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Oxenfurt had been in many ways the highlight of Jaskier’s youth. He’d been away from his parents for the first time and out in the world away from the constraints of Lettenhove. The city was loud and musical and full of young people just like him learning about the world and about themselves. His fellow students had spent most evenings exploring each other whilst he was busy with some flurry of inspiration. He wrote about love and affairs of the heart. He fell in love deeply and quickly with anyone who would give him the time of day. He learnt how to flirt and charm those around him with his music, poetry and smiles.
But it never lasted long.
He fell in love deeply and quickly but it wasn’t enough to make people stay.
Valdo had been the first person to leave him. Jaskier had delighted in holding his lover’s hand and writing epic ballads about his beauty. He had been looking forward to really getting to know Valdo, to learning everything about the man. What was his favourite colour? Was he a morning person or a night owl? Did he prefer the moon or stars? He had loved him and given time he’d hoped they could become best friends as well. That was what he really needed in his life partner.
But his dreams had been shattered after only a few days. Valdo had come back to the dorms drunk one night and pressed Jaskier hard against the wall. His lips were sloppy in their kisses as he reached down to undo Jaskier’s trousers.
Jaskier had panicked. He shoved Valdo away forcibly and fled the room. He hadn’t wanted that. Not yet. It was too soon. He had loved Valdo but without sex the relationship had meant nothing.
It kept happening, again and again. Jaskier had allowed his lovers to take him to bed once in a while. He didn’t hate sex, in fact he quite enjoyed it, but he wasn’t attracted to his lovers in the way they were to him. His looks seemed to drive them wild with lust and he just…
That wasn’t him.
For a long time he thought he was broken.
He travelled with Geralt for years before it happened. He fell in and out of love in each town and tavern they visited but his lovers were never his friends. He was just a summer fling or a quick fuck. Geralt was different. Geralt was his best friend and his longest love. The one person he couldn’t seem to fall out of love with. They were in a tavern when it happened. An ordinary tavern, no different to any he’d been to before. He looked up and winked at Geralt in the middle of his performance. Geralt gave him that fond exasperated smile and gulped down some ale with a shake of his head. The light of the candles made Geralt’s eyes glow in the dark corner of the tavern.
He looked…. divine.
There was a pool of warmth that Jaskier had never felt before as he gazed back at his best friend. He was entranced by Geralt’s lips as his tongue flicked out to taste the ale that had been left behind and Jaskier, for the first time in his life, wanted to kiss someone.
Not because he thought it would make them happy. He wanted to kiss Geralt.
His lute fell from his hands, swingingly limply in front of him as he stared at Geralt with a longing that he’d never felt before. Geralt caught him looking and he blushed but was unable to tear his gaze away. Geralt tilted his head and Jaskier felt almost dizzy. Geralt’s neck was just… there, and fuck Jaskier wanted, nay, needed to kiss it.
“Fuck.” He groaned and blinked a couple of times to try and focus anywhere else but on Geralt. “Ah, umm. Sorry folks!” He gave an apologetic wave and swung his lute to his back before hurrying over to Geralt.
“What the fuck was that, Jaskier?” Geralt asked as Jaskier slid onto the bench opposite him.
Jaskier laughed nervously and tugged at the lute strap on his chest. “An epiphany… of sorts.” He admitted, biting his lip as he tried to think of the best way to explain it. “Right. Umm. Geralt, my dear. I’m about to do something very stupid. Please don’t hold it against me?”
Geralt frowned but Jaskier didn’t let him answer. He cupped Geralt’s face in his hands and pulled the witcher into a kiss. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. His pulse raced and the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted. Gods, he wanted! To his surprise Geralt didn’t pull away, in fact, he kissed back with a low moan that made Jaskier feel things. Jaskier felt like he could cry. After so many years of feeling broken in his relationships he finally felt it. He was attracted to Geralt.
Oh fuck.
He was attracted to Geralt!
The love of his life and his very best friend in the whole wide world.
Fuck.