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“I'm not coming,” Wylan said, his tone leaving no room for objection. “I have experiments to run in the shop, and you don't need my help.”
“This is important–”
“Is it for Inej?”
“Inej is at sea.”
“Then no.”
Kaz scowled, squeezing the head of his cane tightly. He had appeared, without knocking of course, suddenly and uninvited. It wasn't that Kaz wasn't welcome – of all people, Kaz was one of the ones that was, but Wylan wasn't doing the jobs anymore. He needed his boundaries and he needed his peace.
Kaz knew this.
“Wylan–”
“I told you before. Unless someone's in trouble… or Inej is hurt, I'm not involved.”
Kaz's shoulders slumped, the hand not choking the head of his cane digging nervously into the knot of his tie. A few more tugs and twists and he'd have to redo it completely. Perhaps that in itself was a sign that Kaz needed a more normal life as well – his emotions were becoming more exposed as his armor was cracking, and eventually the world would be able to see the vulnerability he had hidden for years. Growth and allowing himself to be vulnerable had both strengthened and weakened him.
“Fine,” Kaz ground out, pulling out the tie in frustration, “Forget it.”
“Kaz–” The tie was tossed to the floor and Wylan shook his head, bending down to pick it up. “They'll see right through you looking like that.”
“I'm aware, merchling.”
“You said you'd stop calling me that,” he objected gently, “Come here.”
Kaz, however, didn't move, standing frozen in place with his lips closed tight, gaze toward the doorway he had come in from. He was thinking of leaving, clearly, but Wylan wouldn't let him go without his tie.
He flattened the fabric in his hands and dragged it around the back of Kaz's neck, fitting it perfectly under his suit.
"My father taught me before he realized I'd never read,” he murmured, “You have to be presentable as a merchant's son. He cared back then, I guess, before I realized his love was… conditional. I never imagined he would try to have me killed, but I had everything at the beginning."
Kaz nodded, his eyes far away, still mildly pouting from Wylan's refusal. "To know what you've lost, it… it weighs on you. Better to be born a barrel rat."
Wylan shook his head, "No, I think that's wrong. I was too young to understand the truth of where my father's love came from, but I believed in it. It taught me what I deserve, what I could have. Even when my father changed, when my mother disappeared, when I blamed myself, I never forgot. My tutors and the time I spent alone at the window… it was all I needed. All I still need. I was happy, and yeah life changed and maybe I was numb, but I could survive in that emptiness. And it's been filled by everyone in my life…” He pointed at his head before slipping the end of the tie through a loop he'd made and pulling, ensuring the knot was taut. “By everything I've learned."
Kaz didn't comment, so he continued.
"That's why I don't want to be a part of the heists anymore, Kaz. It's not because I don't love you. I'm happy with the simple and your life is... complicated."
“And what if Jesper was there?”
Wylan tried to catch his eyes, but Kaz was stubborn and refused to look away from the door. At least he was standing still, allowing Wylan to stay so close, to wrap something around his neck. At least the trust had lasted despite everything they had faced.
“It’s his choice now. I can't make his decisions. And I know you would take care of him. That you do take care of him.”
“Of course, but he doesn't need me anymore.”
“Yeah…” Wylan whispered, and a burst of affection warmed his chest, floating into his words as he continued, “He's taking after you.”
He never thought he'd look at Kaz and see someone to look up to. But he did. He admired Kaz's independence, and the way he had ever-so-subtly built them all up. Kaz was a man that did good but never received the thanks for what he'd done, because he always hid his deeds behind his arrogance and cruelty. Because thanks was given to those who cared, and to care was dangerous.
“Let's hope that's not the case,” Kaz grumbled, waving off the comment. He pulled back then, finishing his tie with a push of the knot toward his neck before he turned to the mirror. “Your technique is good.”
Wylan walked up behind him, meeting his eyes through his reflection. He looked better than he did only a couple of weeks ago, injuries that had stained his face long faded. He was more awake and he stood a little straighter, much like he used to, and his limp was back to its regular lean. There was no more pained grimace as he walked, not more than usual, and no more wincing and flinching at the slightest touch.
Hopefully, that also meant there would be no more violent jobs, jobs of which the others still had to fully inform him about, but he could gather and connect the dots quite easily. Blood and death and rage. There was murder, lots of it, and it was deserved. And somehow, all of that meant it was over. The jobs were supposed to be just that from then on – jobs. Still, sometimes they worried.
“When the job is done, will you pass by? Before you head back to the Slat.”
Kaz ran his hands over his suit as if adjusting it, even while it already sat on his body perfectly. “Concerned about me, Wylan?”
“I'd like to know that you're alright. I'll sleep a little better.”
It was quiet for a moment, Kaz's gaze leaving his own to stare instead at the floor below them. Wylan could tell he was uncomfortable, his body tense, likely fighting his usual instinct to reject any affection. “You should move out of this place. Ten people could live here and you'd go the entire day not seeing one.”
Wylan smiled, “I used to enjoy that. Still do. Thought you would agree.”
“I don't like people, but company keeps you aware. People survived by staying in a pack.”
“No need for gangs in the Geldstraat, Kaz.”
Kaz shook his head, “You need them more in a place like this. It’s when you get comfortable that you're at your weakest.”
When Kaz had arrived, he'd given Wylan fifteen minutes to agree and get ready for the job. It had already been ten since then, but there seemed to be no rush.
Wylan wrapped his arms around his body, trying to offer the comfort that he knew Kaz had grown up without, and waited patiently to meet his eyes again. “I have the greatest security–”
“I got in,” Kaz interrupted, glancing again toward the door.
“Because you’re Kaz Brekker.”
“If I got in, anyone just as skilled could do so as well.”
Wylan reached around and tugged on his tie, pulling it toward him to force Kaz to turn his way. Kaz stood confidently, speaking steady and unperturbed despite the concerns that were implied in his words.
“Kaz–”
“I should be going.”
Of course, at the first sign of vulnerability, Kaz was running. They hadn't properly set the scene. Wylan released his tie and took a step back.
“I'll wait for you.”
Kaz nodded, eyes still downcast, before turning and limping out the door.