And Then I Met You

by Dragonire

Summary:

Hiccup planned to attend College, pass his subjects and move onto University, away from a disapproving father and the stress of what he calls his life. It’s going to be hard considering all his friends opted for different Colleges, but he’ll focus on school work and a part-time job, no biggie. Things begin to change though, when Hiccup bumps into Jack. Literally bumps into him in the hallway. That’s not how they become proper friends though, that is the second time they meet. They hit it off really well and they’re practically brothers by the end of first week. But Hiccup has to watch his feelings of friendship don’t evolve into more or he’ll lose one of those most precious to him. Things get complicated when his abusive ex-boyfriend turns up out of the blue, looking to rekindle the one-sided affair. If Hiccup doesn’t comply, then Dagur will destroy his life, or at least his friendship with Jack. To save Jack and himself from ridicule, Hiccup accepts. But Dagur’s an abusive shit that likes to lay his fists into Hiccup too many times and it doesn’t take Jack long to notice something is going on. And the best friend who he’s crushing on isn’t exactly good at lying to him….

 

Discontinued

Chapter 1: And So Begins The Rest Of My Life

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.

Chapter 2: Uh Oh, Hottie Alert At One O'clock

Summary:

After realising Dagur was going to be attending college too, Hiccup was beginning to regret his previous positive outlook on his future. He’s not wallowing long however, before a certain white-haired hottie dubs the two of them as friends. As first days go, Hiccup’s is actually pretty good. The Rest Of His Life is looking up.

MONDAY 4th September

Third period was Art.
And by chance, the room was that same for Tutor. Ergo, Tatiana was his Art Teacher.

It was easier walking into class than the morning, happy to see his already dubbed-desk was clear. Hiccup marched over, dumping his bag with a sigh, sliding in as Toothless laid his head on the boy’s lap.

Slowly, the remaining class arrived, many holding print-out maps so they could navigate their way to their rooms. They filed in, one by one through the small little door and Hiccup’s shoulder sagged. All girls.
Tatiana followed in behind them, talking to several as if they were on close terms already. She beamed at Hiccup who smiled back; wondering if all of his luck had run out this morning and now everything was running rapidly downhill. It certainly felt that way.

The bell rang again and Tatiana told everyone to take up seats and arrange themselves into a semi-circle. It was about this point when one of them squealed out “puppy,” pointing at the too-big-to-be-a-puppy with delight.
“Oh he’s cute,” the girl trilled, calling everyone else’s attention to Toothless. They petted him – after asking Hiccup’s permission of course – then Tatiana was calling for order and to get on with setting out the room. The girls sorted it out themselves, rearranging the desks several times so that friends could sit together.
Hiccup and Toothless got prized place in the middle of the horseshoe, the girls even giving Toothless his own desk as a joke. The dog was happy to sit on the chair and lay his head on the table; the living embodiment of Mondays.

“Right eyes front,” Tatiana said loudly when everyone returned to talking. “I’ve got stuff to hand out first and things to tell you before I forget. Then we’ll do introductions.”
But before Tatiana could delegate students to hand out the resources, the classroom door swung open quickly.

Hiccup, along with everyone else, stared at the newcomer that was stood in the doorway.
He was panting slightly, doubled over, keeping himself upright with arms locked against his knees. It looked like he had just run a marathon, supporting himself so he didn’t tumble forward into a mess of limbs. “Sorry ‘m late,” he breathed out quickly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
The boy had his head down, face hidden, but Hiccup knew exactly who was underneath that bright-white fringe.

Jack Frost looked up with a grin, flashing everyone a cheeky smile, before it dropped and he sucked in a deep breath of air again.
Tatiana was smiling at him with a mixture of emotions on her face. “Mr Frost I assume. I was wondering where you had got to.”
“Yeah sorry— shit cramp,” he wheezed, clutching his side with a half-attempted smile, a quick glance to those sitting nearest to him. He had a look on his face similar to Merida’s before she pulled a prank on an unsuspecting victim.

Hiccup hid his own grin behind a hand as he watched one of the girls in the class giggle, pulling her top down slightly to make her cleavage a bit more revealing than it had been a few seconds prior. “Why are you so out of breath?” she asked in her girly trill, pushing her arms together to make her bust seem more prominent.
Her friends giggled around her at what she was doing, some copying, others hiding their faces as if they were too embarrassed to watch.
All of them shared a hungry expression, like a pack of lions would before closing in for the kill.
Frosty was screwed.

“Running,” Frost answered once he had his breath back, shifting his satchel more onto his shoulder. “Needed to… to help my sister…” He managed to get his breath back to normal breathing, although his voice was tight like his mouth was dry. “I was eating whilst I ran back to College. Don’t do it, it’s not a good idea.”
“Where were you then?”
At that point, Tatiana stepped forward. “Now now, we can get to talking later. Let me hand everything out, and we’ll get round to in-depth introduction,” she said, her scowl obviously fake. She nods to the chair of which Toothless has now abandoned, preferring to nap underneath Hiccup’s chair. “Jack, take a seat at the back.”
Jack nodded, babbling another quick apology about interrupting before navigating his way to the back. Hiccup watched; admiring Frost’s slim but sporty physique. Hiccup did not imagine the boy on the swim team. Not in a pair of speedos or anything. Of course not.
Oh shit, he was crushing really hard.

And he was coming over here.
Oh shit, oh shit, ohfuckingshitonastick—

Hiccup ducked his head for a second, praying that the heat on his cheeks was imaginary and he was not flushing like the others, but knew that probably wasn’t the case. Toothless gave a disgruntled rumble from beneath his chair, rolling his eyes because his Human has gone into heat.

It was then that Jack spotted Hiccup, the smile on his face getting a recharge. “Hiccup! Hey, I didn’t think we’d be in the same class.” Jack bounded over the last two steps, grin practically ear to ear as he slipped into the chair.
He spoke like the two of them were old friends, perhaps meeting by chance after months of radio silence. Hiccup was surprised, but that wasn’t a bad thing, supplying his own grin to the boy. “Neither I,” he said, ignoring the murmuring from the rest of the girls in class.

Toothless regarded Jack with a look over his shoulder, but no command from Hiccup and he laid his head back down, back pressed to Hiccup’s legs.

Jack pulled off his satchel, dropping it to one side before digging out himself a bottle of water. The boy had all eyes on him as he downed half of it, throwing his head up in the air, so his slightly pointed chin was lifted to reveal a tight, yet slender neck.

Hiccup took the opportunity to give him another once-over, trying not to be too obvious as he silently praised Jack for choosing shorts. The weather permitted it, and Hiccup thanked that too.
He ogled the slim legs and slim arms, the dancing Adam’s apple that taunted him with every mouthful the white-haired teen swallowed. And he was pretty sure he was imagining those water droplets running down his skin and wetting the collar of his top and... Oh.

Oh shit.

Hiccup turned away with a scowl, wanting to claw at his head. He admonished himself, acting thirsty and fucking horny, because he’s watching some guy drink water. Just drinking water!
A more acceptable reason for a hard-on would be seeing Jack stood in the rain, his white top practically see-through as it sticks to slick wet skin, head leant back, eyes closed as the rain washed over him. Or perhaps naked in the shower, rubbing himself sensually with the loofah, steam curling off his body tinged red from the heat so high, steam not quite concealing his dick that hangs— OH MY GOD!

Hiccup pinched his nose. Now is not the time, stop it!

Toothless noticed Hiccup’s distress, a whine in the back of his throat as he came to sit beside his bud. A paw lay on his leg, another whine to which Hiccup rubbed the top of his head. “I’m good,” he told him, a quick hand signal to tell him to lie back down. Toothless obeyed.

Tatiana was talking again, so no one noticed Toothless’s signals. She was trying to keep the attention of the class when they weren’t too busy turning back to look at Jack. Hiccup noticed some of the girls had shuffled closer in their seats; eyes trained on the beautiful sacrificial offering that had been thrown into their midst. And not the scrawny nerdy freckled teen who was too shy to say anything.

It was one of the few times that Hiccup actually felt a little thankful to the fact that he liked guys instead. That meant that he wouldn’t have to deal with all the feelings of being ignored by them romantically, nor would he have the problems of falling for them.
No, you have to go and fall for guys. Because that is so much easier to deal with than being normal and liking a girl and getting your heartbroken by a girl and not…

For Hiccup, he accepted he wasn’t meant to find love. In a few years, maybe, when he was older. Maybe in University, probably several cities away when he went to the clubs and had enough alcohol in his system to kiss a guy, then perhaps he might meet someone.
For now, he just had to focus on making friends and passing college with a high enough grades he can get into his choice of Universities, away from Dad, away from his problems….

Stoick didn’t know about Hiccup being gay. That was just one line he would never cross.
Hiccup had no idea how he would react, but knew the man well enough to know it would be bad. He’d heard enough insults thrown to celebrity stars, open and proud of their orientation, listened to plenty of tirades about right and wrong to know his Dad’s views on the subject.
If Stoick ever found out, being disowned would be the least of Hiccup’s worries. Throwing him out, never speaking to him again and severing all ties. Gobber would cast him out as well, probably only left with Merida and her family. They wouldn’t take him in though; they’ve just had triplets, their family big enough.

Art class was a wonderful distraction from Hiccup’s problem. So was Jack.
The ogling of said Adonis preoccupied most of the class’s attention, (Hiccup’s included) as they silently tried to catch his eye (Hiccup excluded). One of the girls complained about the heat, slipping off unnecessary layers, however thin they may have been, despite the blush of goose bumps on her arms. Other girls copied her whilst others pulled their t-shirt straps down to reveal more skin. It was so obvious that Hiccup found himself smirking.
And a little upset that his crush was now the centre of attention.
Hiccup scowled to himself. Frosty wasn’t his crush. Yeah, so he had a crush on him —formed in those precious few seconds he had seen the boy and spoken a few words— but so, it seemed, did everyone else.

“With that done,” Tatiana said, “you can chat amongst yourselves and get to know one another. You’ve got until the bell so knock yourselves out.” She made herself busy with handing out materials, the room instantly noisy once more now everyone had been given the go-ahead to talk to themselves.
Hiccup half expected them to rush the boys in hopes to get Jack’s full name or number or something, but no one moved from their chairs.

“Hey,” Frost said suddenly, sitting forward to lean on his desk, his head resting on one arm, head towards Hiccup. It took him a moment to realise Jack was trying to get his attention. He already had it, but Hiccup wasn’t about to let the boy know just exactly where his head was ten minutes ago.

“Hey yourself,” Hiccup smiled, shifting nervously. It roused Toothless again, the dog lifting his head to watch. Hiccup commanded he lie down again, keeping himself and his bud calm.
Jack noticed the motion, cocking his head. “He’s well trained.”
“Has to be, if not he can’t be here,” Hiccup supplied, petting Toothless with pride. “He has his moments though, when he gets too excited. But he’s been gold all morning, so College might be a cinch for him.”
“He does have it easy. He’s got a jail out of free card when it comes to uncompleted homework.”

Hiccup grinned at that, turning a smirk over. “So have I really. Toothless has a sweet-tooth for homework.”
“And bacon and cheese toastys.”
The boy’s comment made Hiccup blanch, guilt in his stomach again as he began to apologise, but Jack was just laughing. “Dude it was a joke, I honestly don’t care.” Jack didn’t look annoyed; much like he had this morning when the two had smashed into one another. Hiccup calmed a little.

The two hit it off quite well. Their conversation first started off about College and their courses. Easy to talk about and a decent enough ice breaker.
Not that they needed one, they pretty much smashed that wall when they ran into it. And each other.

The subject of college wasn’t long discussed; a quick rundown of their courses and what they wanted from them. Jack didn’t really have an idea what he wanted to do after College, neither in it apparently. He admitted to accepting courses he liked; he played guitar so that’s why he chose music, he liked drawing and painting, hence Art, and he liked watching films hence Media Studies.
Jack was only taking Physical Education because he had gotten into Berk Academy on a scholarship – something about moving house for his Dad’s business and not wanting to move out of the house so soon.
The scholarship also meant Jack acquired a position on the College’s football team. Jack wasn’t particularly focused on football and didn’t follow teams or matches and stuff, but Hiccup quickly learnt that Jack was very competitive. Football seemed like it would be a good sport for him.

Hiccup’s subjects (Art, Photography, Computer Design and Media) would help him set up his future of working in animation, or perhaps an artist, or direct and produce movies or music videos.
Literally anything where he could be creative.

It turned out that the boys shared the same Media class which mean that they would being seeing each other more than they had initially thought, a bonus for the freckled idiot who could keep his mind out the gutter all the whilst Jack talked.

Conversation slowed when Tatiana came round, handing out a few artist sketch pads (An A5 field Journal and two A4 sketch pads) for homework and such just in case anyone hadn’t bought their own – Hiccup actually wasn’t surprised when Jack admitted he hadn’t.
As a warm up exercise, everyone’s assignment for the week was to cover their books so that they’d be unique and easily recognisable. Hiccup smiled at that. He would’ve done so anyway but now he could put in that little bit more effort and make it not look like he was trying too hard… Probably something with dragons…

“Aww man, homework already?” Jack moaned, but Hiccup could see the corner of his mouth twitching upwards and knew he was only mucking about. He was quickly beginning to understand that Jack adored the persona of “Class Clown.” At least everything would be mildly interesting from now on.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THURSDAY 7th September

The morning bell rang, interrupting Jack’s re-enactment of last night’s zombie attack on ‘Dead Walkers.’ Jack loved the show and mocked offense when Hiccup admitted to never really having seen it. Which was actually a lie, considering he, sort-of, already tried to. But it was better lying to him than telling Jack he got scared easily.
Astrid and Merida had tried to get him to watch it once before, but with their promises of gore and people ripped from limb to limb; Hiccup hadn’t made it through the opening scene. He really didn’t do horror.

But a fool in love is a fool nonetheless, and Hiccup (like the fool he was) didn’t decline Jack’s offer when he invited Hiccup round to watch all of the previous seasons in some sort of zombie-fest marathon. But no, he told himself, I’m doing this because we’re friends and it’ll be nice to actually have some friends.

“I don’t mind if you want to come to mine instead. I doubt your parents will want Toothless in your house,” Hiccup said after watching his bud eat up the rest of his mid-morning kibble snack. Jack scrunched his face up in mock confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course he’s coming with us. You can’t have Batman without Robin!” Hiccup sniggered into his sleeve. “Okay, then who are you?”
Jack struck a sexy pose. “Cat woman.”

Hiccup tried not to hack up a lung at the joke, trying to avert his mind from Jack in spandex. “How about you just be Iceman and I’ll be Angel.”
“Going for the Marvel universe hey? Then I want to be Deadpool.”
“Fine, I’m Spiderman.”

“But all jokes aside, you’re both welcome round and we’ll binge watch the Dead Walkers,” Jack said, packing his books into his satchel as Hiccup put his own stuff in his backpack. They had already marvelled each other’s drawings that seemed to cram the front of their sketch books that was Monday’s Homework.

“Your idea of ‘soon’ is halfway through the lesson,” Hiccup mumbled, mainly to himself as he pulled out his phone to check his next lesson, not listening to Jack who had begun another rant. Thursday’s for him meant only Art, first thing in the morning. With three ‘free study’periods to follow, Hiccup technically had the rest of the day to do whatever the hell he wanted. That something was homework though, glancing at the roughly jotted note on his Phone calendar reminding him Media wanted a complete run down of his film choice’s camera dynamics.
Art also had an assignment, but he had wanted to talk to Tatiana about it, but she was busy talking to Red, dubbed so by her badly dyed hair, the two obviously not on the same wavelength, if Hiccup could tell by anything other than Tatiana’s exasperated sigh. Talking could wait.

Hiccup turned to Jack, to bid him farewell before dashing to the Campus Study Hall and grabbing a computer somewhere near the printers, when the boy spoke first. “What have you got next?”
“A free,” Hiccup answered, following Toothless as he led out of the classroom. “I was going-”
“Same,” Jack grinned, spinning on the ball of his foot to face Hiccup. He kept walking backwards however, somehow managing to avoid the flow of students who were heading to their next lesson.

“Hey let’s go eat. I know it’s not even Break yet, but I’m already starving,” Jack suggested, hand rifling through his satchel that was precariously swinging on his shoulder. “No breakfast?”
“No time.”

Jack kept digging through his satchel when suddenly, his smile slipped. It was rare for Hiccup to see the boy without a smile. Concern filled his voice. “What’s wrong?”
And eyes wide and serious, the boy spoke. “I forgot my lunch.”
Anyone would’ve thought Jack had proclaimed the end of Earth with the way he spoke about his lack of food. But Hiccup just started laughing, not unkindly so.

“Canteen?” he suggested. Jack shook his head. “It doesn’t look too appealing,” he grumbled, now fishing for his wallet. “I don’t live around here,” he said, mainly to himself, counting the spare change in his zipper pocket, “so I don’t really know where everything is.”
He spun on his heel again, slowing down to walk beside Hiccup as they reached outside, moving out the way of the throng of students trying to get to their next class. “Do you know where the closest shop is?”
“Nearest is the corner store just up the road. But that’s a newsagent; they only do sweets, no proper food.”

Jack grimaced, muttering something about a “Pizza Delivery” and how he wishes he had a car.

“There is a diner about ten minutes up the road if you want a hot meal” Hiccup said pulling out his phone to check the time, although with first period just finished, he should’ve known it was just gone ten. “It’s got good food.”
“How expensive?” Jack asked cautiously, thumbing his notes. It wasn’t that he was cheap, but the cash from chores was to go towards other things like DVDs and video games.

Hiccup grinned a devious smile. “Oh it’s really cheap. I don’t pay a thing.”
His grin wasn’t like Jack’s but it did have him raising his eyebrows. “What? You walk out before paying,” he asked, still somewhat serious, as if Hiccup could actually do something like that. “Nah, Gobber owns it. He’s my uncle.”
“Gobber?” Hiccup heard Jack scoff but it wasn’t mean. Or at least it wasn’t meant to be.”Yeah, my mom’s brother. They both got the gift of traditional Viking names. He run’s the local diner. I go there a lot because…” Hiccup felt himself trail off, voice catching because he’d just been about to spill his pathetic life story on the one friend he doesn’t want to lose because—
Toothless whimpered, nudging Hiccup with his head. “Ah yeah, sorry blacked out,” Hiccup said quickly, making a point not to look at Jack. “Let’s just say Dad works a lot and I’m lazy when it comes to cooking. Jack accepted the excuse and didn’t pry any further. Instead he changed the subject.

“So you live locally then?”
“Yeah, over in the Fury Estate.”
Jack fell in time with him and they continued their conversation as they left the Campus grounds. They took the back route, passing through the forest meaning Hiccup could let Toothless off his lead and let him run.
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay with letting him run off? Because, I mean I don’t know why…” He trailed off, watching Toothless dive into the bushes and disappear. “Yeah I’m good. He supports me when I’m in large crowds and new places, but we’ve walked these woods a thousand times.”
Jack nodded at that. If he walked closer than he needed to… well, Hiccup didn’t say anything. It’s not like he minded.

They talked as they went, slowing their steps enough that the five minute short-cut turned into twenty minutes and a game of ‘a hundred and one questions.’

“Wow that must be a lot to deal with,” Jack laughed when Hiccup told him about Elinor just giving birth to three little brothers, laughing himself when he recalled their last phone conversation and how Merida complained twenty minutes solid about lack of sleep.
She definitely deserved it. Just a little bit.

“I don’t think Fergus is coping too well, but then again he could barely cope with me and Merida when we were younger. Let alone now that we’re older,” he said with a laugh, not realising he had begun to ramble.

“I don’t think I could deal with triplets either. I’m glad my family is just my Dad and my little Sister. Sometimes, I find even they’re enough to deal with.”
Jack explained that his younger sister was called Rapunzel, and then received a bout of giggles from Hiccup who had his turn to laugh at a funny name. Jack spat out his tongue but continued. She was fourteen and had just started school this week. The reason he was late to Art on Monday, was because Jack still had her set of house keys in his satchel, so he had to run to her school; Burgess Secondary to drop them off.

The reason he was late this morning however, was because he had woken late.
“Dad usually gives me a lift, but we were all late. It’s been an exhausting week. Punzie started a new school this week, I started College and Dad’s just moved his business to the City.”
“You moved?” Hiccup, catching on. He was quicker than Jack gave him credit for, who smiled. “From up North. It’s colder there.”

Which meant Jack was practically in the same boat as Hiccup, in terms of knowing very few people. Luckily for Hiccup though the ones he did know (pointedly: Dagur) were leaving him alone. For the time being.

They reached the edge of the forest, and after getting Toothless back on a leash, they crossed over to follow the main road. Hiccup almost forgot that he wasn’t going home, until Jack spotted the little diner. “Bloody hell, is that it?” he asked, pointing to the large green roofed building.
It was three stories of sturdy dark oak and green scale tiles on the curving roof on the third floor, and part of the second. What wasn’t roof was replaced with an open air decking, railed with ornate Viking carvings; little tables set up underneath the seating area, or those without shelter under green umbrellas to match the roof.
Towards the side of the car park, blocking sight to the beer garden was another raised decking, lined with evergreen flowerbeds and pebble paths running right up to the front door.

At the end of each orning stood a large wooden carving of a dragons head; a similar wooden carving curled around the archway to the main entrance, it’s body carved with similar patterns that had been etched into the wooden columns of the balconies.

“Holy….”
“C’mon, you’re hungry aren’t you?” Hiccup said with a grin, looking both ways before sprinting over the road with Toothless in tow. It was quiet inside, but that was simply because of the lack-of customers on a Thursday. Still, the ground floor was noisy from all the kitchen cooks in the open plan kitchen just on the other side of the heating bar. Jack followed, somewhat subdued.

“Hiccup!” Gobber greeted, spotting his nephew by the door, making his way over, wiping his hands on a dish rag. “Here for lunch? Want the usual?”
“Not this time,” Hiccup said, sidestepping to reveal Jack who had been hiding behind him, distracted as he admired the interior; just as decked out in the Viking Aesthetic as the outside. “Alright then. You two get up an’ I’ll send someone up in a sec fer your order.”

The rest of the kitchen crew shouted a greeting in a somewhat garbled rush as Hiccup made his way past, towards the large set of stairs between Kitchen and the walkway that led to the back room usually reserved for parties. Toothless stuck to his hip as they climbed, Jack following, not quite paying attention to where he was going as he marvelled at the organised chaos of paintings, carvings and décor.

“Like it?” Hiccup asked as he took Jack to a hidden, out of the way window booth on the second floor. It was his table, which could easily sit sixteen, hidden just a little out the way around a corner near a ‘staff only’ sign meaning people rarely sat here, unless directed by a waitress.
Penned in by bookshelves filled with his favourites, a TV and a wifi hotspot in the corner, the seats covered in comfortable blankets, it was the perfect little nook that became Hiccup’s hideaway for the Summer. This was where he spent most of his time studying when he was getting away from one of Stoick’s foul moods, or just somewhere he came for a change of pace.

Now he sat, opposite Jack, still staring, a little in awe about the Viking-ness of it all. “It’s…” Jack began, looking at Hiccup’s expectant face. “Umm…” he ventured, not quite sure why Hiccup was eager to hear what he thought of it.
“We did it up last year,” the boy said before Jack had a chance to ask. “All the paintings, shields and carvings were done by me,” he said with a grin. “Really? Wow!”
And Hiccup knew he meant it.

The pair’s privacy was ruined then, at the arrival of Gobber. He was being nosy, on the pretence of taking their order.
Hiccup was used to it, knowing Gobber always did this kind of thing when he used to have study groups in the little room. With the man being Hiccup’s Godfather, he took it upon himself to protect the small runt where he could.

Gobber sizing Jack up was the funniest thing Hiccup had ever seen. Jack seemed to want to cower into the cushions, but kept his gaze– more out of curiosity –cruising over the stunted man that was about the same height if they were both standing. His head was slightly sunk into his shoulders which made it look like he was constantly leaning forward.
His hand scratched at his braid moustache, the other equipped as a spatula, making Jack take notice of the cleverly designed prosthetic reminding him of Treasure Planet’s “Long John Silver.”

Jack stared.
And Gobber stared back.

Hiccup watched the man’s eyes sweep over Jack’s white hair, then down to his choice of attire for the day: a red sleeveless T, black camouflage-pants and dark slip-ons, with leather braided bracelets linking around his wrists. His trademark Blue and White Hoodie was laid over his worn satchel.

“Don’t scare him too much,” Hiccup jokingly warned him, breaking the tension before it built. “Jus’ doing mah’ duty as Godfather,” he grumbled.
Jack took the opportunity to browse the Menu, his eyes occasionally flicking to the disgruntled look he was getting.
“Gobber,” Hiccup said his tone more serious. “I know, I know,” the man huffed. But he didn’t seem to listen as his scowl remained permanently on his face. Hiccup sighed into his hands, mouthing a “sorry” as Jack ordered a Chicken and Salad Burger. Gobber scrawled down the order, then again when the teen requested Coke and finally, finally, he left them alone.

“Sorry,” Hiccup apologised again, but Jack waved his arm, as if batting the word out of the air. “Don’t worry about it. My Dad’s about the same size and even louder. I was just a little bit focused on his arm, and I was probably being a bit rude with the staring but I didn’t mean to.” he said, biting his lip.
“You didn’t notice his leg then,” Hiccup shot with a grin. Jack shook his head. Hiccup told him to watch for it when Gobber came back with the food.
Which he did, and that was when Jack could see the solitary pole of a wooden stump. It was carved with similar styles to the restaurant and immediately, the boy knew it was Hiccup’s handiwork. “I helped design it, but Fergus had it built – Merida’s dad,” he corrected Jack after the unearned praise.

“Not a classic style foot then,” Jack murmured as Gobber clunked away. “Said it ruined his true Viking look.”
“I think it makes him look more like a pirate.”

At first, the boy’s ate in silence. The food was just so good that Jack had to physically stop himself from inhaling it. Hiccup too it seemed, ignoring his stomach which rumbled. The smell of oil and fatty foods had set it off, and he didn’t realise how hungry he actually was, considering he hadn’t been eating much since the start of College.

But soon Jack struck up conversation, and their pace somewhat slowed. “I was worried I’d be the only guy doing Art. Dad said not many boys do it nowadays because Arts not cool anymore; or something along those lines.”
Jack’s smile said he didn’t really care. “At least it means that there are more girls for me to flirt with.” Hiccup forced out laughter, the harsh reminder of reality that Jack was straight hitting him in the face like a speeding car.
And here goes Hiccup’s head showing the boy cute little Romeo and Juliet fantasies that will never happen. Way to go brain. Thanks for making my day that much better.

Jack must have noticed Hiccup frowning or something. “Oh hey, I can share,” he said jokingly, a little unsure if he had somehow offended the boy. “Oh no,” the freckled teen said quickly, trying to cover up his emotional blunder. “By all means, you keep the girls. None of them are particularly appealing,” mentally adding; there is one though.

“Which one?”

Hiccup looked up. Jack had paused between bites of his burger, the chicken breast half falling as it stopped somewhere between the plate and his mouth. He didn’t notice. He was focused on Hiccup, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He was grinning like an idiot, obviously as relaxed in Hiccup’s presence as the boy was with him.

It took the smaller teen a moment to realise what Jack had said. “Wait… I said that out loud?” Jack guffawed. “Yes you did. So come on. Tell me which one.” Hiccup shook his head. “No, no way,” he practically yelped. Jack raised an eyebrow but his smile didn’t look as big.
“You’ll tease me about it,” said, taking a bite of his burger as Toothless’s head appeared between his legs. He had eaten all of Gobber’s burger steaks he brought up for him, now wanting the rest of Hiccup’s lunch. Hiccup gave it willingly.

“Oh come on, I won’t tease you,” Jack said, doing a pretty shit job at hiding his smug little grin. Hiccup looked at him like he was on ‘The Office.’
“Oh fine, don’t tell me.” He tried pouting, pulling puppy dog eyes but Hiccup ignored him with a firm. “No, I’m not saying anything.”

Jack made to argue, but Gobber appeared in the nick of time. Saved.
The restaurant owner dropped a tray onto the table, piling up Hiccup’s and his bud’s plates as he struck up small talk about Hiccup’s morning. Jack fell into silence, quietly munching on the rest of his mangled burger. He handed each another glass of Coke, taking their empty glasses before clunking off to annoy customers.

“Right,” Jack said between mouthfuls, his tone turning serious, stabbing a chip in Hiccup’s direction. “Dead Walker. You got to tell me when you’re free?” Hiccup just laughed, expecting something other than a movie date—
Not a movie date, his mind scolded. You are simply two friends, two good friends, hanging out in Jack’s room to watch Zombie movies.

Jack was way too excited for his Zombie Show Marathon. But truth was the other people Jack had met in College weren’t up for stuff like that. He hadn’t bothered talking to anyone else in Media because Hiccup was there, and Music was currently “shut up and listen. You can talk at lunch,” courtesy of Mr Jorgenson, the cover Teacher. Jack hadn’t even met his real Teacher - Mr Frederic, who was currently occupied with the birth of his first child. Although, it didn’t matter too much as Paternity leave only lasted two weeks, and the man would be starting work the Monday after next.

The only people he had really talked to where in P.E, and preferred to be at Football practice or hitting the gym when they could. Jack, not being that fussed on his physical appearance, (impeccable by Hiccup’s standards) didn’t bother to join them. Besides, if Jack watched anything with them, it would be football. And Jack knew which he preferred between screaming at people kicking a ball and Zombies chasing helpless survivors, only to watch them have their guts and brains ripped out.

“It sucks that I moved,” he complained, downing the rest of his coke, ready to move onto his second. The boy sighed, his smile definitely gone and Hiccup could see just how much that he missed his home. “It’s a bit far to drive – not that I can yet although I am learning – and a bit expensive on train. Not that there’s anyone still there who wants to hang out with me.” Jack’s sentence faded to nothing, his eyes a little distant as he ate three chips at once.
“Hey don’t say that. I bet your friends miss you.”
Jack snorted. “Yeah right. We all had a…. a falling out the last time I spoke. It doesn’t matter though. Real friends wouldn’t kick me to the curb just because I—” He choked on his last word, hand clamping down on his mouth to stop the words that had already scared away his old friends. He didn’t want to scare Hiccup away either.

“Hey I get it. Astrid’s gone to Changewing Military School and Merida is up North. My other friends live over by the coast, and like you said, expensive train tickets.”
They both stared at the table; Hiccup wishing he knew what to say to cheer Jack up.
Jack was cursing internally for being a douche bag and brining the mood down.

“Can’t complain though,” Jack told the silence, pushing away his now-cold chips in favour of his second coke. Hiccup snatched them up, feeding Toothless under the table.
“We moved because Dad had to. It’s fine for me because I just started a new College. Sucks for Punzie though because she’s just joined a new Year 9 Class where everyone else knows each other. But she’s not too phased.”

They lapsed into awkward silence once more, both twiddling their thumbs for something to do.
Hiccup wondered what it was like to have a sibling. Younger or older, he didn’t really care. He assumed it must be nice just to have someone else in the house to talk to. If he had an older sister, he could bug her with all his problems and worries. They’d sit on her bed and talk about anything and everything.
Or if he had an older brother, they would compete against one another on the Xbox, and probably get into fights when they didn’t see eye to eye. Perhaps a younger sibling would barge into Hiccup’s room when they wanted. They’d steal his stuff without asking and eat his food. They’d feed Toothless their leftovers and make him fat.
But they’d eat dinner together. Hiccup would cook them their favourite. They’d watch TV together. They’d take Toothless for walks together and probably walk to school as well.

“Having a sibling sounds fun,” Hiccup smiled to himself. “Well you can have mine,” Jack huffed.
“She uses me as her walking-talking-mannequin. She’s into fashion and art,” he explained when Hiccup had a dumb look on his face. “It’s not bad because I don’t look bad in the outfits she makes me wear, like this one,” he said, pulling at the top he had on. “But its hell when I want to wear what I want to, when “the colour doesn’t quite match,” he said in a girly voice.
But there was no serious anger in his voice, so Hiccup knew he didn’t totally mean it.

By the time that they had finished their food and both downed their drinks, the conversation had done a full circle: Jack had invited Toothless and Hiccup for the mega-movie-marathon.
“Any time after College and weekends, but Saturday morning’s I have a paper round,” Hiccup said, after Jack’s kept pestering him for an actual date and a promise to hand out.
“I can’t do this weekend though. I promised to help my Dad sort out the rest of the boxes but other than that...” Jack muttered, staring at the salt shaker as if deep in thought.

“What’s your college schedule? Because I know I get days off and early finish today.” Hiccup pulled out his mobile, opening his photo file to the picture he took, having not quite remembered the ins and outs of his timetable. “Hey that’s a pretty good idea,” Jack commented, pulling out a rather scruffy bit of paper, ripped and crumpled from where he kept it safely stored in the front page of his Media Folder.

Hiccup compared both of the timetables. “Thursdays, we both finish at ten.” Both only had Art that morning. And they both had Fridays off. Sort of. Hiccup had Computer Design first thing from nine till ten but other than that he was free.
“Then let’s do it next Thursday. Today’s too soon, but next week is fine. We can come here for Lunch, and then grab the Bus back to mine.”
“Sounds like a plan.”

Chapter 3: I'm Happy With My Mundane Life

Summary:

A week in and Hiccup and Jack are as thick as thieves, but still, both are concealing their own secrets from one another.

THURSDAY 14th September

Honestly, it was quite a surprise for North when he walked into his son’s bedroom one seemingly ordinary Thursday morning, to find him already awake and frantically cleaning up.
To North, it looked as if the boy had been at it a while: the floor was already clear, the dirty laundry and odd knick knacks settling in their new residence of Jack’s sofa-bed which now looked more like a sofa than a messy pile of blankets and pillows. There were two plastic bags for the bin, all his DVDs and Games had returned to their shelves, the guitar wall-brackets clear of clothes on coat hangers which were now in the wardrobe.
In the middle of it all was Jack, trying to sort out his video games so the discs were in the right boxes, muttering something about missing Dead Walker DVDs, whilst only wearing boxers and one sock that was only half on his foot.

“Jacky? What are you doing?”
Jack looked up, spotting his Father stood in the doorway, freezing where he was as if he had been caught in the act of stealing cookies.

North was wearing one of his formal red suits, his tattoos hidden by long sleeves and his long white beard smartly styled into a braid resembling Gloin from ‘The Hobbit’, although North retained his perfect white shade that had kids from all over yelling “Santa, Santa!” whenever he was around.
It looked like Rapunzel was working her fashion-art to the T this morning.

“You’re looking very dapper Dad,” Jack grinned, forgetting his hurry to tidy his room.
He had planned to do it last night, but some of the guys from his Music class had invited him for a few Halo Missions that ran well past midnight. Big mistake, considering he only had about another ten minutes to get his room to the acceptable standard, as well as locate the first season of Dead Walkers.
Hiccup was coming around for their prearranged zombie-movie-marathon.

“Hmm, this?” North asked, looking down at his suit, puffing out his chest proudly. “I’ve got an important meeting at work with some distributors.” Then his chest dropped slightly. “And Punzie hid my hound’s-tooth jacket.”
“Finally! That thing makes me see things every time you wear it!”
North pulled a face. “I liked that one. Besides, Punzie was the one that told me to buy it.”
“And I’ve already admitted that I made a mistake,” came the voice of the one responsible for North’s wardrobe.

Rapunzel stood in the doorway, smiling as she looked her Father up and down, proud of her work. Then she looked at Jack. “Well you’re not leaving the house like that,” she said, pretending to glower at Jack’s blue boxers with yellow ducks.
Jack looked himself over. “What? I thought they were cute.”
Rapunzel crossed her arms with a smirk. “They might be cute, but I doubt your date will want to ride the bus back here with you if you’re only wearing boxers and half a sock.”

Jack nearly choked, wide eyes between his family’s knowing grins. “Wh-what? I’m not— What do you mean?” he asked, feeling a little on the spot, watching North’s smile widen. He gestured to the room, not needing to point out that Jack was in a hurry to tidy, although the boy was usually laid back and not one for a perfect room.

“Is someone special coming over?”
“What? No!” Jack stood up quickly, arms up as if he was trying to bat the words from the air. “Well yes— but now, it’s just Hiccup.”
Rapunzel put her hands on her hips. “Just Hiccup?”
“Yes, Just Hiccup. You know, the one I told you about. He’s the only other boy in my Art class. He’s coming over with Toothless so we can play video games and watch Zombie movies,” the boy said hurriedly, glancing round at the mess of cases on his floor, mind running back to the places he might have left ‘Dead Walkers Season One.’ He had already unpacked all of his boxes, so where…

“He’s quite organised and seems to be the tidy type,” Jack rambled, carding a hand through his hair as he began to fidget, “so I thought that I should at least make my room a little presentable.”
“Ah ok,” North chuckled, not completely convinced. “Then if he and… Toothless, did you say?” Jack nodded. “If they’re staying for lunch, you might want to get some food while you’re out. We don’t have much left after Punzie’s little gathering.” Which had been her and almost her entire class in the garden as a ‘Welcome to Burgess Secondary Party.’
Rapunzel shrugged, muttering something about alcohol as she headed back to her own room to continue getting dressed for school.

North left too, leaving Jack to return to the task of tidying up. In the process he found the first and third box-set of Dead Walkers, as well as his spare Xbox controller. He tossed his dirty laundry into the washroom and opened his window, trying to mask the smell of a teenager’s bedroom.

“Jack let’s go!” came the call not ten minutes later, just before Rapunzel reappeared at the bedroom door, her uniform on and hair styled into a fishtail braid. Even then, it reached down to just below her knees.
“And you’re still not dressed,” she said, catching Jack underneath his bed, trying to grab the TV remote. No wonder he hadn’t been able to find it.

“Punzie, if you’re going to whine, at least help me.”
“I’ll get you an outfit, but that’s as far as my generosity goes,” the Blonde said with her tongue out. She rifled through his wardrobe, quick to pull out Jack’s favourite dress shirt. It was a semi-formal, blue, white and grey plaid-pattern that matched well with the white T and burgundy skinnies Rapunzel pulled out afterwards. “Dark grey leather jacket,” she said, placing them on the bed. “It’s colder today, but I doubt it will rain. Also, white trainers,” Rapunzel said, smiling.
“If you’re going on a date you have to make the right impression.”

Jack paused, halfway through wrestling with the shirt he was trying to pull over his feathered hair, still damp at the back from his morning shower.
“Come on Punzie, it’s not a date. I already told you guys, Hiccup’s just a friend.” Rapunzel just shrugged and gave him a ‘you-can’t-get-anything-past-me’ look before putting on that innocent smile. Jack knew better; this kid was as innocent as him when it came to innuendos and dirty jokes.

“Whatever you say.”
Jack spat his tongue out before hunting through his wardrobe for his leather jacket.
Autumn was definitely coming, and although Jack liked the cold, he didn’t like being cold. So on went the jacket, and into his pocket went a plain black scarf. Just in case.

Punzie was a genius when it came to anything fashion. She had her own YouTube Channel, dedicated not only to makeup tutorials, but also fashion ideas which she sometimes had Jack “guest star” on so he could model his own clothes for her so she could try different styles and see what went with his platinum white hair (every colour really).
Jack didn’t mind being Punzie’s guinea pig because he was included when companies sent Rapunzel things to promote on her channel, meaning free, sometimes expensive, stylish clothes and shoes.

It wasn’t long before Jack was ready.
His bedroom was acceptable as well so he didn’t have to worry about that. He grabbed his bag before heading downstairs, snagging up the breakfast wrap that North had made; like the ones you get from McDonalds, although this one was packed with much more meat, and two hash browns. Delicious.

Rather than catching the bus like normal, North was going to drop them both off just short of the motorway intersection, as he wasn’t needed until nine.
As CEO of a Toy Manufacturing Company, North Frost was a busy man, busier now that he had reclaimed the Berk Office as his main base of operation, considering its location. Neither Jack nor Rapunzel were particularly upset at the move, considering they had moved into a bigger house, they were now near a main City with bustling life and North would be spending more time at home, rather than on commuting to and from work. Still, most mornings he was out of the house before his children, yet today remained as a nice change.

“I won’t be home till late tonight,” North said as he pulled out of the driveway. “The business meeting is going to last most of the afternoon and I think I’ll have to take them to dinner, just so we can close the deal. So Jacky can you do dinner for tonight for the pair of you? I don’t mind if Hiccup stays late, or if he’s sleeping over, but make sure you don’t stay up too late and the rest of it,” he trailed off, knowing that both his kids were responsible and could look after themselves.
Without a mother and a busy working father, Jack and Rapunzel had learnt quickly how to care for themselves, and although they could be childish and bratty at times, they were far more mature than their peers.

“Sure thing,” Jack said, only half listening as he stared down at his phone, busy texting Hiccup to make sure that he was still up for today’s plans.
They hadn’t been able to see much of each other yesterday. Media had been less than entertaining, and meant lots of quiet pen-work. Ms Gothi, the Teacher was sort of strict about silence when it came to listening and learning, so it meant no talking. But that didn’t stop Jack from throwing notes over to Hiccup’s desk.

Jack’s phone blinked in his hand, a message popping up.

[Received: Thursday 08:36 | Sender - Freckles]
Morning. You do know you could’ve just asked me this in Art.
And did you check with your family about Toothless coming over?

Jack grinned to himself, typing out a message assuring Hiccup Toothless was definitely welcome, for probably the hundredth time.

[Received: Thursday 08:36 | Sender - Snowflake]
Yes, I asked. And yes, he can come round. \(^ヮ^)/

[Received: Thursday 08:36 | Sender - Freckles]
Just checking.

[Received: Thursday 08:37 | Sender - Snowflake]
You make is sound like you don’t trust me.

[Received: Thursday 08:37 | Sender - Freckles]
Well…

“We’re here,” North said from the driver’s seat. He pulled into a side road, letting Jack and Rapunzel climb out, wishing them a good day before heading off to work and the unavoidable queue of traffic.
Jack’s distracted wave fell half-heartedly as another string of texts flew in.

[Received: Thursday 08:42 | Sender: Freckles]
Hurry up and get here. It’s so frigging boring in class.
Toothless has abandoned me. He’s been bribed by a bacon and cheese toasty.

[Received: Thursday 08:43 | Sender: Snowflake]
I have heard they’re his favourite (≧◡≦)

[Received: Thursday 08:43 | Sender: Freckles]
I wonder who got him hooked?

[Received: Thursday 08:43 | Sender: Snowflake]
My bad.

Jack was grinning to himself, pocketing the phone before pulling out the scarf because it was actually quite cold, not really paying attention to his sister who was watching him like a hawk.

“So,” Punzie sang, hugging Jack’s arm as she walked, putting her weight on it so she almost dragged him to the pavement. “Tell me about your date~.”
Jack laughed, trying to pull his arm back, but failing miserably. He readjusted it instead, his and Punzie’s elbows linking together so that they could walk side by side down the pavement, hands buried in coat pockets to fight the chill of a cold September morning. “I told you, and I told Dad the same. It’s not a date. Hiccup is just a friend. He’s coming round so we can play videos games and watch horror movies.”

Punzie smiled that same know-it-all smile, not dropping her tone. “Is he cute?”
“Punzie.”
“What? It’s just a question. One can say I’m curious,” she laughed, still peeking out the corner out of her eye to watch Jack grow three shades brighter.

“Hmm, so he is cute.”
Jack shot her a look, but Punzie wasn’t fazed. “But how cute? Are we talking piglet in welly-boots cute or bunny in a suit?”
“I’m going to go with mowed down by a stampeded of golden retriever puppies cute?”
“Oh, that high on the cute scale?”
“That high,” Jack said with a nod, looking down to his sister’s biggest shit-eating grin. “But Punzie, you can’t say anything,” he said quickly, tone turning serious.

“This isn’t like secondary school, I’m not hiding who I am this time around, but that doesn’t mean I want everyone I have a crush on to know that, Hiccup included.”
“Oh, a crush?—”
“Punzie.” Jack’s tone was firm, warning his little sister this wasn’t a joke anymore.

“You can’t say anything. I get that people won’t understand me, but it will be easier to stay friends with him if he thinks I’m not staring at his ass all day.”
“So are you—” Jack stopped her with a look. Punzie dropped her head, voice small. “Sorry. I won’t say anything, I promise. I don’t want the same to happen again.”

The pair fell into uncomfortable silence, their arms dropped from where they’d been linked as both were forced to live reminders of Jack’s “coming out” back in their old town.
It wasn’t like he ever meant to hide his sexuality in the first place, didn’t think he had, but it wasn’t until he said something to the wrong person….

Both Punzie and his Dad knew now. They found out after Jack came home, sobbing, in a mess because all his friends had disowned him. It wasn’t like he could control who he fell for, be it guy or girl. But apparently your best friend was off limits.

After Jack’s sexuality became the subject of public gossip, a lot of trouble followed. Not just from Jack’s old friends, but teachers in his school, strangers in the neighbourhood.
North even had gossip at his branch of the company and Punzie got into her own few fist-fights involving one stubborn girls standing up for her brother and a “coming-out” of her own, just to piss off the bigots that dared bad-mouth her beloved brother.

North’s final straw came when Jack had to step in to protect Punzie from his so-called friends when they caught her walking home one day.
Moving had been a possibility for a while, but no one had seriously considered it until Jack came home that day, bruised and bleeding.
As soon as he came out the hospital, they packed up and left.

Jack didn’t care that he was leaving everyone behind. If they were true friends they would’ve realised that Jack didn’t feel that way for any of them. They were friends: Nothing more.
Not anymore, he thought bitterly.

Things were different in Berk.

For a start, there was Hiccup.
Cute, funny and sarcastic Hiccup. Handsome in his own right, adorable in all others.
It wasn’t “love at first sight,” but there was something there. Any romantic at heart would absolutely adore their meeting, bumping into one another only to be classmates in not one, but two separate lessons.

They just seemed to click together. They liked the same movies, games, food, music; you name it, they both liked it.
But what Jack liked most of all was just how himself he could be around Hiccup.
Hiccup thought so too: he had been the one to say it. Obviously without thinking, a part of the rambling he did when he relaxed, the words tumbling out his mouth before he could stop himself because immediately afterwards, he turned three shades pinker, stuttered an apology and pretty much sprinted away with Toothless in tow.
Jack didn’t care though. He thought it was cute.
But he wouldn’t tell the boy that, if he wanted to remain friends with him. Just friends, his head said spitefully. Because even if Hiccup is cute, funny, sarcastic and handsome, it’ll be a cold day in hell before he ever looks at you in that way.

“…ack…”

“…Earth to Jack. Come in Jack!” The boy blinked owlishly, stared down at Punzie who was waving in his face. “What?” he asked, concerned about the worry in her voice. “You switched off. I was talking to you and…” she trailed off, tilting her head. “Never mind. You’re okay.”
She was worried, having brought up the past, thinking she had caused Jack to have another panic attack, when he just had a mind full of Hiccup. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered, leaning in to hug her quick. “Sorry for scaring you.”

They held hands this time, continuing to walk. They were almost at Punzie’s school, and he’d leave her to head on to college which remained further down the road.

“I’m good here,” she said, nodding towards the road that veered down towards the forest which was a shortcut for him. “You’re back home first, so you’re cooking dinner.”
“Sure thing. I’m shopping before heading home, anything you want?”
“No, I’m good. The others and I are going to chill before I come home. And yes, I have my phone,” she said just as jack opened his mouth to ask exactly that.

“Now go, before you’re late.” She grabbed his top to pull him down so she could give him a peck on the cheek, laughing at the fake disgusted noise he made. “And good luck on your date!”
“It’s not a— Punzie!”
The minx giggled as she darted out of reach, a hand raised in farewell as she ran to a small group of girls and boys near the gate. They eyed Jack curiously, already hammering Rapunzel for answers, but the girl remained tight-lipped and flashed a devilish grin.
Jack debated calling out again, going for embarrassing rather than endearing, but checking his phone said he had just under ten minutes to get to college.

Jack set off down the road, headphones on, walking in time to Woodland : Paper Kites, randomly singing parts as he went. He found his hands moving by themselves, unconsciously strumming in time to the track, his fingers pressing imaginary strings to play different chords. He got a little into it, loosing himself in music as he strolled down the street.
It got him thinking. He hadn’t Asked Hiccup what music he liked. Jack had pegged him as a pop/rock kid so probably something like Bastille or of Monsters and Men. Possibly.
Maybe even some old, unknown groups that played Viking and Celtic style music.

Jack wasn’t fussy about what he liked (except scream-O’s) , but anything with a decent guitar solo or cute little rift and he was hooked. That’s why he liked finger style guitar, but he only played that on his acoustic. But he was trying to learn the ‘Never Give In’ intro from BVB… well he was getting there.

Maybe Hiccup played an instrument. They hadn’t really talk about music that much; just their families, College, friends, more College and College work. As well as Dead Walkers.

Jack felt himself get excited for this afternoon, unconsciously picking up the pace as the song changed to Into A Fantasy : Alexander Rybak.

Jack definitely needed to try and cover it on his guitar...

Jack was so into his songs he didn’t realise that he had already walked to College. He let his feet wander where they wanted, skipping the literature department in which his Tutor room was; right on the fifth bloody floor in the sun-trap of a classroom. And it wasn’t even summer yet.
Jack arrived outside the Art room just as the bell rang. He waited, letting the Tutor file out before entering, eyes locking onto Hiccup, stood at the front of class in discussion with Tatiana. Toothless was with the others that shared Art and Tutor, occupying the girls’ attention, leaving Jack free to flirt with Hiccup.

Instead of interrupting him and Tatiana, Jack made his way to his desk at the back of class. He had a nice view of Hiccup from there.
He was wearing dark blue skinnies that showed off his legs and a white long sleeve dress shirt with a brown V-neck jumper over the top. He had a burgundy beanie on his head, his fringe tucked back in places so that Jack could see more of his face. A nice bit of eye candy for the early morning.

The new arrival got Toothless’s attention, and the dog wagged his tail in greeting, coming up for a sniff. Or he was trying to find another bacon and cheese toasty.
“Sorry bud, not yet. But there might be something at my place you can munch on.”
“Oh good, now you’re spoiling him.”

Jack looked up to Hiccup, crossed arms and a fake-frown pulling his lips into a cute little pout. “Guilty as charged. But how can you not?” Jack asked, throwing his arms around Toothless who leant back into the hug.
Hiccup suppressed a smile. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger. You can’t escape now.”
“Who said anything about escaping?”
“Alright, everyone is here, so let’s start,” Tatiana smiled, raising her voice as she cut conversation short.

The Art class got underway and Jack didn’t have much time to talk to Hiccup as Tatiana kept explaining things. It seemed first term was a warm up for the upcoming projects, but considering this was a warm up, they could work in groups, and Tatiana would just assess the individual portfolios afterwards.
Right now, she was going through all the little hints and tips of what media to use and when to use it and blah blah blah.
Jack didn’t need to listen in too much detail, knowing that she’d have a booklet or something to hand out, considering Tatiana loved all the little hand-out guides. The first lessonalone Jack came away with six, but he wasn’t complaining because they were nifty.
Beside, Rapunzel got a good look at them and appreciated the guides that helped her with her own hobbies.

“And I have it all in here,” Tatiana said, holding out the eleventh-or-something little booklet. Right on cue.

Hiccup groaned. “You could have told us that before I wrote everything down.” Tatiana laughed. “But then you wouldn’t have been paying attention to what I was saying, like Jack.”
Jack just grinned. At least she knew what everyone was like.

They didn’t do much work in Art other than repeats of the basics.
Tatiana had warned them the first few lessons would be explanations and recaps, as well as a thorough explanation of the first assignment task that was starting the next week, as well as the fact that they’d be working in threes, “And no there won’t be any different groups, because there are fifteen of you. So five groups of three please.”

As Tatiana came round handing out the booklets, Jack got struck with a genius idea. “We’ve already got our group,” he said as she passed him one. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Me, Hiccup and Toothless are going to work together. You did say groups of three,” he smiled, hoping Tatiana had telepathic abilities and would be able to hear him begging to just go with it.
No such luck. “I do agree that Toothless will be a valuable attribute to your group. In that case, you guys get to have four people in your group. Aren’t you lucky?”
No, Jack thought, cringing internally, making a point not to look at the girls that all threw him looks over their shoulders. This was going to bring so much trouble…

“So we’re in a group then?” Hiccup asked, catching Jack’s attention. He’s pulled his beanie off and his hair is a mess; Jacks’ brain short-circuiting for a split second. “What, you don’t want to?”
Hiccup stroked his non-existent beard, glancing over at the table in the far corner. “Well, I guess you’ll have to do. The only question is who our third groupie will be.”
“Fourth,” Jack corrected. “You’re forgetting Toothless.” Toothless perked up at his name, and with no order from Hiccup, sat up between the two tables looking between each boy. “I doubt he’ll do much.”
“Don’t doubt the team mascot.”
“We’ll have to get him a uniform then.”
“Most definitely.”

Jack was only vaguely aware of Tatiana leaving the classroom, something about not enough booklets, telling them to get into groups before she got back. And suddenly, Jack was the centre of everyone’s attention, hearing his name and the whispers of “quick let’s ask him.”

But before half the class could walk to the back, all wanting to ask Jack if he’d join them, a girl with bright red hair, (name forgotten) moved first.
She walked straight up to him, deliberately pushing past the others and giving them a harsh glare, telling them to stay back. Weakly, the other girls fell back to their chairs, moving to find another to fill their three-team problem.

At first Jack tried to ignore the girl stampeding towards him, but then she shoved Cassie into a desk and he shot her a scowl. She must’ve mistaken it for a smile because she seemed to strut more eagerly to where he sat, trapped by his desk.

“So Jack,” Red – the nickname he had given her due to her shocking, and very bad, home dye kit – sang in an overly singsong way, sliding onto his desk.
Jack grabbed his notes to move them so she wouldn’t have to sit on them. It wasn’t that he was being nice, it’s just he didn’t want her sweaty skin all over the paper.
She was wearing a grey miniskirt, meaning when she perched herself on the desk, it hitched up a little further and Jack was able to see the bottom of a curly spaghetti-writing tattoo that probably said her name or some heartbreak quote or dramatic quote about life. Ugh.

Red smiled sweetly at him, the notion lighting up her features in the wrong way. It was like her body ran on cold malice rather than any genuine attraction as she looked Jack up and down like he was a piece of meat. He was her trophy and she wanted him.
She leant forward, pressing her arms together so her boobs were squashed together, the bust looking bigger, her see-through top slipping down see he could see the tops of her lacy red bra. “We can work together on the project. I’ll talk to the Teacher and maybe it can be just us two,” she said, leaning closer so that her cleavage was almost shoved in his face.

This felt like a really bad introduction to a porno, turning Jack off in every way possible. He was wondering if he’d ever look at the colour red in the same way again as he got a face-full of her hair, Red leaning in. She pressed her mouth to Jack’s ear, her red hair irritating the nape of his neck.
No, it was her hand. She had moved it to slide down his neck, forcing Jack to do all he could not to flinch in repulsion, his expression schooled to one of minor irritation.
He’d let her play her magic, then take her out the room and tell her no, let her down easy and try to control the initial damage.
A bitch was worse than a bastard in terms of turning on Jack; they were sneakier and could deal longer-lasting damage on the college grapevine.

“We can work on it at my place. Maybe start it today… My parents are always out so we can… get… some… privacy….” As she said this, Red pulled back, faces close together. She licked her lips, tapping Jack on the nose as she said the last three words.
She was wearing way too much perfume and her mascara was caked on her eyelashes making it look like she was wearing tar. Her eye shadow was uneven and her red lipstick was just screaming ’I’m trying too hard.’

Jack watched her sit up slowly, moving just the right (wrong depending on your point of view – and in Jacks’ point of view it was very wrong) way so that her cleavage was once again right in his face. Her top was low cut anyway so he was seeing a lot more skin than he wanted to.

“So? Do you want to be my partner?”

Ugh. Worst pun/pick up line ever.

Jack pulled further back, trying not to choke on the smell of oranges, about to invite her out to the quiet of the corridor for the prepared speech, but his attention was pulled to Hiccup, who stumbled. He had been standing, right foot hooked in the strap of his bag and he had fallen.
Instinct meant he reached for his own desk, and Jack’s, yet Jack’s was taken up by a certain Red-Haired Bitch who didn’t have the normal politeness to realise that hand on her leg was to steady himself, not a free touch-and-feel.

“Eww! What the hell, don’t touch me cripple!” Red yelled, slapping Hiccup’s hand away like he had the plague.
Hiccup mumbled an apology, red-faced and upset as Toothless pressed up to him, whimpering.
If not from embarrassment, then the word that had Jack’s blood boiling. Oh bitch, you just stepped in it.

“Waste of fucking oxygen,” Red muttered, turning back to Jack with a toxic smile. “So? What do you say?”

Now, getting angry was justified and Jack could rip her a new one because of how she treated Hiccup and especially for even thinking he was a cripple. This bitch didn’t even know him.

But Jack had a mean streak, and although raging would satisfy him, he knew it wouldn’t do the damage this bitch deserved. He knew how to take her down a peg a two.

“If I touch your boob with a pin will it pop?” Red sat up sharply, confused at what Jack had said.
“Huh?” There was a moment of stunned silence, and then smiles crept onto everyone’s faces as they figured out Jack’s little comment. He glanced to his left and was able to see Hiccup looking a little confused. At least he wasn’t upset anymore.
But Jack wasn’t finished yet.

“Are they real? They don’t look real. I bet they’re just water balloons.” Red looked shocked. Jack smiled again, putting on his best impression of Joey Graffeca.

“And honey, that’s not all that’s fake about you. Your roots are starting to show and you’ve got quite a few split-ends. You might want to get your hair redone.”
Red recoiled sharply. “Oh and get a better hairdresser. Your extensions are so~ obvious.”

Red jumped off the desk like someone had poked her with a cattle prod.
Jack stood up as well, his hip pointing out slightly, one hand resting there, the other on his lip like the sexy lip pout. “Plus you’re wearing way too much make up. That’s not good for your skin honey. You’ll get spots and black heads. Not good if you’re trying to pick up a guy when you look FUG-LY.” Jack emphasised on the last word, doing the snap-snap-Z move, breaking into song to the cheers of the girls:
“Don’t make me snap my fingers in Z-formation, hip rotation, booty sensation. Talk to the hand, talk the wrist. Dang gurl~ you just got dissed!”

Jack couldn’t hold in his laughter, half bent over, mouth pulled into a face splitting grin. Some of the girls were clapping, laughing louder when Jack stared bowing mixed with the Queen’s wave.
Hiccup was laughing now he noticed, cute little snorts mixed with bountiful laughter, like wind-chimes in the breeze, grinning as he looked between Jack and Toothless; who had broken free from his master’s side, bounding around the room like he was the one in the spotlight, not Jack who had just burned Red. Bad.
She was still stood in front of Jack’s desk, eyes wide like Jack had just killed her mother or something.

Then anger returned, quick, fast, and she grabbed Jack by the collar, lips once more to his ear. But instead of soft, suggestive whispers came a dark threat.
“You’ll regret that. I’ll make you pay.”

“Whatever Princess,” Jack smiled, not at all frightened by the bullshit.
He wouldn’t let her destroy his life. He’s already had it once, he’s not going to lose his friends because some bitch wants him and won’t take no for an answer. Thirsty, dirty skank who thought far too much of herself.

Everyone else were still laughing when Red stormed from the room, her cheeks as flushed as her locks.
Jack didn’t care, too busy watching Hiccup who was holding his stomach; the laughing turned painful although he didn’t look like he particularly cared, dropping his head on the desk, overtaken by his incessant giggling.

“You guys look like you’re all having fun.” They looked up to see Tatiana stood in the doorway, eyes on all of them. Then the empty space that had Red’s jacket and bags.
“Where is Rachel? Does anyone know?”

Cassie straightened up from where she had collapsed against her own desk, smiling normally as everyone returned to their desks, their laughter stifled to casual murmurs. “She had phone call. It sounded important.” Toothiana nodded but she still looked a little confused as she glanced to the girls things.

“Okay then. If you’ve already got your groups of three, I need to write them down,” she said, pulling out the notepad on her desk. Some girls went up, having already decided. Others continued to talk to each other, some glancing hopefully towards the back of the class where Jack sat on Hiccup’s desk. Or more specifically, laid between his and Hiccup’s, putting on a voice similar to Red’s. “So? Do you want to be my partner?”
Hiccup smiled, shaking his head slightly at Jack’s bad impersonation of Red but after a moment it faded. “That was kind of harsh.”
“So? She wasn’t kind-of a bitch. She was a bitch and she got her comeuppance for talking shit about you,” Jack pointed out, sliding off the desk to start packing away his things, just like Hiccup was doing. Only, the boy had stopped. “Wait, you embarrassed her, because of what she said to me?”
“Huh? Of course. That wasn’t cool and I’m not going to stand for that. You’re my best friend dude, I’m always going to have your back.”
Hiccup beamed. “Thanks dude.”
“Anytime, dude.”

“So we’re a pair. Anyone you want to ask to be our third wheel?” Hiccup asked, nodding to the front where Tatiana was taking names.

“I’d hate to think of the other girls that are going to start fighting over who else gets to pair up with you.”
Jack laughed. “We’ll hold a tournament,” he said loudly, turning around, his arms open as eyes turned his way.

“Thirteen Tributes will compete against one another for the right to be the third member of our group. We’ll call it ‘The Jackson Games,” the white-haired boy said.
“Idiot,” Hiccup muttered, standing up. “Let me guess. Winner gets a kiss as well,” he asked, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. “Maybe,” Jack winked whilst grinning. He was aware of the shrill squeaks from the group of girls, some laughing at his antics.
Hiccup just shook his head. “It’s going to be an all out war.”
“They just love me too much.” The freckled boy just gave him a look. “Come on then lover boy. I want to grab some food first before we go to yours. I accidently missed breakfast.” Jack’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food but he didn’t care for hunger as his excitement got a recharge now that they were going to head to his house and chill.
It’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a date, it’s not a—

“Yeah, that’s good. We don’t have much food at home, so we’ll have to go shopping anyway. Also, if you’re staying for dinner, we can grab something for tonight at the same time, but we’ll go to the shops near my place, save dragging the shopping onto the bus.”
“Sounds like a plan.”

Notes:

So the friends love each other. What a surprise ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Chapter 4: Torturing Myself To Impress Him

Summary:

It doesn’t matter what Jack and Hiccup say. It’s a date.

THURSDAY 14th September

“Jack can you please get off.”
“Why I’m comfy here?”
“No, Jack get off, I can’t s-see… Jack get—”
“Hmm did you say something?”

“Jack what are you… No. Stop!”
“Stop what?”
“JACK STOP!”
Hiccup started laughing, trying to stop himself from instinctually kicking out as he tried to pull himself away from Jack who had pinned him with his body, lying across him on the bed. “Jack, stop it!”
They had been playing Mario Kart, the pair crashed on Jack’s bed while Toothless dozed on the floor. But when Hiccup had started to take the lead on “Sherbet Land” – apparently a map that Jack is King of – and…, well Jack swore he wasn’t trying to distract him as he leant against him.
Somehow, he quickly abandoned his game console, the remote tossed somewhere on the tussled blanket as he turned the distracting into full-on tickling. It was extremely effective.

“Aha, so this is your weak spot,” the white-haired boy laughed, moving his legs to pin Hiccup’s so that he couldn’t kick out and accidently hurt either of them. “No Jack stop please! Toothless help!”
The dog raised his head, but hearing no real distress in Hiccup’s voice, he just remained where he was, watching his master’s antics with curiosity.
Hiccup couldn’t help but laugh, trying to push Jack away, his own controller dropping to the floor, his own body slipping with it.

Ten minutes later, both boys lay sprawled on the floor, panting heavily and sweating, Toothless between them, his tail wagging viciously. The tickling had escalated into a full out pillow war, with Jack and Hiccup throwing pillows and hitting each other with them, Toothless trying to join in by yanking pillows from both hands and running around in circles.
Luckily the pillows hadn’t exploded so there was no mess of feathers everywhere, as Jack had imagined there would be. Turned out his pillows was somewhat heavy-duty.

“Damn. These things would last in a fight against Zombies,” he laughed, picking himself up off the floor, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. Hiccup admired from the floor, thankful for Toothless who came to lie on top of him, trapping him and his fantasies.

“Need any help there?” Jack asked as he picked up their choice of weapons, dropping the pillows back onto the bed before rescuing an out-of-breath Brunet from his over-grown pup.

“Drink?”
“Nothing alcoholic,” Hiccup agreed, grinning at his own little joke. “Damn it,” Jack pouted. “I was so looking forward to getting drunk.” Hiccup gave him a look. “We can’t. One, because I have college tomorrow so no hangovers for me. Two, we’re both seventeen so it’s illegal.” Jack just pouted again. “Party pooper.”
Hiccup grabbed something near him and threw it at the boy. It turned out to be a shoe, and would’ve probably hit Jack in the face had he not caught it at the last second.
Hiccup bit his lip. “Sorry.”

Not perturbed, Jack threw the shoe by the door, telling Toothless to leave it who had watched the projectile settle where it landed in the bean bag, thinking it was some sort of game.
Toothless, realising the game was in fact done, returned to the square of sunshine in the middle of Jack’s floor, to bask in its warmth as he had been doing while Hiccup and Jack yelled profanities about Blue Shells and the like.
“I wouldn’t settle there,” Jack told him, just before he dropped the blinds, sending the room into semi-darkness, stealing Toothless’s basking spot.
Hiccup looked over questioningly, to which Jack answered “you’ve got to watch Dead Walkers in the dark. It’s pretty much an unwritten rule for any horror flick. Besides, the first few episodes are dark anyway, and with any glare on the screen, it’ll be hard to see what’s going on.”
Miffed that his sunbathing spot was stolen, Toothless got up and laid in the patch in the hall, still in Hiccup’s sight.

“Right, I’m getting drinks,” Jack said, jumping off the sofa as he followed Toothless out the door. “Then it’s Zombies. Make yourself comfy on the sofa. I’ll grab some snacks while I’m at it.”
Hiccup nodded, listening to Jack start singing the theme tune as he skipped down the stairs smiling to himself. Toothless rolled onto his back, tongue lolling lazily out his mouth; the epitome of Hiccup’s happiness right now.
He climbed up off the floor, his right half-leg aching from where he’d kicked out, catching the sofa leg instead of Jack (thankfully) when he fell off the bloody thing, but it had sent shooting pain up to his thigh and now he was starting to feel the ache that it brought. Hiccup opted to ignore it, grabbing his game controller to take them off the Mario Kart Trophy Page, back to the main screen before swapping game disc for the first disc of Dead Walker’s first season.
He’d seen the opening title menu’s run-through three times before Jack reappeared. He helped take the copious bowls of snacks – spicy popcorn, rainbow puffs, strawberry laces, sour mix, Doritos and dip – as well as the fizzy bottles of pop, settling them on behind the bed on a shelf that ran underneath the window.

“This is going to be good,” the white-haired teen said, shuffling so that he was comfy on the sofa. Hiccup tried to ignore the pounding of his heart as Jack shuffled in closer beside him, their arms bushing against one another from where they’re so close.

“I haven’t watched the first season in months. I’m on Season nine at the moment where Noah – you haven’t met Noah yet, you meet him in the third season – gets bitten by a zombie dog—”
“Way to ruin the story Frosty,” Hiccup drawled sarcastically, snatching the bowl of rainbow puffs before Jack and his giant mouth could eat them all.
Jack gave him a look. “You’re really sticking with Frosty? Maybe I should start calling you “Freckles” then.”
It was Hiccup’s turn to pout. “Don’t dis the freckles. Astrid says their cute.”
“Yeah she’s right.” Jack laughed again, but Hiccup’s heart jumped at the compliment, his cheeks flushing a serious shade of pink, grabbing at straws before Jack saw his distress. “Are you going to gonna press play, or are we just going to watch the title screen all afternoon?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack would’ve liked to say the first episode jump scares didn’t get to him, but then if he did, he’d be lying. It’s been so long since he watched the first season he’s forgotten just how suspenseful it was. The first few episodes, he remembered, were hard to watch too considering they were dark; of course its dark they’ve just broken into an abandoned mall in the middle of the night – but it’s not just that. He’s pretty sure this Cassie girl dies soon, but he’s not sure when.
It’s a shame. He liked Cassie.

Still, the recap is nice for a memory refresher of the storyline for him and although the show misses some much needed wisecracks and light-hearted humour from his own favourite characters – later introduced, he’s content to watch Cassie and his small group of soon-to-be-dead companions work their way through the maintenance corridors in an abandoned mall, smiling as the all too inevitable “well at least we’re safe in here” line comes through and everyone just knows that the group is now well and truly fucked.

Not five minutes later one of the men – Morgan or something – has picked up a fire extinguisher. He’s making that joke about using it as a weapon, or how it is ideal in a videogame; swinging the thing about like the brute he is.
Jack remembered hating him the first time, wishing he dies and being happy when the fire extinguisher catches a gas pipe, because Morgan just fucked up big time. Problem is, that creepy echoing clanging that resonates through the pipeline gets the Zombies attention. And not just on Morgan, but the entire group; Cassie included.

Beside him, Jack can feel Hiccup tensing up. There are screamers in the mall; nasty broken-limbed things that can run as fast as Bolt, considering the minds gone and so has the limiter on their muscles, meaning they are too strong and too fast for a normal human being to outrun them.
Cassie falls first, but she doesn’t trip or stumble, like that blonde-bitch-who-always-dies-first nonsense. No, it’s worse because Morgan fucking throws her into the horde, screaming like the coward he is as he runs, trying to escape his death, only to be pulled into the numbers of scavengers that were waiting to ambush him in the air vents.

Jack has nearly finished the sours by the time the cameras have gotten bored of Morgan’s death, now flicking back to Hamish and the remaining three survivors - Jack can’t remember their names other than Greta, so they probably die too. Oh well, it’s an apocalypse movie, of course there are deaths, enough to challenge ‘Game Of Thrones’ statistics.
His eyes linger on the fearful figure of Dead Walker’s current heartthrob: Hamish. Luckily for him he’s still alive in Season Nine and as one of the main characters, as well as a much-loved representation of the LGBQT+ community, it’s unlikely he’ll be dying anytime soon.

It’s been almost ten and a half years since the filming of the first season, and although Hamish definitely “Neville Longbottomed” everyone when he hit puberty, he was still pretty cute back as a eighteen year old, fresh-out-of-film-school noob, who managed to land himself a major role within the Dead Walker franchise.
Hamish’s eighteen year old, although a year older than Hiccup currently, looks a lot like him; with mousy brown hair and the same splatter of freckles on his face. His eyes aren’t the same forest-green he associates with his best friend, but they still shine with a certain mischievousness and an amusingly light-hearted, laid back sense of humour.

Everybody say hello to Jack’s first crush.

Which makes him wonder: does he like Hiccup simply because the boy pertains similar traits to Hamish? But then, Jack hadn’t seen the similarities, up until now. He didn’t even notice until just this second that they look alike. And if Hiccup ends up looking like twenty eight year old Hamish who is fit, sexy and well on his way to being titled hottest-man-of-2018, well, then Jack’s not going to worry about anything. Not in the slightest.

They group of survivors are on the roof now, using sunrise to deem the direction of South. Apparently there’s a river or a lake, or something. Jack can’t remember what this group had been looking for before they met up with the others, but he’s vaguely aware of them talking about boats, instead grabbing his class of fizz and the Doritos.

The only sours that remain are the green ones, and Jack despises them.
“Hey Hic do you want these?” he asked, shuffling slightly to pass the bowl. Obviously he wasn’t as absorbed in the flick as Hiccup was, because apparently Hiccup hasn’t heard him.
The teen’s got his arms wrapped firmly around Jack’s penguin plushie, eyes wide as the fire-exit door breaks and the roof access is warped from the horde that pours through. There are no screamers – aversion to sunlight and all that – but still, the scene must be pretty terrifying considering the group is now four stories up with no way to get down except for a fire ladder which forces them down one at a time. And the horde isn’t going to wait for them all to escape before they give chase.

“Go, go I’ll hold them back,” Hamish yells, the scrawny kid raising up the knife he took as they ran through the restaurant kitchen. It’s only a pig-sticker, no fancy meat cleaver or bread knife that will give him another couple inches of reach. The blade is three inches, rusted and as fragile as the boy’s bones but he’s going to fight his way out if that’s the last thing he does.
“Stop being a hero you dumb shit,” Gregor yells, shoving his kid-brother towards the fire escape. Greta is already at the bottom, calling every Walker towards her as she fires off round after round from her gun. It was Cassie’s, but the girl had thrown it before being consumed and now Greta is wasting bullets and wasting tears. Hamish is beside her, searching for a way out while Max uses his garden broom to ram the Walkers back, watching them stumble and fall, forming small barriers for the horde that ambles in behind them.
“GREGOR!”

Jack doesn’t watch Gregor jump off the roof. He’s seen the clip a thousand times on the internet; one of those memes followed by tags like #homework? or #responsibility? followed by #Nope and the Gif of Gregor leaping off of the mall, grabbing the orning on his way down as if that would slower his descent. Well, it did.
But still, the fucker broke his leg.

Jack doesn’t think anything of the heartbreaking scene between Hamish and his step-brother, until Gregor is shoving the boy back with a feral yell “I’m a cripple Hamish, I’ll only slow you down!”

Ah. That word.

Jack side-eyes Hiccup, reading into his white knuckles fisting the plushie enough the thing is very close to bursting a seam. He’s watching with more than just anticipation; perhaps fear and anger. His brow furrows and he’s not blinking.
Jack’s not too concerned, until a whine breaks his spying and Toothless is there in front of them, head pushed onto Hiccup’s knees in distress. He whimpers again, nudging Hiccup, but Hiccup’s not paying attention, his movements almost automatic as he reaches down to pat Toothless; eyes still glued to the screen where Gregor can’t convince his brother to leave him.

Cripple.

Cripple, cripple, cripple.

It’s stuck like a record in Jack’s head and he knows he shouldn’t, it’s rude, its invasive and it’ll make things awkward, but he’s just so fucking curious. So contrary to the voice inside his head, Jack grabs the remote from beside him and flicks pause.

Hiccup blinked at the TV screen, face scrunching up before turning to look at Jack. Before he can ask “why?” Jack’s asking him “are you okay?”
Hiccup blinks again, owlish eyes staring back to the white haired teen who is hiding his curiosity with a worry that Hiccup doesn’t realise he’s brought upon himself, from both Human and dog alike who still had his head in Hiccup’s lap. He noticed Toothless then, noticed the pain in his palms where fingernails dug too deep.

“I’m not scared,” he says quickly. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Then what?” It’s not anger, it’s a defence mechanism and Jack identifies it easily. God, the number of times he’s got angry without a reason, his own defence mechanism unknowingly adopted for a sense of security, if only for a moment. Needless to say, Jack’s not afraid of Hiccup nor his mask of anger.
He nudges him with his foot. “Something’s bugging you.”
“Yeah, you are. I thought we were meant to be watching the film.” He doesn’t sound angry, more like confused yet the subtle bite to his words remain. Jack remains unperturbed. “And we will, when you tell me what’s bugging you.”
Hiccup gives him the stink eye. “Nothing’s bothering me.”
“Then why is Toothless worried about you?”

Jack caught him there.
There’s silence for all of two minutes before Jack is nudging Hiccup again with his foot. “Come on, spill. Or I’ll spill spoilers right up till season nine,” Jack says with a waggle of his eyebrows. At least it gets Hiccup to laugh, but the noise falls short and he’s tucking his legs around himself. Or, one of them because the other still hangs limp over the edge of the sofa in the odd way that makes Jack wonder if it’s numb.

Curiosity still niggles at him, and he doesn’t let the pair wallow in silence for much longer.

“Is it what Red said today?”
“Red?”
“You know, annoying girl who was into me, the one with the bad dye job,” Jack explains with a wave of his hand, a huff or irritation to the bitch that had almost ruined his day with her pretentious everybody-love-me attitude and the way she got all up in her face. As well as the hurtful things she said to Hiccup.

“Her name’s Rachel.”
“Like that matters,” Jack grumbled. But then he’s looking at Hiccup and the way his lips is pressed into a frown, eyes fixed on something near his foot as if he’s deep in thought. “Because what she said was well out of line—”
“She’s not wrong though.”

Hiccup’s voice is small when he speaks, his body curling tighter to the accompaniment of Toothless’s whine. Hiccup buries his hands in the dogs mane, foreheads pressed together. His cheeks are red and Jack fears a panic attack or something, but the moment passes and Toothless’s tail starts wagging.
Jack lets out the breath he was holding.

“Hic?”
“She was right. Is,” he corrects himself, staring past Toothless and the now, recalling the memory that’s been chewing at his insides, the damage inflicted far more than Jack initially realised. “I didn’t think anyone would say anything. Not after nothing on the first day. That’s usually the worst, usually there’s everyone asking questions, being nosey, trying to figure me out without stopping to think that I just want to ignore it.”
Hiccup’s talking fast, words coming out like bullets of a gun, sharp, direct. Jack watches; not sure if he should step in and calm the boy down or let him get it all out.

“I’m crippled and I’m broken and different. God that car should’ve just killed me,” he spat. “I can’t count how many times I wished it has already, but no, the damn thing only gets as far as inconveniencing me enough that I get a pity-pooch and a fake leg that hurts when I wear it too fucking long.”

Hiccup’s anger is explosive, Toothless whimpering in his lap, pulling back sharply. He barked once, twice.
Then they came in rapid fire as he spun in a circle, his volley of barks deafening what else Hiccup was saying. But he wasn’t, he was breathing quick, short breaths, hand on his throat because he couldn’t breathe—
“Hiccup!” Jack reached out, grabbing hands that begun to shake, knowing all too well what was happening. Hiccup had his eyes scrunched tight, trying to block out the panic attack before it got too much, blank to Jack calling his name, pulling him into strong arms and a guilty heart. It was his own fucking curiosity that did this, he knew it, and he was regretting asking.

God of course Hiccup wouldn’t want to talk about it. If he did, he would’ve said something about it first; calmed everyone’s curiosity and blown the whole thing over like it was nothing. It was so friggin obvious and Jack’s blatant disrespect has urged him to pester and pester and now look.
Some part of him, a nasty primal part of him took joy in seeing Hiccup curled in his arms, his brain committing the smell of Hiccup’s shampoo to memory and now he just hates himself that little bit more because here is Hiccup, hurting, and here is him, stocking up on details to add to his next fantasy because he can’t control his head or his fucking emotions.

“Uh… Jack?”

Hiccup raises his head where it’s been buried in Jack’s chest, cheeks a flame. “I’m uh… I’m good now.”
“Oh uh, yeah, yeah sure,” Jack mumbles, pulling back from where he’d been hugging Hiccup. “Sorry if that… if I did wrong,” he rambled quick, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “It’s just Punzie and Dad did that for me when I got panic attacks, I didn’t know if it would help you. Sorry I sort of just moved on my own,” he mumbled, pulling back further, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He spied his glass of cola and grabbed it, draining the glass for those precious few seconds where his mouth would be occupied and he wouldn’t say anything stupid.
But when he looks back over Hiccup is smiling. His hands are once again in Toothless’s mane, but he’s looking at Jack. “It’s okay. It definitely helped.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”

It’s awkward between them still, Jack unable to keep his eyes off of Hiccup’s legs and the standby function his Xbox has taken on, to stop the image of Hamish’s anguish burning into his TV. He can’t get Hiccup’s words out his head, about the car, about his leg. He’s guessing one of them is fake – probably the right one from the way it hangs off the sofa.
Jack’s guilt of sitting the boy down and watching Dead Walkers with him getting a recharge.

“Sorry,” Hiccup says to the silence. “For what?”
“That. I didn’t mean to… well, you know…”
“It’s not your fault,” Jack says but he still can’t keep his eyes off of Hiccup’s leg and stop staring Jack you’re being weird. “No I guess not,” Hiccup sighs. He rubs the thigh of his right leg, his words snapping back into Jack’s head that possible the leg is hurting him. He doesn’t know how long is ¬too long ¬to be wearing a prosthetic, but perhaps it’s different for everyone.
“If it’s hurting you, you can take it off. I won’t judge,” Jack says, schooling his voice placid. Hiccup’s eyes find his and there’s that same feeling of guilt. Jack’s not trying to push him up against a wall, but maybe that’s what he’s doing with all this pointed staring, the conversation falling quickly onto the boy’s self-decided flaw.

“No, it’s not hurting,” Hiccup says quietly. His hand has still, yet still remains laid on his thigh. Toothless, who had settled on the carpet, raised his head. Hiccup motioned for him to lie back down and the dog followed the command.

Beside him is the bowl of green sour sweets; the ones he doesn’t like. Instinctively Jack grabs the bowl and holds it out to Hiccup. “Sours?”
Hiccup raises an eyebrow, but a smile worms its way back onto his face. “Yeah thanks.” He takes the bowl, telling Toothless “no” who eyes it hungrily.

“Um, do you want to continue watching, or play games or something?” Jack asks, nodding to the TV screen. He’s waiting for Hiccup to shake him off, offer up an excuse and head on home; desperate to escape the awkwardness they both feel – Hiccup’s still blushing.
But despite Jack’s fears, Hiccup’s grin widens. “Nah, we can keep watching this. Unless you’re bored of it, but if that’s the case I’m borrowing the box set so I can watch it when I get home.”

It takes a while, perhaps to the end of the episode before the boy’s are relaxed again. Jack is aware of the quiescent of the boy’s leg beside him, the slight space the hangs between them. Determined to show Hiccup Jack couldn’t care less about his differences – (the boy has enough of his own that might send Hiccup running to the hills if he ever found out) – when it came to changing the disc, he made a point of sitting back down closer than before, knees bumping together, Hiccup’s limp arm having to rest on Jack’s thigh for the lack-of space between them.
Hiccup doesn’t notice, or maybe it’s a conscious thought not to say anything. Whatever. Jack is content to take comfort from the boy’s closeness, the fact he doesn’t move away, even after four rolls around and Punzie throws her head in the room to announce she’s home. She eyes the close-enough-to-be-cuddling pair but a warning look from Jack silences her waggling tongue.
Besides, Toothless does a wonderful job of distracting her, the dog happy to follow her from the room when she decides she’s going to cook dinner, leaving the boys and their zombie thing – she’s not a fan of the whole guts and gory show, despite its hot cast.

“Sister?” Hiccup asks, shuffling on the sofa. “The one and only.” Jack’s managed to lay his arm on the back, and to any outsiders these two are definitely cuddling, but they’re not they’re just close and- no thoughts stay clean.
“I’m not invading by staying here, am I?” Hiccup asked, still worried he’s unwelcome. Jack told him, again, that that wasn’t the case and he’s welcome for dinner. “My Dad’s pretty chill about this sort of stuff. I can have anyone stay whenever as long as we don’t make too much noise and I’m at college on time the next day.”
“What about your mom?”

Jack couldn’t stop himself from flinching at the sudden turn in direction; Hiccup quick to apologise when he realised he’d crossed an unknown line. But Jack just shrugged is concern off. “It’s cool. She couldn’t care less what I do, and I don’t care for her, it’s as simple as that.” He knows Hiccup’s looking at him, but whatever expression he wears turns their attention back to the TV screen where a Zombie’s head goes flying after Max uses a golf club to decapitate the chaser’s that remain on the groups tail.

Jack slouched back into the sofa, grinning when Hiccup shifted to hug the penguin plushie, following suit, body pressed tighter to Jack’s.
These Dead Walkers marathons had better start becoming a weekly thing, because Jack was already addicted.

Notes:

So I had actually planned the boy's to come out to one another here, but it just felt a little too soon. Don't worry, it doesn't take too long for them to admit to liking boys.
But admitting to liking one another? You'll just have to see...

Chapter 5: Tempting Fate, Because Apparently I'm An Idiot

Summary:

Life if going perfect... but for how long?

Notes:

So I had this amazing, totally fantastic, brilliant idea of the Coffee House, and decided to throw it in here. Why? Just because.

MONDAY 2nd October

Hiccup stepped off of his front door step, grinning to himself like a kid that’s just been rewarded a lifetime supply of chocolate.
College life suits him, and despite the increased workload of homework, Hiccup isn’t sure he can recall a happier time in his life.

Toothless is certainly loving College too, and now that Hiccup is becoming more settled in the grounds and with his slowly growing group of friends, the over-grown puppy gets a bit more room on his leash.
Truthfully, the leash has completely been thrown out the window, Toothless happy to stick to Hiccup’s side with the call of his name. But come Lunch and break periods, when Hiccup and his friends take up residence on the back fields near the old rugby pitch, Toothless is racing back and forth with Aster and the guys, trying to tackle them for the empty tin can they kick about.
Finley, the younger Vanguard twin, once made the mistake of bringing a real football, but ten minutes into the game, Toothless had successfully turned the soccer ball into a deflated chew toy. Hiccup replaced it of course, but the boy’s learnt their lesson that a football was no match to a fifty eight pound wolf-hybrid.

College life aside, Hiccup’s social life had final taken wing. All thanks to Jack.
It was from his happy-go-lucky attitude that Hiccup ended up getting dragged along one day when he and some of the guys from his Music class wanted to explore the City. The boys; Aster and Cloud, were transfers from Australia and as much as a newbie as Jack when it came to knowing the city.
Hiccup was delegated (as in without his consultation) as their glorified tour guide, but considering Cloud was already driving his own car, Hiccup had been happy to accept the free ride into the city. It certainly took the awkwardness out of catching a bus with Toothless in his bright yellow high-vis harness that made him stand out like a store thumb.

With Jack and the boys, it ended up being easy to ignore the crowds and the stares that followed him throughout the Quays. Hiccup had thoroughly enjoyed himself.

Toothless had been good as gold, as usual, happy to browse alongside Hiccup as the boys ducked in and out of clothing stores, up to the food court and into the game centre on the second floor.
Jack got lost at one point – although he swears blind he wasn’t – and they found him window shopping outside Run, the new shoe shop that was advertising a custom design sale. “Five minutes?” Jack had said, turning back to the boys with puppy-dog eyes cute enough to rival Toothless.
Four custom orders and two pairs of running shoes later, Hiccup had declared he wanted to hit one more shop before they all headed to Jack’s place for a planned gaming session in which Aster was “totally going to destroy Jack’s victory streak once and for all.”

With three curious idiots in tow, Hiccup had headed out of the shopping complex, down towards the docks. But instead of heading South to the Arcades and Piers, he’d dragged them through the fish market, then back up past the green to the housing estate overlooking the coast. Hiccup led the way through a maze of back alleys, which had included several “don’t kill us” jokes – to the out-of-the-way hybrid hipster ice-cream/coffee house/artist/music store.

It’s just as ludicrous as Gobber’s Viking restaurant, except this place screams of professional, off-handle artistry that has Hiccup hooked in the shades of blue, gold and silver that arches over its main outer wall. Painted saxophones and glimmering microphones pour waterfalls of colour, a mix with music notes and ice cream cones, cats, unicorns and skulls. Why? Because Art.
The large building was an end cap to a row of city houses and enclosed by a private parking lot on its other side. The building itself was a townhouse, old traditional style and towering four stories high; each floor a different theme of mural that integrated everything and anything this shop could possibly hold.

The bottom floor started in a wash of dark colours; royal blues, cool slates and splashes of wine, shapes of musical instruments, soft tones of jazz and pop, heavy rock dug deep into the brick work. Piano keys, like the spine of a dragons tail, stood as steps to the second floor and its balcony terrace and explosion of green; green bamboo shoots splayed tall and proud in potted plants behind wrought iron fencing, green feathered fronds painted on the walls, green tropical birds, green and white words of famous books articulating quotes that survived history because of their sheer genius and raw emotion.
The third floor faded into pale yellows and creams; a vision of a sherbet, ice cream land with cartoon lolly pops, cats, unicorns and sparkles that glinted in the sun. Tubby and fluffy Calico cats curled around ice cream Mountains, dripping shades of pastel delicacies and rainbow sprinkles that nestle kittens and puppies and starry-eyed pandas munching on watermelon slices, blending nicely with the dripping paint of the fourth floor mural. It was the colour of traditional candy apples, the lustrous red streaks of a rising dawn with the ferocity of lava and smoothness of velvet draped lovingly around windows the peeked into the attic room of Hiccup’s favourite place in Berk Central: “But First, Coffee.”

“Hiccup…. Fucking wow!” Jack grinned, staring up at the mural with wonderment in his eyes. Aster and Cloud had stared with as much awe, the three waiting Hiccup’s lead into the quirky backstreet treasure.
The repurposed townhouse (or more accurately three combined) was a treasure trove for any aspiring artist, coffee lover or budding musician, its mural a beacon that attracted anyone and everyone with an eye for artistry or perhaps a curiosity that could never be sated once inside the shop.

The first floor immediately enchanted the boys the second they walked in the door, what with the custom guitars hung on gleaming copper pipes in true underground fashion, each instrument was a work of art in itself, unique and expertly crafted. A lustrous red drum kit sat ready and waiting to be played in the far corner, amps lining the back wall, pointing towards the vinyl records and sheet music that lined the walls of the back room.
The wall of the staircase that sat behind the counter held an array of plectrums that were pinned to form an art piece of ‘King of Reggae, Bob Marley’, a thousand more designs in little glass cabinets on turning plates, alongside piccolos, flutes, clarinets. A harp stood next to a stand of cellos, basses and violins. Beside that banjos and ukuleles, not even mentioning the shiny brass instruments in the second section just past the percussion stands.

The prize place on the bay window was taken residence by a bright yellow Steinway Grand Piano, the dorsal of its fall board signed by none other than John Powell, one of Hiccup’s favourite composers.
He had made a deal with Casey Junior, the owner of “But First Coffee,” that it was to be Hiccup’s. He paid the man in monthly instalments, using commission money from selling digital works online, as well as reward money from competitions he entered in, not to mention his wage of working here in the Summer months.
Just another forty odd grand to go; and the piano was his.

Leaving the boys to their browsing, Hiccup headed up to the second floor, where Casey and his wife April manned the Coffee/Ice Cream floor. “Toothless!” Naturally Einstein was there too, Casey and April’s four year old son. The kid rugby tackled Toothless in a tight fisted grip, much to the laughter of the second-floor’s patrons.

Hiccup was tackled himself, although by April who pulled him into a warm hug, the two of them laughing at the awkwardness around her belly bump. “You made me wait a whole month Hiccup! Where have you been?”
“College,” was his reply, but apparently that wasn’t good enough, what with April’s pouting. “You should skip lessons and come hang out again. It’s boring here without you.”
“I doubt you could get Hic to skip. He’s a goody-two-shoes to the core.”

They turned around to see Jack stood atop the stairs, obviously having come to find his friend rather than marvel at the instruments downstairs, but then, Cloud and Aster were there too; smiles of awe still plastered on their faces as they stood in the pastel-soft coffee shop, looking at overly-cute-but-not-sickly-cute theme of cats, unicorns and kawaii characters.
The creams and pastel pinks are broken by potted plants, natural wooden tables and vibrant greens of potted plants. April favours the bamboo plants and the Japanese chibi characters; stickers, paintings and plump little cushions in the separate booths that line the wall on the far side. Stars hang from the ceiling like baby mobiles, spinning gently in the breeze pulled in from the open balcony doors leading to the extended seating area and the art garden, in which Einstein is chasing Toothless around the metal work models and neatly trimmed hedgerows.

“This is Jack, Cloud and Aster. Guys, this is April and Casey. They own the shop,” Hiccup said, making introductions between his friends. He knew these three would become frequent guests, considering their love for music and art, and Hiccup glad to share this treasure with them. Aster was as much of a bookworm as Hiccup, so he’d appreciate the library on the third floor while Cloud and Jack would appreciate the art.

“I love it,” was the first thing to leave Jack’s mouth, much to April and Casey’s amusement. The friends hung about for another hour, drinking copious amounts of coffee and stocking up on ice cream while Cloud and Casey had in-depth music-orientated conversations. At one point Aster disappeared to the third floor, leaving Hiccup and April to catch up with gossip and such, telling Jack stories about working part-time and the fact April helped Hiccup with designing the renovations to the “Viking Longboat.”

Although the woman was seven years older, April was as boisterous and childish as a teenager, the two getting on like a house on fire all the times that Hiccup worked here for the past three summers. It was calmer than Gobber’s shop and paid better than most, even though Hiccup should’ve been on less-than student rates.

The married couple are chill in every aspect in life, almost classic hippies without choking on the whole peace and love, drugs and “one with nature” gag, badly portrayed in movies and the like.
When there was a break in customers, April and Casey would let Hiccup study coursework or read varying genres of anthologies. “It is the duty of a student,” they would say, and the place was as much a haven to Hiccup as the Gobber’s restaurant or his attic room back home—

“What’cha thinking about?”

Hiccup looked up from where he was daydreaming to see his friend leant against the fencing of the woodland border. Toothless barked a greeting, as Hiccup ran forward, pulling his headphones down as he did. “Jack, hey. What are you doing here?”
“Driving lesson. I got Stuart to drop me off here so we can walk into college together.”
“Wait, you mean you’ve just had a lesson?” Hiccup wondered, pulling out his phone to check the time as the two fell in step beside one another, heading to College. “Bloody hell Jack, it’s only just gone eight. How early did you get up?”
“Don’t know. It was still dark.”
“You’re going to fall asleep in class.”
“Am not.”

Jack didn’t in fact end up falling asleep in class, although Hiccup kept catching him yawn every time he looked over to him across the classroom. Mr. Frederick kept catching Jack too, asking if his lesson was too boring, much to the amusement of the class.

“Homework? As punishment for yawning?” Jack whined as they packed up. “Jack, we all got homework.”
“Yeah, but still.” It was the classic “review this clip and write how you would improve it” malarkey, with Jack already promising to buy Hiccup pizza if they could work on it together. “I thought you enjoyed Media.”
“Hic, its homework. No one enjoys it.”
“Careful Frost, or I’ll give you extra an assignment for mouthing,” Mr. Frederick called from the front of the class. Jack shut up sharply, much to Hic’s amusement. He dismissed himself with a quick “meet you outside Music” and was gone before Mr. Frederick could hold true to his threat.

Hiccup followed soon after, heading to his next lesson with Toothless leading the way, wagging his tail to the other student’s greetings. It seemed Toothless had become the school’s mascot, which was fine considering no one said a bad word about Hiccup. Or, if they did, he didn’t hear it. Who cares anyway? Life was good, his social life practically perfect and Jack is always at the end of the phone if he ever wants to chat.

Hiccup grinned to himself, completely in his own world. He didn’t notice the predatory stare that was sent his way. He didn’t notice the fiery red-headed girl at the far end of the corridor watching him with narrowed eyes, nor the way she leant against the boy beside her.
Hiccup didn’t notice the way she wrapped her arms around Dagur’s neck, whispering dark things into his ear with a malicious smile upon her lips, pressing them gently to the corner of his scowl. He didn’t notice her brother; his piercing yellow eyes fixed on Hiccup’s retreating figure, his angular face tilted in amusement.

“Soon?”
“Soon.”

Notes:

Dun dun dun....

Chapter 6: Oh What Fresh Hell Is This?

Summary:

Oh what fresh hell precisely. Hiccup’s perfect life was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Notes:

Another short one, sort of like a Chapter 5 part 2.

MONDAY 2nd October

Photography, as it so happened, was just as interesting as Media, even without Jack there to distract him every few seconds with comically drawn scribbles of their teacher. Although Hiccup did wonder just how Jack would depict Manny; an elderly, balding man with a single line of hair stood up from his head, looking like a human-version of a Tele-tubby.
Actually, Hiccup didn’t want to know. If he found out, he doubted he’d be able to sit through another photography lesson without it popping into his head at one point.

This week is focusing on revising last week’s works. Manny let everyone take turns to develop their photos in the Dark Room (Toothless stayed outside), and then they sat in a group discussing the voted top five. Then he went into detail about zoom, effective blurriness, focus and other jargon that Hiccup tried to remember.
It was helpful, even in the idea of drawing, and although Hiccup thought he had a good understanding of focus and contrast, Manny definitely had plenty more tips to offer.

It was Art though, that was the most interesting lesson of the day.
After a quick trip to the Tuck Shop with Jack and some of the guys, the trio headed back to Art, deciding to sit in the classroom to wait until the lesson actually started rather than start a game of hacky sack. Hiccup was surprised when Jack spilled a quick lie about talking assignments with Tatiana, grinning when he and Hiccup were alone (as alone as you can be with Toothless permanently attached to ones hip) and the teen questioned Jack’s true motives.
“Sorry, guess I’m tired and I just wanted to chill. You can still go—”
“No, it’s good,” Hiccup said, grinning back, although his smile meant something different to Jack’s lopsided half-attempt, marred by a yawn.

The class was empty when they arrived, bother taking up their respective chairs side by side at the back of the class, idly chatting to fill the remaining ten minutes until the bell.

“You know Tatiana is going to want our project details,” Hiccup muttered when she re-entered the room, arms full of resources for the dreaded project that both boys had been putting off for the past three weeks. After Red had quit Art as a subject, Hiccup and Jack had been left as a pair. But with so much other homework, the two only spent lesson time on their project, which was still only a scrap of paper with random sketches and badly written ideas that none either were particularly enthusiastic about.
“Sssh, we’ll just wing it,” Jack muttered, sliding properly into his chair as the bell rung and the girls began to appear, one by one, scarfing down the remainder of their food. Toothless was keen to help, of course and his puppy dog eyes and cute wagging tail earned him a few treats.

Jack’s idea of winging it was easier to accept than to fake a plan, but as the lesson dragged on and the boy’s were absorbed in their own drawings, Hiccup’s energy levels depleted repeatedly. He kept sighing, batting Toothless’s nose away, who detected the low levels of happiness.
But he couldn’t wave off Jack, who let concern fill his voice; dragging up guilt in Hiccup’s stomach for making his friend worry about something he wasn’t even sure he was getting upset over.

“Seriously. What's up,” Jack pressed, serious, but not demanding an answer after Hiccup kept waving him off. His persistence wouldn’t let up, Hiccup knew that and although he didn’t want to, he buckled. “I don't know really. Maybe a lot of things,” he said slowly. He avoided mentioning the fact he was missing his old friends from school. He didn't mention Astrid either, who had cancelled plans to visit during the half-term break.
“It's just my Dad,” he went with in the end, talking about something that didn't bother him as much as the rest. “He's keeping to himself more than usual. I don't think we've actually talked to each other in the last two weeks.”
That was a lie. They hadn’t spoken to each other in two years, but Hiccup had definitely noticed the lack of presence in the house lately. Not that he was complaining. Perhaps… more curious?

The white-haired boy is nodding thoughtfully, charcoal sketch abandoned as he thinks. “I get what you mean. Some nights my Dad doesn't even make it home back from his office. But I have Punzie to look after and talk to so I don't mind. Dad doesn't mean it, but it's easier for him if he shacks up on his office couch than commuting home for four or five hours before rushing back in for meeting this and factory checks that.”
Jacks’ voice dropped at the end, Hiccup quick to perk up before his friend got depressed at how overworked his dad got. “I've got Toothless so I'm not lonely, but I guess the quiet isn’t something I’m used to. And I’m not one for quiet.”

Hiccup shut his eyes. He didn't think he was bothered by his Dad's attitude, but he was wrong. It bugged him greatly.
Stoick was never home anymore. Hiccup tried to think the last time he’d seen, or heard his dad in the house. He knows he’s there before he wakes up, and he’ll hear him come in as he’s drifting off to sleep… Huh. He’s not actually sure when the last time he saw his dad was.

“Oh no,” Jack groaned softly, covering his ears as he looked up to the sight of Tatiana stood near the front. “Hiccup hide me.”
“Hide yourself, we’re both in this together,” Hiccup hissed, wondering how much trouble he’d get into if he faked an emergency exit.

“Right, that’s the halfway mark,” Tatiana clapped from the front of the room, her singsong voice loud over the sound of the college bell. “I'm coming around to see some Concepts. I'm not expecting anything finished, though,” she said, spotting nervous glances. But Jack's was mainly because he and his partner had practically made no progress over than rough sketches for the basic words on their A3 handout.
Jack tried to hide behind his bag some more, much to Hiccup's amusement, giving him the good opportunity to poke him in the ribcage, tongue poked out to the glower sent his way.

Tatiana made her way to the three by the window, leaving Jack to raise his head off the desk and look pathetically at Hiccup. “I can't think,” he grumbled quietly. “What's the project even about again?”
“That's what we've got to decide, idiot,” Hiccup hissed with another well aimed jab that caught Jack just under the arm. He opened the folded up handout, covered in scrawls and scribbles, letting Jack look at their almost-joint effort. “We still have to decide what word we're focusing on,” seeing the list Tatiana had provided, taken from the Art Assignment Association.
They sat side on to the rest of the class, hoping to look busy. It didn't seem to be working, as Tatiana quickly finished with the trio by the window. But before Hiccup could command Toothless to bark on command and make a hasty retreat, the Art door burst open.

A girl was seemingly frogmarched in by some man in a suit, who looked a bit too grumpy for Hiccup's liking. He looked important but the pompous irritating kind that would constantly remind everyone of one’s self importance; the spectacles balanced on the brim of his nose, a bit too straight, his tie neatly pressed and no sign of lint nor dust on his navy blue pinstripe suit.
The girl in question was the exact opposite. Not primped and proper but rebellious to the core. She was wearing a slightly baggy burgundy Tee, the words “ Rebel Against The System,” paint splattered across the front, obviously hand-painted. She was wearing ripped shorts that were barely legal. Any shorter and Hiccup was sure he would've been able to see her underwear, had it not been for the crimson and blue tartan boy's shirt tied around her waist to give her a half-skirt sort of look.
Her old black backpack was slung over her right shoulder, the other strap missing. It was covered in pins and its own blood splatter design, the words “ I licked it so it’s mine” in Hiccup’s handwriting painted in white paint down the centre.

It was then that the girl met Hiccup's gaze and in a split second of realisation, Hiccup realised that his peaceful College life was over.

Notes:

Any guess to who the newcomer is?

Chapter 7: He's MY Crush, So Back Off

Summary:

Jack gets unnecessarily jealous of Hiccup’s “Friend”

MONDAY 2nd October

Jack grinned as Hiccup rambled on about the project, yet he wasn’t listening. Art was one of his favourite subjects, made so much better after Red had quit. When he found out, Jack couldn’t help but give himself a slight, and well-awarded, fist pump. He didn’t feel remotely responsible for her pulling out of the course; he didn’t tell her to – that was her choice. His little display towards her had been karma, nothing but, justly deserved after the words she used to his best friend.
And if Jack felt a little pleased with himself…? Well, he didn’t make it a thing to tell everyone that he was glad he said what he did. He was, but that was his business.

The snow-haired boy was smiling as he watched Hiccup talking about the project, chewing the end of his pencil absentmindedly, reminding Jack constantly to help him before Tatiana comes over. Jack obliged of course, content for them just to be a pair in the back of class.
The boy wasn’t at all thinking about how now it would just be him and Hiccup. He certainly wasn’t letting his mind wander to one of his many detailed daydreams; where he and the freckled teen would be working late at night, laid out on the floor of his bedroom as they talked over a display of different sketches or paintings, trying to see what would work best where, the colour contrast and all that finicky arty stuff that pulls a painter away from the emotion of the work.
It doesn’t matter about that, because Hiccup would stand up, trying to get to his phone which was ringing, but he’d trip and somehow, he’d land on top of Jack. Hiccup would try to pull away, flustered, his cute little nose bright red, as bright as flushing cheeks and the prominent freckles dusted underneath his eyes.

Jack would smile, he’d tell him “it’s okay,” a hand on Hiccup’s wrist, keeping it where it presses on his chest as Hiccup moved to stand up. But with Jack’s eyes, wide and soft, offering a silent invitation, Hiccup doesn’t pull back. The closeness isn’t awkward at all. Instead, it’s comfortable, and they both share the feeling that it is too much.
Hiccup would blush again, mirroring the same heat that sits on Jack’s cheeks as he reached up to place one hand on the back of Hiccup’s head, his fingers twisting themselves into the boy’s nest of hair, fingers trailing down his nape in soft little touches. Like butterfly kisses.
Gently, ever so sweetly….
Jack would smile again. Hiccup would smile with him, slowly leaning in, guided, invited by the hand that rests on the back of his hand, simply laid there and pulling him in at the same time.
Hiccup wouldn’t fight it, he wants it too. His sweet breath against Jack’s moist lips, almost touching…

Almost….
Realising that, right now wasn’t the best time for a hard-on and no focus, Jack tried to find something to distract him. Spying Tatiana at the front of the class got his attention, but it didn’t make him go limp. Neither did imagining naked girls. Naked Hiccup though, that’s a nice —NO!

“Hiccup, hide me,” Jack hissed, trying to hide the blush that made his ears hot. He leant forward, trying not to meet eyes with Toothless, who somehow had this disbelieving look on his face, like he just knew what Jack was thinking. He could probably smell Jack’s pheromones or something. Damn it!
Luckily Hiccup didn’t notice. He just threw an irritated glare (totally put-on) and tried not to look just as worried as Jack, although the pair of them were feeling apprehension for two completely different reasons.

“Right, that’s the halfway mark,” Tatiana clapped from the front of the room, her singsong voice laughing at Jack as much as the college bell that had indicated another hour of lesson, and the time limit for free-time.
Jack tried to bury his head in the desk when Tatiana announced she was going to visit each of the groups to check on where they were at, her smile widening when it fell on Jack’s nervous glance. It was okay though, she didn’t know.

The boy’s attempts to camouflage himself, his bag and the desk into the background was rudely countered by a sharp jab to the ribs, thanks to Jack’s sweet, innocent little crush. When Jack glowered, Hiccup just poked out his tongue. And god did he look cute.
But now was not the time for fantasies, when Tatiana was making good on her threat, starting by Cassie’s group over by the window. This time, they had to get some actual work done, and with both boys simultaneously agreeing, they put their heads together (literally) and read through the assignment.

“I can't think,” Jack grumbled quietly, staring at the letters that decided they were going to play tag across the page. Was it his imagination? Or was he delirious?
“What's the project even about again?”
“That's what we've got to decide, idiot,” Hiccup hissed with another well aimed jab that caught Jack just under the arm. Jack would say he didn’t squeak, but then he’d be lying.

The next five minutes were dedicated to brainstorming. And considering the boys hadn’t really been focused much in the previous lessons, nor given their project much thought, when they agreed to at least focus on the Identity heading, and Jack was talking about Zombies again, a doodle on the bottom hand corner of the page already—

Suddenly, something banged loudly, rudely jerking the boys from their planning, the entire class sharing the same jolt of fright. They were a herd of deer, caught in the headlights of two forest-green eyes, daring and frightening. The newcomer had burst through the classroom door with enough noise to wake the dead, followed quickly by a huffing-puffing somebody, that scolded the young Lady about manners and the etiquette of knocking on doors.
The girl didn’t even bother to face him, ignoring the hand he placed on her shoulder as she scanned the faces of everyone in the room, her green-fire eyes alight like witch-flames. Her hair held the same orange glow; a mess of curls of vibrant shades, highlighted with blondes and under-toned in deep reds. It looked like they would devour a hairbrush, if such a thing was ever attempted as brushing it. The only attempts of control were given to the strands tucked behind her ears, round and forward much like a gnome. The features matched her button nose and impish grin; sparkling with a mischievousness that Jack often saw in his own smile.

The girl had pale skin like Hiccup, the same dusting of freckles under her eyes, although Hiccup’s were far cuter.
Her fingers were twitching slightly, pulling at the strands of her satchel bag, but everything else screamed pride and confidence as she stood there, staring everyone down. It was as if she was trying to figure them all out in the few seconds she allowed her eyes to take everything in.
The girl’s eyes landed on Jack and narrowed ever so slightly before burning with a light that Jack couldn’t quite figure out. He felt challenged, unsettled and confident all at once.

Then the stranger noticed the teen to Jack’s immediate left.

“HICCUP!”

The girl ripped away from the man, breaking his grip on her shoulder as she tore across the classroom, unaware, or just not concerned, of the second wave of shock that she caused at her sudden ear-splitting shriek and the mad dash that would’ve seen her tripping over tables and bags alike if she didn’t take the easy route and jump up onto the table.
The girl was pure energy, confined into the fleshy prison of a human. She was a three-year old, with boundless energy and the agility of a young Olympic athlete with the way she vaulted the last desk and practically rugby tackled Hiccup right out his chair and into the wall. If it hadn’t had been there, they would’ve ended up sprawled on the floor, but the girl probably knew that. And probably didn’t care.

Jack cared though, his mind jumping to Hiccup’s leg and the fragility of the boy, who was confined in the arms of this strange creature, red cheeked and wide eyed as she wrapped her hands around his chest and squeezed. The wall didn’t support them both for long however, and Hiccup’s inability to move his right leg too quick caused them to stumbled backwards, into a desk, not quite tumbling to the floor, instead sprawled back against the surface as Toothless joined the chaos, barking in excitement.
By the time the girl pulled herself off of Hiccup to give Toothless attention, the boy’s face was a bright purple, spluttering for breath as well as an understanding. “Wha— What? Merida? What the hell are you doing here?” Jack would’ve laughed at the way Hiccup’s voice had cracked if it wasn’t for that fact that he was completely shocked, so much so he couldn’t really process what had occurred in the past minute. Out the corner of his eye, he was vaguely aware of Tatiana and the man talking quickly. She didn’t seem too surprised by the invader’s entrance, although maybe she was just hiding her surprise behind amusement, periodic turns of the head telling Jack she was quick to learn she’d have to keep an eye on this girl.
Jack too. Looked like she knew Hiccup. And Toothless, who was licking her face off, rubbing him down, her joyous smile still directed towards Hiccup, who still waiting for his mind to catch up to him.

Hiccup hadn’t told Jack that his friend was in their class. Or, newly appointed to the class, because they hadn’t been in any of their other classes before. Unless Hiccup didn’t know. Then that would explain why he didn’t tell Jack. Not that he had to tell Jack.
But he would’ve. Because the two of them were best friends.

What was this? Was he really being pathetically jealous over this intruder he barely knows anything about?
Yeah. That’s what it was. No point in trying to turn the jealously into anything else, as Jack find’s his brow furrowing when this ginger-fuzzball pets Toothless one last time before throwing her arms once more around Hiccup. She doesn’t squeeze this time. Instead, he hugs her back.

“Merida, what happened? Why are you back home?”
The girl, Merida, just laughed at Hiccup’s momentary glitch in tone – Jack still incapable – letting themselves return to Toothless, who had calmed down enough that now he was merely tasting her face rather than trying to dissolve it with slobber. “Could nae hack it up North. Too bludy braw. Besides, was figurin’ you’d be missin’ me abit now, sae I thought I’d come bide down ‘ere instead. It works ‘cus their parents are travellin'. They've got room fer me.”

“Are Elinor and Fergus home too? What happened to his job?” Hiccup demanded, his tone a mix of confusion and pure delight. He was grinning from ear to ear, the corners of his mouth pulled tight.
“Nae. Mom an auld yin stayed back up North. I hated me classmates up there. Kept talkin' shit me, sae I tauld them tae mince it an' applied fer a transfer tae ‘ere. I’m stayin' with Mei-Lin an' Freddie, ‘til Angus an’ I can get our own place.”

Jack tried to concentrate on what they were saying, but his head was getting a bit crowded with his own thoughts and the fact that he had no bloody clue what this girl was even saying!
All Jack knew was that Hiccup knew this girl. They seemed friendly. Really friendly.
The smile on the teen’s face was enough to say that whoever it was, he was glad to see her again, reaching out with his hands to grab hers, like he wasn’t completely sure if she was here and not where she was meant to be. Toothless was just as happy, pressing his body to her legs, whining when she wouldn’t stroke him or give him attention.

“But you just left,” Hiccup was saying. Obviously, he hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact that Merida was here now. And staying.
“It’s only been two months and you’re already back? How did you get into the Academy? Does that mean your family are going to come home as well? Does Astrid know you’re back, did you tell her? What about Gobber, does he know, because he didn’t tell me.” Hiccup was almost talking as fast as the girl, unaware that now everyone in the room was watching the little exchange with amusement. With the exception of Jack, whose feelings of amusement were replaced with the niggling of wariness and jealousy. And probably a little bit of anger too.

The girl was still talking a mile a minute, but Jack was starting to get the gist of their conversation.
“One: After I got in-tae a bit a shit with sum’ body, almost star’ ed throwing fists, Maw and auld yin agreed tae let me come back. Two,” the girl said, holding up her fingers as she answered each of Hiccup’s questions in turn.
“Mei-Lin was the one who helped me apply, an' sorted it all out, paperwork an all. Three: nae. Four: nae, an' five: nae,” she said, lifting her finger and wiggling it in Hiccup’s face. He called her a cradle-robber. She called him a peg-leg.
“The only ones that knew I was comin' ‘ere was Mei, Freddie an' Angus. But I knew I was comin' ‘ere an' I wanted tae surprise ye. Ah just did ’ne realise we was gonnae be in the same class!”

… No, no, Jack was still confused.

Hiccup snorted – endearingly cute and adorable – as he began giggling. “I bet your mom is pulling her hair out. Can’t believe you got her to agree, even after all the fuss they made about you guys moving back up for the company move.” He snorted again, the two of them completely in their own little world, their reunion their only focus as they talked, quicker and quicker without taking a breath.

Jack couldn’t quite decide if he wanted to smile or not. On one hand, Hiccup was being cute. But then his eyes flickered to the girl – the reason for Hiccup’s current euphoria, and whatever smile had been pulling at his lips, vanished immediately.
When Hiccup pulled her in for another hug, Jack felt that all too-familiar tightening in his chest. It furrowed his brows and made his hands cold. Suddenly today was shit, and he was in an instant bad mood. Toothless noticed – not as infatuated with the Scottish ball of energy as Jack thought – coming to nose his knee, a whimper in the back of his throat when Jack gave him a small smile and tickled the pup just behind his ears. It was a comfort, but Merida’s confessions of missing Hiccup shredded whatever relief Toothless gave, his fingers hurting as he made to keep his eyes averted from where Hiccup and Merida were holding hands, them idly swinging back and forth from where neither could stop and stand still for five minutes.
So much for peace and quiet. If this girl was going to be a permanent addition to Hiccup’s college life, Jack was going to be set on the back burner. The thought made his chest tighten again, the slow coil of jealousy wrapping itself around his heart, constricting painfully. She caused Hiccup to smile that million-dollar smile, when his lips parted and his toothy grin shone through. She was the reason Hiccup’s eyes were lit up like lights on a Christmas tree, the slight blush on his nose from whatever thoughts were going through his head.
Merida threw herself back into Hiccup’s arms, snuggling into his chest, and suddenly Hiccup is blushing a deep shade of pink.

Jack cursed internally.
He would rather take Red’s obnoxious flirting and blatant rudeness to this; that his Hiccup was going googly eyes over some ginger menace. The frost boy was used to Hiccup not really having anyone else to talk to and, selfishly, he liked it that way. He liked it when it was just the two of them in Art, and that Hiccup would tag along with him when they didn’t feel the need to be with the other guys, or that Hiccup’s first choice to hang with on the weekend was Jack, and their Thursday routine and that they go to April and Casey’s shop every Friday for free ice cream while they study.

Jack was going to lose it all.

Notes:

Okay, so please excuse Merida’s speech. Just let me know if it’s hard to read – I just wanted to try and write emphasising her accent still.

Chapter 8: Two Plus Jack And Dog

Summary:

Jack is a jealous idiot.
Hiccup is an oblivious dork.
Merida might just be having the time of her life.

MONDAY 2nd October

Art was Jack’s most hated subject. It had been fine in the beginning, when he realised the little freckled cutie and his bacon-and-cheese-sandwich-stealing dog were also in attending. It had got infinitely better when the bitchy red-head up and quit, with Jack getting his hopes up that now it’s just him and Hic on their project.
But no. The universe and all it’s irritating plans with screwing Jack over, have to go and do in such a way that now his mini group of two-plus-dog, is now two-plus-Jack. And dog.

Two-plus-Jack-and-dog didn’t get a chance to do much more than focus on their art assignment when Tatiana so helpfully reminded the boys that the new girl: Merida, didn’t know much of the assignment and that they could have the lesson time dedicated to catching her up to speed on what they were already doing.
Okay, so the universe was trying to win back Jack’s favour. But it wasn’t enough for Jack to grant his forgiveness. Yet.

So, working it was, with Jack left no other choice than to keep his head down and work, trying to block out the rampant excited squealing beside him. “So Mei-Lin is putting up with you? For how long? Does that mean you’re already looking to get your own place with Angus or—”
“Well, fer the time bein’, Angus is boardin’ with Max in the dorms,” Ginger said, nicknamed so politely by Jack - honestly his imagination is spectacular. “He’s jus’ paid fer the term, an’ I nae gonnae meddle while he’s thrang. ‘Sides, Maw trusts Mei tae keep a yak on me.”
“Probably because Max is guarding the dorms and Mei wouldn’t be too appreciate of you and Angus sexing it up in her house.”
“Says who? She’s screwin’ Scotty whenever Freddie’s out.” Which apparently his hilarious because Hiccup starts shit-giggling until he’s almost hacking up a lung. Toothless doesn’t raise his head in concern, so neither does Jack, silently pouting beside them, actually putting in the effort to get this project done. He’s not up for the idea of the three of them needing to spend extra time out of curriculum catching up. Not that that time would be better spent hanging with Hiccup, who is going to want to catch up with his… girlfriend?
From the snorts and giggles and pure infatuation in Hiccup’s smile, it’s not hard to figure it out. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

They kept on harping about this and that, somehow with Hiccup managing to add in little instructions and explanations about the project and the like. Everything that was said went over Jack’s head and out the window. He wasn’t trying to pay much attention to their conversation in the first place, still glaring a little too obviously at the way Merida keeps stealing Hiccup’s pen from his hand to write something down, or just grabbing his hand so he can write while she guides. It’s sickly-sweet love.
Jack isn’t sure whether its possible to feel heartbreak, but this weight in his chest isn’t exactly hunger.

They’re still going on, off in their own little world. It isn’t that long until Jack’s attempts at veiling his irritation begins to dissipate. Not if Toothless’ head on his lap is any indication. But the fluffy anchor to reality isn’t keeping Jack’s thoughts in check as he angrily scribbles out the words partner that have somehow slipped from brain to paper. Isn’t their project about change? This isn’t the change he wanted though.

He doesn’t want
Hiccup giving this girl all the attention? He doesn’t want to be ignored, he doesn’t want all these whiny, immature thoughts, but he can’t help it when he looks up to Ginger and Freckles wrapped up in their own world, while he’s here, waiting for Hiccup to introduce him. He’d at least like to be acknowledged even if the girl’s apparition ultimately ended up with him being the third wheel.

Seriously? She didn’t need to look at him with puppy-love eyes like that.
But Hiccup was looking at her with the same expression. So then, this Hiccup is his girlfriend? Not that Hiccup had ever said anything about having a girlfriend. But then again, he never said that he hadn’t got himself a girlfriend. That subject was somehow avoided. Then again, Jack usually chose to avoid the “I think guys are hotter than girls and you fit my preferences” conversation.

The reminder that Hiccup was straight was slammed right in Jack’s face like a badly made snowball. His day dreams seemed like torture to him now. As if they would ever happen.

“Jack?”
The idiot was caught off guard.
He had been wrapped in his own head as much as the other two with each other that he hadn’t realised they had stopped their rabbiting and were looking at him, catching him who had been stabbing Merida with his ice glare, half hidden under his arm. He had been using it as a pillow. Now it propped his head up so he could look the girl over again. She wore cowboy style boots, splattered with mud up one side. They seemed to be her favourites, well worn and well past their sell-by date. Duct tape, painted brown to match the faded leather, kept the front of one shoe waterproof, whilst the other’s thread detail was starting to fray. She had nicely shaved legs – bare, because screw the weather, right? – that curved up, dusted with more freckles and dirt, as if she had been rolling round on the floor.
The crimson/blue tartan shirt stopped halfway down her thighs, equally dirty. Jack was starting to suspect she had been rolling around in the dirt. Her ginger hair, wild and frizzy was roughly pulled back away from her face in an attempted ponytail, yet it exploded into some sort of tangled mess behind her, similar to a lion’s mane
Her backpack, dropped at her feet had opened to reveal an array of drawing pads and a thousand different pens, as well as anyone’s fair share of energy drinks and sweets. No wonder she and Hiccup got on like a house on fire.

“Jack?”
Jack was still staring. He was trying to figure out in which context Hiccup had mentioned her name, ever so stubbornly searching for anything other than that of “girlfriend.” His mind just twisting the same words over and over: Lover, crush, love-interest, partner, sweetheart, date, significant other, darling, beloved, valentine. Girlfriend. That word left a bitter taste in Jack’s mouth.
Both he and Hiccup had been hanging out enough that Hiccup has had to have mentioned “Merida” at some point. The name was familiar enough. And it wasn’t a common name, so only Hiccup could’ve told him. So it must be—

“Earth to Jack.”
“You’ve reached customer service, how may I help you,” Jack grinned back, because he knew the retort annoyed the other a little. First came the sigh, then the eye roll, but it was all orderly filed away in favour of a touch of concern. “Frosty were you even listening to anything I said?” Hiccup isn’t teasing him like their usual pacing would intend. He is genuinely concerned.

“You okay?”
“Yeah, peachy,” Jack says, raising his head.
Hiccup was leaning against the desk, no longer in his seat. Toothless was leaning against him, but he wasn’t distressed, so Hiccup wasn’t. Something cold struck Jack’s heart, reprimanding him for his negligence. Well, Toothless was the one meant to be keeping his eye out for Hiccup, not him, but it wasn’t like he should just be ignoring his best friend like that, in case—

Merida sat next to them. Or, perched herself on the desk next to Jack while Hiccup busied himself rubbing Toothless’ mane. She used the extra height to glare at Jack from where her boyfriend couldn’t see, her arms crossed defensively in front of her chest, her head tilted forward as she narrowed her eyes. Merida must’ve seen Jack glaring. She fixed him with her own filthy look.
Jack matched it, but the second Hiccup pulled away from Toothless, the two of them turned face, pretending nothing was amiss.
Jack’s pretending wasn’t good enough.

“Dude, you’re all talk, but today you’re not yourself. And yeah, I know you were up early with driving lessons, but you and I both know you’ve pulled all-nighters with Cloud and Aster playing on Xbox. So? What was it this time?”
Jack decides to take the escape route laid out for him, feigning guilt as he rubs the back of his head. “Minecraft.”
Hiccup grins like he’s won first prize in a fair. “Knew it.” His grin makes Jack do that weird fluttery thing.
Before, it was a perfectly acceptable feeling, one that Jack didn’t fight. But with Hiccup’s girlfriend right there and Jack slowly coming to the reasoning he’s not allowed to feel that, lest he destroy his friendship with Hiccup, he swallows deeply.
The unease must’ve shown on his face.

“Or was I wrong?”

Jack just shrugged, figuring Hiccup wouldn’t bother too much, now that they’ve got an audience and he’s going to want to spend the time catching up. “Does it matter,” he says, voice too taught for his liking, but it won’t change anything now. It wasn’t like he made the conscious effort to take his irritation out on Hiccup, but he wasn’t completely focused right now, what with the spiteful little voice in the back of his head telling him he’s missed his chance. What chance, Hiccup isn’t even gay—

“Hey, what is it? Hiccup leans closer in his chair, one arm resting on jack’s desk to bridge the distance. Before, Jack’s stomach would flip and he’d relish the feelings of butterflies. Now he’s sure he’s about to be sick. “Nothing,” Jack says again, brushing away the outstretched hand. Problem is, Hiccup can see it’s not nothing, and leans in, even closer, oblivious to Merida’s glare, once again fixed upon Jack.
If he was cold and closed towards her, then Ginger was nothing but fire; blazoned with a challenge, daring him to hurt her boyfriend with careless remarks. Quite frankly, Jack wanted to pretend she didn’t exist, even if ordinarily he would never back down from a fight, even if it was a wordless staring contest.

Hiccup pokes him on his brow to get his attention.
“Hic, I’m fine. It’s just the start of a headache. Blame lack of sleep or overthinking, but it doesn’t matter, it’ll pass.”

Jack turns back to his own desk, pulling out his own untouched project booklet. Now he was really wishing that he had accepted one of the girls advances and had joined their group instead. “Bet it was too many sweets.”
“Was not.” Jack didn’t have the energy anymore to banter back and forth, but this time Hiccup didn’t pry to hard. Instead he dove into his bag, pulled out a water bottle and his wallet before slipping out two painkillers, cut away from their plastic carry-card. “Here. Because I know you don’t have any and you’ll refuse to buy some before you head home.” Jack accepts them with a smile, the little voice in the back of his head thinking how lucky Ginger was, that her boyfriend was kind and caring and attentive—oh shit, that’s just made him feel worse.
He’s not allowed to think about the fact he’s drinking from Hiccup’s water bottle, nor that if he was thinking about it his heart might start doing some weird thumpity thump that would follow the thought process of ‘indirect kiss.’ Jack handed the bottle back after a good few chugs. It was then that Hiccup took a swig and Jack’s heart did another thumpity thump. Actually, no it didn’t, because Jack isn’t thinking anything like that. At. All.

Still, the headache excuse gets Jack off scot-free for the remainder of the lesson, even if it was quarter of an hour: Hiccup spending that time explaining to Merida about their project using Jack’s unmarked booklet while Frosty lounged against his desk while Toothless rested his head on the boy’s lap, enjoying it when Jack fondled his ears and made them flap up and down. He was trying to ignore the pair beside him, but without completely turning his back on them. He wasn’t that rude.
Merida had pulled up a spare chair to sat beside Hiccup, too close for Jack’s liking, but then maybe this hemisphere was too close for Jack’s liking. He ignored himself and went back to flopping at Toothless’ ears, watching his jowls lift in contentment, then drop when Jack stopped. Weird dog.
Yeah and you’re weird for pining after my master, he imagined Toothless saying when his face dropped and it looked like he was scowling. Which would be impressive, but also worrying, because that means Jack’s losing his mind—

“Yeah, so I think that just about covers it. Any questions?”
“Aye. When’s lunch?”
“Dick,” Hiccup hissed, before laughing. He nudged Jack who hadn’t been looking. “Jack, did I forget any— Hey, seriously, is it just a headache or is it something else?”

Hiccup didn’t seem to want to drop whatever he had noticed on Jack’s face. Or maybe it was the fact that he was uncharacteristically quiet; his body language betraying him where he didn’t have the energy to play ‘normal.’ “Nothing. Like I said, just a headache or something.” Jack rubbed his face again, not bothering to attempt another weak and feeble smile.
But this time he turned himself on his chair so he was facing the too-close-to-one-another pair. If Merida was Hiccup’s girlfriend, the best thing a best friend like him could do was be friends with her too. Or at least pretend to be.

The couple began talking, with Hiccup continuing his attempts in catching Merida up on their already completed work, although the eventual diversion of conversation took effect and they were back talking about “Merida this,” “Merida that.”
They talked about Merida moving. They talked about her new roommates, her College subjects and her future plans. By the time Jack found himself trying to decipher what she was saying about her flight back down here, the universe had decided to grace Jack with an actual headache, like earlier was just him wishing for one, and ta dah, the universe isn’t one to disappoint.
He tunes out of the conversation, drawing his pad near him, deciding to doodle, and maybe at least try out some different ideas to the “Double-Entendre” concept that’s listed in the booklet. Then he tries some for “Deception” and “Opposite.”

When the bell finally rang, Jack didn’t feel like sticking around. He could head to the Gym, maybe text Cloud and Aster if he got bored of hanging with his friends from his sports class. It was better than spending lunch by himself. Kicking a ball and talking with the football duds was more inviting.

“Hey, wait up,” Freckles calls, slower in leaving the classroom, what with the Ginger and his pupper to contend with.
“What are you doing?” Jack asks, genuinely confused when Hic caught up. He would’ve thought Hiccup would head off with the two so they could spend lunch catching up on whatever gossip hadn’t been crammed in the last twenty minutes.
But Hiccup is oblivious apparently, already yammering on. “Well, you did say that you wanted to go to Gobber’s for food,” he says, checking to see if Jack remembered, jerking a hand back over his shoulder. “Although, it’s in the other direction.”

Jack looks at him blankly, not quite sure what to say. He doesn’t really fancy being a third wheel. With art turning out to be two-plus-Jack-and-dog, he wasn’t all too keen on Lunch being the same.
There’s a moment, in which Hiccup’s smile slips slightly, but before Jack can say anything, it’s back and Hiccup his already talking. “But it looks like you’ve changed your mind. Me, Mer and Tooth are heading over anyway, so if you’re meeting up with Cloud and Aster, we’ll be on the second floor, where we ate last time.”
And then he’s gone, Merida’s hand in one and Toothless’ lead in the other, disappearing among the throng of students that come piling out their classes, hoping to hit the canteen before the queues get too long. Jack didn’t bother watching the other three leave. He just pulled his satchel higher onto his shoulder and marched to the gym. Maybe kicking a ball about would help him work off his irritation.

Notes:

I think closet disaster gays are my aesthetic.

Chapter 9: I Think I Pissed Off The Universe In My Past Life

Summary:

Everything has been hunky-dory for Hiccup. Merida is back with him in College, he’s hanging out with the guys too and there’s Jack every day for that much needed eye-candy. You can’t have too much of a good thing, until the Universe decides to shake it up a bit. But this time, Hiccup’s found his footing and for the first time, he’s fighting his corner….

TUESDAY 11th October

Hiccup stared at his phone, the thing in danger of being crushed and simultaneously becoming an extension of himself considering just how much it has been in his hand these last few days. It’s not just the fact that he’s in a group chat with the old gang, but also there’s the one between him, Cloud, Aster and Jack. Although, Jack’s been strangely quiet.
He was ill last week, enough that he wasn’t in for two days. Hiccup didn’t want to push him on Thursday so spent the day catching up on homework and the like, then Friday he hit the town with Aster and Cloud, back to “But First, Coffee.” They spent most of their time in the attic-library, studying and gorging on too-cheap-to-be-legal brownies. They’d invited Jack but the message on all three of their phones remained unread.
The weekend held a similar pattern.

Hiccup ignored the wish that he’d traded numbers with Punzie last time he went around their house, knowing hindsight was a bitch and dwelling would do nothing. So, he punched in his four-digit passcode, ignoring the steady flow of notifications from the ‘Merida Is A Cereal-Killer’ group chat. None of them were from Jack so he needn’t bother checking on today’s running gag until at least lunch.

“Forgot something?”
Hiccup turns, already pocketing his phone, hiding it out of habit, as Cassie grins up at him from where she’s got her arms wrapped around Toothless’ neck. He’s sniffing her hair, loving the new coconut and mango scent.
“You know, you look like Mr Jorgenson when you frown like that.” Hiccup rubs at his forehead. “Oh please no. That’s not a thought I need in my head right now.” His disgust is fake of course, Cassie knows it, but she also knows Hiccup’s mood isn’t quite right, especially considering that he’s missing his shadow. She stands, petting Toothless as she slides onto Hic’s desk. “So, where’s Jack? If he doesn’t get here before the bell, Tatiana will write him up about being late.”
“I doubt it. I think he’s been consecutively late to almost every morning lesson and all he gets is a raised eyebrow and a smile.”
“Imagine if he’s early. She might just award him a Nobel Peace Prize.” The pair giggle to themselves, Toothless between them, snuffling their hands in hopes for food. He’s already had a snack, but he’s pretty sure that right about now someone will slip him something meaty. Maybe Hiccup has something for him.

But thoughts for quelling Toothless’ never-ending hunger is abandoned when Hiccup’s phone buzzes loudly telling him he has a text, not just a group notification. Hiccup scrambled for it like it was on fire or something, nearly dropping it in the process. Cassie caught it, handing it back without looking at the screen, because she’s nice like that and won’t pry if Hiccup doesn’t want to let on. Her curiosity is definitely heightened when Hiccup’s eyes sweep the screen, a smile upon his lips… and then it’s gone, a sigh and a slump of the shoulders before he slots his phone into his back pocket without even replying.
“Not who you were hoping?” Cassie grins, because it’s kind of obvious considering how dejected Hiccup is. His shoulders drop further – if that was even possible – when the bell rings. “It’s Mer. She’s at reception. She’s lost apparently, but I think that’s just her just trying to avoid getting caught by her tutor and getting an earful for not coming in this morning.”
“Skipping in her second week? Gutsy. Who’s her tutor?”
“Gothel.”
“Ooh tough one.”

“Well,” Cassie grinned, jumping up off Hiccup’s desk. “You better go save her. She’s going to need all the help she can get, what with the witch on her tail, and Mister-Primp-And-Proper breathing down his nose at her every five minutes.”
“That was Merida’s fault for setting off the fire alarm, and she knows it. There’s no sympathy from me.”
Cassie rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Go be her knight in shining armour. I’ll let Tatiana know where you’ve gone, she won’t be mad. You never know, she just might award you with a Nobel Peace Prize. God knows I would if you can calm the Principle’s temper.”
“If only he was a dog-lover,” Hiccup agreed, a low whistle calling Toothless to him, as he had gone to the door to greet the girls who appeared ready for their third lesson of the day.
Of course, Tatiana isn’t there yet, so Hiccup can’t give her his excuse, despite knowing Merida wasn’t lost, she’d already been at college for a week and most of her classes were blocks A and D, practically next to one another. Still, Hiccup was a good friend (read: idiot) and would go and fetch the Ginger Menace before she could land herself another detention and pull the fire alarms again, just to get out of it.

Hiccup’s fingers fumbled with his mobile as he walked, Toothless unleashed but still at his hip even as the crowds continued to disperse, all of them giving way to the pair that took the long way to the reception desk, deciding to avoid outside and its gale force winds of incoming winter weather. Not even half way through October and this morning they’d woken up to heavy-set frost and the cold enough that Hiccup had verbally told Toothless he was jealous of his winter coat and wanted one for himself. Selfish pup for not sharing.

Hiccup isn’t really paying attention to much around him, pulling out his phone where it had been automatically returned to his pocket, and now he’s reading through the group chat where Jack’s absence has been duly noted. Several times. He’s sent his own texts, two just this morning, asking if Jack was going to be in class or if the fever has come back with a vengeance.
He’s considering sending another, to check if Jack has made it to college, but then again, they’re just about to have an Art lesson. His question would be answered when he headed back to the classroom.

It didn't make a difference if Hiccup text Jack or he didn't. Either way, he would've still walked right into the only other person in the corridor.

“Ah sorry in my own… world…”

“Morning Toothpick.”

Hiccup looked up at the grin of his former tormentor, wishing the world would implode to save himself having to communicate with Dagur for even a second. But that’s selfish and the world doesn’t implode.
Instead it seems to stop, the sun growing cold hiding behind clouds as if it too, was frightened of the boy that blocked Hiccup’s way. He’s not that much taller than the boy, but to Hiccup he towers far above him.

At first, it’s fear that joins him, clinging to his chest, constricting his lungs like iron bars around them, not letting him catch his breathe he didn’t realise he’s lost. Toothless beside him whimpers low in his throat, stepping behind the boy’s legs, reliving every moment Dagur raised his hand, his hide met with ruler and shoe and belt.
He whines again, hiding his face in the crook of Hiccup’s knee, the boy’s hands finding his fur, curling his fingers in to ground himself, and to ground Toothless beside him. He’s not leashed, but it’s not fear that Toothless will run that Hiccup pins him to his side, but the fear that Dagur will finally make his best bud snap, and he’ll be the first victim to fall to his teeth.
That satisfaction would be nothing next to the pain of Toothless being taken away from him, put down like a mutt from the streets—

“What you up to?” Dagur asks, pulling Hiccup from his thought spiral, moving in, his hand on the boy’s shoulder before he could dodge it. There’s noise behind, Hiccup casting an eye to the far end of the corridor where Dagur’s friends gather, effectively cornering him off if he decided to run. They were guards and lookouts all wrapped up in one ugly package.
Hiccup noticed a familiar red-haired girl leaning on the windowsill.
He glared at her. She just smiled back.

“Oi, Toothpick. I asked you a question,” Dagur growled, stepping in so he didn’t have to raise his voice. The hold on his shoulder tightened, enough for the boy to whimper at the bruising fingers pressing into his bone. Toothless growled low in his throat, but with Hiccup’s hand on his scruff he couldn’t move. He didn’t want his bud to pay for his weakness, his inability to escape…

Fear melted away into anger.
There was no conscious switch, no one identifiable thought that Hiccup could pull from the tangle in his mind that screamed “why?” Why should he have to be afraid of Dagur for another two years? Why did he have to put up with all that shit back in school? Why the hell did Dagur have to come back, to single Hiccup out and try all his shit again? Why, why, why, why why—
Anger surged within him, irritation prickling under his skin with a strength he didn’t understand, nor recognise. Toothless moved against hi, but Hiccup wasn’t aware, listening to the thrum in his head, his own voice, steady and calm telling him that he had had enough. There was no more bullying to play, no give-and-take relationship that Hiccup wanted to be part of.
Sure, he’s not got anyone to screw him, but being abstinent for the rest of his life beats one more round in Dagur’s bedroom.
This was College for fucks sake. He had already endured three years of shit from this git. Hiccup has already had enough. He’s not going to do this anymore.

“I said, what are you doing here?” Dagur growled, hand tightening again.
Hiccup let the anger fuel his movements, pulling himself out of the older’s grasp as easy as he was shrugging him off. “Walking.”
But things aren’t easy as “fuck off and have a nice day.”

Maybe Dagur was extra angry that morning. Maybe this sudden change in Hiccup riled him up, or pushed him over the edge. Whatever it was, caused Dagur to latch onto the hood of the boy’s jacket and yank on it. Hard.
Hiccup tumbled sideways, the brace on his prosthetic jarring, Toothless darting out the way as he slammed into the line of lockers beside him. Dagur moved closer, kicking Toothless away, his grip still tight on the shorter’s hood. He had him trapped.

“Oi. I'm talking to you,” Dagur hissed, pushing the smaller youth into the lockers again, enough the back of his head took some of the impact. wall again.
“And?” Hiccup glared, feeling his anger build yet again. Using me as a goddamn punch bag just because I didn’t say no back in secondary school. Bastard, jerk, git, jumped-up little—

“Leave me alone,” Hiccup snapped, looking for an exit. He saw one, under Dagur’s arm, tried to take it, but with Dagur's hand firmly gripping his hood… well, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Toothless barked in anger, but Dagur ignored him. Hiccup raised a hand to quieten his bud, but that was knocked aside, Dagur pressing himself close up that his rancid, smoker’s breath was right in his face. “Excuse me? When the hell do you talk to me like this?”
“I’d rather not talk to you at all,” Hiccup shot back.
He really needed to hold his tongue before Dagur ripped it out his mouth, but the boiling anger towards said-asshole, irritation at himself for putting up with it for so long, worry for Jack, impatience with Mer and Jack and this whole damn situation—
Saying things he would later regret was one of the boy’s flaws he never knew he had, never having the time to test the limits of his social capabilities, but now Dagur was testing him, he was going to get a five-course serving of piping hot anger, whether he wanted it or not.

“You know what, I’d rather nor hear from you, see you, fucking hear your name for the rest of my life, and even then, it’d be too soon. I’ve had it Dagur,” the boy spat, Toothless growing alongside him in agreeance, “and I’m not about to let you walk all over me again.”
He jerked backwards, out of the boy’s grasp for the second time, but that wasn’t down to his strength, but ide to Dagur’s shock at Hiccup’s defiance. “I’m not going to be your boy toy or whatever. If you want something to screw, try Pitch, try a prostitute or whatever, but fucking leave me alone.”

The dark-haired boy scowled, rage like purple fire in his eyes, leaning close. “You were never a “boy-toy” Hiccup. I thought you knew how much I cared for you.” There’s no compassion, no contentment, nothing that suggests there was anything but skinship between them, and even then, it was greatly one-sided.
“Cared for your own perverted desires more like,” Hiccup spat, anger stuttering him as it wrestled for control against fear. No, no he didn’t want to be afraid anymore. He didn’t want to be trapped!

“True. True,” Dagur is saying, his tone falsely thoughtful but there’s anger and rage and all things dark curling on his tongue as he presses lips to the boy’s cheek, dragging them so he doesn’t have to raise his voice. The threats and insults are all whispered, Dagur’s tongue tasting the boy’s ear, reminiscent of times before he forced himself on Hiccup until the boy all but fell apart.

Dagur’s hand, snake-like and strong, slithered from Hiccup’s hood down to his wrist before he could pull away. “But I didn’t ignore you, did I?” he asks, his tone still soft, but dangerously so; like snowfall, hiding the biting chill with the feather-like touch as it falls light on the skin, a thousand words whispered over and over, numbing the body, numbing the mind until it’s too late. Dagur is snow and ice and the chilling cold that steals life from those that get lost in the snowstorm. And Hiccup is his next prey.

“I never ignored you. When you came to me, I laid with you, slept with you, fucked you over and over, just like you asked me to. When you begged for more, who was the one that granted it? Who knows your body better than anyone else, even yourself?”
Hiccup glared at the floor, feeling goose bumps ripple across his skin as Dagur’s words ghosted over him, pulling him back to countless times spent underneath the boy, pinned by his weight and his own lustful desired, the way he couldn’t stop moaning, screaming, begging for pleasure Dagur could give him.

Repulsive.

“Who was it that turned your body into something wonderful—?”

Hideous.

“Something so alluring,” he snarls, lips twisted into a savage grin as his hand travels to the boy’s waste, a slight squeeze to his hip and Hiccup can’t help the way his body moves into Dagur, memory of the pleasure all the invitation he gives, even as his mind screams no.
No, no he didn’t want to be trapped by him, by his own body—

“Let… me… go,” Hiccup hisses, pulling, tugging, fighting against the hold Dagur has over him that makes him move even closer, a leg brushing between Dagur’s as he searches for that touch that will bring him to the edge and push him over again and again and again and again.
“Don’t fight it Hiccup. I know you want this, you know you want this,” he says, a hand brushing against the front of Hiccup’s pants, the betraying pressure there just as painful as the boy’s twisted words that continue to swirl around him.
No, he doesn’t want to go back, he doesn’t want to go back!

“Come on Hiccup, you know you can’t escape me—”

But whatever else Dagur wants to say is interrupted by Toothless. He can’t defend Hiccup with claws and teeth, he knows that, but he can draw attention to himself, and attention to the boys pressed against the lockers in the corridor. He barks. And again. And again, until it’s a continuous volley echoing in the quiet, his distress clear in his cries for helps.
Someone, anyone!

Hiccup choked, whatever curse cast over him broken. He shoved, and shoved hard, an order to Toothless and they ran down the corridor, away from the group that closed in, away from the teacher that poked their head out the corridor and threatened to write them up with a detention if they didn’t stop with all their racket.

“What was that about?” Pitch asked as they resigned to spending their free period on the back field, his lips pulled up into a smile, curiosity flashing in his eyes before dissipating once more into malice. His humour hid the disappointment and anger about the lack of violence towards their prey, but he was more thought that fist when it came to needlessly destroying the weak for the sake of entertainment. He knew that maybe Dagur would strike at him if he questioned his lack of action, outright ignoring the fact the boy failed to twist Hiccup to his will. So, he let it slide.
Which was a shame for Dagur. He was so hoping to hit something. But Pitch’s forewarning to the others kept their mouths closed and their eyes averted. All except one particular who knew that Dagur wouldn’t raise a fist to her, for the sake of his prize.
“You didn't hit him Babe,” Red swooned, pouring herself all over him like honey, kisses on his lips, his cheeks, his neck. He let her do as she wished, the tension still yet to be released from his growing desire at seeing the freckled wimp trembling, growing hard from the mere mention of the pair of them screwing.

“C’mon, talk to me,” she preened, pushing into his space, trying to pull his mind onto her so they could get down to more than one-sided making out. “Is there something wrong?”
“Not sure,” Dagur growled, letting his girl loop her arms around his neck, straddling one leg to rub up and down against it. “Tell me,” she crooned, “let me make it all better,” but despite her efforts, Dagur wasn’t in the mood to fuck away his problems. Instead he just latched his arm around her, a quick wet kiss to sate her before announcing they were skipping, leading the way to his place so they could smoke up.

Chapter 10: My Knightess In Shining Armour

Summary:

Merida didn’t so much like moving with her family, but she’s glad she came home, not just for the sake of herself, but the sake of Hiccup, who has more than one secret hanging over his head. What kind of friend would Merida be if she didn’t meddle—err, I mean, help.

TUESDAY 11th October

“An’ what time dae ye call this’?” Merida snapped jokingly when she saw Hiccup and Toothless running towards her. Or, well, Hiccup was doing that funny, hobbling run that says his legs is giving him grief and Toothless is full on charging her with plans to knock her into next week. She only just manages to dodge the over grown pup, half her cupcake ready as an offering as long as he sits, stays and doesn’t slobber all over her shoes. The duct tape just about saves her toes from rain, but it there is no defence that can save her from his drool.

They’re being eyed by Principle Clean-Cut, but before he can fake-cough, grab their attention, claiming Merida is only here to skip lessons. If he planned to issue two-and-a-half detentions, Merida doesn’t give him the chance, hooking her arm through Hiccup’s and their heading back the way he came, with Merida loudly thanking her friend for coming to get her “because I was lost an’ I did-nae want tae be too late tae class.” Her shitty ploy must’ve done something, because although the Principle is glaring at them from where he’s been left by reception, he doesn’t call them back. Not that Merida would acknowledge him if he did call out to her, but its easier to run away if there’s no one chasing.

“Okay, sae I wasnae tint, I was avoidin’ mah tutor,” Merida says when they’re out of earshot. Because luck of the draw she’s got the college’s only witch to monitor her tutor group. And worse luck of the draw, Gothel’s class is right next door to Tatiana’s, so any chance of ambushing is instantly doubled.
Roll for luck. Score: one.

Hiccup bears a smile like he guessed as much, but there’s no quick snide remark that will have the two of them gaggling all the way to class.
Merida releases his arm, in case he’s annoyed at her, but then, no Hiccup would rant and rave anyway. Even though he’s seen as shy and meek, when he’s comfortable with his friends he can be right the little shit. More so than Merida sometimes.

“Are we playin’ twintie questions here, or are ye gonnae tell me what’s buggin’ ye?”
Hiccup mumbled something under his breath. He didn't seem up to an argument, rubbing his wrist in that way he does when he’s anxious or he really needs to pee.
But that tight-lipped expression tells Merida her best friend isn’t just agitated. It’s a look she hasn’t see him wear for a long time, the last time when he admitted that he was gay, the time before that when he openly cast aside his family ties with his father.

“Hiccup?” her voice is soft now, it needs to be, but not her hand, that falls into his, holds tight and pulls him to a standstill in the middle of the deserted corridor. Toothless sees them stop, and copies.

“Hey, ye can tell me. What’s wrong?” she asks again. He meets her eyes, a moment, then drops the gaze knowing the stubbornness is only stored away for the sake of getting Hiccup to spill the beans on why he’s acting the way he his. If it did any good, she’d be her usual playful self, probably swing her hip into his and almost knock him flying. But with his leg giving him grief and that look on his face, Merida has enough sense to know that right now she needs to be serious, and stubborn enough she’s not letting Hiccup move until he gives her an answer.
“It’s nothing Mer—”
“Naething mah crease. Now spill,” she orders, stepping in front of him when he makes to pull away. “Not now,” he tried, but it’s weak and he doesn’t really mean it, if not he would’ve cast her grip aside and shoved his hands in his pockets so she can’t grab them again. They’ve played this game plenty of times so she knows what to look for when she sees Hiccup’s will breaking.
It’s barely there, and something tells her that she’s not the first to try kicking his walls down.

“Was it Jack? Has he said somethin’—”
“No, it’s not Jack. Well, not entirely, ” he mutters as an afterthought. “Okay, nae ‘Mr Kiss Me I’m God’s Gift Tae Men,” she says, catching a quirk of his lips. “Then ‘who? Yer Da? Sammy? Or is it ‘cus Astrid couldnae come down this’ weekend—”
“No, nothing like that,” Hiccup sighs, and Merida knows she’s won. He slots his hand in hers and they set off to Art, walking slower this time, Toothless keeping step. He’s not talking yet, but that doesn’t mean he won’t.

Whether Mer learns who, or what, is bugging Hiccup before they reach class is yet to be determined, but she knows he knows he’s going to have to tell her. If not, tonight he’ll be dragged to Gobber’s and they’ll pig out on burgers and coke until he spills guts – literally or physically. He knows, because they’ve done it before.

“It’s Dagur.”
Wait— what?

“Hauld the phone,” Merida says, reeling from the all-too familiar name of the dick that wouldn’t leave Hiccup alone back in school. “Dagur? What ‘as he said now?”
“It’s not that he’s said anything he hasn’t before,” Hiccup says, not looking her way. “I just wished that now we were all going to college he’d find someone else to torment. Not that I’d wish it on anyone else,” he stammers quickly, hands up like he’s batting the thought out the air. “But I had three years of hell in school and now he’s back—”
“Back? What dae ye mean, back?”

Merida couldn't keep the worry from her voice. She had dealt with Dagur on too many occasions in their last school, livid when she learnt the brute was bullying Hiccup just for the sake of letting off steam. There was no other reason – he didn’t know Hiccup was gay, nor the truth of his mother or leg or—whatever.

With Astrid's help, they had put an end to beatings and the public humiliation, and had both threatened that anyone else lay a hand on Hiccup they’d get free nose job, courtesy of the pair of them. Needless to say, no one trusted either with their noses and all torment stopped before it really had a chance to begin.

Maybe Dagur had learnt that Merida had planned to move away. Maybe he knew Astrid was over at Changewing’s Military Base and not on the mainland, at Hiccup’s beck and call should his living nightmare come and decide to bully him all over again.

“At least ye donnae have a chance tae run intae him. He’s gone tae work wit’ his Da, ain’t he?”
But Hiccup’s revelation seems to be over as Hiccup tugs on Mer’s hand, pulling her closer to Art and somewhere she knows she can’t bug the runt beside her for answers. “Hiccup—” she began, but he cut her off. “Dagur's in college.”
“College?”
“As in, Berk Academy College. Yes. College.”
“Here?” Merida's eyes shot wide open, letting Hiccup guide her as she looks back and forth, up and down the corridor as if doing so would show her where the damn snake is hiding, waiting for Merida to rearrange his face into something more fitting of his shitty personality. Maybe less teeth, broken nose, two black eyes and a broken jaw, so he can stop spreading his garbage around.

But they were alone, and the corridor remained empty.

“He spoke tae ye?”
“Briefly.”
Hiccup was rubbing his wrist again.
Merida was sure that it wasn’t just one of his nervous habits. It had to be something to do with his and the git’s encounter. “What did he want, what were ye talkin’ abit,” she rambled, questions tumbling out quick. “He was just reminiscing about the good old times.”

Merida glared again, her anger focused not to the boy before her, eyes skimming over the redness on his wrist, the red blossoming on his neck where it looks like Dagur’s tried to grab him by the throat. Why that little—
“I'm fine,” he argued, aware of Mer’s eyes, not wanting them on him before she found anything else. “Now you know why I’m upset. Now can we go to Art?” He’s storming off before she can give her answer, left no choice to follow.

“Hic. Hic wait!” But the boy wasn't having any of it. She’s not sure what she wants to say, but Hiccup has figured it out before her. “Look, I can't do anything about it other than keep a distance between us.
“Can’t ye just tell someone that—”
“That I'm what? Being bullied for being gay?” Hiccup scoffed to himself, glaring at his feet as he kept walking, Toothless by his side once more, a low whine in his throat, noting nothing but distress crowding around his boy.

Merida skips a step, feet stumbling slightly but she doesn’t fall. She didn’t think Dagur knew. She thought the git just wanted to lay his fists into someone, and the easiest and nearest was Hiccup.

Still, the boy continues. “Yeah, I didn't want to be friends with anyone anyway, so I'll just go tell them I'm a faggot and they can all ditch me. That'll make it all better.”
“I did nae mean—”
“The kids? Because they'll find out anyway,” Hiccup snarled. Merida stalled in her steps this time, but Hiccup continued. “If I tell anyone, anyone, be it teacher or… No,” he says, his mind already concrete in the thoughts that plague him. “If I say anything, it’ll be spread around college, between adults and kids alike.” He seemed to realise Merida wasn't following him anymore. He turned, seeing her, wide-eyed and wary of the fire he holds; one never before turned on his friends.

“Sorry,” he said, losing all ferocity from his voice. “I didn't mean… It's just…” He sighed, scratching the back of his head, petting Toothless who presses himself close to the boy’s leg. “I don’t want Dagur treating me like shit, like he did in school. But this time, I'm going to deal with it myself. It’s the only way he’ll leave me alone. Then I won't bother Jack or the others and neither will Dagur. You know what he'll do if I don't sort this out.”

Hiccup looked up, fixing Merida in the eye. They shared a dark look, remembering when Hiccup had told Mei-Lin where the bruises were really coming from, in a moment of desperation. And when Mei, angry for her friend and angry that the teachers had done jack-shit, took it upon herself to confront Dagur… well, he had attacked her too.

Hiccup shock his head, ridding his mind of the memory before it could become fuel to the fire. “Mer, trust me. This will be different from last time.”
Merida didn’t completely agree, wishing there was more than just a nod of the head and a promise Dagur wouldn’t get close. But something about Hiccup’s show of strength—No, it wasn’t a show, He was standing up for himself and she was going to stand beside him.

“Ah, I love ye, ye divit,” she smiled, pulling him into a hug before he could complain, squeezing him tight to show she was with him. “If anythin’ happens, ye know I'll beat ‘at bitch in tae the grin. I'll call Astrid an’ she'll come home tae teach ‘im a lesson he won’ forget.”
Hiccup nodded, returning the hug with just as much squeeze. “Just don't tell her yet. Neither Mei. Or Freddie.”

The boy sounded so deflated, that Merida had no choice but to agree. Then, her hand slipping into his once more, she let herself be led into Art. Without another word they entered the class, where the young teacher was talking, stood at the front demonstrating paintbrushes or something. “Ah,” she smiled. “I was wondering where you two were.”
“She got lost,” Hiccup grinned, stabbing his thumb over his shoulder, to Merida. “I was lookin’ fer the blue fairies,” she said nonchalantly, walking with Hiccup to the back of the class, shaking off the bad feeling that she had got from the earlier conversation. Oh well focus now, Art. You like art. Nothing wrong with Art, no reason to cause a fuss.

There was a space for her next to her best friend, slipping into her seat as she dragged her bag off her shoulder, giving Hiccup a moment of privacy as he greeted the only other boy in class. Merida had yet to properly speak to him considering her first lesson was drowned out by the hype at the realisation Hiccup was with her and the other fact was Frosty had been “sick.”
Merida wasn't sure about him. It wasn't like she didn't like him, it was just she didn't know anything about him. She and Astrid had always been very protective of Hiccup. They sort of took it upon themselves to watch out for him. It had eased later in secondary school, but this wasn't secondary school. This was College. With new faces and new bullies.
As well as old ones, she thought unhappily.

The mention of Dagur was probably why Merida was in defensive mode. She glowered at the boy that probably only talked to Hiccup because he was the only other guy in Art. And Hiccup, being the lovable, gullible dildo he was, wouldn't tell the jerk to leave him be.

“Books,” came a voice, breaking Merida's line of vision. She looked up, catching sight of her teacher who stands between her desk and Hiccup’s. She’s got a scarf in her hair today; purple, to match the highlights of the light brown and the tips of tattoo curling on her neck. “I didn't have a chance to give them to you last week because the delivery hadn’t been sorted, and the art supply cupboard was a mess, but here you go,” she says, stacking art folders, drawing pads, booklet files and a whole other bunch of stuff that would not fit into the girl's already crammed backpack.

“Cheers,” Merida says, waiting for Tatiana to turn her back before fixing Hiccup with a look. He barely has to stare at the pile before sighing, “yes, fine, you can put them in my bag.”
“Cheers,” Merida grinned again, already snagging his backpack to shove in the lighter books, before readjusting her own bag so that she doesn’t have to hold the texts between classes. Toothless noses at the crisps that crinkle when they’re put on the desk, Merida’s promise of “later” doing little to sate his never-ending stomach.
Hiccup wasn’t helping keep his bud in check. Instead, he was struggling to keep his eyes off the snow-haired teen who was doing his best impression of a brooding gargoyle.

Then Merida noticed the smile, adorning her best friends smile, the slight pinking of his cheeks beneath the dusting of freckles, becoming more prominent with every passing moment that his blush darkened.

Hic glanced back to Merida.
She raised her eyebrows.
Hiccup blushed even harder.

Och, that wee shit.
He was fucking smitten.

Chapter 11: I Don't Have To Be Content With Eye Candy

Summary:

Jack hoped College would be easy, and okay, it sort of is. The difficulty lies in his social interactions with a certain freckled beauty and his own emotions. It’s okay. Jack struggled through secondary school with his identity firmly locked in the closet and feelings for his friend under the rug. He can do it again. It’s only two, three more years...

THURSDAY 19th October

Jack caught himself thumbing at his temple for the third time in under a minute, his body unconsciously trying to dig away the remnants of his headache before it could take root again. They were something that Jack was prone too; a pleasant coupling with ADHD the doctor had diagnosed back when he was still an ankle biter.
Being a constant companion to some sort of imposing thought, Jack got on quite well with the pains in his head, but sometimes they, like he, were selfish with their want for the spotlight, and would inconvenience him by maturing into full-blown migraines.

Last week’s recital saw Jack forced to take time off college.

But Jack’s time off wasn’t entirely due to his headache’s fault. It was for an accumulation of reasons; there was the late-night packed with studying, caffeine and junk-food, as well as the fact that he’d then made the mistake of running to the shops late at night, in what could only be described as summer attire. All because Punzie forgot to pick up groceries on the way home and Dad was stuck in a meeting till late, and Jack was hungry. He ended up catching a chill, so his body gave him a fever to warm him up.
Yeah, because that makes sense.

Yet the main fault started, and ultimately ended, with the boy’s inability to keep his thoughts straight.

Literally.

Not that the blame lies with Hiccup. It’s not his fault and it never will be.
The headache came, regardless of blame, and it came because Jack couldn’t get Hiccup out of his head. Not in the normal, he’s cute, so fucking cute, I want to kiss him kind of thoughts, but the more, shit, get out of my head Ginger, stop kissing him, I don’t want to see you kissing him, I don’t want to see him kiss you back…

The constant back and forth that subbed him for Merida was enough that Jack considered he was going mad. He’s pretty sure he hates Merida now – due to no fault of her own other than existing – and that pretty much sucks because Jack can’t hate her or he can’t hang out with Hiccup.
Because there is nothing between them. And it has to stay that way if they want to be together—together as friends. Nothing more.

Nothing. More.

Jack palms at his head again, fingers catching in his fringe.
He gives it a yank for the sake of self-punishment. Because like an asshole, he can’t keep his thoughts straight for more than five minutes.
The constant of it was what earned him an extended weekend in bed and a text-lecture from Aster, despite Jack’s arguing that he didn’t sign up for the headache like it was extra-credit.
Still, the idiot had missed a genuinely amusing football practice on Saturday morning. Apparently, Harry – the older Vanguard twin – had earned himself a ten-lap punishment for nailing a penalty kick to the back of Coach’s head, all confirmed when Jack clicked on group chat.

But Jack was better now, and despite his still-sore throat and above average body temperature, he still attended afterschool practice last night, and afterwards impressed Coach with a sneaky curve ball that bested even Cloud’s skills at guarding the goal. At least it earned him a temporary position as center-forward for Sunday’s friendly home-game against Arendelle.
It was their first match against another team, and although it was only a friendly, no-stakes match, Jack was determined to play his best. It would be great fun, and it will give him a good chance to show off in front of Hiccup.
Those reasons alone are enough that Jack is grinning to himself, the familiar sense of excitement filling his bloodstream, the steamy, late night imaginings of Hiccup in a cheerleader’s outfit—quit it you horny-fuck.

Jack shakes his head to rid himself of the thought, regretting it ever so slightly when the parasite of head-pains ebb behind his eyes. Still, it’s enough that the pain is now his focus, and not his best friend who looks way too cute in a skirt—OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

The salt-haired neanderthal knocked on his skull – perhaps a little harder than he meant to – but he doesn’t regret it.

These kinds of thoughts needed to stop.

He had already come to that conclusion days ago, while feeling like a kicked-puppy, stuck in bed and rereading his and Hiccup’s texts like some love-sick over-dramatic teenager in a classic stereotypical story of heartbreak.

Hiccup is straight.

Hiccup has Ginger.

Hiccup is straight and has Ginger, and even if he accepts that Jack can swing both ways, as long as Hiccup isn’t in that equation then they can continue to be friends.
And Jack is going to be that good friend. He’ll keep his dick in his pants and his head on the rails. He’ll keep hanging out with Hiccup and with Merida and all the guys. They’ll still go to Jack’s every Thursday and watch Dead Walkers, and every Friday they’ll catch the bus together to meet April and Casey, and eat at Gobber’s and catch movies and hit the clubs when they can drink.
And in a few years, Jack will have his own partner, and maybe the four of them could double date…

Jack let out a low, drawn-out sigh, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose to stop the echoing of drums upon the inside of his skull.

It’s fucking torture.
Absolute torture.
Fucking, bloody tor—

“Jack look out!”

Jack barely has the time to swing his head to the left when a black mass of fur, drool and wagging tail slams into his midriff. Toothless doesn’t completely knock him sideways, but he definitely would’ve, if Jack hadn’t slammed into the wall instead.
“Shit, shit Jack, I’m sorry. Toothless stop, Toothless bad dog, bad dog, very bad dog.”

Hiccup continues to scold Toothless, who, despite his pressed ears and wide eyes, doesn’t look remotely sorry that he’s just tried to dislodge Jack’s spleen.

“Sorry Jack,” Hiccup says from where he’s got both his arms wrapped around Toothless’ neck, face turned so that the slobber only sticks to his cheek and not all over his face. “I think he’s just excited. We haven’t properly hung out for—god, I don’t know but it feels like ages.”
“Stop bein’ dramatic. S’ only been a week,” Merida huffs, flicking Hiccup center-forehead before offering a hand to help right Jack. He takes it, to be civil, and polite, but also because he’s already come to the conclusion:

Friends.

The white-head dusts himself off, thanks Merida and joins the boy and his dog on bended knee, offering the hyperactive doggo a proper greeting. “Don’t worry about it,” he tells Hiccup when the teen tries to apologise again. “I know how he gets. Besides, I think it’s more my fault because I’ve been gone for ages.” He puts emphasis on the last word jokingly. Toothless agrees, if licking the boy’s cheek is anything to go by.
“But honestly. I am grateful to you, for covering my back in the lessons we shared. Although, I have to say I was surprised when Aster was the one to hand over the music assignments rather than Cloud. His face was pure gold, I wish I’d taken a picture.”

Hiccup grins – much more genuine than Jack’s – much cuter when his familiar shyness bleeds hot pink on delicately freckled cheeks. “Ah. He may or may not have got a text reminding him you would need someone’s copy of notes.”
Jack laughed, having already guessed as such. He didn’t realise he was ruffling Hiccup’s hair until he was, suddenly snapping his hand back and shoving it in his pocket.

Hiccup continues talking, not having noticed Jack’s hand in his hair, his own buried in Toothless’ ruff. Either that, or he didn’t really care. “—and I did think about asking Cloud, but I didn’t have his number. Aster told me he’d give it to me, but I still haven’t—”
“We get it, we get it,” Merida huffed, digging her toe into the back of Hiccup’s knee, hands on his shoulders before he could buckle. “You’re ah saint, Jack be blessed, we’re all bludy blessed. Naw let’s hike it. Ah do-nae want tae freeze ma tits off.”
Hiccup shoots her a look. “That’s your fault for not bringing a coat.”
Merida responds by flipping him the bird.

“So, what’s in the plans today?” Jack asks before the two can continue, hauling Hiccup off the floor before shoving both hands in his pocket, deciding they would be suited somewhere out of the way. He can use being cold as an excuse.
The weather has certainly listened to the news this morning; Hiccup’s nose is bright red from the cold and they’re all a sneeze away from a chill. Not that Jack particularly wants another. Hence why his hands are in his pockets and not trying to grab Hiccup’s to keep him warm.

“Well, it is Thursday,” the freckled teen smiles, oblivious to Jack’s mental barrage. He shifts ever so slightly when he glances up the road that leads to Gobber’s. “And considering you owe me for missing out on a decent few hours of Dead Walkers, and I have acquired several box-sets last time I was in town…”
“I’m game,” Jack says, trying not to act weird at the thought that he’s going to Hic’s place for the first time. Sure, Ginger will be there too, and he hates the feeling like he’s interrupting their moments. Being the third wheel fucking sucks, but it’ll get better, he knows. Either he’ll get used to the pair’s relationship or his own feelings will fade. Whatever comes first.

“Wait. Dead Walkers?” Merida asks, her furrowed brow shot between both boys. “As in, guts-an’-gory-an’-all-things-icky. That Dead Walkers?”
“The very same,” Hiccup grins, lifting his chin, arms folded upon his chest, showing off for some reason or other. Merida doesn’t look convinced. “Nae way. Nae comin’ from ye. You’re absolute chicken-shit when it comes tae anythin’ zombie, especially after ye pissed yer skivvies at Halloween when—”
“No, nope, no! We are not going there,” Hiccup all but yelled, his voice three octaves higher, jumping like he’d been stuck with a cattle prod. But at the sight of the smile curling upon Jack’s lips, he realised his mistake all too late. “No, no Jack, we’re not—Merida, don’t you dare—”

But it is all for naught, as Merida divulges the story of how Hiccup got jump-scared by older kids when they were out trick-or-treating, enough that the poor kid couldn’t hold his bladder, practically scarring him for every future encounter with the undead. “I was eight,” Hiccup whined, all dignity lost. Jack sniggers into his hand.
“You should’ve seen him scream when the crawlers got hold of Sammy. He came round my place, what was it, the second week? We said we’d watch two or three episodes before you went home early. Then Dad rocks up close to midnight and Hic and I are still glued to the screen.”
Jack shoots Hiccup another million-dollar smile. “But I’m glad to know my good taste is rubbing off on you, knowing that you can sit through such a gory TV show.”

“Speakin’ of tastes,” Merida says, butting her head between the boys. “Am gettin’ hungry as well as bludy braw while standin’ here. Onie chance we can get our ass’s walking tae somewhere warmer?”
“Lassie’s right—” she waves a fist but is ignored “—Gobber’s is up the road. We can take a pit stop first.”
“Ah want me a burger!”

And just like that, it is decided that they’ll get take away from the Viking Diner before wasting the rest of the day lounging in Hiccup’s room with as many episodes of Dead Walkers as they can.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there is one thing Merida and Jack can agree on, it’s the fact that Gobber’s food is hands down the best from here to anywhere. Hiccup was amused to note they ordered the same thing, with an extra drink too boot while most of their chips would be used to sate Toothless’ hunger as they turned into the final stretch of the marathon; Hiccup’s home was just through the shortcut through the woods.

Even though she’s been down South for the best part of two weeks, Merida hasn’t been Hiccup’s way since before summer holidays – an odd prospect for boyfriend and girlfriend (and that alone irks Jack to no end, but somehow he feels superior, despite this being the first time he is visiting Hiccup’s) even if the two of them are anything but conventional – and now Ginger is loudly recalling every funny memory she can think of, (another think that irks Jack).

The shits are in their own little world, Jack occupied with Toothless and the endless pit of hunger, to which he willingly sacrifices his now-soggy chips, all whilst wishing he could also toss in his miserable thoughts that drag at him like rain-soaked jeans and puddle-wet socks.
Then Hiccup snort-giggles, and Merida does the same, half choking on the dry bun of the last mouthful of burger. And Jack, not really thinking, is suddenly speaking without conscious thought, so now his mouth runs rampant.

“So, like… how far back do you two go.”

Ah, fuck it. He doesn’t want to know. He really doesn’t, but shit he’s spoken and wouldn’t it be weirder if he suddenly starts acting weird just to get out of this shithole he’s digging for himself.
Ah fuck. Thinking hurts.

Neither Hiccup of Merida answer immediately. Jack raises his head. The pair of them look confused, both brows furrowed and button noses all scrunched up, mid-bite into their burgers. Jack decides Hiccup looks far cuter, but doesn’t offer up a vocal comment.
He’s not sure why they haven’t said anything. Maybe he’s already acting weird, or maybe it was a weird question to ask. But “Hiccup and Merida” are who have been floating around inside the boy’s head and he can’t seem to shake the thought loose: Hence, the un-thought-out question.

“I mean like, how long have you known one another.”
It’s not that Jack wants Hiccup to start gushing about his girlfriend, but thoughts are stuck, and he might as well rip the band-aid off in one go. Maybe then he can get it to stick in his head: Friends.

This time, Jack’s question has made more sense; the two of them turning to one another, speaking one after the other.
“Diapers?”
“Diapers.”

They turn back to Jack.

“Diapers.”

The boy attempts a smile, but it’s lost on him. “A long time then.”
“Considerin’ ah have-nae needed a diaper since ah was a babe, I’d bludy well hope so,” Merida spat, more bark than her bite. Hiccup can’t help but crack up, snort-giggling once again, doing a piss-poor job of hiding his grin behind the back of his hand. “Yeah, been a fair few years. And somehow we’re still friends.”
“We’re related ye divit. There’s nae a way our parents would have us as anythin’ but friends.”

Merida is scowling, Hiccup is giggling and Toothless is prancing about the pair of them like a game of ring-around-the roses. “Fuck off,” Merida bites, as spiky as cotton candy when she grabs an idle stick and launches it a far way down the path. She’s blushing, batting at Hiccup who keeps prodding her cheeks, teasing and laughing all the while.
Yet Jack’s mind can’t help but catch on a certain word. “Related?”
Now it’s Hiccup’s turn to stare, disbelieving. “Yes Jack, related. I wonder if you ever actually pay attention in class, or somehow your guesses are spot on. I told you this when Merida first barged her way into Art—”
“Hey!”
“Hush, not your turn to speak.” Her outburst earns her a flick on the forehead. Then he slips an arm around her waist – Jack’s heart involuntarily squeezes – a thumb jerking between the pair of them: “We’re cousins.”

Cousins?

“So… You’re not dating?”

Hiccup blinks.
Looks to Merida.
Looks to Jack—

"Eew! Oh my god, no way," he almost shouted. "She's like my sister. I mean she’s—and I’m—”
Hiccup can’t quite seem to get his words out, and ends up repeating himself when he manages to untangle his tongue.

Merida joins in the disgust, simultaneously angry and offended as she furiously shakes her head, vehement in her string of cusses that are shot out in a voice impossibly higher than Hiccup’s. Her blush is back in full force, now it has been given a chance to recharge. And Jack is the one responsible for throwing fuel onto the fire.

Toothless bounds up to the trio, stick in his maw, wondering what all the noise is about. He cocks his head, looking between the two who are now fake-gagging, and Jack, who isn’t any better, because he’s choking on full-on belly laughter that has his head thrown back, cobwebs creasing around his eyes as fat tears roll down cheeks as pink as his cold-kissed nose. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for assuming, but that’s…. I mean, oh god.” He can’t stop laughing, even when Hiccup aims his leg at the boy’s shin.
“That’s— ouch! —I’m sorry Hiccup I didn’t mean— But your faces! They were hilarious!”

Ginger fixes him with a death glare. “Keep laughing ye’ dick, an’ let’s see how bonnie yer smile is withit any bludy teeth.”
Her threat holds little weight, but it is enough for Jack to at least try to stifle his laughter. It’s his turn to snort-giggling; the smile that pulls at his lips comfortably warm upon his face, a bounce in his step as he smartly dodges away from another of Hiccup’s half-hearted kicks.

He’s grateful his mouth wandered off on its own, having learnt sooner rather than later that Hiccup and Ginger are not in fact dating, and he is most definitely not the third-wheel. It still sucks that he spent the weekend moping about it, but that will teach him for assuming and not listening to Hiccup when he speaks.

Hiccup’s kicks should remind him to watch his mouth too, because “bloody hell, that hurt Hiccup,” he half groans, half chuckles. Jack drops to rub at his shin, leaving himself open for a full body-assault from Toothless, who decides he wants to join the laughter and barrel rolls Jack into the dirt. He comes up coughing leaves and mud, much to the cousin’s delight.
And if that little thought is the real reason his smile is glowing, then that’s his secret to keep.

Chapter 12: This Crush Is Crushing Me

Summary:

Hiccup is crushing. Jack is crushing. Hiccup is gay. Jack is gay enough that he has been making eyes at Hic. They’re both disasters.

THURSDAY 19th October

“If you dare speak a word, you’re dead.”

A grin as devilish as the Cheshire Cat’s stretched wide across Merida’s lips. “Ah have nae idea what yer talkin’ abit,” she sings, and Hiccup swears blind devil horns are poking up through her unruly ringlets. His eyes narrow in thinly veiled warning. “Merida.”

The girl just smiles, trying to keep it slinking into devious territory, but failing spectacularly. Besides, Hiccup knows she finds his stern look hilarious, and it’s not long before she’s cracking up again, a stitch in her ribs as she rolls over, burying her face so that her laughing is muffled by the claimed bean bag.
But it’s not like she’s stopped.

“Mer, I’m being serious,” is all Hiccup gets out before the door swings open and Jack has returned, grinning, pinked-cheeks glowing as he wrestles his way into the room with Toothless jumping at his heel, salivating at the smell of the steaming pizza that Jack is juggling along with the bottles of fizz precariously balanced under one arm.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got it,” he says when Hic makes to stand. But a glance at his discarded prosthetic leaves that job to Merida, who pulls herself from where she’s been lounging to snatch the top box and the cola from under Jack’s arm before he can drop it and the thing ends up exploding all over the room without the aid of Mentos.

“Tooth, c’mon bud, down,” Hiccup says, but with pizza in his immediate vicinity, Toothless is deaf to all else. Now he’s on the bed where his nose is closer to the box, but that also means he’s closer to Hic who can throw an arm around his neck and hold him still while Jack unloads the last two boxes and extra bottles onto the desk underneath the TV.

Dead Walkers has been paused, comedically timed on a freeze-frame of Archie’s panicked face. He’s not in danger or anything.
In fact, the group are currently camping it out on the top of a fairly untouched worksite – which is probably the main reason it’s untouched considering there is little of value to survivors when it comes to heavy machinery and just the skeleton framework of a to-be-built office building.
So far, the episode has been pretty chill, centred around the focus of relationships and plan making, allowing for a comfortable pacing to take hold over the fast-packed action sequences.

Hiccup’s feeling it too.
He was relaxed enough with his two best friends that he didn’t think twice about slipping off his leg or the niggling ‘Jack is my room, Jack is in my room,’ thoughts that might have otherwise thrown him off balance.

Hic’s not the only one enjoying himself.
Jack’s been a lot more vocal since getting home. The slight uncertainty between him and Merida is no more, and it’s clear he’s better in the way he’s being himself, open and animated as he talked; the pair bonding over their favourite show whilst getting into moderately warm debates when it came to discussing the finesse of surviving an apocalypse and who would be the better off out of the two of them.

Of course, Merida is enjoying herself.
But that doesn’t mean she didn’t notice that, before the doorbell announced their food had arrived, Jack and Hiccup had been sat pretty close to one another on the bed.
Like, practically touching close.
Practically-close-enough-to-kiss close.

That’s what she had been teasing Hic about before Jack had come back, and can’t help but waggle her eyes while the boy’s back is turned once again; busy shooing Toothless back out the room until they’ve finished eating.

Hic’s death glare does little to scare her; his cheeks flushing suddenly from the way she cackles to herself, and then again when Jack scoots closer to him on the bed once again, hungry and excited to watch more tv.

Now that Merida has mentioned it, Hiccup can’t help but focus on the line of pressure he can feel, running from the stump of his left leg, all the way up to his shoulder where Jack is literally pressed into him, oblivious as he continues juggling his and Hic’s pizza and their bottle of fizz.
“Sorry, sorry, just gimme a sec,” he says trying to get comfy, averted eyes allowing Merida’s grin to slink back onto her face.
And Hiccup, bless him, really would tell her to fuck off, but he’s too worried about the way Jack’s shifting is making Hiccup’s face light up like a Christmas tree.

By the way Merida’s eyes glow, she knows it’s not the pizza box in his lap making him feel all hot and bothered.

---

They manage to get through two-and-a-half more episodes before Jack’s phone interrupts them with the way it’s hurling ‘Naruto’s Fighting Theme’ to mix with the sounds of zombies giving chase.
“Ah, Dad’s here,” he says when he grabs his mobile from where it’s fallen, after having to pluck himself from Hiccup’s side. The two of them were almost practically cuddling as they sprawled out on the bed, but it was more down to Toothless who had taken space besides Jack and had kicked him closer to Hic.
Not that he was complaining.

Instead, he’s trying hard not to think about the way he misses the warmth of Jack’s body next to his own the instant the other is up.
Hiccup is familiar with how tactile Jack really is, and although it’s only mildly awkward with Mer throwing a knowing eye when the situation suits her, Hic can’t hate himself for wanting the next time that he and Jack get as close as they do.

“Ah could’ve given ye a lift, if ye had ask’d,” Mer says, glancing at her own phone and the non-existent text that Freddie was finished work and on his way. But Jack just said it’s a through-trip for his dad, but maybe if he’s stuck sometime, then he’ll take Mer up on her offer.

And then Jack is gone, running down the drive to where his Dad’s parked up, and suddenly Hic is left at the mercy of a devilish Ginger who has no reason to pull her punches now that it’s just the two of them. Hic almost didn’t want to return to his room and her incessant teasing, but with little reason to kick her from the house, Hiccup hasn’t got any other escape routes.
He makes a point to take the stairs slow.

“So,” Merida sings, the second that Hiccup re-enters the bedroom. “Please don’t,” he begs, but they both know it’s pointless.
“Ye looked mighty comfy up there,” she grins, if only to watch Hiccup try and curl up on himself.

“All cuddly wit’ yer Jack—”
“Shut up—”
“— Makin’ eyes at him when he was-nae lookin’—”
“Shut. Up. Merida.”

Merida just laughed at him, and then again when Hiccup dramatically threw himself onto the bed, his head pushed his head into his pillow, the string of curses easily muffled. It’s not the first time he’s thought about suicide by pillow, but it’s the first time he’s considered taking someone down with him. And with Mer slumped into the beanbag, she’s at the ideal position for him to lean over her and smother her and all her secrets into oblivion.

“If ye flin’ that, aam throwin’ it right back at ye,” she said, her tone edged with a challenge that Hiccup really wanted to meet. But like Astrid is good at throwing punches, Merida is good at throwing pillows and nigh on impossible to deter once she gets going.

Wisely, Hiccup dropped his projectile.

But instead of slumping back down on the bed, he turned to face her, legs dangling idle over the side.

“Mer?”
And he really hates the way he feels so small, how his voice wavers like he’s about to start crying, how the way that everything seems to slam into him – the whole calm with the three of them, his feelings and the inner self-hate for said fucking feelings – all at once.
Goddammit. Now he really feels like he’s about to start crying.

“Mer, I really like him.”

He hugs the pillow instead of looking up. “And I get it, I know, that you’re only messing around when you tease me and all. But this isn’t like how it was with Eret or those other crushes, or anything like that.”

A deep breath in.

Mer hasn’t said anything, but he can feel her eyes on him, sharp and piercing. “He’s not just ‘some guy’ I like and ‘some guy’ I make eyes at, and spend all my spare time thinking about and… Jack’s my best friend. We’re… close. Not like you, me and Astrid were—are. But with Jack…”

Mer lays a hand on his shoulder, and Hiccup finally looks up, not having realised that she had come to sit beside him on the bed.
Her eyes are dark, the fires of her irises subdued but round in concern, aching for him. She’s startling beautiful in that moment – cheeks flushed from the evening’s laughter, her unruly ringlets their usual messy nest that frames her face and springs about like slinkies when she moves, pulling him closer as they lie side by side on the bed, legs tangled in that familiar way they used to do so often as kids.

There is warmth to her touch; strong and sure and grounding.
But there is also concern.

Hiccup sucks in a breath. “I don’t want to lose him. I don’t need the right to love him if I can at least keep him as a friend. But I can’t just shake the fear that I’m going to push the line and I’m going to lose him.”
He drops his eyes, feeling the usual build of frustration tightening his chest, ignoring how miserable his voice sounds, how the heat in his eyes is on his cheeks and the delicate finger’s wiping away the damp beneath his eyes are as soft as they have always been.

Hiccup feels pathetic, crying like this, even after the fun that they three of them have had. It feels like he’s ruining it, for her, for himself, because all he wanted to do was ask her to take this seriously, to not involve Jack in the teasing and now here he sits, blubbering like a baby because he can’t keep his emotions in check.

A whine breaks his thoughts. Hiccup raises his head to see Toothless at his feet, eyes glistening, ears flat. He whines again, before moving between boy and wall, finding space to lie down and bury his nose into the boy’s neck, letting Hic curl his arms around him, fingers threading into his fur.
In turn, Merida carded her own hands through Hiccup’s, brushing his fringe from his face. “Ye know I was only teasin’. I’d ne’er say anythin’ to hurt ye. Or him. Ah know he’s yer pal,” she says softly, rocking him gentle-like as the tears stem and his sniffs quieten down.

Despite Merida’s love for mischief and mayhem, she wasn’t inherently mean. She had known, just from the short time they had spent together just how important Hiccup and Jack’s friendship was to him and would never, never, do anything that could jeopardise that.
And sure, her first opinion of the boy hadn’t been great, but that was down more to the fact that she is strongly defensive to the kid who was practically her twin-brother. She’d been looking out for him since they were kids, so it wasn’t likely that that she’d stop anytime soon.

Hiccup had always been small, scrawny and quiet, making him the perfect target for bullies and bastards that thought a six-year-old kid was a perfect punching bag. And sure, she hadn’t thought Jack was beating on him, but there’s more than one way you can use someone.
Merida just didn’t want Hiccup to be used anymore.

But she didn’t want him hurting like this either.

“I can-nae do anythin’, can I?” she says, half to herself and half to no one at all. Hiccup replies anyway. “No. But I wouldn’t ask you to anyway. This thing with Jack… It’s my secret. Just… keep it?”
“Sure thin’. But ye promise me, if anythin’ happens an he finds out about…And... Well. Jus’ make sure tah drop him like a tonne of bricks.”
Hiccup laughs in agreement, but keeps his face hidden.

He knows that walking away from Jack would be a lot harder to do than just promising Merida he would.

---

SATURDAY 21st October

Winter was well and truly on its way.

Frost still clings to the shaded grass beneath the brown-leaved trees, and that which is caught by the sun is still damp and won’t have a chance to dry out until next year at least. The late-morning air is chilled by the constant brisk wind that doesn’t have anything better to do other than bite at their legs, no matter how much the teams tries to run, trying to keep themselves warm and somewhere in the vicinity of the ball as it is passed up and down the field.
Even Coach had disregarded his usual shorts-and-short-sleeve attire for something a little more weather-permitting, and was just as keen as the boys as to wrap up practice earlier than scheduled so they could get out of this damned cold.

The only one that wasn’t bothered, was Jack.

They’re in the last stretch of practice now, finally playing a quick friendly match between them before cool down. While everyone is mildly subdued by the sudden cold front, Jack is having the time of his life; running back and forth much more than usual, showing off his ball control with very fancy (and albeit largely unneeded) footwork, before launching it halfway back down the pitch towards Eret.
He’s the only one down his end of the field with only Cloud marking him. And although Cloud is an exceptional goalie and skilled enough to consider going pro, Eret’s got strength on his side and ploughs past his fingers, successfully scoring a goal.
His and Jack’s cheering infects their half of the team, but their smiles do little to combat the cold as a nasty wind blows right through them all.
It doesn’t take much for Coach to decide the match has entered its final stretch.

By the time Coach blows the whistle to call time, the score is two all and everyone is a sweaty mess. Only their bare shins are feeling the chill. Jack’s legs are cold too, there is no doubt, but he’s in too much of a good mood to let it bother him. During clean-up, he can’t stop tackling the others for their balls and just generally getting under everyone’s feet like some damn puppy.

After about two hours of the shit’s hyper-activeness, Aster’s patience finally reaches its limit. “And what’s got you pumped full of sugar first thing on a Saturday?” he asks as Jack leans into him, helping him stretch out his muscles to avoid cramp. “I’m just in a good mood,” the boy replies with a smirk, perhaps pushing harder than he needs to and Aster starts swearing.

The team are all together, like a loosely formed circle meaning everyone else can hear, and what with the way Jack is trying to snap Aster’s hip in half, they’re all watching too. “Jack, you’re always in a good mood. This is more like you’re high as a kite mate.”
“Can’t I just be excited for the match tomorrow?”
“Sure you can. But we both know, to you, Football’s more of a game than a sport. And you might be one competitive little bugger, but not even you would be bouncing off the walls for a no-stakes friendly with Arendelle.”

“Nah, bet it’s got something to do with a date,” Eret pipes up. “Let me guess. They’re coming tomorrow and you’re planning to show off.” Jack just grins. “I got to take every chance I can get.”

“Wait! What?”
And okay, that’s a little bit too much Jack thinks. “Jack, are you really seeing someone?” Aster asks, mildly desperate for an answer, hooking an arm around the boy’s neck before Jack can escape the headlock, and suddenly he’s fighting the knuckles rubbing hard on his scalp. “Get off, or I won’t tell you shit!”
No one gives him a hand, but it’s not like he needs it, slipping out of the boy’s hold and dancing to the other side of Cloud, while Aster chases him, swearing for the amusement of the rest of the team. They’re not as involved as seeking answers concerning Jack’s love life as Aster, but neither can they resist a little teasing.

“Anyone can be excited to show off,” Sammy says with a grin, “but it’s more than that. Either Jack got laid last night or he’s gonna get laid in a minute.”
“Or after the match tomorrow,” Cloud adds as the group bubble in laughter, amidst Jack’s embarrassed spluttering, each taking their turn to poke fun at him over his supposed girlfriend.

‘Crush’ would be more accurate, but it’s not like Jack has invited Hiccup yet, but the idea has been floating around his head all morning. He’s just going to have to decide whether he’s actually going to ask Hiccup to come along or not.

Coach only keeps them back for five more minutes with a final pep talk, getting the big one out the way before tomorrow’s match. And then they’re all heading to the benches, the Vanguard twins’ intent on tripping each other up and keeping everyone’s moods high when suddenly Aster puts his hand on Jack’s shoulder and nods towards the fence.
“Dude, who’s that waving at you?” Jack’s not the only one to look where Aster gestured, already smiling at the sight of the short, pastel candy store stood near the gate, waving wildly and now shouting his name.

Like Jack, Punzie is rarely bothered by the cold and she’s making the most of it; wearing a baby pink skater dress, mis-matched tights and high heels that make her the same height as Jack when she runs over regardless of the still-damp grass, nearly tripping so it looks like she throws herself into his arms.
Expecting it, Jack caught her with ease.

She’s practically bouncing with the same excitement he is. “Nice goal loser.”
“Nice frostbite midget,” he snipes right back, ruffling her hair deliberately so that it falls in front of her face. “Did Dad drop you off?”
“No, I’ve been at Pascal’s. Thought we could head home together.”
“In those shoes?”
“If you ask nice enough, I don’t mind letting you wear them.”

He just messes with her hair again.

There’s a distinct cough somewhere off to his lift, prompting Jack and Punzie to look up from their grinning. Some of the guys are still hanging about, either because they’re nosy or curious or both.
Punzie, who is not intimidated by the boys in the slightest, pulls out of Jack’s hug and offers a hand to Cloud who was closest, being a formal little shit and not at all putting on airs where she says, “My name’s Rapunzel.”
“Like the princess?”
“One and only.”

Without missing a beat, Cloud takes her offered hand and kisses it with a joking bow of his head. Punzie just turns back to Jack, her grin boosted. “I like this one.”
“I like him too so don’t scare him off. Guys, this is my baby sister. Only listen to half of what she says and believe none of it.” They all laugh at her mumbled “spoilsport.”

The Frost siblings are quick to leave after that, saying goodbye to the team and promising to see them at the college stadium tomorrow, ‘ready to beat Arendelle into the ground!’
“Arendelle? Is that the college you’re playing tomorrow in the football match,” Punzie asks, taking her usual place next to Jack, their elbows linked and a spring to both their steps like they’re in some Charlie Chaplin movie. She’s wearing his football jacket because the wind seems to blow right down the avenue, and her aforementioned attire will likely result in hypothermia if Jack didn’t at least offer one of his layers.
Still being warm from practice, he can manage the half hour it will take them to trek home, especially if they swing by the coffee house by the traffic lights.

“Yeah, first unofficial official match.”
“Unofficial official?” she parrots. “Well Arendelle is in the top of the leagues for qualifying for the Spring tournament for the county.” Punzie watches with a knowing look. “And what’s got you all excited about football? I know you’re competitive, but it’s not like you to get this hyped about Football.”
“Well, this term we’ve got to qualify in the top sixteen to get a chance at competing for a chance at the cup,” Jack says, throwing himself into explanation, in hopes that Punzie will drop whatever she thinks she’s seen and so that he doesn’t have to think about the other stuff bothering him.

Punzie accepts the distraction is seems, letting Jack explain all about the upcoming preliminaries, how the team last year were in the middle rankings but that Coach thinks they’ve got a real shot at taking the cup this term, meaning more money for the sports quarter and a chance of Jack getting a scholarship for a University if the big leagues take note. He’s on the Football team now from his years at his previous school, and although it wasn’t necessary for financial reasons this time, it certainly would come in handy in two or three years.

Concern for his academic future should be enough of a lie to distract Punzie he thinks, but looking back at his sister, Jack knows she didn’t buy it. Because of course she would see through him. There was very few who could fool Punzie.

Although, it probably didn’t help Jack’s case that he’s got his mobile in hand and he can’t stop turning it on to stare at the screen, like he’s either waiting for a text or deliberating whether or not to send one.

There’s no question.
A deliberate eye movement perhaps and a gentle curl of her lips, but no spoken question.

He shakes his head, now that they’re outside the coffee house.
The rest of the walk home is done in silence, but Punzie sticks close and Jack lets her. His mobile is now in his bag, purposefully buried beneath his things but that does little to abate his desire to dig it back out again and stare at the keyboard and wonder what he could bug Hiccup with, just so they could chat together, for hours on end.
There is the added desire to just invite him and Toothless round, because it’s Saturday and they’re both free, but Jack is trying to exercise restraint. It’s a decision he is struggling to stick with.

At home, Jack has no energy to do assignments or even switch on his computer to stream anything. Playing games is too much effort as well, and after watching his party get slayed by the same ambushers for the third time in a row, Jack gives up and leaves it on the home screen.

It’s at this point that Punzie enters, an announcement for dinner and a penchant for cheering up her brother.
She’s changed out of her pop-culture fashion, hair pinned back into its familiar plait and threaded with a pencil or two. She’s back in her usual outfit of the oversize jumpsuit; a soft purple but marked with a thousand different paint stains from where she’s working on another project, or maybe a commission. Jack doesn’t know, and neither does he feel like asking.

“Coming," he says, but instead of making an effort to get out of bed, Jack just rolls over, elbow catching the controller and mashing several buttons at once. The TV makes a noise but Jack doesn’t lift his head to see what’s being loaded up.

Rather, his hands curls around his mobile that had not remained buried in the bottom of his track bag, once again staring at the lock screen, regarding neither time nor background but instead the emptiness beneath the digital clock.

No text.

Not that he was expecting one. Hoping, sure.
But he hasn’t sent Hiccup the invite, so of course there is no reply.
He’s just being stupid.

Rapunzel made a noise from the doorway. “Bad day?” she asked, knowing perfectly well he wasn’t in the best of moods. The only times that Jack spends time laying is bed is a lie-in, and that doesn’t last long considering the bean is a morning person and is usually up with the sun. To see him like this was an obvious red flag that something was pressing on his mind.
It hurt Punzie to see it. It brought back too many memories of their old home and the times she caught Jack crying when he thought no one was home.

But with no words to offer, the young girl felt lost.

Jack heard her sigh, and the all too familiar sounds of her footsteps approaching. He felt the bed sink a little as she perched herself on the edge, leaning back to rest against Jack. The theme to Dead Walkers starts playing from where Jack’s button mash had called up the recent app to start the thing running: He hadn’t bothered to take the disc out after he and Hic had been watching them.
Remembering Hiccup lounging on his bed didn’t help Jack’s mood. In fact, it made it worse.

So, he closed his eyes, petulant in the way he hoped that would bar his unruly thoughts.

“Want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about really,” he tells her. Because it’s true. There’s nothing to say. He’s being stupid. He’s pining. He’s being love-sick and an idiot and a bad friend and he wants to call up Hiccup—

“Jack?”
“It’s nothing, Punzie. I’m just not feeling great.”

She’s quiet for a moment, before asking “head?”
“Yeah. Bad head.”

As if the admission is an invitation, Punzie curls up next to him, pressing into his back. She knows he’s not doing so good, because Jack doesn’t roll over and hug her back. So, she drapes her arms around him; protective and comforting at the same time.
And even though Jack isn’t talking, he already feels a bit better. He will talk, they both know he will. He just needs a moment to sort out his thoughts. And maybe he’ll talk with her today or later, but as long as he knows she’s there for him.
Dad’s there for him too, but not right now, and that’s okay too.

Jack is thankful for his family.
He’s grateful he can feel at ease to talk about this sort of thing, with both of them. He has before, and they’ve both helped him. And despite her younger age, Punzie seems to have a knack for giving him advice on things like this.
Things like love.

Jack felt Rapunzel’s hand in his hair, stroking the back of his head like he used to do to her; when she would wake in the dark hours of night, crying because she was still just a child, looking for her mother; when Dad hadn’t heard her, or was at work, leaving Jack in charge.
Jack, who had crawled into his sister’s bed and hugged her under the covers, hidden from the monsters, who told her random stories that came into his head.
So she would relax and go to sleep. So Dad didn’t have to worry about them.
They were fine. They were always fine.

But now it was Punzie’s turn to comfort him. Stroke his head and hum some pop song off the radio.

Somewhere along the line, she had stopped being that scared little girl who was scared of the bogey man under the bed and needed to know Jack was just on the other side of the wall and that it was okay to be afraid.
She was stronger now, taking Jack’s lead. She could be his pillar of support, as much as he was to her in those moments when she still needed him.

And maybe Jack doesn’t want to have to rely on Punzie this time, wishing that he could still be her ‘brave big brother’ that could face anything and anyone. But after last time…

Jack breathes out his frustration in one long pointed sigh.

“I thought I’d be able to keep some distance between me and Hic. Have us be friends. Stay friends,” he says.
“But I can’t help but want more. I want to spend more time with him. Even when we’ve spent the whole day together, I can’t help but want to ring him up and talk with him for hours and hours.”

His voice bleeds with emotion, but he can’t seem stop, now that he’s started.
“When he’s not with me, I want to know where he is and what he’s doing and that he’s feeling happy. And if he’s upset, I want to be there to cheer him up. I want him to want me as much as I want him…”

He pauses, choking back emotion.

“But I don’t want to want him at all. I don’t want to ruin our friendship because, he’s just, so damn important to me.”

The arms around his waist curl tighter. Jack knows it’s not her who is trembling, knows the emotion he holds within him is the cause.
Quietly, she speaks. “Why don’t you tell him.”
Her words are muffled where her mouth is pressed to Jack’s back, but he heard her loud and clear. “And have him hate me? Tease me, accuse me of wanting to fuck him, have him make fun of me just because I’m a little bit different to everyone else?” Jack can’t keep the anger from his voice, the tears he had tried to hold back breaking free.

With embarrassment and frustration warring within him, he shrugs her off, tearing away from the nest of blankets. He can’t even meet her eyes.
“You know what my “friends” did to me. You were there! You heard what they said, what they called me, that I shouldn’t…. I shouldn’t be…”

And just as quick as it came, his anger dissipated into lonely emptiness. He hung his head, palming his tears; flinching ever so slightly when Punzie lay her arms around him again.

When he spoke, he was quiet. “I fucked up once, Punzie. I fucked up so bad and we had to move. I can’t fuck up this time. I can’t lose him.”

“And you really think he is like them?”

Rapunzel spoke calmly, her voice resounding with a matureness her brother hadn’t heard before. And even thought he could feel her arms around him, there was a distance between them. It was cold and unpleasant.

The silence that followed spoke volumes.
She was angry at him.
No. Ashamed.

“I know you don’t believe that,” Rapunzel went on. Her voice was stern now. She sat tall and strong, years aging her as she looked at him with fierce eyes, as if daring him to challenge her claim. It made Jack feel like a child, listening to his mother scold him for drawing on the walls.
And although she had no one to teach her the stern kindness she gave, Rapunzel spoke with confidence.

“Hiccup isn’t like them. He may not understand, and he certainly may not feel the same way as you do, but he would never hurt you like they did,” she says vehemently. “If you told him, and asked him not to say anything to anyone else, I have absolute faith that he wouldn’t tell anybody. “He may not have your circumstances, but he has his own that has shown him to be a bloody decent person—”
“Punzie!”
“—and he’s good enough to be your friend.”

And even though Rapunzel has never spent more time with Hiccup than the perchance of catching him in the kitchen, or swinging by to let the boys know she was home, Punzie is sure in her decision that Hiccup is a good person.

“That dog loves him,” she says, as if to herself. “Anyone that adored by an animal can’t be a bad person.” Jack has to laugh at that. He can’t help but agree.

The sit for a moment, not really saying anything, just soaking in one another’s company. Jack is thankful, and grateful, all over again. It’s not that he likes to be a blubbering baby over the silliest of things, but he feels better afterwards and that’s what counts.

His mobile buzzes.

It’s a text from Hiccup.

“I say tell him,” Punzie says when Jack goes to reply. “Not over text, but face to face,” she goes on, ignoring the way Jack’s eyes widened in a silent plea.
“In your own time and somewhere where you’re both comfortable. Not at College or anywhere too public. You don’t have to tell him about what happened with the others. Just tell him as much as you need, until he understands, or understands as much as he is able. And even if he reacts… badly, at first, you have to at least give him a chance to cool his head.”

Punzie stood, nodded to herself in approval before holding a hand out for him. The young girl had made her point. She didn’t need to start an argument, knowing any bad words exchanged would just convince Jack to do the opposite of her advice.
He couldn’t help but admire her; deep seated and long lasting.

“Dinner,” Rapunzel said, with the voice of Mother. “And then afterwards, you can help me make cookies.”

Notes:

Woo, progress.

Chapter 13: Running Away From Frostbite

Summary:

Jack's been given advice from Punzie. Now it's up to him to act on it or not.

SUNDAY 22nd October

Hiccup has never really been interested in Football before and hadn’t watched any official matches either, be it in person or simply crashed on the couch with junk food, friends and the volume amped up high enough to shake the rafters.

So, it’s quite odd for Hiccup to find himself among the crowds in the college stadium, first thing on a cold Sunday morning to support the home team when they faced off against Arendelle.
He was pleasantly surprised to find himself enjoying it.

Hiccup’s in the front stands, Mer, Toothless and Punzie all jumping up and down beside him; making just as much noise, shouting Jack’s name as he races up the field with the ball, purple-shirts on his tail, desperate to try and score to take the lead from where its two all. Berk managed to tie in the first half but they haven’t managed to break away since their second goal.
And although Hiccup is sure that this is just a practice game and doesn’t mean anything to either team if they win or lose, he would be lying if he said Berk weren’t out there to win.

Even Jack is playing hard, but whether it’s down to his competitiveness or the possibility of penalty of a loss, he’s not too sure. Whatever it is, it’s like electricity in the air, and Hiccup can feel the buzz like the chill on his skin.

“Go Jack!” Hiccup yells, clapping and cheering along with the crowd as he does some nifty, complicated-looking footwork to spin away from being pinned by purple-shirts one and two coming at him from upfield. They almost trip as they fumble after him, giving Aster plenty of time to swing up the right, ready to receive the ball when Jack kicks it to him. Good thing too, because seconds later and Jack’s jumping out the way of a sliding tackle from purple-shirt number three, before sprinting it upfield, should Aster need to do a fake out against the defenders.

Then some shit-stain on the opposition snags his ankle around Aster’s foot and the poor guy hits the deck. Yellow card. Too damn right.
Although, Hiccup isn’t quite so sure on the rules so maybe it was something else that qualified for a penalty kick, but he doesn’t care because it’s Berk’s ball and the infraction leaves them off center, right in front of the goal.

Aster, Eret and Jack are close together, nodding, maybe talking too but Hiccup and the Berk’s supporters are yelling way to loud to be sure. Then Aster’s behind the ball, lining up the shot and the Arendelle defenders have blocked him out. Shit, shit, that’s not good, is it? How much time is left?
Hiccup’s not sure, but then there’s the whistle and Aster is off. He takes it at a run.
Jack runs too and there’s a second to laugh at the confusion of the defenders as they fumble in position.

Jack and Aster charge the ball at the same time, Jack slightly faster. He’s going to take the shot – but no, he’s not, he jumped over it. It’s Aster’s ball and he’s charging straight forward.

And then at the last possible second, Aster swings his foot around and rockets the ball over towards Eret. It’s a clean shot. An almost perfect shot and he doesn’t even have to catch the ball and position it, but swing out with his leg and send the ball racing past the wall of purple-shirts, past the hands of the goal keeper and smashes into the back of the net.

If Hiccup thought the cheering was loud earlier, it held nothing to the victory cheer. He’s laughing all the way through it, watching Jack and Aster tackle Eret into a hug, taking him out so that they land on a heap on the damp grass. They barely get to their knees before the rest of the forwards catch up and they join the dogpile while the stadium erupts into laughter and whooping calls and the beginning of a chant (that may or may not have been led by Merida) of “Berk kicks ass!”
Hiccup can’t help but join in, a little, still clapping along and laughing when Punzie climbs up on her chair to act like some sort of conductor and prompting a really bad, but still enthusiastic Mexican wave.

Because it’s an informal match, there are no speeches or ceremonious duties for the after quarter, meaning that when Hic and the others invade the pitch, the team are still buzzing from excitement.
Jack especially, who can’t seem to help himself from wrapping his arms around his sister and swinging her madly. Merida has the mind to hook a hand around Toothless’s harness to stop him from lunging forward and getting kicked in the maw where he’s just as excited as the Frost siblings to join in on the action.

“Nice play,” Hiccup grins when Jack and Punzie part, punching Jack on the arm, really hanging for the bro vibe, when suddenly there’s arms around him and he’s being swung about as well. And it’s not like he squeals, but there may have been a surprised squeak that has them all laughing again when Hiccup finally has his feet (one real, one fake) on the grass again. He can’t help but lean on Jack for fear of falling over; Jack’s arm still hooked around his shoulders to stop him getting a face full of grass.

Neither of them can stop grinning.

“God, it really was a fun game. And man, I’m glad that Eret got that shot, but I wish I had scored more than once.”
“More than once,” Hiccup parrots, a finger prodding into Jack’s arm, deliberately aiming for the soft spot near his armpit that had Jack squeaking himself. “Like you didn’t charge that goal half a dozen times. You would’ve scored if it wasn’t for Arendelle’s goalie being about two metres and the arm span as wide as he is tall.”
“That’s right. Blame the other git,” Merida grins from the side, having released Toothless so that he could go chase Aster and Finley while the rest of the team still celebrate. Their calling the boy’s back, Coach as well, with his whistle, his clipboard and his shorts, which makes Hiccup shiver involuntarily at the thought of being cold.

“C’mon Frost. Stretch before you get cramp!”

“And that’s my cue,” Jack hums, unwinding his arm just as Toothless trots back over to the group at Punzie’s insistence so that Aster and Finley can join the team too. “Meet you at Gobber’s place? I think Coach wants to have a pep talk and lord knows how long that’s going to take.”
“We can wait,” Hiccup offers, but Jack shakes his head. “Nah its cool. Just save us the usual seat. I think Cloud wants to swing up to the shop anyway for some cigs and you know how slow Aster is.”
“With Gobber’s food waiting for him, it shouldn’t take long.”
“True.”

And with that, Jack’s off, joining the team where they’re already stretching, still celebratory and beginning to feel the crisp wind now that they’re not chasing the ball up the field. Hiccup takes the opportunity to ogle from a safe distance.

Merida stands beside him.

“Careful Hic. You’re droolin’.”

---

It was almost noon by the time Hiccup’s phone buzzed, letting him and the others know that Jack and the boys had finished their chat with Coach and had begun making their way over. “Looks like some of the others tagged along too,” Hic tells the others, summarising Jack’s text without articulating all the emojis and the hyper of his personality that he had managed to cram into the hundred or so characters.
Honestly though, Hiccup was just as excited as Jack, if not more, and was excited to spend the three-day weekend with his best friend without the interruption of unwanted adults. The cherry on the cake was that Stoick was on a business meeting until next week, and that meant Hiccup was determined to have some serious late nights catching up on his social life.

Remarkably, Merida has been behaving herself ever since she found out (by which, Punzie filled her in when Hiccup declined heading to the Archipelago to see Astrid) and has henceforth stemmed any unwanted comment towards the details of Hiccup’s weekend plans. But that might be more down to the fact that Punzie is in their immediate vicinity than any etiquette on the Ginger’s behalf.

They’ve barely been sat for twenty minutes, but Hiccup would’ve expected Mer to get restless soon, which would’ve happened if Punzie didn’t have her fully engaged in conversation about some garbage reality show that was only worth watching to take the piss out of who was participating. Hiccup didn’t watch so there was little point in trying to follow the conversation beyond the odd question here or there and not get pulled into an emoji war with Jack, as the pair are prone to doing when they can’t be bothered to text real words.
Mer is side eyeing him though, and it doesn’t take long for Hic to decide he’s going to meet the others out front to save her from the temptation, (and him the embarrassment).

Toothless trails loyally behind him as the pair wander down to the first floor, Hiccup instantly regretting having not snagged his coat as soon as the front door opened and he was greeted with a brisk wind that breathed ice down his neck. Toothless is fine in his furs and doesn’t hold back to barrel out the door once he’s figured there is no one on the other side.
He banks right, following the path towards the beer garden and the stretch of green that lets him run amuck in the Summer when Hiccup would settle on a park bench and just let him be a dog. But being near the comfort of the restaurant is a security that allows as such, and it is here, cold but happy, that Jack finds Hiccup not soon after.

“You know, we said we’d catch up so that you guys wouldn’t freeze. And yet here you are. Outside. Freezing.”
“Toothless is more selfish than you are. He didn’t want to stay inside so I was forced to come too. Besides, the frostbite isn’t that bad,” Hiccup grins.
Honestly, it’s not as cold as it could be, and they’re about to sit down to a hot meal for the next hour or so, so he’s got plenty of time to regain feeling to his toes. Jack just flicks him on the forehead and calls him a “divit,” like he’s seen Merida do a few thousand times. Hiccup can’t help but blush, already stammering over his words when Cloud calls out from car park.

“Jack…”
“Yeah?”
“You know you text me to tell me some of the others were tagging along?”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t say it would be the entire football team!”

Because there they all are, gather in the carpark: Berk’s football team, hugging themselves in their coats. Some of them are looking up at the building, trying to hide their interest as they take it in while others are buried in conversation. Aster was trying to trip Cloud and Eret, who were being loud and boisterous and—

“It’s okay, right? Because I know that the plan was that it would only be a few of us, but Fin overheard Aster and we mentioned it and then suddenly it turned into Harry and him coming, then some of the others said they’d come and I didn’t mean—”
“Jack, it’s fine. I’m just surprised you ended dragging them all here.”
“Hey, I didn’t drag anyone. They tagged along by themselves.”

“C’mon guys. Stop flirting so that we can go in. We’re cold and hungry,” Aster shouts at them, as if Cloud’s shout hadn’t notified the boys they were there. “Yeah, yeah, coming,” Hiccup shouts back, smiling at the embarrassed look on Jack’s face, watching as he stumbles over his words, probably still intent on trying to apologise, even if Hiccup doesn’t mind. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with the entire team: it’s just that he barely knows more than a few of them and he isn’t a fan of awkward silences.
Although, considering the company, Hiccup doubts that such a thing could find the spotlight.

Inside, it’s a bit of a squeeze when Hiccup leads them to the backroom. “Bunch up,” he grins, when Merida and Punzie look up to the sight of the boys filing though the door. “Jack brought us some company.”
The table comfortably sat sixteen, so there wasn’t much of a squish when it came down to it – although Hiccup wasn’t complaining when Jack sidled in close, leaving Cloud and Aster to worry about everyone else when Toothless decided he didn’t fancy sitting on the floor.

“You’re almost as cold as me,” Jack says when Hiccup’s hand brushes against him. He grabs them and holds them in his, as if making a point to warm them. “And what are you trying to do? Steal my remaining warmth?” Hic asks. His face is hot, so if Jack really wants to steal his heat, then all he’s got to do is cuddle up close—
“Well know you have me figured out, guess I don’t have to hold back,” Jack grins, and then he’s nudging himself even closer.
Hiccup feels his cheeks grow warmer.

Despite Hiccup’s earlier unease, conversation passed easily between the group. As much as Hiccup was a new face to many of them, so was Merida and Punzie, whom didn’t share the same social anxiety as the freckled teen, but just as much curiosity that allowed Hiccup to get to know that without having to trip over his words and embarrass himself.
They talked of college, or the game, or football, skipping back and forth from one conversation to another so easily that Hiccup couldn’t keep up. He ended up talking to Cloud for the most part, a rare chance to talk of semi-serious subjects, surrounding his transfer and future plans, which was surprising considering they were still in the first term of their first year.
It beat chatting about stats and football and the kind of things that Hiccup could respect others enjoyed, but that he didn’t.

And sure, he came out to watch the boys play, and one could argue that he has to have at least some interest in the game to watch a match, but Hiccup knows it’s more down to a specific player than any love for the game.
Thankfully Cloud doesn’t pry and Hiccup doesn’t have to feel self-conscious about how his eyes keep flicking back to Jack whenever he and Aster get loud with their laughing, the pair of them teasing Merida and joking with the others.

Beyond the names he already knows, Hic manages to catch the names of Macguffin, a tall lad that speaks with a heavy accent the only Merida had an ease of understanding. There were the brothers, Bart and Bellamere Tveir, and the twins, Ruff and Tuff, (although Hiccup wasn’t sure if he had been given their real names or if everyone was pulling a collective prank, even though Cloud assured him that that were their names) who were just as hyper as Jack, if not more so, and an appetite that challenged Toothless’s, if their order was anything to go by.

Its when the food gets served up which happens to be the only time of silence – which just goes to show how hungry everyone was – shortly followed by intense praises and several questions from the twins on just how the hell Jack managed to find this place and keep it quiet for so many weeks.
“It’s Hiccup’s,” the teen grins between bites of his burger, completely glazing over the fact it was in fact, Gobber’s restaurant and Hiccup mainly just ate here for free whenever he couldn’t be bothered to cook for himself and Toothless, or put up with Stoick when he was in a foul mood, or when the weather was bad and he didn’t fancy walking all the way home in a surprise downfall.

Eyes turned to the Brunette, who couldn’t help but sink lower in his seat from the attention. “It’s not,” Hiccup begins, but Jack’s devil-may-care smile lights up, followed by a string of praises that makes it sound like Hiccup didn’t so much as have a hand in helping paint some of the shields, but instead had done everything himself.
Merida, like the little shit she was, joined in, much to Jack’s delight, Hiccup’s horror and Punzie’s admiration, which quickly turned to his inspiration, his heritage and a slew of questions that were only stemmed by the blonde’s hunger for salty chips and calorie-swamped burgers.

---

As the late morning bled into early afternoon, Hiccup could feel himself relaxing into the atmosphere of the group.
The twins were as hyper as usual, egging on the Tveir brothers with their antics, but both completely outdone when it came to Merida throwing chips into Harry’s mouth, the noise getting progressively louder the further back the pair got from one another.

“So, who’s she,” Aster asked, acting in a way that would suggest he didn’t want to be heard, but also kind of did. He’s grinning when he looks to Hiccup. “Been hiding away a girlfriend and not fancied introducing her sooner?”
Hiccup just huffed to himself. “What is it and with everyone thinking we’re a thing?” Although his rant is cut short when Jack jumps in with a sly grin. “They’re cousins. But if you want a funnier reaction to that question, you’ve got to ask Merida.” His comment earns him a jab to the ribs, courtesy of Hiccup.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that myself,” Aster says, glancing between the quiet boy and the boisterous red-head who was challenging anyone to an arm wrestle, simultaneously stroking their egos and setting them on fire in the same sentence.
Hiccup can’t help but agree with the observation, but he’s played off plenty of comparisons when the adults used to compare him to Merida or Astrid or both. He’s grown out of getting annoyed by it.

Then, Aster went on to make cracks about knowing Hiccup couldn’t get someone like Merida as his girlfriend, which made Hiccup a little nervous, because in all honesty Aster was completely correct. He didn’t say this of course, nor did he explain why, but it wasn’t long until someone else picked up on his nervousness.
“Lay off of him,” Jack cautioned, although, it was all in light-hearted humour, just as the grey’s teasing had been. He shunted the taller teen with his arm, forcing him to shuffle out of reach before elbows turning into digging fingers looking for his ribcage.

“Don’t worry about him,” Cloud says under his breath, leaning in to Hiccup’s space. “He’s just showing off. This happens every time a girl comes within three feet of him,” he said, as they watched Aster challenge Merida himself.

“I don’t mind. To be honest, Aster’s right. She’s not really my type.”
“What, loud?”
“No. Taken.”

Because despite Merida’s outrageous personality, she managed to snag herself a decent boyfriend in the big teddy bear that was Angus. They’ve already got plans to move into an apartment next summer when Angus moves out of his Uni dorms and the two can actually be a proper couple.

Cloud smiles from behind his glass. “Well, at least she’s safe from Aster.”
“Or Aster is safe from her.”
“Who can say.”

---

"So, do I get my coat back, or have you claimed it?" Jack asks, nudging Hiccup with his elbow, unable to help the way he smiles at the sight of Hiccup huddled up in his parka.

The pair had come out to the beer garden for a breath of fresh air and to let Toothless have a little bit of a run around before its time to head back home. But Hiccup had forgot to grab his coat. Jack, the gentleman he was, hadn’t wasted anytime in shedding his own as the pair shared a bench, watching Toothless scout the back fence for rabbits or what other animals snuffled in the hedgerow.

“But I like your coat. It’s warm,” Freckles whines jokingly. “Of course its warm. I was just in it.” But Jack is only teasing, and Hiccup, who knows this, does not relinquish the parker. Instead, he buries himself further, turns his head to poke his tongue in jest, before cracking into a glorious smile that stretches across all of his face, from stretching lips to the cobweb creases in the corner of his eyes.

The cold makes Hiccup’s cheeks red, his freckles so much more prominently dusted upon his skin that Jack can’t help but want to trace with his fingers, dot-to-dotting them until they look like star constellations caught in the pattern of his skin. His hair is wind-tousled; a tangled nest of coffee warmth that is as inviting as everything about this boy, Jack not even trying to hold himself back as he leans his body against the other, taking the moment to breath in the peace of being here, with Hiccup, like this.

And it is now, when the two of them are sat together, in the quiet peace of a chilly Sunday afternoon, that Jack feels words upon his tongue he thought himself not ready to say.
They caught him by surprise, trapped behind tightly clamped teeth with surprise, shock and maybe a little confusion as to where the confession had sprung from, considering the boy had leant the day to being a distraction rather than a decision already made to tell Hiccup he liked him…

But that wasn’t what Jack wanted to say anyway.
That was a step too far for any first step.
First, he just needed to be honest. Shift the weight on his chest. Just buck up and find the courage to tell Hiccup who he is, and that sometimes it was girls that caught his eye, sometimes it was guys, and this time it was Hiccup…

“Hey Hic—”
“Oi, lovebirds! You coming or what?”

The pair spun around, Jack painfully aware how Hiccup pulls away from him and is on his feet before Jack’s even figured out who was calling them. Its Eret, waving from near the fence. Behind him, the rest of the guys are piling into the carpark, some already heading off. Punzie and Merida are there too; Mer holding Hic’s coat while Punzie thumbs through her phone, either checking bus times or checking to see if Dad is in the area to pick them up. It’s a Sunday, so there is a possibility if there are no benefactors to take to lunch.

But Jack’s not thinking about that.
He’s thinking about Hiccup, and how he looks cute with his nose slightly red and his eyes watering from the cold, and how much he wants to kiss him.

Chapter 14: I Should've Stayed In Bed

Notes:

Once upon a time, I knew where this story was going.

Wednesday 25th October

Jack ran his hands through his hair for the third time in under a minute, not sure why he felt like his neck was on the chopping block or why his heart was running laps around the field. Sammy kept giving him a side-long glances as if he was trying to figure out what was wrong and if it was worth asking, but Jack was deliberate in keeping his eyes turned away so that he couldn’t say anything.
Not that that would deter anyone else, and of course as soon as Aster made his way across the fields, he took one look at the way Jack was pacing and called him out on it.

“Oi, Frost. You’re wearing your shoes out. What’s got you so worried?” But Jack, not in the mood to be drilled about what’s got his head all tangled, just shoots back: “Nothing. I’m cold.”
Even Cloud, who had been with Aster, called bullshit on that one, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms in a very clear imitation of Coach when he catches one of the guys being lazy with training. “Jack, you never get cold. And shit mate, it ain’t even that cold if Aster hasn’t started all his griping yet.”
And damn, they’re right. Despite last week’s chill, the days have been warm of late, but it’s all like a last-ditch attempt at summer considering they’re in the last week of October and every seasonal tree is a dusty old brown with the golden carpet of Autumn long since rolled out and rolled up.

Aster slings an arm over Jack’s shoulders, leaning his weight onto him and Jack has to consciously plant his feet to stop the two of them from tripping into the mud. “So what’s bugging you? I would’ve thought you’d still be riding the fact we’ve got a week off from school starting tomorrow, but you’re looking like a kicked puppy.”
“More like a puppy who can’t find his owner,” Cloud smiles and there’s a split second where Jack hates him, because the asshole is really, really perceptive.

Aster looks blankly between them; Cloud rolling his eyes because, while he’s preceptive, Aster is a brick in a greenhouse. He gestures to the lack-of someone that wasn’t currently present.
“Jack’s been avoiding Hiccup.”
“No, I haven’t!”

Which is the truth, but that doesn’t help the fact that whenever Jack and Hiccup have managed to catch one another, the conversation is stunted from a mixture of Jack being an awkward best-friend-loving-idiot and Hiccup being really damn tired. They haven’t been meeting as per usual, because apparently Hiccup’s been cramming his evenings with some essays as well as studying for some end-of-term tests alongside their usual workload of homework, so he’s been fairly busy and there hasn’t been much time to hang out. That included Lunch, although Hiccup’s meeting them halfway through because he’s currently sitting on of said end-of-term exams.

Recently, talking was mostly over the phone if done at all.
But it wasn’t like Jack’s any decent for conversation right now.

He had finally decided that he was going to take his sister’s advice and open up to Hiccup more. It’s not like he’s going to confess his feelings – because that hurdle was just too high right now – but that Jack wants to be himself around Hiccup, and that means being straight. Well, not straight. Just honest.
Because he’d rather get everything out in the open on his terms than having to fuck-up and explain himself when he was panicking and probably say something really fucking stupid.

Sure, there are lingering worries that remain from what happened last time, and sure, if Hiccup wanted to yell and curse him and throw a couple of punches for good measure, it wasn’t like it could be as bad as back then.
Not that Hiccup would ever. But no matter how many times Jack reminds himself, he still can’t shake that tiny little fear.

So they were going to talk. Hiccup was coming round tonight, after practice like usual: the pair of them having planned a binge-fest of horror movies and enough junk food to make them sick.
And Jack was going to tell him. It was right before autumn half-term, so that if Hiccup was going to shout and scream and break Jack’s happiness into a thousand pieces, he would have a week to pick everything up and put it all back together again before winter term.

---

Winter was well and truly on its way; Hiccup yawning as he curls tighter into his coat. Finally. No more exams until May. That meant no more late-night studying and more time sleeping.

Hiccup yawns again, lamenting the fact he had given Cassie his hat this morning. She had a cold. She needed it more.
Beside Hic has a particularly puffy coat with deep pockets. He had also forgone the mad idea of holding Toothless’s leash, instead simply tucking it into his harness so that the boy could bury his hands in his pocket and fend off frostbite. He casts a scowl towards the ashen sky, begging for sun, but knowing that sleet was in the evening’s forecast.
Maybe today the weather man could be wrong. Maybe today they were going to be hit with a heatwave and Hiccup would regain the feelings in his toes.

And yet while the weather was colder than Thor’s frozen nutsack, Hiccup was grateful.
It gave him every excuse to wear long sleeves. Because Dagur was an asshole who thought that Hiccup’s defiance was just him sulking about not being screwed over the summer holidays or something like that, and the damn bastard has the gall – the gall – to turn up to Hiccup’s house on Sunday after he’d got home from Gobber’s place and hanging with Jack and the team…

Hiccup buried another yawn into his coat. Fucking exams. Fucking Dagur.
While Stoick pretty much left Hiccup to be a ghost in his own house, there was still something terrifying at the prospect of him finding out that his son was gay. He was traditional enough to give Hiccup a stupid Viking name that left Hiccup with every right to assume that his father shared much the same views as others of his generation.

So of course, when Dagur came knocking at ass-o’clock on Sunday night, Hiccup had no choice but to hear him out.
Hear his fists too, because the bastard is like a child throwing a tantrum when someone stole his favourite toy, and apparently roughing Hiccup up can be an alternative to getting him off rather than a quick screw behind the garage.

Sensing his foul mood, Toothless nosed Hic’s leg, catching him off guard and nearly off balance, but the sudden fear of falling was grounding enough that Hiccup snapped himself out of his head. He gave his bud a quick rub down, eyes catching the mottles shape of fingers around his wrists from where his sleeves had ridden up his arms. He’s quick to pull them down, fingers lacing the hem to hold it as such, jerking his head towards the back field as he stands up to encourage Toothless to keep walking.

They head towards the football pitch, hoping to catch Jack and they guys for the remaining quarter of lunch rather than doing the decidedly smart thing staying inside where it’s warm.

On the far side of the college grounds there were various groups of other energetic kids were exploring the freedom of a grey-skied afternoon, some kicking can in replacement to a football, had Hiccup ducking down to grab Tooth’s leash to keep him on track. Not that he needed to worry. Toothless knew exactly where they were heading, following the same path they followed every day for lunch and so Hiccup let himself be led, not having to focus too much on keeping an eye on where he’s going with Toothless clearing a path through the milling students.

When they reached the pitch, Toothless announced their arrival in a volley of barks, his tail wagging ten to the dozen, pace quickening a half that Hiccup feels it jolt through the leash and he lets go, meandering towards the bench he usually frequents, because apparently Hiccup’s friends are all football nerds and they can’t get enough of kicking a ball. If Hiccup had two flesh feet, he might’ve joined them, but running on a non-sports prosthetic is agony for his leg.

They’ve got another couple of hours to play, Wednesday’s being the day when Jack, Cloud and Aster have a lesson of P.E. right after lunch, with practice to follow, but none of them are thinking about conserving their energy as they chase Toothless around and pass the ball with him as puppy-in-the-middle.

Well, Cloud and Aster play games.
Jack makes his way over to the bench to say hi, grinning like they haven’t seen each other in weeks. Hiccup feels much the same, although they had hung out a little yesterday. He’s grinning too, trying to squash down the stupid urge to jump up and hug him. Normally he would, except this time he’s unbearably cold and tired, and Hiccup shouldn’t let himself indulge in case one day he gets an urge to kiss Jack and just dives right in—

“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
Hiccup should probably stop grinning. Jack might realise he’s weird.

To distract himself, Hiccup yanks on his coat to pull it up where it had slipped away from his neck. Not for the first time, he eyes Toothless with envy. He was nice and snug in his coat while Hiccup was left to freeze his ass off on the cold bench. And seeing Jack in his skinny chinos and no jacket (thank you God) only makes him feel colder. Hiccup tells him as much.
“Not my fault you’re a beanstalk and the wind blows right through you,” Jack grins, but he’s digging through his bag which he had dumped on the bench.

“Here. Because you look like you’re freezing.”
He’s holding out his scarf, all blue and knitted and inviting. Hiccup stares at it, then back at Jack. Is he blushing? Oh god he must be blushing. “It’s okay I’m not that co—”
“Dude, your teeth are chattering. Just wear the bloody scarf.” Jack doesn’t give him any choice and wraps it around Hiccup’s neck, tucking it into his coat while taking the chance to grab and Hiccup yelps because fuck his hands are cold.

“Jack, you arse!”
“And what a nice arse it is,” Aster grins having got bored playing with Toothless. He comes up behind Jack, draping himself all over him with a big shit-eating grin on his face. “Seems like you’ve cheered up a bit. I wonder why.”
“Fuck off.”

Jack and Aster continue to rattle one another, the two of them rabbiting on about anything and everything; filling the silence with words that flew over Hiccup’s head. He tried to pay attention, tried to keep up with the conversation, answering with dull “mms,” and “yeses.” He seemed to be operating on autopilot, eyes half focused on the boys that have suddenly gathered in front of him, dumping their bags and coats. Hiccup just grins at them, returning a hello as he ducks to rub at his eyes again.

Someone dumps themselves beside him on the bench and Hiccup doesn’t need to lift his head to know it’s Jack. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’re about to drop dead.” Hiccup can hear the smile in his voice, but he’s quieter now. Concerned.
“I’m fine. Just exhausted. We’re not meant to be having exams yet, but I think teach wants us to be prepared before Christmas break,” Hiccup whines around a yawn. Because of course, he didn’t just have Dagur to deal with, but with college exams too. And now the cold.

“Well, today is almost over. And afterward, we don’t have college for a week. I’ve got ample time to pester and annoy the hell out of you.”
“Should I be worried?”
Jack grins. “Maybe.”

When the bell rings to signal the end of Lunch, Hiccup is almost certain that he has frozen to the bench. He hasn’t got a final lesson, and would usually head home early or, on the days that he and Jack were binging horror movies, he’d head to Gobber’s or hang out in the library. Now, though, Hiccup doesn’t have the energy to move. He’s almost comfortable enough to decide that sitting on the bench for the duration of P.E. is a good idea.

Coach blows the whistle and calls for the class to gather, and for those late onto the pitch to hurry up and change.
Jack runs off to join his friends, but not before throwing his coat at Hiccup, telling him not to freeze and that if he gets cold, head to the library. Then he’s racing to the lockers to that he can change before Coach notices that he’s running late.

Hiccup watches him go, not thinking as he brings a hand up to thread through the scarf, pressing it to his face and inhaling. It smells like Jack.
Of course it would, it’s Jack’s scarf and he’s probably been wearing it for most of today.
And it might be that the sudden onslaught of drowsiness is clogging up his thoughts, and while Hiccup wanted for his bed and feeling in his toes, he’s also perfectly content in this moment.
Losing one foot wasn’t that big of a deal. He’d happily lose the second to frostbite, as long as this moment lasted just a little longer.

…

He did not just think that, for fuck’s sake!

Coach blew the whistle again and Hiccup lifted his eyes to watch Jack and the boys beginning stretching, all in gym wear with shorts and plenty of soft supple skin and “kill me now,” Hiccup grumbles quietly.
And also that whistle is going to do nothing for his headache and Hiccup hates the fact that he doesn’t have any medicine in his bag. Maybe Jack does, but Hiccup’s not about to go searching, his eyes staring down at the parka laid over his legs and the way that Toothless settles his head on Hiccup’s knees, staring up at him as if he could read the boy’s mind.

“Don’t judge me.”

Toothless blinks.

“I said don’t judge me. You’re not allowed to judge me. You greet people by sniffing their butts and you lick people’s faces without asking them. That’s rude. You’re rude. You’re not allowed to judge me.”

Toothless just rolls his eyes and hops up onto the open space next to him, a firm line of warmth because of course, Toothless is a walking, drooling space heater. Hiccup leans into him, settling his chin into his hands and resigning himself to watching the boys kick footballs back and forth.
It was amusing enough when Jack, all long muscular legs and hot body, got bored with ‘legal tackling’ and focused more on tripping his mates up rather than chasing after the ball.

After the third time Aster realised it wasn’t accidents and he planned revenge, which devolved into something that could’ve ended up with a broken ankle if Coach didn’t step in and send them on ten laps of the pitch.
They got halfway round before Jack tripped Aster again, and he was off sprinting, cackling like the asshole he was.

They’re still finishing up their punishment laps when Cloud makes his way over to grab a drink from his bag and put his watch away, doing nothing to hold back a grin when he sees Hiccup huddled underneath Jack’s coat as well as Eret’s and Snot’s because they’d also dumped their bags on the bench, having been late to the lesson.
And, well, Hiccup might be polite, but he also hates being cold. And so he had… acquired two more coats.

“You alright? Busy day?”
“Yeah something like that,” Hiccup nods, pushing himself from where he had been laid on Toothless, shivering at the cold that creeps at the back of his neck. “I had an exam this morning. Been studying late last night so I pay for it now. Plus the cold makes me want to hibernate.”
“Just go home if you’re not well. You’ll end up making it worse if you’re sick.”

Cloud was watching him boy intently, making Hiccup squirm a little by the intenseness of it all. It reminded him of when Astrid somehow knew when he was lying, although, if it was her, she would’ve hit Hiccup at least once by now.
But Cloud was different. He was calm, kind and patient. He spoke with an authoritive tone, yet Hiccup didn’t feel like he was being pressured. Just advised. Which made it easy for him to decline, even if he didn’t have a ready reason. “I’m going to Jack’s after this. Seeing as we’ve got a week off, we made plans to just laze at his for a few days.”

Cloud raised both eyebrows. “You staying over?”
“Umm, yeah…” Hiccup wasn’t sure why Cloud felt the need to ask, or why he asked it in that voice, but before Hiccup can ask what he meant, Coach is blowing his whistle again.
Did he really need to blow it so loud? Every time, it felt like the noise was right next to Hiccup’s ear, and his brain thought the best thing to do was bounce about and bruise itself on his skull.

“If you get cold, feel free to snag mine and Aster’s coats,” Cloud says, pulling them from where they’d been piled on the other end of the bench, ruffling Toothless’s head before making his way back to the group. He had barely taken five steps before Hiccup had reached over and gathered the offered coats, draping Cloud’s bigger coat over his shoulders to try and warm himself up.

It was really cold outside.
Hiccup didn’t know how Jack wasn’t complaining about his bare legs. He didn’t know how none of them were complaining. He certainly didn’t know why he had considered to sit outside this long – long enough that his right leg felt as numb as his left. Oh wait.

“We should’ve gone to the library,” Hiccup tells Tooth, who’s currently dozing on the bench. Hiccup leans into him again, nuzzling his face into Jack’s scarf. He wanted to go inside where it was warm.
He wanted to sleep.

Chapter 15: Fuck Me It's Cold (Also, Fuck You)

Notes:

[CONTENT FOREWARNING]
There are mature themes in this chapter that may be unpleasant and/or triggering to some people. To see the listed material, please scroll down to the end notes. Thank you.

Jack feels like there are coals beneath his feet.
He feels like there is smoke in his lungs and dogs baying at his heels as Coach blows the whistle, and he remembers to pace himself for the last few punishment laps. There would’ve been a dog at his heels if Toothless was allowed to join in practice, but he’s currently nestled up next to Hiccup on the bench who looks like he’s crawled underneath everyone’s coat and is trying to hibernate.

The idiot.

If he was cold, he should go inside. If he wasn’t feeling well, then he should just go home. They’ve got the whole half-term to meet up; he shouldn’t push himself.
Which sucked because Jack had hyped himself up to spill but there was no deadline and there was no use forcing Hic to hang out when he feels like shit.

When the lesson ends, Jack heads over to his bag, (making a point to tell everyone to be quiet when they extract their own from the bench) rifling through it to pull out his phone and text Merida. Being cousins he was going on the logic that she knew his parent’s number, or at least of someone that could come pick him up, because it wasn’t a good idea for Hic to walk home and Dad wasn’t available, if not Jack would’ve pimped his car out.
He shoots her a quick ‘where u at?’ then sent a quick text to Punzie, asking if she had her keys, because she has a habit of forgetting. Although, tonight she says she’s hanging at a friend, having the same freedom of no school tomorrow. Jack has barely punched out a dozen emojis before Merida has sent her reply.

Ginger:
At practice
why?

Hic ill
asleep

Ginger:
Srsly? Hes not just faking?
y text me?

No hes not faking,
literally passed out on the bench rn
And ur family cant u call someone to come pick him up?
dont think he can walk home if hes sleeping

Jack thought that was kind of obvious, but apparently not so much to Ginger. And yet, the instantaneous response he was waiting for didn’t come. Eret must’ve picked up on Jack’s nervousness, nudging him with his shoulder to pull his eyes off his phone where he’s reading and re-reading his text, wondering what he had said that would’ve pissed Merida off this time.
They weren’t exactly the best of friends, but he had thought they were beginning to understand one another, although sometimes there were still things that Jack said that would cause her to fly off the handle.

“What’s up?” Eret asks, trying to sound casual, but his voice betrays him to his concerns. “Something wrong?”
“Not really. I was hoping Mer could help me with Hiccup,” Jack says, nodding his head in the direction of the bench, where the rest of the football team had showed up for practice and were pissing about, burying Hic and Toothless with their coats. His cousins, Ruff and Tuff had decided to balance their bags on Hic’s back, whilst Snotlout watched on, supremely unamused.

“Is he okay?”
“Just exhausted. He had exams this morning and he’s been forgoing sleep for study time.” Jack wasn’t really paying attention, because his phone had buzzed and he didn’t have to worry about trying to figure out what had caused Mer’s silence.

Ginger:
Hic’s dad won’t pick him up
You’ll have to wake him

Then what about his mum?

There was another long, drawn out pause. The reoccurring dots to indicate Merida was typing appeared, disappeared, appeared again, over and over. Jack stared at his screen, and suddenly he’s slamming the keys before Mer can tell him what he suspects—

Ginger:
theres no one

Jack stared at his phone.
He wanted to ask. And he didn’t.
He wanted to know. And he didn’t.

Instead, he shot back a reply text to tell Merida that he’d make sure Hiccup got home as soon as practice was over.

---

Jack didn’t forget that he had left Hiccup on the bench, but there was a moment when he wondered where the boy had wandered off to, only to realise that he had simply been buried when the rest of the guys turned up to practice and left their bags on the bench, cocooning him in an array of rucksacks, satchels and coats.
Then, when Coach called half-time, Jack looked over and happened to see said boy was sat up, still huddled into the nest of bags of Toothless, who wasn’t ready to wake up just yet. Hic was rubbing his eyes and yawning, a slight shiver as he looked up at practice, trying to figure out where he was and remember as to why he’s sleeping outside.

“Oh my god,” Jack groaned, mostly to himself. Aster interrupted any chance of self-cursing, shunting his shoulder with his own. “Doesn’t matter that we lost that game mate. We’ll get the next one,” he grinned, but Jack just shook his head and gestured over to the bench. “I thought that he’d gone to the library,” he says in way of explanation, then noticing that Coach had pulled Eret and Snot in for a quick chat, took his chance and jogged over to the sidelines.

“What have I missed?” Hiccup asks when Jack gets close enough, his smile limp and small, but it’s an attempt to push through the lingering tiredness so Jack doesn’t worry. “Not much. Just the usual football shit.”
Besides, Jack is more focused on the idiot’s spectacular behead – mussed up on one side, and straightened out on the other, giving him a very lopsided look – rather than giving him a play-by-play of tonight’s practice match.

“I forgot where I was for a minute,” Hiccup says, and he stretches, the last few coats falling away, some onto Toothless who flicks his ears and harrumphs before dropping off the other side of the bench and stretching himself. Jack listens to him ramble, apologises thrown in intermittently, all of it sort of going over the boy’s head, because he can’t help the way his mind wanders.
It seemed the impromptu nap had done Hiccup some good. Even with bags under his eyes, his bed hair and his red nose, he looked far better than he did when he first wandered onto the pitch looking like he was sleep walking. At least now some of his colour had returned to his cheeks.

Hiccup grinned up at him. “Sorry, again. For falling asleep.”
“It’s okay. You were tired. If you hang on a minute, I’ll walk you home. Coach won’t mind if I skip the rest of practice.”
“Oh I won’t, will I?”

Jack spun on the ball of his heel, a near perfect one-eighty spin on his heel to land him face to face with Coach. The man was by no means an ill-tempered man, but there was something undeniably intimidating about the man scowling from Jack’s shoulder height.

He cast an eye between the two boys and the dog that was busy sniffing all of the coats, eyes hovering over Hiccup long enough to be noticeable. Then Coach broke into a mischievous grin and faced Jack. “The boys want another 6-a-side. Soon as you score a goal, you can bail. Or, another ten laps of the pitch.”
Jack returned the man’s grin, already picking his feet up to head back to where they boys were waiting. “Grab your coat Hiccup, this will only take ten minutes.”

---

“Cocky little shit,” Coach laughed under his breath. Hiccup released his own, realising that the man wasn’t angry, just pulling Jack’s leg. “You don’t think he’ll beat Macguffin,” he asks, gesturing to where Jack, Eret and Aster had already managed to get the ball to the other end of the pitch, running a similar play to what had won them the game on Sunday.
Only, when it was Eret’s turn to launch the ball into the net, Snot came up on his blindside and took the ball out from under him. Took Eret out too, and the pair of them tumbled to the turf while the twins passed the ball between them back down to mid-field.

“Frost is a damn good player, but he hardly ever takes the game seriously. Even Sunday’s match, he was more focused with showing off than usual,” Coach says, a slight edge to his words, but it doesn’t sound like annoyance. “I can’t really say anything because we won. But I also want to see what he’s like when he plays for real.”
Hiccup pulled himself up off the bench, Toothless by his side in an instant, coming to stand next to the Football Coach. Jack was running laps around his friends, even those that were on his team, wearing a shit-eating grin and teasing Aster into running the wrong direction, despite the fact they were meant to be working together.
Funnily enough, Hiccup also wanted to see Jack play seriously. He was cool now, gorgeous in his shorts and styled hair, and Hiccup wasn’t ashamed to admit he was curious what summer would entail with the heat and the beach and water fights.
Yeah, yeah, he was a horny teenage boy, so sue him.

“Frost won’t score for a while yet. If you’re cold, you can go warm up in the office. You can help yourself to a warm drink while you’re at it.”

Hiccup looked to Coach, blinking a little in confusion. The man laughed, not unkindly, gesturing to the way that he’s nuzzled his face into Jack’s scarf, having made the assumption that Hiccup was cold. Which, he was, but that wasn’t the sole reason for burying his face. He’s sure he’s blushing now, and he doubts that he can get away with blaming the weather.

“Go on, get!” Coach says, raising his voice and making shooing hands. “I’ll let Frost know where you are after he scores a goal. Now go on, before you freeze to death.
Toothless pricks his ears up, eyes narrowing, but when Hiccup laughs and begins walking, Toothless falls in time with him and returns to looking longingly at the football being kicked about on the pitch. Coach had offered an out as well as an invitation for feeling to return to his toes; Hiccup not being foolish enough to turn down the offer. He leaves his bag where he left it on the bench, skirting the pitch and slipping into the office, unnoticed by those engrossed in the match.

Despite Coach’s permission to help himself to a drink, Hiccup didn’t want to push his luck.
Coach’s office had a couch that was comfortable enough and the heating was a god send to Hiccup’s chilled body. He pulled off his coat, nuzzling again into the knitted scarf, and – before he could embarrass himself with his pining – whipped out his phone and settled himself for however long it would take for Jack to convince Coach to let him skip the remainder of practice.

His good mood hit a snag when his lock screen displayed him a list of texts and missed calls from Merida.

Mer:
Jack says u sick???

r u sick or is it dagur?

okies I belive jack that ur sleeping
text me when u wake up

also shit happened and I kind of told him about ur mom

Wait.
What?

Hiccup could feel his good mood vanishing, like it had been caught up in the cold and retreated to hibernate for the next fifty years. Toothless, who had been sniffing around, came to rest his head on the boy’s knees, a small whimper working its way from the back of his throat.
“I’m okay,” Hic said, one hand rubbing the top of his head absentmindedly as he unlocked the phone, not quite sure what he was feeling when he thumbed the screen, wondering if he was anger at Mer, or worried about what she had told Jack. Before he can figure it out, he’s calling Merida’s number. It doesn’t even ring three times before the line connects and Mer’s rushed voice fills the quiet of the office.

“Okay afair ye say anythin', aam sorry, alright? I know I should-nae have said anythin', but he wanted tae know if yer dad could come pick ye up ‘cus he said ye were asleep an' – I know, exams – but whit if it was Dagur, because that asshole has-nae left ye alone since—”
“Mer, hold off a second will you,” Hic said, rushing to shut her up, knowing that she’d ramble on for ages if he didn’t stop her. “I’m not… okay, yeah, I’m annoyed that you told him, but I’m not angry.”
“Ye sound angry.”
“I’m tired, Mer. I skipped out on sleep to study because I had an exam today, and now I’ve just woken up so…”

Toothless whimpered again, licking at Hiccup’s knee, thinking that maybe he was in pain. Not quite, but the affection was appreciated and Hiccup set Merida on loudspeaker so he could ruffle Toothless’s fur with both hands.
“Where are ye now? Did Jack drop ye off home?”
“No, I kind of fell asleep on the bench at football. Jack’s finishing up practice then we’re heading back to his.” Which was another reason that Hiccup hadn’t slept last night: on top of studying and cramming all necessary homework, Hiccup had been caught by his own delusions and a nervousness that wouldn’t let his sleep.
Sleepovers were things children did, and respective partners. Sure Mer and Astrid stayed over from time to time, but that was simply a continuation from childhood patterns and Hiccup was gay for fuck’s sake. With Jack it was…

Merida made some agitated noise on the other end of the line, but Hiccup cut through it before she could restart her rant. “I’m fine before you start worrying. And about… about the other stuff,” he says, letting his tiredness fill his voice in a second effort to convince her that he wasn’t feeling up to a pissing match about mothers and exs. “Can we catch up in the week? We’ll hit the coffee shop in town. It will be my treat.”
Silence on her end said that she was mulling it over. “Tomorrow. And nae later.”

Then the line went dead and Hiccup sighed, somehow feeling more tired than ever. He should’ve asked Merida exactly what she told Jack, but he didn’t have the energy to call her up again, or even send a text. Worst case scenario, Mer had told him the whole story. Worse still, she could’ve mentioned Dagur, but while Merida was an idiot sometimes, she wasn’t that much of an idiot.

Jack’s proposed ten minutes came and went, but it wasn’t until Hiccup got the feeling that he was falling asleep again – and honestly, he was tired, curled up in the sofa in a warm office with Toothless as his walking, barking space heater – that he decided he had spent enough time getting feelings back in my toes.

He slipped from the office, turning out the lights behind him, Toothless at his hip like always. Rather than grabbing his leash, Hiccup tucked it into his harness like he usually did when it was just the two of them, and the two set off, following the corridor back to the pitch where he could enjoy the rest of the match.

Hiccup wasn’t paying attention to much around him, fiddling with his headphones, because while he didn’t mind sitting back on the bench to watch the match, music always made time fly by faster and the less time Hiccup had sat in the cold, the better—

Something grabbed hold of the back of his hood, pulling him back, almost off balance.
Hiccup cried out in shock, his arms flailing in sudden panic, his noise cut off by a hand cupping his chin, his mouth, and a dark swell of laughter bubbling up beneath it all.
Toothless barked in parade to his own shock, turning back from where he was several paces out of reach, but at Hiccup’s rushed orders to stop, Toothless lay on the ground, a growl warming his throat.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” Dagur smiled, ignoring Hiccup’s instinctive reaction to punch him and the thousand curse words that rose up to disguise the bottomless pit that had opened up in his stomach. “Dagur, the fuck are you doing?”

“Me? What about you?”

Dagur leant in, the scent of his cigarettes strong enough that Hiccup wanted to choke. He tried taking a step back, but Dagur followed the movement, shoving Hiccup back until his shoulders slammed into the wall, jolting the bruise that was beginning to colour from when Dagur did the exact same thing to his garage wall last night. But if the fuck was here to proposition the same shit—

“No, no Dagur, get off,” Hiccup spat, trying to ignore the throbbing of his head where he hit it on the wall; trying to lift his hands to shove; trying to move his feet so that he could grab Toothless and run, but his right seemed to be stuck on something. Looking down told him why: Dagur was stood on his fucking prosthetic.

The asshole didn’t care about what Hiccup was saying. It was like he didn’t even hear him talking; his hands curling around Hiccup’s wrists, squeezing in silent threat as he moved closer, slipping a leg between Hiccup’s and knocking him off balance. He had to lean against Dagur to stop himself from hitting his head on the wall again, but Hiccup knew which option he preferred as the taller pressed them closer.

“Don’t think that you can hide behind your football friends,” Dagur says beneath the curl of a smile, but it’s not a kind smile and Hiccup remembered the last time Dagur had spoken to him whilst wearing that expression. The bruises had remained for weeks.

“They’re my friends—”
“You don’t need friends,” Dagur spat, a hand coming up to cup Hiccup’s chin.
Toothless growled low, enough to be heard, but Dagur didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead he suckles lightly on the space beneath Hiccup’s ear, whispering. “Keep him back. You know the second that he attacks someone, the police will have him terminated.”
“He would never—”
“It would be my word against yours,” Dagur hummed, his voice syrupy, as if he isn’t making threats to have Toothless killed in the middle of trying to make-out.

“So what will it be? You going to make him chase me off, or shall we have a nice… long… chat?”
He pressed kisses to the boy’s neck between every word, smiling into them when Hiccup shuddered beneath his touch.

The boy stared at the ceiling, willing his tears not to fall as he commanded Toothless to back off. The words caught in his throat, much to Dagur’s amusement, but at least his bud didn’t make any more noise. Hiccup could put up with Dagur’s shit as long as Toothless was safe. As long as no one else knew what crap the other pulled, he could deal with this.
He would find a way to deal with this.

“Good boy,” Dagur crooned. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes.”
He moved his hands from Hiccup’s wrists, one hand coming up to Hic’s throat, the other slipping underneath the hem of his coat, trailing along his clothes to outline his hips. He was still stood on Hic’s prosthetic, trapping him, but there was no more fight from the younger; his own hands bunched up in Dagur’s jacket rather than around his neck.
Toothless whimpered, but he didn’t move from where he lay.

“Dagur—”
“Sssh,” the boy hummed, leaning up to claim Hiccup’s lips. When Hic turned away, Dagur pressed his thumb against his neck, not hard enough to hurt, but enough of a warning that the boy relinquished his mouth. After a moment, Dagur squeezed again, and Hiccup kissed back, ignoring the wet on his cheeks and the sick in his stomach.

Two months of college and he had been having infrequent run-ins with Dagur, but it wasn’t until this week that he had been trying to lead them back into what their relationship used to be. It didn’t matter how many times he said no; Dagur just kept on coming back with a new threat or another fist and a sloppy moment behind whatever wall he had dragged them behind.

Hiccup might be pressed up against a wall now, but it was in a well-lit corridor, one door away from the locked room and another from the football pitch. Coach said that he’d send Jack in when he deemed he had played enough of the second practice match, and while Hiccup didn’t want to give Dagur any reason to hit him, neither did he want Jack to burst in here and learn of their relationship while Dagur’s tongue was down his throat.

“Dagur—”
“Sssh,” Dagur says in response, his thumb still dangerously close to Hiccup’s neck. But the fear of being found outweighs the fear of the boy’s threats.
“Not here,” he begs, turning his head, unable to help himself glancing down the corridor, trying not to think about what expression Jack might make if he saw him like this. Would he be angry? Would he be disgusted?

Hic tried to pull away once more, but Dagur grabbed hold of his wrist, fingers digging into the still-sore flesh as he pushed his body into the brunets to keep him pinned against the wall. Hiccup swallowed any noise of pain. “Please, Dagur, not here. I don’t want—”
“Don’t want your friends to find you?” he hummed, moving his lips to Hiccup’s jaw where his face is turned.

They were close to the doors. If anyone came into the building, they would see them for sure. But they were too far away to hear him if he yelled, but it wasn’t like Hiccup had the courage to yell. What could he say? What could he do?
“No one’s coming to save you,” Dagur grins, his words dripping with poison as he pulls back, eyes hardened, alight with ill-amusement as he presses his fingers into Hiccup’s wrist, lifts his knee to stroke the inside of the boy’s thigh, watching new tears trace down his cheeks. “You might have made some new friends, but that’s only because they don’t know the truth about you. They’ll stop being you friend when they find out how much of a whore you are—”
“No—”

Dagur’s eyes flashed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe they think you’re worth something and stick around.” He runs a tongue along his teeth, eyes flicking down to Hiccup’s lips and up again. “But you already know what happens to people that stand up for you, don’t you? What was her name again?”
Hiccup’s stomach rolled at the memory. Sure, Hiccup had faced worse, but all Mei-Lin had tried to stand up for him and she was the one that Dagur knocked around. He had knocked Hiccup around too, afterwards; laying his fists into him as he had done a thousand times.
After seeing Mei bleeding, and knowing it was his fault, Hiccup was determined not to let anyone else face the same.

“Don’t…”
“Don’t what?”

Dagur was enjoying this.
The fucking bastard was enjoying this.

“Don’t hurt him Dagur! He’s just someone I talk to, he’s not—you don’t need to—”

The bastard was smiling at him, his face pressed close enough that Hiccup could taste his cigarettes. “Please, leave Jack out of this.”
He was fighting now, trying to pull his wrists out of the boy’s grasp, trying to get his foot out from underneath his heel.
Toothless was standing up now, but he hadn’t taken a step from where Hiccup had ordered him to heel, only growling low, but beneath Hiccup’s noise, Dagur couldn’t hear him.

“So this ‘no one important’ has a name. Jack was it?”
His eyes flickered darkly. “Maybe I should tell this Jack—”
“No! You can’t Dagur, you can’t—”

Movement flickered out the corner of Hiccup’s eye, head snapping to the door as it swung open. His eyes widened at the sight of the boy on the other side, the way their eyes met through the glass door; the way his eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment. Then anger, when he recognised the pair in the sports corridor. It didn’t take a genius to understand what was going on, what with Hiccup’s tears or Dagur’s shouting, anger swelling within his voice.

“What did you say?” he snarled, the hand that had been clasping Hiccup’s chin grabbing it roughly, forcing him face forward. “What do you mean, I can’t?” he growled, grabbing a hold of Hiccup’s hair, yanking his head backwards, hard enough that he slammed into the wall again.

“Dagur, please—”
“I can do whatever the hell I like, and you don’t get to say a damn thing about it unless you want your precious Jack to know exactly what kind of slut you are.” He lifted his leg higher, pressing close to Hiccup’s groin, the fingers in his hair curling tighter.
Hiccup gasped for air. He didn’t want anyone seeing this. He didn’t want anyone to see him and Dagur like this, wanting to cry out – not to Dagur, but to the boy barging through the doors, his arm reeling back, ready to swing, to connect his fist with Dagur’s skull.

With the entirety of Snotlout’s weight behind it, Dagur was nearly knocked clean off his feet.
He fell to the floor, almost hitting his head just as Snot grabbed a hold of Hiccup and forced him to stand behind him as he coughed and retched, trying to catch his breath. It wasn’t like Dagur had meant to choke him, but he hadn’t been able to breathe—

“Leave him alone you bastard. Next time I see you messing with him, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll be shitting teeth for a week!” Without giving Dagur time to get up on his feet, Snot was marching back out the door, a hand dragging Hiccup out into the cool night of the autumn evening.
“Toothless. Come.” He held the door open long enough for the dog to slip through – quick to follow Snot’s command – making sure it was shut and that they were both outside before he let Hiccup go, hand hesitating in case he stumbled.

The stopped for a moment, far enough from the pitch that they weren’t seen, waiting for Hiccup to catch his breath and dry his eyes. “You okay?”
“Y-yes, I’m alright now,” Hiccup stuttered, still a little shocked at how quickly everything had happened, dropping to crouch so that he could wrap his arms around Toothless’s neck, whispering to him and trying not to freak out. He could see Snot was shaking, continually glancing back towards the building like he was fighting with the urge to back and pummel Dagur into the ground.

“Don’t tell me you’re still dating that piece of shit,” Snotlout growled. He didn’t have pockets to shove his fists into, so settled on crossing his arms and glaring at Hiccup. “I don’t know if you forgot, but he used to beat you up back then too. I just never thought…” He trails off, his eyes scanning Hiccup’s neck.

“I’m not… with him. He just wanted…” But Hiccup didn’t need to explain.
Snotlout… knew, to some extent. He didn’t know the entire situation, but he certainly knew more than Merida and Astrid, having saved Hiccup on more than one occasion, from being harassed in the toilets, to the out fields when everyone was meant to be in lessons, except Snot and his friends had been smoking off campus.
Astrid and Merida knew that Dagur hit him. They just didn’t know that he and Hiccup used to have sex on the odd occasion. Snotlout did.

“What the fuck were you doing with him?” Snotlout growled, unable to keep his temper completely. “I thought he left town. Heard he got picked up for drugs and was in juvie or something.”
“I was told that he was working. Skipped college and straight into the workforce, but he’s here and it doesn’t seem like he’s going away,” Hic sighed.

“Why was he there?”
“I don’t know, He must’ve seen me head in and followed me. He shouldn’t even be here, he—”

“Oi toothpick!”

Hiccup and Snot spun around, Snot’s hands curling into fists, but Dagur was no way near enough to punch. “Don’t think this is over!”
Snot stepped in front of him, raising a finger. “Try it, fuck stain. I told you I’d beat your ass and I’m not joking about that.” Then he turned, grabbed Hiccup by the arm to haul him to his feet and marched him back towards the pitch, grinding his teeth as he walked.

“Snot—”
“Shut it,” the boy hissed, his voice icy. “Snot—”
“I said shut it, Hiccup. I want to punch something so you better not—”
“You’re hurting me,” Hiccup said softly, laying a hand over Snotlout’s where he has a death-grip on the boy’s arm.

“Sorry,” Snotlout grumbled, feet stumbling to a stop. He lets himself glance back to the doors, but Dagur is nowhere to be seen. The pair of them took a deep breath, Hiccup sighing his out in forced laughter, one hand coming up to touch his neck. The cold was getting to him, and it made his throat hurt.
“That’s going to bruise. You better cover that up,” he says, fiddling with the borrowed scarf to hide the red marks from where Dagur’s grip had been too tight and he had left marks on Hiccup’s skin.

“And tell me if comes back. I’ll get the boys and we’ll scare him up a bit. He’ll leave you alone for good.”
The offer was tempting, and it certainly would be satisfying to see Dagur get a taste of his own medicine, but Hiccup didn’t want to know what lengths he would go to for the sake of revenge.

“I’ll keep it in mind, okay? Just don’t antagonise him. He’s got mates of his own and he’s not scared of you.” Snot crossed his arms. “I ain’t scared of him neither.”
“I know, I know. And again, Snot. Thanks. Or… am I meant to be calling you ‘Sammy’ now?”
Snotlout gave him all of three seconds before he pounded him on the arm. “Fuck you, you little shit. You know you can change your name too, so you’re not stuck with that stupid name your parents gave you,” he said, grumbling.
Snot had never been bullied for his name, mainly because he was the biggest bully on the playground, but he had always been conscious of it, just as Hiccup was aware of his own name. It was something they had in common and a crux in their tumultuous friendship.

“Sammy?”
“What?”
“I mean it. Thank you.”

He couldn’t help but smile when Snotlout’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “Fuck you, asshole!” he threw another punch before storming off, scrubbing at his face as if that would wash away his blush.
“You’re my hero,” Hiccup called after him.
“Fuck you!”

Hiccup just laughed, Toothless at his hip as he followed Snotlout back to the pitch, where the six-a-side was still playing.

Notes:

[CONTENT FOREWARNING: This chapter contains non-consensual kissing and abusive behaviour.]
Dagur corners Hiccup and forcibly kisses him, touches him and threatens him with physical violence.

Chapter 16: Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

Jack, Hiccup and Toothless left shortly after the pair returned to the pitch, where Jack had pulled on his clothes over the top of his football uniform, rather than doing the decidedly smart thing of using the changing rooms to… change.
Coach had had his back turned long enough, maybe thinking that Jack was gathering their bags or something, so it had been amusing to see him turn around just as Hic and Sammy returned to the pitch, and half-heartedly yell at Jack for his antics.

“Do you enjoy deliberately winding up adults, or is it a trait you were born with?” Hiccup asks as the three of them follow the pavement heading towards Jack’s house.
“Born with it? Please, ” Jack grinned, hopping a step ahead to turn back to face Hiccup, walking backwards, not bothering to worry about uneven footing. “I work very hard at being an asshole. Please don’t disregard my efforts for something as mundane as an innate,” he grins, poking his tongue out.
If he was close enough, Hiccup might’ve hit him.

As they walked, Jack talked of practice and college and all the things they could get up to over the half-term. A full week of no college, and Hiccup had no worries of homework to finish off, although maybe a little bit of studying for an exam in November, but as Jack said, that was weeks away and a problem for future-Hiccup. Present-Hiccup only had to worry about enjoying his time off.
“Idiot,” he grinned in response, as Jack danced back and forth with Toothless, still walking backwards and wearing a smile as bright as the sun, as if he had just won a football match all by himself.
Hiccup, far too familiar with his mischievous humour, is understandably wary. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was he was walking into.

Hiccup had his own preconceived fantasies of what their autumn break would entail, none of which he was expecting to happen because most of it involved the pair of them laid out underneath the stars smoking cigarettes or drinking confiscated alcohol and talking about nothing and everything; before eventually deciding that they were going to confess their mutual feelings for one another, which would lead to a very sweet, romantic make-out session.

“Oh yeah, did Coach manage to catch you before we left?” Jack asks unexpectedly, yanking Hiccup from his train of thought, and it’s the realisation of what he had imagining that had him blushing. Luckily enough for him it was winter, which meant it got dark early and lampposts had an odd habit of making everything look off underneath their orange glow, leaving Jack none the wiser.
“Wait, say that again, I was zoning out,” Hic admits, giving himself another mental kick. “Coach,” Jack repeated. “He mentioned something about wanting to talk to you, but I might have distracted him when I got dressed.”
“Deliberately?” Hiccup grinned, but Jack was serious, turning back to fall in time with the brunette, hands in his pockets.

“No, it wasn’t like he had anything bad to say. I think he wanted to ask you something. That’s the impression I got, at least, although I have absolutely no clue what it might be about. I’m pretty sure he’s aware of why you have Toothless—all of the teachers should be—so I don’t think he was going to ask if you wanted to join in with practice.”
“That’s a shame. I was hoping to blow everyone away with my innate football skills, but alas,” Hiccup grinned, bumping arms with Jack as they walked. “We’re all blessed that you’ve got Toothless holding you back,” Jack nods, playing along. “We’d be no match for you.”
“And don’t you forget it.”

They held one another’s gaze for the space of a breath before letting everything out in messy laughter, Hiccup snorting and giggling and hoping that the entire week was going to be this carefree.
He was pointedly ignoring the elephant that followed along behind them.

To anyone that knew the truth, it might be hard to understand how easily Hiccup could forget, or ignore what had transpired between him and Dagur; all of it as simple as flicking a switch. The truth was that, it had been going on for so long, that Hiccup just kind of got used to it. The only difference this time was that he was fighting back rather than simply avoiding the bastard, because enough was enough and he wanted control of his own life again.
He wanted nothing more than just to hang out with his friend and be a normal pining teenager for one weekend at least.

So Hiccup chased Jack and Toothless down the pavement and they took a “shortcut” through the reserve, even though it was sometimes pitch black in the deeper parts of the forest. They used their phones to light the way, but kept getting scared by Toothless as he bounded through the depths, only to charge them from the shadows with a stick or a branch or an entire tree dragging along behind him.
At one point, Hic tripped on something—a root, a stone, or maybe his own damn foot—and he felt himself stumbling only to be saved by Jack, who had much better balance on two legs, laughing at him, calling him a klutz and an idiot and a thousand other words before he slipped his hand into Hiccup’s and pulled him along, voice soft when he says, “just until we get back to the road. Knowing your luck, you’ll trip and break an arm.”
Hiccup didn’t fight it, and was content to indulge in this unexpected gift for as long as it would last.

The quiet drew in around them once more, but neither felt particularly obliged to break it. Holding hands meant that they were a lot closer to one another, their pace slowed, with the occasional brush of their shoulders sending electricity through Hiccup’s body. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he rested his head on Jack’s shoulder; if he wrapped his arm around Jack’s and leant against him as they walked; what if he traced shapes on the back of Jack’s hand, and letters, spelling out words and shapes while Jack tried to guess what they were.

Too soon, they reached the edge of the forest, the three of them spilling onto the narrow sidewalk, Hiccup scooping up Toothless’s leash and waiting for Jack to pull his hand back. But he didn’t, and Hiccup, wanting, didn’t bring attention to it. He was grinning, ear to ear, watching the pavement as he walked, his chin brushing against Jack’s borrowed scarf and everything was all so perfect and Hiccup was grateful that neither of them had thought of catching the bus because if they had, they wouldn’t have taken the shortcut through the forest and Hiccup certainly wouldn’t be feeling like he was dancing on cloud nine right about now.

Jack walked with his head up, looking up at the night sky. It was cloudless and he could see the stars and moon, searching for a shooting star and Hiccup couldn’t help but laugh when he pointed out a satellite, because, “that’s close enough, right?”
“Close enough. Although I don’t think you get a wish with satellites.”

They drift into silence one more, with Jack staring at the sky and Hiccup watching his feet, because he doesn’t want to trip or stumble. As they near busier roads, Toothless steps into time with Hiccup, letting him hold onto his leash, where he hooks it around his wrist and shoves his hand into his pocket, because the night air was a little cold.
His other hand was fine, what with Jack keeping it warm and Hiccup got another burst of happiness shoot through him, setting his fingers prickling because it really did feel like he had been jolted by lightning.

But the universe has long since decided that Hiccup doesn’t deserve nice things and this right here has been enjoyed long enough, before Jack takes a deep breath and, indirectly, invites the elephant to join them on the pavement. It has a different name to the one following them from before, but it’s an elephant all the same and the pavement is too narrow for all four of them.

“I talked with Merida tonight.”

Ah.

Hiccup wondered when they were going to talk about that.
He looked over to where the taller was biting his lip, eyes deliberately focused on the path ahead of them. Hiccup certainly didn’t miss the way his eyebrows pinched when he pulled his hand from Jack’s, the feeling of lightning beneath his fingertips vanishing into the cold as he buries them into his pockets. Jack copies him, holding the silence and leaving Hiccup to delegate the direction of their conversation.

And it wasn’t that Hiccup didn’t want Jack to know, or that it was a particularly hard conversation to discuss, it was just a dampener on any kind of mood and Hiccup didn’t like the trigger-response apologies that he would get. And maybe it’s this irritation that prickles his voice and he’s so blasé when he says, “yeah, Mer told you Mums dead.”

“She didn’t say that.”
At least it wasn’t a trigger-response.

Hiccup shrugs nonchalantly, feeling Toothless bump into him deliberately, in question to his feelings. Hic distracted him, and himself, by scratching behind his ears. He feels somewhat at fault for the awkwardness the makes the wind colder and a stuffiness in his chest, and this time he’s the one taking a deep breath and sighing it all out.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just, she died years ago. I don’t have any memories of her, so it’s not like I’m suddenly overtaken by emotion when people start talking about someone I don’t know, and then when everyone goes and pities me when they find it out, everything feels fake and like I don’t deserve it because—.” He cuts himself off.
The other reason that Hiccup is so cautious as to who knows about his story is because of the reason why she died. And yes, okay, dirty needle, weak immune system, not his fault. But Hiccup’s own birth had been the root cause, he knows this. The labour was classified as traumatic, and him and his premature state had needed emergency intervention blah blah blah, but it was the lingering defects that had a detrimental effect on Valka, meaning that when the illness took root inside of her, she had little fight left within her.

“She went into hospital, and I came out of it,” Hiccup says, rolling his shoulders, pulling his hands out of his pockets to wrap around himself. It wasn’t really that cold, but he felt it like a noose around his throat. “Guess I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want you to look at me like everyone else does when they find out,” he says, part in apology, part in explanation.
Jack nods, but Hiccup can’t see it, too busy staring at his feet. “I guess I understand that.

“I mean,” he says quickly, hands waving in front of his face, “I might have a little more understanding, because it’s just the three of us two—me, Punzie and my dad, I mean—” and his voice is quick and rushed and maybe even a little panicked. “Mine fucked off. You’re didn’t choose to, and maybe at least you know that she would’ve loved you if she was still here.”
He gives a sort of wince, then drops his head. “Sorry. This sounds like I’m trying to make it about me.” But it really didn’t, and Hiccup can see Jack is trying to comfort him, but it’s such an awkward, not-their-usual-banter and they’re both trying not to say the wrong thing.

“At least we’re half way to being batman,” he says casually—something Merida used to tell him all the time, and often it was stupid enough to cheer him up. It works for Jack too, turning around to grin at him. “Not enough angst for our origin stories though. We’ll have to put a bit more effort in.”
“Meh,” Hic shrugs. “Killing my dad would require effort. Besides, I wouldn’t be a decent superhero anyway. I’ve only got one leg.”
“So? The Winter Soldier only has one arm.”
“One real arm,” Hiccup reminded him, before diving into a long-winded explanation about the disadvantages of bio-tech while Jack kept going on about the unlimited possibilities of fake limbs and how they’d aid Hiccup in his endeavour to become a superhero.
Neither of them noticed when they had joined hands again, and neither of them particularly cared.

---

It’s midnight by the time they reach the finale of the sixth season of Dead Walkers, the tv paused on the opening credits while they spitball theories as to who everything is going to play out.
Or, well, Hiccup was spitballing. Jack has already seen the sixth season finale, seventh and eight too. He hasn’t watched anymore of the ninth, even as it plays a new episode weekly on the tv, because he wants to watch it alongside Hiccup and maybe a few of the other guys that are also as hooked by the glory, guts and gore as they are.

Jack snags one of the last slices of pizza, leant back on his bed as he watches Hiccup talk excitedly, hands moving as he goes in depth with his theories that Jack hums and hahs to, rather than giving any real answer.
It is slight in part due to the fact that he’s not really listening, and in part to the fact that he doesn’t want to spoil, knowing that the new characters that have just been introduced are about to throw a spanner in the works and plot-twist the show to hurtle down a completely different track to what everyone was expecting, which, ballsy move by the writers, but it worked and Jack couldn’t wait until they finally un-paused the tv and Hiccup got to see the peril his favourite characters faced.

Hiccup isn’t aware that Jack is watching him, not really listening when they are both absorbed by the boy’s excitement although for two separate reasons. Jack has noticed that Hiccup likes to talk with his hands. He doesn’t do it often, not like he is in college where he’s calm and slow and gives thought to his words before he speaks them.
And yet, here, in the privacy of two, Hiccup talks with his body as much as his words. His hands flail, his body animated and he’s relaxed, Jack realises belatedly. He’s relaxed here, enough that he doesn’t hold himself back, doesn’t fear what Jack will think, or say, and he trusts him.

Hiccup is relaxed and he’s himself and he’s so fucking cute and Jack wants this all the time; he wants all of Hiccup’s attention, all of his affections, he just wants to kiss him—

“You’re not even listening, are you?”

Hiccup’s hands have halted, and it takes a second too long for the words to register, what with Jack’s head leant on his bed, smiling. The smile turns sheepish. “No. Not really.”

Hiccup’s own smile falls fell flat, purposefully so, and he looks just as cute with pouting lips as he does with his blushing cheeks and cold-touched nose. Jack played his puppy dog eyes. “You can’t blame me Hic, if not I’ll spoil the story and that’s not fun for anyone.”
“Alright, I’ll give you that.”

Before they press play, Jack makes the executive decision to migrate to the bed, Hiccup joining him with the kidnapped penguin plushie that he wraps his arms around and hides behind when the show gets too scary for him, (“I do not!”).

Of course the plot twists play out, and Jack has just-as entertaining time watching Hiccup’s expressions as he does re-watching the finale, which introduces some sorely-missed humour from Jack’s favourite characters that do a ‘we’re not dead’ reveal and there’s a classic romantic kiss-before-we-die-but-we’re-not-actually-going-to-die trope and Jack can’t help himself from making a joke about being jealous of Eva—the female character—because she gets to kiss Jaeger, who looks absolutely ravishing in his zombie-killing attire, but looks twice as hot when he’s on the red carpet.
And then, suddenly, it hits him what he’s said and he wants to back-peddle, but the words get caught in his throat and he’s aware of the way Hiccup’s eyes are burning into the side of his face.

He tries diverting.

“So, uh, which character do you like?”

The wince in his voice is palpable, and Jack is content to stare at the tv until it blinds him, wishing he had some supernatural power that would command the floor to swallow him, or maybe the bed, or maybe he could get kidnapped by ninjas and be taken to some remote island where he would live out his days and never ben seen a—

“Jaeger.”

Jack’s head snapped around so fucking fast he nearly dislocated him. Hiccup was giving him a shit-eating grin, eyes twinkling mischievously. “If you’re nice, we can share.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Notes:

My bad guys, I've lost motivation for this story atm. Going to have to put a hold on it for a while until I can figure out where it's trying to. Bare with me xx

Notes:

If you're inspired to create anything based on this story, be it art, writing, anything at all, I say go for it!
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Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of All My ROTBTD Works