Jaskier skips ahead of him on the path, turning to walk backwards so that he's facing Geralt. There's a part of him that vindictively hopes that he'll trip, just to teach him a lesson about being purposefully annoying. No luck-- the musician is unfortunately sure-footed as he goes.
And he's got a handful of honeyberries, ones that have been on the bush for long enough that they're almost overripe, plump and practically popping with juice. Jaskier asks him a question but Geralt barely even registers the words, because he has taken one of the berries to his lips and is practically fellating it. He has a clever mouth, and that would make sense in the sort of abstract academic way of assuming that being a vocalist would require skill in mouth-related subjects. It's far different to see it demonstrated in this way, like the difference between knowing someone's good at tongue-twisters and watching them tie a knot in a cherry stem with their tongue.
It still shouldn't matter, because Jaskier is a man and the oral dexterity of men isn't something that's in Geralt's purview. Jaskier's oral dexterity is extremely distracting.
"Hm."
That doesn't answer the question and there's maybe a bit of a choked edge to that grunt, but Geralt smoothly and effectively covers that up by walking off the path and directly into the dense foliage that grows next to it, going into it far enough that the path was out of sight. Because pushing his way into the middle of a bunch of berry bushes until he can't see Jaskier anymore is a completely reasonable response to this situation.
There are berries all around him. He starts picking them, and it's a relief to have something to do with his hands that does not, in any way, involve a foppish musician who can't seem to do his shirt up all the way.
Geralt takes out his phone and types a short message to Lambert. He needs to get laid, apparently fucking yesterday, and Lambert might be a shit wingman but every other man in the bar looks better by comparison, so his presence isn't entirely unhelpful. So he'll just pick some woman up at the bar, fuck her until he stops feeling weird, and then everything would be fine. Totally solid plan.
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And he's got a handful of honeyberries, ones that have been on the bush for long enough that they're almost overripe, plump and practically popping with juice. Jaskier asks him a question but Geralt barely even registers the words, because he has taken one of the berries to his lips and is practically fellating it. He has a clever mouth, and that would make sense in the sort of abstract academic way of assuming that being a vocalist would require skill in mouth-related subjects. It's far different to see it demonstrated in this way, like the difference between knowing someone's good at tongue-twisters and watching them tie a knot in a cherry stem with their tongue.
It still shouldn't matter, because Jaskier is a man and the oral dexterity of men isn't something that's in Geralt's purview. Jaskier's oral dexterity is extremely distracting.
"Hm."
That doesn't answer the question and there's maybe a bit of a choked edge to that grunt, but Geralt smoothly and effectively covers that up by walking off the path and directly into the dense foliage that grows next to it, going into it far enough that the path was out of sight. Because pushing his way into the middle of a bunch of berry bushes until he can't see Jaskier anymore is a completely reasonable response to this situation.
There are berries all around him. He starts picking them, and it's a relief to have something to do with his hands that does not, in any way, involve a foppish musician who can't seem to do his shirt up all the way.
Geralt takes out his phone and types a short message to Lambert. He needs to get laid, apparently fucking yesterday, and Lambert might be a shit wingman but every other man in the bar looks better by comparison, so his presence isn't entirely unhelpful. So he'll just pick some woman up at the bar, fuck her until he stops feeling weird, and then everything would be fine. Totally solid plan.