#ace!geralt

“Hmmm, well…” Jaskier started, fiddling with the small buttons on his chemise and exposing a red mark high on his chest. Fuck. Geralt shifted, dropping a hand to readjust his trousers and regretting having not changed into something more comfortable. Jaskier watched him do this and his grin spread, getting brighter and taking on a filthy edge. “We did it behind the tavern,” he added, plucking at a button close to his neck, unfastening it to expose his thick chest hair, making Geralt’s thoughts momentarily grind to a halt. 

Laying his palm flat against the newly exposed part of his chest, Jaskier continued. “He was a brute, darling. About as wide as an ox with a prick to match…” Jaskier paused, eyes flitting across to Geralt again as he bit his bottom lip softly. Geralt gave him a small nod, encouraging him to continue as he plucked at the fastenings on his trousers.

Jaskier moved across the mattress so he was sat closer to Geralt, a hand hovering slightly near the other man’s calf as he met Geralt’s eyes. “You can touch,” Geralt spoke softly, shuddering softly as Jaskier’s fingers trailed up his ankle and pushed his trouser leg up slightly so his fingers could curl around his calf.

“I’d seen him watching, gave him the signal, and he took me out back. Shoved me against the wall and practically tore my trousers off, bloody bastard. I’ll have to check in the morning make sure nothing’s ruined…” Jaskier stopped talking when Geralt cleared his throat, and when Jaskier looked at Geralt he noticed one of those broad hands he loved so much was inside his underwear, those thick, calloused fingers wrapped around his prick. 

Jaskier didn’t mind their arrangement. He knew how Geralt felt, the two of them had spent years dancing around their feelings for each other because of this. Because Geralt didn’t want like Jaskier did, never had, and he’d thought as a result Jaskier would never look twice at him. 

If only Jaskier had been honest sooner, had poured out his heart to Geralt and told him how madly, deeply in love he was with him. If only Geralt hadn’t feared rejection because the thought of being physically intimate with someone made his skin crawl.

When the conversation had finally happened, having run into each other on the road for the first time since The Mountain Bullshit, as Jaskier had taken to referring to it, having sat in a tavern and actually talked about their feelings, how hard the time apart had been, Geralt had been terrified. Terrified of rejection, of the one person who had always accepted him as he was thinking him some sort of freakish monster like everyone else did. But Jaskier had, for once in his life, gone quiet, looked down at his hands where they were wrapped around a tankard of ale before looking back to Geralt and offering him a small smile. “I’d happily never have sex again if it meant getting to tell you how much I love you,” Jaskier had said, and Geralt hadn’t believed him, initially. He’d expected Jaskier’s eye to wander, his hands to stray. 

Not once did Jaskier look at someone else with heat in his eyes. Not once did he try to seduce a fair maiden or a strapping young man. He would simply fall into Geralt’s arms, would give him a gentle kiss and tell Geralt he was the love of his life. 

Coming to their arrangement had been harder work. Geralt didn’t want Jaskier’s needs going unmet and knew he couldn’t provide. He didn’t want Jaskier getting bored of trading kisses and settling for jerking off because Geralt couldn’t do more than kiss and cuddle, and the first time he’d hesitantly suggested Jaskier follow after a pretty, buxom barmaid who’d spent half the night trying to catch Jaskier’s eye, the other half curling her blonde ringlets around slight fingers coyly, Jaskier had looked like Geralt had slapped him across the face.

They’d argued, then, the first argument since becoming lovers. Geralt’s inability to find the words he needed were almost their downfall, and had it not been for Jaskier’s constant patience, they surely would’ve ended up going their separate ways again, a repeat of the mountain only much more tragic, far more final.

Instead, Jaskier had forced a talk, taken several deep breaths and sat down carefully, before asking why Geralt wanted him to take someone else to bed. Geralt, feeling hot all over, skin tight with humiliation, had finally spilled the truth. That while having sex didn’t appeal to him, Jaskier having sex did. He wanted to know his lover was satisfied, he wanted to hear the stories Jaskier would have to share. His cock had throbbed, all those years ago, thinking of Jaskier’s anonymous trysts.

When the penny dropped, Jaskier had grinned from ear to ear. “You want me to tell you about it? Want me to fuck and be fucked, then come tell you all the sordid details...?” Geralt felt like he was burning, cheeks flaming hot, but Jaskier was smiling, he didn’t look repulsed or horrified. Far from it. In fact, once Geralt had responded in the positive, nodding and blushing and stuttering out a “yes”, Jaskier had cupped his cheeks and leaned in for a deep, tender kiss.

And so, here they were. In another rented room above a tavern, where Jaskier had played songs for the locals while Geralt looked for work. Their eyes had met across the room when Geralt had finished speaking with the alderman, he’d gestured upwards briefly before taking his leave. He’d waited patiently, consulting his notes on the creature believed to be plaguing the village, picking at a plate of food and mug of ale that had been sent up for him, soaking up the heat from the fire in the hearth. It was perfect, save for the absence of his bard. 

The bard had stood to undo the fastenings on his own clothes while Geralt’s mind had wandered. He tugged his chemise over his head to expose a scattering of red marks across his chest and stomach, some mouth shaped and others more scrapes and scratches. His trousers were dropped next, and while they weren’t torn, the seat of them was ruined, wet and tacky as the devious bastard had foregone underwear after his encounter. Jaskier stood before Geralt completely bare, the glow from the lamp by the bed and the fireplace illuminating his body and causing Geralt’s breath to catch in his throat. Gods, if he wasn’t a lucky bastard. 

Geralt gestured at the space next to him, huffing fondly as Jaskier sprawled out. Geralt shuffled to sit, unbuttoning his own shirt and shrugging it from his shoulders before resettling, draping one of Jaskier’s arms over his chest. Yeah, that was better. Much better than a hand on his calf. 

“Tell me everything,” Geralt breathed, turning onto his side so he could comb his fingers through the hair on Jaskier’s chest, gently tugging on the coarse curls. Leaning in closer, Geralt dared to drop a tiny kiss to one lightly furred shoulder, looking up in time to catch the bright smile spreading across Jaskier’s beautiful face.

Jaskier shifted, turning onto his side to face Geralt, and ran his tongue over pink lips. “Well. He took me outside, like I said. Practically tore at my clothes. He groaned when he found I’d stretched myself open already, called me a pretty little whore,” Geralt couldn’t help the frown that creased his forehead at that word, which caused Jaskier to huff a soft laugh. “No need to worry for my virtue, darling, we both know I have none.” Jaskier leans in anyway, lips lightly grazing Geralt’s in a kiss. “Thank you, though, you sweet fool,” Geralt huffed at that, pushing at Jaskier who just laughed before continuing.

“He asked if I spread my legs for anyone, which of course is ridiculous,” Jaskier continued, gently stroking his hand down Geralt’s arm. He took Geralt's hand in his own and squeezed, linking their fingers together. Geralt let out a shuddery breath, using their joined hands to take hold of his prick, teasing his thumb over the head slowly and gasping. 

Jaskier kissed Geralt’s chest softly, lips leaving a trail from his clavicle across to the spot where he could feel his slow heartbeat the strongest, nuzzling at the soft, furred skin. “He pushed my chemise up first, scratched at me and twisted my nipples until I thought my knees were gonna give out. Bit my shoulder when I wouldn’t let him kiss me, then he spun me around and shoved me into the wall.” 

As he spoke, Geralt slowly moved their joined hands, fingers gliding up and down over hard flesh. Once, while deep in his cups, Jaskier had bemoaned that the greatest injustice in his life was not getting to touch the glorious appendage between Geralt’s legs. Geralt, equally as drunk, had laughed, took one of Jaskier’s hands and guided it between his spread thighs, cupping himself with Jaskier’s hand, and had promised him they’d touch it together in future. Geralt had kept that promise, making sure every time he touched himself while they were together, Jaskier touched him too. 

Geralt gasped softly as their callouses -his own from wielding swords for decades, Jaskier’s from plucking strings- caught on his ultra sensitive skin, and he could feel Jaskier grinning where he’d leaned close to press his face into Geralt’s shoulder again. “I could feel the stone scraping my skin, he had one hand on my back as he kicked my legs open, yanked my trousers down as far as he could. Gods, Geralt.” Jaskier’s hand tightened briefly, drawing another gasp from deep in Geralt’s chest. 

The fingers on Jaskier’s free hand trailed over his own bare skin, tweaking at his own nipple briefly before dipping between his legs. He completely bypassed his stiff prick, elegant fingers dipping lower to tease at his hole. It was Jaskier’s turn to gasp as he toyed gently with the puffy rim, dipping a fingertip inside and moaning brokenly at the heat, the wetness. “He-” Jaskier started, his breath hitching as his fingers plunged a little deeper. Geralt felt his mouth going dry, the wet, sucking sounds and the musky, sweaty smell in the air, the fucking sounds Jaskier was making, these quiet whines from deep in his chest.

Geralt bit down on his lower lip as he moved their joined hands faster, and his hips stuttered forward as Jaskier ran his thumb over the head, teasing at his slit and humming as a burst of precome leaked out, slicking the way for their hands further. “His… his cock, Geralt. He was almost as big as you, long and thick. He spat on it, on me to slick the way. Fucking burned as he pushed in, and-” Jaskier cut himself off to groan, hand still moving between his own legs as he fucked the sticky mess out of his own hole with his fingers, which in turn only made Geralt harder, more desperate.

“And my legs, fuck. They almost gave out, Geralt. He- he had to grab me around the waist, one thick arm digging into my belly as he pressed himself against my back. His… his gut kept pushing into me, bumping me back into the wall. The whole time he spoke pure filth, bit at my shoulders and my neck while telling me what a good little whore I am, asking how I was so tight… he was almost perfect, my love.” Jaskier was almost breathless as he spoke, as he lifted his hand from between his legs and played with the sticky spend clinging to his fingers before wiping them off on the bedding beneath him, tilting his eyes back up to Geralt with blown wide eyes. Geralt’s own breath caught in his chest before he leaned in for a kiss, lips clumsy as the two of them worked their hands faster, more purposefully over Geralt’s prick, an edge of desperation tinting their every move now. 

“Fu-fuck, Jask, Julek, I’m close,” Geralt almost whined between panted breaths, nipping at Jaskier’s full bottom lip with his teeth. Jaskier simply nodded, eyes turning down to look at where their fingers were still linked, a thick, broad palm under his own working fast, stripping over a thickness Jaskier had longed to feel, that he was content to see and touch however Geralt allowed him to. Jaskier leaned in again, resting his forehead against his lover’s.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Wanna see it, wanna feel it,” Their breaths mingling, Jaskier pressed his forehead against Geralt’s even tighter, his free hand coming up to rest on the other man’s back, holding him as close as he could. “Wh-when he came, he all but roared, Geralt. Ground it into me, before he pulled out and laughed. Said I’d ruin my pretty trousers, cheeky fucker. He didn’t get me off, just… put himself away and thanked me for a good time before he left. Had to do this, same as you, before I came back to you...”

“And that’s what had Geralt shooting off, teeth gritted together as he came hard between them. Through his gritted teeth, an almost pained whine came, and his head hung lower, face hidden in Jaskier’s bare shoulder. “Fuck,” Geralt gasped, taking a few seconds to catch his breath before laughing softly, dropping a tender kiss to the soft skin under his lips. The sound of Geralt’s laughter, a rare and beautiful thing, set Jaskier off as well, a delighted sound bubbling up from deep within his chest as he cupped Geralt’s face in his hands and tilted his face up to kiss him softly, a sweet press of lips as they both caught their breath.

“Gods, I love you,” Jaskier said as he caught Geralt’s eye, taking in the faint pink high on his cheekbones and the sweet, sleepy smile on his lovely lips as he puffed out a warm breath. Geralt’s eyes closed as he looked down, lips curling into a shy smile. 

Amber eyes blinked back open slowly, and he stroked one large hand up Jaskier’s side, burying fingers in thick dark hair as he brought their foreheads close again. “I love you too, Jaskier, with all I have,” he spoke softly, leaning in to brush his nose along Jaskier’s cheek, nuzzling as he cuddled up closer. 

Geralt inhaled deeply and his face soured. “Fucking hell, we stink,” Geralt groaned as he rolled onto his back, pushing himself up to fetch a cloth. He didn’t mind the smell of sex, particularly. He could appreciate the musk, the sweat and salt of it all, but Jaskier smelled of another man, and Geralt couldn’t abide by that. Coming back to the bed, he stopped to take in the sight of Jaskier, sprawled out and content, his long limbs spread out and all that hair. Jaskier simply smiled at him, bending his knees to rest his feet flat on the bed, and Geralt could see the mess still leaking from his hole, the ring still stretched open and puffy red.

Sinking onto the mattress between his spread thighs, Geralt stroked a hand over furred skin, humming softly as he gently wiped him clean on the outside. “Can I check inside...?” he asked carefully, peering up into soft blue eyes and Jaskier nodded, reaching a hand down to stroke over long white locks. 

Geralt carefully inserted one finger inside of Jaskier, listening intently for any hitches in his breath that may indicate pain, feeling for anything untoward, and then withdrew. Satisfied, Geralt dropped a tiny kiss to Jaskier’s inner thigh and laid his head there for a moment, breathing in the clean smell of both himself and Jaskier and sighing contently before crawling up the bed to lay beside him.

Jaskier let out a happy sound once they were face to face again and with a sated smile on his face, he stretched and curled himself around the other man, sinking into Geralt’s warmth as strong arms enveloped him. “Thank you, my darling,” Jaskier almost whispered, face tucked carefully into Geralt’s neck. 

Somehow, Jaskier snuggled even closer, humming a soft melody. Geralt’s fingers twitched and he couldn’t resist running a hand through Jaskier’s hair.

He felt Jaskier smile against him.

“I like that. I like that a lot.”

So did Geralt. He wanted to say it back, and yet… Guilt crept through him. If he said that he liked touching Jaskier, Jaskier would surely assume that he would like more as well. He would maybe hug him more often, which would be wonderful. He would maybe kiss him, which would be fine. And then, he would expect them to sleep together. And Geralt wouldn’t be able to do it. He had thought about it, of course. He had considered telling Jaskier how he felt and living with the fact that if Jaskier felt the same way, sooner or later he would have to sleep with him, if that’s what it took to keep him by his side. But he didn’t want that. The thought of having sex was enough to send an unpleasant shiver down his spine, but it would be unfair to deprive Jaskier of something that was important to him.

Jaskier made a small sound of happiness, as he nuzzled against him and Geralt tensed. He couldn’t keep doing this. He was leading Jaskier on. As much as he ached to hold Jaskier like this every minute of his life, he couldn’t pretend that he wouldn’t disappoint Jaskier eventually. He had done it before. When he had been sore from riding all day, Jaskier had massaged him, rubbing chamomile all over him. It would have had been the perfect opportunity to make advances. Geralt had tensed under Jaskier’s hands, dreading that the touches would change into something Geralt didn’t want. They hadn’t. Jaskier had not touched him in any way that wasn’t intended on anything other than releasing the tension in his muscles. It had been a relief, and still Geralt had felt like he had let Jaskier down in some way. Just as he was about to now.

The arms around him loosened a bit. Geralt’s heart clenched painfully, when Jaskier pulled back and looked at him with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes flickered over Geralt’s face even though he wouldn’t be able to see in the dark. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. We can stop, if you don’t like this.”

Jaskier made to lie back into his own side of the bed. He looked so crestfallen, with his eyes downcast and the nervous laugh a pitiful attempt to mask his discomfort.

Panic surged through Geralt. He needed Jaskier to understand.

“I don’t want to have sex with you.” Geralt froze. He wanted to take the words back as soon as he had blurted them out. He was so stupid. Jaskier deserved to know, of course, but this was the worst way to tell him. In the best case, Jaskier would be insulted, thinking that Geralt didn’t like his appearance. In the worst case, he would finally realise that witchers had no emotions, that Geralt’s mutations had broken him and that Jaskier would be better off leaving him.

“What?” Jaskier haltered in his movement. As far as Geralt could see, there was no hurt on his face, only confusion and surprise. But he couldn’t be sure. Jaskier loved having sex. He had to be disappointed.

“I think you’re pretty.” The words escaped him, without thinking. The urge to explain what he didn’t even understand himself, became overwhelming. “Your eyes are beautiful and your hair is so soft I want to touch it and seeing you smile makes me happy. But I…I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Alright,” Jaskier said slowly. “And thanks, I think you’re pretty too.”

A blush crept over Jaskier’s face. He clearly didn’t understand what Geralt had just said.

“I like what we just did. But I don’t want to have sex,” Geralt repeated, the words still feeling foreign and bitter on his tongue. Never before had he admitted this out loud, but it was important that Jaskier understood.

“Great,” Jaskier said lightly and he even sounded a bit…relieved? No, it couldn’t be. “To be honest, I don’t really want to have sex with you either.  I mean, I’d be happy to, if you wanted to, but I much prefer just cuddling. I don’t really look at people and want to sleep with them. So, like I said, you are beautiful. But when I look at you, I mainly see that you look like you give wonderful hugs. And I was right.”

Something warm spread through Geralt’s chest. It was strange, but knowing that Jaskier didn’t think of him in a sexual way made relief wash over him. Relief and confusion.

“But…but you are human,” he said carefully. “Humans are attracted to others. That’s what everyone says. I know I am different. Witchers aren’t human, we don’t have emotions. We don’t love.”

“Yes, you do,” Jaskier said firmly and sat up in bed, looming over Geralt with a hint of fury in his eyes. “Who you are attracted to sexually, has nothing to do with being human or being able to love. You are not less human for not wanting sex.”

“So it has nothing to do with me being a witcher? It is me who is broken?” The words tasted bitter in his mouth.

“No. Nothing about you is broken, Geralt.” Jaskier’s tone became soft. “I am like you. I don’t need sex to love someone. I don’t mind it either, it feels nice and it’s fun, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am not attracted to people that way. Do you think I am broken?”

Geralt shook his head. How could wonderful, caring, beautiful Jaskier ever be broken?

“And I am human, yes?”

Geralt nodded.

“And I love you.”

Geralt’s heart skipped a beat. His mouth went dry. “You what?”

“I love you. And I don’t want to have sex with you. Do you think I love you any less because of that?”

It was too much. Geralt’s eyes started burning. Jaskier loved him. He wasn’t broken and Jaskier loved him and he didn’t expect Geralt to give him something he wasn’t comfortable giving.

“I love you too.” Geralt’s throat was tight, as he pressed the word forth. “This is really enough for you?” It couldn’t be true. It was too good. Too perfect.

“You are enough for me. More than enough. Would sleeping with me make you happy?”

“I… no, It wouldn’t.” Something in Geralt’s chest loosened, as Jaskier smiled at him. It was so freeing finally saying it and not having guilt sweep over him because of it.

“Then it wouldn’t make me happy either.”

Carefully, Jaskier laid back down, his head tugged into Geralt’s shoulder and his hand resting above his heart. He was so pretty. So loving. He was more than Geralt deserved or ever thought he would have. Gently, Geralt pressed a kiss into Jaskier’s hair.

A smile flashed over Jaskier’s face. “You know what makes me happy though?” Jaskier said quietly. “Just this. What we have right now. Just laying here with you. Loving you. Holding you. That’s more than enough for me. That’s everything.”

Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier, pulling his closer.

____________

Geralt woke up feeling too hot and even with his mind in a sleep-addled haze, he knew exactly why.

“Dandelion!” He growled in exasperation but still found himself petting the poet’s soft curls.

Dandelion hummed sleepily and nuzzled closer to Geralt’s chest. Their legs were completely entangled as Dandelion clung to him tightly even in his sleep. Geralt wasn’t even surprised. This happened every night. Dandelion was a cuddler and he had no shame about it. It had been a shock at first but after so many years Geralt found he actually enjoyed the closeness of another body pressed against his without the pressure of sex. He didn’t hate sex, but he could live without it. He tended to only really partake for his partners’ benefit.

Still, the unicorn had really been a step too far.

This though. Cuddling in the mornings with his best friend. He enjoyed it, but Dandelion would become insufferable if he admitted it. So after a few more seconds gently stroking his fingers through Dandelion’s hair he pushed the poet to the floor.

Dandelion yelped as he landed and peered up at Geralt with a wounded expression.

“I said hands to yourself.” Geralt smirked.

“You are a cruel tyrant, Geralt of Rivia,” Dandelion pouted. “very cruel indeed!”

______

He rented a room with one bed, as they often did, despite there being enough coin for one with two. Jaksier hardly noticed, flouncing off to play a few sets for the locals while Geralt went upstairs to prepare. 

He felt the characteristic tightening of his stomach and the shakiness that always came with this particular activity, but he stripped down obediently, even talking the time to rub some of the oils Jaskier liked to much into his hair before laying down on the bed to wait. 

He didn’t have to wait long. “Geralt! You’ll never believe th- whoa, were you expecting someone?” He stood in the doorway awkwardly.

“Just you,” Geralt grunted. They should get this over with. 

“Me? Geralt...did you think I wanted to have sex with you?”

“Well...” Geralt picked at the blanket, feeling foolish for having to explain himself, he thought that humans should understand these things. “Humans always need me for something. And you dont need a monster killed, so I figured....” “Oh dear heart,” Jaskier walked over and sat down on the bed next to him, running his fingers though his hair. “Please do not take this the wrong way, but I do not want to have sex with you.”

“You don’t?” Geralt was shocked. “But...humans....”

“Not all humans like sex Geralt. I certainly don’t. It makes me skin crawl and I feel all weird after. So I don’t do it. I’m still plenty romantic with people, but I dont get into bed with them.” “Hmm.” Jaskier didn’t like sex either? Maybe it wasn't a human thing after all.

“What it Geralt? That was your I’m-Contemplating-Something hum.”

“It...makes my skin crawl too.” He said carefully after a few moments. 

Jaskier’s hand slowed in his hair. “Dear heart,” he began carefully. “Do you like sex?”

Did he? No one had ever asked him what he wanted before. He didnt think he did. It didnt feel pleasant and he usually had to jump in a cold stream after. “No.”

“Then why did you want to do it with me?” “You’re human,” Geralt shrugged. “Humans either want me to kill monsters or want me in their bed. I serve humans, I can’t turn them down. You are a human.” 

"But you dont like sex?”

“No. I’m a Witcher. It’s probably the mutations. But can still get by.” Actually, now that he thought about it, from what he remembered, he’d never been much interested in it before the trials either.

“Geralt,” Jaskier tilted his chin up to look at him and he saw sadness swirling in his eyes. “Not wanting to have sex is not a Witcher thing. Plenty of humans feel the same way too. Admittedly there aren't many of us, I’ve only come across a few in my lifetime, and I think there's a word for it but I can’t remember it right now. Sex does not interest me either, but there are far more other important things in a relationship than just sex.”

Geralt was confused. “But sex is the only thing people ever wanted me for.” 

“And I’m terribly sorry about that, dear heart, but you’re with me now and I will never make you have sex with me. Have you ever- or wait, is there anything else that you dont like?”

Geralt’s head was spinning, and he was still stuck on the part where Jaskier had said that he would never make Geralt have sex with him. For the first time that evening, he felt his hands stop their shaking and something like warmth bloom inside him. “Hmm?”

“Is there anything else you dont like doing? Besides the sex bit I mean.”

Besides sex....Geralt tried to remember what came along with laying with someone. He usually blocked it all out after. “Kissing,” he finally said. “Burns my skin.”

“Alright, we’ll do none of that then.” Jaskier moved from the bed, beginning to take off his doublet and Geralt seized up for a second, afraid that Jaskier was going go back on his word, but then he reached for his nightclothes. “Are you familiar with cuddling?”

“Cuddling?” The word felt unfamiliar in his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jaskier smiled. “Go put your nightclothes on. I think I have something that you will enjoy far better than that nasty sex business.”

So here it was then, Jasper did need him for a service after all. Geralt got out of bed and slowly pulled on his night clothes, painfully aware this would be their last night together before they parted ways for good, before returning to the bed. 

“Right, so youre just going to lay on your side, yes right like that, and then I lay behind you, see? And I put my arm around you like this, and we snuggle.” Jaskier’s breath tickled his hair.

“What do we do though?” “What do you mean, what do we do?” Despite Jaskier’s words though, he didnt seem angry. “This is it. We hold each other and enjoy each others presence. We can change positions, if you want, like you can take a turn holding me for example or I could lay on your chest, but we just hold each other close. Show each other we care. This is called cuddling.”

“Hmm.” As far as Geralt was concerned, it was far better than sex. But he knew it wouldn't last. This was all Jaskier wanted from him, clearly, which prevented Geralt from thoroughly enjoying it. 

“Where will you go?” he spoke into the silence a few long moments later. 

Jaskier paused drawing light patterns on Geralts forearm. “What do you mean?”

“Tomorrow.” Wasn't it obvious?

“Well I’ll go wherever you’re going. Just like we always have?"

“You...you’re not,” Geralt swallowed thickly. “You’re not leaving?” 

“Leaving?” Jaskier’s voice rose an octave. “Why on the continent would I be leaving?”

“You’ve got what you wanted from me, with this....cuddling business. You have no reason to stay.”

“Oh dear heart.” The next thing he knew he was being flipped around to face Jaskier. Jaskier, who had tears in his eyes that were just barely visible in the low light. Instinctively, he reached up to brush them away. “I’m cuddling with you because I care about you, because I love you. Not because I want something from you.”

“Oh.” Geralt didn’t know what to say. Jaskier loved him? No one had ever loved him before, much less cared about him or wanted him to be comfortable. 

Jaskier placed his hand on Geralt’s chest. “You never have to do anything you dont want to do with me. And if you don’t want to travel with me anymore, I’ll leave. You are your own person, Geralt, even if you are a Witcher. And you make your own decisions. You wouldn't take a contract that you felt unsafe doing, so in the same vein, you dont have to have sex with anyone if you dont want to. You make your own decisions. You dont even have to cuddle with me right now if you want to. You choose what you want to do based on what you’re comfortable doing, do you understand?”

Geralt nodded into the darkness. This was all so much. He hadn't been able to make his decisions in...well ever. And now Jaskier was giving him permission to. “I want you to stay,” he whispered. “I....care about you too.” He didnt say that he thought he could love him, he wasn't ready to say that yet. And according to Jaskier he didnt have to say it if he didnt want to. 

“Good. Now that we've got that sorted, come here,” Jaskier pulled Geralt into his chest, running his fingers through his hair delicately. Geralt closed his eyes, never had he felt more safe in his entire life. Who knew humans could be so gentle?

Just as he was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness he whispered, “Jaskier?”

“Hmm?”

Geralt felt a small smile tug at his lips at hearing how own language on Jaskier’s lips. “Can we do more of this...cuddling?”

Jaskier’s laugh sounded through his chest, vibrating pleasantly against Geralt’s ear. “Of course we can, dear heart. Of course.”

___

that turned out way longer than i thought it would and its now 37 minutes late but oh well.

throw me an ask if you wanna be on my tag list!

All through life, Geralt had never quite understood sex. Well, he understood how it works and its function but he never quite experienced that pull of need everybody seemed to talk about. There was the odd time he thought it might feel nice but whenever he paid for company to indulge, he always came away feeling hollow. Sure, there was a pleasant aspect to it but it wasn’t one that Geralt could claim to be earth shattering or mind blowing.

When Jaskier came along with his voracious appetite for, well, everything and everyone, Geralt never said a word. If that was how Jaskier experienced life, that was fine by him. And not once did Jaskier seem intent on shoving his views onto Geralt. Whereas other before him had tried to push him into encounters, set Geralt up with women and men in the hopes of him finally having a roll in a bed that made him see the appeal, Jaskier never did that.

“I see a pair of lovely sisters by the bar, wish to join me to see if they’re amenable to two rugged men’s attention?”

“No.” And that was that. Jaskier approached the women by himself, smiled and when one of them glanced towards Geralt with a questioning look, Jaskier smoothly directed them away.

It happened on a few occasions, Jaskier suggesting some outing or party for Geralt to join him on but each refusal was taken at face value. That was something Geralt deeply appreciated about Jaskier. He never pushed, never nagged and the one time he encountered Geralt leaving a brothel, he didn’t even comment.

Over time, Geralt grew to appreciate Jaskier’s company. The silence was always filled. Whether it was song, chatter, snuffles and sneezes, it was safe to say Jaskier couldn’t exist in silence. As annoying as it had been to stat with, it was one of the many things Geralt had grown to like about him. His humour and wit were sharp, scathingly so at times while awfully awkward and painful at others. Sometimes Geralt liked to tease him with the “best of” compliments and put downs Jaskier had managed to utter. It usually earned him a friendly punch to the shoulder.

Just existing alongside Jaskier was fun. Gradually, Geralt grew to not just tolerate or enjoy but actively seek out the bard’s company. He began to look forward to travelling between hunts when it was just the two of them and Roach. Those were the times he had Jaskier’s unbridled attention, no barriers between them, nothing distracting either of them.

That was another thing that Geralt couldn’t get to grips with. Of late, he had felt uncomfortable when Jaskier flirted in taverns, smiled and disappeared for a night. He couldn’t put into words why but it bothered him.

“I don’t like it when you flirt,” he blurted out one night.

“Would you prefer it if I flirted with you, my dear Witcher?” Jaskier threw a wink his way.

“No.” The word was out of Geralt’s mouth before he even had time to consider it.

“Then, my one true White Wolf, all I can say is: deal with it.”

Only, Geralt didn’t know how to. Now that Jaskier had opened his eyes to the possibility of flirting with him, such thoughts occupied Geralt’s waking thoughts. He wondered how he would feel if Jaskier did direct his attention to him. If the smiles, winks and sometimes horrible compliments were for Geralt. Such thoughts had him blushing.

He had hoped that the thoughts would leave him after a few days. But they didn’t. If anything, they got worse. Geralt’s eyes were drawn to Jaskier’s lips. He could imagine kissing the bard. That had never happened before and Geralt was having a bit of a crisis. He knew Jaskier, they were friends. And yet he found himself wanting more.

Going to a whore house didn’t help. Even if he thought about Jaskier while with someone else, it still left him feeling unsatisfied and used. Like something was missing that only Jaskier had.

“I want you to flirt with me,” Geralt announced in the corner of an inn they were staying at. All through food, Jaskier’s eyes had been flitting over the other customers, trying to decide who he could charm and bed.

The look Geralt got at his request was one he couldn’t read. “Would you now?” Jaskier’s lips tugged up into a smile. “And why’s that?”

No words were enough to explain and Geralt’s eyes flitted between Jaskier’s gaze and lips as he shrugged. All he knew was that Jaskier was someone special. Someone Geralt had slowly developed feelings for, ones he had never experienced in the past.

“Nobody’s had a connection with me before,” he tried to explain. Something changed in Jaskier’s gaze then, some kind of soft understanding. He reached up and traced Geralt’s bottom lip with a thumb.

“We’ll take this at your pace then. Find what works for us.”

“Lambert, you son of a bitch!“ Geralt said loudly with a happy smile on his face, making his bard look at him disbelief.”I heard you were nearby, just didn’t know how close you truly were!“

“White-haired fucker!“ man with same yellow eyes as Geralt, now identified as Lambert, greeted Geralt with an insult and a smile of his own. Musician gave up on trying to understand what was going on and turned back to dinner, ensuring it didn’t burn. He felt eyes on his back.”Where are your manners, old wolf?“ Younger witcher teased White Wolf,”won’t you introduce me to your friend?“

“Right, lets go to the fire“ Jaskier could hear footsteps coming closer, stopping beside him and a thump on either side of him. On his left was Geralt and on his right Lambert.”Jaskier, meet Lambert. He is a fellow wolf witcher“ Geralt  noticed the way Lambert’s sparkled.”Lambert, this is my....friend...Jaskier“ Lambert noticed how Geralt paused on ‘friend’ for a moment and wanted to pick on him for it, but changed his mind, deciding instead to insult Jaskier and see the reaction.

“Jaskier? As in the one who was dumb enough to try to befriend you?“ Geralt sighed deeply. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with Lambert.

“I believe insulting the man who could easily ruin your reputation to be dumb“, Jaskier said, smiling pleasantly,”but then again what would I know? I’m just a bard“ Lambert liked this human, he didn’t smell of fear and was ready to throw his insults back. He changed the tactic and starting to flirt. He smiled at the bard, and Jaskier knew he passed some kind of test.

“So is what Geralt says true? That you two are” Lambert glanced at fellow wolf, and smiled charmingly at musician,”just friends?”He said last two words in a disbelieving voice.”I hope Geralt wouldn’t mind sharing...” cue a wicked smile full of promise, his pupil rounding and dilating.

“I’m not a toy to be shared or owned“, Jaskier answered with a flirty smile of his own and adding a wink. Oh yes, Lambert definitely liked this one.

Lambert and Jaskier kept flirting and insulting each other over dinner, becoming more aroused and the scent was making Geralt’s nose twitch. Eventually he told them to go and fuck it out but not too far away, the scent was starting to make him uncomfortable. Jaskier was looking at him with concerned, Lambert was quick to reassure Jaskier that Geralt didn’t mind it at all and that “knowing him he’ll want to cuddle when we come back”. They left Geralt to take care of left-overs and sleeping bags.

Geralt hummed to himself, a habit he picked up from Jaskier, as he moved around camp. He didn’t care the two of them went to “have some actual fun” as Lambert’d put it, he was happy that they liked each other and were attracted to each other, it meant two he cares about coulv. White wolf preferred cuddling over any other form of affection, while Lambert and Jaskier were similar. They needed sex, Jaskier enjoyed it while Lambert loved having sex, especially with people he knew he could trust. The sleeping bags were, indeed, all placed close to each other.

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Several weeks later, Jaskier was traveling alone. He was on a road to a bigger settlement when he was attacked by bandits. They thought he’d be an easy target and have coin for them to take, if nothing else they’d happily take his lute. They didn’t expect a witcher to jump into bards defense. The witcher quickly chased them away. Jaskier noticed the man was older, seemingly in late forties or early fifties, and that his medallion was a wolf. Bard figured this must be a wolf witcher and from Geralt’s school.

“Hello, kind witcher!“ Jaskier started dramatically, forgetting to introduce himself, unsurprising considering his barely contained excitement.”I was wondering if you perhaps know Geralt and Lambert of Wolf school?“

The witcher was amused by young man in front of him “Of course I know those two little rascals for I’m the one who’s trained them in sword fighting!” the man was trying to be as dramatic as bard he just met.“I’m Vesemir, and you must be one of my pups flower? The bard named after a flower, I mean?”

The new nickname brought a bright smile on Jaskier’s face. He confirmed that “yes I am in fact Jaskier” asked older man if he’d mind some music? And a song in his honor was most certainly in order, he was after all his wolves teacher. The old wolf gave his new flowery pup an indulgent smile. Jaskier traveled with papa wolf who adopted him (Vesemir kept calling him pup or flower and eventually Jask asked about it....Vesemir admitted to viewing bard the same way he views his witcher pups). When they got to town where they were supposed to split up, flower made several songs in wolfs honour (Ves adored the songs his pup created for him) and bard received a dagger “for protection”. Jaskier knew enough about handling a dagger to be able to protect himself somewhat.

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In early autumn Jaskier met up with Geralt again. Geralt invited Jaskier to join him and others in Kaer Morhen. Jaskier was overjoyed, he’d get to see Lammy again! And he’d hopefully meet some other withcers. Geralt and Jaskier made their way to Kaer Morhen much earlier then Geralt usually did and arrived after Vesemir (who was delighted his pups were almost all home) and another witcher, this one was also a wolf and he had scars deforming left side of his face, pulling his upper lip and revealing his teeth. Jaskier didn’t stare, nor was he bothered by scars. He found the witcher, who was taller then Geralt and with boarder shoulders and chest, to be endearing with his shy attitude. Bard was sad when he noticed how he kept trying to hide his scars, Jaskier unable to contain, his excitement and love for this new witcher, pulled the scarred wolf into a hug. Eskel was confused why this pretty songbird wasn’t afraid and "oh this is nice". From day 1 Jaskier called him “Eskie” and always had a smile for big and seemingly scary man.

A week and a half later, Lambert finally arrived, with two new witchers. These two weren’t wolves, one was from Griffin School and the other was a Cat. Jaskier noticed how cat witcher looked over everyone with interest on his face, while griffin looked at Jaskier with open curiosity. When they were introduced, griffin’s, who was known as Coën, seemed excited to speak with him about Oxenfurth and music lessons and a shy “could you show me how to play lute?”. Honorary pup was so happy to see a witcher who wished to learn about his music and could discuss it. Coën reminded him of his lovely White Wolf, but nightingale (as Geralt called him) couldn’t figure out what. Cat, or Aiden as he was introduced, was a lot more like Lammy then Geralt or papa wolf. He was a lot more flirty then insulting (or, as Geralt and Eskel called it, flirting aggressively), and flower was happy to have all attention on him.

After a few days it took to newcomers to settle in, they started training. Aiden invited bard to join, saying he wished to see how he handled his dagger. He was unimpressed, disappointed really. He turned towards Geralt and asked dead serious "Really, Wolf, you travel with such precious human and you don't teach them how to fight???"  Coën joined training the bird how to fight, he adored the bard didn’t wish for him to get injured.

Every couple of days Jaskier and Lambert would disappear and come back smelling like each other. Sometimes Aiden would join them, and Geralt knew Eskel wanted to as well, but...well, he was too insecure and didn’t know Jaskier well (which made things hard for Eskel even more....he preferred to have an emotional connection with his lovers). So the rest of witchers ensured that Eskie and bird spend some time togther, without anyone. Geralt and Coën were fixing a part of the keep, trying to make it functional, Vesemir, like he most often did when he didn’t train with others, was in his lab, making a potion or something, while Lambert dragged Aiden somewhere, presumably to fuck.

Eskel was in the kitchen making bread and singing to himself, when Jaskier entered. “Oh thank Melitele! I thought everyone has gone off doing something dangerous!” the wolf was confused, they had enough meat for the next three days, after all Lambert had a successful hut yesterday, there was no monster bothering them, and Geralt and Coën were working on the keep...Maybe others were sparring? “You can sing” bard said softly, completely in awe of witcher’s deep rough singing voice. “Can we sing together? And can I help you somehow?”

“I thought everyone can sing? If you could pass me some flour that’d be great“ Eskel was even more confused, none of the others ever offered to help him bake, but he wasn’t one to look gift horse in mouth. “And sure, we can sing together tonight, after dinner....I know most popular songs” And from there they kept talking, mostly Jaskier and Eskel was more then happy to let him talk.