The Elf And Shoemaker

by M. L. Rhodes

  "With this."

  Logan's hands patted Hallan's in the dark and discovered he held two small vials. "What is it?"

  "It'll put us to sleep and put us in the dream."

  "How long will we sleep?"

  "About an hour. I don't have a lot of time here tonight, Logan. It was difficult for me to get away. I've had guards breathing down my neck for the past six days because they were suspicious the last time I was here. If I don't get back before someone discovers I'm gone..."

  "Guards? Are you in danger?" The thought set his heart tripping.

  "Let's just say if I'm not there when I'm supposed to be, I may not..." His voice caught.

  "Oh, God...you might not be able to come back for a very different reason."

  "Yes. That's why I thought of the dreaming potion. My time here is limited, but in the dream it will feel like we have longer."

  "Then let's do it. I want all the time I can get with you."

  "Here's yours."

  Logan took the tiny vial by feel and discovered a miniature cork in the end of it.

  "We'll drink it, then lie down."

  "How long will it take to kick in?"

  "Kick in?"

  "To start working."

  "Not long. A few minutes at most."

  "Well, let's snuggle under the covers then. It's fricking cold in here and I don't want to come back to our bodies and have them be ice cubes."

  That brought a soft huff of laughter in the dark, and the quiet sound went straight to Logan's heart.

  "All right, drink up, then we'll get comfortable," Hallan said.

  Logan pried the little stopper off and held the vial up in front of him, though he couldn't see it. "Cheers."

  "Cheers?"

  "It's a salute humans say before drinking, usually before drinking alcoholic beverages. You could also say, 'Bottoms up.' Of course that could...um...be taken more than one way."

  Another warm laugh from Hallan rippled through him and this time shot straight to his groin, no doubt in part from the possessive hand squeezing his ass.

  "And if I ask"--Hallan nipped at his lower lip, his voice a soft growl--"will I get to see a demonstration? Of you, bottoms up?"

  Sensual heat flooded Logan in shimmering waves at the picture that created in his mind. "Maybe if you ask nicely. Or...even not so nicely."

  "I'm going to hold you to that." Hallan's voice was hot and deep and pure seduction.

  Logan shuddered with need. "Then let's not waste any more time." He clinked his vial against Hallan's, lifted it to his lips, and swallowed the honey-like liquid. He felt Hallan do the same.

  Then Logan crawled off his lap and scooted over in the full-sized bed, patting the empty spot next to him. Hallan slid in beside him, raised the covers up over them both, and pulled Logan into his arms.

  "I was hoping to get you back into my bed," Logan said. "But I wasn't planning for us to be fully dressed when it happened."

  "We can take care of that easily enough when we're on the dream plane."

  Logan smiled at the thought of seeing Hallan stripped to his skin. "Where are we going for this dream? Will it look like here or somewhere else?"

  "Where do you want to go?"

  "Someplace warm," Logan said, snuggling closer, starting to feel the first curls of misty sleepiness slide through his veins.

  "We can do that."

  "The passion oil you left...that stuff was amazing. I sold all four bottles already. Thank you. I mean, really thank you."

  "You're welcome. I brought more supplies with me. I'll make more tonight before I leave."

  "I don't want you to feel like you have to do that," Logan protested. He was so, so grateful for Hallan's help--he'd actually paid the electric bill online tonight before the power went out--a little irony there...he paid it and it went out anyway--and he still had a little cash left over to grocery shop this weekend. But he didn't want Hallan to feel like he had to make more of the oil just to...to buy Logan's happiness or something.

  "I want to do it." Hallan's hands stroked his back, soothing him closer to sleep. "I love being able to help you, and it gives me a chance to do what I enjoy."

  "So what is it with you and these potions...the passion oil, this stuff tonight. How do you know so much about these things?" His body was growing heavy, relaxed. The fingers of sleep crept nearer.

  "Because that's what I do, who I am. I'm a potion master... the... potion... master."

  The words registered in Logan's mind, and then sleep, in her dark, gentle beauty, encompassed him.

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Logan came awake to the sensation of glorious heat seeping into his body. Not too much, just right. Eyes still closed, he reached over his head in a comfortable, lazy stretch. Blades of grass tickled his fingers, and his eyes opened to find tree-dappled sunlight shining down on him from an azure sky flecked with wispy white clouds

  He sat up and pulled off his socks so he could wiggle his toes in the grass, enjoying the feel of it, the scent.

  Looking up, he soaked in the secluded green meadow with the huge silver-leafed tree at its center. And then his gaze settled on a sight that filled him with heady warmth. Warmth that had nothing to do with the sunny day.

  He stood and padded across the thick grass. "The potion master?"

  The tall figure dressed in knee-high leather boots, a shirt and pants of the darkest green, with long, glistening hair the color of sunlight itself turned to face him. A dimpled smile lit up the elf's ivory-smooth, finely sculpted face from within, curving his sensual lips and igniting a heated twinkle in his amethyst eyes.

  The sight stole Logan's air. His heart slowed to a heavy throb that he felt in every vein. And all he could do for long seconds was stare and soak up the beauty.

  "Do you need a potion?" The velvety voice he'd come to know so well brushed over his senses.

  "Hallan," he breathed, not sure where he found the oxygen to get it out.

  And then Hallan's arms were around him. His mouth covered Logan's with a kiss that curled Logan's toes deep into the soft earth, had his own arms encircling the elf's waist, and pulled soft little moans up out of his throat over which he had no control.

  One of Hallan's hands sank lower, to take possession once again of his ass, squeezing through his sweatpants. The other joined it. When both hands cupped Logan's cheeks and lifted him, Logan wrapped his legs around the lean hips and his arms around his lover's neck, never breaking the kiss. Because it had become crystal clear to him that he needed it to breathe. Needed this man to live, to truly live.

  They were moving, long steps across the meadow to the tree. Hallan knelt, cradling Logan's backside, and with Logan's legs still clutched around him, laid him on the springy ground. He leaned over him, devouring his mouth in sweet, probing lashes of tongue, and pressing the welcome ridge of his desire into Logan's groin. He pulled away only long enough to drag Logan's sweatshirt over his head, and then his mouth was back, nipping at his lips, lapping his tongue along his jaw line, teasing the tip of it into his ear until Logan thrashed beneath him.

  He rose again, backlit in the sunlight, which created a golden halo around him that shimmered as he moved. He slid Logan's pants and boxers down his legs and off. The grass, in the shade of the tree, was cool against Logan's heated skin, and smelled somehow fresher and greener than any he'd ever remembered. The sky was bluer, too, the color richer. Or maybe it was all because of the ethereally beautiful man kneeling between his legs, gazing down at him with such rapt fascination and desirous heat in his eyes that Logan thought he might implode from the sheer, emotional intensity of it. He couldn't even speak. All he could do was lie there and stare up at him, wanting him with every fiber of his being.

  And then Hallan was removing his belt, pulling off his own shirt, boots, pants.

  Logan's heart lodged in his throat. What he'd thought was beautiful before had been merely a taste, a teasing hint, of the full, dazzling reality that was Hal
lan Greystone unclothed. His mouth went dry. He held out his arms, saying without words that he needed this man to complete him.

  Hallan caught Logan's right hand, and with a fleeting smile, kissed his knuckles near the silver ring. "You're wearing it," he said softly, his eyes shining.

  "Is...is that okay?"

  "It's more than okay. I'd hoped you would."

  "The silver is strange. It seems to fit perfectly whatever finger I put it on."

  Hallan smiled. "That's because it's not silver. The metal is called elorium. It's extremely rare. It was mined thousands of years ago in another land. It fits whatever finger you put it on because elorium conforms to its wearer. This ring was a gift from my mother, passed down from her father, and so forth, from the age of elves across the sea. The stone is a symbol of the potion masters."

  "I shouldn't be wearing it then," Logan said quickly, pulling it off his finger. "It's way, way too precious, and it's a family heirloom." He held it out for Hallan, his finger feeling bare now without it, and a part of his heart breaking at its loss. For a short while it had given him a connection to Hallan even when they were apart.

  Hallan took it, but he kissed Logan's knuckles again, then slid the ring back onto his finger and closed his hands over the top of it. "It's exactly where it supposed to be right here."

  "Hallan--"

  He pressed a finger to Logan's lips. "I want you to wear it. I like seeing it on you. Like knowing it's there."

  How could he argue when Hallan looked at him that way...so full of passion and heat and intensity? His heart seemed to swell inside him.

  Hallan leaned down, his hands on the ground on either side of Logan, and held Logan with his hungry, churning gaze. "You need to know that I'm in love with you, Logan," he said, his voice husky. "I've been in love with you for a long time."

  His hands shaking, Logan caressed his cheek, filled with wonder. "How?"

  "The mirror in your kitchen. It's called an elf glass. I have its mate hanging on the wall in my rooms. It's a window between our worlds. I couldn't come through until you asked for help, but I could see you, hear you."

  "Oh, God," he breathed. "For how long?"

  "When did you hang the mirror?"

  "Last spring, maybe nine months ago. You've been watching all that time?"

  "For me it was over two years ago. I never meant to invade your privacy. It started off as curiosity because we don't have many humans in Lamerion--"

  "Lamerion?"

  "My world. This world." He looked around the meadow, then back down at Logan. "But the more I watched, the more I was drawn to you--your smile, your sense of humor, your gentleness, your passion, the way you talk to your mouse-creature. I started to care. When you were happy, I was happy. When you hurt, I hurt. And then...then I couldn't stop watching, because I was in love with you."

  "I don't know how, but...I think I knew," Logan murmured, rubbing the pads of his index and middle fingers over Hallan's lips. "The mirror... I think I felt you watching. I didn't know it was you, but I'd be mesmerized by it, just staring into it sometimes, feeling...God, this sounds so stupid, but comforted by it."

  Hallan dipped his head and kissed Logan's fingertips.

  "Why couldn't I see you?" Logan asked.

  "It only works one way." Hallan said it with such regret it made Logan's chest ache even more. "There were times I felt so guilty for watching you, wanting you when I knew you didn't even realize I existed."

  "Except somehow, I think I did. It explains so much, Hallan. When you came through it the other night, when we... I've never, ever let anyone be that intimate with me so quickly. I just don't do that. And it wasn't because I'd had too much to drink. I trusted you. You felt familiar, like..."

  "Like we fit together perfectly and had been lovers for ages," Hallan finished for him.

  "Exactly like that." Logan's lungs compressed, squeezing, painful. "Oh, God, Hallan...I just found you. I don't want to lose you. What are we going to do? If I can't see you and you're in some kind of danger for coming to visit me..."

  "Shhh..." Hallan's lips skimmed over his, then up to flutter over his eyes. "It'll be okay."

  "How? How will it be okay?"

  His eyes darkened with worry, but determination glimmered within the jeweled depths. "I don't know. But we'll find a way to make it okay. Because I don't want to lose you either. I won't lose you," he said fiercely.

  His lips found the sensitive hollow at Logan's throat, sucking and pulling, making Logan squirm and moan, then moved back up to cover Logan's mouth in a kiss that Logan could describe no other way than a branding. It was as if he wanted to imprint himself on Logan so deeply, stake his claim so unequivocally, that by sheer dint of will alone, he'd force the universe to bend to his desires.

  Logan bent to them as well, lost in the powerful sensations of Hallan's worshipful attention. As he lay sprawled in the grass, nude, fully exposed to his elf lover and quivering with passion beneath what could be the Tree of Life itself, he felt like one of the Pagan gods of old, taking nourishment from nature and sensuality, rooted in the dark nurturing comfort of the ground, and spread open to receive the seed that would allow him to burst with life.

  Hallan kissed over what felt like every inch of his body, sometimes licking, sometimes suckling, and other times devouring until Logan throbbed. No skin was left untouched, no intimate nook off limits. He seemed determined to possess every atom that made Logan who he was. Logan tingled in some places, burned with a ready flame in others, and hurt so good in others still. His cock lay hard against his stomach, twitching and leaking whenever Hallan's hands and mouth came close to swipe over the head, lick down its length, draw his balls into the hot pressure of his mouth, stroke until Logan cried out for more, then aching when he moved away to explore something else.

  Just when he thought he could take no more, Hallan turned him over, so his swollen nipples and his overly-sensitive shaft were both cushioned and abraded in the cool grass.

  Hallan lavished his backside with the same intensity and determination he'd done the front. His hands were warm, rubbing into muscles on his back Logan hadn't even realized were tense until Hallan worked them free. Then he moved to his legs...calves, thighs, and as he began to get close to the places that still ached for his touch, he'd pull away, teasing. His clever fingers dug into Logan's gluts, letting a finger slip into his crease just often enough to make him twitch or whimper in response. He followed the massage with his mouth, kissing, biting, sucking the globes of his buttocks until Logan was sure he'd have hickeys everywhere, and loving the thought of it. When Hallan's tongue slid between his cheeks, he bucked.

  But when Hallan grasped his hips and pulled Logan onto his knees with his head pressed to the grass and his butt up in the air, then sat back to simply stare, slow, soul-wracking shudders began in Logan. The longer Hallan's heated gaze bore into him, the harder he shook.

  "So beautiful," Hallan rasped, and Logan could only imagine what he must look like, his skin winter pale with Hallan's marks no doubt blooming in red against it, and exposed and waiting in eager anticipation of whatever Hallan might want to do with him.

  The elf trailed one fingertip down his crack. "You're quivering. Right here." The fingertip lightly touched Logan's hole, causing Logan to jump and let out a ragged groan.

  "Do you remember the other night, how you loved having me touch you here?" Hallan's voice dropped to a throaty whisper. "You begged me, Logan. Do you remember?"

  Another groan wrenched free and spilled over his lips. "Yes."

  "'I want you inside me,' you said. 'Please, will you fuck me?'" He teased a finger over Logan's opening again. "Do you remember?"

  "Hal...Hallan...please," he moaned.

  "That's right, just like that."

  His finger pressed to Logan's anus again, this time wet, and rubbed light circles against the sensitive flesh. "Say it again." The low command oozed with sensuality that sent new flashes of heat through Logan's body, like miniat
ure explosions of fireworks.

  "Please. Hallan please!"

  Warm, moist breath fluttered over Logan's sensitive skin down there. "Again."

  "Please! God!"

  The first touch of tongue nearly sent Logan off the ground. But when Hallan pressed his cheeks apart and delved into him with masterful ardor, burrowing his tongue deep, swirling wet circles, plunging, probing, licking, sucking like he fully intended to eat him out until Logan orgasmed from the sheer, blinding pleasure of mouth on ass alone, hard, shuddering swells began to rock through his body.

  "Oh God....oh...oh God!" His fingers dug into the grass, and he rocked his ass back against Hallan, begging for whatever his lover would give.

  Hallan's mouth moved down, nuzzling and sucking at his sac, then back up to rim him again.

  Logan's mind shut down as the bliss just kept on coming. His body felt like an electrical conduit and Hallan's mouth at his core was lightning, striking over and over, sending new bolts of heat through him, each one piggy-backing on the next, until his body spasmed uncontrollably.

  Hallan paused, and Logan protested, begged. Until his lover pushed his cheeks apart even farther, stretching him open...then all he could do was moan. The breeze licked against his wet flesh. His ass trembled, clenching, empty as hell.

  "Please!" he sobbed. "Please, I can't take anymore. I need you in me, Hallan!"

  Hot, blessed pressure pushed against his hole. "Anything you want, love."

  The sweet words almost undid Logan. As Hallan's cock stretched his opening, he thrust back against it, impaling himself on it to the very root. They both cried out. Hallan's fingers dug into his hips. He pushed in even farther, and they cried out again, long and drawn out, a paean to lust and love .

  When he began to move, Hallan's powerful thrusts caused stars to burst behind Logan's eyes, over and over in slow explosions. He filled Logan so full and deep it felt like the crown of him was lodged against his soul. His hands, stroking his back and hips, shook, and Logan knew he was in no better shape. He couldn't stop his body from trembling. Couldn't stop it from lunging back against his lover either.