WARNING: There are several homosexual pairings in this fanfiction. I have a very harsh and rude sense of humor at times. That will not change. I am always open to constructive criticism about my writing but outright insulting me and telling me that you're offended will not be acknowledged. Concerning the character of Fiske (aka that nameless kid from the cinematic trailer for the game Overwatch) was inspired by waking-up-tomorrow-morning's character of Ari and the general acceptance of him being the Hijack lovechild among the Tumblr community. waking-up-tomorrow-morning is a really awesome person and I urge you to check out his/her blog on Tumblr. I leave you with this kiddie winkles: constructive criticism or a simple hello is always welcome. I do not feast upon my own kind and I love talking to people.
Overwatch trailer: watch?v=FqnKB22pOC0
waking-up-tomorrow-morning:
I do not own:
Hiccup, Jack Frost, and Toothless © DreamWorks
Overwatch Kid © Blizzard
Tadashi, Hiro, Aunt Cass, Baymax, and Mochi © Disney
Chapter 1
Fiske's Point of View
Ugh. Mornings. There has got to be a better way to start my morning than by waking up. And there has got to be something better to wake up to than an obnoxious alarm clock. My name is Fiske Haddock Frost. I know. Ridiculous name. My mother (who's actually a guy) has a long ancestry of Viking in his blood. It's always nice to know my family is world-renowned for pillaging and destroying things.
Anyway, I have a strong Viking name that everyone at school makes fun of me for. Fantastic. It was fine when we were living in a small town but since we've moved to the city of San Fransokyo a lot of things have changed. The kids at school are a lot meaner and more judgmental, and Toothless, my mother's pet dragon, can't go out nearly as much anymore. He's always antsy and fidgety, even after my mother takes him out for his daily flight and repeated dirty looks from both of my parents. My mother is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, and my father is Jack Overland Frost, the spirit of winter. Mixed heritage doesn't even begin to describe it.
Since you're still here do you want to hear a story? No? Too bad. I'm going to tell you one anyways. This story is called "That Time Fiske Really Fucked Up". Alternatively it could be called "God Damn It Fiske", because that phrase was on everyone's lips for a long time after the incident. Let me start from the beginning before that day.
I woke up like any other day. The sun was shining and everything was right with the world. I was going about my usual business and then decided to actually venture outside. The day was going remarkably well, until I met that sassy piece of shit, Hiro Hamada. We were both fifteen and happened to be in the same comic book store at the same time looking for the same thing. Guardians of the Galaxy: Tomorrow's Avengers Vol. 1. There was only one left. Naturally.
We walked in about the same time and somehow sensed that the other was seeking the same prize. It must have looked ridiculous. Both of us dove for it and ended up grabbing opposite ends of the damn thing.
"I saw it first," I said glaring at him.
"You did not!" Hiro retorted, mirroring my glare back at me.
I felt kind of childish and he probably did too, but comic books are serious business. I was not about to let him walk away with this one.
After a full minute of glaring each other down, he finally spoke.
"Biggest nerd gets to keep it?" Hiro asked.
"Sounds fair enough," I answered.
We started asking each other ridiculous questions about every superhero we could think of. I was doing pretty well until he asked me one of the simplest questions that I hate myself for not knowing the answer to.
"What is Green Lantern's name in the 2001 Justice League cartoon?" Hiro asked.
"Hal Jordan," I answered, then mentally slapped myself repeatedly for my boneheaded mistake.
"John Stewart," He said grinning.
Now I was flustered for having made such a silly mistake, and by how adorable his tooth gap is. Come to think of it, he is pretty god damn attractive.
I reluctantly let go of the book, heat flooding into my cheeks. I could feel a tingling sensation begin to engulf my face. Jesus how red am I right now?
Hiro smiled, "Thanks for the Nerd-Off ummm…"
"Fiske. My name is Fiske," I stated.
Hiro snickered, "Are you the owner of a cat food company?"
"No! I am not!" I said, offended and a little butt hurt, "It's a Viking name, I'll have you know."
"Well Fiske the Viking, my name is Hiro Hamada. And it was nice meeting you," Hiro said, flashing that stupid, adorkable grin of his.
"Er, nice to meet you too," I replied sheepishly. Why is it so hard to be socially acceptable?
"I'll see you around Frisky's," Hiro said. Then he sauntered away to purchase his prize, leaving me to fume over his name slaughtering. God damn it I told him I was NOT the owner of a cat food company, nor did I have any connection to one.
After we had parted ways I knew that I had to see him again. At least once. Messy, wild black hair, warm, russet eyes, stupid dimples when he smiles, smooth, flawless skin, not particularly muscular but still has a good build. He makes 'I just rolled out of bed and waltzed out the door' look drop dead gorgeous.
I fiddled with the pull strings on my sweatshirt as I ambled home past a slew of colorful Victorian style houses. How was I going to find him? Creep around the same comic book store and wait until he shows up to steal another of my future purchases? It's not exactly the best plan but it's the only one I've got.
After about a week of creeping and lurking, I finally saw him again. I was mindlessly looking through a box of Spider-Man comics, acquiring two paper cuts from the cardboard dividers like the cool kid I was destined to be, when the little shit sauntered right up to me and greeted me in the most embarrassing way possible.
"Hey Frisky's. How's your big cat food company doing? I'm sure you're so successful with it by now you're considered a fat cat," Hiro said teasingly.
My face never turned a more beet red before in my life. I couldn't even find words to retort back with.
"What's the matter Frisky's? Cat got your tongue?" Hiro asked.
"Will you quit it!?" I said, smacking his arm a little harder than I originally intended.
Hiro wasn't phased in the least, "Don't like cat jokes?"
"Not when it's making fun of my name!" I replied.
"I'm sorry, Fiske was it?" Hiro asked.
I nodded, still giving him a bit of the stink eye.
"Let me buy you a donut. No hard feelings?" He asked.
I started to open my mouth to say yes then I hesitated. He's done nothing but steal my comic books and make fun of my name. He's a turd. On the other hand an attractive guy wants to buy me a donut. Does life get any better than that? Whether he's a turd or not?
"Sure Tooth Gap. As long as you buy me two donuts. I'm a bit of a fatty," I said, mouth already beginning to water at the thought of shoving circles of delicious in my face and not having a single regret about it.
"Done. Just let me spend a good portion of my paycheck and I'll be right with you," Hiro said, grabbing several Daredevil comic books and then meandering towards the counter to pay for them.
My face had lightened several shades by now but my heart started going at full tilt. I would have to actually be social and not make a fool out of myself long enough to get through attaining donuts with this guy. Good lord. Why does life test me so? Before I knew it Hiro had returned with a bag of comics.
"You ready to go, nerd?" Hiro asked.
"Whenever you are, Tooth Gap," I playfully shot back.
We sauntered down to the donut shop… and passed right by it. Even I know what a donut shop looks like. Where the hell did this kid think he was going?
"Do you need glasses and braces? The donuts are over there," I said, pointing across the street.
"Those donuts are inferior to the ones I'm going to get you," Hiro answered back.
"So now you're a donut bigot?" I asked.
"Always have been. Always will be," Hiro smiled.
We walked a few more blocks before Hiro led me into a place called The Lucky Cat Café. It was on a busy street corner in a part of town that I had never been to before. It somehow had the look of a modern Victorian Japanese tea shop, if that's possible. There was also a white cat statue above the door. Was it inherently lucky? I couldn't tell you.
We walked in past some obnoxious green plaid curtains that were attempting to stray from the window and consume incoming customers, and then he asked me which donuts I wanted. I pointed to a gorgeous looking raised glazed and a captivating old fashioned chocolate. What Hiro did next was more than a little strange to me. He stepped right through the small swinging door to the area behind the counter, reached in, and took them.
"Holy shit! You're a donut burglar now!?" I asked.
"Relax. My aunt owns this place and I get donuts for free. Sheesh, it looks like you're going to have an aneurism any moment," He said, grabbing two donuts for himself.
"I didn't know! To me it looked like you were commandeering the donut shop," I retorted, "Society has rules about that kind of stuff you know."
Before Hiro could formulate a sassy comeback, a short woman with olive colored eyes, and short, wavy brown hair flounced into the room. She embraced Hiro and very nearly squeezed the life out of him.
"Hiro you're back!" The woman said, "And you've brought home a friend!"
"Hi, Aunt Cass," Hiro said, "This is my friend, Fiske."
Aunt Cass then proceeded to squeeze the life out of me.
"It's nice to meet you," I managed to choke out.
"It's nice to meet you too Fiske. It's not often that we have company, and we would love it if you would stay for dinner tonight. I'm making hot wings!" Aunt Cass said cheerfully.
I smiled, "That sounds really nice. Thanks."
Hiro started making his way towards the stairs at the far end of the café, "We'll be upstairs if you need anything Aunt Cass. Hurry up, Frisky's. Let's go."
I followed my new companion upstairs to what I assumed was his shared bedroom. On one half there was a mess and on the other was OCD Wonderland. There was also two beds on either side of the room. Hiro must have a brother or something. Whoever else lived here they were really into alphabetizing. Books, music CDs, movies, you name it. It was all perfectly aligned in alphabetical order on the shelves.
Hiro made his way through a gargantuan mess on his side of the room to his bed and I followed suit. There were lots of posters of robots and superheroes all over the otherwise barren walls. There was also about four shelves of action figures on the wall to the left of the bed. I had just entered the lair of a really big nerd. We began having a glorious donut picnic on his ridiculously soft blue striped comforter.
"So you live with your Aunt?" I asked through a mouthful of glazed amazingness.
"Yeah, my parents died when I was three years old. What about you? Who do you live with?" Hiro asked.
I paused for a moment to process that information. The poor thing. He probably didn't remember very much about his parents. I didn't realize I had a crush on Batman's Asian successor.
"Uh, I live with my parents," I said, suddenly feeling guilty for having both of mine.
"What are they like?" Hiro asked, "If you don't mind me being nosy."
"I don't mind at all. My mother is the best dragon rider and trainer you'll ever see. He's got a beautiful Night Fury named Toothless. Though I think Toothless just tolerates my dad and me. He's always following my mom around pestering for attention, fish and to go outside. My dad is a professional piece of shit. He's the one who brings snow in winter. I can't tell you how many times I've rounded a corner and gotten hit with a snowball," I explained.
Hiro was staring at me with a blank look on his face. Then I realized just how far fetched what I just said was and that he probably thinks I'm mentally handicapped.
"I'm telling the truth! You'd have to meet them to believe it though," I added quickly.
"Uh huh. Well, Frisky's you want to play some video games or do you not have those in the distant land that you come from?" Hiro asked.
"Of course I have video games where I come from," I said, frowning at him.
"Just making sure, dude," Hiro replied.
As Hiro turned on his Xbox and started rummaging around for controllers in his mountainous pile of clothing he had so gracefully thrown on the floor, I felt a small circle of pressure in my lower back. I turned around, startled. A humongous ball of multicolored fluff smashed its head into my hand.
"You didn't tell me you had a cat!" I said, coaxing the feline into my lap and massaging his silky ears.
"He's not a cat," Hiro replied simply, "He's a turd. I panic one time and he tries to make my life hell for months afterward."
"What did you do to the poor thing?" I asked, completely entranced by how soft this cat truly was. I had to restrain myself from shoving my face into the waves of velvety fur.
"I… may or may not have thrown him," Hiro said sheepishly, "But I will neither admit nor deny it."
"Jesus Hiro! You're a cat abuser?" I gasped.
"Calm yourself. He's gotten over it. Jeez, you really care about your customers don't you, Frisky's," Hiro said tauntingly.
"Can it, Dental Work," I huffed as he handed me a controller, "So what's his name?"
"Mochi," Hiro said, "He also responds to Hairy Baby."
"Aw, that's adorable," I said smiling, "Is he a Calico?"
"Nope, Japanese Bobtail," Hiro replied.
"Should have guessed that the cat is as Asian as you are," I teased.
"Ha ha, very funny," Hiro sniffed, "So you're a Viking and a comedian are you?"
"I like to think so," I grinned, Mochi was purring and rubbing his head against me. This was possibly the most majestic creature I had ever gotten the honor to snuggle.
"Well, feel free to join the game whenever you're done molesting my cat," Hiro replied.
After several hours of getting ultra-competitive over a game of Rayman: Origins and a delicious dish of hot wings with Aunt Cass, I realized I hadn't texted either of my parents. Sound the funeral bells, my mom is going to kill me.
I scrambled to get my phone out of my pocket and low and behold my dad had texted me. Good grief. It was sent only three minutes ago. Some higher power still loves me at least. I quickly texted him back and then began to elegantly make my exit.
"Thanks for feeding and housing me for the day," I said to Aunt Cass.
"You're welcome in my café anytime, Fiske. It's always nice to have company," Aunt Cass said merrily, giving me another Herculean hug.
Hiro and I exchanged phone numbers, hugs, and sassy remarks before I started the trek back home. I had actually made a friend. I was feeling pretty proud of myself. That is until I got a text from Hiro about halfway home. I almost turned around to storm all the way back and slap him, but I showed self-discipline and continued back to the house. Besides, I always have time to slap him later. The conversation was short, but was pretty much an allegory for our entire relationship.
Hey Diane. My phone keeps autocorrecting
your name and I'm far too lazy to fix it. Just
wanted to make sure this is the right number.
What with you being a ditz and all.
God damn it Hiro I am not a ditz.
You're right. More like Fritz. And your name
is also Diane in my contacts.
Just so you know.
Done with your shit Hiro. And what
the hell is a Fritz?
Done with my shit? Already? This is only
the beginning. And Fritz the Cat is an
X rated animated film directed by Ralph
Bakshi in the 1970s. Fritz is an anthropomorphic
feline who goes on a personal journey to find
himself. It explores hedonism and sociopolitical
consciousness. It's also a satire on college
life, race relations, free love, and politics.
Oh great. Can't wait for day two. More
bullshit and cat jokes. You are an astounding
encyclopedia of useless information by the way.
Thank you. I try.
I sighed. The brisk air filled my lungs and left a light stinging sensation in my chest. I swear, if he calls me Diane for the rest of our lives I will pee on him.