Chapter Text
It’s not that Wylan was nervous to meet Jesper’s father.
It’s just that Wylan was nervous to meet Jesper’s father.
He knew there was no pressure, hell he had met Colm before. They had been brief interactions, a friendly wave and polite exchanges until Jesper came crashing between them with some declaration. Yet, this was the first year that Wylan was spending his summer at Jesper’s home farm.
(This was partially influenced by the fact that Wylan’s father had kicked him out and Wylan was essentially homeless, and Jesper had insisted firmly that Wylan was coming home with him for the summer. Either that or sleep on Kaz’s couch and ‘really darling, sleeping on Kaz’s couch? Could you imagine ?’).
This was going to be good. It was exciting! Wylan was excited to meet Colm properly, and all the other people Jesper spoke about and also to finally see where his dear heart had come from. Jesper of course was open about his life, he was open about his mother's death, but to actually see one’s childhood home made a difference.
Jesper lived in Dorset. From what Wylan understood, Dorset had nice beaches. His own home in Belgravia did not have beaches. Perhaps once Wylan had been to a beach for a holiday but it was brief and didn’t make a lasting impact. All Jesper spoke about was the beach, and bringing Rika to the shoreline for the sunsets.
At first, Wylan thought Rika was a sibling or a cousin because of how Jesper spoke about her. How he loved to bring her down for the sunset then go for a swim before heading home, stopping at the pub if they had time. Wylan was incredibly mistaken when Jesper had gone home for Christmas and sent him a photo of a bay horse with a ribbon between her ears and the caption ‘Happy Christmas from RIKAAA!!!!!’
Rika was a horse. As were Gunsmoke, Nancy, Copper, and Timothy.
Unbeknownst to most, Kaz Brekker actually owned Timothy. However, Oxford wasn’t exactly the place to keep a horse, and so Timothy was kept at Jesper’s farm. Once, many months ago, Wylan actually saw Kaz showing Inej a photo of a rug he was getting for Timothy that had little stars on it for the horse's birthday. Like Rika, Timothy was also a rescue.
It appeared Kaz had a habit of rescuing things. Between Timothy, and Ghezen the crow. And nearly his entire friend group.
Wylan knew Kaz would stop by before making his journey to the North to stay with Inej in Birmingham. Nina would return to Dublin and Matthias was talking of returning to Helsinki, though he probably would go to Dublin.
That only left Jesper and Wylan and their journey to Dorset.
Jesper wasn’t a bad driver per se, but if Wylan had to choose between public transport or going with his boyfriend he’d probably pick the bus. Taylor Swift was blasting, the windows rolled down as Jesper drove one-handed, a cigarette cradled in his other. He was definitely more invested in singing along to All Too Well than how his driving was.
But when Jesper finished his cigarette, his hand switched to the wheel and the other rested comfortingly on Wylan's thigh, there was nothing suggestive about the touch.
Yes. Wylan could get used to this.
~
“Da!” Jesper kicked the front door open, juggling his bags. Wylan didn’t understand how one human could pack so much, especially to be returning to his own home. It was a sharp contrast to the two bags that Wylan had packed. By the time they pulled up to Cherry Ridge Farms, the sun was setting below the horizon but when Wylan took his first lungful of sea air he felt the stress of university leave him. The soft rustle of the breeze, the song of insects, it was so perfectly peaceful until Jesper slammed his door shut and began shouting.
“Christ, Jes. Your grandfather will hear you at this point,” Colm shouted.
“My grandfather is dead,” Jesper said over his shoulder to Wylan. “Blessed be our Fintan Fahey.”
Wylan just watched as Jesper ungracefully clambered into the home. The Fahey’s home was not grand, it was a comfortable two-story house and there was nothing around them except hills and the ocean.
“Hello, hello,” Jesper grinned, throwing the bags down and then going over to his father and pulling him into a hug. There wasn’t much difference in height between the two. But Colm was a sturdier build than Jesper, with kind green eyes and tanned skin. He wasn’t dark like Jesper, but it was clear he spent time outside in the sun.
The walls of the house were lined with photos; photos of Jesper as a kid jumping a pony, Colm standing next to a grey horse with a rosette, and a lady sat sidesaddle with a child balanced in front her.
“I thought you would be up earlier,” Colm said, taking off his tweed cap and running his fingers through his hair. “I had horses left for you to ride.”
“I’m sorry, I got lost,” Jesper sat down, not hurrying to put his bags away. He looked at the kettle on the stove and then got up again. “Tea, dearest?”
“Please,” Wylan said quietly. Colm looked up now and then grinned.
“Hello there, Wylan.”
“Hello, Mr Fahey, sir.”
“Ah, I think we’re beyond that now, son.”
Wylan felt the heat crawl into his cheeks and then diverted his gaze back into the kitchen. Like the hall, it was filled with photos and books. Books lined the walls, mismatched tea sets hung on the wall next to horseshoes and rosettes.
At the back door, the rack was filled with long boots and welly boots and two scruffy-looking border collies.
“I’m annoyed at you, Jes. I set out three horses for you, I thought you’d be home early.”
“Awk, da,” Jesper sighed, setting a cup down for Wylan before sipping from his own. “Give this weary heart a break. I just drove two hours.”
“Exactly, two hours.”
Jesper had gotten distracted, and they had stopped for lunch, and then Jesper wanted to do a photo shoot. Two hours had actually turned into four.
“Well, do you want me to ride them now?” he asked. “There’s still light. I could go ponying. Would that satisfy you?” Jesper drawled. “You said three, tá?”
There was a book opened in front of Jesper, Wylan had glanced at it but the words had blurred together. But it was a list, he could tell that much. Jesper lifted the list, humming.
“Aye, I could ride Oisin and lead Ceol on one side, and Percy on the other.”
“Do you ride, Wylan?”
“Oh I- I-”
“Yes, he does,” Jesper answered. “But he’s not ridden in a while, and last time he did his father locked him in a broom cupboard for falling off. Also, who do you think he’d ride? Unless you’ve sedated one of them, I’m not letting it happen.”
“I could lunge one of them,” Wylan offered.
Both Jesper and Colm looked up at that. Wylan did actually miss being around horses. It was how he had met Jesper in fact, for a fundraising event for the equestrian team. Wylan had asked if Jesper knew anyone on the team, and Jesper had laughed before saying ‘darling, I’m the captain.’
Wylan had ridden with Yulia. A girl who his father had semi-approved off. Polo was a good sport to have your son in, and show jumping. Wylan had stayed in the yard for hours with Yulia to escape his father, listening to everything the girl told him about handling and breaking young sports horses.
“Well… well, you could lunge Percy?” Jesper suggested, looking at Colm. The elder smiled gently at Wylan, shaking his head.
“Tomorrow, I’ll give you a few to help with. But tonight, someone has to learn his actions have consequences. Where’s Kaz in this weather?”
“He’s finishing late. Has to terrorize some staff, then he’ll come up to see Timothy.”
Wylan spotted how Colm’s face shifted at the mention of Timothy. So did Jesper. The latter shifted, looking at his father. “What’s happened with Tim?”
“He got spooked the other day,” Colm said, sitting back and running his fingers through his hair again with a sigh. “Box rest for eight weeks. Hairline fracture on his hip bone.”
Jesper tsked softly, shaking his head. “Not bad though, could have been worse.”
“It’s that damned horse of yours, Jes. Fucking Rika.”
“Leave Rika out of it,” Jesper muttered.
“She charged at him, chased him the entire way round the lower fields. She’s feral.”
“But she’s sweet too.”
Colm rolled his eyes, “Christ, first your mam, now you with these
rescues
.”
“Who is your horse, sir?” Wylan asked. Colm grinned, getting out a picture again of a grey horse.
“That’s Midir,” he said gently. “My da, Fintan, bred Midir’s da. When Midir was born, he was given to me. We’ve done a lot together. Retired him now.”
“He looks impressive.”
“One of the best bloodlines in the whole of Kildare. A true hunts horse. Not some retired thoroughbred like Rika .”
“Would you stop about Rika?” Jesper hissed, but there was no cruelty to either word. The matter of Rika had clearly been discussed several times before. Wylan could tell because Jesper’s body language was continually open and calm.
Sometimes, Wylan forgot how Irish his boyfriend was. And more so, how Irish his father was. He wondered how Colm had met Aditi.
Had it been like Jesper and Wylan? Drunkenly at a fundraiser on a university campus?
She was in the photos as well, one a striking blood-red horse with a white splash on his face.
“That’s her,” Colm said softly, nodding to the photo that Wylan’s vision had landed on. Aditi sat on the horse, head thrown back in laughter as Colm stood at the horse's shoulder.
“She’s beautiful,” Wylan smiled.
“Oh that she was,” Colm chuckled. “Ah, cuisle mo chroidhe .”
Jesper had gone quiet, looking at the table. Wylan glanced at him, and could see the swell of emotions. Jesper was not like Kaz, he couldn’t keep his face blank when he felt something. He couldn’t keep his gaze distant and Wylan loved him for it.
“It was Balor’s fault,” Jesper gritted out.
Colm looked to Jesper now, his gaze shifting. “Jes…”
“You told her not to ride for the MacNamara’s. You warned her about that horse. But she did it,” he said, standing up and looking at his jeans. “I’ll get changed then I’ll take them out.”
“
A leanbh
,” Colm called, but Jesper was already away. Wylan sat there, the tea had gone cold now. He was just holding a cold cup. Colm shifted slightly, grabbing his tweed cap.
“He’s a good lad, our Jesper. I just don’t think he knows his heart yet.”
Wylan tilted his head curiously at the words. Colm looked at Wylan, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’re good for him, Wylan. You call him home when he forgets himself.”
“I try, Mr. Fahey.”
~
Wylan found Jesper perched on the back of a Connemara pony and god if Wylan thought Jesper was tall before. His toes were just above the pony’s knees, but Jesper had gotten the horse on an outline.
They had a simple arena with floodlights, and Wylan hadn’t realised how many horses the Fahey’s owned. He knew of Jesper’s personal horses. But actually seeing Cherry Ridge Farms was something else. There were three sheds with fifteen stalls in each, then a tin shed at the bottom of the yard where Jesper’s horses lived.
Wylan couldn’t even count how many fields there were. How they rolled on for miles with sand tracks crisscrossing them. It was Colm’s business. He bred and trained horses and exported them.
That had been Jesper’s life too. One night when they were hidden between the sheets with the rain pelting down, Jesper had told Wylan all the places he had seen to compete on horses. From Ireland to Sweden, France to Germany. He talked about them all. He had been ready to make a career of it too, he was the youngest captain of the Irish Junior Show Jumping team. He had broken records in speed rounds.
Then Aditi died. She had ridden a horse that threw her. Apparently, it had been painless, but the minute she died Jesper was ready to sell every horse he owned.
Until Rika arrived at his door, he couldn’t send away his crazy Rika. Jesper had talked affectionately about how the racehorse kicked and reared, how no one was able to ride her.
Jesper adored her. He didn’t love the horses the way he had done so before Aditi’s death, but he was gently falling back in love with them.
Wylan was delighted to be a part of it. He perched himself on a seat next to the arena, watching as Jesper cantered circles over poles.
“So he’s back then?”
Wylan spun around, looking at the man who had stepped out of the shadows. Something in the back of his mind registered that it was Kuwei, one of the head lads for Colm.
“He’s back.”
“As are you,” Kuwei hummed, then watched Jesper ride the pony. “Well. I certainly hope he’s not planning to make Percy his ride of the season. He’s a bit tall.”
“Colm wanted him to ride.”
“Of course he did,” Kuwei mused, then tilting his head at Wylan. “I didn’t expect to see you back. I thought you’d chicken out, run back to daddy.”
“Daddy doesn’t want me anymore, so here I am,” Wylan answered. God, he forgot how trying Kuwei was.
“What exciting things have you got planned then? Now he’s home, I suppose I can go back to Ireland.”
“I really doubt Colm wants his head-lad to just up and leave.”
Kuwei grinned, bopping Wylan’s nose. “We’ll see about that, little Wylan. I heard Colm wants you riding Bucky tomorrow.”
“B-Bucky?” Perhaps the name was just a tease. Just a jest.
“Oh yes. Big bad Bucky. If you’re to date Jesper, I suppose it’s only fair you prove yourself. Chat soon now, ducky.” Kuwei blew a kiss, grabbed his bag and walked off.
Wylan was left in silence, his skin crawling.
Perhaps this summer wasn’t going to be good at all.