#and look don't @ me for posting a hannakuh fic on christmas

[contemplativepancakes]

may your days be meowy and bright

a @geraskierholidayexchange fic for @cosmokitt !! I hope you like it :D

Geralt glares at Jaskier from across the counter. He’s sitting at one of the tables, his head leaned in towards Eskel as they look at something on his phone. Geralt’s sure it can’t be anything good.

He clears his throat obnoxiously, and Jaskier jerks back and smiles at Geralt. Geralt’s not certain of the intent, but it comes off as guilty more than anything else.

Geralt finishes plating the jelly donuts to put in his pastry display, setting them down beside the Christmas cookies, before he wipes his hands off on his apron and ambles over to them. Jaskier slams his phone face down on the table and looks up, folding his hands.

Eskel shoots him a bright grin.

Geralt scowls. “What trouble are you two causing now?”

“Trouble? Us? I can’t even begin to tell you how offended I am,” Jaskier says, a hand dramatically clapped to his chest.

Eskel suppresses a snort. “Did you bring us donuts?”

“You’re going to eat me right out of business,” he says, but he plunks a plate down, anyway.

-

“Right, right. And you’re okay with that? Amazing, I’ll keep you updated. Thank you!” Jaskier trills into his phone as Geralt closes the door to their apartment behind him, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“Who was that?”

Jaskier stirs a pot on the stove and beams at Geralt. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“You know I hate it when you say that.”

Jaskier ignores the comment. “Tell me what this needs,” he says instead, holding out a spoon.

Geralt comes closer, inhaling the scent of garlic bread from the stove. He takes the spoon and tastes the sauce, humming thoughtfully. “I think it’s fine.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why I even bother. You’d eat anything I slopped onto your plate.”

“Yes, and you’re welcome.”

Jaskier winds his arms around Geralt and catches his lips in a kiss. Geralt’s still not sure how he managed to get this lucky, but he’s not complaining. They’ve been living together for about a year now, ever since Jaskier had essentially announced he was moving in. 

Well, he didn’t put it like that, exactly. He’d said, “My lease is up in a month, and I really don’t want to look for another place. If only there was a solution,” before draping himself over Geralt’s lap on the couch dramatically.

Who was Geralt to tell him no? He’s had a poor track record, historically.

Maybe that’s why, later, with his head on Jaskier’s chest as he absentmindedly curls his fingers around Jaskier’s chest hair, he only looks a little disgruntled when Jaskier asks him if they can get a cat.

“Come on, darling, it’s the holiday season.” Jaskier bats his eyes at Geralt.

Geralt grunts and shuts his eyes, wrapping an arm around Jaskier and pulling him closer.

Well, Jaskier thinks, it’s as good as a yes.

Jaskier gets off the elevator and looks around furtively before he waves Eskel off. There’s an indignant mewl as the carrier pitches to one side, and Jaskier hisses at Eskel to be more careful. Jaskier hefts his tote bag up higher on his shoulder and looks at his watch.

“Geralt is going to be home in an hour, so we don’t have much time,” he says, swinging open the door.

He was honestly only a little taken aback to see Geralt sitting in their recliner, because nothing can ever go right.

“What are you doing home?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls, and Jaskier gives a nervous laugh.

“This is Duchess,” he says with a flourish. “Just look at her, and I promise you won’t be able to stay mad.”

Geralt turns a betrayed look to Eskel. “You knew?”

“Geralt, it was on the shelter’s Facebook page that she needed a quiet and calm home. You’re the quietest and calmest person I know!”

“Serendipity? It sure seems like it,” Jaskier chimes in.

Geralt rolls his eyes and slowly stands up, walking towards them and peering into the cat carrier. “She seems a little standoffish, so I think you’ll really just be two peas in a pod,” Eskel says, and Geralt glares at him.

Eskel goes to open the carrier, but Jaskier stops him. “Wait! I read that we should introduce her to new spaces slowly so she doesn’t get overwhelmed!”

Geralt and Eskel stare at him for a beat. “God, you’re such a nerd,” Eskel says.

Jaskier opens his mouth to protest, but he did devote about four hours to research last night, so he’s not sure he has much of a leg to stand on.

“You’re going to love her,” he says to Geralt, instead.

Geralt huffs. Jaskier’s sure he’ll come around.

-

In the end, it turns out that it takes longer for Duchess to warm up to Geralt than the other way around, not that Geralt would ever admit it. When Jaskier comes home three days later, it’s to see Geralt’s legs sticking out from under their bed, trying to coax Duchess into coming out.

“Geralt?”

Geralt jerks up, hitting his head and cursing, sending Duchess in a black streak across the floor. Jaskier holds back a snicker. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine.”

“Uh huh. Not spoiled by a certain kitten who won’t let you pet her?”

Geralt slowly slides out from under the bed before sitting up and crossing his arms. Jaskier tries to contain his smirk at Geralt’s pout. 

“No.”

“Right. How was work?”

Geralt brightens at the prospect of talking about the cafe. “I made a new blend today."

"Oh?"

"Even Lambert admitted it was good."

"You know it was amazing then," Jaskier says in a sing song voice. "Did you bring me any?"

Geralt quirks a smile at him. "You want old coffee?"

Jaskier shrugs.

Geralt sighs. "It's in the fridge, you animal."

"Thank you, love." Jaskier grins and bounces off to retrieve it. He finds it in the door of their refrigerator, with a heart on it. Jaskier’s sure Eskel teased Geralt about it relentlessly. 

He dumps it into a pot on the stovetop to heat it up, because Geralt will have a coronary if he just nukes it. When it's just the right side of warm, he dumps it back into the cup.

He makes sure to drink it with the heart facing out and pretends he doesn't notice Geralt's tiny smile.

"How did the donut making go today?"

"Good. Sure as fuck beats making cut outs."

Jaskier tosses him a hopeful glance.

"They're in the microwave."

Jaskier dashes back out to the kitchen, Duchess darting out from under the bed to trail him. Geralt frowns at them both.

-

By the end of week two, it's as if Duchess has always been with them. Geralt went through the first week terrified he was somehow going to fuck her up, but it has mostly worn off. He's resigned to the fact that she's never going to leave him alone now, as evidenced by the insistent kneading on Geralt’s chest that wakes him up. He groans and turns over, dislodging Duchess from his torso. She gives him an indignant mrp, and he pulls a pillow over his head. “Jaskier, go feed your damn cat.”

Duchess moves on from Geralt to walk over Jaskier’s face, and Jaskier makes a disgruntled noise before he clambors out of bed.

Geralt tries to go back to sleep to no avail. He grumbles to himself. He wakes up early enough as it is to get food in the ovens and the coffee brewing before his shop opens; he certainly doesn’t need to be getting up any earlier than that.

There’s the clinking of cat food pouring into a bowl and then Jaskier is stumbling back into bed. He tugs Geralt close, leaning in to give him a kiss, but Geralt puts a hand on his chest. “You just had cat feet all over your face. I know exactly where those paws have been.”

As if on cue, Duchess scratches around in her litter box, and Jaskier sighs.

Jaskier burrows back into the blankets, putting his cold feet on Geralt. Geralt’s alarm goes off a few minutes later, and Geralt heaves himself about of bed, much to Jaskier’s mumbled protest. Geralt is sure he’s just upset because his feet are still cold. Geralt tugs the pillow out from under Jaskier on his way out, giving him a soft whack. “Love you,” Geralt grunts.

Jaskier takes the pillow and hugs it to his chest, giving Geralt a sour look. “I love you, too, you menace.”

Geralt gives Jaskier a private grin and goes about his morning routine, practically feeling Jaskier’s eyes burning into his back.

“See something you like?”

“You know I do.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on, Geralt. You don't even work today."

And that... is compelling. Geralt had completely forgotten Eskel was going to run things today, giving him the day off for once for the last day of Hannakuh. Jaskier tugs him back onto the bed and pulls him into a sound kiss.

They're interrupted by an indignant yowling, and Geralt pulls away to stare at Duchess with dismay. "Is she going to do this every time?"

Jaskier shudders. "God, I hope not. This is why we don't have kids, Geralt! I'm not prepared to give up my sex life!"

Geralt blinks; it's way too early for Jaskier to be discussing having children with him.

"Hmm. Is that the only reason?"

Jaskier pauses, his hands tangling in the tassels on their blanket. "I don't know, is it?"

Geralt shrugs. "I'm—amiable."

"Amiable? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Do you want kids?"

Geralt feels like he's stripping himself bare, but it's not as uncomfortable as he would have imagined when Jaskier is the one he's doing it for.

"I can...imagine it."

"Yeah?" Jaskier asks softly, tilting his head up to look at Geralt.

"Yeah."

Duchess chooses that moment to jump up on the bed between them, making Jaskier laugh and stroke his hand through her fur, a fond look on his face that makes Geralt melt just a little.

Duchess moves on from Jaskier to climb into Geralt's lap, and after she gives him a little headbutt and hops off of his lap as well, Jaskier pulls him up.

"Come on, let's play dreidel. I'm going to beat you this time."

Geralt rolls his eyes. "Not a chance."

Geralt lets Jaskier pull him into their living room, and Geralt drapes a blanket around his shoulders as Jaskier putters around making them coffee. Geralt is sure it will be way too weak; but he'll drink it anyway. He's content to just have someone besides him make it for once.

Jaskier comes back with two mugs and hands one to Geralt.

"Thank you," Geralt says, taking a sip.

"Okay?" Jaskier asks, like he does every time.

"Perfect," Geralt replies, like he does every time.

Jaskier beams and retrieves the top from their side table. "I'm serious, I'm going to win."

Geralt hums, unimpressed. He gets up to go find their chocolate coins they use for the betting pool. Geralt finds them in the cupboard, rolling his eyes fondly as he notices there are definitely less of them remaining than there were the last time they played.

Geralt returns, and they start playing, the game going on for a while before Jaskier gets frustrated.

The dreidel finally stops spinning, falling on its side with a gentle clunk, and Geralt slowly looks up from it to grin at Jaskier.

Jaskier crosses his arms across his chest and pouts. “This is entirely unfair that you’re so good at this. This is a game of luck!”

Geralt hums as he finishes pulling in all of the gelt on the table closer to him. “It’s not. Heart of the dreidel.”

“I never should have made you watch Yugi-Oh with me,” Jaskier huffs. “Well, in that case, it’s even worse. You’re going to share with me, right?” He scoots his chair closer to Geralt until he’s practically in his lap.

Geralt picks up one of the chocolates and tilts it in his fingers, admiring the way the wrapper catches the light. “Hmm. I’m not sure about that.”

He peels the gold foil off, popping the gelt into his mouth. Jaskier makes an injured sound, and Geralt tugs him completely into his lap. “I might be persuaded,” he murmurs and presses his lips to Jaskier’s.