.title.: Dress Codes
.summary.: Jack keeps ripping his hundred-year-old pants and Rapunzel is the only person he knows that can sew. Plus it's an illegal amount of fun to make her blush.
.characters.: Rapunzel/Jack Frost
.warnings.: Jack being an immature little shit.
.cover art by.: I can't find the source link, and believe me I have tried. However, the signature reads 'youngbal'.
.a/n.: (Yes, I have now watched RotG, don't worry.)
Lina (lovely-lina on tumblr & LovelyLina94 on here) and I were having a weird conversation and it turned to how Jack had the same pants for 300 years and then...well and then this happened. Idea is split between the two of us but I just had to pounce on the chance to write it.
Enjoy my first complete Jackunzel fic and applaud my poor humour.
(No seriously though check out Lina on both sites she's really awesome and talented and writes Hiiiiijack)
"Punzie, you're good with a needle, right?" is his greeting today.
She looks down at him in mid-brush of her hair, tilting her head. They've been very good friends for a while so 'hello's aren't really necessary, but she knows that Jack has a habit threading any requests into subtle conversation, as if he doesn't really want to bug her with them. She can feel one coming now, and watches where he soars up to her level from the floor.
Rapunzel sits back on the beam where she brushes her hair, and asks, "I guess. Why?"
Jack smiles sheepishly and holds out his leg to her in midair, showing off a gash in the fabric up his thigh. "Flying accident," he says.
She rolls her eyes at him in jest, and throws her hair in a loop over the beam she sits on - with manouvering she has long perfected from eighteen years in the tower, she lowers herself to the main floor. Scampering to get her supplies, she has to giggle to herself. For a boy who has gone up to a century in the same pants, she is surprised this hasn't happened to him before.
He follows her along, and it's only when she's set her stuff up in the middle of the floor - needle threaded in record time and all - that she realises something.
Suddenly feeling minutely flustered, she instead scoots towards where he stands and tries to snatch the cuff of his trousers with needle armed. Jack jumps away immediately.
"You're not going to do it while they're on me," he drawls, then points at her and gestures with the finger for her to turn around.
She purses her lips. "I won't stab you - "
His azure eyes flash at her with amusement. "I'll keep out of sight, I promise."
She hums in suspicion, then spins to face the opposite wall. She can hear his footsteps shuffling and the rustle of material right before a pair of brown pants slide across the floor next to her. She quickly snatches them up and sets to work on the fabric, determinedly not looking at him but despite that, she's a traitor to herself and feels the burning of a blush.
He says as if he can see her reaction, "You're such a girl," and laughs. There's a rush of icy wind as he soars up to the rafters and patiently waits there until she's done - when she is, Rapunzel hesitantly holds them out and avoids looking in the darkness as if he'll jump out at her like a ghoul.
Another gust of wind, and they're gone. He stands on the other side of the room, hopping into his pants, with keen eyes on the stitches she'd placed.
He looks up and for a quick second he is standing there with his pants half down and their eyes are locking and she blushes so hard it scorches.
And then despite her discomfort, he still has the audacity to lightly snap his thumb in the waistband of his underwear and ask, "What, do you want these too?"
She sticks her tongue out at him and sweeps up her things. Next time she lets her eyes daringly fall on him, he's fully clothed and prodding through her bureau that she's left open.
The next time it happens, he glides into the tower and announces loudly, "I hate trees and that is official."
She glances up from her tray of freshly baked cookies to see him skidding his heels to the floor, leaves in his hair, a dramatic swagger to the way he holds up a hand like he is a trophy to be worshipped. She grins at him.
"Did you crash again?" she asks knowingly.
"Well, technically, I got stuck."
She sets down the tray and laughs, scampering up to him. "And...?"
"The pants again."
She figured. She asks primly, "Where did you rip them?"
Jack shrugs - a flicker of his eyes on her makes her suddenly fear the worst, and he immediately sets to work pulling the clothing off.
"Stop!" she blurts in a high-pitched voice, waving a hand at him urgently. "Not this again. Change - change over there while I get my stuff." Pointing to the first corner of the room she can reach before he finishes what he started, Rapunzel endures his snickering with impressive tolerance.
"Fine, fine, princess," he says languidly, strolling through the air to the requested corner. She knows he's doing it purposely - she can always tell by the chipperly haughty expression he'd wear when executing a ploy to drive her nuts - and wants to retort that he isn't the only one who can do the embarassing in this tower, but quite honestly she doesn't want to strip in front of him just to get him to blush. Instead she gathers her sewing things.
She sits herself in the middle of the floor with a puff of her veil of blonde, and begins threading. "Okay, Jack!"
He responds with the pants colliding with the back of her head. She shoves them off her shoulders and, without thinking, whirls around to cast him a comment that only makes it halfway out of her mouth - "You know I can let you walk around with ruined pants for as long as I want - " beore she freezes at the sight of him.
He's just standing there, scraping a cookie from the pan, looking sorely disappointed when it doubtlessly goes cold in his hands, and completely careless in his distractingly sheer undergarments.
She flushes, and hard. With that and the simple white shirt and vest combo (he'd unfortunately dropped the cloak a few months ago, even though it could have helped him remain a little bit decent), he was blatantly more uncovered than she'd ever seen anyone. Any boy.
She distracts herself with the pants, stabbing the needle through the fabric with a strength that catches her by surprise. He's her really good friend, so why does he have to be so annoying and deliberately making her embarassed like this?
Shaking her head, she tugs at the thread - she's really quite quick at sewing but she doesn't want to finish too fast. She doesn't want to have to realise that yes, he is here in her tower alone with her and strolling around in an indecency that looks far too particularly - indecent for her. Also she's blushing so hard she guesses she'll lose all blood in her feet.
This is stupid. He's just a boy.
She breaks the thread with her teeth, sighs, and holds up the trousers. Her smile is relieved and happy with her work. Mother Gothel always complimented her on her invisible stitches. Hopefully he'll feel the same and this won't - ever - happen again.
She calls his name, following it with, "I'm done."
"You can turn around. I'm decent."
She cocks an eyebrow to the facing wall. What? "I still have your pants."
"So? Seriously, it's fine."
Rapunzel crookedly frowns, but risks a look over her shoulder. Jack has a habit for pranking, so this -
Well, this is one of his weaker ones.
She slaps a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing aloud but can't help it. He's somehow managed to snatch one of her nightgowns, and although he can't fit it, he holds it up at the shoulders and grins devillishly at her.
"You wanted me to cover up. I think this shows off my legs really well," he says, tugging at the skirt.
She throws his pants back at his face before dissolving into laughter, awkwardness forgotten.
The third time, Rapunzel is prepared. At least, she thinks she is.
She hears him before she sees him - her feet scurry to the window, bringing her to her tiptoes so she can squint into the landscape of where her tower lies. Like thunder to lightning, a flash of leaves, silver hair and a dark vest alert her to Jack's presence tearing over the valley.
And then he lands on the windowsill with a sudden halt like he's just hit a wall. Green shocked eyes stare at him as he strolls in with a new lazy stroll, pants already hanging from his fingers. And off of him. Very blatantly off his body. With his arm up like that, she gets far too much of an eyefull of a slat of exposed stomach, white skin and sharp hipbone and all.
"Um," Rapunzel blinks at him awkwardly, "another tree?"
"Palace horse," he says, spinning on his invisible platform to raise both eyebrows at her for emphasis. She averts her eyes and hooks them onto the trousers he's holding - one of the legs is nearly completely torn off, frayed above the thigh. The image of an irate horse with its teeth clamped in his clothing almost makes her giggle.
"What were you even doing?" she says. She wastes no time in rushing away to where she sewed them every other time, legs crossed, needle and thread already in hand. Jack is so - Oh, how would he like it if she walked around in only her slip? He's trying to hard to bug her and it's working.
He's followed her - standing in front of her, of course - and hovers the pants above her head. Rapunzel stares judgingly right in his eyes.
"Funny story," he shrugs, and to her surprise, sets them down neatly in front of her. Then (to more surprise) sits himself beside her, legs splayed out before them and toes wiggling. "Would you believe me if I said horses are a lot more successful at standing on ice than people are?"
She giggles, poking the string through the eye of the needle and knotting the end. "Jack, you are so weird."
"No weirder than you." He leans over with a haze of chill surrounding him to watch her as she begins to work, drawing the fabric back together best she can. He really did destroy it this time. He asks, "You know what I was thinking?"
"I think I should just learn to sew by myself."
The image of that makes her laugh - she doubts he'd have the patience for that, but she grins at him anyways and happily passes the pants over. Over his lap, to be specific. She places the needle delicately in his fingers, unconsciously scooting closer so she can see his work.
"I wasn't serious?" he says with a lopsided grin, but she insists by gingerly pushing his wrist towards his clothing.
"Here, I can teach you!"
"Punz, I'll pay you or something next time. I was just kidding," he tries, but she's fixed him with a questioning smile and he visibly gives up at it. He may have her embarassment as an advantage, but he doesn't have her resolution collapsing at every wheedling smile he gives.
She takes his hand and pretends he's totally wearing pants or her nightgown or something even as his freezing bare thigh presses against her foot. 'He's just a boy. And he's just trying to bug you,' she repeats to herself.
He's silent for once as she leads him with sparse instructions through the simple process of sewing, and she's happy to see him relaxing; no longer acquiecing, but actually actively listening to what he had referred to long before it became useful to him as a menial task.
After a bit she props her hands in her lap and animatedly beams at him as he sews, fumbling weirdly and occasionally firing her unamused looks despite how he continues.
"Maybe you can finally keep your pants on if you learn that," she says merrily.
He snorts and more-than-pointedly pulls up the waistband of his undergarment. "I'll try. Seeing you freak out is way too worth it, though."
She leans in to him - it still innocently irks her, but that's all he's been trying to do. That's Jack, her best friend, and she doubt he'll ever change.
She steels herself from not giggling too girlishly, and abruptly jolts forwards to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
However he probably didn't guess that two can play at his game.
She's all too pleased to note a blush pouring across his pale cheeks, flustered for a long moment where they look at each other. She cocks an eyebrow in silent prompting, as if asking if she's gotten back at him.
But then Jack, still blushing like a fool, pulls her towards him and shatters her cocky expression with a full kiss right on her lips.
She stares at him with enormous eyes, and after a second his own ice blue eyes slide open and he grins against her lips.
"You can't beat me at this," he says slyly as he retreats.
Blinking at him, she is surprised to feel her face considerably - well, normal temperature, and she doesn't think it's just because of how close his freezing form is. Actually, originally, that would be the chief reason to make her blush, but she can't find it fazing her after all of this. Like it all cancelled each other out.
She flashes a smile at him. "You should get a mirror."