Title: Something Different
Rating: T
Characters: Hiccup, Jack Frost
Pairs: N/A
Summary: Sometimes fate brings the most unlikely people together.
The sound of the chain turning under his feet made him cringe. It was a high pitched scraping sound that scratched against his ear drums with every pump forward. The smell of the large city wafted against his freckled face, his jalopy of a bike barely able move forward with its duck taped ends. The air was crisp today, biting against his skin even through his green sweater. No one paid attention to the scrawny boy, pushing himself up the street at a depressing pace; though he did receive unhappy glances from patrons in ear shot of his monstrosity. His bike had seen better days. Unfortunately he didn't have the money to try to purchase a new one or even acceptable parts. Not since that day. His mud brown eyes narrowed at the thought, his long fingers gripped the bars tightly.
After high school he had the chance to go to any college of his choice. Anyone would take his excellent grades and high test scores. He was the valedictorian of his class, standing tall in the academic world with few rivaling his position. His dream was to be an engineer. He could build anything from scraps, pulling together metal and wire like stringing together mathematics and blue prints. His mind was always on over drive, his brain filling in spaces that few knew existed. He thought of every angle, every chance with the tactical genius of a master chess player. It was a gift that his teachers admired and a curse his father condemned him for.
His father denied his intelligence like unwanted dog, hoping that his emasculated son would deny its existence. But he couldn't, it was a part of him. But his father would have none of that. His acceptance letters were destroyed the day he got home. Their remains burned and charred with any existence of a life outside his father's regime.
"How could you?! This is MY life, dad! Mine! Not yours!"
His father loomed over him, his massive dark beard and burly stature trumped the skinny adolescent, yet the boy squared his shoulders. His eyes were glazed with unshed tears, his freckled face red with rage.
"No son of mine will be gallivanting with weak men for the rest of his god forsaken life! I will not allow you to drag our family's name down with you—"
"Do you hear yourself?! I'm going to college not joining the fucking circus!" Hiccup shut his eyes tight, his fists clenched at his sides. He never cussed. Not unless he needed to. But now…now he wanted to scream and yell. He wanted to, for once, be strong enough to fight someone…and win. He looked at his father once more, his own dark eyes reflecting back at him with just as much anger. "Most fathers would be proud of their sons. I got accepted to Yale, dad. Yale! I could've—"
"You could've been one of those weak boys you're always with, building robots and whatever else! You are a Haddock! You are going to stay here and work in the family business until I think you're strong to handle the world! Be a man for once, Hiccup! You are the decedent of Vikings—"
"No." his voice was soft, empty compared his father's boom. It stopped the elder man short. There was heavy silence that filled the room, the same silence that filled the space between father and estranged son. The same silence that had been present since his mother's death.
"No?" the timber was rough. Sandpaper against his skin.
"No." the newly graduate repeated, "No more Vikings. No more demands. I wish I was never a Haddock to begin with." With a turn of his heel, his made his way out of the den. Footfalls echoed down the hall, his newly opened eyes sent on the door.
That was the last time he saw his father.
That same day he packed up all of his belongings, taken all the money he saved up for college and moved out into the city. Never once had he looked back to the Haddock Empire. Never once did he contact anyone in his family to tell them how he was. He changed his number, got a new job at a electronics store and started saving up to pay for his admission to a university without his father's money. It was a rude awakening at first. Living in a studio apartment in a large bustling city. Paying rent and for groceries, paying bills and getting himself to work with only his jacked up bike. He blew tangled dirt colored bangs from his face as he came to a stop at a cross walk.
Leaning to the side, his sneaker resting on the ground as he waited for his signal to cross. Dull eyes scanned the busy streets, pedestrians walked to and fro like well-trained soldiers. Suits and ties fading into a sea of bodies, the newspaper colors were bleak and monotonous. A glimpse of blue made his eyes dart to across the street, opposite from his daily route. A boy leaned against a brick wall of a large skyscraper, his blue hoodie was pulled up to frame his face, hands tucked deep into his pockets. Usually Hiccup wouldn't have stopped, wouldn't have given a thought to the change of scenery in his repeated routine. But there was something about the boy that caught his eye.
Startling ice blue eyes met chocolate brown, an upturn of thin lips sent a chill down the biker's spine. He blinked and there was a high pitched scream. The boy was gone. Few people noticed the woman's distress, her face wrinkled with worry and fear. It didn't take long for Hiccup to assess the situation. The boy in the blue hoodie had taken off after what looked like a much larger man with the woman's purse under his arm. For a split moment, everything slowed down.
He watched the boy he never met chase down a thief, a blur of the pair disturbing the sea of black and white. The monotony had shifted like a pebble thrown into still water. This was not drill. This was not routine. This was not what he had planned and yet the chaos stirred something inside him.
With a loud screech of his chain pulling against the pike of his gears, he was dodging traffic. His heart was in his lungs, his eyes wide. There was no going back now. He was disturbing the sea, he was destroying the steady steam and changing the game. Adrenaline pumped into his veins with every peddled motion. No more time to wait and assess, it was time for action. His mind shoved him into scenarios, pulled facts from the image in front of him.
Fact: The thief was heading toward the junction of 28th and Glenn.
Fact: All movements are precise and chosen with knowing outcome; the thief has a destination.
Fact: Local hero was three paces behind, two people short of reaching distance.
Fact: Alley way next to the Chinese restaurant on the right led out to Glenn.
Hypothesis: If executed in under a minute, path can be blocked.
Without a second thought, the lanky boy threw his weight to the left, turning his bike abruptly before increasing speed down the dark alley. It was a straight shot onto Glenn Avenue. His eyes narrowed, jean clad hips rose off his ripped bike seat, the ends of his white button up flapped in the breeze from under the hem of his sweater. He leaned forward, forcing his momentum down what small incline of concrete there was before the alley met the sidewalk. The count down in his head was echoing in his ears, unknowingly speaking aloud until he pressed down on the handle breaks with a hard yank and grip.
Hypothesis: Proved.
The hard thud of body hitting machine, skull knocking onto concrete, metal scraping against rock was proof enough. Hiccup swore he could feel his brain raddle against the walls of his cranium. He tasted blood on his tongue and his elbows throbbed. He opened his eyes and sat up just as the thief untangled himself from the metal contraption that had ensnared him upon impact. His face was filled with surprise and slight pain, a painful scratch from the rocks bled into his goatee. A manly yelp escaped him, pale hands grabbed the perpetrator, pushing him against the wall of bank building. Hiccup watched the blue hooded figure shove the man, holing his white shirt in his hands threateningly.
"H-Hey man! I didn't know—"
"Fuck what you know." The hero smirked, ice blue eyes filled with a thrill of amusement and ego. "Hand it over, and I won't have my friend here ram that bike where you won't want it."
Hiccup's chest rose and fell with every heavy breath but he found the strength to push himself up, straighten his shoulders and glare at the captive as if he had been the boy's accomplice all along. He ignored the throbbing and the scraps, enjoying the thrill of actually being a part of something worthwhile. Not to mention, the swell of pride at being acknowledge for his feat was enough to get him to smirk at the thief as well. Not something he was used to, his smirking thing. His face held an awkward smile instead. Luckily they ignored it.
"F-Fine here!" he shoved the purse into the arms of the blue hoodie, "Just take it!"
"Good choice." Pale hands had let go of the white shirt and clutched the purse instead. The thief picked himself up and took off past him. Hiccup turned and watched as the man made a sharp turn around the corner of the next building. Alarms went off in his head, though the feeling was mixed with his own pain. Red flags seemed to be sprouting in Hiccups head but his momentary adrenaline high had him turning back to the mysterious hooded boy before him. Just as he did, the woman from before had turned the corner in soft jog, smiling in gratitude at the other boy.
"Oh my god, thank you so much! This purse cost me a fortune and I had just gone to the bank—oh I can't believe you got it back! Thank you thank you thank you." The woman wrapped the boy in a tight abrupt hug before pulling away. It was at the moment Hiccup noticed what she was wearing. While she held her black heels in her hands, she wore an expensive looking black skirt suit, expensive diamond earrings graced her lobes and her fingers were adorned with decretive jewels. She was well into her forties, yet obviously had work down to her eyes and corners of her mouth. She was either wealthy or her husband was. Those red flags were back, waving behind his eyes.
"No problem ma'am. I couldn't allow someone to just steal from an innocent woman." The boy's voice was a smooth timber, charming and paired with an innocent tilt of his head. The woman smiled and dug into her purse, pulling out a wad of cash she had obviously gotten from the bank. Manicured hands had pulled at least four hundred dollar bills from the deck of green.
"Here's for your troubles young man." She smiled.
"Oh no I couldn't!"
"Oh please you deserve it."
The boy gave a blindingly handsome smile and took the cash from her hands, "Well thank you, ma'am."
The woman hailed a taxi and after a few more thank yous and good byes, she was gone. The sea of newspaper colors, business men and woman, fell back into place. He picked up his destroyed bike and rolled it over to the hooded boy. The screeching of metal on metal had the boy turning to him with a grimace.
"You did pretty good." He said with a smirk, hands back in his pockets. He was about the same height as himself, his dark jeans and hoodie contrasted to the bright blue of his eyes. By the square of his shoulders and biceps, his seemingly lean physique was an illusion to what muscle he had underneath. That was the only way to explain the guys ability to push and lift the thief up against the wall the way he did. Hiccup smiled a bit, nervously running his hand through his messy brown locks.
"Uh thanks." He mumbled.
"See ya around, I guess." The boy said with a chuckle and turned to walk down the alley back toward where they had started. Hiccup watched him in mild fascination, his prior thoughts of getting to work on time had left him. Instead he was filled with the need to follow the boy. If not only to get his share of the money. He shook himself out of his stupor and followed the boy down the alley.
"Wait up!"
"For what?" the boy called over his shoulder, never stopping his stride.
"Well- uh- how much did you get?"
"Four hundred."
"Really?"
The boy kept walking until he got to the end of the alley. He turned to walk around the large garbage disposal, leaning behind it to reach for something. He pulled out a dark blue and white long board. Those red flags came back, alarms went off. The dullness faded and Hiccup was awakened with a burst of color. He turned and saw the goateed thief casually standing over at the opposite corner of the street, a cigarette in his mouth. Everything began to fit together all at once and he wasn't sure if he was angry or impressed.
It was a set up.
He had enabled a con.
That's why the thief was taking a deliberate route rather than just taking off. That's why the woman had just left the bank off Glenn Avenue. That's why she was targeted. That's why his long board was hidden in the very alley that connected the opposite street to the bank. It was all a ploy to get the reward from an oblivious participant in an elaborate hoax.
"You planned this." Hiccup's voice was low and had a tilt of belief in the end of his words. The boy turned and pushed back his hood. Stark white hair stuck up messily around his bright blue eyes, that signature smirk played at his pale lips. The clack of blue wheels hitting the concrete made him jump.
"You're a smart one, huh?" he said, placing his hands above his head casually. "I hate to break it to you, but the dynamic duo has now turned into the dynamic uno. You were a real team player, but I have things to do, stuff to steal, you know." With a shrug and sarcastic flat hand salute, he mounted his board.
All at once, Hiccup felt the world start to dim again. His work looming over him, his expenses piling up. He never wanted his life to be like this. He was supposed to be living on a nice campus with dormmates and study groups. He was supposed to be building things, fixing machines and sketching out blue prints. Instead he was biking to a job he hated, going home to an empty apartment and filling his time with anything possible with not a friend in sight. He wanted that rush again. He wanted color. He wanted to be free from everything that was holding him back. He clenched his fists at his sides, searching for the words inside his head. He should just walk away. He should just go to work and save money. The right thing to do would to be a good worker until he could afford to be a good student. The logical thing to do was to walk away from the con artist who tricked everyone into giving him more money than Hiccup made is his bi monthly checks.
"I want in!"
The rolling wheels came to a stop as a white sneaker hit the ground. His head turned, blue eyes met brown. The signature smirk was no longer there but instead a skeptical once over replaced it. Hiccup stepped forward, letting his useless bike back and clatter to the ground.
"What makes you think I want you in?" the boy retorted.
"I can make you twice the money you're co-conspirator is making." He said, trying to stop his voice from getting higher in his nervousness. The boy paused before kicking up the board into his waiting hand,
"I'm listening."
"I-I'm smart. I knew every move before he made them. That's how I was able to anticipate his movements." He explained, his palms sweating under the pressure and scrutiny of the white haired boys cerulean gaze. He took a breath as the boy came closer, invading his personal space to watch him closely. He looked him right in the eye, "My brain is worth twice of that guy's brawn. I can promise you better results with less risks."
The boy cocked his head to the side, "And if you don't?"
"Ill act like this never happened and go back to my life."
There was a moment of silence in the alley before a mischievous smile curled its away cross the mouth of the pale boy. He stuck out his hand toward him, making Hiccup jump at the sudden movement.
"The names Jack." He said.
"Hiccup."
He gave a light chuckle as he tucked his board under his arm, "Who did your parents lose a bet with?"
The intelligent one narrowed his eyes at the prick, "Ha ha. I didn't know you were a con artist and a comedian." The white haired boy laughed, the teenager had sounded almost innocent in his laugh. That horribly coy smirk was wiped off his face and replaced with a blindingly bright smile.
"I think this might work."
That was the day that everything changed.
