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Jaskier watched Yennefer apply her dark red lipstick with a tiny brush as he sat cross-legged on a bed in one of Corvo Bianco's bedrooms. Although it was technically a guest room, it was filled with Yennefer's personal belongings as she was the one who often stayed there.
Curious, Jaskier asked, "Has Ciri ever asked you to teach her how to put on makeup?"
“Nah, I think she’d had enough of this during her time at the castle,” Yen said and smoothed the applied layer with her ring finger. “She prefers to run around in the forest with mud on her knees and her hair in a messy braid.”
Jaskier nodded, "Yeah, of course, I know what she's like. Getting her to sit still is like taming a wild horse,” he shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “But there's nothing wrong with wanting to look…pretty. Once in a while."
Yennefer paused, put down the lipstick and looked at Jaskier through the mirror before responding, "Ciri is beautiful just the way she is. She doesn't need it."
Jaskier agreed, "Yes, right, absolutely. People tend to forget how to close their mouths when they're around her, but what I mean is…You, for example. You’re stunning just the way you are as well, but putting on make-up makes men drop dead when they see you…” Jaskier said rubbing his neck with one hand and gesturing in her direction with the other.
Yennefer chuckled, “Mhm, that’s just a power move.” She brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. Then she began to concentrate on applying mascara, which made her long eyelashes stand out even more. Her eyelids were already covered by a dark eyeshadow with the finest golden glitter that sparkled every time she blinked. Jaskier followed her every movement with hungry eyes.
“Putting on lipstick instantly makes you feel more badass. Looking hotter is just a side effect,” she said and shrugged.
“So it has nothing to do with looking pretty?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow.
“It has everything to do with that. It goes hand in hand,” she replied.
“I see, makes sense,” he nodded and pursed his lips.
“Why are you staring at me like that? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you either wanted to fuck me or hit me,” Yennefer said with a playful smirk, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “This was never about Ciri, was it?” she added, already knowing the answer.
Jaskier stumbled over his words, his embarrassment evident in his awkward fumbling. "No…I-I didn't mean to sound…to say….to ask...I truly don’t care about…well, Ciri is," he said, trying to regain his composure but at the same time, he didn’t know where to look or what to do with his hands.
"Jaskier, darling, do you want me to do your makeup?" Yennefer asked, turning her stool to face him and taking his hands in hers.
“I’m a man, though,” Jaskier still avoided her gaze a flush rose to his cheeks, but his eyes lit up. “A manly man…” he protested weakly and finally looked up.
Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Jaskier, no one will question your masculinity just because you paint your face. Besides, there's no one here but you and me.”
“Geralt might be back any moment and the same goes for Ciri,” he still seemed hesitant even though the excitement in his eyes was impossible to hide.
“Don’t worry about them,” Yennefer reassured him, waving her hand dismissively. “Come on, you can close the door if you’re scared so much. It’ll be fun,” she added, winking playfully.
Jaskier obediently followed Yennefer’s instructions and settled back onto the bed, facing her. She lifted his chin with her index and middle finger and examined his face carefully.
“I think you’ll look beautiful in the exact look I’m wearing.” Jaskier smiled shyly, sparkles in his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, but Yennefer’s I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude put him at ease.
Yennefer scooted the stool closer and positioned herself between Jaskier's thighs, allowing her to reach him more easily. She started by applying a beige cream that smelled of marigold onto his face. Not that Jaskier was particularly knowledgeable about herbs, but he knew this one because Geralt used it in his healing salves.
“I don’t want to cover your freckles. They’re cute,” she said while rubbing it gently into his skin. Jaskier watched in the mirror behind Yennefer as the cream somehow softened the redness of his burning cheeks while highlighting his freckles.
“Close your eyes,” Yennefer instructed, taking Jaskier’s face in one hand and starting to apply eyeshadow with the other. She swapped the golden glitter for a dark blue shade to bring out the colour of Jaskier's eyes, starting from the inner corner and smudging it up to his eyebrows. She also put a little bit around his lower eyelid. Though it tickled, Jaskier tried his best not to flinch. It was unusual for Yen to be so soft with him and he relished in the entire process.
After completing the same process on the other side, she said he could open his eyes again. Jaskier breathed deeply before he was ready to do so. When he finally looked in the mirror, he was amazed at his reflection, hardly recognizing himself with the transformation.
“Wait…what? Is that really me?” he asked in disbelief, turning his head from side to side to take in the new look. "I never imagined that such a small change could make such a big difference. I look even more handsome than usual.”
Yennefer laughed, “I can see that it didn’t take you so long to get your vanity back. And now that you've realized there's no shame in embracing your feminine side, just wait until I'm finished with you."
She grabbed the mascara wand and ordered him to look up, carefully applying it to his already long lashes, making them look even fuller. "Perfect," she murmured, admiring her handiwork.
Jaskier blinked a few times, adjusting to the sensation of the thickened lashes. "I never would have thought I could pull off this look," he admitted, running a hand through his hair.
"You can pull off anything you want, Jaskier. And finally the lipstick. Excited?” Yennefer asked, holding up a tiny brush.
Jaskier just nodded, pressing his lips together in anticipation. She told him to open up just slightly and then dipped the brush into a blood shade of red and applied it to his lips. He could feel the coolness of the paintbrush against his skin as she carefully traced the outline of his lips. After that, she explained to him how to rub his lips together so the paint would spread to the corners. Then she wiped the smudges around his lips with her fingers.
With a smile, she stepped aside and allowed him to view himself in the mirror. But instead of admiring himself from afar, he stood up and took the mirror into his own hands.
It didn't matter that Jaskier wasn't perfectly shaved and his day-old stubble contrasted strongly with his painted lips. Yennefer thought it looked even better this way, unexpected and shocking.
“I look…beautiful. Thank you, Yen…I had no idea it would make me feel like this, but…it does feel pretty awesome, it's like war paint, I feel invincible,” he said. “And the fact that I look hot is just a bonus,” he smiled warmly and his eyes began to water a bit.
“You look pretty,” Yennefer replied, “just don’t start crying. It would ruin your mascara.”
“Right, that’s something I have to keep in mind now,” they both laughed.
“That’s not the only problem though,” Yen continued, confusing Jaskier. “Your clothes now don't match your face at all,” she added with a mischievous smile.
Yennefer's request left Jaskier feeling uncertain. "Yen...you can’t be serious…even the makeup is too much. I mean, yes, I’m a bard, I’m very fond of all forms of art, including theatre, fashion, and dressing up, but I've never gone this far before."
“There's a first time for everything. Come on, Jaskier, don't spoil the fun while we're still enjoying ourselves!” With that, she got up from her seat and ran to her closet. Jaskier tried to make sense of what was just harmless fun and what was too much even for him.
But before he could say something, Yennefer interrupted his train of thought by pulling out a pair of fishnet tights. "You absolutely have to try these on! Don't just stand there and strip," she exclaimed, brimming with excitement.
Jaskier sighed with resignation and began to take off his shirt. "I should get some kind of reward for satisfying your every whim," he grumbled.
“Oh shut up, I know you secretly love this,” Yennefer replied and kept on rummaging through her closet. “Listen, you wear tights all the time and now all of a sudden you feel the need to protest?”
“Yeah, but I don't normally wear the slutty ones with holes in them, and I always put shorts over them.”
“Off with your pants. You can keep your underwear,” Yennefer declared, emerging from the closet with an armful of clothing.
Jaskier plopped down on the bed and began to slide the stockings up his legs. “I can't say that I don't like it when someone is bossing me around, especially when it involves me getting out of my pants. But I have to admit that it usually happens in completely different circumstances.”
“I also have a confession to make. This is weirdly fucking sexy. Don’t you wish Geralt would come home right now and see you like this?” Yennefer was biting her bottom lip, watching as Jaskier adjusted the stockings.
“You're out of your goddamn mind. Have you gone completely insane? Geralt would never recover from the shock,” Jaskier’s cheeks were burning. “He can’t see me like this.”
“My guess is that you’re underestimating him, but whatever,” she shrugged. “I think you could fit into this corset if I loosen it. What do you say?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow in surprise, unsure if she was serious. But before he could respond, Yennefer was already loosening the ribbon in the back.
“Ha-ha! So now I suddenly have the right to say something, huh?” the bard put his hands on his hips, playfully pretending to be annoyed. Because of the situation he was in, there was no chance he could look serious even if he wanted to. “I think it’ll fit,” he added quietly.
Jaskier approached Yennefer, turning his back towards her and lifting his arms so she could slide the corset over his head. It was the most intimate moment they had ever shared, despite years of friendship. Jaskier was vulnerable in a way that he would not allow anyone else to see. Yennefer's hands trembled, despite the fact that the idea had been hers. The air in the room felt charged with a different energy.
After tightening the ribbon from the top down to his tailbone, Yennefer turned Jaskier to face her. "This is intense, isn't it? I feel like I could burst into tears or start laughing hysterically any minute now," she confessed.
“And you're standing here fully dressed in clothes matching your gender. Can you even begin to imagine how I feel?” Jaskier also looked like he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry first.
“I really cannot. Should we put you in a dress and really make it a party? I'm sure it’ll all start making more sense then."
Jaskier's lips quirked upwards in a half-smile. "Are you sure about that?" Yennefer couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed even bluer and more intense at that moment.
Yennefer pointed to a black dress with sheer sleeves that lay on the bed. "I picked this one for you," she said. "The buttons are at the back, so I'll have to help you with putting it on again."
Jaskier nodded and replied seriously. “Women don't fucking have it easy if they can't even dress up without help,” Jaskier said seriously.
Yennefer wrinkled her nose and pulled up her upper lip. "You either have to be very flexible, have a maid, or let your man help you," she said.
Jaskier was no stranger to clothing and could easily recognize a fancy fabric. As he felt the material against his skin, he knew this was definitely an expensive dress. The sheer sleeves were pleasantly cool, causing the hairs on his forearm to stand up.
The neckline was made of the same see-through fabric and finished at the top with a black velvet ribbon. The dress flowed down to his ankles, and there was a daring slit on the left side that reached up to his waist.
Jaskier expressed his concern, "This is a fancy dress, are you sure I won't ruin it?"
Yennefer reassured him, "Don't worry, the fabric is stretchy. And even if it does tear, it's worth it. I got it as a present from a duke, one I didn't like anyway."
As Yennefer fastened the tiny buttons on the back, they heard footsteps on the stairs. The sound made them freeze for a moment before Jaskier began to panic.
“Fucking hell, oh dear gods, what if it’s Geralt? I swear to gods, that’s Geralt for sure. I need to take everything off this very moment. Help me!” Jaskier tried to reach the buttons himself, but that was impossible. “I can’t let him see me like this.”
Yennefer tried to calm him down, "Relax, it's probably just the caretaker. And even if it is Geralt, he's seen worse. Remember that time we had to dress you up as a woman to distract the guards?" she teased, finally finishing with the buttons.
Jaskier groaned at the memory, "Don't remind me," he muttered, though he knew she was right. They had been in worse situations before. “This is different, though,” he added feeling self-conscious in the elegant dress.
As the footsteps grew louder, Yennefer grabbed Jaskier's hand and swiftly guided him into the closet, like a secret lover. “Ok. We don’t have time for taking it off again. Be quiet,” she whispered, while he covered his mouth with his hand.
Yennefer quickly sat down on the bed and grabbed a book from the nightstand just as Geralt burst into the room.
"Yen, have you seen Jaskier? I can't find him anywhere," Geralt asked as he walked in, still dressed in his hunting uniform and smelling of pine needles.
“No, have you tried the kitchen? Marianne is making fruit dumplings, so he might be there…” Yennefer replied, trying her best to look innocent.
“Yennefer, you gotta be kidding me! You know I can feel Jaskier’s presence in the room, right? I can smell his sweat and his chamomile shampoo. I can even hear his rapid heartbeat. So would you be so kind as to explain what is Jaskier doing in your closet?” Geralt's face displayed a mixture of confusion, anger, and hurt.
“My advice would be to start talking sooner rather than later. I'm losing patience,” he crossed his arms over his chest.
Yennefer leapt out of bed, rushing to Geralt's side. "Please, don't be mad. It's not what you think. It was just a silly idea, we were fooling around…," she pleaded, placing her hands on his shoulders.¨
Meanwhile, Jaskier was in the closet, going crazy, sweat running down his spine, feeling like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He cursed himself for being so stupid and wondered how he could possibly explain this to Geralt.
"I don't like this, not one bit," Geralt grumbled, brushing past Yennefer's attempts to stop him. "Don't open the door," she said, but it was too late.
The door flew open, revealing Jaskier crouched among Yennefer's dresses, his face buried in his hands. "Jaskier, what the f--" Geralt's voice trailed off as he took in the sight before him. The bard was shivering and covered in sweat, clearly terrified of the situation he found himself in.
"Jaskier," Geralt's voice softened as he crouched down to be on eye level with him. "I don't understand what's going on, but you surely don't think I would hurt you, right, silly?" He reached out to gently take Jaskier's hand and slowly pulled it away from his face, revealing his expression.
Jaskier had never seen Geralt look so flushed before, his face a deep shade of red. It was clear that he found the whole situation impossibly embarrassing, but Jaskier couldn't tell if Geralt was just embarrassed, angry, or some combination of both.
Jaskier mustered up the courage to speak, his voice barely audible. "Geralt," he managed to say. He didn’t know how to start, how to tread gently, not to break anything. "I know this looks bad, but please let me explain." He felt the weight of the situation hanging over him, unsure of how Geralt would react.
Yennefer interrupted him, “No, I should be the one explaining, I was the one encouraging him to try new things--…”
Geralt cut her off gently. "Yen, will you please leave us alone? I'm not angry, I just want to talk to Jaskier alone." The bard felt a wave of relief wash over him. He agreed that it would be better if they talked alone. He would rather explain his stupid little desires without Yennefer being present even though she was the one helping him explore them. Admitting everything out loud was a completely different story, though.
“Yes, Yen, please, it’ll be okay,” Jaskier reassured her.
After she left and closed the door, Geralt sat beside Jaskier on the bed and traced his cheekbone with his thumb. His own cheeks were still hot, and his eyes were gleaming with curiosity.
"So...what the fuck is going on? What does it all mean?"
Jaskier cleared his throat and explained, “Well, I was just sitting here, watching Yen put on her makeup…and she asked me if I wanted…to try it as well. And I said yes.
He looked up at Geralt through his long, mascara-coated lashes and swallowed hard.
“What d’you…what do you think?” it was suddenly more difficult to fill his lungs with air.
“What do I think?” Geralt’s eyes widen as if he weren’t able to take in everything he saw. “I think you look…different…but pretty just the same…well, you always look pretty…I meant to say that you look…you look absolutely stunning. Like unreal gorgeous.”
Jaskier's lips stretched into the widest, brightest smile, and without thinking, he leaned in to kiss Geralt, pouring all the tension that had been building up between them into the kiss. The witcher kissed him back eagerly, pulling him close impatiently and flinching slightly as he felt Jaskier's arms under the cool, glossy fabric.
As they pulled away a moment later, Geralt had a messy smudge of lipstick on his lips as well.
“Ok, this can wait,” he said, gesturing in a wide circle around Jaskier's body. “What really bothers me is that it seemed like you were afraid I was gonna…hit you.” It was obvious that saying this was like pushing himself over the cliff.
“You must know that I would never use force on you. I would never ever hurt you in any way, do you know that?” He looked deep into Jaskier’s eyes and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
“Yes, of course, I know that. The whole situation was just stupid, and it escalated so quickly and completely unnecessarily…I just got scared that you would freak out about what Yen and I were doing here...I wasn't thinking,” Jaskier said, lowering his gaze and shaking his head.
“I love you, Jaskier, I’m just a little confused and disappointed that you thought I’d be mad about something so insignificant,” Geralt confessed, his voice low and tender.
Jaskier let out a hearty chuckle. "Insignificant? You think this is insignificant? Yen was right, I was wildly underestimating you," he replied, still amused but also grateful for Geralt's understanding.
Geralt's smile widened. "I guess Yen was right then, as she often is." He leaned in a little closer to Jaskier. "I actually find it kind of sexy," he said, his voice roughening on the last word.
Jaskier felt his jaw drop. "You do?" His voice went up an octave in surprise.
“I do,” he confirmed once again. “Let me take a good look at you,” he said, his voice still rumbling deep in his chest.
He was looking at Jaskier longingly. His makeup was all messed up, mascara and eyeshadow smudged around the eyes, and lipstick ruined by kissing, but he still looked beautiful.
“Let me see what you’re wearing. Let me see with my hands…” Geralt whispered, his hands gliding over Jaskier’s arms and up to his collarbones, where he placed soft kisses. He felt the lacing of the corset and traced it with his fingers, before moving his lips to Jaskier's neck, planting kisses and bites while moaning softly in his ear. Each touch sent shivers down Jaskier's spine, leaving him breathless and yearning for more.
"Jesus, Geralt, I had no idea...if I’d known what it does to you, I would’ve tried it way sooner," Jaskier panted, visibly aroused. Geralt's desire for Jaskier was undeniable. He pulled Jaskier closer by the waist, slipping his hand through the slit in the dress between his legs. The sensation of the fishnet tights sent a jolt of electricity through Geralt's body, and he gasped at the feeling.
"My head is very confused but my dick is clear on this," Geralt said, his voice rough. "I want to fuck you, Jaskier." With that, he pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him
while shoving one hand between his legs, spreading them apart.
Jaskier shivered, a thrill coursing through his body at the raw intensity of Geralt's words. "Yes, please," he breathed, his eyes locked on Geralt's. “You seem to like the tights quite a bit,” Jaskier continued breathlessly, a laugh mingling with his moans.
“I’ll like them, even more, when they’re gone,” Geralt replied, his voice low and husky as he ran his hand up Jaskier's leg to his waist.
Jaskier shuddered at the touch, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Do as you wish," he gasped, "but please don't tear them or else Yennefer will kill me."
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