Chapter Text
Jaskier was bored.
For three weeks he had been in isolation and all he had accomplished was writing half of a song and gaining ten pounds due to depression and boredom eating.
He knew he should probably do something about it; his jeans were leaving legit red marks on his belly now, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. The gym was closed anyway.
Sighing, he grabbed another bag of chips and sat down to watch a movie.
00
The movie was fairly interesting, but Jaskier's concentration broke when he heard his neighbor's apartment door open. He paused the film to listen.
Geralt, who lived in the unit across from him, intrigued him. Tall, muscular and extremely quiet, no one in the building knew what he did. The little old woman (who had given Jaskier like, twenty bags of chips, by the way) swore that Geralt was a mob enforcer. Pedro, who Jaskier often met in the building's laundry room, said he heard Geralt was in construction. And of course Janet, the resident crazy cat lady, believed that Geralt was a hitman.
Jaskier wasn't so sure about any of that. Geralt seemed intelligent, and very organized. The few times Jaskier had gotten a look at his apartment, it looked spotless, and Geralt seemed to leave for days at a time. His personal guess was that Geralt was a secret agent with MI6.
00
Hearing Geralt's footsteps inside, Jaskier got up and grabbed his laptop, pausing to take a carton of ice cream from the fridge. There were no spoons available so he chose a fork. No one was watching him anyway, what did it matter?
After enjoying a few bites of triple chocolate chunk ice cream he opened his browser. There were a few emails from his father, asking him if he needed more money (no bars open meant no shows which meant no income), and one from a fellow singer he had met a few months prior, just catching up.
The note from his father depressed him somewhat. Here he was, age thirty two, and still taking rent money from dad. Granted, he had supported himself just fine for years. He had just never expected a plague.
With that thought in mind he continued to eat mindlessly, not caring that he was dripping chocolate down his shirt. He only took notice when he realized all the ice cream was gone. Somehow he had eaten the entire quart of it. Yeah, he was going to get so fat.
Frowning, he pushed the empty container away and started digging into the items that really interested him.
Geralt didn't have a social media presence of his own, but if one looked hard enough, there were traces of him.
One particularly insightful Facebook page, belonging to someone named Yennefer had a ton of information.
Apparently Yennefer and Geralt had dated for a while. There were photos of them together at weddings, on an island somewhere (Jaskier had saved those photos as Geralt was shirtless in them), and other ones at various functions. Yennefer was still friends with Geralt's father, Vessimir, which was how Jaskier had found her in the first place.
Apparently his father was strong as well. He had a similar build as Geralt and his profile stated that he grew up only two towns over. Yennefer also listed the same hometown, so Jaskier concluded that prior to moving to the building, Geralt was a local.
Really, Jaskier wished he could just talk to him. See what he was into. But the man was just so gorgeous, he knew he was out of his depth.
Well, he could admire Geralt in secret. It was better than nothing.
00
He hadn't expected to run into Geralt in the laundry room. He had simply gone at a different time than normal. With nothing to do all day, Jaskier's sleep schedule was fucked so there he was, doing laundry at four am when Geralt walked in.
Geralt nodded at him in greeting and moved to one of the machines to input his clothes. Jaskier watched him for a moment.
When Geralt was done, he turned to look at Jaskier. He glanced at him initially, but then he took a deeper look.
It surprised and embarrassed Jaskier. He was wearing a grungy old band shirt and a pair of sweats, since those were the most comfortable pants that fit right then.
"You're in 12b, right?" Geralt asked.
"Yup. We're neighbors," Jaskier answered.
Geralt looked him over again.
"I'm Geralt," he offered.
"Julian. But my stage name is Jaskier. I'm a musician."
Geralt nodded, but said nothing else.
Finally, he turned to leave.
"Perhaps I'll see you around soon," he said, as he walked out. "Let me know if you need anything. We're in this together and all."
"Um. You, too!" Jaskier replied, somewhat stunned.
00
Three days and four more pounds later (Jaskier was really bored), there was a knock at the door.
Jaskier paused the song he was listening to and stood to answer it, shifting his jeans lower so they fit better.
It was Geralt, of all people. And he was carrying food.
Jaskier opened the door.
"Hi," he greeted.
"I got takeaway and they gave me extra. I wondered if you wanted it. I'm not sick or anything," Geralt said, "I won't eat it all myself."
Jaskier had just eaten lunch, but this was a chance to share a meal with Geralt! The opportunity might never come again!
"Sure. Thanks!" He said, "You want to come in, or…"
"You can come to mine. If you like, I mean."
"Great," Jaskier said, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest. "Let's go."
00
It turned out that Geralt was truly a minimalist. Everything in his apartment had a use, and everything was in its proper place. He led Jaskier to a small table in the kitchen and set the food down, then turned to get plates and utensils.
After setting the table he opened the fridge.
"Beer?" He offered.
"Please." Jaskier figured a little social lubricant couldn't hurt things.
Geralt really had bought a ton of food. Easily enough for four people. He encouraged Jaskier to take whatever he wanted.
Jaskier helped himself to a bowl of noodles and several dumplings before speaking again.
"So, Geralt. What do you do?"
Geralt stared at him for a moment.
"The other neighbors think I kill people."
Jaskier was surprised he had heard the rumors.
"Well, they're idiots. Truly."
"Hmm," was Geralt's only response.
He ate silently for a while.
"I'm work in private security," Geralt finally told him.
"Huh,” Jaskier said. "That must be interesting.”
“Sometimes,” was Geralt’s response. "And you...sing? And play guitar. And drums. I hear you sometimes."
Jaskier smiled and finished his plate.
"Correct. Not much music making going on lately though."
Geralt frowned, and pushed the remaining food towards Jaskier.
"I'm sorry. It must be boring for you."
"Somewhat. But I get by," Jaskier said, as he piled more food onto his plate. He knew he shouldn't eat it. He was way beyond full. But doing so meant more time with Geralt, so it was worth the pain.
00
Jaskier returned to his apartment feeling like he had swallowed a bag of concrete. His stomach stuck out in front of him, throwing off his center of balance somewhat. He hated to think what a glutton Geralt must consider him. Though he seemed almost happy that he had eaten so much. Strange.
Still, he had no regrets. He’d probably learned more about Geralt than he had expected.
He walked into his bedroom, kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his pants, content on lying around and thinking about his new friend.