Work Text:
“I don’t age, Jaskier. I just keep living until I slip up and I get killed.” He stared above Jaskier’s head, unable or unwilling to meet the stubborn gaze of his bard. “But humans decay, you wither and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone who you l-” His voice caught, and he snapped his mouth shut, teeth grinding together defiantly.
“What, Geralt?” Jaskier spoke softly, willing Geralt to say it, just once.
“You can spend the rest of your life with me. But I can’t spend the rest of mine with you.” And that was just it, wasn’t it? Jaskier was willing to spend his life with Geralt, but the witcher wouldn’t watch him die. He had lost so much, so many. But nothing would hurt as badly as watching his songbird slip away right before his eyes, unable to stop it, unable to save him.
“I don’t want the rest of your life, dear heart. I just want you, for as long as you’ll have me.” Jaskier spoke softer still, reaching to cup Geralt’s jaw. The witcher flinched away, taking a step back.
“I won’t. I won’t have you. I don’t want you, not if it means watching you die.” He ignored the hurt in his friend's eyes, reaching past him to open his bedroom door. “You should go, and come spring, I think it would be best for us to part ways. Indefinitely.” He turned from the open door, the dismissal couldn't have been clearer.
It’s a good thing the bard had never been good at taking hints.
“You are, without a doubt, the most self-absorbed, stupid, foolish man in the history of the continent, Geralt!” He slammed the door closed once again, grabbing the witcher’s arm and forcing him to turn back around.
“Jask, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is-” Geralt stared, voice weary.
“No. No, Geralt. You listen to me when I’m fucking talking to you.” He commanded, placing his hands on his hips, glaring at the other man. “How old do you think I am? Hmm? Look at me, and think long and hard about your answer, witcher. ” His eyes were narrowed and fury rolled off of him so strongly that Geralt could almost taste it.
“I- This has nothing to do with that, Jaskier. I don’t care how many years you have left! What, you’ll be dead in 70 years? That is the blink of an eye for a witcher!” He said, voice turning up into a shout the longer he spoke.
“Oh, spare me the dramatics, you oblivious idiot!” Jaskier shouted back, moving into Geralt’s space. “I have been travelling with you for twenty years, you absolute fool! I was already twenty when we met in Posada! Tell me, have I aged a day in those twenty years? Do I look forty to you?!” He gestures to his remarkably unmarred face, not a wrinkle or blemish in sight.
Geralt studied him for a moment, a frown etched upon his face.
“I don’t understand.” He muttered, his hands coming up to hold Jaskier’s face as he peered down at the bard.
“I am not human, Geralt. I will not decay or wither or die in your arms. Probably. Can’t guarantee that last one, I’m not completely immortal.” He continued, oblivious to the fact that Geralt’s entire life had just been upturned. “I mean. I can still die. Sword in the chest, poison, arrow to the skull… I’m still pretty m-” He was cut off by a pair of chapped lips against his, and he melted into the kiss, arms wrapping around Geralt’s waist to pull him closer.
They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in one another, kissing until they were breathless, forced to part for a moment. Though they didn’t move far, a millimetre, if that, between their faces.
“So, not human then.” Geralt murmured, causing Jaskier to huff.
“Decidedly not, darling.” He said, releasing Geralt’s tunic with one hand, moving up to brush his fingers through the witcher’s hair.
“So… what are you? My medallion-” He was cut off by Jaskier pulling him in for another kiss, this one much quicker, less desperate.
“Your medallion is child’s play to my kind, witcher.” He grinned at the disgruntled noise that earned him, “If you must know, I am part fae. Well. Part is probably an understatement.” He conceded, pondering for a moment. “The fae queen is my mother. My father is human, Lord Alfred Pankratz of Lettenhove.” He explained, watching for any negative reaction.
Geralt swallowed thickly, mind reeling.
“If you still want me to leave, I can. I know witchers and the fae don’t typically get along. You don’t- You hunt monsters, not take them to bed.” Despite the humour he tried to emulate, his eyes flittered around nervously, and he pulled back slightly from Geralt’s grip.
“Jaskier, you are no monster.” Geralt spoke quietly, pulling Jaskier back towards him. “And, if you would like to stay, it would be my pleasure and my honour to have you in my bed.” He smirked at Jaskier’s indignant squawk, cutting off the bard’s inevitable ramblings with another kiss.
There would surely be more conversations to come in the future, but both bard and witcher were content to lose themselves in one another for one night, the rest of the world could wait until tomorrow.