Chapter Text
Jaskier sighed happily, sinking down a little lower in the hot water as the door finally thumped shut behind Geralt. He’d been starting to think the witcher was never going to let him get some much-needed private time.
He could always go look for another interested party instead… but it had been a long day, and a long trip before today, and he was too sleepy and relaxed now to entertain the notion of actually climbing out of the tub and putting clothes on again. And it just felt so good to be properly clean, he really didn’t feel like getting sweaty all over again.
No, this would do just fine. It had been far, far too long since he’d had a chance to indulge in this properly anyway, instead making do with occasional rushed, stolen moments to himself before Geralt grumped about taking too long to break camp in the mornings. Those were almost more a necessity than a pleasure, and Jaskier had been looking forward to this bath for more than one reason all bloody day.
The tub, though large, was unfortunately somewhat shallower than he preferred, and he knew he wouldn’t have quite as much time as he’d like before the water started to cool as a result— although the low walls had certainly afforded him quite the view of Geralt taking his turn bathing first, something Jaskier was firmly not thinking about at all right now, because one didn’t think about one’s friends in that manner, at least not too often; and anyway the witcher was clearly not interested in him that way at all. Unfortunately.
Pushing that thought away and simply letting his mind go blank, Jaskier closed his eyes and let his chin drop, trailing a hand lazily over his chest, the light touch of his own fingertips setting a little flush of goosebumps rising on his skin despite the warmth of the water. Biting his bottom lip with a quiet hum, his hips shifting a little and his cock already starting to thicken with anticipation, Jaskier ran his hand down his stomach, the coarse, curled hair tickling and scratching pleasantly at his palm as he went. He brought his other hand up to his chest at the same time, thumbing lightly at one nipple with another sigh, teasing himself a little by skirting his fingers around the base of his shaft. Gently grinding the heel of his palm against his belly just above his cock, he ran his fingers over his balls for a moment or two, loose and low in the heat of the water; before thrusting up just a little with a quiet groan and hooking his thumb over the base of his cock.
Still toying lazily at his nipple, Jaskier let his eyes drift open just enough to watch himself, the view only slightly distorted by the ripples from his own movement as he ran his open hand up the length his now-stiff cock, tightening his stomach just to feel the press of his own hard heat up into his palm. He circled his palm over the head with a little shiver of pleasure before finally closing his hand properly around himself and giving a slow, deliberate stroke downwards from tip to base, hips twitching up into his own grip again.
Jaskier kept stroking, but slowly, his thoughts beginning to wander idly as he worked himself higher, past memories and future fantasies of long nights and pleasant company both mingling easily into one another in his mind; and if large, broad-shouldered men featured rather prominently, well, he’d had more than a few of those in the past after all. The water sloshed around him as he shifted, spreading his knees wider and bracing his feet better to thrust up into his hand with languid rolls of his hips. His breathing was already starting to come faster as pent-up need coiled tighter behind his cock; and he slid his other hand down, half-cupping his balls again with a huffed moan. Pressing one finger over the sensitive area just under them, he slipped it lower, rubbing lightly at the rim of his hole and pumping his cock a little harder.
He couldn’t go too fast in the water like this without straying into unpleasant chafing territory, but he made up for it by squeezing harder, raising his cock up from his belly until the taut, flushed head was poking up out of the water above his fist. Eyes fixed on himself so he could watch it when his quickly nearing release erupted, his breath coming in short, sharp pants as the pressure built and tightened in his gut, Jaskier pressed the tip of his middle finger inside himself with a whimpered moan, still massaging that spot under his balls while he fisted his cock just a little faster— he was almost there—
The door banged open at the other end of the room and Geralt walked in. “Bard, where did—”
He cut off abruptly and pulled up short as Jaskier let out a strangled yelp, his imminent orgasm hitting even as he sat bolt upright again, splashing water over the sides of the wooden tub and onto the floor—
And then Geralt just stood there staring at him while he came, amber eyes wide with surprise and unfairly perfect lips slightly parted, and Jaskier flushed so hard he thought his hair might catch fire, trying desperately not to gasp or shudder too openly, his cock throbbing in his still-tight grip and pulsing spurts of come into the water between his shaking legs. With his head spinning from a confusing mix of pleasure and mortification, his cheeks flaming and his heart racing, Jaskier, for once, had absolutely no idea what to say. He did open his mouth with the vague idea that he should snap something to the effect of Geralt needing to learn how knocking worked, but closed it again almost immediately at the realization that he wasn’t entirely sure what might actually come out of his mouth if he spoke just then. Not with Geralt’s gaze fixed on him like that and the aftershocks of orgasm still shivering through his body.
Not with the unexpectedly deep yearning that had sprung up in his chest, so strong it was painful, for Geralt to keep walking, come closer, and just touch him. Kiss him. Shove his cock in his mouth. Anything, really, would have been absolutely fine with Jaskier just then; and he knew suddenly, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he wouldn’t be able to pretend to himself any longer that he wasn’t absolutely, completely, utterly smitten with the expressionless stone of a man standing silently just inside the doorway. The one who had never shown even a hint of interest towards him in return.
It felt like that awkward, frozen, hopeful moment stretched forever, but he knew it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds at the very most before Geralt turned around and left again without saying a word, the door closing behind him with a quiet thump. Slumping down in the tub again, Jaskier closed his eyes and wiped a wet hand over his face with a shaky groan.
“Fuck.”