The Witcher (One shots)

Masked

(Eskel x Lambert)

The party was as fancy as it had promised to be. Fancy drinks, fancy food, fancy people in fancy clothes wearing fancy masks in a fancy villa.

It was ridiculous. Lambert had never owned that much money in his life and he never would. No witcher ever would. Some people had all the luck. Or rich parents. At least the clothes he’d been provided fit nicely and he wasn’t going to give them back once the party was over and the contract done. As for the mask, he’d probably keep it, too. It was shaped like a wolf’s head, covering half his face and leaving his mouth free to eat and drink.

He snorted into his glass. A ridiculous contract, but an easy and well-paying one for once. Usually it was either one or the other.

The hosts believed their villa to be haunted. They didn’t live here, only occasionally throwing one or two extravagant parties a year and they thought a witcher’s presence would deter any spirit, ghost or other creature to show themselves.

As if that would realistically stop a pissed off ghost.

There was nothing here. Lambert had done some snooping, asked around the staff, poked around some corners and went down to the cellar. The staff was lying through their teeth, probably hoping to be left alone in the big ass castle and have it to themselves as long as the owners were gone.

They had even hired a second witcher.

Whatever.

Money was money and Lambert just wondered who the second witcher was. Not many of them were around anymore and either it was someone to have a good time with or they would try and steer clear of each other, each pretending to take this silly contract seriously.

It didn’t take him long to realize it was going to be the former as he spotted Eskel, flirting with an attractive lady whose garments probably cost more than all of Eskel’s gear combined and then some. He would have recognized him blindfolded, the mask (the same Lambert wore) made no difference to him. Lambert took a sip of the wine that could have bought all the land around Kaer Morhen (not like anyone would really want that old ruin) and wandered around, keeping an eye on Eskel, but not stepping closer. They still had the whole night.

Lambert helped himself to some more of the food and secreted away a bottle of oil. Then he moved around, chatting with curious guests and making his way through the gigantic mansion and eventually out to the garden. By that point, a good half of those attending were drunk, if not more. Lambert had seen quite a few couples go into the maze (the owners had a fucking maze) to get a little frisky, among them Eskel getting lead by that attractive lady from before.

Lambert turned away, feigning disinterest. He’d had Eskel plenty of times and once he was sure no eyes were on him, he followed them, waiting on the other side of the maze’s wall, listening to the grunts of his fellow witcher and the high-pitched moans of the woman. By the time they were done, Lambert’s pants were more than a little tight and he listened as they each fixed their clothes. The woman politely thanked Eskel, still a little breathless, and then left. Eskel stayed behind and Lambert smiled as Eskel came around the wall and pressed himself up against his front.

“Did you like listening, Lambert?” Eskel asked, a low growl in his voice that made Lambert’s pants even tighter if that was possible.

“You know I do,” Lambert returned, “especially if it’s you.” He grinned at him and watched as a smile snuck onto Eskel’s face as well.