#bsate part 6

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Bright Smiles and Tired Eyes ~ Part 6

(((it’s never ending. i’m suffering. but i’m suffering for you guys!!!! hahaha! just a bunch of fluff this time guys! enjoy!!!!)))

Ao3 - Chapter 6

Summary: Modern Au, Punk!Jaskier, Creature!Jaskier. Geralt needs a new roommate to help him pay rent. Jaskier answers his ad. Through a handful of circumstances and series of events… there’s bed sharing. And some angst. …And so much more.

Word Count: 4581

Jaskier had replaced his instruments easily. Apparently guitars were easy to get, and the record shop he works at also sells gently used pre-owned instruments, and they’d given him a discount on a keyboard. He’d sighed when Geralt asked him about it, it wasn’t as good as his old one, but it was good enough, for now anyway. And Geralt had tried to be happy for him. He really had. But there was a sinking feeling in his gut, because both of his birthday present ideas for Jaskier had just been torn away.

He’d heard Jaskier mention his upcoming birthday to Renfri at the coffee shop. He’d been asking if there was a free muffin or coffee available for birthdays, his whole body drooping when she’d told him no. And since then Geralt had been… planning. He’d been planning… things. Mainly to replace Jaskier’s instruments for him. Granted, he hadn’t really started looking into it. And Jaskier was a musician so he probably should have expected him to replace his own instruments, but he’d been sidetracked. Stuck in his head about finding the perfect gifts and then he’d come home one day and Jaskier had had a new guitar in hand, strumming out an upbeat tune to Roach, who was hopping around on the floor in front of him.

Geralt was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. Listening to Jaskier’s voice across the hall, he was talking to someone. He’d been video chatting with someone a lot. Laughing with them. Geralt didn’t want to pry, so he hadn’t asked. He’d had to bite his tongue a few times. He knew that if he asked, the jealousy he was feeling would seep into is words and Jaskier would know. He was extremely good at reading people. His shinning blue eyes always seemed to see more than they should. Geralt was used to seeing things himself, not other people seeing things in him.

He sighed and let himself fall backwards, staring up at the ceiling. He had no idea what he was supposed to get him for his birthday now. Renfri kept bragging about how good her and Yen’s present was. And every time she mentioned it, Geralt’s stomach tied itself in knots, he had to find the perfect gift. But what do you get a siren, who’s come into your life and turned it upside down, in the best possible way? He needed the perfect gift. But as far as he was concerned, right at this moment, as he groveled alone on his bed, listening to Jaskier’s laughter through the wall, that present didn’t exist. He threw his arm over his eyes and groaned.

“Geralt?”

Jaskier’s voice pulled him from the light sleep he’d been drifting in. He moved his arm away from his face and looked to his door. Jaskier was standing in the door way, tattered sleeveless band shirt hanging loose over a pair of spiderman pajama pants. He looked… nervous. Both hands fiddling with the fabric on his pants as he looked at Geralt through his lashes.

“You okay?”

He hadn’t been nervous around Geralt since the first week he’d been here. But Geralt could smell it. Could feel it. Jaskier nodded and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good. I just… can I show you something? Or I mean I guess, would you… wanna listen to something?” He took a few hesitant steps forward, Geralt could see his hands shaking.

“It’s just something I’ve been working on with Mads. My friend from the shelter. She helps me write things and sing things, sometimes, and I just… I wanted to show you…” his voice trailed off, and he grimaced. Geralt pushed himself off the bed, settling his hand on Jaskier’s shoulder, bringing his eyes from the floor to Geralt’s face.

“I’d like that.” He said, Jaskier’s eyes widened, and he could feel those waves of happiness washing over him again. Jaskier took a few steps, his hand moving from his side to Geralt’s wrist. Geralt followed him, automatically, and then stopped, his hand twisting in Jaskier’s and pulling him to a stop.

“Wait. How-“

“Don’t worry I’ve got it all figured out.” Jaskier smiled and took a tentative step back.

“Trust me?” Jaskier asked, giving Geralt’s hand a squeeze, his voice light, having no clue how weighted that question was for Geralt. Geralt looked at him, all open features and curved lips and softness, and felt his stomach flutter.

“Yes.” Geralt said, his chest aching as he let Jaskier pull him across the hall. The room smelled of cinnamon. Geralt looked around and saw at least three candles lit. Jaskier turned him easily and set him down on the edge of his bed. He held his palms out, moving them down once, motioning for Geralt to stay, without saying it, a smirk on his lips when Geralt raised his eyebrows at him. Roach shuffled out from under Jaskier’s bed and jumped up to lay next to Geralt, pressing against his leg like always.

“Okay so we recorded this a bit ago, a few weeks ago maybe. After… after… the thing.” Jaskier’s eyes glazed over for a moment. He shook his head and came back.

“Anyway!” he clapped his hands and pointed to the candles.

“Those are just a precaution. In case there’s any leftover… siren-y… things, going on. I’m pretty sure I managed to not get them on there, Mads was okay when we recorded. And I filtered the hell out of it. Like four times. Just to be sure and-“

“Jaskier.” He cut him off, the sirens cheeks were nearly glowing red, his hands moving faster and faster as he tried to quell a worry that Geralt didn’t even have.

“Yeah?” he bit his lip, holding in the words that had been falling past his lips, eyes wide as he looked at Geralt.

“Just play the song. I trust you.” Geralt nodded. He watched as Jaskier’s teeth dug deeper into his lip before letting go. He took a deep breath, nodded, and moved to his laptop. It was sitting open on top of his keyboard, the screen lighting up some kind of music player. His hand hovered over the keyboard, his fingers wiggling. He looked back to Geralt, his mouth opening and closing a few times, he looked like a worried fish.

“Jaskier!”

“Okay okay here goes!” Jaskier exclaimed, his hands moving in a flourish and then slamming against the keyboard. He crossed his arms and walked away, Geralt watched him and he waved his hand at him, pointing towards the laptop. Geralt moved his eyes back to it, closing his eyes soon after, listening as an eerie sound filled the room. A sound like wind blowing. And another sound, underneath that, some kind of long drawn out musical note, resonating under the howling wind. And then Jaskier’s voice began and Geralt didn’t care what the sound was, or where it was coming from, or what was making it. He let Jaskier’s voice wash over him, his chest swelling with every word.

“When you call to me asleep,

up the ragged cliffs I scramble.

A single thread hangs limply down.

And I breathe not now, not now.”

His voice is haunting, not singing really, more speaking. It sends shivers over Geralt’s skin. He can hear another voice, a woman’s voice, beneath Jaskier’s, matching his tone, a beautiful haunting whisper.

“I’ve run out of my words, my song.

Just let me die, me die.

Coz I’ll darn you back together,

when you think that you’re bereft,

and you’ll wail you’ll scream, but I’ll never stop,

coz it’s all that I have left.”

Geralt can feel Jaskier pacing, the nervous energy coming off of him filling the room and setting Geralt’s own nerves on edge. Geralt opens his eyes, looking at Jaskier as he paces, his own voice filling the air. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms crossed over his chest, one hand raised, fingers pressed to his lips. His eyes stormy, and uncertain, like he isn’t quite sure he likes what he’s hearing or not.

“I wake and hear you calling,

and up those cliffs I climb.

And find you with a thimble weeping.

May I, I ask, may I?”

Geralt opens his eyes again. Something inside him compelling him, he reaches out, his fingers curling around Jaskier’s arm gently. Jaskier jumps, his mouth dropping open a little as Geralt pulls him down beside him. His eyes on Jaskier’s as those haunting voices continue to speak.

“And you gently gift it to me,

coz you’ve no clue how to sew.”

Geralt smiles at him softly, his fingers still pressed to his wrist. He listens to Jaskier’s voice fade out, the other haunting voice taking over as Jaskier stares back at him, his throat bobbing as he swallows heavily, his eyes roaming over Geralt’s face like they can’t decide what to look at.  

“And I know the kindest thing,

I pray to god it’s the kindest thing.

I know the kindest thing, is to never,

leave you alone.”

The wind howls for a moment longer and then they’re sitting in silence, Jaskier’s hands wringing in his lap, his fingers tangled and tugging at each other, his knee bouncing out a chaotic rhythm. His eyes have fallen to the floor. Geralt takes a deep breath and lays his hand over Jaskier’s, he stills beneath his touch and Jaskier’s eyes are on him again. Geralt’s head swims, not because of the song, not because of his voice, but because of him. Just him.

His senses are full of cinnamon, and Jaskier, and Jaskier’s eyes. The thing behind Geralt’s ribs purrs when Jaskier’s hand turns and his fingers curl around Geralt’s wrist again. His eyes move from Geralt’s eyes to his lips, and then back up, and then back down again. He clears his throat and laughs through his nose. Shaking his head and looking back to his lap.

“So did- did you like it?” He asks with a shrug, his shoulders barely moving. He’s trying to play it down, like he doesn’t care. Geralt can feel how much cares. It’s pouring off him in waves, waves that are making Geralt a little dizzy. Jaskier feels things so deeply, they flow out of him constantly, a steady stream of strong emotions assaulting Geralt at all times. He blinks at Jaskier, licks his lips, because he wants to speak, but his throat is so dry.

“It was,” he takes a deep breath, looks around the room, away from Jaskier, trying to clear his head and remember how words work. It doesn’t work. Not really. He’s in Jaskier’s room, surround by the scent and presence of him. He hasn’t been here that long, not really, but this room is so lived in. So full of him that Geralt can’t remember what it looked like before this, before him. He sighs and looks back to him.

“It was… magical.” He breathes the word, like a prayer, the only word he can think of, the only word he’s ever felt. And he feels it constantly now, always when he’s with Jaskier. Everything about him. Everything he does. Magical. He opens his mouth to try and tell Jaskier this, not sure how he’d even begin to describe it but determined to try. He doesn’t get the chance. He opens his mouth, lips parting just enough for words to escape, and then his lips are sealed again, Jaskier’s own lips a gentle pressure against his own.

Geralt’s eyes refuse to close. They stare forward, at Jaskier, so close, pressing into him. His eyes are closed, his hand moves up Geralt’s arm, over his shoulder, to rest on his neck. Geralt’s skin burns and his eyes still refuse to close. He hasn’t moved. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but he hasn’t moved, he’s frozen, and Jaskier has noticed now. His eyes open instantly, and he’s gone from Geralt’s space just as fast. Backing away from him across the room, one hand held out toward Geralt, the other wrapped around himself tightly. And he’s shrinking in on himself, the way he does, and Geralt’s heart breaks. But he still hasn’t moved why hasn’t he moved?

“Fuck. Geralt I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean- I shouldn’t have- I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again I just-“

Geralt forces himself off the bed, Jaskier’s words and the fear and embarrassment rolling off him pulling Geralt forward. He moves to Jaskier quickly, and then slows, his hands moving to his hips gently, pressing Jaskier back against the wall. He moves one finger to his lips, stopping the torrent of words he can see wanting to overflow. Jaskier’s eyes are wide, and full of guilt, and Geralt can’t have that. Refuses to look at that any longer. He presses forward, his lips pressing into Jaskier’s, the startled sound it pulls from the siren making him smile. And then Jaskier is smiling, their teeth click together, as their lips pull apart.

Jaskier’s hands move fast. One pushed up into his hair, and one wrapped around his waist. His fingers curl in Geralt’s hair, nails moving over his scalp and he presses forward involuntarily, melting into the touch, into Jaskier. The hand on his waist pulls him closer, their bodies flush now. Geralt hums and pulls back, looking at him. His eyes are shinning, the slightly washed away eyeliner there not helping Geralt keep himself in control. He dips forward, brushing his nose against Jaskier and the laugh that bubbles out of him cements the idea in Geralt’s head that that was the best decision he’s ever made.

“Not mad?” he asks, his voice low, just above a whisper. Geralt shakes his head before letting it fall forward onto Jaskier’s shoulder. Jaskier’s fingers move in his hair again, tracing gentle circles on his scalp.

“I didn’t misread that then? You definitely were staring at my mouth?” he gives Geralt’s hip a squeeze and Geralt pulls back, looking at him with furrowed brows.

“Yes.” His voice sounds wrecked, rough, and stuck in his throat. Jaskier’s eyes darken, a look that Geralt has only seen in the few blessed good dreams he’s been granted of late, and he nods. The grip on Geralt’s waist tightens, the fingers in his hair move down to his neck and then Jaskier is kissing him again.

Geralt gasps into the kiss, his arms wrapping around Jaskier. Jaskier’s arm snakes further around him, his hand moves from his neck to Geralt’s shoulder and then Geralt’s back is against the wall, his head swimming after being spun around so effortlessly. Jaskier grins at him, his eyebrows twitch on his forehead, Geralt has only a second to think about how Jaskier’s teeth have that sharp edge to them again and then he’s moaning into Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier’s tongue moves across his teeth, presses deeper as Jaskier moves himself just so between Geralt’s legs and Geralt thinks he might pass out. His hands grab at Jaskier where ever they can reach, they settle on his ass and pull him forward, he smiles against Jaskier’s lips when he groans into Geralt’s mouth, hips rolling into him when Geralt pulls his lip between his teeth. They pull back panting at the same time. Jaskier’s hands settling on his shoulders, petting at his shirt absentmindedly as Geralt moves his fingers over his swollen lips. Geralt dips, brushes their noses again, and grins at the laugh Jaskier chokes out.

“Fuck that was overdue.” Jaskier breathes, pressing forward quickly, his lips a gentle press and then gone again as he looks at Geralt. Geralt sighs, lets his head fall back against the wall. Jaskier hums and moves his fingers over Geralt’s throat, his thumb resting against Geralt’s pulse. He smiles, wolfish, when he feels Geralt’s heart pounding.

“Kinda like me huh?” he teases, fingers squeezing, a barely there pressure that makes Geralt’s hips jump. He bites his lip when Jaskier’s eyes fall between them, noting the movement, and then rise back to Geralt’s face. Geralt can feel the heat crawling over his cheeks, his face burning under Jaskier’s scrutiny.

“Kinda liked that too.” He whispers, pressing close, his lips brushing Geralt’s ear. He presses a kiss to his neck, slow and deliberate, and then he pulls back, away from Geralt completely. He bites into his lip harder to keep the whine that threatens at bay. Jaskier grabs his hand as he sidles backwards, toward the bed. Roach is gone, probably having hopped out into the living room, into her own bed.  

“Hit the light.” He says, a cheeky smile on his lips as he nods toward the switch next to Geralt. Geralt slaps his hand into it, the over head light goes off, leaving them in the low light of the candles Jaskier had lit. Jaskier laughs when Geralt blinks his eyes a few times, trying to adjust. Jaskier walks backwards, pulling Geralt forward, his hand warm in Geralt’s. His legs hit the bed and he stops, pulling Geralt close, lacing their fingers together.

“Would you stay here with me tonight?” he asks, dipping forward like Geralt had done to him, bumping their noses. Geralt smiles.

“You know I will.” He says, his heart pounding as Jaskier moves his hands up Geralt’s arms, slowly. So. Fucking. Slowly.

“I know you will. But do you want to?” he presses, asking for clarification in a way no one ever has for Geralt. Jaskier’s hand settles on his shoulder, fingers brushing against his neck gently. Geralt sighs at the touch, letting his eyes fall closed as he presses his head to Jaskier’s.

“I always want to.” He sighs, smiling in the dark when Jaskier pulled back and pressed his lips to Geralt’s forehead. Like he’d done all those nights ago on the couch.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He whispered, his hands moving back to Geralt’s as he crawled back onto the bed. Geralt followed him gladly, curling up beside him and letting Jaskier drape himself over him, head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing patterns onto his shirt. Geralt smiled to himself in the low light, Jaskier never stopped moving. Not while he was awake. And he moved a lot in his sleep as well, flailing and tossing and turning. Geralt didn’t mind it. Because no matter how much he tossed, and turned, he always ended up curled around Geralt, breathing deep and even as he slept peacefully.

“That friend of yours. She’s not human either is she?” Geralt asks, his fingers moving up and down Jaskier’s arm as he wiggles next to him, trying to get settled. He snorts into Geralt’s chest.

“No. She isn’t.” He can feel Jaskier’s smile, the way his cheek presses harder into his chest.

“Is she like you?” Geralt knows he sounds cautious, and he knows Jaskier is most likely picking up on the jealousy he’s forcing down inside. Jaskier shakes his head.

“Naw, she’s part fae. On her dad’s side. He’s pretty nice. A little intense. But nice.” Geralt smiles, he can picture the way Jaskier’s eyes widen as he describes his friends’ father.

“Is he around a lot?” Geralt bites his lip, hopes Jaskier doesn’t think he’s prying into his non-human friend’s life for nefarious reasons.

“Not really. He’s sort of a loner. He helped her buy the shelter, which was nice, though we’re still trying to decide if he did that for her, or so he could lurk in the woods on the land behind it.” Geralt’s fingers falter on his arm and Jaskier starts laughing, his chest shaking where it’s pressed to Geralt’s. Jaskier braces his hand on Geralt’s chest and moves to look at him.

“I’m just kidding.” He says, wiggling his eyes brows and then settling again.

“Hmm.” Geralt hums, trying to sound as unamused as possible.

“Yeah he likes the woods on the edge of town much better any- Ah!” Geralt pokes him in the ribs and has him laughing again. He laughs into a sigh and then there’s silence as they lay in the warm glow of the candles. Time passes, the candles burn, and Geralt’s mind races.

“Can I ask you something?” Geralt was surprised by the sound of his own voice, loud in the quiet room. Jaskier’s fingers pause and then resume their idle movements.

“Of course.” Jaskier sighs.

“Your teeth. They… sometimes they look…”

“Sharp.” Jaskier supplies, his hand pressing flat against Geralt’s chest.

“Yes. Is that how they really look? Without the magic?” Geralt moves his hand to Jaskier’s head, burying his fingers into Jaskier’s hair, his mohawk is soft from his shower, it was a pretty greenish blue today, Geralt’s favorite so far.

“Yeah.  Siren genes are strong. It takes strong magic to hide the… lingering features.” His fingers are moving again, nervously tapping over Geralt’s heart. Geralt moves his hand to Jaskier’s, holding it still. He moves, doing his best to look at Jaskier as he lays on his chest. Jaskier moves to lean on his elbow and looks down at him.

“What?” He asks after a long moment of Geralt just looking at him.

“Can I see?” he moves his fingers between Jaskier’s, his thumb soothing circles into his skin. He sees Jaskier blanch, watches him swallow, his eyes going wide and then looking at their hands.

“I don’t know if that-“ he starts, voice quiet, and shaking.

“Jaskier. I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezes Jaskier’s hand and then moves his hand to Jaskier’s cheek, his thumb pressed to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth.

“You can show me.” He moves his thumb across Jaskier’s lips, smiling when Jaskier presses into it, kissing his thumb as it passes.

“You can trust me.” Geralt soothes, his other hand moving to Jaskier’s on his chest. Jaskier looks at him, for a long time, his eyes roaming over Geralt’s face in the candlelight. He watches as Jaskier takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

The glamour that covers him fades slowly, his skin begins to shimmer, the way it had in the warehouse, the faintest outline of what look like scales dance across his skin. They don’t cover his face, they shine on his cheeks and down his neck, Geralt can see his arms shimmer as well. He opens his eyes finally, and Geralt gasps, they’re black, solid black, no white to be seen. Geralt moves his fingertips under Jaskier’s eyes, across the dark circles he’s been longing to touch since they’d met, and looks closer. There is color there. Thin lines of blue running through the inky darkness like lightning. Jaskier sighs at Geralt’s touch, his fingers curling in his shirt.

“You’re beautiful.” Geralt breathes, his fingers never leaving Jaskier’s face. Jaskier smiles then, and a mouthful of pointed teeth greet Geralt. The smile is sheepish, not at all a match for the teeth lurking behind it. Geralt knows he should say more, knows he should say something. But he can’t. His mouth is dry again, and there are no words in his head that could possibly do this justice.

“Are you just gonna stare at me forever?” Jaskier asks, a breathy laugh escaping him as he moves his hand up to hold onto Geralt’s where it’s still caressing his face.

“If you’ll let me. Yes.” Geralt says, finally managing to speak. Jaskier laughs again, ducks his head onto Geralt’s chest, and settles down onto him again.

“You were afraid to show me.” The silence that follows tells Geralt he’s right.

“Why? You know I wouldn’t hurt you.” His hand is back in Jaskier’s hair, he knows he likes it, knows it calms him.

“I do. But I also know you’re a witcher. And I look human. And I know you know I’m not. But… sometimes… in my experience. Seeing the human parts slip away, seeing the monster underneath. It can… change how people feel. It can change their stance on how exactly they feel about monsters.” He pushes himself up again, looks down at Geralt, skin shimmering.

“No matter how much someone claims to love you, monster and all, that can always change when the glamour falls. Usually does. Trust me.” He huffs, looking at Geralt with sad eyes and a smile to match.

“And you’re a witcher. It’s your…job. To kill monsters. Just a lingering fear I suppose. From all those scary stories that monster mommies tell their retched little children at night.” He smiles again, mischief dancing in his eyes as sharp teeth sink into his lip. Geralt tilts his head.

“Was I a scary story your mother used to make you behave?” his fingers move in Jaskier’s hair, he leans into the touch, humming happily as Geralt smiles up at him. Jaskier drops himself back down, settling back into Geralt.

“Of course you were.”

“And did it work?” Geralt is grinning now, knowing the answer before Jaskier gives it.

“Oh absolutely not.” He laughs, the happy sound sending shivers through Geralt.

“It peeked my curiosity if anything. I mean look at me. I’ve never run from a witcher. Hell, I answered an ad and moved in with one.” His body shakes against Geralt as he keeps laughing.

“Would your mother really be surprised?” Geralt asks, hoping afterward, realizing what he’s asked, that the question wouldn’t hurt Jaskier.

“No. She’d probably say it was fitting that I’ve fallen in love with a witcher. I was always a contradictory little creature.” He laughs again and then goes rigid. Geralt can hear his heart begin to pound in his chest as he realizes what he’s said. Geralt breathes deeply, his heart beat matching the frantic beats of the man beside him. His fingers had stopped moving when Jaskier spoke. He willed them to move again, slow circles, trying to sooth him. But Jaskier’s body stays still, and stiff, next to him. He’s barely breathing and Geralt doesn’t now what to do. There is one thing, his brain supplies, the thing behind his chest rumbling at the idea. To have out with it, once and for all.

“I love you too Jaskier.”

He whispers the words. Presses them into Jaskier’s hair with a kiss, and feels him melt into him. His body relaxes again and he wraps his arm around Geralt, pulling him closer. He moves his head again, his lips find Geralt’s neck and he peppers kisses there, moving his way up Geralt’s jaw until Geralt is sure he’s going to faint. His skin is burning again, Jaskier’s kisses and touches searing him in the best way as he makes his way to his mouth. Jaskier licks into him with a purpose, Geralt moans and clings to him, his eyes falling shut as he moves his mouth against Jaskier’s, doing his best to keep up with that wicked tongue. Jaskier pulls back again, looking down at him, panting against his mouth in the flickering light. He presses forward quickly, a chaste kiss pressed to Geralt’s lips with a laugh, and then he’s laying on his chest again. Geralt takes a deep breath and lets it out with a sigh. He hears, and feels, Jaskier snort.

“Sorry. I just… I had to.” He says, his fingers digging deep into Geralt’s ribs, holding him close, making Geralt squirm closer. He presses another kiss into Jaskier’s shower soft hair, and sighs.

“I’m not complaining.” He mumbles, smiling at the ceiling as Jaskier’s musical laugh fills the room.