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Lambert is making his way down the hallway at a snail's pace. He knows Kaer Morhen like the back of his hand, so it's not entirely uncommon to see him navigate the keep with an open book in his hands, deep in thought.
It's an old journal he found out on the path this year, worn and weathered, written in a dead dialect and with terrible penmanship. Hardly anyone would bother to look twice at it, which naturally means that Lambert finds it absolutely fascinating. He's so engrossed into its owner's gibberish field notes, that he doesn't notice Eskel approach him at all.
The older witcher hadn't even tried to be sneaking up on him and yet Lambert startles somewhat terribly when he's suddenly hugged from behind. Lambert curses. It's loud and profound and makes Eskel chuckle, the sound so close to Lambert's ear that it has him shivering. "Apologies, little one, I didn't mean to startle you." Lambert can hear the smile in Eskel's voice and tilts his head back to glare at the other witcher. "Fuck off," he huffs out and watches somewhat annoyed as Eskel's smile only grows. His heart is still thundering inside his chest from the scare, when he meets Eskel's eyes and it decides to do these weird little flips inside his chest.
This... thing between them is still terribly new and half of the time Lambert has no idea how to react to any of the... things he's been feeling around the other man. He'd never admit it out loud of course, but Lambert is immensely grateful for the fact that out of the two of them at least Eskel seems to know what he's doing. Like now, for example, as Lambert becomes aware of their close proximity and his thoughts and feelings start to jump through his body and mind until they tangle up into one big, wriggly mess, Eskel knows to tighten his arms around Lambert and buries his nose in the curly locks of his hair. His breath hitches and he raises his free hand up to hold onto Eskel's arms. It's in these moments that he remembers just how much bigger Eskel is. Like this, he's entirely engulfed by the older man's body. His back is pressed so tightly against Eskel's front that he can feel him breathe, can feel the heat radiating off of him and seep under his own skin.
Eskel makes him feel small and every time it happens his stomach flutters and his knees grow just a tiny bit weak. Lambert's voice stutters traitorously as he tries to regain control over himself by asking, "What are you doing?"
Eskel rubs his nose against the side of his head and hums full of content, " Enjoying you. "
Heat rises up to his cheeks and he shudders noticeably in Eskel's arms. Out of instinct Lambert starts to protest, tries to break free or at least turn in Eskel's arms so he can scowl at the witcher for his stupid joke, but the other doesn't budge. Not an inch.
"Eskel- Eskel, come on, this isn't funny."
"Sweet little Lams, is it so far fetched that I just want to be close to you, now that I finally can?" It's a wonder, really, how easily Eskel finds all the right words. He makes it sound so blatantly simple and obvious that Lambert's mind is given no chance to argue against it. Not that he really wants to anymore, not with Eskel pressing soft kisses against his hair and temple and one of his hands sneaking to where his sweater has started to ride up and expose the skin just above his hips.
“You're being embarrassing,” Lambert grumbles as he simultaneously leans further into the embrace. “What if somebody sees?” Eskel chuckles in return. It's deep and growly, coming from the back of his throat and it makes Lambert fucking whimper. “You always worry so much, Lambert. Do you really think I'd let anyone else see you like this?” His fingertips graze along Lambert's milky skin, spreading goosebumps across his hips and stomach. They wander down, dip underneath the hem of his pants and follow the V-shaped line until Eskel's hand comes to rest just above the base of his cock. Lambert, helplessly gasping Eskel's name, feels his whole body twitching. Little shock waves zap down his thighs, make his stomach squirm and shiver. “You're so soft for me, Lam, so incredibly sensitive.” To make his point, the older man caresses Lambert's skin, growling from deep withing his throat when a desperate mewl escapes Lambert's lip. “All just for me, isn't that right, little one? You're mine now, aren't you?”
And really, there's no answer needed, not with the way Lambert's cheeks flush bright red as he tries to hide his face in the crook of Eskel's neck. Still, he breathes out a tiny, wobbly “Yes” and lets go of the journal to grasp the arm around his shoulders with both of his hands, clinging to the older witcher like Eskel is the only thing able to keep him afloat. “No one will get to see you like this, until you're ready, little one. You don't have to worry about anything, I will always be there to protect you, you just have to your sweet little self, alright? Be a good little pup for me.”
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