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Jaskier has known for quite a bit that Geralt is bad with his words, bad with expressing his emotions. He’s a man of action, not words, so when Geralt doesn’t call him his friend, he doesn’t take it too personally, he doesn’t take it too personally when he calls Jaskier an annoyance or when he denies he enjoys Jaskiers company. He’s known the man for almost a decade and only heard about one of his brothers while he was drunk, so it just seems like a Geralt thing.Besides, Geralt expresses it in other ways, the way he lets Jaskier occasionally tend to his wounds,the way he stops by towns that don’t have big contracts to let Jaskier perform, the way he buys Jaskier a dagger with a blue jewel, the way they meet every spring, so words aren’t really necessary… Right?
Currently, the latest way he’s showing is by going to a banquet with Geralt. He isn’t surprised when Geralt says they aren’t friends, but he really doesn’t pay much mind to it. Geralt simply isn’t good with expressing emotion, he doesn’t take it to heart, at least until…
“Geralt of Rivia, the mighty Witcher! I haven’t seen you since the plague.”
“Good times, Mousesack.”
Mousesack laughs “I’ve missed your sour complexion, Old friend.” Geralt doesn’t seem even slightly upset at the descriptor. Jaskier firmly sets his sights away, his throat tightening slightly.
“I feared this would be a dull affair but now the White Wolf is here, perhaps all is not lost.” His expression changed to one of confusion. “Why are you dressed like a sad silk trader?”
Jaskier, that has been looking away, trying to ignore the knot in his chest, turns to them, feigning cluelessness “What?” Geralt glares at him as Mousesack takes him away
“Walk with me.”
Throughout his performance he readily pushes his thoughts down, feeling himself faltering. There was no argument about being called an old friend, he even seemed pleased about it. Maybe… It was because they’ve known each other for longer, been closer for longer. Yes, that’s it, just time. It’s just time.
__
Another thing Geralt has always been bad at is touch, Jaskier suspects it’s a combination of his witcher senses and emotional repression. He tends to push Jaskier away half of the time, as if not having made up his mind on whether he likes Jaskiers touches. Sometimes he lets Jaskier tend to his wounds, let’s him wash his hair, doesn’t complain or move away from his casual touches whether it be around the fire or in a tavern, once he even seemed to lean into it. Other times he glares at Jaskier, moves away, one time he swats his hand. He has no idea when they’re welcome, but one thing Jaskier knows is that he never seeks touch for himself. Then again Geralt tends to deny when he wants simple things, like how he denies he likes the oils Jaskier uses on his hair.
It’s been about two years since the Djinn, after… Yennefer when it happens. Jaskier doesn’t like Yennefer, doesn’t like the way she made Geralt do her dirty work and almost get him killed, doesn’t like the way she Almost cut his dick off (she apologized but he is petty)… Doesn’t like the way Geralt runs to her. But he only runs to her for sex (at least that’s what he says), she doesn’t get to tend his wounds, she doesn’t get to press against him in a tavern booth, doesn’t get to wash his hair. She doesn’t get casual touches, at least that’s what he thinks until he runs into them.
It’s the beginning of spring, heading from Oxenfurt to the town where Geralt and him usually meet up, he’s walking towards the tavern where they usually meet up when he sees it, Yennefers pressed up against him. Geralt reaches for her hand, Jaskier suddenly notices that his hair is wet and sleek. He knows that she must have washed his hair… And Geralt is initiating physical contact.
Jaskier feels his throat constrict and he leaves, not being able to stand the sight. It took him so long to get Geralt to trust him and Yennefer does it in two years?
Jaskier practically runs to the next town, barely staying a day before continuing his move. Geralt doesn’t find him until mid summer.
“You didn’t go to the tavern.”
“Had to stay for a bit longer at Oxenfurt.”
“Hmm.”
He misses the way Geralt's hand moves up to touch him before backing away at the last moment.
__
It’s been 20 years and Geralt still won’t say it, won’t say they’re friends, though he doesn’t insist they aren’t when Jaskier calls them that, just grumbles slightly, gives him a heatless glare. Jaskier tries his best not to take it to heart, but Geralt seems set on breaking Jaskiers heart it seems.
Currently they’re in a small town, Geralt has a dangerous contract, hunting down a Higher Vampire that’s been terrorizing the town. He pulls out a small box and calls into it.
“Who are you calling?”
“An old friend, he can help with the contract.”
“How long have you…”
“30 years I think.”
“Ah.”
Geralt gives him a curious look, he seems like he’s about to ask what’s wrong when Jaskier plasters on a fake smile and grabs his loute. “Well! I’m going to head down to perform, gotta earn this room and such.”
He doesn’t see Geralt's eyes following him, doesn’t get to hear when he tells his higher vampire friend that he cares about Jaskier.
__
Geralt barely ever let him ride Roach, not unless he was injured or truly dead on his feet, it simply wasn’t something he was allowed to do, back then he though it was a Geralt thing, now… Now he knows it was because he just didn’t like Jaskier.
Jaskier is at some dingy tavern somewhere, having left the last court he was hired at when he heard of a witcher and a young girl traveling together. It’s been 4 years since the mountain and Jaskier has no intention of seeing the mighty White Wolf. 22 to fucking years of his life and he Geralt couldn’t even call him a friend .If he had been a human that would have been the best years of his life. Thrown away following a man that didn’t even seem to care about him. He doesn’t stay at the inn, mounting his horse Buttercup and heading to the next town as soon as he finishes his food.
He had considered letting them find him, for Ciris sake. He’d visited the Cintran court every year to keep an eye on her, giving her presents and performing on her name day at Pavetta’s request and after. But each time he thought about it he remembered the look on Geralt's face and changed his mind.
He’s currently camping, sitting on his bed roll and playing something sad, that’s all he seems to play when he’s alone these days. He’s doing fine financially, he’s Jaskier the Bard after all, renowned across the continent and a professor at Oxenfurt. Emotionally? … Well that’s none of your business.
He sets down his lute and starts a fire, sun starting to set, he’s settling back down to play when he hears the familiar sound of hoofs walking towards them, he grits his teeth and hopes it’s just some regular traveler, hoping that Destiny would be kind to his heart for once. Destiny seems to think shattering his heart is fucking hilarious though, because of course it’s Roach. Of course it’s fucking Geralt and his Child Surprise, said Child Surprise riding Roach. He sees them making their way towards them when he starts to pack his things, he’s about to get onto Buttercup when he hears Geralt's voice.
“Jaskier.” Jaskier stops himself from turning around, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stand the look on Geralt's face.
He hears Ciri jump off Roach and run to him. “Jaskier!” He turns around then, fake smile on his face and hugs Ciri back when she practically tackles him. “Hello there, Princess, it’s good to see you’re safe.” She smiles at him and Geralt walks towards Jaskier.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“You have?”
“Yes! We missed you and I wanted to see you again! Geralt’s been really sad too, he got all grumpy when I mentioned you.’
“Ciri” Geralt says, his voice sounding soft but slightly scolding. He seems a bit embarrassed by Ciris words “Can you set up camp while I talk to Jaskier?” Ciri gives him a mischievous grin and goes to get the camping supplies from roach.
Jaskier refuses to meet his eyes, hands clenched at his sides “Geralt.”
“Jaskier, I…” Geralt steps closer to him and Jaskier can’t stop himself from looking up at him. “I’m sorry.”
Jaskier blinks at him in surprise.
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you and… And the things I said you didn’t deserve that it wasn’t your fault.”
“No I didn’t and no it wasn’t.”
“I know… That I hurt you and I can’t really fix that but I’d like to try, if you want. You could… Join us again on the Path and come to Kaer Morhen with us. I know it would be good for Ciri, she’s missed you… I’ve missed you.”
Jaskier swallows. “I think that’s the most you’ve said to me at the same time.”
Geralt's lips twitch upwards.
Jaskier bites his lip and takes a deep breath. He knows he’s already forgiven him, his stupid heart desperately wanting to be close to Geralt, melting at Geralts apology, angre dissapaiting. He knows he’ll say yes but that doesn’t mean he can’t get Geralt to work for it a little more.
“Okay, I forgive you.”
Geralt looks up, relieved.
“But, no more insults. And I can’t… I might take some time to get to how we used to be. And… I don’t know if I’ll join you in the winter. Not until we get there.”
“I understand. I’ll try to be better.”
Jaskier nods.
Jaskier tries to quell the bitterness there later that night when they talk about Yennefer.
“We aren’t doing anything anymore… Not like that. But she’ll be helping me train Ciri. We’re… We’re friends now.”
Jaskier nods, friends. Geralt still hasn’t called him that.
Jaskier is asleep when Ciri asks if they’re friends and Geralt hums. “Yes but… But better.”
__
They travel together, occasionally meeting up with Yennefer. Geralt is kinder, doesn’t snap at Jaskier, doesn’t pretend to be annoyed when he plays at night, even smiles at Jaskier when he plays a particular tune, but he still doesn’t call him his friend. Winter rolls around and Ciri asks Jaskier to go to Kaer Morhen with them.
“Please?” says Geralt, his eyes pleading, and Jaskier knows he can’t deny them.
That night is happy, Geralt pressed against Jaskier as Haskier teaches Ciri a few chords on the Lute.
__
Things continue to improve, Geralt compliments his singing, they share food sometimes, Geralt lets him wash his hair… Even asks for it one time. But he can’t get rid of the hurt when Geralt still tenses under his touch sometimes yet leans into it other times. Flipping between comfortable and jumpy when he tends his wounds, but always relaxed when Ciri helps. It leaves Jaskier reeling, Geralt doesn’t glare or pull away but... He never knows when his touch is welcome, never knows when it’s okay and when it’s not.
One night, Geralt throws an arm over Jaskiers waist like Jaskier used to do when they shared a bed at an inn, Geralt would reciprocate but never start it himself. That’s what they’re doing again after all, they got two beds, letting Ciri have one. It’s the first time Geralt initiates touch, the first time he reaches out first, and Jaskier is giddy with joy. Until the next day when Geralt pulls away immediately and doesn’t meet his eyes that morning.
Jaskier misses the longing look Geralt gives him later, the way his cheeks had heated up that morning.
__
They finally arrive at Kaer Morhen. Geralt's brothers already there, Geralt practically tackles them with a hug, Jaskier has never seen Geralt do that, never seen him so open with his affection. He swallows a lump, they’re brothers, it’s different.
But he can’t shake the feeling that creeps up again, the inadequacy, the jealousy. Not as Geralt tells them that Yenneder is a friend now, not as Geralt avoids Jaskiers look after Jaskier talks to Eskel, not as Geralt shies away from his touch again, not as Geralt avoids him for a day after Jaskier throws his arm over his shoulder when his tipsy, and Geralt grabs his waist in return.
Jaskiers head is reeling, Geralt returns his touches one day and refuses to meet his eyes the next, when he finally stops doing that he refuses to call Jaskier his friend, scowling and Lambert when he calls Jaskier Gerlats very special and best friend.
He growls when Eskel mentions that he’s talked about Jaskier, he glares when Lambert compliments his singing. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, he thought things were getting better, but Jaskier falls asleep on him and Geralt can’t meet his eyes for two days.
He sees him hug Yennefer when she arrives, freely calls her his friend, and doesn't seem bothered when she touches his shoulder.
He can’t take it anymore. He knows he can’t leave, not wanting to disappoint Ciri and knowing he wouldn’t make it anyways. He does the next best thing, he steals some of Lambert's Vodka one night, secluding himself in the library after everyones gone to sleep and tries to get himself shitfaced. He cries, and laughs and curses and drinks. He’s sobering up, unfortunately, one of the downsides of being part dragon, it takes a lot to get drunk and almost nothing to sober up. He’s pouring himself another glass when the door opens. He expects it to be Lambert, more than ready to tell him he’ll pay him for the bottle and maybe another one when he looks up.
It’s Geralt, wearing a worried expression. Jaskier huffs. “What?”
“You’re drunk.”
“No shit.”
“You were… Crying. Why?”
“Nooone of your business, darling” the pet name coming out mockingly.
Geralt flinches and Jaskier feels the stab of pain at his chest and decides to just drink from the bottle, Geralt rushes forward and grabs the bottle from his hand. Jaskier whines “Heyyy I was drinking that.”
Geralt closes the bottle and gives him a stern look. “Why are you doing this?”
“Fuck off.”
“Jaskier… Please.”
“Ugh, don’t… Don’t pretend like you care you fucking…”
Geralt looks hurt for a second, weird.
“I do care.”
“Sure you do.”
“Jaskier. I do care.”
“No you don’t.”
“Jaskier..”
“No you don’t! We aren’t even… Friends!” He stands up, not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.
Wow, now Geralt really does look hurt. “Why would you think that? I brought you here, I’m doing better.”
Jaskier scoffs. “The fuck you are! You can’t even… You can’t even look me in the fucking eye after we touch, can’t even fucking stand to see others like my singing.”
“Jaskier, I-”
“You don’t care! You.. you avoid me and you don’t want me around!”
“Yes I do!”
“No you don’t!”
Geralt puts down the bottle and grabs Jaskiers shoulders, Jaskier pushes at his chest weakly, not really trying to move him.
“Jaskier… You don’t understand-”
“No you don’t understand! You said… You said you’d be better, but can’t even call me your fucking friend !”
Geralt doesn’t respond.
“22 fucking years, Geralt! 22 years and you can’t even call me your friend! You can’t make up your mind on wether you hate me being near you, can’t seem to make up your fucking mind about whether you care!” Fuck, when did he start crying. “You’ve known Yennefer for what? 12 years? A decade less than me and you still can’t...”
Geralt cups Jaskier’s face and lets out a wounded sound. “It’s not… It’s not like you think, Jaskier.”
Jaskier glares at him, eyes still brimming with tears. “Oh yeah? Then what’s it fucking like , Geralt?”
Geralt looks away. Jaskier scoffs pulling away when Geralt draws him closer. “I want to tell you, but I don’t want you to… To hate me. If I do.”
Jaskier looks at him in confusion. “I can’t hate you Geralt. Even after… I never hated you.”
Geralt looks at him, swallowing.
“Gerat, tell me what it is, or I will walk out of this fucking library and ask Yennefer to portal me to Oxenfurt.” an empty threat “I won’t stay where I’m not-”
“No! I… The reason I can’t call you my friend” Geralts voice is quiet, as if he’s afraid if he says it too loud he’ll scare Jaskier away “the reason I can’t touch you is… Because you aren’t just a friend to me. You-you’re something more. Jaskier I,” he takes a deep breath, his voice barely a whisper. “I love you. I have for a long time and I know you don’t love me back and that’s why I can’t.. I get jealous, and when you touch me I feel guilty because… I want. I want more” Jaskier is staring at him in stunned silence.
Geralt sees to take that as rejection, pulling away “I’m sorry.” Jaskiers brain finally catches up and he pulls Geralt in by the collar smashing their lips together.
It’s an awkward angle at first but Geralt melts into it,lips moving perfectly together, each pouring love into it, years of suppressed emotions.
When they finally pull away Geralt is looking at him in awe.
“You big fucking idiot. I’ve been singing your praises for two decades . I get into fights for you. I’ve been in love with you for 26 years .”
Geralt kisses him again, more desperate this time, he presses Jaskier against a wall softly and whispers against his lips a soft I love you. They stay like that for a while, kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other. They head to Geralt's room, lying together and kissing each other until they fall asleep.
__
They’re cuddled up together, Jaskier using Geralt as a pillow as Geralt runs his hands through Jaskiers hair, planting a small kiss on his head.
“So you thought.. That I hated you?”
“No, I thought you just didn’t like me.”
“Hmm. I’m sorry. I took so long to tell you.”
“Well, we’re here now, and we have time.” Jaskier leans up for a kiss.
“We have time” Geralt echoes back.
For the rest of their stay they’re constantly touching, softly and full of love. Holding hands, cuddling up, kisses on cheeks and tumbles in bed late into the night.
Lambert fake gags, Yennefer rolls her eyes and Ciri pretends to be annoyed, but they notice the way the others smile at them, happy they got their heads out of their ass.