Chapter Text
“Journeys end in lovers meeting.”
William Shakespeare,
Twelfth Night
“Jaskier!”
Jaskier was sitting on the edge of his bed, glaring at the closed door. He could hear Valdo calling him from the hallway.
“Jaskier!” The voice came closer.
Jaskier picked up a pair of Valdo’s running shoes from the floor and stood up.
The door opened and Valdo came through, blonde hair rumpled. He was wearing boxers and an undershirt. Jaskier hucked a shoe at him.
Valdo ducked it lazily with a minor eye roll. “Look, may I just say again that I did not sleep with him?”
Jaskier choked out an incredulous laugh. “Right, because your receptionist needs to work till 3 in the morning.”
“A bunch of us were working all night. He wanted to hang out.”
“Okay.” Jaskier smiled prettily. “Then swear on my life that you didn't sleep with him.”
Valdo groaned. “Ah, come on…”
Jaskier waited patiently. “Go ahead.”
“Look, I don't wanna... I'm not gonna…”
Jaskier chucked the other shoe. “Your receptionist, Valdo? You know, this is why I knew we were smart never to get married. I told you never to get rid of your house. Somewhere inside I knew this about you.”
Jaskier stormed around the room collecting the clothes and belongings Valdo had left lying about the previous evening before Jaskier had sent him down to the couch. Gods, he was such a slob. Jaskier would not miss the bed being covered in sheet music.
“First of all, can you please calm down? Because I did not sleep with him. Alright? Secondly, we've had problems for over a year. And I know you don't want to deal with that, but we have.”
“Oh, I am well aware we've had problems for the last year. If I work a little bit too much, I never stop hearing about it. But if you work too much, maestro... it's for the sake of your music.”
"If you work too much? Jaskier, you cut 75 trailers last year, you put a cutting room in the house, and sleep with your phone. And I'm not gonna have a conversation with you about sex, because I can't remember the last time we did it.”
Jaskier watched him grimly for a second, deciding. “That's it! You absolutely slept with him!” He dumped Valdo’s belongings into his arms. “Seriously, you have to get out.”
Jaskier pushed past him and marched down the stairs. “You know what I really think, Valdo? I don't think you ever really loved me.”
“Oh, please.” Valdo groaned and followed.
“You loved the idea of you and me, but not so much me. Not me, not really.”
“Look, I did the best I could. Is anybody good enough for that job?”
Jaskier yanked the heavy wooden front door open and grabbed Valdo’s keys off the hall table, dropping them into his hands with a flourish.
“I will send you your things.” He pointed out the door.
Valdo rolled his eyes and trudged out the door. “You know you do this, right?” He turned back to face Jaskier on the front step. “I mean, you screw up every relationship you've ever been in. It's what you do.”
Jaskier slammed the door.
“You didn't really want to be a couple!” Valdo yelled through the door.
Jaskier huffed and stormed back upstairs.
“You resist it in your own way!” Valdo continued to yell. “And it's hard to detect how you even do it... because nobody's quite as smart as you! So you're hard to catch at it. But it always surfaces and this is what happens.”
“What happens?” Jaskier appeared above Valdo on the bedroom balcony.
Valdo dropped his armload on the circular driveway and looked up at Jaskier.
“Things end! Just like you knew they would. Jaskier, you know how I feel about you. There's nobody like you. You just don't want to be what I need.”
Jaskier’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, hands on hips.
“Well, not what I ‘need.’” Valdo floundered. “I mean... You know what I mean.”
“You know, I would never cheat on you, not under any conditions.”
“Neither would I, okay? Look at me. I'm down here sweating like a pig. And look at you. Breaking up with your boyfriend... and you don't even shed a tear? I mean, that's gotta mean something, right?”
“Why does it bug you so much that I can’t cry? Valdo. Look, it's over.”
Valdo folded his arms and sighed.
“You know, we might as well be honest with each other,” Jaskier continued, blue eyes wide. “Just tell me. Did you sleep with him? Just say it. What's the difference at this point, right? I mean, why torture me? Just put me out of my misery.”
Valdo continued to sigh and shift from foot to foot, looking around at the garden.
Jaskier laughed sardonically. “What are we doing here...?”
“Okay.” Valdo finally said with a loud exhale. “Yes, okay? I slept with him. Are you happy? I've been sleeping with him. He's in love with me. He's young. Look, this is not a proud moment for me. I mean, you should just know that…”
Jaskier nodded, turning, and went back into the house.
“Jaskier!” Valdo called. He put his hands on his hips and began pacing in his bare feet.
Jaskier burst out of the front door and marched straight up to Valdo. “Did you say, am I happy?”
“I didn't mean that. You get me nuts sometimes, I say things I don't mean.”
“In the world of love, Valdo... not that I'm such a genius at it... but in the world of love, cheating is simply not acceptable. No matter what you think.”
“I know you have a very high opinion of yourself, but this isn't all me-”
“Okay,” Jaskier laughed acidicly.
“So when you're not in such a rage... I think you'll see that too.”
“Yeah, maybe. Maybe when I stop having visions of you two fucking ... I will see your side.”
Jaskier turned to leave, then paused. He turned back to Valdo.
And punched him square in the nose.
“You gotta be…” Valdo started, dazed. Jaskier took another wild swing, knuckles connecting with Valdo’s nose again.
Valdo landed on his ass with a squawk.
Jaskier growled and stormed back into the house, slamming the door behind him.
He was pacing back and forth in the foyer, shaking his hand and muttering to himself, when Priscilla found him. She coughed delicately from the hallway.
“Is this a bad time?” she asked tentatively.
“No, no, I'm just... I'm just flipping out a little bit,” Jaskier explained unhelpfully.
“Oh, okay.”
“Okay…” Jaskier continued to pace. “No. I'm okay. Gods, why would this happen? No. You know what? I'm all right.” He stopped and smiled manically at Priscilla. “Hi. What's up?”
“Essi needs you.”
They made their way down the hall to the cutting room where Essi was hunched over the bank of computers. Priscilla poured them all coffee. Jaskier answered Essi’s few final questions and they sat down to watch the latest version of the trailer they were working on.
The Trailer Voice rang out. (Jaskier liked to call the voice “Dom”.)
Dom: The Witcher was just your typical monster killer. Until the bard he didn’t want gave him a gift he never expected.
[The witcher emerges from the shadows to stand over a cowering bard.]
Witcher: Don't scream. [His sword flashes and a ghoul’s head rolls across the ground, coming to a rest against the bard’s boot.]
Bard: [Looks up with adoration in his eyes.] Let me write you a song.
Witcher: Hmm. [His sword flashes again.]
Dom: Henry Cavill [we see the witcher gazing pensively from a mountain top, hair blowing in the wind]… and Joey Batey [the bard smiles and strums his lute by a campfire]… in … The Witcher .
[Smash cut to the witcher facing a kikimora with the bard huddled behind him.]
Bard: You happen to have two swords?
Witcher: I didn't think one would be enough.
[He swings his sword with a grunt. We see the splatter of monster guts.]
Dom: [Black screen with white letters.] Coming Christmas Day.
“Amazing! It finally looks like a hit.” Jaskier was pleased.
“And that is why they pay you the big bucks,” Priscilla grinned at him.
Jaskier was thoughtful. “I think we should go back to the original cut on the end. It's so much stronger.”
“I agree.” Essi made a note.
“And make ‘Christmas Day’ twice as big... but try it in a red. Like a happy red, not like a Scorsese red.”
“Happy red,” Essi nodded and jotted that down too.
“Okay, so we're done.” Jaskier rummaged on his desk for a bottle of antacids. “Hey, you know, let's just take off for a few weeks.” He popped two tablets into his mouth.
Essi and Priscilla looked at each other and laughed.
“Yeah, okay,” Essi chuckled.
“What do you mean? I'm not kidding.”
“You always say that this is our busiest time.” Essi was baffled.
“I need to get out of town. You know? I think I need some peace and quiet... or whatever it is people go away for.”
Priscilla and Essi stared at him.
“You know what I really wanna do? I wanna eat carbs without wanting to kill myself. I wanna read a book. Not just a magazine. An actual book. For years, I read these reviews, I buy the books, but I never read them.”
Jaskier took a sip of his coffee, thoughtful. His knee jittered up and down.
“Did you read that article in The New York Times last Sunday?” He got up and began to pace. “Severe stress makes us age prematurely... because stress causes DNA in our cells to shrink until they can no longer replicate. So when we're stressed, we look haggard. While Valdo goes on looking cute forever... fucking his 24 year-old receptionist…” Jaskier put his mug down and pulled his fingers through his hair. “Oh, my gods!” he groaned to himself.
He saw Priscilla and Essi watching him, concerned.
“See what I mean?” he cried. “I need a vacation.”
* * * *
“Okay, where do I wanna go? By myself at Christmas. By myself depressed at Christmas. All alone... on vacation.” After sending his employees home, Jaskier sat at his laptop and typed ‘vacation spots’ into Google.
He wondered if he might cry for a moment. He did not.
‘Worry-Free Vacations’ popped up.
“Good. Where's that?” Jaskier clicked through the options. “Vacation rentals… I could do that. Hole up in a house somewhere. Disappear for a few weeks. I like that idea. ‘Click here to pick a country.’ Ooh, England!” Jaskier had always wanted to go to England.
He saw a picture of a beautiful cottage in Surrey. "‘Christmas in the country’,” he read. “‘A fairy-tale English cottage set in a tranquil country garden. Snuggle up by an old stone fireplace and enjoy a cup of cocoa. An enchanting oasis of tranquility in a quiet English hamlet… just 40 minutes from exciting London.’ Yes." He clicked on the link emphatically and began typing a message to the homeowner.
I'm interested in renting your house for a week. I'm wondering if it is available this Christmas. Because if it is, you could be a real lifesaver. I know it's late to be asking, but if you're at all interested, please contact me.
Jaskier was thrilled when a message from the homeowner popped up only a minute later.
I'm very interested, but the cottage is really only available for home exchange. We switch houses, cars, everything. I haven't done it before, but friends have. Where are you? Please say somewhere far away.
Jaskier typed his reply: L.A.
Never been there, but always wanted to go. I'm Eskel, by the way. I'm very normal. Neat freak. Healthy. Non-smoker. Single. Hate my horrible life.
I'm Jaskier. Loner, loser, and complicated wreck. Hi. I must say, your house looks idyllic. Just what I need.
Eskel: Really? Thanks. What does your place look like?
Jaskier: My place is nice, but it's a little bigger than yours. Can I ask you one thing? Are there any men in your town?
Eskel: Honestly? Zero.
Jaskier: When can I come?
Eskel: Tomorrow too soon???
Jaskier: Tomorrow's perfect!
Eskel: Okay. We are on for a week starting tomorrow!
Jaskier bought a ticket for the red eye that night and went to pack his bags.
* * * *
Jaskier pulled his blindfold on and attempted to wiggle into a comfortable position. His First Class seat, of course, made that a little easier.
Then he heard Dom, his Trailer Voice in his head.
“Jaskier Pankratz is proud to present... His Life. He had it all. The job. The house. The guy. This holiday season… find out what Jaskier doesn't have.”
Jaskier pulled a pillow over his head and groaned. This was going to be a long flight.
* * * *
“Sir? ...Sir? Sir?”
“Yeah.” Jaskier jolted up in the back seat of his rented town car. The driver was looking back at him in the mirror.
“We're here.”
“Okay.” Jaskier roused himself, blinking blearily out the window. His eyes focused on a snow-covered graveyard. “This can't be it.”
“No, it's just down that lane. But the thing is, I'll never be able to turn this around at the other end. Think you can make it from here?”
“No.”
And yet Jaskier found himself and his luggage dumped on the side of the snowy road. He leaned on his suitcase for a moment, eyeing his glossy leather loafers, then muttered “Fuck” and began to haul his belongings down the narrow, tree-lined lane.
‘Just down the lane’ ended up being a 25-minute slog through the snow. Jaskier almost cried when he saw the cottage emerge through the trees. Almost, because, of course, he didn’t cry.
Pausing to catch his breath, he examined the road looping in front of the cottage and made a mental note to get the driver fired.
“I'm here!” he exclaimed happily once he got inside, then eyed the low ceilings and old-fashioned appliances warily.
He dragged his suitcases up the stairs and found… a tiny bedroom. The closet was the size of a shoebox and was half full of Eskel’s clothes. Jaskier did his best to hang up his most wrinkle-prone clothing, then made his way back down to the cozy living room.
“Okay. Now what?”
He decided to use Eskel’s car to venture into town to procure some provisions, taking his life into his hands having to drive on the other side of the road. On the wrong side of the car. In the snow. He figured it was pretty good that he had only two near-death experiences.
He loaded up his cart in the adorable little shop with all the sausage, cheese, carbs, and alcohol he could fit. He even cracked open a bottle of red and took a few swigs while he shopped.
“After all, I’m fucking on vacation,” he muttered to himself as he imagined how good all the chocolate was going to taste.
The cashier smiled at him awkwardly, feeling the need to fill the silence. “Someone's having a party tonight,” she giggled.
Jaskier smiled and took another gulp of wine. “Oh, yeah.”
Jaskier made it back to the cottage in one piece. He loaded up a charcuterie plate for himself, poured some wine, and burrowed into the bed to watch some English TV. He was tickled when the finished Witcher trailer appeared.
“And that’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he announced again. It never got old.
When he ran out of food, he noticed again how cold he was. He bundled up in several layers of socks and sweats and tripped down the stairs to light a fire in the fireplace.
He perused Eskel’s overflowing bookshelves with another glass of wine and then sampled his music collection.
And then he realized he was losing his fucking mind.
“I can’t do this. What was I thinking?” he asked the empty room.
He called the airline and rebooked his ticket back home for the next day. Fuck it. Eskel could stay in L.A. for a while. His house had plenty of room. Maybe Eskel was cute.
He climbed back into the bed, adding every spare blanket he could find. Then he lay back listening to Eskel’s clock tick well into the night.
* * * *
Jaskier jolted upright to a banging on the front door just after 1:00 a.m.. He emerged from the downy covers shivering. The banging continued as he stumbled his way down the dark, narrow stairs, heart hammering.
“Who is it?” he called when he got to the bottom.
“It's me. Hurry up. It's fucking freezing,” replied a deep, gruff voice.
“Who are you?” he asked again, trying not to sound terrified.
“Eskel, open the fucking door… or I swear I'm gonna take a leak all over your-”
Jaskier wrenched the door open.
A very large man stood on the doorstep, half turned away like he was indeed about to relieve himself in the rose bushes. He had silver-white hair half gathered back in a tie and a jawline that could cut glass. The collar of his black peacoat was pulled up around his chin in a rather dashing manner.
He was gorgeous.
Jaskier froze, mouth open.
The man squinted golden eyes at him.
“You are not Eskel. Or if you are, I'm much drunker than I realized.” He looked past Jaskier into the house, then focused back on him with some difficulty. “I'm sorry for my profanity. I wasn't expecting… uh, you.”
Jaskier floundered for words. “Well, I wasn't expecting you either…”
The man tipped forward a bit. “Nevertheless, may I just...?” he nodded into the house.
“Yeah. Of course. Sure. You had to... Yeah,” Jaskier hopped backwards and gestured for him to come in.
He took a step in and turned back to shake Jaskier’s hand. “I'm Geralt. Eskel's brother.”
“Oh. Brother. I'm Jaskier Pankratz. I'm staying here.”
“Jaskierpankratz? Is that all one word?” Geralt stumbled past him, making his way to the bathroom, banging the door shut behind him.
“No. No, it's not.” Brother? Oh my gods. Jaskier yanked the cuffs of his sweatpants out of his socks.
“So Eskel is... Where is he...?” Geralt called through the door.
“He didn't tell you?” Jaskier glanced in the hall mirror in a panic and scrubbed his fingers through his hair.
“He could have done…” Geralt nearly knocked over a lamp on his way out of the bathroom, “...but as previously stated... I'm... I've just... I've been…” He finished fighting with the lamp.
“He’s in Los Angeles.”
Geralt looked confused. “That's not possible. Eskel never goes anywhere.” He leaned on the wall very close to Jaskier.
“Well, we have that in common. No, he listed this cottage on a home-exchange website and I found it. We switched houses for a week. For the holiday. He's in L.A. at my house and I'm here.” Am I babbling?
Geralt frowned, head tilted. “People actually do that?”
“Apparently. Yeah. I mean, it seems. Here I am in my pajamas.” Oh gods, I’m in my pajamas.
“He did ring me last night. I didn't get a chance to get back to him. I feel awful now.” He tilted forward, their noses almost touching. “Would you mind if I sat? I feel like I might bump into you.”
“Sure. Yeah. Sit.” Jaskier could smell the alcohol on Geralt’s breath, along with another musky, highly appealing scent.
Geralt turned and managed to make his way to the couch, collapsing onto it with a mild groan.
Jaskier watched him carefully. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I'm good.” A pained expression crossed Geralt’s face. “Look, I'm sorry about the intrusion. Although I may not appear it, I am in fact Eskel's... semi-respectable big brother. But on the rare... or lately not-so-rare occasion... that I frequent the local pub and get... inordinately pissed, my little brother puts me up... so I don't get behind the wheel.”
Jaskier nodded. Look how big his shoulders are. Does he get his coats custom made?
“Pathetic explanation, but unfortunately it's become a bit of a routine.” Geralt looked at his hands a moment. Then he looked up and squinted at Jaskier. “So how's it going so far? I mean, up until I showed up and ruined your night.”
Decidedly not ruined. “Well, it's not going so great. Yeah, I'm leaving tomorrow… or rather today... on a 2:45 flight.”
“Oh.” Geralt blinked. “When did you get here?”
Jaskier looked at his watch. “About nine hours ago.”
“We've made a great impression on you, haven't we?”
“No, it's not that. It's just that... You know, I'm not quite myself right now. I came here on a stupid whim. Honestly, I've never thought about anything less. It's very unlike me.” Jaskier found himself babbling again. “Would you like something to drink? Glass of water? Tea? Wine, maybe?”
“I think there's a bottle of brandy.” Geralt leaned over, pointing to a nearby cabinet. “Fancy a glass?” His smile was molten.
“Sure,” Jaskier replied, a little high pitched.
“Good. So... I'm sorry, I've totally blanked and forgotten your name.”
“Jaskier.” He reached into the cabinet for glasses and the bottle of brandy.
“So, Jaskier... you're not married, are you?”
“Why? Do I look not married?” Top notch flirting, Pankratz. Way to go.
“No.” Geralt looked embarrassed. “It was just a backwards way of asking if you were married.”
“No, not at all.” Jaskier paused his pouring. “I don't know what that means. I mean, no, I'm not married.”
Geralt laughed softly. “Me neither.” His eyes were maybe a little sad for a brief moment.
Jaskier handed Geralt a glass.
“Cheers,” he said, taking a small sip. They clinked glasses.
“Cheers,” Jaskier replied. The room was silent for a moment. He smiled at Geralt, and Geralt smiled back.
“So is it horrible if I stay?” Geralt finally said, breaking the silence. “I'll be gone before you even wake up. I promise you will never lay eyes on me again.”
“Of... No, that's fine. Sure.”
“Thank you.”
Jaskier put his glass down. “Let me just get you a blanket.”
“In the cupboard, on top of the Scrabble.” Geralt pointed with another smile. He stood up and began to slide his coat off, revealing a blazer and tie. “So why is it you aren't quite yourself at the moment?” His blazer followed.
“Uh, well…” Jaskier pulled a pillow and blanket out of the cupboard. He turned back to look at Geralt, noticing how much more… noticeable his muscles were out from under the thick layers. “I just broke up with someone. Yesterday. And I guess what I was feeling... was that I didn't want to be alone over the holidays. And I thought that if I was somewhere else, I wouldn't realize I was alone. Then I got here and never felt more alone in my life. Big surprise.” He handed the bedding to Geralt with a sheepish grin. “Bet you're glad you knocked on this door.”
Their eyes locked as Jaskier’s fingers brushed Geralt’s.
“I am, actually,” Geralt said softly. His eyes flicked down to Jaskier’s mouth.
“Yeah, well…” Jaskier chuckled nervously, feeling his heart speed up. “Sorry, and... good night.”
“Sweet dreams,” Geralt murmured, and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Jaskier’s lips.
Then he pulled away, looking confused at what he had just done.
Both men inhaled as if they were preparing to speak, but no words came out. Jaskier found himself wanting to laugh, but he took a calming breath.
“Do you think you could... Would you mind... trying that again?” Jaskier asked.
Geralt found his lips again. This time the kiss was longer, deeper.
Jaskier couldn’t believe he was in England kissing a man he had met not even ten minutes ago. It was all very confusing.
Geralt pulled away, looking concerned at the expression on Jaskier’s face. “Bad?”
“Weird.” Jaskier sank down onto the couch and Geralt sat next to him, their knees touching. “Kissing a total stranger.”
“Really?” Geralt smiled ruefully. “I do it all the time.”
“Let me try this.” Jaskier slid his hand onto Geralt’s shoulder and leaned in to kiss him again, but something in him was still holding back. “Maybe if I closed my eyes.”
He closed his eyes, and felt Geralt leaning in. Geralt gently placed his hands on either side of Jaskier’s face, then pushed his hair back. He gasped when Geralt’s lips softly touched his eyelid, then cheek… then lips.
Now this was a kiss. Jaskier broke it off.
“You know, um, given that I'm in a bit of a personal crisis... and I find myself in a total stranger's home... in a town that I can't actually remember the name of, and considering that you showed up, and you're, like, insanely good-looking... and really drunk and probably won't remember me anyway... I'm thinking... we should have sex.”
Geralt’s eyes bulged slightly.
“If you want,” Jaskier added.
Geralt looked at him. “Is that a trick question?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.
“I'm actually serious.” Jaskier took hold of Geralt’s tie, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “And not that it matters, but I've never said anything like that in my entire life. It's just that this whole knowing-I'll-never-see-you-again thing is kind of exciting. I mean, this is what a vacation's supposed to be, right? You're supposed to vacate your life, do the unexpected. And you are... definitely unexpected.”
“This all sounded really wonderful till I became the cabana boy.”
Jaskier laughed. “And you're funny, which is, like, a bonus.”
“Yeah? Never meet me when I'm sober.”
“Deal.”
And they were kissing again, chests pressed together, Geralt’s hands on Jaskier’s back, Jaskier’s fingers on the bare skin of Geralt’s neck and into his hair. Until he pulled away again.
“Oh, also, I should warn you. I'm not very good at this.”
"‘This’ being...?”
“Sex.”
“Okay. Now, that…” Geralt shook his head, “cannot be true.”
“Nevertheless, the guy that I lived with mentioned it once or twice... and a man does not forget a comment like that. Not even me.” Jaskier took a deep breath. Geralt’s eyes never left him.
Jaskier kissed him again, Geralt none too glad to pick up right where they left off. This time his tongue gently lapped into Jaskier’s mouth.
“I mean, how bad could I be?” Jaskier was talking again. Geralt did his best to focus on the words.
“Sex is pretty basic, right?” Jaskier asked.
Geralt nodded enthusiastically. “Mm-hmm.”
“Am I pretty much talking you out of this?” Jaskier wondered.
“Strangely, not at all.”
Jaskier leaned forward again, grabbing Geralt’s tie, but stopped, inches away from his lips.
Instead he stood up, letting the tie slowly slip from his fingers.
He grabbed his glass and the bottle of brandy, with a long look at Geralt. He turned, hips swinging, and headed for the stairs.
“Look at you. You're already better than you think,” Geralt rumbled.
He followed Jaskier up the stairs.