[Jaskier laughs, tipping his head back. Geralt is a fucking idiot. He's said it -- okay, he's thought it far more, but he has a feeling Geralt knows. Geralt drunk is somehow even more ridiculous.
He is a bit more fun, though.]
You think too much. [Can a idiot think too much? Absolutely. An idiot can also be philosophical, apparently.] What's that, Geralt? You mean to doubt yourself now? You've always managed to find them before.
[It's thoughtless, the way he does it. How he says the words, and how, when they are done, he leans over and grabs Geralt by the chin, kissing him.
Unsurprisingly, he tastes of alcohol.
It's the Jaskier way. He does it because he wants to, and then sits back, satisfied with himself.] You need to drink more often. Faaaar less sullen. [He slides a finger over his lips, smiling to himself. With a laugh, he adds:] Much more likely to talk of horses.
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He is a bit more fun, though.]
You think too much. [Can a idiot think too much? Absolutely. An idiot can also be philosophical, apparently.] What's that, Geralt? You mean to doubt yourself now? You've always managed to find them before.
[It's thoughtless, the way he does it. How he says the words, and how, when they are done, he leans over and grabs Geralt by the chin, kissing him.
Unsurprisingly, he tastes of alcohol.
It's the Jaskier way. He does it because he wants to, and then sits back, satisfied with himself.] You need to drink more often. Faaaar less sullen. [He
slides a finger over his lips, smiling to himself. With a laugh, he adds:] Much more likely to talk of horses.