Jaskier stirred in his sleeping roll, the uneven ground beneath him was impossible to sleep on, his eyes blinking open to the starry sky twinkling above him. He looked around at the clear meadow they had made camp in for the night, grateful he didn't spot any lurking beasts nearby.

He sat up and rubbed at the soreness in his shoulders, glancing up to see only Roach standing by the dying fire, soundly asleep. Where was Geralt?

"Geralt?" He called out quietly, barely above a whisper; afraid of anything but his Witcher answering back through the darkness.

He was unexpectedly worried about the absence of the white-haired man, wondering where he could possibly disappear to in the middle of nowhere.

Quickly standing to his feet he began to panic as he searched around the surrounding area, scanning the towering treeline for any sign of Geralt.

"Geralt?" He called out loudly, pacing along a small cluster of trees.

The large, shadowy figure of a man appeared from within the darkness of the forest, making Jaskier almost jump out of his skin.

"You scared me half to death," Jaskier hissed, his hand over his chest in a poor attempt to calm his racing heart.

Geralt simply stared at the bard, amused at his reaction.

"Why on earth are you wandering around this place?" Jaskier hastily asked, curiosity burning in his mind.

"I heard noises," the Witcher answered shortly, raising an eyebrow at the question.

"It's a forest, they are usually full of noises," Jaskier replied sarcastically, a tiny shred of worry easing into the back of his throat.

"Yes, they are…"

Geralt moved passed him, making his way out from between the cluster of trees back towards their camp.

Jaskier turned on his heels and hurriedly followed him, suddenly uneasy at the thought of something finding him in the dark without his Witcher to protect him.

"We should try and get some sleep," Jaskier said as they approached camp, moving to settle back into his sleeping roll.

"Hmm," Geralt murmured in agreement, crawling into his own bed roll.

"Goodnight, Geralt," Jaskier said teasingly, before rolling over onto his side with his back facing him.

Geralt simply laid back and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would claim him swiftly.

Jaskier awoke from his unbelievable dream to be greeted by a very annoyed Geralt standing over him.

He couldn't help but notice the fact the mighty Witcher was shirtless, his eyes tracing every scar-riddled muscle of his chest and stomach.

"What's the matter this time?" He questioned as Geralt finally stepped away from him.

"You talk in your sleep..." the man growled.

"Shit," Jaskier muttered quietly under his breath.

"I do not!" He cried in resentment, hiding the embarrassed look on his face as Geralt turned his back to him.

"You did last night," Geralt responded, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Fine, what did I say?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Geralt said teasingly as he turned back around to face Jaskier, a faint grin playing across his normally stern face.

"Yes, that's why I asked!" Jaskier exclaimed in frustration, closing the gap between them as he came to stand mere inches from the tall brute.

Geralt tilted his head in amusement, bewildered at the smaller man's reaction to his taunting.

"My name,"

"I'm sorry, come again..." Jaskier blinked in confusion, suddenly incredibly aware of the strong aroma coming off the man standing in front of him.

"You spoke my name, in your sleep," Geralt explained, inching forward when he noticed the hint of lavender and ginger lingering in the air around them.

"I must have had a dream about you slaying some horrible beastie," Jaskier waved away at the memory of his dream.

"Hmm…" Jaskier could see the tiny muscles twitch in Geralt's face as he made that all too familiar noise of dismissal.

"We should get moving, least we want to get caught in that," Jaskier gestured towards the horizon at the approaching storm clouds.

Geralt quickly packed their things into the saddle bags slung over Roach's back before jumping into the saddle, leaning out to offer his hand to Jasiker.

Jaskier looked at him in surprise, as he had never been offered to ride with Geralt before.

"Don't need you slowing us down to get caught in that," He explained, nodding his head toward the sky.

Without a word, Jaskier took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled into the saddle to sit in front of Geralt.

Geralt reached his arms around Jaskier's waist, taking Roach's reins in his gloved hands, giving her a quick kick to get her going.

Jaskier straddled the saddle beneath him in an effort to not slid back against Geralt, he couldn't imagine how his body would react to feeling the incredibly built man pressing against his small back.

They rode along the forest trail in still silence, as Jaskier swayed slightly with Roach's gentle stride.

Geralt couldn't help himself from stealing occasional glances at the bard's prominent rear as it rocked from side to side against the saddle.

He wondered to himself why Jaskier would utter his name in the sweet thralls of slumber, what dreams were swirling in the bard's head while he slept.

Jaskier soon found himself in a deep trance of thought as he began to remember his dream from last night, of being taken by Geralt with such intense passion. His mind swirled thinking of how he felt as dream Geralt knelt over him, their bodies pressed together.

Jaskier felt his arousal stirring against his trousers, groaning softly as the saddle rubbed against him.

Geralt leaned forward slightly, his chest pressing into Jaskier's back as he whispered into his ear.

"You're making those sounds again," Jaskier shuddered at the feeling of Geralt's breath bristling the hairs on his neck

Geralt released his right hand from Roach's reins and brought it up to caress Jaskier through his trousers, massaging his stiff length beneath the soft fabric.

"Geralt..." Jaskier whimpered quietly, his breath catching in his throat.

"Stop," Geralt growled as he pulled on the reins, causing them to come to a halt.

Jaskier blinked his eyes open, painfully aware at the fact Geralt's hand was no longer caressing his hard cock.

"Why did we stop?" He asked, glancing behind him to see Geralt sliding off the saddle onto the ground.

Geralt reached for Jaskier, grasping him by the hips as he helped him down off the horse, pulling him close so they were mere inches apart.

"We have a day's ride ahead of us, I can't have you distracting me the whole time," Geralt grunted his response, grabbing him by his wrist as he turned to lead him off the trail.

"Geralt, what are we doing?" Jaskier hissed, allowing himself to be pulled behind a tree just off the side of the trail.

"I'm going to shut you up," the white-haired wolf growled as he shoved Jaskier against the tree, his molten yellow eyes staring into Jaskier's.

Jaskier felt his still hard cock twitch in his pants, watching Geralt kneel before him. His rough hands reaching for Jaskier's hips, forcefully ripping his pants off his waist to free his strained erection.

"Fuck," Jaskier breathed as the cool morning air swirled across his aching cock.

"Quiet," Geralt commanded, clasping a hand over the bard's mouth.

Jaskier watched in bewilderment as Geralt's mouth slowly took him inch by inch, throbbing inside the wet warmth surrounding him.

Geralt kept his hand clasped over the younger man's mouth, reaching with his free hand up between his legs to caress the shaft of his cock, stroking it in time with the movements of his mouth, bobbing back and forth.

All Jaskier could do was watch the mesmerizing scene before him, trying his damnedest not to lose his mind, his fists clenched at his sides. He wanted so desperately to grab a handful of that beautiful white hair and force himself down Geralt's throat.

As if reading his mind, Geralt hungrily took every inch of Jaskier into his mouth, the head of his throbbing cock hitting the back of his throat. He looked up at the bard with those golden eyes, a look of pure lust in them.

Without warning he pulled away from him, leaving Jaskier's cock slick with his saliva, his hands suddenly back on his hips as he turned him around so his delicious ass was now exposed to his Witcher.

Before he could protest the action, he felt a hot, wet tongue prodding against his tight hole which caused him to moan out in utter pleasure.

Geralt's hands were still holding onto his hips, his tongue doing unspeakable things to his now aching entrance.

"Fuck me," Jaskier whined, his hand seeking his throbbing cock between his legs.

The licking and probing stopped, making him whimper in protest. But before he could voice his disappointment, something else was pressing against his awaiting hole.

"If you wish," Geralt growled in his ear, sharp nails now digging into the soft flesh of his hips.

Jaskier moaned and grunted loudly as his Witcher's massive cock penetrated him without mercy, his face pressed against the rough bark of the tree holding him in place.

"Oh gods, Geralt..." He cried out, his hand stroking his shaft without a care.

Geralt groaned and grunted like a beast in heat as he thrust himself in and out of Jaskier's tight ass.

"Fuck!" Jaskier cried when he spilled his seed over his hand and part of the tree beneath him, unable to stop himself.

Geralt soon found his own orgasm, his hot seed filling Jaskier's sore ass.

Both panting and grunting, Jaskier glanced over his shoulder at Geralt, a look of pure bliss on his sweaty face.

"We should get going," He managed through heavy breathing, reaching to pull his pants back up.

"Hmm," Geralt nodded, fixing his own pants back into place.