( God bless you, Nadine, for being the only one not actively roasting him. He pulls a face at pearl clutching, equal parts affronted and bewildered. Mouths back pearl-clutch? and then decides he immediately needs a drink. Possibly several drinks, but he'll at least start with downing this entire glass ASAP thank you very much.
This is irrelevant unless you're seeking to join.
He chokes on his drink. Ale spurts out of the cup, sloshing over his chin and dripping onto his shirt. Abort, abort drinking, abort the drink, suck down oxygen, avoid a near-drowning experience here at this table right now.
He coughs, hacks, shakes his head emphatically. )
Nope. No- ( He insists hoarsely but so politely with a super not at all forced polite smile levelled at Jaskier. ) I'm good. I'm. No, thank you. I'm just- I'm trying to do the math here, is all.
( He takes a moment to drag his hand over his mouth, to wipe away and shake off the escaped booze. )
Just- so I'm a hundred percent clear. Everybody here is fucking each other, and everyone else is okay with it. Even- you and you. Just. Going to town.
( Geralt and Jaskier, he means.
Because his brain is circling back to that part of the equation, that little absolute Galaxy-brain mindfuck nugget in this multiversal who knows what polycule. He's trying to reconcile this. He really is. He's not judging, this is not judgment, it's-
Geralt. Manly, badass, John Winchester approved peak specimen of testosterone. Is having sex with a dude. Geralt and Jaskier, routinely boning down.
no subject
This is irrelevant unless you're seeking to join.
He chokes on his drink. Ale spurts out of the cup, sloshing over his chin and dripping onto his shirt. Abort, abort drinking, abort the drink, suck down oxygen, avoid a near-drowning experience here at this table right now.
He coughs, hacks, shakes his head emphatically. )
Nope. No- ( He insists hoarsely but so politely with a super not at all forced polite smile levelled at Jaskier. ) I'm good. I'm. No, thank you. I'm just- I'm trying to do the math here, is all.
( He takes a moment to drag his hand over his mouth, to wipe away and shake off the escaped booze. )
Just- so I'm a hundred percent clear. Everybody here is fucking each other, and everyone else is okay with it. Even- you and you. Just. Going to town.
( Geralt and Jaskier, he means.
Because his brain is circling back to that part of the equation, that little absolute Galaxy-brain mindfuck nugget in this multiversal who knows what polycule. He's trying to reconcile this. He really is. He's not judging, this is not judgment, it's-
Geralt. Manly, badass, John Winchester approved peak specimen of testosterone. Is having sex with a dude. Geralt and Jaskier, routinely boning down.
A moment passes. )
Are you sure?
( JUST CHECKING )