i was gonna do the prompt ‘sexual healing’ bc i do love me some soft sweet sex but like, i had a little shit-headed thought and had to run with it, thanks to @softdarlingjaskier for validating me and betaing 💖 i love you very much
pairing/characters: geralt and jask, the goofy long time bros version
CW: very vaguely described sex, vulgar language?, jaskier is a fucking gremlin a la the netflix canon, and geralt is a little shit, also a la netflix. idk yall i had a little fun, its goofy
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“Holy fuck, Geralt,” Jaskier burst through the door of their apartment as per usual, making Geralt extremely thankful he’d had the landlord install a door stopper, but he followed his entrance with a first for the bartender, “I think my dick is magic.”
Geralt snorted beer out his nose in laughter, shuffling over to the sink to spit it out and hack a loogie to get rid of the foam at the back of his sinuses.
“I’m serious!” Jaskier protested, slamming his messenger bag covered in pins on the counter and staring at Geralt almost as if he thought widening his eyes even more would make Geralt believe him.
Through an uncomfortable mixture of laughing and coughing, Geralt asked, as he had learned to when Jaskier got too excited, “What the fuck did you do?”
“Listen to this shit,” Jaskier immediately dropped into ‘storytime mode’ as Geralt called it, hopping up onto the counter next to his bag and leaning toward Geralt as if there were other people in the apartment to eavesdrop, “You know that girl who was in with Devin last week?”
Geralt nodded, already worrying he’d need to run interference between their mountain of a bar regular.
“She came in today- Yes, I know what you’re thinking- I checked to see if she was dating Devin, even got her to text him. All fine-”
“Tell me you didn’t fuck her in the bar bathroom,” Geralt sighed, thinking to himself that it was at least a little better than last time.
“No, that goddess got the back of the Subaru, but you’re missing the important part! Stop interrupting!”
Geralt picked up the rest of his beer and waved for him to continue as he took a swig.
“Before we ah, got friendly-”
“Fucked.”
“Fine, before we fucked. She was complaining about back problems and having to go to the chiropractor all the time. And so I was a gentleman, I made sure she was comfortable, made sure everyone was having a good time. But while we were fu-cking-” Jaskier spat the word at Geralt which only got a sly grin in response, “-there were like a hundred little pops and she moaned and came right after. And I shit you not, she has texted me three times to go out sometime because her back hasn’t hurt since.” Jaskier slapped his hand down on the counter, “Magic healing dick.”
Doing his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face, Geralt pointed at him with the neck of his beer bottle, “You think that’s proof your dick is magical?”
“Well,” Jaskier feigned a shy smile, “that and it’s so good looking.”
“You’re insufferable,” Geralt groaned, rolling his eyes and opening the fridge, “Want a beer?”
“Please!”
Geralt bent down to grab a bottle from the beer shelf and stopped short, taking in a sharp breath and hissing a curse through his teeth.
“What did you do?” Jaskier asked, jumping off the counter like Geralt knew he would.
With his best leer and high pitched moaning voice, Geralt looked over his shoulder, still bent over, “I think I hurt my back. Fuck me?”
The first time Jaskier meets Geralt's brothers, it's at an inn on their way to Kaer Morhen. Geralt and Jaskier arrive first. Jaskier's bags get soaked from the pouring rain, so Geralt lets him borrow his clothes.
Jaskier meets Eskel and Lambert, dressed in Geralt's shirt and pants, hanging a bit loose over his body.
Eskel and Lambert exchange looks and immediately assume the same thing: Their brother and the bard are sleeping together.
They actually try to be good brothers and don't go teasing Geralt at all. In fact, they wait for Geralt to tell them himself. They even encourage him a bit.
Eskel: You know, if you'll ever be with someone who's good for you and makes you feel nice, you can tell us. If you're happy, we're happy.
Lambert: Yeah, we don't care. As long as you grumpy-ass-fucker are happy. I can understand why a guy would want to sleep with another man. Some of them are- damn.
And Geralt is sitting there, staring up at them from his tankard, all like: ????
***
A couple of months later spent in Kaer Morhen, Geralt slowly starts to realize his feelings for Jaskier. So he decides to talk to his brothers about it.
Geralt: I wanted to ask you something. And please don't be dicks about it. What do I do if I really like someone?
Eskel: *staring at him in confusion*
Lambert: *gasping and slamming his fist on the table* You're cheating on Jaskier!?
Geralt, blinking: What? No- I'm talking about Jaskier!
Lambert: Seriously, what the fuck!?
Eskel: Lambert, I think we misunderstood something-
Geralt, growling: I like Jaskier.
Lambert, rolling his eyes: Of course you like him, you moron, you're in a relationship with him!
i've been reading some witcher fic again and it just occurred to me. like right now. that while a spectacularly petty breakup masterpiece it is, burn butcher burn is actually directed at jaskier.
like the whole thing is literally an argument to convince himself that the yearning is pointless.
incredible. it was always a powerful moment but the fact that that's the part of the whole mess he's chosen to weaponize is a whole new level of *chef's kiss*
Sure Jaskier's neighbour might be so beautiful it's illegal in like 14 countries with a face that would make Mother Theresa cry but this was TOO MUCH!
He stomped over to the apartment across his and banged on the door, but the sound was drowned out by the blasting music on the other side.
Terrible. Music. To add insult to injury.
Gritting his teeth he tried the door knob and found it unlocked so he burst in all fury and the rage born of 48 hours without sleep.
Before he could take a step a large German Shepherd was up and growling with murderous intent, but before Jaskier could see his terribly embarrassingly uneventful life flash before his eyes a strong hand gripped the hound's collar.
Eerie glowing amber eyes glared at him in silence.
"Listen-" Jaskier started but realised his voice was still drowned out. Spotting the offending stero he marched over and plugged it out instead of turning it off. "Listen bud, I don't mean to insult your taste in music...okay I am, a little, seriously Valdo!? I could barf into a tin bucket and it would be better music! Where was I...oh yeah! This is just TOO LOUD! I've been forgoing sleep two days and...why are you glaring like that? And why aren't you saying anything?"
The man and his dog were equally feral in their silence as they stared him down. In confusion Jaskier allowed himself a little glance around and...oh...
There were sticky notes all over. No TV. The intercom was ripped off. On the fridge was a photo of a blonde girl and an elven boy doing the sign for love.
He was deaf.
Jaskier opened his mouth then thought better. He lifted his hands and thanked Jospeh, Mary, and Moses his parents insisted in language classes, even though he hasn't signed in years.
Signing "sorry. Music very loud."
The man raised an eyebrow. Something almost like amusement in his eyes.
Sweet baby Beyonce but the man was beautiful. He fidgets a bit but the man doesn't chase him off and the dog seems to have settled.
Jaskier takes it as an invitation to stay.
Geralt proves to be the best friend he's ever had. Sure he mostly responds with grunts and only the occasional amused smirk and sign, but he hasn't tossed Jaskier out yet when he comes over with his guitar and notebook. He argues that the noise obviously wont bother the man and his couch (and food) was MUCH nicer than his own.
So he spends a lot of time on Geralt's couch writing, singing, or chatting into the silence. As weeks turn into months he starts to feel more at home there than his own apartment. Geralt no longer grumbles when he throws a blanket over a (pretending to be) sleeping Jaskier and leaves his door unlocked when he is in and not...out somewhere. He still wont tell Jaskier what he does.
Geralt smiles at him more and he could've sworn he once saw the man tapping his fingers along with his song. But deaf or blind people's other senses of often heightened so the man probably feels the vibrations of his guitar.
He songs slowly turn into ballads then into love songs. Sometimes he would just sing about Geralt and his eyes and his smile. Relieved the man couldn't hear him sing about how he had fallen in love with a stranger that would never hear him say he loves him.
The pining hurts but everytime he spends a night at the bar with friends he is miserable and thinks of how he would rather be on Geralt's couch smiling at the man fondly rolling his eyes.
Jaskier barely drops his bag off in his cold apartment before he opens Geralt's with a 'Honey I'm home!' when he stops short.
A woman. Dangerously beautiful with ebony hair and deep violent eyes lifts a perfect eyebrow at him.
"Oh, err.." he says awkwardly. Geralt had never had guests over before. The thought that this might be a girlfriend burns sharply in his chest. "Is Geralt here?"
"You must be Jaskier," she says with a ominous grin. "Oh Geralt!" she calls towards the bedroom.
Jaskier is about to scoff at her that Geralt can't hear her when-
"Yen," a deep growling voice responds and the man steps into the room eyes down as he buttons an illegally form fitting black shirt. "Would it kill you to wait in the car instead of yelling?" he stops short when he looks up to see Jaskier.
Guitar hanging in a limp grip, wet eyes wide and horrified, shining with betrayal and hurt. Mouth open but so characteristically silent its uncomfortable.
"Jaskier," he starts but he is met with a slamming door, followed by a muffled other door opening and slamming with the sound of a lock turning.
This came from the fleeting thought of Jaskier as Sleeping Beauty
i am currently drunk but i wrote this sober lmao
now on AO3
next>>
Geralt had found a particularly beautiful spot to set up camp. A small clearing surrounded by bushes of bright flowers of every color with a lone cherry willow in full bloom hanging lazily over a crystal clear stream. The sky was falling into night with beautiful bursts of purple and pink and Jaskier strummed mindlessly at his lute, waiting for Geralt to get back from his hunt.
His leg was resting across his knee and he bounced his foot in time with his strumming and humming. Eventually, his humming turned into a song.
“I was following the pack,
All swallowed in their coats,
With scarves of red tied ‘round their throats.”
Jaskier sang, his voice low and coming from his throat. The color the sky was turning reminded him of the song and he felt more relaxed in this moment than he had in quite a long while.
However, Jaskier was being watched. Over the stream, peeking through a bush, were two gleaming little emerald eyes. A nymph had taken interest in Jaskier from the moment he and Geralt set up camp. She liked the way his clothes shimmered when he walked, the way his gold buttons gleamed in the sun, the way his hair was fluffy, and that he spoke sweetly to his horse. His voice was the final straw for her. Better than any songbird, more beautiful than any siren, a voice like melted gold and rabbit’s fur. She must have him, she thought. And she was about to, standing from her spot in the brush she made her way across the stream and was coming up behind Jaskier when-
Noise, movement, in the trees, a massive beast whose aura radiated danger was coming towards the nymph and her shimmering man! She couldn’t help him and she apologized to him before, with a puff of leaves, she transformed herself into a bush of hydrangeas.
The beast who radiated danger was Geralt, back from his hunt, victorious, and with two rabbits.
“And I turned ‘round and there he goes!” Jaskier greeted, continuing his song and changing the lyrics to suit his need.
“And Geralt you would fall,
And turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime!”
Geralt had a bashful smile on his lips and his cheeks burned red, Jaskier loved to see it. Big, strong, scary witcher blushing because his boyfriend mentioned him in a song. Geralt leaned down and greeted Jaskier with a kiss.
“I’ve brought rabbits.” He said, still inches away from Jaskier’s face.
“Your mouth moved but I was too lost in your eyes to hear anything.” Jaskier said. The red that warmed Geralt’s cheeks spread throughout the rest of his face and he immediately got himself out of the situation as fast as he could. Jaskier laughed and put his lute to the side, not noticing the bush behind him shake ever so slightly. Geralt did, and so did his medallion. He stared at the bush just behind Jaskier and tried to remember if it was there before. His thoughts were interpreted, however, by Jaskier leaning in front of his line of sight with a massive, dumb grin on his face.
They conversed, drank from a bottle of ale, and ate rabbit. They sat next to each other, laughed together, flirted together, kissed, and when they finally felt like it, they fell asleep in each other's arms. All the while the nymph was stuck in place, forced to watch her lover be handled by a brute, and have the audacity to reciprocate. It took all she had to keep herself from shaking with rage and setting off that witcher’s medallion. Now that they were fast asleep she was free to be rid of her disguise and move freely. She crawled forward, tentatively and quietly, hardly moving the grass under her. Furry boiled her blood as she loomed over the sleeping men. So comfortable and content her simmering man was, how softly he breathed, how gently the smile curled the corners of his lips, how dare he. She leaned down, her lips ghosting over her shimmering man’s ear. The beast man stirred in his sleep as his stupid little medallion vibrated at her presence, but he did not wake.
“Hear me.” The nymph whispered into her shimmering man’s ear. “To look with love at those so close, into his head will sleep choose a host, should lips to meet and mean the most, break the hold of life - a ghost. Come to me with hand in heart, past love leaving taste like tart, into my bosom this curse shall part.”
A breeze picked up a collection of cherry blossom petals and leaves and danced them around the nymph. With a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s temple, the Nymph disappeared in a small flurry of pink.
---
The next morning Geralt was the first to wake up, as usual. Jaskier looked to be deep in sleep, lips parted, hair falling to one side, breathing slow and shallow. Geralt cupped Jaskier’s face in his hand and gently rubbed his thumb under his cheekbone. Jaskier sniffled and whined before unconsciously leaning into the touch. Geralt watched him for a moment before sitting up and resting his arms on his knees. He looked up and appreciated the hazy orange of the morning sky before standing and getting a start on packing camp up.
He started by emptying his waterskin on the few embers that still burned in the fire. Behind him he heard Jaskier stretch and moan, a small smile crept its way onto Geralt's face at the sound without him realizing it.
“Morning.” Geralt said turning around to look at Jaskier, but instead of finding his bard angrily shielding his eyes from the sun and pouting, he found Jaskier laying back into, what looked like, another deep sleep. Geralt blinked a few times at Jaskier, a bit confused, but continued what he was doing.
Gathering up Roach’s tack he called her in from where she was grazing. Behind him, Jaskier stretched and moaned again, Geralt raised an eyebrow at the sound and half looked over his shoulder. More towards Jaskier than actually looking at him.
“Finally awake?” He asked. Jaskier moaned his response, Geralt huffed a laugh and got to work dressing Roach in her tack.
“M’head feels all…” Jaskier waved his hands in front of him to indicate what his head was feeling. His head felt entrapped by a thick fog that was just now dispersing. He had been woken from a deep sleep so suddenly it felt like someone had snatched a heady blanket off of him. He closed his eyes hard for a moment before blinking a few times and taking in his surroundings.
“I had the strangest dream last night.” He said, rubbing his ear. Geralt turned to look at Jaskier and saw him start to fall backward but was fast enough to catch him before he was able to hit his head on the hard ground. Geralt’s medallion vibrated so strongly it bounced off of his chest at Jaskier’s presence. His heart and mind raced, what the hell did this mean? What was happening to Jaskier?
“Jaskier.” Geralt said, shaking him, but to no response. “Jaskier.” He repeated shaking a bit harder with, again, no response. Geralt gripped Jaskier’s jaw and studied his face, looking for any sign of distress and or an answer. There, on his temple, the faintest mark of a kiss, hardly noticeable to even a witcher but still there nonetheless. Whatever left the kiss must be the one doing… this - must be causing this. Geralt looked up to Roach, who was equally confused, and Jaskier stirred awake in his arms.
“Mmm, fuck.” He mumbled, he rolled his head in movement with his eyes and blinked a few times at the situation he seemed to be in before looking at Geralt. “Hello.” He said with a smile. Geralt had caught on to the spell though and kept his eyes on Roach. Jaskier sat himself up and touched Geralt’s chin with his fingertips. The pressure told Geralt to move his head, the resistance against his fingers told Jaskier he didn’t want to. With a concerned look, Jaskier searched the forest in the direction Geralt was looking.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, sinking a little closer to his wall of witcher protection. Geralt hummed and sighed, pressing his hand to Jaskier’s back in case he fell again.
“Something cast a spell on you last night.” Geralt said, fully expecting Jaskier to fall back asleep when he talked but relieved he didn’t.
“What?” Jaskier said, leaning away and patting down his chest and legs, looking for a mark or bruise or some form of sign that there was indeed a spell on him. “How? When? Who-”
“I don't know.” Geralt interrupted, standing and going back to packing up the camp, faster now though.
“I don't feel any different.” Jaskier said, standing and moving towards Geralt. Sure his head was a bit foggy but he had just woken up was all. Before he could get too close Geralt held his hand out behind him to stop Jaskier. Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders slumped, and face pouting. Geralt wasn’t looking at him, it was weird and he didn’t like it. Sure Geralt wasn’t the best at eye contact but Jaskier still liked being able to look at his face when they talked, looking into his eyes even if he didn’t always look into Jaskier’s. Now he wasn’t even turning his head in Jaskier’s direction and it was like they were back in their first year together. Back when Jaskier would hold conversations with the back of Geralt’s head and do his best to survive nine months of touch starvation.
“Geralt please,” He begged, following the back of Geralt’s head as he collected the remaining parts of camp. “What’s going on?”
“Do you not remember?” Geralt asked as he rolled the bedrolls together, lifting his head and only turning it slightly towards Jaskier’s direction.
“Well obviously not otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you.” he said, temper rising, not out of anger but out of fear. Geralt stood and held his hand to his face to avoid Jaskier, receiving an angry huff in return and stamping feet following him to Roach.
“You’ve fallen asleep three times this morning.” Geralt said, attaching the rolls to Roach’s saddle.
“So? I've done that before Geralt - mornings are not my thing - you know that. It doesn’t mean I've got a hex on me!”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
“Like this.” Geralt turned and faced Jaskier, but nothing happened. Jaskier stood, hands on his hips and a pout on his face unamused by Geralt’s little… whatever this was. Jaskier shrugged and held his hands out, gesturing at the nothing that had happened.
“Like what?” He asked. Geralt looked Jaskier up and down, He looked fine, sturdy on his feet, awake, not even looking the least bit drowsy. He stepped closer, slowly, hesitantly, holding his arms out ready to catch Jaskier should he fall. Jaskier dropped his arms and rolled his head back in both annoyance and relief that things were fine.
“Geralt, dear heart,” He said, moving his head back down to look at Geralt. The concern he showed was sweet and Jaskier welcomed him forward when they finally met, wrapping the witcher’s hands around his waist. Jaskier closed his eyes and shook his head, really, a spell cast on him in the middle of the night right under a witcher's nose? Unbeliv-
Like a light he was out again, dropping like a sack of flour in Geralt’s prepared arms.
“Like that.” Geralt grumbled. So his theory that Jaskier would sleep if Geralt looked at him was wrong. Geralt looked up at the sky, testing his second theory that when he looked away from Jaskier he would wake back up. Sure enough, Jaskier stirred awake in his arms, head groggy, eyes blurry, very confused.
“What happened?” He asked, steadying himself on Geralt till he could stand on his own.
“You fell asleep.” Geralt said, still looking at the sky. Jaskier stopped and thought. He… well he certainly felt like he had just woken up, remembered being awake a moment ago… He looked with concern at the bottom of Geralt’s chin. “What’s happening to me?” He asked. Geralt pulled Jaskier in and rested his chin on Jaskier’s head.
“I don't know,” He admitted. “But I'm going to find out.”
