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"I don’t want him!" Hiccup immediately blows up, making the courtesan offered to him and the owner of the brothel, along with the other people in the common room, his father, the advisors, and the others who had given the offerings to the chief and his son, the war hero, startle at his voice. He grits his teeth at the owner, and the audacity he dare exhibit by offering a human being as a prize.
"Is he not to your liking, Our Hero?" The man, one named Hakon, inquires, looking at the courtesan and then back at the son of the chief. Hiccup grimaces inwardly at the title. He’s had enough of it, and it’s barely been a week. The only reason he even lets them is because his father thinks it right he let the people call him that, at least for the time being. "He’s popular to our clients but we have a number of other males if you prefer that. Unless you would rather a woman?"
Beside Hakon, the courtesan looks at him in part ire, relief, indignation. But what really hits Hiccup at the moment is the blankness that layers it all. There is a certain hollowness in his face that makes something clench in his chest, as if the courtesan—no the man has died inside.
Hiccup hardens his jaw. “No,” he says with a tone of finality, “I do not want a—a human offered to me, as if a mere gift, a cow tended for selling? I—”
Stoick brings a hand down his shoulder, pushing down hard in warning. He glares at the chief, disbelief raging high in him, but the other glares back just as hard, digging his rough fingers into the fabric of his clothes.
His lips thin to a hard line and he continues to look at his father for a moment, for another, before he quickly turns back to the two men and barely heaves a sigh. “I apologize,” he grits out, “the battle has worn me down a great deal and I am tired after quite a day. I did not mean to debase your offer and the past events and my tiredness seems to have caught up on me.”
"Perhaps it is best to let your man—"
"Jack, dear chief."
"Yes, Jack, stay a night with my son. I think it best to let him warm up to the idea for a day or two before he decides." Stoick digs even deeper through the fabric, especially when Hiccup shuffles upon hearing his father’s statement.
"I—yes, maybe a night with Jack will be good," he murmurs back. There is, at least, a night’s respite for the other away from the brothel. He watches as the brothel owner nudges the obviously cleaned man to the father and son. The man—Jack—acquiesces with barely a thought, and his face remains hopelessly blank.
Hiccup, having enough of this, looks back to his father and says, “I am tired. I would like to be free of my responsibilities for the day if that is fair?”
"It is fair," Stoick roughs out, though Hiccup can tell he will have a talk with the taller very soon. "Bring with you our brothel’s offering. Get to know him, and perhaps your decision will change."
Hiccup clenches his fist and bites down a ‘unlikely’ and turns away, the cape he wears flaring out at the spin. He looks back to Jack and softens his gaze. “Come,” he ushers, and waits for the other to follow him before heading up to his space.
It is much later, after Hiccup has gathered food for Jack and himself and had them eat, that he faces Jack to say—
Before Jack interrupts him with a plain, “I would rather you accept me.”
Hiccup flounders for a bit, opens his mouth and stops short, before finally he gets out, “you are not a gift for me to accept!” He fists his pants. “I doubt you want to be a mere—thing offered for sex.”
Jack looks at him, gaze hard. “But aren’t I just that?” Hiccup almost answers but he continues, “I’d rather be here, given to you as a ‘gift for your triumph’ than be turned back to that place.” He glares intensely, jaw locked tight, before looking away.
Hiccup stares at hims, speechless, and he finally takes the time to truly look at the taller. His hair is brown but dull, eyes darkened in tiredness and clothes thin. There are two dull scars on his left cheek, small that they are, and he doubts that those are the only marks left on him. He may not see it now but he knows that his right ear has been pierced, a dull copper color that the other courtesans wear on their right ear as well. He is handsome, he is quite a sight, and it is not hard to believe that he is a favorite.
"You care enough to think we’re not mere offerings, it wouldn’t be too hard to accept me to keep me away, is it?" He continues, but doesn’t bother looking Hiccup’s way again. His form, which had hardened in resolution, wavers.
It is silent for a while. Hiccup still caught at the image the other man is showing and Jack hunching more and more into himself and Hiccup can only assume the other deciding for Hiccup, that his answer is no. Finally, Hiccup raises his chin.
"If you think that way," he says, and Jack turns back to him. "If you think that way, then."
And it’s settled.