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Lambert groaned. His head was hurting like a bitch, as he tried to open his eyes. He was in a bed. That was always a nice surprise but he also felt like he’d been walloped by a giant. He winced as his eyes blinked open, the light of the room blinding him, causing the entire room to spin.
“Oh fuck,” he grunted, the words hoarse and cracked. He tried to sit up but there was a hand on his shoulder, pinning him to the mattress.
“I wouldn’t do that, sweetheart.”
Aiden.
He groaned again, running his hands through his hair and covering his eyes as he collapsed back down onto the pillow. “The fuck?”
“Found you half dead in the middle on the path, I heard the villagers had hired a witcher that never returned. I went to investigate. You’re lucky I did, wolf.”
“Thanks.”
Every inch of him ached and he struggled to stay awake but he was done sleeping. He thought back to what he last remembered. A contract on a griffin. It should have been easy. Why the fuck was he in such a state? He felt Aiden shift on the bed next to him and long fingers traced along his torso. He cracked one eye open and glared at the cat witcher, but he didn’t have a chance to ask what the fuck the bastard was doing. Aiden’s fingers brushed against a wound in his side that he hadn’t realised was there. He hissed in pain and flinch away from Aiden’s touch.
“Holy mother of fuck, Aiden!”
“I need to see how it’s healed.”
Lambert bit the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from crying out as Aiden tended to his wounds. He probably wouldn’t be able to ride for a couple of days.
“Shit!” he pushed Aiden aside and tried to stand up, ignoring the cat’s yells of protest. “It’s almost winter, I have to go, I need…. fuck!”
He stumbled and Aiden caught him, deceptively strong arms wrapping around his waist. Pain tore through him. A quick glance down and the fresh bandages told him he’d fucked up. Aiden hissed and guided him back to the bed.
“You are not going anywhere, you bastard. I bandaged you up once already. I can’t go through that again, wolf. I thought you were dead!” Aiden spat out, fury in his eyes. Lambert wanted to argue but there was something in Aiden’s expression that stopped him.
Instead he smirked. “Kitten? Were you worried about me?”
He knew he was right by the way Aiden’s fingers flexed, reaching for his daggers that Lambert knew were tucked somewhere upon his person. “Yes,” Aiden hissed “don’t be fucking bastard about it. I. I care about you.”
Lambert’s expression softened, a weird fluttery feeling dancing in the pit of his stomach. “I care about you too,” he grumbled.
“Good.”
“Fine.”
But that wasn’t the point. It was almost winter and if he couldn’t get to Kaer Morhen before the snow fall then he’d be trapped amongst the humans for the rest of winter. He wanted his home, his family. He got enough shit during the year, winter was his safe haven, a time where he could be himself without having to tread on eggshells. He wanted Vesemir’s freshly cooked breakfasts, he wanted the long evenings drinking with his fellow witchers. He had been looking forward to hearing the new stories about Geralt’s bard. The fool always seemed to get into trouble and it was always a good laugh. They were still waiting for Geralt to bring to idiot back to the keep. What if this was the year, and Lambert wouldn’t be there…
“I have to get home, kitten,” he admitted, as Aiden helped him stumbled back into the bed, gently fingers already fussing with the bandages. “They’ll think I’m dead.”
Aiden sighed and took Lambert’s hand. It was… nice? He hadn’t realised he wanted to hold Aiden’s hand before, but now he sort of didn’t want him to ever let go? Aiden’s fingers pressed against his wrist, and Lambert’s eyes widened. No one had ever touched him so tenderly before.
“Kitten?”
“We’ll send word to Kaer Morhen, Lambert,” Aiden’s voice was soft, almost melodic, not a voice of a witcher. “We won’t let them mourn for you.”
There was a coolness in Aiden’s eyes that Lambert didn’t understand, a tension held in his shoulders, a story untold that was clearly hurting his friend. “Sit with me?”
Aiden chuckled, giving Lambert a stupidly soft smile, one that a witcher never deserved but fuck was he already addicted. He would spend the rest of his miserable life trying to make Aiden smile like that, especially if it was directed at him. “Alright, wolf.”
Aiden slid into the bed next to him. It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed. On the occasions that they travelled together they often split the cost on the room. It was hard enough finding lodgings as one witcher but two made most humans stink of fear and they’d been turned away more often than not. Lambert gritted his teeth together, itching to shuffle closer to Aiden but… but he was afraid. Aiden had already done so much for him, and yet the prospect of not seeing his family over winter was driving him mad.
And he fucking needed a hug.
“Come here,” Aiden purred, opening his arms so that Lambert could curl up to him. It hurt his side but he didn’t care. He pressed his face into the crook of Aiden’s neck, legs entangling in a mess. He normally reserved this sort of behaviour for the wolves but it was Aiden, his kitten. He trusted him.
He loved him.
He felt his cheeks heat up and he hid his face from view. That was a confession for another time, if ever. For now he was happy to just let himself be held by his best friend, the best man he’d even known.