Geralt of Rivia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lovelybottom) wrote2020-12-22 09:17 pm
lovelybottom) wrote2020-12-22 09:17 pm
IC Inbox - VR
Hm.
[Silence. In the background, a faint, admonishing Geralt! can be heard.]
Call the bard.
[ VOICE | VIDEO | TEXT | RANDOM ACTION ]
Hm.
[Silence. In the background, a faint, admonishing Geralt! can be heard.]
Call the bard.
[ VOICE | VIDEO | TEXT | RANDOM ACTION ]
Timewarping back to June
So when he returns to their lovely suite in the evening, he's tired but incredibly pleased with himself. Geralt quickly tells him to take a bath, and Jaskier accepts the idea with a chuckle. He does like baths, though perhaps not as much as his boyfriend, so it's cute when that's the witcher's solution to things.
To be fair, today he is absolutely right. So Jaskier asks him to order room service while he gets the bath ready. He gets the water running then grabs his bag of grooming essentials and takes out... things that he's pretty sure weren't there last time he checked. He turns them around in his hands, reads the labels, sniffs the scents... Yeah, he definitely didn't buy these.
"Geralt?" he asks as he walks back to the room with a bathbomb in one hand and a massage oil bottle in the other. "Care to tell me where all these things come from?"
He has a hunch, one that says this isn't Kiri's doing... But better not jump to conclusions. That's it, isn't it? Trying out this communication thingy.
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The reason for all this, of course, is because it's Jaskier's birthday. Geralt is not particularly well-versed in the whole birthday thing, being that neither he nor the other witchers celebrated or even probably knew the actual date of theirs, but he understands that Jaskier does. In the past, the fanfare around the bard's birthday was usually bard-driven-- if they were together at the time and Geralt wasn't out on contract or Jaskier wasn't at a summer competition, he would decide what he wanted to do and Geralt would just... tag along, at Jaskier's insistence. Now that they're in some kind of... relationship, there's a certain onus on Geralt to do something for this day, at least according to Obstagoogle. And there is one thing that Geralt knows well about Jaskier-- he is a hedonist. He loves good food and good drink and luxurious things, spends his hard-earned money on silk clothes and trips to the bathhouse in Novigrad so that girls can put special mud on his face that he claims makes his skin smooth. Geralt wouldn't even pretend that he could buy an outfit for Jaskier that the bard would approve of, nor does he know the closely-guarded secrets of Novigrad bathhouses (nor is he entirely convinced that those trips aren't just an excuse for Jaskier to drink and swan about scandalously undressed in mixed company), but he can provide some little luxuries. A few new bath things in scents that he remembers that he liked, room service for the seafood dishes and wine that he prefers.
Jaskier finds those extra little things that he'd left in his kit, of course, and comes out to question him about them as Geralt sets the phone back in the receiver, their room service order placed.
"Don't use it if you don't like it," he says, which answers exactly none of Jaskier's actual question but probably still allows him to read between the lines. "Food's ordered. You'll want to be done before it gets here."
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Luckily for the witcher, Jaskier can indeed read between the lines, and he is incredibly touched by the gesture.
"You have the weirdest say of wishing your beloved happy birthday, darling." His fond tone and soft expression say he's teasing. He comes closer and pecks Geralt's lips. "Thank you, my dear. I love it. It's very thoughtful of you."
No embellishment there, he truly means it. Geralt chose something according to Jaskier's tastes, went out there to buy something he barely understands. The mental image of Geralt at the beauty product aisle is amusing as hell, but it also makes him feel all fuzzy inside. He probably would've rather fought a bruxa rather than having to shop for beauty products, but he still did it. For Jaskier.
Words matter to the bard - a lot. But at moments like this? He perfectly understands why people say actions speak louder.
"As for the food~" He winks. "I don't see why we can't enjoy it in the bath. Yes, we. Join me, will you?"
After pecking Geralt's mouth again, he returns to the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. The bathbomb is dropped in the tub, filling the room with a light mint scent while Jaskier proceeds to undress himself... extremely slowly. He isn't making a true sexy show out of it (although that's an idea for the future!), but he's definitely taking his time and letting his fingers caress his skin as he takes off each layer of clothing and lets it fall to the floor.
There's humming too, of course, but even that has to stop when Jaskier finally makes his way into the tub and groans rather loudly when the deliciously warm water covers his tired body. It's not like the reaction is a lie per se... but he's exaggerating for sure.
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There's still something that surprises him, every time Jaskier leans in and kisses him so easily and casually. With Yen, kisses had been a lead-in to sex; with the whores, Geralt couldn't even pay them for such a thing. Though, to be fair to them, that may have been a service that no one could purchase, witcher or not. But Jaskier-- he kisses Geralt as thanks, or in greeting, or sometimes for no discernable reason at all. Just for the sake of kissing him.
Join me, he says, and while that is technically something that Geralt had been planning to do anyway, the lure of bared skin is more than he would have been able to resist. Jaskier leaves the door open and Geralt leans against the doorframe, watching him slowly remove layer after layer of clothing. If the bard had wanted to make a production out of it, he could have-- this is just a little tease. More than a little tease, when he gets into the water and the noise that he makes is a bit too enticing to not be at least a little deliberate.
Geralt walks in and, while he removes his shirt-- mostly for practical purposes rather than to entice, as he is aware that there's little that's appealing about his mess of scars-- and sits on the edge of the tub at Jaskier's back. One of the things that he had bought was a vial of lavender massage oil, and he takes that now to pour a little of it onto his hands and smooth it into Jaskier's shoulders. The bard had, in the past, rubbed salve and ointments into his aches and injuries; it is perhaps well past time for him to return the favor.
The oil is thin and slippery, allowing his thumbs to glide effortlessly over his skin, starting at his neck and working his way down across his shoulders, his arms, down to his wrist and hand and long, delicate fingers. He presses his thumbs into the meat of the bard's palm, gently kneading out the tension from all those hours that he spends holding and playing his instruments, rubbing the oil into the callouses.
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He's still the most handsome man Jaskier has ever met and, horny as usual, he can't wait to put his hands on him again. But strangely enough, Mr Bath Addict doesn't take the rest of his clothes off. In fact, he's sitting behind him, but not in the actual water. The spot that usually belongs to Jaskier. Huh.
"Geralt? What's the pro--" His sentence and his attempt to turn around are interrupted by the oily hands on his neck, massaging away the tiredness. Jaskier can't stop the little groan that leaves his lips, more sincere this time. "Ooooh fuck. That feels heavenly, my dear, please don't stop."
So it's not just the beauty products - the other part of his gift is Geralt returning the favor and doing the pampering for once. The smile currently attempting to split his face in two says how much Jaskier appreciates it - he would be vibrating with excitement about the whole deal if it wasn't for the fact Geralt's massage is turning him into jelly, incapable of doing more than sighing and resting his head against that thick bicep next to his ear.
...and ok, maybe he can drop a little kiss there too. Not many muscles are required to move to do that. He loves this man so fucking much, and as it happened back when the witcher powers came back, Jaskier can't stop thinking if this isn't love, then what is it?. Because he's willing to be big money certain crazy witch never got a freaking massage.
When Geralt reaches his hands (probably the part of his body Jaskier uses the most after his mouth - not Geralt, not his cock!) his whole body shudders and finishes slumping against the back of the tub and any amount of witcher skin he can reach.
"Fuck, Geralt. Is there anything your mighty hands can't do? I could get used to this..." And then, Jaskier being Jaskier, needs to express how much he's feeling through poetry. "I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees, but to be quite upfront and completely truthful, you make my body forget it has knees at all."
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The bard is fully limp by the time he's gotten to his hands, his weight borne both by the tub and Geralt's chest. He lingers there for a while, just for the simple sake of it, while Jaskier lets his mouth wax poetic.
Is there anything your mighty hands can't do, he asks, and Geralt makes a low, half-amused little hum.
"Shit at whittling," he says, and, now that the oil has been fully absorbed into Jaskier's skin, lets go of his hands.
He reaches for the bard's preferred shampoo-- why he has so many of them, Geralt will never understand. Soap is soap, after all, and it'll clean bodies, hair, clothes, whatever you put it on. But Jaskier is particular and Geralt doesn't want to argue about it, so fancy hair soap it is.
"Dunk your head," he says, and squeezes some of the fragrant stuff into his palm.
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This conclusion is supported by the joke that comes next, Geralt's good old dry humor that he adores so much - when it isn't used being against him anyway. Jaskier laughs, loud and brightly, because it's funny, but also because he simply feels relaxed and content.
This is, without a doubt, the best birthday he's ever had.
He has a comeback for that little quip, but then Geralt asks him to dunk and Jaskier only gasps in both surprise and excitement before doing as asked. So it isn't only a massage, it's the full spa treatment - Geralt truly is spoiling him. Which is funny as hell, considering how much the witcher likes to make fun of him for being a spoiled brat.
When he comes back up, he doesn't hesitate to throw his head back to look at Geralt with adoration in his eyes and a grin splitting his face. If he had a tail, he'd be wagging it right now.
"Do you-- ah." He interrupts himself when Geralt's fingers are buried in his hair, because that feels so fucking good. The witcher has always been meticulous about his goals, and this seems to be no exception. Being at the center of Geralt's intense attention is like being looked at by the fucking sun, and Jaskier will happily burn with it.
After making some more noises to show how much he's enjoying this, he tries again. "Do you understand now why I enjoy pampering you so much?"
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But that's a rant for another day. Right now, Jaskier is safe and happy, gazing up at him with an adoration that he rarely sees on anyone else. He almost wishes that he still had his proper sense of smell, just so that he'd be able to breathe in the honey-sweet chamomile scent of him, bright with his happiness. Instead, he must content himself with Jaskier's wide grin and the way he tilts his head into the motions of Geralt's hands, like how cats will sometimes demand to be pet. The little noises that he makes when Geralt rubs at his scalp, or when he runs his nails lightly through his hair.
"Hm," he says and presses his thumbs into the base of Jaskier's skull, right at the little divots near where the neck connects, and rubs there. "Maybe I just like all the noises you make."
Jaskier's always been more vocal than Geralt. Maybe he just likes listening to the bard moan and sigh about everything that he does. Maybe he thinks that the little sounds he makes when he's pleased are prettier than all his ballads and poems put together.
Once he's thoroughly soaped, Geralt tips the bard's head back and uses a shallow bowl to pour water over his hair, rinsing it with water that now smells faintly of mint from his bathbomb. It complements the lavender of his soaps and the massage oil nicely, which is half the reason why Geralt bought them-- if he's going to sit here in a perfumed sauna, he might as well sit in one that won't give him a headache.
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It's also kind of ironic considering all those times he asked for blessed silence through the years - oh, how far they've come. Part of Jaskier wants to tease him for it, but Geralt is making an effort here and he knows that reminding him of the mean words in their past may not always end well. It's not like Jaskier will ever let him forget, teasing him for his twenty-two years of tsundere will always be a thing... just not today. Gotta make sure Geralt can receive the joke well instead of feeling like shit for it, and can't risk this perfect moment.
So instead, he just chuckles and gives Geralt another face-splitting grin. "I'll make all kinds of noises for you, my dear. It's not a hardship - you're so good at getting them out of me after all~"
And most importantly, being allowed to get noisy and getting to be heard is great for his ego. Obviously.
Rinsing comes next, and Jaskier keeps his promise, humming in delight at the feel of the warm water, the wonderful mix of lavender and mint, and Geralt's fingers kindly getting rid of any leftover shampoo on his hair. Add to that a frustrated groan when there's a knock at their door - ok, sure, it's the food, and he is hungry, but the loss of the witcher's hands on him is sinful, alright. This is his birthday and he's being spoiled, so he's gonna be bratty if he wants, thank you very much.
Geralt puts own the tray on a stool next to the tub, flexing all those amazing muscles when he bends over, and Jaskier gets an idea. After wine is poured, he grabs his glass... and Geralt's as well before moving back to rest against the side of the tub that touches the wall.
"Wine is only available to any naked beauties in the bathtub." He winks. "Join me already, love. I am soooo tired, I may need help getting that food in my mouth."
Yes, he's asking to be fed. This is what happens when he is allowed to play pillow princess, he's going to take advantage of it to get all that attention he craves.
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"So it's all for you?"
After all, Geralt will never be a beauty, naked or not. And, anyway, he has the whole rest of the bottle right with him, he doesn't actually need a glass. But, he reminds himself, this is Jaskier's present, so he'll play along with his silliness and strip out of the rest of his clothes to join him. When he steps into the tub, the water is warm-- perhaps a little cooler than he'd prefer it, but Jaskier had always complained about how much he liked to boil himself in his baths. He settles himself down within reach of their dinner, since Jaskier seems intent on starving if the food isn't delivered to his mouth by Geralt's hand.
"Come here, then, if you're intent on being lazy." He drapes an arm along the edge of the tub-- an open invitation for Jaskier to get as close as he likes.
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The self-deprecation hasn't gone unnoticed, however. So when Geralt undresses, Jaskier makes sure to make his appreciating noises extra loud just for him. It's not hard to do, because as he's already established, Geralt is simply that good at getting Jaskier to make noise. There's also the added fact that even if it's been a little over a month, he can't still get over the fact he's allowed to watch and ogle now instead of having to sneak glances while bathing. He licks his lips once more, eager to put his hands all over that gorgeous body...
And he gets his chance when Geralt drapes an arm along the edge of the tub. He's also called lazy, but Jaskier just laughs, understanding this time it's teasing and not his boyfriend being an arse - Geralt has learned where to draw the line, and Jaskier couldn't be prouder of him for it. His first instinct is to sit between the witcher's legs, but that wouldn't work well for the feeding. So he presses himself against his lover's side, making as much skin as possible touch while dropping a kiss on Geralt's cheek.
"For the other beauty in the tub," he tells him as he hands him back his glass of wine. No self-hate in this tub allowed, thank you very much!
Geralt starts feeding him then, and Jaskier being Jaskier, he doesn't allow things to stay simple. There are the cute little noises, yes, but also the playfully licking of Geralt's fingers as blue eyes look directly into gold, or the grabbing of food with his teeth to share it with his lover through a kiss. At some point, he ends up moving to sit on Geralt's lap, which gives him better access to the tray with food. He ends up feeding Geralt as well.
"The flavor of the White Wolf makes everything taste ten times better," he teases after breaking a kiss full of wine. "Now I cannot help but wonder, would you let me eat off your chest one day?"
When they're less wet and with food that has less shell around it.