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31 Kinky Ways to Show You Care

Chapter Text

Saovine. The effigy of Falka ablaze in the middle of the manor gardens. Geralt watched the crowd of merrymakers and rabble rousers from behind his mask. Most were only here because the Vegelbud’s were renowned throughout all of Novigrad and the surrounding areas for their lavish masquerade banquets, full of more food and good booze than all of the inns in Oxenfurt. Some were here to try and inch up the social ladder of course, the rest were just here to eat, drink, and try not to get kicked out before they passed out. Geralt was here because after securing Albert’s freedom from the witch hunters Ingrid had taken to calling him when she felt there might be a need for protection of a more select variety. Discretion was hard to come by, she would say. Gold was always welcome, so Geralt never argued.

Standing at the top of the grand stairs which lead from either side into the main residence Geralt surveyed the estate. Tables of meats, fruit, cheese, and pastries butted up against kegs of beer and ale. Men in tailored suits wandered around with silver trays offering tall glasses of bubbly wine Geralt knew from experience went to the average human’s head much faster than they would anticipate. He loved the stuff though. Everyone, everywhere was in a mask. Birds, bears, some stony grey animal with two horns on its nose. Geralt’s own mask was the same one he’d worn last time, no sense in buying a new one. A simple but elegant wolf, and this time he had forgone the tight annoying trousers. He was here because Ingrid was convinced that banshees would show up wailing for next years dead as the legends told. 

Geralt knew better than to believe that particular old wives tale but had been unable to convince the noble Vegelbud to save her gold. So he’d donned his wolf mask and kept his swords and armor with her express permission. It didn’t make the guards happy, and that in and of itself made Geralt very happy. He strode down the steps taking them two at a time with his long legs. Time to find some of that bubbly wine.

Wine in hand Geralt made his way down to the garden gate, intent on checking out the bonfire that once was Falka. The hinges barely creaked, swinging open and shut easily; Ingrid payed her people well to keep her estate in top shape. Entering the maze Geralt let his senses guide him in the right direction, following the crackle and pop of the fire towards the garden’s center. The noises got louder the closer Geralt got, voices and cheers mixing in with the hiss and snap of the fire and it angrily ate up the wood. The smell of oak and smoke was thick in the air, overwhelming Geralt’s nose but he thought he caught a whiff of juniper there too. Strange. That seemed out of place here, but then the huge bonfire rose up in front of him when he round the next hedge, knocking the thought from his mind.

The bubbles tickled Geralt’s throat as he finished off his glass and traded it for another. The revelers around him behaving well. Whether it was the sight of his swords or their state of inebriation he wasn’t sure. He didn’t really care either. A man was walking past the fire. Geralt took a moment to appreciate his form, well-muscle legs, strong thighs, and a gait as smooth as a river. Geralt was willing to take a bet that when the man walked past his backside was as pleasing as his front. He filled out his doublet well and Geralt let his eyes linger. The startling scent of juniper tingled just at the edge of his sense of smell again, bitter but not strong. Closing his eyes Geralt tried to hone in on it. Was it coming from the same direction as the man with the imposing stride? A hint of bourbon accompanied it now and if he didn’t know better-

Geralt was startled out of his thoughts by a firm hand on his hip, gripping just perfectly. Right were Eskel would. He looked up at the masked man and inhaled deeply. Fuck, his cock twitched at the smell. This man smelled like Eskel in every way. He looked like him too. Perfect stride, perfect legs, warm hand on Geralt’s hip, and shocking slitted amber eyes peeking out from behind the hawk masked that covered all but a small corner of his face. The feather mask spread out from those eyes Geralt was sure he knew, and came down his face, ending at the bottom of his cheek on one side. On the other side where Geralt knew Eskel’s scars lay more feathers swept down and over his jaw hiding them from sight. But Geralt knew it had to be Eskel and he was enthralled. 

The witcher said nothing to Geralt, only pressed at his hip, turning him away from the crowd and into the maze of the garden. Blindly and driven by sudden desire Geralt went where the masked witcher guided him. Off to a side path far away from the noise and the festivities. 

Geralt found himself turned around abruptly, the witcher’s warm mouth covering his, seeking entrance and teasing his tongue. Moaning, Geralt let himself fall into inhaling Eskel’s scent. Yes, this was his lover, he was sure of it now. No one kissed him both so aggressively and languidly at the same time as Eskel did. Hands grabbed his ass through his leathers, kneeding his cheeks wantonly, and Geralt whined into the next kiss for more.

Eskel tugged at the laces of Geralt’s leathers, palming his cock through them. He didn’t bother to take them off all the way before spinning Geralt around. Pressing Geralt down onto his hands and knees on the cold stone bench that sat at the dead end of the path they had taken. The cool autumn night air making his bare ass tighten at its touch, but then a warm hand was ghosting over it. Taking the chill away with it. And then another, spreading him apart, letting the cold night kiss his rosebud. The smooth warm wood and delicate feathers of the mask made Geralt jump when they brushed up against the cheeks of his ass and then he groaned low and deep when Eskel’s tongue swept over his entrance. Teasing him, licking him gently.

With every pass the feathers of Eskel’s hawk mask teased Geralt’s sensitive skin, making him shudder. He tried to stay quiet, knowing there were other people around, maybe even other lovers who had snuck off to do the same. Well not the same exactly, no one did things like Eskel did to him, and the point was driven home as the tip of Eskel’s tongue breached him. 

Geralt loosed a quiet muttered, “Fuck.” 

Cock hanging free underneath him, hardening further with each pass of Eskel’s tongue, Geralt wanted more. He wished he could put a hand on himself, but didn’t want to lose his hold on the narrow bench either. The feathers prickled against his skin when Eskel pulled away from his ass and Geralt groaned in frustration. Lowering himself on his arms he tried to press back against Eskel and follow his retreating touch.

Cool oil dribbled down his cleft and Geralt inhaled sharply. He’d been so distracted seeking the return of Eskel’s mouth he hadn’t heard the cork pop out of the vial even. Geralt swallowed roughly, unable to breathe for a moment when Eskel pushed two fingers into him at once. The burn was sudden but welcome and he leaned back into it urging Eskel on. Eskel stretched his fingers out scissoring them open and spreading Geralt apart. Fucking into him at a heady, dizzy pace, before adding a third.

Geralt laid his head on the bench, wolf mask slipping askew, cold stone pressing against his cheek. It felt good, calming even, as Eskel stretched him open wide. In the garden, where anyone could walk up at anytime. Vaguely he knew Eskel must be listening intently for partygoers who might wander too close, but instinctually the thrill was there. Anything was possible. What if he was caught, bent over on a bench like a common whore, ass in the air, fingers in his hole? 

“Argh, uhhng… fuck,” Geralt half cried, half moaned with Eskel replaced his fingers with his thick cock. It was slick and he’d slid it all the way home in one go. Rubbing up against Geralt’s prostate along the way. Eskel rocked back and set a steady pace. Geralt’s breath huffed out of him with each plunge of Eskel’s cock. Rhythmic and unrelenting. Slow glide out, solid thrust in. 

“Please, Eskel,” Geralt begged plaint and breathless. 

The angle changed, and every single powerful stroke brushed against Geralt’s prostate. White dotted his eyesight. Fuck. He could hardly breathe it was so pleasurable. So good, to have Eskel’s hands around his hips, fucking into him, so openly, where anyone could find them. Every rough breath Geralt was able to pull in brought the smell of Eskel. Of bourbon and juniper, clean skin freshly shaved, mixed with a tiny hint of leather, and both of their salty arousals. The next time the head of Eskel’s cock grazed over his prostate Geralt came. Splattering the bench below him with a moan. Ass gripping Eskel’s cock tightly as he fucked him through it and followed Geralt over into his own orgasm a few moments later. Thick cock pulsing into him as Eskel held himself deep inside, drawing a weak noise from Geralt.

Breathless, they stayed like that for several moments. Geralt half collapsed on the stone bench, ass in the air; Eskel heaving air in and out of his chest behind him, cock slipping softly out of his lover’s ass.

“Gods, I love you,” Eskel said with a laugh, hawk mask falling on the ground in front of Geralt as he scooped him up in his arms, bringing Geralt up to kneel on the bench with Eskel’s arms wrapped all the way around him. Soft cock hanging out for anyone to see with his leathers still around his knees. “How’d you know f’r sure it was me?”

“Mmm,” Geralt turned his head for a kiss. “The way you smelled. No one smells as good as you do.”



Chapter Text

The month of August dragged by as slow as a beetle rolling dung uphill. Geralt may have semi-retired to Corvo Bianco but Eskel still felt the pull of the Path and left for weeks at a time during the summer to search out contracts with Scorpion. Gods, the hardest part of taking it easy on the vineyard was missing Eskel.

So when Geralt was out among the vines and saw a black stallion coming up the path, ridden by a broad shouldered man in dusty red leather armor he wasn’t able to contain the grin that spread across his face. Long strides carried him up to the main house, and Geralt managed to make it just as Eskel was swinging out of his saddle. Eskel turned, giving Geralt a slow kiss that delved deep into his mouth.

“Gimme a minute to get ‘im settled an’ I’ll be in,” Eskel promised turning back to remove the saddle from Scorpion.

A heavy sigh from Geralt was followed by the half-hearted attempt to change Eskel’s mind, “Mhmm, I pay the stable-hand pretty well to do things like get him settled. You wouldn’t mind if Jonah brushed you down, would you Scorpion?” Maybe if he appealed directly to Eskel’s stallion he’d get better traction. Scorpion ignored him in favor of Eskel’s offer of an apple from his saddlebag though.

“Scorpion s’my horse. S’my job to take care of ‘im, not some stable boy’s.” There was no budging Eskel on this point but he had a slight smile that told Geralt he was happy to be home at last.

“Alright. I’ll see you in the house.” Geralt walked away knowing he had lost before he’d even started.


The tub was full and Geralt had heated it just this side of scalding—perfect for washing away the grime of a hard ride—despite the fact that it was still summer outside. He wanted nothing more than to get Eskel into that tub and then get his freshly washed man onto their bed—no need for clothes between here and there. Soap was placed on a low table next to the huge wooden tub and a cotton washcloth was dropped into the hot water. Geralt stripped out of his boots and clothes, sitting on the bed to wait.

A short while later the door creaked open and Eskel entered with his lips turned up on one side in a smile. Wordlessly removing his armor piece by piece, he stacked it on the dresser, until only his medallion remained on his body. Approaching the bed he bent to give Geralt a full kiss on the lips. Taking the time to tease Geralt’s mouth open, making the kiss last longer. Finally, he pulled away and stepped into the tub with a soft grunt as the relaxing hot water swirled around his legs. Folding his body in on itself, Eskel sat down in the tub and leaned back, submerging everything but his face. After several minutes of soaking that way he sat up and began to scrub himself clean.


A short while later they lay on the bed, Eskel’s hands roaming over Geralt’s body. Fingers tweaking Geralt’s nipples to hardness, cupping his sac, and tracing the hard line of his cock. Eskel himself was stiff and aching but seemed in no hurry to deal with it. He teased Geralt’s body for the better part of an hour until Geralt was a moaning, whimpering mess—then he lowered his head to Geralt’s cock sucking him to completion. Geralt felt like his head was going to explode when he finally came in Eskel’s warm mouth. So completely disoriented from the over-stimulation and then the blinding orgasm, it took Geralt a solid five minutes to come back around. Only then did he realize that Eskel had pulled the covers over them and curled around him. That glorious thick cock still pressed against the back of his thigh, leaking with need. When Geralt tried to wiggle loose too offer Eskel some relief though Eskel held him firm.

Eskel whispered against Geralt’s shoulder, “It can wait.” Circling his leg over Geralt’s knee, Eskel trapped him tightly.

Trying once more to twist free only resulted in Eskel pinning Geralt’s wrists to the pillow in front of him with his hands.

“I said NO.” With Eskel’s solid body behind him Geralt was well and truly trapped. Relenting he relaxed into the hold letting out a deep sigh. Geralt almost to whined about it because he wanted to pleasure Eskel, it had been a month, but he didn’t because he loved it when Eskel was forceful with him like this. He decided to let his own needs and pleasure win for the day, sinking back against the hardness that was Eskel behind him, feeling peaceful in his lover’s arms.


The next morning Geralt woke slowly still tangled in Eskel’s limbs. Eskel had rolled partially onto his back in the night and Geralt decided to take advantage of the situation to thank Eskel for the night before. Eskel’s nipples, flat cinnamon brown disks that rested on his muscular scarred chest, budded up under Geralt’s tongue. Slow flicks of his tongue drawing them up as Eskel’s breathing deepened, rumbling and stuttering in his chest. Sealing his lips over one Geralt sucked the nub tenderly, teasing it between his teeth. A loud moan from Eskel and then his hand was sifting through Geralt’s messy white hair.

“Mmm feels good,” Eskel’s fingers pressed against Geralt’s scalp.

Geralt moved to the other nipple, leaving the first glistening and wet. Eskel’s hand followed his head, massaging his scalp as he used his mouth to lightly tease this one as well. Kissing his way down Eskel’s exposed abdomen, Geralt watched his chest rise and fall faster the more aroused Eskel got. Licking at Eskel’s skin right above his cock prompted him to allow Geralt between his legs. Geralt gave him a few leisurely strokes before he lowered himself to suck one ball into his mouth. A harsh breath rushed out of Eskel and the hand in his hair tightened but not painfully. Continuing, Geralt sucked at it, tugging it away and letting it pop free, then repeated the action on the other side. Eskel grunted a deep full body noise, wide awake now, when Geralt swallowed his cock down to the base.

“Gods, you’re s’good at this,” Eskel lifted his hips to pressed into the back of Geralt’s throat, holding himself there with his hand in Geralt’s hair for a few heartbeats. He dropped his hips to the bed with a sigh and allowed Geralt to resume bobbing his head.

Geralt savored the taste of Eskel—the salt and the bitter—on his tongue and in his mouth. The heady way Eskel pushing down his throat made him feel like he needed to struggle for air. He ran his hands up the inside of Eskel’s thighs, bobbing his head up and down. Using every trick he knew, he was determined to make Eskel come in his mouth, down his throat. Licking under the head of Eskel’s cock rapidly, flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth against Eskel’s slit.

“Stop. You’re gonna make me come,” Eskel’s hand in his hair tightened further, a little beyond pleasure and into painful, pulling him up.

Rolled over onto his back Geralt suddenly found himself under Eskel, being passionately kissed while Eskel fumbled on the nightstand for oil. Okay, if you won’t let me suck you off at least you’ll be coming in my ass, Geralt thought to himself with a smirk. Soon enough oiled fingers where pressing into him. Two at first. But after Eskel being gone so long those two felt like a lot. Geralt gasped at the visceral stretch when Eskel added a third not long after.

“Fuck,” Geralt bucked on Eskel’s fingers.

“Shh, you’re gonna come jus’ like this for me,” Eskel’s fingers sought and found Geralt’s prostate with the unerring accuracy of a well-known lover.

Another rough gasp and those words sunk in, “You’re not going to fuck me?” Geralt wanted to bring Eskel off desperately and he couldn’t do that if Eskel only fingered him to orgasm.

“No.” Eskel stated it so simply as if it meant nothing that he wasn’t going to come.

“But-” Geralt grunted, struggling to keep his train of thought through Eskel prodding his prostate again and again, “-what about you?” A long groan spilled from Geralt.

“What ‘bout me?” Eskel’s fingers where relentless. His mouth sought out Geralt’s neck and he sucked roughly at the skin there, running his teeth over it but never quite biting, never drawing blood, only leaving a dark purple bruise.

“I wanted you to come too,” Geralt whined and in response Eskel fucked his fingers in and out, tugging at his rim with each pass in addition to rubbing his prostate every time he pushed them all the way in. “Oh. OH FUCK.”

“I don’ wanna.”

Another thrust of Eskel’s fingers. Four.

“Eskel, PLEASE. Just fuck me,” Geralt was moaning with every press of fingers now.

Thrust, prod, pull, stretch. Five.

“PLEASE, come inside of me!”

Six more deep thrusts, Eskel’s stretching his finger’s wide each time he pulled them out and on the seventh thrust Geralt was coming hard, vision blurry, chest heaving.

“Why?” Geralt looked at Eskel through hazy eyes, confused why he wasn’t allowing Geralt to pleasure him.

“Not yet,” Eskel covered Geralt’s mouth kissing him languidly, “Don’t worry you’re not doin’ anythin’ wrong. I jus’ wanna wait.”


Two night’s later, long after sunset, they were in the garden—in the greenhouse to be exact—checking the Nazairi Basil and Blue Lotus Flower. Neither was quite ready to harvest yet. The moon was full and shining low and giant in the sky, filling the small glass house with light. Twice more in the last two days Eskel had deliberately brought Geralt to intense climaxes while denying himself anything more than the smallest amount of teasing pleasure and it was driving Geralt mad.

Each time Eskel had put a stop to anything that might push himself over the edge. Geralt knew it had been a long time since Eskel had done anything for himself even, simply from the length of time it took for Eskel’s body to settle down and his cock to go limp when they were done. Yet he was allowed to do nothing about it. He’d begged, whined, and whimpered—and gotten nowhere.

“Eskel…” Geralt let his voice take on a lilting sing-song quality.


“Please?” Geralt looked at him expectantly.

“Please what?” Eskel’s scarred face was drawing up into a happy half smirk though.

“You’ve been home three days. I only want to make you happy.” Geralt was frowning slightly now, surely by now Eskel would give this game up, and yet he still didn’t seem bothered at all.

Eskel stepped toward Geralt and slid his arms around him tipping his own face up to give Geralt a kiss, “You always make me happy.”

Geralt let out a heavy sigh, “You know what I mean.”

Taking one step back Eskel’s smirk returned, “Do I? I want to hear you say it.” His hand lingered on Geralt’s cheek, thumb brushing over Geralt’s lips. Oversensitive from the light touch there, Geralt closed his eyes honing in on the sensation.

Geralt dropped to his knees in front of Eskel, resting his hands on the either side at the front of Eskel’s hips. Palms open and pressing against the leather of Eskel’s pants.

Looking up at Eskel and drinking in the smile there, ragged and pulling at his scars, Geralt pleaded with him, “Please, I want to make you come. I want give you pleasure like you give me.” Geralt paused, swallowing before he could continue, his cock was already getting hard in his own leathers. “Please, let me suck you and come in my mouth.” He leaned his cheek against Eskel’s crotch and waiting.

A welcome hand ran through his ponytail a few deep breathes later. A rumbling laugh. “I could wait a while longer y’know.”

“Oh Gods, no. Eskel, PLEASE, I can’t! Don’t make me wait any more.” Geralt squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. “...You know I hate waiting.”


Geralt opened his eyes. Blinking he stared off at the Blue Lotus Flowers—eerily violet in the moonlight. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You have to do it here though.”

Geralt’s cock throbbed. He’d suck Eskel anywhere he asked at this point. In front of a crowd if he wanted. Over a month of waiting to taste him again. The laces of Eskel’s leathers fell away with remarkable ease considering how rushed Geralt felt. Eskel was already getting hard by the time Geralt pulled his cock out.

Licking the head, Geralt formed a ring with his lips and sealing them to it. He thrust his tongue along the slit, tasting the wetness there—salty and perfectly Eskel. Humming with pleasure he slid down a fraction at a time, drawing back, letting his tongue run along the thick vein underneath it. Eskel cock pulsed and hardened in his mouth with each pass.

Hand winding Geralt’s ponytail around it and then letting it slide gently through his grip, Eskel played with Geralt’s hair while he sucked and licked. Before too long Geralt noticed Eskel’s breathing deepening, heart rate creeping up, hips gently pressing forward in a rocking rhythm. Enjoying himself. Pride swelled inside Geralt knowing he was the cause.

Trying to keep that steady slow pace, Geralt moved his head with the slow thrust of Eskel’s hips, letting Eskel’s hand in his ponytail soothe him. It felt good, he’d wanted to do this for days.

Geralt moaned, burying Eskel in his throat and resting his forehead against Eskel’s smooth abdomen. He waited, breath held, counting the seconds in his mind until he felt lightheaded. When he pulled back mouth open wide, Eskel’s cock was wet with saliva and Geralt had the urge to cough but he suppressed it, instead breathing quickly.

“Again.” Eskel’s hand nudged the back of his head, not forcing but showing a clear preference.

The second time was both better and worse. Geralt felt like he was running out of air faster, but his throat accommodated Eskel’s width more easily. Tears gathered in Geralt’s eyes at the strain, but he kept them open looking up at Eskel, hoping to convey his feelings. He drew back and after a few more quick breaths settled Eskel in his throat a third time.

“Melitele, you’re so fuck’n beautiful like this,” Eskel’s other hand brushed his cheekbone, one hand still lightly intertwined in his ponytail. Slowly Eskel withdrew himself this time and began to fuck into Geralt’s throat. Geralt took care to breath through his nose each time Eskel was far enough out to allow it, and the rest of the time he merely went with the flow. Letting Eskel leisurely fuck his throat, wanting nothing more than for Eskel to take his pleasure. There was no hurry in the act. Eskel didn’t rush, drawing it out as long as possible, before his hips were faltering and he held himself in Geralt’s throat for one last aborted thrust, finally letting himself tip over that long held edge.

Chapter Text

The fire licked across his back, a swift kiss of soft heat, followed moments later by the reality of pain in its wake. Geralt moaned, his body swaying forward from the thin line of Eskel’s Igni as much as any whip had rocked his body in the past. Three, that was three. An ache had settled into his shoulders, and he was gripping the tree branch above his head as though it was the last thing holding him upright—really it wasn’t far from the truth. He was beginning to wish Eskel had tied his wrists to the branch for him; then he could have let his weight hang on them, let some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders and focused on his pain.

When Geralt had asked Eskel to hurt him, really hurt him, he wasn’t sure Eskel could give him what he needed. It was hard for him to explain what he wanted and almost impossible to put into words why. Eskel had always been able to take that controlling role, which Geralt loved. And over time Eskel had picked up on the fact that Geralt liked it when he was rougher, more demanding, hurt him in small ways, and pushed him harder. The few times Geralt had asked Eskel to give him more though—to bite him harder when he was already leaving a bruise—Eskel had backed off. Later, Eskel had explained to him that he was completely uninterested in making Geralt bleed in bed. Geralt assumed this meant Eskel didn’t want to or wouldn’t really hurt him. That the level of pain he got from Eskel was all he could ever hope for.

The next lash of fire burned across his back, stinging where it crossed over the last one. The heat spread down his back to behind his balls, leaving arousal pooling there; Geralt’s eyes rolled back in his head with the pain and pleasure of it all. Gods, how wrong he had been. Four? Making him bleed and making him hurt where two very different things. Yes, four.

Geralt gritted his teeth against the pain, his whole back felt hot, on fire with pain, and his head was reeling. Nothing was happening and the cool breeze tickled across his back making it worse—that hurt in a different way—turning the burn into an intense itch. Senses hyper focused, Geralt listened for the crunch of Eskel’s boots on the dry leaf litter, but there was none. Then there was the small whoosh of Igni and the heat sliced across the top of his right ass cheek. Geralt’s leg shook from the sensation, and he swallowed the desire to scream, instead letting a pained moan creak out of his chest.

Geralt took a deep breath, “Five!” Gods, he’d thought that number was small when Eskel chose it, now he knew better. Tears of sheer relief spilled over when Geralt squeezed his eyes shut against the night. It was barely lit by their campfire but with his pupils dilated wide out of lust and his mind swirling it was all too bright.

He jerked his head up to look when Eskel’s hand brushed his face, soothing the tears away. When had Eskel come up to him? Geralt let his head fall to rest into Eskel’s warm hand, everything felt hot, and he was tired all of a sudden. Warm lips covering his own, a rough sword-calloused hand stroking his cock. It might have been a minute or it might have been twenty, Geralt was so lost floating on a knife edge between pain and pleasure that he couldn’t tell. Suddenly though the waves of pleasure rolled over the pain, washing it away for a brief moment and Geralt came in Eskel’s hand, lips still locked together.

Shuddering and losing grip on the branch, Eskel caught him under the arms, dragging Geralt as gently as he could to the bedroll. It felt cool on his stomach and face. The potion Eskel pressed to his lips felt cold too, and tasted like shit. Swallow . Geralt coughed, but managed to keep it down, and soon felt it seeping into his veins. Eskel was sitting by his head, taking his hair out of the topknot he’d insisted on putting it in before playing. Running his fingers through it. It was soothing and Geralt knew vaguely that he was drifting off to sleep. His back felt better, cooler, the breeze felt good on it now instead of bad. The potion was working, helping his body heal the burns Eskel had put there.

Eskel’s fingers rubbing against his scalp and brushing through his hair felt so good. It had all felt so good, getting the pain he needed, the feeling of getting whipped without leather. It was everything he wanted, and it was all from Eskel.

“Thank you…” Geralt muttered sleepily. He hoped he’d said it out loud. Eskel should know how much he appreciated this.

Chapter Text

“Why don’t you go take your man and either fuck some sense into him or fuck him senseless. I don’t care which. Long as he quits acting like an ass to Keira and me.” Lambert shoved a tankard of ale across the kitchen table at Eskel.

One eyebrow quirked up on Eskel’s scarred face. This was only their second winter at the keep since The Wild Hunt had attacked and Lambert had come back, bringing Keira Metz along with him. The two had arrived less than a week ago and he was completely unaware that Geralt seemed to be riding on Lambert’s last nerve. Lambert didn’t exactly have a lot of patience to start with, but normally he at least tolerated his fellow Wolves well.

“Alright,” Eskel’s face returned to its usual placid state, “I’ll talk to ‘im, see if I can figure out what’s buggin’ ‘im.” Taking a long drag on his Kaedweni Stout Eskel decided he would at least have some lunch before tracking Geralt down. Maybe Lambert would even tell him exactly what Geralt was doing the qualified as ‘acting like an ass’.


Eskel checked the practice yard, the stable, and his own bedroom (their room, really, as everyone knew) but Geralt was nowhere to be found. In the end, it was only the stray creak of a floorboard above his head that gave Geralt away. Eskel climbed the stairs silently to the top floor and entered Geralt’s own rarely used room. It was a cluttered museum of books and souvenirs of a life lived on the Path, all covered in a thin layer of dust. Geralt stood amongst it all sorting book from broken sword hilt, jaw set in dangerous annoyance.

“Hey,” Eskel approached him, “Funny seeing you up here.”

“Hmm? Oh hey.” Geralt looked over at Eskel, the tension in his jaw slackening a tiny fraction.

“Lambert says you’re bein’ less than friendly to Keira an’ ‘im,”Eskel was close enough now that he could wrap his arms around Geralt’s waist and rest his chin on Geralt’s shoulder as he talked.

“What? Oh Hells. He’s just pissy because his nose is up that sorceress’ ass.” Geralt twisted in Eskel’s arms to look him in the eye. “She leads him around like he’s a kept witcher, and he just follows.”

Eskel raised both eyebrows—the right one always hung a tad lower with his scar—as he listened to Geralt talk. Alright then, that explained a lot. And despite any arguments he might put up to the contrary, Geralt was not in a good mood.

“She’s not Yennefer ya’know.” Eskel was poking the bear and he knew it, but someone needed to point it out or Geralt was just going to continue.

“Yea I know that!” Geralt pulled away from Eskel, “I’ve slept with both of them, I can tell the difference!” Geralt’s loud voice carried a little too well in the room, and Eskel winced. He didn’t like to think about who Geralt screwed when he was away from him on the Path.

“Alright, I didn’t need to know that.” A loud sigh passed Eskel’s lips. “What do you need, from me, to help you feel better?”

Geralt slumped down in an old wooden chair, “I don’t know. I hate being like this but I can’t seem to stop. I feel so wound up with her around.”

“What if I ordered you to stop?” Maybe Lambert’s idea of using sex to straighten out Geralt’s attitude wasn’t that far off the mark, except not in the way Lambert imagined. At least he hoped Lambert didn’t imagine them doing these things.

“What? What is that supposed to mean?” Geralt huffed out, attitude edging back in.

Eskel walked up behind him and wrapped a hand around his ponytail, pulling it down almost too hard but not quite, forcing Geralt’s head back to look at him. “Exactly what I said. What if I ordered you to stop, let y’know that your behavior wasn’t acceptable to me.”

Geralt swallowed hard, the tingle on his scalp running straight to his cock, “Alright, let’s try that.”

“Not here, I don’t like this room enough to touch you like that here,” Eskel kissed Geralt’s forehead lightly and released his ponytail. Geralt followed down one ring of stairs to their room without hesitation.


There was a padded trunk at the end of their bed and Eskel led Geralt over to it. “Undress. Put your knees here on the chest, spread apart, hands on the mattress.”

Geralt looked at Eskel a little warily, “I don-”

“I know what your worried ‘bout. I’ve no intention of touchin’ you with leather. Get up there.” Eskel divested himself of his own armor and shirt, kicked off his boots, letting his toes connect to the cool wood floor. He centered himself as Geralt got into position. Coming up behind Geralt and to the side Eskel let his hand ghost over Geralt’s pale ass. Geralt jumped at the surprisingly soft contact. “How many do you think you deserve?”

“I don’t know,” Geralt snorted and hung his head. Eskel’s hand cracked down dramatically loud on his left ass cheek. “OW! Sonofa-”

“Be careful. That wasn’t a very good answer.” Eskel’s finger traced the perfect red print he’d left and Geralt’s whole body flinched for a second before he thought better of it and relaxed into the touch. “How many do you think you deserve?”

A quiet groan escaped from Geralt followed by soft words, “Twelve, please.”

“How’d you come up with that number?” Eskel rubbed his hand over the red on Geralt’s ass soothing some of the heat out of the strike.

“Two for each day they’ve been back, once fore each of them each day,” Geralt replied.

“I like that, i’s a’good number. Count ‘em for me.” Eskel let his hand fall down on the opposite cheek, not quite as hard this time.

“One,” Geralt sounded a little annoyed. Eskel chose to ignore it for now and brought his hand down again, back on the other side. That one probably stung—the first hit on that side had been hard—Geralt gasped quietly before uttering, “Two.”

“Three.” This one landed back on the right.

Eskel aimed right below it interrupting the back and forth rhythm and catching Geralt almost on his upper thigh instead of his ass. It startled him and there was a moment of processing before he said, “Four,” just as another strike landed on his lower left cheek.


“Si-” Geralt paused breathing deeply, confused at the lack of strike, and Eskel worked his fingers into pink-red of his ass. First one side and then the other; Geralt’s skin was wonderfully hot under his hand.

Eskel pulled his hand away and he could hear Geralt hold his breath. He brought it down much lighter than before back on the right side.

“Six.” The tension in Geralt eased and Eskel smacked the inside of his thigh hard.

“Ahh, ah seven,” Geralt wiggled.

“Eigh-” Geralt heaved a breath in as Eskel’s hand struck the inside of his other thigh, “Eight!” Eskel let his hand linger where it landed. Running his hand up the inside of Geralt’s thigh, Eskel cupped his balls rolling them gingerly between his fingers. Next he ran the back of his knuckles over Geralt’s ass cheeks.

“Not’so pale anymore,” Eskel smiled to himself and slapped Geralt’s ass hard, bringing his hand down from the top.

Geralt gave a load moan, and Eskel waited.

“Nine,” Geralt sounded softer this time. Lost in himself.

Eskel knew he would have to give him more time to count now as he thought from far away in his head. It would take him a few moments longer each time to connect the pain to the sound and understand why.


“Aughhh, Te-” Eskel listened to Geralt’s pattering heartbeat for a few moments. ”-Ten,” Geralt groaned out.

“E-leven,” Geralt’s voice shook, soft and watery. Perfect and meek, Eskel’s hand lingered for just a moment before drawing back to connect again one last time.

Geralt moaned so softly Eskel had to squeeze his own cock through his leathers, “Twelve… Please.”

“Mmm, did so so good for me.” Eskel’s hands roamed over Geralt’s heated ass. “Gods, your ass feels amazin’.”

“Please, Eskel. I need you,” Geralt slumped forward resting his head on the bed.

“Scoot up for me. On’tha bed. Lemme take care of you.” Geralt followed Eskel’s orders, crawling off the chest, up the bed until his head rested on a pillow and collapsing there face down.

Meanwhile Eskel, rounded the bed and dug through the bedside table drawer for oil. Kneeling on the bed Eskel turned Geralt onto his side, careful not to turn him over onto his tender backside. Eskel laid down and pulled Geralt close, sliding an arm under his neck, loosening the leather holding his hair. Shushing Geralt’s low-pitched moans, and soft begging, Eskel ran his fingers through Geralt’s hair kissing his mouth lazily. Eskel took his time, tasting Geralt’s lips, and tongue, exploring the roof of his mouth. With his thumb Eskel uncorked the small vial of oil and poured it over Geralt’s flushed cock, uncaring if he made a mess of their bed.

Geralt’s length was hot and throbbing in his hand when Eskel gripped it, stroking slowly up from the base. Softly Eskel played his thumb over the weeping head and swallowed the moan that drew from Geralt’s throat.

“Shhh, I love you. Gonna make you feel good now. You always take what I give so well,” Eskel was whispering into Geralt’s mouth, feeling inexplicably pleased. Eskel almost felt high, he was so pleased with Geralt, with the way his body responded to every type of touch Eskel gave him. The painful and the pleasant. Languid strokes of Geralt’s cock slowed the hushed begging and turned the whining desperate moans into deep rumbling pleasured ones. Eskel tucked Geralt’s face into the crook of his neck and buried his nose in Geralt’s hair inhaling the scent of leather, blade oil, and Geralt’s skin. It was only a few minutes later that the tender slow strokes of Eskel’s calloused hand brought Geralt over the edge. Breath caught in his throat he cried out quietly against Eskel’s throat and Eskel held him through each long pulse.

“Sleep now.” Eskel’s scarred lip brushed over Geralt’s, “‘N tomorrow we will start new.”

Chapter Text

The nettle plant had sat in a squat hammered-copper pot on the sideboard in the dining room at Corvo Bianco for a month. It drew Geralt’s attention every time he walked past it. It wasn’t large, nothing like the ones outside the Seven Cat’s Inn that came up to his chest. But there it was, harmlessly growing in the background. The modest cluster of soft-looking green leaves had gone from the size of a hand until they now stood as tall as the tapered candles nearby. Several stalks, each teaming with leaves. Geralt knew though, that they were anything but harmless. Images of Duncan’s cock, swelling with white welts kept flashing in his mind each time he stared at the plant. His own cock twitched at the thought—whether in sympathy or arousal he was never quite sure.

When Marlene asked about the plant Eskel gave a half smile, “Was a gift from a friend, careful with it though, I wouldn’ touch it.”

“Mmm nettles, nasty bite, but they make a good tea. Also saute them in oil. Oh! I could even make a nettle pesto…” Marlene was walking into the kitchen still listing the many ways she could cook nettles to herself.

Eskel laughed out loud, opening his arms when Geralt approached for a hug. “Am I ever going to get a ‘nasty bite’ or are you going to keep teasing me forever?”


There was a distinct pout to his voice, and he was pliant in Eskel’s arms, head laying against Eskel’s shoulder. Eskel’s hands wandered over that leather clad ass, squeezing it firmly and his lips sought out Geralt’s kissing him with unnecessary softness. Then Eskel pulled Geralt’s bottom lip into his own mouth and bit down roughly, reveling in the feeling of his teeth denting that plump flesh.

Grunting, Geralt’s eyes flew up to Eskel’s in time to catch a grin as Eskel let his lip slip free, “You like bein’ bitten don’ you?”

Eskel heard Geralt’s heart trip over itself for a a few beats, then a breathy answer was buried in the crook of his neck, muffled by the skin there, “Yes. You know that.”

“An’ if I told you to wait another day? Another week?” Digging his fingers into Geralt’s ponytail he gave a hard tug, forcing Geralt’s head back and looking him in the eyes.

Groaning Geralt’s adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. It was beautiful, his throat so exposed and open like that. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” Eskel tightened his grip.

“I’d wait for you. Because you like to make me wait,” a small shiver ran up Geralt’s body.

Eskel leaned forward to suck at his neck, “But you don’ like to wait at all.” He pulled Geralt flush with him again. Letting Geralt’s hair go and pressing his own hardening cock against him.

“No,” Geralt’s voice sounded strangled, “but I do like pleasing you.”

Eskel pushed him away, causing Geralt to almost stumble at the sudden change. “Go get naked. I wantcha cross-legged on the bed when I come in.” Pulling his trophy knife out of his boot Eskel was carefully holding the tip of one stalk of the nettle plant when Geralt hurried through their bedroom door.


Once he was through the door Geralt had two thought’s in his mind: he needed to get naked and on the bed fast if he didn’t want to disappoint Eskel from the start, and he really didn’t think he could handle having his own hands for this type of play. Wasting no time at all he went directly to the trunk Eskel kept in the corner and lifted it open. Near the top were bundles and bundles of Eskel’s rope. Geralt grabbed a few, he didn’t really care how many, that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was asking Eskel to do something for him. Silently.

The rope was set on the end of the bed towards the door, so Eskel would see it when he came in. Stripping out of his armor and leathers, kicking his boots to the corner, Geralt rushed to make a hasty pile of it all on the dresser. Swords stacked haphazardly on top. The very last thing Geralt did was remove his medallion. With a deep breath he set it on the nightstand, in the small silver bowl that Eskel had gifted him just for this. Without it he felt naked in a completely different way. Honestly vulnerable in a way he would only ever allow himself to be with Eskel. He could hear the clink of Eskel’s swords together and the thud of his boots as they were set neatly next to their bedroom door. Climbing onto the bed Geralt tried to settle his mind, crossing his legs and straightening his back. His cock jerked with interest in his lap, already taking note of proceedings. Breathe deeply in, slowly let it out, Geralt calmed his mind. Eskel would help him soon.


Eskel entered their bedroom taking a moment to get his bearings. Geralt’s clothed were heaped on the dresser, not neatly folded but with his swords on top. A half smile quirked on his lips, as long as they weren’t on the floor it was alright. The smile widened when Eskel saw what Geralt had left at the foot of the bed. Sitting as calm as he could, cross-legged as Eskel has demanded, with a straight back and his hands resting on his knees was Geralt. Eyes closed concentrating on his breath. Willing his cock to comply do doubt. Two feet in front of him was a pile of Eskel’s ropes, the soft ones, dyed royal purple because Eskel loved the way it looked against Geralt’s pale white skin. Already Eskel felt the slither of arousal gripping his gut.

Stalking over to the bed Eskel scooped up his ropes, nettle stalk in one hand, leaves waving perilously. He continued to the bedside table and placed the nettle there. Geralt’s medallion in it’s silver bowl detailed with two wolves running through the woods together making his own heart skip. Every time he saw it, Eskel realized how much Geralt loved him and how connected they were. How safe Geralt felt with him and it made Eskel soar like nothing else could, to know that Geralt would put so much in his hands.


The weight of the first bundle of rope was rested on his shoulder, a calm reminder that Eskel would help him be still for this, and Geralt let out a sigh of relief. Eskel’s lips grazed over his own, a brief sweep as he moved back across Geralt’s body and set another bundle of rope over his ankles, one end of if just barely brushing against his sac. Geralt’s cock twitched and his balls drew up from the sensation. Gods, sometimes he thought Eskel did those little things on purpose. He didn’t doubt Eskel had the precision to do it intentionally, but he never really knew. The last rope Eskel kept in his hand.

Geralt let himself be soft in Eskel’s hands. Closing his eyes Geralt let the air flow in and out of lungs in rhythm with the push and pull of Eskel positioning him exactly as he wanted him. Each of his hands were placed on the opposite shoulder, arms crossing over each other in a vee, elbows one on top of the other at the bottom of his ribcage. It felt like giving himself a hug and Geralt squeezed himself tightly, enjoying the way it felt to have Eskel loop the soft rope around him. One wrist to one bicep, then just above where his elbows sat together. Eskel’s fingers delved behind Geralt’s arms to tug his nipple between his fingers, and Geralt moaned, eyes flashing open for a moment before falling closed again. The bed dipped in front of him and the rope slid off his shoulder caressing his skin. Eskel was kissing his shoulder where it had been then, so lightly Geralt wanted to open his eyes and see if it was really happening. Then the rope was being threaded around that bicep and his wrist was bound to it the same as the other; just above his elbows on that side followed right after, drawing a deep sigh from Geralt as he breathed out. Relaxing deeply Geralt let his arms rest, but he remain hugged—by his own arms and Eskel’s ropes all the same—loving the feeling of closeness and stability it gave him.

“Thank you,” Geralt gave Eskel a relaxed smile, opening his eyes to look right at him.

Eskel said nothing in return, he was sitting on his heels in front of Geralt, in nothing but his leathers. Rising up and leaning forward he put his hand behind Geralt’s neck, tilting it up for a kiss. Deep and demanding, pushing his way into Geralt’s mouth and Geralt merely conceded. Letting Eskel take everything he wanted, anything. Eskel’s hand wrapped around his stiff cock and stroked it up, down, and up again. It felt like heaven to be held in those ropes and have Eskel’s hand on him. Geralt couldn’t hold back the pleased noises, until a sharp pain replaced the pleasure on his cock. Then another, and another. He struggled to pull away from Eskel’s mouth as his moans turned painful. The hand behind Geralt’s neck held him firm through it though and Eskel seemed intent on devouring every cry. Only when the sharp flicks of pain from Eskel’s fingers had faded, again replaced by the smooth touch of his stroking, and Geralt’s harsh pants had softened again, did Eskel finally release him.


Flicking Geralt’s cock and kissing him through it had turned Eskel on immensely. He wanted to adjust himself in his leathers. Hells, he wanted to take them off. But he couldn’t yet. Taking up the last rope that sat on Geralt’s legs Eskel untied it and began to loop it around Geralt’s ankles, tying them together, his feet to his calves. Royal purple on pale skin. Winding the rope around itself Eskel brought it up to Geralt’s elbows, around and back down. Tightening it slightly, securing Geralt to himself. If Eskel wanted to he could reach around the rope and play with Geralt’s cock, he could easily roll Geralt onto his back, play with his ass, bring him back up to sitting. It was perfect.

Eskel pressed his fingertips into Geralt chest, directly below his neck where it was a still slightly accessible. A half smirk crossed his face and he pushed exactly hard enough to send Geralt rolling onto his back. There was a startled noise from Geralt, followed by a quickly sucked in breath when Eskel spanked his bare exposed ass on his way off the bed. A chuckled rumbled out of Eskel at the sight of it all.

Making his way over to the bedside table Eskel picked up the nettle carefully. From the drawer he took a tin of lanolin. “You wanna get stung, is that it?” Geralt voiced no answer except a high whine and squeezed his eyes shut. Settling back on the bed Eskel ran the nettle over the back of Geralt’s thigh, dragging it backwards to avoid stinging him. Geralt shuddered and gasped. “Nah, your gonna hafta answer me if you really want this.” Eskel repeated the same motion on the other thigh, careful again not to let the hairs turn the wrong way.

Geralt whimpered, “Yes.”

“Yes?” Eskel let the question linger for a moment, hold the stem away, giving Geralt no touch at all.

“Please. I want,” Eskel could hear Geralt swallow, “I want you to, touch me with it…let it hurt me.”

Eskel brushed the nettles over Geralt’s ass, one hand on his tied legs to hold him still, watching intently as the muscle there twitched and jerked in reaction to the stinging.

“OH, oh Fuck! Melitele’s sweet cunt,” Geralt tried to rock in the ropes but Eskel held him still, dragging the nettles to his other ass cheek as a gutteral grunt crawled out of his chest, “Shit shit, Eskel. I need…” Eskel pulled the nettles away. Setting them aside on the bed, far enough away he wouldn’t accidentally sting himself. Eskel opened the lanolin and dipped a finger in the tacky liniment. Geralt’s ass was a beautiful rash of raised welts all over both sides and Eskel pressed his hands into each side to spread Geralt open. The cry from Geralt at the pain of being touched on the itching rash quickly turned to a groan and a whimper when Eskel’s finger began to circle his tight furl. Probing at it gently, teasing it open and sinking inside. The stretch and the slide with the lanolin was so much stronger, slower, everything felt like more. Eskel took his time, burying his finger deep before adding a second.

When Geralt was a mumbling moaning mess from the slow tease of his sweet spot, Eskel picked up the nettle again. Ran it up over Geralt’s balls to hear him cry out in pain once more. The agony of such a tender place being stung overtaking his pleasure. Eskel took note that Geralt’s cock was still hard and leaking onto his belly though. Fingers seeking out that sweet spot again Eskel mercilessly worked it, watching Geralt’s now welted balls draw up. He ran the nettle through the space between Geralt’s crossed legs and his cock, not careful where it touched—the inside of his legs, ankles, cock—Geralt tensed up and shuddered, ass clenching on Eskel’s fingers. The nettle kissed Geralt’s cock and he ground out a scream behind closed teeth, but Eskel was already pulling it away. Discarding it past the end of the bed. Working to undo his own leathers.


Everything itched. Itched or stung. Eskel’s fingers in Geralt’s ass were endless. Tirelessly working at his prostate, making him leak on himself and it felt so good, but everything else felt like fire. Not like Eskel’s fire that was warm but different. Like a swarm of bugs stinging him all at once. Eskel was grabbing his cock, stroking it, it was bliss and agony all rolled into one. Geralt couldn’t decide if he wanted more or less, but it didn’t matter because Eskel was in control of giving him what he needed. The thick head of Eskel’s cock pressing into him was exactly it. It tempered the pain in his cock and balls but did nothing except make his ass feel worse. Every time Eskel slapped into him it reminded him of how raw his skin felt there, itchy and swollen. Everything Eskel did kept him swinging wildly in between sweet release and pure misery. The slow fucking of his ass, stretching him out wide and deep, the way Eskel kept touching everywhere he’d left welts with the nettles. The only things keeping him from falling apart completely were the ropes hugging him, and Eskel’s voice lulling him in the background.

“Come for me,” it was low and far away, but it cut through Geralt’s haze anyway, pulling at him until he obeyed.

Chapter Text

It was no secret between Geralt and Eskel, or Geralt and anyone he fucked really, that Geralt loved the feeling of teeth sinking into to his skin. It was also no secret to Geralt that Eskel would never bite him as hard as he wanted. Blood in bed was not something that aroused Eskel in anyway, quite the opposite in fact, nothing was as likely to make him put an end the fun as fast as that. Geralt knew Eskel was holding back, tiny nips at his neck, teeth scraping over his skin lightly.

Then came the night Geralt stumbled upon Eskel at the Inn at White Orchard. He’d had a feeling that there was someone else in the area because the notice board was picked clean, but he had no idea Eskel was even in Temeria, let alone Velen. When Geralt walked into the inn to buy a room for the night Eskel sat at a table along the back wall with tankard in his hand, slack-mouthed and blank-eyed staring into the room as if it were empty despite the middling crowd of people dancing, drinking, and playing Gwent.

One knee pulled up guarding his belly with his arm wrapped around it, his eyes slowly connected with Geralt’s. There was a knowing spark there at least, but Eskel’s eyes looked hollow.

Sidling up to the innkeep Geralt pried a little, “That witcher over there,” he gestured with his head, “He had anything to eat tonight?”

“Naw, just emptying his purse on Pepper Vodka,” she shrugged and them gave him a critical eye. “Why?”

“We’re close…” Geralt paused half a second, “We trained together,” he indicated his eyes, “and we’re good friends. Bring us two plates of whatever is left for dinner?” Geralt offered her some coin, slightly more than required in a place like this. “He got a room already?”

“It’s roasted hen and potatoes, got some carrots I can add to the side. And yeah he got himself a room before he started drinking. Down the back hall, second door on the right, there’s only one bed though, ‘spose you could toss your bedroll on the floor.”

“I’ll… do that, thanks.” Geralt reached into his purse and handed her another silver piece. Better safe that sorry.

Geralt approached Eskel, peering into his glazed eyes as he leaned down, “Food’s on the way. Key?” Eskel wordlessly handed over a worn iron key from one of the pouches on the front of his sword belt.

Making his way down the back hall to the second room on the right, Geralt unlocked it and stepped in. Dropping his bags right inside the door, he locked it again turning on his heel to head back out to the taproom to find Eskel staring at a plate of roasted chicken, and potatoes. A handful of dark purple carrots sat on the side of the plate, freshly washed. Geralt took a seat across the table from him and pulled a plate to himself.

“You want to tell me why you were set on drinking yourself to sleep tonight?” Geralt stuffed a leg of chicken in his mouth and tore off a large chunk.

Eskel toyed with his food, “Botchling.”

“Ah,” Geralt replied knowingly, those contracts were always hard on the mind. “Eat something for me, even half of it.”

A half-hearted grunt as all Geralt got in return, but Eskel at least put a potato in his mouth.

Halfway through his meal Eskel shoved his plate away, “They didn’ even wanna try an’ name the thing.” He gave a frustrated shrug, “’S dealt with now I guess.”

“Hey, you did what no one else could or would.” Geralt had finished his plate long before Eskel and was watching him. Eskel’s eyes were a bit clearer now, watching him back with interest.

Eskel ran a hand over the scars that tracked down his face, rubbing at the ache, “Jus’ needed a way to let go of it for the night ya’know?”

“Mhmm, I do. I know another way to do that too,” the corner of Geralt’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “If you’re interested my bedroll is…” Geralt cleared his throat roughly, “on the floor.” Geralt broke out in a full grin, no matter how many years they played this charade in every inn from here to Point Vanis he still found it comical that they bothered. If the innkeepers wanted to claim ignorance that was on them, it was plain as day though that when two men rented a room with one bed the floor was not going to be used.

Eskel barked out a laugh, “Sure it’ll be, but Hells if you’ll be in it.” He stood and stagger-stalked to his room, hand on the wall to steady his balance until he got his feet again. Geralt followed behind, ever the good friend making sure he didn’t stumble.

As soon as Eskel got the key fumbled into the lock and turned over they pushed inside the door. Geralt was quick to shut it and lock it behind them, before Eskel pressed him right up against it, kissing him roughly. “Fuck, ‘m so glad you walked in here tonight.” Geralt could smell the vodka strong on Eskel’s breath still, taste a little bit of the sting of it in his mouth. Eskel’s hands were still fairly coordinated though, seeking out the belts of his swords and the buckles of his armor.

Soon they were both naked, Geralt kneeling on the bed facing toward the wall and Eskel pressed up flush behind him, thick cock nudging against the back of his balls. Geralt let loose a quiet groan, his head falling to the side, baring his neck to Eskel. Lips ghosted over the soft flesh there, gentle kisses, a wet lick, and a tame nibble tugging at Geralt’s skin. He hummed to himself, if felt good. It always felt good when Eskel put his lips and teeth against his skin but he wished it was more.

The slick slide of Eskel’s oiled cock between his legs was maddening, Geralt wanted to bend over and offer himself up but Eskel had a hand laying over the front of his neck. A quiet reminder to stay where he was. The other hand gripped Geralt’s hip hard then it was gone and Geralt was gasping for air as Eskel pushed his thickness inside, slow and tight. Head thrown back against Eskel’s shoulder Geralt keened.

“Gods- love the way your body clamps down on me.” Eskel’s teeth settled over the top of Geralt’s trapezius, openly mouthing there. With every thrust his teeth sunk against the meat of Geralt’s shoulder a little harder and Geralt reached a hand back to snake his fingers into Eskel’s hair.

“Oh fuck. Oh- fuck yes. Please,” Geralt pleaded. Eskel’s mouth lifted off his shoulder and Geralt whined. Why did he always have to stop? “OH SHIT. Gods yes! No, no, no don’t stop!” Eskel had clamped down hard right next to where he had been and Geralt’s cock was throbbing with the sensation. Dropping his hand from Eskel’s hair Geralt touched his cock. Thrusting wildly into his own hand and back against Eskel’s cock. “Please more,” he managed to keen out in between groaning his pleasure. For once Eskel didn’t hesitate, taking him at his word Eskel tightened his teeth and pulled back on Geralt’s flesh dragging it away from his body with his mouth.

Geralt sobbed in pleasure and Eskel released the tender skin from between his teeth, nuzzling against Geralt’s neck, all while pounding into him in a steady maddening rhythm. Tilting his head the other way Geralt hoped Eskel understood. He was rewarded with the warm shock of wet mouth over his other shoulder followed quickly by the harsh bite of Eskel’s teeth. Not enough to break skin, but oh so close and it stilled Geralt’s breath in his chest. Eskel’s cock jerked inside of him, filling him with heat, and Eskel groaned against Geralt’s skin. Licking at the skin trapped between his teeth Eskel gave a hard tug in time with a rough thrust against Geralt’s prostate causing Geralt to curse, “Fuck, Melitele!”

A few more short circles of his hips while he worried at Geralt’s shoulder with his mouth and Geralt was coming all over his own stomach, dripping down onto the blanket. Eskel pulled his mouth off and licked over where he had bitten. Geralt didn’t need to see it to know that the skin there would be a mottled, purpling, and probably showing the shape of Eskel’s teeth. He laughed, happy and proud, “Fuck, that was so good.” Wiping himself off on the blanket Geralt pulled it back and laid down beneath it. Eskel curled up beside him. “Hey, you alright?” Eskel had never bitten him so hard and Geralt definitely didn’t want him to regret this because he had loved it.

“Mhmm.” Eskel’s eyes were shut tight against the world and he rested his head on the front of Geralt’s shoulder. “Jus' never thought I’d like that so much.”

“I loved it, you can bite me like that any time you want.” Geralt ran his fingers through Eskel’s sweaty hair, and kissed his lips softly.

“Yeah? Not too much?” Eskel questioned honestly, slipping his arm around Geralt’s waist.

“Never too much,” Geralt assured him. “We’ll hit your limit there long before we find mine.” Another long languid kiss and Geralt noticed Eskel drifting to sleep.

Chapter Text

Etched into the rock inside the cave not far outside of Beauclair was a note. At first glance Eskel mistook it for another prayer note, no different than all the others scattered on the floor and attached to the walls of the cave, asking Lebioda for his grace. Those weren’t carved into the wall of the cave though, and the cave had been here before Lebioda wandered to it seeking shelter. That warranted a second glance. It was in Common but the older more worn carving next to it was in Elder Speech, Eskel’s Hen Llinge was sketchy at best, but it seemed that one was a translation of the other.

It listed ingredients: wild carrot, ginger, siren vocal cords, buckthorn, dwarven spirit, and a few other random ingredients. Below it was a caution to use in only the smallest amounts with a willing mate. Eskel snorted. An Aen Seidhe aphrodisiac? Taking note of the ingredients and ratios Eskel moved on in his quest, he’d come here looking for some lost Lebioda follower after all, and he had coin to earn.




Eskel writhes on his bedroll next to his campfire. His body aching from his nipples to his toes, tingling with desire, but his cock throbs . It’s miserable and amazing all at once. Unable to track how long he has held out his hand finally strays down to his groin, cupping his balls and rolling them gently between his fingers. The pleasure is so intense he has to bite his lip to stifle a scream when he strokes himself.

Fumbling for the oil, Eskel hurries to uncork it and coat his fingers. He needs something inside himself—now. Gods, he craves it. Thrusting a finger inside aches but the pleasure overrides it quickly and he follows it with another, chasing the burn, the stretch. Before Eskel realizes it he is fucking himself steadily on three fingers and wishing silently to himself that it was Geralt.

Other hand sliding up and down his cock, thumb swirling around the head, wet with his own precum, Eskel can’t stifle his moans anymore and he’s thankful he’s in the middle of nowhere. In a forest with no one but the crows to hear him. His hips jerk against his hand and he crooks his fingers, seeking out that sweet spot inside. Pleasure sparks behind his eyelids when his fingers brush over it. Eskel shudders and a moan trickles past his lips, sticky like molasses. He does it again.

Fuck, Eskel wishes he could get Geralt to slick up and slide inside him. Stretch him out. He imagines how it would feel. A deeper ache than his fingers can ever give him. He misses that sometimes. Wants it now. His fingers trace over the head of his cock, and its so sensitive he comes. Hot cum spurting between his fingers, dripping onto his clenched abdomen. His whole body is tense with euphoria.

Laying still with his cum cooling on his stomach, Eskel stares at the night sky. The stars twinkle, blinking back at him through the tree leaves. Eskel’s cock still aches. His hardness hasn’t really subsided, and he’d like to do it all over again suddenly.

“Fuck.” Eskel is startled by how how hoarse his own voice sounds in his ears.

Gingerly he slides his fingers around in his ass, his rim is loose now and it feels too good when he teases his fingers over it. Dipping them in and out. He’ll be sore tomorrow and he knows it, three fingers is more than he usually plays with. And he doesn’t play this way all that often anymore. In fact he can’t remember the last time he pushed his body this far, wanted to feel a thickness like this.

It doesn’t take long to get himself close again, hips bucking up into the air, hand grasping at his own nipple, tugging hard. A few hard presses against his swollen prostate and Eskel is adding to the mess on his belly. He breathes hard, running his hand through it and smearing it around as he comes down from the high. Gods Above he wants to make Geralt feel like this.




“Is it safe?” Geralt cocks his head to the side, legs crossed at the ankles, he is leaning his ass against Marlene’s massive dining room table.

“Mhm, wouldn’ ask you ta do it if I didn’t know it was.” Eskel takes a bite of his apple. He is sitting at the head of the table staring up at Geralt, a small vial of milky white liquid lays on the table between them.

“How do you know its safe?” Geralt casts a sideways look at the vial and then back to Eskel.

“I drank it.” Eskel shrugs and Geralt’s face drops, horrified. Raising one hand to hold off the tirade Eskel can see coming, he goes on, “I had a vial of Golden Oriole right there the whole time. It’s intense, but not unpleasant—I think you would like it. An’ I’d love seein’ you under its affects—a lot. Teasin’ you…” He grins lopsidedly, “But s’up to you in the end, ‘s only an idea.”

“And I drink the whole vial, then what?” Geralt picks it up tipping it this way and that, staring at the substance.

Eskel sets his apple down, mouth suddenly dry with hot arousal, “You do as I say.” He watches in fascination as Geralt uncorks the vial, and tips it to his lips. Geralt stares him down as he swallows it; Eskel can’t tear his eyes away from Geralt’s throat working as he drinks the spicy Aen Seidhe aphrodisiac. Adam’s apple bobbing up and down underneath the skin. Eskel stands and steps right up into Geralt’s space—apple forgotten—placing a soft kiss on his cheek, carefully avoiding his lips where the substance still lingers.

“Love you, ya’know that?” Eskel’s lips move against the scruff of Geralt’s five o’clock shadow. Spreading his hand wide over the front of Geralt’s leathers Eskel gives him a firm squeeze, “Go to the room, heat the bath. Get naked and get in. Do NOT touch yourself. Wait for me there.”

Geralt’s eyes are wide with anticipation. Licking his lips cleans them of the remaining residue leaving them moist and red, Eskel wants to kiss them, suck on them, press the head of his cock against them. Instead he backs away, giving Geralt the space to go follow his orders. It’s hard, and Eskel has to pause to breathe deeply, regaining his center. As he watches Geralt walking away, his perfect ass dancing underneath that tight leather with each step, Eskel lets the air in his lungs seep slowly out between pursed lips. Fucking Hells, why do I do this to myself again?

The door to their bedroom swings closed with a muted scrape over the wooden floor and Eskel pulls his hand over his face rubbing at the scars there. Giving Geralt enough time to get undressed and into the bath proves harder than Eskel would like. The potion takes a good twenty minutes to kick in and he wants Geralt to really be feeling it when he comes in.

Eskel goes through the motions of finding a bottle of apple juice, a honey croissant, and a round of soft Camembert cheese in the kitchen; putting them all on a small tray and then carrying it out to the table. Perching it on the edge he goes about taking off his boots, sets them just outside the door. His armor, tunic and swords are folded neatly and stacked on the chest next to it. It’s as good as a sign on the door; all the staff at Corvo Bianco know that if Eskel’s armor is outside the door they are not to disturb those inside except for blood, flood, or fire. Through the door he can hear Geralt’s breath and heartbeat if he concentrates. Steadily speeding along in his chest, breaths measured and slow as it starts its work and Geralt fights it. Eskel smiles to himself, he’ll wait a little longer.

Choosing a book off of the shelf Eskel flips it open, mindlessly skimming the pages. Geralt has a book collection to rival some colleges, and he inherited all of Vesemir and Kaer Morhen’s after the Wild Hunt as well. They fill the spare room and much of the cellar below. Eskel is trying hard not to think of Geralt naked, waiting and wanton in the tub though, more than he is paying attention to the finer points of dissecting a kikimore. A heated moan filters through the door to his ears, and he closes the book. Resting it on the table he takes up the tray he prepared a bit ago instead, and knocks softly at the door. There is no answer but Eskel enters anyway, he didn’t really expect one, it’s more a warning to Geralt that he is about to start than anything else.

Geralt is in the tub, sprawling out like he sometimes does when relaxing in a bath. Feet resting on the edge of the tub and legs spread wide, his arms rest along the rim. He doesn’t look relaxed though, Eskel thinks Geralt looks like his skin would be flushed if his mutations allowed it. Droplets of sweat bead on his pale skin, and his breaths are short and shallow; his head lolls backward against the rim of tub, ponytail dangling outside. Setting the tray on the dresser Eskel approaches Geralt, he runs his fingers through the top of Geralt’s hair. It’s damp with sweat and when Geralt’s eyes roll over to seek him out they are unfocused and glassy, pupils blown wide open with lust.

Geralt closes his eyes and tips his head further back, searching for Eskel’s hand, pushing into it. Fingertips trail down over his face, Eskel rubs them over Geralt’s eyebrow, his cheekbone, thumbing at Geralt’s upper lip. Eskel’s cock jerks in his leathers when Geralt’s mouth falls open at the touch and his tongue darts out to lick at the pad of his thumb. When he presses in into Geralt’s mouth Geralt sucks on it as greedily as if it were his cock, and Eskel massages his stubbled cheek with the tips of his fingers while Geralt’s tongue thrusts against his thumb.

Geralt opens his eyes to stare at Eskel the same time he opens his mouth with Eskel’s thumb still resting inside. Melitele, its hot. Saliva strings between the roof of Geralt’s mouth and his thumb, and Geralt’s eyes are begging him for more of anything Eskel wants to give him. Eskel pulls his hand away and Geralt whines at the loss turning his head to watch Eskel go.

From the bedside table Eskel takes several bottles and bowls, a vial of oil, and a small linen cloth. In one bowl be pours a small amount of capsaicin oil, in the other generous amount of grain alcohol. The cloth goes in the alcohol, and the plain oil sits next to it all waiting. Eskel gets up on their bed on the side next to the bedside table. Leaning back against the headboard with his legs spread, knees pulled up a little to create a space for Geralt, he runs a hand over the front of his leathers massaging his own cock. He’s going to enjoy this so much.

“Get out of the tub and dry off. Then come sit in my lap.” It’s a good view, the water sliding off of Geralt’s toned body when he stands. His cock is already standing out, stiff and long, in front of him as he steps over the rim of the tub. Geralt tries to make drying off an efficient affair, in a hurry to be in Eskel’s arms. Crawling up on the bed he approaches Eskel on his hands and knees before turning over to place his ass against the swell in Eskel’s leathers.

Grabbing the inside of Geralt’s thighs with a hard grip Eskel lifts them up and over his own legs, forcing them wide until Geralt’s legs hang outside his own. He runs his hands up the inside of those pale thighs, all the way up, one hand cups Geralt’s balls and the other strokes his cock pulling a strangled gasp from Geralt.

“Feels good doesn’ it?” Eskel bites Geralt’s ear, teeth grazing over the lobe.

“Fuck, mhmm,” the air struggles out of Geralt’s lungs and back in.

Taking his time Eskel fondles and strokes Geralt until his hips are bucking upward. Every upward thrust of his cock into Eskel’s hand causes his balls to be tugged downward by Eskel’s other. Geralt’s head is laid back over Eskel’s shoulder, baring his neck, and Eskel can’t resist sucking a deep dark mark there. As soon as Eskel lets his teeth tease over Geralt’s tender skin the begging starts.

“Please,” Geralt’s voice is ragged already, “please, Eskel. I need…”

Eskel hums against his skin, teeth vibrating gently there.

“Gods, I need to come. Eskel! Please.” Geralt’s skin feels hot inside Eskel’s arms.

Licking over the darkly marked up skin where his teeth were Eskel runs his lips up Geralt’s neck to his ear again, “You can come anytime you want tonight. As often as you need.”

“Thank you,” Geralt turns to press his face against Eskel as he speaks and it comes out a muffled mess, mixed with a grunted cry, because he’s spilling all over himself and Eskel’s hand. Cock jerking hard in Eskel’s grip, balls desperately trying to draw up tight against the soft hold Eskel cradles them in.

Eskel let’s Geralt float for a few minutes, resting. Slowly though he starts to stir and a few soft moans escape him. Wiping his hand off on the sheet Eskel casts a small Quen over it before dipping a single finger in the bowl of capsaicin oil. His mouth finds Geralt’s and he kisses him deeply, distractingly, while the finger circles first one and then the other nipple. They continue to kiss, languid and slow, exploring each other’s mouths. Meanwhile Eskel dips his finger in the bowl again, blazes a trail down Geralt’s breastbone to one of his hip bones, drawing an oily spiral there. Avoiding Geralt’s cock, Eskel traces over his pubic bone to the other hip bone and swirls the oil there as well.

Geralt draws his mouth back to let out a low groan as the burn starts to kick in. Rinsing his hand in the bowl of alcohol, Eskel lets the Quen fade away. Arching his chest away and trying to stretch his legs out straighter to ease the fiery sensation Geralt grits his teeth, hissing through them. Eskel lifts his ass and scoots him forward on the bed, bringing Geralt’s legs back inside his own.

“Kneel there for me.” Geralt complies immediately, pulling his knees under himself and resting his ass on his heels. Fingers digging into the covers, Geralt grips them tightly panting through the pain. Standing up Eskel removes his leathers, toeing them to the side with this foot. The vial of plain oil returns with him to the bed as he takes a seat against the headboard again and slicks up his cock. It’s already hard, aching and ready. “Back up, put your feet on each side of me.”

It takes a moment but Geralt does as Eskel tells him. Scooting back on his knees until his feet bump into Eskel then spreading them apart and placing a foot on each side of Eskel’s ass where he sits. It spreads Geralt’s knees a little, opens him up, and Eskel runs a slick finger between his legs—balls to the base of his tailbone. Geralt shudders with the touch and tries to press into it moaning. Eskel smiles to himself at the image. Sliding his finger back down he seeks out Geralt’s pucker and rubs over it, kneading the oil into it before pressing his finger in and crooking it. Eskel tugs back on his finger, not hard, but enough that it startles Geralt, putting him off balance and causing a sharp intake of breath. Geralt’s hands fly to Eskel’s legs to steady himself on his knees—pain forgotten.

Eskel laughs quietly, “Touch yourself. It’ll help.”

Biting his lip, Geralt gingerly takes one hand off of Eskel’s thigh to stroke his cock. Sighing in relief from the pleasant friction he quickly builds up speed, sighs deepening when Eskel presses a second finger into him. Soon Geralt is pushing his ass back on Eskel’s fingers, “I want more. Need more.”

Eskel can hear Geralt’s heartbeat tripping along like an erratic drumbeat, its intoxicating. “Sit on my cock,” he orders, and Geralt whimpers at the demand but doesn’t hesitate. Pausing to spread himself wide Geralt lowers himself onto Eskel with a broken cry, seating himself down to the base.

“Can I-”

“No. Jus’ keep touchin’ yourself, wanna feel you come like this.” Eskel has to concentrate hard not to lose himself right here, swallowed in that tight heat, with Geralt desperate on top of him. “Tha’s it, your doin’ so good. Your gonna come for me jus’ like this aren’t you?”

A low whimper is all Eskel gets in response. Nosing Geralt’s ponytail out of the way Eskel nuzzles at the back of his neck there. “You like my thick cock in your ass?”

Geralt tips his head back again, panting and keening. “Burns. Feels good. Fuuuck…” His ass squeezes Eskel’s cock tight, spasming around it rhythmically as he comes hard.

“Shhh. Shhh, ‘s alright.” Alcohol covered cloth in hand Eskel is quickly wiping away all the capsaicin from Geralt’s nipples, and hipbones—from his breastbone and everywhere else he trailed it leaving only red skin behind. Collapsed in Eskel’s arms Geralt is heaving, deep gulping breaths. Eskel rocks him gently letting this one pass too. It takes longer this time but eventually Geralt’s breathing evens out and his cock twitches between his legs.

“Oh gods, it never ends,” Geralt sounds drunk.

Eskel smiles against his ear, “It does, eventually.” His own cock is still hard in Geralt’s tight ass and he doesn’t think he can wait any longer. “Lean forward, on your chest and knees.” Geralt moans harshly as he assumes the position. Eskel isn’t sure if its from the loss of his cock or from the way Geralt’s raw nipples are rubbing on the bedspread—probably both. Adding more oil he thrusts all the way back in, knocking the air out of Geralt. The pace Eskel sets isn’t quite brutal but it isn’t gentle either, he’s ready to get off now. Wants to fill Geralt up and mark him all over. Wants Geralt to know who owns him. Each thrust is deep and solid when Eskel plunges home—this is his, Geralt gives him this again and again, this belongs to Eskel—and Geralt lets out feral noises as Eskel fucks him into the bed.

“I can’t, Eskel. Please.” Geralt’s face is turned to the side and pressed against the bedspread, his eyes squeezed shut against his impending orgasm.

“You can and you will.” Eskel’s answer is firm.

“Please,” Geralt begs, “I’m…”

“You can do it for me. You can give me one more.” Eskel’s fingernails scrape down Geralt’s back, eight little red lines and Geralt moans loudly. Eskel’s squeezes Geralt’s ass cheeks, spreading them apart to watch himself disappear there and its only a few more hard thrusts before Geralt’s hole spasms around him again, weaker this time. It’s all Eskel needs though to be washed away in his own pleasure, coming in Geralt’s tightness, falling over him and catching himself on his arms to kiss the back of Geralt’s neck.

Eskel’s own voice is gravelly this time, “Thank you. I love you. Love you s’ much.”


Eskel wipes Geralt down with a cool cloth, and tucks him under the covers. The tray of food and apple juice gets brought over and replaces all the oils and alcohol on the bedside table. Feeding Geralt little bites, one at a time, Eskel trades each bite with a small kiss. After Geralt drinks the juice Eskel crawls under the covers with him and wraps his arms and legs both around him. Geralt is nuzzling into Eskel’s neck half asleep when Eskel hears him say, “I’d do it again.”

Chapter Text

Vesemir was the last one to arrive at Kaer Morhen in the fall after he set out on the Path again that summer. It seemed as though a new life had been breathed into him and it warmed Eskel to his toes in a way the fire just couldn’t. Geralt had returned at the same time as he had; they’d met up on the treacherous mountain path to the keep and rode the last of it together. Lambert had already been in the keep when they arrived, bitching about a slow summer and preparing to go fishing with a few bombs down at the lake.

It was far from perfect but it was home and they were family. It felt a lot more lonely than in the past of course, but having a large room and Geralt to share it eased the pain some. That neither Lambert, nor Vesemir, seemed to be at all bothered by them sharing it eased it even further. Kaer Morhen was one place where was Eskel free to be himself and be with Geralt. To wrap his arms around Geralt holding him close anytime of the day, to ruthlessly rut into him all night and have no fear of being overheard and then run out of the inn.

So it sat oddly with Eskel when Geralt seemed hesitant to open up for his kisses in their room that night. Sometimes Geralt very much enjoyed it when Eskel pushed him mentally, gave him orders, took on a bossy demeanor in bed. Trying for that Eskel rolled over on top of him sitting astride his hips and pinned his wrists above his head. Face close to Geralt’s he pressed his lips against Geralt’s own, tongue darting out to lick at them.

“Tell me,” Eskel demanded looking Geralt right in the eyes.

Geralt whimpered in return, “Tell you what?” He squirmed under Eskel trying to free his own hips.

“Tell me why your holdin’ back.” Eskel kissed Geralt’s neck, nuzzling there and sucking at the soft skin.

“I… I want something.” Geralt shuddered softly beneath his legs and when Eskel drew back his eyes were closed. He opened them to stare back at Eskel. “I just don’t know how to, to ask for it?” Geralt let his eyes slide closed and seemed to be waiting for Eskel’s reaction.

Eskel softened immediately, “You don’ hafta worry about it, jus’ tell me what you want from me.” Rolling back off of Geralt to the side Eskel drew him over into his arms, and threw a leg over him. “I jus’ wanna give you what you need.”

“You know how some brothels offer, girls with extra services?” Geralt spoke against Eskel’s chest as though he still didn’t want to be seen asking this.

“Mhm, like I do for you sometimes, boss you around.” Eskel didn’t see what Geralt was getting at, this was territory they’d already covered, and it felt good.

“Let you shackle them to the bed,” Geralt let out a heavy breath, warm on Eskel’s skin, “or maybe shackle you to it?”

Eskel’s heart skipped a beat, thudded along and then skipped another. There was no hiding that from Geralt. He couldn’t imagine putting cold metal shackles around Geralt’s pale skin—the idea of Geralt immobile and at his mercy was extremely erotic though— something less cruel maybe?

“You want me to tie you up?” Eskel tried to keep his voice neutral, “I mean I don’ really wanna shackle you, dimeritium jus’ seems so impersonal to me. ‘M not a witch hunter after all.”

“I…” Geralt paused and kissed Eskel chest, “want to be at your mercy. I love it when you hold me down. I want it like that but I want you to have both hands to do whatever you want to me? If that makes sense?”

Any thought Eskel had of keeping his tone neutral was lost, “That sounds fuckin’ amazin’, and I wanna do it… NOW.” Eskel caught himself and added, “If you’re really alright with me doin’ that to you, that is.”

A gruff laugh and Geralt crawling up his chest was all the response he got. Lips finding his own and a tongue delving into his mouth, no longer hesitant. “Gods yes, please. I think I have some rope in my room upstairs.”


Fifteen minutes, one trip up the stairs to Geralt’s room later, Eskel had Geralt splayed out spread eagle on the bed. Each foot was tied to a corner and both hands were tied together above his head. Geralt’s chest was rose and fell softly with his breaths, and he watched Eskel’s every move diligently. The oil came out, and Eskel slicked both their cocks, lining himself up with Geralt and sliding along side him. Watching as Geralt stiffened and strained against the rope Eskel felt himself tense up—this was extraordinary. A hard tug at his own sac slowed him down. He pulled Geralt’s balls gently away from his body as well, earning a full body arc and a deep groan as Eskel averted his orgasm.

Every time Geralt jerked against the ropes, tugging hard in his ecstasy, Eskel’s cock ached harder. He wanted to make Geralt come like this, bound down and helpless. Settling between Geralt’s legs Eskel stroked himself while he ran a finger over and around Geralt’s tender bud.

“Uhng, shit. Please, Eskel I need to come,” Geralt whined and Eskel let his finger find its way in. Stroking swift and deep over that sweet spot, listening to Geralt’s vulnerable cries fill the room. Faster and faster Eskel’s hand moved over his own cock, drowning in the heady power of it, the sheer wantonness Geralt was displaying in front of him. Geralt’s ass clamping down on his finger and his cock spurting up his belly with an animalistic sound was all Eskel needed to follow him over the edge. Coming all over his own hand, finger still buried in Geralt’s ass, and painting Geralt’s balls in stripes of white. Eskel sucked in air-hungry breaths, leaning down to lick his own cum from Geralt’s body, he saw Geralt completely relaxed into the hold of the ropes around his wrists, looking totally at peace.

Eskel crawled up his body and kissed Geralt full on the mouth, exploring his mouth as he reach up to untie his hands. “Gods, I love you,” there was a tinge of a happy laugh in Eskel voice that he couldn’t keep away, no matter how hard he tried. It was true… He loved this man, who brought him new ideas, gave him beautiful ways of thinking about things, and offered him such complete trust.

Chapter Text

The whooshing of Geralt’s pulse soothed Eskel. The sound was steady and powerful under his ear where his head laid over the join of Geralt’s hip and leg, femoral artery thundering away as Geralt’s heart beat with arousal. Four fingers buried in Geralt’s ass past the knuckles, moving them in an almost imperceptible Igni. The salty taste of Geralt’s precum leaked onto Eskel’s tongue, the head of his cock was hot and throbbing in Eskel’s mouth. And Eskel drank it all in, the sweet sounds burbling out of Geralt’s mouth, the whoosh of his blood as it rushed by under his ear, the way Geralt strained and bucked underneath him. Hands gripping the bedspread, Geralt’s breath came in panted gasps, Eskel’s fingers twitched and moved within him, slowly warming his prostate, heating him from within, never burning but so very hot.

Soft moans escaped Geralt’s throat. “Gods, please.” Eskel’s other hand found its way up, under Geralt’s thigh, seeking out Geralt’s hand fisted in the covers and pulling it away, interlocking his fingers into Geralt’s. Offering him a rock in this storm he was creating. Geralt squeezed back on his fingers and a shudder rocked his body as Eskel licked over the head of his cock. Kissing down the length Eskel drew one of Geralt’s balls into his mouth. Tongue pressed against the soft skin he rolled the orb in his mouth, sucking at it, tugging it gently away from Geralt’s body. Eskel pressed his hand deep—Geralt let out a guttural moan—thumb rubbing up behind Geralt’s sac.

Popping his mouth off Geralt’s ball wetly, Eskel nosed there, licking at the skin behind Geralt’ balls. “Wanna see you come,” Eskel let his moist lips move right up against Geralt’s skin, breath whispering over it, hand tightening briefly on Geralt’s own by his hip.

In return Geralt groaned, deep and low, “Fuck,” his other hand went the headboard and pushed against it forcing himself against Eskel’s fingers in his ass. “I want all of you.”

Eskel’s gut did a flip at those words. I want all of you. His brain took a moment to catch up with his cock. “Melitele, Geralt,” Eskel turned to suck at the tender hollow of his hip and thigh, “You like it like this? When I stretch you out on all my fingers?” His own cock was so hard it hurt, but Eskel could wait, he wanted to see Geralt trip over that cliff and catch him first.

“Feels so good.” Geralt pushed against the headboard with his hand again, forcing himself against Eskel’s hand in his ass and moaning. Only Eskel’s thumb rubbing at the skin between his stretched hole and balls prevented him from sinking further onto Eskel’s hand. Geralt reached down from the headboard and grabbed Eskel’s wrist. “Please, I want more. I want it all.” Geralt’s breath was so erratic it almost sounded like he was hyperventilating—gulping and then stuttering in his lungs as he struggled to get it back out.

Eskel groaned himself. Fuck . Could Geralt really take this? Gods knew the idea of giving him everything was extremely erotic. He’d be giving Geralt something no one else ever had or would, he was sure of it. But it was so much, and it wasn’t anything they’d ever done before. Untangling his hand from Geralt’s and drawing himself up onto his knees Eskel kissed the head of Geralt’s cock.

“Alright. Shhh. I’ll give it all to you,” Eskel licked up his cock, a hot line. “Jus’ keep talkin’ to me.”

The oil was still on the bed and Eskel uncorked it with his teeth. Adding it all to his hand, his wrist, and Geralt’s entrance he tossed the empty vial aside. Geralt moaned again. “Mhmm, want to feel all of you.” Gods, if Geralt kept talking like that Eskel didn’t know if he could make it without coming on himself. Eskel played his thumb over Geralt’s already tight rim and watched in fascination as Geralt shivered. Bending down to rest his head on Geralt’s thigh again, Eskel threaded his free hand back into Geralt’s. As much as he wanted to see Geralt’s face he wanted to hear that thrumming artery under his ear again, wanted his skin on Geralt’s. Eskel craved being close to Geralt right now; he didn’t want to be looming over him, he wanted to be cuddled up to him.

Thumb teasing Geralt’s rim again, Eskel listened to the thrum of Geralt’s pulse and darted his tongue out to tease at Geralt’s balls. When Geralt’s breath was so disjointed Eskel could hardly track it he pulled his fingers back and tucked his thumb inside of them. Easing his hand back into Geralt he kept up a steady pressure even as the glide slowed.

“Talk to me?” Eskel asked softly.

“I…” Geralt’s voice sounded broken, “I’ve never…” Geralt trailed off and Eskel began to draw his hand back but Geralt reached back down to stop him. “No, please don’t stop.”

Eskel closed his eyes and listened to Geralt’s heartbeat. Strong and steady as he pressed his hand against Geralt’s entrance again. It was so loose and yet so tight around his knuckles still. But Geralt’s hand rested on his wrist, guiding him there, asking for this, and his heart beat didn’t falter. And then the knuckle of his thumb slipped inside and Geralt gasped out loud.

Eskel stilled instantly. Geralt’s body was a hot glove all around him, and his own cock throbbed, leaking onto the bedspread at the feeling of slick wet heat. Melitele, Geralt had taken his whole hand. He looked up to see Geralt breathing quickly, belly rising and falling with the intensity of it all. Eskel was about to ask Geralt if he was alright when he spoke softly, “Just wait for me. I…”

“Whatever you need.” Eskel kissed the hollow of his hip again, careful not to move his hand at all.

After several long, long, moment’s Geralt’s hand released Eskel’s wrist where it connected to his body, where it was embedded inside him. Geralt teased his own cock with his fingers, it had wilted but not as much as Eskel thought he would have. Taking his time Geralt slowly stroked himself back to hardness. Breath coming faster a little bit at a time, until he was fully hard and his ass was gripping Eskel’s hand like a vice.

“Fuck. Yes.” Geralt uttered, ass clenching around Eskel.

“Yeah? You like that, being so full?”

“Uh huh.” Geralt was panting again, jerking himself and Eskel couldn’t resist curling his fingers into a fist inside of him, pushing his wrist a little deeper. “Ooh Fuck yeah, yeah.” Eskel looked up at Geralt and squeezed Geralt’s fingers hard at the sight of the small bump on Geralt’s normally perfectly flat muscled abdomen. That was him, there, resting deep inside his lover. Geralt had let him do that, wanted it. Fucking Hells. And when Geralt striped his own abdomen white, ass clenching down hard on Eskel’s wrist and crying out hard Eskel had to bite his own lip to keep from crying out with him.

Geralt was so sensitive when Eskel withdrew his hand that his body shook, half laughing, half crying from the flood of emotions and sensations. Eskel crawled up the bed and curled up right beside him, pulling the spare blanket up from the bottom of the bed to keep Geralt warm. He kissed Geralt softly and buried his face in Geralt’s neck, whispering to Geralt how beautiful he was as he stroked himself to completion. It was a short effort before Eskel was spilling hot against Geralt’s skin and wrapping himself as tightly as he could around him. Intertwined they curled tighter, nearly drifting off.

“Love you so much,” Eskel murmured roughly in Geralt’s ear.

“I know, I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Stepping off the boat from Skellige Eskel was glad to be back on solid ground. The reek of Novigrad was nothing to miss, but there was a lightness in Eskel’s step nonetheless, because he knew Geralt would be here waiting. Not much in life on The Continent could be counted on, but one thing that was mostly consistent was the shipping schedules. So when Eskel had left Geralt word that he would be back on Trolde’s Cog in a particular month, he was confident Geralt would have them a room at the Rosemary and Thyme, ready for a warm welcome. A hot meal and a other things awaited him.

The streets where a mess with litter and muck from the fall weather. Eskel ignored it all and made his way through Novigrad, dropping one sword off at Hattori’s for repair on his way. Sure enough when he shoved through the door at the cabaret Zoltan greeted him heartily and Dandelion waved him over.

“Roasted apples and pork on the house. Have a seat Priscilla will fetch Geralt from the Ruby Room. What will you have to drink?” Dandy was always good for a mouthful of words, “We’ve got to get you at least half drunk if we want to hear any truly good stories!”

Eskel’s face pulled into a half-cocked grin, “Whatever you’ve got thas’ dark, Kaedweni if you have it.” He didn’t mind Dandy, especially when he did two thirds of the talking for him. Finding a table in the far back corner, Eskel pulled himself to the end of the bench and watched for Geralt. Whisper quiet boots on the floor, even Eskel could barely hear him moving quickly across the room with the other patrons talking and carousing.

The half-cocked grin exploded into a full smiled though at the site of Geralt weaving in and out of the crowd, making a beeline for him. Scooting in on the bench as close as he could right as Priscilla dropped off the stout and food. She didn’t say a word, but the slight upturn of her lips and the sparkle of her expression said it all. They were among friends here.

Pressed together knees to shoulders, Geralt’s forehead knocked lightly against Eskel’s own. Looking into Geralt’s eyes for a moment Eskel squeezed Geralt’s thigh tight underneath the table.

“Good summer?” Eskel let his hand linger a moment before bringing it up to drink his beer.

“Better now,” Geralt beamed at him, “Eat your food. I want to get out of this noise. Relax upstairs in our room.”

Eskel snorted into his beer. I’ll bet you do. The food was delicious and warm going down, and the stout was as chewy as it should be. He tried not to rush trough it too fast, tried to enjoy it, but his desire to get Geralt upstairs and onto the bed, or table, or anywhere without an audience really was overwhelming.


“You’re not even going to let the man tell one story, Geralt? There were sirens surely! Beautiful and singing their haunting songs,” Dandy called out to them as Geralt led him away from the taproom by the hand.

“Nope,” Geralt didn’t even bother turning around to answer. “Maybe tomorrow afternoon.”

Sirens were definitely haunting, and not in a beautiful way, rather a sure to haunt your dreams type of way. As for the singing it was more like shrieking if you asked Eskel. But Dandy never got the chance as Geralt tugged him up the stairs and around the corner.


As soon as they were inside the Ruby Room Geralt was shucking out of his armor and leathers. Boots were sent to the nearest corner and swords were laid on the table. Eskel was still sitting in one of the chairs next to the table, armor and swords piled next to him, working on his own boots, when Geralt tipped his head up by the chin and caught him in a full-mouthed kiss. Hands were working at the laces on his leathers before Geralt’s mouth even broke for air.

“Gods, it’s been too long,” Geralt mumbled heatedly against Eskel’s cheek. A quiet moan was all Eskel could manage to get out in agreement because Geralt’s hand had found his cock. Was pulling it out out from Eslkel’s braies and working it roughly in his hand.

Eskel delved his hands into Geralt’s hair, loosening the ponytail there and discarding the leather strip on the floor. “Fuckin’ Melitele Geralt. Can’t wait ‘til we make it to the bed?” But as soon as the words left his mouth Eskel’s fingers were gripping hard in Geralt’s loose hair, and the groan it drew out of him went straight to Eskel’s balls. Kissing Geralt’s exposed neck as he bent Geralt’s head backward by his fisted hair, Eskel sucked at the skin there. Geralt rode his hips up against Eskel’s bringing their cocks flush together and slid his hand loosely around both.

“Uh, Oh, Gods. Fuck yeah, keep-” Geralt thrust up through his hand along the length of Eskel’s cock, “-keep your, hand in my hair.” It took a few tries but Geralt quickly found a pace that was satisfying in the way it roughly rubbed their cocks together, heads bumping against each other on the upstroke. “Yeah, just like tha- ohhh,” Geralt let loose a moan as Eskel fisted his hair on both sides of his head, pulling his head back to lick and nibble at his collarbone.

Eskel let his hands slide through Geralt’s hair to his pitiful whine at the loss. One hand traveled down to the small of Geralt’s back to guide the rocking motion there, middle two fingers dipping into the cleft of his ass to rub over his tight pucker. Teasing at it gently. The other hand would around Geralt’s silver locks and then pulled hard. Eskel felt Geralt’s asshole clench under his fingers with each tug of his hair. He smiled into Geralt’s neck and tightened his grip just to feel that sweet twitch beneath his fingers again. Pushing Geralt was so easy sometimes.

The rhythm of Geralt’s cock against his own was faltering. Stopping and stalling. Eskel moved his fingers back and forth over Geralt’s tight pucker, no one had been there in the months Eskel was over in Skellige. He knew it, Geralt saved that only for him. It was tight again and he couldn’t wait to open it back up. He thrust against Geralt’s cock, using that hand on his ass and back to keep Geralt steady as he rolled his hips up into Geralt’s fist. Breath caught in his lungs, Geralt splattered hot cum all over Eskel’s abdomen and chest.

“Ungh, Fuck.” Geralt tried to bring his head forward to rest against Eskel but Eskel head him steady by the hair.

“HmmMmm,” Eskel stared at him for a moment shaking his head. “You were in such a hurry to get off we coudn’ even get to the bed. I think you can get down on your knees, clean me up. Finish what you started.” Geralt groaned at the wicked half smirk on Eskel’s face.

“Yes, Eskel.” Geralt moved to slid down Eskel’s body and Eskel released his hair, making a show of sitting back in the chair and relaxing.

Chapter Text

Turning the slim silver rod over between his fingers, Eskel stared at it in the firelight. It looked so harmless. Putting something like this into the head of his cock—much less letting gravity work it all the way inside—was not a thought that had ever occurred to him. Sure it felt great to tease at the slit with his finger while jerking off, or when Geralt pressed his tongue up against it like he was trying to lick inside. But that was worlds apart from actually putting anything inside your cock.


It wasn’t as if Eskel had even asked Aldith about this either. She just cheerfully asked him one day when he was visiting her in Vizima if he’d ever tried sounding before, and when Eskel gave her a confused look she’d launched into a calm explanation. All about how it was the medical practice of inserting a rod into a urethra. Normally used to cure strictures, and other urinary ailments. Since Eskel had never suffered any problems of that sort, he laughed at her and informed her that no he’d had no need for it.

“Oh! Plenty of men enjoy it who have no need for it…” Aldith giggled at him as if she were letting him in on secret.

What followed was a surprisingly not all that awkward conversation about the merits of putting metal rods in one’s cock for pleasure. Since they’d long since crossed over the bridge from a woman paid to fuck a witcher and a witcher paying for the fuck, and into the much more comfortable (for Eskel at least) territory of close friends, Aldith did not go so far as to demonstrate this supposed pleasure for Eskel. She did however send him away with a rolled leather case, a kiss on the cheek, and the strong suggestion that perhaps Eskel’s other half might enjoy letting Eskel use these with him.

Eskel had given a fond smile at those words. Only Aldith referred to Geralt as his other half. She knew him so well, understood what all he’d gone through for them to be together, all the way from the beginning. It was hard watching her age while he stayed mostly unchanged, but he had learned so much from her. Even talked to her about Geralt—of the things he enjoyed in bed and how best to achieve them. In fact she had been fairly instrumental in Eskel coming to terms with the fact that he really enjoyed giving Geralt what he liked, even though it sometimes made him too possessive. Maybe, in time he’d thought, this would become just another thing he learned from her as strange as it sounded to him at the moment.


Now here Eskel stood in the middle of a rented room at the Broom and Bean. Not a soul around except the innkeep half asleep at the empty bar downstairs. The surrounding settlement was peaceful, his medallion was calm, the fire kept the room warm in the summer night. Eskel had always felt that if he was going to try something on Geralt that was unknown or maybe risky, very far out of the norm, that he should give it a try himself first. No man should order another to war who isn’t willing to fight himself. It was his way of making sure he knew exactly what he was giving Geralt to get through. A simple spanking, some bruises, that kind of thing was easy enough to know the feel of, the limits on. But this? He couldn’t even imagine it. How could he offer it to Geralt without that knowledge?

Eskel set the thin silver rod back down on the unrolled leather of the case. Stripping off his armor and sitting cross-legged on the single bed he leaned back against the wall and exhaled. It wasn’t the largest silver rod in the tiny leather bundle—no some were far far larger, terrifyingly so—nor was it quite the smallest. Exactly as Aldith had recommended it was the second smallest, as big around as a small quill. She’d also gone into great detail that if he were to use this on a non-witcher he should boil them first and let them cool, to reduce the chance of illness in his partner. Neither he nor Geralt had to concern themselves with infection though, one small upside to the many downs of being made into what they were.

Taking a breath in and out again Eskel let one hand dribble some oil from one of his vials onto his cock, not even hard. Of course not, you going to shove something in it you idiot, he thought. Re-corking the vial Eskel stroked himself and tried to breathe through his anxiety. He trusted Aldith, she wouldn’t have shared this if she didn’t think Geralt would enjoy it. Almost blindly he felt with his other hand for the rod.

Cock barely interested, Eskel ran the rod length-wise along the slit, coating it in the oil there. The air in his lungs felt heavy when it escaped him, and his cock pulsed in his grip. It did feel good to touch himself there, but the rod was cold and startling. Maybe he should have boiled it anyway and let it cool, but not get so cold as it was now. Eskel stroked the silver over the head again, cracking one eye open, mouth stretched wide and scars pulling comically to see it slide against his own slit. Alright, that was pretty hot to watch. Eskel groaned and thunked his head against the wall, cock twitching in his hand. Stroking himself a little faster, Eskel let himself imagine what it would feel like. The metal sliding in cold, would it feel like taking a satisfying piss in the morning only in reverse?

Another deep breath and Eskel looked down at his now half hard cock. Squeezing the head gaped his slit ever so slightly and he tipped the silver rod up, nestling the end just inside. Barely resting it inside the head and Eskel’s breath hitched hard. He’d never felt so sensitive in his life. So open and vulnerable. Raw. It wasn’t pain exactly but it was so intense he straightened his legs out and curled his toes. The motions shifted his hips and gravity pulled the silver rod a hair deeper.

“Oh Melitele fuck me.” Eskel gasped at the invasion. So little yet that tiny bit—no more then the distance between his fingertip and first knuckle—felt like everything . Like that rod was taking it all from him and he would never get it back. With a death grip on the rod to keep it from sinking Eskel jacked his hand up and down his cock. Trying to grant himself some relief from the intensity. As his cock stiffened up and his breathing slowed down Eskel leaned back and tried to enjoy the sensation. It wasn’t painful. It was raw stimulation, from the metal to his cock, and he could feel every minute shift and nudge. As slowly as he could he let his grip relax and gently held the end of rod down towards his cock. Slow as a burning match the rod slid down into Eskel with gravity. It took his breath away. He squeezed his eyes shut hard as it worked into him, spreading him open in an entirely new way.

Opening his eyes Eskel’s vision was a little blurry, and he groaned at seeing a few inches of the metal settled inside his cock. He throbbed around it. Pinching it in between his fingers, Eskel started to draw it out, only to immediately realize he felt like he had to come. Right now. Stopping suddenly he relaxed his hold on the metal and again let it follow gravity down. Further this time, another inch and it had felt like it was fucking him. The out and in of it.

“Ohhh fuuck…” Eskel groaned. He needed to come. This was so intense he didn’t know how long he could hold himself back from it. The silver wasn’t cold anymore. Warm now, heated to the perfect temperature by his own body. Eskel flexed his toes again and took a huge breath, holding it in. Pulling the rod out almost all the way out, he had to squeeze the base of his cock hard not to come, then he pressed gently at it to send it sliding back in. Gods his cock was throbbing hard around that solid metal as if fucked him open. Lighting up every nerve along the way and making a tingle creep over his balls and around to his tightly clenching hole. Fuck. Fuck. This was too good. Too much. Eskel did it again. Inhaling sharply as he withdrew it and breath stuttering out of him the whole slick slide back down into his cock.

It was so deep now. Almost the full length of his cock and Eskel’s legs were shaking with the pleasure of it as it sat deep inside him, holding him open. Stroking himself felt new too. His cock felt even harder in his hand, unyielding and stiff, it throbbed thickly, trapped between his hand the silver embedded inside. Eskel could feel it there, along the bottom of his cock, a hard line running down it. Fingers skimming it he felt his balls pulling up. No more. There was no way he could take anymore. No way he could wait any longer. Fumbling for the end Eskel drew the rod out and felt the heat welling up right behind it. Come dribbled sluggishly from the head of his cock like the rod had slowed it’s escape.

Every muscle in Eskel’s abdomen tensed with his orgasm as he watched his cock give what it could. It felt like time ticked by slowly as he stared at his cock, almost betrayed that it had felt so… amazing. Eskel blinked blearily, eyes slightly wet from the intensity of it all. Knocking his head back against the wall again he, high and a little bewildered, cupping his hand protectively over his wilting cock and balls.

This was not something Geralt would want to take. Geralt hated to wait, and Eskel loved making him wait. And Eskel was very very good at making himself wait. If this had tipped Eskel so far over the edge so fast, there was no way Geralt could hold out through it, and it was only asking for failure. No need to impose that on Geralt, when Eskel himself barely had the energy to wipe himself clean before curling up and pulling a blanket over his head.

No, he would thank Aldith for the idea later but Eskel didn’t think this was a type of intensity Geralt would enjoy withstanding. Himself on the other hand…

Chapter Text

Soft whimpers filled Eskel’s ears. Geralt’s sighing moans, and sweet keening. Beautiful sounds from a beautiful man. Legs spread wide and tied straight up and back to the bedposts, Eskel’s rope twisting up his calves—around his ankles and in between his toes—holding them there for Geralt, letting him relax into it. Each arm strung up to match by the wrist, with Geralt gripping the ropes where they passed his hands.

Lowering his head again Eskel laved over Geralt’s furl, ignoring his cock and balls, hard and tight against his belly. Eskel wanted him loose, open, relaxed, and desperate. Geralt groaned when Eskel nibbled around the sides lightly. Tongue teasingly following his teeth, thumbs pressing into the muscles there, pulling at Geralt, tugging him open further.

Eskel’s tongue prodded at that tight ring of muscle, eyes watching his lover, and Geralt gasped flexing his hands on the ropes. Cock twitching against the bed at the sight Eskel sealed his lips around Geralt’s pucker and moaned, letting Geralt feel all the vibrations of his own arousal. Pressing his tongue inside, Eskel closed his eyes and let himself be taken over by the sensations of it all. The sound of Geralt, the sound of himself, the way the blankets felt against his own cock, the slick smooth feel of Geralt under his tongue.

Grabbing Geralt around the hips Eskel pulled him tighter, burying himself in the taste that was so perfectly Geralt. A sharp cry from above drove Eskel further, and he pointed his tongue, seeking deeper into Geralt. He could feel Geralt’s body rock slightly with each heaving breath now. Regretfully he drew back, reaching for the oil, slicking his hard cock, and lining it up with Geralt’s entrance. It was glistening, wet, and slightly parted now. Perfect for him.

Chapter Text

Winters were cold in the Blue Mountains but Geralt didn’t mind. Kaer Morhen was home even just with the four of them. Most days Vesemir kept them busy with repairs and idle work. The daily grind of maintaining a keep as large as Kaer Morhen with only eight hands and a third of the year’s time. The cold of the winter was offset by the warmth of getting to be with Eskel for months on end though. Day in and day out. Waking up next him; eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him. Slipping into a steaming double vat tub with him and letting Eskel wash his hair.

Once in a while even Vesemir relented and kept a lazy day, reading bestiaries and drinking mead. Those were the best days. Geralt would sleep late in Eskel’s bed undisturbed until Eskel brought up food from the pantry.

This morning there was no smell of food though, only the smell of Eskel freshly shaved, lips moving tenderly over Geralt’s spine. He could always tell when Eskel had just shaved because the juniper smell of his shave soap was much stronger for a while. Geralt smiled to himself, head turned to the side resting on his arms. Prone on the bed, the blanket covered Geralt up to his ass, and he could feel Eskel behind him, kissing down his spine meticulously.

Despite Geralt’s closed eyes Eskel would know he was awake by the change in his breathing and heart rate. There was no fooling a witcher there. The kisses continued lower. The blanket was slowly pulled away and Eskel’s teeth sank into the meat of Geralt’s ass.

“Ahh, mhmm.” Geralt spread his legs wide allowing Eskel to settle himself inside of them. The invitation was obvious.

Hot air flowed over the bitten flesh, followed by another bite, closer to the middle this time and Geralt groaned. There was a popping noise and fingers slick at his entrance, teasing back and forth over it. Rubbing at the tender ring of muscle there.

Geralt grunted in surprise when Eskel pushed in two fingers at once stretching him wide.

“Still loose for me,” Eskel sounded satisfied as he fucked his fingers slowly in and out of Geralt’s ass, scissoring them to pull his rim open.

“Uhg, fuck, Eskel,” Geralt grunted again at the stretch, harder and faster than usual. Admittedly last night had been… fun. “I’m a little tender.”

“Mmm.” Eskel’s tongue licked around his fingers, soft and wet. Soothing the ache, even as he added a third briefly. “Still want my cock?” Mouth gone one finger tugged at Geralt’s rim repeatedly causing him to groan deeply.

Geralt sighed dejectedly at the idea of not getting Eskel’s cock. “Of course I still want it. A little pain will even make it better.” Fuck. Why did I let that come out? Geralt held his breath waiting for Eskel to comment on it, but it never came. The finger moved from his rim, rubbing over it again, and Eskel’s breath ghosted up his spine until his weight was laying over Geralt.

Body shifting over Geralt’s, the head of Eskel’s cock nudged at his pucker. Eskel’s hands sought out Geralt’s under his head, lacing his fingers into Geralt’s. “I want it to be good for you, better for you,” Eskel buried his head into Geralt’s shoulder.

Ass stretched wide around the slow thrust of Eskel’s thickness, Geralt shuddered and moaned underneath him. Mind pulled between the painful stretch of his sore rim and the sinking of Eskel’s teeth into his shoulder as Eskel took him. “OHh, Fuck yes!”

“Want it to be what you like.” Eskel licked over the place he’d just bitten and Geralt wanted to say thank you, but held it back for now.

Fucking him slow and easy Eskel drove into him leisurely. Each and every thrust dragged at his tender hole though and Geralt whimpered through it. Cock hard and leaking onto Eskel’s bed. Eskel bit and nibbled at his shoulders, his ears, and his neck, licking over each spot when he was done to sooth the hurt. Geralt found himself arching into it every time Eskel’s lips found new territory. Hungry for more.

“Love that you want me even like this.” Eskel’s thrusts were speeding up and the solid jolts to Geralt’s prostate were sending him higher. “’S gonna hurt more after you come, but I’ll make it better.”

Those words sent Geralt right over the edge. Knowing the Eskel knew he was getting off on the pain of it and that it didn’t bother Eskel at all. The absolute sureness that Eskel would take care of him when this was done. Touch him softly and help him settle down in his mind.

Clenching tightly around Eskel’s cock did hurt. And Eskel fucked him right through it. Geralt gasped and grunted at the heightened sensation of Eskel’s cock head, slipping in and back out of his sore hole after his orgasm. Softening cock trapped under him against the bed in a sticky mess.

Then the wet heat of Eskel coming just inside Geralt’s rim made him moan, long and loud. So loud Eskel’s hand sought out his mouth to block the sound, whispering in Geralt’s ear. “Shh. Shh. Shit, so good for me. Always so good.”

Geralt was still reeling, Eskel’s hot cum felt soothing on his aching asshole, and Eskel was rapidly scooting down his body. Spreading his cheeks wide.

“What are-” Geralt was cut off by a deeply aroused groan from Eskel. It silenced him instantly, because Eskel wasn’t often noisy or prone to such open arousal.

“Fuck, look at you. So good, takin’ me like that. Wantin’ me like that.” The deep gravel of Eskel’s voice was sinking into Geralt’s bones, urging him to let Eskel have this moment even as he could feel Eskel’s cum roll slowly out of his loosened hole. “Uhng.” Eskel’s breathing sped up audibly behind him. “I’ma make you feel better now.”

Legs pushed further out and up to his sides Geralt couldn’t have felt more open. Still it startled him completely when Eskel’s wet tongue licked him from balls to tender hole. Shuddering and trying to hold himself still, Geralt pulled his arms under his chest. Gods Above was Eskel really going to lick him clean? Another swipe of Eskel’s tongue, this time directly over his sore pucker, answered him. Geralt tried to concentrate on his breathing. Deep and strong.

The warmth and the wetness of Eskel’s tongue did feel amazing. It relieved the burn around his rim, and the gentle way Eskel pointed the tip of it and probed at his muscles calmed the ache there. Breathes growing more and more settled Geralt noticed Eskel’s hands where massaging the tops of his ass cheeks, up to his lower back, thumbs digging into the broad muscles there that had rocked his hips underneath Eskel earlier.

“Feelsh good.” Gods, I sound almost drunk. Drifting softly Geralt wondered if this was something Eskel had longed to do. In the way Geralt liked pain, he knew Eskel was more interested in cum that he was for sure. This had never occurred to him before though. He wanted to talk to Eskel about it. Maybe later, he was too warm and sleepy now.

Chapter Text

“I feel like you’re puttin’ too much trust in me there.” Eskel pulls Geralt further back against him, wrapping his arms around Geralt tightly and nuzzling into Geralt’s hair. Geralt always smells good, like blade oil and leather, and it calms Eskel’s nerves somewhat about this whole conversation.

“I DO trust you, that much though. I mean when we take a contract together, you’ve got my back and that’s the same.” Geralt shifts, turning in Eskel’s arms, trying to bury his face in Eskel’s shoulder and chest.

Actively holding in a sigh Eskel runs his hands along Geralt’s hair, undoing his ponytail, and sinking his fingers into it. Massaging Geralt’s scalp he finds it tense, he can feel Geralt working his jaw muscles, and bends down to kiss Geralt’s forehead. Eskel wants Geralt to understand that he doesn’t judge him for wanting this, but it bothers him. It bothers him to be put in charge of it. “I know you trust me, an’ I love that you trust me s’ much. Sometimes it jus’ scares me how much you do trust me.” Eskel puts a knuckle under Geralt’s chin, thumb resting at the bottom of his lip, he tips Geralt’s face up to look at him. “This amount of responsibility for your life scares me is all. Nothin’ wrong with you wantin’ it.” Bending down Eskel kisses Geralt softly to drive the point home. There is nothing wrong with you.


“What are you afraid of? You love controlling everything about me when you’re bossing me around in bed. Deciding when I get to take a breath isn’t any different its… just so much more.” Staring right at him Geralt swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “And the thought of that really… I don’t know-” Geralt groans and pulls his head away to hide his face again.

A tiny chuckle slips out from Eskel and he immediately stops it, not wanting Geralt to mistake why he is laughing. “I get it, it turns you on.” Eskel pulls his legs up to sit cross legged, surrounding Geralt further in his lap. “A lot.” The statement causes Geralt to relax into his hold a bit, which encourages Eskel to keep talking. “M’ afraid of hurting you, of goin’ too far and not realizin’ it. I’d never forgive m’self.” Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding Eskel shudders at the thought a little. “How would I even know if I was gettin’ too close to that?”

Geralt’s arm snakes up from in between them to slide along Eskel’s neck and caress there. “You’d be listening to my heart like you always do.”

“S’not enough.” Eskel shakes his head, “I don’ trust m’self that much. M’ sorry.” Kissing Geralt deeply he tries to convey that he really is sorry he can’t give Geralt this. Eskel understands how much he wants it.


For a long while Geralt only sits, snuggled far into Eskel’s encompassing hold, still stroking Eskel’s neck gently. Eskel isn’t even sure how long its really been when Geralt finds his voice and speaks up, “What if I helped you?” Eskel says nothing, Geralt seems calm about this and he wants to see what Geralt has to say, let him speak on his own terms. Let Geralt take his time. “I could tell you when you’re at a good place and its getting too much.” Another pause from Geralt shorter this time, “And it’s not like we have to go very far with it, I just want to feel that control from you, you know?”

“I do know.” Taking a few moments to really consider what Geralt is saying Eskel voices his main concern, “How’re you gonna to tell me all this? S’not like you’re gonna be able to talk with my hand around your throat choking you.” Gods it sounds awful when he says it like that. A tiny bit thrilling, but mostly terrifying.

“I could touch you still if you don’t tie me up. Put my hand on your arm, squeeze you as long as its good and tap you as soon as its even a little bit not.” The answer came quick. Like Geralt had already put some thought into it before he had suggested helping Eskel. “I’ll share some of the weight of keeping us both safe.” Geralt sounds hopeful.

“I want you to tap me before it gets to be ‘not good’. Don’ push it. Let yourself feel me bein’ in control but if you start to see the color fade at all, I wan’ a tap. An’ I can stop it at any time, jus’ like you. Yes?” Geralt is pulling him roughly down by his neck for a breathless kiss.

“I promise.”




They eat early and go for a walk around the perimeter of Novigrad as the sun sets. Eskel thinks to himself its lovely, and he is glad he talked Geralt into getting away from Toussaint for awhile. As much as the warm weather is great, sometimes he just misses the north. Visiting Dandelion and Priscilla always provides a welcome excuse to get some northern air back in his lungs. As soon as Geralt turns them back toward the Rosemary and Thyme the butterflies in Eskel’s stomach pick up. Geralt squeezes his hand reassuringly though and acts as though tonight isn’t any different than all the others they have played together over the decades. Eskel wishes it wasn’t but secretly he is still a bit nervous.

Timing his breathing with their steps helps him settle his mind, he has to be in a good place for this and Eskel knows that. Geralt trusts him and there will be that constant communication to help him through it. Not how he usually does things but then this isn’t something he usually does. Requests from Geralt are few and far between though so Eskel almost always tries to accommodate them. After all that is what this really about for Eskel, the control yes, but about having the control to give Geralt what he needs.


By the time they arrive back at the cabaret Eskel is feeling better and sends Geralt upstairs to the Ruby Room to get ready. Orders him to get naked and sit cross-legged on the bed and wait. No touching himself. Waiting is always the hardest part for Geralt so Eskel doesn’t dally telling Dandy that they shouldn’t be disturbed until morning. Raiding the bar he gets some raspberry juice, and a few snacks for Geralt to have later when they are done. Their room already has a pitcher of water in it no doubt, because Dandy has long since learned Eskel’s preferences.

Taking the stairs methodically Eskel gently knocks on the door to let Geralt know they are starting. Walking in he sets his things on one of the large tables and approaches Geralt on the bed. He still has his wolf medallion on. It’s something that he would have removed if they were home and he had his silver bowl for it. Otherwise he is naked and sitting as directed on the bed.


Eskel strips down to only his leathers carefully folding his armor and stacking his swords on top. He rarely lets Geralt see this part of his preparation but this time he wants Geralt to watch him for some reason. In a way he will be a little less in control tonight he thinks and so he will share this with Geralt too. Seeing Geralt move Eskel almost tells him to stop until he realizes that Geralt is holding out his medallion. Chest tightening at the sight Eskel reached out and takes it sliding it around him own neck, next to his own, "Thank you." It's a barely audible whisper. He doesn't know how to thank Geralt for that properly yet so he continues on, removing his items from the bed and setting them on the large decorative chest at the end.


Sitting on the bed near Geralt, with one leg hanging down Eskel reaches out to touch Geralt’s face, cradling it in one hand. “Still wanna do this?”

Geralt turns his head in to kiss Eskel’s palm and smiles. “Please.”

“Alright if thas’ what you want.” Eskel shoves hard in the middle of Geralt’s chest sending him over onto his back, legs coming uncrossed, as confusion crosses his face. It’s quick, and Eskel straddles Geralt’s hips before he really registers what has just happened. Already pinning one of Geralt’s arms above his head Eskel leans over him for an aggressive and exploratory kiss. Forcing his tongue into Geralt’s mouth and swallowing the desperate sound it knocks loose.


Geralt’s hips thrust up against Eskel, and Eskel lets him, rolling the leather back at him. Its good, pressure and heat. Eskel runs his fingernails down one side of Geralt’s chest—none to gently—leaving a trail of red marks in his wake. The sound Geralt makes at that is fucking beautiful, sweet and pained all rolled into one. Eskel draws his thumbnail back up and drags it over Geralt’s peaked nipple, revels in the shuddering of Geralt’s body underneath him. Hand creeping up from there it settles on Geralt’s neck. Soft, no strength in his grip at all yet.

Eyes watching Geralt carefully, Eskel draws Geralt’s other hand down and rests it on his forearm. Kissing him for a long time Eskel lets Geralt get used to the feel of his hand around his neck. It seems incredibly possessive to Eskel and that is frighteningly arousing. His cock pulses in his leathers, leaking at the images it conjures. Kissing Geralt calms Eskel down as well and he needs to be calm to do this, so he allows himself to linger with Geralt’s mouth as long as he needs.


When Eskel raises up again Geralt is pliant underneath him. Face placid and body calm. Eskel rakes the nails of his other hand down the side of Geralt’s chest, and Geralt groans deeply. Inhaling sharply when Eskel draws his thumbnail back up to pinch and play with his nipple. As soon as he inhales that lungful of air Eskel squeezes his hand tight on Geralt’s throat, gut flipping over with arousal and that small bit of fear still.

Geralt’s eyes stare back at him wide with shock, the black swallowing the gold from arousal, but he doesn’t struggle. His hand holds just above Eskel’s wrist with a light pressure. Everything is good. Geralt’s heart beat overtakes Eskel’s own in his ears, loud and clear, fast and picking up speed. Counting his own breaths, Eskel fights the desire to just let go. Then there is a gentle tap at his wrist and relief washes over him as he loosens his grip and watches Geralt’s chest lower and rise once more. Straining to pull air back into his deprived lungs.


“So amazing.” Geralt’s voice is hoarse, like he walked through a cloud of poisoned gas. The look on his face is euphoric though, and Eskel has to kiss him. When he does he feels the wetness on Geralt’s belly smearing on his own. Geralt is leaking all over himself. Eskel grins lopsidedly and chuckles at how aroused by this Geralt is. Admittedly it is turning him on more than he would have expected too, but Geralt is gone with it.

The next time Eskel squeezes, Geralt’s thumb rubs the underside of his arm, mouth stuck open in soundless ‘O’ as Eskel teases his cock with his other hand. It’s only a few of Eskel’s breaths this time before Geralt is tapping his wrist. The third time Geralt makes it slightly longer before gently tapping at Eskel’s wrist, maybe five breaths. Eskel lets go only to hear Geralt cry out brokenly as his comes all over his stomach.


Still hard in his pants Eskel crouches over Geralt as he pants through the intensity of his orgasm. He’d love to get off but not right now. This evening was never about him. Arms on either side of Geralt’s head Eskel lowers his face and very softly kisses Geralt’s neck. First on one side and then the other, over the fingerprints he’s left there. More marks of ownership Geralt will wear proudly for a day.

Geralt’s gulping breaths slow to whines, and his hands start to fiddle with Eskel’s leathers. “No, not now. Later.” There is a sigh, but Geralt’s hands still, holding onto Eskel’s sides instead, allowing Eskel to continue his gently exploring Geralt’s neck with his lips.


When he is done Eskel goes the the vanity and fills the basin from the pitcher. His fingers swish the water with Igni heating it up, dipping a cloth in it and ringing it out. Returning to the bed he washes Geralt’s neck as delicately as he can, then cleans Geralt’s abdomen and cock. The cloth gets tossed on the bedside table and Eskel peels off his leathers, leaving only his braies.

Scooping Geralt up, Eskel pulls him against himself and Geralt wraps his arms and legs around Eskel. Holding onto him with one hand Eskel flips the covers back with the other and turns to sit on the bed. Scooting his back up to the headboard Eskel leans back and lets Geralt melt against him, runs his hands over Geralt’s back humming to him. He doesn’t say a word and doesn’t expect any in return yet. It will be a long time yet before Geralt is ready to talk. The blankets get pulled up around Geralt’s waist and Eskel listens to him breathing, steady and peaceful. It isn’t long before that breathing is sound and sleeping.

Chapter Text

On all fours, with his head bent down to his elbows and his ass in the air, Geralt moaned underneath Eskel shuddering with every thrust of Eskel’s hips. Gods, it was good. The slick silky glide of the oil and Geralt’s body hugging him, pulling him deeper each time. Putting a hand low on Geralt’s back Eskel changed angles and plunged back in. Rubbing the head of his cock over Geralt’ sweet spot with every pass now.

“Oh Fuck, Eskel.” Geralt cried out after several moments, “Please, I’m gonna come.”

“No.” Eskel punched his hips forward once more, rocking his cock into that spot before adjusting again to give Geralt a reprieve. “You’ll wait for me.” Rhythm unchanging, but no longer torturing Geralt’s prostate, Eskel reached around and cupped Geralt’s balls. Lightly he let his fingernails scratch the skin there very gently.

“Es-” A cut off cry from Geralt and his ass twitching hard around Eskel’s cock was all the warning Eskel got. Geralt’s balls drew up in his hand and his cock jerked against Eskel’s forearm as Geralt came undone below him.

Eskel was stunned for only a moment before the cold desire to correct this misbehavior kicked in. “Did you just come?” Eskel started his rhythm right back up making sure the angle put his cock in contact with Geralt’s prostate.

“Ugh, fuck.” Geralt slumped against the bed as much as he could but Eskel’s hand around him, still holding his balls prevented him from escaping too much. “Yes.” The last word was quiet, but Eskel heard it loud and clear anyway.

“After I tol’ you no?” Wanting to hear Geralt admit it made Eskel feel bossy and possessive in a whole different way. You disobeyed me.

“I’m sorry,” it was a weak and watery voice that answered but Eskel didn’t let it fool him. Geralt had plenty of stamina. He could wait, he had waited before, plenty of times.

“Not as sorry as you will be.” The tremor that ran over Geralt’s body even as Eskel kept thrusting into him, made Eskel smile to himself. Reaching down to the bed Eskel wiped up a fingerful of Geralt’s cum, now cooling. “Turn your head to the side. Open.” Eskel grinned at Geralt, and smeared the cum on his tongue. Watched as he closed his eyes and mouth, swallowing it. “Does it taste good?” Geralt didn’t answer and Eskel didn’t push it. He didn’t really enjoy humiliating his partner, but it had been too good to pass up right then. He did love playing with both Geralt’s cum and his own after all.

Finding the oil where he had set it next to his leg on the bed, Eskel uncorked it and spilled some on his hand. Closing it again he set it aside and reached back around Geralt’s hips to grab his softening cock. Geralt startled and tried to jerk away at his touch, but Eskel’s other hand held his hips firm. Working his fingers around Geralt’s shaft Eskel slowed his own hips. Took his time, enjoying the feel of Geralt’s semi-soft cock in between his fingers. It slipped around easily and he ran his thumb over the head listening to Geralt whimper, and cry. The way Geralt struggled against his grip and in his hold was intoxicating.

“No. You’re gonna feel this. ‘Til you get hard again. Then you’re gonna ask me proper, an’ if I say no you will wait, ‘til I say yes.” Eskel bent over and licked the salty sweat from Geralt’s neck. Voice low and possessive he whispered to Geralt, “’Cause you’re mine, an’ I get to decide for you.”

Geralt groaned hard at that, and his struggles stopped for a moment until Eskel’s thumb played over his head for a little too long and he started to pant from it all. “Please, I’m sensitive and it hurts Eskel.”

“I know.” Eskel rolled Geralt’s balls in his hand, scratched at them very lightly again, drawing a gasp from Geralt. “Was it worth it?”

“No.” The answer was fast, and honest. It made Eskel smile to himself again.

Eskel’s own cocked throbbed and ached inside Geralt’s ass, but he held himself back. Stroking Geralt firmly while steadily rocking into him, rubbing over his prostate again and again, eventually brought Geralt’s cock back to life. It wasn't fast, and it didn't bother Eskel that it took time. Listening to the whimper and moan of his lover the whole time almost made Eskel lose it himself, but he concentrated on his breathing, on the way it would feel to make Geralt ask again, to make Geralt wait and do this right.

“Please Eskel, I need to come,” Geralt sounded desperate, and his cock was hard and leaking in Eskel’s hand.

“No, you will wait for me.” Taking his hand away from Geralt’s cock, Eskel settled it on Geralt’s hip mirroring his other hand and began to thrust into Geralt in earnest again. Seeking his own release in the slick heat there. Punching his hips forward to meet Geralt’s ass in brutal thrusts it wasn’t long before Eskel’s vision was whiting out at the edges, balls rising up and cock filling Geralt with his cum.

After a moment of stillness Eskel grunted through his pleasure to grind his cock into Geralt’s ass. “Now you can come for me. Go ahead, touch yourself.” Pressing his cock deep inside while Geralt worked his hand quickly underneath himself, Eskel stared down at the sight before him. Geralt stroking himself fervently to pleasure himself on Eskel’s orders, wanting nothing so much as to come around Eskel’s cock for the second time that night. Gods it was heady, to be in so much control, and he loved Geralt for giving it to him. Geralt could easily have stopped him at any moment. Said Novigrad ending it all, and Eskel was forever in awe of how much he could take that Geralt would willingly hand him.

The groan Geralt let loose as he came again onto the bed almost sounded painful, and Eskel wondered if his cock was sore from being played with for so long. He’d have to offer Geralt a bath in a little bit. Bring him some food and a mug of cider. Maybe sit outside the tub feeding Geralt while he washed his hair for him.

Rolling Geralt away from the wet spot Eskel wrapped his arms and legs around Geralt, kissing his jaw softly, “So good for me.”

Geralt’s nodded his head groggily, “Mhmm, tried to be.”

Eskel rubbed his face against Geralt’s hair, “You are. Always perfect for me. Rest? Then bath?”

Hand reaching up to grab at Eskel’s own Geralt barely nodded his head, already falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Sometimes when Geralt came to Eskel it was because he felt needy, and wanted to be used. Other times it was because he felt this unbearable tension that simply wouldn’t let loose and only Eskel could break it. Still others it was because he wanted to thank Eskel for everything he did for him, to please him and obey him. And Geralt wouldn’t deny that many occasions where simply purely about sex and fun, enjoyment to be had by both.

This evening though Geralt didn’t really know what he needed, he wasn’t feeling settled, and hadn’t been for a few days. He’d taken a contract, and he’d done well, the pesta ravaging the trading post past Coronata Vineyard was gone, but so were the majority of the traders. Dead to vile plagues, bodies half rotted and gnawed on by the local wildlife. Maybe he shouldn’t have retired. Not that it would have changed much, if he wasn’t retired he would be on the Path not sitting in Toussaint awaiting each and every terror that could come up. Witchers worked , and they traveled to where the work was. They did not wait around waiting for the work to happen.

So Geralt approached Eskel and asked if they could play around tonight. He wanted something a little rougher, a little more intense than that amazing sex that they could have again and again. Not that he didn’t love that too, but he felt like he needed more. Eskel looked him over and watched him silently for a while before agreeing.

After dinner Eskel ordered the tub filled and once that was complete he informed Geralt that he was to go in their room. Get naked and sit cross legged on the bed waiting for him. This was almost always how Eskel started and Geralt was calmed by the use of the same rituals over time. So he went easily and quickly to their room, stripping and piling his clothes on the dressing, stacking his swords on top. Boots in the corner, medallion in the silver wolf bowl just for Eskel—because Geralt trusted him so much he didn’t need it right now. Eskel always wore his medallion while they did these things and that was enough, he’d watch out for both of them. Geralt crawled onto the bed and sat down in his position. Closing his eyes and breathing deep he waited for Eskel to knock.

When the soft knock came and Eskel entered, Geralt didn’t need to open his eyes. He could hear Eskel moving about the room and feel the bed dip behind him, his heart picking up speed. Hands in his hair and his ponytail was loosened and freed. Eskel’s strong fingers were combing through his hair, spreading it around his shoulders.

“Want you to go get in the tub for me. No touching yourself.” Eskel voice was deep, but not unkind. And Geralt was instantly ready to follow his orders.


The tub was steaming hot. The water lapped at Geralt’s chest as he relaxed into it, arms stretched along the rim on either side of him. Eskel was urging him forward and he complied, slow to realize that Eskel was joining him in the tub. “What are yo-”

Geralt was cut off by Eskel pulling his back flush to Eskel’s chest and a hand under his chin closing his mouth, tipping his head back to make eye contact. “’S not for you to question.”

Geralt let out a rough breath through his nose. Slightly he tried to nod his head against Eskel’s hold, and he was released. Remaining quiet he let Eskel manipulate his body, until he was resting back against Eskel’s chest, head tucked under Eskel’s chin. It was comfortable and warm. Geralt wanted to drift off to sleep, but he was careful not to, never sure where this was leading.

Soaping up a cloth, Eskel washed his body for him- arms, chest, hips, thighs, and groin which was growing interested. Then Geralt felt his face lathered with Eskel’s juniper shave soap, so silky and smooth. Head tilted back against Eskel’s shoulder Geralt softened into it, allowing Eskel to draw the straight razor across his skin and leave him smooth. It felt good to be taken care of. Eskel rinsed his face and spent a long time kissing Geralt’s mouth before helping him out of the tub. Taking the time to dry every inch of Geralt’s body with a towel. Geralt felt pretty lightheaded and mellow by the time Eskel was done with that.

“Go lie on the bed, face down.” Geralt walked to the bed in a haze, warm and fuzzy. Laying down he turned his head to the side so he could breath easily but he let his eyes fall closed. He didn’t want to see whatever Eskel had prepared for him.

A kiss to the sole of his foot was not what he expect and Geralt almost jerked away at the sensation of Eskel’s scared lip against the tough skin of his foot but Eskel’s hand held his foot firm. Then another, and a third on his heel. Geralt chewed his lip, this was new. Very new. It was odd, but not unpleasant. Eskel’s lips worked there way up his calf, slow and methodical, covering every inch with kisses. The back of his knee, it almost tickled but not quite, and Geralt drew in a sharp breath.

Eskel stopped just short of the low curve of Geralt’s ass and then started the entire process again with his other foot. Geralt completely lost track of how much time Eskel spent kissing his way up his legs and was feeling slightly giddy when Eskel’s lips reached his ass a second time. This times Eskel kept going, kissing every inch of Geralt’s butt reverently, working up the small of his back, lips crawling slowly up his spine. Out over his shoulder blades and down his arms. Smooth lips over skin covered in scars as if it were nothing but perfect and by the time Eskel worked his hands underneath Geralt to turn him over, Geralt was breathless and hard.

Starting at Geralt’s feet again Eskel massaged his way up from toes to hips, avoiding Geralt’s hard cock. Stroking soft fingertips over Geralt’s abdomen and nipples, out over his arms and back in, gentle circles worked around his nipples. “Gods, you’re beautiful. An’ I love you.” Eskel bent to draw a nipple into his mouth, still gentle, sucking at it softly. “You’re a good man. An’ you’re good for me.” Eskel switched to the other nipple, sucking this one softly as well, lapping his tongue over it. Kissing up Geralt’s neck towards his ear, and Geralt was starting to feel overwhelmed.

Why was Eskel saying these things right now. He hadn’t even done anything or pleased Eskel or taken anything particularly painful from him tonight. Pressure was building behind Geralt’s eyes and he held them closed tightly against the feeling.

“Can you let go for me?” Eskel was whispering softly in his ear and Geralt was confused. The tension in his head was pushing at his eyes harder.

“Wha- what do you mean? Let go of what?” Eskel hadn’t touched his cock, Geralt didn’t feel close to coming.

Eskel kissed lightly over his eyelids. “Let this go.”

Geralt inhaled roughly, he felt like he was going to cry and he didn’t know why. Eskel’s hands were roaming over him, caressing every inch of him softly. Roughness and pain, that’s what Geralt had thought he wanted tonight but this felt so good, so loving. So perfect, and hearing Eskel tell him again and again that he loved him, whispering it right into his ear, while he rubbed at Geralt’s skin was just too much. Overcome with emotions Geralt felt tears rolling down his face. He tried to suck in a heaving breath but Eskel covered his mouth with his own, thumb rubbing into Geralt’s nipple slightly harder as Eskel lowered his body onto Geralt.

Breathing through his nose Geralt cried quietly under Eskel, their hips meeting and grinding together to create a slow rhythm. Everything was warm and every thought was foggy. Eskel’s hand toying with his nipple and his lips sliding around on Geralt’s, hot cock slick with precum bumping up alongside Geralt’s.

“Tha’s it ‘m here. I love you.” Eskel’s hand left his nipple to circle their cocks together and Geralt whimpered loudly against his mouth.

“I- Thank you.” Not even able to think straight, Geralt wanted to say he loved Eskel too. But the words weren’t coming out quite right. Eskel knew though, he was sure. The pressure behind his eyes was easing, the tears were slowing, and the heat in his gut was rising up. Curling higher and higher in his chest. Making his skin tingle and Geralt knew, that it wouldn't be long before Eskel got him there.

“You’re welcome. You’re always welcome with me.” Eskel shushed him and Geralt hadn’t even realized how loud he’d been keening. He thrust erratically into Eskel’s hand.

“Eskel I’m-” Geralt choked on a breath of air, afraid of what was going to happen before he could finish the question.

“Shh, you don’t need my permission tonight.” That sentence from Eskel was all the permission Geralt’s mind needed to let his body go. He spilled warm and wet over Eskel’s cock and hand, up their stomachs.

Geralt felt completely drained. Face feeling puffy, and warm. Eyes aching dully. But he did feel better, more settled, less off kilter. Eskel moved him carefully, arranging him in the bed and bringing the cover up to his thighs. A wet cloth cleaned his face first and then his belly and cock. The blankets were pulled up to his chest then and the room went dark when a cool wet cloth was laid over his eyes.

The bed dipped again, and Geralt felt Eskel slide into the bed beside him, still half hard cock pressing against his hip. He wished he could do something about that but he knew from experience there was no way Eskel would allow him to right now. A warm arm laid over Geralt’s chest and a low voice whispered in his ear, breath moist. “You know its alright to need to let go and feel emotions. They made it hard for us, but you can still cry if you need to. I’ll always be here for you.”

Geralt tried hard to think through his haze and the desire to sleep that was trying to pull him under. Knowing that Eskel really didn’t expect an answer because it hadn’t been a question as much as a statement. Finally, he was able to pull up from under the fog in his brain long enough to explain as best as he could. “I don’t think I knew I needed to.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t the first time Eskel had told him no. Or even the second. Geralt had long since lost count of the number times he had begged Eskel to let him come. Frustration had completely overwhelmed him and tears streamed down his face but Eskel kissed them away. Licking his skin, rough voice washing over Geralt in waves, telling how good he was doing, but then the torture would start all over again. Eskel’s sword-calloused hand would bring Geralt right to the edge, holding him there expertly before leaving him hanging. Almost literally.

Hands threaded with rope and tied together behind his shoulders, Geralt had one elbow pointing downward and the other up to the large branch above him. Ropes bound each arm tightly against itself, and his hands to the ropes around his chest. Another rope helped Geralt stay balanced—strung from his back over the branch and down to the ropes surrounding his upper elbow. His weight wasn’t on the branch but it would catch him if his legs failed him, or if he leaned to far in any direction. In the beginning Geralt hadn’t thought he would need the support but know he felt as though he wanted to let his weight sag against the branch forever.

It had never been like this before. Every other time Eskel told Geralt no, it was only until Eskel came; or he would deny Geralt to hear him beg a few more times then relent. If he was feeling particularly bossy he might outright deny Geralt completely, seeking only his own pleasure, leaving Geralt struggling to calm down. But even then he was always careful to help Geralt through it, talking him down, providing comfort and reassurance. This was different. Not only was Eskel denying Geralt permission to come, he was actively trying to wring it out of him at the same time. Geralt wanted to cry. Cried until he was dry. He screamed into the empty forest around him, begging hoarsely only to be told no again, to feel Eskel’s fingers circling around his sac tightly cutting off his orgasm, pulling it away from him once more.

Geralt was barely coherent when slick fingers found his furl. It was tight from being away from Eskel, no one had touched him there in the months since they had last been together. Shivering in the night air, Geralt breathed through the teasing touches when Eskel stroked him there. Getting Geralt ready, rubbing his fingers over and inside of him, stretching him out. Geralt cried out when Eskel intentionally prodded his prostate, making his cock drip onto the ground helplessly.

Done begging to come, Geralt begged instead for Eskel to stop. “Please, please, no more.”

There was the briefest of pauses before Eskel continued, fingers persistently kneading Geralt’s sweet spot. “If you need me to stop you know how.” Eskel’s lips slid over the skin of Geralt’s one shoulder bare of rope, a wet open-mouthed kiss there followed by a bite that almost felt like it could bruise, but not quite. Kisses trailed up Geralt’s neck. “But I think you can take this for me.”

The words worked there way into Geralt’s mind slowly. He did know how to stop this; but did he really need to? Eskel had never done something like this to him before—pushed him so hard the intensity was almost unbearable—which made the boundary harder to discern. Trying to process it was so difficult, especially with Eskel’s fingers still working in his ass, but Geralt didn’t feel unsafe. Eskel wasn’t hurting him, at least not in anyway he didn’t enjoy; and he was sure somehow that Eskel was watching out for him.

A moan slid free from Geralt’s throat at a particularly good touch. “Please, Eskel. No more. I can’t.” The stretch strengthened in Geralt’s ass as the head of Eskel’s cock forced its way in. “Oh fuck…. Please.” There was a high whining noise echoing through the oak trees, and Eskel was gripping Geralt’s balls a little past too hard. Tugging them down and away, fucking into Geralt with a slowness born of years of patience Geralt hated right now.

Head falling forward Geralt took it. Floating and listening to the keening in the trees that he couldn’t place, Geralt only felt the girth of Eskel filling him out. Eskel’ hands seeking out his nipples to pinch and pull. The whoosh of blood pounding in his ears mixed with the keening noise, which he realized vaguely might have been vibrating out from his throat. In a perfect rhythm Eskel moved in and out of his ass, slick and hot—thick. The head of his cock teasing Geralt’s prostate with every pass but Eskel holding his balls tight, pulling them down, hurt enough to curb Geralt’s ability to come. He didn’t need to be told no anymore, the desire was gone even though his cock was still hard.

Eskel’s rough voice in his ear carried him along. “This is for me. I love seein’ you like this, beggin’ to come an’ lettin’ me deny you. Fuck its gorgeous. Lettin’ me control everythin’ about you, like I own yo-” Eskel shoved hard into Geralt, hand squeezing his balls roughly, cock pulsing inside him. Crying out Geralt’s who body felt raw, and the pain in his balls surged when they tried to draw up against his body but where unable to in Eskel’s harsh grip. Somewhere Geralt found a few more tears and they rolled down his cheeks.


The bedroll was softer than normal and Geralt wondered if there was an extra blanket tucked inside. The thought didn’t last long before he was burrowed in deep, shivering against the sudden chill though. Eskel’s arms kept him warm, and Eskel’s words kept him calm. Geralt had no idea what Eskel was saying, just the soothing noise of his voice came through and that was enough. It seemed very bright for nighttime. There was a raging fire built close the bedroll, Geralt realized, that must be why it seemed like day outside. He closed his eyes, and turned over to hide his face in Eskel’s chest. Sleep. That would help him not be so exhausted and he couldn’t do that with the light in his eyes. And Gods was he exhausted.

Eskel had never let him come. It dawned on Geralt as he was drifting off that, his body was exhausted but his cock was not, and this was why. It seemed unfair but he was so tired he couldn’t even say a word to argue the point. He didn’t even remember Eskel taking the ropes off or getting to the bedroll for that matter. Later, maybe he would talk to Eskel about it then. Sleep was pulling him under now.




The sun beat red against the back of Geralt’s eyelids and his balls ached, but in a pleasant way. They felt warm. Warmer and wetter than they should, and it eased the pain from last night. Geralt sighed and let his knees fall open. Whatever dream this was it wasn’t one he wanted to end just yet. He wasn’t ready to be awake and deal with the real ache that would surely settle in from Eskel’s rough handling the night before.

Geralt’s own startled moan broke the spell when the warm wet slipped away and Geralt’s balls popped free into the cool morning air, drawing up against his body instinctively seeking heat again. Opening his eyes and looking down he found Eskel staring back up at him as he licked a wide stripe up the length of Geralt’s cock, sac to tip along the thick vein on the underside. “This is for you. ‘Cause you took everything I gave you last night.” Eskel swallowed his cock to the root and Geralt’s head fell back to the bedroll.

“Fuck me.” Inhaling sharply Geralt tried to slow the fast approach of his undoing.

Eskel sucked up to the tip licking there, “I can do that when I am done if you want to come again.” Licking the length of Geralt’s cock again Eskel smiled at him. “Today is for you. You can come when you want, where you want, as much as you want. In my mouth, on me, with me in you.” That lopsided smirk swallowed his cock again and Geralt gasped. Fuck. Alright, last night had been fair then, if this was his reward.

Chapter Text

The house was quiet, B.B. and Marlene having walked down to their own smaller homes on the vineyard property some time ago. Eskel was relaxing in the spare room upstairs, crossed feet up on a stool in front of him while he read one of Geralt’s books. A Guide to Beauclairoise Hidden Elven Roots, not exactly what Eskel would call an accurate accounting of the local population’s ancestry; but there was often a grain of truth in the grapevine of gossip. No one gossiped better than the Toussaintoise.

Soft footsteps padded up the stairs and Geralt came around the corner. “Hey.” Lifting Eskel’s arm up, taking the book away with it, Geralt ducked under and swiveled elegantly to drop into Eskel’s lap. “What are you reading?”

Lowering his arm back down Eskel turned the book around to show the cover to Geralt, his other arm wound itself around Geralt’s lithe waist. Burying his nose against Geralt’s neck Eskel inhaled, the smell of leather and blade oil soothing him deeply. Eskel rubbed his face against the stubble of Geralt’s undercut, kissing the back of his skull under his ponytail. “What ‘bout you. What’er you doin’?” Closing the book Eskel set it aside on the small table near his chair.

Geralt turned in his arms, putting one hand on the back of the chair on either side of Eskel’s shoulders. Laying his forehead against Eskel’s and biting his lip Geralt, spoke quiet but with a surprising assertiveness, “Thinking.”

The good corner of Eskel’s mouth quirked up, he liked this mood from Geralt. “Oh yeah? Whatcha been thinkin’ about?”

One of Geralt’s hands came forward to touch gently at Eskel’s scarred face, Eskel sighed, letting out a heavy breath and leaning his face into the touch. It felt so good when Geralt settled his warm hand over that raggedly torn flesh—never fully healed on the inside—with no hesitation or revulsion, only love in his touch.

Geralt’s thumb traced one jagged line below Eskel’s eye. “About you, and how much you make me happy. I want to give you something like that.”

Unable to keep the smile inside any longer Eskel’s lips pulled up on both sides, crinkling the silky scarred skin under Geralt’s hand. “You always make me happy, Geralt. Always.”

“I know-” there was a brief pause while Geralt searched for the right explanation, “-I want to do something different though. I want to give you the same kind of pleasure you give me.” A much longer pause this time before Geralt barreled forward. “I know I can’t take you the way you do me, even though you wish I could.” Eskel’s skin prickled, goosebumps rising at those words. Geralt didn’t know how right he was, how badly Eskel wanted to feel Geralt push into him and take him willingly, even just once. “But I want to take you to bed and show you how you make me feel in the ways that I can.”

Eskel didn’t need to know what Geralt thought he could do, he wanted it, all of it. Geralt wouldn’t—couldn’t—just fuck him, and Eskel was all to aware that their shared prior experiences had led to that situation. So anything, and everything that Geralt wanted to offer him without reservations made Eskel’s blood sing, and his heart jump in his chest.

Geralt tipped his lips forward kissing Eskel. Slow and exploratory, tongue sliding between Eskel’s lips and licking at his teeth until Eskel opened for him. Moaning almost inaudibly at the intimacy of it Eskel’s hands squeezed Geralt’s hip and waist where they rested. With every moan Eskel opened his mouth further and Geralt pressed his advantage, plundering what he’d won.

When Geralt finally pulled away and removed himself from Eskel’s lap, Eskel was panting softly, and fully aroused. Geralt held out his hand and Eskel took it. Follow him up out of the chair and then letting Geralt lead him down around the stairs to their room, through the door. Standing there in the middle of their room Eskel felt dazed, and it was only shaken by the scrape of the wooden door being swung closed and the easy thunk of the wooden lock falling into place.

Lopsided smile playing at his lips, Eskel turned back to face Geralt where he was returning from the door. Arms open and welcome Eskel let them rest on Geralt’s shoulders, wrapping behind his neck as Geralt stepped right into his space. It was easy sometimes not to notice the height difference. Geralt was only slightly taller then him but when he put his arms up around Geralt’s neck like this it accentuated it, making Eskel feel like Geralt was looking down on him.

One hand settled on Eskel’s waist and the other slowly slid lower to cup the cheek of his ass through his leathers. Biting the inside of his lip to keep quiet Eskel turned his head and laid it against Geralt’s shoulder, eyes closing, lashes brushing along Geralt’s neck. The hand on his ass squeezed lightly and Eskel suppressed a moan. This was going to be too good, if Geralt was going to play at that. He never more than lightly brushed over Eskel’s entrance with his finger, no matter how much encouragement Eskel gave, or how wild he went when Geralt conceded those brief touches.

The hand at his waist delved under his tunic, pulling it up and running along the muscles of his back. Eskel let his shirt be drawn over his head and Geralt kissed him again. Walking Eskel slowly backwards until the backs of his knees bumped into the bed, forcing him to sit. “Watch me?” The question in Geralt’s voice was palpable and Eskel nodded in answer.

Eyes never straying Eskel watched as Geralt backed up and made a show of slowly undressing himself. When his tunic was off Geralt teased his own nipples, pinching and pulling at them, and Eskel could distinctly hear Geralt’s breath pick up speed as he worked himself up further. Boots were kicked to the corner and Geralt’s hand slowly slid over the bulge in the front of his leathers. The sound he made as he rubbed himself through his leathers was thin and desperate, sending a jolt of desire straight to Eskel’s cock. Rolling his hips into his own hand for several seconds Geralt stared Eskel down before taking his time undoing the laces of his leathers, shimmying them down his hips to reveal, soft yellow cotton braies the color of faded sunflowers.

Light on his feet Geralt strutted back over to Eskel, pausing only to set oil on the night stand for later. Putting one hand on each of Eskel’s knees Geralt pushed Eskel’s legs wide open and knelt in between them on the floor. Cupping the front of Eskel’s leathers like he had his own Geralt rubbed the palm of his hand over the hardness there. Dry lips brushed over Eskel’s flat and brown nipple, teasing it to attention before a hot tongue rasped over it. Teeth nipped at him and a shocked gasp dragged its way into Eskel’s lungs, his hand immediately clutching at the back of Geralt’s head.

“Sweet Melitele,” fingers above and below Geralt’s ponytail, Eskel worried his thumb softly in Geralt’s hair. “Tha’s good.”

Geralt moved his mouth to Eskel’s other nipple and he moaned open mouthed before he caught himself, slamming his mouth shut. Sucking his lips into his own mouth and pursing them, Eskel bit them together between his teeth to stay quiet while Geralt worked his nipple over. Hot mouth, tongue and teeth, teasing, sucking, and pulling at his body. Then a hand was dipping inside his leathers holding him tight through his braies, and his chest might have rumbled at the touch. Geralt had distracted him so much with his mouth Eskel hadn’t noticed him working open the laces of his leathers.

An easy hand on his bare chest pushed him backwards and Eskel let himself fall. No need to fight this. Geralt’s hands worked to pull down his leathers, taking his braies with them. Soon Eskel was laying back on the bed naked, stiff cock standing proudly up in the air, feet still planted on the floor with his leathers, braies and boots pooled at them while Geralt worked to remove it all.

It wasn’t long before Geralt had succeeded and was kissing his way back up between Eskel’s thighs, nuzzling his face into the crook between Eskel’s leg and balls. Licking and sucking softly at the skin there, making Eskel draw his knee up on the bed to offer Geralt better access because it felt too good not to. Resting a hand on the crown of Geralt’s head Eskel closed his eyes and focused only on the feeling of Geralt’s mouth, moist and hot against his skin. It worked at the join of his hip and groin, traveled up to his cock, softly sucking at the vein on the underside, all the way up to the tip. Heat engulfed the head of his cock briefly before moving down again. It engulfed first one ball, tenderly drawing it inside the inferno of Geralt’s mouth, rolling it over his tongue. The heat tugged gently at it when Geralt swallowed around him, trying to draw his ball deeper. Then the coolness tingled the skin there when Geralt’s mouth left to welcome his other ball inside, licking and sucking at it as well.

“Turn over and lay down in the middle of the bed for me please?” Geralt’s smooth voice cut through Eskel’s pleasurable haze. Complying was a bit more work than Eskel was used to, his limb felt heavy from the amazing treatment Geralt had just given him. Slowly though, Eskel rolled and crawled up the bed, collapsing there with his head turned to the side and resting on his arms.

Eskel could feel the soft cotton of Geralt’s braies on his ass, the hardness pressing against him through it and Eskel wanted it so bad his groin ached with the desire. Resisting the urge to lift his hips and push his ass up into Geralt’s cock took all of the concentration Eskel could muster. He would not push Geralt on this. Geralt’s legs were squirming their way in between his, and Eskel opened them to make room for Geralt’s hips to settle between his spread thighs. Stifling a rough moan against his own arm as Geralt’s cloth covered cock slid down along the crack of his ass while he situated himself.

Sucking at his own skin on his forearm Eskel tried to slow his breathing, to control himself. Geralt was placing soft kisses down the ridges of muscle that lined both sides of his spine and Eskel let himself sink into it. This was something Geralt could do for him. Leaving his mouth open, warm breath on wet skin, Eskel focused on Geralt’s mouth again. Slowly it trailed down his back, Geralt’s hands making dents in the bed on either side of Eskel, holding himself up so his weight only rested over Eskel’s ass and the bed between his legs.

A particularly long and soft kiss lingered at the top of Eskel’s tailbone, and he allowed himself to hum his approval. It seemed like the perfect way to end this moment, letting Geralt know he appreciated the efforts he’d gone to to make him feel relaxed and pleasured. Feeling the weight on the bed shift, one of Geralt’s hands gripping the meat of Eskel’s ass kneading it firmly and Eskel’s hum dropped a register. The other hand followed suit, and Geralt was massaging his ass, digging firmly into the muscle with his hands. Eskel drank it it, the pressure was amazing, Geralt’s hands were strong and capable.

But them Geralt’s thumbs ran perilously close to Eskel’s crack sinking in there, pressing and pulling him open wide. Holding him open while Geralt’s hands stilled. And Eskel’s brain just stopped. Like running into a stone wall. He couldn’t focus on Geralt’s breath or heart beat over the rushing of his own heart beat as it slammed in his ears. Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room, no matter how fast his lungs tried to suck it down, he just couldn’t comprehend what was going on.

Geralt was behind him still as a tall pine in the forest, and Eskel was sure he was looking at his ass spread open wide, otherwise why would he have done it? Feeling his furl clench reflexively at the cool air and invasive stare, Eskel’s face felt hot. Geralt didn’t owe him this, “You do-”

Every train of thought Eskel had derailed the moment warm breath skittered over his exposed entrance. Dry lips seal themselves over his furl and a hot tongue darted out tentatively to lick at the tight tender skin there. Eskel cried out unable to stop himself, “OH FUCK! Geralt, please!”

Geralt’s hands resettled themselves pulling Eskel back open wide and his mouth closed over Eskel’s tight furl again, tongue exploring the skin there with less hesitation. Eskel whined into his arms and tried to find Geralt’s heart beat past his own. It took a lot of concentration but he managed to find it, strong and steady, not frightened. Hearing that Eskel let himself fall into the pleasure of this, of Geralt’s tongue wetting him and touching him in such an intimate way. In a place he craved for Geralt to touch him and explore.

The noises coming unwillingly from Eskel must have provided Geralt with the encouragement he needed because his mouth was gaining gusto and with every flat stroke of his tongue Eskel felt himself getting closer to the edge. He didn’t expect Geralt to point his tongue and prod at his hole. Pushing inside and creating a pantomime of fucking with his tongue instead of his cock. Eskel felt lost, wanton and open. Geralt was tearing him apart, piece by piece.

He was delirious by the time Geralt pulled away, flipping him over and taking the oil from the bedside table. Already close to coming, if Geralt oiled himself up and slid down on him now, Eskel would come and he knew it. Eskel lay there open legged ready for whatever Geralt wanted to take from him anyway, letting his eyes slide closed.

“I want you to watch me do this.” Eskel opened his eyes back up and looked down at Geralt between his legs again. That was the first real statement Geralt had made. No question in his voice at all, and Eskel would be damned if he was going to let Geralt down now. Stuffing a pillow behind his head Eskel struggled to keep his eyes open and tracking Geralt’s face as he swallowed Eskel’s cock down. Tender pucker tingling with arousal from Geralt’s tongue it clenched and twitched as Geralt worked Eskel’s cock in his mouth for a moment.

Gold eyes with blown black pupils stared back at Eskel from Geralt’s face, confident and loving. Eskel felt a slick finger slipped behind his balls and Eskels own eyes widened, mouth falling open and finally letting out a broken moan when Geralt nudged that finger against his tender entrance. Pressing it just inside. Taking him.

The air slammed in and out of Eskel’s chest and his hips rocked up forcing his cock deeper into Geralt’s throat. Swallowing around him Geralt took it in stride and worked his finger in and out slowly. Eskel was shattered, unable to look away as Geralt sucked him down, and ever so slowly fucked that one finger in and out of his aching tender hole.

Eskel didn’t want to come, didn’t want this to end. Ever. His balls were rising up against his body and the icy heat was crawling down his thighs, though and he knew he was close. He wanted to cry because he wanted to keep this forever. When Geralt drew out and turned his fingers back in, two twisted together now, Eskel couldn’t stop himself.

“Oh Gods. ‘M gonna come. Please don’ stop.” Ass involuntarily clamping down on Geralt’s fingers Eskel rode out his euphoria in waves as it rolled through him. Shaking his body until he was exhausted.

When Geralt very gently removed his fingers Eskel whimpered. “Wish you could leave ‘em there for a while. That was so amazin’ you have no idea.”

“I do know. I know every time you do it to me.” Geralt crawled up to kiss Eskel on the forehead. “That was the whole point I wanted to show you.” Another kiss, soft on his temple, and a blanket pulled up over his shoulders. “I love you.”

Chapter Text

The contract had been large, too large for one witcher alone. That was how Geralt had ended up tracking down Eskel just north of Vizima. He knew Eskel made a habit of ending his fall Path there if he was anywhere near the area and that knowledge had paid off, for both of them. After dragging Eskel back south to Figg, and explaining the rather large issue of the influx of lesser vampires to the area all the way over to Hochebuz. They had put their heads together and decided to tackle the problem at its root. Clearly there was a greater cause to all this activity and if that could be dealt with then the lesser vampires would spread back out.

As close as the problem was to Cintra the reward was massive, gathered up from Figg, Hochebuz, and Cintrian authorities alike. So they scouted the area, located some worrisome underground tunnels, and eventually routed out the strange blood worshiping cultists that had made their home there. Never feed lesser vampires, it only discourages any fear of humans they have acquired and turns them into problem vampires who seek out human settlements looking for handouts of blood. Blood residing normally inside of humans. It took a little over a week after cleaning out the cultists to cull all the fleders, garkains, and ekimmaras from the surrounding areas until they stopped invading the towns at last.

Reward collected and split up, Geralt and Eskel packed up to head north for the winter. They were already going to be coming in later than Lambert, and Vesemir if he’d ventured out at all this fall. Geralt had to admit though that the thought of getting to enjoy Eskel’s company on the Path all the way home to Kaer Morhen far outweighed the pain of riding in the early fall snows.

There was time to talk and just be, as they rode side by side along the roads and barely there deer trails between towns. To share their stories from the summer. When they made camp at night, in between places with welcoming inns, it was easy as always. Geralt finding wood and Eskel sparking the fire to life with Igni on his fingers. Their purses were full from that last contract allowing them the luxury of good provisions for the ride. They could make stew and let it simmer while they laid tangled under the bedroll, hands all over each other, Eskel’s cock slipping gloriously along side his own until Geralt came.

The farther north they traveled the colder the wind blew, and the rains turned to snow. It was freezing as they approached the base of the Blue Mountains and Eskel hadn’t stopped bitching about it for a day. He almost sounded like Lambert.

“You know, ‘m startin’ to see Lambert’s point about it bein’ colder than a waterhag’s left tit out here all winter.” Eskel rubbed his gloved hands together and blew in them. They had stopped for a break, to pull some food from their bags, break the ice one a stream and let the horses drink. “’S cold an' I need to piss an’ I don’ even wanna ‘cause my cocks gonna freeze when I get it outta my leathers.”

Geralt could only laugh at that, “You’ve got me around to warm it back up for you.”

“Don’ tempt me.” Eskel wandered off downstream to relieve himself.

Fishing in his saddle bag Geralt pulled out a cured roll of bear sausage, cutting off a large hunk for each of them, the remains of a loaf of bread, and a tied cloth half full of dried dates. From the burlap sack tied to his saddle Geralt poured out several handfuls of dry sweet grain on a trampled area of snow for their horses before returning the bag  to its place. When Eskel came back Geralt was just sitting down under a low pine, ass on the cold but dry ground, to eat his lunch. He motioned for Eskel to join him and they shared the dry space, enjoying the sweetness of the last of the dates. It offset the fact that the bread was dry and Geralt felt like he ate bread at every meal, every day.

Crawling out of their dry spot Geralt set about getting Roach ready to ride again when Eskel’s saddle bags landed on his saddle with a small thwump. Next was Eskel’s bedroll, minus a wool blanket. “What are you doing?” Geralt turned to see Eskel unloading all of his extra packs from Scorpion, and onto Roach.

“You said I’ve got’ya to warm my cock back up. I’m takin’ advantage of that.” Eskel looked at Geralt with every ounce of seriousness in his eyes that his voice had held. “Might wanna get your leathers off. Keep your boots on though.”

Scorpion sat peacefully obedient as Eskel continued to rearrange his things, the wool blanket laying over the saddle. On the other hand, Roach’s head was turned to Geralt, giving him a reproachful look with every new item that was added to her saddle, as if to say, this is what you get for talking without thinking jackass .

Geralt stood dumbfound for a moment, before he heard Eskel talking to Scorpion. “I ‘spose spanking his ass would warm up my hand too, whaddya think boy?” The thought of getting spanked out in the open in the freezing cold spurred Geralt into motion. Quickly working down his leathers, he hissed as the frigid wind bit into his legs. “Braies too.” Eskel demanded, “can’t warm my cock up if your ass is covered.” Trying not to earn himself anything more humiliating, Geralt did as he was told, dropping his braies. Balancing on one foot while he removed his boot, Geralt slid everything over his other foot and replaced the boot to keep his foot dry before hopping onto that foot and doing it all over again. Eskel came up from behind, the slap of his cold leather-clad hand on Geralt’s ass startling him and distracting him from Eskel taking his clothes out of his hand. “You’re bein’ very good for me. Up on my horse.” Eskel squeezed Geralt’s ass hard. “Face backwards.”

Heart pounding in his chest, Geralt had to put actual thought into how to comply. How to put the wrong foot, backwards in the stirrup, and bend his knee to not kick Scorpion in the head. He definitely did not want the stallion running off with him half-assed naked being drug along. The chill of the leather saddle across Geralt’s balls when he settled onto to it made him sit up straight immediately with a quiet grunt. Balls retreating as far into him as they could to conserve what little warmth was left, and cock aching in the frigid wind.

The wool blanket was wrapped around Geralt’s hips wordlessly, covering his legs, ass, and essentials. “Thank you, Eskel.” It was hard to keep the breathlessness out of his voice. This was actually very thrilling. The idea that he was so exposed out in the open at the base of the Blues. No one was likely to come up on them here but it wasn’t impossible either.

Once Eskel had secured Roach's reins to his pommel he swung up in front of Geralt. Loosening the blanket from around Geralt to wrap it around the two of them, he pulled Geralt’s legs up to circle behind himself. Geralt had to hold onto Eskel’s neck to keep from being tipped off the horse. Grinning Eskel showed Geralt a small vial of oil and then went about unlacing his own leathers and braies. Pushing them down just enough in the front to get his cock out.

Finding a soft spot on Geralt’s neck Eskel licked and sucked at it until it was tender. Probably already turning purple, Geralt thought to himself, feeling his own cock twitch at how much he loved getting marked up by Eskel. The soft slick sounds of Eskel oiling his cock and stroking it filled Geralt’s ears for a while. “You’re mine, you know that? Kept me out on the Path late this year an’ now ‘m cold.” Eskel’s words replaced the slick slide of his hand on his cock. “But ‘s alright, you’re gonna be a warm tight place for my cock to rest aren’t you?”

“Yes Eskel.” The response was instant and Geralt hadn’t even thought about it. Hadn’t needed to because he wanted this so bad. Wanted to have Eskel’s cock in his ass right now as they rode up the trail. Eskel’s warm hands cradled Geralt’s ass, lifting him and pulling him closer. “Th-” Geralt swallowed the roughness in his voice down, “thank you for using me, Eskel.” Resting his head against Eskel’s shoulder and neck, Geralt muffled his own cry there when Eskel pushed into him all at once. Thrusting up while he pulled Geralt’s hips slowly down. The burn and stretch made Geralt’s pulse jump in his throat, Eskel rarely took him like this—without stretching him at all.

Geralt barely noticed how Eskel carefully tucked the woolen blanket around them to keep the heat in and cover his skin. But he moaned like a whore the first few jolting steps that Scorpion took when Eskel nudged him back onto the trail. “Shh, don’ wanna stir the creatures.” Eskel spoke as though nothing was going on; Geralt could barely focus for the throbbing in his ass and the heat pooling in his gut, pulse rushing in his ears. Still he tried. Tried to be quiet as the steps smoothed out on the trail again.

Gently Eskel rubbed his back through his armor, but otherwise ignored Geralt in favor of watching the trail. Geralt's cock could not ignore the situation though, and it was now aching as well, every rocking step Scorpion took rubbed the head almost painfully against Eskel’s linen tunic where it peaked through his armor. Geralt had no idea how long this went on but it seemed like forever, and there seemed to be no position he could achieve that would stop the stimulation either.

“Stop squirmin’ this isn’t for your enjoyment.” Eskel’s arm tightened around Geralt like a steel band, increasing the friction slightly. Pinning Geralt’s leaking cock between his own skin and the rough linen of Eskel’s tunic. “C’mon Scorpion, we need to get home.” Eskel nudged Scorpion forward a little faster and Geralt let loose a whine as his cock was tortured mercilessly.

Soon Geralt was a panting mess, and he keened into Eskel’s neck as his cock gave up, messing Eskel’s tunic with everything it had. “Did that feel good?” Eskel sped Scorpion up again into a working trot, the gait forcing Eskel’s hips up and his cock forward into Geralt with every step. “For me to use you? Gonna use you for my own pleasure now. Eskel lowered his arm around Geralt’s waist, letting him arch his back as far as he could and still hold on. One hand on Eskel’s arm, the other gripping his armor hard as Eskel let Scorpion’s movements guide his thrusts until he spilled hotly inside of Geralt.


When they finally arrived at Kaer Morhen Lambert met them at the gates. “Fuck me with an Eternal Fire, what took you two so long? We thought maybe you weren’t coming.” One look at them though—even though they’d managed to clean up some and were each back on their own horse—had Lambert glaring angrily. “You know what? I take that back, I don’t fucking care. Go take a bath you reek of horses and fucking.” Stomping away Lambert didn’t get to see Geralt bury his face in Roach’s neck or Roach shake her head ruefully, blowing out hot air steaming in the cold.

Eskel still looked as though nothing was amiss and calmly guiding Scorpion into the stable. “Lambert really needs to get some ass.”

Chapter Text

Most of the time Eskel put very little thought into Geralt being as free with his affections as he was. It was simply a part of who Geralt was, it was immutable and unchangeable. And he knew it was unfair to ask Geralt to stop being that way. They had an easy arrangement which allowed Geralt the freedom to sate his wants, needs, and desire, and allowed Eskel to keep a hold on his own deep-seated possessiveness and sanity. Eskel knew about Geralt’s outside amorous adventures, and when Geralt was on the Path there were virtually no restrictions in place save those that he placed on himself. And when Geralt was at home for the winter or otherwise around Eskel, he was Eskel’s and no one else’s. There was never a need for Eskel to see Geralt with a woman, or another man for that matter if that was what he chose. It wasn’t something he heard about either. Those were Geralt’s private moments with other people. Not meant for Eskel anymore than his private moments with Geralt were meant for them.

It was a good arrangement too, until it failed Eskel. Until one night he was riding late in the night, headed north toward Novigrad, and decided that rather than continue on when he was tired he would stop at The Cunny of the Goose. See if there was a room available and finish that last small leg of the ride in the morning. The rooms at The Goose were cheaper than in Novigrad anyway.

What Eskel had not expected was to walk into the inn and see Geralt tucked away in the corner sitting sideways on a bench, dead sober, with a giggling woman on his lap. Geralt was whispering in her ear with that tiny smile on his lips and she giggled harder, pressing her hand to her chest. The eyes of the man sitting next to her on the bench were trained on the breasts beneath her hand. One of Geralt’s legs rested on the young man’s knee and his hand was curled over Geralt’s ankle there.

First a wave of nausea slammed into Eskel and he shoved it down. Then the utter jealously splashed back against him as he began to register what Geralt had whispered to the woman. Suggestions of the three of them, together. Of Geralt and her, and the man watching. Of him watching them; of her watching them together.

Eskel felt like his whole world was going red, and the possessiveness that he normally kept tamped so far down was erupting to the surface quickly. The man’s hand was holding Geralt’s leg for the sake of all the Gods. Like Geralt was his! To touch and do whatever he pleased with. Swaying in his feet, Eskel stared unblinking, trying to remember how to breathe. Desperately wanting to get himself under control before he marched over there and yanked Geralt away from it all.

Gold eyes met his across the room and everything seemed to still for a moment. Geralt’s tiny smile was gone as he whispered into the giggling woman’s ear, pulled his leg from the man’s lap. Their faces soured and they protested quietly but Geralt was already up and moving away. Geralt kept his eyes locked on Eskel’s as he strode purposefully across the taproom. Ignoring the music and the swinging of the dancers around him.

“Not here, you’ll get us kicked out.” Geralt’s voice was solid in Eskel’s ear, as he took Eskel by the arm and guided him right back out the door onto the dock.

Outside Eskel whirled on Geralt, “You’re MINE.”

“I know that, you know that, Eskel. You know what that was.” Geralt was calm, eyes still on Eskel’s, soft and reassuring.

“I know, ‘m sorry. But he was touchin’ you like he owned you and he doesn’t. You belong with me.” Feeling bad Eskel’s shoulders slumped. He wasn’t supposed to do this, Geralt was a free man, to do as he liked when he was on the Path.

You own me, not him, Eskel. I know that. Come on let’s get our horses and go make camp somewhere.” Reaching up Geralt touched his face and Eskel felt instantly better at his words. You own me. I know that. It wasn’t true, Geralt wasn’t chattel to be bought and sold but between them, in bed it was true. And hearing it made Eskel feel a hundred times better.


Camp was a quick affair. No logs, no fire. Just a safe place with some trees for cover and their bedrolls thrown together. Horses turned out to graze for the night. Eskel stripped out of his armor and crawled naked into the bedrolls, mind still on fire from earlier. He wasn’t one to sleep naked on the Path often but when Geralt was around he made an exception and kept his swords close as a compromise. Geralt crawled up behind Eskel and pressed against him.

“Turn over and look at me please?” Geralt’s voice was distant, quiet, but more than enough for Eskel to hear and he knew he couldn’t ignore what was coming. He should never have behaved so jealously.

“’M sorry. I just can’t see that kind of thing. You know how possessive I can be. It’s why we do things this way. I don’ wanna stop you from being you.” Eskel spoke as he rolled over to look at Geralt, surprised to see that tiny smile back and eyes lit up with mischief.

“I know, its part of what I love about you. You want to own me, and I want to be owned, used, kept. It makes me-” Geralt pulled Eskel in for a kiss and Eskel realized how turned on Geralt was by his own admission, “-really satisfied? To be the one person who can fulfill that for you.” Geralt threw a leg over Eskel’s hip drawing him in and pressing his cock against Eskel’s. It was already half hard. “Please, make me feel owned tonight, Eskel? Let me give myself to you to take and use? Because the way you were looking at me earlier when that man was touching me…”

Eskel growled at the mention of earlier. Rolling Geralt onto his back and coming to rest on top of him. Forcing the air out of Geralt’s lungs as his whole weight rested on him, Eskel sought out Geralt’s hands, grabbing them and pulling them above his head to pin them there. “You are MINE. Not that man’s. Not anybody else’s. Mine.” Eskel thrust his hips forward roughly against Geralt’s, the painful little gasp of air Geralt drew in at having his cock trapped and squashed sent a jolt of fire to Eskel’s own. Spreading his own knees, Eskel took Geralt’s with him, stretching his legs wide open beneath him, leaving him to feel pinned and vulnerable. “If you need me to fuck you into the ground. Remind you of who you belong to. Make you moan until you scream my name like a good little whore, then I guess I will.” Geralt’s cock jumped against Eskel’s at being called a whore and Eskel smirked, rubbing his own against it.

“I wanna feel it, Eskel, please.” Geralt was breathless underneath him, squirming against Eskel’s hold. “I need you to use me, let me know that I am still yours.” His hands clenching and opening, trying desperately to reach for Eskel.

Letting go of Geralt’s wrists, Eskel moved quickly to grab behind his knees and draw them up, pressing them to the sides of Geralt’s chest. The blankets sliding down his back, exposing them both as Eskel sat back on his heels. “Hands behind your knees. Hold them open wide for me. Let me see what’s mine.” Even in the dark Eskel could see every inch of Geralt’s most private places on display. Cock and balls unprotected, puckered rosebud squeezing and tightening with each ripple of Geralt’s arousal as it moved through him. Vulnerable and begging Eskel to claim him still. The sight of it, the sound of Geralt asking for it, made Eskel’s whole body ache to fuck him hard. “You wanna be a good whore for me? Then stay.”

Eskel got up slowly, watching Geralt in his peripheral vision as he went to his bag and rummaged for some oil. He hadn’t planned on seeing Geralt though and he had none in his bag. There was some lanolin that he used on his leathers, to keep them supple, though and that was close enough. It might be a little rougher, but he doubted that would do anything except make Geralt come harder. Gods knew some extra friction would feel good for him.

When Eskel returned to their bedrolls, Geralt was still laying on his back holding his legs open wide. Presenting his ass to Eskel like a gift. Eskel settled on his heels again, rubbing one hand over Geralt’s beautiful ass and taking a finger-full of lanolin from the tin with the other. None to slowly Eskel smeared the ointment over Geralt’s entrance, then buried his finger in to the hilt. “You like that?”

Geralt could only whine in response. Eyes glassy and wide as he stared up at the stares biting his lip.

“Guess you need more, if you’re gonna scream my name.” Eskel stroked his finger in and out a few times and then crossed one finger over the other and pressed back in with two. Geralt whined again. Deeper this time.

Eskel slapped Geralt’s ass hard, enjoying the sting it left on his own hand and the startled yelp it pulled out of Geralt. “Ahh!” Geralt drew in a sharp breath and then let out a moan when Eskel grabbed a handful of his ass right where his hand has just landed. “Fuck. Yes. Please.”

Pushing a third finger in and working Geralt’s rim open for a moment Eskel slapped his ass again. Three quick hard strikes to match the fingers in Geralt’s ass. “Fuck, Eskel!” It was loud and desperate right in the middle of the third strike.

Eskel rubbed his hand softly over the red area and withdrew his fingers. “There’s my name.” Sinking into Geralt was bending hot iron. Slowly and with pressure there was give. And it felt fucking amazing. After making it part way Eskel leaned forward to bite at Geralt’s neck, sucking a livid mark over his collarbone. “Whore’s don’ get to come until they’ve served their purpose. Use that pretty ass of your’s to make me come an’ maybe I’ll let you.” Drawing his cock out part way Eskel plowed forward again, opening Geralt up as he went, and Geralt panted underneath him taking it all.

“Please, Eskel, want to feel your come inside me where it belongs.” Geralt moaned, letting go of his legs to reach up and pull Eskel’s body down into his. “I want to be your whore. No one else’s”

“Shit, Geralt.” It took everything from Eskel not to spill inside Geralt at those words. It was so good, too much, to hear Geralt say that. Eskel rocked out and back in hard. Listened to Geralt cry out from it and did it again. Reaching in between their bodies to grab Geralt’s cock, hot and silky skinned in his hand, Eskel pounded into Geralt for several long moments. “Who’s whore are you?!” He demanded, loud and rough against Geralt’s skin.

“Your whore. I’m yours, Eskel.”


It was sometime later that Eskel realized both he and Geralt were cold. Come was dried and itching between his belly and Geralt’s. And Geralt was making soft, but uncomfortable noises underneath him. Groaning with the effort Eskel rolled them both on their sides, still keeping one arm around Geralt. He pulled the blanket up around them, tucking it around Geralt’s shoulders. There wasn’t much he could do about the mess for now, but he wanted to keep Geralt warm at least, and stop crushing him.

“Hey,” Eskel bent to kiss Geralt on the lips gently. “Geralt?”

There was a soft moan, and Geralt blinked up at Eskel, eyes hazy but no answer.

“Geralt I love you.” Eskel brought his hand up to run it through Geralt’s hair, ponytail long lost in the fray earlier. “You’re amazin’. And you give me everythin’ I want.” Geralt shivered in Eskel’s arms. “I love that you wanna be mine, but I don’ think anythin’ less of you for it, alright?”

Geralt blinked up at Eskel again. “I- I know that.” Geralt laid his head against Eskel’s shoulder.

“What’d’ya need from me right now?” Eskel knew what they had done was intense and Geralt would be alright but he also felt like Geralt was a little more shaky than usual right now. And Eskel wanted to give Geralt anything he needed to feel more solid and assure him he was loved and welcome.

“I’m cold.” Just two words. That was all Geralt seemed able to put together at the moment. Small strings of thought.

“You want me to get up an’ build you a fire?” Eskel didn’t really want to leave Geralt, but he would be happy to make a fire to keep him warm, then curl back up around him.

Geralt looked up at him and a little more softness edged into his eyes. The start of a smile. “Please?”

So Eskel got up and as quickly as he could gathered a few downed branches from right around the camp, buck ass naked without even a sword. Piled them together next to their bedrolls and flicked them to life with Igni. Then he did exactly as he planned, crawled back into the bedroll and curled his body around Geralt’s pulling him close.

“Thank you. Love you.” Geralt smiled as he rubbed his face against Eskel’s neck.

Eskel laughed and smiled. “You give me so much. The least I can do is make you a fire.”

Chapter Text

Wrists tied together above his head, Geralt tried to relax. Eskel had wound the royal purple ropes into a harness around his chest. Placing extra bands of rope above and below the line of his nipples, pinching and pulling them until they stood out between the ropes sore and red.

Shifting his weight from his the ball of his foot to his heel and back Geralt tried to to find a steady stance. One leg was bent all the way up at the knee, so the sole of his foot rested along the inside of the opposite thigh. Eskel had wrapped five loops of rope around it from his knee to the top of his thigh, weaving and knotting the rope in between his thigh and calf when he was done. A web of rope hugged Geralt’s hips like a garter belt, allowing Eskel to attach the ropes from his legs to it.

The leg Geralt balanced on was encased from ankle to hip in a diamond shape weave of ropes, tight like Nilfgaardian trousers, but much more comforting. Geralt disliked those trousers because they hindered his movements, when Eskel tied him up though he wasn’t meant to move, he was meant to stay still wherever Eskel put him. Eskel was making him into something worth looking at and that Geralt enjoyed.

This position though made him nervous. Geralt tried to keep his breathing slow and even, tried to settle into that safe comfortable place in his head where Eskel took over and watched him, but his lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Chest rising and falling too quickly, straining at the ropes around it each time it filled with air. Geralt wanted badly to be able to turn around and see what Eskel was doing, but with only one foot on the floor there was no way he could. A tiny whine escaped his throat and he shifted on his foot again.

“’M right here.” Eskel’s voice was a salve to his nervousness, even though it had come from over by their night stand. Not as close as Geralt wanted. He didn’t like hanging here in the middle of the room without Eskel close by, even with a foot on the floor he felt lost and ached for Eskel to touch him.

Geralt tried to calm himself again, focusing on his breaths, pulling then in through his nose and blowing them out through his mouth, eyes closed. It startled Geralt when Eskel came up behind him and pressed against him, bare chest to his back, the warmth of his leathers against Geralt’s bare ass. A moan rolled out of Geralt, his eyes flashing open, and then he sucked in another breath as Eskel’s hands slid around his waist and settled on his hips. One swift tug was all it would take for Eskel to leave him hanging by his arms Geralt realized and his breath sped back up coming in short rasps.

“Shh, you’re alright.” Eskel’s thumbs rubbed over the ropes on Geralt’s hips, caressed the skin above and below lovingly. The desire to move into the touch was powerful, but the fear of losing his balance was greater, so Geralt held still under Eskel’s hands.

After a few moment’s Geralt found, his voice, “Eskel?”

Those hands stilled on his hips and Eskel’s lips dropped to Geralt’s shoulder in an open-mouthed kiss. “Yes?”

“I-” Geralt searched his head for the words, “-I don’t like this.”

Eskel’s arms circled all the way around his waist, holding Geralt tight, and he relaxed a fraction, able to not worry about his balance quite so much. “Do you want me to stop? Or do you want a distraction?” Genuine concern filled Eskel’s voice and eased Geralt’s mind. He relaxed further into Eskel’s arms for a minute thinking.

Eskel’s arms around him helped so much. “No, you don’t need stop. I need this—your arms—for a bit, and then a distraction?”

“Alright.” It was soft and spoken against the skin of Geralt’s shoulder. Eskel continued to kiss there, slowly sucking at his skin harder and harder. Never letting go of Geralt, his solid living oak alone in a barren forest. Eskel’s teeth against his skin set Geralt’s cock throbbing, and he moaned when Eskel’s added pressure behind them. Eskel moved to the other shoulder slow and purposefully, marking Geralt’s neck and his upper shoulders with dark purple bruises. When Eskel pulled his mouth away and nosed up under Geralt’s ponytail, kissing the stubble of his undercut Geralt let out a soft sigh. It felt good, this was a good place. Warm and safe in Eskel’s arms.

“Gonna step away, jus’ for a moment, alright?” Geralt was too content with the ache in his shoulders and neck to muster an answer so he merely nodded his head, trying not to let it loll to far forward with the motion. He didn’t quite manage to contain the whine that curled in his throat at the loss of Eskel’s comforting closeness but he didn’t sway and feel abandoned either.

And Eskel was truly only gone a moment. When he pressed back up into Geralt, a real groan broke free. Eskel was naked now, no more leather between his thick cock and Geralt’s ass. An oily hand encircled Geralt’s cock and he instinctively thrust into it, gasping as he felt his balance waiver.

“Mmhm, that’s it. Up on your toes an’ you can move into my hand.” Eskel murmured into Geralt’s ear and he bit his lip in frustration. Trusting Eskel’s one-handed grip on his waist Geralt took a deep breath and held it. Bouncing up with his calf Geralt raised himself up on his toes. It was a dizzying feeling, even less balanced that before, and Geralt kept his arms tense trying to take up the slack. Eskel held him firm around the chest, kissed his ear and whispered to him, “Jus’ like that. So good for me. Fuck into my hand.”

Little by little Geralt let his hips push forward into Eskel’s oily grip. It felt great, perfectly tight and slick. Gently he rocked his hips back and forth for a while until Eskel order him down again. Geralt took the time to rest his arms, Eskel still kept one arm around him, now low on his waist. The other hand still oily worked its way between Geralt’s cheeks, making him moan and suck in a breath when Eskel breached him. Slow and gentle, Eskel worked him open. First one finger, then two, slipping inside him and pulling at his rim. Then three, stretching him open. “Stay for me, jus’ one moment.” And Eskel was gone again.

Geralt felt dizzy at the loss, first of Eskel’s fingers, then as his arm slid off of his waist, fingers brushing his hip as Eskel stepped away. Geralt cried out quietly, whimpering in distress, tensing up his arms and trying to hold himself steady. The sound of swishing water behind him barely registered, and what was probably seconds felt like minutes, ages, to Geralt.


“’M still here.” Eskel’s voice carried from behind Geralt across the room.


“Shh.” Dry warm hands squeezed his hips, and Geralt whimpered in relief. “I got you. You’re alright.” Geralt heaved in a breath at the security of Eskel behind him again. At Eskel’s hands firmly gripping under his ankle and inside his other thigh. “Trust me?”

“Mmhm, always.” Geralt voice still sounded weak to his own ears.

Eskel nuzzle behind his ear, “Then bend your knee for me.”

Heart thumping loudly in his own ears, Geralt fought with his body to make it obey Eskel’s request. Show Eskel he trusted him. Eskel was right there. Eskel wouldn’t let him fall. It took everything Geralt had to bend his knee even the slightest, to feel it give way and know he was going to fall. To hang by his arms, swinging, except that he didn’t. His weight was held by Eskel’s hands, under his ankle and thigh, lifting him up, tipping him back against Eskel’s chest.

“Uuugh huhg huh,” the air punched out of Geralt in strangled bits, “Eeeskel…”

Hoisted up high enough by Eskel that his arms felt the slack and pulled to take it up, Geralt relaxed falling back into Eskel’s chest. The head of Eskel’s thick cock nudging at his loosened slick furl made Geralt bite his lip and moan in need. His unspoken question was answered by Eskel lowering him down onto his cock, filling Geralt up. Lifting him and dropping him down slowly again. Fucking into him deep using Geralt’s weight to drive himself home.

“Ohh Fuuck me, Eskel. Please.” Geralt found words, strung them together, shouted them out.

“Yeah? You like that don’ you?” Eskel was grinning against his shoulder and neck, Geralt could feel the torn smile there on his skin.

“Ye- yes I do. Please.” It didn’t last long, the deep hard drops striking Geralt in a way nothing else ever had with Eskel. Pummeling past his prostate, then dragging back out of him to do it again. In minutes Geralt was covering himself in his own cum. The shuddering squeeze of his ass must have pushed Eskel over the edge as well because Eskel buried himself deep and stayed there filling Geralt up with his heat, groaning his pleasure and thanks into Geralt’s ear.

Chapter Text

The leather of his belt felt smooth enough in Eskel’s hand. He knew why Geralt was so averse to it though. The smack of Eskel’s bare hand, or even the lick of his fire did a lot for Geralt and Eskel knew that. Geralt had told him that before the dungeons, he’d let someone else use a flogger on him and he’d gotten off on it. Eskel was sure he knew who that was and he deliberately avoided thinking about it.

It must have taken a lot for Geralt to tell him that, Eskel was sure. Admitting that pain aroused him was very difficult for Geralt. Never something Eskel pushed. He’d learned long ago that wasn’t a subject to press with Geralt. Eskel felt like this must have been very important to Geralt. For Geralt to talk to him about it, and to ask Eskel to try to make it something he could enjoy from Eskel now, without having those bad memories crowding in.


Eskel wanted to do this for Geralt, he really did, but he needed to know what he was going to be doing to Geralt too. That part definitely wasn’t something Geralt needed to be around for though, so Eskel had waited until some high and mighty Lord had invited Geralt to the kind of dinner party Geralt couldn’t refuse. The kind with fancy clothes but the hint of a potential monster in the cellar. Eskel had politely begged off, while encouraging Geralt to go be a witcher—dress code be damned—and discover if the man really had a kikimore problem beneath his house.

With Geralt out of the house Eskel had prepared to try his belt out on himself so he would know what he was doing long before he ever let it touch Geralt. Now Eskel was sitting in their room in Corvo Bianco, naked as a house sparrow, contemplating his well worn leather belt. He pulled it through his fingers a few times, getting a feel for its length. Let it fall on his leg softly. It was heavy, had weight to it. The more he handled it the warmer it got and it held that heat.

Taking hold of the buckle Eskel wrapped the leather around his hand a few times and made a fist. Standing up he swung it lightly in the air getting a feel for it, then put his hand out and let the belt hit it. It certainly didn’t feel good, but he could see how Geralt would appreciate it. He continued, legs parted slightly, letting the belt strike his inner thigh with the same speed as it had his hand. That hurt more and Eskel winced at the sting. The skin there was more tender than his palm, and he knew that. Mentally he prepared himself to let the belt come down harder on his leg, Geralt liked things rough and Eskel wasn’t one to hold back if that’s what he needed, as long as he wasn’t going to make Geralt bleed.

Eskel’s knee almost buckled when the belt struck the inside of his thigh harder and faster this time, wrapping itself around to bite into the back of his leg. “Ow! Fucking Melitele!” Eskel put all his weight onto his other leg and hopped backward to the bed to sit down. Sucking in a hard breath. That fucking hurt, what the hell? Eskel dropped his belt and put a hand to the back of his leg. Felt the warmth building there already.

He hadn’t meant for the belt to reach around to the back of his leg. It was too long. Eskel stared at the belt on the floor long and hard while rubbing the back of his leg. Fucker . He’d have to make it shorter so he didn’t screw up like that on Geralt. Standing up Eskel tried to look over his shoulder and past his ass to see if he’d left a mark on himself, but he couldn’t get a good look and he wasn’t in the mood to go fish out his shaving mirror now. A dose of Swallow when he was done here would take care of any bruises he left on himself and hopefully Geralt would be none the wiser of his little experiments.

Picking the belt back up Eskel turned it over in his hand, then doubled it. Gripping the buckle end again he slapped it against his other thigh, light again, then harder, then harder still. It stung like a sorceress’ tongue and Eskel could see how Geralt would get off on it. It was also loud . Louder now that he had folded it in half, and Eskel was worried that the noise might startle Geralt causing him fall into that hole in his mind that Eskel worked hard to keep him away from.

Bit by bit Eskel formed a plan of what he would do for Geralt during this. How he would approach the sounds, sights, and sensations Geralt associated with this kind of beating, and turn them into the kinds that Geralt associated with Eskel and playing instead. He’d already chosen his own belt instead of a flogger for this reason—Eskel was determined to make this different. Different from the dungeons and different from her. He wanted to make this something that was special for only Geralt and him.




Geralt was sitting cross-legged on the bed when Eskel entered. Wolf medallion in the silver bowl on the bedside table, he felt naked even though Eskel had told him to leave his braies on. Geralt had piled all his clothes on the dresser haphazardly as usually with his swords stacked on top and then crawled onto the bed to sit and wait. It felt strange to sit like this in his braies when he knew he should be naked, but he tried to not question Eskel’s judgment, Eskel didn’t like that.

The bed dipped behind him and Geralt was surprised to realize Eskel had gotten on the bed with him. He was already getting so lost in his own head that he wasn’t paying attention and that probably wasn’t good. Frowning at himself Geralt let out a slow breath, closing his eyes and trying to close out the world for a moment.

“Come sit with me.” Eskel’s voice was strong and warm, like thick honey behind him, and Geralt opened his eyes, looking over his shoulder. Eskel was leaning against the headboard, legs out straight so his feet almost touched Geralt’s ass, ankles crossed. Wearing only his leathers as usual for when they played Eskel had his belt sitting in his lap, but his hands were relaxed at his side. “I’ve started, but I wanna talk to you still, c’mere.” Eskel held out one hand to Geralt.

This was confusing, not how they usually did things, but still Eskel had said he’d started—he had left his boots and armor outside the door which was how they usually did things—and there were consequences for not listening when Eskel told him to do something after they’d started. Geralt crawled up the bed and sat next to Eskel where he patted the bed. As soon as he did Eskel’s arm circled his shoulders and pulled him in close, lips skimming Geralt’s forehead.

“Relax an’ breathe with me.” Eskel tipped Geralt’s head against his shoulder holding him tightly. Placing his hand on Geralt’s chest, almost imperceptible pressure urged Geralt to exhale with Eskel. Then it disappeared and they breathed in together long and deep. Eskel kissed Geralt slow and easy, drawing it out, causing them both to hold their breath, then that minuscule pressure on his chest returned as Eskel’s mouth retreated and Geralt let out all the air in his lungs. By the third kiss and subtle press at his chest Geralt found himself easing into Eskel’s hold. “Tha’s better. You’re bein’ good for me. I like it.” Eskel flashed him a crooked grin and Geralt felt good .

“Thank you.” Geralt pulled his knees up and turned further into Eskel.

“I wanna talk to you, an’ I wanna show you this before I touch you with it. Alright?” Eskel motioned to his belt where it laid in his lap and Geralt nodded docilely in return. He didn’t want to fall down into that hole where he felt like he was only enduring a terrible thing, waiting for it to end, he wanted this to feel good with Eskel. But the pit was right there and he felt so close to the edge of it. Staring at the belt in Eskel’s lap, Geralt felt like he couldn’t look away. “Hey, look at me,” Eskel murmured near his ear and Geralt’s head turned up of its own accord. “What do you smell?”

Confusion must have flashed over Geralt’s face for a moment because Eskel gave a slight tug to his hair. “Don’t ask, jus’ answer.”

Geralt pulled in a deep breath and let it flood his senses, eyelids drooping as he processed the scents. “Only you, you smell really good. Your shave soap is really strong. Smells like juniper, bourbon, oil, and leather.”

“Good, you start to worry I want you to take a deep breath an’ see if you can smell me, alright?” A slow nod into Eskel’s neck was Geralt’s conformation that he understood. Eskel took one of Geralt’s hands and laid it on top of his belt, covering it with his own so Geralt couldn’t pull it back. “This’s my belt. The one I wear every day. M’ not gonna hit you anywhere ‘cept your ass, alright?” There was a long pause, Eskel’s breath steady in his ear. “An’ I wanna hear your voice when you answer me this time.”

Curling his fingers around the leather Geralt followed Eskel’s orders and took a deep breath. Letting the smell of juniper bourbon soap settle on his nose. This was Eskel and he didn’t lie, if he said he wasn’t going to hit Geralt on the back, that was the truth. Geralt swallowed to wet his throat, “Yeah, that’s alright.” It wasn’t exactly loud but it sounded less terrified than Geralt had expected and that made him smile slightly. Eskel dipped his head down for a kiss again, a soft groan coming from somewhere between them, Geralt smiled a little bigger when he realized it hadn’t come from him. “I do want this.” Geralt did want this, only with Eskel, and he wanted to feel it, to like it again. He was a little shocked he was able to say that at this moment though.

“You wanna hold it?” Eskel’s thumb was rubbing gently over the back of Geralt’s hand on the belt.

Geralt took the belt from Eskel’s lap, looking at it in a whole new way. Eskel’s other arm joined the first in circling around him and holding him tightly, Eskel’s chin resting on his shoulder, watching his hands. This belt that Geralt had seen day in and day out for years, was going to rain down on him, with Eskel in control of it. Another deep breath brought the calming smell of Eskel’s clean skin and soap. Eskel would be in control of it, no one else, Geralt reminded himself. He gave the leather a testing tug, it was strong and thick. Geralt’s thumb fiddled with the buckle and Eskel spoke, chin still resting on his shoulder, “I’ll be holding that end, so it won’ hit you. ‘M gonna fold it in half, thread the tail through the buckle like this.”

Eskel carefully took the belt from him and tucked the end into the buckle, securing it on the loosest notch. Folding the buckle flat Eskel fitted it into his palm and turned his hand over to show Geralt. “’S loud when it’s folded though, I want you to hear it first. Ready?”

The longer Geralt sat here with Eskel, taking his time to explore the belt and listen to Eskel talk, the better Geralt felt. The words came almost naturally this time. “Yeah, go ahead.” Eskel gripped the other end of the belt, pushing the two ends together to create space between the two pieces of leather, then pulled them apart rapidly creating a loud crack.

Geralt jumped.

“’S alright.” Eskel leaned over and kissed Geralt’s forehead again, and Geralt exhaled. “Gonna do it a few more times, so you get used to what it sounds like.” Geralt watched closely this time, and even though he was prepared he still jumped a little. The third time made him jump but he was no longer holding his breath while he waited for the noise. By the fifth Geralt’s mind had started to wonder what feeling might go along with that sound.

“-take off your braies now, alright?” Geralt’s attention was pulled away from trying to figure out how the belt would feel to Eskel’s voice.

“Huh?” Geralt was sure he had missed half of what Eskel had said and the half smirk on Eskel’s face confirmed it.

“I was sayin’, ‘m gonna take off your braies now, alright?” Eskel set the belt aside and reached a hand down to toy with the string one Geralt’s braies, buttery cotton the color of cornflowers.

Heart thumping heavily in his chest, Geralt swallowed, “Yeah.” He felt a little lost, but in an entirely different and familiar way. Eskel would guide him here. Eskel loosened one tie, slid his hand over Geralt cupping him through the cotton, giving a firm squeeze to his cock and balls. Massaging Geralt through his braies until Geralt moaned and opened his legs to give Eskel more access.

“Tha’s it, give yourself to me.” Eskel’s voice worked its way into Geralt’s mind slow and thick. Drifting further into that place where Eskel took control and watched him Geralt relaxed back into Eskel’s arm, tipping his head back and closed his eyes. He felt the light tug of the other string of his braies, and moaned wantonly when Eskel’s hand slipped inside, warm against his skin. Calloused fingers teased his cock, thumb playing over the head, working him up to full stiffness. “C’mere.” Geralt allowed Eskel to guide him into his lap. Face down, braies slowly lowered around his thighs as he went. Eskel’s hand lovingly caressed his ass. Belly laying against Eskel’s warm leather-clad thighs, Geralt exhaled softly. Eskel’s hand felt good, like the prelude to a serious spanking—something Geralt had a real appreciation for both in the moment and the aftereffects. “Look at that, all pretty an’ pale.” Eskel murmured above him. “Jus’ waitin’ for me to turn it red.”

Choking on the air in his throat Geralt stuttered to get it out and one of Eskel’s hands rubbed his back. The other squeezed his ass. “’M gonna spank you. With my hand.” Eskel patted his ass lightly. “Count to six for me.” Nodding slightly, face pressed against the bed, Geralt whimpered. This he could handle, this was something he knew and loved.

The first time Eskel’s hand landed it was softer than Geralt would have liked, but he didn’t complain. “One.” Eskel drew a lazy swirl on his ass with his finger before landing another soft blow on the opposite cheek. “Two.”

Smack. Geralt groaned, that one was good. “Three.” The way he liked it to start with, not exactly painful but enough to get his attention. Smack. “Four.” Geralt raised his ass trying to keep the contact with Eskel’s hand as it withdrew. “Five.” Back and forth. “Six.” Geralt pressed his cock against Eskel’s thigh. Eskel’s leathers felt almost cool against the heat and hardness of it now, and a moan trickled out of him at the sensation. “Please, more.” Maybe Eskel would just give him this. No. Eskel didn’t lie, he would use the belt. Geralt squirmed at the thought of it ruining his pleasure.

A hand worked its way awkwardly between Geralt’s legs, forcing him to spread them apart a little. Two fingers teasing at the wet slit of his cock and then retreating. Eskel’s hand rubbed it hot ass, guiding his legs back together and Geralt moaned again. Those fingers pushed between his lips and the salty taste of himself welled up in his mouth. “Tastes good doesn’ it?”

Cool smooth leather skimmed over his warm tender ass and Geralt stiffened, jerking slightly against Eskel’s legs. “’S alright. ‘M jus’ touchin’ you with it right now.” Eskel voice was soft and soothing, and Geralt tried to sink into it and soften with it. His body was slow to comply though. “Think ‘bout how my fingers taste, what do you smell?” The salty musk of his own precum shifted back into focus and Geralt pulled a harsh breath through his nose. Juniper and salt. Eskel and him. Bit by bit he felt the muscles in his back unwind, let go, and he relaxed back over Eskel’s legs. “Tha’s it. So good for me.” Eskel ran the belt over his ass, methodically warming the leather and cooling the heat of his skin. “Relax, I’ll tell you when ‘m gonna use it, an’ I’ll count for you. Only four.” Geralt couldn’t help but wait though, instead of waiting for the belt to strike him, he was waiting for Eskel to warn him. He tried to think back to before when he’d heard the belt snap. What did it sound like again? That had been a long time ago, although maybe not.

“Urhg,” Geralt moaned painfully around Eskel’s fingers in his mouth from the sharp pinch to his sore ass.

“Stop thinkin’ so much,” Eskel barked out, but there might have been a tiny note of laughter hidden in there. A smile in his voice at the very least. Geralt sighed and relaxed again. “Gonna be loud now.” The belt lifted away from him and Geralt didn’t even have time to panic before it landed across both his ass cheeks, stinging pain and cracking noise. “One. So good for me.” The back of Eskel’s hand ran over the stinging line, the tickle making it worse, better. Good. Geralt moaned deep and rasping. He realized Eskel’s fingers were no longer in his mouth but now his hand was rubbing over Geralt’s back. Tracing the deep scars there left by other more painful leather he had endured.

Eskel’s hand pulled away, grazing the belt lightly over the swathe of pain it had left and Geralt didn’t care, it was good. “Loud again.” Crack! Geralt moaned roughly and press his hips into Eskel’s leathers. Another sting of pain bloomed just below the first and he couldn’t wait for Eskel to touch it. “Two.” Eskel’s voice sounded rough and fucked out. Geralt turned his head towards Eskel and laid it across his arms, looking up at him blearily. “Again.” Eskel’s hand massaged his back as the belt rained down on his ass harder.

Geralt hissed, pulling air in through his teeth and letting it out in a guttural cry.

“Three.” Eskel’s hand ran down Geralt’s spine to squeeze his ass and then back up to rub his shoulders.

“Again, please…” Soft and pliant Geralt heard his own voice muffled against his arms. Heard Eskel suck in a breath at it. Cried out when the leather landed on last time across his ass. “F-four. Eskel please I need to…”

“Melitele you’re so good. C’mere Geralt.” Eskel was pulling him up under the arms. Bodily hauling Geralt into his lap. Geralt groaned as his sore ass scooted across Eskel’s leathers and hung over the edge of them. Legs curled in Eskel’s lap Geralt leaned into him, needy and desperate. Eskel’s arm supported his back, hand alternating between grazing over his ass and squeezing it hard to elicit a moan. Eskel’s other hand smeared Geralt’s precum all over his cock. Stroking it firmly, urgently, timing it with the rough squeezes on his cheek to bring him up to a peak. “Fuck. You were beautiful.” Eskel kissed him passionately, licking at Geralt’s mouth, biting lightly and tugging at his lip. Swallowing Geralt’s noises. “Whenever you wan’ you let go.”

The suggestion was all Geralt needed, his body taking it as granted permission, and he quaked in Eskel’s hand. Feral noises quieted by Eskel’s mouth over his again. Vision blurred and gray, Geralt felt like time stopped for a moment.

Eskel’s hand slowly stroking his softening cock, carefully avoiding the sensitive head, made Geralt groan and brought him back to reality. Soft kisses to his face and lips helped Geralt slow his breathing to time with them. Everything seemed slow, muted, and soft; Geralt hugged Eskel tightly, wanting to sleep. He didn’t think he could get the words out though, but Eskel would understand what he needed, he always did.




Clinging to him tightly while Eskel tried to ease him down from his high, Geralt whined and murmured unintelligible words to Eskel. It was clear he wanted to be held, and was on the verge of falling asleep from the sheer emotional weight of the situation, not even taking into the account the chemicals flooding his body. Eskel cradled Geralt’s head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, rubbed his back and whispered in his ear. Waited until Geralt’s breath and heart settled into the simple slow rhythm of deep sleep.

Carefully he laid Geralt on his side, fetched a wet cloth and wiped the cum from his own hand and Geralt’s belly. He gently cleaned Geralt’s cock, listening to the long sated breaths, and ponderous beat of his heart. When he was satisfied that Geralt was clean, Eskel rolled him onto his stomach, arranging Geralt’s head to face to the side and sliding his braies the rest of the way off. Taking an extra blanket from the end of the bed Eskel placed it over Geralt’s legs, leaving his ass—now striped raspberry wine red in stark contrast the the pale white—bare to the air.

Eskel stared at Geralt’s ass. Gods Above it was fucking gorgeous. And it would hurt.

Deciding to take a calculated risk, Eskel quieting padded out of the room. Geralt would sleep hard for a while yet he guessed. He hoped. Slipping his boots on and stepping out the front door Eskel made a beeline for the well. He grabbed the extra bucket there and jogged to the small stream that ran beside the house, filling the bucket with cold water—runoff from the mountains meant it was chilly year round— and then hurried back into the house.

Once inside he toed of his boots and padded back into their room, relieved to see that he was right, and that Geralt was still hard asleep. Eskel set the bucket by the side of the bed and found a towel by the tub. Wetting it and ringing it out he laid it over Geralt’s ass. The cold towel drew a low moan from Geralt and Eskel curled up beside him. Face right next to Geralt’s, Eskel reached out and ran a hand down Geralt’s back.


Shuffling sounds on the bed next to him and pained sound woke Eskel up sometime later. “Hey.” He reached out to touch Geralt’s face and found it wet. Now wide awake, Eskel discarded the damp towel from Geralt’s ass onto the floor, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders and then drawing Geralt into an embrace. “Hey. ‘M right here. Talk to me please.”

“I liked it.” Geralt choked up just saying it.

“Alright.” Eskel brought the blanket up a little higher to wipe away some of Geralt’s tears. “An’ are you upset ‘cause you liked it? Or ‘s it a good thing? You said you wanted to.” Eskel kissed Geralt’s cheekbone. “To b’able to like it again.”

“But I shouldn’t have liked it again.” Geralt broke down. “That’s not right! Only a freak would like something that’s been used against them that way.”

Eskel fought hard not to clench his jaw, Geralt picked up on every little detail of frustration when he was like this. Even if it was not at all directed at him, he would take it that way. Instead he let out a slow breath. “Geralt. Look at me.” It took more than half a minute of patient waiting before Geralt looked up, tears welling in his eyes but not falling. “There are no freaks in this room.” Eskel leaned forward to press his forehead against Geralt’s, resting it there and staring into his watery eyes. “An’ who says you shouldn’t enjoy this? A book somewhere? Lambert—that boy don’ know shit about fuckin’.”

It was barely there but Eskel saw a twinge of a smirk and heard a gurgle that was part sob part quiet laugh. “This?” Eskel made a quick motion between them with his hand before returning it to hold Geralt tight. “This wasn’t what was used against you. This was us.” Eskel hugged Geralt tight, turned his head to kiss him gently and rolled over dragging Geralt on top of him.

Little by little the sniffles and hiccups on top of him faded out into Geralt’s regular respiratory rhythm. Eskel had every intention of keeping Geralt there on top of him though, taking a nap with him. Sleeping until Geralt woke up feeling not so raw. He wanted Geralt that he was glad he’d enjoyed it because Eskel had enjoyed it too and wanted to do it again sometime.

Chapter Text

There was something so satisfying about this. Eskel smiled carefully, not allowing his face to pull at his scars. Geralt loved it, told Eskel it made him feel hugged, comforted, held. That the ropes felt like an extension of Eskel. Snugging up another knot Eskel ran his hand over Geralt’s leg, tightly bound calf to thigh. S hit. He was fucking beautiful like this . All tied up naked, lying helpless on his side.


In the beginning Eskel had suggested rope because metal shackles seemed so impersonal and cold. Not something he wanted to put next to Geralt’s skin. It had been simple then, wrists tied together, legs tied to the bed posts. That sort of thing.

Then he had mentioned it to Aldith and she had shown him how to really tie a man up.

While Eskel hadn’t exactly enjoyed feeling like a trussed up holiday goose in his tunic and braies in the same way Geralt could get hard from it. He had appreciated the gift of knowledge Aldith was passing on to him in a completely different way. There was something about her that let him allow her to truss him up in the first place after all.


It was knowledge Eskel put to use for Geralt frequently. As he threaded the tail of his rope under the loop of another and pulled it tight Geralt groaned. Tying off the knot Eskel patted Geralt’s bare ass, cheeks framed perfectly by the brown jute. Getting off the bed and walking around to the other side Eskel stood in Geralt’s line of sight. Neck exposed, and head tipped back from Eskel tying his ponytail to the thickly wound rope column running along his spine, Geralt strained to keep Eskel into view. His arms were tied securely to his chest harness in a tight hug.

“Mmm, look at you.” Eskel walked down the bed, running a finger along the length of Geralt’s stiff cock. Flicking the head sharply, eliciting a pained gasp, and then returning to Geralt’s sight. “All excited ‘bout this.” Very deliberately Eskel loosened the ties on his leathers, then his braies. Pushing then down in front enough to take out his cock and tease it to full hardness.

“’M gonna fuck you. ‘Til I fill you up.” Eskel dug in the nightstand for the oil, slicking up his hand and palming his cock, rubbing the oil all around it. Making sure Geralt had a good view of the show he was putting on. Eskel glanced down to see Geralt’s cock bob against his stomach all on its own. “Better not come without my permission either, or you’ll regret it.” Keeping his smile small and controlled Eskel removed his leathers and braies the rest of the way, laying them neatly across the foot of the bed below Geralt’s bent legs as he walked around it.

Settling in behind Geralt , nestling his still oily hand in between the cheeks of his ass, Eskel sought out that clenched ring of muscle. Working his finger there to warm the oil and melt the tension out of it, Eskel circled it over and over, pressing a little harder against it with each pass. Geralt’s soft moans and whimpers filled his ears and Eskel let one finger delve inside halfway, withdrawing it and pushing it back in to the hilt. Geralt moaned roughly.

“’S this mine?” Eskel growled against Geralt’s shoulder blade, withdrawing his fingers to circle Geralt’s entrance again before pushing two back in and listened to Geralt grunt at the intrustion. “Hmm? Does it belong to me?”

Panting Geralt swallowed dryly, trying to wet his throat. “Yes, Eskel. It does.”

Smiling slightly against Geralt’s skin Eskel licked the sweat there, tasting the salt and leftover alchemy. “Gonna use your pretty ass.” Eskel widened his fingers inside Geralt, stretching him open. He was moving faster than usual in opening Geralt up for his cock, but he didn’t care. He wanted to fuck Geralt now, and Geralt hardly minded a little a rough play.

Wedging the wide head of his cock against Geralt’s hole Eskel grabbed one of Geralt’s hips and one of his shoulders pistoning his hips until he’d worked his cock inside. Geralt breathed through it, long heavy inhalations, and jagged breaths blown out between his lips. When Eskel bottomed out he held Geralt tightly and laid still feeling the pulse of Geralt’s body surrounding his cock hot and heady.

Eventually when he could still the urge in his hips to move no longer Eskel began to thrust into Geralt, at first slow and shallow, then deeper and stronger. Snapping his hips into Geralt, marveling and the silky heat within, that Geralt saved just for him.

“Uhh fuck, You feel so good.” Rocking into Geralt againt and again, Eskel let out a quiet noise of satisfaction.

“Please, Eskel. I need to come.” Geralt begged, but Eskel wanted his own pleasure and Geralt didn’t sound all that desperate yet.

“No. Me first.” Eskel rutted up against Geralt throwing both around him haphazardly, one by his head the other around his stomach. “Fuck. Gonna fill you up.” Several more rough thrusts later and Eskel was spilling deep inside Geralt. “Tha’s it, tha’s good. Take it all for me”

Geralt whined high in the back of his throat. Eskel continued to fuck in and out of him lazily, reaching out to stroke Geralt’s leaking cock with one hand. Cock softening already Eskel eventually slipped out but kept stroking Geralt’s until he came, hot and wet into Eskel’s hand. Bringing his hand up to Geralt’s mouth Eskel smeared his own cum on his lips.

“Gods you’re amazin’.” Eskel watched for a moment, propped up on an elbow, while Geralt licked his lips clean. Eyes glassy and heart beat thumping away in his cheat like a marching drum. “Lemme heat some water an’ get you cleaned up. Get these ropes off of you.” Eskel was rolling away off the bed. “Wanna curl up with you an’ hold you. Alright?”

“Mhmm.” Geralt’s voice was froggy. He looked completely fucked out and blissful on the bed, laying sideways in the ropes, at Eskel’s mercy to be cleaned and taken care of. Just how Eskel wanted it.

Chapter Text

The humidity sunk right into Eskel’s bones, heating him to the core. Novigrad’s public bathhouse was ripe with a myriad of scents he’d rather not try and classify but after spending a week on Scorpion riding back towards Kadwaen and Kaer Morhen, it would be worth trying to ignore him. White hair flashed next to him and Geralt practically danced past him, light on his feet.

“Come on old man. I don’t know about you but I have been looking forward to this for at least a month.” White teeth beaming behind a huge smile, matching his hair, Geralt turned and headed down the isle between the large central tubs and smaller ones, cordoned off by wooden screen walls. Eskel followed at a more sedate pace, eyes fixated on Geralt’s ass moving under the thin towel he was wearing.

The idea of a hot bath, instead of a cold dip in the river was inviting, but he didn’t know if he’d been looking forward to it for a month. That seemed a bit… excessive. Geralt loved his baths though. And Eskel was glad to meet back up with Geralt and ride the rest of the way home with him for the winter.

By the time Eskel stepped into the second nook on the right, where Geralt had slipped into moments before, Geralt’s towel was on the floor and his ass was in the tub. Arms sprawled along the tiled edge, his shins floated just under the surface. Geralt had already dunked his head, and his ponytail dangled dripping over the edge onto the tile floor.

Eskel couldn’t help but laugh at Geralt’s grin. “Happy now?”

“Mhmm. Get in and I’ll be even happier.” Geralt brought his legs down under the water to make room.

In the privacy of the walled off room, facing away from the door, Eskel allowed himself a lopsided smile. Loosening the knot on his towel he folded it and laid it on a bench along the wall. The water was deliciously hot. Scooting right up next to Geralt and sinking low in the tub Eskel sighed contentedly. He laid his arms out along the edge, one overlapping Geralt’s.

The water rippled gently and lapped at the edges as Geralt shifted around, gliding to the side to grab soap from the tray on the opposite edge. Despite there being several good size bars, Geralt seized the smallest one of all and slowly bobbed his way back over to Eskel, nearly crawling into his lap.

“Well hey there,” Eskel laughed at Geralt’s theatrics. “Might need a slightly bigger piece.” Geralt loved to have Eskel wash his hair for him and Eskel was pretty sure that was what he was after here.

“HmMm.” Shaking his head Geralt leaned in for a quick kiss. “Not for what I’ve got planned.” Distracted by the kiss and the closeness of the Geralt’s glittering golden eyes, slit pupils open wide in the low light, Eskel grunted quietly in surprise when Geralt’s hand circled his soft cock. Geralt captured his mouth stifling the sound.

Dexterous hand working the sliver of soap around his shaft Eskel spread his legs under the water a bit. It had been months and Geralt’s touch felt so good, he couldn’t stop himself from getting worked up, pulling the steamy air in faster and faster through his nose. Bare footsteps shuffled by—muted by the steam and the screen— tensing up with Geralt in his lap Eskel held his breath, lest a stray noise break loose from him. The sound of the water sloshing softly against the marble as Geralt moved his hand over Eskel’s cock, was a deluge in Eskel’s ears. Frantically he placed a hand on Geralt’s forearm, begging him silently to wait.

Happen’s voice carried dulcet soft tones across the air as he explained the bath features to a new guest, and still Geralt’s hand stroked, sliding the sliver of soap around to keep Eskel’s cock slick under the water. Eskel’s fingers left dents on Geralt’s forearm, squeezing tightly in desperation. Fear was edging into his arousal but Eskel cock throbbed in Geralt’s hand anyway, aching for release and so very close to it.

Geralt stilled. Grinning his mouth moved over Eskel’s ear. So low only a witcher could hear he soothed Eskel, hand motionless on his cock while his thumb ran circles over the sensitive head teasing the slit.

“As long as you quiet, no one will ever know.” Lips smiled against Eskel’s ear, a graze of a kiss there, and Eskel buried his head in the crook of Geralt’s neck and shoulder. Mouthing at the slick skin there, tasting it and sucking hard at it to leave a bruise. Eskel nodded his head against Geralt almost imperceptibly, mouth still open against his skin.

Hand starting up again, Geralt worked Eskel right over the edge. Shuddering and biting down on Geralt’s shoulder Eskel’s vision went white behind his closed eyes, the sounds of the bathhouse flooding his senses. Geralt’s touch on his cock conquering his self control.

Chapter Text

Geralt would know that smell anywhere. It had wafted across the Gildorf Market Square in Novigrad, immediately turning his head. Juniper and bourbon. Eskel was somewhere close by. He looked around trying to catch sight of his fellow witcher. It wasn’t exactly uncommon to run into another witcher on the Path, there were enough of them working that it happened. Especially at certain times of the year and in large cities like Novigrad. But it was uncommon to run in to Eskel. They shared their plans for where to work in the spring and Geralt sometimes felt as if Eskel outright avoided him after that.


Following the notes low notes of bourbon and the earthy hints of juniper Geralt was saddened to find that it was not Eskel. It wasn’t even a person exactly, but a vendor’s booth. The merchant himself smelled like old sweat and tobacco. There on the side of his table was a stack of shaving soaps, wrapped in scraps of linen. The epicenter of the juniper bourbon scent. Eskel.


Geralt frowned.


The merchant regarded him wearily, “Interested in something, master witcher? ” There was a biting character to his tone that clearly indicated he wasn’t convinced Geralt was worthy of that title.

“I’ll take one of these.” Geralt pointed out the soap. He didn’t really give a damn what it cost him at the moment.

“Ahh yes, a very nice choice. Good quality lather too. Though you might want to shorten it with scissors first.” Coughing, the merchant traded Geralt’s coin for the soap and watched him with disdain as he walked away.



The Nowhere Inn wasn’t a place where anyone questioned your eyes, and Geralt liked that. A bed and a small wooden tub. One night of privacy. That was all he asked, and he would get what he paid for here.

Geralt hadn’t shaved, his beard was indeed to long to deal with without scissors, thank you very much. Months on the Path wouldn’t be dealt with until he visited a barber, because frankly he didn’t own a razor.


What he had done was take a hot as Hells bath, scrubbing his hair and beard thoroughly with Eskel’s shave soap. He felt clean, and he smelled like Eskel.

Eskel who he used to share furtive handjobs and leisurely blowjobs with. Eskel who now shied away from him and refused to engage in that kind of touch. Geralt was never really sure where he went wrong, but Eskel had moved on, and Geralt missed him so bad.


Sure there were women on the Path. And once or twice he’d even tried to find the same solace in another man, but it was never the same as it was with Eskel. The women were comforting and warm, soft. They welcomed his advances and giggled at his tender touches. Geralt enjoyed that a lot. But the men never lived up to his hopes.


Curled in the lumpy bed the scent of the soap inundated Geralt’s senses and his mind wandered back to those times when Eskel would lock them into the outhouse, sucking Geralt’s cock until he almost couldn’t take it anymore. They’d end up coming together, Geralt rubbing his spit slick cock between Eskel’s thighs, while Eskel jerked himself off.

Geralt groaned at the memory, hand squeezing his thickening cock under the blanket. Breath coming quicker and deeper every pull brought the smell of Eskel across his nose. It was like Eskel was here in the room with him. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough he could imagine it was Eskel’s hand squeezing his cock, thumbing the the sensitive skin under the head.

It wouldn’t hurt and Eskel would never know. Geralt got up and found some oil in his pack, returned to bed coating his cock. Stroking it with closed eyes and breathing in the scent of Eskel he moaned, turning in his side. The smell of Eskel made it so much better. Pressing his balls down with his other hand like Eskel used to Geralt fisted his cock, fucking into it relentlessly.

His orgasm overtook him suddenly and forcefully, making him cry out and choke on his own breath. “Fuck!” Panting and curling in further on himself Geralt wiped his hand on the dingy sheet.

He didn’t bother cleaning up. He’d wash again in the morning. He just wanted to sleep now. Ignore the world for a bit.

“Wish you were here.” Geralt whispered to the empty room.

Chapter Text

On most days, Eskel liked to bathe with Geralt. Wash his hair, shave him clean, scoop the warm water over his body rinsing him off and snuggling around his body enjoying the simple closeness the act brought. On the occasions when Eskel was with Rhys he found it comforting to be able to offer that same intimacy to him. A warm bath or shower went a long way toward bringing them both down after playing. Today though no one was around.

Taking a bath by himself and drying off afterward Eskel’s mind wandered a little. Geralt had made a run to Beauclair to speak with the Ducal Camerlengo about payment for work they’d completed around the area and wasn’t expected back for hours. Duncan and Rhys were off on their own world, steadily working away at their firm Morgan & Wu: Parabotany and Security Consulting. It’d been at least two months since he and Geralt had been to visit them.


Not that they were entirely out of touch, Eskel missed the north a lot and every time he ventured up in search of contracts he stayed at the Rosemary and Thyme. Rhys would send a Watcher through the portal with messages. If Eskel or Geralt weren’t there to get them, Dandy kept a log for them. When Eskel was there, he would send his own tiny wolf Watcher back through the portal with a message for the orks. It was much more efficient than the old way of tossing a letter in a wooden tube through. And it gave Eskel a chance to pet Rhys baby bear Watchers, which always made him smile.


The last time Eskel had been in Novigrad for four days, they had exchanged several Watchers back and forth. On the last night before he was leaving a baby bear had ambled up the stairs with a small black leather cuff tied to its back. A shiny red bow sat atop that. Eskel had nearly snorted with laughter at the sight.

The baby bear informed Eskel, “A gift from Rhys.” Eying the leather cuff in amusement, Eskel squatted down to pick up the bear.

“Tell Rhys- Eskel says thank you.” Wondering what on The Continent it could possibly serve as armor for Eskel removed the leather cuff and the bow from the bear, setting the Watcher free to to complete its new task. Tucked inside was a small card with a rather explicit set of instructional drawings in black ink, and in Rhys’ flowing hand the words, “I saw this and knew you would enjoy it, Rhys.”

Rhys did have a knack for giving Eskel the best presents. The tiny pictorial drawings made it clear why Rhys felt Eskel would like it too. Eskel smiled to himself and resisting the urge to try it out immediately, smuggled it away in his pack.


Now laying out on his bed naked, alone, and drying out after his bath, the little black leather cuff crept back into Eskel’s mind. It wasn’t as though he had forgotten it, he’d merely been waiting for the right time to try it. No one was around, and he had the the time to himself, surely now was as good as any. It had been prickling at the back of his mind for two solid weeks since he left Novigrad already.

Eskel got up and went to his chest in the corner, it was right there on top of his ropes. Unsnapping it, the leather was smooth and shiny but equally stiff. It was light and Eskel briefly wondered if it would feel as good as his hand did when he gave himself a sharp tug.


Sitting on the edge of the bed Eskel smirked to himself as he thought of Rhys wandering in a store full of strange devices made just for fucking. Laying the open cuff underneath his sac Eskel gently pulled his balls down with one hand, using the other to snug the leather over the skin between his body and where he had trapped his balls in the bottom of his sac. Carefully, he closed the both snaps and laid back on the bed with a sigh.

The effect was immediate. Even without his hand there it was like he was holding his balls away from his body, the snug cuff of leather forcing them away from him. Idly Eskel stroked his cock lightly. It felt so very good. With every throb that threatened to draw his balls up it tugged at something deep inside of him.

Teasing his shaft with one hand Eskel cupped his balls with the other, the skin around them was pulled tight and extra sensitive. Each graze of his fingers over the skin was electric. Eskel groaned each time he felt that pull in his groin, his body trying to draw them back and being denied.


In the end he lay there panting, hard cock nestled against his hip and legs draped off of the bed , feet flat on the floor. Geralt would be home in a while. Eskel wanted to know how this would feel with his cock buried in Geralt’s ass. How long could he last like this?


Donning his leathers, Eskel didn’t bother with his armor, or even a tunic. His boots sat outside the door to their room, his armor was folded there with his swords stacked on top. A clear indication of what he wanted from Geralt when he walked in that front door.

The wait was both torturous and highly pleasurable. Even tucked in tightly in his leathers Eskel could feel the leather cuff holding him away. The constant pull and tug kept him on the edge of arousal even when he was doing nothing more than munching on the fruits and nuts Marlene had laid out.


Geralt understood as soon as he walked in and saw Eskel lounging at the dining room table, feet up on another chair crossed at the ankles, in nothing but his leathers, that Eskel wanted to play. The grin on his own face showed he was equally as interested in that turn of events. Eskel would have been surprised if he wasn’t, honestly. It was rare that Geralt didn’t want to be bossed around. He’d take it almost anytime Eskel wanted to give it and ask for it even outside of that.


Head down and ass in the air, naked and skin slick with sweat Geralt looked otherworldly to Eskel. There was already a puddle of cum on the bed underneath him and Eskel gripped his hips solidly as he fucked into Geralt. “You gonna come for me again?” Head turned to the side and glassy eyes blown so wide the vertical slits were almost round, Geralt gurgled softly.

“Sss closse.” The words were slurred and the air was forced out of Geralt with each deep roll of Eskel’s hips.

“Fuckin’ Melitele, I feel like I could spend all night inside you.” It was the truth too. Eskel had already fucked Geralt through two lip-biting orgasms. Given permission to come as often as he wanted, Geralt was quickly a moaning mess. And Eskel wasn’t far behind.

Every time he was close to tipping over the edge the twinge in Eskel’s balls brought him back from the brink, and he did feel like he could go on for hours. Looking at Geralt though, Eskel doubted that his lover could handle much more pleasure.

Slapping Geralt’s ass hard enough to leave the red outline of his hand Eskel reached around to play with Geralt’s sensitive cock. “C’mon, gimme one more.” Eskel draped himself over Geralt’s back, rolling his hips faster, “Show me-” he breathed heavily against Geralt’s skin, “-how much you like it.”

When Geralt came the third time it was with a whimper. Quiet and pitiful. Eskel Rolled Geralt onto his back in a rush, pushing his legs apart and kneeling in between them. Unsnapping the leather cuff around his balls Eskel grunted as they drew up, rapidly stroking himself over Geralt.

“Ah, fuck. Geralt.” Coming in thick stripes over Geralt’s wilted cock, balls, and stomach Eskel moaned loudly, before falling forward and catching himself on his hands, kissing Geralt messily.

Chapter Text

The city of Tretogor was nothing all that impressive. Eskel had planned on passing through but there had actually been a decent paying contract or two. The Radiant Rooster wasn’t a bad place to crash for a few nights while he completed the work either. The food was more than edible and the booze was pretty decent. He’d heard rumors of a white-haired witcher in the area and thought if he hung around long enough he might bump into Geralt.

The thought of an on the Path meeting itched at his mind. It had been three months since they’d parted ways in the spring and Eskel unlike Geralt didn’t dally with others while they were apart. He missed Geralt’s company, and he missed the release he could find within Geralt’s body as well.

Eventually though, when Geralt never came through town Eskel decided he’d better pack up his horse and move on. Having relinquished his room at the Radiant Rooster and collected Scorpion from the stables, Eskel was standing in the marked buying the last of his provisions before riding out of the gates when a distinct smell caught his nose.

Only witchers made blade oil, and Geralt’s had a particular tang to it from the extra arenaria he put in it. Geralt typically traveled with Hanged Man’s Venom on his steel and Necrophage Oil on his silver unless the specifically situation called for something different. That combined with the scent of well worn, and highly cared for leather told Eskel that Geralt had indeed finally come to town for supplies.

“Hey there.” There was excitement in Geralt’s voice. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

Eskel wasn’t startled at all by Geralt’s words behind him. Close. But not close enough to touch. They were in public after all. “I heard you might be around, waited quite awhile, but finally needed to get goin’.” Eskel already wished he hadn’t given up his room at the Radiant Rooster.

“Hmm. Might just have to make do.” Moving aside to another merchant Geralt haggled over the price of some dried corn.

Continuing to peruse the dry goods on offer, Eskel pondered what Geralt meant. He didn’t want to leave without spending at least some time with Geralt. And while he could forego sex, he didn’t really want to.

“Come on I think I know a place.” Spoken under Geralt’s breath so low that no one but another witcher would ever be able to hear it, Eskel turned to look at Geralt just in time to catch a devilish grin. Geralt swung up onto Roach and Eskel followed suit on Scorpion.

Outside of the city gates Geralt lead the way to a dilapidated ramshackle hut, hidden off in the woods.

You’ve got to be shitting me , Eskel thought. It barely has three walls left.

Letting Roach roam free and telling Eskel to do the same with his stallion, Geralt stooped low to enter the shack. Ducking under the falling roof and grabbing at something on the floor. A trap door groaned open.

Eskel laughed. “Son’ofa’bitch.”

Watching as Geralt disappeared down the hatch, Eskel smiled, then hurried to follow him. At the bottom of the ladder was a smallish cavern, bone dry, and the steady temperature of the earth. A few of Geralt’s supplies were scattered around, but there was no bedroll in site, only a small area where Geralt had burnt a fire for cooking and meditating close enough to the ladder to let the smoke dissipate inside the hut above without being noticed.

“No bed.” Eskel was already taking off his swords, setting them against the wall of the cavern. It was dark inside but they could both see fine. Unbuckling his armor Eskel realized how badly he wanted to feel Geralt against his skin.

“Is that a problem?” Grinning Geralt was several steps ahead, swords and armor already laying on the cavern floor by his other items. Tunic over his head and tangled on his arms. He didn’t even bother dropping his tunic when he stepped up in Eskel’s space, grabbing him by the hips to press their bodies together and steal a kiss. “Because I’m pretty sure I’ll live.” Bending his head down a fraction Geralt’s mouth caught Eskel’s ear, stubble brushing over it before he nibbled at it. “It’s been months. I want you to fuck me and I don’t really care where.”

Suddenly Eskel was right there with him. Bed or no bed, he was going to have Geralt. Pulling the tunic off of Geralt’s arms, Eskel spun him, pinning him face first against the cavern’s cool stone wall. “Stay.” Geralt’s heaving breaths while Eskel finished taking off his armor and tunic did nothing to slow the fire raging inside of him. Eskel took his time ridding himself of his boots, leathers, and finally braies. Watching Geralt squirm against the wall. “Unlace yourself. Lemme see what’s mine.”

Stroking himself and trying not to lose control while Geralt complied, opening his leather and braies, dropping them to the floor with a soft whine. Never once taking his cheek away from the wall. When he stood bare-assed and exposed Geralt placed his hands on top his head. Sweet sounds of submission slipping out of his mouth unbidden.

“Where’s your oil?” This was so much less prepared than their usual times in Kaer Morhen and Eskel had only just realized he was missing an important item.

It was a moment before Geralt answered. “Small red leather bag.” He sounded like he was a bit lost in his mind and Eskel kept an eye on him while he went to the bag, found the oil, returned.

Geralt’s ass was warm under Eskel’s hand. He oiled himself and dribbled some in Geralt’s cleft, working it with his fingers, teasing at his tender hole. It felt tense under his finger tips, and Geralt’s breath hitched and huffed with each rub over it. It had been months since he had been touched here no doubt, he only allowed Eskel this. Taking as much time as he could stand Eskel relaxed Geralt’s furl, teasing one, then two fingers in, fucking them in and out. Stretching them apart wide. Listening to Geralt groan deep in his chest.

When Eskel could take the teasing no more, long after Geralt had started begging, he leaned his chest flush with Geralt’s back. Biting at Geralt’s neck and in one long thrust pushing his cock home. Geralt gasped and pressed into the wall to escaped the deep thrust, but it trapped him and Eskel didn’t hold back, claiming what was his. With a whimper and a moan Geralt reached one hand back to steady Eskel’s hips.

The heat and the sweet tightness was breathtaking. Eskel stayed still there, gently kissing Geralt’s neck where he had bitten, there would be a mark for a few days maybe. Running his hand over Geralt’s abdomen, his hip, and thigh. Whispering his thanks. Resting in the warmth there and trying not to lose himself. Eskel didn’t start to move inside him until Geralt started to wriggle against him. Soft breaths and heated sighs coming from him as he pushed back against Eskel in little bits. Eskel knew then that the burn of the stretch must have abated and the pleasure of the pressure was taking over.

With slow rolls of his hips Eskel let the rhythm build. Holding Geralt’s hips steady, leaning against Geralt as Geralt in turn leaned on the cave wall for support. Within minutes the rolling had turned to thrusting. Geralt was moaning, every lust forcing it out of him louder. When the thrusts became deeper, driving into Geralt with more force, his voice wavered.

Crying out and begging. “Please! Please let me come, Eskel!” The desperation in Geralt’s voice sent a wave of arousal up Eskel’s spine.

“Yeah? You wanna come for me? Go on.” Eskel was out of breath himself, and not from exertion. “Show me how much you love it when I fuck you.”

For a while there was nothing but the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and the low hoarse sound of Geralt’s cries. Then the cry cut off, hitched and caught in Geralt’s throat. Eskel’s cock throbbed, and he rose up on his toes, leaning into the intense pleasure as Geralt’s body clamped down around him, squeezing him tight, milking him dry.

“Uhg. Fuck.” Arms circling Geralt’s waist Eskel held him tightly through his last few thrusts. Let his fingers splay on either side of the base of Geralt’s cock, and kissed his neck.

“Love you.” Eskel kissed Geralt’s neck again. “S’ much.”

Now he really wished there was a bed.

Chapter Text


It tickled at the back of Eskel’s mind for months afterward. Geralt had come back from playing with Duncan littered in bruises, and as limp as an overcooked carrot. Geralt wasn’t exactly soft, he liked his pain and would push Eskel to get it. Duncan was stronger, faster, and had a bite to back it up. Yet Geralt claimed that when he was with the two orks alone, Rhys was the one to master them both, and with a rough hand at that.


Eskel could not reconcile that image with the pliable and soft ork who had taken all the pain and pleasure Eskel had given him so well. It made him wonder, his mind trying to figure out how it worked between Duncan with all his power neatly coiled in those muscles and Rhys who didn’t appear that threatening but radiated a magical energy that showed he wasn’t to be underestimated.


Lying in bed in a post-coital haze, Geralt draped over him like a blanket, Eskel stared at the ceiling. His hands mindlessly wandering on Geralt’s flanks. He must have become too distracted trying to picture it, and stopped petting Geralt because he found those gold slitted eyes staring down at him.


“Worried about something?” Geralt leaned in for a kiss. Quick, clean, and chaste.

“Nah, jus’ thinkin’,” Eskel resumed tracing patterns on Geralt’s skin. “You said that Rhys bossed you both around when you were with ‘im and Duncan alone. I wonder what he’s like when he does that is all. ‘Cause he’s nothin’ like that with me.”


Geralt laughed a pleased and satisfied sound, “You wonder if he’s like you or not? He’s nothing like you.” He snuggled back onto Eskel’s chest before offering, “We could always ask them if they’d let us watch. If you’re interested in seeing it.”


“I…” Eskel’s throat was suddenly dry, “I don’ wanna see you with them.”

“No not like that,” Geralt brought his hand up and laid it over Eskel’s scarred face, reassuring, and Eskel turned his head into it for comfort. “Just us together, watching Rhys and Duncan together. I mean you could touch me if you wanted or use me if you felt like it but we’d only be watching them do their thing.”


“Oh...” Eskel’s response was muted by the images running through his head. “D’you think they’d let us?”

“Only one way to find out,” Geralt’s lips curled into a smile over Eskel’s chest.


Novigrad wasn’t exactly right next door to Corvo Bianco, but the city did import a good amount of wine from Toussaint. Which meant Eskel didn’t have too much trouble finding a merchant who was looking for better than average protection on the road there and even willing to pay a little for it.

Riding north he carried a wooden cylinder in his saddlebag. Sealed inside was a letter to the orks from Geralt which Eskel had asked him to write. In part because they were Geralt’s friends first, even though Eskel felt a particular connection to Rhys; but also simply because Geralt was the social one, he knew what to say when Eskel didn’t.



Rhys and Duncan,

Hope this finds you well. Eskel is interested in playing again but a different game this time. He wants the two of us to watch, while you two do a scene together. He is very curious to see what Rhys is like when he is the one in charge. He and I might play quietly in the corner, but nothing distracting. If this is something you’d both be willing to try, send a message back and we can set up a day to rent the Ruby Room. If not, well we are always open to having dinner and a little sword practice instead.

Your Good Friend,

Geralt of Rivia



Still, Eskel was nervous tossing the wooden cylinder through the swirling mass in the backroom that had been built around the portal to the other world Rhys had left open behind the Rosemary and Thyme. Wiping his clammy hands on his leathers, Eskel reminded himself that the worst that could happen was that they would choose not to answer at all. Or the portal could close. Then he decided to go have a stout, or maybe two, while he waited.


A few messages tossed back and forth through the portal had culminated in a date and time being agreed upon. Eskel had made arrangements for the room with Dandelion before paying for a portal to Toussaint. Riding back up along with Geralt in time for the four of them to arrive at the Rosemary and Thyme on the same evening.

Rhys and Duncan were already seated on a bench at a table in the back sipping their respective mead and stout when Eskel walked into the crowded taproom with Geralt trailing behind him, two fingers of one hand gently holding onto the top of Eskel’s leathers.


The broad tusked smiles that greeted them from across the room made Eskel grin right back without worrying about how garish it made his scars look. It was so much less awkward than the last time he had done this. As soon as they were close enough Rhys stood and gave Geralt a warm hug, Duncan in turn clasped his hand over Eskel’s forearm for a rough shake before pulling him into a side hug. They switched, Duncan bear-hugging Geralt until he let out a satisfied groan, his back popping; Rhys laying his head facing out sideways on Eskel’s shoulder and sliding his arms around Eskel’s waist. Eskel allowed himself to wrap his arms around Rhys’ chest and give him a good squeeze before letting go.


Sliding onto the bench, Eskel looked around and waved down Priscilla to order drinks for Geralt and him. It wasn’t long before she returned with a glass of Est Est for Geralt and Eskel’s traditional Kadwaeni Stout. The four of them chatted for a while, Geralt asking innumerable questions about the orks homeworld. The answers all sounded like pure magic and sorcery to Eskel. Lights that shone without the use of fire, illusions made for the purpose of information and entertainment, methods of travel that outpaced a good stallion.


Ciri had mentioned landing on some pretty crazy sounding worlds during her travels as well though, so Eskel didn’t doubt his friends were telling the truth. Still, it amused him. It amused him more that they always seemed happy to come back here, to a world that lacked all those things, in order to see Geralt, and now to a degree him. Geralt had a way of making himself special to everyone, but it made Eskel feel a little bit special too.


Once their drinks were drained empty they made their way up the stairs to the Ruby Room. Dandelion had joked that he might have to rename it soon to the Ruby Red Ass room when they had sent him word about renting it out for a few days again. Geralt took it in stride though, never one to be offended by Dandelion’s perilously accurate assessments.


Inside they each took a chair around one of the two tables in the room. Eskel set his saddle bags by the door and took note of Rhys’ bag already peeking out from under the bed.


“I wanted to go over some things before we start,” Rhys was running his fingers through his shiny black ponytail. “Geralt said you only want to watch, Eskel, and we are definitely interested in the two of you watching us. I know you have some issues watching Geralt with others, so I want you to know ahead of time that neither of us will be touching him during the scene. I would ask the same of the two of you. That you only watch, even if I say something to Duncan suggesting you might touch—it is only a verbal threat meant to humiliate or scare him. I think that is the best way to keep things pleasant between the four of us.”


“Agreed,” Eskel relaxed into his chair and put his hand around the back of Geralt’s neck feeling a little possessive already.

“Yeah, none of us wants to end up freaking out on each other,” Duncan ruffled his mohawk. “And I am not sure how I would react if someone else jumped in with Rhys.”


“Duncan has asked that this scene be a part of a roleplay we do together.” Rhys reached out and took Duncan’s hand, “In our roleplay Duncan is my slave and I am his master. He uses a Captive persona that allows him to behave… differently…”


“Even if I don’t look like I am enjoying it—I am. I can stop it if I need to just like always. Rhys is pretty harsh with me sometimes though.” Duncan squeezed his legs together remembering when he had disobeyed the two orgasm order.

“Alright, if that’s all settled, neither Duncan or I will be bothered if you two have a bit of your own fun while watching. I think we can all get comfortable. Our scene will start when I leave the room and reenter.” Rhys’ expression was calm, patiently waiting for their answer.

“Alright.” Geralt and Eskel spoke in unison.


Eskel stood and got his saddle bags. He saw Geralt was already busy piling some cushions on the floor in the corner with a good view of the room and bed. Smart. He didn’t want his ass or knees numb by the end of the night. Eskel got out a vial of plain oil and a single coil of rope. He pulled off his boots and stripped down to just his leathers. Walking over the cushions he sat down and leaned back against the wall, legs spread wide, bare feet flat on the floor, arms resting on his knees. There was a cushioned space left between his legs for Geralt.


Geralt started to lower himself down but Eskel’s words halted him mid-action, “Get naked first, then you can sit with me.”


“Yes, Eskel,” Geralt whispered and pulled himself back up. Stripping completely nude, Geralt arranged his armor neatly on the table before returning to sit in front of Eskel. Taking his rope and folding it in half Eskel wrapped it around Geralt’s chest high above his nipple line, bringing it down under his armpits and slipping it through the loop at the back. Twice more in exactly the same fashion, listening as Geralt’s breathing picked up speed, he brought the rope over his shoulder and tucked it under the horizontal ropes in the front, securing it around itself. Eskel pressed the rope against Geralt’s skin, running it along the top of the horizontal lines, then tucking it under again just above his opposite nipple, weaving it back through itself and bringing it back over his opposite shoulder. In the back again he looped it through itself securely.


“Arm,” Eskel ordered. Geralt put his hand behind his back with a heavy breath out and Eskel took it in his grip pulling Geralt’s wrist in line with the remaining rope. “Other arm.” Again Eskel was quiet but firm and Geralt tried to stay steady as he gave up more control to him. It had never taken much to get Geralt to start letting go, he was quick to find that place in his mind and remain there.


Eskel looped the remaining rope around Geralt’s wrists and secured them together behind his back. He gave a testing tug and Geralt moaned softly. Tipping Geralt back against his bare chest, Eskel circled his arms around him, pulling him in tight and placed a kiss on his neck, “Thank you.” Geralt sighed heavily, melting against Eskel, but his feet still fidgeted on the cushions.


Looking up from Geralt now that he had him settled where he wanted him Eskel saw Duncan was kneeling on the hardwood floor facing the bed. His head was bowed, Eskel could only see his back—well muscled and strong— his ass, and the bottoms of his feet. The back of his neck showed a leather collar, complete with a buckle holding it closed. It was the only thing Duncan wore. Over the sound of Geralt’s slowly calming heartbeat Eskel could hear Duncan’s picking up speed as Rhys walked away to the door. It opened, Rhys stepped out and shut it behind him. The room was incredibly quiet. Nothing but three heartbeats and Geralt’s somewhat erratic breathing for Eskel to focus on.


It felt like minutes but it was probably only moments before Rhys returned. The door closed loudly behind Rhys this time and Eskel saw Duncan jump slightly at the sudden noise. Eskel’s dropped his open mouth to the skin on Geralt’s shoulder, not to bite, just to rest his teeth there aimlessly while he watched, enthralled.


“You know why I’ve brought you here, don’t you?” Rhys didn’t even sound like himself, his words were short and sharp, affected with a foreign accent Eskel had never even heard before. “My friends here have been wondering if all my time spent training you has been worth anything. I thought we could give them a demonstration.” Rhys was braiding his ponytail quickly as he spoke, paying no attention to Duncan or the fact that Duncan was remaining dead silent. “I want to show them exactly how well trained you are. I know you would not disappoint me would you? You can answer that question.”


“No. I will not disappoint you Sir.” Duncan’s voice sounded shallow to Eskel. It was clear and understandable but it lacked the warmth he was used to.

“Good. You know I really don’t want to have to punish you. I only do it because you need it sometimes. Right?” Rhys had his fingers under Duncan’s chin and was forcing it up to look at him.

“Yes Sir,” Duncan was looking at Rhys now, but no other part of him had moved except to jump when the door shut.


“I think we are a bit far away for them to see.” Rhys hooked a finger through the metal ring on the front of Duncan’s collar and started walking closer to Eskel. Duncan could only scramble to follow on his knees. Several feet closer Rhys stopped with Duncan perpendicular to them. He left Duncan there in the middle of the floor on his knees. Ass on his feet, hands on his thighs, back held strong and straight, Duncan’s head fell forward again.


Returning to the side of the bed Rhys took off his white shirt and black Nilfgaardian pants, tucking them into his bag. He returned with a tube and an elongated mushroom shaped thing that looked as though it was made of green seaglass. Whatever substance was in the tube Rhys applied to the glass, rubbing it around until the whole thing glistened, before ordering Duncan to bend over.


Eskel sucked down hard on Geralt’s shoulder when Duncan obeyed, pressing the side of his face against the cool wood floor and presenting his ass for Rhys’ inspection. Wasting no time in parting Duncan’s cheeks Rhys pressed the no doubt cold glass object inside of him. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Duncan; the glass that was now plugging him up wasn’t overly large, maybe two fingers across at its widest, but Rhys hadn’t stretched Duncan at all first either.


Rhys addressed Eskel, “That butt plug is to distract him. He likes things in his ass, craves them even. He says he does not like things in his throat but he will allow me use his throat regardless.” Rhys toed at Duncan’s shoulder on the floor, “Get up, slut. Tell them why you will let me use your throat.”


It took a moment, but after a harder nudge from Rhys’ foot Duncan righted himself back to kneeling in front of his master, still facing Eskel. He looked around and it was as if he had only just realized that Eskel and Geralt were truly sitting there on the floor, level with his eyes. Immediately, he dropped his head again, “What I want isn’t important, only what you want matters, Sir.”


“Yes, that’s right.” Rhys looked over at Eskel with a smirk, and Eskel started to swell in his pants. “See what a good amount of time and effort will get you? Such an obedient slave.”


Eskel worried at Geralt’s shoulder with his mouth, sure to leave a dark bruise there. Pulling Geralt tighter against himself Eskel rubbed his leather clad cock up against Geralt’s bare ass, slowly grinding it there seeking friction.


Unable to tear his eyes away as the man he’d only seen supple and pliant, soft and willing, made Duncan tremble as he forced his cock down Duncan’s throat. Rhys’ mouth was slightly agape, fangs on display with his ever present tusks as he held himself deep in Duncan’s throat, one hand on the back of Duncan’s head, the other fingers threaded through the ring of Duncan’s collar. Duncan gurgled.


Eskel’s mouth popped of Geralt’s shoulder and he sought out a new spot of more tender flesh on Geralt’s neck. There was a slight hiss, but Geralt settled into it quickly tipping his head to the side to allow Eskel more room. Eskel knew Geralt loved to be bitten, he wasn’t willing to bite hard enough to draw blood, but he would leave as many marks as Geralt would allow.


Duncan was gagging now and Eskel’s cock was throbbing at the sound. He reached down to cup Geralt’s cock and found it stiff as well. Finally Rhys pulled out as Duncan clearly struggled not to move.


Duncan managed to heave a few desperate breathes before Rhys sank back in, setting a steady rhythm. Each inward stroke caused a wet noise deep in Duncan’s throat, not quite a gag but almost an aborted gurgle. A faint rose tint was creeping up Duncan’s cheeks and he did his best to breathe at every chance he got.


Cock hanging half-mast between his legs, Duncan moaned a slick saturated sound. Fist clenching and unclenching at Duncan’s side Eskel noticed the bell in his other hand, his silent safeword. Eskel licked at Geralt’s salty skin between his lips. Rhys was so good at this. Put so much thought into Duncan’s actual safety both physically and mentally, as rough as it looked from the outside.


Rhys pushed Duncan away by his forehead. Gasping for air, Duncan filled his lungs. Mouth wet with saliva, it covered his chin and made his tusks shine in the low light. Rhys prodded Duncan’s half hard cock with his toe, “You see what I mean? He says he hates it, but I don’t think he is telling us the truth…”

Duncan moaned long and low.


“… Quiet you. I did not ask for your opinion on the matter.” Rhys’ cold tone and clipped words cut the moan short. “Maybe I should let Eskel use your throat too. It might help you decide once and for all to admit how much you enjoy it.” Duncan’s face burned brighter, rose tint turning into a coral on his dark olive skin. Tapping his chin for a moment in thought Rhys continued, “No, I think not. You don’t deserve someone as good to their slaves as Eskel. He is too kind for you. You require a firmer hand in your training.” Duncan’s shoulders visibly drooped at the comment.


Eskel let out the breath he had been holding at Rhys’ threat to share Duncan. He knew it was all posturing, but still, Duncan’s body language showed that in that moment it felt real to him. And it hurt. To see Duncan embarrassed at the mere thought of being shared and then crushed by the idea that he wasn’t even good enough for it. Rhys was cruel when he was in charge, nothing at all like the smooth, eager to please man he been for Eskel in his ropes. It was shocking, and all too erotic knowing that he was allowed so much power over this same man.


“Would you like to see some of his other abilities?” Rhys was again looking in Eskel’s direction, completely ignoring Duncan as if he weren’t even present. Eskel moved his mouth off of Geralt’s neck to softly nod in response, not sure if he should actually speak.


Rhys accepted the answer anyway. “He has a remarkable tolerance for pain you know. He came that way. I think it is from a life of fighting on the streets for everything he needed.” Attention focusing back on Duncan now, Rhys ran his fingers along his scalp, scritching there. “I give you everything you need now don’t I?”


“Yes Sir,” Duncan swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing below the leather collar. It looked soft, almost comfortable and Eskel vaguely wondered if Rhys ever attached a leash to it.

“Shall we try that again? You do not want for anything now that you are with me, do you?” Rhys reached down to give a painful twist to one of Duncan’s nipples.


“No-” Duncan stuttered his words thinking hard, “-no, Sir. I have everything I need—want—with you, Sir.”

“That was better.” Rhys walked over to a vase on the bedside table. “We are still working on remembering to use full sentences as you can see.”


Rhys plucked a green leafy stem from the crystal vase. Almost immediately Eskel recognized it as a stinging nettle, they grew all around the outskirts of Novigrad along the waterways there. Handling it carefully, Rhys dug in his bag and pulled out a strange cylinder that looked like it was made out of the flesh of a jellyfish, only clearly firmer. It was light blue and see-through, with nubs on the outside and a hollow tube through the middle lined with waves.


Setting the nettle on the window sill for a moment Rhys approached Duncan from the side. Duncan looked particularly nervous when Rhys held the blue jelly device in front of his bowed head. “Do you want this?” His fingers twitched minutely on the bell in his hand. The object looked fairly harmless and Eskel wasn’t sure why it made Duncan so hesitant. It was clearly soft, so the nubs and waves wouldn’t hurt. Yet Duncan appeared to be trying to quickly calculated the safest answer.



“Do not make me ask you twice!” Rhys voice was acid, burning as harshly as the slap across Duncan’s face.


Geralt jumped, scrambling backward against Eskel, ropes rubbing on his chest, head turning away from the scene trying to bury his face in Eskel’s neck. Eskel wrapped his feet around Geralt’s calves, pulling him in, arms squeezing around his chest. Rocking Geralt slowly, Eskel sat in stunned silence. He had not expected that type of aggression from Rhys, and neither clearly had Geralt, who was trembling softly in his arms.


“Yes, Sir!” There was no hesitation this time.

“Yes Sir, what?!” Gods, Eskel thought he could see a tiny flash of genuine fear in Duncan’s eyes when Rhys grabbed his ear and forced his head back to look at him.


“Yes, I want the stroker please, Sir.” Duncan’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart beat loud and fast. Amazingly his cock was now harder than before, completely erect and leaking. Picking up the tube discarded on the floor earlier Rhys applied some of the slick substance to the inside of the stroker, as Duncan had referred to it.


Rhys handed the blue toy to Duncan, “Hold this, don’t use it yet.” Turning away to the window to retrieve the nettles Rhys carefully picked them up. “You know if you had answered the question properly the first time I would not have needed to touch you so harshly.” Rhys took the toy back. “Hands behind your head.”


Duncan obeyed quickly, eyes darting to the side at the stinging nettles in Rhys’ other hand. Eskel had to admit he did look beautiful like this, kneeling on the floor muscular thighs resting on thick calves, thick solid cock rising between them. The slight sheen of sweat made his olive skin glow, and the way Rhys had him put his arms up behind his head gave Duncan’s chest a wonderful vee shape. Rhys was showing him off and doing a good job of it.


Geralt was still trying to hide in Eskel’s arms and Eskel decided he could use some distraction. Verbal humiliation was always a fine line with Geralt, some things like being called a whore didn’t bother him at all, while anything that played on him being different or worthless as a person could trigger a fast slide down a slippery slope. Not interested in taking that route tonight, even if it was vicariously through someone else’s humiliation, Eskel started to rearrange Geralt in order to give him something else to pay attention too. Pulling Geralt’s calves all the way back towards his groin, Eskel used the chest harness to set Geralt forward onto his knees, then to lower him onto the pillows on his chest.


“Tha’s good, look away for me,” Eskel encourage Geralt in a voice so quiet it was doubtful anyone but Geralt would hear him. Grasping Geralt by the hips Eskel pulled him back, letting Geralt’s legs spread and slide under his own propped up knees. Ass in the air, Geralt’s white ponytail spread out past the cushions onto the wood floor in front of them. Eskel took a moment to appreciate the ass under his hands before uncorking the vial of oil and slicking up his fingers.


Geralt closed his eyes, shutting out the whole scene and focused only on the feel of Eskel’s fingers stretching him open. Breaching him and settling strong and welcome in his heat. Eskel worked his fingers methodically, tenderly stroking as deep inside as he could. Giving a solid rhythm for Geralt to steady himself on as Eskel continued to watch Rhys take Duncan apart.


Duncan was moaning and shaking as Rhys guided the nettles over his nipple, the other nipple already red and covered in the tiniest of white welts. Once again, Eskel was in awe. Duncan held amazingly still aside from the slight tremor, as the green leaves caressed his skin, then when the nettles bit him Duncan gave the smallest of jerks before resuming his perfect pose.


Fuck. It was hot. And Eskel vowed to try this with Geralt, his fingers pressed against Geralt’s prostate drawing out a whimper. Eskel leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Geralt’s ass cheek.


That green plant of pain feathered its way down Duncan’s abdomen, skirting his groin, and Duncan groaned loudly. “He can be quite noisy at times, but I admit I kind of enjoy that trait of his.” Rhys tilted the leaves this way and that over the inside of Duncan’s thigh. Switching to the other leg and starting near Duncan’s knee Rhys worked his way up, and Eskel watched as Duncan jerked periodically under the torment.


“Now, this little slut wants the stroker. He cannot restrain himself with it though.” The flash of fear was back in Duncan’s eyes as Rhys held the nettles steady over the head of his cock. Eskel could hear the whistling whine of trapped air leaking from Duncan’s throat as he held his breath, so minute and high that he doubted either ork knew it was even there. “I don’t want him coming before I get my pleasure, that is not what he is here for. So I will have to give him a reminder to help him remember his priorities.”


“Who comes first?” Rhys still held the nettles precariously close to the head of Duncan’s cock. It leaked precum and the room smelt of sex and sweat; salty rain, bitter musk, oil, and foreign spices.

“You doo-ahh,” Duncan cried out and sucked in a heavy breath as the nettles stung his cock. “You do, Sir!”


“And when do you get to come?” Rhys flipped the leaves, twirling the stem in his fingers, making the nettles crawl up the length of Duncan’s cock.

A gasp as the pain and the red rash followed the nettles up his cock, “When you want me to, Sir!” Duncan’s voice wavered, no longer dull and hollow, but now full of emotion and pain.


“Very good.” Rhys’s fangs were on full display as he smiled widely, “I am proud of you.” Duncan’s eyes slid closed at the words, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. Rhys discarded the nettles and picked up the tube of what Eskel had decided was some type of lubricant thicker than oil. “Take your toy. Use it but remember my rules. I come first and you come when I want you to.”


Arms dropping to his side Duncan took the stroker and Eskel saw his jaw working, muscles clenching as he slid his sore cock into the hollow center. Air hissed through his teeth when he slid it down the length of his inflamed cock. Eskel almost pitied him. Almost. Then he remembered what Duncan had said about enjoying all of this even if he didn’t appear to. Geralt liked a good amount of pain too. At least that Eskel could understand even if he didn’t directly experience it that way himself.


With even measured movements Duncan worked the toy up and down his length. Glassy eyes blinking slowly, unfocused. Rhys was liberally coating his own cock in the lubricant and getting into place behind Duncan. Still kneeling, ass on his heels, Duncan moved easily with a nudge here and there from Rhys. Spreading his knees, raising his ass up from his feet to allow Rhys own knees in between his muscular calves.


There was a grunt cut short and heavy clunk as Rhys pulled the glass plug out and it rolled on the floor. Duncan bit his lip hard and Rhys sighed heavily as he replaced the plug with his cock in a smooth glide. Duncan’s hips were forced up by the motion and Rhys pulled him back down onto his cock rooting him there, groin fitting up against Duncan’s ass perfectly.


“Please…” It was the softest of whispers and it was neither Duncan nor Rhys. Geralt had turned his head back and was watching Rhys as he fucked up into Duncan in slow deep strokes. Duncan’s body was beautifully marked up with a white dotted rash, splotchy coral flushing the skin of his chest and neck. A work of art, in and of itself. An expression of the control Duncan gave Rhys over his body, normally so guarded. An expression of love.


“Please, Eskel…” It was no louder this time but sounded more desperate. Geralt wanted him. Needed him. Wanted to feel loved like that too, and Eskel wasn’t going to deny that.


Slipping his fingers free, Eskel unlaced his leathers. He didn’t bother taking them all the way off, only lowered them along with his braies enough to get his cock free and slicked up. As quietly as he could he got up on his knees and in between Geralt’s spread legs. The first press in was like white hot heavens above. Geralt sighed happily at being filled and stretched. Eskel set a murderously slow rhythm, dragging his cock across Geralt’s already tender prostate. He wanted this to last, both for him and for Geralt. Deep dragging plunges, and slow pulls back.


Loud moans falling from Duncan’s open mouth drew his attention back to the sight in front of them. Rhys was picking up speed and Duncan was pushing through any pain to slide the stroker along his cock, teasing his head in and out of it. Rhys’ mouth was closed around his ear, sharp fang tugging at the skin there, hands holding Duncan’s hips. Whether to steady himself or Duncan Eskel wasn’t even sure, they both looked like they were on the verge of losing themselves to the throes of pleasure soon.



Eskel continued his slow fuck into Geralt, who whimpered through it, tender and oversensitive from the long fingering. Tremors ran down Geralt’s spine and Eskel touched his fingers where his hands were tied behind his back. Grasping at Eskel’s hand Geralt murmured something incoherent. Eskel didn’t demand he repeat it, he had a feeling he knew what Geralt meant anyway. The thumb of Eskel’s other hand rubbed at the top of Geralt’s cleft, dipping down to touch his puffy rim. A loose breath came out of Geralt and Eskel did it again to hear that lovely noise.


“Please, can I?” it was a gentle request from Geralt, nothing demanding in it. He would wait if Eskel wanted him to, but he’d been very good during this all.


“Yeah, you can come for me.” Eskel didn’t vary his thrusts at all. Geralt was so close he would be able to tip himself over just knowing he had permission. A moment later Geralt clamped down on Eskel’s cock inside him and shuddered through his orgasm, splattering the pillow below him. Eskel wasn’t far behind, after a few more thrusts into that extra tightness.


Catching his breath and looking up Eskel saw that Rhys was thrusting into Duncan with abandon, eyes wide in pleasure staring right at him and Geralt. He’d obviously been watching, enjoying the show. Duncan on the other hand was rutting into his toy with his eyes closed in deep concentration, his cock hard and leaking profusely. No doubt trying not to break Rhys’ rules.


Hauling Geralt up by his ropes was like manhandling a giant ragdoll. Eskel managed to get him up on his knees though and then back into his lap. His cock falling limply out Eskel put Geralt sideways across his legs, resting Geralt’s head against his shoulder so he could kiss him easily and open mouthed. Geralt moaned weakly into Eskel’s mouth, taking everything he was given. Eventually satisfied, Geralt snuggled further into Eskel, pressing his nose into Eskel’s hair his soft breath tickling at Eskel’s neck.


“Do you like them watching you while I fuck you?” Rhys was still staring at Eskel and Geralt but he was speaking right next to Duncan’s ear, fangs nipping into it.


Duncan swallowed hard, hand stuttering the toy along his cock, “Yes… Yes I do like being watched… while you fuck me, Sir.”

Rhys stilled inside Duncan, face twisted in pleasure as he came. Eskel could hear Rhys trying to catch his breath while Duncan still worked his cock with the stroker. Eyes blinking open Duncan looked desperate. “Please Sir. May I come now?”


“Do you really think you need to?” Rhys was still a bit out of breath and it made him sound even more incredulous at the thought.


“Yes! I mean no! I don’t need to… but I pleased you didn’t I?” Duncan’s thoughts seemed scattered and his head twisted to the side as Rhys ran his nails over one flat nipple, teasing the welts from the nettles there.


“You mean you want to?”

“No. I only want what you want. Please Sir!” Duncan rutted into the toy and jerked under Rhys fingernails.


“Oh. Alright. Come then. You will be licking it off of anything you get it on though.” Rhys began to get up from his knees and Duncan’s eyes shot open wide. It took only a few moments of calculating for Duncan to look at the floor, and the toy before he cupped his hand over the head of his cock. Determined not to lose a drop. It didn’t take long either. Rhys was busy wiping himself down and redressing in his trousers and shirt; Eskel could see he was still keeping a watchful eye on Duncan though. Duncan was moaning roughly with effort, working his cock with the stroker, never taking it over the head lest he get cum there.


With a jerk and a cry Duncan spurted into his hand in a sudden rush. He looked at it, and only groaned once before proceeding to lick his own hand clean as instructed. The toy fell to the floor, and Duncan slumped on his heels as he cleaned his hand, finger pulling on his own collar.


“Come to the bed, kneel beside it.” Rhys was fully dressed now. Duncan complied slowly, walking over on shaky legs before kneeling again facing the bed the same way they had started the scene. This time though Duncan let his head rest on the bed and Rhys didn’t chastise him for it. Instead he scritched his fingers along Duncan’s scalp and said, “You did not disappoint me today.” Then he walked out of the room.


It seemed like much less time passed before Rhys returned this time. The door closed softly behind him, he went directly to Duncan still kneeling on the floor and leaning his head on the bed.


“Are you alright?” Rhys unhooked the collar’s buckle from behind Duncan’s neck and slipped it off gently. His voice was completely back to that warm deescalating tone that Eskel had always heard before. The one that made everyone at ease with themselves.


“Yeah, I enjoyed myself,” Duncan gave him a slight smile, “More than I thought I would. I want a shower now though.”

“We’re in Novigrad,” Rhys laughed lightly.

“A bath then?” Duncan scrunched up his nose and pushed up off the bed.


“There is already water in the tub in the other room but it won’t be warm.” Rhys’ hand was massaging Duncan’s neck where the collar rested moments ago. “I suppose we could ask Dandelion to send up some hot water once everyone is dressed but it will take a while.” Rhys wrapped his arms around Duncan in a gentle hug.


Eskel worked to arrange Geralt so he could stand and carry him over to the bed. Unlike Duncan he was still groggy. He had fallen asleep against Eskel’s neck so he wasn’t even completely awake when Eskel laid him down. Eskel rolled him onto his stomach to loosen the ropes and free his arms.


“No need for that, I can heat the tub for you, if Rhys can keep an eye on Geralt for a moment while I do it.” Eskel trusted Rhys with this. He would trust Duncan too, except that Duncan needed as much watching as Geralt did right now.


“Thank you.” Rhys flashed Eskel a genuine smile and sat on the bed patting the spot in front of him for Duncan to sit as well. One hand settled on Duncan’s hip and the other ran through Geralt’s hair.


Completely satisfied Eskel turned away to tuck himself back into his braies and relace his leathers. He was sticky and itchy but he could deal with that later, right now they needed to get Duncan and Geralt settled. In the small room where he once tied Rhys to the ceiling beam Dandelion had set up a large wooden and steel ringed tub as requested when he rented the room out.


Eskel dipped his fingers in the water and swished it around moving his fingers to the pattern of Igni. It was a large tub so it took a few minutes before the whole thing steamed properly, but when he was done it looked inviting. He took a pitcher and filled it with hot water. Returning to the main room with that and a basin he set them on the bedside table not already occupied by the nettles.


“All yours,” Eskel sat next to Geralt. He was more awake now, looking at the orks fondly.


Rhys watched as Duncan headed toward the other room and the tub. Gathering up Duncan’s clothes from the duffel under the bed he followed shortly behind. Sitting Geralt up, Eskel gave him a languid kiss, not exploring too much just greeting Geralt’s mouth with his own.


“Hey,” Eskel breathed against his lips.

“Hey,” Geralt’s lips curled into a smile against his. “Was good, huh?”

“Mhmm. You alright? You seemed a bit… worried.” Eskel didn’t want to press Geralt on the point if he didn’t want to talk about it. They’d avoided any issues after all.


“I’m good. Some of the things Rhys does with Duncan would really bother me,” Geralt leaned his forehead on Eskel’s, “but Rhys knows not to do those things to me. We’ve talked about it before. He knows my limits and he doesn’t cross those.”


“Alright, let's get this rope the rest of the way off then.” Removing the rest of the chest harness went quickly, and soon the rope was coiled at the side of the bed. Filling the basin with hot water Eskel got a cloth wet and ran it over Geralt’s chest and back. There were still some red dents in his skin from the rope but those would fade quickly. Geralt moaned softly when Eskel washed his shoulder and neck where he’d left dark marks with his mouth though. Those would take a few days to fade at least, unless he took a contract or ran into bandits and had to take a Swallow.


“That felt so good, you know that?” Geralt asked looking at Eskel earnestly.

Eskel smiled lopsided and torn up by his scars, “I know.” And this time he really hadn’t minded biting Geralt at all; Geralt was right it had felt good . “Lay down.” Geralt went down easily. The washcloth swept over his thighs and in between his legs, cleaning his balls and his cock with gentle efficiency. “Turn over.”


Eskel took his time here, cleaning first the backs of Geralt’s thighs, heating the water again, and then cleaning his cheeks. Parting them Eskel meticulously cleaned Geralt’s ass tenderly pressing the cloth to his furl and wiping away the oil and cum there. When he was finished he offered Geralt a pair of soft-spun cotton braies from his saddle bag. One he had bought just for Geralt when they got to Novigad—brown with gold strings.


While Geralt slipped into those, Eskel stripped his own leathers of and washed himself quickly. A clean pair of his own braies from his saddle bags went a long ways to making him more comfortable. Pulling his leathers back over them Eskel made his way back to the over-sized bed. Geralt had already laid himself back down, and Eskel slipped his hands under his arms to lift him forward, settling in behind him against the headboard and pulling him up to rest against his chest. Loosening the leather tie that held Geralt’s hair in a ponytail Eskel ran his fingers through the white strands, massaging the scalp of his undercut. Geralt hummed appreciatively, sinking further into Eskel’s fingers.


Rhys came back out from the adjoining room holding Duncan’s hand. Freshly washed and dressed in only a pair of well made shorts Duncan looked much more relaxed. Rhys had only bothered to put on his black trousers, leaving the tattoos curling up his arms on full display. Eskel had hardly paid attention to them when Rhys was forcing Duncan around on his knees. As turned on as he was by the show of ownership, everything else seemed to fade into the background, but now with a clearer head Eskel remembered how truly breathtaking Rhys’ body of art was.


Rhys took up a spot on the bed next to Eskel leaning against the headboard as well and Duncan curled up in front of him, head on Rhys’ shoulder facing Geralt. They laid like that in silence for some time before Rhys spoke to Duncan.


“So you liked it more than you thought you would?”

“Yeah. I mean I wasn’t really sure how I would feel about it. But I like it when you treat me like that and doing it in front of someone else,” Duncan’s hand found Rhys’ stomach and rested there. “I thought that would only add to the humiliation.”


“And did it?” Rhys’ hand sought out Duncan’s to lay on top of it.

Getting paraded around like your newest toy, performing on command? Fuck yes and you know it. I was terrified of fucking up and disappointing you. Let's do that again some time." Duncan laughed quietly.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I really enjoyed it too.” Rhys gave a kiss to Duncan’s temple, “And I think you did too.” Rhys looked at Eskel with a knowing smile for a moment and then leaned closer to lay his head on Eskel’s shoulder.


Eskel grinned lopsidedly around Geralt, uncaring about how his face looked. “Mhmm. ‘M definitely happy with how this went.”

Operating on impulse he put a hand on Duncan’s head and let his fingers slide through Duncan’s mohawk. It felt good, and he did it again, fingernails just scraping at the scalp. Duncan pushed his head up into Eskel’s hand so he left it there resting easily on the side of Duncan’s head.


Geralt had already fallen back asleep, but Eskel watched as Duncan stared at Geralt intently, and then looked at him.


Shifting, Eskel woke Geralt slightly, “Go ahead, it’s alright.”


Eskel had to laugh quietly when Duncan immediately pulled Geralt into a solid hug, tangling limbs together in a maze, and burying his face in Geralt’s hair. He ran his hand from Duncan’s head down his neck and back a few times petting him, to reassure him that it was indeed allowed, before wrapping that arm around Rhys and undoing his braid, fingers gently separating out the strands


Rhys hummed happily. “This was fun.”

Eskel thunked his head back against the wall, “This was amazing.”


Rhys looked up at him, “We are still having dinner, yes? Duncan is going to be ravenous when he wakes up.”

Looking down Eskel saw that, sure enough both Duncan and Geralt had passed right out. “Mhmm. Priscilla’s hired some man, makes an amazing roast pig.”


Eskel turned and took a good whiff and Rhys’ hair. “You’re nothin’ like what you are with me, when you’re with Duncan. It’s… shocking. But in’a good way. You’re really good.”


“I am glad you enjoyed it.” Rhys looked over at Eskel. “I can still be what I am with you though, that’s different.”

All of Rhys’ braid finally undone, Eskel ran his fingers the full length of Rhys’ hair, “Tha’s good, I like that side of you a lot too.”

After a lull Rhys sighed pleased, “Geralt seems curious about our world, you two should visit.”


“Maybe we should. It might be fun.” Eskel did wonder what it was like in their world, what was different, what was the same. The more time Eskel spent with Rhys and Duncan, the stronger urge he had to share parts of his life with them, and have parts of their lives shared in return. Maybe next time instead of them coming to The Continent like they always did, it could be the other way around.

Chapter Text

There are some things Eskel misses about Kaer Morhen. The vineyard is nice, amazing really. Better than two of their dying breed should ever have hoped to have.

But winters in Kaer Morhen were, well for starters they were wintry—outside the windows at Corvo its only a chilly fall at best—and secondly they were a time apart from the world. Holed up in that giant stronghold the witchers were able to ignore the world for a few months every year.

He misses the repetitiveness of waking up every morning with a list of chores to do; Igni the fire back to life, pad down the stairs to get two mugs of hot cider, listen to Vesemir complain that Geralt isn’t even out of bed yet. Eskel smiles fondly to himself at the memory of the old man. So much is changing and it is changing fast.

Turning on his side, Eskel curls around Geralt’s sleeping form. Soft slow breathes escape him and Eskel traces the silvery pink scar on his shoulder—Geralt’s reminder of Duncan. Hidden from Eskel’s view is another over Geralt’s right nipple from Rhys and Eskel knows somewhere deep inside Geralt wishes that he would leave a permanent mark like that on him as well. But Eskel just can’t. The idea of biting Geralt until he bleeds makes Eskel shudder in disgust.

It’s not that the orks don’t care; their attachment to Geralt is palpable. Its a visible thing when the four of them are in a room. Geralt likes this kind of claiming, it makes him feel secure in a way that Eskel tries never to discredit as unimportant. In his own way he claims Geralt all the time, leaving him littered in hickeys and other bruises, that while maybe not permanent, are reminders to Geralt that he belongs to Eskel all the same.


Rousing himself from the bed Eskel is careful not to wake Geralt. It may not be Kaer Morhen but maybe he can still sneak out and bring back something for Geralt to wake up to. Have a warm drink in bed, cuddle back up and be lazy for an hour. Closing the door as softly as he can behind him, Eskel conjures up a little wolf watcher, placing it in front of the door. “Tell anyone who approaches that Geralt and Eskel are sleeping in today.” It can do nothing to stop someone from entering while he is enacting his plan, but at least the little wolf will make them feel bad if they choose to ignore it.

Stepping outside for his morning piss in only his braies is a luxury that reminds Eskel of all the truly wonderful things about Corvo Bianco. He doesn’t rush himself, but he doesn’t linger by the stream along the house either. If Marlene catches him doing this he will surely have to endure another lecture on the virtues of chamber pots. It’s not that Eskel is well aware they exist, it’s that he’s never been a fan.

“I’ve been pissin’ in the woods for over a hundred years, I see no reason to stop now,” he once told her. The disappointment in her answering frown nearly broke him.

The old woman wields guilt like a weapon.

Back inside Eskel tiptoes into the kitchen. Marlene isn’t there yet, maybe she’s still gathering eggs or something else for the day. Eskel doesn’t really know what all goes into her amazing cooking, just that she is always busy and they are always well fed. Grabbing two tankards Eskel scoops a handful of sugar from a bin and splits it between the two. On the shelf he finds the glass bottle labeled anise and removes two whole seeds from it. The seeds crush easily between the wood of the tankards and one of Marlene’s spoons—one in each mug.

Carrying the mugs in one hand, with the spoon still inside one of them, Eskel finds a decent sized clay pitcher and heads out of the kitchen. Out of the front door. A few of the field workers are arriving for the day, but none pay Eskel any mind. Even in just his braies he is a common sight here, one who pays them well. Any who minded have long since been sent away and replaced wordlessly by B.B.. In the front courtyard Eskel spots Lil’ Bleater wandering around and calls her over.

Letting her lick the leftover sugar from his hand he talks to her softly and then begins milking her into the pitcher. Her head butts into his thigh where he is squatted down and he chastises her, “No more sugar, sorry.” Shaking her head haughtily, she wanders off as soon as he is done.


Back inside the house Eskel can hear Marlene bustling around the kitchen now. Sneaking through the dining room he goes to open the door to their bedroom.

“Geralt and Eskel are sleeping in today!” The little wolf’s voice carries surprisingly well, even if it squeaks and cracks like a fourteen year old boy’s.

Wincing, Eskel pushes the door open and steps over the watcher, closing the door with his hip. Geralt is rolling over in the bed, Eskel uses an outstretched finger to swing the wooden latch lock into place.

Blearily Geralt rubs his stubbly face. “What the fuck was that all about?”

“Shh,” Eskel can’t help but chuckle at himself now, “Didn’ you hear? We’re sleepin’ in.” Walking over to the bedside table Eskel sets down all his items. The milk is still warm, but he heats it more with Igni, swishing his fingers in it until it is hot then licking them clean. Dragging himself up to sitting Geralt grumbles something incoherent even to a witcher’s ears, pulling the blanket around his hips.

Stirring the spoon as he adds the milk, Eskel mixes up the sweet licorice smelling concoction. First one tankard and then the other. The rest of the milk he sets aside.

The sound of an exaggerated sniff fills the air. “What is that?” The soft look Geralt gives him when he holds out his hand reaching for a mug tugs on Eskel’s heart. It isn’t Kaer Morhen but Geralt still knows. This is only for him. A slow morning together, Eskel bringing him a warm drink, the chance to doze off and wake back up together.

Eskel hands Geralt the tankard, taking off his braies and taking his own tankard around to his side of the bed. Crawling in he scoots right up next to Geralt and draws him in close, kissing his forehead. “’S Anijsmelk. I learned it from a former Nilfgaardian. She was on the run from family in Mag Turga, went to Skellige to study with the druids.”

“Sounds like a hell of a tale.” Geralt smiles blowing into his tankard and taking a sip. “Shit’s good.”

Feeling a bit unmoored, Eskel turns into Geralt hooking his leg over Geralt’s. His heart squeezes tightly in his chest and for a moment Eskel feels like he can’t breathe. When the air finally shudders out of his lungs, his emotions are left sitting just below the surface, raw and waiting to be touched.

“I miss this,” Eskel blurts out, lips still against Geralt’s forehead.

A soft searching expression is on Geralt’s face when he turns to look at Eskel. “Miss what exactly?”

Closing his eyes, Eskel breathes in heavily, lets it out, trying to let the smell of Geralt comfort him, but the anise is somewhat overpowering. “This. Jus’ havin’ a lazy mornin’. Hot drinks, an’ a cuddle in bed. Ignorin’ the world outside like there’s no one but us two an’ nothin’ else matters for a while.”

“Mmm. I see.” Geralt slurps his anijsmelk and sets it on the bedside table. Taking Eskel’s tankard from him, Geralt sets it down next to his own and then slides back down in the bed. “Come down here and cuddle with me.”

Letting out a defeated sigh Eskel does as he is told. This isn’t what he means, he doesn’t want Geralt to do it out of pity. But Geralt’s hand teases gently through his hair and Eskel finds himself relaxing anyway.

“I love our slow mornings, just the two of us. Anytime you want this, all you need to do is bring me a hot drink.” A hot kiss on the mouth from Geralt pulls a moan out of Eskel that he never intended to let loose. He tastes like licorice. “This is something that will never change, alright?”

Geralt is capturing his mouth again all Eskel can do is hum, “Mmhmm,” back into him.


It is slow and lazy. Eskel lets himself be kissed, lets Geralt rub up against him when the kissing arouses him so much he can’t hold back. Taking them both in his hand Eskel works their lengths together, licking and sucking at Geralt’s neck, grabbing a handful of Geralt’s ass with his other hand.

There is no rush, no push, and no shove. No one is more in control than the other, and Eskel loves it. This is what he craves right now. Fingers run through Eskel’s hair, trail down to pinch at his flat nipples until they bud up, then roll them between skilled fingers until Eskel cries out in pleasure.

Biting his lip, Eskel thrusts faster into his fist, against Geralt’s silky skinned cock. Kissing Geralt, Eskel tugs his lip into his mouth and nibbles at it lightly. Changing hands and wrapping his arm under Geralt’s neck, Eskel pulls him close enough to rest their foreheads together.

It’s the intensity with which Geralt stares into his eyes, that tips Eskel over the edge into that swirling ocean of pleasure. The air is knocked out of his lungs as the waves of ecstasy wash over Eskel, and somewhere through the fog of euphoria hears Geralt’s voice rough with emotion.

“I love you. Always going to love-” Geralt is tensing up in his arms, and hot cum is splashing over Eskel’s hand, “-love you.”

Curling up into a ball against Eskel Geralt tries to hold himself tightly as he comes down. Without even thinking Eskel’s arms are circling around Geralt, heedless of the mess, pulling him in tighter, holding Geralt with all of his strength.

Eskel whispers against Geralt’s neck, “Gods. I love you too. I never wanna lose this.” Their breathing settles together, rhythms matching up, and they doze off with Eskel holding Geralt tight.


When they wake up again, they are crusted in cum. Laughing together, they slowly peel apart, unsticking themselves in the most intimate of places. Geralt wanders to their tub and begins to heat the water with his fingers.

“Damn, drinks are cold now. Wonder if it’s any good.” A sip has Eskel making a face, “Wanna reheat it?” His own hand has dried cum on it and he isn’t about to stick those fingers in his or Geralt’s drink. It might be hot during sex, hours later, definitely not.

Fingers still twitching in the water Geralt smiles. “Yeah. Bring them over and set them on the soap stand, we can finish them in the tub, I meant it when I said that shit’s good.” Holding eye contact Geralt adds, “I also meant it when I said you can have a lazy morning with me whenever you want, just bring me a hot drink to wake me up like you always have.” Smile unwavering Eskel lets it really sink in this time. There will always be us.

Chapter Text

Legs astride of Geralt’s face Eskel ran his fingers into Geralt’s hair, loose and messy, fanned out over his pillow. Winter was coming to an end. His face was…healing. Still not completely healed, it ached constantly and throbbed in the cold wind, but the ragged gashes had closed over finally. Rolling his hips forward Eskel stared down, watching his cock dip in and out of Geralt’s open mouth.

“Shit. That’s…” A desperate moan dripped from Eskel’s torn lips. Hands gripping the headboard tightly he tipped his hips forward and his cock slid deeper into Geralt’s mouth, nudging at the soft wet tissues in the back of his mouth.

There was a muffled gag from underneath him and Eskel glanced down to see Geralt with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, mouth open wide, throat convulsing in an effort to reject his advance. The sound of Geralt harshly pulling in his breath through his nose filled Eskel’s ears and made him groan at the idea of taking this from Geralt, of Geralt giving it to him.

Eskel loved to let Geralt slide into his mouth and rest in his throat. To see the pleasure written on his face when he sat with his knees on either side of Eskel’s own head like this and found his climax in Eskel’s warm mouth. But the damage to his face and his lip had put that out of reach for a long while. When Geralt had offered to let him do the same Eskel had been eager but also knew that it wouldn’t be the quite the same. Geralt was skilled with his mouth, and his tongue, but Eskel was much thicker than the average man and he doubted Geralt could swallow him all the way down.

Pulling his hips back Eskel gave Geralt a chance to catch his breath and to his surprise Geralt whined low and needy at him. “Please? I want to be able to do this for you. Show me?” There was a clear honesty in Geralt’s liquid gold slitted eyes that could drive Eskel to do things.

“’S alright. Feels good like this too.” One hand came down to pet Geralt’s hair again and assure him this was good enough.

Geralt bent his head forward to swirl the tip of his tongue around the head of Eskel’s cock before engulfing it and sucking it, tonguing gently at the tip. Popping off loudly Geralt caught Eskel’s eyes, “I said please.”

“Melitele Geralt.” But Eskel knew he had already lost, he wanted this so bad. Fingertips pressing into Geralt’s forehead he guided it back onto his pillow and let his cock press against Geralt’s wet lips.

Resting his arm across the headboard Eskel laid his forehead on it, looking down onto Geralt. White hair all splayed out over the pillow again, Eskel ran his other hand through it slowly. Geralt opened his mouth and let Eskel in, running his tongue along the thick vein on the underside and rolling it wetly over Eskel’s cock.

“Shit, you so good at this.” Eskel tipped his hips forward again after a moment, letting himself press against the back of Geralt’s throat. The head of his cock rested there and Geralt let out another muffled gag. His lips pulling back, mouth open wide as he tried to suppress a cough.

Hand brushing from Geralt’s forehead down the side of his face, tracing the line of his wide open jaw, Eskel tried to soothe Geralt with his voice. “’S alright. Shhh.” Fingers sinking into the edge of Geralt’s hair, massaging at his scalp Eskel kept his voice low and warm as he talked to Geralt. “Jus’ relax, take a deep breath through your nose. Tha’s it. Let it out.” Eskel’s chest rumbled with moan as he let out his own breath along with Geralt. “An’ another.” This time when Geralt had filled his lungs Eskel pressed his hips forward and down. Cock opening up Geralt’s throat and sinking into it, he could feel the soft tissue there flutter as Geralt gagged around him, trying to force him out. “Shh, shh, try an’ swallow.” His hand went back to petting Geralt’s soft hair, and Geralt’s throat squeezed tight around him as he worked to swallow Eskel down.

“Ahh, ah fuck Geralt. Feels amazin’.” Holding himself extremely still Eskel waited a few seconds until the gagging had stopped gripping his cock, then he slid slowly back out and let Geralt breathe. “So good.”

Geralt licked at his cock quietly moaning to himself. “More please?” he asked softly. Eskel couldn’t deny that earnest look of want and slid right back against the back of Geralt’s mouth. Cock head bumping into Geralt’s throat again and drawing a tiny gag. There was less struggle this time when he pressed his cock down into Geralt’s waiting throat, though Geralt still gagged around him, throat constricting around his cock and making it pulse with need.

Staying a little longer Eskel reveled in the silky soft feel, let his hand wander down to stoke at the front of Geralt’s neck. He looked so vulnerable below Eskel like this and Eskel wondered if that was what Geralt saw when Eskel took him in his throat like this.

A few more slow dips into Geralt and Eskel was losing his mind with arousal, hips rutting forward faster he tried to watch Geralt’s face, his eyes, to make sure he wasn’t panicking as Eskel started to fuck into his throat in earnest. Drawing out and slipping back in to feel it flutter around him for a moment before he withdrew to the pleasure of a swipe of Geralt’s tongue.

Eskel’s orgasm built quickly, a tingling need in his gut that made his balls prickle and his thighs burn cold. Faster and faster he pushed into Geralt’s throat until Geralt gagged hard around him, and the pressure sent him over the edge. Shuddering and grunting, he spilled down Geralt’s throat, hot and desperate, as Geralt struggled to take it all.

When he was done and coming back to himself he saw Geralt below him, cum and saliva messing the corners of his mouth, wet streaks leaking from his eyes. “Oh Gods! ‘M sorry, Geralt!” Eskel scrambled to get off of him without kneeing Geralt. Horrified at the way he’d taken advantage of Geralt in his lust.

Rolling onto his side and cough wetly Geralt only smiled, reaching a hand out to Eskel. “Come back here.”

Shaking his head vigorously Eskel stepped further away, to the water bowl. Heating it with his fingers, and wringing out the rag, he held it out at arms length to Geralt. “I really am sorry, I don’ know what came over me. I shouldn’t hav-”

Geralt silenced Eskel by sitting up, cock still hard between his legs, and grabbing Eskel’s wrist instead of the rag. Pulling Eskel into him, to stand between his legs where he sat in the bed, Geralt took the rag and wiped his face down. Then he kissed Eskel’s stomach.

Gently working the rag over Eskel’s sloppy cock and balls, Geralt continued to kiss Eskel’s stomach softly, one arm wrapped around the back of his thighs to keep him from running away. “Thank you…” Geralt murmured softly against Eskel’s skin.

“For what?” Eskel gave Geralt a bewildered look. “Forcing my cock down your throat?!”

“I loved it, Eskel. I wanted it.” Geralt kissed his stomach. “I asked for it.” Another kiss. “You gave it to me, and I enjoyed it.”

Post-orgasm panic subsiding, Eskel started to see things a bit more clearly. Geralt was still aroused and still touching him. Invitingly even. Geralt was not upset at what he’d just done. And he had asked for it.

Eskel shook his hair out of his face and rand a hand through it. “Fuck Geralt. Sometimes I just don’t know what to expect.” Geralt quietly continued to kiss Eskel’s stomach. “Lay back down, I’ll give you a hand with that.” Eskel grinned one-sidedly and gestured to Geralt’s still hard cock.

Flopping back on the bed Geralt let his legs fall open wide, stiff cock nestled in the valley of his hip. Watching Eskel eagerly as he crawled over the top of him, grazing the back of his knuckles up Geralt’s cock to elicit a moan. “Never know what to expect, but I always seem to like it.” Eskel muffled a laugh against Geralt’s shoulder and circled his hand around Geralt’s cock.

Chapter Text

At first Eskel had been bothered by the gift. Yen dropping by Corvo Bianco under the pretext of wanting to leave a few things for Ciri. Of course Ciri stopped by once in a while to visit, but the girl was out on her own now, leading the life of a witcher on the Path. And Yen was more than capable of finding her out there. She left a letter and a box for Ciri, smiled, and stayed for dinner because Marlene just had to feed everyone, especially a thin lady like that. In a flash of magic and a rush of wind she was gone, back to whatever palace intrigue she had left.

Two weeks later a porter knocked on the door bearing a large mirror, framed in dark mahogany, with twisted scrolling vines and leaves. “Delivery for Geralt of Rivia and Eskel, Witchers?” The porter looked dubious at the idea of a couple of witchers residing in a villa like Corvo.

Eskel raised his good eyebrow at the man as if to say ‘and?’, the door was pulling from his hand though as Geralt pushed around him to smile and greet the porter politely.

“A delivery for us? Well that’s unexpected. Who’s it from?” Geralt stepped out into the sun and looked into the porter’s cart.

“One Yennefer of Vengerberg. It is a mirror-” the porter paused, “-Sirs. Also, there is a letter.” He handed Eskel a sealed envelope and turned around to find Geralt already hefted the mirror up and carrying it towards the door.

The letter wished them well, and expressed Yen’s pleasure at seeing the two of them happy together. It did little to settle the sour taste in Eskel’s stomach. The mirror, as highly prized of a possession as one was, went in the corner of their room, faced toward the wall.

Although Geralt seemed disappointed he didn’t argue where it went with Eskel. Yen had stood between them for long enough that neither wanted to argue about it. As time wore on though and the heat in his chest settled, eventually Eskel turned it around. It was lovely. Well made and flawless in its beauty. He ran his fingers over the scrolled wood, frowning. Covering it with a spare blanket he left it there, in the corner, facing the bed.


“You’re being absurd, there is no spell on the mirror.” Geralt let out an exasperated sigh, head dropping into his hands at the dining room table.

“How’re you so sure? Would you even know if there was?” Eskel countered, trying to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

Geralt looked up slowly at Eskel. “No. She just wouldn’t-” Geralt caught himself, Yen most definitely would given a reason, “-she has no reason to. She doesn’t care that much anymore.”

Eskel couldn’t drop Geralt’s gaze, “But she did once.”

“Yeah, before the Djinn’s spell was broken. Because of the spell.” Reaching out Geralt laid a hand over Eskel’s on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I am pretty sure she wouldn’t waste her magic to watch two old witchers get older.”

Turning his hand palm up to feel Geralt’s fingers, Eskel let himself settle down. “Alright. If you say so, I’ll believe you.”


The only light in the room came from the tall candelabra in the corner by the mirror, Eskel had flicked the rest out with his fingers. His lips caressed Geralt’s neck, the silky skin of his scar traveling down to Geralt’s shoulder in small measure kisses. Head tipped down to allow his mouth to explore Geralt’s skin, tasting the salty sweat there, Eskel’s were cast up, fixated on Geralt’s image in the mirror.

On his knees, legs spread wide with Eskel’s strong thighs bracketing them, Geralt’s cock jutted out proud and aroused in front of him. Watching his own hands explore the exposed insides of Geralt’s pale thighs, set Eskel’s gut on fire with lust. “You’re so good for me. Takin’ me like this, anytime I ask.”

Eskel squeezed the inside of Geralt’s thighs, fingers denting the flesh there, and Geralt moaned from deep in his chest. Head tipped back and to the side to give Eskel his neck, Geralt reached his arms up above his head and behind himself, burying his fingers in Eskel’s shaggy hair.

Every time Geralt’s fingers tightened in Eskel’s hair, Eskel nipped at the tender flesh of Geralt’s shoulder and neck. Tightening fingers and the pressure of teeth, over and over in rhythm with Eskel’s cock slowly thrusting into Geralt’s ass. The slow undulations of their hips visible to Eskel in the mirror made it harder for him to hold himself back, but he wanted to. Wanted to drive Geralt to the edge of madness and gently lower him over. He wanted Geralt to watch him do it.

“Look at yourself.” Eskel drew hot lines up Geralt’s thighs with his fingernails. “Always ready for me. Always needy. Always wanting. I love it.” Geralt shuddered biting his lip to stifle a loud groan as his eyes connected with Eskel’s in the mirror just as Eskel drew his fingernails up the insides of Geralt’s thighs. “I wouldn’ have it any other way. You’re perfect like this, all fucked out an’ wanton.” A particularly hard bite to his shoulder made Geralt’s lip fall from between his teeth and a loud moan worked out of him.

One hand circling the base of Geralt’s aching cock, Eskel’s other draw his fingernails up his thigh, over his hip, up his abdomen, to his chest. Geralt’s breath ratcheted higher and higher the further Eskel’s hand traveled. Eskel finally scratched over Geralt’s nipple, lightly at first, over and over again, then harder as Geralt’s breaths became gulps of air. The harder he scratched the tighter Geralt’s ass clenched around him, and the faster Geralt’s breath came. Soon Geralt was rising up and dropping down onto Eskel’s lost in his own ecstasy, riding it out, desperately trying to bring himself to orgasm.

“Please, Eskel, please. I need this.” The words punched out of Geralt light and airy with with each rough thrust that met him.

The hand that had been holding Geralt back left his cock and scraped its fingernails up to his other nipple to taunt it as well. “Then give it to yourself, beautiful.” Continuing to match Geralt thrust for thrust, Eskel scraped and teased his nipples. Pulling and pinching at them hard. Watching in the mirror as Geralt let one hand fall to his own cock, and stroked himself fast and rough. “Tha’s it. So good.” Eskel was barely holding on to his own self control at the sight.

Geralt was sweaty and frantic, needy and perfect. Racing to the edge and covered in pretty red lines from Eskel’s fingernails. And if Yen happened to have put a viewing spell on the mirror? Eskel grunted as Geralt’s ass clamped down around him and his cock painted the bed in ropes of white. He didn’t stop, stroking himself mercilessly through his orgasm, body pulsing around Eskel and pulling him over the edge right with him. Geralt’s feet flexed where they were tucked next to Eskel’s on the bed underneath them as it become to much and the sensitivity overwhelmed him.

Slumped together on the bed a moment later with Geralt’s legs tangled under Eskel’s and Eskel’s ass on his heels, one strong arm wrapped around Geralt’s belly to keep him from just falling over to the side and off the corner of the bed, Eskel couldn’t help but laugh in his head. Well, if she is stupid enough to put a viewing spell on the mirror, she deserves every show she gets.

Geralt was like a ragdoll in his arms. “C’mon, lets get you laid down.” Eskel murmured in Geralt’s ear, smiling at himself with pride in the mirror. To be able to do this to Geralt, was the best thing in his life.