Page 22 of The Elves and the Shoemaker (The GriMM Tales #4)

Seventeen

Henrik

H

enrik blinked in surprise, taking in his surroundings. He could hardly believe what Johan was suggesting.

Although small and in need of cleaning, the cabin would have enough space for the three of them to sleep and a little left over to provide a modest kitchen/dining area. While not much to look at right now, Henrik could see the potential.

Glancing behind him back through the front door, Henrik eyed the clearing critically.

There was more than enough space to gradually build themselves a larger dwelling, especially with both the elves’ using magic to assist. There was arguably enough space to build themselves a workshop, too, as a means to earn money when they needed it.

Henrik was hopeful, an unfamiliar feeling to the elf who had lived so much of his life always braced for the next blow.

Grief sat heavy in the room, though. Henrik was sure that Johan had rarely, if ever, visited this place since his parents had died. He stepped closer and took Johan’s hand in his own, squeezing it in a way he hoped said “I’m here, we’re both here for you.”

“Do you think we will be safe here?” Henrik asked.

“Safer,” Johan replied.

“What about the shop? Your home?” Elias asked.

“Just a… a building. Homes can change.”

Henrik’s heart threatened to escape his chest at that. He feared that Johan might live to regret all he was willing to give up for Henrik and Elias and knew he could never possibly repay Johan for all he had done. The imbalance was an anvil in Henrik’s stomach.

“We can’t ask you to do that, Johan. It’s your home, your livelihood,” Henrik argued.

“You didn’t ask. My choice,” Johan said, looking a little cross with Henrik.

For some reason, where Henrik often took great joy in poking Elias until he bit, Johan being annoyed with him had a very different effect.

He wanted to make the look on his face go away, tuck his tail between his legs and seek reassurance that it was fleeting and not a disappointment that would fester into resentment.

Before Henrik could truly spiral, however, Elias interjected, “No offense to your little hunting shack, but I think we might need to build something a bit larger if we’re to stay here long-term.”

Johan didn’t reply, but his expression shifted into a sad yet indulgent smile for Elias, who began poking his nose into everything he could find in the room like a puppy in search of some ham.

The wooden chair by the window creaked when Johan took a seat. He cleared the dusty glass with his shirt sleeve, gazing out at the dark starlit sky.

Stealing a moment, Henrik approached him and asked, pointing at Johan’s lap, “May I?” He nodded and smiled. Henrik straddled him on the chair so they were face-to-face, and Johan kissed him adoringly on the tip of his nose.

We’re okay. He’s not angry with me. Henrik’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“You are sure?” he murmured.

Johan didn’t reply verbally; he took Henrik’s hand and held it over his heart, where Henrik could feel the steady beat beneath his palm.

Momentarily interrupting the moment, Elias announced, “I’m going to take a proper look outside so I can develop the vision,” before sauntering back out the front door and leaving them alone.

Henrik and Johan both chuckled at their ridiculous lover.

“It’s a big change living out here. It might even be hard to make a living without giving away our location,” Henrik said.

“I like it out here. Peaceful. Safe. Will find a way.” Johan wrapped his powerful arms around Henrik, pulling him close.

“You are as stubborn as Elias when you want to be, do you know that?”

“You must have a type.” Johan laughed softly.

Henrik closed the small gap and kissed his stubborn shoemaker on the lips.

“Gods, seeing you two together makes my balls hurt, it cannot be healthy,” Elias said from the doorway. He wandered over to them and stood behind Henrik, hooking his head on his shoulder. “Feel how hard I am.” He pressed his groin into Henrik’s back where he was indeed as stiff as a rod.

“How is that possible? It’s freezing!” Henrik said in disbelief.

“I might have helped it along with a little tug.” Elias waggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner.

“Can I… try something?” Johan asked.

“Anything,” they both replied.

“Within reason,” Henrik added.

Johan looked around the dusty room before adding, “When we get back?”

“You big tease!” Elias bemoaned. “You would leave me in this condition?”

Johan just stood, helping Henrik back to his feet before guiding them both back out the door.

On the walk home, Elias took to guessing what Johan wanted to try, which led to the larger man either smirking or blushing furiously. Both of which Henrik found incredibly endearing.

“Do you want to try and see how tight I can squeeze my thighs together and push yourself between them?” It was actually one of Elias’ less-crude suggestions, and rather than blushing, Johan appeared to consider it before shrugging with a mischievous smile.

“Not… tonight,” he said.

Henrik couldn’t deny that the endless ideas Elias had come up with during their walk home had left him a bit hot under the collar, and it was a welcome distraction from why they were out here in the first place.

Elias was good at that. He often found ways of getting Henrik out of his own head so he couldn’t spiral too much about things outside of his control.

By the time they clambered back over the wall and tumbled through the back door, Johan and Elias had wound each other up so much that Johan carried the smaller elf up the stairs with their lips fused together and hands roaming everywhere.

Henrik enjoyed the view of them together. He remained fully clothed as he watched them undress each other frantically. With every item of clothing removed, lips found bare skin and licked and sucked wherever they landed.

It was desire, Henrik thought. Desire for the body, yes, but also desire for connection in a moment where they feared for their future.

When they were both completely naked, Johan sank to his knees before Elias and gazed up at him.

“What do you want?” Elias asked, threading his slim fingers through Johan’s hair.

Johan looked over at Henrik, eyes begging for what he wanted, and Henrik wondered if Johan had access to magic himself, because it was as though the words were being shouted into his head.

Henrik undressed slowly as he walked to join them. He left his breeches on, though, and barely stifled a laugh at Johan’s disgruntled expression.

“You’d like to put your mouth on us both, is that right? You want to know what it feels like when Elias’ cock hits the back of your throat, stealing your air for a moment?” Henrik asked.

Johan closed his eyes and whimpered, nodding his head.

“That’s what you wanted to try? This?” Elias held his cock out, tapping the reddened tip against Johan’s lips until he opened up and licked the bead of precum from the head.

Henrik finally undid his breeches and was about to stroke himself to his full length, but Johan dived for him, then started gobbling up his semi-soft cock like he was just too hungry to wait.

The elf’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

While unskilled, Johan’s mouth was warm, wet, and enthusiastic.

Elias lazily stroked himself as he watched Johan, his dark eyes flooded with desire. Johan shifted and took Henrik in hand as he turned his attention back to Elias.

Henrik loved how quickly Johan had learned what Elias liked best, bypassing his length at first and tonguing and sucking on Elias’ balls until he moaned.

Reaching out to take Elias’ hand and interlock their fingers, Henrik grunted in surprise when Johan’s mouth was suddenly wrapped around his cockhead again.

Using his other hand, Henrik carded his fingers through Johan’s hair, and the large shoemaker went pliant under his touch. It was a heady experience for Henrik.

Alternating his efforts, Johan would get one of them close to the edge before swapping to the other, until saliva dripped down his chin and the two elves were trembling with the need for release.

Johan worshipped Henrik with his mouth. Put aside his fears of not being good enough, not being skilled enough, and did everything he could to bring Henrik more pleasure than he could handle.

“Gods, Johan. Your tongue… Yes. Right… there.” Without meaning to, Henrik gripped Johan’s hair and kept him in place until he erupted onto Johan’s tongue.

Henrik was still shaking from his orgasm as he watched Johan turn to face Elias with his mouth open and his tongue out as Elias furiously stroked himself to completion.

“You beautiful, filthy man, kjaere. I. Love. It.” Elias grunted before his own cum spurted out, landing on Johan’s waiting tongue, his chin, and his cheeks.

The shoemaker’s lips were rosy and swollen, cum painted his face, and he looked happier and more at peace than Henrik had ever seen him. Elias was right, Johan was a beautiful, filthy man and Henrik was falling hard for him.

O

ver the next several days, or nights, rather, the three of them began sneaking out of the shop before the sun rose with as much as they could carry, moving their belongings to what they hoped would be their new home and a safe haven away from the Queen’s watchful eye.

During the day, they took it in turns to sleep while two of them minded the shop. Henrik desperately missed spending his nights curled up with Johan and Elias, but he knew this would be worth it in the end.

They couldn’t afford to sleep during the night, sure that if the Queen’s men were to act, it would be under the cover of darkness, so the three of them remained vigilant from sunset to sunup.

Exhausted from broken sleep, suddenly becoming nocturnal, and the fear that if they didn’t move fast enough the Queen would strike at them like a waiting python had Henrik and Elias sniping at each other more than usual.