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REALITY A
The conversation began around the hazy hour between midnight and one-AM when the lights across the city were beginning to dim but darkness hadn’t quite struck the canals, casting everything in the faint glow of dying parties and night-time dreamers. Wylan was just the right side of drunk to be sort of sappy, or perhaps affectionately existential. Next to him, so close that the bare skin of their forearms touched - and electricity seemed to spring from the point of contact so that Wylan could bask in the warmth and the fizz in his veins that the scientist in him diagnosed as physical attraction, but his heart just called love – Jesper cradled a bottle between his palms, eyes bright with drink and adrenaline, just about falling into the boundary between tipsy and drunk himself and therefore willing to indulge Wylan in his romantic whimsies.
Music drifted on the breeze alongside rich spices from the market that had infiltrated the brickwork years ago and never quite faded. There was that distinct tang of saltwater from the harbour. Tired gulls spiralled high above in lonely circles, pale and ghostlike against the midnight clouds. Ketterdam seemed like a city of dreams when seen through the influence of drink, especially when you had the love of your life next to you, leaning out of the window to a degree of danger and singing obnoxiously to the club-goers below. Jesper’s shirt had snagged on the window ledge to reveal smooth skin, tantalising. Wylan reached out and trailed a hand across his boyfriend’s lower back, curling his fingers across Jesper’s waist in silent demand of a kiss that Jesper was all too willing to provide.
“I love you,” Wylan murmured against Jesper’s lips, not quite sure whether he’d spoken aloud or whether it had been Jesper to voice the thought. He repeated the words, slightly slurred, a promise to stay when so many others hadn’t. Even drunk, it meant something, meant more, and while his thoughts seemed strange and slippery, difficult to pin down and understand at current, his feelings were simple enough to be captured in those three words and the gentleness in the way that Jesper’s arms wrapped around him to pull him close.
“Uh huh. I love you too.” Jesper’s tone was teasing, dry amusement bright and merry in his laughter that he muffled in the curve of Wylan’s neck. “Even if you are off your head right now.”
Wylan cupped Jesper’s jaw, felt his pulse quicken under the touch, and moved closer to press a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not off my head,” he defended himself, admittedly somewhat distracted. It was difficult to focus on being offended by such accusations when Jesper was right there, looking unreal, almost magical, a wish come true that was Wylan’s to keep, to love…
The train of thought grew scattered and vanished into the sky. He turned his head to examine the faint stars glittering amid the city glow where the clouds were parting.
“Hey.” Jesper withdrew a fraction, tilting his head to inspect Wylan’s expression. “Where’d you go?”
Wylan shrugged. “Nowhere. Everywhere.” He yawned. “Just… thinking.”
They turned back to the window. Jesper seemed effortlessly put-together and in-control whereas Wylan was beginning to lose his grip on reality and felt a little like he was wandering through a dream. There was that same faint daze to his thoughts that was present in the subconscious mind. He caught Jesper’s hand and entwined their fingers. Jesper’s smile was undeniably soft, none of those sharp edges or fighter’s front, just pure affection as he ran his thumb over Wylan’s knuckles.
“Do you think…” Wylan began and took a moment to collect his thought from wherever it had run off to.
“Do I think…?” Jesper prompted, voice light and teasing. He guided Wylan’s head to his shoulder before Wylan could peer too far out of the window and lose his stomach in the streets below – apparently liquor and heights weren’t a good mix, as history had proven. “Wy?”
Wylan hummed. “Oh, oh, wait, I remembered. I think… yes, that was it.” He gestured to the sky and the city and the thin line of human light between the two. “Do you think we’d find each other in every life? Do we love each other in every life?”
Jesper blinked. “Uh… what?”
“Like… reality. If there’s more than one version… worlds and lives. Do you think we fall in love in every one of them?”
Jesper’s laugh was hushed. He planted a kiss on the crown of Wylan’s head. “Honestly, sunshine, I’m not sure what you’re on about, but I know one thing – I love you in every story. That’s a constant.”
“Our promise,” Wylan mused. “Our promise is I love you.”
REALITY B
Hollywood depicted the city – by which Wylan meant literally any city anywhere on the goddam planet so long as it had skyscrapers and the bright lights to match – as a mystical place where anyone could make their dreams come true so long as they had enough motivation. If you were a no one, the city was where you came to become someone. If you had a tragic backstory, that was an added bonus – the city loved damaged hearts. Well, Wylan had both the traumatising history and distinct lack of someone-ness to be the perfect candidate. The second he’d graduated high school he’d packed his bags, bought a bus ticket and it was sayonara to dear old dad. The moment he’d seen the gleaming buildings on the horizon, his heart had lifted…
…and then promptly fallen after he’d discovered the price of a single night at the nearest hotel. He’d crept along the block to the nearest youth hostel where he’d fallen asleep to the sounds of rats scratching in the ceiling and his roommate’s congested snores. It wasn’t the dream Hollywood had sold him. But he’d been through worse and come out without losing all hope, so the next morning he poked his nose out of the door and – after nearly being mown down by a taxi and then a motorbike – he’d finally found an apartment within his rather miserable price range.
Given the price tag he wasn’t expecting much, but the apartment proved itself to be a pleasant surprise. It was small – more of a rabbit hutch than human accommodation – but it had windows facing the sunset and the toilet actually flushed and there were no rats in the ceiling – at least none that he could hear. He didn’t have many belongings – the most expensive item to his name was the mattress he’d gone and bought after putting down his deposit on the apartment – so unpacking didn’t take long.
It was approaching the point in summer when humidity turned the tables on the pleasant cool of spring and left everyone sweltering. Wylan tugged off his shirt and went on a hunt for the key to the window latch, which appeared to be mostly rusted shut but only took a reasonably sharp knife and a good deal of perseverance to coax open. He rolled the window up and crawled out to sit on the fire escape outside. The rusty rungs were coated in a fine layer of moss and bird faeces, but, faced with the city stretched out below him with the grand skyscrapers straining to reach a bruised sky, he barely noticed.
He propped himself up against the sandy brickwork behind him and let his feet dangle over the edge, a fine breeze tickling his toes. The sounds and sights of the city wound around him. He tasted pizza on the air and a chorus of music and traffic alongside a very human thrum of electricity, so different from the stillness of the fields he was used to.
He forced himself to retreat back inside once his stomach’s growling had grown too loud to ignore any longer. The breeze had dried the sweat on his skin and he felt uncomfortably sticky as he pulled his shirt back on and hunted for his sneakers, planning a quick trip to the corner shop he’d spied from the fire escape. He wasn’t expecting company – mostly because he didn’t yet know anybody – so the knock on the door took him by surprise. He tripped over his own laces and narrowly avoided tumbling headfirst into the potted plant sat in pride of place by the box he was using as a makeshift couch.
The knock at the door sounded almost determined. Confident. Not a hint of self-doubt or discouragement by the lack of immediate answer. Wylan caught his balance, gave his potted plant a quick nod and took the faint waver of a leaf as reassurance that he wasn’t about to be brutally murdered by a stranger, then finally flung open the door.
“Hi,” said Mister-Tall-And-Unreasonably-Good-Looking with a suave smile. “I’m Jesper. I live in the apartment above.” He propped himself against the doorframe as if he owned the place. “Nina saw you move in earlier. I figured you probably haven’t had a chance to stock up on groceries yet, so I thought I’d bring you dinner.” He produced a cardboard container from behind his back and presented it to Wylan with a flourish. “I hope you like pizza.”
Wylan blinked. His voice had run off somewhere which was rather unfortunate. He swallowed a few times and finally croaked, “Nina?”
“Oh, Nina’s my roommate. Just my roommate, before you make any assumptions.” Jesper gave a melodramatic shudder. “Her boyfriend, Matthias, would rip my heart out and feed it to me if he thought I was making a move on her.”
Wylan imagined his horror was making itself known on his face.
Jesper’s eyes widened. “I’m just kidding, don’t worry. Matthias is actually a secret softie, but don’t let him hear you say that. Anyway…” He patted the box. “Pizza?”
“Um…”
“Oh, right, sorry.” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Jesper Fahey.”
“I… uh… Wylan. Is me. I’m Wylan.”
Was it possible to cringe into oblivion? Wylan was about to put it to the test. The Gay Panic had never been so strong. In his defence, very attractive and kind strangers had never spontaneously brought him food – this guy was the dream.
Wylan surreptitiously pinched himself and concluded that he was awake. Well then. In that case…
He stepped aside to let Jesper through the door.
Jesper set the pizza box down on the counter. “Huh.” He swung in a wide circle, arms outstretched, brushing a leaf of the potted plant with glittering nails. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Minimalism is trending at the moment.”
“I’m not minimalist,” Wylan said before he could stop himself. “I’m just broke.”
Jesper snorted. “You and me both, kid.” He pranced over to the window, still pushed slightly open to provide ventilation through the apartment. “It’s a killer sunset. How’d you feel about eating outside? Not scared of heights are you?”
Wylan felt something in his chest loosen for the first time in his life. Jesper held out a hand. His nails sparkled – they were painted a baby blue with a glitter topcoat – the tiny details seemed as important as the bigger puzzle pieces. Everything about Jesper seemed to matter. There was something enigmatic about him as if he were a main character starting out in the first chapter of a brand-new adventure. Wylan couldn’t help but hope he would be swept up in the whirlwind such people always left in their wake – and hey, if there was an opening for the role of love interest, then he wouldn’t turn that down either.
He took Jesper’s outstretched hand and fought the urge to giggle as Jesper pulled him into a gentle twirl, entwining their fingers and guiding him out onto the fire escape. The city glowed gold around them, thousands of lives captured within those glittering windows, and Jesper’s eyes reflected the lights.
The pizza was great. Wylan was so hungry that he consumed half the box, licking sauce from his fingers before recalling that he had company and probably wasn’t making the best first impression. When he stole a glance at Jesper, he was surprised to find not disgust or that disconcerted bafflement he’d been used to throughout his childhood, but a strangely fond expression, as though Jesper believed Wylan to be something worth treasuring, worth watching, worth… more than he’d been told for all these years.
Jesper tilted his head. His smile was alive in his eyes and in the gentle tapping of his fingers against the metal rungs. The pizza box jumped slightly where it was balanced on his knees. He seemed to constantly move, the very epitome of life and adventure. He was something entirely new.
Across the city, the sun sunk lower. The distance thrum of airplane engines glided overhead. Around them, the entire world was living its life, but none of it seemed to matter, as though it were a show on a different TV channel and the only thing in focus was this moment with Jesper and Wylan and the pizza box between them.
“What brings you to the city?” Jesper asked eventually.
Wylan ducked his head, tugging at one of his worn bracelets without really seeing it. “I needed a fresh start,” he said at last, voice hushed. “I didn’t want to be me anymore and no one else wanted that either.”
“Sounds like they were a bunch of idiots,” Jesper remarked. “If I had you around, I’d never let you go.”
Wylan wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Jesper offered him another smile, as bright as the city lights, and jumped to his feet.
“You came to the city for an adventure, right?”
Wylan took Jesper’s hand and allowed himself to be hauled upright.
“Yes,” he agreed slowly, still hesitant until Jesper lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed Wylan’s knuckles, as if they were living in some sort of fairy-tale, because surely this didn’t happen to real people in real life?
“Well then,” Jesper murmured, words low and sweet and full of promise. “Let me give you a night you won’t forget.”
REALITY C
Jesper wasn’t sure whether to murder Nina or kiss her. Neither seemed like a good option given Matthias was on the prowl somewhere, but the thought was there and that was what mattered. The universe would know that Jesper was distinctly displeased with Nina, even if no one else would, not even Nina herself.
Why, pray tell, was he lacking his usual party spirit – which was tragic, really, given he was currently surrounded by a sea of drunk college students, most of whom were incredibly attractive, not to mention single and ready to mingle. Well, his current state – depressingly sober, by the way, but not the point – was all thanks to Nina’s scheming, which was what had led Jesper to turning up for a blind date who had no showed and left him sitting there looking like a loser. He wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered humouring Nina’s matchmaker tendencies in the first place. It was probably due to the fact that he was hopelessly crushing on a certain curly-haired student who’d been sitting in the row in front of him for the past two years.
Look. Admiring Wylan from afar was fun. Jesper may even have been tempted to make a move, except then Kaz had somehow adopted the kid into their friendship group and had made it clear under no uncertain terms that if Jesper were to break Wylan’s heart in any way, he would have hell to pay. When Kaz Brekker threatened you, you paid attention. There was a reason why Inej felt safe to wander campus alone at night and it had nothing to do with the fact she was more than capable of defending herself – although admittedly that did help her case.
So, while Jesper had no intention of breaking Wylan’s heart, he did have a track record even when he’d entered relationships with honest feelings, and that was a risk that just wasn’t worth taking. The truth of it was that Jesper had steered clear of any potential romantic endeavours with Wylan because he cared. He was more scared of upsetting Wylan than he was of Kaz’s threats – the fact that the two lined up was just an added bonus.
So. The blind date. He’d agreed to it in a feeble attempt to encourage himself to move on, except the person had no showed and his traitorous heart had skipped a beat when he’d seen Wylan enter the café with his stupid face and annoyingly soft sweater. Jesper had snuck out of the door before he could be spotted and bade a hasty retreat back to Nina’s dorm where he’d promptly flung himself on her bed and complained for an hour straight – well, not so straight… that ship had sailed a long time ago.
“Quit moping,” Nina had sighed, swatting him with a rolled-up magazine. “We’ve got that party tonight, anyway.” Her eyes gleamed in a way that clearly spelled trouble. “Ooh, I’ll ask the date to meet you there instead. They…” She glanced at her phone with a wince and clicked it off before Jesper could spy the notifications on her lock screen. “They chickened out earlier, but I promise once you see them, it’ll be worth it.”
“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” Jesper whined into a pillow. The magazine whacked him in the back of his head. “Would you stop hitting me? This is bullying. You’re a bully, Nina. How’d you feel about that?”
“Wonderful,” Nina quipped, and promptly set about choosing the perfect outfit for the night. Jesper rolled off the bed and proceeded to complain some more into the carpet.
Which brought him to this moment… This moment in which he wanted to murder his best friend because Nina had promised that this supposed date-made-in-heaven would show - which they most decidedly hadn’t because no one had come up to him with any confessions… This moment in which he also wanted to kiss his best friend because Nina had dragged him to possibly the only party ever that had Wylan Van Eck in attendance.
Wylan Van Eck, who was decidedly drunk and decidedly shirtless.
Oh, Saints. Jesper wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with this. His poor bisexual heart couldn’t be expected to cope. He was far too sober for a start, not to mention his pride had taken a brutal beating from the entire no showing incident. But Wylan was the wrong side of drunk to be left unattended and with the way some of those creeps were eyeing him up, there was no way Jesper was leaving him alone. He reached for the nearest cup, downed it, and sidled up to the table that his very drunk crush was currently galivanting around on in a terrible attempt at dancing. It was proof of just how far gone Jesper was for this boy that he found this endearing rather than cringeworthy.
“Wylan,” he called up, but the music stole his words like Wylan had stolen his heart. He planted his hands on his hips, glowered at the guy who’d been laser-focussed on Wylan’s ass, and raised his voice above the din. “Wylan.”
Wylan whirled around and honest-to-god squeaked. His heels slipped on the beer-splattered table and he went down hard, smashing his head against the counter so violently that Jesper heard his teeth clack together.
“Oh shit, Wy, are you okay?”
Wylan blinked owlishly, thumbing his temple. A thin streak of blood trickled from the point of impact and Jesper’s heart lurched. He looped an arm around Wylan’s waist and swung him into his arms.
“Where’re we goin’?” Wylan slurred, tipping his head back to knock against Jesper’s shoulder, smile lopsided and clearly dazed. He patted Jesper’s chest. “Jes. Jesper.”
“We’re going to hospital at this rate,” Jesper muttered, finally managing to barge through the crowd to the exit. Matthias was lounged against the door, guarding Nina’s drink until she returned from wherever she’d vanished to. He arched a brow at Jesper until his gaze fell on Wylan and he bolted upright, seemingly sobering in the span of thirty seconds.
“Oh my god, Fahey. What did you do?”
“Are you kidding me?” Jesper would have gestured wildly at him, but his arms were taken up by a drunk and now possibly concussed Wylan. “Why do you assume that this is my fault?”
“Most things are,” Matthias pointed out in a tone that could have passed for dry amusement had it not been so tainted by worry. “Seriously, what happened? Do you need a ride?”
“Are you even sober?”
“No, but I can call you an Uber. I’ve got a better passenger rating than you and we both know you can’t afford a taxi.”
“Rude.”
The beginnings of a headache were starting to throb at his temples. For the first time in years, Jesper didn’t want to do anything other than crawl back to his room and go to bed. Even the music seemed oppressive and faint taste of the drink he’d downed was sour on his tongue. He licked his lips and nearly jumped out of his skin when Wylan reached up and patted his cheek.
Matthias tipped his head back with a fully-body sigh. “I’m just going to call Inej. She can drive you both.”
“Probably the smartest plan,” Jesper agreed. “Thanks.” He hesitated, then, softer: “Really, Matthias. Thanks.”
Matthias shrugged. “Take care of him. He’s had a rough day.”
“Yeah,” Jesper muttered under his breath as he shouldered the door open. “That makes two of us.”
Inej’s car was battered – it was more scratches than it was blue paint - but it was the most beautiful thing that Jesper had seen all day – save for Wylan bathed in purple disco lights and smiles before he’d slipped and nearly caved his head in on some random undergrad’s tabletop. Inej herself – dressed in her PJs with Kaz’s black trench-coat, her hair coaxed into a tangled topknot and yet somehow managing to make all of it look effortlessly attractive – was also a welcome sight. She helped him coax Wylan into the backseat where he agreed to remain on the one condition that Jesper stayed with him, which wasn’t exactly a hardship given Jesper hadn’t been planning on leaving his friend’s side anyway.
Jesper hated hospitals. Well, mostly he hated the bills that came with them, but as a general rule he tried to avoid the white-walled harbingers of death. For an adrenaline junkie with an occasional death wish, he’d spent surprisingly little time in A&E. Now he forced himself to remain in the waiting room while Wylan was examined and tried not to dwell on the way the stench of antiseptic and bleach crawled into his clothes and itched under his skin and invoked long-repressed memories. His heart ached. He threw himself into a brisk walk that turned into pacing back and forth until Inej forced him to sit down before he could wear a hole in the floor.
“You don’t like hospitals,” she diagnosed, placing a hand on his knee.
Jesper stilled his tapping heels under her touch and inhaled deeply. His sarcastic retort of ‘whatever gave you that idea’ died in his throat before he could begin to voice it. Instead he fixed his gaze on the bright contrast between his sneakers and the tiles and admitted:
“My mother died when I was little. I spent a lot of time in hospitals when I was a kid. The smell, the sight… I can’t be in a hospital without remembering how sick she looked and how she…” His chest was tight, as though a fist were constricting his lungs. He knitted his fingers together and exhaled. “I just… I really don’t like hospitals.”
“I’m sorry,” Inej said softly, all genuine and tearful with her open empathy. She moved her hand to his shoulder and squeezed. “You could wait in the car if that would be easier? I’ll give you the keys so you can put the heater on – it’s getting cold early for October.”
Jesper tipped his head back. The spotlights stained dots into his vision that he could see swimming in front of him even when he closed his eyes.
“Thanks,” he murmured. “But I promised Wylan I’d stay.”
Inej didn’t move her hand from his shoulder. “Alright then. We’ll stay.”
Jesper kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on the warm weight of Inej’s hand. Eventually she rested her head on his shoulder and curled into his side. He felt a coattail drape over his knee. He lifted an arm around Inej’s back and kissed the crown of her head.
“Thanks.”
Inej’s smile was audible in her words. “You don’t need to thank me. We’re friends. You’d be there for me too if I needed you.”
Jesper hid his smile. “Obviously.”
The clock ticked on. Jesper was halfway to falling asleep himself, remaining awake only thanks to a mixture of caffeine, concern for Wylan, and fear for his own life if he didn’t continue to reply to Kaz’s texts within five minutes of receiving them. But finally, mercifully, Wylan was cleared to leave, complete with a lopsided plaster and a distinctly soberer smile.
“Hey. Thanks for staying,” he said as they stood in the lobby, waiting for Inej to bring the car around from where she’d parked outside the meter zone.
“Eh.” Jesper scuffed his shoes awkwardly. “No biggie.”
Wylan tugged at the sleeves of the borrowed shirt Inej had brought him from Kaz’s wardrobe. In the dim light from the streetlamps, he looked younger than usual, sort of vulnerable, and Jesper fought the urge to wrap him up in a hug and never let him go again.
“I’m sorry,” Wylan said in a rush.
Jesper searched his mind for any incident that required an apology and came up empty. “For what?” he asked finally, too tired for any of Wylan’s cryptic bullshit.
Wylan shrugged. “Because I… I was supposed to… but I saw you and I panicked and… I’m sorry.”
It was far too late – or was it early now? – for this. Jesper stifled a yawn and gave Wylan the most reassuring smile that he could muster.
“Look, Wy,” he admitted past another yawn. “I’m gonna level with you – I have no clue what you’re talking about, but hey, you’re forgiven. I’m just…” He watched Wylan out of the corner of his eye. “I’m glad you’re okay. You scared me for a while there.”
Wylan’s expression softened. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Yeah, well…” Jesper took a risk and reached for Wylan’s hand. “You’d do the same for me.”
Wylan laughed. “I would,” he agreed, and then, with a cheeky smile, added: “Obviously.”
REALITY D
Wylan was in Las Vegas and it was entirely Jesper’s fault. From what little he could glimpse of Kaz’s hastily darkening expression and Matthias’ long-suffering sigh, Wylan wasn’t the only one displeased about their current location. Jesper on the other hand was positively vibrating with glee, practically jumping up and down on the spot like a kid let loose in a candy store. To be fair, Vegas was probably the equivalent of a candy store for Jesper, so this reaction was somewhat understandable, but it didn’t take away from the fact that Jesper was the only one who wanted to be here, and given that this was Matthias’ bachelor party, this wasn’t ideal.
“Vegas, baby,” Jesper proclaimed, gesturing towards the view from their ridiculously oversized window overlooking the city. He took a running jump onto one of the king-sized beds and cackled into a pillow. “Hell yeah.”
“I don’t like Vegas,” Matthias stated simply.
“Ugh, whatever.” Jesper flapped a hand without lifting his face from the pillow. “Take that stick outta your ass and lighten up a bit, Matty. I know this may come as a shock to you, but a bachelor party is supposed to be fun.”
Matthias bristled. “Don’t call me Matty.”
Wylan wandered over to the window, conscious of Jesper’s gaze on his back. His skin prickled underneath his shirt as though he’d been struck by a static shock, which was fast becoming the norm when he was around Jesper. He wasn’t entirely oblivious as to the reason why – he’d had enough questionable dreams to realise that his feelings towards Jesper weren’t entirely platonic.
“Come on guys,” Jesper sing-songed, rolling onto his back and flinging his arms out. “We’ll have a few drinks, hit the clubs…”
This suggestion was met with a stony silence that could only be described as awkward on a level that was almost painful. Wylan would far rather have been in the mountains where Matthias had originally planned to base their weekend, but here they were and they had to make the best of it. Besides, it wasn’t as if Jesper had intentionally ruined Matthias’ bachelor party – he’d just planned a trip that appealed to him personally without thinking it all through. It was the classic, impulsive sort of move that Wylan had come to expect from his best friend. And really, wasn’t this partly all of their faults for agreeing to let Jesper plan this weekend without supervision in the first place?
Matthias tossed his bags onto the nearest bed and yanked at the zip with a level of aggression that didn’t bode well for the next forty-eight hours. He stowed his washbag under his arm and didn’t bother addressing any of them - not even Kaz who hadn’t said anything since reading the destination on their tickets back at the airport and therefore couldn’t be accused of sticking up for the traitor like Wylan had – just stalked into the bathroom. The door banged shut behind him so violently that one of the miniature vodka bottles on the table fell over.
Jesper winced. “So, uh… Kaz. You haven’t been particularly vocal so far. Not that you’re ever the life of the party, but um…”
Kaz flapped his collar up to conceal his face. Wylan glimpsed the steel in his friend’s eyes and tried not to cringe. Jesper was a dead man walking at this rate.
“Jesper,” Kaz ground out, voice rough with irritation. His mouth was a thin line. He snatched up the room key and turned once to add, before storming out of the room altogether, “You are an idiot.”
Wylan hovered by the window. The hiss of the shower proved that Matthias wasn’t about to return anytime soon and Kaz was always a wildcard, but from that look on his face it seemed doubtful that they’d been seeing him before the evening.
Jesper remained on the bed. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling. Wylan couldn’t read his expression from here, a little dazzled by the sunlight streaming through the window, but he knew Jesper well enough to notice the tiny tells that others would miss, like the tension in his hands, the rigidness in his shoulders, the slight clench of his jaw as he ground his teeth.
“Jes,” Wylan murmured, stepping closer to the bed so that his thighs bumped the edge of the mattress, unsure whether he was welcome to join him. “Are you okay?”
Jesper exhaled slowly. “Just peachy.”
“That’s a no.”
Jesper draped an arm across his face. There was just enough room for Wylan to squeeze onto the bed next to him and while Jesper hadn’t expressly invited him, he hadn’t asked Wylan to leave either. Wylan pried his shoes off, each with the opposite foot, and wriggled into the narrow space, nearly headbutting Jesper’s elbow. He knocked their shoulders together and prodded Jesper’s bicep until Jesper finally lifted his arm and rolled onto his side to look at him.
“What?”
Wylan blinked at him. “What?”
“Stop that.”
“You stop that.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Neither am I. And that’s a lie, you are doing something. You’re moping.”
Jesper opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. “That’s… I…” He shoved Wylan away with an outraged gasp. “Jesper Fahey does not mope.”
“Exactly!” Wylan caught Jesper’s hand mid-air and yanked him upright. “I know this isn’t ideal, but Matthias and Kaz will get over it. In the meantime, we should go out.”
Jesper’s face lit up with a slowly dawning grin. “You, Wylan Van Eck, want to go out on the town with me?”
Wylan shrugged, ducking his head as he felt the heat of a blush working its way up his neck. “Yeah, well,” he muttered self-consciously, sneaking a glance up at Jesper. “It’s Vegas, baby, isn’t that what you said?”
Jesper seized both of Wylan’s hands with a whoop. “Hell yeah! Vegas, baby! Let’s go, Wy! The clubs await!”
The clubs did, in fact, await, but much to Wylan’s pleasant surprise Jesper didn’t immediately make a beeline for the nearest casino. Considering how little he had considered Matthias’ thoughts on spending his last weekend as a bachelor in the city of sin, Jesper certainly seemed to be taking Wylan’s feelings into account a great deal. Instead of swooping into the nearest bar to down a line of shots like they were high-schoolers at their first party all over again – and wow, wasn’t that a cringeworthy memory that Wylan needed to let die already – Jesper took them on a whirlwind tour of the city, making a point to describe the history and fun facts behind the sights. It struck Wylan that either Jesper had suddenly taken up an interest in architecture, or he’d researched Las Vegas for the sole purpose of impressing Wylan.
Despite the time – which put them decidedly into the latter half of the evening by now – the temperature remained high, or perhaps that was simply Wylan’s blush which had refused to die down ever since Jesper had grabbed his hand and tugged him into a twirling, loose-limbed dance to the music of a street busker. Wylan was thirsty – and no, not just because Jesper had tied his shirt into a crop-top to expose unfairly perfect abs – so they let the crowd carry them along until they were swept into the nearest bar. Jesper sidled off to fetch their drinks, claiming that he already knew Wylan’s order off by heart anyway, so Wylan saved them a table and surreptitiously checked his phone.
Kaz was still annoyed, but that was a step down from the murderous intentions he hadn’t quite voiced but had clearly been considering on the plane. Matthias had joined him in the hotel bar for a few drinks and was now beginning to see the benefits of spending a weekend in a city that had almost zero consequences. Wylan didn’t think there was any reason to worry – Matthias and Kaz had long since put aside the strange almost rival-like hatred for each other that they had sported upon their first meeting – and even if Matthias was approaching the wrong side of drunk to be trusted to make sensible decisions, Kaz was there to look out for him. This meant that Wylan only had to focus on one person – Jesper.
“Hey, sunshine,” Jesper greeted with a wink, sliding into the seat beside Wylan to deposit a vibrantly neon drink complete with an umbrella in front of him. “Did ya miss me?”
Wylan would usually have retorted with some sort of sarcastic quip, but he couldn’t quite rid himself of the memory of the faint hurt Jesper had been trying to hide all evening, so instead he propped his chin in his hands, fixed his friend with a smile, and nodded. Jesper blinked, running his thumb around the rim of his glass until it performed that strange high-pitched squeal, a nervous chuckle escaping before he could stifle it. Wylan took pity on him.
“What is this?” He examined the drink, lifting it towards the light to inspect the liquid. “I thought you said you knew my order?”
Jesper shrugged one shoulder. “I said I knew what you’d like,” he corrected. “There’s a difference. Give it a try, go on. You’ll be surprised.”
“A good surprise?”
Jesper pouted. “Wy. C’mon. I want you to have a good night – I’m not trying to poison you.”
“Well, no one can ever be sure when it comes to you.”
Jesper tilted his head. “You can be sure,” he murmured.
Wylan turned his attention back to the drink before his heart could skip another beat.
“Huh,” he commented, twirling the umbrella around the concoction with his thumb. “It’s like Hawaii as a drink.”
Jesper’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my god,” he breathed, delighted. “I can totally see that.”
Wylan dipped his finger in and licked it. The drink was sugary, almost obnoxiously sweet and yet addictive all at once. He took a proper sip. Jesper observed him with a cocky grin.
“Am I good or am I good?”
“You’re annoying,” Wylan informed him.
Jesper clasped a hand to his chest as if he’d been shot. “Mortally wounded. Death by insult. How could you do this to me, your very best friend?”
Wylan took another sip of his drink. “You should have studied acting. You’re dramatic enough.”
“Is that a compliment?”
Wylan shrugged. “It could be.”
“Then I’m taking it as one.”
Jesper drained the rest of his glass and pushed his chair back from the table, eyes gleaming, an almost hungry expression crossing his face as he began a leisurely circle around the room. Wylan leant back in his seat and observed the card game at the centre of the drunken crowd. He didn’t see a problem with letting Jesper make a few gambles – he’d just have to keep a close eye on the stakes and pull him out before they could leave the city bankrupt. In the meantime he took a place at the bar for a better view and admired the way Jesper played, like a hunter, movements quick and smooth like molten metal, electric even in his losses.
Jesper struck lucky for the first few rounds before fortune turned on him as it always did. Wylan slid off his perch and began the tricky task of coaxing Jesper away from the game. It took a little manipulation, but Wylan wasn’t above fighting dirty. The music was roaring and Jesper tilted his head in invitation for Wylan to move closer, to murmur the words directly into his ear. Wylan looped his arms over Jesper’s shoulders so that he was plastered to the man’s back.
“One more game,” Jesper assured him.
“One last round,” Wylan retorted. He licked his lips, liquor still hot in his veins, and whispered against Jesper’s neck, “I’ll make it worth your while if you leave now.” He leaned back just far enough to glimpse Jesper’s smirk.
“Deal.” Jesper held up a fist, dice enclosed – because apparently this had shifted from a card game into something else entirely that Wylan didn’t understand beyond the part where Jesper was definitely losing – and winked. “Wish me luck?”
Wylan brushed a kiss across permanently bruised knuckles, unable to tear his gaze away from Jesper’s. There was something hot and magnetic locking their eyes together and Wylan’s pulse quickened to a thunder in his ears. He jumped at the sudden movement as Jesper rolled the dice and a roar went up around the table.
“What just happened?”
Jesper was frozen. “I…” His voice was a whisper, disbelieving and wondering all at once. He threw himself to his feet in a rush of wild whoops and laughter, arms wrapping around Wylan’s waist and lifting him into the air, spinning them both around. “I fucking won! I won, Wylan, I never win, we won, we won the jackpot, holy fuck baby, we won it!”
“We… won?”
“We won!”
Incredulous laughter bubbled up in his chest like champagne and he couldn’t help but join Jesper’s crazed whooping.
“We won!” Wylan shouted back at him.
Jesper’s smile was brighter than the sun. “We won!”
“We’re the winners!”
Jesper’s laugh was worth more than the jackpot itself. Wylan couldn’t breathe. Jesper’s hands were on his face and drawing him close and Wylan rose onto his tiptoes to meet him halfway and then they were kissing, hot and fierce and real and fuelled by alcohol and adrenaline and yet so sweet all at once.
“I told you,” Jesper whispered against Wylan’s lips. “You’re my good luck charm.”
Wylan tangled his hands in Jesper’s hair and pulled him close. “Shut up and kiss me.”
REALITY E
“You know,” Inej had said, all self-righteous and completely correct which only made her all the more insufferable to Jesper’s ears, “if you absolutely have to bring a date, you probably should choose someone other than your long-term crush to be your fake boyfriend. This is only going to end in tears, Jes. It’s a terrible idea.”
Fast forward a few days and Jesper now accepted that his best friend had been one hundred percent, completely, undeniably right. Not that he was about to admit this to her. Inej had a fascinating ability to say nothing at all and yet translate a sense of smug superiority through looks alone and Jesper was well-used to being on the receiving end of it. He was unwilling to submit himself to such a look just yet, even if he was well aware that it was his inevitable fate in the not-so-distant future. He wanted to get through this wedding at the very least without having his terrible life choices rubbed in his face, especially when the couple exchanging vows happened to be two of his closest friends.
God, it was sickening. Matthias and Nina had gotten together so easily, none of that complicated back-and-forth wondering, questioning, zero self-doubt or deliberating whether or not they liked each other. They’d just known. Jesper could still recall the day Nina had come bouncing into the café they’d both been working at and announced to him that she’d met her future husband.
“Have you been on a single date with him yet?” Inej had asked over their takeout and paused Netflix screen later that day.
“Well, no,” Nina admitted, her feet in Jesper’s lap and her head on Inej’s shoulder like some sort of bizarre housecat. “But sometimes you just know. He’s my soulmate.”
“Soulmate,” Jesper scoffed, as if he didn’t have half a dozen soulmate AU fanfictions open on his phone at any given time. “He could be an axe murderer, or a… or a werewolf.”
Nina arched a brow. “You believe in werewolves but not soulmates?” She waffled a hand. “Irrelevant. The point is that I’m going to marry that boy one day.”
“She was right,” Jesper murmured, four years later, blinking back proud tears as he observed his absolutely stunning, outrageously funny and clever best friend slip a ring onto Matthias’ finger. He was still fighting tears an hour later as he returned to the buffet for the third time because c’mon, free food was free food no matter how emotional you were. It didn’t help that he was in love with the guy he was currently fake dating. God, they woken up spooning. Jesper was never going to be able to look Wylan in the eyes ever again. This was a tragedy, because Wylan had beautiful eyes. Wylan was beautiful full stop, actually.
“Wipe that look off your face,” Kaz ordered, appearing out of nowhere which was an impressive feat for a man with a cane and a sort of presence that had people moving out of his path. “You’re pining again. It’s pathetic.”
“Hey, how is Inej these days?” Jesper retorted without missing a beat.
Kaz’s look could have started and ended a war within a second.
“I’ll let that slide,” he said after a moment, albeit rather slowly with a grating edge that promised this wouldn’t be the last time Jesper would hear of this incident for a very long time to come. “Jesper.”
Jesper shovelled more potatoes onto his plate and fixed his gaze on the pasta salad. He wasn’t even a big fan – he just needed an excuse to avoid Kaz’s searching stare.
“Jes.” Kaz sounded surprisingly gentle. “Are you alright?”
Jesper let the serving spoon fall back into the potatoes with a metallic thud. He whirled around to face Kaz, unable to keep the bite out of his voice.
“I just spent twenty-four hours with Wylan describing how we got together, what our first date was like, how we’re planning to move in together, kissing me, dancing with me, telling me he loves me, and none of it is real.”
Kaz quirked a brow. “I did tell you this was a terrible idea, repeatedly in fact. I believe Inej warned you against this plan as well.”
“I couldn’t turn up to a wedding alone, that’s just sad. I mean, you took Nina as your plus one rather than go by yourself because Inej was busy when your brother got married.”
“You would have looked rather pathetic,” Kaz agreed, and Jesper threw his hands in the air, “but somehow this is worse.”
Jesper let his shoulders slump. Nina was busy coaxing people onto the dancefloor, so the focus was entirely on the disco end of the room, leaving him safely concealed by shadows.
“I get it,” he muttered. “You told me so, Inej told me so, I’m an idiot, it’s all old news. You want to know how I’m doing, Kaz? Kinda terribly, actually. Nina and Matthias just got married, you and Inej are destined to end up together, and I’m in love with someone who doesn’t like me back. It fucking sucks, alright? It just… it really sucks.”
“Even after all these years, Jesper, you still continue to surprise me…”
Jesper frowned. “Thanks?”
“…With how consistently dense you manage to be.”
“And there it is.” Jesper stabbed one of the potatoes on his plate with a fork. The aggression did nothing to curb his bad mood. “Do you have a point, Brekker, or are you just here to add fuel to the fire that is my self-loathing?”
“Get over yourself,” Kaz told him.
“Screw you,” Jesper muttered, shouldering past him.
Kaz’s cane whacked into his shins. Jesper caught his balance on the back of a nearby chair, just managing to save his plate before he could drop roast potatoes across perfectly polished floorboards. His heart hammered as though he’d run a marathon. He set his plate down on the table and turned back to Kaz, irritation prickling under his collar.
“Are you serious right now?”
Kaz’s lips twitched with a crooked smirk. “I just thought you’d like to know that Wylan and Inej have been having a near identical conversation out on the balcony.”
Jesper was too sober for this. “What?”
Kaz tutted. “This is what I mean by dense. Talk to your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my real boyfriend.”
“Exactly. That’s the problem, so fix it Fahey, before we all lose our minds from frustration.”
It was hardly a secret that Jesper loved a party – it didn’t even have to be a particularly good party, although it usually turned into one once he rocked up – and as most of the guests here were Nina’s friends and therefore also Jesper’s friends by proxy, it raised a few eyebrows when he steered clear of the dancefloor. He couldn’t bring himself to care. The not-so-subtle whispers he overheard on his way to the bar theorised that he’d argued with Wylan, perhaps even broken up, which burnt nearly as fiercely as the alcohol in his veins because how could you end a relationship that you’d never even begun?
“Jesper,” Inej greeted him a little while later, sliding onto a chair beside him. “I love you, so you know that it’s with the greatest affection when I tell you I am very tempted to strangle you right now.”
Jesper dropped his head onto the bar with a thud. “Please do. End my misery. Or get me another drink, whichever is easier.”
“This entire situation is excruciating,” Inej continued, far too used to his antics to bother with indulging him. “Did you know that Wylan has been in tears out on the balcony for most of the evening?”
“What?” Jesper bolted upright so quickly that the room spun around him. Inej steadied him with a hand to the shoulder until the light-headedness receded enough for him to find his feet. He caught her knowing gaze. “Wylan’s upset? Why? Did someone say something to him? Who do I have to kill?”
Kaz appeared on his other side. “Do we have to spell it out for you?”
“Kaz,” Inej chided. “Play nice.”
Kaz scrutinised Jesper doubtfully. “I have been playing nice. It’s not my fault that Jesper doesn’t have a single brain cell rattling around in that head of his.”
“Thanks man,” Jesper muttered. “Really feeling the love right now.”
Kaz stole Jesper’s glass out from under his nose and drained it before Jesper even had the chance to protest.
“Wylan’s in love with you,” he stated simply, cutting off Jesper’s spluttered exclamations.
Inej swatted his arm. “Kaz Brekker, we promised Wylan we wouldn’t tell.”
“You made a promise,” Kaz replied dryly. “I did not.”
Inej’s sigh spoke of exasperation carefully honed over a decade of friendship. “Why do I even try?”
“I’m not sure,” Kaz replied, lips twitching with the effort to conceal his smile. “Why do you?”
Inej’s gaze softened. “You’re insufferable.”
“So I’ve been told.” Kaz offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Inej leaned over to brush a kiss against Jesper’s cheek. “Good luck, Jes.”
“Yes, Jes,” Nina squawked as she twirled past just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. “Go get your man!”
“Actually,” Matthias cut in, looking a little sheepish, “you might have a slight problem there.” He sounded genuinely apologetic even as Jesper’s heart sunk. “Wylan already left.”
“What?” Nina’s gasp was outraged. “When?”
“About two minutes ago.” Matthias checked his watch. “If you run, you can probably still catch him.”
Jesper didn’t hesitate. His friends’ voices were a chorus of supportive, slightly drunken shouts behind him, mingling with the distance thrum of music and singing. His head was a little fuzzy from drink, but his heart’s frantic pounding was enough to sober him up, especially when combined with the front of cold air that smacked into his face as he burst through the front doors. Gravel crunched under his dress shoes, fine rain collecting on his lashes. He blinked droplets away, pushing his aching muscles into a sprint as he finally glimpsed that familiar figure by the gates at the end of the driveway.
“Wylan!”
Wylan double-took. “Jesper?”
Jesper skidded to a halt. “You can’t leave yet,” he croaked out, trying to talk and catch his breath at the same time. “Not yet. I have to tell you something first.”
Wylan chewed his lower lip, eyes wide and glistening. He wrapped his arms around his chest and took a step back. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I know I agreed to this entire fake relationship, but it was a mistake.”
“I know!”
Wylan shook his head. “I don’t think you do know, Jes.” He forced a smile, even though it was cracked and splintering at the edges. “I don’t want to make things awkward between us, so it’s best if I leave now before I say anything I’ll regret.”
“Would you let me speak?”
“Jesper, I really don’t think…”
“I want to be your boyfriend! For real this time, none of that fake crap, because that was a joke from the start…” Jesper held Wylan’s gaze, searching for any hint of a lie, looking for the truth, considering that fine boundary between trust and naivety. “I’m in love with you and I have been for years. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer… I like your stupid face, okay?”
Wylan stared at him.
“Uh, Wylan?” Jesper scuffed his shoes against the gravel. “Can you say something?”
“You love me?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“This isn’t another part of the fake dating thing, or…?”
Jesper tossed his hands in the air. “Do you need me to keep repeating it until you believe me? Because I will. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love…”
“You,” Wylan finished for him, face brightening with a million-dollar smile. “You love me.”
Jesper ducked his head. “Apparently so.”
Wylan’s hands were hot on his face, raising his chin so that they were impossibly close and Jesper forgot how to breathe.
“Guess what?” Wylan murmured. His laughter rang across the driveway, warm and everything Jesper had ever wanted. “I like your stupid face too.”
REALITY F
No matter how many times Wylan had witnessed Jesper’s act, his boyfriend never failed to take his breath away. Jesper seemed more than merely human when he was in the ring, a character forged from fire and gunpowder and the scratch of sand underfoot, the scent of popcorn in the air and sweat salty across his skin, splitting the line between impossibility and reality with a single perfectly aimed bullet.
Wylan remained as enchanted by the sharpshooter as he had been the first time he’d laid eyes on him. Now, chin pillowed in his hands as he propped his elbows on the edge of the ring, he observed Jesper’s coattails glittering in the spotlight, revolvers gleaming, targets spinning a tangled mess of colour and promise around him. Even though it was just a practise for tonight’s show, it seemed just as magical to Wylan as the real thing.
Jesper caught sight of him and broke into a smile. “Hey, Wy. I thought you were practising until five?”
He set his guns down on the side table and bounded across the ring. Little flurries of sand danced in his wake. He swung himself over the barrier and greeted Wylan with a kiss.
Wylan smiled into the kiss. “Kaz let me go early, but I think Inej may have had something to do with that.”
“Bless that woman,” Jesper drawled, eyes bright with mischief. “Ooh, wait, I have a new shot I’ve been practising. I wanna grab your opinion before I show it to Kaz.”
Wylan leant against barrier to watch. “Is this going to give me a heart attack?”
“Probably,” Jesper admitted. “But it looks hella cool.”
Wylan grinned. “Go on then. Show me.”
As predicted, his heart did skip a beat, but he could never tell if that was due to the potentially fatal danger posed by the act or a result of how spectacular Jesper looked performing it. Wylan wasn’t surprised when Jesper slipped into his tent an hour later to declare that Kaz had given him the go-ahead to add the new shot to that night’s show as a trial to see how the crowd would react.
“That’s amazing,” he replied, trying to focus on his boyfriend and on applying eyeliner at the same time. It was a delicate balance that could very easily end in either Jesper sulking or Wylan accidentally impaling himself on a charcoal pencil.
He propped his elbows on the edge of the table and peered closely at his reflection. The eyeliner, according to Nina, was necessary, a part of his performance. She was right to a certain extent: being in the ring was the truest to himself Wylan had ever been, but it was also the furthest from himself he’d ever been – the eyeliner was part of the process that bound the two together. He looked like someone else, someone adventurous with a hint of mystery – a performer that people cheered for night after night. It was a far cry from the timid boy he’d been all those years ago, before he’d fled those cold stone walls and been picked up by Inej who claimed she could see potential in him.
Jesper flopped onto the bed behind Wylan, slipping off his coat and wrapping Wylan’s abandoned blanket around his shoulders like a cape. He caught Wylan’s eyes in the mirror and winked.
“Lookin’ good, sunshine.”
Wylan pretended to examine the eyeliner pencil in front of him to hide the fondness in his exasperated smile. Behind him there came a protesting squeak from the mattress as Jesper rolled onto his front and buried his face in threadbare pillows. Wylan waited for any mumbled queries or remarks, but Jesper simply melted into the blankets without further comment.
Wylan returned to the mirror. It may have come as a surprise to the rest of the crew, but a silent Jesper wasn’t as unusual as one might expect. In fact, a silent Jesper normally meant a relaxed Jesper, which was the greatest show of trust Wylan could hope for – Jesper was eternally on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Even after all these years, he still didn’t believe that Kaz cared about him, which seemed ridiculous to Wylan who had witnessed the fond looks their circus master directed at each of them whenever he thought he could get away with it unnoticed.
Music had begun to whisper of a night to remember. That distinctive purr of the generators kicked into life. Wylan could feel the vibrations through the floor. He tilted back in his chair to sneak a peek through the gap in the tent flaps. Matthias was strolling across the clearing, already in costume, a faint shimmering of glitter highlighting sharp cheekbones courtesy of Nina. Somewhere, Inej was singing – high notes, almost akin to a siren song, so very beautiful and captivating – and Wylan closed his eyes to listen until the distinct rap of a cane against the edge of his table made him jump.
“Hi, boss,” Jesper greeted, voice muffled by the pillows. He turned his head to the side and opened one eye to inspect Kaz’s expression. “We good for tonight?”
“Ticket sales are up,” Kaz replied simply, which was his equivalent of a yes. His usual scowl was missing – the closest to a smile that he ever got before a show. “Why aren’t you getting ready?”
Jesper flung an arm towards the ceiling with a dramatic sigh. “I’m beautiful enough already. I don’t need a fancy costume to charm the crowd.”
“It does help though,” Wylan pointed out, trying not to laugh at the offended expression Jesper treated him to.
Kaz knocked his cane against Jesper’s knee, earning an outraged yelp. “Get up. Get dressed. Eat something too, I don’t want you passing out in the ring again. It’s terrible for publicity.”
“That happened one time, Kaz, would you stop bringing it up? It’s been years.”
Kaz’s lips twitched with a repressed smile. “Eat something,” he reiterated, voice gruff in a way that spelled trouble if Jesper tried to argue any further. “Wylan, I’m putting you on before Inej tonight.”
“Wait, what?” Wylan twisted in his chair to face his boss. “Why?”
Kaz arched a brow. “Variety keeps tickets selling,” he drawled, eyes glimmering with a hint of amusement and that familiar scheming spark which proved there was another underlying plan here that he wasn’t going to tell anyone about until they’d all already danced to his tune. His tone softened slightly. “You’ll be fine, Wylan. The only thing that’s changing is the order of the acts, that’s all. You don’t have to perform anything differently.”
“Am I hallucinating, or is Kaz Brekker attempting to comfort someone?” Jesper quipped, lolling on his back now to observe Kaz with a cheeky smile.
Kaz’s sigh was a heavily exasperated, full-body thing, complete with an eyeroll that any teenager would be envious of. “Behave yourself, Jes. People will be arriving soon.”
Jesper pretended to tip a hat. “Aye, boss-man.” He frowned. “Hey, I’m extremely professional. When do I ever misbehave?”
“Would you like that list alphabetised or in numerical order?”
Wylan choked on a laugh. Kaz swept out of the tent, coattails flapping behind him, the closest thing to a dramatic entrance that he could make without admitting he secretly loved being That Bitch (to quote Nina). There was a faint thud as Jesper rolled off the bed and miscalculated the distance between the mattress and the floor. Wylan slipped on his jacket to protect his costume until showtime from any of the usual carnage of a travelling circus, and prodded Jesper’s ribs with one foot.
Jesper blinked up at him, eyes wide and bright with crocodile tears. “You kicked me. Betrayed by my own boyfriend. I’ll never recover from such heartbreak.”
“Oh, quit being so dramatic,” Wylan sighed, offering Jesper a hand. “C’mon, I’m hungry, and Kaz has a point about the whole passing out in the ring thing.”
“One time, Wy!” Jesper squawked, prancing ahead and sweeping the tent flap aside with an outraged flourish. “One time, but will you lot let it die? No. Not a chance. This is bullying. I’m going to sue all of you.”
“Thanks,” Wylan teased. “I love you too.”
Jesper rolled his shoulders. “Well… maybe I won’t sue you… but Kaz…” He held a finger aloft, whirling around to face Wylan. “Kaz had better be very scared.”
“I don’t think Kaz is scared of anything. Except maybe Inej’s wrath. But you’d be an idiot if you weren’t scared of Inej when she’s angry, and Kaz is certainly not an idiot.”
“Eh.” Jesper cast a surreptitious glance around to check for prying ears before whispering, “debatable.”
Wylan looped his arm through Jesper’s with a laugh and set about dragging him towards the food tent before his boyfriend could sniff out any trouble and wind up delaying the entire show. It had happened in the past and Matthias still brought it up whenever there was so much as a hint of traffic on the road: yes it’s annoying being held up like this, but nothing will ever be as bad as that time Jesper nearly got that performance cancelled…
Early summer brought lighter evenings, but the spring chill was still hanging around, dew drops gathering on leaves and a faint bounce to the grass that would disappear as soon as the heat hazes arrived come July. The sun was beginning to melt into the horizon, covering the land in a warm glow.
Wylan was aware of Jesper watching him with that fond, undeniably lovestruck expression, memorising the way the light played across their joined hands. Surrounded by the familiar sounds of the set-up crew and the distinctive smell of salty-sweet popcorn and candyfloss, voices beginning to drift across from the ticket booths, Wylan was at home, and he took a moment to revel in that wonderful sense of belongingness.
Nina was lounging in the back of Matthias’ battered pickup truck, the peeling advertisement for the circus on the side gleaming in the dusk light. She was working her way through a plate of bread rolls, generously lavished with rich butter. Inej sat beside her, perched delicately on one of the many pillows, a sea of blankets covering the cold metal of the truck-bed. She lifted a hand in greeting as Jesper took a running jump at the vehicle and used the momentum to swing himself into truck.
Nina scrambled out of his way with a screech. “Jesper! Mind the bread!”
Jesper bonked his forehead against her shoulder like an affectionate housecat. “Is there any left for me?”
“Get your own food,” Nina hissed, shoving her last bread roll into her mouth, cheeks bulging like a hamster as she attempted to chew and talk at the same time. Jesper sniggered at her. Inej cast her eyes skyward but didn’t speak. Wylan leant against the truck, pillowing his cheek on a folded arm, admiring the sea of colourful lights blinking into life across the grounds.
Inej hopped down from the truck. “Have you eaten yet?”
Wylan shook his head. “Jes? What do you want? I’ll bring you something back.”
“You’re the light of my life,” Jesper announced, untangling himself from Nina’s side-hug in order to lean over and kiss Wylan’s forehead. “I’m easy, by the way, I’ll eat whatever you get.”
“Oh, we know you’re easy,” Nina mused sarcastically. “All Wylan has to do is smile at you and you melt.”
“Hey, Nina?” Jesper grinned with a bite to his voice. “Get fucked.”
Nina sniggered and elbowed him. Jesper let it slide. Inej shook her head fondly and led the way across the grassy clearing to the designated cooking tent. There was quite a queue and by the time they got back to the truck dusk had well and truly settled. Wylan curled up against Jesper’s side, licking salt from his fingertips, and watched the gentle stream of traffic cruising into the carpark. It was looking to be quite the crowd tonight, and he felt that familiar rush of nerves and excitement igniting butterflies in his stomach.
The Crows Circus hadn’t gained its reputation for putting on anything less than a stellar show. Matthias laid claim to the opening act, shortly followed by Nina. Wylan usually swept in for the final few seconds of Inej’s performance, but tonight he found himself waiting in the shadows while Nina owned the spotlight. His heart was pounding, he had to keep wiping sweat off his palms, and there was a pit in his stomach from the weight of his nerves, but then he was out there, centre-stage, capturing cheers and claps and the gasps of wonder. For a few precious minutes, he was magical, the one inspiring others, but more than that – he was free. It was an addictive feeling and it was one that left him smiling like a madman long after his act had finished.
Jesper was the penultimate performance. He played the crowd like a fiddle, as always. No matter how many times Wylan had witnessed his boyfriend in the ring, he always found his heart stuttering and his ability to breathe escaping him, right alongside all those wide-eyed people in the audience. But then the smoke cleared and Jesper gave an exaggerated bow, all glitter and grins and a wink to the nearest person, spinning in a wide circle. For a split second his gaze caught Wylan’s and that confident performer persona dropped, just for an instant, replaced by pure affection, and Wylan fell in love with him all over again.
The show ended, because that was how life worked, but it wasn’t really an ending as such, just a pause, because they had another performance tomorrow. Wylan walked alongside Jesper, enjoying the balmy evening and humouring Jesper’s demands for popcorn, their joined hands swinging between them.
“Guess what?” Jesper said, tipping his head back to catch the popcorn he’d just tossed into the air.
Wylan stole some of the popcorn. “What?”
“I love you.”
Wylan rose onto his toes to kiss his boyfriend’s cheek. “I love you too.”
REALITY G
Once upon a time, Jesper Fahey had had dreams; big dreams and enough wishes to run out of shooting stars. Of course, that had been before he’d been met with the battering ram that was reality, and it was certainly before he’d turned his life into a complete mess. His prospects had gone from average to the equivalent of a burning dumpster truck. When Inej had offered him a job at the coffee shop, it was between that or living out of a cardboard box on a street corner, so it hadn’t really been a choice at all. The coffee shop may have dulled his senses and left him more bored than a kid in maths class, but at least it paid the bills and kept him from gambling his way into an early grave.
Of course, the coffee shop had gone from merely keeping his head above water to introducing the first light into his life that he’d had in a very long time. He wasn’t expecting to meet the love of his life on a miserable Monday morning in November, still hungover from the night before and wearing his shirt inside out, but sometimes these things just happened. Wylan wandered into his life with an unnecessarily complicated coffee order with enough sugar to stop a heart – or to capture one, as had happened with Jesper’s – and a notebook full of complicated chemistry equations. Fast forward a few months and now they owned an apartment together, as well as a tabby cat that insisted on sleeping on Jesper’s chest at night - and Jesper just let him because Milo was too cute with his little toe beans and Jesper was weak.
Inej claimed to take credit for their entire relationship. She had a point, but Jesper wasn’t about to admit as much. The trill of the bell above the front door was a welcome diversion.
“Hi,” a familiar voice greeted him, slightly more put-together and less rough from sleep than it sounded that morning when Jesper had whispered goodbye before leaving for work. “Can I grab my usual?”
“I don’t know,” Jesper retorted, flashing a smile at his boyfriend. “Can you?”
Wylan checked his watch. “Well, I have a lab booked for twenty minutes’ time and I really need caffeine before I get there, so hopefully the answer is yes.”
Jesper reached across the counter to bop one of the freckles on Wylan’s nose. Hovering by the sink, Inej cooed. Jesper flipped her off, the crude gesture safely hidden behind the coffee machine so that none of the other customers could complain. Inej rolled her eyes.
“Do you want me to add pumpkin spice to that, Wy?” she asked, moving to slide a cookie into a takeaway bag to go with Wylan’s coffee because she had a not-so-secret soft spot for him that everyone knew about yet never called her out on.
Wylan’s smile was enough to tempt Jesper to ditch work and drag him back to their apartment because goddam.
“That would be great, thanks Inej.”
“Thanks, Inej,” Jesper mimicked, trying not to sound like a sulking five-year-old but hearing the similarities even as he spoke. He sheepishly met Wylan’s exasperated look and lifted his hands in surrender.
“You’re such a child sometimes,” Inej commented, sweeping past to retrieve the sugar sachets from beside Jesper. The coffee machine thrummed behind her. Jesper tipped forwards to rest his forehead against Wylan’s chest, trying not to smile as he felt Wylan petting his hair.
It was going to be a long day, especially as he was working until six to cover Matthias’ shift as the other man had booked leave months ago, before Kaz had left, and so Inej had to honour it even if there was no one else left to work, leaving Jesper with a full-day shift. He was already tired, and it was barely eight in the morning. He suspected he was going to be making himself several cups of coffee to make it through the day.
“Tired?” Wylan asked, reading his mind.
Jesper made a noncommittal noise that loosely translated as kill me and can we go home and kiss some more at the same time. He reluctantly stood up, stifling a yawn in his sleeve, mentally making note of all the tasks he had to complete before the lunchtime rush. There were tables to be wiped before those sticky rings could set into the woodwork, the ice machine needed cleaning, the dishwasher hadn’t been emptied yet and someone needed to head out back to fetch more takeaway cups from the garage. His very soul longed for his bed, to be curled up amid outrageously soft blankets with Wylan’s arms around his waist and the cat’s paws kneading his chest in a demand for more kibble.
“Here.” Wylan broke his free cookie in half and slid part of it across the counter. It was the M&M type with a gooey centre, extra sweet – a diabetic nightmare really. Jesper picked it up and nibbled at the edge, struck by a wave of affection for the man in front of him. He got this sometimes – a sort of realisation, as if someone had shaken up his brain to remind him to focus on the present.
“Thanks,” he murmured, unable to voice the emotions that he couldn’t begin to explain but hoping that Wylan could translate them from his tone alone.
Wylan caught his hand, ignoring the traces of chocolate and coffee powder – Jesper made a mental note to stick his boyfriend’s lab coat in the washer later because while it was crisp and clean now it clearly wasn’t going to stay that for very long – and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“See you tonight?” Wylan asked, gaze flickering to Inej in question.
Inej sighed. “When do you finish your lab session?”
Wylan zoned out for a second, counting the hours in his head. “About four?”
“Jesper, you can go at four then. I’ll cover the rest of Matthias’ shift.”
Jesper blinked. “Are you sure?”
Inej gave a good-natured smile. “It’s not like I have plans for tonight. Kaz is still out of town and Nina’s working until seven.” She nodded towards Wylan. “Go on, have fun. Let me live vicariously through you.”
“Inej,” Jesper told her as seriously as he could manage without laughing. “You’re an actual angel.”
Wylan beamed. “I’ll see you at four then. Am I cooking or do you want to book a table somewhere?”
Jesper drummed a hand against the counter. “I’ll try to get a reservation. That place by the canal? I’ll text you if I can get a table.”
“Sounds good.” Wylan shrugged his backpack higher onto his shoulders and scooped up his takeaway cup from Inej’s hands. “Gotta go, I’m running late. Thanks for everything, Inej! Love you Jes! Bye!”
Jesper made an affronted noise. “Um, excuse me… you nearly forgot something…”
“Oh my god,” Wylan exclaimed as he doubled back on himself. “I just said I’m going to be late.”
“Yes, but this is important.” Jesper leant across the counter to give Wylan a quick kiss. “There, now you can go.”
“Idiot,” Wylan laughed, swatting his boyfriend’s arm. “Love you.”
Inej giggled softly as Wylan nearly walked into the door. “You’re cute together,” she commented, lightly elbowing Jesper as she squeezed past him to reach the sink again.
Jesper grinned. “Hell yeah we are.”
REALITY H
Being a prince sounded far better on paper than it actually was in practice. In reality, a lot of Wylan’s time was spent trying not to collapse in on himself. There were always eyes on him, observing, judging, seeking weaknesses to exploit – and there were a lot, Wylan would willingly admit that. He wasn’t the cold, calculating monarch that his father was. He couldn’t be ruthless, couldn’t make decisions that would affect thousands of his people without a second thought. He couldn’t swing a sword like it was an extra limb – forget the weapons for a moment, he couldn’t even wear the armour most days because it was too heavy and cut into his skin to leave harsh welts.
The court laughed at him, not even waiting for him to leave the room, and it wasn’t a secret that he would never wear the crown. No one would accept him as king. It should have been a relief, but Wylan knew what happened to princes without thrones. Death had stalked him for so long that it should have been an old friend by now, but all he ever felt was fear.
He reflected on this last thought as he examined his pale reflection in the mirror. The water was icy and made him shiver as it trickled under his shirt when he splashed his face in an attempt to shock himself out of the spiral. His hands were trembling. He curled them into fists and forced a smile. His eyes burnt. He swiped away the tears and inhaled, nearly choking on the shuddering breath. His heart seemed to stutter. It would be easier, in a way, if it stopped altogether, here and now, because it would save him the fear later on, the fear that was as far away as his death was, which was to say not very far away at all because his father had ordered him on a hunt to prepare for the feast.
Wylan was not a hunter. He knew exactly what this trip’s true purpose was. With two newly born heirs to the throne, he was no longer needed, just a loose end that needed to be tied up. Part of him – a very small part mind you – wanted to be angry, was indignant at the way he was being treated as nothing more than a spare part that had fulfilled its usefulness and was now to be thrown away and replaced with a newer, superior model. But the rest of him was simply tired of it all.
Except… it wasn’t this supposed hunting trip that he was afraid of. No, that title went to fear of the unknown, because for the first time in his life Wylan had been given a choice, and he had opted for a new life far away from everything he’d grown up with. He was less than five minutes away from flying off the end of the world without knowing whether what lay beyond was anything better than death.
“I should probably warn you,” a certain dragon-lord called through the door, accompanied by a faint rumble and the skitter-scratch of talons against flagstones, “Milo is getting pretty anxious out here. He doesn’t like castles very much. I mean, you can’t exactly blame him, not with the entire purge on dragons thing your dad has going on.”
Wylan sniffed. His voice wobbled a little, but the tears had subsided somewhat with the reminder that the boy he was in love with was waiting to spirit him away from his fate on the other side of the door. The king would not win today, not when Jesper was dealing the cards of destiny, and Wylan was still in disbelief.
“They’re going to kill me,” he’d told Jesper a few days before, sort of matter-of-factly but also terrified out of his mind and unable to keep his voice free of fear. “They’ll do it in the forest and claim it was an accident, an arrow gone astray during the hunt. It’s on my father’s orders, so they have no choice but to obey.”
“Fly away with me,” Jesper had replied without missing a beat. “You’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. C’mon. Milo likes you. Actually, he says that he views you as some sort of strange scaleless hatchling, but that’s a compliment, trust me. You can live with us and meet Nina and Inej and Matthias and Kaz. Well, Kaz is pretty terrifying, but he’d do anything for the people he loves, and he’ll definitely love you. He’ll probably try to adopt you, actually, so if you don’t mind that… And then there’s me of course. I love you more than anything…. Hush Milo, stop complaining, I love you too… so I’m really hoping you’ll say yes, because otherwise I’ll have no choice but to swoop in at the last moment and save you, but running away now would be a lot easier.”
“Okay.”
Jesper blinked. “Just like that?”
Wylan put his head on Jesper’s shoulder with a weary sigh. “My family wants to kill me. I either get to die or to run away with the person I love. It’s not really a choice at all, is it?”
Jesper had broken into a smile to rival the dawn sun. “Hey,” he added, a hint of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Milo asks if he can eat your dad.”
“I think a dragon eating the king would start a war.”
“It would be funny though. Your dad deserves it.”
Now, through the door, Jesper reiterated this point. “Milo’s getting hungry, Wy. I’m not saying there’s a king nearby who would make a very handy dragon-sized snack, but… well, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
Wylan took one last look in the mirror at the Crown Prince staring back then turned away, towards the future, towards the person he would become, whoever that may be. When he opened the door, Jesper fell through it.
“Hi,” he grinned up at Wylan. “How’s it going?”
“Why are you on the floor?”
Jesper heaved a dramatic sigh. “You were taking too long.” He propped himself up on an elbow, head tilted as he listened to something any pureblood humans without the ability to speak in dragon tongue would not be able to hear. He caught the door handle and swung himself to his feet, moving behind Wylan in a single fluid motion, and planted his hands on Wylan’s shoulders as if to steady him. “A word of warning,” he announced cheerfully. “You’ve got incoming.”
Wylan didn’t get a chance to question this before a familiar blue snout thrust through the window and snorted at his clothes, nosing at his hands in demand of pats. A stray spark settled and died on the flagstones. Across the citadel, alarm bells began to chime. Jesper narrowed his eyes, planting his hands on his hips.
“Milo.” His tone was chastising. “We had an agreement. You were supposed to stay camouflaged.”
Milo snorted another spark. Jesper patted down his fireproof coat and merely arched a brow, decidedly unimpressed by his dragon’s antics. Wylan ran a hand along smooth scales and glimpsed an indigo eye studying him through the window. He scratched the itchy spot just under Milo’s chin and earnt a pleased rumble, which was a dragon’s equivalent of a purr.
“So.” Jesper swung Wylan’s lone bag over his shoulder and tapped his foot, agitation mixing with his instinctive desire to leap into action. He leant against Milo’s snout, eyes glowing a faint gold as Milo murmured something over their cognitive connection. “Are you ready?”
Wylan swallowed. Despite everything, he’d still grown up here, and the idea of leaving to never return seemed as strange as the sun not setting at the end of the day. Having said that, a few years ago, before he’d snuck out and been rescued from bandits by a boy on a dragon, he wouldn’t have ever considered a relationship with Jesper a possibility, and yet here they were.
“Yes,” he agreed, reaching for Jesper’s hand. “I’m ready.”
No matter how many times Wylan had snuck out to meet Jesper for a night-time adventure, flying never got old. It was the closest Wylan could imagine to experiencing freedom as a physical emotion.
Jesper seemed far more at home in the sky than he ever did on land, leaning into Milo’s turns and inclines without a need for words, but then again they were soul-bonded – flying was in Jesper’s blood as much as royalty was technically in Wylan’s. He revelled in the danger posed by thunderstorms and weather fronts and the roar of the wind in his ears. Wylan had witnessed him pull off stunts that should never have even existed as a thought in the first place, yet alone actually carried out, but Jesper constantly pushed the boundaries to a point beyond recklessness and came away with nothing other than a smile and an adrenaline-rush. Perhaps the universe simply shone brighter on dragon-lords than on ordinary human folk, or maybe it was simply a Jesper trait – to tear up reality’s rule book and make up a new story as he went along.
But tonight wasn’t for crazy tricks or schemes. Once they reached the furthest border of the Van Eck kingdom, it was no longer a night for fleeing either. It was a night for dreaming and chasing after said dreams. Wylan hadn’t ever allowed himself to dream before he’d met Jesper, but now he was free to wish on as many stars as he wanted – and from up here, cruising above the clouds with Milo’s body a warm weight beneath them, he could see an infinite galaxy of glittering lights.
“Cold?” Jesper queried as Wylan tightened his grip around his boyfriend’s waist. “Milo, turn up the fire a little, would ya?”
Milo warbled, flapping one wing in irritation, but obediently increased the surface temperature of his scales. Wylan felt warmth seep through his clothes and patted Milo’s back to convey his gratitude.
“Where are we headed?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the night breeze.
Jesper gestured to the mountains in the far distance. “My village is just beyond the tallest peak. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes unless Milo decides to go hunting instead.”
Milo grumbled a little stream of fire.
Jesper grinned. “Milo says we’re heading straight home.” He twisted slightly to glimpse Wylan over his shoulder. “How are you doing, by the way? This is a really big step, you must be pretty overwhelmed.”
Wylan shrugged, craning his neck to glimpse the stars once more. “I mean yes, but also… I was going to die, Jes, that’s insane… It’s only just beginning to hit me.”
Jesper reached for Wylan’s hand. “I would never have let that happen.” Milo rumbled. “Milo says he would have eaten anyone who tried to hurt you, and I know I have a rule about not letting him eat people, but I would totally have let him on that occasion.”
Wylan laughed. “I just can’t believe this is real.”
Jesper hummed. “It’s real alright.”
“You rescued me.” Wylan tucked his face into the crook of Jesper’s neck to muffle his laughter as he teased, “my hero.”
“Damn straight I am.”
Milo flapped a wing.
Jesper rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, buddy, we get it. You’re a hero too.”
“You’re both my heroes,” Wylan assured them.
Jesper sniffed. “But… I’m your favourite, right?”
“Yes, love,” Wylan promised him. “You’re my favourite.”
REALITY I
The gentle tip-tap on the window was as light as rain. In fact, if Wylan were anybody else living any other life, he probably would have assumed it were just that – faint drizzle picking up pace to form a fully-fledged cloud burst. In fact, as he lived on the fifth floor of an apartment block, the idea that it could be a person knocking on the glass should have been ridiculous, completely out of the question, bordering on paranoia. However it was simply a standard occurrence when your boyfriend was an infamous vigilante who was constantly rolling through your bedroom window with a brilliant smile that was completely inappropriate given that 99% of these visits coincided with some sort of injury that required immediate attention.
Wylan kicked away his duvet and slid across the floorboards with a heavy sigh to roll up the window. It was dark outside – winter had set in early this year and the city was shivering under a thick blanket of drizzle – but he spotted a familiar masked figure clinging to the side of the building. He stepped back from the window to let Jesper clamber through, landing lightly on the floor in a classic superhero pose.
“Show off,” Wylan teased, leaning over him to close the window.
Jesper tugged off his mask and shook his head, sending droplets of water everywhere like some sort of damp dog after a walk. He raked a hand through his hair and offered Wylan that same smile that Wylan had fallen for after just one date, nearly two years ago but for that final week to go before their anniversary. Realistically speaking, both of them knew that Wylan would never remain mad at him for long, but that didn’t stop Wylan from attempting to sound angry whenever Jesper traipsed rainwater over the floor… such as right now.
“Seriously?” Wylan stared at him, trying to look as unimpressed as humanly possible.
Jesper flailed his arms. “It’s raining. It’s not like I can control the weather, babe.”
Wylan relented with another sigh. “I’ll get you a towel.”
“Thank you,” Jesper called after him, struggling out of his suit and losing his balance. There was a heavy thud. Wylan winced. “I’m okay!”
Despite the fact that Jesper had gotten filthy water all over the floor and was interrupting Wylan’s precious Netflix time, there was the slight issue of Wylan being hopelessly in love with him. This meant that Wylan chose the fluffiest towel that he could find and spent five minutes warming it in the dryer. By the time he got back, Jesper was standing in just his underwear, attempting to dab at the gash across his stomach with a tissue.
Past Wylan would have shut down in the face of a mostly naked Jesper Fahey in his bedroom. It was unfair to have abs that fantastic, but then again Jesper did run around rooftops fighting bad guys most nights which was a far better workout than Wylan’s walk to the lab and back for his internship. Present Wylan still appreciated the sight but would definitely appreciate it far more if his boyfriend would gain even the slightest streak of self-preservation.
“Jes.” Wylan handed his boyfriend the towel, something warm and undeniably fond igniting in his chest as Jesper buried his face in the fabric with a sleepy smile. “Let me?” He reached for the tissue, tentatively easing Jesper’s hand away so that he could get a better look at the wound.
Jesper hissed between gritted teeth. Wylan retracted his hand, tossing the bloodied tissue into the wastebin by the desk.
“That might need stitches.”
Jesper shook his head vehemently. “No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not happening.”
“At least let me clean it properly.”
Jesper’s shoulders slumped. “Alright,” he mumbled scrubbing the towel across his head, obediently following Wylan towards the bathroom.
“You know,” Wylan said conversationally, once he had Jesper sat on the closed toilet lid under the bright LEDs, a well-stocked first-aid kit spilling its innards across the tiles. “You could always use the front door rather than the window.”
“I’m either getting major déjà vu, or we’ve had this conversation before.”
Wylan didn’t say anything, just eased dried blood away from the edges of the gash and dabbed antiseptic onto some cotton wool. It was best to remain quiet if you wanted to get Jesper to talk, simply because he hated silence so much that he’d say anything just to break it. Wylan had won most arguments this way.
As predicted, Jesper gave in first.
“Look,” he said quietly, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes with a wince, voice strained as the antiseptic stung fiercely. “I can’t show up at your door in the suit. I won’t put you in danger like that.”
“Are you going to stop playing hero?”
Jesper blinked. “Uh… no?”
“Then are you planning on breaking up with me?”
“What the fuck? No, of course not. Wylan, I love you.”
“I know,” Wylan assured him. He cupped Jesper’s jaw for a brief moment, relaxing when his boyfriend met his gaze. “I love you too. But that’s actually my point – I’m in this for the long run, so at some point you’re going to have to give up this-” He gestured vaguely at the gash across Jesper’s stomach. “-or you’re going to have to trust that I can take care of myself.”
Jesper ducked his head. “I do trust you,” he admitted, a trace sulkily. “I just worry about you. Too many people have gotten hurt because of me. I can’t have you join the list.”
Wylan lowered the antiseptic bottle, seeking Jesper’s gaze. “You know Kaz forgave you a long time ago, right? Inej too.”
“Can we not talk about this?” Jesper reached for Wylan’s hand. His voice grew very small. “Please?”
“Alright.” Wylan set about securing the bandages. “But I do have a suggestion…”
“Oh yeah?” Jesper winked.
“You’ve already bled all over my floorboards, I’m not having you bleeding over my bed too, so you can delete that idea from your brain.”
“Aw, man.” Jesper pouted. “You’re no fun.”
“Thanks. I feel so loved.”
“You’re the light of my life and I appreciate you very much, especially when you patch me up and order me pizza afterwards.”
Wylan reached for his phone, shaking his head in exasperation. “Is that a hint?”
“No,” Jesper dragged the word out, grinning as Wylan called up the online menu. “Not at all. But if you’re offering…”
“You’re a disaster,” Wylan tutted, handing him the phone to make his selection. “Anyway, about my suggestion. Stop using my window. Use the door instead. Every night, actually. You can have a key.”
It took a moment for Jesper to pick through the jumbled sentences and identify the hidden meaning, but then realisation flickered in his eyes. He slowly lowered the phone.
“Wy,” he murmured, disbelief colouring his words in a faintly nervous tone. “Are you… Is this your super confusing way of asking me to move in with you?”
Wylan knitted his fingers together, anxiety coating his palms in sweat. “Uh… y-yes? I mean… that depends on how you feel about it. If that’s something you want, then yes, that’s what I’m asking, but if you don’t, then um…”
“Yes.”
“Huh?”
“Yes.” Jesper’s grin turned into a bright laugh. “Yes, I want to move in with you.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“Oh my god… are you sure?”
“Are you?”
“Yes.
“Same here.”
For a second, they simply stared at each other. Then Jesper laughed again and tried to scramble to his feet – presumably to do something right outta a romcom like dipping Wylan into a kiss – only for them both to recall that he’d nearly been stabbed only half-hour earlier. They settled for ordering pizza, limping into the living-room to wait on the sofa, where Wylan made the most of that twenty-minute delivery time by showing Jesper just how happy he was about the prospect of living together.
“Can we get a cat?” Jesper asked, halfway through mauling a slice of pepperoni.
“Not according to my landlord.”
“…can we unofficially get a cat?”
Wylan chuckled into his pizza. “Unofficially, yes.”
Jesper knocked their pizza slices together in a mock toast. “To the future, roomie.”
“To our future,” Wylan corrected.
Jesper’s smile was soft. “To our future,” he echoed. “I like that.”
REALITY J
Jesper’s shop had a very specific aesthetic. He was going for the punk, hardcore, angsty but in a cool, rocker kinda way type of vibe. The paintwork was smoky grey, almost black, covered in previous designs with his first ever tattoo – the same crow that sat on his best friend’s wrist to this day - recreated in graffiti-form on the front desk. There was even a feature wall painted with flames. The point was – this was a tattoo parlour. It had a certain look. This look did not include flowers.
“No,” he proclaimed as he heard the bell chime, and a flash of green caught his eye. “Wy, I love you, but no.”
Wylan, arms filled with so many flowers that he could barely see over the tops of the blooms, made a face. “Okay,” he retorted, still struggling through the door, “but hear me out – yes.”
“Wylan,” Jesper groaned.
“Jesper,” Wylan mimicked, and proceeded to nearly trip over his own feet.
He peeked over the top of the flowers in a silent plea for help and Jesper rounded the counter, albeit it with another exaggerated sigh as he swooped in just in time to catch the plants before Wylan could drop them. Leaves brushed his chin. His nose tickled and he repressed a sneeze. Wylan watched him with a gleeful look. He crossed his arms and tried not to pout. Wylan clasped his hands together, beaming.
“No,” Jesper repeated, well aware that he had already lost this argument. He elbowed the appointments diary out of the way and set the flowers down on the desk. “No.”
“Okay,” Wylan agreed easily, a hint of mischief to his tone that suggested he was scheming again – Jesper would forever regret the day that he’d introduced his boyfriend to Kaz. “If you really don’t want them, then I can always take them down the road. I’m sure Matthias and Nina won’t complain about free flowers.”
“Hell no, these are mine now. Matthias and Nina can have them over my dead body.”
Wylan patted Jesper’s shoulder. “Oh, well if you insist on keeping them…”
“You’re manipulative.”
“I’m great.”
“You’re a gremlin.”
Wylan shrugged. “I can live with that.” He whirled on his heels, fishing a vase out from under the desk where Jesper hadn’t even realised it had been living, and dumped the miscellaneous pens out from it, sweeping into the break room in search of the sink. “We had an extra shipment come through that I didn’t order, but the supplier refused to take them back because we’d already opened the boxes. Anyway, I don’t have to pay for them, which is the important thing, but I also don’t have anywhere to put them, so-” Wylan stuck his head around the doorframe to grin at Jesper. “-ta da, you get free flowers.”
Jesper cleared a space on the desk for the vase that Wylan had filled and stepped back to admire the flowers. Were they beautiful? Yes. Did they add a splash of colour to the place that wasn’t entirely unwelcome? Also yes. Was he going to admit this to Wylan? Hell no. He had pride… and also a stubborn streak a mile wide that Inej was always telling him was going to be his downfall one of these days.
Wylan slid onto one of the swivel chairs and leafed through the stack of Jesper’s latest designs that he hadn’t gotten around to printing into a book yet. “These are cool.”
“I know.”
Wylan rolled his eyes. “There’s this new thing called modesty, have you ever heard of it?”
“Nope,” Jesper quipped, leaning against the desk. “Why would I be modest about those? They’re awesome. Tell me you don’t secretly want that tiny frog on your arm?”
“I do not want a tiny frog on my arm.”
“Spoilsport.” Jesper flicked a stray leaf. “So, is there a hidden meaning behind these, or…?”
Wylan glanced up from the designs. “I told you they were going spare.”
“As if that would stop you.” Jesper examined the various flowers, racking his brains for the tips and tricks of floriography that he’d picked up over the past three and a half years that he’d been dating Wylan. He traced the edges of a petal. “Isn’t this like… congratulations or something?”
“Yup,” Wylan replied, setting the designs back down to give Jesper his full attention. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Jesper shot back instinctively, then frowned. “But… what for?”
Wylan looked mildly exasperated as he fished his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled to the front page of the local newspaper. “Have you not seen this? You won the award… you know, the super-duper important one that you’ve been talking my ear off about for the past two months?”
“Oh my god,” Jesper realised aloud. “That’s probably what that official looking letter was that arrived this morning.”
Wylan raised a brow. “You got an official looking letter and you didn’t open it immediately?”
“Uh, no. Normally when I receive letters like that it’s an overdue bill.”
“Your finances terrify me.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
“Back off, I’m taking it as one.”
Wylan shook his head with a chuckle. “Alright, I’ve got to get back to work, but, you know,” he waved a hand, “congrats! I’m very proud of you.”
“Ew.”
Wylan narrowed his eyes.
Jesper laughed nervously. “I mean, uh… yay. Thank you.”
“Better.”
“It’s your turn to win an award next.”
“Hmm.” Wylan tilted his head. “I’ll think about it. Entering a contest just sounds stressful… and I probably wouldn’t win anyway…”
“Hey, excuse me, what are you on about?” Jesper tried to glower, which was rather hard to achieve when looking at the human manifestation of sunshine. “That flower shop’s your baby. You’d beat any other crappy store without even trying.”
Wylan ducked his head. “Maybe,” he mumbled.
“Definitely!” The phone burst into life. Jesper pointed to it, pulling an apologetic face. “I’ve got to get this, but I’ll see you at home.”
“Later,” Wylan agreed, swinging the door open. “Love you! I’m very proud! Bye!”
“Love you too,” Jesper mouthed at him, before picking up the phone. “Yes, we are open on a weekend… An original design? Tell me more…”
REALITY K
Wylan wouldn’t consider himself to be a particularly aggressive character, but he was having to rethink this after his second hour of plotting a murder. In his defence, being trapped in a tiny space with a certain Jesper Fahey – who hadn’t stopped chattering ever since it had become exceedingly obvious that they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon – was enough to test anyone’s patience, and Wylan was more used to Jesper’s eccentrics than most people, given they’d been dating for nearly four years.
It was funny really – their relationship had begun in an elevator (because there was nothing like spending six hours in an enclosed space with the colleague you’d been crushing on for six months to get you to confess your feelings) and now, just a few days before their anniversary, here they were trapped in one once again. It seemed almost appropriate. Fitting. Destined to be.
Jesper prodded Wylan’s knee. Wylan lifted his gaze from the floor with a heavy sigh. Jesper practically bounced up and down.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
Wylan gestured to the broken elevator around them. “It’s just funny. At this rate we’re going to end up spending our anniversary in this same elevator.”
“At this rate we’re going to end up getting married in this same elevator.”
Wylan nearly choked on clean air. It took a minute to find his voice. Jesper simply sat there, on the opposite side of the elevator, legs outstretched to rest his feet in Wylan’s lap as he slowly crippled his spine with his terrible posture – slumped against the wall – waiting for Wylan to consider this particular comment.
“Is that a proposal?” Wylan finally managed to ask. He was sweating under his collar and he wasn’t sure if it was a result of the broken aircon whilst they were both still wearing work suits, or thanks to Jesper’s marvellous plan to spring big questions on him when he was trapped and so couldn’t run away to overthink the answer for several days.
Jesper tipped his head back against the wall with a thud. “Trust me,” he laughed. “You’ll know when I’m proposing. There won’t be any way to mistake it.”
“I’m scared,” Wylan informed him.
Jesper winked. “You should be. There’s going to be fireworks and everything.”
“You know I don’t like big scenes.”
“Go big or go home, baby.”
“Jes…” Wylan patted Jesper’s ankles, shaking his head but unable to deny the fond smile that was dawning on his face. “Just… why. Why are you like this?”
Jesper flapped a hand. “Because it’s fun. Anyway, why are you dating me?”
“No clue. It’s been four years and I still haven’t figured it out. You probably put a spell on me or something.”
Jesper snorted. “Hell no, that’s more Nina’s style. I just dazzled you with my good looks and charm.”
“I mean… you’re not wrong.”
The intercom crackled. They both glanced up at it, waiting, hesitating, only for it to fall silent again. Clearly they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. This elevator was both a curse and a blessing in that regard, because between Wylan putting in overtime hours and Jesper rushing between the office and theatre rehearsals they hadn’t been able to spend much time together lately. Wylan had probably seen more of his boss than his boyfriend in the past week – and while Kaz was a great guy, he was decidedly not the person Wylan wanted to be seeing at godawful hours of the night.
“We should take a trip,” Jesper announced.
Wylan jolted out of his thoughts. “Huh?”
“You know, a holiday?” Jesper slid further down the wall. “An adventure. We could go somewhere sunny, with a great beach, waves, a poolside bar where they sell cocktails with those little umbrellas… We have to drink out of a coconut at some point too, that’s just essential.”
Wylan closed his eyes. In the late spring heat, he could almost imagine that he was sitting in the tropics.
“Alright,” he agreed, tracing patterns across Jesper’s ankles. “Let’s do it.”
“Yeah?”
Jesper’s hopeful expression tugged at Wylan’s heartstrings.
“Yeah.” Wylan took a sip of the now cold coffee takeaway cup sat between them. “We could look at some package deals tonight. Unless you wanted to go out?”
“Haven’t you got the early shift tomorrow?”
Wylan shrugged. “I’ll call in sick.”
Jesper’s eyes gleamed. “Playing hooky? Naughty, naughty. I’m shocked at this behaviour from you, Mister Van Eck.” He offered a cheeky smile. “I must be a terrible influence.”
“Our relationship is more important than putting in a few hours just to get on Kaz’s good side,” Wylan explained simply, feeling that warm fondness in his chest as he watched Jesper’s expression soften with a hint of surprise. “I want to spend time with you.”
“Technically we’re spending time together right now.”
“Oh, hush.” Wylan swatted Jesper’s knee and ignored his boyfriend’s laughter. “You know what I meant.”
A surprisingly peaceful silence settled across the elevator. Jesper moved to sit next to Wylan, resting his head on Wylan’s shoulder with a yawn.
“We could get takeout,” Wylan suggested.
“Netflix and chill,” Jesper sniggered.
“I mean, I was thinking about researching that holiday, but sure, I’m not opposed to that…”
They paused while the operator gave them an update on the status of the elevator repairs.
“Did you mean it?” Wylan asked after a while.
Jesper yawned again. “What did I say?”
“About getting married. Is that… like… a genuine possibility in the future?”
Jesper found Wylan’s hand and entwined their fingers.
“Absolutely,” he murmured.
REALITY L
Jesper considered the pros and cons of making another teasing comment but then again Kaz was currently holding a very sharp pin as he attached a rose to his lapel and Jesper was well aware that Kaz was more than capable of murdering him with nothing more than that tiny object. Where Kaz was concerned, underestimating him was as good as signing your own death warrant. Jesper was pushing the limit as it was – the only reason he was still standing here, alive and well, was because Kaz was unwilling to get blood on his own wedding suit. Well, there was also the part where Jesper was Kaz’s best man and it would be more-or-less impossible to replace him within the hour to go before the ceremony.
“Would you stop that?” Kaz growled without looking away from the mirror, brow creased with frustration as he attempted to secure the rose.
“Stop what?” Jesper queried, flopping backwards onto the bed so that the mattress creaked. He examined the paintwork on the ceiling without truly seeing it. Everything about today seemed strange, not quite real, as though his brain couldn’t compute that after all these years his best friends were finally getting married. It seemed like only yesterday that they’d all shared that apartment with the leaky pipes and crows nesting in the vents.
Kaz twisted to glare at him over his shoulder. “Stop that. That, right there. The tapping. It’s irritating. Either stop it or lose your hands.”
Jesper gave an exaggerated gasp. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Kaz just looked at him.
Jesper lifted his hands into the air and held them there. “No more tapping, got it.”
Life was strange, he mused as he remained sprawled across the bed, waiting for Kaz to stop fussing over a flower that was already perfectly placed. He’d grown up with Kaz and Inej and it had been clear for anyone to see that the two were destined to be together. There’d been so many hurdles, misunderstandings, arguments that had thrown Jesper into the middle of the couple, trying to play the role of Switzerland but inevitably taking sides in the end anyway, but despite it all, here they were, with Kaz in a wedding suit and Inej on the other side of the wall looking like a walking bombshell – and Jesper would know because he’d been there when she’d originally tried on her dress. To fight to be together, no matter what the world threw at them… it was admirable. Jesper’s thoughts couldn’t help but drift to that tiny velvet box hidden at the very back of his sock drawer, just waiting for him to pluck up the courage to ask the question.
Kaz drummed his fingers against the head of his cane.
Jesper hauled himself upright. “Not getting cold feet are you?” he teased.
“I’d tell you not to be an idiot, but that would be like asking a crow not to be a crow.”
Jesper clasped a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
Kaz rolled his eyes. He turned back to the mirror, exhaling slowly. Jesper watched Kaz’s shoulders sag and slid off the bed, padding across the carpet in mismatched socks to stand at his friend’s side, careful to keep that fine line of space between them.
“This is really it,” Jesper murmured. He caught Kaz’s gaze in the mirror and repressed a laugh, shaking his head. “Who would’ve thought it? Kaz Brekker, a married man.”
“Not quite yet,” Kaz pointed out. “Inej could still leave me standing at the altar.”
“Inej would never.”
“No,” Kaz agreed. “She wouldn’t.”
Jesper snorted. “Aw. Look at that lovesick smile. You’ve got it bad, boy.”
“Never call me boy ever again.”
“But your face is so priceless whenever I do.”
Kaz feigned nonchalance. “Do you want to live to finally use that engagement ring in your sock drawer, or…?”
Jesper double-took. “Wait, how do you even know about it?”
Kaz’s smile was sharp-edged. “I know everything.”
“Inej told you, didn’t she?”
“Maybe.” Kaz held up his thumb and forefinger and pressed them close together. “Just a little bit.”
Jesper let silence settle across the room – and wasn’t that a testament to how much he cared for Kaz, because it was a well-known fact that he hated silence above almost everything – letting Kaz take a moment to order his thoughts.
“Are you ready?”
Kaz tipped his cane towards the door. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Jes.” He glanced back and Jesper caught his teasing smile. “Do me a favour?”
“You asking me for a favour?”
“Jesper.”
Jesper spread his hands. “Ask away.”
Kaz reached for the door handle. “I know you’re planning a speech. Don’t embarrass yourself too badly, will you?”
Jesper made to swat him. “Alright, that’s it, I’m done with you. Let’s get you down that aisle already so you can be Inej’s problem.”
Surprisingly, Kaz’s only retaliation was a loud laugh.
The ceremony most certainly, definitely, one hundred percent, did not nearly bring Jesper to tears. Inej looked beautiful, which was to be expected, and Kaz’s gaze softened beyond anything Jesper thought possible when he glimpsed his bride.
“Are you crying?” Wylan whispered at his side, reaching for Jesper’s hand as Jesper tried not to sniff too loudly.
“No,” Jesper denied aloud. “Lies and slander. I’m not even capable of crying. A witch removed my tear ducts as a baby.”
Wylan muffled his chuckles in his sleeve. “Alright,” he replied quietly. “Whatever you say. But just for the record, if you were crying, that would be sweet.”
“I’m not sweet. I’m the night. Fear me.”
“Okay, Jes.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I literally saw you cry over a frog the other day because it was, and I quote, too dang small.”
“It was tiny, Wylan!”
Wylan’s eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight around the hall. He ducked his head to hide his laughter, freckles creasing with amusement, shoulders quaking slightly with genuine giggles. In the sharp lines of his suit, traces of shimmer across his cheekbones – thank you, Nina – he was simply breathtaking. And Jesper wanted this – wanted Wylan at his side – forever. He wanted Wylan trying not to laugh because Jesper made jokes at inappropriate times, he wanted to hold Wylan’s hand, he wanted to wake up with him every morning and plan their life together. He wanted Wylan. So really, he wondered, what was he waiting for?
“You’re staring at me,” Wylan whispered, keeping his gaze on Kaz and Inej.
Jesper didn’t reply. His mind was on that velvet box, turning the words over in his head, decision made, because it didn’t matter what happened now, he was certain about this – he was going to ask Wylan Van Eck to marry him.
Just not right now, because Kaz would murder him.
REALITY M
In the five years since the world had ended, Wylan had learnt several key facts that had contributed to his continued survival. These facts had included the development of some major trust issues because someone acting sketchy normally meant that they were hiding something, such as an infected bite wound. This had to be identified quickly before that person could turn and infect the rest of the group, because the only known case of anyone surviving a bite so far was Kaz Brekker, who now walked with a permanent limp to show for his win against the infection that had killed over ninety percent of the global population. Unfortunately, stopping the infection from racing through their survival camp like a raging inferno normally meant putting a bullet in the skull of whoever was acting suspicious.
There was one slight problem with this tactic – the person who was acting very sketchy in Wylan’s view happened to be his long-term boyfriend. Funnily enough, Wylan was against shooting Jesper, although he suspected he wouldn’t be the only one – Kaz could claim not to care about anyone except Inej to his heart’s content, but it didn’t take a genius to recognise that he had a soft spot for all of his so-called ‘Crows’ – an odd name for a survival group but one that had stuck all the same – Jesper in particular.
The thing was, while Jesper was admittedly acting more suspiciously than a guy wearing a balaclava into a bank, Wylan couldn’t believe that his boyfriend would hide a bite from them. It wasn’t that he was fundamentally selfless or anything, but he did care about them too much to put them at risk like that. Also, Jesper may have lied about many things over the years, but he was truthful when he claimed to be in love with Wylan, and given they were still sharing a bed at night – and therefore putting Wylan in serious danger if there was a concealed bite anywhere on Jesper’s person – it seemed fairly unlikely that Jesper was infected.
Wylan mentioned this to Inej over breakfast – or technically brunch, because it wasn’t Wylan’s day to run a patrol which meant he could sleep in for as long as he wanted and there was no way he was getting out of bed with the sun if he didn’t have to – and sat back to gauge her reaction. Her shoulders rose a little, but with laughter, not tension, and he sank into his chair with a groan.
“Why are you laughing at me?”
“I don’t mean to,” Inej informed him, serving up a bowl of something grey and gloopy and hopelessly unappetising. She set it down on the battered table in front of him, the surface pot-marked by knife marks from Nina’s target practise. “Really, Wylan, I’m sorry. But… look,” she tucked stray hair behind her ears and offered him a genuine smile, “you’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you that all will be revealed soon.”
Wylan lowered his bowl – and tried not to be too disconcerted by the way his spoon stuck upright in the gruel as though it were encased in concrete rather than rations. “So, he is hiding something?”
“Yes,” Inej admitted. “But you’re going to love it.”
“But I want to know now,” Wylan protested, wincing as he heard the faintly whining tone in his voice, as though he were a bratty little kid demanding extra ice cream after dinner all over again. He coughed. “How long until he tells me?”
Inej gave a wry smile. “All in good time,” she promised, tousling Wylan’s hair on her way past. “You need a trim,” she noted over her shoulder as she rounded the corner.
Wylan ran a hand through his hair. Inej was right – on both counts, apparently. He scraped his spoon around the bowl and repressed another sigh. He hated waiting – patience was not his strong suit.
Later, after the scouting group had returned and their meagre dinner rations had been consumed, after Nina’s singing had faded to be replaced by the distant rustling of infected in the scrubland beyond the walls of their camp, when the fire had died to simple embers and Wylan was curled up waiting for Jesper to crawl under the threadbare blankets and join him, he observed his boyfriend and wondered what this great secret could be that everyone other than him seemed to be in on.
“You’re hiding something,” he accused aloud.
Jesper froze, balancing on one leg like a flamingo as he was halfway through taking his trousers off. In the candlelight, his expression was hard to read. He wriggled into the oversized shirt he’d taken to wearing as the winter had begun to set in, and gingerly turned to face Wylan.
“What makes you think that?”
Wylan propped himself up on an elbow. “You’re not denying it.”
“I…” Jesper faltered. “Okay, I am hiding something, but it’s a good something. It’s going to be a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.” Jesper slid under the covers and wrapped an arm around Wylan’s waist, tugging him close. “Trust me,” he whispered against Wylan’s pulse. “I know how to make you happy.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Uh huh… Let me show you?””
“The surprise? Right now?”
“What?” Jesper blinked. “Wy, no, I was talking about…” He waggled his eyebrows. “Y’know?”
“Are you going to tell me your big secret?”
“Not yet.”
“Then no.” Wylan rolled over to put his back to Jesper.
“What?” Jesper sounded faintly hurt. “Wylan, c’mon, are you serious?” He put a hand on Wylan’s shoulder.
Wylan smacked him away. “I don’t like secrets.”
“Okay, okay…” Jesper exhaled through gritted teeth. Wylan could feel the tension in his boyfriend’s grip on his shoulder. “Fine. I’ll tell you. Just know that I had plans and they were gonna be super romantic and impressive and you would totally have loved them but now I’m doing this here, so…”
Wylan felt the mattress dip as Jesper rolled out of bed again. There was the soft pitter-patter of bare feet against the stone floor, followed by a faint squeak and rustling of clothes as Jesper opened a drawer and scoured through the contents. Candlelight flickered. Wylan finally gave into his curiosity and sat up to watch.
“What are you looking for?”
“Just… wait.”
Wylan tugged the blanket around his shoulders, rubbing the sleepy haze away from his vision with his knuckles. A yawn itched at the back of his throat. He propped his chin in a palm, resting his elbows on his knees, and admired the golden glow of the candles across Jesper’s skin, shirt rising up as he bent over the drawer.
“I’m sorry.”
Jesper froze. “Huh?”
“I’m sorry,” Wylan repeated. “I shouldn’t have pushed to know. I trust you and if you say this isn’t how you want to do this big reveal, then I can wait.”
Jesper glanced over his shoulder. “Really?”
“Really.” Wylan offered a sheepish smile. “Come back to bed, Jes.” He widened his eyes. “Please?”
Jesper leant against the dresser, a considering light dawning in his eyes. He tilted his head, studying Wylan as if searching for something.
“Actually,” he whispered. “This is… This is probably better than what I had planned. Just you and me… It’s simple. You like keeping things simple.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Wylan admitted. He wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his chin on top, the frayed edge of the blanket tickling his shins. “Jes, just come to bed.”
“Wait a minute…”
Jesper blocked Wylan’s view of the dresser. There was something in his fist, slid into his pocket too quickly for Wylan to identify it. His heartrate picked up instinctively.
“Okay,” Jesper said, moving to stand by the bed. There was something deeply uncertain on his face, almost scared, which seemed ridiculous because Wylan had rarely seen Jesper afraid, not even when cornered by infected. “I… this isn’t… so, like, looters kind of trashed everything so I couldn’t find anything in the old stores even though I’ve been looking on basically every supply run for the past year, so I had to make it instead and I’m not exactly a jeweller, so it’s a bit crap, but um… Inej said it was the meaning behind it that’s important, not how it looks, so… Okay. I’m gonna… I’m gonna do this now. You can say no, by the way, you don’t have to say yes… okay. I’m… uh… right.”
Wylan promptly lost the ability to breathe because Jesper was down on one fricking knee by the bedside, eyes bright with unshed tears but his smile more radiant than the flames dancing on the candles.
“Wylan Van Eck,” Jesper whispered, because the moment seemed fragile as though the slightest loud noise could shatter it, and there was something silver gleaming in his outstretched hand and Wylan was probably – definitely – crying. “I know it’s literally the end of the world and we probably don’t have long left, but I want to spend what time we do have with you. You’re my person. You were my person before everything went to shit, and you still are. I… completely forgot the rest of this speech, sorry…” He took a deep breath. “Wylan, will you marry me?”
Wylan dabbed tears away with the edge of his sleeve.
“Y-yes,” he choked out, struck by the urge to laugh or perhaps cry or maybe even dance all at once, letting Jesper slide the ring onto his finger. “Oh my god, Jesper, yes!”
Jesper tackled him onto the bed, laughing. “I was so scared you were going to say no.”
“Jes, we’ve been dating for like seven years… I lost track of the date to be honest, but the point is… I love you.”
“I love you too.” Jesper beamed at him. “Just in case that wasn’t clear.”
Wylan pulled him into a kiss.
REALITY N
Jesper could already hear Wylan’s chastising words in his head as he limped his way towards the med-bay. His ankle burnt something fierce, as though he’d dunked his lower leg in the acidic sands of Planet Kb-18, rather than simply twisted the offending limb during the impact he’d taken when attempting to pull off a fine tune manoeuvre while venting atmosphere. It hadn’t been his smartest plan to date – although it had paid off because the passenger ship he’d been helping had made it into deep space safely and therefore his mission goal had been a success – but he wasn’t known as one of the best pilots of his generation for no reason.
Not that his fiancé was going to see the bright side of this situation. Jesper already knew that Wylan would zero in on his injured ankle and ignore anything else that could be said in his defence. It wasn’t as if he could keep it a secret either, because Wylan was literally the ship medic, so unless Jesper felt like doing permanent damage to his ankle – which would probably result in him being grounded which was practically worse than death – he had no choice but to face Wylan’s rant.
The med-bay stunk of antiseptic with an unidentifiable mixture of chemical tangs. Jesper licked his lips and tasted salt. He’d long since given up questioning Wylan’s experiments, ever since they’d first been paired together at the academy and then been transferred onto the same research ship. He trailed a hand along a table, flicking a stray test tube and jumped back as the substance inside hissed at him.
“Is that alive?” he queried, jerking a thumb at the violently purple liquid within the test tube.
Across the room, lab goggles pushed into his hair and a hologram projection of his latest patient’s – Matthias, following a mishap on the last mission relating to political alliances that left Jesper snoring within half a second – healing injuries hovering above the desk, Wylan looked up, face brightening at the sight of his fiancé.
“Not exactly alive,” he replied, pushing his chair back from the desk to stand. “But not exactly inanimate either. It’s not sentient…” He frowned, prodding the test tube with a glass rod and earning another hiss in response. “Well, I don’t think it’s sentient. But its regenerative abilities are out of this world…”
“Wylan,” Jesper breathed, delighted. “Was that a pun?”
Wylan groaned, waving the glass rod at him. “Unintended, Jes, unintended.”
“Nope,” Jesper proclaimed gleefully, hopping up to perch on the edge of the table. “You made a pun, and it was glorious.”
“I hate you,” Wylan muttered.
“Uh huh. You hate me. Sure. That’s why you’ve agreed to marry me.”
Wylan’s gaze landed on Jesper’s ankle. His eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“What makes you think I did anything?” Jesper tossed his hands in the air. “Honestly, everyone around here is always accusing me.”
“Yes,” Wylan called over his shoulder as he rifled through his desk drawers for his med-scanner. “That’s because most things that go wrong on this ship are your fault.”
“Ouch.”
Wylan retrieved the med-scanner. “Last time you went on the bridge, you somehow managed to set fire to Inej’s comms.”
“That was one time.”
“Jesper, I love you, but you’re a walking disaster.” Wylan shook his head as the med-scanner glared red to signal a detected injury. “And… my point is proven.”
Jesper crossed his fingers behind his bag, chanting under his breath so that Wylan couldn’t overhear him, “please don’t sign me off, please don’t sign me off, please don’t…”
“I’m signing you off,” Wylan announced. “No flying for you for a week, minimum.”
“Technically,” Jesper began slowly, sensing he was treading on very thin ice by the unimpressed stare Wylan treated him to. “Technically, I’m always flying. We live on a spaceship.”
“Two weeks.”
“What? No! You can’t do that!”
“Three weeks,” Wylan continued, tapping his console with the wicked smile of someone who knew they held all the cards.
Jesper crossed his arms sulkily. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do, which is why I’m trying to look out for your health.” Wylan slid off his chair and wound his arms around Jesper’s neck, rising onto his toes to plant a kiss on Jesper’s forehead. “You know I’m doing this for your own good, right? You’re not really mad?”
“No, I’m not really mad.” Jesper tipped forwards to press their foreheads together. “But I will be expecting you to bring me breakfast in bed.”
Wylan arched a brow. “Oh, really?”
“Uh huh.” Jesper grinned. “I’m signed off sick, remember? Sick people get breakfasts in bed.”
“Sick people get quarantined, actually.” Wylan relented with a fond sigh. “So it’s a good job you’re just injured, not sick. Honestly, Jes, you’re going to give me heart failure one of these days. Be more careful.”
“Have you met me?”
“Unfortunately, yes, which is why I know I’m wasting my breath asking you to look after yourself.” Wylan ran a thumb across Jesper’s cheek, his smile warm with affection. “At least try to stay alive until our wedding – Nina’s been looking forward to it for months and I’d hate to see her in a bad mood.”
“The ship wouldn’t survive Nina in a bad mood.”
“Exactly,” Wylan agreed with an exaggerated shudder. He kissed Jesper’s cheek and stepped back, examining his ankle with another sigh. “Alright, I’m going to get you some painkillers and a brace for extra support, because I already know you’re going to ignore my advice to rest up.”
Jesper beamed at him. “You know me so well.”
Wylan brushed stray curls back from his face without replying. The engagement ring on his finger glinted under the blueish glow of the med-bay lights. Jesper observed him, revelling in the familiar warmth in his heart at the sight of his fiancé.
A certain test-tube snapped at his elbow.
“Wylan! Your experiment is alive!”
Wylan snorted. “You don’t say.”
“Wylan! Save me! It’s going to eat me!”
“What did I say? Walking disaster.”
REALITY O
Soulmates were strange, Wylan mused as he went to slide his arm into his shirt only to glimpse ink looping across his skin in familiar handwriting. It seemed insane that there could be a person whose soul was made to match his, to complete his very being, to love him and be loved in return more fiercely than the fabrics of reality itself could begin to comprehend.
Or maybe Wylan was just overly emotional given he was about to marry his best friend, soulmate, and partner all in one. It was probably that, if he were honest, because he wasn’t usually this philosophical, and yet right now he was examining his reflection in the window and wondering whether there was another version of himself in another universe who was also lucky enough to find his Jesper.
He watched the fine rain drifting across the cityscape. Lights blinked into life in an attempt to fend off the gloom. Yet, even with the murky clouds and the faint din of traffic and people crammed into the streets below, Wylan couldn’t help but feel a wave of fondness as he looked out over the city that he had made his home after walking out on his eighteenth birthday to never return. He ran a thumb over his engagement ring and closed his eyes to recall peach-softened skies and the murmur of waves and tree frogs as Jesper had gotten down on one knee.
His forearm tickled slightly as Jesper wrote something new in addition to his earlier words. Wylan rolled up his sleeve to check.
You still love me, right?
Jes, I’m about to marry you.
So, is that a yes?
Obviously.
Good. Just wanted to check, just in case.
“Hey.”
Matthias’ voice startled Wylan out of his thoughts. He rolled down his sleeve hurriedly, as if he’d been caught breaking the law. Matthias, leant against the doorway, simply raised a brow, looking as unfazed as ever.
“Kaz is here,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the corridor where Kaz was presumably lurking.
Wylan blinked. “I thought he was with Jesper?”
“I was,” Kaz agreed, sweeping into the room as though he owned the place. Knowing Kaz, anything was possible. “Past tense being the notable point there. Now I’m with you.” The faint tension in his voice dropped, replaced by the genuine warmth he mostly refused to admit existed. He plucked the tie that Wylan had been wrestling with off the back of the chair and smoothed out the creases, tilting his head in question. “Do you need a hand with this?”
Wylan tugged at his blazer sleeves self-consciously. “Please,” he admitted in a very small voice, relaxing slightly as he looked up in time to catch Kaz’s fond expression. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” Kaz replied gruffly, movements open and smooth so as not to startle Wylan – because Kaz, alongside Jesper and Inej, was the only person to know the full details of Wylan’s past – as he gently looped the tie around Wylan’s neck. “All these years, and you still can’t do this,” he noted, faintly amused.
Wylan flushed. “Shut up.”
“Shut up?” Kaz’s lips twitched in a hidden smile. “My, my, you have gained some confidence since you first arrived in the city, haven’t you?” His hands were careful, easing the fabric into a pristine knot. He tugged at the tie slightly, smoothing it out, and stepped back with a satisfied nod. “There. Much better.”
Wylan exhaled slowly. “Thanks, Kaz,” he murmured. “Really…” He bit his lip, hoping Kaz could read the hidden message behind his words. “Thank you.”
Kaz nodded.
Matthias tapped his watch. “We need to get a move on.”
“R-right.” Wylan’s pulse was racing. He slid his hands into his pockets and then out again, trying to breathe evenly.
“Wylan.”
Kaz’s voice cut through Wylan’s spiral. He looked up to meet Kaz’s warm gaze.
“I’m proud of you,” Kaz said simply.
Wylan blinked back tears. “Thank you.”
Kaz tutted. “None of that. Come on now, no friend of mine is going to be late to their own wedding. Apart from Jesper, but he’s a lost cause. I gave up hope when it comes to him years ago.”
Wylan closed the door behind them. “This is it.”
“This is it,” Matthias agreed. “Excited?”
Wylan sorted through his emotions. “Actually, yes.”
Matthias patted him on the back. “There you go then. There’s nothing to worry about. You love Jesper and he loves you – this is just a formality, really.”
Wylan inhaled sharply and forced himself to stand up straight. “You’re right.” He grinned. “I’m getting married. This is so…”
“Strange?” Matthias suggested.
“Awesome,” Wylan finished.
Kaz heaved a great sigh. “Awesome,” he repeated, with a hint of disgust. “You and Jesper really are destined for each other.”
Wylan’s gaze fell to his engagement ring. “Yeah,” he agreed, unable to stop smiling. “We really are.”
BACK TO REALITY A
“Our promise is….” Jesper trailed off, equally as amused as he was baffled. He kissed Wylan’s temple, shaking his head slightly. “I mean, yes, I love you, and I’m sure I love you in every universe or whatever it is you’re going on about, but honestly, Wy?”
Wylan struggled to focus on a single train of thought and ended up just blinking owlishly at his boyfriend as he attempted to remember how to speak. “What?” he finally managed to ask.
Jesper tugged him close. “I think,” he whispered teasingly into Wylan’s ear, “that you are very, very drunk and should probably get some sleep before you hate yourself in the morning.”
Wylan yawned. “Probably a good idea,” he admitted.
“I do have those occasionally,” Jesper remarked.
Wylan patted his boyfriend’s chest. “Uh huh. Very, very occasionally though.”
“Thanks,” Jesper deadpanned, and proceeded to sweep Wylan into his arms, ignoring all protests and squeaks. “Right, to bed with you, sunshine.”
“Love you,” Wylan murmured, already halfway to drifting off in Jesper’s arms. In his defence, Jesper was warm and safe and he smelt nice, so no one could really blame Wylan… The last thing he was aware of was Jesper kissing his forehead and tucking a blanket around his shoulders.
“I know,” Jesper whispered. “I love you too.” There was a faint laugh as he added, “I love you in every universe.”