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Vesemir hadn’t thought much of the strange scent that wafted through the area, strange but familiar. Golden eyes darted around the courtyard of Kaer Morhen, he could recognize he was being watched from where he stood on the overlook. The elder Witcher pondered for a moment knowing that the gaze was not from one of the inhabitants of the stronghold.
A simple thought crossed his mind, unlikely, but not impossible. He was here. A thought that Vesemir was almost sure would never echo these halls again. A memory of a man, only slightly younger than himself, a name that brought emotions to a Witcher. Another near impossibility.
Aureum.
“You called?” Vesemir must’ve said that outloud for when he turned, there stood the bastard. Unlike Vesemir, Aureum had not aged within the past few hundred years, during which the two had no contact. This was due to a simple fact, he was not just a Cat Witcher, but also a Sorcerer by natural talent. Trained by the Mages as he underwent his trials, and mutations. Meaning he aged like a true magic user, despite being close to three-hundred, he did not look any older than mid-twenties, possibly thirties given his heavy scarring.
His hair was long, white as snow as was his skin, with a shaggy braid draped along his back; the same style Vesemir had remembered from his youth. He gazed at Vesemir with one eye swirled between a light yellow, and a light green; while the other was majority green. Aureum’s face was marred with scars, some Vesemir noted were new, and short in length, others which descended into his chest plate from injuries sustained from borderline vivisection.
He inhaled shakily at the shorter, younger feline. Refusing to betray himself even in the presence of something that knew him better than his pups did. “How are you here?” Vesemir attempted to keep his tone neutral, but for once in centuries he found himself slipping. They stood at equal distance, a smirk forming on the feline Witcher’s lips. Aureum took a step forward, not needing to use his enhanced reflexes to catch Vesemir by surprise as he pulled the older down by the leather strap securing his tunic, kissing him without a lick of hesitation.
In the exact manner Vesemir remembered, but rougher. Two old tongues trying to see if their memory maps of each other's mouths are correct. Before they pulled away, smirk softening to a smile. “Because I had time for you old wolf, time for catch up, time for a tryst like the ones had before we were a century old. Like cat, and dog, but we can go at it like rabbits.” He moved his hands from the strap to Vesemir’s shoulders, looking over the man fondly.
Vesemir smirked back to meet the smile, a subtle gesture, he could use a moment of reprieve from the noise of Geralt, and his women; maybe a moment of revenge. He may be older, but that did not mean he no longer had the energy to break an old acquaintance’s holes. He pondered if Aureum was still a masochist, would still enjoy a few broken ribs from a rough Witcher coupling.
He would still go through with it even if his tastes had changed, for the younger also frustrated him, but Vesemir was wise enough to know that Aureum had many reasons for keeping from the keep, and him, for so long. Vesemir placed his hand on the other Witcher’s hip, relishing in the sound of approval from the other. A low rumbling purr, not unlike that of one of his wolves.
Aureum let his hands travel down the older’s torso, feeling him up through the armor. Amazed at how the muscle still retained itself in his older age, but not surprised, he knew Vesemir took training seriously. Despite wolves having more bulk than cats, Aureum’s build was also nothing to scoff at. Lean muscle built on the dodging of attacks, casting of magic, and swinging of blades, he was impressive in his own right; even if he wasn’t nearly as huge as Vesemir.
Aureum went to steal the armor off of Vesemir’s body, so he could reap the feast for his eyes to behold, however he found his hands being peeled from Vesemir’s body. The older Witcher took both of his wrists in only one of his hands, tutting at him like he was a disobedient pup, before dipping into criticism, and peeling the other’s pants from his body.
Vesemir pinned the smaller torso against a flat surface, almost growling as he heard a hiss from Aureum. A sign of competition, a sign that the chilly air of Kaer Morhen had reached his slickening cunt after Vesemir pulled him free of his undergarments. “Still an exhibitionist, eh kitty?” “Getting weak, old wolf?” That comment set Vesemir’s mind on a path, one that involved using his free hand to push on his back until his ribcage threatened to snap. He delighted in the sharp inhale, relishing in the wisp of a whine as he attacked.
Vesemir felt confident in his strength, leading to him releasing Aureum’s wrists, only to use that hand to yank his hair. The burn in Aureum’s scalp caused him to throw his head back with a small moan, hiss finally escaping his body as Vesemir assaulted his neck with his teeth, and tongue.
Bloodying the younger’s neck with deep gauges from his teeth, embracing every noise of pleasure that his sharp fangs wrang out of the other. Sucking bruises next to the bloodied gashes, he knew he would never get away with doing this to a cheap harlot; or if their necks would even survive the bite force, and long sharpened teeth of a WItcher.
When he felt that the marks were enough, he released the hair from his grip, watching as Aureum’s head fell forward. Leaving no room for reprieve as he dug a finger into his wet heat, shoving it in all the way to the start of his fingerless chainmail gloves. Vesemir watched as Aureum’s mouth fell open, groaning at the thick finger starting to bully his insides. Hissing once more as Vesemir shoved another one in there, and as he wriggled not even a mere inch, Vesemir took that as incentive to pin him down to the desk roughly with a single hand, and his weight.
Once more not giving him a second, he put pressure to his clit as he thrust his fingers inside of him, shoving him down with his weight; the two of them enjoying the creaking of his bones threatening to snap, and the tightening of his insides as Vesemir assaulted Aureum’s good spot.
As drool dribbled from his mouth, the older withdrew his hand. Ignoring the snarl of defiance from the feline. The emptiness made Aureum frustrated, he felt the lack of stimulation dragged on for too long, this feeling was quickly remedied as he heard Vesemir taking his cock out of his trousers; felt the dip of his weight let up as he stood up straighter.
“Maybe you're actually getting old, have you forgotten what to do nex-” He couldn’t finish the mocking statement, Vesemir had flipped him onto his back. Expression dark, hunger lacing his golden eyes, pupils thin as he growled low, taking offense to the comment. Aureum barely had a chance to read him before he felt a hand at his throat, and a blunt cockhead at his hole. Vesemir slammed his large dick home, Aureum caught in a silent scream, his airflow was halted as the abuse of his intestines began.
His hands flew up to grip Vesemir’s wrist, scratching as his strength was sapped from him, thrusts brutal enough to nearly tear his walls; which were gripping Vesemir’s cock like a virgin sacrifice. The younger Witcher’s mouth open as his eyes rolled back, oxygen cut off to his head, deprivation honing the already enhanced Witcher senses he possessed.
Vesemir removed his hand when Aureum’s face began to discolour, taking pride in how easily he made the other gasp, and struggle for air. Deciding that the bleeding scratches on his wrist warranted punishment, Vesemir leaned down to bite into the junction of Aureum’s shoulder. Biting the area into a bloody mess, hoping that the surrounding bruise could not be erased by any potion for a while, even Swallow. Uncaring if his collarbone or shoulder blade snapped; he wished that Aureum could cry from the pain, because his tears would be beautiful.
Without warning he pulled out, Aureum barely out of the haze of oxygen deprivation was confused. Making a noise that reflected his state before being flipped onto his belly once more, blood running onto the stones, and wood, as he was slammed back down. Bracing his teeth into the materials as he felt Vesemir slam into his cunt again, wheezing as the brutal pace began once more.
His back arched, only to be shoved by Vesemir’s weight to straighten him out again.
Vesemir put a hand between his shoulder blades, pushing down as he thrust hard into Aureum’s cervix. Eyes going wide as his cunt constricted tighter before he felt the snap of two of his ribs breaking, orgasm hitting him hard as he let out a wail. Blabbering as Vesemir attempted to go strong, but the milking method of Aureum’s insides proved too much for the older Wolf Witcher, groaning as he stuffed his knot into the other.
Ropes of cum pumping into his body, causing Aureum to twitch in mock-overstimulation; for the gods know that Witchers can go for so much longer, even at their age. They had no time to process, however, as they heard the footsteps of the rest of the place’s inhabitants. “What the genuine fuck-”