Where I Stand

In Another Life

"You're too tense," Aiden hisses into Lambert's ear, drawing his hand up the other man's shirt. He hides the words with a glazed expression and easy smile, one that would signify he's whispering something filthy as far as any onlookers are concerned. He accompanies them with a nip to Lambert's earlobe, followed by an open mouthed kiss.

The Wolf shivers and adjusts his hand around Aiden's waist. "M'not tense," he whispers back.

Aiden kisses his ear again. "Yeah, you are. If you don't look the part he'll notice something is up."

"Fuck you. How am I supposed to look?"

Aiden chuckles as if he told a joke, then tugs the collar of Lambert's shirt open further, slipping a hand inside to feel along his chest. "Like you're enjoying yourself for one," he murmurs, kissing up the witcher's neck. "You have a very expensive whore in your lap. Be happy about it." At the word "whore" he feels Lambert swallow.

"I still don't like this plan." His eyes flit to the hoards of people around the room. Many of them are in the throes of pleasure already, some having split off into couples or threes, while others participate in relations with larger amounts of people. It's mostly nobility of course, but there are courtesans from numerous prestigious brothels too, all hired by Lord Virak to make his "get together" all the more enjoyable. "I don't like strangers watching me, and I definitely don't want to watch them."

Aiden's lips hover a hair's breadth over Lambert's, teasing a kiss. His body aches to close the distance between them, but he has to stick to his role and prostitutes don't kiss. At least not without receiving additional payment beforehand. "No one's watching you, pup. That's what I'm for."

Lambert pulls him closer, hand slowly caressing the exposed skin of Aiden's midsection. "I don't want them watching you, either."

"Don't worry about them," Aiden whispers, biting Lambert's lip before kissing across his jaw. "Focus on me."

He knows the task should be easy enough considering that Lambert hasn't been able to take his eyes off Aiden all evening. Him and many other guests.

This was all Aiden's idea of course. Lambert's was far more...direct, and while that's not a bad way of handling things, Lord Virak specifically asked that they not ruin his party. It would look bad on him, after all, if word got out that a vampire was killing his guests every time he threw one. And they probably wouldn't take too kindly to a pair of witchers killing said vampire in front of them either, so subtly is key here. Luckily for them and Lord Virak both, the Madam of the Prancing Peacock owes Aiden a favour, so it was a quick fix to acquire him an outfit and smuggle him into the party with her courtesans. Now all he has to do is attract the attention of their target and lure him somewhere secluded so that Lambert can finish the job.

Aiden's ears jingle as he kisses his way down Lambert's chest. He's practically draped in gold, the glittering jewellery covering more of him than the flimsy turquoise outfit he borrowed from one of the other whores. Its more fitted to a woman than to a man; with a billowing skirt that is nothing more than a strip of cloth at the front and back attached to a gold belt, and a cropped, see-through top that leaves nothing to the imagination. But at the Prancing Peacock all the whores wear the same thing, save for alternating shades of blues, greens, and purples. Around his neck he wears a pendant with a blue stone, one that Virak's mage enchanted to hide the slit pupils of his eyes and dull them to a more common shade of green.

"Thread your fingers through my hair," Aiden whispers against Lambert's chest.

"Why?"

"Because you've hardly touched me, and I'm gorgeous. You'll stand out otherwise. You're supposed to be paying for this, remember?"