A/N
Takes place before HTTYD2, when Hiccup is 18.
Excuse any typos, I did my best spell check I could do while procrastinating. Feedback is appreciated, and if you find any grammatical or spelling errors, let me know.

In the three years Jack Frost had known Hiccup, much had changed. Slowly but surely, Jack had fallen harder and harder for the young Viking. Hiccup began to grow taller and older than Jack, and their friendship had blossomed into a swirling blizzard of emotion and love. The previously timid and shy boy had grown into a smart and outgoing teenager, but Jack had deteriorated as he watched his love grow older by the day. Every month, week, and day that passed pulled Hiccup further away from Jack, pulling him towards the oblivion of adulthood, where belief in childhood Guardians was not an option. Hiccup would leave him one day soon, and Jack knew it.
The question was, could he bring himself to do it before Hiccup did?

Wind howled over the plains of Berk as ominous clouds loomed in the distance.
"Planning a storm tonight, Jack?" a quiet voice called, followed by an embrace. Jack turned his head to glance at Hiccup. A light smile played in his lips.
"I have something in store. It's been brewing for a while," Jack murmured, turning back to look out the window. Frost was beginning to form on the glass.
"You've been holding something in, that's for sure," Hiccup stated, eyeing the oncoming storm.
Jack didn't reply. He closed his eyes, and inhaled the musky smell of earth and leather that was Hiccup. He turned to face his lover, keeping Hiccup's arms firmly around his waist. He opened his eyes, blinking up at him. "I swear it was only yesterday that it was me looking down at you."
Hiccup smiled, beginning to loose himself once again in the endless glaciers of Jack's eyes.
"You're just unhappy that I'm the bigger one now," he replied, swooping down to kiss Jack's jawline.
"Hmph. You bet I'm not happy. I can't believe you're the eldest."
Hiccup pulled back, chuckling. "Jack, you're over three hundred years old, shut up."
"My body is seventeen! Yours is eighteen now. It's not fair, seeing you grow up right before my eyes," Jack sighed, averting his gaze. Hiccup put a hand on Jack's face. He stroked his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw.

"It's only one year, Jack. Barely any time at all! It makes no difference, you know. Time doesn't make me any less crazy about you," Hiccup smiled sincerely, searching Jack's face, demanding eye contact.
Jack couldn't hide his smile.
"I'm crazy about you too, kid. But when you've seen time like I have, you realise how precious just one year can be. Change for you, it's a part of life. But me? No, I haven't changed a day in my whole damn existence. Time is slipping through our fingers and I'm the only one who sees it." Jack turned back to the window, his eyes glittering in his reflection. The storm was racing towards the village, hurried by the raging headwinds.
Hiccup sat on the windowsill, forcing his body between the glass pane and the spirit.
"Time isn't slipping away, Jack! No, that's almost as if you're saying it's wasted, as if we only have a certain amount of time left. Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Hiccup's mind was racing, his emerald eyes searching Jack's. It broke Jack's heart in two to see his expressions; reassuring, doubtful, dumbfounded, and finally, accusing.

This isn't fair, isn't fair, isn't fair! Jack's mind screamed at him. No, not yet! We're both not ready for this! Don't!
Jack cringed. He inhaled, then exhaled. The temperature in the room was quickly dropping, the previously heartily burning fire in the hearth beginning to die down. "Hiccup…" Jack began, trying to summon the courage to look him in the eyes. Big mistake.
Hiccup backed up a few paces, staring at Jack.
"Hiccup, listen to me. You and me...it…I know it feels like we're meant to be, but…we can't. We can't be together anymore. You have responsibilities now, you are going to be the chief. You can't be a Viking chief and still tell people you believe in spirits and sprites. They are children's stories to them, I'm not even real to them!" Jack was exasperated, and the wind picked up.

The storm was going to hit. Outside, the townspeople rushed to bring their belongings inside, to finish tying down their shutters.
"Stop. Jack, stop. You are real to me, you are everything to me! Don't…don't do this to me!" Hiccup was beginning to get louder.
Heart breaking in two? That was nothing. The look of total devastation plastered on Hiccup's face had cleaved Jack's heart open, sliced it into slivers and burnt it to ashes.
"Hiccup, you know we can't do this anymore! I'm so damn sorry, I didn't plan it like this!" Jack said, running his hands through his silvery hair, holding back his tears.
"Plan?! You fucking planned this? How could you, Jack? How could you possibly plan the way you'll leave me?!" Hiccup was crying now, tears streaming from those luscious green eyes.
Jack had never once heard his love swear, never. This was new.
"No! Fuck, that came out wrong! I knew this would come, alright?! I knew we couldn't keep doing this!" The thunder was deafening now, and Jack was yelling.
Hiccup began to sob. "You can't leave me! I need you! I'd rather fucking die than be without you! I love you." he spat, not bothering to wipe or hide his tears.

The storm suddenly quieted. It was almost silent, save the sobs. He loved him? Jack's mind reeled. He never thought he would ever actually say it. Jack was suddenly in Hiccup's face, tears of his own falling down his snowy cheeks.
"You will not die without me. You don't need me, you can't anymore. I'm so, so, so sorry. You are the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me in all of my three hundred years, I will never forget you. I will think of you every waking minute of my existence. I love you more than anyone could possibly love anyone." Jack grabbed Hiccup's face, pulled it down and kissed his tear-streaked lips for the last time. He hugged him, hugged him tight. He breathed the musky earth and leather smell of his Hiccup. He pulled away, and when Hiccup would not let go, yanked himself out of his grip. He flung open the window, and leapt out. The storm suddenly resumed, the winds picking him up and whisking him away. Far away from Berk, from his love, from his Hiccup.

In the dead of the night, as the wind and rain and thunder rattled his window pane, a broken boy sunk to the floor and gave up then and there on the effort to ever put himself back together.

And somewhere, in the dead of the night, as the wind and rain and thunder swept him away into the black sky, a broken boy gave up then and there on the effort to ever put himself back together.