[ The raise of his eyebrow is wry. ] Too well. Unfortunately.
[ It isn't often he lets himself relax. Here with Jaskier and an ocean breeze, he does so, allowing his mind to think of very little except the simplest, basest of things: the lock of hair in Jaskier's eyes that makes him want to flick it, the spark of heat in his friend's gaze.
Those long fingers. They wrap around his hand. He allows that, too.
A low sound greets that remark. He lifts the bottle back to his lips, a casual gesture. Jaskier is close enough he can feel the heat from his skin. ] Don't know what the fuck you mean.
[ Not at all. Except he obviously does, a fact he makes known when he tugs Jaskier in the rest of the way to kiss him. It is not teasing, and it is not coy. He just kisses him, much the same as he does everything else—because he wants to, because he can, because Jaskier will not deny him. He can smell it in the air, that human curl of desire. Radiates off of Jaskier in waves. ]
no subject
[ It isn't often he lets himself relax. Here with Jaskier and an ocean breeze, he does so, allowing his mind to think of very little except the simplest, basest of things: the lock of hair in Jaskier's eyes that makes him want to flick it, the spark of heat in his friend's gaze.
Those long fingers. They wrap around his hand. He allows that, too.
A low sound greets that remark. He lifts the bottle back to his lips, a casual gesture. Jaskier is close enough he can feel the heat from his skin. ] Don't know what the fuck you mean.
[ Not at all. Except he obviously does, a fact he makes known when he tugs Jaskier in the rest of the way to kiss him. It is not teasing, and it is not coy. He just kisses him, much the same as he does everything else—because he wants to, because he can, because Jaskier will not deny him. He can smell it in the air, that human curl of desire. Radiates off of Jaskier in waves. ]