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Geralt is uncomfortable.
He feels itchy in his borrowed blazer.
And most importantly, he is going to kill Eskel.
Geralt grunts, staring at himself in the mirror. A casual, navy blue blazer he'd borrowed from Eskel lies a little rumpled under long white hair he'd only barely remembered to comb and eyes the color of piss that always seemed a touch too angry.
Why, oh why had he agreed to this.
A speed dating function? Really?
It feels like Eskel hates him. Why else would he send his younger brother to this sort of. . . event as recompense for something as stupid was watching his dog Scorpion for the weekend? Eskel would only send Geralt to mingle (shudder) if he's really upset with him.
And yet, it can't be true. If Eskel's bright smile when Geralt said yes was anything to go by, he'd been truly excited for him.
His doorbell rings, and Geralt stalks quickly down the stairs to answer it, only to find Eskel on the other side of it, smile firmly in place once again.
"You look good, brother!" Eskel hits him with a quick bear hug, though not tight enough to further wrinkle Geralt's clothes. He takes a step back and does an approving once over of Geralt's combination of casual navy blazer, white button up, and khakis. "You ready for tonight?"
Geralt scowls, and Eskel laughs before he can even speak.
"I know you aren't happy with me, Geralt, but trust me, I'm doing you a favor. You can't wallow in bed because of Yennefer for the rest of your life." Eskel's smile fades, his downward-turned lips pulling at jagged scars. "You have to move on sometime."
"And you think I'm going to do that. . . speed dating."
Eskel shrugs. "You don't necessarily have to find someone on the first try, Geralt. Hell, I'm not even trying to get you into another serious relationship if you aren't ready for it. But I do want you to open yourself up a little. There are lots of possibilities out there. People who might make you happy."
". . . At a speed dating function."
Eskel rolls his eyes. "Come on. I'm driving so you can't escape."
* * *
The bar, Aesop's Tables, looks to be near capacity. People mill around inside, chattering together as they wait for the event to officially begin. Geralt stifles a groan as he comes to the door. He turns to give one more pleading look at Ekel, who sits in his truck, still idling by the curb. Eskel grins widely at him and gives a double thumbs up.
Geralt rolls his eyes. What a loser.
He turns and enters the bar.
Immediately inside, a young man offers him a smile and offers a stamp as Geralt holds out his hand. On his hand, there is now a small inked tortoise.
The crowd doesn't part easily, so Geralt is forced to shoulder his way through a little rougher than he would have liked. Eventually, though, he does make it to the bar and manages to order his drink before someone is ringing a bell for attention.
Geralt turns to watch as his drink is slid across the counter to his waiting hand. At the back of the large space is a stage, likely for live music. On the stage is a beautiful young woman with a microphone in her hand, smiling as she waits for the crowd to quiet.
"Hello everyone, and welcome to Aesop's Tables monthly speed dating event! I'm Triss, and I'll be your matchmaker this evening." Here, she makes an exaggerated bow while a good portion of the crowd, who are obviously familiar with her, begins to sing a song that Geralt vaguely recognizes as coming from an old movie.
"For any newcomers we may have, I'll explain the process. Anyone who has a tortoise stamp on their hand will sit at a table, and stay there until the event ends. Anyone with a hare stamp will move from table to table. If you look on the floor, hares, you'll notice there are tape arrows pointing directions from table to table. Follow the arrows so we can keep things moving smoothly. Now, each meet will take place in three minutes. In that time, you'll do the best you can to have a conversation with your current partner."
Triss smiles apologetically. "I know it's not a lot of time to get to know someone, but we've got a lot of people looking for a connection, so just do the best you can. At the end of each date, make a note on the paper you'll be provided on if you'd like to see that person again. At the end of the event, we'll take your papers and see who matches up! Now, at the sound of the bell, take your positions!"
Geralt looks around the bar, agitated. He's really beginning to regret walking in here. But Triss rings her bell, and grudgingly Geralt makes his way toward an empty table.
Once all the 'tortoises' are seated, Triss rings her bell once again, and the 'hares' take their seats.
Geralt already knows his first date is not going to go well. The woman who sits before him is beautiful, no doubt, but there's something in her air that reminds him of Yennefer. Not that that's a bad thing in and of itself. But this woman who sits before him looks at him and sees only what he can give her.
But still, he does his best with the three minutes he has. The conversation, as expected, goes nowhere.
"So, what do you do for a living?" she asks.
"Mechanic," Geralt mutters in turn, trying hard to remember that making eye contact is polite in this sort of situation. "I own a garage, and my brothers and I all work there."
"Hm," she replies, and Geralt barely holds back a snort, thinking That's my line.
"And you?" he asks.
"I'm a lawyer down at Aedirn and Sons-" Before she even finishes, Geralt flinches. That's where - Of course this woman reminds him of Yennefer. They work together. Gods, what are the chances?
Geralt tries desperately to recover, knowing that there's maybe only a minute left in their date, and he won't have to see her again. But she had noticed his reaction.
"This won't work, will it," she states.
Geralt shakes his head mutely.
The two sit together quietly until the minute is up, and then she's gone.
The next few dates don't go well either, and by the time the event is halfway through, there's only one name Geralt has written down, and that one a huge maybe.
Triss rings her bell once more, and immediately a young man with brilliant blue eyes sits before him. Geralt nearly loses his breath.
The young man is nothing short of beautiful. Certainly no older than 25, if his youthful appearance and dress style are anything to go by. His brown fringe falls in his face as he leans forward, eyes sparkling, to look Geralt in the eye and smile.
"Well, aren't you gorgeous," are the first words out of the young man's mouth, and Geralt loses his breath once more. A melodious voice to pair with an artful appearance. Gods, he's fucked.
"I- Hmm," he stutters. "Y-you too?"
"Why, thank you, darling," the young man says, his eyes laughing. "Let's get all the relevant stuff out of the way, hm? I'm Jaskier, I'm 24, and I'm in school to become a music teacher. You?"
"Um. . ." 24? Gods, he really is young. He might just up and leave when he learns more about Geralt. What would a young, pretty thing like him do with an old geezer like Geralt?
"Geralt," he finally forces out, teeth gritted. "39, I own an auto repair shop with my brothers."
Jaskier. . . doesn't look put off? In fact, he looks rather delighted. "You've got brothers? Whom you're close enough with to own a business?"
Geralt blinks. Definitely not the route he'd expected.
"Yes?"
Jaskier sighs, almost wistfully. "I've always wanted to be close with my own siblings like that, but alas, my family is mostly estranged from each other."
For a moment, Geralt doesn't know what to say. Jaskier looks a little sad, a little thoughtful. Then, "I'm sorry. Being close with your family is one of the most wonderful things a person can have in their life. You always have support, no matter what, no matter where you are. It's. . . nice."
Jaskier smiles at him. "I'm glad for you, darling. Although, I am sorry to bring up matters of family problems on our first date."
Geralt shakes his head. "I don't mind. I went through a bad break up recently, and my family has had to be there for me a lot recently. I think I've taken them for granted."
"They sound wonderful, Geralt," Jaskier says, hand reaching tentatively across the gap between them to take Geralt's. And Geralt lets him. "And if they are as wonderful as they sound, I doubt they mind taking care of you when you're struggling."
Geralt laughs, for the first time this evening, he realizes. "My brother Eskel doesn't, anyway. He's the reason I'm here. He told me I need to stop wallowing and move on."
Jaskier laughs as well. "I'm afraid I'm in a rather similar situation. My friend, Essi, though she may as well be my sister, kicked me in the ass to get me to come out here. She said I should stop fretting about the past and get a life."
"Sounds like you've got a pretty okay family yourself, then," Geralt murmurs. "They don't have to be blood to be family."
Jaskier hesitates a single moment before a large, bright smile blooms across his face.
He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Triss rings her bell. Both men toss an irritated glance in her general direction. But then Jaskier looks back at him and winks, before taking his pen and writing Geralt's name at the top of his list in exaggeratedly large letters.
Geralt smiles and writes Jaskier's name down as well.
Jaskier stands and comes around the table, leaning down to kiss Geralt gently on the cheek. "See you later, darling," he whispers, before moving to the next table.
Maybe Eskel was right, Geralt thinks. Maybe there is hope for the future.