This is my entry for @sordidsaovine. It was meant to be serious. Then I thought it might just be smut. in the end, it is neither.
Let it be known to the whole Continent and Geralt gave the worst advice ever. As in, the worst. Fucking. Ever. Pre-performance jitters were quite the norm, Jaskier was used to those. True, he hadn’t had them this bad in a while but that was what he got when his boyfriend’s extended family asking for a private Saovine performance. Strangers were one thing, if they didn’t like Jaskier’s music, they’d never hear it again once he moved on from the tavern. Performing in front of Geralt had become easy. He’d heard all the practice runs, the rough drafts of songs and how they were refined. He’d heard Jaskier slip up, strum the wrong note, sing off key, miss a beat and all the other ways a musician could make a mistake. But it was Geralt, he didn’t mind. His family on the other hand, they mattered a lot.
“Just a heads up,” Geralt had said as he stood next to Jaskier. “They do take Saovine fancy dress rather seriously. And it’s rather realistic.”
Which was fine, Jaskier had seen Geralt all dressed up, spelled ears and tail along with sharp teeth. He looked like a disturbingly attractive wolfman and it wasn’t fair. If his family looked anything like him, Jaskier would be in trouble.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He tried to laugh it off. “You’ve given me a good baseline of expectations.”
“If in doubt, just imagine them naked.”
Worst. Advice. Ever. Jaskier already had issues when playing sometimes. If he really got into it, he ended up being grateful for his lute hiding his rather obvious problem. It was something whispered about at Oxenfurt amongst the students. Peak Performance as they had called it and it affected almost everyone at some point or other. The pleasure and relief of playing mixed with the adrenaline confused the body. It was almost disturbing how often it affected Jaskier. To be told to imagine Geralt’s rather handsome family naked was definitely not going to help. And now it was the only thing he could think of.
It was time. Jaskier made his grand entrance and swallowed thickly as his worst fears were confirmed. Geralt’s family and friends were unfairly good looking. There was Geralt in his wolf getup, next to him was Yennefer dressed as member of the Fae high court, shimmering wings and all and Triss being the cutest pumpkin on the Continent. Also in the front row was Vesemir as a very handsomely dressed, older ‘headless ghost’ and Jaskier would have killed for his outfit without hesitation. Second row was a mishmash, of outfits, Eskel was Frankenstein’s Monster, next to him was Lambert as a zombie who Jaskier would happily be dinner for. The most eye catching though was Aiden dressed as Nilfgaardian general while Cahir was in a full witcher getup, swords and all.
Swallowing hard, Jaskier started playing. It was going surprisingly well, he sank into the performance, delighted when Triss got up to dance, pulling Vesemir with her. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, including Jaskier. Which was, naturally, the moment Geralt’s words sprang to mind.
Despite not wanting to, Jaskier’s eyes slid over his best looking audience ever and his mind conjured up what they might look like under their clothes. Even Vesemir was unfairly appealing. Jaskier was fucked. He played and he tried to shift his lute to hide his growing, not so little problem. Only, he was in a room with a bunch of people with extraordinary senses. He saw Geralt smirk, eyes drifting pointedly down to his lute. Lambert was snickering and nudging Aiden. The only one seemingly blissfully unaware was Cahir until Eskel leaned over to whisper in his ear. Eyes widening and darting down to Jaskier’s crotch, Cahir blushed before grinning widely. There was nothing Jaskier could do because he also happened to quite like an audience for everything. Being an exhibitionist made life rather difficult at times.
The final notes of the last song faded and he stood, cheeks flushed and slightly out of breath. For a few moments nobody moved then the applause broke out. It seemed Jaskier had won Geralt’s family over.
“Encore!” Eskel bellowed.
“I think we can get you singing more,” Lambert yelled and Aiden jeered.
Glancing to Geralt, Jaskier watched his boyfriend shrug with a smirk before stepping up onto the stage and kissing him deeply. Wolf whistles sounded from the others and Jaskier tugged at one wolf ear to elicit a deep growl. Breaking away and looking up, Jaskier really shouldn’t have been surprised to see Lambert tackling Eskel into a chair to kiss him while Aiden was pulling Cahir closer. Maybe Geralt gave the best advice, now that Jaskier thought of it.
Thus, a new tradition was born: Saovine Orgy. Jaskier really couldn’t complain, not when he got to sing and then be rewarded by attentive hands and mouths whispering praise against his skin. Next year, he was coming dressed as Apollo - togas were much more orgy friendly.