Honey, happiness and arousal, because the fact he can get Geralt to make such erotic noises is a turn-on all by itself. The witcher chases after his lips, needing more, he grabs his and breathes him and Jaskier can just get drunk in this feeling. For such an amazing man -old and powerful, with senses that allow him to feel in ways he can't even start to imagine- to be so aroused by a mere human like him, well, it's simply... intoxicating.

Jaskier's body react easily to every touch: he throws his head back to offer his neck, groaning at the bite, and his legs close around Geralt as soon as he comes closer. How fond is he of this doublet? Honestly, Jaskier is fond of all his doublets. They're fine silks, not exactly cheap. But tonight is a special occasion, and there's no way they're getting interrupted again thanks to Eskel. He has a whole winter ahead of him to sew and well...

A fantasy to fulfill.

Twenty years of pining and awkward boners... time to fucking celebrate.

His arms are thrown around Geralt's shoulders and Jaskier licks his ear before whispering against it.

"Throw me on the bed and rip it."

If that doesn't show how much he loves him, honestly, nothing will.