Chapter Text
Later Jaskier had wedged himself into Eskel’s tiny bathtub in an attempt to relax but it was not working. His last conversation in the car with Geralt replayed over and over in his mind.
"I'm not sure I can handle ‘complicated’? Gods, I can be such a jerk,” he said to the bathroom ceiling.
“Jaskier Pankratz.” Dom was back.
“Shut up!” he yelled.
“He pushed every guy away, every time. It's not, ‘Will he ever change’, but, ‘Does he want to?’”
With a splash, Jaskier clambered out of the tub. Fuck, he was doing it.
* * * *
Two hours later he was pulling up in front of Geralt’s house, thankful Geralt had shown him where he lived via Google Maps during their lunch date.
Jaskier had put on the dressiest outfit he had brought with him, dark grey dress pants and a crisp purple button down. He carried a shopping bag loaded with more carbs - wine, chocolate, crackers, and other snacks.
He took a deep breath and steeled himself, marching up to Geralt’s door and ringing the bell.
The door opened and Geralt appeared. His mouth dropped open. He didn’t look especially… happy.
“Surprise,” Jaskier said hopefully.
“Yeah, it is. Hi,” Geralt replied, his voice pitched a little higher than normal. He wedged himself in the doorframe and closed the door tight against his side.
“Hi. So I was home doing nothing and thinking of you... and I realized that a little complication never hurt anyone,” Jaskier said quickly, trying to get it all out before he lost his nerve.
Geralt nodded, eyes wide, and shot a look back into the house.
“And then I thought, maybe this isn't so complicated at all. And also, I wanted to apologize. I am sorry I didn't invite you in this afternoon. I don't know what that was about exactly... but whatever it was, I thought that I should just…” Jaskier trailed off, realizing that Geralt’s surprise had shifted into near panic.
“Oh gods. You're... you're not alone, are you?” Jaskier cringed, instantly regretting every decision he had ever made.
“No, I'm not, actually. I'm sorry.” Geralt looked pained.
“No. No, no, no. Don't be. I shouldn't have just…” Jaskier took a step back, the embarrassment burning in his cheeks. “Oh, man. Okay, seriously, do not worry about this. This is just me, like, being stupid.”
“Who is it, Daddy?” A girl with long white-blonde hair suddenly appeared at Geralt’s side. She looked to be seven or eight years old.
"Daddy?” Jaskier nearly squeaked, eyes wide.
“Yes. I am Daddy,” Geralt offered a lopsided smile. “Jaskier, this is my daughter, Cirilla. Ciri, this is my friend Jaskier.”
“Hi,” Jaskier said to Ciri, still in complete shock.
“How do you do?” she said politely.
“I'm fine, thank you,” Jaskier said, recovering quickly in the face of impeccable manners. “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you. Do you want to come in?” Ciri replied.
“Oh, no,” Jaskier floundered. “I just…”
“Dad,” Ciri said with a pointed look up at Geralt.
“Sorry, yes. Of course, come in. Come in,” Geralt said quickly, opening the door wide.
“Okay,” Jaskier said uncertainly, partly wishing he was already halfway down the road.
“Daddy, can we still have hot chocolate, please?” Ciri asked plaintively. Clearly Jaskier had just interrupted the hot chocolate procurement.
“Yes,” Geralt smiled at her fondly.
“With baby marshmallows?”
“Yes, cub.” He touched her head affectionately.
“Dad, take his coat,” Ciri prodded gently when it seemed Geralt needed a reminder.
“Yes,” he said awkwardly. “May I?” He helped Jaskier pull his coat off. Ciri snatched it from his hands and went to hang it on the coat rack.
Jaskier turned to face Geralt with a frantic expression on his face.
“Are you married? Tell me fast,” he whispered quickly while Ciri stretched up on tiptoes to reach the hook.
“No,” Geralt said emphatically.
“Is that for us?” Ciri chirped, back at Jaskier’s side and eyeing the shopping bag he carried.
“Yes. Except for I'm sorry about the wine,” he said, handing the bag over to her.
Ciri skittered into the kitchen and hefted it onto the table, eager to begin pawing through the contents.
Jaskier turned back to Geralt, unsure of what to say.
“I apologize for not having mentioned this earlier,” Geralt said quietly.
“You're divorced...?” Jaskier asked tensely.
Geralt shook his head again. “Her grandparents made me her guardian. They were killed two years ago. She has no family left.”
Jaskier softened.
Geralt noticed Ciri look up from the kitchen table. “Jaskier, are you by any chance at all into hot chocolate?” he asked loudly.
“As a matter of fact, I'm... totally into it.” He followed Geralt into the kitchen, taking in the dishes piled in the sink and the fridge covered in Ciri’s drawings.
Jaskier seated himself at the table next to Ciri and the two of them chatted about the contents of the bag while Geralt puttered around making three mugs of hot chocolate.
“Here we go, Ciri,” he said, placing the first mug gently in front of her.
Ciri eyed her drink skeptically. “Did Jaskier get more marshmallows than me?”
“No, you each have five,” Geralt said, with a wink at Jaskier.
They sipped their hot chocolate while Jaskier asked Ciri about the books she was reading. Ciri recapped the adventures of Stuart Little and, with one particularly dramatic arm gesture, dumped the remains of her hot chocolate onto the table and Geralt’s jeans.
Geralt gasped and jumped to his feet, while Ciri ducked her head. “Sorry, Dad.”
He recovered quickly, grabbing a napkin off the table and blotting at the stain. “It’s okay, cub. It was just an accident.” He smiled at her.
Ciri smiled back in relief, and Jaskier felt his heart swell. Geralt really was a dad.
“Jaskier, guess what. We have a tent in our playroom. Do you want to see it?” Ciri asked once the hot chocolate was cleaned up.
“No, no. Jaskier doesn’t want to crawl into your tent,” Geralt intervened.
“You don't like tents?” Ciri looked at Jaskier sadly, lower lip out.
“I happen to love tents,” Jaskier informed her, and allowed Ciri to take his hand and pull him down the hall to the playroom.
Jaskier peered into the room and gasped. The tent was magical, with swooping, billowy fabrics taking up a good half of the room. Fairy lights were strung along the ceiling and the interior floor of the tent was covered in cozy looking pillows and blankets. “Okay, this is seriously cool,” he said genuinely.
Ciri giggled. “Come inside!” She dragged him after her and Geralt followed.
“Lie down,” she ordered once he was safely ensconced.
“Can you please stop being so bossy?” Geralt whispered at her.
“Lie down, please, next to me.”
“Okay,” said Jaskier, following instructions. Geralt laid down next to him.
“Here, Jaskier. You can use my pillow,” Ciri said, fussing over him to ensure he was comfortable.
“Thank you,” he smiled at her. “This is an exceptionally great tent.”
“It's got something, hasn't it?” Geralt agreed.
“It's cozy,” Ciri added, contentedly.
“Yeah. Who cut out all these beautiful stars?” Elaborately glittered paper stars covered the interior of the tent.
“We did. Me and Dad,” Ciri told him proudly.
Jaskier heart squeezed, imagining this small girl, afraid and alone, entering Geralt’s life. She was the same age Jaskier was when his mom died.
Jaskier slid his hand down until he found Geralt’s, and he laced their fingers together.
They enjoyed the stars quietly for a minute.
“Jaskier?” Ciri broke the silence.
“Yes?”
“You smell nice.”
Jaskier could feel Geralt smiling next to him.
“Do I?” He could actually smell Ciri, too. She smelled like marshmallows and wet snow.
“You know, if you wanted to sleep over, that would be all right,” Ciri offered.
Jaskier turned his head to look at Geralt who was looking back. “Sorry,” Geralt mouthed.
“That's so sweet of you to invite me… but maybe another time. Would that be all right?”
“Yes,” Ciri said, a little dolefully.
“Good girl,” Geralt peered over at her.
Ciri thought for another moment. “We never have grownups here. I really like it.”
Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hand. He squeezed back.
* * * *
“I can't imagine anyone being a bigger hit with her.” Geralt came back into the study after putting Ciri to bed where Jaskier was perusing his bookshelves.
Jaskier put the book down he was looking at. “She’s really great, Geralt.”
Geralt smiled. “Ciri's unfortunately taken on the role as my protector. She's brilliant, but I hate it when she worries about me.”
Jaskier nodded, figuring there was no point in dancing around it. “I'm trying to figure out why you didn't tell me about her.”
Geralt shook his head and crossed his arms uncomfortably. “Because I just don't usually tell the people I’m seeing about her.”
Jaskier nodded, but was not quite satisfied. “But it's just a little confusing... because you're the one who wanted to go out to lunch... to get to know one another.”
Geralt groaned. “When you put it that way, it sounds awful.” He leaned against the bookshelf and looked straight at Jaskier.. “I have no defense. Except that until I get to know someone really well... it's easier for me to be a normal, single guy. Because it's way too complicated to be who I really am. I'm a full-time dad. I'm a working parent. I'm a mother and a father. I'm a guy who reads parenting books and cookbooks before I go to sleep. I spend my weekends buying tutus. I'm learning to sew.” Geralt sounded like he could hardly believe it himself. His eyes were bright and Jaskier could hear the raw emotion in his voice.
He continued. “I'm on some kind of constant overload, and it helps to... compartmentalize my life. Just till I figure this out. These past few days, Ciri was with Vesemir, my father. And when she’s gone, I get to be somebody... who doesn't have hot chocolate spilled on his jeans. I have no idea how to date and be this. And I suppose there's... the possibility I'm afraid of what another person might do to who we are... and how we get from one day to the next.”
Jaskier felt the weight of what Geralt had just shared with him. He looked down at his hands and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I guess since I am leaving in a few days, I... I sort of get you not telling me. Sort of.” He looked back up at Geralt and smiled softly.
“I thought it would be hard... to introduce her to someone I may never see again.” Geralt looked so vulnerable that Jaskier wanted to wrap his arms around him.
“Right. Because I'm just someone you had sex with once and slept with twice,” Jaskier said with a quirk to his lips.
“Actually I thought I was just someone you had sex with once and slept with twice.”
Jaskier chuckled and then took a deep breath. He looked at Geralt evenly. “Oh, man. I think we just went way past complicated.”
“Right. I'm a book editor from London. You're a... beautiful... movie trailer-maker from L.A.. We're worlds apart. I have a cow in the backyard,” Geralt said, nodding his head towards the back of the house.
Jaskier blinked. “You have a cow?” I’m beautiful?
“Yeah. I sew and I have a cow. How's that for hard to relate to?”
Jaskier smiled gently. “Pretty up there.”
“Exactly.”
* * * *
Geralt insisted Jaskier should come for Christmas dinner. Jaskier attempted to politely decline but Geralt was having none of it.
“It’ll just be me, Ciri, and Vesemir. Come on. You cannot be alone on Christmas. I mean it.”
There was no saying no with those eyes turned up to full power.
Despite feeling like he was intruding, Jaskier felt his heart swelling sitting around Geralt’s table with his family. Vesemir was a little gruff but kind, and Ciri declared Jaskier her new best friend.
They laughed and shared stories over piles of turkey and stuffing. Geralt watched it all with a soft smile on his face.
When Jaskier was getting ready to leave, Ciri wrapped her arms tightly around him. “When will you come over again, Jaskier?”
Jaskier felt his throat tighten. He looked at Geralt, who looked equally devastated by the question.
“I’m not sure, Ciri. I promise I’ll come back when I can.” He returned her hug gently.
Jaskier noticed Geralt blinking rapidly. He bit his lip and looked away.
Despite his best efforts, they were all going to get hurt.
* * * *
On Boxing Day Jaskier had his suitcase out on the bed and was tossing all of his clothes in a rather haphazard manner, except for the one outfit he had left out for tomorrow’s flight.
He heard a knock at the door and he hurried down.
Geralt.
Before Jaskier’s smile could even finish reaching the corners of his face, Geralt’s hands were on his neck, lips warm on his. He pulled away to meet Jaskier’s eyes, but Jaskier flung himself back into Geralt’s arms and kissed him as thoroughly as he knew how.
Geralt wrapped his arms around him and kissed him back. He managed to lift Jaskier right off the ground and he shuffled inside, kicking the door shut behind them.
* * * * *
Jaskier flopped onto the bed next to Geralt, both of them panting.
The afterglow quickly dissolved into reality, and Jaskier knew they were both counting down until it was time for him to leave.
“So you're totally great,” Geralt said miserably.
“Yeah. This is a bitch.” There was no getting around it.
“Well, you must come to London all the time for work, right?” Geralt asked hopefully, propping himself up on a pillow.
“London? Never.” Jaskier rolled over to face him, finding his own pillow to tuck under his head.
“New York?”
“Not really, but that's easier. Do you go there often?”
“Rarely,” Geralt said dejectedly. He looked back at Jaskier earnestly. “Long-distance relationships can work.”
“Really? I can't make one work when I live in the same house with someone,” Jaskier said cynically.
“So this could be a good solution for you.”
“Oh, man.” Jaskier sat up suddenly. “Okay. Let's say we just make this happen. We each commit to flying back and forth as much as we can.”
Geralt folded his arms behind his head. “Yes! It's doable, definitely.”
Jaskier paused to admire his biceps. “And then let's say in six months we hit a wall. Like, I can't constantly be away from work... or Ciri can't deal with you leaving so often. And we start to feel the tension. We know this isn't gonna work... so we start fighting because we don't know what else to do.” The expression on Geralt’s face was breaking his heart. But he pushed on.
“And then, after a long, tearful - at your end - phone call... we just... we say goodbye. That'll be it, for real. It's not like we'll ever bump into each other. And then what's left? Two miserable people... feeling totally mashed up and hurt.” Jaskier signed and rubbed his forehead.
Geralt blew out a despondent breath.
“Or…” Jaskier added.
“Thank you,” Geralt said, relieved that Jaskier had another, surely brilliant, option. He sat up and kissed Jaskier.
“Or maybe we should just... realize that what we've had this past week has been perfect. And maybe it won't get any better than this. Maybe we're trying to figure this thing out because it makes us feel good to feel this. Maybe the fact that I'm leaving in 12 hours... makes this far more exciting than it might actually be. Maybe,” Jaskier finished in a whisper.
“You are, seriously, the most depressing person I've ever met.”
Jaskier scrunched up his face. “I know.” He fell back onto his pillow.
“I have another scenario for you.” Geralt said, naked chest glowing from the flicker of the fireplace.
“Good.” Jaskier gave Geralt his full attention.
“I'm in love with you.”
Jaskier felt his stomach swoop. He propped himself up on his elbows, eyes impossibly wide.
Geralt gave him an apologetic half smile. “I apologize for the blunt delivery. But as problematical as this... fact may be, I am in love. With you. I'm not feeling this because you're leaving. And not because it feels good to feel this way. Which, by the way, it does... Or did, before you went off like that. I can't figure out the mathematics of this. I just know I love you. Can't believe how many times I'm saying it.” He chuckled at himself.
A spark lit in Jaskier’s heart that was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. And could only lead to more hurt.
Great took another breath and continued. “And I realize I come with a package deal: two for the price of one. And my package, perhaps in the light of day, isn't all that wonderful... but I finally know what I want, and that, in itself, is a miracle. And what I want... is you.” Geralt watched him, his face open and achingly hopeful.
Jaskier’s heart fluttered as he attempted to gather his thoughts. “I wasn't expecting ‘I love you’.”
Geralt's face fell.
“Can you not look at me like that?” Jaskier sat up again. “I'm trying to find the right thing to say.”
“I think if the obvious response doesn't immediately come to you, we can... just... We should just... talk about something else.” Great slumped back onto the bed. “Like, possibly, what a complete ass I am.”
Jaskier leaned over Geralt’s chest and stroked his cheek.
“I do recall you promising me you wouldn't fall in love with me,” Geralt continued. “Must pay better attention.”
Jaskier placed his hands on both sides of Geralt’s face. “I've never met a man who talks as much as me. But could you just for now... be quiet? Please?”
Jaskier pressed his lips to Geralt’s. Their mouths opened, tongues winding together.
* * * *
Jaskier and Geralt stepped out onto Eskel’s front porch the next morning.
Jaskier turned to Geralt. “Okay, so we're not gonna make a bigger deal out of this than it already is.”
“No, we're not,” Geralt agreed.
“It's not like we're never going to speak or email or…”
“No set rules.”
“None. So now I'm just gonna kiss you for the millionth time... and say, ‘Be seeing you.’"
Jaskier closed his eyes and pressed their lips together, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck. His mouth opened and he enjoyed the feeling of Geralt’s lips between his, for the last time. He pulled away slowly, lingering with his nose on Geralt’s cheek, breathing him in.
“Be seeing you,” Jaskier said softly when they looked at each other again.
Geralt nodded. “Take care of yourself.” It was barely more than a whisper.
Jaskier made his way down the path and opened the door of the town car. He took one last look back at Geralt and waved. Then he slid into the backseat and the driver pulled away. Geralt watched from the front step.
“Did you have a good holiday, sir?” the driver asked as they made their way down the winding lane around the meadow.
“Yeah. Great,” Jaskier said, thoughtful. “Maybe the best ever.”
He unwound his scarf from his neck, suddenly feeling much too hot.
He flipped open his passport folder and checked that his tickets were still there.
His head flopped back onto the seat. All he could see was Geralt.
Geralt kissing him against a tree. Geralt making him hot chocolate. Geralt brushing his hair off his forehead. Geralt’s eyes crinkling. Geralt. Geralt. Geralt.
Jaskier slowly lifted his head off the seat as he came to the realization that his cheeks were wet.
He was crying.
Jaskier touched his cheeks and started to laugh.
“Jaskier Pankratz... welcome back!” Dom proclaimed happily.
“Turn around!” Jaskier nearly shrieked, startling the driver. “Turn around and go back, please!”
The driver eyed him in the mirror, perplexed. “Did you forget something?”
“Yes! Yes.” Jaskier fell back against the seat, body humming.
The driver pulled over and began a slow, slow turn.
“Can you go any faster?” Jaskier wiggled in his seat.
“This lane's tricky. It's gonna take a bit.”
“It's okay, just stop.” Jaskier flung open the door and tumbled out. He wanted to laugh hysterically. This fucking lane! He launched himself over a low wooden fence to cut across the meadow, and took off at top speed.
“Sir? Sir!” the driver called after him. But he was gone.
Panting, he pulled open the gate on the other side and ran across the lane and up the walkway. “Geralt?” he called as he burst back into the house.
“Geralt!” He ran towards the kitchen.
And there was Geralt, standing in the door to the kitchen, eyes red and cheeks wet.
Geralt chuckled wetly and shrugged. See?
Jaskier’s heart was in his throat. “You know... I was just thinking... why would I ever leave before New Year's Eve? That makes no sense at all.”
Geralt took a shaking breath as hope alighted in his eyes.
“I mean, you didn't exactly ask me out... but you did say you loved me... so I'm thinking I've got a date. If you'll have me.”
Geralt sniffled. “I have Ciri New Year's Eve.”
“Sounds perfect.” It was perfect.
In two strides they were in each other’s arms.
The kiss was sweet and salty with tears. Exactly whose tears they were, neither could say.
* * * *
Geralt’s house was lit up with lights and laughter.
Ciri came barrelling down the stairs and Eskel caught her at the bottom, whirling her around. “Faster, Uncle Eskel!” she shrieked with glee.
Laughing, and a little dizzy, he set her down. She bopped over to the couch. “Your turn, Lambert!” she informed him.
Lambert gave a dramatic groan, but, sharing a smile with Eskel, he got to his feet and obediently picked up Ciri for a twirl.
Jaskier came in with a tray of champagne flutes, including sparkling apple juice for Ciri.
“Thank you, Jaskier!” she said, delighted, and a little wobbly.
Jaskier placed the tray on the coffee table and settled on the couch next to Geralt, who was watching the proceedings with warm eyes. Geralt turned to look at him and slid a hand onto his knee. Jaskier rested his forehead against Geralt’s for a moment.
“Jaskier! Dance off!” Ciri announced after a sip of her juice. He hopped up, ready to throw down his best moves.
When the clock struck midnight, each man gave Ciri a kiss on the cheek. Geralt went last and followed it up with a bear hug. “Happy new year, Daddy!” she said, squeezing him back.
Geralt then looked at Jaskier. He reached out and took Geralt’s hand.
“Happy new year,” Jaskier said, pulling him closer. He didn’t know what the future would bring, but he could work from London for a little while longer. He owned the company, after all.
Geralt slid his hands around Jaskier’s waist and held tight. “Happy new year,” he whispered into Jaskier’s ear.
Their lips met and Jaskier let himself melt into Geralt’s arms.
Best holiday ever.