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"This is a terrible idea." Geralt watched the bard pacing the room, folding one of his doublet and placing it gently on a chair.
Geralt had just come out of the bath, Jaskier had helped him with his hair and with the mud and monster's guts that were stuck to his back.
"Geralt" he said in the soft voice he always used whenever he was trying to convince the Witcher to do something "You said yourself that you don't like being seen as my bodyguard, that's the best solution."
Geralt raised his eyebrows, sitting on the side of the bed they shared, still shirtless, Jaskier stood in front of him, posing.
"We are going to a city that respects traditions and my 'bad idea' will keep me out of trouble and you'll have a lovely evening with good food and wine, I can guarantee" he gestured with his hand as he spoke "Come on, Geralt, I can't let the last bard that city has seen be Valdo Marx, no one deserves so much suffering.”
Geralt murmured, a little amused.
"So, you want me to tell everyone that we're together?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.
"Well... Yes." he shrugged “As I said, traditions. If they think I'm married, they won't lay a finger on me.”
The witcher narrowed his eyes.
"That doesn't make sense" he said.
The bard sighed.
“They think marriage is sacred so you can't even seduce or hurt someone who has a bond like that with someone else” He sat next to Geralt, trying to fake a guilty face “I kind of did both. Twice. Once with the same person.”
Geralt raised an eyebrow, questioning.
"Listen, he deserved that punch, okay" Jaskier said a little more sharply than usual, he always did that when he felt accused of something and Geralt felt the corner of his mouth lifting up slightly.
The bard clapped his hands together.
"So" he smiled "Are you going to help me or not?"
Geralt sighed, Jaskier knew well that the answer was yes, there were few things that didn't go exactly the way the bard wanted and none of them included Geralt not giving in to his requests.
Even more since their meeting after the dragon hunt, the Witcher still felt that the apology he gave wasn't enough and that Jaskier deserves better.
"Okay," Geralt finally said, seeing the troubadour's smile widen. "But if I have to fight anyone, you'll wash our clothes for a month."
Jaskier snorts.
"As if I didn't already do that, my dear."
It was Geralt's turn to smile wryly.
"Including the ones I use after a hunt."
The bard's smile turned into a grimace, he hated the sensation of dried blood - and sometimes shit - while rubbing the cloths with his hands.
"We have a deal, Witcher" he started wearing the blue doublet, the lute now in hand. "We leave tomorrow" was all he said before leaving the room and going down the stairs to entertain an audience.
Geralt enjoyed the silence for a few seconds, thinking about the information that Jaskier gave him earlier:
They were going to a festival, one that would have a musical competition, Jaskier learned about it a week ago when he met a colleague from Oxenfurt in a tavern and since then Geralt has been preparing for the myriad reasons why the bard would try to convince him to travel to the city.
There were good reasons, he had to admit, good food, wine, the competition prize was three times what the Witcher would made with a contract - and he had no doubt that Jaskier would win.
Obviously it was to be expected that the minstrel would have an interesting past with the people there - “like he has in every damn city” Geralt thought and suppressed a grunt, repeating in his mind that Jaskier's sex life had nothing to do with him - and usually that meant some headaches while having to constantly keep an eye on him and save the bard from furious cuckholds.
It was a plausible idea, he admitted, pretending that the two were together - they had been traveling for so long and some people already thought that - yet the idea made the Witcher feel a little restless, but whatever the reason, he would bury that feeling as he did with all the others.
Especially when it came to Jaskier.
He got out of bed, put on a shirt and left the room, maybe that strange nervousness that he refused to name was just hunger.
They really left early - which was a surprise, because Jaskier never woke up this early without complaining for an hour about it.
"I'm thinking of playing a new ballad, you know the one I made after the fight with the basilisk?" he was walking a little ahead of Geralt and Roach "It's a masterpiece, Geralt, obviously, after all I wrote it, but I'd like to hear your opinion, of course."
"What happened to the humble bard?"
"Nobody can be humble for 20 years, Geralt."
And without waiting for an answer, not that he was going to have one, Jaskier started singing, occasionally stopping to hear a feedback and complaining about Geralt's lack of words.
They arrived in the city when it was already dark, the competition would take place the next day before sunset, but the festival would start at noon.
"It's all about union, bard" the inkeeper said when Jaskier asked what was the reason for the celebration "They say it's the perfect time to declare love to your beloved one, I myself proposed to my wife at one of these festivals."
And then she started to tell her life story and Geralt stopped listening, going straight to the bedroom.
Jaskier came in immediately, laughing.
"Obviously it's about love!" he said lying on the bed on his back. “There is no other thing that people love more than well... love. I have to change some songs on my set” He sat down, searching through his bag and taking out one of his notebook.
"Do you have many songs about love?" Geralt asked, somewhat surprised to be curious about this.
The bard shook his head.
"I have a lot of songs about heartbreak" he corrected "Which may not be the best thing to play considering it's a festival about union."
Jaskier took the pen and the ink glass, quickly scratching something on the paper while murmuring to himself.
"Okay, have to be something about requited love, ugh, I don't have much about it" Geralt frowned, why not? he thought.
Okay, it was sure that Jaskier fell in love easily and fell out love just as easily, but why wouldn't he sing about the requited loves he once had? He sings about everything he experiences.
Was this something the bard never had?
Did Jaskier never felt loved?
The idea made something turn over in Geralt's stomach as if he's sick and, without realizing, he grimaced.
"Why that face?" the troubadour asked, drawing the Witcher's attention “What's in your head?”
Jaskier made a worried expression and all the time he did that Geralt felt he didn't deserve it.
"Hunger" he lied, it's easier to explain "I'll get dinner."
"Right" he replied, but didn't seem entirely convinced by the answer.
Geralt stood and was on the way to the door when he heard Jaskier calling him, amusement in his voice.
"Remember" he laughed "We're married now, so behave."
The Witcher was unable to contain his smirk.
"I'm not the one who flirts with everything that walks" he said before leaving, closing the door.
This time he had to wake Jaskier up, pushing his shoulder slightly and listening to the bard grumble.
"I need my beauty sleep, Geralt, how do you think I look so young and beautiful?"
Geralt huffs, as close to a laugh as he allowed himself.
"You're the one who insisted about seeing the festival before the competition" he sat on the side of the bed, putting on his boots "And it's almost noon. You already slept too much."
Jaskier stood up still mumbling something about Witchers and their lack of consideration.
"If I had no consideration I'd let you come alone and probably be killed by a bunch of cuckholds" the reply made Jaskier let out a little surprised yelp and then mutter "obviously he can hear me why the fuck I keep forgetting that" and Geralt felt the corner of his mouth lifting up.
"Well..." the bard was looking inside his bags for something to wear "Good to know you care."
He smirks and Geralt loved it when he made that expression, as if whatever would be the following argument, he knew he'd already been the winner.
And he was usually right about that.
“Don’t flattered yourself, I’m doing it for the coin” and it made Jaskier laugh, so Geralt felt strangely proud of himself.
The festival wasn't so far from the inn, near the entrance to the forest, a field all decorated with colorful flowers, blue, yellow, purple, with wooden benches next to the merchant's cart and barrels of wine. Right in the center was a large wooden arch wrapped in red tulips and, further west, a small stage where the competition would take place.
But, of course, too many people and Geralt would be uncomfortable if it weren't for the delightful smile that Jaskier kept on his face as he looked around and greeted some passing people.
He felt an arm around his and, for a second, tensed, until he remembered that he and Jaskier were pretending to be a couple.
"A flower for your love?" A young girl stopped in front of them, with a basket full of cornflowers.
"The color of his eyes" Geralt thought as he watched Jaskier take out a coin and hand to the girl, thanking and taking the flower.
The bard looked at the Witcher and by the smile he gave, Geralt shouldn't have been surprised by what came next.
Jaskier ran his fingers through his white hair, pulled it out of the way and placed the flower behind Geralt's ear.
The witcher narrowed his eyes, growling low.
"Oh, hush" the troubadour said before returning to wrap his arms around Geralt's "This way you'll look more friendly."
"I already left my swords in the inn, that's my friendly look" they walked around the festival, searching for a vacant seat "And it's ridiculous."
Jaskier chuckled, not hiding his amusement.
“Stop sulking, it's just a flower” Geralt glares to him, but as usual Jaskier didn't care.
They sat down and the bard went after wine and some pieces of bread and cheese for both of them.
“Look, Geralt, they have strawberries” Jaskier pointed to the fruit between his fingers “Unfortunately the price is not very kind, but they're giving one to the couples for free. Well, they're probably charging more than they should for the rest of the fruit to make up for it, but no one needs to know” he brought the strawberry to the Witcher's face “Here. Eat.”
Geralt looked at the fruit, then at the bard; he knew the taste, he'd eaten it a long time ago, but decided that Jaskier didn't need to know that.
He bit the fruit, but only half, partly not to bring his lips too close to the bard's fingers and partly to leave a piece for him.
"Good" was all he said and Jaskier smiled beautifully before eating the other half.
The wine came soon after, Jaskier stole a few sips from his tankard, refusing to take one for himself.
"I have to stay sober, Geralt, take away the bitter memory that Valdo Marx must have left in this poor city."
"How do you know he was here?" he asked, again pulling his tankward out of the bard's hand reach.
“Oh, my colleague, the one we found in that tavern, told me about it, it seems that Valdo Marx made a sonnet for a baron and played here at the festival last year, obviously it wasn't a competition, he needs to be pampering by a nobleman or noblewoman, he wouldn't survive a day in the hard work of being a bard out of merit and talent!”
Geralt rolled his eyes more fondly than annoyed.
"I intend to crush the memory of him and all the bards that came before, Geralt, this city will be singing praises to Master Bard Jaskier for decades."
"Humble bard." Geralt murmured and Jaskier smirks.
"Be grateful, part of the coin will be yours" he patted the Witcher on the shoulder and left to make some friends around the festival.
At no time did Geralt lose sight of Jaskier, he told himself it was in case the troubadour got in trouble and not because every time someone recognized him his smile seemed to shine or because he looked even more beautiful surrounded by colorful flowers that matched the color of his eyes or because the doublet he was wearing was tighter around his ass...
Geralt swallowed, taking another sip of wine and looking away. And at that moment he saw: a tall man, a little bald, broad, and with strong arms - probably from working as a blacksmith - and a very furious expression that Geralt knew well.
"Was taking too long..." he thought and got up from the wood bench, reaching Jaskier at the same moment the man pulled the bard strongly by the forearm, forcing the troubador to look at him.
"I'm sorry, gentleman, but I really need my arm," Jaskier said trying to break free.
“You son of a bi-” he was interrupted by a rough and deep “What's going on here?”
The man narrowed his eyes at the Witcher and Geralt remembered that he still had the flower behind his ear.
“This bastard here” he pointed a finger at the bard's face, making his eyes widen “Fucked my wife last time he was here and now has the courage to show his fucking face at this type of festival.”
"You must have mistaken me for someone, sir, I never slept with a married woman." Geralt would laugh at that lie if he weren't so focused on the man who clearly wanted to punch Jaskier.
"Don’t you fucking lie!" he exclaimed loudly and some people around looked at them.
Ok, good, now they're attracting attention.
"I would recognize an fucking idiot like you anywhere, I saw you coming out of my fucking window."
Jaskier flinched a little as if he expected to be attacked, but Geralt put an arm around his shoulder, staring intently at the man and pointing with his head where the hand that still held the bard by the arm was.
The man understood and released him.
"I don't know what he did in the past" Geralt said and could feel Jaskier wanting to elbow him for not saying the man was wrong "But he's with me now."
The man looked at them both and gave an incredulous laugh.
"You really want me to believe you're together?" he slapped a hand on his thigh as if that was the biggest joke he ever heard “A fucking Witcher? Married? You think I'm dumb bard? ”
Geralt didn't want him to answer that.
"I'm sorry, my good sir, but we're, indeed, married!" Jaskier put his hands on his hips “And we have the right to enjoy the festival as a couple!” he emphasized the last part using a higher pitch and more people turned to look.
The man noticed the attention they're attracting and narrowed his eyes.
"Our conversation isn't over, bard" he almost spat and moving away he laughed wryly again mumbling "Married to a Witcher, my fucking ass."
Jaskier sighed with relief and Geralt pressed his lips together.
"I don't know why I still agree with your ideas."
He made a false sound of outrage.
"In my defense she didn't tell me she was married, I'm not to blame here."
Geralt huffs and Jaskier turned to look at him, placing both hands on the Witcher's shoulder, smirking.
Geralt raised an eyebrow at the touch and glares while the bard brought his lips really close to the Witcher's ears, saying with the same low voice he uses while flirting:
"Thank you, my husband" he winks and then just left.
Geralt felt a shudder go up his spine, his body reacting in a way not quite suitable for a public festival and his brain stopped working.
It took him a few seconds to remember how to walk, and he was grateful that the mutations didn't let his face turn red because he felt like he was burning.
Then the competition started and he wouldn't have to talk to Jaskier until he finished playing, gladly, 'cause he didn't know if he could handle being called that again.
Well, the front of his pants couldn't.
He sat a little uncomfortably, watching the bard near the stage waiting for his turn, lightly caressing the lute strings without making a sound. It's strange how his hands could look so strong and so delicate at the same time and Geralt knew some things that they're capable of: fast while playing, firm while sewing wounds, soft while caressing Geralt's hair, maybe it'd be good to feel them pulling, scratching, squeezing, stroking...
He took a sip of wine, pushing that thought away.
It's impossible to not notice the change of emotions in the environment when Jaskier started to play, all eyes suddenly focused on him, delighted with each higher note that the bard reached and - at the request of the judge himself - he sang more than one song “a jig, to make everyone here dance in celebration of their vows” and obviously that Jaskier played without hesitation, couples and more couples rotated in a choreography at the center of the field and Jaskier came down from the stage, dancing between them.
Geralt smiled, he liked to see the bard like that, happy and having fun. And everytime that happened, Geralt looked at him as if nothing else around him existed or mattered.
Jaskier was what mattered at the moment.
When the song was over, Jaskier threw himself on the bench next to Geralt, breathing irregularly with the effort.
"I think they liked me" he laughed.
"Hm" another bard started playing, another jig, taking advantage that the audience was still in the mood and the Witcher noticed Jaskier smile in a way that would normally result in problem or something stupid.
Or both.
"Geralt..." he said in a tone that confirmed what the Witcher suspected "Let's dance."
Geralt looked at him as if he'd asked to kiss a selkiemore.
"Come on. It'll be fun, no one will pay attention to us if we stay right here” Jaskier stood up holding out a hand to the Witcher. "Please?"
He pouted and Geralt knew well that he couldn't say no.
"I don't dance."
He danced.
Jaskier was right, they're far enough from the center of the field and it helped to not attract attention - and the merchants around weren't too keen to see couples' displays of affection.
Geralt silently thanked the bard who was on the stage for stay playing jigs, because he didn't know if he would be able to slow dance with Jaskier and remember how to breathe at the same time.
Jaskier showed him how to dance that ballad and the only thing touching were their hands, between their bodies as they both spun around them, now and then reversing the direction. The troubadour moved gracefully and Geralt realized that he was smiling while looking at Jaskier.
It seemed easy, being there with Jaskier, together. For a moment it was as if there were no problems, Geralt forgot about the world around him, the past mistakes, the uncertainty about the future.
It was him and Jaskier and nothing else and it felt so right. It felt so good.
When the music stopped Jaskier was laughing and it sounded better than any song Geralt has ever heard.
And he lost himself, lost himself admiring the blue of those eyes, the sensation of Jaskier's hand in his, the color that painted the bard's cheek, he lost himself so much that he didn't notice his surroundings until the bard caught his attention.
"Uh, Geralt..." Jaskier tightened the grip on his hand, wide eyes going from one direction to the other and the Witcher realized what was going on.
There were seven men surrounding they and, fuck, couldn't the bard have been involved with someone with a smaller family? Even with the mutations he would not win a punch fight against seven men, especially in the middle of a festival where children were having fun.
Geralt grunted, even if it's an easy fight he wasn't in the mood to get involved, there had to be some other way than the one with violence.
He looked around, looking for a solution: it's a tradition, someone had told them earlier, foreign couples had to stand under the arch of red tulips and share a kiss, something about good luck and renewal of the vows and union. It's a stupid idea, but pretending to be married to Jaskier was also a stupid idea and they still followed through it, so whatever.
He pulled the bard under the arch, ignoring the little sound of protest he received for the sudden act.
The men were approaching, but hesitated curiously when they saw where the "couple" was.
"What are you do-" Jaskier didn't have time to finish, Geralt wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling his body close and bringing his lips to the bard's.
And, Gods, it felt better than Geralt expected.
Jaskier let out a surprised gasp that only the Witcher could hear and it made Geralt's body suddenly hot.
The minstrel parted his lips slowly, letting their tongues participate in the kiss and it become a little more intense, deep. Geralt tightened his embrace around Jaskier and was answered with a bite to his lower lip.
He wanted to put Jaskier against some place and kiss his neck, bite every bit of skin possible and then feel the bard's teeth on him. Marking and being marked.
He could smell Jaskier's arousal and wanted to live in that smell, wanted to make it even stronger, to tease the bard until all that escaped his mouth were cries and moans begging for more, for Geralt.
Begging for his hands, for his lips, for his dick-
But he stopped the kiss earlier than he would have liked, still alert, he saw the men walk away - finally convinced that the two were a couple or not wanting to attract attention knowing that the people at the festival wouldn't agree with their attitudes.
He looked at Jaskier's face and suppressed a groan. The bard was flushed, lips parted, red and wet, his eyes wide and the blue being swallowed by the darkness of his pupils.
"They left" Geralt said, his voice harsher than he expected.
Jaskier blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance and looked around.
"Ah, yes, right" he said looking one last time at Geralt before looking away "Thank you."
"Hm."
The night went on without further problems and it would have been a pleasant event if Geralt hadn't been feeling his skin tingling and a strange emptiness in his chest as if something was missing.
Jaskier played a few more times and finally showing the ballad about the basilisk that Geralt heard all the way to the city.
It was a good song, exaggerated, it wasn't a heroic fight as the bard sang, but Jaskier's voice and the way he held the highest notes made the Witcher able to forgive him for the lack of veracity.
They didn't say anything to each other after the kiss, and for the first time, Geralt felt like he wanted to talk about it, but he had no idea how to start a conversation and didn't plan to.
Jaskier always talked about everything, eventually he would talk about it too, right?
The tingling sensation didn't stop.
When they announced the winner, it was no surprise that it was Jaskier, he went up to the stage with a bright smile and a pompous air, Geralt watched with amusement as he bowed exaggeratedly while thanking the audience. He took the bag full of coins - his prize - and came towards the bench where Geralt was.
"I won."
"I saw."
"You don't seem so surprised" he raised an eyebrow, smug.
"Don't take this as a compliment, bard" Geralt hid his small smile behind the tankard.
Jaskier smiled, but in a few seconds of silence something in his expression changed, he looked... nervous?
The witcher looked up to face him, but Jaskier wasn't looking at him.
"So..." the bard started to say "It's getting late, I think I'll go back to the inn, you can stay here, if you want obvious, they've a good wine and you haven't had dinner yet-"
Geralt frowned, Jaskier never left a party early, especially one where they would definitely fill him with compliments all night.
Apparently he considered Geralt's silence as agreement 'cause he mumbled a good night and started to head towards the inn.
Geralt stared at him leaving without understanding. Did something happen? Did the bard someone else threated him and didn't want to tell Geralt thinking that it'd bother him?
He thought of several possibilities until he felt his entire body go cold.
The kiss.
There was that.
Fuck.
Geralt was really stupid.
Obvious Jaskier would feel uncomfortable after that.
Jaskier always made it clear that he likes men too, but that didn't mean he would be attracted to Geralt.
To a fucking Witcher.
Well, he could use the fact that he was protecting the bard as an excuse, blame him and pretend that nothing happened.
But he liked to kiss Jaskier, he wanted to kiss Jaskier, he wanted more than that, he wanted so much that it terrified him - not that he's going to admit it.
He felt restless, suddenly the noise from the festival was too much and he felt his hands spasm, he needed to find something to do and keep himself busy.
"Why did you do that?" he heard his own voice in his mind "He just came back into your life and you already fucked that up."
He needed to do something to make his thoughts stop.
He felt a growl escape his throat, startling a woman near by, before getting up and heading towards the entrance to the forest.
He would find something or just walk around until he forgot.
Geralt didn't return to the inn that night.
He stopped his meditation when the sun rose, the forest was calm, he not so much, but enough to maintain control and ignore all the thoughts and feelings he didn't want to analyze.
Returning to the place of the festival, he saw some people, most of them clearly drunk, couples kissing and sharing touches that were on the verge of being inappropriate for a public place.
No one seemed to notice his presence.
He stopped in front of the bedroom he shared with the bard, suddenly feeling uncertain. By the rhythmic heartbeat and regular breathing, Jaskier was still asleep. Surely he would ask why Geralt didn't come back last night and the Witcher didn't have a good answer for that.
He opened the door as quietly as possible, but the wooden floor made a loud crack.
Jaskier woke up in a jolt, pulling a dagger from under his pillow and for a few seconds Geralt was proud that this was the bard's reaction to an intruder.
"It's me" he said, knowing it was still too dark in the room for Jaskier to see properly.
The troubadour's heart soothed for exactly ten seconds before racing again.
Jaskier was still nervous. Geralt pressed his lips together.
He saw the bard frown, lips twisting slightly to the side.
"Are you leaving?" he asked, taking Geralt by surprise.
Does he want Geralt to leave?
"Later" he replied "Breakfast first."
Jaskier seemed to relax and finally remembered that he still had the dagger in hand, placing it on the table beside the bed and getting up to open a window.
Geralt couldn't help but look, Jaskier had slept only with smallclothes, as it had been a relatively hot night. Geralt drank at the sight of those broad shoulders and back, the curve of his ass and thick calf from years of travel.
He wanted to sink his teeth into every part of Jaskier's body and had to suppress the groan that came with the thought.
He grimmaced, it wasn't time for it and he wasn't going to allow himself to think something like that, Jaskier trusted him and he'd already crossed the line with yesterday's scene, he wasn't going to ruin one of the only good things he had in life.
“We have enough money now if you want a bath,” Jaskier said, the sunshine illuminating each exposed part of his skin in a magnificent way that made Geralt disappointed when the bard started dressing “I'll get something to eat and I can ask the inkeeper to fill the bath. What do you think?"
"Hm" Geralt agreed.
"Great" Jaskier smiled, but strangely it didn't reach his eyes "Just wait here and do whatever you do when you're waiting."
Geralt did the first thing he always do to keep his hands busy, sat on the bed and started sharpening one of his swords - not that it's necessary, since he hasn't used it recently - but it's a good way to keep his mind away from the events of the previous day.
His peace was short-lived, he heard a knock on the door and murmured an “open” that was more grunt than word and a girl - clearly too young to be called a woman - came in with buckets of hot water to fill the one and kinda small bathtub the room had. .
She did it quickly, clearly uncomfortable for being in a room with a Witcher, but Geralt was too used to this kind of reaction to let it bother him.
In a few minutes she left the room for good and Geralt started to undress, obviously that was the moment that Jaskier decided to get in.
"The inkeeper is really a dear, do you believe, Geralt, that she gave me a piece of bread that just came out of the oven just 'cause her daughter liked my voice and-" he closed the door, turning to his friend and widening his eyes “Wow, you're... very naked. I- Well” he cleared his throat, the tip of his ears turning red “I brought bread” and went to put a plate with cheese, grapes and - obvious - bread on the table.
Geralt was surprised by the reaction, Jaskier had seen him without clothes more than once, they had been traveling together for over 20 years, it's normal for this to happen sometimes and Geralt was never the type to be ashamed to undress in front of others .
He ignored it, it's not like he understood Jaskier most of the time, and went into the bathtub, closing his eyes, relaxing.
He heard Jaskier fussing around the room, packing their things in his and Geralt's bags, making sure they weren't forgetting anything and humming a song.
He exclaimed something to himself before approaching the bathtub with a bottle of oil.
Citric, lemon, Geralt could smell, but so weak that a human probably couldn't, the bard had probably diluted the oil and prepared it especially for the Witcher.
That thought made something melt in Geralt's chest.
He followed the bath routine they always had, throwing some salts and oils into the water while humming something, but Geralt thought something was wrong.
Jaskier wasn't talking as much as he used to, normally at this point he would be totally annoying talking about the competition from the night before, about the compliments he received and being the not so humble bard that always amused the Witcher.
"Head down" he said and Geralt did.
At least he wasn't so uncomfortable to stop the touches.
Thinking about it being a possibility made him feel a painful twinge in his chest.
But the bard was quick with the task, even faster than the week after Geralt's apology about what he said on the mountain. The witcher didn't want to think about it and decided firmly that he wouldn't, maybe Jaskier just needed space and everything would be back to normal.
It didn't come back to normal.
A week went by, a week walking through forests without seeing civilization and a week of silence in moments that Geralt didn't think would be possible with Jaskier by his side.
Well, the bard acted normally, making conversation, trying to make Geralt tell him about old hunts, singing and composing as he always did, but he often seemed... lost.
Too thoughtful and too quiet.
And the touches.
Geralt missed the touches.
They didn't sleep that close anymore, Jaskier put his bedroll in the opposite direction from the Witcher's whenever he set up camp, Jaskier policed himself as much as possible not to invade his personal space and every time he got too close he seemed nervous and tense.
Geralt even thought about giving the bard more time, but they got close to a city and decided to stop there since they had the money for a little luxury.
It was at that moment that Geralt broke his silence. Jaskier simply decided to pay for two rooms instead of one.
Yes, ok, they had coin, but they never bothered about the thought of sharing a bed, they did it often and it would be nice to save what they have to buy winter supplies, Geralt was tired of saying that the bard needed a thicker cloak.
So without a second thought, when Jaskier stopped in front of his own room and told the Witcher that his was the third on the left, Geralt came in uninvited, closing the door behind him without much delicacy and watching Jaskier's eyes widen.
Geralt grunted, it wasn't working, things couldn't stay like this.
"I'm sorry" he said and the words came out in one breath, Jaskier still stares at him with wide eyes "About the festival."
He saw the bard press his lips, a painful expression on his face.
"I shouldn't have done that, I..." he took a deep breath, closing his eyes "I should have known it was too much, that it wasn't what you wanted. I'm sorry for forcing you."
When he opened his eyes again he didn't expect to see Jaskier's face so confused.
"What are you talking about?"
"The kiss" the Witcher said quietly, ashamed.
"Did you think I didn't want that?"
Jaskier stared at him, intense blue eyes searching for answers.
"You - You don't look at me anymore when talking" he said, feeling a tightness in his chest. "And you've been avoiding me. You made it clear how you feel about it."
Jaskier's expression softened and he sighed.
"Geralt ..." the bard's sympathetic tone made Geralt lower his eyes, that was it, now is the time when Jaskier would reject him and probably leave, he wasn't ready for that "Geralt, look at me."
He obeyed, the bard had approached a few steps, watching him carefully, reading his expressions.
"I'm not doing this because I didn't want the kiss."
"Then why?"
Jaskier looked away, pressing his lips.
"I-" he sighed "I know you only did this to maintain our cover and- I..."
He winced a little, Geralt approached, holding the bard's wrist gently.
"Tell me."
"This isn't how I wanted it" Jaskier said in a painful sigh "This isn't how I wanted to be our first time kissing" he closed his eyes, hesitating for a moment "I wanted it to mean something. To be real."
"It was real" Geralt put his hand on the bard's cheek, caressing "That day, at the festival, I like it. It felt like finally I could have you to myself.”
"Geralt..." Jaskier whispered, leaning into the touch with his eyes still closed.
"But then, I lost you again" he grimmaced with the thought "You started avoiding me and I thought- maybe I couldn't have you because you don't want to be mine. Because you don't want me to be yours."
Jaskier finally opened his eyes, the blue so bright threatened to drown Geralt.
"I'm sorry," he said, putting his hand over the one that was caressing his cheek. "I should have talked to you about it, but, Geralt, I was scared, I know you don't respond well to affection and I thought that if I suddenly told you everything I feel, you would leave me... again."
The last word was almost a whisper, but enough for Geralt to feel the knot in his stomach tighten.
"I won't leave you. I don't want to leave you. I'll stay by your side until you decide you don't want me around" he said, moving his thumb over the skin of the bard's face "Tell me, please, tell me what you feel. I want to hear... I need to hear."
The Witcher's voice sounded too vulnerable in his own ears and his eyes probably showed it too, because Jaskier looked surprised.
The bard took a deep breath, biting his lower lip and seemed to prepare himself mentally for what was going to happen, he took Geralt's hand from his face and placed it on his chest, where was possible to feel the racing beating of his heart.
"Can you feel it? My heart? Can't you tell what it means?" Geralt waited, feeling his own heart speed up in a way he didn't know it was capable of, as if it wanted to be in harmony with the bard's "I love you, Geralt."
Geralt felt like all the air was being taken from his lungs and his eyes widening.
Love.
That was a word he didn't know.
A word contrary to his whole existence, he knew destruction, he knew hurt.
He didn't know love.
He couldn't believe that Jaskier loved him, but he wanted to believe.
He wanted.
It was the longest seconds of his life as things fell into place in his mind. Jaskier loved him and he...
He knew he felt something.
Something strong.
Something beautiful.
A powerful thing that hurts so much, but that he didn't want it to stop.
And it grew more and more every time the bard smiled, every time their eyes met, every time he smelled the familiar smell of joy and falls in a comfort that he only associated with Jaskier.
Suddenly all the feelings he buried in 20 years of friendship submerged and drowned him.
He loved.
He could love.
He could be loved.
"I'm sorry if I..." the bard was still talking, clearly nervous "I know it's hard to hear something like that, but I've been loving you for a long time, Geralt and I really don't expect anything in return, I'm happy to be by your side and to travel together, to sing about you and being your friend. I- I understand if you want me to leave now, I can't say it won't hurt, but I wouldn't blame you if you ask-"
"Jaskier" he pulled the bard's hand towards him, imitating the movement the troubador made earlier and placing it over his heart, Jaskier opened his eyes wide, he knew Geralt's heartbeat and could see that they were a lot faster than normal "Can't you tell what it means?"
The silence was short-lived then the bard was smiling and, without any hesitation, grabbing the Witcher's shirt and pulling him in for a kiss.
Geralt melted with the intensity, wrapping his arms around Jaskier in the same way he had done a week ago, but this time, since Jaskier wasn't caught off guard, he commanded the kiss, his tongue meeting Geralt's, he let happy little sounds escape his throat and that was making the Witcher dizzy.
They went close to the bed, without stopping the kiss, Jaskier ran his hands over Geralt's chest, pulling the cloth up.
"Take it off" he said between kisses.
The witcher barely stepped away and quickly undressed, thanking the heavens for not putting on his armor that morning, wrapping his arms around Jaskier again.
The bard bit his lip, looking at Geralt's exposed chest.
"Why are you so ridiculously attractive?"
The Witcher smirked.
"You're not so bad yourself" he said placing his hands on Jaskier's hips "Your turn, take it off."
His voice came out deeper than usual and he could see Jaskier shiver.
And obviously, the bard did a performance for that. Geralt watched Jaskier's fingers slowly untie his clothes, the doublet falling over his shoulder towards the floor. The witcher grunted impatiently when the bard slowly slid his hands over his torso before grabbing his chemise where it was tucked in his trousers and pulling it up.
Geralt waited a total of five seconds with Jaskier shirtless in front of him before attacking his neck. The bard gasped, feeling the lips draw a straight line toward his shoulder.
The witcher buried his head in the curve of his neck, sniffing.
"Are you smelling me?" he could hear the amusemed in Jaskier's voice.
"You smell good." he replied, taking a deep breath and feeling the bard shivering again "Makes me want to devour you."
"Oh, what a big bad wolf, uh?" he laughed and Geralt tighten his fingers on his hip, snarling, but the fact that he was kissing Jaskier's neck didn't make him look so threatening.
The bard wrapped his arms around the Witcher, claiming his lips for himself again, the kiss growing in intensity, standing on the edge of desperation as they crawled on the bed.
Jaskier was lying on his back, with Geralt on him, feeling touches on the side of his body, goosebumps visible on his skin. The witcher down his face to the bard's chest, mouthing one of his nipples, reveling in the cry he heard in return.
Jaskier caressed what he could reach from Geralt's back, scratching as he bit his own lip for the attention his are nipples receiving: licked, nibbled and lightly squeezed.
Geralt was focused on feeling every part of the exposed skin with his tongue, intoxicated by Jaskier's scent and sounds.
"Let me touch you too" the bard pouted and gasped when the Witcher gave him a last lick.
"Later" he said, adjusting his posture, Jaskier watched him without even blinking.
"I told you I want to devour you" Geralt said with a wolfish smile, pushing the bard's body slightly to the side and making him lie face down. Jaskier let a sharp gasp escape when he felt the Witcher's hands caress his back scratching the skin a little. His hands went lower, reaching the waistband of his trousers. Geralt patted the troubadour on the hip and Jaskier lifted his body, allowing the clothes to be lowered to his thighs.
The Witcher felt a low growl crept up from his chest at the sight. The round ass, pale and looking incredibly smooth, he wanted to bite, hit, put some color on that skin. He squeezed one of the buttocks and Jaskier sighed deeply, going with his hips up, searching for the touch. Geralt pressed his fingers to the flesh, doing the same with the other cheek, spreading them.
"Like what you see?" the bard had turned his head back, smirking and winking at him and Geralt realized that he stayed longer than he planned watching Jaskier's hole slightly twitching.
He responded with a smirk and a brief slap on his ass - the surprised moan and the wave of arousal he could feel in response made Geralt keep that information for later - and brought his face close, blowing hot air over the puckered hole, feeling the bard stifle a hard shiver.
"Geralt..." he whispered softly and the Witcher answered with a Hmm, lips almost touching the place, he looked briefly at Jaskier, the troubadour was still staring at him, biting his lips. He raised an eyebrow as if asking for consent and Jaskier give him a quick nod.
Geralt smile predatorily before lowering his head.
He licked a straight, linear stripe, listening to Jaskier press his face against the pillow and let out a surprised, muffled moan. His movements with his tongue were slow and light, teasing and only around the bard's hole, with no pressure to penetrate and he could hear how much it affected Jaskier.
Jaskier spread his legs wider, giving the Witcher better access, letting out short moans, muffled by the fabric in which he buried his face.
The first time Geralt pressed the tip of his tongue into his hole and threatened to penetrate the sound he let out was so obscene that the Witcher felt his body tremble and grunted. Grunt that vibrated for Jaskier, pulling even more sounds out of his throat.
Geralt got a little lost in the task, the smell of lust, sweet and spicy, invading his nostrils, Jaskier's smell mixing with it made his mouth water and the licks got a little more messy.
He squeezed the bard's ass firmly, spreading it again, and finally his tongue went inside.
"Geralt!" Jaskier moaned, burying his face further in the pillow and biting it, his toes curling as the Witcher moved back and forth, in and out, trying to reach as deep as he could.
"Fuck, fuck, Geralt" Jaskier lost his composure and went with his hips back, grinding and Geralt groaned deep, closing his eyes, the simple idea of the bard riding his face setting his body on fire.
He didn't remember the last time he was so painfully hard.
Without stopping using his tongue, the Witcher slid his fingertip close to the hole, caressing the skin that was being slightly stretched. Jaskier moaned, tipping his head back, lifting it off the pillow.
"Oil." He said, “In my bag. Oil. Now."
Geralt huffed, amused, and the bard gasped briefly for the vibration it caused, before walking away.
"I should have known you're bossy even in bed."
"Now, Witcher." he tried to be sharp, but the smile on his face didn't help.
Unfortunately, Jaskier's bag was across the room and that meant taking his eyes off the bard, but Geralt could survive considering what would come next. Looking for the oil, he heard Jaskier adjust himself on the bed, probably taking his clothes off completely.
With the bottle in hand he turned and immediately felt his cock throbbing in his too tight trousers.
Jaskier had improved his previous position, on his knees, the side of his face pressed into the pillow in a way that would no longer muffle his voice and raised his hips perfectly on display. He held his own ass open, index finger slowly slid over his hole, caressing lightly as he bit his lip.
"Fuck" Geralt growled and crossed the distance between them, quickly getting on his knees between the bard's legs and resuming his previous activity without even hesitating.
Jaskier moaned loudly and it made something like pride grow along with the excitement in his chest, Geralt untied his own pants, hands free since Jaskier kept himself open while being eaten.
The Witcher lowered his pants just enough to keep his dick free, but he didn't touch himself, he couldn't lose control now, there still a lot of sounds he wanted to get out of Jaskier and, oh, he would. He'll leave Jaskier in a state where the only thing he'll remember will be Geralt's name, the only thing he'll be able to do is beg, moan and feel.
"Geralt!" the bard whined, the Witcher's tongue moving vigorous "More."
Geralt liked that tone.
Demanding, but wrecked.
He moved away, taking the almost forgotten bottle that was next to his knee and opening the cork with his teeth. Jaskier turned his head enough to watch what was going on from the corner of his eye.Geralt coated his fingers and poured some of the liquid into Jaskier's rear, watching him shiver at the contact. He slowly press a finger over the hole.
"Okay?" He asked.
"For all that is most sacred, Geralt, put your fingers inside me now before I do that myself."
The witcher smirked, slowly penetrating only the tip of his finger and watching Jaskier bite his lip.
"Like this?"
The bard grunted.
"Obviously you would develop a sense of humor in such a situation" as an answer Geralt penetrated just a little more, slowly "Geralt if I wasn't in the position I'm right now, I swear I would punch you in the face."
The Witcher laughed, a low, rough sound, but it seemed to melt Jaskier.
He stopped teasing, finally sliding the digit all the way through, paying attention to Jaskier's breathing in case anything indicated that the bard wanted to stop. He tried to move circularly and then in and out, drawing short gasps from the troubadour.
"More" didn't take long for Jaskier to speak.
He slid in one more oiled finger, this time scissoring and thrusting, listening to the changes in the bard's tone of voice.
It didn't take long before his fingertips touched a bundle of nerves that made Jaskier's hips tremble and a high-pitched cry escaped his throat.
"Hmm" Geralt repeated the movement, holding the bard's hip with the free hand and preventing him from pushing into his fingers, seeing his hole clenching around the fingers.
"Geralt..." Jaskier pouted and whined in such a wonderful and adorable way that make the Witcher remind that his dick was still painfully hard and desperate for attention.
He increased the speed of his fingers' movement, thrusting them harder, stopping to caress the place that made Jaskier moan so beautifully for him.
"More. Geralt, Nhn! More” he let out a cry.
"Fuck, Jask" he said, watching his fingers being sucked in the heat of Jaskier's body, before sliding his third finger in and hearing the bard whine out of breath. "You have no idea what you do to me."
His voice was hoarse than usual and his other hand tightened the grip on the bard's thigh.
“Do you know how fucking good you look when you wear those tighter pants? Do you have any idea how your ass looks in that? ” Geralt was grunting, increasing the strenght in his thrusts.
Jaskier's laugh was immediately cut off by a moan.
"I can assure you - ahn - I know very well."
“I thought about doing this more than once” he leaned forward, kissing the curve of the bard's ass “At camp during the night, when you're walking in front of me during the day, when we're in a river bathing together, when you're playing and dancing and looking so pleased with all the eyes on you, all the time.”
He bit the spot and Jaskier moaned louder.
“I thought about taking you in the forest, fucking you against a tree, devouring you like I did. Every time we sleep in the same bed I just wanted to press into you, have you in my mouth and feel your mouth on me. Fuck, Jaskier, I wanted to take you at that damn festival against that fucking arch.”
His fingers flinched a little, pressing on Jaskier's sweet spot and he could hear the low "yes, yes" that the bard was letting out while listening to Geralt.
"Fuck me" Jaskier said, loud and clear even though his voice trembled a little "Take me, Geralt, make me yours."
The Witcher let out a possessive grunt and pulled his fingers out of the bard in one movement, hearing a brief sound of protest for that. Without hesitation he grabbed Jaskier's hips, turning him over and laying him on his back.
He would have worried if it was too rough if he could focus on something other than what Jaskier was looking like.
Flushed face, mouth half open, panting, dilated pupils and a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead, his skin glistening with the thin layer of sweat and his cock resting on his stomach, red, hard, the tip wet with pre come.
Fuck. He's gorgeous. And finally Geralt could have him.
The Witcher leaned over and kissed him intensely, trying to make it clear in the act all the things he hadn't said yet, making clear that it's more than lust, more than just a one night or a quick fuck.
He wanted Jaskier.
He needed Jaskier.
The bard crossed legs around his waist and arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and trying to bring the bodies even closer. Geralt let himself be pulled down, pinning the troubadour with his own body, melting in the kiss, his body wanting to join Jaskier's until none of them know where one started and the other ended.
He would be content to be like this forever if it weren't for his cock rubbing against the bard's ass, desperate for some relief.
"Geralt-" Jaskier tried to say between the kisses "Geralt- Mmf, gods- Get inside me. Now."
The witcher was more than pleased to obey. He moved away, already missing the touch and picked up the oil bottle again, pouring the liquid over his hand and spreading it over his cock.
He was unable to repress the groan that escaped him at the touch.
"Fuck" the bard sighed, looking at him and biting his lips when he realized he let the swear out without thinking.
"We can stop if you want to" Geralt said hoarsely, grabbing the base of his dick.
He know he's bigger than the average and he also know that it's a lot harder for men to take him all, so he wouldn't blame Jaskier if the answer was yes.
"If you stop now I'll write a ballad about that time you were knocked out by that baby kikimore."
Geralt laughed, stealing a brief kiss.
"I like when you laugh" the bard said sincerely, a fond look on his face.
The Witcher felt his own expression soften.
"You have that effect on me" he said, leaning in for another kiss. Jaskier tightened his legs around Geralt's waist when he felt the tip of his cock brush against his hole.
"Okay?" he asked again, feeling the bard's smile touching his lips.
"Yes" the bard replied and Geralt guided into him slowly.
Jaskier tilted his head back, his moan resonating with the Witcher's.
Geralt felt a shock go up his spine as he bottomed out, the heat that enveloped his cock clouding his mind. He only managed to breathe properly again when he felt he was fully inside. Deep.
Jaskier had closed his eyes, mouth open letting out small sounds of delight.
"Fuck" he whined "Geralt."
His name said in that tone, in a broken moan between too much and not enough, was now the Witcher's favorite sound.
He waited for Jaskier to get used to it, fingers twitching as they squeezed the flesh of Jaskier's thigh, it was a difficult task, every cell in his body screamed to move. He almost sighed with relief when he felt the bard's hip grinding against him.
"Move" it was an order.
He obeyed, but as slowly as possible, without completely pulling out, still apprehensive that he might hurt Jaskier in some way.
The bard grunted impatiently and clenches tight around Geralt.
A groan escaped the Witcher as if it was punched out of his throat.
"Jaskier" he stopped, saying as a warning.
"I can take it" he bit his lip "Fuck, i want it."
"Tell me to stop and I'll stop."
Jaskier laughed, softly.
“Gods, you’re adorable” Geralt felt the tip of his ears turning hot “Come here, you big oaf.”
The bard pulled him in for a quick kiss, grinding his hips as much as he could and Geralt wasn't in enough control to make him stop.
"Hmm... Good" Jaskier bit the Witcher's lower lip "Now fuck me properly."
How could he say no to that?
Geralt went forward, kissing Jaskier again and moved in a sharp and quick experimental thrust. Jaskier gasped, moving a hand to his hair and tangling his fingers there.
Geralt murmured between the kiss, pleased and repeated the movement.
At first it didn't have a rhythm, Geralt testing boundaries and Jaskier too busy getting to know every corner of the Witcher's mouth. He shifts his weight, laid his body further down and heard Jaskier moan loudly, the position causing him to go even deeper and slide so perfectly inside that he hit the bard's prostate.
“Geralt! Ah- Geralt! ” Jaskier pulled his hair tightly, curling his toe while the Witcher fucked him harder. Geralt groaned, bringing his lips to the troubadour's neck, kissing with his mouth open, feeling Jaskier shiver every time he brushed his teeth over the pulse.
He held the bard's free hand on the bed, next to his face, intertwining his fingers as he moved his hips back and forth in sharper movements. Jaskier met his movements, grinding his hips, arching his back so that Geralt could hit him precisely in the right spot.
He could hear the bard babbling incoherent things between moans, calling his name, swearing, asking for more, for him.
“Fuck! Feels so good! Geralt- Ah!"
And Geralt felt his entire body vibrating as he groans, control escaping him like sand between his fingers, Jaskier clenching around him, taking his lips, pulling his hair, the thighs that held him so tightly forcing him to be even closer, even deeper.
He's destroyed for anyone other than Jaskier and that was exactly what he wanted. To claim and be claimed.
He brought his lips to Jaskier's neck again, but this time he bit the spot, earning a whine in response.
"Do you want to mark me?" the bard asked breathlessly, eyes half open, Geralt could feel the wetness of his pre come between their bodies “Go on, Witcher. Bite me. Let everyone see and know that I'm yours.”
Geralt growled possessively before sinking his teeth into the spot, the loud, obscene sound Jaskier made was almost as good as the tightening he felt around his cock.
“Yes. Yes! Geralt-“ the Witcher nibbled every part of his skin, his hips faltering a little while the sensations grew and took over his body.
He was close.
And could feel that Jaskier was close too.
He straightened up, his chest no longer touching Jaskier's, and pulled the bard's hip toward him, one hand gripping his thigh and the other wrapped around his neglected cock. The troubadour seemed to choke on a moan at the touch, forcing his eyes to remain open as he looked at Geralt, blue swallowed by the dark of his pupils.
The witcher stroked him at the same speed as the thrusts, each time his hips were meeting Jaskier's harder and he could see that Jaskier was a mess, wrecked as much as he was, his clenching hole and his twitching cock, his breath irregular and the way he's almost sobbing.
The most beautiful sight Geralt has ever seen.
"Sing for me, Jask" he said low and rough, hitting the bard's prostate and twisting his wrist just right.
Jaskier sang. A melodic moan, eyes closed and head falling on the pillow as he came, staining his stomach with white strips.
Geralt may or may not have cursed, he didn't know, all he could concentrate on was the sensation of Jaskier's body clenching around him, impossible tight, making him lost the rhythm, hips snapping forward and heart beating faster than it should and in a few more thrusts a low, rough sound escaped his throat, echoing through the room along with Jaskier's almost overstimulation cries and his vision goes white as he came inside Jaskier.
Then he helped Jaskier uncross his legs, carefully pulling out - hearing a last groan from both - and let his body fall forward, half on top of Jaskier and half on the bed. His head rested on Jaskier's chest, listening to his heart return to its normal rhythm. The bard start caressing the Witcher's hair.
"We need a bath" he said, but made no effort to move.
"Hm"
For the first time Geralt felt that he could sleep without any effort. Jaskier's body next to his, the touches, the feeling of ecstasy after sex...
It was a few minutes of comfortable silence, the bard clearly too tired to chatter - and Geralt was proud to have been the reason for that - when something came to mind.
"I'm yours too" he said, lower than he intended.
"Hm?" was the answer, fingers still caressing his hair.
"You said. To mark you as mine. So I want you to know that I'm yours too.”
Jaskier's heart beat a little faster and that would worry Geralt if it weren't for the smell of total delight and joy and love.
That was probably enough for Jaskier, but something inside was begging him to speak. He wanted to make sure the bard knew.
"At the festival" he said after a while in silence, but he knew that Jaskier was still awake "You called me husband."
The bard answered with a soft "Hm" - oh, the tables have turned - and waited for the Witcher to continue.
“It was… Good” he cleared his throat “And it made me think. Maybe one day it could be... real. If you still want to stay by my side.”
He risked raising his face to look at the bard.
Jaskier's eyes were wide and he stayed like this for seconds that seemed like eternity, Geralt was thinking of an excuse to take away what he said until Jaskier realized the weight and the true meaning of the Witcher's words.
If there was one thing Geralt would never tire of looking at, it was that smile, illuminating Jaskier's face and eyes as he looked like Geralt had given him the stars.
"There is nothing in the world that I would want more than that." he replied in a soft, melodic voice and Geralt felt a smile spread across his face.
Maybe one day, he thought, maybe one day he could hold Jaskier's hand without worrying about what would come in the future.
Perhaps one day he'll have a place to call home and, if not, at least he already have someone that make him feel at home.
Maybe one day he would be able to put into words everything he feel.
"We could head to the coast" he told the bard.
And until that day came, he knew that that was enough for Jaskier, that he was fluent in the vocabulary of his Witcher and could understand the "I love you" between those words.