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the tale of two idiots and their path to a married life

Summary:

Jaskier walks closer, eyes trained on Geralt’s. “No, I— yes, I mean, fuck, Geralt,” he mutters, breathless. Geralt takes another box from his pocket; this one is black velvet, the right color. It encases the ring Jaskier had bought for his boyfriend months ago. Geralt holds two boxes. Two rings. 

In retrospect, Jaskier should have known they were perfectly stupid for one another.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Geralt?” Jaskier digs through the drawers, flinging clothes behind him. It’s going to be hell to clean up, and he grimaces as his silks land on the floor but this is more important. His heart is in his throat, chest tight. He has to find it, it was perfect, he has to find it.

“Geralt! Geralt, have you seen—” he groans in frustration, slamming drawers shut. There’s nothing more important than finding it, he has to. Jaskier curses his own stupidity as he slips on a shirt and lands on his ass. He hears snickering from the kitchen, and dusts himself off as he heads toward it. 

Geralt notices the moment he gets there, amusement on his face. “Geralt, have you seen,” Jaskier flicks his hand, wanting to keep his surprise vague, “the little box, do you know where it is?” 

His boyfriend breaks out into a bright grin, and Jaskier watches with surprise as he sinks to one knee on the lino kitchen floor. “This?” He slips a small box out of his pocket, but it’s not the same color as the one he’d been looking f—

Oh. 

Jaskier walks closer, eyes trained on Geralt’s. “No, I— yes, I mean, fuck, Geralt,” he mutters, breathless. Geralt takes another box from his pocket; this one is black velvet, the right color. It encases the ring Jaskier had bought for his boyfriend months ago. Geralt holds two boxes. Two rings. 

Oh, fuck.

He slowly sinks to his knee in front of Geralt, taking the ring he’d bought from his boyfriend’s hand. They’re so stupid, dammit, he chuckles. 

“Jaskier, flower—” 

“Geralt, you’re—” 

Geralt’s smile grows into a sly grin. Jaskier squints his eyes in a challenge. 

“Marry me—” 

“Marry me—” 

They break out into giggles, and Jaskier feels tears threaten his eyes as he pulls Geralt into a hug. This is so stupid, he thinks, he’d wanted it to be special, fancy but here they are knelt on the kitchen floor with matching grins. Geralt leans back to draw him into a kiss, and Jaskier feels the tears well over. 

“I love you so much,” Geralt says, voice shaky. Jaskier holds him tighter, too choked up to reply. 

When Ciri comes over later to notice her dads wearing an engagement ring each, she thinks they’re perfectly stupid for one another.