doesntsing | open post

"Oh, speaking of Literature, that reminds me. I started 'Frankenstein' from your list. It's been wonderful." He closes his eyes as he concentrates to quote- "The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine."

He nods along at the explanation - it does make lots of sense, but he can't help wondering if that decision was also influenced by having to keep face with her family and social circle. "So you want your crowd to imagine themselves giving you those amazing orgasms? I see how it is." His tone is teasing. "Your father would totally stab me. Or cut my cock off at the very least."

“I’m glad you like it. It’s the first horror novel written by a woman.”

She laughs again. “No, I want to imagine that they’re getting the orgasms. Living vicariously through me, though honestly I’m not sure if they want my life.”

Midge takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Papa wouldn’t do either of those things. People aren’t like that here. If he cut off your cock, he’d go to prison. And I’d be really pissed.”

"Really?" His eyes widen. "That makes it even more special." He's glad to get to know something so important in art history.

What she says leaves him thinking for a moment. He squeezes her hand and rubs her knuckles with his thumb while deciding how to respond to that.

"...maybe your papa is not. I do admit I was going for a bit of hyperbole, although I do think he wouldn't like me very much." Thankfully, it doesn't matter, since they aren't in a relationship. Right? "But even if my world was worse, please do remember - people can be like that here. It's why Elftown and Rainbow Road exist. They're safe spaces."

“Well, yes, I didn’t mean to imply that there aren’t murderers here, just that Papa would not kill you for sleeping with me.”

Midge exhales slowly. It’s not like she hasn’t thought about the inevitable meeting that will occur if Jaskier comes to the wedding with her.

“You may be able to charm him, but I think the biggest issue my parents will have with you is that you’re not Jewish.”

Jaskier wants to explain that this isn't about murderers, it's about hate seen as the natural order. But then she brings up the Jewish thing, and it's his turn to sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Right there, in the corner of the room, an elephant called Family Wedding stares at them.

"Of fucking course."

He doesn't say more. He should, because the silence is getting awkward. And Jaskier hates silence. Usually, he's a pro at filling them, but he still remembers their first lunch together, how she said that the only thing she asked for was respect. And honestly? Right now, he can't think of a single honest thing to say that won't start a fire. If the tension of the Wedding™ wasn't hanging between them, maybe he could've sailed through this more easily - it's like he survived court for years, after all. But he doesn't want his relationship with a beloved friend (a crush) to be like that.

"I'm getting hungry," he suddenly announces as he sits up, using the sheets to clean off the cum on his stomach. "We did let our genitals decide over our stomachs when we left the club, huh?" He's trying to joke, but he's obviously tense. "Something I love about this world is this whole take-out deal. Do you think there are flyers in the kitchen?"

“Jaskier…”

Midge doesn’t want to start a fight with him, but she doesn’t want to sweep this under the rug either.

“My parents would have no problem with us being friends, but I think they’ll be perceptive enough to know it’s more than that.” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what they think. I choose who I want to sleep with. It’s not… this isn’t a relationship. It’s not as if we’re getting married.”

She stares at the bedsheets in silence for a moment. “They would like you if they knew you, Jaskier. If they saw how happy I am around you,” Midge continues quietly. “Even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter to me.”

Ah, it seems they're talking about this. Which is quite ironic of Jaskier to think, considering he's usually the one scolding Geralt for not wanting to talk about stuff.

Hearing her say how happy I am around you makes his heart skip a beat, the big traitor. Jaskier tries to concentrate on the other sentence before he does something stupid out of affection. She's right, they aren't in a relationship, so it shouldn't matter. And if this conversation had come up before her invitation, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but it doesn't hit the same when the elephant keeps staring at them.

He also notices that she thinks he's upset about her parents liking him, when what bothers him is the why. But like he already thought, there's no bringing up that topic without starting a fire.

Religion or wedding? Are those two truly his only choices?

Fuck.

"You think they'll be perceptive enough to tell, yet you still want me to be your plus one?"

“I don’t think we’ll be able to hide our affection for each other,” Midge says plainly. “Unless you want to pretend that you aren’t fond of me. We don’t have to be in a relationship for you to come to the wedding with me. I just…”

She gives a shuddering sigh, tears forming in her eyes.

“I don’t want to be the pathetic divorcee, not at this wedding of all weddings. Leah’s family has more money than ours and she never lets us forget it. I don’t want to go alone. I thought that maybe since it’s out in the Hamptons we could go to the beach the day before. We’d be in a hotel. We could sneak into each other’s rooms. You could charm everyone there. We could say we’ve been seeing each other, which isn’t technically a lie. I wouldn’t introduce you as my boyfriend.”

Midge pulls a tissue from the box on the bedside table and dabs at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to guilt you into it and I know it’s a big ask. You don’t have to answer me about it yet.”

Fuck, are they really that obvious? He supposes that with her being a close friend and not just a fuck buddy, the message does get muddled a little. The idea of him pretending he isn't fond of her makes his eyes widen and he finally turns around to look at her, clearly offended by the mere idea.

"I would never--" He freezes when he sees crying. "Fuck."

He doesn't stop to think, he just moves - he wraps a sheet around her body before dragging her onto his lap, hugging her tightly and rubbing her back as he rocks her. Everything she says does make sense, and his first instinct is to want to protect her from that awful fucking life, because he got to escape it, but she didn't.

Mainly, however, he feels like shit for making her cry. He's about to say that yes, he'll go with her, just to see her smile again. But when he's about to talk, she adds the guilting him line and Jaskier sighs. Any answer that gives right now will be 'tarnished' by this conversation, and he doesn't want her to think he's doing it out of pity - although that first thought was an emotional reaction, so she wouldn't be too wrong.

And isn't the fact that they're both having such emotional reactions in the first place another thing he needs to consider? This will be another week of thinking, won't it? Geralt will be reminding him to end it again, but how can he do that when she needs him so much? (Which is even more ironic, because that need may be pushing the boundaries they decided on.)

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, darling. Please don't feel bad, this is all on me." Well, this bit is. He does wonder if she can keep on handling their agreement, but he doesn't mention it - he tells himself it's not the time, but in reality, it's because he's afraid of the answer. "There's nothing wrong with your invitation, and I've never felt pressured by your questions. I promise. I was just--" Being a fucking bitch, like he's already warned her. "--trying to avoid the subject of religion. Somehow I made it worse. But it isn't your fault, I swear. I'm sorry I made you cry." He kisses the top of her head. "I'll have an answer by the end of next week, does that work?"

Usually, he doesn't like putting deadlines on feelings, but it'll force him to consider things seriously instead of ignoring the subject more.

There’s a little bit of relief when he scoops her up in his arms, as Midge thought he would get angry and accuse her of crying in order to guilt him into saying yes. It’s what Joel would do. She rests her head on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be a Jewish wedding, so that will be part of it too,” she says. “They might want you to wear a yarmulke at the temple, which is a sort of hat, but I can probably get you out of that. Nothing will be expected of you, I promise.” Picking her head up to look into his eyes, Midge brushes her fingers through his hair. “The end of next week is fine.”

Things aren’t just casual between them, whether Jaskier wants to admit it to himself or not. Both of them feel strongly about each other. They talk all the time. They go to each other’s gigs. The sex is incredible. It’s not a relationship, because they don’t want it to be, but it’s more than friends with benefits.

Midge is glad to have more, but she doesn’t know if Jaskier feels the same way.

Other lovers definitely pulled that trick on him in the past, but he can tell Midge is genuine about this. Jaskier doesn't want to poke at this subject anymore, terrified of making it even worse, but after he made her cry? She deserves the truth.

"I didn't mean the wedding. I can sit through a ceremony, that's not a big deal. I meant your parents not approving of me because of religious reasons. I tried to dance around that, but ended up tripping right into the wedding anyway." He kisses her wrist when her hand comes close to his face. "Although I suppose they're connected. It's fine if your parents don't like me - they aren't the first, they won't be the last. But it's not the same thing thinking about that in an abstract way, than having to consider it to make my choice. It adds... extra weight, if you know what I mean."

She nods. “Perhaps if you do decide to come you ought to meet them ahead of time. Then the weekend won’t be so awkward. They want to meet you, of course. The man who gave me enchanted flowers, who I made soup for, who I ran off to in the early hours of the morning.”

Midge kisses him softly.

“We don’t have to define what we are to them or to anyone. We’re friends who enjoy each other’s company and make each other happy. That’s it.”

Any pushing by her parents won’t be done in Jaskier’s presence, and she can handle them. She just wants his presence and his support at fucking Leah’s fucking wedding.

That list of actions makes his stomach turn. When she puts it like that, it's impossible for him to blame her for getting emotional over any muddled messages. How did they even get to this point? They've let the river of passion just push them with its currents without a lifejacket.

"...I'll keep that in mind." It's an honest answer. Meeting them in private means he can't lose them by mingling at a party, but Midge has a point: it would get every needed conversation out of the way. It wouldn't ruin the wedding.

It's hard to think when she's kissing him.

"You are a beloved friend of mine, Miriam Maisel. I hope you know that." He agrees they don't have to define this, but he wants her to know she can count on him, regardless of the wedding issue. "Even if tomorrow you choose to get married to that humble, cute shepherd from the farm, I'll still enjoy your platonic company."

A smile crosses her face and she feels relief, finally.

She gives a soft laugh. “Where on Earth would I ever meet someone like that?” She asks.

In her heart, Midge knows that Jaskier is the only person she wants to be with right now. No shepherds or big city businessmen are going to change that for her, at least not any time soon.

“Are you really hungry? You want to order some take out?”

Oh, thank the gods. It kills him to see her sad. He should answer the question, but he can't help himself and--

"You have such a pretty smile," he says before capturing her mouth in a kiss. It's a sweet one, just trying to be there for her.

"...actually, I could do with some food right now. We did left the club in a hurry. And we need to regain energy."

He winks before gently putting her down to leave the bed. Without warning or asking for permission, he opens the closet and finds two robes. Grinning, he throws one at Midge.

"We can wash them with the sheets in the morning. Your friends don't need to know."

Complimenting her smile only makes her smile grow. She accepts his sweet kiss, just as she would accept all of his kisses.

Wearing the robes is probably fine. Midge picks up the one that Jaskier tosses on the bed.

“They’re monogrammed,” she says, showing him where the name ‘Irv’ is stitched over the left breast. “That one’s probably going to be small on you.” He’s got Muriel’s.

"Oh, is it?" He puts it on anyway. The sleeves are short, and his hairy legs are very exposed. "Is this what wearing a short skirt is like? I must say, I like feeling the breeze down there."

Jaskier puts his hands on his hips and turns around rather coquettishly, looking over his shoulder to wink at Midge. "Mrs Maisel, the boytoy you ordered is available now."

Why is she not surprised that he wears it anyway. “I usually wear panties with my short skirts,” Midge replies, slipping Irving’s robe over her shoulders.

She cracks up when he turns around and winks at her. If he bent over, his whole ass would be exposed. “They got my order exactly right,” Midge says as she stands up. She playfully grabs his ass, then closes and belts the large robe. “Come on, Muriel.”

Jaskier laughs when she grabs his ass, loving how much more comfortable she is with it now. He wonders what else they'll end up doing as their sexual exploration progresses.

The name makes him wrinkle his nose. "Ugh, don't make me regret putting it on."

He follows her to the kitchen, where they're lucky to find a few take-out flyers. They're short and to the point, so there's a lot that Jaskier doesn't get. "Please tell me at least one of these has good wine."

“Maybe if we order Italian…” Midge muses, picking up one of the flyers. “I was thinking Chinese, but they’re not exactly known for their wines.” There are several flyers for Chinese restaurants.

“What about pizza and wine?” she asks.

"Works for me," he replies.

Jaskier lets Midge make the order since she understands the options better than he does. While he waits, he takes a look around the kitchen. There are many gadgets he doesn't recognize, and a few that his family has already bought. It seems they still have much to learn. The fridge is empty and unplugged, which makes sense if the apartment is empty most of the time.

When he peeks into a drawer, he chuckles and speaks up when Midge hangs up. "I must say, it's a bit worrying that housewives have as many knives as Geralt."

Edited 2025-09-01 12:08 (UTC)

“It should be worrying, shouldn’t it?” Midge says, taking out a large butcher knife and holding it up. “Women are left alone all day to cook and clean with nobody to talk to but toddlers and then they give us knives like these. I’m kind of surprised that more men haven’t been stabbed.”

After putting the knife down, Midge looks in the cabinet and finds two wine glasses. She sets them on the small table in the kitchen.

“Do you have any cash, by the way? I might need some extra to tip the delivery boy.”

She's saying something important, something he agrees with. He has to listen. But looking at her like that, he can't help but lick his lips. "For the record, you look amazing with a weapon in your hand." Maybe she could get a bit of stabbing an asshole. As a treat.

Jaskier nods at her question and goes back to the living room to get his satchel. He also uses the chance to pick up their clothes and leave them on the reading chair. Wallet in hand, he decides to look around the apartment while waiting for the food, since last time they were too focused on the fucking to notice anything else.

When he enters the studio, Midge will hear him gasp and curse.

"Motherfucker-- MIDGE! Why didn't you tell me about this?!"

The sound that follows is keys being pressed. Someone has found a piano.

“Thanks,” she says, brandishing the knife like it’s a new piece of jewelry. “I think it brings out the color of my eyes.”

While Jaskier goes in search of his wallet, Midge finishes setting the table, putting out plates, napkins and some silverware just in case. She finds a corkscrew in a drawer and puts that on the table too. Then Jaskier is hollering for her and she hears the plink of a piano.

“I didn’t know it was here,” Midge says as she enters the room. “I’ve never actually been in this room.”

They’ve been a bit distracted both times they’ve come here.

Jaskier is already sitting at the piano, eyes closed as he plays with the keys. After trying one by one, he plays a very basic children's tune, ending it with a sigh. It's the only thing he can do for now, and only thanks to an elf who taught him.

He opens his eyes as he turns to look at Midge, and a grin appears. "I'm so fucking you on top of this."

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