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Jack was always a bit jumpy whenever people touched him.
He had gotten used to the feeling of hands on his back, a bump against his shoulders, meaningless things that went just as soon as it came— but it became a different story once it started to migrate from grazing of skin to arms around his neck.
He didn’t pull away, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t tense up every time someone greeted him with a friendly hug, that gentle embrace closing in on him as he stood still, joints dryly rubbing against each other as he awkwardly pats the other person on the back.
Years spent in isolation seemed to have made him forget what it was like to be seen. To be perceived as someone that could be reached out to, and he was still wrapping his head around that fact despite being well into his adulthood.
That was still true when it came to that damn Hiccup Haddock, the bassist of another band that were rivals to Jack's own.
Somehow, he had convinced himself that there was a clear line between having their lips connect and having hands touch his. Maybe the difference was that, whenever they kissed, he could close his eyes and lose himself in the moment— he would rather ball up his fists around the collar off Hiccup’s flannel, filling in the gaps of what lay underneath rather than actually finding out. It was easier that way, to be caged between hands pressed against the wall while they mouthed each other off.
Hiccup didn’t mind— for the most part. He could feel Jack in other ways. He knew the feeling of his lips, the cold surprise of metal on Jack’s tongue, or whenever they smoked themselves dumb with weed. Hiccup would find Jack pressing his shoulders against his, knees bumping against each other, hands so close as the other takes the blunt from Jack’s hand to take a hit, Jack mumbling something neither could comprehend as Hiccup let the feeling sink in.
At some point, that line began to blur as their feelings congested and intensified between them. They both figured out pretending like those glances they gave each other from across gig venues didn’t mean anything and would only last so long. The influence they would be under no longer came from alcohol or the buzz from cigarettes, but instead came straight from the heart.
Tonight, they were in Jack’s place again. Hiccup had been there enough times for their smoking spot to migrate from the living room to the confines of Jack’s bedroom, with the owner of the room leaning against the wall, and Hiccup facing it while beside him, both on the floor.
They kissed, like always, but this time there was much more intention behind it than the times before. Things were different now, somehow— they struggled but didn’t care to figure out when that happened. Jack and Hiccup had a habit of being stubborn, and it seemed that manifested best in the way they tip-toed around the boundary of friendship and whatever this is.
Hiccup leaned hard into the most contact he could ever get with Jack when it came to things like this, tilting his head in just the right angle to feel every inch of the lips he’s become to know far too well, letting himself fall endlessly into the moment without any plan of being caught. He was used to this, used to keeping his hands to himself, so his right one clawed at the wall in front of him just so that he would have some kind of support while the other stayed gripping his knee.
He just found they fit together so well, his lips against Jack’s, like the last piece of a puzzle he hadn’t even realized he was missing. It seemed he also didn’t realize his left hand was gently holding Jack’s shoulder as well, threatening to reach up.
“Hiccup,” The latter breathed, breaking the kiss momentarily before Hiccup instinctively interrupted him with another short peck, chasing the feeling.
Hiccup’s mouth stuttered, “S-Sorry—“ He was quick to pull away, but this time it was his turn to be interrupted as his heart hammered loudly against his chest once Jack held onto his wrist.
A brief blanket of silence fell over them.
“You can,” Jack bit his lip, eyes darting down to the hand held out whilst his chest heaved. Maybe to catch his breath, maybe to calm down his own erratic heartbeat, most likely both. “You can touch me.” Then he quirked the corner of his lip up, that smirk Hiccup had ingrained deep into his mind— though this time it was more nervous and shy than the mischievous glint it usually came with.
Hiccup blinked once, twice, before starting an unintentional staring contest with the wall. He had to make sure he heard that right, this was Jack he was talking to (or more accurately kissing). “Are… you sure?” His eyes darted to his wrist, held by long pale fingers. “I thought-“
Jack didn’t reply. Instead he looked up into Hiccup’s eyes, before nodding.
That was all Hiccup needed.
Slowly, oh, so slowly, he leaned forward, this time with his left hand making its way onto the crook of Jack’s neck. Hiccup took a split second to revel in the feeling, running his thumb across white skin flushed with red as he finally reconnected their lips.
Hiccup inhaled sharply through his nose as the kiss initiated his breaking point, bringing his other hand to hold Jack’s shoulder to pull him closer, lifting him slightly off the wall.
The kiss was gentle yet hungry at the same time, Hiccup held Jack in a way that he feared came off as desperate, but he couldn’t find it in him to care for more than a second.
Hiccup was holding Jack.
Hiccup was holding Jack.
Hiccup was holding Jack.
To think there would come a day that Jack had finally trusted Hiccup enough to even say this made Hiccup believe this was all a dream— but no dream could perfectly capture the feeling of Jack’s soft skin in his hands. Nothing could ever replicate the way Jack had his hand on his shoulder, wrinkling up his shirt before slowly laying flat across the surface.
Then, Hiccup had both his hands cupping Jack’s jaw on either side of his face, tilting his head and lightly pushing him back against the wall as he continued to feed off of the moment.
Every end of Jack’s nerves burned with the sensation of Hiccup’s calloused hands on him, on his face, lighting his entire body with the same burning warmth that Hiccup always seemed to radiate. In a way, it blinded him. Made Jack fuzzy and numb with a feeling he couldn’t dare name yet.
Soon enough, their lungs of steel caught up to them, and both withered with the fading connection of their lips sliding across each other.
They were both out of breath, drowning under the other’s gaze so deep it rivaled the ocean.
They stayed like that for a while, taking this chance to take a good lock of each other.
Jack had gotten used to sneaking glances at Hiccup, and only ever allowing himself to get lost in a trance whenever the other was performing onstage. At least now, it was only Jack who had his eyes on him. Here, where they were merely inches apart, sharing the same air, had he come to realize just how green his eyes were.
Freckles kissed Hiccup’s tan skin, and Jack wondered if he would be able to do the same. One day.
Hiccup liked looking at Jack the most. His eyes always wandered back to that lanky frame and stark-white hair. He admired the way his smile was always lopsided, how his eyes shined under the light along with the crows feet that wrinkled with it. His rosy cheeks, defined jaw that went slack whenever he saw something that he would definitely be laughing about later in the day.
If there was a god, Hiccup believed Jack had been molded to perfection.
“Something on my face?” Jack chuckled breathlessly, finally breaking the sweet silence.
“Sorry.” Hiccup huffed, thumb caressing the other’s cheek. “I just…” His lips tightened around the words that threatened to slip past, swallowing down his wishful thinking before leaning in. “I’m glad.” He settled for that instead.
He brings their lips together again, pressing a deep kiss.
“About?” Jack managed to hum before having Hiccup plant another kiss, which he was happy to return.
“Holding you like this.” Hiccup lets one of his hands go down to the back of Jack’s neck, pulling him closer, kissing again and again like it was the last thing he knew how to do.
Then, Hiccup leans back, looking into Jack’s blue eyes through his lidded ones, dazed. “…been wanting to for so long.” He admits, a bit bashful, but as honest as he could get.
Jack lets out a breath, one he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “I think I have been too.” He confesses, the hand that still laid on Hiccup’s shoulder playing with the two tiny braids the other always kept in his hair.
Hiccup smiles, “Good.” Before leaning forward for yet another kiss, though it surely won’t be the last.