LAZY AFTERNOON
18+ under the cut. Warnings: claws (no blood), 1700 words.
Jaskier can feel the warm heat of the summer sun, caressing his skin in a sharp contrast to the cool water of the pond he’s currently floating in. There’s no breeze, hasn’t been on in days, and he’s so glad they finally found somewhere to cool off. Geralt seems to like him covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but that has its time and place.
He sits up a bit and searches the shoreline for the demon. Geralt is sitting on a blanket, naked in all his glory, and drying off in the sun. Suddenly Jaskier doesn’t much feel like floating anymore. He lets his feet hit the sandy bottom of the pond and starts walking towards shore. Geralt has his eyes closed, but there’s a tension in his shoulders and Jaskier knows he’s not sleeping. He looks gorgeous, his pale gray skin almost white in the sun’s bright light.
He looks every bit like the fallen angel he could be in another life.
By the time he makes it out of the water, Geralt has perked up and is watching him with hungry eyes. Jaskier shakes the water out of his hair and blows him a kiss just to watch him squirm. Geralt doesn’t seem to realize how completely gone for him Jaskier is, and Jaskier loves to see him get flustered.
He doesn’t bother drying off, just drops down into Geralt’s lap, straddling his thick thighs as he wraps his arms around his neck. Geralt huffs at him, but he’s smiling, so Jaskier knows it’s just for show. Geralt’s skin is sun-kissed and warm, and he shivers and presses closer.
“You’re wet,” Geralt says dryly.
“How astute of you,” Jaskier says with a giggle. “The sun will dry us. Guess I’ll have to find something to do while we wait. What, oh what, could we get up to when we’re both naked and bored like this?”
“Trust me, life with you is never boring,” Geralt tells him, chuckling deeply. Jaskier loves him like this, so open and willing to be teased. They haven’t been properly together for very long, but it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he likes to think the same goes for Geralt. He hasn’t smiled this much in all their time together.
“That just means I’m doing my job,” he whispers, nuzzling his cheek against Geralt's.
“Which is?”
“Loving you,” Jaskier replies with a happy hum. He can feel Geralt flushing under the compliment and grins before turning his face and nipping at his neck.
The change in the atmosphere is almost palpable, and Geralt growls and grips him by the hips, his claws pressing in just hard enough to make themselves known. Jaskier shivers and presses open-mouthed kisses against Geralt’s throat before sinking his teeth into the crook of his neck. The growl he gets in response has him hardening already, and he lets out a breathy moan before lapping at the mark he just caused.
He reaches back and lets his fingers trail over the tops of Geralt’s wings, the black feathers hot from the sun. Geralt shivers, so he presses harder, slides a hand down to tease the skin between where the wings meet between his shoulder blades. Bucking his hips, Geralt lets out another growl and turns his head to catch Jaskier’s mouth in a harsh kiss.
He could live on Geralt’s kisses alone. His mouth is so plush against his, and Geralt licks into his mouth, laying claim. Jaskier whimpers and opens for him, loving the way his forked tongue dips into his mouth. He sucks on it and swallows down the groan Geralt lets out. Geralt nips at his bottom lip, his fangs digging in nearly hard enough to break skin, and Jaskier whimpers, his whole body tensing up at the mix of pleasure and pain.
“Fuck, I love your tongue,” Jaskier chokes out as he pulls back, already panting just from the kissing and the desperate sounds Geralt has been making. Geralt answers by licking across his lips and kissing along his jaw. He shivers and clings to him, nearly falling off his lap as he starts rocking against Geralt’s thigh.
“It would feel even better if you let me eat you out,” Geralt murmurs, and Jaskier stills in confusion.
“I uh...not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have a cunt,” he says, laughing a bit awkwardly. Only Geralt growls against him, and Jaskier has a feeling he’s overlooked something.
“Fuck, you’ve never?” Geralt asks, stopping to take a deep breath. “That’s almost better. I get to be the one to wreck you for the first time. On your stomach. You’ll love this.” He helpfully rolls him over himself, and Jaskier pillows his head on his arms and looks over his shoulder to see what Geralt plans on doing. “Do you trust me?”
“With all that I am, Darling,” Jaskier tells him softly, loving the way Geralt flushes at his words. He’s going to spend the rest of his life giving this man all that he has and is going to enjoy every single second of it.
“Oh fuck me,” Jaskier cries out, arching his hips into the touch. He can both hear and feel Geralt chuckle, the vibrations shooting through him as he continues to lap at him. Geralt flattens his tongue and presses harder, making him whimper and start rocking back against the feeling.
Jaskier’s whole body feels like he’s burning up, and his thighs are already starting to tremble as Geralt laps at him. And then he sucks at his rim and Jaskier howls, shoving his face into his arms. He’s not going to survive this.
Then Geralt’s tongue slips inside and Jaskier nearly comes right there. He licks him open, pressing deeper with his thick tongue. It’s reaching places he’s never known could be touched like this, and Jaskier starts babbling praise as Geralt works him over. His forked tongue slides even deeper, and Geralt starts fucking him in earnest, just quick stabs as he moans like Jaskier’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.
Jaskier claws at his own arms, digging his blunt nails into his skin as he writhes and pushes back against Geralt’s face. He is absolutely not going to last. His skin is buzzing and he’s damn near blind with lust at this point. His prick hangs hard and heavy between his thighs but he’s torn between rutting against the blanket beneath him and bucking back against Geralt’s mouth.
How has he lived this long without having Geralt’s tongue in his ass?
The sounds they’re making are obscene, the wet slide of Geralt’s tongue in his ass almost overwhelming as Jaskier struggles to hold on. Geralt growls against him, his long forked tongue fucking him quick and deep, and Jaskier shoves back hard, desperate for more. Pulling back, Geralt nips at his cheek before breathing out, “Touch yourself,” and diving back in.
He leans up on one elbow and manages to snake a hand down his chest to wrap his fingers around himself. He’s leaking steadily, making a mess of himself and the blanket under him, and Jaskier gasps, choking on air when he finally starts pumping his cock. He can’t possibly go slow, not with the way Geralt is licking him open, and he starts stripping his prick quickly as he whines and rocks back into Geralt.
All it takes is one deep flick of Geralt’s tongue and he’s coming, sobbing as he spills over his hand. His arm gives out, and he just fucks into his fist as he rides out his orgasm, whimpering as his whole body lights up. Geralt fucks him through it with that glorious tongue, burying his face against Jaskier’s ass as he licks him open.
Jaskier is completely wrecked, trembling and oversensitive by the time Geralt pulls back, nipping at the curve of his ass one last time before sitting back on his heels. He tries to roll over to look at him, but he’s too out of it, ruined by Geralt’s brilliant tongue. There’s a deep chuckle that sends another shiver through him, and then Geralt’s hands are on his hips, helping him onto his back.
“Look at you,” Geralt groans out, “Such a mess.”
“Give me a moment - several perhaps - and I’ll give you a hand with that,” Jaskier manages to say between pants. Geralt tilts his head and looks down at him, eyeing the mess of seed clinging to his thighs and just offers him a feral grin..
“I have a better idea,” he tells him before dragging his hand through the come and spreading it between Jaskier’s thighs. Jaskier is not much help, but he hums in agreement as Geralt pushes his legs together and holds them upright.
He does his best to keep his thighs pressed together, to create a tight space for Geralt to fuck into, but he’s mostly useless at this point. Geralt starts thrusting and helps hold his legs together, biting the curve of his ankle as he moves between them. It’s all Jaskier can do to lay there and let Geralt use his thighs, his hips stuttering as he takes his pleasure.
They lock eyes, and Jaskier licks his lips, pouring all the lust he has left into his gaze. Geralt comes with a strangled moan, going taut as he shoots over Jaskier’s soft prick and stomach. He hisses as he comes and keeps fucking between Jaskier’s thighs until he’s spent. With one last kiss to the side of Jaskier’s foot, he slides out and lowers Jaskier’s legs to the ground.
“What a lovely way to spend the afternoon,” Jaskier mumbles, opening his arms for Geralt to crawl into. He curls up against Jaskier’s side and brings his wings down around them, which has quickly become Jaskier’s safe place. They don’t talk much, just lay there cuddling and nuzzling each other until the sky turns pink and orange. They have a night swim to get clean again, and Jaskier can see himself spending the rest of his life like this. He’s not sure if Geralt is at that point yet, but he plans to stick around until he is.
©® Tanmoy
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