Indeed, Jaskier has definitely become desensitized to Geralt's awful table manners. Does that mean he'll stop trying to make them at least a little less awful? No, at least not when they're in public - today he'll allow this exception, even if he's a bit worried about what Cirilla may learn from it. In Kaer Morhen witchers gonna witcher, and right now, Jaskier is more concerned about Geralt getting to eat properly again.
Besides, that fight over the food? Amusing as hell as well. It's more of the casual interactions between brothers that he's been dying to see. If Geralt had to go through all that shit as a kid, Jaskier is glad he at least had these fine men with him. Well, as fine as Lambert can be.
...actually, Lambert may be finer than Jaskier thinks. Geralt chose his name? This is incredibly interesting, and Jaskier wants to chat with his boyfriend later about the process behind it, having gone through the same. But ohohoho, it doesn't stop there, there's a story. An embarrassing one, it seems. This is gold!
Gold that Geralt doesn't want him to know about, apparently. Both Jaskier and Ciri jump on their seats when Geralt is suddenly vaulting, not used to this behavior (at least when it comes from Geralt) unless there's danger near them. They stand up to take a better look and after sharing a glance that silently says wow, this is really happening, they decide to enjoy the show - laugh at them even. Geralt is roughhousing! With his brother! Jaskier never thought he'd see the day. It shows how much comfortable he's around them, how he can let go of his control because the other witchers can take it. He can only hope Geralt lets go with him at least a third of the control he lets go with his family some day.
Now this is fun and all (Lambert deserves a headlock, let's be honest here), but Jaskier needs the rest of the story! And he's about to ask for it, to ask Geralt to spare his brother... when Vesemir jumps in again. Twice in a row, Jaskier can barely believe it. He doesn't have time to analyze this move, though, because-- well. Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde. Unbelievable. Laughing so hard it echoes in the room, Jaskier falls back on his seat as he grabs his stomach and bends over a little bit, absolutely losing it. And Lambert commenting on his jizz, hitting the point closer than he realizes? Yeah, not helping. Oh, what a wonderful morning to have after the best fuck ever.
"If you excuse me, gentlemen and lady," he finally says when he manages to control his laughter, although some chuckles still escape him. He even has to wipe tears off his eyes! "I'm in urgent need a bath, and I think the White Wolf is a little worried I repay this wonderful story in kind." He leaves the table but only takes a couple of steps toward Geralt before turning around again with a hand around his mouth and a wink for his audience. "Can't have you knowing he told a golden dragon than his kind didn't exist, can we?"
The golden glare that is thrown his way is expected, and that's why he runs the hell out of there, grinning widely at the sounds of more laughter coming from the mess hall. Sorry, Geralt, but business is business. He needs to keep his part of the deal, win the in-laws over and show them their efforts will be well rewarded. That way Jaskier can get more childhood stories later!
Well, he runs half of the way anyway, as much as he can remember, then waits for Geralt to guide him back to his room. This time he does pick a set of his nicer silks to change into, plus his grooming kit... and the silver wolf brooch, of course. He waves it at Geralt with a grin and a wink before throwing it on top of the pile and following his lover to a new section of the keep. They travel through well-kept hallways, and Jaskier realizes the ones Eskel guided him through to get to the kitchen are in good condition as well - the important daily paths are taken as a priority, very smart of them! That also means the path to the baths is a priority, which amuses him greatly. It seems not only Geralt has an affinity for a good soak.
What kind of bathtubs does a keep hold for such a bunch of burly men anyway? Jaskier isn't sure what to expect... but this is definitely not it. Geralt starts undressing and for the first time ever, Jaskier doesn't glance or ogle. No, his -now very wide- blue eyes are too busy staring at the beautiful sight ahead of them.
"Hot springs!" he exclaims after picking his jaw from the floor, his scent sweet with excitement. However, there's also a tiny hint of... frustration? "You bloody stingy oaf, how dare you keep this secret from me for so long! And you still thought I wouldn't want to come to Kaer Morhen? Unbelievable!"
His huffing is barely serious, it's incredibly obvious for anyone (enhanced senses or not) to see how delighted he is by this turn of events. He undresses at record speed, chuckling at Geralt's comment and telling him he can be the one to bring his balls back if it comes down to that before following him into the water. The fact the witcher took his kit with him doesn't go unnoticed - Jaskier won't comment on it because he knows Geralt will say he's just being practical and bringing it over so the bard doesn't forget about it and whine about it later, but he knows the truth: his boyfriend loves being pampered. Which is great, because Jaskier loves pampering him.
Geralt's sigh is echoed by Jaskier's. The warm water feels incredible, it's like being born again. All the stress his body has been through since Geralt found him (from true pain of torture to the light soreness of last night's exercise) gradually goes away until all his muscles are left feeling like wet clay, free and unmolded. Not only the temperature is perfect, there's also the size of the pool: big enough to fit various adult men... which means Jaskier can finally cross another thing off the things I've been wanting to do with Geralt since Posada list.
He doesn't need to ask, he just goes for it - it's not like he's ever been afraid of being bold around Geralt, and their recent relationship upgrade has only served to make him even bolder. Calloused hands separate the witcher's knees and Jaskier crawls between them to sit against Geralt's body, lowering his own a little bit so his head is resting against those marvelous boobs.
"I'm missing something." Geralt's arms are grabbed then and put around the bard's waist. The fact he's allowed to do this at all without complaint makes him smell even sweeter. "Mmmh, perfect."
Believe it or not, silence follows, because even Jaskier can appreciate a moment of relaxation and basking in his lover's presence. But at the end of the day, Jaskier is Jaskier, and as he's told that day in Posada twenty years ago? He doesn't go in for that.
"Soooo~," he sing-songs as he rearranges his position to make his head fall on Geralt's shoulder this time, so he can both look at the witcher and playfully kiss his neck as an apology for the teasing he's about to do. "Geralt actually-not-of-Rivia, mmh? Could've tricked me with that accent of yours, love."
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Besides, that fight over the food? Amusing as hell as well. It's more of the casual interactions between brothers that he's been dying to see. If Geralt had to go through all that shit as a kid, Jaskier is glad he at least had these fine men with him. Well, as fine as Lambert can be.
...actually, Lambert may be finer than Jaskier thinks. Geralt chose his name? This is incredibly interesting, and Jaskier wants to chat with his boyfriend later about the process behind it, having gone through the same. But ohohoho, it doesn't stop there, there's a story. An embarrassing one, it seems. This is gold!
Gold that Geralt doesn't want him to know about, apparently. Both Jaskier and Ciri jump on their seats when Geralt is suddenly vaulting, not used to this behavior (at least when it comes from Geralt) unless there's danger near them. They stand up to take a better look and after sharing a glance that silently says wow, this is really happening, they decide to enjoy the show - laugh at them even. Geralt is roughhousing! With his brother! Jaskier never thought he'd see the day. It shows how much comfortable he's around them, how he can let go of his control because the other witchers can take it. He can only hope Geralt lets go with him at least a third of the control he lets go with his family some day.
Now this is fun and all (Lambert deserves a headlock, let's be honest here), but Jaskier needs the rest of the story! And he's about to ask for it, to ask Geralt to spare his brother... when Vesemir jumps in again. Twice in a row, Jaskier can barely believe it. He doesn't have time to analyze this move, though, because-- well. Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde. Unbelievable. Laughing so hard it echoes in the room, Jaskier falls back on his seat as he grabs his stomach and bends over a little bit, absolutely losing it. And Lambert commenting on his jizz, hitting the point closer than he realizes? Yeah, not helping. Oh, what a wonderful morning to have after the best fuck ever.
"If you excuse me, gentlemen and lady," he finally says when he manages to control his laughter, although some chuckles still escape him. He even has to wipe tears off his eyes! "I'm in urgent need a bath, and I think the White Wolf is a little worried I repay this wonderful story in kind." He leaves the table but only takes a couple of steps toward Geralt before turning around again with a hand around his mouth and a wink for his audience. "Can't have you knowing he told a golden dragon than his kind didn't exist, can we?"
The golden glare that is thrown his way is expected, and that's why he runs the hell out of there, grinning widely at the sounds of more laughter coming from the mess hall. Sorry, Geralt, but business is business. He needs to keep his part of the deal, win the in-laws over and show them their efforts will be well rewarded. That way Jaskier can get more childhood stories later!
Well, he runs half of the way anyway, as much as he can remember, then waits for Geralt to guide him back to his room. This time he does pick a set of his nicer silks to change into, plus his grooming kit... and the silver wolf brooch, of course. He waves it at Geralt with a grin and a wink before throwing it on top of the pile and following his lover to a new section of the keep. They travel through well-kept hallways, and Jaskier realizes the ones Eskel guided him through to get to the kitchen are in good condition as well - the important daily paths are taken as a priority, very smart of them! That also means the path to the baths is a priority, which amuses him greatly. It seems not only Geralt has an affinity for a good soak.
What kind of bathtubs does a keep hold for such a bunch of burly men anyway? Jaskier isn't sure what to expect... but this is definitely not it. Geralt starts undressing and for the first time ever, Jaskier doesn't glance or ogle. No, his -now very wide- blue eyes are too busy staring at the beautiful sight ahead of them.
"Hot springs!" he exclaims after picking his jaw from the floor, his scent sweet with excitement. However, there's also a tiny hint of... frustration? "You bloody stingy oaf, how dare you keep this secret from me for so long! And you still thought I wouldn't want to come to Kaer Morhen? Unbelievable!"
His huffing is barely serious, it's incredibly obvious for anyone (enhanced senses or not) to see how delighted he is by this turn of events. He undresses at record speed, chuckling at Geralt's comment and telling him he can be the one to bring his balls back if it comes down to that before following him into the water. The fact the witcher took his kit with him doesn't go unnoticed - Jaskier won't comment on it because he knows Geralt will say he's just being practical and bringing it over so the bard doesn't forget about it and whine about it later, but he knows the truth: his boyfriend loves being pampered. Which is great, because Jaskier loves pampering him.
Geralt's sigh is echoed by Jaskier's. The warm water feels incredible, it's like being born again. All the stress his body has been through since Geralt found him (from true pain of torture to the light soreness of last night's exercise) gradually goes away until all his muscles are left feeling like wet clay, free and unmolded. Not only the temperature is perfect, there's also the size of the pool: big enough to fit various adult men... which means Jaskier can finally cross another thing off the things I've been wanting to do with Geralt since Posada list.
He doesn't need to ask, he just goes for it - it's not like he's ever been afraid of being bold around Geralt, and their recent relationship upgrade has only served to make him even bolder. Calloused hands separate the witcher's knees and Jaskier crawls between them to sit against Geralt's body, lowering his own a little bit so his head is resting against those marvelous boobs.
"I'm missing something." Geralt's arms are grabbed then and put around the bard's waist. The fact he's allowed to do this at all without complaint makes him smell even sweeter. "Mmmh, perfect."
Believe it or not, silence follows, because even Jaskier can appreciate a moment of relaxation and basking in his lover's presence. But at the end of the day, Jaskier is Jaskier, and as he's told that day in Posada twenty years ago? He doesn't go in for that.
"Soooo~," he sing-songs as he rearranges his position to make his head fall on Geralt's shoulder this time, so he can both look at the witcher and playfully kiss his neck as an apology for the teasing he's about to do. "Geralt actually-not-of-Rivia, mmh? Could've tricked me with that accent of yours, love."