Chapter Text
10 (10)
Jamie’s calendar said it had only been seven months – but it felt longer – since he met Jack Frost. Who was most certainly his best friend forever. Even if Jack couldn’t be around all the time. But every snow day, Jack’s visits made them the best!
Today wasn’t a snow day – it was New Year’s Eve.
Burgess wasn’t a big town, but it had its own traditions. They’d all gather in the town square around Old Thad’s statue and have a winter fete. With a midnight fireworks show.
The Bennetts went every year, and Jamie was super looking forward to this year for two reasons. He was old enough to stay up until midnight, and Jack Frost was going to come.
Jamie was happily wandering around with a cone of buttery popcorn when a chill wind blasted him from above. He looked up and his smile grew to a full-faced grin.
“Jack!”
“Sorry I’m late, kiddo. Hope I didn’t miss the show.”
“It’s okay, it’s only ten thirty,” Jamie assured Jack before leaning close to Jack to whisper, “I’m up way past my bedtime.”
“Way?”
“Way,” Jamie agreed. He frowned and asked, “Sandy’s not going to be mad, is he?”
Jack hummed thoughtfully, and smiled what his “big brother” smile, “Nah, he won’t. I think you can get away with one night. Especially if your mom said it’s okay.”
Jack stuck with Jamie until the fireworks went up and faded away. Jamie was content holding his hand – he thought all the kissing the adults were up to was weird. Plus, Jack acted really offended when Jamie laughed at how the coloured flashes painted Jack’s face.
9 (11)
This year Jamie saw Jack coming, so he wasn’t surprised when an icy blast tried to flatten him. The eleven year old levelled his best unimpressed look at his friend and crossed his arms. Half for effect, half to keep warm.
“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined, “the others just wouldn’t let me leave. I had to sneak out. And I’m not late, I don’t smell fireworks.”
“Just, Jack, just,” Jamie countered, pinching air and looking at Jack through his almost touching thumb and forefinger. “They’ll be going off in five minutes.”
“Phew,” Jack said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “I was worried I might end up flying into them.”
“You’d deserve it,” Jamie grumbled.
“Don’t be like that.”
The five minutes were spent in a silent battle. Jack first trying to an apology then a rise out of Jamie. And the believer doing his let nothing show. Especially surrounded by a bunch of people who couldn’t see his tormentor.
“10!” began the chant.
“I’m really sorry–” began Jack.
“9!” / “–but there was a–”
“8!” / “–Guardian thing.”
“7!” / “It’s’okay.”
“6!” / “Really?”
“5!” / “Yeah. I under–”
“4!” / “–stand, you’re–”
“3!” / “–a busy hero.”
“2!” / “Thanks.”
“1!” / “No prob.”
“Happy New Year!”
Jamie could’ve sworn that Jack’s face was red even before the fireworks started. They stood comfortably, Jamie leaning against his guardian-friend. The show hadn’t climaxed when Jack tensed and made a little sound of guilty annoyance.
“Oi! Brain-freeze!”
“Gotta go,” Jack half-apologised, and kneeled to pulled Jamie into a hug, “can’t let Bunny catch me. He might throw me in a sack again.”
Looking Jack in the eye, Jamie had an idea. He’d asked his mom about it and it seemed just what Jack needed. So he stretched a little and placed a kiss on Jack’s forehead.
“A New Year’s kiss for good luck. That’s what mom said,” Jamie explained. He saw grey ears over the crowd, and wriggled out of Jack’s hold. “He’s behind you, better fly.”
Jack didn’t, instead he let go of Jamie, saluted and ran through the crowd. Literally. Jamie made sure to point in the wrong direction when Bunny reached him.
8 (12)
Things were different in the Burgess this New Year’s Eve. For most it was merely the addition of a huge projector screen channelling the coverage of Times Square.
For Jamie it was that Jack had been early. The guardian had arrived before even the early winter sunset. And spent the whole evening focused on Jamie.
“I’ll take you there next year.”
“What?”
“Times Square.”
“Really?”
“Yep. It’s pretty neat, we’ll camp out on some rooftop and watch the ball drop.”
“Cool.”
There was only so much to do at a fete you’d attended (or secretly watched) for several years (or decades). After a few hours the duo was bored and had retreated to behind one of the marquees. Jack was telling stories of his travels and of the other Guardians.
“Wait, Tooth won the drinking contest?”
“Yep. You should look up sunbirds.”
“There you are Jamie! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Jack just sniggered and trailed along as Jamie’s mom dragged him back for the countdown. This time the frozen boy decided to be a pest by shouting as many fractional steps as he could fit in. And a few wrong ones.
Jamie was starting at the pyrotechnical spectacle above when something icy pressed against his cheek. He startled away and turned to find Jack grinning unrepentant.
“Revenge is mine!” he cackled, before subsiding, “but also good luck for next year.”
7 (13)
New York was spectacular. Times Square was spectacular. Jack was spectacular. The trouble Jamie would be in when he got home would be spectacular. And yet he didn’t care.
“Maybe I’ll take you to Sydney next year,” Jack mused. “I mean, it’s summer there but if you wanna go. Plus it’d be what early afternoon back at home?”
“Eight a.m.”
“What?”
“I looked it up, midnight in Sydney is eight in the morning in Burgess,” Jamie said holding up his new phone.
His mom only vaguely remembered getting it, but Jamie had noticed the Made at the North Pole inscribed on the box. Jamie was sure it was magic.
“Fine,” Jack harrumphed, then metaphorically sprung back up, “Or we could go to Berlin. They have a pancake race! I won the race once.”
“Did you fly?”
“…yes.”
“Then I think you cheated.”
“No, there was no no flying rule.”
“Miss Bomba says double negatives are wrong.”
“Didn’t I say no three times? That makes it a triple negative. Two of those cancel each other, leaving one, right?”
Jamie recognised Jack trying to drag him into a nonsense conversation, and had learned the only way to win was not to play. He dodged Jack’s attempts to lure him into madness by surfing the web.
“Apparently Reykjavik sets off 500 tonnes of fireworks.”
“Really? It’s Reykjavík,” Jack corrected.
Conversation continued about how New Year’s was celebrated around the world. Interspersed with supervised jaunts down to ground level for snacks and sightseeing. Time flew and it glowing ball began its slow descent.
It was an accident. Jack bent too low. Jamie reached too high. It was Jamie’s turn to place the kiss. Jack forgot how much Jamie had grown. Whatever the reasons, this time the good luck kiss wasn’t one-sided. But a mutual peck.
Both boys reeled back in surprise, and in the tradition of masculinity pretended nothing happened.
6 (14)
“5!” the crowd of spirits, legends, and a handful of mortals chanted, “4! 3! 2! 1!”
Their cry of “Happy New Year!” was drowned out by fireworks inside and out of the globe room’s dome at the Workshop. But the massive clocks spaced at what be the cardinal directions anywhere but the north pole didn’t keep time. Instead as the minute hand ticked to one past the hour, the hour hand tocked back to eleven.
North liked to party, and since it was forever midnight at his workshop, he was going to celebrate every timezone’s midnight.
Jamie had thought the idea cool but now realised it was tiring. Especially when Bangladesh, Nepal and India had their new years fifteen minutes after one another.
“Hmmm, ear!”
That was the warning that Jamie got before icy lips pressed themselves against his left ear. He didn’t yelp. No matter what a certain winter guardian might tell you.
“Gah, Jack, was that tongue?”
Jack had decided that new year’s kisses had to be bestowed every time the clock hit midnight. Plus that he didn’t trust anyone to take advantage of Jamie. Something about kisses being potentially enchanted. And that it would be more fun to kiss him somewhere new every single time.
Jamie had been peck on the forehead, nose (nipped even), back of the neck, sole of his foot (somehow), wrist, and half a dozen other places.
Not on the lips though. And when Jamie snuck home in the late hours of the predawn, he slipped into bed oddly disappointed.
5 (15)
After the last two years, the Burgess NYE Fete was boring to Jamie. More so than being a moody fifteen year old would account for. The quaint small town affair had nothing on his last two New Year’s. Despite himself, Jamie’s gaze kept swinging back to the screen broadcasting the Times Square show.
It brought back happy memories. But also brutally reminded him of why he was so angry this year.
Only a minute left and Jack hadn’t showed. Jamie hadn’t even seen his Guardian all winter. He couldn’t let himself believe that Jack present yet invisible. Jamie had promised he would always believe in Jack, and he didn’t think he’d broken that promise. Why would he be worried so much if he didn’t believe? Nor could Jamie entertain the thought that Jack was hiding from him.
So something had to be keeping Jack away. Jamie doubted it would be anything less than Pitch threatening to safety of the world’s children.
The countdown began and Jamie joined in only half-heartedly. The fireworks had lost their appeal, and Jamie only watched the fancy sky sparklers because that everyone else was. They seemed dull somehow.
Then everything went black as icy hands covered Jamie’s eyes.
“Jack!” cried Jamie, the emotion a mess of joy, anger, and surprise.
“Hi, sorry, can’t stay long, gotta Monkey King to put down,” Jack rambled as he dropped his hand to spin Jamie by the shoulders, “I’m really sorry about not being here, and I can’t stay. Sorry.”
“You sound like Ten.”
“Sorry?”
“Nevermind.”
“Okay… anyway, why I’m here.”
Jack pulled Jamie towards him and kissed him full on the lips. Not platonically like previous kisses, but nothing untoward. In fact, Jamie felt like it was a test or offer, of what he wasn’t sure.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”
“Good luck,” Jamie whispered to the wind.
And Jack was gone.