cowt 10 S6 M1: what's in a (pet) name? (the witcher, geralt/jaskier, pg13)

[janie_tangerine]

 It's months after Jaskier starts testing the waters when he decides to... well. Not make a move because there's no way he'll jeopardize the aforementioned months of carefully testing the waters - he knows that considering the level of Geralt's emotional constipation he can't just barge in and flirt like he would with most other people -, but... well. He had thought that maybe it was time to see if the man at least would be amenable to consider... relationships in general. Admittedly, he has no idea, but Geralt certainly doesn't discuss that and Jaskier has been around with him enough to know why he wouldn't nor why he wouldn't consider opening up with... pretty much anyone. He remembers the first time they got thrown stones at in a town where they didn't exactly think his songs were a hit even too well. So, he had figured he'd make himself a list and see where it went, because there was really no way to beat around the bush - he's whipped and he had been the moment he had seen the idiot brooding in the corner in Pesada. No point in denying himself that.

 

The list, until now, had consisted of, roughly: sticking around and not minding Geralt's obvious ineptness at dealing with the fact that someone was actually sticking around, ignoring Geralt's objections (that were obviously a test, he got it the first time around) to his sticking around, then when he was sure Geralt wouldn't just shrug him off with the usual I don't need it or witchers don't do luxuries nonsense he'd make sure to pay for baths along with inn rooms and so on, and now that they're at the point where Geralt won't object if Jaskier offers to clean up his hair he thinks that maybe throwing around the question won't hurt. He just wants to see if he has a chance in hell, after all.

 

"So," he clears his throat one evening, having just rinsed Geralt's now clean, soft white hair, and damn how he wishes the man would just take care of it somewhat decently, "I was wondering."

 

"What?" Geralt says after he doesn't go on for a bit. It didn't sound particularly annoyed. Right on.

 

"This is a very broad question, but I was just curious, no need to answer if you don't want to -" Jaskier starts, having learned that giving the man a way out is always a good bet.

 

"Just get on with it, won't you?"

 

Jaskier clears his throat, leans down, puts his elbows on the rim of the tub. "How do you feel about pet names?"

 

Now, Jaskier had already put into account that Geralt might tell him to fuck off, refuse to answer or just hum his way out of it.

 

He hadn't put into account that Geralt's pretty golden eyes would widen in... sort of confusion.

 

"Pet names," he replies, sounding... not exactly sure of what he's talking about.

 

"Uh, yeah," Jaskier prompts.

 

Geralt seems to actually think about it for a moment.

 

Jaskier would like to know why he'd be thinking about it.

 

He had thought it was a relatively straightforward question that would be good to determine how to move next, because if Geralt said they weren't a thing he liked he certainly wasn't going to start calling him dear to make him get a hint.

 

Then Geralt shrugs. "Well, you have to call them something. But for me it's either Roach or nothing," he finally answers.

 

What.

 

The -

 

"Uhm," Jaskier says, "what do you mean with, either Roach or nothing?"

 

Geralt shrugs again. "I've been around a long time." He pauses, not quite looking at Jaskier in the eye. "Horses don't live forever." He doesn't say anything more, and are his cheeks turning redder, shit, he's blushing, and that wasn't -

 

Wait a moment.

 

Horses don't -

 

"You mean," Jaskier says, "that you called Roach every mare you've had?"

 

Geralt shrugs, not denying it. He's still not looking his way.

 

Now, the entire spiel is most likely sad on more than one level, starting with the fact that Geralt has apparently no idea that pet names can not mean... actual pet names for animals and going on with the glaring other fact that he's given the same name to all of his horses which at this point Jaskier assumes all looked alike, which then has to mean that the one reason he'd do it would be to let himself pretend that they're actually the same and - and actually that's such a Geralt thing that he's nowhere near surprised that he'd say that.

 

But -

 

It probably says a lot that the complete straightforwardness with which Geralt just went and said such a fucking sad thing makes Jaskier forget all of his carefully laid plans, move to the side of the tub, gently put a hand under Geralt's chin so he has to look at him -

 

"That," he says, "was the sweetest damned thing I've ever heard," and then he completely throws caution to the wind, leans forward and kisses that damned confused frown off Geralt's face, and for a moment he's sure Geralt is going to shove him away but then he - he sighs into it and parts his lips and his wet hands touch Jaskier's neck tentatively and fuck that, Jaskier puts both hands around his face and kisses him harder and when they move apart Geralt is looking at him like he can't believe that happened, and that's just -

 

They should talk about it.

 

He also knows that the moment he tries to, Geralt is most likely going back to not answering him.

 

That can happen some other time.

 

"But," he says, "I actually meant a different kind of pet names."

 

"... Is there one?" Geralt blinks, and - Jaskier really needs to write some ballad to turn his current homicidal instincts into some kind of catharsis because the fact that Geralt got to however many years he has without knowing that is just - never mind. He'll write angry ballads later.

 

"Yeah, well, I meant the kind of pet names you use for your significant other, not your.. actual pets."

 

Geralt's eyes widen slightly.

 

"For instance," Jaskier goes on, "if now I started calling you darling, that would be one."

 

He doesn't miss how Geralt shudders in a good way the moment he says that.

 

"Uh," he says, "I - I mean, I don't really do -" He starts, still not looking at him.

 

"I never said," Jaskier replies, "that you had to call me one, love.”

 

And then he just kisses him again because there's only so much he can take after the months he spent pining, moaning a little when Geralt kisses him back, tentatively at first and not so much later. He can worry about what other pet names to go with later, because now he’s going to make sure Geralt gets the damned point.

 

--

 

"Wait, wait wait."

 

Jaskier absolutely doesn't like the way this Triss Merigold is looking at the both of them - and to think that until now he thought she was a lovely girl, for being a witch, and he had been there thinking that hey, at least Geralt did have some... acquaintances if not friends who didn't treat him like he carried some kind of disease, but they had been telling her how they got together and Geralt had grunted his way through the pet names story, and -

 

"You said that? You have to call them something? Good gods, Geralt, your bard really is moronsexual," she says, half-laughing, and fine, Jaskier usually would call out people saying that but she obviously doesn't mean so he supposes it's harmless teasing, and then Geralt just looks at her, very intently -

 

"You know, you could avoid calling him a moron," he says, immediately before not looking at her anymore.

 

Triss's mouth falls open. Then she closes it. Then she opens it again.

 

"Oh," Jaskier says, trying to not laugh himself, because this is just too damn surreal, "I think she was calling you one, darling, but don't think I'm not finding it adorable that you decided to correct her when you thought she was insulting me."

 

Geralt mutters something completely incomprehensible and Jaskier lets it go.

 

For now.

 

"But we're definitely talking later about how I'm absolutely sure you wouldn't have said a thing if you thought she was talking about you," he whispers in Geralt's ear a moment later, as he stands up to go get them more drinks, "love."


End.