#brotherference

Okay I know you suggested pirate nonsense but I had the BEST fuckin’ idea for this...

tw: horny, the Kaer Morons intervening, brotherly shenanigans

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Geralt growled and parried again, pushing Eskel back against the wall. Lambert swung from the side and he twirled out of the way, white hair flying out around his head rather prettily in the process. Jaskier sighed from the kitchen doorway, flour-covered apron still tied around his waist. 

All three Witchers heard the yearning sound but only two of them registered it for more than a second. Eskel nodded subtly in Jaskier’s direction and Lambert winked his agreement. They both pushed in hard, forcing Geralt’s footwork to increase in speed and his focus to be torn. Lambert ripped one of his shirtsleeves, revealing an expanse of bicep to the chill, wintry air. 

Eskel’s next swipe opened a window in the material right over Geralt’s right shoulder-blade. The two other Wolves moved in tandem, ripping and tearing at their brother’s shirt until most of his torso had been exposed. Jaskier stood frozen, blushing and practically steaming in the sharp relief of the dark kitchen door. 

Then, it happened. Lambert and Eskel nearly died laughing but Geralt was concerned, dashing across the training yard until he reached the bard, who had swooned into a snowbank. “Jaskier!?”

“He fuc-” Lambert managed to gasp, his hand clenched against Eskel’s shoulder as he doubled over, “He fucking fainted!”

“Holy shit!” Eskel guffawed. “I didn’t think that would happen!”

“You two fucks,” Geralt glared. “Are in charge of dinner.”

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Jaskier woke up suddenly. He was being carried in a pair of strong arms, two familiar golden eyes stared down at him. “Jaskier, glad you’re awake.”

“That was cheating,” the bard muttered. “Your brothers are mean.”

“I warned you,” the Witcher chuckled. Jaskier leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to Geralt’s cheek. “Hmm?”

“Let’s spend the rest of the day in bed together,” Jaskier suggested. “And let’s not just be friends anymore.”