Good as Gold pt.25
[part twenty-four] [prostitute!jaskier masterpost]
This is it, my lovelies, the moment I’ve been dreading for months. I can’t believe all of this started with a little headcanon and you were all so enthusiastic that it wound up with 25 chapters. Thank you all for your love and support (and patience!!) through the entire process of writing this, it would definitely not have gotten this far without you. Thank you so much for sticking with me and with this fic, I love you all so much 💖
When Geralt arrives at the brothel, there's some sort of commotion going on and he's glad for it, relieved to have something to think about other than the anxious pit in his stomach. Even his legs are shaking as he steps through the door and he holds his breath as he passes the madame, but she's obviously too riled up about something else to even notice him. As Geralt slips past and up the stairs, he briefly hears the word Julian hissed under her breath and it takes everything in him not to laugh. It almost distracts him from what he's actually here for.
He has been trained to have control in life-threatening situations and somehow a human man has gotten under his skin enough that he's almost shaking. He's glad for the distraction.
Geralt climbs the stairs and knocks on Jaskier's door and he can hear him muttering to himself as he comes to open the door. Whatever happened downstairs, Jaskier thinks they're overreacting about it. He's not looking when he opens the door but when he tips his head up, he beams and flings his arms around Geralt's neck.
"Geralt," he hums, burying his face in his neck, "you have no idea how happy I am to see you." He draws back as Geralt's arms wind around his waist and kisses him deeply.
Geralt sinks into it, forgetting about everything else but the warmth of Jaskier's body and his mouth against his own. It feels like an eternity that they stand there in the doorway, but when Jaskier draws back it feels like it’s only been seconds. Jaskier's smiling and he runs his hands up Geralt's chest, sighing softly.
"What have you done that's upset them?" Geralt smirks.
"I turned away an important customer this morning," Jaskier shrugs, slipping his hands under Geralt's jacket to haul him close again. "I didn't want to see him." Jaskier's eyes flick up and he smiles softly as he shuts them. "I wanted to see you. And here you are."
Jaskier's lips brush his own and something hot and possessive rises in Geralt's chest. As fingers tangle in his hair, he surges forward, pinning Jaskier between the wall and his own body. It's only been a couple of weeks since he was here last, but it feels like forever. Something has changed irrevocably between them and rather than be afraid of it, Geralt is elated.
He presses forward as Jaskier's hand falls to his waist and it's not until he's crouched down, pulling Jaskier up into his arms, that he remembers the bundle at the bottom of his bag. With his heart suddenly pounding in his chest, Geralt carries him across the room, though he's given a rightfully confused look when he plops Jaskier down on the dresser, rather than the bed.
"Mm, darling as much as I love trying new things with you, I don't know if this old thing will hold up."
"I have something for you," Geralt blurts and the smirk on Jaskier's face morphs into confused interest. "I picked it up in Skellige," Geralt mumbles, ducking away to grab his bag from the floor. "It's... well," he shrugs awkwardly, producing the small bundle and crossing back toward Jaskier.
He slips between Jaskier’s knees, resting one hand on his thigh, more to steady himself than anything, and holds the bundle out to him. Jaskier takes it with a gentle hand, eyes still on Geralt's face.
Geralt holds his breath as Jaskier pulls back the layers of silk wrapping. He freezes as soon as the handle is revealed and Geralt swallows hard, desperate to know what he's thinking.
"I thought it suited you better than a sword or-" Geralt shrugs. He's only talking to fill the silence, he doesn't even really know what he's saying.
Jaskier uncovers the dagger with shaking fingers and Geralt aches to cover his hands with his own, to twine their fingers together and pull Jaskier close again. The few inches between them feel like a chasm and time seems to stretch on as Jaskier stares at the blade in his hands.
"Is this-" he starts, "Geralt do you- are you asking me to come with you?" he barely catches the words, so softly spoken and drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in his ears.
"If that's still what you want."
Jaskier blinks at him as if trying to decipher his meaning then all at once his bottom lip quivers and he reaches out to him. Geralt presses a soft hand to his chest, sliding it up to the side of his neck when Jaskier stills.
"You asked me once who I think of when everything seems hopeless. I think of you." Jaskier lets out a soft little laugh and he shakes as he swats at Geralt.
"You can't just say that to a person, Geralt." Jaskier huffs, but his voice is uneven, his eyes glossy and when Geralt makes to lean forward, Jaskier reaches out first, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.
He's trembling, even as Geralt pulls him forward and holds him close and if it wasn't for the overwhelming scent of affection pouring off of him, Geralt might think he'd made a mistake. But he knows better than that now, knows that this isn't the one-sided thing he feared it was for so long.
When he draws back, Jaskier chokes on a sob, but he's smiling as he looks up at Geralt.
"Of course I want to, my beautiful, wonderful Witcher." He runs his thumb over Geralt's cheekbone, still grinning madly even as he draws him back into another kiss.
Jaskier doesn't draw back again until he's breathless, staring up at Geralt with flushed cheeks. "I love you," he whispers.
Geralt freezes and his chest tightens. He knows. Logically, he knows Jaskier loves him, but to hear it... He doesn't quite know what to do with himself. Before he even realizes what he's doing, he's leaning in, pulling Jaskier closer and kissing him. His fingers dig into Jaskier's skin, slipping under his robe as Jaskier's legs wrap around his waist. Gods it feels good to have him here again and this time, Geralt knows he won't be leaving alone.
In a rush of emotion, he hauls Jaskier into his arms, and deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue between Jaskier's lips. Jaskier moans against him, tangling his hands in Geralt's hair and tugging gently.
The wave of scent that wafts off Jaskier is overwhelming, a combination of love and lust and all-consuming want. Geralt is dizzy with it. He holds Jaskier against him, sliding one hand up Jaskier's back to keep him steady as they remain like that for some time. But as Jaskier shifts, Geralt can feel the press of his cock, swelling within his trousers, and he hoists him up to get a better grip and crosses to the bed.
He gets Jaskier laid out on his back and crawls up over him, kissing his lips, his jaw, down his neck. Jaskier is soft and pliable, content to slip his fingers through Geralt's hair and down his arms. Geralt takes advantage of it, trailing soft kisses down Jaskier's chest and stomach, pausing just above the hem of his trousers. Jaskier whines softly but makes no attempt to stop him or take control, so Geralt proceeds.
His fingers fumble with the fastenings, but he puts it down to eagerness and the lingering anxiety of Jaskier's response and pushes through. When he gets them open, Jaskier lifts his hips, eager to assist in their removal and Geralt huffs a soft laugh against his skin. He presses his nose into Jaskier's hip, inhaling the scent of his skin as he tugs the trousers down and shoves them away off the bed. Above him, Jaskier mumbles softly, tangling his fingers in Geralt's hair as Geralt noses as his cock.
He tugs as little as Geralt's lips wrap around the head and his hips give a twitch, pushing up into his mouth. Geralt lets him, sinks down on him as Jaskier groans, and takes him deep. He knows how Jaskier likes to fuck his mouth and Geralt wants to give him everything, wants to prove that he's worth giving all of this up for. His own cock aches under him and he shifts against the bed, moaning around Jaskier.
As he pulls up, he wraps his tongue around the head, paying special attention to the underside. It gets a positive response, so Geralt doubles down, slipping off the head to suck at that spot. Jaskier's knees draw up immediately, pressing in on either side of Geralt's head and he whines as he arches off the bed. He groans and pleads and Geralt gives in to every whim, humming against his skin even as Jaskier tugs at his hair. Pre-come pools at the head and Geralt is quick to lick it away, dragging his tongue along the slit. Before he can take him down again, Jaskier pushes himself up, tugging Geralt up to meet him and kissing him urgently.
It's sloppy and rushed but Geralt gives in to it immediately, letting Jaskier gain control over him. Jaskier goes immediately for his shirt, undoing the buttons blindly with practiced fingers and tugging until the shit comes untucked. He yanks it over Geralt's head and it's forgotten about, but Jaskier's lips don't leave his once, not until he tries to shrug out of the robe and Geralt pulls away.
"Leave it on?" he breathes and Jaskier beams, surging forward to kiss him again.
"Anything for you, my love." He grins as he shoves Geralt back against the bed and keeps his eyes on him as he nuzzles against his thigh.
Geralt is already visibly aroused, but he feels himself swell under Jaskier's touch. Shivers run up his spine as Jaskier makes his way up and mouths at him through his trousers. But his patience runs thin and he quickly unbuttons Geralt's trousers and tugs them down his legs. Geralt groans as he pulls away, but as soon as his trousers have been removed and tossed aside, Jaskier's mouth is back on his skin.
He works his way up slowly, nipping at the inside of his ankle. By the time Jaskier reaches his thighs, Geralt is squirming under the touch and the little nips Jaskier gives him aren't helping. He knows they have time, that they don't have to rush, but he wants. And when Jaskier sucks at his skin, it sends jolts of pleasure straight through to his cock. Geralt rolls his hips encouragingly, but Jaskier is more concerned with his thighs and making sure everyone who might see him knows Geralt belongs to someone. And that thought does nothing to quell the rising need within him. And Jaskier knows. Geralt can feel it in the way his hand slips up just shy of his cock, and the way he sucks harder the more Geralt squirms. And then, just as he thinks Jaskier is about to relent, Geralt is rolled onto his stomach.
His thighs are nudged apart and Jaskier settles between them, pushing his hands up the backs of his thighs. He squeezes his ass and leans down to press a kiss to his lower back.
"Do you have any idea how happy you make me?" he breathes and Geralt whines. He can't imagine it, can't possibly consider that he makes Jaskier anywhere near as happy as Jaskier makes him. "Gods, Geralt."
Jaskier hums against his skin, hands framing Geralt's hips and as he moves down, Geralt shuts his eyes, focusing on the press of Jaskier's lips. He moves lower, nosing at the swell of Geralt's ass before pressing between his cheeks. His breath is hot and Geralt shudders against it, pressing his hips up.
"That's it, beautiful."
The first press of Jaskier's tongue has him squirming again, but then Jaskier's fingers press into his skin and he settles. Jaskier has a wickedly talented tongue and he's never been afraid to prove it. He runs his tongue over him and Geralt buries his face in the sheets, fingers tangling in the smooth fabric. He groans as Jaskier works his tongue into him and pushes his hips back off the bed.
His cock hangs heavy beneath him, but Jsskier takes advantage of the new position, slipping a hand under his hip to hold him up as he pushes deeper, thrusts quicker. Jaskier's free hand brushes up Geralt's thigh and then his fingers press in next to his tongue, slipping around his rim.
Jaskier draws away for a moment, but Geralt doesn't even have a chance to catch his breath before he's back, sliding slicked-up fingertips against his hole. He teases around the edge before pressing against him and Geralt only barely holds back from pushing back onto him. He knows Jaskier will make him feel good and he folds his arms under his head, giving Jask full control.
"Okay?" Jask asks and Geralt just nods. "Sure, love?"
"Yeah," he breathes, "Jask, please." Immediately, Jaskier's finger slips into him and Geralt groans, tugging the bunched sheets under his face.
"I've missed it too, love. Let me take care of you."
Geralt huffs and slumps against the bed, whining as his cock drags against the sheets. Jaskier gets a second finger into him, spreading him open and thrusting in deeply. He shifts so he's straddling Geralt's thigh, his cock slick and hot pressing into his skin. He rocks gently in time with his fingers and by the time he adds a third, there's a smear of pre-come just below the swell of his ass.
Jaskier moves again, settling back between his thighs. He presses his cock between Geralt's cheeks, sliding against him before pressing in and he slides a hand down Geralt's back, tangling in his hair. He tugs lightly as he rocks forward, giving a couple of thrusts before letting go and pulling out.
Gently, he rolls Geralt onto his back again, pressing his knees under his thighs and leaning up over him. He kisses Geralt's jaw as he pushes back in and Geralt wraps his legs around him, pulling him in close. The laugh he gets in response tickles and he squirms as Jaskier nuzzles against his neck.
When Jaskier pulls back, he pauses to look at him, hips still rocking forward steadily, and Geralt is at a loss. He never thought he'd find someone to love him, never even considered it and Jaskier just came into his life and didn't let go. Now he's here and he's his and Geralt never has to worry about letting him go again.
Without thinking, he leans up and wraps his arms around him, drawing Jaskier back down with him. He kisses him deeply, brushing his fingers through his hair and when he pulls away, he's breathless.
"I love you," he whispers and the little whimper Jaskier lets out almost undoes him.
"Oh, Geralt," he breathes, "I love you so much."
He tucks his head into Geralt's neck, kissing under his jaw and mumbling softly. Geralt tips his head back for him, relishing in the press of Jaskier's lips and the weight of his body against him.
When Geralt comes, it's almost as an afterthought, so wrapped up in Jaskier's touch and his mouth against his own that he doesn't notice it creeping up on him. Jaskier works him through it, following shortly with his face pressed into Geralt's shoulder.
He laughs as he catches his breath, slipping out and dropping to the side to curl around Geralt.
"You're amazing," he whispers and it's Geralt's turn to huff a laugh.
"You don't have to keep praising me," he hums, tipping his head to kiss Jaskier's temple. "You've already got me. I'm already yours." Jaskier lets out a happy sigh and stretches up to kiss him.
"I know that, my darling. But you know I've always been honest with you, darling. I've never once exaggerated my feelings for you, you were different right from the beginning."
"Okay," Geralt agrees. He settles, wrapping one arm around Jaskier's shoulder to run his fingers through his hair.
"How was your trip?"
"Long. And once I read your letter I couldn't wait to get back here." Jaskier hums, self-satisfied. "I have to say it wasn't what I was expecting."
"I wrote it over the winter." Jaskier twines their fingers together, holding their joined hands to inspect them. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"You thought about fucking me all winter? Locals not keeping you busy enough?" Geralt smirks. He's expecting a snarky response, but instead, Jaskier falls silent, running his thumb up the side of Geralt's index finger.
"There's another letter. I... wasn't sure how you'd react to that one, so I didn't mention it before."
"Could I read it?"
"If you promise not to take back what you said about me coming with you."
Geralt wraps his hand around Jaskier's, pulling it down between them as he rolls onto his side. "I'm sure I'll regret it later," he grins, "but nothing could make me change my mind."
Jaskier swats at him but smiles as he disentangles himself and slips off the bed. He crosses to the dresser, pulling the top drawer open and reaching beneath the rest of the contents. He pulls out a letter in an envelope, turning it over in his hands before shutting the drawer again and returning to the bed. He sits near the end and passes the envelope to Geralt, folding his hands in his lap and looking up at him expectantly.
"I wasn't expecting you to read it when I wrote it, so it might be a bit... much."
Geralt's suddenly overwhelmed by nervous anticipation. He puts it down to Jaskier's own nervousness rubbing off on him. He opens the envelope and unfolds the letter inside and at first glance, it's almost identical to the one he read on Skellige, but when he reads the first lines, his breath catches.
Geralt,
I miss you. I don't know how else to say it. I thought you'd be back, that last time was just a bad day or something, but the more days pass the more I realize you're not coming. I knew from that first day that I should have stayed away, but I couldn't. Everyone told me you'd be bad for me, but I didn't listen. I didn't care. I went ahead and fell in love with you anyway. Viv and Anise are sympathetic in their own way but I know they're only one wrong word away from I told you so at any moment. I didn't listen.
There's a break in the letter and it's obvious the next part was written later on. The print is thicker, messier and it makes Geralt feel something he doesn't want to look too closely at. He knows he hurt Jaskier and he doesn't want to think about that again.
The worst part is that most days I just miss your voice. I don't want your money, I don't even want to fuck you. I just want to listen to you talking, the low light of the evening spilling in through the window. And I want to hold you, to run my fingers through your hair while you sleep. To not have to give you up every time you return.
The letter goes on, but Geralt can't focus. He re-reads the same line four times before setting the letter to the side and rising up to his knees. He reaches out wordlessly, pulling Jaskier up into his lap and leaning back against the wall.
"I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, love." Geralt kisses him again and Jaskier grins against his lips, arching forward into him.
It's with great reluctance that Geralt leaves the brothel that afternoon. His heart aches, but he knows it won't be long before he sees Jaskier again, that this ending is rather the beginning of something new. But he'd grown attached to this room, to the brothel itself, and even this shitty little town he once wouldn’t think twice about.
Jaskier sees him off on the front porch and Geralt can feel his eyes on him long after he turns away. He doesn't dare look back because he knows he wouldn't be able to resist asking Jaskier to come with him now. But Jaskier needs time. Time to get his things together. Time to say goodbye. The thought leaves an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he reminds himself that Jaskier wants this. He's said it again and again and Geralt is still hesitant to take him away from his life here.
When he asks for a room at the inn, the innkeeper seems surprised to see him. It makes sense; Geralt used to be a frequent customer (although he rarely returned to his room other than to collect his things), but he doesn't stay often anymore. He'd rather spend his nights with Jaskier and if Jaskier's willing to have him there, there's not any reason to leave.
It's an upstairs room for him tonight, one he's stayed in before, though he's stayed in most of them - if not all - at this point. Geralt lays his things out like he normally would, but this time he takes inventory, making a mental list of everything he needs to buy before they head out. Because now he has someone to look after.
He checks and double-checks and grinds herbs and checks his armour, but he still doesn't feel prepared. This is what he wants, this is what they both want, but it doesn't stop him from being terrified.
Halfway through sharpening his swords, there's a knock on the door and Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin. He's too distracted, not focused enough on his surroundings. He'll have to get back in the habit if he's going to take Jaskier out on the Path with him.
Taking a deep breath, Geralt sets his sword down next to the chair and pushes himself to his feet. He doesn't have time for any problems tonight, nor for anyone wanting to catch a glimpse of a Witcher, but when he opens the door, it's neither.
Jaskier is standing before him in trousers and a fancy doublet. Geralt's eyes follow the embroidery all the way down and he huffs a soft laugh as he catches a glimpse of a cloak that could only be described as decorative. Perhaps it will warm his shoulders, but not much more. He smiles to himself as he meets Jaskier's eyes again. This is going to be a phenomenal disaster, but gods does he love this man.
"That's awfully fancy for travelling clothes," he hums, reaching out to run a hand down the front of the doublet. Perhaps not ideal travelling garb, but he does like the feeling of it. Jask reaches up and for a second Geralt thinks he's going to stop him, but his fingers settle on the delicate buttons, undoing them one at a time until the doublet falls open, revealing a lacy undershirt beneath.
"Better?" Jaskier asks, "or should I take it off altogether?"
It's a joke, Geralt knows, but the way Jaskier's eyes sparkle makes him want to take him up on the offer. And if he loses a couple of extra layers at the same time, well? no one else is around to worry about that.
"Come in," he says and Jask beams up at him, already pulling his lute case from his back as he passes.
Geralt just watches silently as Jaskier piles his things in the corner and crosses to sit on the bed.
"Can I stay tonight?" he asks and Geralt lifts an eyebrow at him. "Only I told Lorelei I wasn't coming back and she didn't seem too pleased with me when I told her why."
He flashes a grin up at him and Geralt crosses to stand between his knees, cupping Jaskier's face in his hands. He kisses him, soft and sweet and Jaskier hums like he's been waiting for months for this. He winds his arms around Geralt's neck, trying to pull him down and Geralt wants to let him, but there is so much left to do.
Unfortunately, with Jaskier around him constantly, very little actually gets done. Because Geralt has him now. He can just touch him whenever he wants, kiss him whenever he wants. And it's hard to do much else with that kind of temptation.
Inevitably, he gives in and after putting his swords away, he tugs off his boots and flops onto the bed behind Jaskier. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he tugs him down next to him. Jaskier shrugs out of his doublet and kicks off his own boots, shuffling closer to kiss him.
There's something odd about the way Jaskier fits against him, the same and yet somehow different. Better. Like he might actually belong there now. Geralt swallows back a lump in his throat and presses his nose into Jaskier's hair, inhaling the scent of him. It's calming, familiar, and he shut his eyes and holds him a little closer.
Geralt drifts off to the sound of Jaskier's breath, the soft huff of it against his neck. He thinks vaguely that bringing Jaskier with him is a terrible decision, but he can't imagine making a different one.