#Slowly doling out all my ships at least the ones IN THE BIG BOOK (me and my writing partners google docs) LMFAO

[resurrection-trait]

He got her :( !!

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 4: dream dismissal

Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 2815 Summary: Jaskier is given the opportunity of a lifetime--the chance to tour with the Priscilla. He has to decide if he wants to take the opportunity, or stay with Geralt and Ciri.

Author’s Note: i am a SCRUB who forgot to mention on my post yesterday (for grand gesture) that @valdomarx gave me the idea for that fic! i have updated it on ao3 to give rightful credit, but didn’t want the credit to get buried on tumblr. thank you so much!!

read on ao3

“We could do long distance, couldn’t we?”

The room was dark, and Geralt was almost startled by Jaskier interrupting the silence. Almost. He had expected Jaskier to continue the conversation from earlier. Jaskier was not going to be able to sleep unless he emptied his head of at least some of the thoughts bouncing around and demanding they be heard. Geralt just wished he had done it a little sooner.

“Is this a lights on conversation?” Geralt asked. He didn’t roll over to face his boyfriend just yet, but he did scoot himself up just a little, ready to reach out and turn the switch.

“No, no,” Jaskier said, and Geralt could picture him shaking his head, as if he was completely sure. “It’ll be quick, promise. I’ll let you sleep. Just. We could do it, right?”

Geralt rolled over to find Jaskier sitting up completely. Had he ever laid down? Probably not. Geralt propped his head up on his crooked elbow. He was going to regret not turning on the light, he was sure, but he didn’t want to waste time arguing with Jaskier over something so trivial. Not when this conversation was more important.

“Of course we could. There’s a lot of different ways this could go, but us breaking up so you can leave isn’t one of them,” Geralt answered.

Jaskier’s shoulders remained tense. Geralt stretched out a hand and laid it over Jaskier’s, intertwining their fingers. Still tense, but now at least Jaskier was smiling, just a little.

“No? It wouldn’t be too much?” Jaskier asked. “I’d be gone for months, Geralt. And in different timezones. We’re not used to being away from each other that long, and what if we can’t even talk for days?”

“As if you’d let that happen. You’d call me from the toilet if that was the only spare time you had,” Geralt answered. “And I’d answer. Complain, definitely, but answer.”

Jaskier snorted, then his free thumb--the one Geralt wasn’t currently trailing his own thumb over--made its way to his mouth. He chewed on the nail absently, his eyes so wide the white almost shone in the darkness.

“You don’t have to decide tonight, Jask,” Geralt reminded him. He sat himself up, which was a bit of a struggle without extracting his hand from Jaskier’s grasp, but he managed it. “You were only offered the tour today, and it’s still months out. No one is expecting you to have an answer by tomorrow morning.”

“I know,” Jaskier said, but he sounded miserable just the same. “It feels like this should be an easy decision, though. I mean. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“And five years ago it would have been easy,” Geralt answered, shrugging. “Before you had us tying you down. Ciri and I complicate things.”

Geralt pulled his hand from Jaskier’s, quickly sliding it around Jaskier’s back to assuage the hurt look and hook him in by the hip. Geralt tugged Jaskier close to him and let out a satisfied noise as Jaskier wrapped his arm around Geralt’s waist, hooked their legs together, and buried his face in Geralt’s shoulder. It was only once he was completely wrapped around Geralt that Jaskier finally relaxed, just a little bit.

“It’s a good sort of complicated. I wouldn’t trade you two for the world,” Jaskier mumbled.

Geralt hummed. It was taking every bit of effort he had in him not to voice his own fears. Jaskier didn’t need Geralt’s own, likely unfounded, concerns and hesitations. Still, though, it was hard not to play out the worst-case scenarios in his head. 

What if Jaskier got some distance, and realized that life was better without Geralt and Ciri? What if he realized that fatherhood was too much responsibility, when he could be off chasing his dreams of being a superstar? What if Jaskier met someone while he was on tour, someone as bright and eye catching as Jaskier was, and realized he deserved better than Geralt? What if this was just the first step in losing him? What if the phone calls tapered off, and Jaskier never came back, not really, not in the capacity Geralt had him now?

He couldn’t voice these fears. Jaskier didn’t need the burden of Geralt’s panicking on top of his own. And, truly, Geralt was proud of Jaskier and excited for him. He’d be the second opener for Priscilla, who was already a global superstar, and she had chosen Jaskier. It was huge, and would skyrocket his career and his fame. Jaskier had to take it. If Geralt had anything to say about it, he would take it, and Geralt would just have to hope that he was let down easy, when the time came.

“I wish this didn’t feel like I was choosing between two halves of me,” Jaskier said, a while later.

Geralt kissed the top of Jaskier’s head, then slowly settled them back down on the mattress. Jaskier moved with him and once they were laying down, he rewrapped himself so he was half on top of Geralt. Normally, Geralt would have complained, teased Jaskier about crushing him. Now, though, he was sure they both needed the contact.

“This half isn’t going anywhere,” Geralt assured him. “If you decide to go, we’ll make it work.”

Jaskier fell silent after that, but they both took a long time to drift off to sleep.

--

“I’m going to go,” Jaskier said from the doorway.

Geralt looked up from his book, an eyebrow raised. He knew what Jaskier was talking about, of course, but he hadn’t expected those to be the first words out of his mouth as Jaskier came home from work.

“Nice to see you, too, Jaskier,” Geralt teased, putting down his book.

Jaskier crossed the room and plopped himself down on the other side of the couch, facing Geralt. His face was red and he was still breathing a bit hard, though he was trying very hard to keep his breaths even. Had he run home?

“Hi, love. It’s nice to see you,” Jaskier said, though the words rushed out of him before he repeated, “I’m going to go.”

“That’s great,” Geralt answered. He kept his voice steady, though it felt almost like his heart was beating its way out of his chest. Geralt didn’t want this, but who was he to say no?

“Another opportunity like this isn’t going to come up again. I’ve been working toward this my entire life, and things are finally falling into place. I’d be stupid not to take this opportunity Priscilla is giving me. I mean--this could lead to a real record deal. I could become… maybe not as big as Priscilla, but bigger than I am now,” Jaskier said, and by the end of his explanation, his chest was heaving with his breaths.

“You’re right,” Geralt answered, nodding.

Jaskier didn’t react. Geralt didn’t think he really heard Geralt; he was so caught up in his explanation.

“And you and I--we can do long distance. I mean, we’ve been away from each other before. Just. Not this long. And it’d be hard, but I think we could handle it. And--and Ciri probably wouldn’t totally understand, and that would be heartbreaking to not see her, but we could prepare her and talk her through me being gone for so long. And video call all the time. I love you guys, and we could make this work, and I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think we could survive it. I just--I have to go after this, you know? I won’t get another opportunity like this.”

Geralt reached out a hand and set it on Jaskier’s knee, calming the way it was bouncing nervously. Jaskier finally looked at him, and something on Geralt’s face had Jaskier letting out his breath in a loud whoosh.

“It’s okay, Jask. I’m not mad. Whatever you choose, I’ll be here,” he answered.

Jaskier’s head tilted to the side, his eyes wide and wet, but he didn’t let any tears fall. Instead, he leaned in and took Geralt’s face in his hands and kissed Geralt.

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered. And that was that.

--

“Geralt, I can’t,” Jaskier whined as Geralt came down the stairs.

Geralt shot Jaskier a questioning look just before he dutifully put Ciri’s latest favorite toy back exactly where she specified it needed to go. He had learned the hard way not to allow the favored toy to stay in her room at night, lest the three-year-old decide that sleep was for chumps again. When he had placed it back on its shelf and Jaskier still hadn’t answered, Geralt turned to where Jaskier was sitting at the table and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you going to tell me what you can’t, or was I supposed to just know from that vague statement?” Geralt asked. 

Geralt stepped up behind Jaskier’s chair and put his hands on Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier sighed with his normal amount of dramatic flair and tilted his head back until it rested against Geralt’s stomach.

“I can’t leave,” Jaskier said, still sounding just as distressed. “How could anyone leave that sweet thing? She’s doling out kisses and promised me I could have another one in the morning as long as I’m good. I can’t just… not help you put her to bed when she’s here! It’s hard enough when she’s just at Yennefer’s!”

Geralt hummed and leaned in, kissing Jaskier’s forehead before he straightened up again.

“So you aren’t going?” he asked.

“So I’m not going,” Jaskier answered. 

Jaskier took hold of Geralt’s fingers and tilted his chin up, just a little, but insistently enough that Geralt conceded and leaned in for a kiss. Geralt wished more than anything that they could stay here, in this decision.

--

“Geralt.”

Geralt hummed, but didn’t look up from the dish he was drying. He placed it on the drying mat, then held out his hands for a new dish, but Jaskier did not let go until Geralt was looking at him.

“Yes, Jaskier?” Geralt asked, and finally Jaskier released the dish. 

Jaskier turned back to the sink and started in on another dish, his jaw working though his mouth did not open. Geralt braced himself. Another flip flop, then. Geralt hadn’t said anything--had been pointedly neutral any time the discussion came up--but he had started to believe Jaskier had settled on not going.

“I don’t know what I should do,” Jaskier said.

“About the tour?”

“Yeah. It… feels wrong to turn it down. But it also feels wrong to leave.” He sighed, then passed on another dish. Jaskier’s now-empty hands wrapped around the edge of the counter and he leaned into it, the muscles of his forearms pressing against his skin. “I wish it was as easy as you just… coming with me.”

“I wish it was, too,” Geralt agreed. He put the dish, now drier, on the mat with the others, and leaned his back against the counter. “But you know it’s not. I can’t leave work that long, we can’t pull Ciri out of preschool, and we can’t fly Ciri out every other week to go to Yen’s.”

Jaskier sighed again and nodded, working his lower lip between his teeth hard enough that Geralt was half convinced he’d bite through it soon. He stared down at the sink, still full of water and bubbles. Geralt stared at Jaskier.

“What do you want me to do?” Jaskier asked.

“No, Jask,” Geralt said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to answer that.”

“But why not? Surely you have an opinion.”

“I can’t make this choice for you. I refuse to be what pushes you away, or what takes your dream away from you. I told you I’d support whatever you chose, and I will. But I won’t choose for you.”

Jaskier made an agitated noise and forcefully--or, as forcefully as he could--pulled the plug in the sink. He stormed off into the living room and dropped himself onto the couch, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. Geralt wanted to say he looked like a child. It would be true, but Jaskier wouldn’t take that as a tease right now.

“But you haven’t given me any indication of what it is you would want, Geralt,” Jaskier insisted. He scowled at Geralt when Geralt followed after him and sat on the cushion beside Jaskier, but let Geralt take his hand and entangle their fingers.

“I would miss you if you left,” Geralt answered, kissing the back of Jaskier’s hand. “And I’d be disappointed if you turned this opportunity down. It’s not any easier a decision for me.”

Jaskier frowned, but he nodded. A moment later, he was scooting closer to Geralt and throwing his legs over Geralt’s lap. They were quiet for a long time, just enjoying the sounds of a silent, child-free house, as it would only remain for another 8 hours or so. Geralt didn’t want to imagine what it would sound like when Jaskier left. Because he had to. That was where this was all going. Jaskier had to choose his career, and they would just have to hope for the best.

“You want me to stay, don’t you?” Jaskier finally asked, tucking his chin into Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt snorted. “If you’re going to trick me, you’ll have to do better than that.”

--

The house had been silent before. It was hardly the first time Geralt had it all completely to himself. This time, however, was different. Other silences had the promise that they would soon end, and Geralt would find himself back with his ever-moving daughter or his endlessly noisy musician. It had become a comfort, having all that movement and noise in the house.

Now it was just Geralt, for the foreseeable future. He stood in front of the garage door of his empty house after dropping Ciri off at Yennefer’s for the week. Jaskier had left earlier today for his tour, after lengthy goodbyes to both Ciri and Geralt. Geralt didn't want to open that door and walk into a home that was technically his own, and yet not.

There was nothing to be gained by standing outside the door, though. So Geralt took a deep breath, pushed the door open, walked inside....

...and found candles.

Geralt stopped, blinking dumbly at the lit candles in the otherwise dark entryway. They led to the side, around the corner and, presumably, up the stairs? Geralt didn’t dare let himself hope, but he certainly hadn’t placed them there, nor would he have lit the candles before leaving the house for an extended period of time. Instead of letting himself hope, or dwell too much at all, Geralt followed the trail.

They did, in fact, lead upstairs. To the closed door of the bedroom he shared with Jaskier. Geralt took another breath, then pushed the door open.

There Jaskier was, sitting on the end of the bed and smiling sheepishly up at Geralt.

“Jask, what are you--”

“You know, in all my back and forth, I ignored the most important thing,” Jaskier interrupted, standing up. He stepped across the short distance between them and took Geralt’s hands. The low lighting made him look even more beautiful than usual, and Geralt could just barely make out the flush of his cheeks. “I didn’t forget, because it was there, in the back of my mind. I just didn’t let myself think about it.”

“Jaskier, you’re supposed to be on a plane right now, what are you--”

“I tried. I got there, I was all ready to go, and then I just… couldn’t. It was all wrong.” He shook his head, and stepped impossibly closer. “I realized I left you behind. I’d never forgive myself if I got on that plane without you.”

“You know I can’t--”

“Then that means I can’t, either.” Jaskier leaned in, and pressed his lips to Geralt’s in a chaste kiss. “You’re the love of my life. When I picture how I want the rest of my life to go, maybe five years ago it would have included this tour. But now? Now, I’d be happy to be a nobody musician forever, because staying here, with you, is what I want.”

Relief washed over Geralt. He let go of Jaskier’s hands to wrap his arms around Jaskier’s middle and pull him in for the tightest hug he had ever given anyone. Jaskier hummed happily and leaned into the embrace, mirroring the way Geralt pressed his face into Jaskier’s neck.

“I had a feeling there was something you weren’t telling me,” Jaskier whispered some time later.

“I never want you to leave,” Geralt answered, feeling brave now that they were in the almost-dark. Jaskier was here and Jaskier was going to stay. Geralt could hold him all he wanted, because he wasn’t going anywhere.