After downing their drinks, Jaskier followed Geralt out of the club back onto the busy Soho street. Jaskier pulled out his phone and asked, "Do you want me to call an Uber?"

"Where do you live?"

"Camden."

Geralt shook his head. "I live ten minutes from here if you don't mind walking?"

"Cool, what's the address?"

Geralt told him the address and he texted Triss to let him know where he was going. She replied immediately with several aubergine emojis, telling him to 'have fun and be safe'. They walked briskly down the street in relative silence. The nervous anticipation was building up in Jaskier now and he wondered what Geralt would be like in bed. The way that he carried himself, sauntering down the street with his hands tucked into his trousers and his head held high, he looked like the type of guy who was sure of himself. He also looked like a total top, which was fine for Jaskier—being versatile had its advantages. If nothing else, he hoped that Geralt was a good kisser. Jaskier stole a glance at Geralt and couldn't help but wonder how those plump, pink lips would look wrapped around his cock. Would Geralt suck him off? God, Jaskier hoped he wasn't the greedy type that only liked to receive and never reciprocate. He supposed he'd find out soon enough. It was the best and worst thing about sleeping with someone for the first time—the unknown.

"Here we are," said Geralt suddenly, fishing a bunch of keys from his pocket. "I'm on the top floor."

Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks and stared up at the building that resembled an old red brick factory with dozens of windows. "You live here?"

"Yeah," Geralt turned and frowned. "Why, is there a problem?"

"Oh no! On the contrary, this...this is awesome . Do you know what this place used to be?" Geralt shook his head, so he explained, "This is the original site of the Marquee Club."

"Never heard of it."

"It was legendary," Jaskier gushed. "The Rolling Stones played their first-ever live performance here."

Geralt raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

Jaskier nodded enthusiastically. "All the greats played here: Jethro Tull, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd…"

"Huh. That would explain why they charge me such exorbitant rent," he mused. He opened the security door and beckoned Jaskier inside. "After you."

"Oh. Thank you."

As the lift ascended at a snail's pace, Geralt asked, "You like music, then?"

"I think everyone likes music," Jaskier chuckled. "What kind of music do you listen to?"

Geralt shrugged. "This and that. What about you?"

"We'll be here all day if we talked about that," Jaskier warned lightly. The lift doors slid open then and Jaskier followed Geralt down the corridor. When Geralt opened the door to his flat and switched on the light, Jaskier's mouth fell open. "Holy shit. This is your house?"

"Yup." Geralt closed the door behind Jaskier and tossed his keys on a nearby table. "Let me guess—Jimi Hendrix played a show in this very room."

"I don't know about that," said Jaskier. "It's just...Christ, your living room's bigger than my entire flat."

"I don't think there's many lofts in the Camden area, if I remember rightly."

Certainly not any that Jaskier could afford. "Well, you have a lovely home."

"Is that why you came here?" asked Geralt, moving closer. He rested his hands on the door on either side of Jaskier's head, boxing him in, and pressed his lips to his ear. "Do you want to talk real estate, or do you want to fuck me?"

Jaskier's breath hitched. "You want me to fuck you?"

"I want you to rail me until I can't walk straight," he breathed, dragging his teeth up Jaskier's exposed neck and nipping his earlobe. "I want you to bury your cock into my tight arse, right to the hilt." Geralt slowly dragged his hand down Jaskier's chest before palming the bulge straining his trousers. Jaskier's eyes fluttered shut and his breath stuttered, feeling drunk on Geralt's words. "I want you to pin me down on the bed and fuck me into the mattress." Jaskier was struggling to think straight as Geralt unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock, teasing him with a leisurely stroke up and down the shaft. Jaskier groaned, unable to stop his body arching into Geralt's touch. "Is that a dealbreaker for you?"

"Fuck no."

Jaskier turned his head searching blindly for Geralt's mouth. He couldn't wait a second longer, he had to kiss him. Geralt crushed their mouths together in a messy kiss, all the while continuing to stroke Jaskier's cock in a slow, sensuous rhythm, rubbing the pad of his thumb lightly over the tip, smearing precum over the head. Where Geralt was slow, methodical and in control, Jaskier's movements were frantic; there was an edge of desperation to his desire as he fought with Geralt's buckle and zipper. He roughly pushed Geralt's trousers past his thighs and took his hard cock in hand and holy shit, he was huge . Of course, he was: big house. Big dick. Great kisser. Some men had all the luck, but for tonight at least, Jaskier had him all to himself.

Jaskier took a firm grip of Geralt's cock and mimicked Geralt's movements, pumping his fist back and forth in long, smooth strokes. Geralt's moans of pleasure were stifled by Jaskier's mouth, but the sound sent a sharp spark of arousal through Jaskier. Geralt broke the kiss, grabbed Jaskier's hand and marched him to the bedroom. Before Jaskier could even catch his breath, Geralt had pushed him onto the bed (which he couldn't help but notice was also huge, just like everything else in this flat). Jaskier bounced onto the mattress, staring wide-eyed as Geralt loomed over him, his giant frame blocking out what little light poured in from the living room. It was a little unnerving and all kinds of sexy to be in this situation: evidently, Geralt knew what he liked and he wasn't afraid to ask for it. Jaskier only hoped that he was up to the task to deliver.

Geralt pulled his shirt off over his head in one fluid movement before discarding his trousers, finally revealing himself in all his glory. Jaskier drank in the sight of him: the vee of his slender hips drew Jaskier's eyes towards his stiff cock, hanging thick and heavy between his legs. Even under such poor lighting, he really was a feast for the eyes.

Jaskier quickly followed suit, looking far less elegant as he squirmed out of his too-tight trousers and practically tore off his flimsy mesh shirt. When he'd discarded the last of his clothing, Geralt climbed onto his lap and leant down to kiss him, Jaskier rising up to meet him halfway. Jaskier relied on his hands to guide him in the darkness, relishing every inch within reach. Geralt's taut, muscular thighs planked either side of Jaskier's hips. His large, calloused hands cupping his face as they kissed each other soundly. Jaskier ran his hands across Geralt's slim waist and up his back, over hot skin crisscrossed with thin ridges that he realised were more scars like the one that graced Geralt's face. He wondered idly where Geralt had gotten the scars from, but that passing curiosity fled his mind when Geralt pulled away from him to retrieve a bottle of lube and condoms from his bedside table.

Geralt got himself comfortable in the centre of the bed, rolling onto his front and tucking a pillow under his stomach, raising his (frankly, spectacular) arse into the air. Jaskier took a moment just to stare and admire the sight before he settled down between Geralt's legs. Admittedly, it had been a while since he'd done this, but he figured it was like riding a bike. Using the palms of his hands, he spread Geralt's cheeks apart to reveal the tight, puckered ring of muscle. He suddenly had the urge to taste it, and letting instinct overrule his inhibitions, he leant forward and swept the flat of his tongue over Geralt's hole, delighting at the small moan of surprise that escaped him.

"Fuck, I never figured you for a tease," Geralt mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow he was hugging.

"Oh, I'm just getting started," he promised.

Jaskier set to work lapping at Geralt's hole like it was ice-cream melting in the hot sun, savouring the sharp, musky taste as the muscle began to pulse and contract to his touch. If that wasn't an indicator that Geralt was enjoying himself, the sharp gasps and deep, breathy moans that poured from his lips certainly were. Jaskier alternated between using his mouth and his fingers when his jaw began to hurt, circling the rim with his index finger before pushing in slightly, testing just how far Geralt's body would let him push inside. Once Geralt was relaxed enough, Jaskier was able to slip his whole digit in and out with ease. He couldn't help but moan at how Geralt's hole greedily swallowed his finger, the velvety heat of his body clenching and relaxing around him as Geralt's breaths became increasingly ragged. When he pushed in two fingers, Geralt mewled, pressing his rear back against Jaskier's fingers, begging for more. He was only too happy to oblige, drizzling lube over his fingers as he started to fuck Geralt in a slow, steady pace, back and forth, pulling out moans and gasps of pleasure from Geralt with each stroke.

Jaskier would have been content to do this for the rest of his life, lying there listening to Geralt gasp and groan, to feel him rock back and forth against his fingers. But when Geralt snarled and demanded that Jaskier stop teasing him and just fuck him already, a spike of arousal and excitement shot through him. Geralt's tight hole felt amazing around his fingers, he could only imagine what it would feel like around his prick. When he tried to open the condom wrapper, he found that his fingers were too slippery to grip the edge, so he was glad that Geralt's back was turned when he sneakily wiped the lube and spit off of his hand on top of the bedsheets.

Once the condom was on and he'd applied a liberal amount of lube to his length, Geralt got up on his hands and knees, and Jaskier lined the tip of his cock at Geralt's entrance. He took his time pressing forward, meeting some resistance, but Geralt rocked his hips back, taking Jaskier's full length into his body in one, smooth stroke. Jaskier gasped, digging his fingertips into Geralt's hips to steady himself.

"Holy shit, you feel amazing," he whimpered.

"Please move," Geralt pleaded. "Fuck me hard." Jaskier braced himself and snapped his hips forward, knocking a grunt out of Geralt. "Fuck yes, keep doing that."

Jaskier took a firm grip of Geralt's hips, drew back and thrust forward again. Geralt groaned louder this time, so Jaskier repeated the movement again and again, pistoning his hips back and forth, hard and fast like Geralt commanded him to. Their heavy breaths and gasps of pleasure seemed to sync and meld with their movements, in and out, back and forth, pushing them both closer and closer to a dizzying climax. Jaskier felt like he was in sensory overload, drunk on the sound and the feeling of Geralt, but he wanted to see him too, commit this moment to memory for future nights when he was alone in bed. Arching his back, he used his fingers to spread Geralt's cheeks further apart, the better to see his cock slide in and out of Geralt's body in smooth, continuous strokes. Jaskier's mouth fell open. The sight was as enthralling as it was obscene, and it took all of his willpower not to come right there and then.

"Fuck, you should see yourself like this," he purred. "So fucking hot."

Geralt lowered his face onto the bed, reached back with both hands and pulled his cheeks further apart. "How's that?"

"Fucking gorgeous." He liked seeing Geralt in this position, face down and arse up, moaning like a bitch as he took Jaskier's cock. He leant forward and grabbed the back of Geralt's neck, pushing his face into the bed. "You like that?"

"Oh, fuck yes," Geralt groaned. "Just like that. Fuck me into the bed."

Jaskier responded by threading his fingers through Geralt's hair, caressing it before taking a fistful for purchase as he began pounding mercilessly into him. Geralt cried out then and his hands fisted the bedsheets. "Oh my god…"

"Close?" Jaskier panted.

"Don't stop," Geralt rambled. "Don't stop, please don't stop…"

Using his free hand, Jaskier took ahold of Geralt's cock. It felt impossibly hard in his grasp and was weeping precum; Jaskier knew that he must be close then. Using the precum to slick Geralt's length, he began pumping it back and forth to the same rhythm of his hips. Geralt practically howled then and Jaskier felt Geralt's cock begin to pulse in his hand, drenching his fingers and the bedsheets in hot seed.

"Keep going," Geralt sobbed, sounding totally wrecked. "Oh god, don't stop."

Jaskier continued to milk every last bit of pleasure out of Geralt, but he was fighting a losing battle: he wanted to pull Geralt closer, kiss him deeper, wanted to fuck him and be fucked into oblivion, but his grip grew slack and his back arched as he came, his orgasm hitting him like a battering ram. Dizzy and exhausted, Jaskier collapsed forward unceremoniously onto Geralt's back, but Geralt didn't immediately shrug him off. Neither man moved for a while, taking a well-earned break to get their breaths back and contemplate what was—for Jaskier, at least—the most mind-blowing sex of his life.

When Jaskier felt Geralt squirm, he rolled onto his back, lying spread eagle on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. "Wow. I mean, that was...fuck me."

"Yeah, this was fun," Geralt replied unenthusiastically. He got to his feet and padded out of the bedroom. Jaskier propped himself up on his elbows and called after him.

"Where are you going?"

"Shower," he replied. "You can go for one after me if you want."

Jaskier heard the squeak of taps and the sound of running water a moment later and collapsed back onto the bed. Okay, so Geralt wasn't a cuddler—disappointing, but not that surprising. Figuring he ought to clean up his mess, he reached down to remove the condom, but the sight that greeted him made his stomach sink.

"Fuck," he hissed. "Geralt!"