Fleeting Touches

Chapter 1 A Shore Thing

A/N: This is an idea that popped into my head when I was trying to think of what kind of alternate universe hasn't been done before. Among other concepts, this one stood out to me (which may have something to do with the pun in its title). Anyway, this comes from my utmost respect and admiration for all service men and women. I tried to make it as accurate possible, hence why it starts out a little bit technical. It will likely be less so as the story goes on. It's also my first attempt at an HTTYD fic, so I hope you enjoy :)

-Nick (ncham9)

There is always a strange energy that floats around port cities near the time of Fleet Week. This year's was no different. Chief Petty Officer Hiccup Haddock was certainly one to feel the buzz in the air as he and his fellow shipmates endured the torturous last day of travel into New York Harbor.

He was stationed on the USS Berk, a cruiser of the class Ticonderoga. The Berk and her crew were returning from routine patrols in the Mediterranean and Red Seas. The task was arduous and tedious, but necessary nonetheless. With the billions of dollars in cargo that pass through the already politically unstable area, piracy and attack were very serious threats to commercial vessels. While the job might sound well and good from the outside, those who performed it knew that it essentially amounted to babysitting largely quiet waters. Aside from a few false alarms and 'potential risks' that turned out to be negligible, life merely went by.

The safekeeping of the ship was where Hiccup's duties lied. He was a member of the Security Alert Team aboard the Berk, charged with keeping order on the hunk of buoyant metal that was still considered U.S. territory and therefore a restricted area. Despite the importance of their role, he and his contemporaries were not so affectionately likened to mall cops by their shipmates, though certainly not to their faces. As men of the Navy, a rather proud sort, they took it in stride. If nothing else, at least they weren't in the Air Force.*

Hiccup sat at a table on the mess deck with many of his fellow enlistees. While he could have eaten at the Chief's mess, he chose to sit with his subordinates in a show of solidarity. He picked at his lunch sparingly, knowing that the first thing he wanted to do once he was granted shore leave was eat a real meal at a restaurant. Nutrition could have been far worse for the crew, and had been in the past, so it wasn't worth complaining about, but it didn't compare to what he could have in the city. His stomach groaned in anticipation.

"Are you feeling alright, Chief?" asked a stocky, blonde sailor who sat next to him, eyeing him with concern, but also a hint of something else. How he heard the noise over the healthy din surrounding them, Hiccup didn't know, but he blinked himself out of his contemplations so as to address the young man.

"I'm fine, Fishlegs" he replied dismissively. Hiccup was enjoying the comfort of the silence that existed inside his own head when he focused solely on thinking to himself and he wished to return to it. The blonde persisted though.

"Are you sure?" he probed, seeming to not have achieved some desired result of the conversation. Hiccup looked at him, squinting in suspicion. After being on the same ship together for the past few months, he knew what Fishlegs wanted from him. He gave an exasperated grumble and rolled his eyes.

"Here" Hiccup sighed, sliding the metal tray along the similarly steel table, toward the other sailor.

"Well, I mean…if you don't want it…" Fishlegs began, attempting to sound aloof, only to be cut off by an all too knowing Hiccup.

"Just take it" he ordered, verging on a frustrated growl. The larger man quickly started scarfing down the additional meal in compliance. Hiccup wasn't angry, but desired to concentrate on his broodings rather than the insatiable hunger of the boy. If there was one thing that could be said about Chief Haddock, it was that he knew his shipmates.

Seaman Frankie "Fishlegs" Ingerman was one of the handful of crew assigned to Hiccup's team. Fishlegs was the newest and youngest (though not by far) among them. From what Hiccup had heard, he received his outlandish nickname from a humorous comment in regards to his usefulness in boot camp. The designation bore no malice, however, so it was used rather freely, having come to be accepted by the recipient with time. In addition, the idea alone of saying 'Seaman Ingerman' every time Hiccup called him made his tongue convulse.

He was rather large, but Hiccup was certain that under what his mind jokingly called 'blubber' was a significant store of muscle. Fishlegs had also gained a small amount of notoriety for two things: his brains, evident by his incessant spouting of mostly inconsequential facts, and his appetite, which did rather explain his stature.

Another of his team sat across from them, now snickering at the interaction between Hiccup and Frankie.

"Ha! You keep doing that and I'm sure we'll sink…" he laughed.

Between the bites of food he shoveled into his mouth, Frankie defended himself, saying "Actually…any weight added by personal consumption would be fairly negligible when you consider the water-displacement to ton ratio of the Berk".

"…and keep doing that and I'll make sure it's just you sinking…" the other added, scowling a little contemptuously.

"Lay off him, Snotlout" Hiccup spoke, just forcefully enough to impose his authority. Both of the two promptly went back to eating, Fishlegs more submissively, his counterpart doing so only after an indignant huff. Hiccup chose to disregard that.

Petty Officer Third Class Scott "Snotlout" Jorgenson was also under Hiccup's leadership. His nickname actually came from an insult the first officer had given him on his first year aboard the ship. That had been a good laugh for Hiccup for a few weeks following. Having gained an actual sense of self-worth after being promoted to his current rating, Snotlout scoffed at the superior's remark about his lack of saluting. Word has it that the sea life in the surrounding few miles of water ran scared at the sound of the man's vaguely Irish-sounding shouts. If only Hiccup had been there to see it.

Snotlout was still of a rather arrogant demeanor. He took orders but always seemed to do so begrudgingly. On top of that, he took a particular delight in exploiting the easy target of Fishlegs' weight for comedy. Still, Hiccup tolerated having him as a subordinate, not that he would really use his rank to make his life harder anyway. He did revel in putting the prick in his place every once in a while, though.

Lastly, sitting at the table of five, were two other blondes, though of skinnier builds than the former. They were brother and sister, twins in fact, Tucker "Tuffnut" and Rachel "Ruffnut" Thorston. The two both made childish 'oooh' sounds at Hiccup's scolding, though they were silenced by a single glare from him. They were a particularly maddening duo, having played no shortage of tricks and pranks while on the ship, albeit none of a notably harming nature. They both shared the same ranking as Snotlout; however they served as gunners mates. The two had a particular affinity toward seeing things "go boom", in their words. This suited their knack for repairs and maintenance of the ship's various batteries.

Regardless of their individually annoying traits, Hiccup did consider all of them his friends. For the most part, he treated them as equals, only resorting to pulling his rank in select instances. While he did allow them to call him by his first name, this could not be mistaken for true equality. They all knew that if he was angry, especially if he addressed them by their formal rank and name that they had better respond with 'Chief' at the end of their sentence and an instantaneous straightening up of their shit. Aside from these occasions, he was a rather laidback and friendly man to work for.

He was easy for them to get along with in no small part because of his similar age. He was only 23, rather young for his rating, whereas the other four were of 19, a pair of 20, and 21 years of age. It was an unspoken rule never to bring this up, however, because everyone was aware of how he got promoted so quickly. It was no mystery that the highest authority on the ship, Captain Stoick Haddock, a big mountain of a man with an equally massive red beard, was his father. This led many to believe that he was more so given the title because of his father's influence, rather than having truly earned it himself.

That was nonsense, of course. Hiccup worked his ass off every day since joining the navy, serving dutifully and beyond what was asked of him. No matter what anyone else said, he made his way on his own merit. And he was well known to make sure that all who questioned the fact were soon made to believe it.

As the surrounding crew members ate and made light conversation and jests about what would come of their time ashore, Hiccup sat in silence. Besides intending to get some culinary indulgences, he really had no plan. Usually, sailors used this time to go into bars in uniform and try their best to leave with some young, promiscuous girls with loose morals. Hiccup wasn't really interested in all that, though. It was an unpopular opinion, but he was not really itching to jump into some female stranger's pants. Call him old fashioned, but he actually wanted a conversation and a friend out of a woman more than sloppy, drunk sex.

He was so consistent with this belief, in fact, that he had actually never even been in a woman's bed before. This may have been more due to the lack of opportunity for him rather than abstinence, though. The only girl to have ever shown vague interest in him was his girlfriend in high school, and that relationship lasted all of a month before they both realized that they were better off as just friends. He may have also only come to this realization a few months after she dumped him. She was the only girl he'd ever even kissed. But his shipmates didn't know this rather depressing reality, so he kept it to himself and turned to them for ideas.

"So what are you guys doing in port?" he asked abruptly, no one having paid him any mind since he'd spoken up for Fishlegs several minutes ago. They all looked at him curiously before Snotlout took this as an opportunity to talk about his favorite subject, himself.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to hook up with at least a girl a night, maybe two if I manage it" he asserted proudly, having no regard for the ass he sounded like.

"Pfft. I hope you're planning on stocking up on all the drugs you'll need." Ruffnut sneered, high-fiving her brother in celebration for the witty jibe.

"As if...the only drugs I need are right here and here" he boasted raising his right and left arm and flexing his biceps. "They work so well you can call me a heroine" he added, supplementing his display with a kiss to each of the muscles. While his arms were large and bulbous, Hiccup didn't think they had the definition to merit bragging about them. That didn't concern the dark-haired sailor though. Modesty didn't even occur to him as a possibility.

Fishlegs decided to interject, "Heroine implies female you know…". Both the twins and Snotlout scowled at him for his correction. The boy's intelligence was hard thing to appreciate, especially for those whom it was lost on. After a stagnant moment of dirty looks at the teen, the other three got back to the conversation they were apparently having between only themselves.

"Anyway…I'd still go with poisoning them if I were you" Tuffnut said, sending both he and his sister into a fit of snorting laughter. Snotlout grumbled to himself and returned to eating his food.

Moving on, Hiccup turned to the twins and asked "What are you guys gonna do?".

The two of them looked at each other for a moment and then turned back, pronouncing in unison "Getting shit-faced". They smirked at the magical, shared brain that existed between them.

Hiccup rolled his eyes at their answer. 'Well that was all useless' he thought to himself, still coming short on ideas for his upcoming excursion. Drinking himself into a coma or becoming a serious risk for spreading an STD, very enticing options. Still looking for a decent possibility, Hiccup turned to Fishlegs, who had also gone back to finishing the last scraps of what used to be meatloaf off of his tray.

"What about you, Frankie?" he asked, noticing that the boy had neglected to answer. The blonde's head tilted up and bore a confused expression.

"Me?" the large young man asked. Hiccup didn't understand what was so complicated about his question.

"Is there another Frankie sitting at this table that I don't know about?" Hiccup asked rhetorically. They must have been teaching something different in high schools since he graduated.

"Oh…um…n-no. Sorry, it's just…you…you never call me by my name is all" the boy sputtered. This struck Hiccup as a little odd.

"So? People call me by my name. That is yours isn't it?" he asked sarcastically. Maybe he was wrong about the boy being smart.

"Y-Yes, Chief. I'm going to see my mother in Long Island." Fishlegs replied, still stuttering for some reason. Could Hiccup really make him that nervous? It's not like he's an actual officer, not to mention he was significantly shorter than the boy and of a much lighter frame.

"Well…so you're from the area?" Hiccup continued, doing his best to ignore the boy's uncomfortable skittishness.

"Yes, Chief"

"Hiccup for now. So what do you do for fun around there?" Hiccup responded, taking the opportunity to do some hobby shopping. The boy may have held some usefulness after all.

"I…uh…well my friends and I back in high school used to play Dungeons and Dragons on weekends" Fishlegs answered after a moment of consideration, though it still sounded like a question. Maybe Hiccup should lay off the dry sarcasm around him. He seemed to somehow manage to be intimidating despite his meager size and nasal voice. Regardless, Dungeons and Dragons, while he did partake in it occasionally in his youth, wasn't something he intended to do for his one week in New York. Seeing the endeavor to procure ideas from the group as a failure, he retreated to quiet contemplation. Frankie took this as a sign to do the same.

So far, he had a few hours until they made port and still no progress.

-College is something akin to torture, the only real difference being it is more expensive. Not only did it sap most of Astrid's money, but took with it most of her energy, free time, and capacity to have fun. It'd been months seen she'd actually gone out to do anything but work and train.

Though it was the middle of May and most of her fellow students were taking the summer off to actually enjoy themselves, she had elected to take summer classes, a decision she was quickly coming to regret. Sure, it meant that she could earn more credits and eventually graduate sooner, but it also ensured that she hated life for more of the year.

Having just closed her British literature textbook after a long few hours of studying, Astrid rubbed her temples sorely. Her eyes grew weary and it was only 6 pm. She needed coffee. Returning the overly large and heavy book to her backpack, she stood up and walked over to the kitchen of her apartment to hopefully get enough caffeine into her bloodstream to make it through the night.

As she started pressing buttons on her chintzy cappuccino machine, a jingle accompanied by a few metallic clicks sounded behind her. The apartment door swung open and through it stepped a young, green-eyed brunette.

"Hi Heather" Astrid grumbled, more due to her lethargy than the other girl's presence.

"Hey Hofferson" Heather replied as she set her bag down and her coat on the hook by the door. "You sound like death. What's up?" she asked, being in tune to Astrid's various moods after the past three years of being her roommate. Astrid sighed, knowing that no defense would be able to convince her friend of anything other than what she already knew.

"Exam on Paradise Lost is killing me" the blonde admitted, frustrated at the world for having given her life. She didn't want to be having this conversation, mostly out of envy of Heather for having wisely chosen to have a life during the summer. It was the only time Astrid would freely admit to having made a mistake.

All of her life, she had strived to be the best. She had known since the age of eight that she wanted to go to New York University and thirteen years of nearly non-stop work later, she continued endeavored for excellence. Along with juggling her academics and a part-time job to supplement her scholarships, Astrid also managed to train and practice for her athletics. 'Lazy days' were not even a concept in her world.

So she was no stranger to having studied so hard and for so long that her head felt like it was collapsing under its own weight. Coffee was pretty high up on the list of remedies. She took her freshly brewed cup of God's gift to the over-worked to the couch and set down next to Heather, who had already resigned to watching TV.

"So what are you up to tonight?" Astrid asked, making conversation as a means to distract herself. Things could have been worse; she could've had to live with someone whom she hated. That was a very real possibility considering the amount of people who fit that description. She had been fairly fortunate Heather. At least she was alright; fairly clean, organized, and good with rent. Astrid could even say that the girl was her best friend, or more accurately, the only one she had time for. Lucky Heather and her ability to have a social life. Said girl smirked devilishly in response.

"Me? I'm going out and finding myself a sailor to wrap my legs around." She declared unabashedly. That was the one thing Astrid could criticize the girl for, her lack of shame. She offered no defense for blatantly using people for a good time. However, Astrid could say that she could appreciate both the honesty and the fact that Heather knew how to take control. She wasn't one to beat around the bush in a relationship or get pushed around by some guy. She knew what she wanted and she went after it. Astrid could relate to that. In reference to the girls answer, though, she rolled her eyes.

"Mhm. In other news, the sky is blue…" Astrid jabbed playfully. This was a comfortable topic for the two, having spent many a night regaling in Heather's misadventures, most of them involving men. While Astrid certainly had some stories of her own to tell, they weren't as numerous or interesting. Still, she didn't consider the other girl to be excessive in her sex life; she just knew when and how to let loose every once in a while. Maybe Astrid could learn a thing or two from that.

"Oh, you poor, poor thing; you don't even know…" Heather led on sarcastically, "It's Fleet Week! Get dressed, you're coming with me.". While it was true the over-worked girl didn't know that, she clearly didn't need to. She had much better things to preoccupy her thoughts with, like her exam next week.

"No" Astrid flatly replied, trying to kill the conversation in its infancy.

"Oh come on…" the other girl pleaded, now taking to pouting and begging Astrid with big, green eyes. The blonde was not going to be swayed so easily. After three years of living together, the effect of that trick had long since disappeared.

"I don't have time to watch you go tongue some poor Navy boy, I have too much going on" Astrid said, glancing back at her back pack which was currently resting on the floor by the table she had previously occupied. It was a constant reminder of everything that needed to be done.

"That's exactly the problem," Heather pointed out, poking a finger into her roommate's side to get her attention; "You need to loosen up have some fun and what better way to do that than being surrounded by seamen?". Astrid snorted at the crude humor, but tried to remain resolute, though she wasn't convincing anyone.

"Eww" she chided, earning a giggle at her reaction.

"So, are you coming or not?" Heather asked, staring into the other girl's eyes, daring her to say 'no'.

"If I say 'not' will you actually leave me alone?" Astrid returned, locking gaze with her roommate and quirking an eyebrow. Heather snorted and a broad grin stretched across her face.

"Come on…you know me better than to even hope for that" she replied, crossing her arms and reclining into the back of the couch, readying herself for a long battle.

"So my options are to go out and not get anything done or to stay here and accomplish the same amount of nothing? Do I have this right?" Astrid sighed, knowing she had already lost when Heather walked into the apartment. She had probably already planned on dragging the blonde out against her will from the start, only choosing to take a nonchalant approach to it.

"Yup" Heather replied simply.

Astrid rolled her eyes and groaned, muttering something like a defeated "fine" as she stood up and trudged to her room to pick out something to wear. Willing or not, she was still going to look presentable. She was certainly going to miss the warm sweatpants and baggy hoodie that currently draped over her body loosely.

"That's a good girl" Heather called out from behind her on the sofa. Astrid could almost feel her smirk across the room.

"If I fail my test you owe me tuition" she spat back as she closed the door to her room. They hadn't even left yet and she wanted to come back. Her eyes were strained from long hours in front of the bleached, white pages of her textbook and she imagined that her ears would come to know a similar pain as soon as they were hit by the obnoxiously loud music in whatever bar they would wind up in. Already physically and mentally exhausted, she thought 'maybe I could use a drink…'.

*This is a reference to the derision of the Air Force by other branches of the military, largely due to its lack of history when compared to the Army, Navy, etc. It's a joke. I respect all servicemen.