The Proposal

Chapter 5

When Jaskier woke early the next morning, it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. Curled up in his childhood bed with the sunlight pouring through the glass balcony door and—Jaskier choked—a strong, muscular arm wrapped snugly around his waist. Jaskier lay frozen, afraid to move as he realised that Geralt—his boss, for gods' sake—had cuddled into him at some point during the night. He could feel the warm puffs of Geralt's breaths tickle the back of his neck while stray white hairs tickled his nose and cheek. Just when he thought that his morning couldn't get any worse, Geralt sighed and shifted, pressing his hips against Jaskier's rear and—

"No," he whimpered to himself as he felt the familiar ache between his legs begin to grow. Never mind going to jail for fraud; if Geralt woke up like this, Jaskier dared not think how he'd react if he saw that. Damn his manhood for betraying him at the worst possible time. Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door and Geralt stirred.

"Jaskier, answer the phone," he mumbled, still half-asleep, releasing his grip on Jaskier and turning over. Taking his chance, Jaskier slipped out of bed and headed towards the door, paused, then hurried over to the corner of the room to retrieve his grandmother's patchwork quilt before tossing it over the bed again. Geralt blinked sleepily as someone knocked on the door again and this time, they heard Jaskier's mother call out to them.

"Rise and shine, sleepy heads!" her muffled voice cried. "I brought you breakfast!"

Geralt sat up suddenly and looked around the room in a confused panic before his shoulders sagged. "Fuck. I forgot I was here." Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he frowned when he caught sight of Jaskier and his tented boxers. "What the hell, Jaskier?"

"I'm sorry, it's the morning!" he hissed, pulling on a pair of jeans and tucking his erection into the waistband. "Don't tell me it doesn't happen to you, too."

"Are you decent?" his mother called. "Can I come in?"

"Just a second!" Jaskier cried, zipping up his jeans and padding over to the bedroom door. Pulling open the door, he was greeted with his mother, beaming at him, holding a large tray with a continental breakfast. "Morning, mum."

"Good morning, love. Did you sleep well?" Mary breezed into the room before Jaskier could answer and beelined straight for Geralt's bedside. "Morning, Geralt! How are you feeling today? Well rested, I hope."

"Uh, yeah," Geralt replied thickly, pressing his back against the headboard and taking the proffered tray from Mary's hands. "Oh, you didn't have to do this..."

"I know, but I wanted to," she smiled. "Now, Jaskier told me what happened to your suitcase. We can't have you walking around with just the clothes on your back, so Grammy and I are taking you on a shopping trip after breakfast. Our treat."

Geralt shook his head. "There's really no need..."

"I know, but I want to," she stressed. She pressed a quick kiss to Jaskier's cheek and strode out of the room. "Grammy and I will be waiting downstairs for you when you're ready!"

When Jaskier closed the bedroom door behind her, Geralt mused, "I see where your inability to listen to anything that I have to say comes from."

"Be nice," Jaskier chided, grabbing the cup of hot chocolate from the tray. "And she has a point: you can't wear one set of clothes the entire time you're here—unless you'd like to borrow some of mine?"

"I doubt they'd fit me."

Tossing off the bedcovers he rose to his feet, stretched and yawned. The taut muscles on his broad, pale shoulders twisted as he stretched, cracking his joints in the process. Jaskier caught himself staring and quickly turned away before Geralt noticed. "You want to grab a shower first?"