Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

Two Beds

The next morning came too quickly. Jaskier had not slept as well as he'd like to have, too long had been spent worrying. Sometime in the night, Geralt had turned to face the Bard, hair lifting and fall from his face as he breathed. Jaskier had tucked it behind his ear and watched his eyes flutter, terrified he'd wake up. And now that the sky was glowing with the first sight of the sun, he had to truly face what had happened. Geralt stirred, feeling sun on his face, and Jaskier determined to stay put this time.
"Morning sleepy head, time to face the day" He said, feigning his usual cheeriness. Geralt opened his eyes and glared.
"You're scared." He stated simply, laying on his back and looking up at the cracking ceiling.
"What- I dont-" there was no point in lying. "Well, you're not exactly an open book, it's hard to know how you'll react to anything."
"Your referring to last night." He grunted. "It didn't mean anything"
"Well you didn't seem to think that when you were balls deep in my ass, Witcher" Jaskier snapped, not taking his eyes off Geralt.
"I meant." He said carefully, realising Jaskier was angry or upset, or a mix of both. "That nothing will change. Here" He gestured between the two of them and Jaskier let out a breath. Its the best he could hope for, short of a proposal. He laughed to himself.
"Good." Jaskier sighed. "Then get your grumpy arse out of bed, we should be on the road."
"Are you... I mean, will you be-" He looked constipated and Jaskier guessed this was his attempt at caring.
"I'm not made of glass Geralt." Jaskier rolled his eyes and slid out of bed, not bothering to cover himself up this time, after all Geralt had seen it all last night. He wouldn't admit it, but his backside was really killing, even walking would be a pain, though riding would be worse so he was glad for once that he didn't have a horse.
"You can ride with me today... If you want." It was Geralts attempt at Humour.
"Fuck off." Jaskier mumbled, turning to look at his ass in the grubby mirror; it was red raw. He cursed to himself and set about getting dressed. 

They were on the road within the hour, and for a while nothing did seem to be different. Jaskier continued his road-side singing, keeping his wincing to a minimum, and Geralt rode stoically next to him, occasionally turning to point out something grumpily or to ask him to 'shut the fuck up'. Of course, he actually didn't mind the songs, but it was not good for his reputation to be smiling along with the stupid songs. When they reached the next inn however, things got trickier. Geralt asked - well, more of a command than a question - Jaskier to get rooms, but then as he reached the bar he began to wonder if Geralt had in fact asked for a room. He stood there for at least 10 minutes trying to remember, gold pouch in hand, inn-keep glaring impatiently at him.
"Do you have a room with two beds?" He asked finally, thinking it was a fair midpoint. 
"You think we're a barn? Of course I do." The man had grumbled, handing over a key and taking a good portion of the coin - not all Jaskier noted, so it was a cheaper option. That would be the excuse he would use if Geralt brought it up, he decided. 

Geralt followed Jaskier up the stairs, and up another, they were on the top floor. He rose an eyebrow at the two beds but said nothing, he supposed after what he'd said to the Bard it was no wonder he hadn't gotten one bed, beside they also had to keep up pretences. Or was it even a pretense, Geralt wondered. It's not like they were a couple, they had fucked once, and continued seemingly being friends, so he supposed there was nothing really to hide.
He hadn't been planning what had happened between them, he'd had a shitty day with the whole court situation, not to mention his fucking surprise child on the way, and he'd been seeking comfort in the only way he really knew.
It had been savage and messy, but he'd been lost in the feeling of Jaskier for a short while, and it had been truly something special. He rolled his shoulders at the memory of the Bard's nails in his skin, and shut his eyes, breathing hard.
Two beds. Jaskier got the idea. That's how it would stay.