Here's another for Today :)

TIP: actually listen to the song when your reading... Makes it worse.

Grab a hankie mate, it's gonna be a doozy!

Golden light drifted through partially open curtains, dust dancing lazily in the sunlight that filtered in, and onto a freckled face. Brown hair was gently resting on the sleeping boy's face, lips partially open as he slept. Crooked teeth were just about visible between chapped lips, and a button nose crinkled slightly as the boy turned, arm reaching out to the other side of the large bed when he froze. Eyes opened to reveal a startling green as they searched for something. Sitting up, the cream sheets slipped down his shoulders, resting bunched up at his lap. The freckles adorned his shoulders and back too, harsh white lines cut across tanned skin as the scarred tissue was subjected to the slither of light and the boy got up, throwing back the covers with a vengeance. A bare foot and a prosthetic touched the floor, the springs complaining slightly, as the boy shifted his weight. The boy's hair, while neat at the front, had become messy and unruly at the back but he paid no attention to it as he slipped through a door to one side of the bed, green boxers the only thing covering him.

The apartment was clean, white tiles on the floor that lead to a open space kitchen and living room, one wall dedicated to the stunning winter morning in New York city. The boy ignored the view, in favour of looking around at the various bottles and take-away boxes that adorned the surfaces and sections of the floor. The black sofa in the middle of the room was covered with an array of white and brown papers. A news paper was amidst some photographs, shockingly white hair was just about visible that stood out against the multitude of colours of stage lights. A shadow passed over them as the boy passed them, looking around the spacious room. There was no sound, save for the breathing of the brunette and the faint sound of traffic far below.

Turning back to the couch, the boy sat down, shoving the papers aside and put his head in his hands. It had all been a dream. He had expected him to be beside him when he woke. He had expected the smell of coffee to be permeating the apartment and for the sound of singing to be his alarm clock.

This is my winter song to you, the storm is coming soon…it rolls in from the sea.

He hadn't prepared himself for the emptiness again.

2 years he had been gone. 2 years had past since he said goodbye and still he couldn't wrap his head around the fact he was gone.

He highly doubted he was coming back. The other had promised. He'd promised letters and calls to make sure the brunette didn't worry.

My voice a beacon in the night, my words will be your light to carry you to me.

That had stopped a year ago.

MIA they had said on his doorstep. Presumed dead they had continued to say, before legs grew weak and his head had hit the floor.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love...?

Reaching forward, the green eyed man pulled out a silver packet, and slipped a cigarette out and lit it, inhaling as he pulled out a picture from beside him. White hair and a whiter smile stared back at him, blue eyes crinkled in laughter as the colours behind blurred, leaving only the pale figure in focus.

They say that things just cannot grow beneath the winter snow…or so I have been told.

Green eyes closed, a wistful smile on his face, before another drag was taken, the ash tapped into an empty glass on the small wooden table in front of him. They were due to bury him today. An empty casket for a missing man.

They say we're buried far…just like a distant star I simply can not hold…

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

What he wouldn't give to just hold him again. To hear his laugh, see how his eyes would light up with fun whenever he was told someone was busy, or simply when he'd get angry. He'd give anything to be with him again.

"Oh jack..." words were muttered before the cigarette was finished and stubbed out.

This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong.
'Cos your not where you belong...in side my arms.

Green eyes welled up, and the picture was thrown beside him. Standing up, the brunette walked back to the bedroom to get dressed. A black suit that hadn't been worn in so very long, was pulled from it's plastic bag. The black dress shoes looked so uncomfortable.

That settles it.

A pair of green converse were pulled on, and a sad smile graced the boy's features. Jack would have found this hilarious. The white shirt was smoothed out over tanned skin, freckles adorning his toned chest, and a black bowtie hung loose around his neck.

I still believe in summer days…the seasons always change, and life will find a way.

Standing up, the boy made one last attempt to straighten himself out, eyes red rimmed and hair still a mess as he just gave up. He still had some tiny part of him that dared to hope, that dared to defy the logical mind and believed each morning the white haired male would be beside him when he woke.

I'll be your harvester of light and send it out tonight, so we can start again.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

As the boy left, his green phone that lay on a wooden table vibrated with a message, the slamming of the door made it impossible to notice the quiet sound.

0o0o0o0o

The service was more difficult to handle than the brunette had thought possible, the empty casket draped with the American flag, that was folded and handed to the shaking boy.

This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong.
'Cos your not where you belong...inside my arms.

Shots were fired, the military funeral for the man who had risked everything, for everyone else, was a tearful ceremony for everyone, and after almost 2 hours, it was over.

It was official.

He wasn't coming back.

This is my winter song to you…

the storm is coming soon…

it rolls in from the sea.

He didn't attend the party, and just went straight home. Back to the apartment that barely held any scent of Jack that tore the brunette's heart again. The flag was held gently as it was laid on the small table beside the door, green eyes flicking to the set of keys that hadn't been there when he left. A small breeze ruffled his hair and his back straightened. Green eyes darted around the apartment to notice that the papers were in a basket in the kitchen, the bottles were gone and someone had opened the window.

My love a beacon in the night…

my words will be your light,

to carry you to me.

Green eyes scrunched as he frowned. He'd asked the house keeping to stop coming in a year ago so why would they start agai-

The brunette froze as he spotted the mass of white just over the sofa, soft humming filled the apartment and green eyes welled up again. Keys hit the floor with a clatter and the mass of hair turned, blue eyes shining with happiness as the two stared at each other

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

"Hiccup..." knees gave way and hit the floor, as the pale man jumped over the back of the couch, cradling the smaller male.

"Jack?" came the weak reply, voice shaking and cracking from the amount of crying he had been doing.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

Cool lips pressed against his forehead and Hiccup closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks yet again.

"But you're dead..." a soft chuckle reverberated through the room and Hiccup clutched at the blue hoodie the other was wearing.

"Well! This is a pretty messy heaven then. Use your head Hic. Did they ever find me?"

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

Green eyes looked to the older male, tears still slipping down his cheeks as he studied Jack.

"Why didn't you contact me? I've spent the past year... they... oh Jack!" Arms were thrown around the other man and lips were pressed firmly against each other. Jack gently picked up Hiccup and carried him through to the bedroom where the winter sun was still upon the pillows. Day turned to night, and Hiccup slept soundly.

Is love alive?

Golden light drifted through partially open curtains, dust dancing lazily in the sunlight that filtered in and onto a freckled face. Brown hair was gently resting on the sleeping boy's face, lips partially open as he slept. Crooked teeth were just about visible between chapped lips and a button nose crinkled slightly as the boy turned, arm reaching out to the other side of the large bed, gripping onto the hand of his white haired soldier.

Is love alive?

He was Finally home.

Is love alive?

Well how did i do?

are you sobbing?

You should be.

I nearly did :')