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witcher-trash · 1 year ago

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(Aiden/Lambert, game canon, washing, tenderness, hand job, dry humping, subtle "oh" moment, part of a longer work)

“Gonna wash me, wolf pup? Fuckin’ hell, they didn’t do Kaer Morhen hospitality justice in the stories.”

Lambert smirked and shoved Aiden in the shoulder. “Shut your face and sit the fuck down. I didn’t bring you here so the old man could break your back on the walls, but you went and did it anyway. I, just–sit.”

There was a new agitation in Lambert’s posture. He rubbed the back of his neck and the frown lines deepened. Shit, Aiden didn’t mean to be difficult. Just engage in their usual banter. Instead of pushing anymore, Aiden sat on the end of the bench near one of the carved drainage gutters, and placed his hands in his lap. They really were fucked. Nothing a dose of Swallow and a nap wouldn’t fix, but…

Lambert filled the bucket a little further, and Aiden heard the clatter of a ladle and the rustle of his own washkit as Lambert pawed through its contents. In the next breath, Lambert had straddled the bench, the heat of his body pressed up close, his thighs bracketing Aiden’s hips. A warm palm rested speculatively on the side of Aiden’s face, and he tilted his head back under the lightest pressure. Lambert’s touch left a phantom sensation in its wake, like light beneath Aiden’s skin, and he bit back a small, startled noise.

Aiden let the tension melt from his body as the water poured through his hair. “If all it took was a bit of building work to get this kinda treatment, I’d have picked up a mallet sooner.”

“Not like you can rely on your flirting skills. I've had better game from a bruxa.” Lambert dropped the ladle back into the bucket, and Aiden’s nostrils flared at the faint scent of soap lathering in Lambert’s palms. The feel of Lambert’s fingers pushing over his scalp sent sparks over Aiden’s shoulders and set a heaviness behind his eyes that he didn’t fight; they slipped closed with a contented sigh.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look, Lam-butt,” Aiden said softly, but the edge of mischief was missing from his tone. Lambert’s thumbs were rubbing circles at the back of his skull and it felt truly divine, until he tugged a soapy lock of hair in retribution.

"Yeah, cause I haven't heard that one a million times in the last fifty fucking years."

Lambert's hands disappeared to the ladle, pouring fresh water over Aiden's head until all the suds had vanished from his hair, and then returned with the pleasantly coarse fibres of a sponge. It wasn't from Aiden's kit, but one of Lambert's own, Aiden realised. Lambert applied a perfect pressure, sensitive scars prickled with sensathon, sore muscles relaxing to softness until the wide, practiced circles that tracked over Aiden's shoulders and neck.

Lambert worked lower, following the valley of Aiden's spine to the small of his back. A gasp pushed past Aiden's lips as Lambert reached the crest of his arse, sensitive skin rippling with pleasure. His cock had been slow to show interest, although it sat half hard between his thighs from the feel of Lambert's hands in his hair, but the intimate touch quickened his pulse. Aiden felt his heart thump in his chest, and spread his thighs to ease the tension between his legs.

There was no point hiding. Lambert would rib him. Aiden had woken up hard before, and his body reacted so readily to simple touches; a palm at the small of his back, a pat on his knee. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him without payment, and even then it was cursory and professional. Nothing more than what needed to be done. Lambert's touches were lingering, leaving behind that same blushing light in Aiden's skin, and Aiden felt a swell of jittery energy build in his stomach.

As Lambert leaned forward to run the sponge beneath Aiden's arms, following the curve of his bicep and elbow down to his wrist, Aiden felt the heat of Lambert's chest press to his back. This close, each of Lambert's shuddering breaths puffed on Aiden's damp skin, and his movements became less certain. Aiden made himself pliable, arms turning under the slightest pressure.

It was the most intimate Aiden had ever been with another person, the excitement thrummed like molten gold through his veins, but with it came a barely contained desperation. He wanted to arch into Lambert's hands, to push his body into the source of his pleasure, but he balanced on the edge. His best friend, his only friend, sat behind him holding his breath. Lambert reached the wrist of his left arm, he paused.

Knowing how close Lambert's lips were, imagining how they would feel against his shoulder, like a brand, so powerful they would leave a mark, Aiden's cock was completely hard. It strained upward against his stomach, Aiden's thighs flexing as he felt Lambert's answering interest pressing to the cleft of his arse.

"Aiden…" Lambert implored, his voice rough. He leaned his forehead to the back of Aiden's shoulder, and Aiden felt the flutter of his eyelashes as his eyes closed. The sponge fell away from Aiden's arm, sloshing into the bucket, and Lambert's soapy hands rested, shaking, at Aiden's hips.

They sat in stillness, their bodies hot and twitching, until Aiden reached for Lambert's hands and moved them gently to his chest, pushing strong fingers beneath curves of firm muscle.

Lambert sucked in a sharp breath. Aiden felt the flicker of those long lashes again, and a very pensive, "Yeah?"

A lot hung in the question. A single word. They weren't good with words, not when they were weighted with meaning. Sure, Lambert could spit vitriol and anger and Aiden had a sassy clapback for most one-liners, but this was different. When it mattered, they were both men of action, their bodies speaking for them when their mouths failed, but Aiden could force one more free from the pressure in his chest. "Yeah," he rasped, and then, for good measure, "Please."

Lambert gripped with a bone-deep groan. He shifted a little closer and circled his hands over Aiden's chest. Soap-slick palms pressed firmly, curious fingers wandering over Aiden's perked nipples and punching a gasp from Aiden's throat. His cock flicked enthusiastically when Lambert returned for another pass, and then again at the first kiss against the back of his shoulder.

Aiden arched into the massage over his chest, throbs of pleasure coiling in his groin. His head flopped back, his hips twitching as Lambert's hands swept down his abdomen to the soft skin of his inner thighs. Lambert tucked his chin over Aiden's shoulder and gazed down the slope of his body, pushing Aiden's legs apart. "Fuck, Lambert," Aiden gasped, burning with the need for Lambert to touch his prick. "Lambert, please."

Tender fingers curled beneath the heft of his balls and then followed the seam to the thick base of his cock. The warm circle of Lambert's grip made Aiden's hips buck, the curling pressure in his belly threatening to split him at the seams. Aiden panted as Lambert stroked his shaft, his grip perfect, motions slow and slick. He paused only to play across Aiden's cockhead, sliding the foreskin back and forth with a shuddering breath of excitement.

No one had ever touched Aiden with such reverence, their body humming in responsive pleasure against his own. Lambert was shivering with barely contained energy, like he had knocked back a Thunderbolt and hadn't expended it. His hand still working on Aiden's cock, Lambert poured clean water down Aiden's chest, washing away the soap suds clinging to Aiden's skin.

Aiden nearly whined when Lambert's hands left, followed by the absence of his body heat. He wandered to Aiden's front and Aiden's eyes settled on Lambert's full cock, standing tall from the dark curls of hair at his groin. Lambert was stunningly beautiful, his face open and desperately vulnerable, his body glistening in the low light of the springs. When he pushed a hand to Aiden's chest, Aiden fell back easily, his sore hands taking Lambert's waist as he leaned over.

Their first kiss was breathlessly gentle. Aiden had watched those lips for years, full, plush, shamelessly expressive. They were soft, so soft, and parted nervously for the tease of Aiden's tongue. Aiden could feel Lambert shaking, his body rocking between assertiveness and anxiety, unsure but desperate to proceed. So Aiden kissed him deeper, letting the pressure out in a low, longing moan that made Lambert gasp.

Aiden's hands slid down to bring their hips together and rock up, fingers sliding to grip Lambert's arse and urge him into a long, slow thrust. Lambert's arms shook, his grip white-knuckled on the edge of the bench. Aiden could feel the soft skin of Lambert's inner thighs against his hips, Lambert so exposed, so intimately bare, that it stole his breath away.

The slick, velvet-soft slide of their pricks was perfect, desperate, barely coordinated, everything; the weight of Lambert's balls pressed to the base of Aiden's prick, hot and tight. "You're close," Aiden whispered when their lips parted, his tone wondrous rather than teasing, as he rubbed his stubbled jaw against Lambert's beard. "Fuck, you're so close."

Lambert's head lifted and Aiden stared into glistening eyes, bottomless pupils ringed in a tiny lip of bright yellow. "You…" Lambert tried, his voice thick in his throat.

And suddenly, with a sharp clarity, Aiden realised why Lambert had wanted him here. In his eyes, Aiden saw the raw vulnerability wreathed with pleasure and relief. He had feared rejection and so he had brought Aiden to his home, hoping to find strength to take the final few steps.

Aiden had foolishly mistaken Lambert's hesitance for disinterest. Not unfriendly, but a boundary. A temporary one, by the gods, and Aiden wanted to give Lambert the world, because he had wasted so much time thinking he wasn't good enough. "Tell me what you need," Aiden said, his words like syrup in his mouth, thick and so sweet. He had never expected to ask Lambert, not like this, not with him so gloriously strung out.

A soft moan broke through Lambert's long, beleaguered exhale, and Aiden's grip tightened on Lambert's arse, urging him on. Lambert canted his hips info Aiden's grip and Aiden interpreted as best he could. Or rather, he caved to his own desire to touch, to feel Lambert everything Lambert kept guarded, and brushed his fingertips over the soft rim of Lambert's hole. The reward was another quiet moan, so Aiden continued to rub and circle as Lambert thrust their cocks together, but it was clear what Lambert yearned for.

#fave

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