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“My brothers…” Eskel sighs as he steps inside and lets the huge door shut behind him. He’s pulled inside and arms wrap around him as he’s hugged by each of his brothers gathered around in turn. Geralt, Vartok, Lambert, and Merek. He’s actually surprised to find so many of them still up with the late night hour. Then he laughs and stumbles back and Geralt grabs his hand. The white wolf hums and wraps an arm around his shoulders and helps him across the room. “I’m fine, I'm fine.” Eskel waves him off and sinks down on the plush carpet in front of the fire. “Fuck, that feels nice.” He sighs and pushes Geralt away again. “I said I’m fine!” He insists, laughing despite everything. He’s exhausted, moreso than he’s been in months, years maybe. He nearly missed returning to the keep for the winter. The pass was nearly closed.
“Cutting it pretty close.” Vartok says, crossing his arms and looking rather stern.
Merek nods. “You should have turned back.”
Eskel shrugs as he lays down, stretching out. “I didn’t want you all to miss my face.”
Merek raises an eyebrow. “The rest of our brothers will be upset at missing your entrance.”
“Already asleep?” Eskel asks, knowing the answer.
Merek nods. “Diever and Vesemir are cleaning up the kitchen.”
Geralt steps back and nods. “I’ll go see if I can scrounge up some food and drink for you.”
Eskel groans and nods. “Yes, Geralt. You are my favorite brother!” Geralt hums and turns and heads for the door. Vartook excuses himself shortly after, followed by Merek, leaving only Lambert. The red wolf hands back, looking oddly nervous and out of place. Eskel feels the shift in the air and glances over at him. He smiles and holds up his hand. “Lambchop.”
Lambert steps closer and grabs Eskel’s hand without hesitation. He slides their fingers together and Eskel smiles lazily up at him.
“You know I was kidding. Geralt isn’t my favorite brother.” He pulls on Lambert and the red wolf sinks down on the rug beside him. But he doesn’t say anything and Eskel frowns. “Lamb?”
“Are we?” Lambert asks softly.
“Are we what?” Eskel asks.
Lambert sighs and looks away for a moment. “Are we… still brothers?”
Eskel’s frown deepens and he pulls on Lambert again. “Come here.” He says, breathing out.
Lambert’s eyes widen as Eskely taps on his leg. The older Witcher tugs on him more until he gets Lambert straddling his waist. A blush spreads across the red wolf’s face as he looks down at the smirk on Eskel’s face. “Esk… that doesn’t answer my question.” He grumbles. “Just blurs it more.”
Eskel rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling. “Of course we are brothers, Lamb. Fucking doesn’t change that.”
“It doesn’t?” Lambert asks. “Are you sure?”
Eskel nods and reaches up. He touches his fingers to Lambert’s cheek and smiles. “You are my brother, Lamb. We will always be brothers.” Lambert breathes out and leans against Eskel’s touch and the scarred Witcher laughs softly. “Were you worried, sweetheart?”
Lambert nods. “I didn’t want anything to change… when we uh… do the not-fucking stuff.”
Eskel laughs loudly. “Like what?”
Lambert grunts and looks away. “Like being here.” He answers. “With our family. Training and joking around and bullshitting.”
Eskel smiles and tilts his head. “We can still hang out and goof around.” He says and his smile widens. “And fuck afterwards.”
Lambert nods. “Just making sure.”
Eskel laughs again before pulling him down for a kiss.