Toothfairy intern

they are just so grossly in love (I’m throwing up)

Jack is still in bed, because of course he is.

His white hair pokes out from the bottom of the sheets, having somehow twisted 180° since Hiccup left the bed at 6 that morning, tufts of it sprawling every which way. It's no different than it looks every day, windswept and tosled, taking personal offense to the laws of gravity. Hiccup's heart thumps painfully anyway from where he's leaned against the bedroom door. Is this his life? Sighing like a romcom boyfriend while his romcom boyfriend snores in their mass of winter blankets?

Hiccup chuckles to himself, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. Jack doesn't stir; Hiccup's smile grows. He runs a hand through Jack's hair, slowly, just admiring the act of it, the white strands parting like snow through his freckled fingers. "Wake up, Jack," he whispers. "It's almost 10 o'clock."

Jack mumbles something into the sheets, but stubbornly doesn't stir. Hiccup continues his ministrations, running his blunt fingernails lightly over Jack's scalp. That has Jack sighing into the pillows. Hiccup's heart does acrobatics in his chest, or maybe free style jazz. Possibly the parkour he watches Jack do for the neighborhood kids, or the little dance he likes to do in their living room when he's convinced Hiccup to do something.

Jack pokes his head out of the covers, bleary eyes squinting up at Hiccup. "S'too early," he rumbles. Then, "You should join me."

The idea is tempting. Hiccup shakes his head. "I've got that thing down at the highschool today. Goober wants me to do a demonstration."

Jack blinks at that, slow and lethargic, the gears in his head visibly turning. Hiccup loves him always, but there's something wonderful about him in the moments between his quick responses, where he lets the world in before tossing it back out shaped in snowballs.

"Oh," Jack says. "Right. That's today. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

Jack snorts, scooting up further in bed. He throws his arms lazily over a pillow, head propped up to look at Hiccup properly. Hiccup takes his hand from Jack's hair as he adjusts, and then goes right back to musing it, much to Jack's visible contentment. "Oh, I'm not sorry. I'm Jack."

Hiccup rolls his eyes but can't find it in him to retort. He's smitten with the image, with Jack and his pale shoulder sloping out of the cream duvet, his sleep-crusted eyes, a dark sploch of drool peeking at the bottom of the pillow.

Jack watches him for a moment, eyes flickering across his face. "Hey," he says softly, voice still laden in sleep, "you okay?"

Hiccup runs his nails along Jack's scalp again, toward the back of his head where his hair miraculously lies flat. "Yeah," he says, and he is. He's content. He's happy in a way he didn't know he could be, in the little moments. Oh, if his younger self knew what was in store. "I'm good."

He leans down to kiss Jack, and the angle is a little funny, but Jack leans into him anyway, his mouth sweet and slow. "Lay with me a minute?" He asks as Hiccup breaks away. There's a smile tugging at his face, exactly where it belongs, and Hiccup wants to see his crows feet deepen. Wants to know where his laugh lines goes. Hiccup wants a life of laundry and taxes with this man. He wants a life of playing with Toothless for as long as they have him, and having a voice tumble through the room at 90 miles a minute while he's working on projects. Hiccup wants it all, feverishly, fervently.

He flicks Jack ear, just to watch his smile widen as he snorts. He has time later today to ring shop, he thinks.

"Okay."

And then he obliges his boyfriend, laying down beside him, letting the morning wash over them thick and bright and wonderful. What a life indeed.

________

@midoristeashop You can't just keep making bangers, it's not FAIR. I CAN'T KEEP HAVING FEELINGS EVERYTIME YOU POST AAAAAAAA

@ryan-says-hi YOU MADE MY MORNING I LOVE YOU

And also how dare you how I am I supposed to move on from this ever

WHAT THE SHUFCK