[ Jack smooths his palm down a cheek, all the way along to a warm neck where Hiccup's circulation will cool down a lot faster if more blood is pumping under a cold compress. He can't help a soft snort. ]

Poor you, relegated to being adorably pissed off all day. A fate worse than death, arguably, I don't know how you do it.

[ Maybe the little kisses he plants over his face will help. ]