some more trans wylan wesper smut snips to tide you freaks over until i finish it … 18+ content ahead!
“Breathe, sweetheart,” whispered Jesper against Wylan’s chest, licking a long stripe down toward his belly button.
“I’m trying,” Wylan huffed. “You’re making it hard.”
Jesper hummed. His fingers undid the button of Wylan’s pants, letting them fall loose around his hips. “Let’s get these off.”
Rolling his eyes, Wylan shimmied a little. “Hurry up,” he groaned. He watched as Jesper's eyes darkened, and then spoke again. “Please?”
“Only because you’re so pretty,” Jesper said, sliding the pants down and off of Wylan’s legs. “God, look at that.” His fingers touched the outside of Wylan’s boxers, a wet surface meeting them. “Dripping.”
“Tease,” gasped Wylan, his hips bucking toward Jesper's fingers.
How of course Van Eck would support him. It better suits Van Eck anyway, Wylan's transition. Having a girl as an heir is ridiculous, girls can't run businesses.
So, he supports Wylan's transition. Of course he does. He always wanted a son
But then when Wylan can't read, that's when the problems arise
First & most important, thank you to a friend for sensitivity reading this (not putting a name because I don’t have permission to do that, but you know who you are <3). Even so: I am a cis writer including a trans character, so if there’s anything wrong or inappropriate in the fic, please tell me. It is never my intent to cause anyone offense.
TW: misgendering (some out of ignorance, some less so), allusions to suicide attempts
This place was too cold. Jesper lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, with the covers pulled up to his shoulders. The crocheted blanket didn’t really keep him warm. As he tried not to die of boredom, he slid his fingers into the gaps and out, wriggled them all the way through and—
Crap.
He looked at the blanket. How had his knuckles made it through the weave only to get stuck?! Jesper tugged at it, but ultimately needed his other hand. His stitches hurt when he sat up.
It wasn’t like he had nothing to do, either. His homework was right there. A guy couldn’t even have appendicitis these days without a little APUSH reading to go along with it.
He poked at the stitches and resolved not to do it again.
The hospital was a boring place. Presumably the surgery itself had been a little more exciting. Jesper barely remembered it. How was that for a bit of luck?! One of the most exciting things to happen in a guy’s life and he was all delirious! So now he sat on a semi-comfortable bed in a too-cold room. He had a window, at least, not that he could see much through it. A curtain was drawn across the room long-ways, like he might get jealous of that empty bed and… and race them or something. Yeah, like rig up an oxygen tank and have a two-bed hospital race, that would be cool!
He wasn’t going to, but it was fun to imagine.
Jesper knew he should do some reading. Exams and all that. But he knew it was pointless, to. His mind would wander after a few minutes. And if he was being honest, he didn't actually want to study. Didn't he deserve a break? A proper sick day?
So he leaned back and decided if he was stuck on his own, he might as well entertain himself. He sang to himself. He started with “Walk the Line”—picked up courtesy of his father, who hadn’t even been born when it was first released, but played Johnny Cash all Jesper’s childhood.
It was a good song, anyway.
Jesper waited a moment after the end of it, pausing for an imaginary audience.
“Thank you so much, it’s an honor to be here tonight. Now, for my next hit, this is ‘Party in the CIA’ by Weird Al Yankovic…”
And obviously he had to do a few moves, it was a song that just begged for finger-guns, imaginary sunglasses, and pretend tie-straightening. He limited the moves after an objection from his stitches, but that in no way limited his good time. Except, Jesper had only got to a line that always got him—“We got snazzy suits and ties/and a better dental plan than the FBI’s!”—when he heard… laughter.
Jesper stopped the song.
“What the—I thought I was alone!”
There was no answer.
“Well, now I know I’m not, so you might as well speak up.” And ideally his roommate could confirm his age. Jesper was seventeen, so they had stuck him in the pediatric ward. He hoped he wasn’t bunking with a kid—that would be… weird. Plus he’d have to work on not cussing.
“H-hey,” said the other guy. He sounded a little younger, but Jesper couldn't be sure.
“Hey! So you like Weird Al?”
“Who?”
“Weird Al Yankovic. Never mind, never mind. How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Cool, I’m seventeen. So what’re you in for? I had my appendix out.” And his roommate was close to his age, so he had someone to hang out with! Jesper glanced at his APUSH book, then back to his fingers tugging at the blanket.
“Did it hurt?”
Jesper hadn’t initially said it was appendicitis. He hadn’t known. He thought he just felt miserable, but he didn’t want his parents to worry. By the time he couldn’t pretend anymore that he was okay…
“Nah. They knocked me out, anyway. I’m just bored.”
“Me, too.”
“Want to play Twenty Questions?”
“Sure. You pick something first.”
“Got it. It’s a person.”
The game continued for a while. It wasn’t Jesper’s favorite game in the world, but it kept him occupied—that and toying with the blanket—even as they got into an argument over whether or not “a field” counted as a thing. It totally did, a specific field would have been a place, but this was a kind of place, which was a thing.
“No, a place is a place, you can’t just decide a place is a thing!”
“Yeah, if it were a specific place, but it’s not a place. It’s a category of places.”
“So a room would be a thing, but this room is a place?”
“Glad we agree.”
“That is ridiculous.”
Jesper laughed. He was about to retort that it wasn’t ridiculous, it was logical, when the door opened.
“You look cheerful,” Aditi Hilli reported, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Good. Just cold and my stitches are itchy.”
“Itchy means healing,” she said, smoothing a hand over his hair.
“There you go, siding with medicine again!”
He knew she only had a minute. She wasn’t treating him, that would be a severe conflict of interest, but she had found time in her shift to stop in. So Jesper didn’t waste time groaning. He didn’t even put up a fuss when she hugged him.
“Are you dizzy or in any pain?”
“No.” It was a medical question, but he understood that it was a mom question, too. It was a how are you question with more detail.
“Have you—”
“Ma, I love you, but I am not talking to you about pooping.”
“Honestly, Jesper, I changed your diapers.”
“Ma!”
“After an appendectomy—”
Jesper grabbed the pillow and wrapped it around his head like massive earmuffs as he informed her, loudly, “Not listening! Not listening!”
She shook her head at him and checked his chart. Okay, fine, she knew she could get that information. He still didn’t want to have the actual conversation. Seriously, was nothing sacred?
She set down the chart. He set down the pillow.
“I’m glad you’re okay, little rabbit.”
Jesper slumped just slightly. It was easy to shrug off being sick, but he knew his parents had genuinely been scared. He should have told them earlier, but that was easy to say in hindsight. But he was already enough of a disaster. Telling them meant giving them one more thing to worry about, and he had expected to hurt for a while and recover on his own.
“I love you, too. I’m fine, I promise, just… bored. Do you have my tangle? Or my zippers?”
“No, but your father’s coming to see you after work. He wanted to stay but I knew you wouldn’t like him hovering.”
“Thanks for taking care of us.”
“I’ll ask him to look for your things. Do you know where they are?”
“Um… y’know… I think I have a couple bracelets in the bathroom, and my tangle might be in the back pocket of my jeans. I’m sick,” he reminded her, playing up his ‘sick face’ to avoid hearing about how he needed to clean his room. He knew that. He didn’t mean to leave it a mess, he just kind of… forgot. The mess was organic.
“I’ll ask him.”
She kissed his forehead and left. There wasn’t a lot of down time in hospitals. Well… there was. But it all went to patients.
After a moment, Jesper said, “So… you heard that.”
Great. His anonymous roommate had heard his ma talking about his messy room. Among more embarrassing things.
“She seems nice,” his roommate said. “My mom’s a nurse, so I’m used to… you know, being asked about symptoms.”
“Great, I can’t wait to hear about whether or not you’ve pooped.”
“I’m not here for poop-related reasons.”
Jesper laughed.
***
It was much later when his roommate’s mom visited. Jesper’s da had been in and gone. Like Aditi, Colm was glad to see his son recovering. He had a more frank, less clinical way of saying how worried he had been. He brought Jesper a hat and socks for the cold, and two zipper bracelets and his infinity cube, so the nothingness of the room stopped grating on his nerves quite so badly. The feeling was difficult to describe—it was like having this emptiness building up against him so he couldn’t find a space to exist.
Jesper would always find something to fidget with, but knowing he had dedicated fidgets at hand softened an edge.
The roommates couldn’t see each other, but they could both see the door, so Jesper saw the woman with curly red hair come into the room and head over to his roommate.
“Hey, sweetpea.”
“Hi, Mom.”
That was… not his roommate’s voice. This voice was softer, higher, and a little nervous. Jesper couldn't help having his interest piqued by the shift. Sure, Jesper changed his tone with his parents, but he still sounded like Jesper. His roommate sounded like a stranger.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay. I… ———… we love you.”
Well, damn, his roommate was a girl! Jesper thought back over their conversation, searching for anything he might’ve said that he maybe shouldn’t’ve.
“I love you, too, Mom.” She sounded like it hurt to say.
“If this is about what your father said the other day, he… he needs you to be patient with him.”
“Okay.”
“He’s trying.”
Jesper was, by now, sitting very, very still. He knew this conversation wasn’t meant for him to hear, but in a small room, he couldn’t exactly not hear what was said a few feet away. So he tried to stay quiet and not make them feel self-conscious—and, if he was being completely honest, he was curious.
“Why do you excuse everything he does?”
“He’s not perfect, but he loves us. You’re still his little girl.”
“Okay.”
“———.”
“Could you just leave me alone, please?” said his roommate, in what Jesper could only describe as an amazingly rude way.
“———.”
“If you had to lose me or leave him, who would you pick?”
“That’s not fair.”
Jesper’s roommate said nothing.
“I’ll come back later. I hope you feel better then.”
Jesper settled back on the pillow and closed his eyes, doing his very best impression of sleeping. The door opened and closed, and they were alone. He stayed quiet for a moment, absently turning his infinity cube over and over in his hand. He had wanted to go back to talking with his roommate… but now he didn’t know what to say. That had been a heavy conversation to just ignore.
Then he realized his roommate was crying.
“Hey,” Jesper said. “———?”
She didn’t answer.
“You okay?”
“That’s not my name.”
“Oh.” Jesper looked at the cube, clicking idly in his hand. He had no idea what was going on. “My name’s Jesper, but I guess you knew that since my ma visited. You want to play twenty questions? I got a good one. C’mon, you’ll never guess!” he wheedled.
After a moment, his roommate sniffled, then asked, “Person, place, or thing?”
***
“I feel wronged.”
Jesper snorted. Yeah, that was about the most accurate summary of their current situation. He still hadn’t seen his roommate, but they called to each other across the curtains. The entire situation looked brighter in the morning light. Jesper felt better. His body was rapidly putting the surgery behind him.
Even sunshine couldn’t fix the picture in front of him, though. Last night, his da had brought him food from home. No such luck today: Jesper sat up in bed, mournfully regarding the hospital’s breakfast tray.
He lifted the toast and gave it a shake. It wriggled.
“I think they steamed the toast,” he said.
His roommate laughed. “Think they toasted it first?”
Jesper set the toast aside. “You eating yours?”
“I can’t.”
“Me too. The apple looks okay.”
“Looks are deceiving things.”
Jesper bit into his apple and shuddered. He carefully removed the piece of fruit from his mouth, trying to pretend he hadn’t felt that mealy hellflesh.
“Cereal and milk it is!” he announced. “I got Corn Flakes. You?”
“Rice Krispies.”
“This is blatant favoritism and I won’t stand for it!”
“You just had surgery, you’re not supposed to be standing at all.”
“Wow,” Jesper said, not at all appreciating that. It was true, but… wow.
He poured the mini box of corn flakes and carton of milk into his bowl. The breakfast tray was a depressing sight. There was steamed toast and an apple that was an insult to other apples. Still, at least he had juice to look forward to and the jello had been pretty good.
Halfway through his Corn Flakes, he asked, “So what are you in for, anyway? I had my appendix out.”
“I was sleepwalking—it’s dumb. I thought I was eating Skittles.”
“What were you really eating? Steamed toast?”
“Aspirin.”
“Oh, shit.”
“I was sleepwalking.”
“Yeah, totally,” Jesper said, trying to sound like he believed it.
A while later, once the salvagable parts of breakfast had been endured, Jesper’s roommate appeared around the curtain, leaning on an IV stand. She was small, the sort of girl who looked like she would never be more than 5'. She had freckles and a curly red-gold ponytail, and if Jesper was being completely honest, she was cute.
“Want to play cards?” she asked.
“Um—I…”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s cool.”
“I have a gambling problem,” Jesper blurted out. “I can’t… it’s really… I have a problem. But if we keep it chill?”
“Sure. How about Go Fish? No one gambles over Go Fish.”
Gamblers would gamble over anything, but she sounded so sweet and optimistic, he didn’t want to ruin her bright outlook.
“Sounds good.”
She sat on the end of his bed and dealt.
They made it a few rounds without chatting much, then she said, “I’ll tell you my name, but you can’t tell anybody.”
Jesper wanted to ask why she was trusting him, but instead said, “I won’t.”
She leaned nearer and whispered it. Jesper had suspected something like this. He appreciated having it confirmed. Now that he knew, he rearranged his thoughts about his roommate to use the correct pronouns.
“Wylan’s a cool name.”
Jesper’s roommate smiled at his cards, a smile that was determinedly interrupted with a scowl.
“Not as cool as Jesper,” he continued, “but still pretty cool. You want to play again?”
By that afternoon, they had both seen their mothers again. Wylan’s mom seemed to really love him, Jesper thought, even if she did use his deadname. The visit still left Wylan withdrawn, but Jesper talked his new friend into another round of Go Fish. It wasn’t such a fun game. It was about the company, though said company remained gloomy. He had a scowl like thunder.
“Here, I have an idea.” Jesper pulled off his beanie. “Do you want to…?”
Wylan took the hat, pulled it on, and tucked his hair up under it.
“I hate feeling it,” he said. “That’s probably stupid, but I hate it! It’s stupid. You have long hair and you don’t look like a girl!”
“You don’t look like a girl, either. And you don’t sound like a girl, I thought you were a guy until I heard your mom say your name. Which now I know isn’t your name,” Jesper added.
The stormclouds began to disperse.
“When I was a kid, I used to imitate cartoons.”
“Oh yeah? Can you still do it?”
Jesper didn’t have to hear the answer—which was just as well, because Wylan didn’t give him one.
“Do one for me! C’mon, just one.”
Wylan shifted, keeping his eyes on their forgotten game of Go Fish. Then he said, “Meep meep!”
“Pfft, Road Runner doesn’t count.”
“Road Runner’s a cartoon!”
“You said one word and it was onomatopoeia!”
“Okay, yeah, but… okay. Okay.” Wylan took a deep breath, settled his shoulders, and stared at the sheets with a deepening blush as he said, “Duck season! Wabbit season! Duck season! Wabbit season! Wabbit season! I say it’s duck season, and I say, fire!”
Jesper laughed. “That’s really good!” he said. He wasn’t laughing at Wylan, but because the impression was so good, almost like different people when Bugs and Daffy spoke. Besides, the cartoon was a classic. Wylan must’ve known, because he smiled.
some trans wylan rambles bc im brainrotting on my modern roommates au (mentions of transphobia below)
i don't think Jan Van Eck would take Wy being trans well. I totally understand the point of view that he would be happy to have a son and not a daughter, and i've considered it, but i think overall he's the type of person to want a 'proper' son. imo, he'd never see Wylan as a boy, at least not properly. especially if he spent all of Wylans childhood getting used to the fact that he had a "girl," and cultivating Wylans public image to be the perfect daughter. and him being born a girl would give Jan another cover up to why Wylan couldn't take over the family business, because he's totally the type to think girls can't run things like that. so he could use that as an excuse over Wy's dyslexia. i just don't think he'd ever fully accept Wylan as his son.
in happier headcanons, the Crows never once doubt Wylans identity. I like to hc Kaz as trans sometimes too, and I think that since Kaz probably would be out longer than Wy, he would help him get everything he needs to transition however much he wants to. Also Nina cuts his hair bc. yes. that is canon in my fic. she is the haircutter of the house. Jesper loves his boyfriend to death and is always there to support him when he's on his period or having a bad day with dysphoria. bc Jesper is a king. king shit right there. Wylan steals Jespers sweaters bc they're big on him and make him feel good
ok thats all for now but ermmmm i really need to continue writing this fic. i think the first chapter is published already....? if u want the link just let me know :)
