Lambert and Aiden, cutagens, maybe they’re both a little bit high
19. playing with each other’s fingers
My love, of course!! Here is some sillyness where i found out just how many versions you can make of Lambert's name. And some handholding, of course.
Please enjoy <3
Warnings: "drugs", meaning catnip and Aiden gets silly :* Be safe, be good, be kind!
Send me a handholding prompt?
On Ao3 Hand holding collection
It was something they joked about. Puppy piles. Does it count as a puppy pile though, when it's one cat and one dog- uh. Wolf witcher?
Either way, that is what's going on right now.
Aiden lay sprawled in front of the fire, full of giggles because of the catnip the baker had unknowingly put in their bread. It is more potent when freshly picked, but Aiden had eaten enough bread for three men.
Possibly.
It might have been a bad case of the munchies, it could have been six days with only dry jerky and even dryer jokes.
Lambert's treat.
The fire was nice. It popped and sparked when he threw little pieces of sticks in it. Aiden had squirmed, stretched, and explored the shapes his body could make.
"I'm a shrimp, Lamby, look! Shrimp shaped!!" He had laughed happily, and then LambylambyLambchops had stood in front of him and looked down on him in that glary way that he has.
Aiden stretched his arms up, as if he were a little kid begging to be picked up. Would have been nice if Lamberdini picked him up. He could probably manage it. Aiden isn't that much taller.
Instead, Lambert had flopped down on him, just, right on top of him. Stomach to stomach, Lambob didn't even try to catch himself.
"Hah! Lambob!" Aiden giggled, and Lambob squirmed around him, fitting their bodies together in the odd way that is theirs, limbs everywhere.
This shape they never tried before though. The puppy pile.
"Do we need a dog?" Aiden asked, nuzzling into Lambag's elbow.
Why is his elbow on his face? Ooh, maybe he can lick it. He never managed to lick his elbow before. Wait, was this even his own elbow? Meh!
Aiden licked the elbow with great satisfaction! Hah! Wait until he tells Coën about that!
"I don't like dogs. They stink," Lambert muttered, and their shape shifted.
Aiden lay on top of Lamberton, his back over his chest. This dog's arms are way too far away for Aiden's liking, so he grabbed them and put them around himself.
It's warm and snuggly, and he couldn't contain the happy purr building in his chest.
Their fingers tangled and untangled, the low light of the fire lined Lambernie’s skin with gold, glowing. He traced it as Bertbert nosed at the side of Aiden's neck.
"You smell like bread. And wet cat," Lamburr whispered against his skin, and Aiden laughed happily.
"You like it, Lambchops," Aiden purred, bringing up one of their entangled hands to his mouth.
To lick it? To bite it? To kiss it?
He didn't know, but he wanted it closer.
There we go, perfect nuzzling distance. Nuzzle nuzzle nuzzle, this hand was his now.
He pressed the back of Lambert's hand to his cheekbone, rubbing it against his skin, his knuckles hard against his ear.
Under him, Lambert chuckled and rolled them to their sides, looking at the fire again.
Warm, soft, safe, comfortable. Fuzzy, golden, popping of logs where the fire licked at it.
"I'm hungry," Aiden decided aloud, and with Lambolamb's hand so close to his face, that was what he would chew on.
"Ow!" Lambert complained, but didn't try to free himself. "No more bread for you, kitten."
"But whyyyy," Aiden whined, squirming to see his face.
"Because I'm tastier," Lambilambilamb murmured when their eyes met, and then their lips touched.
They hadn't tried that either, but it was fuzzy and golden and warm and oh so very satisfying.
There was a lick of catnip left on Lambert's tongue, and Aiden chased it.
When next Aiden woke up, their bodies were molded together, fitting like jigsaw puzzles, cut to fit each other.
His ear rested over Lambert's heart, its strong, slow beat thrumming in his chest.
"That was some good bread," Aiden mumbled, and then giggled. Witchers didn't giggle, and cats didn't do puppy piles, but here they were.
"We still have some left," Lambert murmured in response, tightening his grip around Aiden.
"Hmmngn," Aiden replied. That was a good response, right? Especially because Lambert shifted and shuffled them until their foreheads were touching and their noses bumped.
Aiden gave in to the urge, leaning in and nipping at Lambert's lips.
"Let's have a taste then," Aiden whispered, and again their shape shifted.
Puppy piles were a success.
The baker figured out quickly that certain witchers were fond of his wild wheat bread.
So whenever a contract was posted in town, he made sure to have some on the way into the oven.
