Work Text:
Kaz's eyes fixate on your lips. Cursed pudding. He knows they're tasty—and so they're your favourite—but every time you scoop some into your mouth and close your eyes to savour the taste, an image of you spread before him starts swarming his mind.
His gaze moves towards your neck when you swallow, the sudden urge to attack your soft skin with his lips drowning his other thoughts—thoughts that should've been more important than this. It took him years to learn how to be okay with skin to skin contact again, and now that he can tolerate it, the more primal of human urges fizzes within him,threatening to bubble out onto the surface.
You hum in bliss, not realising there was a trace of pudding right at the corner of your mouth. Kaz's head starts spinning at the idea of swiping it off with his tongue, tasting you, tasting that goddamn pudding off your mouth.
Ghezen, he mumbled, gloved hand flexing over a shot glass full of whiskey, his third one for the night. He's not sure if he's using alcohol to distract himself—or give him the willpower to sweep you off your feet and make you pay for the endless nights (and days) of frustration you've unknowingly caused him.
He doesn't know how long he stared at you until your eyes met his. When they did, you were smiling shyly at him. He looked away quickly and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Kaz, you want some?" You offered it to him, that sweet tone in your voice making his heart flutter and dick twitch. He studies your face, confused—because normally, you're not one to share. It doesn’t matter anyway, there’s something else way sweeter he’d rather taste than chocolate pudding.
"No, I don't want to deprive you—and you have some over there," he points out, not missing the deflate in your tone when he refused your offer.
"Oh—oops," you swipe your lips with your middle finger and proceed to suck the pudding right off it. Kaz lets out a hiss. It almost seems like you were stirring him on purpose, but he's pretty sure you're just that oblivious. Your tongue chases the chocolate smearing your finger, and suddenly he's thinking of you on your knees, lips swollen and wrapped around him, tears running down your cheeks as you choke on his aching cock.
His left hand grips his cane tighter, looking for relief in other ways except that . He's the Bastard of the Barrel. He can survive this night without giving into the myriad of ideas he had involving you under him.
"One more shot, Jesper," perhaps saturating himself with more whiskey will help ease the longing,unfortunately it's not working as well as he wants it to.
Jesper studied how Kaz acts around you tonight. And many other nights before this. He gossips about it with Inej sometimes, too. They've noticed how Kaz's eyes will wander all over you when he thinks nobody's watching. "Here you go," he slides the glass to Kaz, trying his best to talk about the plans of the upcoming job that involve some jewels worth hundreds of thousands of kruge.
Alas, they might need to discuss this another time, some day where Kaz is not distracted by the sight of a pretty lady shovelling pudding into her mouth. Jesper doesn't blame him, you're very attractive—hell, he'd make a move if he didn't know Kaz secretly wants you. He also didn't blame you, because he's the one who introduced you to the place that sells that pudding, and he knows just how good it is for you to be eating it that sensually.
"Tomorrow, then," he tells Kaz—or tries to. He's pretty sure Kaz wasn't even paying attention to anything else that had happened the past half an hour. Somebody can literally be cheating in on his Three Man Bramble table right then and he won’t even notice.
An hour has passed and it's getting late. You stood up to say your goodnights before heading back into your room in the Slat. You were an unexpected addition to the Dregs, recruited because you have fast fingers and light on your feet. That’s just a nicer way to say you were the only one who managed to pickpocket Kaz. Inej thinks she can train you to do what she does ,going into hard to reach places and stealing the secrets of important—and mostly dangerous people. The fact that you can control air is a huge bonus too. They can get away with taking bigger and heavier antiques using your abilities.'Business' is booming with you as their new addition.
You bat your eyelashes at the boys—your light and flirty ways of interacting a breath of fresh air among the Dregs. "See you guys tomorrow," casting one last look at Kaz, a last ditch effort at casting your lure. You had an inkling that Kaz might have the hots for you, but maybe you were just projecting. Oh, well. Perhaps you misinterpreted the way he looks at you, but after waiting for months for him to make the first move, maybe you should've just taken the hint. Rejection sucks, but you'll survive. Guess it'll be you, your hands, and your overactive imagination again tonight.
Kaz lets out a sigh of relief as he watches your figure disappear into the night. He stretches his hands, surprised to find out how tense he had been.
"We'll talk about this tomorrow, Jesper. I'm a bit wound up at the moment." Jesper snorts.
Raising an eyebrow, Kaz asks, "What's so funny?"
"Really?" Jesper retorts, "How long are you gonna spend pining over her?"
"I'm not pining. Over anyone. Now pour me another shot. And no further talk about this unless you want to sleep on the streets tonight."
Jesper raises his hands in defeat, choosing not to press further. The prospect of not having a warm bed to sleep in does not sound good to him. He pours Kaz's drink and slides it to him. Maybe sleeping on the street for one night is worth it if it means his boss will finally find someone. At the very least , he was hoping that getting his boss laid will mellow him a little.
"You know," Jesper starts collecting all the empty glasses on the bar while Kaz tries to down his shot , "She's always joking around me and Inej that she'd sit on your face if you'd asked her to..."
Kaz choked on his whiskey, his eyes glistening from the burn in his throat. "But of course, that might just be her delightful sense of humour," Jesper added, trying his best not to let out a chuckle and risk getting even more in trouble.
Jesper never missed the telltale signs of longing in your voice when Kaz's name was brought up, but he advises that this was not something wise to pursue—because everyone in the barrel knows just how dangerous of a man Kaz is. Trying to make a living in Ketterdam is dangerous. Trying to make a living in the Barrel—under Dirtyhands himself—makes life and death seem like a game of poker. You never know what hands you’d be dealt with each day.
You're stubborn, though. It's what your parents kept telling you ever since you're a kid. So, despite his reputation, you can’t help yourself from harbouring some sort of feelings for him. Initially, Jesper believed that you were into him more than he was into you. Well, after tonight, he’s not so sure of that anymore. It seems like the tension was mutual on both sides.
"Jesper," Kaz warned. A dark edge to his tone, as he started visualising the scenario Jesper had put in his mind. A tent was forming in his pants. He'll need an ice-cold shower if he wants to be able to sleep tonight.
"Hey, it's not my fault you two looked at each other like that."
"Like what?"
"You know, like that—" his eyes roam the room looking for the right words, "like nothing else in the room exists except for you two."
Kaz scoffs, the choice of words Jesper had chosen a little too out of place with his way of life. It sounds too ...romantic. Kaz doesn't do romance.
Shrugging at the scornful look on Kaz's face, Jesper continues, "and Inej told me—not to tell you of course—that the feeling is mutual, so I don't see why you have to keep all this," he gestures, "contained."
Kaz glares at Jesper, patience running thin. Why his sharpshooter had bothered telling him this, he had no idea. If it's true, though, then maybe… No. He can’t allow himself to think about it. If his thoughts start roaming again, sooner or later he’ll find himself outside your room and it’ll be too late before he realises the mistake he’d made. Any kind of connection with him makes you a liability—and the idea of someone using you to get to him is enough to make him want to send you far away from Ketterdam. But five shots of whiskey are enough to skew even the most sturdy of decisions.
Before he has the time to process, he stands off his seat at the bar and makes his way into the Slat. He breezes through the flight of stairs leading to your room, and just as he was about to knock—he heard you.
“Kaz,please,” you moaned—voice muffled,but it was unmistakable. You were moaning his name and the tightness in his pants prompts him to adjust himself. The whole ordeal sobered him up.
“What am I doing? ” he scolds himself, rushing away from your doors into his room.
He wanted so much to stay and listen to you, to join in when he couldn’t take it anymore, but he can’t. There’s too much at stake.
Kaz spends the night stroking himself, seeking for any kind of relief. Even as he lays there, empty, he still can’t get the thought of you, writhing on your bed, out of his head. After tossing and turning—and making himself come once again—he finally manages to fall into a restless slumber.