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He woke up to the feeling of the sun bathing his skin with its warmth.
Jesper’s eyes opened slowly, reluctantly. If he could, he’d bask in the tub of soft comforters and even softer pillows for days.
But there was work to be done.
People to threaten.
Money to be gained, or perhaps stolen.
Teases and kisses to be given to a certain curly-haired boy.
The Zemeni boy sat up, arms stretching towards the sky he loved so. He let out a yawn, stretching in a manner that let his bones crack deliciously. Perhaps he could get a massage today. Though as great as the gray skies and damp air in Ketterdam were, the sky above couldn’t compare to the one stretched across his boyfriend’s skin, with freckles for stars and blushes as clouds. Jesper loved finding the constellations littered across his skin and tracing them with his finger.
He couldn’t help but look over, a fond, tired smile appearing on his face as his eyes gratefully drank up the sight of Wylan splayed across the bed, clutching the bed sheets close to his chest with his slim fingers, cheeks slightly flushed and curls draping across his forehead. His back rose and fell in a steady rhythm, the corners of his mouth occasionally twitching in to either a smile or a pout.
I’m so lucky, Jesper thought for the millionth time, feeling his heart beat harder in his chest.
Though his back was to him, Jesper could still see the relaxed pout on Wylan’s face, and his smile widened even more.
It was Sunday, so there wasn’t much to do besides laze around and go over documents and legal papers. It had been almost two weeks since the whole incident with Kuwei, so they were still finalizing things and getting accustomed to their new lives. It was strange, not being on the run constantly from either the government or gangs. As much as Jesper loved relaxing and doing nothing of importance, that energy within him was going bonkers. If he didn’t do anything for too long he felt like he’d explode.
So today he’d do something.
“Wylan.”
The boy stirred slightly, a crease of worry forming above his eyes, but otherwise remained trapped in the realm of slumber.
“Wy.” Jesper tried again, leaning over him and slowly carding his long fingers through Wylan’s soft heap of curls. “Wake up, darling. You’ve gone too long without seeing me, you must be suffering.”
At that Wylan groaned loudly, causing a deep chuckle to emit Jesper. “’S Sunday. Piss off.” He mumbled into the pillow, though he turned anyway to face him, refusing to open his eyes.
“Ouch. I’m offended, one could even say wounded. Is that how you talk to me now? Because frankly I don’t approve one bit.” Jesper clutched his chest, feigning a look of pain. “Come on now, get up. I’m starving. Growing boys such as myself need to eat, if you weren’t aware.”
Wylan simply huffed, turning on his back and blocking the sunlight from hitting his eyes with his arm.
Sighing dramatically, Jesper straddled him, peering down at him wistfully. “Wyyylaaan.” He stretched out each syllable, laying down fully on the poor boy.
“Sweet Ghezen, you’re heavy. Careful with my ribs.” Wylan breathed out after he refilled his lungs desperately. His ribs were doing better, they were constantly putting ice on it, much to Wylan’s dismay, but his torso was still quite sore.
“I am. And, as I previously mentioned, growing boy.”
The two fell into a comfortable silence after that, Jesper’s face buried in Wylan’s neck. If he really wanted, he could fall asleep like this, in the arms of his boyfriend, not a worry in the world.
But he didn’t want to, so he wouldn’t.
Wylan was already half asleep again, Jesper could tell by how soft his breaths were, and how heavy and warm his body felt.
Slowly, he pressed a kiss to Wylan’s neck, hiding his grin as he felt the boy tense and shiver underneath him. Otherwise he stayed unaffected.
He blinked an eye open as he pressed another kiss to Wylan’s neck, watching as the skin beneath his lips morphed from pale to pale-pink. He loved making the little merchling blush and fidget. It was the highlight of his days, really. “Wake up, Sunshine.” Jesper pleaded, now scattering kisses all across Wylan’s neck and shoulders, slowly working his way upwards.
“Jes, stop that. It tickles.” Wylan giggled, trying his hardest to wriggle out from underneath the large Zemeni.
“Not until you open your eyes and pay attention.” Jesper replied, now pressing his kisses across Wylan’s jaw. “Sunshine. Suuunshiiine. Open your eyes lovely.” The nickname wasn’t new. At first it was ‘Wylan Van Sunshine’ but Jesper thought it was too long to say, so he shortened it to just ‘sunshine’, and it stuck. Even if it made Wylan stutter and blush like an idiot.
At this point the ‘sun-ray’ was a mess of giggles, his entire face being peppered by kisses. It was like Jesper was trying to kiss each and every one of the freckles dotted across his face. And that really really tickled. “J-Jesper, stop!” He gasped out through his laughter, uncovering his eyes and blinking them open reluctantly. “L-Look, look, they’re open! Now quit it!”
Jesper hummed in victory, pulling away as a grin stretched across his face. “Victory is mine. Better luck next time, merchling. No one can resist me and my charm.”
Wylan snorted. “You weren’t charming me. You were attacking me. There’s a big difference.” He sat up, yawning and stretching.
Jesper climbed off him, making sure not to hit any bruises as he did. “Is there? I wasn’t aware of any such differences.” He leaned in to press a kiss to the pale boy’s forehead, brushing his locks of curls back. “Good morning, sunshine.” He murmured, voice soft and touch even softer.
“Morning.” Wylan whispered, his smile shy. Jesper still made him feel all warm and gushy and shy inside. Well, Wylan was naturally shy regardless but Jesper made it so much worse with his constant teasing and flirting. “Why 'sunshine’? Is it replacing 'merchling’?”
“Heavens, no. You’ll always be a merchling.” When Wylan pouted, Jesper continues. “I called you 'sunshine’ when you first suggested the idea of there being an antidote for the parem, remember?”
“Of course I do.”
“You didn’t question it then.”
“I was too busy turning into a pile of mush to respond.”
“And you say I don’t charm you.”
I
Wylan rolled his eyes, though a fond smile was on his face regardless. “I say a lot of things, Jes.”
“That you do.” The zemeni mused out loud, before a hint of worry appeared in both his eyes and voice. “Do you not like it? The nickname, I mean.”
“No no no, it’s fine. I-I like it.” He confessed, cheeks turning that pinkish color that Jesper had come to love.
“Good because I wasn’t planning on stopping regardless.” Jesper stood up from the bed, stretching once more. “Now, I’m starved.”
Flushing again, Wylan stood up as well, trying to fix the bed slightly.
On weekends Wylan liked to try and do everything himself rather than have the servants and maids do everything. He wasn’t like his father. He didn’t like abusing people for his own personal benefit.
“I could ask the cook to-” He started, though was immediately stopped as he saw the look on Jesper’s face. A look similar to one he had seen before. “That look reminds me of a scheming face, oh Jesper what are you thinking now?”
“It’s not particularly a scheme, per say, but it is an idea. A marvelous one at that.”
“My definition of 'marvelous’ is different from yours, I think.”
“You think too much.”
“Didn’t you once say I was cuter when I was smart?”
A smirk appeared on Jesper’s face. “I say a lot of things, Wy.”
“That you do.” Wylan walked over to him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Now, what’s your so called 'marvelous’ idea?”
“How about instead of having the cooks make us breakfast, we make it ourselves?”
A crease formed between Wylan’s eyes. “Us? Cook? I think you’ve confused the words 'marvelous’ and 'absurd’.” A giggle escaped his parted lips. “Why on earth would you want us to attempt to cook?”
“We’ve attempted and succeeded in a rescuing of a rogue scientist out of the most heavily guarded building in the world. And put your father in jail. And survived Kaz while Inej was held hostage. I think we can manage baking a few waffles, merchling.”
“Making waffles and dodging bullets are two different things.”
“Are they? You hope for the best and pray nothing blows up.” Jesper’s signature smirk appeared on his face. “Besides, I know a thing or two about cooking”, He paused, face falling slightly, a somber tone in his voice, “My mother and I used to bake a lot. My father loves sweets,“As quickly as it came, the nostalgic mood was gone, "Plus you’re a genius when it comes to numbers. You can measure the ingredients and the time and all those things I most likely can’t.”
“Jesper, I don’t know-”
“Please? I want to do something nice for us, and also Inej. She’s here and she most likely misses Nina and waffles are their thing. Maybe it’ll make her feel better. Not to mention I’m tired of not being tired. I need to do something. As much as my mind loves laying in bed with you all morning long, my body feels differently on the idea of how to spend the day .”
Wylan sighed dramatically, and hope bubbled up in Jesper’s chest.
Who was Wylan to say no to that?
“Fine. We can cook-”
“Yes!”
“-but only if you promise not to make a mess.”
“You doubt my organization and tidyness?”
Wylan huffed, walking over to their closet and opening it as an example. “Judging by your side of the closet, yes.”
“You’re no fun, sunshine.” Jesper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine. I promise, no mess.” He let out a huff.
But, as everyone knew, promises were made to be broken.
—•—
After they had gotten dressed into more appropriate clothing - that being a large sweater and shorts for Wylan, and a tank top and sweatpants for Jesper {a/n: these existed in the 1800s right?} - they headed down stairs to the kitchen, bare feet passing against the cool wooden floors. Neither could tell if Inej was awake and wandering the house or still asleep, she was too silent for them to figure out. But they hoped she was asleep. It was nicer to surprise someone with breakfast when they were in bed.
“So, where do we start?” Wylan asked, flicking his curls out of his face as he climbed up atop of the kitchen counter top.
“To be honest, I was hoping you’d know.” Jesper said sheepishly. When he saw the look of disbelief on Wylan’s face, though, he let out a bark of laughter. “I’m just teasing, merchling. I’m not that hopeless.” He clapped his hands together. “Now, we need to get the ingredients out. I’m praying to all the saints and your aunt Eva that you’ve got them all already.” He turned, and began to search through the cupboards.
“Why do you say that?” Wylan asked as he watched his partner shuffle about the kitchen, grabbing boxes of things as he went.
“What? I told you, you’ll always be a merchling because you’re the son of a merchant.”
“No, not that- I mean, why do you say 'and your aunt eva’? What if I don’t have an aunt Eva?” He asked, swiftly catching the bottle of milk Jesper tossed to him.
Jesper pulled his head out of the cabinet, staring at Wylan for a moment before shrugging. “Saints, it’s an expression, sunshine. Alright, fine, then your uncle Dorian. Is that better for you?”
Wylan rolled his eyes, lips twitching up to a smile. “Yes, actually. It is. Thank you.”
“You’re a little shite, did you know that?” Jesper smirked, pressing a kiss to Wylan’s rose-pink cheek.
“But I’m your little shite, right?”
“Right.” Jesper gave him a quick kiss, leaving their hearts both beating frantically, before standing back and looking at the large assortment of ingredients, as well as all the tools. “Seems we’ve got everything. I’ll read you the ingredients and you can put them in the measuring cup and mix them. If you feel like my numbers are off you can make adjustments. You’re the one good at chemistry here.”
“Well, I am but cooking and chemistry aren’t that similar.” Wylan said, a bit flustered at how Jesper had so much trust in him with this. He’d never cooked waffles before. How was he to know If Jesper remembered the recipe a bit wrong?
“You’ll find a way to make it work, as you always do.” Jesper mused, handing Wylan one of the bowls and the measuring cup. “Now, pour 1 and ¾ of milk into this bowl here.”
Wylan huffed, but did as he was told anyway, pouring the proper amount of milk. “Next?”
“Crack two eggs!”
Wylan picked up the eggs, cracking them in one swift motion, a bright smile on his face. “Eggs, cracked! Now what?” This wasn’t as hard as it seemed.
Jesper continued rattling off the list of ingredients with their correct proportions, although he did almost put too much vegetable oil and not enough flour. But once the batter was all whisked and ready, they poured it into the waffle iron, closing the lid and letting it bake.
“And would you look at that, no mess!”
Wylan rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face. “I suppose I doubted you. You have my apologizes.” He began to clean up the ingredients, since they no longer needed them.
Jesper hopped off the counter. “Ah, how I love hearing people admit I was right. It’s music to my ears.”
“Shut it or I’ll take it back.”
“You would not.”
He was right, Wylan would not.
The Zemeni boy took the bag of flour into his large hands, examining it carefully. “Wylan, close your eyes and don’t open your mouth.” He said after a moment of silence, trying to hide the smirk on his face.
Wylan raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. “Why? What are you going to do?”
“Have some fun.”
“I think purchasing a thesaurus would benefit the both of us at this point, since we seem to have very different definitions on many wor-” Before he could finish, a bomb made up of a powdery substance erupted against his face, silencing him. He quickly opened his eyes, spitting out the flour in his mouth. “Did you just-” he took a deep breath, glaring at Jesper, “Did you just throw flour at my face?”
Jesper’s devilish, and he bounced the bag of flour in his hand teasingly. “Who, me? I don’t recall. If I did, however…. then what are you going to do about it, merchling?”
Wylan frowned, turning around and grabbing an egg. Jesper’ smug face immediately fell. Before he could protest, Wylan quickly threw the egg towards Jesper, the cracking sound echoing through the kitchen as the shell shattered and the insides splattered across Jesper’s shirt. A bit of the egg was strewn across his neck, causing his dark, rich skin to glean in the sunlight.
A gasp left Jesper’s lips, and Wylan couldn’t tell if it was from shock or pain, or both. “Oh, it’s on, sunshine.”
The fight that ensued was a food massacre.
Flour was strewn across the counters and clothing, milk splattered on the floor, eggshells in Wylan’s hair. Though neither cared, they were laughing after all. Loud and airy laughter, the one that made your stomach hurt and the corner of your eyes crinkle.
Wylan was sure he’d never felt as happy as this in his whole life. The same could be said for Jesper. It was a better feeling than any gambling hall could ever provide.
When the fight was over, the kitchen void of the ingredients that were there 10 minutes ago, they stayed there, panting heavily.
“You know, your aim isn’t half bad.” Jesper finally broke the silence, a grin on his face, white teeth showing. “But I guess I broke my promise.” He said, gesturing to the mess with his hands.
“You did. Who- Who’s go going to clean this all up?” Wylan breathed out, trying to catch his breath. He flicked his hair out of his face, grimacing when he felt some of it stick to his forehead due to the egg yolk.
“Well, I know someone who can clean you.”
Wylan blushed a deep red.
Jesper stepped closer, standing between Wylan’s legs. “Even with the flour on your face, I can still see you blush like a rose.”
He blushed even harder. “Shut up.” He mumbled.
“I can’t help it, sunshine. You just make it too easy.” Jesper pressed a kiss to Wylan’s forehead before connecting their lips together.
When they pulled away, both were as breathless as they had been during their food fight. Kisses do that to them, sometimes.
“You taste bad.” Jesper breathed out, resting his forehead against Wylan’s and nudging their noses together gently.
“So do you.” He replied, leaning up and kissing his lover desperately.
Whether it was seconds or minutes that passed, neither could tell or care. Their minds were fogged, but intentions clear. Eyes closed, hearts open. Lips dancing to the rhythm of their hearts. They were too wrapped up in what they were doing, in the moment, in the feeling, in each other, and neither of them felt like getting untangled anytime soon. It was beautiful. It was magical. It was igniting. It was floating. It was falling. It was soft. It was warm. It was everything they had ever wanted, craved, desired, dreamt, needed. It was…
It was…
“I thought I heard you two wrecking havoc, but Saints I didn’t think it was this bad.”
Wylan jumped, retracting from the kiss immediately at the sound of another person’s voice. He looked behind Jesper to see Inej standing beside them, eyebrow raises and arms crossed. Of course she had seen them. Of course they didn’t notice until she had spoken up. Her footsteps were quieter than a pin dropping.
“A 'good morning’ would suffice, thank you.” She added, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“G-Good morning.” Wylan managed to croak out, splotches of red revealing themselves on his cheeks. Ghezen, he hated when Inej snuck up on them.
“Inej! Don’t you know how to give two men some privacy.” Jesper huffed, turning to face her.
“It Isn’t privacy if you’re in the middle of the kitchen. What happened here? Actually, I’m not even quite sure if I’d like to know the details.”
“We made you waffle- Oh! The waffles!” Wylan cried out, hopping of the counter and opening the waffle iron as quickly as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized the waffles weren’t too badly burnt. “We made waffles for breakfast but-”
“But we got carried away, as you can imagine.” Jesper finished, signature smirk shining brightly. “Wylan’s quite competitive when it comes to who can toss flour the hardest.”
Inej grinned, a sight neither of them had seen much of in the past weeks. “I’m not surprised. Wylan’s got a fighter in him. Thank you for the waffles, nonethelessI’m sure I’ll enjoy them. Now, after you clean up this mess, care to join me for breakfast?” She said, taking a plate, carefully to avoid the mix of food ingredients strewn across the floor.
“We’ll be right there. This might take a while.” Jesper chuckled, gesturing to himself and Wylan.
After taking her waffle, Inej left the two boys in the kitchen. Wylan sighed, the rose color finally beginning to drain from his face. “I hate not being to hear her coming. She walks in on us all the time. One day it’ll be on something not so innocent.”
“Oh really now? 'One day’? When do you think that day will be?” Jesper asked, grabbing a broom and handing a wet washcloth to his loved. “I’m curious. Amuse me.”
“Not anytime soon if you keep it up with your antics.”
“Aw, you’re no fun, merchling.” Jesper stuck his tongue out at him teasingly. “I’ll make you change your mind, just you watch.”
Another blush creeped up Wylan’s neck. “I don’t doubt that.” He mumbled to himself as he began to wash down the counter.
They cleaned in silence. A comforting silence. Not deafening or heavy as it sometimes was. It was the type of silence one could bask in for days. They’d clean, share a kiss or two if they got close, and continue cleaning. The domesticity of it all was overwhelming in the best ways possible. It was the same feeling they had felt earlier.
It was love.