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Kaz looks up when Jesper enters his office and for a moment Jesper could swear that Kaz looks nervous.
Kaz sent word that he needed to see Jesper, earlier than he would usually ask. Kaz likes to start early (early for the Barrell) so he can get the books done while things are quiet. Jesper does not, generally speaking, get dressed before lunch. But Kaz rarely requests meetings in the mornings so it must be important. Something he wants to discuss during these hours when they're unlikely to be disturbed.
“Sit.” Kaz gestures to the armchair on the other side of the desk. He closes the heavy ledger he’s been looking at, places it to one side. He starts stacking the papers on the desk into piles, carefully arranging the teetering heaps until there’s a clear strip of wood between the two of them. He's silent as he does this and it's unnerving. A job would usually involve the opposite, spreading papers on the table as the plan unfurled. Also Inej would be here, which she noticeably isn't. It is the most Jesper has ever seen of Kaz’s desk. Without its layer of important paperwork, maps, invoices and scribbled notes, it looks much more like a door on some boxes.
“What are we doing?” Jesper says, looking at the clear section of wood.
“We’re trying something.”
“Something fun?”
Kaz takes off a glove. Expertly he tugs at each of the fingers and then slips the leather free. He lays the glove on the desk. From his pocket he produces a watch and lies that between them too. He still hasn’t met Jesper’s eyes.
“Sit down Jesper.”
Jesper does.
Kaz puts his ungloved hand on the table, palm facing up, fingers loose. He's shaking, just the tiniest bit.
"I want you to take my hand," Kaz says.
"Kaz, I'm flattered but you know you're not my type."
"Everyone's your type Jesper."
Jesper is unnerved enough that for a moment he wonders genuinely if Kaz is flirting with him.
"You want me to hold your hand?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Does it matter?"
"It matters if it's a sex thing."
"Saints Jesper, why would it be a sex thing."
They look at each other.
"It's an experiment," Kaz says quietly.
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure it's not a sex thing."
"You're sure you want me to?"
Kaz looks down at his own hand, flexes the fingers softly.
"I'm sure."
Jesper looks again at Kaz's hand. And then he lifts his own and gently lowers it, until their palms barely touch. Kaz flinches, hard. His other hand, still gloved, is visibly shaking as he reaches out and presses the knob at the top of the watch, starting the stopwatch hands gently ticking. Kaz's face is pale. He closes his eyes, frowning like he's in pain. Jesper's hand hovers over his. His wrist begins to ache with the effort of not relaxing his hand completely onto Kaz's.
They sit this way for long seconds, the slow tick of the watch marking every one. After a minute (exactly) Kaz snatches his hand away, as though it has been burned. He closes his eyes and shakes the hand, to dispel any lingering flames. Jesper puts his own hands on his knees, rubbing them against the rough fabric.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jesper asks.
“No,” Kaz replies, his eyes still closed. “Never.”
After a long moment, Kaz reaches down and pulls his glove back on.
"But you think it might work?" Jesper asks.
"I don't know," Kaz replies, tugging the gloves tighter against his fingers. "Maybe."
"With practice," Jesper looks at his friend, sees for a moment the boy he is. Then Kaz grabs the ledger from its stack and flips it open.
“I’ve got work to do,” Kaz says.
“Course you do,” Jesper says standing.
“Same time tomorrow?” Kaz asks, meeting Jesper's eyes.
"Sure thing boss."
The next day, Jesper is more prepared for their meeting. He's thought about nothing else since. It kept him awake, staring at the ceiling of his room until he angrily got up and stormed into the night to lose some coin at a table about it.
It would infuriate Jesper to know that Kaz hasn't spared it a moment's thought. He's suppressed any reflection on this thing he's decided to do. When Jesper opens the door, it all floods into Kaz's brain unbidden. He wants to flee but tries not to let it show on his face.
Jesper doesn't speak, just sits down. Kaz begins to clear the space on the desk, easier today because it's still fairly clear from the day before. Jesper helps. They still don't talk.
Kaz pulls the watch from his pocket and places it between them. Jesper turns the watch so they can both see it and Kaz doesn't protest. He carefully removes his glove, puts his arm on the table, palm up.
"Ready?" Jesper asks quietly. Kaz nods.
Today Jesper touches him properly. He curls his fingers around Kaz's wrist, holding firm. It's the grip you'd use to hoist someone up. That second day, Kaz's arm lies limp, twitching gently. But on the fourth day, with effort, he takes hold of Jesper's wrist in return. At night Jesper imagines hoisting Kaz onto a rooftop. He would hold out his hand and Kaz would take it, palm to wrist, gripped tightly. And Jesper would pull him up and over the ledge.
In Kaz's office they rarely speak. Jesper is never late and every day Kaz seems surprised to see him. Slowly Kaz grips tighter, lets go more slowly.
At the end of the second week, Jesper sits down and says: "Both hands."
"What?" There is a flash of anger across Kaz's face.
"You can do one hand now," Jesper says matter of factly, "We should do two."
They stare each other down. But eventually Kaz removes the second glove.
It's been almost two months of these meetings, the strict routine of it. When Jesper opens the door, Kaz is already pulling at the finger of his glove. He stops when he sees Wylan.
“What can I do for you both?” Kaz asks, all business.
“Wylan’s helping.” Jesper replies, pulling a crate from one corner of the room. Jesper sits in the chair and after a moment Wylan perches on the crate, looking confused.
“Helping with what?” Kaz asks, sweat beading on his upper lip.
“I haven’t told him anything yet,” Jesper says, meeting Kaz’s eyes.
“He hasn’t.” Wylan agrees, twirling his fingers in his lap.
"I don't need his help," Kaz says sharply.
“Kaz,” Jesper says. “This doesn’t work if the only person you can touch is me.”
Wylan’s eyes flick to Jesper and for a moment he frowns. Every morning Jesper has woken up strangely early and gone to see Kaz. When Wylan asked, he'd simply said they were working on something. It bothers him a little that Jesper will so easily change his routine for Kaz. Sometimes Wylan doesn’t even wake when Jesper sneaks out to make these meetings. He hates waking up alone.
Jesper and Kaz are still glaring at each other with an intensity that makes Wylan feel like he’s not in the room. That bothers him too. The way they communicate without saying anything. It’s usually an argument.
“If he tells anyone…” Kaz says.
“I won’t!” Wylan starts, grateful to be part of the conversation again.
“Saints,” Kaz says, closing his eyes. “I regret every moment that led to this one.”
Jesper grins, triumphant.
Reluctantly, Kaz takes off his gloves, lies both hands on the table. Wylan blinks, looks to Jesper. But Jesper is still looking at Kaz.
"What are we doing?" Wylan asks.
"We're holding hands," Jesper says cheerfully, as he grips onto Kaz's wrist across the table. Wylan frowns again, looks to Kaz. Kaz nods, through his mouth is a hard line. He holds out his hand to Wylan, who finally takes it. The Crows have asked him to do stranger things than this.
Wylan holds hands like a child. All four fingers clumped together like he's wearing mittens, his grip gentle. Kaz flinches, resists the urge to pull away. He holds onto Jesper and gently folds his fingers around Wylan's hand. It's a lot to do at once. Kaz hates it.
Jesper reaches over and takes Wylan's other hand. He squeezes gently. Wylan looks at him surprised. The three of them now sit in a triangle, their hands linked. A circuit.
"Why are you two holding hands?" Kaz asks through his teeth.
"Normal reasons," Jesper says. "Because I like holding Wylan's hand."
"You don't usually hold my hand," Wylan says quietly.
"Maybe I should," Jesper says.
Kaz rolls his eyes, despite himself.
"This isn't about holding hands with people."
"Sure it's not," Jesper says, squeezing Wylan's hand again. Then ever so slightly he squeezes Kaz’s. He feels a pang, thinking about how much he wants this for Kaz. How much it is costing Kaz to do this. What it must mean. Since they started their secret meetings, dangerous thoughts have crept into Jesper's head. In another life the Crows would just be kids. Teasing and gossiping and fighting about things that didn't matter. Messily falling in love. Sometimes, in this office, that version of them feels possible. Sometimes when it is just him and Kaz, it's almost real. That's part of why he wanted Wylan here, so that possibility could touch him. So he can see Wylan in that light. This isn't about holding hands. But maybe it is.
The minute ends and Kaz pulls his hands away. Jesper lets go of Wylan. The three of them sit in silence, three separate points instead of a line.
"Is Wylan coming tomorrow?" Kaz asks, sounding tired.
"We'll see," Jesper says standing up. "Might make it a surprise."
"I hate surprises," Kaz mutteres.
"Exactly."
When they leave the office, Jesper takes Wylan's hand and holds it all the way down the stairs.
“No.” Kaz says, as soon as Jesper opens the door.
“Yes,” Jesper says, ignoring him and collapsing into the chair. Behind him Nina leans against the doorway, amused.
“Nina is not helping,” Kaz says glaring at Jesper.
"Nina hasn't agreed to help,” Nina says, cocking an eyebrow, as she follows Jesper into the room.
“Nina is helping,” Jesper replies, firmly holding Kaz’s glare.
“Nina gets a say in what she does,” Nina says, completely unphased. She kicks Jesper in the shins. “Also Nina gets the chair.”
“Nina,” Jesper says, reluctantly standing up to give over the chair, “is closer.”
Jesper settles himself onto the crate, his legs crossed. He knew that Kaz would take some convincing on this one.
“Closer?” Kaz says, his voice rising dangerously.
“Closer to the goal,” Jesper replies.
“There is not a goal,” Kaz throws his head back, glaring instead at the ceiling.
“Sure,” Jesper replies. He sits on the crate and lays his hand on the clear stretch of table. “There’s no goal and we’re not getting closer to it. Nina, if you could please put your hand out.”
Nina frowns, the joke dropping from her face. She looks at Jesper and then at Kaz, who still refuses to meet her eye.
“I need all my fingers,” she says, laying her hand on the table beside Jesper. “Just for the record.”
“It’s not closer,” Kaz says through his teeth, “just because Nina is a girl,”
“So there is a goal?” Jesper says, leaning forward.
“No,” Kaz spits. But he takes Jesper's hand. And after a moment he brushes his other hand against Nina’s.
"Are we having a seance?" Nina asks.
"It's an experiment," Jesper says.
"Just do it Nina," Kaz says.
"No one has asked me to do anything yet."
Kaz sighs loudly.
"Nina," he says. "Would you mind taking my hand?"
She laughs, a quick quiet sound. Then she reaches out and takes his hand, she holds it like they're saying prayers before a meal.
"Is this really what you do in these secret meetings?" Nina asks.
"Yes," Jesper says at the same time Kaz says "no". Nina looks at Kaz's closed eyes and the tension on his face.
"I saw a Grisha do something similar once," she says. "He had spiders in jars and a Heartrender would slow his heart while he held the jars. At the beginning he couldn't enter a room with cobwebs. Eventually he was able to catch spiders in the jars himself."
Neither Jesper nor Kaz says anything.
"It's a good idea," Nina says settling into silence.
Afterwards, as they're heading back down the stairs, Nina turns to Jesper.
"Inej doesn't know?" she asks.
"No," Jesper frowns, a little guilty. "He's not ready for that yet."
"But you think he will be?"
"He's doing better."
"Inej is different," Nina says.
Jesper nods. It stings a little to admit. It’s not that he wants what Kaz and Inej have (whatever that is). He’s not jealous exactly. But he wishes sometimes that his hand wasn’t the easiest one for Kaz to hold. He knows what it means that Kaz asked him first. And yet… and yet. He vows to throw himself at Wylan as soon as he’s home, push all this from his mind. Nina reaches over and takes Jesper's hand, swinging it between them for a moment before letting go.
"You can't tell her," Jesper says. Nina shakes her head.
"I can't tell anyone," she laughs. "Kaz would cut off my fingers."
Most days, Jesper still goes to the meetings alone. But sometimes, if Wylan is awake, Jesper will bring him too. Or Jesper will find Nina waiting at the bar downstairs, raising her eyebrow in a question. Some days Kaz is worse and his hand is limp and unresponsive. Sometimes he swears when their skin makes contact, but that still feels like progress over the silence. Mostly it gets easier and they stay longer, holding it longer. They never speak of it beyond Kaz's office.
One morning, early in the fourth month, Kaz and Jesper are sitting together, when the door to Kaz's office slams open. Kaz and Jesper leap apart, both on their feet and ready to fight in an instant. Jesper lowers his guns when he sees that it’s Matthias. Matthias is glowering. It seems almost like he’s trying to look bigger, his bulk filling the doorway.
“Matthias, that’s a fantastic way to get shot,” Jesper says, holstering his guns. Kaz hasn’t relaxed yet. He’s still standing, flexing his bare hands self-consciously.
“I want to be included in the plan.” Matthias says.
“What plan?” Kaz asks, still not sitting down.
“Whatever you’ve been planning in these secret meetings."
Jesper laughs.
"Matthias sit down," Jesper says, gesturing to the crate which is now a permanent fixture near the desk. Kaz throws his arms in the air.
"We might as well invite the whole of Ketterdem up here!" he shouts.
"I am not the whole of Ketterdem," Matthias says, settling onto the small crate with difficulty. Kaz turns away from them and looks out the window.
"Everyone else knows about the plan," Matthias grumbles. "They are all invited to your secret meetings."
"Inej isn't," Jesper says without thinking. He sees Kaz tense, his shoulders drawing up.
"Well that's an oversight," Matthias says. "You'll need her for the plan."
"There is no plan!" Kaz spins around and slams his hands down on the table. "Matthias, you have no right to come in here making demands."
"You don't trust me," Matthias squares his shoulders. "Am I not a part of this crew?"
“He’s got a point, Kaz,” Jesper says smiling.
Kaz puts a hand to his brow, sighs. This whole thing is out of control. Kaz is grateful for his crew. But he also hates them, hates their closeness. Matthias is not leaving, will not take no for an answer. Kaz wonders when he became so weak. He holds out his hand.
Without pause Matthias reaches over and shakes it briskly, lets go. Kaz stares at his hand. Jesper cackles.
“You’re not wearing gloves,” Matthias says.
“No,” Kaz replies, frowning. “That’s rather the point.”
“Kaz is practising,” Jesper says, cautiously shooting a look at Kaz, “doing things without his gloves.”
Matthias nods.
“That’s it,” Jesper says. “That’s the whole plan.”
Matthias reaches over again and roughly takes Kaz’s hand. He shakes it with both hands this time, gripping Kaz’s one palm between his two. When he lets go, Kaz flicks his hand, as if to dispel something stuck to it.
“Saints,” Kaz mutters angrily.
“This is a good thing to do,” Matthias says, standing up. “Your gloves are a weakness. Tell me if I can assist further.”
And with that Matthias leaves, stomping off down the stairs. Jesper laughs again, unable to stop.
“Shut up Jesper,” Kaz mutters. “This isn’t a joke.”
But he’s not angry and Jesper keeps laughing until Kaz reaches over and slaps him across the wrist with his ungloved hand. The gesture fills Jesper with such joy that he’s lost to giggles again and eventually Kaz has to kick him out of his office.
The day Jesper finally invites Inej to a meeting is almost six months since it began. It has been raining for a week. They have dinner together at a quiet table. Not by design, it had just happened that way, the others all off doing things. It’s nice when it’s just the two of them. Jesper asks her before he really has time to think it through. He still can’t quite imagine what Inej will do when she gets to Kaz’s office. What Kaz will do for that matter.
“You want me to come to one of your secret meetings?” she asks.
“Why does everyone know about the secret meetings?” Jesper laughs but he’s nervous.
“I thought maybe you were planning my birthday part,” Inej says smiling.
“Do you want a birthday party?” Jesper asks.
She raises an eyebrow again, shaking her head. He wonders if Kaz knows when her birthday is, makes a note to ask. They never have birthday parties. Maybe they should.
The next morning the two of them climb the stairs, the driving rain loud outside. Standing outside the door, Jesper turns to Inej and whispers “be patient with him”.
“I always am,” she says and opens the door.
Kaz stands up, hands at his side. His eyes widen a little when he sees them both in the doorway.
“Inej,” he says. “Jesper.”
“We can go,” Jesper says. “If you want.”
Kaz pauses but shakes his head.
“No,” he says, his heart beating quickly. “No, come in.”
They do, but none of them sit down.
“We’ve been working on something,” Jesper says to Inej. “Kaz wanted to show you.”
Kaz doesn’t say anything, he’s still standing stiffly behind his desk.
“Right,” Jesper says. “I’m going to leave you to it.”
Kaz nods. He looks up at Jesper. Jesper nods back, barely moving his head. Then he turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.
Inej and Kaz stand in silence, Inej looking at him steadily, Kaz looking at the closed door where Jesper was.
“Kaz,” Inej says, letting a little of her nerves creep into her voice. “What in heavens is this about?”
Kaz walks around his desk then, so they are both on the same side of the room.They’re still feet apart but there’s nothing between them now except the damp air. He looks up at her, holds her eyes for a long time, breathing with intentional slowness. Inej is terrified. Nothing good can make Kaz this nervous. Then he looks down and slowly takes off his gloves, puts them on the desk behind him. Her breath catches for a second. She steps closer. Time is moving awfully slow.
He holds his bare hands in front of him, palms up, like a prayer.
“Kaz?” she says, a question.
“You can,” he replies. “I can.”
Inej puts her own hands out and slides them beneath his, cupping them from below. She holds them like a precious object, like something that might break. They’re still standing apart from each other, looking down at the hands between them. They stay like that for long seconds. Their hearts are beating so loud you can almost hear them over the rain.
Inej runs her fingers along the crease at the base of each thumb. He doesn’t flinch. There is a tremor in his hands but it is slight. He’s still breathing, in and out. In and out.
“You did this for me?” she asks quietly.
“I did it for me,” he replies, sharp.
She nods.
“And maybe,” Kaz says quietly, conceding. “Maybe a little for you.”
She turns his hands over, examining them. She’s seen them before, many times. But never close enough to see the scar on the back of his right knuckle; the carefully trimmed moon of his fingernails. Kaz Brekker should, by rights, have rough hands. They should be dirty. In reality, they are soft and flawlessly clean. She worries for a moment that her own hands are too rough against his skin, calloused as they are from climbing.
“What does this mean Kaz?” she asks. He frowns. They are silent for a long time as she turns his hands in hers. She takes in every detail, in case this is her only chance.
“It means I’m trying,” he replies eventually.
She smiles then, looks up to find him already looking at her. With just the slightest quirk of his mouth, he smiles too.
Jesper waits as long as he can bear before he goes to check on Kaz. Jesper doesn’t know what he will do if it went badly. Maybe it was too soon. He should have asked Kaz first but he knew Kaz would never say yes. It could be years before he did it on his own. A tiny part of Jesper hopes that they will talk about it, that his friend will tell him about the girl.
He takes the steps two at a time and finds the office door ajar, so pushes it open.
Kaz sits at his desk, heavy ledger open in front of him. Inej sits across from him, curled in the chair with a map spread on her lap. They speak in low voices, sharp sentences flung into the silence as they formulate a plan. They are often like this in the early stages of concocting some grand scheme. It is familiar, save one detail; like a puzzle where you have to spot the things that have been changed. Today their arms lie on the table, stretched across the wood between them. Among all the papers and maps and stolen knowledge, their fingers are laced gently together.
Kaz looks up, sees Jesper leaning against the doorway. He doesn’t move his hand and neither does Inej.
“Jesper come in,” Kaz says. “We’ve got work to do.”