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I'm dreaming, right?Jack was in the sky, above the world of the Vikings. He was watching a boy and his small green dragon and after everyone had moved away and left the brown haired boy alone Jack started to slowly and lightly step down from the sky. A flower was tenderly held in his grasp and effortlessly he handed it to Hiccup from behind, while greeting him with a soft embrace that contained so much affection and warmth.
Jack had not been able to visit the realm of the Vikings for a long time since the mirrors between their worlds had been closed- thanks to a certain Bunny.
And he missed his little strong Viking boy.
Hiccup must have been dreaming. He closed his eyes and buried himself into the ice-cold embrace of the older teen. Loosing track of time as the moments in their cuddle continued. Not breaking the hug, Jack pulled their faces away enough so he could speak. His voice was as soft as a cloud and as sweet as a butterfly- covered in snow.
“Missed me?” The snowy teen then asked, tuggi
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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