Chapter Text
“--latest breakup.”
Geralt comes in from a long shift, feeling dead on his feet. He wants to take a shower and sleep for a year, although he’s too aware he has to cook dinner first and make sure Ciri has finished all her homework. She’s a good kid, smart in ways he never was and she excels at academics, but she’s at that age when you tend to prioritize friends and gossip over actual school work.
“Ciri,” he calls as he closes the door after him. “The TV is too loud.”
“Sorry!” comes her response, followed by giggles that tell him she’s not alone. Geralt sighs: he has a rule about not having people over when he’s not home, but he’s never been good at enforcing it and in any case he trusts Ciri not to do anything stupid.
“Is Dara staying for dinner?” he asks as he walks into the living room, leaning against the entrance. He smiles fondly at his daughter and her friend, who are watching the TV, leaning close and arguing with each other about whatever the TV’s presenter is saying. Geralt rolls his eyes, figuring he’ll take that as a yes and just when he’s about to head for the kitchen, he makes the mistake of glancing at the TV.
It’s unfair, how devastatingly handsome Jaskier manages to look every time he sees him. There are a couple of extra wrinkles in the corner of his eyes, dark circles underneath that not even a professional makeup artist can cover apparently and his hair is a long greasy mess, but somehow he’s still the most handsome man Geralt has ever seen.
(He might be a little biased though)
“--must have been rough,” the presenter is saying, expression sympathetic although there’s a glint in her eye that betrays a certain eagerness.
“I mean… sure,” Jaskier says, smile small and defeated. “But you know, sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t and you’ve just got to…” his lip quivers, eyes bright with unshed tears and he leans back on his seat, looks upwards, takes a deep breath and looks at the presenter once more. “You just got to carry on. As you know I’m in the middle of a Continent tour-- a very successful Continent tour I must add--” It’s very clear he means to change the subject, to avoid discussing… a breakup? but it’s also clear the presenter has no interest in dropping the juicy subject just yet.
“Must be though, handling all those concerts with a broken heart, sing all those love songs--”
“Well, yes, but I’m a performer and--”
“--was your longest relationship ever!” the presenter interrupts and Geralt holds back a low growl. Can’t the woman see how the subject is making Jaskier uncomfortable? Doesn’t she care? “It lasted… what, one year and a half?”
“Fifteen months,” Jaskier replies tersely with a forced smile. “Still, nothing ever lasts forever and--”
“Fifteen months!” the presenter exclaims and Geralt hears Ciri murmur something unpleasant about her, which normally he’d chide her for, but this time he can’t help quietly agreeing. “A true record! Was that your longest relationship ever?”
Jaskier pursues his lips, clearly unhappy with the direction the interview is taking. It can’t be pleasant, to have your heart flagged on screen, for the whole world to see. Break ups are hard enough, even when they’re for the best (Geralt would know) and the presenter is being truly nasty. It’s her job, of course, it’s a gossip show, but--
“Actually, no,” Jaskier replies after a brief pause, all pleasant smiles once more, but his posture is guarded, arms and legs crossed, back stiff. “My longest relationship ever was fifteen years ago and we were together three years,” he explains and Geralt’s heart does something funny in his chest. “It was also the first time I got my heart broken, but I’m thankful for it all the same. It taught me a lot, the main thing being you don’t die of heartbreak and it’ll pass. It sucks in the meantime and some days it feels like it’s the end of the world, but sooner or later, you get over it.”
It feels like someone has punched the air out of him. Ciri and Dara are now talking among themselves excitedly, discussing this new piece of information and the presenter looks both thrilled by the revelation and taken aback, a little unsure of where to go from there. Geralt figures he’s heard enough and retreats to the kitchen in a rush, his heart beating madly inside his chest.
Three years, except it was closer to four. Wonderful years all the same, some of the happiest of Geralt’s life. And he made a right mess out of it, letting his ghosts get the best of him, throwing it all away in a heartbeat. He left one night (after a very nasty fight) and never looked back.
He still thinks it was for the best. Jaskier was always meant for bigger, better things than their small town with their small minded people. He deserved better than beaten and broken down Geralt. He was a star and he was always destined to shine.
You don’t die of heartbreak and you really don’t, but it’s entirely possible a part of you does. And Geralt handled the break up terribly, there are a hundred things he wished he could have done differently but it’s too late of course. And he always knew he had hurt Jaskier, but somehow it still comes as a surprise to hear it out loud and on TV, no less.
It’s hard to believe that, fifteen years and several partners later, Jaskier still remembers him. That after all that people and all that time, he still thinks of Geralt, even if probably not in a fond way. He’d have thought--
He shakes his head, telling himself to focus on dinner. There’s no use in going down that rabbit hole, no use in losing himself in painful memories of a time long gone. He had loved Jaskier, he had hurt Jaskier. Nothing to do about it now and all the regrets in the world aren’t worth shit.
Sooner or later you get over it, Jaskier’s voice repeats in his head.
Do you? Geralt wonders.
Against his better judgment, Geralt goes googling Jaskier’s name.
He doesn’t have to stroll down, the very first article that shows up tells him what he needs to know. The guy he had been dating, an actor by the name of Radovid, had broken up with him on a fucking instagram post.
Gods, fifteen years later and he still knows how to pick them, doesn’t he?
Here’s the thing: before being his boyfriend, Jaskier had been Geralt’s friend, which meant he had a front row seat to all his very messy, very shitty relationships. Jaskier always claimed he wasn’t looking for anything serious and so he always acted like he wasn’t hurt in the aftermath, but Geralt knew better: Jaskier was a romantic, a believer of true love and yet, somehow, he managed to find every heartless asshole in their town and date them.
Including Geralt, of course.
The next article takes him down the timeline of every one of Jaskier’s relationships in the last fifteen years. None of them lasted longer than five months, except for this last one, where rumors of a marriage proposal had been running wild for months apparently before the would-be fiancé had shut them down with an instagram post, stating they were over.
Geralt bites his lip, staring at his ring finger. Once, a lifetime ago, Jaskier had made a weaved ring out of dandelions while they were on a picnic and slid the final product in Geralt’s finger. It hadn’t fit, Geralt’s finger was too wide for it and they had had a good laugh about it, but Geralt remembers the look in his friend’s face keenly and a pang of pain goes through him.
Gods.
Jaskier is the nicest, sweetest guy in the whole wide world and he deserves all the happiness: he deserves someone who will love him and cherish him, someone as good as himself.
Instead, he’s stuck with an endless list of assholes.
Life is so unfair sometimes.