romtober day 15: near miss kiss
Rating: T
Ship: Geraskier
Word Count: 528
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are drinking in a tavern. They almost kiss.
“You’re drunk,” Geralt chided, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
He couldn’t hide the tilt fond smile, though, or the way he tilted his head at Jaskier as Jaskier moved closer. Jaskier had been noticing these looks more and more, and he had to admit, he was a bit drunk on those as well. Geralt’s small little smiles, just for Jaskier. The way he sometimes placed a steadying hand on Jaskier’s back, but kept it there for far longer than was strictly necessary. All the times Jaskier had caught Geralt staring, only to flush and look away as soon as their eyes met.
“As if you’re one to talk,” Jaskier scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand.
He sank onto the bench beside Geralt, straddling it to help him get as close to Geralt as he could, while facing him. Geralt was turned in his direction, too, and he was just the slightest bit drunk. Nothing compared to Jaskier, of course, but there, in the hazy way he looked at Jaskier. There, in the automatic hand that went to Jaskier’s outer thigh, just below his hip, heavy and warm and steadying.
“Your fault,” Geralt answered, and his voice was lower now, his eyes hooded.
“And how do you suppose that, darling?” Jaskier said, his voice just as low.
Jaskier placed a hand on Geralt’s chest, just over his heart, and maybe if they stayed really still, even stiller than Jaskier was sure he was capable of in this state, he could feel the slow thump thump thump of his heartbeat. Maybe it would be faster. Maybe Geralt’s slow heart would speed up to be almost human. Jaskier could dare to dream he had that effect on his witcher.
“You kept bringing me drinks,” Geralt said. Jaskier almost forgot what they were talking about.
“You kept accepting them,” Jaskier countered.
He had to be imagining the way Geralt was leaning in closer. Jaskier knew he wasn’t imagining the way he was leaning in return. Just a little closer. Geralt’s breath was hot on his face. Jaskier’s free hand landed on the crook of Geralt’s neck. Geralt’s free hand gripped at Jaskier’s doublet, wrinkling the fabric at his waist. Jaskier probably closed his eyes before Geralt did, but it was hard to tell, he wasn’t really tracking the changes anymore. Just getting closer, close enough to touch, and–
A tankard smashed at the next table over and the tavern was filled with raucous voices as the Gwent game dissolved into a fight. Jaskier’s eyes flew open and he jerked back in his surprise before Geralt was up and hauling him away from the fight breaking out.
They were at the opposite end of the tavern, now, watching as the owner broke up the fight and sent the men out. When Jaskier turned to look at Geralt, they shared a laugh, but the heat from their previous entanglement was gone. They would have another chance, Jaskier knew, but as Geralt cleared his throat and muttered something about going to bed, he knew it wouldn’t be tonight.
That was fine. Jaskier could wait. He had gotten so good at it.
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