Chapter Text
Hiccup, Jack has found, is scarily observant.
Jack is used to knowing. Not being known. The reciprocation, that is new, the two way street. All Jack has known is watching, observing.
He remembers meeting a little girl once, high in the mountains, the altitude being the only thing holding in the cold enough to bring the two together. He doesn’t know why - Jack never does - but he started following her around after that meeting. Sometimes he would slip into people on the street: vendors, family members, friends. Anyone she was interacting with. He would lay there, staving off the feeling of someone moving through him - that sort of forced dematerialization that would make him feel like he was being broken apart from the inside out - and he would pretend to be the one talking to her; dancing with her, selling her grain at the shop stand.
She was his best friend, a sister even. Maybe.
He was with her the day she met her husband. When they built their house, when they got married. When she died of some unknown flu before she turned 50.
He would like to say she was a special case, but he has a habit of following. A knack for it even: because Jack never forgets. Manny knows Jack never forgets.
He's avoided counting the number of people he's followed. He doesn't really want to know, to acknowledge the habit more than he has to. He has, however, stashed away everything else about them: their favorite color, their hopes, dreams, the flowers that make them smile. The way they looked in death; sometimes peaceful, sometimes anguished.
His memory is a blessing sometimes. A curse most often.
He does count certain things, though: the main two being how old he is and how long it’s been since the Moon decided to talk to him. It’s quite easy, they’re the same number.
He just doesn’t understand what his purpose is. Everything around him has one, everything around him knows their part in keeping the balance. And those that don’t, don’t care. But those beings were birthed from something beyond purpose, something that came before it.
Jack, Jack has the Moon. And the Moon never creates something without a purpose, he just doesn’t know what it is.
Being seen was like getting dunked in cold water. The stark sharpness under the skin, a freshness gasping at the air. Like you’re seeing everything for the first time.
Jack thought it a gift from the moon: that it had finally heard his cries and decided to answer. He quickly found it to be mere coincidence, some stories just a brush stroke close enough to render him visible. He was too thrilled at the notion of being seen to be disappointed, though. It never even occurred to Jack to be angry that the only people who can see him hated him. The thought doesn’t cross Jack’s mind until nearly 100 years later. He relished it, everything. The way their eyes would lock onto him, not through him, onto him. At how they yelled, screamed, threatened. Him, they were talking to him!
He didn’t like the fear, though.
Jack doesn’t think he could ever be like most of the winter spirits around him. They are either indifferent, malicious, or hungry. Sniffing out that fear, rumbling around the aroma. It took Jack a good 10 years to realize it, but it all clicked for him one day when he saw the tear stained face of a little boy sobbing up at him, curling against the tree trunk where he had become lost. He would rather be invisible until the end of time before he caused that fear willingly.
It’s why Jack stopped fighting back.
It was a win-win in Jack’s mind. They stopped being so afraid, and they didn’t run away so often. And then, then Jack finally experienced touch . When they didn’t use weapons, when they defended with a fist, that was Jack’s favorite.
Because they didn’t pass through him. They clocked him right in the jaw, and Jack could feel someone else’s skin for the first time in ages.
It’s something Jack has steadfastly withheld from Hiccup. Because Jack knows it’s wrong to go seeking out something like that on a bad day. That something like that was the only thing that kept him going, sometimes.
Because Jack knows exactly how Hiccup would react. His nose would wrinkle, in that way it does when he’s distressed, eyebrows squished almost into a solid line. He would clench his teeth, say something stupid, and sweet, and heart numbing, and then Jack would catch his worried looks for the next year when he thinks Jack doesn’t notice.
So, he doesn’t say anything. Because personally, he doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about. He has a sneaking suspicion the Wind would say otherwise - he swears to Manny that the Wind and Hiccup are beginning to team up on him - but he likes to think he did the best with what he had.
Besides, he doesn’t need it anymore. What he gets now is far better. The gentleness, the friendly way he gets pulled around, into hugs, into conversations.
But most of all, he’s a little addicted to the way Hiccup holds him.
He makes Jack feel solid; careful hands, always so careful, cradling him into embraces. The way he trails his fingers down Jack’s spine, how he swipes a thumb over his cheek. The way he kisses him: intense, studiously, like he’s filling everything away for later. Like he’s something Hiccup wants to remember.
Jack will admit he’s a little obsessed with Hiccup. And, you know, old habits die hard. He finds himself watching the man in a thin swatch of snow more often than he really needs to.
Because he honestly doesn’t need to watch from afar, out of reach. He forgets that, sometimes; That he can saunter on up to the man and become a participant, rather than just an observer.
But Hiccup routinely continues to turn Jack’s world on its axis.
One day he decided to see what happens when he just follows Hiccup around, but in his human form this time, rather than as snow. He was moody after another night of screaming at the moon, and sue him, he was curious on what Hiccup would do.
Hiccup had simply quirked an eyebrow at his unusually silent state, and then started monologuing to him all of his duties he had to do: who he was seeing, what new building plan he was sketching out for Berk. He had slowly tucked Jack up to his side, eyes on him the whole time, looking for what Jack didn’t know. But he snuggled into him easily enough and quickly decided this was way better than stalking the man along the Wind.
Then, Hiccup said. “So, you like this more than following me around in your little snow cloud?” Nonchalantly, if a bit amused. Like it was an inside joke, and less of a bomb onto the conversation.
Jack had stopped frozen, blinking rapidly before turning to Hiccup. “What?” It was the first thing he had said that whole day.
“Hm?”
“How do you know about that?”
“What? About you stalking me? Which, by the way, I didn’t know I would find so adorable and yet here we are.”
Jack just shook his head, slowly, trying to catch up.
Hiccup barked a laugh at the look and stepped forward, thumb stroking right under his eyes.
“You aren’t exactly subtle, Jack. It’s okay. I’m just glad you decided to come down and join me.”
The thing is though, Jack really is subtle.
There’s a reason only Viking children call his name, a reason why Berk itself didn’t see his face until Hiccup called upon him. Jack is only seen when he wants to be seen. Otherwise? He’s less than a thought, nothing but a whisper drowned out by the breeze.
Toothless can’t even find him when Jack twirls into the wind. Jack knows from the way he twitches around, antsy, right before Jack tackles him to the ground.
But that comment had gotten to him, and he quickly found himself testing out Hiccup’s theory.
The next week he was trailing Astrid like a looming shadow, deciding she was the most observant of the bunch. She hadn’t so much as twitched the whole day. That is, until Hiccup happened to walk by them, and paused. He looked at Astrid weird, then completely ignored her annoyed remarks as he looked up and stared right at Jack . It only took a few seconds for his face to light up, then he doubled over laughing. He refused to explain himself, and ended the day with a handful of bruises from an Angry Astrid. Jack found his revenge in snickers as she kept hitting him demanding answers.
After that he quickly deduced that it’s only Hiccup. He knows for sure because when he visits while Hiccup’s teaching a dragon class in the ring, sometimes he'll float around and watch. Every time, without fail, Hiccup would pause, tilt his head, and smile. Then he’d call out some snarky comment inviting Jack to join the class.
The other riders and students looked at him like he was crazy the first few times. They nearly jumped a foot into the air when Jack would apparate over Hiccup’s shoulders with an eye roll. They had to have a whole class just to train the dragons not to attack when he would appear out of nowhere like that. Now though, everyone just starts flickering their eyes around, trying to see where he was.
Jack has long ago given up trying to understand how Hiccup knows what he does.
---
Today, Hiccup’s in the forge, leaning over the table as he writes down the dimensions for some new roof flaps for Gobber.
Jack quickly decides that the activity isn’t exactly code red levels of dangerous and slithers his way into Hiccup’s lap. He hops up, snagging one of the man's discarded notebooks before curling himself over Hiccup’s shoulders. Hiccup just gives him a hum, readjusting Jack easily enough in his lap before continuing his work, one hand now splayed over his back, thumb rubbing little circles while the other continues writing.
Jack himself stuffs his head into Hiccup’s shoulder until only his eyes peek out. He opens the notebook, reading his disjointed thoughts and plans lazily. There’s new pages on a flight suit in here. The design for this one is a bit more detailed, more streamlined. Jack has no doubt it’ll be his next big forge project.
It doesn’t take long for Jack to be smiling into Hiccup’s shoulder, sinking deeper until he’s almost pooling around his bones. Hiccup presses the side of his head against Jack’s and gives him a little full body squeeze in reply.
It’s like that honey mead, moments like this. Jack feels Hiccup swipe over his spine, feather-light, and lets out a deep sigh. A burst of ice shavings puff from his mouth, piling onto the floor.
It’s a slow day, only a few people milling about the forge, chatting amicably with Gobber, rather than the usual frantic blather.
The Wind grumbles about the dragon’s napping in sunlight patches, curling against the twirling breezes instead of climbing into them. It’s a small chatter in his ear, and he huffs a small laugh in return.
Under him, though, he can feel Hiccup thinking. It’s the way his leg is bouncing, how he had been so concentrated when Jack walked in, staring down at simple calculations like he’s studying their essence.
It doesn’t feel like bad thoughts though, just complex ones. So Jack lets himself bask for an hour or so before he speaks up.
“Copper for your thoughts?”
Hiccup sits up a little straighter, humming in question.
Jack leans back, laying the notebook down on the table, hands going to fiddle with Hiccup’s shirt strings. He looks up, smiling.
“You’re thinking an awful lot over there, Hic.”
Hiccup blows out a breath, eyes drifting down to where Jack fingers his laces with a smile. He shrugs, sniffing.
“Eh, just trying to cement out a plan.”
“Plan?”
“For that new hunter group. Who may not be so new to the area now, I’m afraid.”
Ah, them. For Hiccup’s big tirade last winter, he had yet to actually sneak out and confront them. He actually hasn’t checked them out this spring either, and certainly not this summer. Jack noticed that, but delicately kept his mouth shut.
He thinks he knows the reason.
Their village gets invaded, sure, but then they get attacked by a Torrent and Jack goes missing only a few months later. Jack’s batting two out of three for being the cause of their misfortunes.
Hiccup pokes him sharply under the ribs, and Jack jumps.
“Ah, wh- hey!” He squawks, wiggling away.
Hiccup raises an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Brooding. It’s not your fault.”
Jack scoffs, pulling Hiccup’s shirt strings tight. “Not brooding.” He says, snickering when Hiccup starts trying to swat his hands away.
Hiccup just looks pointedly right between his eyes, reaching up to smooth over the area. Before Jack can ask what he’s doing Hiccup quietly says,
“It isn’t your fault. That wind monster was going to be here with or without you, and it definitely isn’t your fault for being trapped by some weird old lady in the woods.”
Jack can’t help but snicker at that. “What, is getting kidnapped by old ladies common around here?”
“You’d be surprised.” Hiccup snarks, the corner of his lips twitching into a crooked grin.
Jack stares at his face, taking in the way his laugh lines fold up his freckles. Like rolling over the stars. Then he kisses him, just because he can.
Hiccup leans into it immediately, hand splaying flat on Jack’s back to keep him from bumping into the table. Jack can feel Hiccup’s tongue trace his lower lip and smiles, pulling back lazily to kiss his way up Hiccup’s neck. He can feel the way Hiccup’s breath catches in his chest, his hands tightening. He can’t help but smirk right before leaning up and nipping at his earlobe.
Hiccup jumps, hands squeezing around Jack’s hips. He leans back with a scowl that gets completely ruined by the blush turning his whole face into a ruddy mess.
“Not in the forge.” He drags out, and Jack chitters a little laugh.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack says as innocently as he can, batting his eyelashes. He can’t help but dissolve into giggles, though, when Hiccup gives him a deadpan look in response. Jack kind of loves how starkly his freckles stand out when he gets all flustered like this.
“Why am I dating you again?” Hiccup asks, flatly.
Jack smiles wider at the comment, tapping his neck. A hair-thin trail of flowering ice blooms from his fingertip, trailing over Hiccup’s skin. Hiccup snorts, looking down at the frost with a fond expression.
“Because you’re secretly a troublemaker.” Jack quips. He reaches behind him and swipes the building plans away, ignoring Hiccup’s half-hearted protests as he hops onto the table. He curls his ankles around Hiccup’s knees.
“Alright.” Jack says, settling in. “What have you come up with for this hunter group?”
Hiccup’s hands find Jack’s staff, leaning off to the side, and he starts to trace the lines of Gronckle Iron in the wood.
“Alright.” Hiccup parrots, leaning back in his chair. Jack can see his thoughts swirl back to life behind his eyes. He knows Hiccup is already in deep by the way he immediately begins swinging his shoulders and arms around as he starts to talk.
“So, with how long the group has been left unchecked, they definitely have found Deathsongs by now. I don’t know what they want them for; usually they aren’t high on dragon hunters’ lists just because of how dangerous they are to try and capture. Also, they make other captured dragons more antsy, bad combo. With our cold trail, we’ll need to pick up some clues about them first. I’m thinking the Northern Markets. They’ll definitely have some new shipments from this group. But, most people there know we have dragons, and aren’t exactly inclined to talk to us outside of the business we give on occasion. Johann though definitely has contacts at the Markets, and I know he’s done some business there at least a few times since this spring. So, I’m thinking we find Johann and see if he has anything that might be useful.”
“That sounds like a solid plan.” Jack says, leaning forward. “So what are we waiting for?”
Hiccup gives him a sharp smile. It’s one of his wild ones, one that reminds Jack that this man has a dragon for a best friend. It’s one of his favorites.
“For Astrid to finish her weapon’s class.” Hiccup says, standing up.
---
They get a nice tip from the Wind, and end up finding Johann out near one of the Straits, sailing steadily towards Berkian waters.
He gives them a wave as they fly low, landing on his ship anywhere they can fit. Jack hasn’t met Johann yet, but gets a little twinge in his gut when the man doesn’t even react to him floating down onto one of the ship railings, snow sprinkling the wood. In fact, he doesn’t even spare Jack a glance.
Ah. Well, that’s interesting.
Jack stays crouched, mirroring the dragons quite well, as the others try to rush through Johann’s drawn out greetings. Jack cocks his head, eyes narrowing on the man, flicking one of the wind chimes on his staff. He thought Johann was a Viking, if more well-traveled than most members of the archipelago. He also knows Johann has been to Berk since Jack weaved his way into the tribe; Hiccup told Jack about the village singing his praises to the trader last time he was there.
Hiccup himself said Johann had laughed and nodded along to every story politely, lightly saying he would be honored to meet him. Hiccup told him he thought the more muted response was respect, with some apprehension thrown in.
The memory is kind of funny now, looking at him. Johann wasn’t scared to meet Jack, he was nodding along to what he thought was a bunch of superstitious Vikings.
The other riders also notice Johann’s weird lack of screaming at Jack. They exchange looks, eyes darting over to Jack and raising their eyebrows.
“Oh, Johann. I don’t think you’ve met Jack yet, have you?” Hiccup asks, probing.
“Don’t bother.” Jack says, drowning out whatever polite blather is coming out of Johann’s mouth. He hops up to drift over their heads and down next to Johann. “He can’t see me.”
“Wait, what?” Snotlout sputters.
The twins cackle as Jack walks around Johann in tight circles, not even an inch from the man. Johann just quirks an eyebrow and looks at the riders, straight through Jack, asking if they were quite alright. Jack sneaks a glance at Ruff and Tuff before flicking his wrist. A gust of wind blows over the ship, sending Johann’s cloak right over his eyes. That sends the twins into a fit, Jack chuckling along with them.
Until one of Johann’s arms flails out to balance himself, going straight through Jack’s chest.
He stumbles back, wincing sharply at the feeling. Gods, he’s not used to that like he once was. He’s been spoiled, it seems.
The laughter around him gets sucked away with sharp breaths.
The dragons stiffen. Toothless’s eyes thin to slits, and he growls out in warning, taking a menacing step towards Johann.
Hiccup shoots his hand out towards the dragon. “Woah there, bud.” He calms, eyes darting over to Jack. He can see the worry flickering there.
Johann stumbles back at the angry night fury, which is a very understandable response in Jack’s opinion. His eyes are blown wide. “I am not quite sure what has gotten into your dragon, Master Hiccup. But I must say that I do not enjoy being threatened on my own ship.” He stammers out, patting down his cloak.
Jack rushes in before anyone can respond. “It’s okay.” He says, eyes flickering between Hiccup and Toothless. “Really.” He looks at the rest of the riders. “I’ll catch up with you guys after. I want to go snoop in the shiphold anyways, see what weird things this guy is hauling around.”
Toothless huffs, shaking his head a bit. Astrid gives him a curt nod, and he takes that as his sign to go, swirling into the Wind. It tumbles his snowflakes around a moment in midair, checking him over, before he slips through the cracks in the floorboards, materializing by an overpacked shelf.
“Sorry about that, Johann. We’re all a bit on edge. We just wanted to ask if you’ve seen anything weird…”
Jack tunes everyone upstairs out. He knows he’ll get filled in anyways after they head out. Right now, he’s much more interested in the weird compasses and horns in some of these boxes.
He finds a whole shelf full of different fabrics, rubbing his fingers against the cotton, silk, and whatever else is piled around. There’s horns from deer, elk, moose, ram, and even some dragons hanging from the walls, necklaces and jewels tied around the bone.
He’s thumbing through some books when the Wind whistles in delight at the other end of the room. He turns to see it twirling something in circles, the material glinting in the light leaking through the floorboards.
It’s a metal ring, with a miniature figure of the moon - half-waning with a pudgy smiling face - hanging in the middle. The moon spins in little circles around and round. It’s tiny, no bigger than Jack’s hand, tied to one of the shelves by a thick leather strip.
He chuckles lowly, walking up to it. Not exactly the most awe inspiring portrayal of Manny. “You like this?” He asks, flicking the moon and watching it spin.
Yes , the Wind blows, spinning itself around the trinket. Jack snickers. “Well, if I didn’t know any better I would say you’re being quite petty there, Wind.” It blows his cloak over his eyes in response, and he cries out, flicking some frost at the breeze zipping around him. Once he wrestles the cloth back from his eyes, sending out a petulant glare, he reaches up, snapping off the leather with a grin. The Wind curls under his ears in question.
“I think he deserves a tax for all the nice trade winds being sent his way recently, don’t you?” He asks, tying the trinket next to the others on his crook.
The Wind bursts in delight, blowing through all the different chimes and charms along his staff, the wind chimes going off like a symphony and the charms sparkling into a kaleidoscope of spinning figures and rainbow glints flashing along the walls. Jack barks a laugh. “We got quite the collection going on, don’t we?” He says. The Wind blows against his back in response, and he leans into the breeze, closing his eyes.
It stops suddenly, blowing his hair over his face with a whine. He raises an eyebrow, opening his eyes, only to hear wing beats battering the ship deck upstairs.
“Ah.” He says. “Better be off then.”
He spins up and out of the boat, twirling into powdered snow on the northern gales. He catches up easily with the riders, cruising slowly just below the cloud-line, sunlight highlighting the veins running through their dragon’s wings. He can’t help but swirl over Hiccup’s ears, fluffing up his hair. Hiccup snorts at that, hand reaching out to wave gently through Jack’s snow.
“Welcome back.” He says as Jack shakes himself into his human form, twirling his staff back into wood.
“Why can’t he see you?” Astrid shouts out, banking Stormfly closer. Everyone else crowds in too, until they’re nearly wing-tip to wing-tip.
Jack snickers. Businessman, what a two-faced bunch. “Well, I think people up here can see me because lots of the Viking folklore is similar to myself. So, I’m guessing that has something to do with it.”
“Wait.” Snotlout says. “Are you saying Johann doesn’t believe in Thor? In Vaettir? He blesses the gods for giving him safe passage like every other time we see him.”
Jack shrugs. “I mean, would Berk give him business if they thought he didn’t believe in your gods?”
There’s a pause around them. Jack turns just in time to see Hiccup’s face go slack, his eyes wide. “Oh my Thor.” He says. “He’s been lying this whole time.”
Jack laughs out loud at that, whipping his head around to see everyone’s expressions.
Ruffnut and Tuffnut stare into space. “Not even Loki? He sold me a pendant he said was blessed by Loki himself!” Tuffnut cries.
The twins start bickering amongst themselves on who actually blessed the pedant if it wasn’t Loki. Jack just shakes his head before turning back towards Hiccup.
“So, what’s next?”
Hiccup shakes himself out of his scowl. He takes a breath, eyes narrowing on the horizon as he centers himself. Jack waits, patient.
“The Edge.”
---
They make it to the Edge by late afternoon.
Everyone disperses in a frenzy the moment they land, unpacking all their items as quickly as possible.
Jack himself just swirls into the main hut, sitting on the tabletop as he waits for everyone else to join him. One of the resident night terrors doesn’t seem to mind his cold body, wiggling in his lap in delight as he scratches it under the chin. It’s white too, really keeping with his whole theme. He grins, running his hands down the dragon’s chin, itching right into the scales. The dragon - he thinks he remembers Tuffnut calling him Smidvarg or something - goes slack with pleasure. He thinks he sees actual smoke pooling out of its mouth. The Wind blows the leaking smoke into little dragons of their own, Jack blowing some snowflakes in the air to dance around with them.
He hears Fishlegs let out an excited squeal and snickers.
“Alright.” Hiccup says, once everyone settles. “Astrid, if you will.”
Astrid nods curtly, leaning forward. “Since Johann only had a physical description of the contact, we should all go scout out the area in the morning. We’ll split off into pairs, keeping an eye out for someone who fits the description: Short and thin, with black hair and a small beard. If someone finds him, send one person off to get the rest of us. Do not let him out of your sight.”
They're actually going to walk around? Jack lights up, swirling into the air, dislodging Smidvarg who hisses before flying out of the hut. “Oh, I can’t wait! A marketplace! I can talk to so many people - all the different shop vendors. I could argue about the potato prices! Or, or, barter for a cool quill!”
He turns to Hiccup, only to see him sharing a frown with Astrid. He reluctantly drops his grin, tilting his head. “What?”
Hiccup takes a step forward, mouth pulled into a thin frown. He’s rubbing his hands together, Jack already knows that’s a bad sign.
“Jack… we need someone to stay with the dragons, make sure nothing happens to them.”
He says it carefully, like he’s toeing around a line with each word. Jack knows that tone of voice. He narrows his eyes. “Bullshit, why can’t I go?”
“Seriously?” Snotlout buts in, raising an eyebrow, hip cocked out to one side. “You’re literally the lord of winter, you think the people at the market are going to see you apparate around the place with your weird hair and ice and just be okay with it?”
“Snotlout.” Hiccup hisses.
Jack pauses, deflating a little. The two continue to argue in the background as Jack sinks back down to the table. He curls up, tucking his staff to his chest. “Oh.”
It’s not like Snotlout is wrong. Jack supposes he’s just gotten too used to Berk.
Hiccup comes into view. He carefully walks up to Jack; each step slow. Not apprehensive, just observing. Jack slumps further. Hiccup rests his hands on Jack’s shoulders. “I’m really sorry, Jack.” He says, squeezing lightly.
“Wait, why don’t we just disguise him? Seems simple enough to me.” Tuffnut pipes up.
Jack perks up slightly, peering over at Tuffnut.
Astrid raises an eyebrow at him. “He has snow-white hair, a weird staff, and literally radiates magic.”
Ruffnut steps forward, pinning Astrid with a stare. “Lose the staff and reign in the snow.” She counters.
Astrid narrows her eyes. “And the hair?” She counters.
Tuffnut turns, looking at Jack, rubbing his chin. “Uhh…. hood?”
“It could blow off too easily.” Hiccup pipes in, leaning back to look at him.
Jack straightens at that. His eyes dart around, a hesitant smile growing on his face.
Fishlegs steps forward, hands rubbing over his arms in thought. “We do have some leftover brown dye, Hiccup. Do you think it would work for his hair?”
Jack snaps his head back towards Hiccup, holding his breath. Something light like hope dangles in his chest. A voice in his head, faint, snaps at him to squash it already, that he shouldn’t expect anything.
But it’s Hiccup looking back at him, face scrunched in thought. Jack sees the gentleness in his eyes where they stare, and he lets that little starlight in his chest grow. Hiccup may not fully understand the extent of Jack’s feelings here, but Jack knows he sees the desperation. Jack sees something give.
“Well, only one way to find out.” Hiccup says, shrugging. He smiles softly down at Jack
Jack beams.
---
They end up wrangling Jack into a chair that they dragged out onto the landing pad outside the main hut, boxing him in as Ruffnut starts layering in the dye.
He wiggles around incessantly in the chair, the armrests on either side blocking his legs from stretching out, until Astrid eventually throws up her hands and shoves him into a stool. She looks properly annoyed by the whole thing, but jokes on her because Jack’s happily sitting criss-cross applesauce now no problem, so there.
Ruffnut’s not exactly gentle about the whole thing. She grabs his chin, tilting his head wherever she needs it with careless hands. At one point he feels her pause, hand still gripping him from where she had been turning his head to the left. She stops rubbing in the dye, and hesitantly keeps pushing his chin - far more gentle than before - until he’s basically staring straight over his shoulder at her. He blinks, confused.
Her face is slack, eyes wide. Jack then wearily notices the silence from the peanut gallery surrounding him.
“Cool.” Ruffnut breathes. Hiccup’s quick to jump in, snapping something about how he’s not some zoo animal and they need to stay on task.
The weird weight in the atmosphere breaks at his words, and Ruffnut whines about Hiccup being a stick in the mud before continuing. Jack relaxes again; he hadn’t even noticed his shoulders stiffening until they drop, hands unclenching around his staff.
They finish right as the last rays of light are dripping back down into the sea. They end up having to dye his eyebrows too, which Jack doesn’t understand why his white eyebrows are suspect but doesn’t even try to argue. He springs from his seat the moment Ruffnut announces that she’s done, wriggling around against the pressure behind his chest until a sizable snow cloud swirls to life and dumps a foot of snow onto the beach below. Much better.
He can hear Hiccup chuckling at that, and turns to him with a smirk, flicking the obligatory swatch of snow at his face in retaliation.
He lands to a crowd of amused faces, shaking out his head like a dog.
“So?” He says, flashing everyone a smile. “How do I look?”
Astrid and Fishlegs are standing side by side, hands on their chins. “Huh.” Is all Astrid says, narrowing her eyes.
“You look like halfway normal.” Snotlout says, a little disbelieving. Jack doesn’t know what ‘halfway normal’ even means, so ices the ground underneath him just to be safe. Snotlout loses his footing with a squawk, Astrid snorting as he tumbles to the ground. Hookfang doesn’t even try to help, just huffs before flying off down towards the stables. The other dragons, barring Toothless, have all already perched down there for the night.
Toothless himself takes a few careful steps towards Jack, leaning his head in to sniff at Jack’s head. His head fins twitch, inquisitive gurgles rumbling from his mouth. Jack giggles at the way Toothless’s snorting puffs up his hair, booping him on the nose with his staff. A dapple of ice sprouts from his scales, and Toothless jerks back, sneezing. Jack snickers at that, watching Toothless shake his head, before turning towards Hiccup.
He’s staring right at Jack, eyes wide, his cheeks dusted a light pink.
Well, that’s an interesting reaction.
Jack leans against his staff, smile hesitant. “I look human enough to you, Hic?” He asks cheekily, pressing his smile against the swirl of wood and iron.
Hiccup turns even more pink at the display, like a little primrose in a field. He tries to answer, then cuts himself off, coughing roughly into his hand. Astrid shoots him a teasing look, which Jack catches. His smile turns more confident at that, curling impishly.
“Yeah, you uh. I think you’ll blend in okay.” Hiccup murmurs.
Before Jack can respond to that adorable little answer, Snotlout buts in, frowning. “Okay, he looks kind of normal, but he still might get caught.”
“Oh.” Ruffnut says, stepping forward. “Leave that to us.”
Tuffnut perks up, hopping up next to Ruff as he pulls a random notebook out of Manny knows where, flipping to a page.
“Alright.” Tuffnut says, rubbing his hands together. “How to Act Human 101.”
Jack puts his hands on his hips, smile turning smug. “I think I know a thing or two.” He says, waggling his eyebrows. “I have been watching you humans bumble around for the past 300 years or so.”
Hiccup huffs a laugh over by Astrid. “Oh, yeah?” He says, raising an eyebrow.
Fishlegs lets out a gasp. “What have you seen?”
Before Jack can respond, Ruff and Tuff are crowding into his space.
“You may have seen a few humans in your time.” Ruffnut proclaims. “But we are the experts on human behavior.”
“For Thor’s sake if the twins teach him how to act human we’re going to have a third Thorston running around.” Snotlout groans.
“Isn’t that basically what it’s already like?” Astrid quips, shooting Jack a sharp grin. He shrugs, because, yeah. He doesn’t really have an argument against that. Nor is he particularly repentant, to be honest.
“Alright .” Ruffnut yells over everyone. “First rule of acting human: we don’t actually fly.”
Snotlout and Jack bark a laugh. “Oh yeah, real riveting list.” Snotlout sneers.
“I’m not talking about him floating around.” Ruffnut bites out, turning towards Snotlout. “He does this weird thing when he walks like he’s underwater or something.” She turns back to Jack. “You have to actually put some weight into your steps. And stop walking on your toes. Oh, and wear shoes.” She tacks on at the end.
“Shoes is rule number two. Which Ruffnut and I still hate, so we understand your pain and are jealous of your elusion to this horrendous requirement.” Tuffnut says, nodding solemnly.
Jack blinks, looking down and wiggling his toes. Huh, does he really walk weird?
“Yeah, that actually makes sense.” Hiccup mumbles, mostly to himself. Jack jerks his head up to see him with his arms crossed, looking at Jack thoughtfully.
“What?” Jack squawks, holding his staff over his chest, curling in slightly on himself. Astrid snorts at that, but Hiccup steps forward.
“It’s not a bad thing, Jack.” He reassures, giving him a warm smile. “It’s really cool, if you think about it. It’s just something that might get picked up on in a crowd. We’re looking to be inconspicuous here, we need to blend in as much as possible. All of us.” He sends some warning looks around the group, which makes Jack chuckle. He shakes himself out, before straightening.
“Alright.” He says, resolute. “What else, lay it on me.”
“Well, I mean.” Astrid says, raising an eyebrow. “That, for one.” She points to the ground.
Jack looks down and sees a sprinkle of snow around his feet, no doubt having fell off his shoulders from his shaking. He looks up, shrugging in apology.
“And that.” Astrid adds, looking more gleeful by the second, pointing at his face.
He pats his cheeks, hands wiping away the light hoarfrost that had bloomed there. Oh.
It’s like that exchange opens the floodgates, because the next thing he knows the rest of the riders are piling on comments.
“He also has blue veins, so he should probably still wear a hood just to be safe.” Fishlegs adds, writing something down.
“And his eyes are literal snowflakes.” Snotlout says.
“And you should stop having those snow clouds form over your head.”
“Yeah, and the ice that sometimes just starts dancing around you, put a pause on that.”
“And watch how you move your limbs. I’ve seen you move that head and your arms in ways I didn’t think possible, man.”
“And don’t shake anyone’s hand, you’re kind of freezing cold.”
“And stop talking to yourself, that’s kind of weird.”
“He’s talking to the wind , Tuff.”
“Okay, well stop talking to the wind , then.”
“And he needs to lose the staff.”
“And he needs some new clothes.”
“And boots.”
“And-”
“Alright ! That’s enough for tonight.” Hiccup shouts, raising a hand. He shoots Jack a worried look. It’s only then that Jack realizes how much he’s tensed up. How tight his grip on his staff is. He looks down to see himself floating a good few inches off the ground.
“We’ll meet here at sunrise, packed and ready.” Hiccup finishes, dismissing everyone. Astrid looks at Jack before she turns to leave, face tight, apologetic. He gives her a small smile in response, planting his feet back onto the deck. She relaxes, giving him a nod before turning and heading back to her hut.
Jack watches everyone walk off. Hiccup comes up to stand beside him, arms crossed. Jack can feel Toothless, a solid presence at their back, stand back up again. Hiccup bumps their shoulders, placing a tentative hand between Jack’s shoulder blades.
“You okay?” He asks.
Jack leans into his side easily, like falling. Hiccup curls his arm around Jack’s shoulder and holds him close without a second thought.
“Yeah, sorry for freaking out on you guys.” Jack mumbles, slipping a hand around Hiccup’s waist. He loops a finger through one of Hiccup’s belt loops.
Hiccup chuckles, steering Jack towards his hut. Toothless gives them both a little shove to the back before darting off, gliding on silent breathy wings over to the roof hatch.
“You didn’t freak out, just. Maybe got a bit overwhelmed. Which was understandable.”
Jack snorts, tugging the belt loop. He leans his head onto Hiccup’s shoulder. He can feel the way the cold folds around the man, how the Wind blows against him. The hand on his shoulder squeezes gently. Hiccup doesn’t shiver, doesn’t lean away. But Jack still wonders, frowning.
“Am I really that cold?” He asks, eyes trained on the ground.
Hiccup’s quiet for a moment. They walk up the steps to his hut. He pauses at the door, turning towards Jack.
“If I said no I would be lying.” He says, an amused lilt to his voice. Jack huffs a laugh in response, frown fading. “It’s not a bad cold, though.” Hiccup continues, smile pushing up against his nose as he gazes down at Jack. “I like it.”
With that he opens the door. Jack steps in, turning. “No one likes being cold all the time, though.” He argues, quirking an eyebrow. “You don’t even know the amount of people I hear complaining about the weather. You must want something warmer.”
Hiccup sniffs, shrugging. “My best friend is a fire-breathing reptile.” He snarks, tilting his head over to where Toothless is blowing himself a fire circle on his rock slab. “Standing within five feet of him gives me all the warmth I need.”
Hiccup steps into Jack’s personal bubble, cupping his face. “I don’t need some one warmer. I like what I have.” He whispers.
Jack snakes one hand up until it’s curled right over Hiccup’s pulse, his heartbeat thrumming almost addictively under Jack’s fingers. He plants his other hand over Hiccup’s chest, tugging a bit on his shirt.
“I’m not like you, Hiccup. I don’t even know what I am, my own creator refuses to say. I don’t know if I’m a someone.” Jack mumbles.
Because humans are someones, not creatures, unknowns, like him. Jack doesn’t even think Hiccup notices himself calling that Torrent a monster. But Jack probably has more in common with that wind spirit than he does with the people of Berk. It’s probably easy to forget, for them.
But Jack still feels the big question mark hanging over him, like a chain.
Hiccup furrows his brows. He knocks their foreheads together, just hard enough to jar Jack into peering up. “I don’t care what the moon says - you count. You’re somebody, Jack.” He says, determined. Without an ounce of doubt in his voice.
Jack can’t help but melt slightly at that. Hiccup’s eyes are so green : like the dragon asleep by his bedside, like the pine forests of his isle. Solid, unyielding. He falls into the look, lets himself fall into those steady words, maybe even lets himself believe them.
He darts forward and nips lightly at Hiccup’s nose, chuckling at the way Hiccup jumps slightly, an indigent frown twisting onto his face.
“It’s getting late, primrose. We should get to bed.” Jack murmurs. He hears Toothless groan above them before purposely turning over.
They both chuckle at the display. “Alright, you big lug. We’re going.” Hiccup calls.
Once on the bed Jack manages to wrangle Hiccup’s leg stump onto his lap while he undoes the top of his flight suit. Jack can see the way Hiccup’s muscles jump underneath his fingers, tense and just a tad too warm. The long flight must have begun to take its toll. Jack just flakes some soft ice to the edge of his fingertips before massaging that cool into the worn-down skin.
It doesn’t take long for Hiccup to be sprawled out onto the bed, the tenseness from the day physically draining from his face.
The silence is comfortable. Jack didn’t know silence could be so companionable, that it could be shared in this way. Silence used to be an ugly thing, but he’s quickly finding he doesn’t mind the quiet as much now.
“You shouldn’t spoil me like this.” Hiccup murmurs. “I might get used to it.”
Jack snorts. He smooths over one last spot before leaning down and kissing Hiccup's knee. Then, he crawls up Hiccup’s body, plopping himself down with a chin on his chest.
“I’ll stop once you actually start taking care of yourself.” Jack says haughtily, rubbing his nose into Hiccup’s soft sleep shirt.
Hiccup raises his head to look down at Jack, his expression a mixture of amused and fond. It has Jack grinning like a loon.
“I take care of myself perfectly fine, thank you very much. There’s no blisters or anything.” Hiccup snarks right back.
“Ah, but it’s still all tense and sore at the end of the day.”
Hiccup sneaks a hand up Jack’s back, rolling them gently. Jack lets himself fall onto the bed. Hiccup props himself up over Jack on an elbow, meeting Jack’s own grin.
“Well, that’s what I have you for.” He says.
“Oh I see, just keep me around for my cool hands, then.” Jack says, batting his eyelashes up at Hiccup. He snakes his hands underneath Hiccup’s shirt, letting them wander over his chest, his back, fingers tracing over his spine.
Hiccup’s chuckle rumbles right from his chest, low with a pleased hum. His eyes are half-lidded, darting to Jack’s lips as he leans down.
Jack shivers.
“That, and a few other things.” Hiccup mumbles, before lowering the rest of the way and capturing Jack’s lips.
Jack sighs into the kiss, dragging Hiccup down closer, snaking a hand up to curl around the hair at the nape of Hiccup’s neck.
This is what Jack likes to imagine sitting at a fire is like, to others. Being surrounded so completely by a hazy warmth. Hiccup kisses him slowly, leisurely. Like he has all the time in the world. One of his hands comes up to cup Jack’s jaw, tilting his head, and Jack hums pleasantly into the feeling.
He can feel Hiccup smile lightly as he swallows the noise. Then he’s licking into Jack’s mouth and he melts, fingers digging into Hiccup’s back to press him closer, to wrap himself wholly around the body above him.
Hiccup slows, pulls back with a few parting kisses to the corner of his mouth, to his nose.
“Will you stay?” He asks, hand reaching back to wrap around one of Jack’s wrists.
Jack blinks, settling back to reality. He looks at his arms to see them fuzzy, looking almost out of focus. He sees where Hiccup holds his wrist, how his fingers sink into Jack’s skin a bit too much - like he’s somewhere halfway between skin and snow. He can feel the way Hiccup’s muscles along his back bend and stretch, and wonders how much he’s actually wrapped himself around the man.
A spark of panic, the beginning surges of dawning horror, wash over him at the observation. His eyes begin to shake.
His spiral gets abruptly cut off, though, when Hiccup squeezes his wrist, leaning down and kissing the bridge of his nose.
Jack looks into Hiccup's eyes. And, and he doesn’t see an ounce of fear there; of disgust, or whatever other mix of emotions he keeps expecting to pop up one of these days, as he slowly loses more and more of his control around the man.
He takes a deep breath, feeling himself solidify, Hiccup’s hands gliding over his skin once again.
“Of course.” He whispers. “I have some snowstorms, but I’ll be back before you’re awake.”
Hiccup hums in response, before dropping down right on top of Jack. Jack squeaks as Hiccup’s full weight comes down on him, the body shaking from Hiccup’s laughter. He can’t help but let out a few wheezing giggles as well, only managing to wiggle out from underneath the man with a fair amount of petulant kicking and shoving.
It takes another few good minutes before they settle: Jack a curled ball at Hiccup’s side, nose pressed into his collarbone. He closes his eyes and sinks into the feeling of Hiccup around him. How his hold on Jack slowly loosens. How the rise and fall of his chest steadies into a slow rhythm.
Hiccup unfurls like a flower in his sleep, mouth open as he sprawls into a tangle of limbs and blanket. Jack can’t help but prop himself up on an elbow and laugh silently at the messy display. He leaves a feather light kiss to the man’s chin before he begins the slow process of untangling himself.
He floats over to the floor, snagging his staff, before turning. Toothless opens an eye at his approaching figure.
He snorts at the annoyed look the dragon gives him.
“Sorry for interrupting your beauty sleep.” He whispers, trailing a hand over his head, nails lightly scratching along his ridge spikes.
Toothless rumbles, leaning into his hand. Jack’s whole face softens. He kneels. “I’ll be back before morning.”
Toothless twists himself over, nuzzling gently against Jack’s neck, before he flips back and folds himself up again in his wings. Jack takes that for the goodnight it is and twists himself out of the window, landing nimbly on the roof.
He scratches at his hair, still feeling some of the dye. He pauses.
“Might as well see the hair job, right?” He says, grinning up at the Wind before darting down to the beach side.
Jack stares at his reflection in the water, and he feels the world pause around him.
Not stop, just pause. Like when you pass somebody in a crowd, and realize you recognize them a few moments afterwards.
He looks into the water, and a boy looks back at him. A boy who he swears looks familiar. His head feels light all of a sudden, airy. He sways, gut dropping with the movement, and he clenches his eyes shut.
But behind his eyelids all he can see are those flashes from his stupid nightmares.
Those same nightmares that he can’t seem to get out of his head. From those two months asleep.
They’re jumbled, like flipping through a stack of photographs out of order. But they’re so sharp they feel real. Some part of Jack knows that they’re real, that he’s seeing something that happened. He just doesn’t know what.
All he knows is that he’s ice-skating with this little girl. And they’re talking, and she sees him. And when he sees her something clenches tight around his heart until he chokes. Then, he’s falling through the ice.
It’s like those dreams have put a crack in a dam, because it doesn’t stop there. Now there will be these moments: someone will offer him some stew and he’ll stare at the bowl and remember something. Not even a memory, just a feeling. The ghost of a pang in his stomach.
He saw a little girl over in France a month ago and nearly ran into a shopfront, so overcome by the way she parted her hair, and suddenly he remembered playing hopscotch. Not watching, playing.
And now he’s staring at another ghost in the water, and this image hollows out his chest and leaves him empty, stuck.
He feels the sudden need to move, to run. The Wind swirls him in tight circles until he dissipates, sweeping his snowflakes high into the air until the atmosphere becomes thin and gasping, sharp under the blanket of the night sky. He can feel the tug of a storm clawing desperately at his skin, unrepentant to his feelings, dragging him until he’s over the high steppe.
He doesn’t mind. It’s times like these where he needs a good storm. Some time to think.
He forms over the shallow hills, closes his eyes, and lets himself go. He can feel the Wind howling with glee, ice shards slicing through the gales. He opens his eyes and stares at the way the snow whips in violent ribbons, shapes forming in the chaos.
But he can’t seem to shake that boy from his mind, no matter how much he gets tossed around by the snow. Jack Frost began at the bottom of a frozen lake. Jack Frost was given his essence by name from the moon. And yet, and yet. And yet Jack thinks of that little girl, of hopscotch. Of the boy looking back at him from the water.
He stares up at the moon, streaked through the waves of the clouds and snow, and wonders.
Was that boy me ?