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On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake!

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No matter what they were doing or where in the house they were, all three of them, without a doubt, could be found sitting in front of the tv at 7:55pm every Tuesday night in September… and October. This weekly ritual had been borne of non-spoken, strongly stood agreement, ever since Eskel and Geralt had come back from a work-out one week to find their younger housemate engaged in a heated debate with the tv.

They’d silently made their way to Lambert's room and watched as the short haired man flailed his arms wildly as he hurled venomous insults regarding someone’s… baking ability??  Needless to say, both men had been incredibly confused at the sight before them, and Lambert’s passionate attempt to explain his anger at the slight Paul? had caused by giving someone a handshake? hadn’t clarified anything. 

Of course Eskel had heard of the show before and had some kind of understanding as to what was going on. But poor Geralt was definitely out of his depth, at least for the first few times they’d joined Lambert in his room to watch it, after a while he had actually started to look forward to it. Geralt had to admit there was something comforting about being able to switch off from the world and settle together on the couch with his friends to discuss the weekly challenges and bakers antics.

Not that he’d ever admit that out loud , especially someone outside of their little group.

 

How those relatively calm evenings, well, as calm as it can get with Lambert's bitching, evolved into this, no-one was really sure, but Geralt's money was on Jaskier.

“What is it they’re doing again?” Eskel asked, turning his warm, honey eyes on Geralt, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

Geralt shrugged, very aware of how the move caused his shoulders to rub against the other man's arm that was resting on the back of the sofa. He hadn’t paid much attention when the two, loud third years had come crashing through the front door, only looking up from his textbook when he’d felt Jaskier standing in front of him and sworn to the other that he would not, under any circumstances, come into the kitchen.

“I did text you both earlier to remind you!” Jaskier shouted from the other room, and fuck Geralt always forgot how well the other man could hear. Said man peeked his head round the door at that moment, and sighed dramatically. “Though I don’t know why I bother, you’re both hopeless .”

Geralt hummed softly in response, a fond smile forming on his face as he took note of the flour smudged through Jaskier’s hair. “Said the man with flour in his hair.”

The flour covered man frowned at this new piece of information, eyebrows furrowing as he lifted a hand to check the state of his precious hair. Jaskier squawked as the white power, that was dislodged by his ruffling, fell down his face before turning quickly on his heels and storming back into the kitchen. “Lambert you prick! You fucking said you hadn’t!

Geralt snorted and turned his attention away from the sounds of fighting in the next room, instead deciding to focus on Eskel, who was smiling softly at him once more. “You still happy with me inviting him this year?” Eskel asked quietly, eyes twinkling mischievously as he slowly moved his arm closer to Geralt’s back.

“He certainly makes things more interesting.” Geralt replied, careful not to lean too quickly into the soft touch Eskel was offering him or blush too deeply at the bright, proud smile that was sent his way as he did so.

Just at that moment an alarm, thankfully not the fire alarm, went off in the kitchen, causing the shouting from inside to cease for a moment before Lambert, covered from head to toe in flour, peaked his head round the door with a victorious smile on his face and nodded towards the TV. “It’s starting,” he helpfully supplied before ducking back inside the kitchen.

“Does this count as Lambert’s friend and therefore Lambert’s mess ?” Eskel asked hopefully, eyes still staring at the white cloud their housemate’s movements had left in the living room. “Because technically he was with Jaskier when said mess was made.”

Geralt snorted softly, pulling away to reach for the remote before leaning back against Eskel’s arm once more. “You’re going to have to ask Yen to check how valid that technicality is if you want to get out of cleaning that up.”

Fuck… ” Eskel sighed before moving to rest his head against Geralt’s shoulder. “I’ve just done my washing as well.” 

“You can put your stuff in with mine tomorrow.” Geralt replied, proud of how unaffected his voice sounded despite the fast beating of his heart.

 

Welcome, to the Great British -- “Ta-Da!” A wide smiling Jaskier exclaimed as he held something plated out in front of him. The man had clearly tried to brush off the worst of the flour before coming back into the living room, and though it wasn’t a thick coat, he was still covered in it.

Lambert followed him out in a similar state, carrying some plates and a jug of water, placing them on the table before moving to sit with Jaskier on the other couch, ignoring Eskels wince as more flour came off the both of them and went everywhere.

Geralt snorted and turned his attention to the bread on the table, which, though he’d struggle to admit it, smelt and looked incredible. Though clearly he hadn’t kept his face as blank as he’d hoped, as Jaskier was beaming shyly at him, his blush somehow visible under the layer of flour.

A quick bump to his shoulder pulled his attention away and he quickly looked across to Eskel who was leaning in next to him, sharing a knowing smile with Jaskier over Geralt’s shoulder.

“Let’s hope this chapter of Lambert’s cooking adventures doesn’t end with us back in A&E.” Eskel teased, shifting the atmosphere back to one in which Geralt could breathe properly as he cut into the crusted, seeded loaf.

“Hey! I said I was fucking sorry about that!” Lambert squawked, before attempting to start a discussion on the topic which was quickly drowned out by Jaskier’s gasping laughter. “Oh my god you have to tell me that one!”

Geralt hummed loudly, nodding at the tv once he had everyone’s attention and smiled softly when they all fell silent, tucking into the fresh, warm bread as they settled down to listen to the details of the first task. And if he kept leaning closer to Eskel and taking quick, soft looks at Jaskier as the show went on, nobody needed to know... 

 

On your marks. Get set. Baaake.