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“I don’t know why you’re putting yourself through this, Jaskier. She sounds awful.”
“Pshhh. She’s wonderful!”
Geralt looked over at Jaskier with a confused, scrunched up face. Jaskier was peering into the mirror, pinching his cheeks.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving myself a natural- ah- blush.”
Geralt narrowed his eyes, unable to comprehend the sentence.
“Is that necessary? Will she like you more with a sore face? Your cheeks are…”
Geralt coughed, his own natural blush appearing.
“Your cheeks are fine as they are.”
Jaskier rolled his eyes.
“Thank you, Geralt, but I’m not going for fine. I’m going for irresistible.”
Jaskier winked at him with his coal lined eyes. Geralt’s mouth opened to respond. Was this the time? He thought, his heart thudding in his chest. Probably not. Not while he’s excited to go out on his date, with a woman who could give him what he wanted.
He really thought he’d missed his chance. 20 years wasn’t long to him, but to Jaskier, that was probably too long, long enough to have got over any feelings that might have been there to begin with.
“Hmmm.”
Jaskier looked himself up and down in the mirror before heading to leave.
“Jask, your lute, aren’t you taking it with you?”
Jaskier looked sheepish, avoiding eye contact.
“I… no, not tonight, okay bye.”
Geralt walked forward quickly, hoping Jaskier wasn’t going to bolt out of the door.
“In all my years, I’ve never seen you leave for a date where you haven’t had something prepared to play for them. Something to “woo” them with.”
Jaskier gulped, still not making eye contact.
“Well not tonight, I’m trying something different.”
Geralt wasn’t convinced.
“Why?”
It was stern. There was an angry tone to it and he couldn’t help it but he needed to know why Jaskier was suddenly secretive. Jaskier looked up at him, clearly worried about the reply he was going to get.
“She… she doesn’t really like my music-”
Geralt huffed, shaking his head, turning to try and not blurt out something he’d regret.
“IT’S NOT HER STYLE, Geralt, please, she is really lovely, it has nothing to do with me.”
Geralt sat down on the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t trying to make Jaskier upset, the opposite in fact. He had to calm down. He took a deep breath, willing the words to leave his mouth and stop the horrible silence that had come over the room.
“I, Jaskier, don’t go. I don’t want you to go to this. You’re worth more.”
Geralt looked up to see Jaskier’s hand leave the door handle, slumping against the wood.”
“You keep doing this. Going out and meeting people that want you for one or two nights and then make you sneak out. People that aren’t appreciating the effort that you’re putting in. Every time. I’m here, seeing you so excited to go out. Seeing you spend all this money on clothes and flowers, spending time on poetry and writing songs. Putting all your feelings out there, every single time, ready for something that you don’t get. And then, I’m here when you come home. When you look sad. When you smell sadder than you look. When some, idiot you’ve been out to see hasn’t given two fucks about what colour of hat you’ve worn to complement your eyes or what… words you’ve picked specifically that you’ve heard them say they like. You do all this stuff, go out of your way to impress all of these people who don’t understand how great you are without all these frills. How your cheeks or eyes look before you’ve done all that to them.”
Geralt waved his arms, not noticing that Jaskier had made his way over to him. He was too flustered. He couldn’t control what was leaving his mouth. Jaskier Sat down on the bed beside him.
“How do they look?”
Jaskier whispered, hoping he’d get an answer. The answer came before his question had ended.
“Fucking unreal, amazing.”
He stopped, looking directly at him, their faces inches apart. Geralt noticing that for the first time he wasn’t anxious at the distance. He wanted to be there.
“I could stare at you all day, and never lose that feeling I have of-”
Geralt physically bit his lip to stop talking.
“Please, Geralt, what feeling?”
You could hear both of their hearts beating above the stillness of the room. Geralt stuttered, the overwhelming feeling that he couldn’t describe, settling in his throat, almost painful. He just wanted to tell him he loved him. But before it came out, that phrase bounced back into his brain, it wasn’t right. He spoke back in a hushed tone, like he maybe didn’t want Jaskier to hear.
“It doesn’t matter. Just know, I don’t… want you going. You should find someone who’s going to give you everything you deserve.”
Jaskier started to smile.
“Can I hold your hand?”
Geralt replied softly.
“No.”
That was perfectly normal. Jaskier had told Geralt a million times that it’s extremely important that if he doesn’t want touched, he can say no and not feel bad. It’s his body and he’s in charge. It was difficult at first. It seemed so rude to him and he really didn’t want to upset Jaskier. But that was the only reason he was saying yes, because he didn’t want someone else to be sad. But after years of, “Geralt, you must tell me, be explicit, yes or no. It’s perfectly fine. This is about how you feel, no one else.” He was able to be comfortable with him. Once he felt that comfort of being able to say yes or no, the feeling of trust he had with Jaskier was a feeling like no other. Jaskier didn’t react. Just like he said would happen. He stayed, with the same smile on his face, perfectly still, not moving his hands. Not upset that Geralt had said no. Geralt knew he would. It was so comforting.
“Jaskier I want you to have someone that can give you what you need. I- I can’t.”
“Says who? You? Why are you deciding that?”
“I just-”
“Geralt… I’ve been by your side for 20 years. If you want to spend another 20 with just me, as we are, with the same boundaries, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my days.”
They stared at each other with a feeling of both excitement and calm, the sort of calm that felt just right.
“Jaskier… Can I kiss you?”
Jaskier felt like the breath had been knocked out of him as he stumbled to say yes. Geralt paused for a second, then slowly leaned forward, placing the gentlest, softest kiss onto Jaskier’s lips. There was nothing fast or hard or needy about it. It was a simple kiss. And it was perfect.