Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

White Wolf

Jaskier woke with a light head, a spreading cosy feeling in his chest and a warm arm thrown over him. He looked down his chest to where a pale hand rested on his stomach, and then he looked behind him at the sleeping Witcher. He smiled like a tiny, excitable child and turned over to watch his 'friend' sleep. He had thought about bringing up the whole 'what are we' thing, but he didn't think his Witcher would react well, so he left it unspoken.
"I can feel you watching me." Geralt grumbled, voice thick with sleep. He didn't open his eyes however, just did one of those cocky half-smiles that made Jaskier's heart do flip-flops in his chest. "I'm going to Kaer Morhen. It will be a week's journey and winter by the time I get there."
For a moment Jaskier's frantically beating heart froze and he tried to force his face to remain neutral and his voice unaffected. "On your own?"
"Usually that would be the idea..." Geralt opened his eyes and they locked with Jaskier's, perhaps seeing the sorrow in them. "But, I expect you'll tag along. It's hard to get rid of you these days." He turned onto his back, so the Bard couldn't read his face very well, but he knew the tone of voice was as light as it got. He was joking.
"Damn right. What's- i mean, what is so special about this place? You never tell me." Jaskier tucked an arm under his head and watched the Witcher with curious eyes.
"It's my home. Where i was trained to be a Witcher along with all my brothers. My tutor, Vesemir, lives there all year round but the rest of us only go in the winter. They probably won't like you being there."
"I'm used to not being wanted." Jaskier shrugged, genuinely not too concerned. "This Vesemir, he sounds important to you. Like a father maybe?" He inquired, the Witcher grunted what Jaskier suspected to mean 'yeah' and pulled the sheets away, sitting up. Jaskier watched him cross the room and didn't hide his staring. You could bounce a farthing off that ass. Jaskier bit his lip and tried to ignore the tenting in his breeches. It was not the time, not after what Geralt had told him. It was as emotional at the Witcher was ever going to get, he thought, and he wasn't going to ruin that with his horniness.

They headed downstairs together, an odd pair; Jaskier with his noble clothes, huge grin and lute tied in his arms, and Geralt all dark and brooding with swords shining on his back. They were at the door when the man with the death wish spoke up. It was more of a yell really.
"Oh, the Witcher and his precious Bard - not so scary once you've heard him taking it up the ass. Must be pretty desperate to let that dandy stick his tiny prick where he wants, maybe the women are giving him a hard time." Jaskier saw Geralt tense up immediately, though which part had bothered him most the Bard couldn't tell.
"Geralt, just leave it, honestly he's not worth it." Jaskier muttered, but the man in the back heard.
"Yes, head the call of your master, white wolf." Now Jaskier new there was no hope. He turned around with a look of 'shit man, you've done it now' and stepped out of the way as Geralt shut the door and turned around himself. The Bard took a moment just to admire the sheer terrifying beauty that was Geralt of Riva when he was pissed, and then leant back against a wooden beam and crossed his arms. The inn was mostly empty, only the man with the venomous tongue and his motley band of rogues.
"You don't seem to have your facts in order." Geralt said as though about to teach a lesson to an insolent child. He unsheathed his iron sword and twirled it expertly, not taking his eyes off his enemy as he said; "You see, the Bard was actually sucking me off, and his rather impressive cock had no involvement in our activities." The man glanced over at Jaskier who blew him a kiss, trying not to focus too much on what Geralt had said - not only did he have no shame, but he'd even complimented Jaskier in the middle of his hilarious tirade. He felt he should be more concerned about Geralt sharing their 'activities' with the inn, but he felt oddly flattered, and he'd never been ashamed to be himself.
"And I've had more women in a week than you have in a year, I assure you, but real men know when it's time to stop sticking it in anything that moves at find one that will stick around." He had reached the table now and Jaskier grinned to himself as the men all cowered back. Geralt raised the blade to the throat of the man who'd started this and looked down at him with plain disgust. "No man, Woman or otherwise is my Master." His blade dropped to the man's lap and he tried desperately to squirm away from it.
"Jaskier." The bard perked up, straightening the strap of his lute. "Go to Roach, I won't be a minute." Jaskier pulled a face but sighed and did as he was told. Geralt leaned closer to the arsehole who'd called his Bard a Dandy, grabbing him by the front of the shirt.
"If I see your face again, I will make sure you can never please a woman again." He snarled, slamming the man's face into the table just for good measure.