Jaskier pushes at him and might as well be pushing at a brick wall for all that Geralt moves. But he's angry and doesn't have anything on-hand to throw at Geralt's head, so shoving at him is apparently his only recourse. His scent, at least, settles on something that makes sense, something that Geralt can comprehend. That helps; he knows what to expect from an angry bard.

Geralt waits with what, at least in his opinion, is immense patience while Jaskier talks him through a story that Geralt clearly remembers; an incident some time ago between the bard and a pretty girl's virtue that resulted in him taking a quick exit out of a window. It had been a foolish thing for him to do, just asking for trouble, especially when there were other women with less vengeful fathers that he could've bedded. But no! Apparently this girl had a beautiful soul-- more like beautiful tits, as Geralt recalls-- which apparently justified his recklessness, at least until he was properly chastised by his witcher companion.

Now that he thinks about it, one of the reasons that he was so frustrated with Jaskier back then was because, even after he'd gone and fucked the alderman's daughter, he still smelled like lust. And it hadn't gotten any better after he told him that if he was going to act as irresponsibly as a child, than Geralt would treat him like a child and take him over his knee. In hindsight, that was perhaps... a suggestive punishment, though he didn't intend it to be.

Jaskier cups Geralt's jaw and touches his lips, and Geralt keeps his mouth soft for it. The tenderness in the bard's touch is almost unbearable.

"I won't bite you with them," he says, reaching up to gently move the bard's fingers away from his mouth while he talks. "These teeth have gnawed through a striga's throat, Jaskier. I'm not putting them anywhere near yours."

A bite too deep in the wrong place with teeth like his, and-- the result would be unthinkable. He would never be able to forgive himself, nor would he even try.