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sakon76Hierogamy, part 2: Like Cupid and Psyche
by K. Stonham
first released 25th January 2013
The boy came to North flushed an odd purple color. North supposed it came of the frozen blood in his veins; Jack Frost could not, and did not, blush the pink that a living human might. But the young Guardian's embarrassment was obvious as he hemmed and hawed, poked at the newest toy models, and danced around whatever it was that so obviously was on his mind.
North sat back and watched in amusement. He waited patiently. He could afford to enjoy this rare awkwardness from the usually self-confident winter spirit. He had the time. It was only January, after all; the Pole's annual production rush would not pick up until at least March.
Finally Jack circled around to what he had come seeking advice about. He threaded pale fingers through the even paler hair on the back of his head, and, looking nowhere near North, asked, "So, um, is it allowed for spirits to... interact with humans?"
Oh, so that was what had the boy nervous! North reined in his laughter before it bubbled and chortled out of him. "Of course it is!" he said instead. "Bringing joy to children is what we do!"
"But... but what about adults?" Jack was biting his lower lip.
"Adults... they do not see us." North waved a hand in dismissal. It was perhaps cruel of him, and bit of a lie to boot, but he wanted to pry the full story out of Jack.
"But what if one did?"
North raised an eyebrow. "Something you wish to tell me, Jack?"
"Not really," the boy muttered. North waited. Jack swallowed and looked away again. "It's... I was visiting Jamie. And I know he can't see me, okay! But just because he stopped believing doesn't mean that I stopped caring."
North nodded, wanting to see where this story went.
"His dorm window was open, so I snuck in, but... he was sick, North! Really sick. He was burning up so bad he started hallucinating. And..." Jack swallowed again, harder than before. "He could see me again, North. He believed! I could touch him."
Startled, North straightened. "Jamie could...?"
Jack nodded, and his eyes were very wide and very blue and very nearly shining with tears.
"Hmm." North leaned back. "So what happened then?"
"I..." Jack bit his lip, looked away, looked back. "I climbed into bed with him. I'm cold; I thought it might help break his fever. Jamie... just kind of cuddled up to me. Like I was his own personal heater. Cooler. Whatever."
"Mmm-hmm." North went in for the kill. "And then?"
Jack looked very small all of a sudden. "We... might've...." His voice trailed off into nothing, a muteness as expressive as Sandy's. Though that was not fair; the Sandman had an excellent poker face. Jack's was, frankly, lousy.
"You had relations," North said.
"Yes. I mean, no!"
North raised an eyebrow again. "Yes, no, which is it, Jack?"
Jack looked away. "...Yes," he admitted.
"Ha!" North slapped his knee, delighted that his guess was correct.
Jack stared at him.
"So, did your plan work?" North asked the boy, smiling. "Did the fever break?"
"Yeah, he was sleeping when I left." Jack's expression faltered. "North, what do I do? I mean, what if he can't see me again?" Jack swallowed. "What if he can?" he whispered.
North stroked his beard. "If he cannot see you again, well, at least you had that much with him, no?" he asked, and Jack nodded, though it was obvious it wasn't the answer he wanted. "You care, Jack. And, fever or no, I do not think Jamie Bennett would allow such liberties if he did not care too."
"And if he can?"
"Then, you have options, Jack."
"You mean... it's not, it's not forbidden or something?" Jack's face was practically a study in hope.
"Bah! You need to study more history, Jack! Spirits, humans, we have been marrying, making love for long time. Is not so common as it used to be, but... never forbidden."
"Not even for Guardians?"
North shook his head, smiling. "Not even for Guardians. You would not think so to look, but Sandy, he is quite the ladies' man! Tooth has had many lovers. And Bunny, well..." His smile turned sly. "Spring, they say, is about hope, and new beginnings, yes? But is also time of rejuvenating life, and old, old fertility rites."
It took a minute, but he saw his meaning sink in; Jack flinched. "Oh, God, bad mental images," Jack groaned. "Brain bleach... I need brain bleach."
"Has been a long time for Bunny," North allowed. "I think, though, he is yielding to nature. I see him looking at possible new priestess, if she continues to believe for a few more years."
"A new..." Jack blanched. "Tell me you don't mean who I think you mean."
North shrugged.
"She's thirteen!"
"She will not always be so. Bennett family will be particularly blessed, if works out. Daughter, priestess of spring. Son..." North's gaze remained on Jack. "Son, consort of winter."
Jack's mouth worked silently for a moment. His eyes were wide and unseeing. It was like, North thought, no one was at home. Then the boy shuddered, shedding whatever thoughts had locked him up.
"So," North prompted, "Jamie?"
Jack looked away for a moment. His expression seemed torn. "It's okay?" he asked softly. "That we're both guys?"
North sighed, a little sad. Unlike himself, Jack, he knew, had been brought up in a civilized household. And that civilized household had no doubt been ruled by the precepts of its time, which had not been so kind to same-gender relations as the modern era. "Love is love, Jack. This outside," North said, waving at his own body, "does not matter so much as the spirit within. If you love, and he loves... bah, to this notion of sin! Ask Sandy; he is older than rest of us put together. Or ask Manny, if you want broader view than that of Earth."
Jack thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "So, what do I do?" Jack asked again.
"What do you do? Is simple, Jack! You track down boy, see if he sees you, then go from there. Lovers, friends, is all good!"
Jack's expression was unreadable. "His friends, his family, his classmates... they're all going to think he's crazy, talking to thin air. I can't do that to him, North!"
"Jack." North stood, placed a hand on each of Jack's shoulders, leaned in close enough to catch the smell of winter. "What people around him will see is that Jamie is maybe a little odd. He will laugh at nothing. He will dance with snowflakes. And he will be radiantly happy."
"North...."
"He will be winter's lover. Your lover! Nothing is more powerful than love and protection of spirit. Those who try to speak against him will find themselves ignored. Those who attempt to sabotage him, will themselves be undermined. And those who wish him well..." North remembered his own experiences. "Those who wish him well, they may even see you."
Jack looked at North, really looked at him. "Why isn't there a Mrs. Claus?" he asked slowly.
North smiled enigmatically. "Why do you think there is not?"
Jamie woke from the best sleep he'd had since he was a kid. He was still stiff and aching, that after-sickness feel, but his mind was clear and his mouth, oddly, tasted like mint.
David must have come back some time while he was unconscious; Jamie's roommate was fast asleep in his own bed. Looking at the clock, Jamie couldn't blame him; it was only six in the morning, a whole hour before their alarm went off. Dim daylight crept around the edges of the curtain; the room was warm, so David must have shut the window when he came back.
But, oh, the cold had felt so good....
Jamie reached for the glass of water just beyond the head of his bed. It was all wet with condensation. When he picked it up, ice softly thunked inside. It took a minute to focus, but....
Jamie's eyes widened. It looked like the cup's contents had frozen solid at some point during the night, and only slowly been melting since. There was still a wide ice core floating inside. Thirsty, Jamie drank what he could, then put the glass back. He wanted a shower, to wash off the sense of sick ickiness, and then he wanted to change his bedsheets. He sat up.
His breath caught.
What. The. Hell?
Sleeping naked was one thing; his ass feeling like he'd gotten laid was something else entirely. Gingerly, he touched himself, as if to check.
His own touch prompted a memory of the feeling of cool fingers, slick with hand lotion. He remembered blue eyes, luminous in the dark. He remembered something larger than fingers, more solid, pressing inside him, blessedly cold.
Cold lips on his, a deliciously cold body pressed against him, a familiar voice breaking as the spirit whispered, "Oh, God, Jamie--"
He couldn't do this in his dorm room. He couldn't think about Jack here and now; he'd hyperventilate and he'd wake David and his roomie would think Jamie had finally gone absolutely nuts.
Jamie wasn't entirely sure he hadn't.
Jamie found his robe, grabbed some clean clothes and his toiletries basket, and fled to the showers. They, at least, would be empty at this hour.
He could break down there.
The shower water steamed in the air as he washed his hair, his face, his body. He was careful when cleaning his ass, because he didn't want to think about it. Jamie Bennett had stopped believing in fairy tales four years ago. He'd grown up. He'd stopped dreaming.
Without thinking about it, he turned the shower to cold. The icy water had the opposite effect of what it was supposed to.
Looking at his renewed erection, Jamie thought it might be possible that he'd developed a fetish.
This is all Jack's fault, he thought, and shut off the water.
All that day, all Jamie could think about were kisses like snowflakes. His class notes were absolute shit.
And when he was in the quad, or between classes, or staring out his window, doodling in his notebook instead of working, all he could think about was someone that he knew couldn't exist.
(His heart said different.)
"If I was a one-night stand, Jack," Jamie murmured, "you are in so much trouble."
That Saturday, the whole campus woke to a night-delivered layer of fresh snow, white and fluffy and just right for packing into snowballs. Jamie valiantly resisted until after breakfast, then he flung himself into play with a whoop, joining the battle in the quad. His eyes kept tracking, though, looking for something (someone) that wasn't there.
Until Jamie turned, and he was.
Jack Frost stood near the edge of the snowy mound, leaning on his staff, a fond look on his face as he watched the college students play with what he'd given them. No one else seemed to see him. He even skipped nimbly out of the way when a student threatened to run into (through) him.
Jamie's mouth was dry. He didn't know what to do, to say.
...There was a snowball still in his hand.
And, okay, maybe he'd hung out with Jack for way too many years, because as soon as he thought it, Jamie couldn't resist.
The snowball nailed Jack solidly on the side of the head.
The winter spirit was actually knocked to the ground, which Jamie hadn't been expecting. Jack picked himself up quickly, though, shaking the snow off, and stared at Jamie, who was staring at him.
A slow smirk curled on Jack's face. A wave of his staff produced a new flurry of white, coming down thickly from the sky, and in its disguising veil, Jack flew over to Jamie and took his hand, pulling him toward the dorm building.
Well, that was one question answered. Jamie could most definitely see Jack still. Again. Whichever. And the twenty-year-old's hand was solid in his, all the way across the quad, into the building, up the three flights of stairs, and into the (thankfully empty) dorm room. Jack only let go to allow him to shed coat, hat, and scarf. Jamie stared at him for a moment longer, then toed off his shoes as well and sat on his neatly-made bed, legs crossing under himself to tuck his toes into the corners of his bent knees. It was an old, familiar position to see him in.
Feeling unexpectedly hesitant, Jack leaned his staff against the wall, then sat next to Jamie.
Jamie bit his lip, brown eyes still staring wide and believing at Jack, then said, "So, you're real."
Jack nodded. "I am."
"And... the other night?"
Jack examined the cheap carpet. He didn't know what to say. Didn't know what Jamie wanted. "Whatever you want it to be."
Jamie drew in a long breath, then let it out, shuddering slightly. "I hurt you, didn't I? Stopping believing...."
Jack shrugged, not looking up to meet Jamie's eyes. He didn't want Jamie to see just how much it had hurt. It wasn't like it had been deliberate, anyway. Jamie didn't need the guilt. "I'm used to it."
"That doesn't mean it's right." Jamie hesitated, then placed his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Jack, I...." His voice dropped away. "Oh, fuck it," Jamie swore, and suddenly his mouth was on Jack's.
Jack's eyes went wide and stared into Jamie's determined ones. Then Jamie's eyes closed. Gentle pressure bore Jack down. It was like sinking into a snowdrift. Jack ended up on Jamie's bed, Jamie atop him.
Jack was feeling fairly melted by the time Jamie pulled away.
Jamie grinned at him. "So is that an icicle in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" he quipped.
Jack did not-- he was not-- Oh, hell, he was.
Glowering, he grabbed Jamie's pillow from under his head and whapped the college boy with it.
Jamie didn't stop grinning. "So," he summed up, "I'm sorry for being an insensitive jerk and stopping believing in you. You're sorry for taking advantage of me in my compromised state. Anything else we need to cover?"
Jack considered their situation. "No, that's about it."
"Good. Wanna fuck?"
Jack felt caught between horrified and delighted. "You have a filthy mouth, Jamie Bennett."
Jamie smiled. "Want to see what I can do with it?"
Jack smirked. "I could be convinced."
"Good. Stay there." Jamie pushed off the bed, rummaged through a dresser drawer, opened the door, tied a bandanna around the knob, and shut the door again.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
Jamie blushed a little. "Signal David and I agreed on," he muttered, and came back to the bed. Jack sat back up as Jamie sat back down. "So," he said, and now it was his eyes not meeting Jack's, "do you bottom too, or just top?"
Jack had been around enough to figure out what Jamie meant. "Don't know," he said, shrugging. "Want to find out?"
Oddly, that made Jamie stop. Brown eyes looked at him seriously. "Um... Jack, am I your first?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "When I was alive, I was what you people call a Puritan. We didn't really go in for this whole licentiousness thing," he said, giving a nebulous wave of his hand. "And since then, I haven't exactly been visible, let alone tangible, to a lot of people above the age of consent."
"But... I mean, you never hooked up with another spirit or anything?"
"Spirits don't tend to 'hook up' with each other. Mostly, I think, because if it goes sour, we keep running into one another for a long time afterward, which sucks."
"Um." Jamie's eyes were wide. He looked down at his hands in his lap. "You weren't my first," he confessed.
Jack snorted. "I kind of figured."
"I... kind of wish you had been." Jamie looked back up. "But I was stupid, and I forgot, and hormones, and college, and being away from home--"
"Hey, whoa," Jack stopped him. "I don't mind that I wasn't your first, Jamie. I mean, imagine if I had been! Two virgins, no clue."
"There is this thing," Jamie drawled, "called the Internet...."
"I'm serious, Jamie." Jack took a deep breath. "I'm glad you figured this out with other people. Now," he asked, "I do have to know, though... are you going out with anyone? Got anything serious going on?"
Jamie shook his head. "Not for a while. And, I wasn't stupid. I always used protection. Except for the other night."
Jack rolled his eyes. "You kind of weren't in your right mind."
Jamie paused for too long. "I don't think it was that," he said finally. "I think... it was because it was you. And if I wanted the real thing with anyone...."
It felt like a kick in the chest. Jack had to consciously remember to breathe. He reached out slowly, laced his fingers with Jamie's. "J?" he asked. Brown eyes met his. "How serious do you want this to be?"
It was a minute before Jamie answered. "I think I want everything, Jack." His voice was soft. "I've been with other guys, and some girls - I'm bi, did you know? - and none of them felt right. You do."
"But will you still want me twenty years from now?" Jack had to ask. "Don't you want someone the rest of the world can see? Someone you can marry and have kids with and, I don't know, introduce around at parties or something?"
Jamie gave it thought, then shook his head. "I want you."
Very slowly, Jack leaned in. Pressed his lips against warm, moist ones. Breathed in the musk-detergent-sweat scent of Jamie. Delved his tongue into the hot, wet mouth beyond those lips. Jamie tasted of bacon, and maple syrup. Never once did Jack look away.
His breath frosted in the air at the end of the kiss. So did Jamie's. "I'll always give you the option to walk away," Jack murmured to his lover. "But if you want me... God, Jamie, I want you."
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Date: 2013-01-25 07:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-25 08:57 pm (UTC)