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He should never have trusted him. He knew somehow, someway, he knew this would happen. Doesn't it always? Every time he is even in the same room as the sharpshooter, something goes wrong.
Or maybe…something goes right.
Because every time they interact, Wylan either clumsily trips into him, stammers until Jesper’s grin turns teasing, or ends up partnered with him on some half-cursed mission that leaves his heart pounding for all the wrong reasons.
Tonight, though….tonight was supposed to be different.
He’d done it. He’d avoided Jesper Fahey for the entire evening at the Crow Club. He’d spent the whole night ducking between tables, pretending to be busy, and finally, finally, he’d been paired with Nina for the next job. The Saints had decided to grant him mercy at last.
Yet it was when he hurriedly put on his coat and opened the door of the club to leave that he realized his good fortune had run dry.
He didn’t need to turn around. He felt him. The warmth radiating too close, the low hum of a chuckle just behind his ear. The air between them charged, sharp and humming like the tension before lightning. The hairs at the back of Wylan’s neck stood on end. It was probably just Wylan’s imagination, though.
“Well, isn't that a pity?”
Jesper murmured. His voice was silk dipped in smoke, close enough that Wylan felt it against his skin.
Rain hammered the streets outside, relentlessly. The kind that blurred the edges of everything, turning Ketterdam into a washed-out blur of gray and gold light. Wylan glanced down at his thin jacket, useless, and the lack of a hat. Typical.
It was grey outside, as it always was, but the streets were empty with the storm rumbling through. Jesper sighed behind him and grabbed his own coat. He seemed to forget a hat as well, which was very unlike him.
“Guess we will have to run merchling, think you can keep up?”
We?
Wylan turned sharply, brows furrowed. Jesper’s grin was infuriatingly soft. “Who are we?” His tone came out sharper than he meant, but his pulse was racing, and he needed distance, any distance. Jesper Fahey was dangerous for his heart.
Jesper tilted his head, unbothered, eyes gleaming under the flicker of the streetlight.
“We are we, and you are you, and me is me. And we,” he said, lazily gesturing between them, “are going to your place. Kaz’s orders. Someone’s got to keep you safe, with the Dime Lions prowling about.”
Wylan opened his mouth, then froze as Jesper leaned in, voice dropping lower. “Don’t worry, my sweet boy. I’ll make sure this rain doesn’t wash your precious red locks away.”
His stomach twisted, warmth rising uninvited to his cheeks. Jesper’s words weren’t even serious, just another teasing drawl, but Saints, they felt too real.
He oh so wished that Jesper's words were true, and for a second, he could believe that he was Jesper's sweet boy. He looked the baritone in the eyes at that second, seeing his kind and teasing look back with a wide smile.
Jesper smiled down at him, that familiar, devastatingly easy smile, and Wylan smiled back before he could stop himself.
And that was the problem.
With just one look, Jesper could undo him completely. Melt through his nerves and careful distance like the sun through frost. And Saints help him, Wylan didn’t want to know what those hands could do if Jesper ever touched him like he wanted to be touched.
Changing subject (as Jesper did), the Zemini shifted closer, holding his coat open like a cape, eyes flicking toward the storm. “Like I said, we will make a run for it. We can stop by the overhang of the market just up there. We can stop every couple of blocks to catch our breath,” he said, pointing to the canopy in the distance.
“We will be drenched by then,” Wylan spoke as he squinted his eyes. There was no way he would be getting home with dry socks.
Jesper leaned his elbow on Wylan's shoulder, using him almost like a table, “I sure hope so,” he leaned down and winked.
Oh Ghezan. This would be the death of him, he was sure of it.
He’d never really had to deal with Jesper alone unless they were on missions. Or at least, he tried not to. He always had someone else in the room or a plan to focus on. But now it was just them and the persistent clatter of water splashing on the cobblestone.
He could get through this. He was Wylan, and Wylan made bombs. He could get through running in the rain with his crush… back to his place… drenched. Fuck.
Before Wylan could even think another thought, he felt warmth envelop his hand as Jesper took it in his own and pulled him out the door. They both started out jogging before realizing just how heavy the rain was.
It felt like only seconds before Wylan's vision was blurry with droplets in his eyelashes, and he could feel the water soaking through his coat and trousers. Yet he kept running, squeezing Jesper’s hand tighter. It was warm. It was nice. He wanted more.
Wylan ran a bit faster, now toe to toe with Jesper instead of right behind him. Jesper’s laughter rang through it, bright and reckless, and for one wild second, Wylan forgot the cold. He unconsciously moved closer to Jesper's body, seeking the only heat around him. Yeah. That was the reason he moved closer.
By the time they ducked under the overhang of the market, both were dripping and panting. The rain came down in silver sheets only inches away, and the world beyond it blurred like a dream.
Jesper shoved a hand through his soaked hair, laughing softly. “We survived step one,”
Wylan leaned against the wooden beam, trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding, not from the run. Jesper was too close again. Their shoulders brushed every time one of them moved. His breath steamed in the cool air, mixing with Jesper’s.
Jesper looked at him then, really looked, eyes sweeping over his soaked clothes, the curls plastered to his forehead. Wylan could feel his gaze warm him immediately. “Saints, you look like you fought the rain and lost.”
Wylan let out a shaky laugh. “You don’t look much better.”
Jesper flashed him a teasing smirk before reaching out his hand again, “onto the next cover?”
Wylan didn't hesitate to put his hand out.
In all honesty, running through the rain with Jesper was fun. He felt free with his curls clinging to his forehead and his clothes sticking to him. He didn't even try to stay dry at this point. He was purely humoring Jespers' “amazingly smart plan” to run to each cover and catch their breath.
He was already stuck with him so might as well make the most of it. He would go through with this extremely ineffective plan of staying dry, just to allow it to happen. And if he slowed down his pace on purpose, that was for himself only to know.
They ran farther than before, laughing as they went, pulling and pushing at each other as they tried not to slip or splash up too much water. They were getting closer to home.
When they finally reached the second overhang, they realized that there were carts of what seemed to be apples under it, taking up any room for them to use as protection against the rain. Except for a small corner.
Jesper quickly spotted it and pulled them both to it, almost dragging Wylan along. The corner was small and cramped, in between the wall of the store and the handles of the barrel, there was just enough room for Wylan to stand flush against Jesper.
And that was where he was. He could feel the boy's heart beating rapidly, probably from the running. He tried not to focus on how close in proximity they were, how right it felt being up against him like this. How warm he felt-
“Sorry,” Jesper murmured, voice low, roughened by laughter and rain. He didn’t move away.
“It’s fine,” Wylan said, though his voice cracked halfway through the word. His hand was still in Jesper’s; he hadn’t realized until Jesper’s thumb swept gently over his knuckles, absentminded, steady. The gesture set something fluttering in Wylan’s chest.
Outside the cover, the rain pounded against the cobblestones; inside their tiny pocket of shelter, it was just the sound of dripping water, quick breaths, and the thunder rolling far away.
Jesper leaned forward slightly, peering out at the street. His breath brushed against Wylan’s temple, and Wylan’s entire focus narrowed to that single point of warmth.
Wylan told himself to move, to step into the rain, to let the storm soak him instead of this heat coiling in his chest. But Jesper didn’t move either. He just looked at him, that look that could peel walls apart if you let it linger too long.
“Saints, you’re shaking,” Jesper said lightly, voice velvet and smoke. “You cold, merchling, or is that me?”
Wylan forced out a laugh that came out wrong, breathless, uneven. “You think everything’s about you.”
“Only the good things.” Jesper leaned in, close enough that his forehead brushed Wylan’s curls. “You keep proving me right.”
Wylan’s pulse thundered in his ears. “You really don’t know when to stop talking, do you?”
Jesper grinned, teeth bright in the low light. “If I did, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Raindrops ran down the back of Wylan’s neck. He shivered again, this time from the cold. Jesper noticed; he always noticed.
“Here,” Jesper murmured, shrugging off his coat. “You’ll catch a cold,”
“I don’t want your coat.” Wylan’s voice came out rushed, almost panicked.
Jesper’s brows lifted. “Didn’t realize generosity offended you.”
“It’s not-” Wylan bit down on the words. Saints, why did it always turn into this? Every joke felt like a dare, a challenge to his mental strength. He suddenly felt weak.
Jesper tilted his head. “Then what is it?”
Wylan met his eyes. They were standing chest to chest, breaths apart in the middle of a rain storm. Fuck it.
“It’s you.”
Jesper's eyebrows creased with confusion. Tilting his head, he leaned deeper into the wall, pulling Wylan closer.
“Me?” he said softly. “Can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a confession.”
Wylan’s breath hitched. “Maybe it’s both.”
Jesper’s laugh was low this time, almost disbelieving. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
He leaned forward slightly, impeding Wylan's personal space (more than he already was), and Wylan didn’t move back. No, he wouldn't. He already just exposed himself, so what other damage could he possibly do? He was all in or nothing.
And he would be a fool if he were getting nothing.
It felt as if the world had swallowed them whole, and he could barely hear the rain in his ears compared to the racing of his heart. Jesper's eyes bored into his own; it reminded Wylan of caramel. Jesper's mouth was parted slightly; he looked almost… flustered.
It was all too much. Standing there, moments apart, it took everything in Wylan not to just lean forward and close the gap. He envied the air in between them, envied the drops of rain trailing his jaw line, and he envied the wet clothes clinging to his body.
He wanted to be water at that moment.
They were only a block or two away from Wylan's own apartment now. He could set this spark out easily and continue on their way, or he could also wait until they got to his apartment and then ask him to come in.
But Wylan was never a patient person.
He needed more, and he would take it. The clothes sticking to his body made him sensitive to any touch, any heat infiltrating the chilled environment they were in.
Without another thought, he took his free hand in between them and ran it along Jesper's lips, wiping the drops away.
Wylan's heart fluttered when he leaned into the touch. Hope was what he felt. His lips were soft and moist. Despite how cold it was, they were warm.
He’d spent all these months running from this exact feeling, and all of sudden, he didnt feel like running anymore. He was tired.
He hastily pressed his lips into Jesper's, feeling the warmth on his own. It wasn't aggressive, but firm. He forgot all about the rain as Jesper started to kiss back, moving his mouth as if he was eager for more. As if he were hungry.
And if Jesper was hungry, then Wylan was starved.
He didn't care that they stood against a storefront, barely out of the rain, pressed together sloppily ,licking each other's mouth,s because he was making out with Jesper Fahey. And oh, was it worth not waiting.
Jesper made a small noise as Wylan kissed deeper, wrapping his hand around his head and squeezing at the wet curls on his neck.
Jesper's own hands found his hips, pulling him impossibly closer, squeezing slightly. The musician ground against him, earning him a gasp which he swallowed quickly.
The sharpshooter broke the kiss to leave sloppy pecks on Wylan's jaw, trailing down his neck, hesitating there as he sucked and kissed. Wylan's eyes closed as his lips grew closer and closer to behind his ear-
“Ahh-”
Jesper had found his sweet spot. He fell back, so Jesper had more access as they pressed further into each other's bodies, begging for any kind of warmth.
Wylan should be cold, with his entire back exposed to the outside air, and yet he felt as if he was burning. Every point of contact with Jesper stung with bright pleasure and needed more of that sweet, sweet burn.
He didn't care that they were drenched. He didn't care that every piece of clothing was dripping outrageous amounts of water; he didn't care that he was blinded by the rain or that his curls were pressed against his forehead. He didn't care they were probably going to catch a cold.
Wylan captured his lips again, this time determined to memorize every part of his mouth, memorize every reaction to his hand's movement, and simply feel.
His hands moved to the top of Jesper's head, where he experimentally tightened his grip and yanked slightly-
Jesper whined. He whined. Wylan couldn't help the noise that came out as a reaction to it. Saints Jesper sounded wrecked. He couldn’t get enough. He didn't think he would make it back to his apartment in this condition. All he wanted was to hear that noise over and over and over-
When they finally broke apart, Jesper’s forehead rested against Wylan’s, their noses brushing lightly. His breath came uneven, and there was something fragile in his grin now, something unguarded.
“Saints,” Jesper whispered, voice trembling, “You really don’t do things halfway, do you?”
Wylan blinked, dazed, his pulse still thundering through his veins. “You talk too much,” he managed, though it came out softer than he intended.
Jesper laughed, a low, breathy sound that melted straight into the drizzle still falling at the edge of their shelter. “And you kiss like you’re trying to make me forget how.”
Wylan flushed, ducking his head, but Jesper caught his chin gently, coaxing him to look back up. There was no teasing in his eyes now, only warmth, and something steadier.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Jesper murmured.
“I wasn’t planning it,” Wylan admitted.
“I liked it, though. Why don’t we get home hm?”
Home.
Wylan laughed as he yanked Jesper's hand out into the cold night. He felt giddy. As if a large weight was taken off his stomach, he could breathe again. And the fresh air smelled amazing.
They stumbled through the heavy rain, hand in hand once again, sometimes pushing into each other. Wylan grabbed Jesper's arm as they neared the stairs they needed to climb to get to his apartment. They were mostly protected by the rain now. He pushed Jesper to them, quickly pressing him against the mostly dry steps, kneeling down with him and pressing into his mouth once more.
He couldn't get enough of Jesper's taste. He couldn’t even describe it other than good. He just tasted good.
Jesper smiled into the kiss, “as much as I do love how romantic this rain scene is, I would much prefer to have you not on some random stairs. Perhaps a bed?”
Wylan's ears pinked more than they already were from the cold, he half dragged a laughing Jesper up his steps and fished for his key in his bag quickly.
Finally opening the door he let his satchel fall to the floor as he felt hands grab at his hips, effectively using his body to close the door behind them.
He let out an umph as he prepared his head to hit the door hard, yet it didn't come. Instead he felt a soft hand block the reaction, running his fingers through his curls sternly.
Their eyes met, he saw Jesper's pupils dilate right above hi,m and he bit back a moan at the sight. Now in the soft light of the apartment, Wylan could make out the droplets on his dark creamy skin which seemed to glow with life.
They both just stood there for a moment, taking in each other's presence, slightly panting. It was becoming more and more obvious how soaked they truly were and each shift of the clothes did not help with the way Wylan was feeling.
Jesper closed the gap, immediately dipping his tongue into Wylan's mouth, swallowing his moan as his hands started to take off his jacket. Wylan soon found Jesper's coat and pushed it off, not caring that the floors would be a mess.
His hands were tangled in Jesper's buttons when he suddenly felt-
“Ah~ Jes,” His head fell back against the door this time with no cushion. Jespers knee continued to press up into Wylan's crotch and Wylan was helpless to the way he grinded down.
“Say that again,” Jesper's voice was rough and deep, as if he had just woken up. Wylan was sure he was dreaming. He was so delirious in pleasure he forgot to even answer.
“Say my name again,” Jesper repeated this time.
“Jes. Jesper,” it came out as a half moan but he was too lost to care.
“Saints, your voice is like an angel,” Jesper muttered against his skin, finally pulling Wylan's button-up completely off. Wylan didn't even feel the shirt coming off, too greedy in the way he rubbed against Jesper's knee. Surely there was a wet spot there now, and not from the rain.
He shivered from the exposure but not the cold. Never the cold when it came to Jesper. He slowly pushed them away from the door, leading them to the bed before hesitating. Somehow, he could still think clearly enough to know not to go onto the mattress still in dripping clothes.
“Clothes off,” Wylan spoke against Jesper's lips, he could feel Jesper let out a shaky sigh at his words more than see it.
“Allow me,” Jesper's hands were quick to Wylan's trousers, still kissing him, as if his life depended on it. Wylan also went to work on Jesper's clothes, skillfully peeling his top away and shoving his trousers down as far as he could while keeping in contact with his lips.
When they were both naked, Jesper guided them both onto the mattress, with Wylan landing first. Both their skin were still damp from the outside weather but they didn’t care, no, they would be warmed up quite soon.
Jesper paused above him, taking in all that Wylan was. He felt his blush spread across his body as the attention but he didn’t shy away, he basked in it.
“Beautiful,” Jesper murmured, he said it so softly Wylan wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear it.
Jesper ducked his head down to Wylan's chest, leaving warm and sloppy kisses in his path, rolling his tongue over his nipples.
Wylan arched at the feeling; he was by no means a virgin– but he had never felt this electric during sex. Every touch felt like a shock to his heart, and he craved more.
“So perfect for me, Wy, gonna take care of you, okay? Gonna treat you like the prince you are until you're shaking and breathless. Do you want that? Want me to tease you til you beg?”
Oh, Saints, he was not going to last.
The heat in his belly grew with every word, every promise.
“Please,” he breathed out, nuzzling further into the sheets as his hips raised, allowing him to meet Jespers, eliciting a moan from both of them at the contact.
Jesper's hands trailed his sides like feathers before ending on his hip bones, pushing him gently into the bed below.
Jesper's mouth explored all of Wylan's body, from his neck down to his thighs, where he left small bite marks. Each time Wylan rolled his hips in search of any kind of friction and would always find none. The light touches were becoming too much and too little. He needed a break; he needed more.
Jesper watched each movement, each one of Wylan's breaths as he sucked into his thighs, squeezing right at the joint, enough to leave bruises that only Wylan would see and Jesper would know about.
“P-please. I need more,” Wylan whined out, he needed something, anything. He felt like crying every time Jesper would avoid his aching cock or his tight hole. The feeling was exhilarating and breaking all at once.
“I’ve got you baby, you've been so good for me. Such a good boy for me,” Jesper spoke dangerously. Wylan's hips jerked up mindlessly at the praise, he keened at the words as a choked moan fell from his mouth.
Jesper smirked with the newfound knowledge. “Like being called a good boy? Like being good for me and only me hm?”
Wylan let out noise of approval, words not even an option with how tightly wounded he felt.
Wylan sucked in a breath, suppressing his groan as Jesper's tongue found its way to his balls. Slowly trailing up until he got to the base of his dick.
Jesper paused there though, only resuming after he quietly said, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,”
Wylan's mind whirled. What did that mean? Could he have possibly been so blind as to not see Jesper had reciprocated his feelings all this time? He barely had a chance to think the phrase through before Jesper's tongue found his tip and he sank entirely onto Wylan's cock.
“Jespa-a-a, ah fuck,” His hand quickly found Jespers hair that was starting to dry and squeezed gently, allowing Jesper to move as he pleased. Jesper moaned at his words, causing Wylan's toes to curl and clench his jaw from the feeling.
He forced his eyes to stay open as he watched with awe as Jesper's mouth bobbed up and down on his length. He could feel his tongue circling his tip every time he came up to i,t and could feelit every time Jepser hollowed his cheeks.
He would not last like this.
After one hard gag from the man, Wylan pulled his head back up for a kiss. A spark shot through him as he realized he was tasting himself through Jesper's mouth.
Pulling back slightly, Jesper's eyes looked glazed over with pleasure and lust, his eyes lingering on Wylan's lips before meeting his gaze through hooded eyelids.
It was the most beautiful thing Wylan had ever seen.
“What do you want,” Jesper's question was like a wake up call for him. He felt all his needs and wants tumbling straight to his mind. He wanted everything, anything Jesper would give him.
“Need to feel you,” he panted out, “need to feel you deep in me,”
Jesper groaned at his words, quickly reaching into his bed side drawer for what Wylan assumed was oil.
Wylan shifted his hips during this time so that he was lying against the headboard. Usually, he prepped himself but when Jesper opened the tube and poured the lubricant onto his own fingers, Wylan couldn't even imagine wasting the opportunity.
Adjusting the pillow under him, one of Jesper's arms went around his lower back and the other went straight to his rim where he closely circled it, experimentally prodding at the entrance.
With the way they were positioned, Jesper's face was right in front of Wylan and he felt trapped between the man and the bed in the best way possible.
Wylan gasped when Jesper finally dipped his finger fully in, the initial stretch burned with pleasure. As he relaxed, Jesper dipped his head to his jaw, leaving love bites as his finger worked him open, holding him close with his other arm.
Wylan let out a sort of groan as Jesper added another finger, welcoming the stretch, his hands found Jesper's chest as he breathed through it. It felt so good but not enough.
“So pretty baby, feel so good around my fingers, just know you're gonna feel amazing stretched around my cock,” Jesper sped his movements up as he scissored them in and out of Wylan, brushing right by his prostate to the point that he had to be doing it on purpose.
Wylan's jaw hung loose at the words but no sounds came out other than needy pants and occasional whines. He kept his eyes steady on Jespers though, he watched how the sharpshooter's pupils seemed to dilate farther than possible with his reactions. It felt oddly intimate, simply being held and staring at each other as one worked the other to utter crumbs while the one above seemed to be in shambles over it. It felt almost too vulnerable.
He quite liked it.
His back arched, shifting his body slightly which caused Jesper to hit his prostate straight on, eliciting a strangled moan from him. He had never been so hard in his life.
Usually when he prepped it was purely prepping. But with Jesper it felt like he was trying to get Wylan to come from this. As if this could have been the main act, Wylan still believed it could be if Jesper continued what he was doing.
He definitely wouldn't be looking at Jesper's fingers the same ever again.
Suddenly, it was removed. All of Jesper, including his fingers and his hovering presence. A whimper slipped out of him and he didn't even notice, he was too busy staring at Jesper who had gotten up to grab more oil.
Jesper chuckled lowly, “I’ve got you Wy, I always have you,”
Wylan's heart did an odd thing.
Jesper quickly grabbed Wylan's thighs and pulled him out of his half sitting position so he was fully on his back with a pillow under his hips.
Automatically, Wylan wrapped his legs around Jesper like a cage, pulling him closer. Jesper shot him a smirk and Wylan couldn't help but smirk back.
Jesper's hands gently rested on Wylan's thighs as he aligned himself, he then looked up at Wylan, his eyes wild.
“Ready?”
“Please,”
With that, Jesper pushed in, slowly at first, allowing Wylan time to adjust. And oh was the feeling heaven-sent. Wylan gasped and moaned as Jesper entered him, warm and tight, he couldn't help squeezing around the length as Jesper sunk deeper into him.
“Saints, fuck, you’re so tight,” Jesper gasped out, pausing where his hips and Wylans thighs met.
“Mm, feels so- ah perfect,” Wylan basically purred, gripping the bed sheets. A few seconds later he added, “You can move”.
Jesper started a torturous pace, dragging in and out of him. With every rock, Jesper let out a small whine and Wylan basked in it. If he could hear that every moment he would. The noise alone could probably bring him to the edge but he really didn't need any more help.
“Faster, faster Jes” Wylan spoke with the little breath he had, he needed more, he wanted Jesper to take him.
With no delay, Jesper sped up his movements, earning a groan from both of them. Jesper gripped his thighs, pulling and tugging so that Wylan's body would meet his thrusts. Wylan tightened his legs grip on Jesper as well, spewing a series of nonsense out that were supposed to be words.
“So. Fucking. Perfect. Wy, ah- feel so. Good. Oh god-” Jesper managed to emphasize his words with each thrust.
Wylan's eyes rolled back and he let Jesper take him the exact way he wanted to be taken. He was so close.
“Jes, J-Jes, I-,” Wylan stuttered, trying to make sense of his own words but he was too lost in the pleasure. He suddenly felt a hand over his own cock, sloppily jerking him.
“Come baby, come for me,”
And what was Wylan to deny him that?
With a too loud moan, Wylan came hard and fast. He saw stars behind his eyes as Jesper rode him through it.
All too soon, Jesper started to slow down and stop.
“Keep…keep going, please,” Wylan muttered softly. He wanted Jesper to keep going, he wanted Jesper to bring him to the point of overstimulation and for Jesper to come inside him. He needed it.
Jesper paused but didn't pull out, “are you sure?”
“Yes…want you to chase your own pleasure baby, wanna keep going”
The pet name just slipped out, he swears. But it seems to have kick started something in Jesper because he picked up that same brutal pace, chasing his own pleasure while Wylan laid in utter heaven, enjoying the chilled burning sensation of approaching over stimulation.
The room was filled with hah, hah, ah, and slapping of skin as Jesper thrust deeply into him over and over. His legs shook with every push.
It also helped that Jesper wasn’t far from coming, because once Wylan was getting to the point of real pain, Jesper did one hard thrust and came with a loud groan, toppling over onto Wylan.
They stayed there for a bit, just enjoying the post orgasm feel before Jesper rolled off to clean them up.
Wylan stayed there, though. He closed his eyes and allowed a wet cloth to be wiped over him and ignored the butterflies in his stomach when Jesper left feather-light kisses over the bruises on his hips and the red spots on his collarbone.
He felt a dip in the sheets where he naturally rolled too, being stopped by his target. Arms wrapped around him gently, pulling him into a cuddle and he felt a kiss on the top of his curls. Jesper was incredibly hot, in many ways of course, but especially physically; he felt immediately wrapped up in the heat of the man above him.
“Well at least we aren't wet and cold anymore,” Jesper spoke softly.
Wylan playfully pushed away from Jesper, “how could you ever be cold? You’re like a radiator.”
Jesper dramatically gasped and grabbed at Wylan once more, squeezing them together, causing Wylan to laugh at the action.
“Where did your manners go? You were doing so well before,”
Wylan looked up at Jesper with a glare that didn’t do much when you paired it with how red his cheeks got.
But when Wylan tried to look annoyed, Jesper just looked at him with pure affection.
He couldn't even remember why he was supposed to be annoyed in the first place.
So instead of looking too deeply into it, he buried his head into Jesper's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck and closing his eyes.
Jesper strategically moved the sheets to be around them loosely and settled into the covers, rubbing his thumb over Wylan's lower back absentmindedly.
He could get used to this.