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The sun is creeping downward onto the horizon, bathing the clouds in a pink and red glow. It's late afternoon, which means the sunset is bright and beautiful, the cafés are closing up for the day, the traffic is shit, and the air is slowly getting cooler.

The afternoon is Jack's least favourite time of day. It’s pink and quiet, but that's about it. It carries none of the practical features of midday, nor the blooming promise in the early night. Where the later night hours excite him with their swarthy allure, and the early hours of morning bring with them a quiet sort of catharsis, the afternoon never fails to leave him unimpressed.

Which is why he always insists to Bunnymund that this time is the best time for them to have sex. He's just gotten home from work and showered, and all he's going to do for the rest of the evening is sit in front of the TV unless he gets a call from the garden ranch. Jack spends most of his time wandering the city and sitting at home doing the housekeeping, having no real need to find work, as his father's jaw-dropping inheritance gave him (and his sister) the freedom to never actually have to work again.

As it stands, neither Jack nor Bunny have plans to do anything any time soon.

Even if Bunny weakly insists his hands are sore from picking up ceramic pots all day, Jack tells him he doesn’t have to use them, and Bunny sees no reason to deny himself a treat at the end of a hard day’s work at his dream job.

So here they are in the older man’s bedroom, Bunny sitting back on the headboard of his bed with his hands on the smaller male’s thighs as Jack straddles his hips, Jack’s body rising and falling at a steady pace, hands resting on the older male’s shoulders.

Jack’s eyes are closed, his lips parted for air. The way the afternoon sun lights his face and bare chest - adorned with pink scars - makes it seem as though he’s actually gaining energy from the act, rather than releasing it. The pace that the younger male sets is relaxed, he wants to feel every inch of his partner’s curved length press against his walls, he savours the pangs of ecstasy he feels when Bunny’s dick twitches inside him.

It's really nice, but it's not mind-blowing. That's okay, though. Jack doesn't want it to be.

It's gentle, but it's also touch starved. Jack rubs his clit with his two middle fingers, sometimes Bunny will do it for him with his thumb, but they both know neither of them want it heavier than that. Even after the nights Jack makes Bunny fuck him ‘til they're scared the neighbours have called the police because of all the noise, they don't kiss at any moment, never have, and they don't stroke each other lovingly post-coitus. Oral sex is the closest they get to kissing, and sometimes, they both feel that even that is a bit too intimate for them.

Intimacy isn’t a sore subject for them by any means. It's just not what they need or want from one another.

Now, however, drained and satisfied, Jack opts to lie forward onto Bunny’s chest in a rare display of comfort through trust, and he catches his breath in the crook of the man’s neck.

Bunny doesn't really know what to do, so he just drapes his hand on Jack's back.

The younger male’s breathing pattern is growing steady, and when Bunny nudges him, all he gets is a little grunt in return. Jack sounds like he's about to fall asleep.

“... So. Who were you talkin’ to the other night?”

Jack jumped. That woke him up. He peeled back and sat up. Bunny grunted and flapped his hand at Jack, urging him to get off his dick.

Despite their casual relationship, he'd be lying if he said he didn't favour Jack over a lot of people, if only for the fact that it's not often you can have casual sex with someone AND watch your cum leak out of them without worrying about any surprises from the doctor's office.

Bunny wasn't actually interested in hearing about Jack’s personal affairs at first and he wasn’t going to question him any further, but Jack was practically stacking it over his words, and the man underneath him was growing curious.

He waits for Jack to calm down, and he arches an eyebrow at him.

“Come on. Spill the beans.”

Jack looks confused and a little dazed from his seat on Bunny’s hairy, toned thighs.

“Um. A-hah. His name’s Hiccup.”

“That the young bloke who was munchin’ yer rug like it was going outta style in the doorway at the club the other night?”

Jack snorts and puts a hand over his eyes, nodding his head.

“Yes, Bunny. The guy was basically a flooring specialist. He was doing an incredible job at bringing my carpet to life. He asked for my number after he busted a nut inside me in a toilet stall.”

“You're fucked, mate. That’s fuckin’ feral,” The man remarks with a grin.

“Hey! The walls were clean, and that's the only part either of us touched.”

“It's a damn toilet, Frost! Shit, if you’da done that at a club in Cairns you'd have contracted something whether he was negative on his tests or not. How do you know he was, by the way? I'm not keen for another course of Doxycycline.”

“Ugh, shut up. I don't, but he did ask me if I was sober enough to fuck him, and he asked me for my number. That's not what a gift-giver usually does. His cock was massive, by the way, uncut and pristine. There was absolutely no chance of me passing a ride on that thing up.”

Bunny rolls his eyes, though not with contempt. He's fairly used to Jack’s irresponsible behaviour by now.

“He could be asymptomatic. He might not even know he has anything. Get yer shit together, Jack. Wrap him up next time if you can’t wait long enough to get him to give you some test results. We’re both going to the doctor’s too, by the way.”

“Oh my god. Okay, whatever. I feel fine, but whatever. I'll tell him to give me results.”

Bunny takes this chance to pry further.

“So, you are actually planning on seein’ him again.”

Jack presses his lips together and rolls off of Bunny’s lap. He feels himself blushing, and he doesn't want to look like a lovestruck idiot in front of him.

“Yeah,” He answers from the sheets, where he can now hide his flushed cheeks.

“That’s good. Really good. You've never returned a call or text from anyone you've met at a club. He must be a nice bloke.”

The tattooed man’s words are oddly soft.

Jack turns to face Bunny again, looking tentative.

“You're okay with it?”

Bunny looks at him and frowns.

“You're joking. Of course I'm okay with it. Why wouldn't I be?”

Despite his nervousness regarding the subject, Jack can't help but laugh at how casual Bunny is being about it.

“I… just - I thought you'd feel a little left out, is all.”

Bunny sighs, turning to face him. Deep and meaningful, coming right up.

“Jack, look. When your father told me to take care of you before he passed on, I know our relationship really wasn't what he had in mind. He’s probably spewin’ about it in his grave as we speak.”

Jack closes his eyes with a wry smile. He says nothing, only waits for Bunny to continue.

“I can't say this is the most morally abundant thing I've ever done. It might not be as bad as some of the shit I did as a teenager back home, given you're a fully consenting adult of drinking age, but it's not great. I should and do want to settle with someone my own age, once work stops being such a huge commitment.”

“And?”

“It’d be a pretty fuckin’ dog move for me to stop you dating someone who isn't eight years ahead of you in life.”

Jack nods, slowly. He feels his heart swelling, just a little bit.

“If you seeing this Hiccup fella means we don't ever even touch each other again, that's all good with me. I don’t want you to be mine, Jack. I just want you to be happy. It's what your father would have wanted, too.”

Jack can't help but smile, now. He doesn't really care about the huge reservations Bunny had over start of their relationship. He's just glad that he still has his best interest in mind, after all this time he's had to get used to being the only person who regularly sleeps with him.

“Thanks, Aster.” Jack says, with more genuine feeling than Bunny has seen him express in a while.

“Yeah, whatever. Just make sure he's not a chaser and don't let ‘im push you around, cause if he pulls any’a that shit on you, I will personally come ‘round and knock the cunt’s teeth out and shove ‘em right up his arse.”

Jack ignores Bunny’s empty threat, and instead pounces on him, stealing the first kiss he's ever dared to take from him. It's just on the side of his mouth, and it doesn't last more than a second, but Bunny still spits and shoves him away while Jack laughs at the man’s expense.

“For fuck’s sake, Jack! You little--”

Bunny is cut off by the sound of his phone buzzing, and he turns around to pick it up. Jack takes this moment to hide his face in his arms. He's grinning ear-to-ear.

“Shit. I've gotta head out, Jack. One of the chooks’s kicked it, and the live-ins don't know how it happened. There's leftovers in the fridge if you need ‘em.”

Bunny showers and dresses swiftly, and dimly, Jack thinks he's a little eager to leave the house for a dead chicken. Sure, he understands that Bunny loves the birds, and he takes very good care of them. But the live-in workers at the garden could easily just isolate and freeze the corpse in a bag and wait ‘til tomorrow to hand it over to the veterinarian for an autopsy.

Bunny is a rigid guy, though. He shows affection in the strangest ways. Jack believes he has a heart of gold, under all his gruff and eccentric charm. He just has a bit of trouble letting it show. Perhaps the way he grew up may have had a hand in it.

He holds onto Bunny’s pillow as he listens to his car pull out, and Jack feels more gratitude towards the man than ever.

After a nap that lasts an hour or two, Jack ventures out into the living room, still butt naked. It's his house, after all.

The sun has set, welcoming an evening full of promise. Bunny’s not back home yet, but Jack decides he shouldn't wait up for him to heat up dinner. He checks his phone, and discovers that Hiccup has sent him a few messages since he last checked a few hours ago. Two of them are pictures of his dragon sitting in a patch of sun, captioned with heart emojis, others are comprised of the idle chatter that comes from a person too excited to keep his fingers still.

Jack feels the warmth of his good fortune, and he hopes it will stay that way for a little while longer.