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It’s late. They’ve each had one drink too many and are curled up around each other on the mattress meant for one, legs tangled together, Jaskier’s hand in Geralt’s hair. Neither is quite asleep, but Jaskier’s thoughts are beginning to drift. Geralt, only marginally more awake, presses closer to him, leaning into his touch.
The movement revives Jaskier enough to notice the sound coming from deep in Geralt’s chest. It vibrates through his throat and resonates under Jaskier’s skin. He opens his eyes.
“What’s that noise you’re making?”
Immediately, the sound stops.
“What noise?”
“The one you just made!” Jaskier tries to imitate the low, rumbling hum, but it comes out closer to a growl.
“It’s nothing,” Geralt says. Too quickly.
Jaskier props himself up on his elbow to look at him better. “It certainly sounded like something.”
Geralt glares at him. “It’s a witcher thing. Promotes healing.”
“Healing, right.” Jaskier smirks. “Except you’re not injured. That I’m aware.”
“So? It’s just automatic. A reflex.”
Jaskier’s grin widens. “That’s not what it sounded like to me. Sounded more like you were purring.”
Geralt rolls his eyes.
“All right, then,” Jaskier says. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you weren’t purring.”
“Of course I wasn’t purring.”
“You’re an absurdly bad liar.”
Geralt scowls.
Jaskier laughs and presses a kiss to his temple. “I’m not making fun of you.” Then he pauses, reconsidering. “Well, all right, maybe just a little. But only because I have so little to tease you about. I think it’s lovely.” He punctuates the statement with another kiss. “You’re lovely.”
Geralt shakes his head, a motion so slight as to be barely noticeable, and almost certainly involuntary.
“Yes, you are. Don’t argue with me.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t need to. I knew what you were thinking.”
“Most people would be less than delighted by the reminder that their partner is other than fully human.”
Jaskier scoffs. “Do you think I’m ‘most people’? Most people would be so lucky.”
Moving slowly, he touches his fingertip to Geralt’s cheek, just under his eye. “These are lovely.”
He moves his hand further down Geralt’s face, tracing the outline of his canines – just slightly longer and sharper than a normal man’s – beneath his lips. “These are lovely.”
He taps his finger against Geralt’s sternum. “This is lovely.”
Geralt rolls his eyes again, but a hint of a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. Jaskier can still feel the tension in his shoulders and at the back of his neck, though. He scratches lightly at Geralt’s scalp and waits until he slowly relaxes again.
“Don’t worry,” Jaskier says. “I won’t tell anyone. You won’t hear any songs about purring witchers from me.”
“No one would believe you, anyway.”
Jaskier laughs. “Careful. Don’t tempt me.”
“Don’t you dare,” Geralt growls, baring his teeth just a little.
“I won’t!” Jaskier presses another kiss to Geralt’s cheek, curling up beside him. “I won’t.”
“Hmm.” Geralt closes his eyes, lifting his arm for Jaskier to snuggle back up next to him. Jaskier does so happily, tucking his head under his chin.
He falls asleep to the steady hum of Geralt’s purr.