His suspicion-teasing had been toward her buying a book about a handsome but slutty viscount, but it's interesting to see her reaction. He scans the last few pages and gives the book back to her, not commenting on the ending in case she doesn't want spoilers. "They could get together but still go on adventures, it's not fair!"
He tilts his head at her. "I did notice that parties here are mostly hanging out at someone's house, unless it's something like a wedding. You come for money, are you telling me nobody has fancy parties anymore?"
“They could,” she agrees. “They probably come to some sort of compromise.” Because compromise is a huge part of relationships.
Midge gives him a look over the top of her sunglasses. “My family has money, but I’m not a Rockefeller. Parties held by people who are that rich are on a whole other level. That’s where stuff can get weird.”
Jaskier grabs a book from his satchel before he finally lies down on his chair, a happy little sigh leaving his lips. Swimming is great, but his muscles need to rest now.
"Oooh, yeah, the reeeeeeally tall building. It's amazing how talls building are in this world, but also kind of funny that you don't build towers anymore. You'd think they want to put the cops on top of them."
Oh, he can absolutely get that dense. He quickly learned in this world to keep it a bit lighter, but he refuses to let go of all of it. Flowery is nicer.
Midge's face makes him laugh, so he kisses the top of her head before showing her the full poem for context. "It's very metaphorical, so a few things are up to interpretation. It mentions 'modest worth' and 'rank'-" He points at those words on the page. "--so it appears that he's talking about the value of a powerful bond between people over differences in social standing. If it's mere friendship or it evolves into something sexual, well, dear - that's up to you."
The stanza makes more sense when she reads the whole poem in context. “He mentions friendship, but you’re right. He could be angling for something else. People, especially upper class people, had to be flowery back then. They couldn’t just ask if someone wanted to fuck them.”
Midge looks up at him with a teasing smile. “You made your intentions known pretty quickly.”
Oh, she has such a pretty teasing smile. He laughs at her comment.
"And you like it," he teases back. "Ah, but worry not. There have many a time back in my world where I had to be smooth as well. Especially with men - and in that case, that happens here too. That's why places like Rainbow Road are so important. We don't have to guess there."
“I do like it,” she confirms. “It was very flattering to be wanted like that.”
What he says about men who want to have sex with other men makes sense. Coming on to the wrong person could mean prison, or worse.
“I’m surprised that the police haven’t tried to shut it down yet. Not that I think it needs to be, of course, but anything that’s so open like that is a target for people who hate it.”
"Of course!" He tilts his head, clearly amused. "I may not be fucking you well enough if that's up for question." It's just teasing - he understands wanting reassurance. Hearing the words is nice.
He glances at her book and grins. "Want to read together? We could push the chairs against each other and cuddle." Cuddling in public can't be that bad, right?
Why the hell not? Her parents aren’t here yet. She gets up and helps push the two chairs together, then lays back down. She leans against him, snuggling in close as she picks up her book again.
It is, to say the least, the perfect afternoon. Which is funny to think about after their argument. Jaskier falls in love with Byron's flowery words and sometimes reads lines to Midge. Having her snuggled close is wonderful, and he basks in what is a simple yet powerful form of affection. He sometimes peeks into her novel, too, to read aloud any funny (or saucy!) lines. He doesn't stay the entire afternoon on the chair, though; every now and then, he returns to the sea for another swim. It makes coming back so much better because it means he can recharge his energy by feeling Midge's skin against his and smelling her perfume mixed with the smell of the ocean.
Eventually, she falls asleep on his shoulder, and while part of him thinks she's missing the fun, he doesn't have the heart to wake her up. At least, not until it's time to leave.
"Hey, dear," he says while gently shaking her shoulder. "It's getting late."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
She leans back in the chair. “A masquerade would be fun. Nobody really holds parties like that anymore unless they’re kind of… strange and cultish.”
no subject
He tilts his head at her. "I did notice that parties here are mostly hanging out at someone's house, unless it's something like a wedding. You come for money, are you telling me nobody has fancy parties anymore?"
no subject
Midge gives him a look over the top of her sunglasses. “My family has money, but I’m not a Rockefeller. Parties held by people who are that rich are on a whole other level. That’s where stuff can get weird.”
no subject
"That's disappointing. I'll see if I can take you to an elven party, then. Who is Rockefeller?"
no subject
“It’s a family,” she tells him. “The guy ran Standard Oil. His grandson’s the governor. And you’ve probably heard of Rockefeller Center?”
no subject
"Oooh, yeah, the reeeeeeally tall building. It's amazing how talls building are in this world, but also kind of funny that you don't build towers anymore. You'd think they want to put the cops on top of them."
no subject
Midge leans over towards him. “Whatcha reading?”
no subject
He shows her the cover of the Lord Byron book before reading aloud with his classically trained reciting voice:
"Our souls at least congenial meet,
Nor can thy lot my rank disgrace;
Our intercourse is not less sweet,
Since worth of rank supplies the place."
no subject
Her jokes aren’t hidden by such flowery language. Even Jaskier’s poetry isn’t as dense.
totally stealing the analysis from the website lol I'm not good with old English
Midge's face makes him laugh, so he kisses the top of her head before showing her the full poem for context. "It's very metaphorical, so a few things are up to interpretation. It mentions 'modest worth' and 'rank'-" He points at those words on the page. "--so it appears that he's talking about the value of a powerful bond between people over differences in social standing. If it's mere friendship or it evolves into something sexual, well, dear - that's up to you."
steal away
Midge looks up at him with a teasing smile. “You made your intentions known pretty quickly.”
no subject
"And you like it," he teases back. "Ah, but worry not. There have many a time back in my world where I had to be smooth as well. Especially with men - and in that case, that happens here too. That's why places like Rainbow Road are so important. We don't have to guess there."
no subject
What he says about men who want to have sex with other men makes sense. Coming on to the wrong person could mean prison, or worse.
“I’m surprised that the police haven’t tried to shut it down yet. Not that I think it needs to be, of course, but anything that’s so open like that is a target for people who hate it.”
no subject
The mention of the police makes him snort. "They're bribing the cops, Midge. The day the club doesn't pay, you can say goodbye to it."
no subject
Midge picks up her book again. “Do I make you feel exhilarated?” she asks.
no subject
He glances at her book and grins. "Want to read together? We could push the chairs against each other and cuddle." Cuddling in public can't be that bad, right?
no subject
“Alright.”
Why the hell not? Her parents aren’t here yet. She gets up and helps push the two chairs together, then lays back down. She leans against him, snuggling in close as she picks up her book again.
no subject
Eventually, she falls asleep on his shoulder, and while part of him thinks she's missing the fun, he doesn't have the heart to wake her up. At least, not until it's time to leave.
"Hey, dear," he says while gently shaking her shoulder. "It's getting late."