“Eskel,” Jaskier sighed, plastering himself to Eskel’s broad chest as he arched up for a kiss. Eskel’s lips were cold, his jaw sharp and rough with stubble. Such a solid mountain of a man - Jaskier couldn’t pull him down at all.
“Jaskier,” Eskel murmured against his mouth. Large hands gripped Jaskier’s waist, their strength making him shiver.
Opening his mouth with a purr, Jaskier gave of himself with shameful desperation, clinging to Eskel’s broad shoulders as they kissed ravenously in the entranceway of Kaer Morhen.
“Do they have to do this every fucking year?” Lambert growled, trying to edge past.