cointosser: (Default)
Jaskier "old-timey fuckboy" Alfred Pankratz ([personal profile] cointosser) wrote2021-04-12 08:58 pm
gynvael: (ml: 011)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-21 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ You do if you can't ride them and they haven't been let out to stretch their legs. No, it's—absolutely far from the point.

He isn't certain what the point is. He's drinking the wine without paying attention. It matters not because he does not wish to be sober and this means the Horizon provides accordingly. The cracker narrowly misses his head as he leans to the side.

Family pet. He curls his fingers tighter around his glass. Is that what he's building here, yet again? (He is.) He doesn't...mean to leave his other family behind. It's just. They don't need him the same way. He's made his choice. His brothers still have each other. He has what he's got here.

His expression softens. Jaskier seems different. Genuinely so, rather than struggling to pretend he's all right. ]
I am glad.
gynvael: (ml: 014)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-21 05:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ He gets it. He spent decades alone but he was never without his horse. There's a simplicity to that sort of loyal companionship. Besides, it's as Jaskier said: the toy gryphon is only a danger to small lizards. Not even then. He's seen several escape its valiant hunting efforts. He can't quite call it a monster, in truth. A little beast, perhaps.

Healing and time. He lowers his gaze. He knows. When you heal, the scars remain. They don't ever disappear. Jaskier still carries the burns on his fingers. Geralt still bears the scar down his spine, the lashes that mark his back. He can feel it when he bends, how the skin flexes not as it once did there. His dreams have not left him, either. In the desert, alone, he sleeps more often solely for the fact that he need not worry who will hear him in the night. ]


I haven't got elsewhere to be. [ He'll stay. He wants the calm for a bit longer. He finished the shelves, the bed. No contract to fill. Not much left for him to bury himself in. ] You?

[ He'll be here either way, whether Jaskier is with him or not. But admittedly, the company is...good. ]
gynvael: (198)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-22 09:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ah. So that's where it's going tonight. He did not come here for that, exactly, but he won't say it never crossed his mind. It certainly does not leave his mind now that the taste of it has been introduced into the air, thickening it. Geralt plucks the bottle off the table as he stands. Jaskier is right: it doesn't go empty. He tips it back and it stays perpetually half-full, wine sloshing as he drinks while he follows Jaskier towards his bedroom tour.

The steps spiral upwards again, deep into the emerald leaves. Has Ciri seen it yet? Is he the first? Part of him feels as if he's missed things: between one contract or another, or the projects he's made for himself, he knows he's been burying his head a bit. Something is afoot with the eclipse, the Singularity. He should be concerned and he is, but at the same time, he's. Fucking tired.

Every room is inviting, warm. Sunlight filters through the branches. He traces the running wolves etched into the railings; perhaps when he's less full of wine, he might stop to think about what it really means. For now, all he does is step inside, liquor buzzing through his veins. He's looking at the decorations, but he's looking at Jaskier, too: slender fingers as they gesture, the cant of his hips, his lips. It isn't long before Geralt re-corks the wine and interrupts with a shove that pins Jaskier to the wall. The kiss is hungry, a hint sloppy, and he pulls at the quaint little bow at the back of those silk breeches. ]
gynvael: (057)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-24 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ He gives a short exhale of a laugh. Of course Jaskier would say that, and Geralt can't give a damn at the moment that it's true. Jaskier is right. He is always right because he understands the Witcher in ways Geralt shouldn't have ever allowed from anyone—never meant to allow from anyone—and yet.

Here they are.

He shrugs off his ruined shirt; lets it fall to the floor. ]
I can think of better things.

[ Better things to taste, better things to want. He slips his hand inside Jaskier's loosened trousers. Curls his fingers around what he finds there.

Better things, indeed. Jaskier is offering and Geralt is taking. They both want. In the end, what does it matter, the reasons why? His heart aches. He won't deny that. He doesn't want to dwell on it. He wants to be here. With his friend, who looks lighter at last, who's decided to leave the Continent behind alongside him. He is building something, something important, and despite everything, he knows with all certainty that he wants Jaskier to be a part of it.

(He does not let himself think about all those vanishing faces, quietly fading from this world. If one day, Jaskier may join them. He can't, he won't.) ]
gynvael: (mg: 005)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-26 09:18 am (UTC)(link)
[ The wind rustles the leaves, and Geralt leans harder into the kiss. Wraps his fingers more firmly around Jaskier's cock. He can feel those hands trailing down his back; he doesn't think about it, on his part, how they trace over his newest scars. He's earned so many, they've become just one more. A handful of many reminders.

Maybe he tries to dwell on these a little less, though. There is more to it, than teeth and claws.

He pushes Jaskier back in answer—walking forward with his lips still exploring Jaskier's throat until they hit the bed. He falls on top, Jaskier underneath. The mattress sinks, plush, yielding.

He slides his hand under Jaskier's shirt, a heavy exhale falling from him. ]
gynvael: (263)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-28 03:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ Bed's certainly more comfortable than the one they have in their home. It lets him straddle Jaskier easily as he kisses him, hard, nipping at his lip, his jawline. He pulls at Jaskier's clothes—an impatient grunt before he lifts up and off.

He helps pull everything off and shoves the silk and linen to the side. Kisses down Jaskier's chest. He grinds against him, pleasure building hot inside.

The liquor warms his veins, his blood. He isn't the most refined at the moment, but when he is ever? Jaskier sure as fuck doesn't care and neither does he. He lets his desires consume him easily, reaching between Jaskier's legs once all of his clothes are gone. His thumb slides up the length of it. ]


Ask me to fuck you.
gynvael: (021)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-28 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
[ He much prefers stripping another's clothes off. It's part of the enjoyment—but then, he's always liked using his hands.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He rolls his eyes: as much fondness as irritation in the gesture. His grip grows firmer, before he releases him to slide his hand up Jaskier's thigh instead. Those legs open for him, and he takes advantage. ]


And what if I do? Hm?

[ A teasing shine lights his eyes. Maybe Jaskier simply makes it too easy to toy with him a little—but he isn't exactly leaving him unattended, either. He kisses Jaskier's jaw, the side of his throat.

Only then does he start to reach for the buttons on his trousers, slipping them loose one by one. ]
gynvael: (242)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-29 04:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ Geralt cups Jaskier face, running a thumb over his cheekbone. Confident indeed. He's tempted to do it, but it isn't impatience that gets him so much as a simple desire to want to see Jaskier enjoy himself. Plenty of room to annoy him later. ]

Another time. [ He pulls the last button loose, and then leaves it be, his trousers half-open. Maybe it's deliberate, maybe it isn't—but he's between Jaskier's legs soon enough. His hand wraps back around Jaskier. It's slow, steady, and eventually, he closes his lips around the length of him.

It is coming up soon, his trip. Within days. Sometimes he thinks about forgoing his long travels—he has people now, people who rely on him—but the truth is, these two weeks in Cadens alone have made him restless out of his fucking mind. He isn't made for it. He isn't. It's different to winter in Kaer Morhen, where he trains, runs the Killer, hunts for dinner, repairs the walls and cleans and keeps certain troublemakers amongst his brothers in line. The city offers what he needs for easy purchase; their home is not difficult to maintain. Rinwell looks after Roach, takes care of most meals. Advancements and magic make quick the tasks that once took effort, like hauling water or preserving food. There's so much empty time, time he hasn't any idea how to fill without a sword in his hands and a trail to pursue.

Some of that restlessness comes out now, in the way he takes Jaskier in his mouth and grips his hip, intent on drawing out the noises he knows Jaskier likes to make. The ones he knows he can drag out of him, because he's done it before. Several times. ]
gynvael: (022)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-29 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He laughs a little: breathless, still curled over Jaskier. A mood. It's a number of things. All of those things. She is on his mind, but it's more than that, too. A coiled tension of just too much that's been building up since...shit. Weeks? Months? He can't even say. He isn't even aware of it, fully. He only knows there's been a tension inside him, threatening to spill over, and with enough wine, with someone he can let his guard down with, that's exactly what it does. Some of it, at least. Not all, but. A small burst that flares hot inside him.

Jaskier's not complaining. Not near it.

He lets Jaskier bury his fingers in his hair. He can hold him down if he wants; he doesn't give a fuck. He finds there isn't much he cares about at the moment, except where Jaskier's hands are, what the stutter of his heart says. (It says Jaskier likes this a hell of a lot.) His tongue curls, flattens; he trails his nails down Jaskier's leg, feels the rough brush of hair against his palm.

He wants to taste him and then he wants to fuck him. That's what's on his mind right now. ]
Edited 2022-03-29 22:50 (UTC)
gynvael: (128)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-03-31 06:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ He is not aware of what Jaskier is seeking, specifically—but he can tell from the stutter of Jaskier's heart when he's close. It's quick, inelegant, and he wants it to be nothing else but that. His nose bumps Jaskier's stomach as that soft groan fills the air.

The slickness to his lips is wiped away with the back of his hand as he lifts up. He looks at once satisfied and wanting. His palm rests on Jaskier's chest and he bends to kiss him—lets Jaskier taste himself there. It isn't the first time as a whole, but it is the first time in the Horizon. ]


What else have you got in this room of yours? [ An open-ended invitation for Jaskier to create whatever he likes. If he wants. Why the fuck not? They're free to take advantage of the creation magic on this plane.

And even as he asks, his fingers are trailing up Jaskier's chest. He drags his nails along. He does want more than a quick taste. But he's not in a rush to take it just yet. ]
gynvael: (012)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-04-02 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Mm. It is the point. But it isn't about what he's looking for; it's about what Jaskier wants. The soft silk materializes, and he thinks he knows. He winds it between his fingers. It smells of floral and pine.

He likes simplicity.

The truth is, he likes familiarity, too. He likes knowing, without question. And with Jaskier, there has never been much by way of questions. Not after two decades of history between them, not when Jaskier remains the only person here who met him before. Before Destiny, before Yennefer, before Ciri. Before so fucking much happened. He doesn't regret being where he is now; he's not one to look back. But perhaps it means something, to have someone who's seen nearly every side of him and has remained his friend.

An old friend, he thinks, brushing Jaskier's hair off his face before he gently wraps the silk over his eyes. He bends down afterwards, letting his teeth nip at the shell of Jaskier's ear. ]
Good?
gynvael: (263)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-04-03 07:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ Pondering. He rolls his eyes, imagines Jaskier need not see to know that he has. He settles next Jaskier instead of on top—the bed has plenty of room here—and coaxes Jaskier onto his side. ]

Maybe. [ Mm. Not unpleasant thoughts. He can recognize Jaskier trusts him and he can recognize, too, that in the Horizon, it tends to feel—safer. It's a feeling he understands can't be relied upon to ignore reality—it doesn't work like that—but one which he also has come to use from time to time. A reprieve.

(Perhaps he is ignoring the world, a bit.)

His hand runs down bare skin, over Jaskier's hips. The alcohol leaves him with less on his mind; desire takes care of the rest. There's just this, them. A jar oil that he slicks his fingers with, and then he's gliding them down Jaskier's spine, further and further. ]
gynvael: (220)

[personal profile] gynvael 2022-04-08 06:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[ His tone is a more obviously teasing when he answers that sentiment with another, ] Maybe.

[ Jaskier lays himself out like a bird spreading its mating feathers. Colourful and bright, somehow, even stripped of his clothes. Geralt drinks it in without restraint. His eyes roam over the dip of Jaskier's hips, the swell of his backside. The scar that runs up his arm.

He slips his fingers in, one at a time, slow. Languid. They've all the hours in the world. (They haven't, in reality, but right now it feels as though they may.) His forehead drops against Jaskier's shoulder. It hides a smile. Not that he needs to; Jaskier can't see him. Feel it, perhaps. He can't say he minds, either, having Jaskier occupy his thoughts. He keeps going, pushing deeper, but for all the patience he exhibits, he's wanting, too. Desire curls through him, warms his blood; soon enough, he's undone the rest of his buttons.

Spread on his side next to Jaskier, he eases in. His palm splays against Jaskier's stomach, a soft breath falling from him. ]

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