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jazzythursday · 3 days

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WIP Wednesday Friday

I was tagged by @sunfl8wer and @sparrowmoth (at some point in... the last 2 weeks?) to share snippet of a wip. Here's a good chunk of a scene from the upcoming chapter of Heart Of The Country:

“You don’t have to let my da use you as a handyman, you know. We're here to have a break from working all the time.”

They’re upstairs, and Wylan is puzzling over something in the walls, chewing the skin around his thumb with a pensive crease to his brow. Jesper pushes a glass of water in front of him and Wylan accepts it gratefully. He downs it quickly, as if only realising how thirsty he’d been once he puts it to his lips. Jesper trades the now empty glass for a plate of cut fruit, which Wylan also accepts.

He’d learned fairly quickly that Wylan, genius as he may be, has all the self-preservation of a sliced apple—which is saying a lot, coming from Jesper.

He’s seen it enough times to know. Wylan will get too deep into a project or a piece of music or a new gadget for some scheme Kaz has cooking, and all forms of basic self-care go right out the window. He frequently forgets that his body requires things like food and water or sleep, like taking breaks. In cases like this, Jesper has picked up the habit of pulling him down for meals or bed or bringing him cups of tea or water and snacks because—whether it’s Dirtyhands himself, or a leaky roof, or the bloody Council of Tides—seeing his boyfriend collapse over a beaker or a half-built bomb is something he’d like to prevent.

“Thanks,” Wylan says, sparing a moment away from his work to bite into an orange slice. “And you don’t have to let him use you as a farm hand, either, if you want to argue about it.”

“Who’s arguing? Not me. I just thought you might like a handsome assistant.” That, and Jesper ran out of ways to entertain himself alone, but he doesn’t say that part out loud.

Wylan goes back to tinkering, squinting into the dim inner workings of the house. There’s a small lamp hanging overhead, and Jesper plucks it up and holds it closer.

“This isn’t about getting him to like you, is it? Because I already said—”

“It’s not that,” Wylan interjects. He holds his hand out and Jesper dutifully passes him a wrench. “Besides, I really don’t mind. This type of work… It’s nice. I like being able to help around here. I like feeling useful around here.”

Jesper squats down and rests his elbows on his knees, looking closer at the exposed wall Wylan is pouring over the contents of. “So, what’s the problem with all this then?”

tagging: @aphroditestummyrolls @heypax @stormkpr @nerdlingmerchling @sixofcrowdaydreams and whoever else would like to!

#wylan van eck #wesper #jesper fahey #six of crows #jazzy writes #shadow and bone #wesper fanfic #shadow and bone netflix

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diangelosdays · 1 year

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i may be a little obsessed with wesper

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anxiety-and-bullshit · 1 year

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Wylan: Jes and I got married!

Kaz: My condolences.

Jesper: You're the one that told me to propose!

Wylan: You were?

Kaz: And Wylan, I apologize deeply, I really do.

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copperiisulfate · 1 year

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I forget too often that Jesper is canonically Wylan’s sugar baby. Like. What. How does that work so well. Why isn’t Sugar Daddy Wylan Van Eck an ao3 tag. I have so many questions.

#soc #six of crows #sab #sab season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone show #soc wylan #wylan van eck #jesper soc #jesper fahey #wesper #wesper fanfic #soc fanfic #it's mind boggling #ao3

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ticklishraspberries · 1 year

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Sunshine (Jesper/Wylan)

Summary: Jesper has a dumb nickname for Wylan. Wylan insults Jesper’s nicknaming skills. Jesper can not stand for such an injustice. Fluff ensues. (Based on an anonymous prompt. I haven’t read the Six of Crows book, only watched the Netflix show, so I hope I got their characterizations right. I actually went and read the scene where Jesper calls him “Wylan Van Sunshine” in the books so I could understand the context. Hope y’all enjoy!!)

The nickname had begun as a joke, a dig at Wylan’s habit of expressing the negative consequences of their plans, but ever since its first utterance, Jesper finds he can’t stop saying it.

Thus, his boyfriend is oh-so-fondly dubbed as “Wylan Van Sunshine” and it makes that said boyfriend blush each time.

“I don’t know why you call me that,” Wylan grumbles, carefully placing chemicals back in their proper place before turning to face Jesper, something like a pout on his face.

“Because you are my sunshine,” Jesper replies. “The light of my life, always keeping me happy and warm…You know, all that cheesy nonsense.”

Wylan’s blush doesn’t disappear, but the answer seems to soften his features. “You’re a sap.”

“Only for you,” Jesper says, reaching out for his boyfriend, and Wylan steps forward to allow himself to be pulled into a tight hug, Jesper’s lips pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Wylan sighs, content. “I suppose it’s one of your better nicknames. You’ve come up with some quite horrendous ones in the past.”

Jesper lets out a gasp of mock offense. “How dare you! I’m great at nicknames.”

Wylan looks up at him with a look that just screams ‘seriously?’ and Jesper pouts. The position that they’re wrapped up in makes it easy for him to maneuver them back onto the bed in the corner of Wylan’s workspace.

“And what’s so wrong with my verbal expressions of love, hm?” he asks, holding both of Wylan’s hands and slowly maneuvering them upward, wrists pinned above his head.

Despite the vulnerable position, Wylan only looks mildly nervous, a touch more jittery than he usually is, and his lips are curling into a smile that he’s trying to bite back. “You say some of the sappiest, most ridiculous things,” he replies. “I love it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make fun of you for it.”

Jesper can’t keep up the act of offense, and breaks into a smile of his own. “And that means that I can still punish you for being cheeky, sunshine.”

Wylan’s mouth opens to argue or barter, but all that comes out is a squeal of laughter as Jesper’s fingers dig into his side.

“Wait, wait—”

“Wait for what? Because I’m not hearing an apology.”

Wylan is giggling too hard to give some sort of witty reply, and he certainly isn’t going to apologize, and so he just squirms in his partner’s hold and laughs, a high-pitched and

Jesper grins like a madman, all devious eyes and flashing white teeth, as his fingers crawl from Wylan’s right side and over to his belly, sliding beneath the loose sleep shirt (one he’d stolen from Jesper) and scribbling against pale skin,

The laughter only grows, as Wylan’s stomach has always been a weak spot, and his wriggling grows more desperate. “Jesper, please!”

“Please what, darling?”

“Stop it!”

“But your laugh is just so sweet,” Jesper coos in his ear. “I just can’t get enough of it, sunshine.”

Wylan splutters in embarrassment, clearly wanting to argue with the claim but laughing too hard to form a coherent sentence. They stay like that for a few moments longer, Jesper’s fingers dancing across Wylan’s skin, both of them giggling like mischievous children, until there is a loud thump! from above their heads.

It’s followed by two more rapid bangs: Kaz’s cane, signaling for them to shut up. They look at each other with equal parts mortification and amusement. The giggles don’t stop quite yet, but the tickling has ceased.

“He’s going to kill us one of these days,” Wylan rasps.

“Oh, Kaz? Nah, he’s all talk,” Jesper replies. “He loves us under all that grumpiness.”

Wylan looks at him as if to say, ‘you’re joking, right?’

It makes Jesper snort and snuggle close, pressing his lips to Wylan’s temple. “You’ll start to feel it eventually. He’s quite fond of you. I mean, how could he not be? Look at this sweet face!”

He pinches at the other’s blushing cheek, and Wylan bats him away with a fond roll of his eyes.

“Let’s just go to bed before we piss him off any further. Or else he’ll make you even older on the next passport.”

Jesper chuckles but is already tucking himself beneath the blanket, tossing it over Wylan’s legs and snuggling closer to him.

“Goodnight, sunshine,” he mutters. “Goodnight, sap.”

It seems as though that nickname is here to stay, and Wylan isn’t going to complain.

#wesper #wesper fluff #wesper fic #wesper fanfic #jesper x wylan #wylan x jesper #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #grishaverse fic #six of crows #six of crows fic #six of crows tickling #six of crows tickle #raspberry writes

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millaniumcat · 1 year

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I need a post Crooked Kingdom fanfic in which Jesper and Wylan thrive together in the mansion, and on a set day in the week, they sit in the office together and Jesper reads every new paper to Wylan, like stock market papers, letter etc.

Then, one day, they have a big fight. Something about jesper still gambling, both being very insecure, not talking about it, you know it. Just, a really big, ugly fight. Tempers rise, they shout at each other, say some hurtful stuff without meaning to. It's a misunderstanding, misscommunication, but a fight nonetheless.

Jesper storms out of the mansion, and is gone for days. Wylan is worried sick, he searches for him, can't find him. He is sure Jesper left him for good, that their relationship is over, beyond repair, that jesper finally had had enough of him

Jesper is somewhere drinking, horrified of what happened, maybe gambling, very miserable.

When he can't find him, wylan goes back to the mansion, and is devestated. He believes he's lost everything, that he screwed up, that jesper left him.

The evening arrives when jesper and Wylan were supposed to sit in the office together, doing paperwork, Jesper reading to Wylan and Wylan dictating what he should write.

And Wylan is in his office alone, crying, breaking down over letters and stock market papers that he can't read, the words just escape him, don't make sense, and he is freaking out, ugly crying, full on panic mode.

Then, slowly, the door opens, and Jesper comes in, and he's clearly been crying as well, but he comes in, sees wylan, and Wylan looks at him, like he can't believe that jesper is back, that he came back to him

And Jesper just shrugs and says "I said I would read to you."

They still need to talk about the fight. They still need to talk about stuff, and it's gonna be messy, but they are gonna be okay. They hug and kiss and they won't let go of each other.

Jesper said he would read to Wylan, and read he will.

I have never written fanfiction and I am afraid of it, but if anyone wants to write this, please do.

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torisfolklera · 2 months

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whatever you're doing don't imagine a sad kinda angsty wesper fic inspired by Alley Rose by Conan Gray. just don't.

#six of crows #soc #shadow and bone #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #wesper #wesper fanfic #conan gray #alley rose #found heaven

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wesperbrekkered · 4 months

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Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! And what a better way to celebrate then a 5+1 wesper coffeeshop au that takes place over Christmas!

5 Times Jesper failed at asking Wylan out and 1 Time Wylan succeeded

This is a @grishaversesecretsanta gift for @bod-yn-draed-moch , merry Christmas and I hope you enjoy!

#jesper fahey #wesper fanfic #wesper #writing prompts #crooked kingdom #six of crows #grishaversesecretsanta2023 #jesper fahey fanfiction #wylan van eck fanfiction

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violets-and-books · 2 months

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A Barrel Rat's Guide to Being a Mercher

A wesper fake-dating fic about skirting scandal and falling in love, with a healthy dose of sexual tension and pining

Read here

Aesthetic made by the incredible @thrxughthenxght

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #six of crows jesper #six of crows wylan #wesper #jesper x wylan #wylan x jesper #wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #jesper fahey #wesper fanfiction #wesper fanfic #soc fanfic #soc jesper #soc wylan #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

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kazbrekkerfast · 1 year

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has anyone written a tangled wesper au becuase I friend just showed me a post about it and I have gone feral

like wylan is so tangled coded he can do music and sing and draw and is locked away by a gaslighting ass bitch and just wants to leave and escape his tower and then this hot flirty thief arrives and helps him escape they are literally perfect omg

#please writers i am begging you #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #i have no writing skills and it makes me so sad #and if it exists WHERE CAN I FIND IT OMG #im going feral help #also milo = maximus ???#and instead of the long hair healing his music heals #idk i'm rambling #im literally sobbing omg #fanfiction #wesper fanfic #it should be anyways

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jazzythursday · 11 months

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Wylan leaves in the morning.

He doesn’t plan to, not exactly, but he definitely doesn’t plan on staying, either.

Wylan is no stranger to one night stands. He can’t say he gets around very frequently, but enough to know the general plot of how they're supposed to go.

Flirt, drink, fuck, leave. The order isn’t necessarily set in stone, but the list ends the same every time.

He has a good time, for the most part, and it’s always a welcome break from the awful chemical smell burned into the Tannery or the staleness of the empty rooms in cheap boarding houses (when he can afford them) that Wylan is used to. Wylan likes the freedom that comes with it, too. It’s liberating to go where he wants and do what he pleases; to not worry about who he’s seen with or sleeps with or what they might think of him after. And he likes feeling wanted, for a little while. He likes being reminded that he exists.

So Wylan does not make a habit of falling asleep with the people who take him to bed.

He doesn’t even remember falling asleep, really.

He doesn't remember, and yet, Wylan wakes up with his head pillowed on Jesper’s chest. With Jesper’s arm draped over him. His breath is warm where it ghosts over the top of his hair, and if Wylan glances up he can see the way Jesper’s mouth— those lips— fall open in sleep.

It’s the best morning he’s had in months, possibly. Certainly the most comfortable.

He knows it can’t last.

Wylan looks at Jesper, still sleeping peacefully next to him, and he panics.

He’d woken up in Jesper Fahey’s arms.

He’d slept with Jesper Fahey.

Jesper has a reputation, and Wylan knows it, even new to the Barrel as he is. He’d heard about Dirtyhand’s second and resident sharpshooter plenty— Can’t resist a gamble, never misses a shot, and not just with bullets. Jesper Fahey is an excellent marksman, they say, with terrible luck with the cards, and a soft spot for pretty girls and even prettier boys.

Jesper’s played the field— multiple fields— went on a seismic world tour of fields.

Wylan is very good at not being noticed. He’s also very good at listening. People tend to look past him, they never pay any mind to the too skinny boy with the wild hair and the hunched shoulders and the grime that never seems to wash off completely after his long shifts at the Tannery. Wylan knows this, knows he’s very adept at being able to disappear, when he needs to.

So by the time Wylan actually meets Jesper, he’s well aware of his place in Ketterdam’s booming rumor mill. Jesper has many, and Wylan thinks by now he may have heard them all.

And yet, none of them do a thing to prepare him for Jesper.

They’d met in a tavern.

Wylan had been nursing his drink for the better half of an hour, trying to come up with reasons not to go back to the sad cot he had waiting for him in a rented room, with the only window overlooking the brick wall of a dark alley.

So far, he’d only come up with the one.

Wylan had seen the tall Zemeni man from across the room and hadn’t stopped looking since. He was flirting with a girl at the bar, twirling one of his guns in one hand demonstratively with a drink in the other. The girl— a curly haired blond— was giggling, hand pressed to her mouth with eyes that had very clear and direct intentions.

Wylan had almost resolved himself to a night of wasting the few kruge at his disposal with little to show for it, when the man had looked up and caught him staring. The man had smiled, twirling his gun with an extra flourish and then tipped his hat. Wylan smiled back, and gave a little wave. Embarrassing, He’d thought, stop it, he’s already with someone else anyway. He’d looked down, and stared at the near empty contents of his drink until someone sat down next to him and said, in a voice like apple butter and sweet syrup, “Can I get you another of those?”

Then Wylan had looked up into the eyes of the handsomest man he’d ever seen, and thought, he has the most perfect lips.

Out loud, he’d said, “I, uh, well—” His mouth was wide open, he’d realised, and shut it quickly. Again, the man had smiled. Again, Wylan had smiled back. “Yes, please.”

And that's how he’d met Jesper.

Afterwards, they’d stumbled through the streets— I know a place, Jesper said, If you want to take this somewhere more private— until they’d passed a corner where a vendor was selling traditional Kerch sweets out of a cart.

“Stroopwafels!” Jesper had stopped. “I love stroopwafels!”

Wylan was tugging him toward the cart without really making a conscious decision to move, and Jesper had laughed, surprised and delighted.

Wylan bought them both stroopwafels and handed Jesper his with a shy smile and a shrug. “For the drink.”

Jesper looked at him consideringly, head caulked to the side, and Wylan felt himself blushing in the low light of the lamps. “You’re sweet,” he’d said eventually.

“Is that bad?” Wylan had asked, sheepish. Jesper was already shaking his head.

“It’s good. Just not that many sweet things to be had in the Barrel. It’s refreshing.” He’d bit off a piece of one of the waffles and smiled. “These are sweet too,”— he’d leaned in, smile still earnest but with something decidedly different underneath— “I like sweet.”

Jesper had not touched him like he’d been expecting to be touched. Jesper made no assumptions; he’d asked, about everything, in a way that was near gentlemanly if it wasn’t for the fact that he radiated trouble through his pores. Jesper was— not quite gentle, because Wylan had expected hot and heady and everything deep, and Jesper was all of that and more— but he wasn’t rough. He didn’t bruise, not if Wylan didn’t say yes first, and afterwards he’d laid back down and settled Wylan into his arms in a way that he had no real way of protesting— didn’t want to protest, anyway— and kissed him.

It was that that had scared Wylan the most, he thinks. Because Wylan is rarely kissed for the express purpose of it. It was always the promise of more— the rush of what was to come. But people do not generally tend to kiss Wylan for the sake of kissing Wylan. It’s different. Jesper is different, and Wylan can’t afford to be stupid enough to do something like get attached. Can’t afford much at all— really.

But Jesper had kissed him, pleased and lazy and warm, and at some indeterminate time later they had both apparently fallen asleep.

And it was nice.

It was too nice. It hurt with how nice it was.

Wylan peels himself slowly out of Jesper’s arms, careful not to wake him, and decides then that he cannot stand to be here any longer.

Jesper Fahey is not what he’d expected, he’s better.

Jesper Fahey is lovely, and beautiful, and kinder to him than anyone has been to Wylan for almost as long as he can remember.

Jesper Fahey is more than he could have ever hoped for, and he isn’t going to stick around for someone like Wylan.

So Wylan leaves, and he doesn’t look behind him as he closes the door.

#wesper #inspired by the tweet about what kit said about their first meeitng #wesper drabble #wesper ficlet #wesper fanfic #wylan hendriks #wylan van eck #jesper fehey #shadow and bone #six of crows #shadow and bone fanfiction #Jazzy writes #jazzy writes fanfic #a drabble for your troubles?

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diangelosdays · 1 year

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more wesper♡

#wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #six of crows #soc #shadow and bone #more of my silly little wesper brain rot #fanart #soc fanart #wesper fanart #sab #jack wolfe #kit young #wylan van sunshine #jesper x wylan #sab netflix #art #wesper fanfic #grishaverse

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sprnklersplashes · 1 year

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five times jesper woke up beside wylan (ao3)

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Jesper never thought he’d miss his room in the Slat. But then, he never thought he’d be breaking into the Ice Court either, so what would he know?

Their cabin on the Ferolind doesn't allow much for privacy or space, four slim bunks packed into what felt more like a large cupboard than a room. He’d made jibes at Matthias earlier, mentioning slyly that this must be an upgrade for him. Now though, he wishes he shared the Fjerdan’s experiences of and love for camaraderie. Maybe if he did, the urge to tear a hole in the ship’s interior and dive right out of there would be a little quieter.

He’s the only one awake at this hour, in the cabin anyway. If Kaz is asleep, he isn’t here. The sheets on his bunk are as pristine as a museum display. Jesper isn’t surprised; why would Kaz let him see him be human? But the others are here, spread around the cabin, taking advantage of what could be their last good sleep for days.

And when Jesper turns away from the wall, he finds that out of all the bunks in this vast cabin, the merchling just happened to take the one next to him. Typical.

Okay, so he’s not exactly “next to him”. The cabin might be tinier than tiny, but there’s still some space between the two. But he’s still the first thing he properly sees when his eyes adjust to the darkness, and for some reason, he’s all they want to see.

He understood at first. Wylan’s a pretty boy with a pretty face and Jesper is only human. A human with a (possibly) short life and a few reckless tendencies. Why shouldn’t he let his eyes linger on red curls and sweet face and blue eyes?

But now they’re five days into this great voyage to Fjerda, and the feelings that had prickled his skin when Wylan first joined are starting to press on him. And it’s his Achilles heel that he cares about anything, let alone about Kaz and his decisions that no one could ever understand, but here he is.

Wylan Van Eck. He plays the words over in his head and then they overlap with another name, the name Wylan had given him when they met in the tannery. Wylan Hendricks. He lets out a short, bitter breath and scratches the sheets, keeping his eyes on him. The more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. The name Van Eck suits him, if only because it carries more gradneur than Hendricks does.

He turns to the wall and tries not to think about how Wylan looks even more like a prince when he’s asleep.

When he bursts awake that fifth night in Fjerda, Jesper suspects he’d had about two hours in total. Maybe less, because he’s not sure that brief dream he’d had was a dream at all. Not for the first time, he asks himself what the hell he’s doing here, sleeping beneath a haphazard shelter, on his way to breaking into the most high-security prison there is. The voice asking him sounds a little too much like his father and a voice that sounds like his own replies, three million kruge.

It helps, admittedly, with the sense of dread growing in his stomach. Not with anything else, but he’ll take what he can get.

A small cry to his left pulls him out of his thoughts. His hand is on his pistol in less than a second, but his thoughts catch up to him before he can cock it. He’s come to know that voice, the same voice that’s spent the past nine days trying not to pick arguments with Kaz and defending the honour of his precious flute.

He’s not the only crow who can’t sleep.

Wylan’s eyes find him, his long lashes dusted with snow. His hands are curled around the front of his jacket and his knees are drawn up to his chest. Jesper almost laughs at the sight. Not out of cruelty (entirely) but because this here is the most out-of-place this kid has ever looked

“Too cold for you merchling?” he asks, keeping his voice low enough not to wake the others, but just loud enough to rise above the wind. Wylan’s face hardens at the suggestion. It’s like black ice growing over a daisy.

“I’m fine,” he replies through gritted teeth, in a voice that scratches and cracks on the second syllable. He pulls his coat tighter around himself, stopping just shy of burrowing into it. Jesper tuts under his breath, unsure what to make of it. He always thought life or death situations were a time to leave your shame at the door, or in their case, on the Fifth Harbour docks. But the little merchling is going in the opposite route, huffing and puffing until he can prove he’s one of the big boys. It’s too bad all that puffing can’t keep him warm, otherwise, Jesper might be tempted to move a little closer.

(Shit, why did his thoughts have to go there?)

They lie in silence, neither acknowledging the other’s existence, while the wind whistles around them. Jesper presses his tongue against his teeth and his arms into his abdomen to ward off the shivering. He sneaks a glance out of the corner of his eye, then another, then another. Soon, that one idea grows louder, amplified by his shaking body, and Jesper can only give it an exasperated ‘fine’ in response.

As he said, leave your shame at the docks.

“Come here, merchling.”

“What?” He lifts his head slightly. “What for?”

Jesper makes a show of rolling his eyes this time.

“You’re the scientist,” he tells him. “And I’m sure at least one of your private tutors explained the concept of body heat to you.”

“That’s biology,” he says, somewhat indignantly. “I prefer chemistry.”

“And I would prefer a brandy in one hand and a royal flush in the other,” he sighs. He shuffles over a little and gestures to the piece of land beside him. “It’s fine. We do it all the time in Ketterdam.”

“You do?” He grins then, his dimples denoting everything but innocence, and Jesper curses himself. Then the eyebrows raise, and he curses Wylan instead. “Who’ve you done it with?”

“Shut up.”

“Not Kaz, surely.”

“Oh, you little-”

“Is Inej a good cuddler?”

“I will kill you,” Jesper promises. “And I will make it look like an accident.” Despite his threat, there’s something about watching him laugh. It’s almost like a respite; watching his eyes crinkle, hearing the soft laughter from behind his hand. He lets his head fall back, looks up at the sky and hopes Wylan can’t see the grin cutting across his face.

The laughter to his side dies down, and then there’s nothing. He’s about to assume that Wylan isn’t taking him up on his offer, and is about to be glad of it when he hears the shuffling across the snow. In seconds, there’s red hair tickling his shoulder and a murmured “sorry” when an elbow digs into his back. He lies there, wondering if it’s Wylan’s body heat or his own thumping heart that’s pushing back the cold.

Regardless, it’s only proper that he returns the favour. So he turns on his side and motions for the merchling to come a little closer. He does so, and Jesper tries not to gasp as Wylan’s cold fingers brush against his chest. The sensation is gone quickly, and after some deliberating, he wraps his trembling arms around Wylan’s waist. If it bothers him at all, Wylan doesn’t say anything, instead burrowing closer to Jesper in a way that almost makes him regret ever suggesting it.

(Key word, almost)

He lets himself warm up before he whispers a quiet “Don’t get used to this”.

“Course not,” Wylan replies, sleep tugging on his voice. “Wouldn’t want to make Kaz jealous.”

“You little-”

Wylan’s asleep before he finishes the threat.

Lesson number whatever learned since the Ice Court heist started; mausoleums are really hard to sleep in.

Jesper wakes once again with a crick in his neck and aches in his elbows, the price of trying to find some sort of comfort amongst the stone tombs. He pulls himself into a sitting position to stretch out his back and scowls at the scrapes on his hands. They’ve seen worse, sure, but eventually, you get tired of waking up with new scratches over your hands because you’re sleeping on stone. The Slat was barely a home, but at least it kept him in one piece.

He sets his hand on the ground, only for it to brush against another. He looks down and finds a figure asleep next to him, someone with dark hair and bronze skin. There are two possibilities, but it only takes him a second to work out which one.

It’s Wylan. Jesper knows, and he’d know even if he hadn’t seen Kuwei settling himself on the other side of the crypt last night. He knows because he’s spent over a month waking up beside him or near him or in the same room as him. He knows because he knows that Wylan often sleeps with his mouth open a little and with his knees pulled towards his chest. He knows because he’s become attuned to the soft murmurs Wylan does in his sleep. He knows because he’s seen Wylan sleeping with his hand outstretched and slightly curled inward and because he recognises the tension in his shoulders like he’s bracing himself.

Releasing a slow breath, he lowers himself back to the ground, tucking one arm under his head. Wylan’s hair falls over his eyes then, and Jesper’s free hand twitches. He bites his tongue and taps his frantic fingers against the ground. Usually, this kind of low-level buzzing in his blood would send him reaching for his revolvers and a target, but not this time. This time is different, and he suspects no amount of shooting would quiet the desire he feels now to run his hand through Wylan’s hair.

The problem is, like a lot of things, he doesn’t know if he’d stop there. What if he chanced running his finger along his cheekbone, or try pulling the blanket tighter around him? His throat tightens, because what if Wylan woke up then? What if he pushed him away, or worse? What if he let him keep going?

For once, it’s a risk he doesn’t want to take, so Jesper turns away from his tailored merchling and counts the bricks in the wall until he falls asleep again.

And no one needs to know if he dreams about his hand in a tangle of red curls, no one needs to know.

Of all the places he’s slept since this started, the hotel is the most comfortable. It also just happens that right now is when sleep can’t find him at all. If there is a Sandman or anything like that, it’s chased away by the crackling wires that have replaced Jesper’s veins, scared off by the constant sparks shooting around his mind.

He’s sitting on the couch in the hotel, right beside the window. He thought he’d give it a go, seeing as this gazing-out-at-the-horizon shit seems to work for Inej, but he’s been at it for half an hour now and if anything, it’s gotten worse. His thoughts have run in a circular train of Pa, Kuwei, the auction and all the ways it could go wrong and the fact that Wylan Van Eck fucking kissed him.

It doesn’t help that one of those thoughts is asleep next to him, kneeling beside the couch and using his arms as a pillow. His first thought is that Wylan’s back is going to hurt something awful in a few hours. His second is a marvel at how quickly the merchling has adapted to the life of a Barrel thug. Should they survive, he might end up making a name for himself.

He turns himself to face Wylan instead of the window, matching his breathing to the rise and fall of his chest. As he watches, his thoughts drift back through the hours, until his fingertips graze his lips. He can still taste Wylan’s lips and can remember the way his neck moved beneath his hand. Something changed for him at that moment, an abandoned cog inside him finally turning. It’s a little bit terrifying, to have something new circulating his body; something that’s not Grisha and not Dreg. Something else, something new that tilts his life in a new direction.

Without thinking, he reaches out and pushes Wylan’s hair away from his face. Wylan’s face scrunches up at his touch, a soft moan escaping him. Jesper finds himself making quiet shushing noises before pulling his hand away. Wylan shifts, searching for the lost source of comfort and presses himself further into the couch. Jesper stretches himself out on the couch, his fingertips just inches from Wylan’s hair.

It’s not the sleeping arrangement he wanted, but under the circumstances, he’ll take it.

Of all the ways he’s woken up in his life, Jesper feels he may have found a new favourite. Sleep slowly ebbs away as the morning pulls him up, pushing him to get on with his day. It’s helped along, of course, by feather light kisses on his neck, sending a soft tingling sensation throughout his body. He makes a show of groaning and pressing his face into the pillow, pretending his heart doesn’t pick up at each kiss, before he finally turns around. Wylan sits propped up on one elbow, his pyjama shirt slipping away to reveal his collarbone. He grins at him, equal parts sweet and devious. Like he’d blush at the thought of doing everything they did last night, only to do it again tonight.

“Morning,” Wylan whispers, dimples indenting his cheeks as he smiles. Jesper laughs, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside him. He laughs, because this is his life now and he’s still alive to have it and because Wylan’s morning hair is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. His usual tangled curls resemble a bird’s nest atop his head, sticking up in all directions and falling in front of his face. Jesper pushes himself up with one hand and fixes Wylan’s hair with the other, smoothing it down and pushing it out of his eyes. He pauses then for a moment and cups his cheek. He smiles at him and pulls him in for a quick kiss, eliciting a surprised, pleased squeak from Wylan. He tastes like early morning and not having brushed his teeth and it makes Jesper fall that little bit harder.

“Good morning, he whispers back before pulling him in for a second kiss. Wylan’s weak protests turn into a giggle as they fall back against the pillows, legs tangling in each other, fingers linking beneath the sheets.

He gets up far later than used to, but he’s still in time to kiss Wylan’s bare shoulder s he makes breakfast, so he can’t complain.

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #wesper #wesper fanfic #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #six rewrites lets gooooooo #jesper x wylan #wylan x jesper

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