#jacksandy week

[the-dads]

slides in on the last day of jacksandy week ;;;;;;;

just some cuties ready for summer 

[8ot]

DAY 7: free day

[wendyalice-archive]

Stars in the sky and in your eyes

(This is a little shorter than the one last time, but this is what came to mind. For the second day of JackSandy week, all to do with star-gazing~!)

It’s a different feeling to watch the stars from Earth. It’s strange to think of his life from before, a life of jumping from shooting star to shooting star or leaving a blazing tail across the sky as he dreamed on. While dreams felt more tangible to him, that past life felt more like the dream, leaving him wondering if they truly existed at all. He’s not sure if he misses it completely, but when he looks up at the night sky, sees a dark patch where a star should be, he understands he longs for his time as a pilot. Here though, in snowy Burgess, under the night sky, holding Jack’s hand as dreamtrails light up the frozen pond, he doesn’t feel that same longing. Jack points out constellations, real and make-believe, and tells him of beautiful stories of the stars Sandy’s heard in the dreams of dreamers over the years. He loves the way Jack tells them, though, so full of that bright light he saw in him all those years ago. Jack tells Sandy of things Jamie has told him, a young man in his own right by this time, and Sandy only corrects him sometimes, if only because Human science is good but still so young. Jack never lets go of his hand and with his crook resting in his lap as he points to more stars, Sandy’s own free hand starts moving. It’s lovely the way Jack goes soft and quiet when Sandy’s fingers find his jaw, turning his face towards him. Jack’s eyes are a brilliant blue and so deep, holding snowflakes and loneliness and age, but in this moment only holding twinkling affection. Sandy smiles and tilts his head as Jack leans his own down. Oh yes, he thinks, Jack’s eyes are the best kind of stars after all. They kiss and it’s warm and cold, brilliant and calm, soft and fantastic, and Sandy feels like he’s flying amongst the stars again.

[wendyalice-archive]

Let me taste those chocolate lips

(IT’S JACKSANDY WEEK!!!! So here’s to the first entry for the first day~! Cause their kissing on Sandy’s island, and they do this on the beach, and they share ice cream. There, perfectly used the themes for this. XD)

Jack has certainly smuggled a number of things in his life. He smuggled a thing of snowballs to Jamie once during a snowball fight he and Monty had versus some bigger kids from the middle school. Jack found that while he can’t get into too much ruckus with children, protection of them and all, he can’t not help even the score sometimes when he can. He has also smuggled Rudolph, who actually exists and talks and Jack is still not sure how it works but he has a talking, glowing nose reindeer friend so he doesn’t care, some extra carrots from the kitchen. Plus maybe a whole plate of meat pies because he likes them and because whole plates of meat pies left unattended are just begging to be eaten. So as he flies over a sapphire blue ocean with a carton of ice cream under his hoodie, one hand holding on to it as the other grips his crook, he just laughs happily at the imagined vision of Sandy smiling once he sees. Once he gets there, Sandy doesn’t disappoint at all. Jack’s trying to open the thing while he tells Sandy how he got the thing. Sandy makes a star appear above his head before Jack even started and Jack shakes his head, telling him that Jamie’s family had just finished off their ice cream and his mom had cookies for them instead. It had actually been Cupcake. She had flagged Jack down and had been holding it up to him as his feet touched the ground. She mentioned that her Dad had been buying groceries that day and forgot to look at the label, not realizing that the chocolate ice cream with actual pecans in it were probably not good for his daughter with the nut allergy. As she continued on with the story, telling Jack about her Uncle really balled out her Dad about it, he looked down at the carton in wonder before he wrapped his free arm around her. As much as Cupcake was the toughest kid in Jamie’s whole town, she still leaned into the hug and patted his back. Sandy made a few symbols over his head, one looking like an ice cream cone, the other looked like two hands reach for each other, along with a snowflake and pillow followed by a question mark. He squints at the hands and tilts his head, “Is that the symbol for share?” Sandy nodded “Oh, then yeah Sandy.” Jack says, smiling, “What? Did you think I wouldn’t share my treat with you?” Jack has another word on his tongue, something he’s heard over the years but something he’s too nervous to say out loud. Sandy looks at him, eyes sparkling with something kind but something that feels like it’s only for him, and Jack wonders if Sandy has the same word on his lips. Sandy goes to get silverware, coming back with two spoons made of shells, at which Jack suspect they were a gift from those lovely mermaids that are suspiciously absent, and Sandy lets Jack take the first scoop. Jack tries not to be greedy, even though his mouth is watering already and he licks at his lips once the lid pops off. It’s still nice and cold, but soft enough that there’s no resistance as he takes his first spoonful. He brings it quickly to his mouth and it’s like an explosion in his mouth. Food in the 21st century is so different, so good, so full and vibrant of flavor and spices and techniques to bring the fullness of the food that he loves to appreciate. As the smooth, heavy taste of the chocolate fills his mouth, the sweetness and richness leaving him in euphoria, he closes his eyes and makes a sound of complete bliss. His eyes fly open and he brings a hand over his mouth, staring at Sandy whose smiling wickedly at him. Jack hears the crackling of ice forming as he groans in embarrassment, his cheeks feeling tight from the frost growing there. Sandy throws his spoon behind him, Jack watching be buried halfway in the sand,  and be possibly lost if a strong wind comes to finish the job, and watches Sandy take Jack’s spoon. Blues eyes follow the movement as Sandy scoop up his own spoonful and brings it to his lips, slowly licking it clean. Jack swallows thickly and hears even more crackling. Sandy closes his eyes at some point and little, golden suns pop around his head, spinning as his smile grows wider and Sandy floats off the ground. Jack chuckles and takes a hold of Sandy’s hand, guiding him gently back to earth as the little man opens those big, golden eyes of his. Jack stares into them, blue matching gold, and finds himself leaning in closer. Sandy does the same. Slowly, ever so slowly, Sandy moves that hand holding the spoon. He scoops up another taste, bringing it back up and Jack’s hand reaches out to take it. Sandy’s hand stops it, curling his tiny fingers around Jack’s as he shakes his head. Jack’s brows furrow before he watches the spoon move closer before he understands. He feels more frost grow, right on to his ears even, and looks to the spoon and back to Sandy, smiling. He opens his mouth, tries to resist the urge but eventually says “ahhh~!” Sandy’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he rolls his eyes. He lets the spoon touch Jack’s lower lip and Jack wraps his lips around, dragging his lips across the spoon. Jack savors the taste, never looking away from Sandy as the other stares at his lips. Once he’s finished, he tilts his head and leans in to kiss him. Their lips meet, Sandy’s nice and soft and warm, and Sandy needs no prompting to open his mouth. Jack smiles against the other’s lips before opening his own, slipping not only tongue, but the little piece of pecan into his mouth. Sandy is warm and tastes like chocolate and this is probably the best kiss he’s ever had in all his three-hundred and seventeen years. And it’s his own fault for breaking it off once he hears giggling. Jack straightens his back as he feels the frost grow back as he looks toward the shore, watching waving wails and webbed fingers and looks to see the lovely ladies attached to them. Eyes that have seen more treasure than Jack has ever known and more rare creatures that lurk down, in the darkest depths of the ocean, stare at the two lovers glitteringly. Some begin cooing, perfect lips forming perfect pouts that no creature with a heart could resist, as others giggle like sea bubbles as he makes out the pearly color of their teeth. He groans miserably at them and they flutter their eyelashes, as though they have nothing to apologize for. Jack turns to Sandy for guidance but the little man is glowing happily and chewing on the pecan like the two lovers don’t currently have an audience. Jack eyes Sandy, and then Sandy’s lips, and then turns his head to the ever attentive mermaid group, and gives a very, very long sigh, “Come on,” Jack says, picking up the container, “We might as well share.” Jack and Sandy continued using the shared spoon as the girls used their fingers to scoop up chocolate goodness, some chewing happily at their nuts that their fins moved frantically. Jack was alright with the girls coming though, because ice cream is definitely one of those things that was more to share with others. Besides.....with the look Sandy gave him as they finished the container, and even the more intense look as Jack licked at his fingers, he’s sure he’ll get some more dessert the minute Sandy and he are alone.

[8ot]

DAY 1: BEACH/SUMMER jack may have stolen the ice cream but ykno

[kind-of-heart]

I'm comin' home...

For those of you in suspence for the second of my JackSandy Week posts, here it is! I'll reblog the first one if anyone wants to reread it heh.

Day 7 Prompt: Home Visits

From the moment that Sanderson had gained consciousness on Earth, he had instinctively known that his job had changed only ever so slightly. Instead of answering the calls of dreams that reached out to him, there was a pull on his center that beckoned and pulled him towards those who needed his dreams the most.

Most nights, that meant a child who missed their parent who was away on a business or hunting trip, fearful that they might not return. Other times, it was a fear of the cold of night, or losing all they had left that drew the Sandman the most to a child. The Boogieman wasn't the only thing out there that could cause and sense fear. It was all Sanderson could do to not help every child that called to him with a more material gift, but he knew that most of them might not survive on that alone if they began to depend on it.

However, this night, the tug he felt was different- and especially stronger than anything he had felt before. It felt like the sand was physically pulling him to a wintery forest in one of the northern continents. It was always a treat to get to pass over there, because the dreams he could weave felt like nothing else in the world, and even then it varied even when he only travel a few hundred miles.

This area of the forest wasn't like that however, and felt just like the continent across the second largest sea. But the tug pulled him away from the dim fire light of struggling colonists (such a strange way to put it, considering that there were already people in those areas; they were really more like immigrants in his opinion) and toward the snow covered pines lit only by the light of the moon. Sanderson glanced up and noticed that it was just past the full moon, which meant that the time for interaction with Tsar Lunar had already gone.

The pull towards a child renewed its struggle to get Sanderson closer so he hurried to the edge of a frozen pond. His eyes widened and he glanced around worriedly, hoping that the child hadn't fallen in. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that some of his sand had run off on its own and was swirling around like it was trying to make someone fall asleep, but they kept moving.

As he tried to get closer, Sanderson noticed that a young man with snow white hair was laughing quietly as he ducked and dodged the sand, only to brush it with his hand when he had an opening to do so without the sand touching him otherwise. “Tag! Now you're it again!” The boy laughed as he floated through the trees that he was, well, playing in.

Sanderson was shocked that the boy didn't fall asleep where he stood as he sparkled, coated in a fine layer of dreamsand. The pull wanted to draw Sanderson closer to the boy, so he figured this must be why it was so strong. A spirit that can't fall asleep with just a nudge of his dreamsand must have needed his own personal help to get some rest.

Drawing himself up to a height where he could be seen, Sanderson waved at the boy, getting more frantic the more he wasn't noticed until he huffed and went up to him to tap his shoulder. The boy jumped and the look of joy on his face immediately turned to one of shock. He seemed torn between wanting to flee and reach out to the spirit, but quickly looked down and turned away, causing Sanderson to puff his cheeks out and tap the boy more firmly on the shoulder.

The boy gasped and fell onto his knees on the forest floor, shocking Sanderson into idleness before he noticed that the child was crying and moved to wipe his tears from his eyes, stopping only when the boy flinched away from him. A look of empathy grew heavy on the Sandman's face and he sat down in front of the boy, waiting for him to approach the glowing man.

The boy wrapped his arms around himself and glanced next to the tree he was up against, but his brow furrowed when he didn't see anything more than snow. He looked back at the small man and hurriedly wipes at the tears forming in his eyes when he's still looking at the child expectantly. “Can... can you really touch me?” He asked in a voice so quiet, Sanderson had to lean in slightly to hear him, but nodded rapidly when he made out the words the child said. He went on to ask, “C-can you see me?” His voice was a little louder but it wavered enough that the combination of his voice and teary eyes was enough to make the Sandman smile sympathetically and nod again.

Sanderson pointed to himself, and made a small pile of sand float in the air above his head, along with a vaguely humanoid shape. He could almost see the gears in the boy's head turn as he concentrated so hard on what Sanderson was trying to say, that it shocked him a little bit. “Sand-man? You're the Sandman?” After a large smile and two thumbs up from said Sandman, the boy looked down for a moment as he bit his lip before saying quietly, “I'm Jack Frost. The moon told me that much. I don't know why he didn't say anything else though.” The boy- Jack- pulled his knees up close to his chest, in probably was the only way he could have felt a hug for however long he'd been around as a spirit.

Sanderson made a note to himself to chew out the young Tsar the next time it was a full moon, because this was the first time he'd ever heard of this spirit, since it looks like he hadn't slept at all yet. But right now, he had to make sure that someone takes care of Jack until he was feeling better, because someone had to, and it might as well be him.

Sanderson gently tapped on Jack's knee and gestured above his head where he spelled out his name, in what he hoped was recognizable letters to Jack. He tried not to smile as he watched the boy mouth out letters one at a time before the word clicks and he said, “You want me to call you Sanderson? That's a little long, don't you think? Or were you named by someone else too?”

Sanderson shrugged and made images like nondescript text followed by an x covering what was vaguely shaped like himself. When he glanced back at Jack, he was nodding to himself and murmured, “So you're just like me than. Can I call you Sandy instead? It's close because there's an e right after the sand in your name, right?”

He realized right then that Jack had understood his sand symbols better than anyone he had ever met before, including the mermaids that hung around his floating island, and clapped happily as his silently laughter made him float up into the air. The sight made Jack giggle, but before long, both spirits were holding their stomachs from laughing so hard.

After the newly dubbed Sandy had regained his breath, he decided to start making Jack happier by offering him a hug. Jack wiped a few more tears from his eyes with a chuckle before he noticed the outstretched arms of his new friend. He slowly made his way to Sandy and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the fluffy golden man. Sandy gently pat his hands against Jack's shoulders before he was squeezed tightly by Jack, causing him to let out a chuckle until he noticed that Jack was shaking in his arms.

Sandy tried to look at Jack's face, but it was buried too deeply into his shoulder. Sandy sighed and patted Jack, letting him let out the tears that he'd no doubt been holding back for his own sake. Eventually, the shaking stopped long enough for Jack to let go of Sandy so that the dreamweaver could see his smiling face. Jack let out a hoarse, “Thank you,” and wiped his nose on the offered handkerchief from Sandy.

Sandy made a few symbols that he hoped Jack understood- the star shape he used for himself, a snowflake, and a bird flying in front of the moon as it changed phases. After a few moments consideration Jack spoke, “You and me, flying and time passing? You want me to fly with you for a while?”

Sandy nodded so heartily that he flips them upside down while they're floating, and he would swear that the laughter that came as a result was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

(He would soon be proven correct as he heard it time and time again when Jack visited his home, his castle. It seemed a little brighter every time the boy came over, but maybe that was just him.)

[wendyalice-archive]

Would you like me to sing for you?

(For JackSandy Week, Day 12: Songs. This is all the fault of this video because that is Jack's voice actor. That is canonly how Jack sounds when he sings. That is unfair, Sandy's about to get some swooning in.

Jack is not what he would call a singer. Really, not at all would he even consider himself a singer. He doesn’t even know if he’s good at singing, he would just sing a bit on occasion sometimes. Around Christmas time, whichever song he had heard the most as he traveled would come back at the more silent times, the days and nights where everyone huddled inside or tried to get away from the cold, where the streets were full of snow and nothing else. He would hum it gently under his breath as he passed by, trying to fill in the silence that not even the wind could break.   Sometimes, on days where nothing seemed to get him down, where there had been a day full of snow men and snow forts and snow fights, where he could have sworn it would be any day now when someone would see him. Those days, Jack like to sing, songs that made him dance and smile, jumping and flipping through the air at the wind’s gentle push. It was still soft, only a faint sound drifting from his lips, but it seemed loud enough for him and well, that was really all that mattered at that moment.

At the time, it was because he hadn’t had an audience. Now, in North’s workshop, in the guest room Jack was given and Sandy likes to share with him, he finally has an audience to sing for. Which makes it more embarrassing when he feels like his throat is going to clamp shut.  Sandy and Jack have the same affinity for music: they love it. They listen to all kinds of music, from anywhere they can. They fly everywhere, to hear the radios blaring a million different songs, to the street performers who leave no filter between their performance and their audience, to even the thin walls or open windows of clubs letting their music pour through the streets. They love it all and dance to it whenever they can. Sometimes, Sandy likes to sign to the song. His sand whirls back into his sleeves or swirls back into Sandy’s ever present dreamcloud, and he begins to move his hands, a dance in and of itself. Jack knows more American sign language than any other, but if Sandy keeps signing in French, he may learn more than he does of the Russian. It is Sandy’s way of singing and it is beautiful, to not only see his hands to flow with the music seamlessly, but to see’s Sandy’s face become as expressive as the singers voice. Jack watches, leaning forward, captured and dying to join in, to sing along with Sandy. He always opens his mouth, always take in a deep breath, always ready to begin. Yet, always, he stops, closing his mouth and slips back into the role of attentive audience member once more. But now they’re alone, in a room that isn’t quite soundproof, but if he was quiet, no one outside of this room would be able to hear. The question was, would Sandy even want to? He looks to Sandy, who is flitting about the room, his head whipping back and forth before resting his chin on his hand with a thoughtful expression. Jack raises an eyebrow and closes his eyes, drumming his hands on his crook in his lap. “If you’re looking for the thingy that looked like a seashell, the one with the spikes and shimmered whenever I touched it, it’s in the top shelf of the drawer where all your other doohickeys are.” Jack says, cracking an eye open to look at Sandy turn to him. His eyes are wide and his mouth has fallen into a perfect “o” as he stares at him. His face shifts, his eyes going rounded and bright as the corners of his mouth touch either side of his face. Sandy jumps in midair, sandy gold stars shooting from his head and he gives him a tiny salute. Both of his eyes open as Jack smiles back, watching Sandy rush over to the drawer. Jack’s eyes never leave Sandy, even as his smile falls a bit, the light in his eyes dimming a bit, as he gnaws on his lower lip. Sandy is still rummaging through the drawer, his hands pushing away tiny machines that clank and clatter noisily, his head tucked low and close to the drawer. After another minute of this, Jack takes a deep breath and comes to a decision. “Hey, um, Sandy?” Sandy pauses, raising his head and turning toward Jack, a question mark forming over his head. “Um,” Jack starts, shifting a bit on the bed so he could face Sandy, “When you’re done finding your whose-a-whats-it, I was wondering if you could come here for a second?” Sandy blinks at him and start closing the drawer, moving towards Jack. Jack rolls his eyes, giving him a lidded eye look and Sandy forms another question mark, the raising of his eyebrows plus sky smile he gives him, completing his sarcastic look. He jumps once more and lands on the bed, settling down beside Jack and shifting to face him. Jack’s stomach turns itself into knots when Sandy fixes his eyes on him, mentally wishing he had thought of a song before he called Sandy over. Jack takes another deep breath, “Okay, so um, I wanted to…try something.” One of Sandy’s eyebrows quirks up and he tilts his head, another question mark appearing before Sandy waves it away and creates a little check mark. Jack smiles at him and Sandy smiles back, his hand reaching out to take Jack’s. Jack’s hand gives Sandy’s a light squeeze as Sandy rubs his tiny thumb along pale knuckles. Jack takes another breath, trying to calm the nerves that must be tipping Sandy off. He licks his lips, closes his eyes, takes one more deep breath, and parts his lips. A song floats out between his lips. “Fly me to the moon, and let me play amongst the stars,” Jacks sings, the rough sound of his voice smoothing out quickly, becoming almost pleasant to his own ears. Jack takes another look at Sandy, whose eyes are wide and his face is slack, before smiling and continuing. “Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter…and Mars.” He makes his eyes go lidded and his voice goes softer, hopefully smoother, at the end. He wants to play, maybe try and go for that soft, velvet tenor he hears in Jazz singers. He leans in close and tries to feel and look confident. Sandy is still staring at him, his shock turning into awe which turns into something warmer, something heated, as they lean in closer. Jack’s breathes lightly on Sandy’s lips as his eyes flutter closed, his mouth still moving, “In other words, please be true…” Jack’s other arm wraps around Sandy as the other’s hand fists his hoodie, “In other words….baby, kiss me.” Their lips meet a second after wards, their heads tilting as they deepen the kiss. Jack feels Sandy part his lips, his tongue swiping at Jack’s lower lip whose mouth opens to take Sandy’s lower lip in between his teeth. He’s not sure how long they’ve been kissing until they break for a second, panting slightly, Jack’s cheeks beginning to frost over as Sandy’s face looks a tad bit like it’s glowing. Jack chuckles and Sandy smiles at him, his lidded eyes flashing amber and it causes a shiver to run up Jack’s spine. Sandy forms a pair of full lips, a heart, and an exclamation point above his head. Jack laughs, raising his arms to wrap around Sandy, “Sexy? Really? You sure, because I’m not completely convinced-” Sandy silences him with another kiss.

[gretchensinister]

Winter Knight for the Summer King

I heard it was AU day for JackSandy Week!

Jack Frost is a knight of the Winter Court, sent away in an exchange as part of the treaty between the Summer and Winter Courts. The Summer King's quite taken with him...quite a lovely pawn this boy is...

***

            Frost knew why he was being sent away from the Winter Court—he laughed too easily, he talked too much, he had a rebellious streak a mile wide—but that didn’t mean that his heart didn’t ache as he walked over the months towards the Summer Court. For better or for worse, the grim beauty of Winter had been his familiar home. He had served the dour king of Winter as loyally as he could, though apparently not with the kind of loyalty the Winter King had wanted.

            And so now his final act of loyalty was to serve as the knight of exchange from the Winter to the Summer Court.

            Only a few steps away now, he tried to tamp down his nervousness. If he accidentally froze the Summer Court, it would no doubt be taken as an act of war, and no one wanted that. The Summer King and the Winter King were very good at fighting each other, and doing so for centuries at a time. But war was difficult to focus on for everyone else, and Frost didn’t want to be the one to break the longest-lasting truce they’d ever had.

            He took a deep breath and stepped across the invisible border into the apple-scented Summerlands. He felt himself noticed at once, and with another step he was only a few steps away from the Summer King’s throne.

            He stared around, gaping, though he shut his mouth quickly. It wasn’t what he had expected, but this was Summer, wasn’t it? Court was being kept on a beach of soft golden sand bathed in late afternoon sunlight, while most of the courtiers, male and female and those less easy to define, lounged on richly colored blankets, the little clothing they wore decoration rather than covering. A U of three-sided silk tents surrounded the court, providing shade and holding refreshment, while the open end of the U allowed the mermaids in the nearby sea to be included in court matters easily, though as far as Jack could see, his business of declaring himself as the knight offered by Winter might be the only thing on the agenda that day.

            He felt stupidly overdressed in his elaborate armor of frosted ice, and even more stupidly unable to look at any of the Summer fae without staring. Though no two looked alike, they were all astonishingly beautiful in ways he hadn’t even been able to imagine before, so different were they from those of Winter. Was this how mortals felt, seeing any of them? He could almost sympathize.

            To focus, he lifted his gaze towards the Summer King—and immediately had to lower his gaze. This King, too, was unlike what he had expected, being nearly the complete opposite of the Winter King.

            He reclined in a throne of polished driftwood with a seat set close to the sand that branched above him and along the ground almost as if it was a living thing, drinking from a golden cup. He was short, plump as a ripe peach, golden as the sun, with a broad, handsome face and sleepy eyes. He wore no impressive ceremonial robes, but only a light toga of green-gold silk that fluttered in the ocean breeze, and a circlet of seashells tied together with dune grass.

            His eyes flashed as he saw Frost, and he grinned widely. “Our Winter Knight,” he said quietly, and all other conversations ceased. Frost felt dozens of eyes turn toward him and he gulped. The Winter King hadn’t told him what to do at this point. He had to swear his fealty, yes, but there was so little formality here.

            “Come forward, Winter Knight,” the Summer King said. “Kneel.”

            This, at least he was familiar with.

            “The Winter King has sent you to us.” The Summer King spoke so that all the court might hear. “Do you renounce him and swear your loyalty to me?”

            Before he could think, Frost replied in the affirmative.

            The Summer King’s grin softened. “What shall we call you?”

            “You may call me Winter Knight, or Frost.” The Summer King nodded, and the court applauded—strange, Frost thought, to be applauded—before immediately going back to their previous amusements.

            He went to stand, but a look from the Summer King kept him kneeling. The King beckoned him forward, and Frost obeyed, until he was close enough to the Summer King to breathe the scent of his skin. He smelled, dizzyingly, of honey. Frost felt entirely out of his depth, a feeling that was only reinforced when the King spoke into his ear in a husky whisper. “So you are the fine gift the King of Winter has sent to me. Were you his most favored knight, Frost?”

            “His other knights were naught but the shadows of bare branches,” Frost answered.

            The Summer King chuckled low in his throat. “Lovely. He always had such trouble with minds not his own. But I can already tell that you will soon become my most favored knight. Tell me, Frost,” he said, his lips nearly brushing his ear, his warm breath melting the armor around his throat and revealing his pale skin, “what shall I call you?”

            “You want my name!”

            “Mmmm. I am your king now, I have a right to it…I am accustomed to full use of things I have the right to.”

            Frost took a deep breath and shivered as more of his armor became drops of sparkling water running down his skin. “Jack Frost,” he said, quickly, quietly. He couldn’t have refused. He didn’t think he even really wanted to.

            “Beautiful,” the Summer King murmured, and with his next breath melted the rest of Frost’s armor away.

            The first-ever touch of Summer’s sunlight on his skin made him gasp in shocked delight, while something in the Summer King’s eyes reminded him that he was still all-too-capable of burning.