Work Text:
They're in Oxenfurt for a festival and while Jaskier is delighted about performing and seeing all his old friends, Geralt is already regretting his agreement to accompany him. Because the festival is four days long and Jaskier will be occupied for the majority of that time and if he can't pick up any work in the area, Geralt will be bored. Festivals mean crowds and crowds mean noise and a lot of it, so Geralt tends to keep his distance.
As they make their way across the bridge, there are already people filling the streets and the festivities don't begin until tomorrow. Decorations are going up around them as Jaskier leads them toward the Alchemy and Geralt looks around at everything as he goes. It's been a long time since he's been in Oxenfurt and he'd forgotten how much he actually likes the city - as much as he likes any city.
It's not long before they reach the inn and Jaskier makes arrangements for a room before slipping away to mingle with the other guests. Geralt heads upstairs to organize his things and rest for a little while before inevitably being pulled into whatever Jaskier's plans are for the evening. He makes quick work of checking the room over, then lays his swords out where they'll be easily accessible should he need them. Then, reluctantly, he makes his way back downstairs.
It's already early evening so people are gathering to drink and he spots Jaskier in the corner at a table with a man he doesn't recognize. Geralt inhales deeply, already preparing himself for the worst, and crosses to join them. At least, he thinks as he approaches, if Jaskier's fucking this guy, the one chasing them out of town later can't be any bigger.
"Geralt! Jaskier grins, "come and drink with us!"
"Who's your friend?" Geralt asks, his concern coming through more than he intends.
"Brenhon. We've been friends for years and it's not what you think," Jaskier says with a note of irritability, "I called him over because I thought you might find something to talk about. He's an armourer. And," Jaskier adds, much more cheerfully, "he plays Gwent." Geralt can't help the grin that tugs at his lips and the other man smiles back at him.
"Winner buys the first round?" Geralt suggests and Brenhon nods his agreement.
They get to talking over Gwent and Geralt has to admit that, for once, Jaskier knows how to pick his friends. Brenhon is an excellent player - one of the first to challenge Geralt in a long time - and he knows his craft well. He's considering going to Brenhon's shop tomorrow during the festival to take a look at his armour. He doesn't need anything new, strictly speaking, but he likes to keep his options open. And seeing Brenhon again wouldn't be terrible either.
They end six matches in a tie and Jaskier has tuned out by this point, his gaze turned toward the crowd filtering into the inn. Geralt looks at them with a frown and Brenhon notices.
"Not a fan of crowds, hm?"
"Not particularly. Might turn in for the night."
"Why don't you come with me, I'll show you my work. Much quieter at the shop." He flashes Geralt a grin that makes his skin heat and Geralt finds himself rising out of his seat before he's even agreed.
"And where are you going?" Jaskier asks, tearing his gaze from the crowd.
"Nowhere you'd be interested in Julian," Brenhon says and Jaskier just scoffs.
"Here I am introducing you like a good friend and I am being abandoned."
"Sure you'll find someone to keep you company," Geralt shrugs. "I'll be back later."
Jaskier continues to scoff at them, but Brenhon just waves him off and Geralt laughs softly as they head for the door. It's not often he's the one leaving Jaskier alone for the night and he's more than a little amused and Jaskier's indignation.
Brenhon's house isn't far from the inn, but they don't even make it that far before Geralt's on his knees in the dirt, fumbling with the ties of Brenhon's trousers. Rocks dig into his knees, but his own cock twitches in his trousers and he wants so badly to get his mouth around Brenhon's cock that he can't make his fingers work. Brenhon takes over, untying his trousers and tugging his cock out quickly. He strokes himself teasingly and Geralt presses his pams to Brenhon's thighs, squeezing as the tip of his cock is pressed against his lips.
Brenhon pushes forward and Geralt meets him halfway, wrapping his mouth around the head and sliding onto his cock. Brenhon jerks into it and Geralt just lets him sink deeper, running his tongue along the underside of his prick until Brenhon is settled. But he can feel his legs twitching and Geralt wastes no time pulling back to the head and sliding back again. He takes him down over and over, putting all of his effort into it until Brenhon is leaning over him, bracing against the wall and shuddering. Geralt can feel how badly he wants to take, but he holds back, lets Geralt keep the pace and bites down on his bottom lip to keep quiet.
Geralt moans around him and slides his hands up to Brenhon's hips, guiding them forward until his cock hits the back of his throat. He wants Brenhon out of his clothes, wants to suck him off and get his hands on him; it's been a long time since he's been with a man and he's suddenly starving for it.
He lets Brenhon fuck his mouth, fingers firm but gentle around his jaw as Brenhon slides into his mouth, gentle at first, but picking up speed as Geralt goes pliant beneath him. His knees and thighs ache under him and his cock twitches against his trousers, but Geralt slips his hands up under Brenhon's shirt and pulls him closer.
Geralt shuts his eyes and focuses on the press of the cock against his tongue, letting his mind drift. But his head gets foggy and he finds himself too soft around the edges, slipping into something he shouldn't. Something he wants, but now isn't the time for that. So he pulls himself together and slides off Brenhon's cock, looking at him. Brenhon takes a step back, giving him the space to stand up and leans in once he's on his feet.
"Everything okay?" he breathes and Geralt nods, pulling him into a rough kiss.
"Yeah," he rumbles, "just want you to fuck me."
"Mm, that I can do." He hums leaning in to press a kiss to Geralt's neck and nips at the skin there. His hands settle on Geralt's hips, turning him toward the fence and Geralt braces himself with his hands.
He shifts so his legs are spread, hips pressed out invitingly and Brenhon takes the offer. He quickly tugs Geralt's trousers down and runs a hand down his spine, brushing over his hole and pressing against him before dropping to his knees. Brenhon's mouth is hot and wet and eager, immediately pressing against his hole and Geralt groans as his tongue flicks out at him. Neither of them has oil here, so it's the best alternative, but he's not sure he'll last long enough for Brenhon to fuck him like this.
He can't help but push back into the touch, too turned on to try and tell him to stop now, and Brenhon seems to be enjoying himself, licking over his hole and nipping at the less-sensitive skin around it. Geralt just whines, leaning so he's propped up against his elbows and when Brenhon rises up to his feet again, he's already dripping and aching for it.
Brenhon doesn't make him wait. He presses himself up against Geralt's back, slipping his cock between his cheeks as he kisses the back of his neck. It's a tease with every thrust, the head of his cock catching on Geralt's rim but not pushing in and it drives Geralt insane. He wants it now and if Brenhon is going to take too long, he'll just do it himself. But he doesn't have to resort to that as Brenhon reaches between them, pressing two fingers against him and pushing inside. Geralt's head drops back onto his shoulder with a moan and Brenhon hums.
"Sure you're okay to take it like this?" he asks and Geralt nods, turning to press his face into his neck.
"Not gonna last till we get back to your place."
"Fuck. Okay."
Brenhon makes quick work of fingering him, just enough that the press of his cock doesn't burn. He's slow when he presses into him, but Geralt tries not to push because he knows he's just being cautious. And Brenhon doesn't know how long it's been since the last time Geralt let someone fuck him.
When he does finally sink in, Geralt moans, shoving his hips back hard and Brenhon laughs soft against his ear, a shaky sound that Geralt finds rather soothing. Geralt rolls his hips and fucks himself slowly on Brenhon's cock, squeezing around him right up to the head and then pushing back all at once. It feels incredible and he's lightheaded with the pleasure of it. When Brenhon takes over, fucking into him with long, slow strokes, Geralt can't imagine why he let himself go so long without seeking someone out to fuck him like this.
Geralt drops forward, resting his head against his arms and Brenhon reaches around to touch him, thick fingers wrapping firmly around his cock. Geralt jerks into the touch, moaning softly as he pushes between his fingers. He certainly isn't going to last like this. But Brenhon is hot and willing and Geralt will spend the rest of the night bringing him to his knees if he's allowed.
He comes unexpectedly as Brenhon's thumb presses against his hole, slipping just slightly so Geralt can feel the stretch of it alongside his cock. It sends a bolt of pleasure through Geralt's body and he lurches forward, slamming his hips against Brenhon's fist as he comes, spilling all over the fence. He shudders and shakes through it and almost immediately, Brenhon is pulling out and jerking himself quick and hard. A part of Geralt appreciated the gesture, but-
"Come in me," he growls and Brenhon only groans before pushing back in quickly.
His hips snap quick and hard and it's almost enough to get Geralt worked up again right away. When Brenhon comes, he drapes himself over Geralt's back, staying deep as he works through the rush. He doesn't let go until his breathing has settled and he strokes Geralt's cock softly, laughing against his neck.
"Mmm, ready to go again already?"
"I could. Why don't you get me home first and you can have me all night?"
Brenhon squeezes Geralt's cock and smiles against his neck.
"That sounds like a brilliant plan."
It's well past midnight (and the acceptable time to be wandering around an inn) when Geralt slips back up toward their room. Jaskier is bound to be asleep and he doesn't want to wake him, so he keeps as quiet as he can, gently pushing the door open and tiptoeing inside. Only to find Jaskier fully awake and staring at him from his spot on his bed.
"I cannot believe you would ditch me to go and get your dick sucked," he scoffs and Geralt just laughs as he crosses to his own bed and collapses onto it.
"I don't see how this is any different than what you do to me all the time."
Jaskier splutters, indignant.
"First of all," he starts, waving a hand in Geralt's direction, "you were… supposed to pour me a bath tonight! You promised!"
Geralt has no recollection of this, so he shrugs his shoulders and shifts to pull his shirt off. Whether it's the motion itself that bothers Jaskier or the sight of the purple blotches that are already fading on his chest, he doesn't know, but it riles him up even more.
"You ditched me. Me, Geralt, your very best friend! And for what? a quick fuck?"
"Mm, wasn't that quick."
"Geralt! That is… that's more than I care to know and simultaneously not nearly enough information. How could you- why are you-" he huffs and curls his hands into fists, clearly frustrated with himself.
"Are you done?" Geralt asks, cocking an eye at him, "because I'm exhausted and my ass is sore and I have to look for work tomorrow."
"Not nearly," Jaskier shoots back but something about his demeanour is different and suddenly, he can't keep his eyes to himself. He doesn't fight it when Geralt turns over and pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and Geralt just smirks to himself as he shuts his eyes and quickly drifts off to sleep.
The following morning is uneventful. Jaskier is off to perform for the first time, but not before threatening to leave him here twice and making the entire upper level of the inn aware of his disappointment in Geralt. Geralt finds the whole thing rather amusing and continues eating his breakfast in peace long after Jaskier has stormed out the front door. He's still sitting calmly when Jaskier storms back, even more flustered, grabs his forgotten lute, and heads out again without a word.
Jaskier doesn't return to the inn until that evening, huffing and puffing and pouting to anyone in the common area who will sympathize that he only came in second in some competition or other. As soon as Geralt shows his face, he's herded into a corner by an incredibly upset bard, though he seems less concerned about the competition and more about ensuring Geralt knows he's the reason he didn't win.
"I don't know how," Geralt mumbles, "wasn't even there." He has an idea though, not that he's going to give Jaskier the satisfaction of voicing it aloud.
"You just- you threw me off last night and now I'm going to suffer all week for it. And during the festival, Geralt!" Geralt just shrugs and Jaskier splutters.
Geralt's day wasn't particularly lucrative either, so he's turning in early tonight; Brenhon hasn't been around so there's no reason for him to stay up and listen to Jaskier complain at him. But, to his surprise (and amusement), Jaskier follows him up to their room, nattering all the way about how Geralt abandoning him in his time of need has thrown him off.
"I'll pour you a bath tomorrow night," Geralt promises, "with salts and oils from the vendors."
"Well!" Jaskier starts but failing to find something to complain about, cuts himself off. "What about tonight?" he suggests. "Pour me a bath tonight and I may forgive you." Geralt huffs a laugh and slips by him, flopping face-forward on his bed.
"My ass is still sore," he mumbles. Jaskier sighs dramatically at him. "If you come and rub it for me, I'll even throw in a surprise tomorrow." Jaskier stops dead and stares at him.
"I will not, under any circumstances, be rubbing your ass for you. Why don't you go ask the one who made it sore in the first place?"
Geralt presses his face into the pillows and grins. He fucking knew it, Jaskier is jealous. And it doesn't make sense that he'd be jealous of him, because he didn't have to introduce him to Brenhon. If Jask had wanted to fuck Brenhon, he could have gone off with him before Geralt even went downstairs. But he didn't. He's jealous of Brenhon.
"Come on Jask," he mumbles, forcing a whine into his voice, "it's sore. "
"I'm sure it is. Maybe stop fucking armourers with big dicks instead of helping your friends prepare for important performances and your ass won't hurt so much."
"But it felt so good last time."
Jaskier flinches at that and stops where he's been wandering wildly around the room. Part of Geralt likes to taunt him, but when Jaskier freezes and he realizes how close he is to winning this, he really just wants Jaskier's hands on him. He hums, pushing his ass up in the air and wiggling it. Jaskier groans softly and Geralt doubles his efforts.
"Jask, please. I can't do it well enough myself and I know you're good with your hands-"
"Will you just-" Jaskier starts, sharp and exasperated, "If I do it, will you shut up about it."
"Mmhm."
"Fine." Jaskier storms over to his bed, kneeling on the edge and looking down at him. "Well, then, get your trousers off, will you? I'm not going to do everything myself."
Geralt reaches under him, unlacing his trousers and pushing them down past the swell of his ass. He's already half-hard and he can't help but squeeze his cock as Jaskier shifts into place. His cock twitches at the attention and he lets out a soft groan as he settles. Jaskier climbs up onto his legs, sitting back on his calves.
"Oil?" he asks and Geralt reaches over the edge of the bed to produce a bottle of regular oil, pressing it back into Jaskier's palm.
He wiggles a little as he rubs it into his palms and Geralt groans as his cock presses into the mattress, rubbing against the rough fabric of the sheets. Then Jaskier's hands are on him and nothing else matters. Jaskier starts with his thighs, rubbing firmly and working his way up toward his ass. Geralt doesn't know where exactly he expected this to go, but as soon as Jaskier's hands are on his ass, he wants.
He angles his hips a little, pushing his ass into the air and Jaskier scoffs, but continues. Jaskier is very good with his hands and Geralt crosses his arms, pressing his face into the crook of his elbow as Jaskier really presses into the muscle. It's hardly his fault if it makes his cock twitch in the sheets, or if Jaskier's hands set off sparks that skitter along his skin. He's not sure why he's only realizing all of this now, because it's not as though he was never attracted to Jaskier.
Right from the beginning, he'd considered taking him to bed. If Jaskier had pushed just a little further at their first meeting, Geralt would have fucked him over the first available piece of furniture, but he had been surprisingly tame back then, for how much shit Jaskier has since gotten them into with his dick.
But maybe it's the knowing. He's always known Jaskier is attracted to him; it's hard not to when it's only the two of them in the middle of the forest and Jaskier is out there reeking of lust. But this jealousy was something different, something more and Gerlt is curious about it and what it means. Whether it means Jaskier is down to fuck him, either once or whenever they want, or whether he might be interested in more. Because Geralt has never considered having a relationship with anyone since Yen, but Jaskier? Jaskier is always there, always willing to help, and maybe he might stick around. It's not easy when you're constantly travelling, but Jask has been there through it all. So maybe.
Right now, though, Geralt is more interested in testing the first option. He shifts back a little as Jaskier's hands slip inward just a little.
"Hmm, feels nice," Geralt hums and Jaskier just makes an affirmative humming sound at him. "Can you go a little further? Like last time?"
"Last time you had a rash, not a dick problem," Jaskier scoffs. Geralt laughs into his elbow.
"Come on Jask, don't be mad. You fuck everyone who will take you to bed, I'm allowed to have one night. A little more."
Jaskier sighs but relents, running his thumbs along the seam of his ass, squeezing the flesh firmly and pressing the heel of his hands into it. Geralt moans softly, encouragingly, and Jaskier presses a little further.
"That's good," he breathes, not even trying to keep the arousal from his voice, "feels good, Jask. Keep going."
Jaskier does, kneading Geralt's ass and risking slipping a little further between his cheeks. But Geralt's cock is fully hard beneath him now and he can smell the nervousness and jealousy on Jaskier slip away, replaced by blossoming arousal, curiosity.
"Could go a little further," Geralt huffs and Jaskier doesn't hesitate this time, sliding so close to his hole that Geralt can feel it, but he's not close enough.
He pushes his hips back and Jaskier withdraws, keeping at the same place he was before. But Geralt settles like this, legs spread wide and hips pushed back and he's sure Jasikier can see how hard he is like this, but he keeps his mouth shut, the scent of his arousal thickening around them.
Geralt lets him continue like this for a while, the soft teasing touches feel good but his cock aches. He's wet, dripping into the sheets and it wouldn't surprise him if even Jaskier could tell by now, but he still isn't doing anything about it. And he knows Jaskier wants to fuck him, has known for years.
"Jask," he rasps, "that feels good, but you know where I really need it-"
"Geralt-" Jaskier chokes, but he doesn't get further than that.
"Jask, please, it's sore and swollen and I need it."
Jaskier doesn't respond to that but when he shifts, Geralt can feel the hard length of Jaskier's cock against his thigh and then Jaskier's thumb rubs over his hole, cool and slick. Geralt's hips jerk instinctively and Jaskier pulls back a little, but when Geralt settles again, he presses back, more enthusiastic than before. Which only makes Geralt wilder with lust.
"Fuck," he groans, "yeah Jask, like that."
He doesn't have to give further instruction because Jaskier rubs against him, circling his hole and stretching the muscle just around the pad of his thumb. And it feels good. It catches Geralt off guard when Jaskier switches fingers, when he presses in, but Geralt isn't one to complain about getting what he wants, even if this isn't exactly how he was expecting it to go.
"Please," he groans and Jaskier pushes deeper, sliding the tip of his finger into him. "Fuck. Feels good."
"Still sore?" Jaskier asks, but his voice is shaky, unstable.
"Mmm a little, but this is good."
"Good."
Jaskier pushes deeper, testing the stretch before pulling back to rub his hole again. And Geralt buries his face in his arm, shifting again to lift his hips off the bed. Apparently, encouraged, Jaskier slicks up two fingers, rubbing against him and pressing in just a little. He's enjoying this, Geralt realizes, testing his limits but also playing, letting himself have fun with it and that makes him harder than anything, just knowing that Jaskier likes this.
Jaskier pushes two fingers into him incredibly gently and it does burn a little. He wasn't exaggerating about the size of Brenhon's cock or the soreness this morning, but when Jaskier pushes inside him, even when it hurts, it just makes him want more. And as he draws back and rubs him again, the pain dissipates, turning into a need he didn't think he could feel so soon after spending an entire night getting fucked into a bed.
It's not until Jaskier's three fingers deep and Geralt's actively moaning, fucking back onto him, that Jaskier stops. He pulls out gently then smacks Geralt's ass which is… not the punishment he expects Jaskier intends it to be.
"This was a fucking setup, you prick-"
"Jask-
"You just want to get fucked again-
"I know you want it," Geralt hums, turning onto his back and reaching up to brush his fingers down Jaskier's arm. "Come on," he whispers and Jskier just scowls at him, though Geralt catches his eyes slipping to his cock where it rests against his hips. "Jask-"
Geralt reaches up, cupping the side of his face and to his surprise, Jaskier allows himself to be drawn closer and Geralt rises to meet him halfway, pressing his lips to the corner of Jaskier's mouth before pressing in and kissing him properly. For a moment, Jaskier lets himself be kissed, sinks into Geralt's touch, but then he pulls away.
"If you just want a cock to sit on, why don't you go find Bren?"
"And what if I want your cock specifically, hm?" he hums, sliding his free hand down Jaskier's stomach to cup the growing bulge in his trousers. He squeezes gently and leans in so his lips just brush against Jaskier's. "And I think you want me, too."
"Maybe," he mumbles and Geralt grins.
"Then come here," Geralt slides a hand around the back of Jaskier's neck, slipping his fingertips into his hair and tugging him down again. When Jaskier's close enough to feel his breath, Geralt bumps his nose against him. "Come and fuck me, Jask." Jaskier stops short for a second, but when Geralt leans up again, catching his lips in a kiss this time, Jaskier goes with him.
Geralt shifts to lie on his back and Jaskier climbs over him, dropping low to kiss him quick and hard, nipping at his lips and pushing a hand into his hair.
"Turn over," he growls and Geralt moves quickly, rolling back onto his stomach.
When he pushes his hips up, he can feel Jaskier's cock against his thigh and it only encourages him, pushing back and trying to grind against him. But Jaskier doesn't let him take pleasure from it, instead shoving his hips down and moving lower down the bed. He squeezes Geralt's ass with one hand, rubbing over his hole with the other and pushing into him. This time, when Geralt pushes back, Jaskier allows it, shoving deeper into him and Geralt groans, rolling his head forward.
"Fuck," he groans, "yeah, Jask, c'mon."
Jaskier keeps quiet, but presses a second finger into him, flexing this time to stretch him open, and Geralt moans encouragingly.
"Was he good?" Jaskier asks suddenly and Geralt almost thinks he misheard before Jaskier repeats himself. "Bren," he says, "did he fuck you well?"
"Yeah," Geralt breathes because he's not going to lie about it, "yeah he did. But I didn't want him like I want you, Jask."
"Good," Jaskier bites and it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through him.
Geralt's cock twitches under him and Jaskier hauls his hips up before he can press himself into the mattress. He groans but then Jaskier's mouth is on him, licking into him and squeezing his thighs as he pushes his tongue inside.
"You're mine," he rumbles, the low vibration sending shivers up Geralt's spine. "Tell me you're mine."
"Yeah, Jask, yours. Fuck. Come on please-"
"Gonna come?" Jaskier asks and Geralt shakes his head. Jaskier hums against him. "Good, then you can wait."
Geralt feels like he's burning up, so thoroughly overwhelmed by Jaskier's presence and his tenacity. He lets his legs spread wide, giving Jaskier space to reach beneath him and cup his balls in one hand, squeezing gently. His fingers slip forward, curling around his cock and pulling it back between his legs.
"Hmm, hard for me already? Maybe he didn't fuck you properly after all."
"Just want you," Geralt corrects, looking over his shoulder.
Jaskier meets his eyes, dropping down to lick the head of his cock. Geralt squirms and Jaskier sinks down on him, taking as much of him down as he can reach from this angle. Geralt drops to his elbows, pushing his ass up further to encourage Jaskier to take him deeper and, much to his relief and delight, he does. Jaskier winds his tongue around him, sucks hard and pulls up to the head, flicking his tongue at the head and sucking at it before dropping him altogether.
He shifts behind him and then his cock is pressing against his cheeks pushing between them and sliding over his hole. Jaskier mumbles behind him and Geralt tries to focus on the words but he can't think with Jaskier's cock so close to him.
"Please," he groans, "come on Jask, fuck me. Show me how good it can be."
"You want me?" Jaskier asks, squeezing Geralt's ass hard. "Not him?"
"Just you. Please, fuck me."
Jaskier doesn't hesitate, slicking Geralt's hole and the length of his cock before pushing into him, sinking deep with the first thrust and they both shudder as he stalls. Fuck, it's better than Geralt expected, just the knowledge that it's Jaskier inside him, filling him up. It makes him dizzy with need.
He works his hips back in little circles, slowly taking Jaskier deeper until they're flush against each other and Jaskier bends over his back, panting.
"You do look pretty with a cock up your ass," he mumbles and Geralt just groans.
"Glad you're enjoying the view."
Jaskier huffs a laugh and kisses his back before pulling back a little and thrusting deep again. He wastes no time fucking into him hard, hands planted on his hips.
"Did he fuck you like this?" Jaskier asks, "did he take you from behind or did he watch you fall apart beneath him?"
"Both. First time he fucked me against a shed. Then he took me home and fucked me in his bed."
Jaskier bends over him, draping himself over Geralt's back with a growl. He pushes himself deep and ruts into him, his thrusts so shallow he barely withdraws at all. He wraps one arm around him, playing with Geralt's nipples before hauling him back onto him. Geralt winds up in his lap, straddling Jaskier's thighs and he leans against his chest, resting his head back on Jaskier's shoulder.
He presses kisses into his skin, nipping lightly as he reaches up to wrap an arm around the back of his neck. And Jaskier shudders under him, running his hands down his thighs and spreading them wide, holding him down as though there's anywhere Geralt would rather be than sitting on his cock.
Jaskier picks up the pace a little and Geralt can feel that he's getting close. He is too, and when Jaskier's hand wraps around his cock, he jerks into the touch, shocked by the sensation. Jaskier squeezes around him and Geralt whimpers into his skin.
"Please Jask," he whines, "please I'm gonna come-"
"Come for me," Jaskier whispers, rubbing his thumb over the head of Geralt's cock, "come, Geralt."
He does without any further stimulation, jerking in Jaskier's arms and turning to meet him in a bruising kiss. Jaskier nips at his lips, but he's soft and Geralt regrets not kissing him more before this was over. Geralt can feel when Jaskier comes, and even as Geralt's own orgasm fades, Jaskier holds him close, running his hands over him.
Jaskier flops back against the bed and Geralt goes with him. Jaskier sighs and shuts his eyes, running his fingers through Geralt's hair as he catches his breath again. Geralt follows suit, humming at the gentle touch and closing his eyes, just for a second.
Geralt doesn't know when he fell asleep, but it's morning when he wakes up and he's sticky with his own spend and cool in the morning air. The first thing he notices is that the window above him is open a crack, so he reaches up to shut it and abruptly realizes he's alone. Jaskier isn't in bed with him.
Geralt pushes himself up and finds a bath drawn, so Jaskier couldn't have gone far, though it seems too early for him to start performing yet. Geralt crosses to the bath, testing the temperature of the water with his fingers and just as he's pulling his hand back, the door opens.
Jaskier doesn't immediately look at him, but he's carrying a tray with breakfast, so Geralt slips up behind him. He wraps his arms around him and leans down to kiss the back of his neck, but Jaskier pulls away and Geralt's heart sinks.
"What's wrong?" he asks and Jaskier just shrugs him off.
"Have to go soon. I brought breakfast if you want it, but-" he makes to pull away but Geralt grabs him by the arm, a little harder than he intends to. As Jaskier turns to him, he softens his hold and drops Jaskier's arm.
"Do we… need to talk about this?"
"I don't know, Geralt, do we?"
"Uh, yeah. What's wrong?"
"Listen, what happened last night-"
"Was incredible," Geralt interrupts, "fuck, it's been a long time since I've come that hard."
"Right, but it was…" he can smell the mess of emotions whirling in Jaskier's head and he doesn't want to hear the next words out of his mouth, so he offers them himself.
"A mistake?" Geralt offers.
Jaskier sighs.
"No, because I don't regret it, but it can't happen again."
"Why not?" Geralt's chest aches. If he had thought Jaskier wouldn't want him again, he wouldn't have pressed. "If you want it and I want it-"
"Do you want it, though? Or do you just enjoy watching me squirm?"
"Both?" Geralt asks, grinning. Jaskiser's expression doesn't fade and Geralt drops his smile. "Hey," he whispers, "I'm yours Jask if you want me. But I didn't think you wanted me that way."
Jaskier sighs and drops onto the edge of the bed.
"Geralt I lost the fucking competition because I couldn't stop thinking about another guy fucking you. Because I hated the thought of you with him, hated the thought of him touching you-"
"Never knew you had a jealous streak."
"Fuck off."
"Jask," Geralt whispers, "Brenhon was a great fuck, but it didn't mean anything. That's all he was. Tell me last night didn't feel different for you."
Jaskier looks up hesitantly at him. "Yeah, I've never- I'm sorry actually, I'm not normally so-"
"Possessive?" Geralt asks, taking a step closer, "I kind of liked that actually. Not often someone wants to prove I'm theirs." He cautiously settles his hands on Jaskier's hips and when Jaskier doesn't pull away, he brings him in, walking them closer together.
"But if you really want to prove it, why don't you join me in the bath, hm?" He leans in, brushing his lips against the shell of his ear and he doesn't miss the way Jaskier shivers under him. "Come have a bath and then you can fuck me again if you want? Mark me up so everyone can know I'm yours."
"Fuck, Geralt. Yeah."
Geralt tugs him as he takes a step backward and Jaskier follows him toward the tub. Somewhere in the middle, he takes control, pressing Geralt back until his knees hit the edge of the tub. Geralt obediently steps in and sits down, spreading his legs wide for Jaskier to slip between. Jaskier undresses quickly and steps into the tub, settling on his knees between Geralt's thighs.
"I'm all yours," Geralt breathes, tipping to kiss him briefly before spreading his arms and leaning back against the wall of the tub.
"Careful," Jaskier hums, "I'll mark you up so good no one will ever touch you again."
"No one else?" he clarified and Jaskier smirks.
"No one but me."
"Good," Geralt breathes, as Jaskier leans in to kiss him, "I'd like that very much.