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Leo’s shrieks of laughter made Geralt grin as he blew raspberries into his nephew’s cheek. It was the height of summer and they’d badgered Eskel into driving them all out to the lake for a day of fun and parent free shenanigans. Lambert was floating on his back, enjoying the sunshine, blissfully unaware of Berengar drifting closer under the water.
“Ooooh, he’s gonna get in trouble,” Geralt sang to Leo, rocking him back and forth in his arms. “Yes he is! Soooo much trouble!”
“Biiii’ trouble!” Leo giggled, kicking his feet happily.
Right on cue, there was a splash and a curse as Berengar grabbed Lambert by the ankle and dragged him under the water, and Leo was sent into fits of laughter.
“Ba’ Ber,” he said, shaking an admonishing hand at the scuffle.
“Yeah, bad Ber,” Geralt agreed, bouncing Leo on his hip. “Get ‘im, Lamb! Give ‘im what for!”
Lambert certainly did his best, flailing upright and swimming after his brother, spewing curses and lakewater in roughly equal measure.
“Futtin’ dit!” Leo yelled, grinning ear to ear.
Eskel, who had previously been ‘dozing’ in the grass and ignoring everything around him in favor of soaking up the sun, bolted upright and met Geralt’s wide eyed stare with one of his own.
“Oh no,” he muttered.
Geralt nodded. “Dad’s gonna murder us.”
Leo giggled again, grin growing wider. “Futtin’ dit!” he crowed, pleased with the fun new words he’d learned.
“Hey now, that’s enough of that, I think,” Eskel said, rolling to his feet. “Geralt do something,” he added in a hiss.
Geralt’s mind felt scrambled. There was nothing he could do. Leo wouldn’t let go of his new words until something more fun came along to replace them. If there was one thing Geralt had learned since Leo was born, it was that anything that made the kid laugh would be clung to until the shine wore off, and then some.
Leo gave him a sly look, a cheeky smile still lighting up his face. Geralt needed to give him something new to pay attention to now, or he would need to go into hiding for fear of what his dad was gonna do when he found out.
Stalling for time, he lifted Leo above his head and swooped him around, an old favorite but always guaranteed to at least raise a smile. On the way down, he pressed his face into Leo’s belly and rubbed it back and forward, intending to blow a raspberry. Before he could draw breath, Leo’s bubbly laughter spilled out across the lake. Geralt pulled him backwards in surprise, holding him at arm’s length to see what he’d found funny.
“Do that again, for God’s sake, before he remembers,” Eskel hissed.
“What did I do?” Geralt asked.
Eskel just shrugged, helpful as always. For lack of a better idea, Geralt repeated his previous movement, swooping Leo through the air and then nuzzling into his belly. Again, shrieking giggles met him.
“Tickle!” Leo cried, breathless with laughter. “Tickle, Ger!”
A snort from Eskel clued Geralt in.
“Well, damn, looks like that peach fuzz is good for something after all,” Eskel chuckled, shaking his head.
Geralt flushed. So his beard was still a little patchy, he’d admit it, but it wasn’t that bad.
A tiny hand smacked the top of his head, and he remembered the task at hand. At least Leo appreciated his beard. Even if it was only because it was tickly.