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Geralt had found him, he had even apologized on his knees. Jaskier might have shed a tear or two and forgave him. They were traveling together again. Bantering lightly and sharing the fire.
But it was the kiss.
The kiss that had to ruin it everything.
The stars were out, their bellies warm with roasted hare. They had been talking softly, trading stories about constellations. Jaskier got relaxed and maybe that was his mistake.
"That constellations is called Farting Bear."
"You're shitting me!" Jaskier laughed. "I can't believe you're shitting me!"
When the laughter died down, Jaskier saw the amused smirk on Geralt, and sighed happily. "Okay, what's that one then?" he said pointing at the sky at random.
He laid back against the log, and rested his head against Geralt's shoulder.
See, that was probably Jaskier's mistake.
"Geralt?" he inquired when the witcher didn't answer him. Jaskier turned to look at him, and his words froze in his throat for the way he was looking at him.
"The loyal bard," Geralt said, his eyes burning into Jaskier's.
"Geralt?"
But the witcher didn't answer, instead raised a hand towards his cheek. A thumb caressing the corners of his eyes. "They're like the sky," he said, and then leaned forward.
Rough lips touched his in the softest kiss he had ever received.
For one glorious second, Jaskier kissed back. Lost in what he had so desired.
But then, the action clicked into Jaskier's brain and he couldn't breath. He moved back, scared.
"Jaskier?" there was concern in Geralt's face and it was too much for Jaskier.
"We can't. I can't. Geralt, I-"
Jaskier saw every brick as the wall behind Geralt's eyes gor erected again. "I see. I'm sorry."
Jaskier felt hysterical. "You see? This is why we can't. We just- I just got you back and-" he was having trouble breathing. "You're going to push me away again," he said looking at the fire, hoping it would grow and consume him.
"Jaskier."
"No, please, don't. Let's pretend nothing happened tonight, and tomorrow you can walk away. I won't follow."
"Jaskier, what are you saying."
"Don't make me leave again, please."
Understanding crossed Geralt's face, and a window was opened in the wall.
"I won't leave you, Jaskier. I won't make that mistake again, I thought that was clear."
"No, it's not true. You'll push me away sooner or later."
"I won't."
"You will. You already have gone all stony, you're already- for fuck's sake, Geralt, we're not even friends and you want to complicate things further."
Geralt's eyes became steel.
"We are friends."
"No, we're not. We barely got back to travel companions."
Geralt began to move, intending to go to his knees again. Jaskier let out a high-pitched noise.
"What the fuck? It's okay, you apologized, I forgave you. And we're back to what we were before. Travel companions. It's alright. I'm not- I won't pretend we're something we're not."
Geralt went to his knees anyway.
"I screwed up further than I thought. We- you're my friend, Jaskier. The truest friend I ever had. And I am sorry that I was such a shit friend I never let you know. But I will make up for that. I promise you."
"Don't," Jaskier begged.
"Please, don't. You'll get scared again, you'll get back to that stony witcher fort in your head and you'll leave me out. I- I don't want to lose you again."
"I won't."
"But you did. You did after- after I broke the kiss. You were going all unreachable again."
Geralt look down.
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright. Just- just let's not- let's not complicate things further. We're good travel companions. Let's leave it at that please."
Geralt hummed, then nodded.
As the fire died out, they went to sleep in silence.
Geralt ignore the salt smell coming from Jaskier. Neither of them slept well that night.
Come morning, Jaskier smiled and chatted, but Geralt could see the hollowness in his eyes.
They continued traveling together.
~*~
If Jaskier noticed that Geralt would leave him the warmest blankets, the biggest portions of food, he said nothing. Probably pretended away all the little kindness that Geralt bestowed upon him.
They didn't stop coming though.
Until war broke out and a princess had to be found.
"Please, remain safe. And meet me at Flotsam. Please."
In that moment, as their paths were about to diverge, Geralt did not hide the desperation in his face.
"I will, don't worry."
Geralt came reached hesitantly to him, and when Jaskier didn't move away, he hugged him.
There was more he wanted, but Jaskier was already tense enough.
"I'll see you," Geralt determined when they broke apart.
"We-" Jaskier begun, a confession on the point of his tongue. "Be careful," he backtracked.
Geralt didn't master to hide the pained look before nodding.
They wouldn't see each other again for months, and when they did. When the lute sounds guided him to the tavern he was at, Geralt couldn't stop himself and hugged Jaskier.
The bard tensed briefly before returning the hug.
It was progress.
"Are you Geralt's friend? Jaskier?" Ciri asked when the bard finally saw him.
Geralt sent him a look, to not complicate things further with Ciri, already a traumatized kid.
"Yes, that's me," he said, his voice trembling slightly.
That night, safe in the inn's room, Ciri asleep in the other bed. "Don't think I didn't notice what you did to make me admit we're friends."
"So it's admit now, isn't it?" Geralt smirked.
"You bastard," Jaskier hissed but there was no heat in his voice.
"I- I'm still not ready though. For more."
"I know. I'll wait. I know, I know there's more I have to repair."
Jaskier inhaled shakingly. "It scares me."
"I know, I'm sorry."
"Won't you get bored of waiting?" Jaskier asked weakly.
"You waited for me for twenty-two years. I can wait another twenty-two for you if needed, or more."
"But what if I'm never ready?"
"I don't care. Not if you remain at my side."
Jaskier exhaled, salt in the air again.
"Please, come to Kaer Morhen with me."
Jaskier nodded.
That night, they slept clinging to each other, and if that blurred the lines, well, they had never been conventional people.
~*~
It was Lambert, strangely the one who brought things to a head.
"Why aren't you two fucking?" he asked Jaskier.
Okay, maybe not so strangely.
"What?"
"I can smell the longing. And I know Geralt, he wouldn't have brought you if he wasn't intending to fuck you sooner or later."
"We're not like that."
"Sure, and I'm a bloody drowner."
"Come on, you're prettier than that."
"Don't change topics."
"It's not your business," Jaskier said, changing tactics.
"It is when I have to deal with Geralt moping around like a pathetic puppy all over the place. He clearly wants to. And I can smell it on you. So why aren't you fucking him?"
"We're barely friends."
"Don't have to be friends to fuck."
"I- We-"
"You're clearly out of excuses, so out with it."
"And what the fuck do you care?" Jaskier asked, suddenly angry.
"Okay, listen to me, you overdressed peacock. Geralt is my brother and if some piece of tail makes him suffer, they're gonna have to deal with me. So out with it."
"Because he pushed me away, you fucking snooper. He got too scared of his own feelings and threw me away like a used rag!"
"Like you're doing right now?"
"Fuck you!" Jaskier slapped him.
His hand then hurt, but he barely hissed before following in his rant. "I'm here, aren't I? I'm not- I'm not going around pretending I can't tolerate him and acting as if not walking away was the greatest gesture of kindness!"
"Funny, because to me, that's exactly what you're doing."
"He did it for twenty-two years. I- I- it's been only months."
"So you're keeping him at arms length because you don't want to get hurt. Aren't you supposed to be a fucking poet? Don't you see the fucking poetic irony of it?"
"He hurt me first," Jaskier said pathetically.
"And you think that he wasn't hurt before? That is not why he acted exactly like you're doing right now?"
"I know that, you idiot. Do you truly think that witchers have the monopoly on abandonment issues? Why do you think an 18-year-old was so keen on following a witcher if he didn't have anything to lose?"
"So you're just gonna keep repeating the cycle?"
"Haven't you heard? I didn't. I moved on from the pain. Managed to do it for over two decades. But I can't, not anymore."
Lambert hummed. "So you're just gonna let it be a sad story."
"I'm doing what I can."
"Well, it's not enough."
"Fuck you."
"Nah, I'm not Geralt."
Jaskier glared at him.
~*~
But even when afterwards he ignored the youngest witcher, Lambert's words stayed with Jaskier.
Did he truly want to perpetuate the cycle?
Eventually, one night, he knocked on Geralt's door.
"Can I come in?"
"Of course. What's the matter?"
"I'm scared. I'm scared shitless. But I'm tired. I'm tired of wanting you."
Geralt's eyes widened, afraid. "Jaskier, what do you mean?"
"That I want you, you fucking asshole," he cried. "I love you, and I'm tired of pretending otherwise. So if- so if this ends in my heart broken beyond repair, I don't longer care."
Geralt took Jaskier's face in his hands, cleaned softly the tears. "I won't do that."
"Don't make me promises. I don't want promises. Just kiss me."
"I can do that."
This time the kiss lasted. And maybe, it wasn't as romantic as the first one.
Jaskier was crying into it, and it was a dark room with no stars out. But it was still perfect. It was a resolution. And despite Jaskier's intent, it was a promise. A promise of trying.
"Can I say it?" Geralt asked when they broke apart.
Jaskier nodded.
"I love you too."
But even so, the stars shone in the sky, overseeing it all with joy. For the true star, the Loyal Bard, was finally happy.
On Earth however, the bard groaned.
"Lambert's gonna be so smug."
Geralt tightened his hold on his bard. "Don't worry, I'll put snow in his pants."
Jaskier laughed. "This is why I love you."
It was easier now, to admit it.
"I love you too."
And to hear it as well.