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“Geralt!” Jaskier called as he pulled the duvet off the bed, books flying into the corners of the room. “Oh cock, Geralt!” he yelled louder “I can’t find my glasses!”
They were maybe sort of a little bit late for a friend date with Triss and Yennefer, and it was maybe his fault, but not completely. Geralt knew by now that Jaskier got caught up in his composing and lost track of time. Geralt should have knocked on his door sooner, but alas, five minutes before they were supposed to leave Geralt decided to remind him. Jaskier had gotten dressed in record time but somewhere in the confusion he’d put his glasses down.
And now he couldn’t find them.
“Geralt!!” He shouted, pouting at his friend’s absence. “Stupid witcher.”
“Jaskier, I was only next door, no need to scream,” Geralt sighed in fond exasperation. He had Jaskier’s glasses in his hand.
“Oh.”
“Hmm.”
Jaskier felt himself blush slightly as he took the frames from Geralt’s hand. “Thanks, my dear. Where—”
“In the bathroom.”
“Right,” Jaskier grinned sheepishly, flexing his fingers “brain’s all over the place.”
And it was, always was at this time of year. People just obsessed over love and partners and romance, and Jaskier… well… it all got a bit much. It threw his anxiety through the roof, even though he had Geralt and they were very happy with their own little, strictly platonic arrangement. He knew people assumed they were dating. His own mother kept asking when the witcher would be proposing to him, because apparently Jaskier was not the one to propose in their relationship… if any of them wanted that, which they didn’t. They’d been living together as best friends for almost a decade and still his own family didn’t understand.
Sometimes it was easier just not to correct them.
And other times he got so irrationally angry that they never believed him.
Geralt was good for him. He kept Jaskier’s head out of the clouds and Jaskier stopped his witcher from being pitifully self-loathing. It worked for them, and that was enough.
“Come on,” Geralt grunted. “Yen hates it when we’re late.”
Jaskier smirked, nudging Geralt’s shoulder with his own. “It was your fault last time,” he reminded the witcher. Geralt had taken a contract a few days before their last date with the girls and ended up getting back an hour late and covered in drowner guts. “Lost glasses is better than monster guts.”
“I was working.”
Jaskier pouted at Geralt and reached up to kiss his cheek. “It was still gross and you know it.”
“Hmm.”
Jaskier stuck his tongue out, before linking arms with his friend. It was time to face the music. Yennefer and Triss had started dating officially only a few months before but honestly they’d been circling around each other for years, which was only really making Jaskier feel worse. He knew that people were expecting him and Geralt to come to a similar conclusion but it just wasn’t going to happen.
They’d tried once.
After two weeks of awkwardly avoiding talking to each other the both gave in and gratefully returned to their friendship, vowing never to be so idiotic again. It had simply been the pressures of society, and Jaskier hated it when people judged him. He’d just wanted to be… well… normal. If such a thing existed.
They made their way to the little cafe in town. Yennefer was sat there, looking perfect as usual, scrolling through something on her phone. Her other hand was holding Triss’s on the table. Triss was reading a book on her tablet by looks of it, Jaskier recognised the layout of the website even from a distance. He laughed. Even centuries old sorceresses weren’t too old for fanfic!
He idly wondered what fandom had caught her interest, but that was a conversation for another time. Yennefer’s violet eyes flashed up, cool and intense, even after all this time he still shivered.
“Boys,” she said dryly as if she wanted to be anywhere else but at the cafe waiting for them, but Jaskier didn’t take it to heart, that was just Yennefer’s way. “You’re late.”
“I—”
“Lost your glasses, you’ll lose your head next,” Yennefer smirked but reached up to kiss Geralt’s cheek as they approached the table. “Geralt.”
“Yen, it’s good see you, and you Triss,” Geralt sat down opposite Yennefer and Jaskier slid in next to him, keeping a hand on his witcher’s leg.
“Don’t mind her,” Triss smiled warmly, “She’s been looking forward to this for weeks.”
“An exaggeration,” Yennefer muttered, her act of indifference fooling no one on the table. “So, still stubbornly friends?”
Jaskier’s fingers gripped Geralt’s leg under the table, this had been what he was waiting for. They had the same conversation every time, but this time Jaskier had an answer. They’d done some research on the internet, both frustrated with the way neither of them ever seemed to want the romantic relationship that everyone else on the planet was obsessed with.
And oh ho ho! The discoveries they’d made. It turned out that they weren’t alone, that there was even a word for it these days. The validation had been the best feeling, truly beyond words, and Jaskier would know, words were his living.
“Still friends, always will be,” Geralt grumbled.
Jaskier bumped their shoulders together and pinned Yennefer with a steely glare, one to rival hers. “It’s called aromantic, darling. Look it up.”
Yennefer raised an eyebrow. “Aromantic?”
“Mhmm,” Jaskier replied before picking up the menu to browse the sandwich options “and Geralt is my platonic partner. It’s umm, ah. Well… sort of like a best friend but… more committed? No romantic feelings involved though before you ask.”
“Right,” Yennefer didn’t sound convinced but Triss squeezed her hand, stopping any scathing remark that the sorceress might have.
“We’ll look it up when we get home, thanks for trusting us Jaskier.”
Jaskier beamed and rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder. It had gone better than expected. He’d been expecting them to completely dismiss it off the bat, but then again, Yennefer and Triss had been friends with Geralt for a few decades now. They were alright, he supposed.
“Alright?” Triss asked with a laugh.
“Stay out of my head,” he groaned.
“You love us, Jask. Don’t deny it.”
“Yeah yeah,” he muttered and stuck his tongue out at the sorceress. “You’re not bad.”
“Jaskier,” Geralt growled.
“Urgh, fine. You are my two favourite sorceresses in the whole wide world, I will sing your praises from the tops of the highest mountains, nay from the heavens above!”
“Jaskier!”
Jaskier grinned and kissed Geralt’s cheek. “You love me, shush.”
“Hmm,” Geralt agreed.