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Geralt hummed as he flicked through the pages of his book, a less than accurate retelling of their encounter with the Djinn written by one Julian Alfred Pankratz. Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes, the details of Jaskier’s injuries were grossly exaggerated, making him out to be some kind damsel in distress. Jaskier, sorry, Julian, had made Geralt’s relationship with Yen to be something sensational and spellbinding, rather than the raw sexual encounter that it had been, and continued to be as and when they ran into each other around the Continent.
Jaskier was flitting around their shared room at the inn, humming to himself as he prepared for his evening. “Geralt, my darling, have you seen my shirt?”
Geralt, looking at Jaskier’s perfectly fine white chemise, raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re wearing it.”
Jaskier put both hands on his hips and snorted. “Very funny, Geralt. As if I would wear this old thing to a royal ball! I meant the one I bought to go with my corset, with the silk panels at the shoulders?”
Geralt shrugged. “Have you checked the saddlebags?”
“Have I checked the saddlebags?” Jaskier muttered sarcastically. “Useless, bloody witcher. You’re lucky you’re so gorgeous.”
Geralt smirked and opened his arms as Jaskier flopped down onto the bed with a sigh. He snuggled up against Geralt’s chest and Geralt kissed his hair, the scent of honey and chamomile filling his senses. “You smell good.”
“I know, you always sniff me more when I use this oil in my hair,” Jaskier said as he draped an arm across Geralt’s chest. “I figured you liked it.”
Geralt smiled, placing another kiss in Jaskier’s hair before giving his arse a slap. “You need to get ready.”
Jaskier squeaked, looking up at him with a perfect pout, wide blue eyes and his bottom lip quivering just the right amount. Geralt ran his thumb along Jaskier lip and then pulled him into a kiss. It didn’t take long for the kiss to grow heated as Jaskier straddled his waist and Geralt’s hands found their way under Jaskier’s shirt, but Geralt pulled away with a groan before they could get carried away. Jaskier whined and chased his lips, as his eyes fluttered open.
“You have the King of Redania to entertain, later,” Geralt said, nosing under Jaskier jaw. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Come with me?” Jaskier asked for the hundredth time. “I swear it won’t be like Cintra.”
Geralt shook his head. “You have the Xenovox from Yen?” Jaskier nodded. “Call me if there’s trouble, and only if there’s life-threatening trouble. Understand?”
Jaskier rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun, darling, but fine. I’ll get ready.”
“Hmm.” Geralt kissed Jaskier’s neck and then pushed him off the bed.
“Oi!” Jaskier cried indignantly.
“Get dressed.”
Jaskier scoffed but did as he was told. Geralt watched him over the top of his book, not really paying much attention to the words. He knew the story anyway, he’d been there for it after all, but he’d found the book in an old chest after a ghoul contract. He’d seen Jaskier’s real name and hadn’t been able to resist picking it up. It was well written and an engaging read, but complete and utter bullshit. Jaskier pulled a new shirt from Roach’s saddlebags and grinned, Geralt smirked. He’d known the shirt had been in there, bloodyminded bard. It didn’t take long for Jaskier to pull on some gorgeous pale blue silk trousers and his shirt, before holding up his newly purchase corset.
Geralt tilted his head as he watched Jaskier slip the garment on, contorting as he tried to fiddle with the lace on the back. Geralt counted down in his head as Jaskier grumbled, sticking his tongue between his lips, eventually he whined and pouted at Geralt.
“Help?”
Geralt shuffled off the bed, batting Jaskier’s hands away from the lacing. He placed a kiss the nape of Jaskier’s neck and then pulled at the lacing. “Alright?”
“Tighter, please.” Jaskier said as he arched he back, pulling a silver necklace from off the dresser and examining it.
Geralt pulled tighter, drawing in the blue silk corset around Jaskier’s waist, defining his figure until he looked completely delectable. It wasn’t proper in the slightest, in fact it was completely indecent. Geralt had half a mind to trap his lover in their room together for the rest of the evening. Jaskier probably wouldn’t even complain, but Geralt also knew that Jaskier thrived on the attention and adrenaline of performance. He could never deny him that.
“Thank you, darling,” Jaskier sang as he turned back around, cupping Geralt’s cheek and gazing at him with such fond adoration.
Geralt felt his cheeks heat up, his mouth going dry as he took in his lover’s form. Jaskier looked radiant, a picture of true beauty. Geralt was lost for words. “Hmm,” he said instead as he pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s.
Jaskier laughed and bumped their noses together. “I love you too, my darling, I love you too.”