Jaskier knows a lot about his Witcher. He's been traveling on and off with him for almost five years. By now they find comfort in each other. They share beds happily, bathe together happily, and of course they love just being with each other.
However Jaskier still learns about him everyday. Today as they settle into a mediocre Inn, Geralt seems... off.
He seems to be favoring his stomach and he's a bit grumpier than usual. Jaskier didn't know if he was hurt or what so Jaskier asked.
"Geralt, what's wrong with your stomach? Were you stabbed again and didn't tell me? Did something happen?" Jaskier was sitting on the bed in his linen sleep pants watching Geralt dry off from his bath. He wasn't facing Jaskier so he couldn't see if there was a new wound or not.
"hurts" is all Jask heard come from the larger man.
"Hurts? You got hurt? When, dear? Who hurt you? What do you need me to do?" Jaskier was already standing up and walking over to look at Geralt's wound. But when Geralt turned there was no wound but rather a slightly distended belly.
"Oh darling, you have a bellyache? Come, let me help." Jaskier placed a hand on Geralt's wrist. Geralt just hummed and followed the bard to the bed.
"Lay down with your back to my, yes good boy." Jaskier said after he laid down in the middle of the bed. Geralt was heavy against his chest but it was nice. It was always nice to feel Geralt's solid meaty weight against him.
Jaskier put his hands on Geralt's ribs.
"I'm gonna just massage your stomach okay? Is that okay dearest?" Jaskier said as he just rubbed small circles with his thumbs.
"Yeah it's okay Jask. Be gentle please" Geralt said and tried to relax back onto the younger. His brothers used to just tell him to wait and not sleep on his stomach for a few days. It was always strange with Jaskier. Gentler and more... Well Geralt didn't know. He usually just makes it up to being Jaskier being raised by parents. Maybe this is how parents treat their children. Geralt really doesn't care.
Jaskier gently started to stress his hands over the scarred abdomen in front of him. He rubbed up and down and rubbed small circles. Geralt let out soft sighs and groans. Geralt spread his legs a bit and put his ankles on the outsides of Jaskier's.
Jaskier worked his way from Geralt's sternum down to his hips rubbing and massaging over and over again for almost an hour.
Soon enough Geralt's breaths slowed and when Jaskier looked at the Witcher's face, yep. Geralt was asleep.
"I'm happy to help you Geralt. I love you." Falling on deaf ears but still. Jaskier has to tell him.