everymonstrousthing | (no subject)

"Are you going to be able to pay for it?" asks Kaz, raising his eyebrows but he does smile, too. "It's more or less ready. Should be able to open next week."

"After all the drinks I've made for you, don't I get one freebie?" Of course he doesn't. Kaz is a smart leader and he's, foremost, a businessman. Giving away drinks to friends is not good business.

"You could always just stop making me drinks," says Kaz, smirking against the rim of his glass. "If you're worried."

Jesper laughs and toasts Kaz with his own drink. "And then accuse me of being inhospitable? Isn't there some god or saint that stands against that?"

"I am not the person to ask," says Kaz, smirking. "Never did care enough about what the Saints or the gods think about me."

"That's because you do your best to convince everyone that you're a god already." Jesper drains half of his glass and waits for it to hit him, the oblivion that sends some of the edge and fear away and makes them more certain of themselves.

"You don't think I am?" Kaz grins, crooked, tilts his head before he takes another sip of the drink. They both know why he's here, but neither of them are going to be the one who says it.

"I think you do an excellent job at being a demon. And sometimes you scare the shit out of me," Jesper says. He swirls the drink in his glass, watching Kaz sidelong.

"So besides strong drinks and poor conversation, what can I do for you?"

And this is the edge, isn't it? This is where he's teetering. He knocks back a large gulp of the drink.

"Was hoping you'd let me stay."

"When have I ever denied you anything?" Jesper says because it's the truth. He knows that it's a dangerous thing to say but Kaz will find a way to get his end no matter what.

"It's a good point," says Kaz. He raises his glass in a lazy toast. "But you can say no, Jes. I'm not in the business of forcing my attentions."

He knows that but it doesn't change Jesper's own problematic level of devotion. "Is that why you want to stay over?" When he asks it, Jesper tries to be casual but fails to hide the eagerness in his eyes.

Kaz's weighs it up - how little he wants to be beholden to someone versus the look in Jesper's eye and how much he wants, just then. He nods.

"I was going to order food. If you're hungry." He hasn't eaten since morning, too caught up in the games and then the paying of debts but he can put that aside if Kaz wants him now. If he doesn't then they have a convenient buffer.

"We can eat first," says Kaz, and the domesticity of it scares him, a little. The admitting to it, the not needing to be so drunk he doesn't question it. He doesn't say anything like that to Jesper, though.

"Pizza?" The suggestion feels appropriately casual. It doesn't require cutlery or plates, which pulls away some of the formality of actually having a meal and a conversation before they fuck.

He's taken to pizza, since arriving and he nods, draining the last of his drink and leaning to set down his glass.

"I just wish I could find one place that did decent fucking fried potatoes around here."

"The pancakes here aren't made right," Jesper says, equally disappointed in what he's found. They're all too big and too fluffy without the right sweetness.

At least pizza hasn't let him down. "What toppings?"

"I can make pancakes." It's a skill that he's always kept secret, never discussed. "You can decide on the toppings. I'll eat anything."

For a moment, he has to hide the fact that he's a little stunned at the idea of Kaz doing something so domestic as making pancakes. He pictures it, Kaz over the stove, his sleeves rolled up as he flips one in the air.

Jesper's mouth goes dry and he isn't even sure why, so he drains his drink and laughs. "I'll get you a poffertje pan on your birthday, then."

That actually raises a genuine smile, that rarest of things. He pushes one hand back through his hair.

"Do I get another drink?"

Jesper forgets himself for a second, just watching that smile on Kaz's face and enjoying how perfect and rare it is.

"More of the same? Or something new?"

"Surprise me," says Kaz, which is starting to feel like a running joke between them now, a thing that he says when he means something else. He leans forward and grabs the glass, holding it out to Jesper with eyebrows slightly raised.

Jesper takes the glass, fingers sweeping against Kaz's in the barest touch, and heads back to the kitchen. While mixing up a drink, he orders the food, and then comes back out. The drink in his hand it a sparkling one, turned rose-colored with juice.

"It's called a Bellini."

It's delicious, sweet and sharp and Kaz raises his glass in a toast before taking another sip, making a soft, pleased sound against the glass.