Work Text:
Jaskier closed the door carefully, silently, as he entered the apartment.
It was barely 10 pm. A year ago this was about the time he would be leaving for a night of music and revelry, to come home in the wee hours of the morning drunk and singing and full of energy still.
But that was before them.
Jaskier set his things on the couch and made his way down the hall, scuffing his feet against the linoleum so as not to startle the broad shouldered man standing in the doorway of Ciri's room.
He pressed himself against Geralt's back, resting his chin on the other man's shoulder to look inside.
"She wanted to stay awake until you got home," Geralt murmured. "Made a good effort of it in fact."
"Did she," Jaskier said softly. In the shadowed room a tiny blonde haired little girl was starfished across her bed with a squishmallow in her arms and a plush wolf standing guard on the abandoned pillow.
Geralt hummed before turning and holding out his arms.
Jaskier fell into the embrace happily, letting the other man take his weight. Geralt's hands were warm and sure on his back, slowly pressing away the aches and pains of long days travel.
When Geralt let him go Jaskier felt more settled in his body than he had since he first left their little apartment a week ago. It had been a short tour and when he was younger he would already be itching to go back out on the road but he was feeling his years more and more.
He walked into the room and gently pressed a kiss to Ciri's forehead before pulling the light blue blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it over her.
She grumbled at him, too much like her father, but did not wake up.
Geralt had moved into the kitchen and Jaskier went to join him, was greeted with a mug of tea and the sugar bowl.
One spoon, then two. Then a third.
Geralt huffed.
"Don't you judge me," Jaskier said, taking a sip of the steaming hot cup. "I'm absolutely exhausted."
Geralt hummed and turned back to face the sink. Jaskier let himself relax into the comforting sound of dishwashing.
Half an hour later the tea was gone and the cup had joined the rest of the dishes in the rack to dry.
Jaskier watched Geralt walk around the counter and stand in front of him. He had been dozing lightly in his seat but now when it was time to actually go to sleep he didn't want to get up.
"Come on," Geralt rumbled.
Jaskier shook his head and leaned forward raising his arms. He felt the soft heated breath of a laugh against his neck before he was lifted and slung gently over Geralt's shoulder.
He was gently deposited on the bed and lying there seeing Geralt stand over him, the other man's white blond hair limned golden by the bedside lamp made something in Jaskier's chest bloom.
When Geralt got into the bed Jaskier let himself roll towards the dip in the mattress and he slid into sleep pressed against the warm bulk of his beloved.
Jaskier's morning started at half noon and he let himself wake up slowly, luxuriating in time and home and his own bed.
He could hear Geralt's low murmur from the living room punctuated by Ciri's shrill giggles. Both sounds got closer and Jaskier grinned before pressing his face back into his pillow and letting out several harsh snores.
"Oh no, he's asleep," Geralt said flatly. "I guess we will have to eat his pancakes."
Ciri giggled again. "Nooooo, they're special. We have to save them."
"I'm not sure," Geralt said. "If they get cold they will go to waste. If only there was some way we could wake him up."
Jaskier braced himself as roughly thirty-seven pounds of knee and elbow made their way up his body.
"Jaskier," Ciri shouted almost directly into his ear. "Jaskier you have to wake up and eat pancakes!"
Jaskier rolled over quickly, gathering Ciri in his arms. "Ah-hah, I have you," he growled. "I don't need pancakes, I will just eat you up!"
He pressed his face into her neck and blew a raspberry. Her screaming laughter was almost painful but worth it.
"Jaskier, stoooopppp," she spit into his face, grinning.
He released her, sitting up in the bed and settling her beside him on the mattress. Geralt was still standing by the door, well out of range of spit or screams, holding a plate piled high with pancakes in one hand and a steaming mug in the other.
"Geralt," Jaskier cried out. "I can't believe you won't give me my pancakes. I'm absolutely starving."
Ciri laughed as Jaskier stretched his hands out towards his boyfriend.
Geralt quirked his lip in an almost invisible smile before stepping forward.
"I didn't have to bring you breakfast in bed, you know. You could have come to the table."
Jaskier took the mug first, lifting it to his face for a deep breath. It was likely too hot to drink, it always was, but the smell did half the work of waking him up anyway.
Setting his coffee aside on the small table by the bed, gently using it to nudge his phone and reading glasses out of the way, Jaskier leaned back against the pillows.
"Very well," he said, sending Geralt a quick wink, "You may serve me."
From the corner of his eye Jaskier saw Ciri mirror his movement, folding her arms beneath her head the same way he did.
Across the room Geralt sighed. "Okay, then," he said and turned to walk out of the room."
Jaskier pushed himself upright. "Oh, come on. I don't get breakfast in bed anymore?"
Geralt's voice came down the hall. "You're lucky to get breakfast all."
Jaskier slumped forward. He felt Ciri's little hand pat his back.
"There, there. -it's okay."
"You're so sweet, Princess." Jaskier leaned over and swept the little girl into his arms before shuffling to the side of the bed and getting to his feet.
He held Ciri on his hip and walked out into the hall. "If breakfast won't come to us, we have to go to breakfast, I suppose."
"I had breakfast. It's lunchtime already. And-- and music time."
Jaskier gasped. "It's music time? Did I forget? Oh, shame on me."
He pressed his free hand to his forehead and let out a fake sob.
Ciri pressed a syrup sticky kiss to his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. "That's okay."
Geralt was sitting in his chair at the table, the plate of pancakes by Jaskier's usual seat, and a small bowl of grapes waiting beside it.
"I expected you to move faster than this," Geralt said. "You must be getting old."
"Ha. Ha," Jaskier replied, sitting down and settling Ciri on his lap. He nudged the grapes towards her while he began to cut onto his pancakes one-handed.
The time passed slow and sweet. Jaskier ate his pancakes and a few grapes Ciri offered, Geralt had gone to the bedroom for his abandoned coffee, now lukewarm.
They talked about their separate weeks. School for Ciri, work for Geralt, the tour for Jaskier.
It was lovely.
When all the dishes were empty Geralt lifted Ciri off of Jaskier's lap. "I'll go wash her hands if you want to get the guitar ready?"
Jaskier nodded and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
He cleared the table quickly, dropping the dishes in the sink and wiping up crumbs and bits of mashed grape before making his way to the living room.
Jaskier's working guitar was still in its case. He had checked the tuning before his show the previous night but ran through the strings anyway, adjusting where he needed to.
The teaching guitar was on a stand in the corner where he could access it for his students that didn't have own one. It was a bit worn but it still played sweetly.
"I tuned it yesterday," Geralt said, coming back into the room on Ciri's heels.
She jumped onto the couch and stretched her hands out. "Music!"
Jaskier laughed. "You're going to play by yourself today?"
Ciri nodded fiercely and Jaskier held out the guitar.
"Not so fast, princess. You know the test."
Ciri grumbled but got on her feet, turning to face the wall. Jaskier held the guitar beside her. "Hm... still a bit too short I'm afraid. We'll need your lovely assistant."
Ciri flexed her leg as if she were going to stomp her foot before a low grumbling cough from Geralt interrupted her. She gave out a gusty sigh almost too big for her body and turned around.
"Okay," she muttered, begrudgingly. She looked up at Geralt, "But you don't do too much. This is my -- my music."
She nodded firmly and Geralt did the same. Jaskier echoed the motion when she looked to him.
Everything being decided Jaskier took a moment to run through the tuning of the teaching guitar again while Geralt and Ciri got settled.
He had been teaching Ciri for a few weeks and they had the routine down. Geralt would sit down first, then Ciri would clamber into his lap. After a few minutes of fidgeting and adjusting the little girl would declare that she was ready. At which point Jaskier would hand the guitar over.
To Geralt.
His job was officially just to hold the guitar but as Ciri, while pretty advanced for a four year old, couldn't quite reach everything and her manual dexterity was still under development Geralt's role had expanded to include 'chord presser' and 'string strummer.'
So in essence Jaskier was teaching two people.
Jaskier watched them get settled, Ciri's arms draped over the top of the instrument, barely brushing the strings while Geralt arranged one hand over the frets and the other next to Ciri's on the body of the guitar.
Two sets of warm amber eyes settled on him as he took his own seat on the coffee table.
Jaskier had never thought about children, about fatherhood. If he had he supposed not having much of a father meant he would likely not be very good at it himself and his general proclivities made any accidental offspring highly unlikely so it wasn't a consideration.
Then he met Geralt. And Ciri almost immediately after.
And neighbors became friends who became more. It was a family. Jaskier had a family.
He could still remember the terror he felt the first time Geralt trusted him alone with Ciri. What should have been a late lunch and movie date on the couch turned into Geralt having to run out to a meeting and leaving Jaskier in charge.
Jaskier had never been in charge of anything in his life. He had certainly never taken care of a toddler before.
He had spent a lot of time together with her but Geralt had always been there as sort of a buffer, someone Jaskier could look to and confirm that he was doing all right, that he hadn't sworn or scared her or offended either of them.
It would be just the two of them, for the first time.
They ate lunch.
They watched a movie.
Geralt still wasn't home.
Jaskier knew Ciri took naps. All children took naps, it was the only thing he envied about their lives.
So Jaskier took her to her room and put her to bed. He read her a story. He sang her a song. He made up a brief play using her stuffed animals lauding the benefits of afternoon naps.
And when she was asleep Jaskier followed his own advice and stretched out on the couch.
He was woken up in a flurry by a dull metallic thud and an ominous weight into the air telling him something was wrong.
Jaskier lurched up from the couch to see Ciri standing over his guitar. One of the strings had snapped and there was a thin line on her baby pale cheek that was slowly starting to bleed.
There was one heavy moment of silence before Ciri wailed and threw herself into Jaskier's arms.
Jaskier still felt the faint pain in his chest at seeing her hurt. At the time he had cleaned the cut and soothed her as best as he could but they were both glad to see Geralt come home an hour later.
In the end Ciri had been braver than Jaskier. Where he was ready to store his instruments locked up and hidden away and loathe to be alone with the little girl in case she got hurt again Ciri was fascinated by the guitar and the noise Jaskier was able to get out of it.
After the third or fourth time Ciri had somehow managed to find his guitar where it was hidden and slap out discordant notes Geralt finally insisted that Jaskier teach her. That he would be there as well to help and to supervise with complete faith in Jaskier's abilities and a first aid kit at hand if necessary.
And so their lessons began.
Jaskier started as he heard a full strum opposite him. He looked up and saw Geralt gazing down at Ciri as she brushed her fingers over the strings.
The little girl hummed tunelessly as she plucked at the strings. The sound was soft, almost weak, but deliberate.
Jaskier had never taught a four year old before, his youngest clients had at least been in their double digits, so he had no idea what to expect.
In this, as in so many things, she surprised him. As stubborn as her father, her mother too Geralt reported, and meticulous in everything she did. She was learning the guitar.
She couldn't reach the frets or most of the strings but she had memorized their names and what they should sound like, going so far as to critique Gerelt when he had them wrong.
If anything his boyfriend was the poorer student, not from lack of effort so much as lack of interest. Jaskier never expected he would fall in love with a man who didn't really care for music but here he was, fully besotted.
He walked the two of them through a review of the chords they had already covered, Ciri yelling the names as Jaskier did and strumming the strings she could reach. Geralt strummed alongside her, giving the sound an oddly echoed effect Jaskier had gotten used to.
"Daddy," Ciri said. "You have to bend your pinky more. Make it more. Like this." She held up her pudgy hand, fingers loosely curled into an F chord.
Geralt hummed in reply, adjusting his hand as directed.
"No, daddy," Ciri said, her voice inching into a whine. "More like this. Do it good."
Jaskier leaned forward and laid his hand on top of Geralt's before looking at Ciri. "Hey, princess. We don't say that do we?"
The little girl shrugged. "He did my music bad," she said, looking up at Jaskier. "I want good music. Like you."
"No. Come on, what do we say?"
She sighed. "Lessons are for learning and as long as we try then we are doing music good."
"Thank you, Ciri. And what else do we say," Jaskier said, looking to Geralt.
Ciri leaned back against her father's chest. "I'm sorry, daddy. You're trying and you do music good sometimes."
Jaskier looked up to meet Geralt's eyes. The other man was smiling but his voice was even as he said, "Thank you, Ciri. I appreciate that."
The little girl leaned up and pressed a kiss against Geralt's cheek.
"Very nice, Ciri. Are you ready to try again?"
She nodded and reached towards the guitar again. Jaskier nodded at Geralt before putting his own hands into position for the first chord.
"Okay, let's go. We're gonna start with a C." Jaskier began to strum slowly, singing along as he went. "If you're happy and you know it play a -G-, if you're happy and you know it play a -C -. Now -F-." Geralt made the transition smoothly and Ciri grinned. "If you're happy and you know it then you -C- really want to show it. -G- if you're happy and you know it -C- clap your hands."
When they reached the end of verse Jaskier put his guitar down and began to applaud. "Bravo! Bravo! Amazing! Musical genius here!"
Ciri threw her arms in the air giggling as Geralt gently moved their guitar to the side. Once she had a clear path Ciri lunged off of the couch and towards Jaskier.
He caught her and lifted her onto the air. "Did you see that, Geralt? Our daughter is a genius!"
Jaskier turned to face the couch and saw Geralt was sitting in his same spot, a small smile on his face. "Yeah," he said softly. "Our girl is pretty special."
"Again," Ciri shouted. "More music!"
"More music," Jaskier echoed, laughing. "Always more music!"
Geralt sighed, then laughed softly. "More music."