Jaskier would have asked and Geralt would have probably told him to make up his own mind and then act on it. Sex was a give-and-take-- if Jaskier sunk between his knees and Geralt wanted his cock somewhere other than the man's mouth, he'd speak up. Why Jaskier needed to codify everything with language was and would always be a mystery to Geralt.

Now he gave a quiet grunt as Jaskier sank back, those clever fingers slipping buttons free and prying at his cock with hand and mouth. Geralt arched his back and shifted slightly on the bed, moving just enough to sink himself down into the weight of the mattress, his thighs flat. His sex twitched with the attention, mostly full and heavily laying in the crook of his hip.

Is this how they'd be, then, from now on? Arguing and then making up with sex? Geralt knew that it was a bad precedent to set but he'd never quite been in such a position before and there was a part of him that would never be able to get the sound that Jaskier had made back at the hot springs when he'd orgasmed out of his mind. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted the silences, too, that came with occupied Jaskier, or Jaskier with his mouth full. Geralt realized that they'd perhaps loosed something that they'd never quite be able to put back again... but at the same time, he felt a gnawing pit of hunger at the base of his gut when he considered the possibilities.