#it reminded me of playing the witcher 3: geralt: the big bad witcher huffed and puffed and look got a bean

[mistress-light]

I just love Frey's comments in the dlc "Imagine being so obsessed with guarding a tree".

And like: "Man, I did not expect the magic bean stock". Asaksjdad.

Cuff: A WHAT?

[wherethewordsare]

Before and After the Battle

Hi all, I really want to give a special thanks to @frostedbasilisk for not only inspiring me to write this but giving me permission to write a companion piece to this piece of artwork they did. I can only hope I did it justice! Also thanks @lesdemonium for letting me soundboard. I am sorry for yelling randomly at you <3 <3 <3

cw: blood and cursing and so so much bickering. Story under the cut because I can’t have a normal brain that keeps shit under 1k. This ended up being 1.5... @theamazingbard <_<

“You’re going to be late for your contract,” Jaskier hummed, pressing his lips to Geralt’s jaw. He finished fastening his cuirass and tucked a loose hair behind his ear. It had become a kind of dance they did these days. Jaskier would make a comment as though monster hunting were just another day in another profession and Geralt would kiss him and huff. 

“Monsters don’t exactly run on set schedules,” But he would lean up from where he was sitting on the bed, pulling Jaskier closer to him with that secret smile that he saved just for these kinds of days. 

Neither of them were quick to admit how much they had come to need those moments; moments where Jaskier could feel like even something as small as adjusting Geralt’s armor straps or tying back his hair in a way that would keep his eyes clear would keep him safe; moments where Geralt could remind himself that there was a home with a beating heart waiting for him when the job was finished. But the unspoken agreement was that it remained just that, unspoken, though Jaskier could admit to the increasing frequency where there were more words on his lips than he thought his witcher would want to hear. He knew better than to let them linger there, should they slip out so instead he rested his hands on Geralt’s shoulders and kissed him soundly, hoping that maybe he would still understand. 

“Come back, you big oaf, or I’ll be very cross with you,” He murmured with a soft chuckle.

“Don’t I always?” 

“In one piece,” Jaskier pulled back, frowning though the mischief in his eyes spoiled the effect. 

“Hmm,” Geralt leaned down, nipping at Jaskier’s collarbone. “You drive a hard bargain, but fair. Alright, one piece.”

The easy way they teased always felt like a balm against the anxiety that came along with the bigger contracts. A griffin in the narrow mountain pass by the village that had put up the contract felt like one of those. All Jaskier could do was sit and wait and play to fill their coin purse and wait. The first five days weren’t so bad. The next three had him pacing their room, his fingers itching for a pen, his lute, the hilt of his dagger, anything that would take the nervous energy that was starting to build up in his chest. 

He couldn’t take it any longer. Jaskier slung his lute over his back and sheeted his dagger into his boot. He grabbed the pack with the extra witcher potions and bandages as well and made his way out of town. Geralt could be angry at him if he was alive, but otherwise he could keep his grumbling to himself.

He found the dead beast first, it’s throat slit nearly through, feathers and blood everywhere. There was so much blood, Jaskier’s stomach turned as he took in the places it pooled. It hadn’t been recently. 

He spun on his heels, searching around for any sign at all of Geralt. His eyes landed on a smear of blood against the stones, sliding away from the carcass. He moved along the rock face, moving steadily. His foot hit against something metal and he looked down to find Geralt’s medallion. The chain was broken, and there was blood caked into the embossed wolf’s head. 

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s panic finally flooded out of his throat and he hurried along the path until he came across a small outcropping. He froze in his tracks, trying to gulp down breath. A tattered boot stuck out of the small crevice. “Geralt!” 

He stumbled as he rushed forward, finding his witcher in near tatters, tucked into a sliver of an opening in the side of the rock. “One piece, remember, Geralt? I told you! I said come back in one piece and you agreed!” Jaskier babbled as he slung off the pack, panting slightly. There was blood everywhere and though it looked as though most of the wounds in Geralt’s chest were healing with the help of his mutations, everything still looked bad. 

“Jas?” Geralt tried to sit up, his hands fumbling out for Jaskier’s. “Jas, wh-” he swallowed thickly. Jaskier set aside the bandages and potions and took out the waterskin, pressing it to Geralt’s lips.

“Not now, dear heart, I am trying to be very cross with you like I promised because one of us has to keep up our end of the bargain.”

Geralt swallowed the water that was given to him and choked for a moment. He sat up a bit more and Jaskier rushed forward on his knees as he nearly fell forward. Over his shoulder, Jaskier could see more tattered armor and skin, angry welts and skin still stitching itself together across Geralt’s shoulder blades and the back of his bicep. 

“Jaskier, it hurts.” Geralt murmured, pressing his face into Jaskier’s neck, his uninjured arm wrapping awkwardly around his waist. 

“I know. I know it does, darling. It’ll be alright” for a moment he simply carded his fingers through Geralt’s hair and held on. “Lay back for me and we’ll get you sorted. Where are the potions you had?” Jaskier started going through the pack he brought, pulling out the potions he knew would speed along Geralt’s recovery. He should have brought Roach. They’d have to make camp not a dozen yards from that rotting beast and it was bound to attract trouble. 

“Used or smashed, damn thing grabbed me then dropped me.” Geralt gulped down the Swallow Jaskier pressed to his lips, his nose scrunching at the taste. “Gods can’t they make it not taste like shit?”

“No, now drink.” Jaskier hummed brightly.

“Ass,” Geralt growled but there was no heat to it. 

Jaskier was about to lob his own insult back at him but then their eyes met and what ever he was going to say died on his tongue. Geralt’s eyes were clearer and he was grinning up at Jaskier with a challenge but his eyes… oh. His eyes were so fond and something like an explosion went off in Jaskier’s chest. 

Oh.

“Jaskier,” Geralt caught his wrist as he was packing back up the supplies, pulling it to his chest. 

“No,” Jaskier said flatly but he let Geralt keep hold of his wrist.

“I… what?” Geralt frowned from where he lay, still dazed and too pale, even for Geralt’s standards.

“No. No you absolute bastard! I will kill you myself. You hold that thought till your skin isn’t just one big tattered mess and you’re not buzzed out on witcher potions. Then we’ll talk,” Jaskier huffed. He rolled Geralt gently to his side, definitely not to avoid looking at him and reached for the needle and thread. “This one is going to need stitches. There’s nothing for it. It’s deep, even for your potions.” 

“Really leaning into that being mad at me, huh, lark?” Geralt had the nerve to chuckle but winced as it jolted his ribs. 

“Cheeky shit, watch that I don’t sew your mouth up next,” he hummed casually. He set to work his task, feeling somewhat more sure of himself without Geralt making those eyes at him. 

“Hmm…” 

By some unseen blessing of the gods, Jaskier managed to get Geralt back to the village before sundown and into bed. They slept curled around one another well into the next morning, Jaskier pressed against Geralt’s back, his arm around his waist as he slept. He pressed his forehead against the space between Geralt’s shoulder blades, kissing his scars gently, their legs tangled. 

“I���m sorry I was cross with you,” Jaskier whispered as midmorning light fell across them.

Geralt rolled, untangling them gently before tangling them again this time, Jaskier’s face tucked into his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to stay in one piece, thought to be fair, the griffin just wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain it to him.” 

“Showed him, didn’t you?” he sighed, burrowing in closer, taking in the warmth from Geralt’s body pressed in a firm line against his. 

“But, I am no longer a tattered mess or buzzing on witcher potions,” Geralt said softly into Jaskier’s hair.

“Geralt…” Jaskier whined. Strong fingers wound into his hair, guiding his head back until lips were pressing against his, firm but gentle. There was no demand in the kiss, just grounding surety of what came next. 

“Oh no, a deal is a deal,” Geralt grinned, his fingers running down Jaskier’s spine. He had to have been able to feel Jaskier’s heart jackrabbitting between them. “I love you and I should have said it sooner. I love you and it shouldn’t have taken a fucking griffin nearly killing me to find the ner-”

Jaskier cut him off with a rough kiss, a gurgling kind of laugh bubbling in his chest as he pressed Geralt back down into the mattress. “Of course I love you too, you absolute fool.”

Of course, both thought they were getting the better end of that particular deal.

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Tag list as stands <3: @jaskierswolf @geraskier-trashh @electricrituals @elliestormfound @artistsfuneral @thetinymm @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms