Chapter Text
Geralt had his doubts the moment they approached the club. He could feel the bass throbbing in his feet. “‘Chill place for a drink,’ you said?” he grumbled at Lambert, raising an eyebrow.
Lambert grinned back. “Did I?”
Geralt sighed.
Eskel shook his head and patted Geralt’s shoulder. “This is what we get for letting him plan his own bachelor party.”
“Hmm.”
“Let’s go, boys.” Lambert marched right past the end of the line, and towards the entrance marked ‘VIP.’ “I got us on the list.”
“How did you manage that?” Eskel asked, noticing the glares of the people waiting as they passed.
“Geralt’s credit card.” Lambert flashed his ID at the bouncer, who checked them off on his clipboard.
Geralt scowled.
“What?” Lambert batted his eyes. “You said to make a reservation somewhere.”
The club was even worse than Geralt expected, packed full of young, beautiful people, writhing and sweaty under flashing neon lights. This is Lambert’s night, he reminded himself as they wound their way towards the VIP section. Suck it up.
They found a booth reserved for them and made themselves comfortable on the velvety cushions. A minibar was waiting for them, stocked with a bottle of expensive Skellige rum and assorted mixers.
“Nice,” Eskel said, eyeing the label.
“Let’s get this party started!” Lambert crowed as he cracked the bottle open and sloshed the amber liquid into three crystal glasses.
Geralt tried not to think about how much this was costing him. He reminded himself that it was worth it seeing his baby brother so happy and in love. He didn’t know by what miracle Aiden had fallen in love with Lambert in return, but if it meant one painful credit card bill, he’d take it. He sipped his drink and enjoyed the warmth washing over his tongue.
Lambert took his first sip, closing his eyes in bliss. “Damn, that’s good,” he sighed.
“So what’s Aiden up to?” Eskel asked, swirling his glass.
“Spa day with the girls,” Lambert snickered. “He’s such a princess. Then they’re going to some magic show tonight.”
“A magic show?” Geralt asked.
“Yeah, it’s called… uh, ‘The Wizard’s Cabaret’ or something.”
Eskel threw back his head, roaring with laughter.
“What?” Lambert glared at him.
Eskel shook his head, too far gone to respond.
“What?” Lambert repeated, staring at Geralt now.
Geralt tried to fight off a smile and was only partially successful. “‘The Wizard’s Cabaret’ is a male strip show.”
Lambert leaned back in his seat, stunned. “It is?”
Eskel took a gasping breath, clutching his abdomen. “Fuck, my stomach…” Another giggle burst out of him.
“Fuck you,” Lambert said without heat. Then he chuckled. “Well, who would begrudge a man strippers at his bachelor party? Certainly not me. More rum?”
They laughed and chatted and ragged on each other for a while as the bottle slowly emptied. Geralt was pouring the last drop into Lambert’s glass when a tall, stunning blonde walked up to them.
“Well, hello,” she said. Two equally stunning friends were on either side of her.
“Sorry, ladies. Let me stop you right there. Bachelor party in progress. Besides…” Lambert pointed at himself, “getting married tomorrow,” then at Eskel, “gay,” and finally at Geralt, “and, well… you don’t want none of that.”
“Fuck off, Lambert,” Geralt said dryly as the women went on their way.
“Oh, come on, you haven’t so much as mentioned Yen’s name since she dumped you, yet you’ve clearly been miserable.”
“I have not.”
“Eskel, has he been miserable?”
“Sorry, bro. But yeah.”
Geralt shifted in his seat, throwing a glare sideways at Eskel. “Do you really want to dive into my romantic life at your bachelor party?”
“Look, it’s hard, but you know what you gotta do?” Lambert said. He threw back the rest of his drink.
“What’s that?” Geralt indulged him, although he was suspicious of the grin spreading across Lambert’s face.
“You just gotta shake it off.”
Geralt was ready to grunt at him again, when he realized a thudding remix of Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake It Off’ was reverberating through the club.
Lambert stood up.
“Oh, hell no.” Geralt leaned back on the cushion, shaking his head.
Eskel chuckled.
Lambert planted his hands on his hips. “Geralt… it’s my bachelor party…”
Fuck. He had to play that card.
“Don’t make me start dancing here, by myself… I’ll do it.” Lambert’s hips began to sway back and forth.
Fuck. Geralt finished off his drink as well and got to his feet.
Eskel stood and clapped him on the shoulders. “You’re a good brother.”
“Hmm.” Geralt’s jaw clenched.
Lambert turned to strut to the dance floor while Geralt and Eskel followed. They wedged themselves into the throbbing crowd and were quickly lost amidst the gyrating bodies.
Lambert wasted no time. “CAUSE THE PLAYERS GONNA PLAY, PLAY, PLAY, PLAY, PLAY,” he belted as he threw his hands in the air.
“AND HATERS GONNA HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE…” Eskel joined in, wiggling his hips.
Geralt frowned.
Lambert threw his arm around Geralt’s shoulders. “BABY, I’M JUST GONNA SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE… SHAKE IT OFF, SHAKE IT OFF!”
A tiny smile crept onto Geralt’s face. Lambert was such a dork. Fine. One song. Geralt sighed and let his body loosen. He could feel the base thrumming in his chest. “Heartbreakers gonna break, break, break, break, break, break…”
“Yes!” Lambert cheered.
The rum had given Geralt a pleasant buzz. He felt the rhythm pulsing in his blood and began to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet. It wasn’t that he was a bad dancer - all his martial arts training made him smooth and graceful - but he struggled to relax enough to enjoy himself. A tall, muscular man with golden eyes and long white hair didn’t blend in well. But here, he was just a drop in a sea of bodies.
Then the next song came on. “Hungry Like the Wolf? Come ON. Made for you!” Lambert yelled over the beat, using Geralt’s dojo nickname.
And then the next song was an old banger from their university days. And the one after that was good too. Before Geralt knew it, he was drenched with sweat, his hair escaping wildly from its tie. He hadn’t danced like that in years, lost in the music, feeling it in his soul. He watched his brothers, smiling and laughing, heads thrown back, limbs loose, and carefully stored the memory away.
Geralt had lost track of how many songs they had danced to when Lambert finally leaned heavily on him. “I need a drink!” Geralt read on his lips. He nodded in agreement and grabbed onto Eskel’s wrist so the three of them could wind back through the crowd towards their booth.
They collapsed on the cushions, desperately draining their water glasses, before Lambert ordered another bottle of rum. “The ceremony isn’t until 4:00!” he explained when he saw the look his brothers were giving him. “I mean, how long does it take to put on a tux?”
“My treat!” Eskel interjected, handing over his credit card to the server when he could see Geralt doing the math in his head.
“Well, it’s your wedding,” Geralt relented. He knew wild horses couldn’t keep Lambert away from Aiden at the altar tomorrow. He was more worried about how Lambert was going to be feeling when he got there. “Just drink some more water.”
And then a voice suddenly cut across the music. “Party people, are you reeeeeadyyyy for the Lyrist of Love?”
The crowd roared, fists and drinks thrust in the air.
“The Python Poet of Passion?” the DJ bellowed. “Our very own Troubadong?”
Geralt rubbed his forehead. “Strippers, Lambert?”
“The Manly Minstrel?” the booming voice continued.
Lambert grinned widely. “As I said, who would begrudge a man strippers at his bachelor party?”
“Posadaaa, give it up, for…. the absoLUTEly luscious… Bad Bard!”
Geralt groaned as the music crashed and the spotlights swept towards the center of the stage.
Lambert was cackling. A... granted, rather attractive brown-haired man strutted onto stage. He was dressed in a goofy cerulean-coloured outfit with red accents that Geralt supposed a singing minstrel might wear. The man’s blue eyes flashed from across the dance floor. Alright, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. At least he wasn’t wearing a ridiculous hat.
“Take it off, bard!” Lambert howled at the stage.
Eskel smacked him. “Behave, please.”
“Behave?” Lambert pulled a stack of ones out of his wallet. “Whatever do you mean?”
Geralt shook his head and had to laugh. “Let’s get back out there.”