#top jaskier

“I can stand, good first impressions.” Julian said as he leaned heavily on his cane. He waited for the door to open for the new nursemaid. He shooed the maid away once she dropped off some food, she laughed at him and made her way through the side doors. He was leaning on his cane trying to get other the pain that was dragging at the base of his back. 

The door did open and he was shaking, straining, heart starting to speed up. 

“Hello, welcome, hurry up and shake my hand before I pass out. Thank you” he said quickly and grabbed the man’s huge hand in his own and then sat back down in his wheelchair. He started getting some big breaths in trying to get his heart to slow back down. 

He then took in the man’s looks. He was large, strong looking, had silver nearly white hair, golden eyes, and his clothes were dirty. He was extremely handsome where his hair hung over his forehead and was held back by a small black tie. 

“It’s an honor to serve you count.” He said and bowed which Julian shushed and waved his hand at. 

“Oh pish posh, now come sit down with me. I had Lizzy bring up some really good stuff. She's a witch in the kitchen, literally but also she cooks so well I’ve cried. I personally have a sweet tooth but also I love eggs scrambled or omelets, those are French. Do you eat eggs?” Julians asked and wheeled himself over to his breakfast table, only one other chair at the table. 

Geralt was confused but followed him awkwardly standing by the table before Julian leaned over and patted the seat and removed the cloches from their plates. There were two plates of scrambled eggs, some pan fried meat, small loaves of bread, and a cup of something melted and spiced looking. 

“Do you not eat eggs? We have a large coop and a lot of livestock on the estate, feel free to explore as you please. I personally would love to get back there to see the sheep, I’ve always loved them.” Julian said as he picked up a fluffy spiced egg and popped it into his mouth smiling at Geralt. He hoped the man would stay, he felt some kind of… change in himself at just the sight of the man. Something ws changing in his heart. 

Geralt, who sat down, remained confused. There’s a plate set in front of him but… why? What? He’d heard of the “Flower” of the rich estate family but… the weak shaky young man wasn’t what he’d imagined. He’d been around for a very long time and he’d yet to meet someone like Julian. 

Julian stared at him waiting but then shook his head and looked down. Soft smile on his lips and kindness running pure in his eyes. 

“Dig in my friend, I’m a lonely man, I treat my servants well. I don’t expect you to stay for the rest of my life, I don’t expect you to feel loyalty to me. I only request you be kind. So in return for your kindness, you have free rein of the estate. Choose a room for yourself, no matter where, make food to your taste, slaughter what you please, grow what you please, just include me please.” Julian said in a sad voice that hurt Geralt's heart. He was just a boy, a kid wanting someone to play with him. 

He’d never met a count as… souled as Julian. He thought he’d be a chamber maid to some priss, to clean and be quiet. He’d never met someone so… honest and full of humanity's best quality, compassion and companionship, friendship and love. 

Geralt should have known Julian would be good. The other servants seemed happy, like a community. All chatting as they worked, some laughing and others humming tunes as they did their business leisurely. 

He was confused, though. Why? 

“Count-” He started just for Julian to groan and shake his head. 

“Julian, please.” The boy said and took another bite of food. He hated being called ‘ count’ ; it made him feel old. 

“Julian, why? Why share your wealth?” Geralt asked and watched the boy drink from a cup it looked like... milk? What wealthy person didn't drink wine with their meals?

"My father brought home a sickness, when I was younger. He gave it to my entire family, my mother, my sisters, me. They all slowly died around me. And I survived. Why? My father was one of the wealthiest counts in this entire land. My sisters were more beautiful than precious gems, my mother had acres and acres of land. I was the youngest, and most uninterested in growing our wealth and taking on more land. Why did I survive if not to share? One day I will die, I can't produce an heir, who will take care of me? Who will make sure I am happy in my final days? Who will take over this home? I'm a creature of society, Geralt, dear, I surround myself with good company. I surround myself with friends . I think you're supposed to be nice and share with your friends." Julian said and leaned forward against the table, smiling, and Geralt was shaking his head. Astonished. He was just a kid, poetic words made from a luxury life. 

"Are you quick to befriend someone like me? You have no idea where I've been, where I'm from, what I've done. Why do you welcome me like a long lost friend?" Geralt asked and Julian was huffed and laughed as his eyes glittered. He looked right at Geralt’s face, cheeks chubby and joy coursing through him. Geralt felt a bit younger himself, his boulders lifting slightly from his shoulders just meeting the kid. 

"You are my long lost friend. I can feel it here in my heart. We are meant to be together, our destinies entwined. Like soup!” Julian said and broke out in a big smile, hands coming to grab Geralt’s across the table. Geralt didn’t pull his hands back but he was nervous until Julian squeezed their hands together. Julian looked right in his eyes, solidifying how serious he was. 

“Now!" The boy said and dropped his silverware and clapped his hands together. Geralt watched him curiously. Julian rubbed his hands together excitedly. 

"Have you ever had a honey cake baked with pork fat instead of butter?" Julian asked and lifted the glass cloche off the small cake that had been sitting to the side. His bottom lip was caught in his smile, a hunger filling his eyes that Geralt only ever seen in brothels. 

"Pork fat instead of butter?" Geralt asked and Julian was quick to cut him a large piece and put it on a separate plate, handing it to him before getting a big piece for himself. 

"Yes! It'll make you cream your trousers, I've never had anything better. Now, you're being rude by not eating so dig in before I start crying." Julian said and shoved a big bite into his mouth. Geralt thought he was funny, the way the boy’s cheeks puffed out and crumbs stuck to his soft looking lips. 

Geralt lifted it up and sniffed it before taking a bite. He moaned and chewed, looking at the boy’s smug look.  It was… incredible. Sweet and indulgent and fattening oily and rich. Something Geralt hadn’t tasted since his days of stealing from royals as a young man. 

"I told you!" the boy said and they ate in silence. Until Julian leaned back in his chair, rubbing his belly, he wasn’t very round just kinda… plush. Like a feather pillow or fresh baked buns. 

He watched Geralt eat like a man starved, looking a bit starved. He hated seeing hungry people. That’s why when he went into town he made sure to fill his pockets with sweets for the kids. He liked Geralt, the way he shoved food into his mouth and flashed his eyes around like a feral dog. He had nice hair and big hands and looked strong under his tattered clothes. 

"It's a nice day out today. My last nurse, she would put me out on the balcony usually. She wasn't a considerably strong woman, usually she'd call the yard boy, Edwin, to carry me down the stairs if I needed to be on the floor of the estate. I do miss being able to be around the animals. I rather like them." Julian said and laughed and shook his head. He hadn't been able to see the animals in years since his last nurse couldn't really wheel him out in the dirt. When he was a child he liked to go run around in the sheep pens, petting them and feeding them and feeling their soft noses. He did miss it terribly… 

Geralt swallowed the large bit of egg and bread that was in his mouth and wiped his face with his sleeve. He didn’t much care about manners. He had them, just didn’t use them. 

"I could take you, easily. Even if I had to pick your chair up, it wouldn't be very hard." He said and was almost blinded by how bright Julian’s smile was. 

"Oh that would be wonderful. Not today though, today I think you need a tour and to get a good wash up and perhaps we can find you some clothes that fit you better. Perhaps we wear the same!" Julian said giddily. He loved sharing, clothes, food, anything. But it would be so fun to dress Geralt up, maybe do his hair, polish his nails, all the things that Julian loved to do. All the pampering things. 

Geralt nodded, blush burning under his skin. He couldn't imagine how... dirty he must seem. He’d not been able to buy new clothes since his own had been stolen. He didn’t think to try and scrub the stains from his clothes before coming, assuming he’d just be put to work without meeting the head of the house. 

"I apologize for my appearance I-" Geralt started to apologize, nerves ebbing into his voice. He knew most wealthy people hated the look of dirty clothes in such a pristine home. Julian just waved him off, thin hand pale, nails shiny. 

"Nonsense, If I could I'd be rolling in the mud half my days. I love the outdoors, the fresh air, I’d adore just one more walk through the orchard... but we all live life as we can. We have a large bath downstairs or you are welcome to pick a room and we can manage a bath in there for you. Though downstairs I hear is the best for baths." Julian said and smiled, he would love to go downstairs and see everyone. 

Most of the people who worked never really made it up to Julian room. Usually leaving the young count to himself and his nurse and even then she was usually preparing his medicine and his bed and such. Sometimes they’d come by to show him something or ask if they could do something with the house. Bringing him fresh fruit from the orchard or asking to repaint the lattice. He’d like it more if he could actually go see them all and talk with them, be a part of their day to day, but… well he was okay with how things were. 

Geralt nodded and stood up, dusting the crumbs off himself. 

"Do you want to give me a tour?" Geralt asked, and Julian was glad to be pushed about, cane held between his knees. He wasn't strong enough to walk but he stood for a moment a few times. He liked being able to see the house, he told stories from when his sister painted on the walls and how he once climbed onto the roof to scare his mother but instead fell and landed on her. 

Geralt smiled and listened intently, helping Julian to sit back down when he started to tremble. He enjoyed the flowery and detailed way Julian described everything, as if he was writing a poem as he spoke. Each detail being told like it held the whole story together, words mixing like perfume in the air. Geralt liked it. 

----

Geralt liked living beside the Count. He easily found a place in the home, the room next to Julian’s own. He found a schedule and stepped easily to it. He found out that most clothes Julian wore he could fit into also, though a bit snug on the shoulders. 

It was easy day to day. 

He would wake up with the sun, wash his face, comb his hair, go down to the kitchen and find something to eat, usually eating some dried meat from a very old dusty box in the pantry. He’d get dressed in a nice outfit, a coat, shined shoes, clothes too rich for someone like him. He’d go wake up Julian by knocking lightly on the door, and going to the large cushy bed and finding one of Julian’s fragile hands. 

Julian warned him that he slept heavy and that he also bruised easily so a good shake to a shoulder would… not be the best option. So Geralt would find a pale hand and give it a good squeeze and some gentle rubs and Julian would be yawning and blinking awake. 

“Oh good morning, dear, how did you sleep?”

“Good morning Geralt, dear, have you eaten?”

“Mornin’ Grlt, I feel a bit drunk still, are you hungry?”

“Good morning, dear” 

Julian always had to welcome Geralt to the day. Always had something to grumble out first thing, always started the day with words. And each day Geralt felt closer and closer, he started sitting on the edge of the boy’s bed to hold his hand before waking him up. 

Each day Julian would marvel at Geralt, telling him that somehow just seeing his ‘pretty golden eyes’ made him feel better. Julian would tell Geralt about the books he’d read, play his harp or his lute when he could, sometimes he’d ask Geralt to bring him things. Sometimes it was puzzles, or chess. Geralt found Julian was a very very good chess player but he preferred checkers. 

And his dolls. Julian had a mountain of beautifully crafted dolls. Some were wood, others glass, others porcelaine. Julian had a story for each one, where it was from, who got it for him, when he got it, everything. Julian loved his dolls, he had a few that had on simpler outfits that he occasionally liked to carry around with him when he was feeling especially bad. He liked to brush their hair and put different outfits on them. He knew all their names, Amice, Joy, and Helewis being his favorites. Those three sat by his bed and often in his bed and were often moved around and carried. 

Geralt never really had toys but when a fever delusional Julian placed a doll in his lap and told him to take care of her, well damn it he was going to figure it out. Geralt learned that you have to be careful when combing their hair and how you have to dress them so they don’t break and how to clean them when you drop a cup of tea on them. He learned how to keep them nice but also love them. 

Each day Geralt spent with the boy, each day he heard the rumbly good morning, each day he ate three meals with him, each day he helped the boy into the warm tub, each day Geralt felt like he had never before. Warm and happy and his heart… his heart felt full . And it was all because of Julian. 

----

"Geralt? Would you please get me something to eat? I'm feeling oddly hungry." Julian said as he sat down from where he had been standing against the rail of the balcony. Somehow he felt... better today. He yelled hello to Edwin who was working in the garden and had been able to walk from his bed to the balcony. He had been feeling better each day it seemed these last few months. He’d been up more that was for sure. Geralt often told him that the sun would help him but also that the balcony was boring. So he was down, being rolled through the gardens or being pushed to the end of the driveway, laughing at the way the rocks bounced him around, or he was being carried down the stairs and sat at the large dining table to socialize with the servants. 

Geralt really did help him.

Julian wasn’t usually embarrassed but he felt more comfortable asking for help with certain things. He no longer struggled to wash himself, simply asking Geralt to wash his back or help rinse the soap off his skin, he didn’t feel shy asking for the bedpan or hurrying to the bathroom, Geralt would simply put him there. He felt easy saying that he didn’t want to wear pants to bed or that it was warm and he didn't want to wear a shirt in the bedroom. 

He was just… content and happy with Geralt. The stoic man’s short comments and quiet nature. It was comfortable. 

"Do you want me to make you some eggs?” Geralt offered from where he was sipping tea in the sun, opposite from where Julian sat at the small table. The boy smiled and looked over at his friend. 

“That sounds perfect, dear” Julian answered and Geralt was slow to finish his tea and stand up, walking away only to turn back. 

“Come on, I’m taking you with me.” He said and soon Julian was in his chair being carried down the stairs. 

He felt… alive. Warm, welcomed, happy, alive. 

-----

"Geralt here gives me strength. Now, let me pour you all a drink. Do not help me." Julian ordered as he stood up from the head of the table. He left his cane behind, instead picking up a quite heavy brass pitcher. Eleven people. He just had to pour eleven drinks. 

He’d been feeling better and better, each day he saw Geralt, each day that he saw everyone and got to do something fun, he just felt stronger. 

Geralt had been bundling him up and taking him out into the snow, or at least getting him out into the patio. Julian had even made a little snowman, and Geralt had never felt happier sneaking out at night to make a whole group of snowmen, right under the balcony so Julian could see them. He had even given them little leaf hats made from old cabbage. 

Geralt was the fuel that kept Julian trying. Kept the boy from wasting away in bed. Even on the worse days Geralt would at least bring him the little dolls and keep busy nearby. 

Everyone knew it too. That’s why when Julian proposed they all have a nice big winter feast together, they all knew Geralt would be picking at them all. ‘ Be on time’ ‘Show up’ ‘Don’t help him’, That was the oddest thing. Geralt went around telling everyone not to help Julian at all. 

Now they knew why. The count wanted to show his strength and independence. 

A few of them held their cups up to the spout to make it a bit easier as he shaked heavily with each pour. His arms were aching by the time he got to the other end of the table. Geralt held his cup up for Julian who let the pitcher rest heavily against its rim, knowing Geralt wouldn’t let the pitcher fall. 

Finally as he fell back into his chair, pitcher set hastily against the table, tears streamed down his face, he smiled and nodded, fixing his posture. 

"Goodness me, Geralt's cured me hasn't he." Julian joked as his body shook and hurt horrible and tears streamed down his face from both pain and joy. Everyone clapped and raised their glasses to him. It was a good thing, to see the count so happy, so active. It was a good thing to see. 

Even as he tried to pick up his cup only to have it drop from his hand and splash over the rim a bit. 

"To my friends, who share their strength with me, who's companionship gives me life." Julian said, voice shaking. He smiled and they all raised their glasses, cheering a bit before digging into the feast laid across the table. 

The dinner went on for hours, stories shared freely about travels and chance meetings. Some stories about even the darkest of margics, Julian was enthralled. He laughed and ate and drank and enjoyed the warmth of family around him. A warmth that he had only felt the barest of with his actual family now burn warm and white around him. He stayed until everyone else retired to their rooms, except Geralt who cleaned up. 

The alcohol sparked enough confidence in himself that he started to walk to his own room, he made it halfway to the stairs before Geralt had an arm around his waist. 

“Come on, princess. Up to bed with you.” Geralt rumbled, he was dead on his feet and Julian had run off on him. Julian was happy to be picked up and carried against Geralt’s chest, a much more intimate pose than how Geralt usually carried him in his chair. 

Julian giggled and hugged onto Geralt’s strong broad shoulders. 

“Are you the dashing prince that’s come to save me? I didn’t know I was so lucky.” Julian giggled as Geralt carried him up the stairs. The boy was dead asleep by the time he was being laid gently onto his bed. Geralt just watched him, his soft face relaxed, his chest rising and falling slowly. 

Geralt let himself indulge and petted through the soft chestnut hair that fell across the boy’s face. Geralt let himself enjoy the moment for just a second longer before gently stripping Julian of his day clothes and pulling on his thick winter pajamas and tucking him in under the thick blankets. 

“Gerlt? Geralt, are you here?” Julian asked sleepily as he heard the fire being built up for the night. Geralt hummed. 

“Yes, Julian?” He said softly, in a way that had Julian smiling into the darkness. The boy snuggled back into his bed, warm and full and a little drunk. 

“Nothing, just wanted to say thank you. Goodnight dear, I love you.” Julian said before rolling onto his side and falling fast asleep. 

Geralt was a statue. I love you . Geralt felt struck by lightning. Because… well…

“I love you too, Julian.” 

----

“Geralt are you- have you- have you ever-” Julian tried to ask one night as he read through one of his more dirty novels, it was french, of course. 

Geralt was scrubbing the wine out of some shirts, it was a hot day out and Julian had knocked over the whole pitcher. Geralt was shirtless, sitting by the wash basin in nothing but a pair of light pants. Julian just… well he didn’t really know. He was feeling… a certain way. 

“What was that?” Geralt asked as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked over at Julian who was under the simple musin sheet, book held up so only his eyes were visible.

“Have you ever… are you a virgin?” Julian finally asked, voice turning squeaky. Geralt raised a brow at him and huffed a laugh. 

“I am not. I haven’t been for a long time. Why?” Geralt responded and went back to scrubbing, knowing Julian was a bit… timid when it came to anything sexual. He’d once said he’d been betrothed to a young countess when he was born but she’d left him when his family passed. And that he hadn’t had a girlfriend since. 

“I was um… I was just wondering. Um cause, oh you know, um… because I am.” Julian said, eyes just peaking over the top of his book. Geralt nodded, not looking at him. 

“I know.” Is all Geralt responded with. He was curious, of course, but he knew Julian was sensitive about his sexuality, or rather his lack thereof.  

“Is it… did you have sex w…with a girl?” Julian asked, hoping he wasn’t chasing Geralt away. He hoped he wasn’t overstepping; he just… he wanted to know. 

“I’ve had sex with girls, yes.” Geralt answered, his back was facing the boy now. Geralt grinned, it was just like talking to his younger brothers. Julian was just a young man, not really a count, just a teenager who wanted to know about sex. 

“Oh… have you… um… just girls?” Julian asked quietly, face burning up. He waited, staring at Geralt’s strong back, spattered with odd scars and marks. Geralt was so… fetching to look at. Strong and solid and confident and… handsome. All over handsome. Julian would bet his cock was handsome, too. 

Julian shook his head, getting that thought away from him when Geralt turned around. Now facing him, Geralt let a small smile grace his lips as he shook his head with a sigh. 

“No, not just girls. Why? Do girls not… interest you?” Geralt phrased carefully. Julian swallowed and shook his head from where he still hid behind his book. Geralt nodded with a hum and kept his eyes on Julian. He let his head cocked to the side, giving the boy a look. 

“That’s okay. You don’t have to like girls. Do you like anyone ?” Geralt asked, head tilted like a curious cat. He tried not to smile at the way Julian’s eyes flitted around the room from where they peaked over the book. 

“I um… I might.” Julian said, trying to sound confident in himself like Geralt did. He failed miserably though, ending up squeaking like a bad hinge. Geralt nodded and went back to scrubbing shirts. 

“Good.” Is all Geralt said before they fell back into a compioned silence. Julian went back to his book not really reading the kissing scene anymore, rather thought about Geralt… oh Geralt. 

------

“Geralt, do you…. Can I sit with you?” Julian asked as he made his way out to the balcony. He was leaning on his cane waiting. Geralt was confused, Julian never asked to sit in his own chair at his own table on his own balcony. 

“Go ahead?” Geralt said in a confused way but was soon letting out an exacerbated chuckle. Julian flopped down in his lap, legs thrown over the arm of the chair. He wasn’t a very heavy boy, not even half of Geralt's own weight. 

“Hmm, so much more comfortable.” Julian hummed and laid his head against Geralt’s shoulder, he loved the springtime. 

He loved how the sun was warm and the breeze was cool and how nice his heavy pants felt when they got warm from the sun but his light shirt kept him nice and cool. He loved how Geralt would pick him flowers and how the bees and butterflies were coming back slowly. He loved how in that moment spring meant that Geralt would sit on the balcony and read and had an open lap to sit on. 

Geralt set his book on the table, letting his arms wrap around the boy. He let his head fall to the side, laying against the top of Julian’s. It was… nice. 

“You’re heavy.” He said and Julian giggled and let his hand rest against Geralt’s chest, feeling the strong muscle hidden under his shirt. 

“You’re warm.” Julian said and snuggled deeper into Geralt, taking in big deep breaths of his smell, Geralt smelled a bit like horse but he always did and he smelled like dirt and blood and sweat and well… Julian liked it. Geralt smelled like living life and journey, it was nice. 

They sat there like that, basking in the warm sun, enjoying the company of each other, in silence. They each enjoyed it, both enjoying the feeling of another person pressed against them, both feeling calm companionship calming them both down to their bones. The breeze in the treetops, the birds chirping happily, quiet noise, the only small buzz of nature being the only sound around them. 

Silence though, was never Julian’s thing. At least not after his legs had fallen asleep and his heart hurt and his eyes watered. He sniffed but held still, still against Geralt’s strong body, eyes dancing across the horizon as the sun sank beyond the mountains. 

“You know Geralt… I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Here, now, right here with you, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” Julian said as tears flooded from his eyes. He turned and hid his face in the soft dark fabric of Geralt’s shirt, hand clutching where it had laid. 

Geralt just hugged him, holding him against his chest, hands rubbing up and down his trembling back. Julian was so emotional, always saying flowery things and crying and laughing and… having such big emotions. Feelings always upfront. So unlike Geralt. 

“I’m happy here, with you, too.” Geralt said, truth heavy in his voice. Julian huffed a laugh and wiggled so he was sitting up looking right into Geralt’s eyes. Julian’s blue eyes glimmered like diamonds, eyes rimmed red from crying. He flung his legs around so he was straddling Geralt as a serious look painted his face. 

“You’re happy here with me?” He asked, hands coming up to rub at his face but his eyes kept on Geralt’s. Geralt let his hands rest on Julian’s hips, causing the boy to gasp and buck back away from him before relaxing. Julian’s mouth was hung open, breaths thin and faster than usual. Geralt looked him up and down and hoped he wasn’t reading the boy wrong. 

“I’m very happy here Julian. I’m very happy being with you. You make me happy, Julian.” He said quietly, barely above a whisper. He didn’t want to risk leaning the few inches forward it would take to press his lips to Julian’s own. But he craved to just get a little taste, a tiny kiss, just to get the smallest. 

Julian smiled and put his hands on the sides of Geralt’s face. Squishing his cheeks. 

“Do you mean it?” Julian asked and stared into Geralt’s golden eyes, like he could see the truth if he just looked hard enough. Geralt moved his hands to pull Julians away from his face and held them in his own. 

“Julian?” Geralt said softly and let his hands warm the thin cold ones within them. Julian swallowed and looked down at his lips before looking back into his eyes. 

“Yeah?” Julian breathed out, his heart racing in his chest when he realized how they were sitting. They were…. So close. 

Geralt leaned in, tilting his head to the side just a bit, warm breath cascading over Julian’s lips and cheeks. Geralt let his eyes fall closed and his nose rub against Julian’s. He opened his eyes after only a moment, lids heavy as his body became warmer with want. 

“‘M gonna kiss you now” He warned and Julian was nodding needily. He pressed his lips gently, so so carefully against Julian’s own. 

Julian was… not a bad kisser. Eager, pushy, but… soft and tender. Lips staying shut, just easy pushes and movements. Geralt’s hands fell down to his hips, only to squeeze gently and run up and down Julian’s soft sides. Julians own hands found their way to Geralt’s shoulders, holding on for dear life. 

His eyes were tightly squeezed shut when they pulled back. Lips kissed red and plump where he was breathing shakily. He was panting from chaste, closed mouth kisses?

Cute, Geralt thought. 

Julian opened his eyes, rimmed with tears, and grasped Geralt’s jaw. He looked into Geralt’s eyes, glowing like fire in the sunset’s light. He felt like his heart was beating out of his chest and his head was getting light but he wanted to kiss Geralt more. He felt like he could cry with how happy he was, he was nearly crying with how much love he felt. 

“I’m gonna faint. But I wanna, wanna… will you put me to bed?” Julian said as his eyes started getting a bit fuzzy. Geralt was calm and gentle as he just stared at Julian’s bright blushed face. The boy just looked sleepy and rested his head against Geralt’s shoulder, hands falling into his lap. 

“I’ll put you to bed, Julek, little bird, come on.” Geralt whispered more to himself than the unconscious boy as he carried him back into the house, back to bed. 

Geralt busied himself around. Making a small fire, sweeping the floors, lighting the candles, bringing up fresh water to make tea, and he sat and watched Julian sleep, snuggled up under the covers. 

----

They shared more kisses, Julian falling into Geralt’s lap asking for a few sweet kisses or to just sit and eat together or he’d just nap in Geralt’s lap. 

Geralt was always grateful to have the other man near, chatting incessantly about anything from music to animals to pictures he’s seen of the far east. He liked to hear the boy explain how a new poet was rising a few townships over and that he was as senseless as headless chicken, or how there’s a new author and his books are written so well it’s like you’re actually standing amongst the jungles, hearing the monkeys, swimming under the waterfalls. 

Julian would go on and on, sitting on Geralt’s lap, sometimes a blanket thrown over them. Sometimes they would sit on the balcony in a large wicker chair that Geralt had brought up from the library downstairs. Sometimes Geralt would help Julian out to the garden and they’d sit on the grass together, cuddled in the sun. Other times Julian would be so weak that they simply sat very close next to each other, feet touching or hands holding. 

And each morning Geralt would make sure to clean his mouth and chew some mint before Julian was awake. Because each morning Geralt would sit on the edge of the bed, rub Julian’s hand in his own, and tell the boy it was time to start the day. And each morning Julian would pull Geralt down, usually by a hand on his jaw, and press a kiss to his lips. 

“Good morning dear, you look lovely.”

“Good morning, darling”

“‘Morning, lovely, please close the curtains”

Every morning Julian would give him a kiss and welcome Geralt to the day. Each morning Julian opened his eyes and pressed a kiss to him, Geralt was more than just awake, he was alive. Each morning Julian brought him back to life, restarted his heart, brought breath into his lungs. 

----

"Geralt? Will you come here to me?" Julian asked as he laid in bed, body aching and heavy. Ever since Julian's fall, Geralt would stay in the room until Julian was asleep. 

The boy had gotten up after he’d said his goodnights to Geralt. He’d been feeling well, very well, so he thought he might just go downstairs and find a cookie or two and head right back to bed, right back to bed!

However after a day of playing checkers and playing his harp and going down to play the piano while the servants cleaned and worked, he was not as strong as he had been that day. 

He fell in the hallway, nearly falling down the stairs. His ankle had swollen up and he had terrible black bruises. Geralt had lectured him, marching back and forth in the room while Julian wept in bed, saying he was sorry and that he wouldn’t do it again. Geralt also brought a cookie jar up and set it on the mantle. 

But he also refused to go to his own room until Julian was asleep. So when Julian bathed and was ready for bed, Geralt bathed and got ready for bed. It was warm in the home now, no need to make fires at night, so Geralt would simply sit by the window, single candle light lit by the door, and wait until he could hear Julian’s soft snores. 

But tonight… Julian felt… something felt heavy in his chest. Perhaps it had something to do with the book he was reading or maybe it was that his one act of independence had landed him with a swollen ankle and a bruised backside. 

Geralt came over and knelt by the bed, holding Julian’s outstretched hand. Julian smiled at him, his eyes looked tired and he was pale. 

Today had been a very hot humid day, the hours taking their toll on everyone. Even the housemaid had left behind some layers, all citing that Julian would be just fine seeing their bare feet or their hair not under a cap. Julian had spent most of the day laying atop the sheets in bed in nothing but a pair of light linen pants. Now he was tucked under the sheets, pants traded for his nighty. 

Now he just looked… tired. The moonlight only working to make him look paler, his under eyes darker, his skin cooler. Geralt held his hand, the smooth soft skin feeling softer than air. 

"Come lay under the covers with me." The boy asked and Geralt looked into his eyes in surprise. Julian’s bed? It was… the boy barely kept his few dolls on his bed, yet he wanted something like Geralt to marr its appearance? 

"In your bed?" Geralt asked, bringing the soft hand up to rub his cheek against, eyes watching Julian’s as he rolled them and sighed dramatically. Such a dramatic boy. 

"Well? I'm cold and I feel weak and I want to feel close. Come lay under my blankets, come lay with me." Julian begged, eyes brimming with tears. Geralt kissed his hand and warmed it between his own. He shook his head a bit and slipped his shoes off his feet

"Okay, only because I don't want you to cry." He said and pulled his dark shirt off and folded it, leaving it behind in his chair when he climbed behind Julian in bed. 

The boy was staring. Geralt was… beautiful. Such pale skin, scars spattered across his body, muscles like the statues carved from marble. He looked like a character from one of Julian’s dirty novels, a real Adonis, all edges and strength and- 

“What’s wrong, love? Am I… I can go sleep in my own bed. I can take another bath.” Geralt offered before he touched the bed, noticing Julian staring so hard he could feel himself shrinking. Julian just blinked at him, big bright eyes filled with something… light. 

“You never told me you were the fairest flower in all the fields, that I might gp blind merely from a glance at you.” Julian muttered, pushing himself to sit up to get a better look at the scars that whipped across his abdomen and chest. He felt a bit dizzy with how his blood grew hot and swirled in his gut. Geralt was… unfair. So pretty, so perfect, how dare he ever wear clothes. 

Geralt huffed and looked away, a light flush finding its way to his face. Julian… always with flowery words and and… compliments. 

“Julian, go to bed.” Geralt said and climbed in behind the boy who rolled over to face the man. He was biting his bottom lip, hands brought up curiously but halted to wait a mere inch from Geralt’s chest. 

“Can I touch you? I’ve never seen you… bare.” Julian said, looking at Geralt with a kind of… wonder. Wonder of how another man would feel under his hands, how Geralt’s skin would feel, would his scars feel soft or are they tender still, how would Geralt react if he just snuggled close. 

Geralt sighed and nodded, looking away as his face burned up. Julian made a happy noise and let his hands gently lay on the other’s chest. Julian was taken aback, shocked. 

Geralt was so warm, and he felt so solid, and he was so… everything. Julian let his hands press and feel and explore across the miles of pale skin, fingers tracing across scars, feeling Geralt’s heartbeat in his chest. Julian laid there, staring where his hand pressed into Geralt’s chest, feeling each heartbeat as if it was his own. 

“I love you Geralt.” Julian whispered, he could barely tear his eyes away to look into the nearly glowing gold ones. Geralt smiled and let his own larger hand fall over Julian’s. 

“It’s late, it’s dark, it’s time for bed. Go to sleep, Julian.” Geralt whispered so sweetly and Julian was nodding along. He was so sleepy and Geralt was so warm and in his bed and it was… it was perfect. 

He cuddled in close, hiding himself away in Geralt’s chest, throwing an arm and leg over him. He let his eyes fall shut as he felt Geralt’s arm wrap around him, hand rubbing up and down his back. 

“You’re not allowed to wear clothes anymore, by the way.” Julian muttered into the soft skin of Geralt’s collarbone. Geralt huffed and gave Julian a squeeze. 

“Go to sleep, little bird.” Geralt said and soon Julian was drooling asleep, snores lulling Geralt into his own deep restful sleep. 

-----

"Geralt let me, let me walk. I can make it. I've been working on my stamina." Julian said as he stood up from his chair in the hallway. He gave his love a wink and got his cane under him. Geralt shook his head and allowed Julian to walk in front of him. 

Ever since they started sleeping in the same bed, they had both been getting much more sleep. Which meant Julian wanted to do everything together. They got up, got clean and fresh, dressed, and made their way down to eat with the rest of the household. Which meant going down the stairs. Which usually meant Geralt carrying Julian like a princess, or over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and then Julian sometimes walking in through the dining room doors. 

However today Julian had decided he would walk to breakfast. Well… walk to the stairs that is. He had been walking more, getting stronger, and he was feeling especially confident. 

"Sure thing, Julek, put your big girl panties on this morning?" Geralt teased and Julian blushed and didn't look at him. Geralt’s joking had grown from grunts to actual comments. And the nickname… It made Julian feel all soft and melty. 

Geralt was a Slov, Julian had learned, and he'd begun calling Julian ‘Julek’, others called him Jewel, and an older lady who came to the house on Geralt's call to see Julian's progress called him Jaskier but she also only spoke polish. But Julek , hearing Geralt’s gruff voice say the name, it made Julian feel like a new person, a new thing, something just created. 

“I sure did! And they fit me just fine!” Julian responded and took a steeling breath. 

Julian started walking down the hall finding it was easier than the last time he'd tried. Each step steady until nearly to the stairwell. His legs began to shake as he grabbed onto the railing, his heart was racing in his chest and his head felt a bit light. He was trying to take big deep breaths, but he felt like his chest was squeezing. 

Geralt was quick to put an arm around his waist, supporting him enough so he could catch his breath before scooping him up. Geralt gave him a I-told-you-so look and started walking down the stairs. 

"Yeah, eat shit, I still made it." Julian teased as Geralt grinned as they made it down to the dining room. 

-----

Loving was easy between them. Life was easy between them. 

They spent days sitting together in the sun. Geralt once set Julian out in the rain, giggling like a kid until he began to shiver a bit and then Geralt had a warm fire and a blanket to wrap around him. 

The summer was Julian’s favorite time of year. He loved the feeling of a sun warmed blanket and the scent of the gardens in full bloom. Geralt was there to bring him flowers and sit with him to watch the birds. 

Geralt didn’t care about the weather. He just loved seeing Julian so happy. He loved to tuck a flower behind his ear, he loved to trade him fresh apples and berries for kisses, he loved to go out in the rain to bring Julian a hydrangea bloom just to shake it over his head to give the boy a shower. 

Most of all he loved the way Julian laughed. Full and hearty like he had heard the funniest thing every time. He loved the way Julian smiled, bright and wonderful. He loved the way even when he was weak and sick Julian still gave Geralt shit and was a brat and gave sass. 

He loved Julian more than anything. 

And everyday Geralt was happy. Julian was happy. It was… good. Geralt had lived for a very long time and yet he’d never been so happy. 

They more often than not shared a bed, Julian cradled against Geralt's chest. During the warmer months Geralt would strip them both down to their sleep clothes. Julian sleeping in nearly see-through linen nighties and Geralt in a pair of soft pants and no underclothes. In the colder months Geralt would sleep in heavy wool pants but never had the heart to put a shirt on, knowing Julian found comfort in skin-to-skin. Julian would wrap up in his heavy nighty and a pair of thick socks. 

They both grew into their new schedule, they just fit together, like an easy rhythm. 

----

Julian got stronger, he ate more, in the nearly two years since Geralt had arrived, he'd grown able to make it down the stairs, stay awake all during the day, and even ride into town and see the people, often only needing his cane. He could pour the whole table glasses of wine with just a slight tremble. He was so happy with life, he was so happy with everything. Even on his sickest days he felt everything was okay. Because Geralt was there and Geralt was… Geralt was strong enough for the both of them. 

--

One night, he felt... viral . He felt alive and hot in belly for the first time in so long. 

He was laying in bed, just under a sheet, waiting for Geralt to get done cleaning up after their baths. They’d begun bathing together, hualing the big tub up from the first floor up so they could sit front to back in the tub. Geralt claiming he didn’t have much shame, and Julian agreeing cause wow… Geralt had let Julian touch him, sort of. He never let him touch his cock but let the boy press their bodies together, half hard cock rub against his plush ass. 

Julian had liked that feeling but they never had that… sensual atmosphere in their baths. But that night… he had a hot melty feeling in his groin and his cock ached. His head was full of images of Geralt, his body, the way he looked soaked from the rain, short hair flopping over his face, water dropping running down his chiseled muscles. The way he grunts when he has to haul something heavy around, the weak little huffs he makes when he has a bad dream, the sighs he lets out when he lays down after a long day. 

He let his hand creep down to himself, under his chemise. He was hard. Goodness... that hadn't happened in years. He could barely remember the last time he was hard and awake. He’d woken up with a wet nighty many times but never woke up… hard. Nor had he worked up to a hardon while he was awake for so long. 

"Geralt!" Julian called and heard the thundering quick steps of Geralt running to the room. Julian had his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Hand cradling the burning flesh of his cock. 

"What? You scared me, you prick." Geralt said as he saw the boy was fine in bed. He took a calming breath and put his hands on his hips. Julian had an odd look on his face and he had his arms weird across his body… Geralt just stared at him and slowly walked up to the bed. 

"My prick indeed." Julian said and pulled his hand away from himself after a quick squeeze.

"What're you on about?" Geralt asked. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed. Julian looked away from him, face turning a cherry red. 

"Geralt... can we do something together?" The count asked nervously and brought his knees together under the thin sheet. He wanted Geralt so much, just seeing the other man standing there in his thin pants and light shirt, the feeling of getting down to Geralt’s skin, to feel his warmth. 

Geralt looked down at the boy, his eyes blown big, cheeks cherry red and creeping down his chest. He wanted to pick the sheet up to see underneath, see what the boy was hiding. He felt the pull, the warmth in his own belly, he wasn’t a very sexual man but Julian was so soft. So sweet smelling and warm with the plushest body and the kindest hands. 

"What do you wanna do, Julek?" Geralt asked, letting his fingers graze atop the covers beside Julian’s arm. He gave the boy a look, golden eyes warm and open, lips practically begging for a kiss. 

"I um... not to be so forward but will you lay under the cover with me and well... l-lay with me?" Julian asked, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Geralt grinned, pointy teeth on display and crawled up on the bed, throwing a leg over Julian’s thighs, causing his legs to lay flat. 

Julian had a nervous look on his face that was soon being washed away by biting tongue filled kisses. Geralt let himself go, hips grinding down onto Julian’s, savoring the feeling of a hard cock rubbing up against his own. He got washed away in the feeling of Julian yanking his shirt off and untying his trousers. 

“You’re stunning, my dear, so pretty” Julian said and let his hands wander, rubbing across Geralt’s broad shoulders, down to squeeze his hips, back up to cup his muscular pec. 

“Do you really want this, Julian? Do you want me to… to do this to you?” Geralt asked from where he had started sucking and nipping down the boy’s neck. Julian grabbed two fistfulls of his hair and yanked him up to face him, determination plain on his face. 

Geralt sucked in a breath and dared not move from where Julian had an iron grip in his hair, the pain of it sparking something he rather not look into. He stared down at the boy, he wanted, gods he wanted , but… he couldn’t do anything until Julian said okay. 

“Geralt, man who’s stolen my heart, man who’s the only one I’ve ever loved, if you don’t touch my cock in the next moment I’m going to cry. I can’t do much else but I’ll cry.” Julian threatened and tears already welled up in his eyes. He felt good and Geratl was so pretty and it was so so good and so so new. 

Geralt shook his head and Julian let go of his hair. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to Julian’s lips. Julian sniffs as tears roll down his face, breaths hiccuping as Geralt ground down again. 

“I thought you wouldn’t cry.” Geralt said and leaned back to pull the sheet away and look down at where Julian’s cock was standing up against his belly, nighty rucked up to his sternum. He looked down and gave it a few light strokes. 

Julian moaned and bucked up, hands scrambling down to grab at Geralt’s wrists. He cried out and looked up at Geralt who had a look on his face, like a starved animal. 

“You gotta hold still for me, for just a minute, baby, just hold still, Julek” Geralt panted out and leaned back yanking his pants down, struggling just to get them down. 

“Geralt, what- what’re you going to do? I don’t… you know I don’t know how this works. Not with… not with two boys” Julian said in a panic as he yanked Geralt’s pants off his feet and flung them away. Geralt was back on him, straddling his waist, huge heavy cock covering Julian’s own. 

Julian just stared down at it… it was nearly the size of his forearm and it felt like fire on his skin. Geralt was so fucking perfect and… Julian felt so nervous, his belly twisting in a bad way. 

That was until Geralt was rubbing his hands up and down Julian’s sides, shushing him. 

“Just hold on, little bird, you just have to hold on for a second.” Geralt said and looked at Julian’s small bedside… oil. They needed some for this activity. 

He thought about it just for a moment before remembering something he’d seen in Julian’s harp case. He leaned down and kissed the boy again, sucking on his tongue for a moment when he pulled back. 

“Do you have that… that polishing oil with your harp still?” Geralt asked as he leaned back from kissing him. Julian was breathless, tears rolling down the sides of his face as he nodded, eyes unfocused and lips kissed red and puffy. 

“Yeah, it’s- it’s in the drawer” Julian answered after a moment to process what Geralt had said. He watched the larger man move to climb off the bed and dig through the drawer in the corner that held all Julian’s instrument’s tools and such. 

Gorgeous. That’s all Julian could think as he witnessed Geralt standing in the moonlight. One side of him, pale skin glowing in the light of the full moon, the other warmed by the candles. His hair was longer than it had been when he first arrived, now catching the light and casting the most stunning shadows across the man’s angular face. 

“ Julian ~” The boy finally heard as he came back into his mind, noticing Geralt was speaking. He looked at him, all tall and strong and hot and his cock and body and…

“‘M a bit dizzy” Julian said and Geralt soon returned, laying Julian back down flat, wiping tears away from his face, shushing him. 

“It’s alright. Do you still want to do this? It’s okay if you-” Geralt said and leaned down to wipe Julian’s eyes clean and looked down at him. He was cute. Plush and snuggly, adorable in his frilly nighty and his little socks. He was hard still, cock hard against his belly, dripping with need. 

“Please, I want you to do it. I wanna do it with you. I wanna lose… it … to you. Please.” Julian begged, staring up at Geralt’s amber eyes. He didn’t wanna be a virgin a moment longer; he wanted Geralt more than anything else. 

Geralt smiled down at him letting his hand go from wiping away tears to push the hair off Julian’s face. He crawled back up on the bed, straddling the boy once more, hands faced on his chest as he ground his ass over the boy’s hard cock. 

Julian let out a long moan and grabbed Geralt’s hips, thick muscular hips. 

“Be good, little bird, have patience.” Geralt whispered as he sat up straight, uncorking the bottle of oil. He looked down at Julian as he covered his fingers with the slick. Julian watched and looked confused. 

That was until Geralt was letting his fingers rub and slip into his hole. 

“I put my cock there? In you there? Won’t it hurt?” The boy asked as he watched Geralt’s hands move, one fingering himself open, the other holding the base of his cock, occasionally giving it a few tight strokes. 

Geralt was efficient with stretching himself out a bit, Julian wasn’t really that big. He huffed a laugh at the boy’s questioning and pulling his fingers away, stroking Julian’s cock a few times getting the extra oil off on him. 

Julian watched him, hands gripping the sheet below him. He stared down at where Geralt was kneeling over him, where Geralt was holding his cock to stand up. 

“It’s not gonna hurt me, sweetheart, this is just how… how boys do it.” Geralt said, breathless as he guided Julian’s cock to press against his wet hole. Julian just made sorry little huffing sounds until Geralt was easing down onto him. Both then letting out long moans until Geralt was sat on Julian’s hips. 

“You did it. ‘M not a virgin. Fucking gods, you feel amazing” Julian moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow under him, overwhelmed with the feeling. The feeling of being connected, of Geralt’s tight warm body, the feeling of them being together, matching and fitting together like puzzle pieces. They did match perfectly together. 

And they could both feel it. 

“I did, I took you. You’re mine, Julek, mine only. Promise me, promise your mine.” Geralt panted out and took Jlian’s hand, holding it to his heaving chest. Julian nodded, automatically agreeing. 

“Yes, yes my dear heart, my love, I’m all yours. All yours. Now have me, please.” Julian said, desperation creeping into his voice at the end. Geralt stayed for a breath longer, feeling how his heart felt sparked alive. 

And then the love melted away and the lust won over. He rose up on his knees till only the tip was still inside him and then he was letting himself fall back down, careful not to hurt the boy’s legs. Well as careful as he could be when Julian was clawing at his hips and moaning like he was putting a show on at a brothel. 

Julian was quick to cum, as expected, and was nearly passed out when Geralt guided his hand to wrap around his own cock. He was stroking himself more than Julian was, but that was okay, it was better than okay when he came and a single drop reached up to Julian’s chin and the boy licked it off. 

“That’s nasty, why do people swallow that stuff?” The boy said and made a face when the drop of cum hit his tongue. Geralt laughed, really laughed, as he sat beside the boy, feeling the cum drip from his hole. 

He reached back and grabbed the water from the bedside and guided Julian to drink some. The boy drank some and laid back, eyes slipping close as his hands rested against his clothed chest. 

He felt no shame laying in his bed with his wet cock out and his belly and nighty covered in another man’s cum. He only felt happy, and content, and tired, and wow… wow. 

“I love you Geralt. Do you want to get another bath?” The boy asked without opening his eyes. He missed the way Geralt looked down at him, eyes full of love and devotion. He didn’t know what was touching him either before he was being lifted up and carried down to the stairs. 

He didn’t open his eyes to see Geralt’s tears rolling down his face, or his smile, or his trembling lip. He was already asleep as Geralt filled a tub and held him close to his chest and wept as he cleaned them both. 

“môj vtáčik, môj, zostaň tu, zostaň so mnou” ( my little bird, mine, stay here, stay with me ) He whispered quietly as he tucked them both back into bed, holding and cuddling close to Julian who only sighed and wrapped his arms around the warm body open to him. 

It was perfect. So perfect. Warm and cozy and they both slept so well that night. Love was so thick in the air you could nearly see it. It was more than just perfect. It was nice. Geralt learned that nice was… so much better. So much better than being alive, than seeing, than hearing, than anything else. Nice was lovely. Nice was… alive. 

However nothing nice ever lasts.  

Julian got sick. 

So, so sick. 

He was pale, he barely ate, he was always cold, he had nose bleeds and his eyes went fuzzy and he was...

He was dying. 

Geralt tried everything to help him, gave him meds, asked the mages, asked the warlocks, he tried everything but Julian would smile and kiss and tell him it would be okay. 

"You knew this would happen when you came here. I'm sorry, Geralt. I'm so sorry I'm hurting you." The boy cried and held the man’s face in his trembling hands. He felt so terrible, not for himself, but for seeing Geralt be so worried. He could see the pain in Geralt's eyes each day when he wasn’t any better or when he struggled to breath or when he hacked up blood. He felt so terrible for hurting his beloved man. 

"No Julek, you're not hurting me. I never knew I could love before you. I love you, Julian, I love you." Geralt said as tears slid down his face, hands holding onto Julian’s thin wrists. He smiled at the pale skeleton that was once his plush pudgy love. 

He still loved him.

He’d love him a thousand times and a million times over. He’d give anything for him. He’d give him life, his heart, his body, anything. He just wanted Julian… to stay with him. 

"I love you too, my gem, my handsome man. Don't weep, my love, don't cry. You've given me more in the past few years than anyone else has my entire life. I'm so grateful for you. Please don't forget how much you gave me, I can never repay you." Julian said and wiped Geralt’s tears away with his thumbs. He was happy, he supposed. He was happy to have ever had Geralt for a moment. To have ever met him, to have ever even seen him. He could never repay the gods, destiny, or whoever brought the man to his home. He was happy to have had the man in his life. It hurt his heart to know he was hurting the strong man who wept before him. 

"You could stay. You could stay with me forever. Never leave me, please, please stay with me. I don't have anyone else." Geralt begged and begged. He’d do anything for Julian to stay. Anything. Julian only smiled and used his sleeve to pat away Geralt’s big tears. He shushed the bigger man and leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and his lips. 

"I'll stay. You're mine, I'm yours. We’re meant to be with each other. Our destinies are intertwined, our lives are melted together. Like soup." Julian said, remembering the first conversation they ever had, the feeling he had. Geralt huffed a sad laugh and nodded. 

"Like soup." He agreed and laid Julian back down. He could rest for a bit before Geralt brought their dinner up, even knowing Julian wasn’t going to eat, he’d still sit the boy at the table and sit with him. 

They went to bed, Geralt putting a nice clean nighty and socks onto Julian, and disrobing himself down to a pair of thick pants and socks. The seasons were changing and it was a bitter night. He made sure to cover Julian up, making sure he was warm. 

“Goodnight, my love, try to get some sleep, you’ve been restless for so long now.” Julian said to him with a soft kiss before rolling over to be spooned and snuggled. 

“I love you, Julek, my heart is yours.” Geralt confessed and pressed as close as he could to the boy and let exhaustion take over him. 

When Geralt woke up Julian was gone. 

He dressed him, put him in the middle of the bed, and made him look like a king. He got a cloth and washed him, ran a brush through his soft hair, and made sure he looked neat and noble. 

Not a tear rolling down his face. He needed to go away, he needed to leave before the successor came. He needed to make sure Julian was treated properly and then he needed to leave. 

He cleaned the room, face stone cold. 

He was in shock really, his chest hurt. He walked down and called everyone into the dining room and they all already knew. 

Geralt went into the town and informed them. 

A cousin would be taking the estate and the power. 

Geralt dug his grave and buried him the way he wanted to be, with his music notes and his childhood harp. He had cried over the boy when he was tasked with covering him in soil. He sobbed and sobbed, letting out the most pained sounds half the town had ever heard. He howled and cried out like an animal being shredded by wolves. 

He slept there in the dirt over the boy, refusing to leave him until the leaves covered the grave. He carved a J out of a strong branch of wood and placed it over where Julian was. 

Geralt was darker than night as he moved through the house, he would come at night and leave at dawn. Things were moved and changed, no one caring though. No one was going to question him and his grief. 

He was told Julian had given him a house in the mountains and that was the last anyone ever seen of Geralt, Servant of The Flower of Lettenhoven. Lover of the Great Count Julian Of Lettenhoven. 

No one knew where he went, assuming he had left just as he had arrived, in the darkness of night in silence. The house in the mountains had been destroyed by an avalanche years ago, no one went looking for trouble anyway.

-

The morning after they “had a milkshake” - as Jaskier nicknamed their first close encounter - Geralt had gone home right before sunrise to find Eskel wide awake, sitting on the living room couch, a book on his lap. Eskel had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “Coffee?” was all he had said and Geralt had been oh so grateful.

In the days that followed, he learned a bit more about Jaskier. He taught both poetry and musicology at university, gave private lessons, and performed with his band from time to time. Spring meant preparing finals, helping students to rehearse for auditions, and getting ready for the upcoming festivals The Bard would participate in. Between his schedule and Geralt’s, over a month had gone before they saw each other in the flesh again. But texting? Texting was definitely a Jaskier thing.

A couple of hours after Geralt had left, Jaskier had sent him a text saying “my bed misses you” . Geralt had promptly walked from one meeting to another, only realising at 6.30 pm during a phone call from Assengard, as he caught sight of the restaurant from across the street, that he had left Jaskier hanging. He tried to think of something clever on his way to pick Ciri up from her fencing class. To his surprise, his idea had worked very well on Jaskier.

Of course, as with most things concerning Jaskier, Geralt quickly discovered, it was prone to get out of hand. The man had decided that “the milkshake” would become “a thing”. The fact that Geralt’s favourite order at Denise’s included a vanilla milkshake with cream on top was apparently hilarious for reasons Geralt could not understand.

Since then, Geralt would receive texts from Jaskier every few days, ranging from “thinking of u” to “which one of these says ‘I am a 100%-responsible adult person who will turn your child into a virtuoso if you allow me to teach them?’” with a picture of two button-down shirts attached.

Geralt had left him on read , the bastard.

-

After the six most frustrating weeks of his life - yes, more frustrating than the whole summer he spent sharing a flat with a Spanish model who had very loud, very heterosexual sex on the other side of their paper-thin, shared bedroom wall - Jaskier finally got his hands back on his favourite lawyer’s ass.

They had agreed Geralt would meet him at his place that Friday after work. And so, Jaskier spent the afternoon trying to convince himself he could mark students’ essays, and was absolutely not in the hellish head-space where nervousness meets horniness. (He made it through five so he counted it as a win.)

He had changed outfits three times in two hours, and had promised Essi he absolutely was not falling for some seemingly perfect person who would then turn out to have a secret wife, three children and a dog (“Well since you’re asking, he has a very public ex-wife, one daughter, and a horse.” “A horse?” “Yup.” “What the hell?” “I have no fucking clue.”)

Jaskier was busy adjusting a sofa pillow to make it appear tidy-but-casual when the bell rang, making him jump out of his skin.

When he opened the door, Geralt looked like he was two seconds away from running back down the stairs and disappearing forever in some mysterious vineyard near Toussaint. Geralt, being the absolute asshole that he was, also looked like a fucking god amongst humans so Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him once again. He had almost forgotten how stunning the man was.

“Hi,” Geralt said.

Jaskier shook himself out of his dreamy smitten state and felt a tingle in his cheeks as he blushed. “Hey, come on in,” he said, waving the man inside.

Geralt had his hair tied in a casual bun and was wearing a black winter coat way above Jaskier’s pay grade. Gods, what a sight. Jaskier was fucked .

“Are you-”

“So how’s-”

They both started and stopped at the same time, which made Jaskier laugh and Geralt shake his head as he looked away, a side of his mouth rising into a smile. Boy, Jaskier thought, if Geralt was half as fond of him as he was of Geralt, they’d be married in three years, move to a farm in five, and adopt every stray dog in the area a year after that at the latest.

“Can I take your coat?” Jaskier offered.

As Geralt nodded, Jaskier got his hands on the lapels of Geralt’s coat, fingers absent-mindedly pressing against Geralt’s chest, feeling the soft wool, and the strong pecs underneath all the layers. A moment passed and he realised Geralt hadn’t moved an inch. He stopped staring at his own hand and, as he looked up, realised Geralt was looking at him. Or more like, looking at his mouth.

There was a beat and they both moved forward, catching each other’s lips.

“Fuck, is it ok to say I’ve missed you?” Jaskier breathed between two kisses.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, pushing Jaskier against the door and leaving his lips to kiss and suck the skin of his neck.

“Ah, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” he half-moaned and got Geralt’s mouth back against his, kissing like he just couldn’t get enough- because he couldn’t. Geralt got rid of his coat, letting it fall onto the floor.

“M-maybe we should take a second to hang it. It looks expensive.”

“It’s a gift from my ex,” Geralt mumbled against Jaskier’s skin, biting tentatively at his Adam’s apple.

“Or we could stomp all over it,” Jaskier deadpanned. Geralt laughed against his throat and Jaskier felt it resonate through his chest.

“So you’re the possessive kind, then?”

“Uh,” Jaskier bit his lip, “only if that turns you on.”

Geralt kissed a line up to Jaskier’s ear and caressed him through his trousers as he nibbled at his earlobe. In the softest, most quiet whisper, he murmured: “It does.”

Jaskier groaned with pleasure and Geralt kissed him in earnest, his hand still fondling the man’s inseam. He pressed his pelvis against Jaskier’s and both moaned from the supplementary friction.

“Let me try something?” Geralt asked against Jaskier’s lips before promptly getting down onto his knees.

“Oh, wow, okay,” Jaskier gasped as Geralt went straight for his belt. “Ah- w-wait, you- you sure?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, undoing the man’s button and zipper until Jaskier’s hands came to rest softly over his.

“No, I’m serious, you don’t have to.”

"I know,” Geralt answered, looking up at him. “I want to.”

“Okay. Okay. Just stop if it’s not good with you, right?”

“Right.”

He pulled Jaskier’s trousers down, not wasting any time. The curved line of his hardening cock was obvious under his underwear and Geralt slowed down, caressing the back of Jaskier’s thigh with one hand, the other moving up to his crotch. He palmed Jaskier through his boxer briefs (his navy blue boxer briefs) and was delighted to see him try to control his breathing through the surging wave of desire.

“Take them off for me?” Geralt asked, his voice rough with arousal.

Jaskier breathed out shakingly and slid his thumbs under the waistband, pulling his underwear down under Geralt’s relentless attention. Unable to stop himself, Jaskier took his own cock in hand and stroked himself, humming with pleasure with the first movement of his wrist. Geralt was sitting on his ankles, mesmerised.

“You like watching?” Jaskier asked, and even though the answer was pretty obvious, Geralt didn’t say it out loud. He raised to his knees, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s thighs, every breath softly tickling Jaskier’s skin, the hand maintaining its rhythm.

Moving upwards, Geralt’s tongue darted out to lick Jaskier’s balls, surprising him so much the back of his head hit the door, generating a moan which turned into a wince and then back into a moan again. Geralt’s smile shaped the kiss he pressed on Jaskier’s thigh as his fingers brushed through the man’s pubic hair, and slid up to find Jaskier’s hand, slowing it down.

Jaskier felt Geralt’s hot breath coming closer to his cock and had to bite his lower lip when the other man’s lips brushed against his fingers, kissing them one by one, silently asking him to let go. Jaskier didn’t need much convincing until, of course, fuck his goddamn unstoppable brain, a thought occurred to him.

“Wait!” he exclaimed and, at least, was blessed with the sight of Geralt looking up at him with surprise, his lips apart, tongue visible, and… Fuck, he looked so innocent and yet devilishly hot like this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Just- safety, right? You can, uh, get STIs. From, you know, sucking off someone unprotected. So you should be safe, you know.”

“Uh,” Geralt frowned. “Do you have STIs I should worry about?”

“No, I’m clean. I just mean, you know, in general.”

“I don’t need sex ed, Jaskier.”

“I know,“ he said, unconvincingly. "I’m just saying. Cause, like, it matters, and, you… well, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded even though he didn’t really. “Anything else?” he asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“Well, you shouldn’t take my word for it.”

“What?” Well, he only had himself to blame, right? He did ask.

“That I’m clean. I mean you can’t take people’s word for it, sometimes people just-”

“ Jaskier. I’ve slept with strangers before,” Geralt said bluntly, missing the brief pained look on Jaskier’s face at being classified as a stranger . “You’re clean. I’m clean. If you’re fine with this, I’m fine with this.”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. I am. Sorry,” Jaskier shook his head. “Did I just ruin it? It’s just, it matters you know, so I figured-”

“Jask. I get it. It’s fine,” Geralt said, rubbing his thumbs on each of Jaskier’s hip bones. “Can I suck your cock, now?” he asked softly. Jaskier’s worries disappeared from his mind instantly, and he nodded enthusiastically about twelve times above the consent limit.

Geralt took him into his hand and stroked him, slowly but firmly, further limiting his brain’s already diminished access to oxygen. Geralt’s other hand had reached out to fondle his ass and his fingers began to lightly drum along the back of Jaskier’s thigh, brushing softly, ghosting against his skin, and sending a brand new kind of sparks of want to Jaskier’s cock.

After a few strokes, Geralt brought his lips to the base of Jaskier’s shaft, kissing the hairs in a way one could have described as chaste if it hadn’t been happening so close to another man’s dick. He then proceeded to drop fuller kisses on the soft skin of Jaskier’s cock, pressing his lips against the skin almost reverently as his hand kept working Jaskier. When he was satisfied with the soft noises and the sound of fast breathing above him, he guided his hand back to the base of Jaskier’s cock, pumping a few times before guiding the tip of Jaskier’s dick to his mouth as he licked .

“Fffuck-” Jaskier gasped, and Geralt smiled.

Wetting his lips, he opened his mouth and wrapped it around the very tip of Jaskier’s cock, kissing it wetly, his tongue running against the underside. He let go, only to kiss the side of the head with an open mouth and then took Jaskier’s cock again.

As soon as he had run into Geralt at the bar, Jaskier had been both mindlessly infatuated and completely unsure what to expect. Geralt’s enthusiasm for learning to give head was definitely one of the things he didn’t see coming.

Geralt’s hand fondled his butt cheek again. As he pressed the tip of his fingers lightly against his sacrum, Jaskier sighed and angled his pelvis forward the way Geralt’s hand invited him to. Geralt took a slow breath through his nose, obviously trying to relax as much as he could as he moved forward, taking in a little more of Jaskier in his mouth and sliding his lips over the ring of Jaskier’s cock.

“Oh,” escaped from Jaskier’s lips as Geralt drew back slightly and took more of him again. “Oh darling, oh, yes, that’s good,” he stammered, caressing Geralt’s cheek before drawing back and slapping his hand against the door to ground himself and to restrain from grabbing the back of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt groaned softly at the loss, reaching out for Jaskier’s hand, closing his eyes as soon as he felt Jaskier’s touch again. He moaned as he kept sucking him slowly, clearly enjoying the guiding hand on his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” Jaskier moaned. His thumb rubbed softly against Geralt’s stubbly cheekbone before his hand slid against his cheek and jaw encouragingly. “Oh, that’s good, yeah that’s- Keep going, love,” he whispered again.

Biting his lower lip, Jaskier kept caressing Geralt’s cheek, whispering sweet nothings and sliding his fingers through the other man’s hair, convinced Geralt would have purred around his cock if he could.

"That’s really good, sweetheart,” and as Geralt enthusiastically took him a tad deeper, he just couldn’t help himself. “Oh, that’s my good boy ,” he moaned and Geralt all but choked on his dick.

Pulling back and resting a hand against the floor, half-slipping on his discarded coat, Geralt coughed and tried to get his breath back from choking on his own spit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry-” Jaskier kneeled by him hastily - and heavily . Having his jeans pooled around his knees wasn’t exactly helping him be graceful. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Geralt rasped, a bright shade of pink all over his face. He coughed again.

“Do you need a drink or something?”

Geralt laughed brokenly through a cough. “To help me forget I could have bitten your dick off?” he asked and Jaskier huffed.

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled, brushing away the hair across Geralt’s face as he leaned to kiss him. “This cock has seen worse.”

“That’s always comforting,” Geralt mumbled against his lips.

Jaskier laughed and caught his lips into another kiss, enjoying the way Geralt sighed comfortably, and held on to the back of his neck. His hand wandered to find the hem of Geralt’s shirt and slipped under his waistband before he arrived at a bright idea. “What if - and I know it’s going to be a very bold, and novel concept, but hear me out - what if we stopped using my front door and living room floor as acceptable fucking surfaces and straight out moved to the bed?”

“Hmm,” Geralt mused falsely. “Didn’t know there was anything straight about you,” he snarked and was met with a playful slap on the breast accompanied by Jaskier’s cackling laughter.

“Oh, look who’s talking now!”

They fumbled to get Jaskier back on his feet - “well I do love to spend time on my knees” - and got rid of the jeans which were annoyingly getting in their way, to then move on to the bedroom.

-

His bedroom, Jaskier decided, was absolutely ruined . Nothing would ever look better than Geralt sprawled on his bed, naked, his hard cock pressed against his lower belly. If Geralt ever decided to break things off with him - a thought which, despite people often calling him dramatic, he knew was perfectly realistic - Jaskier would have to change the room entirely. He would repaint the walls, get new furniture, burn the bed, maybe, or - to simplify - move places. No, there was no way a single soul could ever sleep on sheets which had touched Geralt’s skin without missing his presence like any respectable bard would miss their medieval lute.

At that moment, however, this bard was straddling Geralt’s lap, his arms around Geralt’s neck, while being held around his middle and kissed languorously. They were both naked, every inch of skin yearning to feel the other, and not a single thing was amiss.

“Would you like to touch yourself for me, darling?” Jaskier asked between two kisses, his voice low and syrupy.

A groan came from the bottom of Geralt’s throat and vibrated against Jaskier’s tongue.

“Fuck, I love the noises you make,” he whispered against Geralt’s lips, catching the man’s tongue in another open-mouth kiss.

Geralt started stroking his own cock and howled, and Jaskier broke the kiss unintentionally, unable to stop smiling at the sheer bestiality of the man.

Jaskier smacked his lips against Geralt’s a few more times as Geralt chased his mouth for more. Curving his hand around Geralt’s cheek, he kissed him one more time before slipping his thumb on his lips. He didn’t expect Geralt to kiss his finger, chastely, then lick its tip and lustfully take it in his mouth. Jaskier didn’t sigh as much as he whined .

“Would you prepare yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, making his intentions clearer, his voice a bit hesitant but hopeful.

Geralt let go of his thumb, letting Jaskier caress his lips lovingly. “Maybe it’s better if you do it,” he said, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s palm in an obvious attempt to hide his face.

“Is it?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt closed his eyes, something like regret written on his face.

“I’m not very good at it,” he grimaced.

“You’ve done it before?”

Geralt hummed, uncomfortable. “Since last time,” he clarified. “It didn’t really- I don’t know, maybe it’s not my thing,” he shrugged, still avoiding Jaskier’s eyes.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered, his voice coated with kindness, unable to stop himself as he tipped Geralt’s chin up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. “You can’t become a virtuoso on the first try,” he said.

Geralt frowned but then hid his discomfort behind a playful look. “Are you saying my ass is a musical instrument-”

“Shush, you!” Jaskier giggled. “I’m trying to be serious, for once!” he chastised him.

Geralt snickered and hid his face back into Jaskier’s hand, softly kissing his wrist.

“Maybe you had one of the best orgasms of your life the first time you rubbed one out but we , regular human beings, had to work for it,” he paused for more dramatic flair. “L ong and hard and again and again …” he wiggled his eyebrows and Geralt snorted. “We learn what feels good and what doesn’t. Just because you’re ol-” Geralt gave him a pointed look “ -der doesn’t mean you don’t need to get to know yourself.”

“Nice save,” Geralt deadpanned.

“I know, right? Almost seamless,” Jaskier smiled back, clearly full of shit, and went in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed. “I think I’d rather-” he hesitated, “get on with it, you know.”

“Get on with it?” It was Jaskier’s turn to raise an unconvinced eyebrow.

“Yeah, just get it done.”

“My, what a romantic you are,” Jaskier snickered and Geralt rolled his eyes, trying to make amends by rubbing Jaskier’s skin with his thumb where his hand rested on his hip.

“You just said it, first times suck. I just gotta- get through it and then, well. Hopefully, we get to the good stuff.”

“G- get through it ? You know this isn’t CrossFit, right?”

Geralt snorted. “You know what I mean,” Geralt said, then bit his lip as he frowned, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s. “You know I’m not-,” he waved his hand, “good at this.”

“Words?”

He puffed. “Yeah, words.”

“Yeah, I got that. I hear you.” Jaskier smoothly brushed a strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear. “There’s something else I heard. ‘First times suck’ ? Well challenge accepted, my dear,” he said and Geralt laughed as he kissed him again.

Geralt let himself be slowly pushed down to the bed as they kissed, his hands moving up Jaskier’s back, feeling the muscles along the way. His hand reached the back of Jaskier’s neck, covering it for a moment before he buried his fingers into the man’s hair as they softly ground against each other.

Jaskier slid his hand between them, giving both of their cocks a pull before moving lower. “Raise your legs for me, darling?” he asked in low tones, sliding his hands under Geralt’s knees. He could feel Geralt slightly tensing up as he set his feet to the mattress. It didn’t feel like it had anything to do with the scar Jaskier had brushed with his fingertips.

“Shouldn’t I be on my hands and knees?” he asked in a breath while Jaskier’s hands found their way back to his chest.

“You could,” he kissed a spot on his jaw, caressing Geralt’s pectoral. “You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier?” his voice was fairly tight and Jaskier faintly wondered if it was any clue to the state of his ass- and then kept the thought very much to his stupid dick-jokes self.

“Nah, not necessarily,” he whispered, trying to make his hands into a calming, solid presence against Geralt’s skin, caressing his breasts, his ribs, his clavicles, lining his scars with the care they deserved. Whichever God carved this man’s body, Jaskier swore to worship them until the end of his days.

“It can be straining to hold that position. Also…” Jaskier raised himself to face Geralt, picking up the man’s hand as it slipped over his shoulder and kissed the root of each finger. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said. “We don’t have to do it today.” He weaved his fingers between Geralt’s and kissed their tips. “And we don’t have to do it ever.”

Geralt’s face became closed off as he took a slow breath in, bolting up the gates before Jaskier had a chance to read him. He raised to meet Jaskier, his hand finding the perfect place at the back of his neck, and kissed him earnestly.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said against his lips.

“Yeah?” Jaskier gasped. “Got you, loud and clear,” Jaskier whispered and leaned into another kiss.

He broke away from Geralt to reach his nightstand drawer, pulling out some lube and condoms. He grabbed a pillow, invited Geralt to raise his hips and slid it underneath.

“Now, where was I?” he said under his breath, settling between Geralt’s legs and rubbing their bodies against each other. Geralt moaned and wrapped a leg around Jaskier’s pelvis, grinding back eagerly.

Holding his thigh with one hand, Jaskier began kissing his neck, licking and biting the skin at his throat, intending to take care of every inch of Geralt’s body. He licked one of Geralt’s nipples, extracting a moan from Geralt when he sucked and scraped his teeth against the strong muscle of his tit. Feeling Geralt slowly relax under his hands, he headed lower, kissing the pale hairy line that led from his navel to his cock.

He squeezed Geralt’s cock gently, carefully caressing the tip with his thumb and watching the precome spread, shiny against the soft skin. He looked up at Geralt as he moved his hand steadily up and down, a spark of ecstasy jumping from his heart to his cock at the sight of Geralt, eyes closed, biting his lower lip. Every moment assured Jaskier that pleasuring this man was actually his entire life’s purpose.

Geralt hummed with pleasure as Jaskier wrapped his lips around his cock, already struggling not to buck his hips when Jaskier took more of him in his mouth.

Jaskier couldn’t help but hum around his dick as he took it in, playing with depth and rhythm like a true maestro, his fingers threading through the light grey curls of Geralt’s pubes. He then let go of Geralt’s cock with an obscene pop that made him laugh and licked up from the spot right above Geralt’s balls.

Geralt’s hips stirred in both pleasure and surprise.

Jaskier got his hands back on the lube as he kissed and licked the man’s balls, encouraged by the whines and groans that escaped Geralt’s throat. He warmed his lubed fingers against each other and caressed Geralt’s ass with what he wouldn’t deny was absolute adoration. “Can I touch you, darling?” he asked, his voice a bit rough.

Geralt breathed a “yeah” and sounded almost like he was begging but Jaskier gracefully didn’t comment on it. (He, however, definitely took note.) Instead, he slid a hand between Geralt’s cheeks and brushed a finger against his hole as his mouth drove back down Geralt’s beautifully thick cock.

Jaskier teased a little, trying out different pressures against the man’s hole before the song of Geralt’s moans left no room for doubt. He slid his forefinger in while his other hand caressed Geralt’s inner thigh and finally felt the heat of Geralt’s body wrapped around his finger. He pulled back slightly and pushed again, this time steadily driving his finger deeper, synching his hand with the movements of his neck.

Despite Geralt’s frequent struggles with words, his gasps and moans were graced with great clarity and proved sufficient to let Jaskier know he was right to keep going. As far as non-verbal cues go, he also quickly found delight in feeling the walls of Geralt’s ass tightening around him and the taste of more precome coating his tongue.

“ Ah , your mouth,” Geralt moaned, reaching out and grasping onto Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier closed his eyes and moaned, aching for better friction than the bit of sheet he could rub his cock against. Grabbing the lube with one hand, he couldn’t help but jerk himself a couple of times as Geralt’s hand kept pulling his hair with each bop of his head.

Pointedly slowing down and looking up, he waited for Geralt’s attention to focus on him. He made a point of keeping their eyes locked as he shamelessly pulled up and let go of his cock. “D’you want another finger, honey?” he asked, perfectly aware of how depraved he had to look with his hair astray and his lips as probably as crimson as the tip of Geralt’s cock.

Geralt pulled him closer and met him with a crushing kiss as he nodded and moaned against Jaskier’s brow. “Hm- wait,” he breathed, holding Jaskier back as he started to let go, “I haven’t touched you at all,” he complained, his hands cupping Jaskier’s ass in a kind but firm grasp.

“Ah- It’s alright, love,” Jaskier said. “We’ve got time for that,” he smiled against Geralt’s lips but before he could leave again, Geralt grabbed his hand.

“I want you to feel as good as I do,” he breathed.

“Oh, trust me, darling, I’m feeling fantastic,” Jaskier grinned. They kissed one more time before Geralt let go of him and Jaskier drove his attention back to his lover’s lower body.

Geralt sighed as he settled his head back against his pillow, muttering something about how Jaskier was going to kill him.

Jaskier brought one hand at the base of Geralt’s cock, put his mouth back to work and fingered him a little while longer before adding another slick finger. Geralt whined and Jaskier reached out for his hand, threading their fingers together, hoping Geralt would know it was his way of checking in before Geralt sighed “ Yeah, s’good ,” in a tone that sounded pretty far gone.

He fucked Geralt with his fingers a few tentative times and curled them softly on the way out. In case he had any doubt his fingers were brushing against the right spot, Geralt’s hips jerked, driving his cock further down Jaskier’s throat.

“Ah, fuck ,” Geralt moaned. “Fuck, sorry,” slipped from his lips as if he was holding back so many more words.

Jaskier squeezed his hand in reassurance and kept sucking on Geralt’s dick until he could feel him tremble. He rubbed against Geralt’s prostate, drinking in every noise leaving the man’s lips, every movement revealing his pleasure.

“Ah, Jask,” Geralt moaned again, clutching to Jaskier’s hand like nothing would ever be able to make him let go. “Jas- Jaskier, ah , Jask, wait, I’m gonna-”

His hips buckled and his back raised from the mattress as he came, mouth open, gasping. He moaned and groaned as Jaskier kept fucking him onto his fingers until he was done spilling.

Jaskier slid his fingers out of Geralt’s ass, unable not to pull on his own cock even as he wiped off his mouth and tried to catch his breath, resting his forehead against the soft flesh of Geralt’s hip.

“Fuck,” Geralt whispered as he stretched, the last tingles of pleasure leaving his body. He brought his hands to his face, covering his blush and groaned “ fuck ” in a wholly different tone.

“Hey,” Jaskier gasped, slowing down the movements of his wrist and bringing his other hand to touch Geralt’s arm. “Hey, you alright?”

“Hmm,” he groaned from under his hands.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked and Geralt huffed.

“I just came like a teenager, darling ,” Geralt mumbled, the edge of his sarcasm largely smoothed out by post-coital bliss.

Jaskier chuckled. “No, you didn’t. You held up really well,” he said, caressing Geralt’s forearm. “My charms were simply too mighty for you to keep it in any longer,” he whispered, and kissed his other wrist and hand, hoping Geralt would emerge from his hiding place.

Geralt groaned again, unconvinced, but let his hand slip away when Jaskier kissed his knuckles, allowing the other man to paint his cheek with the sweet brush of his lips.

“I wanted you,” Geralt whispered, in a weak, almost plaintive way.

“I’m still right here, love,” Jaskier whispered back. “You still have me,” he said at the corner of Geralt’s lips, pressing his mouth softly against his. He found Geralt pressing back with the same tenderness then savouring the taste his own come on Jaskier’s tongue.

They stayed like this for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s arms, slowly kissing and holding each other.

“Do you need me?” Geralt asked after Jaskier buckled against his hips involuntarily.

“If your schedule allows it,” Jaskier joked, hiding his face in his neck and humming as he rubbed himself against Geralt.

“What do you want?” Geralt asked, caressing the length of Jaskier’s back, pressing his fingers along the muscles, waking up every fibre of Jaskier’s body.

“This,” Jaskier murmured, “This is perfect.”

He rubbed himself slowly against Geralt as the man covered him in caresses, the callousness of Geralt’s hands contrasting with the softness of his gestures. He ground against Geralt’s hip lazily, welcoming the pressure of Geralt’s hands on his ass, feeling the imprint of each finger into his flesh. His cock was still smeared with lube and the mess he’d spit onto Geralt’s pelvis made for a dirty, wonderful help.

“You look so good like this,” Geralt whispered, kissing a spot under his ear. “You feel so good against me,” he said softly, his tenderness almost making Jaskier come on the spot.

“ Ah , please, touch me,” he begged and Geralt reached for his cock like a servant knight, enthusiastically escorting him to rapture as Jaskier fucked into his hand again and again and again , his shout resonating through the bedroom as he came.

Geralt held him as Jaskier made his way back down, their bodies sweaty and well spent, comfortably intertwined.

After a while during which Jaskier’s mind drifted and fluttered between sleep and consciousness, he adjusted his body to kiss the side of Geralt’s jaw.

“Care to be introduced to my shower?” he asked sleepily.

“Hmm. Good call,” Geralt nodded, and pressed a kiss against his temple.

-

When Geralt walked out of the shower, freshly cleaned up and smelling like Jaskier’s lemon soap, his clothes were neatly arranged on the bed. He got dressed and followed the sound of Jaskier’s humming, finding him in the kitchen frowning at some delivery menus. He was biting his lip, seeming pretty conflicted and Geralt surprised himself thinking: shit, he’s cute.

He kept expecting to have a change of heart any minute now. It was, after all, bound to happen, the next logical step, the most probable outcome: one morning he would wake up and realise that surely this had all been fun but he wasn’t into it anymore. He just had gotten a bit confused and wasn’t actually feeling so much for this man- or any other man, or any other person for that matter.

After splitting up with Yen, he thought he’d never grow fond of someone enough to want anything (at least anything more than sex, but even sex was quite low on his list of priorities). With Jaskier, though- it was like every other day, Geralt would find another thing he’d like to share with the handsome man who had run into him and insisted on sticking around.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, noticing him in the doorway. “So I was thinking, either Casa Lauretta or Athumani’s Kitchen , what do you think? And before you say anything- I know , take out again, but I can’t both try to seduce you and subject you to my cooking.”

Geralt snorted. “You’ve had me in your bed already. Twice. ” he said, raising a playful eyebrow. “At what point will you consider me successfully seduced?”

“Uh, I don’t know, some time between the third dog and the second honeymoon, I guess?” Jaskier pretended to ponder.

Geralt blinked at him and his smile froze on his face. He often struggled with words to begin with but Jaskier mastered the art of leaving him speechless. Banter was his realm. Jaskier knew the terrain by heart and he revelled in it. He was light on his feet and quick on his toes. Every time Geralt tried to play his game and stepped towards Jaskier, the distance separating them seemed to grow.

He felt like a novice trying to catch up with a man who had hiked the trail his whole life, knew its twists and turns by heart. No matter how much he tried to relax and enjoy the sights by Jaskier’s side, he still felt the man would always be ahead of him. Like he would never be able to catch up and stay stuck in the land of the new and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. “What’s in these cupboards of yours?“ he asked, brushing past Jaskier to open a few of them. At first, the answer seemed to be both everything and not much at all . But after initial confusion, he realised Jaskier might actually have a system.

Items weren’t sorted by kind but rather by what goes well together: canned mushrooms next to rice, coconut milk next to curry powder, sliced bread between jam and mustard. He wasn’t sure why "365 Lesser-known Eastern Medieval Poems” was stacked with cereals, or why Jaskier’s watch was in a bowl, but he could find out with time.

Something tickled the back of his neck and he realised Jaskier was playing with his hair, a bit of a smitten look on his face. As Geralt looked at him, Jaskier froze and blushed.

“Sorry,” he said, retreating his hand. “I love your hair,” he said sheepishly.

“I lost my hairband somewhere,” Geralt said, looking around.

“It looks good like this too,” Jaskier said. “Pretty sure it looks good all the time,” he smiled and brushed an escapee strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear.

And here it was: another immensely confusing thing about Jaskier. The man radiated self-confidence 99% of the time. He could bathe in the attention of a crowd, flirt shamelessly with a complete stranger and whisper the filthiest words, dirtiest things- he could fantasize out loud about getting married to a man he’d only known for a few weeks. Yet there was also a shyness about the smallest of things, a vulnerability . It made Geralt want to pick him up and take him to safety- and he was perfectly aware of how ridiculous that sounded. But it felt like maybe, Jaskier’s hidden, more reserved side was a path where they could meet halfway.

He leaned towards him and kissed the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

Jaskier smiled and his whole face illuminated. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good,” Geralt nodded, taking his attention back to the cupboard. And so here he was again, taking a step back on what had started to feel like a comfortable route and stiffly navigating in between the metaphorical potholes on the road leading to Jaskier. As it turned out, talking about how his ass felt after getting fingered was not Geralt’s forte either. But Jaskier - in a moment of extreme humility - had described himself as a master of words and rhythm and that’s exactly what he was. He could use any word, touch upon any topic, express any emotion. Jaskier had a whole planisphere at his disposal, a means to take any road; Geralt had shitty directions and a compass that only told North once in a blue moon.

“No pain?”

“No,” he answered, closed the cupboard and exited Jaskier’s personal space to grab the menus. “Maybe delivery’s better, you’re right,” he said.

“Hmm,” Jaskier answered. “You do that a lot,” he pointed out.

Geralt gave him a look above his shoulder. “What?”

“Changing topics. Avoiding conversations,” Jaskier explained lightly. His tone was not judgemental. He was merely making an observation.

And so, “I’m not,” Geralt lied. He only realised he had lied the second he heard himself. Fuck . “I didn’t realise there was more to say.” Less of a lie. Not quite a half-truth.

Jaskier sighed softly and settled next to Geralt, pressing his forearms against the kitchen counter. "Margherita, then?” he asked. Geralt could see the tight shape of his lips and the square angle of his shoulders. Jaskier had obviously seen right through him but was dropping the subject for his sake.

“You’re disappointed,” he said and Jaskier’s head shot back up to look at him.

“With the pizza options?” Jaskier joked weakly.

“With,” he hesitated. “Me.”

“No-” Jaskier argued right away, raising his hand to cut him off. But Geralt knew how it was, what people expected, not unfairly, versus how little he could offer.

“It’s fine,” Geralt said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I-,” he paused to weigh his words carefully, eyes focused on the menus. "I’m not very good at-” he hesitated then snorted under Jaskier’s confused look. “ Opening up ?” he said, raising an eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction.

Jaskier laughed and reached out to rest his hand over Geralt’s. “Well, we’ve talked about this,” he said, with a shine in his eyes. “Practice makes better.” Geralt hummed, looking at Jaskier’s hand over his. To his surprise, Jaskier retracted his hand somewhat suddenly and he missed the weight of it right away. “And it’s not like we know each other that well, as you said,” he shrugged, at the edge of Geralt’s field of vision.

“I am ok,” he said, answering Jaskier’s previous question more honestly. “Bit weird but ok.” His brain then caught up with Jaskier’s words a moment too late; as you said ?

"Okay,” Jaskier said, offering a shy smile. “I- it’s okay if it doesn’t come naturally to you. I just- well, I’d just like you to be more comfortable with me. But we’ll get there, right?”

Geralt swallowed, closing and opening the hand that was resting on the counter to get rid of a slight tremor. Saying yes would have been another lie. He couldn’t make that promise. He had tried before, thought that maybe if he forced himself to be enough then things would work out eventually- but they hadn’t.

And so it would have been easy to say no , to back off entirely. He could tell Jaskier he wasn’t interested in building something, just wanted an easy fuck, to experiment a bit, and had simply gotten lucky enough to find a guy who wasn’t repelled by his shitty personality and off-putting scars. It would have been so easy- to tell Jaskier, “I don’t know what you thought you were getting out of this, but you won’t get me .” It was complete and absolute bullshit, a sad pack of lies, but it would be so much easier. He could get back to his life, his job, his kid and the handful of friends he still had, and never think about blue eyes or milkshakes again.

If only the thought didn’t make him nauseous.

Fuck, he wanted this.

“This isn’t casual for you, is it?” he asked, voice tight, and Jaskier startled, almost taking a step back. His face made an odd succession of expressions and he opened his mouth a couple of times before closing it again.

“I- I can be casual. I can be very casual. That’s not a problem, that’s not a- but I-,” he sighed and brushed his hand through his hair nervously. “Fuck, you really don’t fuck around, do you?” Geralt tried to come up with something to say but Jaskier shook his head, his voice way calmer now even if a bit wavering. “No. No, I don’t think I want to be casual with you. And- And you- you don’t w-”

“Me neither,” Geralt cut in before panic took over Jaskier.

The man’s eyes grew a little wider. “You neither?” he asked, and fuck if that wasn’t the most obvious display of naked hope Geralt had ever seen on anybody’s face.

Geralt shook his head and Jaskier seemingly had to fight a full-body shiver.

Jaskier walked the two steps separating them and kissed Geralt with his entire soul. When he pulled back, Geralt leaned into him again for another taste of his tongue. He brought a hand to Jaskier’s cheek and kissed him with feeling. When they parted, he kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s, the tip of his fingers grazing the short hair behind his ear.

“I’m not used to wanting…” Geralt said. “Sex is good. But usually I don’t- I don’t want more. With you, I- I don’t want to ru- to leave . And it’s…”

“Weird, isn’t it?” Jaskier offered, his voice tight but tone playful. The shy smile on his lips was a delicious cherry on top, making the teasing even softer. (Little did Jaskier know that a cherry was the only thing in Geralt’s opinion that could ever improve a creamy vanilla milkshake.)

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier kissed him, and after working through so many words, Geralt ran out of things to say. “So, yeah. Margherita’s good,” he whispered, and it was his turn to make Jaskier laugh. The man cleared his throat and sighed like a weight had been taken off his chest.

“I can’t believe you said all that before even knowing Lauretta delivers vanilla milkshakes,” he said and Geralt poked him in the ribs until they half-wrestled, laughing, Jaskier’s back hitting the fridge- and they were kissing again.

-

They talked over dinner for a while. Jaskier came up with questions for Geralt to answer, helping him ease into a casual conversation. They teased and flirted and laughed, and soon ended up in bed again, tasting each other’s skin and leaning into each other’s curves.

“Full disclosure?” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s mouth as he was straddling him. “I really fucking love those tits of yours,” he said, cupping Geralt’s chest with his two hands. Geralt scoffed in between two kisses.

“They’re called pecs,” he said, enjoying the way Jaskier’s hands were basically venerating his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Jaskier replied, “I, good sir, am an artist, not an anatomist, and these are definitely some of the most magnificent boobies I have ever had the chance to see, touch and lick,” he said, brushing a nipple with his thumb while kissing Geralt’s jaw.

Geralt snorted and kept caressing Jaskier’s incredibly precious ass.

Jaskier sighed with contentment. “So, tell me your secret,” he mumbled against Geralt’s skin, finding a tendon in Geralt’s neck and following it with his lips, tongue and teeth. “How does a corporate lawyer get as buff as you?”

Geralt’s laugh was more of a scoff as he felt the more-or-less accidental brush of Jaskier’s cock against his.

“You’re one to talk,” he groaned, getting his hand into Jaskier’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. “Have you seen yourself, Professor?”

Jaskier suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “I- well- I mean I’m nothing close to- Your body is,” he huffed, seemingly at loss for words which was a very odd thing coming from Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, bringing his hand to the small of the man’s back, and squinted. “You know you’re hot, right?” he asked seriously and witnessed Jaskier dissolve into a fit of giggles, ducking his head and blushing even harder.

“I’m- nah, I’m not-”

“ Jaskier ,” Geralt repeated with intent.

“I mean, I’m fine but I’m not- you’re like a, a- an underwear supermodel.”

Geralt snorted. “Right, they do love bodies covered with scar tissue in underwear magazines,” he said self-deprecatingly, making Jaskier frown.

“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he chastised.

“If you say so-” Geralt shrugged.

“I do say so. Les Dessous de Beauclair can go fuck itself,” Jaskier replied and Geralt snorted again.

“Point still stands,” Geralt said. “You’re hot.”

Jaskier looked away again, biting his lower lip. “Wh-,” he started and then closed his mouth right away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Jaskier? I’m the one who isn’t much of a talker. There can’t be two of us,” he said, and Jaskier laughed, then hid his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s shoulders.

“What do you like about me?” he asked, his voice so small Geralt barely heard him. He let a moment pass, wondering where to start and how. He slid a hand at the back of Jaskier’s neck, caressing the short strands of hair.

“This,” he said. “Your hair right here. It’s short but long enough that I can grab it,” he felt Jaskier smile against his neck.

” Kinky ,“ Jaskier whispered.

“And I like your eyes,” Geralt said, too focused on picking the right words to get sidetracked. “At the bar, I-” he hesitated, pacing himself. “I noticed your eyes first,” he said and swallowed.

Jaskier hugged him tighter. “I love your eyes too,” he mumbled into Geralt’s hair. "They’re incredible.”

Geralt managed to duck his head and press a soft kiss below Jaskier’s ear. “Your cheekbones,” he said, his mouth finding the sweet spot at the base of Jaskier’s neck. “Your shoulders,” he whispered, kissing Jaskier’s clavicle, loosening their embrace to keep going lower. “Your collarbones,” he nipped his teeth at the bone above Jaskier’s chest, “they’re really, really hot,” he said and Jaskier giggled, still hiding his face by pressing his forehead against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt brought his hands up Jaskier’s back and felt him shiver, Jaskier’s hips startling gently against his, bringing a soft moan from the both of them. “Your back,” he said, “I really love your back- and your ass, gods ,” he linked his hands behind Jaskier’s neck and rolled his hips, their moans echoing through the room. “ Ah , and those fucking arms of yours,” Geralt whispered. “Have you seen those arms?” he repeated, still softly rubbing their cocks together with slow movements of his hips and caressing Jaskier’s arm. “I’m sure you could lift me up with those arms,” he said and Jaskier groaned. “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you- would you like to hold me up and fuck me?”

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moaned, his face pressed against Geralt’s cheek. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes please, yes,” he begged, and Geralt grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and pulled just enough for Jaskier to whine with pleasure as they both rushed in an almost bruising kiss.

Jaskier had a hard time pulling away from Geralt, but finally managed to turn towards the bedside table to retrieve lube and condoms.

Geralt flushed himself against his back, tearing a moan from Jaskier as his hand directly went for Jaskier’s cock and Geralt’s dick rubbed against his ass.

“Oh fuck, yeah- yeah , we gotta do this some time too, darling,” he panted and Geralt groaned, grinding against him.

“You would like that?” he breathed, his voice low and coated with desire.

“Gods, I’d fuck you anyway you want, darling-” he moaned, “-but fffuck , if you keep going, there isn’t going to be much left of me.”

Geralt chuckled against him. He pulled back, freeing Jaskier from his embrace and sitting back against the wall.

Jaskier kneeled in between his legs and tore the package open, sliding the condom on his cock, realising after raising his eyes that he was under Geralt’s scrutiny.

“You okay?” he asked at the exact moment Geralt breathed “Come here.”

Somehow they crashed into each other, and yet fit each other’s shapes perfectly.

Geralt raised on his knees, thighs parted, Jaskier’s hands moving from his cock to his balls, making his hips jerk and his teeth close on Jaskier’s lower lip as he moaned. Jaskier slid his fingers further, caressing the sweet spot of Geralt’s perineum, making Geralt break the kiss as he gasped.

“Fuck, please, Jask-”

“I’ve got you,” Jaskier murmured, kissing him again and coating his fingers with lube.

Geralt tried his hardest not to jerk himself off here and now, attempting to focus on rubbing Jaskier’s cock while his other arm rested around the man’s neck.

Jaskier teased the rim of his asshole and got a quick return on his investment as Geralt pulled a little harder on his dick, tearing a moan from his lips. He chuckled a bit breathlessly and slid a finger inside Geralt easily. It didn’t take long at all before a second finger joined the first.

“You okay, darling?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt nodded against his cheek.

For a while, they stayed like this, settled against each other, Jaskier slowly fingering him until Geralt couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers and asking for more.

When three fingers curved into him and caressed his prostate, Geralt thought he was going to come undone. “Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaskier-,”

“Good?” Jaskier asked a bit worriedly.

“Fuck, yes , good,” Geralt bit in a tone that was halfway between “how the fuck could it be anything but good” and “don’t you fucking dare stop” , making Jaskier laugh again.

“Okay, darling- still love the enthusiasm,” Jaskier said while Geralt whined and begged until finally, fucking finally, Jaskier agreed he was ready. Jaskier slid between his thighs, his strong, well-built arms around Geralt’s middle and Geralt realised it was probably the first time he had been held like this in his entire life.

“Touch yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, his mouth against Geralt’s before Geralt shook his head.

“Can’t- gonna come if I do,” he breathed and Jaskier kissed him again.

“Please?” he asked. “I want to make sure it feels good,” he whispered, holding onto Geralt’s middle tighter.

Geralt complied and before long Jaskier’s hips were rising to meet his body. He felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock slide between his buttcheeks and touch the soft of his ass and he startled, pulling away and pressing back against Jaskier just as fast.

“Fuck,” he swore as Jaskier whined. “Please, Jask,” he moaned as the hand on his cock started shaking. He then felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock against him again, and the steady push of Jaskier’s hips as the head of Jaskier’s cock entered him. He whined as Jaskier pushed further and lowered himself as slow as he could with the lone strength of his thighs and Jaskier’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Ok?” Jaskier asked breathlessly. A gasp was all Geralt managed. His thoughts were an endless thread of fuck fuck fuck he couldn’t sort out in any order. “Yea- ah,” he broke, “ fuck ,”

“Is it too much?” Jaskier asked, “I can- I can stop, do you need me to stop?”

“ Don’t ,” Geralt moaned, clenching every single muscle in his body to keep Jaskier against him and eliciting a cry from Jaskier. His arms were around Jaskier’s shoulders, his forehead against the man’s temple. Geralt was holding onto him with everything he got.

“I just-” he tried to take a slow long breath thinking about everything he had learned through meditation and managed one ragged breath. “You’re a lot,” he managed in a sigh, clenching around Jaskier despite how much he tried to relax.

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat half-way between pleasure and laughter. “I get that all the time,” he said cheekily.

“Don’t- don’t make me laugh,” he said, chuckling breathlessly, and Jaskier joined him, both trying to breathe through the involuntary clenching of Geralt’s inner muscles and the accidental movements of Jaskier’s hips.

They laughed into each other’s mouths as they kissed, mouth open, tongues licking each other’s lips, teeth biting softly, teasingly. When they were both ready, Jaskier pulled himself down as he helped Geralt raise on his knees and they met again, moaning and groaning.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered again and by then, Geralt had no fucking idea. He had never felt so tense and relaxed at once, uncomfortable but so fucking fantastic. His nerves and his ass were on absolute fire but it was good, it was good, it was so, so-

“So good,” he growled, aware that every part of his body was probably shaking in Jaskier’s arms. “ Ah , don’t stop,” he moaned, and Jaskier, incredible, astonishing, wonderful Jaskier did not stop .

Their hips moved in sync, feeding Geralt with the kind of friction he had never imagined could feel so good.

He let himself relax entirely into Jaskier’s embrace, sliding against the whole length of Jaskier’s body, pressing torso against torso, his forehead against Jaskier’s sweaty fringe, their noises brushing, their mouths breathing the same air.

“Ye-ah?” Jaskier moaned. “You like it? You really- ah , fuck- you- ah , you feel so good, does it feel good, tell me-” he rambled, far, so far from actually needing the reassurance.

Geralt groaned. “ Yes ,” he whined, “I like it, I like it, I like you , please,” and Jaskier whined and then did something- Geralt didn’t know, something, somehow, maybe went harder or faster or different, but he pulled and pushed and Geralt lost his fucking mind. He did it again and again, kissing Geralt, licking his neck, biting on his earlobe, caressing his nipples, bruising his hips in his grasp, pulling on his cock, whispering into his ear and making him whine and moan and shout until Geralt begged to be undone.

“I’ve got you, love,” Jaskier said, “I’ve got you.” Jaskier pulled harder on his hips in a half-broken groan, making Geralt slip towards him a little more.

Geralt arched his back, moaning in delight from the new angle. His neck was left exposed for Jaskier to kiss and lick, and breathe against Geralt’s skin. Every cell in Geralt’s body was burning and electric, and boiling. Everything felt so good and so much and so Jaskier , so he begged, begged again, and again for Jaskier to hold him and kiss him and fill him as he came, and so he did. He came, held, and kissed, and filled, and perfect, and Jaskier came, too, gasping into his mouth as they fell into each other.

For a moment, there was no other sound apart from the unsteady breathing and an occasional moan from the two of them as they slowly, comfortably, came back down to earth. Jaskier moved first, turning his head to kiss Geralt’s cheek, pushing his long white hair away from his face, and Geralt turned his head lazily towards him, leaning into a kiss.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered, probably for the hundredth time and Geralt, for the thousandth time, hummed and nodded. Soon they would detach from each other, groaning from the discomfort of their sensible muscles, their come-dirtied bellies and lube-stained sheets anything but glamorous.

But for the time being, they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders, eyes closed, content with the feeling of holding and being held.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered.

Geralt hummed questioningly.

“Stay for breakfast?” Jaskier asked. He missed the soft smile that drew on Geralt’s lips.

Geralt stepped into the bedroom and Jaskier’s jaw landed on the floor. 

His white hair was loose; a faint blush tinged his cheeks. Around his throat, a thin strap of leather held two inches of whispy black silk Chantilly lace. The lace and leather criss-crossed down his hard torso, to the garter belt sitting just above his hips, accentuating the sharp muscle that always drew one’s eye lower, in this case to the sheer lace thong doing absolutely nothing to hide his cock. The garters held up long, back-seamed stockings tucked into his sturdy leather boots, cementing the study of contrasts: hard and soft, rough and smooth.

“You look pretty,” Jaskier told him. 

Geralt’s blush deepened even further as Yennefer got up from the bed and strode toward him, her black silk robe trailing behind her, to examine him. She circled him slowly, predatorily, arching an eyebrow at the way his rounded ass peeked out, bare, from the laces. She couldn’t help but give it a sharp slap.

Geralt sucked in a breath. Yennefer grasped his strong jaw in her hand, looking up into his eyes, somehow, as though she towered over him.

“Very pretty indeed, Geralt.”

Jaskier straightened, staring at the redness of Geralt’s lips, the softness of his eyes. He stepped toward him, his eyes devouring every inch of him.

“We should dress you up like this more often,” he said, licking his lips.

Geralt smirked at the effect he was having, then felt the hard slap of Yennefer’s hand on his ass once more. His head whirled to her. She grasped one of the leather straps snaking down his torso.

“If you’re going to be a brat you can do it from your knees.”

Geralt looked her directly in the eyes as he slowly sank down, so obedient, yet the smirk still dancing across his insouciant lips.

“If I had a cock I’d slap you with it,” she told him with a sweet smile, pressing her thumb into his mouth. He sucked at it greedily, bringing his hands to her hips. She batted them away.

“Hands behind your back. Jaskier, would you like to go first tonight?”

“Oh no, I insist. Ladies first.”

“How thoughtful, for a change,” Yennefer said, leaning over Geralt’s shoulder to kiss Jaskier softly. Jaskier deepened the kiss, greedily, as usual, tucking Yenn’s body into his tall frame easily, Geralt smooshed and forgotten between them.

Yenn moaned into Jaskier’s touch as his hand groped her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple. She grabbed Geralt by the hair and drew his head back, directing him to watch.

Finally Yenn broke the kiss and steadied herself with Geralt’s broad, bare shoulders, licking the taste of Jaskier on her lips, grinning at him. She lifted a bare foot from the floor and brought it to Geralt’s cock, feeling his arousal now cresting out of the silk lace. She knew he was so sensitive, just the merest touch would feel like fire. And this touch? She glanced at Geralt, an evil grin spreading across her face, then at Jaskier.

Geralt was flushed across his face and down his neck, his eyes dark with need.

“Geralt, get on the bed. And lounge properly, so we can see you like this.”

Smug, Geralt rose and actually sauntered to the bed, turning to show Jaskier his bare ass, then arched his back as he bent to get onto the bed before gliding over the sheets, lounging as requested.

Jaskier glanced at Yenn, a similar mischievous look in his eye. Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking? Yenn winked at him.

Geralt watched them, a sudden glint of fear on his face.

Yenn flounced to the bed and lay down beside Geralt, then raised up on her elbows to look at Jaskier as he approached her hungrily. He began at her feet, caressing and kissing up her legs.

“Show me,” he said calmly but directly, and Yenn’s breath hitched slightly as she obeyed, coyly parting her legs and showing Jaskier her already wet cunt. His hands swept up her thighs and he brushed a thumb to her, then, with a glint in her eye, Jaskier offered it to Geralt to taste.

Geralt’s eyes went wide and again, he sucked eagerly, groaning slightly into the taste of Yenn. 

“Filthy,” Jaskier told him lovingly.

Geralt leaned over to take care of Yenn, but was pressed back by Jaskier.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jaskier said teasingly. “You’re going to have to look, but don’t touch. Just as we’ll do to you, as pretty as you are.”

Geralt sat back, crestfallen, and could do nothing but watch as Jaskier softly kissed Yenn, then set to work pleasuring her. Jaskier could go a little too long, as far as Yenn was concerned, so he loved to savor this. She urged him on with a tug of his hair, and he got the message, dipping his tongue deep then flicking it back up and around her clit.

Yenn moaned openly and tilted her head to face Geralt. “Fuck, he’s so good, so fucking good at this– finally putting that tongue to good use.” 

Jaskier moaned and hummed against her, setting Yenn off again as she arched into him, desperate for more pressure.

“I want you to touch yourself,” she told Geralt. “Watch me while you touch yourself.” Geralt grunted and obeyed, bringing his hand to the tip of his cock escaping from the tiny, lacy thong.

“This is all the touching you’ll get tonight,” said Yenn. “So you’d better enjoy it. Is that what you want?”

Geralt choked out a moan but kept eye contact with her.

“Y-yes, fuck.”

“You’re so pretty, do you want us to use you like this?”

“Ye-yes,” Geralt choked out.

“You filthy thing,” she said, smiling adoringly at Geralt. “Fu–fuck. Jaskier, oh fuck Jaskier– you–”

Jaskier grasped her hips insistently and kept his pace as Yennefer arched into him, moaning his name loudly as she came. Jaskier held her tightly as she rode through her orgasm, giving her every second of her pleasure. He came to his knees with a grin, licking and wiping his face as he smiled down at her.

Yenn caught her breath and leaned over to kiss Geralt deeply. “We’ll see how you measure up later,” she whispered to him, glancing down at his cock.

Jaskier leaned up and kissed her deeply, too, moaning into her, softly rolling his clothed cock against her hips.

“Undress for us, darling,” Yenn said, slipping out of her soiled robe and snuggling into Geralt, wiggling her ass against his cock. They watched as Jaskier untied and slipped off his own quilted smoking robe, then the brightly-colored cheeky briefs he wore beneath it, bending in half to pull them right down to the floor. He made eye contact with Geralt as he slowly stood, showing off his lean muscles and aroused cock.

Yennefer sat up, delighted. “So handsome, my darling.” Jaskier came close to give her another kiss, before she asked: “Do you suppose he’s loose for us?” They turned and looked at Geralt, who felt the building heat nearly overflow within him.

“Were you a good boy, my dear?” Jaskier asked him, drawing close to Geralt’s body. He could feel the heat rise off the man as his eyes roamed him. “Part your legs and let me see.” Geralt blushed furiously as he opened his legs and held the lacy thong to the side so Jaskier could examine him.

Yenn knelt before Jaskier on the bed and took his hand. “Get him good and wet,” she said, pressing Jaskier’s fingers into her dripping cunt, then glancing back to watch Geralt, whose eyes were dark and wide as saucers. “Would you like that, Geralt?”

“Yes.”

“Be good and open up for Jaskier, now,” she said, laying back beside him, bringing his head to lay back against her bare chest, watching as Jaskier brushed a finger past the bristly hair to press against his asshole. He slipped a finger inside, straight to the knuckle, and brought it out, slick. Jaskier looked impressed.

“Smooth and slick and ready for me,” he told Geralt, “you’ve been good.” Geralt smiled at the praise and hummed a little bit.

“Jaskier,” Yenn beckoned. “Won’t you wet yourself, first?” She raised an eyebrow and spread her legs apart again. Jaskier came up between them and kissed Yennefer deeply, right over Geralt’s head.

“The ideas you come up with, my darling.” Jaskier eased back, grabbed Yenn’s legs behind the knees, and let Geralt watch as he slowly, slowly sank his cock into her. “Still so wet, so ready for me.”

“Fuck,” was all Yenn could manage. Jaskier slowly slid out, then lined up at Geralt’s hips.

“Are you ready, Geralt?” Yenn asked him, stroking his cheek with her hand. “You’ve been so good, do you want Jaskier to fuck you now?”

“Please– please, Yenn.”

“Such good manners,” she praised, then nodded to Jaskier, who roughly tugged the lace thong aside, making Geralt gasp, then slowly pressed inside Geralt, still slick with Yenn’s wetness.

Geralt moaned deeply, deliciously.

“Oh, do it again, my darling,” Yenn told him, watching Geralt closely. “How does he feel?”

“Fuck– so smooth, so hot, so tight,” Jaskier answered, slowly slowly thrusting into Geralt. Yennefer caressed down Geralt’s chest.

“My pretty Geralt, we’re going to use you now, is that what you want?”

“Fuck– please– please use me, more– harder–”

“You greedy thing,” Yenn said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Show me what else you can do with that filthy mouth of yours.”

She eased his head back down and promptly sat on his face, steadying herself on the head of the bed, facing Jaskier. Geralt moaned into her, slipping his tongue up and sucking and catching her wetness.

He was lost– he reached up and grasped her ass, pulling her closer, growling as he ate her out, his tongue gently exploring and flicking against her clit as he brushed a finger along her ass and dipped it down inside her.

Yenn moaned at the touch, shifting her hips against him with a: “FUCK.”

Jaskier thrust faster and faster, then shifted and pressed against Geralt’s prostate, brushing his cock against it with every thrust until Geralt was whimpering and moaning into Yenn, his leaking cock still half-caged in the lacy thong. Jaskier reached out to hold Yenn, tracing his hands up her torso and thumbing over her nipple as his lips found hers.

She moaned into Jaskier’s mouth as Geralt devoured her, coming hard against his tongue.

“Fuck, Geralt, oh my–,” Yenn said, and Jaskier held her steady, then let her catch her breath on the bed beside Geralt.

Jaskier leaned up and kissed Geralt, licking the wetness from his lips as Yenn laced her fingers in his white hair. 

“Are you ready to come, pretty thing?” Yenn asked him, her hands roaming his chest again. He was absolutely feral, couldn’t form a word, but nodded as he made mewling, begging sounds.

“Come for us, my dear,” Jaskier told him, grasping his cock with his hands and stroking twice before Geralt came apart, coming hard across his own chest with a grunting growl. He moaned and arched his back against Jaskier, his ass pumping against Jaskier’s cock, as Yenn held him safe. Jaskier kept thrusting until Yenn looked up at him and nodded once, then pulled out of Geralt and stroked his wet cock, coming across Geralt’s chest and cock, before settling to his side to catch his breath.

Yenn and Jaskier slowly stroked and held Geralt as he began to cry quietly, still catching his breath, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the evening. Jaskier laid sweet kisses along his jaw and throat as Yennefer kissed his temple and stroked the cum down his chest.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands,” those words echoed through Jaskier’s mind as he felt himself tear up as he tried to choke back the sobs. He sniffed and fidgetted,

“Yes, well I’ll… I’ll get the rest of the story from someone else,” Jaskier murmured back and gave one last look at Geralt before he was turning and walking away and down the path. Once out of sight, Jaskier felt his body wrack with sobs and he fell to his knees crying in loud choking sobs. He cried so hard he felt bile rise and he vomited onto the ground as his body wretched loudly.

How could this have happened? 22 years… 22 fucking years he spent following Geralt in the most dangerous of places. 22 years of singing the praises of a man who was so unlovable and yet he had tried to change the view of every single person on the continent. Granted, that didn’t always happen but he had noticed the changes over the years. People were less likely to kick Geralt out of town. Sometimes they came to him willingly with problems. Maybe not ones he could always fix but they sure came to him. All because Jaskier sang Geralt's praises.

What did Geralt do to thank him? He yelled at him and made Jaskier feel as if he was nothing but a burden on Geralt. First, the man had said he was a horrible traveling companion and now this? It was almost too much. At that thought, Jaskier stood and took a deep breath as he tried to tamp down any feelings of remorse. No, only anger would blaze within his heart now. Not after what Geralt had done. Oh no…

Geralt had heard the sobs and the retching but he didn’t move from his spot. It was too painful to have Jaskier near. He cared for the bard and had always done so, but it was better if they were separated. Witchers don’t make emotional connections. That was what he was taught and he had made one with Jaskier even if it was only friendship. Geralt cocked his head when he heard the retching stop and the sound of Jaskier stumbling to his feet as he sighed and sniffed up the last of his tears. That made Geralt relax slightly, ‘Good,’ he thought to himself. ‘Now he can move on from this,’ that was all what Geralt wanted of course. For Jaskier to move on and live a happy normal life. Not one full of heartache and pain. Not one where you didn’t know if you would eat or sleep in a comfy bed. Jaskier deserved oh so much more than a witcher’s life could give him.

~ ~ ~

A year had passed and Geralt had finally found Ciri. They were on their way to the broken down ruins of Kaer Morhen. It would have to do if Geralt was going to train Ciri to become just like him. She was young, and impressionable but also fierce and her scream seemed to wrack anyone within a mile radius. Thankfully, he had only experienced that scream once in the six months they had been together.

“Are we almost there yet?” Her trill of a voice rung out on the large gelding she rode next to Geralt who grunted lightly and looked towards her,

“Almost.” He said softly as he patted Roach gently on the nethers. “A week’s more ride. I got word to Vesemir and he will be there to meet us,” Geralt stated and Ciri groaned ever so loudly as she leaned against the black horse.

“A week? You know we would have made it a lot sooner if you would have just followed a straight and narrow path there. You keep weaving us in the forests and small back waters towns to kill imaginary beasts.”

“They aren’t always imaginary. I killed two werewolves and a griffin within the last month,” he said as he picked up the coin pouch and shook it at her lightly, “you wouldn’t be eating or have new clothes if it wasn’t for me killing,”

“You could do for some new clothes,” she replied snottily as she turned away from him and stiffened up. Geralt rolled his eyes again at her and kicked Roach closer before he grabbed her reins and pulled the gelding so they were face to face,

“Take notes. If you are to defeat Nilfgaard and come back as the rightful queen of Cintra you will be doing exactly what I am doing,” he hissed lightly, “you will become strong, your magic will be honed in and you will learn to control it much better. Cirilla you are a powerful and fierce little girl. You just lack the common skills. Calanthe can take most of that blame but we will right it, got it?” Ciri sneered and kicked to try and get away as she made a face at Geralt,

“Don’t take my grandmother’s name in vain you… you…” She didn’t know what to say so she huffed and turned away from Geralt who let go with a sigh.

“Don’t come crawling into my bedroll when you are freezing at night then,” though his words held no malice or truth. He actually loved having the small 13 year old curled against his chest and sometimes she would wrap her hand around his shirt or knot it in locks of silver for a bit of comfort as they slept and huddled close to keep warm. 13 was the age of marriage but Geralt did not see Ciri in that way at all. No, this was his adopted daughter almost.

She was young, and innocent and Geralt had 90 years on her. So, he would comfort the young teen and try to teach her the best that he could. Even if it was only for a little bit after all.

~ ~ ~

The year was a blur to Jaskier. He spent most of his time drunk off his ass and singing bawdy tunes in lively taverns. The man was bedding anything and anyone he possibly could get his hands on. Sometimes that meant a romp in a nice bed or against a wall in an alleyway. Jaskier didn’t care. Why would he? He was 41 years old and his whole life was spent following an ungrateful man who only wanted him out of his life. So, of course Jaskier was out of the witcher’s life now; for good.

“‘Ey! Oi!” Someone called as Jaskier strummed his lute singing about some fair maden, “you there troubadour sing that one about that witcher an’ the coin!” Someone called and Jaskier made a face at the drunk man as he slowed his strumming,

“I’m sorry I don’t sing that one anymore. There are plenty of bards who are still singing the praises of the white wolf. I am not one of them!” He said as he went back to strumming loudly and humming as he did so. He felt the first smack of something and looked down groaning at seeing the bread. It had been the man requesting he sing toss a coin to your witcher and he glared as another piece hit him, “oi fuck off!” He screamed and dropped the lute. It clang and he cursed himself. It was the beautiful lute Filavandrel had bequeathed to him on his first adventure with Geralt. Hell, it was the lute he actually composed toss a coin to your witcher on!

“Toss a coin toss a coin!” Shouts started and he groaned and started up the very familiar yet heart wrenching melody.

“When a humble bard… Graced a ride along with Geralt of Rivia… Along came this… Song…” He crooned and the crowd quieted. He got back into the groove and started to sing loudly as he danced along the floor. Soon, everyone was laughing and singing along with the chorus and throwing coins at the bard who would gladly collect those at the end of this song. Then, maybe he could drown himself into some more liquor and women? Who knew what the night would bring him!

Once the song ended, he quickly collected the coin and filled his purse up before he put his lute away and settled at a chair, “wine!” He called and there was a loud whoop as the barmaid quickly brought him the wine. He grinned with his ever charming smile and leaned forward, “thank you,” he murmured and placed an extra coin in her hand as he looked up at her with wide blue eyes. She turned bright red and giggled faintly. The girl was probably half his age but what did he care? He didn’t look anywhere near 41 (no one could figure that out either) and on top of that, he was handsome if he said so himself.

She skittered off as he sat back with the glass and took a long swig of it as he sighed. The warmth of the red wine tingled down his chest and into his stomach. Oh it would not take long for him to get drunk off of this. Maybe he could seduce that pretty little barmaid into his bed?

Jaskier pushed the long grown out locks away from his face. The mousy brown hair almost curly at his cheeks. It was a lot longer than he liked but he had no need nor want to cut his hair. In fact, his own face now matched his chest. It was covered in a thick layer of curly dark brown hair. He hadn’t ever let himself become unshaven and yet here he was looking rugged and dark not the baby faced troubadour that had followed Geralt to the end of the world and back again.

Jaskier had put on a bit of weight as well. Not much, just from all the alcohol he consumed on a daily basis had given him that gut. He didn’t care, why would he? People still fell at his feet to fuck and be fucked by the great Jaskier! Even without Geralt, he still was able to bed just about anyone and it wasn’t often he was threatened with death. That was a nice change. He literally could walk in to a town and fuck anyone without anyone so much as batting an eye; if he was careful that was. Can’t go fucking the alderman’s wife after all. Jaskier snickered at that idea and held up his empty mug for more.

The beautiful barmaid was quick to refill and he put another coin in her hand and let his fingers linger. She was a bright red and she grinned at him shyly, “I have a room. Maybe we could… get to know each other better? I will gladly serenade you with any song you wish my love,” he almost purred and she giggled even louder,

“Oh… oh that does sound amazing. My shift ends in a few hours. Maybe then?” Jaskier hummed and leaned forward again his breath ghosting over an ear,

“Room 206.” he said calmly as he sat back and she flounced off again as he drank his wine and adjusted what was growing in his pants. Oh, tonight was going to be quite fun after all.

~ ~ ~

Geralt woke to a piercing scream and sat up from the camp they had made. Ciri lay next to him but had screamed herself awake. This was quite normal and he sighed as he gathered the teen up and pulled her into his bedroom. “Shh… Sh…” He wasn’t the best at comforting but she didn’t seem to care. Hands dug into his shirt and twisted frantically as she tried to find purchase of some sort,

“I saw him.. The man with the bird hat,” she admitted softly and sniffled, “he killed you and he, he took me!” She cried as her body shook.

“He isn’t here,” Geralt stated bluntly as he rubbed his rough and calloused hands along her face and cheeks and up into her scalp lightly scratching and rubbing to try and calm the frantic child down, “no one can hurt you. Roach is on watch,” he nodded to the mare who just sighed and huffed at them as she paced tied to her spot. “Do you want to sleep with me?” He asked and Ciri gave a light nod as she settled down with Geralt who slowly leaned back and let her lay upon his chest.

Her breathing slowly went shallow out and she was fast asleep again. Geralt was wide awake though, his eyes wide as he looked up at the top of the tent; listening to the horses breath and the way Ciri murmured in her sleep as she wrung his shirt between rather strong fingers. He smiled and rubbed down her lower back in comforting circles as he too fell back into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, neither talked about the nightmares or dreams. Neither talked about Ciri almost begging to sleep in Geralt’s bedroll as if she was a little girl. Geralt would never deny her nor would he ever bring it up to embarrass her. She had been through so much in a years time that it would not be fair to her. “We will be stopping at the next town,” he explained to her as they finished packing and mounting up onto their horses, “they may have a contract and we can actually have a bath and eat a proper meal yeah?” Ciri nodded,

“Mmm, anything besides rabbit and venison,” she said with a happy nod as they trotted along the woods. Geralt just gave her a light smile as he followed right next to her.

“Come on Roach,” he said quietly to the horse who neighed in response as he rubbed her side gently. Ciri smiled at him and silently sped up knowing Geralt would follow whatever pace she kept.

It was the end of the day when they finally entered the small and quaint town. People went silent when they saw the golden eyed witcher and the girl with the piercing green eyes and almost white blond hair as she rode proudly on her horse as if she was already a queen. Geralt loved that the most about her. She had no fear nor did she show any weakness. She truly was Queen Calanthe’s grandchild.

They stopped in front of the one inn, and he got down helping Ciri off her own horse. He left her standing in front of the inn with their bags as he went to stable the two horses. He paid a few coins to the stable hand to make sure they got a good rub down before he came back and picked up one. Ciri grabbed the other.

Geralt opened the door to the inn and felt the silence drop over them as if it was a blanket. He cleared his throat and nodded to the bar and Ciri nodded as she went to go to the bar and cheerily asked for a meal and some ale for Geralt. Geralt searched and soon found a dark corner and settled knowing Ciri would find him shortly. She came back holding two large bowls looking quite proud of herself.

“They will be bringing you ale soon and milk for me!” She said happily as she sat the stew down with the crusty bread. He hummed and happily took a bite of the bread before he dug into the stew. Geralt could hear the talk pick back up as everything seemed to go to normal as a scared looking barmaid came to his side and sat down the ale,

“Here you are, sir witcher. It is our best,” she bowed her head and cleared her throat, “M-may I ask if you are Geralt of Rivia? The white wolf?” Geralt sat down his spoon loudly and looked up at her as Ciri made a face and continued to eat,

“Why?” He hissed and she turned bright red and jumped back,

“N-no trouble I promise ye’ sir!” She cried and bit her lip as she worried it through her teeth. “You see, there is a bard in town… J-jaskier?” She said softly, “Well, he got caught up with the wrong woman and got her pregnant you see,” she explained, “it was the sheriff's daughter,” the girl said quickly, “they plan to… to hang him tomorrow.” She looked at him and his eyes were wide as he stared at her.

“Where is he?” Geralt asked and she gulped,

“H-he’s locked away right now. I don’t know what you could do for him.” she said softly as she looked to Ciri who was staring between Geralt and then to the barmaid curiously. “I just thought you would like to know. He cries your name when he's sleeping.” at that, she flounced away and Geralt groaned,

“Jaskier… I’ve heard you mumble that name in your sleep.” Ciri said softly, “that is that bard that used to sing that song?” Geralt glared at her slightly as she turned bright red, “just curious don’t look at me like that. I am not the only one who has nightmares Geralt of Rivia!” She snapped and went back to her food.

Geralt picked up his own spoon and continued to eat, but his thoughts were on Jaskier. He had to save the stupid bard from himself again! Granted, it had been a year since he had to save Jaskier from some cuckold who was out to cut off his cock. Geralt sighed a bit and stood as he walked to the counter. He made small talk and pushed a few coins and pointed towards Cirilla. The barmaid that had talked to him had nodded and he walked back.

“You will be going to a room.” He stated quietly, “you will take a bath and you will wait for my return. I will be back before day break got it?” Ciri’s eyes went wide,

“Don’t leave me!” She cried and stood, hugging him. Geralt cursed as this was not helping his image. No, why would a big scary witcher; the Butcher of Blaviken let a small girl hug him?

“This is no different if I were to go off to kill something.” Geralt murmured and kissed the top of her head lovingly, “stay sharp, you have the dagger I gave you yeah?” She nodded and looked up at him with tear filled green eyes, “no later than dawn.” Geralt repeated as she pulled away and sniffled,

“Please don’t leave me.” she said softly, “Come back please? I don’t wanna be alone again..” Geralt sighed and hugged her tightly again,

“Never would I leave my child surprise, got it?” She smiled up at him and nodded happily. Geralt pulled away as the barmaid walked over with a key,

“Come little one. I will draw you a warm bath okay?” She nodded and picked up her pack as Geralt grabbed his. She followed the barmaid out of the room and up the stairs to the room Geralt had rented for her.

Geralt sighed as he glared at everyone there as if to say ‘you touch her you die,’ and everyone got the hint well as he started out of the inn. He had to make his way to the jail to save Jaskier. That was all that was on his mind. Save Jaskier, get Ciri, and get the fuck out of this small town before his own head was on the chopping block!

~ ~ ~

Jaskier groaned as he sat in his own filth and leaned against the hard and cold stone wall. He had been locked up for a week now after he had supposedly gotten that cute little 22 year old pregnant. It wasn’t his fault she was so damned good and when he tried to pull out she stopped him! What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t exactly stop an orgasm as it started. Jaskier banged his head back harder and groaned at the delicious pain.

Jaskier had no hope of rescue. No, who would come for him? His family had no idea where he was. He was too far from Oxenfurt for anyone who actually cared to hear of this, and Geralt? Who knew where the fuck the witcher was and if he actually cared? If Geralt had heard of this he would probably just say it was a good thing and good riddance to the bard.

That made his heart ache again as he tried not to cry. No, he was not drunk enough for these feelings. Jaskier sighed as he despaired to the idea of dying here, alone and sad. That was it for him, death.

~ ~ ~

Geralt found the jail easily enough and tried to bully his way in, “just let me see him,” he hissed, “Why are you killing him hmm? What did he do?” The guard sneered,

“He impregnated the wrong girl! He knocked ‘er up and left ‘er!”

“Well, we all know bards aren’t the smartest or the most loyal to who they bed,” he snapped lightly as he stepped closer, “that is no reason to kill him. There must be a mage or witch you can get a potion to rid her of such issues?” The man looked at him with wide eyes but tried not to be bullied as he stepped even closer,

“Does it look like we ‘ave a mage?” He sneered, “we barely ‘ave an inn! Now get along or we will be tossin ya in there to die along side the bard!” Geralt sighed and slowly formed the sign for Axii and let the sign touch his mind,

“You will give me the keys and I will let the bard out. There will be no violence and we will leave here immediately.” He said softly as he saw the sign take over the man’s mind. The man blinked and started to look for the keys on himself before he said,

“‘Ay sir witcher, don’t have no keys,” he mumbled and Geralt felt himself curse as he also started to look over the man. For sure, he had no keys. Geralt pushed past him and went into the small office and started to dig. No, no keys here either!

“Who the fuck doesn’t give the guard keys!?” He nearly screamed at the guard and kicked his knee out as the man fell with a cry. “Fuck,” he cursed and started to think. He would just have to wait until they were ready to execute him. Yes, he would lay in waiting with Ciri ready to ride out the minute he grabbed Jaskier. That would have to work. “Fine,” he hissed and let the sign go as he quickly left the man in pain on the ground screaming from a possible broken knee.

~ ~ ~

Geralt made his way back to the inn and Ciri had already bathed and was in a new set of clothes. When he entered, she was cowering but when she saw it was him; she flung herself and he wrapped his arms around her as he caught her. “See? I’m back,” he soothed as she looked up,

“Where is the bard?” She asked curiously and Geralt sighed,

“The damned guard didn’t have a key. We are going to go to bed and wake before the sun.” He explained, “we will have you on Stepper waiting with Roach and our things and I will grab him when he’s in the process of being moved to be executed alright?” Ciri nodded and curled up on the one bed. He slowly crawled in after her and fell asleep. Though, it was light because he refused to sleep past dawn.

~ ~ ~

Geralt woke with a gasp and sat up. Ciri was curled with her back against his side snoring lightly and looking so pleasant. He brushed a piece of blond hair from her face and bent to kiss her cheek as she twitched a bit, “time to wake,” he murmured in her ear. She huffed and yawned as she rolled over,

“It’s so early.” she complained but was already up and starting to gather their things. She was pretty organized and neat such as Geralt and Geralt thanked Melitele that she was.

They descended the stairs of the silent inn. It was still early enough no one was awake. Even when they went to grab the horses, the stable boys were fast asleep in piles of hay. Geralt had to shush Roach who wanted to neigh and whinny at seeing him. Stepper pranced in his spot as Ciri quickly threw the blanket and saddle up as she deftly buckled it. She had become quite efficient in the last six months with Geralt. Geralt had to stop and watch with pride.

They lead the horses out of the stables and Ciri quickly stepped onto the large horse, Stepper as Geralt tied Roach’s reins to Ciri’s saddle, “stay, Roach,” he commanded as she tried to pull away but stopped at that as Ciri soothed the chestnut mare. “Alright, I want you waiting on the outskirts of town in the tree lines.” He nodded towards the road, “south east. We will have to be quick or I will be killing when I do not wish to kill alright?” Ciri nodded silently,

“You will come for me, right?”

“Don’t be silly, you have my horse,” he tried to make it sound like a joke and Ciri thankfully got the dry humor and smiled before she kicked Stepper forward. The horse huffed but moved easily enough with Roach following not too far behind.

Geralt only had a small dagger within his belt. His two swords had been tied to Roach’s saddle for he sensed he would have no need for a sword in this fight. Geralt could almost always incapacitate a normal man with his bare hands.

The witcher moved almost as if a ghost through the silent and quiet roads of the small town. He found the jail and hid behind it as he listened. He could hear shouts and cries and laughter as it seemed they were roughing Jaskier up one last time. He winced and had to stop himself from lunging in already.

Though, he heard laughter that sounded like Jaskier as if Jaskier was laughing at the pain. He could hear the faint, “that’s all ya got!? Come on! You horses arse!” Yes, that was definitely Jaskier. Geralt cursed lightly,

“You have no self perseverance.” He said out loud. He heard a loud crack and winced. That had to have hurt for he did not hear Jaskier again.

“Damned bard, doesn’t know when te’ shut eet,” a man said in a rather thick accent. “Come we need te’ hang ‘im before that damn witcher comes back,” he hissed as he heard movement and nodded to himself. They were going to move him. Geralt could feel the warmth of the sun as it started to rise ever so slowly. A rooster crowed three times and he quirked a smirk at that.

There was a loud squeak Geralt recognized as an unoiled metal door. He pressed himself closely to the side of the building as he heard the door bang open and they brought out a half unconscious Jaskier. Geralt steeled himself for a fight and sneered; baring teeth as he saw the sorry state Jaskier was in.

Jaskier had shackles on his ankles and rope keeping his wrists together. His clothes were tattered and bloodied. His face was bruised and swollen with dried blood from a bloodied lip and bloody nose.

“Fuck,” he hissed quietly under his breath as one man held the rope and another followed behind Jaskier. Geralt’s golden eyes darted and he was thankful to not see anyone else. At least if there was blood shed, it would be two no more than that.

Geralt was silent as he fell into step behind the three without so much of a sound. Geralt was big, but he could be light on his feet. He had to be when it came to killing monsters. It didn’t take much for Geralt to grab the man behind Jaskier and put him into a sleeper hold. He shushed him as the man went down quickly and quietly. He dropped the body to the ground before he looted the body. He smirked at taking the small coin pouch and found what he hoped was the keys to the shackles upon his friend’s ankles.

He fell back behind them and walked silently thankful neither turned around. Though, Jaskier soon tripped and was on the ground crying softly as Geralt stopped and looked upon him with such empathy. His own heart was slowly hurting in his chest as the second guard turned to curse at Jaskier. Though, his eyes went to Geralt standing there silently, holding a set of keys,

“You! You fucker!” He snarled as he dropped the rope and moved to attack. Geralt easily dodged the blows and moved about. He dipped below and used an elbow to jar the man to the side before he grabbed him and wrestled him down. It was quick and painless as he snapped the man’s neck with a loud crack.

Jaskier had sat up and was sitting on bare knees as he stared at Geralt through horrified blue eyes. Geralt dropped to his knees and grabbed his friend’s face between now gentle hands,

“I’m so sorry,” Geralt murmured gently as he rubbed his cheek with a thumb. Jaskier looked away defeated as Geralt continued, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You don’t have to forgive me but I won’t let you die,” Geralt admitted softly, “you won’t die today, I promise.” Jaskier felt a scream rip through him as he pulled away and started to sob as he brought his bound hands to his face and sobbed uncontrollably.

This was what he wanted, this feeling. He had wanted this and here Geralt was. He had saved him from dying. A weight had lifted from his shoulders as he wailed and sobbed. Geralt was unsure what to do but sit there with a hand on his shoulder. Though, he looked around and cleared his throat a bit, “Jask, more guards are coming. We need to go, now.” He hissed and used the dagger to cut the rope off. Jaskier rubbed his sore and chafed wrists as Geralt fumbled and found the right key to let his ankles out.

“Can you run? “He asked and Jaskier shrugged. At that, Geralt didn’t care as he tossed the bard over his shoulder and started for the path he had told Ciri to wait on. Jaskier didn’t argue or complain as they made it quickly to the horses. “When I say run, I mean it.” he said to Ciri who nodded and held onto the reins tightly. Geralt untied Roach and tossed a limp Jaskier up onto Roach.

He climbed up and held Jaskier against his chest as he felt an arrow whiz past his head. “Run!” He screamed and Ciri easily kicked Stepper into running. The reason the horse was fondly called stepper was because when he wanted to go, he went.

Roach was no slouch and followed behind just as quickly as Geralt used one hand to steer and one hand to hold onto the limp bard. They rode like that until they were far enough that no one had followed. “Woah woah!” He called and Ciri reined back. Stepper reared but she held fast as he soon settled. Roach just huffed as she slowed to a stop. “We need to assess the damage.. Jask can you walk?” Jaskier nodded and slowly climbed from the horse, albeit a little unsteady.

Geralt got off the horse and rummaged until he found a few healing salves, “can I bandage you?” Geralt asked and Jaskier said nothing as he nodded ever so faintly and closed his eyes. He was silent as Geralt started to rub the healing salve over his body. The aches were leaving and the bruises would heal. Blood was wiped off of his sore face and Geralt cursed under his breath at how badly Jaskier had been beaten.

Once he was mostly clean, Geralt pulled out a pair of his own clothes, “until we can get you more.” he said nodding to the troubadour’s torn clothes. Jaskier was numb as he finished undoing the buttons and didn’t seem to care that a girl was watching with curious eyes as he stripped to underwear. He shakily pulled on the black tunic. It was rough but it smelt of Geralt and Jaskier sighed as he took a deep breath and almost fell right there just from that scent. Geralt helped him into the trousers and buttoned them. They were only a few centimeters too short and the shirt was large and loose due to Geralt being built a lot more. The pants stayed up though and that was nice.

“Alright, we are going to ride until dark and set up camp.” he murmured softly, “you can ride Roach with me. Is that okay?” Jaskier just numbly nodded as Geralt climbed back onto the mare and pulled Jaskier behind him. Jaskier quickly wrapped lithe arms around his friend’s waist and laid his head against Geralt’s back. Geralt gave a faint smile and Ciri smiled to,

“Nice to meet you. He used to dream about you,” she said and Geralt gave her a look, “what I would wake up and you would be mumbling his name and saying sorry and you messed up,” she shrugged innocently and Jaskier looked at Geralt quietly with curious eyes.

“We can talk when we settle down,” he said softly and Jaskier just nodded as they started to ride again. It was best to get as far away as possible just in case they wanted to pursue the three.

~ ~ ~ It was almost dark when Geralt finally called for a stop. They were next to a spring fed river and with it being so hot during the days he knew it would be quite warm still, “alright we will make camp here. Ciri, can you set a trap?” She nodded and jumped off Stepper, tying him off with deft hands before she grabbed the supplies from her pack and started to trudge the woods for a perfect place for a trap. Geralt got off Roach and helped a still quiet and limp Jaskier.

Geralt found a log and heaved it to a spot and pointed. Jaskier sat with no qualms as Geralt started to gather up twigs and leaves for kindling. It wasn’t long before he had a fire started and Ciri had came back to announce her trap was set. She started to help set up camp as she always did. Though, green eyes kept looking at the older man that seemed as if he was a shell of a man now.

“Geralt? He doesn’t look so good,” she finally murmured into his ear and Geralt sighed,

“I think it is shock. I will try to bring him around. Get the tent ready I am going to take him to bathe. No peeking,” he teased and she snorted,

“We’ve bathed together plenty of times!” She said and he chuckled as he grabbed two towels from one pack and pulled Jaskier up ever so gently,

“Let’s go take a bath…” Jaskier just hummed and followed easily behind Geralt to the river. Jaskier let Geralt undress him before Geralt slowly stripped and pushed Jaskier into the warm waters. Geralt sighed, “not a bath bath but it's better than nothing…” He said softly and Jaskier just hummed and started to wash without prompting. That made Geralt feel better as he too started to clean himself off with the grime of the traveling. He hadn’t gotten to bathe like Ciri did at the inn.

Once they were clean, Geralt pulled Jaskier out and dried the man off before he put more healing salve all over the scraps, cuts and bumps he had. He cursed under his breath at how marred that once smooth skin was in just a year. Jaskier dressed as Geralt dried himself off and pulled his own clothes back on.

When they entered the campsite, Ciri was skinning two rather large rabbits and grinned up at Geralt, “I’ve gotten good!” She chirped and looked to Jaskier and cocked her head faintly to the side, “you hungry?” She asked Jaskier who looked at her and then back at Geralt and Geralt gave a nod as he plopped down next to her,

“Starving,” he said hoarsely and she grinned at his first word being to her. Geralt smiled as he took one of the rabbits to finish skinning before they both were spit roasted and thrown onto the blazing fire.

They all sat in relative silence as the rabbits cooked. When they were done, Geralt filleted pieces and handed them out on crude plates he had procured in the last six months of traveling with the young girl. When Ciri got hers, she moved to go into the tent to give Jaskier and Geralt alone time, claiming tiredness. Though, Geralt knew better.

“Jaskier…” He murmured faintly as Jaskier picked at the rabbit eating it slowly, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do or to say.” He said softly, “you mean so much to me and I was stupid. I was stupid to force you to leave me.” Jaskier twitched and looked up behind lidded blue eyes,

“I...I just wanted to do my best for you,” Jaskier said softly. “I wanted to be your companion, your friend, maybe even your lover.” Jaskier felt his cheeks rise in heat as he cleared his throat, “you hurt me so bad,” he choked faintly,

“I wanted to do my best and yet my best wasn't good enough was it, Geralt?” He asked and Geralt felt his heart thud loudly and rapidly.

“I-it was good enough. I promise you Jaskier.” Geralt replied gently as he moved so they were sitting closer. Jaskier was leaning his back against the log and Geralt fell to the ground next to him. He let his leg touch Jaskier’s and Jaskier did not pull or shrink away. “I was so hurt by Yen, and I took it out on you. I didn’t want you to suffer anymore traveling with me,” Geralt said softly, “but I can see now you were suffering without me.” Jaskier snorted as he sat the plate down of uneaten rabbit.

“I suffered more without you than I did with you,” he said softly as Geralt hummed and nodded,

“I realise that now. I also realise I can have a companion and care for them as well as protect them,” he nodded his head towards the tent where he could tell Ciri was leaning and listening.

“I loved you, Geralt,” Jaskier finally admitted, “I fell madly in love with you. Why would I give you my twenties and my thirties?” He asked as he stared at Geralt, “why I followed you everywhere and anywhere? You took my love and stomped it out on that damned mountain you know that?” Geralt huffed lightly and nodded,

“I know that now and I was wrong, can you ever forgive me?” Geralt had sat down his half uneaten plate and moved a hand to Jaskier’s knee. He was thankful Jaskier did not pull away but soon his own hand was shakily grasping Geralt’s as he grasped it tightly; lacing their fingers together. Geralt smiled and brought the hand up to kiss it gently, “I can’t promise to be the best but I can promise to love you fiercely. I want you to come with us; come to Kaer Morhen please?” Jaskier’s lip twitched and he nodded as he leaned closer to Geralt,

“Of course you and your child surprise?” He asked as he looked over and winked at the girl who tried to hide from the two men’s eyes. Geralt nodded and Jaskier took that moment to turn and quickly bring Geralt’s lips to his own. Geralt was surprised but happily tossed his arms around Jaskier and gave back just as good as Jaskier had given. Their tongues meshed and they kissed tenderly next to the fire light. Jaskier moaned and straddled Geralt’s lap and ground down as Geralt ground up but he pulled away and panted, “not here, not now.” he said as he looked up at his bard’s disappointed face, “we have a 13 year old girl listening and watching. I rather our first time be in a nice big bed.” He said truthfully and Jaskier nodded but pouted as he settled to just sitting in his lap and he huffed a sigh,

“Okay I can live with that.” he said softly and then cursed, “my things! My lute!” he cried, “oh they still have them! What will we do!?” Geralt groaned softly,

“I can go back.. Just me.” he said as he looked at Jaskier and to Ciri. “you two keep riding for the next town. Ciri do you mind riding double with Jask?”

“No,” he meek call came from the tent,

“Good I will leave at daybreak and meet you in the next town over. Ciri are you okay with that?”

Ciri poked her head out and looked at the two men, “he won’t leave me will he?” She asked nodding to Jaskier, “and you will come back right?” Jaskier looked at her fondly and smiled,

“My dear, I won’t leave you at all. I have wanted to meet you for so many years,” he cooed and slowly crawled off of Geralt’s lap and moved to her and pulled her into a tight hug. Ciri relaxed mostly because the scent she smelt was all Geralt and it was her comfort. She nodded against his chest as Geralt moved closer and wrapped them both into his arms.

“I won’t leave either of you. Now, let’s sleep so you two can get on the road and I can head back.” he grumbled faintly and Jaskier grinned,

“Can I share your bed roll?” He asked and Geralt rolled his eyes,

“If she doesn’t beat you to it,” Jaskier gasped loudly,

“Is my place in your heart being replaced by such a sweet girl!? Oh what will I do!?” Geralt just grunted,

“Not like that. Shes… shes like my daughter,” he admitted and Ciri flushed before she dove into her own bed roll. Thankfully, Geralt’s was big enough for the two adult men and they easily fell into a deep sleep.

~ ~ ~

Geralt and Roach were gone before the other two had stirred. He had left a large coin purse so they could purchase a room. Ciri woke against an unfamiliar chest and gasped as she sat up but then noticed it was the sleeping troubadour and slowly settled against him until he woke with a yawn and smiled as he stroked her hair, “morning princess.” he chirped and she smiled happily,

“We should head out that is what Geralt would want,” she said quietly and he nodded,

“Of course, come let’s pack up shall we?” They made quick work of the campsite and were soon both on Stepper and riding for the main path to get to the next town over.

~ ~ ~

Jaskier had gotten them a single room with two beds so they could wait for Geralt. They expected him to be only a day but one turned to two and then three. Every day, Ciri became more and more distraught, “what if he doesn’t come back? “She cried on the third night as she wiped her eyes, “he left us he won’t come back!” She was now wailing and Jaskier had pulled her into his arms and settled on the bed trying to comfort the teen against his chest.

“Now, now there! He just probably got held up, maybe he got a contract?” He asked gently. “Why don’t we go down stairs and get something to eat? He should be here any time I promise you. He wouldn’t leave us.” at least, that was what Jaskier was trying to rationalize as well. Would he? Did Geralt think he would be better suited to care for Ciri?

Jaskier was able to prod the younger girl down the stairs and he quickly called for ale, milk, and food. They settled in a dark and quiet corner and started to eat and drink. Ciri still looked miserable as Jaskier tried to comfort her.

The door swung open and everyone stopped as the gold eyed witcher stepped inside. He looked bloodied and his eyes were blown. Everywhere he looked, everyone shrunk away quickly. Jaskier saw this and grinned as he stood, but Ciri was already flying at him and clinging to him as the man dropped the bags and lute to the floor. “You did come back!” She cried and he sighed softly and kissed her head,

“Got held up. Food.” he said roughly to the bar keep who nodded as Geralt fished the items off the floor and walked, holding Ciri to the table with the bard. “Got your things.” he grunted softly and Jaskier smiled gently,

“Thank you.” he murmured softly, “see? Told you princess!” he teased the girl who smiled and sat back down. Geralt sat next to Jaskier as a plate of food and a mug of ale was brought to him. He took a big swig and dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

Once Geralt was done, he asked for a second room for Cirilla so he could bathe and maybe talk to Jaskier alone without the 13 year old eavesdropping. She fought the idea of having to sleep in a room by herself, but thankfully it was right across the street and Geralt promised if she got scared she could crawl into bed with him and possibly Jaskier.

She acquiesced and they made their ways to the respective rooms. Once Ciri was in her room, and their door had shut, Jaskier had his hands all over Geralt. “Are you hurt? Do you need to be rubbed down? Anything I can stitch?” The bard asked gently and Geralt shook his head as he put strong hands on his friend’s shoulders.

“Just a bath,” he rasped quietly and Jaskier nodded. Geralt pulled away and quickly went to the tub. The water was cold so he lit it with igni and slowly undressed before he slipped into it. The water smelt of roses and chamomile and he knew that Jaskier and Ciri probably had bathed in it before. He didn’t care too much. A bath was what he needed.

Jaskier dropped to his knees and put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and massaged lovingly before he leaned closely, “we missed you… I missed you,” he admitted and Geralt huffed and leaned back a bit,

“I got caught up with the guards. It wasn’t pretty let’s put it that way. Got some nice coin out of it,” he smirked lightly,

“Geralt! You did not become a brigand and steal from them!?”

“Not like they were going to use it,” Geralt grumbled lightly. “We can rest here for the night and start on for Kaer Morhen tomorrow alright?” Jaskier nodded at that and sighed as he started to help wash Geralt’s back gently. Geralt happily leaned forward and moaned softly at the touches. Jaskier felt his face heat up and he cleared his throat gently,

“Geralt.. I have a confession,” he said softly as he pulled his hands away, “you may tell me to leave or send me on my way again but I can’t hold back any longer. I’m not a young man anymore as you know…” Geralt looked over at him over his shoulder and waved a hand for him to continue, “my point being is: I am in love with you. I always have been. Something about you drew me to you and I was never able to get away,” he said softly and sighed a bit. Geralt just sat there in stunned silence as he watched Jaskier, “S-say something please,” Jaskier almost pleaded as he felt his chest tighten at the idea of Geralt rejecting him again.

Geralt turned in the tub and surged up. His lips crashed against Jaskier’s and they shared a rough kiss that was all teeth and moans. Jaskier groaned as he was pressed against the floor next to the tub with a very naked and very soaking wet Geralt on top of him. Geralt lessened the kiss and it became gentle and loving as he ran strong hands up and down the bard’s body.

When it almost became too much, he pulled away and panted slightly as he looked down at the bard who looked as if he was shocked. “Bed,” Geralt murmured softly and Jaskier nodded and scrambled for the bed quickly. The tunic he wore that was Geralt’s came off and he undid the pants but did not pull them off. His boots got kicked to the side as Geralt stood and shook out the wet hair. He walked silently to the bed, still naked before the bed dipped with his weight.

He dropped down next to Jaskier and pulled Jaskier to his naked chest as he laid down. Jaskier leaned against it before he was pulled up again for another rough and loving kiss. Jaskier moaned quietly as he pressed himself against Geralt. Geralt pulled away and murmured against kiss swollen lips, “I am so sorry Jask. I never meant to make you feel that way. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Oh you silly Witcher… I already have,” Jaskier stated and grinned as he dived back in for another heartwarming kiss. Geralt flipped them so Jaskier was beneath him. Strong hands were running all over his body and Jaskier was sighing happily into the ministrations.

One hand soon cupped between his legs and Jaskier flushed as he felt a surge of arousal hit straight at home. The hand massaged and rubbed until Jaskier was grinding back and moaning loudly for more. Geralt soon ripped the pair of trousers off and down his body and smirked at the naked form of his now lover.

“Lovely,” he breathed and Jaskier flushed as he tried to hide almost in embarrassment. Geralt pinned the arms away and bent to kiss him again as he rubbed his own growing erection against Jaskier’s. Jaskier gasped and moaned softly at that as Geralt ground down and groaned against his lips.

“Jaskier, I want you to fuck me,” Jaskier’s eyes flew open and he almost sat up but bumped against Geralt and fell back,

“W-what?” He asked loudly, “F-fuck you? You?” Jaskier stared at the well muscled chest, the lovely patches of fur that ran down and all those damn scars. The fact his cock was rather large and pulsing against his thigh and he gulped. Granted, Jaskier was unsure if he could take something so large. It had been years since he had bottomed. “Are you sure?” Geralt nodded and rolled over and laid down, legs open,

“Very,” he breathed softly as he smiled up at Jaskier, “please?” Jaskier groaned and nodded as he quickly bent down to take what he could of the thick piece of meat into his mouth. Geralt just moaned softly and let Jaskier work his magic.

Jaskier was incredibly skilled with his tongue and it made Geralt drip with precum as he felt the man bobbing his head roughly up and down. Geralt placed one hand in his hair to help steady and let Jaskier work. It wasn’t long before Geralt was pulling Jaskier off his cock and panting, “gonna cum if you keep this up. Rather cum around your cock.” Jaskier moaned at that and nodded,

“Oil?” He asked and Geralt groaned as he rolled off the bed and dove into his pack. Soon, he pulled out a small tin with some salve that was great for sore muscles. This would do perfectly. Geralt crawled back onto the bed and laid out on his back, legs open. Jaskier fought with the tin for a minute before he finally got it open. He grinned nervously but soon was scooping some and covering his fingers in the thick substance.

One finger went between his lover’s legs and down his crack. Geralt tensed slightly but soon relaxed when said finger started to massage his hole slowly. Geralt groaned and bit his knuckle lightly as to not be too loud. Jaskier massaged and worked the tender hole until it was finally pliable. At that, he pressed his finger into the first knuckle. There was little to no resistance so it was easy to press it all the way in.

Jaskier moved said finger in and out slowly watching Geralt for any signs of pain. There was nothing but signs of pleasure as Geralt actually moaned and panted out loud as he pressed back against the finger. Jaskier groaned and pressed in a second. Geralt hissed but it was a hiss of pleasure not pain. Jaskier slowly scissored the two fingers and kept working him open before Geralt swatted at his hand, “I’m ready damnit. I don’t need as prepping as normal people.” Jaskier nodded and pulled his fingers out before using the last of the salve to slick his hard cock. He pulled back his foreskin and moaned softly as he slowly settled over Geralt’s hips.

This would be a first, Jaskier had never bedded someone quite larger than himself. Granted, they were almost the same height but Geralt easily out weighed him and was much wider than Jaskier’s own form. Jaskier took a deep breath and slowly pressed forward and his cock breached the round and puckered hole easily. Geralt gasped and keened as his head threw back. Wisps of white framed his face and Jaskier had to bite his lip to keep from shouting ‘fuck’ into the air.

Geralt leaned up and caught Jaskier into another kiss as Jaskier started a slow and steady pace. His hips rocked in and out of Geralt and Geralt just moaned against the lips before he broke away to look at him with lust filled eyes, “you can fuck me as hard as you like, bard. You won’t injure me.” That made Jaskier groan loudly before his hips shot forward harder and he started a brutal pace.

Geralt fell back against the bed and moaned loudly as he felt Jaskier speed up. Jaskier grabbed the witcher’s legs and was able to put them on his shoulders and almost bent the witcher in half as he fucked down into his willing body. Geralt was a mess, crying out and moaning and encouraging the bard on before Geralt was fisting his own cock.

Three hard fists and he was screaming his orgasm as large white ropes shot out and covered his chest, hand and stomach. Jaskier moaned at the site and felt his own body stutter before he was shaking and cumming deep within Geralt; moaning as he released.

When he was finally done, he let down his lover’s legs and slowly pulled out with a groan. His cock was softening and overly sensitive now. Geralt’s was limp and still pulsing as cum oozed and pooled in his navel. Jaskier lay down and rest his head against the witcher’s chest and shoulder as he relaxed. “That was amazing,” he murmured and Geralt put an arm around him and hummed,

“Hmm, yes yes it was.” He said softly and smiled down at Jaskier. “So, will you stay with us in Kaer Morhen?” He questioned softly,

“For sex like that? Of course!” He laughed softly and Geralt chuckled as he rubbed soothing circles against his lower back,

“Good. I need you.” Geralt murmured and Jaskier flushed slightly,