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“Hey there, gorgeous,” the barmaid winks and brushes her fingers against Geralt’s as she passes him his drink.
Geralt frowns. It isn’t entirely unheard of for people to flirt with him. He’s unusual and objectively quite attractive apparently, although he doesn’t really see it in himself. That combination draws people to him. The only strange thing is this is the third time it’s happened this morning… and he’s not even had breakfast yet. Jaskier had already gone downstairs before he’d woken up, which is rare, and he can only assume that his latest problem has something to do with Jaskier’s disappearance.
He hadn’t even managed to open his door without a bard, not Jaskier, pushing up against him, whispering something filthy in his ear.
No. Something is definitely wrong.
“Ah, Geralt!” Jaskier trills and slides into the bench opposite him. “You’re finally up!”
The bard looks bright eyed and so very alive. His blue eyes sparkle in the light of the tavern, his hair soft and falling in front of his face. He hasn’t shaved yet today and there’s a prickle of stubble on his chin that makes him look roguishly handsome. He’s also the only person Geralt has seen this morning that hasn’t tried to hit on him.
It’s like the world is in reverse.
“Jaskier, what the fuck did you do?”
Jaskier blushes and smiles sheepishly, running a hand through his hair as he bites down on his lip. “Umm… well… I may have not entirely considered the consequences of my actions?”
Geralt groans and presses his fingers to his forehead. “What did you do?” he asks again.
“Ok ok, now, before you get all,” Jaskier waves a hand in his face “yeah that. I did it to help you!”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Pfft, yes sure, whatever you say, dearest,” Jaskier winks and Geralt can almost feels himself relax. Maybe the world isn’t as topsy turvy as he thought. “Everyone was bad mouthing you whilst you were busy sleeping. You know, after you saved their lives yesterday, so I thought, quick white lie never hurts anyone, right?”
Geralt doesn’t answer. He just raises an eyebrow at Jaskier and the bard’s blush deepens.
“So I maybe sort of told them having sex with witchers brings good luck,” Jaskier babbles so quickly that if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing Geralt wouldn’t have been able to hear him.
He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. “What am I going to do with you, bard?”
Jaskier smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his tongue slowly swipes along his lips. “Well,” he purrs, fingers brushing the rim of his glass. “I heard that it brings good luck to sleep with witchers.”