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“So you’ve got your speech all prepared, then?” Elsa asks him, raising a white-blond eyebrow at him. She stands to push in her chair, while Jack nods assuredly, taking her cardigan from the back of the chair and offering it to her.
Elsa turns around, slipping one arm through, allowing him to help her and giving him a full view of her shoulders and back in her smooth, backless dress.
Momentarily distracted by the expanse of bare skin and the beauty of her hair curling, long and full, down her back, he hesitates.
“Of course. When have I ever been unprepared?”
Elsa just gives him a look, like: sure, never, we’ll go along with this idea.
“I’ve got it written down somewhere back at the room.”
Offering her his arm, she takes it, as they wave goodbye to all their friends, sharing one last exchange with the soon-to-be newlyweds at the door.
“Goodnight, Hic— don’t stay out too late–” Jack starts cheekily, only to be cut off.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay— you too.” Hiccup says, smiling.
“Goodnight, see you all tomorrow!” Astrid waves cheerily from the door, arm in arm with Hiccup still.
Jack doesn’t think they’ll have a problem not staying out too late, he’s pretty beat from the travel day as is, but as soon as they’re out in the brisk night air, well. All that seems to dissipate, as he watches Elsa’s face, lit beautifully by the dim lights of Hiccup and Astrid’s wedding venue. And when she asks if he’d like to head into the town square for a drink or two, just to explore, how can he say no to her?
“Where do you think we should go?” she asks, pulling her seatbelt over her chest as he turns the key in their rental car.
“Not sure.” Jack grips the back of her headrest for leverage, checking behind them as he backs out of the small, grassy patch of driveway that precedes the picturesque, wilderness-inspired wedding venue. “I’m not too hungry after all that, though, so definitely drinks…”
“Dessert?” Elsa asks. He doesn’t have to look at her to see her smile, though he very badly wants to. He intentionally keeps his eyes on the road, but he can see her expression in his mind; her light-blue eyes, framed by dark brown eyelashes and beautiful wisps of white blond curls. She doesn’t often curl her hair; only on special occasions, but when she does, he loves it.
“Sounds good to me,” he agrees, and she starts browsing dessert places in the area.
They end up at a small gelato place near some quaint-looking restaurants, and two or three local bars. Despite the fall wind chill, he orders a small pistachio gelato and she orders chocolate. They sit on a bench outside; knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder. She’s leaning into him slightly, sheltering herself from the cold as the ice cream courses through her.
“Cold?” Jack teases, shouldering her.
Elsa stares at him, mouth slightly open with shock, affronted at the mere notion. “What? Of course not.”
“A-huh. Sure.”
“Fine… maybe a little,” she admits, shaking her head, so a little of her hair falls down one shoulder. “But still.”
Jack eats in silence for a moment, staring out into the night, but his eyes keep coming back to her. She looks so breathtaking, all done up for the rehearsal dinner. Her hair is in a bafflingly complicated updo that took her, Astrid, Merida, and Punzie the better part of two hours while he, Hiccup, and Eugene dicked around the town square today. He hadn’t noticed this gelato spot though; it is very good. Elsa is very intently focused on her ice cream; it’s adorable. She’s not so intently focused that she doesn’t get any on her face, however.
Reaching out with his thumb, he rubs a spot on her nose.
“You’ve got a little… right there.”
Blushing, she looks down, but lets him get the ice cream before looking back up at him. “You’re such a sap, Jack,” she tells him.
Jack just laughs, letting his head fall back as he does. “Okay, okay, maybe you got me there. I love you.”
“Jack!”
“Elsa, come on. You’re blushing. You make it too easy.”
She just rolls her eyes at him. It only makes her all the more gorgeous, and enticing. He wants that reaction again; he wracks his brain, trying to figure out what else he can do to get reactions out of her…
“Hm. I guess I’ll allow it,” she takes another bite of her chocolate ice cream.
“Can I have a bite?” he asks, cocking his head, jutting out his lower lip slightly.
“What, did you finish yours already?” she teases, looking around to find the cup at his side, and empty, as she predicted.
“Maybe,” he admits.
“Fine.” She offers him the spoon, and he enjoys it all the more because it’s an indirect kiss, in a way.
“You still want to grab a drink or two?” he asks, licking his lips.
Elsa finishes the last of her ice cream, licking the spoon clean, leaving no drop of chocolate behind. “Sure,” she nods. “Just one though. We do have to get up at nine tomorrow.”
“You have to get up at nine,” he corrects, standing up.
“What makes you think I’m not dragging you up with me?” she smiles, following him.
Jack shrugs. “You’ll have mercy on me?”
“No… I think I’ll make you bring me breakfast tomorrow, when I’m getting ready.”
“Okay… I guess. It’s only fair…”
One drink turns into two, and Jack stops before his third but allows Elsa the luxury of another glass of wine; they’ve been sitting at the bar for a good two hours and good God, is she gorgeous.
The wine has flushed her cheeks and loosened the set of her shoulders, adding to the blush she had applied earlier and the overall relaxation of the evening. More and more strands of her updo have come loose over the hours, following the blond curls she’d left out to frame her face. Elsa is lovely to look at and enthralling to talk to, always, and he is incredibly lucky to be with her. In this light, she looks like an angel, and at some point in the last hour he’s had to pinch himself just to confirm this is real. He’s here with her, has been dating her for the last few years, and plans to do so forever, if she’ll have him.
That’s a thought for another time, though; weddings always make him think about these sorts of things.
“Elsa.”
“Hm?” she asks, turning to him. Her long, sparkling earrings dangle alluringly at the line of her jaw, accentuating the contour there, drawing his eye down to the hollow of her throat and the long lines of her collarbones. The dress covers most everything below that; it is a relatively modest dress now that he considers it, but it’s so soft, smooth, and silky, and the back of it dips so low that nothing else about the dress really matters to him anyway. Only her.
“We should… probably get going now, dontcha think?”
“Why?” she asks, smiling coyly. Oh. She’s teasing him. “You have somewhere to be?”
“Ha,” he says dryly. “Oh, maybe… a wedding in a few hours that we need to be up for, I remember you mentioning something about that?”
Finally, she relents. “Yes, all right. I suppose you’re right.”
He wants to say something more, but doesn’t want to rush her, and lets her finish her wine, watching her throat move as she swallows. Suddenly he feels lightheaded; all the blood in his body pooling elsewhere, only barely finding the sense to stand and move. He could sit there and watch her all day and all night, but they really do have a hotel to get to and a wedding to attend tomorrow. He has a speech to give, he reminds himself.
“Ready to go?”
Elsa looks at him, her eyes heavy-lidded beneath neutral-toned eyeshadow, layers of mascara and false lashes, and he so badly wants to kiss her in this moment but refrains. Barely.
Jack pays for their drinks, and Elsa hands him some cash for the tip, and then they’re back in the rental car, making the twenty-something minute drive back to the hotel.
Elsa rests her hand on his knee while he’s driving, and when he looks over at her, she’s staring straight ahead, her earrings still dangling at her jaw, obviously attempting to be discreet.
Instead of saying anything, he turns his leg slightly, so her hand is more on the inside of his thigh. She moves it further up, and he wants to say something, to tell her to not go any further while he’s driving, but he just can’t make himself do it.
Jack bites his lip, twisting his leg a little in his seat.
“Are you tired?” she asks, as if her hand isn’t inching closer to his dick with every passing moment they are in this dismally slow-moving car.
“No,” he answers immediately, his throat suddenly dry. He licks his lips to moisten them, then swallows. “Not at all.”
“Mm. Me neither.”
They make it to the hotel in a little under twenty minutes, so record time. Elsa doesn’t say anything about his speeding. She even waits in the car for him to open the passenger side door and offer his hand.
“Thank you,” Elsa says, taking it.
“Of course, love,” he replies easily, watching the blood rush to her face with the pet name.
They walk up a small, paved road to the hotel, hand in hand. Her hand is cold, as usual, her fingers small and slender and laced through his.
She trails her fingers up his arm, stopping at the inside of his elbow, as they wait for the elevator. She’s staring up at him, shifting her weight every few seconds.
“Your feet hurt?” he asks her, noting the way she’s resting her forehead against his shoulder, very lightly, careful not to get any makeup on his suit jacket.
“Mm, a little,” she hums, still hiding her face.
The elevator door opens, and they step in.
As the doors close, he expects her to kiss him, like they used to when they were younger, any chance they were alone.
Yet, Elsa just looks at him, staring him up and down in the dim, late-night light of the dawdling elevator.
“What?” he has half a mind to ask, giving her one of his signature smirks.
The doors open all too soon, and she walks out, letting her cardigan slip down over her shoulders, revealing the delicate, lithe muscles of her upper back.
Jack watches the sway of her hips as she walks, letting the cardigan fall even lower. It takes a moment for him to make the move and follow her, and he’s still half-standing in the doorway of the elevator when she looks back over her shoulder, more blond curls spilling out of her updo.
Her blue eyes are alight with life and mischief when she asks, “You coming?”
She just lives to torture him, doesn’t she?
He belatedly remembers that he has the key, watching her stand there at the door. Naturally, he slips behind her to open it, snaking an arm around her waist and planting a kiss on the back of her neck, aching a little inside when she slips away.
“Elsa,” he complains, watching her walk toward the bathroom.
She loses the cardigan almost immediately and throws it casually across the bed, clad only in her backless silk dress that stops just above the curve of her ass, filling his stomach with warmth and making his knees weak where he stands.
“What?” she asks, like she doesn’t know what she’s doing.
Jack follows her into the bathroom, standing idly in the doorway while she stares at herself in the mirror, her arms up and feeling around in her hair.
One of the sleeves slips down her shoulder, and he finds room behind her to drag it back up, not without leaving a kiss there first, another on her neck, her jaw, and her cheek.
She’s giggling, blushing, trying to get him to stop. “Jack– I have to take my makeup off.”
“Do you really have to?” he practically begs, still staring at her in the mirror. She hasn’t taken off her high-heels yet and is just a half an inch to an inch shorter than he is with them on.
“Yes!” she manages through another laugh, as his hands find her waist. He squeezes, gently, and moves downward, one hand on her lower back and the other on the smooth plane of her stomach. “Jack,” she admonishes, with a bit more finality this time. “I really do have to.” Finally, he backs off.
Decidedly put out for the time being, he pushes himself up onto the countertop; if he can’t touch, at least he can watch.
Elsa takes out her hair first. It is a distinctly soothing ritual; she feels in her hair without seeing, and gradually takes out the style, pin by pin. Then, she leaves the bathroom to search through her bag for makeup wipes. He stays put, just watching her; the curve of her spine as she bends to search, the way her hair, now loose and curly and free of its previous confines, spills down her back without end. It’s so long now it reaches halfway down her back, eye-catching and enticing.
Taking off her false eyelashes, she places them calmly back into the container from whence they came, and then begins the removal of the rest of her makeup.
“You could wash your face, too, y’know,” she offers, but he declines, stating his outright contentedness to sit there and watch.
Jack swings his legs a little, stretching them out on the counter and watching them fall back in time, before turning his attention back to her.
Her face bare of makeup, her hair curly and wild, she looks more beautiful than ever. It is becoming increasingly painful not to touch her, in more ways than one.
“Is that all?” he asks, hoping he’s right.
Elsa looks at him. “Maybe,” she shrugs, as if she isn’t actively taking years off his life. It is becoming increasingly uncomfortable for him to sit on this counter motionless, not kissing her, not touching her at all.
She moves to stand in front of him, one hand on his knee, the other on his cheek. He tilts his head, and she moves her hand down, touching the now-growing stubble at his jaw, and then back at the spot just underneath his ear.
“You’re incredible, Jack.” Elsa’s smile could cure any sickness, he’s sure. A train could come crashing through the other wall and he wouldn’t look away.
“Huh?” he asks, before he can stop himself, and Elsa just laughs for a moment, spreading his knees, effectively torturing him. She plants a kiss on his left cheek.
“Can you help me with my dress?”
Jack nods eagerly. Guided by her gentle hands, he unzips the very small zipper at the back of her dress. The straps fall further down her shoulders, and he tugs them down, revealing two nipple pasties and a white lace thong. Before he can make any sudden moves, she turns around, letting the dress fall to the floor. Quickly, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him in by his tie.
“Your turn.”
Her lips are against his before he can even come up with a response to that, one of her hands still on his tie and the other against his back, pressing him even closer.
Jack breaks the kiss only to aid her in loosening his tie and pushing off his suit jacket, unbuttoning his shirt and yanking the old, white undershirt over his head.
Elsa kisses him again, leaning up against the counter and arching her back a little against his hand as he tries to pull her in. Frustrated, still with the distance between them, he lifts under her ass so that she’s straddling him on the counter. He sighs into her mouth, the welcome heat of her on top of him quelling an ache he’s had all day, not having even realized it until tonight.
Briefly, she pulls away, to leave another kiss at his cheek, and then his jaw, biting and sucking until he shoulders her away, with hushed whispers and reminders about the big day tomorrow and the need for a lack of purple bruises on his neck.
Her lips come crashing into his again, licking into his mouth while he tries very earnestly not to grind his hips against hers. She’s making it increasingly difficult, sitting so warm and real and perfect on top of him that it’s nearly impossible for him to stay still.
Jack pushes his hips up to meet hers, and she pulls away, staring back at him, pink-faced and breathless.
“Be patient,” is all she says, and then she’s on him again, this time sucking kisses into his collarbone and upper chest. He pulls at the awfully secure coverings on her nipples, celebrating silently when he finally gets them free and taking one of her perfect breasts in his right hand.
Elsa turns her attention to the right side of his chest, and he pulls his nails down her back, aching so wonderfully when she groans into his neck. Again, she kisses his mouth, and he pulls her ever closer, groaning when she stops him from jerking his hips against hers.
All at once, she pulls away, a hand on his chest and the other on his knee, to support herself.
“Bed?”
That is all the confirmation he needs.
In one swift motion, he stands from the counter, holding her still tightly against him, while her legs are wrapped around his waist and her arms are loosely around his neck. He carries her a short distance to the bed, setting her down gently, not really even making it to the side of the bed before she’s drawing him in and kissing him again.
Jack groans against her mouth as their hips finally meet, as he grinds against her in satisfactory bliss. She slides up, a little away from him, still making him wait, so it would seem. He pulls away to kiss her collarbone, and then her chest, setting to work on leaving a bruise on the underside of her left breast.
She groans, throwing her head back against the pillows, arching her back as he licks and sucks a satiatingly alluring hickey into her skin, pushing her hips down with his other hand. Jack pulls away, his lips wet and swollen, still holding her hips down, only to tell her to wait.
It seems she is equally as tortured by this notion, and in retaliation, pulls his head back down by his hair, forcing him to work on the other side.
After all of this, he finally kisses her on the mouth again, and it seems she’s relenting a little on her resolve to wait, because she’s fully against him now, both hands splayed across his back, dragging her nails down in irresistible pulls that make him groan aloud.
Eventually, she pulls away, leaving him breathless and desperate, supporting his weight on his forearms and gazing dazedly down at her.
“I think… I need you,” she breathes, panting, kissing again into the side of his neck.
“Yeah?” he eggs her on, grinding his hips against hers. “I thought–” Elsa bites, startling him out of his sentence structure, and then sucks over the wound, leaving another loving kiss in her wake. “I thought you wanted to wait…”
She groans into his neck, and he smiles, playing her game.
“No,” she murmurs, as their hips meet and he kisses the underside of her jaw. “Now.”
“Now?”
“Are you sure?” he repeats, cheekily.
Elsa stills the dragging of her nails down his back to smack him on the shoulders. “Yes.”
Grinning, Jack searches in his bag for a condom, and returns to the bed, peeling it open.
Elsa, previously laying back against the pillows, sits, and kneels beside him, trailing a hand down his chest, stopping just above his belt.
He swallows as she unbuckles it, and then unzips his increasingly tight and uncomfortable dress pants, pulling them down until he’s shrugging them the rest of the way off. Delicately, she toys with the waistband of his underwear before slipping a hand underneath, grabbing him firmly in one hand. He inhales sharply, his hips jerking of their own accord, before she relaxes her grip and withdraws her hand.
Staring at him, Elsa looks so lovely, what with her eyes heavy-lidded and her lips kiss swollen and her hair cascading down her back. Jack brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning in to kiss her again. She places a hand on his chest, and looks pointedly down.
“Now,” she repeats, and he obliges.
They roll back to the other side of the bed, and he somewhat-gracefully pulls her underwear down, all while she does the same to him. He captures her lips with his again, now unable to deny all of his impulses, his wants and his needs, as she pushes the condom on without really seeing. He checks that it’s secure of course, with his fingers in the dark, and then she’s guiding him down and in and it’s heaven.
“Elsa.” Her name falls from his lips uninhibited, not that he would ever try to stop it, doesn’t know how they had even gone this long.
She’s dragging her fingers through his hair, down his shoulders and his back, pushing him in deeper as he thrusts into her, desperate to be closer to her.
“More,” she murmurs against his collarbones, as he gives her all he has, taking her cues on rhythm and timing, listening to the hushed swell of her breathing as she clenches her thighs around his waist, waiting for that pause that indicates she’s close–
He’s starting to think he needs to hold back, draw this out, force himself to last, but she forces him to keep going, maintaining their rhythm with one hand on his shoulders and the other on his lower back.
She breaks the kiss to throw her head back, and he watches the spill of her hair across the pillows; that’s all it takes for him to break. He simultaneously listens and watches her release as she comes, and he does at the same time.
Breathing heavily, he pulls out of her with a slick, satisfying sound, laying down beside her, close enough that their shoulders, arms, hips, and legs are pressed together.
Elsa pushes herself up on an elbow. Her hair is messy, curling with reckless abandon around her face. She’s never looked so breathtaking and stunningly gorgeous as she does in this moment. His eyes are drawn to her collarbones, and her breasts, and then immediately back up to her face; more specifically her eyes, as she speaks.
“I love you.”
Jack can’t resist a little snark, and props himself up to join her.
“You know, for a second there, I wasn’t quite sure–”
Elsa hits him across the chest, laughing. “Yeah, right.”
Laying back down, he stretches his arm out across the pillow, allowing her to more easily settle in beside him.
“I love you, too,” he adds. He knows that she knows that, but he would never leave her hanging like that. Ever.
She turns her head to kiss his cheek, and then rests her head on his chest, just above his heart. He squirms for a minute, trying to figure out how to get the blankets that are currently underneath them to be on top of them without moving. Elsa’s solution is to try digging them out with her toes, which does not work very well. So Jack is forced to pull the sheets out from one side of the bed, and congregate the two of them to the other, wrapping them up in a small cocoon of sorts.
Elsa sighs gratefully, tucking her face again into his chest.
“That was good,” she says, nodding to herself.
“Hm. I couldn’t tell.”
“Are you really this incapable of being serious?” Her words may seem exasperated, but she’s amused; he can tell.
“I don’t know… I think the jury’s still out…” Jack laughs at his own joke, then kisses the top of her head, pulling her closer, and agreeing. “No, it was good. I–” he is interrupted briefly by a yawn, and realizes he has not the faintest clue what time it is. “I love you.”
She does not seem too concerned with the time, so he does not ask. “I love you, too.”
Satisfied with this, finding no need to talk any longer, they lay there in contented silence, basking in the after-glow. Jack is incredibly relaxed, with her breath ghosting over his collarbone and her fingers tracing hearts and stars over his chest. So relaxed, in fact, he feels himself starting to lose a battle against consciousness, one he wasn’t even aware he was fighting. It doesn’t seem worth fighting, and he slips into a light doze, until she’s shaking his arm, forcing him to open his eyes.
“Jack.”
He blinks.
“You’re falling asleep.”
“No’m not.” He definitely had been. It has to be decently late by now, though, and they have a wedding to go to tomorrow– Hiccup and Astrid’s wedding. He has a best man’s speech to give.
“Go brush your teeth,” Elsa interrupts his disorganized train of thought, extracting herself from his embrace. He rolls to follow her, but she doesn’t let up, guiding his arms away from her waist.
“Gimme a sec,” he replies, rolling again to his back, pulling the blankets higher over his chest.
“No,” she says, standing up. “I’ll turn the light on.”
With that threat in mind, he pushes himself into a sitting position, and follows her into the bathroom, still completely naked. Yeah, he probably does have to clean up, and brush his teeth, and wash his face…
All this in mind, he goes through his routine beside her in the bathroom, keeping an arm around her waist while they brush their teeth, breaking between teeth-brushing and face-washing to leave minty-fresh kisses on her cheek and jaw.
Elsa leaves the bathroom and returns with clean underwear and pajamas. They dress quietly- tired, satiated, and content all at once. Jack is also all kinds of excited and nervous for tomorrow, wondering if Elsa has the same thoughts as he does when it comes to these sorts of things.
Idly, as they properly pull back the sheets and return to the luxurious, king-sized hotel bed, he wonders which of their friends are next in line to get married, and when it will be the right time for the two of them. Elsa is still finishing her Master’s degree, and is already thinking about doctoral programs, but still. Somewhere in between then and now…
Jack pulls her against him, and though there’s an entire seventy-six inch wide bed for them to share, they still end up pressed in one corner anyway, something he’s sure he’ll hear about tomorrow morning.
He leaves one last kiss on the back of her neck, pulling her against him, enjoying the warmth of their bodies pressed together and the soft feel of her cotton pajamas against his bare chest.
“I love you, Elsa.”
“I love you too,” she replies, snuggling deeper into the pillow. She exhales a sigh, probably automatically.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Slowly, Elsa interlaces their fingers, and rests them gently close to her heart, and that’s the last thing Jack is aware of before falling into blissful sleep.