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"Fucking helll..the old man is relentless!!" Lambert wines as he throws open the door to Ekels room. The short scruffy black haired Witcher dressed in a tunic and loose pants.
"What did he do this time and why are you in my room?" Eskel asks without even looking up from his book.
"Fix this, fix that, stop being a pain. And then he made me run the Killer!!" Lambert grumbles as he trudges over to the bed anyways.
"To be fair you blew up the lab because you got impatient, but that still doesn't answer my second question." Eskel sighs as he looks up just in time for Lambert to shoo his hands out of the way and climb on top of him.
"My room is cold and my pillow sucks, now move this." The wolf grumbles as he pushes Eskels shirt up and then buries his face into the others doughy midsection.
Winter had caught up to him quickly, he'd been almost bone getting back and being able to fill his belly every night in the safety of home meant the pounds piled on quickly. It was, almost embarrassing how round he'd gotten. How his arms were so thick they filled out his sleeves and how almost every inch of him had a layer of blubber hiding the hardened muscles beneath. But at the same time god's did he feel good.
"You forever will confuse me…earlier you were ribbing me on how round I'd gotten and now you're like a cat in a warm spot." Eskel sighs.
Lambert gives a small whine into the side of Eskels warm belly. "Don't say cat…and it's not a bad thing..you always look better when you're doughy.."
"If only the rest of the world agreed." Eskel sighs as he rubs Lambert's head a bit and tries to go back to reading.
"Rest of the world calling you lazy again..?" Geralt grumbles tiredly as he shuffles in through the door.
"Hah! Fuckers should try fighting something. They'll learn quickly how helpful a layer of fat is when it comes to a claw across the gut.." Lambert growls against Eskel. Letting out small huff and trying to settle again as he looks at one of the many pale scars torn across Eskels tummy.
"Mm..scoot over both of you…." Geralt mumbles.
"Really you too?" Eskel complains while moving anyways. Shuffling Lambert along as Geralt climbs onto the bed.
By the time all three of them settle, Eskel is on his side with Geralt pressed against his back, hiding a cold nose in his shoulder blades. An equally cold hand resting on and tucking into the roll that spills over Eskel's hip. Geralt's other arm having now become Eskels pillow. Meanwhile Lambert has wiggled down and tucked into a ball. Face still insistently buried in all that warm slightly furry dough. Arm swung around Eskels waist and hugging him since it's now trapped between Eskel's back and Geralt's stomach.
Much as the brown wolf could complain, he really didn't want to. Pile had gotten smaller, but ever since he was little he'd been the biggest and the warmest in the group. So getting used as everything from a mattress to a blanket by the skinnier easily frozen boys was nothing new. And it always made him feel a lot better about the pounds he would pile on in the freedom of winter.
Because at home everything was safe, and very little was judged. So compared to the long horrible path awaiting them on the other side of spring. This could at least be comfortable.