I hold tight to Roach's reins and stroke my hand over his snout and try not to focus on the sounds coming from the lake. Geralt fights yet another Kikimora. There has been a surge of them in the lakes around here recently and Geralt was commissioned to kill them. A shrill snarl sounds from my left and I cringe towards Roach. The horse snorts softly and bats me with his head, in what I assume is supposed to be a comforting gesture. My hands itch to play a song on my lute, my go to when I feel anxious. Geralt bellows loudly and more splashes sound from the lake. My heart is speeding in my chest and all I want is to grab Geralt and hold him close. I want to keep him safe which when I think about it, is foolish. I mean the man towers over me and has muscles for days, while I stand at least a good foot and half shorter than him and I am spindly at best. I suppose I could be used as a distraction for Geralt to run to safety, not that he would ever do that. I close my eyes and lean against Roach, thankful for his silent comfort. The snarls finally stop with a squishy cry. I open my eyes and gasp. Geralt stalks from the lake, water running in rivulets down his muscular frame, his white hair sticking to his muddy face. His shirt clings to his chest and my breath grows shallow. What truly steals the air from my lungs is the sharp piercing yellow of his eyes, I could get lost in those swirling orbs. Geralt shakes out his shirt and pulls it up to wipe away the mud coating his pale skin and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I can't stop my eyes from roaming over his chiseled stomach. Geralt grunts and I flush red when I realize he caught me staring. He narrows his eyes at me, a question clear in his eyes but I merely bustle over to hand him his cloak.

"You might want to dry off, it's cold tonight." Geralt grunts in thanks and I hurry back to Roach. I tug his reins and he follows slowly behind me. I look behind to see Geralt stripped down to his pants, his pale skin shinning in the moonlight. My cock grows hard and I mentally order it to stand down. The last thing I need is for the Witcher to find out that I'm in love with him. He would surely banish me from his side. My steps falter and my chest grows tight. I look back at Geralt and tears fill my eyes. He may never love me but just being by his side is enough for me. I shake my head and tie roach to a low hanging branch. I scout the area and find some large logs that will work perfectly for stools. I manage to drag them over and stop to catch my breath. What I wouldn't give to have even a percent of Geralt's strength. Maybe if I was stronger, better with a sword or smarter he would be more inclined to love me. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes and I clench my eyes closed to keep them at bay. My heart thuds painfully in my chest with the realization that I will never be worthy of the amazing man. A cold hand grips my jaw and I gasp. Geralt leans down towards me, his eyes clouded with what looks like worry. I snort slightly, as if he would worry over someone such as me.

"What's wrong?" His deep voice flows over me like a balm to an aching burn. I can smell his breath and his distinctly Geralt aroma. My body warms and my cock stirs in my pants. I want to wrap myself around him and just have him hold me but I quickly shake my head to dispel such thoughts. I wrap my hand around his wrist and the feel of his skin sends a flare of need through me. I gently pull his hand from my jaw and step back. I smile sadly at him and he frowns, his full lips pulled down in displeasure.

"Nothing is wrong, just ready for a warm fire and some of that stew." Geralt watches me for a beat longer, before grunting and releasing me. He opens his pack and pulls out a change of clothes. I expect him to go behind a tree like he usually does to change but instead he merely drops his pants and I almost swallow my tongue. Instead of getting dressed immediately he wrings out his wet clothing and hangs them on a branch to dry. I can't stop my eyes from trailing down his broad shoulders down to the slope of his back. His skin is littered with various scars and puckered skin. I continue on with my violation and zero in on the toned globes of his ass. My hands itch to touch his exposed flesh and I clench them into fists. His long legs and tree trunk like thighs are hairy and I long to have them wrapped around me as he takes me. I watch as he tips back a jug of fresh water, rinsing out his hair. I've never longed to be something more than what I am than now. What I wouldn't give to be the water running down his body, trailing over every slope and plane of his skin. Geralt slowly turns around and I catch sight of his cock, before I rip my gaze away and turn towards the fire pit. My cock is heavy in my pants and aching. I close my eyes and try to think of anything else than what I want most in the world. I will have to make time for myself tonight otherwise I will get no sleep.

...

Geralt's POV:

Hm. That is most interesting. Even in the dark with only the moon as light, I can see the blush gracing Jaskier's face. He stands stiffly by the fire pit, his back hunched and a pained expression twisting his lips. I take the moment to trace down his body. His lean, lithe build tugs at my heart and I ache to hold him close, to keep him safe always. His dark brown hair blows slightly in the cool night air and my fingers twitch. What I wouldn't give to run my fingers through the silky strands, particularly while I take him from behind. I have caught the occasional glimpse of his compact body while he bathed and ever since I can't rid myself of the image of him beneath me, begging me to take him. We have traveled together for some time now and I thought that over time his presence would annoy me, but it is very much the opposite. I look forward to each day with Jaskier by my side, his sweet voice singing bards about my adventures. He has even managed to drag out parts of myself that I long thought to be dead. He has made me realize that I am still capable of love, more to the point that I am capable of loving him. He stirs feelings of protectiveness and possessiveness in me, that sometimes it is hard to hide them from my companion, especially when some bar inhabitant thinks to make a move on him. It was difficult not to smash the drunks face into the table when he thought to place his hands on Jaskier's ass the other night. Roach snorts and bats me with his head, pulling me from my debauch thoughts of Jaskier. I look over at him and see that he looks more relaxed than he was earlier, as he pokes at the fire. I quickly pull on my fresh clothes and move to sit beside him. He smiles shyly at me and hands me a bowl. Our fingers brush together and he jumps as if electrocuted.

"Are you sure your alright?" My voice is but a whisper but Jaskier quickly nods, a pretty red blush staining his cheeks. We eat in silence, which for Jaskier is quite a feat. He sneaks the occasional glance at me but I pretend not to notice. I want to push for him to tell me what is bothering him so that I may fix it for him but I hold my tongue. He will come to me in his own time. Jaskier rinses out his bowl and I do the same. He stretches and his shirt lifts from his stomach. His may not be flat muscle like my stomach but the sight still arouses me. The slight curve of his stomach, the smooth skin begging for my hands to caress.

"I'm going to go to bed." Jaskier moves to his bundle of bedding before stopping. He looks over his shoulder at me, his grey eyes shinning. "Sweet dreams Geralt." I want to grab him in my arms and have him sleep in my bedding with me but I merely grunt and nod. Jaskier smiles slightly before laying down and closing his eyes. I unroll my bundle and do the same. Sleep finally takes me and when I dream, it is of Jaskier telling me that he loves me.

...

I wake to the sounds of rustling coming from the treeline and I grab for my sword. I lay still, listening for more sounds. A faint moan reaches my ears and I sniff the air. I can smell Roach's musky odor, Jaskier's sweet scent lingering from where his bundle was with mine, the ashes from the low burning fire pit and something else. I sniff again, taking a deeper pull of the air around me and my cocks swells. The unfamiliar scent tantalizes my senses and I groan quietly. Jaskier is aroused and from the sounds of it, he is taking care of himself. I silently slip from my bedding and stalk around the trees. I lean flat against the bark and peek around the edge of it. Jaskier stands a few yards away, his pants by his ankles as he works his cock. I watch as his ass flexes and he surges on the balls of his feet. He throws his head back and moans beautifully. I can see sweat trail down his taut neck and I lick my lips, imagining the taste on my tongue. Jaskier jerks his shoulder faster, his strokes becoming harder and his moans louder. I beg silently for him to turn so that I may look as he comes and I get my request. I say a silent thanks to the heavens and my heart thuds in my chest. Jaskier's cock is like his body, small and compact but it is gorgeous. The shaft is a pale pink color with small veins running around the sides of it. His head is a large mushroom shape and it flares as he strokes faster. Liquid seeps from his slit and I yearn to have a taste, to run my tongue over every bump and vein in his shaft. He is the perfect size to fit in my mouth. Jaskier gasps and squeals. Seed spurts from his slit and shoots in the air before him. His scent is even stronger and I palm my cock through my pants. I want nothing more than to push him to his knees and mount him, to love him so thoroughly he will never think of another lover again. My lips twist down in a frown. I fear that my actions would be unwanted, for who would want a Witcher to be their lover. He jerks once more and my eyes widen.

"Yesss Geralt!" Jaskier hisses my name as the last of his orgasm rushes through him and I stand there, stunned. Jaskier wipes his hands off on some leaves and I snap out of my trance. I quickly head back to my bedding and I slow my breathing just as Jaskier comes back to camp. He stops by my side for a moment before going to his own bedding. Once his breathing evens out, I sit up and look at him. Is it possible he can feel something for me besides just companionship? My lips curve into a devious smile and sleep comes easier to me.