Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, Cat."

The voice rushes past the deafening beat of blood in his ears and Gaetan inhales sharply. His eyes leave the wooden door to fall into a worried amber gaze. He can't remember the last time he breathed properly. Everything hurts, inside and out.

His feet ache and he's trembling, from cold, exhaustion and shock. He doesn't know how long he's been standing there, boots rooted to the ground, melting snow pooling at his feet, soaking him through and through. He hadn't been able to take one more step once the Wolves had taken over, carrying Letho deeper into the fortress.

"Gaetan, you there?" Eskel's tone sounds worried and he's finally enough out of it that he can nod.

"Want to come inside?”

Any other day a joke would have rolled off his tongue but his teeth start to clatter as he unclenches his jaw to answer and he can only nod again.

Eskel extends a hand. "Come, we'll warm you up." Gaetan wants to hold it, to feel the familiar strength and warmth. But his fists are bundled at his sides, knuckles turned white from tension and cold, and his arms are heavier than lead.

The Wolf seems to notice, as said hand is on his back rubbing circles for a while, before pushing him gently but firmly towards the door. Gaetan finally steps out of the puddle of melted snow.

"Here we go."

The door shuts behind them. The air is already warmer than in the entrance hall and Gaetan can feel just how numb his body is. 

He's led to a fireplace. Soft furs are already waiting on the ground, inviting. His sluggish mind just wants to curl there and sleep everything away.

"Not yet," Eskel says, preventing his lazy drop right on top of the blankets. "Change clothes first."

The strength required to unclench his fists makes his fingers shaky. He fumbles with the clasp of his cloak until it falls at his feet. He's too drained already to undo his armour.

"Can I help?" Right. Eskel is still here. Eskel can help. Gaetan let himself get undressed, following the man's instructions, lifting one foot after the other, raising his arms. His vision blurs for a while and then he's wearing dry and warm clothes.

They smell like Eskel. Safe. Something rumbles in the back of his throat. A hand is to his cheek, thumb brushing just under his eye and he blinks.

"All done. You can rest."

But... isn't he forgetting something? There's something he should ask. Something...

The pull of the warmth is stronger as he lays on the furs, facing the fire. The wood crackles in the fireplace and his eyes close, mind finally taking a halt.

Eskel puts more furs on top of Gaetan until he's nothing more than a breathing shape. 

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters more for his sake than for his already dozing Cat’s. He exits the room with a sigh, walking towards his own, where his brothers had brought Letho earlier.

He had never seen the man so unresponsive before, more used to Gaetan’s bouts of mutism and isolation. Sure, Letho hated the cold and suffered from it but never to the point of ending up unconscious on Kaer Morhen’s doorstep. They had been so recklessly stupid to climb all the way in this weather! But anger would be for later.

He enters his bedroom and immediately breaks a sweat, the air hotter than he’s used too, even at the coldest of winter. The fire is fierce, no doubt boosted by a couple igni , and the flames and light make Letho’s form even more imposing.

They’d switched his bed for something bigger, able to accommodate the three of them and then some, a couple winters ago. 

“Geralt went to fetch some more wood. Vesemir is in the kitchen doing whatever,” Lambert says, rising from a chair. “Said we can’t bring him down to the hot springs yet. No potions either. Have to wait until he wakes up a bit. That’s what you get for loving a mountain made man.” He bumps their shoulders as he exits the bedroom, the gesture friendly and the offer for help unspoken but there. 

Soaked clothes are piled by the door. Letho is laying on his back, naked under a bearskin throw. The rise of his chest and heartbeat are so slow Eskel is suddenly afraid he’s making them up.

Finally stepping closer, his hand reaches for his lover’s arm and he shivers at the coolness of the touch. His skin is sticky with sweat and there’s a faint smell of blood as Eskel checks him for any visible injury. Considering he’s been dragged up and down a big part of the mountain path, he’d be lucky if he ended up with only hypothermia and a couple scratches and bruises. Seemed like his back had taken the brunt of it, despite the armour and furs. Nothing too serious thanks to their healing capacities.

“Alright, big guy, let’s get you cleaned up,” Eskel says at last, done with his quick exam. A washcloth is floating in a basin of warm water on the nightstand and he sets to work.

He washes and dries every limb with gentle efficacy, the motions soothing until an awkward feeling spreads in his chest. He starts speaking then, telling the unconscious Viper about his previous hunts and contracts. Anything to repel the memories of his younger self, tasked with taking care of his fallen brothers, adepts lost to the mutations, bodies too small and weak to survive the Trials.

Letho was anything but weak and small. And he was still alive, still breathing, still fighting. 

Done with his front, Eskel turns him on his side and starts to wash his back. The dried blood reveals already scabbing scrapes as bruises are turning purple here and there. The healing is slowed by Letho’s current condition and Eskel smiles at the prospect of hearing him bitch about it soon. 

He’s almost done spreading healing salve on the whole expanse of Letho’s back when Vesemir knocks and lets himself in, followed by Geralt. Their arms are full.

“Waterskins filled with hot water. One under each of his armpits and another between his legs, against the arteries. But clean sheets first. Come on, get moving.”

Any other day, Eskel would inwardly complain at the brisk instructions but Vesemir’s expeditive sentences help him focus and give him an immediate purpose. The man, closest thing he has to a father, pulls Letho up to give Geralt the space to set the fresh bedding and Eskel stands in turn, taking most of his lover’s weight on his shoulder. If things weren’t so weird, he’d make a joke at the way Letho’s unconscious hand lands on his ass.

When his brother is done, they lower him on his side, carefully placing the waterskins. The bearskin throw is back and Eskel can feel a bead of sweat travelling down his scarred cheek.

Vesemir looks satisfied and his nerves settle further. “Alright! Your body heat will do the rest. Listen for any stress on his heart, that’s how you’ll know if he’s getting too hot too quickly.”

He exits then, Geralt in toe and Eskel strips down to his smallclothes before joining Letho under the heavy fur. Knuckles resting above his lover’s heart, he starts his vigil.

It’s the warmth getting on this side of too warm that makes Gaetan stir from his slumber. The air is… not quite stale but stuffy around him. Smells of firewood, tanned leather and his own breath. 

He’s in the dark, feeling a heavy number of pelts over his curled form, sheltering him in a fuzzy and hot cocoon. Too hot. He can hear the roar of the fireplace and see a moving ray of light on the floor next to him every time he inhales. 

Pupils already narrowed in anticipation, Gaetan wakes in full and thrusts the furs away. 

The difference in temperature makes him shiver and his body just seizes, muscles contracting so painfully he can only stay still and breathe through it. That sure is new.

He groans, teeth gritted. The stiffness encompasses his whole body, an ache so total he doesn’t remember feeling it since his trials decades ago. What the fuck?

It’s from exertion, has to be that, he thinks, laying back down as cautiously as he can. He shivers still, exhausted muscles spasming out of his control. He tries to remember the breathing exercises Kiyan taught them as kits, to focus and put the anger at the back of their minds instead of fronting unrestrained. He shifts to get more comfortable and a cramp suddenly gnaws at his fucking buttock of all places. Torn between the need to stretch and the pain all his muscles are already in, he finally looks at the ceiling. Stones. Where am I?

His cramp is drowned by the flood of memories rushing back to him. White all around, cold everywhere, howling wind catching up to him way too quickly. He was dragging Letho and–

Letho!

It’s hard to breathe around the shock. It’s impossible to battle the fear as he remembers Letho’s dead weight. No. His lifeless shape, wrapped in furs, covered in snow. No, no, no. The inevitable slowdown of his heartbeat, until he couldn’t… No!

Gaetan is on his feet in an instant. 

There is light all around but he can’t see. No fireplace, no ceiling, no stones. Just the expanding dark void that is loss. No ground beneath him, no furs around him, no furniture in the room. Just fingers inside his ribcage, around his heart, clutching and clutching and clutching as he free-falls. 

There is nowhere to go to escape the feeling. There is nothing to do to make this right. 

And if this isn’t madness.

The careful vigil turns into a meditative hug as the Viper’s heart rate picks up beat by beat. Slightly faster than before but still slow enough to warrant monitoring it. And before he realises it, Eskel is looking up into Letho’s lethargic gaze. He’s still too out of it for words but a deep sigh makes his body sag as his skin breaks in goosebumps.

“There you are,” Eskel says and tears pour out of his eyes without his control. He shivers from the sudden onslaught of relief. His forehead finds Letho’s breastbone and he breathes out, deep and heavy, trying to rein himself in.

Letho battles the fog of exhaustion long enough to bend his head and brush his nose against his lover’s hair before drifting back to sleep. He’s safe here. He can rest.

Eskel listens to the steady heartbeat for a long while after that, relishing the certainty Letho would be alright. It’s then that he hears it, a sudden crash and a loud scream, coming from the lobby where he left–

“Shit.”

He extricates himself from the covers only to look down at a frowning Letho. 

“It’s Gaetan, I’m gonna go check on him.”

The man’s frown deepens as his mouth falls open but he fails to speak. 

“Yes, I’ll bring him here.” Eskel kisses his forehead. “Don’t worry, just rest.”

He exits his bedroom after quickly donning his pants and immediately regrets it, shivering all the way to the living space he left Gaetan in. What he doesn’t expect is finding all the furniture upside down and the Cat Witcher, standing very still in the middle of it. Gaze lost on the floor, he doesn’t even react to his name. 

Back to square one, then. Two anxiety attacks in the span of a couple hours. How lucky… I should have known better.

Eskel comes up to him, making as much noise as possible. Something changes then, and a high-pitched growl rises from the Cat’s throat. Axii is on the tips of his fingers before Gaetan even has a chance to properly leap at him.

The man stumbles but his lover is there to catch him and a litany of gasped “no, no, no” finally reaches his ears. The loose hold becomes a strong hug.

“Breathe for me, Gaetan,” Eskel says, trying to distract and soothe him. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

It takes a couple minutes for the Cat Witcher to understand where he is, to register the feel of Eskel’s cheek against his own. Safe. Held. Home. The floor is still wide open beneath him, a pull strong enough to swallow him up, but Gaetan is not afraid anymore. Eskel is tethering him and everything feels bearable again. Even the creeping madness. Even the loss.

“Sorr-ry.”

“No, I’m sorry, Cat. I said I’d be back. I should have taken you with us, right away.”

“Us?”

“Yes. Letho’s in my room. Warming up. Just woke up actually.”

“Letho.” Gaetan had been so close to scrub that name off of his tongue. Careless once again and failing so immensely. Unforgivable. Inconsolable. Unworthy of so many things.

“ Letho .” The anguish in his tone is enough for Eskel to finally understand what this was all about.

“Oh, Gaetan… Come,” Eskel straightens, letting go of his lover only to take his hand. “Let’s go see him.”

He pulls him towards the corridor, towards their room and Gaetan follows, body screaming but lips clamped shut . It can wait.

Eskel steps behind him as he pushes the door open and is greeted by heat. The fire in the hearth is still going strong but the only sounds he hears are coming from the bed. A heart beating and lungs filling with air. Letho is laying on his back, his head sticking out of the furs. Asleep. Alive. 

“Go on, make yourself comfortable.” Eskel pushes him and shuts the door behind them.

Gaetan kneels on the bed, hand reaching for the Viper’s cheek. Not warm enough but not freezing anymore. Letho stirs, struggling to open his eyes. He squints, Witcher senses overwhelmed.

Gaetan could cry. He is crying, maybe. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. 

“You’re alive,” he mutters as much as marvels. One wrong is right in this fucked-up world again. Letho can only hum in agreement before succumbing to sleep again.

A rope snapping wouldn’t properly describe it but something happens to Gaetan then. The strong relief making way for the bone-deep exhaustion he’s been battling since he woke up. Letting Letho rest, Gaetan sits on the carpet and leans against the end of the bed. Even closer to the fire’s warmth, he finally allows himself to surrender to shivers and pain again. 

The door closes and he realises Eskel was talking to someone, as he comes back with a tray in his hands. “Lambert brought us food.”

There's a warm bowl of stew within reach of his shaky hands before he can even register. “Eat up.”

He winces as he takes it and Eskel’s gaze alone is enough to make him speak. “Everything hurts.” He chuckles at the Wolf’s concerned frown as he sits beside him. His voice is raspy, vocal cords still healing the strain he put them under when he screamed for help earlier. “Didn’t think carrying Letho up a freezing mountain would feel like getting trampled by a herd of horses. Every muscle in my body is just so fucking sore. Think I discovered new ones,” he deflects humorously and starts eating. But the taste his sour on his tongue. 

“Felt like The Grasses all over again...” he finally voices, gaze lost in the dancing flames.

A hand is to his thigh as Eskel gives it a reassuring squeeze. Gaetan chuckles again.

“Sorry, I’m a bit… shaken still.”

“Take your time.” There’s nothing but disarming understanding in the Wolf’s voice and eyes. “Now that you’re here, we’ve got all the winter to ourselves.”

“Ah, I missed this.”

“What?”

“You.”

It’s Eskel’s turn to laugh, caught off guard and fond.

The bowls are emptied in silence after that, until nothing remains and they’re left facing the fire. Eskel’s fingers move to Gaetan’s forearm, digging for the still stiff and aching muscles.  The Cat groans from pain and relief both.

“Want me to get you some Swallow?”

“I’d rather make a trip down to the hot springs. But not tonight.” His eyes turn towards the sleeping shape of Letho. “Lambert’s White Gull, on the other end…” His cheeky grin gets even wider at hearing Eskel’s laugh once more.

“Not tonight, Cat. But I have a counter-offer.”

He takes Gaetan’s arm in his hands and starts massaging in earnest. Slow and firm, all the way down to his wrist, then back up, until his thumbs deepen the pressure on his biceps.

“Hmm this is nice.”

Gaetan grows boneless by the minute, until his arm lies on Eskel’s lap and his head rests on his shoulder. The Wolf doesn’t stop, switching between rubs and strokes, taking his time.

He can see Gaetan’s other hand holding the fabric on the leg of his pants, spasming from time to time, as if kneading it. It warms something inside him, as strongly as the roaring fire.

“I jumped you. Or… tried to.” It comes out of nowhere, once they’re both settled and Eskel ends up supporting most of his weight. But he’s not surprised, he’s learned to go with the tumultuous flow that is the Cat’s mind. 

“You did.”

Gaetan straightens up then, arm sliding out of his lover’s grasp, and meets Eskel’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” The reply is immediate and will not brook any argument. But Gaetan wouldn’t argue as much as state how proud he is. 

Not long ago, Eskel would have answered “It’s okay” or “It doesn’t matter” to any form of apologies. Dismissing his feelings for the sake of someone else’s, instead of acknowledging the hurt and talking it better. Ever the peacemaker. 

Communication is hard. Getting mutated didn’t make this any better. They know that. He knows that better than most. And it isn’t a skill taught by the Witcher schools. Endurance above anything else. Adapt and overcome. If you’ve got time to talk, then you’ve got time to train, to fight, to ingrain survival in your very core.

Now that schools are rubble and instructors decaying corpses, they have time to heal. 

It’s Letho who brought it up. Who saw their struggles first and told them it had to be addressed if they wanted their relationship to work. Lucky for them they had winter and literal months to straighten things out. It sucked at times but Gaetan knew they needed it. 

Each resting season starts the same now, climbing up to Kaer Morhen and leaving a year of stunted or repressed feelings outside its gates. 

He smiles, breaking eye contact to rub his forehead against Eskel’s shoulder before leaning against him once more.

“I know you didn’t mean to. You were just out of it.” The Wolf’s hand holds the back of his head, thumb caressing the fuzzy skin. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yes. Sore as hell, but yes.”

There’s a hitch in their conversation then, until Eskel’s pick up on the small breath one would take before speaking, on the subtle rise in a heart rate and looks down at Gaetan. Teeth worrying his lower lip, he walks the tightrope between silence and speech.

Eskel’s smile and eyebrow quirk are the only invitation he gives him, knowing Gaetan has to do the work by himself. Acknowledge his want and ask for it.

“I want a kiss.” There’s suddenly more colour to his cheeks that he blames the heat for and as Eskel leans down, he rises to meet him. 

It’s soft and unforgettable although it always seems like he is kissing him for the very first time. It feels safe and forbidden and when Eskel pulls their lips apart, it makes him reach for more.

Nothing matters more than the breadth of air between them and the lengths he’d go to to bridge that gap. Over and over again.

Eskel chuckles at his eagerness and obliges, kissing him anew. Gaetan dissolves into it, eyes closed and lips tingling with the intensity. It’s a free fall into a warm welcoming void, the leap not made out of faith but desire and longing. He ceases to exist only to be reborn by the melding of lips. It’s divine and unholy. 

There are pecks to his jaw and a thumb caressing his other cheek when he finally starts breathing properly again. He leans into it and opens his eyes only to be met with warmth and fondness and care. Overwhelming. Unstoppable. And yet he still finds it in his heart to crave for more.

Eskel senses his greed and receives it with his own wolfish grin. They kiss again and it’s so effortless and potent, Gaetan could cry. But he doesn’t. He reaches for the reliability of Eskel’s shoulders as he straddles him instead. 

He groans at the painful protest of his strained body and warm hands are to his hips, digging into the rebellious muscles. Nothing will prevent him from enjoying this. He finally opens his mouth and moans into the resuming kiss, mindful of all the places where they touch, engrossed in the feeling of Eskel tasting him. 

Eskel is the most prolific and thorough kisser he recalls ever meeting. Not that he minds. He really doesn’t.

It lasts for a while, messy and forthright, until it’s hard to tell which tongue and body belongs to whom. They part at long last and Eskel laughs, loud and free. Gaetan smiles dizzily as they hug each other.

“Welcome home.”

Chapter Text

He dreams. Of white plains and glowing slit eyes. Of earthquakes and logs consumed by a never-ending fire. Of a familiar weight on each of his shoulders.

He wakes once, to purrs and snores, his sleeping lovers glued to either side of him. Body still numbly uncooperative, he doesn’t even try to move and let exhaustion pull him back under.

When he wakes again, Eskel sleeps soundly and Gaetan is gone.

Mind sluggish, he thinks he might have dreamed it, until his hearing finally picks up on a familiar noise. Still in the room then.

He takes stock of his body before moving. He can feel a mild ache when he breathes, from the way it pulls at his back. Still has ten working fingers and the same number of functional toes. And the bone-deep exhaustion that slow him are just his viper mutations acting up. Nothing he can’t power through long enough to check on his Cat.

He tries to sit up slowly, clumsy and sore. Eskel groans and rolls on his side, disturbed but still asleep.  Letho pushes on his elbows and grunts as something pops in his back. Head above the furs, he spots Gaetan at the end of the bed, hugging his knees. He purrs and rocks back and forth, eyes glued to the fireplace.

It’s something that grew on him before he realised. The way Gaetan can express himself so fully without even talking. The man loves to talk and somehow manages to never be completely still, even in his sleep. Always moving, fidgeting, speaking, purring. Chatty mutations, those of the Cats. Making highly-skilled and quiet assassins and yet seeing them develop one of the loudest quirks a Witcher ever possessed.

Gaetan purrs all the time and for all occasions. Sometimes consciously, sometimes on purpose, but most of the time, not so much. It’s just the way he is, feels, and expresses himself.

They’ve been doing this for years now. Walking part of the Path together. Wintering together. Sharing their life and nurturing this relationship. Letho would’ve needed to be completely deaf to never pick up on it. The variations and purposes of Gaetan’s purring. And how the modulations in its intensity were tell tales of his mood.

Satisfaction after a successful hunt, happiness, excitation… Of course his purrs were the freest and loudest when driven by positive emotions. But just as he could purr for someone else’s benefit, as a way to soothe them, purrs could also be an angry warning as well as an expression of sadness. And sometimes, when his mind was overtaken by strong negative emotions, it was a way for him to try and soothe himself.

So, here, in the relative quiet of their room, Letho listens once more and feel his insides grow cold all over again.

“Gaetan?”

Fresh tear tracks shine in the firelight when he turns his head to look at him. 

“Hey. What’s going on?”

Letho’s awake. And he talks to him like he would a spooked horse. Or a cat about to go feral. It grates on his fucking nerves. He can’t help it. It simmers inside him until it suddenly flares and he is just there, jaws locked, incredibly pissed and helpless. Nothing works and nothing matters in these moments and it’s so annoying, losing control like that.

He woke up fine, checking on the Viper’s breathing as Eskel snored, and anxiety caught up to him. Left his mind reeling with so many thoughts. Of what could go wrong. Of what had gone wrong. What if situations replaying in his head, always ending with the worst-case scenario.

He remembers starting purring on purpose, trying to find a way to calm down, to break the spiral, to focus on something else.

And now Letho’s awake and asking questions. And a part of him wants to tear him apart.

There’s frustration in his frown, in the clenching of his jaw and he hopes the other will notice because talking is currently beyond his reach.

“Ah… you non-verbal?”

Stop asking fucking questions! He wishes he could yell but he can’t even nod. He doesn’t have the strength to reply in any way. He’s just there and so drained.

New tears pour out of his eyes, uncontrolled and unrestrained. So weak. He knows what’s coming next, what Letho will ask but he doesn’t have an answer. Couldn’t voice it even if he had.

“It’s okay. C’mere. Let’s sleep it off,” Letho says instead, slowly patting the spot right next to him. He’s fighting his own exhaustion. Gaetan wishes he wouldn’t because right now, even asking to be left alone feels like too much.

So he keeps crying and resumes rocking, slightly curling on himself.

Gaetan doesn’t want to explain those contradictory forces inside him, pulling into opposite directions. Locking his jaw and turning speech into something physically painful. Like each word is a tooth forcefully pulled out of his mouth. Cruel and excruciating.

He doesn’t want to be addressed. He doesn’t want to be asked anything. He doesn’t even want to be perceived during those episodes. He just wants to be left alone.
With his thoughts. With himself. Without the pressure of social interaction. Until it passes.

Letho speaks again, soft and slow, and he just looks daggers at him.

He’s gone mute not dumb. He’s still perfectly cognizant and that’s probably what infuriates him the most. How everything is too much, even voicing it. He knows that tonight nothing will do, no-one can soothe him. When he’s like that, so keyed-up, he can’t even stand to be touched. He’d bite and scratch if he was. He’d draw blood without a second thought. He’d be vicious, merciless even though he knows they wouldn’t deserve it.

He’s just so angry.

He wipes at his eyes and stands, teeth gritted. He had thought leaving some space between them would be enough but it isn’t. He needs to get out and find a way to cool off. Walk or run, maybe find somewhere to climb on. Anything.

He puts shoes on and opens the door. The corridor is cold and quiet. Inviting.

Letho hums behind him. “All right. Just… Come back to us when you’re done.”

The door didn’t slam behind him, but the sound was loud enough to rouse Eskel as Letho lies back down with a pained sigh. He tried to be as straightforward as possible but it still feels like he pushed Gaetan a bit too hard.

Still half-asleep, Eskel turns and rises on one elbow looking towards Letho and past him at where Gaetan was supposed to be. Nothing but ruffled furs. 

Letho takes advantage of his confusion to ensnare him in a hug. He can feel his mind slowing already. It won’t be long now before he falls back asleep.

“Gone for a walk,” he explains.

“What? I’m–” Eskel tries to sit up, only to be stopped by the constrictive embrace.

“Let him… calm down… on his own.”

The Wolf huffs but settles further against Letho’s chest, lips quickly kissing his breastbone.

“Alright.”

“Sorry, I’m…” Letho wishes he could stay awake a little longer, wait for Gaetan to come back, soothe Eskel, talk everything out. His metabolism strongly begs to differ.

“It’s okay, Viper. You can rest. We’ve got you.”

Letho’s hum turns into a deeper breath as he falls back asleep, leaving Eskel to his thoughts.

Gaetan’s breakdowns are not a foreign territory for them anymore. More like a minefield, with someone shuffling a couple bombs from time to time. Making it hard to retrace your steps or to reach out even further. It often meant leaving the Cat to his own devices, letting him defuse whatever he could in whatever way he needed.

The first few times had been impressive, Gaetan beside himself and each of their actions and words only making it worse. It took a couple days before he felt okay enough to talk about it.

They learned not to take it personally after that, and to give him whatever he needed when he felt overwhelmed, be it cuddles or space. They learned not to worry when he disappeared for hours without a word, or when he suddenly grew silent and still.

They tried other ways of communicating but it didn’t always work. And he couldn’t promise to leave a note or warn them of where he was going either.

In the end, he needed them to trust him. To trust that he’s not going off to do something (too) foolish and to trust that he will return once he feels better.

I love you. I’ll come around. Always.

Eskel sighs, tension eased by the warm embrace and the rekindled certainty Gaetan would be there when they’ll wake.

The morning after finds them all in the same bed. The fire low but banked and the empty bowls gone the only sign someone had checked on them.

Gaetan is nothing but a shape, his purrs loud from where they come from under the blankets where he lies, curled against Letho’s thigh.

Eskel has been awake for a while, basking into the calm atmosphere, fingers drawing shapeless patterns along Letho’s ribs.

Letho, who’s roused by thirst as he clumsily feels around the mattress for a discarded waterskin. He finds it and frowns, eyes still closed as his numb fingers wrestle with the cork. Eskel huffs near his ear and takes it from his hand, only to bring the neck to his lips and letting him drink his fill. The Viper hums his thanks when he’s done, arm closing around Eskel and bringing him closer.

Everything is calm again, silence broken only by crackling wood and purrs. Eskel resumes his trail over Letho’s ribs, movement following his measured breathing.

“Awake?”

“Close enough.”

Eskel’s fingers still and he waits for Letho to turn his head to place a kiss at the corner of his lips.

"Had me scared for a while there, Viper."

Letho hums. “Feels like apologies should be in order and yet, it’s no one’s fault… Just glad we made it here.”

“Yeah, a sponge bath and both of you dead on your feet wasn’t how I’d envisioned our reunion after months alone on the Path but...”

“Could’ve been worse. Like having to dig a grave in this weather.”

There’s Witcher strength in the slap Letho receives on the arm. “That’s not funny.”

“Eh, there are more painful deaths.”

Letho is serious. They all knew, but it bore repeating sometimes. Their line of work is dangerous and merciless. Death always lurking in not-so-dark corners. Letho would take frost over sepsis any day. He didn’t fear for himself, climbing that mountain, stumbling in the snow, feeling himself just… slip away. He had feared for Gaetan, left alone on that blasted path to Kaer Morhen. Gaetan who’d rather exhaust himself dragging behind him a frozen corpse than leave him right where he fell and stopped fighting the cold altogether.

Eskel’s fingertips have resumed mapping his ribs when he says, “You’ve lost weight.”

“You think?”

“I know. You too, Gaetan.” He likes those well-defined cheekbones, but they didn’t feel as he remembered when he cradled his face yesterday.

The purrs are disrupted for a handful of seconds before resuming like nothing was said. Letho’s stomach answers with growls and Eskel rises with a chuckle.

“Breakfast it is, then.”

It’s not before the door shuts behind the Wolf that Gaetan moves. He shifts under the covers until his head is pillowed on Letho’s belly, frame and face hidden by the furs but yellow-green eyes completely alert. They look at each other for a while before Gaetan speaks.

“I’m sorry, Letho.”

“About what?”

“I should have known better. We could have been here sooner, avoid that storm… If I hadn’t taken that last contract–”

“Some kids would still be disappearing.”

Gaetan huffs. “I didn’t think it would get this bad. We could have looked for a portal or something. Should have. It was stupid. And dangerous.”

“We sure made smarter decisions.”

Gaetan nods. “Not often but we did.”

“That cold must have frozen our last braincells.”

Gaetan huffs again, poorly masking a laughter. Letho’s hand reaches for his forehead, thumb going to the furrow between his brows, carefully smoothing it out.

“’M sorry too, Cat. Should have said something. I knew better but… I kinda missed our Wolf.”

“I know. Ah, the length we’d go to for love…”

It’s Letho’s turn to laugh, as the tension eases and Gaetan kisses his wandering knuckles.

Eskel comes back with a tray filled with food and it takes everything Letho has to not fall asleep right after having eaten.

“How you feeling, Letho?” Eskel asks later, as he finishes reading a chapter of an old bestiary. The Viper’s fingers are gently carding through his hair, his other hand laced with Gaetan’s as he dozes.

“Slow. But I’ve had worse.”

“Up for a trip to the baths?”

He nods, wiggling his toes and something feels weird. He does it again and can’t help a groan. “Ugh frostbites. It’s gonna flake.”

“Quite the usual for you, then. Right, Viper?”

That smile looks so good on Gaetan’s face that Letho can’t find it in himself to be upset a moment longer.

There are forty-two steps to the hot springs and Gaetan punctuate each one of them with a pissed “fuck” as he goes down, thighs and calves burning. Letho’s descent is slow and careful behind him, Eskel at his side to prevent any accident.

Steam rises from several natural pools, their warmth inviting, and with shaky legs Gaetan can’t undress fast enough. He slides into the water with a hiss. Letho enters the pool as smoothly as a rushing tide, waves crashing against Gaetan’s chin and water sliding over the edge and across the stone floor.

The relief is immediate, tension eased by the heat and Gaetan groans out loud as he stretches in the water. “Fuck, I’m never leaving.”

Letho’s hum is equally pleased, the warmth seeping into his very bones and warming his blood like nothing else could.

“Well, not like we’ve got places to be,” Eskel says, finally entering the water.

“Oh, I’m gonna soak in here until I’m as wrinkled as a dried date.”

Letho is already dozing, head resting against the edge of the hot spring and Gaetan takes all the space left for himself, floating aimlessly.

Everything is quiet save for the rippling water and he closes his eyes, drifting silently. The feeling of weightlessness does something to his brain and he must fall asleep because he’s roused by a hand cradling the back of his head, preventing him from hitting the pool’s ledge. He opens his eyes only to fall into Eskel’s and he wants to kiss the gentle and assured smile that stretches his lips.

“C’mere,” he mumbles as he rises to do just that. He swallows Eskel’s chuckles with his own delighted sounds. When they finally part, he rests his forehead on the man’s shoulder and sighs heavily. “Fuck. I missed this.”

Letho laughs in turn, sharing the sentiment, head still on the pool’s edge but turned towards them and eyes cracked slightly open.

Gaetan starts purring then, peppering kisses along Eskel’s collarbone then up his neck when the man angles his head just so. His jaw receives the same worship until he reaches his mouth again.

“Kissing you always feels like home,” he murmurs against the Wolf’s lips, barely touching them as they move.

“I love you too,” Eskel replies a beat later with a quaver in his voice and a grin on his lips. He’s been caught off guard and blushes splendidly. Gaetan beams, caressing his darkening cheeks before letting himself fall backward into the hot water.

“Sap…” Letho rumbles, smiling.

“You’re just jealous,” Eskel answers teasingly, wading towards him and reaching for soap and a washcloth. “Let me?”

The Viper opens his arms in invitation as Gaetan resurfaces and resumes floating aimlessly, humming in appreciation. By the time he’s drifting towards them again, Eskel is washing Letho’s back.

A constellation of green and yellow bruises appears and disappears following the rag’s moves on the pale exposed skin. A weight settles in the pit of Gaetan’s stomach, so heavy he could drown. I did this. I could have prevented this.

The itch to reach out and touch Letho’s back makes him stand up, goosebumps rising in the wake of the trickling water. But he takes another soap and starts scrubbing himself instead. Not now. Not like that. Not when the bottom of the pool threatens to morph into that void again, ready to swallow him anew.

Gaetan grounds himself with the rhythmic routine of washing, eyes following the trails of foam on his limbs, focused. It works well enough that Letho’s sudden hand on his forearm makes him flinch. But the Witcher doesn’t let go of him, fingers sliding down Gaetan’s arm to cradle his wrist.

“You go on like that, you’re gonna wear your skin out,” he says with a teasing smile, but the worried intensity in his eyes doesn’t allow his joke to land.

Gaetan’s only answer is to let go of the soap, eyes falling into the murky water around his lap.

Letho’s thumb gently strokes the tender flesh of his inner wrist. He doesn’t need to find his pulse point to know the Cat’s mind is frazzled, thoughts bouncing around in the jail that becomes his brain at times, but damn him if Letho is going to let his lover slip out of reach right in front of him.

“I can hear you beating yourself up.” He squeezes Gaetan’s wrist before tugging him towards him, until he’s standing up, between his open legs, close enough for a hug. That’s when he lets go of his wrist and takes him in his arms instead.

The embrace is strong, wholehearted. Letho can feel Gaetan raising his arms, and the warmth of his hands hovering above his back as if afraid to touch him.

“Go ahead.”

Gaetan hugs him then, slow and careful. They stay still for a while, until Letho tightens his hold of the Cat, prompting a pleased sigh and a full-body shiver.

They’re resting cheek against cheek when Letho finally whispers to him. “You saved me.”

“At what cost?” The answer is immediate and it takes all Gaetan has not to grit his teeth, to not let the anger in.

“Fuck the cost.”

“I could have lost you. I thought…” He closes his eyes, breathes before letting go of Letho and reaching for his face. He holds it, gentle, careful, and they hold each other’s gaze as he wades through the overwhelm.

Letho’s hands are resting on his hips, squeezing from time to time, before climbing up to his ribs and then sliding back down, tender, soothing.

“I’m here. Gaetan, I’m here.” And that’s what breaks the spell, his warmth and words. The truth in them and the solidity of his presence. It grounds him more than anything else could. He feels rooted, anchored and he wants to taste that feeling right from Letho’s lips.

He kisses him softly, as if drinking from a well he fears might run dry. But Letho’s always been the groundwater, unseen yet ever-present, lying in wait, soaking the earth, flowing underground until life required of him a tumultuous resurgence.

It’s a quiet affair, here, Letho pliant and giving, but it quells a thirst Gaetan didn’t know he had.

They part with a sigh and the Cat licks his own lips as if to retain the memory, eyes closed, unaccustomed to the hunger flaring in his veins. It’s a fierce flow, demanding and primitive, like a claim needing to be made. But Gaetan knows what he wants, what he craves, and it’s not that.

When he opens his eyes again, Letho’s head is still resting between his palms. He’s smiling patiently, willing to follow Gaetan’s lead.

He’s taller than Letho now, standing when the other man is still seated, and he relishes their height difference as he cradles his head to his chest.

Letho isn’t used to feeling small, to being coddled when it’s Gaetan that so obviously needs reassurance, but he trusts him to ask for what he needs and take it when it’s so freely offered.

And it’s nice. Being held. Being pressed against someone else’s skin without a second thought. Being able to hear the rhythmic slowdown of a beloved heartbeat. Letho hums at the soothing sound, hands leaving Gaetan’s sides to brush all over his back before closing in a hug to bring him even closer.

Gaetan’s thumb brushes along the scar on his skull and he shivers at the sensation of a skin not often touched. He does it again, and again until the quivers make way for a calm pleasure and Letho sighs, head leaning more heavily in his lover’s hold.

The slow motion keeps going until it tips towards irritating, oversensitive and Letho taps three times on Gaetan’s lower back.

The Cat’s fingers still before sliding down and settling under his ear, framing it gently. He kisses the top of his lover’s head then rests his cheek there, enjoying the warmth.

They stay like that, unmoving, for a long while. The quiet atmosphere is only disturbed by the sound of water and the ripples created by Eskel washing himself.

His motions are quick and efficient, born form his eagerness to be done and join the soothing embrace.

He walks up to them then, hand trailing Gaetan’s shoulder blades before sliding down his cooling skin and settling along Letho’s arms around his waist. His other hand is already rubbing circles at the nape of the Viper’s neck.

“My loves,” he whispers and they hum in unison, their weight slightly tipping towards him. The peaceful embrace resumes and they sway to a rhythm no one can hear.

They lose track of time, until Gaetan’s skin breaks in goosebumps and he can’t suppress a shiver. Letho, always mindful of his presence and bulk, is resting his weight on them more and more, breathing so deep and even he could very well be asleep.

“We should head back.” Eskel rouses them, breaking their trance and they start to move, clumsy but relaxed. They dry each other in silence, slow and thorough, before dressing back into clean clothes.

“You okay to climb the stairs, Letho?”

It’s Gaetan who groans in answer and Eskel huffs with a smile, turning towards him.

“Alright. Piggy or Princess?”

“Please. Do I look like I’d settle for anything less than a–“

Eskel sweeping him off his feet has the miraculous effect of shutting him up as he latches onto his lover’s neck. A deep laugh bounces against the stone walls and echoes inside the cave as the tall Witcher watches them.

“After you, Letho.”