[Really, Geralt is still growing used to the idea of having mornings like this one, of being able to enjoy moments rather than constantly be on the move. It's nice to know they can still share these softer moments before going about their days, just before facing the reality of the outside world, whether on the other side of a tent or inn or even a cave.
Of course Jaskier protests even when half asleep, and Geralt finds himself smiling when the man turns to bury against him like a petulant child. His arm lifts and rests down again to accommodate, fingers now stroking down the length of Jaskier's spine instead.]
Funny, didn't think unconscious people could answer questions. [He jests quietly, lifting his chin enough to tuck the other man's head underneath. Fine, maybe they can stay like this a few more minutes.]
[ Jaskier doesn't answer, instead, he bites Geralt's chest lightly, blunt teeth not causing any damage, and attempts to burrows further into him. There's no place to go and Geralt is already as wrapped around him as it gets and the bard makes another happy sound. ]
The sun rises too early, it should be illegal...
[ He realizes he's being childish but he can't bring himself to care, at least for another five minutes. He does place a kiss on Geralt's shoulder after the witcher rests his chin on his head, as an apology. The touches to his back make the corner of his lips tug into a smile as he takes some slow, deep breaths and keeps his eyes open. ]
You smell nice. [ A pause, the smile on Jaskier's lips now unmistakeable in the tone of his voice. ] You smell of me.
[Chuckling quietly, Geralt lets his hand wander under the flimsy sheet of their travel sleeping kit, down past Jaskier's lower back and over his rear in silent appraisal. There's likely bruises on his hips from last night so he's careful not to press too hard, palm slipping under a thigh to stroke and pull up over his own. He's feeling the need to get closer too.]
Hmmm... [He hums lowly at the kisses, nearly feeling the smile from the bard. It's enough to calm Geralt and make him feel at ease that this was the right choice after all.]
I could say the same of you. [He mutters quietly, fingers drawing idle circles and shapes across the back of Jaskier's thigh and up his hip.] You like it?
Careful, Witcher, or I'll have another reason for not letting you leave this bed. [ The words are a hushed whisper against Geralt's neck, followed by Jaskier kissing and nipping at the skin.
He's more awake all of sudden, go figure, thanks to Geralt's hands roaming over his skin. He returns the touches, fingers running up Geralt's side, shifting his leg as the other invites him to do, and grinding their bodies close. Reluctantly, he lifts his head from under Geralt's head to meet his eye, looking at the man as if he is the sun. ]
I do. More so because I know it doesn't last long due to the life we lead.
[Bodies pressed together, he feels warm and comfortable, enough to not want to roll out of bed either. He can hear Roach eating outside, the birds already wide awake and going about their day, a nearby stream flowing from the river just yards ahead, and here they are in the quiet of their little tent, Jaskier's voice still thick from sleep. It's all very peaceful.]
Maybe I don't want to leave either. [The intimate touches are nice and Geralt hums again at the small nips and kisses, fingers drifting upward toward the other's rear again to rest a palm against. Completely intentional.
The way Jaskier looks up at him is still new and Geralt feels a stirring in his chest every damn time. He meets that gaze with his own, calm and searching. How often do people see Geralt so relaxed?]
I suppose we could simply not bathe... [He's kidding but spoken so matter-of-factly.]
[ The morning sounds are not something Jaskier always appreciates because it means he has to abandon the comfort of their bedrolls and get moving, but today it sounds sweet, relaxing. And then Geralt had to open his mouth and ruin it. Jaskier laughs and bats at his arm. ]
Not a chance! The bard announces, looking horrified at the mere suggestion.
[ The effect is ruined when he moves over Geralt to straddle his thighs, the blanked falling down his body with the movement. He shudders for a second when the cold air hits his skin but another part of his anatomy is still very warm and grinding down on his lover. Reaching down, Jaskier places Geralt's hands back on is ass and then runs his own down the man's chest, leaning in and pressing their lips together. ]
[Geralt actually chuckles quietly when Jaskier moves to straddle him, determined as ever. The sound is warm and his smile subtle but genuine, staring up at the other with his sleep tousled hair and bright eyes so early in the morning. The light filtering through the tent is more than enough for him to see clearly.]
Then one last chance to get dirty again first. [Seems like a fair compromise. Geralt happily rests his hands over Jaskier's ass and gives it a good squeeze before falling into that kiss, humming contentedly as he urges movement from hips onward. The kiss is slow and lingering, Geralt's hips rocking up to meet Jaskier's in an attempt to keep the warmth flowing through them both.]
[ Geralt got him properly awake and moving, he should count that as a win. Awake, moving and very naked on top of him. So double win at that.
Jaskier takes the time to look down at Geralt too, the way the muted light catches on the white hair, how it makes his gold eyes look softer, warmer. These are the kind of moments he doesn't put into a song, the moments he treasures in his chest because it's between them alone. ]
I'll take it. [ The bard replies cheerfully, messy fringe falling over his forehead before he's too busy with Geralt's mouth to speak again.
He rocks his hips back against his partner, moans thanks to the hand squeezing his ass, and then sneaks a hand down Geralt's abs. He playing with his belly button for a little while, circling it before dipping a finger inside, and then slides his hand lower until it wraps around Geralt's cock to give it a few tugs. ]
[Everything feels extra heightened first thing in the morning so even the simplest of touches near his stomach and navel have Geralt's senses on edge, arousal pooling in his gut by the time a hand wraps around his length. Groaning softly against Jaskier's mouth, he pushes hips up into the touch in slow, rocking motions, feeling himself getting harder by the second. The fact that they're almost always still this wanting first thing in the morning is no coincidence.
One of Geralt's hands keeps its grip on Jaskier's rear while the other sneaks between them to touch his cock as well, wanting to share the pleasure. Geralt's hand is warm and grips him with confident strokes, thumb pressing up along to the tip with each upward motion.]
Remind me... to rile you up like this first thing in the morning more often. [Murmured against Jaskier's mouth with a light smirk, his thumb pressing over the head of his cock as he rubs in slow, meaningful circles there.]
[ Jaskier's can't imagine a day when he wouldn't be wishing for Geralt's touch. Having now this gift, the chance to explore and touch and be touched in return is not one he's ever going to take for granted. But is one he's going to exploit to his heart content.
His hand starts slower than Geralt's, letting him get used to the friction, moving from base to the tip, fingers twisting over the head to gather the pre-come pooling in there. It eases the movement of his palm on the way down, slicking it. His dick goes full under Geralt's touch and Jaskier makes a soft noise, torn between a groan and a whimper. His legs squeeze powerful thighs and his free hand wanders over Geralt's pecs, fingers curling around the surprisingly soft hairs before he gives a firmer grope. ]
You have permission to wake me up at the ass crack of dawn if this is what is going to happen. [ His lips curve against the other man's mouth, giving him small kisses, almost lazy. He's moaning and shuddering a moment later, thanks to a particularly skilled shift of Geralt's wrist that causes hot pressure against the head of his cock. ]
Hnng. You have such nice, big hands. I bet you could...we could.... [ Jaskier doesn't finish but it's like a light-bulb goes on in his head. He looks down at Geralt with renewed intensity before he's letting go of the man's cock one last squeeze.
Jaskier is pawing at Geralt's hand with some silent regret, trying to coach the man to uncurl his finger from his own cock. He mutters a quick 'Just trust me with this, dear' before the Witcher can protest and rubs their hardness together, wrapping a hand around both of their cocks and rocking his hips. Silky, hot skin slides and press over each other and fucks if it doesn't feel better. ]
[One thing that surprised Geralt when they started to fool around (and probably shouldn't have considering Jaskier's track record) was how insatiable Jaskier can be. His need to touch and be touched is beyond what Geralt's accustomed to, but he picked up on it quickly and realized it wasn't always the need to be sexual. When the desire does hit though he's quite demanding and expressive, and Geralt enjoys both.
Like now, those small sounds and inspired touches helping Geralt get harder in his hand as well. He's content to continue as they are, stroking and kissing until they're both satisfied on such a lazy morning, but then Jaskier is inspired with another idea and takes control of his hand. Geralt nearly protests when he's forced to let go... before realizing what he's doing.
Oh. Yes. He can work with this.
Geralt's fingers wrap around them both and he gives a gentle squeeze with the rocking motion of Jaskier's hips that send sparks of pleasure through them, the friction hitting just right. He grunts and huffs out a pleasured breath as his own hips begin moving upward as well, his grip remaining steady as they slowly rub and squeeze together.]
Fuck... [He curses quietly against Jaskier's mouth, his free hand coming up to paw at the back of his neck and hold him near.] You're going to make a mess.
[ The bard has always had a high sex drive, that much is true. He likes to enjoy all that life and people have to offer: singing, drinking, dancing, fucking...it's what makes life worth living. But hell if being around Geralt didn't make him stupidly horny for all the unusual reasons. He likes to touch the man more than he ever wanted to be with anyone else, it's almost as if Jaskier can't believe he's got so lucky, that he can't get enough of Geralt's presence. The crueler people are to his Witcher, the more Jaskier wants ot cover his face with kisses and kind touches, the more he wants to tell him how impressed he is at Geralt's bravery and loyalty. How much he loves him.
The last words, he manages to keep to himself. It might be too sentimental for Geralt liking and, despite the affection Jaskier has for him, he knows the man could break him easily just with words. That possible rejection is ever-present because it had always been in Jaskier's life and history often repeats itself. That is also a kind of worry that isn't suited for these early hours in the morning. Jaskier usually reserves it for the nights where Geralt is gone hunting some evil and he fears the man will not return. Not because he lost the battle but because he decided Jaskier was too much of a handful to deal with and chose another path, free of him.
But it's morning now, the dim light chasing the doubts away and the thrumming pleasure running through his bodies going in crescendo. Geralt realizes what he wants to do and he swears, bringing a charmed smile to the bard's face. The hand gripping his nape is a solid weight that he's come to love having on him. They rut and shudder against each other and Jaskier feels like laughing from how stupidly happy it makes him to have the chance to ride Geralt like this. ]
Yes. You're welcome. [ He gasps into Geralt's mouth and rolls his hips in a most promising fashion, dragging their cock together, still trapped into their firm hold. It's going to be messy and fast and good. With his free hand, Jaskier combs his fingers through Geralt's hair, gets a fistful, and pulls hard while kissing the man fiercely. ]
[Geralt already made the mistake of intentionally isolating Jaskier once and the damage was done at the time, apologies long since given and accepted, but still a reality that they've faced. Geralt has not always been the kindest friend even when his intentions were good. Perhaps it was inevitable that one day they'd come to this end result but he hopes however long it may last, there are no regrets in the aftermath for either party. Who knows if they'll last weeks or years.
If they had more time and resources out in the woods Geralt would have Jaskier ride him proper but this'll do for a quick morning together. Somehow it feels more intimate, offering more room to kiss and get lost in one another's mouths and touches. Geralt's hand is slick from them both but he keeps his grip steady as they rut up into one another, imagining the tightness akin to Jaskier's body, and that stray thought urges another guttural moan from him.
The tug on hair only adds to the sparking pleasure and his own grip on Jaskier's nape tightens, bucking up harder into the solid hold of his own hand and Jaskier's cock. He'll be a mess by the end of this but it doesn't even matter, he doesn't dare stop, tugging their cocks along with the natural push and pull from their hips. A heady moan is muffled against Jaskier's mouth and Geralt's breathing grows more clearly labored by the second. His free hand eventually lets go in favor of gripping Jaskier's ass again, palm sliding over the smooth flesh with a roughness akin to how desperate he is right now.]
[ There were a lot of mistakes made back then, and the words did leave a wound on the bard that cut him to the bone. He's learned to live with it, to deal with the metaphorical scar tissue and move on. Being with Geralt was never going to be easy, he knew that from the beginning, but the Witcher was hurt at the time as well, lashing out, and Jaskier accepted the apologies once things had calmed down. They're making up for all the lost time now, new good memories to replace the bad ones, and he tries to focus on the present and not worry about a possible end.
Jaskier has almost forgotten why are they even up this early, not like Geralt sleeps much. Something about training, his hazy mind offers as he rolls his hips at a quicker pace. Jaskier shudders when Geralt grunts, answering with a more meek whimper of his own, his pleasure just as intense. They're slick with pre-cum and Geralt's hands are rough from decades of wielding swords, adding just the right kind of edge. Another moan is stiffened against the Witcher's mouth and Jaskier pulls away only a hair breath, panting and arching his back. ]
Geralt, I won...ah...won't last long...
[ He keens when the hand grabbing his nape moves to his ass, feeling as desperate as Geralt. Even then, Jaskier smiles at him through half-opened eyes because his lover looks so beautiful in this moment, a wild thing, primal and untamed, and the bard is getting drunk on their shared pleasure. And so Jaskier tells him, words murmured in a rasp voice against the skin of his ear, low and loving, their cheeks brushing together, chest pressed close as he still sways his hips to try and push Geralt over the edge with him. ]
[How many more mornings like this will be in their future? It's hard to say, but Geralt hopes that they'll remain on good terms for however long this thing lasts. It took them this long for Geralt to accept a friendship let alone something more. The last thing he wants is to break Jaskier's heart.
As he presses down closer Geralt urges the movement with rolls of his hips too, jerking up in a steady beat to meet the way Jaskier slides them together. His grip remains steady and Geralt tips his head back with the building pleasure, grunting low in his throat at the whispers in his ear.]
C'mon... C'mon... [The urgency in his voice is just as low and breathless, the way their bodies rub and grind together adding bursts of pleasure where his hand squeezes. Geralt feels his arousal build to a point of no return and the desperation in his own thrusts increase, knowing he's close, stroking and rubbing until they both run over that edge together.]
[ Plenty of mornings, if Jaskier has any saying in it. It's maybe and impossible dream, a wish too difficult to fulfill, but he's waited so many years to be with Geralt, to be properly together, that he doesn't want to waste a moment. He leans in, kissing the man's collarbone one las time before groaning low in his throat, forehead now against Geralt's shoulder as he shudders all over.
Matching orgasm exists more in the realms of perfect stories and occasionally raunchy ballads. They hardly happen in real life although it's not for lack of trying from the participants. But they still do happen and Jaskier finds himself rising to his peak at the same time as Geralt, the Witcher's name dropping from his lips like a prayer. Their chests are pressed close, rutting into each other almost like animals, cocks sliding together, and Jaskier bucks up against Geralt as they ride out the delightful waves. He can feel every spasm, every hot spurs between them, it feels so good that he thinks he must let out an actual sob.
He's always oversensitive after coming, more than Geralt at any rate, skin feeling hot and limbs loose. He stops rolling his hips slowly, hands reaching up to cup Geralt's face and press their foreheads together as they catch their breath. He takes a deep breath through his nose, basking in the scent that is just Geralt, the kind of smell he associates comfort, with adventures during the day and love during the nights. They would soon have to get up, and clean their mess away, start training (ugh!) but for now he's too happy and relaxed to move. ]
[The simplest acts can sometimes feel the best, and somehow Jaskier makes something as easy as a handjob feel incredible and intimate. Maybe it's because Geralt's feelings have changed so drastically, or maybe because this is still all so new. Whatever the case, he doesn't want it to stop.
His hand slows its strokes and eases on the harder grip when they both begin to calm down, breathing hard and hearts beating wildly. He's well aware of how sensitive Jaskier can get so he eventually lets go in favor of letting them rest like this, the bard on top of him despite the mess and sweat. Geralt hums a contented sound when their foreheads touch and he closes his eyes, breathing in the moment just the same.
Yes, they'll have to get up, rinse off, and get to the rest of their day, but right now he's happy to revel in this moment a while longer. Their small tent feels like a whole other world.]
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givingexposition) wrote2020-01-03 11:55 pm
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Of course Jaskier protests even when half asleep, and Geralt finds himself smiling when the man turns to bury against him like a petulant child. His arm lifts and rests down again to accommodate, fingers now stroking down the length of Jaskier's spine instead.]
Funny, didn't think unconscious people could answer questions. [He jests quietly, lifting his chin enough to tuck the other man's head underneath. Fine, maybe they can stay like this a few more minutes.]
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The sun rises too early, it should be illegal...
[ He realizes he's being childish but he can't bring himself to care, at least for another five minutes. He does place a kiss on Geralt's shoulder after the witcher rests his chin on his head, as an apology. The touches to his back make the corner of his lips tug into a smile as he takes some slow, deep breaths and keeps his eyes open. ]
You smell nice. [ A pause, the smile on Jaskier's lips now unmistakeable in the tone of his voice. ] You smell of me.
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Hmmm... [He hums lowly at the kisses, nearly feeling the smile from the bard. It's enough to calm Geralt and make him feel at ease that this was the right choice after all.]
I could say the same of you. [He mutters quietly, fingers drawing idle circles and shapes across the back of Jaskier's thigh and up his hip.] You like it?
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He's more awake all of sudden, go figure, thanks to Geralt's hands roaming over his skin. He returns the touches, fingers running up Geralt's side, shifting his leg as the other invites him to do, and grinding their bodies close. Reluctantly, he lifts his head from under Geralt's head to meet his eye, looking at the man as if he is the sun. ]
I do. More so because I know it doesn't last long due to the life we lead.
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Maybe I don't want to leave either. [The intimate touches are nice and Geralt hums again at the small nips and kisses, fingers drifting upward toward the other's rear again to rest a palm against. Completely intentional.
The way Jaskier looks up at him is still new and Geralt feels a stirring in his chest every damn time. He meets that gaze with his own, calm and searching. How often do people see Geralt so relaxed?]
I suppose we could simply not bathe... [He's kidding but spoken so matter-of-factly.]
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[ The morning sounds are not something Jaskier always appreciates because it means he has to abandon the comfort of their bedrolls and get moving, but today it sounds sweet, relaxing. And then Geralt had to open his mouth and ruin it. Jaskier laughs and bats at his arm. ]
Not a chance! The bard announces, looking horrified at the mere suggestion.
[ The effect is ruined when he moves over Geralt to straddle his thighs, the blanked falling down his body with the movement. He shudders for a second when the cold air hits his skin but another part of his anatomy is still very warm and grinding down on his lover. Reaching down, Jaskier places Geralt's hands back on is ass and then runs his own down the man's chest, leaning in and pressing their lips together. ]
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Then one last chance to get dirty again first. [Seems like a fair compromise. Geralt happily rests his hands over Jaskier's ass and gives it a good squeeze before falling into that kiss, humming contentedly as he urges movement from hips onward. The kiss is slow and lingering, Geralt's hips rocking up to meet Jaskier's in an attempt to keep the warmth flowing through them both.]
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Jaskier takes the time to look down at Geralt too, the way the muted light catches on the white hair, how it makes his gold eyes look softer, warmer. These are the kind of moments he doesn't put into a song, the moments he treasures in his chest because it's between them alone. ]
I'll take it. [ The bard replies cheerfully, messy fringe falling over his forehead before he's too busy with Geralt's mouth to speak again.
He rocks his hips back against his partner, moans thanks to the hand squeezing his ass, and then sneaks a hand down Geralt's abs. He playing with his belly button for a little while, circling it before dipping a finger inside, and then slides his hand lower until it wraps around Geralt's cock to give it a few tugs. ]
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One of Geralt's hands keeps its grip on Jaskier's rear while the other sneaks between them to touch his cock as well, wanting to share the pleasure. Geralt's hand is warm and grips him with confident strokes, thumb pressing up along to the tip with each upward motion.]
Remind me... to rile you up like this first thing in the morning more often. [Murmured against Jaskier's mouth with a light smirk, his thumb pressing over the head of his cock as he rubs in slow, meaningful circles there.]
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His hand starts slower than Geralt's, letting him get used to the friction, moving from base to the tip, fingers twisting over the head to gather the pre-come pooling in there. It eases the movement of his palm on the way down, slicking it. His dick goes full under Geralt's touch and Jaskier makes a soft noise, torn between a groan and a whimper. His legs squeeze powerful thighs and his free hand wanders over Geralt's pecs, fingers curling around the surprisingly soft hairs before he gives a firmer grope. ]
You have permission to wake me up at the ass crack of dawn if this is what is going to happen. [ His lips curve against the other man's mouth, giving him small kisses, almost lazy. He's moaning and shuddering a moment later, thanks to a particularly skilled shift of Geralt's wrist that causes hot pressure against the head of his cock. ]
Hnng. You have such nice, big hands. I bet you could...we could.... [ Jaskier doesn't finish but it's like a light-bulb goes on in his head. He looks down at Geralt with renewed intensity before he's letting go of the man's cock one last squeeze.
Jaskier is pawing at Geralt's hand with some silent regret, trying to coach the man to uncurl his finger from his own cock. He mutters a quick 'Just trust me with this, dear' before the Witcher can protest and rubs their hardness together, wrapping a hand around both of their cocks and rocking his hips. Silky, hot skin slides and press over each other and fucks if it doesn't feel better. ]
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Like now, those small sounds and inspired touches helping Geralt get harder in his hand as well. He's content to continue as they are, stroking and kissing until they're both satisfied on such a lazy morning, but then Jaskier is inspired with another idea and takes control of his hand. Geralt nearly protests when he's forced to let go... before realizing what he's doing.
Oh. Yes. He can work with this.
Geralt's fingers wrap around them both and he gives a gentle squeeze with the rocking motion of Jaskier's hips that send sparks of pleasure through them, the friction hitting just right. He grunts and huffs out a pleasured breath as his own hips begin moving upward as well, his grip remaining steady as they slowly rub and squeeze together.]
Fuck... [He curses quietly against Jaskier's mouth, his free hand coming up to paw at the back of his neck and hold him near.] You're going to make a mess.
[Well, they both are.]
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The last words, he manages to keep to himself. It might be too sentimental for Geralt liking and, despite the affection Jaskier has for him, he knows the man could break him easily just with words. That possible rejection is ever-present because it had always been in Jaskier's life and history often repeats itself. That is also a kind of worry that isn't suited for these early hours in the morning. Jaskier usually reserves it for the nights where Geralt is gone hunting some evil and he fears the man will not return. Not because he lost the battle but because he decided Jaskier was too much of a handful to deal with and chose another path, free of him.
But it's morning now, the dim light chasing the doubts away and the thrumming pleasure running through his bodies going in crescendo. Geralt realizes what he wants to do and he swears, bringing a charmed smile to the bard's face. The hand gripping his nape is a solid weight that he's come to love having on him. They rut and shudder against each other and Jaskier feels like laughing from how stupidly happy it makes him to have the chance to ride Geralt like this. ]
Yes. You're welcome. [ He gasps into Geralt's mouth and rolls his hips in a most promising fashion, dragging their cock together, still trapped into their firm hold. It's going to be messy and fast and good. With his free hand, Jaskier combs his fingers through Geralt's hair, gets a fistful, and pulls hard while kissing the man fiercely. ]
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If they had more time and resources out in the woods Geralt would have Jaskier ride him proper but this'll do for a quick morning together. Somehow it feels more intimate, offering more room to kiss and get lost in one another's mouths and touches. Geralt's hand is slick from them both but he keeps his grip steady as they rut up into one another, imagining the tightness akin to Jaskier's body, and that stray thought urges another guttural moan from him.
The tug on hair only adds to the sparking pleasure and his own grip on Jaskier's nape tightens, bucking up harder into the solid hold of his own hand and Jaskier's cock. He'll be a mess by the end of this but it doesn't even matter, he doesn't dare stop, tugging their cocks along with the natural push and pull from their hips. A heady moan is muffled against Jaskier's mouth and Geralt's breathing grows more clearly labored by the second. His free hand eventually lets go in favor of gripping Jaskier's ass again, palm sliding over the smooth flesh with a roughness akin to how desperate he is right now.]
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Jaskier has almost forgotten why are they even up this early, not like Geralt sleeps much. Something about training, his hazy mind offers as he rolls his hips at a quicker pace. Jaskier shudders when Geralt grunts, answering with a more meek whimper of his own, his pleasure just as intense. They're slick with pre-cum and Geralt's hands are rough from decades of wielding swords, adding just the right kind of edge. Another moan is stiffened against the Witcher's mouth and Jaskier pulls away only a hair breath, panting and arching his back. ]
Geralt, I won...ah...won't last long...
[ He keens when the hand grabbing his nape moves to his ass, feeling as desperate as Geralt. Even then, Jaskier smiles at him through half-opened eyes because his lover looks so beautiful in this moment, a wild thing, primal and untamed, and the bard is getting drunk on their shared pleasure. And so Jaskier tells him, words murmured in a rasp voice against the skin of his ear, low and loving, their cheeks brushing together, chest pressed close as he still sways his hips to try and push Geralt over the edge with him. ]
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As he presses down closer Geralt urges the movement with rolls of his hips too, jerking up in a steady beat to meet the way Jaskier slides them together. His grip remains steady and Geralt tips his head back with the building pleasure, grunting low in his throat at the whispers in his ear.]
C'mon... C'mon... [The urgency in his voice is just as low and breathless, the way their bodies rub and grind together adding bursts of pleasure where his hand squeezes. Geralt feels his arousal build to a point of no return and the desperation in his own thrusts increase, knowing he's close, stroking and rubbing until they both run over that edge together.]
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Matching orgasm exists more in the realms of perfect stories and occasionally raunchy ballads. They hardly happen in real life although it's not for lack of trying from the participants. But they still do happen and Jaskier finds himself rising to his peak at the same time as Geralt, the Witcher's name dropping from his lips like a prayer. Their chests are pressed close, rutting into each other almost like animals, cocks sliding together, and Jaskier bucks up against Geralt as they ride out the delightful waves. He can feel every spasm, every hot spurs between them, it feels so good that he thinks he must let out an actual sob.
He's always oversensitive after coming, more than Geralt at any rate, skin feeling hot and limbs loose. He stops rolling his hips slowly, hands reaching up to cup Geralt's face and press their foreheads together as they catch their breath. He takes a deep breath through his nose, basking in the scent that is just Geralt, the kind of smell he associates comfort, with adventures during the day and love during the nights. They would soon have to get up, and clean their mess away, start training (ugh!) but for now he's too happy and relaxed to move. ]
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His hand slows its strokes and eases on the harder grip when they both begin to calm down, breathing hard and hearts beating wildly. He's well aware of how sensitive Jaskier can get so he eventually lets go in favor of letting them rest like this, the bard on top of him despite the mess and sweat. Geralt hums a contented sound when their foreheads touch and he closes his eyes, breathing in the moment just the same.
Yes, they'll have to get up, rinse off, and get to the rest of their day, but right now he's happy to revel in this moment a while longer. Their small tent feels like a whole other world.]