Work Text:
https://linx1457.tumblr.com/post/626308332545884161/i-had-so-much-fun-doing-a-romance-novel-inspired
(Art by Linx)
Sticky.
That's how Geralt felt as he made his way back into the village. It was unseasonably warm and humid this far North. Summer hadn't fully set in yet but the air was thick with dampness. It clung to Geralt as much if not more than the grime and sweat from his hunt.
The sun was just rising above the trees as he had left the village of the Alderman that had hired him two days previous. A strange wraith-like creature had taken to eating and rotting up the crops since the summer previous. Many of the villagers hadn't survived the recent winter, and the Alderman wanted it gone in hopes of preventing more villagers from needlessly dying.
It took Geralt almost all night to track and hunt it down. It was freakishly swift even for a wraith. Its large rotting frame had been swathed in tattered fabric and rotting flower wreaths. Food hung and fell from its body, and when it dropped it ate away at any plants it touched. The unearthly screeching still made his ears ring even a few hours after removing its head. He stunk of the rotting food but it was oddly sweet and overpowering, mixing with the remnants of Cat and making his head pound with every deep breath through his nose.
He was glad to be rid of the rotting head with its flower wreaths tangled haphazardly in the long hair that was coarser than hay but darker than a raven’s feather. Leaving it with the Alderman was almost a blessing.
Geralt was a bit unsettled by how happy and grateful the Alderman was, repeating his thanks several times over and paying him extra coin for the job. Geralt was going to decline the extra until the Alderman’s young granddaughter slipped by and hugged his legs, thanking him for scaring away the creature that took away the food and her parents. She barely was above his knee, all wide eyes and soft wavy hair. Her cheeks should've been thicker and rosier with health but the creature, whatever it was, had taken that from this tiny village. Geralt couldn't say no.
He had spent a good half hour explaining to the young one how he found the creature and fought it so it wouldn't come back and harm the crops or any more villagers. She listened intently to his soft explanation and would ask questions if she didn't understand a word. Her enthusiasm so early in the morning reminded him of Jaskier. He hoped she kept that enthusiasm for the rest of her life. The world would be better for it.
So he had left later than intended but with more coin then expected and a little more hope that he had done something good for once.
He finally made it back to the Inn, his leathers sticking to him and chafing in a few places. He'd have to get them repaired in a few places but for once no damage beyond some scuffing and needing a cleaning. An easier job than expected and extra coin. He hoped this wave of good fortune stuck around for a while so he could buy Roach some new tack and some of the sweet oats she liked the most that Jaskier got her hooked on one spring. She'd be an absolute menace if she didn't get any.
As Geralt opened the door to the main area of the Inn he was greeted by the smell of food, smoked meat, and possibly porridge. It was hard to fully smell anything through the thick haze of rotting sweetness still stuck in his nose but it was a welcome distraction from the pounding behind his eyes that had finally returned to their normal cat-like appearance.
"Ah! You're back well I hope, lad?" came the voice of the Innkeeper, a middle-aged man with long streaks of salt and pepper in his dark hair and beard. He was looking relieved at seeing Geralt in the doorway.
"I am well?" he said cautiously, unsure of what the innkeeper meant, too used to people looking for a weakness to take advantage of.
"Thank the gods!! Are you hungry, lad? Why am I even asking? Of course you're hungry after chasing that devil all night. Come here, have some." The innkeeper waved Geralt over to the bar counter where a row of bowls and plates were, some already filled with food. "It's going to be a long day for everyone with the midsummer festival and blessing of the fields tonight."
As he got closer he saw several plates filled with smoked meats, cheese, and loaves of bread. The bowls were filled with a thick porridge covered in berries and honey. It looked delicious, not something he'd always get on the path. He startled when the innkeeper's wife came around the door into the cooking area with a large steaming pan.
"Henry, dear, I've finished the eggs. Ah, Sir Witcher! You came back in good health, I hope?!" she jovially said, round cheeks sticking out more in a happy smile, her hair in a slight disarray from working in the kitchen.
Geralt simply nodded at her, watching as she removed fried eggs onto each plate, chatting to her husband about things they'd need to do for the festival or guests at the Inn. Geralt was ready to slink off after asking for a bath or at least access to the heating pot when she turned around, hands full of food.
"Here you go, for you and the bard. He's playing today, is he not?" she asked as she handed a double full plate and two bowls of berry porridge. "He called for a bath earlier. It should still be warm. If not, let me know, Sir Witcher. Will you be enjoying the festival? It's a good time of year for finding the right someone if I do say so myself.” She waved him down when he reached for his coin purse.
"Thank you. He will be playing since your bard retired, from what the Alderman said. So I will be attending to make sure that nothing else shows up." He juggled the plate and bowls until he could easily carry them all.
"Oh, nonsense, Sir Witcher, just go enjoy the fair. You did your job already. Go enjoy the fair in celebration of our local fertility and crop god and possibly find your love. A strapping young man such as yourself is one hell of a catch," she said cheerfully, gently patting his arm with a warm smile on her round face.
"I'm a witcher, we don't get married," he said flatly, confusion tinging the words as she added yet more food to the plate in his hands.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find someone dear, as handsome as you are. Here, have some more sausage, you need it. All you have to do is enjoy the fair and follow the flowers to your love. It's that simple," she continued as if he never negated her words, and waved him off with a smile and more encouragement. Her husband chuckled at her behavior, a loving look on his face.
Geralt walked off as the couple playfully bickered as they set up more plates for the other guests. He climbed up the rickety set of stairs to the second-floor rooms. Third door in he heard shuffling from the room as he opened it, Jaskier obviously up and about getting ready for his job at the fair. He was extremely excited about this one, apparently. It was an old nearly forgotten practice around here that he learned about in school - a god that blessed marriages and crops simultaneously during the summer - and he wanted to learn more for one of his stories from the locals and the now-retired bard. They arrived two days early for him to talk to the old man about it. When they came into town they found out about the beast tearing up the fields and Geralt also got some work.
Jaskier turned to him as he entered their tiny shared room, half-dressed in his new light teal cotton pants. They were heavily embroidered with tiny flowers, but only held onto his thin hips by a few thin silk ribbon ties looped through a silver button on his side, the rest hanging unseemly down, and a thinner than usual chemise untied and falling off a broad shoulder. His sleep muddled smile was as bright as the light starting to stream through the window as he looked at Geralt safely returning.
"Geralt! You've returned safely," he said as he quickly made his way over to Geralt, hands reaching towards the witcher, bare feet barely making a noise on the old wooden floor. As soon as the bard was within arms reach Geralt could smell Jaskier's usual spiced cologne and the mild soap they shared. He could feel the lingering warmth from sleep and a bath. "And you've gotten food, fantastic. The bath is still rather warm, not as hot as you'd usually like but with this unbearable heat it should prove to be a nice relief, yes?"
Jaskier divested Geralt of the food, setting it on the spindly table as the Witcher started unbuckling his swords. They quickly got Geralt out of his armor and ready for the bath as Jaskier idly asked about the recent job in the fields. Geralt explained a bit as he finally made it to the tub. Jaskier was right; the bath wasn't as hot as he usually had it but the cooler water felt amazing after the stifling heat and it got the dust and grime off easily enough. He was lulled into a relaxed state by Jaskier’s chatter; it wasn't until a hand gently tapped his shoulder did he focus fully on what was being said to him.
"Geralt, I won't be able to help you fully wash but I can at least help with your hair. I've got to meet with the Aldermen and the local bard about what songs are the most appropriate for this area." He had shrugged out of the doublet, chemise sleeves rolled up a bit, hands already working out knots in Geralt's hair. He looked a bit disappointed that he couldn't do more.
"That's fine. You could finish getting ready. I can take care of it." He was already leaning into the clever fingers rubbing his scalp.
"That so, mister pouty face?" Jaskier chuckled at him, a smile lighting up his eyes. "I have time to help with this and eat a bit before I must leave."
"I'm not pouting."
"Sure you're not, dear friend. Here, lean forward a bit, tilt your head." He worked the soap into Geralt's hair, rinsing and washing it, then smoothing in some oils. He took care of the tangles as he worked, humming softly to himself, possibly working through another song or practicing a new one he heard on their travels. Geralt was half asleep when Jaskier stopped his ministrations.
"There we go, that will do. I've got to finish getting ready. I already put your change of clothes on the bed," Jaskier said with another gentle tap on Geralt's shoulder and a soft look on his face. He got up to go eat as he finished putting his clothes on.
Geralt finished soon after, drying off as much as he could, and wandered over to the bed where he found a black set of clothes he'd never seen before. The fabric was soft and thinner than normal and embroidered with a simple pattern in a soft heather grey thread.
"These aren't mine," he grumped mostly to himself.
"Yes, they are. I got them a while back with this set. Simple, but good for parties and such," Jaskier said around a mouthful of bread, sliding into his light doublet.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, you oversized grumpy cat. It’s simple but nice. Just put it on! I doubt they’ll even let you get away with being fully naked for the whole festival, all things considered. Now put them on, they should fit just right.” He waved his absurd hat in Geralt's direction like shooing a wild animal. It was oversized and poofy with a long dyed purple feather with ribbons intricately tied to hold it to the hat. The Bard continued to get himself ready as Geralt went to look back at the obviously expensive clothes, ready to just find something from his pack.
“Don’t think I don’t notice you contemplating wearing something else. If it's uncomfortable you can change it for something else, but at least try it. Geralt, please, it's a gift.” The soft pleading look on Jaskier’s face is what made him give in. In the end, he couldn’t deny his friend the joy of giving him something.
He finally slipped into the clothes, the fabric light and cool on his skin. It was soft but sturdily sewn. Everything fit just right, with room to move around if needed. Jaskier obviously thought of everything that would be needed. It was definitely nicer than his usual outfits but not glaringly obvious, so he could slip around mostly unnoticed if he needed. The ties matching the heathered grey embroidery were soft and light, almost not there, as he loosely tied them together, wanting his shirt looser to fight off the heat throughout the day.
Geralt turned to see Jaskier finally sliding on his slightly heeled boots, a dark supple leather with large silver button studs on top to loop the ties onto, much like his pants. They sat at his knees, forming nearly seamlessly to fit around his calves. An embossed design of matching flowers wrapped around as well, dyed in a dark green, almost unnoticeable in the dark leather. The boots continued to fit well around Jaskier's feet, the soles thick and practical but cut just right to fit the gentle look of the rest of the boot.
That was also something Geralt had started noticing with Jaskier’s clothes - they were still all ridiculously fashionable, but now more and more practical things had slipped in, from better fabrics to thicker soles on boots. He continued to watch as Jaskier’s hands swiftly pulled and tied up the laces on the other boot. Laces light teal in color, similar to the doublet, weaved silently through the silver rivets, pulling the well-polished leather tight around the lower leg and up. The leather creaked at certain tugs of the lacing until he brought it up and tied it together, looping around the silver stud buttons on each side.
Jaskier stood up after a moment looking at the tied boot. He looked at Geralt, a smile settling on his face as he spread his arms out, a jaunty tilt to his head as he preened in front of the Witcher. “Well, what do you think?” He twisted slightly showing off his boot and the doublet, still grinning.
“Looks ridiculously fancy.”
“Of course it does, it's for celebrations, Geralt.” He chuckled and walked over to Geralt, heels softly clicking on the boards with each step. He adjusted the ties a bit on Geralt's shirt and took a good look at him. “It fits you well. Looks like I got the measurements correct. Do you like it?” He finally looked Geralt fully in the face, earnest and hopeful. It makes Geralt's throat feel thick and useless holding his words in.
"Yes. It wouldn't look right on anyone else." He grinded the words out but they were truer than he'd ever admit, as parsed as they are. He would have liked to say more but couldn’t.
"Of course it wouldn't! I'm the most fashionable bard on the continent!" he said unashamedly as his face lit up like one of Eskels’ famous fire tricks. His hands smoothed out the shoulders of Geralt's tunic, a contemplative sound escaping him. "And do you like your new outfit, because I know you didn't answer my previous question, silly. Try to distract me with compliments all you want, I'll still get my answer." It was true, he could pry words from the dead if so inclined.
"Yes. It's soft and fits well." Geralt tried to be grumpy at the bard's cunning but didn't have the heart for it.
"Yes, good! I made sure it's a breathable fabric with how hot it's been as of late. I swear it's as if the sun is closer than usual, trying to bake us alive," Jaskier said offhandedly as he fixed and fiddled a bit with Geralt's outfit, trying to get it to drape just right here or there.
"I have some time, want me to fix your hair up a bit?" This he said almost timidly, his heart sounding light to Geralt's ears. He couldn't say no to that. Even his heart wasn't that cold, no matter what he said.
"Sure, nothing strange." He stepped away from Jaskier and walked over the table to sit and eat his share of the breakfast, pretending that he didn't see the look of pure joy in the younger man's face.
“Never, my dear Witcher. How could you say such nonsense. Here, sit and eat I’ll take care of everything.” Feigning affrontement with a large smile, he grabbed a comb and set to work on Geralt's hair. Heels making him even taller than Geralt as he sat down and tried to eat.
Jaskier’s fingers worked quickly through his hair, twisting and moving it however he pleased. Geralt just hoped it wasn’t ridiculously fancy, something that would take ages to take out. But not even halfway through his bowl of porridge Jaskier finished with a final touch to his hair.
“There we go, all done. Looking as handsome as ever, my friend.” He winked over his shoulder as he grabbed his ridiculous hat and lute, heels softly clicking on the boards. “I’m off to talk to the Alderman and local bard to see what we can work out. I'll see you later at the fairgrounds. And don’t be too much of a grump to the locals. They’re all very nice here,” he quickly said as he slipped out of the door with a wave of his hand, leaving behind the lingering smell of spiced wine and joy.
“Hmmmm.” Geralt looked at the door like it did something to him for a few moments as he chewed at his food, then shrugged and set about polishing off the food, noticing how much Jaskier had left behind for him to eat in his hurry to get ready.
Geralt finished his food and got up to finish getting ready. He noticed his reflection in the small mirror by the washbasin. He looked fully in it and admired the simple braids Jaskier worked into his hair to keep it out of his face, tied up with a thin ribbon in a similar grey color as the embroidery on his shirt. Of course, he would make sure everything matched. It was similar enough to how he usually tied his hair back but neater and looked more appropriate for a festival. Geralt double-checked to see if he needed a shave but his stubble wasn’t too bad so he left the mirror and got his boots, lacing them on and sliding a dagger into one just in case, knowing that swords aren’t generally wanted at festivals. He gathered the dishes and brought them with him to the main area, looking for the Innkeeper's wife to give them back.
“Sir Witcher, there you are. Did you enjoy the food? Are you still hungry? There's more,” came the joyful voice of the innkeeper's wife. Hands full of food, she moved around other patrons eating at the now full tables and chatting about their plans for the day at the festival.
“It was delicious thank you. No, I'm fine. Everyone is up, I see.”
“Yes, lots to do today still. Oh, look at your fancy clothes! So lovely. So, did you decide to follow the flowers, Sir Witcher?” She deposited plates of food at a table of young giggling maids and took the dishes from him as she kept chatting with him and others. He followed a bit uncomfortably at each curious glance from some of the other patrons.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about but I will be going to enjoy free food and beer and make sure nothing else happens.” He looked at her with his own curious gaze as she once again seemed to think him a regular man.
“It’s as simple as I said, follow the flowers and you’ll get your love as destined by the gods, dear. Go have fun, enjoy yourself. Your work is done and you made it so we can enjoy our festival in peace. Enjoy some rest, it's the least we can do for your help, Sir Witcher.” She said the last sentence louder with a pointed look to some of the ruder looking patrons, and all of the awkward stares stopped, making Geralt feel less watched. A wave of relief settled in the entire room. Everyone now knew the creature had been dealt with.
“Thank you, I’ll try.”
“Ana dear, stop pestering the lad, he’s worked hard. I’m sorry about my wife, Sir Witcher. She gets excited this time of year. It’s how we got married so she tries to get everyone married off.” The Innkeeper came around with pitchers of beer for a nearby table.
“I’m not pestering, dearest, just suggesting he have some fun.”
“Sure, my love. Here, Sir Witcher, enjoy some more food before you go to the fairgrounds; they're finishing setting up the tents still no need to go too soon.” The man waved him over to the counter of food as he went back to helping guests.
“I’m fine. I wouldn’t mind helping actually.”
“Oh, they’ll probably be done by the time you get there, just go have some fun, dear. Here, a snack for the road. Share with that bard, would you? He’ll probably overwork himself out in that heat,” she said as she put a few pastries into his hands and went back to tending to her guests.
Geralt stood there a moment with a handful of wrapped pastries as people hustled about. He shook his head and walked out and into the morning air. Outside people were all around, going about setting things up or loading onto carts to bring food and goods to the fairgrounds. Children ran about playing games as their parents and older siblings continued about their business.
He followed the path various villagers were taking out of town to the fairground nearby. He was either paid little mind or some tried talking to him along the way, mostly the children chatting about odd things or asking him questions of what he was there for. A group of young boys apparently trained a goat to dance around with them along the path as they sang songs.
They all made it to the fairgrounds in quick time, already filled with music and smells of cooking meats. Poles with brightly colored flags were already up, as teams of men pulled up tents and tarps for rest areas away from the sun but in the middle of the festivities. Everyone dispersed into the crowd and Geralt went about looking at things and for Jaskier. Who was, as usual, easy to find, even in a crowded place. His constant noise and trail of cologne lead Geralt right to him.
The absurd hat was practically a feathered beacon in the crowd.
He stood by a yellow tent talking animatedly to the Alderman from earlier in the morning and an old weary-looking man in brightly colored clothes a bit older than the current styles and well worn. He must’ve been the retired bard that hired Jaskier to play. He heard them joking with each other and talked of songs as he got nearer, when something crashed into his leg. More like someone. It was a familiar head of dark waves and bright-eyes, the Alderman’s young granddaughter.
“Do you have more monsters to scare away?” she asked loudly in a curious but mirthful tone. “What do you got in your hands? Is it another head?” Excited, she reached for his hands to see if it was another severed head, curiosity getting the better of her.
“No, I'm here to enjoy the fair, just like everyone else, and these are pastries. Would you like one?” Geralt said softly to her, keeping the pastries just out of her reach so she’d listen to him.
“Brienne! Don’t just grab things from people, that’s rude. Sir Witcher, I’m so sorry about her rudeness. Apologize for snatching,” the Alderman said.
“It’s fine, just sharing.” Geralt spoke before she had to apologize; she was too young to understand. She wasn’t being rude, just being a tiny curious child.
“Are you sure? I don’t want her to be a bother, especially after all your kindness, Sir Witcher.”
“Yes, it’s no trouble.” Geralt held the pastries towards her and let her pick one.
“Thank you, spooky cat man!” she yelled happily, then trotted off to play with the other nearby children and eat her pastry.
The Alderman started to sputter out an apology for the odd name when it was cut off by laughter. It was Jaskier walking over, smelling of mirth and a bit of wine already. The sun shone off of him, practically glowing in it, as the ridiculous feather swayed about with each step, reminding Geralt of peacocks in rich lords’ gardens as they chased the garden hands around.
“Are you scaring the children now, ‘spooky cat man’?” He snorted at Geralt, leaning on his shoulder as he continued grinning like an idiot at Geralt until he noticed the pastries. “Oh, pastries! Are there any strawberry ones?”
“I’m not sharing any with you now,” Geralt deadpanned at Jaskier as he swatted away his hand.
“Awwww, come on, I was only teasing you, softy,” Jaskier whined at him, snatching a pastry from him and eating it while moving away from Geralt, chuckling again.
The Alderman watched on with confusion as they continued to playfully dig at each other, Jaskier munching on the pastries while Geralt acted like he was annoyed. He was spared from further confusion when the retired bard came over to introduce himself.
“You must be the White Wolf. You haven’t changed much since I was a lad. You saved my village from harpies when I was much younger,” the old bard said, thin and grey, but still smiling through the long years.
“Oh, Geralt’s helped you that long ago? Mind telling me the story? Geralt doesn’t tell me anything interesting, I swear.” That got Jaskier to stop pestering him for a few minutes.
“I tell you plenty. You just don’t like my explanations.”
“Yes, because they’re boring and tell me nothing to make good stories or songs about, you clod,” he said as he looked back over to the chuckling old man to ask more questions about the situation with the harpies. Geralt remembered the jobs with harpies well since they weren’t as common but some of the harder ones to deal with, especially with the way they took their victims. He didn’t want any songs about it; they were too vicious to use for a song.
“So you’ve been at this for a long time, Sir Witcher?” the alderman asked, interest piqued by his apparent lack of aging.
“Yes. Longer than I’d like to admit but yes, a long time. Why do so many of you call me ‘Sir’? I’m no official knight across the land.” Geralt ate one of the pastries as the Alderman chuckled.
“Why not? You do what they say they do, saving innocents from great evil. You help people at your own risk, why not give you the respect you have earned, Sir Witcher?” He patted a shocked Geralt on the shoulder. “Come, let's get you your well-deserved ale, Sir Witcher, as thanks for your good work in the slaying of that ghastly terror.”
He followed the Alderman to get some ale and walked around a bit with him as he chatted with the other villagers about this or that. A few of them talked directly to Geralt asking if the creature was truly gone from their fields. He was constantly being handed food or drink from various villagers, told to celebrate the harvest god and the way to true love. A few even just thanked him for taking care of the creature. The group of young lads with the goat tried teaching him their odd game involving the goat and a ball they tossed at the goat so it would headbutt it back at them and the other children to catch.
He had gotten cornered by a few older women trying to convince him to marry their nieces or daughters and was ready to bolt for it when Jaskier’s crisp voice cut through the air in a song about a bear picking up a young maid to lick her hair of honey. All the women started singing along and grabbed each other for a dance. Many of them said they hadn’t heard the song in a long time as they gathered around Jaskier to better enjoy the tune. Jaskier gave Geralt a wink and huge smile over the crowd of women and other villagers as he continued into another song about a billy goat fighting with its shadow.
This continued through the day. They’d keep bumping into each other to chat or grab something quick to eat. Each time they crossed paths Jaskier would look a bit different, from the loss of his hat and addition of a flower crown, to ribbons being tied to the strap of his lute, and then slowly accumulating more flower crowns attached to the lute with more ribbons. Even in a quick passing Geralt would hear another song he’d never heard before, either a local tune or something new from Jaskier playing around on the fly, and see yet another ribbon or more flowers on the lute. At one point Jaskier lost the flower crown and had a few wildflowers tucked behind his ear by some of the children as they asked him questions about his lute or to sing a particular song.
Everyone was joyful and at ease the longer things stayed calm, and the wine and beer continued flowing freely into the evening. Throughout the day and under the setting sun a few small marriages and handfastings happened in different areas of the fairgrounds, the new couples happy and jumping over small bonfires set up for the old ritual. More songs, dancing, and games followed in short order of the setting sun.
Geralt continued to enjoy the fair with its free-flowing food, wine, and beer. It was fine, still no one bothered him beyond idle chatter and thanks for dealing with their earlier problem. All was calm and filled with simple fun, making even his usually tense shoulders lax. Until he couldn't hear Jaskier’s lute-playing, let alone his crisp voice cutting through the thrum of the crowd. He could still smell the bard and his spiced cologne mingling in the air amongst the scents of roasted deer and beef. He cut through the thinning revelers as they either went to sleep in tents or paired off for the night. He wasn't even being subtle in his sniffing about for the other, listening intently until he heard a familiar nervous heartbeat.
Turning around the corner of one of the brightly patterned tents, he saw Jaskier surrounded by what looked to be an old-style wedding party like the ones he vaguely remembered seeing as a child. A young woman stood next to him awkwardly in a light fair dress, nervously looking between him and some other Alderman attempting to look calm while he tried to talk Jaskier into whatever he had planned. A bad choice - no one talked him into anything, ever. Geralt knew from experience how futile that was. You'd end up with the deed to the Novigrad empire by the end of the night. As he got closer he could fully make out the words coming from Jaskier and smelled annoyance in the crowd.
"Oh, I'm quite sure she's absolutely lovely but I'm not interested in being tied down and I would like to get back to playing my music that I was hired to play for the festival. Or would you rather the evening be ruined for the others?"
"Sir Bard, it's only for the year. Certainly not that hard to handle a year with a pretty lass?" The Alderman tried to entice only to be met with a harsh stare.
"Exactly the problem, do you not understand what a no is? She looks lovely but petrified. Leave her be as well, you crock," Jaskier snapped back, heart picking up, making Geralt's ears twitch.
"It's part of the festival and you brought so much joy, might you not bring more for the year?" the Alderman spluttered out, stepping closer to the bard, almost blocking Geralt's view of him.
“I will repeat myself once more since you are seemingly hard of hearing! I am only here for entertainment for the festival, not here for a quick wedding!” Jaskier moved to the side, the bonfire slowly framing him as he tried to discreetly maneuver away from the odd man.
Geralt made large strides towards the encircling group and swiftly situated himself between the aggravated bard and annoying Alderman. His hands itched for a blade as he tried for a placid look but felt his lips try to lift into a full snarl.
“What seems to be the matter here, Alderman? Jaskier, are you alright?” He leaned in as much as he dared towards Jaskier not wanting to lose sight of anyone in the tightening group, mostly blocking the thinner man from the Alderman in thick robes nervously wringing his hands together.
“Oh, not a thing, Sir Witcher, just a simple festival tradition! Nothing to worry over. It is for a good harvest and soft winter. An offering marriage to the local gods.” The Alderman smelled of beer, sweat, and an odd combination of burnt herbs. It raised the hairs on the back of Geralt's neck, something was going on and he had nothing but a dagger on him.
“Oh, posh, you hack! You and your band of weirdos practically dragged me and this young lady over here, nattering on about gifts of gods and all sorts of tripe. I’ve no interest in your drunken mystic nonsense! I’ll be going back to my singing, thank you!” Jaskier snarked from around one of Geralt's shoulders, shifting on the balls of his feet, discreetly observing the group trapping them between the bonfire and the open field towards the festival.
Though his words and exaggerated movements were distracting enough, Geralt noticed the general unease amongst most of the gathering at his lack of respect for their religious leanings. He might be able to talk them out of this if Jaskier didn’t go overboard in his insults and get them back to their inn room in one piece.
“Bard! It is not mystic nonsense, it’s a holy and honorable right to be chosen for the Festival union! How dare you be so ungrateful for the honor of being a part of this important right for the gods to bless us this year!” the strange Alderman spluttered, growing red in the face as he continued on. Several others in the group seemed to agree on getting cross and got closer, disgruntlement obvious as the smell of anger started rising.
This wasn’t good. Why couldn’t Jaskier know when to quiet down.
“That's absolute bullshit and you know it!”
“Jaskier, shut up. Alderman, he truly is not the marrying type. I'm sure you could find some other more than willing lad to festival marry this lovely young maid,” Geralt interrupted and pointed in the general direction of the young woman who kept trying to shrink into herself at all the yelling. He wished he could disappear at this moment just as well. What had his friend gotten himself into this time with his sweet words and dazzling smile that the Alderman wanted to figuratively marry him off during a summer festival of all things?
“No! The bard is perfect, he's so loud and lively in his demeanor, it would please anyone and the gods for a year of happiness! If only he wouldn’t act like a spoiled brat!” he barked out, the redness still not gone from his face, if not darker yet.
“Fuck,” with much feeling said under his breath as he cursed the Alderman for saying those words. He felt Jaskier start to bristle up, ready to spew pure acid at the man.
He grabbed at Jaskier’s teal doublet, the soft fabric straining in his grip as the bard tried to go around him at the Alderman in a fit of rage. He knew if he let the younger man within arms reach he’d get hurt and they’d both be in trouble with the town. He shoved Jaskier behind him and tried to settle tempers.
“Alderman, we’ll just leave. Another should suffice for your needs. I'm sure the bard is tired out for the night after playing all day at your celebrations,” he gruffed out while still holding onto Jaskier and hoping he understood what he meant so they could make a quick escape without causing more trouble. The only problem was they were completely surrounded by the Alderman and his people that closed in even more around them.
So Geralt did the only logical thing he could, outnumbered, and with no swords. He grabbed Jaskier fully and looked for a possible way out of the situation. There was only one way. He just needed his friend to follow.
“Geralt, what are you-?”
“Shut it and follow me.”
“That’s a bonfire, Geralt.”
“Yes, very astute of you to notice. Trust me?” He finally looked at Jaskier and something passed in the bard's face that Geralt couldn’t make out as the man looked at the fire in front of them.
“Of course.” Jaskier looked back, blind trust in the set of his jaw and light eyes.
Geralt smirked then pulled Jaskier closer and shot towards the bonfire, Jaskier quickly following suit, not letting go of Geralt. Over the yells of protest and fear of the others they jumped clear over the bonfire and kept running, laughter bubbling up at some point as Geralt led Jaskier through the remaining crowd and tents. Back to the path leading to the town, they finally slowed down, the full moon lighting most of their way.
Geralt's blood sang with adrenalin and the remains of the alcohol. Jaskier was making rude jokes about the strange alderman and his followers between laughter. Geralt could easily see the mirth in his face and the flush in his cheeks from exertion and his love of wine. His doublet hung open, only held close to his body by the strap of his lute, the gifted ribbons and flowers bunching up by his shoulder, his obnoxious hat long lost at the fairgrounds, soft hair mussed and curled from the heat and sweat.
“I seriously don’t understand people like that, so uptight and following nonsense to the point of endangering others. I do hope the young lady got away, she seemed so nervous though.” Jaskier trailed off suddenly stopping, arm lurching forward in Geralt's firm grasp making the Witcher stop and finally look over at the pensive man. The sight was something to behold, all disheveled sweat sitting on his brow, but the fact he was thinking of the pretty woman from earlier made something scratch inside his chest. He didn’t like it.
“Come, let's get back to the inn before anyone tries to catch up and start more trouble. I’m sure she’s fine, they didn’t seem that interested in her. She probably slinked away in all the commotion,” Geralt tried to reason, suddenly not wanting the red-faced bard standing out in the open, though the light of the moon flattered his features. He tugged again gently at Jaskier's arm, pulling the attention of those bright blue eyes to him. He had a sudden want to have nothing but those eyes and Jaskier’s attention on him.
Jaskier followed along as usual in their friendship, fully trusting of Geralt to lead him on the darkened path as he kept looking curiously at Geralt. The flush on his skin not leaving; his heartbeat still rabbit fast. Anticipation thrummed through Geralt but for what he wasn’t sure. Instead he continued to lead Jaskier down the dark path towards town.
“Geralt.” A murmur.
“Hmm?” Geralt watched Jaskier out of the corner of his eye as they continued on.
“Thank you for finding me. I’m sorry if…. If your fun got ruined.” Soft and unsure, he leaned in closer to Geralt, shoulders nearly touching, leaving his arm in Geralt's loose grasp. The 'because of me' not said.
"You didn't ruin anything Jaskier. The night was winding down anyway." Soft but heard by the lingering bard, head practically on Geralt's broad shoulder.
"Oh good, good! I never want to kill any fun, it's the exact opposite of my job!! Did you try those fried strudels from the old washwoman?!" Jaskier said jovially, and continued to chatter on about this or that about the fair, from food to a young maid's pretty dress to the children trying to get people to join in on their games. "Don't think I didn't notice you playing with the children, Geralt, it was absolutely sweet of you."
Geralt continued to lead them along letting the bard cling to him as he continued his tales of the fair, the ribbons tied to his lute fluttering about as he'd swing his arm in wide gestures. Geralt let it all wash over him, keeping a close enough ear to 'hmmm' and comment in the appropriate areas to keep Jaskier talking; he'd never admit his love of the constant chatter signaling a happy bard and friend.
They made it safely into the village and to the inn with little issue, a few times trying to stop Jaskier from yelling loudly about something and failing as they laughed together, and through the unlocked inn door. They were a tangle of chatter and limbs as Geralt carefully closed the door to the main room, Jaskier still talking, hands playing with the ties on the witcher's sleeve, pulling and twisting them around his limber fingers.
"Quiet, the others should be sleeping." He looked down at the bard now resting his head on his shoulder, mischief in his bright eyes. His handsome face was still overly flushed, his curling hair clinging to his lashes as he looked up at Geralt.
"I'm not being that loud you oaf, you step about like a bull," Jaskier stage whispered at him, keeping close, the still lingering bits of his cologne settling in Geralt's nose with the smell of his obvious joy at teasing him.
Geralt's hand moved towards Jaskier, going to push the stray curl from in front of his face he’d been letting grow out, claiming it was all the fashion pretending it wasn’t to save the extra coin on the path just in case. Geralt did like the extra length but he’d rather fight a kikimora without any potions than tell Jaskier that. Before his hand could reach the loose strand a great clatter startled them, both turning towards the noise in the half-lit Inn common area. Jaskier practically jumped out of his skin, somehow clinging closer to Geralt, hands clasped as tight as possible onto his arm, heat radiating from them like a brand.
“Oh goodness, you lads are still up then?” The surprised innkeeper's wife stood there, clothes all askew and red-faced, her husband clamoring behind her equally disheveled, bumping into a cabinet, large bottle of what looked to be homebrew clutched in one large hand.
“Ah, my dear, I found the bottle of… Oh, you’re both back well, I hope,” he stammered, a bit dazed, but seemingly pleased with himself as he walked over to his wife to show her his find.
“Do you need anything?” she asked as she swatted her husband's other hand away from her, immediately in hostess mode. “Would you like any food or drink?”
At fully being addressed, Geralt found his senses and responded a bit sheepishly even for his usual gruff demeanor. “No, we’re fine, ma’am. Just got back from the fair. We’re just going to turn in for the night.”
“That so, how about a bit of something anyway,” she said with a gleam in her eyes as she puttered to the doorway of the cooking area still chattering about this or that. Her husband just stood there watching her lovingly as she went about her business, which was, apparently, finding something for the two men standing in the common area. She quickly came back with a plate of cheese, meat, and bread and a rather large pitcher of beer. “Here you lads go.” All cheer and warmth.
“Thank you very much, how kind of you,” Jaskier cut in before Geralt said anything, taking the proffered plate and beer just as cheerily back.
“Of course, dear. Come, Henry, let's get off to bed,” she quickly said as she grabbed her husband with his liquor. “Have a fun night, lads!” she tossed over a half exposed shoulder as she continued shepherding her now interested husband back to their sleeping quarters.
“What a cheery but odd couple don’t you think, Geralt?” Jaskier said from his still mostly tucked position to Geralt's side, hands full of free food and more beer, a soft smile on his face at their apparent fortune.
“Let’s just get back to the room before more strange things happen, Jaskier.” He feigned annoyance but by the glimmer in Jaskier's blue eyes, he failed miserably, as the man followed behind him up the stairs to their room making idle talk and ‘discreetly’ sipping from the pitcher, enjoying the fresh beer on the way up.
As soon as they got past the threshold Geralt turned to look at Jaskier putting their gifted food onto the wobbly table in the dark. The fire banked low as he went to light a candle. Watching Jaskier half stumble was oddly endearing as he fixed where things went on the well-worn wood. Geralt stepped closer to Jaskier to fully look at the food and partially drank beer only to feel a familiar curious gaze on him.
“What?”
“Mmmm?” Jaskier once again encroached into Geralt's space but it didn’t bring its usual annoyance or confusion, it felt right. His gaze bright, almost feverish, his face still flushed down his long neck.
“You keep looking at me like that and I’ll think something is wrong with you.”
“Like what?” Jaskier was practically touching Geralt's body with his own, barely an inch between them; it made him hyper-aware of the heat and smell of the other. So close but so far.
“Like… Like I did something worth looking at.” The words worked their way out before he could stop him. Maybe he did have more to drink then he thought earlier.
“You always do something worth looking at, Geralt, why would you think otherwise?” A saddened but curious tilt of his head making the candlelight wash over him. Sincerity and the smell of sunflowers rolled off him. Why must he always be so honest and sincere? It did something to the creature that seemed to make a home in Geralt's chest this night. Making it roil and snarl scratching at his ribs while it clawed its way up his throat.
“I don’t truly...”
“Stop right there. You think too little of yourself and it hurts sometimes. You’re like moonlight, Geralt, you know that?”
“Moonlight?”
“Yes, moonlight. There when we need it most but often forgotten and unappreciated. That’s not fair to the moon, is it? After all it does for us?” Jaskier was now a breath’s width away, looking directly at Geralt, his face soft from candlelight, eyes still oddly bright but slightly unfocused as if looking through Geralt straight to his soul. He stood there, stance defiant as if challenging Geralt to say otherwise. He didn’t have the heart to argue with him, endearment settling warmly next to the creature in his chest, settling it with a quiet melody.
“No, it’s not, I suppose,” he sighed out, feigning indifference.
“It most definitely isn’t, Geralt.”
Geralt leaned closer, breathing in everything Jaskier was. He had an almost desperate need to have everything Jaskier was and could be in that moment. It almost frightened him, if it weren’t for the sheer sincerity and trust and that bit of something else that was just Jaskier to calm him just as much to balance it out.
"Geralt, it's simply not fair," Jaskier said, voice soft but now cracking at the edges.
"What's not fair, Jaskier? " Geralt leaned in further feeling if he was too far away Jaskier would disappear. Where to? He wasn’t sure but he couldn’t allow it.
Something in the moment between breaths snapped as Jaskier took a shuddering deep breath and a rush of words flowed from him.
"It's simply not fair how pretty you are. Look at you with your pretty shiny eyes like lamplight. Your eyelashes are so fucking long I worry that if you blink too fast you'd fly away from me."
Jaskier whined seemingly more drunk than earlier as he pushed his face into the side of Geralt's jaw, finally leaning fully into the sturdier body in front of him, gripping the front of the loosely laced shirt.
"Your hair reminds me of those tiny garlic flowers, all soft and white, they smell so nice, Geralt. You're so pretty I can't stand it. I just want to gather you up and hide you away from all the stupid, mean people that don't deserve your help, just like the moon on the path. You're so beautiful and strong and kind, it's not fair that you don't think so. But I'll think it and show it enough for the both of us. I promise, alright?!" The words slurred together in a rush of affection and need to ensure Geralt didn't interrupt with his usual grumping and denial.
"You're drunk, Jaskier." Geralt nuzzled into the soft hair offered to him by Jaskier’s nape breathing deeply, reveling in the smell of him, the heat pressing to his lips.
"No, I'm not drunk, just a tad dizzy and I'm saying the truth, you oaf. Stop trying to change the direction of what I’m saying." A playful swat of a thin hand to a thick pec, a soft huff of annoyance, it would pass as always like a spring breeze.
“You sure about that? You’re seemingly extra poetic tonight and you’re usually not this clingy,” Geralt said into the soft neck in front of him, hands sneaking to rest on a deceptively trim waist. He couldn’t stop himself from finding some way to get closer and closer to Jaskier at this point, almost wanting to crawl into him and stay there.
“Okay, I change my mind, you’re a stinky bastard, Geralt of Rivia.” Jaskier leaned back a bit to attempt a pout at Geralt but failing miserably, a smirk settling on his face instead.
Geralt was unpleased with the sudden distance between them - not much but enough to be annoying in his quest to crawl into the spaces of Jaskier’s body.
“It's not like you’re doing any better, mister grabby hands. I can also hear you sniffing at me like a hound. Do I smell that bad?” Jaskier pulled a face as he tried to sniff at himself.
“You smell fine.”
“Only fine, that's not good either. Maybe I should’ve asked for some bathwater?”
“Jaskier.”
“Though they did seem to be having their own fun tonight. Don’t want to interrupt and all that.”
“Jaskier!” A growl.
“Yes, Geralt?” Faux innocence and calm oozed from him but his attention was at least back where Geralt wanted. His attention was back on the witcher.
“You smell like I want to sink my teeth into you and not let go.” Why in the fuck couldn't he keep his mouth shut?
“Oh. Oh, well, you do have rather large, bright teeth for that. Might not be such a bad idea yet, my dear.” Jaskier once again was all in Geralt's space, a hungry look on his face and the scent of something as surprising as his words hitting Geralt's nose, making his head spin with how quickly he reacted to it.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“By the gods, Geralt, I’ve been flirting with you for well over a decade and now you finally notice? Maybe I should talk of your good looks and tell you to bite me more often if it’ll get you like this.” Eyes mirthful but still fever hazed, one hand played with the loosened ties of Geralt's shirt, the other crawled a burning trail up to his shoulder, up his neck, and into his day tangled hair. Jaskier’s hips barely brushed against his, a tease of dawning need.
Geralt’s mouth ached and his hands held on harder to Jaskier’s waist just above his hips.
So Geralt did the only thing that made sense when Jaskier tilted his head playfully, exposing the soft column of his neck. He swiftly took a mouthful of supple flesh and bit down. Instead of a yelp and shocked movement away, he was pulled closer by his hair as Jaskier’s entire body rose up to meet his hungry mouth with a loud moan into Geralt's ear.
"Oh, gods yes." He pushed even closer, one hand holding onto Geralt's shoulder, the other further tangled in silver tresses. His head flopped to one side as he continued to keep Geralt latched onto his neck. "Gods, fuck, Geralt, keep, just yes."
Geralt continued to suck and sink his teeth further into the writhing man in his embrace. He pulled Jaskier’s hips towards his own and was rewarded with sweet friction and an even sweeter moan deep from Jaskier’s chest. He let out a matching one, muffled into his mouthful of bruising neck.
Jaskier kept trying to pull him closer and only kept grinding them both deliciously together, hips slotted together, both ruining the insides of their pants judging by the smell of precum hitting Geralt's nose. Geralt went to pull away only to be held to a red and purpling neck.
"No wait, I like..."
"Oh, I noticed." A rough roll of hips together brought stuttering breaths and shivers. "I would like to bite the rest of you, if you want?" Voice going soft and unsure if this would break whatever spell made this happen and cause Jaskier to be disgusted with him.
Clever fingers tilted his head at his nape and chin to look fully at Jaskier and he was met with a look so soft and filled with something Geralt was afraid to name even in the darkness of his mind.
"Oh tender heart, I would enjoy that and more if you're so inclined?" The soft heated look from Jaskier reminded Geralt of a self-satisfied fox after a hunt. From the fluttering in his chest it seems he was caught and he was absolutely fine with it.
The creature in Geralt’s chest found contentment in that gaze and the heat of Jaskier's hands all over him. He could get used to this all too easily, not wanting to give up this contact that was being so freely given he’d savor every last second of it.
Before he could do something else Jaskier swiftly captured Geralt's lips with his own, softly at first but quickly gaining in hunger. Geralt was content with letting Jaskier happily lick into his mouth, enjoying the attention for once. He'd enjoy this as long as possible, give back just as much given.
This might be his only chance to indulge in his want for the person closest to him outside of his fellow witchers. Geralt let his hands wander around the warm body in front of him, tugging and moving cloth out of his way to touch soft skin dappled with thick hair that felt nice against his fingers. The obscene sounds coming from Jaskier were muddling up his thoughts as much as the wine from earlier and the delectable smell lingering on the bard. Geralt sucked in a deep breath as Jaskier bit onto his tongue gently and pulled it into his own mouth to suck on. That's when it hit him.
Want.
It was want that was rolling off of the other man mixed with his arousal and cologne.
Jaskier wanted him.
He picked up Jaskier holding him close, hands full of the bard's ass. The moan and spike of want turning into need fueled his own hunger further, greedily taking everything Jaskier was giving him.
He swiftly moved them over to the bed and placed Jaskier on it, draping himself over the busy man trying to do everything to distract him. Jaskier's clever mouth pulled noises from Geralt like a song.
He slowly pulled away to take a good look at the younger man properly in the lamplight. Jaskier looked much younger in the soft flickering yellow, all his harsh lines rounded by the darkness. Doublet and open chemise rolling off his shoulders, hair mussed about his red face, his mouth delightfully wet. He deserved more than this hard life of the path. He deserved soft things. Something sat nastily in Geralt's throat at the thought of Jaskier anywhere but alongside him on the long winding path.
"You're thinking too loud, lovely." Barely above a whisper. If Geralt were anything but a Witcher he'd have missed it along with the stutter of a heartbeat.
"Hmm?" If he ignored it he could just enjoy this moment, no matter how fleeting.
"Oh how verbose, Sir Witcher." A soft chuckle and a warm hand pushing a stray strand of hair behind a sensitive ear, that look back in his eyes, that made Geralt feel exposed like a wound to the side.
"Jaskier..."
"I swear if you say anything like me deserving more than you I will stab you then stitch you up while calling you my amazingly oblivious love. You do realize that if I didn't want to be here I wouldn't, right?"
"You'd probably stab me wrong and hurt yourself instead."
"You ass! That's not the point! And I know how to use a knife. You taught me that one time after those bandits at... Oh, stop changing the subject, you whiley wolf." Jaskier pouted at him as he chuckled at the bard's usual over-enthusiasm, trying and failing to stifle his laughter into Jaskier's shoulder.
It was just enough distraction for Jaskier to flip them over so he had a lapful of faux annoyed poet. The man looked down at him with obvious contemplation, hands once again making a home in Geralt's hair. Petting and working out knots with practiced ease, Jaskier carefully chose his words, keeping his body close but far enough away as to not distract from anything. Not that it was helping, with the need still growing and burning in Geralt's gut at the beautiful sight before him. He wondered if this is how religious men felt looking at statues of their gods as they were on their knees.
A quick change in Jaskier's eyes piqued his interest as a wide secretive smile set on his face. With intent, but slowly, Jaskier slid from Geralt's lap and down between his long legs, never looking away. He settled as if he'd always been there as his fingers teased at the buttons of Geralt's pants.
"I'll just have to show you, won't I?" A coy tilt of his head made his hair flop into his eyes, blocking them partially, but displaying the bruising mark on his neck, a silent invitation to overly large teeth.
Geralt watched as Jaskier nimbly undid his britches, exposing him to the air in the room. He hissed at it feeling so cold compared to the previous confinement. Watched as Jaskier gently touched his cock, soaked already in precum, from base to top, playing with the head with the tips of his fingers. Pleasure pushed its way through him at every touch and drag of the calloused hands, a haze settling again in him as he saw the intense look on Jaskier's face as he concentrated on what he was doing to the heavy cock in front of him.
"Jask…" A trembling breath as he barely ghosted his fingers against Jaskier's cheek.
"I'll show, you tell, my witcher." That was all the warning he got before Jaskier swallowed him down into that warm mouth.
"Jask….. fuck." He could feel how Jaskier's mouth barely held him there and it forced a growl from him at how nice it felt. That pleased Jaskier, as he moaned and shuffled even closer and somehow took more of Geralt in but didn't move from there. Geralt looked down at the piercing blue eyes of the bard that looked back slightly watery and lust-filled. They stared at each other a moment and he tilted his head trying to understand.
Oh.
“'I show, you tell.'”
Heat raged through him at the realization. Jaskier wanted him to voice his pleasure in this. To ask for what he needed. No one asked him what he wanted but Jaskier wasn't just anyone. Always aware of him even when it would be inconvenient for the bard. Geralt could feel the words accumulating behind his teeth, a pack of starved beasts lashing against his tight jaw.
The look in Jaskier's eyes did him in. If this is how he goes then so be it. Let it be in pleasure with this impossible human.
"Jask…" he carded his fingers through soft hair to get a clearer look at Jaskier, blush taking over his features fully. Geralt memorized Jaskier's curious but playful look with his mouth full of him, wanting to remember it later on the lonely nights on the path.
A deep shaky breath.
"Jaskier, please more." The ripple of need in it startled Geralt but he had to be honest - it was what Jaskier deserved and all he could give.
Jaskier let out a pleased moan and sucked hard as he started to move on Geralt's dick, laving his tongue on the underside as he neared the tip and paying special attention to the head. He pulled pleasured sounds from Geralt as he stayed teasing it for a good moment, making the witcher’s head spin.
"Yes, just like that. Harder." Geralt played with the curling hair in one hand, the other gently cupping Jaskier's jaw in silent awe as it worked on him, feeling the muscles bunch and release.
Jaskier did just that, sucking as hard as he could in between paying attention to the sensitive head. Geralt continued to babble out his pleasure, even as spit mixed with his precum dripped from Jaskier’s mouth and covered his face and ran down his neck into his chemise. Geralt’s words flowed faster as he got somehow harder at the lovely mess that Jaskier was becoming. Spit and pre-cum stained Geralt's pants and Jaskier's fancy clothes. Always all put together just right, Jaskier on his knees covered in a mixture of them both got the beast in Geralt's chest ready to howl and devour him.
Jaskier's teeth grazed his head when Geralt's hips bucked on their own and into Jaskier's cheek. Jaskier stilled a moment at the pained hiss to check on Geralt, feverish eyes tinged with worry, body taught, hands squeezing at Geralt's thick thighs.
"No, keep going, feels good."
A raised brow.
"Please, gods please I know you won't bite it off. Just…. Fuck." He pushed his hips again into the willing mouth, teeth once again grazing him, sending sparks of harsh pleasure up his spine. "Please don't stop, I'm so close. Jaskier, please. Your mouth."
"Please." Desperation.
One of Jaskier's hands started moving on Geralt's thigh, petting it, soothing him down as his mouth went back to work once again, setting a sloppy harsh pace, teeth occasionally grazing Geralt to pleased moans and growled out praises.
Geralt went to pull out as he felt the pleasure tightening in his gut, hand tugging on Jaskier's hair attempting to pull him away before he spent. Jaskier instead pulled himself towards Geralt, hugging himself close and nestling the cock deep into his throat as Geralt came. Jaskier swallowed as much as he could down. Satisfaction radiated from him as he slowly pulled off, once again holding eye contact with Geralt, mouth obscenely wet with spit and cum.
Geralt put both hands on either side of Jaskier's head, fingers tangling with the mussed hair and pulled Jaskier up towards him, capturing the soft mouth with his own in a searing kiss. Delving his tongue deep, he searched for all traces of himself he could, both men moaning at the mingled taste and pleasure of being so close. He pulled Jaskier with him onto the bed. Once again covering the other with his body, nuzzling and kissing anywhere he could reach, tugging at the teal doublet and stained chemise. It was when Jaskier slipped his hands down into his pants and grabbed his ass, a finger brushing his hole did he finally snap.
“You unbearable tease. Always flouncing around like a brightly colored bird. When like this… like this you’re beautiful.” He captured Jaskier's mouth with his own again, devouring the long whine from Jaskier, ripping open the chemise so his hands could better grab at the body under them. He continued grabbing and scratching at Jaskier who kept pushing into it making more loud noises of pleasure. He latched onto Jaskier's throat again as his hands made their way from hairy chest down soft sides to play at the hem of the teal pants. He grabbed the ties from the silver button on one hip to tug at the laces, but they didn’t budge. Slowly removing himself from Jaskier's neck and the bard’s grabby hands, he leaned up to look at the pants and tug once again at them.
The ties went around to the back.
He looked up to be met with Jaskier's wide grin, utterly disheveled, neck and chest still wet with spit and cum. Eyes bright and filled with intense mischief when he saw Geralt staring at his handful of ties.
“So, you going to do anything about that?” A raised brow and a slight shake of his hip had Geralt flipping over the other onto his stomach to see where the ties went.
Geralt inhumanly growled as he got dangerously hard again as he saw they were tied up the back of the pants, teal ribbons tied in a perfect set of loops resting right in the small of his back. He could distantly hear Jaskier chuckling at his turned on distress, his face half in the pillows.
Jaskier slowly raised himself onto his knees, smirking face still half in the pillows. He peered over his shoulder at Geralt as he shook his raised ass at him. “Well, it’s not going to untie itself.”
With a quick swat at one cheek and a yelp, he blanketed Jaskier again with his whole body slotting their hips together, mouth right at Jaskier's ear. “I want to feel the heat of you under my hands for as long as you'll let me," Geralt rasped into Jaskier's neck and he roughly ground his hips into his ass earning him delicious sounds. “But you’re being quite a brat about it, aren’t you?”
“Am not, just need you to get on with it already or I’ll do something drastic,” Jaskier moaned out, pushing back into Geralt trying to feel as much of him as possible.
Geralt growled at him again, mouth biting down at the soft skin at Jaskier's nape. The young man stilled immediately, shiver running up his spine, moaning so loudly it shook Geralt. He groaned around his mouthful of flesh, pleasure singing through him at the sign of submission. Of the sign of need burning through him just as much as the lust that was running through his veins like a potion.
He let go of the soft skin in his mouth, nuzzling and licking at it to a litany of pleased sounds and slurred words from the bard. Slowly he stretched out again to take a better look at the pert ass in teal pants with the ties sitting tantalizingly above it as if trying to frame it just right. He wouldn’t be all that surprised if Jaskier took the time to center it so for such an effect. He was dramatically meticulous when he wanted to be.
Slowly Geralt moved his hands from Jaskier's flanks towards the ties, feeling the heat coming from him through the fabric, doublet and torn chemise pooling at Jaskier's shoulders as Jaskier tried to lift his hips more into Geralt's hands where they had stopped their exploring path at the neatly tied loops.
He took his time untying them, taking enjoyment from Jaskier's squirming and noises, knowing the anticipation was getting to the younger man, smelling his impatience. Smelling the sheer desperation rolling off him made Geralt's mouth water, spit pooling in his mouth. The needy creature from before clawed away at his chest again, making him want to bite a trail up the long line of freely shown back. Pulling the ties loose fully from the rivets in the pants felt like ages but he was rewarded with the glorious reveal of smooth skin and a completely bare ass.
Jaskier had no underclothes on.
Jaskier had no underclothes on and the flaps of the pants framed his ass perfectly. He was practically presenting it to Geralt, the light color complimenting his pale skin well and the red spot where Geralt had spanked it earlier still visible.
Geralt took a deep grounding breath. Jaskier turned to say something to him.
Geralt separated Jaskier's asscheeks and dove right in in complete abandon, no longer able to hold back. His tongue laved around Jaskier's hole, making Jaskier make a reedy noise, a hand shooting into his hair taking turns pushing and pulling him more into Jaskier's ass, almost unsure what he wanted more of. Geralt continued to lick, suck, and nip at Jaskier's ass, eliciting all sorts of wonderful noises from the bard. He pulled the wriggling hips closer to himself, diving his tongue into Jaskier's hole. To gain leverage he lifted slightly, earning an extra loud and long moan followed by a drawn-out ‘Melitele's tits’ from bitten lips.
“Geralt. Ohhhhh gods, Geralt, more just like that, please.” A tug at his hair to pull him closer still.
Geralt removed one hand from slim hips to bring it to a wet hole. The other arm held Jaskier fully by the waist as he continued squirming needily in his grasp. Geralt swirled it around Jaskier's rim slowly as his tongue continued its exploring and slowly added it in next to it.
“Fucking hells Geralt!” A painful tug on his hair as Jaskier went taught for a moment then turned into mush, moaning like a well-paid whore. Geralt chuckled at the reaction, pride filling him at seeing the needy but relaxed reaction.
“Oh shut it, you fucker, just keep going. Yes. Just like that.”
Geralt added another finger to Jaskier's greedy hole as it pulled at him, body needing and wanting more, faster in its honesty than his clever mouth. He continued methodically until he had three fingers sloppily moving in and out of Jaskier, tongue still wriggling as much as it could in the stuffed hole. Spit dripped down Jaskier's thighs into the pants, bleeding into the precum leaking into them from Jaskier's still confined cock. He could smell how turned on the other was, could feel it in the shaking in his thighs making him want more. Could feel the weight and heat of his cock rubbing against his arm through the ruined pants.
A sharp tug at his hair pulled him from his task of making Jaskier moan himself hoarse. He tried going back to eating Jaskier out but the tugging was insistent. “Geralt. Geralt, please, I can’t last, I need a moment,” was slurred out at him by Jaskier, shivering like he was in a cold wood though he was flushed just about everywhere. Especially his rosy ass cheeks, Geralt's stubble rubbing a bit of it almost raw in his rush. Jaskier was taking heaving breaths, hair plastered to his sweaty flushed face. It was beautiful how wrecked he was, how tears clung to his long lashes as he tilted his head back trying to catch his breath.
“Please, I want to last. I won’t if you keep up like that, not everyone has your fancy stamina. Geralt, I’m young but not that young,” he snorted out between deep breaths.
“I’m sure we can manage, Jaskier. Let me take care of you, we have all night. I'm sure I can get you to cum again before first light,” Geralt rumbled out into Jaskier's hip.
“Well, when you put it that way, please do go on. Gods, my pants are going to be ruined by the end of this, aren’t they?” Jaskier huffed out after a quick glance at where Geralt's arm was resting against his waist, pants dark along the crotch.
“You’ve got other pants to wear later,” Geralt said as he went back to his spot between Jaskier's cheeks.
“Other pants? Geralt, these are expensiii-- Oh, fuck! Yes, just like that!” All thoughts of yelling at Geralt about however much he spent on the pants were wiped away as Geralt once again laved at his hole, with his fingers pushing just right into him causing Jaskier to cry out.
Geralt continued smugly to eat out Jaskier, pushing his fingers into the same spot over and over, gaining more satisfaction with each hitched breath and half-formed moan. Jaskier’s shivering intensified as Geralt smelled his pleasure nearing. The way Jaskier was clenching on his fingers was all the warning he got as Jaskier finally came in his pants. Thin fingers tangled in his hair tugging at him as Jaskier's moan rang out in the silent room like thunder. If the others in the inn didn’t know what they were up to before they certainly did now. Geralt gently pulled his fingers from Jaskier as he slowly lowered the blissful man onto his stomach, hips settled on Geralt's thighs to keep him from pressing down on his spent cock. Long, still clothed and boot-covered legs framing Geralt's hips and stretched out on the bed.
Content noises came from him along with a fresh wave of something. A soft smell almost unnoticeable with all the other smells mixed together at this point. The mixed smell of them both after coming; the scent of lust and need. This was something soft and light. Like sunlight and fresh flowers. With a deep breath and leaning closer Geralt still couldn’t pin it down but he needed more of it. It was coming from his bard so he leaned even closer to continue smelling the tantalizing scent, occasionally leaving a nip or kiss on exposed skin.
“Insatiable,” Jaskier chuckled at him and twisted around a bit, legs tangling around Geralt as he leaned up for a kiss. Doublet and ruined chemise pooled around his shoulders he got his kiss.
Geralt kept languidly kissing into Jaskier's willing mouth. One hand gently touching and petting exposed skin, finding a few ticklish spots until it made its way to Jaskier's groin and felt how hard he was. They both groaned at the contact to the overstimulated flesh. Geralt felt a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest at it.
"Who's so insatiable now? I've caught you, clever fox." He nuzzled and licked at Jaskier's neck as he ground himself on Jaskier's spit covered ass, the slide almost smooth.
"Keep talking like that and I'll have to let you chase me down at some point," Jaskier panted out and ground back into Geralt. "I'm not usually so quick to get back up like this. Oh, keep touching me just like that."
Geralt felt a rush of want at the idea of chasing Jaskier down, having him be as winded and covered in grime as when he comes back from a hunt. Geralt bit down on Jaskier's shoulder again as he fondled his leaking cock through the pants, enjoying the squirming, pushing them closer together, and he was suddenly reminded just how hard he was, how much he was aching for Jaskier as he continued to slide against his soft ass, cock head catching occasionally on Jaskier's hole.
"Like that idea do you, my Witcher?" Jaskier breathlessly said, grinding himself into Geralt, wanting more.
Geralt let out a groan between bites, adding more marks to Jaskier's neck and shoulders. He slipped his hand into Jaskier's pants and finally touched Jaskier's wet cock. The debauched noise that came out of his mouth could've brought a whole kingdom to its knees. He kept stroking and teasing him, reveling in each sound and the smell of his pleasure once again, reaching close just to stop, pulling his soaked hand out and earning annoyed noises and a slap to his arm. He chuckled at Jaskier's desperation as he brought his soaked hand back to his lovely ass and teased at his hole again, cum helping add smoothness to his fingers sliding in causing the Bard to continue making those wonderful noises for Geralt. He kept at it until, once again, he smelled how close Jaskier was and stopped, slowly pulling his fingers out to let him calm down.
"You fucking bastard, stop teasing me. For fuck’s sake. Just fuck me already, by the gods Geralt, I'll-"
"You'll what?" he teased back as he played with the globes of Jaskier's ass.
"I won't let you anywhere near me for a week and I'll sing songs about how stinky you are," he bit back breathless.
"No you won't, those both would hurt you and you're no masochist, nor do you like messing with your life's work, try again." He chuckled at Jaskier's whining and grumbling about him being right.
"Gods, just fuck me. Please fuck me," Jaskier begged and whined tugging at Geralt's hip trying to get him closer.
"Oh, so you want me, Jaskier," he teased.
"I've wanted you since Posada. I've wanted you more than air, Geralt. I love you, you hard-headed Witcher."
Geralt stopped his teasing and groaned at the confession from Jaskier, leaning down and kissing between exposed shoulder blades. "I don't deserve that love but I'll take it and give back what I can," he said into soft skin, knowing Jaskier heard him clearly from the way his breath hitched and body shivered.
Slowly he slid into Jaskier, taking his time, savoring every moan. Every hitched breath and shiver of need he kissed and soothed at Jaskier until he was finally seated fully with a combined moan of pleasure from both of them. He stilled for a moment, giving the other man time to adjust and catch his breath. A sheen of sweat settled on his skin, still flushed and now littered with bite marks.
"Geralt, move, gods, just move," Jaskier said, strained with pleasure as he kicked awkwardly at Geralt's ass with his booted foot, the slight heel getting him making his hips hitch into Jaskier just right causing a deliciously loud moan.
So Geralt moved slowly, pulling out, then just as slowly sliding back in, listening to everything Jaskier didn't know he was saying aloud. His body in a haze of pleasure, reacting perfectly to gain more pleasure as Geralt sped up while still going deep until he hit just right. Jaskier tensing up for a moment before going slack with it.
"Beautiful." Geralt continued to rut into Jaskier, picking up pace with every noise, the sweet smell lingering on Jaskier enticing him to go as deep as he could.
Jaskier clenched and writhed in ways that made Geralt's head spin as he tried to keep his pace, wanting to give as much as he could to the other. He didn't have the words to explain himself so he'd show Jaskier, knowing that he'd be understood as clear as daylight.
"Geralt. Geralt, stop, I…." Jaskier whined out suddenly, desperation rolling off of him.
Geralt stopped, feeling ready to burst out of his own skin but was more worried about Jaskier. "Are you alright? I didn't-"
"No! No, you haven't hurt me. I just, oh gods, this sounds stupid. I want to see your face." Geralt could see the embarrassment in Jaskier's shoulders as they tucked inwards, ears turning violently red as he muttered it out.
By the gods, he loved this sap. "Alright."
"Alright?" An unsure gaze fixed on him overly hopeful.
Geralt wanted to scream his soul out of his body.
"Yes, I'd enjoy that." Apparently more words and showing were needed as he carefully pulled out, both of them groaning at the loss of contact. They tried shuffling into a better position. There was one problem.
Jaskier still had his pants and boots on. Geralt, in trying to maneuver around a ridiculously long leg, was now tangled up in the ruined fabric as Jaskier slid out of it.
They stared a moment at each other tangled up in fabric, both obscenely hard and wanting. Jaskier snorted.
They couldn't stop laughing.
"You look absurd."
"You've still got your boots on." A tug at fabric tucked into leather.
"Oh, like you don't?! You're mostly still dressed, Geralt!" Jaskier tugged back at Geralt’s stained shirt while staring at Geralt's equally wet and hard cock, licking his lips in anticipation.
"I thought you wanted to look at my face?"
"Oh, don't get me wrong, I really do but you see, I'm feeling quite empty, think your friend there could fill me back up?"
"I should gag you."
"As if that'd actually stop me from making noise."
It was true, Jaskier has found some way to make enough noise even while bound and gagged to the point his kidnappers have just given him back to Geralt instead of keeping him.
"It wouldn't but I'd like how it looks," Geralt half said to himself.
"Well, who am I to disrupt aesthetics." Jaskier feigned calmness but his pulse jackhammered away.
"Considering you thought squeezing me into a spare set of your fancy clothes for a royal wedding was a good idea because 'It'll match your hair, Geralt, it'll be fine.' Then I had to fight people in it and you got upset the doublet tore," he grumbled as he untangled fabrics from about his head and fit himself between the pants and Jaskier's soft bare thighs.
"Listen, it was important that you looked nice. And you're going off the point here!!" Jaskier jabbed at Geralt's chest. "I'm attempting to be appealing and you're not paying attention." He shimmied fully out of his torn shirt and doublet, grumbling a bit. It'd be slightly intimidating if he wasn’t a wreck and obviously hard.
"I'm not missing the point, you're always appealing. I just don't understand the need for fancy clothes, especially if you want me to fuck you five ways into next week."
"I-. Okay, you've got a good point there. I'll give you that, my dear," Jaskier chuckled and smiled like the sun.
Geralt's slow heart skipped a beat at it. He smiled back, feeling a bit odd about it. But if it meant he'd get to keep having Jaskier look at him like that it was fine.
"See, I know what I'm talking about. Now let's get you out of these absurd pants."
"You didn't think they were so absurd earlier when you were tugging me about by my ties," Jaskier shot out smugly at him, smile nearly impish in his delight.
Geralt leaned in and caught Jaskier's mouth in a bruising kiss to shut him up as Jaskier laughed into it. The other pulled away after a moment to look at him and playfully peck his nose.
"Just so you know, quite a few of my pants are tied like that." He dramatically wiggled his eyebrows at Geralt who rolled his eyes playfully as he felt his dick twitch with interest at the thought of it.
"Jaskier, unless you want these pants to be completely ruined beyond repair you've got to take them off," Geralt said as he pet Jaskier's thighs, not wanting to move.
"Fine." Jaskier flopped back, pulled his legs up and over Geralt and rested one boot-clad foot on Geralt's shoulder, the other caught on Geralt's forearm. "Then you could help me out of these, sweetheart," he said, tapping Geralt's jaw with the tapered toe of the boot. Eyes blown wide and mouth stretched into an obscene smile, he lounged on the soft pillows.
"Asking for trouble aren't you, Jaskier?" Geralt growled out as he let the one foot fall and dangle as he went to untie the boot on his shoulder. Jaskier squirmed a bit at how slowly he was going, one hand shot out and slapped a thigh playfully. “Keep that up and I'll go slower."
The look on Jaskier's face was priceless as Geralt stared the bard down. Jaskier whined at him but didn't move.
"Good boy," he rumbled at Jaskier, who gained some of the redness back from earlier at that. He continued to slowly unlace the supple boot from the leg resting fully on his shoulder.
Jaskier whined and softly complained about how slow he was and how much of a tease he was. Words muddled together as Jaskier stayed stilled, long legs trembling with the effort of holding them at such an angle, his cock twitching at Geralt's soft touches and breaths on every inch of revealed soft skin. One boot down as he slowly removed the leg from the light cotton, teasing at the calf, leaving a bite just past the knee on Jaskier's thigh, earning him a high-pitched noise of want. He chuckled at that as he slowly lowered that leg and reached to perch the second one on the other shoulder to slowly, so slowly, unlace the second boot.
"Geralt, please."
"Please what? Am I not going fast enough for you? Would you rather I ruin all of your good clothes or wait a bit longer before I'm back to fucking you more senseless than usual?" he rumbled out as he held the leg off his shoulder forcing Jaskier to stretch his leg at what should've been an odd angle but the trapped man showed no discomfort at all. Geralt kept going, pushing the leg further. Jaskier smirked at him.
"You keep threatening my clothes and pushing my legs like that, I might think you've got a complex of some sort there, witcher." Jaskier's smirk got wider as Geralt stared at him, gears turning to understand him.
Fuck.
"Fuck," was followed by Jaskier's laughter at him finally catching up and his body moving on its own to rid Jaskier of his last boot and the blasted pants. He quickly started removing his own clothes, practically tearing them off in his hurry to get back between Jaskier's thighs.
"Oh, at least make a show out of taking your pants off. I'd like to stare at your fine ass a bit," Jaskier started to say as Geralt swiftly made himself comfortable between his legs before grabbing under his thighs and bending him in half. He chuckled into the hungry kiss that followed as Geralt crowded him to get closer. "Finally getting with the program I see."
"Shut up."
"No need to be embarrassed about liking them bendy, Geralt."
"I swear you like the sound of your voice above all," he said between biting kisses.
"No, I do like the sounds you made earlier when I sucked that lovely cock of yours." Jaskier shot him a lust filled smile that made Geralt sure he was redder than Eskel’s jerkin.
Geralt slid his dick between Jaskier's cheeks, shutting Jaskier up as he moaned at the feeling of him almost back where he was wanted. Jaskier tried to move but with his legs pushed against him with most of Geralt's weight he couldn't and was quickly getting frustrated at the lack of friction.
"Geralt, for fuck’s sake. You're such a damned tea-" Geralt pushed back in slowly until he bottomed out, hips flush with Jaskier's ass. "Ah fuck yes. Finally." He reached up and grabbed Geralt's shoulders pulling at him as he slowly fucked into Jaskier again.
Geralt quickly picked his pace back up as Jaskier continued to try and hold onto his shoulders, never looking away from him. His pretty blue eyes grew hazy with pleasure but refused to look away. Geralt slung both legs over his shoulders as he reached to hold onto the headboard, now able to give Jaskier more of what he was babbling for. Jaskier's nails dug into his shoulders as he hit just right. He could smell how close Jaskier was.
He was just as close now, pleasure running up his spine, his gut getting heavy with it. He kept rutting as hard as he could, grunting and growling like some kind of beast yet Jaskier still looked at him like he was wanted, still pleaded to him for more.
"Geralt, please. Please."
"What do you want? Tell me and I'll give it."
"Geralt, I... please, more."
"More of what?"
"Geralt, my love, please." Jaskier still looked at him through tears, head tilting to expose his neck as he said it and Geralt knew what he needed. He knew what they both needed.
He bit down into Jaskier's neck as hard as he could. Jaskier came as he broke skin, blood pooling in his mouth. The clenching of Jaskier's body tipped him over as much as the groan of pleasure escaping him. He fucked into Jaskier until a pained gasp came out. He stilled and basked in the warmth of them wrapped up in each other. The tender caresses up his back and down his sides, the slowly calming beat of Jaskier's heart and the smell of contentment filling his nose. He slowly let go of Jaskier's neck, licking at the bite before looking back at Jaskier who had a fucked out grin on his face.
Jaskier clumsily but softly wiped his blood from Geralt's mouth, smile still perched on his face.
"That was amazing, we're definitely doing that again," he slurred out, making Geralt laugh at how even after a good fucking he could still find the will to talk.
"Of course we're doing that again. What part of 'as long as you'll have me' wasn't clear enough?" He chuckled drunkenly as he nuzzled at Jaskier's neck leaving a trail of wet kisses. He gently set Jaskier's legs down on either side of himself to get closer to the lax bard.
"I'm trying to be as clear as possible about this, you brute." Jaskier playfully swatted at a sweaty bicep, almost missing as he moved to let Geralt have more access to his neck, preening at the attention.
"Hmmmm, that so."
"Yes."
"You don't sound so clear right now," he teased back, licking a long stripe from clavicle to just under Jaskier's ear, enjoying the shiver it induced and the spike of arousal from Jaskier's tired body.
"Oh for- Geralt of Rivia, I want you to fuck me absolutely senseless to next Tuesday as soon as possible and as often as possible. Do you understand that or are you going to keep acting as if you've got cotton for brains?" he huffed out, barely keeping an annoyed front.
"That's very clear. Such a poetic way to convince me to fuck you, but I doubt either of us could do another round so soon," he said, earning a face full of pillow.
"You're such an ass," Jaskier laughed.
"I'm your ass." Geralt swiped the pillow and hit Jaskier with it as the other tried to fight him off.
"Yes, yes you are. Now stop that. Ugh, I'm all sticky. Seriously, get off, it's starting to get unpleasant," Jaskier said around more laughter. He pushed at Geralt with no real fight in him but Geralt relented, also noticing the tacky feel of sweat and cum drying between them.
"Alright, alright, hold still. Don't want to hurt you," he said before he could stop himself.
"You'd never hurt me."
"You put too much faith in me."
"You don't put enough faith in yourself. I've got to compensate, remember?"
The phrase and way it was said shouldn't have been as endearing as it was to Geralt but he can't stop the feeling from settling warmly in his bones. With a soft huff and shake of his head and possibly a half attempted kick to his ass by a sticky bard, he gently pulled out.
They both moaned at the loss of being so close. Jaskier made an aborted attempt at pulling him close again. Geralt softly kissed his forehead in apology. When he glanced down he could see his cum leaking from Jaskier's used hole. He looked at it and had a sudden urge as his mouth watered. Jaskier noticed him staring and was ready to ask what he was doing when he shot down between Jaskier's cheeks again.
"Geralt, what are you- OH BY MELITELE’S FUCKING TITS!" Jaskier yelled out, shocked and deeply aroused as he grasped desperately at Geralt's hair, not sure if he should push or pull him away. Any thoughts of either were wiped out as soon as Geralt's tongue slid into him, curling inside and lapped up the leaking cum from him. He writhed into Geralt's face as the Witcher kept studiously eating his own cum from his ass. He cried as he hit well past overstimulation, body shaking so hard he thought he'd break apart. Tears left tracks down his face, legs clamping harshly around Geralt's head as his body somehow once again raced to completion. He came so hard he nearly blacked out from it. He could vaguely hear Geralt groaning at possibly his own completion rutting into the bed and leaving more kisses and bites at his thighs.
Geralt slowly made his way up and licked his stomach clean of his release and settled on his chest breathing heavy and exhausted.
"Ok that was- Oh gods, that was both delightful and unexpected in so many ways." Jaskier tried to connect his thoughts around the buzzing of coming so much. His body limp but well sated in a way he'd never been before.
"Fuck. There probably was an aphrodisiac in the wine or something." Geralt immediately sounded guilt ridden. That wouldn't do at all, not after what they just did.
"Wouldn't have changed my want for you so don't even think otherwise or I'll convince Yen to turn you into a pigeon."
"You wouldn't dare. Also, isn't she still cross at you about making a rude song about her wardrobe?"
"NOT THE POINT!!!" he said way too quickly, but refused to acknowledge.
"But-"
"Aphrodisiac or not, I'd still want you like this. I'd still want you wandering the path, rain or shine. I'd still love you whether or not someone spiked the drinks to ensure everyone had some fun. You're you and that's what I want, no more, no less." Jaskier held Geralt's face so he couldn't hide from what he was saying, making sure he showed as much as told. Geralt was wary of words and who could blame him.
"Now the big question is, would you still want me?" It hurt to ask but he had to to make Geralt understand what he meant was true.
"Of course I'd still want you. I've wanted you ever since the first time you defended me from a rude villager. I want you wandering the path with me. I'd want you even when I'm dragged along to your fancy banquets. I'd want you just as well in any weather. I'd want you with a full purse or empty satchel. I want you and all your noise and fancy clothes," he said, pulling Jaskier closer as if he was going to be taken away, his golden eyes full of more than he could ever express with words in that moment.
"There, dear, that settles it. We'd want each other either way, we just got to have some extra fun with it all then," Jaskier said as he pet at Geralt's sweaty hair, feeling the tension leave the broader man.
"Yes. Yes, it does, my- my love." Geralt said it softly, almost a question, and Jaskier's heart soared into the heavens at it.
"Yes, my lovely, it does. Now could you please get a rag because I'm afraid we'll never be able to part if we fall asleep like this," he said stifling a yawn, though he wanted to kiss Geralt senseless at trying to express himself.
Geralt huffed at him, smiling ear to ear as he extracted himself from the tangle that was Jaskier and the twisted blankets. He walked unsteadily to the wash basin and got the wet rag from it then went back to a sleepy Jaskier.
Jaskier was a sight to behold. His hair clung to his still slightly flushed face. His shoulders, neck, and thighs were littered with love bites and bruises. He lounged about unashamedly for Geralt to see what he left behind.
If Geralt knew they both could handle it he'd try to convince Jaskier to go another round but with how soft and welcoming Jaskier was, looking all sated and half asleep, he couldn't bring himself to do much more then gently wipe Jaskier down, careful of the broken skin at his neck and of his sore hole. He was going to get a salve from his pack after wiping himself down when Jaskier pulled him back to the bed and into his arms. He couldn't deny Jaskier this and snuggled close to his lover, pulling up the blankets when Jaskier shivered as his body cooled down.
"We'll talk more in the morning?" Jaskier mumbled into his hair.
"Yes, now sleep, Jaskier."
They slept tangled together, breathing each other in, both feeling a sense of being they'd always been searching for.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Geralt was woken up by knocking on the door. At first a few knocks, then a few more, as he gently extracted himself from a clingy Jaskier mumbling in his sleep and looked for his pants. Jaskier shot up at a louder knock, looking about a bit dazed then saw Geralt getting half dressed.
"What's going on?" He blinked a bit trying to focus, his hair an absolute nest at this point.
"Not sure yet. Yes, hold on, I'm coming," he yelled at the door.
"Well, you sure did last night," Jaskier snarled as he half rolled half fell out of the bed. His legs unsteady beneath him for a moment, he waved a concerned Geralt off, pointing at the door as he wrapped the light quilt about him like a cloak.
"Sir Witcher? Are you up? There might be a problem," came the worried voice of the innkeeper.
"Oh posh, Henry, there's no problem, it's good news! They both should know. You lads got clothes on?" his wife yelled through the door enthusiastically. Way too enthusiastically for this early in the morning. Was it morning?
"Ana! Behave yourself. Sorry lads, a lot happened last night, you might want to see," the innkeeper said worriedly.
"Of course, they're going to want to see. This is so lovely," his wife continued on as if she wasn't interrupted. "You lads get dressed now, I'll get you both something to eat! Come along, Henry!" she said, steps hurriedly leaving.
"Ana, what in the heavens? Ana!" The innkeeper's voice faded and steps went away from the door as he chased his enthusiastic wife to, presumably, the kitchen.
"What in the fuck just happened there?" Jaskier said as he stood next to Geralt, half dressed. Both of them stared at the door in utter confusion.
"You think if we pretend to sleep or sneak out the window, whatever it is won't bother us?" Geralt said, already feeling a headache forming.
"Like fuck that'll work, we're both too curious now to do that, especially with such mixed signals from them both. But I do suggest at least packing our things in case we need to make a speedy escape," Jaskier said as he shuffled over to his bag to find clothes.
He was right and that annoyed Geralt. There was just enough and not enough information about what was going on that told him to investigate. And knowing Jaskier, he sniffed out a good story and was ready to spin it just the right way.
He finally took a good look at Jaskier and was immediately distracted and turned on by the sight of how wrecked he still looked. The bruises were even darker on his pale skin than before. The light streaming in from the half closed curtain in the window was warm and made him glow. Geralt watched as the muscles moved underneath his skin as he searched for a loose shirt and pants still fit to be seen in public.
"Geralt, you can stare as much as you want later, now get dressed in something not stained in cum, yeah?" Jaskier said, still looking through his things, probably for his comb.
"I, uh, right," Geralt stuttered out, smelling Jaskier's amusement at his being caught staring.
They quickly got presentable, Jaskier seemingly not caring that a few of the larger bruises on his neck could still be seen, and packed up just in case, as planned. They double checked themselves and their things before they stood before the door, once again both unsure if they truly wanted to walk through it.
"Well, we should go downstairs, shouldn't we?" Jaskier half said to himself, looking over at Geralt.
"We should," Geralt said, equally worried, but he had to make sure the creature hadn't come back.
"Alright, then let's go. But first, Geralt?"
"Yes?"
"Good morning, I love you," he said quickly, before kissing Geralt gently. He pulled back with a soft smile. "Gods, I've wanted to say that for so long."
Geralt looked at him foolishly for a moment before pulling him back for another soft kiss or two before saying "Good morning, and I love you too." He felt dizzy with the shock and affection that rolled off of Jaskier, and the familiar warm but soft smell from last night.
Oh.
That's what love smells like.
He leaned into Jaskier's neck and took a deep breath, savoring the smell and the laughter from Jaskier as he did so.
"There you go again sniffing at me like I smell bad. I'll order us a bath, how about that?"
"You smell like love," Geralt interrupted, filled with joy and amazement at the man in his arms leaning back into him, enjoying the attention Geralt was giving him.
"I- what? Wait, you can smell that? How good is your nose? Could you smell truffles? We could be making good money if you could smell truffles, Geralt," Jaskier rambled about, mind a flurry of ideas full of excitement and possibilities.
Geralt laughed deep from his belly and dropped his head onto Jaskier's shoulder, who focused back on him holding him, a bit concerned.
"I'm a witcher, Jaskier, I can smell a lot of things, including most emotions. I've just never encountered genuine love before, it smells like spices and flowers, it smells good on you." He nuzzled into Jaskier's neck once more, breathing in just to put it to memory.
"Oh. Oh well, that's interesting, you're definitely going to have to explain it more to me. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, darling, but we're needed downstairs," Jaskier said softly, as if he was worried he'd startle Geralt.
"Hmmmm, okay, let's go together." He reluctantly pulled away and went to the door.
"Of course, wouldn't have it any other way, my dear."
Geralt opened the door and was met with an empty hallway; no one in it. He could hear a few of the other guests still sleeping or starting to get up as well. They looked at each other, Jaskier shrugged, and they stepped out into the hall and walked over and down into the main room to be greeted with a busy area. Various villagers were milling about with baskets full of vegetables and other things. The door to the inn was wide open as people walked in and out, excited, bringing more things into the inn while others were sorting it all on tables.
Over the chatter and movement Geralt could hear the innkeeper's wife chatting happily with someone, so he followed her cheery voice closer to the kitchen area, Jaskier close by. People said good morning to them and asked them how they slept. A few of the younger maids giggled at seeing Jaskier's neck, some of the lads making a few lewd jokes, but nothing mean as they made their way to the kitchen area. The innkeeper saw them first.
"Ah. There you lads are, did you sleep well?" he asked sincerely but was still a bit nervous. They looked at each other for a moment before Geralt answered.
"We slept well but is something the matter? All I see is people having an early harvest?"
"Oh, there you are! Did you lads sleep well?! Have you seen what last night's festivities brought us?!! Look at you, you got delightfully mauled last night, didn't you!" The innkeeper's wife interrupted before he could answer, shoving overflowing plates of food at the both of them and pinching Jaskier's cheek as she looked at his bruised neck.
"I, um. I, yes, I was, as you put it, delightfully mauled and rather enjoyed it," he said, settling into his usual flirty mood.
"Oh, how fantastic! I was right! You see, Henry, I was right, they're the ones that made everything grow again. This is such splendid news! Congratulations, lads, on your happy marriage!" She turned an exciting shade of pink as she hugged them close together at the same time and just as fast ran off to go get something for them.
"Married?" Geralt asked accusingly at the innkeeper as Jaskier just stared in the distance for a moment.
"I, uh, oh well, you see, it's, uh, usually well, ummm. Ana??" the man spluttered and looked unsure how to explain, growing red in embarrassment about the situation. Thankfully he was spared by the retired bard.
"So it seems you did get pulled into our old tradition then?" the old kindly man asked.
"What tradition are you speaking of specifically?" Jaskier asked, apparently over the shock of possibly being married, his mind always hungry for information. Both men stared at the old bard who smiled fondly at them for a moment and began to explain.
"You see, there's an old tradition of a new marriage that will last a year and a day as a tribute for our harvest god. But the marriages the past few years turned bad for multiple reasons, and without that bond protecting us, that creature came and ate the previous harvests, no matter what we did to try and stop it. One of the more strict believers of the old religion was sure it was because the previous people chosen were too serious, and seemed to think you, Mister Jaskier, were just joyful enough to reverse the curse of the creature, after Sir Witcher Geralt here dispatched its current form. Though the tradition states that the year and day marriage should be made with a trusted bond or partner, and, well, you two jumped the main bonfire meant for the ceremony. So whatever magic might've been there, if any, made you two the ones responsible for whatever kind of harvest we have until next year." He paused to let them think his words over, as more commotion happened around them of people bringing in more goods.
"Hold on, what you mean to tell me is us getting 'married' and consummating said 'marriage' made this happen???" Jaskier pointed at the crowd of people crammed into the inn, his voice cracking at the end like a punted chicken.
"Yes. You can easily see what is being brought in, can't you? These are not all crops that are harvested early in the season. I don't know of any wheat that grows and can be harvested in a day, do you?" He pointed out the small window nearby that overlooked said fields and, sure enough, there were teams of men already harvesting wheat, of all things.
"I…. What the devil? Geralt, are you seeing this?" Jaskier asked incredulously, face contorted in curious confusion.
"Yes I am, this is very strange to say the least."
"Strange? Just strange? This is more than strange, Geralt. This is a whole instance of something messing about with how the plants grow. Wheat growing in a day, really, Geralt, strange is all you've got?" He swung the arm not holding the plate of food to punctuate his point.
"I'm a witcher, not a wordsmith, such as yourself. Why don't you just make a better word?" He turned to the old bard. "Is there only a negative effect to the harvest and creature if the marriage goes bad?"
"You just can't randomly make up words, Geralt. Do you never listen when I talk about my classes, or do you think about hunting down nekkers all day?"
"Both?"
"You unreasonable cad. So will there be any side effects to us or anyone else since we're not exactly your usual kind of marriage? Do we have to constantly be around each other? Can we go about our usual business??" he asked between bites of food, obviously trying to calm himself and not ask the thousands of questions buzzing around his head.
The old bard laughed, a smile making his wrinkles pronounced. "Oh, nothing more than a usual marriage, I suppose, just a good sturdy marriage made with a good bond means a good year's harvest, and so far you've proven capable of one. Though if being married for a year would be a problem, I'm sure they could find another couple willing to switch places with you..."
"NO," they said simultaneously, both blushing at the realization and the knowing look in the old bard eyes.
"No, it'll be fine, we'd just like to know the details of such an arrangement," Geralt said, attempting to be diplomatic and failing, as he had to swat away Jaskier's fork from trying to take the sausages off his plate.
"Well, the full effects of the harvest specific magic will fade into the winter and the rest of it is more about having a strong bond, because the harvest and our good health are combined, much like a healthy body and soul are combined. There's two need our bodies require and that's food and love," he said as Jaskier successfully swiped a sausage to a gently smiling Geralt's fake annoyance.
"So as long as we're happy together, all will go well for us and everyone?" Jaskier asked, mouthful of stolen sausage.
"Yes, after the successful year and a day you can choose to stay together or go your separate ways and the magic goes away and another couple takes your place."
"Interesting," Geralt hummed out as the innkeeper's wife came back arms full of a huge blanket.
"Here you lads go, a wedding gift!!" she said as she unfolded it to show a soft blue background covered in yellow and white flower-shaped patches.
"Oh, how lovely! Would you look at that, Geralt, a quilt. A rather soft one. What's it made out of? Thank you so much." Jaskier immediately shoved his plate into Geralt's other hand, giddy about a gift.
He and the innkeeper's wife chatted about the huge quilt as the other older women gathered around to bring their own gifts, a few going up to Geralt and putting shirts up to him to see if their measurements were close enough for it to fit him. Some of their husbands congratulated the both of them, a few handing over dried foods and gear for the road as thanks for their repeated help and marriage.
This was apparently Geralt's life, getting accidentally married to his best friend because of weird traditions in tiny remote villages. It could be worse, it could be some kind of vampire hybrid that's nearly indestructible. So Geralt took the gifts and gratitude as he watched Jaskier gain the adoration of the whole village and ate his and Jaskier's breakfasts until they could slip back up to their room later in the morning.
Jaskier was buzzing with excitement, showing Geralt the new cat gut strings someone had given him as a gift for his lute and few other odd baubles, while he held fast onto the quilt from the innkeeper's wife. “Her name is Ana, Geralt. Be nice, she's super sweet; odd but sweet okay?”
They were putting a few of the things in their packs when Jaskier suddenly grew quiet. Geralt looked up from his task of rearranging new medical supplies in with his potions at Jaskier, who sat on the bed holding the quilt in his hands. He was gently petting at it, feeling the time-consuming embroidery on each flower, a contemplative look on his face.
"You alright, Jaskier?" Geralt asked as he walked over to him, stopping right in front of him and waiting for an answer. He didn't get one. Jaskier continued his staring and almost worrying touch of the quilt. He smelled of nerves and a bit of sadness. Geralt kneeled down in front of him so he'd be forced to look back. "What's the matter, Jaskier?"
"Would you stay?" he asked softly, still not looking directly at Geralt. Geralt gently put his hand to his face to tilt it to look at him.
"If you mean would I stay with you for a year and a day? Yes. If you mean for longer than a year and a day? If you'd have me for that long."
"You make it sound like you're unbearable, Geralt. You do realize that you're amazing, right?"
"And you're equally, if not more so."
"What are you talking about? I'm just a human, Geralt."
"A human who has kept up and dealt with a 'grumpy, broody, onion-smelling witcher with a bad attitude' as I've heard it said. You also don't scare easily. What's the matter?" he asked again, seeing whatever it was crawling to the surface.
"What if I'm not enough?" His voice cracked, sadness coming off of him like drool off of a ghoul. "What if you tire of me and I'm not enough?"
Geralt had never heard much of Jaskier's family but he'd never been so ready to find them and have a good talk about how to treat your loved ones.
"If you weren't enough and I had grown tired of you, you wouldn't be here right now with me. I thought I was supposed to be the 'clot head' then, hmmm?" Jaskier laughed wetly as Geralt kissed his forehead and felt the tension leave him.
"Do you mean it?" A hopeful look wrapped in an unsure tone.
"Yes. As long as you'll have me, we'll be together."
"The same goes for me. As long as you'll have me."
"It seems we'll never be rid of each other then," Geralt hummed out, a smile settling on his face and a warmth growing in his chest.
"Seems not, my old friend." Jaskier smiled at him as he gave him a peck on the nose.
"Hmmmm. Good. Now tell me about this quilt. Did Mrs. Ana give it to us?" He got up and sat on the bed close to Jaskier so the other could lean on him as he went into a deep explanation of the tradition of gifting couples quilts.
If this was going to be Geralt's life he'd be happy to jump a million bonfires to keep it.