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It starts, like many questionable ideas do, with alcohol.
Kaz isn’t sure when he ended up on the floor. He’s slumped against Wylan’s couch, eyes closed and head tipped back, his legs splayed across the expensive rug beneath him, and there are voices floating around somewhere above his head. Cheerful voices, comfortable voices. He lost track of the conversation a little while again, around the same time his thoughts started turning soupy and vague. That’s okay, though. He doesn’t need to be part of the conversation. The voices feel safe, and he’s content to just listen.
On the couch behind him, Inej has her knees drawn up to her chest, her toes at the edge of the couch cushion so they press into his shoulder blades; it’s a constant reminder of her presence, a gentle touch to tell him she’s there, she’s real, and she’s not going away. Not for a little while yet. He is keen to her presence like a hound reunited with his owner. Inej, his wine-happy brain keeps repeating. Inej, back from sea, and with Nina and Matthias in tow.
And now they’ve all congregated in the Van Eck mansion, and there isn’t a sober thought to be shared between them.
Above him, the voices start taking shape again and Kaz wishes he could just tune out again when he realises the degenerates he admits are friends have initiated a game of ranking the members of the Merchant Council, of all things.
“Radmakker isn’t so bad,” Nina is saying, sounding gleeful in her bad intentions. On the settee with Matthias at her side, she has one hand wrapped around a glass stem and the other on her man’s thigh.
From his position on the floor near Kaz, Jesper groans theatrically. “He’s old enough to be my da,” he protests.
“Yeah, but your dad doesn’t tailor his pants like Radmakker does,” Nina says wickedly, and above Kaz, Inej breaks into a fit of giggles while Jesper wretches.
“Can’t help but notice no one has put me up there,” Wylan says, dry as dust.
Kaz feels the air near his cheek move, which he assumes is Jesper waving his hand. “You’re simply too gorgeous to be part of the ranking,” he says to general noises of agreement.
“And if we included you then we would have to include Jesper as well, since he assists you,” Matthias adds, ever the voice of fairness.
Kaz, never the voice of fairness, chimes in, “Jesper would just embarrass the competition.”
In his intoxication, it takes a moment to realise the conversation has come to a skidding stop.
He blinks his eyes open and waits for the candles to stop looking like glittering stars as they come back into focus. Every eye in the room is turned on him. Nina is holding her glass of wine aloft in her hand, like she’d been about to take a sip before she’d been surprised into stillness. Curled in the armchair above Jesper, Wylan’s mouth is open a little.
Matthias leans towards Nina and says in a voice which is probably supposed to be a whisper but which carries nonetheless, “Did he just…”
“I think he did,” Nina says.
Kaz feels his shoulders go tense. He’s not quite sure what he said wrong this time, but it’s clear he’s stepped into a social faux pas of the likes he’s been working to avoid in the years since the Ice Court. His hand reaches for his cane resting against the couch next to him and his eyes flick to the exits as he starts assessing how quickly he can get out; a habit long learned from the Barrel and never broken.
“Kaz,” says Jesper, interrupting his beginnings of agitation. He leans forward so his arms hang over his knees, long legs stretching against Wylan’s expensive living room rug. “Did you just call me hot?”
Kaz isn’t used to his own brain moving so slow, like every thought is dragged through thick oil. He hears Jesper’s words, but he knows he’s missing implications, he can tell by the quickfire glance Wylan exchanges with Inej over his head. It makes him feel stupid and he hates feeling stupid. He scowls as he replies, “You know full well what you look like, Jesper.”
“Well, sure,” Jesper says with a shrug, and the way he’s looking at Kaz is odd and speculative, and utterly mystifying to Kaz. He takes his time running his eyes over Kaz, head to toe. “But I didn’t think Kaz Brekker did.”
They’re all still looking at him and Kaz is feeling increasingly off balance, like he’s stepped onto a frozen lake only to find the ice below his feet is nowhere near as solid as he believed. “Of course I do, Jes,” he says, which doesn’t sound anywhere near as acerbic as he was aiming for. “It was your mission to make the whole Barrel want you.”
The topic should die there. But the wine has loosened all of their tongues and it takes their hands and leads them in exactly the wrong direction.
So instead of allowing the words to settle untouched, Wylan suddenly says, “Did you?” When Kaz looks at him, there is something intent about his expression. Kaz might even call it predatory. And when Kaz doesn’t respond, Wylan pushes, saying slowly and clearly, “Want him?”
There’s heat in Kaz’s cheeks which has nothing to do with the wine. He may have spent his teenage years negotiating complex parleys, but the night has taken a sharp turn into unfamiliar territory, and he has no idea what to do right now. Never mind stepping onto a frozen lake; his foot has gone right through the ice sheet and sent him sprawling flat on his face.
He knows, in this moment, that he should lie. Unfortunately, his mouth has other ideas. So he replies, “I did say the whole Barrel.”
Wylan sits back in his chair. Nina’s mouth drops open further and she says, “Holy shit.” Jesper is just staring at him, something complicated and unreadable passing across his features. At Kaz’s back, Inej is still and silent.
He’s only speaking an objective truth and he’s not sure why it seems to matter so much. Jesper is beautiful just like most Grisha are. He has smooth skin and a bright smile and captivating eyes, and that’s not to mention his ability to flirt even the most stoic bartenders under the table. Everyone in the Barrel did want him, and a good portion of the University District on top of that. Kaz would be a liar to omit himself from that demographic.
Besides, he spent most of his teenage years ruthlessly suppressing any inkling of attraction he felt for fear of the consequences only he knew. He’d known Jesper was striking from the day he met him; he’d just had no capacity to dwell on it. And where there was room, there was Inej. So. It’s only been in recent years that anything resembling general attraction had reintroduced itself to his body, like a memory reawakened.
And even then, it isn’t strange. It’s a law of the universe that some people simply are beautiful. Everyone finds Jesper attractive. The sun rises every morning; Jesper is beautiful. Why are they acting like Kaz is the odd one for this?
But when he voices the thought, Nina shakes her head immediately. “Not me,” she denies. “I like my men with a little more meat. No offence, love,” she adds to Jesper, who shrugs benevolently while Matthias’ face splits in a goofy grin.
There’s something calculating in the way Wylan is staring at Kaz which makes him nervous. He can’t help but feel that Wylan is seeing layers he’d rather remain hidden, that he’s about to dismantle Kaz, clinical in his assessment like Kaz is one of his bombs. Part of Kaz wants him to do it. He says, “Do you still want him?”
Kaz blinks. He says, “What?”
“Do you still want him?” Wylan repeats. His eyes drop to the top of Jesper’s dark head. “You could have him, if you wanted.”
Kaz’s belly swoops as something heavy and hot alights behind his abdomen. He knows his face is showing too much; he can feel the way his mouth has opened a little, his jaw gone slack in shock. Want him, Wylan said.
Jesper is sputtering, twisting to stare up at Wylan in indignation. “What am I, your pet doll?” he protests.
“Oh, hush,” Wylan dismisses him. “Three years ago you would have tripped over yourself for this chance.” The look he directs at Jesper is just as calculating as the way he’d stared at Kaz, but there’s a level of knowing there, and somehow Kaz knows without knowing that he’s thought about this before. It’s not really a question when he asks Jesper, “Do you still want him?”
That molten heat below his belly intensifies. Kaz finds that he’s very invested in knowing the answer. The room is still spinning a little.
Instead of answering the question, Jesper responds slowly and suspiciously, “When Kuwei was here I got the impression you didn’t like to share.”
“Kaz isn’t Kuwei,” Wylan says, like it’s that simple. His eyes have turned dark. Jesper just stares up at him, like he isn’t sure he’s hearing correctly. Wylan takes two fingers and places them under Jesper’s chin, turning his head so he’s looking across at Kaz. He says, “Do you want him, Jes?”
Jesper stares across at Kaz, the two of them on the floor, their friends above them. There’s a tinge of red colouring his dark cheeks, an uncommon sign of self consciousness. He seems as taken aback by the proceedings as Kaz. Put on the spot, unsure what to do, he doesn’t say anything at all. Kaz can feel his own heartbeat in his neck. It’s very quiet.
“It’s okay if you do,” Wylan says, sounding so sweetly sincere for a moment suspended in tension. “You could have him. Just a kiss, if you want.”
Jesper swallows hard enough that Kaz can see the way his larynx bobs beneath the soft skin of his throat. “I - “ he says hoarsely. “Yeah. Yeah.”
He’s up on his knees and scrambling towards Kaz in the next moment, almost toppling his glass in his haste, and he’s halfway over the rug before a low, calm voice says, “Kaz hasn’t said yes yet.”
Inej. It’s the first thing she’s said since the night twisted on its head and Kaz is almost afraid to look at her and see what she’s thinking. Her tone, when she’d spoken, had been cool and unreadable. When he turns his head up to her, she’s already looking down at him and her body is poised and still, her face impassive. He can’t gauge the meaning of her expression, can’t tell if she’s feeling possessive or unhappy or nothing at all.
Jesper curses and apologises, and he’s begun speaking too fast, the way he sounds when he gets excitable, like his mouth can no longer keep up with the speed of his brain. Inej’s eyes flick away from Kaz so she can look at him when she says, amusement infused through her voice, “Stop talking, Jesper.”
“Right,” Jesper says immediately, and shuts up.
Her dark eyes turn back to him and like so often before, he finds himself lost in them. She strokes a calloused palm down his cheek, and her fingers trail over his jaw, blessed cool water along his flushed skin. She waits for him to speak, lets him take his time, and her expression has softened into something fond and knowing.
It’s almost like she knows what he wants before he does. Even now, it takes time for his brain to find the words, even longer for his mouth to cooperate. There’s a red haze dulling his brain, but he still knows they’re doing something irreversible here. There’s danger in that. Fear. But Inej’s expression is settled. Jesper’s bubbly bursts of speech behind him is familiar and comforting. The heat in his belly won’t be ignored. He still can’t find the words, so he just nods instead.
Something satisfied flashes in those dark eyes of hers. “Okay,” she tells him.
Inej holds out her hand to Jesper. Jesper shuffles forward on his knees so he’s right there, close enough Kaz can feel his body heat, can sense his anticipatory shivers. Kaz feels a little shaky himself. Inej runs her hand over Kaz’s bicep and he knows this part, has done it with her a million times, so he raises his hand and lets her take his wrist. She draws Kaz’s hand to Jesper’s wrist and wraps his long fingers over the bones there, middle finger to thumb, so Kaz’s thumb rests directly over Jesper’s pulse and he can feel his racing heartbeat.
And then she withdraws and settles back against the couch to watch as her partner kisses another man, and it’s just Kaz and Jesper. Kaz and Jesper, the pulse in Jesper’s wrist, the way Jesper is staring at Kaz like he plans to eat him alive. Everything else has receded into the background.
“The amount of times I dreamed about this,” Jesper mutters. His eyes flick from Kaz’s eyes to his lips and back again.
“Why are you still talking?” Kaz replies, and Jesper leans in and kisses him.
Jesper kisses eager, like everything else about him. His mouth is hot against Kaz’s own, and in the first moments all Kaz can do is let him take what he wants. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t start soft and sweet and deep like Inej might, nothing like what Kaz is used to. Jesper is exploratory and curious, pushing against him, and Kaz lets him do it. His lips are rough, like he bites at them often, and Kaz can feel the barest hint of incoming facial hair rubbing against his own skin.
Jesper deepens the kiss, drawing Kaz into his rhythm until Kaz feels himself kissing back, and it would almost be instinctual, letting Jesper lead him through the movements, if his heart weren’t beating so hard. If his skin weren’t on fire. He feels Jesper smile against his mouth and there’s a palm against Kaz’s cheek, opposite to the wrist Kaz is still holding, keeping him steady. The angle of the kiss changes as Jesper moves. He’s risen up on his knees so that he can lean over Kaz, can control the kiss better. Kaz likes that, he realises. He likes the way he has to tip his neck back a little so he doesn’t lose contact with Jesper, likes Jesper using the hand on his cheek to direct his head to the angle he wants. It makes his toes twitch. The kiss turns rougher, more demanding. A soft noise escapes him, muffled against Jesper’s mouth.
“Fuck,” someone says very softly.
Jesper pauses and pulls back far enough that he can look Kaz in the eye. A string of saliva breaks from his lips as he does. The thumb on Kaz’s cheek strokes along his cheekbone. “Alright?” he murmurs, and the smooth baritone of his voice vibrates all the way through Kaz’s body.
They could stop. They should stop. But his body feels like a tinderbox, ready to go up in a rush of flame.
“More,” Kaz demands, and pulls Jesper back into him.
Jesper takes the offer for what it is, and there’s no sense of hesitation in the way he kisses him a second time; no curiosity, only heated intent. He takes Kaz’s mouth, owns it, turning Kaz’s head so that he can push in deeper, his nose pressing into Kaz’s cheek. Kaz can feel Jesper’s experience in the way he kisses like he’s fully aware of what he’s doing to Kaz, like he’s playing with Kaz and the way the coils of arousal make it hard for him to breathe. He feels needy and wanting, pushing back up into Jesper to try and get closer.
“Shh,” Jesper soothes against his lips, and then he’s swinging a leg over Kaz’s hips so he’s straddling him, keeping the distance between them by only inches. His hand leaves Kaz’s cheek to press against his shoulder, pinning him against the couch and keeping him still for Jesper to do whatever he wants with him. Kaz slumps further down the couch and just lets Jesper arch over him, cover him with his body and take his pleasure.
Jesper kisses and kisses and kisses him, his tongue licking over the seam of Kaz’s mouth, his teeth nipping at his lower lip in a way that makes Kaz jerk and groan, the little pinpricks of pain making the fire in his belly burn bright. He can’t stop his hips from swivelling in tiny motions, can’t help the way his good knee curls and his heel scrabbles over that expensive rug. Can’t stop himself from making tiny noises only Jesper can hear. With one hand still around Jesper’s wrist, the other finds its way to his shoulder and his fingers dig in hard to keep Jesper against him.
Jesper breaks away from his mouth and trails kisses down, teeth scraping gently over the line of his jaw. Kaz blinks his eyes open, dazed, and the lights swim above him, refusing to come into focus. Jesper abandons his jaw and lowers his head further, kissing along the fragile column of his throat, sucking and biting and pressing at the soft skin there.
When his teeth nick the spot right beneath his jaw that Kaz loves, he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth and his hips jerk up against Jesper. Jesper moans too.
A possessive hand wraps around the back of Kaz’s neck, and he hears Inej say, “If you’re going to take it further, now would be the time to say so.”
She doesn’t sound annoyed. She sounds - turned on, actually. Kaz has heard her in that state enough to recognise the threadiness in her voice. Still, it’s enough to knock some sense back into him and Jesper too, judging by the way he freezes. Then he pulls away and sits back, settling down on Kaz’s thighs. Kaz doesn’t know what to make of the way he likes Jesper’s weight against his body.
Jesper is staring at Kaz, trapping him with those bright eyes of his. His lips are swollen and spit-slick and his chest rises and falls in quick, shallow pants. His gaze is half-lidded and heavy.
Kaz knows he must look worse. He’s collapsed against the couch and he feels too hot, like the temperature in the room is several degrees higher than what is comfortable. He knows his skin must be flushed, patches of red raised against the paleness. His lips already feel bruised and there’s a strand of hair falling over his forehead. He feels far too undone for just a kiss.
Impulsively, Jesper reaches out to run a thumb along Kaz’s bottom lip, drawing it down a little before he releases him. He disentangles his wrist from Kaz’s fingers. “We’re good,” he says quietly.
“Well that was quite the show,” Nina purrs. When Kaz looks over at her, she’s fanning herself dramatically, but her free hand is drawing distracted patterns against her own thigh. Matthias is studying his wine, his face bright red.
Jesper clambers off Kaz and returns to lounging near Wylan, who is worrying the inside of his cheek between his teeth, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater. He tosses a lazy, satisfied grin in Nina’s direction, looking like a well-fed cat. He’s almost licking his lips. “That was fun,” he drawls.
“I’ll say,” Nina responds.
Jesper looks back at Kaz and his expression tempers again, turns darker. Even with his weight gone from Kaz’s body, Kaz still feels short of breath, like his lungs are remembering how to work properly. “It was,” Jesper says quieter.
He becomes aware that Inej is dragging her short nails through the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. The rhythm is a reassurance which soothes something deep inside him, erases some uncertainty he wasn’t fully conscious of. He’s not sure how he feels - his head is still spinning, dazed and overwhelmed - but it’s a reminder that he doesn’t need to be flustered nor should he be embarrassed. It’s a reminder that she’s there with him, like she always is.
It’s a struggle to look Jesper in the eye, but he still manages a short nod. Fun is one word for it.
Wylan stands and yanks Jesper to his feet alongside him. “We’re going upstairs now,” he says abruptly and a grin splits Jesper’s face. Nina cackles, and Inej snorts in amusement as Wylan marches for the hallway, dragging Jesper along behind him like a particularly docile dog.
“Wanna join?” Jesper asks only a moment before they disappear, looking down at Kaz. And then he’s gone, hauled along by Wylan’s single-minded determination, and Kaz hears Jesper’s laughter echoing along the hall.
The silence left behind feels heavy. Kaz can feel Inej watching the back of his head. They’ll be talking later, he knows, but right now he doesn’t want to move, and neither does she. It can wait until he can no longer feel the imprint of Jesper’s lips numbing his own.
“So …” Nina says eventually, elongating the word. “We all agree Radmakker is hottest then?”
And Kaz lets himself sink into the haze of his friends’ dramatic protests and drunken chatter once again.