everymonstrousthing | (no subject)

It's late. It's very, very late. And he has no idea what he's doing. He has no idea what he's doing.

He's not drunk - a little, maybe, but not enough to actually blame it. He's been at the club all day, finishing repairing the damage that he'd wrought with his cane. He'd thought about going home, but his apartment doesn't feel like home anymore, because home was on the tenth floor, with windows that opened onto the roof.

And what he is is lonely. And he's found something for that - not a cure. But a distraction.

And maybe it isn't fair. But what about life is?

He knocks on Jesper's door and then leans against the wall and waits.

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From:

materialnik

He breathes out and looks into his drink, searching for the right answer that will make this line of questioning go away, even if it's his own fault for starting it. "I was asking if you came over to get drunk and sleep on my couch," he says. "Or if you came over because you wanted to fuck."

From:

everymonstrousthing

"Oh, come on, Jes," says Kaz, and he sips the drink again. His shirtsleeves are shoved up to his elbows. Just the very edges of his tattoo shows. "You know why I'm here."

From:

materialnik

A lot of unkind words spring to mind but Jesper doesn't use them, because this is Kaz and he's always been stupid about Kaz. "Then we'll fuck," he says.

From:

everymonstrousthing

"Don't put yourself out on my account," says Kaz, raising his eyebrow at Jesper's tone, punctuating with another swallow of his drink. "It's not like I'm in charge anymore."

From:

materialnik

"You know better than anyone that it's no hardship for me," Jesper says. He puts on his best smile and lounges in his chair, long legs bent over one of the sides. Add a cocked hat and he would have looked much like his old self, lounging at the Crow Club or the Slat.

From:

everymonstrousthing

"I do know that."

It's not in his nature to apologise. It's not in him to say that he regrets being gone before first light, the last time he was here. He doesn't know how.

From:

materialnik

"Then we'll have pizza and get drunk and fuck around," Jesper says, as if that's that. It's what Kaz wants and Jesper will certainly enjoy it.

From:

everymonstrousthing

Which is why he came here, isn't it? Kaz feels something warm relax inside himself. He takes another sip of his drink.

"Don't pretend you're not into having your wicked way with me again, Jes."

From:

materialnik

"Oh, I'm wicked now, am I?" Jesper asks, smiling. Of course he is; they both are. Relaxing further into the chair, Jesper finishes his drink.

From:

everymonstrousthing

"Why else would I be here?"

There are plenty of reasons why he'd be here. There's no one left in this foreign, ridiculous world that knows him like Jesper does.

From:

materialnik

"Not my pleasant company, that's for sure." Jesper keeps his smile on but he's relieved, too, when a knock on the door sounds the arrival of the pizza. Jesper comes to the door again and pays the man, tipping generously for the lateness even when he ought to put some of that money aside for the sake of his debts.

From:

everymonstrousthing

Kaz drains the last of his drink and leans forward. He fidgets with his gloves, debating putting them back on to eat. He might be better, a little, with skin touching his, but he's still fastidiously clean, dislikes the idea of grease on his fingers.

From:

materialnik

Jesper gets plates from his kitchen and, noticing how Kaz fidgets, also knives and forks. He intends to simply eat his out of the box but leaves the cutlery available for Kaz to take advantage of, making no comment while he eats his first slice.

From:

everymonstrousthing

Gratefully, he reaches for silverware, using them to eat. It keeps his hands clean, even if it doesn't look quite as easy as Jesper eating it straight out of the box.

"They might not know how to cook potatoes, but this is good," he comments.

From:

materialnik

"I'll have to see if I have a skillet. Maybe I'll learn." He can cook, actually. Back in Novyi Zem, he and his father both shared the duty and they'd managed simple things. Enough not to starve to death anyway.

From:

everymonstrousthing

"I haven't gotten them right, yet, but I'll keep trying," he says, taking another bite of his food and chewing thoughtfully, trying to ignore how content he feels.

From:

materialnik

Jesper laughs at the thought, if only to suppress how nice it would actually be to sit around like this all the time, trading jokes and cooking. His father had often told Jesper to get himself a wife so that he'd stop landing in trouble and have a reason to be home early. He's never found one and doubts that anyone could keep him home and domestic.

He goes into the kitchen to mix yet another drink to shake the thought away.

From:

everymonstrousthing

The food is good and Kaz feels himself warming, settling. He watches as Jesper moves around the apartment. He doesn't say anything, but he watches.

From:

materialnik

Jesper hands Kaz another drink, this one mostly sweetened red wine, and pours one for himself. When he sits, this time, it's on the sofa next to Kaz with their thighs pressed together.

"Cheers."

From:

everymonstrousthing

Jesper sits close and Kaz doesn't pull away. He finishes his pizza and sips at his wine. He leans into the touch a little.

"This is good," he says, raising the glass.

From:

materialnik

"I try." It feels good, having Kaz lean into his touch like that. It's the smallest form of affection, but it's still more than most can claim from Kaz Brekker. Pushing his luck, he traces a fingertip over the back of one of Kaz's hands, finding the shapes of bone and veins beneath the skin.

From:

everymonstrousthing

It's the tiniest touch, but Kaz's breath catches, all the same. He flexes his fingers, just a little, just so Jesper can feel the movement in the back of his hand.

From:

materialnik

Of the two of them, Jesper would say that Kaz's hands ought to be Grisha ones. His own hands are smudged and burned from a lifetime of work and gunfire but Kaz's are elegant, not dirty or scarred or deformed, no matter what the legends insist.

"They call you Dirtyhands, but you ate with a knife and fork. Very proper."

From:

everymonstrousthing

"I don't like the feel of the grease on my skin," he says, uncharacteristically honest, his nose wrinkling. He shrugs. "The myth of it was useful though."

Jesper knows what Kaz is capable of.