#witcher hannah montana au apparently

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

He Could Be the One

(Part Two of the Hannah Montana au that nobody asked for but that’s actually really fun to write)

---

Geralt slips into the alleyway behind the venue and clambers his way onto a pile of empty boxes outside the star’s green room. If he can’t take Jaskier to see Dandelion then he can certainly take an exclusive picture of Dandelion to give Jaskier. Hopefully his unrequited crush would be one step closer to, well, requiting things.

When Geralt finally reaches the top of the pile and peeks in through the window, though, that plan goes to shit. He watches with wide, shocked amber eyes as Dandelion removes what is, apparently, a heavily styled blonde wig. Underneath the disguise is a shock of messy, chestnut brown hair.

When Dandelion turns around to face the window again, his makeup removed and his wig clutched in his hand, Geralt gasps in shock and loses his grip on the rough bricks of the windowsill. 

“Fuck!” he cries, falling backwards onto his ass in the alley. The camera he’d rented from the school newspaper goes hurtling off into the darkness, probably broken. 

He knows that face. He knows that soft-looking brown hair.

Dandelion and Jaskier are one in the same.

A moment after he hits the ground, the venue’s back door bursts open and Jaskier glances around, brows furrowed with worry. “Hello? Are you okay out here?”

“Hnnn...” Geralt groans, rubbing the spot on his hip where his body had first connected with the ground. He knows it’s going to bruise; if this is even really happening. It feels like a dream. Like something that only happens on the Disney channel but never in real life (this cannot be real life). If it does bruise well...holy fucking shit, Jaskier is a pop star.

“G-Geralt!?” Jaskier glances between his classmate, still laying sprawled against the dirty asphalt of the alley in a state of apparent catatonia, and the wig still clutched in his hand. “Well shit.”

“You-you’re-” he gawks, pointing up at Jaskier. You know, like an idiot. “You’re Dandelion!”

“Ta da?” Jaskier half-smiles. The slender brunette is clearly exhausted from the show he’s just put on and now he looks anxious on top of it. Seeing just how vulnerable and scared Jaskier seems, Geralt’s heart melts in his chest. It always melts when he sees the cute junior; he’s had a crush on the other boy for months. Ever since he’d transferred into Geralt’s English class. 

The same junior who is, apparently, an internationally recognized pop sensation with a net worth somewhere in the millions. 

“G...Geralt?” Jaskier asks again, waving his hand in front of the older boy’s face. “Hello?”

“You’re uh...” Geralt is trying desperately to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth so he can fucking say something and stop staring like a fool. “Holy shit, you’re Dandelion. That’s why you’re always humming his - your songs between classes, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I broke the school’s only camera,” Geralt says, gesturing out into the darkness. “But it was worth it.”

“Want to come sit in my green room and chat? My manager is probably going to want you to sign an NDA or some shit,” Jaskier sighs. “I don’t know. I’ll let him handle it. I’m too tired. That was fun, but I’m exhausted. And hungry.”

“I’m so sorry.” It’s the only thing Geralt can think to say as he stands up and dusts himself off. He hadn’t meant to encroach on such an enormous and personal secret; he’d just wanted a gift for... “I was trying to take a picture of Dandelion to give to this guy at school that I like.”

“Oh yeah?” Jaskier smiles, leading Geralt into the warmth of the green room. The shorter boy takes a seat on a very comfortable looking couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Come sit, I don’t bite.”

The nervous senior lowers himself onto the couch as if he’s afraid it might come alive and eat him. His ass is perched on the very edge; ready to take flight at any moment if necessary. “It was going to be a gift for him. His name is uh, it’s Jaskier.”

“What?”

“I thought you were busy tonight,” Geralt gestures vaguely towards the wig, “Although I didn’t think it would be anything like this. Since you couldn’t be here with me, I was going to take a one-of-a-kind candid picture of Dandelion as a gift for you.” 

“That’s incredibly sweet, Geralt,” the pop-star croons, placing a casual hand on his classmate’s knee. Geralt is very, very close to swooning (which he will never admit out loud). 

“Am I going to be in trouble?”

“No. Probably not. Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I’d never do anything to hurt you or break your trust, Jask.”

The young pop icon smiles, ducks his head, and blushes. Geralt has never been happier before in his entire fucking life.

---

Dandelion has a show two towns over the following weekend. Jaskier gives Geralt a free ticket (complete with a backstage pass) and begs him to come along and see some kind of ‘cool surprise’. The senior is flabbergasted, holding the laminated papers in his hands as if they’re the holy grail. 

They might as well be.

---

“So I’ve got a new album coming out,” Dandelion announces towards the end of his set. “And since you’ve been such a wonderful and rowdy crowd, I think you deserve a sneak peek. What do you think?”

The audience’s response is nearly deafening. Geralt’s chest is being crushed against a black metal barrier by a wave of other giddy teens but he doesn’t give a shit. He wants to be as close to the stage as possible; he could wake up from this dream at any moment and he really wants to enjoy it until then.

“This one is for my homecoming date,” Dandelion states. He shoots a quick wink in Geralt’s direction and the senior’s heart stops rather suddenly in his chest. 

Jaskier is waiting for him to answer. To give him the affirmative. To reassure him that his declaration has been met with with agreement. 

Geralt nods subtly and watches the pop star’s beautiful, bright blue eyes light up with joy. “Alright!”

The beat picks up quickly and Dandelion is lost to the music. After every few words he glances surreptitiously in Geralt’s direction and the white-haired high schooler realizes rather suddenly how exciting this really is. A fucking millionaire pop star is masquerading as a regular kid at his high school. The kid he’s had a quiet crush on for quite some time. A kid that likes him back. Dandelion starts to sing and Geralt is jolted out of his thoughts by the pointed lyrics. 

“Smooth-talking. So rocking. He's got everything that a guy's wanting. Guitar cutie, He plays it groovy; And I can't keep myself from doing something stupid...”

---

When the show is over and Geralt is alone with Jaskier/Dandelion backstage, the younger boy steps forward and reaches out tentatively. Geralt takes his hand and twines their fingers together comfortably. Confidently. “So, would you perhaps be interested in being my boyfriend?”

“Which one of you?” Geralt teases.

“Both. You  might be in some tabloids. Gay celebrities are, unfortunately, still kind of a novelty. Especially young ones.”

“This isn’t fair,” Geralt whispers. 

“What’s not fair?” Jaskier replies, sounding panicked. Geralt pulls Jaskier and releases their clasped hands to embrace him tightly.  

“How am I supposed to impress you with a cool prom-posal if you ask me to homecoming like that?” he grumbles, “It’s not fair. I’m not a rich, hot pop star. At best you’re getting a public display of devotion and affection and at worst you’re getting dinner from McDonald’s.”

“You think I’m hot!?” Jaskier giggles, the rest of the context only slightly less important somehow. His fingers grip the front of Geralt’s shirt and the older boy barely resists the urge to shudder. He’s never really been this close to someone before and he really likes it. Especially since it’s Jaskier. Then the younger boy shocks him again by going off on a tangential monologue.“You’re insane if you think I’m the hot one in this potential relationship! You have the softest looking naturally white hair I’ve ever seen. Your shoulders are fucking beautiful and if you murdered me by suffocating me with your pecs then I would die a very happy guy.”

When Jaskier looks up into Geralt’s face he sees that the older boy is blushing furiously and desperately trying to avoid any kind of eye contact. His hand on Jaskier’s waist twitches anxiously. Aw, he’s shy! 

“I can’t wait for homecoming,” Geralt finally mutters. 

“I can’t wait for you to shut up and kiss me.”

“Really?”

Jaskier, the international pop star and millionaire, leans up onto the tips of his bedazzled converse and smiles. “Yeah. I would really like it if you kissed me.”

Geralt, the shy high school senior with an interest in photojournalism, presses their lips together slowly. Jaskier’s hand finds its way into Geralt’s hair and tangles there comfortably. Geralt’s hand squeezes against the younger man’s soft, slender hip. He lets himself feel a touch of velvet-soft skin here and there as Jaskier’s shirt rides up or moves along with them.

They stay wrapped up in each other like that until Dandelion’s manager knocks on the door. He calls through the door. “Well you’re going to have to sign some paperwork if you want to be his boyfriend for real.”

Jaskier bites his lip and looks at Geralt with nervous anticipation written across his face. 

Geralt smiles and pulls Jaskier close again. “Where’s the pen?”