Geralt POV
Geralt awoke suddenly, giving a small start, his eyes opening in a room that wasn't as dark as the one he had fallen asleep in. There was a weight across him. Geralt prided himself in being able to fall asleep and stay asleep without moving, but evidently, he had ploughed sideways during the night. He legs hadn't moved much, and his waist was awkwardly twisted and bent, and he was lying sideways across the couch, partly on his back and partly on his side.
The weight on him, he realized, was Jaskier. The man was still asleep, head against Geralt's stomach. Geralt had thought he felt Jaskier press against his chest and figured their positions must have slipped when they fell over. Could have been more awkward, he supposed. Jaskier, to his utter unsurprise, was cuddly while asleep, not just awake.
Geralt didn't know how he was going to free himself. He was trapped between Jaskier and the couch. Geralt managed to work his way up so that he was leaning on one elbow. He looked to the door. It was closed and didn't look as if it had been opened recently. As best he could, Geralt scanned the apartment. When he had looked around at as much as he could see and found it satisfactory, he closed his eyes again and listened, feeling for any presence that was nearby.
His developed sixth sense didn't tip him off, and so he allowed himself half an exhale, and shifted again so he was lying back down. It was uncomfortable, this position, and he was fairly certain his arm would be going numb soon, but he owed it to Jaskier.
He shouldn't have fallen asleep. No matter how tired he was, after Renfri and the night before, sleep had just not been an option. Anything could have happened, either to Jaskier or to him, and Geralt wouldn't have been ready. He wasn't okay with that. He was trained to be a bodyguard, he should be acting like one, rather than letting physical needs get the better of him.
He had a client who was in a vulnerable position, even more so the previous night, and he had allowed himself to doze off. Geralt growled softly at himself and rose again. He looked to his legs, wondering how to free them without waking Jaskier. A look at the clock had told him it was nearly 09:40, which explained the summer light streaming in through the windows and illuminating the dust particles.
Julian POV
Jaskier cuddled into Geralts stomach, nuzzling into it occasionally when he felt a movement. He was sleeping peacefully for once, the first time in months probably. He had his hand gently placed on Geralts thigh, up close by his face as it was one of the more comfortable ways to sleep for him.
Jaskier felt a movement under him as Geralt moved, sitting back up which resulted in a king Jaksier produce a small whine of protest before he opened his eyes sluggishly and looked at what he was on. A shirt... Attached to a body?
He opened his eyes wider, unsure of what was happening before he let out a content sigh, realizing it was just Geralt. Geralt. His mind recalled every event that had happened and he hummed a little in acceptance before he looked up and met the eyes of Geralt and smiled sluggishly at him. "Good morning" he muttered out with his voice deep and raspy, unlike his usually higher and cheery voice.
He sat up, groaning a little at the pain in his hip for sleeping at such an awkward angle. He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up slightly as he blinked a couple of times to adjust his eyesight. He was greeted as soon as he moved his gaze to the clock, with the beam of light and made a face of 'oh gods why' and screwed his eyes closed before opening them again, they were watering from the sudden light. He peered over at the clock. Holy shit they had slept late. They were up past the middle of the night though so it only made sense.
Jaskier looked to Geralt again and hummed as he went to stand, hissing at his foot as he remembered that he had hurt it. He sighed, fucks sake he hated it already and it's been less than 24 hours. He looked over to his look and smiled at it fondly.
He decided it might be best just to sit and stay there like he originally planned to... He looked to Geralt with a small sheepish smile. "Did you sleep okay?" he asked lightly, gently placing a hand on Geralt's thigh with the smile aimed at him, voice unforgivingly deep for him.
Geralt POV
"Alright," Geralt muttered, swinging his legs around to get off the ouch, careful to not accidentally kick Jaskier as he did so. Geralt stood, the events of the previous night returning as he awoke fully.
The shame he felt deepened and he looked away from Jaskier, choosing to examine the kitchen floor where the Crystal glass had shattered instead. He couldn't see any more shards of crystal, but the floor was in fact interesting. He'd never noticed the slight patterns in the lino before, and how they differed square to square.
Jaskier's hand on his thigh was new. His knees had been touched the night before after Geralt had done the same. Thighs felt a bit personal. But perhaps he was reading too much into it. Yes, that was it. Jaskier had fallen asleep on top of him, this was just a friendly gesture. Between a client and his bodyguard, but it was the thought that counted.
Geralt slowly got to his feet and stretched, one arm after the other. He looked to Jaskier, who was sitting after his failed attempt at standing. Geralt's eyes went to the cause on the man's foot. It was still wrapped, which was a relief. In the dark and the panic of the previous night, Geralt hadn't gotten a good enough look to tell if this gash needed stitches as well. If it had, they hadn't been in a great position to do them.
He just had to hope pressure and compression had worked well enough while they slept. Geralt brought his eyes back to Jaskier's face, subconsciously unfocusing them as he reached behind his head. He took hold of the leather tie holding his hair and tugged it out, letting the tangled white strands fall to his shoulders again. He shook them out and went to retie them.
Julian POV
Jaskier smiled as he saw Geralt look at him, something was wrong, he seemed stiff. Stiffer than usual, that is. Jaskier went to say something but as soon as he noticed Geralt reach behind his own head he frowned a bit wondering what he was doing before he watched as the hair came down and framed his face.
Jaskier was stunned, lips parted and eyes slightly widened. He didn't think that the man could get any more physically attractive, which anyone in their right mind knew he was. "Beautiful." he had let it slip, it was in a soft voice, almost a breathy one as he snapped out of it and cleared his throat.
Jaskier looked at Geralt with a small smile before it faded, his eyes going to the counter as he shivered. "We should um, call the authorities for that there. I can't fully remember what it was due to panic but I take it I wouldn't want to remember it."
Jaskier stood up off the couch, now that he was more awake he could tolerate some of the actual pain in his foot and find some balance. He tested walking on it slightly and hissed under his breath.
"Lord knows I need a shower now. Can I get that wet? Do you need to take a slash?" he asked Geralt as he pointed to his foot and then the bathroom, it's normal for the body to want to do a first pee of the day so he thought he'd ask.
His foot was just cut but, he wasn't the one who knew first aid or more and by the looks of how neatly Geralt managed to bandage it, he'd say the man had some experience in it.
Geralt POV
Geralt frowned at Jaskier's breathless comment, and slowly returned his hands to his hair. He gathered the top half of the white strands, which felt rather greasy under his fingers and tied them back with the leather cord.
"Do they know of your previous attack by these people?" If this was already being looked into, then there were likely records of who had been in charge of getting ahold of the bodyguard from Viper and the men she had worked with. Jaskier or his manager would have contacted the authorities already, wouldn't they?
He didn't see this as something ignorable, though he admitted the sad truth of it if only to himself, that there may not have been a report filed. In fact, it was more likely that there hadn't been. But Jaskier was from a wealthy family and had some fame of his own, so there was a chance. Those factors might have pushed at least somebody into action.
He looked down to Jaskier's foot, wary, then back at the man's face. "You can shower." He was careful to keep his voice even and neutral. The situation with the razors could be resolved, hopefully peacefully. Geralt had made several mistakes yesterday, that was just one more drop in the bucket. "I'll go after you."
Julian POV
Jaskier frowned a bit as he looked at Geralt "I-I don't actually know. I don't know what they did. But I know that it wasn't announced anywhere on the news or anything like they would with any other person." he explained a little with a frown, it was frustrating to even think of it. "They probably didn't even bother seeming the people were just told not to come near me again," he explained as he shivered a little bit.
He shook the thought out of his head as he looked to Geralt. "I'm going to shower. Lord knows I need one. The stress is getting to me." he said with his voice a little sharper than usual. It was digging his fucking head in. The police here were shit. That was a fact, everyone knew that. He remembers one nice detective lady who offered to try to help him get a restraining order on the men and the bodyguard but that was brushed over and denied. Said they had more important matters to attend to. Jaskier turned and headed straight for the bathroom.
Jaskier eventually made it to the bathroom, hobbling there, hopping a few times to see if that worked better in which it didn't. It just hurt either way. He walked in, undid his laces on his pants and quickly used the bathroom as needed. He quickly finished up, flushing, washing his hands and then going to turn the shower on to warm it up.
Yes, he was about to take a shower and he washed his hands, he liked to be extra clean, not just go ahead and touch everything with his hands covered in bacteria. He shivered lightly at the thought, just no. Especially seeming he was now sharing the place and facilities.
Jaskier brought a hand to his chin and scratched it lightly, the stubble annoying him. He'd have to deal with that once he got out of the shower. He stripped down fast, discarding of his clothing quickly before testing the water with the back of his hand, hopping inside of it happily. He didn't lock the door, he felt no need to.
He washed his hair and face once again, his make up was all smudged and messy. How Geralt didn't look at him like he was a human-sized raccoon confused him but he didn't bother to ponder it too hard. Green apple and cinnamon again today. He used hot water, ensuring that it would steam the place and bring a nice scent to the air made him smile some more as he washed at his thick brown locks of wavy mess on his head.
He turned the shower off, carefully stepping out before he picked up his small bowl and mixer for his shaving whip to be made, grabbed the product, a citrus and apple-scented one. He really did love scents. He placed it up on the part next to the sink before he looked around, frowning lightly. He was missing his razor. It was a silver one, engravings on the side and it flipped out the blade. It was given to him as a gift by the man who had taught him how to play the lute before he passed away.
He got told to use it when he was old enough. He was so young when he knew that man back in London, he was like his father. Jaskier was panicking before he felt a bit of anger strike at him. All the blades were missing, not just that one. He didn't mean to and tried to breathe properly as he opened the door and called out.
"Geralt ! Where the fuck are my blades!" he yelled out, his tone not bothering to hide that he was in fact, severely angered. The anger mainly thrived on fear of it being lost or broken of some sort and he hadn't had it lost until Geralt came here.
So he must have some idea. It was uncharacteristic of him to get so angered so easily, but it was important to him. He was still dripping wet when he opened the door and stood in the hallway looking out into the living room with a frown on his brow. One of panic and anger and a whole lot of confusion.
Geralt POV
Geralt felt the dread rise in him slowly as Jaskier talked. When he watched the man hobble and hop towards the bathroom, he had to close his eyes and turn away. Geralt's slow heartbeat was uncomfortably loud in his ears. Any minute now. If he had been a praying man, he might have prayed for a conflictless solution.
As it was, he settled for remaining to stand and crossing his arms over his chest. He faced the wall the apartment door was on, not looking at the door, but it remained in his peripheral vision. He felt the guilt and dread twist tighter in him as he heard the shower water turn on. Geralt closed his eyes and took himself through several deep breaths.
He shouldn't be getting so worked up and tense over this. It was just razors and some blades. He had them safely tucked away, altogether. They could be easily returned. Calmer now, he opened his eyes again.
The familiar dread rose again as he heard the shower water stop. He caught himself wishing he was back on the rooftops with Renfri, getting shot at as they ran. Geralt growled and shoved those thoughts away. That was then, and this was now. He needed to stay focused. There was some clattering from the bathroom.
Geralt allowed himself one more deep breath before he heard the shout of his name. In Jaskier's voice, the anger seemed so out of character. He heard the bathroom door swung open and the man steps out onto the carpeted floor of the hallway, still dripping.
Geralt turned at a reasonable pace to face him, hands spread calmly and passively in front of him. Despite the fact that there was a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and Jaskier closely resembled a half-drowned rat, Geralt felt no desire to mess with him.
"Jaskier," he said, mindful of his tone. He kept it even. He would not be the aggressor here. "Let me explain." He knew he would be cut off as he reached for the words he had silently been preparing since he took the blades, but he had to try. This wasn't going to go as smoothly as he had hoped, he could see that much. He didn't know what he had been thinking upon taking the razors. Perhaps he hadn't been.
Julian POV
Jaskier saw Geralt, let him explain he said. Jaskier growled, he didn't care about anything the man said right now. He stormed up, the best he could, ignoring the pain in his foot which honestly only helped fuel his anger at the moment. He walked right up to Geralt and daringly enough, he pushed the man, pounding onto his chest.
If he stayed up, Jaskier would pound on him from there. If he fell down, Jaskier would get on his knees in-between Geralts legs and punch into his chest from down there. He didn't care, he needed it back. His punches were weak, they weren't actual punches. Well, the first two or three may have been.
"Fucks sake Geralt! That shit isn't yours then don't fucking touch it! Didn't your mother teach you any fucking manners! Give me it back now! Fuck the other blades by my shaving engraved one, give it back! Give it back!" He was looking directly at Geralt, he had tears streaming down his face in fear that Geralt may have done something stupid with it, gotten rid of it or even worse, stolen it and sold it.
His mind went to the worst possible scenarios as he choked and started to sob. He didn't think about the cruel words that came out of his mouth, he had no right to talk about his mother or even mention her. His punches grew weaker as he ended up only lightly smacking his chest as if he were waking a fly away. His head how bowed before he leaned it onto Geralts chest with a defeated sob escaping his throat.
"Please, Please tell me you still have it Geralt, Please." He started to sob uncontrollably as he felt his hands shaking from the fear of him no longer having it.
Geralt POV
Geralt stood there. Stood there and took it, let the words go over him. Felt the words with bitter humour. He had to suppress the sudden urge to laugh. Of course, his mother had never taught him better. He had been raised by the Corps.
They had been the ones to teach him such things. He didn't remember much about his mother, beyond her smile and the way that she had left him behind one day. Told him to fetch a bucket of water and left, leaving him for Vesemir to find. He barely felt Jaskier's blows, even from the start. He didn't back down. Didn't even quake. He just let Jaskier's anger run its course.
He kept his eyes open, fixed on Jaskier's tear-filled blue ones that were unseen in his anger. He let Jaskier pound against his chest then sob and weaken his punches until Geralt hardly felt them anymore. He wanted to catch Jaskier's wrists and force the man to stop, to hold him still, to calm Jaskier's anger, but he knew the gesture would be unwanted. It wouldn't be well received, and right now, Geralt didn't need to get further onto Jaskier's bad side.
It was painful enough as it was. He hadn't expected this anger, this rage from the man who he had held and comforted, the man whose soft and sad music he had listened to. Was it only hours previously he had done such things? They say the morning brings a new side of lovers. Clients didn't seem to be much different. That had only been the first day. People were usually kind to him on the first day. Perhaps these were Jaskier's true colours showing. Geralt hoped not, but it wasn't as if he had the information to tell.
"I still have it," Geralt murmured to Jaskier. "I still have all of them. I only moved them." He carefully took a step back, the backs of his knees nearly hitting the couch. "Give me a minute and I'll get them." He slowly moved around Jaskier, keeping his hands in the air and level with his shoulders, trying to show he was no threat.
Never turning his back to Jaskier, Geralt retreated to the hallway. Once he felt the carpet under his feet, he felt safe enough (safe, gods, and he had thought he was the threat here, not Jaskier) to turn back around. He's back to the man, Geralt reached for the handle to the room he staying in. He closed the door most of the way behind him, more out of habit than anything else.
He crossed to his duffel bag, which was still sitting harmlessly on the rug. He felt the outside pocket where he had stashed the razors. He made out their edges and the rough shape of them then reached for the zipper of the pocket. Geralt unzipped it slowly, and reached in at the same speed, sliding his fingers against the fabric as to not cut himself. His hand closed around the handles of the razors and he took them out. He opened the plastic bag he had stuck them in and took off the rubber band. He set the one with the engraved handle aside, the one Jaskier had begged to see returned. Geralt tied the others back together and stuck them in the plastic bag. He took bag and razor handle in one hand and zipped the pocket of his duffel bag with the other.
He rose to his feet, feeling oddly shaky. He didn't know why. Geralt went back out into the hallway, shutting the door of the bedroom behind him properly this time. He padded back down the hall to Jaskier. He switched the engraved razor to his other hand and held out the bag and handle to the man, an apology on his lips.
"I'm sorry." He couldn't promise it wouldn't happen again. Geralt had to trust in his own judgement. But he had jumped to conclusions the day before, and that was what had brought them here. That, he was sorry about. He was sorry he had hurt Jaskier, that he had taken something of value from the man. But he didn't regret it. It had seemed a necessary precaution, and still somewhat did. Geralt would just have to work something else out, and with Jaskier this time, instead of alone. He drew breath, realizing that two words likely wasn't enough.
"I was.. scared." That was the word. Not something he could easily admit to, but he had been taught to admit to his mistakes, something he had found crucial in his particular line of work. Fear often led to mistakes. "
I came to conclusions without evidence, and I shouldn't have." But he had been so worried. So scared of finding Jaskier dead one morning, having killed himself in the night. He had seen the scars on Yennefer's wrists. He knew she still felt the same at times. He couldn't let that happen to anyone else.
Unsure of what to do next, Geralt remained standing. He kept his arms hanging loosely by his sides. He would have been more comfortable crossing them, but that radiated too much aggression and confidence, neither of which he wanted to give off right now. Clasping his hands behind his back would have been his second pick, but it seemed too formal, though at times he felt a bit childish while doing it. "So I'm sorry," he said again. "You have my apologies for this incident."
Julian POV
Jaskier paused as soon as he heard the man still had his razor. He watched as Geralt had his hands up and moved to the bedroom.
Jaskier then had realize what he had said. He insulted his mother so effortlessly and he didn't know anything about her. What the hell was he thinking? He looked at his hands as he waited for Geralt to come back out to him in the living room. They were shaking, of course, they were he was so riled up. How did Geralt feel? Was he okay? Jaskier's mind flickered back to his father back in London. How he was treated, yelled at, screamed at much like how Jaksier had just risen his voice at Geralt.
He remembered it. Started to feel it. When he was standing, unknowing what to do as a six-year-old boy. His father had stuck him down to the ground via an unkind punch which smashed in his nose and jaw. He played on the ground, kicked repetitively as he tried to breathe but his father stomped on his ribs every time, usually breaking them when he struggled to breathe. He had punched Geralt in the chest, even though it felt like nothing to Geralt because of his muscles, he still did it. He still did the action.
His head raised up a little as he noticed Geralt coming back into the room. He stared at the blade before staring at Geralt. His rage had faded, completely vanished as he watched Geralt walk towards him. He was silent, standing, creating a puddle at his feet as the towel clung to him due to it soaking from the water that dripped down Jaskier.
Geralt just apologised. Why? Jaskier was the one who acted harshly, unjust. He could've just asked Geralt where they were instead of being such an ass hole about it, instead of being so much like his fucking father.
His facial expression was one of sadness. He was so over this roller coaster of emotions that he was putting Geralt through. He was sorry for the poor man, a hit was just smacked and hurt by his client. By Jaskier. If he wasn't hurt physically he just hoped he didn't hurt him mentally or emotionally.
Jaskier listened intently to Geralt as he stared at the blade in which was behind handed to him. He looked at it and back to Geralt. He acted irrationally, like a fool and now Geralt had his walls up. He took the bag and engraved razor, placing them to the side after he stared at the razor for a moment, fresh tears coming out of his eyes. He did it to protect him in case of anything. He wasn't wrong, Jaskier would have tried to of done something with the blades if he could. He remembers back to the kitchen the first moment he stepped foot into the house again, he wanted to use a knife.
He let an airy silence come over them for a moment before he stood back from the blades that he placed on the kitchen island. He turned to Geralt. A guilty expression crossed his face as he walked to Geralt and instantly wrapped his arms around the man's waist, letting his forehead rest onto his shoulder as he sniffed, composing himself.
"I'm sorry Geralt. I'm sorry. You had every right to take them away from me, it's good you did actually. When I have my PTSD attacks it's my main option I see. I have scars, I used to use makeup to cover them. And oils to try to make them disappear, they're faint now but thankfully they're nearly gone. Shit, I'm sorry." he said as he lifted his face up out of Geralts neck and looked at him.
"I didn't mean to be so cruel, I acted as my father did. I-I didn't know how else to react instantly when I was terrified. The- The blade it's from the same man who gave me my lute. He was like my father. I ran to him when I was a kid and my father was abusing us, he was like my dad and when he died and I could no longer see him, he told me to keep it in his memory and use it when I get old enough. I-I'm sorry I got so distraught I didn't know what to do. Geralt please forgive me, I am sorry. I know an apology doesn't do much when it's just words but I'm sorry." he spoke fast, stuttering and tripping over his own words.
It's true, his scars were faint, they were nearly gone. They ran upwards on his inner forearms. His father used to have a saying. Across the street for attention, down the street for results. Jaskier used to grab whatever he could and slice up his arm to try and fix things. It's taken years to get them to fade and they were still noticeable when looked at. It was why he wore long-sleeved shirts when on lives.
Geralt POV
Geralt stared numbly as Jaskier spoke, tripping over the words through his tears. He wrapped his arms around the man, clenching his teeth and bowing his head some. No one deserved to go through that. No matter who they were. He was grateful Jaskier had found an escape and someone kinder. Was glad the man was now out of his home country, hidden away here in the States. No one deserved the abuse.
When Jaskier apologized, Geralt felt his heart try to tear in two. Not much, but it was more than he had felt towards someone who wasn't Yennefer, Ciri, or Renfri in a long time. He had been taught to bury his emotions so deeply they never had cause to see the light of day.
But this... Training didn't take into account the fact that one day, the people who went through it might have a body pressed against them, a broken mind with it that needed words, needed them to feel something. Geralt reached for the words, unsure do what to say. How do you respond to a confession like that?
"You're forgiven," he murmured, meaning the words. Geralt took a shaky breath, bringing his hands up over Jaskier's to grip the man's shoulders. Gods. "Jaskier, I forgive you." No wonder Jaskier had panicked so when he found the trinket his beloved father figure had given to him missing. No wonder he had lashed out. It had stung, but not badly. Jaskier had had a reason. Geralt didn't have to like what the man had done, and he would expect him to improve on it, but finding forgiveness for Jaskier was easy.
He trailed one hand up from where it rested on Jaskier's shoulder to the back of the man's neck, resting their foreheads together. Geralt was the taller one, but not by too much. He kept his eyes open, amber watching blue. He pushed down the ridiculous urge to apologise again.
Julian POV
Jaskier's eyes lit up a little as he heard Geralt say that he forgave him. Geralt had said it twice, that, that was new. He must've meant it if a man like him who stuck with what he said once he said it, turned around and said it twice.
Jaskier found a small smile creeping at his lips, a ghost of one but it was still there. He allowed Geralt to move his hand from his shoulder up to his neck and a proper smile came on his face as he felt their foreheads touch. Jaskier raised one hand between their bodies, resting a hand on Geralt's chest on his left side, once again where his heartbeat lay. He trailed his had slightly down, noticing the feeling of Geralt's muscles underneath as Jaksier thought that Geralt could be used as a cheese grater. He chuckled lightly at his own joke before moving his hand back over Geralt's heartbeat.
His other hand moved up, cupping Geralt's cheek softly as he stroked it with his thumb, looking into the other man's eyes. He was swimming in them, those gorgeous Amber eyes that filled his soul with so much emotion. The relief was flashing in his own eyes before the emotion of admiration and love, pure love was directed at Geralt.
Jaskier could feel Geralt's breath on his lips and he tried his best to ignore it but his eyes started closing and he started to lean in. He diverted his path which was going to Geralts lips, to Geralts jaw to the side of Geralt's lips. This resulted in Jaskier accidentally catching the corner of their mouths but the main kiss was towards Geralt's jaw thankfully.
He trailed the kisses down to Geralt's chin with a humm before allowing their foreheads to rest together. "Forgive me," he whispered one last time as his eyes opened and he looked into Amber ones. He felt drunk, intoxicated, high and... He could not bring himself to confess the last part.
Geralt POV
Geralt gently stroked the back of Jaskier's neck, thumb running through the freshly washed hair just above it. He saw Jaskier's eyes shut as he leaned in, and Geralt tensed slightly. He didn't mind the platonic kissing, though perhaps it wasn't his favourite. But so soon? After the awkwardness of the previous time? If Jaskier was certain, then Geralt was okay with it.
But to Geralt's somewhat shock and to his great annoyance, /disappointment/, Jaskier diverted so that only the corners of their mouths met. Not that Geralt minded. Or had harboured the hope of something more. No, not at all.
Jaskier's hand over Geralt's heart was pleasant. Geralt removed his other hand from the man's shoulder and pressed it over Jaskier's hand. He knew his palms were warmer than the backs of Jaskier's hands. Geralt knew that he himself ran high, perhaps Jaskier's temperature tended to run cold.
At Jaskier's last beg for forgiveness, Geralt exhaled again. It wasn't frustrating, exactly, more relieved and like he was exhaling tension. He could feel the man's breath against his lips. Not certain of what he was doing or why Geralt moved to complete what Jaskier had started. He tilted his head just enough and leaned in. If Jaskier wanted to back out he could. There was still a centimetre of space between Geralt's lips and Jaskier's.
Julian POV
Jaskier hummed as he moved into Geralt's touch, humming in approval as he felt Geralt's hand encompass his own hand. A smile played at his lips as he stared into Geralt's eyes, he felt the exhale on his lips, it wasn't a grouchy one, or one that was forced but it was what sounded like relief. Relief as to what we'll, considering what just happened, Jaskier could only image what part of it he was relieved about.
His shoulders relaxed slightly as he felt Geralt's breath become suddenly closer to his lips. He let out his own sigh as he leaned in, stroking the man's cheek softly as he slowed and allowed their lips to lightly brush at first, the gentlest of touch.
Jaskier's lips which felt like rose petals and tasted like the wine from the night before, unfortunately, it was going out instead of in but it was the only thing he'd had so it was purely wine. There was a slight tang of it amongst the plain flavour of Jaskier's sweet mouth. He pressed his hand flat against Geralt's chest as he allowed himself to feel the other man's heartbeat completely. The thud of it making Jaskiers heart speed up.
Jaskier pressed his lips closer to Geralt's, allowing their lips to fully mould against one another. Jaskier was a slow kisser, one of passion and a gentle tenderness which was not commonly found. Jaskier felt himself moving slower than he ever had, the passion behind it, all the repressed feelings. He gently allowed their lips to mould before he relaxed his lips and pressed a kiss against their already connected lips. Slow steady and both of them in control.
Geralt POV
Geralt felt half-delirious as Jaskier closed the distance between them. Of all the reactions he had been expecting, this was the one he had been hinting towards, yes, but that didn't necessarily make it the one he had expected. What was Geralt doing? He truly didn't know. He had no reason, and no right, to kiss Jaskier, and yet here he was.
Geralt splayed the hand he had against Jaskier's neck against his hair and neck, curling his fingers in to keep a firmer hold on the man. He could taste the wine Jaskier had drunk, laced with the man's natural sweetness. Geralt let Jaskier take control of the kiss, he himself taking charge of holding them together. He squeezed the hand Jaskier had laid against his chest with his own. How Geralt's heartbeat hadn't started to speed up, he didn't know, but it seemed set in remaining slow and consistent.
He followed Jaskier's pace. Geralt knew he could feel rather like kissing a block of stone at times, and he was rarely wild, not he wasn't passionate, he was just controlled, but Jaskier seemed to want slow and tender, and Geralt could give him that. He kept it chaste. When he gently broke away, whether for breath or for good he didn't know, he didn't let himself linger on Jaskier's lips. He kept their foreheads together and his eyes most of the way closed, breathing.
Julian POV
Jaskier felt Geralt start to pull away and followed after his lips, a light whine nearly escaping his throat at the loss of Geralts lips.
He opened his eyes halfway, pressing his forehead against Geralts softly and he stared into his honey golden orbs of beauty. Jaskier's hand caressed slightly at Geralt's jaw, Jaksier's mind was reeling at the same time as being completely calm. He looked to Geralt's lips before leaning in slightly so that they brushed, a light humm escaping out his throat and against Geralt's lips.
He moved his lips over the man's jaw, soft gentle loving kisses placed along it every few centimetres as he took his time, allowing time to slow down for the two of them. He dared to lean their chests closer so that Jaskier's chest was on the back of his hand. He kissed slow and sure along Geralt's jaw, up following the curve of it before making his way back down, kissing his chin before darling to go under his chin, following slowly down his neck to his Adam's apple before moving back up to Geralt to rest his forehead against his.
Jaskier really shouldn't be doing this, he was a client and Geralt was his Bodyguard but oh gods, how his heart craved to pour out to the other man and let him know he was loved, he was sorry and he was forgiven.
It was a mixture of everything, intoxicating him. The scent of Jaskier's fresh shower had wafted through the air out of the bathroom due to the steam and the fact that he scrubbed his hair and skin thoroughly so it carried the scent. Jaskier's eyes gazed lovingly into Geralts, he could get lost in Geralt and he was slightly afraid he already had.