Geralt, looking down at his armor: What? It has great specs.
Jaskier: If by specs you mean "boobs", then sure.
Geralt: It's supposed to protect me during combat!
Jaskier: And it will! Instead of trying to kill you, your opponents will start drooling over you! You sure got me drooling.
Jaskier: It was supposed to be a dumb joke, but then Geralt just grabbed me by the front of my shirt and kissed me. I'm not even mad, I love that ridiculous armor
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While reading in his bed, Lambert overhears a conversation coming from Jaskier's bedroom next door.
Jaskier: *chuckling* I'll take that as a yes.
Geralt: Oh, fuck. Yes. Right there, ugh. How are you so good with your hands?
Jaskier: Guess I just know how to make you feel good.
Lambert: *buries his face into his pillow and groans*
*the next morning*
Lambert: Hey, Geralt?
Lambert: Next time you're busy fucking your bard, can you please gag him? And maybe gag yourself, too.
Jaskier: ...What are you talking about?
Lambert: I overhead your little conversation last night.
Jaskier: Oh, you mean when I was giving him a massage?
Lmabert: ...A what?
Jaskier: Mhmm. Sorry, we'll keep it down next time.
Jaskier: And by the way, if we were actually doing it, I would've at least made him scream-
Geralt, not blushing at all: Jaskier.
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Geralt: There's a contract about a vampire on some town's dilapidated castle, I'm off to go deal with it
Jaskier: Can I come along?
Jaskier: Pretty please! I promise I'll behave
Geralt: Ugh fine
Jaskier: Yay! Thanks Geralt, you won't regret this
Jaskier while Geralt's trying to deal with the contract:
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