[Even less talkative than usual. Well, if that's how it must be. Jaskier raises his arms, aiding Geralt in the quick removal of his clothing (yes, he could simply turn it to nothing, but this heated touching, the tugging and ripping, is far more attractive an option.)

Then there he is, naked before the tree and Geralt. Good thing he'd made sure these blankets were so damn soft.

He bites his lip. It's the wine that makes Geralt's fingers so terribly warm, he thinks.]

Oh? This is new. A polite inquiry? [He pulls a bit of Geralt's hair, widening the spread of his legs.] Or a slightly raunchy question? Hmmm. How about: will you show me a lovely time, kissing me until stars burst behind my eyes?

Or: will you hold me down and fuck me, already? Don't make me wait.