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Geralt was the first witcher that Jaskier had met. He’d heard rumours, of course, of witcher’s beast like nature; ‘Inhuman monsters’ they were called. Jaskier had assumed the rumours were grossly exaggerated, made-up bedtime stories to scare young children. So when he’d spotted Geralt of Rivia in the back of a tavern, two fluffy white ears pressed back against the equally snowy white hair, he’d been surprised. He’d been even more surprised when Geralt stood up and a long equally fluffy tail followed him, sticking out from a custom made hole in the back of his trousers. Geralt had bared his teeth and let out a nasty sounding snarl when Jaskier called him the Butcher of Blaviken but at the mention of Jaskier changing the public’s opinion of witchers, Geralt’s ears pricked up, just a fraction. Jaskier suppressed his grin but took note of that delightful little piece of information and, whilst the gut punch hurt, he knew Geralt wanted him there; even if the witcher wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
After a couple of days of travelling together Jaskier was convinced that Geralt was the love of his life. Not only was he insanely hot, he was also noble and kind, which just a tinge of self-loathing that made Jaskier’s heart ache. It was in the way Geralt’s tail practically tucked between his legs whenever someone insulted him and his kind, or the sad little whimper whenever a child was yanked away by their parents as Geralt walked past… Jaskier couldn’t stand it. He loved Geralt and he just couldn’t understand what the rest of the world saw when they looked at him. He made it his mission to make sure Geralt saw the light in the world again.
It started slowly at first, Geralt’s tail would thump against the ground when Jaskier began to pluck at his lute in the evenings around the campfire, then the witcher would growl and move so he was sitting on his tail. Jaskier smirked but didn’t say anything, Geralt only seemed to notice the really obvious times his wolf-like features gave him away, but Jaskier saw everything. The barely visible twitches in his ears whenever Jaskier praised him, or the soft wag of a tail as they walked together along the path.
When the first separated for the winter Jaskier thought his heart was going to break. The look that Geralt gave him when he announced he’d be heading back to Oxenfurt. He really did look like a kicked puppy, a low whine in his chest. Jaskier patted the witcher’s cheek and pulled Geralt into a hug.
“You’ll see me again, witcher. I’m not done with you yet,” he hummed softly in Geralt’s ear and pressed his lips to his cheek.
Geralt just whined again and watched, frozen in place as Jaskier headed down the path towards Oxenfurt. Geralt would be heading north for winter, some secret location that Jaskier wasn’t allowed to know about. Jaskier sighed and steadily avoided looking back until he was sure Geralt would be out of sight. He had his friends and professors to meet up with, and tales to tell! The best place to debut his newest songs about the White Wolf would be Oxenfurt. This was for Geralt’s benefit. He was doing it for his best friend.
Jaskier grinned at that thought. He’d never really had a best friend before. This year had truly been the best year of his life!
His winter at Oxenfurt had been just the break he’d needed. A few months living the life of luxury was enough to settle the ache in his muscles and soothe his soul but by spring he was bored of the city and staying in one place too long. There was a reason he’d fought to be a travelling bard instead of staying at Lettenhove. His wanderlust was unmatched. He needed to keep moving, see the world and all its wonders. His adventures with Geralt had given him that opportunity.
The thought of Geralt brought an unbidden smile to his face. He’d missed the witcher over winter. Whenever he had a rare moment alone his mind always returned to his friend, to his heart. He wondered where Geralt had gone, he hoped it was comfortable and warm. After the year on the path and the abuse he had to face, he deserved some peace. Jaskier snorted, Geralt deserved more than peace; he deserved the world, the moon and stars. Of course, his darling witcher would probably just settle for a warm bath, perhaps some good food for the most noble steed on the Continent. Geralt loved his horse more than anything. The care he gave her made Jaskier melt inside. A man capable of tearing monsters apart in his sleep could also be so gentle and kind.
Gods, Jaskier wanted him.
He huffed and adjusted his lute strap. Geralt had gone north and so Jaskier would follow. If he were lucky they’d meet up halfway and be able to head back to warmer climates together. A little voice hissed in the back of his head. What if Geralt didn’t want him? But then Jaskier remembered Geralt’s sad wide eyes when they’d parted and promptly trampled that voice. It knew shit all.
Geralt wanted him.
And Geralt did indeed want him. He’d scented Jaskier long before he’d come into sight and kicked Roach into a canter. Jaskier had almost been knocked flying and Roach flew past him, still cantering as Geralt jumped off, with a level of skill Jaskier had never seen before in all his life. Geralt’s arms were wrapped around him before he could even process what was happening and Geralt’s nose was buried in his neck.
Tentatively he reached up and patted Geralt on the head, his fingers brushing past the soft silky ears. Geralt whined gently and nipped at Jaskier’s neck. He hummed and closed his eyes, enjoying his witcher’s affection. Geralt could barely contain his excitement and Jaskier felt… loved?
He hadn’t realised the witcher cared that much.
Geralt’s tail was wagging steadily behind him and he gripped Jaskier tighter. Jaskier wasn’t quite sure how to react so he did what any respectable bard would do and began to sing, a soft lullaby that his mother had sung to him as a child. When Geralt finally released him, Jaskier patted his cheek and gazed at his best friend.
“Did you miss me, my dear witcher?” He asked with a tilted of his head, a smile dancing on his lips.
“Hmm,” Geralt hummed, barely hiding his own smirk “No.”
“Oh fuck off,” Jaskier snorted.
“It was lonely at home without you,” Geralt admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I drove my brothers mad.”
Jaskier grinned and linked his arm with Geralt’s. “Well then, you’ll have to tell me all about it! Anything I can write about?”
Geralt snorted and rolled his eyes, but his tail still hadn’t stopped wagging.
Jaskier was suddenly hit with the feeling that he was home.