Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“You need to take Wylan home.”

Jesper glanced up from his hand of cards, shooting a baffled glance at Nina, who had abruptly appeared over his shoulder.

“What? Why?”

“He’s super drunk,” Nina murmured back in a hushed tone, resting her manicured hand on his shoulder. “And I mean like, really, really drunk.” 

Jesper stared at her blankly. The man sitting next to him cleared his throat, bringing Jesper back to reality, and Jesper checked. He wasn’t going to win, but what was one more lost game in the scheme of things?

“Wylan doesn’t get drunk,” Jesper said slowly. “He never has more than like… two drinks.”

“Not tonight,” Nina muttered. “You know I love to have fun, but I’m seriously concerned that he’s going to end up with alcohol poisoning. I think it might have something to do with–” she lowered her voice conspiratorially– “his father.”

Jesper’s brows furrowed. He checked again, to groans of varying annoyance emitting from the men playing with him.

“Why can’t one of you take him home?”

“We’ve all drunk too much. Matthias and I were going to take a cab home. But you’re not drunk, and you own a car,, so you can drive.” Jesper nodded thoughtfully.

“You make a fair point, Zenik. Don’t want to get a DUI, do you?”

“Exactly,” Nina said agreeably. Jesper sighed, wincing slightly. 

“Nina, I’m in the middle of a game, I can’t just–”

A familiar face appeared from behind Nina.

“Jesperrrrrr! Heyyyyy!” giggled Wylan. His pale face was rosy, presumably from the alcohol, and Matthias was gripping onto his arm tightly with an exhausted expression on his chiseled face. Wylan wriggled out of the blond’s tight grasp and threw himself at Jesper, half ending up in his lap with his arms haphazardly strewn around his shoulders. Jesper gasped in surprise, trying desperately to keep his balance and prevent himself–and Wylan– from toppling out of the chair. 

“Saints,” Jesper murmured to himself, casting Nina an amused look– she had been right. He was wildly drunk. 

“I missed you!” Wylan squealed, burying his face in Jesper’s neck. Matthias and Nina muffled their laughter into their hands. The men playing at the table were exchanging bewildered looks. Jesper sent the whole lot of them a deadly glare.

“ Wylan, how much did you have to drink?”

“I don’t knowww,” Wylan said. “A lot, maybe.”

Jesper glanced at Nina again. She silently held up six fingers.

“Oh wow, you’re going to regret this tomorrow,” Jesper murmured. He was slightly concerned— Wylan was not a big drinker, as far as Jesper knew, and on top of that, he was small. Six drinks very well could be enough to give him some sort of liver damage. 

“I don’t regret it now!” Wylan giggled. “Hey, can you buy me another drink?”

“I don’t think that would be wise,” Jesper snorted. Wylan pouted and reached for Jesper’s glass, the same glass he had been nursing for the past few hours he had spent at the tables while the rest of his friends enjoyed the club. Jesper grabbed the glass from him, holding it out of his reach.

“Oh, absolutely not,” he said, snorting. Nina was tapping her foot impatiently behind him. Jesper sighed– she had been right. It was past time for Wylan to leave.

“Alright, Wylan. I think it's time to go home.”

“No, it's not,” Wylan said immediately. 

“Yes, it is,” Jesper said lightly. He folded his han, to the dismay of his fellow gamblers.  

“Say goodbye to Nina and Matthias.”

Wylan scowled, and Jesper resisted the urge to grin– Wylan was adorable when he was pouty.

“I’m not leaving!” 

“Oh, you absolutely are,” Jesper hummed, gently pushing Wylan off his lap so he could stand up. 

Wylan rocked back and forth, drunkenly giggling to himself. By some miracle, he did not immediately fall over.

Nina and Matthias embraced them both cheerfully, murmuring their goodbyes. 

“Have fun with Wylan,” Nina murmured into Jesper’s ear as she hugged him. Jesper snorted. 

He certainly would be having fun with drunk Wylan. Saints, he couldn’t wait to tease the other man tomorrow. 

As soon as Matthias and Nina had fully bid goodbye to them, Wylan mumbled, “I want another drink,” and attempted to walk towards the bar– key word: attempted. He took a singular step and started to sway dangerously– Jesper was frightened he was going to faceplant onto the dirty floor of the club. 

Jesper hastily grabbed him by the shoulders. Wylan attempted to squirm out of his grip, whining complaints. 

“Alright, Wylan, I’m taking you home.” Wylan immediately shook his head.

“No!”

“Yes. c’mon.” 

Jesper started to lead Wylan out the door, gripping onto him tightly– the last thing he wanted was to lose Wylan in the crowd. With how small he was, it would be easy.

Miraculously, Jesper managed to safely get Wylan out of the door of the bar and into the chilly night air. 

“Are we going in your car?” Wylan asked, giggling slightly. Jesper snorted to himself– it was strange and hilarious to see Wylan like this. It almost made him wish Wylan got drunk more often. 

“Yeah. Unless you want to walk twenty miles.”

“I don’t,” Wylan grumbled, trying to pry Jesper’s hands away from his arms.

“Okay, walk then,” Jesper hummed. Obediently, he let Wylan go, only to regret his decision as Wylan almost instantaneously managed to trip over the air and fall, barely catching himself by throwing his arms out underneath him onto the crumbling concrete.

“Ouch,” he mumbled, looking up at Jesper sadly. “That hurt.”

“Oh no, are you hurt?” Jesper cooed jokingly. Wylan hadn’t fallen hard enough to do any serious damage– he was just sensitive. Jesper offered Wylan his hand and helped him up. 

“Yes,” Wylan sniffled, staring at his hands destitutely. “My hands hurt,” he whined before holding them up for Jesper to see. They were, in fact, a bit banged up. His palms had been rubbed raw, presumably from throwing them out to prevent himself from eating the pavement. His fingertips were bleeding slightly. He would live.

“Aw, poor baby!”  Jesper said sarcastically. “Do  you want me to kiss them better?” It was a joke. Jesper was joking, and Wylan knew it was a joke. Jesper was sure that if Wylan were sober, he would’ve smacked Jesper, scolded him, and left it at that. But drunk Wylan… drunk Wylan was much different than sober Wylan. 

There was a pause, in which Wylan tilted his head quizzically, like he was staring at one of those complicated math equations he adored.

“Okay,” he said at last, shrugging a shoulder. Jesper faltered.

“Okay, what?” 

Wylan wordlessly stuck his hands in Jesper’s face in response.  Jesper wanted to laugh, but miraculously, he didn’t. Wylan stared up at him, eyes glassy, hands waiting. 

Jesper shrugged.

Fuck it, he thought. He obediently brought Wylan’s hands up to his mouth and pressed his lips to them. They were cold, like the rest of Wylan– he was constantly in sweaters and heavy coats, and his extremities were always freezing. 

His palms were soft– of course they were, the spoilt man who had never done a lick of manual labor in his whole life. 

Wylan’s breath hitched; his eyes locked on Jesper’s lips pressed against his hand. 

Jesper dropped Wylan’s hands, wiping his lips on his sleeve. Wylan stared at him wordlessly, lips parted. He was shivering slightly, and his eyes were dilated. It gratified Jesper to know that that tiny amount of touch was enough to fluster Wylan. He was so easy to tease, so easy to mock, and it amused Jesper to no end. He didn’t feel like unpacking that at the moment.

“C’mon,” he instructed, gently grabbing Wylan’s wrist and leading him towards his bright–orange car. Wylan let him, suspiciously submissive. 

“I like the stars,” Wylan mumbled when they were almost at the car. “It’s a shame there’s always so much light pollution. Did you know that humans are made from stardust?”

“Really?” Jesper asked distractedly, attempting to coax Wylan into the car. Wylan nodded excitedly, waving his hands around animatedly as he spoke.

“Yes! Nearly every element in your body was forged inside of a star, and–”

Jesper nodded along. He didn’t understand a word being said, but he liked listening to Wylan chatter. He wished he had done it more around Jesper. But of course, if Wylan were sober, Jesper would be making fun of him, and Wylan would argue with him before rolling his eyes and falling silent. 

Jesper all but shoved Wylan into the car, forcing him to sit and buckling his seatbelt– the redhead was still looking at the stars and mumbling.

When Jesper started the car, Wylan stopped, instead turning to look blankly at Jesper. Jesper tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He wasn’t the best driver to begin with, and having a pretty boy staring at him did not help at all.

Wylan blinked at him owlishly, blue eyes locked on Jesper’s profile. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying for Jesper– after all, who doesn’t like being observed by the object of their affections?

“You’re unnerving; do you know that?” Jesper muttered, eyes on the road. In his peripheral vision, he saw Wylan shrug.

“Maybe.”

Wylan was unnerving. Very unnerving. And maybe, just maybe, it was part of why he endeared Jesper so much. 

“Have you ever had sex in this car?” Wylan asked suddenly. Jesper nearly slammed on the brakes, jaw dropping. Wylan yelped as he jerked forward from the abrupt stop.

“Pardon?” he yelped, finally turning his attention from the road to Wylan.

“I said, have you ever had sex in here?” Wylan repeated. His face was blank. He looked curious.

Jesper cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Why do you ask?” he asked. Wylan shrugged.

“I’d have sex in here if this were my car,” he said. Jesper had to fight not to swerve them off the road and into a ditch.

Wylan shrieked at the sudden movement, fingers digging into the armrests.

Truthfully, Jesper had never imagined Wylan to be the type to discuss things like that. He wouldn’t be surprised if the boy was still a virgin, for saint's sake! But maybe drunk Wylan wasn’t as much of a prude, he supposed. 

“Your backseat is big,” Wylan continued cluelessly. “I think that would be hot.” Wylan Van Eck being into car sex was not something Jesper had anticipated, especially considering that Wylan himself didn’t even own a car. Jesper filed that knowledge away into the back of his mind for safekeeping. Just in case.

“Well, Wy, you’re in a car right now. No time like the present, am I right?” Jesper joked.

Wylan laughed, but a strange expression came over his face. He drummed his fingers on the shiny black dashboard of Jesper’s car.

“How many people have you fucked?” he asked. Jesper accidentally jerked the steering wheel to the left, causing his car charms to jingle. He cursed as he tried to right the car back on course.

“Wylan! What has gotten into you?” he yelped. 

Wylan looked confused, red brows furrowing.

“Huh?” 

“Oh, Wylan, you’re so drunk,” Jesper sighed. “I can’t wait to tell you about this conversation tomorrow.”  

“I’ll remember it!” Wylan insisted. 

“If you say so.” 

“I will!” Wylan insisted. “Why won't you tell me?” 

Jesper snorted.

“A lot, kid. The answer is a lot. Not in my car though.”

“Oh,” Wylan said.  He tilted his head. 

“Will you try it out and tell me if it's fun?” 

Jesper started to laugh at that. 

“Oh, saints, you’re so fucking wasted. You’re funny, you know that?”

Wylan scowled and crossed his arms, staring petulantly out the window into the darkness, occasionally letting out little gagging noises whenever Jesper turned too hard or braked too fast. Jesper prayed Wylan didn’t vomit in his car– he didn’t exactly have the funds to clean it.

When they finally arrived at Wylan’s apartment building, Jesper glanced at Wylan.

“Do you think you can make it to your apartment yourself?” he asked skeptically. 

Wylan nodded, but Jesper sincerely doubted him.

“Get out of the car and walk in a straight line to that lamppost for me,” he ordered.

Wylan frowned.

“Why?”

“Just do it.” 

Wylan obediently exited the car and made a valiant attempt to walk in a straight line. He ended up walking more in a strange zigzag. Jesper observed him from the car.

“Yeah, no,” the Zemani man decided. “I’m going to walk you up.” 

“You don’t need to,” Wylan argued as Jesper exited the car. “I think I’ve sobered up.”

Jesper shot him an unimpressed look.

“I sincerely doubt that. You can’t even walk in a straight line.”

“Why does it matter to you?” Wylan grumbled. Jesper didn’t answer– he wasn’t sure he had an answer that Wylan would like. He locked his car and joined Wylan on the sidewalk in the darkness. 

The walk to Wylan’s apartment further proved that Jesper was correct in presuming that Wylan would have been incapable of getting to his apartment himself. Wylan stumbled constantly, banging between Jesper and the walls like a ping-pong ball. 

“It’s so bright,” he whined as they got in the elevator.

Jesper drummed his fingers on his legs anxiously. He honestly had no idea what to make of this entire interaction. 

“Jesper, my head hurts,” Wylan whined, using a hand to shield his eyes from the fluorescent light of the elevator. Jesper snorted.

“Probably because you're dehydrated, sweetheart.” 

“I’m not,” Wylan said immediately. “I’ve drunk loads!”

“Yeah, you drank alcohol! That shit doesn’t hydrate you.” 

Wylan rolled his blue eyes, grumbling to himself under his breath. Jesper glanced away from him and hid his smile.

The elevator dinged, and the two of them stepped out into the hallway of Wylan’s floor. Wylan stumbled out of the elevator with the gratefulness of a newborn fawn– Jesper grabbed him by the waist, hissing at him to be quiet– it was late, and all of Wylan’s neighbors were probably already asleep.

When they finally reached the door to Wylan’s small apartment, Wylan reached into his pocket for his keys. He fumbled with them for a solid minute and a half before Jesper simply reached out and unlocked the door himself. Wylan frowned, mumbling under his breath that he could’ve done it himself. 

Jesper ruffled his hair in response. Wylan clumsily attempted to bat his hand away before stumbling into the darkness of his apartment. Jesper followed him and switched on the lights.

The redhead attempted to kick his shoes off at the door, but ended up losing his balance and falling into Jesper with a shriek. 

“Saints,” Jesper muttered, just barely managing to catch the other boy. “You’re so clumsy.”

“No, I’m not!” Wylan snapped before immediately tripping over the shoes he had just taken off.

“I don’t think it's safe for you to be alone like this. You might fall out of your window or something,” Jesper stated, partially out of genuine concern and partially to rile Wylan up. He kicked his own shoes off– the last thing Jesper wanted was to track dirt all over Wylan’s house.

Wylan, however, did not argue back like Jesper had assumed he would. Instead, he glanced up at him through his long eyelashes and bit his lip coyly.

“You should stay with me then,” he murmured flirtatiously.

Jesper laughed softly. 

“For a little bit. I think you need to sleep.”

“With you?” Wylan said with a devious smirk. Jesper pressed his fingers to his temples. Wylan flirting with him was new. He liked it. Wylan wouldn’t remember it the next day. It was fine.

“No, Wylan. By yourself.” 

Wylan pouted. 

Jesper grabbed his arm and steered him in the direction he assumed the redhead’s bedroom was.

“I’m thirsty,” Wylan said suddenly, trying to move back in the direction of his kitchen. Jesper stopped him.

“You need water,” he told the shorter boy. “But I absolutely do not trust you around glassware right now, so I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m not going to break it!” Wylan insisted.

“Maybe not,” Jesper agreed, turning the handle of Wylan’s bedroom door. “But better safe than sorry. Why don’t you get ready for bed?” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Wylan snapped. "I’m not a baby.”

“Sure, kid,” Jesper said placidly before shoving Wylan into his room. “Get changed,” he added, because he, for some reason, knew that Wylan was weird about outside clothing on his bed.

Wylan scowled, mumbling something about how he wasn’t a kid. But nonetheless, he stumbled towards his dresser.

Jesper closed his door to give him some privacy before setting off to retrieve water for Wylan. 

He opened the kitchen cabinets at random until he found the one containing cups. The cabinet was neatly organized, like the rest of Wylan’s house. 

Jesper hadn’t spent much time in Wylan’s apartment– he never hosted entire-group hangouts, and he and Jesper weren’t exactly close enough to hang out one-on-one all that much (they should change that, Jesper thought), so he couldn’t help drinking in the details of Wylan’s living space. His apartment was neat- no surprise there. Wylan was a neat person overall. 

If Jesper were a braver (and creepier) man, he would have looked through Wylan’s cabinets, opened every drawer, entered every room. But Jesper wasn’t a creep, so he simply filled the glass he thought was least likely to break with water. He spotted an open bottle of Advil on the counter and grabbed that too– Wylan would certainly need that in the morning.

When he reentered Wylan’s room, the other boy was lying curled up on top of his perfectly pressed sheets. Jesper couldn’t remember the last time he had made his own bed. Of course, Wylan made his bed, probably every morning. Wylan sat up and stared at Jesper foggily. 

Jesper offered him the water silently, and Wylan took it. He chugged half of it before, somewhat ineloquently, placing the cup on his nightstand.

Jesper lingered awkwardly at the foot of his bed, unsure of what to do. He had gotten Wylan situated– he figured that now that the boy was in bed, there was hardly any chance of him falling out the window, or breaking something, or otherwise putting himself in danger. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, fidgeting with his rings.

“So,” Jesper said slowly. “I’ll be going then.”

Wylan nodded, eyes locked onto Jesper’s. 

“Thank you,” the other boy said softly, wrapping his arms around himself. “For being nice. For once.”

Jesper scoffed, but his eyes crinkled in amusement nonetheless. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m nice all the time, merchling.”

“Not to me.” Wylan hummed, eyes fluttering shut. Jesper didn’t reply because he didn’t have an adequate comeback– he was mean to Wylan all the time. “Lock my door on the way out?” Wylan requested quietly, breath already slowing. “There’s a spare key in the bowl by the door.”

“Sure,” Jesper murmured. “Goodnight, Wy.”

Wylan hummed in response, already practically asleep. 

Jesper quietly exited the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

He found the spare key, exactly where Wylan said it would be, and locked the door behind him as he exited the other boy’s apartment.

Then, he sat in his car, buried his face in his hands, and thanked the saints that Wylan didn’t drink often.

—

The next time the crows went out all together, once again, Jesper was painfully sober– Inej hadn’t felt like drinking, and Jesper, the ever-amazing friend he was, joined her in solidarity– and to ensure there was more than one designated driver so no one had to pay for a ride home.

The two of them were sitting at a booth together, watching their drunk friends amusedly. 

“They seem to be having fun,” Inej murmured, eyes locked on Kaz and Wylan, who were discussing something. They were both scowling at each other, getting more and more animated as their conversation went on. 

Jesper sighed, smiling slightly at the sight of Wylan’s adorable scowl.

Inej gave him a knowing look, twirling one of her knives absentmindedly. 

“Wylan looks well tonight, doesn’t he, Jesper?” she asked, raising a dark eyebrow.  Jesper shot her a look. She grinned at him, unsorry for her statement.

Wylan did look well. He always looked good to Jesper regardless, but the sweater he was wearing brought out his eyes. Jesper felt a small surge of pride– evidently, his many attempts at getting Wylan to dress less like, for lack of a better word, a bore were paying off.

“You’re staring,” Inej murmured. 

Jesper flushed and looked away.

“Kaz looks good too, don’t you think?” he asked, eyes widening innocently. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Inej said, completely deadpan. 

Jesper sighed miserably. Kaz and Inej had kept up this facade for years, and he was honestly getting tired of it.

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Jesper asked because he was nothing if not a meddler. Inej sighed listlessly, melancholy in her eyes as she glanced over at Kaz once again.

“It isn’t worth ruining a perfectly good friendship for. Why don’t you ask Wylan out?”

“It isn’t worth ruining a perfectly good friendship for,” Jesper repeated glumly. Inej caught his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

The two of them sat in silence. Jesper felt restless– he wanted to gamble, to drink, to do anything stimulating. But he figured he owed it to Inej not to leave her completely alone, watching Kaz and Wylan make fools out of themselves.

“Jesper! Inej! Tell Kaz he’s wrong.”

Jesper’s head jolted up. Inej smirked at him, and Jesper kicked her under the table.

“I’m not wrong!” Kaz refuted, leaning his cane on the table and clumsily sliding into the booth next to Inej. “Tell Wylan that he’s wrong!”

“About what?” Inej asked. 

Both Kaz and Wylan paused. Wylan tilted his head.

“I don’t remember,” Wylan admitted, throwing himself down next to Jesper. He smelled like booze instead of his normal sweet scent. “I remember that I was right, though!”

“No, you weren't," Kaz said flatly, slightly slurring his words. Wylan opened his mouth to argue back, but Inej spoke before he could.

“Where are Matthias and Nina?” she asked, looking around the club. Sure enough, neither the girl nor the Fjerdan was to be spotted in the crowd.

Wylan grinned.

“They’re having sex in the- in the bathroom,” he said, lowering his voice. 

“Of course they are,” Jesper muttered under his breath. “Can’t keep their hands to themselves for five minutes.”

Wylan's expression turned sulky.

“I wish someone would fuck me,” he sighed, completely unprovoked. 

Inej let out a little startled choking noise, and Jesper was reminded that she had yet to be subject to the joy that was wasted Wylan.

Wylan turned to Jesper, swaying slightly. 

“Do you think anyone would?”

Inej let out another muffled sound, and Jesper shot her a warning look.

“I don’t know,” he replied, trying (and failing) to keep his voice level. “Maybe you should ask someone if you want to have sex that bad.” Wylan nodded thoughtfully before half-stumbling to stand up. Jesper hastily caught him by the sleeve and pulled him back into the booth.

“I was joking!” Jesper gasped, slightly horrified. 

Wylan pouted. 

“But-” 

“Nope!” Jesper interrupted, pressing his finger to Wylan’s lips. “Sober Wylan would kill me if I let him go home with some random stranger.”

“I’m sober!” Wylan protested. Jesper shot him an unimpressed look.

“You know, I think you’re drunk enough to actually believe that.”

Wylan glared at him before his expression turned thoughtful. 

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Jesper asked, slightly baffled. Wylan gazed at him, blue eyes unblinking.

“Would you fuck me?”

Inej burst into laughter, trying desperately to muffle it behind her hand. 

Jesper buried his face in his arms and groaned.

“Would you?” Wylan pressed, nudging at Jesper’s shoulder.

“He would,” Kaz said, completely stoically. “I’m sure he’s-”

“Kaz.” Inej interrupted severely. Kaz fell silent.

Wylan’s face lit up.

“Really?” he asked Kaz. He turned to face Jesper, a grin splitting his face. “Really?”

“Oh, saints,” Jesper muttered under his breath. 

“Would you fuck me?” Wylan asked again, grinning and kicking his feet back and forth.

Jesper coughed and looked away, ears heating up.

“Um. Maybe.”

“Now?”

“Saints Wylan, not now!” Jesper gasped, completely taken aback. “What has gotten into you?” he demanded.

“In your car?”

“No, Wylan, not in my car.” Wylan frowned, eyes filling with tears. Jesper had to resist the urge to laugh– this was, in short, a bizarre turn of events.

“Oh, Wylan,” he cooed, loosely wrapping his arm around the other boy’s bony shoulders. “I think it may be time for you to go home.”

Wylan bit his lip, looking up at Jesper through his long eyelashes. 

“You should take me home,” he said, grinning sleazily. 

Jesper had to bite his tongue to muffle his laughter.

Inej looked scandalized.

“Anyways,” she interrupted flatly. “How long have Nina and Matthias been… indisposed? I would like to go home soon. It’s getting late.”

“Good lord, you’re like an old woman,” Kaz said at the same moment Jesper replied

“I can drive them, Inej. Really, if you want to go home, you can-”

“No.” Inej interrupted. “You’re going to drive Wylan home.” 

Jesper blinked slowly, slightly baffled. 

“O-okay, but I can do both?”

“No,” Kaz said, shaking his head. “Your car is too small.”

“It’ll still fit four no problem-”

“No, I insist!” Inej cut in. “Really, it’s more convenient for everyone involved.” For some strange reason, her eyes were locked onto Wylan, who was staring off into the distance blankly,  Jesper’s long arm still strewn lazily over his shoulder.

“I’m sure Wylan would prefer that too,” Kaz added, smirking slightly. Jesper groaned audibly. Drunk Kaz was a pain in the ass to be around when he himself was sober. The last thing Jesper needed was Wylan to catch wind of Jesper’s feelings from a backhanded statement made by Kaz of all people. Luck, for once, was on Jesper’s side. Wylan took no notice at the mention of his name, so Jesper took the opportunity to kick Kaz under the table.

“Really, Kaz?” he asked. “Wouldn’t you prefer to ride alone with Inej?”

Kaz opened his mouth to respond, but Inej sharply intervened, snapping,

“ Enough, both of you. It’s poor taste to fight with Kaz when he’s drunk; you know that, Jesper. And I’ll take Nina and Matthias. Besides, they live closer to me, so it's more convenient anyway.” 

“But- oh.” They were attempting to wingman him, Jesper realised, resisting the urge to laugh. Not that he would try anything while Wylan was too drunk to remember his own name, but… Jesper would never pass up a chance to spend time with Wylan, especially drunk Wylan.

He mouthed his thanks to Inej, and she smiled at him kindly.

Jesper’s arm was still around Wylan’s shoulders. He could feel the heat radiating off the other man’s body– he was enjoying their proximity more than he was willing to admit. 

Inej shot him a look, knowing in her dark eyes, and if Jesper were less shameless, he would have felt embarrassed about his position. Here he was, with the object of his desires haphazardly thrown across him, too lovesick to move and too afraid to make a move.

Wylan buried his face in Jesper’s shoulder, making a little contented humming noise.

Jesper affectionately petted his curls, mussing up their pattern slightly.

"I'm sleepy,” Wylan murmured against his neck, breath warm. “You smell good.”

Jesper froze up completely, trying to calm the racing of his heart– Wylan could definitely feel it through his shirt. 

“Do I?” he asked, trying to stop his voice from cracking.

“Mhm,” Wylan hummed drowsily. Jesper was on the verge of spontaneously combusting. He brushed his hand through Wylan’s hair again. It was painfully soft. 

From the other side of the table, there was a muffled snort. Jesper glanced up at Kaz, shooting a glare in his direction.

Kaz rolled his eyes, unamused.

“You guys should leave,” the dark-haired man interrupted boredly. “Your feeble attempts at flirting are making me sick.”

“No, I think that’s probably the alcohol,” Jesper quipped. “And besides, you’re one to talk.”

Kaz shot Jesper a look that would have sent grown men screaming for their mothers. Jesper simply grinned back at him. 

But, as much as he hated to admit it, Wylan did, in fact, seem about ready to leave– he was almost half asleep, breathing deeply. So Jesper gently nudged the redhead until he let out a little confused noise, lifting his head off of Jesper’s shoulder, blinking sleepily.

“What?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Do you want to go home?” Jesper asked softly. Wylan tilted his head before nodding slightly. “Okay. " Let's go.” 

Wylan obediently scooted out of the booth, swaying unsteadily. Jesper slid out after him, stretching out his long legs.

Both of them bid goodbye to Kaz and Inej and told them to give their regards to Nina and Matthias, who were still nowhere to be found.

Jesper caught Wylan by the elbow and led him through the club– he was certain that Wylan was unable to find the exit himself in his inebriated state.

Wylan stumbled, nearly crashing into multiple patrons despite Jesper’s attempts to prevent him from doing so.

When he finally pulled Wylan outside, the other boy was swaying dangerously. Jesper glanced at him nervously.

“Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” he asked anxiously– the last thing he wanted was for Wylan to vomit in his car. Wylan shook his head.

“Are you sure?” Jesper pressed. Wylan scowled at him.

“Yes, I’m sure. I won’t vomit on you, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Jesper muttered nervously– he was still slightly worried, but he figured his car had been through worse.

“It’s cold out. And rainy,” Wylan mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself as the two of them ambled towards Jesper’s car. 

Jesper raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s chilly, at best. I think you’re just always cold.”

“Maybe,” Wylan replied– Jesper was startled to realise that the other boy was, in fact, shivering. He wrapped his arm even tighter around Wylan’s shoulder. Pulling him loosely against his side.

When they finally reached Jesper’s car, Wylan hesitated a moment, picking at his nails.

“I don’t want to go home,” he said carefully, avoiding eye contact with Jesper. Jesper frowned at him.

“I thought you wanted to leave?” 

“I did!” Wylan said hastily. “I just… I don’t want to go to my apartment.” Jesper stared at him blankly. “Please,” Wylan tacked on.

“Why not?” he asked. Wylan shrugged wordlessly, still not moving to enter the vehicle. “Okay,” Jesper said slowly. “Would you prefer to go somewhere else?” Wylan nodded, eyes locked on the ground.

“Where do you want to go?”  Wylan shrugged again, and Jesper had to fight to bite back a groan of annoyance. He wanted to help Wylan, but he was making it impossible. “Get in the car,” he decided, opening the driver’s door. “I’ll take you to my place.” 

Wylan didn’t say anything, but to his credit, he didn’t argue either. He silently opened the passenger’s door and climbed in clumsily.

“Buckle your seatbelt,” Jesper ordered, glancing at Wylan from the corner of his eye. Wylan merely stared at him hopelessly. Jesper sighed and leaned over to do it himself. Wylan stared at him, biting his lip. Jesper flushed and sat up, resting his hands on the steering wheel and pulling out of the parking spot. Jesper was slightly thankful Wylan had agreed to go to his place– it was far closer than Wylan’s, and therefore much less of a pain to drive to. 

The drive to Jesper’s apartment was completely silent. Jesper was focused on the road– he hated driving in the rain, and the last thing he wanted was to get into a car wreck with Wylan in the car. That would’ve been humiliating. So, Jesper kept his eyes fully focused on the road and didn’t think anything of it when Wylan didn’t try to initiate any conversation. Typical Wylan, he figured. Sullen, and awkward, and anxious, and silent. And sweet, and smart, and snarky, and pretty. Saints, Jesper had to get a grip on himself— it was pathetic, really, the extent of his feelings. Especially considering that he knew he had no chance. 

After Jesper parked the car, he turned towards Wylan– and to his shock, realised that the other boy was asleep, cheek pressed against the car window. Jesper stared at him for a moment, heart aching,  unsure of what to do. He had half a mind to let Wylan sleep in his car, but he himself knew how uncomfortable it was to sleep in his car. 

When Wylan woke up the next morning with a sore neck and aching back, he would surely blame Jesper for not waking him up.

So Jesper reached over and gently tapped Wylan. He didn’t stir.

“Wylan,” he said softly, feeling slightly guilty. “Hey, Wylan. Wake up.” he gently shook Wylan’s shoulder, feeling guiltier the longer he attempted to rouse the other boy. “Wylan!” Finally, finally, Wylan stirred, eyelashes fluttering slightly.

“Wha-” he slurred, sitting upright. 

“Have a good nap, sweetheart?” Jesper asked, smirking slightly. Wylan yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“Don’t call me that. And yes, actually, I did.”  he did actually look rather well rested, considering the car ride had only been maybe thirty minutes in total. Jesper frowned, eyes skirting over Wylan’s face.

“How have you been sleeping at night?” he asked gently. Wylan’s jaw tightened.

“Why do you care?” he said flatly. Jesper raised an eyebrow at the hostile tone. 

“Bad, then?” he pressed. Wylan crossed his arms tightly and shrugged, averting his eyes from Jesper’s gaze.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I'm fine; it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure,” Jesper agreed easily, undoing his seatbelt. If Wylan didn’t want to talk, he wouldn’t press. He wouldn’t press about Wylan’s sleeping habits, and his da, and his desire not to be at home, the same way Wylan didn’t press about his gambling, or his da, or his feelings.

His nap seemed to have sobered Wylan up slightly– he could almost walk without Jesper’s support and managed to make it all the way up to Jesper’s apartment without falling and breaking his neck, which was a miracle in itself.

Jesper unlocked his front door and stepped into the foyer, kicking off his shoes easily. Wylan followed him in and removed his shoes as well.

“You can sleep in my bed,” Jesper offered. “I’ll take the couch. 

Wylan shook his head, blue eyes widening slightly.

“I can sleep on your couch; it’s fine.” 

“No, really. I’m not an ungracious host.” Jesper dismissed, venturing further into his apartment– Wylan stayed rooted where he was, socked feet curling over the floor. 

“No, I’ve already intruded by forcing you to let me stay here, I–”

“Wylan.” Jesper interrupted exasperatedly. “You’re not intruding. I invited you to stay. And you’re taking my bed. Trust me, when you wake up hungover tomorrow, you’ll be glad you aren’t sleeping on a couch.”

“But…” Wylan trailed off. Jesper shot him a look before gesturing at him to follow him into the depths of his dwelling.

Jesper realised with some embarrassment that the room was a mess, and his bed was unmade. Wylan was looking around, drinking in the details of said room. Jesper winced.

“Sorry, my room’s not very organized. Uh… Can I find you some spare sheets? Maybe? I don’t know if I actually own any but–” Jesper trailed off, fidgeting with his rings.

“Oh no– it’s okay.” Wylan dismissed. “I can sleep in these if you don’t care. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Okay! Great.” Jesper agreed, nodding. “Well, I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Wylan nodded obediently, climbing into Jesper’s bed, fully clothed. He pulled the covers up to his chin, and Jesper had to fight back a sudden wave of affection for him. 

“G’night, Jes,” Wylan murmured. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“Anytime,” Jesper said easily, before switching the lights off and closing the door gently.

Jesper went through the motions of getting himself ready for bed before collapsing onto his couch in a heap. 

Saints, he thought miserably. Wylan was asleep in his bed, under his sheets, in his apartment, and was certainly, indubitably, fucked.

He didn’t change his sheets the next morning.

—

Jesper woke up to a loud banging on his door. His first coherent thought was that someone was trying to break in.

But naturally, that didn’t make much sense– someone breaking in would’ve been more stealthy, less loud, and certainly not banging on his front door.

He waited for a moment, hopeful that the knocking would cease. 

It did not, and Jesper groaned miserably, switching his lamp on, yanking on a shirt, and forcing himself up and out of bed. 

He had no idea who could be paying him a visit so late– the only person who ever visited him in the late hours of the night (or early hours of the morning– Jesper wasn’t actually certain what time it was) was Kaz, but Kaz wouldn’t have bothered with something so trivial as knocking. He would’ve simply busted out the lockpicks and broken in. 

Slightly apprehensive, Jesper blindly stumbled about his apartment, doing his best not to resemble a headless chicken who also happened to be blind and half asleep. 

“Who’s there?” he called groggily, opening the door slightly.

Almost immediately, a slim body was falling gracelessly into him. 

Jesper cursed, doing his best to prevent said body from falling.

“What the fuck- Wylan?” he said, slightly bewildered.

Wylan giggled, staring up at Jesper from beneath his eyelashes.

“Heyyyy, Jesperrrrr,” he slurred, still slumped over in Jesper’s long arms. 

“Hi,” Jesper said slowly. “Why are you…” He trailed off, halfheartedly attempting to prop Wylan up against the now-closed door. Wylan simply fell back into his arms, giggling dementedly. He was very clearly quite heavily intoxicated.

“I lost my- my key,” Wylan mumbled, curls falling into his face. He smelt strongly of wine– not a surprise.

“Okay,” Jesper said slowly. “I think I might still have your spare– do you want–”

“No!” Wylan said hastily, clinging tightly to Jesper. “I want to stay here.”

“Sure,” Jesper said easily, readjusting Wylan in his arms. “Wylan, how drunk are you?” 

Wylan shrugged.

“A lot,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Jesper sighed before carefully maneuvering Wylan so he was sitting with his back against the wall. “Take off your shoes,” he instructed.

He flipped the light on and realised with some horror that Wylan's white shirt was completely soaked through with a red liquid. 

That explained the strong alcoholic scent, Jesper thought glumly. 

“Where the fuck were you, Wy?” he asked, trying his best to keep his tone and face neutral. Wylan hadn’t moved to undo his shoes, so Jesper bent down and began to do it himself.

“I was…” Wylan trailed off, shrugging and making a vague gesture with his hands.

“That doesn’t give me any context,” Jesper muttered under his breath before deciding there were bigger issues at hand. “You need a different shirt.” Jesper decided, holding out his hand for Wylan to take. 

Wylan obediently stood up– or attempted to, at least.

Jesper ended up half-dragging him into his bedroom before forcing him to bend at the knees and sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Do not move,” he instructed firmly before turning to his closet to find a shirt that would (hopefully) fit Wylan.

He retrieved a shirt and hurried back to Wylan, relieved to see that the other boy hadn’t moved, as Jesper had instructed him.

Jesper tossed the shirt at him. Wylan made no move to catch it, and it hit him on the cheek before falling into his lap. Wylan didn’t move, blinking dumbly. His blue eyes started to well up with tears.

“That hurt!” he whimpered. Jesper pressed his fingers to his temples. He wanted to go back to bed. 

“No, it didn’t,” Jesper said flatly. “Change your shirt.” 

Wylan clumsily fidgeted with the tiny buttons on his shirt for all of thirty seconds. Then he blankly looked at Jesper for help. 

“Oh, for saints' sake,” Jesper snorted, “you really are helpless.” Nonetheless, he obediently stooped over to unbutton Wylan’s shirt. The red-haired boy stared blatantly at him, chapped lips parted slightly. His eyes were slightly dilated and wide as saucers. Jesper had to fight not to get lost in them, instead focusing on slipping the wine-soaked garment from Wylan’s torso. 

But then he was looking at Wylan’s naked chest, and he had to force himself to lock his eyes onto the ceiling so as to stop staring at Wylan’s bare skin.

“Can you put this on?” Jesper asked, holding up the shirt he had found for Wylan. Wylan, in return, gave him a helpless look. Jesper sighed amusedly. He was starting to get used to Wylan’s drunk persona, but at the same time… he had been around toddlers more coordinated and capable than drunk Wylan.

“Lift your arms up,” Jesper instructed gently. Wylan obeyed silently, and Jesper slipped the shirt over his head. 

The shirt was, in fact, slightly too large on Wylan, and Jesper tried not to think about the way it slipped down past his collarbone and revealed more skin than Jesper deemed proper. Jesper cleared his throat, forcing himself to distract from Wylan and the illicit thoughts he was attempting to fight off.

Still, like a moth to a flame, his eyes strayed back to Wylan’s lips. Saints, they were chapped– it was a wonder they weren't bleeding.

“Stay here,” he instructed, turning to leave the room. To his surprise, he met resistance when he attempted to step away from the bed– Wylan caught him by the arm, looking slightly frightened.

“Where- where are you going?” he asked, gnawing on his (cracking ) lip nervously. Jesper gently attempted to tug his arm free.

“To get you water. I’ll be right back, yeah? Make yourself comfortable."

Wylan nodded slowly, releasing Jesper’s sleeve. 

Jesper went to his kitchen, got Wylan his water, and smashed his head into the wall miserably. He winced, but the shock of the pain brought him back to his miserable reality.

It was one am. Jesper had a crush on Wylan. Wylan was in Jesper’s bedroom. Wylan was drunk. Jesper half considered getting out his phone to text… someone about the predicament he was in. But, considering the hour, the only one up would probably be Kaz, who was almost certainly not suited for the advice Jesper needed. Inej would be a sensible choice, but she certainly wouldn’t have been awake, as with Nina and Matthias.

So Jesper glumly resigned himself to his fate of death via close proximity with his longtime crush and returned to his bedroom- his bedroom that Wylan was currently in– with the water. 

Wylan was lying sprawled on his back, staring fascinatedly at the ceiling, when Jesper reentered his room.

“Drink this,” Jesper said, perching on the edge of the bed. Wylan startled, sitting up slightly. 

He tried to reach for the glass in Jesper’s hand, but he missed by a solid few inches. 

Jesper frowned– he didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of Wylan shattering one of his few glasses.

“Okay. " New plan,” he decided. “Open your mouth.”

Wylan obeyed without question, and Jesper tried not to think about… how that made him feel.

“Swallow,”  Jesper instructed, pressing the glass against Wylan’s lip. Wylan obediently took a sip. “Good. Again.” Wylan took another sip. 

They repeated the process until nearly half the glass was gone, and Jesper deemed Wylan sufficiently hydrated. He rested the cup on his nightstand, inadvertently knocking some clutter off the edge. Wylan watched him owlishly. Jesper flushed under the scrutiny. 

“Well,” he said slowly, moving to stand up. “I guess… unless you need anything else, that’s it. Good-”

“Wait!” Wylan yelped, jerking up as though he had been shocked.

Jesper paused, turning back to him, eyebrows creasing.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes! No! I dunno. Stay with me?” he begged, eyes wide. Jesper frowned.

“I don’t–”

“Please?”

“Okay,” Jesper said slowly. “Let me get– I dunno, some blankets to sleep on or something.” Wylan gnawed at a nail.

“Well, your bed is plenty big,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. Jesper raised an eyebrow.

“Well, if you don’t mind,” he hummed, slightly mockingly. Wylan nodded empathetically.

“Please?” he begged, clasping his pale hands together earnestly. 

Jesper hesitated a moment, considering the moral ethics of allowing himself to sleep beside Wylan, who clearly was so intoxicated he had no idea what he was saying. But the longer he stayed silent, the more frantic Wylan looked, blue eyes going glassy. And there were few things Jesper hated more than seeing Wylan Van Eck in distress. So he simply grinned and climbed to lie beside Wylan. 

“I gotta say, Wy, usually when pretty boys beg me to sleep with them, they at least buy me dinner first,” he murmured, pulling back his messy sheets and climbing beneath them. Wylan imitated his movements on the other side of the bed. He rolled his eyes at Jesper's words before muttering;

“Well, typically, when pretty boys remove my clothing, they buy me dinner first.” Jesper snorted at his bluntness before raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah? How many pretty boys have you let buy you dinner?”

“Lots,” Wylan muttered, wine–reddened cheeks somehow turning redder.

“Liar,” Jesper hummed. “Light off?” Wylan nodded, and Jesper reached to turn on the switch, plunging the room into total blackness.

When Jesper’s eyes adjusted to the dark,  he realised Wylan was staring at him, curled up on his side. Jesper turned to face him, stretching his arm up to rest his head against it. Jesper’s adjustment in position meant that they were now nearly nose to nose, breathing in each other’s air, gazing at each other silently. 

Wylan was the one to break the stillness that had come over them.

“Sorry for bothering you,” he whispered softly, almost nervously. Jesper had to fight against the urge to reach out and run his hand through the other boy’s hair. 

“Why did you come here?” Jesper asked in lieu of a response. Wylan’s face darkened slightly.

“I’m not drunk enough to talk about… that,” he said bluntly. Jesper frowned– something horrible then, probably. Most likely to do with Wylan’s father.

“Tomorrow?” Jesper asked. Wylan nodded silently, and Jesper closed his eyes a moment, heart still beating out of his chest. Wylan was in his bed. With him. Jesper was sure he had done something awful in his past life to deserve this fate. The saints were probably laughing at him.

When Jesper opened his eyes, Wylan was still observing him silently. 

“You’re staring,” Jesper said amusedly. Wylan reddened, looking away quickly.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be creepy,” Wylan murmured back.

It was sort of creepy to be watched as he slept, but Jesper was surprised to find that he didn’t mind at all– it was endearing, really.

“I don’t mind,” Jesper whispered, and almost immediately, Wylan’s eyes snapped back to his face, like he had been waiting for permission.

Jesper stared right back at him, and the two of them observed each other silently. Jesper wasn’t sure when, but they had ended up impossibly closer, faces mere millimeters apart.

Jesper knew he should have moved, but found he didn’t want to. If anything, he moved infinitesimally closer to Wylan. To his surprise, Wylan reached out and brushed his slim, musician’s fingers along his face. 

“Your face is really symmetrical,” Wylan whispered, stroking lightly against Jesper’s jaw. Jesper blew out a sharp breath.

“Thanks… I think?”

Wylan didn’t respond, still stroking Jesper’s face, His lips parting slightly.

Jesper had to force himself to avert his eyes before he did something stupid, like kiss Wylan.

Wylan’s hand traveled down from his face to his neck, his collarbone, then his arm. Finally, Wylan tightly squeezed his hand, intertwining their fingers together. Jesper was half certain Wylan could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

“This is nice,” Wylan murmured, and Jesper was sure he was still at least half drunk. He squeezed Wylan’s hand back in response, thumb rubbing circles over the soft skin.

Wylan’s breathing started to gradually slow, and Jesper watched quietly as his long eyelashes fluttered shut, hand still tightly gripping Jesper’s own. 

Saints, Jesper thought desolately. 

The last coherent thought in his mind before he drifted off was that he was so, so, so fucked.

The next morning, Jesper woke up alone to the sound of retching coming from his bathroom. It took him about five seconds of drowsiness and confusion before he remembered the… situation that had ensued the night before. 

He jumped out of bed (his bed, which now smelt like Wylan) and hurried to his bathroom, squinting at the sunlight streaming in through his windows.

The bathroom door was unlocked, so Jesper simply turned the handle and entered the room– on the tiled floor sat Wylan Van Eck, pale and sweaty.  

Jesper grinned at him tiredly.

“Morning, sunshine,” he murmured, voice raspy from sleep. “How do you feel?” 

Wylan let out a miserable groan in response, too nauseated to comment on Jesper’s usage of the horrid nickname.

“I’m never drinking again,” he muttered before promptly leaning back over the toilet to vomit again.   Jesper laughed and helpfully handed Wylan the cup of water he had retrieved for him the night before. 

Wylan sat back on his heels and gratefully took it, along with the two Advil Jesper offered him. And then he threw up again. Jesper knelt down next to him, rubbing his shoulder blades soothingly. When Wylan finally ceased vomiting, he sat up, his pale face a sickly green color.

“Better?” Jesper asked gently.  Wylan made a face.

“Not particularly, no,” he muttered. He leant back against Jesper, who wiped his sweat- soaked hair away from his pallid face.

“Saints, I feel disgusting," Wylan groaned, dropping his head onto Jesper’s shoulder. Jesper snorted.

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for trying to drink yourself half to death.”

“I did not!” Wylan said somewhat defensively. Jesper wordlessly raised an eyebrow, and Wylan scowled at him. “You’re enjoying my pain, aren't you?”  he grumbled. 

“Yes, Wylan, I get so much joy out of you spilling the contents of your stomach all over my bathroom floor-”

“I did not vomit on your floor!” Wylan yelped before promptly lurching up to vomit again. 

“See?” he gasped when he was done,  “Not on your floor.”

“Let's keep it that way,” Jesper said agreeably. Wylan glared at him, although in his current state, he didn’t look very menacing.

“Saints, my mouth tastes disgusting," Wylan muttered, wrinkling his nose slightly.

Jesper, ever so helpful, offered him a toothbrush. Wylan took it suspiciously.

“This isn’t… used, is it?” he asked nervously, standing up on shaky legs.

“Saints, no. No offense, Wy, but I don’t want your vomit on my toothbrush. " It's a spare,” Jesper replied, leaning against the edge of the sink.

“No offense taken. Thank you,” Wylan replied,  bringing the (unused) toothbrush up to his mouth. Jesper silently observed as he brushed his teeth–probably for exactly two minutes, knowing Wylan– and splashed some water on his face.

It felt strange to see Wylan in that way— horribly domestic, Jesper supposed. It made him sick.

“Feel better?” he asked when Wylan was done.

Wylan shook his head.

“I still feel horrible,” he said flatly, dropping the (now used) toothbrush on the edge of the sink. “Can I use your shower?”

“Say please,” Jesper said immediately, unthinkingly. 

“Let me rephrase– I am going to use your shower.” Wylan deadpanned. “Do you have spare towels?” Jesper snorted but, nonetheless, hurried to retrieve a towel for Wylan. 

When the other boy was in the shower, Jesper slumped over on his couch, head in his hands. Wylan was in his house. Naked.  Using his shower. Saints, sometimes Jesper hated his mind. He had a relatively overactive imagination, as Colm loved to say. 

But overactive imagination or not, Jesper was sure of one thing– he hadn’t made up whatever… tension there had been between him and Wylan the night before. 

Jesper honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

The water shut off, and Wylan appeared, hair sopping wet, dressed in the same clothes. 

“Better?” Jesper asked. Wylan nodded. He did look far more refreshed. 

“Where’s my shirt?” he asked, pulling at the too-big collar of Jesper’s shirt.

“Somewhere in my room, I think. It was soaked through with wine.” Jesper explained. “It’s probably completely stained by now, sorry.”

Wylan nodded thoughtfully. Then, he sat up straight, looking alarmed.

“We didn’t have sex, did we?” 

Jesper choked, eyes widening.

“What?!” he squawked. Wylan looked indignant. 

“It's not out of the realm of possibility!”

“You think I would have sex with you while you were wasted out of your mind?”

“Well, I don’t know! I woke up in your clothes in your bed, next to you!” 

Jesper grimaced– he had to admit it looked bad.

“We didn’t have sex,” he confirmed, and Wylan looked relieved. “I wouldn’t do that while you were drunk out of your mind,” Jesper dismissed. “I’d much rather have you sober, so you could remember it all.”

Wylan turned crimson, all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Jesper! 

Jesper burst into laughter at the look on his face.

“I’m joking!!” 

Jesper was not joking.

Wylan rolled his eyes, and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Jesper absently spun his rings around. He had never been the best at silences, so he tilted his head at Wylan and asked,

“What happened to you last night?” 

“Nosey,” Wylan replied, but there was no heat behind it. 

“You told me you’d tell me!” Jesper said. Wylan grimaced. 

“I got disowned,” he said flatly, without any preamble. Jesper’s jaw dropped.

“Shit, Wy-”

“I mean, I think so, at least? I don’t really know.” Wylan continued, taking a shaky breath. “My father said he wanted to meet with me, so I went to his house. He told me Alys was pregnant and he wouldn’t be contacting me anymore. He took me out of his will,” he grimaced before continuing. “I got really drunk, I think. And he threw wine on me.”

Wylan's eyes went glassy.

Unthinkingly, Jesper stood up and moved to wrap his arms around Wylan’s shoulders tightly. Wylan tensed up, slightly startled. But the longer Jesper held him, the more he melted into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry, Darling,” Jesper murmured, pressing his nose against Wylan’s damp hair. “Your father is an asshole.

Wylan let out a soft humming noise, pressing his head against Jesper’s chest. 

Jesper’s heart clenched painfully.

Fuck.