Work Text:
Like the numerous other ‘necessities’ (luxuries) Jaskier was gobsmacked Geralt hadn’t partaken in, Geralt simply didn’t see how movies were supposed to fit into his life. They were for ordinary people. Humans who wanted to witness magic and adventure while remaining blind to the realities of either. Sure, he’d occasionally catch the end of something in a motel room while he was sharpening his swords or cleaning his gun, but they were always background noise and - if he was honest - looked a little bit shit.
“Well of course they are!” Jaskier exclaimed when Geralt explains this, “Straight-to-TV free-view movies aren’t going to be good. You know what? We’re fixing this. You’re coming over to my place after your next contract and we are going to have a Disney night.”
Geralt has learnt, since he met Jaskier, that it's sometimes better to indulge him than to argue. At the very least he’ll get a free take-out from it.
Jaskier’s apartment is different from the one he lived in when they first met. He’s found fame now, sings his songs to stadiums packed tight with people. When they’re out and about he dons Gucci branded sunglasses to stop himself getting noticed.
(He still wears crappy Primark converse when they’re out in the wildness on contracts, and Geralt is pretty sure one of these days it's going to cost him a broken ankle but he’s given up trying to get him to invest in better shoes)
This new apartment of Jaskier’s is bigger, but it’s still so Jaskier; that odd eclectic mix of anything Jaskier finds vaguely pleasing; sequin pillows, unicorn ornaments, replacers of various ancient statues and every musical instrument he can get his hands on - from a grand piano that takes up half the living room to the mini brightly painted ukulele’s he has lined up in the kitchen.
(This apartment also has a spare room just for Geralt. Geralt pretends that that doesn’t touch him - that Jaskier bought an apartment with all his money and filled it with all his favourite things and then carved out a space in there just for Geralt)
So the apartment is bigger, but Jaskier still manages to make it seem much like his old one. This is particularly true when he’s building pillow forts out of old quilts his grandma made him and telling Geralt off when he accidentally bumps his head on the ‘ceiling’ (a pink knitted blanket) and everything comes crashing down.
Eventually, they settle. The first movie they watch Geralt can’t say he particularly appreciates. ‘Tangled’, it’s called, though its a retelling of an ancient fairy tale even Geralt remembers from his childhood (and Geralt is old). Still, Jaskier’s voice is nice to listen to as he sings along to each of the songs and Geralt finds himself relaxing. He needed this, after the last contract. A night in with Jaskier. Something easy. Simple. Take his mind off the sprain in his leg and the screams of the woman he wasn’t able to save.
The movie ends just as the pizza arrives. Jaskier cues up another movie ‘Lilo and Stitch’ it appears to be called but pauses it as he crawls out of the fort in order to tip the pizza guy and find them some snacks for after they’ve eaten their dinner.
“This one was my favourite as a kid,” Jaskier winks, “It came out when I was...God, maybe eleven or twelve? No, thirteen, I remember because I had this awful friend who said that teenagers were too old to go and see Disney movies...anyway, it was my favourite,” he grins and presses play, settling down and tucking into his pizza.
The movie starts off with some sort of alien spaceship, and Geralt readies himself to not really enjoy this one either. It’s just another stupid animated kids movie. He doesn’t think Jaskier is going to win this battle to turn him into a movie person.
Less than an hour in, he’s captivated.
He doesn’t understand it. Why would this little girl risk everything for this mutant freak she’s found? She could be taken away from the last of her family - and he’s clearly not helping her be less of a social outcast. He’s nothing but a danger to her and her life. And yet. And yet she wants to help him. He doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand it at all.
But the blue mutant - Stitch - is part of her family, she keeps saying. She says so proudly. She says so even when people try and warn her away from him. She says so even when he hurts her with his actions or his minimal words. In the end, it’s not really a big surprise that Stitch comes to save her, because even if he was built to destroy, she saw something more in him.
The movie ends with a jolly song (that Jaskier, of course, is humming along to) and a collection of photos that show the family all happy together.
Geralt feels wetness on his cheeks and he doesn’t know where it’s coming from. Blanket forts don’t get leaks.
“Whoa, hey, whoa,” Jaskier has looked over at him, and the happy smile he was wearing minutes has disappeared into alarmed shock. At what? Geralt thinks as he glances around for some kind of threat. Only he’s finding it a little hard to see, actually, everything is blurry and--
“Hey, hey, come here,” Jaskier murmurs in the soothing voice he uses to speak to children when they’re out on contracts and oh.
Oh.
He only realises when he’s already being pulled into Jaskier’s arms that he is crying.
What the fuck?
He hasn’t cried in-- he’s not sure he’s cried in years. Why would he? And yet, here he is, in a blanket fort, credits to some dumb movie rolling, and he’s sobbing into Jaskier’s arms as Jaskier holds him close, strokes fingers through his hair, tells him it’s going to be alright.
Has anyone else ever said that to him in his life?
It’s such a jarring, sudden feeling, all of this. And he doesn’t really understand why. It was the movie. The damn movie. It just...hit a little too close to home.
“What’s wrong, dear heart?” Jaskier asks later - much later, once Geralt has stopped crying. He’s still holding Geralt, still stroking fingers through his hair, still looking after him, just like he always does. He doesn’t sound teasing, he never does when it’s something serious.
“It’s...nothing,” Geralt mutters, finally. He can feel his cheeks heating. Fuck, what was that? A man like him crying at something so stupid--
“It clearly wasn’t nothing, because it upset you. Was it-- something I did?” And he sounds almost nervous, despite the fact that all Jaskier did - all he’s ever done - is invite Geralt into his space and try and make him happy and comfortable by doing things with him Geralt has spent a lifetime (and then some) convincing himself he doesn’t deserve.
“No,” Geralt grunts, then, awkwardly, “Just...Lilo risked a lot for a mutated freak built to destroy, didn’t she?” He winced. He doesn’t want to say it. He hopes Jaskier will just get it.
And because Jaskier is Jaskier and he’s the best thing that’s happened to Geralt in decades, Jaskier does.
“Oh,” he breathes in realisation. After a moment he leans forward, pressing his lips to Geralt’s forehead, “I’m certain that she thinks that, ah, Stitch was worth all that bother. They’re family, after all. Ohana and all that jazz, hm?”
Family.
He probably should have released Jaskier thought of him as family.
“And...Lilo was pretty alone, before she had Stitch in her life. I think that they were both better for each other, don’t you?”
“Hmm,” Geralt tucks himself closer to Jaskier, breathes him in and wonders how he ever got so lucky to have someone like Jaskier thinking there was something good in him worth sticking around for.