[ He rolls his eyes. Some of the spell breaks, though not in an unpleasant way. He lets Jaskier have the kiss, because he wants it, too, but this time instead of pulling back when it's over, he gives Jaskier a light push away. ]
Like you fucked a bruxa.
[ There's fondness that he doesn't try to pretend isn't lingering. Geralt doesn't often stop to deeply examine what he's feeling and he doesn't do so now. He knows he enjoyed it, that Jaskier did as well, and that's enough. What else may be there is inconsequential.
The rest of their time is no less easy. Eventually, he hauls himself out of the bath, throws a towel at Jaskier's face, and does, in fact, wait for the bard outside. Because Jaskier always takes far longer to put himself together than Geralt, who's slipped on his shirt and tied back his still damp hair with little care.
It's a warm night, but no longer oppressive with the heat of two months ago. For a moment, he can almost say being here isn't the worst thing. ]
no subject
Like you fucked a bruxa.
[ There's fondness that he doesn't try to pretend isn't lingering. Geralt doesn't often stop to deeply examine what he's feeling and he doesn't do so now. He knows he enjoyed it, that Jaskier did as well, and that's enough. What else may be there is inconsequential.
The rest of their time is no less easy. Eventually, he hauls himself out of the bath, throws a towel at Jaskier's face, and does, in fact, wait for the bard outside. Because Jaskier always takes far longer to put himself together than Geralt, who's slipped on his shirt and tied back his still damp hair with little care.
It's a warm night, but no longer oppressive with the heat of two months ago. For a moment, he can almost say being here isn't the worst thing. ]