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It was a quiet night, save for the breeze-brought rustle of dried leaves, a cricket's chirp, and the occasional caw from a nearby raven. These were the only sounds carrying through the cool duchy air as Regis was knelt down in the cemetery soil, his deft hands carefully plucking mandrake roots from the earth.
Above him, high over the canopy of trees, was a fat and gleaming full moon that broke through the foliage and kissed the headstones nearby. It was lovely. It brought to mind romantic images that one might find in a tragic book or a sweet poem, and the sight of it put the vampire at ease.
He was just pulling another root free when the distant sound of twigs snapping and those dried leaves crunching reached his ears. His hackles raised and he stilled his hands for a moment. He listened. Whatever it was, it sounded heavy - predatory in its steps, even - and it was quickly making its way closer.
Slowly, he stuffed the root into his bag and stood, eyes scanning between the surrounding trees and headstones. The sclera of his eyes began to darken and he felt the stiff twitching of his nails as they started to extend. Though his heartbeat picked up just a tad he stayed calm, but he briefly debated if he should just mist into the air and go back to the safety of his crypt.
He was beginning to wonder whether or not it might be a ghoul or a grave hag coming his way, but then the wind changed its direction and he was hit with a strong, gamey scent, one loaded in familiarity. Relief settled in him immediately, and the bat-like snarl of his lips melted back into something human again. His nails retracted and he took a step forward, glancing around at the tree-line with his ears perked at any sounds.
“Geralt…?” He called softly.
The approaching sounds faltered for a moment, then picked up again with a little more urgency. A tiny smile graced the vampire’s lips as the mystery beast finally broke through the shadowy cover of the trees and burst into view with its nose twitching and its long fingers flexing .
Moonlight reflected off of patches of thick, white hair and gave them an almost angelic aura, silver and glowing like a halo. Golden eyes, bright and focused and framed by scars, didn’t catch the moon at this angle, but Regis saw them clear as day as if the sun shone upon them. There, standing tall and imposing on his raised haunches, was Geralt of Rivia looking truly like the white wolf he was always made out to be.
Regis felt a hitch of excitement in his chest at the mere presence of the beast-man.
“I should have known. Hello, my dear.”
Something akin to a warped “ woof ” left Geralt’s jaws, and his wolfy nose tilted upward with a twitch and gave little huffs at the air to scent the vampire before him.
“Enjoying tonight’s full moon, I take it?” He took a careful step forward. While he had seen Geralt in this form before and knew the wolf-man had some semblance of the Witcher's usual sentience, this was still a monster and, beloved friend or not, it never, ever hurt to throw a bit of caution that way.
…After all, he had seen how one of those massive paws had swiped the head off a drowner as easily as a scythe sliced through wheat, and though it wouldn’t kill him, he still had no intentions of meeting a similar fate.
The werewolf didn't tense as the vampire approached him. His pointed ears perked forward with attention and his head tilted some, but he didn't move more than the continued snuffling of his nose and a swishing of his tail. Regis took this as an allowance to get closer, stopping only when he was a mere foot away from the beast.
“I almost never get to see you like this. Certainly, never so close,” he murmured. A shy hand rose up and gently carded the tips of its fingers through the white fur of Geralt's cheek. “Fascinating…”
Geralt leaned into the touch and headbutted Regis' palm with a nuzzle, encouraging further petting. A pleased growl reverberated low in his chest as those slender fingers slipped behind an ear and gave it a good scratch , those pointed nails appearing to reach all the right places .
Regis chuckled, cooing at his wolf at he raised his other hand to get at the second ear. “My, aren't you a lovely creature.”
The wolf let him scratch his ears a moment longer before ducking his head and nudging it forward into Regis' chest. The vampire grunted from the dull hit and snorted as the beast nuzzled and nudged into him, jostling the fur of his exposed neck with a shake of his head.
“Aha! Greedy, are we?” His fingers moved down to pet and scritch at Geralt's neck now, digging in and reveling in the feeling of the soft, but somewhat bristly fur there. He was tempted to wrap his arms around that thick neck and hug it much like one would with a normal canine companion, but the sniffing beneath him pulled him from his thoughts.
“Yes, it's still me, Geralt . You- Hey! Easy!” The vampire stumbled back a bit as Geralt's sniffing grew a little more invasive. Had he been aware, he wouldn't have moved an inch, but the sudden shove of that large snout into his lower belly had him caught off guard and tumbling.
If he could blush, he would have, and he dryly remarked, “Very funny, Geralt .”
The wolf seemed to have no care for the near fall, nor Regis' mild irritation, and instead continued to invade the higher vampire’s personal space with that cold, wet nose of his.
Large hands reached out to take hold of Regis' thighs as the other man began to back away again and kept him held firmly in place. The pinkish-black nose pressed into the vampire’s clothes as it explored, tickling some and making Regis shiver and shift uncomfortably with all the grazing along his middle.
With an awkward pat on that big, furry head, Regis muttered , “Yes. Uhm , I'm glad you seem to like my scent so much, but if you don't mind, could you please take that snout of yours somewhere else?”
He attempted to grab the sides of Geralt's huge head and push him back, but a sudden contact with his loins had his breath hitching and his hands going still. A second, nudging sniffle proved it was no accident, and a third had Regis lurching forward some with his hands beginning to fidget in the white fur. Again, if he could blush…
“ Geralt , you may be playing as a wolf right now, but you certainly don't have to imitate them to perfection.”
His voice wavered and another soft gasp left him as the flat, wet warmth of Geralt's tongue suddenly lapped against the front of his pants. Huge paws kept him planted there as the tongue darted out again, licking a few more times with some insistence. A low thrumming came from deep inside the wolf, and the vibrations of that sound moving along the tongue and snout made Regis grow hard and huff an awkward laugh.
Finally, he once more attempted to push the wolf's head away, remembering to use some of that vampire strength of his to wriggle out of the grasp on his thighs. Once free, he stepped back, raising a finger when the wolf immediately stepped forward with his nostrils twitching and his clawed fingers reaching.
“Now Geralt ,” he said, attempting to sound stern but with more shakiness in his voice than he'd like to admit. “You know better than that. I think . You can't just sniff and lick at me like I'm some potential mate when we've only just started trying things with you as a human-.”
He paused. The words ‘ potential mate ’ followed by an unspoken ‘ breeding ’ hovered around in his brain, and he felt the familiar ache of lust and curiosity ripple through him at an alarming strength.
Try as he might, he couldn't help the new... and rather filthy images that suddenly sprang to mind.
A million questions quickly flooded in, too, the ache of his curiosity growing stronger and beginning to rapidly overshadow the embarrassment he'd been feeling.
The werewolf twitched an ear and tilted his head. Lifting his nose to the air again, he caught the sharp, tangy scent of the vampire’s growing heat, and a growl shook loose from deep within his chest and curled his lips and bared his teeth. He shuddered, huffing, and his tongue darted out to lick his chops.
He took a step closer, looming over the smaller monster.
Regis took his own step back until a low headstone caught his heel and sent him tumbling for a second time. He didn’t bother trying to catch himself and instead sprawled upon the mossy dirt. In an instant, the wolf was on him, four powerful limbs caging around the vampire and keeping him pinned where he fell.
He noticed Geralt's breathing had picked up, and his scent had grown much stronger with a new animalistic rut to it, something heady and wild. The smell alone was enough to make his cock strain at his pants, and he allowed himself a deep inhale of it to rile himself further.
Those golden eyes, wide and with their pupils blown, stared down at him with such an intensity that it made another wave of lust roll over him. He was only able to look away by a tiny voice inside his head whispering at him to ‘ look down ’. He did, and his black eyes widened as he saw the angry red tip of the wolf's erection begin to jut from its sheath. Geralt’s slender hips gave a needy buck at the air between the two bodies, and the red tip slid out a little further, just barely grazing the buckle of Regis’ belt.
“Oh…”
He blinked slowly, the sclera of his eyes darkening once more, and his pointed fingernails dug and pulled at the damp soil beneath him.
He could smell it. He could smell his lover’s growing erection, and he could smell the droplet of precum that trickled from the tip and darkened the front of his gambeson with wet spots. The potent scent was certainly strong enough on its own, but he inhaled it as deeply as he would a fine wine, making a hard shudder rack his frame. He groaned.
Geralt rumbled and purred above him, scenting the vampire's own increasing arousal. With a low whine, he buried his face against Regis' neck and sniffed and licked at whatever skin he could reach. This broke Regis out of his haze, and with a blink, he took hold of Geralt's head and nudged him back until they were looking one another in the eye.
“Geralt, I-.” He wanted to do this. The swelling heat and that blasted curiosity were too much to resist, shame and awkwardness be damned. And... he couldn’t lie to himself when he knew, deep down, that this had been something deeply seated in the back of his mind ever since he first found out about Geralt’s lycanthropy.
But, despite this long-waiting desire, nothing would happen unless he knew this was what Geralt - the real Geralt under all that muscle and fur – wanted to as well.
He placed his palms against the wolf's cheeks to cup them, and he said with as much seriousness as his shaky tone could muster, “Witcher, are you in there? You need to tell me, if you can. I don't want some werewolf-y rut taking over if it's not you making the decision to let it.”
Geralt's pink tongue flickered out and brushed the tip of Regis' nose. The vampire could almost swear he saw a smirk hidden in those jowls.
“Yeah. I'm here.” The voice, while slightly warped and more gravelly than it normally was, was definitely Geralt's .
Regis smiled and shook his head, fingers brushing through thick strands of white. Now that consent had been properly established, the vampire misted out of his clothes and satchel, his now-naked body lying exposed in the moss.
He desperately wanted to ask so much, almost as much as he wanted to spread his legs and be taken right then and there, but he held his tongue and only allowed himself one question that spilled from his lips in a rough whisper.
“May I see you?”
It took a second for Geralt to understand, catching on when those black eyes seemed to flicker down between their bodies. Nodding, he pushed off the ground and stood to his full height, his cock slipping further from its sheath and bobbing a little with the movement.
Clawed fingers flexed as Geralt’s eyes roved over his lover’s bare body, drinking in the sight. His canine lips curled around bared teeth again, and he pulled long sniffs at the air. With a snarling groan and a jerk of his hips, Geralt was fully erect, the red organ dripping and glistening in the moonlight.
Beneath him, Regis whimpered and clutched a handful of grave dirt, his toes curling at the mere sight and scent of his lover like this. So big, so bestial, so... hungry-looking . He saw the beast’s fur flicker and twitch over a muscular body decorated in scars; he watched that barrel chest as it expanded with a deep, vibrating breath that misted in the evening air. Regis sighed, thoroughly entranced.
“Please…”
The werewolf was on him again, wasting no time as his snout started to roam and his tongue began to lathe and roll at the pale skin, clumsy but efficient in its exploring. Regis wrapped his arms around the beast’s neck and held on as he writhed and arched beneath him, moaning soft at each lick and nip he received from that frightening mouth. Even the brush of whiskers had him pushing upwards despite his ticklish squirming, and he couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly between his groans.
Geralt’s muzzle traveled further down until his tongue dipped into the junction between Regis' groin and thigh, pointedly ignoring the ache of the vampire’s erection. Regis thrust his hips up with need, smiling but sounding a little impatient as he teased, “So did you just come here to give me a bath, then, Geralt?”
The wolf snorted and gave something like a gruff chuckle that vibrated along Regis’ skin. He brought his head up to dart his tongue against the vampire’s neck and earlobe, rumbling soft and heatedly, “And you call me impatient.”
Regis bit his lip to hold back another moan, but the hard shudder of his body told Geralt more than enough about how this was affecting him.
He took the vampire by the torso and flipped him over with ease so that he was now face-down in the moss and soil. The sound Regis made at the small display of strength pleased Geralt, and he responded with a nip to the shoulders and a harmless drag of claws along the back that had his lover hissing softly. Planting his paws down on either side of Regis’ waist, the wolf gave one more teasing nibble before lapping and snuffling his way down the other man’s spine, and then even further down than that.
As soon as Regis felt the brush of tongue and the tickle of fur at his lower back, his hips were automatically rising up off the ground until they had him bent and presenting himself. A strange, riled sound left Geralt at the intimate view, and the even breaths against Regis’ skin quickly turned into heavy panting.
Geralt inhaled deeply, mouth beginning to overflow with drool as he practically tasted the mixed scents of musk and herbs and something purely Regis. It was a scent he loved as the Witcher, and it was one he obsessed over as the wolf.
With no more hesitation, Geralt’s paws snatched up Regis’ hips and yanked him backwards to bury his snout between the pale, firm ass-cheeks.
Regis yelped and grabbed at a clutch of moss, lip quivering with a long and shaky moan as a hot breath and cool nose brushed his entrance before being followed by a very wet, very insistent tongue.
“Elders, Geralt ...!”
The wolf’s tongue swirled and rolled, slithering down to tease along Regis’ balls and perineum and then up to flicker at his hole. The tip licked up with a swirl, and then fluttered against Regis with a clumsy lapping. Drool dribbled in torrents, and it slicked the skin like the oils kept in the surgeon’s bag. The fluid smeared thick and sticky with the beast’s twitching snout and muzzle.
The mess of it, as well as the taboo feel of an actual werewolf’s mouth between his legs, had Regis feeling so filthy, so good and excited, and he dropped his forehead into the soft moss with a breathless whimper.
The rest of his body nearly followed suit when that tongue began to prod at the ring of muscle, pressing and licking with insistence until it slipped in with some wriggling and then began to thrust itself in and out. Behind him, Geralt gave a gravelly moan at the taste, and Regis felt every single vibration from it shake into him.
“Geralt!” He panted, biting his lip as he clenched around the wriggling tongue. His thighs spread wider, and he rode his hips back against the wolf’s mouth. “Oh, Geralt, please! I need you!”
Then, softer and with some shyness, he turned his face towards the earth and uttered , “Breed me, Geralt ...”
It was almost a whisper, one that normal human ears wouldn’t have heard, but to the Witcher-werewolf it may as well have been screamed at his face.
The wolf tensed. Golden eyes became smothered in the black of blown pupils, and the fat, red cock between his thighs slapped against his belly with a rush of blood that made his head spin. Geralt drew back, tongue slipping free and lashing at his chops, and he stared down at the twitching, wet hole of his beloved. His chest ached with heaving breaths and his tail swished in excitement.
Regis tensed, fearing he’d said something wrong. He gave a hesitant look back over his shoulder.
“ Geralt ? I-.”
“ Say that again . ”
The demand was practically snarled at him, husky and rough as it rolled through clenched fangs.
When Regis looked back at him properly, the sight of his wolf made him weak in the knees and had his cock dribbling precum. He swallowed. With more confidence, he did as he was ordered qne said, “Breed me. Breed me, Geralt, fill me with your seed, please, I want to be yours.”
Regis had barely gotten the words out before Geralt had pounced on him, huge, muscular body trapping him between it and the ground. The maw of the wolf wrapped itself around the back of Regis’ neck, fangs not piercing skin but pressing just hard enough to mark it with a pattern of tiny bruises. He was helpless beneath the beast (or, at least, he allowed himself to be), and he could only claw at the dirt again as he felt the hard tip of Geralt’s cock jab for his entrance with sloppy thrusts that smeared cum in their wake.
When Geralt’s prick finally struck home, it plunged in and filled Regis to a shocking fullness that had the breath rushing out of his lungs. He whined, fangs breaking the skin of his lip as they bit down hard, and his poor hole clenched and squeezed against the massive length shoving inside him.
The slight bulge of a growing knot kept Geralt from fully meeting his hips with Regis’ own, and his body shook with the effort of keeping himself from thrusting harder so that the vampire could attempt to adjust comfortably.
“RRRegis,” He groaned around the neck in his mouth, his voice more of a muffled growl now than proper language. He released it and licked at the pinpricks of bruising before nuzzling his snout into the other man’s hair. “Are you...?”
A throaty chuckle poured from Regis, and he arched back against Geralt’s body, tilting his head into the nuzzling. The stretch of that cock burned and ached, but it was good, so good, and Regis could hardly get his next words out without panting. “I-I won’t break, my darling... Take me.”
Geralt grunted with relief as he finally allowed himself to move. His hips snapped forward, and Regis gasped, but he only pressed back at the contact. He wasn’t going to stop now, no, not when neither his curiosity nor lust had been properly sated. And that knot... he could feel the bulge push against his taut hole, and he desperately wanted to find out how it would feel inside him.
“Yes! Mmngh , Geralt! I... I can feel your knot!”
“Do you want it? You wanna take it, Regis?”
“Yes!”
Geralt moved his body up some and mounted Regis properly, big hands bracing themselves in the dirt as he began to piston his hips back and forth. Regis cried out, and one of his own hands leapt out of the dirt to grab at Geralt’s wrist and hold it tightly.
Above him, the wolf chuckled deeply. The sound melted into an almost purr-like groan, and he pounded into his lover, pressing Regis into the moss with each jerk of his hips. Geralt panted harder when he felt the front of his knot beginning to press harder into the rim of Regis, nudging with some desperation as it began to swell.
“ Hhhrrralmost ...” He growled, leaning back a bit to watch. “Spread yourself wider, c’mon.”
Regis did, his knees digging into the soil and shifting further apart, as far as he could comfortably go. He swallowed hard and gripped at Geralt and the earth like his life depended on it, anticipation making his undead heart hammer in his chest.
Before he could start a needy prayer for the knot to go in, it did, and with a slick, wet pop and a rough push that shoved Regis forward, it was thrust inside. Regis’ mouth dropped in a silent cry and his black eyes went wide and misty as he threw his head back, the hard swell of the knot pressing right against his prostate and making him cum instantly. His cock bobbed as it spilled his climax along his stomach and the ground, and his strength nearly went along with it
Behind him, Geralt’s own head flew upwards with a howling snarl at the sky that echoed throughout the moonlit cemetery and its barrier of trees and even further into the surrounding fields. The howl shook Regis and spurred his lust further.
Geralt lowered his head back down and gave a few more frantic, stuttering ruts before slowing to a halt as his knot swelled to its full size and his balls began to empty their seed.
Regis caught his breath and his face dropped against the dewy moss with a sob. His thighs quivered, and the rest of his body all but collapsed beneath him save his hips that were held up by the massive bulge stuck inside of him and keeping him close to Geralt. Thin rivulets of spit and cum trickled free from his stretched hole and rolled down along his thighs and belly and balls, and thick strings of werewolf drool dropped down and slid along the divots of his spine. The sensations had him shivering all over.
“Geralt,” Regis rasped. “My darling, you’re so...” He reached beneath himself and gently grazed the bulge in his lower belly with the tips of his fingers, smearing streaks of rapidly-cooling cum. A shaky smile graced his lips and he sighed almost dreamily. “... Big .”
Geralt huffed a chuckle and leaned down to nuzzle at the back of Regis’ head, smearing a little more drool on him in the process but the vampire didn’t seem to mind. Rather, he lifted a hand to caress Geralt’s furry cheek and press the wolf’s big head against his own, both closing their eyes in contentment.
“Wasn’t - mmhhhh - wasn't sure how you’d feel about this. Been meaning to ask.” Geralt rumbled, shuddering as his hips gave a lazy, involuntary thrust. Regis moved with a soft yelp, his fingers twitching in the thick white fur.
“I must admit, I-I've always been curious, especially – ah - especially when I found out about your own... condition .”
Another one of those wolfy chuckles had the hair on the back of Regis’ neck stand on end and goosebumps peppering his flesh. Geralt’s laugh already did that to him anyway, but now as a wolf it only amplified the effect.
The tickling of fur and whiskers certainly helped, too.
“So. Hhhave I ruined myself for you? Regular Geralt not gonna be able to do it for you anymore?”
The vampire could practically hear his lover’s grin with those teasing words. He snorted and scoffed, shaking his head slightly. “Oh please, I’ll happily take you any and every way, my dear. You’re a wonder.”
Geralt’s smirk softened, and he settled down against his mate, just enough to cover him with his body and press them together while he continued filling him. His long, muscular arms slid beneath Regis’ rounded belly and hugged him tight, making both men shudder and moan as the action had Regis unconsciously tighten just a little bit more.
“Think anything will try and take advantage of us while we’re in such a vulnerable position?”
“Mhhh, if they do, I guess we’ll find out if I can rip their heads off with one paw.” Geralt pecked a kiss against Regis’ temple.
“Hm. I must admit, I do have some interest in seeing something like that.”
“Cool it with the bloodlust there, Reg ’.”
Regis scoffed playfully at Geralt’s teasing. “If you insist. Kind of hard to do with you being so thrilling, though.”
“Hmm, hush.”
The pair lie there in the cemetery soil, moaning and sighing every now and again as they waited for the knot to soften. As some time passed, the moon drifted a little in the sky and the air of the night dropped a few degrees. It was quiet, peaceful, even, and th entirety of the graveyard seemed as relaxed as they were.
Over a half hour later, Geralt's knot began to shrink, as did the rest of his massive erection, and it was only a few moments later when he was finally able to pull himself free with a crude, wet ‘pop' that had Regis's knees buckling as torrent of cum spilled forth. The slick mess of fluids soaked Regis' pale skin and the earth beneath it, and the air filled with the strong scent of seed.
Before the vampire could properly register what was happening, Geralt had released him and shifted to stuff his face down towards his ass. A heavy warmth pressed against his tender hole and Geralt's tongue began to lap at the mess he’d made, big hands gripping the vampire’s hips and propping them up to better expose the loose entrance as he continued licking. His tongue flickered in and out of Regis, easily now that he had stretched him so, and dragged along his perineum and balls to catch the excess fluids. Geralt felt Regis' half-hard cock continuing to stiffen, and he growled low and pleased as he tasted precum there. His own cock, now fully flaccid, gave a single throb in its sheath, but he was more than sated enough at the moment and unable have another erection like the first one. Next, he moved his tongue to lap it along his lover’s quivering thighs, removing whatever trace of seed and sweat he could reach with each searching lick.
Regis lie there, half in the dirt and half in Geralt’s lap, purring quietly as he was cleaned. He’d need a real bath soon, of course, but that could wait until the morning. For now, he was perfectly content with letting the wolf run that large, pink tongue all over his body. The good feel of it was a bonus, too, and he couldn’t help the weak, half-hearted thrusts as his prick pulsed towards his second orgasm of the evening. It didn’t take long; overstimulated and exhausted, he was coming within mere minutes of that tongue first brushing against his skin, and he groaned in a ragged little breath against the moss beneath his face.
“Ah! Oh, Geralt … ”
The wolf hummed in acknowledgment, nearly snout-deep in the other man’s asshole, and a moment later he was moving to clean up the mess on Regis's belly, both dried and fresh. Regis squirmed at this, the whiskers and tongue and hot breath tickling his stomach, and he gave a harmless push at the glossy nose.
“Enough!” he laughed, pointed teeth showing with his warm smile. “Take me to my bed, dear wolf, for I fear I may pass out from sheer exhaustion right here in this cemetery dirt.”
Geralt rolled his eyes, but he was already moving to stand. He gave one last flicker of his tongue and then he had Regis rolled onto his front again, his yellow eyes catching a glimmer from this shining wetness between his lover’s spread thighs. The rim, stretched taut and unmoving just minutes ago, was now swollen and red, twitching with a slight gape in it as a bit of remaining cum dribbled free in a lazy couple of droplets. It glimmered under the moonlight, wet with seed and drool.
Unable to help himself, Geralt took a moment to admire his handiwork, an almost pleased smugness forming in his black lips.
Regis broke through the haze of reverie with a quiet clearing of his throat and a gentle tapping on Geralt’s thigh with one pointed fingernail.
“I’m delighted you find me to be such an fascinating specimen, but-"
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Spoilsport.”
Geralt knelt down and scooped Regis' lax form up into his arms, lifting him with ease as he stood and began stalking towards the crypt just up the slope.
A few ravens perching upon the nearby headstones squawked their acknowledgements, but the two men were otherwise ignored as they made their way into the stone building. It was cool and drafty, save for the quiet warmth of the torches – not that the chill really bothered Regis, even in his current state, but he buried himself a little closer into the fur of Geralt’s chest.
They made their way up the steps to Regis’ little loft area and towards the small bed where Geralt knelt and gently lay the vampire onto the mattress. The wolf looked him over for a moment, clawed fingers fidgeting a little, almost like he was bordering on anxious.
“You okay? I didn’t, hhhuhrhm ... hurt you or anything, did I?”
Regis smiled warmly and took one of those twitchy paws in his hands. He patted the back of it and carded his fingers through the fur. “I’m more than fine, my dear wolf-man. A little sore and quite exhausted, but I assure you, I am anything but hurt.”
Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes, but he was relieved. He was still getting used to this body, and he sure as hell was far from an expert on how to ‘safely’ make love as a massive, dangerous beast. But he also needed to remember that Regis was a higher vampire and not a delicate little flower. If the other man were in any real danger, all he’d really need to do was perform one good swipe of those vicious claws and that would be the end of that.
He was brought back to the moment as he felt a soft pressure against each of his knuckles, and he looked down to see Regis’ violet lips pressing little kisses to the bony protrusions of his hand. Black eyes glanced up at him with affection, and Geralt moved to cup his lover’s face in his padded palm. The two sighed, gold staring into black and cool skin pressed against warm fur.
“Have anywhere else to be this evening?” Regis asked.
“No. Maybe run around in a field and howl up at that full moon out there, but I can do that any ol ’ time. Got room for one more on that bed?”
“Always.”
Regis shuffled back towards the damp stone of the wall behind the bed and spared as much room as he could for Geralt. Which, really wasn’t much given the Lycan's size. Still, Geralt crawled forward and rolled onto his side, pressing his back against Regis’ front and curling in on himself some. His long limbs spilled off the mattress but he paid it no mind, rumbling comfortably when he felt an arm and a leg drape over him and pull him closer.
“ Mmh , you’re like a giant teddy bear.” Regis was muffled by the thick hair of Geralt’s scruff, but his snicker was heard clear as day.
A grunt. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Regis chuckled again, softer now, and leaned up a little to peck a kiss to the back of Geralt’s ear. It flickered, and Regis couldn’t help the small delight he felt at such an endearing, canid response. He nestled back down into the white fur and absently took note of the mix of strong, gamey, and very-Geralt scents there as he began to drift off to sleep.
A moment later, soft, reverberating snores proved that Geralt had found sleep, too.