"Right. Wouldn't do to collapse while standing. If nothing else I'm not sure there's enough floor space to lay down."
He's joking. There's enough. Barely.
Along with needing to sit, Cooper is going to need access to his thigh. The shirt is just long enough to reach the tops of them, barely enough to grant a breath of modesty to the bard... there's not much point given Cooper's already seen all of him, but it feels different when he's actively, erm, interested.
He'd rather not be. It's slightly embarrassing. Only slightly, though. Given his own actions, Jaskier would bet that if Cooper isn't enjoying this too he's at least enjoying what it's doing to Jaskier. Tugging at the ties of the thin trousers, he tugs them down and off, tossing them onto the bed before sitting in the chair. Thighs spread, invitingly.
"I'll haunt the shit out of you, too, if you kill me. Even by accident. Just so we're clear."
They've both seen all of each other at this point, but it had never been like that. Okay, maybe a little. It's not like Cooper hadn't looked, hadn't had some thoughts that would be deemed impure about the bard on more than one occasion, but in his head such things weren't really a priority for him.
Nor did he think it would ever be a possibility.
Yet here he was, watching as Jaskier stripped just to his undershirt and sat, the shirt barely covering him. It's the hunger that's the forefront of his mind right now, but he'd be lying if he didn't find the sight alluring. Coming to stand in front of Jaskier he looks at him, eyes roaming over him with a mixed hunger.
"You keep a good hold on that knife then." Said as he moves to his knees between the bard's thighs. Hands rest on either leg, spreading them just a little wider, eyes peering up at Jaskier from under lashes that have no business being as long as they are.
"Give me one chance first, before you stick me." One stop, one no. Something, give him one chance to still be seen as a man before he's too far gone and needs to be put down as the monster he's been made to be. Request made, he leans down, pressing his mouth against the warmth of Jaskier's thigh, breathing out hotly against his skin.
"Only as a last reso--ooh-" Jaskier's agreeing promise gets cut off and he almost drops that damn knife at the first feel of a warm mouth against the soft skin of his thigh. Maybe it hadn't been that long for anyone else, but Jaskier was used to spending his own colder season over-wintering in a big city with a new bed partner every night if he wanted, though he more often found a favorite at least for the season. The point was even if it had only been a little more than a week at this point, that was still seven days longer than he was used to going without someone's touch in such an intimate manner.
'Focus, he needs to eat, you're trying to help him see if he can sustain himself like this,' he reminded himself. Tried to remind himself. Gods, he loved the feel of lips and hot breath and the scrape of teeth against his thighs.
It's hard not to feel a different heat of his own the way Jaskier reacts to his touch, to his mouth. A different hunger starts to mix with the need to feed. As his mouth works down onto his softer inner thigh, Cooper let's his teeth tease there, wanting to bite, to tear at his flesh.
He has to pause for a few seconds, breathe in, breathe out, this isn't about devouring him, just a taste. As his mouth continues to press open mouthed kisses against his skin, teeth not yet sinking in fully, his hands slide up further, fingertips just barely under the shirt that covers the bard's modesty. Cooper wants him to be relaxed, too tense and it will probably hurt more than it needs too. While Jaskier's heartbeat is definitely quicker, it's evened out enough that he feels like it's the right moment as too sharp fangs at the front of his mouth finally puncture the softness of his thigh. Just deep enough to make him bleed, not enough to be dangerous.
When Jaskier's blood touches his tongue he moans, it's an obscene sound, but he's hungry. Hungry and as he laps and sucks eagerly, it's not even that it tastes good, it's that finally he's having something that will tame the monster in.
Jaskier saw what those teeth could do, but try as he might it was difficult to remember anything about the death of the witch and Cooper's making a meal out of her. Not when that warm mouth is so gentle against his inner thigh, when Cooper spent a night holding him close as fitful sleep worked the fever out of Jaskier's body.
It should hurt when Cooper's teeth finally puncture skin. It does hurt, but even with that sharp sting of pain there's a heady rush of pleasure right there along with it that has Jaskier almost moaning along with Cooper. And Cooper's moan -- Jaskier's dick is quickly going from 'mildly interested' to standing to attention. The knife clatters to the floor, forgotten, as Jaskier's hands go to grasp at Cooper's jacket instead. Not to stop him, just to hold on.
The clatter of the knife should startle him, but he doesn't get a moment to realize when Jaskier's fingers are curling in the shoulders of his duster. The way he moans along with him, the explicatives that leave his lips, someone is enjoying this.
Cooper can't help but enjoy it too. Continuing to feed, to suck and lick the blood into his mouth he eventually sits back, mouth open, tongue lapping out at the blood that's made a mess of his lips and chin. His gaze is darker as he looks at Jaskier, sees how very obvious the bard is hard from this, tenting the bit of his shirt that barely hides him.
"Dirty little bird, heh..." Cooper chuckles, teeth showing, tinted by the blood he'd taken from him. Blood that's dripping down Jaskier's thigh now, trailing down to start to pool on the chair. He'll lean back down, lapping the mess from the chair, then chases the blood back up to the mark he'd left on him. It would be rude to waste any food. Especially food so nicely given to him.
A mouth covered in blood - in his own fucking blood - shouldn't make Jaskier hard but there's no denying that if nothing else it's not a dealbreaker. He'd always gotten lowkey hot and bothered when Geralt came back from monster hunting with those extreme potions still in his system, eyes full black with it spider webbing out across the veins of his face.
Other people, most people, found this to be the moment when witchers looked like the monsters everyone secretly suspected them of. The first time Jaskier saw it he wondered if sex with one while on it would be different and gods he wanted to try. So. Maybe he always had a broken response to these things. It's enough blood to leave him just on this side of woozy, though that could be that he was so recently sick and seeming fully recovered is not the same as 'seemingly fully recovered only to immediately suffer some blood loss'. Nothing that put him actually at risk, provided he didn't get stabbed too badly himself for another couple weeks.
"Fuck off," he groused a little bit at the accusation, the blood loss and hard-on making his reactions not as fast. "Anyone would, with this."
"Dunno bout that." Muttered between his tongue roughly lapping at his thigh. That blood coming from it is starting to slow, which is a good thing really, but he wants more. Greedy of him, but he can't help that it's really hitting the spot. Cooper wants to bite him again, draw more blood, but he's got to hold himself back. So for now he takes whatever he can get, until the bite he's left seems to have decided he's had more than enough for the time being.
Resting back on his haunches Cooper wipes at his face with a hand, staring at the blood before he decides better not waste it. His eyes drift to Jaskier's hardness barely contained under his nightshirt, then flicker up to look the bard in the face.
"Can you handle that or- well you been real sweet and all..." His hands rest on Jaskier's thighs, slowly moving up and under that shirt, holding his hips. Maybe he's being a little too assuming, after all maybe Jaskier just likes a little pain, it's not like he'd get hard cause of him...
It's on the tip of Jaskier's tongue to say he doesn't have to do that, not if he's not interested, but the sounds Cooper made...
Jaskier's not sure he's ever made one like that strictly for a meal before. He takes a chance and makes an assumption.
"You going to be sweet to me?" Jaskier asks, breathing hard as Cooper slides his hands up under that long shirt, holding onto his hips. He should bandage the bite, just to be sure, but... instead he leans down to kiss Cooper, wondering what his own blood tastes like, if it's different as an aftertaste on Cooper's tongue.
At this point Cooper isn't sure what he expects, but it's not a kiss. Truly it catches him off guard, there's a stillness on his part as Jaskier presses their lips together, but he doesn't stop him or push him away. When's the last time he'd been kissed?
... it had been terse, Barb relenting to him apologizing for upsetting her. He'd been questioning her involvement with The Vault more often, questioning things he'd seen or heard. Cooper had hugged her from behind, apologized, that he knew she was doing this for them and he loved her. The kiss she'd pressed against the corner of his mouth hadn't been her accepting the apology, but he thought it was something. That they would work through it, they always had before. Not a day later everything happened. For almost a year now he'd been this monster of a man, no longer himself, and half of that time had been wasted chained to a fucking wall by that bitch Iosith.
And here, knelt between Jaskier's thighs, barely a couple weeks into traveling together, the bard kisses him with no hesitation. Kisses the monster who could kill him if his hunger ever consumed him. Kisses him when he's still got his blood on his lips and in his mouth. It takes what feels like minutes, truly it was a handful of seconds, for him to shake off the surprise before he answers the kiss back.
"Not sure I've got much sweetness left in me." His voice comes out softer than he expected. His hands grip at Jaskier a little tighter, thumbs rubbing circles in the crease where thigh and hip meet.
"But maybe I wanna taste more of you." If he's willing to trust that mouth of his on his body more than he already has.
He shouldn't. Not after what he's seen Cooper do, no sane person probably would. At least not with bare minutes between the acts.
"You've been plenty sweet so far," Jaskier murmurs against Cooper's mouth, the iron and salt tang hot against his own tongue. He shouldn't. He shouldn't.
Jaskier's never been good at denying his own wants, and Cooper's hands on his hips feel so fucking good.
"Whatever you want," Jaskier agrees to, a dumb thing to say with the knife forgotten on the floor. He doesn't care.
He'll have to ask later what Jaskier's definition of sweet is. Until then he's got permission to go ahead to do whatever he wants. Dangerous really, but he's starting to gather that perhaps the bard likes danger, to a degree.
"Don't say that, might take you up on it." A little smile tugs at his lips. Finally though he'll lift the shirt to expose Jaskier's cock. If he had any doubts the bard had gotten off on him feeding off him well, he certainly knew better now.
"Might not be a compliment, but I'm taking it as one." His hands find Jaskier's hips again as he leans down, tongue lapping out to taste the wetness at the head of his cock. The mix of blood and come probably would be a stronger flavor back before this, but along with his sense of smell his sense of taste had been dampened too. It was nothing offensive to his taste buds at least and maybe more than anything he wanted to hear that pretty mouth cuss again because of him.
Oh, it was a compliment, and Jaskier was soon grasping at the back of Cooper's coat once more, panting and swearing as he felt that wet tongue against his cock. Wet with his own blood too. Fuck. Fuck.
"It's a - a fucking compliment alright," Jaskier hissed out between gritted teeth, squirming in the chair. "Gods it's been forever- fuck-"
It had been slightly more than a week, which Cooper knew for certain.
It goes straight to his own head, ahem both of them, that Jaskier is so sensitive and reactive.
"Forever?" Cooper's lips are a smirk against the underside of the bard's cock. He mouths along it, down, teeth light and teasing.
"The witch was too good to use her pretty mouth on you?" She was good at using it in other ways. Talking. Always talking. She loved the sound of her voice, honestly looking back on it he wonders if she kept him around just to have someone to listen to her talk talk talk. Cooper on the other hand is not above using his mouth on the bard, moving back up to suck the head of his cock into his mouth, tongue swirling around the underside.
The witch did not in fact use her mouth on him like that, so it had been two weeks and some change since he had that particular pleasure. Two very long weeks, alright. Jaskier didn't consider himself a hedonist, he was just very comfortable with the pleasures that the flesh could offer and didn't see a point in denying them to himself.
"Your mouth is getting - getting prettier by the minute. Fuck-!" Jaskier exclaimed, unable to resist a little jolt of his hips, cock already weeping precome from the excitement.
Cooper sincerely doubts his mouth looks pretty at all, but there's something about being praised by the bard right now. About him finding pleasure because of him, the cant of his hips into his mouth.
It's been a long time, an actual long time, since he's been touched without malice. That anyone has looked at him without disgust or hate. Cooper thought he didn't care about any of that, he hadn't, his life wasn't about this anymore.
Living was just to get Janey back. To destroy The Vault. Yet as he closes his eyes and takes more of Jaskier into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat, he can't help but crave the positive attention. Cooper groans around Jaskier, bobbing his head, tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock.
Jaskier also has a varied eye for beauty, as anyone who gets to know him notices. It's something he's proud of, seeing what other people overlook, what they dismiss out of hand because they aren't paying attention. Not that he's sure they would have ended up here quite so fast if it didn't turn out Jaskier, apparently, had quite a kink for being bitten and Cooper needed to do some biting.
(Later on he might worry about possibly taking advantage. Right now it felt too good to think about anything else.)
He could try to push himself to last, but there's no real reason to. This whole encounter going this way was unexpected, and soon enough Jaskier's panting harder than before, giving a warning tug to the back of Cooper's jacket.
This isn't where Cooper ever expected he'd be concerning the bard, not in a lifetime, but life was strange. His hunger had been purely that, hunger, craving, a need, but not in that way.
At least it wasn't supposed to be. It had quickly changed when he was knelt between Jaskier's thighs, the bard's modesty barely covered by his shirt, obviously turned on by things before he even bit him. And here they were. Cooper hears the warning, doesn't even consider for a second to stop or pull away.
He's hungry for it, in both ways of the meaning. His mouth slides up, bobbing and sucking just the head of his cock as a hand wraps around Jaskier, grip firm and pumping him to encourage him to give him what he wants.
Jaskier was aware of how impolite such things coming as a surprise could be from both sides of that equation. He's certain Cooper understood his warning, though. Had to, with the way he sucked even harder at Jaskier's cock, the way he worked it with even more gusto than before.
The bard lets out a wordless cry that could be a distant relation to Cooper's name as he spills into the other man's mouth, vision going white and that perfect euphoria blotting out everything but the pleasure of the moment. When it fades he's panting for breath even harder than before, skin flushed and limbs feeling heavy with sated pleasure.
As Jaskier finishes he swallows it down just as eagerly as he took him in his mouth. There's really no taste for him, but it's not about that. Making sure to stroke every bit out of the bard that he can, he'll finally pull his mouth off him, his head shifting back down to lap at the bite mark on his thigh, the little bit of dried blood there a chaser to his release.
Sitting back on his haunches he does pause to take in the sight of Jaskier. He's quite the sight all flushed and content from his orgasm. He has a few impure thoughts about other things he'd like to do to him, but he pushes them out of his head, much like how he pushes up to his feet.
"Give my regards to the chef." He'll pluck his hat up to place it back on his head with a cheeky nod, before turning towards the door again.
Jaskier blinks slowly as he comes back to awareness, exhausted in multiple ways now. He shivers slightly at the lick to the bite on his leg - damn he will need to probably wash and bandage that, just to be safe - but as he's trying to gather his thoughts back into some semblance of order Cooper has the gall to stand up like he's about to leave!
Well, he probably can't go far, not unless he intends to leave Jaskier behind and he seemed very adamant about his initial task which they still haven't done yet, so... unlikely... still.
"Where are you going?" Jaskier asks, tiredly, sitting up in the chair. Honestly he looks even more a wreck from sex now than when they first met.
Jaskier did have the gall to look offended by Cooper's sarcasm about the question.
"Well, if you're going to be an ass about it I'm definitely not going to now. Fine, go wherever. If you're not back by the time I finish my bowl I'm eating yours too."
Only Jaskker could attempt some kind of indignant anger when he was post-orgasm mussed with his dick still out.
Jaskier has the gall to look offended, but Cooper kind of just. Awkwardly stands there staring at him from under his hat like he isn't sure how to take all that. Tugging the scarf up around his face he looks away from the bard.
"You can have both, I'm full." And he does step out for some fresh air. He needs to clear his head after all of that. It's about an hour that he's gone and no he didn't eat anyone, honestly the blood from Jaskier had sated his hunger a lot better than either of them probably thought it would. Which is good, it's... Cooper prefers that over tearing into someone like a freshly cooked ham.
Everything else that happened was just... an effect of the feeding. It's not like Jaskier actually wanted to touch him in kind, but as he comes back to their room he's still thinking about how the bard's mouth felt on his. Closing the door and securing it he'll get more comfortable, hat, duster and scarf removed and his boots taken off. The fireplace is dim so he goes to toss another log into it. Can't let the bard be cold after all.
Jaskier spent several minutes after Cooper left letting himself just feel annoyed and angry and especially bothered that a perfectly good orgasm was ruined. He always found he got over feelings faster if he let himself truly wallow in them, and after a few minutes the pain in his thigh hurt worse than in his heart so he got up to grab his bag for those supplies. Bite mark washed and wrapped. Mainly to keep anything out rather than in, Cooper had done a good job at where and how deep he bit and it only bled with pressure applied now.
The he does eat both bowls of food. No sense in it going to waste, it's very good. Well, for the standards of this far away from a major city anyway.
And by the end of that Jaskier still is post-orgasm, on just the right side of over-full, and aside from a little sweat from that orgasm still nice and clean from the bath with a warm room. It's hard to stay upset on any level with such creature comforts around, even if he's mildly worried that the blood was not enough and he'll have to hear about someone going missing in the morning...
No, he had to trust it would work, that Cooper's comment about being full wasn't entirely sarcasm.
He's curled up in the bed and half asleep already by the time Cooper comes back, stirring at the sound of him entering into the room. The fire's gone down enough to leave everything too dark to make out details, but he can see Cooper's frame silhouetted against the light from the fire place as he tosses another log on. Sitting up slightly - just enough that the shirt collar slides a little off of one shoulder, blankets slipping to his waist, Jaskier waits until he's done to speak.
"Coming to bed finally?" he calls out, voice still thick with sleep.
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He's joking. There's enough. Barely.
Along with needing to sit, Cooper is going to need access to his thigh. The shirt is just long enough to reach the tops of them, barely enough to grant a breath of modesty to the bard... there's not much point given Cooper's already seen all of him, but it feels different when he's actively, erm, interested.
He'd rather not be. It's slightly embarrassing. Only slightly, though. Given his own actions, Jaskier would bet that if Cooper isn't enjoying this too he's at least enjoying what it's doing to Jaskier. Tugging at the ties of the thin trousers, he tugs them down and off, tossing them onto the bed before sitting in the chair. Thighs spread, invitingly.
"I'll haunt the shit out of you, too, if you kill me. Even by accident. Just so we're clear."
He didn't sound actually worried about it.
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Nor did he think it would ever be a possibility.
Yet here he was, watching as Jaskier stripped just to his undershirt and sat, the shirt barely covering him. It's the hunger that's the forefront of his mind right now, but he'd be lying if he didn't find the sight alluring. Coming to stand in front of Jaskier he looks at him, eyes roaming over him with a mixed hunger.
"You keep a good hold on that knife then." Said as he moves to his knees between the bard's thighs. Hands rest on either leg, spreading them just a little wider, eyes peering up at Jaskier from under lashes that have no business being as long as they are.
"Give me one chance first, before you stick me." One stop, one no. Something, give him one chance to still be seen as a man before he's too far gone and needs to be put down as the monster he's been made to be. Request made, he leans down, pressing his mouth against the warmth of Jaskier's thigh, breathing out hotly against his skin.
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'Focus, he needs to eat, you're trying to help him see if he can sustain himself like this,' he reminded himself. Tried to remind himself. Gods, he loved the feel of lips and hot breath and the scrape of teeth against his thighs.
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He has to pause for a few seconds, breathe in, breathe out, this isn't about devouring him, just a taste. As his mouth continues to press open mouthed kisses against his skin, teeth not yet sinking in fully, his hands slide up further, fingertips just barely under the shirt that covers the bard's modesty. Cooper wants him to be relaxed, too tense and it will probably hurt more than it needs too. While Jaskier's heartbeat is definitely quicker, it's evened out enough that he feels like it's the right moment as too sharp fangs at the front of his mouth finally puncture the softness of his thigh. Just deep enough to make him bleed, not enough to be dangerous.
When Jaskier's blood touches his tongue he moans, it's an obscene sound, but he's hungry. Hungry and as he laps and sucks eagerly, it's not even that it tastes good, it's that finally he's having something that will tame the monster in.
Or he hopes so.
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It should hurt when Cooper's teeth finally puncture skin. It does hurt, but even with that sharp sting of pain there's a heady rush of pleasure right there along with it that has Jaskier almost moaning along with Cooper. And Cooper's moan -- Jaskier's dick is quickly going from 'mildly interested' to standing to attention. The knife clatters to the floor, forgotten, as Jaskier's hands go to grasp at Cooper's jacket instead. Not to stop him, just to hold on.
"Oh - fuck, fuck-"
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Cooper can't help but enjoy it too. Continuing to feed, to suck and lick the blood into his mouth he eventually sits back, mouth open, tongue lapping out at the blood that's made a mess of his lips and chin. His gaze is darker as he looks at Jaskier, sees how very obvious the bard is hard from this, tenting the bit of his shirt that barely hides him.
"Dirty little bird, heh..." Cooper chuckles, teeth showing, tinted by the blood he'd taken from him. Blood that's dripping down Jaskier's thigh now, trailing down to start to pool on the chair. He'll lean back down, lapping the mess from the chair, then chases the blood back up to the mark he'd left on him. It would be rude to waste any food. Especially food so nicely given to him.
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Other people, most people, found this to be the moment when witchers looked like the monsters everyone secretly suspected them of. The first time Jaskier saw it he wondered if sex with one while on it would be different and gods he wanted to try. So. Maybe he always had a broken response to these things. It's enough blood to leave him just on this side of woozy, though that could be that he was so recently sick and seeming fully recovered is not the same as 'seemingly fully recovered only to immediately suffer some blood loss'. Nothing that put him actually at risk, provided he didn't get stabbed too badly himself for another couple weeks.
"Fuck off," he groused a little bit at the accusation, the blood loss and hard-on making his reactions not as fast. "Anyone would, with this."
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Resting back on his haunches Cooper wipes at his face with a hand, staring at the blood before he decides better not waste it. His eyes drift to Jaskier's hardness barely contained under his nightshirt, then flicker up to look the bard in the face.
"Can you handle that or- well you been real sweet and all..." His hands rest on Jaskier's thighs, slowly moving up and under that shirt, holding his hips. Maybe he's being a little too assuming, after all maybe Jaskier just likes a little pain, it's not like he'd get hard cause of him...
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Jaskier's not sure he's ever made one like that strictly for a meal before. He takes a chance and makes an assumption.
"You going to be sweet to me?" Jaskier asks, breathing hard as Cooper slides his hands up under that long shirt, holding onto his hips. He should bandage the bite, just to be sure, but... instead he leans down to kiss Cooper, wondering what his own blood tastes like, if it's different as an aftertaste on Cooper's tongue.
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... it had been terse, Barb relenting to him apologizing for upsetting her. He'd been questioning her involvement with The Vault more often, questioning things he'd seen or heard. Cooper had hugged her from behind, apologized, that he knew she was doing this for them and he loved her. The kiss she'd pressed against the corner of his mouth hadn't been her accepting the apology, but he thought it was something. That they would work through it, they always had before. Not a day later everything happened. For almost a year now he'd been this monster of a man, no longer himself, and half of that time had been wasted chained to a fucking wall by that bitch Iosith.
And here, knelt between Jaskier's thighs, barely a couple weeks into traveling together, the bard kisses him with no hesitation. Kisses the monster who could kill him if his hunger ever consumed him. Kisses him when he's still got his blood on his lips and in his mouth. It takes what feels like minutes, truly it was a handful of seconds, for him to shake off the surprise before he answers the kiss back.
"Not sure I've got much sweetness left in me." His voice comes out softer than he expected. His hands grip at Jaskier a little tighter, thumbs rubbing circles in the crease where thigh and hip meet.
"But maybe I wanna taste more of you." If he's willing to trust that mouth of his on his body more than he already has.
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"You've been plenty sweet so far," Jaskier murmurs against Cooper's mouth, the iron and salt tang hot against his own tongue. He shouldn't. He shouldn't.
Jaskier's never been good at denying his own wants, and Cooper's hands on his hips feel so fucking good.
"Whatever you want," Jaskier agrees to, a dumb thing to say with the knife forgotten on the floor. He doesn't care.
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"Don't say that, might take you up on it." A little smile tugs at his lips. Finally though he'll lift the shirt to expose Jaskier's cock. If he had any doubts the bard had gotten off on him feeding off him well, he certainly knew better now.
"Might not be a compliment, but I'm taking it as one." His hands find Jaskier's hips again as he leans down, tongue lapping out to taste the wetness at the head of his cock. The mix of blood and come probably would be a stronger flavor back before this, but along with his sense of smell his sense of taste had been dampened too. It was nothing offensive to his taste buds at least and maybe more than anything he wanted to hear that pretty mouth cuss again because of him.
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"It's a - a fucking compliment alright," Jaskier hissed out between gritted teeth, squirming in the chair. "Gods it's been forever- fuck-"
It had been slightly more than a week, which Cooper knew for certain.
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"Forever?" Cooper's lips are a smirk against the underside of the bard's cock. He mouths along it, down, teeth light and teasing.
"The witch was too good to use her pretty mouth on you?" She was good at using it in other ways. Talking. Always talking. She loved the sound of her voice, honestly looking back on it he wonders if she kept him around just to have someone to listen to her talk talk talk. Cooper on the other hand is not above using his mouth on the bard, moving back up to suck the head of his cock into his mouth, tongue swirling around the underside.
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"Your mouth is getting - getting prettier by the minute. Fuck-!" Jaskier exclaimed, unable to resist a little jolt of his hips, cock already weeping precome from the excitement.
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It's been a long time, an actual long time, since he's been touched without malice. That anyone has looked at him without disgust or hate. Cooper thought he didn't care about any of that, he hadn't, his life wasn't about this anymore.
Living was just to get Janey back. To destroy The Vault. Yet as he closes his eyes and takes more of Jaskier into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat, he can't help but crave the positive attention. Cooper groans around Jaskier, bobbing his head, tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock.
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(Later on he might worry about possibly taking advantage. Right now it felt too good to think about anything else.)
He could try to push himself to last, but there's no real reason to. This whole encounter going this way was unexpected, and soon enough Jaskier's panting harder than before, giving a warning tug to the back of Cooper's jacket.
"Coop- Cooper - I'm--"
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At least it wasn't supposed to be. It had quickly changed when he was knelt between Jaskier's thighs, the bard's modesty barely covered by his shirt, obviously turned on by things before he even bit him. And here they were. Cooper hears the warning, doesn't even consider for a second to stop or pull away.
He's hungry for it, in both ways of the meaning. His mouth slides up, bobbing and sucking just the head of his cock as a hand wraps around Jaskier, grip firm and pumping him to encourage him to give him what he wants.
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The bard lets out a wordless cry that could be a distant relation to Cooper's name as he spills into the other man's mouth, vision going white and that perfect euphoria blotting out everything but the pleasure of the moment. When it fades he's panting for breath even harder than before, skin flushed and limbs feeling heavy with sated pleasure.
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Sitting back on his haunches he does pause to take in the sight of Jaskier. He's quite the sight all flushed and content from his orgasm. He has a few impure thoughts about other things he'd like to do to him, but he pushes them out of his head, much like how he pushes up to his feet.
"Give my regards to the chef." He'll pluck his hat up to place it back on his head with a cheeky nod, before turning towards the door again.
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Well, he probably can't go far, not unless he intends to leave Jaskier behind and he seemed very adamant about his initial task which they still haven't done yet, so... unlikely... still.
"Where are you going?" Jaskier asks, tiredly, sitting up in the chair. Honestly he looks even more a wreck from sex now than when they first met.
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"Oh I'm sorry, we're you eager to reciprocate?" It's asked like it's a joke, because why the hell would the bard want to repay him in kind?
"Do I need to pinkie swear I won't eat no one if I go outside?"
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"Well, if you're going to be an ass about it I'm definitely not going to now. Fine, go wherever. If you're not back by the time I finish my bowl I'm eating yours too."
Only Jaskker could attempt some kind of indignant anger when he was post-orgasm mussed with his dick still out.
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"You can have both, I'm full." And he does step out for some fresh air. He needs to clear his head after all of that. It's about an hour that he's gone and no he didn't eat anyone, honestly the blood from Jaskier had sated his hunger a lot better than either of them probably thought it would. Which is good, it's... Cooper prefers that over tearing into someone like a freshly cooked ham.
Everything else that happened was just... an effect of the feeding. It's not like Jaskier actually wanted to touch him in kind, but as he comes back to their room he's still thinking about how the bard's mouth felt on his. Closing the door and securing it he'll get more comfortable, hat, duster and scarf removed and his boots taken off. The fireplace is dim so he goes to toss another log into it. Can't let the bard be cold after all.
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The he does eat both bowls of food. No sense in it going to waste, it's very good. Well, for the standards of this far away from a major city anyway.
And by the end of that Jaskier still is post-orgasm, on just the right side of over-full, and aside from a little sweat from that orgasm still nice and clean from the bath with a warm room. It's hard to stay upset on any level with such creature comforts around, even if he's mildly worried that the blood was not enough and he'll have to hear about someone going missing in the morning...
No, he had to trust it would work, that Cooper's comment about being full wasn't entirely sarcasm.
He's curled up in the bed and half asleep already by the time Cooper comes back, stirring at the sound of him entering into the room. The fire's gone down enough to leave everything too dark to make out details, but he can see Cooper's frame silhouetted against the light from the fire place as he tosses another log on. Sitting up slightly - just enough that the shirt collar slides a little off of one shoulder, blankets slipping to his waist, Jaskier waits until he's done to speak.
"Coming to bed finally?" he calls out, voice still thick with sleep.
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