Toss a Coin to Your Witcher (Completed)

Alone At Last

It was another long day's travel until they found the Barn. On the way they had passed through the only town within a days ride that had a reputable mage. He smiled, he asked for money upfront, and then he laid his wrinkly hands all over Jaskier. Geralt wasn't best pleased about this part.
"I'm just saying, he was handsy." The Witcher grumbled as he hopped off roach and held a hand up for Ciri. She refused the hand and jumped into the mud without aid, eyeing up the barn suspiciously.
"Jealous much? Besides, it's not like I enjoyed it." Jaskier grinned stupidly and slid gracefully off his own horse, patting it's neck affectionately. Ciri gave them both a weary look.
"Would you stop arguing like an old married couple."
"But we practically are." Jaskier pouted. Ciri smiled a little at this and then gave the barn a disgruntled jab of a finger.
"Do we have to stay here?"
"It's closer than any inn and it's free. Would you rather sleep in the woods?" Geralt said shortly but not without affection. Jaskier noticed he was often lighter on Ciri than he should be; it seemed he already had a soft spot for the girl. "You can sleep in the lofts, we'll stay downstairs." She nodded and Geralt tied the horses up for the night, soothing them and feeding them a handful of oats with a soft smile. Jaskier often wondered if his Witcher liked horses more than people.

"You know, that mage might have been creepy as fuck but he was good with his hands." Jaskier laughed, laying a blankets across two massive hay bales and sitting on it rubbing his leg in wonder. "Doesn't hurt at all."
Geralt's face was grave when he joined Jaskier on the makeshift bed of hay. "They were only after you because of me. Being with me put you in danger." Jaskier leaned back on his elbows and watched Geralt lay his swords down on floor and begin unbuckling his armour.
"Yeah well, that's not going to change anytime soon." The bard laughed, smacking Geralt's hands away and deftly undoing the armour as he had done a thousand times before.
"How can you be so light about this Jas? You could have died." Geralt had been so looking forward to being alone with Jaskier, but now he found himself growing more irate by the moment, not quite understanding why. He never wanted to feel like he had when he thought Jaskier was dead ever again.
"But I didn't. Only thing that got killed was my lute." Jaskier seemed a little downtrodden about his instrument, but Geralt had already made a resolution to buy him the nicest one he could find. "In fact I handled myself perfectly fine even without your help, not that I don't need you."
"Maybe you don't." Geralt found his face heating up at the thought of Jaskier not needing him and he realised he was snapping. "Maybe you should go your own way for a while, see how you do then!" He stood from the 'bed' and shucked his armour onto the floor, turning away from Jaskier before he could see how irrationally angry he was.
"Why are you throwing a hissy fit? I had no choice but to look after myself." Jaskier came around to the front of Geralt to prod a finger into his chest. "YOU left ME."
Geralt's anger got the better of him and he slammed the Bard back into the wooden column and stood over him with a scowl that would make most men whimper. Jaskier only rose an eyebrow.  "I didn't have a choice either, Ciri-"
"Yes I know all about your child surprise. Is this how it's going to be now that she's around? You always leaving me behind?!" Jaskier was red in the face, a rare look of real anger flashed over his features and Geralt could feel the heat coming off him through the few layers they wore- they'd both stripped down to their slacks and shirts to sleep. Geralt wasn't used to being confronted with an angry Jaskier, his natural reaction was to up the anti in the hopes of winning. His hand shot out and gripped the Bard's throat, pinning him back against the column. Jaskier's hands clentched into fists at his side, his head tipped back on the wood and his breath hitched. Geralt didn't think this through.
"Jokes on you, I'm into this shit." Jaskier grinned, his fists unclenched at he cupped one firmly and almost threateningly around Geralt's crotch with a glare that dared the Witcher to make a move. Geralt felt the familiar heat of desire curling in his gut along with the anger that was buried there.