Killjoys, make some noise
Ciri woke to the sounds of My Chemical Romance drifting from the kitchen, which was strange enough even if she ignored that someone was obviously singing along. Bleary eyed and hungry she stumbled out of bed and toward the music.
“Eight legs to the wall, hit the gas, kill ‘em all!”
There was a shirtless man singing and dancing in her kitchen, making breakfast. And it wasn’t her father. She barely had time to take in the sprawling flowers tattooed across his back before he turned and she recognized him.
He grinned, grabbing her hands to pull her into the fray.
Her father wandered in not long later, sleepy looking and much less confused than she had been. He watched them dance with a small smile, but didn’t allow the other man to pull him in like Ciri had.
Jaskier seemed happy enough to have an audience and a dance partner until a little further into the song.
“Oh let me tell you ‘bout the sad man,” He twirled a giggling Ciri off to her own little corner and slid over to stand in front of her dad, sliding their fingers together. “Shut up and let me see your jazz hands!” He spun them around the room. “Remember when you were a madman? Thought you was Batman and hit the party with a gas can - kiss me you animal!”
And Gerard Way was on his own as Jaskier tugged her dad’s head down to kiss him.
“I guess that’s one way to tell her.”
Jaskier’s eyes flew open cartoonishly as he threw himself back and away from Geralt’s snickering, holding the other man at arms length. “You said you were going to!”
“You didn’t think she’d wonder why I was here and making breakfast half naked?”
“That’s why I was going to tell her at breakfast.”
