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The weeks following Jesper’s impromptu gesture had been a sweet sort of bliss. Wylan’s words echoed in his head the days after. I’ll move in with you. Move in. It felt surreal to Jesper. It was a big step, one that he hadn’t been quite sure he was ready for. It had been his impulsive nature that had acted before he could react. Plus there was that sticky neverending doubt that crept up on him at the worst times. The unnerving need to protect himself from inevitable rejection.
But Wylan hadn’t rejected him. Not at all. That is the kindest thing that anyone’s ever done for me.
There was no way in hell he could regret a decision like this if it made Wylan feel like that.
Wylan had been an enthusiastic sort of happy. The kind of happy that was sparingly seen on Wylan. The kind of happy Jesper wanted nothing more than to shower him with every day for the rest of their lives.
Saints, he’s getting ahead of himself.
For now, Jesper resolved to help Wylan move a few of his things from the warehouse. Not everything. They’d both agreed that the transition should be slow and natural. Wylan seemed to understand the way Jesper’s restlessness portrayed an underlying fear. He’d agreed that they would move at a pace that was comfortable for both of them.
So, a few weeks after Jesper handed Wylan that shoddy key—which Wylan adamantly refused to trade out for a professionally made one—they finally found time to pack a few of Wylan’s belongings that weren’t clothes.
The warehouse candles were finally dimming. Jesper knew Wylan only lit them once every few weeks or so. He’d asked about it once, about how they stayed shining for so long. Wylan had responded with a word vomit of chemical nonsense Jesper didn’t really understand. He just remembered staring at Wylan’s lips as he spoke, overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him. (He had. It was great.)
Wylan went straight for his chemicals, mumbling to himself about the best way to store them if he wasn’t going to be hanging around there as much. He’d been allowed to keep the workshop as his workspace, courtesy of Kaz who refused to have the Slat crumble to ash (again), on account of an experiment gone wrong.
Wylan was around the chemicals often enough to ensure that nothing spilled or spontaneously combusted. But to leave them there alone, when anyone could just walk in (which Jesper deemed a problem, one he was glad was being fixed with Wylan not sleeping here anymore) was a potentially hazardous situation.
Jesper wandered around the room, looking for things of Wylan’s to grab and take with them. That’s when he spotted a loose music sheet under Wylan’s bed. Deciding that Wylan would appreciate him grabbing it, he bent down to pick it up.
But when he crouched down, he noticed something else shoved under Wylan’s mattress. Curious, he lifted the mattress and grabbed a stack of papers. Upon further inspection, he realized they were letters.
Jan Van Eck. That was the sender of every single one of these letters. And they were bountiful.
Why did that name sound familiar? He looked closer at the seal coated over the opening, the letters having never been opened. Van Eck. Van Eck. Van Eck.
Van Eck! Jan Van Eck was a councilman, a member of the Merchant Council.
Why was he sending letters to Wylan? And why had he hidden them away, shameful and unopened?
Without thinking about it, Jesper tore one of them open, his eyes scanning over the words written on the page.
If you’re reading this, then you know how much I wish to have you home.
Home? Wylan told him that nowhere had ever felt like home. Had he been lying? He’s clearly got connections to some very powerful people. Was he just using Jesper for information on Kaz?
Jesper could feel his head spinning with every doubt, every rejection, and every negative thought fighting its way to the forefront of his misery. Had he been played for a fool? After everything he’d confided in Wylan, after every painful truth Wylan showed him he should embrace, he himself was hiding?
He’d been so stuck in his spiral that he hadn’t noticed right away, Wylan staring at him with a guarded expression. His eyes wary of Jesper’s discovery.
Jesper regarded him for a moment, unable to hide the betrayal and pain on his own features. Wylan stood closer to him now, his shoulders raised and tense, his hands curled into unsteady fists. His jaw was clenched and his eyes focused solely on the letters in Jesper’s hand.
“What is this?” Jesper asked with a shaky breath.
“What do they say?” Wylan asked suddenly, his voice quiet but desperate.
An understanding hit Jesper harder than it should have. Wylan never opened the letters because he couldn’t read them. But did Jan Van Eck know that? Why had he been sending letters in the first place?
“If you’re reading this, then you know how much I wish to have you home,” Jesper recited from memory.
Wylan’s face fell in resignation. “Oh.”
Jesper felt ugly for the anger he held.
“‘Oh?’ That’s all you have to say? Who is Jan Van Eck to you?” He snarled, and he hated himself for it.
Wylan looked down for a moment, contemplating his next words. “My father.”
Jan Van Eck was Wylan’s father? Wylan was a merch kid?
The way he’d spoken about Ketterdam, about home, made it sound like he’d grown up in the Barrel, though it did seem to explain his aversion to violence. And, well, Jesper couldn’t fault him for having any kind of animosity toward the Barrel.
But he would have grown up on the Geldstraat. Ketterdam had not been welcoming? Had not been kind? Wylan was born into one of the wealthiest families in Kerch, let alone in Ketterdam. He’d have grown up with pricey tutors and a warm bed, warm food, extravagant attire…
Jesper looked down at the letters again. Was there something he was missing?
If you’re reading this, then you know how much I wish to have you home.
If you’re reading this.
If.
Oh.
Jesper wasn’t exactly sure how to react. The anger had dissipated, but only a little. They hadn’t been together very long, but Jesper had an immense amount of trust for Wylan. Wylan had been the one to make Jesper want to be Grisha again. He’d made it so easy for Jesper to talk to him about it, for him to practice without the threat of danger.
The key had been spontaneous, but it had been authentic. He wanted to use his powers to make Wylan happy, and he had.
Why didn’t he trust Jesper? Why did he hide the letters under his mattress like a dirty little secret? Why did he keep them if he knew his father never intended for him to read them?
Why didn’t he tell the truth about who he was?
The silence must have been too much for Wylan to bear.
“Can you say something?! Please?” He begged.
Jesper grimaced. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I just,” he trailed off, “didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
“That’s lying.”
“No, no it’s not,” he stammered, “I ha—” Jesper cut him off.
“It is. You lied to me.”
Wylan’s face contorted into a snarl. “Oh, like you would have told me you were Grisha.” The sarcasm lacing his voice steadily dripped into his veins like a poison. “You can’t judge me for hiding when you do the same thing.”
“I already told you, you have no idea what being Grisha has cost me,” he said. Flashes of his mother’s smile echo.
Wylan let his tears fall freely down his cheeks. “And you have no idea what my secrets have cost me,” he whispered.
“Cost you? You accepted my offer to move in, which by the way I’m starting to regret, and you never once told me anything about your past. Your da’s a Councilman and you’re just slumming it in the Barrel.” Jesper could feel himself getting angrier, and every word he said was another shot to the heart.
He didn’t mean it, he didn’t. He wanted Wylan to stay with him, he never wanted to wake up without his darling curled up next to him. He wanted more than just parties, and fights, and meaningless one-night stands. He wanted Wylan. But up until a few minutes ago, Wylan Van Eck was Wylan Hendriks. He was someone else entirely.
Wylan flinched back at his words, his face stricken. He’d reach out his hand, hesitating before drawing it back into himself. He cradled his wrist close to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Jesper’s heart ached all over again at the tears welling up in his eyes before he wordlessly disappeared, leaving Jesper standing alone surrounded by chemicals he would never know how to handle.
***
“He’s been gone for four hours, Kaz.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem, Jes.”
When Jesper had returned to the Slat, he’d been expecting to find Wylan around somewhere. He’d even checked his room, a lingering hope that Wylan had just needed some space, and would have gone somewhere he felt safe. It hurt Jesper to know he hadn’t felt safe there anymore.
Jesper then assumed Wylan had gone out, perhaps to clear his head. But it had been four hours, and Wylan wasn’t one for exploring every corner of the Barrel.
“Check your room again. Maybe he left a note,” Kaz suggested. Kaz’s demeanour was tense, as it always was, but this time it felt different. Wylan hadn’t been with them long, but Jesper knew better than anyone how easy it was to care for him.
Jesper sighed and trudged off to his room. He knew Wylan wouldn’t have left a note, but he really wasn’t sure what else to do. In another hour he’d go after Wylan, try to find him in even the darkest of corners. But he didn’t want to scare him away for good.
He looked around the room…nothing. A few of Wylan’s shirts were scattered throughout, and the domesticity of the sight brought a smile to his lips, warm memories encompassing his entire being.
He’d been lost in his head; he hadn't noticed a jagged object placed intently in the middle of the bed, not until he’d lied down to rest his eyes for a moment. He’d felt it lightly jabbing into his back. Confused, he’d felt around for the object in question. Once he’d found it, well, he didn’t know a heart could break so thoroughly.
The key he’d gifted to Wylan sat on his bed, unused. Perhaps never to be used again.
No, Jesper thought, I am not losing him.
“Kaz!” Jesper raced down the stairs. “You have to help me find Wylan!”
Kaz stared at him. “Why?” He deadpanned.
“Remember that key I gave him? The one I made? He left it behind. Kaz, I think he may have left.” Jesper was rightfully panicking now. Wylan was more than capable of handling himself. Jesper knew that. He knew that. But that didn’t stop the rush of panic that flooded through him.
Kaz’s expression faltered, only for a second. “What exactly did you fight about?”
Jesper’s hands twitched, fidgeting with the rings adorning his fingers. The last thing he wanted was to betray Wylan’s trust. But Kaz had that gleam in his eyes that screamed that he might know what was going on, he just needed confirmation.
“His dad.” Was all Jesper said. It didn’t give too much away, but if Kaz knew something, that would be enough information.
“Shit,” he hissed. “Grab Nina. Meet me in my office in ten minutes.” And with that Kaz disappeared once again into the shadows.
Ten minutes later the three of them huddled in Kaz’s office, waiting for next steps.
“We need to find Wylan. Before someone else finds him first,” Kaz said.
“But he left of his own accord, no?” Nina said. “I’m not much into chasing people who don’t want to be found.”
“Your Fjerdan says otherwise,” Jesper snapped.
Nina sighed a small, “hmph,” before crossing her arms and turning her head away.
Kaz rolled his eyes at them. “Wylan has an unfortunate habit of playing hide and seek. But unfortunately for him, I know all his spots.”
Jesper crossed his arms. “He’s done this before?”
Kaz gave him a flat look. “He really didn’t want to work for me. I hate to admit that he’s an excellent hider. But I’m a better finder.” Jesper could hear the smugness in his voice. He also got the feeling that there was more to that story than Kaz let on.
“You mean Inej is an excellent finder,” Nina said. Jesper was inclined to agree.
Kaz glared at her but ignored the comment. “His spots were relatively consistent. We split up.”
Kaz laid out all the places in the Barrel Wylan would go to hide, and it was more than just a few places, some even outside Dregs territory. Just how often had Kaz needed to find him? How often did Wylan feel the need to hide?
They all agreed on who would check where. Nina left the room first, but Jesper stuck around just for a moment.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said.
Kaz looked annoyed (when did he not). “What?” He seethed.
Jesper just gave him a look he hoped said everything he needed to.
Kaz sighed, “Wylan…Wylan tends to hide when he’s vulnerable. I’ve had to convince him to stay in the Barrel more than a few times.”
Jesper furrowed his brows. “Why would you convince him to stay in the Barrel? I know who his father is, why doesn’t he just go home? He’d be safer there.”
To Jesper’s surprise, Kaz scoffed. “He’s safer at the bottom of the Barrel.”
“But—”
“Do you want to find him or not? Let’s get a move on.”
***
Wylan sat on the edge of a lonely pier; a part of the city that had been abandoned, just like all the other fools that found themselves in the Barrel.
The sky was overcast, a static grey. The wooden pier was damp from the passing rain, but Wylan couldn’t really care.
Not when fresh bruises, a swirl of yellows and purples sprinkled over his delicate skin. Not when a distinct laceration decorated his cheek. He could have avoided that one, though. Just had to keep his mouth shut for once.
“Wylan.”
Wylan didn’t need to look back to recognize the rasp in the newcomer's voice.
“Kaz.”
Kaz walked up to him slowly, his cane hitting the ground loudly as he went. He stood beside him, looking ahead at the harbourfront. Wylan stayed seated, legs dangling close to the water below, not quite ready to face whatever this was.
Wylan saw Kaz's expression when he examined the state of his face. If Wylan didn’t know any better he’d think Kaz was worried about him.
“This game of cat and mouse is getting old,” Kaz said.
“But it’s so fun,” Wylan deadpanned.
“Was it him?”
There were a lot of ways to answer this question. The easiest would be to misunderstand. Pretend Kaz was talking about his argument with Jesper, he could pretend he’d fallen on the way here. He could fake a lot of things; he had faked a lot of things.
But Kaz would get the truth out of him eventually.
“His men,” he’d responded instead.
“I told you to stop running,” Kaz gritted his teeth.
Wylan shrugged. “Habit.”
“Jesper’s worried. Annoyingly so.” Wylan could hear the slight admiration in Kaz’s tone.
“He’s mad at me.”
Kaz sighed in frustration. “He’s not mad. He’s confused. You running away like a child didn’t help.”
“I’m not a child,” he mumbled.
“Then act like it,” Kaz spat.
Wylan flinched, disgusted with himself for his actions; for being the thing his father had always told him he was.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he whispered.
Kaz didn’t say anything for a minute, and it put Wylan on edge.
“Stand up,” he said, eventually.
Wylan stood on shaky legs, coming face to face with Kaz. Kaz’s eyes roved over his figure, spotting every single impurity caused by his father’s men.
“They alive?”
Wylan smiled smugly. “Temporarily blinded, but alive.” He was also now several flash bombs short.
Kaz nodded.
“You’re under Dregs protection, my protection. Stop wandering outside our territory. He can’t touch you there.”
“I just—”
“No. Talk to Jesper.”
And with that he walked away, motioning for Wylan to follow behind him.
He did.
***
Jesper and Nina had exhausted their search for Wylan. They’d even asked around but nobody had seen him. They had no choice but to return to the Slat and wait for Kaz, who’d hopefully had better luck.
“What did you do?” Nina asked, biting down on a waffle.
Jesper threw his hands up in exasperation. “Why does everyone assume I did something?”
Nina gave him a pointed look.
“I said something I didn’t mean,” he admitted.
Nina just gave him a look like said see?
“I just-I don’t get it. He hid something from me, something big. And I don’t know why he lied, and I don’t know why he doesn’t trust me.” Jesper complained.
Nina smiled sadly. “Do you ever notice the way he flinches at loud noises or sudden movements?” Her voice was a melodic sort of quiet.
He did notice. He noticed everything about Wylan. He noticed the way he clutched onto the straps of his bag when he was nervous. He noticed the way he turned his head away when he was flattered or just to smile. He noticed the way his breath catches just before he’s about to let down a fraction of his defences. And yes, he noticed the way he flinches, though he wasn’t sure where Nina was going with this.
“I don’t get how that’s relevant.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Well, I can feel his heartbeat. Remember?”
Jesper shrugged his shoulders in confusion.
“Saints, okay,” she sighed, “His heartbeat spikes whenever someone yells. Or whenever someone gestures too large and too close. He’s scared, Jes. Very often.”
If Wylan was scared that often, then he was a better liar than Jesper thought. Such talents shouldn’t be used to hide from the people you love.
“But…why?”
Nina only returned a sad look. Jesper could read between the lines. He started plotting all the ways he could make Jan Van Eck suffer.
“Oh,” he whispered.
She smiled. “Go easy on him.”
He smiled in kind. “Thank you, Nina.”
He didn’t need to wait. Only a few seconds later Kaz Brekker and Wylan Van Eck waltzed through the front door of the Slat.
Kaz looked angry, and Wylan looked…
“Wylan!” Jesper jumped up and hurried over to Wylan.
His hands immediately flew up to cradle Wylan’s face. His thumb brushed over a particularly nasty gash across his cheek, which still had pools of blood seeping out. He examined his face, and it was an easy conclusion. Wylan had been in a fight.
He hadn’t hesitated to crush Wylan into a hug.
“Please don’t do that again,” his shaky breath whispered into Wylan’s ear.
Wylan pulled away, looking Jesper in the eyes with a vulnerability he’d never seen from him before.
“We should talk.”
***
They’d ended up in Jesper’s their room. Wylan closed the door behind them but refused to move, opting to lean against the door instead.
“What, what happened, Wylan? You look awful!”
Wylan winced.
“No, darling, no. That’s not what I meant.” Jesper rushed to Wylan, placing his hands over Wylan’s shoulders, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.
“No, it’s-it’s okay. I’m sure I look…messed up.” He kept his eyes purposefully glued to the floor.
Jesper shook his head frantically, his eyes flashing with concern. He held Wylan’s face in his hands again, and he indulged himself in letting his fingertips brush through his curls.
“No, sunshine, no. You’re handsome. So, so handsome. I just—I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he whispered.
“Jes, we live in the Barrel. It sort of comes with the territory,” he chuckled, but it fell flat.
Jesper caressed the slash on Wylan’s cheek. “This isn’t the Barrel roughing you up cause you looked like an easy target. This looks deliberate.”
“They said he wanted it to hurt. That the more damage they do the more they get paid,” he murmured.
“He?”
“My father.”
“Your father sent people after you?” Jesper could feel his own fury bubbling up inside him.
“Frequently.”
“Frequen—,” a chilling realization washed over him, “that’s why Kaz put you under Dregs protection.”
Wylan smiled, but it fell sideways. “That was the deal I made with him. I don’t like hurting people. I don’t like making things that hurt people, but I did what I had to to survive. I can handle common thugs, but my father…” Wylan trailed off and shuffled uncomfortably, his eyes flitting across the room and deliberately avoiding Jesper. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him.”
Jesper shook his head. “I’m sorry for what I said, Wy. I don’t regret having you move in with me. You’re,” he took a deep breath, “you’re the best thing to happen to me since moving to Ketterdam. Your father doesn’t deserve you, and you deserve to have a safe place to call home. You’re my home, Wylan, and if you’ll have me, I want to be yours, too.”
Jesper saw the tears welling up in Wylan’s eyes, and he could tell he was making a conscious effort to stop them. “You don’t have to do that around me, Wylan. You can cry if you need to.”
That seems to be what broke him.
Wylan crashed into Jesper and wrapped his arms tight around his middle. He could feel the sobs wracking through Wylan’s body. He held Wylan as close as he possibly could, clutching the back of his head and bringing it closer to his chest. He pressed his lips into Wylan’s curls.
They stayed like that until Wylan had exhausted himself. They’d moved to sit on the bed, curled up against the headboard. Wylan rested his head on Jesper’s shoulder, and if he was being completely honest with himself, everything about the moment felt right.
“We should fix up your face, yeah?”
Wylan chuckled quietly, “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”
“I’m sure Nina can make sure that doesn’t scar.”
Wylan frowned. “I don’t…”
“You want it to scar?” Jesper asked.
Wylan’s frown deepened. “Well, no, but..”
Jesper had spent enough time around Wylan to know that words didn’t always come easy to him. They’d spent enough prolonged silences, letting Wylan gather his thoughts, to know. Jesper was more than happy to give Wylan the time if it meant he opened up more.
“I don’t like it. But the next time my father sees me I want him to know he failed. That he failed to kill me and the longer I’m around the more of a threat I am to him.”
“How many times has he tried to-to kill you?” Jesper wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but the more he got Wylan talking, the less he had to burden alone.
“The first would have been when I was sixteen. He used to give me tonics all the time, claiming they’d ‘cure’ me. But one day they started to make me very ill. I’d been bedridden for days. It had been a maid that started to suspect something. He stopped giving them to me and pretended it never happened. Then a few years ago he…he sent me away under the guise of a music school in Belendt. The papers were blank, and I only realized after I escaped his men trying to kill me on the way out of Ketterdam that I was never going to make it there. I swam to shore and ended up in the Barrel. It seemed like the perfect place to disappear,” he laughed darkly, “and it was. Until he found me.”
“The letters, he wasn’t just mocking you,” Jesper realized, “he was reminding you he knew where you were.”
Wylan nodded in confirmation.
Jesper pulled him impossibly closer and placed a kiss on his forehead.
“I know a guy who can take down his whole empire,” Jesper said casually.
“Oh? I didn’t know you associated yourself with criminals.”
“Yes, yes. I myself am a very dangerous criminal, actually”
Wylan laughed—and Saints did that sound like a symphony. “Oh really? Should I be worried?”
Jesper rolled them over so that he was hovering over Wylan’s frame, his hands placed firmly into the pillow beside his head.
“Well, that depends.” He leaned down to kiss Wylan softly on the lips.
Wylan reciprocated, cupping the nape of Jesper’s neck. “On what,” he said between kisses.
Jesper pulled back to focus on Wylan’s eyes. “Stop running,” he pleaded.
Wylan squirmed uncomfortably, so Jesper moved back and sat cross-legged on the bed. Wylan also moved upright into a sitting position.
“I don’t mean to, it just sort of…happens. But,” he paused, “I can promise I’ll try.”
Jesper smiled softly. “That’s all I ask, merchling.”
Wylan wrinkled his nose. “Merchling?”
“Yeah you’re like a merch, but cuter.”
Wylan’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’m not a merch. I’ve been disowned remember?”
“Right, like the Crows aren’t gonna find a way to steal everything from that man,” Jesper scoffed.
“I don’t think they’d care.” Wylan shrugged. Jesper wondered how much of Wylan’s thoughts were his own, and how much was his father’s voice in his head. Jesper wondered just how much of his life he would dedicate to making Wylan believe he’d been permanently melded into their little family.
“Trust me, darling, you’re a Crow. And Crows help each other out,” Jesper grinned.
“I think I’m in love with you,” Wylan blurted out.
Jesper’s heart skipped a beat. He’d be the first to admit that everything about this relationship up until this point had been fast and furious and impulsively drunk. He’d soaked in every moment he was gifted to spend with Wylan. It was a dream from which he never hoped to wake. The very concept of loving another person like this seemed impossibly foreign to him; it seemed impossibly out of reach.
He’d had perhaps far too many nights where he woke to an empty bed. Wylan hadn’t been the first. It was a common enough thing in the Barrel; not sticking around. He despised the part of him that forgot Wylan. The part of him that didn’t think twice to waking up alone that morning.
But that past few weeks have been the most exhilarating Jesper has ever experienced, and not in the Barrel flash kind of way. Jesper has had his fair share of near misses, he’d reveled in them. With Wylan it felt electric. It made him feel alive in a way that didn’t require he sacrifice a part of himself. It made him feel whole.
So he didn’t miss a beat, nor did he regret it when he said, “I am in love with you.”
And if Wylan just about melted at those words, pulling Jesper into a devoted kiss, well Jesper would commit him to memory.
He wanted Wylan to stick around, he didn’t want him to run. If Wylan felt his guard crumbling, he wanted him to break in the confines of a home. If he had to run, Jesper wanted it to be to him.
And Jesper saw Kaz’s face when they walked in. He knew there was a plan brewing for the Merch unfortunate enough to have unknowingly bred a grudge with the Bastard of the Barrel. He’d chosen to hurt his own son, and without realizing it he had invoked the wrath of some of the deadliest people in the Barrel.
And they always protected their own.