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Jesper"s gut twisted and wrenched, forcing sweat out of his pores and ripples of icy heat down his flesh. Guilt and repulsion clawed at him with its ugly hands, forcing the disgust out of his body as though he could purge it like a plague.
He was fifteen when he leaned against the alley wall, watching his stomach spill past his lips.
There was no warning. No nod, no glance. Brekker was a cobra, with hands for fangs and a venomous mind. The crack was quick and swift, reverberating in Jesper"s bones like he was the one who had been struck.
Jesper didn"t feel bad for him. He might have when he watched Kaz break his teeth and kick him out the door, but it was enough to teach him that you don"t pocket money in the Dregs. He had only been hanging out with the gang for a week, but he learned his lesson then loud and clear.
It was a special kind of stupid that made you seek revenge after that, especially against Dirtyhands. What the man did was dishonorable and wrong, and Jesper knew that. But that didn"t stop his hands from grasping at the aging stone or his stomach from heaving him dry.
Jesper had barely turned around when he heard grunting and a gunshot ricochet off the alley. He reached for his pistol, but by the time he had it out the man"s gun was sliding against his foot. Kaz had him with his knees on the stone and hands behind his back, a dark boot planted firmly on his wrist.
His lips whispered close to the man"s ear, murmuring a bile Jesper can only imagine. There was a hand on his chin and another on his head, a quick twist, and then it was over. His eyes were still gleaming when he fell over as if he could stave off whatever hell Barrel rats were tossed to.
Jesper sat up and wiped at his mouth. Kaz was looking at his pocket watch as though Jesper"s sickness somehow impeded on his day plans.
"If you"re done tossing out your breakfast, I"ll have you know that the stadwatch isn"t kind to those who haven"t lined their pockets." He glanced at the body, and Jesper got the feeling that it wouldn"t be smart to stay there for long.
Kaz gave him a short conversation on the way back to the Crow Club. It was nothing big or emotional: all unfiltered and straight to the facts, just like Kaz. Jesper was told all about how if he wanted to stay around, then these were the kinds of things he should expect.
Jesper simply nodded along as if it was nothing. The last thing he wanted to be seen as is weak, but he left behind something cruel and vicious in that alley–black with wrongness and pure in his bones.
He didn"t understand how something so brutal could be so simple, but the Barrel forced people to be quick learners.
"I thought I would find you up here."
Jesper takes a guilty pleasure in Wylan"s face. When he"s surprised, his eyes go wide and his lips slightly part like a shocked puppy.
When he sees it, Jesper barks a laugh. "What are you all surprised for? Unless you have someone on the side, I can"t think of anyone else who would be coming up here," he chuckles, pulling himself from the porch the rest of the way onto the roof.
With all the money that went into making this house as grandious as it was, Van Eck could have at least afforded a roof hatch.
Wylan"s cheeks turn rosemary pink. "I couldn"t think of anyone who would find me up here," he points out. "You don"t usually start looking for someone on the roof."
"Well, I didn"t have to look very hard," Jesper says as he situates himself on the stone shingles. "You"re a lot of good things, Wylan, but you"re no Wraith." Jesper could hear him clamoring on the side of the house, trying to climb up from the balcony to the overhanging roof.
But that had been a while ago. Jesper had let him stay up there unimpeded because you don"t exactly go on the roof to make friends. Sometimes Wylan needed to be alone, and that was okay. But after a while, Jesper had to wonder just what it was about a roof that was so enticing.
Now he"s up here, with the stone shingles beneath his hips and the sprawling Van Eck estate stretched out before him. The night-cooled summer breeze kisses gently at his skin as it floats past.
He does admit: it"s all rather refreshing. Of course, he can"t imagine just sitting here for an hour. His fingers are already tapping away, his crossed leg bouncing on top of the other.
Wylan gives a small laugh. "I guess there"s a reason Kaz chose me for chemicals," he sighs, glancing down at the charcoal-filled notebook in his lap.
"Yeah, you lucked out there," Jesper snickers. It"s at that moment that he gives a yelp when Wylan nudges him the ribs.
"What? What did I say?" Jesper exclaims, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.
"That"s when you"re supposed to say oh no, you"re amazingly stealthy Wylan and great at sneaking around," Wylan points out, leaning on his side so he"s looking Jesper in the eye. His tone is accusing, but the corner of his lip quirks up playfully.
Jesper sighs. Leaning up, Jesper cups Wylan"s face in his hands and plants a quick kiss on his nose before looking him in his eyes.
"Merchling, you are a lot of things. Compassionate, smart, creative. But believe me when I say that you were not the spider of our little group," he says. Jesper feels Wylan"s cheeks grow hot under his fingertips.
With another laugh, Jesper leans back on the roof and folds his arms underneath him. Wylan only looks at him and sighs, but Jesper would be hard-pressed to miss the smile on his lips.
After a long moment, Wylan leans back so that he"s laying next to Jesper. The roof shingles aren"t exactly feather-stuffed, but Jesper finds that it"s comfortable enough when Wylan"s arm is pressing against his own.
Jesper isn"t much of a dreamer. He prefers things that he can feel—the backfire of a revolver as a bullet screams out the barrel, the adrenaline-filled thumping of his heart as the cards grow warm in his hands. He"s not used to slow moments like this.
Jesper doesn"t think he deserves it, but he does think that he"ll be able to get used to it.
Beside Jesper, Wylan sighs contently. For whatever reason, Jesper begins to laugh a little bit.
"What"s so funny?" Wylan asks, glancing up at him.
"I"m just thinking," Jesper says. "You have an entire estate. You have all these benches and rooms and gardens, and yet, out of all of them, you go onto the roof. Which, by the way, has got the be the most uncomfortable, risky, out-of-the-way place you could think of."
Jesper feels Wylan"s shoulder shrug against his side. "I wanted to work and think. Go somewhere no one would find me."
"Getting the feeling I"m not exactly wanted here."
"No! No," Wylan exclaims, loud at first but then quickly calms down. "You are. I mean...I wanted to go somewhere no one random would find me. I don"t think I can just go away to all my old hiding places. It"s not very dignified to hide under a table when you"re in charge of a business empire."
"Aw, come on. You missed this," Jesper says, a cheeky grin between his thick lips.
Wylan cranes his head to look up at Jesper, his brows knitted together. "What do you mean?"
"Please, don"t play dumb," Jesper says with a roll of his eyes. "The sneaking around and going places no one else could go. The thrill of doing something so outside what"s supposed to be done. You were born to be a heathen."
Wylan sighs, laying his head back down beside Jesper so that it lays his arm. Reaching up, Jesper wraps his forearm around Wylan and feels a rush of satisfaction.
"You shouldn"t be so proud of that. The heathen part, I mean," Wylan sighs beside Jesper. However, Jesper finds that he doesn"t deny it.
Instead, Jesper scoffs. "Oh, I know you"re not taking the moral high ground with me, Mr. I-specialize-in-bombs-and-poisons. You are just as guilty as the rest of us. I"ve seen your scheming face."
"I don"t have a scheming face," Wylan insists adamantly.
Jesper gives Wylan a look. "No one can be that brainy and not have a scheming face."
Wylan"s face heats up against Jesper"s arm, and he gives a huff and lays back down. Jesper grins, expecting Wylan to laugh or even crack a smile, but instead, he stays silent. Slowly, the smile falls from Jesper"s face.
"...So," Jesper says, trying to fill the newfound silence. He doesn"t think he did anything wrong, but then again, he is pretty new to the long-term-relationship scene. "I"m assuming the gears in that brain of yours are working away?"
Wylan sighs. "Kind of. I don"t know. I"ve been thinking." He reaches up to rub at his eye.
Jesper mocks a gasp. "Really? What a surprise," he says, and can"t help laughing when he feels Wylan"s elbow jab into his ribs.
"I"m serious, Jes," Wylan insists.
Jesper opens his mouth, another retort at the ready, but as soon as he sees Wylan"s face he immediately bites it back.
Wylan"s brow is knit together, all humor gone from his eyes. Instead, he stares with a steely and concerned gaze that takes Jesper by surprise.
Jesper freezes, taken aback by the intensity of Wylan"s look before letting the smile fall from his face. "...Alright merchling," he says, sitting up. "I"ll bite. What"s on your mind?"
Wylan scoffs. "A lot. Mostly this." He glances at his notebook that Jesper can barely see in the dark, but what he knows for a fact is full of explosive diagrams and formulas. "And...what that means."
"...Right," Jesper says as though he sees where Wylan is going with this. He loves Wylan, but when the merchling gets caught up in his head it can sometimes be a chore to follow along.
"It"s just..." Wylan looks up at the sky, then puts his face in his hands and groans. "Shouldn"t I—we feel bad about this? I mean, I"m working to blow things up and you"re a gunman. We"re not exactly upstanding citizens."
Jesper sighs. All the humor has left his voice. "Merchling, if I start worrying about what"s right and wrong at this point in my life I"d have to become throw myself at the purest god I could find and become a devout nun just to make up for half of it." He tries cracking a small smile, but it feels wrong, so he lets it fall back down.
The truth is that Jesper has spent long nights pondering over the same question. Wondering if he"s doing the right thing and always distracting himself from the answer. He finds that it"s was easier to distract himself from a lot of things.
Of course, usually, there was never time to think about it. The next game or the next job or the next hookup filled his mind like the most wonderful sensations that didn"t matter in the slightest. They distracted him from his debt or his dad or anything that might threaten to scar his face with worry lines.
But here, there are none of those things. Everything is calm and quiet. For the first time in years, Jesper can breathe. He can feel the night air filling his lungs and one of the best boys he had ever met in his life sitting at his side.
There"s no one to chase him. No thoughts that would worry him late at night and no shadows that could creep upon him at any moment. And when things are slow and he"s not worrying and fighting for his life, that"s when he can"t help but wonder.
"Doesn"t that bother you?" Wylan turns to Jesper with eyes so deep Jesper feels he could find a new secret in them every day of his life.
Jesper shrugs. "Merchling, this city isn"t exactly a breeding ground for morality," he sighs. "Can"t very well expect a garden filled with parasites to churn out perfect plants."
And he"s right. Ketterdam is a city of sin where fourteen-year-olds can be sold as sex slaves, men can slaughter their sons, and children can be driven into near-unforgivable debt. It"s hard to expect kids who grow up here to turn out perfect.
"So what you"re saying is...we"re bug-eaten plants," Wylan says with a scoff.
Jesper looks over at Wylan. "What? No, that"s not..." He takes a moment to think over what he said, and quickly realizes that comparing them to a broken-down garden probably wasn"t the best course of action.
A beat of silence passes. A smile cracks between Wylan"s lips, so soft and pink they look like rose petals. And then he snorts, and then he"s laughing. Jesper doesn"t quite know why, but the sound is something he could get drunk on.
And then Jesper is laughing, and they"re both on top of the rooftop, laughing under the moonlit sky at so many things Jesper isn"t sure which one to pick. Maybe it"s because of Jesper"s slip-up, but maybe because it just feels good to laugh.
There are so many things to worry about. Jesper tries his best to ignore it, but they drag on him like new shackles. His fabrikator training. Going to visit his father. The person he"s become in Kettedam: the kind of boy that shoots people and brags and gives into temptation and every other dirty marred thing that has stained his skin and his soul.
But maybe that"s all that can be expected to happen. He and Wylan and everyone else in his life didn"t ask to have Ketterdam sink their claws into them. They didn"t ask to be pulled into a world that wanted nothing more than to take from and exploit them at every turn. They were just children trying to survive in a rotten world.
"Okay...okay, Wylan, look," Jesper forces out. Their laughter dies down, and suddenly it"s just him and Wylan, sitting on the roof and misplaced in the world. The sky is both beautiful and indifferent, and they are here, scarred and not quite broken, but more alive than ever.
Jesper takes Wylan"s hands in his own, soft and warm against his calloused palms. "We are not perfect. We were trying to survive. And now, we"re going to stay in the Dregs, and you know why? So we can make it easier for kids like us to survive."
Wylan pauses. Then he gives a small nod, as though what Jesper said is enough to ease his conscious. Quietly, he lays back down against Jesper, and the two lay down on the roof.
"That"s good. I didn"t really want to leave the Dregs anyways," Wylan says, and Jesper gives another laugh.
Jesper doesn"t know what he feels when he sees the infinite sky stretching out before him. He doesn"t know if he wants to know. But he does know that Wylan laying up against him is warm and soft. It fills him with a sensation as close to peace and belonging that he has felt in a long time.
And maybe that"s more than he deserves. But Jesper supposes he must have done something to make whoever"s up there happy because he can"t imagine anything better.