"...ah. Right." You'd think he'd try at least to look ashamed of how quickly he can undress, but he doesn't. He just picks his guitar, his bags and his shirt and clears his voice. "Lead the way!"
The fact Geralt is inviting him to his freaking house is finally sinking in, and that instantly gets rid of his indignation, replacing it with a grin instead. The bugs are worth it in exchange for this one more step in this re-... ah, friendship, he reminds himself. Right. Which is why he doesn't make an innuendo joke when Geralt mentions rolling around in the underbrush, no matter he's dying to.
Jaskier has seen the house from the outside every time he's visited, of course, and he's always thought it matches the mountain man motif Geralt has going on. So he expects the inside to match - imagine his surprise when it doesn't.
Alright, that's not completely fair. It does match in theme, it's just... well. It's actually well done! Jaskier wouldn't mind spending time here and even take pictures he wouldn't be ashamed of sharing. There even are a fur rug and a fireplace! Geralt only needs to open a few shirt buttons and it'll be the perfect romance novel cover. Has the rug ever been baptized, he wonders.
...he shouldn't be thinking like that. Friends, friends!
"You have a very nice place here, Geralt. I didn't expect you to have an eye for decoration." He keeps turning on his spot in the middle of the room, taking every detail, wanting to learn more about this mystery of a man - and that's why he's distracted when Geralt speaks, so his mouth works on automatic. "Oh gee, buy a bloke dinner first, you scamp."
His turning stops as soon as he finishes saying that. Everything happens in an instant: first the freezing and the wide eyes, a second later the raising of his hands to gesture, which he can't do because they're busy. His flannel shirt falls to the floor and Jaskier curses under his breath as he drops his bags and his guitar case on the couch.
"Sorrysorrysorry I didn't mean-- I mean--" Fuck. Triplefuck. He is being a creep after all, holy shit. He hasn't been this much of a bisexual disaster in a while. "A shower after a warm day sounds lovely, thank you, my friend."
Yeah, friend. There we go. Smooth as fuck (except he isn't).
Jaskier clears his voice and starts undressing as Geralt requested, at more normal speed this time. Partly because he wants to stick to this whole better-not-come-off-as-flirting deal, partly because he needs a moment for his brain to stop panicking at the fact he's undressing for bloody Geralt. This isn't how he imagined it would happen, honestly. And it's not like Jaskier hasn't been in locker rooms before, but this is definitely different. Geralt will be touching him and inspecting him closely in the privacy of his home and--
Bollocks he mumbles under his breath again as he drops his I'm a luxury you can't afford t-shirt on the floor next to his shirt, and now his lovely (blue and yellow) tattoo and all that freaking body hair are in display. His jeans go off next, and he decides to search the room for a topic of conversation to try to distract himself from the fact Geralt is now seeing him in his underwear.
There's one sock left to take off when he sees it. He frowns, confused and already getting a little annoyed if he's understanding this correctly.
"...Geralt. Have you been lying to me or your daughter just happens to have a huge collection of high fantasy?"
no subject
The fact Geralt is inviting him to his freaking house is finally sinking in, and that instantly gets rid of his indignation, replacing it with a grin instead. The bugs are worth it in exchange for this one more step in this re-... ah, friendship, he reminds himself. Right. Which is why he doesn't make an innuendo joke when Geralt mentions rolling around in the underbrush, no matter he's dying to.
Jaskier has seen the house from the outside every time he's visited, of course, and he's always thought it matches the mountain man motif Geralt has going on. So he expects the inside to match - imagine his surprise when it doesn't.
Alright, that's not completely fair. It does match in theme, it's just... well. It's actually well done! Jaskier wouldn't mind spending time here and even take pictures he wouldn't be ashamed of sharing. There even are a fur rug and a fireplace! Geralt only needs to open a few shirt buttons and it'll be the perfect romance novel cover. Has the rug ever been baptized, he wonders.
...he shouldn't be thinking like that. Friends, friends!
"You have a very nice place here, Geralt. I didn't expect you to have an eye for decoration." He keeps turning on his spot in the middle of the room, taking every detail, wanting to learn more about this mystery of a man - and that's why he's distracted when Geralt speaks, so his mouth works on automatic. "Oh gee, buy a bloke dinner first, you scamp."
His turning stops as soon as he finishes saying that. Everything happens in an instant: first the freezing and the wide eyes, a second later the raising of his hands to gesture, which he can't do because they're busy. His flannel shirt falls to the floor and Jaskier curses under his breath as he drops his bags and his guitar case on the couch.
"Sorrysorrysorry I didn't mean-- I mean--" Fuck. Triplefuck. He is being a creep after all, holy shit. He hasn't been this much of a bisexual disaster in a while. "A shower after a warm day sounds lovely, thank you, my friend."
Yeah, friend. There we go. Smooth as fuck (except he isn't).
Jaskier clears his voice and starts undressing as Geralt requested, at more normal speed this time. Partly because he wants to stick to this whole better-not-come-off-as-flirting deal, partly because he needs a moment for his brain to stop panicking at the fact he's undressing for bloody Geralt. This isn't how he imagined it would happen, honestly. And it's not like Jaskier hasn't been in locker rooms before, but this is definitely different. Geralt will be touching him and inspecting him closely in the privacy of his home and--
Bollocks he mumbles under his breath again as he drops his I'm a luxury you can't afford t-shirt on the floor next to his shirt, and now his lovely (blue and yellow) tattoo and all that freaking body hair are in display. His jeans go off next, and he decides to search the room for a topic of conversation to try to distract himself from the fact Geralt is now seeing him in his underwear.
There's one sock left to take off when he sees it. He frowns, confused and already getting a little annoyed if he's understanding this correctly.
"...Geralt. Have you been lying to me or your daughter just happens to have a huge collection of high fantasy?"