Okay, hear me out (Jaskier and Geralt)

[breadpants]

Jaskier stared down at the beautiful calligraphy scrawled across the parchment in his hand as though he could change what it said through sheer force of will. He couldn't.

Well, shit. was his first thought, followed immediately by several other, equally profanity-laden reactions, none of which felt like they entirely did the job of expressing how he was feeling in that specific moment.

It wasn't the parchment itself - an invitation to attend his cousin's impending nuptials - that was technically the problem, though it certainly evoked plenty of feelings of dread. No, the real problem was the letter that had accompanied it, a short but pointed note from his mother.

I have ensured your cousin make allowances for you to bring a guest, she had written so that we can perhaps finally meet the man that has kept you from accepting any other match I might have made for you.

Which is all very well and good, except the man didn't exist.

Well, okay, he did exist, in that whenever Jaskier had written to his mother explaining that he simply couldn't be set up because he was still seeing somebody, the somebody he had described had been Geralt. The problem was that Geralt was not now, nor had he ever been, Jaskier's somebody.

He dropped the paper on the table in front of him and slumped back in his chair, trying to summon the words to express to the world at large how he felt about this development.

"...well, shit." he sighed eventually. Sometimes you just had to go with your first reaction.

Comments

[doesntgetinvolved]

Geralt stomped up the stairs of the inn, heading for the room he had shared with Jaskier the night before. He'd left early in the morning, intent on taking up a contract for a monster that had killed two elderly people the week before.

He'd met with the victims' sons and after a very long, annoying, winding investigation that had taken most of his morning and made him search half the nearby forest, there had turned out to be no monster. Just human greed, the two sons teaming up to murder their own parents so they could sell their house and share the money. There had been enough proof to bring the alderman and the man had sent the guards at once, giving Geralt a fraction of the reward promised for the monster.

These contracts were Geralt's least favorite. He could deal with actual monsters well-enough -there was even a thrill to it, to the tracking, the hunting, and the slaying- but human monsters always left a bitter taste on his tongue.

He made his way to the room, not bothering to knock before he pushed the door open, finding Jaskier sitting at the small table with what seemed to be a letter. Jaskier looked... despondent. That wasn't entirely unusual, as while the bard was generally a fairly upbeat companion, he did tend to dramatically lament the smallest hurdle. Geralt had seen Jaskier bemoan a broken lute string or a hole in his favorite pair of boots quite extensively before. But it did seem to be more than that, from the way Jaskier sat with his shoulders hunched and a dejected look on his face. From where he stood, Geralt couldn't see what was written on the letter Jaskier was holding, but he could smell a very fancy perfume scent coming from the paper. A letter from a lover, perhaps?

He didn't ask as Jaskier turned towards him, but he acknowledged the situation with a pointed look as he unstrapped his swords and set them by the fireplace carefully. Jaskier wouldn't likely need more prompting than this to tell him what was wrong, Geralt knew.

[breadpants]

At first, it seemed like Jaskier might - uncharacteristically - actually need more prompting, because his reaction to Geralt's pointed look was not, immediately, to launch into a lengthy rant about the terrible fate that had befallen him. Instead, he looked kind of... panicked. As though Geralt could somehow sense the situation immediately before Jaskier had any chance to explain it to him.

After a moment he realised that wasn't the case, because how could Geralt possibly know, and instead he stared at the witcher for a long, thoughtful moment before finally speaking.

"Geralt..." he began in his very best flattering tones "You remember how I am your very best friend in the whole wide world?"

He knew it wasn't actually the best way to get Geralt to do something, but it at least was a good way of signalling to Geralt that something needed doing, and it was something Jaskier-related rather than monster related (the former being a more terrifying prospect for the witcher, he was sure), because suddenly Jaskier had a plan in front of him.

It was an obvious plan, really, the only possible plan, and Geralt would never agree to it but he had to at least try - because who better to live up to the man Jaskier had described than the very man himself?

[doesntgetinvolved]

Thankfully, Geralt was a patient man. Whatever it was that Jaskier was reluctant to tell him, he knew he could just wait it out. Or perhaps the bard wouldn't bring it up in the end, and Geralt would have to figure it out some other way. He had done it before. Jaskier was a good liar when he needed to be, but Geralt knew him too well to be fooled.

He didn't glance over to Jaskier when he spoke up, checking that his blades were just as sharp as they had been in the morning.

Jaskier's words drew a quiet huff from him. "So you keep saying," Geralt answered, his tone sounding a lot more irritated than he actually looked. He unstrapped his vambraces, making sure that the leather hadn't been damaged during his trek through the forest.

He stepped closer, giving Jaskier a look and then glancing pointedly at the strap on his back that held his armor tight. He could unclasp it on his own (a witcher who couldn't put on and remove his own armor was a dead witcher), but he'd hurt his shoulder killing a werewolf a few days before and it was easier to have Jaskier do it for him. A small favour, from his very best friend in the entire world.

[breadpants]

"Because it's true," Jaskier said cheerfully - these days he was mostly pleased that Geralt had stopped denying it, that was probably the closest to agreement he was ever going to get after all.

He happily reached up to start undoing the strap across Geralt's back - he knew the witcher could take his own armour off, he's seen him do it, but he wasn't about to grumble about having to help when he was trying to keep Geralt sweet. Or maybe it was just something to do with the sense of intimacy he got from helping the man out of his armour, there was a comfortable domesticity to it that Jaskier didn't dare speak out loud.

"I was wondering if you might attend my cousin's wedding with me?" he asked beseechingly, knowing from experience that getting straight to the point was usually preferable to Geralt, as much as he was tempted to try and sell him on it first. No, the selling would come later, when he got to the real ask. "Food, wine, music, my cousin is very flashy it's sure to be an excellent party... I won't even make you wear anything too awful..."

[doesntgetinvolved]

"Hmm," Geralt returned when Jaskier confirmed that he only called himself his best friend because he believed it to be true, making sure to keep the sound noncommittal. There was no point to fight on this with the bard, Geralt knew Jaskier was too stubborn on the matter to be easily swayed. Besides, he did not actually want to hurt his feelings.

He stayed still as Jaskier worked on his straps and buckles, waiting for him to get to the point. Jaskier's fingers were deft and quick to loosen the armor, allowing Geralt to shrug free from it and set it aside carefully.

He glanced back sharply at the question, his eyes narrowing as he immediately assumed that this was Jaskier asking for a bodyguard again, as he had last time. "Does your own family want to kill you?" he asked, sounding disbelieving. In truth, he wouldn't have put it past Jaskier to have caused quite the stir in Lettenhove, being a viscount who had all but renounced his title and shirked his duties, choosing to become a bard and be on the road instead. But for his own kin to want to kill him? "What'd you do?"

[breadpants]

Oh but it were that simple... and Jaskier should probably be concerned that he'd reached a point in his life where he'd rather have his family wanting to kill him than what was actually going on, but if Jaskier went around being concerned as often as he should he probably wouldn't be living the life he was now, and as much as he dove headfirst into terrible ideas all the time, they usually turned out... sort of okay.

"Nothing like that," he waved a hand to dismiss the suggestion and kind of wished he had more armour to undo, because suddenly said hands felt awkward and he didn't know what to do with them. "It's actually something far less dangerous. You won't have to fight anybody at all..."

He paused, realising he'd talked himself into a corner and now he had to come out with it, so he took a deep breath and then let it all out in one go, getting the words out as quickly as he could.

"Ineedyoutopretendtobemylover."

[doesntgetinvolved]

Geralt grunted when Jaskier dismissed his assumption, looking faintly relieved. Well, if he didn't have to fight anyone, he probably wouldn't mind going. Nobles were best taken in small doses in Geralt's opinion, but he hadn't actually been to a good banquet in a while. He could eat his fill of good food, drink, sleep in a nice bed. If all he had to do in return was keep an eye on Jaskier, he could handle that.

He paused as he noticed that Jaskier had grown suspiciously quiet now, looking at him quite anxiously. Fuck. There was more to it, then. He steeled himself for it, ready to tell Jaskier no if it got too outrageous for his liking.

Nothing could have prepared him to what Jaskier actually said next though and he reared back, surprise obvious on his face for once. "What the fuck, Jaskier," he growled, looking confused but not actually angry about the suggestion, his eyebrows furrowing. "Why?" he prompted, harshly. What explanation could Jaskier possibly have to want for Geralt to come as his lover?

[breadpants]

For some ridiculous reason Jaskier had actually been sort of hoping Geralt wouldn't ask why. He knew there was no way that would happen, Geralt wouldn't just do something just because Jaskier asked him to do it (well, he would, he had, but not without questioning it thoroughly), it was just that the reasoning for it was so horribly... obvious that he feared if he explained it Geralt would never speak to him again.

It's possible Geralt would never speak to him again after such a request anyway, but Jaskier also knew it was unfair of him to think that after everything they'd been through.

"The thing is," he started, clearing his throat awkwardly. "My mother is... well, you see, she's very... she's quite desperate for me to get married. She wants to set me up all the time, so in order to avoid that I.. may have told her I was already with somebody. Somebody who she now wishes to meet at this wedding."

And maybe he could leave it at that. Maybe Geralt would assume Jaskier was asking him because... because he was off-putting and people wouldn't ask too many questions, or because he cut a very impressive figure in general, or because Jaskier didn't have anybody else to ask.

sorry for the delay, last week was wild!

[doesntgetinvolved]

In truth, Geralt would indeed have done many things -sometimes foolish things- because Jaskier asked him to do them. But he would invariably question Jaskier's motives first, and make sure it wasn't actually going to get them both into more trouble than they had started with. That seemed to be a recurring theme, with Jaskier.

"Can't you just tell her to fuck off?" Geralt answered when Jaskier explained that his mother had been pestering him to marry. He glared, unimpressed at the fumbling justification.

"You want them to think that you've lost your damn mind?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing angrily. Geralt wasn't exactly the ideal son-in-law, after all. He was a man, which would be frowned upon if Jaskier was expected to produce an heir (if for no other reason), and a witcher, which made him possibly the worst candidate to play that role.

You're all good, sorry for the delay in return!

[breadpants]

"No, Geralt, I cannot just tell my mother to 'fuck off'." Jaskier retorted, exasperated - though he immediately felt a little guilty, it wasn't as though Geralt likely had much experience with the way in which mothers were simultaneously wonderful and infuriating (a lot like Geralt himself, actually), or any real frame of reference for how one just didn't say that kind of thing to one's mother, even if you thought it from time to time.

"That would probably put them off trying to set me up with anyone," he mused - only no, that wasn't the reason he had selected Geralt, and as much as he absolutely did not want to tell Geralt the real reason it had to be him, he also knew that it was going to come up the second some over-zealous relative decided to loudly proclaim that Geralt was just as you described, Julian.

"Alas, no, unfortunately I cannot ask anybody else to do it." he finally explains wretchedly "For you match the description."

let's be slow together then haha

[doesntgetinvolved]

Geralt merely gave an irritated grunt as Jaskier told him there would be no getting out of this, his jaw setting. He was going to agree, he already knew, just like he always did when Jaskier came to him with a ridiculous scheme. Perhaps it would be best to just get on with it and skip the whole argument.

Jaskier's answer caught his attention, however. "The description," Geralt repeated, slowly. He turned to look at Jaskier in the face, noting the embarrassment there. He was about to ask, to prod further into this, and then abruptly decided he didn't actually want to know the details. Whatever Jaskier had told his family to get them off his back, it probably hadn't been flattering.

"No pet names. No kissing," he warned harshly, after a beat of silence. Which meant that yes, he would do this.

so very slow... but I get there eventually!

[breadpants]

"Well, yes, because you see they do always say to write what you know and-" Jaskier launched into the explanation anyway because he was expecting to have to, and he was actually rather pleased with the little lie (or careful half-truth) that had popped into his head about Geralt being the closest inspiration because he was the only one around when he'd come up with the scheme (okay so it wasn't the best lie, but it was something he could tell Geralt that wasn't 'well actually I was just engaging in some blatant wish fulfilment fantasy in the only way I could'). He stopped abruptly, however, because Geralt's words actually registered.

"You'll do it?" he stared for a second, before launching quickly into negotiating "I can promise no kissing, but I'm going to have to be at least a little physically affecionate or they'll never believe it, my family have met me."

He knew he was pushing it but actually selling this was kind of the whole point of taking Geralt, so he needed to do it properly.

And if that meant he got to occasionally drape himself possessively over Geralt where his family could see, well so much the better. Even if it would be a bittersweet victory.

eh, no worries :)

[doesntgetinvolved]

Geralt closed his eyes for a few seconds when Jaskier launched into a lengthy explanation anyway, sighing audibly. It wasn't even a good explanation, honestly.

He made an irritated noise that somehow confirmed that he would, indeed, do this, opening his eyes and narrowing them at Jaskier when the bard mentioned needing to be physically affectionate to be credible. "Fine," Geralt agreed, archly. Jaskier was already fairly tactile with him, Geralt thought, so how much worse would this be? In fact, now that he thought about it, Jaskier was probably one of the people he knew that touched him the most; gently, casually, without any fear. It had startled Geralt at first, before he'd gotten used to it. Now, he almost enjoyed it, though he seldom touched Jaskier in return.

"When is this happening?" he asked after a moment of silence. Perhaps he could see this as a contract. A peculiar one, that involved no monster-killing and actually smiling to people instead, but a contract nonetheless. In a way, perhaps it wouldn't be all that different to what he'd had to do when he'd bodyguarded Jaskier. Minus the whole destiny bullshit, hopefully.

Re: eh, no worries :)

[breadpants]

"A week on Saturday." he answered quickly. That gave him just over a week to get them both there, get Geralt appropriately scrubbed up and, mostly, to try and not annoy the Witcher so much he backed out. That was, he knew, a real possibility.

"If we leave in the next couple of days that will give us plenty of time for the journey, and allow us to get some clothes - and don't look at me like that, Geralt," Jaskier had barely even looked at the other man but he could guess at the expression on his face "I will allow you to pick out your own attire for this one but it must be wedding appropriate, no leather."

(As much as he enjoyed Geralt in leather)

He intended to pick out an outfit of his own as well, something nice and flattering and most importantly fancy that would make him look impressive and lend weight to his bound-to-be-slightly-exaggerated tales of his own fame and fortune. If it happened to compliment whatever attire Geralt picked out, so much the better, it would bring a visual element to the subterfuge.