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The Rivia family is vast and varied, bound together by blood and destiny and all that bullshit. Lambert doesn’t really give two parts of a fuck how anybody gets to them, it’s about their actions once they arrive. True loyalty can’t be bought and Lambert has proven himself to be an excellent judge of character. No one moves around this family until they’ve gotten Lambert’s seal of approval.
So, when Geralt, his oldest brother and boss as he likes to remind Lambert on a daily basis, calls him down to meet a man that claims to want in, Lambert knows why.
He’s about Lambert’s height with auburn hair curling around an angular, unfairly handsome face. Eyes like emeralds lock onto Lambert as soon as he enters his brother’s study, searching and evaluating just as Lambert himself is doing. The newcomer is all lean lines, dressed in dark wash jeans and a tattered black t-shirt, slim and feline with a smirk to his lips that denotes mischief.
“Lambert, this is Aiden. You’ll be seeing more of him,” Geralt rumbles from behind his desk. “Find him a room and get him a burner, I want you to see how he does on your next run.”
It’s a dismissal, even though it doesn’t really sound like one, but Lambert likes to push the White Wolf’s buttons and he makes it so easy.
“Wasn’t aware I signed up for babysitting duty,” Lambert drawls, just to be a shit.
Geralt glares at him with a clenched jaw. “I wasn’t aware it was up for debate.”
“You know, if you wanted the house empty so you can fuck around with your little bird, you could just ask . It’s gotta be simpler than sending all of us away for a few hours, I mean-”
“ Lambert. ”
“Yeah?”
“Get out of my office.”
“Sure thing, brother. Tell Jaskier I said to go fuck himself.”
Lambert is sure to slam the door on his way out for the simple satisfaction of hearing Geralt curse at him from the other side. He’s so busy snickering that he almost forgets about his companion.
“Aiden, huh?”
“And you’re Lambert. Now that we’ve stated what we already know, why don’t you tell me where you’re taking me?”
“You heard the man, gotta find you a room,” Lambert says, leading Aiden to the upper levels of the mansion they all live in and towards the empty rooms.
“Is yours available?”
Lambert stops in his tracks and huffs a laugh at the blatant once over Aiden gives him.
“Doubt you can handle this, sweetheart,” he smirks.
( Lambert has never been so happy to be proven wrong in his life. )
# # #
Aiden talks Lambert into a whole fucking lot of shit.
Aiden convinced him to climb up on the roof and pitch firecrackers into the yard while his brothers were trying to schmooze some uptight executives. He talked Lambert into skydiving. ( “Who the fuck wants to jump out of a perfectly good airplane, Aiden?” “Me. You wouldn’t make me do it alone , would you?” And he’d given Lambert that fucking look that he does and damned if Lambert wasn’t in a plane with a godsdamn parachute strapped to his back by the end of the week.) He even managed to get Lambert in a whole ass suit for some stupid charity event that Eskel forced him to attend a few weeks back.
A stupid charity event that Lambert blames for landing him in fucking ballroom dancing lessons . Aiden had been appalled at Lambert’s lack of any ability to dance, despite being quite graceful on a day to day basis, and spent two weeks badgering him about this class.
“This fucking sucks,” Lambert complains, for what is likely the hundredth time since the lesson started an hour ago.
“It’s not that bad, you big baby,” Aiden admonishes as he jerks Lambert up to his feet after their break.
“If you tell anyone -”
“Yes, yes, you’ll set me on fire and shove me off a cliff and all that nonsense. It’s a very frightening threat, my love, but I find it difficult to believe in your follow through,” he interrupts. “Besides that, Triss has almost convinced Eskel to give it a try and I’m eighty percent certain that Geralt is more excited about their lessons than Jaskier is. They’ll be joining us next week,” he grins.
Lambert groans dramatically but Aiden is having none of it.
Fucking dance lessons, what in the actual fuck, Lambert grouses to himself as he sweats through the last hour of their second lesson in as many weeks.
( Aiden is, admittedly, a fucking sight to see when he dances. He’s beautiful, all sparkling eyes and beaming smiles, and Lambert gets to spend a couple of hours every week showing off what’s his , so maybe the lessons aren’t as terrible as all that. Not that he’s going to tell Aiden any of it.)
# # #
They’re at the bar when Aiden leaps off his stool and calls out to a slender figure with a shaved head and embraces the man like he hasn’t seen him for years. He winds up dragging said man, and Lambert with them, out into the street where it’s quieter. A ten minute conversation with Aiden’s adoptive brother, Gaetan, finds his Cat is fucking livid , fuming and pacing and swearing; Lambert is a little concerned for the people in their immediate vicinity. Lambert would be pretty fucking pissed off too, though, if he found out an old friend was trying to have him killed. One Jad Karadin has apparently put a bounty on Aiden’s head, granted it’s far enough south that he shouldn’t have to worry about it way up here in Kaedwen.
There’s only a handful of people who even know where Aiden came from, or what name he used to go by, or what company he used to keep, Lambert and his brothers among them. He knows Aiden isn’t worried about being found, especially considering it took Gaetan four years and he wasn’t even looking for Aiden but a place to lay low himself, so it’s just the idea that a man he’d looked out for and protected for years would turn on him that’s got Aiden so riled. Lambert takes a moment to scan the area, searching for anything to distract his partner with, and has to bite back a sigh when he catches sight of the small band on the other end of the park.
The things I do for this fucker, Lambert thinks.
“Come on, kitten,” he says, interrupting Aiden’s muttering to take him by the hand and drag him off toward the music.
“Lambert, what the fuck are you doing?” Aiden questions but follows without any resistance. ( Lambert absolutely does not get all warm and fuzzy at the inherent trust Aiden has always given him. )
“Cheering you up and you better fucking love me for it,” he grumbles.
He jerks them to a stop six feet from the quartet who starts up another song just as Lambert takes Aiden’s hand in his and places his other at the small of his back.
Aiden stares at him for several dumbfounded moments before he grins, wide and unfettered, as Lambert starts them moving. He takes them through a tango, because he knows it’s Aiden’s favorite and the pace is right for the music, trading the lead back and forth through the whole thing. Lambert can tell Aiden is distracted at first and starts letting himself be a little goofy as they dance, trying to get a reaction. His persistence is rewarded half way through when he does a little shimmy, licks his lips like he’s in a bad porno, and quirks an eyebrow at Aiden and the man finally barks out a laugh.
They gather quite the crowd as they laugh and dance around each other, they even garner some applause when the music finishes and Aiden throws his arms around Lambert’s neck to plant a kiss squarely on his mouth.
“Ridiculous wolf,” he grins.
“You love me.”
“So fucking much,” Aiden agrees, murmuring the words into the quiet space between them.
“Love you, too, kitten.”
So fucking much. Endlessly.