Archive of Our Own

“I need you to cover for me.”

“Good morning to you too,” Wylan deadpanned.

Nina had knocked on the back door of the mansion, the one that used to be the servants’ entrance, just an hour after Wylan had gotten up this morning. Judging by the unruly state of her hair and clothes, she had woken up and come straight to him.

Normally Wylan wouldn’t have been too concerned, considering Nina could hold her liquor pretty well and consequently handled hangovers with a grace and wit he could only envy.

But something about the way she was standing on his doorstep now, wringing her hands, swaying from one foot to the other, made him nervous.

She was worried. She was scared .

Which meant that whatever happened could only be bad news. For all of them.

His worry deepened when his sarcastic greeting didn’t even earn him a jab, just a quick “Good morning” in return, before she repeated: “I need you to cover for me.”

Wylan felt his eyes narrow. “Why, what did you do?”

Her swaying sped up and Wylan could have sworn there was sweat building up on her forehead. 

“Please Wy, I just need you to cover for me!”

“ Why , what did you do ?”

Nina swallowed and rushed forward, pushing Wylan to the side and entering his kitchen. Her disheveled hair fluttered when Wylan slammed the door shut behind her.

So much for a calm morning .

“I royally fucked up.”

Wylan sighed and turned back to the counter. “Tea?”

Nina nodded, but didn’t move to take a seat at the kitchen table like she normally would.

“With sugar, right?”

Another nod.

Wylan couldn’t stay annoyed at her, not when she was wafting around his kitchen like that, with a face shadowed in guilt, and her eyes darting around nervously as if she was expecting something to jump her out of every corner in the room.

Wylan prepared the second mug in silence, let her calm down a bit, before finally turning around and gesturing to a chair.

“So, what did you do?”

Nina sighed and sat down. “You remember how Jesper and I went drinking last night, right?”

Wylan rolled his eyes.

Considering their bed was currently occupied by his star-fishing boyfriend sleeping off his intoxication, yes. Yes, he did in fact remember.

Pim and he had had to carry the absolutely shitfaced sharpshooter from the Barrel all the way back to Geldstraat, where Pim had then left to let Wylan stew in his own grease.

If Jesper woke up with more than one aching bruise this afternoon due to Wylan maneuvering him up the stairs all on his own, that’d just mean they were even. 

“I scratched his face off the sticky bar table yesterday. I remember.”

Nina nodded nervously. “And you also remember how I refused to leave with you because I wanted just one more round?”
“Yes,” Wylan took a sip from his mug, “I assume it ended up being more than ‘one more’ round?”

She tilted her chin downwards. “So, it turns out that you forgot Jesper’s coat. It was hanging over the back of his chair and when I came back from the bar you guys were already gone.”

Wylan glanced around. Nina hadn’t been carrying a coat.

“So? What, you lost the coat?”

Nina’s knuckles were white from how hard she was clutching her mug. She hadn’t taken a single sip of tea yet. 

“I considered running after you guys, but then I just thought I’d take care of the coat for the rest of the night and return it tomorrow. The problem is-” She interrupted herself and stopped. “He isn’t awake yet, is he?”

Wylan laughed. “No, he isn’t, and trust me, if he tried to drink you under the table, he isn’t going to be either. At least not for another 4 hours.”

He had expected Nina’s mood to lift a little bit at that. She was quite proud of her ability to hold her liquor, and was undefeated at both the Crow Club and the Slat when it came to drinking games.

That was the problem when she and Jesper went out together: Jesper was by no means a lightweight, but he always forgot how many drinks he’d had when he was with Nina. By the time she was finally a little bit tipsy, Jesper was already so far gone he couldn’t walk upright anymore. Wylan loved those two, but together, they were a mess. 

To his surprise Nina didn’t smile now. She just set down her mug and buried her face in her hands. “About that…”

“I might have overdone it last night. I’ve been traveling a lot these past few months so it’s been a while since I’ve had a really wild night. I was so happy to be in Ketterdam again and Jes and I had been drinking these new shots from Kaz’ new bartender that are so sweet you don’t even really-”

“Nina.”

She was rambling. Nina Zenik did not ramble. Wylan’s stomach turned with discomfort. Something was wrong, really, really , wrong. 

“Sometime before you came to pick Jesper up, just after he had fallen asleep on the table, I, in my idiotic, drunk state of mind, thought it would be a good idea to take his gun holster off so it’s more comfortable for him.” She let out a shrill laugh, her eyes darting around the room, refusing to meet Wylan’s gaze.

The discomfort in Wylan’s stomach turned into dread.

“Long story short, the guns were hanging over the back of the chair too. Under the coat.”

Wylan’s heart was racing. “So where is the coat now, Nina?”, he asked, probably louder than necessary. Then, a bit quieter: “Where are his guns?”

Nina jumped up from her chair. “I don’t know! I don’t fucking know, I think I remember talking to some guy that seemed kind of interested in them because he found the handles beautiful, but I told him I’m just watching them for a friend and then-”

“Then what?!”
“I don’t remember!”, she yelled exasperated. “It all goes dark after 4am, and this morning I woke up in my room upstairs and both the coat and the holster were gone. I turned the entire building upside down, nothing. Nothing, Wylan!”

She slumped onto the chair again. Her brown hair fell in front of her face. “I lost Jesper’s guns, Wylan.”

The silence that followed was awkward and heavy. Wylan had no idea what to say.

The guns were gone.

The guns were gone .

His mind began to race. Maybe the guy had stolen them. If he was still in the Barrel somewhere, and they began looking now, maybe there was a chance to catch him. Inej was in town, she’d find him. Or maybe if he tried to sell them somewhere, Kaz would get wind of it and they could get them back. Perhaps one of the staff had removed them and taken them with them for safekeeping, every Dreg knew what Jesper Fahey’s guns looked like. Maybe Nina had just not found them in her panicked, hungover state and they were still lying around in the Club somewhere, safe and sound.

Nina’s voice interrupted Wylan’s thoughts: “So please. I need you to cover for me.”
Wylan set his mug down. “How exactly do you want me to cover for you here? This is bad , Nina!”

She winced. “I know, that’s precisely why I need you to tell him what happened!”

“Where’s the difference whether I tell him or you tell him?”

Nina shot up from her seat and walked up to him, gripping his shoulders. Her hands were clammy and warm, and Wylan could feel her tremble. Never had he seen Nina Zenik in such a state. Her eyes were begging, guilty. “Please Wylan, he won’t get angry if it’s you. And I’m not asking you to take the blame for it, I would never do that, but I just need some time to fix this.”

Her gaze hardened and all of a sudden she looked like the Nina Zenik he knew again: a fierce, determined soldier. “I’m not a coward. I made a mistake and I’ll own up to it, but I also know I can fix this.”

She let go of Wylan and straightened her spine. “You said he’ll wake up in four hours, right?”

Wylan started chewing on his lip. “I can’t guarantee that! He did get pretty drunk yesterday, and usually that means he won’t get up before noon, but-”

Nina interrupted him: “Then I’ll get the guns back before noon! I’m pretty sure the weird guy from yesterday was the one to take them and if I find him in time, I’ll be back with Jes’ treasures before he even knows they were gone!”

She gripped Wylan’s shoulders again, gentler this time. “You’ll only need to cover for me for a short time if he wakes up before that. And he would never get mad at you.”
Wylan shook her hands off and got up. “Yes he would, Nina! These are his revolvers we’re talking about, not me getting a measurement wrong or misplacing one of his hats!”

Nina waved her hands. “I’ll fix this. And I’ll tell him what happened. Until then just keep him busy. If you really don’t want to tell him, fine. But make sure he doesn’t notice the guns are missing.”

Wylan threw his hands up in the air. “How in Ghezen’s name am I supposed to do that? He takes them with him everywhere.”
“He’s gonna be deathly hungover, he isn’t going anywhere today.” She laughed. “And he certainly doesn’t carry them around the house.” Her smile fell and she searched for Wylan’s gaze, her face clouded with uncertainty. “He doesn’t carry them around the house. Right?”

Wylan sucked his lips in and turned his head. “He does.”

Nina’s eyebrows flew upwards. “On days you guys stay in?”
Wylan groaned. The sour mood Nina had been carrying around all morning seemed to finally have lifted, because now she threw her head back and barked out a laugh. “Oh Saints, does he sleep with them?”

“I’m not even going to answer that.”

Nina’s laugh got even louder. “That’s a yes!”

Wylan quickly snatched her mug away, fully aware that she hadn’t finished her tea, and turned around to aggressively begin washing out the ceramics. “Under his damn pillows when we first got together, until I told him it made me nervous having two loaded guns right under my skull. Nowadays they’re just on the nightstand next to his head.”

Nina circled his shoulders from behind and cooed. “Aww, the sacrifices we make for love.”

Wylan swatted her hands away, though he couldn’t completely hide the grin that threatened to pull the corners of his mouth upward. “Don’t you have some guns to reacquire before you get killed by a pissed off Durast?”

“Or his grumpy boyfriend,” Nina mumbled before she was out the door again, in a gust of red silk and unruly brown hair.

With Nina gone, Wylan tried to go back to making breakfast. He had long given up on keeping staff around the house for regular work.

The first few months after the auction, he had kept the regular housekeepers and servants around. It was a big house, barely manageable for 2 people. His mother, who had stayed with them for a year before moving to her family home seat outside the city, had been too weak to do any housework and they wouldn’t have let her either way.

Keeping the experienced workers with them to keep the estate running was a logical solution. And Jesper certainly hadn’t complained about getting three big, freshly-cooked meals every day without having to lift a finger.

That didn’t mean Wylan had to like it.

Necessary staff or not, those were the same people that Wylan had grown up around.

The servants that had wordlessly stood by and watched as his father abused and humiliated him for years on end.

In the beginning Wylan had tried to blend it out. He kept his face neutral as we walked past them in the hallways.

The kitchen girl that had watched his father scream at him until he cried when he was 9.

The gardener that had kept the keys for his father, knowing full well he had locked his son up in his room for two days when he was 11, begging to be let out.

The butler that surely had heard, must have heard , Wylan banging against the door, crying hysterically, screaming in terror for his father to open the door, only to be met with a cruel, blood-freezing bark that he’d be let out as soon as he had “done his duties as an heir”.

The “duty” had been to read a text, “an easy one”, one of his tutors had brought in. His father had demanded that Wylan read the whole thing and recite it to him, only then would the door be unlocked. That part, the butler of course didn’t know.

But the feeling of panic, of dread and humiliation, and the desperate hope that someone, anyone, in the house would help him, was something Wylan would never forget.

Just like he’d never forget the face of the cleaner that watched soundlessly when Jan van Eck dragged his son out of the room by his arm two days later, leaving dark hand shaped bruises on his pale skin. 

The nannies Jan van Eck had hired over the years had never been with the household long, and Wylan was glad he would never have to see their faces again. He remembered them standing in the corner of his room, their hands folded in front of their stomach, the same neutral, obedient, polite smile on each of their faces, watching as Jan van Eck made his son’s life a living hell.

After his mother had returned to his life, she had helped him, Jesper and Kaz to weed out most of the bad apples; there were a lot of bad apples. But the more time Wylan spent with them in this house again, the more he felt like the entire fruit tree was rotten.

He had tried to swallow the feeling. He was a merchant now, this was his house, he was the head of household. They answered to him. Not his father. 

But with every passing day it got harder.

When his mother finally told him that she would move out of the mansion, about a year after the auction, to go to their countryside estate, Wylan had been happy for her. He’d accompanied Marya to her new home, had helped her move and get settled in while Jesper took care of their affairs back in Ketterdam.

His mother had only two maids nowadays, two elderly ladies from Girecht, who enjoyed her complete trust and affection. The days he’d spent in the peaceful, private atmosphere of the countryside with her had been wonderful.

He remembered how tight her hug had been when they said goodbye. Her face was red and glowing with health and happiness, and he had squeezed her arms.

“You’re always welcome in Ketterdam. And if you need anything, we’re never far away.”
Marya’s smile had rivaled the sun. “Oh I know, honey. But I think it’s long overdue that I get out of that city again,” her smile had turned into a grin, “and you and Jepser get some time alone, don’t you think?” The wink that followed had made Wylan’s face burn up with a dark red flush.

As beautiful as the time with his mother had been, as gruesome was it to return to the mansion in Ketterdam.

Wylan didn’t know what had been the catalyst.

Maybe it was the stark contrast between the privacy of the country seat and the mansion buzzing with staff. Maybe he had just had one of his bad days. 

Jesper had greeted him by the stairs, jogging towards him to catch him in his arms and hug him tight. And then he had leaned down to kiss him on the lips, just a chaste, gentle little peck, but Wylan had felt the eyes of the staff burning into the back of his head, and moved his face so Jesper’s lips landed on his cheek instead. The confused hurt in Jes’ eyes had been burned into Wylan’s memory forever.

Wylan’s eyes swam as he choked back his tears and whispered: “Can I talk to you please? In private?”

Jesper nodded immediately, still confused and a little bit upset, but he seemed to understand that Wylan was going through something. Because he always does , Wylan thought as Jesper grabbed his bags and led him up the stairs to their room.

The door fell shut and for one horrible second Wylan felt afraid. What if Jesper was going to be mad at him for rejecting his kiss? What if this was a stupid idea and he was going to be annoyed with the additional work and stress he was going to load onto them?

The feeling ebbed away the second his boyfriend dropped the bags and spun around on his heel, his smile kind and cheerful.

“So,” Jesper began, “where’s the fire?”

Wylan took a deep breath. He leaned back against the dark wood of the door and said: “I want to get rid of the staff.”

Jesper’s eyebrows shot up like this wasn’t what he’d expected, but he grinned nonetheless. “Not that I’m disagreeing merchling, but what’s brought this on all of a sudden?”

Wylan perked up. “You’re not?”

Jesper shrugged and walked up to him. “It was nice having someone do the laundry for me.” His hands came up to Wylan’s shoulders and squeezed. “For a time. Now I’d just like to have you all to myself again. And sure, it’s gonna be a bunch of work to keep this house clean, cause honestly, who needs four sitting rooms? But it’s not like we’re short on time these days.” His hands glided down Wylan’s arms and came to rest when he intertwined their fingers. “I can clean up behind me, I always helped with the housework growing up!” His grin was bright and Wylan felt his chest lighten.

“I take it, the days in peace with your mother made you realize what we’re missing, huh?” Jesper grinned. “No one to trail after you when you want to be,” he wiggled his eyebrows and if Wylan hadn’t been so thankful for him, he would’ve feigned annoyance, “ alone after work.”

“I can’t stop thinking about how they were all watching what my father did to me”, Wylan blurted out. 

Jesper’s smile dropped immediately and a deep, worried frown took its place. Wylan wanted to punch himself.

Great, you just ruined the mood. Again.

“I’m-”

Jepser grabbed his hands tighter and brought them to his chest. “I dare you to finish that sentence, merchling.”

That brought a smile to Wylan’s lips. “Or what?”

Jesper grinned, picked him up and spun him around, his arms tight around Wylan’s waist. Wylan could feel a bright laugh escape him as he clung to his neck. This time, with finally just the two of them here, he didn’t turn away when Jesper kissed him.

Later that night, Wylan had told Jesper everything. He had told him about the kitchen girl, the gardener, the butler. Had told him about the dozens of faceless nannies, that had silently watched as his father beat dark purple bruises onto his skin or gripped his hair so tight to force his face into a book that his scalp throbbed. 

“I was so naive and stupid, with every nanny I hoped it’d get better. I never learnt my lesson. I always thought I’d-” he choked where he was lying on Jesper’s chest and bit his lip to stop himself from crying, ”I would get something like a mom again.” He could feel his lip wobble and quickly hid his face in Jesper’s collarbone.

“You weren’t stupid or naive,” his boyfriend’s hoarse voice came from somewhere above him. “You were a child. And clinging to every little thing in order to survive.”

Jesper’s arms were warm and tight around him.

Wylan didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he woke up the next morning, his boyfriend was already sitting at the desk, one of the knit blankets Colm had brought from Novyi Zem around his shoulders to keep him warm in the cool morning air. He had drawn the curtains open a little bit to have some light.

Wylan blinked against the sunrays and slowly sat up. When Jesper noticed he was awake he grinned and got up.

“Good morning,” he trilled and bent down to kiss Wylan’s temple.

“What are you writing there?”, Wylan asked and shifted so Jesper would have space to sit down next to him on the mattress. 

Just one week later a copy of the letter of resignation Jesper had drafted was handed over to most of the household staff, along with enough money to compensate for the sudden lay-off that would supply them and their families until they found new work.

As it turned out, Jesper had been telling the truth when he’d said he knew his way around housework. 

Barrel boy or not, he was an incredible cook and Wylan had to admit that the hearty Zemini meals he prepared beat anything his father’s chefs could ever throw together. Wylan took care of the cleaning for the most part, and they shared the laundry. Considering Inej, and Nina and Matthias kept their own rooms clean and tidy when they were staying in Ketterdam, it was far more manageable than Wylan would have expected. If something needed fixing and they couldn’t do it themselves, Kaz usually just sent one of his men over and it was done before they even came back from their council meeting.

“I’ll send you the bill, merchling”, he’d say every single time, but Wylan hadn’t gotten a single one in the entire year they'd been doing this.

“That’s his way of saying he loves you”, Nina had joked once when they were all lounging around his fireplace in the main sitting room, but from the way Kaz had rolled his eyes and looked away, Inej beaming up at him, her dark eyes shimmering with affection and pride, Wylan didn’t doubt that one bit. 

Everything else just fell into place, and all of a sudden this house felt less like an estate and more like a home . 

No matter what, Jesper had always supported him whole-heartedly and without question. 

He’d always been there, right by Wylan’s side.

The thought of lying to him now made bile rise up in his throat. And about his guns too. 

Wylan stretched up to get the coffee from the shelf above the sink. 

When he closed his eyes and pictured Jesper Fahey, he saw him with his guns on his hips.

The pearl handles shimmering around the polished metal.

Jesper loved those guns. They were more than just some weapons, it was what they stood for that made them special, the love and care and history that they were connected to. 

They were rich enough to commission guns ten times worth those revolvers, but nothing would ever be able to replace them.

In all their time together, Wylan had never seen Jesper furious. Angry, of course.

They did argue, as all couples did, but Jesper had a forgiving nature, and he loved Wylan.

He never yelled, never even so much as raised his voice at Wylan.

Once, in the beginning of their relationship, during one of their first real fights, Jesper had accidentally slammed a door.

Wylan remembered the ice cold fear that had gripped him.

He was frozen in place, unable to move or speak.

All of a sudden he was 13 again, and his father was raging around the house, all loud and big and terrifying, slamming doors and cabinets. He was 13 again, and cowering on his bed, trying to make himself as small as possible but knowing well it would be no use. He was just waiting, breath held, for his father to stomp up to his door and take his anger out on him.

He couldn’t breathe.

Jesper had already opened his mouth to apologize for the slam, the door having simply slid out of his hand, when he realized that Wylan was staring at him, eyes wide but unseeing, with labored breath.

They had both cried that night, and Jesper had never slammed a door again, not even on accident.

When Jesper got angry now, he would show it, but differently.

Usually, he just showed it by saying something.

But this?

His guns being gone, maybe forever?

Wylan swallowed and began cutting some fruit.

He was at fault too, not just Nina. He had gotten Jes ready for bed yesterday, had even briefly wondered where his coat was, but his guns? Wylan had just assumed Jesper had left them at home. As if Jes would ever go anywhere without them.

But it had been late, and Wylan had been tired, so he just got Jesper out of his dirty clothes and into some soft linen for sleep, before finally falling into the pillows himself.

The familiar fear was back, choking him, and as always, with the fear came the guilt.

He didn’t want to feel about Jesper this way, waiting for punishment, for the blow to come. It felt like he was subconsciously putting Jes on the same level as his father, and the thought was so vile and rotten it made Wylan’s eyes water.

Was that how he showed gratitude to the man who had loved, supported and comforted him for nearly three years now?

The man who read to him?

He shook his head and tried to push the feeling down, down , away from the surface, prayed to Ghezen, or the Saints, or any higher power out there it would never see the light.

In that moment a dark figure stepped through the door.

“Jes! You’re awake!” He glanced at the clock above the door frame. At 9 in the morning? That’s got to be some kind of miracle.

Jesper wobbled into the kitchen and Wylan felt the retched feeling disappear like dew in the morning sun.

The tall Zemeni groaned when the light hit his face and pressed the balls of his hands to his eyes, promptly colliding with the table corner. Wylan laughed. “You’re up early.”
Another groan. “If you’ve ever loved me, you’ll only whisper for the next five business days.”

“Hey, I told you to take it easy!”

“I know,” Jesper whimmered and slumped down on one of the chairs. “And I’ll never not listen to you again, I feel like I got run over by a Fjerdan tank.”

Another laugh escaped Wylan’s lips, but this time he remembered to lower his volume in time. “ Strymakt Fjerdan ”, he joked and pulled Jesper’s head to his chest so he could press a kiss on his hair. “Ew, you’ve smelt better.”

Jesper pulled away and squinted up at him. The self-righteous offense on his face was hilarious. “You try keeping up with Nina Zenik when she’s drinking!”
Wylan ran his hand over Jesper’s hair. It was getting longer again, the tight curls beginning to be pulled down by their own weight in the nape of his neck and over his forehead.

“You’re the only one stupid enough to try, Jes. Did you bathe in an ashtray last night?”

“The guy Nina and I talked to was smoking one cig after another, I have no idea how he even pays for all of that. Kept complaining about how broke he was and how much he needed the work in one of the Barrel Clubs.” He pressed his fingers over his eyes again. “I think he was just chatting with us cause he knew we were two of Kaz’ Crows and was hoping we’d get him an interview or some shit.”

Wylan perked up. “He was broke?” Maybe he really will try to sell them then. And if they show up in the Barrel somewhere, we’ll know!

Jesper shrugged and buried his face in his boyfriend’s chest again, his eyes closed. “Not enough to spend hundreds on tobacco apparently. Is that breakfast?”

Wylan laughed. “Not quite done yet, but I’m assuming you’re skipping the Wentelteefjes anyway?”
“Wylaaaan”, Jesper groaned and turned away, his face ash grey with nausea. “Please don’t talk about sugar right now.”

Wylan grinned. “Maybe some greasy ham or eggs then.”
“Shut up!”

Wylan laughed.

Jesper was more than happy with black coffee and plain Zemeni flatbread to start his day. Wylan force-fed him some apples and listened to his complaints about Nina’s singing voice still ringing in his ears, but all in all, it was a quiet morning.

Still, the worry about Jesper’s guns sat in the back of his head nonetheless.

“Why are you up this early anyway?”, Wylan asked about an hour later when they were done eating. “You never get up before noon when you’re hungover.”

Jesper sighed. “I completely forgot what day it was, so when I was puking my insides out earlier, I suddenly remembered I had some errands to run this noon.”

Dammit.

When Jesper had to leave the house, he would definitely notice his guns missing, no doubt about it.

“When do you have to leave?”
“Pretty much as soon as I’m cleaned up.” He slapped his thigh and awkwardly got up, his legs still a bit unsteady. “I’m gonna head upstairs.”
“Are you sure you should be out in this state?”, Wylan tried. “This is the Barrel we’re talking about after all. Crow or not, someone who doesn’t know the rules around here could still try to jump you.”

Jesper winked. Or at least, tried to. Today it looked more like a miss-timed blink. Annoyingly - and charmingly - it was somehow still ridiculously charismatic. “Don’t worry about me, darling. I’m not heading to the Barrel today. And I’ve still got my babies to protect me after all.”

“Jes… About that-” Wylan began, but Jesper was already through the door.

Shit, shit, shit, shit-

Nina thought she had until 12. But Jesper was going to be out of the house in an hour, and then there was no hiding it anymore. Wylan already felt terrible for not telling him, but how was he going to bring it up now, after he’d just had breakfast with him as if nothing was wrong.

A familiar little voice in his head kept yelling deny, deny, deny , but Wylan knew there was no going back.

Best to rip the bandaid off now, he thought and moved to get up.

Jesper would never get mad at you , Nina had said, but Wylan wasn’t so sure about that. If the guns were truly lost, he had no idea how Nina and him would ever make it up to Jes.

Nina had claimed that it was her mistake and she would take full responsibility for it, and Wylan didn’t doubt that for a second. She was loyal and headstrong and normally he’d be sure that she wouldn’t cower to Jesper, but the prospect of having to tell their sharpshooter that his beloved revolvers were gone seemed to have frightened even their Corpsewitch.

Wylan was just about to follow Jesper upstairs when another knock on the backdoor made him flinch. It was a lot more urgent than Nina’s had been, stricter and harder. Almost demanding. Wylan immediately knew who was there.

So much for a calm morning , he thought again, and opened the door.

Kaz Brekker didn’t wait to be invited in, he just stepped past Wylan, one hand on his cane, the other wrapped around a lumpy bag.

“Jes is upstairs, how much time do we have until he comes down?”

“How do you-” Wylan started, but then decided to drop it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Usually takes him about half an hour, maybe a bit more today. He’s not really steady on his feet. Why? What’s going on?”
“This,” Kaz huffed and unceremoniously threw down the bag on the table.

Wylan moved closer to inspect it, carefully taking the dark fabric between two fingers and moving a flap to the side.

He didn’t know what he’d expected. This was Kaz Brekker after all. Disguises for a heist? Dangerous weapons? Human body parts? 

Certainly not this.

Wylan was greeted by the familiar sight of Jesper’s dark brown coat, the cheaper, not the expensive one. The one he wore on nights out.

He gasped and looked up to meet Kaz’ gaze, but his expression was as cold and unfathomable as ever. Then his body started moving on his own.

He ripped the bag apart, rummaging around the coat when-

There.

His fingertips made out the warm touch of soft, worn leather. And just above it cold metal.

“How in Ghezen-”

“Yesterday, whilst your boyfriend was busy drooling all over my bar table, I noticed that his coat and guns had been taken off. I thought you and Nina would remember, but apparently that is too much to ask of you. When I came back Jesper was gone, Nina was getting her 7th round at the bar, and the guns were sitting out in the open, so I took them into my care for the rest of the night. I assumed I would have until midday to return them, given Jesper’s inability to nurse his hangovers and stay awake at the same time. I can only hope he hasn’t noticed they’re missing from his nightstand yet.”

“I-,” Wylan could only gape at him. “He hasn’t noticed yet.”

Kaz gave a curt nod. “I assume Nina is currently roaming the barrel looking for a mysterious thief that never existed?”

Wylan nodded.

“Did she look scared?”

Wylan nodded again.

“Ashamed?”

“More than I thought Nina Zenik was physically able to.”
Kaz’ face stayed iron, but there was the smallest possible twitch in his mouth. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Yes. Nina is far from stupid, but let this be a lesson anyway. You can tell her when she comes crawling back here to apologize to Jes. But let her have these few agonizing hours in the Barrel for her to imagine what will happen when she returns empty handed. Only stupid people would touch Jesper Fahey’s guns and not have the decency to be scared afterwards.”

“Nina isn’t scared of Jes, Kaz.”
Another small twitch. “Isn’t she? You saw her this morning. I saw you just now, when I came in. Jesper can be a fool, but noone in their right mind wouldn’t be scared.”

Wylan looked up from the bundle on the table and smiled. “Even you?”

“I am not scared of Jesper, Wylan.” A pause. “But I am in my right mind.”

Wylan grinned. That was as much of a confession as he’d get out of him.

He grabbed the holsters, carefully pulling the priced weapons out from the twist of fabrics, and placed them on the counter. The coat he draped over one of the hangers next to the door.

“Thank you, Kaz,” he smiled when he turned around again.

“Don’t. Jesper is my best shooter, I need him on top of his game when he’s in the field.”

Two years ago that answer would have disappointed Wylan, maybe even made him flinch. Today, he just tilted his head and grinned lazily. “Of course. That’s why you limped from the Barrel all the way to Geldstraat in the early morning. When you know for a fact that we have other firearms in the house.”

Kaz jaw hardened.

“I also know that the change of weather these past few days has made your leg hurt. It always does. It’s a long walk. Truly remarkable what you do for the gang.” He laughed at Kaz’ sour face. “Just for the gang of course.”

“Alright, enough. I will be off now.”

“I’ll tell Jes you said hello.”
“No. Best to leave him in the dark about all of…this. He would freak out if he found out he was so close to losing them and I can not deal with his theatrics today. Or tomorrow, that is.”
Wylan shrugged. He agreed with the first part. As much as he hated lying to Jesper, what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. They were back. Everything was going to be okay.

“Tell Jes Nina thought she had lost them but they were with you all along. Just let her apologize first.”

Wylan sighed. “That’s cruel, Kaz. She’s one of us.”
Kaz folded his hands over the crow head on his cane. “I just want to make sure the message sticks. The rest of the Dregs know to never touch Jes’ guns. I don’t know why the rules should be different for the Crows.”

“Ghezen, you care about him so much.”
“I am not continuing this absurd conversation, Wylan. I’m leaving. Good morning.”

Wylan watched Kaz open the door and limp down the two stairs, before he went after him.

“Kaz!” he yelled.

Kaz turned around. “I am not looking for Nina, Wylan. I’m not Jesper, you can’t bat your eyelashes and make me follow your every whim.”
Wylan grinned: “Is this just about her touching your best friend’s guns or about that time last month where she made you the honeypot for the mission.”

“I don’t have friends. And you know what they say about Dirtyhands and his vengeance.”

“Sure. Thanks for counting your not-friends’ rounds by the way!”

“How does it feel to be the third in your own relationship? The guns do get more kisses than you, right?”

Wylan slammed the door shut. The bastard always had to get the last word.

When Jesper came downstairs a while later, Wylan was sipping another cup of tea.

By the hard line between his eyebrows, Wylan could immediately tell that something was wrong.

“Darling, have you seen where I put my babies last night?”

Wylan was genuinely surprised it had taken that long.

On a normal day, Jes would’ve noticed them missing the very second he woke up. In a way, Nina’s drinking habits had saved all their asses today.

“Right there on the counter.”

Jesper perked up. “Ah, yes, thank you.”

He grabbed the holster and quickly wrapped it around his waist. “I’m off now. Won’t be long.”

He walked over to where Wylan was sitting, bent down and kissed him. “Love you.” Another kiss on his temple and Jesper was out the kitchen in a whirlwind of long limbs and bright fabrics.

Wylan sat there for a second staring at his mug. Then he jumped up as if stung, and chased after his boyfriend.

Jesper was in the hallway on his way to the main entrance when Wylan called: “Jes, can I ask you something really quick?”

He stopped and turned around. “Sure.”

Wylan kneaded his hands and tried to calm his nerves. All of a sudden this seemed like a really bad idea.

Just ask , a voice inside his head whispered. Just ask. It’s just Jes, just ask.

“If I made a mistake, like a big one, and I knew you would be really angry with me, I could tell you, right?”

Jesper seemed taken aback by the question. “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” He smiled awkwardly. “Anything I should know about, merchling?”

Wylan bit his lip. “Nothing acutely, I’ve just been…wondering.” He sighed and felt his shoulders slump. “I know this sounds stupid and I never want you to think that I don’t trust you, I’ve just had a rough couple of days with this.”

This wasn’t entirely the truth and Wylan felt bad for it, but it wasn’t wrong either.

And he couldn’t ignore this feeling anymore, this horrible, paralyzing fear with all the guilt that accompanied it. He needed to talk about this, and as sorry as Wylan was about Jesper’s errands, this couldn’t wait another hour. 

Jesper’s face had turned from bright and cheerful into the soft, gentle expression he always wore when Wylan came to him with stuff like this, and Wylan knew every single word he was about to say would be heard and considered, taken serious and turned over carefully like something precious.

There was no pity between them and he was thankful for that.

Next to Jesper he could be just himself, just Wylan. But for the first time in his life Just Wylan was someone worth listening to, a man treated like an equal to his conversation partner. Nothing he said was ever stupid when he was with Jesper.

“Wy, there is nothing you could do that could make me so mad we couldn’t fix it together.”

Wylan let out the breath that had been stuck in his throat. Of course.

“What if it was something that really hurt you?”
Jesper was in front of him in four long strides and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Do you plan on brutally murdering me in my sleep?”

“Not really, no.”

“Then yes, you can tell me anything and it’ll be fine.”

“What if I did something stupid and lost your guns?”, Wylan blurted out.

The seconds of silence were deafening, but then Jesper just pulled him close and started laughing. “If you told me you ‘lost’ them I’d just assume you got jealous of our special connection and threw them in the canal.”

Wylan could feel the vibrations of Jesper’s laughter where his cheek was laid on his chest. “Kaz did call me the third in my own relationship…”

Another loud laugh. “That’s because Kaz makes a living by being an ass.”

Jesper pulled back to look Wylan in the eyes, his hands still on the merchant’s shoulders, rubbing his thumbs over this fabric there affectionately.

“Seriously merchling, let's say, for the sake of the argument, you did lose my guns.”

Wylan swallowed.

Jesper’s expression was earnest and gentle. “I would be hurt and I would be angry, because they mean a lot to me. But I would know that it was an accident. You’d have to help me look of course, best believe I’ll turn the whole island of Kerch upside down until I get my babies back, but the point is,” he leaned down to press a kiss on Wylan’s forehead, “I know you would do anything to help me.” Another kiss on his hair. 

Mati en sheva yelu. This action will have no echo.

Wasn’t that exactly what Inej had always taught them?

“So. What brought this on?”
“I’m scared of you sometimes,” Wylan burst out. “Sometimes I’m waiting for a blow to come, like I did with my father and I hate it because he was so horrible and you are good to me and it makes me feel like I’m betraying all you’ve ever done for me, because I know you would never hurt me and you’ve never done anything to make me fear you, but it’s like there’s this…” Wylan hesitated, “this instinct he’s cursed me with, to shy away from every movement and noise and no matter how much time we spend together, I can never seem to get rid of it.”

Once the confession was out, finally, finally , after years, it didn’t feel heavy at all anymore. Jesper’s face was still kind and understanding, like he had known in a way, though he seemed a bit surprised by Wylan’s sudden flood of words.

“There’s nothing you can do about it that you aren’t already doing, but it’s been a weird few days and I just needed to ask.” 

Jesper nodded, then stared off into the distance for a few seconds, clearly deep in thought. “And you’re sure everything is alright? I didn’t accidentally do something to set this off?”
“No, everything's fine, really. You’re good,” Wylan said and then leaned up to kiss his jaw. “I just wanted to hear it. And to hear you’re not hurt by me feeling this way.” 

Jesper smiled and squeezed his arms. “Of course not! Just promise me to say something right away the next time you feel like this, okay?”

Wylan agreed and then began to playfully push his boyfriend towards the door. “Now go and get some fresh air, Ghezen knows your head needs it!”