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Oxenfurt; the city that never sleeps, a truly remarkable place and one that was home to the most celebrated bards, artists and scholars in all the Continent, only rivalled in beauty by Beauclair. The colours were dazzling and the music never stopped, a perfect city for young students to live their lives to the fullest.
Not so perfect for a tired professor who could no longer drink himself silly without getting a monstrous headache.
He groaned as the sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, rolling over to find an empty space next him. There was a sinking feeling in his heart as he peered blearily at the other side of the bed, half sitting up before his head began to spin.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned and flopped back down onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he cuddled the pillow. It still smelled like sandalwood, like Valdo. He whined petulantly.
They’d only been dating since the start of term, rekindling their romance from their days as students. It had been an unexpected turn of events when Jaskier accepted a position as a full time professor at the Academy, in fact, he’d been sort of dreading working with Valdo again… but there had always been something about the other bard that drew Jaskier in, and now they were both older and wiser, they seemed to fit together in a way they never had before.
It made Jaskier feel like a teenager again, his first crush quickly developing into the love of his life, which was why it stung when Valdo wasn’t beside him when he woke up. Neither of them had classes today, it was why they’d spent a night on the town… so where was he?
Jaskier tried again to sit up, rubbing his eyes as he did. His throat felt like sand and his head was pounding, like a giant was walking all over him. He blinked wearily as he glanced around the room. There was a glass of water by the bed, and what looked like some kind of herbal potion, grey and gloopy…
He groaned but knocked back the potion, swiftly chugging his glass of water to wash away the bitter taste before his stomach could protest. After a few minutes his headache started to ease and the world stopped spinning.
“Thank you, Melitele,” he breathed and laid back down on the bed, staring wistfully up at the ceiling.
“Melitele had nothing to do with it, darling,” Valdo chuckled from the doorway and Jaskier sat up far too quickly in his excitement.
“Ow, oh shit,” he whined, and buried his head in his hands.
“You’re a mess.”
Jaskier scoffed, pouting up at his boyfriend, who was holding a tray of food and goblets in his hands. “I’m your mess?”
“You think I would have learned my lesson the first time around,” Valdo teased as he crossed the room to sit back down on the bed, the tray balancing precariously in his lap.
“Mean.”
“Naturally.”
“I love you?”
Valdo rolled his eyes, kissing Jaskier’s temple before shuffling onto the bed, the food tray sat between them. “I love you too, darling. I brought breakfast, gods know you’ll need it.”
“I already drank that foul concoction,” Jaskier grumbled, the bitter taste still lingered in his mouth despite the water, and he had a feeling that he would be tasting the aftermath of the potion for the rest of his pitiful life.
“You’ll thank me for it, now eat something, you idiot,” Valdo chided him.
Jaskier glanced down at the plate. It was filled to the brim of his favourite cheeses, warm bread rolls, the honied ham that he adored and a cinnamon bun, dripping with a sweet honey glaze. The goblets were sadly filled with water, a testament to how far they’d come since being students. Jaskier giggled as he plucked a slice of ham from the plate. “Do you remember when we were students?”
“There’s no better hangover cure than a bottle of Fiorano, followed by a bottle of Est Est,” Valdo recited, wistfully, “That stopped working for me when I hit twenty five.”
Jaskier laughed. “Old man,” he teased, “It stopped working for me at thirty two.”
“Bollocks.”
“It’s true!”
“You’re a fucking liar, Pankratz,” Valdo laughed, the insult holding no menace. If anything, he sounded rather fond.
“You’ll never prove it, Marx,” Jaskier shot back, leaning in for a kiss but he was stopped by Valdo’s fingers on his lips.
“Not a chance. I know what was in that potion,” Valdo grimaced.
The thought made Jaskier’s already fragile stomach lurch but the potion worked wonders and the nausea soon passed. He pouted and settled for kissing his boyfriend on the cheek, sighing as he rested his head on Valdo’s shoulder. “Sing for me?” he asked, continuing to pick at the plate of food. The ham was particularly greasy, one of his favourite ways to cure a hangover. It would have been perfect with a couple of fried eggs but Valdo seemed to have gone for a cold breakfast instead, and with the effort his boyfriend had clearly put into the plate, Jaskier couldn’t complain.
“Thank you, dear heart,” he mumbled around mouthfuls of food.
Valdo chuckled, wrapping an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
“Anytime?” Jaskier drawled, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.
“Maybe once a week,” Valdo amended quickly.
“You said anytime!” Jaskier whined. “No take backs.”
Valdo groaned, “We’re not students anymore Jaskier."
But Jaskier knew his boyfriend well, he’d known him since they were fifteen after all, and he recognised the defeated sigh. Yes they weren’t students anymore, but after decades walking the Continent in near poverty, Jaskier was looking forward to the luxury of spending his hard earned wage in the taverns of Oxenfurt. Ooh and maybe they could go shopping, he knew of a rather impressive tailor living in the suburbs of Novigrad that he’d been dying to try, and Priscilla had settled in Novigrad too. “We could visit Pris next weekend?”
Valdo’s face softened, crinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. “Gods, I haven’t seen Pris in years…”
“Sooo, that’s a yes,” Jaskier grinned, snuggling closer to his boyfriend, relishing in his victory.
“Maybe,” Valdo hummed.
“Whatever you say, dearest.”
“Pest,” Valdo scoffed.
“Arsehole.”
“Bastard.”
Jaskier grinned. “Yours.”
He felt another kiss on the top of his hair. “My love.”