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[lovelybottom]

                  

Hm.

[Silence. In the background, a faint, admonishing Geralt! can be heard.]

Call the bard.

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[lovelybottom]

[Jaskier, of course, could sleep wherever he wanted to sleep. If that's five rooms down the hall, than Geralt would not object. If that's in another bed in the same room, he would similarly not object. There's nothing that requires them to stay in the same room to be traveling companions, after all. Jaskier could travel with him just as well while sleeping in a different room at the inn, or, hell, staying in a completely different establishment. They need only be as physically close as Jaskier is comfortable with.]

[The bard's hand goes from poking him to simply resting on his chest, roughly in the vicinity of his heart. In reality, it's slightly more to the left, but Jaskier's a bard, not a physician. Geralt doesn't expect him to know all that much about anatomy, except for his thorough and in-depth studies of the intimates of both sexes.]

[He asks about whether their sleeping arrangement has been uncomfortable for Geralt, and there's some irony in him asking this now-- earlier in their acquaintance, Jaskier had done a great many things that had made Geralt uncomfortable, and he hadn't cared nearly as much. Practically everything that he had done, in fact, had been a discomfort to Geralt in some form or another. His songs, his restless fidgeting, the way he wouldn't shut up, even when he was asleep. He had eventually adapted to it, as he had adapted to all aspects of having the bard in his life.]

No. Of all the things that you've done, this doesn't make me uncomfortable.

[Not anymore, anyway. It had been awkward the first few times, in those first few years of their acquaintance. Back when Jaskier had been a gangly youth and never was quite well prepared enough for the autumn chill, and needed to share a bedroll with Geralt to avoid freezing in the night. Geralt had found it disconcerting that Jaskier was a clingy sleeper, rolling towards him in the night to leach as much heat from him as possible. Over the years, he had come to accept that these behaviors are just Jaskier being Jaskier, a product of his naturally outgoing and physically demonstrative nature.]

I didn't plan on telling you about your heartbeat. I assumed we weren't going to discuss it.

[Y'know, do what adults do and just ignore the awkward thing in the room and hope that it goes away.]

[rollstoseduce]

...so I've made you uncomfortable before.

[It should be obvious, yet hearing it hits him harder than he expects. It's not like he thinks things have always been smooth between them, it took them a while to get where they are now. But there's a difference between annoying or awkward and actually uncomfortable. Jaskier has always wanted to push Geralt out of his brooding and enjoy himself more, but not crossing the line into distressful.

There are so many details he knows that and always makes sure to pay attention to, how many did he break as a teen?

But those are thoughts for later - here is Geralt thinking they shouldn't talk about things again. That he shouldn't share them with Jaskier.]

That's not-- [He sighs as his hand leaves Geralt's chest to rub his forehead instead. This is going to be a long evening.] When I said this merits discussion after all, I meant the arragement - since we obviously weren't on the same page, my friend. You are correct, I wasn't going to bring up the matter of the heartbeat - but that's not because it bothers me or whatever the hell you're thinking, you big oaf. I said it already, did I not? I think it's sweet. It's nothing to be ashamed of, and I wish you did plan on sharing these things with me! I like them!

[He can't stop his voice from raising at the end as he throws his hands in the air, some frustration slipping back into his mood. Geralt's witchering qualities aren't monstrous in his eyes - quite the opposite, in fact. Jaskier thinks they're marvelous. If only Geralt wasn't ashamed of them.]

So. [There goes his hands to his hips like the worried housewife he is.] Do you want to keep the arregement? Yes or no, I won't take any other of your dodging answers!

[EXPRESS A WANT, GERALT, DAMMIT!]

[lovelybottom]

[If Jaskier had wanted to avoid causing Geralt distress, than he shouldn't have followed him on so many hunts. But the bard had cheerfully and stubbornly refused to listen to any kind of warning or demand that Geralt had to keep him safe, instead following on his heels straight towards the jaws of any number of monsters. And the witcher hadn't always been able to keep him safe, despite his efforts-- there's a long scar cutting over Jaskier's side and along his back that's testament to that.]

[It had been more than that, though. More than just the bard being in danger-- it was that Jaskier was the complete opposite of everything that Geralt was used to on the Path. He was uncomfortable with how much Jaskier cared.]

[The bard's hands perch themselves on his hips. The image is very much that of an upset housewife scolding her husband.]

It doesn't bother me. You hate being cold. Why change what works?

[rollstoseduce]

I'm not about to stop doing it when spring comes, Geralt.

[It's meant to be scolding, but it's only half of that and half amusement. Putting aside the fact this thickheaded witcher can't understand Jaskier does this because he likes it and not because he's cold (well, not only because he's cold - Geralt is a wonderful furnace after all), Geralt is saying -in his own way- that he does want this. That it works out for him.

That they should continue to bloody cuddle.

A smile finally appears on his face tonight and hey, maybe it's a good thing Geralt can't hear his heart at the moment, because it's close to bursting.]

Right. Good. That's- Great then. [He nods along with his words as he rubs his fingers together in his usual tick.] We shall keep the one bed.

[There's a pause as Jaskier comes down from his emotional high and takes in their surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. Right, they're in the middle of the streets of Goldenrod. Awkward. How did get here again? One look at Geralt is enough to remind him, and Jaskier dramatically gasps.]

Your wounds! We need to take care of your wounds! [He grabs Geralt's wrist again, but after such a heart-to-heart? Jaskier is kinder. Softer. It's less dragging and more a gentle pull to keep him walking by his side.] I still can't believe you did this. Well, you stubborn oaf, now you know coin isn't lacking. And hopefully you've at least started to believe me when I say you don't have to experience pain merely because you can. Are you planning to go back to that dreadful place?

[The tone he uses to make that question says YOU BETTER THINK TWICE BEFORE ANSWERING, MISTER!]

[lovelybottom]

[Jaskier rubs the tips of his fingers together as he agrees to keep their current sleeping arrangements. It's curious-- that's a gesture that he usually does when he's nervous. There shouldn't be anything for him to be nervous about right now, so why the tic? Geralt doesn't know how to ask about it without it being awkward, but he's spared from having to figure it out by Jaskier suddenly remembering that he is very minorly injured. The bard grabs his wrist and pulls him along again, and Geralt follows. His hand is warm against Geralt's skin.]

[He's back to name calling, though it's the gentler sort that he uses when Geralt is being exasperating, not when he's truly angry. He's been mollified for the moment, though the witcher is aware that his temper could easily flare again. He'd rather not have to deal with more histrionics, especially since Jaskier is adamant about playing nursemaid to his bumps and scrapes.]

I don't dislike having a place to spar. [He can't just go around asking people in the streets, after all. The fighting club is a useful place to go to find people who would both be inclined to fight him and also have some skill at it. There is, perhaps, a path of least resistance that they can find-- something that both appeases Jaskier's desire to not see him walk around with bruises on his face but still allows him to get his exercise.] Will it satisfy you if I no longer fight for coin?

[rollstoseduce]

[Geralt admits liking having a place to spar, and Jaskier has to bite his lower lip as a bit of guilt makes his stomach turn. This is his witcher, good ol' White Wolf, doing the closest thing to expressing a want of his own. That's not something to scoff at! And when he puts it that way... well, yeah, obviously a warrior would want to keep up a training routine, a way to keep their bodies fit and their reflexes sharp.

Is that what this "fight club" truly is though? Jaskier glances at Geralt, takes a good look at that awful black eye and worries his lip a little longer while thinking about the right way to approach the subject without coming off as "punishing" Geralt for his want.]

Coin isn't the actual issue, my friend. I just pointed it out because I thought you joined such club only for economic reasons. You don't enjoy hurting people after all! And your witchering, as harsh as it is on you, you enjoy because you like helping people. I've never found fault in charging for that, have I? In fact, I sing for you to get paid what you actually deserve.

[A pause. His free hand continues to rub its fingers until he can't take it anymore. Just like he did when he arrived, he reaches out and gently brushes the bruise with calloused fingertips.]

Is this what sparring actually looks like, however? The way Claude explained it to me... that bruises you're carrying... it all sounds rather barbaric. Wouldn't sparring with Dimitri or Felix in a more relaxed environment be as satisfying?

[And you know Jaskier is seriously worried when he brings up Felix as someone Geralt should spend time with.]

[lovelybottom]

The club is convenient. We are all there for the same purpose, and have agreed to it. Were I to spar with Felix or Dimitri somewhere else, it may be mistaken for an actual fight.

[And then someone could attempt to intervene, which would be awkward and potentially dangerous for the would-be Good Samaritan, or someone could call for the police. A gym of the more conventional sort might have the facilities for this kind of sparring, but it's a specialized thing that can't be expected in all of them. So going to an already established club, even if it's technically underground, was simpler.]

[The bard's fingers are gentle against his face again. He touches it as though it's a terrible injury, rather than just a bruise. There is something endearing about it-- as though Geralt didn't regularly get worse injuries when he was a boy in training, before he'd gone through any of the Trials.]

A few scrapes and bruises aren't unusual in sparring, either, Jaskier. [Not that Jaskier had ever really had to spar with his fists. He'd only ever had a nobleman's training, fencing with padding and blunted weapons and where the fight was stopped at first touch.] Usually Felix is the one training with me, and he doesn't often leave marks. He's improved.

[There is something almost like pride in his voice there, at the improvement. Though Jaskier undoubtedly has many things to say about Felix's personality, his stubbornness and determination make him an excellent student, and Geralt can't find fault with that.]

[rollstoseduce]

Mmh.

[Oh yes, he's stolen that from Geralt. How does it feel to have it used back at you? Weird of Jaskier not to have an opinion on a particular subject, that's for sure - especially after all the screaming he did just a couple of moments ago that showed he did have tons of thoughts about this. The truth is, he's feeling rather torn at the moment: Geralt's reasoning is hard to argue with, it makes perfect sense. Most importantly, though, there's the fact Geralt seems to like the place. He can't even get annoyed at Felix when he hears that pride in the witcher's voice! It's something so rare, so precious.

Jaskier can't bring himself to discourage this - but he worries about the possible consequences that would come with encouraging it, too.

He sighs.] A black eye is more than a scrape... [It's reluctantly mumbled, though, because he knows he's losing this battle.] I don't have the heart to take this away from you, but Geralt, old friend, you must promise me you will be careful. [The hand on the witcher's wrist squeezes.] That you won't do anything stupid like you usually do to protect people. That you'll keep on doing it because you enjoy it and you'll stop if it becomes a burden. That you won't do it only for the coin.