bakerstreet | We deserve this.

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[meme] shipping

We deserve this.

Deserve to be Happy

If we're honest, fictional characters can be generalized into two camps: 1. good people who have crap happen to them or 2. just crappy people. But bad or good, cheery or grouchy, undeserving or no, we sometimes shamelessly want them to have something nice in life. Or, more accurately, someone nice. A certain someone to give them kisses and their favorite foods, to make sure they have a blanket when they fall asleep, and maybe to whisk them away on fun dates/adventures? If they're lucky, this somebody may even give killer back rubs.

But forget your shame, okay? No judgement here. This is just a cute meme for all your gross (shipping) needs, where your character can get all the happiness they deserve...or don't. Whatever!

Comment with your character's info, your prefs, all those goodies. You can also include info about what would make your character really happy or if there's a particular role you'd like to play (maybe the one doing the cheering up?).
Reply to others.
Be presh.

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He half-assumes there's been a change of plans and rolls back from Lambert, emphatically with his hands not touching the other witcher until he's told it's alright to do otherwise. His own smalls feel a little tight but he leaves them for now.

"Yeah? You okay?"

"Yeah, fine, I just..." Now that he can do so, he sits up and quickly strips his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. His smalls follow after a bit of an awkward maneuver. "Better," he whispers with a resolute nod. "Put your hands back on me."

"Oh good." He laughs, rolling Lambert back into his arms, back to chest. "Scared me for a minute." He buries his face back in Lambert's shoulder. "You can say no whenever you like." He promises, gravely. "But I really hope that you don't. Not tonight." He draws a hand down Lambert's chest, skimming over the muscles of his stomach to his hip.

"Tell me how you want me to sort you out." He asks, his coarse voice even rougher for being pitched low against Lambert's ear.

Lambert laughs with him, his fingers going right back to tangle in Eskel's hair. "I'd never say no to you." A soft sigh slips past his lips. "Just like this. Close."

"Okay." Eskel says, from somewhere just behind Lambert's ear as one hand slips between Lambert's thighs to tease and stroke his cock. Anything to stay close, to get as much touch as he can.

He nips at Lambert's shoulder again but it seems a bridge too far to bite him. He wants to be careful with Lambert, like he was when they were younger men. And he's not wholly sure what's got the younger wolf in such dire need of comfort to turn to something that-- while not expressly forbidden-- might be considered beneath his dignity. And until he figures out what that is, he's not going to push anything too much. Just slow, lazy strokes for the moment. Every sense tuned to Lambert's.

Not that he wasn't enjoying himself, as Lambert can no doubt plainly feel on the back of his thighs.

Much like when they were younger, Lambert is more than willing to let Eskel take the lead. He props his top leg up, giving the other room to do as he pleases and showing that he'll obey. A rare thing for the young wolf. He can certainly feel that the older witcher is enjoying it. So he lets go of Eskel's hair and reaches back to tug at his smallclothes, at his hip, trying to get him to move.

What he needs is to have someone else in control, because he doesn't feel like he can trust himself right now. And maybe he is still a little shaken from their bar fight, because he doesn't want to lose anyone else, least of all Eskel.

Maybe he'll admit to that after.

For now, it's enough to just let the older wolf take care of him and work up him up slowly.

The acquiescence answers many of his questions and Eskel holds the other Wolf tightly as he continues stroking his cock.

"It's alright, Lamb, I've got you." He promises. "It's alright." He kisses the witcher's shoulder. "Roll over for me, on your belly."

"I know."

Cheeks burning, he does as he's told, closing his eyes and burying his nose in the pillow to breathe in the other's scent. And then he thinks to ask, "You got oil, right?" Because Lambert had given no thought into creeping through the hall to Eskel's door, only following the impulse to go.

"Yeah, I've got something." Eskel promises, running his hand down Lambert's back. It's not, unfortunately, too different from the way he would soothe a nervous animal. He kisses between Lambert's shoulderblades and the shuffles over under the blankets (trying to disturb them as little as possible in the cold room; the wind has come up and there's definitely a draft Eskel didn't remember from last year) to rummage around on a low shelf next to the bed. The oil he brings back smells like leather, so thick and smooth it's almost grease and he offers it to Lambert.

"Will that do?" He asks. It's the stuff they use on their boots and the horses' tack.

Lambert pushes himself up enough to watch. The blankets have slipped from his shoulders, and he can feel the chill in the room, so he makes a mental note to help Eskel fix that later. For tonight, body heat will work.

When he's presented with the oil, he nods and meets Eskel's eyes for the first time since he'd come slinking in. "I can bring something better next time. If you want." If he isn't turned away and told this was a one-time thing. "'S good for soothing sore muscles, too, so when the old man sets us to work, I can fix you right up," he adds with a little grin.

He won't promise Lambert a next time, but he won't deny him a next time either. He's completely focused only on this moment.

"Oh, somebody's developing fancy tastes out there in the wide world?" Eskel teases, slicking up his fingers and reaching to stroke Lambert's cock once more, leaning over to kiss and bite across the other witcher's shoulders.

Lambert goes to sneer at being teased, but the feeling of a rough hand around his cock smooths his features right back out, and his voice maybe comes out not so biting. "Yeah, and why shouldn't I? W-what's wrong with nice things?" Other than the price he often had to pay for them. His head drops back to the pillow, hips lifting and knees shifting a little wider.

"Shhhhh." Eskel says, ruffling the younger man's hair, pressing him into the pillows momentarily. "It's alright." His slick fingers work over the younger witcher's cock as he leans in close to whisper in Lambert's ear. "Do you want me to get you off just like this or do you want more?" His fingers tease up the back of Lambert's thigh, to the curve of his backside. An unspoken question.

The ghosting of breath over his ear and the fingers teasing up his thigh make Lambert shiver, and it takes him a moment to register that Eskel's asking him something. It's just a tiny bit difficult to get the words out. But he knows this won't be enough to shut his mind off for a while, so he does his best.

"More. Need more."

"Good." Sufficiently assured as to his fellow Wolf's needs, Eskel applies another layer of grease to his fingers, experientially pressing one into Lambert while rubbing his back soothingly. "You just relax, Lamb, I've got you."

Lambert nods, keeping himself relaxed, and the finger slips in easily enough. But he knows it's been a while for both of them. So he doesn't argue about the gentle treatment or the comforting words.

Just because he knows Lambert can take some rough handling doesn't mean he's going to push it. At least at this point. He thrusts in his finger, one hand braced on Lambert's shoulders, pressing down. He wouldn't hold Lambert down but the touch is...bracing, certainly.

When he's sure he can, he adds a second finger.

Having a hand braced on his shoulders is nice, but it doesn't keep the young witcher from moving. Especially when he feels a second finger prodding at him. He tries to stay quiet, not wanting to risk their mentor interrupting (because wouldn't that ruin everything), but a few soft moans manage to escape.

Eskel's free hand shifts up from Lambert's shoulders and into his hair, gripping at the root and holding fast as he begins to slowly thrust his fingers. Focusing all his attention on the other Witcher.

Lambert hisses at the tug on his hair. With each thrust, he pushes back into it, already eager to please the older Wolf.

Lambert's so eager to please, completely surrendering and it makes Eskel's heart ache. He's determined to give Lambert what he needs and he speeds up the work of his fingers, hoping to get the other witcher relaxed, and give him more than a little pleasure in the bargain.

"Esk..." It comes out as a whimper, the rest of what he'd meant to say dying on his tongue. He's bared to the other witcher, plenty relaxed, but he's still finding it hard to say what he wants.

"Yeah?" A note of encouragement in the rough voice. A dexterous curling of rough fingers. He needs to hear Lambert say it. Wants him to, the note of need in the witcher's voice making his cock twitch and ache.

Lambert moans, trying to bury his face in the pillow and crying out when he's reminded that Eskel has a grip on his hair. "I want--need you."

"Tell me what you want." Eskel says, not relinquishing his grip on the witcher's hair. "You know I'd do anything for you, but I need to hear you say it." He does, however, shift so that Lambert can feel his hard cock against his spread thighs.

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