oh dear i'm having very cursed geraskier a/o thoughts

jaskier hating the mutation with a burning rage, because he can't stand not being in control. the first time it happened, nobody had explained it to him and he just ran off, terrified, into the woods, because everyone around him was suddenly a threat.

and, to be clear, it's not that he doesn't think he'll ever find an alpha, it's that he doesn't think he'd ever want one. because fuck the idea of *belonging* to someone else. he's had to fight to get where he's gotten, and he'd be an idiot to let someone take advantage of that.

just to be clear, geralt knows from day one - people with an alpha/omega mutation have a very distinctive scent. but that's the bard's business. geralt has no reason to bring it up, to let him know he's not alone. besides, when they first meet, geralt doesn't want *more*...

common ground with him. doesn't want to give jaskier an excuse to stick around. except he does. even though geralt's done everything *but* give him an excuse. he settles with the knowledge that fine, jaskier can stay with him, but geralt doesn't owe him anything.

and geralt really, truly believes that. until he returns from a hunt one day to find jaskier in the tent they're sharing, curled in a ball. feverish shaking. geralt doesn't have to ask him what's wrong, but jaskier's already explaining - or trying to, anyway.

geralt is *so sure* that jaskier is worrying about nothing that he lets out the tiniest chuckle. 'i have it too', he explains, 'i'm an alpha. i understand.'
he's not expecting jaskier's face to contort in rage. 'understand? how could you possibly understand, geralt?'

geralt frowns, reaches for jaskier's shoulder to comfort him, and that - that's his mistake. considering everything he's gone through with him from *day one*, geralt is sure that jaskier isn't even faintly familiar with the concept of self-preservation. but when he touches him...

jaskier fucking loses it. in his eyes geralt is the same as all the others who thought they had a right to touch him, a right to his body. and if it wasn't for how heat makes the nuances of emotion so difficult, he might be as bitterly disappointed as he is angry. but.

there's only room in his heart for anger. he is so caught up in the delirious haze that he's unsure what he shouts at geralt, but he knows it's bad. it's bad because he can feel the alarm pounding in his chest but he can't fight geralt and he can't run - he just needs him to *go*

so he says every horrific thing he can think of, he lies, he pretends being with geralt is a living nightmare in the hope that it will wound geralt badly enough that he'll just leave jaskier alone. because he's always handled heat alone. why should now be any different?

something becomes clear to geralt while jaskier is using every last iota of strength he has to implore geralt to get out - that he does, in fact, owe jaskier. for every day and night he hasn't had to spend alone. for the unwavering - unconditional - loyalty

that geralt can barely even comprehend in its totality. sometimes, he will look down at jaskier, and reflected back up at him is hope and every beautiful tiny thing he always thought was never made for a brute like him. jaskier makes him feel human. and he can't repay that...

because it's not a debt. it's something jaskier gave geralt without expecting anything in return. but geralt can still try.
so he leaves jaskier in the tent.
he sits outside, sword drawn, in case anyone - or anything - comes through and decides to even look this way twice.

and he waits.
it's not easy. he barely sleeps, he can hear that jaskier is in pain. but he waits, face set in a determined frown. he wants to do this one thing - and even still it seems so tiny, so insignificant. but he does it, and eventually, a few days later, jaskier emerges.

hundreds of expressions flit across his face in an instant and geralt feels the apprehensive fear - like waiting for a raised fist to land - this was all a mistake, he should have just *left* - so caught up that it takes him a minute to realise that jaskier is holding him.

jaskier doesn't say anything. he can't. the magnitude of it presses against his throat when he tries to speak. so he just holds his witcher, and he hopes that his warm body nestled against geralt's chest, his closed eyes, his trust, is enough.