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„Wylan, if I had wanted your input on how to conduct a robbery, I would have asked for it. I will send for you when I have need for a demolitions man or your other uses.“
Kaz‘s blank, emotionless tone feels like a slap across Wylan‘s cheek. There‘s a loud ringing in his ears, almost deafening. Kaz was intimidating on a good day, Wylan knows this, and usually he has no trouble standing up for himself to the other man, but today he can‘t help but shrink into himself at the harsh words. The dismissal is apparent and sharp in the room, almost making the air crackle with tension.
Wylan‘s eyes flit to Jesper‘s grey ones across from him, only to find the sharpshooter already looking back at him with an apologetic expression. Not enough, Wylan thinks. Jesper‘s hands rest on his revolvers at his side almost casually, a gesture he‘s adapted over the years. Wylan knows it helps him stop fidgeting when he‘s unomfortable. Jesper regards him with a hint of apprehension, as if he‘s trying to assess the damage Kaz‘s verbal blow has dealt to Wylan‘s ego. Yet he remains still and sielnt by Kaz‘s side. Typical.
Wylan tucks his dishelved hair behind his ear and sqaures his chest, before shooting a glance at Inej, who at least has the decency to mouth a Sorry at him, and at Pim and Keeg, who immediately divert their eyes from Wylan‘s. What a bunch of cowards.
He turns on his heel and stalks out of the room, making it a point to leave the door wide open on his way out, simply because he knows it will iritate Kaz. He keeps his footsteps light on the creaking wood floor as he makes his way down the stairs, listening intently for someone following him. If he‘s honest with himself, he knows the tiny speck of hope in his chest is foolish and in vain, but he can‘t help but wish Jesper would finally stand up to Kaz, especially to take his boyfriend‘s side.
After their trip to Ravka, Wylan had fallen into his role as a Crow quite comfortably. He‘d worked on countless jobs with them, provided bombs and fire power for even more, and had generally felt like he belonged in this group. He‘d formed friendships with both Nina and Inej, Jesper and him had made it official on the ship back to Ketterdam, still high on adrenaline and each other, and even Kaz had been amicable, as far as the term applies to any mood of his. So to be shot down the way he had just now, it sucked. It left Wylan feeling stung and hurt and with reopened wounds from his past. A past he still had not disclosed to any of his crew, not even Jesper, though he suspects that Kaz definitely knows. That bastard knows everything.
Wylan pushes through the heavy doors out of the Slat and merges into the crowds of the Barrel, weaving through the streets towards his workshop. He feels his face burning hot and his eyes stinging with unshed tears and swipes a hand acorss his face to regain his composure. He wouldn‘t cry in public, his father had taught him better than that.
His father‘s words had been echoing through his mind like ghosts ever since Kaz‘s spat at the Slat. Useless, waste of space, a disappointment. Wylan feels his chest tigthen with dread, the collar of his button up shirt suddenly feels suffoctaing around his neck. At last, he stumbles into the door his makeshift base. He doesn‘t sleep here often anymore, opting to share Jesper‘s room at the Slat most nights these days, but he still does all of his chemical engineering and building here.
The door falls shut behind him, and he has half a mind to lock it before ripping off his jacket and tearing open the buttons of his shirt. He gulps in deep breaths and leans heavily against the wall at the top of the stairs that lead into the den. He can‘t quite banish his father‘s voice from his head. It‘s familiar though, the pain and the fear he feels when he thinks about his youth. What‘s new is the anger he feels in his throat. He‘s angry, at Kaz for being a dick, but more so at Jesper, for tolerating Kaz treating him like that. It‘s not just his silence just now, Wylan has come to understand that when Kaz says jump, Jesper will be the first one to ask how high, no matter the circumstance. Their dynamic has always struck him as a little odd, but he supposes it is not his place to judge. He would be lying to himself if he said it didn‘t bother him sometimes, the way Jesper would abandon any logic and thought to meet Kaz Brekker‘s often ridiculous terms.
He pushes of the wall after collecting himself for a minute, and gets to work. Busying himself to keep from spiraling has always worked for him, even when he was still a resident at his father‘s mansion.
——
The sun has since set on Ketterdam and his working den is illuminated by the soft glow of candles lit across table tops and shelves. Wylan sits on his creaky metal bed with his sketch book propped on his lap, his hand moving in rapid motions across the paper, when there‘s a soft knock at the door. He considers ignoring it for a moment, but he‘s fairly certain of who it is. He sighs and discards the sketchbook on the sheets before shuffling up to the landing. He twists the key and pulls open the door to reveal Jesper leaning against the doorframe with a crooked smile on his lips.
Wylan‘s traitorous heart clenches at the sight, picking up its pace. He hopes he succeeds at schooling his face into an unimpressed look before he turns and walks back down the stairs without a word, trusting that Jesper will follow. Sure enough, just as he moves to sit back down on the bed, a hand cricles his wrist and stops him in his tracks.
„Wy…“, Jesper murmurs as Wylan turns back around to face him. Jesper‘s face is illuminated in the soft candle glow, his features blurring wonderfully. He pulls his arm free from Jesper‘s grip, crossing both of his arms in front of his chest and staring at him expectantly.
„Wy, I - I‘m sorry about Kaz. You know how he gets.“
That makes Wylan scoff. „Oh, yeah Jes, that makes it better, thanks so much.“
Jesper‘s eyes widen and he instinctively takes a step towards Wylan, reaching out to take his hands in his. He doesn‘t pull away.
„Look Wy, I know… He shouldn‘t talk to you that way. Anyone, for that matter, but especially not you.“, his thumbs skate across Wylan‘s knuckles in a soothing motion and Wylan feels his resolve crack ever so slightly.
Still, he says quietly: „I just wish that you‘d stand up for me this way to him. Not that I need you to fight my battles for me, but it would be nice to count on my boyfriend‘s support in a situation like this.“
Jesper looks at him with an expression so tender Wylan has to avert his gaze to their joined hands between them. Jesper pulls his right hand away and lifts it to slide underneath Wylan‘s jaw carefully. Wylan meets his eyes again.
„Darling, I am always on your side. I was on your side back there too. I‘m sorry I didn‘t say anything. And I‘m sorry that he was such an asshole, you didn‘t deserve that.“, Jesper leans forward slowly, giving Wylan enough time to pull away if he wants to, and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Wylan‘s eyes flutter shut and he sighs again.
Pulling Jesper along with him, he finally sits back down on the bed with a creak. Jesper drops down next to him, close enough to place a hand on Wylan‘s thigh. Wylan‘s fingers find Jesper’s ring and begin to twist and play with them. He doesn‘t say anything for a moment, trying to find the right words. He wants to open up to Jesper, about everything, but he doesn‘t really know how.
„You know, my father was really upset with me for not being able to read. All my life, really. He‘d call me useless and sometimes he… well, he hurt me sometimes, when he got really frustrated.“, he says this barely above a whisper, feeling Jesper‘s eyes burn into the side of his head. He takes another deep breath.
„So, what Kaz said earlier, it… hit a bit of a mark for me.“
Jesper doesn‘t say anything for a while, doesn‘t move from his spot next to Wylan. Wylan refuses to look at anything but their intertwined hands. It feels like he‘s peeled back a layer of himself, he feels exposed and raw and relieved. It‘s not the whole truth, but it‘s a start.
„Darling, can you look at me please?“, Jesper‘s voice is so impossibly soft. Wylan obliges and slowly looks up to meet Jesper‘s gaze. His grey eyes shine brightly with a watery sheen.
„Thank you for telling me. I- I don‘t really know what to say other than your dad is a piece of shit, Wy.“ Wylan snorts, and Jesper smiles at him briefly. „No one here thinks you‘re useless, not even Kaz. Otherwise you wouldn‘t be a Crow. You‘re the smartest person I know, Wy, you have nothing to be ashamed of.“
Jesper‘s hand comes up to card through Wylan‘s hair and Jesper‘s callous fingers press into his scalp soothingly. Wylan leans into the touch and lets his forehead drop to Jesper‘s shoulder. He feels Jesper plant a kiss in his hair. There is a stinging in his eyes he can‘t quite shake. His nose finds the crook of Jesper‘s neck and he swings his leg over Jesper‘s lap to straddle him as he deeply inhales the scent of his warm skin. He smells like jurda with a faint hint of gun smoke. It‘s Wylan‘s favorite smell in the whole world.
Jesper‘s arms circle his waist and pull him tightly to his chest, one of his hands sliding up to brush through Wylan‘s curls as he lets him quietly cry into his neck. His deep voice murmurs soothing nonsense into his ear and Wylan can‘t really recall what he was wound up about now, in the arms of the man he loves.
His eyes fly open as the realisation settles into the base of his skull. He loves Jesper, even with his stubborn loyalty and impulsiveness. He tigthens his arms around Jesper‘s neck and sniffles into the collar of his shirt. The moment feels too vulnerable, too raw with emotion as it is, and still those three words sit on the tip of his tongue.
Eventually, he peels his face from the safety of Jesper‘s neck and finds Jesper searching his face with a tenderness caressing his features that makes his eyes well up again. Before he can say anything, he surges forward to press his lips to Jesper‘s urgently. It earns him a surprised grunt, and then Jesper is meeting him just as feverently. Wylan feels like he‘s drowning, so he pulls back and leans his forehead agaisnt Jesper‘s gently, panting into the space between them.
„Hey Jes?“
„Yes, love?“, Jesper nuzzles their noses together, making a giggle burst from Wylan‘s throat. His cheeks are burning red. He moves back to look at Jesper again, his hand sliding into the tight curls at the nape of his neck.
„I‘ll tell you tomorrow.“, he promises and meets Jesper in another kiss.