Chapter Text
Jaskier was a flirt.
Anyone who knew him could attest to that. At the fancy parties the nobles held, he went around the room when he played his songs, smiling and winking at whoever caught his eye. He wasn't above leaning in close to his desired conquests and changing the lyrics a bit to... enhance the mood, as he put it.
Usually by rhyming clock with cock or something equally as vulgar.
However, Jaskier didn't limit his flirtations to nobles he wanted to bed. He pretty much flirted with anything and anyone at any time.
Including Geralt.
Now, usually it seemed like Jaskier didn't even notice he was doing it. He'd stay a little too close to him, touch him a little too much, and generally create way too many sexual innuendos involving the two of them. It was just how he interacted with people, so Geralt didn't think much of it.
This time was a little different.
They were at a dirty old tavern in a small village, well on their way to getting plastered. Geralt had just finished up a contract in a small village, and Jaskier insisted they celebrate with some good food and ale.
The food had turned out to be mediocre and luke-warm, and the ale mostly tasted like warm piss, but it got the job done. Geralt was even starting to loosen up and relax a little, leaning back in his chair, watching his bard pick up his lute and start on his newest heroic ballad. A few other musicians immediately joined in. His heart warmed a little, seeing Jaskier prance around the room, making the other patrons sing along. Every now and then he paused his singing and took a hearty swig of ale.
Geralt sighed, following Jaskier's example and taking a sip of his drink. He felt like he deserved a little rest.
It had been a rough couple of months, and that was saying something, considering how the life of a Witcher usually was.
Between Ciri and Yennefer and his… fight with Jaskier, his mind and body were tired. Sure, things with Ciri were fine; she was training with Yennefer at the moment, but with Jaskier it was still a little… Weird.
Apologising to a wronged friend wasn't exactly something you learned at Kaer Morhen, and Geralt had never really cared about anyone's feelings enough to feel apologetic before.
So when they'd run into each other again a month after the battle of Sodden, Geralt hadn't known what to say. He wanted to explain himself, tell Jaskier he missed him, but words had never come easy for him.
Fortunately, when the time came he hadn't needed to say anything.
He'd spotted Jaskier two weeks ago in the streets of Oxenfurt. Geralt was on a hunt, and Jaskier later said he'd been visiting family.
He'd acted instinctively, tapping Jaskier on the shoulder.
For a moment, Jaskier seemed shocked into silence at the sight of him, and Geralt almost made a move to leave.
But then his face split up in a large grin, and he had excitedly grasped Geralt's arm and dragged him to the inn they were (coincidentally) both staying in. They spent the night catching up; that is to say, Jaskier told Geralt everything he'd been up to the last few months, and Geralt mostly stayed silent.
In accordance with his usual behaviour, Jaskier hadn't shut up since. Of course, he'd followed Geralt to his next contract, saying how brilliant it was that they were travelling together again.
Still, Geralt couldn't help feeling like something was a little off with Jaskier. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, though.
"Oy, Geralt! May I have this dance?"
Geralt's pondering was interrupted by a flushed and very drunk Jaskier suddenly appearing in front of him, pulling eagerly at his sleeve. His eyes were twinkling mischievously, hazy with alcohol.
"No", Geralt responded gruffly, shooing Jaskier's hands away.
His blunt refusal didn't deter Jaskier one moment, of course. Putting his hands on his hips, he grinned down at Geralt. He was swaying slightly.
"Come on, don't be such a limp cock! Dance with me!", he exclaimed, a little too loudly to be sober.
"I don't dance, Jaskier", Geralt responded, hiding an amused smile.
"What, because you're a big bad Witcher you can't dance? Nonsense, my dear Geralt! Come on up and give these fine people a run for their money! You know you want to!"
Geralt sighed. He really didn't. So he remained seated, giving Jaskier a pointed look. It just seemed to fuel his persistence.
"You need to have some fun, Geralt!", Jaskier insisted.
"We have very different opinions on what fun is", he deadpanned, taking a sip of his terrible ale.
Jaskier rolled his eyes and started dancing on the spot, wiggling his slender hips in a sort of side-to-side motion. It made him look stupid and dumb and wasn't at all attractive.
Jaskier grabbed both of Geralt's hands and tried to move them to the music.
"I bet you'd like it if you gave it a chance", he sing-song, leaning in closer.
Geralt glared at him.
"Why don't you try and make me", he said, hiding a smirk, knowing such a task would be impossible for the scrawny bard.
Jaskier's eyes widened and he seemed to get even more flushed than before at Geralt's words. Strange.
"Wha- Challenge accepted, oh mighty Witcher!"
He started furiously tugging on Geralt's arms. It didn't move him even an inch.
"Fuck, these are like tree trunks!", Jaskier groaned and tried swinging one of Geralt's forearms over his shoulder by turning around and hiking it up.
Needless to say, it was unsuccessful. It did however give Geralt a pretty good view of Jaskier's backside.
Not that Geralt particularly wanted the view. Just an observation.
Jaskier finally seemed to give up trying to drag him and instead opted to just stand and glare at Geralt.
"Giving up so soon?", Geralt asked, a hint of mocking sneaking its way into his voice. Jaskier scowled.
"No I…" He trailed off suddenly, his eyes lighting up as if he was just struck by an idea. It made Geralt sigh inwardly. Ideas and Jaskier were never a good combo.
"I got it!", he exclaimed with a big grin.
Geralt was just about to ask exactly what he'd "gotten" when-
Oof.
Jaskier threw his arms around Geralt and hopped right onto Geralt's lap.
Taking advantage of Geralt's shock and confusion, he grabbed Geralt's right hand tightly and pulled it up. At the same time he was sliding up his thighs, bringing their faces closer together.
"We can just dance like this!", he giggled, swaying back and forth, moving their hands with the beat of the music.
"Jaskier. Get off me", Geralt growled, trying to pull his hand back.
"Come on Geralt! Blame the ale!", Jaskier exclaimed. He brought his flushed face close to Geralt's, resting their foreheads against each other. He was definitely more drunk than Geralt had thought.
Jaskier closed his eyes and continued swaying to the music, gently humming along.
"Jaskier. Get off."
"Mhmm… No… You're cozy", Jaskier replied, head lolling forward to rest on Geralt's shoulder.
"Jaskier."
"Mm…"
"I'm standing up now", Geralt growled, and made to do just that.
"No…!" Jaskier's arms and legs tightened around Geralt, and he snuggled determinedly against his chest. He could just stand up anyway and let Jaskier fall to the floor, but something stopped him.
Jaskier’s expression was open and content. Geralt hadn’t seen him look like that since before the dragon hunt.
He realised then what was off about Jaskier. He was being careful around Geralt. Yes, he still talked constantly, yes, he would still bug him, but not like he used to. Tonight was the first time since their reunion he actually tried to coerce Geralt into something. It was like he was scared of making him angry.
The thought made his stomach twist.
A small noise of contentment brought him out of his reverie. It seemed he’d been lost in thought a little too long, because Jaskier seemed to be struggling to remain awake.
"Cozy...", he slurred quietly, and then promptly let out a snore.
Geralt sighed. The damned bard was impossible when drunk.
He carefully dislodged Jaskier's hands from his neck, and swiftly lifted him off his lap, putting him down on a nearby chair. Gently, he brought Jaskier's head to rest on his shoulder.
He should wake him, help him to their shared room upstairs. They had to ride out early tomorrow and Geralt didn’t even want to think about how grumpy Jaskier would be if on top of the hangover he didn’t get to sleep in a proper bed tonight.
Instead of doing the responsible thing however, he slowly brought his hand to Jaskier's cheek, resting it there.
Jaskier nuzzled his palm in his sleep. He looked so peaceful, eyelids fluttering slightly, face still flushed. He looked so young, Geralt thought. His hands travelled up to tangle in Jaskier’s hair, twirling the brown locks between his fingers.
“Geralt…”, Jaskier mumbled in his sleep.
Geralt couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.
It couldn’t hurt to wait a little longer before waking him.