More Than Forever, page 14
Jack swallows, his chest aching. “I know.”
There’s another pause, charged with energy and anger and pain. Nick shakes his head.
“Why? And don’t give me any bullshit about Dorian. You’ve seen him, he's gorgeous, but he’s the most frivolous person I’ve ever met.”
“He is stunning.”
“And every conversation he has is about indulgence. I’ve never once told him anything important.”
“He’s seen you naked.”
“Everyone’s seen you naked.”
“Not everyone.”
Nick glances at Jack, scowling.
“Dorian isn’t my friend. He was… look, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t love him. I did. But I couldn’t give him what he wants, and he couldn’t love me back. We didn’t work, Jack. And so, we broke up. Years ago. I don’t love him anymore, I barely think about him. Dorian is nothing to me. He’s a guy I slept with a few times. He will never be as important to me as you are.”
There’s a pause. Jack swallows around the lump in his throat.
“It’s not about Dorian. Or, well. It is.” Jack shuffles in his seat, looking down at the frost glistening around his feet. It feels awkward, saying these things out loud to a person. It was easier when he was writing the letters. “I will never know what heat feels like, not really. Not for more than five minutes, and not in the relaxing way everyone else does. But everyone else has, and they talk about it all the time. Dorian being with you, in that lazy way that comes with the heat, it was just another thing that everyone else could have that I can’t.”
He looks up to find Nick staring at him. They watch each other, the air almost crackling with anticipation, for a long minute. Jack waits, enjoying the tension, the excitement that is pulsing through his body, enjoying the intensity in Nick’s eyes. Enjoying the tingle in his fingertips. He could wait forever in this moment, but Nick gives him a soft smile and pulls on the reins, turning the sleigh around.
“Where are we going?” Jack asks.
“You’ll see.” Nick’s smirk is wicked, and Jack wants to climb into his lap and press their bodies together. Instead, he leans back in his chair, staring as they move soundlessly through the sky.
They’re trudging through snow, down a narrow ravine between two ice covered mountains. The crunch of Nick’s boots is loud, Jack’s footsteps almost silent behind him. He has no idea where they’re going, but the excitement of a new place bubbles in Jack’s chest. He’s never been here before. He’s not even entirely sure how he would have got here. He’d have to fly up, and try and land on the slip of ice that they flew between, stepping down onto the shelf where the sleigh is currently sitting. Hidden from the world.
There is nothing around them apart from sheer cliff faces and snow that is quickly turning into slick ice as the cliff faces lean closer together. The snow can’t get down there, not really. A splattering of it covers the rock and ice. If Nick’s feet weren’t so sure, his body so strong and secure, Jack would worry about him slipping. But he has a torch pointed at the floor, and is staring ahead of him like he knows exactly where he’s going. It’s a confidence that Jack is finding very distracting.
“Where are we?” Jack says, looking around. He has no idea what continent they’re on, or how Nick got them here. He was too busy watching Nick as they flew. The flex of his muscles, the soft crease at the corner of his eyes. The tilt of his lips. Jack wants to kiss him.
“You’ll see,” Nick says. There’s a soft amusement in his voice. Jack follows him, shamelessly looking at his butt.
“Do we have time for this?”
“I started work a little earlier today. We have time.”
After a moment Jack coughs. “Are you going to abandon me again?”
Nick chuckles. “No.”
“Are you going to kiss me again?”
“We’ll see.”
Jack smirks. They walk on in silence, the top of the ravine closing, the ice around them growing dark. The beam of light from Nick’s torch is harsh, casting menacing shadows on the walls. Jack can see in the dark. Perks of being Jack Frost. He’s not used to needing torch light to help him see. The effect is jarring, and he can feel his pulse in his fingertips. He’s not sure if it’s excitement or fear. He moves slightly closer to Nick anyway, letting the solid weight of Nick calm him down. He wants to hold Nick’s hand, to link his fingers with Nick’s, to feel Nick’s skin, soothing and protective, as he takes Jack’s hand.
He allows his hand to bump the back of Nick’s instead. Just one small touch. Nick’s fingers, wrapped in thick gloves, flick out, twisting with Jack’s for a second before pulling away.
It’s almost pitch black when they arrive at the gaping entrance to a cave, the torch doing almost nothing. Jack stares at the hole. It’s too deep to really see what’s going on in the distance, his vision isn’t that good. Nick stops, looking into it for a moment before glancing at Jack.
“We’re here.”
Jack nods, peering into the cave.
“Is it the secret entrance to the North Pole? I don’t think I can go there.”
“You can’t, and no, we’re not near the North Pole.”
Jack is about to say something, to try and ease the tension that he feels, when Nick takes a step forward. Jack follows, not hurrying, because he doesn’t do that. But walking respectfully quickly. Next to Nick. They walk in tense silence, Jack’s chest tight. Nick’s footsteps echo off the walls, the torch just touching the darkness in front of them. And then they start going up. Jack watches as Nick climbs steadily, his thighs pressing against his trousers. If Jack isn’t careful, he’ll trip. He focuses on the uneven ground and not the attractive man walking next to him in the dark.
“You spent all that time mocking me for my ice cave, and you had one all the time,” Jack says when the silence starts to move from trilling to terrifying.
“Jack, stop talking.” Nick chuckles, the sound bouncing around them. The space seems bigger, somehow lighter, and Jack scowls. They’ve been walking up for what seems like hours, but could be five minutes. Jack’s back aches with tension and anticipation. He coughs, needing to make some sound. To relieve some of the static that is building unbearably in the air as they walk up a hill in a cave in the dark. He goes to say something, and then Nick’s hand is on his. His fingers slip between Jack’s, his gloves getting cold and frosty, and tightens his grip. Jack stares down at their hands. They’re holding hands. Nick is holding his hand. Jack can feel every single nerve in his body light up at the pressure of Nick’s hand against his. His fingers spreading Jack’s open. His palm, pressed hard against Jack’s. Warmth flowing through Jack that makes his pulse jump and his head swim slightly. Nick swings his arm a little, taking Jack’s hand with his. It’s a very good thing that they’re in the dark, because the slight friction of material against Jack’s skin is making his blood pump, and his already semi-hard dick is softly swelling.
Jack glances up at Nick to see him smiling at Jack through the gloom, and Jack forgets that he needs to breathe. For the first time ever, he stumbles on the ice. Nick pulls him back upright with a soft chuckle. Jack opens his mouth to say something but can’t think of a single thing to say. There are no excuses. He tripped because Nick is touching him and it is terrifying and wonderful and possibly the most erotic thing that has ever happened to Jack. He wants to melt into Nick. He wants to feel Nick against him. Maybe even without the clothes. Oh, who is he kidding, definitely without the clothes.
The ground beneath them starts to become rocky. Around Jack’s feet the ice sparkles under the torch light. Jack focuses on it, rather than freaking out. Nick is holding his hand. Casually walking with their hands linked. The warmth is there, tingly but not… dangerous? It doesn’t feel dangerous. Jack’s heartbeat pulses in his fingertips. His back tightens. He wants to ask Nick where they’re going. Why Nick is holding his hand. What it could mean.
“We have to go through there,” Nick says. His voice echoes. He shines the torch light on a crack in front of them.
Jack nods, even though Nick isn’t looking at him and he isn’t looking at Nick. It’s a small gap. He’s used to going through spaces like that. He can usually slide thorough without much of a struggle. He’s not sure how Nick will fit through the gap. His shoulders are too broad, surely. He raises an eyebrow and turns to say something to find Nick stripping off his coat and gloves, laying them on a rock next to him. Without the coat, his shoulders seem even broader, the fabric of his checked shirt stretching across his back, the sleeves tight on his arms. He’s rolled the sleeves up, his forearms rippling as he starts to unbutton his shirt. Jack’s mouth hangs open. A rushing fills his ears. His mouth is dry. Nick is stripping in front of him. Not completely. But he’s taking his clothes off. He peels his shirt off, and stands in the weak light of his torch. The black t-shirt he has on hugs his pecs, hugs the gentle slope of his stomach. Stretches tight on his biceps. Jack wants to touch him, his fingers already twitching towards Nick without thinking about it. Nick smirks, and ducks into the gap. He gives a wiggle, and then he’s gone, leaving the torch behind.
Jack shakes his head. Nick is gorgeous, of course he is. Jack has always known this. And they kissed, and that was amazing too. And Nick held his hand. All good stuff. Not good enough that Jack should lose his head and all sense. He rubs his hands over his face, straightening his back and slipping through the crack.
He steps into the light.
They’re in a cave, but also not a cave. The space is covered with rock that is worn and open and hangs above them perilously. Thick beams of rock keep it up, like whatever current caused the hole whipped around them to keep the roof standing. The space is cavernous, the ground soft with snow. Light spills in through gaps in the rocks above them, casting beams onto the icicles that hang on every surface. The whole place sparkles. Jack doesn’t want to breathe. He doesn’t want to do anything to disturb the perfect peace of this secret place. He spins, taking it all in. Nick is watching him. He knows. He’s watched enough people to be aware of when they’re watching him back. But he doesn’t care. This place is… it’s more that Jack could have imagined when thinking of places where he could be with Nick. It’s warmer, softer. Bigger. Jack can’t take it all in.
Jack turns to Nick, his mouth hanging open. Nick grins at him, a soft blush covering his cheeks. His breath makes curls in the air in front of him.
“This is…” Jack trails off, gesturing. He doesn’t know if there are words for it.
Nick chuckles. “I’ve never brought anyone else here. No one can come here without flying, not really. The vampires maybe, but they never come this far north. It used to be where the river ran underground, but the humans made a dam, and the river was rerouted. The only way to get here is through the mountains.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Nick smiles softly before walking towards Jack. Jack watches, not moving. He stands close. Close enough that Jack can admire the soft tilt of his lips, the flecks of brown in his eyes, the pink tongue that darts out and wets his lips. Jack can feel Nick’s breath on his face. Can feel his heat. Can feel the intensity of his eyes. His scalp itches, and he would sway towards Nick, if swaying were something he did.
“I used to come here all the time, when I wasn’t so busy. Before there were so many children in the world,” Nick says.
Jack smiles. “I can see why.”
Nick breathes loudly. Jack stares. He could lean forward. Could press his lips to Nick’s. He feels dizzy with it. His whole body is charged. Nick brushes hair off Jack’s forehead, his fingers electric against Jack’s skin. It’s reckless to be this close. If he gets too hot, he could die. He knows that. It nearly happened. He was thoughtless, and he fainted. But Nick saved him. And they kissed, and Jack was fine. He was warm, but it was different. He was alright. More than alright. He felt alive. Excited.
Normal.
Nick’s eyes flicker over his face. They’re hooded as he looks at Jack’s lips. Jack’s knees feel weak. His legs both heavy and too light. Their breathing is loud, pants that seem to fit together in a pattern of rise and fall. Jack’s face is damp. He licks his lips. A soft growl comes from Nick, sending shivers down Jack’s spine. Nick stares into his eyes, frowning slightly.
“Being with you is something that anyone else can have. All year round, if they want. They could find you in your house and kiss you and touch you, on any random Thursday,” Nick whispers. Jack shakes his head.
“But they don’t.”
“That’s because they’re twats.”
Jack can feel his heart in his throat. His body feels full, tight with heat and want and need. He doesn’t dare move. He doesn’t want to break the fragile possibility of this moment.
“You know, you could kiss me now,” he says. His voice is cracked, raw.
Nick’s eyes darken. He leans closer. “You’ll tell me if you get too hot.”
“I promise.”
“Fuck,” Nick growls, surging forward and smashing his lips against Jack’s. Jack squeaks in surprise and he thinks he feels Nick chuckle against him. Grabbing Nick’s coat, he gives a little shove. Nick’s arms wrap around him, pressing him close, and suddenly Jack is pulling instead of pushing. He closes his eyes, melting into Nick. The rich cinnamon smell of Nick surrounds Jack, and he groans. He can feel Nick, solid and warm against him. The scratch of his beard on Jack’s skin. His large hands gripping Jack’s waist, his back, his shoulders. Jack brings his hands up, not sure he should be touching Nick, not wanting to make him too cold, but needing to anyway. He runs his hands through Nick’s hair, the frost making it crunchy. Nick moans, opening his mouth, and Jack opens his. Their tongues rub together and Jack is dizzy with it. Good dizzy. Jack doesn’t know if he should stop. If Nick is getting cold. If Nick is worrying. But he promised he would tell Nick if he was getting too hot, and he has to assume Nick will tell him if he’s getting too cold. And he hasn’t said anything. So Jack continues kissing him, slotting his leg between Nick’s and leaning into him. His cock is hard, achingly hard, and he wants to rub it against Nick, wants to feel Nick against him. Wants so much that he doesn’t know if he can have.
His body sings where Nick touches him, his pulse wild and his breath ragged. He doesn’t want to think, to focus on anything that isn’t Nick in front of him. Nick touching him. Nick kissing him. Finally kissing him. He can feel Nick’s erection against his side and hear the excitement in Nick’s groans, and he deepens the kiss further. He licks into Nick’s mouth. Nick tastes of mint and sweet and rich spice. It’s more than Jack can comprehend.
Their lips move together, and Jack becomes dimly aware that the warmth that was fine before is becoming a little uncomfortable. Disappointment twists in his stomach, and he relaxes his grip. Nick breathes against him, his arms slipping away from Jack’s body, and they part slowly.
Nick is grinning at him, his eyes flickering over Jack like he’s checking that Jack is okay. Jack smirks back, not bothering to hide his erection or the harsh rise and fall of his chest. He doesn’t care that he’s panting in front of Nick. He mainly wants Nick to see that he’s alright. That he didn’t get too hot. That he stopped it before he did. That he kept his promise.
That Nick can trust him.
“Thank you, for stopping it,” Nick says. His voice is a little cracked.
“It was that bad a kiss, huh?” Jack raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side. Nick laughs, his head rocking backwards.
“No. No, it was a great kiss.” He pins Jack to the spot, his eyes dark and filled with heat as he rearranges his cock. Jack bites his lip, stifling a moan. The air between them sizzles, sparkling with intent and possibility. Jack allows himself a moment of indulgence before standing up straighter.
“Shouldn’t you be delivering presents?”
“Fuck. Yeah. We should go.” Nick grins. He leans forward, pressing one last kiss to Jack’s lips, the soft hairs around his mouth tickling Jack’s skin. Jack sighs into it, and then Nick is pulling away. They leave the cave through the gap, and Jack waits as Nick puts his clothes back on. As they walk back through the dark ravine, Nick takes Jack’s hand, their fingers twisting together, and Jack’s heart tightens with happiness.
year ten
. . .
JACK
Jack is starting to worry he is being insufferable. He’s not been able to think of anything apart from Nick for the past few months, and he’s sure that Pascal is starting to get annoyed. So annoyed that he’s decided to punish Jack. He’s dragged him to an exhibition opening of an artist that maybe should have died a long time ago. Bloody immortals.
It’s being held in a small gallery in Christchurch. So that the artist won’t draw too much attention to himself, since he’s supposed to be dead, Jack guesses. The crisp autumn day has turned into a crisp autumn night, and the exposed brick walls of the gallery do nothing to add warmth. It probably isn’t good for the paintings. Jack doesn’t think that’s much of a loss.
The downside to the cool weather is that Pascal thinks Jack doesn’t have an excuse to bail. It’s at night, and it's only immortals there. It isn’t too warm. And they’re artists, so Jack could feasibly wear nothing and get away with it. He isn’t wearing nothing. He’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt. And he’s standing close to the open door, and far from the art. The wall is getting a little frosty, but every so often Pascal arrives with a server to wipe it with a tea towel. Jack doesn’t need to tell Pascal how embarrassing that is, but he glares every time anyway.
“Remind me why I’m here,” Jack says, when Pascal makes his next trip to clean the wall.
“You need to get out more.”
Jack rolls his eyes. “I get out plenty.”
“Once a year to kiss Nick isn’t plenty.”
