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Lambert sat across the camp from the sharp, fire-lit features of the Cat. He had been travelling with him for some months now, and his company was, more often than not, pleasant. Not that Lambert would dare admit such things out loud. It was a thought that he kept tucked away under his tongue, safely stored, readily available, but just as easily swallowed.
Aiden was curious. He spoke with a crisp tone that projected authority and confidence. It was a perfected sound honed through many years of pushback and fighting for survival. Aiden was not trained in the same ways as the more traditional School of the Wolf; he was not like Lambert in that way at all. Lambert used his strength and body, whereas Aiden preferred his alacritous tongue and deception. Aiden was a performer, which meant he made for a generous liar.
The air around the Cat changed when they returned from the Path, retreating to the isolation of their camp. Each night, in the comfort of the firelight, Aiden would soften. He still had a certain sharpness to him, particularly in his expressions; no matter how theatrical, they always had a certain edge he could never appear to let go of.
Lambert poked at the fire with a large stick, knocking over the charred wood that crackled before them, creating an atmosphere of comfort and warmth. Embers shot up to the sky, dancing in the rising air, reflecting deeply in Aiden's wide, awaiting eyes. Something stirred in the back of Lambert's mind at that. He cocked his head to one side, deepening his gaze unto the man across the fire.
"What?" Aiden asked, noticing the little shift in Lambert's demeanour.
Lambert didn't reply. He quirked a brow in question, allowing his head to fall entirely to the side, ear-to-shoulder.
"You've gone soft," Aiden observed, watching the worry lines fade from Lambert's brow.
"Just thinking."
Aiden sighed, knowing his friend too well. He stood up with no effort, a rude display of mobility in the face of Lambert's persistently creaking joints like a poorly lubricated door hinge. He scampered around the perimeter of the flame with ease, hardly disturbing the ground as he skirted across it, only snapping a single rogue twig as he sat next to his companion. Aiden's upper arm and shoulder made contact with Lambert's body as he leaned over, head atop Lambert's where it rested.
"I think sometimes you forget I am a Witcher, too," he murmured thoughtfully.
"What makes you say that?" Lambert half-heartedly defended, notably not pushing Aiden away as the pair shared the needlessly intimate moment.
Lambert's legs were straight out in front of him, arms locked out behind him to keep his body upright, whilst Aiden's knees were tucked to his chest, arms clasped loosely around them. Aiden merely hummed. "You think too loud," he said matter-of-factly.
Lambert moved them so they were looking each other in the eyes, pausing thoughtfully--as if he needed to carefully consider what to say next. Aiden knew he didn't. "I don't think I do," Lambert replied.
"You do!" He insisted.
"Yeah?" Lambert breathed, making a grand effort not to look at Aiden's lips. "What am I thinking about then if you're so fuckin' smart?"
Aiden chewed on his lip in contemplation, weighing the pros and cons of his quiet thought; his sharper-than-average teeth reflected the low lighting as he did so. ' Me ,' he would have said.
Thankfully, Aiden thought better of it.
Lambert's eyes widened, pupils contracting slightly in surprise as he felt Aiden lean in closer so their lips barely brushed. Lambert's throat bobbed as he breathed through his open mouth, jaw relaxed, and back muscles strung taught. For seconds that felt like years, they sat in a stalemate as Aiden waited for Lambert to close the gap or pull away.
"We shouldn't do this," Lambert whispered, still not backing away.
Aiden could hear Lambert's heartbeat ringing in his ears, and he could sense his thoughts. "Is that what you want?"
"No."
A few more moments passed in silence, neither man willing to be the first to move an inch before Lambert exhaled deeply and spoke. "Fuck it," he said, grabbing the back of Aiden's head with a firm hand and cupping the side of his neck and lower jaw with the other. He could feel Aiden's smile as he wrenched his eyes shut, refusing to let his awkward gaze ruin the moment as his heart pounded on the walls of his ribcage, trying to claw its way out.
Lambert felt Aiden's lithe hands trail up the front of his shirt before closing around the lower part of its collar. Aiden recklessly kissed Lambert back with as much passion and adoration as he was met with. That is to say, a lot. Lambert was not one for half-assing anything he did; this was no exception. However, what did shock the Cat was that Lambert's near-aggression of the initial kiss died almost instantly.
Lambert's shoulders shook as he breathed heavily, forehead lazily pressed against Aiden's, one hand still firmly on the back of his neck while the other migrated gently to the front of his chest. "That was such a bad idea," he exhaled with no trace of worry left in his voice.
"And when did you suddenly become known for your logical, not-at-all emotionally driven decision-making skills?" Aiden teased.
Lambert laughed warmly, "Do you think..." he trailed off.
"...That you can kiss me again?"
He nodded minutely.
"Yes," Aiden said, pressing his lips to the rough skin of Lambert's jaw, chest rumbling with contentment. "Yes, you can."
Lambert, honest to gods, smiled in return before leaning in for a second, softer kiss. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.