Jaskier's immediately upset by this information because-- as Geralt suspected-- he apparently had no idea that ticks are a thing. Despite the fact that it's common knowledge that ticks exist in woods and meadows and have no qualms with latching onto a human host and making a nice meal out of them. He's already starting to take off his clothes, even though Geralt hasn't even brought him back to the house yet and he's just standing out near the street.
"Don't strip right now, unless you want to walk barefoot to the house," he says, then starts to lead the musician back up the driveway towards his home. "Usually I don't get this many on me just from taking a trail ride, but we usually don't roll around in the underbrush either."
The house that Geralt built is, unsurprisingly to anyone who knows him, very much in a cabin style, a sturdy two-story thing with a semi-basement, made from wood and stone with a deck off of the main floor and a balcony off of the second. Geralt leads him up the stairs to the deck, then into the house that way; that entrance goes right into the living room, the closest one to the first-floor bathroom. A person might be surprised that the house actually seems like it's been decorated rather than just filled with whatever furniture would do, but any cohesiveness in the design is entirely Yen's input. Geralt would have been fine with a house with mis-matched furniture so long as each individual piece was serviceable, but she had taken one step into it and demanded that he run these decisions by her first. Something about not wanting her daughter to spend half of her time in a house full of flannel.
So the end result is cozy, a place that Ciri could be comfortable living in, too, with enough of Geralt's-- as Yen would put it-- bullshit mountain man aesthetic that he doesn't feel like a stranger in his own home. Maybe more soft fabrics and warm colors than he would've used, but Yen kept it muted, subtle. She'd always been better at this sort of thing than him, anyway, so leaving it to her had been a good decision.
She had also, for inexplicable reasons, shown considerable glee in putting a dense faux-fur rug in front of the large central fireplace, regardless of the looks Geralt gave her. He knows what she thinks it'll be used for, but he'd have to be dating someone to fuck them on the rug in front of his fireplace.
Anyway.
"Take off your shirt and jeans," he says. "I'll check you over. Bathroom's over there, you can check the rest when I'm done and rinse off."
It's not a big deal-- he'd done the same thing with his brothers after long days messing around in the woods as kids. Purely practical. There's nothing strange about putting his hands on Jaskier, getting his fingers through his hair.
"I'll toss your clothes in the dryer while you're in there. Heat'll kill anything we missed."
no subject
"Don't strip right now, unless you want to walk barefoot to the house," he says, then starts to lead the musician back up the driveway towards his home. "Usually I don't get this many on me just from taking a trail ride, but we usually don't roll around in the underbrush either."
The house that Geralt built is, unsurprisingly to anyone who knows him, very much in a cabin style, a sturdy two-story thing with a semi-basement, made from wood and stone with a deck off of the main floor and a balcony off of the second. Geralt leads him up the stairs to the deck, then into the house that way; that entrance goes right into the living room, the closest one to the first-floor bathroom. A person might be surprised that the house actually seems like it's been decorated rather than just filled with whatever furniture would do, but any cohesiveness in the design is entirely Yen's input. Geralt would have been fine with a house with mis-matched furniture so long as each individual piece was serviceable, but she had taken one step into it and demanded that he run these decisions by her first. Something about not wanting her daughter to spend half of her time in a house full of flannel.
So the end result is cozy, a place that Ciri could be comfortable living in, too, with enough of Geralt's-- as Yen would put it-- bullshit mountain man aesthetic that he doesn't feel like a stranger in his own home. Maybe more soft fabrics and warm colors than he would've used, but Yen kept it muted, subtle. She'd always been better at this sort of thing than him, anyway, so leaving it to her had been a good decision.
She had also, for inexplicable reasons, shown considerable glee in putting a dense faux-fur rug in front of the large central fireplace, regardless of the looks Geralt gave her. He knows what she thinks it'll be used for, but he'd have to be dating someone to fuck them on the rug in front of his fireplace.
Anyway.
"Take off your shirt and jeans," he says. "I'll check you over. Bathroom's over there, you can check the rest when I'm done and rinse off."
It's not a big deal-- he'd done the same thing with his brothers after long days messing around in the woods as kids. Purely practical. There's nothing strange about putting his hands on Jaskier, getting his fingers through his hair.
"I'll toss your clothes in the dryer while you're in there. Heat'll kill anything we missed."