Jaskier's lips immediately turn up into a smile. One may even call it a smirk. Public sex, even? His Witcher was getting quite spicy as of late. Jaskier ducks through the curtain, already moving through the buttons of the doublet he'd decorated up in. Already the steam of the water was leaving him feeling humid and severely overdressed.
He leaves Geralt hanging for a bit, because it is so rare for him to not jump at an answer immediately. He removes his doublet, pulling the cream chemise off underneath. The water pours from the wall, much like it did in Thorne. And though it's not as nice as the baths in Thorne, it's still better than the stifling air of the tavern when he was feeling... uncomfortable. In pain. (It's a bit better now, actually.)
And this place still has opportunity for privacy. He cannot help but note how different the space between them is now, compared to in Thorne. For obvious reasons. Geralt is free here.
Free to do as he wishes.
Or whom.
Jaskier can be coy enough for the two of them.]
More than a bit, I'd say. [He turns to Geralt, catching his pretty eyes that glow even here, in the low flickering light.] Why don't we see where the night leads us, my friend? But do not expect I'll be washing your ass for you. Again.
no subject
Jaskier's lips immediately turn up into a smile. One may even call it a smirk. Public sex, even? His Witcher was getting quite spicy as of late. Jaskier ducks through the curtain, already moving through the buttons of the doublet he'd decorated up in. Already the steam of the water was leaving him feeling humid and severely overdressed.
He leaves Geralt hanging for a bit, because it is so rare for him to not jump at an answer immediately. He removes his doublet, pulling the cream chemise off underneath. The water pours from the wall, much like it did in Thorne. And though it's not as nice as the baths in Thorne, it's still better than the stifling air of the tavern when he was feeling... uncomfortable. In pain. (It's a bit better now, actually.)
And this place still has opportunity for privacy. He cannot help but note how different the space between them is now, compared to in Thorne. For obvious reasons. Geralt is free here.
Free to do as he wishes.
Or whom.
Jaskier can be coy enough for the two of them.]
More than a bit, I'd say. [He turns to Geralt, catching his pretty eyes that glow even here, in the low flickering light.] Why don't we see where the night leads us, my friend? But do not expect I'll be washing your ass for you. Again.