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Jaskier can barely keep his eyes open. They've been walking for at least half a day with only a stop for lunch and Geralt may have inhuman stamina, but Jaskier does not. He stumbles over his feet and Geralt, to his credit, gives him a sympathetic look and slows Roach. Part of Jaskier is pleased about it, but another part wants to remind Geralt that he could just let him up there if he was really feeling sympathetic. There have been places to stay, but none with space for the both of them or willing to house a Witcher through the night. So Jaskier pushes on because he doesn't want Geralt sleeping out in the cold for him.
It's another couple of hours before they come across another town and Geralt immediately guides them toward the inn. He dismounts, leaving Roach tethered to the fence and Jaskier sighs. That's not a good sign. Jaskier follows Geralt up the steps and into the common room of the inn. It's unsurprisingly quiet for so late at night, but the innkeeper is still standing behind the counter.
He smiles when he sees them, but Jaskier can see the weariness behind his smile and he sympathizes.
"We need a room for the night, my companion is exhausted and the nights are cold." It's true, Jaskier thinks, but he'd rather sleep outside in the cold with Geralt than leave him outside on his own. More and more, that's looking like the only option.
"We've only got the one room," the innkeeper says solemnly, "just a single bed, I'm afraid."
"That's fine," Geralt says and for a second, Jaskier's heart leaps. They've never discussed sharing a bed, but now that the thought is there, it's all he can think about.
Geralt is warm and Jaskier always sleeps better when he's sleeping with someone. He likes the coziness of it, the warmth, the comfort of just being with someone even just for the night. And now that he's thinking about it, he's delighted to hurry up to their room and crawl into bed with Geralt. It's been a long time since he's shared a bed with someone and he's eager to get to bed as soon as possible. But as Geralt finishes talking to the innkeeper, Jaskier's hopes are dashed.
Geralt turns to him, smiling softly and hands him the key to the room.
"You take the room," he offers, "I've slept outside in worse weather than this."
"Geralt," Jaskier starts, but Geralt assures him he'll be fine, leaving no room for arguments as he turns back toward the door.
The innkeeper mumbles directions to the room and tells Jaskier he's turning in for the night. Jaskier nods quietly, but as he makes his way to the room, he's disappointed. He's thankful for Geralt offering him the room; after they've turned down so many, there's no reason for him to pay for a room now unless it's solely for Jaskier's benefit. He feels guilty about it, but the inn is warm and Jaskier doesn't want to discourage Geralt's generosity.
He goes up to the next floor and opens the door to a dimly lit room. He lets it shut quietly behind him and rests his things at the end of the bed before crossing to the fireplace. He's cold and tired, but his mind keeps going back to Geralt out in the cold alone. Maybe he's a Witcher, but that doesn't mean he's immune to the cold and it doesn't mean he shouldn't have nice things.
When the fire is lit, Jaskier crosses over the bed wishing he weren't so alone and trying not to think of Geralt out in the cold. He'd be so much happier, he thinks, if he would just come inside and curl up in bed with him. Jaskier climbs into bed, warm but unhappy and still worrying for Geralt. The sheets are soft, softer than he would have expected for an inn in the middle of nowhere, but maybe that's just because it's been so long since he's had a bed to sleep on.
Which only makes him sadder for Geralt. Without thinking, Jaskier throws the covers off himself and climbs out of bed again, wrapping the top blanket around himself before stumbling down the stairs and out into the cold. He knows Geralt well enough by now to know the kinds of places he likes to make camp and it doesn't take him long to find him.
When he does, Geralt jumps up and crosses over to him, rubbing his hands down Jaskier's arms.
"What are you doing?" he asks, frowning at him.
"Please come to bed," Jaskier breathes, "it's so cold out here and there's plenty of room in the bed for both of us."
It's a lie; the bed is large enough for one certainly, but not for the both of them to sleep side by side. Jaskier doesn't mind. He'd give up his own comfort for Geralt any day sync curling up with him hardly seems uncomfortable.
"I don't want to bother you," Geralt says and it's far more generous than he usually is, so Jaskier almost laughs.
"I assure you, you won't be. I sleep much better with a warm body next to me. Even with the fire, there's a chill in the room and I don't know that I'll sleep peacefully on my own." Geralt gives him a look and Jaskier pushes a little further. "You wouldn't want me to have a bad sleep now, would you?" and Geralt sighs.
Because as much as Geralt grumbles and groans about it, he really does take care of his companions, even if it's just ensuring Jaskier has somewhere warm and comfortable to sleep. Jaskier practically skips back to the inn with Geralt in tow, and they leave Roach at the stables, tucked into her own little stall, before heading back inside.
Jaskier can see the way Geralt relaxes a little in the warmth and he hates the fact that Geralt would have just let himself freeze out there in the grass. But he doesn't mention it. He herds him up to the room and when the door is locked and shut, Geralt strips out of his clothes and climbs into bed, though not without a little huff of complaint. Jaskier doesn't mind though, because when he slides into bed after him, the heat from Geralt's body radiates out and he shuts his eyes, basking in it.
He falls asleep rather quickly, without even getting to fully enjoy having Geralt in his bed, but he wakes only a little while later, to Geralt moving around in his sleep. A bad dream, he thinks, and he dreads to think what kind of nightmares plague a Witcher.
Curling closer, Jaskier slides a hand tentatively down his arm. When Geralt doesn't wake and doesn't complain, Jaskier slides an arm around him, bringing himself closer. With his chest pressed to Geralt's back he can smell the scent of his skin, the lingering scent of soap in his hair, and he smiles to himself. There aren't words to describe how much he loves Geralt or to dictate all the ways he loves him, but someday he'd like to try. Gently, he presses his nose against the back of Geralt's neck, placing a soft kiss there, and he shuts his eyes and falls asleep.
Jaskier doesn't wake again until morning, but when he does, there's a heavy weight against him. He'd dreamt about Geralt and at first, he assumes the feeling is a lingering remnant of the dream, but then there's a soft, contented sigh from behind him and he remembers.
A grin spreads across his face and he shifts slightly, revelling in all the places they're still touching, though they've switched places. Geralt is now wrapped around him, one arm slung low over his hips beneath the blankets and as Jaskier blinks awake, Geralt's fingers slip across his skin, running softly up his thigh.
"Good morning," Jaskier mumbles. He turns onto his back and Geralt shifts to look down at him, a soft smile on his face.
"Mm, good morning. Do you always talk in your sleep or just when you have someone in your bed?" Jaskier pulls back, frowning.
"I don't talk in my sleep."
"No? Then you were awake when you told me I smell nice? Or that you love me more than your lute?"
Jaskier's cheeks burn and he ducks forward, burying his face in Geralt's chest which, coincidentally, does smell nice. Geralt chuckles and pulls him closer, pressing his nose into his hair.
"D'you really love me more than your lute?" Geralt teases and Jaskier mumbles. "What was that?" Jaskier pulls back, staring up at him.
"Yeah," Jaskier whispers, pressing a hand to Geralt's chest. "I do."
"Oh." The smile fades from Geralt's face, replaced with a look of surprise, like somehow after all these years, he might still think Jaskier doesn't absolutely adore him.
"Geralt?" he asks softly, "why do you think I wanted you to come in last night?"
"Because it was cold."
"Because I didn't want you sleeping in the cold. Because I care about you, darling. Because I love you." Geralt looks stunned, so after a beat, Jaskier reaches up, brushing his fingers along his cheek. "More than my lute."
"That's… a lot," Geralt says like he doesn't quite believe him. Jaskier decides to spend the morning convincing him of it.
"Oh, my darling, you have no idea."