[ CLOSED ] head down, hands up

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: April
Where: Cadens; Horizon; Aquila
What: Catch-all, including a road trip with the bestie
Warnings: Blanket for the usual where Witcher canon is concerned



(( starters in the comments below. find me at discontinued / Noa#1979 to plot stuff or if you want a starter. ))

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[gynvael]

[ The raise of his eyebrow is wry. ] Too well. Unfortunately.

[ It isn't often he lets himself relax. Here with Jaskier and an ocean breeze, he does so, allowing his mind to think of very little except the simplest, basest of things: the lock of hair in Jaskier's eyes that makes him want to flick it, the spark of heat in his friend's gaze.

Those long fingers. They wrap around his hand. He allows that, too.

A low sound greets that remark. He lifts the bottle back to his lips, a casual gesture. Jaskier is close enough he can feel the heat from his skin. ] Don't know what the fuck you mean.

[ Not at all. Except he obviously does, a fact he makes known when he tugs Jaskier in the rest of the way to kiss him. It is not teasing, and it is not coy. He just kisses him, much the same as he does everything else—because he wants to, because he can, because Jaskier will not deny him. He can smell it in the air, that human curl of desire. Radiates off of Jaskier in waves. ]

[cointosser]

Unfortunately, he says. I think you've been very fortunate indeed to learn what you have about me.

[Unless Geralt is speaking of the times they shared an inn room and returned from a bath or from a romp about chasing monsters to Jaskier with a new body in their bed. Or he's speaking of the Cintran banquet, where he had to chase off angry cuckolds before they cut off very delicate parts of Jaskier off. Or he's talking about that time Jaskier woke Geralt from the dead of sleep when he was having that very sexy dream a bit after Rinde --

Yes, some dreams do linger for years, thank you.]

Of course not.

[Jaskier already knows he's made his point. He's won. Not that Geralt is much of an opponent. He's easy. He's always been that way, despite all his grumbling and defensive walls.

Jaskier wraps his arms about his neck, pulling him down, close, to deepen it. Simply because they want to.] Let me show you what I mean, then. Since your memory is so frighteningly short.

[His hands unwrap, sinking beneath the water, now that he's thought of something much better to do with them.]

nsfw.

[gynvael]

[ Fortunate and unfortunate. Every sword has two edges. (Deep down, Geralt knows full well every time, he chose to be there for Jaskier. Because Jaskier asked.)

Hadn't realized there was anything to be won or lost, though. If Jaskier were to say it, Geralt would tell him they both seem to be winning here. He leans into the kiss, one hand resting on the small of Jaskier's back. His eyes fall shut for a moment. The smell of saltwater stirs in the breeze, and he can smell the sage and sandalwood on Jaskier, too.

It isn't quite right to say he missed this. He's always had it. Maybe more...that he especially fucking needs it now. ]

I could use a... [ Hm. Jaskier's hand wraps around him, warm and heavy. A curl of heat winds through him. ] Firm reminder.

[ A good use for those hands. ]

[cointosser]

[Jaskier laughs after they part, his cheeks already painted a pale pink now he's stroking the Witcher. Even sea water cannot cool a man's temper completely.]

Thank the gods you didn't say hand.

[A terrible cliché that would ruin the mood, of course. And the mood as it is is very pleasant: the bobbing waves, the sound of water cracking on rock, and the expansive sky overhead, wide and deep enough to suck them away to another world, as they already have been.

He kisses Geralt, running his thumb up the length of him. As easy, as natural, as breathing.] At least I needn't worry about sirens here.

[gynvael]

[ His lips curl upwards at the edges. The waves crash against the rocks. Under the moonlight, it's practically what Jaskier would call romantic.

Not that Geralt gives much thought to these matters.

He inhales deeply, breathes out against Jaskier's throat. The rhythm is one he is long familiar with. Jaskier knows what he likes and in return, he knows how Jaskier likes to do it, too. How he rolls his thumb and curls his palm and strokes. ]

As far as we know. [ He's only teasing. Doesn't appear to be sirens in these waters. Just the glowing blue crabs and the occasional fish. ]