Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

Enough for Two

Jaskier slowly lowered himself onto the bench opposite Geralt, ale in hand. He avoided looking at his friend, out of embarrassment mainly, but  Geralt was expressionless as per usual. And there was a part of him that liked the pain, like it was a reminder of what would probably never happen again but had made him feel so alive he'd never forget. 
A busty barmaid swept over with a second round of drinks after we'd polished off our food, and though Geralt barely spared her a glance, Jaskier found myself winking at her. There was a sharp kick under the table, he held in a cry and waited for her to leave.
"Fuck!" He finally let out, rubbing at his shin and staring at Geralt. "What was that-"
"Flirting." He ground out, as though it pained him to say it.
"I thought nothing was changing... between us?" The bard lowered his voice and leant forward under the pretext of staring into his ale tankard longingly. Geralt looked genuinely lost for a moment then he grunted in agreement and left the table without a word. "Fucking Witcher." He mumbled as he too stood from the table and followed after his friend. By the time he reached the room and shut the door behind him, Geralt was already shirtless and twisting around to look in the Mirror at his back. He ran his fingers wonderingly over the scratches left there by Jaskier, just as the Bard stepped into view. He guessed Geralt had heard him already, but hadn't cared.
"Yeah... sorry about that." He scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, but Geralt didn't look angry he looked- well, almost... wistful. If that was possible.
"I wouldn't have thought you had it in you." He grumbled, still not looking at the Bard. 
"Well we both did our fair share of damage." Jaskier said, feeling a twang in his back as if to prove a point. Geralt turned to him.
"I didn't like seeing you flirt with that woman." He stated without preamble.
"I wasn't going to do anything about it." Jaskier said, though why he felt the need to, He didn't know. Geralt and he were meant to be back to usual.
"Good."
"Why?" the Bard asked. He knew he was pushing my luck. It was one thing to ask Geralt to open up, but another thing entirely to question him openly. And of course, he didn't get a real answer, only a suggestion of one. Geralt turned from the mirror and walked over to me, his huge frame filling Jaskier's vision, chest on display like the trophy he was. He grabbed Jaskier's chin tight in his huge hands and forced it up so their faces met. It was a possessive, hard kiss, but what it meant was a little more soft; it meant he wanted Jaskier to himself. And the fact he was showing that was an improvement for him. 
It didn't stop there however, the Witcher's tongue pried Jaskier's lips open and explored his mouth, mixing the taste of ale with one of desire. The bards hands instinctively grasped at the back of Geralt's neck, but the Witcher moved them to his backside instead with a smirk, wrapping his own arms around Jaskier's waist and clasping his hands together in the small of his back. The bard realised the kiss wasn't going any further - he wasn't sure he could do it again so soon and still be able to stand - and allowed himself to relax a little and kneed at Geralt's tight ass and smile into the kiss.
Geralt seemed content too, just to hold Jaskier close and enjoy the taste of him on his own tongue. When he decided it was time to stop, before Jaskier got any ideas that he was some sort of romantic - rather than the truth that he simply didn't have the energy for another round like last night's - he pulled away and detached his grip on the Bard. Jaskier was more reluctant, but he knew just how to fix that; he slapped the Bards ass just hard enough to sting but not hard enough to leave a mark, and watched him turned red faced.
"Fuck you." He whined, rubbing his ass, but there was the usual Jaskier smile under it. Geralt hadn't realised how much he needed this unending source of stupid glee and childishness, he was happy enough for the both of them, and Geralt was dangerous and stoic enough for two. Somehow, the partnership worked.