Archive of Our Own

Contentness slinks through Hiccup’s veins like a calming tankard of mead on the eve of Snoggletog, warm as can be, with his body loose and swaying from laughter as he clumsily positions himself over Jack’s torso. Jack giggles at him from below, cheeks flushed from joy while he tries to catch his breath, and Hiccup snickers at him some more. The bed is plush beneath his hands as he carefully maneuvers over the sheets, teetering. Old furs lie tangled at the foot of the bed where he kicked them out of the way, and foam dips under his elbows as he balances his weight, trying not to crush his boyfriend. 

Once Hiccup is positioned above him properly, he puffs a spent-out breath. Jack chuckles again from beneath him, and Hiccup looks up, taking the opportunity to rove over his pretty features. The curtains on the east wall window are safely shut specifically for this moment, blocking out the luminescent pillars of coral as well as numerous nosy dragons that might get in their way. His armor is also laying in a pile on the floor so that they’re both comfortable. It gives Hiccup the ability to really appreciate the man underneath him. His beautiful boyfriend.

His hut in the Hidden World is low-lit, with glowing strings of flora lining the ceiling, and a lamp shining bright on the nightstand. It adds the perfect golden hue to Jack’s snowy skin, making it sparkle like early morning sunlight in February. Hiccup is enraptured by it. By him. Jack, pale as can be, with his stark brows softening more and more the longer he stares up at Hiccup. The shadows of Jack’s small smile also line his features just as beautifully, and Hiccup hones in on that too, humming in appreciation. 

After a second, he finally looks into his lover’s eyes for permission, momentarily getting distracted by the way that light hits the pretty blue, and Jack huffs, nodding. Hiccup waits a couple seconds.

Then he drops his entire body weight onto him. 

“Ohf!” Jack groans as all the air is punched out of his lungs, and Hiccup chuckles cruelly into his neck. He nuzzles his pulse point with love. Jack wheezes. 

“Hey, I thought you asked for this?” Hiccup laughs at him, and Jack groans again. 

“Yeah, yeah, you win this one,” he croaks. Then he wraps his arms around Hiccup’s ribs, sighing loudly. His body bonelessly sinks into the mattress, muscles unwinding one by one until he’s just a puddle of goo melting underneath Hiccup’s weight. Jack groans happily.

Hiccup chuckles into his neck once again, before kissing the tender spot beneath his ear. The skin is cold and silky beneath his lips.

Jack shivers at that, arching into him, his nails snagging on the back of Hiccup’s shirt, and Hiccup chuckles even louder. His breath fans against the cool, pale skin, before he peppers more kisses to the spot as a response. He inhales, lips lingering on that single sensitive pressure-point while he tries to get him to do it again, and Jack squirms, making a little sound.

He smells so good, Hiccup muses. He layers more sticky kisses over the area, biting briefly, before sucking. Like fresh cedar and the woody sting of frankincense. Hiccup likes the way it clings to his clothes, his hair, his skin. But mostly he likes the way it hangs in the air as the stubble on his chin scrapes roughly at the soft skin of Jack’s bare neck, leaving little trails of red where the scent sticks most. He loves the feeling of the abrasion, the scratch. 

He licks one of the trails just because he can, Jack’s throat jumping against his tongue, before Hiccup tucks it back into his mouth to give a chaste kiss to the other side of his neck, trying to calm him down again. Jack whimpers.

Obviously it doesn’t work.

Jack taps his back frantically. “Okay, hey, hey, hey, take it easy big guy—easy on the rookie, I work with kids,” he commands, and Hiccup stops obediently, pulling back. “Holy—” Jack pants, but doesn’t finish. 

Hiccup blinks. His eyes travel over the flowing valley of Jack’s face, brows ticking up smugly. Jack is the picture of beauty: with his chest heaving for breath, eyes pinched shut and face twisted up in overwhelm all prettily—red blush a lively painting covering his cheekbones. The way frost sparkles on his skin in the golden lamplight? That? Yeah. It hasn’t gotten any less gorgeous than it was two minutes ago. 

He’s so lucky. 

Hiccup hums then, and smiles, before he decides to card a hand through his white hair to soothe him. Jack leans into it with a sigh.

It’s so soft, Hiccup appreciates.

Gathering his thoughts, Hiccup pushes the hair out of Jack’s face and kisses his forehead instead. “Mm,” he echoes against him, then pulls away. He looks down again to the wrinkle in Jack’s brow falling lax, and the tension in his eyes unraveling. Hiccup rakes his fingers through the white strands tenderly. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Definitely. I can do that for you, baby,” Hiccup says. “Not that I’d call you a rookie, but…” He pauses to shrug a shoulder. “Ehhhh, that’s semantics.” He grins.

Jack sighs again, tilting his head further into Hiccup’s hand. The cool press of his forehead as it bumps into Hiccup’s palm is grounding. “Mn.” His shoulders loosen the more Hiccup pets him, so he keeps going, letting that white hair tangle all the way up to his knuckles. He sifts it around. 

“Thank you,” Jack finally replies. Then he reaches a hand up to capture Hiccup’s wrist from his hair, pulling it down to kiss the veins. Hiccup’s heart drops into his stomach at that, and his face starts to heat up at how sudden it is. His heart flutters against his ribcage pleasantly, though, and a shy grin pulls at his face. 

Yeah. He’s the luckiest man in the world.

Jack keeps his lips pressed right there, eyes cracking open to reveal that gorgeous blue, and smiles against his wrist. He threads their fingers together. “I love you,” he murmurs to him, and it hits like a Gronckle blast. The last syllable falls from his lips with the weight of ten hidden worlds, before Jack kisses the back of his hand.

Hiccup stops. His heart gives a hard lurch, a single thump behind his ribs. “Wh—?” He forgets to even breathe, the suddenness of them bouncing around in his mind. 

It’s a minute before he finally inhales again, and blinks. “Oh, I didn’t…” he croaks weakly, but he doesn’t finish.

I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Hiccup thought he’d never hear that again. 

Then Jack frowns, staring at him, and Hiccup fumbles. He looks between them. Those eyes. Those ice blue eyes that used to be so, so brown, and his own eyes start to water in desperation. He searches them, his mouth going dry, throat bobbing, wanting there to be some sign that Jack understands—that he gets it—but there’s no recognition. No—thought, that reveals the actual significance of the statement. 

But there is! There is significance!

“I love you. Don’t ever do that again,” when they were 15, after Hiccup woke up from the fight with the Red Death.

“I love you so much, you idiot,” laughing when Hiccup came crawling back to Jack after failing his first trick with Toothless.

“I love you, but you need to think about these things, Hiccup!” when Hiccup got injured during his first run in with dragon trappers. And so many more ‘I love you’s after that. Then:

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be alright, handsome. I love you. I’ll see you next year. I’ll be back before you know it,” when Jack, 19 years old, left that summer to go back home. 

2 years of waiting for another I love you. And then realizing he wouldn’t get any more.

His throat bobs again. 

Hiccup can’t—

He can’t—

His lungs constrict painfully. Until finally, Hiccup’s breath stutters back into action with a weak rasp, and he hides his face in the dip of Jack’s collarbone. His shoulders tremble with laughter as his tears drip down to that gorgeous, icy neck, and Hiccup swallows, voice pitched awkwardly—only a little bit hysterical. Guilt settles in his gut like iron. 

He’s the biggest drama-king in existence. Toothless was right all along.

“Hiccup…?” Jack asks. He rubs his thumb over the back of Hiccup’s hand. 

Hiccup swallows. “Wow, uh.” He sucks in a shuttering breath, nearly choking on his own spit. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “My bad. Guess I’m back to being the village wimp,” he finally jokes, then lifts his head. Jack’s brows are pulled down in concern, the corners of his lips tugged into that cute pout Hiccup’s always loved. It makes Hiccup smile. “I just—just never thought I’d hear that again.” He sniffs and laughs a little.

Once he’s finished speaking, Jack finally relaxes into the mattress, before he rolls his eyes knowingly. He smiles at him warmly, and Hiccup’s heart jerks. He just can’t get over that blue. “No, no, hey.” Jack scrunches his brow like Hiccup is being silly. “I’ll say it as many times as you want,” he comforts, then tugs on the back of Hiccup’s shirt. Hiccup numbly lets himself be led. “C’mere.” Jack pulls him down until he’s buried in the crook of his neck. When Hiccup situates himself, sighing as he nuzzles into that pulse point for the millionth time, Jack presses a kiss to his head. 

He murmurs into the strands, “It’s gonna be alright, handsome. I’m not going anywhere.” He wraps his arms around his shoulders, cold, cold, cold. It’s so nice. “I love you.” Hiccup shudders, cuddling deeper, and Jack squeezes him. “I love you, Hiccup.” The words are a balm on aching muscles, a dip in the river after a hot day. He buries his face deeper.

Tears burn behind Hiccup’s eyes, stinging and sharp. They roll down the bridge of his nose and slink sideways over his face as he curls closer into Jack’s neck. Hiccup inhales choppily, swallowing around the thick lump in his throat, and tries to focus on the vibrant scent of cedar clinging to Jack’s skin. He lets the cloying freshness burn in the back of his throat—holds it there for as long as possible, until his muscles finally collapse into mush. 

He slumps against Jack’s body and heaves a sigh. 

Eventually, after the tears settle down, Hiccup kisses Jack’s neck again. “I love you too, baby,” he whispers into it. He takes another deep breath, and the cedar burns in his lungs. “So much.” He kisses the spot again, exhaling. “You—you don’t even know, Jack. I love you—” Hiccup nuzzles into his heartbeat, listening to the thump-thump-thump, listening to the evidence of Jack finally being here with him. “—with all my heart,” he finishes shakily, voice cracking, and his throat bobs tight.

Hiccup stays there. He stays, and he sinks into the cool sensation of his tears turning to frost on Jack’s skin. Sinks into the softness of it, how different it is from the rough glide of dragon scales. Sinks into the solid weight of Jack’s hand on his spine, sinks into that ever present, ever permanent scent of cedar, and sighs. He goes limp, and Jack slowly runs a hand down his back.

Then Hiccup huffs. “Ah. I’m—sorry.” He sniffles. He lifts himself up onto his elbows, avoiding eye contact. His gaze lands on Jack’s staff where it’s propped up against the nightstand, right next to his prosthetic. There’s a small chip on the side, the cut clean on the dry, spidery wood. “I—I didn’t mean to—” He lifts his shoulders in gesture, searching for the words, but he doesn’t find anything suitable. So he looks back at Jack. Jack’s face is pale and gentle. “Yeah, I’m just sorry,” he grimaces, lowering his head. This is a new level of wimp for him. 

Jack tuts at him. “Hey—no. No, no, I’m sorry.” He tucks Hiccup’s hair behind his ear, brows furrowing. His finger traces the cartilage delicately as he stares at Hiccup’s face, lost in thought. Jack opens his mouth, then closes it. Then he sighs, and drops his hands to his sides in defeat. They clench into fists. “I just—I just wish I could’ve—I should’ve been here sooner.” He scowls. “I should’ve—” The amount of vitriol in his tone startles Hiccup out of his melancholy, and he blinks at Jack in surprise. “If I’d just—If Manni had just woken me up sooner—” he gripes, and Hiccup blanches.

“Hey, hey, hey, woah! Wait a minute,” he interrupts, waving a hand to shut down that train of guilt. He shifts on top of Jack gangily, trying to get more comfortable, and then levels him with a look. Jack pouts. “Don’t do that. Don’t go blaming yourself. You had no choice in this, baby,” he tries to say, and brushes Jack’s hair out of his face.

Jack rolls his eyes to the sky, groaning. “I’m not—” 

“You are. Why else would you be using the ‘I should’ve’ or ‘I could’ve’ statements?” he says. Then he huffs. “Look. It seems like we both have our own issues surrounding… this.” Hiccup gestures. “So why don’t we just—put it behind us. It’s not either of our faults. We didn’t—we didn’t decide for it to happen this way,” he says. “So let’s. Let’s leave it in the past. I’m not mad at you—I’ve never been mad at you.” He brushes Jack’s hair out of his face again, frowning, and his brows twist. He’s at a loss. Hiccup doesn’t know how to comfort him. “You’re—everything, Jack, and I’m not about to throw that away over a silly round of ‘what if’s,” he finishes seriously. But when Jack rolls his eyes at those words, Hiccup freezes, back tensing. Something coils tight in his chest. 

That’s not the reaction he was expecting.

“You can’t mean that,” Jack mutters, and Hiccup frowns at him. 

“Actually, I am being very, completely serious right now,” Hiccup argues. 

Jack’s dark brows are still lowered. “Do you honestly think that? That it’s fine? That I didn’t—” 

“Yes,” Hiccup responds insistently, and his muscles shake with restraint. “If I can’t be sorry, you can’t be sorry.”

Then Jack asks, “But aren’t you angry?” And Hiccup’s patience snaps.

“Oh, for the love of—” He throws his hands up, and takes a deep breath. “Of course I’m angry!” he finally yells, and he rolls off of Jack to sit up. His sternum aches. Hiccup gestures behind himself. “I’ve—I’ve cursed at the moon for centuries! I’ve never—I’ve never forgiven fate for taking you away from me! I’ve never forgiven Manni!” His throat strains, and his eyes burn. Then he brings a hand to his chest. “I’d sit for hours at a time, wishing that he’d chosen you alongside me, begging him to bring you back too, so that I wouldn’t be alone,” he curses, and he has to take a minute to calm down. His shoulders heave, rising and falling like grey ocean waves against the cliff-side. 

When his breathing evens out though, he continues in a softer tone, “But I am not.” Hiccup turns back to look at him, and Jack blinks, wide eyed. “I am not, ‘Mad,’ at you, Jack.” He implores, grabbing his hand, “I was never mad at you. Please. I don’t—” He breathes sharply. “I don’t want to spend the rest of our time together cursing the Man in the Moon for keeping you away for so long, when I could be spending it happy, cherishing you,” he begs. “Do you understand? Of course I’m angry. But I don’t want to waste something good. Don’t—don’t make me do that.” Hiccup ends, “Don’t make me waste this. Not when I just got you back.” And finally, he’s finished with his outburst. 

Then Jack gets really quiet. Like ‘Hiccup can hear the house shifting’ quiet. For a considerable amount of time, there’s just nothing. The walls groan, dragons outside trilling, and Jack just stares. 

Hiccup’s gut twists, shame pooling in his stomach, and he grimaces. Gradually, his back begins to tense, slowly curling in until his chin drops far enough that he’s fully facing his lap instead of Jack. It gets to the point where he regrets ever opening his dumb mouth. 

Jack blinks at him a couple more times, mouth parting, but even then it takes a while for anything to come out. And when it does, it’s just: 

“Oh,” Jack says, and Hiccup bites his lip. 

He looks down at their hands, tracing the back of Jack’s knuckles with his thumb. They’re so cold the veins are purple. “Oh?” he hedges nervously, peering up at him. And Jack stutters. 

“I just—I didn’t—I didn’t think… well I don’t know, I just assumed that you’d be mad at me, or something. It wasn’t fair,” he clarifies. “It isn’t fair. Still. I’m angry. I can’t believe I made you—” 

“‘You’ didn’t do anything,” Hiccup corrects him, and Jack rolls his eyes. He props himself up onto his elbows with a huff, and wriggles on one arm to face him better, fighting against the twisted sheets. When he finally manages to get on his side properly, he looks at Hiccup with pleading eyes. He drags Hiccup’s hand to his chest and places it over his heartbeat, where it thumps behind his ribcage strongly, drumming a constant, steady rhythm. 

Jack looks at him as he brings Hiccup’s hand to his lips, then, kissing each of his knuckles. On the last one, his eyes close reverently, brows twisting, and Hiccup’s heart flutters again, before Jack puts his hand back over his chest, opening those pretty eyes once more. Jack’s pulse still thrums beneath his palm when he murmurs, “Well I’m sorry anyway.” His voice is hoarse. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

The tightness in Hiccup’s face softens, and Hiccup sighs tiredly. He swallows, leaning down to prop himself up on his elbow, level with Jack, and takes his hand away from Jack’s heartbeat to run it down his arm instead. He puts effort into truly feeling the glide of his hand over the sleeve, into listening to the rasp of his calluses on the fabric. 

There’s so much comfort in the fastness of Jack’s bones. In the stability of his body. Hiccup relishes the fact that he can touch him—that his hand isn’t passing right through him like it would anyone else. He squeezes his bicep gently, and marvels silently. He’s real, and solid, and here.

Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs little circles into Jack’s shoulder, and Hiccup stares at the way the navy fabric wrinkles under his touch. Like little ripples. “I’m sorry too,” he says to him. The center of his chest stings with emotion. Then he looks Jack in the eyes, blue, blue, blue, now. “I love you, Jack. That hasn’t changed. Not once. Not in a thousand years,” he promises. Then Hiccup, unable to take the aching anymore, huffs and pitches forward, kissing Jack’s cheek, then his chin, his nose, before finally going up to his lips. 

Jack hums deeply and meets him in the middle, sliding his arm over Hiccup’s shoulder to pull him into a slow kiss. Hiccup’s brow twists. Their lips slot together as Hiccup’s hand settles into the dip of his waist, and he uses the leverage to drag Jack further into his arms, pressing their torsos close, and closer, desperately, until their ribs are fully pressed to each other. Then Jack slides his fingers through Hiccup’s hair, tugging a little, and Hiccup grunts into their kiss. He pants. When Jack tugs a little harder, his stomach plummets, and Jack giggles at him. So Hiccup nips on his bottom lip in revenge. 

They keep kissing. “Tease,” Hiccup mumbles into him, and he slides his hand up and down Jack’s waist. It’s Jack’s turn to shiver, moaning. Hiccup snorts, “What happened to ‘easy on the rookie’? I’m trying to be serious here.” He trails kisses down Jack’s jaw, moving down his neck. The skin is nice and cool against his lips, and so, so soft. Hiccup bites it, teasing it between his teeth, and runs his tongue over the section gently. “This moment is feeling very one-sided,” he murmurs, and Jack pants. 

“Can’t a guy—” Hiccup sucks, and Jack’s breath hitches. Then Hiccup goes back to plain kissing. “Can’t a guy change his mind?” he says, and that’s it for him. 

Hiccup holds his breath. His lungs stutter. He tries to hold it back—he really does—but he snickers. He hides his face in Jack’s neck, trying to shut himself up, but his composure starts to break. “You?” he chokes in faux disbelief, distractedly peppering more kisses over the skin. The kisses are entwined with sharp chuckles in between, though. Hiccup struggles to breathe. “Change your mind about something randomly instead of sticking to one option?” he asks. He smothers a snort into Jack’s hoodie, and his shoulders start shaking. “No, no, I’ve never heard of that,” he finally manages to soothe, and lifts himself up to continue pressing kisses into his neck, giggling all the while. 

“Aww,” Jack cajoles, breath hitching again as Hiccup nips the meat of his shoulder. “You don’t think I can stick to something?” he teases. His body shakes with silent laughter as he tilts his head back. Hiccup doesn’t even need to see him to know he’s smiling. 

It makes him grin into Jack’s neck. “Oh, I didn’t say that,” he refutes, shaking his head humorously. “Not quite, anyway.” Chuckling, he places a lingering kiss on the crook of Jack’s jaw, and murmurs into the skin, “You’re the biggest boar head I’ve ever met, baby. So stubborn. I love that about you.” Hiccup then bites the spot playfully, before releasing it to keep talking. He gives a little scritch there as a reward for sitting still. “Your ability to choose, however… Questionable.” He shrugs. 

Jack snaps up and cracks Hiccup in the head with his chin. “Ow—!” Hiccup flinches to rub the top of his head, backing away.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Jack demands, and Hiccup looks up to find Jack scowling down at him.

Hiccup grumbles, “What, is this gonna happen every time I tease you? Seriously? ‘Cause, I gotta say—” He gestures to Jack’s chin. “—getting hit in the head with that jaw of yours? Not a very pleasant…” The corner of Jack’s mouth twitches, before returning to seriousness, and Hiccup peters off. “...experience,” he finally finishes, narrowing his eyes. He blinks at Jack’s trembling shoulders. “You’re messing with me,” Hiccup realizes. 

Jack snickers at that, ducking his head as his shoulders convulse, and Hiccup scoffs at the ceiling. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is,” he starts, and Jack finally breaks down and laughs, which gets Hiccup to smile. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Hardy har har: trick the thickheaded viking. Hilarious. Outstanding.” He rolls his eyes. Then he grabs Jack by the waist and pulls him close, making Jack laugh harder. He curls into Hiccup’s neck endearingly, having to hold himself up by Hiccup’s shirt, face red as flames. He cackles, and Hiccup snorts at him. “You know I’m gullible,” he chides, and Jack wheezes. 

His laughter is infectious, and makes Hiccup’s heart bubble up with happiness. His body feels light, and airy. It’s like he’s floating on air. Glowing. And before he knows it, Hiccup is holding back laughter too, stomach quaking. His smile feels unbreakable. 

He looks down at Jack amusedly, watching him laugh, only the top of his head visible. His shoulders are shaking, and his face is buried into Hiccup’s neck, but Hiccup can still just barely see the adorable blush on his ears peeking out from beneath his white hair. It makes small tears rise in his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

He chuckles breathily.

Hiccup has missed this so much. His heart might burst from how happy he is. Finally being able to talk to Jack after all these years—hold him again? It’s unbelievable. He’s so grateful. 

“That’s the fun part,” Jack laughs cutely, shaking. His eyes even start watering against Hiccup’s neck, and that’s when Hiccup decides he’s got to try calming him down. His smile persists, though.

Hiccup rubs a gentle hand over Jack’s back, slowly smoothing over the top of his spine, then down. “Fun? There’s no fun in this house,” he joshes. “What are you talking about?” 

Jack sobers up at that, pulling away a little to grin at him. “Hey now—fun is in the job description. You can’t take fun away from Jack Frost,” he pronounces, like that name means anything.

Hiccup chuckles again, continuing to rub a hand over Jack’s back. For some reason it feels like his shoulderblades are missing something, but Hiccup can’t put his finger on what. The muscles just feel oddly flat. “I can’t take—what?” He laughs. “Who says I can’t? And who—who is this Jack Frost character? ‘Job description’? Catch me up here,” he says, smiling confusedly. Now he’s interested.

That seems to make Jack upset, though, because he frowns. “Wait. You don’t—you don’t know?” he asks, and his brows lower. It confuses Hiccup even further. “You’ve never heard of—?” Jack cuts himself off, and the wrinkle deepens. On instinct, Hiccup tuts, and leans in to press his lips to the crease, kissing the site of the tension lovingly, until Jack’s face smooths out.

Finally, Hiccup pulls away. The hand on Jack’s back slides up to cup his cheek instead, running a thumb beneath his eye. His lips are pulled into a curious pout. Hiccup explains, a wry smile lifting his face. “Well, I have kind of been living under a rock,” he points out. “So no.” He shakes his head. “No, I don’t know. I’ve never even heard that name.” Then he tilts Jack’s face up just enough to bring him into a short kiss, until the pout relaxes too. When he pulls back again, he asks, “But I’m assuming that’s you?” Hiccup quirks a brow. 

Jack blinks, reeling from the kiss. His eyes are glued to Hiccup’s lips. He opens his mouth a couple times, staring helplessly, but nothing really comes out, so he just closes it. His brows raise, before he finally looks Hiccup in the eye. His pupils are wide as can be, and his lashes are prominent and pretty. “Uhhh—yeah.” He blinks again, those lashes fluttering cutely. “Yeah, yeah that’s me,” he finishes, slightly breathless. “Jack Frost.”

The corner of Hiccup’s lips turn up in a crooked smile. “Hm. It suits you,” he offers, tilting his head. Then he gestures at him with his elbow. “What, with the whole… new look you got goin’ on here,” he explains honestly. “I like it.” 

Jack looks down, a shy smile appearing on his face, and he laughs. “Uh, thanks babe.” His grin widens. “Yeah, no, definitely—thank you,” he repeats, and he tucks some of that white hair behind his ear. It’s such a good look on him. Hiccup’s heart is so warm. “But uhhh…” he drawls, huffing through his nose. And oh, here it comes. “You already said that.” Jack looks up at Hiccup from beneath his lashes.

Hiccup scoffs, rolling onto his back roughly. The bed bounces beneath his body as he drags Jack on top of him, and Jack lands with an ‘oof’. “Wow. Okay.” Hiccup snarks, “So—what? I can’t—I can’t say it again?” He wraps his hands around Jack’s waist, and the man yelps, squirming away from him. Hiccup traps him close to his chest, digging his fingers into his sides playfully, and Jack laughs loudly. “I’m now forbidden from telling my pretty boyfriend the truth? Huh? That he’s beautiful? Is that it?” he grills with a smile, then finally stops tickling him. 

Jack slumps into his chest with a groan, and Hiccup pets his hair, threading his fingers through the strands. “Besides,” he continues, twirling a lock, “that was about your eyes. This time I’m talking about your name.” Hiccup rubs the nape of Jack’s neck, and Jack curls into it like a particularly satisfied Terrible Terror, tilting his neck up into his hand. “I’m telling you it suits you.” His knuckles catch on the tag of his hoodie as he dips his hand beneath the hem, massaging the top of Jack’s spine. 

The smaller man hums happily, and presses further into the touch. “Can you—?” He doesn’t finish, but Hiccup immediately knows what he wants, gently squeezing the base of his neck and applying the slightest bit of pressure. It gets Jack to let out a small moan, before falling pliant against Hiccup’s sternum, shoulders slack and arms limp at Hiccup’s sides. His face smushes into Hiccup’s shirt adorably, ears as red as dragonflame. His jaw is poking into his ribs a little painfully, but as Hiccup watches the blush rise from his neck all the way up to his forehead, he finds he doesn’t care that much. He just squeezes a little tighter. 

Jack shivers on top of him, burrowing deeper, and frost starts to spread outward from where he clings to the sheets. His voice is muffled into Hiccup’s shirt as he groans, “Ohhh, that’s so good,” and somehow falls even more slack. He’s so cute, with his lips all smushed up and pink. Hiccup’s heart does backflips. It gets him to snort, stomach quaking with chuckles as he tries to be quiet. 

The silent hilarity jostles Jack’s head, making him grumble beneath his breath in disapproval. “Pillows move now, huh?” He limply swats at him. “Stop it. Can’t a guy get some peace around here?” Jack asks him pointedly, before contorting to shove his arms beneath Hiccup’s hips. Jack’s forearms dig into the small of his back as he hugs Hiccup close, which only makes him laugh harder. “Stop moving,” he whines, knocking his head against Hiccup’s stomach. 

Hiccup snickers, petting his head placatingly. “Only if you stop being cute,” he counters, looking down at him, and Jack lifts his head just enough to glare at him, brows stark on his face. Hiccup laughs at that. “Ohhh, I’m sorry. Am I offending you, big baby boo?” he asks mockingly, poking Jack’s head. “Boyfriends are meant to be quiet pillows who don’t laugh at their partner? Is that it? You want me to be quiet?” 

Jack’s brow twitches irritably, like he’s getting ready to respond, before softening for a second. A thoughtful gleam appears in his eyes, which makes Hiccup finally sober up, mouth thinning. He tenses.

Ohhhhh no. Oh no. Hiccup does not like the look on his face. He knows exactly what that face leads to. Not good.

Jack shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean,” he starts, and subtly lowers his head to nuzzle the base of Hiccup’s stomach. He holds eye contact. 

The mood immediately shifts, and the action lights a fire in Hiccup’s gut that sends heat rushing through his veins. Hiccup’s breath hitches when Jack nudges the end of his shirt up to place a kiss there, and that heat coils tight near his hips. Jack’s lips linger on the skin, tenderly peppering small kisses to the muscle, before he moves down to nose the crease of his hip, lowering his eyes to further focus his efforts. Hiccup is suddenly hyper aware of everywhere they’re touching, every spot feeling like hot coal on his skin.

“Oh gods—okay—” Hiccup babbles, and tries to scoot away from him. Too much too soon. He almost makes it to the headboard, leaning up, before Jack shoves him down again roughly, going right back to nuzzling the crease of his hip. Hiccup nearly bursts into flames at it, breathless. His blush heats practically his entire face as he stares down at his boyfriend in mild fear. The fire in his stomach only burns brighter, his lungs robbed of air.

He really doesn’t want to admit it, but the show of strength is definitely doing it for him.

Jack places a kiss there too, before looking up at him from beneath his pretty eyelashes. “No, it’s fine. You can be loud,” he says, smiling. The way his voice is pitched is driving Hiccup insane, so low and hot. He feels like he’s going crazy. “Or you can be quiet.” Jack shrugs. But then he narrows his eyes slightly. “Just no laughing at me,” he finishes, and his cold breath is so dangerously close to—

Hiccup wheezes, pinching his eyes shut. “Okay! Okay, okay, okay! You win!” he concedes, tapping the bed frantically to signal his defeat. It gets Jack to laugh, dropping his head onto Hiccup’s stomach again as his shoulders shake. When Jack places an amused kiss on the hem of his pants, giggling, Hiccup’s heart drops to his stomach, and the heat flares. He exclaims, “Ahhhh! No—no! Beard of Thor—just—just get up here!” He tugs on Jack’s arms, but he doesn’t budge. “Please! Please, Jack, you win! I’ll stop laughing!” he begs.

Jack’s back practically convulses with how hard he’s giggling, and his smile is bright when he crawls back up to Hiccup’s chest on lithe knees, hovering over him gracefully. The muscles on his thighs work to keep him balanced over Hiccup in a truly criminal display of sexiness, teeth a pearly white and his eyes a sparkling blue. Hiccup is so, so, so enamored. His heart gives a weak twinge. 

“You—you bipolar—spawn of Loki, you,” he sputters in insult, but it’s half hearted. He has to wrestle a smile off his face just to seem serious. But his soul feels so vibrant, and so, so warm, so Hiccup’s lips twitch anyway, lungs squeezing.

Even though it’s practically torture, he’s missed being teased like this. He’s missed it so much. 

Jack chuckles. “Are you done now?” he asks, and Hiccup takes a deep breath, zoning back in.

“Yes.” Hiccup swallows, and he looks between those pretty blue eyes. He rests a hand on Jack’s arm and licks his lips, nervous. “Yes, I promise. I’ll stop making fun of you.” 

Jack’s smile turns warm, then. “Mm,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss. Their lips meet in the center, moving softly against each other as Hiccup angles up to reach him obligingly. Jack’s eyes flutter closed, and he gently drops his weight over Hiccup’s torso again, curling a hand beneath his neck to pull him closer. Hiccup wraps his hands around Jack’s waist and squeezes, which makes Jack moan. “That’s more like it,” Jack murmurs. Then he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

Gently biting at Jack’s lip, Hiccup pulls away to ask, “Yeah, but weren’t we—” Jack kisses him. “—weren’t we having—” The smaller man pulls his hair, and Hiccup’s gut tightens, throat constricting around a moan. “—a conversation before this?” he finishes in a voice crack, and drops his head weakly. It lolls to the side, so Jack focuses on his neck instead. 

“Hmn, no,” Jack hums against his throat, leaving little open-mouthed kisses that throw Hiccup into cardiac-arrest. He gives tiny kitten licks to the stubble there, barely even flicking his tongue, and Hiccup groans. “I thought we were done talking,” Jack finally responds. 

Overwhelmed, Hiccup kneads at the muscles along Jack’s spine, trying to make him feel good despite his current uselessness. “Mm, but there were some things I—” When Jack sucks on his neck, teething the skin, Hiccup flushes, groaning. “—I wanted to—” He’s interrupted when Jack finally moves back up to his lips, kissing him hard. Their tongues snake together sensually, and Hiccup moans. The heat in his gut returns with a vengeance. It’s so hot. It’s so fucking hot. Sweet mother of—

Hiccup takes a sharp breath through his nose, snapping out of it. He knows he won’t come back from this if he keeps their kiss going, so Hiccup redoubles his efforts in distracting him. In a small trick, he carefully snakes his hands under Jack’s hoodie to grab at his hips, thumbing the bones with the slightest hint of pressure. Jack moans, and tries to shove closer, and Hiccup lets him. But then he lightly grazes his nails over the small of Jack’s back. 

Jack whimpers and shivers on top of him, halting. Hiccup opens his eyes to watch his mouth gape into a silent ‘O’ over his lips, eyes closed and lashes fluttering. Hiccup takes one of his arms and wraps it over Jack’s back, squeezing him close, while the other hand continues its ministrations. He gently rubs circles into that spot.

“‘Threat immobilized’?" he hazards. 

Jack inhales shakily and snaps his mouth shut. His teeth click loudly. “That’s…” He takes a deep breath. “—so unfair,” he finally shudders, and tucks his head into Hiccup’s neck. Hiccup continues to massage the small of his back until Jack shivers again. “Are you gonna do that every time? Or just from Monday to Thursday?” he quips. 

Hiccup snorts, and closes his eyes, finally getting a break. Then he rests his cheek on the back of Jack’s head, squeezing him tighter, and Jack melts. “Well, I’m thinking Monday to Wednesday wouldn’t be so bad. But I might take Thursday off,” he banters. “I don’t know. What do you think?” Hiccup jokes.

Jack scoffs, and shuffles on top of him, burying his head deeper into Hiccup’s neck. His voice is muffled when he finally asks, “Is there a motive behind this particular brand of torture? Do you feel like explaining yourself, or…?”

“Hm,” Hiccup lilts. “That’s a good question.” He hums for a minute, “Mmm, I’d say there are a number of reasons.” He feels Jack tilt his ear towards him subtly, craning to listen, and it makes him smile knowing Jack wants to hear his answer. “One: you like it, and I want to do the things you like,” he starts, and smooths his hand over the small of his back to prove his point. When Jack shudders again, Hiccup huffs through his nose, brow ticking in amusement. “Two: it calms you down. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re a mite bit energetic,” he jokes. 

Jack chuckles. “What?” he asks. “You don’t like it?” Hiccup can feel the smile he hides inside his neck. It’s contagious, and sends him into a smile-fit too. 

Hiccup laughs his answer. “Who said anything about that? Of course I like it,” he reassures, and squeezes him tighter. “You’re just easily distracted.” 

At that, Jack hums, and changes the subject. “And three?” 

Hiccup sobers up, thinking his words over carefully. He bites the inside of his cheek, before saying hesitantly, “I don’t know. I just… I figured you need it.” Jack stiffens at that, and Hiccup rushes to clarify, “Now before you get all defensive on me—think about it. Three-hundred years alone, Jack! You didn’t have anybody.” He looks down at him, and Jack lifts his head. He stares into his blue eyes with urgency. “At least I had Toothless and the other dragons,” he reasons. He doesn’t think about how off it feels to say that. “You didn’t—you didn’t have anyone! All that time—”

Jack cuts him off with a glare. “All that time, huh? All that time? Hiccup, you were alone for a thousand years!” he refutes.

Hiccup blinks, and stutters. “Yeah, but—but I had my best friend!” he deflects. “I had Toothless! I wasn’t alone.”

Jack sighs annoyedly. “Really—really speaks to your intelligence, comparing a dragon to a human being, babe. And, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but having a pet doesn’t replace basic human connection!” 

“Well, it was better than nothing!” Jack stops. His eyes are wide when Hiccup continues, “How long did you have nothing? No one? Versus the thousand years I had Toothless at my side?” 

Jack’s mouth is pulled into a thin line, but it’s a moment before he stutters, “I had—” Then he pauses. “I had the Guardians for the last 28 years. And—and Jamie,” he stumbles. Then he looks away. “But other than that, I didn’t…” He doesn’t finish. 

Frowning, Hiccup uses his finger to turn Jack’s chin back toward him, looking into his eyes again. “Exactly. And I don’t know how you did it,” he admits, softening, before shaking his head. “Just—just thinking about you going through that makes me want to hold you tight forever. I don’t—” He looks at Jack again, brows twisting. “I don’t want you to—to. I mean. Even just touching you lightly, you’re so sensitive. And I don’t want you to be like that forever. I want you comfortable, and clingy, and—” 

Jack snorts. “I think I’m being pretty clingy right now,” he sasses.

“—Whatever,” Hiccup cuts him off. He frowns. “Just. Just—Ugh!” He throws his head back against the pillows. “Why is it so hard to have this conversation?” he groans, closing his eyes. 

He hears Jack sigh. “Hey, hold on.” A cold hand slides over his face, brushing his hair back gently. The sensation is tickling, but sweet, and Hiccup exhales roughly when he feels it finally cup his cheek, brows knitting. Jack’s cold fingers settle in the crook of his jaw, and Hiccup presses his face further into that cool palm, pillowing his cheek even more. “No, we can talk,” Jack says. He runs his thumb over Hiccup’s cheek bone. “We can talk, handsome. C’mon.” 

Hiccup pouts. “It’s not that. It’s—” The words get stuck, turning into a lump in his throat. He swallows. “Can we just start over? I kind of—I just—” He gives up on trying to explain himself. “You go first,” Hiccup huffs, finally looking at him again. His eyes are pleading. “Please,” he says as an afterthought.

Jack’s face softens. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Where do you want me to start?” 

“The beginning.” Hiccup swallows again. He thinks about that day on the docks, the thump of large boots on the boards, how quiet Astrid had gotten. “Your dad said that you—” He chokes on the words, clenching his jaw. 

“Drowned,” Jack finishes for him, getting a far away look in his eye. “Yeah. Yeah, I uh. I did.” He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself, biting his lip. He takes a sharp breath through his nose. 

There’s a minute of silence. 

“...I did it to save Mary.” He finally looks at Hiccup. There must be an anxious look on his face or something, because Jack comfortingly smooths his thumb over Hiccup’s cheek bone again, face softening. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “It’s just—we were ice skating on the pond. And the ice must’ve been too thin, or something, because then it started cracking, and… I guess… I guess… I don’t know. I just had to get her out of the way.” He shrugs.

Hiccup’s hands tighten around Jack’s waist. “Jack…” he mumbles.

Jack shakes his head. “No, no. It’s okay. I um.” He sighs, then. “You know I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t have to tell you that,” he thinks aloud, and his brow quirks up.

A laugh huffs out through Hiccup’s nose. “No, you don’t,” Hiccup comments wryly. He thinks about the one—and only—year Mary came to Berk. Hiccup and Jack had hardly talked that summer because Jack was so busy making sure she didn’t get into any trouble with the other kids. There were a lot of dangers on Berk, and he’d spent the entire season anxious out of his mind. The only time Hiccup could be there to comfort him was at night, when Mary had finally gone to sleep. 

It makes him smile. “Figures,” he continues, looking at him again. Jack’s eyes are firmly lowered to Hiccup’s ribs, eyelashes flitting as he traces little circles in his shirt with his finger. He just barely misses the leather cord hidden beneath it—just barely misses the bead tied to the end. Hiccup watches the entire thing fondly. Jack hasn’t even noticed. “You were always protective of her.” He brings a hand up to Jack’s neck, and gently rubs the nape. 

At that, Jack hums, curling into the touch, as Hiccup expected him to, before he finally decides to lie back down. He rests his cheek over Hiccup’s heart, and the hand holding Hiccup’s face falls down to his arm, which he squeezes gently. “After that—after that, I don’t know, honestly,” Jack huffs. He rubs circles into Hiccup’s bicep. “One minute I was dead, the next, I woke up in the 1700’s, no clue where I was, no clue who I was; lost, with people passing right through me. All the Man in the Moon ever told me was my name—Jack Frost,” he finally finishes. Then he shrugs. “I didn’t remember anything about Jackson Overland until 300 years later.” 

Hiccup’s brow furrows again. “What made you remember?” he asks. 

That makes Jack scoff. “Now that’s an interesting story. Another can of worms, even. One that, frankly, I would hate to get into,” he huffs. Then he wiggles, trying to cuddle closer, and ends up smushing his cheek further into Hiccup’s chest. “Long, boring, annoying tale,” he grumbles. “I mean. It’s how I became a Guardian. But that’s… so bleugh.”

Hiccup laughs, grinning, “Okay.” He runs his hand through Jack’s hair. “Okay. You don’t have to tell me. That’s fine.”  

“Mm.” Jack wiggles again, trying to get more comfortable. “Good,” he says, before he finally settles down.

Hiccup sighs under him, somehow going more boneless in the mattress. Jack’s body is the perfect amount of heavy. A nice, cool weighted blanket compared to the constant sweltering of the Hidden World. And Hiccup can admit that his hut does very little to keep the warmth out, so this is a pleasant contrast. “It’s your turn now,” Jack reminds him gently, and Hiccup hums at the wooden ceiling.

“Oh, you know. It’s pretty simple. I was shot with a poison dart by a dragon hunter.” He shrugs casually. Hiccup feels Jack tense against him, grip tightening around his bicep, and Hiccup rubs a hand over his back to calm him down. “Should’ve seen it coming. Turns out, Toothless is way better at the whole protecting deal than I am. But hey! It worked out in the end!” he reassures. “Me and Toothless made it out of there alive!” Then he pauses, tilting his head. “...Well. You know what I mean,” he rephrases. “Anyways. ‘Grimmel’ was his name. He went to take a shot at Toothless, and I jumped in the way of it. But after I fell, he still managed to get to Toothless anyway.” 

Jack frowns into his shirt. “What kind of poison did he use?” 

“Ehhhh…” Hiccup cringes. “Just uh…” Oh, Jack isn’t going to like this. “A mix of Deathgripper venom and Poisonous Piffleworm venom. You know. The usual.”

Jack actually jumps up at that, shoving against Hiccup’s ribs to get upright. Hiccup wheezes when one of Jack’s elbows knocks against his gut. “Hoohhhh man,” he rasps. The hand Jack has wrapped around his arm is bearing most of Jack’s weight, crushing it into the mattress. Hiccup’s breath whistles out of him. “Jack—Jack, Jack, Odin’s ghost, you’re gonna break my arm. Owowowow, get off—”

Jack does as he’s told and moves his hand to the mattress instead. But Hiccup doesn’t get the time to be relieved, because he immediately demands, “What do you mean Poisonous Piffleworm venom?!” His eyes are wide and incredulous, and Hiccup laughs nervously. 

“I mean—it’s not that big of a deal now—” he tries to comfort. 

“‘Not a big deal’? You want to run that by me again?” he demands, and Hiccup grimaces. 

“Yes…?” he hedges unsurely.

“No!” Jack exclaims. “No Hiccup! You don’t get to—you can’t just—” He reels back. “You—you nut-brained, moronic, witless, no sense having idiot! What were you—” He starts swatting at his chest. “—thinking?!” He swats him again. 

“Hey—” Jack hits him once more. “Hey!” Hiccup yells, and he grabs Jack’s wrists. Jack is absolutely fuming, glaring at him with the power of a thousand blizzards. Goosebumps start to raise on Hiccup’s arms as the temperature in the room drops. “I was thinking that I had to protect my dragon! And see? It all worked out! I’m fine now! Toothless and I are fine!” Jack’s hands start to shake, lip twitching erratically, and Hiccup smooths his thumbs over his palms. “We’re fine, baby.” Hiccup’s face softens.

“Oh—oh sure. Definitely. Ahuh.” Jack clenches his jaw, and the temperature drops lower. His breath puffs out of him in a burst of mist when he laughs hysterically, “Piffleworm venom and you’re fine. Oh yeah. That’s gotta be the most believable thing you’ve said all day. The most believable thing to come out of your mouth since I’ve known you, actually!” His brows crumple with anger. “Hiccup, I swear to god—” he cries. 

“Okay,” Hiccup gives in, and pulls him closer. “Okay, okay, okay.” Jack looks at him with his pretty blue eyes. They’re watering with barely held back tears. “It wasn’t fine. You’re right. Of course you’re right. It wasn’t fine,” Hiccup admits, and brings a hand up to thumb at the tears. His palm perfectly fits around Jack’s cold, cold cheek. “But I’m all better,” he murmurs, smiling. “And so is Toothless. A thousand years leaves a lot of time to heal.”

“I just—I just wish I could’ve—I should’ve—” Jack keeps cutting himself off. “I just wish I had been there.” The tears fall, and he closes his eyes. He sniffs, leaning into Hiccup’s hand. “If I had… if I just…” 

It’s rare for Jack to get like this, so Hiccup treats it with the severity it deserves, frowning. “I know.” He shushes him. He wipes more of those tears away. “I know you do. But we have each other now. That’s what matters.”

Jack snorts at that, coughing. Slowly the tears begin to freeze on his cheeks, turning to frost. “They should be calling you the ‘cheese master’, at this point,” he jokes, but more tears trickle down, leaving even more frozen trails. His breath hitches. “Jesus, Hiccup,” he cries, and Hiccup shushes him again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but continues trying to dry the tears. He brushes Jack’s hair back to leave a little kiss on his forehead. “You know I mean it, though,” Hiccup murmurs to him. “Right?” His brows fold then. He tilts his head to try to meet Jack’s eyes, and Jack looks up at him from beneath wet lashes. Tears stick to them like dew, crystalizing into tiny ice drops.

He sniffs. “Yeah.” His breath huffs out of him, and slowly, the room begins to warm again. Hiccup watches him calm down, methodically swiping his thumb over his cheek in comfort. “I just—” Jack sniffles again. “Why did Manni choose to put me here so late? What was his reason? The—the least he could’ve done was—”

“I don’t know,” Hiccup interrupts him, catching his eyes. But Jack looks away. Then Hiccup sighs. “I don’t know,” he murmurs.

The conversation dies. They sit in the room quietly, Jack staring at Hiccup’s chest, while Hiccup stares at Jack. He continues running a thumb under that eye, trying to catch the tears that slowly begin to fall less and less. The dragons from outside continue to buzz behind the windows, walls, and doors. Toothless is out there somewhere probably. 

Jack sniffs again. “When’s the last time you had a normal conversation?” he changes the subject. “I wasn’t kidding, cheese master. That was bad,” he mumbles, and kisses Hiccup’s wet hand. He grimaces when his lips come back salty. 

Hiccup wipes his mouth for him with his sleeve, and Jack murmurs his thanks. Then Hiccup places his hand back over his cheek. “What?” he spaces, and his eyes scrunch up. His other hand comes up to cup the back of Jack’s neck absentmindedly.

At that, Jack blinks, like a thought just occurred to him, before he turns a calculating look on Hiccup. It’s a total 180 from mere seconds ago. “I asked you when’s the last time you had a conversation,” he says again, and his eyes narrow slightly. The tone is more threatening than the expression is, considering his nose is still red from crying.

And, being no coward, Hiccup is fully comfortable admitting that he really, really, really, really does not like that question, so he tenses. He looks away, laughing, “Uhhh… Ha… Y’know, funny you should ask that. I uh—”

Jack cuts him off. “You know what? No. That’s okay, I’ll rephrase that for you. That one was a little difficult.” Then he shifts on top of him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Who’s the last person—” He jabs him again after the last word. “—you had a conversation with?” he clarifies. 

“Wh—What? Is it ‘Come After Hiccup Day’, or something? Seriously, Jack—” he tries to deflect, laughing some more, but Jack interrupts him again. 

“Just answer the question, Hiccup,” Jack says, and that makes him shut up. 

Hiccup bites his lip, deliberating. But he opens his mouth to take a breath, and says, “T—”

Jack holds a hand up, and Hiccup stops. Closing his eyes, Jack inhales deeply, jaw tensing. “If the next word out of your mouth is ‘Toothless’,” he starts, “I’ll do you a favor and stop you right there.”

Hiccup’s lips thin into an awkward line, and he blinks at Jack without responding. It’s a moment before he opens his mouth to say, “Lyra.”

Jack nods at that, conceding for a moment. “And who’s that?” Nevermind, he’s still attacking. 

Hiccup doesn’t say anything. 

“A dragon, Hiccup?"

Hiccup still doesn’t say anything. Jack’s stare gets harder and harder, turning more frustrated the longer Hiccup stays silent. 

Eventually Hiccup throws his hands up in defeat. “Okay so she’s a Hornswoggler!” Hiccup rolls his eyes, and his hands flop back onto the bed. He huffs loudly. “So I haven’t had the opportunity to hold an actual conversation in a few years. Big deal,” he says. “I still don’t think that warrants the look you’re giving me.” 

“What look?” Jack glowers annoyedly. 

Hiccup points at his face. “That look!” 

Then Jack sighs long-sufferingly. His eyes roll to the sky like he’s asking the gods to grant him patience, and Hiccup feels the guilt return to his stomach like an old, half-friend that he kind of hates. 

Jack takes a deep breath, before lowering his gaze right at him. It’s gentle. “Hiccup.” He shuffles forward to hold Hiccup’s face in both hands, and leans close, looking him in the eye. Now they’re nose to nose, and his hands are cold, and kind, and Hiccup wants so desperately for him to stop staring at him with his stupid, beautiful, mournful face. It makes it hard to breathe. He hates the sadness in his eyes. “Handsome,” Jack says again. “I wish you would—” He takes a deep breath, and the hurt in his eyes gets worse. “I wish you would just talk to me,” he begs. “You did this before too. Back then. You’re so vulnerable, and sweet, and honest, until it’s time to actually admit that something bad happened to you.

“You did this with Berk, before the villagers actually respected you. You did this with Stoick, before he started listening. You did this with the riders, before you guys became friends. You could—you could go on and on, complaining about the expectations on your shoulders, or—or making sarcastic quips whenever someone insulted you. But you would never actually sit down and admit—” He enunciates that word. “—that you were wronged,” he finishes. Hiccup’s brows twist. “And that’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”

Hiccup’s hands shake lightly. He curls his fingers around the sheets to stop them, and swallows, lip twitching. “Nah, I don’t—” He swallows again. “I don’t do that,” he refutes, but Jack gives him a look. 

A beat of silence follows.

…

“Okay, so maybe I do that,” Hiccup admits, huffing. But then he turns an imploring look on Jack. “I just—I just didn’t want it to be all about me, Jack. I’m sorry, please understand. I just wanted—” His throat pulls tight. “I just wanted to—” 

“Wanted to what?” Jack asks. 

“I don’t know!” His voice finally breaks. Tears begin to gather in his eyes, and Jack runs a thumb over his cheekbone, soothing. “I don’t know. It’s just—I didn’t. I didn’t want—I mean,” Hiccup stutters, and he hitches around a breath. “I guess I’m just not used to it being about me,” he finally confesses. Jack’s stare turns noticing. “I—I haven’t. I haven’t really thought about—about what I need in a long time. Conversation might be one of them, you’re right. But I just—I wanted to make do with what I had. Taking care of the dragons, not being dead, being in charge of autumn, have—having Toothless.” He gestures. “I wanted it to be enough,” he sniffles. Then he drops his head back against the pillows. “I guess it wasn’t.” He stares at the ceiling.

“No,” Jack murmurs, brushing Hiccup’s bangs out of his eyes. His fingers gently sweep over his forehead, before tracing over freckles. “But it kept the tide off until I could ruin things again.” Then he smushes Hiccup’s face between his hands once, before relaxing his grip. “I’m going to get you into all sorts of trouble. I’ll introduce you to all my friends, take you to all sorts of places. We’re going to have so much fun, babe,” he promises, and it shatters Hiccup’s heart, how kind he is. “Okay?”

Hiccup responds, but doesn’t look at him. “Okay,” he mumbles. He feels his lip start to wobble, and he inhales—tries desperately to stave it off. Hiccup swallows. 

That must not be the response he wanted, because Jack frowns and slumps. But then he redoubles his efforts. “It’s exactly what you said before,” Jack tries again, turning his face up again so that Hiccup is looking him in the eye, “we have each other now.” Jack keeps smoothing his thumb over Hiccup’s cheek. Hiccup feels his heart tremble. 

His hands are so soft. 

“So from now on it’s gonna be about both of us.” Jack smiles at him. His eyes are gentle, and warm. It melts Hiccup’s soul. He’s the definition of a mug of cocoa on a cold day. Hiccup wants to give him the bead so much—wants to show Jack that he never forgot, that he never stopped loving him with all his heart. That he never stopped cherishing him. It burns against his sternum, begging to be offered. “Sound good?” Jack asks, and he tilts his head promptingly. 

Pulling out of his thoughts, Hiccup releases a quiet breath, easing. He shoves those temptations to the back of his mind, carefully locking them in a box labeled ‘Please, for the love of Thor, do not open’, and lets his shoulders relax. He smiles obligingly. “Sounds good,” Hiccup responds, and Jack’s eyes soften at him. 

“I love you, handsome,” Jack says then, rubbing that thumb over his cheek. 

At that, Hiccup’s hands come up to curl around his waist, gently squeezing. “I love you too,” he murmurs, before he brings one of his hands to Jack’s neck. “C’mere, you.” He pulls him in.

Their lips meet in the middle for approximately three seconds—three glorious seconds of Hiccup gently biting Jack’s bottom lip, and Jack pushing to get closer to him—before the door bursts open with a loud bang. They jump apart immediately. With Jack still on top of him, they both quickly twist to stare at the door. The moment is certifiably ruined.

Toothless stands at the opening, tongue out and tail wagging as he pants. His pupils are strong, thick squares in his eyes as he looks between them, before licking his chops. The smile on his face is gummy and cute. 

“Hey, bud,” Hiccup greets him, relaxing against the mattress now that he knows who it is. He smiles. “How was—” 

He doesn’t get to finish before Toothless flaps his wings and leaps toward the bed. 

Hiccup jerks up. “Wait!!!” He holds a hand out too late, before Toothless crashes into them. The mattress then flies off the box spring with him and Jack still on it and knocks Hiccup’s prosthetic and Jack’s staff to the floor. It lands at a steep incline and sends them careening onto the other side of the room, where Hiccup and Jack both slam into the wall. 

“Oh—” Jack crashes into him, shoulder clipping into his gut and trapping Hiccup between the wall and his bony body. 

Hiccup wheezes in pain. “Ow,” he moans shortly.  

Still panting, Toothless comes bounding up to them, tongue swishing as he trots over. Once he’s made it, he looks down at them with his ear flaps splayed wide, blinking expectantly. 

Hiccup lifts his head just enough to look up at him, squinting in pain. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Nice to see you too bud.” And drops his head weakly to the floor.