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Chapter Text

Kaz blinked awake to find himself on his knees, his bad leg throbbing painfully. His hands were wrenched above his head, straining his shoulders. Okay, he thought, narrowing his eyes to barely-open slits and staring at the floor. Never let your captors know you're awake. They might let something slip. The old advice came back to him, calming him like a familiar nursery rhyme. It sang to him: Okay, I've been here before. I've gotten out of this before. But that made him think of the last time he was on his knees, in front of Pekka Rollins. He brushed the image from his mind and focused again on his hands. Not tied together with rope, he noted. Something smooth and cold. Fabrikator metal. He could feel its weight and texture through his thin leather gloves.

Before he could notice anything else, he was struck across the face with a hard, stinging blow. His head whipped to the side, his vision going dark for a moment as a small noise escaped his lips. Instantly, he ground his teeth together, furious at himself for this small allowance.

"Where is she?" Someone asked coldly. Kaz blinked, disoriented. A hand roughly grabbed his hair, wrenching his head up. General Kirigan's face swam into view.

"Where. Is. She." The general's voice was cold as ice, shaking slightly with rage.

"I don't know," Kaz rasped. "I don't know."

The Darkling's expression bordered on murderous as his fist tightened in Kaz's hair, and for a moment Kaz wondered if he was planning to simply pull it out. Instead, he drove his boot into Kaz's groin. Hard. The force holding Kaz up by his wrists suddenly dropped and he collapsed in on himself like a paper cup, gasping like the breath had been knocked out of him. He curled in on himself, his leg shaking uncontrollably as his eyes rolled back in his head. Without giving him a chance to recover, the Darkling aimed another swift kick at his stomach, sending Kaz sprawling onto his back. Kaz's hands scrabbled across the floor. Don't stay on your back. Get up. Get the fuck up, he chanted like a mantra inside his head. The Darkling watched impassively as the boy tried to raise himself off the ground, his arms shaking like twigs and one leg dragging behind him like dead weight.

"I don't know, and if I did know where she is I wouldn't tell you," Kaz spat out with enough venom to put a rattlesnake to shame. His arms trembled at the effort of lifting himself off the ground, and he hated how skinny the thick metal cuffs made his wrists look. They weren't connected, but that wouldn't matter with a Fabrikator around; and Kaz could tell, they were so tightly molded to his wrists that they'd never come off on their own. Jesper, he thought automatically. If- no, when, I get out of this, Jesper can take care of it. If Jesper hasn't been captured. If Jesper's still alive. If Jesper would even ever admit to me that he's a-

The Darkling waved dismissively, and a Fabrikator sprung into action. The two silver manacles around Kaz's wrists snapped together. The sudden movement sent him crashing to the ground again, the floor cool against his bruised cheek. Kaz closed his eyes, breathing raggedly. Think. Where was Inej, Jesper? Had they gotten away or were they being held here too, just out of his reach?

"I had her right here." The Darkling's voice was as cold and sharp as iron. "Right in this room."

Kaz blearily blinked open his eyes again. He was in an ornate room, back in the Little Palace based on the decoration. A large wooden map table stood behind the Darkling, who was pacing back and forth with an unhinged fervor. Kaz didn't like unhinged. Unhinged was dangerous. He liked his marks calm and predictable.

"Everyone. Everyone out." The general's voice was low and dangerous. "No, not you. You two stay here."

In the corner of his vision, Kaz saw a small group of robed Grisha shuffle out of the room. A purple-robed Fabrikator remained as well as- Kaz's heart dropped like a stone- a Grisha Corporalki in a blood-red Kefta. Kaz didn't necessarily dislike the Corporalki- in fact, he would give an arm and his good leg to have one on his side. But the idea of someone reaching inside his body and changing it against his will made Kaz feel sick.

"Get him up," General Kirigan ordered, his eyes never once leaving Kaz's face. The Fabrikator swiftly moved his hands, and Kaz felt the manacles unrelentingly jerk his hands upwards. He flushed with anger and embarrassment as he was forced to struggle to his feet, his bad leg nearly buckling in the progress as the Fabricator pulled his arms higher, higher.

"I'll ask you this one more time, Mr. Brekker." The general leaned forward, drinking Kaz's pained gasps as the Fabricator held his body taut, forcing him to put weight on his bad leg in order to keep his arm from being pulled out of its socket.

"Where is Alina Starkov?" Suddenly, the Darkling's hand darted out and grasped Kaz's chin.

"I don't know." Kaz forced himself to keep his voice controlled. As the hand slipped from his chin to his neck, Kaz's voice grew more panicked. "I don't know!" He could barely move, he needed to get away, he needed to breathe-

"Tell him!" He yelled wildly at the Corporalki. "I don't fucking know where she is, I fucking swear! Tell him!"

The general turned slowly to the Corporalki, his hand still on Kaz's neck. Kaz wanted to throw up, or sob, or stare blankly at a wall until Inej started to worry. He grasped at that thought. Inej. He imagined her in a flash, her piercing gaze pinning him in place.

"You aren't just going to let him get the better of you, are you, Kaz?" His imaginary Inej smirked, raising her eyebrows in challenge. What he wouldn't give for her to swoop in and save him, like he relied on her to do time and time again. No, he thought sternly. Kaz Brekker doesn't need to be saved. Kaz Brekker doesn't need to be saved. Kaz Brekker doesn't need to-

"He's not lying, sir. And- um, he doesn't like that."

No. Stop it. Stop it. Everything came rushing back, the hand on his throat, the manacles on his wrists, the pain in his leg. "Get the FUCK out of my head!" Kaz screamed, twisting much as he could in his bonds. Never mind that she wasn't in his head. Much worse to think about the Corporalki listening to his heart.

"Interesting." General Kirigan observed Kaz like he was a particularly fascinating insect, pinned down for examination. "Doesn't like what, precisely?" He removed his hand from Kaz's throat, hesitating for a moment before carefully placing his hand on Kaz's cheek. It was a mocking sort of tenderness. Kaz instantly jerked away, as far as he could, until his head was buried in his shoulder. He breathed hard through his nose, focusing on the sharp pinch of the metal cuffs against his skin. Anything to distract him from the feeling of flesh pressing up against him."Oh," the general breathed, stroking Kaz's cheek gently with a look of sick fascination on his face."Stop it," Kaz blurted out, hating how much he sounded like a scared child.

"Oh, I don't think so. You took something of mine, Mr. Brekker. I intend on making you suffer for it." Without taking his eyes off Kaz's face, the Darkling waved away the two Grisha. Kaz felt his hands limply drop to his sides as he heard the door quietly close. Fight, he imagined Inej urging him. But it took all his strength not to collapse.

"She was right here," the general murmured, a crazed shine in his eyes. Kaz felt the general push him backward until he felt the edge of the desk hit his lower back. "Right here."

Kaz felt it but couldn't comprehend it as the general carefully unbuttoned his shirt, laying his palm flat against Kaz's chest right over his heart. Kaz bucked as if he had been electrocuted, his hands desperately grasping at the end of the desk behind him. He swore he heard the wood crack beneath his fingers. With his other hand, the Darkling grabbed his chin and forcefully tilted his head to the side, staring at his neck as if considering-

And then the knife entered General Kirigan's back.

When the Darkling screamed, it was as if the demons of the Fold all screamed with him. Darkness rolled off him in waves. Kaz crumbled to the ground, but he forced himself forward, his instincts screaming at him to get away, to get out as fast as possible.

"Kaz."

It was her. Even more brilliant than in his hazy visions, framed by a halo of light even as darkness enveloped the room.

"Santka Inej," Kaz gasped. If he couldn't walk, he'd crawl to her. I need to live, he thought fiercely. I need to live so I can tell her that someday.

"Come on, boss, we have to get moving." Jesper was kneeling by his side, a smoking gun in one hand and the other hovering over Kaz's shoulder as if asking for permission. Kaz blinked at him, looking so confused and scared and young that Jesper felt something break inside of him. Kaz was the ruthless one of the three, but in that moment Jesper wanted to break the bones of every single person in the Little Palace.

"Kaz." Jesper waited for Kaz to make eye contact with him. "We need to go."

Kaz's eyes focused on Jesper's hand, still hovering above his shoulder. He gave Jesper a short nod, shifting his arm upwards so that it met Jesper's hand. Jesper hauled him up, slinging Kaz's arm around his shoulder and half-dragging him out of the room. Inej backed out of the room after them, still slinging knives.
"We need to get out of here, there'll be Grisha swarming this place any minute," Jesper said frantically. Kaz fought to stay conscious, but felt himself becoming practically dead weight in Jesper's arms. Inej hoisted Kaz's other arm around her, and his head lolled onto her shoulder. Kaz felt himself fading in and out of consciousness as Inej and Jesper dragged him through the halls of the Little Palace. He caught snatches of their frantically whispered conversation:

"No, I think that way-"

"There's a stairway to the right-"

"I swear I'm going to murder him, what the fuck was he doing-"

"I'm sorry," Kaz mumbled automatically.

"Oh, saints, Kaz, he didn't mean you." Inej's voice was steeped with sadness. Kaz felt the cool night air hit his face, and seconds later he felt Jesper helping him into a carriage as Inej went to take the reigns.

"It's okay now, we've got you," Jesper murmured. The carriage began to move, jostling Kaz slightly.

"Jes," Kaz croaked. "Jes, I need them off."

He raised one of his arms limply. The metal band shone around his wrist. Jesper stared at him.

"I-"

"Please, Jesper." Kaz's breath came out in harsh bursts, clawing at his wrist with his other hand as if trying to find a seam in the metal to pry apart. "I need- I need them off."

"You know." Jesper stared at Kaz. "I'm an idiot. Of course you know. Of course you fucking know."

"Please," Kaz whispered again. He already knew that he was thinking clearly again, he would curse himself for showing his cards so soon. "I swear, no one else knows. Inej doesn't know."

"I don't know if I can." Jesper looked uncertainly at the seamless silver cuffs. He knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to make something as flawlessly formed. But maybe he could break them.

He could break them for Kaz.

Kaz offered him his wrists, and Jesper accepted, careful to wrap his hands only around the metal without touching skin to skin. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He imagined the metal in his mind's eye, searching the surface for minute flaws and weaknesses that he could exploit. In a flash, he remembered how he and Inej found Kaz- his shirt torn open and carelessly bunched up around his arms, one of his shoulders bare and his mouth open in a silent scream as the general pressed his hand into his flesh. Jesper felt rage, bone-breaking rage, rage that he had only ever attributed to Kaz Brekker, course through him- and the metal splintered beneath his palms. It fell away not in the smooth, molten motion he remembered from trained Fabrikators, but in shards.

Kaz yanked his wrists away before Jesper's hands could touch his skin.

"Thanks," he said shortly. Within another moment, he had passed out.

Chapter Text

They traveled north from the Little Palace, staying on unpaved paths used by farmers in order to avoid the main roads. They had left at night, and now the hazy grey light of dawn was just beginning to illuminate the fields surrounding them as far as the eye could see. The wheat rolled in the wind like the ocean, and Inej suddenly felt a pang of longing for her family. The Suli always remember their own, she thought. The gentle sway of the carriage reminded her of the carnival caravan, the hushed conversation between performers in the early hours of the morning. The soft comfort of being around people with the same steadfast belief in the saints, people who wouldn't attach meanings to her body because of her dark skin. She loved the Dregs fiercely- some of them, anyways- but even Kaz seemed to take for granted the comfort of looking like most of everyone else in Ketterdam. Sometimes Inej would catch Jesper's eye, and the two would share a silent moment of understanding at a thoughtless comment thrown their way. With a rush, she remembered the rush of emotion she felt when Jesper had locked eyes with her, telling her the sun summoner was half Shu. They had both looked at each other, uncertain what it meant to them. If it should mean something to them, a Suli girl and a Zemeni boy.

"He's Zemini, but don't hold it against him."

"I'd like to sleep with a Suli lynx someday."

It had been so long since Inej had felt the comfort of her own people. With a pang, she realized that the sun summoner must have grown up without even the comfort of having known her own people. Her own culture.

"Inej, I bet you can't balance on that fence post!" A young gap-toothed boy with bronze skin smiled widely at her.

"Can too!" Inej stuck her tongue out, her hands on her hips. Her tiny acrobat's uniform was painted with tiger's stripes.

"Stupid! Inej can balance on anything." An older girl, maybe around thirteen, with two long braids threaded with gold, rolled her eyes. "But can you do this?"

Quick as a flash, the girl pulled a knife from her boot and threw it at the post. It stuck right in the center of a knot in the wood.

"Teach me, teach me first!" Inej squealed in excitement.

Her reverie was interrupted as Jesper swung out of the carriage door and up next to her on the driver's perch in a single, fluid movement.

"How is he?" She immediately asked. Jesper shrugged, scuffing the toe of his boot against the carriage's wood. They sat together in silence, watching the wheat ripple and turn gold under the first rays of the sun.

"I hate this. I hate seeing him like this," Jesper finally said. Inej hummed slightly in agreement.

"It's- I mean- he's always so prepared, and in control, and I know he hates us seeing him like this and yeah, I know that sometimes I wish he was a little more vulnerable with us but-" Jesper's voice caught in his throat. He hastily wiped at his eyes and Inej pretended not to notice.

"I hate this because I know he hates looking weak in front of us, and I don't know how to tell him it's okay without him going all weird on us like he always does. And I want to tell him that he doesn't deserve any of this, no matter how much he thinks he deserves to be hurt, but if I do he's just going to look at me like I'm insane and tell me to fuck off." Jesper felt himself rambling.

"I know," Inej said quietly. "He's Kaz."

Jesper's head was turned to the side, so that Inej couldn't see his face. It wasn't just Kaz who hated showing his emotions. Jesper just covered it up with laughter instead of scowls. She remembered the first time she Jesper angry, really and truly angry. She heard raised voices coming from Kaz's office just before she reached his window, bringing news of a diamond shipment in second harbor. She paused, clinging to a thin ledge just out of sight. The wood was slick with rain, and Inej dug her fingernails into its softened surface. The voices were too low to make out the words, but she could hear that it was Jesper and Kaz in a heated argument. Something suddenly fell to the floor with a thud.

"You know, I have to live with the things you tell me about myself forever, Kaz," Jesper yelled, cutting through the pane of the glass and the patter of rain. The door slammed shut. When Inej silently slipped through the window a few moments later, Kaz was staring at a smashed vase on the ground with a shell-shocked look in his eyes.

"I've never seen you sad before," Inej remembered remarking to the sharpshooter later that night. Jesper's lips twisted into a wry smile.

"I'm always sad, 'Nej."

"Me too."

The two became a lot closer after that night. Kaz's gun and his wraith.

-

In Kaz's dream, he was being choked by Menagerie silks. He gasped and clawed at his neck as a sheer pink scarf tightened around it. He fell to his knees and immediately he felt swathes of cloth binding his legs, tugging at his arms. The smooth slide of silk against his skin made his stomach turn, and suddenly it wasn't cloth tangling around his body at all but wet, bloated flesh. Kaz retched, struggling to escape the piled bodies, and suddenly a hand was stroking his face, over and over, harder and harder until he felt his skin rubbing raw. He was on his knees in front of Pekka Rollins, he was pressed up against the table in the Little Palace.

"Kaz." He heard her voice as if he was underwater.

"Kaz." Louder this time, dragging him out from the bodies, the Little Palace, the silks that slid off his flesh like water. A warm light shone above him, swaying just out of reach like he really was underwater. He kicked his legs and swam upwards, past the bodies and the silks that sunk around him. His head broke the surface and the light bloomed, filling every inch of his vision. Kaz lifted a hand to shade his eyes and squinted upwards as a figure emerged from the center of the light.

"Santka..." Hovering above him was Inej, phantasmal and resplendent, her hands outstretched from her sides with a knife balanced in each palm.

"Kaz!" Something hit his shoulder, hard.

He woke with a start, automatically scrambling up and raising his arm defensively in front of his face. He looked like a caged animal, terrified and feral.

"Kaz, it's me," Inej said soothingly. Kaz's breathing calmed slightly and he dropped his arms.

"Wraith," he replied with a curt nod.

"We need to get out of this carriage. We're being followed."

Kaz nodded again, distractedly pushing a gloved hand through his hair. Inej opened the carriage door and hopped out with an acrobat's grace, then waited patiently as Kaz clambered out. He had to fist his hand in his pants and half-drag his bad leg through the muddy ground. Inej made a movement to help him, and he glared daggers at her. She caught herself and stopped.

"Come on, we need to get off the road," Jesper said, nervously twirling his guns. "In here."

Kaz limped to the edge of the wheat field lining the road, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg. He sorely missed his crow-headed cane. To his side, Inej slipped into the wheat like a ghost. Kaz swore the grasses bent around her in the wind, without the wraith rustling a single stem. He gritted his teeth and forced way through the field, the wheat scratching at his chin. He had stolen a DeKappel that showed peasants laboring in fields like this. The unique Ravkan strain of wheat grew taller than Kaz, nearly as tall as Jesper. He had heard Kerch merchants waxing poetic about the Ravkan fields, the way they glowed golden in the sunlight. In person, he thought wryly, it was just grass.

"Down," hissed Jesper, and the three crows instantly dropped to their stomachs. Kaz felt a flash of pain as his leg hit the ground and rolled onto his back, a small whine escaping his mouth. He clenched his jaw and dug his fingers into his thigh. As he took deep, shuddering breaths, Kaz heard the light, galloping rhythm of horses and the creak of carriage wheels. Just a short distance from where Kaz, Inej, and Jesper lay in the wheat, the carriage stopped. Kaz held his breath has he heard the carriage door open.

"David, check that carriage." Kaz's blood froze in his veins at the sound of General Kirigan's cold, hard voice. His hand involuntarily moved to his chest, clenching the fabric of his shirt directly over his heart. He swore he could still feel the general's palm against his chest, his hand on Kaz's cheek. He would find them, Kaz thought as panic raced through his spine. He would find them and he would tear Kaz apart in front of Jesper and Inej. He felt hot with shame at the prospect. Better to be dead, he thought, than for Jesper and Inej to see him helpless like that again.

"She's not here," a thin and reedy voice piped up. David held the remains of Kaz's manacles in his hands for the Darkling to see. "These the same metal as Miss Starkov's ring. That was what I was sensing."

The Darkling was completely silent, but the air itself seemed to vibrate with his anger. Kaz held his breath. So it wasn't him they were looking for. He cursed himself for being so foolish. Of course it wasn't. What was he to the Darkling? Just another barrel rat. Nothing.

"Get back in the carriage, David," the Darkling said icily. The Fabrikator stuttered his apologies, backing away quickly. Next to Kaz, Inej's lips moved in a silent prayer. Jesper still had a hand resting on one of his guns, every muscle tense and alert.

"I know you can hear me, Kaz Brekker," the Darkling said ominously, his voice carrying across the field. The three crows simultaneously drew in a sharp breath. Inej's eyes darted to Kaz's pale, expressionless face. It was as if all the blood had left him.

"If I ever have the displeasure to see your face again, I will skin you alive and leave you for the crows to peck out your eyes." As the Darkling spoke, waves of darkness pulsed over the field, pressing low against their bodies. Kaz stifled a whimper as he felt the darkness undulate over him, like a body pressed against him and forcing him to the ground. With a pang of guilt, Kaz heard Inej's breath speed up alongside his.

And then, with a deafening crack like thunder, it was over. Kaz, Inej, and Jesper lay frozen as they heard the Darkling's carriage pull away. They waited for far longer than necessary before daring to drag themselves out of the wheat.

"Shit," breathed Jesper, staring at their carriage.

Or what used to be their carriage.

Their transportation lay in ruins, cleaved down the middle as if struck by a knife

Chapter Text

Kaz had heard of the Cut, but like most Grisha-related nonsense, he had assumed it was a myth. He stared at the cleaved halves of the carriage. Definitely not a myth.

"Ugh, thank the saints he didn't hit the horse. Can you imagine?" Jesper pulled a face, trying to lighten the tension. Inej shuddered. Kaz limped up to the side of the ruined carriage, yanking a thin, splintered piece of the door off in his gloved hand. Without a word, he flicked out a small silver knife and carved out a smooth handle in a few sharp strokes. A makeshift cane.

"Right." Kaz turned to face them, his face closed in his usual scowl. Jesper and Inej both straightened up automatically, as if standing to attention. All traces of the fear and panic that had wracked his body the previous night were gone, and Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.

"No transportation and stuck in the middle of nowhere. Jesper, do you know what we do now?" Kaz raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Find an idiot and rob them blind," Jesper replied with a confident grin.

"Exactly."

Inej rolled her eyes, but the Barrel had rubbed off on her. She couldn't help the thrill that ran through her at the prospect of a job. A sense of relief washed over her, too, at having Kaz back. Reliable, unshakeable Kaz, who always knew what to do and how to keep his Crows safe. Except now she knew that wasn't true. Maybe she'd let herself get too caught up in the legend that Kaz had wrapped around himself, let herself think that it was real.

-

She had been scaling the roof, still in the aftershocks of murdering the Inferni who had chased her seeking vengeance for her brother, when she heard the scream ring out. Inej knew Kaz by heart, his every movement and breath. The sound of his lopsided gait as he scaled the steps of the Slat. The sharpness of his voice as he planned out an airtight heist. Even his laugh, a sound Inej reckoned that few people had ever heard. But she had never heard him scream. She knew it was him because her heart tore as she heard it, clear and high and piercing like a musical note shattering the air. She had flown through the air over the rooftops like the wraith she was, blood flowing freely from her wounds. She arrived too late.

Kaz lay on the ground, surrounded by a puddle of dark red blood. A cut- the Cut, Inej realized with a start, slashed across his chest from his hip to his collarbone. His body jerked and twisted, and even from the roof Inej could see tears of pain running down his cheeks. The Darkling stood in front of his body, staring down at him disdainfully.

"You should of stayed in Ketterdam," the Darkling said spitefully. Kaz let out a choked noise- half a laugh, half a sob.

"You, Corporalki- take care of him. I need him alive, for now."

A red-robes grisha rushed out from beside the general, kneeling and putting a hand on Kaz's chest. Quick as a viper, Kaz's hand darted around the healer's wrist with crushing force.

"Don't touch me," he gasped. Inej wanted to scream. Just let him heal you, you stubborn fool. If she moved against the Darkling now, the healer would move to defend his leader and Kaz would die. The healer wrenched his wrist from Kaz's grasp and made a few quick hand motions, and Inej watched as Kaz's eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.

She cursed herself for letting them take Kaz away and for everything they did to him before she and Jesper snuck their way into the Little Palace. But she knew if she acted before, Kaz would be dead. Maybe all of them would be dead.

As Kaz jerkily walked alongside Inej and Jesper, away from the ruined carriage, she caught him pressing a hand to his chest where she knew a long scar must now run from hip to collar. Just another scar on the tapestry of his body.

-

Unlike Inej, Jesper was familiar with Kaz's screams. Kaz's screams and his screams were old friends. And no, he didn't mean that in a suggestive, innuendo-laced way (Saints, he wish he did). A job had went wrong during Jesper's early days in the Dregs, which ended with Jesper and Kaz strung up by their wrists in some merch's basement.

"What were you trying to steal, hmm? My DeKappel? My share certificates in the Jurda fields?" The merch opened up a furnace, shifting the coals around with a heavy black poker.

Jesper snorted. "Gee, you really are stupid as you are tall."

"Shut up, Jesper," Kaz snapped. Jesper blinked in surprise.

"That's right, tell your little friend to keep his trap shut."

"But really, you are as stupid as you are tall," Kaz smirked. The merch lunged and stuck the burning hot poker against Kaz's bare forearm, and he screamed.

"No!" Jesper yelled, straining against his bonds.

The merch shoved the poker back in the fire, watching with twisted glee as Kaz gasped for breath.

"Watch your mouth, Brekker. Got it?"

"Your mother didn't watch her mouth last night when she-"

Kaz's sentence finished in another scream as the merch grabbed the poker from the fire, this time pressing it against the sensitive skin of his thigh. Kaz twisted in his bonds, his screams turning to uncontrolled sobs. Jesper yelled every insult he could think of at the merch, his nose filling with the smell of burnt cloth and seared skin. When the merch finally removed the poker, Kaz's head dropped limply as if he was completely sapped of all energy.

"FUCK YOU!" Jesper screamed over and over again, his hands pushing helplessly against the rough rope binding him. The merch suddenly brandished the poker at Jesper, and Kaz's head snapped up.

"Hey, idiot," Kaz said desperately. "I didn't finish telling you what I did to your mother last night. Or was it your wife?" For all his bravado, Kaz's voice was wracked with tremors. The merch turned to him with a wicked glint in his eye.

"Oh, I see your game, Brekker," the merch said with unobscured delight. "Beg me."

"Excuse me?" Spat Kaz.

"Beg me. Beg me to press this poker to your pretty cheek, or I'll do it to him instead."

Jesper's mouth dropped open.

"That's ridiculous," Kaz sneered. The merch moved towards Jesper, who clenched his eyes shut and braced himself. He felt the heat of the metal poker inches from his face.

"Wait!" Kaz yelled sharply. The merch turned with exaggerated slowness.

"I'm waiting."

Kaz swallowed. "Please."

Jesper's heart dropped like a stone. "Kaz, don't. It's not- I'm not worth it."

Kaz stared forward fiercely.

"Please, what?" The merch mocked.

"Please- please burn my face."

"Stop it, Kaz." Jesper was crying. "This isn't funny."

"Tell me how much you want it," crooned the merch. Kaz's hands clenched into fists.

"I said please."

"And I told you to beg."

Kaz let out a hysterical laugh. "Please, I want it so bad," he said, trying to mock the fake entreaties of the girls in West Stave. Out of his mouth, it just sounded pathetic.

"Good." Without warning, the merch jabbed the red-hot tip of the poker into the skin behind Kaz's ear. Kaz's vision went completely white. He heard himself screaming and sobbing and begging in the far distance.

"Say thank you, I want another."

Kaz blinked, incoherent and uncontrollably shaking like a leaf.

"Kaz, STOP IT! Just let me take it, I can take it!" Jesper yelled, twisting madly in his bonds. Kaz forced his eyes to focus, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

"You heard your friend. He can take it." The merch looked expectantly at Kaz. Kaz gave him a look of pure loathing.

"Thank you, I want another," he spat out.

Instantly, he felt the white hot burning on his thigh again and his eyes rolled back in his head. Kaz was forced to endure the burn of the hot metal to his thighs, and thank the merch for it, five more times before an explosion rocked the house and the Dregs came to finish the job. Anika stuffed the hot poker down the merch's throat and then quickly hacked through Jesper and Kaz's bonds with a small knife. Kaz instantly collapsed to the ground.

"Go," he gasped at Anika. "I'm fine. Finish the job as planned."

Anika nodded quickly, leaping up the basement stairs three at a time.

"As planned?" Jesper echoed.

"We were playing distraction. He thinks he's already caught us, that means his head is turned from the real job. Had to have you think it was real," groaned Kaz, his face twisted in pain.

"Real?" Jesper stared at him. "Fucking real, Kaz? Is this not real enough for you?"

"He wasn't supposed to be that creative."

Kaz was flickering in and out of consciousness. "Couldn't let you get hurt," he muttered, before blacking out entirely.

-

As Jesper followed Kaz along the Ravkan country road, he saw the puckered scar of burnt flesh behind Kaz's ear. He felt a surge of protectiveness for him, the boy that had refused to let him take the hit. Fucking masochist, Jesper thought furiously. Jesper would follow him to the ends of the earth.

Chapter Text

They had been walking all day before the endless fields yielded the sight of a small, white farmhouse. Inej could see the flinch from the past written across Kaz and Jesper's faces as they waded through a jurda field, their features blazing gold in the setting rays of the sun. Both flinching from the farmboys they once were, the boys they had destroyed amongst cards and bullets, knives and blood.

Jesper remembered the shift from an easy target- a fresh face, who could be robbed blind at the card tables by his own free will- to a seasoned Barrel hand. Bit by bit, from chasing Makker's wheel to chasing Kaz. In a way, Kaz had become his new addiction after he first met him. Jesper would have given anything to make Kaz laugh, to even gain a grudging smile. He remembered his jealous anger when Kaz had first led Inej back to the Slat, a grin ghosting his on his lips. It took a while for him to warm up to Inej, and it was still painful to see Kaz look at her with a tenderness that he would never waste on Jesper. The look he saw Kaz give her now, as she crouched to pick a Jurda blossom and tuck it into her braid.

Kaz's gaze hardened as he looked up to the farmhouse in front of them.

"Maybe no one's home," Inej said hopefully. Jesper knew that she wasn't thrilled at what they planned to do. Kaz cracked his neck, stalking up to the porch and loudly rapping on the front door. Jesper watched as Kaz shifted his posture, somehow losing the affectations of a seasoned criminal. They had all shed their heavy coats and wore only their simple cotton shirts, playing at stranded peasants. If he wasn't busy being the Bastard of the Barrel, Jesper thought that Kaz had quite a shot at an acting career in the Komedie Brute. Kaz suddenly looked boyish and vulnerable, his shoulders rounded and his head ducked. It didn't suit him. The door cracked open slowly, and two owlish pairs of eyes blinked up at the three crows. Kaz smiled at them.

"Why hello there, who are you two?" Kaz said, rounding his syllables into a Ravkan peasant accent. The door widened a bit and they could see two tiny girls, each with dark hair, wide eyes, and sun-browned skin. They smiled shyly at Kaz.

"Shei zai naer? Called a woman from inside.

"Travelers, ma!" The younger one yelled back.

"I'm Alina, an' this is Luan," the girl continued. Her hair was short and choppy, and her smile revealed several missing teeth. Inej raised an eyebrow at the little girl's name. She remembered that it was one of the popular Ravkan names adopted by migrant Shu families for their children. She wondered if Alina Starkov knew this.

The woman who came to the door, scooping up Alina and balancing the girl on her hip, was shockingly young- probably only a few years older than Kaz. She wore a stained apron and carried a dirty wooden spoon in one hand. Her hair was dark, like the two girls, and her eyes were muddy gold. Luan grabbed at the faded skirts of her modest green Shu dress. Her hair was messy, half up in a bun and half falling across her face, and despite her youth she had worry lines across her forehead. She smiled tiredly at the three crows, yet with a sense of genuine welcome. Inej suddenly felt a fierce protectiveness for the small family.

"Apologies, ma'am, our carriage broke down a ways down the road." Kaz was the picture of humbleness. "Please, if you could spare a place in your home where I could rest my leg-"

The young woman's eyes shifted from Kaz's face to Inej.

"You are Suli?" She said with a delicate accent. Inej nodded, and the woman- girl, really- nodded back.

"Suli are always welcome here." She smiled at Inej, and then Jesper. "Tongzhi."

Inej put her hand to her heart. "Tongzhi." 

The word had first come from Shu migrants, but became well known amongst the Suli as well and taken on a new significance in Ravka. Shu migrants and the Suli had a long shared history, a history of collaboration and mutual support in a country that at best ignored and at worst tried to stamp out their existence. It was well known that Suli on the road could always find hospitality in Ravkan Shu homes, and Shu in Suli caravans. Tongzhi. Comrade.

"The saints give plenty at my table." Slipping into their shared phrases, the young woman gave the formal Suli host invocation. "Please, join us for supper. I can offer you beds for the night so that you may rest for your journey."

"May the saints bless you for your kindness," murmured Inej. Kaz shot a warning look at her. Inej raised her chin, refusing to break eye contact. Jesper's eyes darted between the two as they had a quick, furious silent argument- and finally Kaz dipped his head in acquiesce. They would stay her for the night, and find another pigeon to rob. Inej stepped past him into the house.

The young woman didn't give her name, nor ask them theirs. She simply gave them a dented metal tureen of soup, three wooden bowls, and a heaping pile of rough woolen blankets and pointed them in the direction of the barn. Inej lingered behind as Kaz and Jesper headed to the barn. She clasped the woman's hand in her own.

"Thank you, Jiejie." Older sister. Another term of affection that flowed freely between the Shu migrants and the Suli. Inej freed one of her knives from her belt, presenting it to the young woman handle first. Sankta Neyar, named after the patron saint of Blacksmiths who saved her people from a batallion of clockwork soldiers. A warrior saint.

"This blade has granted me protection in my travels. I hope it will do the same for you." Luan and Alina watched with wide eyes as their mother accepted the blade, turning it in the light with an experienced, calloused hand. Her eyes softened.

"Here." From the folds of her dress, the woman produced a bronze tin. "For your friend's leg."

Inej opened it and sniffed the red, waxy ointment inside, her eyes lighting up. Tiger balm- her parents had traded with Shu migrants for it during her days as an acrobat. It could sooth any sore muscle. Struck with sudden memories of her father working the balm into her sore arms, Inej blinked rapidly.

"Thank you. Truly."

The young woman nodded. "It is but an echo of the kindness once offered to me. I pay that from your people back to you."

-

Kaz hissed in pain as he carefully brought his leg to the ground, his back resting against a bale of hay. He still wasn't fully recovered from the Little Palace, and walking the uneven dirt road all day hadn't made him feel any better. He hated feeling Inej and Jesper's worried eyes on his back. He hated even more having to rely on some stranger's hospitality, instead of stealing their horses and all their money for good measure. But the look Inej gave him  had put a stop to those thoughts. He thought she'd slit his throat herself if he so much stole a spoon from their host's cupboard. 

At least when she looked at him then, there was a measure of threat in her eyes rather than pity.

Inej appeared silently at the barn door and tossed a small container to Kaz. His hand snapped up to catch it reflexively, and he arched an eyebrow at Inej.

"For your leg," she explained.

"More gifts? Well, we definitely can't rob them now," Jesper snorted. Kaz just rolled up his pant leg, gritting his teeth as the motion sent spikes of pain through his body.

"I'll be on the roof. It's... I haven't been in Ravka since my family," Inej said distantly.

"Wait!" Jesper hastily poured her a bowl of soup. "Make sure to eat up there. I know you can make the climb without spilling a single drop, you saintsforsaken miracle of human nature."

No one could make Inej smile like Jesper. As she left, Jesper was distracted by a small noise of discomfort from Kaz. He was awkwardly trying to shift his leg towards him, but his knee was proving stubbornly painful to bend.

"Kaz, stop that." Jesper plucked the tin of red ointment from Kaz's hands. "Let me. I mean- if that's okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be okay? It's fine." Kaz snapped a little too quickly.

Jesper sighed exasperatedly. "You know why."

"I said it's fine," Kaz repeated, glaring at him.

"Okay!" Jesper threw his hands up in frustration. He scooted closer to Kaz and scooped out a generous coating of the red balm with two fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kaz bracing himself as if Jesper was about to chop off his leg.

"You sure?" Jesper checked again, his hand hovering above Kaz's leg. He fully expected the loathsome scowl that Kaz promptly gave him.

"Of course I'm fucking sure."

Jesper gently massaged the balm into Kaz's leg, trying to ignore the intimacy of the act as much as he tried to ignore how miserable Kaz looked.

When Jesper first joined the Dregs, he held out hope that Kaz might like him back. After all, he tolerated Jesper more than most. Jesper swore his incessant flirting even flustered Kaz at times- well, Kaz's extremely buttoned up and repressed version of flustered. One night after a particularly successful raid on Dime Lion's territory, Kaz and Jesper found themselves squeezed in the corner of the Crow Club flushed with whiskey and high spirits. Kaz's head was thrown back as he laughed at something Jesper said, and a cheer went up around the bar as a fiddler began to play a rousing jig. Their eyes caught, and Jesper felt his heartbeat quicken. Kaz's pale skin was dusted with pink, his breath slow. Jesper absentmindedly tucked a strand of Kaz's hair behind his ear, and Kaz simply stood there and let him. They were both being daring now, standing on the precipice of something. Jesper leaned forward, his lips parted.

And then, as if in a perfectly coordinated dance, Kaz leaned back. Turned his head and broke eye contact. Jesper felt a surge of disappointment and then embarrassment, like ice water trickling down his back. Stupid.

"That actually helps." Kaz's surprised voice interrupted Jesper's memories. He shifted in embarrassment as Jesper looked up, quickly muttering, "Feels good."

The balm felt cool on his skin, distracting from the feeling of Jesper's hands. It seemed to leech the soreness out of his muscles, and Kaz practically shoved his fist in his mouth to keep himself from moaning out loud. Jesper's hand skimmed Kaz's thigh where they both knew five puckered scars were still branded into his flesh, and Kaz found himself wanting to lean into the touch instead of pull away.

He pulled away.

"Good night, Jesper."

"Night, Kaz."

Chapter Text

Kaz awoke, blinking blearily at the morning light filtering through the cracks in the barn roof, to the sound of distant laughter. 

“Jes, when I move here you have to do this !” Inej’s voice was bright with amusement.

“I don’t see why I have to learn hand-to-hand combat, I have guns ,” Jesper shot back good-naturedly. 

Kaz stretched and got up, opening the barn door just in time to see Inej skillfully grapple Jesper and throw him to the ground. Jesper landed on his back with an oof in the dust. Grinning, she offered him her hand. 

“Do you see how to do it now? You shift your weight and use your shoulder to-”

“Hiya, Kaz!” Jesper waved, jumping to his feet. Inej turned too, her eyes sparkling. Kaz nodded at them. Something inside him ached to see them so carefree in the middle of this peaceful countryside. In another life, he thought. In another life.

“Are you ever going to let me show you how to fight properly, Kaz? Or still practicing the noble art of bashing people over the head?” Inej teased. Kaz fought dirty and rough, with no mercy and even less finesse. His mouth quirked upwards.

“Why would I need to learn to fight properly when I have you, my darling Inej?” The endearment slipped out sarcastically and yet he still blushed.

“And your darling, darling Jesper.” Jesper winked. Those two were going to be the death of him, Kaz thought. 

Inej dusted herself off. “There’s a stream not far from here, according to our host. I think we could all use a wash. A turnip cart comes by this time of the week at noon, and we can catch a ride into town. Regroup and find a new way to West Ravka from there.”

Kaz gave another short nod, feeling a slight twinge of discomfort that Inej and Jesper had figured out a plan without him. He didn’t like this feeling, of not being in control. It was like his foot had missed a step and he was now falling forward into nothing. He searched her face for lingering signs of pity, of an admission of his weakness. But he found nothing. 

“Lead the way,” he gestured. 

The day was warm, only a few wisps of cloud floating lazily across the sky. Beyond the Jurda fields, the grass grew long and green, and birds chased each other, chittering noisily, from tree to tree. Kaz was used to the close, dank press of buildings, the clack of cobblestones and the coarse calls of street vendors. The open fields were for all of them a return to the past, to a peace they no longer felt entitled to. Kaz remembered when he belonged only to the land and the sky, not the alleyways and the flash of Kruge. But that was a long time ago.

When they reached the stream, all three of them stripped unselfconsciously to their underclothes. Kaz felt awkward and pasty next to Inej and Jesper, their bodies strong, lithe, and glowing in the sunlight. He picked at his gloves uncertainly before drawing them off, carefully placing them with the rest of his folded clothes on a flat rock. Jesper dove into the rippling stream with the ease of a river otter, sighing with contentment as the water washed away the grime of their journey. For a moment, Jesper’s eyes flickered across Kaz’s body and a look of pain crossed his eyes. Kaz self-consciously drew his knees to his chest, hiding the purple bruises and dried blood that still blossomed across his body. The scar that ripped across his chest from his hip to his collar, fresh and pink over the faded white slashes of older wounds. Inej sat on the edge of a rock with her legs dangling in the stream, untangling her long hair with the aid of handfuls of water. Kaz felt content to just watch them quietly, letting their teasing conversation wash over him like birdsong. 

“Kaz, I’m not going anywhere with you smelling like a horse,” Jesper snorted. He flicked some water at Kaz, earning an annoyed glare. Still, Kaz slowly edged towards the bank of the stream. He didn’t like the idea of submerging himself in the stream, but he cupped a handful of water and scrubbed it over his arm. He stared at the smears of dirt and blood, scrubbing harder and more frantically as they refused to wash away. 

“Kaz. Stop that.” Inej poked him with the end of a river reed, jolting him out of his panic. Kaz immediately dropped his hands to his sides, looking away with embarrassment. Inej grabbed her cotton shirt, submerging it in the stream.

“Let me?” She lifted up the sopping cloth in her hand, gesturing towards his arm. He nodded numbly. Inej gently ran the cloth along his arm, careful not to touch his skin with her hand. A shuddering breath left Kaz’s lungs, his eyes closing and his posture going limp. The cloth was cool and soothing against his skin, and Kaz sighed as Inej moved from his arm to his shoulder, his back. He heard Jesper get out of the water, but it sounded muffled and distant until Jesper whispered directly in his ear.

“Is it okay if I wash your hair?” 

Kaz dipped his head in assent, scared that just speaking would break the spell that all three of them were under. And he didn’t want this to go away. He never wanted this to end, the feeling of Inej’s hands almost-on his body and Jesper pouring their canteen of water through his hair. It was almost overwhelming, but not in the usual way he felt overwhelmed by bodies and water and the memories they carried. A gentle sound escaped his mouth as Jesper worked a hand through his hair, pulling gently through the tangles. It felt nice. How had he forgotten that people touching him could feel nice. Still separating her skin from his with the cloth, Inej eased his knees from his chest and slowly he unfolded for her, letting her clean the blood and dirt from his chest. They both tensed as she skimmed over the bruises on his ribs, the raw red circles around his wrists. All three of them were spellbound, as if one wrong move could break them apart again. 

Then Inej dragged the cloth in slow circles along Kaz’s thighs, and he felt himself growing warm. He squirmed slightly, his hips moving on their own accord before he realized- 

“Stop it,” he snapped, quickly drawing his legs back up to his chest. His heart pounded, his ears and cheeks burning. His eyes were still screwed shut.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Inej murmured, drawing back. Kaz scoffed. He refused to open his eyes. He didn't want to see the looks they gave him. He felt stupid, stupid and young and inexperienced- like everything he had shed when he crawled out of the harbor and was reborn a bastard of the barrel. Everything fell away and for a moment he was just a boy who had never been kissed, never been touched.

Stupid.

Chapter Text

“Stop it,” Kaz snapped, suddenly pulling his knees to his chest and wrenching his hair from Jesper’s grasp. Jesper scrambled back from Kaz immediately, his heart pounding.

Of course Kaz didn’t want him.

Jesper didn’t know how many times he had to learn the same lesson. He balled up fists in anger at Kaz, at himself.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Inej murmured, and Jesper paused. Saints.

“Are you-” Jesper really didn’t know when to stop. Something about Kaz always made Jesper want to push him until he pushed back. “Are you hard right now?”

Kaz whirled around with a frustrated yell, his eyes unfocused and feral. He swung an uncontrolled punch at Jesper’s face, glancing off of the Sharpshooter’s jaw.

“Oh, come on, Kaz-” Jesper barely had time to roll his eyes before Kaz tackled him into the dirt. Inej groaned, pinching her brow in exasperation.

“It’s- fine- you- idiot!” Jesper yelled, flipping Kaz onto his back and pinning him there with Jesper’s knee on his chest.

"Stop, both of you," Inej ordered. Kaz immediately squirmed away from Jesper, glaring at him and hugging his legs to his chest.

"Kaz," Inej said gently. "What do you want?"

Kaz audibly swallowed. "I- I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You always know what you want," Jesper snapped. He was tired of this, of Kaz giving him inches when Jesper gave him miles. "So why won't you let us give you it?"

Kaz's head jerked up, his eyes fierce and mouth set. "And how do you think you'll be able to have me? Fully clothed, gloves on, my head turned away so our lips can never touch?”

"Oh, Kaz Brekker, your mind would boggle at the things I could do to you with your clothes on," Jesper retorted.

Inej snorted. "Kaz, for a criminal mastermind, you're not very creative."

"I-" Kaz was at a loss for words. "What do you mean?" He demanded.

"Oh, come on Kaz, let's get to town."

"But what do you mean?"

-

Kaz didn't bring it up again until he and Inej were alone. They had managed to hitch a ride to the nearby town, a tiny peasant settlement with a single, dingy inn. Jesper's eyes instantly lit up at the sight of a cards game in the corner, and was squeezing in between two disgruntled gamblers before Kaz could even say the words "leave it." He settled for clenching his jaw in frustration and then heading purposefully to the inn's desk with Inej in tow.

"A room, please," he said curtly to the girl at the desk. She was filing her nails with a bit of metal and barely looked up, chewing loudly on an orange wad of jurda.

"You payin' in coin or kruge?" She said in a nasally voice. Inej couldn't help but be impressed that the girl picked up on Kaz's Kerch accent so quickly. She noted that the girl's own accent was more reminiscent of the sharp, metropolitan tones of Western Ravka's port cities than the rounded syllables of the country. Given her cross disposition, Inej supposed she was not all too happy to have found herself working at a remote backwater inn across the Fold.

Kaz slapped a handful of Ravkan coins on the counter. The girl eyed it disdainfully.

"That'll be enough for one room for the night, then. If you see a rat just yell and it'll scamper off." She spat out her wad of jurda into a beaten tin mug, and fished a rusty key out of a drawer.

"Upstairs on your left, room four'll be free."

"Thank you," Inej added. The girl's frown- a permanent fixture on her pinched face, it seemed- deepened.

"Mind that she doesn't steal anything," the girl raised her chin at Kaz, ignoring Inej. "Don't tell me she's brought a whole caravan with her."

Kaz stepped forward, his mouth open in anger. But Inej was quicker.

"I'll knock your jurda-stained teeth out if you speak about me like that again," she spat. The girl cowered, her eyes shifting guiltily to the floor.

"Come on, Kaz," Inej said imperiously, flicking her braid over her shoulder. She stomped up the stairs angrily. It took a moment for Kaz to catch up with her, bracing his bad leg with his hand and panting slightly. He quickly unlocked the door and stumbled into an overstuffed, faded armchair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"For what?" Inej said sharply, clenching and unclenching her hands repeatedly. "I supposed she's more right than she knows. I am a thief. Thief and murderer."

"That makes two of us." Kaz looked slightly embarrassed, like he didn't quite know what to say. He got up abruptly.

"Wait here." He limped out of the room decisively.

Inej flopped down on the bed, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. She supposed that at least later Jesper and her would laugh and roll their eyes at the rude girl, after the cold shock of it all had finished coursing through her veins.

Just a few minutes later, and Kaz was back and emptying an endless quarry of trinkets out of his coat pockets.

"Was pretty easy to find that terrible girl's quarters- these locks are a joke, you could probably just kick the door hard enough and it would open- found these in her dresser, thought it'd look nicer on you-" he rambled on, tossing more and more items on the bed. A silver ring with a green stone. A pretty little letter opener with a burnished bronze handle. A long, thin piece of dark red silk. A pearl-tipped hairpin. A pair of soft, supple tan gloves. Most unusually, a riding crop of polished brown leather. Shiny, beautiful things. Irresistible things.

Inej slowly sat up. "Saints, Kaz, you really are a crow. All of this for me?"

"For you," he said breathlessly.

"She really is going to think I'm a thief now."

"Let her," Kaz scowled. "Grabbed this from the umbrella stand on the way back, too."

He shook his coat aside to reveal a polished black cane replacing the splinter of wood he had been leaning upon for the past few days. Upon closer inspection, the cane was nicked and worn with age, but in Kaz's hands it looked dangerous and sleek.

Inej sifted through his stolen hoard. She slipped the ring onto her finger, admiring how it glinted in the light. She slipped the letter opener into the folds of her boot. Stuck the hairpin in her braid. She held up the riding crop, raising an eyebrow.

"It was there," Kaz said with a half-shrug, but Inej didn't miss the hint of pink that rose to his cheeks.

"Have you been thinking about what we said earlier? Thinking creatively?"

Kaz swallowed. "Yes."

Inej slipped on the gloves, turning her hands in the light to admire them like she had the ring. She could feel Kaz's eyes on her, watching her every movement.

"Get on the bed."

Kaz's head snapped up. "What?"

Inej stared back at him, her eyes hardening into a challenge. Kaz stared back for a moment, then nodded shortly. He lay down on his back, his hands clenched and shaking slightly at his sides.

"Good," Inej murmured absentmindedly, and Kaz let out a shuddering exhale. His eyes were squeezed shut, like they had been at the stream when he had pulled away from her. Inej carefully swept his hair out of his face, then experimentally dug her hand into his hair and pulled. Kaz's mouth fell open, heat rushing to his cheeks. Inej pulled harder and this time Kaz moaned . It was a breathy, high sound that made Inej's heart race.

" Saints." Inej and Kaz's heads both whipped up to see Jesper at the door, slack-jawed and carrying a decent stack of Ravkan coin in his hand.

"Should I-"

"Come here, Jesper," Inej said. She glanced at Kaz, who managed a small nod. He seemed like he had lost the ability to speak.

Jesper immediately crossed the room, settling on Kaz's other side. His eyes raked across Kaz's clothed body as if he were seeing it for the first time.

"What do you want me to do?" He choked out.

Kaz's eyes opened, confusion flooding in, but Inej placed a reassuring hand in his hair and his head flopped down again, eyes blissfully closed.

"Touch his chest, Jesper." Inej instructed. "Gently, until he starts moving into your hand."

With awestruck reverence, Jesper splayed his hand across Kaz's clothed chest. Kaz jerked a little, then stilled. Jesper moved his hand across his body, tracing his ribs one by one and then slowly rubbing his nipple through the fabric of his shirt. Kaz let out a keening sound, his back arching into the touch.

"You like that, huh?" Jesper murmured. Kaz flushed red, biting his lip. Jesper rolled his nipple between his thumb and forefinger, toying with him until Kaz let out another whimper. Jesper looked down and saw that Kaz was hard, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. Kaz's good leg involuntarily bent and unbent on the mattress, a frantic rhythm of unspoken need.

"Say please, Kaz," Inej said. His eyes blinked open again and he gave her a dirty look, but his messy hair and flushed face ruined the effect. The two of them were caught in a battle of wills for a moment, punctuated by Kaz's heavy breaths as Jesper dug his fingers into his hips.

Finally, Kaz's gaze dropped. "Please."

Inej nodded to Jesper, who looked equal parts eager and astounded.

"Saints, yes, Kaz." Jesper gently shifted Kaz's legs apart and settled between them.

The noise Kaz made as Jesper mouthed his dick through his pants was positively indecent. He sobbed out loud, his head thrashing as Inej's hands replaced Jesper's on his chest. Too much and not enough echoed hungrily in his mind, his body taut to the breaking point between his two crows. He had never felt like this, had never known his body could feel so much pleasure.

Jesper pressed his hand to Kaz's cock and squeezed rhythmically, encouraging Kaz's shallow, eratic thrusts. Kaz gasped, his back arching off of the bed.

"Please-feels so good-" he choked out, his breaths turning into a steady litany of moans.

"Who knew you'd be so vocal," muttered Jesper. As if to prove him right, Kaz let out a high mewling sound as Inej pulled back on his hair. His whole body shuddered, and suddenly Jesper felt the fabric under his hands grow slick and wet.

Then, Kaz went completely limp.

Jesper flopped down on the mattress next to him.

" Saints, that was hot." Jesper swallowed, trying his best to ignore his own arousal. He didn't want to push his luck today.

Inej was still gently combing her fingers through Kaz's hair.

"You did so good for us, Kaz," she whispered, pressing a long kiss to his gloved hand. Kaz absentmindedly raised his hand to his mouth, touching his lips where Inej's had been a moment before.

"You alright?" Asked Jesper.

"S'alright," Kaz slurred, blinking owlishly at Jesper.

"Alright."