Work Text:
The Semi-Charmed Life of Julian Pankratz,
Assistant Manager at Suzy’s Adult Novelty Boutique
That One Time Geralt Moved In
by yolki palki (Lemon)
beta by the lovely Jadelyn
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It was perfect timing.
The guy could easily make the rent and offered to pay three months upfront when he was told that Jaskier wasn’t going to require a deposit.
I mean sure, the guy seemed quiet the few times they’d spoken, but Jaskier didn’t mind.
How was he supposed to know that his new roommate was stupidly gorgeous and built like a Greek god with thighs that could crush his head like a fucking grape?
Oh...and was quite possibly a serial killer.
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It was just a temporary thing.
The rent was stupidly cheap.
The guy seemed relatively normal...ish over the phone.
How was Geralt supposed to know that he was...well...he was...well, he really didn’t know how to describe him. In all his life he had never met anyone quite like Jaskier.
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The plan had been to meet at the apartment at 3:00 pm. It was now nearly 4:30 pm. Jaskier worked at 5:00 pm and the drive was 35 minutes without traffic. Geralt had said he was going to be moving in this evening while Jaskier was at work but he was quickly running out of time to do that.
Jaskier paced around the kitchen growing increasingly agitated as he shot another text message to his new roommate. Geralt had said, “No phone calls. Ever.” But he had also said he was going to be there an hour and a half ago, so as far as Jaskier was concerned, all bets were now off. If the guy didn’t hurry he was going to be late for work. And of all of the chaos that was his very existence, that he just sort of vibed in and let take him wherever it may go, he could not stand to be late. That was where Julian Alfred Pankratz drew the very thin, arbitrary line.
“Okay, sorry mate you ran out of time.” He muttered to himself, calling Geralt as he gathered up his jacket and work lanyard.
“Hmm.”
Hmm? No, don’t say that, don’t-
“ Hmm ? Who answers the phone like that. HMM? Well, hmm , it’s me, Jaskier. I thought we were meeting here at the apartment an hour and a half ago.”
Silence. Then finally Geralt cleared his throat and spoke.
“Something came up.”
“No worries.” Oh, yes worries. Very much worries. All the worries. “Very sorry but I’ve got to leave for work.” He made no effort to hide the edge in his tone that said he was absolutely not very sorry and that Geralt was in fact the one who should be very sorry.
“I can meet you there to get the key or wait.”
“I don’t care either way, but our neighbors might object to you moving your shit in at damn near midnight,” Jaskier said, shifting his phone to hold it with his face as he locked the door and headed down the stairs. “I’ll text you the address if you decide to show up, it’s a bit of a commute though.”
“I don’t mind. See you there.”
“Kay.”
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Geralt stood in front of the small store on a crowded and wealthy-looking strip mall. He opened his text messages to the first unsaved number, then glanced up at the building in front of him.
Maybe he just had the wrong address? Hopefully...he just had the wrong address.
The store had a red-brick facade with a neon pink and black graffiti-style “XXX” painted over the window on the right-hand side. Two headless mannequins posed in the window dressed in angel and devil themed lingerie, their bare necks hidden under latex horse head masks. The flickering neon sign in a bright green read “Suzy’s Adult Novelty Boutique”.
Nope. This was the place.
Geralt sighed, shoved his phone in his pocket, and reached for the door. Hmm, single deadbolt lock. A hideous triple-chime went off as he pulled the door open and walked in. It was dark, the bare concrete walls painted matte black and fixed with metal and pressboard fixtures. No windows, no doors, no emergency exit. The only way out or in was through the front. Presumably, there was a back office, that might have an exit, likely to set off an alarm though. Loud punk music threatened to drown out the patrons and drill the very thoughts from his skull. He hadn’t been inside thirty seconds and he already hated everything about this.
Six cameras hung from corners and the ceilings, all fake. Feedback video at the front door displayed at 4 fps but it was dark enough that it would be useless and it probably didn’t record anyway.
The cash register sat on an island in the middle of the store, a curtain of beads directly behind it that left nothing of the adult content on the other side to the imagination. He made straight for the register, noting that towers and rolling display fixtures left a majority of the store in blind spots. That seemed like an incredibly stupid thing to do. You couldn’t see the front door because of a huge drop-down panel display, also a major tactical error. He stood at the register, drumming his fingers until someone greeted him and stepped behind the counter.
Geralt crossed his arms over his chest, trying his best not to glower...too much.
Young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, the androgynous adult was short and slender, sixty-four inches in height, probably around one-hundred pounds, maybe less. They had a distinctive and rather unflattering haircut the color of a fire hydrant and no eyebrows, which made the hair seem even brighter. An old shirt, new shoes, pants that were more fabric patches than pants, and nails chewed down to the nailbed. They wore a nametag that hung from a lanyard covered in buttons with a wrinkled piece of paper shoved in the worn plastic holder that read:
ziggi
Sales Associate
they/them please
The kid was staring at him expectantly.
He cleared his throat. “I’m looking for Jaskier.”
They beamed up at him with a bright and toothy smile. They knew who he was, or at least who he was about to be. Jaskier’s new roommate.
“You must be his new roommate! I’m Ziggi. I think he’s in the back, let me grab him for you really quick.” And before Geralt could respond they were gone. Geralt stood by the register and waited, looking around at the nearly empty store.
He was idly trying to distract himself, if for no other reason than to stop his brain from cataloging every detail he observed. Another employee stepped behind the register just to walk around the side, stand directly in front of Geralt and hold out his hand expectantly. This was not at all what Geralt had expected when he had spoken to Jaskier on the phone.
Male. Seventy-one inches tall, around two-hundred and seventy-five pounds. Around thirty years in age. Far east Asian heritage, natural green eyes, well-muscled but targeted. He had built this muscle in the gym, not in the field. Lots of tattoos, many of them old and worn. Raven black hair swooped over one eye, the other side of his head shaved bald. He had two eyebrow piercings in each eyebrow, a piercing through the bridge of the nose, and a septum piercing as thick around as Geralt’s finger.
“Hey there. You must be Jaskier’s new roommate. I’m Georgie, I work with Jaskier.”
He was right. Not Jaskier.
Apparently, everyone knew who Geralt was. Geralt shook Georgie’s hand reluctantly. “Geralt.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Geralt. Like I said, I’m Georgie and this is Badger.” He said as he slammed the counter a couple of times to point to the sound of someone shuffling through a cupboard below the counter.
“What’s up?” A voice called.
“Jaskier is on a conference call right now but he’ll be done any minute.” Georgie continued, folding his arms over his chest in an oddly welcome gesture. “Let’s see, you already met Ziggi.”
The woman rummaging behind the counter stood, putting her hands on her hips. Female. Sixty-five inches in height, around one-hundred and ninety pounds. She was probably in her mid-to late-twenties. She was soft and curvy with a round face and piercings through the dimples of her cheeks. She had brown hair, the underneath layer of which was platinum blonde, neither of which were natural. In the center of her forehead, she had a tattoo of an eye.
“Is this Jaskier’s new guy?” She asked Georgie as she walked around the register to set a hand on Geralt’s bicep. As her hand grasped at the muscle she looked up at him with a vulgar smirk.
“Yep.” Ziggi piped up from where they were stocking novelty candy on the other side of the register. “He’s here to pick up his keys but Jaskier’s still talking to JP.”
“Did you tell him his new roommate is here?” Badger asked, her eyes probing Geralt in a way that made him feel incredibly naked.
“Ha! Me, when I'm actually afraid of Jaskier." Ziggi forced a laugh, throwing their head back before falling serious and wide-eyed. “No, he looked about as happy as a man attending his own beheading.”
“You know Vice just got off she probably hasn’t even left yet. Text her and tell her that Geralt is here. She’ll wanna meet him too.” Badger said presumably to someone other than Geralt, though she refused to take her eyes off of him.
It was an ambush.
This was a mistake. This was a terrible mistake.
Much to Geralt’s dismay, the trickle of customers seemed to slow over the next twenty minutes, leaving the employees completely unoccupied to bombard him with questions and small talk. Badger left twice to check on Jaskier in the store’s small office just to come back out with pursed lips, shaking her head.
Georgie had finally stopped laughing at whatever it was that Vice had said to set him off and spoke. “Okay, okay. Let’s see. Bondage tape or silk ropes?”
Everyone shouted out their respective votes before looking to Geralt for his answer.
“Uh. Zip ties.” He muttered, absentmindedly, only half listening. Everyone stopped and turned to him, making a myriad of interesting expressions as they looked between themselves.
Fuck.
This was not a conversation Geralt was going to have with anyone. Especially not these peculiar strangers. Geralt now knew far more than he cared to know about any of these people and significantly more about his new roommate’s co-workers than he did about his roommate.
Finally, in the middle of a slew of stories from “behind the beads'', “would you rather”, and “this or that” the door to the office opened and someone stepped out. The man closed the short distance between them relatively fast.
Male. Seventy-four inches tall, around two hundred pounds. He wore tight fit jeans, bright yellow boots with black stitch lacings, and a hoodie with a portrait of Edgar Allan Poe on it, a deep red cardigan over the top of it. He had a delicate ring through his septum that hugged the bottom of his nose, two piercings in the right nostril, and one below his bottom lip, right in the middle. All simple, small, and silver. His ears were gauged to about 3/8 of an inch, dried flowers in clear plastic rested in the holes. His coloration was the most... relatively normal of the employees, with mousey brown hair and bright, stormy blue eyes. They looked unnaturally light, almost translucent. He stood in front of Geralt with a look of surprise, which quickly melted into a charming smile. He was nervous. Fidgeting. Agitated.
“Geralt.” He said as if to confirm, toying with a ring on his middle finger.
“Hmm.”
“Jaskier.” He then said, smirking as if something was absolutely hilarious. He held out his hand and Geralt shook it. “Sorry about the wait, dealing with some work shit.”
“Hmm.”
Jaskier laughed at this, placing a gentle hand on the back of Badger’s elbow he whispered something to her and she nodded, heading towards the office. Jaskier ran his hands through his hair and tilted his head, walked away from the cash register as if to indicate that Geralt should follow. He almost didn’t catch the warning look that Jaskier shot at the other employees.
Once they were alone Jaskier dug around in his pocket, pulling out a keyring with two keys on it. He looked at Geralt with unbridled enthusiasm and then began to ramble.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” He ran his hands through his hair again, letting it tumble back around his eyes, nearly dropping the keys and laughing to himself. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long, I would feel fucking awful. Though to be honest that was your fault so I shouldn't feel bad about you driving out here anyway. That’s okay though, shit happens. I’m not worried about it.” His hand was on Geralt’s arm now and Geralt resisted the urge to shrug it off. “Anyways, here, this one is for the door and this one is obviously the mailbox. Your room is cleaned out and ready to go. Let’s see, I don’t think there is anything edible in the fridge but you’re welcome to it if there is. Feel free to put any of your stuff in the common area, it’s a fucking mess right now, sorry about that. Um...yeah, I’ll be home around eleven. So in the meantime, if you have any questions you can just text me.”
“Thanks.” Geralt grumbled as he took the keys.
They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Jaskier’s eyes fixed on Geralt’s face in a way that made him unreasonably agitated. Finally, Jaskier seemed to sense the awkward tension and he cleared his throat, clasping his new roommate on the shoulder.
“Well...like I said it’s nice to meet you and I’ll see you tonight.” Jaskier smiled at him in a way that made Geralt squirm but also gave him the oddest urge to smile back.
He hated it.
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Jaskier was certain that Geralt would still be moving in by the time he got off work. But much to his surprise, the apartment was dark and locked up tight when he got there.
When he came in and flicked the living room light on, his catastrophic mess from earlier appeared completely untouched. But the kitchen had been cleaned. The old dishes in the sink had been cleaned, dried, and stacked neatly on the counter, the sink scrubbed down. It was pristine, a brighter white than Jaskier had ever seen it. Except for a dark, dried stain that ran down the side of the faucet handle. A stain that looked suspiciously like blood.
Uh….
He reached over the sink to flick on the light, his bare foot catching against something. The light flooded the small kitchen and Jaskier jumped back searching for whatever had touched his foot.
Something was hanging over the lip of the cupboard under the sink, catching the door. He grasped the tiny handle and opened the cupboard. The cleaning supplies had been neatly stacked in the same exact places they had previously been, but now they sat on a large sheet of plastic, meticulously folded and smelling strongly of bleach.
Oh. Well, okay then.
That's... normal.
The rest of the lights in the apartment were off except the light coming from beneath Geralt's door. All was still, and for a moment Jaskier could have sworn he heard the sound of someone sharpening knives.
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“Geralt?” Jaskier called out. Honestly, he didn’t know why he even bothered. Geralt had moved in Thursday and it was now Saturday evening and he had seen nothing but glimpses of the man. It was like living with a ghost.
Pad thai was the perfect peace offering. Well, if Jaskier was being honest, he had no idea if it was or not. Geralt could be deathly allergic to peanuts...or...noodles or something.
A person could be allergic to noodles…right?
Was an olive branch still a good peace offering if the person you’re offering it to is allergic to olives? Besides, he didn't even know if Geralt was allergic to olives...or peanuts. Or noodles, for that matter.
He turned to walk back to his room, resigned to eat far too much pad thai alone when he noticed that Geralt’s door was ajar.
Hmm. Nope. Don’t do it. Don’t-
He pushed it open just enough to poke his head inside. It was...minimalist would be one word, but Jaskier would probably have to go with ruthlessly efficient. It was all very functional - a mattress on a simple box spring, a small desk in the corner with tools and a lamp on a swing arm, a strangely large safe, a duffle bag at the end of the bed, and a backpack that had been tossed carelessly in the room, unzipped.
Okay. You’ve seen the room so just...or walk inside and poke around more, guess that’s fine too.
He didn’t dare touch anything, but he could look, peering into the unzipped pocket of the backpack from where he stood halfway into the room.
Brass knuckles, a bag of industrial zip ties, what appeared to be the handle of a gun, an exceptionally bloody rag.
Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool. It’s fine.
Geralt’s a murderer, confirmed.
He was so caught up in staring at the bloody contents of the bag that he hadn’t heard the squeal of the pipes as the shower turned off, or the door to the bathroom open, or Geralt walk into the room wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.
“Looking for something?” Geralt growled and Jaskier yelped as he spun around to face him, scant inches from his perfect, flush, dripping wet, very unhappy face which sat upon his perfectly chiseled, scarred, and dripping wet, very naked body.
“Penis. Ha. Pe-peanuts , I mean peanuts .” He cleared his throat and the sound that came out was little more than a pathetic whimper. “Are you, you’re not...allergic to peanuts, perchance. Are you?” He smiled sheepishly at Geralt, nonsensical excuses tumbling from his mouth as Geralt circled into the room, advancing forward, heat wafting off his soaked, perfect, lickable skin.
Lickable? Well… Yes. Ha. No. Don’t you dare. Don't you dare entertain that thought.
Geralt glared menacingly as he inched closer and closer, pushing Jaskier out the doorway.
“Be careful where you stick your nose. You might just lose it.”
And with that, Geralt slammed the door shut and locked it.
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“Good morning, my little queer babies.” Jaskier sang as he closed the front door to Suzy's and locked it.
"Well look who decided to show up." Came the groggy voice from the office.
"Well good morning to you too grumpy pants. Besides you have nothing to complain about, I'm early today."
"That doesn't mean shit," Georgie snorted. "You're always early."
“You actually got the whole weekend off, which hasn't happened since like the 1880s, plus you don’t look blissed out on sex like you spent all weekend fucking half to death. Who are you and what have you done with Jaskier?" Badger mused as she picked at her nails, swiveling slightly in the beat-up, god-awful purple office chair, her feet propped up on the small safe that was bolted to the floor.
Jaskier scowled at her half-heartedly, taking a long sip from his entirely too hot tea.
“Valid.” He sighed as he slung his bag down and reached over her to clock in. He pushed her feet off the safe and took a seat, casually sipping his tea in silence.
Georgie looked up from where he was digging through the filing cabinet, clearing his throat in a rather obvious gesture and fixing her with a stern expression. Though she never would admit it, Badger felt a pang of guilt.
“Sorry, honey. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you just went through a nasty breakup with the Demon Queen of Hell...and then a significantly nastier rebound with her personal fuckboy the Prince of Darkness...I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”
"Don't call them that. It makes them sound dope." Georgie called.
"How about Eva and Hitler?" She retorted.
Jaskier smiled softly at her painfully awkward apology. He took another sip of his drink, shoving his hands deeper in the sleeves of his cardigan. For September it was a bloody cold morning and he was none too happy about it.
Georgie closed the filing cabinet and joined them, pulling out the paperwork for the management meeting before looking at Jaskier curiously.
“Well...you were off for an entire weekend with a brand new roommate who looks like a protagonist of some fantasy novel and acts as stoic as, like Batman, you didn't text the group chat once the entire time and you’re just going to sit there sipping on your goddamn chai. Fuck you, man. I want details. Now.”
Jaskier’s disinterested expression broke into a grin as he ran his teeth over his bottom lip, catching his labret piercing and twisting it between his teeth.
“Well, he’s either a serial killer or some sort of doomsday cultist. He’s too dispassionate to be a member of a militant cult and far too sexy. Those guys always look like they got fucked in the face with a rake. So anyways I guess I live with a murderer now, cool, huh?”
Georgie laughed and Badger sat forward in the chair with a concerned look. They spoke at the same time.
“Bet!”
“I’m sorry. What.”
Jaskier shook a finger at Georgie. “If you’re making bets about me, I’m entitled to a cut of the winnings.” Then he shrugged and grinned at Badger. “I live with a murderer now. Could be worse. At least he’s a hot murderer.” Before either of them could fire back, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through text messages. “So, holidays are coming up and if we’re going to meet the threshold for bonuses then we need ten more employees before Halloween.”
So Jaskier lived with a murderer. How bad could it be, really?