Work Text:
“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him,” Kuwei drawls, crossing his arms over his chest.
Wylan barely disguises a huff as he flashes a smile at the family walking past them to the leafcutter ant exhibit.
Kuwei outright snickers at the sight. Maybe Wylan’s less subtle than he thought. Or Kuwei’s just an ass.
Probably both, really.
“There’s supposed to be ten thousand visitors today,” Wylan says. “Good luck trying to find the guy.”
Kuwei snorts. “Odds could be worse,” he replies. Wylan shrugs because he's right, he supposes—according to their supervisor, the American Museum of Natural History can receive up to twenty-three thousand guests in a day during the summer months. Ten thousand is a slow day, all things considered.
“What time is it?” he asks instead of responding. Before Kuwei can pull out his phone to check, a familiar chime rings out over the PA system, announcing that the museum will be closing in thirty minutes.
Kuwei grabs his clipboard from where it had been propped up against the silkworm display case. “Time to be free from you,” he says, starting toward the exit.
Wylan rolls his eyes, quickening his pace to catch up to the other boy before he reaches the door to the staff elevator first and leaves Wylan alone on the first floor. “I’m going to report you for creating a hostile work environment,” he grumbles when he catches the door just before it closes behind Kuwei.
Kuwei cocks an eyebrow at him. “You do that and I show them the messages about wanting to rob Gems & Minerals,” he says.
“The necklace was from my mom’s family,” he huffs. “The Van Eck stuff can stay there forever for all I care.”
“It’s all still the museum’s responsibility now,” Kuwei says with a shrug, making Wylan scowl. “Hey, it’s not my fault your dad’s a ‘generous benefactor of the museum,’” he quotes with an exaggerated wave of his hand.
‘Generous’ is better phrased as ‘vindictive,’ given that he’s sure the reason his father struck the deal to display the piece was to avoid having to give it to Wylan—but he supposes that story wouldn’t go over as well with guests.
The elevator dings as the doors creak open again.
“I hope another baby pees on the floor during your shift,” Wylan says. Then, because he’s closer to the door, he hits the ‘close door’ button again and darts out before Kuwei can move. As he bolts for the break room, he hears Kuwei’s disgruntled squawk behind him, yelling something about hoping the insects break out on his shift.
Later, when Kuwei shoots him a death glare on his way out of the break room, Wylan giggles. Ghezen, he loves his job.
The next afternoon, Wylan starts his shift in the Discovery Room. He’s busy showing a child their live dart frog when his phone buzzes in the pocket of his work apron, catching him by surprise—the only person who regularly texts him is Kuwei, who, as far as Wylan knows, is supposed to be on shift in Gems & Minerals right now.
He ignores the message, launching into an explanation of how poison dart frogs in the wild are toxic because of their diet, and that captive bred ones often lack those same toxins, when his phone buzzes again.
Wylan smiles at the kid, then excuses himself to a corner to glance at the screen. He does a double take at the sight of a blurry photograph of the man he and Kuwei had spoken to at the start of their Insectarium shift yesterday—this time, he’s dressed in a baffling combination of an off-the-shoulder neon purple top and traffic cone orange leggings, arguably a step down from the flashy gold suit from yesterday, but it’s most certainly the same guy. Kuwei has sent an audio message with the photo that Wylan is lifting to his ear without thinking twice.
“Guess who came back for more,” Kuwei’s smug voice lilts through the speaker, louder than Wylan had been expecting. He fumbles the phone, shoving it back in his pocket before one of his other coworkers—the responsible ones—see.
He tries to get back to work, welcoming another family into the room and pointing out the drawers of touchable items, but his thoughts wander back to that man; he’d been the one to stop Wylan in the hall, a departure from the norm of having to approach people himself.
“And here I thought the art museum was across the park,” he’d remarked, giving Wylan a look up and down.
“It is,” Wylan had replied, blinking. “If you mean the Met, at least—the New York Historical Society Museum is also—”
Kuwei had chosen to interrupt with a snort, saying, “We’re meant to be facilitating this museum, bug boy.” Wylan had slanted him a glare but the man had just laughed.
“No, no, I love a man who knows his stuff,” he’d said. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about—oh, what was it, Gems & Minerals?”
Kuwei brightened as Wylan gestured to the other side of the open building, saying, “It’s right over—”
“I can tell you whatever you want about that hall,” Kuwei practically purred, and Wylan rolled his eyes.
“We’re meant to be facilitating this hall, rock boy,” he mocked, gaining an annoyed glance for his remark.
In retrospect, they might have argued with each other more than they’d actually talked to the guest, but this matters less than the fact that the guy is apparently back at the museum for the second day in a row.
He supposes it’s not the weirdest thing he’s seen here—that honor belongs to the man sitting on the steps by the subway entrance, smoking a blunt with a rat with dyed red and blue fur on his shoulder—but it’s marginally more interesting than the baseline, at least.
A few minutes later, he receives another audio message from Kuwei, which Wylan remembers to put an earbud in for, this time. He smooths his hair down to make it less obvious that he has the earbud in, and hits play. “He asked, like, eight different questions about the special exhibit,” Kuwei’s message informs him. “Then he asked if you were working today, and—”
“Well, fancy seeing you here.” He startles as said guest quirks a smile at him, and Ghezen, winged eyeliner looks good on him, Wylan’s brain spits out instead of a coherent response.
He’s not sure how long he stands there gaping at the man—for his sanity, he hopes it’s less than a minute—before he puts Wylan out of his misery, prompting, “So, you work here and in the bug hall?”
Wylan shakes his head. “Yeah,” he ekes out, waving the man deeper into the room before one of the workers who manages the front desk hears. “Plus North American Forests, sometimes, but I usually only do one shift there a day even though it’s technically my secondary hall, since I like to ask for extra in the Insectarium,” he begins to ramble, for once wishing that Kuwei would show up to please shut him the fuck up. “Everyone’s required to do at least one shift in the Insectarium a day, unless, um, you’re deathly afraid of the bugs or something. I love them but some people get freaked out by the live ones.”
“That’s cool,” the man says. “I didn’t realize this place had so many live animals.”
Wylan nods, glad to have found a topic he actually has experience leading. “Yeah! We’ve got a skink and a gecko up on the second level if you want to see those,” he says, pointing at the stairs.
“Lead the way,” he replies with another easy smile that makes Wylan’s stomach flip.
He goes through his usual introduction to the room and its inhabitants, before he realizes in the middle of it that he’d never actually checked the man into the room. Not that he usually does that anyway—the front desk girl tends to get to the guests before him, since he spends most of his time by the animal tanks deeper in the room.
It’s not the biggest deal; the Discovery Room is technically still a free experience, after all, but he’s fairly sure there’s a pass that the man was meant to present that Wylan hasn’t seen. When he brings this up, the man raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t suppose you’re okay with me being your little secret, then, hm?”
Wylan sputters. “I—er, it should be fine,” he says, “as long as you’re not planning on robbing the place or something.”
The man hums, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Well, that’s a shame because I’m actually here to scope out the place for a big heist,” he says.
Wylan lets out a nervous laugh. “That explains why you’re back two days in a row, I guess,” he jokes.
“It’s a big place—needed the extra day to really take it in, you know?” he says.
Wylan nods. “And see if the guard schedule changes, I bet,” he says, fumbling to keep the back and forth going.
The man pauses, giving Wylan an odd look before leaning back and commenting, “You seem to have put a lot of thought into how you’d rob this museum for someone who works here.”
He thinks back to Kuwei’s comment from yesterday and lets out a somewhat strangled laugh. “No, it’s just—um, a normal thing to think about while working at a museum, y’know? Like sometimes I’ll look at the space between Ocean Life and Northwest Coast and think, ‘wow, that would be a good hiding place if you wanted to hide from the guards overnight because I don’t think they really check that area.’ Y’know?” He finds his voice unintentionally rising as he speaks, and when he finally cuts himself off, it’s with an embarrassing squeak of forced laughter.
The man hums. “Don’t worry, I won’t report you for conspiring against your workplace,” he says with a chuckle. “I am curious, though; is the space you’re talking about the one behind the second set of doors in the whale room that the guards get testy if you hang out near?”
“Oh, yeah, they don’t like guests poking around it,” he says, forcing his shoulders to relax. “I think it’s also locked but I don’t work in that area, so I wouldn’t have a key anyway. One of the Ocean Life people would probably know better.”
“Fascinating,” he says, leaning back. “Well, I must say, you’ve been a great help—” he squints at Wylan’s badge clipped to his apron, “—Wylan.”
“Thank you, uh—”
“Jesper,” the man says with a wink. “Do me a favor and keep that a secret too, though—can’t have that interrupting my heist plans, hm?”
Wylan laughs. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he replies.
Here’s the thing: when Jesper shows up a third day in a row, Wylan starts to think he might actually be doing something shady.
“What if he actually is here to rob the place?” he hisses to Kuwei, who doesn’t even deign to give him a verbal response, simply raising a terribly judgmental eyebrow at him. “I’m serious,” he says.
Kuwei takes a long sip of his drink, leaning back in his seat. Somehow, they’re the only ones in the break room right now, but that’s probably for the best, given the subject of their conversation. “I’d say you need to lay off the mystery novels if I didn’t know you’ve never opened one in your life,” he remarks.
“Kuwei!” he huffs. “Why else would he keep showing up?”
The look Kuwei gives him is the same one he sees the parents in the Discovery Room give their kids after they say something like ‘I bet I could fight an elephant and win,’ but Wylan doesn’t have time to be offended before he says, “I can’t believe I have to be the one to say this, but have you considered that he might somehow be into you?”
Wylan feels his cheeks turning red as he sputters, “What?”
Kuwei rolls his eyes. “Like I said before, I’ll take him if you don’t want him, but I think he might somehow see something in your whole—” he gestures up and down at Wylan, wrinkling his nose, “—thing, if he keeps showing up to talk to you.”
“Okay, you didn’t have to say it like that. And it would be totally unprofessional, anyway,” Wylan huffs.
“So you admit he is your type.”
Wylan crosses his arms. “I admit nothing,” he says, right as their supervisor walks back into the room with a steaming cup of coffee. The two of them lean back into their respective seats, returning to their phones—but not before Kuwei slants Wylan a shit-eating grin and mouths ‘You’re totally into him.’
Wylan just rolls his eyes and pops his earbuds in before Kuwei gets bold enough to tease Wylan about an unprofessional crush that does not exist in front of their boss.
Given that they only work three days a week, Wylan should have four full days free from Kuwei. ‘Should’ is, of course, the operative word here, because it’s Saturday and he’s standing in the lower level of a Trader Joe’s listening, unfortunately, to his roommate prattle on about his latest hookup misadventure.
He and Kuwei have had a simple check-in system for all dates and hookups ever since they moved in together. He supposes it could apply both ways, but with Wylan’s nonexistent love life it’s always gone one way. Wylan sends a question mark and Kuwei responds one of two ways: with a rock emoji—“like, this date rocks,” Kuwei had joked—meaning “all good,” or a paper emoji—“and paper covers rock, duh”—meaning “get me out of here.” Wylan had gotten a paper emoji at nearly midnight last night, and had called Kuwei frantically pretending to have set the apartment on fire.
It was a normal night, all things considered.
“Yeah, he was getting weird when we were at his place,” Kuwei says, tossing not one, not two, but three bottles of mango smoothie into the cart because his sweet tooth is somehow worse than Wylan's. “That’s why I got you to bail me out afterwards—but honestly, I wouldn’t have gone on an actual date with him because he was kinda stupid.”
Wylan snorts, turning the cart toward the snacks aisle. “Kuwei, you think everyone’s stupid.”
“Nah, this guy was worse than usual,” he says. “I mean, normally I don’t care if you don’t know what an igneous rock is if you’re into something else but I don’t think he did.” He shrugs. “He wasn’t a bad kisser but come on, even you’ve got more going for you with your bug thing.”
“Thanks,” he deadpans.
Kuwei waves a dismissive hand. “I wouldn’t date you either,” he says. “We’d kill each other before the third date.”
“I wouldn’t even go on two dates with you,” Wylan huffs, grabbing a bag of popcorn off the shelf and setting it on his side of the cart.
“Because you’re a loser and can’t handle this, yeah,” says Kuwei, gesturing at himself.
Wylan rolls his eyes. “Because I’d find a way to poison you before the end of the first date,” he retorts.
“So you’d agree to go on one,” Kuwei says, smirking. “First museum guy, now me—what, is our shitty HVAC making you wish for another body in your bed at night?”
“Ghezen’s hand,” Wylan grumbles, mad at himself for walking into that one. “You’re insufferable.”
Kuwei snorts. “Right back at you, bug boy.”
If Wylan’s being honest, while he’d still never date Kuwei, there is a reason he’s wormed his way into being the sole pillar of Wylan’s social life—he’s just always there. They’d been lab partners in Gen Chem during their freshman year of university, and begrudgingly bonded while coming up with their own shorthand for notes since Wylan couldn’t read and even though he’d been living in the country since senior year of high school, Kuwei still got tripped up by some of the chemistry-specific English words. Wylan knows he sometimes still uses that code too—he’s caught Kuwei scrawling familiar symbols in the margins of his hall facilitator guide.
He doesn’t think they’ve ever called each other friends but they’ve been talking for two years after no longer having any classes in common, and they’ve split a one bedroom since May, when their college announced it’d be tearing down the dorm they’d been living in, leaving them with the choice of moving into another dorm where they’d room with two strangers, or moving in together.
Wylan’s not sure if they’d be as close as they are—and really, he’d need a knife to his throat to call the two of them close—if either of them had other friends to bother, but he supposes it doesn’t matter at this point. Kuwei is the reason Wylan knows how to do his own laundry. Wylan is the reason Kuwei heard about the museum internship in the first place. They’re each other’s emergency contact in their phones—although, they’re both effectively orphans since Wylan’s father disowned him six years ago, so the options were limited to begin with. They look out for each other, even if they also threaten to murder each other at every turn.
So maybe Wylan trusts Kuwei a little, enough that it only takes a moment of weakness for him to pause, hand over a bag of frozen fruit, and blurt out, “Do you really think he was flirting with me?”
Kuwei laughs in his face, but replies, “Logically, Wylan, do you think it’s more likely that he’s a robber or that there’s actually someone on the planet who thinks you’re attractive?”
“The way you phrased that really makes it seem like robber is the right answer,” he huffs.
“Even my hookup could figure this one out,” Kuwei says, rolling his eyes.
Wylan rolls his eyes right back. “Didn’t you say he was asking weird questions in Gems & Minerals, though? I wasn’t even there for that.”
“If I assumed every weird question asked in that hall was someone plotting to steal the Star of India again, the cops would be getting called every day,” replies Kuwei. “Maybe the guy just likes shiny things—he dresses like it.”
“Which is why it’s weird that he likes me,” Wylan says, gesturing at himself in his plain brown sweater and jeans.
Kuwei shrugs. “Maybe he’s just got bad taste in men,” he says. Wylan glares at him. “Okay, well, if you’re mad about me saying that, then clearly you think you’re some sort of catch so I don’t see why you’re fishing for compliments from me.”
Wylan crosses his arms before realizing he still has to drive the cart. “You’re no help,” he says.
“Just flirt with the guy and see what he does if you’re that confused,” Kuwei groans. “If he turns you down, we say he’s a robber-in-the-making, and if he doesn’t, you get a hookup and I get a night away from you for once. It’s a win-win.”
Wylan pauses. “...Oh,” he says.
“You didn’t think about that before, did you?”
“Shut up.”
Next shift, someone spills a can of soda in Ocean Life, Wylan catches a child trying to open the display of the giant mosquito model, and Jesper shows up during his rotation in North American Forests.
Wylan’s not sure how Jesper keeps managing to track him down since he switches halls four times a day, but he supposes he did tell Jesper all the halls he works in, so it’s not impossible that he’s just checking all three options.
If he is looking for Wylan, of course. He could also be here for other reasons, Wylan reminds himself.
“I’m surprised you haven’t already seen the whole museum at this point,” Wylan remarks.
Jesper shrugs. “I’m just a thorough man, what can I say?”
Wylan hums. “Makes sense if you’re trying to make sure you don’t get caught,” he says, making Jesper pause for a moment.
“Caught?” he asks carefully.
“You know,” Wylan says, realizing in real time that flirting is not in his repertoire of skills, “for the robbery. That you’re planning.”
Jesper stares at him with wide eyes for a second too long before letting out a noise of realization. “Oh! Oh, yes, of course,” he says. “The robbery that I’m planning.” He shakes his head. “Well, Wy, don’t go shouting it from the rooftops, but yes, that’s precisely the reason I’m here.”
Wylan nods. “Of course, you wouldn’t just be here to see—” he hesitates a moment too long, trying to think of any positive adjective to describe himself before foregoing one entirely, “—uh, me?”
Ghezen, someone needs to shoot him.
Jesper cocks an eyebrow at him, considering. Wylan’s about to make up an excuse to bolt when he drawls, “I don’t know about that.” He takes a step closer to Wylan, gray eyes somehow sparkling even in the low light of the hall. “After all, I’m here now, aren’t I? Why else would I be here, if not to charm a certain dashing museum worker?”
Wylan opens and shuts his mouth before stammering, “You—you could be here investigating the freight elevator down to the backrooms?”
“Oh?’ Jesper raises an eyebrow at him.
“The freight elevator,” Wylan says, jabbing a finger at the elevator tucked into the corner next to the entrance to the Hall of Biodiversity. “You’d need a badge to run it, though.”
Jesper hums in thought. “Would yours work?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“I don’t think the intern badges work on those elevators,” he admits. “We can use the regular staff one to get down there, but I think only the regular staff can use the freight elevators.”
“A shame,” Jesper says. “Thought I’d have an excuse to take you hostage.” He winks, and Wylan can’t help the smile that twitches at the corner of his mouth.
“You’ll just have to keep running into me in the hall,” he says, mustering the courage to take a small step closer.
Jesper grins. “I suppose–”
“Jesper,” a brusque voice calls. Wylan jumps back as another man strides into the hall from the Biodiversity entrance, cane clicking as it taps against the floor. “Come on.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you came with friends,” Wylan laughs out nervously, trying not to flinch before this man’s severe stare. Frankly, he’s exactly what Wylan’s brain would conjure up if someone said to imagine a mafia boss.
Jesper clicks his tongue. “Just getting a lay of the land, boss,” he says. Then, to Wylan, he smirks and says, “I’ll catch you later, darling.”
Wylan steps deeper into the shadowy part of the hall to hide the blush that must be forming on his face as Jesper goes to join his friend, laughing all the while. His friend scowls and nods in the direction of the Ocean Life entrance as they walk, until turning out of Wylan’s sight.
After they do, Wylan glances around and, after ensuring no one is close enough to see, pulls out his phone to recount the interaction in a voice message to Kuwei. All he gets for his trouble is a rolling eyes emoji in response.
Wylan huffs, but part of him is still giddy about the whole conversation—he was flirting, he thinks. He was definitely flirting.
“Maybe he was just flirting because he felt bad for me?” he asks. Kuwei massages his temples, shooting Wylan a tired look.
“Saints, you’ve got it bad,” he says. “Did you really think he’d show up five shifts in a row?”
Wylan crosses his arms. “Well, he already did four,” he retorts.
“If he has enough free time to be stalking you five shifts in a row, then he’s too unemployed for you,” says Kuwei. “Have some standards.”
“You’ve literally spent the past week saying it’s a miracle anyone could be attracted to me,” Wylan deadpans.
Kuwei shrugs. “Well, yeah, I’m not trying to date you. I do have standards.” Wylan huffs. Kuwei says, “If you were really into him, you should’ve asked for his number.”
“I thought I’d have time to build to that!” he replies, a touch too loud for what is meant to be a private conversation in the middle of the Insectarium.
Kuwei snorts. “Look, he knows where to find you, right? If he wants to see you again, it’ll happen.” Then, quickly, he adds, “Now go look like you’re talking to that kid—I think that’s the director at the end of the hall.”
Wylan makes a startled noise and turns to the child staring in wonder at the leafcutter ant exhibit as Kuwei stalks off to talk about the silk worms nearby. He clears his throat, slipping back into his work voice. “Did you know these ants…”
In the end, the fifth time he meets Jesper answers all his questions.
“I can explain,” Jesper says, somehow still alarmingly attractive in the museum janitor’s navy blue overalls.
They’re deep in the underbelly of the museum—the backrooms, as the interns like to call them. Wylan had been rushing to get out because his badge privileges technically only extend until seven in the evening, and he’d lost track of time sketching one of the dioramas in North American Forests. He’d made it up to the break room before the seven o’clock sweep started, but had only reached the staff elevator by the time the hour changed. Hoping to avoid the guards sweeping upstairs, he’d decided to walk beneath the museum to get to the subway exit, bringing him to this moment.
Normally, he wouldn’t bat an eye at seeing a janitor here, even at this hour, but because it’s Jesper, alarm bells are going off in his brain.
“I thought this place was so cool, I just had to get a job here,” Jesper is saying, but Wylan knows enough about the museum bureaucracy to know there’s no way they hired anyone in a timely manner; Wylan had initially assumed they’d thrown his application in the trash because it had taken so long for them to get back to him after the first round of screening. And even then, he’d needed an extra week to get a badge because he’d needed to get fingerprinted for it.
Jesper is still rambling when Wylan cuts him off, burying his face in his hands as he says sullenly, “I actually thought you liked me. I’m so fucking stupid.”
Jesper makes a noise of alarm, abandoning his cleaning cart to take a step closer to Wylan. “Saints,” he swears under his breath. “Believe me, love, I like you very much—”
“You’re just here to rob the museum,” Wylan huffs, admittedly a bit petulant-sounding because he’s not brain dead; even if he can’t read, the writing on the wall is clear.
“I mean, yes,” Jesper says, “but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t also love to take you out afterwards. Provided you don’t call the cops on us.”
“There are more of you?” Wylan blurts out, and both he and Jesper wince in unison.
Jesper says, “Okay, probably shouldn’t have said that part, but I promise, we’re good, honest robbers,” he says. “The pieces we’re after aren’t even technically owned by the museum! They’re on loan from some asshole rich guy—”
“The Van Eck Collection?” he interrupts because there’s only one special exhibit he knows of that matches that description. The gears in his head are turning now.
Jesper nods. “The owner runs a health insurance company,” he says with a scoff. “I mean, name one of those that isn’t corrupt, right?”
Wylan can’t help the snort that comes out in response to that. “Trust me, I know,” he mutters, a plan beginning to form in his head.
“Exactly!” Jesper beams. “So, you keep your pretty mouth shut about seeing me here, evil guy gets what’s coming to him, and we all live happily ever after,” he says.
Wylan makes a show of humming in thought. “And what’s in it for me?” he asks. “Not even going to try bribing me to be silent?”
Jesper raises an eyebrow. “You want a cut?”
“Well, first I want you to make sure I don’t get pinned for this since I’m here right now,” he says. “But also, I want a piece.” Wylan lifts his chin and takes a step forward. “There’s a necklace in that collection—a rose gold one with emeralds in it.”
Jesper whistles. “Expensive taste for a first date gift, I’ll give you that much,” he says.
“It belonged to my mother,” Wylan says, biting back a smirk as he watches Jesper freeze. “She meant for it to be passed down to me but my father got his lawyers to find some sort of loophole in her will so that it wound up here instead.”
“Your father…”
“Jan Van Eck,” Wylan finishes with a shrug. “He disowned me when I was sixteen. You can have all the stuff from his side of the family, but I want the necklace.”
Jesper makes a contemplative noise, before his walkie talkie suddenly crackles to life. “Tell the rich kid he can have the necklace if he stops holding up the plan,” a low voice says. “We’ve got twelve minutes before the next sweep happens.” Jesper cocks an eyebrow at Wylan questioningly.
Wylan’s stepping forward with his hand outstretched before the walkie talkie shuts off again. “The deal is the deal,” he says.
Jesper slants him a crooked grin. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Two days later, the museum is closed for investigation.
Despite Jesper having literally told Wylan that he was planning to rob the museum, his crew’s work is frighteningly thorough. The camera footage from the night of the robbery has been mysteriously corrupted, and reportedly, the cops are at a loss about it. Wylan’s father has appeared on multiple news channels, and while he never raises his voice, Wylan can hear him seething through the screen.
That alone is a priceless sight, but the real reward is, of course, his mother’s necklace, which Wylan receives in a package addressed to him that Kuwei brings in from the mailbox. Kuwei, who is sitting across from him at the dining table when he opens this because Wylan had assumed it was the art supplies he’d ordered last week, only raises an eyebrow when Wylan pulls out a twenty-carat emerald necklace with a sticky note attached to it.
“Um,” he says dumbly, wondering if there’s a remotely plausible excuse he can pull out of his ass here.
Kuwei reaches over and plucks the sticky note off the necklace. He clears his throat and tells Wylan, “It says, ‘As promised. Signed, your favorite guest,’ and there’s a phone number written below it.” He wrinkles his nose. “Seven-one-eight area code, though.”
“You moved here in the twelfth grade—what do you know about area codes?” Wylan huffs without thinking. He snatches the sticky note back from Kuwei, pulling out his phone. “Anyway, it’s probably—” he pauses, realizing he probably shouldn’t finish that sentence.
“A burner?” Kuwei guesses, cocking an eyebrow at Wylan. When Wylan doesn’t immediately respond, he laughs. “Saints, I can’t believe you actually bagged a hot criminal, I’m kind of impressed.”
Wylan says, “You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”
Kuwei chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “I wouldn’t have given the guy your schedule if I was just gonna sabotage you at the end, relax,” he says.
“You what?”
For the sake of everyone involved, Wylan and Jesper’s first date is not a museum visit—although, the conversation inevitably wraps back around to the place, anyway.
“You’ve never been to a vivarium?” Wylan asks, already trying to remember the instructions his supervisor had given for requesting free tickets on someone’s behalf—he’s only been to the natural history museum’s butterfly exhibit a few times since it’s relatively new, but it’s his favorite of the exclusive exhibits by far. “Never?”
Jesper raises an eyebrow. “Nah, but I grew up on a farm so I’ve seen a bit more nature than a lot of folks,” he says.
Wylan shakes his head. “Next date, I’m taking you to the museum’s one,” he insists. “There’s so many more types there than what you’d see by growing up in one area.”
A fond little smile worms its way across Jesper’s face. “Oh, already planning our next date, huh?” he asks.
“You—” Wylan pauses, choosing his words, “—got my mom’s necklace for me. She’s the one who got me into butterflies and insects in the first place so it just—it feels right to share it with you,” he explains with a shrug.
Jesper softens. “I’d love nothing more,” he says.
Wylan opens his mouth to respond when his phone buzzes: it’s a simple question mark from Kuwei.
It’s crazy, Wylan thinks, that he’s listening to a wanted criminal promise to go on a vivarium date with Wylan and the thought that Jesper could be anything but sincere hasn’t crossed his mind.
Well, it's probably not the weirdest first date the city's seen, he supposes. At least there are no dyed rats involved.
Smiling, Wylan opens the emoji menu and sends Kuwei a rock emoji. Then, he looks back up at his date and asks slyly, “Do you want to take this somewhere else?”