without moving his hand that Mason’s cock was hard for him. He was enjoying being desired a little too much, but that was a problem for daylight.

“I’m not a soldier or an elf,” Mason said without releasing his grip.

“I know.”

Mason pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. “I just got out of a five-year relationship, and I let myself go, okay?”

Vlash kissed him. In part to shut him up, and in part to distract him so he could get him naked because he didn’t give a fuck. He just wanted somebody against him. He wanted someone’s hands on him, and he hated being so fucking desperate and needy and raw. And for a moment, he hated that Mason made him feel like this.

If Mason hadn’t looked at him that way when they’d danced, he could’ve bundled it up and taken it out on the next person he trained with. Lekso would tell him that wasn’t healthy.

He was probably right.

He pressed his hips against Mason’s as his tongue slid into the human’s mouth. Mason responded with his tongue, meeting and challenging Vlash’s and then his hands were on Vlash’s hips again, sliding around his waist, smoothing over his lower back, and dipping into his pants to cup his ass. For a moment, Vlash couldn’t breathe or think as he rolled his hips, enjoying the feel of Mason's cock rubbing against his own. He could almost forget the last century and pretend that he was only one hundred and fifty again. Back then he’d spent his nights out drinking and fucking, and his days training in the king’s army. Sure, they were cousins, but he hadn’t become head archer because of his bloodline.

When he went to pull the shirt off, this time Mason didn’t resist. Vlash dropped the offending clothing on the floor.

He hadn’t expected Mason to have the hard body of a soldier. He hadn’t expected the chest hair either, though he should’ve as it was a human thing.

“What about condoms?” Mason whispered against his lips. “Or⁠—"

“I don’t give a fuck about condoms. I’ll see a vampire to sort it out later if I need to.”

Mason’s eyebrows knitted together. “I’m sure that sentence made sense to you.”

“You said you’ve been with someone for five years, and it’s just ended?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a decade.” And before that, it had only been his wife.