#snowpiles

He wasn’t forced. Sure, he lost a bet while so insanely drunk that he barely recovered for two days. And during those two days Lambert had to get them going or they wouldn’t make it before the snow came. Two days where Aiden was hilariously miserable and moaning the whole time. But he had begrudgingly agreed, and if you really try, you can sure say he begged. Begged for mercy when he realized just how cold it was, but hey.

“Nah. As soon as you could sit up by yourself you were all sparkly eyed.”

“Wasn’t.”

“You sure were. You like the snow.”

He did, in fact, not like the snow. It might be related to a snowball to the face. And a fist of snow down his neck. And snow in his boots. Oh and that blizzard on the fifth day up the mountain.

It could be related. But there is no proof, really.

Aiden promptly let go of the hares he held and pounced. Lucky Lambert saw it coming. He braces for impact, squaring his feet. It doesn’t help however, Lambert is not a big guy and Aiden is good at this. Down they go, the soft snow catching their fall and embracing them in it’s icy cold. They are silent in their struggle. Aiden uses his body weight to keep Lambert down, grabbing a fist of snow and pushing it into Lambert's face. Lambert bucks and kicks and actually giggles. It makes Aiden hesitate, just for a moment, looking down at him, eyes wide.

Lambert takes his chance, throwing some powdery snow up in Aidens face. He almost feels bad about it, almost, and then he turns them around, buries the other witcher with as much snow as he can reach around them, and darts off.

Aiden splutters and hiss behind him, but just as quickly he was on his feet again, wiping at his eyes. Lambert eyes his surroundings and choose, Aiden only a few steps behind him.

At a full sprint he tackles the stable wall.

Odd you might think. Well, it would have been odd if not the satisfying sound of moving snow from above were noticed.

Aiden does not notice. Well, not more that one would notice a small, feral witcher running directly into a wall. Aiden stops and tilts his head to the side, standing just where Lambert wants him.

The snow falls from the roof with a thump, a small avalanche sliding down from the roof and covering the cat witcher. Lambert whoops at his victory. 

“I got you good, didn’t I!” 

Only, the snowpile isn’t moving.

“Aiden?”

Not a sound. The courtyard is still. Lambert strains his ears. He can hear a heartbeat within the pile, so he is still alive in there.

“Aaaiideeen?” Lambert crouches down, stretching out a hand. “Aw, come on, it’s just a little snow. Come on out now, kitty. Psspsspss!”

With a roar the snowpile attacks. Or rather the witcher inside it. Arms outstretched, using his legs to push up into a froglike leap, he push through the snow. He knocks Lambert straight on his ass, and they roll in a tangle of limbs in the snow. 

Aiden is pissed, royally so, but Lambert laughs. A deep rumbling laugh, he is laughing so hard his sides hurt. It’s enough to let Aiden get a good grip and pin him down.

“I can’t believe that worked!” He says, laughing harder when Aiden grips him tighter.

“Shut up.” Aiden snarls, all teeth.

“Make me!” Lambert shoots back and then immediately quiets down. There is this tension, this spark that rush through him when he says it. Aiden of course notice his reaction, and their eyes lock. AIden is gorgeous in the snow, cheeks rosy and snowy hair falling into his face.

His amber eyes dance across Lamberts face, grip still firm. There are a number of appealing ways Aiden could shut him up indeed.

“Psspsspss.” Lambert taunts again, smirking when Aiden glares at him.

“It’s almost like you want me to kiss you, wolf.” Aiden taunts back and if that didn’t send a pleasant shiver down his spine. He leans closer, shifting where he sits on Lambert. The anticipation of what’s to come makes his toes curl, and his arms are free and he reaches up and-

And there is snow in his entire face. Aiden returned the favor, burying him in as much snow as he can reach. Lambert splutters and spits and hisses. The weight of his friend is gone in a second and Lambert needs a moment to recover and get the snow out of his eyes.

When he finally manages to see the light of day again Aiden stands above him. The hares and bird slung over his shoulder and hand outstretched to help him up. 

He slaps it away and gets up on his own, dusting off snow from his pants and shoulders and ass.

After dinner, after gwent and a bottle of wine they are off to bed.

Before Aiden gets too close to his own room Lambert leans against his own doorframe. Arms crossed, heart beating.