Walking Hiccup up the driveway, Jack managed to nearly drop the drunk boy again. Hiccup giggled at him and hiccuped again.
"Wheyr are we goin tu"
"What?"
"Wheyr are we goin to Jak"
"Oh," Jack looked down at the stumbling boy, holding him up by the arms, "I'm taking you home."
"Wye are ya doin tat? Need beeeerrr," Hiccup trailed off, almost losing consciousness.
"You really don't Hic."
Jack thought of just laying the nearly unconscious boy down on the couch in the living room, but decided that he would need a comfortable bed to deal with his upcoming hangover.
It was a difficult task to get the boy up a flight of stairs. He kept insisting on laying down on the steps. "C'mon Hic, please?" Jack pleaded with the highly intoxicated teenager. It was no use. He would have to continue to drag Hiccup to his bed.
When he finally got there, he pulled back the sheets and motioned for Hiccup to get in bed. When he saw that the boy was already sleeping, he sighed. Jack effortlessly picked up the boy and put him in his bed.
He was about to leave the room to see what was in the kitchen, when a soft voice surprised him with, "thanks Jackkie"
He smiled and left to go find water. Jack had cured quite a few hangovers and he knew that Hiccup would need it in the morning.
He went downstairs and flipped on the lights. He opened a few cabinets with no luck when his eyes stumbled upon a note on the counter. Out of curiosity he picked it up.
Hiccup,
I'm off to show those faggots that they're going to hell. There should be enough food in the fridge for you. I've left phone numbers of the neighbors and Bucket from the police department on the fridge. Call them if you're in serious trouble. Otherwise, call your grandmother.
Jack cringed at the use of the word "faggot". He didn't understand how some people could be so biased.
He worried for Hiccup. Deep down, he wondered if he should break things off before they got serious. It sure would be safer to the boy, as well as for him.
He stared down at the note.
There had to be a way to change this man's mind. There had to be a way to make him realize that he was making Hiccup so unhappy.
Jack sat down on the floor and scanned over the letter again.
There had to be a way to convince this man that he was causing Hiccup pain.
Jack cared about the boy. He saw himself having a future with this boy.
He blushed at the thought.
There had to be something he could do. He had to be able to do something.
What he had with Hiccup felt so real. It wasn't love, and he doubted it would be for a long time, but it was so so real.
He sighed and set the letter down on the counter.
Right. He was hungry. He needed some water for Hiccup too.
He opened the fridge and pulled out an apple, hoping that Hiccup would be okay with him taking it. His fingers again brushed the cabinets, looking for the one that held glasses. He stopped. Above the sink there was a window. On the windowsill there were photos. One in particular caught his eye.
It was a picture of a man, a woman, and their child. He assumed that this was a photo of Hiccup and his parents.
His mother looked weak and fragile. She sat while the boy and his father stood.
Jack bit into his apple.
His eyes were soon drawn to the hulking man that he assumed to be Hiccup's father.
He had long red hair and a long red beard. Jack felt like he had seen him before. He was a politician, maybe?
He bit into his apple again and opened another cabinet.
"Ah, there you are," he said as he chewed. He took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water.
He carried it upstairs and walked into Hiccup's room.
Jack looked at Hiccup and smiled. He was so peaceful like this, even if he was drunk.
He set the glass on the nightstand next to the sleeping boy and kicked off his jeans. He realized Hiccup was still in skinny jeans.
He debated whether or not to try to wake the boy up, but decided against it.
He curled up next to the dragon rider and nuzzled his hair.
It's literally been like a year since I last updated so oops. Here you go.
