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Geralt was making his way down the mountain. Winter in Kaer Morhen was always a time of relaxation and recuperation. The Path was not an easy one, and in recent years had become more and more lean with payments turning from gold to coppers more oft than not. People just didn’t have the money, so Geralt would save where he could which was usually food and accommodation.
A year of washing in streams and measly rations left him lean, hard muscle showing and very little body fat. Come spring however, after a season in the keep with Vesemir’s cooking, well, the white wolf looked positively round. He would gain all that puppy fat back, his stomach had a paunch, love handles and a thick layer of fat covered his otherwise toned and skilled body.
Geralt wished he’d not planned to meet with Regis so close to winter. He was, in fact, cursing his decision as he made his way down the mountain to where they were to “rendezvous” as the higher vampire was so inclined to call it.
He was excited of course, the long winter was a good time but also lonely, to be seperated from even the option of his lover’s embrace could be tourture on long cold nights. A hand wrapped around his cock as he dreamt of the Regis taking him, slow and languid and so utterly mesmerising in his ability to take Geralt apart with so little effort.
If he didn’t know better he’d be sure magic was involved in some way, but it was just Regis, the vampire had a way about him that utterly overtook Geralt in ways he could not explain.
He spent the whole trek so caught up in his own head that when he entered the tavern he completely missed the scent of his lover, instead going straight to the bar for a drink and sitting in a dark corner. Regis, who had scented Geralt as soon as he entered the town, took a moment to watch the witcher. It was so unlike him to not be on his guard, to not be aware of every little thing around him that Regis found it fascinating.
He would never use this to his advantage, never sneak up on the witcher, but to have a few moments where he could observe, well, he wouldn’t give up the opportunity. Geralt looked well, in fact it seemed that he looked healthy for the first time. Not having had a comparison before, Regis scolded himself internally for having not noticed how unhealthy the witcher had been before. This would not do and Regis would see to it that his lover would keep this delightful new look about him for the whole year.
Having taken his pleasure in watching, Regis coughed loudly and walked into the main room of the tavern. Geralt’s head shot up at the sound, eyes immediately looking away once he realised Regis was here. Interesting the higher vampire thought. Was that embarrassment he scented on the witcher?
“It’s a pleasure to see you well, dear one.” Regis greeted. He took a seat next to Geralt, passing a hand almost feather light over his thigh.
“Don’t.” Geralt grunted out, a horrified look on his face, ears pinking and that embarrassed scent steadily rising.
“My dear, you seem out of sorts. Should we take this to our room? Perhaps some privacy would help?” Regis was curious as to what was bothering the witcher. He wanted to find out, to ease his pain. He also wanted to lick the scent of embarrassment from his skin and bury his face in that beautiful roll of fat he could see slipping out the side of his armour around his hips.
“Come now, i’ll have them send up food and water for a bath and we shall iron all this worry out of your soul.” Regis said. He saw that Geralt seemed stuck with indecision, so took that away from him, holding a hand out and rising from his seat.
For his part, Geralt appeared relieved not to have to make up his mind, instead he slipped his hand into Regis’ and followed the vampire.
Their room was at the far end of the corridor on the top floor, as much privacy that could be afforded them in a tavern. It was a big room, with a seating area and table separated by a screen from the sleeping area. Regis led the witcher to the lumpy looking lounge and pushed him down, slotting himself between Geralt’s legs and looking down at him.
“My dear, won’t you look at me? I fear I've offended you in some way.” Regis asked, lifting Geralt’s chin with a finger. “There you are. What has you escaping my sight, did something happen over winter? Have I fallen from your favour?”
Geralt’s ears got impossibly redder, and the witcher seemed to fight with himself to keep his eyes trained on the vampire.
“I’m willing to let you forget your manners but only to a point, child. You will do me the honor of an answer before you incur my anger.” Regis continued. He sensed that Geralt needed an order or he’d stay on this precipice of embarrassment and indecision forever.
“No! Regis, it’s nothing, I'm sorry.” Geralt was quick to reply. Thinking he could sweep the last 20 minutes under the bridge. He was mistaken. Regis raised an eyebrow and leaned down to kiss the witcher. He didn’t taste a lie on his lips, so Geralt was telling some version of the truth. Still, he would not stand for this behaviour.
“And…” Regis prompted.
Geralt sighed, leaning forward to chase the lips that had offered comfort for the briefest moment. Finding himself lacking he leaned back with a huff. The slap that came swifter than even he could see shook him. His cheek stung and tears sprung to his eyes.
“Sorry.”
Regis didn’t move, stiller than was possible for any other creature, it always sent a shiver down Geralt’s spine to see him like this.
“Vater?” He asked, fear tinging his scent now. He was a wash with emotions unable to find and anchor to tether himself to while he found his words.
They were interrupted at that moment by the tavern maid bringing the tub and a procession of buckets of water. Regis took over immediately directing them where they must go, and allowed Geralt to find his bearings. Once the tub was full and food had been placed on the table they were alone again.
“My dear, let’s get you bathed and you can let me know your worries while I wash your hair.” Regis said, voice softer than before. He saw that flash of fear flick through his lovers eyes again, but left no room for discussion as he pulled Geralt up and started to rid him of his armor.
Geralt seemed slow to remove his last few layers, but Regis pushed him on, and when Geralt lifted his shirt to show off that gorgeous body, he couldn’t help but lean in while Geralt’s arms were still above his head, and placed a kiss to his throat.
Geralt visibly shuddered at the touch, gooseflesh raising all down one side of his body, the white hairs on his arms going rigid. He slipped off his braires and was in the water in a flash. Finally Regis saw the witcher relax, the water steaming hot, the tub big enough for his lover to submerge himself completely.
Regis dragged a stool over to the tub and sat himself behind Geralt’s head. He pushed lightly at the witcher’s shoulders to have him dunk himself under the water, when he reemerged Regis stroked a hand through his hair. “Now my child, tell me what has you in such a state. I would know what troubles you.” Regis asked, his hands never stilling in Geralt’s hair stroking, rubbing, tangling in the strands. He would anchor his witcher to the here and now so he may find his words.
“Forgive me please,” Geralt asked.
“I would forgive only what I know, and from you Geralt I would forgive anything.” Regis answered. He wouldn’t get out of it that easy, but he wouldn’t have him fear reprimand either.
“Winter’s are long at Kaer Morhen, not much to do but train and eat. Vesemir, he feeds us well.” Geralt stated.
Regis didn’t reply, instead he reached for the shampoo and started to sud up Geralt’s hair.
“I don’t think we’ve ever met so close after winter before.” Geralt said, pushing back into the firm hands on his head. “I carry a little more weight, fat and… ouch.” Geralt froze, the grip on his head had sharpened.
“Vater?” He asked with trepidation.
“Sorry, my darling. It is I who should be apologising, I did not mean to hurt you.” Regis said.
“Not hurt, just sharp. I.. you… I was worried you would hate me looking like this.” Geralt said. And there it was, out in the open. He readied himself for the confirmation, for a laugh, anything but what he got.
Regis continued washing Geralt’s hair, careful to still the anger in his veins from coming forth. “I could never hate you for being healthy, dear child. I find I am rather angry at myself for not noticing you were so malnourished in the past. That is what I am troubling myself with, what I find unforgivable.” Regis answered. He felt as the last of the tension slipped away from Geralt, and smelt the salt on the air before he saw the slight tremor that signalled the witcher was crying.
That would not do. He swiftly gathered Geralt into his arms, pulling him out of the bath bridal style, holding him, warm and dripping to his chest. “Shh, there there. You are forgiven my darling, let me tell you something shall I?” Regis whispered into Geralt’s hair.
Geralt sniffled but nodded, wrapping his arms around Regis’ shoulders to get closer to the vampire, even now Regis had a way to make him feel small and vulnerable.
“When I saw you at the tavern, I was in awe of you. I knew you were troubled, but that aside I took in your visage.” Geralt tried to hide his face at that, “No, don’t shy away, you will hear me now.” Regis said, pulling a huff from the witcher. “My goodness, I saw you healthy for the first time, your cheeks are full, your stomach round, and look at your hips. My dear child, you have never looked so good. I vowed in that moment to keep you looking this way all year.” Regis gently lay Geralt onto the bed, paying no mind to him still being wet.
He removed his jacket, as he watched Geralt start to preen under his gaze. “Yes, darling, be proud of that body that serves you so well. Show Vater how beautiful you are.”
That had Geralt arching off the bed, his cock starting to thicken between his thighs.
Regis rolled up his shirt sleeves to the elbow and moved to kneel on the bed between Geralt’s legs. Geralt automatically went to move, to help Regis disrobe but was corrected with a firm hand pushing against his chest.
“My darling one, it has been a long and lonely season for me, I want to take my pleasure in your body. You relax back and just feel.” Regis commanded. He leant down to kiss Geralt, slow, languid, he licked into his mouth and groaned at the contentment he tasted there.
Geralt did as he was asked, letting Regis take the lead and set the pace. He did not expect to feel so open and seen like this, but it turned out he didn’t hate it, as Regis’ mouth started to explore his skin as if it was a new and glorious discovery.
Regis licked his way down Geralt’s neck, taking the last of his embarrassed scent with him. He held himself over Geralt, hovering so the only point of contact was where his lips lay. He kissed over Geralt’s shoulder, nibbled ever so lightly over the raised ridge of scar tissue there before moving on down one arm. He lingered in the bend of his arm when he discovered it made Geralt sing such beautiful sounds.
He sat up to take Geralt’s hand in his own, he sucked each finger into his mouth and felt the weight of those strong fierce hands, -hands that had taken so many monsters' lives- heavy on his tongue. He watched Geralt as he seemed to come undone with lavish attention, he scraped his teeth across the thin skin of Geralt’s wrist again and again to watch his cock fill steadily at the action.
Taking his other hand he repeated the whole thing, before running his nose all the way up his arm nuzzling into his armpit until Geralt raised his arm above his head. Regis snarled when he scented the witcher here, almost a growl and the matching sound falling from Geralt’s lips was music to his ears. He licked long strips over his armpit; soap and sweat and the very male scent of Geralt surrounded Regis’ senses in the best way.
Geralt was struggling to remain still, his fingers twitched to touch, his knees kept drawing up, eager to expose himself further to the vampire. “My darling, you are doing so well for me, so good, such a good boy.” Regis praised. Delighting in the blush that spread from Geralt’s cheeks, down his neck and onto his beautiful full chest.
He couldn’t help himself when he lowered his mouth and sucked at the skin there creating a suction that would pull a bruise to the surface. Geralt’s answering moan matched his own when he scented the blood so close to the surface. The witcher’s nipples were always sensitive, he didn’t like anything rough there so Regis licked at the tiny buds before blowing cool breath over them to watch Geralt shiver and arch into the action.
“Beautiful,” He muttered to himself.
Regis moved on with his attentions, making Geralt’s head spin when he sat up and gathered one of his legs into his arms, holding it lovingly, stroking a hand up and down the inside from knee down his thigh as he sucked his big toe into his mouth.
His fingers lingered on the sensitive skin where his leg joined the body, skirting Geralt’s cock, now red and leaking precome against his stomach. He watched the rolls appear as he pushed Geralt’s leg closer to his body and was suddenly very very hungry. He smiled, full of teeth before slowly, achingly slowly, lowering the leg back to the bed and taking up the other.
This time he wanted to taste, bending to brush his nose behind Geralt’s knee then licking his way down the inside of his thigh. “Glorious,” He cooed. Geralt was shivering at every touch now, little puffs of air turning to moans and sighs, his voice running the whole gamut of pitches.
He’d been teasing his way over Geralt’s entire body for so long now that Regis thought it was time they both deserved a treat. His next lick moved over Geralt’s love handles, he couldn’t help himself as he sucked another love bite there before burying his nose into Geralt’s groin. His nose nudged at Geralt’s balls making his cock twitch just out of reach.
Regis huffed a laugh, “Soon my, dear one.” He said and finally added his hands to the mix.
Regis ran his hands up Geralt’s sides, up and down, then lay them over his hips, fingers flexing to feel the softness there. He nuzzled into Geralt’s stomach reveling in the feeling, memorising it so he had a goal to always strive for when looking after his lover. He would never see him hard and lean again.
Regis stopped in his movement, lifting his head he said, “Dearling?”
Geralt opened his eyes, centering himself to find his breath. He looked the vampire in the eyes, “Vater?”
“You may come when you wish.” That was all the warning Geralt got before Regis took his cock into his mouth and the head was hitting the back of his throat on the first move. Geralt’s scream would have been heard in the tavern below, Regis found he didn’t mind at all, in fact it sent a shiver of possessive pride through his body.
Where his attentions to Geralt’s body had been languid, unrushed, soft and full of worship; the way he sucked Geralt’s cock like he could suck his very core out of him was the complete opposite.
His cock having gone so long ignored, as it seemed every nerve on his body had been sparked alight had Geralt barrelling towards his orgasm faster than he’d have wanted. Yet Regis had said, and he seemed happy, greedy even in the way his tongue wrapped around him, cheeks hollowing out and then taking him impossibly deep with each bob of his head. Geralt did the only thing he could do - he did as he was told- lay back and felt.
The sparks started beneath Regis’ hands, where they lay over his hips. Any tension left in his body dissipated with those sparks as he followed their progression up his spine to tingle at the base of his skull. Shooting back down, his toes curled as his balls tightened, his stomach flipped and he was coming hard into the back of Regis’ throat with a shout and a moan that would have sounded filthy in even the most inequitable of whore houses.
Geralt felt himself float a little, somewhere between Regis’ mouth still gently sucking at his softening cock and the sheets that now somehow felt impossibly rough and soft at the same time. He couldn’t have told you how long he stayed in that place, only that when he opened his eyes again he was laying atop Regis’ chest.
Regis was naked now and Geralt could scent the vampires come, moving a hand he felt the drying seed against his stomach, he preened at the thought of being marked.
“There you are, my dear.” Regis whispered into Geralt’s hair, his hands rubbing soothing circles over his back.
“Hmm,” Geralt grunted in reply, too comfortable to form words.
Regis’ chest shook as the vampire laughed, “Glad to see you are feeling better.” He said, placing a kiss to Geralt’s temple. “Sleep now, you’re going to need it.”
Geralt could practically see the light glint of Regis teeth and the feral grin that accompanied his comment. As he fell asleep warm and sated he couldn’t wait for this new season.