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As much as Lambert enjoyed coming home to his family at Kaer Morhen for the long winters, he hated the evenings. They’d sit around the table, reading or playing an intense game of gwent, an ever steady supply of white gull to be consumed. That part was fine, but it nearly always descended into telling stories of their various adventurers on the path, the scrapes they’d gotten into and inevitably, bragging about all the people they’d slept with.
Geralt had great stories of sleeping with various sorceresses, including a tryst with Merrigold which he said he regretted, a week with Coral and then his new sudden infatuation with Yennefer and something involving a unicorn which sounded uncomfortable at best.
Eskel was no better. Among plenty of other sordid stories, he’d come back with a tale about taking fisstech with a succubus and then sleeping with her. It turned out that his brother had a thing for horns. Lambert wasn’t one to kink shame, but it did sound a bit extreme.
How was he meant to compete with that? Or even, at least, not sound like a total loser virgin next to their mighty tales. Lambert normally solved this by getting as drunk as possible and telling vague stories or repeating plots from some steamy fantasy novels he’d read while on the path. His brothers never really asked too many questions, and luckily he had a reputation for being an angry bastard at times, so if one of them asked something he was unable to answer, he’d just storm off.
He was almost relieved to get back on the path again come spring. Fighting monsters was something he was good at, and no one asked him about his love life or lack thereof. He was just another nameless witcher roaming from town to town.
That was, until he met the cat.
He’d been sitting at the back of the tavern, nursing a pint of ale and minding his own business, when a lithe figure appeared and sat down across from him. Lambert looked up, and saw a man with tanned skin, long curly black hair and the most piercing green eyes, which were slitted, like those of a cat. He knew this must be a witcher from the rival school. He soon found out that his name was Aiden.
Lambert was pretty rude to this new witcher when they first met. Lambert wasn’t a fan of change or meeting new people, especially if they were from a rival Witcher school famed for being a bit crazy and known to act as assassins. He was wary, and that meant that he was more of an asshole than usual. Luckily for him, this seemed to amuse Aiden more than annoy him, and after taking a contract together and splitting the proceeds, they became fast friends.
Aiden was like a breath of fresh air - Lambert could talk to him all evening and never feel awkward as it did when he was with his brothers. They still liked to talk of monsters they’d killed over the decades, but there was nothing about sexual conquests or love stories. In fact, as they travelled together for a while, Lambert noticed that Aiden never visited brothels or picked people up in taverns for the night. It didn’t bother him, and to be honest was a bit of a relief to not have to worry about that sort of thing away from Kaer Morhen, but it was a bit odd. He’d never met anyone else who was so much like him before.
One day, when they were in a tavern, Lambert overheard Aiden being propositioned. He looked over, and saw a rather busty lady looking very red in the face and leering at his friend. He heard Aiden almost choke and try to let the woman down gently. Lambert understood that much at least - he didn’t want to make a scene, and he knew enough from stories that some people didn’t take rejection well.
When Aiden came back over to their table, he asked him about it.
“Why didn’t you say yes? It must have been some time since you last got any? Certainly not since we’ve been travelling together these last few weeks.”
“Oh, you heard that, did you?” Aiden blushed.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to-” he looked around, then whispered, “Are you into guys then? Because that’s ok too.”
At this, Aiden put his head in his hands and groaned. Lambert was worried he’d put his foot in it and said something wrong.
“Aah, shit. Sorry, forget I said anything. None of my business.” He tried to change the subject, “So… what’s your favourite colour?”
What stupid kind of a question was that? Asking his favourite colour like a five year old. Fucking hell! He’d just said the first thing that came into his head and now Aiden would be judging him for it. All because of that stupid woman trying to hit on his friend. It was all her fault. He narrowed his eyes at her but she was resolutely looking away from their table lest she accidentally make eye contact with Aiden, so she didn’t see him.
Aiden raised his head from his hands and gave a little chuckle. “Hmm, favourite colour? I’d have to go with red. Nice and bright. That or yellow.”
“Yellow? That’s a horrible colour! All sickly and gross.”
“Like the colour of your eyes.”
“Eww, I hate my eyes. At least yours are green.”
“Yes, well...”
“Wait, you don’t…? You’re not... You’re not in love with me or anything are you?” He had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He’d have to leave, and he’d enjoyed travelling with the other witcher. They were friends. Even after this short amount of time.
“Wow, ego much? No, don’t worry, you’re safe.”
“Phew! No offence, but I don’t do love or romance, with anyone. Not even for one night.”
“Me neither. Or.. at least most of the time. I fancied this one guy once, a long time ago, but nothing much happened. Oh, and I had a fling with a barmaid a year or two ago. That didn’t last long either. Only a few days and then I was off again. Other than that, I don’t really like other people that much.”
“Really? I always thought I was the odd one out. I think it must have been something to do with the trials because I’m not even interested in sex or dating anyone like my brothers are. They’re always bragging about it and I feel like I have to make stuff up when I’m around them so they don’t find out what a loser I am.”
“You’re not a loser, and It’s not a mutation thing, I knew a human once who was the same. Some people just do better on their own. Nothing wrong with that. I like being the way I am.”
“Hmm, I like that.” It was so nice to have someone he could talk to about these things, who actually understood him and didn’t judge him. This year, he thought, was off to a great start. He might even think about inviting the cat to the keep for winter, depending on how it went.