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Wylan doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged. He knew it couldn’t have been after his mother died because she was the only one who ever hugged him once his father gave up on him. No one else in his life had ever liked him enough to even consider touching him. So, Wylan couldn’t remember what a hug felt like. He didn’t know what he was missing except for the fact that he missed it. He missed the feeling of someone’s arms around him, a comforting warmth that would protect him from everything else in the world. He tried not to think about it too much, how much he longed for affection and love. It only made him feel worse.
The first thing Wylan noticed when he met Jesper was how tactile he was. He would constantly lean into people or put a hand on someone’s shoulder when he was speaking to them. As Wylan was sitting in the Crow Club, drawing up plans for whatever new bomb Kaz wanted him to make, his eyes would always be drawn to the sharpshooter, as if Wylan was a moth and he was a flame.
It didn’t matter who Jesper was talking to, there would always be some form of contact between them (except when he was talking to Kaz, but Wylan assumed that if Jesper tried anything like that it would not end well for him). Wylan almost wanted to find something to talk to Jesper about just to feel some small amount of human contact. It was pitiful and pathetic and Wylan hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Would Jesper’s hands be warm? He looked like the sort of person to have warm hands. Just the thought of someone’s warm hands on him was enough to make Wylan shiver. He wanted Jesper to hug him. He wanted to feel warm again in a way he hadn’t felt since he was eight years old.
Wylan shook his head, turning away from where Jesper was leaning against the bar and talking to a random patron of the club and back to his drawings. He took a deep, shaking breath and tried to ignore the longing stirring in his gut. The near immediate disconnect from his emotions came with practiced ease, something he had learned over the long years with just his father for company. His fingers gripped tighter around the pencil he was holding as he began to continue his plans.
He was so concentrated on his work that he didn’t notice the person approaching his small table in the corner. A hand reached down and rested next to his paper, startling Wylan as he quickly whipped his head up to see who was standing over him. Fortunately (and unfortunately) it was Jesper, a small, smug smile on his face as he looked at Wylan’s shocked face.
“The novice, right?” He asked. His voice felt like sipping a warm cup of hot chocolate in the middle of a thunderstorm and Wylan immediately thought that he could listen to Jesper’s voice for the rest of his life and never get tired of it. Jesper cleared his throat, somehow not awkwardly, and Wylan realized that the boy had asked a question and he had just been staring up at him.
“Um- Yes. I suppose so, if you must call me that.” Wylan tried not to stutter too much, but Jesper’s amused eyebrow lift told him that he had not succeeded.
“I must,” He grinned and Wylan’s heart fluttered in his chest. He wished he could see that smile every day of his life. “You seemed very lonely over here; thought I would see if you needed some company.”
Wylan opened his mouth almost immediately to respond, but when Jesper winked at him the words died on his lips. He swore to Ghezen Jesper was trying to give him a heart attack. As he waited for Wylan’s response, Jesper slid into the seat across from him and began to examine the drawing still sitting on the table.
“Ah, I-I’m alright, really. Just working on some things for Kaz,” Wylan gave a strained smile, watching tensely at the paper now clutched in Jesper’s hands. His own hands were twitching to rip the plans away from him, afraid of the ridicule he might be about to face.
“Hm, this is pretty good, novice. Good enough that I might reconsider calling you novice.” Jesper dropped the paper casually and looked up at Wylan again; as if he hadn’t just turned Wylan’s entire world on its axle.
“That would be appreciated,” Wylan grabbed the drawing and stuffed it into his bag quickly. He didn’t think Jesper was joking about liking it, but he wasn’t about to take his chances and let the boy see it again.
“I’ll keep it in mind. Is there something you would rather me call you?” Jesper leaned back in his chair, looking perfectly comfortable amidst the chaos of the Crow Club, something Wylan had always envied when he caught himself watching Jesper from afar.
“Well, my name would be just fine. It’s Wylan.” Jesper smiled brightly as if that was the most beautiful name he had ever heard and Wylan found himself returning it, although his was a little dimmer.
“Suits you, pretty name for a pretty boy,” Wylan was pretty sure he felt his heart stop in his chest for a second, but Jesper continued talking before he could even process the words, “Want a drink?”
“Oh! Uh- I don’t know if I should. I mean, Kaz-” But Wylan was cut off as Jesper grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Wylan had been right. Jesper’s hands were as warm as the sun and the sudden burst of heat shocked him enough that he didn’t protest as Jesper dragged him over to the bar.
He didn’t let go of Wylan’s hand once they got there and Wylan wasn’t sure if he was happy about it or not. The feeling of Jesper’s skin on his was all he could think about as he stared at their intertwined hands, heart beating frantically in his chest. The longer Jesper held on the more Wylan felt like his hand was burning him. The heat spread through his entire body as if his singular hand wasn’t enough to hold the warmth. Despite the heat coursing through him, Wylan shivered. He hoped Jesper didn’t notice, but knew it was unlikely with how close they were standing.
His worries were confirmed when Jesper turned to look at him, concern written all over his face, and asked, “Is this okay? I’m sorry I forgot to ask, I got a bit ahead of myself.” Jesper let out a small, self-deprecating laugh and started to let go of Wylan’s hand.
“I-It’s fine,” Wylan tried to give him an encouraging smile, but it didn’t seem to do much to reassure Jesper, “Really, I’m alright.”
“Are you sure, though? You don’t have to say that just because I was being all pushy earlier-” Wylan’s heart dropped into his stomach as Jesper’s hand dropped, leaving him with a sudden coldness. He had only felt the warmth for a few short seconds but now without it, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Even the burning sensation was better than the bitter coldness of its absence.
“No,” Wylan couldn’t tell if he screamed the word or if it came out a broken whisper. Either way, Jesper turned to again immediately. Their eyes met and Wylan wondered if Jesper could see the desperation in his face. He tried to reach for Jesper’s hand again, needing to feel warm again, but his arm wouldn’t obey. He was frozen in place, staring into Jesper’s gorgeous silver eyes. “Please.”
Apparently, the desperation was clear enough on his face, or maybe it was the tears welling in his eyes, because Jesper’s eyes widened and he quickly grabbed Wylan’s hand again. Wylan felt a strange sense of deja vu as Jesper once again dragged him across the Crow Club, this time out the back door and into a small alleyway behind the building. He sat Wylan down on a bench and crouched in front of him.
Wylan frustratedly wiped at the tears now slowly falling down his face. Ghezen, now Jesper would think he was some pathetic crybaby and leave him here so that he wouldn’t have to look at his tear-stained face anymore.
Instead of leaving, however, Jesper’s hand reached up towards Wylan’s face. He instinctually flinched away, scared of Jesper’s retaliation to his emotional outburst, but the boy simply held his hand there until Wylan gathered the confidence to get closer again. Jesper moved his hand slowly so Wylan could follow each movement until he felt it rest against his cheek. The warmth was back in an instant. He had already forgotten how intense the heat was and felt the urge to pull away yet also to grow closer at the same time. His mind didn’t know what to do, so he stayed frozen, staring at the hand on his face as he tried to process what was happening.
“Are you okay?” Jesper’s voice was soft, as gentle as the thumb gently stroking his cheekbone. Wylan couldn’t even open his mouth to respond. His gaze flicked from Jesper’s hand to his face and wondered instantly how someone so beautiful could even look at him let alone touch him. Jesper didn’t seem inclined to leave, though, and Wylan didn’t think he had it in him to make him.
After a few seconds of silence, Wylan let the strings that had been holding him so taut for years fall away. He leaned heavily into Jesper’s palm, letting his body fall forward. Jesper didn’t even hesitate to wrap his other arm around Wylan, holding him steady as sobs wracked his body. He barely even knew Jesper and yet the boy treated him as if he was something to be treasured, to be held close and protected. Wylan didn’t know how to react.
Wylan couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him as gently as Jesper did on that small bench. The intense heat eventually subsided into a comforting warmth that made Wylan want Jesper to never let go. He had been cold for so long he didn’t know if he would be able to handle going back to it. In the back of his mind he felt the creeping doubts start to crawl in: what happens when Jesper realizes how broken he is and leaves? How could anyone as wonderful as him want to stay with Wylan? But for the first time, Wylan was able to ignore them. With Jesper’s warm body curled around him, Wylan let himself feel safe.