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Jaskier eased open the door to his room, wincing as it creaked, and poked his head out into the dark hallway. He turned to look left, then right, confirming the dimly lit corridor was empty. It was late - all the other guests at the inn should be asleep by now - but still, he would be careful. Discrete, as Geralt liked to say, no need to announce it to the whole town, he'd growl.
Jaskier tiptoed into the hallway, feet bare, careful not to make a sound. He wanted to dash down the hallway, of course: to skip with excitement all the way to the end of the inn where Geralt's room was. It had been too long since he'd been in the witcher's bed. Well, actually, it had been since the night before, and the night before that, but before that, it had been too long. With Yennefer the sorceress staying in the little inn too, it felt to Jaskier as if he never got a moment alone with his friend and sometimes lover.
Yennefer, Jaskier scowled to himself. Oh sure, she was smart, quick-witted, powerful, intoxicatingly beautiful, with those mesmerizing eyes, her soft pink mouth, golden skin... Jaskier absently stopped halfway down the hall, lost in thought, then shook himself back to sense. Yes alright, she was all that, he thought, but she was also a pain in the arse. It was because of her that he and Geralt had to keep their rendezvous secret: the fiery sorceress would surely curse them both into oblivion if she found out. She did not play well with others.
Still, it was a little exciting to be sneaking around. His heart was pounding as he got closer to Geralt's door. He felt his skin prickling with anticipation - and cold. He had opted for just his briefs and a light dressing gown - less wasted time taking off clothes if he was already almost naked - but he was getting chilly sneaking down the draughty hallway. He quickly scurried up to Geralt's door, and turned the handled, eager to be inside.
The door didn't budge. It was locked. Oh Geralt, Jaskier mused, the games you play. Without missing a beat, Jaskier pulled out a little two-pronged tuning fork from his dressing gown pocket and bent down to pick the lock. It was tricky in the dark hallway. If only I had brought a light, he thought.
Suddenly, a flame flickered into life beside his face - coming not from a candle, but from the end of a long, slender index finger, light up by magic. Jaskier shrieked like a maid and spun around. Still bent over, he came face to face with a pair of beautiful, soft, shapely breasts, loosely covered by a silky black gown. "Hello Jaskier," the owner of the breasts said. Jaskier slowly raised his eyes, taking in soft gold skin, dramatic collarbones exposed by the off the shoulder black gown, long inky curls, slender neck, strong jaw, that pink mouth. He was already well aware of who he would find when he met her violet eyes: Yennefer, the sorceress. "What might you be doing here?" she asked.
"I'm ffffaaa---" he dragged out the sound, willing his brain to come up with something - anything - that sounded plausible. I'm farming owls - no, rediculous; I'm following a ghost - no, not likely; I'm fixing this locked door by breaking it open- maybe? "I'm ffffffaaa---cked," he said finally, his brain sputtering to a halt without a solution. "Shit. I'm fucked."
Yennefer crossed her arms and pursed her lips - though, with amusement or annoyance, Jaskier couldn't tell. "Well, not yet," she said. "Though that does seem to have been the intention." She looked him up and down, from his bare feet, to his red linen briefs, and up his naked chest, his pink nipples hard in the cold night air. "It seems like you're here to sneak into Geralt's room after dark," she said, pressing a slender finger against his chest and snaking it up along his breastbone, to the base of his neck and then along his jugular. Jaskier swallowed, hard. "So," she said, letting this new information filter through her thoughts. "It seems you're the reason I didn't see our witcher these past two nights."
Jaskier shivered as she slid her hand back down his chest towards his briefs. He battered her hand away and stood up straight, gathering his dressing gown around him to provide some modesty. As he lifted his shoulders, he remembered how short she was - especially without her scary witchy boots. He was actually quite a bit taller than her; he could have put his chin on the top of her little head. He was probably a fair bit stronger too, magic aside. Yes, he thought, she's not all that terrifyingly sexy and powerful. And she doesn't own Geralt. I have as much right to sneak into his room at night as she does. For I am Julian Alfred Pankrats - human, bard, and occasional bedfellow of the White Wolf. I will not be intimidated.
"Yes," he said, tossing his head back defiantly. "I came for Geralt, as I have many nights before. Does that bother you?" he asked. "That he likes to share his bed with me? That he likes the way I touch him, and that thing where I lick his fingertips? Do you even know he likes that?"
"Oh quiet," Yennefer snapped, her eyes flashing dark purple. "We've made love on the tallest of the Kestrel Mountains, and at the bottom of the ocean breathing only through magic. Don't lecture me on pleasure, bard. Of course I know about the fingertip thing. Now, get out of my way."
"Ho no," said Jaskier, holding out both arms and blocking her path to the doorway. "I got here first. So you can just take your sexy black hair, your scary storm eyes, and your lilac and gooseberries, and go back to your room and sleep alone tonight."
Yennefer held a hand up ready to strike, little flames flickering at her fingertips. "Don't make me hurt you," she said, "Because I would dearly like to."
Just then, the door to Geralt's room flew open. The witcher stood in the doorway: cat eyes flashing, bare chest heaving, wearing nothing but a little bath towel around his waist. "Get inside, both of you," he growled. Jaskier nearly fell backward as he scurried in, Yennefer walking serenely behind him. Geralt slammed the door shut and turned to berate them both. "Did you intend to wake up the whole place with your bickering?" he seethed. "Or just me?"
"Just you, Geralt dearest," said Jaskier, in what he hoped was an endearing singsong voice.
Yennefer was not chastened at all. "I'll ask the questions," she said. She stalked across the wooden floor of the bedroom, arms crossed, her eyes flicking from Geralt to Jaskier and back again. "So, how long has this been going on?" she asked.
Geralt looked away and ran a hand through his ashen hair. "Ah, fuck," he said.
"Longer than he's known you," Jaskier said, stepping between them and puffing out his chest. He felt suddenly protective of Geralt. His heart raced and his blood ran hot in his veins. If she was going to curse the witcher, she'd have to go through him first.
Yennefer looked over Jaskier's shoulder at Geralt, raising an eyebrow as if to ask: is that true? Geralt tilted his head forward, to give her a small, reluctant nod.
"Well," she snapped, looking away from them both towards the flickering fire by the end of the bed. "I don't mind, I just would have liked to have been informed."
"Ah Yen, don't be like - - wait what?" Geralt faltered.
Jaskier felt his racing heart stutter and stop in surprise as well. "Sorry," said the bard, "But did you just say you don't mind?" Was it possible, he thought, were they really going to get away with it all unscathed?
Yennefer kept her gaze averted, the slightest red glow rising on her cheeks. "I'm not a prude," she said, "and I don't mind sharing you on occasion, if it's only with Jaskier."
Geralt took a step back, one calloused hand rubbing his rough jaw in surprise. "Well, this is... unexpected." he said, "But it seems we don't have a problem then."
Jaskier's heart started to race again. He felt excited, victorious, reckless even. He decided to push them both a little more, just to see where this would take them. "Oh, but there is a problem," he said, taking a step towards Geralt so he stood squarely between them. "We're both here now," he said. "So Geralt has to choose which one of us he wants tonight."
"Oh, err," Geralt mumbled. Now it was the witcher's turn to look flustered. He looked from Jaskier, standing tall, his chest puffed out, quietly flexing his muscles; to Yennefer, slowly walking towards them both, her black silk gown slipping further off her shoulders, her violet eyes sparkling.
"Come now, Geralt," Jaskier coaxed. "You have to choose."
"Or," said Yennefer, her voice soft and rich like honey. "I have a compromise to suggest." As she drew closer to Jaskier, she ran her hand along his shoulder and down his arm, to take his hand lightly in hers. Then she pulled him with her as she walked backward towards Geralt. She kept her eyes on Jaskier, her pink tongue flicking out to lick her bottom lip as she traced her eyes down across his bare chest, taking him in. Geralt was watching her, his amber eyes transfixed. He reached one hand out to snatch her by the waist as she came closer and pull her back against him with a soft thud. Jaskier, pulled gently by Yennefer, stumbled towards them both, unsure if this was a dream or reality. This can't possibly be about to really happen, he thought.
Yennefer crept her fingers up Jaskier's arm then slipped her hand behind his neck, pulling his head down towards hers. Her other hand she slipped behind her, between Geralt's thighs. The witcher groaned and pulled her harder against him. Jaskier let out a little murmur of pleasure too, as the sorceress pressed her lips against his - she tasted hot, and soft, and sweet. He felt the madness of passion overtaking him, drowning his senses. He reached a hand behind her to grab clumsily at Geralt's waist and pull himself closer to them both. Geralt moved his free hand to Jaskier's jaw, grabbing him roughly with a calloused palm. Jaskier broke away from kissing Yennefer, to flick his tongue against Geralt's fingertips. The witcher bit his bottom lip and sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. Works every time, Jaskier thought.
Yennefer leant back from Jaskier, her head against Geralt's bare chest, catching her breath. Her eyes were sparkling - excitement crackling in the air between them all. "I think," she said, breathlessly, "We might be able to come to an arrangement. Don't you agree, Jaskier?"
"Oh ho yes," he said, leaning into her neck and kissing her as he spoke. "Yes - yes - definitely - very much yes. I cannot believe I'm saying this - but I could not agree with you more."
Yennefer laughed, and then looked back up at the witcher as she moved her body slowly against his. "Geralt, do you agree?"
Geralt closed his eyes and tilted his head back, one hand possessively gripping each of them. "Hmm," was his gravelly reply.
"Then we all agree," said Jaskier. "Looks like this night will end well after all."
- END -