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The first thing Eskels noticed about the bard, truly noticed was the way he looked when he laughed. Unbound and free, head thrown back and snorting undignified, hands shaking and all his perfectly white teeth on display. It made his stomach twist and pull in a way he had never experienced before, and he was unsure what do with this newfound emotion inside of him, so he decided to just watch and learn.
At first glance the bard was a buffoon. Loud and carefree, annoying even but Eskel was smart enough to realize that it’s a façade, a wall the bard had built around himself and far from the truth. He was highly intelligent, not just in an educated way but he had a certain real-world smartness about him that was intriguing without making him arrogant.
He was deeply loyal, Eskel knew this because he had to sit in the main hall and listen to Geralts weak apology about something that happened on a mountain and to his own surprise the bard had just shrugged, a hand on his brother’s shoulder and not only told him they were good, but he also acted like it and with awe Eskel watched as Geralt smiled and called him his best friend.
The bard was funny, in a dry unexpected way that made even Lambert blush and confess that the bard was hilarious if he wanted to be, and the way he coughed and snorted at his own jokes was delightful.
He was a diligent worker, even coming from royalty he was not opposed to get down onto his knees and rub basilisk acid from the main hall and even though he complained about it, he never shyed away from any physical or otherwise demanding work.
He was helpful, in a way that saw exactly what was needed and worked on it without even asking. He had taken over kitchen duty after the cleaning had been done and started to sort through the library after Vesemir had granted him access, eager to be of help but aware of his own limitations, about repairing crumbling walls.
He was kind in a way that Eskel had never seen before. The bard had taken Ciri under his wing, and while the Witchers trained her, and Yennefer supervised her in magic Jaskier thought her what it meant to be human, and Geralt had quietly acknowledged that that was the most important thing of all.
He also thought her court manners and poetry and Eskels favourite time of the week was when each Thursday they would all gather in the library, Coen and Lambert now openly cuddling in front of the fire, another thing the bard had made happen with his soft words and loving soul and listened to Jaskiers stories.
He had expected the feeling to subside but over the weeks the longing only grew, the pull in his stomach ever-present and Eskel was at a loss of what do about it, besides continue watching the bard like the wonder he was. Whenever Jaskier spoke to him it was in a soft warm tone, the barely visible crow’s feet on his otherwise unblemished smooth skin, wrinkling with delight and standing almost too close.
There was also the touching. A hand on his arm or shoulder. A hug in the morning. A soft touch to his knee when he told a joke, shoulders brushing together during kitchen duty, and it was killing Eskel. His finger tingled with the urge to reach out, to grab Jaskier, to pull him onto his lap and the longer it went on the more intense his wanting went. First, he had only fantasized about soft touches, like you would give a close friend, but the more time passed the deeper his desires roamed.
It didn’t help that the bard had the tendency to walk around the halls between the hot springs and his own room half naked, wet, and glistening, hair slicked back, firm chest full of delicious hair on display.
Now his mind was full of other thoughts. Not only longing for soft touches but the urge to unwrap Jaskier like a Yule gift. To see his lips red and kiss swollen, to hear his soft voice hitch, gasping for air, to bounce him onto his cock, hands held high above the bard’s head and to bite, to claim, to keep. It was becoming a problem.
The bard didn’t make it easy for him, smiling and calling him handsome and when he looked at Geralt for help his brother had the audacity to grunt “You would be good for each other” and leave it at that. Lambert took one hard long look at him when he asked for advice and then proceeded to laugh so hard, he started to get hiccups and Coen had to help him up and out of the room. Eskel refused to talk with Vesemir, Yen or gods beware Ciri about it, which meant that in conclusion he was utterly fucked, and not in the way he wanted.
He had excused himself earlier that night, seeking refuge in his own room, a warm and comfortable fire burning in his hearth, Lil Bleater on his lap when he heard a knock on the door.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me…. Jaskier, can I come in?”
Pressing his eyes shut for a moment and pinching the bridge of his nose Eskel cleared his throat.
“Yes of course.”
The bard was dressed in his lose sleep clothes and Eskels breath hitched when he took him in. He looked tired, his bare feet probably cold on the stone floor but so very soft and huggable.
Sheepishly Jaskier shuffled closer after he had kicked the door shut behind him and sat down next to Eskel on the warm sheep rugs, smiling openly.
“There is a draft in my room, I am freezing my balls off over there trying to sleep. I hoped you would let me spend the night here?” He titled his head and looked up to the Witcher under his eyelashes and before Eskel could even rationally think about it, he nodded.
“Yes, sure. Make yourself at home.”
Smiling the bard stretched onto the furs like a cat, beautiful and long with some underlining danger to it and rested his head right onto Eskels lap, scratching Bleats between her ears. Eskel swallowed hard at the closeness but pretended to get back to his book, the writing swimming before his eyes.
Lil Bleater made a happy sound and rolled up next to them and for a second Eskel wondered if his usually angry and bitey goat had been replaced by a doppler before snorting in acceptance that nobody was immune to the bard’s charm.
“What are you reading, love?”
The nicknames were killing Eskels slowly, purposeful and in the best way and he smiled as he answered.
“Oh, nothing special, just an old book with poems.”
Jaskiers made a soft gurgling sound and Eskel looked down in surprise but chose not to comment on it.
“Read it to me?”
After clearing his throat and flipping through the book Eskel took a deep breath, an action he instantly regrated as the bard’s warm scent filled his nostrils. He had been aware that Jaskier smelt good but being so close he could distinguish all the small nuances in his scent. There was something earthy to him, like the smell of a forest ground after a soft spring rain. Ink that clung to his fingers from writing and composing, something flowery and musky like sandalwood and sweet like fresh forest berries.
Eskel swore under his breath, not loud enough for Jaskier to hear and prayed that he would manage to keep his composure.
“Anything specific you want to hear?” To his own surprise and relief his voice was steady as always even though his knees felt weak.
“Surprise me dear Witcher.” Jaskier shrugged and made himself comfortable in Eskels lap, closing his eyes and without even thinking about it one of Eskels hands made its way to the bard’s hair, tenderly petting him. With a calm and steady voice, he began to read, poem after poem, trying to quelch his nerves that fluttered at Jaskiers closeness and before he could even finish the first one the bards breathing had evened out, and he was quietly mumbling about syntax and stanzas in his sleep.
Smiling to himself Eskel closed the book and carefully scooped Jaskier up into his arms, taking two large steps over to the large bed and made sure the bard was comfortable situated underneath the covers before making himself a sleeping space onto the sheep’s fur, not daring to join Jaskier even in his own bed uninvited.
He thought he would have trouble sleeping, not used to having his space invaded or his room shared but Jaskiers soft noises lulled him to sleep quicker than expected. His scent comforting and welcomed in Eskels nose and even if there was half the room between them Eskel swore, he could almost feel his heat radiating.
Surprisingly when he woke up, he found himself unable to move and after gathering his senses for a second it became clear why. Sometime during the night Jaskier had left the warm bad and dragged a pillow and blankets over to where Eskel had been sleeping in front of the hearth and made a nest for them. The Witcher was almost shocked that he hadn’t woken when Jaskier must had shoved a pillow under his head and crawled underneath the blankets close to him, gripping onto him like an octopus, his head resting so close underneath Eskel’s chin that his silken hair tickled his skin, an arm and leg thrown over his torso and waist and clinging to him like a lifeline.
Eskel pressed his eyes back shut and inhaled the warm sent that surrounded the bard, carefully moving his arms to hold onto Jaskier even for a second before the bard would surely wake and leave him once more.
The sun was barley up, just creeping inside his room and filling it in a soft orange light, igniting the leftover ambers in the hearth and making Jaskier’s hair look almost golden and red, shimmering in the otherworldly hue.
It was a perfect moment and Eskel was afraid to even breath too hard, scared that it would shatter the peaceful moment like broken window glass in the storm if he dared to move. Selfishly he let himself lie still, wanting to keep Jaskier like this with him for as long as possible. If he was truly honest with himself, he wanted to keep him for all his life, whatever the young half elf had left of it, wanted to keep him by his side and in his bed, on his cock and in his heart.
Fuck, of course he had managed to not only lust after Geralt’s best friend but to fall in love with him as well over the course of only two months.
He sighed in frustration, aware that after winter was ending, Jaskier would trail after Geralt once more, leaving him behind to yearn and pine until he would see him again the next winter. That, if Jaskier decided to come again. Who knew what the future held for the bard? Maybe, just maybe he could convince Jaskier to travel with him in Geralt’s stead. His brother would surely spend time with Yennefer and Ciri and other mages, to train the young elder child more in magic, maybe if he were lucky Jaskier would grow bored, or he and Geralt would fight again and-
Silently Eskel cursed himself for his horrible thoughts, who was he to wish for his brother and best friend to have a falling out again just so he could satisfy his own needs. No, he would just do as he always did, watch silently and pine and make sure Jaskier knew he was always welcome.
Lil Bleater made a lout hungry noise, and he could feel the bard on his chest being woken suddenly, before Jaskier stretched and rubbed his face against Eskel’s chest. “Morning.”
“Good morning Jaskier….”
Instead of getting up like Eskel had suspected, Jaskier kept rubbing his face against his sleep shirt like a kitten.
“Your floor is hard.”
Snorting Eskel held onto the bard, soft enough that the other could move away but not willing to let go of him yet, or ever.
“Why did you not stay in bed songbird?”
Amused Jaskier snorted. “Mhm was cold…”
Maybe it was a half elven thing? Perhaps his body temperate ran differently and the bard needed body heat to stay warm? That would certainly explain all the conquest Eskel had heard about in the past.
He was about to answer when Jaskier set up and stretched again, sheepishly looking down on him.
“I am sorry, I did not mean to impose. I can sleep somewhere else tonight, maybe Geralt will-“
“No! No, its fine. You are of course welcome here.” Eskel did not want to imagine Jaskier curling up with his brother at all, trying his best to look warm and inviting and to his relief the bard nodded.
“Thank you, love.”
Smiling Jaskier leaned over to press a soft kiss against Eskel’s cheek, whose hand immediately came up to touch the skin the bard had just kissed. His hand stayed there for minutes, even after Jaskier had left the room and he swore he could feel the spot of skin tingle for the rest of the day.
They day went about normal, as it usually did. After breakfast, the Witchers went outside with Ciri and in the afternoon when she had her training with Yennefer, they worked on keeping the keep standing. Eskel must confess that Yennefer had helped them with a lot of repairsm with her magicm those last two months but there was still a lot to do. Yet each of the Witchers found time to engage in their own activities every other day. Lambert would spend hours with brewing and bomb making, only allowing Coen to disturb his work while Geralt enjoyed knitting, not that he would ever say it aloud and made sure everyone was kept warm during the Winter.
Vesemir had a nick for gardening and enjoyed a lot of time with Yennefer in his enchanted greenhouse, discussing various medicinal and cosmetic uses of his plants, while Coen painted in his free time.
Eskel himself enjoyed working with wood and metal, not just to repair things but to make decorative items as well. He had made Ciri a small bronze lion last week and the way her face had lit up had brought him more happiness than he had thought possible. He wanted to make something for Jaskier as well but the first thing that came to mind was a smaller copy of his own medallion, and even he knew that Jaskier would realize it as him being claimed by Eskel, so he had brushed that thought aside as soon as it had surfaced and yet every time, he was in his smithy the idea did not let him go.
He could of course make a generic medallion, or one like Geralt’s, to make it seem like he was just welcoming Jaskier to their pack but the idea of having the bard adorned with anything than his own symbol did not sit right with him. His daydreams where constantly filled with images of Jaskier, his naked skin glistening with sweat as he was laid out on his bed, the fresh white linens underneath him a contrast to his warm skin, his hair dishevelled, his smile warm and sated from a night of lovemaking and on his chest, right above his heart Eskel’s medallion.
He excused himself early that evening, right after dinner, seeking refuge in his room, but even after taking himself into hand the images did not stop swirling in his mind. If anything, it had gotten worse with Jaskier sent still clinging to his bedsheets. Frustrated Eskel put on his trousers again, but nothing else, determined to go for a brisk walk in the snow when the sound of a soft knock made him stop in his tracks.
“Yes?”
“It’s me again! I am ready for bed!” Jaskier’s voice sounded chipper and even eager, and Eskel cursed himself for forgetting about the sleep situation. He should send Jaskier away but instead he took a deep breath and opened his door, welcoming Jaskier in who tonight only wore a lose sleep shirt and no trousers.
“Brr, I swear your keep is colder than a witch’s tit.”
Laughing at his own joke the bard rubbed his hands together and invade Eskel’s space, hugging him briefly. “Thank you for letting me share your bed again.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose Eskel nodded, gods could the bard not have it worded any differently?
“Of course, songbird. Make yourself at home.”
Smiling Jaskier did as he was told and after kicking his boots off, he crawled into Eskel’s bed as if he belonged there, patting the empty side besides him. “Well come on then Witcher.”
Muttering a curse under his breath Eskel climbed into bed, trying to keep as much distance between him and Jaskier as humanly possible but the bard had other ideas. He nested against his side, resting his head against Eskel’s chest, and started to let his fingers dance over the scars on his arm.
“Mhm you are very warm Eskel.”
“I…yes…it’s the Witcher…I…. thank you.”
“Mhm…are you warm like this everywhere?”
There was something in the bard’s tone that Eskel didn’t recognize so he just shrugged and drew the covers over them, not sure what to make of the sudden disappointed expression on Jaskier’s face.
“Good night songbird.”
“Yes…good night, Eskel.” The bard sighed in something that sounded almost like frustration, maybe he wasn’t warm enough and so Eskel wrapped his arms around him to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. He fell asleep quickly, the bards soft breathing lulling him in.
The next morning was similar to the one before, but worse as Jaskier’s sleep shirt had ridden up and his naked legs rubbed against Eskel’s own, warm, and soft skin pressed to his, the bard’s hand somehow tangled up in his hair and his soft lips pressed to his bare chest.
It was heaven.
It was hell.
All he wanted was to let his own hand drag underneath Jaskier shirt, to tenderly embrace him and let his fingers dance over his back but instead he softly pushed the bard off and all but fled the room, looking for Lambert for a sparring match to set his head back on straight.
He made sure to avoid Jaskier at all costs that day. Spent more time in the training grounds outside, running through the snow like a man possessed and then afterwards locking himself away in his smithy, working on weapons and horseshoes until he was tired, only surfacing shortly for food, later than usual to make sure to not run into the bard and yet when night came, and he had just made his way back into his rooms there was that dreaded knock again.
This time Jaskier wore a normal shirt, not long like it had been the day before but barley reaching his mid thighs, long legs naked and on display, his hair still wet from the bath he had been taking and a soft smile on his face.
Eskel knew he should send him away, to protect his own heart but when he opened his mouth all that came out was “Come in.” before he stepped aside and watched as Jaskier happily made his way to his bed and claimed the left side as he did the night before.
The Witcher felt tired and yet he prolonged going into bed as long as possible, feeding Bleats treats and tiding up his room, stoking the fire in the hearth before he ran out of excuses and made his way to the bed. He braced himself to be touched as soon as he lied down and as expected Jaskier did wrap himself around the Witcher in one swift motion, sighing happily and pressing against him.
It only took a few short moments before Eskel realized that Jaskier was not wearing anything underneath his shirt and the Witcher became as stiff as a board.
“Are you all right dear Eskel?”
“Splendid.” Came the pressed answer before Eskel tried his best to think about vomit, and monster parts to keep his own cock from rising. He could feel Jaskier’s prick pressed against his thigh, almost rubbing when the bard wiggled to make himself comfortable.
The Witcher did not sleep that night, hyper aware of the half hard bard rubbing against him in his sleep, the soft little sounds that left his mouth, the hand that curled into Eskel’s hair once more and when the sun slowly crept into the room Eskel was stiff and sore from laying still all night, his muscles almost cramped up and his eyes hurting from staring at the ceiling all night.
He decided at once that this could not go on, for his own sake as much as Jaskier’s. It was not the bard’s fault that he had developed feelings for him, and it was unfair to him to want more than to be a source of warmth, so the Witcher decided to just go into Jaskier’s room later today and repair the draft that kept making Jaskier seek out another bed.
After his daily tasks of training and repairs where done and he was sure that Jaskier was not in his room he made his way over to the corridor where Geralt had put Jaskier to check the room. He hesitated for a moment, certain that this was an intrusion of privacy but since he did not plan to look through the bard’s stuff or open any drawers, he carefully made his way into Jaskier’s room, sure to find it cold and chill like the bard had said only to find a comfortable perfectly warm abode without any drafts.
Blinking in confusion Eskel looked around. The room itself was a bit smaller than the Witchers permanent living places, yet fully furnished and comfortable. It was surprisingly tidy and clean, only a few small trinkets laying around, and among them Eskel found a faintly red glowing crystal.
He immediately knew what it was. It must have been a gift from Yennefer, or maybe Triss when she had visited a few weeks ago and the implications made his stomach turn.
It was a simple Temperature Control Crystal, created a long time ago to make sure that the rooms of mages at court were always cosy and warm and the perfect temperature no matter the weather.
The Witchers head started to spin for a second, standing in the warm room, taking in the inviting bed and soft furs, the hand knitted blankets on it as he stared into nothingness.
Jaskier’s room was even more comfortable and warmer than his own and yet the bard had lied, lied so cleverly that he hadn’t noticed it even with his Witcher senses to gain access to his bed.
The only question buzzing in his mind was why and he silently left the room, shut the door behind him as he stood in the hallway and stared into nothingness.
Suddenly the fact that Jaskier had been less and less clothed, the innuendo and the way he looked at him made a lot more sense.
Oh.
The bard wanted him too, at least physically and something warm came lose inside of Eskel’s chest. No, it must be more than that, he knew Jaskier wasn’t shy in any means about flirting and bedding anyone, yet he had chosen a more subtle approach to seduce him. Well, maybe too subtle for him to notice so far, or maybe Eskel’s had just kept his own head in his arse, full of self-doubt and insecurities too frighten to see what was right in front of him.
With renewed vigour and even glee he stalked back to his room and started to make it as inviting and homey as he possibly could. First, he managed to get Lil Bleater back down into her goat pen, which took some struggling as he had pampered the little goat beyond reason, and she was not happy to share with the other goats that called the keep their home. Secondly, he put fresh linens on the bedding, fluffed the mattress and aired the room thoroughly before lighting a warm crackling fire in the hearth and surrounded the bed with soft scented candles that made the whole room smell faintly of wildflowers.
Then he stalked back downstairs, enjoying a long hot soak in the hot springs, and methodically scrubbed himself clean from top to bottom and washed his hair and even put some of the bards on lotion on his skin to make it softer and pleasant to touch.
Excitement and anticipation rushed through him as he made his way back upstairs and waited and like clockwork at the same time as the night before there was a knock on his door.
Smiling to himself Eskel invited Jaskier in and this time he allowed himself to look his fill.
The bard was wearing the same short shirt as the night before, smiling almost shyly and insecure and shuffling from one foot to the other until Eskel gestured for him to come inside. He kicked his boots off and then paused, taking the room in.
“Oh…what’s all this?”
Silently, like the hunter he was Eskel stalked behind the bard and wrapped a hand around his lithe waist. His broad hand splayed out against Jaskiers abdomen and with one swift motion he pressed up against the bard until not even a piece of paper would have been able to fit between them.
He grinned at Jaskiers almost inaudible whine and leaned in close to whisper into the bard’s ear.
“Little songbird…. I was worried about you.”
“Worried?” Jaskiers voice sounded out of breath, his knees shaking against Eskels broad form as the Witcher held him firmly in place with his hand while his other arm came up, fingers dancing over the naked skin on Jaskiers thigh, making the bard shiver.
“Mhm worried indeed. You are not just a guest here at Kaer Morhen but a part of the family.”
Jaskier relaxed against him, and Eskel knew how important those words were to him.
“And as part of this family, as a pack member it is important that you not only feel welcomed but at home.”
Eskel leaned in closer and let his lips drag almost lazily over the bard’s ear shell, only to be rewarded with another whimper.
“So, to make sure you do feel so I went and checked out your room, ready to repair the draft you kept mentioning. Imagine my surprise when I not only found your room in perfect condition but also well-tempered thanks to a magical crystal.”
“Oh…. oh shit.”
Jaskier tried to move, but Eskels hand pressed against his stomach, fingers curling underneath the sheer chemise and brushing over his skin.
“Oh, shit indeed little bard.”
“I… I can explain…ahaha…see….”
“Can you?” Eskels mouth wandered over the bard’s neck, first he pressed a soft kiss behind Jaskiers ear only to then bite down onto his shoulder.
Jaskier moaned, loud and without any shame and pressed his backside hard against Eskel.
“As I see it you have been very naughty little songbird.
“Yes! Fuck Eskel. I have…. I…you should punish me.”
Shaking with eagerness and relief Jaskier almost stumbled over his words as he threw his head back to rest against Eskels shoulder.
Chuckling deep Eskels moved them forward until Jaskiers knees hit the edge of his bed. He gently put a hand onto the bards back and pressed softly, not wanting to do anything to Jaskier that the bard would not like or want but to his absolute delight the younger man went willingly, bracing his hands against the bed, spreading his legs wide and leaning forward until his naked arse was on perfect display for the Witcher.
“Look at you.”
Licking his lips, he pushed Jaskiers chemise further up and over his head until it came resting upon his arms.
“Such a slut, strutting inside my room without any smalls on.”
Jaskier whined, his breath hitching. “Please, Eskel please.”
“Mhm…tell me what you want little bard. Tell me.” His hand softly brushed over Jaskiers back as he pressed a tender kiss between the bard’s shoulder blades.
“Tell me, Jaskier. I will give you everything you should ever so desire.”
There was a small pause in Jaskiers breathing and he twisted his head so he could look at Eskel.
“And what… what if….” The bard audible gulped, his adams apple bobbing in his long neck. “What if I tell you I want you to punish me, use me and wreck me, ruin me for all other men and then….”
The bard sounded wrecked and fucked out already and yet there was a certain bravery in his next words that warmed Eskels heart.
“And then I want you to take care of me, clean me up and shower me in kisses and words of affection and…”
“And?” Eskel pressed another soft kiss to the bards back.
“And keep me. For as long as we both draw breath and do it all over again tomorrow night and the night after that.”
“Mhm…I think that can be arranged songbird.”
Happiness and relief, bright and almost burning rushed through Eskel and for a moment he closed his eyes and just breathed, basking in this glorious moment.
“Now…for your punishment.”
Jaskiers face lit up like a Yule tree, bright and open and Eskel could do nothing but to lean down and press his lips to the bards. He could feel Jaskiers warm smile against his lips before the bard kissed back, first softly but quickly the kiss turned heated.
Carefully Eskel let one of his sharp canines drag over Jaskiers bottom lip and was rewarded with a surprised huff that quickly turned into a hungry moan, followed by the bard’s eager tongue dipping into his mouth. He swallowed Jaskiers gasp down and then straighten his back again, smiling down at the half elf who in return braced himself against the bed once more, wiggling his butt at Eskel who had to suppress a laugh at the gesture.
“So…about my punishment? I think you should spank me.”
“Do you now?”
The amusement was clearly audible in Eskels voice and before the bard could answer he brough his left hand down and slapped the bard hard on his backside.
“Ghnn!”
Jaskier yelped, half from the surprise and half from the delicious pain that the impact brought with it.
“Fuck Eskel! Yes! More!”
“Fuck. Does Geralt know his best friend is a greedy slut?”
Not waiting for an answer Eskel rubbed the cheek he had just smacked, kneading the flesh, and making sure that Jaskiers blood circulation would flow perfectly to help him not get injured for real, before slapping him once more.
The bard whined loudly and threw his head back in pleasure, spreading his legs farther as he pushed his knees onto the bed so that only his butt was hanging from it, making room for Eskel who quickly made short work of his own clothes and pushed in between the bards’ shaking legs, rubbing his hard cock against his thighs as he spanked him again and again until Jaskier breathing came in short angry bursts and he could smell the soft salt of tears in the air.
Gently he kneeled down onto the floor and massaged the red flesh he had just abused, smiling as Jaskier began to rant and beg for more.
“Yes, oh gods yes, I…I…fuck. Please more Eskel. Please.”
“Mhm…can you manage more, little bard?”
Whimpering Jaskier nodded his head almost hysterically.
“Then ask for what you want little slut.”
Eskels warm hands were still kneading at Jaskiers cheeks, fingers brushing over red swollen flesh and thumbs digging almost too hard into the small of his back, sure to leave delicious bruises and marks on the bard’s fair skin.
“Shit…fuck…Eskel. Please…Eskel. I want…. your mouth. Please.”
Humming Eskel used his hands to spread his lover open and let his warm breath softly blow over his puckering hole.
“Do you now? Mhm…and where exactly would you want it?”
Jaskiers mouth fell open as a low whine escaped him, his face flushed with embarrassment and excitement “On my hole. Please Eskel. Please.”
“Mhm, you beg so nicely…and yet…you were supposed to be punished not rewarded.”
Frustrated Jaskier pushed back but Eskel evaded him easily, keeping his face only a breath length away from where Jaskier wanted it.
“Please. Oh gods, please touch me. Please, I do anything you want, I’ll be your good little cock slut please. I’ll warm your cock all day and night and be good for you, sooo good I promise.”
Clicking his tongue Eskel leaned forward, the edge of his lips ghosting over Jaskiers skin, who whined and pushed, his whole body shaking.
“Will you now? Be a good little cock warmer whenever I want it?” Not letting Jaskier answer the Witcher continued. “Get on your knees for me in the middle of the great hall, mhm? Opening your pretty mouth for me and keeping me warm trough dinner?”
They both knew that there was no way they would actually do that, at least not in public places where the others would be forced to see, now Eskels office on the other hand seemed like a good place for such games.
“Or in my office? Under my desk so no one can see you. Keeping yourself hard and ready for me and sucking on me with your pretty lips while I make polite conversation with Geralt?”
Jaskier whimpered, face pressed against the soft linens, already too fucked out to keep himself up completely even though Eskel hadn’t even touched him yet.
“Please, Pleasepleaseplease.”
Rutting against the hard mattress Jaskier kept begging until Eskel finally took pity on him and spread his cheeks farther apart before pushing his face right against Jaskiers hole, inhaling deeply before licking a hot stripe over his rim.
Jaskier keened, loud and desperate and Eskel was sure he could be heard all the way to Geralts room, but he could find it in himself to care. Instead, he focused on bringing the bard as much pleasure as possible while he basked in his scent and taste, earthy and musky and so very delicious on his tongue. Licking and kissing over Jaskiers hole was soon not enough and he wiggled his tongue inside Jaskier to get more of his mouth-watering flavour.
“Oh, fuck Eskel! Meliteles fucking knickers. I…I…oh gods I am so close.”
“Mhm. Not yet. You aren’t allowed to come yet.”
Further proofing his words Eskel reached underneath Jaskier and wrapped one of his large hands around the base of his leaking cock, like a vice, firmly holding him at the root and keeping him from spilling before he deemed it right.
He could smell the tears of overstimulation soon running down Jaskiers face and with a strong motion he flopped the bard onto his back, pushing his legs apart to kneel between them and kissed the wet salt from his face.
“So beautiful little songbird. So good for me.”
Smiling trough his tears Jaskier basked in the compliment, hands reaching for Eskel who easily let himself be dragged down into another filthy kiss, before straddling the bard and grabbing a fistful of his hair, manoeuvring his head right where he wanted it.
“Hold your tits together and open your mouth.”
If one of his former teachers could see how eagerly and willing Jaskier followed orders now they would have been astounded as the bards blue eyes widened in surprise before grabbing shakingly at his own chest and pushing his pecs together, making sure his tuning fork medallion as well as the necklace with his mother’s ring was out of the way and he created a nice surface for Eskels dick to push into, before opening his mouth wide and sticking his tongue out, eager to suck Eskel down his throat.
Making himself comfortable on Jaskiers chest but being careful to not squish him with his full weight Eskel reached over to the nightstand and searching for his oil bottle, letting a few drops drip down onto Jaskiers beautiful chest and smeared it all over him with his thumb, enjoying how his soft chest hair felt against his skin before corking the bottle once more and pushing his dick in the cleft between Jaskier pecs, hissing at the oiled friction and moaning quietly at the feel of Jaskiers eager tongue fishing to lick the precum from his cock head.
Usually, Jaskier didn’t allow himself to deep throat, too careful to not wreck his voice but tonight he eagerly pushed his head forward, letting his mouth fall open wide and slack, greedily taking all of Eskel in and letting him push deep inside his throat, letting himself be used as fresh tears of joy ran down his face.
The stretch of Eskels massive cock was almost too much and Jaskier could feel the slight tear at the corner of his mouth and yet he loved every second of it. He smiled around Eskels prick as the older man fisted his hands into his short chestnut curls and fucked his mouth almost brutally.
“Gods songbird, that mouth on you. I knew it was good for something else than singing. Such a cock sucking whore.”
Jaskier made a soft whimpering sound, pushing his head forward to catch more of Eskel, all of him if he had his way not caring that it would ruin his voice for days. Feeling his release quickly approaching Eskel slowed down and gave them both time to catch their breath.
“Little Slut…. where do you want my seed? Mhm? In your mouth or on your face?” He carefully pulled his cock out of the wet heat of Jaskier mouth, an obscene popping sound ringing trough the room.
“Oh…but I want….”
Jaskiers voice sounded absolutely wrecked and he had to cough twice to clear his throat.
“You want?”
Smiling almost shyly Jaskier looked up to Eskel blue eyes shimmering with passion and tears. “I wanted you to fuck me but if you-“
“Imma stop you right there, sweet songbird.”
Leaning down Eskel pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss to Jaskiers lips. “I can guarantee you that I can come now and still be hard afterwards to fuck you like you deserve. Witcher Stamina.”
“Oh…Ohhhh!”
Eagerly nodding Jaskier gestured to his face and chest. “On me then please!”
Chuckling at Jaskier enthusiasm Eskel gripped his own cock, holding it right over Jaskiers face, the tip just close enough for the bard to lick at, as he started to stroke himself.
The heavy smell of lust that emanated from Jaskier was thick in his nostrils, thick and sweet like sirup and it didn’t take him long before he spilled his hot seed all over the bard’s face and chest.
“Fuck yes! Eskel! Give it to me. Mark me up! Please make me yours!”
Whining Jaskier let his eyes falls shut as Eskels hands found his hair and again and with a hard grip his head was stretched backwards as the Witcher leaned down to lick his own cum from Jaskiers face and torso.
“Mhm sweet…sweet little bard.”
“Oh god…I can’t…Oh god…Please let me cum Eskel…. please…”
“Just a little bit more sweetheart. Hold on a little bit longer for me, yes? You can do it. Mhm…”
“Yes…yes…for you…all for you Eskel.”
Scenting the air Eskel made sure that his lover was not in any real distress before finishing his clean up, licking and sucking at Jaskiers skin and then pressing his weight down into the bard, capturing his mouth in a deep filthy kiss, pushing some of his own cum into Jaskiers mouth.
Jaskiers tongue swiped into his mouth, greedy for the taste of spent and the Witcher smiled into the kiss, nipping, and licking deep into Jaskiers mouth, hands brushing over the bards’ arms to pin him down.
With a hefty moan Eskel reached for the oil bottle once again, moving the bard how he wanted in simultaneously until the Witcher lied on his back, Jaskier straddling his thighs, his red swollen cock heavily leaking against his stomachs, his balls hard and heavy brushing against Eskel.
“Lean forward little slut.”
Biting at his own lips, shaking with anticipation Jaskier did as he was told, bracing his hands onto Eskels shoulders, and leaning forward, spreading his legs to give Eskel access to dip his hand underneath his prick and push one oiled finger into his hole without any hesitation.
“Sweet mother of fuck!”
The bard pushed his head down into the crook of Eskels neck, whimpering while trying to push back onto Eskels finger, that tenderly rubbed over the sweet spot inside of him.
“Oh gods…. oh gods…you are going to ruin me.”
Smiling Eskel inserted a second finger, making sure to press down onto Jaskiers prostate while scissoring them, making sure the bard was well stretched for his massive cock.
“Mhm but that’s what you wanted little bard, me ruining you for all other men.”
“Already…. ghnn…. oh fuck…already am. All yours.”
“Mhm…Yes…all mine.” Eskel moved his head to suck and bite at Jaskier neck, leaving deep red and purple bruises all over his skin, from the tip of his ears down to his collarbones, marking him up for all the other Witchers to see later.
“Mine.”
Jaskier did not seem to mind that he laid his claim, if anything he fucked himself harder on Eskels fingers as his moaning grew louder, echoing through the room.
“More…please…please more.”
Humming in agreement Eskel pushed a third finger inside Jaskiers quivering hole, his thumb pushing against the seam on Jaskiers balls, gently brushing over the sensitive skin.
He could feel the heavy flow of drool leaving Jaskiers mouth as he panted against his chest, smiling at the sensation, as the bard keened when he pushed a fourth finger inside of him. He paused for a second, giving Jaskier time to adjust to the intense stretch, both knowing he needed it if he was to take Eskel fully.
“Gods songbird. You are so beautiful. So perfect for me.”
He could feel Jaskiers smile against his skin as he slowly started to move his fingers, pushing and rubbing constantly against Jaskiers sweet spot, making sure to spread as much oil as possible inside of him. He was sure that by now the heavy scent of sex could be smelled well outside the room, covering the hallway like a heavy fog but he didn’t not care. If anything, it made him feel proud and happy that he was able to render Geralts bard, no, his bard to a speechless panting mess of overstimulation.
“Are you ready for me little bird?”
Jaskier did not answer right away, it took him a moment to raise his head, lust clearly visible on his face, mouth hanging open.
“I…give me a minute…I…. unless I am allowed to cum on your fingers?”
Chuckling Eskel almost took pity on him, almost.
“Next time little bird. Tonight, I want you to cum on my cock, and my cock only. Is that all right?”
Whining Jaskier took a deep breath, holding still for a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts. He looked down at Eskels open face and reached for his cheek, thumb brushing lovingly over the scars on his face. He knew that if he would ask Eskel would let him cum right then and there, would never do anything he would not also want and desire, would take care of him in any way possible.
“Okay. Okay…just wait…”
He leaned forward, exchanging a few soft kisses with the Witcher, who did not move his hand at all, giving the bard as much time as he needed, smiling into each of the kisses, as he softly caressed Jaskiers back with his other hand.
Finally, after what seemed like hours Jaskier straightens his back and nodded, smiling down at his Witcher.
Immediately Eskel started to move his fingers again, keeping close watch at Jaskiers breathing, the sound of his heartbeat and scent, stopping shortly when he felt the bard was about to peek.
“Ready for my cock songbird?”
“I…oh….I was ready….fuck…an hour ago.”
Laughing Eskel gripped the base of his own cock, withdraw his fingers from Jaskier and pushed his leaking tip against Jaskiers puffy rim.
He was about to guide Jaskier down slowly when the bard moved and speared himself onto Eskels prick until he was completely filled, hissing, and moaning at the sensation, head thrown back in passions.
Eskels eyes went wide at the beautiful vision above him. Licking his lips, he took his bard in, basking in the view of his kiss swollen mouth, the rosy hue in his cheeks, his dishevelled hair, the way he breathed and moved above him, his pretty cock wiggling against his own abdomen and the clear and bright love in his tear shimmering eyes.
“Jaskier. I…gods. You are so beautiful. Can’t believe you are mine. Can’t believe you are letting me love you like this.”
The bard whined, loud and slow as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Yours, please Eskel, I need you so much. Please.”
Gathering both of Jaskiers hands in his own, Eskel twisted them back, held them tight behind the bards back as he sat up, softly pressing kisses onto Jaskiers neck and shoulder.
“Move songbird. Show me what a good little slut you are for me.”
Panting Jaskier swallowed hard, drool leaking out of his mouth and with an intense hunger he started to move, back stretched, and curved backwards, his fingers laced with Eskels as he fucked himself hard and fast on the Witchers cock.
They both were aware that it would not take them long now to reach their climax, too worked up, lost in their desire and pleasure.
“Eskel…I want….I need.”
“Tell me songbird, tell me.”
Whimpering Jaskier cleared his throat, raising his hips until Eskel almost slipped out of him, only to push down hard again and again until the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing and sweaty flesh slapping against flesh.
“I need…please…bite me…. mark me…I need them all to see that I am yours.”
“Fuck! Jaskier! Go on. Cum for me little bird.”
Fulfilling his partners demand Eskel bit down hard onto the joint of Jaskiers shoulder and neck, not caring if his sharp canines would penetrate the skin, enjoying the way his bard shouted his name as he spilled his seed between them, leaving a warm and sticky mess.
Jaskiers eyes rolled back into his head as he went boneless, sinking against Eskels chest, who released his arms and used his own to hold the bard upright, fucking him trough his orgasm for a few more minutes until he himself reached his peek, deep inside his lover, filling him up.
Slowly he pulled out and flipped them around, making sure Jaskier was comfortable on his back before pushing the bards’ legs up and onto his shoulders, greedily sucking his own spent out of the bard’s hole, pearly creamy drops leaking onto the linens underneath them
Jaskier let himself be used further, not able anymore to fathom any words, reduced to quiet whimpers and whines as Eskel ate him out once more. He didn’t move when Eskel got up and heated the water in his washbasin with a quick burst of Igni, he didn’t even realise he was being washed clean with the warm rag Eskel brought over until he found himself sitting up, leaning against Eskels broad chest and a cup of warm tea was pressed against his lips.
“Drink.”
Acting on instinct the bard emptied the mug, the tea warm and thick with honey bringing back some of his exhausted energy before he was hand fed some grapes and cheese.
“Mhm…. Jaskier?”
“Yes, my love?”
“You back with me?”
Sighing happily Jaskier nodded, resting his head back against Eskels shoulders, letting himself be held and petted as the Witcher pressed carefully tender kisses against the bruises and bitemark on his neck.
“Yeah…yeah…thank you.”
“No…no…. thank you.”
Wrapping the covers around them, Eskel carefully laid his bard down, holding him close and brushing gentle hands over his back.
“Why don’t you sleep my sweet songbird, hm? At least for a nap? And then after I can carry you down to the hot springs for a nice long soak, would you like that?”
Smiling Jaskier nodded, eyes already closed and head resting on Eskels chest, the Witchers fingers caringly brushing trough his hair.
“Yes, please…love you.”
Flabbergasted Eskel felt as if his heart skipped a beat. He was about to answer with his own confession when his Witcher senses told him that the bard had fallen asleep already and with a soft smile he pressed a kiss to Jaskiers forehead, knowing that he would have time to tell him later, and later again for the rest of their days.