I want something soft. Sorry. Somfte. Like snuggling in blankets on a cold day, drinking tea or something with Geralt/Jaskier.
Yes hi hello my love!
While most of europe is facing a heatwave, im sitting at home with blankets and sweaters. In July. I am very dissapointed. so this is me projecting. Ish.
Please enjoy <3
On Ao3 here
For being in the middle of the summer, it is very fucking cold. And by very fucking cold, we are talking drizzling rain, windy winds and double socks.
Yes, Jaskier is a dramatic man, but look, it is cold.
Had it not been in the middle of the summer, it would have been ideal for snuggling up on the couch with blankets, tea and a book.
But it is in the middle of summer, and Jaskier refuses to accept the current temperature.
Sadly, their balcony isn't glassed in, or he could have pretended that the smattering of rain is the soft brush of waves, those angry clouds just passing by, soon to reveal a warm sun (or lamp) again.
But Jaskier will not be deterred. Armed with flipflops, his favorite pink swimming trunks, sunglasses, and a pineapple shirt. It somehow matches, he is rocking this outfit, and he will wear this outfit to the store to buy sun lotion.
Be the change you want to see in the world. Hope the weather listens.
The streets are predictably filled with puddles, his toes pink and sad and wet as he trudges on. At least the sun lotion is on sale, he notices, as he passes through the sliding doors, dripping all over their fake marble floors.
He grabs a pool noodle too, for shits and giggles. Why not? It is summer. It has to get warm at some point! Doesn't it?
Returning home to their shared flat is a little less victorious than he imagined. The strap on his left Flop? Flip? One of them snapped, and the walk home suddenly was a lot longer and a lot sadder. His toes now is an angry red and there is water dripping down his nose, making him sniffle.
Geralt was not there when he left, but he sure is there now, standing in the middle of the floor gaping, sweatpants, hoodie and a bowl of cereal a much more sensible choice for the temperature.
"What on earth did you do?" Geralt asks, staring at Jaskier, dripping wet in the doorway.
"It's summer. We need sun lotion." Jaskier says sadly, dropping the pool noodle to the floor with a wet slap.
"Jaskier. It's freezing. Get the fuck in the shower. Why a pool noodle??" Geralt puts down his bowl and steers Jaskier towards the bathroom.
"For the shits and giggles." Jaskier explains, kicking off his traitor floppeti flip, letting himself be steered.
Geralt touching him is always a win, no matter the conditions. Unless he is hitting him. Or tickling him. Anything but tickles.
"Get out of those clothes, you menace." Geralt sighs. "I'll make some tea."
"Best housemate ever." The door is closed behind Jaskier, who quickly obeys and enjoys the hottest shower this side of Mordor.
When he returns to their living room, his cheeks are rosy from the heat, his hair wrapped in a towel.
Vitality restored, Jaskier shuffles to the couch where Geralt is already sitting. It makes his hopeful little heart flutter when Geralt allows
Jaskier to creep up close, lean against his shoulder and sigh contently.
"Waaarm." He says, cheek smushed against his friend's arm.
"You silly creature." Geralt says fondly, grabbing the blanket from the floor where Jaskier left it last night, and throws it over both their legs.
" 's supposed to be summer." Jaskier pouts.
"It is summer."
"Tell that to the rain."
"Don't need to. Heard you muttering all the way up the stairs."
"It didn't listen."
"Poor you."
"Don't mock me."
Geralt snorts and Jaskier snuggled down closer under the blankets. It is terribly cozy, he can't believe Geralt lets him get away with cuddling. A rare treat he is not sure he deserves, but he'll take it.
From the kitchen, the water boiler whistles for attention, and Geralt stands up, leaving Jaskier feeling unbalanced. For a few minutes,
Jaskier just sits there, contemplating if he should wait, or just spread himself over the entirety of the couch.
Before he can make up his mind, Geralt returns with two steaming cups, one cup decorated with ponies in all shapes and sizes, the other a glittery rainbow.
"My hero." Jaskier sighs, accepting the cup, leaning back into Geralt as soon as he is sat down again.
They get comfortable, Jaskier blowing on his tea until it is cool enough to sip on, Geralt starting Netflix to pick a show for them to catch up on.
The opening notes to Stranger thing starts, and Geralt leans forward to set down the remote.
When he leans back, Jaskier almost chokes on his tea. Because now there is an arm behind his shoulders, a hand resting in the dip of his waist.
They don't say anything. Just rest against each other, watching the screen and ignoring the rain outside. It is warm and it is comfortable, old yet incredibly new.
He can feel Geralt breathe, his chest expanding, he can smell his shampoo, and when the monster suddenly appears on the screen, he clutches Geralt's T-shirt, his knuckles touching warm skin.
Suddenly the rain doesn't feel so bad. Maybe he could deal with another day or three like this.
Even if it means broken flipflops or useless pool noodles, he would trade it in a heartbeat, if it meant time curled up on the couch, being held through the scary scenes of a show he's seen twice over.
Current status: my family is “celebrating” late Christmas in July by impulse-buying Christmas trees. There are three fully set up (and lit) in the basement, and there are at least two more stored down there. Two that I know of...
“girls are so high maintenance, they take forever in the bathroom” they say as she painstakingly shaves off every trace of hair from her whole body except her head because if she doesn’t society will tell her she’s gross and undesirable
