Jaskier starts to apologize, but a (kinda pathetic) squeal leaves his lips instead. Geralt is grabbing him by his shirt and--
-oh.
Ooooooh.
Fuck.
It's not easy to embarrass Jaskier - the man is quite shameless. And to be fair, it's not quite embarrassment that gets his cheeks red and his throat dry. No, it's the fact that Geralt is as strong as he looks. It's the fact he can move him as if he weighed nothing at all. It's the fact his name is said with that growl that sends a shiver down his spine, the fact he just got to feel his boobs, plus the summer sun above them, it's--
It's... a very bad case of blue balls.
Double fuck.
Geralt continues to work, but Jaskier needs a moment. Face flushed and mouth hanging open, he stays sitting on the ground, trying to put himself together. When he finally moves, it's to take off his hat and fan himself with it. Honestly, the fact he doesn't have a boner right now is a huge fucking miracle - and experience, probably, because Jaskier is used to finding pretty people everywhere. He has been training his body since his hormones brought puberty home.
And yet... this DILF is going to be the end of him.
For a moment he considers the option of opening the bottle of wine in his tote bag, but that would only make him more pathetic. So the hat returns to his head before Jaskier crawls until he's next to Geralt and starts helping him pick up the fallen berries.
"I'm sorry," he offers with a much calmer voice. There's no dramatics, just honesty. He knows when his flirting fucks up, and this definitely counts as fucking up. "I didn't mean to make a mess of things. I just-" Really like you. "-I'm really excited to be here. I always am, but especially today because you invited me. It's nice."
It's fantastic, amazing, it makes him smile! But gotta take it a bit slower, he's already pushed Geralt enough for today.
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-oh.
Ooooooh.
Fuck.
It's not easy to embarrass Jaskier - the man is quite shameless. And to be fair, it's not quite embarrassment that gets his cheeks red and his throat dry. No, it's the fact that Geralt is as strong as he looks. It's the fact he can move him as if he weighed nothing at all. It's the fact his name is said with that growl that sends a shiver down his spine, the fact he just got to feel his boobs, plus the summer sun above them, it's--
It's... a very bad case of blue balls.
Double fuck.
Geralt continues to work, but Jaskier needs a moment. Face flushed and mouth hanging open, he stays sitting on the ground, trying to put himself together. When he finally moves, it's to take off his hat and fan himself with it. Honestly, the fact he doesn't have a boner right now is a huge fucking miracle - and experience, probably, because Jaskier is used to finding pretty people everywhere. He has been training his body since his hormones brought puberty home.
And yet... this DILF is going to be the end of him.
For a moment he considers the option of opening the bottle of wine in his tote bag, but that would only make him more pathetic. So the hat returns to his head before Jaskier crawls until he's next to Geralt and starts helping him pick up the fallen berries.
"I'm sorry," he offers with a much calmer voice. There's no dramatics, just honesty. He knows when his flirting fucks up, and this definitely counts as fucking up. "I didn't mean to make a mess of things. I just-" Really like you. "-I'm really excited to be here. I always am, but especially today because you invited me. It's nice."
It's fantastic, amazing, it makes him smile! But gotta take it a bit slower, he's already pushed Geralt enough for today.