Hi!! Supongo que la mayoría en tumblr se pregunta ¡¿Quién habla español,plz!? ;-;!! Yo hablo xDD, y un poquito inglés -3-! Bien, con respecto al ask box, lo abriré dentro de poquito, podrán preguntar por Bryan (contraparte masculina) o por Rocío (Yop °3°) Con gusto responderemos a ustedes, y esperamos que disfruten (Nota: Sentimos si cuando abrimos el ask box, hay equivocaciones con el inglés... tenemos mucho inglés, pero no el suficiente ^^U)
Jack was waiting outside the bathroom with his arms crossed. There were some scuffling noises, and Hiccup’s voice cursing under his breath.
“Okay! Okay I think… okay, here it comes.”
The older boy shook his head and chuckled. Hiccup had some kind of surprise for him, but wouldn’t say what it was, and was taking forever to get on with it.
When the door opened and the freckled boy stumbled out, Jack’s expression went wide and blank.
Hiccup cleared his throat, leaning awkwardly on the doorframe before changing his mind and just kind of standing there with his arms slightly out, face red but determined. “So um. You said ah, you said you sort of had a thing for, for this kind of… so,” the boy did a quick, lazy jazz-hands, “Tadaa?”
The outfit saw to an impressive amount of details. There was a frilly black and white choker around his little neck, a lopsided ribbon on his calf, even a lacey headband over his auburn locks. His gangly, ankle-wobbly stance made it pretty obvious this was his first try at heels, which were black as the stockings running all the way up to his thighs, one rising higher than the other, both frilled with white at the ends. And those ends could be seen at all because the dress on Hiccup’s person was so damn short and poofy, it barely went past his hips!
White petticoat lace could be seen under the black of his skirt, and a sewed-on apron went all the way up to a relatively high collar, frilled of course around the edges. The boy tried to straighten a kind of twisted up end to one of his puffy black sleeves, clinging just past his shoulder.
“So ah,” Hiccup managed to take a step towards Jack, arms out and knees in and looking about as ungraceful as humanly possible. “It’s a little…” he pulled at the chest area, which was kind of baggy. “But, but it mostly… okay I can’t tell what that look means, just, please tell me I didn’t do this for nothing…”
Jack hadn’t made a sound or moved an inch since his boyfriend emerged in a goddamn maid outfit. He finally started to shake his head a little, and a wide, evil grin grew on his lips.
“Please,” he said, “please tell me there are silk panties under that.”
The dolled-up boy crossed his arms. “Well here’s an idea, how about you find out instead of standing there like a—?”
He was interrupted by Jack more or less slamming him into the wall. Playful nips were given just above the choker, and Jack’s hands dug under the skirt to grope at what was indeed a silk-clad ass.
It was a strange task to be given, to teach a 16 year old boy basically.. Everything. What each object was, how it was used. But not only that, there became the issue of personal space.
The boy who’d been raised by wolves was a very affectionate fellow, and showed his affection different ways.With Jack’s parents, it was usually just wrapping his arms around them in a hug and nuzzling his face against their cheeks or something. But, it became much different between the two teenage boys.
March Madness (1 + 2 = High School + College) Jack is a dork and stop holding Hiccup near you! His fangirls (and yours) are getting jealous!
Jack started holding hands with Hiccup a few months (yes, months) after their initial confession. Once he was given the green light, he’s taken to just holding Hiccup’s hand everywhere the green eyes boy goes. So from home to school to classes and cafes, that’s where you’ll find them.
Then come college and puberty, Hiccup turns to this hot guy that Jack refuses to let go into the screaming mass of fangirls. (Not really, but what the heck, why not?)
It can take only a bad word to ruins someone’s day.
It had started off fine enough; I had woken up, picked out my nicest outfit, bothered the dog and then Jack had come round to pick me up. I had been looking forward to this date for so long now; the idea that my…
the most important part of highschool for me was marching band, so, marching band au Jack the hella gay junior on Color Guard flirting with the dorky freshman woodwind player Haiden many inappropriate band jokes were had
Hiccup glared so hard at the wall he went a little cross-eyed.
“Sir,” the young man grit out, fighting to keep from dumping his bucket of blue paint onto his client’s head. “I’m a professional. Please, just let me do my job.”
His client, some young know-it-all douche who decided to redo his flat in royal blue, wouldn’t step making suggestions from below the ladder. And Hiccup was so used to people doubting him, his dad, his cousin, his peers for as long as he could remember, always trying to tell him how to live his life…
He did not like other people trying to boss him around. Especially when it involved stuff he knew way better anyone else.
“Are you sure, ‘cause, I mean, a little higher would probably be—”
Hiccup whipped his head around.
“Could you not…”
His client’s blue eyes weren’t fast enough. They lingered, only turning away suddenly a few seconds after the interior painter looked back.
And they were honed in right at the backside of Hiccup’s old jeans. Those things didn’t fit that great, they clung a little too tight in the seat area…
Oh. Well then.
Hiccup’s frustration dissipated into a blank look. And suddenly the job was feeling a whole lot awkwarder.
“Do you… mind??” he finally asked, just a bit shrill.
The client (Jack, was it?) just started nodding and moseying his way towards the bedroom, looking kind of sheepish to have been caught. “Yeah, ha, no I’ll just, I’ll be in here. Call me. When you’re done, I mean, yes… yeah, call me.”
Hiccup slowly turned back to the half-painted wall, and resumed his work with a miffed chuckle. “Holy shit,” he muttered under his breath, actually a little tickled by his client’s attention. Plus, attractive didn’t hurt things at all… “You know what, I might call you…”
“My number’s on the receipt!” called Jack suddenly, head poked out of the bedroom door.
The painter almost fell off his ladder, and his startled movement splattered blue clean across the spreading red of his cheeks.