Geralt carrying around the engagement ring for MONTHS waiting for the perfect moment to propose

He finally does, one evening. They've ordered their favorite takeout. Roach is cuddled on the couch with them and purring. They are rewatching jaskiers favorite musical, and geralt looks over to jaskier who is mouthing along to the show without even realizing.

Geralt pulls the ring out of his pocket and nudges jaskier, holding it up without a word.

Jaskier begins to cry, "Geralt I'm wearing sweatpants!"

“so?” geralt asks, looking up at jaskier through thick lashes. so unfair, jaskier thinks, taking a hiccupping sob.

“so?! i want— geralt, its you! i want to look good enough for you to marry! you’re all— gods, you’re you, and i’m me—” he babbled, clutching a throw pillow to his chest.

“jaskier.” geralt said firmly, cupping jaskier’s chin in his free hand. “i’d marry you right this minute if we could. i love you in your sweatpants just as much as i love you in a ball gown.”

geralt pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“you.”

one to his temple.

“are.”

one to the tip of his nose.

“beautiful.”

jaskier’s lip only trembled harder as he curled into geralt’s chest.

“well?” he said wobbily, wiggling his left hand at geralt. “what’re you waiting on, then?”