12!
thank you SO MUCH. this is technically??? part of my modern au??? if you want extra context??? but it can also be stand-alone for sure!
Geralt had been asleep when Jaskier returned home. He was late, later than usual, and Geralt had missed the way he stumbled up the stairs in elation, rather than drink. Jaskier tried hard to be quiet, but he was constantly moving, constantly making noise, and he disrupted the silence so thoroughly that Geralt was already drifting awake when Jaskier made it into their bedroom.Ā
Maybe he would have gone back to sleep, if Jaskierās knee hadnāt thunked into the bed frame. Maybe if Jaskier hadnāt frozen, even holding his breath, to see if the motion had woken Geralt, he would have let Jaskier know he was awake. But after a moment of stillness, Jaskier seemed satisfied that he hadnāt bothered Geralt, and continued dressing for bed, then slipping into the covers.
Geralt thought that would be the end of it, and tried to let himself drift back to sleep, only to feel Jaskierās fingers carding through his hair. His touch was light. Usually, when Jaskier touched Geraltās hair, it was firmer than this. It was for Geraltās benefit, to brush his hair, weave it into steadily more intricate braids, or to massage Geraltās scalp. This touch was feather-light, more against Geraltās face than his hair. This touch was for Jaskier.
It took everything in Geralt not to take the hand. He longed to press kisses against Jaskierās palm, to pull him closer and kiss him breathless. To touch him without intent until Jaskier was making delighted noises against Geraltās skin. It felt wrong, though, to interrupt Jaskierās moment, so Geralt let him have this soft, quiet moment, and was rewarded a few moments later when Jaskier, apparently feeling emboldened, began to speak.
āI missed you tonight,ā he whispered, and Geralt could almost picture his wistful look. Geralt had caught it a few times, when Jaskier didnāt know he was being watched. It was silly, it made Geralt ache, but he didnāt know how to tell Jaskier that he didnāt need to look so wanting anymore. He had Geralt. He would always have Geralt.
āI always miss you, though. When youāre not here,ā Jaskier continued, amusement in his voice.Ā āIsnāt that silly? How greedy can I be? I have you, all my days, every day, and still I want more.ā
His fingers trailed down to Geraltās jaw, just barely brushing along his stubble.Ā
āI still canāt believe this is real. That youāre in my bed. That I can touch you like this, even when youāre awake. Iāve written you so many songs, tried so many ways to capture the way you make me feel. And still, my words come up short.ā
His hand pulled away, but Jaskier drew closer. They didnāt touch, but they were close enough that Geralt could feel the warmth from Jaskierās body. He could feel Jaskierās fingers just barely brushing his chest. Jaskierās breath was warm on his face.
āI donāt say it much, but I know you hear it every time I almost do. I love you. And I think you love me, too. Even if you donāt say it. Because I can wait. It doesnāt feel like waiting; not with you.ā send me a number & iāll write you a geraskier drabble?
