There's something almost calming about watching Jaskier when he orgasms. It's always so loud, and intense, and powerful; it leaves no room for anything else.
It's as if his body is absorbing every bit of chaos that surrounds him until he can't take it anymore, and then he simply... releases.
Geralt's had the pleasure of experiencing it many, many times now, and it always has the same impact on him, if not stronger each time. It's addictive, makes him wish that he could spend all of his days, every day, his only purpose in life being to bring Jaskier to orgasm.
And it's possibly making the person in the room next to them homicidal because this would be the seventh time tonight that they’ve banged on the wall, and shouted insults at Geralt and Jaskier for being too loud.
Jaskier’s chuckle turns into a gasp when Geralt slips out of him— the slide slippery, the sound lewd.
Geralt grunts as his body hits the mattress, finding that he's aching in the way he always does after several rounds with the bard. Very few people can tire him out, but it is no surprise that Jaskier manages to be on that short list.
"Outstanding as always, dear witcher."
"Hm."
"And verbal as ever," Jaskier teases as he sits up. "Your ability to be so nonchalant and quiet after sex with me is becoming quite offensive, I must say."
"This is how I normally am."
"You had a lot to say an hour ago when I had my lips wrapped around your cock."
Geralt shrugs, "I was inspired."
Jaskier rolls his eyes, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes as he sits up and begins searching for his pants.
Geralt admires his back (and his backside) as he moves, eyes trailing over the—
Wait…
Wait.
Geralt doesn't panic, okay? Living the life he lives, he doesn't have that privilege, but right now, laying in this bed as he watches Jaskier get ready to leave— fuck, he might be panicking.
Because Jaskier never leaves after sex, not since after the first few times, at least. And yes, he isn't necessarily obligated to stay, but he always does, and so does Geralt, and now he isn't.
Why?
Why is Jaskier not talking him into cuddling right now?
Why is Jaskier not attempting to get him into the now-cold bath in the corner of the room?
Why is Jaskier not going on one of his very detailed post-sex rants that Geralt pretends to despise, even though they both know he gets invested each time?
Why is Jaskier not falling asleep right now? Hogging up all the bed space and stealing the blanket while using Geralt's chest as a pillow?
Geralt remains as still as possible, barely twitching out of place as Jaskier pulls on his doublet. He may not feel normal about this, but he can sure as shit act normal, even if it isn't normal.
"Alright, darling, I'm going to go fetch us some water. Be back before you can miss my presence too much," the bard announces, throwing a wink over his shoulder before practically skipping out the door.
The words settle him, but only for a few moments before he's ready to panic over something completely different because why did he care so much about Jaskier possibly leaving?
Sure, Geralt has become almost as fond of the after-sex things as he is of the sex-sex things, but he doesn't need them. He won't break down into tears without them.
Except...
That's sort of exactly what he was ready to do just now.
Okay, maybe Geralt wouldn’t have cried, but he definitely would’ve bothered… upset, even.
And he knows this because even with the knowledge that Jaskier is coming back, even knowing that Jaskier only left so he could make sure they both stay hydrated, Geralt is, in this very moment, bothered.
Which isn’t good. At all.
Because the last time he got bothered by someone leaving, it was Yennefer. And he was only bothered because.
Well.
But that wouldn’t make sense, would it? Because Jaskier leaves all the time. He leaves Jaskier all the time. They part for months on end, and Geralt lives.
So what if Geralt has begun to notice that it gets a little harder to willingly go every time they part ways?
So what if his mood during the months where Jaskier isn’t around is shittier than usual?
So what if his mood when Jaskier is around is better than usual?
That doesn’t mean anything. Sex puts most men in better moods, that doesn’t mean he’s in love with the bard.
Not that feelings would mean love. Because a little crush doesn’t equate to love.
Not that Geralt has a little crush, or any crush of any sort. Because he doesn’t. Because he can’t.
Because what they have now, friendship and lust and comfort, is the best thing that has happened to him in a while, and he will not ruin that over catching feelings, of all things.
He doesn’t have feelings for Jaskier, so he can’t ruin anything.
“I don’t have feelings for Jaskier,” he says aloud, into the empty room, but the words feel heavy on his tongue.
I can’t have feelings for Jaskier.
“I don’t have feelings for Jaskier,” Geralt says again, but this time, it comes out as a growl.
Please, don’t let me have feelings for Jaskier.
“I do not have feelings for Jask—”
The door opens, and Jaskier walks in with a wide smile, and that spark of electricity that follows the bard wherever he goes bursts in behind him.
Jaskier takes easy steps towards the bed, and it’s like he’s moving in slow motion.
Geralt desperately wants to run. He doesn’t.
He remains still as Jaskier sets down the pitcher of water, and the cup in hand, and fills it up to the brim before turning to Geralt with a disarming gaze.
The rim of the glass in Jaskier’s hand is pressed to Geralt’s lips, and the witcher takes in the sight before him.
Those wide blue eyes, and that disheveled hair, and those pouty lips— he realizes that he could probably draw every single feature of this man’s face perfectly without even looking, and he’s never drawn a day in his life.
I can’t.
“Well?” Jaskier says, “drink up.”
Geralt parts his lips, and Jaskier’s eyes drop, and Geralt’s heart thuds so loud, it seems to echo throughout his entire body, and Jaskier smiles wide, as if he heard it.
I do.
Fuck.
880 notes
·
View notes
Eddie rockstar au featuring past fwb Steddie who are reuniting to be more?? and an original song I wrote?? Slay! (lemme know if you want me to do a part 2 or post this to ao3?) under the cut cause its a LONG BOI
Eddie grew up drowning out the noise. He was used to covering his ears, to turning up the music. So the screams and shouts of others had grown cold on him, never really affecting the way he lived.
But this? This was a whole different story.
He peeked his head out from behind the curtain, glancing at the crowd that had gathered in front of the stage. The crowd that was there to see him. It was odd, the fact that so many people wanted to be there for him, wanted to hear him make music he used to use as a distraction in his home, and after the fight, in the dingy bedroom of Wayne’s trailer.
Someone grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the crowd before they could spot him. “What do you think you're doing?” a girl hissed, and he turned around to grin at her.
“Checking out my adoring fans, Chris,” he joked, running a hand through his curls. “Gotta see if anyone stands out to me, ya know?”
She rolled her eyes at him, but a fond smile crossed her lips. “You go on in 2,” she warned, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Good luck out there.”
“I won’t need it,” he responded with a wink.
As Chrissy walked away, Eddie’s heart started beating louder. Adrenaline and pure anxiety mixed in his veins, a feeling stronger than one he had ever been given by any substance.
It was show time. The crowd wanted a rockstar? He was going to give them one.
Stepping onto the stage, Eddie let the roars of the people before him soak in. He threw his head back, taking a long, deep breath before addressing the crowd.
“Are you ready to rock, freaks?”
The show went on as normal, Eddie playing and singing and basking in the reactions of the crowd. It wasn’t until he got to his final song that he spotted a familiar face in the front row.
“Alright, alright,” he began, putting a finger to his lips. “Everyone hush now.” Taking a deep breath, he looked straight at the first man he was ever in love with. Straight at his high school hookup that could have been something more. Straight at Steve Harrington himself. “This last song is dedicated to someone I knew once. I hope he knows it’s about him.”
And then he started to sing.
Denim, denim jeans
Polo with a band T hidden underneath
All the girls wrapped around his finger
But i’m standing just where he can’t see
Midnight kisses and early morning drives
To the lake down the street where he can hide
Cause you know he’ll never be
Brave enough to see
That he’s dying simply because he’s living
A lie
He took a breath before launching into the chorus, fingers shaky on his guitar.
Do you care
That I’m not there
Or was I never on your mind in the first place
Do you see me?
I’m screaming, screaming
I’m reaching, reaching out
But you turn away
So what else can I say?
Farah Faucett hair spray
And a smile that could kill
I think it already did
But at least I’ll die on this hill
Sayin’ there’s no point in loving if
You can’t love yourself
So walk away, trophy boy
Let them put you on your shelf
Do you care
That I’m not there
Or was I never on your mind in the first place
Do you see me?
I’m screaming, screaming
I’m reaching, reaching out
But you turn away
So what else can I say?
Yeah what else can I say?
The song ended on a solo guitar riff, Eddie pouring his heart and soul into every note. He opened his eyes on the last strum, looking right at Steve and winking.
“Thank you guys for coming out tonight,” he said, addressing the crowd as a whole. “I can’t put it into words how happy I am to be here. Goodnight, Indy!” And with that he threw up his horns, swung his guitar once around his body, and strutted off the stage like he hadn’t just indirectly confessed his feelings to someone he never thought he’d see again.
His heart thumping in his chest, Eddie turned to Chrissy with the little hope and prayer he had left in him. “Front row,” he said, “Harrington. Looks the same as he did in school, sticks out like a sore thumb. Bring him back here.” Chrissy raised an eyebrow, but upon seeing his desperation, turned and walked toward the side exit of the stage. It led out to the gates that separated Eddie from the crowd, and he could hear the clatter of them opening as she hurried Steve through before letting the security guards handle whoever else clamored after them.
Curtains fluttering with movement, Eddie held his breath. He watched as Steve stepped through, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.
“Harrington,” said Eddie, almost a whisper. “I’ll be damned.”
Steve smiled, and fuck if that smile didn’t buckle Eddie’s knees. “Hey, Munson,” he greeted, hands at his sides. “Nice show.”
Laughing, Eddie stepped closer. “Didn’t take you as part of this crowd,” he stated, looking Steve up and down. The faded yellow of his jumper was probably the preppiest thing in the audience, amongst the blacks and rips and chains that his usual fans sported. “You get a girlfriend who’s into our kind of music? Or did you just decide to show up and look like an outcast?” His words were teasing, and he hoped Steve could see that.
“Uh,” Steve pressed his lips together, looking at the ground. “No, Robin dragged me down here. Said it would be good for me to get out of my comfort zone… and stuff.”
“And stuff,” Eddie repeated with a grin. “Not going to lie to you, Stevie, I didn’t think you and the band geek would last.” He tried not to let jealousy seep through his tone.
With the kick of his foot, Steve’s shoulders loosened. “She’s not the band geek I’m after, trust me.” He looked Eddie directly in the eye. “I messed up, Eds.”
Eddie stared at him. “What?”
“I messed up, Eddie Munson,” Steve repeated with intent, “and I want to make things right.” He advanced, tilting his chin up just the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have hidden from you. I shouldn’t have turned you away, and I’m sorry. And that song-” he paused, biting his bottom lip, “God, Eddie, you have some real talent.”
“It took a song about you for you to realize that?” Eddie joked, and Steve rolled his eyes in response. He sighed, reaching a hand up to Eddie’s cheek. The touch was tender, sweet, all the things Eddie had dreamed of when they’d been apart.
“Shut up,” he said. “Shut up and let me take you out on a date.”
Heart lurching, Eddie’s face broke into a grin so wide it was painful. “What’s in it for me, Harrington?” he asked slowly, leaning into the touch. “I’m a rockstar now, why should I go out with you?”
“Because I asked nicely?” Steve whispered, curling his hand and letting the tip of his nails trail down Eddie’s cheek. “And because I want to make things right?”
It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ever the romantic, sweetheart.” His tongue pressed up against his cheek, like he was contemplating the question. He wasn’t. “Sure, I’ll go out with you. Meet me behind the venue in half an hour?”
Steve nodded. “I can do that,” he said. “I need to go talk to Robin, I owe her money.” With that, he pulled away, leaving Eddie longing for his touch again. “I’ll see you later,” he called out, walking with Chrissy toward an exit that would lead him past the crowd.
Eddie watched him leave, a smile on his face.
He had himself a date, and all it took was one little song.
38 notes
·
View notes
Day 15
“Tatsumi-senpai, have you ever kissed anyone?” Kaname asked, sitting across from the other boy in the catacombs. Everyone else had left for the night leaving the two of them alone.
“Why are you asking?” Tatsumi replied, confused as he moved one of his chess pieces on the board. Kaname didn’t know anything about how the game worked and was mostly just guessing at where the pieces moved.
“A-ah it’s nothing, I was just wondering…I haven’t kissed anyone.” Kaname could feel his face heating up. God this was embarrassing, why was he doing this?
“I haven’t kissed anyone either.” Their game of chess forgotten for the moment. Kaname’s face burned even hotter.
“Would you--would you like to try kissing?” He barely squeaked out. How was the great Kaname Tojou such a loser when it came to his crush? He should be confident and yet here he was.
“Can you repeat that, Kaname-san?” He loved the way his name sounded in Tatsumi’s voice. It made him want to die in the moment though.
“Can I--Can we try…kissing?” His voice was still soft but evidently loud enough for Tatsumi to hear if the slight blush on his face was evidence of anything. Tatsumi gently moved their chess board to the side and slid closer to Kaname. Kaname felt his heart rate pick up at the proximity as Tatsumi leaned in closer.
How was he supposed to kiss? He tried to remember the movies and how they did it, closing his eyes and letting Tatsumi guide him, his lips slightly parted. The moment Tatsumi’s lips touched his he thought he would fly, and evidently his mouth moved before he could think, as Tatsumi let out a yelp and brought a hand to his lips.
Kaname bit him. Oh how embarrassing! It wasn’t enough to draw blood but still!
“I’m so sorry Tatsumi-senpai! I didn’t mean to do that! Oh god--”
Tatsumi laughed. Kaname stopped in his tracks as Tatsumi continued laughing. He wasn’t laughing at Kaname, though, or at least not at Kaname as a person, but rather at his reaction to the whole thing.
“It’s okay, Kaname-san. We can try again if you’d like.”
“Y-yes I’d like that very much.”
They leaned in again and Kaname clenched his jaw to keep himself from biting Tatsumi again, but he got a little overeager again and felt their heads bump into each other and not where their lips were (which was where he was aiming for). Kaname curses under his breath but Tatsumi giggles again (a heavenly sound to Kaname’s ears) and cups his face before gently guiding him to Tatsumi’s lips.
Kaname was too in shock to do anything for a moment. He was kissing someone. And not just someone. He was kissing Tatsumi Kazehaya, heartthrob of Reimei Academy. He closed his eyes and relaxed, reaching to grab Tatsumi’s blazer and pull him closer. He felt their teeth clack together but it wasn’t as bad as their first attempt and for Kaname, that was enough.
They pulled away, panting heavily, and Kaname noticed that Tatsumi’s pupils had dilated. He wanted to pull Tatsumi in for another kiss but held himself back, at least for a moment.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Tatsumi spoke, breathless and full of affection.
“No, it wasn’t.” Kaname pulled Tatsumi back in for another kiss, narrowly avoiding bumping their heads together again. He could do this forever, just him and Tatsumi in the catacombs, kissing to their hearts content.
10 notes
·
View notes