Chapter Text
“Jesper.”
The first thing Jesper heard that morning was the sound of his father’s worried voice. He stifled a groan, what had he done now?
“What’s up Da?” he yawned, plonking himself down at the table in front of him.
He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong but then again he never usually realised he’d done something stupid until the consequences of said stupid thing hit him in the face. Sometimes figuratively but on more times then not it was in the form of a certain crow headed cane. At least Kaz had yet to actually hit him with the metal crow part of the cane. That thing was nasty.
“Sit down,” Colm said, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of the table to him. Jesper sat cautiously, “Da-“ he started but Colm shushed him, holding a hand out to further his point.
“Your not in any trouble, before you start worrying.”
Jesper let out a breathy laugh, “don’t scare me like that Da!” Saints he was beginning to worry he’d snuck out to the tables at night without meaning to. It’s not like the urge hadn’t come to him, as he lay on the floor listening to Wylan breathing. There had even been one night where it had gotten to the point where he’d climbed onto the roof and lay down against the tiles, counting the stars until the unbearable itch had finally receded. It was always there, in the back of his mind, taunting him, but he’d learned to control it somewhat.
Somewhat. He wasn’t perfect but well… he was trying.
Colm cleared his throat and Jesper blinked, returning to the matter at hand. “I lost you for a second there,” his father commented with a raised eyebrow and Jesper smiled sheepishly, he did that a lot, got distracted by some thought or other and spiralled into what could be hours of thoughts or daydreams.
Bloody hell, nothing about his head made things easy for him. I must have been Kaz in a past life and now I’m being punished for that god awful haircut.
“I just want to make sure everything is okay between you and Wylan.”
Jesper blinked. Sure things had been a little strained when the two of them returned from their disastrous trip to the Cofton marketplace a few days ago but the morning after Wylan had woken up and seemingly forgot all about their argument on the road, going right back to teasing Jesper and unbuttoning his the first few buttons of his shirt because it delighted him to see Jesper get flustered. He hadn’t thought anything was different between them, but maybe he was just so glad that Wylan hadn’t dropped him as a friend that he was just grasping onto every shred of affection he could like a starving beggar.
He directed his gaze to his hands absently drumming a melody he’d heard somewhere before onto the hard wood of the table, “no,” he said carefully, “everything is fine between us, why?”
Colm shuffled rather uncomfortably in his seat, shooting a few apprehensive glances at Jesper’s closed door. Wylan was still asleep, saints that boy could sleep for days if Jesper let him.
“I came in to wake you earlier this morning,” his father said slowly, “and you were sleeping on the floor.”
Jesper breathed out a relieve exhaled, so that was what this was all about! He shook his head, laughing slightly, “saints Da, no we’re okay, no I just-“ he paused, once again, thinking on the spot had never been his strong suit, not unless he had a gun in his hand and about ten people firing at him, “I was just being really annoying to him so he got in a huff and kicked me off the bed,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, and then, because he technically could, added “he gets all grumpy when he’s sleepy, it’s cute.”
Colm just shook his head fondly, “saints knows I don’t know how that boy puts up with you-“ Jesper made a scandalised noise but Colm cut him off “-but I think he’s good for you. I like him.”
Jesper looked away guiltily, he did feel bad about lying to his father like this but he hadn’t been able to think of a better way to get his father to relax. He hesitated for a moment, but he figured he might as well make sure this whole endeavour hadn’t been futile so he asked, “does this mean you’ll stop? Worrying I mean.” Colm looked at him for a long moment then nodded, “I’ll always worry about Jes,” he said softly “but yes, I’ll ease up a bit in my letters, like I said, he’s good for you.”
He's too good for me, Jesper thought sadly, and wasn’t that just painfully true.
“I love him Da,” he said lowly, almost too quiet for Colm to hear, “I really, really love him.” It was the first time he’d said those words aloud, always too afraid Inej -bless her- would tell Kaz or Nina would blurt it out to Wylan when drunk. It felt… good… to finally say it, even if his father beamed at him, looking proud for all the wrong reasons. It felt, just a little bit, like acceptance.
Colm shifted in his seat again, as if to get up but Jesper reached out a hand to stop him, not quite touching but the meaning was clear. Jesper glanced at the door once more, “I need.. I need to talk to you, about something important.”
Colm’s face fell, “oh Jes what have you-“
“-saints Da!” Jesper said hurriedly, “I haven’t done anything! Ghezen you lot have no faith in me.”
Colm just raised an eyebrow and Jesper looked away, just a little bit ashamed, “okay fine,” he relented, “I haven’t exactly given you a lot to have faith in,” he took a deep breathe, “no I just… needed to ask you something.”
Colm nodded, a concession for him to speak but Jesper stayed silent for another moment, thinking about the best way to word what he was agonising over, “a few years ago,” he said slowly, “around three maybe, before I met Wylan, I was infatuated with a friend of mine.”
He wasn’t lying… not really. Just speaking in his classic way of half truths and thinly veiled lies. “I was… absolutely obsessed with him, I think I even loved him at one point,” I still do love him, more then anything, more then life itself, “but I never told him,” I never will, “I just stayed his friend, his most trusted person but all the while I was craving something he never entertained about having with me.” He was talking about Wylan of course, but he hoped that if he kept the descriptions loose enough his father would assume he was talking about someone else, Kaz maybe, there had been a point when Jesper had let himself fall victim to Kaz’s mysterious aura but he never liked to remember those dark days…
Colm was silent, letting Jesper talk but he could tell his father was listening intently so he continued, his palms sweaty, still drumming that weirdly familiar tune, “I can’t help but think that maybe I was creepy, that I stayed his friend all the while hiding how I felt, hiding the things I thought. I keep thinking that I was taking advantage of him and that if he ever found out he would hate me for it. That maybe I should have cut my losses and stopped being his friend or told him of my feelings so that he could choose if he wanted to stay friends or not. But I didn’t, I was cowardly and selfish and,” he closed his eyes, swallowing, “he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve me.” He whispered, the admission feeling like a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders, “Wylan… Wylan doesn’t deserve me, he’s good, too good, too good for Ketterdam, too good for me, I’m a mess and he deserves better.”
There was a hand, broad and warm, resting on his shoulder now and he looked up, seeing Colm standing over him, a pained expression colouring his face, “you’re not a mess Jes,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way.”
“You didn’t,” he croaked, hating that now he was hurting as father as well, hurting him again.
But Colm shook his head, “I did son, I didn’t mean too but I did.” His hand moved from Jesper’s shoulder to cup his cheek, and he leaned into his touch without meaning to, “you’re not a mess, you’re not selfish. Wylan is good for you yes, but you’re good for him too, I see the way he looks at you, like you hung the stars in the sky just for him.”
Jesper turned away abruptly, feeling like he just got shot, stop, he pleaded, don’t talk like that, don’t talk like there is anything more between us. “And… the other thing?” he said instead, because he needed to know, needed it more then he’d ever needed anything before.
“That you loved your friend?” Jesper winced but nodded nevertheless.
Colm paused, looking thoughtful, moving to rest against the table, his hand once again resting on Jesper’s shoulder, “I don’t think you were selfish.” He said finally, looking at Jesper with silvery eyes that he knew he mirrored, “we can’t help who we fall in love with, we never have any control over it and it’s scary, but if your friend is any sort of decent person he’d understand.”
Jesper swallowed, closing his eyes, “and I’m not- I wasn’t…”
“Creepy?” Colm supplied and Jesper nodded.
“No.” Colm’s answer was immediate and Jesper looked up in surprise, “no, you weren’t creepy. Like I said, we can’t choose who we love and there is nothing wrong with wanting to stay friends with them regardless of if they feel the same.”
Jesper felt… weightless… at those words. For so long he’d been terrified that he was a horrible person, taking advantage of Wylan and his kindness. And maybe he still was, but his father didn’t think so and Jesper thought the world of his father, disagreements be dammed.
At that moment, the door to his bedroom opened and Wylan stumbled blearily out, yawning and rubbing his eyes in a way that made his heart double take. Then Wylan looked at him and smiled and Jesper remembered his words on the rain soaked street, this is fake, what does it matter to you? And his mood sobered up completely.
He mouthed a quick thank you to his father who had gone back to his tea and stood, beating Wylan to the pot of coffee, “you are way too sleepy to he handling hot water,” he chided, flicking Wylan on the side of his head for good measure. Wylan glared at him for a moment before shrugging and stretching to reach his favourite mug that Jesper had purposefully placed on the top shelf for this very reason. The bottom of his burgundy button down rode up slightly, exposing a strip of pale, freckled skin and from the way Wylan was watching him, Jesper could tell it was on purpose.
He smirked, then sidled up behind Wylan, wrapping his arms around his waist to give Jesper an excuse to lean in close to his ear, “you’ll have to find a better way to get me flustered then that,” he murmured, his lips brushed Wylan’s ear without meaning to but then the other boy shuddered and Jesper found it hard to think much about anything. He lifted one of Wylan’s hands before his body could get the better of him and brought it to his cheek, “that little trick of yours has been overused, doesn’t work so well anymore.”
Wylan turned in his arms and Jesper felt his stomach swoop when he saw how flushed red the merchling’s face was, but the glint in his sparkling eyes was determined and before Jesper knew it, Wylan was tugging him close with the hand on his cheek, murmuring a quick, “what about this then?” and then suddenly Wylan’s lips were on his.
The kiss was brief, barely even a second, just a single, fleeting press of lips on lips before Wylan was pulling away again, smirking, blue eyes scanning Jesper’s rapidly heating face. Wylan grinned, but there was something a little but off about the smile, it didn’t quite meet his eyes, “gotcha,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb over his cheek for an agonising second before pulling away, unwrapping Jesper’s arms from around his waist as he did.
Jesper blinked, mind still reeling, still playing over the last few seconds because Wylan just kissed him! Wylan Van Eck, his Wylan, the Wylan he’d been in love with for two years had finally, finally kissed him!
But then he remembered Wylan’s words, spoken on a rainy dusk in the middle of the street, an angry flush covering his cheeks, halfway to shouting, this is fake! It’s not real! What does it matter to you? And his momentary joy came crashing down around him. This was all a game to Wylan, a trick to make Jesper blush so that he could sleep on the bed. A dirty little trick, to catch him off guard, doing exactly what Jesper told him to do because it had been his idea two weeks ago. It was fake, it was fake and all of this, even the kiss, was just to keep his father from getting suspicious.
He needed air. He needed to get out. He needed Wylan. He needed Wylan to go away and get out of his space and he also needed him to come back and pull him down for another kiss, a proper one, a real one and not a fake one. One that was built on love and affection and not lies and deception.
But Jesper wasn’t going to get that kiss. Ever. So he needed to get out.
He stumbled though a half-hearted excuse, avoiding Wylan’s questioning look and rushed into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him as quickly as he could before practically collapsing onto the sink. He gripped the sides of the metal basin, tipping forward to press his forehead against the cold glass of the mirror.
The cold was grounding, helping to tether him to the spot, keeping him here, in the bathroom instead of tucked away in a dirty alley, gambling away his father’s money. He could still feel Wylan, feel the hot press of his hand against his cheek, the movement of his soft lips against his own for a single, wondrous moment.
It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t Wylan’s fault, he knew that and he would never, ever blame him. But Saints he just couldn’t catch a break with this damned boy!
One way or another, he thought, pressing himself harder against the mirror, gripping the basin even tighter, just trying to hold on to some semblance of sanity, this can’t go on.
He hadn’t considered, all those weeks ago, when he had stood in front of Wylan, his father’s letter in hand and asked if he would pretend to be his boyfriend for six weeks, just how much of an affect this would have on him. He’d been in close quarters with Wylan before, bloody hell they practically lived together, the Slat was not known for its privacy.
But this… this was different. This was Wylan in his childhood home, sleeping in his childhood bed, kissing him and hugging him and playing his part so well Jesper often had to remind himself it was fake.
But what was he supposed to do? He could hardly tell his father it was fake but he also couldn’t tell Wylan that his feelings were real while they were trapped in the same house because what if Colm was wrong? What if Wylan would hate him?
Just three more weeks, he chanted in his head, just three more weeks and it’ll all be okay, three more weeks and it’ll be over.
In just three weeks he’d be on a ship to Ketterdam, and then he’d be in Ketterdam and back in the Slat, shooting guns for Kaz and ending up in a different bed most nights in his bid to forget about curly red hair and sparkling blue eyes.
Back to normalcy, to a world where he’d never again feel Wylan’s lips on his skin.
He hated how that made him feel more disappointed then relieved.
Eventually, after what could have been years, once his head stopped buzzing he pushed himself up, wiping the condensation off his forehead. Then he paused, staring at the basin, the back of his hand still pressed over his forehead.
The sides of the sink, where he had gripped them with his hands, were black and scorched, like something hot had burned right through the metal. He swallowed, then wiped his hand over the marks again, turning blackened metal silver once more.
Wylan shot Jesper an odd look when he finally emerged from the bathroom but he plastered on a smile that felt all too fake and blew a kiss in Wylan’s direction, causing the furrowed brows to smoothen over just slightly. One thing was for certain, he decided in that moment, watching Wylan hum his favourite tune while he prepared the coffee, the steam making his bed mussed curls even frizzier, was that whether or not he decided to tell Wylan, he wouldn’t do it here. Wylan deserved this break just as much as he did, and he wasn’t going to let anyone -even himself- take that away from him.
He kissed his fathers forehead as he passed, winked at Wylan with a ‘thanks sunshine,’ when he handed him his coffee and did what he did best, what he’d done for years, simply masked his inner turmoil with a dazzling smile and a hundred jokes.
Jesper might not be good for much, but he was always good for a laugh.
~♧~
It took three bells, for the conversation to lull and for Jesper to finally manage to slip away from the two men he loved most in the world. It was get another sweltering day on this side of Novyi Zem but he didn’t mind, the air was refreshing after so long sitting inside, feeling like he was going to combust. He wasn’t having a ‘bad head day’ as his Ma used to call them, when every light, sound and smell was too much, too much. No, right now it felt more like everything was a lot. He wasn’t spiralling, but his head was running at a hundred miles an hour and he just needed a break, a moment to just breathe and pick up the scattered, screaming fragments of his mind, slowly piecing them back together until the confused yelling in his head eased up slightly. It never stopped, but he’d learned to tune it out.
His feet had led him up a hill, to the base of a single, flowering cherry tree. He froze, in the two weeks he’d been at his father’s farm he had yet to visit his mother’s final resting place. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was just that he found it hard, even after twelve years, to accept that she was truly dead. That this tree, on this hill would be the closest he’d ever get to her before he too ran out of luck and ended up six feet under.
Sometimes Jesper liked to imagine he would go out the same way his mother did, heroically sacrificing himself to save a helpless child. Or even to save anyone, Kaz, Inej, Wylan. He has taken a bullet for Wylan once, about ten months ago. It had just shot straight through his shoulder and he’d been so buzzed on risk and adrenaline that he hadn’t even noticed it until Wylan dragged him away from the fight with shaking hands. He had slapped him upside the head and told that under no uncertain terms was he to do that again before bursting into stressed out tears, all while putting pressure on Jesper’s rapidly bleeding bullet wound.
They both knew Jesper would do it again.
But Jesper knew, deep down, that no heroic fate awaited him. He would die in a dirty alleyway, pummelled to death by a mob of vengeful debt collectors. That was his fate, Jesper just didn’t know if he deserved such a dreary one.
He sat down, at the base of the trunk, looking up at pink flowers that were steadily falling in the soft wind. He thought of Wylan’s words, in the barn on their first night here.
“Would you be proud of me?” he wondered aloud, “would you be proud your only son was a bad gambler and a great shot? That the skills you taught me to help curb my restlessness are being used to kill others for money?” he leaned against the rough bark, closing his eyes, “you wouldn’t be proud,” he murmured with a self deprecating smile, “no one is proud of me, not even myself.”
So what will you do about it, little rabbit?
Jesper knew it wasn’t actually his mother’s voice talking. It was just his head, making up the voices to help comfort him as it had done when he was a child. It was just his own voice talking to him, but wasn’t it nice to pretend sometimes?
“I cant change,” he said softly, still with his eyed closed, “that would put too many people in danger, Kaz, Inej, Da, Wylan.”
He was trying to stop the gambling. He was trying to lessen the drinking. He was trying to avoid the clubs and the bars and the crazy nights out in favour for nights in, for conversations with Inej, snacks with Nina, debates with Matthias and helping Wylan assemble bombs. He was trying, he was trying, and he would keep trying until he made his Da proud, until he became the sort of person his Ma could be proud of.
“There you are!”
Jesper opened his eyes, seeing Wylan standing in front of him, a basket cradled in his arms. It was probably concerning that he hadn't even heard him coming but Kaz wasn't around to chastise him so he didn't think too much of it. Wylan plopped down in front of him, grinning that crooked smile he had when he was planning something, “I was beginning to think you’d run off to become one with the cows.”
Jesper snorted, “I’m too good-looking to be a cow merchling.”
“The sheep then.”
Jesper found himself smiling despite his sour mood, that was just Wylan’s affect on him. He nodded to the little basket, “what’s that sunshine?”
Wylan flicked his knee, “don’t call me sunshine,” he grumbled, then brightened, reaching into the basket to pull out a haphazardly wrapped plate of chocolate buns, “since you so rudely made your father believe I’m a terrible cook,” Jesper scoffed but Wylan ignored him, “I had to save my reputation and help him make these so,” he brandished a bun at Jesper, grinning like a kid on the morning of the winter festival, “ta da!”
Jesper smiled and took the bun off him, “ta da indeed,” he said, inspecting the bun for any sign of disaster, he hadn’t been lying when he said Wylan was a foul cook. Wylan shifted so he was sat beside Jesper, also leaning against the tree. Jesper barely noticed, too engrossed in making sure the bun won’t kill him, but, funnily enough, he did notice when Wylan shuffled again, so that his head was resting on Jesper’s shoulder.
Jesper felt his heart triple in speed and not for the first time he thanked the saints that Wylan wasn’t a heartrender. He cleared his throat, nudging Wylan with his elbow, “merchling my dad isn’t here,” he said, feeling just a little bit proud that his voice didn’t waver, “you can cut the sappy bullshit.”
Wylan raised an eyebrow, making as if to snatch the bun from him, “oh? So you don’t want these absolutely delicious cupcakes then?”
Jesper forfeit inspecting the bun for poison and shoved the whole thing into his mouth, “I didn’t say that,” he said, voice muffled by the chocolate monstrosity. “Absolutely delicious” was the biggest overestimate of the century, Wylan really, really couldn’t bake.
Jesper was rather proud of himself that he didn’t spit out the god-awful bun but he didn’t make any moves to eat another. Wylan took a bite out of one and grimaced, slowly putting the unfinished bun back on the plate, “how can you eat that?” he said, aghast, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, “its disgusting.”
Jesper wrinkled his nose, “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings sunshine.”
Wylan swatted him on the shoulder, “what did I say about calling me that?”
“Its cute seeing you get all annoyed,” Jesper said with a grin, and the light pink blush that coloured Wylan’s face did not disappoint. “Oh stop it you flirt,” Wylan grumbled and Jesper just winked, “nah, it’s even cuter seeing you go all red, you’re like a little tomato.” His eyes widened just as Wylan groaned, “tomato! That’s an even better nickname then Sunshine!”
“No!” Wylan cried, burying his face in his hands while Jesper laughed, attempted to poke his red cheeks, “come on, show me your face my little tomato!”
“Go away you bastard!” Wylan ducked under Jesper’s hands, burrowing into his side, “stop it!”
Jesper finally relented, pulling away and letting Wylan sit up straight. “Oh!” he cried suddenly, brandishing his hands as he suddenly remembered something and Wylan blinked, looking a bit taken aback, “I forgot!”
“Clearly,” Wylan said dryly, watching him with a raised eyebrow.
He clicked his fingers, “we have to sleep together.”
Wylan blinked, recoiling slightly in shock and Jesper hurried to backtrack, “no wait! Not like that, not unless you want- no wait that’s not-“ he buried his face in his hands and groaned even as Wylan laughed beside him. He took a deep breathe then turned back around to face Wylan, who was watching him with an amused expression, “let’s try this again, what I meant to say,” Wylan snorted but Jesper ignored him, “is that we have to sleep in the same bed from now on.”
“Why?”
“My Da walked in on us to wake me up and saw me sleeping on the floor so then I had to try and come up with an excuse as to why I was on the floor and not the bed and you know I’m terrible at thinking on the spot.”
Wylan rolled his eyes, “oh yes I’m well aware trust me.”
It took all of Jesper’s effort not to wince, “so yeah,” he finished, “we have to sleep in the same bed now because I don’t want to have to explain to my father again about us having an argument.”
Wylan frowned, “you told him we had an argument?”
“Well no, he assumed that, I just told him I kept fidgeting and annoying you and you kicked me out of the bed,” he smiled a little bit but Wylan’s frown only deepened.
“Wy?”
Wylan was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke his voice had an odd lilt to it, “I wouldn’t do that, you know.” He said softly.
Jesper snorted, “yes you would, you’re a little devil of course you’d make me sleep on the floor.”
But Wylan didn’t laugh, “no,” he said determinedly, “I wouldn’t kick you out of the bed for that.”
Now Jesper was the one who frowned, “for what?”
“For that” Wylan gestured at Jesper’s fidgeting hands, “I wouldn’t kick you out for doing something you can’t help, the fidgeting is apart of you as much as not reading is a part of me,” he shrugged, “if you can accept me as I am then I can accept you as you are.”
Jesper blinked, “that was…” he blinked again, feeling just a little overwhelmed, “that- thank you.”
Wylan smiled softly, “you do the same for me.”
Jesper shook his head, “your brilliant Wy, you’re too good for me, you know that?”
Wylan didn’t look up from his hands, frowning again, “you don’t have me though.”
This time Jesper didn’t hold back the wince and he was glad Wylan wasn’t looking, I’m well aware of that merchling, you don’t need to remind me.
“No,” he said instead, fighting the tremor out of his voice, “I don’t have you. But whoever does get you will be the luckiest son of a bitch in Kerch.” In the whole goddamned world because you mean more to me then the entire fucking universe.
Wylan looked up at him sharply, eyes wide and Jesper quickly looked away, staring down the hill at the wide expanse of jurda fields that separated them from the his father’s farm. It was like a little bubble, up here on the hill, under his mother’s tree, just the two of them alone, together, completely isolated from the world at the bottom of the hill. Already he could see streaks of golden light peaking up from the horizon and he frowned, how long had they been up here? How long had he been here before Wylan had found him and fed him disgusting chocolate buns.
It was Wylan, once again, who broke the charged silence between them, “do you mean that?” he asked softly, his voice almost breathy in a way that made Jesper’s heart leap.
He nodded, refusing to look away from the approaching subset, away from the boundaries of the Zemini sky, the sky that reminded him so much of Wylan’s. Or did his eyes remind him of the sky? It was hard to think properly with the intense way Wylan’s gaze was burning holes into the side of his head. “Yeah Wylan,” he said, his voice low and barely more then a whisper, “yeah I mean it. Whatever lucky bastard gets to have you better thank his saints every goddamn day because you, Wylan,” he turned away from the sky to stare at Wylan and was almost overcome with the pure emotion on his face, it was like nothing he’d ever seen and yet he couldn’t decipher it. It was as unreadable as it was clear to him and he didn’t know what to think of it. So he didn’t think, he just stared into Wylan’s clear blue eyes and kept talking, “you are a Saint and no one in that country of heathens deserves you, but whoever you choose to give yourself to better be grateful every day for the rest of their saints-forsaken lives.”
There was a long moment of silence where they just stared at each other and Jesper could hear the pounding of his heart so clearly he was questioning if Wylan could hear it too. He had practically told Wylan everything, there was no way someone as clever as Wylan wouldn’t be able to decipher the underlying message that he hadn’t even meant to say, it all just kinda… happened. And yet, as they stared at each other, Wylan’s gaze pinning him into place with the strength of someone tying him to the tree he sat near, Jesper didn’t have it in him to panic. How could he, when Wylan was looking at him like that? What was it his Da had said?
I see the way he looks at you, like you hung the stars in the sky just for him.
Because that was it, that was the exact way Wylan was looking at him, eyes wide, brows raised ever so slightly, blue eyes soaking up every inch of his own grey. Not for the first time, Jesper felt the familiar trickle of hope crawling up his spine and this time, he didn’t push it down. That something was there again, and even though Jesper still couldn’t quite decipher it, he had a feeling, a wondrous, hopeless feeling, that he just might know what it was.
“Wylan,” he said softly, still refusing to break the eye contact, refusing to push away the hope, refusing to do anything but stay here in their little bubble, locked in the clutches of Wylan’s ever intensive gaze, “you’re staring.”
That seemed to knock some sense into Wylan and he blinked, looking startled before smiling ever so slightly, that soft one, Jesper’s favourite one, when the left side of his mouth tugged up ever so slightly, like it was being pulled by a string, “you’re an idiot,” Wylan breathed, but before Jesper could ask him what he meant Wylan rushed forward and all of a sudden Wylan’s lips were on his for the second time that day.
This time though, this time was real.
This time Wylan didn’t pull away after a second, instead he pushed forward, holding onto the back of Jesper’s neck as if he would fall apart if he let go and honestly yeah, he probably would. He couldn’t think, all that was bouncing round his head was just Wylan, Wylan, Wylan. Wylan obviously underestimated his strength and just how down bad Jesper was because no sooner had he launched at him had Jesper lost his balance and fell backwards onto the hard ground, punching the air out of his chest with an oof but he didn’t let up, instead he finally, finally let his hand sink into Wylan’s curly red hair to hold him close.
Wylan kissed like the bombs he made on a daily basis, chaotic and relentless so very destructive. He kissed with a pointed determination like he was just craving to take him apart at the seams and fuck Wylan was on the way there. The way his hand -his fucking hands- gripped his shoulders tightly one moment and then softly caressed his cheek the next drove him crazy in the best way possible. He kissed Jesper like he was an equation that needed to be solved, with careful accuracy until Jesper would have just happily died right there, pressed between Wylan and the hard, cherry leaf covered ground.
It was Jesper who -reluctantly- pulled away because air was, unfortunately, a necessity, “Wylan,” he gasped, “what-“
“-Stop friend zoning me,” Wylan interrupted, moving his hand from Jesper’s cheek to tilt his chin up, “and just kiss me you podge.”
So Jesper did, because saints he would anything Wylan asked.
He surged upwards, tugging Wylan down with a grip on his hair and using the unexpectedness of his actions to his advantage, slowly taking over the control and pushing the other boy over until he was the one on top.
Then he pulled away again, stopping Wylan from following him with a soft press of a finger on his chin, “Wy,” he murmured, “as much as I’m loving this-“ Wylan snorted and Jesper just smiled fondly at the sound, “-I need to know, what-“
Wylan rolled his eyes, that left sided smile tugging on his lips again and Jesper could have melted at the sight. “In case you didn’t notice,” Wylan said, stroking Jesper’s cheek with one hand and he leaned into the touch, “I kinda like you.”
Jesper scoffed, although his heart leapt as he heard the words. He likes me! His head screamed and for once he didn’t try to shut it out, he likes me he likes me!
“Say it again,” Jesper said, looking down at Wylan with more fondness then he ever thought possible. Wylan just looked back at him those beautiful blue eyes of his and Jesper felt like he could get lost in them all over again. It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, it was like evert time was the first. Like he was being transported to that morning, three years ago, when he’d walked into the Tannery on Kaz’s orders and his eyes met a pair of captivating blue. As cringe as it sounded, to Jesper it was like time had stopped, like he could just stare into those eyes forever more and be totally satisfied.
And now he had him, he had Wylan, pinned underneath him, staring up at him such fondness in those eyes Jesper almost couldn’t take it. His cheeks were flushed redder then Jesper had ever seen them -which was saying something- and his hair was messy -because Jesper had been running his hands through it, because Jesper had been kissing him- and Jesper couldn’t help but think, once again, that Wylan was the most beautiful thing he’d ever set his eyes on. No Ravkan Jewells or Fjerdan Ladies could ever have anything on Wylan.
No one could, because for Jesper all he wanted was Wylan, only Wylan, only ever Wylan.
Wylan beamed at him, his eyes scanning every inch of Jesper’s face, “I kinda like you,” he said again, then his smile turned more lopsided, like it did when he was joking, “just a little bit though, not much, you’re still an infuriating bastard.”
Jesper grinned down at him, leaning over to press a kiss to his perfect nose, “well unluckily for you, I happen to like your stupid face quite a lot, so now I’m your infuriating bastard.” It was the understatement of the century, but Jesper felt like it was too early to tell Wylan he loved him. Relationships to Jesper were new and scary and he knew it was the same for Wylan.
The smile that spread across Wylan’s face was new, but Jesper loved it anyway, just like how he loved everything about Wylan. “Yeah?” Wylan asked softly, looking up into his eyes once more, “that’s what you want?”
“To be yours?”
Wylan nodded, looking for the first time, just a little bit worried. Jesper leaned over further to kiss the tiny furrow of his brow, “I just want you Wylan, whatever you’ll give me and whatever you’ll have of me, I just want you. So yeah, I do want to be yours. Only ever yours.” He punctuated his words with small kisses to each of his freckles, until he felt Wylan smile and relax against him.
“Mine,” Wylan whispered softly, linking their hands together and running his thumb over the top of his knuckles.
“Yours,” Jesper responded, pulling away so that he could dive, once more, now unrestrained, into the endless sea of Zemini sky. He’d tell Wylan he loved him someday, but not now, not today.
Now he just wanted to be here, with Wylan, with the golden rays of the sunset turning his curls into a loving flame.
Wylan pulled him down with the hand on his cheek and Jesper went eagerly, allowing himself to fall head over heels in love with him again, except this time, everything was real. There was no Colm to keep happy, no Kaz needing them to flirt for a job, no men needing to be scammed, there was just Jesper and Wylan, under his mother’s tree, on top of the hill overlooking his father’s farm and it was finally, finally real.
A single, pink petal floated down from the tree above them and landed lightly on their interlaced hands and it felt, just a little bit, like love.