Dressed in a new polo and calf length shorts, Jeff leaned against the bar at the back of Masamune’s. The restaurant, which had been carved out of two renovated row homes, was flooded with the smell of tex-mex asian fusion dishes. It was somewhere he had been meaning to try out. He tried to look cool while waiting for Basa to arrive and felt like he was half accomplishing that. 
His legs were bouncing on the stool, his energy level high on expectations. Not just of dinner, but the approaching date. This was going to be their third evening together, they were even going to go back to Basa’s place. Maybe the two of them would get further than second base. Jeff was really looking forward to it, honestly.
“What’ll you have, friend?”
He turned to face a dusky voice and was faced with an elf dressed in the staff uniform of black t-shirts and khaki shorts. They were willowy, but kind of solid at the same time. Their build said they had probably were a fighter. Bruce Lee’s name floated through Jeff’s mind as the bartender shifted their weight back and forth on powerful looking legs. 
Affixing him with eyes that glowed a brilliant purple the elf raised a pale blue eyebrow and quirked teal painted lips. “Well? Want a drink, or were you just going to drink me?”
“Oh! Sorry...Yeah, I’m meeting my date here for dinner. I’m just a little early.” 
In the half light of the bar, he could not help but notice that the elf was covered from head to toe in intricate, curving tattoos. Mostly because the vine-like lines glowed the same hue as their eyes and with enough power to show through the t-shirt. It was then Jeff realized both that the elf was a woman from the way the sigils flowed down her torso and that she was also not wearing a bra since every inch of tattoo was visible.
“Well, I’m Ambrin,” she said, putting a coaster down on the polished wood with a clack that pulled his attention to it. “Can I get you something while you wait for your date?
“Um…” He scratched at his recently trimmed beard. “What do you have on tap?” 
She turned and walked towards the far end of the bar. As she stepped under one of the overhead lights, he felt himself gulp involuntarily. He had never seen an elf with even close to the same skin tone. It was like her flesh was sandstone from the way the ruddy red sparkled. She had to be part fire drake or maybe even some kind of demon to have that kind of complexion. Though she did not seem to have a tail, her butt was pretty nice in the shorts. 
After a brief moment, she returned. “Okay, I’ve got Dogshead Pale Ale, Dogshead Black, Wild Griffin’s Summer Brew, Fire and Spice, and...Ellerift Twilight is still on from last month since there is a little left.”
He ordered a glass of Ellerift and handed her more than enough. A moment later he was sipping foam over the curved lip of the glass and watching the door. Across the rim, he saw Basa walking towards him with a smile on his long, pointed face. Like last time, his hair was cut very tight to his scalp.
A self-proclaimed chimera, Basa was mostly human with a couple other things mixed in. Some of it was parentage. Some were experiments.There was no way to know where his pointed ears came from. So many of the mystic races had that trait. That his deep brown skin shimmered with a touch of silver pretty much confirmed some Shadowkin in his background though.
The small, dish-like antlers were probably the biggest outlier to all of it. While the left one had been snapped off because of an accident in his youth, the other held up a brilliant golden halo. Jeff was not sure if the ring of light was real or just an accessory. Asking seemed rude, but there was a certain excitement about his partner potentially being the son of an angel.
When the conversation turned to Basa’s appearance on their first date, he had joked about being an orc in the sheets to sort of break the ice. Jeff had not understood. Sure, the mage was statuesque in his build, but that level of athleticism was hardly limited to one race. His genes might give him a boost, but anyone with the dedication could get more built. 
However, after getting to second base last time, Jeff now had a pretty good idea what being an orc in the sheets meant. His date was hung. So very, very hung. It had felt like a zucchini was stuffed in Basa’s boxer briefs when he was brave enough to slip his hand down his date’s pants while they made out in the bathroom of some club. The feeling of that huge dong pushing against his hand through straining cotton had stuck with Jeff all week.