Chapter Text
When Geralt and Jaskier arrived at the wedding, the celebration was in full swing with all the guests already quite tipsy, dancing and singing along to the lively music. The air was filled with laughter and the sound of glasses clinking together.
Since Ella was marrying the miller's son, the entire wedding celebration took place in and around a mill. As they approached the garden gate, they noticed a guy standing there with a tray of shots, generously offering them to the arriving guests. Geralt's whole face lit up at the sight of the alcohol. Without hesitation, he greeted the guy and immediately downed two shots of mead.
“This’ll be a fun night,” Jaskier said with a playful smile, raising one eyebrow as he followed Geralt’s lead and took a shot as well.
The garden was a lively scene, filled with people dressed up for the occasion. The boys wore shirts with colourful flower embroideries, while the girls had flower wreaths on their heads, and some of them even wore them around their necks.
Under a row of plum trees, tables were arranged, displaying a wide selection of food and drinks. Several people stood around them, some engaged in conversation, others playing cards or participating in various drinking games. They were also invited to join in the festivities, but they declined, opting for another drink instead.
“Everyone is staring at us, Jask,” Geralt whispered.
“Well, maybe it's a bit too much for a village wedding after all.”
“And you didn't think of that when you put a peacock feather on your head, did you?” Geralt sounded a little mad but also amused. “Drink up.”
“If I drink at the same pace as you, I'll be lying under the table in an hour,” the bard complained but downed the shot obediently.
They decided it was only proper to offer their congratulations to the newlyweds and say hello to the blacksmith's family first. The open door to the mill revealed a spacious, brightly lit, and beautifully decorated hall, where the wedding guests danced to a live band's music.
Finding them inside the hall wasn’t difficult. Ella was easily distinguishable in her striking snow-white dress, standing out among the other colours. A wreath of moon daisies adorned her head, and her long hair swirled around her as she danced. She made a beautiful bride, and her tall groom with his curly wheat-coloured hair, and high cheekbones didn't look half bad either.
Meeting the family wouldn't be complete without raising a toast to the newlyweds, and this time, they did so with the finest sparkling wine from Toussaint.
As soon as he had the opportunity, Geralt snatched Jaskier's hat, placing it in the hands of a friendly girl who was serving drinks. He asked her to keep it somewhere safe, and though Jaskier protested that it was expensive and that he couldn’t let it out of his sight, everyone reassured him that the wedding guests would definitely not try to steal his clothes.
Ella, wild with joy, playfully put her daisy crown on his head right afterwards, declaring he looked better that way anyway. Jaskier smiled and adjusted the wreath, positioning it on his forehead so that it rested on his ears and stayed securely in place.
After this little victory, Ella tried to place Jasanka's wreath on Geralt's head, but the witcher wasn’t too thrilled about the idea. However, Jaskier at least managed to pluck a few flowers from the wreath and tucked them into his hair instead.
They danced a few times with both sisters and when they ran out of breath, they moved to a quieter corner of the dance hall, where they continue to drink more sparkling wine. Geralt's movements became a bit unsteady as if he weren’t walking on solid ground but on the deck of a ship sailing on a rough sea.
“Are you happy now?” Jaskier asked teasingly, gesturing to his head.
“Yes…flowers suit you much better…Buttercup,” Geralt said, a smile spreading across his face as the alcohol in his blood started to take effect, making him feel more and more relaxed.
“Hey! you never call me that!” Jaskier looked at him with wide eyes, forgetting to close his mouth in surprise.
“I know…but other people do,” Geralt replied, biting his lower lip.
“Yes, other people who typically also happen to be my lovers,” Jaskier said with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.
“Not all of them,” Geralt swung his hand, accidentally spilling some wine.
Before Jaskier could say anything back, a rosy-cheeked young woman came right up to him and boldly placed her hand on his shoulder. "Hello, flower boy, do you dance?"
“I…well…,” Jaskier hesitated, trying to organize his thoughts and buy some time as he flicked his gaze from the girl to the witcher. Unless he went completely insane, Geralt had just been flirting with him, and he didn’t want to miss out on this chance to see where the night could lead. On the other hand, the girl was standing right there asking for a dance…for now, but then again…Geralt.
“Why not, sure, it’s just a dance,” Jaskier said, finally making a decision and immediately regretting it when he saw the disappointment in Geralt’s eyes. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, hoping to get some kind of reaction from the witcher.
“Why should I care,” Geralt muttered, his gaze piercing the girl at the same time.
Jaskier had already accepted the girl’s invitation and it would be rude to take it back, so he allowed her to take his hand and lead him to the middle of the dance floor. As they danced, she kept trying to get closer and closer to him, pressing her breasts against his chest. She held him around the neck, stroked his back, and even pinched his ass at one point. Normally, Jaskier might have enjoyed the attention, but with Geralt’s eyes fixed on them from the corner of the room the whole time, he couldn't bring himself to reciprocate.
Feeling uncomfortable under Geralt's gaze, Jaskier subtly tried to create some distance between him and the girl, but she seemed determined to keep him close. He began to long for a way to escape the awkward situation he had unwittingly walked into.
As the girls noticed that Geralt was left alone, they started to approach him with offers of dancing too, but he turned each one of them down with a shake of his head. To escape the unwanted attention, he finished his drink before making his way to the table for a refill.
As he poured himself another glass of wine, Geralt couldn't help but steal glances towards the dance floor, where Jaskier was still entangled with the persistent girl. He tried to shake off the feeling of jealousy, reminding himself that Jaskier had every right to enjoy himself and that he had no claim over the bard.
With the girl's lips dangerously close to his face, Jaskier knew that if they continued to dance, it wouldn’t end well. So he gently pushed her away and excused himself, feeling a mix of guilt and relief. He navigated his way through the crowded dance floor to the table where Geralt was standing. Without hesitation, he grabbed an entire bottle of sparkling wine and motioned for Geralt to follow him.
Jaskier made a beeline for the lake below the garden because he figured it was a place where they could have some privacy, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty and anticipation. Geralt followed with a less confident and steady pace. When they reached the serene lake, Jaskier sat down on the shore, setting the bottle in his lap and patting the spot beside him, wordlessly inviting Geralt to join him. The witcher willingly slumped down next to him.
Although it was already dark, the lake was illuminated by lanterns hanging from the trees around, casting a warm and romantic glow on the water. It was a perfect place to continue what they had started in the dance hall. However, Jaskier's assumption about privacy turned out to be wrong.
“Are you here for the game?” asked a girl who stood nearby, leaning against a tree.
Jaskier was about to ask what kind of game it is, but Geralt beat him to it, saying he wanted to play with a silly grin on his face. He actually looked surprisingly cute.
“Apparently we’re in. How do we play?” Jaskier finally asked, nervous about what was to come.
“The point is,” she started explaining, “that a girl throws her shoes into the lake, and her suitor or boyfriend has to dive to the bottom to retrieve them. It's harder than it looks, as the bottom is muddy and uneven, and now at the end of the day, there are several shoes lying around because of the guys who failed to complete the task.”
At that moment, a man emerged from the lake, his upper body bare, triumphantly waving a shoe above his head.
“See?” the girl continued, “That shoe is mine, although it’s his third attempt, so he didn’t do that great.”
As the man stepped out of the water, he was revealed to be only in his underwear. He walked up to her, gracefully dropping down on one knee, and ceremoniously placed the shoe on her foot. In return, she rewarded him with a sweet kiss on the lips.
“Normally it’s for boys and girls, but I guess it’s whatever this late at night. You said you’re in, so will you jump in the lake for him, big boy?” she winked at Geralt. “You're the one who's gonna dive, am I right?” she added with an encouraging smile.
“You said you wanted to play, so there’s no going back now. Come on, Geralt. I know you secretly like to show off, don’t you?” Jaskier teased, taking a sip of wine.
Geralt took the bottle from his hand and took a hearty swig. ”I said I’d do it…So throw your fucking shoes in there and shut up,” he slurred, articulation becoming more and more difficult for him. It's a good thing that actions have always spoken louder than words when it came to the witcher.
Jaskier needed no further encouragement; he gladly kicked off his shoes and hurled them in an arc into the lake with all his might. Geralt observed the trajectory of the shoes carefully before starting to undress.
"Atta boy, we'll leave you to it," said the girl and left with the man, who was still half naked and holding his clothes in his arms.
Jaskier took another sip of wine, his eyes wide with astonishment as he watched Geralt getting undressed in front of him. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was too surreal to be real and not just some fever dream.
While it wasn't exactly graceful with Geralt's uncoordinated movements, the sight of the witcher undressing for him in the lantern light by the lake while Jaskier remained fully clothed was incredibly hot. The intensity of the moment made his head spin, and his cheeks flushed with excitement. He felt the tightening in his pants and discreetly placed the wine bottle on his lap, just to be sure. Not that Geralt would have noticed anything like that at that particular moment.
As Jaskier witnessed Geralt staggering to the edge of the lake, concern washed over him. He began to worry a little about whether this was safe for the witcher. “Be careful, yeah?” he shouted out before Geralt courageously dived into the water.
As time passed without Geralt resurfacing, the bard’s concern escalated and he started pacing the shore nervously. “Gods, what have I done? I sent a drunken witcher diving into a muddy lake. It’s almost certain that witchers can drown like normal people, even though I don’t know that for sure” he muttered to himself, burying both his hands in his hair.
But there was nothing to worry about. After a brief moment, Geralt emerged from the water, holding both of Jaskier's shoes in his hand with a smug smile playing on his lips.
“Impressive?” Geralt asked after he climbed back ashore, brushing his wet hair off his face with his free hand. Jaskier just swallowed hard and had to admit that Geralt has probably never looked more impressive in his life, but he didn’t dare say it aloud.
“Are you…” Jaskier’s voice failed him, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Are you…going to put the shoes on as well?” His voice was raspy. Geralt maintained eye contact and got on his knees in front of him. Jaskier’s mind raced as he realized what was about to happen. Okay, there was a time tonight he wasn't sure if Geralt was flirting with him, and now this was happening.
When the witcher softly touched the back of his leg, the bard instinctively stopped his hand. “Oh my God, I cannot handle this. This is too much even for me. I feel incredibly stupid,” his cheeks were burning with embarrassment.
“Come on, Jask, it’s a tradition…” Geralt’s voice deepened, tempting. Jaskier closed his eyes feeling completely overwhelmed. He had no idea what to do. He knew what was coming after this part of the ritual, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.
"Geralt," he finally spoke, his voice slightly shaky but determined. "I... I don't know if I'm ready for this. It's not that I don't want to, but it's just...if you give me…Give me two damn minutes and I’ll be fine."
“Everything is okay, Jask. Really,” Geralt’s calm tone reassured him, and he started to believe it, gradually calming down. Once Jaskier settled a bit, Geralt tenderly lifted both of his feet and slipped his shoes back on. Jaskier had to grab onto Geralt’s shoulders to maintain his balance.
As Geralt was standing up after the task was done, he slowly ran both hands from Jaskier's feet over his calves and ass, before finally resting his hands on Jaskier's hips. Jaskier couldn’t help but shiver at the touch the whole time, not even trying to hide how turned on he was by this whole setup. He focused on erasing the image of Geralt kneeling in front of him from his head so he wouldn't go completely crazy.
As they stood in such close proximity, Jaskier found himself struggling to catch his breath, his heart racing in his chest.
“What about my reward,” Geralt whispered, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist and pulling him even closer.
“This is so stupid, my feet are wet now,” Jaskier said softly in an attempt to change the topic with a nervous smile.
“The problem might be that only your feet are wet,” Geralt said, smiling mischievously. He sensed Jaskier’s unease and decided to change his strategy at the last second. As Geralt's grasp on his hips tighten, Jaskier quickly realized what the witcher had in mind.
“Geralt, no, don’t! Fancy clothes, remember? Please don’t! I’m begging you” Jaskier pleaded, but couldn’t hide his laughter. He tried to wriggle out of Geralt's embrace, but with the witcher’s strong grip, it was impossible. He didn't listen and half pushed, half threw the bard into the lake. Jaskier disappeared underwater, leaving only his flower crown floating on the surface. From the shore, Geralt laughed unapologetically.
When Jaskier's head appeared above the surface, he immediately began cursing: “You're a horrible, wicked, misbehaved creature. The water is cold and dirty! Do you know how difficult it is to swim in clothes? It's dragging me down because of how heavy it is.”
“Take it off then,” Geralt teased him.
“Oh yeah? I really wouldn't have thought of that without you. What else can I do when everything's soaking wet!” Jaskier grumbled making his way out of the water.
On the shore, he angrily stripped off his clothes, which clung to his body, dripping water. After wringing out the clothes, he hung them on the nearby trees to let them dry.
“Now what, you genius?” he asked Geralt, standing in front of him only in his underwear, shivering.
“Are you cold? You can have my shirt if you want to?” he picked it up from the ground and pressed it into the bard's hand. He gratefully put it on, rolling up the sleeves, that were too long for him. Geralt threw the wide scarf he wore around his waist over his shoulders and wrapped himself in it, trying to keep warm as well.
“C’m’ere. The wine will warm you up as well,” Geralt said invitingly. As Jaskier sat down next to him and took a sip of wine, Geralt wrapped an arm around his shoulders to share his body heat. After that, the bard finally smiled at him.
“I guess I’ve ruined all my chances of getting the reward now, huh?” Geralt asked carefully.
“No, you didn’t,” Jaskier said looking at him from under his eyelashes. The wine and Geralt's proximity had chased away the cold, leaving him feeling warm and fuzzy inside. He drank a little bit again, gathering courage, and then looked into Geralt's honey-coloured eyes.
“Here’s your reward, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered against his lips, and then he kissed him, gently at first, kissing the sweetness of the wine away, so he could really taste his lips. Geralt returned the kiss, impatiently cupping Jaskier’s cheek and pulling him closer. Jaskier trembled, unsure if it was still due to the cold or the intensity of the emotions swirling in the centre of his chest.
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