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The next morning, they were roped in by Kaz to guard a delivery—an earlier morning than either of them enjoyed. So once the delivery had been made safely, they returned to Jesper's room for a long nap.

Jesper had arranged for tea to be brought up in the afternoon. He carried in the tea things and set them at the foot of the bed, pouring them both cups of the steaming, fragrant tea before settling back into bed next to Wylan.

This was … like nothing he had ever imagined. If he'd ever stopped to think about what it might be like to be with someone all the time, he would never have thought of the way all the noise seemed to quiet itself when Wylan was near, the way he suddenly felt comfortable with that quiet like he never had before, the way Wylan fit so comfortably into his arms, and his life, as if he was meant to be there. "It is good to be home," he sighed happily, leaning back against the headboard, wrapping one arm around Wylan's shoulders.

Wylan wished he felt the same. He wanted to be with Jesper—wanted it more than he could ever remember wanting anything. But Ketterdam? Ketterdam was still what it had always been. Cold, grimy, noisy, and smelly. Wylan couldn't see the beauty in it the way Jesper did. "You keep saying that," he observed, taking a sip of tea.

"I—it hasn't worn off. I mean, look—I enjoy saving the world just as much as anyone else." Likely that wasn't quite true, but it was close enough. "The fame, the fortune … Especially the fortune."

"Yeah." Wylan looked around the room. It was warmer here than he'd ever felt in the Barrel before he'd met the Crows, but he still wasn't entirely sure he belonged. "I mean, it is nicer than the tannery." He took a deep swallow of the tea, wondering if he should say anything more. Probably he should keep quiet, let his unease be his own problem. But … he wanted to say. He wanted Jesper to understand that Ketterdam wasn't the endless carnival for everyone that it was for him. "You know … Ketterdam's never really been that welcoming to me. It's never … never really felt like home."

Jesper's hand dropped to Wylan's sleeve, fingers gently caressing his arm. He could understand why someone like Wylan wasn't necessarily drawn to the seedier side of Ketterdam the way he was; he hoped in the time ahead of them he could show him more of what Jesper loved about the Barrel, let him see other parts of it the way he had seen Poppy's show.

But he also felt a chill of worry. Wylan's words reminded him of the way he had been in Ravka before they left—a little bit withdrawn, with a shadow in his eyes. What if he still wasn't happy here? What if he wanted to leave Ketterdam, leave the Barrel, leave the Crows … leave Jesper? It was surprisingly difficult to contemplate life without him.

Picking up a coin that lay on his bedside table, Jesper turned it round in the fingers of his free hand. Coins into keys, his mother had said. He could do that. He could turn something to gamble with into something to keep, something to present to Wylan, something to show him that he did have a home here … something to show him that it wouldn't be home for Jesper without him. Not anymore.

Unaware of Jesper's response, Wylan kept talking, his eyes on the far wall. "But the Crows need a demo man … and there's no one better than me." He wasn't sure if he really believed that—but maybe the Crows' general certainty that they were the best at what they did had rubbed off on him. Or maybe he just wanted Jesper to believe it. They both laughed a little. Wylan glanced at Jesper, but looked away, while Jesper's eyes stayed on his face. "So of course I came back."

Jesper's free hand, with the coin tucked securely inside, had dropped to the side of the bed. Coins into keys. He used to be good at that. He'd done it to unlock his handcuffs. He could do it now.

It was hard to focus, though. The very idea that Wylan might be unhappy enough not to want to stay cut his breathing off, sending panic spiking through him.

His eyes on Wylan's face, he said hesitantly, "What if it … did feel more like home?"

"Hm?"

Jesper proudly produced the key. Or what he had hoped would be a key. This was more of a lump of metal in a vaguely key-like shape. Not at all what he had tried to make. "Oh," he said, disappointed. The one time he'd really wanted to use the power and it failed him utterly.

"Oh?" Wylan took the metal thing and studied it. "Oh, what's this? Is it like—is that a coat hook?"

Well, that had been a complete and utter failure. He shouldn't even have tried. It was a stupid idea anyway. "Ah, forget it." Jesper climbed out of bed, retreating across the room. "Forget it, forget it. Ah!" He chuckled weakly, trying to put the whole idea behind him. He couldn't even make a simple key; how could he imagine he could make Wylan happy?

"What? No." Whatever Jesper had meant by making this … thing for him, Wylan wanted to appreciate it. He looked at it more closely, recognizing the shape now. "Oh! Oh, it's a key."

Jesper nodded. "Yes."

"What does it open?"

Did he say, now? Or did he pretend it had been nothing? But it wasn't nothing. It was … everything. And Jesper couldn't deny how much he wanted this—Wylan here with him, every day, all the time, belonging here. It was remarkably hard to say it, though. His eyes dropped, unable to watch Wylan when he said it. "This room."

But then he did look, holding his breath, waiting for the response.

Wylan froze. Was this happening? Was Jesper Fahey asking him to … live with him? To be with him, all the time? Looking into Jesper's face, seeing the hesitance in his eyes, the nervousness in every line of his body, Wylan could feel what this meant to him, and he was so touched he could barely breathe. "That is … the kindest thing that anyone's ever done for me."

"So … is that … a yes?" Jesper could hardly get the words out.

"Yes. Yes! Yes, I will." Wylan got to his knees. There weren't enough 'yes'es in the world for how much he wanted this. "I will move in with you."

The words hit Jesper hard. Was he really ready for this? It felt like a big step, all of a sudden. Even as he was climbing onto the bed, he was walking it back in a sudden panic. "Oh, uh … move in. That suddenly sounds very official, and now that you've said that I'm—I'm not so—"

Wylan might not yet be an expert in all things Jesper, but he understood his overthinking … and how to cure it. Taking Jesper's face in his hands, he kissed him, relieved to feel Jesper's hands come up to grasp his arms and Jesper's mouth tilt into the kiss.

When he pulled back Jesper took a deep breath. "So … you moving in means I get kisses all the time, right?"

"Oh, yes." Wylan suited the action to the words.

Jesper's hands moved to his shirt, clutching the fabric and feeling the outline of Wylan's ribs beneath it. "And I can make you stop working and get a decent meal every once in a while?" Shyly, Wylan ducked his head, and Jesper tilted his face back up with a gentle finger under his chin. "And I get to wake up to your face every morning?"

"If I get to fall asleep to your voice every night."

Jesper chuckled. "Oh, I think you can pretty much count on that."

Displaying the key still in his hand, Wylan said, "And I can help you get better at this kind of thing." He smiled, and Jesper blushed.

"In my defense, I was nervous."

"And …" Wylan gestured to the room around them. "And this would be a place where we could both always feel safe."

Jesper smiled at him, one of those shy smiles that Wylan was pretty sure no one else got to see. "When you put it like that, it doesn't sound official at all. It sounds …"

"Magical?"

Nodding, Jesper pulled him in for another kiss. "Magical."

Wylan lay in bed that night staring up at the ceiling, listening to Jesper's deep, even breathing. He hadn't been sure what would happen when they came back to Ketterdam. He had half-expected Jesper to decide that Wylan didn't fit into his life here and end things between them.

Instead, he had left the club to come and be with Wylan in his workshop. He had taken Wylan to Poppy's show and held his hand in public. He had introduced Wylan to Poppy—granted, not as his boyfriend or anything, but their relationship had been evident to Poppy anyway, it seemed. He had broached the topic of Wylan's musical notation system without remarking on it being strange or implying that letters were better.

And today, he had asked Wylan to share his life, every part of it. To live it with him, side by side.

Before he was sure he was going to speak, Wylan heard his own voice in the quiet of the room. "Jesper?"

"Mm?" Jesper rolled over and nuzzled into Wylan's neck, breathing a satisfied sigh. He still wasn't quite awake, though.

"Jesper."

Pushing himself up on one elbow, Jesper blinked at him in the darkness. "You okay?"

Wylan nodded, although he wasn't entirely sure. "Can I—can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything."

"Will you—" It was a terrifying question. "Will you read to me?"

"What, right now?"

"No. I mean, later. And when … when I need to be—need to be read to."

"Oh. Of course. Anytime." Jesper snuggled in again and it was clear he was on his way back to sleep.

Wylan was astounded. "Jesper."

"Uh-huh?"

"Don't you want to … I don't know, ask me questions?"

"About what?"

"About why I can't read."

"Oh." Jesper sat up fully this time. "No, not really. You're obviously incredibly intelligent; you're also obviously well-educated. If you can't read, it's not because no one's ever tried to teach you, so it must be to do with how your brain works. We all have our quirks, don't we? This one's yours." He smiled, pleased with himself. "Listen to me, making deductions. I've spent too much time with Kaz."

Wylan blinked, near tears. He would never have guessed when they first met what a generous heart lay beneath Jesper's persona.

Gently, Jesper cupped his cheek. "If there's anything you want to tell me, you can. I want you to know that. But if there are things you don't want to tell me, that's up to you. In the meantime, if you want me to read to you, of course I will. Happily."

It occurred to Wylan that lying here listening to Jesper's voice make music of those incomprehensible jumbles of letters would be a joy beyond any practical benefits it brought him.

"There might be a price, though," Jesper added, yawning and cuddling up again, his head on Wylan's shoulder.

"I wonder what."

"Not what you're thinking. You have a very dirty mind." Jesper chuckled sleepily.

"Oh, really? I do?" Wylan shook his head. "What, then?"

"Play music for me."

Smiling into the darkness, Wylan said, "I would love to."

"Good." And Jesper was asleep again, wrapped around Wylan like a blanket.

Wylan lay awake for a long time, wondering how he had possibly gotten so lucky.