Archive of Our Own ^beta

 Jesper whined as he squirmed on the chair again. It dug into his skin despite being cushioned, and the wood felt too rough on his bare back. "My nose itches!" He protested.

"It’s only been two minutes. Be patient!" Wylan snickered, reaching to his left to grab more blue paint. "But fine. You can scratch it but don’t move anything but your hand."

When Jesper had agreed to be Wylan's muse for a painting, he had expected he would have to be still for him to paint. But now presently doing it? It felt like torture.

"Thank the Saints!" He breathed out, moving to scratch his nose before bringing his hand back down to where he hoped was the same place. It was a fairly simple pose. He was leaning back on the chair. His right leg stretched out while resting the ankle of his left leg on the right knee. He placed his right arm curling around his ankle, gently holding it in place. Jespers left arm was draped across his chest, coming home to rest on his opposite shoulder. He was shifted at an angle, his head tilted so that while he wasn’t directly facing Wylan, he could see him if he turned his eyes to the left.

They were both seated in a corner of the library where a desk of the past used to be. Now, a corner creating new memories. There was a large window with rays of warmth hitting Jesper and Wylan to the left of them. And behind Jesper, books lined the shelves, going up at least ten rows. Books that would last a lifetime. Maybe even longer.

Jesper had made a promise to Wylan that he would read every single one to him.

"Why did I agree to his again?" He asked, adjusting in his seat again. 

"Because you love me."

"Ah. There it is."

Wylan rolled his eyes, cracking a smile. He had assured him movement was bound to happen, and his comfort was above everything. The process shouldn't take longer than two hours, but could always stop if needed. That should have brought comfort to Jesper, but instead, it brought a sense of authority. Jesper had to be perfect. He had to stay still. He couldn't mess this up. He didn't understand why his brain went in that direction but once it was set on an idea it was hard to break away from it.

"You're fidgeting." Wylan's voice said, a title wave shocking him for a moment.

"What?" Jesper asked, eyes glancing up to meet Wylan's. Jesper wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Time for Jesper either sped through or felt like an entirety. It could have been an hour already, or just mere minutes.

"You're rolling your ankles and tapping your fingers. You want a break?"

He wasn’t aware he was even doing that. "No." Jesper shook his head as he stopped his rolling leg and fingers, despite the itch to move them nagging at him. "No, I'm fine. We can continue."

"You sure? I really don’t mind. I got most of the sketch done anyways so if­—"

“It’s okay. We can continue" Jesper smiled softly. This was for Wylan.  He agreed to this. Jesper should be happy to be modeling for his husband. Be thrilled. But this was all a new experience for Jesper. He was not a stranger to being bare in front of others, but to be studied so carefully. 

"Alright...Just know we can take a break if needed. I can always reposition you."

"I’m fine love. Just keep painting my beautiful body."

Wylan smiled at that, head ducking down into his world.

Jesper wished he could go into his own world as well. Not stuck in a swarming avalanche that was his mind.

“How…” He started to speak, frowning for a moment. It got Wylan’s attention either way.

“Yes?”

Too late now to backtrack. “How can you sit and paint the whole time? You’re asking me about breaks, but what about you?”

“Honestly? If you weren’t here, or I didn’t set reminders I would be here for the whole day. I don’t even notice I’m hungry, or tired at all.”

“Really?”

Wylan nodded, setting the brush down. “Whenever I get really focused on something nothing else matters in that moment. That task becomes the only thing on my mind. You should have seen me when I was still in the Barrel.” He hummed, although there was now a hint of sadness. “Kaz needed these new bombs in a few days. I could have easily spread the work out amongst the days, but I had the whole week off due to Nachtspel. Of course, I had no one to…celebrate it with, and it never was my favorite holiday, so I got the order done in ten hours straight with no breaks, and then the next day I asked for more work.”

“Saints.”

Wylan chuckle. “I know. I know. Maybe I was distracting myself, but having that sense of structure, a consistent routine that I could repeat over and over again…I liked it. Despite the situation. It was a break from the world and my own body. Even before the Barrel here, I would get so focused on music sheets, or painting that before I knew it, the staff would have to come remind me I was late to dinner. The whole day passed in the blink of the eye.”

“And now?”

“Well, if we were to be here for six hours, I am sure you would remind me well ahead of time. That and I know I need to focus on you as well. Not just this.”

Jesper smiled softly at that as Wylan started to paint again. It was vaguely similar to experiences he had. Although even while immersing himself in things he enjoyed, he still couldn’t fathom doing the same task for six hours straight. But this was just as much a gift to Wylan as it was for him. So, if it took six hours, Jesper would gladly do it without a second thought.

"Checking in. How are you doing?" Wylan asked after more time had passed. Jesper wasn't sure how long that had been, however. He had tried to count the seconds in his head. One...Two...Three.. but by the time he got to minute three, Jesper had given up. The task already daunting and exhausting.

"Mmph." Jesper nodded, fighting all his urges to not bounce his leg. Or twist his rings, or scratch his skin. Why did it feel so itchy all of a sudden? It was like tiny needles were pricking him all over and— focus Jesper. Focus. "How's my nudes coming along?" That wasn't technically focusing, but it was better than drowning in silence, and he loved seeing Wylan's face turn a bright red over the easel.

"I- I mean you don't technically see anything–" He blabbered. "I- I mean your hand at this angle is covering—" Wylan looked down at the paintbrush, his eyes flickered to something darker. "But it’s still early enough to...move it...If–If you want of course. I mean not that early—I would have to paint the hand again but if you..that..”

It was Jespers turn to turn a dark red, chills tingling down his body. Four years together and Wylan always found new ways to surprise him. He already had declined the cloth Wylan had offered, and that idea did spark interest. This was already vulnerable and intimate. Both agreed it would be something just for them, no one else would see it. But as Wylan had said, in the position he was in, his arm was covering everything. If he did decide to move it, there was no one else Jesper would trust than Wylan.

In his past, he would have reeled in that idea. But now? He wasn't sure. It wasn't like he was ashamed of who he was. Jesper was proud of himself. He didn't want to hide who he was anymore. But that was also before he had met Wylan. Before he knew there was more to love than just stickily sex, rushed meaningless words of condiment, or even false promises of not being used as just a body to please others with. It was a time when Jesper thought the only way you could be intimate with another, was with sex. But the truth of it was this was intimacy. The closeness of being together, the truthfulness of themselves to share. Trusting the other with your whole body and feeling safe—That was intimacy. 

Even now, being a muse for Wylan to paint, it was all focused on him. How he felt, his comfort. It was an overwhelming sensation for the man. Wylan wanting to worship him. Not tear him apart and leave him for scraps for the pigeons to feast upon. Maybe that’s why Jesper didn't feel pressured to please him. Even if that voice danced through his mind, constantly rummaging through each scenario of a future that could happen. There was no push. No fear in saying no. For Wylan, it was just a simple offer. An idea of what could be, if chosen.

"I am tempted. But I’ll pass this time. If this is going to become a collection, however, maybe in the next painting you could be used as the muse. Cloth on. Or off." Jesper smirked.

That made Wylan’s face as red as the rich paint he was using, and that was all Jesper needed.

More time ticked on by as Jesper was only surrounded by his mind. That pull was still prominent but was lesser than before. Of course, his mind was never quiet. It had been plagued with thoughts of the day overlapping one another.

Saints I'm so bored.

I wonder when we will finish?

  Did I send that letter out to my da?

We did start at noon. Surely this shouldn’t take the whole evening. Maybe I can take Wylan out to that Ravkan Cafe again.

                                         Stop complaining about how you feel!

We should visit Alys, Bajan, and Plumje again soon. How old is Plumje turning again? Three?

                                       Inej should be porting in two weeks. I should get her a gift.

                                                                                               I did send the letter out!

                                                                     I'm hungry

Jesper was never one to just...stop. He always needed movement. That tug to do something with his body and mind constantly. It felt odd to just...let go and only be with his thoughts.  He didn't know if it was terrifying or calming. When he still went to university, Jesper felt like drowning. Each move he was doing was somehow wrong. Asking for seemingly simple questions that everyone else understood, drowning in assignments that for some reason Jesper could not finish, and being berated for acting like a child when making too much movement. How he was "distracting others" by just simply existing. It was all too much for him to handle.

He didn't understand why he couldn't be normal.

It was so easy for him to feel like giving up, to feel like a failure each day. Maybe that's why it was so easy to slip away into the Barrels and forget his university life. No one snapped at him for drowning, because everyone was drowning together in their own ways.

As more and more time went on, Jesper's limbs soon stopped tingling, and now felt heavy. A consistent weight that was dragging him down. As he watched Wylan continue to paint, tunnel vision seeped through him and each moment, each flick of the brush, each quiet hum of a tune Wylan was singing made everything feel like a dream.

It felt weirdly peaceful. Time was still passing, life was whizzing outside this mansion. But here, in this moment it didn't exist. For the first time in his life, Jesper felt as if he could sit back...and not exist.

There was never a time when Jesper knew peace, it was always fast-paced. From still living on the farm with his da, to joining the Dregs. When was the last time, if anywhere could exist in his own universe, without any need to focus on the world around him? Maybe that was what Wylan meant when he could be pulled in for a project for hours on end. Unlike before however, he had to keep some of his attention in the living world for Jesper.

"I finished," Wylan said softly, almost like a faint murmur through piles of blankets.

For a moment, Jesper didn't want to move again. It felt calming. For the first time in his life, his mind was calm. He only existed at this moment.

"Jesper?"

He snapped out of his trance, glancing over to Wylan. "Hm?"

"I finished."

Jesper blinked, the words processing for him. "Oh. Wow." He felt tired, but not in the tired he was used to. Jesper hesitated for a moment, not wanting to move. It felt like he had just woken up from a sleep where he was dreaming with his eyes open. Finally, he moved to uncross his legs and his arms to stand.

"Remember to stretch. You haven’t moved for a while."

"How long was that?" Jesper said, rolling his shoulder before bending his leg behind him, using his arm to pull before doing the same to the other.

"I think almost three hours. It went longer than I assumed. I apologize for that.” Wylan said before smiling softly. "You seemed relaxed."

"It was agony at first." Jesper laughed rolling around his neck until he heard a satisfying crack. "I hated it. But...I don't know. I agreed to do this, and you seemed...really happy. It felt like I was zoning in instead of out. Does that even make sense?"

Wylan snickered. "I know exactly what you mean. Do you want to take a look? It still needs to dry so don't touch it and I may come back later to add more details, but I’m happy at where it is."

He nodded eagerly and walked over. As he approached Wylan, the first thing he noticed was the spots of paint dotting parts of his hands and face. It was a habit with Wylan while painting. Sometimes he would forget about the paint on his fingers and when he would move to scratch or rub his face, the paint would smear onto him. He looked like a living canvas.

"You going to look at the painting?"

"I'm looking at one right now."

Wylan giggled at that, face flushing red as he looked away. A bashful smile spread over him. Even after all this time together, Wylan still became gleeful at each compliment. “But of course,” Jesper continued. “I didn’t pose for three hours for nothing.”

He turned to where the easel was, and his jaw dropped. Of course, he was expecting a masterpiece, amongst other talents, Wylan was skilled with painting, a gift carried down by his mother. But this…It was memorizing, beyond anything Wylan had ever made. It was him. It was like he was looking through a mirror, but the way Wylan saw him. Each bush stroke was fine, colors danced around in their own ballad. Blending together but also striking a force to make others stand out. The light from the windows cast down across his bronze skin making it appear to shine like gold. One dot of white on his eyes made them come to life and he was sure if he stared long enough, the painting would begin to move.

He looked like a Saint.

A Saint frozen in time.

"Jes?" Wylan giggled. "You've been quiet for a few minutes.”

He blinked for a moment. Turning back to his husband. “Sorry.” Jesper chuckled. “It’s just…this is how you really see me?"

"Of course it is." Wylan hummed, reaching over with his paint-covered hands to take Jespers into his own. "It’s beautiful, just like you."

He took another moment to look at the painting, laughing to himself. "Saints Wylan. I mean— This is your best work yet! I made it better of course-" Wylan snickered. "But this—And what was that you said before? You were still adding more details? This isn’t even the full product? Maybe I should have you draw me more. All of me that is.” He grinned out. Jesper still couldn’t believe the man he was staring at was a reflection of himself. “I mean Saints! This looks like the drawings back in the palace in Ravka! You should consider doing a side hobby of drawing kings. You know Kaz would be thrilled to be paid again by Nikolai, Maybe you could paint his portrait and I’m rambling. Aren’t I?”

“Very much so.” Wylan giggled. “But you do have a point. I learned by studying all the paintings around the house…most of which were commissioned by the same artist I’m assuming. Then again I feel like Kaz would somehow bribe me out of all the money the king would give me if I ever were to paint him…and he would steal that painting and pawn it off for more.”

“That’s why we love him.” Jesper said as he continued to look at the painting of himself.

This was how people would see him. Wasn’t it? What would happen in 100 years? Another 400 years when Wylan would be long gone and Jesper wasn’t sure where he would be. This is how he would be remembered. A face to his legacy. But unlike his reputation, unlike wanted posters of him.

He was given a chance to step into Wylan’s eyes.

How was it that Wylan could see someone like him this perfectly? This beautiful?

"Because you are beautiful Jes."

Oh. Did he say that out loud?

“I will gladly paint a thousand more paintings solely of you Jesper to remind you of how beautiful you are. How stunning and…and gorgeous you are.”

“Well don’t go making me cry now merchling.” Jesper teased, blinking back the tears that filled his eyes. Who knew a painting would make him this emotional?  "I love it so much. Thank you." He moved to brush Wylan’s curls out of his face, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. His other hand moved to gently cup the side of his chin.

After a few moments, the two pulled apart while Jesper’s hand stayed, now caressing his cheek. "Next time though I am definitely painting you in any way you see fit." Jesper was not a painter in the slightest. Even if he spent five hours painting Wylan it could never look at this.

Jesper may not be able to make Wylan look like a saint, but he sure wanted to make his husband feel like one.

Wylan smiled out, reaching out to Jesper's face as he wiped the now-smeared paint off his cheek. "I would love that more than anything."