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"Geralt! Gerallllttt! Please! It's pouring- and I'm your friend, or at least the only form of musical entertainment you have. Please let me ride with you before this mud sucks up my boots!"
It was raining. Pouring really. Geralt didn't like the rain much, especially not like this. Rain like this soaked into his skin and left him with a chill that made him feel like he had just went swimming in a frozen lake. Rain like this made the ground so swampy and muddy and he was worried that Roach might twist an ankle if he urged her too fast. On top of all that, Jaskier, who Geralt could only assume was either thick in the head or desperate for inspiration, had tagged along, as usual. He always tagged along, no matter where he traveled.
Normally, Geralt could have dealt with weather like this just fine. The rain was nothing alone, but with Jaskier, Geralt kept finding himself distracted. It kept getting harder and harder for him to block the bard's voice out of his head whenever there was something important going on or when he just he didn't want to talk.
" Geralt!" Jaskier shouted from behind Roach, having trouble walking through the muddy path.
"What am I doing..?" Geralt muttered to himself as he pulled Roach to a halt. He turned around and looked at Jaskier. "Get on," he said.
Jaskier's face was pale and his hair was wet and plastered to his face. His eyes lit up and he pulled his boot from the ground with a disgusting squelching noise. "Oh fina-fucking-ly!" He grumbled loudly, hurrying as quickly as he could to Roach's side and climbing on the horses back behind Geralt. "You do know that it's freezing, right?" Jaskier asked, wrapping his arms around Geralt's waist. "I knew I should have water proofed my lute case… Ugh, Geralt, you better pray that it's not ruined, I swear."
"I pray that it is." Geralt could feel Jaskier shivering against him and hoped that he wouldn't get sick. Having to travel with a heathy Jaskier was enough trouble, having to take care of a sick Jaskier would be one fine pain in the ass. "Before you whine my ear off, we're close to a town. Hystall. There should be an inn there. Or at the very least, a tavern, somewhere to keep dry."
Jaskier's grip tightened on Geralt's waist, "Thank the gods, then."
With thick raindrops pouring down his face, Geralt just managed a smile. "Not on your life, Jaskier."
The ride to Hystall wasn't bad, especially for the rain. But every minute of it was filled with Jaskier's grumbling. Once they found the town's inn, Geralt gave Jaskier six duncat and told him to reserve them a room while he settled Roach in the inn's stable. Jaskier was quick to leave from there and Geralt was happy to have some quiet, even if it was just for a moment.
"I don't know how I deal with him, Roach," Geralt said to his horse as he walked her into the stables. Over head, the rain thundered loudly on the stable's tin roof. Roach only whined as she was lead into the only available stable left. The four others were filled, each with their own horse. "He's a crazy bastard, but I've met crazier…" With a sigh, Geralt looked out of the stables at the rain outside, he patted Roach's side. Then he ensured that Roach had a bucket of water and some food before leaving the stables for the inn.
Inside, Jaskier was speaking with a tired looking woman in her night dress who had to be the owner of the inn. "You sure you don't have another room?" He asked her. "My friend has more coin, I assure you."
"Hey, the only otha' room here is mine, I've told ya. This storm has got everyone here tonight." The woman grumbled, "One room or no room, take ya pick. What's to stop one of ya from bunking?" She asked, eyeing Geralt as he walked through the door, shutting it behind him. "Or kipping down on the floor?"
"What's the problem?" Sighed Geralt, stopping at Jaskier's side. "You have a room, right?" He grabbed the gold coins out of Jaskier's palm and pressed them on the table in front of the inn owner. "And I have coin."
The woman grabbed the coins from the table and hid them inside her night dress, "Your friend here," She glared at Jaskier. "Is'a concerned with there only being one bed to a room. And that there's only one room left."
Geralt looked tiredly at Jaskier, "We'll take it," He said, still looking at his traveling companion.
A look of ease cross the innkeeper’s face, she nodded. "Last room is down the hall, to the left. Red door."
Geralt nodded his thanks and then started past the innkeeper, Jaskier trailing behind him. Once they were out of earshot of the inn owner, he spoke, “You complain the whole way here about having a dry place to sleep and then you complain again about getting a room?”
Once they reached the end of the hall, Geralt pushed open the red door and stepped in to their room. It was small, which wasn’t surprising considering that it was the only room left. With black windows showing the downpour outside, there was no light except for the faint glow from the candles in the hall. Despite the lack of light, Geralt could still see the single bed in the corner and the small stone fireplace.
“ Me ?” Jaskier sputtered, grabbing a candle from its place on the wall. He walked past Geralt into the room, the candle flickering dangerously in his hands. “I wasn’t being difficult for me,” He found a few candles on the hearth of the fireplace and lit them. He turned around and pointed at Geralt with the hand that held the original candle. “I was being difficult for you, Mr. Angst. I’m fine with sharing a bed, but I didn’t know if that would suit you.”
Dismissing Jaskier’s smartass comment, Geralt shut the door. “Why wouldn’t it suit me?” He started to take off his armour, dropping it to the floor by the door. “We camp together all the time and you think I’d be bothered by sharing a bed?” He looked up to meet Jaskier’s eyes and saw that the other was blushing. “Maybe I should just make you sleep on the floor.”
Jaskier rolled his eyes and quickly turned away from Geralt, “I was just trying to take your interests into consideration, hang me.” He knelt by the fireplace and tried to light the few logs and strips of kindling with his candle.
Geralt eyed him uneasily as Jaskier struggled to light a fire. He bit his lip and sighed before moving to Jaskier’s side and gently pushing him away from the fireplace. “I’ve got this. You’re going to freeze to death if you keep those clothes on.”
“You’re the Witcher,” Jaskier yawned, standing up from the fireplace. He walked away from from Geralt and stuck the candle on the flat topped headboard above the bed.
Geralt could hear Jaskier stripping off his wet clothes behind him as he drew the Igni sign in the air with his finger. It glowed red in the air as he drew it, a shining unfinished alchemy symbol for fire. As soon as the sign was finished, a burst of flames flew from his hand and on to the logs. Just as quickly as the flames appeared from his hand, they stopped as soon as the logs were crackling and being consumed with a steady fire.
With steam rising from his fingers, Geralt stood up and turned around to look at Jaskier who looked surprised.
“How long have you been able to do that?” Asked Jaskier. He had taken off his wet shirt and strung it over his arm. His lute was laid carefully on the bed, the case on the floor near the wall with his mud caked boots.
“Too long,” Geralt sighed. "Is your lute water damaged?” He pointed to it on the bed.
A smile spread across Jaskier’s lips and he picked up his lute off the bed. “Miss my music that much, do you? No, thankfully she’s right as rain-” He looked disgusted with himself for a minute then shook his head. “Okay, maybe not right as rain, but it’s fine.”
He walked over to where Geralt was by the fire, idly strumming a few chords. “Want to hear this new song I’ve been working on?” Jaskier sat down with his back facing the fire and dropped his shirt down besides him to dry.
Unable to hide the small smile that found its way on to his lips, Geralt turned around to remove his own shirt. “Even if I said no, you’d still play it.”
“Yep,” Jaskier’s smile widened.
Geralt threw his soaking shirt at Jaskier and it hit him in the face.
“Hey!” Jaskier ripped the shirt off his face and threw it down on the other side of him. Despite his displeasure at being socked in the face with a wet, stale shirt, he was grinning. “Is that anyway to treat the world’s most renowned bard?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Geralt grinned. “I’ve never met them.”
“Oh! Oh! Hey!” Jaskier sputtered, his smile gone. "That was- Geralt, that is below the belt! Even for you!”
Geralt sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his own boots, still grinning. He didn’t say anything more as Jaskier continued to go off on him. He put his own boots at the edge of the bed on the floor. “So are you going to sing that new song?” He interrupted Jaskier in his speech of how he had made him the most well known Witcher in the continent. “If you keep shouting, you’ll ruin your vocal abilities.”
Jaskier stopped mid sentence and glared at Geralt, “You know, I’ll forget your previous insult because you never ask to hear my songs-”
“And because I’m paying for our room tonight.”
“That too!”
With a shake of his head, Geralt laid back on the bed and put his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling and watched as the shadows flickered in the candle light. “So, what’s it about?” He asked as Jaskier plucked at his lute, making a slow melody.
Jaskier’s fingers stopped playing for a quick second, but he hurriedly started back up, “Uh.. Love,” He said nervously.
“Hm,” Mumbled Geralt.
By the fire, Jaskier rolled his eyes at Geralt. He fell back into his melody, muttering a lyric here and there as the key of his playing changed slightly. " She’s… ” He began, his playing slowing just a bit. “ Soft and sweet in her own foreign way. With sun stained hair and a smile twice as bright. ”
Geralt shifted from where he was on the bed. Ever so slightly he leaned over on his side to look at Jaskier, one arm still under his head. The light of the fire cast odd shadows on Jaskier's face, making his features look sharper. But despite the shadows on his face, Geralt could still make out his warm grey eyes and soft smile. He met Jaskier's eyes and a jolt went through his stomach, but he didn't look away.
Jaskier licked his lips as he continued his song, "She loves to pretend she doesn't care about me but I know, oh I know she feels the same." He stood up from the fire and continued to play, "The beating of my heart falls in line with hers when she's around. Good gods she's a muse and knows how to keep me in line."
When Jaskier started to walk towards him, Geralt sat up. Each of them moved slowly, like it was a dream they were participating in and not real life. The sounds of the fire crackling and the rain falling hard outside acted as earthly acoustics for Jaskier's song.
"I'd follow her anywhere. Trailing behind. Baby, I'll give her my horse and walk after her in awe." Sung Jaskier, sitting down on the bed beside Geralt. They sat close, which wasn't uncommon for them. They often sat close near the fire when they were camping together, but there was something all the more intimate about sitting close on a bed than sitting close on bedrolls on the ground. "Gods o gods I love her, I know she loves me too. In her own way and in her own time, I hope she can say it."
They were close now and the room was warm with the fire and with the words of Jaskier's song. Jaskier's songs always had a magical way about giving the listeners whatever they needed to feel, let it be catharsis or joy, or inspiration or simple warmth. Geralt liked that about his songs, they always made him feel something when he felt like he couldn't feel anything at all. Geralt hadn't liked bards much before he met Jaskier, and he still didn't like bards. He only liked one bard: Jaskier.
Geralt put his hand on Jaskier's thigh and listened to him sing. Jaskier leaned his face closer to Geralt's while he sung the final lines, "She doesn't know how to love and I've had too many failed heartaches. Maybe we can show each other the way."
After a beat of silence after the song had ended with both Jaskier and Geralt staring into each other's eyes, Jaskier let go of the neck of his lute to reach up and cup Geralt's cheek as he kissed him.
Geralt wasn't surprised as he should've been by the kiss, but he didn't care about that. He was more caught up in how soft Jaskier's lips were in contrast to the rough pads of his fingers. He wrapped his arm loosely around Jaskier's neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss. When he pulled away, Geralt was satisfied to see the blooming red in Jaskier's cheeks and he smirked.
Jaskier smirked back up at him, "How did you like the song?" He asked softly.
"It was different," Geralt said, "It wasn't like your other romance songs." He paused. "Who was it about?"
"Different?" Jaskier asked. "That's all the creative criticism you have for me?" He rolled his eyes and slowly pulled away from Geralt, dropping his hand from his cheek. "It was about you."
Geralt knit his brows together in confusion, "Since when am I a 'her'?"
"Since last time I checked, a male bard singing about his homosexual love interest didn't get many tips in favour of getting stoned." Jaskier pushed himself off the bed with a sigh, "Honestly, Geralt, you're a smart guy, but damn, you're thick sometimes," he said, tucking his lute under the bed since its case was still drying.
Geralt rolled his eyes and laid back on the bed, "Good night, Jaskier," He said.
"Hey, you can't be going to bed now!" Jaskier popped his head up from the floor and scrambled back on to the bed beside Geralt. "We just- we just-"
"Kissed?"
"Yes! So that means we have to talk about it or something-"
With a sigh, Geralt pushed himself up on his elbows. "It's not like it wasn't important to me, but then it also wasn't a big deal to me, Jaskier."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying… Damn, what was that line in your song?" Geralt asked.
Jaskier's face lit up, "' I know she loves me too. In her own way and in her own time, I hope she can say it'?" He supplied. When Geralt nodded, he smiled. "So you do love me. Good to know."
Geralt covered his face with his hands and resisted the urge to push Jaskier out of bed. "Read into your own lyrics, dumbass-" He mumbled, "Yeah, let's say that I do- love you that way, but I'm not going to say it just yet."
"You just did!" Jaskier interrupted but Geralt continued as if he didn't hear him.
"I don't see the big point in sharing it, you can show it without saying it."
"You're so emotionally constipated that it hurts just to look at you," Jaskier sighed, falling down beside Geralt, his arm draped over his chest. "And stubborn."
"It's easier to be that way," mumbled Geralt, he didn't hesitate to put his arm over Jaskier's back.
"Well it's harder to like you when you're like that," Jaskier said. "Maybe take that into consideration."
"Maybe I will."
Jaskier groaned, then leaned forward to kiss Geralt. "I hate you." He said as he pulled away.
"What a shame," Smiled Geralt, leaning down to kiss Jaskier again.