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The thing was, Geralt and Jaskier never really discussed their relationship.
It was just like, one day, things shifted between them and neither of them questioned it. Jaskier started cuddling with Geralt during the night and, sure, it could be argued it was just because it was cold and Jaskier a human, was susceptible to the cold, but they both knew it was more than that.
Geralt started letting Jaskier on the back of Roach. Jaskier happily wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist and propped his chin on Geralt’s shoulder.
They started bathing together. Jaskier would wash Geralt’s back and he would wash Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier would sing during their travels and Geralt was not only no longer annoyed by it, but sometimes Jaskier even noticed him humming along, muttering the lyrics.
It was little things. They barely even noticed it until Yennefer pointed it out.
“Things have… changed, haven’t they?” she asked while they were visiting her for help with a particularly nasty monster.
Surprisingly Geralt answered first, “Things have changed, yes,” he agreed. He looked at Jaskier and half-smiled, and the bard smiled back without even thinking about it.
It was an instinct; Geralt smiled at him and he smiled back.
Yennefer looked between them curiously. “Hmm,” she said. “Interesting.”
-
Jaskier couldn’t get her words - and Geralt’s answer - out of his head. That night, he watched as Geralt stripped out of his clothes, tossing his armor on the floor followed by his shirt and trousers.
He always kept his underclothes on, and so did Jaskier.
Waiting until Geralt was under the covers, Jaskier joined him, their bodies slotting together perfectly. It was a repeat of their last hundred nights together but for some reason it felt different.
There was a tension in the air. Jaskier shifted. “About what Yennefer said–”
Geralt tugged him closer, burying his face in Jaskier’s hair. “Don’t overthink it, bard,” he said gruffly. “We don’t need words for it.”
Jaskier pulled back, biting his bottom lip. “So… hypothetically, if I were to kiss you…?” he trailed off, aiming for casual when in reality his heart was beating like crazy, thrumming violently under his ribs.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Geralt said, an instant answer, surprising him.
Jaskier swallowed his nerves. This was how their relationship had always worked; nothing was ever a big deal. It progressed slowly, naturally, until neither of them even realized it was happening. Leaning up, he kissed him, soft, on the lips. He pulled back, biting the inside of his cheek. “So?”
Geralt stared back at him, a fond quirk to his lips. “Goodnight, little songbird.”
Jaskier relaxed all at once, all the tension draining from his body as he scooted closer, burying his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck. “Goodnight, Geralt,” he whispered, already thinking about how much he was going to enjoy kissing Geralt good morning. Because that was a thing they did now. Fuck.