everymonstrousthing | (no subject)

Kaz lets Jesper lead the way. It isn't the first time that he's been in Jesper's apartment but it's the first time without Inej, and that makes everything different. Once he's inside, he shrugs out of his jacket, leaves himself in his shirtsleeves, looks down at his gloves for a long, long time. Irritated, he passes one hand back through his hair and lowers himself down onto the couch.

"Not too late to turn me out onto the street, Jesper."

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From:

materialnik

"Didn't we just agree I can never walk away from a bad hand?" Jesper asks. He puts himself into the kitchen, which doesn't have much by way of food but plenty by way of alcohol. With a bit of flourish, he starts mixing up something strong and troublesomely easy to drink. The kind of thing for a bad day.

From:

everymonstrousthing

Still looking down at his leather gloves, that strikes Kaz as faintly amusing and he huffs a laugh, a barely there sound of amusement. He flexes his fingers.

"Where would you go if you did?" he asks. "I never felt trapped by Ketterdam, but...here?"

From:

materialnik

Jesper laughs and tries to brush off the idea, not terribly keen about introspection. "If I were smart, I'd get my ass back to the university my father wanted me to attend. But we both know where I'd end up. I love Ketterdam and its distractions."

From:

everymonstrousthing

"Seems like there must be plenty of distractions here, too, if you know where to look for them." He fiddles with his gloves, the cuffs of his shirt. It's amazing how quickly he got used to flimsier things when Inej was around to watch him; now, he feels contained, bracketed, constricted. He leans his head back and closes his eyes.

"Guess I'll need to look for a new distraction now." Inej had been so much more than that. They both know it.

From:

materialnik

It's the sort of Kaz he knows well, appreciates even. Jesper isn't stupid enough to think Kaz doesn't know and probably manipulates his fondness, his loyalty, his attraction and Jesper knows he's probably getting used more than a little, but it's the kind of thing he'd signed on for when that crow and cup tattoo went on his forearm.

"I'm sure you'll find lots of pretty and handsome ones in Darrow. I have."

From:

everymonstrousthing

"I'm sure you have." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he glances up at Jesper. "But you know me. Never bothered visiting the girls."

From:

materialnik

"Always wondered about that," Jesper admits. Had always hoped that it meant he might have a shine for men but Jesper knew better than to advertise such a preference too loudly, both because Ketterdam is only tolerant to an extent and because Kaz would have been merciless about it.

From:

everymonstrousthing

"I bet you did." It had, in the end, become part of the myth, the legend of the Bastard of the Barrel. If nobody ever touched him (and gods knew that he couldn't stand anyone to touch him before Inej reminded him how warm living flesh is) then nobody could ever carry the truth back - that there was nothing wrong with the palms of Kaz Brekker's hands, but everything wrong with his brain, with his heart. "Just never saw the point. Other things to do."

From:

materialnik

Jesper huffs a laugh and pours the cocktail into a glass through a strainer. With that continued bit of flourish, he sets it in front of Kaz before returning to pour one to himself.

"You're not an easy study," Jesper says, taking the seat opposite Kaz.

From:

everymonstrousthing

After a moment, Kaz leans forward and lifts the glass, taking a sip. It's sweet and sour at the same time, with a reassuringly alcoholic kick. He studies Jesper for a moment.

"By design," he says. There's not enough alcohol in the world to get him drunk enough to tell Jesper all of his secrets, all of his truths, but it feels close to impossible to going back to being a tightly locked door.

From:

materialnik

"Never doubted that," Jesper says, finding he doesn't like how Kaz appraises him over the rim of his glass. He has the sudden fear that he might end up devoured and doesn't like it. Tamping down on the thought, he diverts his gaze to his drink, swirling with novelty glitter vodka that tastes deceptively sweet.

"I can't picture you without that design," he admits. "Figured that hell spat you out the way you were a few years back and you carried on."

From:

everymonstrousthing

"You're not that far from the truth," admits Kaz. He can be honest about that much, at least. He looks down into his ridiculous drink again, knocks back another swallow. "And nobody knows what's under that design except her." He looks down at his hands. "What do you think is under the gloves?"

From:

materialnik

Jesper shrugs. "I saw them, at the Ice Court. They were hands." Long-fingered, elegant, and dextrous. If there's dirt on them, they're not on Kaz's skin, nor are there any scars.

"I think it's a sure bet that you won't tell me."

From:

everymonstrousthing

"Not like you to recognise a sure bet," he says. He isn't ready, probably will never be ready, to tell Jesper about Jordie, about his father, about Pekka Rollins. He keeps those secrets inside like scars. Still, he takes another sip of his drink and then sets his glass down. One by one, he carefully peels off his gloves.

It's something, at least.

From:

materialnik

Just as before, Kaz Brekker's ungloved hands are simply that. The bones are visible and there's a faint tan line that had only just begun to fade, the gloves leaving their pale impression on his skin. Clever hands, beautiful hands.

He sternly instructs himself away from that line of thought.

"Still hands," he says.

From:

everymonstrousthing

"It's not what you'd hear in the Barrel," says Kaz, and he allows himself a smirk, flexing his fingers. "Scars, claws, bloody palms." He shrugs. "Every monstrous thing in the world." He tilts his head. "So why don't you ever look as scared as they do, Jesper?"

They both know he knows the answer to that.

From:

materialnik

"Skin, bones, veins," Jesper says. He starts to reach out and then remembers himself. No one touches Kaz Brekker and comes away with whole fingers, except for maybe Inej and her absence is the problem.

From:

everymonstrousthing

His breath catches before he can school it. In the Barrel, in the whole of Ketterdam, people had known better than to touch Kaz Brekker. It was a sure way to lose a hand. Here, though, things are different. Here, though, he's remembered that not everything is cold and waterlogged and dead.

And once that breath has shivered out of him, he can't take it back.

From:

materialnik

Jesper looks at him, brows raised and uncertain. That breath, small and afraid, is not what he'd expected. A slap maybe, a broken arm from that cane, but not a look that speaks to Jesper of fear.

"Are you going to talk about it? Or not talk about it? Your call."

From:

everymonstrousthing

"Talk about what?"

He picks up the glass to give him something to do with his hands, takes another sip of his drink.

From:

materialnik

Jesper smiles a little too sharp and nods, having his answer then.

"Another drink?"

From:

everymonstrousthing

Kaz nods. He drains what's left in the glass and then holds it out to Jesper, eyebrows slightly raised. He's achingly aware of the fact that he's not wearing his gloves.

From:

materialnik

For once, Jesper displays an excess of caution, a form of respect he really only affords Kaz, and doesn't touch him as he takes the glass.

"What kind of cocktail?"

From:

everymonstrousthing

"Surprise me," says Kaz, absurdly grateful when Jesper doesn't even let their fingers touch. "Something strong. I don't feel numb yet."

From:

materialnik

"If you regret it, I'm going to remind you that you gave me that free pass," Jesper says. He disappears into his kitchen to mix another drink, briefly flipping the bottle in his hand.