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Jesper wakes just past midnight to find their throw blanket missing and Wylan’s side of the bed empty.
Immediately his mind jumps to every worst possible scenario—Wylan’s been kidnapped, Wylan’s out on a job that Jesper forgot about, or he just...walked out.
He knows none of these to be true (well, except maybe about the job. Who knew what Kaz was getting Wylan up to these days) but against his better judgement, he pulls on a shirt and begins to scour the halls of the big mansion in search of his boyfriend.
He checks the music room, even though there’s no sound coming from it. He checks the kitchen, checks both pantries and checks the cellar. Wylan is nowhere to be found.
Then Jesper passes by the foyer and finds the front door wide open. That’s unlike Wy, he thinks to himself. Wylan doesn’t ever leave doors wide open—he always made sure they were firmly shut, even going as far as locking them. He would certainly never leave the front door completely open.
Jesper realizes then that he’s left his revolvers in their bedroom. If there was any danger and he couldn’t help Wylan in time—
A small mewling noise breaks his thoughts.
It’s barely audible, but it was silent enough that he could hear it. Jesper frowns and walks out the front door.
Wylan is sitting on the porch step wrapped in their throw blanket, back hunched over something in his lap.
“Wy?”
“Shhh,” says Wylan immediately. “You’ll scare her.”
“Scare who?”
Wylan doesn’t respond.
Jesper steps closer and peers over his shoulder.
A wriggling ball of black fur lays gently in Wylan’s arms.
“Saints, is that a cat?”
Wylan shushes him again. On cue, the thing in his arms opens its eyes to reveal a brilliant blue. The cat stares at Jesper and meows.
Immediately, Jesper’s heart swells ten times. The thing is so little, trembling, but fits perfectly against his chest. It’s terribly endearing, and Jesper watches Wylan carefully stroke his fingers over the cat’s fur. His stomach flips and somehow he finds himself loving this boy more than he thought was possible.
“She’s so small,” Wylan whispers, mouth parted in awe at the creature he’s holding. Jesper quietly sits down beside him, pressing their shoulders together in the way they naturally do. The cat notices this new presence and meows again.
“Hello, darling,” Jesper says to the cat, his voice becoming soft. It reminds him a bit of the way he’d talk to the animals back on the farm. He cautiously brings his hand to its head, feeling the smooth fur. “Aren’t you a precious thing?”
“I heard her scratching at the door.” Wylan lets out an amused huff as the cat shifts its position; it doesn’t make any move to leave his arms. “All the way in the bedroom, I thought I heard something, so I came down to investigate.”
“You should’ve woke me up in that case,” Jesper tells him. “It could’ve been bait. Still could be bait.”
“She’s not bait,” he says stubbornly. “I came out here and she immediately came up and nuzzled against my legs. She was shivering in the cold, so I picked her up. And I’ve been holding her ever since.”
The cat purrs lowly, her body shuddering with the force of it. She nudges her head against Wylan until she’s resting in the crook of Wylan’s neck.
“Hey, that’s my spot,” Jesper complains, and Wylan laughs. “See, she already knows the best places to lay.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You think I’m charming.”
Wylan strokes along the cat’s spine, then leans over and kisses Jesper’s temple. “Infuriatingly so. Although I think this cat here might have you beat—oh!”
At that moment, the cat suddenly bounds out of Wylan’s grasp and into the grass.
“Aw,” Wylan pouts. This time, Jesper’s the one to laugh.
“She’s a stray, love, she’s probably going to bother the next mercher’s house.”
Wylan’s head cocks to one side, eyes fixed firmly on a spot in the distance. Then without a word, he stands up, wraps the blanket around himself, and disappears into the house in a hurry.
Jesper shakes his head. “He’s spending too much time around Kaz.” Though he’ll never admit it out loud, he’s grown increasingly fond of the way Wylan’s mind works, able to conjure up a complex plan in a split second. He’s always been able to do that, and it never ceases to amaze him. Wylan stubbornly argues that Kaz has absolutely no influence on him, but the longer the two scheme together, the more and more alike they seem. Whenever Wylan gets that focused, far-away look in his eyes, Jesper swears that he gets impossibly more attracted to him by the second.
He returns moments later with a flat can in his hands. He plops back down next to Jesper and pops it open.
“Wylan.”
“Jesper.”
“You don’t seriously mean to feed a stray cat.”
“She’s probably hungry!” Wylan argues. “I can leave it out for her when she comes back.” He sets the open can of fish down on the porch beside him.
“What, so you’re just going to wait for her all night?”
“She might come back.” He pouts slightly, sticking out his lip and Jesper laughs.
Wylan stubbornly stays on the porch, humming softly into the night. He stays with him, because Wylan is warm and it’s chilly out. Like the wonderful boyfriend he is, Wylan notices and throws the blanket around both of their shoulders. Jesper hums contentedly and snuggles further into Wylan’s side.
“Come back to bed, Wy.”
“In a few minutes.”
“Wy, it’s cold,” he whines.
“No it’s not, you baby.” But Wylan adjusts and wraps his arm around him, completely enveloping Jesper in his warmth. He feels very warm, indeed.
Wylan begins talking in a hushed tone about the composition he’s working on. He still won’t tell Jesper what it’s called yet, but he’s heard him play it a few times. There’s a sort of melancholy to it, some mystery, but it’s also hopeful. Like the sun peeking out through the dark clouds. Jesper adores it, adores Wylan. Adores Wylan now, in the way that he’s speaking just loud enough so Jesper can hear him. Slowly, he finds himself being lulled to sleep at the soft rumble of his voice, his head slowly laying on Wylan’s shoulder and settling in the crook in Wylan’s neck. Sleepily, to himself, he smiles.
He feels like the luckiest man in the world.
Both of them are jostled awake—Wylan’s cheek had ended up squished against Jesper’s hair—by a soft thump on their porch.
Wylan’s back straightens instantly, already on high alert. Jesper takes a bit longer to rouse himself (he’s truly allowed himself to let his guard down around this boy, he realizes), but he peers around Wylan and gasps.
“Wy,” he says, tugging the blanket, “look.”
At Wylan’s side, the cat has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Its head is tilted to one side, blue eyes studying them quizzically.
“Oh,” he says. He casts a glance up at the awning, then down at the cat. “Did you just fall from the roof?”
“How did she even get up there in the first place?” Jesper adds. “That has to be at least 20 feet.”
When Wylan laughs, Jesper feels it more than he hears it. “She reminds me of Inej.”
A small sadness fills his chest. “I miss her.”
“Me too.” Wylan gently nudges the still-open can of fish towards the cat. Hesitantly, the cat pads forward, inspecting it. She gives it an experimental lick before eating from the can in earnest. “We can call her Inej in the meantime.”
The cat looks up in response. She meows in agreement.
Jesper barks a laugh. Inej the cat dutifully goes back to eating her canned fish.
“Hey, Wylan?” Jesper shouts from the front door.
“Yes, love?”
“We have a problem!”
“Okay, give me two seconds—”
“I don’t think this can wait two seconds—”
“If you rush me, I swear to Ghezen I’m going to replicate the damage to the dining room ceiling to the basement.”
Jesper groans. “Okay, fine, but hurry up!”
One minute later, Wylan is standing at his side at the front door, goggles pushed up his forehead so his hair is sticking out in every possible direction. He follows Jesper’s gaze where it’s fixed on the porch. “Oh Ghezen.”
“I told you.”
“When you said we had a problem I thought it would be serious.”
“This is serious!” Jesper says incredulously.
“In what way?”
“Twenty cats showing up at our front door isn’t serious to you?”
The twenty cats in question stare up at them. Wylan and Jesper stare back.
The cat they’d named Inej sits proudly at the front of the group. She meows at them. Every other cat meows in response, turning their front porch into a chorus of caroling felines.
Wylan huffs. “Okay, yeah, this is a serious problem.”
“You should’ve thought of that when you fed Inej the other night.”
“Inej?”
Jesper points at the black cat. “Inej. The cat that you named.”
He blinks and stares at Inej. Then his eyes rove through the sea of energetic cats on their porch, and finally, his cheeks redden. “I fed one cat!” he cries, realizing the gravity of the situation. “One cat!”
“Wy, darling, I grew up on a farm,” Jesper says calmly. “If you feed one cat, you’ll end up feeding its entire lineage.”
Wylan presses the heel of his palms to his temples. “I didn’t even know there were this many cats in this part of Ketterdam!” Jesper can’t help the laugh that comes out of him at seeing his boyfriend so riled up because of the cats. Two little striped kittens, one brown and one orange, stumble their way onto Wylan’s foot, and he only laughs harder. Wylan’s fingers grip into his hair and he whips around, startling the poor kittens, growing increasingly exasperated. “This isn’t funny!”
“It kind of is, love.”
He splutters, gesturing nonsensically at the wriggling kittens on their porch. “Jesper, I have a concoction to give to Kaz by nine bells tonight and I’ve barely even started. I can’t deal with twenty strays!”
“Then let me handle it,” Jesper says, gently taking Wylan’s wrists and pulling his hands away from his hair, placing them against his chest. Wylan begins to calm his breathing, feeling the rise and fall of Jesper’s chest and the beating of his heart. “You go back to finishing whatever the hell Kaz wants you to make, and I’ll handle the cats.”
He nods, his eyes still not quite focused. Carefully, Wylan bends down and offers his palms to the two baby kittens that had climbed his foot. Eagerly, the kittens hop into each of his palms. Wylan holds them up to his face as gingerly as he would a baby and beams. “Sorry I got mad about you guys,” he says softly. “You’re all awfully cute. It’s a shame we can’t keep all of you.”
Jesper falls more and more in love with Wylan. “Well, we could.”
Wylan’s look of awe immediately drops and he side-eyes Jesper. “We are not keeping twenty cats in our house.”
Our house. “But we could.”
Wylan sighs, but the smile creeps back into his face. “We’ll keep them fed, then, at least.”
He shrugs. “Okay. Where are we getting enough food for twenty strays?”
“The pantry,” Wylan says simply. “There’s still plenty of canned fish in there.”
“And if we run out?”
“We’re rich, Jesper, remember?” Wylan says with a sly smile. “My father never let me have any pets anyway. Consider this a massive ‘fuck you’ to him.”
“Ah, right. Merchling, and all that.” Wylan shoots him a glare, but there’s no malice behind it. The two kittens in his palm begin to scale up his arms, determined little meows escaping them as they make the climb. The orange one sits proudly on his shoulder while the brown one tugs at his hair in an attempt to get on top of his head. “Oh, no no no, darling, no pulling my Wylan’s hair,” Jesper chides, plucking the kitten off of Wylan. He feels a tug, and looks down to see three cats trying to climb up his legs.
“Ghezen, all of these cats are climbers, aren’t they?” Wylan remarks, grabbing the orange kitten off of his shoulder. It meows in protest.
“They’re all like her.” He holds the brown kitten in outstretched arms. “I’ll name this one Inej.”
“Jesper,” Wylan says, like he’s talking to a child, “we already have a cat named Inej.”
“And this one’s Inej, and this one’s also Inej, and that one—”
“We can’t name all of the cats Inej.”
“Yes we can,” says Jesper. “They’re all Inej now.”
“Don’t I get a say in this?” asks Wylan. He shoves his kitten into Jesper’s face. “You could at least name this one after me. See, he’s got my hair and everything.”
Jesper studies the kitten, which he will admit does look like Wylan, with wild orange fur and beady blue eyes. But ultimately, he shakes his head. “Nope. We’re naming this one Inej too.”
“He’s literally the spitting image of me!” When Jesper doesn’t give, Wylan gives an annoyed huff, but he can tell that he’s not truly mad. “Okay, fine. Every cat is Inej. You win.”
“Rejoice!” Jesper crows dramatically. He kisses Wylan on the cheek. “I knew I’d win your heart.”
Wylan laughs brightly, then passes the Wylan-kitten—Inej, he reminds himself—to Jesper. “Here.”
“Wh—Wylan!”
“I’m going to get the cat food. Don’t go anywhere.”
Wylan leaves Jesper standing dumbly at their front door, two cats in his hands, four now at his feet, and a whole army in front of him.
As bewildered and annoyed at the cats Wylan was, Jesper had noticed a childlike wonder appear in his eyes when he’d picked up the baby kittens. He didn’t get to have this as a kid, but now he owns this house and twenty strays had decided they found comfort on its front porch. Wylan has never looked so happy.
Jesper decides that maybe looking after twenty kittens isn’t so bad after all.
The cats slowly started making themselves at home on their front porch. As the days went on, Wylan made it a part of his daily routine to feed them. Jesper was so ridiculously endeared by him finding simple joy in this task, and honestly, he surprised himself every day with how terribly smitten he was for Wylan. He isn’t exactly sure what about Wylan taking care of cats is so attractive to him, yet here he is.
He also swears that every day they gain at least one more cat.
There’s so much meowing. Jesper never considered how much meowing he’d have to endure. He could be practicing Fabrikating in the living room, and if he was deep enough in concentration, a litany of meows would cut through the silence. It’s cute, but there is so much meowing.
Wylan doesn’t seem to mind too much at first, his excitement over their twenty-something new pets getting the best of him. Most days when Wylan would come home after hours of boring meetings, Jesper could hear Wylan on the porch greeting the kittens with a bright “Hello, little Inejs!” and giving them head scratches and cooing and sweet-talking them.
“You’re taking this really seriously,” Jesper says one morning, leaning against the doorframe.
A chorus of high-pitched meows echo around Wylan’s feet, demanding his attention. He obliges, scooping up Inej (the black one with blue eyes) and Inej (a tabby with white paws). It’s alarming how much of a natural Wylan is at this already. “Apparently Dryden is stepping down indefinitely. Remember that…ah, ‘medical emergency’ he had last month?” He looks between the two cats in his arms, sticking out his lips in a mock-serious face. “You didn’t happen to hear about that, did you, Inej?”
Wylan is really good at playing with the cats now.
Jesper laughs fondly. “Well, good riddance to him, then. I didn’t much like him.”
One of the cats swats Wylan in the face. “You don’t like any of the councilmen, Jesper.”
“There’s only one council member that I like.”
Wylan glances up at him through his eyelashes and his cheeks pink. He grins at him, and Jesper is overwhelmed by the sight of his cute boyfriend carrying two cute cats in arm. He isn’t sure what he imagined his life would be like after…everything, but he can’t argue against raising cats with the boy who is already becoming the love of his life.
The following evening, they’re paid a visit by Kaz, who for once decides to use the front door instead of his secret tunnel after Wylan’s incessant nagging.
He also, for once, doesn’t let himself in. He announces his presence by the sharp rap of his cane against the door.
“He’ll chip the paint,” Wylan grumbles, but the two of them get up to open the door for him anyway.
“Wylan, Jesper, you better hurry up.”
“Ghezen, fine, we’re coming.” Wylan opens the door and Jesper hovers over his shoulder. The sight before him makes him bark out a laugh.
Kaz Brekker stands in the middle of a crowd of kittens. The two things are so contrasting, it’s almost comical. Darkness and gloom personified meets sunshine and rainbows personified (cat-ified?).
“What is the meaning of this?” he demands in lieu of greeting.
“I see you’ve met Inej,” Wylan says in lieu of answering.
The mention of Inej’s name makes the tension release from Kaz’s shoulders for a split second. “I beg your pardon?”
“Our cats. Named Inej,” Jesper supplies helpfully.
Kaz looks down at the cats. They all bustle around him, sniffing and evaluating their new acquaintance. He looks like he’s two seconds away from swatting at one with his cane. “You named a cat Inej.”
Wylan corrects him, “Cats. Plural.”
He takes a long breath. “So this cat,” he gestures with the end of his cane at the black one with blue eyes, “is named Inej?”
“Yes.”
“And this one?” He points at the orange one.
“Also Inej.”
“They’re all named Inej?”
“Didn’t we just tell you that?”
Jesper loves how easily amused he is by watching Kaz and Wylan bicker.
Kaz pinches his fingers at the bridge of his nose. “Why,” he says slowly, “in Ghezen’s name would you hoard over twenty cats on your porch and name them all after Inej?”
“Because it keeps things simple,” Wylan says easily. Kaz rolls his eyes. “Also, we miss her.”
The untrained eye would’ve missed it, but Kaz’s face softens the slightest bit. “You truly couldn’t have come up with anything else?”
“Well, that one there was the first one we met,” Jesper tells him, pointing at the cat, the original Inej, that’s pawing at Kaz’s cane. “She dropped out of nowhere from the roof and it reminded us of Inej, so Wylan named her that.”
“And he subsequently named every cat the exact same thing?”
“I didn’t.” Wylan points an accusatory finger at Jesper. “That was his idea.”
Kaz just sighs. “Of course it was.”
“Rude,” Jesper says. He’s about to say more, but then Kaz slowly bends down, removes his glove, and runs his thin fingers over Inej’s back. She purrs in delight, leaning into the touch. Then, in a way that looks almost practiced, Kaz scoops her up.
He and Wylan exchange glances. Kaz has begun whispering softly into the cat’s ear. Jesper can’t believe what he’s seeing. Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the owner of half the Barrel, is standing on their front porch holding and talking to a cat.
“Alright, we get it, you miss your sweetheart.”
Kaz’s eyes snap to Jesper. “Inej is not my sweetheart.”
“I never said anything about Inej,” says Jesper slyly. Wylan snorts with laughter. “The cat or the real person.”
The look Kaz gives him is near murderous. Wylan laughs even harder.
“Well, come on, Kaz, come in,” Wylan says, failing to suppress his giggles. “I know you didn’t come here to talk about our newest additions to the family.”
Kaz grumbles something under his breath and enters their house, but Inej the cat is still curled up in his arms.
Jesper gives Wylan a knowing look. He just shakes his head. “It’s whatever. He can hold her for the night.”
Two days later, Wylan comes crashing into their study, pink in the face, still in his mercher’s black. “Jesper, where’s Inej?”
He startles at Wylan’s entrance, taking in his disheveled appearance, and lowers his pen. “Somewhere on the northern coast of Ravka, last time I checked.”
“No—well, yes, that’s wonderful,” Wylan stresses, pulling at his tie. “I’m talking about the cat Inej.”
Jesper looks up. “Which one, Wy?” he says, only to be a little bit difficult.
“For Ghezen’s sake,” he grumbles, “the first one! The first cat we found. Black fur and blue eyes.”
He taps his pen against the paper and frowns. “Are you sure you can’t find her? She’s always climbing some random windowsill.”
“I counted.” Wylan slumps over the desk, his breaths short and erratic, and peers down at Jesper. Oh, so he’s serious. “We only have thirty-two cats. We’re supposed to have thirty-three.”
Jesper blinks slowly. “Since when did we have thirty-three cats?” He swears they had twenty-five just two days ago.
Wylan throws his hands up. “I don’t know, but we’re missing the original Inej.”
“Surely the thirty-two other Inejs can’t make up for her?”
“But she was the first one, Jes.” Wylan says sadly. “She’s really special to me.”
Jesper leans back in his chair. He can tell Wylan’s really distraught by Inej’s disappearance, worry creasing his features. “I could make missing posters. You could draw her if you remember what she looks like, and I’ll write it.”
“Can we even make missing posters for a stray?” asks Wylan. “I mean, we don’t actually own her, so she’s not technically ours.”
Jesper shrugs. “It could be worth a try. We can make the first poster together and then head over into the city to make copies of it.”
Wylan is quiet for a long moment. When he finally meets Jesper’s gaze, his eyes are misty and wet. “You’d do that for me?”
He takes both of Wylan’s hands in his and gently kisses his knuckles. “Yes, Wy, of course I will.” Anything for you, but those words catch at the end of his tongue.
His boyfriend smiles all the same. “Thank you, Jes.”
A week has passed and there’s still no sign of Inej. (The cat, that is.) Wylan still makes sure to feed the other cats, but his worry is still obvious. Jesper’s worried too, and every person who’s come up to them since putting up their posters tells them about one of their other cats instead.
Jesper and Wylan pay a visit to the Slat, invited by Kaz for ‘old time’s sake,’ but both of them know that he’s got a job lined up for them again. Obviously.
They'd put up their missing cat posters around the Barrel, too, but it hasn’t made much difference because all the posters have been ripped off and there are a dozen times more stray cats there than in the financial district. Jesper tries not to worry too much about it.
Upon entering the Slat, the rickety floors welcome them home. Even though Wylan hadn’t spent much time here previously, his shoulders still relax a bit.
Kaz provides them with drinks, then, with little ceremony, beckons them upstairs.
Jesper just sighs fondly. Typical Kaz.
In his office, the conversation ends up being between Wylan and Kaz, who are discussing his recent composition, of all things. They argue over the placement of some legato lines, which Jesper’s tasked to write. He only half follows the conversation, and Wylan’s growing slightly irritated because Kaz, you don’t know a single thing about music theory, this doesn’t make any sense and Kaz just says Music theory isn’t of my concern right now, Wylan, now is it still playable?
A scratching at the window makes them all freeze. Wylan pauses mid-sentence, his explanation about phrasing cut short. Both Jesper and Wylan tense at the intrusion, preparing for the worst, but Kaz just wordlessly reaches a hand out.
To both of their disbelief, a cat gracefully leaps onto his waiting arm.
It’s a black cat with bright blue eyes.
“Inej?” cries Wylan.
Jesper slams the pen down. “You podge, you had her the whole time?”
“We’ve been looking for her all week!”
“I know.” Kaz doesn’t seem at all bothered by their confusion. “Who do you think has been taking down all the posters in the Barrel?”
“For Ghezen’s sake.” Wylan buries his head in his hands. Jesper just stares at the cat, who is comfortably perched on Kaz’s arm.
“Kaz, if you wanted to adopt an Inej you could’ve just told us,” he says. “You didn’t have to rob us of a cat.”
“Surely your thirty-two other Inejs will be fine without this one.”
“Of course you counted them,” Jesper mutters under his breath.
Inej crawls up Kaz’s arm. “Now, your poster said there’d be a 200 kruge reward for anyone who finds her.”
“I’m pretty sure it was 150,” says Jesper. “Also, you didn’t find her. We’re not paying you for stealing our cat.”
“Jesper, I have the posters in my drawer. Do I really need to show you proof?”
Wylan mumbles something unintelligible. When nobody responds, he drags his hands down his face. “It was 200, Jesper, you literally wrote the poster.”
“You came up with the reward!”
He just waves a hand dismissively. “You know what, Kaz, it’s fine. You can keep her.”
Jesper looks at Wylan with surprise, and Kaz mirrors the expression with a raised brow.
“We quite frankly have so many cats, and all the meowing is causing noise complaints from our fussy neighbor,” he says. Which is true, Jesper can attest to that. “It’s also so many to handle. You can keep this Inej.”
“We know you miss the real Inej,” Jesper concedes. “Might as well have the cat version to remember her by.”
The gears turn in Kaz’s head. He doesn’t say thank you, doesn’t shoot back with an I don’t miss her that they all know is a lie, but they see it evidently in his face. Wylan smiles smugly.
“Well?” says Kaz. “The score still needs editing. Let’s get back to work.”
“You’re welcome, Kaz,” Jesper says sarcastically. Wylan just nudges him and tells him to pick up the pen.
The three of them pore over the sheet music for another hour, Inej the cat observing curiously. Even though the real Inej is actually a sea away, Jesper can’t help but feel like she’s watching over them all the same.