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Hiccup didn't sleep that night.
The bed was too warm. Which was an ironic statement since Hiccup had dealt with the sweltering heat of his workshop on the hottest days of summer plenty of times without complaint. But it was the truth.
Of course, it probably had less to do with whatever temperature the room was set to, and more the fact that Jack wasn't in the bed beside him. Jack had always run cooler than Hiccup, but it was usually a relief after a seemingly endless day of fighting the government, dealing with their allies, and working overtime in his workshop.
But not tonight.
No, tonight Hiccup was alone. But that was to be expected when you snap at your boyfriend. When you get upset about him caring about your health and not wanting you to collapse.
(Which, for the record, wasn't uncommon in Hiccup's life, so Jack had a right to be worried.)
It's not like sitting at Toothless' repair station had been doing Hiccup any good. It wasn't the first time the Night Fury's AI had needed to go offline for a few hours to work out a few glitches picked up in the fight, and it wouldn't be the last.
Hiccup knew this. He'd also known that he'd already been going on an unhealthy amount of sleep with all the tech commissions he'd had for both the rebellion and his everyday work. History had proven that, even if he'd tried to do something productive in such a state, he wouldn't be able to properly concentrate. That he'd make stupid mistakes.
And yet, Hiccup had still pushed it. Had ignored the fact that he needed to rest even when he'd broken no less than three wrenches in a row.
At the very least, he should've sent Jack away.
Hiccup knew that when he got like... this, it was best to just be alone until he randomly passed out and 'reset' the next day. It was better than making someone put up with his bad attitude. His father and the other Riders were smart enough to avoid him when he was being this difficult, but Hiccup wasn't at all surprised that his eternally stubborn boyfriend had insisted on staying.
More than that, Jack had told – not asked – Hiccup that he would stay the night.
Jack now had his own room at the compound, as did his little sister, Emma, but he'd been invading Hiccup's space even before they'd gotten together, so it honestly more uncommon to see Jack not asleep in his bedroom than not.
Especially since Hiccup, a fool who greedily wanted to spend as much time as possible with Jack, had always found it hard to actually say no to the graffiti artist.
The night had gone great for a while. Hiccup uselessly fiddling with some of the drones that the twins had wrecked as he listened to Jack talk about the kids at the center, the new paints he'd nicked from Bunny's special supply, and any random topic that crossed the mind of the artist.
Some of the leftover adrenaline from the fight had started to leave Hiccup. He'd even stopped bringing up Toothless' diagnostic screen every other minute, content to trust in his work and the predictability of the long-established code procedures.
Stopped worrying if anything incriminating had been left behind during the fight – things that would so easily destroy his life and the life of everyone he loved it if the government ever truly found out the identity of the rebels defying their system.
Stopped thinking about how he could just do so much more if he only had the time and proper concentration...
But then, Jack had started to push for Hiccup to eat something as he worked.
Hiccup had refused.
Jack had brought an apple over.
Hiccup had refused again.
Jack had stubbornly insisted...
And so it went until teasing turned into bickering and bickering turned into Hiccup losing his temper and yelling at Jack that he didn't need him bothering him.
Hiccup had regretted the words the instant they'd left his mouth – and even more when he'd seen the stricken expression on Jack's face.
But, as always, the right thing to say – a simple apology – had gotten twisted up in Hiccup's head. Failed to properly form in his mouth no matter how much his head screamed for it to.
He ended up just returning to his work, doing his best to not see Jack in the corner of his eye as guilt gnawed at him like a hungry dog with a bone.
Later, Hiccup would realize that was probably the worst thing he could've done.
Because that, combined with his words, had been treating Jack like he was invisible – like he was insignificant to Hiccup when nothing could be further from the truth.
However, by the time that Hiccup had gotten himself under control and mentally composed a few words he found almost satisfactory enough to show his remorse, he'd turned around and saw that Jack was gone.
When searching the workshop didn't lead to the graffiti artist suddenly popping out of nowhere (which had happened more often than you'd think), Hiccup had given up and gone to bed. Even if Toothless were to reboot ahead of schedule, he'd just give his creator a look of disappointment after inevitably finding out how Hiccup messed up again.
Which led to the present situation of Hiccup staring up at the ceiling. It was the only safe place to look since the walls were covered with Jack's work. When Hiccup had (eagerly) agreed to have Jack paint his walls however he liked, it'd been the most excited that Hiccup had ever seen the graffiti artist.
And rightfully so since Hiccup's walls were now covered in some of the most incredible artwork he'd ever seen. It wasn't just one big mural, but rather a collage of different ideas and images – a series of things that maybe didn't make cohesive sense, but made sense to Hiccup.
Almost every time Hiccup came back to his room, there was something new to look at – something to further remind him of everything that Jack and he had gone through since officially meeting.
But Hiccup couldn't look at the walls now. Couldn't bear to see if there was something new that Jack had left solely for him.
Every drop of paint... every small detail and sketch... all of it reminded him of Jack.
Of his vibrancy.
Of his spirit.
Of how much he cared about Hiccup.
Care that was proven by how much effort he'd put into decorating Hiccup's room, and then to keep decorating it months after he'd first started.
Sure, Jack had murals all over the city – they were how Hiccup had first become a fan of Frost and the reason they'd actually gotten to meet – but those were different.
The art in the city, the paintings that surrounded all the orphanages and homeless shelters and random spots, those were for whoever walked by and saw them. Whether it was to brighten people's days, bring attention to places in need, or spread codes the government didn't want the public to have access to, it wasn't the same as the art here in Hiccup's room.
No, the ones in here were personal.
Made just for Hiccup and Jack.
A new wave of self-loathing and bitterness filled Hiccup. And you just had to make him think he doesn't matter.
So, yeah, it was no surprise that Hiccup couldn't sleep. The adrenaline had long since left him, leaving him feeling exhausted and emotionally raw like someone had scooped his heart out with a spoon, but the thoughts plaguing his head were louder than ever – if from a different source than before.
When sunlight started to peek out from behind the curtains, Hiccup decided he might as well get up and to a check-up on Toothless who'd finished his reboot a little while ago. Maybe that'd help him sleep because he definitely hadn't been getting any closer to that goal since first laying down hours ago.
As Hiccup walked into the workshop, he immediately knew Jack had been there.
The first sign was the heavy smell of paint filling the air.
It was a smell that Hiccup had become very used to, whether it be from the murals or Jack himself since the graffiti artist rarely used the proper measures to avoid getting a mess of colors all over him (especially his fingers). Thus, Hiccup could tell that a lot of paint had recently been used.
Second, there was a painting of Hiccup's father on the pillar across from the doorway of the workshop.
The sight definitely made Hiccup stop in his tracks, bewildered as he examined the portrait of Stoick the Vast, from the chest up, that had been newly painted onto the pillar. It wasn't the strangest thing that Hiccup had seen Jack draw, not by far, but he was admittedly a bit perplexed to see it here.
But looking around proved that it wasn't the only portrait that had been painted on the walls of Hiccup's workshop.
Over there, by the monitor set-up was Fishlegs.
By the welding area, Snotlout.
The weapons cabinet, Astrid.
The backup generators, Tuffnut and Ruffnut.
And so on.
Everywhere Hiccup looked, he could see a picture of one of his friends, family, or someone important in his life painted onto the walls.
And they weren't just normal, expressionless portraits. No, each face was crafted to be truly unique to the individual in question – as if showing the true essence of who they were.
What are you doing now, Jack?
Finally, Hiccup made himself look over to where Toothless' repair station was. It'd been purposely placed beside Hiccup's favorite workbench, so he knew that if there was any place that Jack would paint a self-portrait or something to represent himself – which Hiccup hoped dearly he had, and that Hiccup's actions last night hadn't made Jack think he was any less important than anyone else now on these walls – it would be there.
He wasn't wrong.
Right above the two stations was a breathtaking mural of Frost's iconic snowflakes and patterns that surrounded a very detailed black dragon. It wasn't a portrait of Jack, which Hiccup definitely wouldn't mind seeing every day, but it might as well have been since, at the very center of the mural, being cradled by the claws of the dragon, was the symbol that Jack used as the signature for his work.
No, Hiccup realized, walking closer. It's not exactly the same, it's...
Realization struck him as he recognized it. Instinctively, Hiccup reached up to clutch at the tattoo on his left shoulder – the one whose design perfectly matched what was now painted on the wall for years to come.
...our symbol.
It was a symbol that, even now, took Hiccup's breath away whenever he saw it. A symbol that, regardless of the curiosity of others, held a meaning that would only be shared between the two of them.
Their symbol was surrounded by a loving embrace of snowflakes, the shades of blue and white mixing together in what seemed like a thousand different ways. A blizzard of emotion and security that made Hiccup feel safe and protected from everything outside these walls.
It reminded Hiccup of the experimental murals that Jack had made across the city right before they'd gotten together. Because while Hiccup had just been silently panicking over how to confess, Jack had been figuring out his feelings by painting what were essentially love letters on every street corner and alleyway wall.
(To be fair, it'd taken Jamie giving what had basically been a thesis-level analysis on the symbolism of Frost's new art and comparing it to his old art for Jack to realize that he was in love. That'd been both embarrassing and gratifying at the same time.)
But for this piece in front of Hiccup now... the complexity and time it must've taken to do each snowflake alone must've taken forever. Add in the portraits around the shop, and Jack must've been working furiously all night to have finished before Hiccup had come down.
In fact... Hiccup looked around, searching for a familiar white-haired boy. I wouldn't be surprised if he was passed out around here somewhere.
Hiccup walked closer to Toothless' station. He was unsurprised to see the metal dragon open a neon green eye as he got closer. The judgment in his expression told Hiccup that the Night Fury had been awake for a while. He'd probably listened to Jack talk – and likely complain – about Hiccup while finishing up his work.
But then, Toothless glanced at the other side of his station. He looked down at something, and then back at Hiccup pointedly, before closing his eyes and powering down.
Hiccup snorted at the clear instruction – and dismissal – before walking around the station. His heart settled in his chest as he saw Jack asleep next on the metal bench next to Toothless. It wasn't a comfortable spot, but Hiccup had passed out there more than a few times, so he couldn't judge (without being a hypocrite, at least).
A smile tugged at Hiccup's lips as he took a moment to examine Jack's sleeping form, so calm compared to his generally high energy and mischievous self during the day. Jack's fingers were completely covered in spray paint, which didn't surprise Hiccup since Jack refused to wear anything but fingerless gloves – apparently, they were "too cool" not to use – while working.
It was a feature that was as endearing as it was exasperating since Hiccup, during the time he hadn't known that Jackson Overland and Frost were one and the same, had bought any number of ridiculous excuses – from Jack spilling the ink cartridge that they put on clothes to keep people from shoplifting to blaming the kids for being messy with their markers – before finally putting together the truth.
There was also a dried smudge of mixed colors on Jack's cheek – undoubtedly from how he'd tap his fingers against his face while thinking through a design even though Jack knew it'd leave a mark and then pout when anyone made fun of him for it.
Hiccup glanced over at his workbench, just now noticing that Jack's favorite blue jacket was laid on there. Thus, Jack was solely left in his long-sleeved, navy-blue jumpsuit. It hugged his slim frame, the ice white lines at the center of the shirt trailing down below his belt and connecting to the white lines of the pants.
The reflective design maybe wasn't the best for stealth – especially when they were being chased at night – but Hiccup had never objected too much since Jack was the definition of an escape artist with his 'faster the wind' running speed and parkour skill. Though, the boosters in the heels of his boots that gave him an extra bit of lift for his jumps certainly had saved the artist from some really close calls.
(And, maybe, another reason Hiccup didn't complain was because Jack looked amazing in this outfit.)
Said boots and knee pads were haphazardly piled in the corner beneath the jacket. Hiccup could just imagine Jack whistling to himself as he walked around barefoot – something that Hiccup always told him was too dangerous to do in the workshop, on account of the scraps of metal, wires, and broken parts lying around, but had yet to convince his boyfriend to stop.
(Jack could be very distracting when he wanted to be - and even when he didn't intend to be.)
But as good as Jack looked right now, Hiccup knew that he couldn't be getting any decent rest like this. Emma, for sure, would be very cross with them both if Hiccup just let Jack sleep here during these hours.
However, instead of calling out to wake him, Hiccup kneeled down and rested his lips on the crown of Jack's forehead. He slowly trailed his fingers through the white strands of hair, gently rubbing Jack's scalp with his thumb to slowly bring him into awareness.
There were other, more effective, ways to wake Jack up, but Hiccup took the moment to relish in the peace of this moment – in knowing that Jack was here with him.
Jack could've gone halfway across the city, halfway across the planet if he wanted to with his resources and connections. Instead, he chose to be here with his utterly underserving boyfriend.
And even if Hiccup feared he'd never be able to properly say it, he was very, very, very grateful.
Slowly, Jack's eyes fluttered open.
His pure, crystalline blue eyes were hazy for a moment before settling on Hiccup. He studied Hiccup's expression for a moment before a familiar, roguishly charming grin filled his face.
"Glad you like it," Jack whispered.
A million replies warred inside of Hiccup, but more than anything, what he really wanted to say right now was "I love you."
Even for a normal relationship, Hiccup knew he hadn't said it enough since they'd gotten together, but it was even more unfair of him in this case. Because even as formidable as Frost the graffiti artist of the rebellion – an unparalleled genius in his own measure even if it wasn't in ways as predictable as Hiccup – made himself appear to everyone else, Jack was someone who needed a lot of positive reassurance.
Assurance that he was needed.
That he was important.
That he was wanted.
And after all he'd done to make Hiccup's life, as well as the lives of everyone in Berk City, better, it was such a small price to ask.
Instead, Jack had to put up with Hiccup's misdirected frustration and emotional shutdowns – and at a more frequent rate than everyone else since Jack had a talent for being around to see the worst sides Hiccup had to offer.
It was just three words.
Easy to sound out.
Far less than everything Jack deserved.
But instead of "I love you", what came out of Hiccup's mouth was, "Why would you do this for me?"
It was ungrateful. Mortifying, even.
Really, if Hiccup could think fast enough to work around some of the best supercomputers in the country, why couldn’t he do something as simple as speak properly?
Fortunately, Jack didn't answer, seeming to know that Hiccup needed a moment to try again and verbalize his thoughts better.
"I yelled at you for caring about my health," Hiccup forced out finally, "and your response was... was to make me this?" His throat tightened, heart feeling like it was being squeezed. "To make me something so incredible?"
The silence stretched out between them.
Finally, Jack grinned again.
"Yeah."
Something about the one-word response made Hiccup snort. It was clear neither of them was an elegant speaker. No, they'd always done better in showing who they were through their work.
But while Jack's work could be endlessly appreciated and captivate all who saw it, Hiccup's work of combining metal and code did little to help him convey the emotions he wanted so badly to show Jack. For being renowned as the "genius engineer of the century" to those who knew about him, Hiccup certainly didn't feel smart right now.
(Or ever, honestly.)
Hiccup watched as Jack sat up, the artist making a motion to rub at his eyes before Hiccup grabbed his hands with a pointed look. Jack looked momentarily confused before noticing the paint covering his fingers. He rolled his eyes playfully, grabbing his jacket and rubbing the sand from his eyes with that.
Hiccup huffed – the jacket probably wasn't that much cleaner, but at least it wouldn't be directly putting chemicals into Jack's sensitive eyes – but didn't say anything, waiting to see if Jack would say anything else.
Then, to Hiccup's surprise, Jack turned away from the mural – their mural – and gestured to all the portraits scattered around the workshop.
"I bet you're wondering why I drew everyone we know, right?"
Hiccup shrugged. "It crossed my mind."
Jack snorted before his eyes warmed. He reached out to grab his hand again, trailing his fingers against the callouses on Hiccup's palms absentmindedly.
Apparently, it'd always fascinated Jack to feel the differences between the marks left on Hiccup's hands from his inventing and compare it to his own hands from the hours of painting and parkour. To physically feel the unique ways their work had shaped them.
"I just wanted you to remember that, even when you're holed up working alone in here, you're not actually alone." While Jack's touch was as soft as a feather, his voice was firm. "There are so many people who love you. People want you to be taking care of yourself just as much as you take care of all of us."
Again, Jack gestured around the workshop, but this time Hiccup saw the portraits in a new light. Now, he could also see the hints of affection, concern, and love in the eyes of the painted figures – expressions that he could recall seeing on their real-life counterparts throughout various moments of his life.
(Expressions Hiccup had seen yesterday when he'd stared shutting people away.)
The realization felt... embarrassing. Like Hiccup was being exposed and his flaws laid out even more for everyone to see.
But it also felt good. Like the right amount of warmth was filling him, surrounding him, without becoming suffocating.
And though Hiccup knew he didn't need to ask, he turned to the mural above them. He pressed his nose into the side of Jack's head, breathing in deeply as his shoulders relaxed.
"You too?" Hiccup murmured, lips tickling Jack's ears.
He felt Jack's face heat up a bit, but the graffiti artist laughed.
"Of course, you dolt," Jack said affectionately. "I didn't appreciate you snapping at me, but I also know that you're probably punishing yourself far more than I ever could."
Hiccup felt torn between laughing and wincing, doing an odd-feeling combination of both. "Jack, I... I really am sorry about that."
"I know," Jack said simply, leaning into him. "Just like I know that, even after apologizing and me accepting it, you'd still feel guilty and make yourself suffer far longer than needed."
Jack gestured up to the mural next to them. Immediately, Hiccup felt reassured and awed by the sight. He'd never get tired of looking at Jack's paintings... but the fact that he hadn't been able to look at the work Jack had done on the walls of his bedroom only proved Jack's point.
He'd been punishing himself – finding every reason why Jack shouldn't love him even though there had been evidence all around him about how much Jack did love him.
As if reading his thoughts, Jack continued, still staring at the mural above them.
"Regardless of what you tell yourself, or what stupid things you or I say or do, you will never stop meaning the world to me." Jack turned to look at him, pressing their foreheads together. "You're stuck with me, Tech Head, so don't make it even harder on yourself on my account. I know you love me."
I know you love me.
Hiccup swallowed, wrapping his arms around Jack to hold him even closer. He buried his face in Jack's shoulder, suddenly unable to even look at his boyfriend. He felt like a top that had been wound up too many times, like a tower that was about to come tumbling down.
But he knew Jack didn't mind. Knew that Jack understood as his hands simply came up to thread through Hiccup's hair, fingers playing through the brown locks with a content humming.
Truly, Hiccup was lucky beyond words to have a boyfriend like Jack. Someone who understood that it really wasn't personal when Hiccup got so wound up and his words seemed to all hide inside.
Sandy, Jack's friend who worked as a therapist on top of his work in the rebellion, had once assured Hiccup that his occasional difficulty with speaking was only to be expected.
After all, mix together Berk City's totalitarian grip on technology, Hiccup's talent for inventing revealing itself at a very early age, and Stoick's strict overprotectiveness in hiding Hiccup's gift – which was only fair after what had happened to Hiccup's mother – and it would lead to a very difficult childhood for anyone.
Hiccup would be lying if he said he didn't see the sense in Sandy's words. Especially since, before he'd truly understood how dangerous his talent was, his younger self had had a tendency to ramble non-stop about his ideas and engineering facts far beyond his age.
It understandably led to Stoick, and other trusted allies, constantly yelling at him to keep quiet. To remind him how, if the government ever found out about what Hiccup could do (or at least what he was trying to do), he'd be taken away forever.
Suffice to say, it had messed Hiccup up a bit. He'd eventually just retreated into his inventing, avoiding others – especially those his age – and hating whenever he did have to actually interact with someone.
(It was one of the reasons he'd loved Frost's art so much. The way it could silently convey so much emotion and meaning without any pressure or expectation. The way that it made Hiccup feel understood.)
Sure, things had turned around after Hiccup had successfully made Toothless and all the D.R.A.G.O.N AIs after him – thus proving that his inventing was worth the risk and that he wasn't just the dangerous failure most people believed him to be – but sometimes it was still difficult to not fall back on bad habits.
(Especially since the sudden change in treatment by everyone in his life had proven to be difficult to deal with in its own way. Maybe that was one of the reasons it'd always been easier with Jack – because Jack had always treated him like he was something special.)
Sandy had offered to work with Hiccup one-on-one. Not necessarily just for his speech-related issues, but because Sandy believed that, as the young engineer at the center of the rebellion and all that it entailed, Hiccup could benefit from having a safe space to talk about it all without the pressure and worry that his words would change things around him.
(Sandy was probably right. It was clear that going to therapy was helping Jack since, when they'd first met, he'd probably run off and insecurely avoid Hiccup for a week after being snapped at like that for no reason.)
As Hiccup thought this all over, he suddenly felt Jack's body tense. Hiccup smirked, the motion of Jack's body telling him that the graffiti artist was trying to hide a yawn even though, with the two of them pressed together like this, it was a hopeless effort.
And for all the times Hiccup never knew the right thing to say, he finally knew what to say right now.
Hiccup released Jack from his grip, leaning back enough so he could see Jack's face. Jack definitely looked less awake now than he had a few minutes ago, blinking sleepily.
"Time to sleep," Hiccup said, gently pulling them both up to their feet with one hand on Toothless' repair station for balance.
"Both of us?" Jack murmured, looking unfairly cute with his blurry eyes.
Unable to resist any longer, Hiccup leaned forward, pressing their lips together.
Jack's lips weren't overly smooth and perfect like how romance novels liked to describe. In fact, they were a bit dry from the long hours out in the cold weather and puffy since Jack had a bad habit of chewing on his lips when he was working.
But those imperfections only made kissing Jack better than anything Hiccup could have ever imagined.
Hiccup released the kiss, hoping all the love he couldn't yet verbally express was showing through his eyes. If the way Jack was smiling back at him was any indication, Hiccup knew that he'd gotten the message.
"Both of us."
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