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love it when you love me

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It happened by accident.

It’s been just over a couple months since Jaskier made his move on Geralt. They rarely stick together for this long, but Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to go. If he could, he would stay by Geralt’s side for the rest of time. For one thing, he was always in need of new material for his songs and much as he savored Geralt’s company when he wasn’t on a job, he was still entirely too stingy with the details of his hunts. It was better for both of them that Jaskier came along. Better songs meant better tips meant better accommodations which, at the end of the day, meant fucking on a bed instead of the ground. Better all around, really. So Jaskier stuck around.

Anyways. It happened by accident. Geralt went out to hunt a werewolf. Nothing extraordinary there, so Jaskier didn’t argue when Geralt told him to stay behind.

“I’ll have a bath waiting for you when you get back,” Jaskier said instead, flashing a bright smile at Geralt and earning a soft ‘hmm’ that Jaskier recognized for the thanks it was.

Geralt did return later that night, his purse slightly heavier with coin and sporting a few new bruises, but no worse for wear. Jaskier had just had the bath readied for him so it was still nice and hot when Geralt entered their room.

“I take it that everything went smoothly?”

“As smoothly as fighting a werewolf can,” Geralt responded.

Jaskier watched him undress, carefully removing his armor and setting it aside. His plainclothes were treated with far less care, haphazardly dropped to the floor as he lifted a leg over the edge of the tub and quickly sank into the warm water. Jaskier has already removed his doublet, now he rolled up his sleeves and went to the soap he had lined up for Geralt already.

He grabbed a cloth and dipped it into the water before pouring a little soap into it, gathering it into a lather while Geralt made himself comfortable. His head was tipped back, resting against the edge while his arms were propped up on the sides, and his eyes were closed. Jaskier walked around behind Geralt, making sure his footsteps were heard. The last thing he needed was to accidentally sneak up on Geralt and get punched in the face. He pulled up a stool and sat down by the tub and immediately got to work. He started with the arm closest to him, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles. The smell of pine, one of the more subtle smells that didn’t bother Geralt too much, permeated the warm air and Jaskier could hear Geralt’s relaxed rumbling as he washed away the dirt and sweat of the past few days.

He washed Geralt’s other arm next, then moved to his shoulders, washing slowly before taking the time to work out some of the knots. Digging his thumb into a particularly tough one elicited a groan and Jaskier smiled before continuing.



Jaskier chuckled softly before pushing at Geralt’s back. Geralt, to his credit, leaned forward almost immediately so that Jaskier could drag the washcloth over the scars decorating his back. He even pulled his hair over his shoulder to get it out of the way.

He worked diligently, moving Geralt this way and that when he needed to reach a different spot. Beyond quiet directions, neither of them spoke much. This was one of the few instances where Jaskier didn’t feel the need to constantly fill the silence. The gentle slosh of the water coupled with Geralt’s own relaxed noises was more than enough. Jaskier relished the ability to appreciate every inch of the Witcher’s body and he knew better than to spoil moments like this. Lovers or not, Jaskier was still a pain in the ass and Geralt never hesitated to let him know.

Eventually, Jaskier ran out of body to wash, save for a certain appendage below the water’s surface. Geralt seemed to realize it too, because when Jaskier looked at him, the Witcher was already watching, yellow eyes wide with a familiar hunger.

“Something I can help you with, my good man?” Jaskier asked, not bothering to hide the cheeky grin on his face.

Geralt rose up out of the water and Jaskier felt his mouth go slightly dry as he watched the water drip from hard muscles. His eyes went straight to Geralt’s cock, where it hung heavy between his legs. Geralt said nothing, simply looked down at Jaskier, and for whatever reason Jaskier felt like torturing him a bit longer.

“Well come on, use your words like a good boy.”

The deep red flush that crept from the top of Geralt’s head down to his chest coupled with the clearly interested twitch of his cock in front of Jaskier’s face was impossible to miss. Jaskier felt his grin widen until Geralt abruptly snatched the washcloth out of his hands and hastily finished bathing. He barely bothered to rinse himself clean before he was stepping out of the bath and tracking water across the floor to grab a towel and wrap it around his waist.

“Geralt, wait a minute!” Jaskier jumped up from the stool and rushed over, aiming to reach out and grab Geralt’s arm.

Geralt dodged Jaskier and leaned down to grab his clothes from the floor. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh come on Geralt, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Shut up Jaskier.”
“Geralt, I’m serious. I didn’t laugh at you or anything. I’m not judging you.”

Jaskier was relieved when Geralt didn’t pull away this time, though he could still feel the tension in his body. He slowly stepped closer until he was standing in front of Geralt, who despite everything was still semi-hard beneath the towel.

“You liked it when I said that, didn’t you?” Jaskier murmured quietly, like Geralt was a horse he didn’t want to spook.

The flush renewed and Geralt looked off to the side, refusing to meet Jaskier’s eyes.

“It’s okay to like that. People like different things, everyone has something.”


Jaskier could guess a thousand reasons why, but he wasn’t going to press Geralt for that kind of deep conversation right now. All he wanted was to capitalize on this new information and make Geralt feel good.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s...incredibly attractive actually.”

That at least seemed to give Geralt pause. Yellow eyes flicked over to Jaskier, eyebrow raised in something like suspicion, before he finally turned to give Jaskier his full attention.


“Yes, ‘incredibly’ I believe is the word I used.”


“How is it attractive? Surely you can figure that out for yourself.”

Jaskier watched as Geralt’s face turned the faintest shade of pink.

“...Maybe I want to hear you say it.”

Ah, there it was. Well, far be it from Jaskier to deny Geralt the reassurance he sought so desperately.

“It’s attractive, my dear Wolf, because you are attractive. And the idea that you want to be good for me, to please me,” Jaskier pauses to revel in the sharp intake of breath Geralt sucks in. “Is one of the sexiest things I could possibly ask for in a lover.”

There’s a beat as Jaskier feels Geralt searching his face, as though looking for any sort of indication that Jaskier is fucking with him. Jaskier’s face is open and honest though, and finally Geralt gives him an imperceptible nod.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jaskier asked. He didn’t give Geralt a chance to answer, instead leaning forward to finally close the rest of the distance between them to capture his lips in a kiss. He ran his hands up and down Geralt’s arms, skin still damp from the bath, before wrapping them around the Witcher’s neck to keep him close.

It took Geralt a moment but he swiftly relaxed into the kiss, tongue working its way into Jaskier’s mouth and swallowing his moan. Then Jaskier felt Geralt’s arms around him, pressing their bodies together from shoulder to hip. Already he could feel Geralt’s length getting hard against him, and with this new delicious insight into Geralt’s desires, Jaskier wanted to see exactly what his wolf could do.

Jaskier pulled away enough to run a hand down Geralt’s chest, slipping beneath the towel and running the tip of his finger in a small circle around the head of his cock. It was a merciless tease. Geralt let out a huff but made no move to stop or urge Jaskier on.

“Mmm, good boy, staying still for me.”

“Fuck, Jaskier…”

“In due time. I think first I want to see how far this kink of yours goes.”

Geralt stared at him, eyes hungry and if Jaskier wasn’t so elated by the prospect of having Geralt under his control even a little bit, he might have broken and rode Geralt until they both came screaming. Jaskier forced himself to remain calm, wrapping his hand around Geralt’s cock and giving it a few slow strokes, coaxing Geralt to full hardness. He stopped there though, and to Geralt’s obvious displeasure, Jaskier pulled away.

Jaskier quickly removed his clothes, his hesitation all but gone. Geralt had gone a long way towards convincing him that he wasn’t bothered by Jaskier’s body, nor did he find it to be some ‘exotic fantasy’ like some past lovers. Geralt simply appreciated Jaskier for who he was, and the feeling was certainly mutual. It made Jaskier ache to think about how deep his feelings for the Witcher ran. He didn’t want to think about if those feelings were entirely mutual. Right now, this was enough. To know that Geralt wasn’t disgusted by him and did in fact desire him in at least some capacity, that was enough. Especially now that he had the opportunity to test that desire in such a fun way.

Geralt seemed to pick up on the faraway gleam in Jaskier’s eye because the next thing he knew, Geralt was pressing him back onto the bed. His head hit the pillow and Geralt leaned down and captured his lips in a fierce kiss. It was almost enough to make Jaskier forget what he was attempting to do. Almost.

He pulled back just enough to break the kiss and then tapped the tip of Geralt’s nose with his finger. “Naughty boy. I thought we agreed I was in charge tonight?”

Geralt scoffed. “Is that what you think? That you’re in charge?”

“Actually I do, but only because you want me to be,” Jaskier said, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Geralt’s hair. He gives an experimental tug and Geralt lets out a harsh gasp, his breath ghosting over Jaskier’s lips. “I thought you wanted to be good for me?”

“I...fuck,” Geralt grit his teeth and ground his hips down against Jaskier once when he tugged on his hair again. “Yes, damn it.”

“Yes what? I want to hear you say it.”

“I want to be...good. For you.”

Jaskier uses his grip on Geralt’s hair to pull him into a kiss, nipping at Geralt’s bottom lip and grinning at the outright moan that comes out. “There’s my good boy. I knew you could do it.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Geralt grumbled.

“I’d wager you’re enjoying it too, if ,this-” Jaskier brought his thigh up and rubbed it between Geralt’s legs for emphasis. “-is any indication.”

Geralt chose not to dignify that with a response, instead meeting Jaskier’s thigh and rutting against it until Jaskier took it away.

“Why don’t you show me how good you can be?” Jaskier raised an eyebrow at Geralt. “Then maybe I’ll let you have some fun of your own.”

“You’re going to be insufferable until I play along, aren’t you?”

“Only because I know you want to play along,” Jaskier replied, hesitating a moment before continuing. “If you genuinely don’t like this though, we can stop.”

There was a beat where Geralt didn’t react and it was enough to make Jaskier start to panic a bit. He opened his mouth to apologize, because he obviously misread the entire situation and he needed to immediately crawl in a hole and never come out-

The next moment, Geralt surged forward and Jaskier let out a very undignified squeak when Geralt’s lips crashed against his own. Geralt’s cock was against his thigh once more, still achingly hard and wet at the tip. Jaskier let out a moan, granting Geralt’s tongue access past his lips. He threw his arms around Geralt’s neck and tangled his fingers in Geralt’s hair once more, tugging on it and earning another deep rumble from the Witcher. Geralt pulled away after a moment and looked down at Jaskier with a fond tilt of his head.

“I thought that this,” Jaskier let out a quiet groan when he felt Geralt’s cock rub against him again. “Was all the proof you needed?”

“Well, I...You...Oh would you just shut up and suck my cock already? Honestly who’s the insufferable one here?”

Despite his impatience, Jaskier grinned into the next kiss and helpfully tilted his head back when Geralt nosed his way down. He let Geralt take his time, content for the time being to simply bask in the attention that Geralt showered upon him. He felt warm breath ghost over his nipple and let out a gasp, hand coming up to comb through Geralt’s hair. Jaskier chuckled when he realized it was still soaking wet. His fingers slid easily through the silky strands and he felt as much as he heard Geralt’s appreciative hum when he scratched his scalp.

“I should have picked up on this a lot sooner,” Jaskier murmured, meeting Geralt’s gaze fondly as Geralt swirled his tongue around that same nipple. “You just want to make me happy, don’t you?”

Jaskier watched as Geralt swallowed and nodded silently.

“Speak up darling. I want to hear you say it.”

“I…” Geralt cleared his throat and Jaskier smiled at the blush creeping up Geralt’s face. “I want to make you happy.”

“And you do. You make me so happy.” Jaskier poured every ounce of sincerity into his words as he could, smiling when Geralt dropped his forehead against his stomach and let out a sharp breath.

“You keep talking and I’m not going to be able to focus.”

Jaskier laughed then and pet Geralt’s hair in a placating gesture. “Alright, I’ll ease up, but only because I really, really want you to focus.”

He did back off, knowing that if he pushed his luck, Geralt might get too embarrassed and call the whole thing off. To Jaskier, Geralt didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about. He found it incredibly attractive that Geralt was so receptive to praising words. It made so much sense now that he thought about it. People rarely ever thanked Geralt or told him he did a good thing. Instead he was usually met with indirect suspicion or outright prejudice. No matter what he said, Jaskier knew it had to affect Geralt. Nobody could deal with that constantly and not come out of it feeling a little worse for wear.

The thought made Jaskier immeasurably sad for the witcher, but it also sparked something in him. A fire, not unlike the fire he felt when he decided to change people’s tune when it came to Geralt of Rivia. If he was truly going to help Geralt, he needed to focus on Geralt’s perception of himself as well.

Lost in his train of thought, Jaskier didn’t realize Geralt had finished his slow descent until he felt Geralt’s tongue flick against cock. Just a light flick, but it was enough to bring Jaskier’s attention back to the present situation. Geralt did it a second time, then he dipped his head lower to lick a stripe up through Jaskier’s slick cunt and this drew a desperate moan out of Jaskier.

“That feels so good Geralt,” Jaskier whispers. Geralt responded by pressing his mouth against Jaskier and running tongue back and forth, lapping at him like a thirsty dog.

Jaskier soon lost himself in the feeling of Geralt’s mouth on him, alternating between sucking gently at his cock and teasing his hole with the tip of his tongue. Every time Jaskier felt himself get close, Geralt would switch tactics, until Jaskier was a whining, writhing mess beneath him.

“Yes, gods yes Geralt, you’re so good for me,” Jaskier panted, fingers firmly tangled in Geralt’s hair now. “Don’t tease anymore. Be a good boy and make me come, yeah?”

At that, Geralt let out an absolutely feral growl and pressed himself impossibly closer to Jaskier’s cunt. If Geralt wasn’t a witcher, Jaskier might be concerned about him suffocating himself, but then the suction around his cock increased and Jaskier could feel the heat that had been building in his core finally burst. He came with a long, low cry and he felt the muscles in his thighs tense up until his legs were shaking from the strain. Still, Geralt kept going, carrying Jaskier through the waves and aftershocks until he fell limp on the bed. After that, Jaskier had to push Geralt’s head away before pleasure turned to pain.

Jaskier let out a soft noise when Geralt looked up and he could see the mess on his face. His chin was glistening with slick and when he was sure Jaskier was looking, he made a show of licking his lips and drawing some of that slickness back into his mouth.

“Fucking hell Geralt, you eat cunt like its the only thing keeping you alive.”

Geralt just let out a satisfied hum in response and moved until he was hovering over Jaskier once again. His cock was still hard, probably painfully so at this point, and he was rocking slowly so that his cock slipped against Jaskier’s hole, catching but never going inside.

“Something you want, my dear?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt’s voice rumbled low in his ear. “Want to fuck you.”

“I hardly think that’s a proper way to ask for such a reward.”

Geralt whined and oh Jaskier was going to savor that sound for the rest of his life. “Jas. Please.”

“Mmm full sentences please.”

Jaskier was having too much fun with this. Already he was thinking about how to make Geralt putty in his hands while also making him realize that he was good, that he deserved to be treated with kindness and respect. Geralt deserved so much more than he often received, and when he looked at Jaskier with that desperate pleading gaze, Jaskier couldn’t imagine denying him any longer.

“Jaskier, please let me fuck you.”

Jaskier grinned and leaned up to whisper in Geralt’s ear. “All you need do is ask, my love.”

Geralt wasted no time, sliding into him in one smooth motion and making Jaskier shout at the sudden stretch. There was no burn, just a slight discomfort that went away almost immediately and Jaskier was thankful once again that even when he wasn’t bossing Geralt around, the witcher never entered him without some kind of preparation prior.

“Oh Geralt, you feel so good inside me,” Jaskier murmured, reaching up to grab Geralt’s thick shoulders while he began to set a quick pace. “Fill me up so perfectly.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt moaned, and Jaskier knew he wasn’t going to last long. Witcher stamina or no, it was clear that he’d been keyed up the entire time he’d attended to Jaskier, and he was desperately chasing his release now, thrusting erratically as he tried to hit that spot inside Jaskier. Even in the throes of his own desire, Geralt was trying to please him.

“Just a bit more darling, hold on just a bit longer,” Jaskier began to roll his hips in time with Geralt’s thrusts, heat curling in his belly once more as another tidal wave of pleasure threatened to crash over him.

He was close, spurred on both by the feeling of Geralt inside him as well as the look on Geralt’s face. It was the most open and vulnerable he’d ever seen Geralt and Jaskier loved him. He’d loved him for a long time, he realized, perhaps from the moment he first saw the witcher in Posada. Jaskier has been in love before but it has never felt like this, like for once his heart isn’t the only one open and bleeding.

Jaskier let out a choked cry as Geralt finally hit that spot inside him, and he swore he could see stars. He reached down between his body and Geralt’s and began to stroke himself with two fingers, holding himself at the edge until he could see that Geralt couldn’t hold on any longer. He put his other hand on the back of Geralt’s neck and squeezed just enough to get his attention.

When Geralt looked down at him, Jaskier stared back and uttered one more gentle command.

“Come for me, Geralt.”

He feels it, the moment Geralt lets go, and Jaskier follows him a moment later. He felt the way Geralt buried himself deep, felt how his walls clenched around Geralt’s cock, practically milking his orgasm out of him. For a few long moments, he and Geralt wore matching expressions, mouths hanging open in silent screams as every part of them seized up and stilled while wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over them.

When it subsided, Jaskier collapsed against the bed and let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. Geralt followed suit, keeping himself upright just long enough to pull out and roll so he didn’t crush Jaskier in the bed. Then, without warning, Jaskier felt Geralt shift and move his arm until it was wrapped around him. The next thing he felt was Geralt’s hair, now a tangled damp mess, splayed across his chest. Jaskier didn’t say anything, but he did attempt to comb out some of the new knots in Geralt’s hair. The contented sigh that ghosted over his chest was enough to assure Jaskier that this was alright.

He wasn’t sure how long they lay like that, silent in the afterglow with Geralt honest to gods cuddled up to him, but he is acutely aware of when Geralt breaks the silence.

“Thank you.”

Jaskier tilted his head up just enough to look at Geralt as he propped his chin on Jaskier’s chest. “For what?”

“For...all of that. Everything.”

Geralt still looked so soft. Every hard line on his face seemed smoother now. Jaskier wondered briefly if Geralt looked like this back before he became a witcher. If there was ever a time before now that his brow wasn’t creased with the weight of his responsibilities. He reached out and stroked his thumb across Geralt’s cheek and smiled when it earned him a pleased rumble.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Jaskier said quietly. “It was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Geralt snorted, but there was no real fight in it. He simply turned onto his side and manhandled Jaskier until he was wrapped around Geralt, arm thrown over his waist and forehead pressed between his shoulder blades. Jaskier smiled and placed a quick kiss there before adjusting into a more comfortable position.

“Good night Geralt.”

“Good night Jaskier.”

Jaskier stayed up until he heard Geralt’s breath even out into the telltale pattern of sleep, and then he whispered into the warmth of Geralt’s skin.

“I love you.”