Work Text:
“What are you doing here?”
Jaskier turned around quickly, nearly dropping the vinyl in his hand. “Huh?”
The older man, most likely a professor, put his hands on his hips. “What are you doing here? You need permission to be in the archives.”
Delicately, Jaskier replaced the vinyl on the shelf. “Ah, yes. Funny story. You see, I was looking for the instrument rental office, because I want to borrow a piano. My scales are not near what they should be, so I’m carrying a thermos of hot tea around with me at all times and trying to practice. Now is certainly not the time to get sick.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“I’m getting there, hold your horses. I thought this was the right room, because of that big old official-looking desk up front, and clearly, it isn’t. But, I couldn’t help myself from continuing in. I mean, have you seen some of these? The collection in here is stunning!”
“Yes, it is.” He didn’t look amused. “That’s why we require all students to have permission, so we lower the risk that something will break. Or, if it does break, we know who is responsible. Now, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. If you want to come back, ask a professor for their permission, or use the website to find what you need.”
“Of course, sir. Of course. I don’t want to get into any trouble here.” Jaskier looked around one last time. “You wouldn’t happen to have a record player in here, do you?”
“... I’m going to get a student to take you to the instrument rental room. That way I know you won’t run into any further trouble.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Can I look around a little longer while you go find them?”
The professor sighed, but he didn’t explicitly say no, so Jaskier continued to marvel at the impossibly tall shelves, wondering if they have a ladder, or if magic was the only way to get anything from up there. He then tried to think if anyone he knows and is on somewhat friendly terms with had magic.
“Here we are, then,” the professor said. Jaskier looked to him as he rounded the corner. The student the professor brought followed shortly after, and Jaskier lit up.
“Geralt!”
Geralt sighed.
“Oh, you two already know each other? Wonderful. Geralt, keep an eye on him. I think this one has a penchant for trouble.” He paused before adding, “Not unlike you your first semester, actually.”
“This isn’t your first semester?” Jaskier questioned, confused. He had assumed they were in the same class.
“Geralt is one of my most trusted juniors,” the professor said with a nod. “He isn’t afraid of facing a monster or two every now and then, if you know what I mean, and I’ve always said the most important thing a person needs is the ability to stand up for oneself.” With that, he walked away, leaving the two of them alone.
Geralt regarded Jaskier for a long time, causing him to shift awkwardly on the spot and swallow thickly.
“A junior, huh?” he said to break the silence. “How come I’ve never seen you around, then?”
Geralt gave him one last look before turning around, motioning sharply with his head to follow.
“I guess you had all of your gen eds already? That could be why. That’s all I’m really in this semester. Gen eds, theatre, and a bunch of choir ensembles. Do you know how many stuck up pricks there are in choir? Tenors are already hard to come by because most men can’t sing very high, and yet they act as if I don’t exist. Or worse, pretend I’m a bass. Like, excuse me, I went through the same auditioning process everyone else did. I sing what I was assigned. Am I going to audition for the solos? Yes. But, that’s still an audition. I have the same chance to get it as everyone else that auditions.”
“Hmmm.”
“You really are a man of few words, aren’t you? I feel like I keep talking about me, but I barely know anything about you. Do you have a job? Any favorite hobbies? Do you know where the good parties are on the weekends?”
Geralt sighed again. “No.”
“Is that a no for one question, or a no for all of them? There were a few questions there.” When Geralt didn’t answer, continuing on with the same bland expression, Jaskier changed the subject. “You know, I think I found out why everyone in theatre seems to hate me. They all think I fucked Dr. Linde’s daughter. And that because of that, I was given the lead. Why can’t they believe I won it through sheer talent and will?”
“Did you?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Did you fuck the professor’s daughter.”
Jaskier chuckled heartily. “Like Hell I did. Have you even seen her? I don’t think anyone would ever want to, that poor soul. She’s nice enough, but – no way. Wait – you didn’t believe them, did you?”
“No. You can never trust the rumors around here.”
“Now that sounds like the words of a man who’s been tangled in them before. I wonder what they could have said about you? That you’re secretly soft at heart?” He squinted at him. “Does it have something to do with that industrial piercing that I’m only just now seeing? It’s killer, by the way. Really fits the whole 90s grunge look.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Fine, fine, I won’t try to pry it out of you. I’m just glad to know that it’s not just me. I guess you just can’t escape the rumor mills anywhere, huh. No matter! We’ll just have to make the best of it!” Striking a pose, Jaskier continued in a dramatic tone, “Two friends, one silent and brooding, the other dashing and boisterous, united in their common scorn from the student population!”
“We’re not friends.”
He dropped back to normal, catching up to Geralt once more. “Sure, you might say that now. It’s understandable, no one ever knows when to admit they’re friends with someone. But we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, if we’re both going to be in theatre. There’s still a few weeks until the show. Besides, why would you let me tell you all these things if you weren’t, deep down, starting to care for me?”
Geralt sighed. “Because you give me no choice.”
“Nonsense, everyone has a choice. Like right now, I’m choosing to change the subject. Like I said earlier, I’ve spoken enough about myself, and you refuse to talk about yourself, so, tell me. If you’re so experienced, who are the professors I should avoid at all costs?”
“I don’t pick favorites.”
“Now, I didn’t say your favorites, did I? I just want to know the most despicable professors. The ones people tell horror stories about. Those kinds of people.”
He mutters under his breath.
“Huh? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Calanthe,” Geralt repeats, louder. “History.”
“Noted! Though, I was hoping to avoid taking any kind of history class, you know? I’m just not really interested in – wars. There’s nothing remotely exciting about them.”
“She’s unavoidable. Teaches the required gen-ed.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway, and Jaskier almost walked past him. “Here’s the room you’re looking for.”
“Oh! Right.” He forgot why they were walking together, too caught up in the thrill of Geralt’s deep voice and, just maybe, a person willing to listen to him talk. “I guess… I’ll see you around then?”
“Hmm.”
“Do you have a phone?” He blurted out, for once immediately regretting his inability to filter what he says. “Or – an email, fax, just – someplace we could keep in touch…”
Geralt didn’t say anything. He just stared as Jaskier’s gaze slowly moved to the floor while he was fighting down the rising blush from embarrassment.
“Facebook.”
“What?” His head snapped up to meet Geralt’s gaze.
Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. As he navigated the screen, Jaskier noticed just how old the phone was. It looked like – like an iPhone 5. He didn’t know they even still worked. Then, Geralt turned the phone around to show him the screen. “I have a Facebook.”
Internally, Jaskier cringed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually used his Facebook. Everyone he knew used Instagram and Snapchat. Facebook was for old people… or old souls, which, in regards to Geralt, suddenly made sense. “Oh! So – I can, uh friend you. Yeah, okay. Numbers are – are too personal. And Facebook does have messenger if I were to – not that I would message you without reason, just. Cool.” He sounded like an idiot. It took all his strength not to bury his head in his palm right there.
Geralt nodded briefly.
“Thank you!” he said, swallowing his tongue as he rushed through the door before he could say something embarrassing. Still, pink dusted his cheeks and the tip of his ears as he cautiously turned around to look out the glass on the door, appreciating the view from behind as Geralt walked away. Guess it’s time for him to make Facebook popular again.