"Hm," he says when Jaskier accuses him of cheating, giving away absolutely nothing. It is cheating, a little, because he knows that he's skirting around the question on a technicality. At first it had been because Jaskier was nosy and pushy, but now... it's fun, almost, to tease him. Just a little.
Jaskier holds very still while Geralt takes the tick off of him, presumably because he's taking a gross insect out of his hair. He keeps searching for more as the musician stays silent, focusing entirely on his task. He doesn't want to miss one, after all, and have it bite him. He could get sick from that, if he's particularly unlucky, and he doesn't need Lyme disease or something while he's trying to get his music career off the ground.
He breaks the silence with an Oscar Wilde quote as Geralt's finishing up with his scalp, pushing his ear forward a little and finding a little black dot hiding back there. Apparently the musician's ears are very attractive to ticks, and it takes Geralt a few moments to figure out how to grab the thing and remove it from its awkward location. Thankfully, it's too soon after their trip for the bugs to have bitten yet, so it comes off easily enough once he can grab it.
"Not a whole lot of fourteen year old girls reading Wilde," he says, moving on from Jaskier's hair to the nape of his neck, then down his back. His skin is soft and smooth, clearly well taken care of, and there is surprising strength in the muscles of his back. A splash of color marks his side where the tattoo runs. "They're mine."
His back looks clear, but there's technically one more spot for him to check. Ticks like to hide in dark, warm places, and one of their favorite spots is just underneath waistbands in trousers or, in this case, undergarments.
"Waistband," he says as a warning, then hooks his thumbs over the edge of it and pulls it back. Not much, just enough to see a half an inch or so of extra skin, and it's just as creamy-pale and smooth as the rest of him. Geralt's mouth feels oddly dry; maybe he's a little dehydrated because of the wine.
"You're good," he takes his hands off of Jaskier, and his fingertips feel like they're tingling just a little. "You'll still need to look over the rest of you. I'd appreciate it if you could check through my hair first."
One of the downsides of having his hair long-- it's a lot to check through. But the color of it means that ticks don't blend in at all, so that's one very minor benefit to his premature gray.
no subject
Jaskier holds very still while Geralt takes the tick off of him, presumably because he's taking a gross insect out of his hair. He keeps searching for more as the musician stays silent, focusing entirely on his task. He doesn't want to miss one, after all, and have it bite him. He could get sick from that, if he's particularly unlucky, and he doesn't need Lyme disease or something while he's trying to get his music career off the ground.
He breaks the silence with an Oscar Wilde quote as Geralt's finishing up with his scalp, pushing his ear forward a little and finding a little black dot hiding back there. Apparently the musician's ears are very attractive to ticks, and it takes Geralt a few moments to figure out how to grab the thing and remove it from its awkward location. Thankfully, it's too soon after their trip for the bugs to have bitten yet, so it comes off easily enough once he can grab it.
"Not a whole lot of fourteen year old girls reading Wilde," he says, moving on from Jaskier's hair to the nape of his neck, then down his back. His skin is soft and smooth, clearly well taken care of, and there is surprising strength in the muscles of his back. A splash of color marks his side where the tattoo runs. "They're mine."
His back looks clear, but there's technically one more spot for him to check. Ticks like to hide in dark, warm places, and one of their favorite spots is just underneath waistbands in trousers or, in this case, undergarments.
"Waistband," he says as a warning, then hooks his thumbs over the edge of it and pulls it back. Not much, just enough to see a half an inch or so of extra skin, and it's just as creamy-pale and smooth as the rest of him. Geralt's mouth feels oddly dry; maybe he's a little dehydrated because of the wine.
"You're good," he takes his hands off of Jaskier, and his fingertips feel like they're tingling just a little. "You'll still need to look over the rest of you. I'd appreciate it if you could check through my hair first."
One of the downsides of having his hair long-- it's a lot to check through. But the color of it means that ticks don't blend in at all, so that's one very minor benefit to his premature gray.