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Well, Maybe I'm Yours

Summary:

Geralt finally kisses Jaskier. Jaskier would like to know why.

Notes:

Title shameless stolen from Matt Nathanson's song "More Than This".

This is my first Witcher fic and first fic in eight years. Please be gentle but concrit is appreciated!

Work Text:

“You have got to be shitting me!” Jaskier hissed when Geralt let him up for air, hot breaths puffing against the Witcher’s lips as he narrowed his eyes at the taller man. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you for months and nothing but a shitty drowner takes a swipe at me and suddenly you can’t control yourself?! I was beginning to think you weren’t clueless; just completely uninterested.” He untangled his fingers from Geralt’s slightly disgusting shirtfront, the black fabric tacky and sticking to his hands, and pushed roughly at his chest, for all the good it did.

“Jaskier, I….”Geralt opened his mouth to defend himself but quickly shut it as Jaskier continued to build steam.

“Where was this last month when that aggressive bastard in the tavern took a swipe at me with his knife because his daughter was making eyes at me while I sang? Huh? He got a lot closer to harming me than this asshole.” He gestured behind Geralt at the monster’s corpse. “Where was this—“ Jaskier broke off as Geralt’s fingers started to slip from Jaskier’s hair and the larger man took a half step backward, mud squelching under his boot. Jaskier’s frown deepened and he grabbed Geralt’s shirtfront again, monster guts be damned, keeping him close. Besides, Jaskier had scrubbed much worse out of the Witcher’s hair over the course of their time together and his new blue doublet was already ruined, not to mention his boots though that was more his fault for wandering too close to the waterfront. “Ohhhh, no you don’t. You started this; now you get to deal with the consequences. Where was this when I spent hours cleaning and polishing your armor while you were recuperating from that last manticore nest, over and over again until it was up to your specifications because your arm was hurt? When I bribed that innkeeper to use the snug when you were pouting over Yennefer’s latest parting shot and didn’t,” he lowered his voice to imitate Geralt’s and rasped, “feel like any company? If I had known this was all it took to get you to get your head out of your ass and decide to kiss me, I’d have found a monster to poke with a stick ages ago!”

Geralt groaned and rested his forehead against Jaskier’s, the mud squelching again as he leaned back in. “Fuck, Jask. If I had realized you were going to make such a big deal about it---“

Jaskier stuck an accusing finger in the slight space between their faces, his finger practically poking Geralt in the eye after he misjudged the distance. “If you end that sentence with, ‘I never would have kissed you,’ I will knee you in the balls, so help me, Melitele.”

A slight twitch of Geralt’s lips betrayed his amusement with the situation before he schooled his features back into something more serious. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good,” Jaskier retorted. “And for another thing!”

Geralt attempted to distract Jaskier from whatever else he had to say, renewing his grip on the soft strands of his hair and pulling the bard back in for another hungry kiss, all teeth and sweet moans from the bard. It was even better this time, now that they were in sync about what they wanted. Geralt pulled back and started sucking kisses down Jaskier’s throat before deciding that had been a terrible idea because it gave Jaskier back use of his voice.

“Geralt- mmm- seriously, what- oh, sweet Melitele, right there- made you change your mind- yessss- and give into my charms now? We’ve been in more- do that again- dangerous situations than this before by far.”

Geralt, realizing the bard was apparently not going to give up despite his best attempts at distraction, pulled back to look him in the face again. “Fuck, Jaskier. I don’t know; I guess I finally realized what was right in front of me.” When Jaskier kept silent and merely raised an eyebrow at his explanation, Geralt grunted again and made a pained face. “You always tell me I’m a dumbass; I thought you’d be thrilled to be proven right.”

Jaskier’s face brightened again and his eyes twinkled as he huffed out a laugh. “Well, when you put it that way, it makes perfect sense. Now shut up and kiss me again.”