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Geralt/Jaskier modern au, roommates, mutual pining, 1854 words
CW: none, just fluff and pinging with a happy end
read on ao3
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“I told you not to go in my room and I told you not to touch my stuff,” Geralt said, looking at his new roommate.
Geralt worked as a tour guide for the local national park. During the colder months less tourists visited and his wage hardly covered his rent. His brother Lambert had suggested he take on a roommate and posted an ad for him in the local newspaper.
But most of the people that had answered the ad had been weird or downright creepy and he had lost all hope till a musician called. Jaskier - that was his name - was new in town and wanted to gain a foothold in the big city. He needed to stay somewhere cheap for a couple of months till he could afford his own apartment.
Geralt had invited him over and even though he had not been sure if someone so outgoing would clash with his more reserved nature, he had somehow been convinced that it would work out.
But now he wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Who even has real steel swords?” Jaskier asked, “I thought they were cheap imitations from the ren faire…” They were standing in Geralt’s room where his two heavy swords had crashed down from where they were supposed to hang on the wall.
“They are from an actual blacksmith,” Geralt said through gritted teeth, and more quietly, “from the ren faire.”
Jaskier laughed, “so I was right!”
“That is not the point!” Geralt growled and bent down to pick them up.
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It had been the 18th ad he had called for a room and when the man with the gravelly voice answered, Jaskier had been instantly smitten. And when the man with the deep voice turned out to be illegally handsome and accepted him as a roommate the musician was in heaven.
And at the same time he knew that it was a bad idea to pine after someone you lived with. He had experience with that. Bad experience.
So he tried his best to keep his yearning under control. But on some days it was particularly hard. Like today with the swords.
Jaskier knew he shouldn’t go into Geralt’s room, but he had lost the charger of his phone. So he snuck in when Geralt was at work. His eyes had been caught by the reflection on the blades of the swords on Geralt’s wall.
When he had first saw them after he moved in he had been a bit concerned - who the fuck had swords??? But Geralt had told him that he used to work as a stunt choreographer for sword fighting.
Jaskier had walked over and brushed along the blade with his index finger. And the fucking swords had fallen to the ground with a loud crash. In the exact moment Geralt had returned from work.
After Geralt chided him, Jaskier grabbed one of the swords to occupy his shaking hands and the adonis that was his roommate had the audacity to stand very close behind him and take his hand in the most tender way and fucking breathe on his neck.
He knew that he couldn’t have stopped himself from kissing the bastard and pushing him on the bed if he had stayed a moment longer, so he made some shady excuse and practically ran into his room to play some music to calm down.
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Over the last few weeks Geralt got used to living with Jaskier. He would never admit it out loud but it was actually very nice that someone was there when he came home from work. He especially loved the days when Jaskier cooked. Opening the door to their apartment and being greeted by the delicious smell of lasagna was something he could get used to.
“I’m home,” he called down the hallway and suppressed a smile when Jaskier answered, “then get in the kitchen, darling, dinner is almost ready.”
After he had put away his jacket and boots he walked over and stopped in the doorframe to take in the kitchen. Jaskier was a great cook - his food always tasted fucking amazing. But the utter chaos he left in his wake was honestly impressive. Dirty pots and pans were stacked in the sink, little red spots of (hopefully) tomato sauce decorated the tiles behind the stove and at least five different packages of spices stood open on the counter.
Geralt sighed quietly but knew that the lasagna would be worth the clean up later.
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Jaskier’s mother had told him that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. So he occasionally cooked for Geralt.
Of course he didn’t cook FOR Geralt. He cooked for himself and made too much so Geralt could eat with him. At least that is what he told his roommate. Today it was lasagna.
He smiled when he heard the key turn in the lock and Geralt calling out that he was home. He yelled, “then get in the kitchen, darling.” It had been funny to watch Geralt’s reactions to his frequent use of pet names. Jaskier had reassured him that he did that with every one of his friends, but to be honest, at least to himself - darling was reserved only for Geralt.
“How was your day?” he asked, as his roommate stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Jaskier had just put the parmesan on the lasagna and made sure to angle his ass in the perfect line of sight for Geralt as he bent forward to put the lasagna in the oven.
He smirked as he stood back up and turned around to find Geralt blushing. He cleared his throat before he said, “good, not many tourists in the park today. I gave a tour to a family and cleaned some garbage that campers had left behind.”
Jaskier smiled and said, “and then you come home to this?” He turned around and looked at the mess he had created.
“At least I get dinner here,” Geralt replied and walked over to the cupboard to get out plates. He set the table and sat down to watch Jaskier pour two glasses of red wine.
Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed from the cooking and his brown hair was tousled. On the apron he was wearing ‘KISS THE COOK’ stood in bold letters. Geralt had to shake his head because his roommate looked very kissable right now.
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“Fuck,” Geralt said as he hit the TV. There was only a static noise and a corresponding image that was not unlike the view of the snowstorm outside. No matter to which channel he switched, the results were the same.
“What are you ranting about, darling?” Jaskier asked as he walked into their living room. He was wearing one of Geralt’s hoodies and his own ridiculous pyjama bottoms. At least he had told Geralt they were pyjama bottoms, but they actually were illegally tight fitting booty shorts that had “flower twink” written on the ass.
“There will be no movie night today,” Geralt said, hitting the offending electrical device for one more time, “the fucking snowstorm has cut off the tv.”
Jaskier moaned sadly and pouted expertly. It was not only pursed lips. It was a full body pout with furrowed brows, round puppy eyes first looking down and then slowly up through his lashes, shoulders hunched forward, arms hanging limply down by his sides and one foot drawing circles with his toes in the soft carpet.
Geralt believed that his roommate secretly practised this and he had to admit in the privacy of his own mind that it worked every damn time on him. But sadly this time he couldn’t do anything about it.
But then Jaskier’s face lit up with a smile and he said, “Geralt, I have an idea -” Geralt groaned quietly because Jaskier’s ‘ideas’ rarely ended well, but his roommate ignored his nonverbal protests, “- do you remember when I went to the flea market the other day? I bought an old VHS recorder and a video cassette.”
“Why the fuck did you buy that?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Be thankful, Geralt, it will save movie night!” Jaskier called as he turned on his heel in search of the old recorder.
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It did not save movie night. The video recorder did in fact work, which wasn’t short of a miracle for that old thing, but the video cassette Jaskier had bought with it was not a movie.
“How could I have known that ‘fireplace romance’ is not a movie?” Jaskier said, eyeing the case.
“You could have read the description,” Geralt grumbled as he looked at the tv screen that showed a fireplace with a delightfully burning fire and nothing more. For four hours.
Jaskier sat down on the couch that was facing the tv and patted the space next to him.
“Come on, it’s better than nothing!”
Before putting the tape in the recorder they had set up everything for movie night: popcorn, hot chocolates with the tiny marshmallows swimming in them and a bowl of gummy bears.
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They had sat like this for a while, talking about work and Jaskier’s next gig in a coffee shop around the corner. Somehow, without Geralt noticing him moving, Jaskier had come closer to him and was now pressed to his side. It felt good.
Jaskier took a sip of his hot chocolate and turned to his roommate.
“Geralt, what do you think about…” but he stopped as he saw Geralt smirking and looking at his lips.
“What?” he asked with raised eyebrows.
Geralt cocked his head and said quietly in his deep voice, “you have something on your lip.”
Jaskier frowned and asked, “where?”
Geralt gestured for his own lip and Jaskier tried to imitate him, but he missed the spot of chocolate.
“Can you help me?” he asked, leaning a bit closer to him.
Geralt’s mouth was suddenly dry and he swallowed. Jaskier’s face was so close to his now that he could see all the tiny freckles that had faded during winter, but were still visible up close. He blinked and finally reached over.
Gently he placed his palm on Jaskier’s hot cheek and felt him leaning slightly into the touch. Slowly he stroked his thumb over Jaskier’s lower lip to remove the chocolate that clung to it.
He could feel Jaskier breathing in deeper right before he opened his mouth just a bit and Geralt could feel his warm breath on his thumb.
A heartbeat later Geralt threw all restraint and explanations why he shouldn’t do it overboard, and said in a hoarse whisper, “I really...i really want to kiss you right now.”
Jaskier’s eyes widened before a soft smile played over his lips.
Jaskier leaned forward to close the gap between them and kissed him. In that moment Geralt couldn’t remember why he had been convinced that kissing Jaskier was a bad idea because it was the best thing he had ever felt.
The kiss started slow and soft, almost chaste but when Geralt wanted to lean back he felt Jaskier’s hand in his hair, pulling him back into the kiss.
