I could be your barker!

Geralt listened intently, his brows raised at the statement, “You make it sound like you’re going into some shady business.” he noted. “But I guess every theatre student I’ve met so far has something a little shady about them.” He didn’t mean to come across so up himself at that, but Geralt always liked to push and test the waters with someone he’d be spending a lot of time around.  Geralt did, however, quirk his brow even higher as Jaskier spoke of snakes and classrooms, the expression his new room buddy had given him almost gave him goosebumps. He soon smiled in return, flashing his own toothy grin- who was he kidding? Geralt wouldn’t play tricks in such a way, he’d barely spoken to anyone thus far, and besides, if he were to fuck with someone it would be directly, every time. If anyone were to leave a snake in anyone’s belongings, it’d be his best friend, Yen.  “No, I’m not that scheming.” Geralt offered a smirk. “But since you seem so thrilled about it, I’m sure a snake in the bag can be arranged.” he further chuckled.  Geralt- being incredibly forward in such a way, stood up, “I might go to sleep soon. You’re not afraid of naked bodies are you?” 

Jaskier laughed sharply at the remark about theatre students being shady. It was a ridiculous statement, and the delivery was stoic and dry, teasing betrayed only by the softness in his eyes. 

He couldn’t stop the shiver of fear down his spine at the idea that Geralt might take his own idea and use it against him. He raised a finger, pointing at his roommate and ready to launch into Rant™, already formulating threats of getting a hoarde of singing freshmen to follow him around for a full twenty-four hours. “You’d better not--”

Then Geralt was rising and interrupting him, which, rude, but Jaskier forgot all about the students and the snakes because Geralt was implying that he slept naked. Gods above, he was not prepared for this. “If I was afraid of naked bodies, I wouldn’t have made it past my first dress rehearsal in high school,” he brushed him off. “As long as you don’t come back and get all pissy when you find out you disrobed in front of a queer man, sleep in whatever state of undress you like.” 

Geralt watched as Jaskier practically performed, his response being incredibly theatrical and expressive. It struck a chord within, to have such a stranger react in a way that warmed his heart- such enthusiasm, and optimism.  “Ah-hah…” Geralt mused, tilting his head forward, a smile to the side, “Real estate isn’t for everyone.” he ‘joked’. What else could he do but fail at humour entirely while succumbing to the distraction that was his roommate?  “So what are you doing then? Theatre?” Geralt quizzed, making an assumption by the aura of Jaskier, his eyes continued to gaze. “Trust that parents in sales disapprove of your expressive self, right?” he made a complete assumption. 

Geralt pursed his lips as he was asked the question, watching as his roommate leaned back. “A hellscape? Not so much for me… I’m the one who makes it a hellscape for others.” he chuckled along with his sentence, not entirely serious.  Geralt finally grew tired of holding his book, placing it down along with the marker, he sat up a bit more proper.  “I’m here for animal science.” Geralt confessed with a sigh, then leaned forward, supporting himself on his thighs via his elbows.  he wasn’t shy, by any means, refusing to avert his gaze at any point in time, and soon Jaskier would learn just how many fucks he really did give. 

Jaskier nodded his assent, exhaling sharply through his nose at the other’s assessment of his parents. He could see how people might be intimidated by the way Geralt’s gaze seemed to dissect you piece by piece, taking in everything there was to know, but Jaskier just felt seen. “Oh, of course. With the way I’m planning to live my life, I’ll be lucky to hold onto the family name until twenty.” His words spoke as if the name was something desirable, but his tone implied otherwise. He could almost hear his father’s voice as the words came out of his mouth, and his jaw gave an involuntary twitch at the reminder of everything horrible about “home” (no, this was his home now) his parent’s house. 

so I quit my job today oops. but I’ll receive a decent separation package and it’ll basically be documented as a lay off so I can apply for unemployment. *so*. that’s a thing.

I’ll be a bit more active, by which I mean actually roleplaying a little instead of just shitposting, but I’ve still got a lot of shit to do, just not shit that physically runs me into the ground.

Now in a perfect field of view, his eyes wandered over the lad’s form, studying the way he so chaotically entered the room, and the way he’d taken on his first words so confidently particularly piqued his interest. And on top of it all, that grin of his was utterly contagious. 

Geralt now sat up with intention, but not in a rushed manner, he still kept his book in hand, but his legs bent appropriately for balance with the way he sat.  “Jaskier…” he mused, “-at least you don’t seem the type to make bad trouble.” he drawled out, perhaps a little flirtatiously. 

“I’m Geralt,” he gestured with his free hand, his eyes never leaving Jaskier for a single moment as he watched on. Geralt found it somewhat endearing that Jaskier seemed to postpone his unpacking to talk to him, even if it would be for a minute or so. Even more so, his chest felt warm by the fact that at their first interaction it was as if they’d known each other for years. 

“So-” Geralt started, shuffling on the spot, “what brings you to the hellscape that is college?” 

Jaskier felt pinned by the other’s intense gaze. It made his pulse jump in his throat, but his expression remained bright and open. Gods, he was going to make a mess of this, wasn’t he? 

“The allure of learning, of course!” he declared in response, exaggeratedly laying his hand on his chest. He quickly dropped the act with a huff, his posture relaxing slightly for the first time since he entered the room. Yes, he did actually quite enjoy academia, but that wasn’t all. “That, and as long as I’m in school I don’t have to have the Big Fight with my parents about what it is I’m going to do with my life. I haven’t yet decided what that is, but it sure as hell isn’t real estate,” he spat out, glaring at a blank space of wall to Geralt’s right as he remembered the arguments they’d had just to allow Jaskier to have a second major of his own choosing. It wasn’t exactly his first choice; it was going to be a metric fuckton of work, but he was going to get that music degree if it killed him. He’d rather die than go into the family business, anyways. Shouldn’t have hedged all your bets on one kid. 

Geralt made sure he arrived early, he liked to prepare for things in advance, and he liked knowing that what little he had was in the most ideal spot in his new shared room. Every item of likeness would have its own place.  He made sure he arrived with his best friend, they both enjoyed exploring together, in every sense. There was an overwhelming homely and motherly feel to Yennefer, she had only ever supported him for his choices and his true self, in many ways, they were inseparable. And they both promised each other not to fall distant despite the fact they weren’t rooming together. 

Now laying belly down and legs splayed on the bed he’d chosen, Geralt read a book, his favourite one, for the millionth time around. He always had trouble trying new things, wanting to stick with the old and familiar.  The peace was interrupted, however, now quirking a brow and turning himself over to gaze at the intrusion. His roommate. Yen made it a huge point that if his new room buddy caused him any strife, she’d sort him out herself.  Geralt lowered the book away, shuffling to sit up against the head of the bed.  “Well well… you don’t look like trouble.” he mused, leaning forward, his thumb jammed between the pages of the book as it tried to close. 

His roommate was cute. 

Fuck. 

He was doomed.

Jaskier had gotten an eyeful of the man’s figure on his stomach like that, and oh that was going to be a difficult first impression to wipe from his brain. He almost thought he should apologize for forgetting his manners, and then the other was sassing him. At least, Jaskier was pretty sure that was sass and not just an outright insult. His jaw dropped at the audacity of his roommate to take one look at him and assume he couldn’t raise hell. 

Jaskier was late. Of course he was late. Listen, he just... he had a lot of things to take care of, alright? He’d procrastinated packing his belongings and sorting what he’d bring and what was going into storage, and honestly, he was going to miss the freedom of his own apartment. His own shower, too. This was his chance, though--he wanted the College Experience™, and part of that was living in a dorm. Even so, he’d spent all yesterday hauling things to storage, and several days before that bemoaning everything he was going to have to sacrifice while living in the tiny room.

“I am capable of washing myself.” he made it known, attempting to pull the bits and pieces of beast blood and guts from his hair, now reaching up to gently remove his waterlogged hair tie. It would have been easier to take out had Jaskier not dumped water over his head so soon.  The witcher didn’t mind having company while he bathed, but he played off that the bard’s attentive care was too much, despite low-key enjoying it, it wasn’t something Geralt would admit to himself just yet. 

“And you’re capable of feeding yourself, too, and yet, food always tastes better when you didn’t have to catch and skin it yourself,” the bard argued. He knew it wasn’t the best metaphor for a Witcher, but even Jaskier had enough self-preservation not to use the lewd (but applicable) analogy that nearly sprung to his lips.

He snatched the glass bottle of liquid soap amongst the various soaps and oils displayed on the desk behind him and turned back to Geralt, removing the stopper and pouring a generous amount of the mildly scented contents onto the stained hair. Yes, the enchanted soap was expensive, but by the gods, Geralt’s hair needed it. Jaskier was simply left to do it for him, knowing the man would never do anything nice for himself.