"Shouldn't I be the one doing this to you, you were the one..." Jaskier breaks off with a moan as Geralt digs his thumb into a stubborn knot in his shoulder, as much as he loves his lute, it does come with downsides.
"I'm fine, she didn't hurt me just... let me have this." His voice is softer than usual, even for when they're alone, and Jaskier thinks back to Geralt mentioning that the monster he fought could make you see things that weren't real, bring fears to life.
After a while Geralt's hands stop, and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to Jaskier's shoulder before hooking his chin over it, reaching down to tangle their fingers together. Geralt turns and presses his face into the bard's neck, and his breathing starts to finally settle. Jaskier brings their linked hands to his lips to brush kisses along Geralt's knuckles and feels him smile against his skin.
As Geralt seems steadier now than at any point since returning from his hunt, Jaskier slumps backwards, letting the witcher take more of his weight and doesn't complain when he tips them sideways onto the bed. They stay like that, Geralt curled up around him, for so long that Jaskier doses off, safe and comfortable in his lover's arms.
When he wakes the light coming through the window is the soft gold of evening and Geralt's arm is a comforting weight across his waist. He doesn't move for a moment, soaking in the feeling both of them being uninjured and unhurried. They'd made enough over the last three days for nearly a weeks worth of board and food, more if Jaskier plays in the evenings, and he can’t wait to take advantage.
Geralt barely shifts as Jaskier disentangles himself, it's rare to see him sleeping so deeply outside the safety of Kaer Morhen. And his quiet, inquisitive mumble trails off as Jaskier brushes the hair out his face, which is immediately ruined by Geralt rolling into the bard’s abandoned space and burying his face in the pillow. Jaskier can't resist reaching out to run his knuckles down his spine before stepping away to pull on one of Geralt's shirts.
It doesn't take him long to check in on Roach and get some food from the innkeep, and Geralt is still curled up on the bed facing the door when he brings the bowls up to the room. He blinks sleepily and pushes himself up to an elbow, smiling and reaching for Jaskier as soon as he’s in range and, yeah, this seems like the perfect way to spend the next few days.