What You Really Want

Summary: Geralt regrets how he spoke to Jaskier. After all, the bard might be the only friend willing to put up with him for any stretch of time
Warning(s): Spanking; spoilers up to and including episode six of season one of The Witcher; violent situations; sexual scenes between two men; possessive, dominating behaviour
Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier
Author’s Note: Yes, I’ve changed the setting slightly so they can have Roach with them

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Geralt regretted the way he spoke to Jaskier almost as soon as the words left his mouth. But all that sense of regret did was make him angry. He wasn’t used to regret. Wasn’t used to feeling a need to apologise for words he’d said in the heat of the moment.

There was a reason he’d spent so many years travelling alone, apart from Roach. He wasn’t good with people. Didn’t have friends. Barely interacted with the women he slept with for money. He didn’t form emotional attachments to people for precisely this reason.

Well. If he was honest with himself, completely honest with himself, deep down where he wouldn’t let anyone in, he didn’t form attachments to people because of how he was treated as a Witcher. Most of them saw him as little better than the very monsters he hunted. They used his skills, but never welcomed him into their towns.

This wasn’t the first time he’d got angry with Jaskier and then come to regret the words he’d said. But the other time, Jaskier had at least forgotten how Geralt had spoken to him. Or if he hadn’t forgotten it, he’d acted as if he had; which amounted to the same thing, really.

There was no djinn attack to give them both that time now, though.

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered. He patted Roach’s side and the horse nickered softly. “I get it,” he muttered to his horse. “I’ll talk to him.” He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to apologise, but maybe if he offered to listen to one of the bard’s songs…or maybe just told him some more stories that Jaskier could put into song for other people to listen to.

By the time Geralt turned round, Jaskier was gone. Probably to go and get the story of the dragon from the others. Geralt frowned at the stab of…jealousy?...that went through him at the thought that Jaskier might get the story from one of the others. “Fuck.” The exclamation this time carried a whole wealth of feeling in that one word. He’d assumed Yennefer was the one he was truly attracted to; but this sense of jealousy was making him second-guess who it really was he was attracted to.

“Stay here,” Geralt said to the horse, giving Roach’s flank a quick pat before he walked back the way he’d come, listening for the sound of the bard talking. When he heard the conversation, it made him wince; because Jaskier sounded subdued. He was asking questions, but not the same way he normally did. His voice was quiet. Hesitant, even.

Geralt winced as a sense of guilt went through him and he stepped into the group of people. There was no sign of Yennefer; but then again, he hadn’t expected her to stick around. Perhaps he’d made some bad choices when it came to her and he’d pay for those later down the line, but for right now…there was someone here he’d hurt who he did have the chance to make things up to.

As Geralt stepped towards them, he locked gazes with Borch and nodded in respect to the dragon. He then strode over to Jaskier, who was speaking some nonsense to the two women, but flinched obviously when Geralt came closer.

“We need to talk,” Geralt stated, interrupting the conversation.

“No,” Jaskier replied. “No, I think you said everything already, Geralt. And this is me, not bothering you.” He turned back to Tea and Vea and smiled. “Did you give any thought to letting me go with you on your adventures? I promise I won’t eat too much. Just being in your beautiful company will be sustenance enough.”

Geralt growled, low in his throat, and let his hand fall heavily onto Jaskier’s shoulder. He bared his teeth at the two women, but it wasn’t a smile. “The bard won’t bother you again.” He began to pull Jaskier away from the group.

“Don’t manhandle me!” Jaskier hissed. “You’re embarrassing me!” As soon as they were away from the group, he pulled himself free and made a show of brushing himself off. His face red, he continued, “You can’t just walk up and drag me away when you’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m a burden you wish didn’t exist!”

“I never said those words.”

“You might as well have,” Jaskier responded, his tone turning injured. “You’d much rather have one of them, or Yennefer, as a travelling companion. Anyone’s better than the bard that turned you famous. Am I right?”

“Fuck.” Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s shoulders and he pulled the other man in. He crashed his lips against the bard’s, the kiss hard and teeth clashing together.

Jaskier stood frozen for a few seconds and then gave Geralt a shove, making him let go. Tongue flicking out over his lips, he declared, “That’s not how you kiss me.”

Geralt felt his eyes darken. He stared at Jaskier’s slightly swollen lips and ground out, “Enlighten me. How do I kiss you?”

Jaskier eyed him warily, fingers brushing over his own lips. “Are you serious?”

“Did the fact I just kissed you somehow escape your notice?”

The bard walked forward and reached up, grasping hold of Geralt’s arms. He then leaned forward and brushed his lips over Geralt’s, the kiss warm and light.

Geralt growled and shoved Jaskier against his body, so that the bard could feel how his cock was reacting to the kiss. He then smacked the bard’s bottom; not as hard as he could, but enough for the crack of hand against pants to echo through the area.

Jaskier yelped and tried to pull back, but Geralt held him too tight. “What was that for?”

“You were going to leave,” Geralt responded.

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Geralt delivered another smack and felt Jaskier jump in response, before the bard complained, “That hurt.”

“That was the intention.” Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s bottom roughly and possessively. He didn’t know if Borch, Tea and Vea could see them from where they were standing, but he didn’t care. He pulled back from the kiss and pressed a harder one to the bard’s neck, biting and sucking on the skin until he left a mark behind.

Jaskier whimpered and gripped at Geralt’s clothing, as if he was using that to hold him up.

Letting out a low growl, Geralt pulled Jaskier firmer against him. He left a matching mark on the other side of Jaskier’s neck, then licked the bright red mark he’d left.

Jaskier looked fully dazed when Geralt pulled away. The witcher smiled in satisfaction, stroking his thumb over the bard’s swollen lips. “That’s a good look on you.” He glided his fingers down between Jaskier’s legs. Gripped his cock through his pants.

Jaskier jerked back, moving his hands almost protectively in front of him. “No.”

Geralt paused, head cocking to one side. “No?” It wasn’t in him to force someone who was unwilling. Jaskier had woken a wilder side to him than Geralt was used to. Instincts wanted him to snatch the bard to him. Throw Jaskier over Roach’s back and gallop away with the bard, to where he could claim him fully. His whole body trembled with that almost primal need.

“Yes.” Jaskier frowned. “I mean no. I mean wait.”

“Do you need time to think about it?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier’s frown grew. “That would be an easier question to answer if I knew exactly what I was supposed to be thinking about.” His hands crept back to his bottom, rubbing gingerly, before he turned a full pout on Geralt. “Definitely no if you’re going to spank me again.”

“Then don’t threaten to leave.”

Jaskier frowned. “You don’t want me to leave?”

“I don’t like repeating myself.” Geralt advanced a step towards Jaskier, then moved further forward when the bard didn’t retreat. “And this is a taste of what to expect if it happens again.” He grabbed Jaskier by the shoulders, pulling the bard flush against his chest, and began to smack, steadily and firmly. Not as hard as the first two smacks he’d delivered and nowhere near his full strength, but they were strong enough to make Jaskier wriggle and yelp.

A full dozen smacks on each side of Jaskier’s bottom and then Geralt stopped, gripping the bard by the neck. “Now that that’s settled, you can make your decision. If you feel the same as I do. If you do, I’ll take you back to camp. Fuck you senseless.” He squeezed Jaskier’s bottom with his other hand.

“So you don’t want me to leave you…and you want to have sex with me,” Jaskier said. “Am I understanding this right?” His whimper was pronounced as his backside was squeezed firmly.

“Do I need to draw you a map?”

Jaskier pulled back and stared into Geralt’s eyes. His own were bright; whether with tears or emotion, Geralt didn’t know. “Okay then, White Wolf. Do what you want with me.”

It was all the permission Geralt needed and with a growl like a wild beast, he acted.

The End