The sheer size of him is, indeed, having an effect on Jaskier, but not because of the reasons Geralt is thinking. He's barely a few inches shorter, how can he feel so small anyway? Geralt's body is freaking massive and hard (his hands remember from their previous "underbush rolling") and Jaskier wishes he could be under it right there on the rug.
That huffed laugh brings Jaskier back to reality - a sound he doesn't hear often and it makes him happy when he gets to. Not only that, Geralt is also offering information about himself without Jaskier having to pry for it. How is this fair? How is it that Geralt is finally behaving like a true friend after Jasker arrived to such heartbreaking conclussions? Destiny is one fucking bitch.
He nods when Geralt tells him to wait, watching that lovely bottom leave the room and- ugh, even his back is wide and strong and Jaskier wants to dig his nails on it as he's pounded on the rug-- fuck. Cursing under his breath, Jaskier picks his t-shirt from the floor, makes a ball out of it and presses it against his face so he can scream into it.
Once a drama queen, forever a drama queen. But boy, does it feel good to get that off his chest.
The t-shirt is soon back on the floor and Jaskier quickly regrets it: he may need to scream again after all. How can he not when Geralt is just sitting there waiting for him to take care of his hair? This isn't some anti bug bullshit deal, this is true friendship. He may not know Geralt that well, but he's pretty sure not just anyone gets him like this.
"So, uh. Brothers, huh? Are you the oldest one?"
Conversation is good, it helps him stay focused - besides, he wants to know for real anyway. Two birds one stone and all that jazz. Jaskier picks the comb and the paper towel and moves to stand behind Geralt, but he doesn't quite use his tools yet. First he undoes the hair tie, letting it fall on the floor with his clothes (don't they look good together on the pile, as if they were- no) and quickly runs his fingers through the long locks to take care of the main mess. It's his fault after all! (Yes, that's the excuse he's going with.)
"What does the wolf mean anyway?"
Because obviously it's not what Jaskier thought of. He grabs the comb then and starts brushing, stopping with he finds a tick to grab with the towel. Geralt may know this is happening because of the pause in the combing, but also because there's an ewww mumbled every time.
And if Geralt cares to notice, well - it doesn't seem to be Jaskier's first time combing through someone's long hair.
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That huffed laugh brings Jaskier back to reality - a sound he doesn't hear often and it makes him happy when he gets to. Not only that, Geralt is also offering information about himself without Jaskier having to pry for it. How is this fair? How is it that Geralt is finally behaving like a true friend after Jasker arrived to such heartbreaking conclussions? Destiny is one fucking bitch.
He nods when Geralt tells him to wait, watching that lovely bottom leave the room and- ugh, even his back is wide and strong and Jaskier wants to dig his nails on it as he's pounded on the rug-- fuck. Cursing under his breath, Jaskier picks his t-shirt from the floor, makes a ball out of it and presses it against his face so he can scream into it.
Once a drama queen, forever a drama queen. But boy, does it feel good to get that off his chest.
The t-shirt is soon back on the floor and Jaskier quickly regrets it: he may need to scream again after all. How can he not when Geralt is just sitting there waiting for him to take care of his hair? This isn't some anti bug bullshit deal, this is true friendship. He may not know Geralt that well, but he's pretty sure not just anyone gets him like this.
"So, uh. Brothers, huh? Are you the oldest one?"
Conversation is good, it helps him stay focused - besides, he wants to know for real anyway. Two birds one stone and all that jazz. Jaskier picks the comb and the paper towel and moves to stand behind Geralt, but he doesn't quite use his tools yet. First he undoes the hair tie, letting it fall on the floor with his clothes (don't they look good together on the pile, as if they were- no) and quickly runs his fingers through the long locks to take care of the main mess. It's his fault after all! (Yes, that's the excuse he's going with.)
"What does the wolf mean anyway?"
Because obviously it's not what Jaskier thought of. He grabs the comb then and starts brushing, stopping with he finds a tick to grab with the towel. Geralt may know this is happening because of the pause in the combing, but also because there's an ewww mumbled every time.
And if Geralt cares to notice, well - it doesn't seem to be Jaskier's first time combing through someone's long hair.