“Hm, you might be right after all. You look absolutely garish,” Geralt teased as he looked over the faux goatee. It was nearly finished. There was just a few more marks to make. The black was quite the contrast to Jaskier’s natural chestnut. A blind man couldn’t be convinced of its authenticity. It didn’t look terrible. Did it look silly? Very. Geralt was not-so-silently chuckling to himself as he finished filling it in. Was the sight enough to deter him? Not even a little.
Jaskier’s fingers along his neck were a small distraction but one he greedily welcomed. He enjoyed the feeling of his lover’s fingers through his hair as much he loved to run his own fingers through Jaskier’s. When they were falling asleep was his favorite time to do it. He’d caught himself more than once waking up with his nose buried in that hair. Jaskier always had different scents attached to him, depending on what he had been up to. Thanks to his enhanced senses, Geralt could pinpoint every single one but the real fun was in finding them all.
When Jaskier turned that sort of attention on him? It was hard to focus on anything else. But Geralt finished his work valiantly. “There, done,” he proclaimed with confidence as he dropped the marker into one of Jaskier’s pants pockets. “Even with all your wriggling.”
He settled his hands on Jaskier’s hips, resting naturally in one of their favorite spots. “I’d like to put those muscles of yours to the test. I’m sure you could break a sweat trying to pin me down. Try hiding that sausage in the witcher’s pantry?” If Jaskier needed him to be more obvious about what he was asking for, Geralt would roll his eyes. But he’d say it outright if he had to. He thought he would try being coy about asking his boyfriend to fuck him first. And if coy didn’t work, maybe whispering naughtily in Jaskier’s ears would make the message clear.