The Witcher (One shots)

Weak And Wanting

(Geralt x Jaskier)

“Look, why don’t we leave tomorrow?” Jaskier’s voice was soft and earnest, “That is, if you’ll give me another chance to prove myself a worthy travel companion?”

“Hm,” Geralt couldn’t bring himself to meet Jaskier’s gaze, a flutter of guilt in his chest. Those words that had been an offhand comment at the time, had clearly been playing on Jaskier’s mind.

“We could head to the coast. Get away for a while.”

There was a pause where Jaskier fidgeted slightly and Geralt could hear the slight increase in his heart rate. A strange feeling started to spread through Geralt, one he couldn’t quite place, and he couldn’t decide if the churning in his stomach was good or unpleasant.

“Sounds like something Borch would say, doesn’t it?” Jaskier quirked a small smile, “Life’s too short. Do what pleases you. While you can.”

“Composing your next song?” Geralt responded lightly, Jaskier’s words sending a tight coil into his gut.

“No, I just uh… just trying to work out what pleases me.”

Geralt turned to look at him. Really look at him.

After nearly twenty-two years by his side, it was like he was seeing the bard properly for the first time. His soft blue eyes twinkling in the light of the setting sun. The sincerity and honesty in his expression. The way he fiddled with the sleeve of his red doublet. His offer of comfort quickly turning to baring his soul to the Witcher. Open and vulnerable and trusting. Brave Jaskier. Loyal Jaskier. Kind Jaskier. Loving Jaskier.

In that moment Geralt suddenly knew what his life had been missing, what he had been unwittingly searching for. In that moment, the very last wall he had been hiding behind for years finally crumbled.

He half stood, leaning over Jaskier, caressing the side of his face with a warm hand, and kissed him.

Jaskier’s noise of surprise quickly became a soft moan as he melted into Geralt. His own hands finding their way to curl into Geralt’s shirt. Geralt cupped both his cheeks tenderly, drawing him impossibly closer, trying to convey every unspoken emotion in a press of lips on lips.

Jaskier’s heart was thundering in his chest, loud and strong, especially against the Witcher’s sensitive hearing. Geralt’s slow heartbeat picked up a pace.

He dropped his nose to Jaskier’s chin for a moment, then forced himself to meet Jaskier’s watery blue eyes. He offered Jaskier a warm, gentle smile and something in Jaskier’s expression broke. A tear, quickly followed by another, rolled down his cheek.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?” he blinked rapidly, voice thick, “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been? Being in love with you for…for all these years?”

Jaskier’s voice broke on the last few words and Geralt felt his heart shatter.

“I’m here now. I’m with you now,” he tried, longing to be able to reverse the years so that he could have done this sooner, done this when he had…when…shit…when Jaskier had more time.

Jaskier was half-way through his life and he had given it all to Geralt. And Geralt had taken him for granted every step of the way. No longer. What time Jaskier had left in his cruelly short life, Geralt was going to spend making it up to him. Making up for lost time. Starting now.