[Jaskier raises a brow towards him. That sounds, stunningly, like a challenge.] You haven't, have you?
[As curious as he is to know, exactly, how many songs of his Blake thinkgs he's heard, he can hardly be deterred long from the gift the man's come for in the first place -- for he grabs them, inspecting their craftsmanship, tracing the careful threads and the new stiffness of them. Then he slips them on with a smile, stretching out his fingers.]
Fits like a glove. [He doesn't need to see Blake's reaction to know it wasn't funny, but he must say it.] Your craftsmanship? They're lovely, Blake. Thank you.
[And despite all his sauciness about them, Blake will get a kiss on the cheek for them, should he be willing to take it.]
Well, since you asked... [He hardly needs remove them for this. And honestly, it is one of Jaskier's favorites, if only because it brings a fond memory of him and Gordon. Bless Gordon's little mousey heart. He's probably dead by now.] This show will do.
[Jaskier, without any further prompting, retrieves two spoons from his kitchen and returns, already bopping them against his palm. Testing them. The tone is acceptable. And then he sings, doing a little jig around Blake as he does so.
You think he hasn't a song for being jailed? Of course he does.]
[ He tips his head at the question and the compliment — his craftmanship, indeed — and he'd come in the door ready to be proud and obsessive over it, but instead he's given this silly spoon show and it's exactly what's needed to draw him away from his perfectionism and pride in workmanship.
His smile turns to a grin and a laugh is quickly followed by a shake of his head. Of course he has a song for being jailed. Of course. The short, catchy little ditty tickles the hidden ruffian in Blake and he worries almost instantly that melody and half the chorus will get stuck in his head.
When Jaskier finishes, Blake crosses his arms, chin tipped up a bit. ]
That's real good an' all, but it didn't exactly tell me what happened, did it? Pretty sure that's false advertisin'.
[ False advertising, like Jaskier's face, which Blake reads a much younger than quoted. And his proper name, of which Blake is also guilty of hiding (and entirely unaware of at this juncture), but that's not the point. ]
Y'know, I was in law enforcement back home...
[ He sucks his teeth, smile lines still crinkling around his eyes from his amusement. It's always a toss-up how people feel about this fact, so he saves his next breath for the right flirty angle. ]
[All of that -- a private performance -- and he isn't satisfied? Jaskier clicks his tongue, turning away as he places the spoons back where he got them from. (They'll be washed eventually.) Nevermind the initial point of it; that Blake is able to speak words at all after such a thrilling voice such as his own is testament enough to his lack of appreciation.] I am starting to see my talent is wasted upon you. [You've lost private performance privileges.] I'm sure you can think of something appropriately raunchy to fill in the lines.
[Mostly because -- well, he's not hesitant to explain he was thrown in a cell for peeping in a whorehouse, but because he was peeping to find Yennefer in the midst of their running-from-the-men-whose-balls-she'd-kicked fiasco, only to find her disappear, so --
It was all a mess. And in his past. Merely worth mentioning he'd only been jailed, officially, the once.]
Yes? [Jaskier leans against his counters, raising his brows in response.] And what law were you enforcing? No offense, but you don't really have the physique of a king's bodyguard or anything.
[ Blake huffs, arms crossing. Two can play at this game. ]
And I'm startin' to see my physique's wasted on you. [ He raises an eyebrow, challenging, mocking. ] Yes?
[ His expression leans cocky and he gestures over nothing at all, far too apt to use his hands to say all the things he won't. Like how this feels sporting and silly and not a personal as it could be. Honestly, he likes Jaskier's music far more than he's willing to say now that he's met the man and knows his shameless need for attention and praise. He's cute even when he's perturbed. ]
[While the bit of mocking is exactly the sort of childish thing that gets Jaskier absolutely riled up, he can't help but find it positively adorable coming from Blake -- not because he knows much of him, but because his face is so boyish and young, albeit quite handsome.
It makes him laugh, actually. Mayhaps this law enforcer has some charisma to him.
Jaskier crosses the distance between them, drawing one of his freshly gloved hands down Blake's chest.] I've only seen so much of it. Perhaps I stand to be corrected.
[ Blake doesn't step back at Jaskier's invasion, his expression unchanging as he studies the bard's approach. But the hand down his chest is caught and kept, brought together between Blake's fingers. His eyebrow raises slightly while holding Jaskier gently around the wrist, thumb plucking at the button and clasp like the string of an instrument. ]
Perhaps you do.
[ He pops the button and makes movesto slide the glove from Jaskier's hand, unsheathing him for lack of a better term. His own reaction to the other man's goading has him realizing there are likely revisions to be made to those gloves to make them more useful to the recipient. ]
[Not as smooth as Jaskier has seen, but he's all the more besotted with him for the lack of perfection. He has lovely hands, too. It helps. Long fingers, roughened somewhat by work.
His lips curl.] You know, I almost wonder if you crafted those gloves specifically for such maneuvers.
[He reaches up with his now naked hand to brush the tip of Blake's nose, a tease.] So, Ser Law Enforcer? What law do you believe I'm breaking?
[ The insinuation is met with a raised eyebrow and he's about to rebuff the very prescient accusation when— ]
Did you just... boop my nose?
[ Talk about embarrassing. Blake feels a bit like he's been cast in the role of a puppy or a child. Like maybe he's misread very obvious signs of attraction and he's instead at risk of being outed as an easy mark and an incredible fool.
He huffs. It's a laugh. A calm your tits exhalation all for himself. Some days are more difficult than others and today he wants to give this man he likes the benefit of the doubt. So, he jokes. ]
You wanna pat my head while you're at it?
[ His tongue is literally in his cheek while he waits to see how Jaskier chooses to respond. ]
[That smile of Jaskier's has never been less smarmy.] Possibly. [Though he has no idea what boop is meant to mean, or if that is a word at all. It sounds more like a noise.]
You're a sensitive sort, aren't you? [Jaskier isn't laughing at him, but he can't help but be amused. Nadine thought it was cute. Jaskier thinks it's cute. He likes every sort of touch.
Men. Honestly.]
Depends on which head you mean. Though I certainly wouldn't say no to either -- your hair looks lovely. Soft. [He offers his hands.] I'm sure I could give you a scalp massage that would make you forget your name.
[Or other touches. Perhaps he should be more serious, if Blake means to be so sensitive.]
[ Jaskier knows exactly what he offers and still Blake wants to accuse him of undermining the idea with nonchalance. A haircut rates as phenomenal (and he's had that lately), but a scalp massage would be blissful and it's hard to ignore the offer. Hell, it's hard to ignore either option, especially for how hard up Blake's been, but there are far too many questions floating around about Jaskier's status among certain invidivuals (mainly Geralt) that keeps Blake from taking too many forward steps. It's just one of those things, right? Best to not be the asshole if physical intimacy would cause issues elsewhere. ]
Honestly? Points for not goin' straight to the crotch, 'cause it's happened before. Real sweet of you to offer, though. Really.
[ He means it, too, in that way any person would when offered some level of service from a person too famous for all that. It might even show in the downturn of his gaze as he tries to hide his appreciation in the form of scorched red ears. His thumb rubs over the fingers of the glove in his hand and he clears his throat. ]
Anyway, I'm gonna take these. Make some changes. Cut the tips. So, um. So you can wear 'em when you play, y'know?
[When he finds out Blake is attempting to preserve some honor to the spirit of monogomy -- oh, there will be some amusement had. The idea that someone does not quite easily realize Jaskier is with Nadine, as well as whoever he sets his sights upon, hardly occurs to him anymore.
Jaskier gifts him a smile.] I have manners. And tact, more importantly.
[But he only ever offers exactly what he means to give. 'Tis a shame Blake always seems to turn him down. Twice, even -- that's twice more than usual.] Life is too short for you to hesitate to ask for what you want.
[Perhaps he's young enough that the lesson still needs to be learned.
If it's only a matter of embarrassment, though -- Jaskier can appreciate the beauty in pink cheeks or red ears. They're rare enough as it is.] So you came here to give me a gift, then take it back by the end? I hope you're not regretting coming. [When he plays? He's never even considered such a thing. His fingertips are calloused for a reason... but it's sweet of him.] I think they're perfect as they are.
[ Manners, tact, magnetism: Jaskier is stuffed full of something resembling those qualities, a beacon of interest to Blake. He typically agrees with this man's mentality — life is too short and monogomy is overrated — but the hesitance isn't related to the awkwardness of courtship or the act so much as boundaries. Between Blake's walls and Jaskier's swath of (rumored) sexual conquests, it could be far too easy to put a pin on someone's chair.
Blake stretches the gloves between his fingers, regarding them for their lack of perfection. He could have waited until he was fully happy with his work but he hadn't. Mostly because he'd been eager to see Jaskier and willing to accept some level of less-than-perfect to make it happen. It feels less appropriate the more he thinks about it if only because he's such a damn perfectionist normally. ]
Maybe I was lookin' for an excuse to see you again.
[ He dissolves into a friendly stance, offering out the leather piece. Jaskier can make the choice whether to keep them as-is or allow Blake a second chance. In a way, isn't he asking for what he wants? Maybe. If you squint. ]
[Hardly rumours at all. But Jaskier is so open with everything he does, the idea that someone would not approach him for the reasons so many do simply doesn't rise into his thought process. He hardly hides that Nadine is his primary lover -- but they also share those who are willing to share. Not to mention his music fans, several tavern workers, the flutist and drummer he's played with in the past, the artists in Libertas...
Ah. So that's how it is.
Jaskier takes Blake's hands, holding the gloves -- they really are quite lovely, ans especially so because they were made for him -- and closes Blake's hands over the gloves. The bard kisses him on the cheek.]
You hardly need one when you have an invitation. [Which is what that kiss is. For him, it's as casual as one can offer without pushing a boundary.] But I understand what it is to crave perfection in your work. Oh, if anyone knows, it is me. And with this... I want to see your own perfection.
[ To receive something as sweet and subtle as a kiss on the cheek feels utterly ludicris in lieu of their conversation, but somehow it does what it's meant to do in appeasing the very prickly side of Blake. On frequent occasions and in common company, he can be as raunchy as the day is long, but there is a particular side of Blake that is taken aback by attention and attentiveness. Too much and he feels burned by the spotlight, but in the right measure and with sincerity, it works wonders to help pry open the once-tight guard, now in recovery.
It's strange, possibly addictive. He hates to be seen but loves to be known, and it seems the Summoned are uncommonly good at doing just that. ]
I'd love a chance to show you that.
[ It's so genuine it hurts a little, and he almost leaves it there, but decides better of it. ]
And if there's anything else you wanna see, I'll make the time. For you.
[Jaskier's smile is private, but quite knowing. He senses Blake wants to prove something to him, though they're still drunkenly stumbling up the path of getting to know one another. He's not sure what that is beyond his apparent skills in tailoring, but he is eager to see it nonetheless.]
I can be patient for what is important. This, I think, is utmost.
[Jaskier releases the gloves back into Blake's care, stepping back with a little spin as he turns back at that last offering. Though there's so much he could ask for, nothing comes to mind... until, he thinks, that Blake would be a perfect candidate. He knows Geralt already. And Blake's already here to receive the coin bag Jaskier has set aside.
His lips curl up, vulpine.] I do have something you could do for me, come to think of it...
[What's wrong with setting up a little date when the point is to give to charity?]
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[As curious as he is to know, exactly, how many songs of his Blake thinkgs he's heard, he can hardly be deterred long from the gift the man's come for in the first place -- for he grabs them, inspecting their craftsmanship, tracing the careful threads and the new stiffness of them. Then he slips them on with a smile, stretching out his fingers.]
Fits like a glove. [He doesn't need to see Blake's reaction to know it wasn't funny, but he must say it.] Your craftsmanship? They're lovely, Blake. Thank you.
[And despite all his sauciness about them, Blake will get a kiss on the cheek for them, should he be willing to take it.]
Well, since you asked... [He hardly needs remove them for this. And honestly, it is one of Jaskier's favorites, if only because it brings a fond memory of him and Gordon. Bless Gordon's little mousey heart. He's probably dead by now.] This show will do.
[Jaskier, without any further prompting, retrieves two spoons from his kitchen and returns, already bopping them against his palm. Testing them. The tone is acceptable. And then he sings, doing a little jig around Blake as he does so.
You think he hasn't a song for being jailed? Of course he does.]
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His smile turns to a grin and a laugh is quickly followed by a shake of his head. Of course he has a song for being jailed. Of course. The short, catchy little ditty tickles the hidden ruffian in Blake and he worries almost instantly that melody and half the chorus will get stuck in his head.
When Jaskier finishes, Blake crosses his arms, chin tipped up a bit. ]
That's real good an' all, but it didn't exactly tell me what happened, did it? Pretty sure that's false advertisin'.
[ False advertising, like Jaskier's face, which Blake reads a much younger than quoted. And his proper name, of which Blake is also guilty of hiding (and entirely unaware of at this juncture), but that's not the point. ]
Y'know, I was in law enforcement back home...
[ He sucks his teeth, smile lines still crinkling around his eyes from his amusement. It's always a toss-up how people feel about this fact, so he saves his next breath for the right flirty angle. ]
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[Mostly because -- well, he's not hesitant to explain he was thrown in a cell for peeping in a whorehouse, but because he was peeping to find Yennefer in the midst of their running-from-the-men-whose-balls-she'd-kicked fiasco, only to find her disappear, so --
It was all a mess. And in his past. Merely worth mentioning he'd only been jailed, officially, the once.]
Yes? [Jaskier leans against his counters, raising his brows in response.] And what law were you enforcing? No offense, but you don't really have the physique of a king's bodyguard or anything.
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And I'm startin' to see my physique's wasted on you. [ He raises an eyebrow, challenging, mocking. ] Yes?
[ His expression leans cocky and he gestures over nothing at all, far too apt to use his hands to say all the things he won't. Like how this feels sporting and silly and not a personal as it could be. Honestly, he likes Jaskier's music far more than he's willing to say now that he's met the man and knows his shameless need for attention and praise. He's cute even when he's perturbed. ]
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It makes him laugh, actually. Mayhaps this law enforcer has some charisma to him.
Jaskier crosses the distance between them, drawing one of his freshly gloved hands down Blake's chest.] I've only seen so much of it. Perhaps I stand to be corrected.
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Perhaps you do.
[ He pops the button and makes movesto slide the glove from Jaskier's hand, unsheathing him for lack of a better term. His own reaction to the other man's goading has him realizing there are likely revisions to be made to those gloves to make them more useful to the recipient. ]
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His lips curl.] You know, I almost wonder if you crafted those gloves specifically for such maneuvers.
[He reaches up with his now naked hand to brush the tip of Blake's nose, a tease.] So, Ser Law Enforcer? What law do you believe I'm breaking?
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Did you just... boop my nose?
[ Talk about embarrassing. Blake feels a bit like he's been cast in the role of a puppy or a child. Like maybe he's misread very obvious signs of attraction and he's instead at risk of being outed as an easy mark and an incredible fool.
He huffs. It's a laugh. A calm your tits exhalation all for himself. Some days are more difficult than others and today he wants to give this man he likes the benefit of the doubt. So, he jokes. ]
You wanna pat my head while you're at it?
[ His tongue is literally in his cheek while he waits to see how Jaskier chooses to respond. ]
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You're a sensitive sort, aren't you? [Jaskier isn't laughing at him, but he can't help but be amused. Nadine thought it was cute. Jaskier thinks it's cute. He likes every sort of touch.
Men. Honestly.]
Depends on which head you mean. Though I certainly wouldn't say no to either -- your hair looks lovely. Soft. [He offers his hands.] I'm sure I could give you a scalp massage that would make you forget your name.
[Or other touches. Perhaps he should be more serious, if Blake means to be so sensitive.]
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Honestly? Points for not goin' straight to the crotch, 'cause it's happened before. Real sweet of you to offer, though. Really.
[ He means it, too, in that way any person would when offered some level of service from a person too famous for all that. It might even show in the downturn of his gaze as he tries to hide his appreciation in the form of scorched red ears. His thumb rubs over the fingers of the glove in his hand and he clears his throat. ]
Anyway, I'm gonna take these. Make some changes. Cut the tips. So, um. So you can wear 'em when you play, y'know?
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Jaskier gifts him a smile.] I have manners. And tact, more importantly.
[But he only ever offers exactly what he means to give. 'Tis a shame Blake always seems to turn him down. Twice, even -- that's twice more than usual.] Life is too short for you to hesitate to ask for what you want.
[Perhaps he's young enough that the lesson still needs to be learned.
If it's only a matter of embarrassment, though -- Jaskier can appreciate the beauty in pink cheeks or red ears. They're rare enough as it is.] So you came here to give me a gift, then take it back by the end? I hope you're not regretting coming. [When he plays? He's never even considered such a thing. His fingertips are calloused for a reason... but it's sweet of him.] I think they're perfect as they are.
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Blake stretches the gloves between his fingers, regarding them for their lack of perfection. He could have waited until he was fully happy with his work but he hadn't. Mostly because he'd been eager to see Jaskier and willing to accept some level of less-than-perfect to make it happen. It feels less appropriate the more he thinks about it if only because he's such a damn perfectionist normally. ]
Maybe I was lookin' for an excuse to see you again.
[ He dissolves into a friendly stance, offering out the leather piece. Jaskier can make the choice whether to keep them as-is or allow Blake a second chance. In a way, isn't he asking for what he wants? Maybe. If you squint. ]
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Ah. So that's how it is.
Jaskier takes Blake's hands, holding the gloves -- they really are quite lovely, ans especially so because they were made for him -- and closes Blake's hands over the gloves. The bard kisses him on the cheek.]
You hardly need one when you have an invitation. [Which is what that kiss is. For him, it's as casual as one can offer without pushing a boundary.] But I understand what it is to crave perfection in your work. Oh, if anyone knows, it is me. And with this... I want to see your own perfection.
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It's strange, possibly addictive. He hates to be seen but loves to be known, and it seems the Summoned are uncommonly good at doing just that. ]
I'd love a chance to show you that.
[ It's so genuine it hurts a little, and he almost leaves it there, but decides better of it. ]
And if there's anything else you wanna see, I'll make the time. For you.
wrap? 🎀
I can be patient for what is important. This, I think, is utmost.
[Jaskier releases the gloves back into Blake's care, stepping back with a little spin as he turns back at that last offering. Though there's so much he could ask for, nothing comes to mind... until, he thinks, that Blake would be a perfect candidate. He knows Geralt already. And Blake's already here to receive the coin bag Jaskier has set aside.
His lips curl up, vulpine.] I do have something you could do for me, come to think of it...
[What's wrong with setting up a little date when the point is to give to charity?]