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“Come on, Ren,” Jaskier drawled, his words slurred and his cheeks red from the wine. “It’s Christmas and we never see each other anymore! I want a hug!”
Renfri rolled her eyes at her brother, hiding her smile as he pouted. He was a mess. His shirt looked like it had never seen a button in its life but Renfri was used to the idiot’s lack of shame. Over the years she’d seen far more of her little brother than she ever needed to, which was sort of endearing when they’d been kids and Jaskier had refused to wear clothes. She’d even found it funny. Their parents had been furious and that was good enough for her. As she grew older… well, it was gross. At least now he at least attempted to put a shirt on, until he got drunk.
They couldn’t be more different really. Jaskier was creative, musically-gifted and all things arts. Renfri was incredibly athletic, and she was lucky if she knew which way up to hold a paint brush, let alone the violin their parents had tried to force on her before donating it to Jaskier instead. Where he was all fluff and cuddles, Renfri was sharp edges and cold like ice.
Or at least that was what she liked people to think.
Jaskier used to joke that the only thing they had in common was that they were both gayer than a drag queen in Soho, which wasn’t entirely accurate but… he did have a point. They also had similar tastes in partners. In fact, Geralt had been Renfri’s boyfriend long before he’d started going out with Jaskier. When Renfri had dumped Geralt, he’d found Yennefer, and within a year Renfri was dating Yennefer whilst Jaskier was head over heels for her ex.
It was all a bit of a mess, but they’d seemed to have finally all found the person they were meant to be with. It just made Christmas a little awkward with two sets of exes around, even if they were all friends.
Not that it was Christmas.
“It’s November, you drunk idiot.”
“Close enough, now hug me!” Jaskier declared as he threw himself into her lap. Renfri caught the bastard on instinct but went hurtling back to her girlfriend and the three of them tumbled to the floor, trapped under the weight of her brother. “Get off of me!” She shrieked.
“Nope!”
“I’ll lick you!”
“Don’t lick him, Ren,” Yennefer sighed, lacing their fingers together and pressing her face into Renfri’s neck. “We don’t know where he’s been.”
“Oh I’ll tell you where I’ve been, mostly up Ge-”
“Shut up!” Renfri cried, swatting his arm until he stopped trying to go into the details of his sex life.
They stayed piled up on the floor until Geralt returned from the kitchen. He froze in the middle of the room, a bowl of popcorn in his hand whilst he stared at the three of them.
“What the fuck, Jaskier?”