The door to the apartment barely swung closed behind them before Alnyx had the mortal pressed against it, the weight of their bodies what truly allowed the latch to click. The elf’s hands dwarfed the man’s thin waist as he settled them on either hip. If he tried, he could make his fingertips touch.

  “Eight Divines aren’t you gorgeous.” the charm and talkative nature from the public room quickly became tinged with the right amount of filthy. “This truly must be my lucky night.”

  Alnyx couldn’t help but smirk under the praise. He tightened his grip. Nearly hard enough to bruise. The content, bordering on desperate, groan was confirmation it wouldn’t have been unwanted if he had. A shuddering of breath when Alnyx bent his head, lips to the shell of the rounded ear. He took pride in being able to silence the mouthy ones.

  “Anything off limits?” Alnyx had the composure to be able to pause and ask. The way he could feel the whole weight of the mortal in his hold said they certainly couldn’t.

  “Gorgeous, you can do whatever you’d like to me.” The whine was followed much more coherently after a beat with “No visible marks. No blood.” At least some self preservation.

  With that as permission, Alnyx shifted back just slightly. And before the curly haired human could argue, Alnyx pressed their mouths together and swallowed the gasp that it elicited. The mortal tasted like mint. And more than a little like desperation.

  “Meant it. About the bath water.” The man managed to get his composure back, just barely enough to speak when they parted to breathe properly. “Tub’s even big enough for two.”

  The coin from the contract was good, but not good enough to turn down a free, hot bath. So, Alnyx stepped back and removed his hands from the man’s hips so he was no longer pinning him to the wood of the door.

  “Ah. Good. I’ll just….” The mortal slipped through the gap, pausing to remove his soft-soled shoes. “If you would…”

  Alnyx chuckled at the request, but braced one arm against the wall as he removed his boots. The little laugh it got from the other man was comforting, easing any tension that might have built. He wouldn’t be the first to reconsider once they really got a look at Alnyx. Wouldn’t be the last either, he’d wager the coins he still had left.

  “The door over on the left there.” the mortal pointed. “Fancy a drink? I don’t have the pine stuff you were drinking downstairs. Just regular.”

  “Sure.” As Alnyx walked, he started to strip his shirt off, shaking his head once it was off just before getting to the door. He didn’t miss the excited little “fuck” it elicited from the mortal, no matter how quietly he thought he’d said it.

  Paid or not, it was always nice to be appreciated. As he stepped into the room with the tub he dipped his fingers into the water, which had been dosed with some sort of soap that gave way to bubbles. The vessel seemed to be spelled with something that helped it keep its heat. Briefly, Alnyx felt bad for interrupting what was clearly meant to be a relaxing night. Only briefly, as he undid the fall of his pants and stepped out of them and into the water.

  It was his turn to groan and sigh as he submerged himself. He should have been a little more worried about making a mess, but whatever kept the water warm seemed to keep it from sloshing all over the place as well. Ancestors bless the dependence on mages in the cities, truly.

  “Don’t you look comfortable.” the man entered, with two glasses of a dark colored liquid, and in nothing but a silken robe that was barely tied closed.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The grunt from Alnyx said he was, in fact, quite comfortable. He had closed his eyes almost as soon as the water came up to his chest, but peaked open the other one when he heard the rustling of the silk. Thin, but not in the way one would be if they were going hungry. Pale, unmarked as if he had never seen a day’s hard labor. When the glasses were placed on the stool beside the tub, they were joined by the branches that he had still left behind his ear. He shook his head, freeing the curls from their place as the silk slipped fully off his shoulders and pooled onto the miraculously dry floor.

  “I hate to ask you to move, looking as you do…But, bunch up a bit so I can get behind you.” When Alnyx answered with an arched eyebrow, he continued. “How else am I meant to wash your hair?”

  That was…Certainly a new one for him. But, it didn’t sound unpleasant. So he shifted forward enough, to allow him to slip behind. He didn’t get in the water right away. Instead, the mortal stepped to a vanity, looking through an array of bottles. Bare as the moon that came in from the window, he was truly a sight.

  “Is there something I should call you? Besides Sir. You don’t seem like the type to prefer master….”

  “Alnyx.” He was never one for false names. No sense in it.

  “Peter.” the mortal properly introduced at last. “But you’re welcome to call me whatever you like.” a wink of those pretty blue eyes as he lifted a few of the small bottles and walked back to the tub.

  Peter handed Alnyx one of the glasses so he could set the bottles down, running a hand through the still mostly dry locks. He was gentle as his fingers worked through a few knots they encountered. The pads of them were surprisingly rough and calloused when they traced the lines of the tattoo bands on the shaved parts.

  “Most Taskers I’ve met keep their hair short. Like the military lads. " Peter’s voice was a sweet whisper right against the shell of his pointed ear as Alnyx sipped the drink. “Easier to manage and harder to grab in a fight.”

  “Cultural.” was the best explanation that he would get.

  “Well. I’ll have to take extra good care of it then.”

  Peter finally stepped into the water, one leg on either side of Alnyx. He started to massage the elf’s scalp. A new sensation, and a pleasant one if the fact he closed his eyes again and sighed was any indication. Peter’s near constant chatter was replaced with soft humming. Alnyx couldn’t place the tune, but he was certain he preferred it over the talking.

  “I’m going to get your hair wet now.” Peter warned him. “Tilt your head back. Don’t want to get it in your eyes.”

  Cupped hands kept the water mostly to the hair, and far from the elf’s eyes. The bottles he’d brought along had some sort of treatment in them. The viscous liquids smelled of citrus and lavender, and tingled the scalp. He was not the sort that….Allowed himself to be pampered. But it was pleasant. Unexpected. And Peter has experience with this sort of treatment, with other elves it seemed when the massage when from hair and scalp to the ears. Just enough pressure to be pleasant. A practiced skill.

  He hadn’t meant to close his eyes for longer than was needed. But the third glass of Whiskey. Warm water, kind touches. He was only a Man after all. It wasn’t a true sleep by any means. Alnyx could still hear every note of the hummed song, and feel every bit of pressure against his scalp. And yet, it was the most rested he had felt in weeks.

  “There now.” Peter kept his voice soft as he raked the last bit of product on his fingers through, after what could have been hours as far as Alnyx was concerned. “Give yourself a little dunk, and I’ll get you a towel.” he got out himself, wrapping one around his waist so he could put all the glass, bottles and empty drinking ones, up and out of the way.

  Alnyx waited until the breakables weren’t in his hands anymore before reaching out and touching him. Well, the poorly tucked in part of the towel at the very least. When it fell away, Peter bent to pick it up. As if he hadn’t noticed that it didn’t slip on its own.

  “Leave it.”

  From the partially crouched position, on one knee, Alnyx’s voice did startle Peter just a little. He looked up at him, and realized quite quickly that the elf’s height and hair weren’t the only things that were impressive. The mortal’s cheeks went pink, his mouth dry when he tried to form some sort of response than “oh fuck yes.”

  “See something that is more interesting than my hair, Peter?”

  “Yes, Alnyx.”

  “Not Sir?”

  “Whatever you’d like.”

  * * *

  “I don’t suppose you can call for another bath?” felt his eyes drifting closed as Peter played with his hair.

  “If you think I’m moving anywhere before morning, you’re mad.”

  Alnyx shifted, so he was laying beside Peter now, limbs all but limp as the exhaustion crept into him.

  “You’re going to be mad about it in the morning.”

  “That’s a problem for morning Peter.” Before the elf could even suggest leaving, Peter put his arms around him. “Morning Alnyx as well. Tomorrow us. Sleep now.”