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Geralt walked into the dimly lit shop, lack in customers, and small in size. The walls lined with leatherwork and buckles, knife handles, and woodwork displayed on one of the few tables lining the wall. The sparseness didn’t matter, the line of questioning had brought him to the hidden hole in the wall. For the reason as to why it was so hidden away, Geralt had some theories but he didn’t think he should be the one to ask the store owner.
Admittedly, he probably should’ve started looking in the smaller places. Of all the locations to lead him on the trail of a cursed vampire, he should have expected as much—
“Of course I have the payment! Despite the many rumors that claim I am a petty thief, good madam I swear unto you that I only steal the loving throes of the heart.”
Geralt frowned as he turned around the corner of the shelf, he knew a lie when he heard it. Especially since those words were falling from the man who started those rumors to begin with to curry a faux positive reputation.
Jaskier continued as he fiddled with a bag in his hands, “I’m a bard of my word first and foremost. Besides, your work has given me so much… inspiration in the past. Why if I'd known you made this work I would’ve written sonnets that spanned the continent for your… enticing pieces.”
The clerk blushed and chuckled at the bard leaning further over the counter, hooded eyes looking up at them. Geralt could practically taste the unrestrained lust in the air. Flighty and foolish.
Who was Geralt to ruin such a precious moment? Oh, right—
“Jaskier? What are you doing here?”
Jaskier nearly startled out of his skin, the bard jumped knocking his elbow against the counter with a harsh thump as something fell out of his hands.
“Fuck! Gods dammit— Ah, Geralt! What are you doing here?"
Geralt looked the bard up and down before settling on the man’s eyes. No piece was where it shouldn’t have been, the bard was whole, hale, and smelt hornier than a den of rabbits in the middle of mating season.
Good. That meant Geralt wouldn’t feel guilty for what he was about to do next.
Geralt stepped closer to the bard, in front of the clerk incidentally “I’m here for the contract.”
Jaskier and the clerk seemed to both choke on their spit as they both sputtered, “C—contract?”
Jaskier looked around the small shop and said quieter, “Here?”
The clerk looked just as startled, “Master witcher?”
Geralt glanced between them, “I was told I would find what I needed here. Do you know of a Lilith?”
“Uh, yes but—”
“Then you’ll know what I need.”
Geralt could practically feel the bard’s face flame from the few scant inches between them.
“Of course, as long as you have—”
Geralt plopped the bag of coins on the counter between him and the clerk with a jingling thud, there was a beat of silence as Jaskier and the clerk stared wide-eyed at the bag.
Geralt smirked and continued, “Add what the bard ordered as well and we’ll be on our way.”
The clerk stared at the bag for a moment more before muttering, “Ah—of course. One moment.” Before slipping away through the back behind a curtain covered the entryway.
Jaskier choked again, flailing next to the witcher. “Geralt!” he hissed. “I’m not sure you understand what is in that bag and I’d rather you not—”
“I know what store this is Jaskier. And against all greater judgment, this is a contract I’m fulfilling. I was overpaid. If anything I’m redistributing the wealth.”
Jaskier was shell-shocked for a moment, and Geralt thought he’d have a moment of reprise. No need to cause a scene—
“Geralt, this is a sex shop.” The bard unnecessarily clarified.
Geralt sighed a bit, “Yes.”
Jaskier turned the witcher to face him, repeating, “Sex. Shop.”
Geralt smirked, feigning indifference, “It’s not the first time I’ve been in a place like this, bard.”
Jaskier's face couldn’t be more red, “Well, I—”
And suddenly, Geralt couldn’t help himself as his smirk widened in a wry grin as he continued, teasing, “Never featured you a prude, Jaskier.”
Jaskier scoffed, the flush falling from his cheeks as Geralt saw the bard war between being embarrassed or undignified before he gained control over himself as he hissed tightly, “I was here first, mind!”
Geralt leaned forward, closer to Jaskier’s ear, “Then why are you whispering?”
Jaskier sucked in an outraged huff, “You know what—” then louder, “Shopkeep, Cateline, darling.”
The woman from before poked her head back from behind the curtain she left through, “Hm?”
Jaskier smiled at her as if he didn’t have a care in the world, “Could you perhaps throw in your recommended couple’s package?”
The woman’s eyes widened, “Sir—?”
Jaskier waved her off digging in his bag for his coin purse, “I’ll pay the added difference, but please; Your recommended?”
The shopkeeper, Cateline apparently, shook her head and nodded, “Right away sirs. One moment!”
Jaskier scoffed in offense, puffing himself up haughtily, “Just you wait, witcher. You’ll eat those words.”
Geralt crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging with the motion, and gave the bard a fond look, “Sure, bard. I’ll take your word on it.”
Jaskier panted into the bedsheets, “Tell me again why you needed sex oil for your “contract”?
Geralt frowned at him, “The same reason you needed to buy another phallus a month after the last one.’
Jaskier grinned, caught out but not ashamed in it, “Touche, witcher. Touche.”