everymonstrousthing | (no subject)

In this moment, Jesper's pretty sure he could be anyone to Kaz but that's fine. He can see that Kaz's eyes are nearly black, his body is tensed and arched, and it's because of him. That satisfies him enough.

One hand creeps up Kaz's thigh, circling what Jesper's mouth can't take, stroking him.

The noise that he makes is broken, needy, helpess. He worries his lip with his teeth.

"I can't..." He's embarrassed by how quickly he's come to this point, but there's nothing to be done about it.

Jesper isn't terribly surprised. He's decent enough at this and Kaz hasn't had as much experience. It still pleases him a little to see Kaz Brekker like this.

When Kaz speaks, Jesper pulls back so that he only has the head in his mouth and uses his hand to finish him off.

Jesper doesn't back off, and Kaz supposes that he shouldn't be surprised. Jesper never did know when to walk away. His hips stutter. He's so close.

"Fuck. Jes."

Jesper hums in the back of his throat but doesn't pull off, liquid gray eyes flicking up to meet his. On his knees, he has to shift to palm himself. Kaz has called him that name a hundred times but right now, hearing it like that goes right through him.

He's not sure that he noticed before how beautiful Jesper's eyes are before, like silver. He whimpers, his hips lifting off the bed as he comes in Jesper's mouth, as he rocks up into his hand.

It's not always the easiest, swallowing, but Jesper's willing to do it for Kaz. He breathes in through his nose and waits until Kaz is fully spent before he pulls away, sitting back on his heels. Short of breath and caught up in watching Kaz, he doesn't think how obvious he must look now, his own hand against the tent in his trousers.

He sits there, his clothes rumbled, his cock softening and his skin still spit damp. He lets out a whimpering breath, pushing one hand back through his hair, sweat springing at his hairline. He swallows, his dark eyes fixed on Jesper, still on his knees.

"What else do you want?" he asks, his voice a raw rasp.

Saints, he's going to think back on this mental image for so many nights to come. Jesper looks at Kaz, eyes creeping over every sign of what he's done to Kaz Brekker, how he's been able to see him come apart. He's caught up in it and he almost doesn't hear Kaz. Even when he does, he has to replay it in his mind to make sure he heard right.

"What are you offering?"

Jesper moves to sit on the bed next to Kaz, leaned back on one arm and using his other hand to open up his pants, to grasp himself. He's not sure he believes Kaz will want to touch anyone. Will want to touch him.

Before he answers, Kaz's eyes dart downwards, watching the movement of Jesper's hand, the glimpses of his cock. He remembers how he'd felt, right before he touched Inej for the first time. He wonders if any of this would have been possible without her being here and then gone. He wonders if she's happy.

And then he makes himself look up.

"Anything you want," he says. Tomorrow, he might regret it, but, for right now, he's stripped bear. Here, entirely without armour. For better or worse.

Jesper laughs and manages to remember to be suave. "Don't make that offer when you don't know if I'm to your taste," he says, stretching onto his back, hips shimmying a little further out of his pants so that he can kick his clothes away and lie there naked. Kaz is still mostly dressed but in total disarray and Jesper is easy in his skin.

Stroking himself a few times, Jesper looks back to Kaz. "This is fin."

"Is it, though?" asks Kaz, and suddenly, he feels too drunk and not drunk enough. He rubs his hand over his face. He can't drag his eyes away from the long, naked lines of Jesper's body.

"Maybe never going to get this chance again." But he doesn't know. He doesn't know.

Jesper gives Kaz a dubious look then. For the length of their friendship, it's always been Kaz that tests Jesper and now Jesper has the upper hand, making a paradigm shift that sort of unnerves him.

"I don't know that you'd like it," Jesper says. "Because what I'd like to do is very intimate." He sweeps his eyes over Kaz, his sharp body, his soft prick. Kaz has no idea how much Jesper wants.

And one thing Kaz Brekker has never been able to back down from is a challenge. Even when it's the worst idea in the world.

"So try me."

Jesper leaves off stroking himself and faces Kaz as seriously as he can when he's bare-ass naked. "The last man I entertained here fingered himself open with me," Jesper says, thinking of Freddie's golden body. "And then he pushed me back into the bed and rode my cock."

Even now, the memory of it and the fantasy of Kaz makes said cock twitch, makes Jesper ache, but he still can't believe that Kaz will let him.

Kaz feels his face get hot, his breath hitch, when Jesper says that. Sex was never something that interested him, too tied up with closeness, with touch, but the world's different now and all of his cracks are showing.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He's a poor substitute for Inej in that way. Kaz can't have him the way he would a woman and there's no closing his eyes and pretending. Jesper takes Kaz's answer to also mean he doesn't want to and so he stretches out instead, body long and lean, and then returns his attentions to himself.

"I won't say no if you touch me," he says, gesturing at his own torso.

The touch, the first touch, is very tentative, a brush of his fingertips against Jesper's ribs, the edge of his nipple. Warm. Very, very warm.

"I didn't say no," he says.

The softness of it surprises Jesper, startles a gasp out of him, and he looks back up to Kaz. He's close enough to kiss but Jesper's experience with other men is that they hate the taste of his mouth after he's sucked them out, so he lays back and lets Kaz explore him.

Taking his hand off his cock, Jesper moves an uncertain hand up Kaz's bare chest.

"You didn't say you wanted it either."

"I don't know what I want, Jes," he says, quietly, just the edges of his nails touching Jesper's skin. "Just for tonight, it can be about you winning for once."

"Some things aren't about winning," Jesper says. All the same, he turns over and finds the lubricant he keeps in his nightstand along an opened box of rubber sheathes. Damned convenient, this modern age can be.

But saints, he wants this and that's reason enough to go as far as Kaz will let him. Jesper leans in and kisses his throat again, finding that spot that caught his attention before.

Jesper kisses his throat and Kaz lets his head fall back, just lets it take him for a moment. He struggles, ineffectually, with his skirt, tangled up in more ways than one.

In this, Jesper can take the lead. He pulls Kaz to lean up and pushes his shirt off his shoulders, lets it pool in a semicircle around him. He takes a mental catalogue of Kaz's scars, kisses the ones he can reach in a sloppy path to his nipple, tongue spreading flat against it.

Kaz groans softly at the wet hot swipe of Jesper's tongue. His back arches. He squirms.

Jesper sighs out and then kisses further down, tugging Kaz's trousers and underwear away so that they're finally both naked. He can see the nasty scar of Kaz's bad leg, all the other hurts and scrapes he's endured, the kind that litter Jesper's body too.

"It might be better if you lie on your side," Jesper says, uncertain. "Or your stomach."