[ sam does notice the joke - doesn't notice the almost familiar way that jaskier folds himself into it, but he can also see the disconnect somewhere amidst it all. something about it doesn't ring true, whether it's because sam suddenly isn't confident in anything where jaskier is concerned, or if it's something jaskier gives away. sam's not sure, which is a strange place to be, but that doesn't mean he won't try.
he does feel himself smile just a bit at jaskier's words - a little pushy. ]
It's not rude when I'm asking your honest opinion. [ though his smile is still there - even if it's a bit smaller. a bit less bright. he's still figuring out what this is, what this all means, but it's not dissuading him. ] Plus, I could be a lot pushier. A lot. [ but with each passing moment, sam feels like he's getting his footing again. like this could maybe be something they bridge.
he also does notice the hand jaskier doesn't offer. links it back to what jaskier had been staring at, before sam had sat down. they are pieces of a puzzle that is just beginning to come together, but they are starting to form, and sam feels something a bit like confidence form alongside it. his hand curls around the one jaskier does offer, before he pulls it up and presses a kiss to his knuckles. quick. simple. like it was a normal thing they did and do. then sam pulls away, flashes another (now brighter) smile, and reaches for the pitcher - filling them both up. ]
Because I have an idea that might cover both of those. But we'll have to finish this pitcher, first. [ sam reaches over with one hand (the second still holding jaskier's) and sets the now full pull in front of the bard, and then in front of him. ] And then you'll have to come home with me. [ a wink, a smirk, and then sam is picking up his mug and settling back where he's still seated - astride the bench - facing jaskier. he holds it up for a cheers, his smile looking a bit like he's scheming and a bit like he's just lightening the mood. ] If it's true that you really can't deny me.
no subject
he does feel himself smile just a bit at jaskier's words - a little pushy. ]
It's not rude when I'm asking your honest opinion. [ though his smile is still there - even if it's a bit smaller. a bit less bright. he's still figuring out what this is, what this all means, but it's not dissuading him. ] Plus, I could be a lot pushier. A lot. [ but with each passing moment, sam feels like he's getting his footing again. like this could maybe be something they bridge.
he also does notice the hand jaskier doesn't offer. links it back to what jaskier had been staring at, before sam had sat down. they are pieces of a puzzle that is just beginning to come together, but they are starting to form, and sam feels something a bit like confidence form alongside it. his hand curls around the one jaskier does offer, before he pulls it up and presses a kiss to his knuckles. quick. simple. like it was a normal thing they did and do. then sam pulls away, flashes another (now brighter) smile, and reaches for the pitcher - filling them both up. ]
Because I have an idea that might cover both of those. But we'll have to finish this pitcher, first. [ sam reaches over with one hand (the second still holding jaskier's) and sets the now full pull in front of the bard, and then in front of him. ] And then you'll have to come home with me. [ a wink, a smirk, and then sam is picking up his mug and settling back where he's still seated - astride the bench - facing jaskier. he holds it up for a cheers, his smile looking a bit like he's scheming and a bit like he's just lightening the mood. ] If it's true that you really can't deny me.