Siren's Call

A Conclusion

                Geralt sat staring at the remaining embers of the fire, occasionally glancing over to where Jaskier lay sprawled out over both bedrolls. The sun filtered down and lit up his face, giving it an almost unearthly glow. Geralt supposed it was oddly appropriate.

Normally he would have woken Jaskier up long ago, he already had everything packed up and the sun was well up but the man seemed exhausted and he figured the best thing to do would be to let him sleep. Plus if Jaskier was still in anything like the mood he was last night, it was simple self-preservation to avoid waking him before he was ready to get up.

He glanced over at Jaskier again, and was startled to see blue eyes staring back at him. There was a somewhat awkward pause, and he wondered if he should look away and pretend nothing had ever happened, that Jaskier had never left.

Jaskier didn't look away, and he couldn't bring himself to.

"Hello." Jaskier said softly, and then flushed, seemingly embarrassed at realizing they'd been staring at each other for an unreasonably long amount of time. It was, quite truthfully, one of the more adorable things Geralt had ever seen.

He cleared his throat, and went back to staring at the fire. "Hey."

He could hear Jaskier rustling around and getting to his feet, but he didn't glance back over, didn't want to watch him leave.

Jaskier sat next to him, and he looked over in surprise to find him staring at him.

"Did you mean...all that stuff you said last night?" Jaskier asked bluntly, his face shuttered.

Geralt wasn't sure which part Jaskier was talking about, but it didn't really matter. "Hmmm. Yes."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for another moment, and Jaskier shifted closer to Geralt in a way he probably thought was subtle. He smelled of nervousness and a faint tinge of hopeful happiness.

Geralt held very still.

Roach, on the other side of the clearing, snorted in a way that sounded suspiciously exasperated.

Jaskier shifted again, moving subtly closer, glancing over at Geralt and then away.

When Geralt didn't move away from him, it seemed to embolden him. He was close enough that Geralt could feel his body heat, but not close enough to touch. The nervous smell was practically pouring off him now, but to Geralt's relief he didn't smell any fear.

"Uh, Geralt....."

Geralt looked at Jaskier. "Yes?"

"Please don't punch me."

Geralt blinked at him in utter confusion. "Why would I-"

Jaskier leaned forward and quickly shoved his lips to Geralt's, leaving them there for a few seconds before moving his head back and studying Geralt's face.

A small bomb went off in Geralt's brain.

"Ah. Hmm."

Jaskier abruptly started to back away. "Look I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I just thought...."

Geralt gently reached out and grabbed the back of Jaskier's head, keeping him from moving back any farther. He should really talk this out, see what Jaskier was looking for, make sure he wasn't too emotionally compromised by his recent traumatic experience to think straight.

He leaned forward, pulling Jaskier to him, and kissed him. Jaskier went stiff before melting into him, kissing him with a fervor that was almost painful, biting at his lower lip and slipping his tongue between his teeth. Geralt let Jaskier push his shoulders to the ground, grinning up at him as Jaskier smiled back, still a little tentative.

They didn't end up breaking camp until well past noon that day.