[Jaskier hums into the kiss, his eyes fluttering closed. This edge of roughness is exquisite; this quiet threat as if Geralt really could become something more than man, if he so decided to. That his teeth would sharpen and he would bite. Violence hidden behind a strange, human beauty.
The scrape of teeth only sends a floaty pleasure through him, not fear. Not pain.
He does try so hard to make himself seem frightening, doesn't he? Even now. Perhaps it's not even intentional -- no, he suspects it isn't, not with him. Geralt is just a demanding sort, has always been, even if he would be the last to describe himself that way.
Oh. Yes. That's wonderful.
Jaskier hums a teasing tune.] Do you really want to take that chance? [His hand jerks around the length of him, pushing back into his nails. Let him leave marks. What does Jaskier care? As he tips the point of his chin, it's both offering and challenge.
He may need to hide them from Ciri, later, but who would really suspect Geralt first?] Old friend? You'll miss these hands much more than I'll miss yours.
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The scrape of teeth only sends a floaty pleasure through him, not fear. Not pain.
He does try so hard to make himself seem frightening, doesn't he? Even now. Perhaps it's not even intentional -- no, he suspects it isn't, not with him. Geralt is just a demanding sort, has always been, even if he would be the last to describe himself that way.
Oh. Yes. That's wonderful.
Jaskier hums a teasing tune.] Do you really want to take that chance? [His hand jerks around the length of him, pushing back into his nails. Let him leave marks. What does Jaskier care? As he tips the point of his chin, it's both offering and challenge.
He may need to hide them from Ciri, later, but who would really suspect Geralt first?] Old friend? You'll miss these hands much more than I'll miss yours.
[That one's simply a lie.]