[ Nah, Jaskier disagrees. They should be doing this, preferably every day.
And it's a show of trust that he comes to Geralt without arguing at the request. He gets within react, smiling and itching to reach out to grab at Geralt's shirt.]
[Everything is settled within the camp and Geralt can't stop the very tiny smirk on his lips. It is not wise to keep having sex with the bard, but it also is extremely easy and less costly than prostitutes. He hmms and reaches out to snag Jaskier's hips and tug him closer.]
[ Jaskier would huff if he knew Geralt is still thinking about what they do in terms of practicality and convenience. He wouldn't really complain, though, happy to accept what the other man gives him because he knows he's stupidly hopeless like that. ]
Hah. [ The bard has the gall to look proud at that answer. He leans in against the broad chest, chin tilting up. ] Good thing I have you to keep me out of it.
[Geralt prefers to think that way. If he thinks too much about why he still does it even when there are willing women around, it goes in directions he prefers not to. He has told himself multiple times now that this time was the last, but he is sincerely stupid as can be when it comes to sex. Jaskier's excellent in bed, a fact he refuses to communicate to an ego such as his, but it's unspoken since he keeps ending up in him before too long.
He tilts Jaskier's head to the side and nuzzles underneath his ear, breathing him in deeply to let his familiar scent settle over him. He can smell him a fair distance away, as he just proved.] You know what you smell like, bard? [Geralt lifts his head to look down at him with glowing gold eyes, fingers lifting to touch the faded bruises under Jaskier's shirt. He really does try to keep them hidable, but one or two usually gets through.] Me.
[ Jaskier's own worried are of a similar vein yet completely different. He keeps telling himself not to read to much into what they do, to keep it fun and light and without attachments because otherwise, one day Geralt will leave him with a heart full of broken shards.
Now, with the man's nose buried on his neck and the strong hands on him, Jaskier makes a small and content noise that he will argue it's definitely not a moan. Smelling and scenting him in return are one of those things that confused Jaskier at first and then it left him entirely too pleased. He isn't fully sure why the Witcher does it, if it's in part to annoy him or because Geralt likes to state a claim about what is his. The bard likes to think it's the latter and so he lets Geralt do what he wants to do, angling his head to present more of his neck to him. ]
Ah, I suppose that's why Roach seems to like me more lately. [ There's a tremble in Jaskier's voice even as he tries to still seemed composed and unaffected by the intensity of those golden eyes. He goes pliant in the man’s hands, shuddering lightly when they brush over the bruises. It doesn't take him more than a heartbeat to lean into the touch. It's also a little bit embarrassing how quickly Geralt can undo him. In retaliation and because he can, Jaskier's hands slide around the Witcher's waist and then down some more until he can give his pretty, tight arse a squeeze. He looks entirely too pleased about it too. ]
[Geralt has some lines that once they are crossed he'll get skittish. Jealousy, for example. He already marks up Jaskier far more than he should, but if he starts getting outwardly possessive, he'll know he's gone too far. He cares, that he's reluctantly accepted. He cared before they had sex, every time he anxiously would rescue Jaskier from danger or look out for the bard in subtle ways too. He doesn't want to be reminded of how fragile a mortal life is. Jaskier is very alive at the moment. Alive and warm and soft in his arms.
The scenting is very specific to his witcher side, which he typically hates paying heed to as it sets him so far apart. He knows what he is and he's accepted that long ago, but sometimes he gets wary about the differences. Jaskier's lack of fear of him made him willing to show some of those traits. Yennefer knows very well about that side of him, but they are two of a kind. He keeps wondering if the bard will be able to accept all parts of him, and he keeps proving that he does, and yet Geralt doubts.
Geralt's amused at the grab of his ass, huff-almost-chuckling at it, and he puts an arm around Jaskier's middle, leading him backwards closer to the fire but not too quick so he can keep his handful if he'd like. While he's always been a rough and passionately quick lover, he's tried to take his time more, as he does now. He undoes Jaskier's shirt and pulls it off, seeing all of his marks so very prettily on his skin.]
Hmmm. [He says pensively, looking down at his bard, before deciding to slide down onto his knees in front of him. His lips brush his stomach and he slowly works on his pants.] You said a good apology. [Geralt is aggressive and dominant most of the time, but he can be very giving too, given the chance.]
[ If it helps Geralt any, because it sure doesn't help Jaskier, the bard stopped indulging in his usual sexual rendezvous when this not-thing between them started. Oh, he still likes the attention, performs for any audience that will listen to him and chats up with lords and ladies...but he keeps it's professional and friendly. If they show any interest in him beyond his musical talents, he politely excuses himself or turns them down.
Of course, there are always people who don't want to accept a no for an answer, especially those in positions of power. Those are the times Jaskier chooses to stands closer to Geralt, he makes a good bodyguard even if he doesn't know exactly what he's guarding the younger man from. He doesn't think Geralt might have noticed that he stopped sleeping around, hopes so, at least. It's embarrassing enough to know how bad he got it for the Witcher, the last thing he wants is to make it even more obvious.
What he wants is to have Geralt all over him, inside him, either kissing him or fucking him or....or in his knees? Now that's new. Jaskier has let the man move them to where he wanted to be, let him take off his shirt and has been pulling at Geralt's one in return when suddenly the Witcher moved out of his reach and lips were brushing his stomach. ]
I...I did. [ He makes an embarrassing sound, like a surprised and needy whimper, and his hand reaches out to bury itself on Geralt's hair. ] But only if you meant it.
[ 'Only if you want it', The bard means. Jaskier knows that Geralt doesn't act if he doesn't feel like it, but he's giving the Witcher an out because he doesn't want this to be some sort of payment even if the 'apology' complains started as a joke. But damn, does Geralt look good between his knees and Jaskier's cock twitches in his pants, already half hard. ]
[Geralt only notices that Jaskier's gotten into less trouble with jilted husbands. He hasn't had to come to his rescue that way in some time. He probably should notice, considering he can smell people on Jaskier if there are any, if he wants to, and lately he's wanted to. He hasn't slept with anyone else either, but that is not unusual for Geralt. When he gets the itch he goes to a whore or a curious woman, and there hasn't been a need for one of those. His itches are scratched enough by the bard he doesn't have to go looking. Intellectually he knows it's a problem that he keeps letting this happen, and yet here he is, on his knees. Hungry.
He tends to be very in control, tossing the bard around to his whims, but this is a whim too. The most noise he likes out of Jaskier is in bed, when he's gasping, begging, needy. He needs it again now. Geralt can almost hear the true statement behind the words but he doesn't like when people say one thing and mean another. He never does anything he doesn't want. That's the benefit of being dangerous and giant.]
I don't do anything I don't mean. [Or that I don't want. He enjoys the hand in his hair, peeling Jaskier's pants off and immediately nosing his way against his half-hard cock. He licks it into hardness, rolling his tongue around the tip and tasting him. He snarls at that and puts one hand firmly on his ass, squeezing, and the other holds Jaskier at the base. He doesn't do this often to men, but it isn't as if he forgets how. He tugs Jaskier forward, forcing him to thrust into his hot ready mouth, and he hums in appreciation.
Gods if the bard isn't made for this. For him. He allows himself to have thoughts like this when they're in the middle of sex, telling himself it's common word play or possessiveness. He cannot deny they are good at this. Geralt takes him enthusiastically into his mouth, bobbing and encouraging him to keep thrusting forward. He assumes Jaskier needs reassurance from him to know he can fuck his mouth; it's dangerous to put a cock near his teeth if he doesn't like it. But he likes it.]
[ That's another advantage of keeping his interest focused on one person alone, there's no angry husbands (and occasional wives) angrily trying to kill him. As far as Jaskier knows, sharing his life with Geralt had only brought him good things, minus the occasional scar here and there. He doesn't want to think about the bad times, their fights and disagreements, especially not now that Geralt's mouth is oh so very close to his hardened cock. ]
Ah, fuck..okay, good. [ It's pretty much all the reassurance he needed to confirm they are on the same page, hell, reading the same book. Jaskier's back arches forward, the hand that's not buried on Geralt's hair sliding over the muscular back. It would be better if the man's shirt were off too but the bard works with what he has. His hand still manages to sneak under the back of Geralt's shirt collar to scratch between his shoulder blades.
He swallows harshly, legs parting forward to give his lover more room to move, biting back a curse when the Geralt's mouth swallows him deeply and invites him to thrust his hips forward. Which is definitely counting as awesome relationship progress in Jaskier's books. Soft moans that increase in volume drop from his lips along with small whimpers, Geralt's name and praise about his mouth, his body, his eyes. Gods, he loves those eyes so much. Jaskier starts rocking his hips some more, aiming for a rhythm that works for Geralt, and tugs at the white hair when one particularly skilled swipe of that hot tongue leaves him keening. ]
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givingexposition) wrote2020-01-03 11:55 pm
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True but consider this...you need to find me first.
[ Considering how good is Geralt's sense of smell, it shouldn't be hard but Jaskier is in playful mood. Chase me, he's all but saying. ]
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[ Then again, Jaskier is just hanging out by the river that's a few minutes away from their camp, so it's not like he's trying too hard to hide. ]
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Bollocks.
Damn your witchery senses, that's cheating.
[ But he's coming back to camp, pouting as little as he goes. ]
Rivers are nice and all but I'm not that much of an exhibitionist.
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I still need to figure out if you can get Hickeys that last at least a day.
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I'll have to be the only one bearing the proud marks then.
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I can smell you. Come here.
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And it's a show of trust that he comes to Geralt without arguing at the request. He gets within react, smiling and itching to reach out to grab at Geralt's shirt.]
And what do I smell like?
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Trouble.
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Hah. [ The bard has the gall to look proud at that answer. He leans in against the broad chest, chin tilting up. ] Good thing I have you to keep me out of it.
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He tilts Jaskier's head to the side and nuzzles underneath his ear, breathing him in deeply to let his familiar scent settle over him. He can smell him a fair distance away, as he just proved.] You know what you smell like, bard? [Geralt lifts his head to look down at him with glowing gold eyes, fingers lifting to touch the faded bruises under Jaskier's shirt. He really does try to keep them hidable, but one or two usually gets through.] Me.
[Primally, he loves it.]
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Now, with the man's nose buried on his neck and the strong hands on him, Jaskier makes a small and content noise that he will argue it's definitely not a moan. Smelling and scenting him in return are one of those things that confused Jaskier at first and then it left him entirely too pleased. He isn't fully sure why the Witcher does it, if it's in part to annoy him or because Geralt likes to state a claim about what is his. The bard likes to think it's the latter and so he lets Geralt do what he wants to do, angling his head to present more of his neck to him. ]
Ah, I suppose that's why Roach seems to like me more lately. [ There's a tremble in Jaskier's voice even as he tries to still seemed composed and unaffected by the intensity of those golden eyes.
He goes pliant in the man’s hands, shuddering lightly when they brush over the bruises. It doesn't take him more than a heartbeat to lean into the touch. It's also a little bit embarrassing how quickly Geralt can undo him. In retaliation and because he can, Jaskier's hands slide around the Witcher's waist and then down some more until he can give his pretty, tight arse a squeeze. He looks entirely too pleased about it too. ]
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The scenting is very specific to his witcher side, which he typically hates paying heed to as it sets him so far apart. He knows what he is and he's accepted that long ago, but sometimes he gets wary about the differences. Jaskier's lack of fear of him made him willing to show some of those traits. Yennefer knows very well about that side of him, but they are two of a kind. He keeps wondering if the bard will be able to accept all parts of him, and he keeps proving that he does, and yet Geralt doubts.
Geralt's amused at the grab of his ass, huff-almost-chuckling at it, and he puts an arm around Jaskier's middle, leading him backwards closer to the fire but not too quick so he can keep his handful if he'd like. While he's always been a rough and passionately quick lover, he's tried to take his time more, as he does now. He undoes Jaskier's shirt and pulls it off, seeing all of his marks so very prettily on his skin.]
Hmmm. [He says pensively, looking down at his bard, before deciding to slide down onto his knees in front of him. His lips brush his stomach and he slowly works on his pants.] You said a good apology. [Geralt is aggressive and dominant most of the time, but he can be very giving too, given the chance.]
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Of course, there are always people who don't want to accept a no for an answer, especially those in positions of power. Those are the times Jaskier chooses to stands closer to Geralt, he makes a good bodyguard even if he doesn't know exactly what he's guarding the younger man from. He doesn't think Geralt might have noticed that he stopped sleeping around, hopes so, at least. It's embarrassing enough to know how bad he got it for the Witcher, the last thing he wants is to make it even more obvious.
What he wants is to have Geralt all over him, inside him, either kissing him or fucking him or....or in his knees? Now that's new. Jaskier has let the man move them to where he wanted to be, let him take off his shirt and has been pulling at Geralt's one in return when suddenly the Witcher moved out of his reach and lips were brushing his stomach. ]
I...I did. [ He makes an embarrassing sound, like a surprised and needy whimper, and his hand reaches out to bury itself on Geralt's hair. ] But only if you meant it.
[ 'Only if you want it', The bard means. Jaskier knows that Geralt doesn't act if he doesn't feel like it, but he's giving the Witcher an out because he doesn't want this to be some sort of payment even if the 'apology' complains started as a joke. But damn, does Geralt look good between his knees and Jaskier's cock twitches in his pants, already half hard. ]
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He tends to be very in control, tossing the bard around to his whims, but this is a whim too. The most noise he likes out of Jaskier is in bed, when he's gasping, begging, needy. He needs it again now. Geralt can almost hear the true statement behind the words but he doesn't like when people say one thing and mean another. He never does anything he doesn't want. That's the benefit of being dangerous and giant.]
I don't do anything I don't mean. [Or that I don't want. He enjoys the hand in his hair, peeling Jaskier's pants off and immediately nosing his way against his half-hard cock. He licks it into hardness, rolling his tongue around the tip and tasting him. He snarls at that and puts one hand firmly on his ass, squeezing, and the other holds Jaskier at the base. He doesn't do this often to men, but it isn't as if he forgets how. He tugs Jaskier forward, forcing him to thrust into his hot ready mouth, and he hums in appreciation.
Gods if the bard isn't made for this. For him. He allows himself to have thoughts like this when they're in the middle of sex, telling himself it's common word play or possessiveness. He cannot deny they are good at this. Geralt takes him enthusiastically into his mouth, bobbing and encouraging him to keep thrusting forward. He assumes Jaskier needs reassurance from him to know he can fuck his mouth; it's dangerous to put a cock near his teeth if he doesn't like it. But he likes it.]
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Ah, fuck..okay, good. [ It's pretty much all the reassurance he needed to confirm they are on the same page, hell, reading the same book. Jaskier's back arches forward, the hand that's not buried on Geralt's hair sliding over the muscular back. It would be better if the man's shirt were off too but the bard works with what he has. His hand still manages to sneak under the back of Geralt's shirt collar to scratch between his shoulder blades.
He swallows harshly, legs parting forward to give his lover more room to move, biting back a curse when the Geralt's mouth swallows him deeply and invites him to thrust his hips forward. Which is definitely counting as awesome relationship progress in Jaskier's books. Soft moans that increase in volume drop from his lips along with small whimpers, Geralt's name and praise about his mouth, his body, his eyes. Gods, he loves those eyes so much. Jaskier starts rocking his hips some more, aiming for a rhythm that works for Geralt, and tugs at the white hair when one particularly skilled swipe of that hot tongue leaves him keening. ]
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