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Geralt knew you were trouble. Well, you and Jaskier. Alone, you were both fine. He enjoyed your company, but together? It was sometimes far too much for the witcher. You and the bard got along like wildfire, in the most chaotic and destructive ways.
As much as he wouldn’t like to admit it, he loved seeing the two of you together. He felt like he should be jealous. You were his partner, and there you were practically flirting with another man. But he wasn’t, it was the opposite, actually. His heart swelled when he watched the two of you.
What he was feeling, was guilt. Guilt that he was looking at Jaskier in a way that he should only be viewing you. All the feelings for you were still there, stronger than ever, but he grew to realize that there was more than enough room for both of you in his heart.
Geralt wrestled with his feelings, he thought it would be easier. When you started courting him you had opened him up and taught him how to navigate his emotions. You were always there to help him, enthusiastically too, but he couldn’t come to you with this. He didn’t want to hurt you. He didn’t want this to end. Even worse, he didn’t want this to end badly and to lose you as a friend.
It was well past midnight when Geralt got back to the inn. His hunt, though long, went well. He entered your room as quietly as he could, careful not to wake you. It didn’t matter, though, as within seconds he heard you sniffle. He quickly changed and crawled into bed beside you.
“Hey, love. What’s wrong?”
You sniffled once more, wiping the remnants of the tears from your eyes before turning over.
“Nothing.”
He didn’t even have to say anything, his hard stare was enough to get more out of you.
“I just don’t want to talk about it, Geralt.”
“Can’t talk about it or cant’ talk about it with me?”
“Geralt, don’t do that.”
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Anything? You won’t get mad?”
You pulled yourself into a sitting position, Geralt did the same while cupping your hands in his. The tears you had previously gotten rid of returned, against your will. Now, he held your cheek, letting you cry into his hand.
“I don’t think that you could ever make me mad, y/n.” He smiled, “Maybe sad, but there is nothing we can’t get through. Even if it hurts, we’ll make it. What’s going on, love?”
It took you a minute to calm down enough to speak, but you still couldn’t look into his eyes.
“I love you, Geralt. I need you to know that, forever and always, I will love you.” He returned the sentiment,and it gave you the boost you needed to finish. “The happiness that you make me feel is unmatched, but there is another piece that I need, too. And I don’t feel whole when that piece isn’t around.”
“Y/n, what are you trying to say.”
“I love Jaskier, too. I don’t know why, it’s not that I don’t think you enough because you are. It’s just-”
Before he could restrain himself and let you finish, he blurted out, “I do too. Love him, I mean. I understand.”
For a moment, the two of you just stared. Partially to process what had just been confessed, but also out of sheer adoration. Even with this, you two were on the same page.
Problems started to arise the next morning. You and Geralt met Jaskier down in the tavern before setting out. Both of you were noticeably, and equally flustered. Jaskier really didn’t know what to make of it, so he left to attach his bag to Roach.
He did this everytime you left someplace. Geralt never let him put his bag on Roach, mostly to be petty at this point. But today, he let him. It did not go unnoticed by either you or Jaskier, but neither of you said anything.
The walk to the next town was quiet, far too quiet. Aside from the gentle strumming of Jaskier’s lute, no other noises were heard. Glances were shared between you and Geralt, but neither of you spoke.
That night, the bard had fallen asleep early, still clutching his lute. You lover glanced adoringly at his sleeping form before turning back to you, who was equally enamoured.
“Are we going to tell him?” His gruff voice was almost too low to understand, but you were merely inches away so you heard him fine.
“Do you want to?”
“I think we should. Something tells me that even if he’s not interested we’ll be fine.”
“He’s like that.” You laugh into his chest before turning you attention back to the sleeping bard.
That night you spent another hour talking before dozing off. Sleep was pleasant, which was uncommon. But now that you’d discussed the matter that was haunting you, you felt a little more at peace.
As always, Geralt woke up first. Then you, and then Jaskier. It was like clockwork. Today was no different, you opened your eyes to your witcher who was sat on a log tightening his armor.
Jaskier woke moments later, hair sticking every which way and sleep still clinging onto him. After rubbing his eye he grinned at the two of you.
“You guys aren’t as quiet as you think you are. And Geralt, a witcher, really? I’m thoroughly disappointed in you. Stealthy my ass.” You started to speak but he held up a finger, “You, on the other hand, need to learn how to whisper, my dear.” He waved his hand as permission for either of you to speak, instead, you just looked at each other, dumbfounded.
“You mean you heard…that?” Geralt was so soft spoken it was almost frightening.
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
“You aren’t mad?”
“The two of you are so fucking thick. I’ve been flirting with both of you for weeks now. Geniuses.”
So this is how it’s going to be? Perfect.