Work Text:
Jaskier pressed the buttons automatically. His head was swimming alongside his stomach, and he just knew that if he had to concentrate too hard on the little numbers that he was going to ruin his nice new carpet. So he dialed up Shani without thinking too hard. Hopefully she would be able to tell him what-
The phone clicked as it picked up, so Jaskier spoke first.
"I need-" Jaskier took a breath to try and speak without mumbling. "Don't feel so good."
"Jaskier?" And the voice on the other end... was not Shani. No, that gruff tone was all Geralt. "Why did you call-? Don't feel good?"
"You sound weird," Jaskier informed him. Because while the surprise was unusual, the uncertain tinge to Geralt's voice was even more so. All Jaskier got was a grunt. When he was feeling particularly bitter and lonely, he'd say it was all he'd ever gotten out of his ex. "I'm home."
"Alone?"
"All the time now," Jaskier answered honestly.
"Jaskier, listen to me." Uh-oh, Geralt was using his 'you're in danger' tone. "You need to sit down, and stay awake. Okay? I'll bring Shani over."
"Uh. Okay." Convenient.
"Repeat what I said."
"Sit. Stay awake. Shani."
"Good." And the phone clicked again, the dial tone following.
The room started to spin, so Jaskier put the phone back in the cradle, stumbling over to his couch. Sit. He needed to sit.
He did manage to put himself on the furniture. The abrupt change in height also pushed on his stomach, causing exactly what he'd been worried about--he ejected sick directly onto his floor. Luckily, it didn't last long. Unluckily, Jaskier was far too tired to do more than let himself slip sideways on the couch, head on one of the large, blue and pink flower-patterned pillows. He admonished himself to stay awake, then let his eyes rest.
0-o-0
Geralt marched his way through the decorative plants separating him from Jaskier's small house, not paying much attention to Shani's cursing as he called behind, "With me, hurry."
Even though they'd not been together for a year, Geralt remembered Jaskier's way of speaking intimately. He knew he'd be able to pick his voice out from a crowd, not a single verbal tick forgotten, as if they'd spoken every day the whole time they'd been separated. Granted, they had known each other for years before they'd actually tried dating.
Geralt winced, both at the reminder of the close relationship he'd lost and the front door already being unlocked. Jaskier was either too damn trusting (still) or so bad off he'd forgotten to lock it behind himself.
Either way, Geralt just checked to make sure Shani was behind him--and yes there she was with face flushed, but expression serious as she held her personal medical bag. Geralt led the way.
The familiarity of the house was almost overwhelming; Geralt had a task though, and his focus did not stray from finding his sick friend lover ex.
His heart dropped, all air seeming to leave him at once, when he saw Jaskier's still form on the couch of the living room. Shani, bless her and her career and her blunt personality, kept moving past Geralt with no hesitation. Only once she'd started checking Jaskier over, but for the normal sorts of things like temperature, did Geralt breathe again. He was alive. Of course he was. Probably just a cold. or something.
With nothing else to do, Geralt set about taking care of all the things Jaskier would be currently unable to.
0-o-0
Jaskier loved waking to hands in his hair. It was better when there were arms wrapped around him too, but he still appreciated the way fingers brushed hair gently from his forehead, carded gently through his locks without catching any knots, and applied gentle pressure to his scalp where they occasionally paused, just to hold his head.
Geralt was very good at it, as Jaskier well knew.
Geralt was also... not living with him anymore.
Yet when Jaskier blinked his eyes open, feeling incredibly heavy, sore, and not little amount hot and sweaty, there Geralt sat.
Jaskier was in his own bedroom, easily recognized, and he was wearing soft sleep clothes--though he didn't remember putting them on. Geralt shouldn't have been there, but he sat at Jaskier's bedside as if he'd never left. His eyebrows were scrunched in worry.
"Are you awake?"
Jaskier nodded, feeling a cough trying to make its way up his throat. With gentle hands--just as Jaskier wished for remembered--Geralt maneuvered Jaskier to a propped up sitting position.
"You should try to eat something before you sleep again." Geralt reached over to grab a tray from his dresser and place it on the bed's nightstand. "Shani said you should recover fine but that you'll need energy. She also wasn't going to prescribe anti-virals unless you asked."
Jaskier's head felt like it was swimming again, though this time more in confusion than nausea. "What?"
"Influenza. Here, hydrate."
Geralt tipped a cup of hot but not burning liquid to his lips, and Jaskier drank automatically. It tasted mostly like water, but with a hint of sweet honey and ginger. For his throat and his stomach. Jaskier almost wanted to cry. Through a combination of sheer force of will and exhaustion, he didn't. He just drank down half the cup, slowly, before Geralt pulled it away.
"Good. How's your stomach?"
"...Fine? Geralt-"
"Are you going to throw up?"
Jaskier closed his mouth and shook his head. He hadn't been sure exactly what he wanted to ask anyway.
Geralt, despite his occasional fidgets and the way his eyes would flicker away if Jaskier looked into them directly, was a thorough nursemaid. He helped Jaskier through a small bowl of chicken noodle soup, a few saltine crackers, and the rest of the not-quite-tea. When Jaskier coughed, Geralt held his shoulder. And when Jaskier drooped after using his small store of energy, Geralt helped him lay down.
Part way to sleep already, Jaskier leaned into the hand on his forehead, sighing when it was replaced with a cool, damp washcloth.
"I've missed you," Jaskier whispered.
He hadn't forgotten this side of Geralt. Somehow, between all the family drama which had popped up for them both, it just seemed like they had lost sight of each other. Assumed things, or said them in ways they couldn't take back.
But despite the break, despite the gigs Jaskier had gotten, touring around and becoming more known for his music, Jaskier had still missed Geralt. Missed hearing sly puns to lift his spirits, contrasting the more upbeat congratulations his coworkers offered. Missed his intense sincerity. Missed his quiet comfort.
"Missed you too, Jask," Geralt whispered. Even with eyes closed, Jaskier recognized the shake in his voice. "You really scared me."
"Sorry."
"Just rest. Get better."
Jaskier thought of Geralt for a time; He thought of maybe talking out what they hadn't before. He thought of Geralt maybe, possibly, regretting how they'd acted to each other as much as Jaskier did. When the soothing hand came back to play with his hair, Jaskier managed to sink into a more restful sleep.