[While Tech works quietly, Jaskier does not. At least, not exactly in perfect silence. As is typical of Jaskier whenever faced with a repetitive task—even one he enjoys like this—Jaskier hums to himself. It's a wordless little melody that follows the rhythm of his work between gathering various sprigs to tie them into their own little bunches and arranging them on his woven circle of willow branches. The song only stops when Tech seemingly becomes frustrated and drops his wreath down on the table. Jaskier mildly starts as his intense focus on his own wreath coupled with the quiet Tech had taken to, he'd very nearly forgotten he wasn't sitting here working entirely on his own. There's a moment of confusion when Jaskier looks at Tech's wreath since there isn't anything amiss with his work so far that would suggest or otherwise imply it's beyond Tech's ability or patience. But one look at Tech, and Jaskier pieces it together what's happening here.]
[Glancing down at his own wreath, Jaskier hides his smile and sets his latest bunch down before placing the wreath back on the table in front of him.]
Let me see it, [Jaskier says, rising out of his seat enough that he can comfortably lean over the table to pick up the offending bunch that purportedly won't cooperate. There's a playful little glint in his eyes when he looks at Tech and instead of fully rising out of his seat, he plops back down to fiddle with the little arrangement. Or at least makes a good show of doing so as it needs about as much fiddling as Tech is incapable of working on his wreath independently. The ruse doesn't last particularly long though. He hardly minds the invitation into Tech's space again even if it's such a flimsy excuse that it's nearly transparent. Jaskier turns in his seat as he's seemingly putting the finishing touches on it to bring it around to Tech. He leans down as if to make for a soothing kiss to Tech's cheek as he's passing it off to Tech, but at the last possible moment, Jaskier instead tickles at Tech's cheek with the small bundle. With a laugh, he teases by saying,] Try this, darling.
[His teasing can only last so long regardless if it's by Jaskier's own choice or because Tech snatches back his spruce. When Jaskier stops, he tries more in earnest for a kiss. Of course, whether or not Tech opts to make that easy for Jaskier after all his nonsense is entirely up to Tech, but Jaskier is more than willing to endure any leaning or shoving without complaint. He's well aware he earned it and he just must remain persistent in the wake of such obstacles and adversity, and that's certainly easy enough given the prize.]
[ When Tech's ploy doesn't work, his shoulders slump. Jaskier takes the wreath and doesn't come near immediately. Mission failed. Tech's left with nothing to fidget with in the meantime so his hands fold and he eyes Jaskier, suspicious these kisses are being intentionally withheld. It's the cruelest punishment having the space of an entire table between them! But before long Jaskier seems to realize the error of his ways and draws back in to--
....tickle his cheek with the spruce? ]
Oh my god, you're the worst!
[ Tech cries, not at all meaning it. His nose turns up as though insulted and he snatches the bundle from Jaskier's hands to remove his 'weapon.' ]
I can't believe you'd torture me like this on Christmas!
[ This is clearly the end of the world! He turns his head away from the follow up attempt to make amends with the kiss, crossing his arms and huffing. ]
I don't think I can ever forgive you.
[ Tech looks at Jaskier in a mockery of seriousness, punctuating the point with a staccato: ]
E. Ver.
[ The price of the offense is steep! Tech maintains a determination to sulk and he takes that sulk with him to the kitchen when the timer goes off -- removing the turkey and setting it atop the stove. While the bird cools, Tech twists around to face Jaskier -- hands braced behind him on the tiny counterspace. This is when the fine is issued, the penalty price Jaskier will have to pay. Tech's posture every bit beckons Jaskier to close the space between them -- maybe even ravish him in the twenty minutes they had before they could eat. The pinched sulk then becomes a challenge, a daring and sultry glance to entice the bard to try his best to make up for his crimes. ]
[Tech's theatrics only serve to send Jaskier into a fit of giggles. Try as he might to act contrite when Tech condemns him to a life—nay, an eternity without forgiveness, he can't suppress the smile or his laughter. He, at least, seems to make every effort to keep Tech there even with the timer going off, hands trying to find purchase wherever they might at Tech's clothes until he has no choice but to release him. (To some extent, anyway. Jaskier doesn't want dinner to burn any more than Tech, so there's certainly a degree to which Jaskier absolutely lets him go about his business in the kitchen ultimately unperturbed.) While Tech busies himself with the bird, Jaskier makes a small adjustment to Tech's bundle, which had been made slightly askew by its sudden snatching. He doesn't weave it into the wreath though, simply sets it down where it ought to go.]
[Jaskier's amusement only settles into something else when he glances at Tech in the kitchen again. He says nothing for a moment, simply holding Tech's gaze before he pushes Tech's abandoned chair in with a foot.]
I don't know why you're complaining so much, [he says as he crosses back over into the kitchen. He stops close in front of Tech, leaving little space between them. Lowering his voice, he says,] Torture can be sweet, too, you know.
[Starting at his elbows, Jaskier's hands slid down along his forearms, past his wrists, until he places his hands over Tech's on the edge of the countertop as if to keep them there. As he does, Jaskier leans in close, in a near-kiss as he continues,] Say for example... You won't touch me. Not even if I were to ask or beg you to.
[Ducking his head, Jaskier presses a teasing kiss to Tech's throat, his hands slipping away from Tech's hands to his hips as he finally presses himself close.]
Only if I convince you to forgive me after all. [He kisses Tech's pulse point beneath his jaw as he slips his hands beneath the hem of Tech's sweater to feel at warm skin. Lifting his head again, Jaskier meets Tech's gaze.] What do you say? Will you let me earn your forgiveness?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Glancing down at his own wreath, Jaskier hides his smile and sets his latest bunch down before placing the wreath back on the table in front of him.]
Let me see it, [Jaskier says, rising out of his seat enough that he can comfortably lean over the table to pick up the offending bunch that purportedly won't cooperate. There's a playful little glint in his eyes when he looks at Tech and instead of fully rising out of his seat, he plops back down to fiddle with the little arrangement. Or at least makes a good show of doing so as it needs about as much fiddling as Tech is incapable of working on his wreath independently. The ruse doesn't last particularly long though. He hardly minds the invitation into Tech's space again even if it's such a flimsy excuse that it's nearly transparent. Jaskier turns in his seat as he's seemingly putting the finishing touches on it to bring it around to Tech. He leans down as if to make for a soothing kiss to Tech's cheek as he's passing it off to Tech, but at the last possible moment, Jaskier instead tickles at Tech's cheek with the small bundle. With a laugh, he teases by saying,] Try this, darling.
[His teasing can only last so long regardless if it's by Jaskier's own choice or because Tech snatches back his spruce. When Jaskier stops, he tries more in earnest for a kiss. Of course, whether or not Tech opts to make that easy for Jaskier after all his nonsense is entirely up to Tech, but Jaskier is more than willing to endure any leaning or shoving without complaint. He's well aware he earned it and he just must remain persistent in the wake of such obstacles and adversity, and that's certainly easy enough given the prize.]
no subject
....tickle his cheek with the spruce? ]
Oh my god, you're the worst!
[ Tech cries, not at all meaning it. His nose turns up as though insulted and he snatches the bundle from Jaskier's hands to remove his 'weapon.' ]
I can't believe you'd torture me like this on Christmas!
[ This is clearly the end of the world! He turns his head away from the follow up attempt to make amends with the kiss, crossing his arms and huffing. ]
I don't think I can ever forgive you.
[ Tech looks at Jaskier in a mockery of seriousness, punctuating the point with a staccato: ]
E. Ver.
[ The price of the offense is steep! Tech maintains a determination to sulk and he takes that sulk with him to the kitchen when the timer goes off -- removing the turkey and setting it atop the stove. While the bird cools, Tech twists around to face Jaskier -- hands braced behind him on the tiny counterspace. This is when the fine is issued, the penalty price Jaskier will have to pay. Tech's posture every bit beckons Jaskier to close the space between them -- maybe even ravish him in the twenty minutes they had before they could eat. The pinched sulk then becomes a challenge, a daring and sultry glance to entice the bard to try his best to make up for his crimes. ]
no subject
[Jaskier's amusement only settles into something else when he glances at Tech in the kitchen again. He says nothing for a moment, simply holding Tech's gaze before he pushes Tech's abandoned chair in with a foot.]
I don't know why you're complaining so much, [he says as he crosses back over into the kitchen. He stops close in front of Tech, leaving little space between them. Lowering his voice, he says,] Torture can be sweet, too, you know.
[Starting at his elbows, Jaskier's hands slid down along his forearms, past his wrists, until he places his hands over Tech's on the edge of the countertop as if to keep them there. As he does, Jaskier leans in close, in a near-kiss as he continues,] Say for example... You won't touch me. Not even if I were to ask or beg you to.
[Ducking his head, Jaskier presses a teasing kiss to Tech's throat, his hands slipping away from Tech's hands to his hips as he finally presses himself close.]
Only if I convince you to forgive me after all. [He kisses Tech's pulse point beneath his jaw as he slips his hands beneath the hem of Tech's sweater to feel at warm skin. Lifting his head again, Jaskier meets Tech's gaze.] What do you say? Will you let me earn your forgiveness?