#eskbert

Eskel wasn’t sure what startled him awake that night. Witchers were mutated to be the perfect hunters, perfect killers, so Lambet’s steps had been quiet down the hall. The door hadn’t been flung open in any sort of rage, his armor hadn’t been dropped to the floor - as a matter of fact it hadn’t been removed at all. All Eskel knew was that one moment, he was in a peaceful, dreamless sleep, and the next he was blinking blearily at the moonlight streaming in through the copious amount of holes in the ratty curtains that hung loosely in front of the inn room’s single window.

To most, he supposed, it might have been creepy to wake up to their traveling companion standing near the doorway, staring. But when Eskel noticed him he didn’t startle further, only gave him a once over, focusing on the black pits that were his eyes, the darkened veins crawling away from them on his pale face.

He was lost like this. Lost without knowing how to reach out, how to make that first step. Eskel only had to reach out his hand, and Lambert’s carefully kept calm face twisted into a growl as he lurched forward. He crossed the space between them in nothing but a heartbeat, teeth on Eskel’s skin as his hands roughly pushed him down - and Eskel let him. Let him straddle his hips and snarl at the shirt that was in his way as he nipped and bit down Eskel’s body.

Good thing Eskel wasn’t particularly attached to the shirt, because Lambert didn’t let it stay in his way. He pulled out a knife and cut it off of him, Eskel’s breath hitching with something other than fear as the cool metal touched his skin. But it didn’t cut him. No matter how frantic Lambert’s movements seemed, he was in control, and soon the knife was thrown down with a loud thud as it stuck into the wooden floor below.

Shirt out of the way, Lambert’s hands and teeth were on him. Eskel hissed when the biting got a bit too sharp, murmuring out a “careful, little Lamb” as Lambert bit down to his stomach. It earned him a snarl that would have sent a human running, but his next nip was more gentle than the last, and Eskel had never once feared the man who was now sucking marks into the soft folds of his stomach.

Lambert stayed there for a minute, hands kneading hungrily into his sides. Though Eskel wasn’t always a fan of rough treatment his cock still twitched in his smalls, swelling as Lambert bit lower and lower, one hand reaching down to rest on the back of Lambert’s head. Lambert’s fingers found the hem of his pants and they were soon jerked down his hips, Eskel lifting his hips up while Lambert hissed and tried to jerk them down further.

“Eager tonight, aren’t we?” Eskel chuckled at the dark look Lambert sent him. The next nip was hesitant, Lambert’s eyes never leaving Eskel’s, his mouth open and panting, fingers twitching and clenching arrythmacially against him.

With rough fingers, Eskel caressed down Lambert’s face, stroking his thumb on the black lines that streaked across his cheek. Lambert didn’t lean into the touch but his eyes fluttered ever so slightly.

“You’re alright, Lamb,” Eskel whispered, the night quiet around them, the air filled with the scent of them. “I’m good, you know I am. I’d let you know if I wanted to stop.”

Lambert’s teeth were back on him a moment later. Nipped past his hips, Eskel’s breath hitching as that hot mouth barely avoided his half hard cock, heading straight for his thighs. Lambert’s hands followed, one squeezing the thigh his mouth wasn’t on, fingers digging into the soft fat that covered the hardened muscles underneath.

It didn’t take long for Eskel’s cock to fully harden. His thighs had always been especially sensitive, and with Lambert sucking marks into him he found it hard to lay still. Lambert looked so good between his thighs, memories of all the times he’d sucked him off at the forefront of Eskel’s mind as his hand returned to the back of Lambert’s head, a low moan drawn out of him as Lambert continued to kiss and bite and lick every inch of his thigh that he could reach.

He looked hungry for it. A growl in the back of his throat, his eyes as ravenous as his lips and tongue and teeth. He switched to the other thigh to mark it as well, not sparing any touch to Eskel’s obvious erection, leaving Eskel swearing under his breath as he watched Lambert cover him in bite marks.

One of Lambert’s hands disappeared, shoved down as Lambert growled low in his throat again. That growl was cut off by a moan and Eskel gasped, knowing Lambert’s hand had wrapped around his cock. His fingers scratched for purchase in the short hairs at the back of Lambert’s head which only made Lambert moan louder, the sound pressed against the soft, sensitive skin of Eskel’s right inner thigh, to the stretch marks that veined across him there.

If Eskel had been human, maybe he wouldn’t have been able to hear the wet sound of Lambert’s fingers finding the tip of his cock, slicking in the precum that leaked out of it. But he could and he shuddered, breath catching, eyes shut tight as he listened to Lambert working himself over. His own stomach clenched at the sounds, tongue flicking out to wet his crooked lips as he followed Lambert’s movements with his ears alone. Knowing just how fast he was stripping his cock, how desperate he was, how wet he was - Lambert had always been a bit of a leaker and he was even moreso with the potions coursing through him.

Lambert hadn’t even touched him yet, and already Eskel found his toes curling, muscles tightening across his body as he tried to hold back. His cock was straining against his smalls, staining the material dark with precum, but Lambert’s teeth and tongue stayed on his thigh, mouthing and biting and sucking so close and yet miles away from Eskel wanted them.

It was the most torturous heaven, one that left Eskel suspended, so close to pleasure. And when Lambert finally nipped his way over to mouth at Eskel’s balls through the fabric of his smalls, it took no time at all for Eskel to fall. Cut loose from that suspension as he came with a low whine, one hand balled into the sheets and the other holding onto the back of Lambert’s head like a lifeline.

He wasn’t sure when Lambert came. Sometime after him and before his mouth became too hot, before the pleasure became too much and he was left gasping and writhing as it found the head of his cock. Lambert never stopped sucking at him after his mouth found him, but his movements became languid after a time, and eventually he got tired of Eskel’s smalls and yanked them down to kiss at his cock proper.

The overstimulation was almost too much, but Eskel knew Lambert was still grounding himself. Lambert licked him clean and Eskel did his best to not hiss at it, did his best to lay still. He licked all the way up to the still leaking head, savoring the heady taste of Eskel there, sucking it into his mouth and letting out a soft moan as it sat on his tongue.

Eventually, he sank down fully onto Eskel’s cock, holding it in his mouth while it softened. As his movements stilled eventually Eskel relaxed, sinking back into the pillows and sheets, eyes barely cracked open as he stared down at the man between his thighs.

His very bitten and bruised thighs. A low chuckle almost escaped him but he bit it back, though he was unable to help the crooked smile that sat soft on his lips. He reached down to stroke his thumb over the receding black lines at the corners of Lambert’s eyes, wrapping one of his legs around him to squeeze him close, making Lambert grunt but otherwise stay limp now that he’d gotten what he needed.

Geralt has had enough of Lambert and Eskel’s bickering. 

Without a word, he’s left the safety of the keep and into the harsh winter cold. The brisk air clears his senses as he marches through the snow, muttering to himself about the pettiness of the argument. Really, the two should just take it out in the sword ring, but Geralt’s in no mood to tell them so. 

In the thick of the forest, Geralt finally breathes his sigh of relief and embraces the chill. It’s so peaceful. He could just set up a camp here for the rest of the winter, alone and content. 

Except, he’s not alone. 

Sword already drawn, Geralt whips around, stopping his blade just before the neck of his stalker. Before him stands a man, brown hair, bright blue eyes with a grin to match, and thin clothing that could hardly keep anyone warm. He is a fool, but more than that, Geralt can smell the magic radiating off of him, the deceit and treachery. 

“Come now, Witcher,” the man holds his hands up in mock defense. “Are you really going to kill an innocent man?”

“If you were either of those, I’d already have put my sword away,” Geralt growls back. 

The man laughs and to Geralt’s surprise, presses closer to the blade. It’s enough to draw blood, but as the scent fills Geralt’s nose, the wound starts to heal over, distracing Geralt from his tumultuous thoughts.

“I only take my fill,” the man answers, a small smile still on his face. “My lovers come to me willingly and leave on their own accord.”

Geralt has heard this story before and he’s not about to be swayed any time soon. “Then perhaps some of your kind might still be alive.”

The man shrugs at this and pushes Geralt’s sword away with his finger tips. The sword falls away with ease, Geralt staring at it as if he doesn’t have control over his own muscles. All he has to do is slice and the whole ordeal will be over with. Yet, something stays his hand, as if he is grateful for this unusual meeting. 

“What will you do with me then, Witcher?” the man breathes, daring to take a step closer. 

Geralt grips tight onto his sword, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, a subtle temptation enters his mind, an offering laid on the table. He really shouldn’t. It could jeopardize the safety of the keep. Then again, he’s got three other witchers on his side and one taste couldn’t hurt. 

“I’m not falling for your tricks, Incubus,” Geralt snarls, trying to fight off the growing curiosity. 

The man chuckles at this, shaking his head. “I’m not doing anything. In fact, I’m suppressing my powers right now. It is you who is falling.”

Geralt swallows, the click loud in his ears as his own words betray him. He’s lost it. After all these years of being a witcher, he is finally losing control of his mind. His resolve grows weaker by the second and then Geralt decides he has nothing to lose. At least, not this winter. 

With a grunt, Geralt grabs the man by the wrist and charges towards the keep, his teeth grinding together as the man laughs. 

“Oh, Witcher, I think we’ll have fun.”

Geralt purses his lips, ignoring the warmth of the man’s skin. “It’s Geralt,” he mutters. 

“And I’m Jaskier,” the man answers, quickening his steps to walk alongside Geralt. “I would ask you to lighten your grip on my wrist, but I don’t think you have any intention of letting me go.”

Ignoring the wink, Geralt loosens his hold just a little as they trudge up the steep slopes. Somehow, Jaskier manages to keep up with no complaint and when they enter the courtyard of the keep, he reeks of nothing but lust. Geralt shivers, his own needs surfacing as he drags Jaskier through the doors, yelling out Lambert’s and Eskel’s names. At this, Jaskier’s face lights up and Geralt submits to the losing battle within him. Without waiting for the others, Geralt charges to his room, all but throwing Jaskier down on the bed. 

With a bright laugh, Jaskier transforms, his clothes disappearing as horns sprout out of his head, a tail snaking out from underneath him. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teases. 

Geralt only grunts in reply, ridding himself of his own clothes before climbing on top of Jaskier, shutting him up with a firm kiss. The hands on Geralt’s thighs send a shiver up his spine and he opens his mouth to taste more of Jaskier. Their tongues sweep against each other, pulling moans out of the two of them as their needs only grow. Just as Geralt takes hold of Jaskier’s cock, thudding footsteps clamor into the room and Geralt breaks from the kiss to look at Eskel and Lambert. 

“What the fuck,” Lambert says eloquently for himself and Eskel. 

Geralt sits up, glaring at the witchers. “Get some steam off. I’m sick of listening to the two of you fight.”

Jaskier’s laughter fills the room and it breaks the spell holding onto Eskel and Lambert. Lambert is bare in an instant, forcing Geralt to move down so he can sit on top of Jaskier. He greedily takes Jaskier’s mouth with his own and Geralt is given a clear view of the wetness between his legs. Quickly licking his fingers, Geralt reaches down, rubbing Lambert’s clit and lips. His shaking legs are a beautiful sight, matched only by the moan that Jaskier swallows down. 

“Eskel?” Geralt asks, looking towards the last companion as he starts to finger Lambert. 

“Just...biding my time,” Eskel mutters as he removes the last of his clothing. 

Eskel always did like to watch, but the fact he isn’t on the bed yet worries Geralt. The hesitation is clear in Eskel’s eyes, ever the concerned lover. 

“It’s three witchers and one incubus. We can handle him,” Geralt reassures. 

At this, Lambert and Jaskier break their kiss, both turning to look at Eskel. Lambert pushes himself deeper onto Geralt’s fingers, throwing his head back while Jaskier massages his thighs. 

“As I was telling your wonderful friend, Geralt, here, I only take what I need,” Jaskier flashes a grin. “And Lambert is a pretty sight, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You all are,” Eskel lets slip and ducks his head while Geralt bites back his grin. 

Jaskier holds out a beckoning hand and that’s all it takes to bring Eskel over. He lays down next to Jaskier, rubbing his leaking cock against Jaskier’s thigh while running a hand along his chest. 

“If only all lovers were as thoughtful as you,” Jaskier sighs, bringing Eskel in for a kiss. 

It’s entrancing, watching Eskel and Jaskier, but Geralt is interrupted by Lambert’s nails digging into his thigh, his wet hole clenching around Geralt’s fingers. Geralt soothes him with kisses along his neck and guides him to Jaskier’s cock, removing his fingers before lowering Lambert down. Lambert takes Jaskier’s cock easily, letting himself sit with the fullness before beginning to move. 

“Oh, Lambert, you feel like heaven,” Jaskier moans, shifting his hips to match Lambert’s rhythm. 

“You know much about that?” Lambert teases breathlessly, bracing one hand on Eskel’s side, the other on Jaskier’s stomach. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jaskier manages to reply before Eskel captures his mouth again. 

Geralt could watch this forever, this mesmerizing scene of pure sex. He almost forgets his own neglected cock until he glances down to see the slick between Jaskier’s legs. Lambert’s wetness is beginning to mix with it and Geralt shivers, knowing what awaits him. Pulling at Jaskier’s legs, he is careful not to interrupt Lambert’s pleasure as he lines his cock up with Jaskier’s hole. As he pushes in, Geralt groans at the hot tightness that engulfs his cock, how ready Jaskier is with no need for preparation. It’s almost too much, but Geralt holds back his orgasm, resting his forehead against Lambert’s back. 

“Come now, Eskel,” Jaskier breathes. 

Glancing over Lambert’s shoulder, Geralt holds his breath as Eskel braces himself over Jaskier, his cock slowly sinking into Jaskier’s mouth. At this, Geralt can’t help but thrust sharply into Jaskier and mingled groans fill the room. The four take it slow at first, finding a matched pace but then, the hungry desire takes over. Eskel grabs onto one of Jaskier’s horns as he thrusts into that greedy mouth, losing himself to the talent of Jaskier and his tongue. If it wasn’t for Lambert’s hand on his back, Eskel would have lost his balance. 

“Fuck, you should have his mouth next time, Lambert,” Eskel moans. “He’ll make good work of your clit.”

“I want all of him,” Lambert gasps. “If I knew incubi could be like this, I would have had one sooner.”

Jaskier moans as he slams his cock into Lambert, matching Geralt’s harsh thrusts. 

“You two talk too much,” Geralt growls, reaching around to rub Lambert’s clit. 

Lambert throws his head back with a near shout, hand flying to grip tight onto Geralt’s hair. The mix of pain and pleasure shoots to Geralt’s cock and he pushes Jaskier forward with a rough thrust. Jaskier gags around Eskel’s cock, but he doesn’t pull away, instead swallowing Eskel to the hilt. It’s enough to send Eskel to the edge and he spills into Jaskier’s mouth with a heavy groan.

When Jaskier has sucked him dry, Eskel falls to the side, watching the three with bleary eyes. 

“You were wonderful,” Jaskier praises as he resumes his fucking of Lambert. “I can’t wait to see what else that cock of yours can do.”

His tail flicks over, but before Eskel can do anything, Geralt grabs hold of it, giving the tail a sharp tug. 

“We’re not finished,” Geralt grits out.

Jaskier’s eyes roll back, a gasp leaving him as his back arches. His cock slams into Lambert and Lambert shouts as he orgasms, slick sliding down Jaskier’s stomach in tear-like trails. Collapsing onto Jaskier, Lambert leaves Jaskier’s cock inside of him, letting Jaskier hold him close as Geralt chases his own release. 

Within a few more thrusts, Jaskier and Geralt succumb to their orgasm, seed filling up Lambert and Jaskier until the three men are shaking. 

It’s almost too quiet now, but the men don’t rush to say anything as Eskel helps clean them off. 

Once wiped down, the four arrange themselves on the bed, Geralt behind Jaskier and Eskel behind Lambert as Lambert and Jaskier curl into each other. It’s peaceful, but the reality of the situation sinks back in as Geralt runs his fingers along Jaskier’s horns. 

“Will you be leaving us tonight then?” he asks, making brief eye contact with Eskel and Lambert. 

The two don’t bother to hide their disappointment and their shoulders sag just a little as Jaskier stiffens.

He turns to Geralt with a slight frown, as if Geralt had spoken in tongues instead of asking a question. “I’d be a fool to forget the three of you so soon. And, we can’t have Eskel and Lambert fighting again, can we?”

“Hey,” Lambert protests amongst Eskel’s small laugh. 

Already, Geralt can see their argument fading away as Eskel caresses Lambert’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his temple. In fact, Geralt doesn’t even remember what their fight was about and Jaskier isn’t going to let him remember, capturing Geralt’s lips in a soft kiss. 

Perhaps he and his fellow witchers are under some kind of spell, but Geralt can’t find it in himself to care. For now, his companions are happy with Jaskier bringing a warmth Geralt hadn’t realized he had been missing.