An idea. I don't even know what happened...

Open Minded Drunkenness

Being drunk was meant to numb all of your senses.
That was what Jack thought at least.

It was meant to make everything go mellow and floaty. It was like he was underwater, with all the sounds dulled, his vision slightly blurry. Everything was meant to be sweet, like eating candyfloss and sweets.
Everything was supposed to be like that.

But it wasn't.

Everything was sharp and bright. He could hear everything, see everything as it slowly unfolded in front of him. He could taste the smell of sex in the air, the passionate moments filling all of his senses, drowning out any logical thought or rational conscious idea…
It was drowned out and ignored. Pushed to one side as Jack focused on other things.

The pressure in his groin, the heat of the body pressed next to him, pressing against him. The slickness of sweat and blood and his own fluids as he thrusted forward, listening to the lusty cries that echoed with every slow and sudden movement.
The feeling of hands gripping his own, something pulling him down, keeping his body pinned against the one beneath him that bucked and arched with every movement.

Jack couldn't remember who had initiated it; the alcohol had seen to that.
Maybe it had been Jack.

Was it…?

It hadn't been long since he had broken up with his girlfriend. He had been craving the heat of another for a while. Maybe it had been the alcohol to give him false confidence.
To push the boy down and strip him, plunge into him and enjoy the moment…

Or was it Hiccup.
Had Hiccup said something? He had been the one to kiss Jack? To undo the boy's buttons, slowly strip off his own clothes, teasing Jack.
Egging him on.

Inviting him…

Was it him, drunk and confused, who had paraded in front of Jack, trying to get him to make the first move? It didn't matter who had struck first. Here Jack was, having sex with his best friend.

With his male best friend.

With his straight, male best friend.

And Jack was straight himself. Wasn't he?
So why was he thrusting so passionately, kissing the boy so passionately, deeply feeling the moments. Why, now that he had head his head about him, was he not breaking away?
Hiccup was still drunk. Jack was still drunk.
If he pulled away, maybe he could force himself to forget and the two of them could pretend something like this never happened. Then they could still be best friends.
Jack knew this, and he wanted to, but why was he still rocking his hips in time to Hiccup, calling out his name, tracing his mouth over the boy's skin, nipping and sucking, leaving love marks, as if saying Hiccup was his…?

No.
Hiccup was his.
Is his.

Both boys cried out as they hit their climax, their bodies falling to the bed in a tangle of limbs.

"Go out with me," Jack breathed, his eyes soaking in everything he could see. Hiccup's half glazed eyes, the gentle spray of sweat on his skin, the freckles more prominent from his red-tinged skin.
"Took you long enough," the boy whispered back, moving closer for the pair to enjoy a slow gentle kiss.
One of many yet to come.

Your welcome... XD