Chapter Text
MONDAY 4th September
The alarm is what wakes him. Not his phone, no, that would be easy to silence for a few more moments of precious sleep. Instead it is the kitchen smoke alarm that tears through the house, all the way to the attic that Hiccup has claimed as his own room. It’s up out the way of his Father’s anger, but not far enough, he thinks bitterly, trying to drown out the shouting downstairs.
Not to him, no never to him, but to Toothless instead who messes with Stoick each morning the man makes his breakfast. It’s his fault. He seems to think a full English Breakfast, complete with six rashers of bacon, two sausages and two eggs, is a good idea with a starving Czechoslovakian Wolf-dog first thing every single morning.
“Get out,” Hiccup hears, wondering if Toothless was being thrown into the garden or the hallway. A door slams and Hiccup practically feels the house shudder from the force of it.
Stoick had broken plenty of hinges in times of rage, smashed plates and cups too, but he’s never laid a hand on either Boy or Dog. Heck, he hasn’t even spoken to Hiccup since who knows when.
There’s no fear of the larger man with whom Hiccup shares blood ties and nothing more, but still, Hiccup wishes he doesn’t have to clean up the man’s messes every single morning.
Claws on floorboards attract his attention then. Hiccup opens one wary eye, knowing just what he’s about to see. Toothless draws closer, panting with his tongue all floppy and wet. Hiccup barely has a chance to hold his breath before that tongue drags over his face.
“Gah, yeah I’m getting up,” Hiccup said when he pulled away, hands on Toothless to shove the black mass off of him before the dog has plans to join him in the bed and smother him.
Actually, that isn’t a bad idea...
Hiccup’s attempts at suicide are foiled by the morning mail being slotted through the letterbox. Toothless barks loudly before bouncing off to fetch it, or shred it, depending on his mood, leaving Hiccup to dry wash his face and try to gear himself into getting out of bed.
It’s Monday.
Hiccup had spent the entirety of yesterday wishing it not to come, but come it did, hand in hand with a glorious headache that decided light and loud noises were now Hiccup’s worst enemies.
Luckily the noisiest in the house decides he has had enough of being there and leaves, slamming doors on his way out. His truck is as loud as him; the engine an intimidating roar that scares the birds from the trees into a frenzy of noise…
Just what Hiccup’s head needs.
The boy opts for a shower instead of a lie-in, kicking his legs free of the duvet. More specifically leg, because Hiccup only has the one, thanks to a nasty accident that saw him one foot in the grave. That limb takes residency next to his mother.
To an outsider, they’d probably perceive Hiccup’s attitude to be quite cold concerning his birth mother. But she died when he was still breastfeeding, so it’s not like his premature baby brain has too many memories other than a touch of warmth and the smell of her hair.
So no, there’s no sadness when his head regards a woman he’s never known.
There should’ve been resentment instead then. His therapist told him so.
Therapist because Hiccup is a damaged child. Not just in the physical sense that he’s only got one leg to stand on. There’s also the dealings of his own accident.
Because he hadn’t lost leg and mother in the same night. She had breathed her last in a hospital bed after succumbing to Cancer. Cruel and hardly a tear jerker, but the truth.
Hiccup’s own accident was more stupid than poetic, but at least he didn’t get pathetic sympathy when he mentioned “drunk driver” and “Wrong place, wrong time.” Because waiting for the bus wasn’t meant to be difficult, and it was his impatience that had him standing outside it rather than perched on those pathetic slanted bars that does nothing but support your bum for a few seconds before you’re effectively slipping off.
Whatever the reason was, Hiccup wasn’t in the bus shelter, but beside it. The car hit the curb, jumped the roadside and pinned the kid between bonnet and bollard, designed to stop such vehicles ploughing into the bus stop…
Well, whatever.
Hiccup has to wear a prosthetic now, but it’s not weird or anything. At least he qualifies for the Paralympics. Although, Hiccup wasn’t an athlete, didn’t have the mindset for it. He preferred books, game consoles and drawing on his art tablet.
You could tell what kind of kid Hiccup was if you stood in his room, breathing in the Viking Aesthetic of the old custom-designed house. That was Stoick’s choice, but the design of the attic was Hiccup’s to control.
A large plasma TV took up the space above his desk; the surface always impossible to see from the number of drawings, artwork and scraps of design patterns that littered the desk. It’s boxed in by shelving; the left dedicated to books and Pop Vinyl Characters, whilst the right is his game consoles, a mixture of games, DVDs and CDs.
Hiccup doesn’t mind digital downloads and the like, but there’s something about having a physical copy he can touch that gives him a sense of pride as he adds it to his collection.
Above are ring binders and art portfolios of ideas yet to be mapped out. Finished projects are hung around his room; the best framed or stuck up with Blu-tack. There are photographs too; bordering his mirror like a treasure trove of memories every time he checks his reflection.
Half of them are selfies in which Mer and Astrid have photo-bombed him, a few have Toothless always with something in his mouth. The rest are landscapes and pictures he’s snapped as he takes Toothless up to the Nature Reserve.
There’s one on the floor where it has fallen in the night. Hiccup makes a mental note to pin it back up once he gets out of bed. This should be sooner, rather than later.
Hiccup forces himself up. He’s put off waking for too long, enough that it is his phone alarm blaring at him now. It’s playing the “Circle Of Life,” blasting it at full volume; something Astrid had set as a joke, but Hiccup hadn’t been bothered to change.
The comforting numbers of 06:00 tell him he had three hours. Still, he shouldn’t take too long getting ready.
Despite that, Hiccup stayed perched on the end of the bed, waiting for drowsiness to leave him before he headed to his bathroom. Hs shivered in the cool air, but that wouldn’t fool him into wrapping up warm for later…
College.
Worse still, first day of college, and it falls on a friggin Monday of all days.
Monday’s are every teenager’s bane; Hiccup feels no different. However, he held a different view point with his peers when it came to education.
Rather than it being a compulsory part of adolescence, Hiccup sees it as the gateway to his Adulthood. If he succeeds here, he can bid farewell to his Dad and get the hell away from this house. He wants to live his own life, wants to be able to get on with his own plans.
But the Will his mother left in his name demands that Hiccup complete all compulsory education, including College and at least two years of University. It’s a small price to pay for a payout and head start in life.
By the time Hiccup is finished with his shower, Toothless has returned to the Attic. He’s on the bed, gnawing at one of those dental sticks that comes free in the post, along with sponsor application forms. Hiccup already donates to help train Service Dogs, just like Toothless, but however much he pays never seems to be enough for these people.
Toothless barks a greeting but doesn’t drop the bone. Hiccup ruffles the top of his head and sits beside him, drying himself quickly so that he can put on his prosthetic and stop hopping around the room. He’s learnt not to wear the prosthetic in the shower. He can, it’s not like the silicone leg isn’t waterproof, it’s just smooth plastic and wet tiles don’t mix. Hiccup learnt that the hard way.
Next step; clothes. The teen is quick to pull trousers on, forcing himself to ignore the giant difference that separates him from everyone else. His prosthetic isn’t something to be ashamed of, he’s heard that line a thousand times from every doctor, nurse and shrink that wants a check up on his health.
Hiccup doesn’t care, but he knows the looks and judging that comes with it.
And it’s College for fucks sake; kids can be brutal when they want to be.
The prosthetic would be bad enough on its own, but Toothless is coming with him to campus. Immediately that is bright lights and luminous signs to anyone trying to sniff out a weak kid to pick on. And Hiccup would be that weak kid, if his Service Dog wasn’t a fifty eight pound wolf-dog hybrid.
The jeans were joined by a graphic T, then the picture was hidden under a thin green jumper that’s got holes for his thumbs, because why not? It was one of his favourites, and anything was needed to help him make it through this first day.
His new canvas shoes followed, the hem of the skinnies low enough that, even the socks were hidden. Anything to put off everyone finding out the truth for a moment longer.
Toothless is bored of his chew by the time Hiccup has towel-dried his hair. He’s misplaced his comb, or more likely his bud has decided to chew on it, but it’s not the end of the world.
A glance to his watch says two hours, but the boy won’t fall for the temptation of TV, choosing instead to make his bed, grab his pre-packed backpack, double checking it, before throwing in his phone, earphones and extra battery pack, before going to get himself some food.
Toothless races him to the kitchen, sat at the door with a tilted head when Hiccup finally reaches the ground floor. He slings his bag next to the coat rack by the front door before letting Toothless into the kitchen.
The place was a mess.
The coffee machine had exploded, leaving coffee on the side and on the back slab behind. Sludge was even dripping off the bottom of the cupboards above.
Half the drawers were open, the sink piled with a frying pan, cooking utensils and the remnants of a dinner plate.
Hiccup glared at the dishes as if they had chosen to break themselves and splinter the side in the white porcelain. There were plenty left in the cupboard and Stoick would always have more when he returned home from work, so it wasn’t like they wouldn’t be eating off the table for dinner. But that was besides the point.
It was like taking care of his own kid; Hiccup suddenly the Father of a larger, broody and volatile teenager who could only communicate with growls, glares and smashing things.
They didn’t talk anymore.
Stoick didn’t even act as if his son lived with him, under the same roof.
Stoick blamed Hiccup for Valka’s death. Which, totally makes sense because Hiccup is an all powerful God, who thought to screw over the one who bore him, and decided to give her Cancer….
Yeah. That’s totally how the story goes.
In fact, it’s the shitty hospital that used a dirty needle. Dirty needle meant dirty blood, and because of defects at Hiccup’s birth, Valka was already ill and weak. The Cancer took her within the month.
Following lawsuits, court trials and too much therapy for a newlywed man, Stoick was awarded a grand sum of money as compensation for what he called “murder.” Nice big, empty house in which to raise his son.
But then came the drinks and the drive for working, and Hiccup was left to raise himself. He managed. It wasn’t like he knew any different. The two rarely saw one another; Stoick always at work and Hiccup preferring the solace of his bedroom.
If he wasn’t at home, or exercising Toothless, then he was with friends, or at Gobber’s Restaurant for food. Having his Uncle as the owner did miracles for his wallet, and the place became like a second home to him.
Much needed now that Mer and Astrid had bid farewell as they left for their own start in life.
Thinking about Merida and Astrid made Hiccup feel lonely. And then sick, because it reminded him he might have to try and make some new friends to replace them, at his new College.
Hiccup sighed a long sigh, just because he had the time to do so. Then, when Toothless was a little too inquisitive with the coffee sludge and broken shards of not-heat-resistant-glass, Hiccup shooed him outside.
The teen made sure the floor was properly swept and wiped down before Toothless could get shards in his paw pads. He let the dog back in, filled his bowl and helped himself to toast and an energy drink. Something light on the stomach for his first day.
Hiccup had wanted to put off eating entirely, but that was just stupid, and although he felt like he was going to puke from nerves, he knew he actually wouldn’t. So breakfast was accepted, eaten quickly by both boy and dog so they’d be ready to leave.
Bussing it was always an option, but Hiccup would prefer not having eyes on him as he made his way to the College grounds. Besides, it was dry, decently warm weather for a September morning, and Toothless hadn’t been given the luxury of a long walk yesterday while Hiccup contended with his nerves about today.
At the door, Hiccup buckled Toothless into his “Helper Uniform,” dressing Toothless in the red harness, preferring it over the luminous, high-vis one he was normally meant to wear. It wasn’t like Hiccup needed any help with standing out, but he certainly wasn’t going to try.
The red harness still had the words “service dog” in white writing down the sides and a serial code, and the name of the training organisation that helped fund his training so it wasn’t like the red harness wasn’t allowed.
“We’re in this together bud, aren’t we,” Hiccup said as he knelt beside Toothless. He got three tail wags and a cocked head, but it was more than enough, before Hiccup looped his arms around the dog’s neck, burying his face into his mane, breathing in the rich, earthy smell that always calmed his nerves.
But this morning, it was less effective than Hiccup liked.
It was hard not to check his backpack for a third time, and Hiccup wasn’t able to overcome the need, slipping the strap off his shoulder to he could check it one last time: textbooks, laptop, camera, pens, paper pad, glasses, charger, battery pack, earphones. A second bag, one that was to remain in the car, had food for Toothless.
Hiccup shoved his phone, wallet and keys into his pocket, clipping Toothless up with the leash on his harness and they left together with a slam of the door.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hiccup regretted eating breakfast for the entire walk to College campus. His stomach was entertaining itself, pretending to be on a roller coaster as Hiccup navigated the forest path. Either that, or it was imitating what it was like to eat a thousand butterflies.
Perfect.
Absolutely, bloody perfect.
Hiccup and Toothless neared the edge of the forest, the dirt path slowly turning from earth to stones. On a normal day, when Toothless wasn’t buckled into his harness, Hiccup would kick them for his bud to chase, but today he couldn’t.
Hiccup needed Toothless near him, feeling his anxiety spike when feet hit tarmac and they were on the main road. Other pedestrians were walking in the same direction, all similar ages to Hiccup. They were going to college too.
The teen avoided their looks, knowing he’d be getting a lot more attention when he was finally on campus. Toothless would take it in his stride; the little shit adoring it when girls fawned over him. Another problem was the fact Toothless would act like a bridge; an excuse for people to talk to Hiccup and ideally provide the opportunity to make friends.
Easier for other people, but not so good for Hiccup, who was in two minds about turning around and spending the rest of the day playing hooky in bed.
Hiccup’s window of opportunity was rapidly shrinking, and by the time he was climbing the steps of Berk Academy, he knew he had missed his chance.
There were swarms of people in groups all milling about out front; some entering the building quietly, others nosily chatting on phones asking where people were, trying to meet up before first period. They were lucky. They already had friends.
Hiccup marched straight through the middle. Or more so, meekly walked with his head focused on the doors, completely ignoring the turns of heads at the “holy shit, is that a wolf?”
“Dude, he’s got a wolf with him!”
“Hey, hey go talk to him!”
Yeah… no thanks.
Hiccup managed to get inside the main building without anyone calling out to him, although inside was just as packed, and just as quickly; Hiccup and Toothless were the center of attention.
Staying still would get him caught, so Hiccup did the opposite of that. He pulled Toothless alongside him, taking the first corridor on the left. He walked quickly, knowing exactly what room to go to.
So he didn’t look like an idiot, Hiccup had memorised the campus map so he knew how to get to Tutor and all of his other classes, save him burying his face in a map all day and look just that much more of an incapable idiot.
And just in case he forgot, Hiccup had a picture of it saved on his phone.
Tutor wasn’t actually in this building, this was just the main building full of offices and staff resource outlets. Hiccup’s tutor was in the creative department on the other side of the campus. But then again, so were pretty much all of his classes. Lucky for Hiccup, they seemed to be all in the same place.
Hiccup started down the corridor, saying a silent prayer to whoever and the emptiness it held. He felt himself relax a little, hoping today wasn’t going to be too bad of a day, hopefully not make any embarrassing memories and the like.
He was wondering how long it took him to walk to campus, digging his phone out his pocket to look at the time, when BAM!
Hiccup was flat on his ass on the corridor floor.
Hiccup looked up, shocked at first, until he saw the culprit sat opposite him, wincing as he rubbed his butt. Toothless was whining, nudging Hiccup with his nose with curiosity. Then, deeming him okay after being shoved off, the Wolf-Dog made it his business to nose about the other person that had knocked his friend flying. He managed to get his nose right in the guy’s face before Hiccup realised what Toothless was doing, pulling on the dog’s harness, trying to get him back before he could climb all over the boy.
“I’m so sorry,” Hiccup blurted in panic, at blame for not looking where he was going, although his main focus right now is fighting Toothless because he’s actually not listening, trying to get his nose into the guys bag and “no Toothless don’t do that.”
Hiccup apologised again, his chest cold, ears burning from embarrassment, but the other guy was laughing.
“Sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going,” he said with a grin, one hand petting Toothless on his brow, the other supporting his body as he tried to get up. He was…. Nice to say the least.
Thin body, muscles peeking out between trouser band and the lift of his graphic T from where he’s fallen. A nest of feathered hair, brilliant white sits atop his head, and Hiccup’s struggling not to stare because it’s as white as his teeth, as if the guy models for some toothpaste advert or something.
But the most entrancing features are his eyes: Light blue, with just a hint of grey, like snow clouds on a mountain top. Glistening slightly, red in the corners from the chill of being outside in the brisk wind with nothing but a thin shirt and no jacket.
Hiccup caught himself staring just a little bit too long, the blush getting a recharge when the boy’s own cheeks dusted pink. He laughed nervously, turning attention to Toothless again, who was still fighting Hiccup’s pull on his harness.
Hiccup is apologising again, saying he’s usually good and not like this, but the guy just shrugs. “He’s probably after my food. I haven’t had a chance to eat my breakfast yet.”
There’s a louder sound of snuffling and both turn horrified as Toothless practically inhales the cheese and bacon grilled sandwich, paper wrapping and all.
“Toothless!” Hiccup had second to grab the plastic before that was swallowed, but all the sandwich was gone and “oh my god I’m so sorry, he’s just really greedy,” Hiccup repeated, feeling like he’s about to have a full on panic attack. And Toothless was meant to help him with all this anxiety and shit, but the damn dog is the cause for it all.
And now the guy is laughing at him.
He’s hot, the sound is cute, but Hiccup would rather be ten foot under than here in this empty-except-for-themselves corridor.
“I’m sorry,” the brunet tries again, and he sounds absolutely pathetic. Suddenly the other guy stops. “Hey, woah, dude I’m not angry. I don’t care about the sandwich. Okay, I’m annoyed I didn’t get to eat it, but that’s my fault for not going for it sooner.” His hand is patting Toothless on the top of his head, who stand with his tongue out, panting happily, as if he doesn’t realise he’s done something wrong.
“Was it good hey? I’m glad you liked it.”
“I’ll replace it,” Hiccup says, because Gobber taught him you’ve got to make up for mistakes, even if you didn’t mean to make them. And although Toothless was the one to eat the sandwich, Hiccup’s going to take responsibility for it.
“Don’t worry about it,” the other guy says, and he’s climbing to his feet before Hiccup can insist. There’s a hand, offered to help pull Hiccup to his feet. Correctly: foot, but the guy doesn’t need to know that.
“Sorry for knocking you over. We’ll call it quits about the sandwich for that then….” his sentence trailing off. “Ah, uh, Hiccup,” Hiccup says, hands tightening around his dog’s leash and now, fucking finally, Toothless perks up that Hiccup’s not feeling great. He pushes his body against him, nuzzling the boy’s leg, but not enough to unbalance him.
The white-haired teen has an eyebrow raised. “Hiccup? That’s your name? Like, seriously?”
Hiccup just nodded, feeling his cheeks blush as he stares at his toes. This was also another reason why he hated talking to people: He had to tell them his fucking name.
Stoick and Valka had met with the mutual love of the Viking aesthetic, both from very traditional families, and they thought they’d include Hiccup on that wondrous tradition.
The Haddock family had in fact descended from two lines of Viking Warriors and ‘Hiccup’ was a traditional Viking name… for weaklings and pushovers. It wasn’t his fault he was born prematurely, nor that he was a sick, weedy baby, but the Viking Tradition stood, and Hiccup was named. His mother had thought it endearing however, yet neither she nor Stoick seemed too concerned on the views of normal children, who thought ‘Hiccup’ was the perfect name to take the piss out of.
Hiccup pulled Toothless closer, slipping an arm around himself quickly as if a cold breeze had blown over him. He waited for the stupid laughter, the sly jab of an insult and was already regretting talking to this perfect white-haired being. Why did he have to have a stupid name? Why couldn’t he just have made something up, like Hamish or Harry?
God, even something like Harold was a better choice than Hiccup.
“Hey that’s awesome! At least you don’t have to worry about other people having the same name as you.”
Hiccup looked up, eyes scanning the boy’s face for something teasing or spiteful. There was none.
“Wait,” he said slowly, still not sure if this was a set up and camera crews were about to jump out and the entire school would start laughing at him. “You’re not going to laugh or say it’s stupid or-”
“Why would I?” The guy tilts his head, looking over the way Hiccup’s trying to close himself off. His energy levels are brought back down, and the boy smiles again.
It’s genuine.
“It’s a cool name. Nearly as cool as mine,” he said with a glint in his eye, bringing his hands up, opening them wide as if he was showing some giant imaginary sign with flashing lights, like what you’d see in Las Vegas. “Jack Frost! How cool is that?”
“Like the guy who brings the Winter?” Hiccup asked, wondering if ‘Jack’ was now lying to him.
“Well it’s actually Jackson Overland Frost, double barrel name if you’re being picky,” he said a little dejectedly, his arms dropping back down to his sides, a thumb sitting in the pocket of his jean and yeah, he’s definitely a model, just look at him.
“But I think ‘Jack Frost’ sounds a lot cooler!”
Hiccup snorted. “Yeah or people could just call you Snowflake.” His face was instantly the colour of a stop sign, a hand up to cover his mouth because the damn think-to-speak filter wasn’t working. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Too late now though.
Great way to make friends, he scolded himself. Insult them straight away.
Wait. Was that what he was doing? Making friends? But before Hiccup could figure out if that was in fact what he was he doing, Jack was speaking. “Well I haven’t heard that one.” And he began to laugh. Openly and loudly, with an infectious smile that caused Hiccup to laugh as well. Toothless looked between them, head cocked as if he was trying to decide what was so funny, when suddenly the bell rang, to indicate it was nine o’clock.
“Well, see you around Hiccup,” Jack said, lifting his satchel bag further onto his shoulder, giving a quick wave before continuing on down the corridor, pulling out his phone; the reason the boys hadn’t seen one another and smashed into each other in the first place.
For a second, Hiccup watched him go.
But then came the crowds of other students, hurrying to their tutors, urging Hiccup and Toothless to their own. It was on the first floor of the creative department, meaning there was no unnecessary obstacle of stairs. Not that Hiccup wasn’t able to climb them, (he lived in the attic of his own house, he was bloody well used to them), but that little tick of laziness in him smiled.
He was smiling himself, allowing mind to wander back to the hottie that was “Jack Frost.”
This was neither the time nor place to get excited about a guy, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
Plainly: Hiccup was gay.
He’d sort of figured it out over the last few years. It explained why he never had any of those thoughts for girls and just guys instead. The first clue had been when Snot had brought a dirty and pretty explicit magazine to school to show off.
Rather than excited, Hiccup had been disgusted. He had discussed it with Astrid; the girl, mature herself, already open and accepting of her own orientation. She had told him it was normal, and that he just wasn’t ready for a girlfriend yet.
So Hiccup ignored the thought poking at his inner brain, until 8th Grade; when all his friends decided to hold a summer party at the beach.
And Beaches usually meant that there were bare chests and legs on show; tight bulges and plump asses under thin layers of polyester swimming trunks.
That’s when Hiccup realised he was only watching the boys in Speedos.
That was the second clue.
The third was answered to the name of Eret. He was Hiccup’s first crush.
The only other two people that tasty morsel of gossip was Hiccup’s closest friends: Astrid, and Merida, his cousin.
He wished them both with him now, but their future lay on different paths, Astrid leaving for the Archipelago and it’s Military Base, whereas Merida had been whisked away to the North with her family, following her Father’s promotion.
Both found it perfectly acceptable Hiccup was attracted to boys, although neither approval gave him much hope for being “out,” the decision there to save himself from ridicule of… less-accepting persons.
Still, with them he felt normal, and regularly they’d gossip about the boys considering the three of them shared tastes. The girls were mindful of Hiccup, knowing that finding a boyfriend was harder for him. Everything would’ve been fine for Hiccup if he had them both to hang out with in College. But alas, life likes to challenge him, and he’s on his own.
Though, trying to befriend Jack wasn’t bad idea….
The college bell rung again, just when Hiccup reached his Tutor door.
He wasn’t the first to arrive; some of the desks inside already taken up by other students. Sat at the front, behind her own desk was the Tutor, later to be introduced as Tatiana.
She was more than Hiccup was expecting.
With soft tanned skin and dark brown hair, highlighted with an array of bright colours in her pixie cut, the women was the embodiment of happiness, herself a bird of paradise. Feathers of tattoos littering her skin in wonderful artwork, some making sense, others perhaps not to those that don’t know the reasoning’s behind them.
She wore literal feathers too: hanging from her ears like wind chimes that swayed and danced when she turned to greet more students.
The Tutor period was going to be an hour: twice as long as usual so that everyone had a chance to talk to each other and get to know each other. Make friends, blah blah, the usual helpful things teachers did so you weren’t the loner idiot in class.
Hiccup got plenty of attention.
Correction. Toothless got plenty of attention, although the kids in class had enough sense not to ask the story behind “Why?”
After initial introduction, the class split into the usual groups. There were the boys on one side, talking about which girls they had dibs on and there were the girls bitching about boys, celebrities and mainly each other whilst comparing outfits and fashion tips.
Hiccup and Toothless had claimed themselves a desk in the corner on a semi-mixed table where he was making small talk with a girl called Cassie. She was easy to talk with, and the two hours passed quickly, and although Cassie now and again steered conversation back to Toothless, possibly hoping to get Hiccup to tell her the truth, he was quick to divert the conversation direction. She picked up the hint soon enough, and small talk resumed.
When the bell rang, Tatiana pretty much flew to the front of the class, everyone else taking the cue to pack their things and head to the next class. “I’ll see you all at lunch registration. Don’t be late,” she teased as everyone filed out.
Hiccup and Toothless were the last out, reigniting the whispers that followed them down the corridor and into D Block. His next lesson, or more so, meet-and-greet, was Photography. The “lesson” wasn’t too bad, much like Tutor.
Hiccup was ignored more so in this lesson, but that was easier than playing at the socialising game. It’s not even Lunch and he’s tired. All they did was introduce themselves and play games to get to know one another.
The teacher, Manny, was pretty cool, playing around and showing off his camera collection.
It wasn’t until first break did Hiccup feel the full weight of a fresh start. Not having a familiar face to hang with, apart from his bud, the teen was left to explore the rest of the campus, sipping from a bottle of water he had grabbed from a vending machine he found. He couldn’t help but keep one eye on lookout for Jack and his noticeable white hair as he wandered, running scenarios of letting Toothless free for a second and get him to run the boy down. It would be like a “Rom-Com” second meeting, and Hiccup would get the chance to offer, once again, to pay him back for his breakfast.
Sneaky, using his bud as his wingman but hey, he was a Service Dog, Toothless had more than one use other than bodyguard and walking comforter.
After a trip around the campus, and without spotting the white-haired hottie, Hiccup found himself a quiet spot on campus; on the bank beside the pond, that was in the main stretch of outdoors between the Gymnasium and the Music Theatre. There were trees dotted to one side and a small planned garden at the other where friends had already set themselves up.
Another group of college attendees had taken residence on the wall by the path, leaving Hiccup a small dry patch of dead grass near the trees, taking shelter in the shade on an unusually hot September day. He drank his water and pulled out his phone, busying himself with skimming Pinterest while Toothless sniffed about him, free for the moment but close enough to return at a beckoning call.
The boy checked his own online blog, simultaneously hooking his over-ear headphones from his bag as he did. He slipped them on, nudging the right one off kilter so he could hear the bell, and hit shuffle, listening to Jumpstart : These Kids Wear Crowns play through the tiny speakers. Now and again, noise would call the boy to look up, where he’d watch the crowds milling by. But after a few times, Hiccup just jammed the Volume Up button and went back to his mobile.
Toothless got bored of exploring and settled beside him, content to let Hiccup pet and stroke him while they waited for the grass to grow.
Hiccup was too busy flicking through his pictures he didn’t notice a bunch of boys slowly getting closer. That was quite remarkable because they were literally in front of him, laughing loudly and trying to push each other into the pond.
Not even Toothless raised his head to give them the stink-eye, more tired than he let on from having a “busy” day of work.
“Well if it isn’t little Toothpick.”
Hiccup looked up, the voice horrifyingly familiar over the sound of his music. The person of which the voice belonged was familiar as well, and Hiccup was left looking up at the face of Dagur Range.
A boy with whom Hiccup shared a complicated relationship with. They were ‘Bully’ and ‘Victim,’ ‘Tutor’ and ‘Student’…. And ex-boyfriends.
‘Boyfriends’ was perhaps the wrong term.
More like ‘dick’ and ‘hole,’ but every act of sex between the pair was consensual. Hiccup had every opportunity to say no.
But Hiccup being Hiccup, had been curious. He knew he was gay, and it was almost a good opportunity that he didn’t pass up. And then he was hooked. The only problem was his choice in partner.
There was never so much as an actual relationship. Just the notion that the two needed something, where each could provide something the other wanted. Not that Hiccup ever wanted to make love to Dagur; it had started as drunken curiosity, the idiot he was, got drunk one time and was a dirty flirt.
Dagur, shocked at the weedy boy’s provocative-ness had shown interest and politely invited him into his bed. It was probably more of a “sex friends” kind of relationship, although booty-call or number-of-kid-to-screw-when-I-fail-at-pulling-a-girl-at-the-club was closer to the mark.
Hiccup provided the “in,” Dagur provided himself to fill a craving that had awakened inside the Brunet.
To everyone else, they ignored each other. Behind closed doors however, it was a different story.
One that changed and evolved over time, as Dagur got more and more comfortable with drilling a guy. The bruises got larger, they stayed longer and were harder to hide.
And Hiccup had had enough. He’d cut ties with Dagur, enrolled into Berk Academy and put the boy in his past with every other regret.
So why was he here now?
The boy clambered to his feet, two hands tight on Toothless’s leash as the dog stood between him and the boys. Hiccup didn’t know them, but that didn’t matter. If they were Dagur’s friends, they were bad news, just like him.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Dagur crooned, stepping away from his friends, halting only at the hackles raised from Toothless. He didn’t like the boy, but at Hiccup’s command had never sunk his teeth into meaty flesh. A quick flick back over his shoulder told the dog that command was wavering.
“I thought you were going to work for your dad,” Hiccup said quickly, brain caught on the “why is he here?”
“Tried it over the summer. Got bored,” Dagur supplied with an indifferent shrug. “I was thinking about you too,” he said, stalking closer. “I knew you’d be lonely without me, so I enrolled too. Now we get to see each other every day.”
Hiccup took a step back at the thinly disguised threat, knowing Dagur wanted payback for his toy ditching him.
It was then that the bell rang, saving Hiccup’s ass. Literally.
“Well, good to see you. I’m going that way,” he said, skipping back, tugging Toothless along before Dagur could stop him. He gladly took the escape route given to him, cringing internally as he realised just what it meant that his ex was in the same school.
His abusive, bully of an ex, who knew most of Hiccup’s secrets and could destroy his life all over again with just a few couple of rumours.
Fucking hell.