jaskier used to love using fragrant oils in his baths, his hair, on his wrists. things like apple and cinnamon and orange blossom. he loved wrapping himself in all kinds of delightful titillating scents.
he’s been traveling with geralt for a handful of months when he notices that the witcher hates the way he smells.
it’s never vocalized - despite his perceived gruffness, geralt doesn’t actually seem keen on hurting jaskier’s feelings - but jaskier picks up on it all the same. it’s the subtle way geralt’s nose wrinkles when jaskier emerges from one of his fragrant baths. it’s how he sits himself a little farther from jaskier when the bard dabs a generous amount of oil behind his ears and on his pulse points.
and jaskier would be offended, he would, except he’s gotten to know geralt fairly well over these months. he knows witchers have sharper, heightened senses. if geralt’s sense of smell is as delicate as jaskier believes it to be, he must smell overpowering, cloying to the witcher.
so -
well -
that just won’t do.
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