The nickname is nice to hear in public, but something else distracts him. Jaskier frowns, genuinely confused, and analyses that statement in his head before continuing. After their last few arguments, he's learned to take certain Geralt-related concepts more carefully, otherwise he could start another awkward because you've only bedded whores situation.
"I'm not sure if you're saying that because of ludicrous witcher logic, thinking you don't deserve to be romanced, or because of society's view of relationships, thinking seduction and foreplay aren't needed anymore once you get together. Either way: horseshit. We may fuck one hundred times and I'll still do my best to sweep you off your feet with song, Geralt. What good is love for if I don't express it and make my beloved feel cherished?"
Back in the inn a few days ago, Jaskier had pushed bread and cheese in Geralt's hands because the witcher hadn't been eating. Always taking awful care of himself, this one. This time, however, Jaskier has seen him go for a couple of bowls of stew, and he continues to drink right now (good ale, not piss!), so he doesn't mind having the tart offer turned down. More for himself!
Sadly, he chokes on it when he hears that last comment. Jaskier pulls away from Geralt, mouth open in shock, finger being raised for the obligatory dramatics that Geralt is already used to. The nerve! The scandal! The asshole!
"I didn't hear you complain about my talents back in that classroom!" To make his point, he undoes the first two buttons of his doublet, showing off the marks that decorate his neck. Their thighs are still brushing, but his head and hand don't go back to rest on Geralt - he rests his elbows on the table instead, legs crossing as the dandy he is. "Maybe you should have a chat with your nipples, let them decide what they truly think of my skilled fingers."
And speaking of fingers... he dips two in one of the tarts to bring cream and strawberry to his mouth and veeeeery slowly wrap his lips around them, licking all the food off. He keeps his eyes closed while doing this, not matter if he's dying to look at Geralt, because he's that much of a petty drama queen.
no subject
The nickname is nice to hear in public, but something else distracts him. Jaskier frowns, genuinely confused, and analyses that statement in his head before continuing. After their last few arguments, he's learned to take certain Geralt-related concepts more carefully, otherwise he could start another awkward because you've only bedded whores situation.
"I'm not sure if you're saying that because of ludicrous witcher logic, thinking you don't deserve to be romanced, or because of society's view of relationships, thinking seduction and foreplay aren't needed anymore once you get together. Either way: horseshit. We may fuck one hundred times and I'll still do my best to sweep you off your feet with song, Geralt. What good is love for if I don't express it and make my beloved feel cherished?"
Back in the inn a few days ago, Jaskier had pushed bread and cheese in Geralt's hands because the witcher hadn't been eating. Always taking awful care of himself, this one. This time, however, Jaskier has seen him go for a couple of bowls of stew, and he continues to drink right now (good ale, not piss!), so he doesn't mind having the tart offer turned down. More for himself!
Sadly, he chokes on it when he hears that last comment. Jaskier pulls away from Geralt, mouth open in shock, finger being raised for the obligatory dramatics that Geralt is already used to. The nerve! The scandal! The asshole!
"I didn't hear you complain about my talents back in that classroom!" To make his point, he undoes the first two buttons of his doublet, showing off the marks that decorate his neck. Their thighs are still brushing, but his head and hand don't go back to rest on Geralt - he rests his elbows on the table instead, legs crossing as the dandy he is. "Maybe you should have a chat with your nipples, let them decide what they truly think of my skilled fingers."
And speaking of fingers... he dips two in one of the tarts to bring cream and strawberry to his mouth and veeeeery slowly wrap his lips around them, licking all the food off. He keeps his eyes closed while doing this, not matter if he's dying to look at Geralt, because he's that much of a petty drama queen.