Work Text:
Jesper hadn’t really known what he was searching for when he decided to get out of the house and stroll mindlessly, mindlessly. It’s just that, sometimes, he gets so lost in his own head that all he needs to do is leave those thoughts behind him, to put a distance from whatever it is that’s haunting him.
Sometimes, he feels too much like an abandoned mansion, left to be eaten up by ghosts and rats until it rots. But he’s always keen to turn his eyes somewhere else, to find relief from that suffocating ache in his own chest, so that’s what he does now.
That’s why he ended up here in the first place. He’s gotten lost in an alley full of glimmering lights and blinding sounds, so very alive and vibrant in the way people come and go from every little shop around the corner. Jesper has always loved the holidays, and this year is no exception — but it’s plenty lonely for him too.
It’s not like he can’t spend them with his Da — he does that usually, just not on Christmas day, because there’s some sort of old sadness and melancholy that sticks to him when celebrating the day his Ma used to love so much, in the house that used to be his Ma’s. It reminds him, achingly, of the loneliness he brings with him everywhere, a kind of loneliness that has followed him for a long, long time.
So he visits home, comes around, has fun, even, with his Da worrying less about work and more about warming the house and playing chess with Jesper on cozy evenings. But not on the 25th, not usually. Jesper feels the tiniest bit guilty about leaving his father to spend it on his own, probably heating up leftovers, but also…he’s a fucking adult, man.
So, what he does is — well, stay home and binge watch Christmas comedies, maybe go on a stroll alone when it’s not too cold to do so. Hell, he’s even spent the day with Inej and Kaz, all huddled up under Inej’s big tree, exchanging presents and drinking wine. Not that Kaz had been that delighted to gift anything that wasn’t plain banknotes, but that had still been nice.
This year, Jesper doesn’t think he’ll spend Christmas day with Kaz and Inej: they’ve finally realized, to no one’s surprise, that they’re stupidly in love and are acting all disgustingly lovey-dovey, exchanging languid glances and even holding hands beneath tables when they think no one can see them. It wouldn’t be fun to third-wheel that hard, Jesper reasons.
He is, once again, lost in his own thoughts and doesn’t even know where his legs are taking him, until an old lady tells him to Watch out, kid. You were almost stepping on my shoes, and they’re nice shoes! and Jesper whispers a mortified, Sorry, ma’am.
He stills. He looks around. There are more shops decorated with Christmas lights and colors than one could possibly count, but right next to where Jesper is standing, there's a shop he remembers from years ago. Good, he thinks, exactly what I needed.
When he does go in, a bell rings unexpectedly to announce his entrance. There’s a big hall filled with everything, from tree decorations to wrapping papers, and just to the left an even wider space, where Jesper’s eyes just get lost in an endless number of aisles. Saints, it’s certainly bigger than he remembered. It’s overwhelming, but to Jesper, it’s simply thrilling. There’s some Christmas song that he can’t recognize blasting in the background, and he starts moving his feet a bit, because Jesper Fahey simply can’t resist a cool beat.
Jesper hears some rustling noise from somewhere next to him, and then a voice, speaking kindly and quietly: “Hi. Did you need help?”
Jesper doesn’t recognise where it comes from at first, eyes looking around in confusion, but when he does — oh, hell.
Jesper, now that he can see the man in front of him – he’s quite impressed. He’s got the biggest, brightest blue eyes, and freckles dotting up his nose and cheeks like fucking constellations . He looks almost princely, with the way he carries himself and how his hair curls over his eyes.
“Do you come here often?” Jesper blurts out, unthinking, stupidly, because that seems to be his brand. He winks, too, which makes it all worse.
“I literally work here,” the man says flatly, eyebrow raising judgmentally.
“Ah. Right.”
“Did you want help or...?” he says slowly, still looking far too snarky for someone who’s covered in soft cardigans as he is.
“Uh...yes, I – I was looking for some tree ornaments. Something for my Da.”
The man casts him a last, silently judgmental look, before taking him to the right aisle in a silent demand for Jesper to follow him. Jesper doesn’t dare say anything else, too petrified in the embarrassment that comes after being floored by a pretty face.
The curly-haired man suddenly stops in front of him, and Jesper has to stop his feet from stumbling all over him. He wants to avoid any further embarrassment, at least for today.
“Here,” he points. “This is the ornaments section. You can find stars, balls, angels, even some weird ass looking fruit. Anything you like.” He smiles the tiniest bit, and Jesper is suddenly glad that he’s not acting like a dick just because he said something stupid. Well, he was being snarky and judgmental, but still. It doesn’t seem to stop the man from grinning sweetly — and he’s awfully cute when he smiles, too. Jesper returns the grin, bright and easy.
Soon enough, Jesper finds what he needs and leaves the shop, maybe a bit reluctantly. When he goes to pay, he doesn’t see the same blue eyed man, and finds himself a bit disappointed. He directs his feet home and thinks, maybe a bit pathetically, that he didn’t ask him his name. Hell, he’s even more pathetic than Kaz with Inej, and this thought scares the shit out of him. He doesn’t even know his name.
The second time Jesper ends up in that big, shitty Christmas shop, he didn’t really mean to.
Truly. He was freshly out of an argument with his Da, one of those that started with some petty, small remark and ended up with Jesper feeling more rage and resentment than necessary. He’d always end up feeling guilty, feeling trapped, because what else does his father deserve than his son’s love and gratefulness?
Certainly, certainly not his blind anger. But there’s still a part of Jesper, some wounded, fearful creature inside of him that’s shrieking and shouting to be heard, and pushing it down with guilt doesn't help at all.
That’s what led him to this corner of town; always brighter with colorful lights this time of the year, kids running after each other and singing Christmas carols with all the air in their lungs. Jesper doesn’t really know what he’s looking for, but he opens that godforsaken door anyways. The bell rings, and Jesper finds himself annoyed thinking that anywhere he goes, his presence can’t go unnoticed, in the good and in the bad.
There are still Christmas hits blasting out from some hidden speakers — not ones Jesper would pick if he could, but not too bad either. This place, as he remembers, is big enough to get lost in. And maybe Jesper can lie to himself well enough into thinking he does need something else, some other Christmas decorations or gift for Inej or wrapping papers for Kaz (even if he sure as hell wouldn’t appreciate it, might go as far as complain ), because buying new things always gets him in a good mood, doesn’t it?
Jesper’s not always smart when he gets lost in his head, mess of thoughts spiraling round and round, so what happens next is — well, he stumbles upon someone.
Something rattles to the ground, and Jesper rushes to help them get it before it breaks and he has to pay for it. “Shit, sorry.” What’s fallen into the ground is, blessedly, not made of glass and Jesper is inordinately pleased with himself for not having to pay for his trouble. Jesper glances upwards. What he sees is… well, not much at all. The voice that comes is slightly muffled, and Jesper can’t quite tell who it is instantly. Then, he gets it. Right in front of him, there’s a pile of boxes, or, there’s someone, hidden by a bunch of boxes they’re carrying around that are currently making them disappear. The only thing that sticks out is a mass of soft looking red-gold curls.
“Um… do you need help with that stuff?”
Then Jesper hears a lot of rustling, shuffling, and all but sees the person, the man, cast those boxes aside, putting them on the floor next to him.
“You must be glad that it wasn’t the most delicate stuff, or you’d be in real trouble right now.” The same snarky voice speaks and Jesper feels piercing, glimmering blue eyes staring at him intently. The man frowns, looking the tiniest bit petulant. “Why are you always running into me?”
“I didn’t… didn’t mean to. I didn’t run into you. ” Jesper clears his throat. “I forgot something, last time. Wanted to buy some more decorations, is all.”
“I’ll help you figure out what you need if you help me carry these boxes,” he says.
Jesper snorts, then says “Are you this bossy with all your customers?”
“Only the particularly annoying ones,” he throws over his shoulder, already starting to pick the boxes back up. “Besides, it’s only me and another colleague today. We’re usually three, minimum. I could use some help.”
“Okay,” Jesper grins, delighted. “The deal is the deal.”
So, that’s what he does: help carry these boxes into a storage room, following this beautiful, nameless man into a small, dark, stuffed place.
“Saints!” He whistles. “How do you fit all that stuff in this tiny place here?”
The man shrugs and looks down to his hands, looking almost embarrassed. About what, Jesper has no clue.
“Is the pay here any good?” Jesper laughs, trying to lighten up the tension he feels all around him, but instantly regrets it.
The man looks confused at first, genuinely looking like he has no fucking clue — then he seems to get it and he chuckles. A real laugh, warm and incredulous, that makes something like relief settle in Jesper’s bones.
“I wouldn’t know. Didn’t really have to work for myself before. This is the first fitting option I found after my father—” He presses his lips into a thin line, like he’s forcing himself not to say anything else. He looks stubborn, but that’s something Jesper had already noticed, and startlingly, strangely lonely. Jesper can relate. “Well, I need some money, and this job helps. This is all I have, even if it’s not the job of my dream.”
Jesper nods, like he understands. Because he truly, truly does. Then he asks, quietly, again, because he’s almost afraid to shatter something between them, “What would that be, then? Your dream job, I mean.”
The man looks up, eyes surprised and startled, looking like he hadn’t expected Jesper to ask something like that at all. “I love painting. Took it from my mother, I guess. But my father has always told me that it’s hard to make money in the art industry, unless you get really, really famous. And he’s wrong about plenty, but he might be right about this one—”
“Bullshit,” Jesper calls.
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, I know it’s hard out there. Even I am doing a job I don’t particularly enjoy, but it doesn’t always have to be this way. You’ll get to your dream job, to being an artist.” He finds himself smiling softly, kindly, without even noticing.
The man looks up at him, with something like surprise and gratefulness in his eyes.
“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “Truly.” His eyes are two blue pools one could easily drown in. Not that Jesper is particularly interested, of course.
“I’m Jesper, by the way,” he offers. He puts his hand out, ready to be shaken.
“Wylan,” he says quietly, eyes still awfully earnest and set on Jesper. That kind of intensity is not something he’s used to, and it’s a bit overwhelming — but not in a bad way. It makes Jesper’s insides do something funny. The man — Wylan —frees one hand from whatever he’d been holding and shakes Jesper’s, gently but firmly. To the touch, his hand is awfully cold, while Jesper’s is warm, but he doesn’t mind that at all. He just wiggles their hands a bit, tickling Wylan’s hand like they’re in kindergarten and this is the most fun they could have — but Wylan giggles all the same, eyes bright.
Wylan gives him a kind smile, and there’s a silence that follows, not an uncomfortable one, but Jesper realizes he’s still in this shitty dark storage room with this cute stranger that has just opened up to him and they’re kind of still holding hands—
“So, what did you actually need help with?” Wylan clears his throat, taking his hand away. Jesper instantly misses the soft feeling of it.
“Uh…” Jesper scratches the back of his head. “I usually decorate my Christmas tree with what I already have at home, but I wanted to do something different this year. Can I show you a picture?”
“Sure,” Wylan says, and guides Jesper out of the small storage room and into the main hall, with its too bright lights and too loud songs.
Jesper silently hands him his phone displaying a picture of how he usually decorates his Christmas tree, nothing special really, but — Wylan says nothing for a few seconds, and then he just snorts.
“Shit, this is messy as fuck.”
“Hey, it’s not that bad, I’d like to see yours–”
Wylan smiles up at him from the place he’s still holding Jesper’s phone in his hands, curls falling over bright, blue eyes.
“Mine’s worse, actually. But I didn’t mean… it’s not ugly. It’s just very all over the place and uncoordinated.”
“All synonyms for delightful,” Jesper winks .
Wylan giggles again, and Jesper finds himself far too proud about how he’s nudging him into one little chuckle after the other.
“Okay, okay, but you might want to actually pick a pattern of colors , and stick with that, even if you want them to be the most obnoxious ones known to mankind.”
Jesper smiles. “That… actually sounds like a good idea.”
He gets his phone back, and he gets Wylan guiding him somewhere and eagerly helping him sort things out. Frankly, he doesn’t think he needs that, for his Christmas tree to be prettier and better-looking, but it’s nice to have an excuse to spend a bit more time with Wylan. Saints, he’s pathetic.
Wylan has to leave soon, though, because of clients and other work to do , but Jesper is still left with something warm bubbling up inside him.
When he goes to check out, after a good 10 minutes of just looking and strolling among the labyrinth-like aisles, it’s still the other girl who assists him. He thinks that she’s heard Wylan call her Nina, and thinks she’s Wylan’s friend, if the way he’s heard them chat the other day is anything to go by. She seems to get pretty chatty with Jesper as well, but well — his attention is surely elsewhere.
Jesper goes for the door, and then spots Wylan right next to it, fixing something or another in the aisles.
He decides, against his better judgment, to actually get close to him, and say something like Hi, I’m leaving now and scratch the back of his head like he’s a bit embarrassed. He thinks he is.
He’s usually better at small talk, for fuck’s sake.
Wylan nods like he understands, yet neither of them move. Jesper doesn’t go to the door, Wylan doesn't get back to his ministrations, and they both just stay there like they’re a bit paralyzed.
They stare at each other in silence, for a bit more than Jesper thinks is considered socially acceptable, and he feels himself fidget and get nervous and start thinking about something, anything, he could say to ease the tension, and hopes that he’s not bothering Wylan or making him uncomfortable because fuck—
For the second time, it’s Wylan who breaks the silence. He clears his throat. “I forgot to ask, did your father like the star you bought?”
Jesper smiles, stupidly. He remembered. But of course he did, that’s his fucking job.
“Yeah, plenty. Although… I’m not sure that was the prettiest star this shop has to offer.”
The man’s eyebrows furrow again, and he just looks genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, darling, that you’re the brightest fucking star in this shithole of a place”. It’s out before he can do anything about it, and he feels instantly mortified by it. But, hey, Jesper always gets slightly too reckless after a fight with his Da, and Wylan looking at him with so much intensity certainly doesn’t help.
Wylan gets redder in the face, looking so many things at once — startled, embarrassed, irritated, mortified. It’s a bit too cute, and it makes Jesper’s skin itch, shaken by the need to hysterically laugh at him, or maybe go as far as to kiss him.
“What do you mean, shithole of a place?” he raises his eyebrow hard, and that judging, irritated look is back in place. Like he just looks so fucking affronted. Jesper might have possibly missed it.
“Is that what you’re focusing on?”
“You’re ridiculous.” Wylan just shakes his head, but there’s a tiny, soft smile on his lips. It feels like the most beautiful early Christmas gift. Jesper considers himself blessed.
“Maybe,” he smiles, then checks his watch. “Shit, I have to go now or my best friend will kill me. Really obsessed with the whole punctuality thing, you know.” Wylan snorts, and then just keeps looking up at him with those big, blue eyes, like he’s waiting, or something.
Jesper grins and finds himself talking to this stranger he’s only met, what — once, twice? — with the same ease he would use with his friends. It’s weird, but Jesper doesn’t mind. He really hopes Wylan doesn’t either.
“I’ll…see you around?” Jesper prompts. That sounds weak even to his own ears, and he doesn’t know how many excuses he’s still got in him to come to this place trying to spend as much time as he’s allowed with this delightful man.
“Yeah,” Wylan whispers, sounding oddly relieved. He offers him a smile, too, something small but stupidly, stupidly soft and worth cherishing.
Jesper feels his head spin a bit.
Wylan waves at him, getting lost in the aisles again, and Jesper, maybe naively, steps out into the late November rain, feeling a bit like he’s won something in life.
Wylan. What a fucking delightful name.
Days run one after the other like gazelle, and Jesper gets lost in the routine again, feeling more than a little bit claustrophobic in his small, anonymous office. He’s just one of the many people working 9 to 5, eating dinner, and then getting to bed because they have no strength left in them to do anything but doze off. He hates it, and had always thought there’d be more to life than this dull monotony. But he surely can’t rely on his Da forever, and adulthood seems to annoyingly include all the pain in the ass that comes with bills, and providing for yourself. His Ma would hate it too, and he can just picture the way she’d frown and turn up her nose and tell Jesper that there’s just so much more than ordinary life; one just has to look for it.
Saints, does he miss her.
He doesn’t want to get lost into that train of thought, because he always ends up feeling horribly hopeless, like maybe he’s a little kid who’s just lost his mother all over again. It’s pathetic, and he knows it, because maybe he is still a little kid, frightened and bitter, but what about it?
He needs to call Inej, he really, really needs to talk to his best friend. She always clears his head when he’s feeling like this.
This is the chorus in his head this afternoon — when the minutes seem to blend in together into something infinitesimal but endless. Today, at least, he has something to look forward to, something different to break the monotony of this life that’s been progressively crawling at him.
He gets out of the office, still feeling in no small part like he’s claustrophobic.
He kind of wants to shout, say that he won’t fall into a life like that, but he’s not too sure anymore. So, what he does when he gets out of work, is pick up the phone to call his friend.
Inej is written in plain letters on his phone screen. She has beaten him to it.
“Hi, Jes. You ok?”
“Hey Inej,” he beams. Her voice is startlingly soothing without her even trying, as ever. “And… kinda? I dunno. I’m terribly bored after all those work hours — so, we still up for later?”
“Ah… about that. Actually, that’s why I called,” she sighs over the phone. “Sorry Jes. I really can’t make it today. My aunt is at the hospital, and I really don’t feel like going out. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“Shit,” he curses. “Hey, don’t worry, I totally understand… is she ok?”
“Yeah,” she breathes over the phone. “She’s just fallen down the stairs… we got really worried, you know, with her old age and previous illnesses. Thank the Saints, it doesn’t seem like anything too serious. Thank you for understanding, Jes. You’re a true friend.”
Jesper grins. Inej always has to throw around serious and heartfelt shit like that, even when he’s doing the bare minimum. He's used to it by now — and can’t say he doesn’t appreciate it, really. “Course, love. Take care of yourself, and let me know about your aunt. I’ll probably go there on my own anyway, since I already have the ticket.”
Inej snorts.“Have fun, then. And let’s not pretend you’re not going there hoping to see your crush from the Christmas shop.”
“Inej Ghafa, if you call him my crush again –”
“Jesper Llewellyn Fahey , you’re terrible at hiding your feelings, you know that?” He can hear her smile even from the phone, and it’s as annoying as it is…weirdly comforting. At least, it’s better than Kaz knowing and making fun of him. He hasn’t told him anything yet, hasn’t rambled with him the way he has with Inej. By the way they tend to just tell each other everything, Jesper thinks his secret won’t last long.
“I really have to go now. Bye, loser.”
And just like that, she hangs up, leaving him alone once again. That seems to be a recurring occurrence.
The ice-skating rink isn’t too far, but it’s not just around the corner either. Jesper doesn’t mind a stroll in the frizzy, chilling weather. Maybe it’ll help him clear his head.
Jesper gets lost in the background noises and the colors lit up in houses, shops, street lights, dancing around and ever changing. It’s something he truly does enjoy about living in the city, that keeps him alive and thriving when so much else seems to swallow him whole. He thinks he could not stand living in the vast peace that the countryside has to offer. Not for more than a week, certainly. That hadn’t been nice, and he knows it by experience, knows the whole suffocating lot of it, even if there had been enough love to fill entire houses, but that hadn’t been enough. Not for Jesper, at least. He doesn’t know why, but he’s not wired that way: there’s something about the vastness of the rural areas that makes him inexplicably overwhelmed.
When he gets there, the ice-skating rink is busy, as it always is in the holiday season.
Crowds of people from the town and tourists, all gathering to enjoy a winter wonderland (even if, technically, it’s not even winter yet – but capitalism never seems to care much for such tiny details.) There are children shrieking, and people from all ages coming together in a haze of noise and warmth. It feels just a bit pathetic to go there on his own, when he’s not even that good at ice-skating, but Jesper forces himself not to care. He badly needs something to empty his mind, and this’ll do.
He’s not too good, and he’s not exaggerating or being self-deprecating, because he’s been there with Inej and even Matthias before (Kaz hates ice-skating), and they’ve all made fun of him more than once. He doesn’t get it — he’s good at lots of things, but his legs are lanky as hell and they don’t seem to be exactly comfortable skating on ice. He doesn’t care, because it doesn’t take so little to embarrass Jesper Fahey or rid him of the fun he can find in any situation, but he surely doesn’t make the smoothest of entrances.
He starts fast, not really caring about any professionalism , or shit Matthias would bug him about if he was here. He’s found out he keeps his balance better if he just keeps going, instead of focusing too much on how to take each singular step. But it doesn’t seem to bring him much luck today.
He skates fast and maybe graceless, remembering why it feels good and feeling every worrisome thought leave the tangle in his head, until – well, until he falls unceremoniously and hard on his ass. The floor is made of ice, so of course it’s also biting cold, and Jesper wonders briefly if it’ll leave an embarrassing water stain on his trousers.
Jesper groans, because it really does hurt – most of it is the shock of falling in the first place, he’ll admit, but it doesn’t stop it from being uncomfortable and itchy as hell. He doesn’t even know if he’s able to get up from here without falling on his ass again and that might just cause another scene —
Until, well. He doesn’t have to wonder anymore.
There’s a hand held out right in front of him, ready for him to take and openly offering help.
It doesn’t move away, doesn’t waver, just waiting for whenever Jesper feels ready to hold it.
“Are you okay?” comes the question.
Wylan looks down at him with those unspoiled, earnest blue eyes, just waiting for him to say anything. Maybe Jesper’s reading too much into it, but is that worry on his face?
It’s nice, seeing that he cares, he thinks, a bit dumbly. Or maybe Jesper has fucking low standards, but who the fuck knows.
“Yeah.” Jesper smiles wide and thinks he really, really means it this time. “Just wanted to drop on my ass for fun.”
Wylan giggles loud and bright, and Jesper does take his hand, now. He would never turn down that offer.
When Jesper’s on his own two feet again, he sees Wylan gnaw at his lower lip like he’s thinking about something. “I saw you skating here before. Your balance’s not quite right. I...I can show you how, if you want,” he says.
Jesper raises an eyebrow. “Patronizing much, huh?”
Wylan’s cheeks flush a gorgeous pink. “That’s not what I meant. But I learned to ice skate when I was very young. My mother used to be really good at it.”
Jesper’s smile softens. “That’d be my pleasure, then.” He bows a little, then clears his throat. “I don’t… exactly suck, you know. I’m just a bit rusty.” He feels like that’s a very important thing to specify. He has to protect his image in front of his crush (if that’s what they’re calling it now), after all.
Wylan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, of course you are.”
Jesper fakes annoyance, but he’d be lying if he said he’s feeling anything but butterflies fluttering hard in his stomach at the moment. Wylan starts moving, and keeps Jesper’s hand held tight and securely in his. He’s stronger than Jesper thought he’d be, and Jesper feels weirdly safe, treasured, even, with the gentle press of Wylan’s hand holding and guiding his. It’s strange, considering he almost doesn’t know this man at all.
Wylan is truly good, better, even, than he gives himself credit for, coordinated and gracious in the way he moves over the ice, like it just comes that easy for him. Strangely, he’s plenty patient with Jesper too, and it’s different from the snappish replies Jesper’s heard before, that snarky tone and spice that follow him in everything he says. Apparently, he’s just like that: a mystery to unfold, wonderfully complex in everything that makes him him. It makes it somehow altogether better, too, to know that this man is one who doesn’t hesitate to say what’s on his mind, and that has kindness so freely given in the most eager ways.
They skate, they laugh and Jesper falls on his ass at least two more times. It’s not that bad, though, with a soft, slender hand ready to catch him and help him up.
When Jesper says that that’s enough ice-skating lessons for today , Wylan goes pirouetting just five more minutes on his own, with Jesper attentively staring at the way he so easily, gracefully moves. It’s thrilling, and he’s a sight for sore eyes.
He waits for him outside, and watches absentmindedly as Wylan covers his hands in soft mittens. He’s cute, he thinks, stupidly.
Then he blinks. Wylan is next to him, again, before he realizes.
“Um… so.” Jesper clears his throat.
Wylan looks at him questioningly, and Jesper hopes he’s not fucking anything up or reading too much into this. He just goes for it, in the end, because that’s all he ever does, and also — Wylan’s gorgeous eyes on him make him a bit stupid.
“There’s a place just around the corner that makes a really nice hot chocolate... if you wanted to —” Jesper trails off, and hopes his meaning is clear, because he feels smug and confident and relaxed about plenty things, but Wylan just makes him nervous in a way that he doesn’t quite fully understand.
Wylan smiles wide, light glimmering in his beautiful eyes like some precious gem. It’s truly a big smile, maybe the most genuine and sweet one Jesper has seen from him yet, and Jesper would do anything in the world to see it again.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, eager and honest as ever. Jesper’s learned that about him: he’s just like a clear blue winter sky. He’s startling with how true and earnest he is, endless and lighting up everything with his simplicity. And Jesper, he feels strangely pushed to genuineness when he’s spending time with Wylan, as used as he is to lying, jumping around things and putting on a façade when things get tough. Maybe he’s just always been a coward all this time, and Wylan is showing him another type of courage.
That’s where their evening starts, and this is where it goes: them tucked in a busy cafe, drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon cookies (Jesper’s treat, he had insisted), with Jesper saying plenty stupid shit to make Wylan laugh and, more often than not, succeeding at his task. He feels very, very pleased with himself. Especially with how the night ends.
Jesper had asked if he could walk Wylan home — just a silly excuse to spend some more time with him — and Wylan had smiled and nodded like that was all he was waiting for. Wylan’s house isn’t very far down the road, and Jesper found himself mildly disappointed by the fact, but surely less disappointed when he gave Wylan a kiss on the cheek right in front of his door, and Wylan had tugged him forward and just went for a real, proper kiss that had just left Jesper with a happy dizziness in his head. A perfect day, indeed.
“Jesper! Stop pulling mistletoes out of your pockets whenever you think I can’t see you!”
“Not my fault you’re so kissable, Wy.” He winks, still holding that fucking stupid thing on top of their heads.
Wylan rolls his eyes. They’ve been dating for three weeks now, and Jesper had insisted that they should spend Christmas day together, because neither of them really had anyone else to happily spend it with. So, now they’re here, in Jesper’s apartment, a set of cookies baking in the oven, afternoon lazily spent dancing to shitty Christmas music (that Wylan finds cringe but Jesper adores) and kissing each other silly between one dance and another. Jesper still hasn’t received a proper mistletoe kiss, because Wylan is stubborn like that, but Wylan knows that isn’t going to stop him from trying and trying again.
Jesper looks so wonderfully lazy, holding Wylan by the waist and smiling from ear to ear, like there’s nothing else he would prefer doing than this.
“Favorite Christmas song. One, two, three, go” Jesper says, prodding Wylan in the stomach.
“Last Christmas,” Wylan confesses.
“A classic,” Jesper grins, wide as anything.
“It’s the best one. What’s yours?”
“Mistletoe. By Justin Bieber,” Jesper says, without batting an eye.
Wylan laughs loud, incredulous. “Of course it is.”
“Hey,” Jesper says, looking affronted. “What do you m—”
He gets stopped by the sudden, loud ringing of a phone.
Jesper stays right where he is, with one arm still thrown over Wylan’s waist, but takes the call.
Hello, Da, Merry Christmas to you too. Yes, Wylan is here. I — no, not yet, for the love of the Saints, Da — no, that’s embarrassing. Yes, we’re coming tomorrow for lunch — yes, he likes turkey. Yes, I told you he’s picky about food but not that picky.
“Hey!” Wylan feels suddenly outraged. He wants to make a good impression on Jesper's father, after all. “Why’d you tell him that?” he whispers.
“Cause it’s true.” Jesper whispers back, and laughs, and ruffles his hair. Then he gets back to his father on the other side of the line.
I’m happy to see you too, and don’t stress too much about tomorrow. What? Da, I… I know safe sex is important, please just stop talking about it. Oh my God, this is mortifying. Bye, Da. Merry Christmas. Love you.
After that, there’s a long silence, and if Wylan didn’t know better, he’d almost think that —
“Jesper.”
“Mhh?”
“Are you embarrassed?”
Jesper scoffs. “Why would I be?”
“Because your father was worrying about safe sex.”
“Be quiet," he says, but there’s an undeniable smile creeping up on his face.
Wylan laughs brightly, so delighted by the sight of Jesper Fahey embarrassed by his father that he thinks he could die a happy man right now. He feels Jesper wiggle him closer, burying his nose in the crook of Wylan’s neck.
“There’s some batter on your cheek.”
“That’s not true, you’re just saying it so you’ll trick me to kiss you under the mistletoe you’ll get out of your pocket when I least expect it.”
Jesper laughs. “Okay, that's fair, but I swear there’s some right beside your nose.”
“And why didn’t you notice before, hm?”
“Because I was too captured by your beauty.”
Wylan laughs, can’t not laugh, because this man he has found, he has chosen , and is falling in love with, is absolutely ridiculous.
“Okay, fine, then get it off me.”
Jesper doesn’t need telling twice and leans in close to brush the batter off of Wylan’s face, then, abruptly, takes the opportunity to kiss him. Just something soft, a silly peck on his lips that makes Wylan feel warm and special all the same. He cups Wylan’s face in his hands with reverence, like he’s holding the whole world.
He had told Wylan something similar, on a drunken night just some days before, giggling into kisses and saying, people say you can’t hold the whole world in your hands, but I can — and proceeded to cradle Wylan’s face softly in his hands, looking at him with a seriousness that Wylan so rarely gets to see from him . That had been stupid, silly, because that’s mostly how Jesper shows his feelings, but Wylan had felt his heart flutter at such easily given honesty. He’d been too embarrassed to bring it up, because they’re still early in this relationship thing and have just recently started calling each other boyfriends (a word Wylan truly adores), but he had really, really liked that.
Now, Jesper breaks the kiss, grinning wide in a way that makes him absolutely impossible to stay mad at, like there’s nothing else he’d like to do more in the world than look at his boyfriend and smile at him like that.
“See! I finally got my mistletoe kiss.” He wiggles the mistletoe — and Ghezen, Wylan hadn’t even realised he had put it above them this time.
Wylan rolls his eyes, with nothing but fondness behind it. He elbows him, but leans in again to kiss Jesper properly, because he kind of tastes like the cinnamon cookies they’ve made.
They spend the day like that — sharing presents under the tree, playing with snowballs, and Wylan having to change into Jesper’s clothes because his are too wet with melted snow (not that he minds, and Jesper certainly doesn’t seem like he minds either). They lay on the couch, watching classics and binge-worthy movies, as the house fills with the noise of bright giggles and kisses, and the smell of cinnamon cookies. They fall asleep in the living room; too sleepy to even get into the bedroom, with Wylan atop of his boyfriend, and Jesper with legs and arms thrown chaotically all over the couch. There’s just a quilted blanket above them, because the house is plenty warm, and Jesper’s body radiates heat for the both of them.
The house is silent, perfectly covered by snow as it keeps falling magically, magically, and covering the ground in its enchantment. The room they’re sleeping in isn’t big, but it’s brightened up by the two of them together. It’s new, it’s altogether different from what the both of them know, but they’ve found this small thing they cherish, now held closely, softly next to their hearts. It feels a little bit like a secret. It feels, in no smaller part, like falling in love.