Geralt keeps an eye on Jaskier's food intake-- the jerky's tough but protein is necessary for such a hard hike up the mountain. The pickles are fine, vegetables and whatnot, but he might nudge him back towards the meat if he avoids it too much. It's a perfectly rational and normal level of concern for the man.
"Hm," he replies, and now that they are so close to Kaer Morhen, the fact that Jaskier will, in fact, be interacting with Eskel and Lambert is a real and immediate reality. It's no longer just a hypothetical, the theoretical possibility that his bard might speak to his brothers, it's a terrifying and absolute certainty. And, of course, he's meeting him right after they've instituted a change in their relationship, before there's been any chance to get used to the differences.
Geralt is no oracle, but he foresees a future filled with his brothers being pricks.
He is so preoccupied with this practically prophetic prediction that Jaskier is able to easily swipe the vodka bottle from his hands. That's fine-- the bard can have a little, to warm himself up. Just not enough to get drunk, the only thing worse than this hike would be trying to do it hungover.
"You have a few virtues," he concedes, barely even responding to the bony elbow that Jaskier pokes him with. His voice is playful and flirtatious despite the frigid temperatures; perhaps Jaskier's libido is powerful enough to stand up against even the deepest chill. Or there could be no follow-through for this, just teasing and innuendo. Fine, either way.
"I won't be taking advantage of anything, including your virtues," he says, leaning in to speak into Jaskier's ear, his voice a warm rumble. Contrarily to what just came out of his mouth, he puts his hands high up on Jaskier's warm thighs, "until you're begging me for it."
Jaskier had seemed quite pleased when Geralt had talked dirty to him before; that's good enough incentive for him to continue. Learning how to bed the bard the way he likes is similar to figuring out how to hunt a new beast for the first time. Gather information, exploit weaknesses, synthesize into a solid tactical approach.
no subject
"Hm," he replies, and now that they are so close to Kaer Morhen, the fact that Jaskier will, in fact, be interacting with Eskel and Lambert is a real and immediate reality. It's no longer just a hypothetical, the theoretical possibility that his bard might speak to his brothers, it's a terrifying and absolute certainty. And, of course, he's meeting him right after they've instituted a change in their relationship, before there's been any chance to get used to the differences.
Geralt is no oracle, but he foresees a future filled with his brothers being pricks.
He is so preoccupied with this practically prophetic prediction that Jaskier is able to easily swipe the vodka bottle from his hands. That's fine-- the bard can have a little, to warm himself up. Just not enough to get drunk, the only thing worse than this hike would be trying to do it hungover.
"You have a few virtues," he concedes, barely even responding to the bony elbow that Jaskier pokes him with. His voice is playful and flirtatious despite the frigid temperatures; perhaps Jaskier's libido is powerful enough to stand up against even the deepest chill. Or there could be no follow-through for this, just teasing and innuendo. Fine, either way.
"I won't be taking advantage of anything, including your virtues," he says, leaning in to speak into Jaskier's ear, his voice a warm rumble. Contrarily to what just came out of his mouth, he puts his hands high up on Jaskier's warm thighs, "until you're begging me for it."
Jaskier had seemed quite pleased when Geralt had talked dirty to him before; that's good enough incentive for him to continue. Learning how to bed the bard the way he likes is similar to figuring out how to hunt a new beast for the first time. Gather information, exploit weaknesses, synthesize into a solid tactical approach.