Disclaimer: oh, you know i don't own bennefrost, or rotg, or dreamworks.
A/N: i'm trying to contribute to the fandom! i know this came out too short, but, ugh... don't look at me!
this is smut that isn't really smut so i rated it T. is that okay?
and Jamie is around sixteen or seventeen here ahihihi.
Sojourning Winter
They tumble quite recklessly onto Jamie's bed, and in no time they struggle to touch in muffled, ragged gasps – slivers of pleasure clawing at the frosty air. Tonight there is a mild series of susurrations in the streets, smothering Burgess, and Jamie swears his windowsill trembles too violently along with Jack's tremors. Jack cocoons him in feather-light pecks and fleeting (but firm) promises, and cold lips are inches away before they provide only the faintest inkling of a sting on his. There is a homey kind of warmth concocted in the lascivious pressure of hands and a lover's reassuring tongue – that often pauses, making sure to solicit groans of need and want. Lips pepper coolly, sojourning on soft skin.
Jamie feels red and hot, most unintelligible, as he tugs fondly at silky silver hair, as he pants wantonly into open-mouthed kisses. And he can touch winter in himself, around himself, splayed on the sheets so quickly, so slowly, so perfectly. Winter grazes his sides with cool snowflakes of love and lust, and it's different – being with Jack like this when they were once meant to make sloppy snowmen, and absolutely not kisses. But it's all so familiar, too – it's still Jack nevertheless who maps and wrecks his body with cautious, caring hands, engulfing him in friction and wonder and Jack Frost. He almost forgets to care when he moans too loudly in the dark of his room, eyes watching him fall apart. There is love out in the streets and further throughout the vicinity, but this is what Jamie needs altogether, only, and forever. Jack is pure and sobbing and impeccably beautiful to him, and Jamie tries to stitch the sprite together again with touches too deep not to forget, tries to imprint a memory in the making.
Jamie reaches for Jack's heart as their bodies work in utter symmetry, and this is already a promise in itself, wrapped delicately in whispers and whimpers. Jack doesn't forget to leave a note, a peck, and rosy marks they call love bites, to reassure them both that everything is real and he is real. But Jack knows Jamie doesn't forget that easily, especially not after a night of hushed truths and a wholeness neither two of them had ever felt before.
A/N: i tried, pls.
