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They had started out kissing.
It hadn’t taken long, not with the way Wylan was a permanent shade of red all throughout dinner thanks to Jesper’s shameless flirting, for Wylan to eventually have enough and drag him out of the dining room so he could shove him down onto the bed to capture his lips in a fiery, all consuming kiss.
In fact, Jesper was almost surprised with how long Wylan lasted before he snapped. He hadn’t complained at the outcome though, not at all.
They weren’t kissing anymore however. Wylan had hurriedly stripped Jesper of his shirt without breaking the kiss but now he’d sat back, still straddling him and still infuriatingly fully clothed, to stare at Jesper’s exposed torso with a small frown.
“What’s up Wy?” he asked, a little breathless, a little desperate. In all honesty he just wanted Wylan to come back up and kiss him again. Wylan’s brows furrowed a little more as he reached out to trace one of the scars on his chest, “that one’s new,” Wylan remarked, looking just a little bit worried.
Jesper smiled up at him, fingers playing absently with the hem of Wylan’s shirt, “it’s nothing Wy, don’t worry.” He leaned up so he could kiss him again only for Wylan to push him back down with a small chuckle, “I’m serious Jes,” he murmured, letting his touch linger on the small scar. It really was tiny, just a small nick near his collarbone that for some reason hadn’t healed over completely.
Jesper sighed, resigning himself to a lecture, why did his merchling have to care about him? “I got it a few weeks ago,” he admitted, looking away. He felt a little bit guilty and he wasn’t entirely sure why, “on that job with Kaz, one of the cronies had a knife and it just nicked me.” Wylan's frown deepened, “why didn’t you tell me you got hurt?” he accused, tearing his gaze away from the little scar so he could search Jesper’s face instead. He shrugged, “it was no big deal Wy, I didn’t want you to worry.”
Wylan shifted where he sat on his lap and Jesper had to bite his lip to prevent any noises from escaping, this wasn’t really the conversation to be interrupting with that, “still,” Wylan insisted, looking back down at his chest, “I’d prefer it if you told me about these things, no matter how small, alright?”
“Alright,” Jesper said, running his hands over the tops of Wylan’s thighs, “alright, I promise, now will you please come back up here and kiss me?”
But Wylan just ignored him, staring down at his torso with wide eyes as if he’d only just noticed something for the first time, “you’ve got a lot of scars,” Wylan said, his voice rather surprised. Jesper snorted, “we’ve been together how long and you’ve only just noticed?”
Wylan looked away, his cheeks flushing that gorgeous shade of red, “well I’m normally rather preoccupied whenever your shirtless.”
“Yes and here I am, shirtless, and you are very much not preoccupied.”
Wylan rolled his eyes, “insatiable bastard,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft smile. Jesper’s favourite one, the left sided one. He grinned, “yes I’m an insatiable desert now will you please shower me with affection before I shrivel up and die.”
Wylan rolled his eyes once more but thank the fucking saints he leant forward, his hands sliding to the base of Jesper’s neck, “you’re so dramatic,” he chuckled, his breathe ghosting over his face.
“You love it.”
Wylan pulled away suddenly, grinning at the frustrated groan Jesper let out. Saints he knew Wylan could be a little shit but this was taking the fucking cake.
“Wylan,” he complained, probably sounding a little too desperate but he didn’t care anymore. Wylan’s smile turned sharper and he looked Jesper up and down critically, like he was sizing up his prey, “you want me to kiss you?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in a perfectly innocent way but Jesper saw right through him, the little minx.
“Yes.”
“Then be patient darling,” he said sharply, pressing down a little harder on his chest. Jesper let his head fall back against the pillows, biting his lip. This was not how he’d expected this night to go, but -oh who was he kidding, he liked it.
“Patience is my middle name,” he managed and Wylan snorted, “sure Lewellyn.” Jesper swatted his hip, “oi! Leave my family name out of this merchling.”
Wylan leant forward again, but the kiss didn’t come where he had expected it to. Instead, he pressed his lips just below his collarbone, right onto the small scar he had been so worried about before. Jesper’s hand twitched involuntarily where it rested on Wylan’s hip, “you’re playing dirty merchling,” he said, voice shaking ever so slightly. Saints Wylan could really turn him into a mess without needing to do anything at all.
“Do you want me to stop?” Wylan murmured against his skin and he could feel the little devil smirking.
No. No he definitely didn’t want Wylan to stop. Not now, not ever. There was a feeling in his chest, stirring like a sleeping cat, a feeling that threatened to overwhelm his very being but he pushed it down, not wanting to think about something so large, so scary. It had been six months since the Auction, and for someone who lived life on the edge like Jesper did, it was like a lifetime to him. He could barely remember a life without Wylan in it, and he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think of a life without music and laughter and snarky quips. So he didn’t think, instead he immersed himself in the present, drowning in the feeling of Wylan’s lips on his skin, the scorching touch of his hands on his chest.
Wylan sniggered at Jesper’s lack of response, “thought so.” His lips trailed across his chest until they fixed themselves on Jesper’s shoulder, “where’s this one from?” He murmured between kisses.
Jesper craned his neck to see, “uh,” it was a little hard for him to focus when Wylan was doing that with his mouth but he tried anyway, “gunshot wound, from about two years ago.”
“Did it hurt?”
Jesper scoffed lightly, “I can’t remember. Probably. It is a gunshot after all.”
Wylan flicked his collarbone, already moving down his chest, “don’t be a smart ass,” he grumbled before concentrating on the faint line across his stomach, “this one?”
Jesper sat up slightly, finding the scar Wylan was talking about easily. He laughed, he’d practically forgotten all about that incident, “knife wound, Inej darling was the culprit for that one.”
Wylan blinked, pulling away a bit in surprise, “Inej?” he sounded downright incredulous and Jesper snorted, it was hard to believe Inej would stab one of them.
“She was only new to the Dregs,” he clarified, “and I was giving her some pointers on hand to hand combat. She got too into it at one point though and forgot we were only training,” he laughed again, “she still feels guilty about it I think, she’s always buying me waffles to make up for it.”
Wylan tapped the scar with his forefinger, “well I don’t need to ask if that hurt.”
“No I think that one’s a given.”
There were hands on his chest again and Jesper found himself bring shoved back against the pillow, “now stay this time.” Wylan demanded, swatting his arm lightly. Jesper grinned, “I need to be able to see the scars if you want me to talk about them darling.”
Wylan shot him a look that felt like hot wax dripping down his spine and he promptly shut his mouth. “You’ll figure it out,” Wylan said smartly, with a devilish smile on his face and saints Jesper would do just about anything for him. The thought scared him just a little and that thing in his chest stirred again. He didn’t fully understand what that feeling was, all he knew was that it was big and scary and he’d never felt like that before. Which was incentive enough for him to ignore it.
“Carry on then,” he said, far weaker then he would’ve liked and Wylan grinned like he knew exactly what effect he was having on him. Little devil.
There was a long, deep scar on his side, that started just under his armpit and travelled along the length of his abdomen until it reached his hipbone and that was the scar Wylan chose to kiss next. His lips trailed along its length, pressing a longer kiss at the more rough parts of it. Jesper swallowed, already anticipating the question and braced himself for it. That particular scar was always a painful memory to return to, and not because of how he acquired it.
“What the hell did you do here?”
“There’s no way you haven’t seen this one before,” he said, and if he was stalling, well that was for him to know and him alone. Wylan huffed, “of course I’ve seen it, bit hard not to, I just never thought to ask what happened.”
“So now you’re asking.”
“Now I’m asking.”
He sighed, taking a breathe that was probably far deeper then it needed to be, “a horse riding accident,” he said slowly, carefully, “I fell off and the horse trampled on me, but he was wearing metal shoes -naturally- and the corner of the shoe sliced me open,” he paused while Wylan sucked in a sympathetic breathe, “my Ma…” he swallowed, “my Ma had to sow me up.”
Wylan blinked, fingers still aimlessly tracing the bumpy lines of the scar, “oh.” Was all he said and yeah, oh indeed. They had gotten one of the doctors from the nearby town to have a look at him afterwards but in the moment his Ma had to do the best she could. He couldn’t even remember how long it had taken, he just remembered her hands in his hair and her soft voice soothing him through the process. “She died, a few weeks later.”
Wylan made a sympathetic noise and then crawled back up his torso so he could press their foreheads together, his hands on either side of his face, thumbs tracing small circles on his cheek. Wylan may have gotten his mother back, but he still remembered how it felt to lose her. Still experienced the pain that comes after. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and Jesper snorted without meaning to, “don’t be apologising, you didn’t do anything.”
“I know,” he said softly, “but I get it.”
Jesper knew he did, and that alone made things a whole lot easier for him.
Wylan sat back, hands still cradling his face, only now he looked rather unsure. Jesper cracked a smile, tapping Wylan’s hip, “I still want you to kiss me you know.” Wylan huffed out a surprised laugh, “you really are insatiable.”
Jesper made a scandalised noise and moved his hands up so he could squeeze his waist pointedly, “hard not to be when you keep teasing me like this.”
“You asked me to kiss you,” Wylan said matter-of-factly, bending over once more so that he could speak directly into Jesper’s ear, “I am kissing you.”
That feeling in his chest stirred again and Jesper was nearly overcome with the sheer enormity of it. Wylan had gone back to kissing his scars, starting with the one that cut through his eyebrow and moving down his neck. He didn’t have any scars on his neck but Wylan kissed it anyway, sucking and biting down like if he tried hard enough he’d finally manage to make a mark that showed against his dark skin. And still, Jesper could only focus on Wylan. On his hot breathe against his neck, on his hands, cold to the touch yet scorching against his bare chest, like hot irons. He focused on the feeling of Wylan’s hair, fiery and untameable, tickling under his chin. He attempted to unbutton Wylan’s own shirt, even the odds a little but he batted his hand away, biting down hard on his collarbone as if that was a punishment. Jesper was a little tempted to ask him to do it again.
He loved this, these nights where they did nothing but this, soft kisses on every patch of skin they could reach, purple marks left to worry about in the morning. The nights where it didn’t always go any further, where they just continued to worship each other in the best ways possible. But he also loved the other nights, where they curled up together, Jesper stroking his hair while they talked about anything and everything. The nights where Jesper told him stories, sometimes from a book and other times from his own head, memories of stories his Ma had told him many years ago. And then, of course, there were the nights when it burned too hot , too much, and they were busy shoving each other onto the nearest surfaces, pulling as much as they could from the other until the fire inside died down.
He loved the mornings too, the lazy ones where Wylan would cling to him from behind until Jesper got too jittery to stay cuddling for much longer. The mornings when Wylan had to get up early for a meeting but Jesper refused to let him go, lying on top of him until Wylan threatened throw away his revolvers. He loved the mornings when Wylan rolled over and told him “he wasn’t quite ready for breakfast just yet,” and dictated just how the rest of their morning would be spent. Jesper was always happy to comply, he would happily give Wylan anything and everything for the rest of his life.
And he loved the times in between, the days spent in the office looking over finances because working was, unfortunately, a necessity if they wanted to stay super rich. Jesper would always try and make Wylan laugh during those hours in front of papers, painfully aware of the way Wylan tensed up whenever he was in that room. He suggested once that they do their work elsewhere but Wylan had refused. He loved the days spent in the workshop, building bombs of some sort, whether they were for Kaz or for fun made no difference, Wylan liked making them and Jesper liked making him happy.
Really, and it was a surprise it had taken him so long to figure it out, he just loved Wylan.
Wylan with his Zemini Sky blue eyes, fiery red hair and a thousand freckles dotting his pale skin like his very own constellation. Jesper liked to kiss his freckles. Wylan with his crooked nose and left sided smile, and tiny scar on his jawline from when Keeg had split his face open. Wylan with his earnest frown and cheeky smile who always did everything he could to make Jesper pay for all the times he made him flustered. Wylan who was still hopelessly easy to turn red, despite all they’d done by now.
He just loved Wylan.
The feeling in his chest burned ever hotter, like it was rejoicing in the fact Jesper could finally put a name to it. Love. Because that was what it was. He loved Wylan. And how could he not? Wylan was everything to him, and really he should have realised by now that he loved him.
Wylan detached himself from his neck, seemingly satisfied with his work and he tilted Jesper’s head up with a scorching hand on his chin, hovering over him for a minute, breathe hot where it wafted against his mouth and yeah, Jesper loved him.
“I love you,” Jesper blurted, just as Wylan leaned in, because he had to tell him, had to let it out otherwise he feared he just might explode from the enormity of it.
Wylan stiffened and for one, heart stopping moment, Jesper was afraid he’d said the wrong thing, that Wylan didn’t want to hear that from him. But then he pulled back, just enough that his clearwater eyes could scan Jesper’s face hurriedly, “say that again,” he whispered, his hand shaking slightly where it still tilted his chin up.
The look on his face hurt, because it was clearly that of someone who hadn’t heard those words in a long time and Jesper vowed that he’d say them everyday for the rest of his life, that Wylan would never go another moment without knowing he was loved, “I love you,” he said again, relinquishing Wylan’s hip so he could cup his cheek. Wylan leant into his touch and Jesper smiled, “I love you Wylan, saints it’s crazy that it took me so long to realise it but I do, I love you.”
The words had barely left Jesper’s mouth when Wylan was grabbing hold of his face and pressing their lips together once more. This kiss was different though, to the ones they’d shared before. It was desperate sure, but it was also careful, passionate and so very consuming. Like Wylan was trying to express with this kiss all that he couldn’t say with words. Jesper understood.
“I love you too,” Wylan gasped out when they separated for air. He laughed lightly, sounding more then a bit unbelieving, “Ghezen Jes, I love you so much its terrifying.”
Jesper grinned, intertwining their hands together so he could press a kiss to the back of Wylan’s, “exactly how I feel merchling,” he murmured, not looking away from the sunlit ocean of Wylan’s eyes. He didn’t ever want to look away, Wylan’s eyes were like home and he wanted nothing more then to dive headfirst into them.
Wylan leaned forward, pressing their lips together again, except this time Jesper could feel his smile and knew it was mirrored on his own face. He slipped his hands under Wylan’s shirt, grinning at the noise it prompted, so he could skim over his smooth sides. He didn’t need to see to know exactly where the starry expanse of freckles lay and he traced over them to the best of his ability. He pulled away just a fraction so that he could murmur out a quick, “next time we do this, I’m kissing every single one of those freckles.”
Wylan laughed softly, deciding to finally indulge Jesper by unbuttoning his pale blue shirt, “that’s a lot of kisses,” he remarked, pulling the shirt off over his shoulders.
Jesper eyed said freckles admiringly, “are you complaining?”
“Not at all,” was the rushed reply and Jesper would have responded except then Wylan’s hands were moving lower and all hopes of coherent thought were lost completely.
There was only one thought he managed to hold onto, and that was just how much he loved Wylan. He should be afraid, he’d never loved anyone as much as he loved him, and in part he was, but it was also Wylan, and Jesper could never, would never, wish to feel anything less for him then pure, devoted love.
For once, Jesper found he had hit the jackpot, and he was not going to let this one slip between his fingers.