we need a little levity, yeah? dont judge me its excessively self indulgent
CW: geraskier, modern au, roommates, pre relationship, domestic fluff, geralt doesn’t realize jask is home
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Jaskier had a blissful morning off work. He turned his alarm off the night before, changed his sheets, and even remembered to set the blinds how he liked them before going to bed so he would wake up to a soft sunny glow instead of blinding direct sunlight. His lie-in would be peaceful and comfortable come hell or high water.
Only in the morning, he woke in confusion, reaching out to slap at an alarm he thought was going off but was totally silent. As he blinked awake and ran his hands through his messy hair, he realized Geralt was playing music. Loud music. His roommate wasn’t usually a morning person, let alone a loud person in general, but then again Jaskier usually got his music playing first. Looking over at his clock once again, Jaskier realized it wasn’t all that early in the morning anymore.
He shrugged and made to scroll through his phone a bit before he gave in to the urge to pee and actually got up. After a few Green Day songs Scotty Doesn’t Know came on and Jaskier smirked. Of course, Geralt would be a grungy emo child. About halfway through the song, Jaskier thought he heard Geralt calling for him, but upon putting his phone down and tuning in, it was Geralt singing along. In the five or so months they’d lived together and years of knowing each other, Jaskier had never heard Geralt sing. He thought Geralt was one of those weirdos who just never sang.
Seizing the opportunity, Jaskier stealthily climbed out of bed and pulled his sweats on before poking his head out of his room. The song changed to Pressure by Paramore and Geralt’s voice continued crooning along if a key or octave lower than Miss Williams. He had a lovely voice, a little gravely like his speaking voice, but still clear and strong. Jaskier found himself grinning as he tiptoed down the hallway toward the kitchen/living area.
It sounded like Geralt was making breakfast during his concert, lost enough in his music that he didn’t notice Jaskier leaning against the archway watching him dance as he whisked eggs. American Idiot came on next and Geralt definitely spilled some eggs on the counter as he jumped and flailed his arms around yelling along. Jaskier’s heart almost hurt it was so cute, he wanted to kiss Geralt on a normal day, but the cute aggression may actually get him in trouble this time. I Just Wanna Live by Good Charlotte was next and Jaskier couldn’t take it anymore. Geralt dancing around their kitchen like a club in 2004 was just too much for his heart to take, let alone how much his cheeks hurt from smiling.
Instead of saying anything, Jaskier just calmly walked into the room and sat at their little breakfast bar, resting his chin on his hands and waiting patiently for Geralt to notice him. He watched him with the stupidest smitten grin on his face for at least two more songs, doing his best not to giggle or give himself away now that he was in clear view.
Geralt finally turned away from the stove in the middle of The Kill by Thirty Seconds to Mars and froze like a deer in the headlights. His eyes nearly bulged out of his skull and the plate full of a massive omelet almost fell right out of his hands.
“I didn’t know you could sing,” Jaskier mused, entirely unwilling and incapable of wiping the smitten smile off his face, still just staring back at Geralt.
Blinking and slowly setting the plate down on their counter, Geralt finally found some words, “You’re home.”
Jaskier nodded, “Mind pouring me a cup of coffee? Since you’re right there?”
Squinting but doing as he was asked, Geralt poured him a cup of coffee and even added his favorite creamer without prompting before setting it in front of him, “We don't need to talk about this… do we?”
“Talk about what?” Jaskier pauses just long enough to see Geralt relax before he grinned and muttered, “You’re adorable and you sound nice,” into his coffee.
Geralt’s nose scrunched up as he cut into his omelet and muttered, “Not adorable…”
“Oh, I beg to differ! That was extremely cute!” Jaskier laughed as Geralt folded his arms on the counter and bent down to hide his face in his arms, “I mean it!”
“Stoooop Jask,” Geral groaned, not able to hide the little laugh as hard as he tried.
“Absolutely not. That was cute and I will never tell you when I have a surprise day off again,” Jaskier insisted, reaching across the counter to steal a bite of his omelet as he spoke.
Still talking into his arms, Geralt’s muffled voice sounded downright miserable, “How long were you there?”
“Since Pressure? American Idiot? A long time.”
“You’re evil.”
“And you’re a fantastic cook. Can I have this if you’re just going to be very cutely embarrassed?” Jaskier reached for Geralt’s plate as he asked, not even caring if Geralt responded and hell-bent on stealing his food regardless.
“No,” Geralt snatched the plate out of his reach before he could grab it, earning him Jaskier’s full-power puppy eyes, “I’ll make you your own. This one has tomatoes in it anyway.”
Jaskier made a mental note to sob over a bottle of wine to Yen about how absolutely fucked he was, but he smiled and let himself enjoy it anyway. Geralt even started humming quietly as he cooked another omelet. No other lover would do for Jaskier, regardless of whether or not he ever told Geralt how he felt.
I’ve seen like... 3 or 4 really fuckin’ sad ‘almost geraskier but Geralt is a fuckin’ idiot’ ficlets on my dash tonight and that just... hurt me.
So here’s some goofy modern au fluff to lighten up the vibes tonight (and because I’m addicted to putting Jaskier in goofy outfits and ruining his taste in music).
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Geralt leans back against the faux-marble countertop and crosses his arms over his chest, relaxing comfortably in warmth of the familiar space. The holidays have been rough on both of them and he’s glad that their families have all gone home and left them alone for the time being. The Witcher smirks when his boyfriend greets him and nods towards the radio. “Really, babe? Aqua, on a weekday?”
Jaskier spins around on the smooth linoleum with his too-fluffy socks and uses his wooden spoon like a microphone, singing along with his Cursed Pop Favs playlist: “I'm a blond bimbo girl in a fantasy world; dress me up, make it tight, I'm your dolly!”
He points his wooden spoon at Geralt, who raises an eyebrow in return. The next two lines of the song play and Jaskier frowns when Geralt doesn’t sing Ken’s part.
Jaskier picks Barbie’s part up again effortlessly, turning back towards the stove as he belts along: “You can touch, you can play, if you say, ‘I'm always yours.’”
“You're my doll, rock 'n' roll, feel the glamour in pink;
Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky...”
His hips swing back and forth to the beat of the song as he moves through the kitchen with practiced ease. He tastes and seasons the vegetables gathered in his cast iron pan like he’s auditioning for Food Network, voice still loud and clear and sweet as he works:
Geralt gives in to the brunette’s whims with a little grin, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and bopping back-and-forth with his knees like a high schooler at a dance: “Come on, Barbie, let's go party!”
“I'm a Barbie girl in the Barbie world!
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere;
Imagination, life is your creation!”
“Ah-ah-ah yeah!” Jaskier beams over his shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to Geralt’s ever-chapped lips. The Witcher represses a chuckle in order to keep singing.
Geralt has never been one for dramatic displays of affection, which he knows can bug Jaskier sometimes. The slender musician is just as possessive of Geralt as Geralt is of him, though, so things have a way of working out in their favor when it comes to love languages. Quality Time is something they both crave and cherish in equal measure.
Geralt winks and finishes out Ken’s last set of lines: “Come jump in, bimbo friend, let us do it again. Hit the town, fool around, let's go party!”
“Make me walk, make me talk, do whatever you please;
I can act like a star, I can beg on my knees!”
When dinner is on the table and the radio has been turned off, Jaskier gives his boyfriend a quiet, private smile. “Thank you for playing along. I know it’s not really your thing but... I enjoyed it. And I like hearing your voice.”
“I don’t practice like you do.”
“I know, but it’s still sweet. And it’s nice to spend time with you like that.”
“I like spending time with you, too,” Geralt blushes. He scoops some potatoes onto Jaskier’s plate before serving himself and the brunette beams again. Geralt swears that his boyfriend’s smile could re-light the sun if it ever decides to go out. He’s amazing. He’s gorgeous. He’s... He’s more than a Witcher deserves.
“You’re thinking really loud, babe,” Jaskier offers him an out. Geralt takes it gratefully, momentarily overwhelmed by his own feelings.
“You’re just lucky it wasn’t Butterfly. I’m not singing that one with you, no matter how I drunk I get.”
“You don’t want to be my samurai?” Jaskier teases. “I can be your little butterfly.”
“Your food is delicious,” Geralt says. “Don’t ruin it with early 2000′s pop disasters.”
Jaskier blushes and the conversation turns to other things, like work and their plans for the weekend.
Later, after the dishes have been put away and their pajamas are on and their teeth are brushed, Geralt kisses his boyfriend goodnight and smiles to himself. He’s happy to have found someone as sweet and kindhearted as Jaskier to call his own (and even more grateful that Jaskier has claimed his heart in return).
He curls himself around the younger man, one arm pillowing Jaskier’s head and the other looped over his waist, and whispers against his sleep-warm temple: “Actually, nevermind. Whatever you want, you can have. My heart, my home, a drunken rendition of a bad song... it’s yours. I will do everything in my power, from this moment until forever, to make you smile. I love you, Jaskier.”
If Jaskier hears him, he doesn’t let on. The brunette merely sighs in his sleep and nuzzles closer to the Witcher’s warm chest.
me? projecting? lol no yearning? never but if anyone wants to get high and platonically make out with me at sunset overlooking the san juans then applications are open
Pairing: Geraskier, non relationship, roomies with benefits kinda?
Warnings: devil’s lettuce consumption (weed), making out in public, getting high in public, technically this could be a felony in some states, even more reason to give it a go, but thats all
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Geralt walked up behind Jaskier and just about threw his backpack on the ground, wrinkling and bunching the blanket Jaskier had laid out on the side of the hill. Still, his roommate didn’t move, staring out over the mouth of the sound a couple hundred feet below them. Everything was starting to glow in that specific shade of gold that only really happens on coastal evenings at the end of summer and a gentle breeze was blowing the fresh sea air up to them. Admittedly it was beautiful with its crashing waves and cliffs covered in stubborn pines and the occasional oak or madrone, but there was no reason Jaskier should be that entranced.
It was then Geralt noticed the earbuds and squatted down behind Jaskier so he was just barely a head taller and leaned forward. He was practically hovering over the brunette as he blew a puff of air over his silky soft hair. Jaskier jumped, almost knocking his head into Geralt’s chin, before tilting his head back and smiling brilliantly as he removed his headphones.
“Hi.”
“Hey,” Geralt greeted him, tilting his head down and grinning, “Why’d you call me out here?”
Rolling his eyes, Jaskier sighed heavily before answering, “Routine is all well and good Geralt, but don’t you want to actually enjoy life?”
“I enjoy my life just fine,” Geralt grunted as he let himself fall into the open space on the blanket next to Jaskier, spinning to face out over the water.
Jaskier just waved his hand in the air dismissively as he rifled through his own bag. It took him a minute or two but he eventually found what he was looking for and held a monster joint up for Geralt to admire like it was made of gold. Come to think of it, Geralt was sure weed was better than gold in your late twenties.
When he just looked between the joint and his roommate Jaskier piped up, “Let’s hit this till we can’t drive and makeout.”
A snort made it out before Geralt could stop it, but thankfully it only seemed to amuse Jaskier even more, “I was going to drive us home.”
“We can call Triss and Eskel.”
“Why?”
Jaskier had clearly expected Geralt’s questions and launched into his logic before the syllable had even left Geralt’s lips, “I’ve had a shitty week. You’ve had a shitty week. Why not be degenerates for a few hours and pretend we don’t have the problems we actually do? And- I’m not done, don’t interrupt- when was the last time you got to just relax and makeout with someone while stoned out of your mind? You don’t even have to worry about calling me or ghosting or giving me a shitty excuse!”
“That was only once,” Geralt defended, taking the joint from Jaskier as he spoke and holding his other hand out for the lighter.
“You’re just as much of a slut as I am,” Jaskier argued, flipping the cap of his douchey custom lighter and flicking the striker.
Geralt rolled his eyes as he leaned forward and cupped his hands around the tiny flame, holding the joint between his lips and making sure he got a nice burn going before leaning back and taking a deep inhale. Jaskier mimicked him and leaned back to watch the landscape as they held their breath as long as they could. Geralt could see Jaskier turning red and giving him glances out of the corner of his eyes but he didn’t let his breath out yet.
Finally, Jaskier caved and did his best to slowly exhale but quickly devolved into a coughing fit that left him even more red-faced. Giving him a shit-eating grin, Geralt blew a perfectly steady stream of smoke out in front of them and only had to cough a couple of times before clearing his throat sufficed.
“Y’okay there?” he teased, slapping Jaskier on the back as he continued to cough.
“Fuck- off s-swim team,” Jaskier choked out.
Plucking the joint out of Jaskier’s hand, Geralt gave him a wink, “My athletic career has nothing to do with it.”
About halfway through the joint, they realized if they finished it they wouldn’t have the mind to call for a ride before the next morning, so Jaskier stamped it out on a nearby rock and popped it back in its little aluminum tube for later.
Over time Jaskier had snuggled up to Geralt’s side as they watched the waves crash against the beach on the other side of the inlet. It was the most comfortable he’d been in a while. Between looking for a job that actually used his degree, suffering through a customer service gig, and the nightmare that was dating, he’d forgotten to relax for what felt like years. Hell, it might have been over a year since he’d done something for himself. It had definitely been years since he’d shared a joint with Jaskier.
Oh, right. Jaskier. They were planning to take advantage of the high somehow. Fuck. What had Jaskier said…
“Hey J…” Geralt murmured, tilting his head so his cheek bumped Jaskier’s temple.
“Hmm?”
“What were we gonna do?” A little giggle built up through the end of his question and he smiled despite himself.
“Umm…” Jaskier held his note for longer than Geralt thought was humanly possible as a couple late-night joggers passed behind them on the trail, “Oh, we were gonna suck face.”
“Mm, slutty.”
Jaskier gave a few tiny nods in agreement, still not moving from his spot against Geralt’s shoulder.
Before Geralt really finalized the decision in his head, he’d reached behind Jaskier’s opposite knee and was hauling the yelping and giggling man onto his lap. As he ran his hands up Jaskier’s back and pulled him close enough that their lips could meet, Jaskier snaked his fingers through Geralt’s hair. They both let out a sigh of relief as they sank into each other. Not that they were well practiced in kissing each other, but it was far from their first shared kiss and probably wouldn’t be the last. Both of them knew what the other liked well enough that Geralt was swept up in the kiss for quite some time before he registered something.
Pulling back and rubbing his lips together, Geralt tilted his head and inspected Jaskier’s mouth, “Did you wear bubblegum lip balm?”
“Mhm,” Jaskier started, nosing at Geralt to get him to tilt his head back up where he wanted him, “knew yours would be chapped.”
“Wouldn’t have- if -I got a heads -up,” Geralt grumbled between kisses, one hand digging into Jaskier’s hip.
“Liar.”
Geralt giggled again as he fell backward onto the dry beach grass and pulled Jaskier with him, “Shut up and kiss me.”
Happy late birthday @dani-dandelino 💖💖 I love you so much it isn’t even real!!! I cant wait to squish you and give you the best tall person hug I possibly can! (i wrote this while blasting taylor in your honor)
Warnings: they drinkin, seeing old exes, cheating exes, accidental-ish love confessions, mutual pining, fake dating, and they were roommates 👀
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“Oh shit, I’m too drunk for this,” Jaskier scrambled to pull Geralt into a darker corner of the bar they’d descended upon for Lambert’s birthday, “I can’t see her here. Fuck.”
Geralt rather tactlessly looked over his shoulder at Jaskier’s ex, now ordering a drink and sitting at the bar with what looked like a date.
“Don’t look Geralt! She knows you’re my roommate,” Jaskier hissed and dragged Geralt around a corner so he wouldn’t blow his cover. Their breakup had been… rough. Olivia had cheated, then told Jaskier he’d never find someone like her. For three months he’d managed to avoid the venomous woman who lived just two blocks over from him and Geralt’s apartment. And now she was right fucking there and he wanted to cry.
“Jask, take a breath. You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to,” Geralt held him by the shoulders and tried to get him to make eye contact. He was far too preoccupied with watching the corner for an incoming ex.
“I’ll tell her I’m dating a doctor. Uhm… and they’re not here because…. Doctors Without Borders! Ha! See?! I’m fine Geralt, why are you looking at me like that?”
Geralt rolled his eyes, “I have a better idea. Follow my lead.”
Stumbling and barely saving his cocktail from sloshing everywhere, Jaskier trotted after Geralt. To his horror, he realised they were headed straight for Olivia’s spot at the counter. Geralt didn’t skip a beat, linking arms with Jaskier and winking at him.
Well that didn't help at all. Jaskier’s stomach did a little backflip, even as he clung to Geralt, the alcohol swirling in his veins making it much easier to lean on him. He was momentarily distracted by how nice it was to lean his temple on Geralt’s shoulder, even if it was an awkward angle, and he went a little weak in the knees when Geralt leaned against the bar and pulled him close while they waited for the bartender to get to them.
Jaskier whispered, “What are you-”
Only to be interrupted by Olivia, “Jullian! Hi! How are you darling?”
He felt Geralt’s grip around him tighten just a bit as she spoke and something deep in his chest purred at the protective gesture as he plastered a blindingly fake smile over his features, “Absolutely lovely, dear! How are you?”
“Good! I’m just here with Valdo,” she gestured over to the man sitting next to her at the bar. He looked like the black haired, greaseball version of Jaskier and it took everything in his liquor addled brain to keep from scoffing. Then it hit him.
“Oh! The Valdo! Well it’s good to put a face to the name,” Jaskier barely kept from gritting his teeth.
Geralt hugged him tighter, leaning down to stage-whisper in his ear, “We can go if you want. Lambert can go without birthday shots, love.”
Love?!
Fuck, Geralt never called him Love. Not even at their drunkest, highest, or most deliriously tired. It had him scrambling for a moment, just looking up over his shoulder at Geralt in absolute wonder and… and probably a little too much affection.
“No! Lambert needs his birthday shot of cheap tequila. Thank you though, sweetheart.”
The pet name rolled off his tongue far too easily. Normally he kept the pet names to a minimum for Geralt. He’d noticed a bit of bristling early on so he just- held back. Now it felt sinfully indulgent to call him that when he wanted… fuck what did he want?
Luckily they were rescued from the awkward introduction by the bartender asking for their order.
“Eight shots of Casamigos please! And one lemonade chaser and a shot glass of grenadine please!” Jaskier piped up, whipping his credit card out of his pocket too fast for Geralt to stop him.
“I thought you said cheap?” Valdo scoffed.
Geralt frowned, half stepping between him and Jaskier, “It is? It’s no Barrique de Ponciano?”
Jaskier was really trying not to laugh now. They’d n e v e r bought something that fancy, nor would they ever. But they’d been googling the most expensive bottles of different alcohols the other night and Geralt had drunkenly tried for a whole half hour to pronounce the name of this particular tequila.
The look on Valdo’s face was magnificent. Olivia’s eyebrows disappeared behind her betty bangs and Jaskier felt the purring beast in his chest get louder.
He reached up to pat Geralt’s cheek, “No need to spoil me tonight.”
Olivia leveled them with a piercing stare, doing that annoying ‘creating suspense’ thing she liked to do before she said something she was proud of, “I’m glad you two finally got together. I think you’ll be good for each other.”
Geralt did the remainder of the talking while Jaskier stared at him in shock. Unfortunately that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to sink into Geralt’s embrace like this all the damn time and hear his nearly imperceptible huff of annoyance at comments people made. Nothing would please him more than feeling Geralt’s stubble pressed against his temple when he pressed a kiss to his hairline every day and he did his best in his drunken state to memorize it in case it never happened again.
He came back from his dazed fantasy to Geralt guiding his hand down to his belt and it took him a panicked moment to realize he was meant to hold on while Geralt lead them back to the party carrying the shots.
Jaskier offered a quick “Toodles,” and flipped Valdo off with his free hand when Olivia turned her back, but they were soon lost in the sea of people. Without really thinking, he took his shot with the group and dumped the grenadine into his lemonade. Well he was thinking.
And he didn’t stop thinking, staring off into space until Geralt nudged him with his elbow, giving him a concerned look.
“What the fuck was that?!”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Geralt shrugged, popping a mozzarella stick in his mouth and speaking around it, “And you didn't have to lie your ass off.”
How Geralt was still so calm was beyond Jaskier. Well, it wasn’t, he’d been sure his roommate had absolutely no feelings for him whatsoever, but part of him had held out for a sliver of hope and that part was the dominant part right then.
“Love?!”
“Are you- mad? I thought it would help sell it…” Geralt rested a hand on his elbow to guide him away from the group.
Jaskier knocked back what had been left of his cocktail before the shots and could feel the regret in advance. It was never a good idea to talk about important things either drunk or hungover but here he was, about to flip shit on Geralt for… being a good friend?
“I’m not fucking angry, I’m yearning!”
The second, much more intense, wave of regret hit him when Geralt’s eyes went wide and his hand dropped from Jaskier’s arm.
“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Jaskier snapped, wiping a hand over his face, “And don’t remind me about this in the morning if I forget.”
Before he could make his escape with his tail between his legs, Geralt gripped him by the shoulders and trapped him in a kiss so frantic and needy his head was spinning when they parted.
“Jask?”
“Hm?” He had to remember to open his eyes, lost in the tingling ghost of Geralt’s lips on his and the firm grip still holding him close.
The grin Geralt was sporting was far too cheeky to be allowed much longer but Jaskier refrained from kissing him again to hear what he had to say, “Can I remind you of that in the morning?”
“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jaskier mumbled as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck and pulled him into another kiss, this one much softer but no less satisfying than the first.
hey.. I've been having a high anxiety day so I'm terribly tired.. may I request some fluff to deal with all the negative feelings??
Geralt knows that it’s going to be one of Those Days when he walks into the living room and finds Jaskier sitting on their shitty floral-print couch, staring blankly at the dark television. “Did that meeting with the board last night empty what was left of your People Battery?”
The mess of brown bedhead bobs up and down. “Yeah.”
Geralt loads a streaming service while Jaskier remains motionless and silent, watching Geralt’s movements with a sense of something beyond both boredom and apathy. “Do you want to watch ‘Regular Show’ or ‘Chowder’?”
“Can I-” Jaskier sighs as if asking this question is the hardest thing he’s ever done. As far as Geralt knows, in this moment, asking this question might very well be the hardest thing for Jaskier to do. “Can we watch Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century?”
“Yeah,” Geralt smiles, typing the request into the smart-tv and pressing ‘play’. “I’m going to make some coffee. Would you like the usual?”
“Yes, please.”
Geralt hates how small Jaskier’s voice gets when he’s like this. The usual exuberance and energy is gone, drained by too much human interaction, and only the shell is left. He knows how to take care of his best friend, though. He’s good at this. He gets the coffee going and puts a kettle of water on the stove to boil.
Then he returns to the living room and grabs the thickest, fuzziest blanket they own. He spreads it out on the floor and gestures at it. “Burrito time.”
Jaskier smiles gratefully and lays down on one end of the blanket, his arms and hands tucked tightly against his sides. Geralt pulls the edge of the material up and braces his hands against Jaskier’s shoulders, heaving and rolling his friend’s lanky body until the brunette is totally wrapped in the warmth of the comforter. When he’s properly cocooned, Geralt lifts him up from the floor and deposits him back on the couch looking much happier than he did before.
“Thanks.”
Geralt nods. He goes to the kitchen to fix his friend a cup of herbal tea, and gets his mug of coffee (with 2 generous spoons of sugar). He smiles once again when he realizes that Jaskier has started laughing along with some of the horrible early 2000′s dialogue. Fox Kids was not exactly quality programming, even if it was a goofy concept for a show.
“Feeling better?” the Witcher asks, sliding Jaskier’s mug down the coffee table towards him.
“Yeah...” Jaskier wiggles in his cocoon until he’s gently pressed against the solid warmth of his roommate’s side. He slowly rests his head on Geralt’s shoulder, his muscles tense as he waits to be rebuffed. Geralt merely slides an arm around the blanketed mass of his friend and smiles. “Much better, actually.”
Geralt presses a soft kiss to his brown bangs. “Good. Do I drain your People Battery, buttercup?”
Jaskier warms at the nickname and shakes his head. “Never. I could spend every day with you forever and still be just as happy as I am now.”
“Are you happy?”
“I am wrapped in an enormous Blues Clues blanket being snuggled by the worlds sweetest Witcher,” he giggles, “What’s not to be happy about?”
Jaskier adores Geralt’s little acts of service like this, and hopes that soon the big buff himbo will buck up and admit his feelings. Jaskier is patient. He’ll wait. He doesn’t want to scare Geralt off; although if his darling Witcher can handle his drained days so well, perhaps there’s nothing to wait for after all.
Geralt laughs at something Watson said, breaking Jaskier from his reverie. He does love this man, after all. Why keep him waiting? Maybe Geralt was just shy. He certainly blushed a lot when he saw Jaskier in any state of undress... or if he was worried about him... or when Jaskier flirted with him casually in passing...
When this episode is over, he decides, he’ll kiss Geralt for real.
Aro Jaskier geraskier roommates fic for my lovely @jaskierswolf .
Thank you @thecomfortofoldstorries for your input 😘
Geralt, Jaskier, Lambert and Renfri get together to have some (platonic) fun on Feb. 14th. Mature language, mostly because Lambert exists.
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“So Jask, you have plans for Sunday?” Geralt asked as they ate breakfast in their kitchen. Jaskier sat on the counter munching a strawberry pop tart while Geralt leaned against the counter across from him with a bowl of scrambled eggs.
“The 14th? Yeah,” Jaskier answered. Geralt looked up, surprised.
“Oh?”
“Yup. Me, a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, a couple bottles of cheap rosé, moping…”
Geralt rolled his eyes.
“No. Listen. New plans,” Geralt said. Jaskier raised his eyebrows. “We’re gonna have a little gathering. Lambert, Renfri, you and I.” Jaskier looked confused. “A friendship party! We’ll play some games, have some drinks, watch a movie…”
“… Ok… But… you know you don’t have to do this, right?”
“What? Have fun with my friends?”
Jaskier shrugged.
“However will I survive the hardship. I guess you’ll have to do the dishes for the week to make it up to me,” Geralt said.
“Hey, I thought I had the dramatic role in this house,” Jaskier replied indignantly.
Geralt smirked at him and tossed him the tea towel.
“Thanks!” He said as he strode out of the kitchen.
- - -
Jaskier was setting out chips when the front door slammed open.
“Hey fuckers, don’t fear, I have arrived! And so has beer.” Lambert strode through the door and pushed it closed.
“You ever heard of knocking?” Jaskier asked mildly.
“You ever heard of I don’t give a fuck?”
“So nice to see you, Lambert! A joy as always,” Jaskier said.
“You too, Chuckles.” Lambert clapped a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder as he passed. Geralt came out of the kitchen to see him.
“Hey dipshit, glad you could make it. There’s room for those in the fridge.” He gestured to the case of beer Lambert was carrying as he went over to Jaskier to hand him a blended margarita.
“Thank you, dear!” Jaskier said, smiling brightly up at his roommate.
A few minutes later there was a sharp knock at the door. Geralt opened it and let Renfri in.
“I come bearing rum, coke and donuts,” she announced.
“Donuts?!” Jaskier exclaimed.
“They only had hearts, but I fixed them.”
“You…fixed them?”
“We had Halloween sprinkles in the cupboard…” She produced the box of donuts out of the bag. They had skull and ghost sprinkles squished into the red icing. Jaskier took one look and started giggling, quickly doubling over and gasping for breath.
“… What?” Renfri asked, affronted. Jaskier straightened up, wiping his eyes and trying to catch his breath.
“No, They’re perfect. I love them, Ren.”
“Ok.”
- - -
“A dick,” Lambert said.
Jaskier shook his head.
“A dick with balls.” Lambert amended.
Jaskier rolled his eyes and shook his head more emphatically. He drew over some lines, trying to emphasize his drawing.
“It is! It’s a dick.”
“Ugh!” Jaskier threw his hands up in exasperation.
“Time’s up!” Geralt called out.
“You’re the dick, Lambert,” Jaskier said.
“You’d be lucky to get this dick,” Lambert replied. Jaskier ignored him.
“It’s a dog! It’s obviously a dog.”
“It’s obviously not, you’re a shit artist.”
“Whyyy am I teamed up with you.”
“Because you said brothers teamed up together was an unfair advantage, and we said so was roommates.”
Jaskier sighed and stared at the ceiling.
“We are going to lose so badly.”
“Not my fault you have no artistic talent.”
Jaskier snorted.
“Not my fault you have a one-track mind.”
Lambert shrugged.
“I will accept my fate if you fetch me a donut?” Jaskier offered.
“Why would I fetch you a donut?!”
“Because I’m pretty?” Jaskier fluttered his eyelashes at his friend.
“Fuck that. Get me a donut.”
“You guessed the same wrong answer until we ran out of time! You get us both a donut.”
“Fine. But I’m licking them both.”
“If I get rabies you’re paying for my medical care.”
Lambert barked out a laugh as he headed to the kitchen.
“What, Geralt didn’t have you vaccinated? Thought he was a more responsible pet owner.”
- - -
They watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Lambert sprawled across the couch, Jaskier and Renfri on either side of Geralt, sitting against the couch with pillows and blankets and bowls of popcorn. Jaskier and Renfri shouted responses back and forth, and threw popcorn in place of the rice that Geralt had forbidden. Lambert joined in the shouting whenever it was an insult. At the end of the night Lambert and Renfri headed home. Jaskier leaned into Geralt, not wanting to leave his warm side quite yet.
“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered.
“Of course,” Geralt murmured back. “Better than moping?”
“Much.”
“I’m glad.”
----------
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