Biology

Chapter 19

Before he had transferred schools, Jack had loved weekends. They had been a welcome respite from school, where he was picked on and tormented mercilessly. Now, though, he found that they were his least favourite part of the week—because every Friday afternoon he had to say goodbye to Hiccup and trudge home to spend two entire days without even so much as a glimpse of the other boy.

Friday nights themselves weren't usually so bad, though, it was Saturday and Sunday that sucked. This week especially, Jack was content to just go to his room when he got home, work on homework, and think over the events of the day. Because after what had happened at lunch time in the library... well.

Seated at his desk, Jack was trying to concentrate on a math problem, but his mind kept drifting: he had let Hiccup touch him. Not the way he normally did, either. Not just drifting hands to his back, his sides, his hips. No, he had let Hiccup actually touch him—get him off—and more than that, he had asked him to do it.

Jack's face heated at the thought and he lifted a hand to scrub the back of it against one red cheek, willing the colour to fade. His other hand clenched a little, fingers tightening around the pen he was holding.

Not that he regretted it or anything. He had no reason to: Hiccup had been good about it, gentle and accommodating, though he had definitely let his words wander, whispering the most positively wicked things the entire time. And it wasn't like the other boy had put any pressure on him. In the end Hiccup himself had even walked away completely unfulfilled.

Swallowing a little, Jack tried to focus his eyes on the papers in front of him with little success.

Just thinking about it...

Uttering a soft groan, he let his head fall down until his forehead thumped against his notebook and squirmed as he willed his body to stop being stupid and calm the hell down. Jack was severely unused to being so bothered over another person. It was really embarrassing.

At least there was no one else around to see him finally cave in and give up on homework in favour of other pastimes.

The next day being Saturday, he didn't have to get up early and ended up rolling out of bed around ten in the morning. After taking his time getting ready and dressed for the day, he then wandered downstairs for breakfast—at which point he found North sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. The paper was quickly discarded when Jack came into the room, and his father watched him cross to the fridge and pull out the milk before clearing his throat.

"Jack," He began, and Jack hesitated as he was digging out the cereal because his tone was unusually serious. "I would like to talk to you."

Jack finished pouring his cereal, retrieved a spoon, and moved over to take a seat across the table from his father. He pushed the spoon into his breakfast, stirring it nervously. "Uh... okay. About... what?"

"Well first of all," North waved a hand slightly, "it's been nearly a month now, and I'm happy with how you've been behaving. So you're no longer grounded."

Blue eyes blinked and Jack's eyebrows rose. "Oh. Good. Um, thanks."

His father nodded, then pursed his lips a little. It was obvious he was thinking about how to proceed with the rest of what he wanted to say, which meant it was probably something serious. Jack poked at his cereal again before taking a tentative bite.

"So, you're gay then, are you?"

The teen nearly spewed his breakfast all over the dining room table. Instead he made a strangled noise and just barely managed to choke it down, then lifted a hand to his throat and swallowed a few more times. His other hand, holding the spoon, shifted a little, the metal clinking against the edge of the ceramic bowl.