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Lemon Boy

Chapter Text

Jaskier was home alone when the doorbell rang. Even from his room on the second floor, the sound that chimed through the house startled him into twanging sharply on his guitar, snapping the strings sloppily with an ugly noise.

Blue eyes darted around the room, brow furrowing, as if something there would tell him whether to go down and answer or not. Just when a shrug to himself decided for him that it wasn’t worth it to get up, the doorbell rang again. Twice

What kind of impatient bastard rang it twice? Wait. No, that was something Jaskier would do, too. So, it probably wasn’t just a delivery guy, then.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” He whined into the open air of his bedroom, melting off his bed onto the ground and laying his instrument carefully above him on the mattress.

Down the hall. Thirteen steps down, landing, another thirteen steps. Jaskier jumped the last two, landing his bare feet with a satisfying pat on the tile of the entry foyer. The frosted glass windows on either side of the front door didn’t let him see who was there, and a small part of Jaskier wondered if it would be just his luck to open the door to a crazy person today, of all the days he was home alone. 

Couldn’t answer the door for strangers all the time, one of them was bound to be somebody.

The deadbolt slid back with a good thunk, and the door slid open smoothly.

“... Can I help you?”

He didn’t recognise the boy on the doorstep.

A little older than Jaskier, maybe by a year or two, with long, kinda ratty hair. That was... white? Huh. Pretty.

He only looked Jaskier in the eye when the door was opened, but now his eyes were fixed on his feet, a dusted up pair of Nike’s. His hands were shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie, as if he was trying to push it down as far as it could go, making his shoulders hunch forward a little. He wore a necklace, tucked into his shirt but making an indentation visible, so it must be something big. 

There were plenty of other details like that, like the way he had his hair tied back, the way his sleeved pushed up just a little and the edge of a bracelet peeked out from the pocket his hands were hidden in. The piercing holes in his ears that were currently empty, and always, always the posture he had - awkward and shy despite his height and dark, metal look.

Jaskier was sure he must look like putty; a goofy, melted smile spread across his face under a painfully obvious blush that prickled at his skin. He clenched one slender hand on the edge of the door to keep his fingers from raising to clutch the front of his shirt.

Oh, damn, his eyes were beautiful... Golden brown, like honey. He had decided to look up, to make eye contact then? Were they friends now? How nice...

“Did you hear me?” The boy’s voice was deep, slow in a way that could be patient or condescending.

Probably condescending, considering Jaskier had no idea that he’d even spoken. “Oh? Sorry, no, I uh... was asleep.” What?

“You... Sorry if I woke you. It is three in the afternoon, though.” The boy straightened up a little, broad shoulders rolling back as his height became more true to his stature. “I kicked a ball into your backyard. M’dad wouldn’t let me hop the fence again. He said um... he said I had to come and ask, but that you could keep it if you didn’t want to let me go get it.”

“Oh, the black and white one? That’s yours? I was wondering where it kept coming from! You know,” And here he went. Jaskier grinned hopelessly as he began to ramble. “I was starting to wonder if it was like a secret message, like a sign from above you know? It just kept showing up in my yard and sometimes would disappear without me knowing, I guess that’s when you snuck into our yard to get it? Anyways, yeah, I know which ball you’re talking about. One time I tried to kick it back and ended up hitting myself in the face with it! I imagine that’s hard to do, so maybe I have some epic talent that just needs to be harnessed by practice or something.”

“I... Uh. What?”

“Oh, you must have been the one to set off the alarm that one time! I told my mum that it wasn’t raccoons! You do make a lot of noise hurling yourself into our garbage bins if that was you, though. Anyways, wait here, I’ll be right back!”

The boy just blinked, struggling to process the onslaught of personal anecdotes thrown at him. “I-I... um, okay, I’ll... uh.” He didn’t get to form a sentence, as Jaskier closed the door just enough as he darted off into the house to make it to the backyard.

He felt like his veins were buzzing as he jumped into the backyard and sped across the grass, swiping up the ball from where it was lodged in the flowerbeds towards the back of the yard, near the fence that the trees seemed to love leaning over.

There was a cute boy on his porch. Super cute. And he played sports, or at least played outside. And he was his neighbour. His new neighbours, the ones he had ignored for the most part when the ruckus of move-in had carried a bunch of unwanted noise into his room, consisted of this cute boy and whomever else was in his family? Ah!

Jaskier squealed, an excited little scream, and he hugged the ball close. Gods, he hoped this guy was kindof shitty at sports, because maybe he’d have to come retrieve it more often. But, oh! What if he was really good and ended up doing it on purpose!

Oh, shoot he was still at the door. Shaking his head, fluffy brown curls tousling and getting in his eyes, Jaskier mentally scolded himself just enough to get his blush to die down. He still felt it, burning and spicy in his cheeks, but hopefully it wasn’t showing so badly as he weaved his way back through the house to the foyer.

The boy was still there when he opened the door - (why wouldn’t he be?) - and Jaskier beamed again, feeling the blush rise again despite his efforts. And he spotted the slightest twitch of a smile on the boy’s face when he saw the ball in his hands. Yes!

“Here you go! Do you play on a team? Are you training for something?” Handing him the ball, Jaskier silently prayed their fingers would brush. He almost, almost frowned when they didn’t.

He tucked the ball under his arm, bringing his hands out from his pockets for good. There was a thick, silver ring on his middle finger. Ooh.

“I don’t. Just for fun, sometimes I go to the park but I... Don’t know the neighbourhood that well yet.” He toed the ground a little, taking a half-step back.

No, no no he couldn’t go yet! Jaskier wasn’t done talking to him! “Oh! Well, I’ve lived here for years so if you need someone to show you around or - or hang out with, I’m just here. You moved in next door so I’m literally just here, my parents are barely home so I’m available!” Definitely in more ways than one, he almost spat out.

The boy nodded, looking a little shy. He did an otherwise excellent job of remaining neutral. Blast, Jaskier wanted to see more. “Thanks. I’m gonna... go now. But um. Thanks.”

“Oh, wait what’s your name?” There was just the briefest stab of panic that maybe he was the one scaring him away. How could he though, he was being perfectly nice! Ah, they would be best friends if it was the last thing Jaskier did, dammit this new kid was cute!

A little pause. “Geralt.” Another pause, he turned away to leave before stopping and looking back. “You?”

“Ju - uh, Jaskier! It’s really nice to meet you, Geralt, I hope we can talk again soon! And like I said, if you need anything just ask! I’m always here!”

“Hm. Thanks, really... Um. Yeah. Bye, though.” He nodded in farewell, before retreating down the front steps and jogging on the sidewalk, back to his own house next door. 

Jaskier waved energetically, until Geralt glanced at him one more time before disappearing inside.

Well, this summer certainly just got more interesting. Jaskier’s face hurt from grinning so much.

He would definitely keep an eye on the backyard from now on. If luck would have it, that ball would be flying over the fence much more often.

Chapter Text

“Sometimes I think about coming over and chatting with you, you know? But I don’t want to freak you out by just - hovering over here by the fence. Would that be weird? I mean, I could just talk and you could do your thing, that’s totally fine. To be fair, this is my yard, I have every right to just stand and watch...” Jaskier knelt on top of the picnic table he pulled over to the fence, bare knees scraping slightly as they dug into the wooden surface. He held a black and white ball atop his lap.

“That would be a little creepy, though.” Geralt was standing on a bench, arms folded on the fence. His shirt pulled taut against his shoulders, dipping a bit at his neckline and otherwise, the rest was hidden behind the partition. Jaskier knew it would be too obvious if he sat up to lean forward and peek, but oh how he wanted to.

Shrugging though, the brunette raised a hand to shield his eyes as he looked up, the sun beginning to set right behind Geralt’s head so that his pale hair was silhouetted quite nicely. Like a halo, Jaskier grinned to himself. Was that too cliche to think? “Not if we’re talking to each other.”

“I didn’t ask you to come talk to me,” Geralt grumbled, amber eyes glancing to the side. The smallest of smiles tugged at his lips though, and Jaskier caught it - of course he did, with how intently he always stared. “I just asked if you could toss the ball back.”

Instead, spinning the ball in his hands, Jaskier giggled. “Maybe you should stop being so bad and kicking it over here, then you wouldn’t always have to ask me for it. You know, one of these days I’m just going to keep it.”

“Then I’ll come get it.”

“From my room?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Jaskier smirked, feeling like he’d won something but not entirely sure what

Geralt blushed just a little, huffing and looking down. “I’m not going to break into your house. I got in enough trouble for sneaking into your yard.” He shifted a little, shoulders tilting as he moved his feet somehow behind the fence. “I would just have to buy another one, I guess.”

“And lose that one, too? Do you have a job to fund this poor habit, dear Geralt?” His blue eyes twinkled as he teased, finding fun in exerting the cheekiness he usually kept bottled up around family.

“I actually do, I mean - I do odd jobs in the neighbourhood. I don’t see you going out to work, though.”

Jaskier hummed softly, shrugging innocently as he was unable to keep himself from grinning. “Fair. Anyways though, wouldn’t it be easier to just... come over and get it? I can extend an invite for an esteemed guest, but there would be a bit of a charge with it.”

Geralt had dark eyebrows, contrasting much with his chalky hair. And when they drew together, a little shadow formed from the crease of his brow. It was so cute. “You’re going to make me pay more than it would cost to just... go get another from the store.”

“Oh! Not money, my friend! Something far more valuable,” Winking, Jaskier took this opportunity to lean forward just a little; he still denied himself a downwards glance, because holding eye contact was far more fun of a game. “Time.”

Geralt smirked a little too, but accompanied with a soft laugh. “We’re not exactly friends, you know that.”

“Nope. We’re neighbours. But we could be friends, if you gave it a chance and did friend things with me.” Jaskier stood on the picnic table, ignoring how his knees felt so relieved from the sharp surface, and hopped down. He still held the ball in his hands, a cheeky look on his face when Geralt’s eyes followed it. “So, that being said, if you want this back, how about you spend the night this weekend? Does Friday sound good? My parents go out for this dumb country club elitist thing, so the house will be all to us.”

“You’re baiting me, that’s not cool.” But something shifted in Geralt’s face, a pensive look that left him almost soft. Jaskier’s heart fluttered, and he didn’t realise he was holding his breath until Geralt’s next words made him laugh. “Do I need to bring a baked good for the host?”

“Oh, honey if you can cook or bake or do anything without trashing a kitchen, you are a god in my eyes. If you want to bring something, go right ahead!” He felt light, giddy and fuzzy and just happy all over. 

“So, Friday then? What time?”

“Eight?”

“Sounds good.” A pause. “You okay?”

“What?”

“Your mouth’s open.”

“Oh!” Laughing, Jaskier twiddled his fingers in a wave farewell, and spun on his heel. “No matter, I’m fine. But yeah, see you on Friday, Geralt!”