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It was common knowledge that work in the tannery was the lowest and worst work you could get in the barrel. People who worked in the tannery had nowhere else to turn and Wylan knew it. He knew it as the chemicals burned through the horrible gloves the workers were given. He knew it with every passing shift and with every desperate growl of his stomach. Wylan couldn’t recall when he’d last eaten. And, through the haze of desperation and fatigue, Wylan felt his will power begin to crumble. He felt a horrifying willingness to do anything to survive. Before, when he’d been knew and fresh-faced to the barrel, he’d told himself that he’d remain good and look for honest work. He was an artist. A scientist. He wasn’t a criminal.
But yet, as the weeks and months wore on and the few pennies he earned hardly kept a roof over his head, Wylan found himself quite willing to take Kaz Brekker up on his offer of a makeshift lab in an abandoned warehouse. Wylan found himself saying yes to making flash bombs and all sorts of explosives for a man he knew was committing all manner of crimes. Wylan was hardly one to complain, when Kaz’s money paid for food. Slowly but surly, Wylan’s will to be good started to dissipate.
He quite literally almost collapsed as he left the tannery on a particularly damp and cold night in October.
“Easy there!” Wylan felt someone grab his arm. He instinctively pulled away from the stranger and put his back against the brick all behind him.
“Leave me alone,” Wylan tried to sound convincing, but he knew his voice was hardly above a whisper. It was horse from exhaustion.
The stranger adjusted his hat and took a step closer to Wylan.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Wylan looked up at the stranger and oh saints he was handsome. Tall and all sharp edges and wild eyes. His lips, Wylan couldn’t help but linger on them, were absolutely perfect. Too perfect.
“Enjoying the view?” The stranger grinned down at Wylan.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Wylan managed, looking down at his worn boots again.
“My name’s Jesper,” the boy stood next to Wylan against the wall. “Do you work in the tannery?”
Wylan looked up at the thugs and criminals that littered the streets. The boy, Jesper, was just making conversation. Wylan wanted to trust him.
“Yes,” Wylan mumbled. Jesper’s loud jacket, red and with a purple velvet trim, looked far too dashing on him.
“I’ll ask again,” Jesper looked at the boy beside him closely. “Are you alright?”
“I’m…” Wylan bit his lip and sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll be okay.”
“You nearly fainted.”
“It happens.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Saints,” Wylan pinched his eyes shut. “That really isn’t any of your concern.”
Jesper frowned. “Okay, fine, it isn’t. But I’m not about to walk by a gorgeous boy who almost passed out, without offering to help him.”
Wylan stared up at Jesper. “Gorgeous?” Wylan felt his cheeks heat up.
“Oh yes,” Jesper winked at him. “If I flatter you enough, will you let me buy you dinner?”
Dinner? Wylan’s mouth practically watered at the thought.
“You hardly know me,” Wylan said despite his growling stomach. “In fact, you don’t know me at all. I really don’t think I should be taking money and food from a perfect stranger.”
“Would you feel better if I told you I wanted to be your friend?”
“Me?”
“Yes you,” Jesper elbowed the boy playfully, hoping the gesture would loosen him up. Jesper really did have the best of intentions and as of yet, what coins he had in his pocket, hadn’t been been gambled away yet.
Wylan considered his options. He didn’t have many. He didn’t have any money. The last of his earnings had gone to the room and board he owed. He could play his flute on the corner again, but the thought of even drawing enough breath to produce tone made him shiver. He had no energy and no money and Jesper was offering something he couldn’t refuse.
“Fine,” Wylan tried to sound as convincing as he could.
Jesper’s face positively lit up. His eyes sparkled. “Brilliant,” he grinned. “I know it’s not much, but I know place close by that still serves waffles.”
“Waffles? The sun’s been down for hours!” Wylan exclaimed as he began to follow down the street.
“One of the many wonders of this fair city, gorgeous.”
“Saints,” Wylan knew his face was heating up again. He looked down at the cobblestone road. “Do you talk like this to everyone?”
“Only boys I think are pretty,” Jesper nudged his companion again.
Wylan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Lucky me.”
“Indeed,” Jesper stopped in front of a small cafe.
“So when you said close…”
“I meant close,” Jesper opened the door for Wylan. “After you.”
“Thank you,” Wylan found the most secluded and dark booth in the cafe and sat down. Jesper followed him and sat opposite him. Jesper made quick work of ordering them two plates of chocolate waffles and tea.
“So,” Jesper watched Wylan gulp down his glass of water. Jesper poured his own untouched water into Wylan’s glass. “What’s your name?”
“My name?” Wylan stared at his newly refilled glass of water. “It’s…Wilhelm.”
“Saints, you’re not from Fjerda.”
“No.”
“You don’t have the accent,” Jesper regarded Wylan carefully.
Wylan sighed. He knew he was horrible at lying. “I know,” he muttered.
“That’s okay,” Jesper reached across the table and put his hand over Wylan’s shaking one. “You keep your secrets. It’s okay. I’ve got plenty of my own, believe me. For now, you can be Wilhelm, a runaway from Fjerda. I don’t mind.”
“And you’re Jesper—“
“A sharpshooter from the barrel. That isn’t made up.”
“A sharpshooter?” Wylan’s eyes widened in awe. “Have you killed anyone?”
Jesper couldn’t help but smile at Wylan’s bewilderment. “You don’t become the best sharpshooter in the barrel without hitting your target.”
Wylan opened his mouth to comment, but their food arrived before he could utter a word.
“Saints,” he stared down at his plate of food. Four waffles dripping with cream and chocolate sauce. He picked his knife and fork and began to cut a small piece off the top waffle.
“Really?” Jesper watched the boy ever-so-politely eat his first bite of food. “You’re starving and you think you need to put on manners?”
Wylan swallowed slowly and practically groaned. It was so good. Warm and sweet and absolutely delicious.
“I’m not a troglodyte,” Wylan cut another piece.
“Yeah, I got that. I’m just saying…you can eat. However fast and however much you want. Have some of mine too if you’re still hungry.”
“But I…” Wylan’s voice trailed off. He could hear his father’s scolding voice, telling him to behave. To stand up tall and keep quiet. Wylan shook himself. He looked over the table at Jesper’s kindly face and encouraging smile and really, Wylan couldn’t think of an excuse. So he cut about the biggest piece of waffle he could stuff in his face and smiled in spite of himself.
“It’s good, right?”
Wylan did wait until he was done chewing to answer. “Very. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Enjoy,” Jesper poured them both tea. He watched Wylan, eyes still wide with wonder, and lips smiling around every bite of waffle he ate. It didn’t take long for the boy to finish his plate. Jesper offered him his last waffle which, after a bit of convincing, Wylan did eat. Jesper did most of the talking. He prattled on about card games and fights and alliances and ammunition while Wylan nodded and smiled and was grateful for Jesper’s attempt at filling the awkward silence between them.
When Wylan cleaned his plate, Jesper set his coins on the table and bid the waitress a jaunty farewell wave over his shoulder. Wylan followed him out the door. He half expected Jesper to walk away and never look back. Wylan never expected Jesper to turn around and face him in the dim light of the street lamp.
“Do you have some place to stay for tonight?”
Wylan froze at Jesper question. Strictly speaking, he didn’t have money for room and board, so he would have to spend the night in the warehouse again.
“I have a roof over my head,” Wylan said, thinking it was vague enough answer to satisfy Jesper.
It didn’t.
“Why don’t you stay with me for tonight?” Jesper asked, because really, nobody cared who came and went out of Jesper’s room in the slat.
“I…” Wylan didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t sure what Jesper was offering, but the promise of a warm bed seemed too good to pass up. “As long as you don’t mind.”
Jesper beamed. “Are you kidding?” He leaned in close to Wylan’s face. “How could I mind inviting a gorgeous boy like you into my room?”
Wylan blushed and tried to hide his face in the collar of his coat. Jesper held his arm out to him and winked. An invitation. Help disguised as flirtation. Jesper didn’t talk for a moment. They simply walked arm in arm through the streets until Wylan couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to look at Jesper. He was simply too handsome, too wild and unattainable. He looked far too good in the moonlight.
Jesper, of course, caught Wylan looking up at him and smirked.
“Sorry,” Wylan spluttered and looked down again. “I didn’t mean to—I mean—I was just—“
Jesper went from holding out his arm to slinging his arm around Wylan’s shoulders. “Believe it or not, I’m fine with you admiring me, gorgeous. Look all you like.”
“I wasn’t… I was just…I’m sorry,” Wylan stared down at the ground as they walked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just—“
Jesper stopped suddenly and shifted to face Wylan. He placed his hand under Wylan’s chin and brought it up so their eyes met. Jesper hated how glassy and sad Wylan’s eyes had become.
“Hey,” Jesper smiled at the boy comfortingly. “It’s okay. I really don’t mind.”
Wylan’s lips twitched into a small smile of his own. “It’s just…” he pursed his lips in thought. “You’re very handsome.”
“And you’re gorgeous,” Jesper caressed Wylan’s cheek with his thumb. “If you don’t mind being called that.”
“I don’t.”
“Well then, gorgeous, there’s something I’d really like to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Well…” Jesper’s voice trailed off. He leaned in closer to Wylan and grinned at him. Jesper’s eyes twinkled with mischief and desire and really, there was nothing stopping Wylan. Jesper was a stranger. They could never see each other again. Wylan could, just this once, take a chance.
So, before Jesper had a chance to tease him anymore, Wylan reached up on his tip toes and kissed his perfect lips.
Jesper’s breath hitched.
Wylan sighed.
The world stopped turning from a brief, beautiful, moment.
Jesper’s lips were as perfect as Wylan had imagined. Soft, though slightly dry, and filled with temptation. Wylan’s heart beat wildly when Jesper’s arms circled around his waist. Jesper kissed him back, giving and moving and sighing and perfect. The ghost of Jesper’s tongue traced Wylan’s lips as two kisses turned into three.
Wylan couldn’t help but gasp and pull back ever so slightly. He could feel Jesper’s panting breath hit his face.
“Saints,” Jesper rested his forehead against Wylan’s. “Sorry if that was too forward.”
“I’m the one who kissed you,” Wylan chuckled.
“True. Do you—“ Jesper pecked the boy’s lips. “Want to take this somewhere more private?”
“Saints, yes,” Wylan said far too quickly.
“Wonderful,” Jesper swung his arm around Wylan’s shoulders and led them down the street again. It was too dark for Wylan to really get his bearings. He knew, when Jesper opened a door for him, that they’d entered a gang’s headquarters. Wylan suspected Jesper worked for a gang. And for whatever unfathomable reason, it didn’t scare Wylan. A part of him was actually excited.
Jesper held Wylan’s hand and led him up the stair behind him.
“You have your own room?” Wylan whispered the question despite the noise.
“Something like that.”
“That’s good.”
“It’s not much,” Jesper opened a door to his left. “But it’s better than most in the barrel.”
Wylan entered Jesper’s room, eyes wide taking it all in. Jackets haphazardly discarded on chairs. A collection of hats on a hat rack. A row of shoes lined up against the wall. Everything loud and everything very Jesper.
“You have quite the array of clothing,” Wylan smiled at a pair of red shoes.
“Some of it, I’ve actually paid for,” Jesper said and wrapped his arms around Wylan’s waist from behind him.
“How very noble of you,” Wylan managed to murmur. He tried to keep his cool.
“Quite,” Jesper began to kiss the side of Wylan’s neck.
“Jes—“ Wylan gasped as Jesper nipped at his ear. “Saints.”
“Want me to stop?” Jesper breathed against Wylan’s neck.
Wylan twisted around in Jesper’s arms and kissed his mouth firmly. “Don’t you dare.”
“Fuck,” Jesper breathed the curse against Wylan’s mouth and it was pure adoration. Pure need and lust and before Wylan could glean anything else from Jesper’s expression, the sharpshooter kissed him. Hard.
Wylan’s coat was tossed across the room along with Jesper’s long tailcoat and hat. Despite his shaking fingers, Wylan was able to undo the buttons on Jesper’s vest while his mouth was still very much occupied. How Wylan shirt came to be strewn across a desk, he had no idea. Everything was happening so fast. They were kissing and caressing each other like it was their only chance.
Wylan felt Jesper lead him over to his bed as he kissed his neck.
“Saints,” Wylan moaned and clutched Jesper’s hair. He knew Jesper was leaving a mark. He couldn’t care less. “Saints, Jesper—you’re—oh saints—“ Wylan fell back onto the bed with a gasp.
“Gorgeous,” Jesper breathed and encouraged Wylan to lie down. Jesper followed him, hovered over him, staring down at him in complete adoration. Complete awe. Jesper pressed a kiss to Wylan’s collar bone and murmured, “Absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
Then a horrifying thought occurred to Wylan. One he hadn’t even considered before. How could he have been so innocent? Why would Jesper want to have sex with him? Maybe he thought Wylan was something he wasn’t.
“Whoah,” Jesper felt Wylan stiffen against him. “You okay?”
Wylan bowed his head. “I’m not a…you know…and if you’re wanting something in return for the food and—“
“Saints, no,” Jesper cupped Wylan’s face with his hands. “That’s not it at all. It’s nothing like that. I’m not expecting anything in return. I know you just work at the tannery. And I’d never ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“So you really just like me?”
“I do. And I just wanted to help you.”
“Thank you,” Wylan breathed and kissed him again. “Don’t stop,” Wylan panted. He felt Jesper’s fingers hesitate around the buckle of his trousers.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Brilliant,” Jesper began to undo Wylan’s trousers. Jesper tossed them aside haphazardly and grinned down at a flushed and wide-eyed Wylan. “Gorgeous,” Jesper repeated and marvelled at how Wylan’s blush increased under his praise.
“Jesper?” Wylan looked up at the boy hovering over him. “Do you want to?”
“Of course I fucking do,” Jesper grinned.
“Brilliant,” Wylan mimicked Jesper’s previous response with a little smirk.
Jesper kissed him. He kissed his mouth, his neck, his chest, his hips. He reached for the oil he kept in his bedside drawer. He put some oil on his fingers and before he touched Wylan further, he cocked his head to the side in silent communication.
Is this how you want to do this?
Wylan tilted his hips up and off the bed slightly. An invitation.
Take me.
“Fuck,” Jesper swore and kissed Wylan again, all tongue and mess and eagerness. The combination of Jesper’s tongue against his own and Jesper’s finger easing him open made his entire body shiver.
Wylan had heard sex called many things. Coupling. Consummating a marriage. Making love. Fucking. Screwing. None of those phrases or words came close to what Jesper felt like. The boy put a spell on Wylan. For a brief heartbeat of a moment, Wylan felt adored. It was in the way Jesper whispered words of encouragement. In how he caressed his hips as he slid into Wylan. It was in how Jesper always watched Wylan for cues; making sure what he was doing felt good.
It wasn’t just sex.
Wylan wanted to pretend like it was. That their shared moment of bliss was nothing but a one night stand. Wylan knew he had to for the sake of his own sanity. But when Jesper moaned things like so perfect, gorgeous and you feeling so incredible, Wylan allowed himself to imagine a world where he’d see Jesper again. Where their joy wasn’t a fleeting moment.
It was over far too soon.
Jesper rolled off Wylan with a satisfied sigh. Dimly, Wylan registered Jesper reaching over for a cloth and cleaning them.
“It’s Wylan.”
“Hmm?” Jesper hummed and shifted onto his side to look at the boy.
“My name. It’s Wylan.”
“Ah,” Jesper reached over to stroke Wylan’s face with the back of his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Wylan.”
“You too, Jesper,” Wylan smiled.
Jesper watched Wylan’s eyelids droop for a moment. “You can stay, you know. I don’t really mind.”
“I shouldn’t,” Wylan tried to keep his eyes open.
“I usually don’t, but you’re welcome to,” Jesper reached for Wylan’s hand beside him.
Wylan only nodded slightly. Jesper watched him fall asleep and for the first time in his life, he hoped the person sharing his bed wouldn’t leave. He wanted to wake up and see Wylan beside him. He wanted to convince Kaz to take him on. He wanted to see Wylan again.