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sweet like cinnamon

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Geralt was mostly asleep when Eskel rolled over in bed and said, "You know Lambert?"

Geralt sleepily cracked an eye open. "Yes, Eskel, I know your boyfriend who's asleep in the same house we are in and who made us all dinner 5 hours ago, who I have lived with for two years now and known since we were kids."

Eskel flicked him in the forehead, but lightly. “Dick. Sorry, just... This is serious, alright? I just… he's been really dysphoric lately and uncomfortable with sex and I don't know how to help. I don’t know how to make him feel better."

Geralt pried his other eye open. Apparently this would be more of a conversation than planned. "That is a problem."

"Mmhmm." Eskel sighed, shifting so he could rest his head on Geralt's shoulder. "Can you...I don't know, try and talk to him?"

"I’ll spoil him rotten for it,” Geralt promised. “And talk, too.”

Lambert was at the stove when they finally got downstairs in the morning, and Eskel made the sweetest little punched out noise as he made a beeline to him. Geralt smiled as he watched Lambert yelp at arms wrapping around his waist and Eskel kissing up his neck, but it was very sweet, and there were delicious omelets for breakfast.

Geralt made it most of the way through the meal before saying, “So, Lambert. We should fuck so you can get used to new kinds of sex. Thoughts?”

Lambert promptly choked on his orange juice.

It took approximately two weeks of convincing that Geralt’s actually serious, and then Lambert stomped into Geralt’s bedroom one night that he was supposed to be in Eskel’s bed, put his hands on his hips, and demanded, “Well, fuck me then.”

“Okay,” Geralt said easily, looking up from his book. Lambert went a beautiful shade of red. Eskel, who walked in behind him, made a noise like he’d been punched in the gut. “Can Eskel watch, or are we kicking him out?”

“The voyeur can stay, if he behaves,” Lambert said with a haughtiness that he couldn’t quite make real, and Geralt just smiled, snapping his book shut and tossing it on the bedside table.

“Well, better strip then.”

Lambert hesitated, looking at Eskel. Eskel looked back. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“What, watching both my partners in bed with each other? Watching Geralt get to spoil you with all the nice things you deserve? Watching Geralt and you at least make out? Fuck, how will I survive.”

Lambert rolled his eyes, relaxing. “Horny bastard.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Eskel said, and caught his jaw to pull him into a kiss. Lambert shivered pleasantly, going pliant in his grip, and Geralt licked his lips as he watched Lambert melt against Eskel’s broad form. When Eskel pulled back, he purred, “Be good for Geralt, baby.”

Lambert stuck his tongue out, but obediently started to pull his clothes off as Eskel went to sit in the chair. Geralt, who’d been lounging comfortably nude, enjoyed the view. Lambert hesitated as he pulled off his shirt, but tossed it aside to reveal a lovely lace bralette straining to hold a very lovely pair of new tits. Geralt groaned, pulling the covers off and standing up to fish through a pile of things for a towel.

“What’s that for?” Lambert asked, suspicious.

“Me,” Geralt said, tossing it on the bed. “Give it a few minutes and I’m going to be soaked just from looking at you.”

Lambert looked torn between flattered and nervous, and shucked off the long skirt he’d been wearing to reveal matching lace underneath. Geralt sprawled back in bed, licking his lips.

“Eskel get you those?”

Lambert shook his head, fidgeting with the adorable little bows on the sides of the underwear. “I um. Bought them for myself.”

“Good choice. So, in bed. He, they? Anywhere I shouldn’t touch?”

Lambert bit his lip. “He, I think. And I don’t want you playing with my ass.”

“Fair enough. Don’t stick anything in me and we’ll get along perfectly. C’mere,” Geralt crooned, beckoning, and Lambert nervously came over. “C’mon, Lamb, up on the bed here. Come straddle me so I can get a good look at you.”

After a hesitant look at Eskel, Lambert climbed onto the bed and carefully onto Geralt’s lap. Geralt’s dick, which was plenty long for his purposes, was already red and straining, and he groaned as Lambert carefully straddled his hips.

"Look at you," he breathed. "Beautiful already and you aren't even done."

Lambert went a delicate shade of pink. "Shut up."

"Don’t want to," Geralt said, savoring the view and smoothing a hand down the soft skin of Lambert’s side. The dip where his waist has started to dip inward was mouth watering, the new plushness and width of his hips beautiful. His pelvis had started to shift a bit ago, early but not unexpected. His tits were growing in nicely, hanging pretty on his chest in perfect little handfuls, his hair grown out almost to the start of the curve. Lambert’s toes curled as Geralt smoothed his hands over his chest. "Fuck, look at you. How’s Eskel able to even keep his hands off of you?”

“Mostly because I tell him no and if he complains I step on his dick until he cries,” Lambert said dryly, and Geralt laughed, reaching around to unhook the band with one hand. There were only the two hooks, barely a moment’s work, and Lambert bit his lip as his tits relaxed forward, already overgrown the cups holding them back. Geralt pulled the bralette off and flicked it over to Eskel without even looking, eyes fixed on Lambert’s chest.

He gently cupped the soft curve of breast in his hand and smoothed a thumb over the soft pebble of a nipple, and watched Lambert shudder with it. "Have you been sore?"

“A bit,” Lambert said, and his voice had gone small and nervous. “So what?”

“Just means I need to be nice and gentle,” Geralt said. “Ready?”

“For wha- holy shit!”

Geralt grabbed him by the waist and in one smooth move had flipped them, pressing Lambert down into the mattress. He bent down to gently run his tongue over the swell of his breast. Lambert made a shocked little noise, arching up into it, and Geralt ever so gently ran his teeth over on the way back down.

“Oh, fuck,” Lambert breathed, fingers threading into his hair. “That. That’s new. That’s nice.”

“You’re going to be really sensitive here for a long time,” Geralt said, tonguing over the nipple again to make Lambert squirm. “Maybe forever. Mine were so small they were always begging for attention, it was nice. Work them nicely and you might even be able to get off on it.”

“No way.”

Geralt chuckled, sucking the nipple into his mouth. Lambert whined, arching up under him and gasping. Geralt let go with a little pop, licking his lips. “Yes, way. They’re so cute, no wonder Eskel’s all over you all the time.”

Lambert squirmed, looking away. Geralt caught his face in his hand, forcing him to turn back. “Hey, don’t run away. What’s wrong?”

“I’m- I’m not right,” Lambert muttered, making a face. “Not yet. I’m awkward, and clunky, and I don’t look like myself anymore, or yet, I don’t know.”

“Mmm, but you know what we see?” Geralt said, and kissed him, slow and sweet. Lambert melted into it without even meaning to, letting out the sweetest little moan as Geralt urged his mouth open to deepen it. He could hear Eskel shifting in his seat, and slid his hand up to stroke and tweak at Lambert’s sweet little tit again, making him tremble. When he finally pulled away Lambert’s eyes were hazy, his mouth hanging invitingly open for more kisses as he panted.

“You look more like yourself every day,” Geralt promised. “That’s what we see. And one day you’ll see yourself exactly how you want to look. Day by day you get closer, I promise you.”

Lambert licked his lips and nodded, his eyes brightening a little.

“Now,” Geralt said, bending back down to kiss his neck. “Can I spoil you, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Lambert breathed, turning his head to give him better access.

Geralt bit down, and Lambert writhed, whining. Geralt could hear Eskel swallow from across the room, and smiled against his skin. That was the fun thing about estrogen, after all. The urge to fuck might go down, but the body was so much more active and fun to tweak out responses from, erogenous zones getting massive and tender, intimacy that more intense.

He worshipped every inch of Lambert’s body, finding the tender spots that had him begging and whimpering. The sweet little tits were lovingly worshipped and nipped at, with a tongue to soothe the ache. His neck was equally loved, his collarbones leaving him trembling. Places on his ribs made him writhe, bruising bites sucked into the curves of his hips had his hands in Geralt’s hair to keep him in place. Finally, when Lambert was sweat soaked and shaking, Geralt kissed his way back up his torso, pausing for a quick kiss to each heaving swell of chest, and caught his mouth in a hungry, deep kiss once again. Lambert was gasping for breath, and cried out as Geralt’s hands squeezed his hips, running over the jut of his hipbones.

“There you go,” Geralt urged as Lambert choked on sweet, gasping cries, fragments of Eskel’s name and Geralt’s. “It’s alright, sweetheart, whenever you want.”

All it took in the end was the gentle brush of fingers along the length of Lambert’s beautiful, weeping cock through the lace and he was arching up against Geralt, head tipping back and toes curling at the sweet, gentle luxury of it all, moans swallowed up by Geralt’s mouth on his. He was beautiful, shaking and sweet, face all blissed out in pure pleasure, arms thrown around Geralt’s shoulders to hold him and keep from shaking apart. Geralt reached down and finished himself off as he mouthed down Lambert’s neck, shuddering as he came with a hard, vicious spine rush of pleasure.

Lambert collapsed back on the bed, panting, and Geralt followed him down, pinning him to the bed with his weight. After a moment, he sat up enough to catch Lambert’s jaw and make him turn his head to look at Eskel.

“There you go,” he murmured, as Lambert drank in the sight of Eskel, flushed and clutching the chair, a dark mark on his jeans and Lambert’s lace bralette over one leg, all innocent. “Got him to come just by watching us, pretty thing.”

Lambert grinned, sweaty and pleased. Geralt smoothed his hair back, catching his mouth in another sweet kiss as Eskel groaned. When Geralt pulled back, Lambert’s hand came up to tangle in his long hair.

“So…” Lambert said, eyes big and mischievous. “When can we go again?”