Because his own shirt got stained and he refuses to wear it, so he bullies Geralt to borrow one of his. to wear under his doublet or whatever.
Every now and then, when he moves in a certain way, air puffs out from inside his shirt, only, this time it smells like Geralt instead of himself.
And Geralt can't wrap his head around why the bard is so quiet.
When it's time for sleep, they are in a small inn, Geralt sees Jaskier wearing his shirt in the dim candle light. Geralt is usually quiet, so he gets away with being a little tongue tied, but slowly he is figuring it out.
Jaskier ends up sleeping in it while his own tunic is being washed, and Geralt finally gets his tunic back, just before sleep the day after, Jaskier having worn it for two days.
When the shirt is returned, Geralt decides that, well, it's as good as any other, and wears it for sleep.
Only, it smells like Jaskier now.
The bard is also a bit flustered, because holy shit, Geralt just undressed to put on the shirt he just took off.
They go to sleep back to back, because they refuse to stay in one of the sleeping halls but are too cheap to rent one with two beds.
And they have regrets.
But also not.
After that it just becomes habit. Jaskier stains his shirt, Geralt hands his over, Jaskier wears it or a few days, Geralt takes over it
Until one day, Jaskier returns in someone else's shirt, his own drenched thrown over his arm
and Geralt can't, no he won't accept that.
So he drags him in close, grabbing the offending tunic just over his waist, putting his nose to that almost bare shoulder.
"Someone threw water out a window." Jaskier tries to explain, but his voice is all breathy and faint.
Geralt doesn't reply, just tugs off that unknown shirt, throws it the fuck away, turning to find one of his own to give him.
Technically, Jaskier has a spare, and they both know it.
"I don't like you in their clothes." Geralt mutters when he buttons it up for Jaskier.
"But you like me in yours?" Jaskier whispers, and they both pause for a long moment, looking at Geralt’s hands on Jaskier’s chest.
Then they are kissing. There is no hesitation, no thoughts, no nothing
They meld together, the back of Jaskier's knees somehow meets the bed, and then Geralt is above him, shoving the shirt up to let his hands roam.
From that night on they sleep together, Geralt has his arms wrapped around that waist, lips resting against his bard's sleep warm skin.
Geraskier fandom takes EPIC PINING to the MAX. I’ve never read so many “we’re literally fucking right now and I’m still pining for you” fics in my life.
So I hear it is a little @too-many-fandoms-no-social-life ‘s birthday. So a little bird told me. And I so happen to have a wee bit of pining as a birthday gift for this Birthday Cam!
Hope you had a lovely day, cutie!
There are three or four things that Geralt can admit that he loves. Roach is one. Ciri is another. He loves Gwent and he loves his family. There. Geralt loves things.
Jaskier is still pissed about that fucking farmers wife, letting Geralt kill their problem and send him of with an insult. The audacity.
If Geralt hadn’t put a hand on the scruff of his neck Jaskier, seen the look in his eye, there would have been words. Many. Words.
But Jaskier speaks Witcher rather well, in his own humble opinion, and the words shall be saved for a more important purpose. Meaning, telling Geralt exactly how much shit that lady was talking.
He can still feel the sensation of Geralt's hand lingering on his neck when they sit by their little campfire that night. Roach is munching happily among the trees and the sounds of the night have settled around them. It is peaceful, but Jaskier is not happy.
“You love things.” Jaskier says suddenly, breaking the silence.
“Pardon?”
“You love things!” Jaskier repeats again. “Lots of things! And people! Sometimes!”
He is possibly working himself up into a rant, but this is really bothering him. Geralt loves so much, in all the way that matters.
“This has been bothering you all this time?” Geralt asks with a small smile.
“Yes!” Jaskier says. “You are not incapable of feelings!”
“No I am not.” Geralt agrees, looking amused. He is fiddling with a small wooden carving, Jaskier is rather certain that he got it from Eskel.
“Like right now. What are you feeling right now!” Jaskier demands, staring intently at the witcher. The fire crackles merrily between them, a stew bubbling in a pot above it.
Geralt looks up, meets his eye. Jaskiers heart rate picks up, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips. A habit he just can’t seem to shake.
It happens when he feels a little nervous. Rather common when he is around Geralt, to be honest. Sometimes his chest is fluttery with it, or like right now, a gentle ache.
“Curious” Geralt says, tilting his head.
“Why is that?” Jaskier asks, hoping to gods and bog monsters and wyverns or anything that Geralt isn’t picking up on it.
“Why you care so much if I love.”
Ah.
Oh.
See, that is another thing he didn’t want Geralt to pick up on. Because Jaskier knows that Geralt loves. Just not necessarily him. Which is… not all that fun.
“Not if. I know you do. I'm just ranting because that lady.” Jaskier tries to play it off, but he can hear his own words falling flat.
Geralt studies him for another moment, and then shrugs, letting it go, returning to his fiddling with the carving.
Jaskier fantasies about Geralt pushing it. About making Jaskier tell him. Tell him how much he loves him, wants him, wants him to love him back.
But Geralt doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push it.
“I care, because I know that you do.” Jaskier says before he can change his mind. “You love so many, Roach, Ciri, Yennefer, Eskel, hell you even love that idiot Zoltan. And Lambert and Vesemir and Triss and stupid old Regis. And it is frustrating to me, and I can only imagine how it must feel for you.”
Geralt looks at him again over the fire and Jaskier can feel his cheeks heating up.
“I do.” Geralt says quietly. “But you forgot someone.”
“Oh?”Jaskier says, licking his lips again. He needs to stop that.
“You.”
Oh.
Fuck. Shit, fuck, bloody-
“You do?”
Please please please please please-
“I do.”
Jaskiers lungs burn. He wants to draw in a deep breath and calm himself, but that would be telling. His heart beats like crazy and he is trying to stay composed but it is so damned hard.
He is loved. Maybe not as he loves Geralt but-
“Jaskier.” Geralt catches his eye again. Jaskier can’t breathe. “I love you too.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Jaskeir can’t take it. He stands up abruptly and turns around. He is not sure where to go, what to do. There is a pressure behind his eyes, he can feel his chin do that wrinkly thing it does when you are holding back a sob.
He is clenching his fists, his fingernails biting in hard into the palm of his hands.
A hand grabs his, big fingers prying his fist open carefully. Then the other one. Geralt turns him around and pushes Jaskiers head down on Geralt's shoulder. His forehead connects with Geralt's tunic, and he finally draws in that deep shuddering breath. Geralt's hand lingers on the back of his neck, warm and grounding.
“Sorry.” Geralt mumbles and Jaskier pinches his side.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He grumbles, and then wraps his shaking arms around the witcher. They don’t hug much, but Geralt started it.
“I love you too, Geralt.”
Maybe Geral might not love him the way Jaskier loves him. He would like to think that the soothing thumb drawing circles on his skin means more. He would like to think that the hand Geralt wraps around him and hugging him tighter is more than just friendship. The way Geralt's nose press into neck, the way Geralt’s fingers curl in his shirt.
This love is enough. More than he ever thought he would get.
Somebody needs to stop me from making another pining!Jaskier video. I just heard White Blank Page in the first time in I don’t know how long and it is fucking pining!Jaskier to the max.
Tried to make a “Geralt is cheating on Jaskier with Yen” AU vid and ended up just making a canon pining!Jaskier vid because...pining!Jaskier is canon. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
