
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/733082.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rise_of_the_Guardians_(2012)
  Relationship:
      E._Aster_Bunnymund/Jack_Frost, Jack_Frost_&_Toothiana, Jamie_Bennett_&
      Jack_Frost, Jack_Frost_&_Nicholas_St._North, Jack_Frost_&_Sanderson
      Mansnoozie
  Character:
      Jack_Frost_(Rise_of_the_Guardians), E._Aster_Bunnymund, Sanderson
      Mansnoozie, Toothiana, Nicholas_St._North, Jamie_Bennett_(Rise_of_the
      Guardians)
  Additional Tags:
      The_Guardians_are_totally_Bro's, Jack's_side_of_the_story, Flirting,
      Domestic, Jack's_an_adrenaline_junkie, Lots_of_feels_in_this_so_far,
      Companion_Piece, Why_do_all_my_stories_descend_into_fithy_smut?
  Series:
      Part 2 of Whatever_Ever_You_Want
  Collections:
      Evil_Authors_Club
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-24 Completed: 2013-03-31 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 12932
****** Look After You ******
by Scarecrowqueen
Summary
     Now that Jack had made up his mind to help, there wasn’t a force on
     Earth that could stop him. Some called it stubbornness; Jack
     preferred to call it dedication. He’d see that damn Rabbit sit still,
     eat a full meal and get some proper sleep if he had to hold the moody
     bastard down and force him too.
     Sister/Companion fic to "Of Heart(h) and Home" because so many people
     wanted Jack's side of the story. If Heart(h) is essentially 'Five
     time Jack gatecrashed Aster's burrow and made himself useful, and One
     time he didn't have to leave,' then this fic is 'Five conversations
     Jack had about Bunny, and One he had with him.'
Notes
     I did a thing, guys. I didn't mean too, Heart(h) was meant to be a
     one-shot, which became a chaptered fic once I realized that I needed
     far more than a couple pages to tell everything that my Aster-muse
     was feeding me. Of course, no sooner had a posted the epilogue and
     silenced the Aster-voice in my brain then the Jack-voice started up,
     complaining about how I'd been ignoring him, and inquiring minds
     wanted to hear his side of things, and why won't I just start writing
     already?
     So, here it is, Jack's entire thoughts on the matter. This is shaping
     up to be a verse in my head now, with a possible third part if the
     muses keep being as noisy as they are. So, without further ado,
     please enjoy!
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Everything Shines But Leaves Me Empty Still *****
“Is Bunny ok?” The question came somewhat out of left field, making Jack blink
a bit, peering quizzically at Jamie across the math homework Jack was currently
helping him with. Jack didn’t know when school got so complicated for kids so
young, but he was glad that he’d had nothing better to do for three hundred
years of nights he didn’t need to sleep and summers where he was unneeded by
most of the population and he decided that educating himself was a top
priority. Well actually, it had snowballed from deciding that learning to read
would be beneficial since there was no one who could see him to read to him,
and society seemed to be becoming more and more dependent on written words for
organization on functionality. Once he could read there was nothing stopping
him from looking up anything he felt like; not like the locked doors of a
closed library could stop someone who couldn’t be seen picking them. After that
things had just snowballed, his natural inquisitiveness taking over until he
found himself crashing university lectures and losing entire weeks hiding out
in the back corner of a library after hours, devouring subject after subject in
a never-ending quest to know why. Jack didn’t consider himself brilliant or
anything, just particularly well read on a long list of diverse and eclectic
subjects that Jack found fascinating.
Long division though, well, Jack and long division had a long-standing mutual
animosity, and he had no clue why any nine-year old would conceivably need to
know it.
“Jack, are you listening?” Jack blinked abruptly brought back into the present
from his mental tangent. This was getting to be a problem, despite having been
a guardian for six months he still occasionally found his mind wandering off,
often in the middle of a conversation. Jack knew that it would take time yet to
retrain himself away from habits formed during three centuries of no one caring
if he spaced out, but his inability to hold up his end of a discussion was
getting a bit ridiculous. And if Jamie’s concerned look was any indication, he
was dangerously close to doing it for the second time in as many minutes.
Gathering his thoughts and rewinding back to the original question, Jack was
forced to admit that he didn’t think he could answer the question with a
confident yes. Not wanting to alarm the rather sensitive boy, Jack decided that
obfuscating the issue was the best immediate solution.
“Gee Jamie, why would you ask?” Jamie scowled at Jack with such force that Jack
was surprised and suddenly defensive, feeling like he should be expecting an
accusation any time now.
“Because last time he came over to see Sophie he looked like my mom after three
weeks on nights?” Ah, that. Jack mentally cursed, he sometimes forgot that
Jamie was sharp as a tack and scarily observant, the kid missed nothing,
seriously. It was undeniably true, too, Lately at the last couple ‘Guardian
Gatherings’ as North had taken to calling them, Bunny had looked more and more
worn down, although he’d denied it to any who’d asked, at one point snapping at
a well-meaning Tooth so fiercely she’d cried after he’d stomped away. Jack had
been furious and well-prepared to give him a piece of his mind, but the
strained look on North’s face as he and Sandy had comforted their feathered
friend had stopped him. I was obvious North was concerned to, and Jack had to
admit the feeling was mutual. Bunny had a temper yes, but it only got truly
nasty and uncalled for when he was already feeling stressed and needed a
convenient, if inappropriate outlet. Because heaven forbid Bunny actually
talked about his feelings like a normal individual. Well, for a given value of
normal at least, considering that a six foot tall Rabbity-looking creature from
outer space was perhaps one of the less-strange immortals Jack had ever
stumbled over in his existence. And Jamie was giving him that look again; Jack
really needed to learn some focus, like, yesterday. Now, where was he? Right,
dodging the question.
“They had your mom on nights again? Dude, bummer.” Jack felt genuine sympathy,
Jamie’s mom was a nurse at the local emergency clinic, being on nights meant
she barely saw her children and husband, and, as Jack had seen firsthand, was
usually so exhausted from the 12 hours shifts that she was a practical Zombie.
Not like Jack was a Zombie in the reanimated-corpse way, more like a really-
tired-person-in-need-of-more-sleep Zombie.
Conversation with Jamie, right. Focus Jack, focus.
“You’re not saying you haven’t noticed?” Jamie seems slightly accusatory, like
Jack’s failing as a friend and fellow Guardian by not dropping everything to
immediately rectify the problem. Jack couldn’t blame the kid for feeling that
way, not when Jack agreed that he probably was a shitty friend for having let
it go so long. Admittedly though, Bunny was difficult to get along with on his
good days, on his bad it was nearly impossible, and Jack and Bunny had never
been on good terms exactly. Oh sure, things were loads better now that Easter
’68 was forgiven and forgotten, but Bunny, like Jack, and well, all the
Guardians really, was an intense personality and took just the right touch to
handle properly, and Jack didn’t think he yet had that down to a fine science
yet, despite the time they’d spent together. Turns out, Bunny had as large a
love of obscure trivia as Jack did, and they often spent time trying to outdo
each other in a friendly know-it-all competition. It was amazing how Jack’s
usually nonexistent attention span could be held by one person for several
hours without him drifting off, Jack had blamed it on a combination of the
mental stimulation, and the fact that Bunny was just such a larger-than-life
person that he was impossible for Jack to ignore even for a moment
inadvertently.
Well, at least they had been spending time together, until bit by bit Bunny had
slowly been more and more absorbed in his Easter preparations, the last couple
times Jack had dropped by the Warren Bunny had barely stopped to grunt a hello
before turning back to whatever he’d been doing when Jack had arrived. Come to
think about it, that was when everyone had begun to notice a decline in Bunny’s
wellbeing...
Aw hell. Jack was way too clever to be this damn stupid.
“You’re right Jamie.” The boy blinked at Jack’s statement, clearly expecting to
be told he was wrong and to mind his own business.
“I am?”
“Yeah kid, you are. Now, let’s get this math stuff done before dinner so I can
go check up on tall, dark and furry.” Jamie cracked a smile at the amusing
moniker, turning his attention back to his homework again, carefully working
out the equation, tongue poking out in concentration. Jack watched him fondly
as he worked, while mentally he was pondering his options. If Bunny was
stressing out of this coming Easter, then the best way to ease his friend’s
burden would be to offer to help.
An offer the Bunny, with all his numerous pride issues, would never accept. Not
that Jack would be much help with Easter preparations anyways, not really
within the scope of his particular talents. No matter, he’d just show up and
find a way to be useful. Jack was a fairly competent individual; growing up a
Colonial kid had pretty much forced it on him. Jack would bet serious money
that if he looked hard enough, he could probably find something to do to give
Bunny a chance to ease off a bit, and if Bunny didn’t want him there? Well, too
bad. Now that Jack had made up his mind to help, there wasn’t a force on Earth
that could stop him. Some called it stubbornness; Jack preferred to call it
dedication. He’d see that damn Rabbit sit still, eat a full meal and get some
proper sleep if he had to hold the moody bastard down and force him too.
Now that he thought about it, a good meal was probably the perfect place to
start. Plan of action decided, Jack turned his attentions back to the numbers
on the page. Bunny wouldn’t know what hit him, and Jack figured there was a
fairly low margin of error if he treads carefully enough on Bunny’s fragile
ego.
After all, he was only going to make Bunny a meal, what could possibly be wrong
with that?
***** But You, Turn Me Toward the Light *****
Chapter Summary
     Truth be told, Jack hated the Tooth palace with a deep and abiding
     passion. Oh, the place was lovely, and the occupants were always
     fantastic company, which made visiting more than worthwhile, but by
     MiM, the heat.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Truth be told, Jack hated the Tooth palace with a deep and abiding passion. Oh,
the place was lovely, and the occupants were always fantastic company, which
made visiting more than worthwhile, but by MiM, the heat. Contrary to popular
opinion, popular being the Burgess kids spearheaded by Jamie, Jack wouldn’t
actually melt in this kind of ambient heat. Jack's innate magic kept him cool
enough for survival in just about any place on Earth, save maybe the belly of
an active volcano, but give him a break, only fire elementals could survive a
place like that! No, Jack wasn’t going to melt away in a big puddle, in fact it
wasn’t even enough to keep him away from his favorite believers during the
summertime, he just had to keep his visits shorter, is all. No, Jack wasn’t in
danger from the heat so much as it just made him uncomfortable. See, most
people just sweated a lot and turned red in high temperatures, but Jack? Jack
didn’t do any of that, he was incapable of it. Instead picture this; Jack gets
pins and needles. Worst feeling on Earth right there, when your foot starts to
‘wake up’ after falling asleep. Jack had hated the natural phenomenon as a
human, and now, in warm places, like say, oh Tooth’s chosen home, there was no
escaping the gradual creep of gooseflesh across his skin until, eventually, the
tingling would start. After that it was all downhill until his skin felt like
it was crawling with fire ants and he was forced to make a hasty exit back to
cooler climates.
Jack’s heat tolerance had gotten a lot better actually since he’d started
collecting believers. They numbers in the thousands now, in fact,
thankyouverymuch! Even with the added boost though, he still only had the
staying power to hold out for about four hours before the discomfort became
unbearable. Lucky for Jack, both Tooth and Sandy had long since understood that
and neither held his limitations against him, a fact that both startled and
humbled him in turns. Jack knew that he was somewhat raw around the edges,
three hundred years of being nothing but unseen by humans and an annoyance at
best to the majority of the spirits he’d stumbled across had left him jaded and
wary, forever waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jack also knew that none of
him companions seemed to realize this, save for Bunny who so sharp he never
seemed to miss a thing, damn that oversized rodent. Well, Bunny and Jamie to an
extent. Jack didn’t think Jamie was old enough to have the context required for
understanding, but there was just something about the way he handled Jack with
kid gloves, no pun intended, that told Jack the adorable little half-pint had
noticed that something was not quite on par with his frosty friend. From anyone
else, the soft touch would have been unappreciated in the extreme, but from
Jamie? Well, Jack had always been a sucker for kids, especially those that
called him ‘brother.’
Jack also knew that he was lucky that Tooth was enthusiastic enough to carry on
a conversation with minimal input from the other participant, or else his lapse
in attention would have long since been noticed. Not that he didn’t care what
Tooth had to say, it’s just that Jack was still working on the focus thing.
Although, at this point the winter spirit was starting to think that he was the
poster child for an ADHD diagnosis. Come to think of it, that thought might
have merit. Jack still had those textbooks stashed at North’s, he should give
the DSM-4 a quick browse for some further info, maybe he could figure out some
sort of strategy to mitigate his symptoms...
Right, conversation with Tooth. Focus Jack, focus.
“And then I took a look at the premolar, and Jack you’ve never seen a cavity so
horrible! What are they teaching kids today?” Jack couldn’t help a chuckle at
his friend’s obvious distress. He sometimes felt that Tooth’s priorities were
slightly skewed, but hey, he’d once iced the roads to make a busload of nuns
slide into a pole outside a strip club for no reason other than it seemed funny
at the time. No one was hurt thankfully, but the look on the nuns faces when
they realized where all the good Samaritans who’d run to give aid had just come
from? Well, Jack didn’t think he’d ever seen a group of women be so horrified
at touching a man’s hand in his life. Not that Jack could blame them, he knew
what he’d have been doing with his hands if he’d been in that strip club and it
wasn’t playing patty cake with the bartender. Damn the ‘joys’ of an eternal
puberty, anyways. Well, once he’d figured out that his heartbeat, like
breathing, eating sleeping and all other bodily functions other people took for
granted came with an on/off switch, that is. Hard to jack off (gigglesnort)
without a functioning funpole.
Hell Jack, you’re in the presence of a lady, focus!
“I think decent oral hygiene has sadly gone the way of the Dodo as far as
parenting is concerned. You know, right on the heels of ‘common sense,’ ‘work
ethic,’ and ‘integrity and moral decency.’” Jack hated to speak ill of the
children he’d sworn to watch over, but he couldn’t help but feeling that
sometimes there were fighting a losing battle, and they had all the less-than-
fantastic parent’s to thank for it. Tooth nods sagely across the table from
him, teacup in hand.
“I worry Jack sometimes Jack about the world we’ll see a hundred, two hundred
years from now.” Jack can’t help but agree, lips pressed in a thin line.
Silence falls over the two friends, each taking a minute to sip at their tea
and compose their thoughts. Jack relaxes first, huffing a sigh as he leans back
in his chair, stretching bare feet out in front of him, where a small flock of
half a dozen mini-fairies shift to follow, cooing to each other over the
perfection of his narrow toes, or something. A bunch of crazed foot fetishists,
that bunch were right there.
“So, speaking of worrying, I dropped in on Bunny a couple days back.” Jack had
expected the topic would cause some surprise, but he wasn’t expecting Tooth’s
distressed little squeak or her suddenly painfully wide eyes.
“Oh no Jack, tell me you didn’t!” Jack blinks, confused as anything at her
vehemence.
“Um, yeah? I don’t see what’s the big whoop, I mean I washed some dishes and
had dinner with the guy. Who looked better at the end of it, I swear. I didn’t
even poke fun or frost his doorstep or anything. You’d have been proud of me
Tooth; I was the very pinnacle of maturity and restraint.” Now it’ Tooth’s turn
to blink at him, long and slow.
“You washed dishes? Had dinner? Jack, you just walked into his home? Pooka’s
don’t, well; they don’t really do that stuff. I don’t know all the details,
Bunny’s never told me but it’s some cultural thing, you don’t just do that.”
Jack was forced to shrug, giving Tooth an easy grin in the hopes of calming her
fears.
“I know, I was worried he’d be mad too, but he didn’t seem anything more than
surprised. Also, he totally needed his dishes done, mean you shoulda seen the
pile; it was taller than I am! And no jokes about everything being taller than
I am, I’m not that short!” Despite her reservations Tooth giggles into her hand
and favours Jack with a fond smile.
“Well if you say so. Are you going to go back?” Jack nods in confirmation.
“Yeah someone’s gotta keep an eye on him, and he was dumb enough to give me an
open invite, so he’d better just try to keep me out!” At this Tooth looks
perplexed again and Jack can’t help but wonder how many times he was going to
manage to cause that expression today.
“An open invite? That’s... highly unusual. Bunny values his privacy, I don’t
think even Sandy has that privilege.” Now Jack was surprised, of all the
Guardians he’d expected Sandy to also have free access. It was a well-known
fact that the two of them were some of the oldest immortals currently occupying
the planet and as such were pretty chummy. Jack honestly didn’t know what to
think of a world where Bunny had chosen his unlimited company over the freaking
Sandman, who was a long-time friend and just plain awesome to boot. Some of his
consternation must have shown because Tooth took pity on him, reaching one
slight hand across the table to rest on his forearm.
“I wouldn’t worry Jack, if Bunny didn’t want you there he’d let you know. He’s
certainly not quiet about his displeasures!” Jack couldn’t help but laugh in
agreement with Tooth’s observation.
“Yeah, I’ll stick my head in again tomorrow, and if you get my body back in
individually packaged pieces, you’ll know how it went. Just don’t forget to
stitch it back together properly so everything heals right, I don’t want to be
stumbling about on backwards legs or something.” As usual Tooth looked trapped
between a giggle and a horrified expression at Jack’s casual reference to his
status as a member of the walking dead, which was progress over the straight up
horror all his friends had sported when he’d first told them about his memories
all those months ago. Apparently death and resurrection weren’t actually
standard fare for this particular gang, go figure. If Jack succeeded in one
thing during his tenure as a Guardian it would be bombarding his friends with
bad Zombie jokes until they finally stopped fretting about it so damn much.
Well, everyone save Bunny, the Pooka had just blinked a couple times then
shrugged it off, even going as far as making a couple of jokes at Jack’s
expense when the opportunity arose.
“Just... Be careful Jack. Bunny’s skin isn’t always as thick as it seems.”
Tooth’s words are solemn, and Jack takes them at full face value, he knows that
he still has a bit of a reputation among his friends as somewhat reckless and
impulsive. It’s a reputation he’s earned in spades over the years and he can’t
fault her for her concern, considering she’s never met Jackson Overland, the
big brother, the doting son, the boy who became Man of the House far too young
and, despite his love of tricks and games always knew when it was time to put
childish things aside and be the man his family needed.
“I will Tooth, cross my heart.” Jack’s reassuring smile is met with a glowing
one from the feathered lady across from him, and he feels the tension slip from
his slim frame with her approval.
It was about at this point in the conversation that the crawling sensation had
begun to escalate, and so Jack found himself bidding his hostess goodbye,
promising her like he did every visit that he’d someday settle down and
construct himself a home for her to be a guest in. A promise Jack had every
intention of keeping. Someday. Maybe.
Yeah, whatever. He was Jack Frost; he had his staff, the wind at his back, and
the world as his literal playground. He had believers and friends who were
steadily inching towards ‘family.’
He also had a man-sized, stubborn, overbearing control-freak of a Bunny to
babysit.
Oh well, no rest for the naughty, right? Besides, it kinda sounded like fun.
Chapter End Notes
     So it was pointed out to me by an observant reader that technically
     speaking this is not a sequel by definition, but more of a companion
     or sister-fic. Chronologically yes, this fic overlaps Heart(h),
     although it has never been my intention to merely rehash the same
     scenes from a different point of view. In my headcanon, Aster has
     removed himself from his friends, thus limiting his perspective on
     the situation only to his encounters with Jack and his thoughts and
     reactions to them. Jack on the other hand, has friends for the first
     time since he was human. Friends that he loves to visit and are able
     to provide outside input on the situation as it evolves, which is
     what this fic is attempting to capture. You'll all have to let me
     know how well I'm accomplishing that!
     As far as a legitimate sequel, well, the muses have something in the
     works for when this part wraps up. Stay tuned!
***** Wake Up This World, Wake Up Tonight *****
Chapter Summary
     Up in the midnight sky Jack soars, whooping and cheering, urging the
     wind to carry him higher, spin him faster, to take him in tighter and
     tighter circles.
Up in the midnight sky Jack soars, whooping and cheering, urging the wind to
carry him higher, spin him faster, to take him in tighter and tighter circles.
Jack’s joy is effervescent in the cool night air, his laughter filling the
night with sweet noise. Here in the deep of a crisp fall night, whirling in a
strange mad dance, Jack is King, and this is his playground. He banks suddenly,
arching his back and twisting himself into a steep climb, straight up into the
higher atmosphere. Jack climbs higher and higher, watching the pale sliver of
the moon grow closer, the clouds approach and then part for him to pass,
feeling the air thin around him. Eventually, the air is too thin, and Jack’s
lungs feel tight with it despite not being required to breathe. Up here even
Wind struggles to manifest enough to keep him elevated, but Jack doesn’t care,
going higher is no longer the point.
No, the point is the fall.
Jack dismisses the Wind, letting gravity take over. For a brief instant he is
suspended weightless before the Earth digs her sharp claws in and drags him
down, down to her unrelenting bosom. As he gathers speed, beside him the wind
shrieks in exaltation, screaming along beside him at terminal velocity, just
waiting for the command.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Jack plummets headfirst now, tipping his face back to watch the ground
approach. Beneath him the lights of Moscow glitter like tiny nightlights,
slowly growing brighter as he freefalls closer. Stars above him, stars below
him, and Jack swings like a pendulum forever between the two, always torn,
always being drawn back to the noise and the bustle of humanity and the voices
of the children, but the siren song of the sky forever sings in his veins like
burning.
100 feet now.
50 feet.
20 feet.
10.
At Jack’s command, Wind catches him mere inches from the concrete of the Plaza,
sending him in a wide arch around the fountain and coming back around like a
whip-crack, his passage leaving curling fernlike frost patterns in his wake,
before carrying him in a dizzying vault over the nearby rooftops back into the
wide expanse of velvet darkness. Jack lets out one more full-bellied howl to
the Moon, screaming his wild joy to his father, his creator. From the corner of
his eyes, Jack catches sight of the distant golden cloud, tiny streams of sand
snaking their way across the air; thousands of happy dreams making their way to
thousands of slumbering children. Jack re-routes himself, steering toward his
friend, and the reason he’d travelled out this way in the first place, at
least, before he’d gone and gotten himself distracted. His approach is noticed,
and a flock of golden birds the size of pigeons rushes to greet him, flapping
in circles around him as they escort him back.
“Didja see me, Sandy? Did you see that? Man, what a rush! Think I went higher
than I’ve ever been before, I swear I could’ve touched Moon!” Jack shoves his
hood off, baring his face to his shorter friend as he speaks. Sandy’s grin is
equally wide, far too used to Jack’s crazy stunts to have been too concerned
for him. North and Tooth had yet to learn that Jack lived to toe the line, to
push the envelope, to see just how far, how hard, how long he could go until
something went wrong. Probably not the safest way to live, but fun was Jack’s
centre and he was an extreme personality, nothing brought his higher than or
made the fall sweeter then the thought of maybe hitting the ground. Jack wasn’t
suicidal or anything and he didn’t enjoy pain, but a little bit of
breathlessness, well, Jack loves that. Jack was all about letting his heart
beat and his blood flow, letting the adrenaline tear through him like a forest
fire. Jack does not need his heart to beat, does not need the pounding of life
in his veins, but how else is he, corpse that he is, to feel truly alive?
Above Sandy’s head, a series of golden images form from sand, cycling one by
one, pretty much basic inquiries into Jack’s wellbeing. Essentially, it was
‘Hey Dawg, what’s up?’ in Sandman-speak. The first month or so Jack spent as a
Guardian he could admit that talking to Sandy left him impatient and mostly
stumped. He’d stuck with it though, noticing that his lack of voice usually
meant the Sandy was the first person to be left behind in a group conversation
if only because excited people tended not to pay attention to a voice that you
can’t actually hear. The Guardians in one room, you can imagine, were usually
very excitable and therefore Sandy was often unintentionally shunted to the
side. Knowing how it felt and sympathising, Jack had devoted a substantial
amount of time and energy to decoding the Sandman’s own personal form of
charades. Seeking Sandy out for weekly one-on-one conversations had really paid
off; Jack now considered himself fluent in dreamsand sign language.
It had also had the side effect of bringing Jack and Sandy closer together,
which Jack was infinitely grateful for. Most people wrote Sandy off because he
looked tame and was silent, but Sandy was definitely no pushover, as anyone who
knew him could attest to. They’d never said anything to his face, but it was
the unofficial consensus among the other Guardians that Sandy was the coolest
and most badass of them all. Jack was pretty sure that Sandy knew though,
anything less would have invalidated his title of most awesome. In fact if you
asked Jack, he was pretty sure that when Chuck Norris went to bed at night, he
checked his closet for the Sandman.
“I’m pretty good, and you Stardust?” Sandy rolled his eyes at the nickname, but
threw up a few affirmative symbols that in this context pretty much meant ‘A-
OK!’ Context turned out to be pretty important in understanding the smallest
Guardian, it had taken Jack a while for example to figure out a Moon could
stand for MiM, could stand for night time, or could even mean ‘My god North’s
lost his pants! Don’t look now cause it ain’t pretty, children!’ The last one
was accompanied but some rather incredible facial expressions that Jack would
never be able to forget, kinda like having to douse North’s flaming pants with
a hearty dose of frost only second after the man had yanked them off, bellowing
at the top of his lungs could never be forgotten.
North knows better than to let the elves near the firecrackers anymore, one
singed backside, ruined pants and traumatized roomful of Guardians was enough,
thanks. Also, Jack can’t help but wonder why none of them appear to wear
underwear. At least, of the Guardians who actually wear clothing on a regular
basis, sand and fur and feather’s not counting for obvious reason, and wow if
you thought about it over half of their little force went around pretty much
stark naked, for all intents and purposes...
Conversation with Sandy, right. Focus Jack, focus.
Sandy is pretty used to Jack’s occasional lapses and never seems to take it
personally, instead just waiting for Jack’s attentions to find their way back.
Jack figured it was his naturally patient nature at work or something.
“Hey! You’ll never guess what! Bunny made me a present!” Jack can’t stop the
extra-wide smile, all of his perfect teeth on display as he thinks about the
plain white cotton garment, carefully folded in Bunny’s linen closet, awaiting
Jack’s next visit. Sandy forms a question mark in inquiry, and Jack is happy to
explain. “It was an apron, y’know, to spare my hoodie the horrors of dishwater
when I’m over cleaning up the place. Man, did you know that Bunny lives like a
slob? I meant, the Warren is immaculate, but his Burrow? It’s like the dude’s
one of those stereotypical bachelors, only immortal, to give the mess whole
CENTURIES to build up!” Jack’s now punctuating his point with broad seeps of
his arms, the tail end of his staff leaving little trails of ice on the
dreamsand cloud, but Sandy didn’t seem to mind. No Sandy’s look of
consternation doesn’t appear to have anything to do with the ice and everything
to do with Bunny. “Did I say something wrong? Cause you know I’m still working
on the social cues thing, and any help would be appreciated.”
Jack watches as Sandy’s dreamsand forms a few hasty symbols, moving almost fast
enough to leave Jack behind, but he manages to figure it out without too much
difficulty.
“No, he didn’t ask, I just showed up, I mean, the guy needed help, we could all
see that he was overdoing it, damn stubborn bastard.” Jack huffs a bit at the
thought of his overgrown rodent, driving himself into near-collapse with his
workaholic tendencies. If ever there was a guy in need of some fun in his life,
it was Bunny. Lucky for him, Jack was all about the funtimes.
Sandy speaks again, still as quickly as before obviously anxious for the reply.
Jack is a little puzzled by the line of questioning, but Sandy rarely wastes
time on things unimportant so he answers best he can.
“No, no he hasn’t asked me to leave, or stop or whatever. I mean, he gave me a
freakin’ apron, I think he’s cool with coming home to a clean house and a
homemade meal. Also, occasionally classic rock air-guitar serenades, y’know,
when he arrives early and surprises me.” This seems to bring Sandy up short,
and the shorter man pauses, taking a moment to eye Jack up fully. Jack can’t
help but squirm a bit under the scrutiny. He doesn’t think he’s done anything
he can be in trouble for, and even if he had Jack knew that Sandy wasn’t the
type to judge him for it or hold it against him, but the intensity of the
consideration he was being given was making him super uncomfortable. Long,
silent minutes pass, Jack shrinking a little more into himself with every
second, drawing his hands closer to his chest, staff clenched so tight his
knuckles ached. Sandy suddenly seemed to notice his discomfort and shook his
head, smiling as widely as ever and holding up his hands in a placating
gesture, conveying to Jack that he was not in trouble, and could therefore
relax. Jack did, letting out the breath he’d been holding in a gusty sigh and
dredging up a smile in response. “So, you gonna tell me what that was all
about?”
Sandy’s smile is gentle as he speaks, forming the shapes at a more sedate pace
than previously, which only adds to Jack’s confusion as he translates.
“Does he make me happy? Sandy what kind of question is that? Of course he makes
me happy, he’s my friend!” Sandy blinks for a second, taking in Jack’s
befuddlement. Something about the look in Sandy’s eyes makes Jack run his last
sentence over in his mind. Something about it sounded strange to him, having
spoken it out loud, but he’s not sure what, or how, like maybe Jack had made a
mistake or lied and hadn’t meant to. “He’d my friend...” Jack drops his eyes
murmuring softly, more to himself then anything. Sandy seems to take pity on
him, because with the same fatherly smile he gestures Jack to sit, a common
habit they’ve developed so they can chat while Sandy works. Jack takes the
offered seat, accepting the pat on the head as the token of affection it is and
pushing aside the part of him that wants to feel patronized, because this is
Sandy and he doesn’t even know what the word patronizing means. Sandy does
however know the meaning of the phrase shit-eating grin, because there is no
other way to describe the look on his face when he asks the next question.
“Bunny’s housewife?” Jack chokes on his own tongue voice so high with shock it
nearly cracks as he replies. “Sweet Moon Sandy, do I look like a girl to you? I
mean just cause a guy helps a buddy out with his laundry and dishes and
cleaning and cooking, and wears an apron, and... Oh Hell, I’m talking myself
into a corner here aren’t I?” The Sandman laughs at the frost ‘blush’ staining
his friend’s cheeks. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up little man, see if I ever make YOU
any of my world-famous flaky dinner rolls.” Jack draws his knees tighter to his
chest; much to his chagrin, he can feel the frost creeping up his ears now, as
telling of his embarrassment as anything. Sandy appears to decide that he’s had
enough fun at Jack’s expense after that because he lets it go.
They chat off and on about a variety of topics after that, and Jack’s trips to
the Warren don’t even come up again. When dawn begins to creep into this part
of the world, Jack slips away, bidding his friend farewell as the takes to
skies flushing pink with first light.
His whole flight back to Burgess, Jack can’t shake the feeling that something
is off. If Jack knows one thing about the Sandman, he knows that Sandy’s
silences speak more than his words ever do, and there is something in those
telling silences, something to do with a certain Pooka that Jack has missed.
All this thinking in circles though is more than Jack can handle at the moment,
so he sets the thoughts aside for later. He has believers to visit today, and
then tomorrow he’ll be heading down to the Warren to really get some work done.
He has plans to get an early start and tackle the unused, empty rooms in the
basement. Jack can’t wait to see the look on Bunny’s face when his whole Burrow
practically sparkles.
***** I Can Feel the Storm Inside You *****
Chapter Summary
     If it’s a universally agreed upon fact among the big five that Sandy
     is the most awesome, then it is also as equally agreed upon the North
     was the one you went to when you needed advice.
If it’s a universally agreed upon fact among the big five that Sandy is the
most awesome, then it is also as equally agreed upon the North was the one you
went to when you needed advice. The man was always ready with a cup of tea,
plate of cookies and the perfect words for any situation.
Right now, Jack was not too proud to admit he desperately needed some wise
words.
North wasn’t in his office when Jack slipped in through the window. Latching it
behind him to keep out the chill, Jack settled himself on the window seat to
wait, back pressed to the frigid glass to help combat the discomfort of the
overly warm air. He didn’t have to wait long, North returned in a few moments,
muttering something about Yeti’s and elves and pink glitter, and it was a
telling sign as to his mood that even Jack’s innate trickster wasn’t interested
in getting the fully story. North spotted him immediately of course, smiling
widely at his guest. Jack attempted to return the smile, but it must have
looked as fragile as it felt because North was instantly all business. In mere
minutes he had tea steeped and a chair dragged over beside the window seat and
was leaning forward, ready to listen. Jack opened his mouth to begin, but all
that came out was a thin, reedy sound. Mortified Jack clapped a hand over his
mouth, ready to bolt but it was too late. Jack’s hand shook, his arm shook, in
fact everything shook. It took him a moment to realize that it was his
shoulders shaking, and while the hand over his mouth muffled the worst of the
sobs Jack could feel fold tears freezing to his cheekbones.
For a second North looked truly alarmed, eyebrow’s shooting up in what Jack
could only describe as a ‘Oh Holy Shit, what do I do NOW’ look, but that faded
quickly as the man stood abruptly, chair being shoved back so hard it clattered
to the floor. North’s larger body was instantly beside Jack o the window seat,
taking up more space then Jack had thought possible, crowding right up into
Jack’s air until it seemed perfectly natural for the frost child to peel his
hand off his mouth and fist North’s shirt, burying his face in the older
Guardian’s shoulder and giving himself over to his sobs. It had been a long,
long time since Jack had cried. As a newborn spirit, before he’d figured out
how to kick-start his heart into a simulacra of life, he’d been unable too. Oh
he’d wanted to, felt the feeling steal up on him like a thief in the night, but
no tears would actually come. After he’d discovered the trick to pseudo-life,
he’d spent so much time crying he’d honestly thought he’d gone long past
‘making up for lost time’ and straight into ‘Alice in Wonderland crying a
literal ocean.’ Eventually by the end of his first century he’d bucked up and
just... stopped. Just shut off, clamped down, buried the urge under as much
imagined dirt as he possibly could and moved forward instead, declaring any
more self-pity to be boring and a waste of time.
Right now though, Jack kind of wanted to heave up his soul via his tear ducts
into North’s red sweater, and since the other man seemed inclined to let him,
he guessed he could let the self-recriminations slide just long enough to take
him up on the offer. It had been a long, long time since Jack had just been
held, crying or otherwise. So long, in fact that Jack was reluctant to let go
even after the tears eventually slowed and stopped. North seemed content to let
him be, holding him just tight enough to be tangible but not so tight as to
smother, one large hand rubbing soothing circles onto Jack’s upper back.
Finally, and long, indeterminable moments, Jack found his voice again,
haltingly describing to North the reasons for his upset, as best he could. Jack
was cautious though, after his conversations with Sandy and Tooth, so he
limited his story to the barest of bones; Jack had been visiting the Warren
recently to keep an eye on an overworked Bunn, and help out where he could.
While attempting the latter, he’d been caught somewhere he hadn’t know he
shouldn’t be, and Bunny had been mad.
Mad, actually was probably far too polite a word to accurately describe the
Pooka’s reaction. Livid, perhaps, was better, wrathful even, practically
incandescent with rage also seemed to sum up the situation quite nicely. By
this point, not being able to see North’s face and gauge his reactions as Jack
spoke was beginning to wear on the teen, so he carefully extricated himself
from the solid embrace, offering North a weak but grateful smile as he sat
back, wiping the last stubborn bits of ice from his eyelashes as he described
hightailing it out of the Warren as fast as he could, quite literally running
away at top speed, hitting the tunnels and heading straight for the Pole as
quick as he could.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I set a land speed record there for fastest corpse on
two legs” Jack joked was a still-watery grin. “Don’t even want to think about
how hard I pushed wind to get here.” To his credit, North barely flinched at
the corpse comment, busying his hands with prepping fresh tea for himself,
giving jack the cold tea to sip, as was the spirit’s preference. The older man
was getting much better with Jack’s often self-deprecating humour, slowly
understanding what Sandy and Bunny seemed to understand innately, that this was
Jack’s way of coping, a habit he’d adopted partly from actually self-esteem
issues but mostly as a defence mechanism form a world that was all too
frequently cruel to him. After all, if you’re saying it first and loudest, it
obviously doesn’t hurt, so no one can use it against you. Jack didn’t like that
it seemed to upset both Tooth and North to a degree, but three hundred years of
adopted behaviours did not disappear over the course of a couple months, and
Jack had to respect his friends for making such wonderful efforts to accept and
support him, even when they didn’t always understand him. Like now, North
giving him time to collect himself before sharing whatever wise little nuggets
he had bouncing around in his brain.
Right, conversation with North. Focus Jack, focus.
North was regarding Jack with a level, even gaze, obviously gathering his
thoughts in order to provide the best possible council. Jack allowed him the
time, needed to hear the nest North had to offer, and also not to offend his
host with his impatience. Jack was many things, but inconsiderate in the homes
of other’s was generally not one of them, bless his mother s iron fist, and
lightning-fast delivery of the perfect slap upside the head. There were whole
months as a child that Jack swore he was developing a bald spot in the area she
most often targeted. Would’ve served him right too, maniacal little shit
disturber that he had been. Was still. Whatever.
And North was about to talk now, seriously brain, focus.
“How long you say you’ve been visiting Bunny in Warren now, Jack? “
“Uh, a couple of weeks? Just here and there. I didn’t want to leave him alone
to long, let him trip into bad habits, but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome
and get myself disinvited.” Jack couldn’t help the dark chuckle that escaped
him. “Figures, though. First time in a long time I go out of my way for
someone, to help them out, be a good friend and what does it get me? A damn
freak fest! I mean, what if he doesn’t let me come back? What if he hates me
and doesn’t want me to help anymore?” Jack felt his misery close over him; like
that water had once closed over him, the feeling of desperation and panic not
entirely unalike. “He made me and apron and everything, and I don’t even know
what I did wrong.”
North’s eyebrows went up at the last sentence, and Jack couldn’t help but
wonder what was so damn special about the apron. Of course Jack knew why it was
special to him, seeing as it was only the third gift he’d received since he’d
risen from the ice. The second being the matryoshka doll North had given him
the day he’d become a Guardian officially, and the first being Jamie’s solid
unwavering belief in him, from the moment he’d first seen Jack in his bedroom
all those months ago. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of thing anyone else would
consider a gift, but to Jack who’ gone without belief for so long that he’d
started to lose belief in himself, it had been the most precious, perfect thing
a living soul had ever gifted him.
“Then, you should ask him, da?” North’s look was knowing, and Jack narrowed his
eyes at his jolly friend.
“You know something you’re not telling me, don’t you?’ North nodded into his
teacup, taking a swig before replying.
“I do, but, it is not for me to tell, yes? You must ask Bunny. Remember though,
Jack, these things cut deep, and old wounds left untended fester. Bunny has
been hurting long time, but would must be purged, there will be more pain
before healing. Are you ready for that, Jack?
Jack stared a North, almost uncomprehending. He’d already guessed that there
was more to Bunny’s fit then what had met the eye, and while part of him had
wanted to stand there and scream back, to get up into the Pooka’s face and
shake him till he just shut up, Jack had been afraid of the answers he might
get, and so had run like a coward. Now though, now North was telling him to go
back, to fight for those answers, and to brace himself for the tide. Jack
stared at his tea a long moment, silently weighing the pros and cons of
returning to the Warren to confront Bunny head on.
“What if he doesn’t forgive me?” Jack wished his voice hadn’t sounded to
infernally young when he’d spoken, but honestly after the afternoon he’d had,
what dignity did he have left to worry about losing? North made a dismissive
gesture with his hand as he replied.
“Bah, Bunny will forgive; he burns hot like firework, fizzles out like ash.
Have patience Jack, and courage. Most importantly, have gentleness, compassion.
Remember, of all of us Guardians, it was you, and you alone, who he allowed to
help.” North punctuated the point by resting his heavy hand on Jack’s thin
shoulder. “You are strong boy, Jack. I know, rejection is scary thing, but you,
you have strength of heart, and Bunny needs you.”
Jack’s smile was thin, tight-lipped. He was still nervous, hell he was still
scared witless of returning, but never let it be said that Jack let his fear
rule him.
If Jamie’s gift to him was faith, and North’s gift was acceptance, Bunny’s gift
had felt like home, like the offer of a hearth and table, the kind of which
Jack hadn’t had since his death. The kind of feeling Jack would fight for,
would waltz right back into a metaphorical warzone for.
Like hell Jack would let a moody Lagomorph from outer space drive him away with
his metric fuckton of issues. If it came down to it, Jack’s would just start
throwing his own issues back, a veritable magazine fight’s worth of a
psychologist’s wet dreams if that’s what it took to get through the dumb, furry
head. Clenching his fists with determination, Jack thanked his host and
departed for his lake, hoping a night under the waxing moon would help clear
his head and give him a plan of action. Jack grinned into the empty night; he
had an apology to plan and a Rabbity ass to kick back into line.
If only his hands would stop their damned trembling.
***** Take What You Need From Me *****
Chapter Summary
     A large, fat bullfrog lets out an indignant croak as he’s startled
     out of his snoozing spot by the small pebble splashing into the
     nearby water, hurriedly hopping lopsidedly away. Jack huffs a small
     laugh, but it’s a hollow sound, more reactive then from any actual
     humour.
A large, fat bullfrog lets out an indignant croak as he’s startled out of his
snoozing spot by the small pebble splashing into the nearby water, hurriedly
hopping lopsidedly away. Jack huffs a small laugh, but it’s a hollow sound,
more reactive then from any actual humour. In the long years of Jack’s forced
solitude, he’d taken delight several times at this game; throwing small pebbles
to startle the local wildlife. The aim was never, ever to hurt the animals,
Jack liked them too well for that, the goal was just to get the poor things
moving. Survival of the fittest and all, really Jack was doing them a favour by
testing out their flight instincts. Today though, nothing amused. Even his
visit with Jamie, while always pleasant, had failed to lift Jack’s spirits the
way it usually did. Worse, people were starting to notice. Jack knew that his
friends concerns had shifted from Bunny’s wellbeing to both Jack AND Bunny’s
wellbeing; and Jack had no one to blame for that but himself. Him and his damn
nosy tendencies, seriously, if Jack had never had his brilliant idea to
gatecrash the Warren and make himself useful, of all things, he wouldn’t be
sitting here by himself antagonizing frogs and being a general killjoy.
He hadn’t mean to let it get like this after his last visit the too Warren. To
be honest, Jack had been terrified walking back into the Burrow the morning
after his and Bunny’s... no, Aster’s fight. He’d taken his time crossing the
field on his way to the small dwelling, allowing the Pooka plenty of time to
intervene and send him packing. When he’d made it into the kitchen, he noted
that nothing appeared touched since the previous day. He’ called out for Aster
a few times, before carefully making his way down the ladder to the lower
floor, hands shaking on the rungs with nerves the whole way. Jack’s stomach was
in knots as he walked, lantern before him, carefully avoiding so much as
looking at the other rooms until he reached the end of the hall where Aster’s
room was. Jack had rapped a knuckle on the earthen wall, hoping to catch the
Pooka’s attention if he was inside, but no response had come. Jack remembered
sighing a bit in relief then stepping through the opening, only to halt inches
past the doorway.
Aster had been in bed fast asleep. Jack had felt his heart seize with panic,
scrambling backwards to beat a hasty retreat when he noticed the telltale wet
splotches on Aster’s furry cheeks. Had the Pooka been... crying? Carefully,
Jack had stepped forward, lifting the lantern to bathe his friends face in
cheery yellow light. Sure enough, it looked like Aster had been crying, his
whole face was soaked, eyes red-rimmed even while closed, and the Pooka’s body
was tense, un-relaxed despite his slumbering state. Jack would have suspected a
Nightmare but there had been no evidence of black sand, so he was forced to
conclude that it was stress.
Stress. Because of Jack.
Jack recalled how his heart had plummeted; the only thing keeping him from
fleeing at once in shame was the burning desire to somehow make this right.
Returning to the kitchen and getting to work had been one of the hardest things
Jack had ever done. Truth be told, by that point Jack had felt worse than he
had during both of the Easter’s that he’d ruined. To Jack’s knowledge, neither
even had managed to make Aster cry, and yet somehow, Jack had managed it
without even knowing why or how. Trust the winter spirit to make such a mess of
things while trying to do a favour! If there were Olympic for guilt trips Jack
would have won gold, hands down that day as he’d tidied, cooked and puttered.
The glass of water was the first thing he’d attended too, knowing too well that
a good cry always resulted in a headache from lost fluids, and Jack had made
sure to carefully frost the glass just the right amount to keep the beverage
cool, but not cold enough to add to a headache, if the Pooka woke up with one.
About halfway into his meal prep, Jack had wandered back down, making just
enough noise to alert someone awake but not enough to disturb a sleeper. Aster
was still passed out, but he’d definitely been moving about, and the water was
empty. Jack had refilled it just as before, and returned to the kitchen to
continue his work.
If Aster’s entrance and subsequent hug /apology combo had been surprising, the
conversation that followed had surprised Jack more. Despite having come to the
Warren for answers as per North’s advice, Jack had found a sense of foreboding
filling his chest as he’d worked, ratcheting his anxiety higher and higher
until, by the time the meal was served Jack had been debating flinging himself
out the window to escape the pressure. Then Aster had started to talk, and
Jack’s fears were realized, it’d been his entire fault for sticking his nose
in, trampling over sacred things in a naive misguided effort to be helpful.
Jack should’ve known by now that his name and helpful didn’t belong in the same
sentence. Hell, they didn’t belong in the same hemisphere, for certain, and
really, what kind of a friend was he, that he didn’t even have an inkling until
now of the grief his friend was obviously still carrying? Way to score and F
for failure on that test!
But the conversation hadn’t ended there, and instead of being angry, Aster had
thanked Jack, and rewarded his with the gift of his true name; a precious gift
indeed, as names held power over the bearer, which in the wrong hands could be
catastrophic. Aster apparently trusted Jack though, more than Jack trusted
himself.
Which apparently, was because Aster had feelings for him.
Feeling he had because Jack had been coming on to him, in fine Alien-Rabbit
format, without having a clue what he was doing. Also, maybe because Jack was
special or something, Jack wasn’t sure because at that point he’d been having a
damn heart attack. Wasn’t three hundred a little young for an immortal to have
a heart attack? Jack didn’t know, but he’d felt the traitorous organ freeze up,
before pounding double-time at his friend swords and the light touch at his
wrist. It was all jack had been able to do to sit through the rest of the meal,
trying to sort through his jumbled, panicky feelings. Jack had escaped as soon
as it had been polite too, torn between putting as much distance between
himself and the source of confusion as he could, but also by the bereft feeling
that had struck him the moment he’d removed the apron and realized that this
would be the final time he did so, because he wasn’t allowed to play housewife
anymore. Unless of course he actually was Asters housewife, and wow, talk about
an epiphany. Every conversation Jack had been having the last couple weeks up
until that point were sudden taken into a different context and boy, was he the
world’s largest dumbass. Sandy had practically spelled it out for him, and he
still hadn’t gotten the hint until the Pooka had applied it with the
metaphorical sledgehammer.
The couple of times they’d met since then had been awkward at best, both
uncomfortable with each other, Aster because he’d revealed his one-sided
affections, and Jack because he desperately didn’t want to lose his friendship
and was probably trying far too hard to be causal about the whole thing.
Despite that they’d still managed to fall back into the easy rhythm of give-
and-take they’d been perfecting with each other since Jack had taken his oath.
It was so natural, so simple that it had only tossed more confusion onto the
befuddlement bonfire Jack’s thoughts had become over the past month. His
frustration had finally driven him back here, to his lake, in an effort to sort
things out in his head once and for all.
With a sigh, Jack hopped off the tall branch he’d been crouched on, landing
lightly on the muddy ground below. Fall had set in with a vengeance in Burgess,
and Jack could feel the bite in the air that told him his time was coming back
to this part of the world. Usually Jack was overjoyed, but he was finding it
very difficult when his thoughts kept coming back in circles to the earnest
look on Aster’s face when he’d confessed. Honestly, it was getting a bit
ridiculous. Suddenly fed up with himself; Jack strode purposefully onto the
lake, feeling a thin layer of ice form beneath his feet with each step. It was
still too warm yet to achieve a lasting freeze of the water, but with Jack
there to help it would be more than thick enough for his purposes. Once in the
centre, Jack used the end of his staff to scratch a cross shape onto the ice,
labelling one side pros and the other cons. It seemed like an odd habit but
Jack had once seen a college student agonizing over whether to switch her major
do the same thing, and it appeared to help her organize her thoughts so he’d
given it a try and it hadn’t failed him yet. Well, the organizing his thoughts
bit, it didn’t always mean he was making the right choice, considering the
Blizzard of ’68 had been a chart-worthy decision and that had gone over like a
rare steak at a Vegan convention.
You have a decision to make, Jack Frost. Focus.
Pro: Aster was handsome. Handsome enough to make Jack blush at the very
thought, imagining the deep husk of the other’s voice in the dark, miles of
silk-soft fur sliding against his skin...
Breathe, think about dead puppies to kill the erection, focus.
Con: Aster was a Pooka, Jack was a human, or had been. Was still human-shaped
at least, that was sure to cause at least a little bit of friction later.
Pro: Aster was a good man. Fellow Guardian, Herald of Spring, Bringer of Hope,
Aster was also fantastic with children, once he actually deigned to get off his
tail and spend time with them. He was hard working, devoted, and willing to
fight to the death for the children in his care or his principles.
Con: Aster was a workaholic in fact, devoted above all things to his holiday,
was used to his solitude, was far too serious for his own good, and had a nasty
temper even if it blew over quickly. Jack could easily see them clashing on a
myriad of little things every day.
Pro: Aster had a quaint little house he was more than willing to share with
Jack.
Con: Jack was far too used to a nomadic lifestyle, and while the thought of
having a home and a husband to look after was not unappealing, he worried that
the settled life might chafe.
Pro: Aster was wonderful; he made Jack happier than anyone ever had. He
understood Jack, sometimes even finished his sentences. He had made a priceless
gift for Jack, but more importantly he’d made room for Jack, offering him the
shelter of his hearth and his heart without asking for anything back.
Con: Jack didn’t know what he’d managed to do to deserve this, and was
terrified of fucking it up.
Taking a step back, Jack surveyed his chart, dismayed to realized that, even
laid out like this, he still didn’t know what he wanted to do. He wasn’t sure
how long he’d stood there, staring at the ice like it held the mysteries of the
universe, until he became aware of the shadow lurking in his periphery. Moving
like striking Cobra Jack spun, swinging his staff around to stop against Pitch
Black’s throat, the cure tipping the Nightmare Kings head back just the
slightest bit. For his part Pitch didn’t appear overly surprised, or even all
that threatened, instead he looked... distinctly amused.
“Well well, what do we have here? A frosty little spirit, far from his friends
and believers? Pray tell, what is putting such a lovely frown on your pretty
face?” Pitch’s tone is pure mocking, golden eyes rolling until their staring
directly into icy blue. As they make eye contact Jack is momentarily surprised
by how tired Pitch looks, how ragged around the edges. It’s fairly obvious to
the winter child that most of Pitch’s current attitude is likely bravado;
perhaps a chance to get a few digs into an enemy he was probably betting was to
kind to kick him while he was down. Jack feels little sympathy, but a little is
still some, so he finds himself hesitating in driving the other immortal away
just long enough for Pitch’s gaze to slide to Jack’s feet where his lists are
still in full view. Realizing his error, Jack tries to prevent this by raises
his staff, the curve forcing Pitch’s face higher but it’s all for naught, Pitch
must have been observing him long enough to know what the list is about because
even the split second glace has the cruel smile spreading wider.
“My my Jack, the Pooka? Really? He could do so much better than you. But you
know that, don’t you, dearheart?”
“Sh-shut up, bastard.” Jack tried to sound confident, but the stutter in his
voice betrayed him, Pitch leaping onto the weakness like a wolf on his prey.
The cultured voice was speaking the soundtrack of Jack’s deepest fears, and
while Jack was wise to the trick, it was so hard not to believe it when he kind
of already did, maybe. He realized then that he had been retreating slowly,
step by step, Pitch advancing on him, pressing his verbal attack with his body
language as well as words.
“Oh Jack, little frostling, did you think you had a chance? That you could make
it work? That love would light the way?”
“Love?” Jack stopped suddenly, forcing Pitch to stop too. Love? Jack hadn’t
thought that, had he? I mean he didn’t love Aster, did he? He’d have known by
now, right? Pitch twigged on to Jack’s confusion, seeming to figure out that
he’d miscalculated and quickly readjusting his strategy, going back on the
offensive.
“To think, I never would have expected that a person’s greatest fear could
change so dramatically in such a short amount of time...” Pitch paused
expectantly, waiting for Jack’s full attention before continuing. “Of all the
things you could fear most of all, sweet Jack, you fear losing your place in
that furry abominations life? You fear only the inevitable! No other in their
right mind...”
“Wait!’ Jack’s sudden outcry seemed to startle the black clad man into silence.
“Wait, Pitch, say that last bit again.” The Nightmare King blinked once at Jack
in shock, and Jack could practically see the other man wondering if Jack had
lost his mind. He must’ve decided Jack had, and that is was necessary to humour
the crazy person, because he complied.
“You only fear the inevitable...”
“No, not that!” Jack cut him off with an impatient wave of his hand, having
lowered his staff while the other had spoken. “The bit before that, please.”
The addition of good manners really appeared to throw the darker man for a loop
because he was looking more and more deer-in-the-headlights by the second, his
composure rapidly coming undone as Jack’s fear faded; the spirit taking back
control of the conversation.
“I said, of all the things you could fear the most, losing the Rabbit and our
place in his life is it, with the implication that it is a stupid, ridiculous
fear to have, because you and the Rabbit? Seriously, I can’t imagine a more
ill-advised romance in the history of...”
“Yes, yes that! That’s what I’m most afraid of now? Not losing believers, or
being rejected by the other Guardians, or being stuck in the middle of a large
crowd stark naked, but losing Bunny?” Pitch’s scowl was as vicious as Jack’s
smile was brilliant.
“Yes, that, you puerile little OOMPH!” Pitch grunted as all the air was
unexpectedly forced form his lungs, a strange coldness pressing itself to his
front. It took several long seconds before it occurred to him that he was being
hugged by a very enthusiastic winter elemental. He flailed a little at the
thought, boots slipping on the slick surface. It took a couple hearty shoves
before the brat finally relented, releasing his grip long enough to be shoved
off. “You little cur! What was that for? Oh, these were my good robes too, now
they’ll have to be burnt...”
“That,” Jack began, cutting the other male off once again, “was for helping me
make a decision! I’d have been out here all decade without you! Just, don’t
tell anyone about the hug, I have a reputation to keep.” Pitch spluttered a
little at that, which only made Jack grin wider. “Actually, I take it back tell
anyone you want, no one’s gonna believe it anyways.” This seemed to spur Pitch
in action, the man lunging towards jack with murder in his eyes, snarling at
the chipper boy in rage.
“You miserable little sewer rat! I’ll...” But Pitch didn’t get to finish his
sentence, because as soon as Jack took to the air, pale feet leaving the ice,
the surface weakened without the stability provided by the frost child and with
a mighty crack, Pitch fell through. Jack hovered overhead, laughing gaily at
the shadow spirit’s struggle to pull himself from the tepid water. This
couldn’t kill Pitch, not in the slightest, even weak as he was, and knowing
that Jack felt no guilt at having a good laugh over his enemy’s predicament.
“You swim like a rock, Black! You should really work on that, bet the ladies
would love to see those legs in a swimsuit!” Pitch cursed so foully Jack was
grudgingly impressed, and finally taking pity on the half-drowned spirit he
froze just enough of the lake’s surface to allow Pitch to drag himself out and
to shore. Not sticking around to watch the other man flail about any longer,
Jack took off like a shot, whooping and hollering his happiness to the nearly
full moon above.
Jack has focus, he has direction. Jack has purpose, a reason for existing.
If Jack is lucky, by this time tomorrow he’ll be a married man with a home and
a husband to come back to at the end of every day.
And none of it will be perfect; and likely not easy, Jack will have to get used
to trusting someone with his weaknesses and his fragility. And there will be
fights, and disagreements, but there will also be laughter and joy if Jack has
anything to say about it. There will be talking and cuddling and, if Jack is
brave enough, furry hands there to cradle his heart. And he might be scared of
ruining things and losing what he loves most, but more than that Jack thinks he
is scared of never having tried in the first place.
Jack grins, and if he feels wetness in the corners of his eyes, well, he’s
flying pretty fast at this point and watery eyes are to be expected. It
naturally, has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that, for the first time
in three long, lonely centuries, Jack is flying home.
***** I'll Stay With You *****
Chapter Summary
     Even as a mortal, Jack was never one to waste any time on the edge of
     asleep and awake.
Chapter Notes
     This is it guys, final chapter. Thanks so much to all of you who
     bookmarked this, left me Kudos or comments, or who even just read
     silently, it's all very appreciated. I have a third part currently in
     the planning process, which will likely be the end of this series. I
     also plan a doing a full revision of both Heart(h) and LAY for all
     typos, grammatical issues and what have you, so thank you for your
     continued patience on that front.
     That being said, I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Even as a mortal, Jack was never one to waste any time on the edge of asleep
and awake. He was usually dead to the world the moment he hit the mattress, and
wide awake the moment his eyes opened. Even though sleep was now a luxury for
him as opposed to a necessity, Jack had not lost the ability to go from
practically comatose to ready to go in about three seconds flat. It had been
handy in his old life, allowing him a few precious extra minutes every day,
minutes not spent waking up or winding down, even if his sister had always
complained bitterly about the unfairness of it.
Now however, for the first time Jack was finding it in himself to hate this
particular ability. Jack had awoken about half an hour ago, and try as he
might, he could not slip back into slumber. Jack sighed, his little huff of
breath ruffling the fur on one of Aster’s long ears, the limb giving a small
twitch at the stimulus. Sprawled ungainly atop of Jack where the winter spirit
had pulled him down the night previous, Aster continued to sleep the sleep of
the thoroughly overworked and exhausted, pinning Jack to the soft mossy bottom
of the nest with over six feet of fur and muscle. To most, the weight would
have been suffocating, but Jack didn’t need to breath and therefore the soft,
heavy burden was grounding, tethering him to reality, the wisp of fur against
his bare skin so incredibly decadent. Unfortunately it also meant that Jack
couldn’t escape until Aster woke up.
“Not the most thought out plan now, was it, self?” Jack grumbled quietly, Aster
giving no response except to let out another loud snore, one hind leg jerking a
couple times in his sleep. Jack sighed again, tipping his head back and closing
his eyes in one more attempt to go back to sleep, running his hands down
Aster’s back and ribs in an affectionate gesture.
At least, it was meant to be affectionate, but must have tickled instead
because the deadweight on top of Jack twitched once, twice, squirming slightly
away from the sensation. Jack’s eyes flew open, blinking once, twice, before
repeating the motion. Aster shifted again, still fast asleep. With an only very
slightly evil grin, Jack did it again, and again, until he’d painstakingly
coaxed the slumbering Pooka far enough over that Jack could wriggle out from
beneath him. Jack fumbled about in the total dark, stumbling out of the nest
and nearly tripping over his hoodie and apron. Jack groped blindly for the
fabric items, gathering the up in his arms as he navigated his way out of the
room by feel. He progressed down the hall the same way, aided in small part by
the light at the end shining down from the main floor. Ascending the ladder
with one hand was difficult, but still much easier than it had been the first
time he’d come down to the basement carrying cleaning supplies, owing to the
practise he’d logged since.
Jack saunters into Aster’s... no, their kitchen stark naked, soiled garments in
hand. Blue eyes quickly survey the damage from the night before writing the
table off as completely toast, before spotting his pants beside the wreckage.
Stepping carefully over the larger splinters, Jack moves to gather the last of
his clothing, planning to chuck the whole mess into the laundry tub for a good
scrubbing. He’s only just scooped the brown trousers up when he’s startled into
dropping the whole armload by strong, furred arms snaking around his narrow
waist. Jack gasps, leaning his head back into his husband fluffy chest, unable
to stop the smile that spread when Aster curves over him to press a wet-nosed
kiss to Jack’s forehead.
“Forget the clothes mate, I like you better like this, yeah?” Aster’s voice is
roughened with sleep, rich and warm where he speaks into Jack’s ear. The
sensation causes the winter child to shudder, Aster chuckling with pleasure at
the response and tightening his grip on the boy.
“Can’t , we have rule’s after the fire incident, remember? No Guardians are
allowed to be pantless in public unless they don’t usually wear them,
remember?” Aster’s chest rumbles against Jack with another laugh, and he finds
his head tipped farther back by gentle fingers beneath his chin so Aster can
reach to lay a sweet kiss on his lips.
“I can be convincing, I tell yah. You’ll change your mind right quick.” Aster
murmurs his words directly onto Jack’s smiling mouth.
“It’s tempting Cottontail, but I think you’ll just have to settle for watching
me do laundry in the nude for now. Besides, don’t you have a table to fix?”
Jack’s tone is pure mischief as he gently extricates himself from the Pooka’s
grasp, bending very deliberately to collect to forgotten clothing and wandering
out the door to the yard, pausing only to send a sultry look over his shoulder
as he strolls out into the sunlight. Aster hesitates only long enough to check
his mouth for drool before following his mate out into the bright morning
sunshine. Sure enough, Jack has tossed his clothes into the large laundry tub
and is turning to come back inside, presumably to set the water to boil. Aster
intercepts him three steps in, pulling the smaller body flush to him by the
hips and kissing Jack breathless. Jack’s arms immediately wind about Aster’s
neck, pulling the Pooka deeper into the kiss. Jack lets Aster lick into his
mouth, chasing the taste of the crisp sweetness of mountain snow found in all
the little corners. Jack moans despite himself, low and needy, feeling more
than hearing Aster’s happy laugh as the kiss ends.
“Right now Jack, I think I want to see you spread out here, naked and begging.”
Jack can’t stop the frosty ‘blush’ from rising on his cheeks and shoulders at
the thought of it, which only seemed to encourage the Pooka more. “You’re not
expecting any guests, right? Not sure I want this to be a spectator sport.”
Jack can’t help the shy tone that creeps in, the thought of North or Sandy or
Tooth catching them aroused and intertwined a horrifying prospect.
“Naw Jackie, only you drop by unannounced.” Aster kisses Jack again, further
exploring the teen’s lush mouth. Jack can’t stop his hands from bunching in the
velvety fur of Aster’s shoulders, the slight pain seemingly driving the Pooka
wild if the sudden sharp edge to the kiss was any indication. Ending the kiss
and pulling back just enough to speak, Jack decided to toss his reservations to
the wind.
“Fine, just... be careful, if I show up with grass stains on my pearly whites
from biting the lawn, Tooth will never forgive you.” The sharp bark of laughter
that resounds from the Rabbit chases away Jack’s last lingering hesitations and
he steps forward back into the kiss. Closing his eyes and allowing himself to
be swept away on the rising tide of lust, Jack lets his husband bear him down
to cushiony grass. Jack pulls Aster closer, loving the hedonistic feel of that
magnificent pelt rubbing against him from head to toe. He is therefore
completely unprepared to be rolled until its Aster’s back on the green and Jack
hovering above him, straddling his hips, hard cocks rubbing delightfully
together. Jack can’t stop his tremble or his moan at the sensation, every
accidental shift sending sparks off behind his eyes. Bracing him hands on
Aster’s strong chest, Jack leans forward, awkwardly attempting to set his hips
thrusting into rhythm.
Jack’s virginal inexperience must’ve been shining through, or perhaps it’s
merely the other Guardian’s own impatience that had powerful paws gripping
Jack’s hips to guide him, setting up a nearly punishing pace. Jack sobs,
babbling incoherently was must a combination of Aster’s name and a few choice
curses as he curves his body over his lover’s, fitted together from hips to
shoulders with Jack’s face buried in Aster’s neck. The pace continues,
relentless, Jack barely able to keep up, one hand now clenched in the lawn
beside Aster’s ribs to brace himself, the other frantically touching every part
of his husband’s chest and neck he can reach. It’s only seconds later that the
world goes white behind his clenched eyelids as Jack, completely unprepared for
it, howls his climax into Aster’s jaw line. Spent, he slumps boneless into
Aster, the Pooka shuddering and tumbling over the edge right on his heels.
Lying there, sticky with sweat and cum, Jack dozes gently against his husband.
They should probably get up and bathe, if only to avoid being stuck together
later, but Jack’s having a hard time finding the motivation to move, not when
his pillow is warm and breathing and so incredibly soft to the touch. One of
Aster’s large paws slides down his back from shoulder blade to the nearly
nonexistent swell of his ass, just resting there in the promise of things to
come and Jack can’t wait. Well, he can, cause honestly, give him a few after
all that to recover for the next round, yeah?
“Should add ‘bath’ to the to-do list after the laundry and tale, I reckon.” The
Australian drawls, Jack giggling tiredly into his throat.
“Also, add ‘tell everyone else so they can cash in the betting pool,’ I figure
we can make a case to get at least half the winnings.” Even though he can’t see
his face, Jack can almost feel Aster’s confused frown at the comment,
“Wait, those Drongo’s had a pool going?” Jack shrugs, readjusting himself for
better comfort in Aster’s hold.
“Wouldn’t put it past them, Sandy and North had it figured out best as I can
tell, can’t imagine Tooth being far behind.”
“Yeah well Sandy’s a given.” Aster states, Jack humming in agreement. “You do
realize that as soon as we open our gobs North’s gonna want to throw some kind
of shindig together for us, right?” Jack smiles a bit at the thought, unable to
help himself.
“Hey, I’m down, free food, free booze, not that either of us are drinkers, but
whatever. On one condition though.” Here Jack lifts his head, shuffling up a
bit to make eye contact with his husband. “Housewife or not, there is no force
on Earth that will get me into some kind of frou-frou white dress, savvy?”
Jack’s tone is so deadly serious Aster can’t resist the dig.
“But Snowflake, not everyone has the collarbones to pull off a sweetheart
neckline.” Aster quips, tracing one aforementioned collarbone with a finger to
drive the point home, thoroughly enjoying Jack’s confused expression as he does
so.
“Sweetheart what now? Babe, is there something about you and women’s clothing
you need to tell me?” Aster tips his head back and laughs, a full, belly laugh,
hugging Jack tighter in merriment. The boy gives in, laughing along until
they’re both giddy and drunk on each other, exchanging light kisses and
caresses under the warm spring sun.
“You damn pervert!” Jack accuses laughingly as Aster’s paws gropes lazily at
one taught butt cheek.
“Your pervert.” Aster acknowledges, his voice deepening with desire and the
groping turning more serious until Jack moans, eyes sliding shut. “Always be
yours, Jackie, ‘til the universe collapses back into atoms.”
Jack’s smile against Aster’s lips is perfect, brilliant, glorious.
“Sounds like fun.” The frost child murmurs, and seals it with a kiss.
Chapter End Notes
     PS: For anyone interested, the song that inspired this fic was "Stay
     With You" by the Goo Goo Dolls, and is also where all the chapter
     titles were drawn from.
End Notes
     Crossposted to Fanfiction.net and my Dreamwidth.
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