Chapter Text
Red, I feel my soul on fire
Black, my world if he's not there
Red, the color of desire
Black, the color of despair
~ Red and Black, Les Miserables
Eskel and Lambert were roommates. They also worked at the same restaurant. The vast amount of time they spent together was working out pretty well for Eskel, because he had a big, fat crush on Lambert.
They’d been living together for several years now, and the feeling had always sort of been there, but lately it was getting harder to ignore.
The attraction was maybe a little hard to explain. Eskel was thoughtful, methodical, and reserved, and Lambert was none of those things. He was a fiery redhead - blunt and loud and oblivious to most social norms and graces… and he was notoriously late for everything.
For Kreve’s sake, was he still sleeping?
“Lambert!” Eskel knocked on his bedroom door. “You up?”
No response.
“Lamb!” Eskel banged a little harder. Still nothing. “Fuck, man. Lambert!” He opened the door.
Lambert was sprawled out on his stomach, fast asleep, covers tangled around his feet. And he was completely naked.
Eskel’s mouth dried out as his eyes swept up Lambert’s muscular, toned body, and he told himself to look away. That ass, though. He grabbed the comforter and threw it on top of that… tight… round...
He snapped his attention back to the task at hand. “Fuck’s sake, Lambert, wake up.” He shook Lambert’s shoulder.
The man snorted and cracked an eye open.
“Ugh, what?” he croaked.
“We’re on brunch today, man. We’ve got to be at work in 30 minutes! Didn’t you set an alarm?”
“Ah, shit.” Lambert rolled over and pushed his curly red hair out of his face, fingernails scratching at his scalp. He’d been letting it grow out the last few months and it hung down well past his ears now. Eskel had been watching the curls appear with delight, imagining how it would feel to twirl them around his fingers.
And then Lambert stretched and groaned, and Eskel beat a hasty retreat out of the room before his thoughts could get away from him again. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.” He shut the door firmly behind him.
Lambert clambered into the car nineteen minutes later where Eskel sat waiting with the engine running and the defrost blasting. Eskel always left wiggle room when giving Lambert a departure time, though, so he wasn’t too put out.
He waited for Lambert to buckle in then handed him one of the travel mugs of coffee.
Lambert grunted his thanks and took a grateful sip, then heaved a sigh. “All those fucking omelettes.”
Eskel nodded as he backed out of the driveway. “I'll be on omelettes today if you want.”
“Yeah?” Lambert cocked an eyebrow at him. “I figured we’d make Geralt do it.”
Eskel’s lips quirked up. “I don’t know if we can make the head chef do anything, but you can try.”
“Pff, Geralt’s a pushover. He acts all pissy but has he ever really ended up saying no to anything?”
Eskel considered. “Well, certainly not to Jaskier anyway.”
Lambert snorted. “Yup. He’s got it bad.”
Jaskier had started working as a server at Corvo Bianco a couple months ago, and there was an instant and obvious chemistry between him and Geralt. Obvious to everyone except the two of them, that is. The staff had almost immediately started a pool as to when they would get together. Unfortunately, Eskel had long since lost his money. Lambert was still in.
The kitchen was still quiet when they arrived. Geralt was already there, sharpening his knives. Otherwise it was just Regis, the owner, and the new manager, Tissaia, who were sitting together in the office going through some purchase orders.
Eskel and Lambert pulled on their chef’s jackets and hats and joined Geralt in the kitchen. They talked about the menu and what needed to be done for the day, and Eskel tried not to grin when Lambert floated the idea of Geralt doing the omelettes.
It was really hard not to grin when, after some grumbling, Geralt agreed. Lambert winked at Eskel once Geralt’s back was turned, and his heart fluttered in response.
As they got down to work, the other staff started to trickle in, the background hum steadily growing.
Eskel watched Jaskier bounce directly over to Geralt when he arrived and Geralt had breakfast waiting for him. Seriously, how were they not together yet?
“What’s new today, gentlemen?” Jaskier directed his question to everyone in the kitchen once he had tucked away a few bites.
Eskel was whisking eggs. “Same old, Jaskier. Same old.”
“How did that party wind down on Saturday night?” he asked around a mouthful.
“Tissaia finally had to ask them to leave. It was... maybe 2 a.m.?”
“Looked like that might be a late one!”
The chatter continued until they opened and guests began to arrive, and the servers hustled out to get brunch started.
Eskel was startled out of his groove a while later when he heard a loud crash behind him. He turned to see a chafing dish on the ground with Jaskier frozen, mouth wide open, and covered from chin to thighs in hollandaise sauce.
One of the busboys stood with his hands up, horrified.
“Oh my gods, Jaskier! I am so, so, so sorry!” he babbled. “Oh my gods!” He grabbed a rag from the counter and began swiping at Jaskier’s shirt.
“It’s okay,” Jaskier said, recovering from the shock. “It’s okay. I have a change of clothes in my locker…” He gingerly made his way towards the back, leaving drips of hollandaise behind him.
Geralt quirked an eyebrow at the busboy. “Clean that up.”
“Yessir, Mr. Rivia.” He nearly bowed to Geralt and turned his attention to the floor.
Eskel got back to carving ham, but when he reached across the counter to switch knives, he heard a ripping noise.
“Shit!” Eskel barked, feeling along the shoulder seam of his jacket where he had felt something give.
Geralt sighed. “What now?”
“I just burst a seam in my jacket.” He turned around displaying where his chef’s jacket had split open along his shoulder.
Lambert eyed him. “It’s all that working out you’ve been doing.”
Eskel felt his cheeks flush. Last summer they’d had a staff party around Regis’ pool and Lambert had made a comment about the size and shape of Geralt’s shoulders. Eskel had started working out the next day. And he, in fact, had noticed that his shirts and jackets were getting a little snug lately. It pleased him to no end that Lambert noticed.
“Maybe. Do you have an extra, Geralt? Should fit me…”
“Yeah, I think I left it… One second…”
Geralt wiped his hands on his apron and disappeared down the hall towards the staff washroom. He appeared a moment later, face bright red, clearly flustered. He tossed a jacket at Eskel without a word.
He put his head back down at his station, chopping furiously.
Eskel eyed him. Hmm, what had he seen in that washroom? His question was answered moments later when a freshly changed Jaskier burst back into the kitchen.
Eskel grinned to himself. These two idiots and their pining. He wondered what Geralt had gotten an eyeful of.
“I don’t think I’ve had a chafing dish dumped on me before,” Jaskier laughed. “Hoo, what a mess.”
“Ha, we’ve seen worse! What’s a little hollandaise on the floor? Ask Geralt about Yennefer,” Eskel smirked.
He could see Geralt wince. He really hated it when people brought up Yenn, but it was such a good story.
“Who’s Yennefer?” Jaskier asked him.
“Oh, just some witch that used to work here,” Lambert tossed over his shoulder.
“Yenn and I dated for a while. It… didn’t end well,” Geralt said gruffly.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Eskel snorted. “They had it out right where you’re standing and she quit on the spot and stormed out, tossing dishes and trolleys as she went. That was a mess.”
“What kind of dumbass dates someone they work with,” Lambert shook his head.
“Lambert, I’m standing right here.” Geralt rubbed his forehead.
Lambert grinned at him. “And you’re a dumbass.”
“You don’t think it ever works out?” Eskel looked at him thoughtfully.
Lambert shook his head firmly. “Never.”
Eskel knew that Lambert was right, of course, but to hear him say it aloud was… disappointing.
Jaskier pursed his lips. “Well, I’ve done it plenty of times before! Very few times did it end in a disaster. Although one ex did tell all my tables I had syphilis...”
Geralt scowled. “We’d prefer to avoid claims of diseases around here.”
“Right. Well… I’ll do my best to avoid it.” Jaskier gave him a lopsided smile and scooted back out to check on his tables.
They survived brunch without any further incidents and reached the lull before the dinner crowd began to arrive.
“That’s it for me,” Jaskier announced to the kitchen as his shift ended. “I’m off tomorrow, so I’ll see you all at Regis’s tomorrow night, yeah?”
Regis closed the restaurant early the first Monday in December so everyone could come to a Christmas party at his house. Lambert loved parties of any sort, and Eskel knew he’d been looking forward to it. So he was too.
* * * *
Eskel looked at the time again and banged on their bathroom door.
“Lambert! It’s time to leave!”
“Almost done,” he replied.
Eskel groaned and leaned back against the wall. The amount of time Lambert spent on his hair now…
The door was flung open. “Gods, Eskel! What’s your hurry? Regis’ is like a two second drive.”
Eskel looked at him. His hair did look really good, though. “We are not driving to Regis’. It’s three blocks away.”
Lambert raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you looked outside?”
He hadn’t actually. He herded Lambert downstairs before he could change his mind about his hair or outfit and took a look out the front window.
The winter storm that had been forecast had indeed arrived. There was already a blanket of snow smoothing over the landscape.
“What, are you scared of a little snow?” Eskel goaded him.
Lambert rolled his eyes at the provocation but ultimately caved. He was always in a good mood before parties, and was generally content to let Eskel be in charge of getting him places on time.
They got there only a few minutes after the appointed time. They each grabbed a beer and joined Geralt, who was already there. Geralt was at least five minute early for everything. When Jaskier arrived a bit later he made a beeline for Geralt. Eskel shook his head at them and took a sip of his drink. Those two were in orbit around each other, permanently linked, always circling.
“Hey, Eskel!” Lambert suddenly announced, a few beers later. “Let’s play Pyramid!”
Eskel gave a resigned sigh, knowing Lambert wouldn't even wait for his answer. Eskel watched him work his way around the room, inviting others to come play with back slaps and neck squeezes. Lambert was a tactile person, he liked to touch things, feel their texture, and when he was drinking it was even more pronounced.
Eskel tracked down some shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels while a crowd gathered around the coffee table. Eskel and Lambert sat side by side on an ottoman at one end. Lambert nudged him with his shoulder. “You ready to lose, Bear?”
Eskel felt a shower of sparks in his gut. ‘Bear’ had been his nickname in college when he rowed crew with Geralt. Lambert didn’t use it often, but when he did… it made Eskel want to dissolve into a puddle. Instead he nudged him back. “You wish.”
Lambert dealt out the pyramid of cards, face down, and explained the rules as he went. It was a game of bluffing, and calling other people’s bluffs. Lambert was terrible at it, at least from Eskel’s perspective, because he could tell when Lambert was lying. He would get a twinkle in his eye, like the thought of getting away with something was just too terribly pleasing. The only time he did get away with it was when Eskel decided to let him have one.
The room got louder as the game went on, especially with the addition of Jaskier playing Christmas carols on the piano. Lambert flipped over the final card in the pyramid. “A three. And since this is the last card, we’re doing shots!”
“I have a three!” Essi crowed. “Drink, Triss!”
“Hmmm…” Triss eyed her. “Alright!” She decided not to call a bluff on Essi and just accept her shot. Everyone cheered and Eskel poured a shot for her. She tipped it back and winced with a laugh.
“I have a three, too!” Lambert announced. “Shot for Eskel.” He grinned widely at him.
Eskel raised an eyebrow and looked at Lambert. Yup, there was that twinkle. Definitely bluffing. He kept a straight face as he poured another shot and picked it up.
He brought it to his lips and then paused. Lambert was watching him with great anticipation.
“Bluff,” Eskel proclaimed with a grin, and held the shot out for Lambert instead.
Lambert jumped to his feet, howling in mock outrage. “Noooooo!” He had to do two shots now since someone had successfully called his bluff.
Eskel handed Lambert the shot glass and then another, laughing at his theatrics. Lambert slammed them back and whooped loudly to the cheers of the crowd.
“Lambert, you animal!” came from across the room. Jaskier was standing up at the piano, hands on hips. “I am trying to perform for you and I can’t do it over the sound of debauchery,” he said haughtily, but there was an amused glint in his blue eyes.
“Come join us, Jaskier!” Lambert replied, empty shot glass raised high. “I will destroy you!”
Jaskier grinned at him but his eyes slid over to Geralt.
“What do you say, Geralt?” Jaskier asked him, eyebrows raised. “Think we can take him?” He drained the last of his drink.
Geralt replied with a grunt, but when Jaskier traipsed over, he followed.
A new round started and Jaskier threw himself in with glee.
This time when they reached the final card, a four, Jaskier and Lambert faced off.
“I have a four. Shot for Lambert!” Jaskier said happily.
Lambert casually slung an arm around Eskel’s shoulders and leaned in to stage whisper. “What do you think, Bear? Is he bluffing?”
Eskel took a deep breath. He was almost dizzy with Lambert’s smell - whiskey and aftershave and his hair - and the weight of his arm, hot across his back.
He did his best to study Jaskier carefully, who looked both drunk and smug. “I don’t think so.”
“Hmmmm...” Lambert pushed his hair back with his other hand, watching Jaskier with eyes narrowed.
Jaskier started to pour a shot, but Geralt leaned in to help when he was mostly missing the glass.
Jaskier held up the glass. “What’s it gonna be, Lambert?” His blue eyes blinked innocently.
“Bluff!” Lambert finally announced. Eskel chuckled and shook his head.
Jaskier grinned widely and flipped his card to reveal a four. He threw his arms up in victory as Lambert buried his face in his hands.
“Geralt, pour my friend Lambert another one, please!” he crowed.
When the accompanying cheering and groaning had died down a little, they heard Regis tapping on his wine glass with one of his rings.
“Attention, my dears, please!” The room quickly quieted as everyone turned to listen to their beloved boss. “I would like to thank you all so much for joining me in my home this evening. But I’m afraid our time together must come to an end.” He smiled and held up his hands when he was met with a chorus of disappointment. “I know, I know, I wish you could stay all night, too. But I must get you all home safely, and there is no sign of the storm letting up.”
Lambert went over and threw an arm around Regis. “Thanks for the party, boss!”
“You are most welcome, Lambert. I hope you’re not walking home?”
Eskel sighed. Thanks, Regis.
Lambert’s eyes slid over to Eskel. “Matter of fact, we are. This asshole made us walk.”
“We’ll be fine, Regis. We bundled up,” Eskel jumped in before Lambert could get any more ammunition.
After a round of goodbyes, they layered on their winter gear and pushed out into the swirling snow.
They only went a few steps before Lambert began swearing. “Godsdammit, Eskel.”
“It’s three blocks, Lambert. We can make it.”
“This is a literal blizzard.”
Eskel rolled his eyes. “I’ll warm you up when we get home. I mean…” He shook his head. The beer was making his brain fuzzy. “I’ll make sure- You can warm up when we get home.” Fuck.
Lambert didn’t reply, his head down and shoulders hunched against the wind.
The storm helped cool Eskel’s cheeks and he hoped Lambert hadn’t read anything into his rambling.
They got home and stamped into the foyer, shivering and brushing snow off of their jackets and toques.
Eskel looked at Lambert, and the ends of his hair that had been sticking out of his hat were crusted with frost and snow.
“Hey…” Eskel reached out towards a red curl, but stopped before he actually touched it. “Your hair is frozen…”
“You don’t fucking say.” Lambert ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling the ends to knock all the snow free.
Eskel watched and imagined pulling his fingers through each and every curl, one by one.
Instead he hung up his gear and cleared his throat. “It’s still early - you want to watch a movie?” He tossed his house keys on the table by the door.
“Nah, I think I’ll turn in. Maybe have a wank.”
Eskel nearly choked on his next breath. Lambert was so matter-of-fact about sex in all its forms, and he had never quite gotten used to it. “Yeah, okay. Night then.”
“Night.”
Eskel watched Lambert head up the stairs, and then shrugged and decided to go to bed too. With the storm howling outside, he thought it would be a good night to cozy up under some blankets and watch a movie.
He slipped his shirt and jeans off, grabbed his laptop and crawled under the covers. He began to idly click through some Netflix options.
But the thoughts whirling through his brain had nothing to do with what movie he might choose. He remembered Lambert leaning against him at the party, arm around his shoulder, dizzy with his scent. He thought about lacing his fingers through Lambert’s hair, and pulling him closer, tasting the whiskey. He thought about what Lambert was doing right now in his room.
“Fuck.”
He was already hard. He closed Netflix and instead opened a folder of his favourite porn. He picked a video of a man with his build - big and burly - getting his dick sucked by a thinner, muscular man. He didn’t have red hair, but…
He pushed the covers off, squirted a bit of lube onto his hand, and began stroking himself when all of a sudden, Lambert burst through his door.
“Eskel, my laptop just died on me, can I- oh, fuck!”
“Fuck!” Eskel slammed his laptop closed and grabbed for his blanket to cover himself up, his heart hammering and cheeks burning.
“Oh, fuck, sorry man. I just- my laptop finally quit on me, so I was going to see if I could borrow yours… but I can see you’re using it. Wow, that was fast, Eskel. It’s been like two minutes.”
Eskel shut his eyes, willing himself to go back in time to when this had never happened.
And then Lambert said the absolute last fucking thing Eskel ever expected in the whole godsdamned universe.
“Can I… watch it with you?” Like it was some sort of normal question.
Eskel’s eyes snapped open. Lambert was watching him with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“What?” WHAAAAT???
“Come on, man. What is it? Move over.” So casual.
Eskel let out a strangled noise as Lambert plopped himself down next to him.
“Lambert- I… my dick’s out.” Was this actually happening?
Lambert reached for Eskel’s laptop and opened it again, tapping in Eskel’s password. “What do we have here?” He hit play on the video Eskel had been watching. His eyes on the screen, he said, “I can help, you know. I don’t mind.” He may as well have been discussing the weather.
Eskel’s brain wasn’t working. “You… what?” he sputtered.
“I can help you out.” Lambert nodded at Eskel’s crotch. “Get you off.”
Eskel stared at him, head spinning. Holy fuck. “That’s… not a good idea.”
“Why not? It’s not a big deal.”
“Because we live and work together?” Because this might ruin everything.
Lambert shrugged and grinned. “Seems like a good idea to me.”
Did this man never get flustered about anything? Maybe it’s actually not a big deal? Maybe I’m overthinking things?
Eskel’s brain seemed like it was trying to come to some sort of sensible conclusion, but his dick was not that interested in said conclusion. It had softened from the sheer terror of Lambert bursting into his room, but now it approved of Lambert’s suggestion.
Eskel finally nodded wordlessly. If Lambert asks if he can jerk you off, you say yes. And if this was a bad idea, he’d think about that tomorrow.
Lambert slid his hand under the blanket and found Eskel half-hard. “Melitele’s cock…” he breathed.
“I don’t think she has a cock…”
“No, but you sure do.” Lambert pulled the blanket off and unabashedly stared at Eskel’s dick, eyes wide. “Fuck, Eskel. I knew you were big, but… fuck.”
Eskel blushed furiously. He’d heard it before, of course, but hearing Lambert say it…
Lambert began to stroke him and Eskel returned to full hardness quickly. Any lingering doubts vanished from his mind and now he just wanted whatever Lambert was going to give him. He leaned back on his hands. “Oh, fuck…”
He knew he should keep his eyes on the laptop screen but he couldn't stop himself from watching the hand touching him. Lambert’s hands were rough from all the work he did with knives, and the brush of the tough calluses on Eskel’s velvety skin sent sparks skittering down his spine.
And then Lambert started talking. “Do you like this?”
“Yeah,” Eskel blushed, but it turned into a groan when Lambert squeezed a little harder.
“Tell me how it feels.” His voice was low now, almost urgent.
Eskel’s cheeks burned. He was not used to this. “Feels so good… fuck.” He rocked his hips a little into Lambert’s hand.
“Gods, your dick is huge.” Lambert’s hand twisted around the shaft, and he flicked his fingers over the head, wiping off the precome. Eskel groaned again, his breaths coming faster.
Lambert shifted closer, their thighs touching. Eskel could smell his aftershave again.
Lambert’s hand began to pump a little faster. “Are you gonna come soon?”
Eskel nodded. He really was. He was ready to fucking explode. “Gods, yeah.” He reached for a washcloth on his bedside table but Lambert took it from him.
“I’ve got it. You just relax.”
Lambert knew exactly what to do, and Eskel felt his orgasm building.
Just as he felt the tightening in his balls, Lambert growled, “Come now, Eskel.”
Those words put him over the edge. He came with a long, low moan, feeling the heat flood his body, his skin tingling.
Lambert worked him through it, neatly catching every drop of come in the towel.
Eskel sagged back into the pillows, panting, as he pulled the blanket back over his lap. Lambert was watching the screen again, but he definitely looked a little smug.
And now what the fuck do I say? That was good? Thank you??? Wait, should he reciprocate the offer? The thought of touching Lambert like that sent his heart racing again. But it seemed like he should...
“Did you want me to… I can…” He gestured in the general direction of Lambert’s groin where an obvious hard-on strained against his sweats.
“Nah, I’m good. Maybe next time,” Lambert smirked at him. He hopped off the bed. “Night.” And he was gone.
Eskel blinked, suddenly wondering if he had hallucinated the whole thing. And also…
Next time???