Chapter Text
"You should leave."
Jaskier looked up quickly from where he was writing lyrics.
"I beg your pardon?"
Geralt wasn't looking at him, eyes facing the adjacent side of the hut.
"Leave for Oxenfurt...or Redania. Find that Prince you fucked."
Jaskier felt his stomach lurch.
How did he know about that?
Clearing his throat, he shoved his booklet into his coat.
"I'm not sure what you're playing at Geralt, but I've no intention of leaving."
He was still facing away.
"You're wasting your time here. I'm sure the noble could provide you with many adventures."
The words came out sardonically and snappish.
Jaskier felt whiplash at the statement.
"We enjoyed our time together. Until afterwards." He mumbled the last part, feeling the same dreg of anger at Radovid come to the forefront. Even if he had apologized, it hadn't changed what he'd done.
What Jaskier hoped he wouldn't do.
He wasn't looking to marry the man, but a romance that was his, where he wasn't pining and panting after someone who would never love him, well, it would've been nice.
"Cut from the same cloth, I bet you did." Geralt growled.
Jaskier furrowed his eyebrows.
"And just what do you mean by that?"
Silence.
"You've no right to judge me based on my dalliances, Geralt."
How had the conversation come to this point?
"Dalliance?" Geralt asked, eyes finally turning to Jaskiers.
The brunette looked sideways, being pinned under the weight of those eyes had always been too much for him.
"Where did you learn this anyway?"
Silence.
The dryads were little gossipers then.
"You cared for him." Geralt grit out.
Jaskier pinched his lips together, feeling as if this were an interrogation.
Silence.
Sighing loudly, Jaskier turned his gaze back to the Witcher.
"It felt nice. With him, I felt I was actually being seen. He learned my songs, even if knowing them was just for nefarious reasons. I-I was... lonely. Being back in the thick of this isn't always easy."
Geralt took in his expression his nostrils flaring.
"It used to be."
Jaskier blanched.
That was before Yennefer was everywhere.
He couldn't blame Geralt and Yennefer for their feelings for each other. But, it wasn't easy to always have it in his face.
"Age tends to change things." He murmured, hoping the other man believed the lie.
Geralt grunted.
Guess not.
Jaskier felt the tension in the room thicken.
"Had I known you went for poncey little Princes, I would have left you at a royal court to do their bidding long ago."
Knashing his teeth together, Jaskier stood up in a furious flourish.
"I don't know why you're being such a bloody bastard to me, but I'm not your punching bag, Geralt! Those days are over! Do you understand me?"
The Witchers eyes flashed and he pulled himself up into a piteous representation of sitting up.
"Fuck you."
Jaskier hissed.
"Fuck me? Fuck you." He fired back at Geralt.
What was happening right now? Why was Geralt behaving this way?
The two of them stared each other down.
"I don't know how you can sit there and have the bleeding audacity to berate me over a potential partner."
The golden eyes narrowed.
"Meaning?" He hissed.
Jaskier felt the anger start to build higher and higher.
"You have your great romance! Yennefer! Your sweet little family! Then there's me, who you tossed away like yesterdays porridge!"
Geralt moved to get up, but hissed at the pain.
"Don't do that, you idiotic lump of a man!" Jaskier chided him, moving to shove him back.
Geralt pushed him away, catching his breath to gather himself to his feet.
"Yennefer healed me, I told you that." He snapped, flinging his cane away.
Jaskier watched him sway, but he rolled his shoulders, catching himself.
"But we both know your leg is still giving you trouble, Geralt."
The Witcher glared.
"Easy to leave then, huh? Just like you did on the mountain."
Jaskiers jaw dropped, feeling his balance shift at the fury that ran through him.
"You have the unmitigated, bleeding gall to say that to me? You blame me!?" He yelled.
Geralt scowled, looking away from him in what seemed like shame.
Suddenly... it all made sense.
"You're jealous." Jaskier whispered.
The Witcher moved to leave the hut but Jaskier grabbed his arm to halt him.
Geralt growled.
"How in all the hells are you jealous? You have never expressed anything regarding romantic affections towards me. Ever."
"All those women you were constantly fucking was supposed to tell me otherwise?" Geralt replied sarcastically.
Jaskier threw his hands up in frustration.
"You could've asked me!"
Geralt said nothing as the other man set his hands down upon the bedding of the cot.
"You have got to be the most stubborn, burlish lout I have ever met in my existence upon this earth."
Silence.
"You have no idea how I fe-."
But he stopped himself, the words clogging his throat.
The truth he had figured long long ago. And had told no-one, not Vespula, not the Countess, nobody.
Yennefer had probably guessed after hearing his song in the tavern, but said nothing in reference to it.
Thank the Gods.
"I don't want to continue this conversation further. If you want me to fucking leave so badly, I'll leave. And I'll go back to Radovid and suck his cock in his pretty little throne room. Would that make you happy, Geralt?" He snarled, shoving past him to leave, when a hand clamped over his wrist...