There's something almost calming about watching Jaskier when he orgasms. It's always so loud, and intense, and powerful; it leaves no room for anything else.
It's as if his body is absorbing every bit of chaos that surrounds him until he can't take it anymore, and then he simply... releases.
Geralt's had the pleasure of experiencing it many, many times now, and it always has the same impact on him, if not stronger each time. It's addictive, makes him wish that he could spend all of his days, every day, his only purpose in life being to bring Jaskier to orgasm.
And it's possibly making the person in the room next to them homicidal because this would be the seventh time tonight that they’ve banged on the wall, and shouted insults at Geralt and Jaskier for being too loud.
Jaskier’s chuckle turns into a gasp when Geralt slips out of him— the slide slippery, the sound lewd.
Geralt grunts as his body hits the mattress, finding that he's aching in the way he always does after several rounds with the bard. Very few people can tire him out, but it is no surprise that Jaskier manages to be on that short list.
"Outstanding as always, dear witcher."
"Hm."
"And verbal as ever," Jaskier teases as he sits up. "Your ability to be so nonchalant and quiet after sex with me is becoming quite offensive, I must say."
"This is how I normally am."
"You had a lot to say an hour ago when I had my lips wrapped around your cock."
Geralt shrugs, "I was inspired."
Jaskier rolls his eyes, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he sits up and begins searching for his pants.
Geralt admires his back (and his backside) as he moves, eyes trailing over the—
Wait…
Wait.
Geralt doesn't panic, okay? Living the life he lives, he doesn't have that privilege, but right now, laying in this bed as he watches Jaskier get ready to leave— fuck, he might be panicking.
Because Jaskier never leaves after sex, not since after the first few times, at least. And yes, he isn't necessarily obligated to stay, but he always does, and so does Geralt, and now he isn't.
Why?
Why is Jaskier not talking him into cuddling right now?
Why is Jaskier not attempting to get him into the now-cold bath in the corner of the room?
Why is Jaskier not going on one of his very detailed post-sex rants that Geralt pretends to despise, even though they both know he gets invested each time?
Why is Jaskier not falling asleep right now? Hogging up all the bed space and stealing the blanket while using Geralt's chest as a pillow?
Geralt remains as still as possible, barely twitching out of place as Jaskier pulls on his doublet. He may not feel normal about this, but he can sure as shit act normal, even if it isn't normal.
"Alright, darling, I'm going to go fetch us some water. Be back before you can miss my presence too much," the bard announces, throwing a wink over his shoulder before practically skipping out the door.
The words settle him, but only for a few moments before he's ready to panic over something completely different because why did he care so much about Jaskier possibly leaving?
Sure, Geralt has become almost as fond of the after-sex things as he is of the sex-sex things, but he doesn't need them. He won't break down into tears without them.
Except...
That's sort of exactly what he was ready to do just now.
Okay, maybe Geralt wouldn’t have cried, but he definitely would’ve bothered… upset, even.
And he knows this because even with the knowledge that Jaskier is coming back, even knowing that Jaskier only left so he could make sure they both stay hydrated, Geralt is, in this very moment, bothered.
Which isn’t good. At all.
Because the last time he got bothered by someone leaving, it was Yennefer. And he was only bothered because.
Well.
But that wouldn’t make sense, would it? Because Jaskier leaves all the time. He leaves Jaskier all the time. They part for months on end, and Geralt lives.
So what if Geralt has begun to notice that it gets a little harder to willingly go every time they part ways?
So what if his mood during the months where Jaskier isn’t around is shittier than usual?
So what if his mood when Jaskier is around is better than usual?
That doesn’t mean anything. Sex puts most men in better moods, that doesn’t mean he’s in love with the bard.
Not that feelings would mean love. Because a little crush doesn’t equate to love.
Not that Geralt has a little crush, or any crush of any sort. Because he doesn’t. Because he can’t.
Because what they have now, friendship and lust and comfort, is the best thing that has happened to him in a while, and he will not ruin that over catching feelings, of all things.
He doesn’t have feelings for Jaskier, so he can’t ruin anything.
“I don’t have feelings for Jaskier,” he says aloud, into the empty room, but the words feel heavy on his tongue.
I can’t have feelings for Jaskier.
“I don’t have feelings for Jaskier,” Geralt says again, but this time, it comes out as a growl.
Please, don’t let me have feelings for Jaskier.
“I do not have feelings for Jask—”
The door opens, and Jaskier walks in with a wide smile, and that spark of electricity that follows the bard wherever he goes bursts in behind him.
Jaskier takes easy steps towards the bed, and it’s like he’s moving in slow motion.
Geralt desperately wants to run. He doesn’t.
He remains still as Jaskier sets down the pitcher of water, and the cup in hand, and fills it up to the brim before turning to Geralt with a disarming gaze.
The rim of the glass in Jaskier’s hand is pressed to Geralt’s lips, and the witcher takes in the sight before him.
Those wide blue eyes, and that disheveled hair, and those pouty lips— he realizes that he could probably draw every single feature of this man’s face perfectly without even looking, and he’s never drawn a day in his life.
I can’t.
“Well?” Jaskier says, “drink up.”
Geralt parts his lips, and Jaskier’s eyes drop, and Geralt’s heart thuds so loud, it seems to echo throughout his entire body, and Jaskier smiles wide, as if he heard it.
I do.
Fuck.
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dressed elegantly. this will never leave my head. the implications of this.
because geralt and his company, they saddled up, left beauclair, travelled through mountains and frozen blizzards and downpours and muddy sod for two to three months. you need to pack outfits for that. you need to plan your gear.
what was the rest of the company wearing? what did they pack for this long journey? they packed practically, dressed warmly for the frozen journey of january, february, march. geralt wore a wolf-skin cloak, a scarf, a shawl… milva wore a fox-fur kalpak, angoulême wore a hat with a pompom and a sheepskin coat. cahir’s dress isn’t mentioned, but he must have been dressed similarly, because he rubs his hands briskly together and were he not dressed warmly he otherwise would have frozen to death. regis’ dress isn’t mentioned, but it is mentioned that he’s immune to the freezing temperature. so, i mean, it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing in this scene, maybe a regular outfit.
but at stygga. dressed elegantly.
so you’re telling me that. regis packed his things in preparation for their flight from beauclair, went to his quarters after geralt explained to him the satisfactory reasons they were leaving, and went,
“alright, time to prepare for this long and dangerous journey that will conclude in a great clash between our forces and the kidnappers of ciri. the end of our quest. the final journey. and a dangerous road awaits us, with snow still blocking the passes, frost and white all around. a grand fight and conflict awaits us. what gear should i prepare, what should i wear for this expedition, what kinds of clothing should i pack.”
and then he went:
“you know, i want to look fucking good ✨ when we get there 💅🏻🦇”
imagine the final preparation before they approach castle stygga. geralt sees the castle hewn out of the cliffside, effortlessly noticing every detail from far away, seeing like an eagle with his mutated eyes. and like an eagle, compelled to swoop down and snatch vilgefortz like a fish. ordering the company forward, declaring they’ve made it. this is the moment they have all been waiting for. everyone has been waiting such a long time for this. they prepared everything.
they wait until midnight. angoulême eagerly unsheathes and whets her long sabre, swings her axe around with predatory glee. cahir fits the plate armor and winged officer’s helmet he scavenged from a small nilfgaardian dispatch that they ran into extorting caravista for tax. milva tightens the same worn, polished leather bracer that she’s always had on her left arm, and mutters as she fixes her spiralled arrow fletchings over boiling water. geralt, with nothing left to do, paces and breathes, wondering where the hell regis has gone.
just then, regis walks out from behind an outcropping of rock, eyes glinting with cat-like light, in his “elegant” outfit, absolutely slaying that shit, and all his friends look at him absently like. “what the hell are you wearing. where the fuck did you get that. you packed that? you planned your outfit for the final battle, you planned this outfit in advance three months ago?” to which he counters, “well, three months isn’t very long at all,” and they’re like, “this is the preparation you made? we thought you left to do some secret vampire rituals or whatever. or to reckon with yourself for the severe violence we’re about to inflict.” and he’s like “no, i just wanted to make sure i was dressed nicely for the occasion”
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In a matter of minutes, the sky turned from blue to grey to nearly black. They'd felt the increasing wind before which had made them hurry their steps, but they were not able to escape the thunderstorm that was rolling on.
“Jaskier, we need to hurry if we don't want to get drenched,” Geralt said through gritted teeth.
“You know, we would get to the next inn in time if we were actually riding on a horse.” Jaskier looked at Roach, who seemed to give him a glare, but that was probably just his imagination.
“You know we can't.” As much as Jaskier wanted to protest, he knew that Geralt was right, because Roach was already carrying enough weight at the moment, and they needed all of that. It wasn't like they could just abandon everything just to get to their destination. It wasn't even freezing cold, Jaskier didn't mind the rain at all – he loved the summer rain actually – but he knew how much force a storm could have, how much destruction lightning could leave behind.
Before they know it, the rain set in. Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the wrist and pulled him towards the trees to seek shelter from the downpour. In the distance, they could hear the thunder, but they couldn't see the lightning yet, because of their surroundings.
“So, you want us to stay here until this is over?” Jaskier quirked an eyebrow at Geralt,
“Don't tell me you want to go out into that downpour and get completely drenched? Are you mad?”
“You do know who you are talking to, right?”
“Yeah, you are mad...” Geralt shook his had half in amusement, half in exasperation. Before he could do anything, Jaskier stepped out of the shelter the trees were providing and into the rain. It smelled sweet and earthy, like the typical summer rain, which made Jaskier smile, even ad the rain made it's way through his clothes and onto his skin. “We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” Geralt watched Jaskier stand there, already completely drenched.
“Yes,” Jaskier yelled over the sound of rain, a brilliant smile on his lips, as he tilted his face up to greet the rain. It felt amazing, it always did. He couldn't really say what it was about the summer rain, but it almost felt like it was cleansing his soul. For a moment, he simply stood there, enjoying the rain on his skin that cooled his body down after they'd been walking in the sun for hours. Slowly, he turned his face towards Geralt again as the rain was lessening. “You do know that lightning striked trees rather than flat land, right? So I'm actually safer here than you are over there.”
“I'm good here.”
“What's that, my dear Witcher?” Jaskier smirked, turning completely towards him, cocking his head to the left. “Are you afraid of a little rain?”
“That's not a little rain.” Geralt looks Jaskier up and down, his bright blue doublet now a couple of shades darker due to the water.
“So you are afraid,” Jaskier kept on teasing, but he looked up at the sky again, closing his eyes. It was already getting a bit lighter again, but the rain remained. There was still thunder and lightning all around, but still a bit away from them.
“Say that again.” Jaskier heard Geralt's voice close to his ear now, before he felt the Witcher's hands on his upper arms. The bard gasped when he opened his eyes and was suddenly nose to nose with Geralt. Still, he couldn't help but smirk.
“Scared, Witcher?”
“You wish!”
His words make Jaskier's smirk turn into a smile. His hands reach up to cup Geralt's face before he presses his lips to the Witcher's. He'd kissed a lot of people, but he'd never kissed anyone in the pouring rain before. Something that was so romanticised that he had to try it himself, and... it did live up to what he'd expected. More than that actually. Geralt's grip on his arms loosened, and instead, he dropped his hands to Jaskier's waist, pulling him closer. Seems like Jaskier wasn't the only one enjoying this kiss in the rain. They only parted when they both needed to come up for air. Staring into each others eyes, they both started chuckling.
“Maybe, we should keep going now to get to that inn... get out of these clothes, hm?” It was Jaskier's suggestion this time, because as much as he enjoyed standing in the rain, kissing Geralt in the rain, he liked being warmed by Geralt's body next to his in a comfy bed even more.
“You just want to get me naked, don't you?” Geralt asked, trying to suppress the smile that was about to break out on his lips.
“Maaaaaybe.” Jaskier pulled Geralt towards him for another quick kiss. “Can you blame me?”
No. No he could not, because he wanted to get Jaskier out of these wet clothes as well. To keep him from catching a cold of course.
Inspiration from this list
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I’ll be like: choosing to interpret the disabled (canon or coded), reserved, unemotional character as ace or aro or aroace when presented with a queer ship involving them stems from the discomfort you have towards disabled people and infantilizing them. It also shows your negative perception of ace or aro or aroace people. It is a predictable stereotype that is so consistent it is more boring than annoying but no less harmful. People can be ace/aro/aroace and still have relationships romantic, sexual, or queerplatonic. These people are queer. Disabled people can be in intimate relationships, their experiences in society is queer in a greater political context.
Deciding this strange character is ace/aro/aroace as a reason as to why they cannot be in a queer relationship shows that the person does not care about representation of their identity, instead they care about not seeing queer relationships. More than that, they choose this route because they do not want to have a discussion on the queerness of that character because they see queerness only in the context of relationships and/or hypersexual people. Ace/aro/aroace people cannot be in relationships therefore we do not have to look at a queer character being queer (ie: intimate with others because that is the only thing that makes a gay person gay) therefore I am not uncomfortable.
Deciding this strange character is ace/aro/aroace as a reason as to why they cannot be in a relationship shows that the person does not care about representation of their identity, instead they care about not seeing disabled people in relationships. More than that, they choose this route because they do not want to have a discussion on the experiences of that character because they see disabilities only in the context of pity. Disabled people cannot/should not be in relationships (wrong) therefore we do not have to look at a disabled character having experiences that do not fit with my perception of that disability, therefore I am not uncomfortable.
And people will be like… you hate ace and aro people no doubt and that stereotype is better than no rep at all… This is not just about my previous post, hence me not tagging it. It is about the reoccurring stereotype and underlying sentiments of it across fandoms/media.
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