Chapter Text
Mornings in Kaer Morhen are always quiet. Eskel wakes up first, rising with the dawn and heading out to start the day. He makes his way to the kitchen like every other morning, intent on preparing breakfast that will have just finished by the time the rest of the keep shuffles into the dining hall, bleary-eyed and dead on their feet. It's very rare for anyone to be awake while Eskel's still at the stove, but today appears to have different plans.
Footsteps shuffle into the kitchen behind him. He finds it odd that someone woke this early, but he doesn't comment on it, nor does he turn around. The person will pass by him without a word. On days like these, they always do. It stings each time it happens, but Eskel understands. Not everyone is a morning bird like he is. They just need time to wake up.
Eskel attempts to give them privacy and peace, keeping his mouth shut and attention focused on stirring the porridge in front of him. The footsteps continue, but instead of passing by, they seem to grow closer. Before he can turn around and check if they're alright, two strong arms wrap around his waist, a head resting between his shoulder blades. For a moment, Eskel tenses, surprised at the sudden gesture, but then a familiar, groggy voice mumbles,
"Mornin', Esk."
"Uh, morning, Geralt," he stutters out.
A soft but happy hum comes from Geralt behind him. Eskel expects him to move now, to let go as if Eskel has burned him. It's how these hugs normally go, short and quick transactions that leave Geralt avoiding him for the rest of the day. It hurts, but Geralt has a harder time showing affection than Eskel does. He resigns himself to the fact that Geralt will disappear, and Eskel won't see him until tomorrow.
But Geralt doesn't move. He stays in that position, holding Eskel's waist in a tight enough grip that Eskel can feel him, but loose enough that he's not squeezing the breath out of him. Eskel frowns, starting to get a little worried.
"Hey...you okay?" he asks, keeping his eyes on the porridge, not wanting to scare Geralt off. Unusual as this interaction is, Eskel finds himself enjoying Geralt's presence more than he would normally allow himself. He doesn't want to lose it.
Geralt hums an affirmative. "Fine," he mumbles again, voice muffled from his face being pressed against Eskel's back.
Eskel frowns deeper. If Geralt's okay, then why the sudden display of affection? Surely, something must've happened. A nightmare, at least. "Are you sure? It's just that you're..."
"'m I botherin' you?" Geralt doesn't pull away, but he starts to shift slightly as if he's preparing to.
"No!" Eskel reassures immediately, his free hand flying up to still Geralt's arms before they can release him. "No, you're good."
Geralt's head continues to move, his neck reaching up so he can plant a soft kiss on the hinge of Eskel's jaw, tucking his head back down afterward. "'kay."
Eskel freezes, the hand stirring the porridge pausing momentarily. "Okay," he whispers in return, left in a...not unpleasant daze.
They stay like that until Eskel finishes cooking. The kitchen smells of happiness, and it's impossible to tell who smells of it more. Not that it matters.
Geralt stays within Eskel's sight for the rest of the day.