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The first thing Jaskier was aware of when he woke up that morning was the all-encompassing warmth that surrounded him, so comfortable it took him a good while to even form a single coherent thought. It was toasty under the heavy duvet Jaskier had insisted on buying just before the last winter, the thick fabric doing wonders to keep in his body heat, and that of his companion.
When Jaskier moved his head to press his face further into the pillow under him, he realised mutely that he’d been drooling in the night. As relaxed as he was though, he couldn’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut tighter against the pale morning light.
Gods, why didn’t Eskel get some curtains already? The witcher sleeping next to him insisted they weren’t needed since he was up at dawn most days anyway - but what about Jaskier? Why should he have to suffer because of Eskel’s apparent lack of interior design?
Said witcher was still asleep at Jaskier’s back. ‘Rise with the sun, my ass.’ He thought, smugly. The couple had started the night spooning comfortably, whispering their goodnights into the dark. But inevitably, the same as every other morning spent together, they awoke in all-together different positions. Jaskier was mostly on his stomach with Eskel splayed out half on top of him and ruffling the small hairs on the back of Jaskier’s neck each time he let out a breath. Somehow, one of Eskel’s legs was under Jaskier, bent at a position that would’ve been painful for anyone else.
Despite the crushing weight of the mass of muscle behind him, Jaskier had to smile. It wasn’t often he got to enjoy a sleepy Eskel like this. More often than not, he’d be up before Jaskier stirred, either bringing him breakfast in bed or busy training with his brothers.
Considering the grip that Eskel often had when he slept, his earlier waking time was probably a good thing. If he’d been an oversleeper, Jaskier would have been stuck in bed for hours with him until the other woke up. He’d already had to say goodbye to midnight privy breaks since beginning his relationship with the other, he was only grateful that his captivity and night didn’t extend any further.
Being held captive in such nice, warm arms though, wasn’t exactly Jaskier’s idea of hardship. He sighed happily, a small smile on his face as the movement of his chest caused Eskel to shift.
Ah, his witcher was likely awake then. He’d probably been waiting for Jaskier to wake up too. The bard smiled at that - he really did love Eskel’s good morning kisses, bad breath be damned. He snuggled back further into the witcher happily, making a soft noise that universally meant warmth and contentment.
He’d just begun to doze off again when he felt Eskel press several light kisses to his temple, morning stubble scratching in a way that should’ve been uncomfortable but wasn’t. He was practically much under the witcher. Jaskier always loved affection from anyone but it was always best coming from his lover. When the attention moved to the shell of his ear, Eskel gave him a little squeeze.
A cold nose rubbed at the sensitive skin just behind his ear after a moment in a gesture Jaskier had come to recognise as scenting. There was something possessive about the action but something comforting also, Eskel checking his scent for any kinds of illness or distress whilst simultaneously covering him with his own. Jaskier didn’t have a nose powerful enough for the scenting to make any difference but he had to doubt that to those that did, he smelled of nothing but witcher. The bard settled into it and let Eskel have his way with him. Lie-ins were uncommon enough at Kaer Morhern. He was going to make the most of it even if it killed him.
Eyes still closed as he submitted himself, Jaskier heard the wind whistling harshly outside and through the small cracks in the ageing stone wall of the bedroom. The storm had been blowing for two and a half days with no sign of abating, much to the witcher’s annoyance. Jaskier could appreciate it’s up-sides though. With training indoors and no repairs being done, he had far more access to Eskel than he would normally; not to mention being able to watch them train and get all sweaty without having to bundle himself up in three coats with a hot drink.
Saying that, though, the harsh winds and the even colder weather meant the keep would be more draughty than usual - not that it wasn’t already, of course. That winter, the east wing had begun to cave in. Not yet properly blocked off, the frigid air that got through turned many of the corridors into freezing little tunnels. Jaskier certainly wasn’t looking forward to leaving their nice, warm bed.
He couldn’t bring himself to care much for the future though and simply burrowed down further into the mattress, shuffling to squirrel himself away even further under Eskel’s bulk. Even more comfortable than before, it wasn’t long before Jaskier’s eyes began to roll behind his eyelids, drifting off once again.
The cold jolted him back awake again as the duvet around him was lifted. Fuck, why was their room this freezing? The fire had gone out during the night but Jaskier thought the room should have retained at least a little of its heat. He made a grumpy, alarmed sound when the cold air hit his bare, still tender ass and then another when he felt the mattress behind him dip, signalling that Eskel was getting up.
More disgruntled noises fell from his lips, half formed protests that he wasn’t coherent enough to voice yet. When Eskel sat up on the edge of the bed, Jaskier rolled into the space he’d vacated, attracted to the residual heat like a moth to a flame. Why couldn’t Eskel allow himself even one lie-in this winter? Jaskier thought winters were supposed to be for relaxing.
Grumpily, he curled himself around Eskel’s lower back, dragging the duvet with him and pressing his face into the other man’s naked hip. He wasn’t sure when Eskel had become so heartless as to let the cold assault him like this, but he didn’t like it. The witcher only snorted at Jaskier’s disheveled appearance and caressed his messy hair for a moment.
“If I don't get up now, Vesemir will pile me with twice as many chores to do. That means half as much time I get to spend with you later…” Jaskier loved how soft Eskel’s voice could be in moments like this. It was a tone only reserved for the bard and Jaskier wasn’t sure he’d heard Eskel use it anywhere else. Even so, Jaskier made another grumpy sound at the thought of Eskel leaving. “You have no sense of deferred gratification, sweetheart.” Eskel chuckled and stood.
Jaskier made a wounded sound at the loss, practically shrivelling up in on himself as Eskel pulled on trousers and a shirt. Within seconds he was already missing the unnaturally hot warmth Eskel’s body provided. Eskel only smiled to himself at the dramatics but made no move to give Jaskier the attention he obviously sought.
He continued to make small grumpy sounds, calling Eskel back to bed in his own language. With the duvet curled around him as it was, only his hair was visible, sticking out in more directions that should have been possible, thoroughly messed up from sleeping and the activities that had preceded it.
When Eskel sat down on the bed once more to pull his boots on, Jaskier wasted no time in cosying up to him again. As the other man leaned over to tie the laces, broad back and all its strength on display, Jaskier finally had a burst of energy. It wasn’t a big burst - just enough to allow him to sit up and plaster himself to Eskel’s back. Jaskier threw his arms over his shoulders and did his level best to get as close to the other as possible. Although his body heat was muted because of the shirt, it was still warmer than the rest of the room.
Boots tied, Eskel leaned into the clumsy embrace with a smile, kissing Jaskier’s bicep where it rested just above his collar bone. Eskel had spent far too many decades of his life alone to push Jaskier away.
“I love you…” He murmured, still leaning against the other. Jaskier’s reply was incomprehensible, as non-verbal as he was this early. It sounded vaguely like ‘I love you too’ so Eskel simply accepted it as that. “...I really do need to go now though…” More grumpy sounds followed.
Deciding to just bite the bullet, Eskel stood. Jaskier, predictably, clung on.
“Jask…” If anything, the light chiding only made Jaskier hang on tighter. Eskel was half-choked under the grip. “Really need to get some breakfast… I can bring you up something if you’d like?” Eskel tried to bribe him but Jaskier was immune. He’s been stubborn enough to travel with Geralt for years - there was nothing anyone could make him do if he didn’t want to.
Eskel sighed heavily, mostly for show, and accepted his fate.
Leaning to the side and inadvertently taking Jaskier with him, he snagged a blanket from the foot of the bed, flipping it behind him to cover Jaskier’s naked form. Half the keep had likely seen Jaskier naked by now but there was no need to subject them to the sight this early.
Jaskier accepted the blanket but didn’t loosen his grip. Eskel simply stood and took Jaskier with him instead, hands under the other’s thighs to stop himself from actually being choked. With a quick check to make sure the blanket was still covering everywhere important, Eskel left the room, ready to face his family with a naked man clinging to his back.
The bard would have purred if he could, warm and relaxed, cuddling up against Eskel’s warmth. Apart from being back in bed, he could think of nowhere else he’d rather be. He relaxed his arms and allowed Eskel’s own to take more of his weight now he was sure the witcher had accepted the inevitable. His rhythmic footsteps and movements was almost enough to make Jaskier doze off again before they entered the main hall.
“Are you fucking naked under that?” Lambert asked. Evidently not a morning person either, he was unable to summon his usual venom and instead simply sounded exasperated.
“I got him a blanket…” Eskel defended himself with a shrug, jostling Jaskier enough for him to open his eyes and let out another grumpy noise. Lambert seemed content to let the matter go, although Eskel knew Vesemir would no doubt have more to say about it later.
All too soon, Jaskier found himself deposited in an armchair that had been dragged close to the large cooking fire along the wall. He tried to fight it as Eskel pried him off but the witcher wouldn’t take no for an answer. As he was covered with a second, and then a third blanket though, Jaskier realised that the armchair might not have been as bad as he’d first thought. Relinquishing his prize, he bundled himself up in the blankets again, eyes half closed as a bowl of porridge was pressed into his hands.
He watched blearily as the witchers began to warm up for their morning training from across the room, stretching and limbering up their muscles. Jaskier’s eyes were drawn to the flex of Eskel’s biceps as he started in on his breakfast, salivating not only at the food but at the way the muscles bulged under the shirt he wore.
‘Yes.’ Jaskier thought. ‘This is good. Maybe i should play this card more often.’