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"It's good to be home," Jesper said in satisfaction, looking around at their refurbished new digs.
The Dregs Club had been reborn in their absence as the new Crow Club. It was familiar, but it was different, too. Kaz's instructions had been carried out to the letter, and Jesper could see that this was about to become the hot spot of the Barrel. Which meant play, but it also meant work. He couldn't have been happier.
But much as he looked forward to investigating the gaming tables, and the wheel, and the bar … for right now, he mostly wanted to investigate his bed, and Wylan.
Kaz apparently had other ideas. Because of course he did. After his survey of the room, he turned to Jesper. "We'll need to start gathering—"
"Tomorrow, Kaz," Jesper said.
"We've already been away too long. You take your eyes off the game for long enough, someone else starts moving in, and you can never get that territory back."
Wylan looked from Jesper to Kaz and back again. Kaz was going to persuade him, because it seemed that Jesper was unable to say no to Kaz, and who knew what they would get embroiled in before there was time for anything else. And since the one constant in the past several days of poor sleep and no food and constant danger and near death and uncertainty about the future was how much Wylan wanted—needed—to get Jesper alone, and naked, the last thing he was willing to do was let Kaz talk Jesper into some job that was going to keep that from happening.
Taking Jesper's hand in his, he cut into Kaz's stream of orders. "Tomorrow, Kaz," he said firmly, and tugged Jesper toward the stairs.
Jesper looked from Wylan to Kaz, gave his business partner a shrug and his lover a delighted smile, and allowed himself to be dragged from the room, the sound of Nina's laugh following them up the stairs.
In the hallway, he grasped the back of Wylan's jacket, pulling him back against his chest and breathing into his ear, "That was so hot," before letting his mouth explore down the side of Wylan's neck.
That voice in his ear never failed to make him go weak in the knees. But they were still in the hallway, and Wylan wanted to be able to put down his pack full of chemicals, currently slung over one shoulder. "Key, Jesper."
"Hm?"
"Key."
"Oh. Right." Letting go of Wylan with one hand, Jesper dug into his pocket for the key to his room, stumbling after Wylan down the hall, unwilling to stop kissing his neck long enough to look where he was going.
At last he managed to get the key out, and between them they inserted it into the lock and turned it, nearly falling through the door when it opened.
Jesper closed the door behind him and leaned back against it, surveying the familiar surroundings. Not that they'd been in these digs for long, but it was a lot like his room at the original Crow Club … and it was the Barrel again, no doom hanging over the world, all as it should be. "Oh, it is good to be home," he sighed.
Wylan was tucking his pack carefully under a chair where none of its contents would be disturbed, and he cast Jesper a small smile over his shoulder. He wasn't sure he necessarily felt like the Barrel was home … but if Jesper was happy, he was happy.
Tossing his hat across the room, where it caught neatly on the spindle of a chair back and hung there, Jesper slipped off coat and vest in one movement, dropping them on the floor, and tugged his tie off over his head before sitting down on the bed to take off his boots.
Still in shirt and kilt and knee socks, he looked at Wylan, whose coat and vest and tie were carefully folded on a table, and held out his arms. "Come here."
The fires they had been banking since they stood outside Ohval's house in the mist of the early dawn sprang to life at the first touch of their lips. Seeking hands hastily pushed aside the clothing that remained in the way, desperate need driving them on until the fire had swept through them and left them panting in its wake, lying there side by side, fingers tangled together.
When he thought he could form a coherent sentence again, Wylan said, "Jesper."
"Mm-hm?"
"What now?" he asked. Jesper propped himself up on one elbow, a truly wicked look in his eyes, and Wylan giggled. "Yes, but … after that."
"Oh. You mean, like … tomorrow."
"And the day after that. And so on."
"More of the same, I hope." Jesper matched a wicked smile to the look in his eyes. "And … life." He waved a hand around them to include the entire Barrel. "Breakfast, and shows, and heists, and … whatever comes."
Wylan closed his eyes. It wasn't exactly the answer he had been looking for, but he wasn't sure he could get out the question he really wanted to ask. Not and look Jesper in the face. Not that he doubted, exactly, but … a lifetime of not being good enough was hard to get past. "You said, before— Am I— Am I really your man?" The words came out in a rush.
Jesper's heart thudded in his chest. He had said that in the spur of the moment, not thinking about whether that might not be what Wylan wanted. "I suppose," he said slowly, "that's up to you."
He wanted that. Wanted it badly. But— Jesper had said he couldn't make any promises. Wasn't that a promise, to be called his? To belong to him? "I'm not chaotic," Wylan said, his eyes still firmly closed. "I'm not— I mean, you're …" He waved a hand in Jesper's general direction, gasping when Jesper caught the waving hand and kissed the fingers. "You're you, and I'm … I'm me." Now he did open his eyes, the force of the question undeniable. "What could you possibly see in me?"
The question struck Jesper hard. He thought of Wylan's hurt face when he made light of the reading, of the way he had immediately assumed Jesper was being patronizing when he expressed how amazed he was by Wylan's intelligence, his dedication to his work. He thought of the beautiful music Wylan had played on the piano and how it had taken his breath away … and how he wasn't sure he would ever breathe the same again. He had to be careful how he answered. Glibness was his stock in trade, but he couldn't be glib about this, not and expect Wylan to take him seriously.
"Do you know what I love about the Barrel?" he asked softly, still holding Wylan's hand in his.
"The chaos."
"But do you know why I love the chaos? Because it's … beautiful. It's unpredictable, and it's so varied you don't know if you'll ever see the end of it, and it can show you things you never expected to see."
Wylan's eyes were on him, dark and searching, and Jesper could feel him wondering what that had to do with him.
"I've only known you a short time, but I've already seen so many things I hadn't expected, and I was able to share them with you. And every time I talk to you I find out something new, and I don't know if I'll ever stop being astonished by what you know and what you've thought about, and I don't want to stop. And you're different from everyone I've ever known. You are—" He thought of the music again, closing his eyes at the memory. "You are every beautiful thing in the world." Jesper held Wylan's hand against his cheek, closing his eyes at the touch. "You are … poetry." He kissed Wylan's fingers. "And music." He kissed his lips. "And fine wine." He kissed the hollow of his throat. "And sculpture." He pushed up Wylan's shirt and kissed his stomach. "And …"
He stopped when he felt Wylan's hands on his shoulders, tugging him back up to kiss his mouth again. "Yours," Wylan said breathlessly.
"Mine." It was a growl, deep in his throat. His, all his, this exquisite man with his gentle soul and great intelligence and so much more strength than he gave himself credit for.
"Mine," Wylan echoed in a fierce joy, rolling them over.
They took their time now, whispering "mine" and "yours" and their names against each other's skin, kissing and caressing and building their longing until it crested and left them spent and sleepy in each other's arms.
Morning found them still deeply asleep, cuddled together in the tangle of bedclothes. A sharp rap at the door woke them abruptly, and Jesper groaned. "Go away, Kaz."
"Not Kaz," came Nina's cheerful voice. "This is your notice that in half an hour I'm bringing you both breakfast on a tray."
Wylan blinked sleepily at Jesper, who grinned in Nina's direction. "I could eat."
"Thought so. Also, you owe me for keeping Kaz off you for the last twenty hours."
"How long were we sleeping?" Wylan asked.
"Sleeping," Nina echoed, laughing. "Couldn't tell you that, but you've been in there for most of a day. Time to rise and shine. Also, Jesper, your tailor came by."
"Now you're talking." He liked the kilt, but there was only so long a person could wear one suit. He snuggled up, the silky ends of Wylan's hair tickling his cheek. "Wylan."
"Mm-hm?"
"Are you comfortable? I mean, is the mattress soft enough … or too soft? And the pillow—"
Wylan turned over in his arms, blinking at him in confusion. "This is much better than my bed in the workshop."
"Well, okay, but … is it comfortable? It's just that I have a vested interest in making this your favorite place in Ketterdam."
"Oh." Wylan blushed and hid his face, and Jesper tilted his chin up with one long finger to kiss him. "It's the warmest place in Ketterdam," Wylan observed when the kiss ended.
"And that's … good?" Jesper said hopefully.
"I've been cold ever since—for years. I'm not cold around you."
"I will add warmth to the extensive list of my charms immediately."
He was ridiculous. And adorable, Wylan thought, wrapping an arm around Jesper's neck to pull him in for another kiss.
Which almost turned into more, but Jesper sighed, nuzzling Wylan's neck. "Nina will break the door down if she has to."
"That would break the mood."
"Very much so." With a final kiss, Jesper reluctantly dragged himself out of bed.
By the time Nina came back with breakfast, they were both up and dressed, and they convinced her to stay and have breakfast with them, the three of them laughing and talking and throwing pieces of waffle at each other's mouths. To no one's surprise, Jesper was the best at catching them.
When Kaz, inevitably, rapped at the door, there was still enough food left they prevailed on him to stay and eat, as well. It would never be quite right without Inej, Jesper thought, but for the moment, they were home, and they were together, and that was what mattered.