How they've gotten into this position, Cirilla is not quite sure. At the start of the evening, they had all stumbled out of the dining hall with bellies stuffed of roast beef, salty, oily potatoes, sweet carrots and parsnip, thickly cut fresh bread and big slices of the blueberry pies eskel had been baking that afternoon.
She had slumped down next to Geralt on the lumpy couch, her belly so full that even a crumb would make her explode, she's sure of it. It's luxurious, however, having gone weeks without a proper meal to having this. She'll pick up extra chores tomorrow to keep Vesemir sweet and show her appreciation.
He had been in a similar state of fullness, eyes closing in bliss as the warmth from the fireplace licks his skin. He was warm and sleepy, and had spent the day outside with his girl collecting all the winter vegetables that grew on the surrounding grounds.
But now they've wound up laying on one of the settees looking rather cozy. Geralt is on his side, hus back to the backrest, and is currently using the girl as a teddy bear of sorts. She's mirroring and facing him, oh so very comfortable laying in his arms.
She's warm from the fireplace and cozy in her protectors arms, she's full from dinner and soothed by the laughs of her new family.
And with that, she falls asleep, contented once more.
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It's finally here!!! Part one here. Masterlist here. Ao3 link here. Fic also below. Hope you guys enjoy!
The next morning Jaskier spent the whole morning packing clothes for them to wear while Geralt put some snacks together and made sure the house was tidy and ready for the week they would be gone.
"Did you shower? You should probably shower. Maybe use my soap. It has a little better scent. I laid an outfit for you on the bed. I'll go pack the car once I'm done eating breakfast." Jaskier rambled as he got his breakfast ready.
"Why don't you join me in the shower? Make sure I use that soap." Geralt grinned as he sat down next to Jaskier.
Jaskier blushed, "dear we don't have time for that.".
Geralt rolled his eyes and leaned over and kissed him passionately.
"I know it'd relieve some of your stress. Also mine as well.".
"It is a 5 hour drive dear and we need to be there well before dinner so that we can get settled in our room and you can meet my parents properly. We really don't have the time. I promise I'll make it up to you." Jaskier gave Geralt one final kiss before they finished eating.
After they finished eating they both stood up and Geralt wrapped Jaskier in his arms and kissed him. Jaskier broke free of the kiss and gave Geralt a playful shove towards the bedroom. As Geralt walked into the room he saw the outfit Jaskier laid out for him. It was a light blue tunic with a white undershirt. He left him with the option of tan pants or black pants. Geralt quickly undressed and showered, making sure to use any of Jaskiers soaps and shampoos to help make sure he didn't smell bad. After the shower Geralt opted for the black pants to make sure they matched his black leather jacket he planned to wear.
"I love the pop of color! You should wear this color more often!" Jaskier exclaimed hugging Geralt, " also you smell amazing. Thank you, love!".
"Anything for you." Geralt kissed Jaskier one more time before they did one final check of the house and made their way out to the car.
They drove in silence for over an hour. Geralt could tell something was still bothering Jaskier. Gently he reached over and grabbed Jaskiers hand which was lying gently on his knee.
"Talk to me dear what's going on." Geralt brought Jaskiers hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of it.
"I haven't been home in so long. I'm afraid of what they will say. What if this whole thing is just to see if the life I'm living is up to their standards. They think you're just a friend. I don't know what to do." Jaskier rambled.
"Hmmmmm." Geralt mumbled, focusing on the road ahead. He didn't know Jaskier hadn't told his parents about them. It had taken him a long time to build up the courage to ask Jaskier out; he really didn't want to hide again. But he knew Jaskier was worried about what his parents thought so he didn't want to push the situation. Jaskier kept rambling until they stopped for a quick bathroom break and lunch. Once back on the road Jaskier grabbed Geralt's hand from the steering wheel and looked at him with a concerned look on his face.
"You've hardly said anything. You promised to be more open with me. What is going on in your mind?".
"It's nothing Jaskier. I don't want you to worry.".
"I'm going to worry. Please tell me.".
"Hmmmm. Fine. I didn't realize you never told your parents about us. I kept my feelings for you hidden for so long I don't want to do it again. But I don't want your parents hating you so there isn't much I can do.".
"Geralt, you don't need to hide your feelings for me from them. I don't want you to! I'll deal with the consequences. I'd rather lose them than lose you.".
"Jaskier……".
"Don't you dare Jaskier me. I mean it. I love you.".
"How about we take it slow then. Just act like friends for tonight…..".
"Geralt…no I want to dance with you. What's the point of this dinner and ball if we can't dance?".
"You're my bard sing one of the songs you wrote for me. We will dance together later after the ball.".
Even though Geralt couldn't see Jaskiers face he knew he was pouting as he thought it all over.
"Fine. I think I can deal with that.".
Geralt leaned over and kissed Jaskier on the cheek real fast, "Perfect so tell me about your family. What should I expect?".
Jaskiers face lit up as he ranted about his younger years. He would occasionally show Geralt a picture on his phone of his family to go with the story he was telling. Finally they pulled up at the entrance of the Lettenhove mansion. Jaskier squeezed Geralt's hand as they parked. They grabbed their suitcases and made their way to the door.
"Welcome home master Julian. Your parents are so excited to see you and meet your witcher friend." The doorman greeted them formally. He opened the door and gestured them in. Geralt took a deep breath before stepping in to finally meet his boyfriend's family.
A snippet of a sequel to May I?, prompted by a comment @islenthatur left wanting to see and Eskel and Geralt being soft. So did I :)
——-
Geralt reached the gates of the keep at midday.
Vesemir had observed his campfire on the trail the evening before, so Eskel made his way outside in the morning to prepare Roach’s stall. He laid down a thick layer of fresh bedding to keep her warm, and brought food, water, and a heavy blanket. Then he tended to Scorpion and the other horses, the goats, and the fowl as he listened for Geralt’s approach.
Eskel enjoyed the company of animals, and the morning passed pleasantly as he fed them all, mucked out their shelters, and exercised the horses. But the most pleasant part of Eskel’s morning was the feeling of anticipation that bubbled up in his chest. I’m a sentimental old fool, Eskel thought, and chuckled to himself. Even after all these years, there is nothing quite like greeting my oldest friend after a year on the path.
Eskel was just beginning to repair some loose fencing at the edge of the goat pen when one of the goats bleated and, outside the keep, he heard a familiar whinny in reply. “Good girl, Lil Bleater,” said Eskel, and scratched her behind the ears fondly.
Geralt had dismounted by the time Eskel swung open the heavy doors of the keep, and stepped forward with his arms open wide. “Brother,” said Geralt, clasping Eskel in a firm embrace.
Eskel held on tightly, feeling peace settle in his chest. He never felt like he was truly home for the winter until Geralt arrived, and knew Geralt felt the same way. “Brother,” he returned. “Welcome home.”
Together, they settled Roach in companionable silence. It was a routine they had shared every winter for decades. Next, Eskel knew that Geralt would thaw by the kitchen fire with a bowl of whatever Vesemir had cooked the night before while he brought Geralt’s things to his room and prepared a bath. And that’s where Geralt would finally unwind, letting the hot water relax his muscles as well as his mind. Eskel would sit beside the tub in the comfortable chair Geralt kept by the fireplace in his room, and they would talk for hours before joining the others for dinner in the evening.
For now, though, Eskel tossed Geralt’s bags across his back and gave him a warm smile. Geralt returned the smile, and reached his arm across Eskel’s shoulders. Eskel wrapped his free hand around Geralt’s back, and together they made their way in from the stables.
After the mountains, after wounds are healed and lost brothers mourned, Geralt shows his love, and it’s easy as breathing.
He approaches Jaskier with a cup of mulled wine and takes him to the highest tower of Kaer Morhen. The stars blink amongst the green northern lights, and Jaskier is warm between the wine and the arms around his back.
Under the night sky, Geralt tells Jaskier of his love for the very first time.
Both of them return to Geralt’s hearth-lit chamber with red cheeks and glistening eyes, and they laugh and kiss and fall into bed together. Jaskier drifts off with a smile and dreams of a future with Geralt’s hand in his.
When morning comes, Geralt promises to do better. Guilt should be left in the past, Jaskier wants to argue, but the promise seems equally important to Geralt himself, so Jaskier listens carefully with his palm pressed against the slow-beating heart of his witcher. He’s always trusted Geralt with his life, and now his heart too. Despite all the broken parts of it, he trusts Geralt with his heart.
And Geralt keeps his promise.
He is not perfect—neither of them is, really—but he tries so hard with his imperfect, clumsy love. There are quiet nights when Geralt’s kisses span across Jaskier’s back, counting the specks of birthmarks with his lips. It’s a constellation, he says. They guide me home, like you.
There is also his infuriating protectiveness, his heartbreaking self-hatred. It drives Jaskier away, but never far and never for long. Soft apologies always follow, soothing away all that is angry and difficult between them. There are separations and reunions, messy tears and joyful laughter.
Geralt’s love is easy. So, Jaskier wonders.
Nothing is easy by nature. A witcher’s skills are honed through decades of training, through every swing of his blade, every parry, every kill. It’s why the ease of Geralt’s movement is a terrifying sight for his foes. If handling Jaskier’s heart looks easy, he must have gotten the practice somewhere.
The answer comes one day when Jaskier is alone. His hand slips on the strap of Geralt’s pack and all the notebooks within spill out on the floor.
There is a red book, sprawled open with its pages full of Geralt’s lean, neat writing. Jaskier’s eyes are caught by his own name between those lines.
It’s a notebook he’s watched Geralt use countless times while lazily resting his head on Geralt’s thigh and trying to draw his attention.
“What are you writing?” Jaskier asked once. “Another one of your boring bestiaries?”
“Boring bestiaries save lives.” Geralt looked down, putting down the quill. “And no, it’s not a bestiary.”
“What is it then?”
Jaskier remembered all Geralt’s notebooks: the green ones titled Herbs, the brown ones with Monsters and Locations written across the first page. He didn’t recognize the red one. A secret book, then. It only made him more curious.
“Nothing,” Geralt answers, putting the book down to join Jaskier in the nest of tangled sheets. “Just…thoughts.”
“Thoughts about me?” Jaskier asked cheekily. “Love thoughts?”
“Hmm.”
At the time, Jaskier teased but did not pry. Geralt rarely gets to keep things for himself, and Jaskier delighted in the fact that Geralt could find comfort in keeping a journal.
Now, as the notebook lays open on the ground, Jaskier finds his name all over it. He picks it up and flips to the first page, and finds the title. It’s just one word, one name.
Jaskier.
A book written in his name. A book he never gets to read.
When he flips another page, the entries begin with lists of food. Fruits, pastries and wines, followed by stores to buy the best of them in Ard Carraigh. The combination rings a bell, reminding him of a surprise picnic a while ago. He marveled at how Geralt could gather such a feast without him knowing, and only got an absent hum as reply.
The next page records another date of theirs, detailing Geralt’s careful preparations even though the words are scribbled and crossed out at times.
There are other things. Thoughts.
Thoughts of love, of regret and hope, pride and fear. These are thoughts of Jaskier and their future.
He read slowly as if holding Geralt’s heart between his hands, skipping some passages when the emotions grow too tender, making him ache at the self-doubt that bleeds through these pages.
He has no reason to stay. Jaskier reads on, his heart breaking. And yet he does. I don’t know how to deserve him. I don’t know if I ever will.
The notebook isn’t completed yet, and the last entry consists of the names of many towns and cities. It’s the planning of their next journey, Jaskier realizes, following the route they will travel and diverting for all the local festivals. A coastal village in Cidaris is underscored twice. Jaskier vaguely remembers mentioning its name years ago on a hot sunny afternoon. He went on about how nice the water was there, and how he dreamed of going back. It’s the same place he thought about when asking Geralt to run away with him during that dragon hunt.
Geralt wants to take him there now, after all these years.
Jaskier closes the book with a shuddering breath and puts it back into the pack. Guilt churns in his stomach for having gotten a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have.
When Geralt returns, Jaskier has tidied up the mess. He puts on a smile and hugs his witcher close. Tears prickle his eyes still, and the attempt to hide them fails spectacularly.
“Hey,” Geralt says, confused. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Jaskier’s voice breaks, and leans into the strong hands running up and down his back. “I just…love you.”
Geralt lets out a quiet oh and brings Jaskier flush against him. Even without looking, Jaskier can picture perfectly the slightly panicked frown on Geralt’s face.
That earns him an amused huff. Geralt continues, “you know, I just had this idea. How about we go to the coast? I heard Cidaris is nice in the summer. It’s on our way north, and it could…cheer you up?”
Geralt is so tentative, the nervousness thrumming under a thin layer of nonchalance, and Jaskier nods.
“It’s a nice thought.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Jaskier pulls away to meet Geralt’s gaze, and this time, his smile is genuine. “I’ve wanted to see the coast for a long time.”
The subtle pride at the corners of Geralt’s lips is more beautiful than the sunrise at sea.
Jaskier doesn’t mention the notebook of unsaid things. It’s a book that holds all the soft parts of Geralt’s clumsy heart, and of course it’s something Jaskier will protect.
He’ll protect the quiet love Geralt bestows on him by tucking the book away in the corner of his heart. He’ll let Geralt try, and try, and try.
It me again. This time I'm here to request something from the 50 types of kisses list.
Kissing tears from the other’s face.
I'm a hoe for geraskier, but if you feel like doing some other ship I'd be more than happy to read that too! Thanks in advance!
- 🌻
My dearest sunflower <3
When I read your request, I immediately had a song stuck in my head, which is called Blurry Eyes and so I took that as inspiration a little bit as well, because I think it fits so well (and it's beautiful!), sooooo... (and you can always request Geraskier, if you want to <3)
(I’m always happy to receive requests, so if you want to, send some in. If you need inspiration, here are some prompt lists )
Pairing: Geraskier | Geralt x Jaskier
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, depressed Jaskier, post Season 2
Word count: 2684
_________________________
It was the first time, Jaskier was staying at Kaer Morhen. After everything that had happened with Voleth Meir, with Ciri, they were staying together. Even Yennefer was staying here, which gave him a sense of security - weird, huh? Considering how their relationship had started out, but ever since meeting her again, getting his life saved by her, they'd developed a deep friendship that even he failed to describe. Not that he wanted to find the right words, which was new for him. He simply accepted it as it was, and by now he knew, that he could talk to Yennefer about everything, but there was one thing that he kept to himself, something that had been bothering him pretty much ever since they'd arrived here. He felt like he didn't belong here. Like he was just in the way, because what did he contribute? Lambert had even pretty much told him, that he wasn't part of the family, hadn't he? Those words had stuck with Jaskier. It was something he was dealing with on his own, and yes, he'd thought about leaving them, but right now he couldn't. He snow wouldn't melt for a long time, and if he didn't want to freeze to death on his way... who knew where, he had to stay.
He did his best to smile throughout the day, to not let anyone know what was going on, but it was getting increasingly hard, especially in front of Geralt, who apparently saw right through him – at least sometimes. Probably not surprising considering they'd travelled for years and years, and had gotten to know the other one quite well. Which was another problem, because Jaskier didn't only know and respect Geralt, he'd grown to love the Witcher. Even though that man had pretty much abandoned him on top of a mountain. Why else would he have come right with him once he'd appeared in his prison cell? Sure, Geralt had gotten him out of there, but a sane person would have walked the other way afterwards before getting their heart trampled on once again. But Jaskier wasn't sane, he was absolutely in love with this man, and there was nothing he could do about it. Oh, he'd tried to get Geralt out of his head and heart through writing, with other people he'd let into his life, but it hadn't worked. He'd followed the Witcher again, and now he was here, in this big keep, where he wasn't of much help.
“Jaskier, what's going on?” It's Geralt's voice that grabs his attention again, and jaskier thinks for a moment, before he blinks, shakes his head.
I can see your thousand doubts written on your face right now.
“Nothing,” he says, trying to conjure up a smile, before he gets up. “Just thought that it's really sunny outside for a change, so I might go for a walk.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I'm okay.”
You tell me you're okay, but your voice don't match the words you say.
His smile widens a little, but he pushed away from the table to get his coat. It really was nice outside, he had to admit to himself, as the sun kissed his cheeks and nose, but it was still rather cold. The sun at least managed to make him smile – a genuine smile for a moment. Jaskier walked for some time, not leaving the premises, but just staying in motion, because otherwise the cold would settle in his bones, and then it would take him a long time to get warm again. Still, after some time, his feet stilled and he stood there watching out towards the horizon. All his worries came back, everything that he'd been able to push away for the time he'd been in the sun. But now, he was questioning himself again. Jaskier hugged himself tight, didn't even realize that he'd started crying until he tasted salt on his lips.
“Ridiculous,” he said to himself, wiping the tears away.
“Jaskier?” he heard a soft voice behind him, but it took him a moment to turn around. Ciri was standing there looking up at him through these big eyes that always managed to tear at his heartstrings.
“Ciri, what are you doing out here? It's cold and it's getting dark, you should be inside!” Especially dressed like this, because she wasn't wearing a coat. “You'll catch a cold!” Had nobody watched her or at least given her a coat so that she wouldn't freeze to death? Jaskier took off his own one and wrapped it around her shoulders, which managed to make her smile.
“I'm not cold,” she stated, but still snuggled into the coat Jaskier had given her.
“Liar. I can see how you're shivering, but we'll keep that our secret.” Jaskier winked at her, earning him another smile.
“I was looking for you,” she admitted, shuffling her feet in the snow, which made Jaskier put his hand between her shoulderblades and lead her back towards the keep, because now he was starting to freeze, and they didn't have to be out here when they could go back inside. “I was hoping...” she hesitated, licked her lips, didn't look at him. “Maybe, you could tell me a story after dinner? The others are no good at it, and your stories are the best.”
Jaskier knew why she'd asked. She had trouble falling asleep, just like him. When he closed his eyes, all kinds of pictures danced in front of them. After being tortured by Rience, he'd been having nightmares, coupled with what they'd all endured here... He could only imagine what Ciri was going through, after everything she'd seen, she'd lived through. But at least, she'd confided in him that she had trouble closing her eyes, and his stories helped her think of something else once she closed her eyes.
“Of course.” He smiled at her, his expression softening. They hadn't had much time to get to know each other, or even bond, especially with the training she was going through, but in the quiet, in the night, in the dark, they'd developed a kind of routine. She simply had to ask and Jaskier would be there for her to help her fall asleep.
All throughout dinner, he could feel Geralt's eyes on him, but he didn't react, didn't want to let him see what was going on inside his mind. He didn't want to talk about it, think about it right now, and he especially didn't want to talk to Geralt. It was good that he was lulled into a conversation by Lambert, but when that conversation ended, Jaskier hadn't finished his meal, so Geralt could turn his attention to him again.
“How was your walk?” Geralt asked, trying to figure out what was going on in the bard's head, but he didn't have any luck so far, especially since Jaskier was avoiding eye-contact.
“Good.” One word, nothing more. What else was there to say? Oh you know, I just started crying, because I feel like I don't belong here, that I serve no purpose, but apart from that it was lovely out there?No, he would most certainly not tell him that.
So distant when you're next to me, hiding all I wanna see. The silence in the air we breathe echoing so hopelessly.
“That it?” Geralt pushed a little further, trying to reach out for Jaskier's hand, but that was the moment when the bard pushed away from the table and got up, reaching for his empty plate to take it to the kitchen.
“Yup.” Jaskier finally turned to face his Witcher, he even managed a tiny smile. “It was warm in the sun, I had a nice view, then Ciri found me and brought me back for dinner. Anything else?”
Before Geralt could pester him with any more questions, though, Ciri called for him and asked if they could go. Good. Jaskier excused himself from Geralt and turned to Ciri, his face immediately lighting up. They brought their dished to the kitchen, then they left for Ciri's room, where it was nice and warm, because Geralt had probably lit the fire earlier on. He was really good with Ciri, but there were some things, that Jaskier understood better than anyone due to their different upbringing.
“Okay, you all good there?” Jaskier sat down next to her bed and waited for her to nod her head. When she did, he couldn't help but smile. These were the moments, when he really felt content out here. What he'd usually experienced when he was standing on stage, singing his songs, was something he now experienced when he could help Ciri fall asleep. Once she'd closed her eyes, he started his story. He knew so many, so, so many that his parents had told him when he'd just been a little boy, when he had not yet known what expected him out there in the world, the good as well as the bad. But the stories... they'd stuck with him throughout his life, he'd always remembered them, and now he could do something good with them.
It didn't take long for Ciri to fall asleep, which made Jaskier smile. It didn't assure that she wouldn't wake up from a nightmare, but at least, she'd fallen asleep easily, which was what she had the most trouble with. He made sure that she was tucked in well and hadn't lied to him earlier on, and then he quietly left the room.
“Is she asleep?”
Jaskier jumped and hit the wall behind him, making him curse under his breath. Geralt was standing right outside her door, smiling to himself, because he'd listened in on the story he'd told her. Jaskier was good with Ciri, really good, and just what she needed. Geralt could teach her how to fight, he could hold her when she woke up in the middle of the night, but Jaskier had built a connection to her that Geralt hadn't been able to yet. Maybe, because he'd been brought up rather differently, and the stories Vesemir had told them when they'd still been kids, were not the stories he wanted to tell Ciri. The stories Jaskier knew... were not the ones Geralt knew, not the ones he could tell.
“Did you have to scare me like that?” The bard took a deep breath, before he turned around, ready to walk away. But Geralt caught his wrist, making him stop dead in his tracks. Even that contact made him shiver slightly. One part of him wanted to rip his hand free and just get going, but the other wanted to revel in the feeling, wanted more.
“That wasn't my intention and I'm sorry.” Geralt's voice was quiet, soft even, making Jaskier close his eyes. He should get out of this situation, he should get away, because he could already feel the tears prick at the backs of his eyes again, and he didn't want to cry. Not in front of Geralt. It was one thing when he did that alone in his room, but another, when Geralt could see him, because he would ask questions. “But you keep pulling away from me, you've been doing this all day, and I know that something's not right.” Of course he knew, he always did, but when it came to Jaskier's feelings for him, he was apparently oblivious. “Talk to me, Jask... I'm right here.”
Damn that Witcher, because now, Jaskier couldn't stop the tears from falling anymore. He'd always known that Geralt was there, that he would listen, if he asked him to. Yennefer would have listened as well, but he hadn't wanted to talk about it. When he said it out loud, it sounded ridiculous, but even if it was ridiculous, it made him feel lonely, it really pained him. His eyes were still cast down, because he didn't want Geralt to see him cry. Tough luck, because the Witcher put his hand beneath Jaskier's chin, tilting it up, so that he had to look at him. It was breaking his heart to see the bard like this, not knowing what was causing the tears.
“I just...” Jaskier started, chewed on his bottom lip to find the right words. “I don't feel like I belong here. I can't help with anything. I'm not part of this family.” There, the words were out, but the tears didn't stop. Gods, he felt so pathetic, but once he'd started crying, he couldn't seem to stop. It had been easier out there with Ciri, but right here with Geralt, it was rather difficult for him. He felt so vulnerable right now and couldn't do anything.
“Jaskier...” Geralt sighed, and when the bard started to chew on his bottom lip again, he pulled it free from his teeth with his thumb. “Stop that, or you're going to make it bleed.” Jaskier stilled, didn't even seem to breathe for a moment, when Geralt touched his lip. “You're too blind to see it. you're usually so observant, but you don't see just what you do here?”
“What do you mean?” Jaskier's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.
“You are a part of this family, Jaskier. A very vital part.” Geralt shook his head, before he smiled down at Jaskier again. Sometimes, he really was completely oblivious. “We might be able to teach Ciri how to defend herself, but you... You are her anchor here. You are the one she turns to, because she can't sleep. You are the one she trusts with these issues. Not Yennefer, not me... It's you.”
“Oh... that's nothing.”
“Don't play it down. You're the only one who can help her fall asleep, and I love you for that.” Geralt's last words were more quiet than the previous ones. He raised his other hand to cradle Jaskier's face in his hands.
Did he just say that he loved Jaskier? Yeah for being there for Ciri, don't get excited.
“I could do more...” Jaskier swallowed hard, looking into Geralt's eyes.
“You're doing more than enough. You ARE enough, Jaskier, stop questioning that.” Carefully, Geralt leaned down, still cradling Jaskier's face in his big hands, and started to kiss the tears away. It was such an intimate moment, so sweet, and breathtaking at the same time, that Jaskier thought that he was imagining this. His own hands found their place on Geralt's chest, because he needed that contact, needed it to realize that this was indeed happening. It felt good to be in his hands, to be taken care of like this. He'd longed for it so long, and now, he was getting a glimpse at what could be. But could it really? Jaskier didn't want to get his hopes up, because he wasn't strong enough to cling onto this hope only to be let down again.
But he wasn't let down, no. When Geralt had kissed all the tears away, his lips found Jaskier's, capturing them in a sweet, salty kiss, because Jaskier could taste his own tears, but it didn't matter. What mattered was the mere fact that Geralt was kissing him, that this was really happening, and that it wasn't just one of his dreams.
Jaskier's hands moved on their own accord, up to Geralt's jaw, tracing along the stubble he had going on there, before he tangled his fingers in the Witcher's hair. When Geralt pulled back from his lips, Jaskier let out a sigh, because he wanted more. More of this, more of Geralt, more of that warm, tingly feeling spreading throughout his whole body.
“Do you understand now, just how much you belong here?” Geralt asked against he bard's lips, smiling.
“Mhm,” Jaskier hummed, opening one eye to peak at Geralt. “But maybe you could remind me just once more...”
A chuckle rumbled through Geralt's chest, but he was all too happy to show him again.
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Using the encouragement he got from the seven beers he had downed during the set, Jaskier thought it was a splendid idea to stumble his way towards the handsome bass player and slip him his number. Scampering off as fast as his legs could take him in his inebriated daze.
Summary: At a tavern Geralt hears one too many jabs at his bard. He decides then and there, they’re going on a holiday.
Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs get blocked.
Masterlist Asks
“Piss off bard.”
“I never missed the silence more.”
“Fuck off back to where you came from!”
That was the last straw. Geralt rose from the bench shrowded in darkness and leisurely strolled over to where Jaskier had stopped playing and was now arguing with the three men.
He wrapped his hand around the back of the bard’s doublet and gently tugged him backwards, carressing the side of his neck with his thumb.
“There’s hot stew and ale at the table for you. Go and fill up.” Geralt told rather than suggested to Jaskier.
“But I still need to-”
“Eat, Jask. I’ll be over in a minute.”
The bard relented, with great amounts of groaning and begrudging, but went to fill his boots anyway. He didn’t hear exactly what Geralt had said to the men who had insulted him. All Jaskier knew as he was shovelling stew into his mouth was it musn’t have been a light threat, or an empty one where a Witchers concerned.
Although Geralt did walk back over smugly with an odd swing in his step. When Jaskier rose his eyebrows in a questioning frown all the Witcher responded with was, “We’re leaving in the morning.”
“What?” Jaskier wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.
“We’re leaving in the morning so eat all the stew, and drink all the ale. Don’t know when we’ll next have the chance.”
“But why? There’s still contracts here, still audiences to woo, money to be made-”
“Jaskier.”
The bard fell silent and ate his stew and drank the ale as request. It was only later when they had retired to their room for the night that Geralt decided to address the quietness in his bard. He knew he’d been brash downstairs and Jaskier didn’t deserve that, but he couldn’t divulge his plan unless they were away from prying ears.
Jaskier was stood by the side of the bed in just his trousers when he felt Geralt move in behind him, his body heat instantly staving off the chill of the room.
“Won’t you talk to me bard?”
Jaskier lightly snorted and grabbed his night shirt from its position on the bed. “I was under the impression you weren’t fond of my talking.”
“I’m always fond of your talking.”
“Of course you are.” He replied sarcastically.
Geralt grasped his hips and turned Jaskier to face him instead of being turned away. The Witcher was shirtless as well, which now explained why Jaskier was able to feel his body heat so effectively.
“I am,” The Witcher insisted, dipping his head to meet Jaskier’s eyes, “You’re my favourite kind of noise.”
The bard smiled smugly and went back to putting his nightshirt on when Geralt snatched it away. “You won’t need that.”
Jaskier sighed good naturedly and put his hands on his hips. “So why are we leaving in the morning?”
“Because-” Geralt started unbuttoning and stripping Jaskier of the rest of his clothes, along with himself - “We, are going on holiday.”
“A holiday?” Jaskier repeats incredulously while being pushed into bed by Geralt and then wrapped up in his arms.
“We are going to the coast. Get away for a while, do what pleases us before heading up to Kaer Morhen for the Winter. One last feel of the Sun.”
“My dear Witcher, I shall make a romantic out of you yet.” Jaskier yawned, lulled to sleep by Geralt’s warmth and the steadiness of his heart.
You already have, Geralt thought. You already have.
