the kiss speaks volumes where Geralt cannot . spills a tide of emotions as his fingers tighten into dark strands of hair , and it takes the very air from his lungs until they’re screaming and he has to gasp for it when their lips break apart . even then , he can feel how the bard’s lips move against his own with words , refusing to draw away , and his other arm tightens around a more slim waist .
“ I’m working on it . ” he barely chokes the words out , fingers tightening a moment . he draws in a breath , shaking just slightly with the effort of what’s happening . with emotions he can barely contain , and he presses one more kiss until his arms both wrap and he picks Jaskier up . he doesn’t think about it , he only does . he picks the bard up , carrying him out of the cell and out of the jail itself .
they meet no resistance , because he’s already taken everyone out . the most there is is a groan here and there of a guard that’s slowly coming to with bloodied faces , but even then , the witcher carries his bard past them with a hammering heart . out the jail , down the alley . through streets . he winds through alleys until he gets them both out of the city .
slowly , he sets the bard down , swallowing audibly as his fingers curl into the fabric the man is wearing , and he looks at him . stares almost , as if trying to absorb the fact he has him again . six months feels like six centuries , and he has raw and aching wounds internally that have never healed . if he were capable of crying , perhaps he would be right now .
“ I told you … our destinies would always be intertwined . ” he never told him . never told him about the wish with the djinn that he had uttered , and he breathes out shakily , mouth dry . again , he wants to kiss him , wants to touch . but he suddenly finds himself very hesitant .
what wretch such as himself deserves to touch that which he nearly destroyed ?
his gaze softens , and he feels a lump in his throat , an ache in his chest . “ … I’m so sorry . ”
The kiss stuns him. Unexpected in every way, gray eyes stare up at gold ones full of confusion and wonder. Frustration. There’s a building frustration that lingers in that stare. Months of hell and a kiss is supposed to be greeted with what exactly? But underneath all of that? For the time being? Is the common sense that he isn’t sure how much strength he’s got and if they are going to get the hell out of here? He needs to swallow any other emotion away until they have some distance between this hellhole and wherever they’re about to end up.
Of course he doesn’t plan on gravity shifting as suddenly as it does. And as he’s hoisted up and carried off, he shoots the view behind him a glare spitting on the ground as they trudge through guards strewn on the ground. More than once, he grumbles that he can be sat down. His protests fall on deaf ears until they are out of the city proper and once his heels touch the soft earth.
“Thank you.” He steadies himself with a staggering sway that has him pushing some longer hair out of his eyes defiantly as if that motion alone might fetch some dignity back from where it’d just been carried, literally, off to.
“You told me a lot of things,” his words are rushed and jammed together--a ghost of a tone from years ago all jumbled and too quick for a breath to be spoken between them, “I’m not sure which ones stayed on top of that mountain and which ones came tumbling right down along with me once I came to my senses and realized that you weren’t coming back.” A hint. He stayed. Waiting. For any sign that Geralt would come back, that they’d fix what was said. That what happened wasn’t going to stick.
Longer than he’d care to admit to anyone. Especially present company.
“Destines?! Sorry?” His stomach twists in knots with that look and his gaze softens. One beat. Another beat. Oh he catches himself and he’s slipping and it’s pop off time! His heel stomps and digs into the wet earth. OH THAT IS SO FUCKING FUCK!?! This bastard!
“You,” a pointer finger juts out as the rest curl towards his palm and he points it sternly towards the taller man, “Don’t get to look at me with those sad, big, dumb, FRUSTRATING eyes and say you’re sorry and expect me to just---forget what that felt like. How much that hurt. I waited for you like I promised I always would and where did your promises go? Right off the edge of a cliff!”