Guess who is throwing his head back to laugh? This bard. "You've obviously never admired your clothed lovely bottom on a mirror. Remind me to show you later."
Because those are definitely very, very tight pants. Jaskier hopes he manages to take them off easily, he has a reputation to maintain! But he's never pull off pants so tight, Geralt wears them like a second skin. No complaints about the view, though. (Well, except for the times when it has provoked boners at the most inopportune moments. At least he won't have to hide them during camping anymore from now on, right? Oh fuck, is Ciri coming with them and cockblocking them in between towns? Now that's a worry bigger than the pants themselves.)
Jaskier doesn't expect any coyness from Geralt, his plan is to feed him some sweet delicacies and finish the tarts faster. And it works, so he considers this a victory. Especially when Geralt finally stands and drags him away - aww, yes, this is exactly what he's been wishing for. With a grin that could almost split his face, Jaskier winks at the whistlers and waves at his audience, readily throwing himself at Geralt as soon as they are out of the dining hall. He hugs that thick arm with both of his and presses his body against the witcher's, keeping his voice low but sultry as they walk through to the hallways to their room.
"If we weren't surrounded by people, I'd ask you to pick me up and carry me to bed. My skin still tingles at the memory of your hands pushing me on that desk."
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Because those are definitely very, very tight pants. Jaskier hopes he manages to take them off easily, he has a reputation to maintain! But he's never pull off pants so tight, Geralt wears them like a second skin. No complaints about the view, though. (Well, except for the times when it has provoked boners at the most inopportune moments. At least he won't have to hide them during camping anymore from now on, right? Oh fuck, is Ciri coming with them and cockblocking them in between towns? Now that's a worry bigger than the pants themselves.)
Jaskier doesn't expect any coyness from Geralt, his plan is to feed him some sweet delicacies and finish the tarts faster. And it works, so he considers this a victory. Especially when Geralt finally stands and drags him away - aww, yes, this is exactly what he's been wishing for. With a grin that could almost split his face, Jaskier winks at the whistlers and waves at his audience, readily throwing himself at Geralt as soon as they are out of the dining hall. He hugs that thick arm with both of his and presses his body against the witcher's, keeping his voice low but sultry as they walk through to the hallways to their room.
"If we weren't surrounded by people, I'd ask you to pick me up and carry me to bed. My skin still tingles at the memory of your hands pushing me on that desk."