It was late afternoon when Hiccup and Snot pulled up in front of Hiccup's house, and by that time, Hiccup had decided that fanny packs were the greatest invention in the world. Seriously, they were like one big pocket that went with every outfit. They didn't have to be the color of a migraine, surely someone somewhere on the Internet sold what could be described as tasteful fanny packs. And instead of having things fall out of pockets for those who used pockets, or losing their bag somewhere for those who carried bags, the fanny pack was right there, attached, and best of all it had a zipper. Fanny packs were awesome. Fanny packs were the future. Hiccup was an idiot for implying that fanny packs were anything other than wonderful and devastating and witty and attractive.
Hiccup thought he could really get down with fanny packs. Unfortunately he highly doubted he would ever see a fanny pack again.
"…ellooooo?"
A dull pain burst in Hiccup's shoulder. "Ahh," he whined, rubbing the sore spot and glaring at Snot. "What? What do you want?"
Snot lowered his fist. "You've been boring the whole ride back, man!"
"I'm tired, we've been at the beach like all day." He turned off the car, hooking his keyring around his thumb.
"You didn't even do anything."
This was true. After the blonde lady had left Hiccup had spent the rest of the time moving to different spots on the beach, while Toothless darted up to the tail-end of the waves. Hiccup had alternated between watching his cat, and watching his phone. And repeating to himself that the very worst idea, after inciting a woman to literally run away, was to text her. Really, he should just delete the entire past text conversation and lose her number, but he couldn't bring himself to.
From what he'd caught of Snot's recount of the day, he'd spent all day owning at volleyball and hittin' the waves with babes, so apparently Hiccup had no right to be tired.
As Hiccup unbuckled his seatbelt and twisted backward to pick a sleeping Toothless out of the backseat, Snot asked, "Oh hey, whatever happened with Not-Me and the pitbull?"
Hiccup, still reaching into the backseat, froze.
"Oh my god you met them didn't you. Was I right? Was it a lady? It totally was! Was she hot? Hiccup? Hey, Hiccup."
Hiccup opened his mouth to say something.
"She was, wasn't she? What! She was hot, and you didn't tell me! What the hell is the matter with you man! Oh, was it the pitbull? Or did she shove you? Wow, she shoved you and you fell?" Snot laughed, hard, slapping his thigh and everything. "I wouldn't have told me either."
Hiccup hadn't closed his mouth yet. What the hell just happened there? "It was actually more of a solid poke in the back, okay—" Dammit! He'd promised himself he wouldn't tell Snot any of it!
Snot just belted a guffaw again and said, "I am so gonna text her," and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.
Narrowing his eyes and resting his hand on the door handle, Hiccup waited until his cousin was sufficiently distracted with composing his message. Once he was, he snatched the phone from Snot's fingers, opened his door, and hurled himself out of the car and out of Snot's reach.
Snot had thrown himself sideways into the driver's seat in his attempt to get his phone back, but was hindered by his seatbelt. Toothless awoke, hissed, and leapt through the gap between the driver's seat and the open door. He landed like a tree monkey on Hiccup's swim trunks, forcing him to grab them to keep them up.
"Hey!" The passenger side door opened and Snot's head appeared above the roof. "Gimme back my phone, freak!"
Hiccup put the phone behind his back, as if his cousin could reach over the car and re-steal it. "You literally cannot text her," he said, as he used his other hand to haul Toothless up to his shoulder.
"Come on, man! You just don't want—"
Before Snot could finish that sentence, maybe because it was a little bit true, Hiccup interrupted, "I am ninety-five percent sure she'll call the cops if either of us bother her again."
And since this was a lot true, and since Hiccup absolutely believed it, Snot crossed his arms defiantly.
"You have to promise," Hiccup insisted.
Snot rolled his eyes.
"Out loud," Hiccup said patiently.
"Fine," Snot snarled, "I promise, okay? Now gimme back my phone."
Hiccup slid the phone across the roof toward his cousin, rolling his eyes as well.
They left the rest of their stuff in Hiccup's trunk as they walked up the sidewalk and around back where Hiccup's front door technically was. Snot babbled on about the night's birthday plans.
"…and oh my god man, I found this bar and we are gonna get so fuckin' wasted tonight you don't even know—"
Oh. Right. Hiccup's stomach shrank in dread. "Yeeeah, about that—"
"No! No no no!" Snot declared, stopping a few feet from the door and pointing at Hiccup with each denial.
"I'm really not in the mood to get dr—"
"Come on, it's gonna be so much fun! Like five of my old frat guys are gonna be there—"
Grimacing, and reaching up to scratch a purring Toothless behind the ear, Hiccup muttered, "I'm really exhausted after today—"
"—and you can forget about the hot girl that beat you up—"
Hiccup sighed, jingling his keys in his hand, because that was part of the problem. If he went out with Snot tonight to get drunk, he would have to delete her number instantly. As in, right now. It was the only way to preserve his dignity and, quite possibly, the cleanliness of his criminal record.
"—I mean," Snot laughed, "it's not like you have other plans tonight or anything—"
In his swim trunk pocket, Hiccup's phone buzzed.
After Hiccup checked it, he turned on his heel and began walking back to his car.
"Hey! Hey! Where are you going?"
Hiccup dashed off a quick Omw and put the phone back in his pocket. "I have plans!" he called over his shoulder.
"Who was that?" Then, much louder as Snot caught up with him, "Shit man, was that her?" And when Hiccup didn't answer he held out his hand. "Let me see your phone."
"No."
"Okay, I'll just come with."
"No. Oh my god." Hiccup turned around to face his cousin's stubborn look. "No. Here." Hiccup dug his wallet out of his other pocket, and he had almost forty dollars left after Snot's birthday.
He gave one ten dollar bill to Snot, who took it coolly, folded it, and tucked it under the one of the temples of his aviators.
"Go party with your SB buddies," Hiccup continued, backing away, "first drink's on me, happy twenty-fourth and everything, bye."
He had just opened the driver's side door when Snot shouted, "Hiccup!"
"What!" Hiccup yelled back.
"I need my keys."
Cursing, Hiccup shut the door, went to the trunk, opened it, threw Snot's shopping bag of his stuff at him, and slammed the trunk again.
"Hiccup!"
"Oh my god, what?"
"My beach towel." Snot held out a hand imperiously.
Hiccup pursed his lips and stared daggers at his cousin as he opened the trunk again, grabbed the stupid fire towel, and shot it at Snot's head. Snot caught it easily.
Rolling his eyes, Hiccup went back to get in his car.
"Hiccup!"
Hiccup skidded to a halt and widened his arms like, What.
"I want ten dollars."
"Wh—I just gave you a ten!"
"Well now I want another ten."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Hiccup slid into his car. The difference between now and middle school was that now he could just drive the hell away, which was what he did.
And as he pulled out of his neighborhood he felt Toothless stir on his shoulders then hop into the front seat.
"Dammit!" Hiccup smacked a palm against the steering wheel, and Toothless started to clean himself. "I thought I dropped you off, cat."
Except, right, he hadn't. Didn't even make it to the door.
Still, far too late to turn around now. Oh well. So he was showing up with the cat.
Hiccup drove as quickly as he dared, turning the radio on but unable to get into the music. It felt like it took forever to get there and twice as long to find parking, because he had less than thirty bucks and needed street parking so as to not arrive completely broke. It was around six o'clock by the time he locked his car with Toothless acting as a neck warmer, with the early evening descending cool along the coast.
She had texted him a picture of the pier, and nothing else. Like, that was a hint if anything, right? She'd recognized the ferris wheel in the background in the last picture of Toothless and that was how she found him, so clearly he was supposed to flip the situation here? What if she left already? What if she—oh god—what if she was just never there in the first place and was just, what, teaching him some sort of lesson? He'd received no answer to his reply that he was on his way. So. That was that. What the hell, the worst that could happen was that he make a fool of himself, and it wasn't like that hadn't already happened a half-dozen times since noon.
When Hiccup spotted her she was standing at the main pier entrance near the staircase, dog-free, bent over her phone with her elbows propped on the railing. Hiccup caught her in profile, her bright hair now neater, pulled into a loose braid over her shoulder. A bulky unzipped blue hoody concealed most of her torso, but she was wearing jean shorts that barely peeked out from beneath the hem of the hoodie and the effect was, well, nice.
Hiccup could tell she wasn't the type to stare longingly at her phone like he was, because she was actively texting somebody else, a tight grin appearing at one of the replies. He walked carefully, trying not to scuff the toe of his sandals against the planks, and reached up to stroke Toothless; then he very deliberately hooked a thumb under the kitty harness, not trusting the cat to not ruin this for him. Whatever this was. If he could keep a lid on stupid shit like dick pics.
Immediately tomorrow he was going to figure out how to excise a term from his personal vocabulary.
"So for someone who doesn't like to be messed around with," Hiccup said when he got close enough, "you sure like to mess with people."
Her head snapped up and turned, widened eyes betraying that she was a little taken aback. God, she was all showered and clean and pretty, and here he was, still full of Day At the Beach, wearing his cat. But when she met his apologetic smile, she shot a half-grin in return, said, "I don't know what you're talking about," and went back to her text.
Swallowing down a knot of nervousness, Hiccup joined her at the railing, leaning sideways against it to face her. "Well, I manage to make you literally run away from me—completely understandable, by the way, I wanted to run away from me at that… point too—"
She interrupted him with a laugh that was only part-mocking despite her next words. "I wasn't running away from you, idiot."
"You weren't?" He shifted forward. The evening sun picked red out of her yellow braid, and her pale eyelashes seemed to reflect light as she blinked. Most importantly, the smile that lingered after her laugh was so small, but it was there.
"No, I needed to get back to my jog," she said distractedly, not looking up from her phone, "I do the whole beach and back every day."
"Wow. That's…" insane? outrageous? really sexy? Hiccup ended up going with, "impressive. But still you just kinda"—He let go of Toothless to wave his arm in a manner that implied the way she zoomed off—"left?"
"Oh, without a word, you mean?"
"Okay," he sighed, "point taken."
"Mhmm," she straightened with a satisfied nod, and hit a button so her phone went dark.
"I honestly thought I had offended you with the whole fanny"—and she turned around to face him and holy goodness she was still wearing it, she was still wearing the orange fanny pack, now unzipping it in order to stow her phone. And her eyes were just daring him to say anything. Hiccup dropped his delighted grin, and other than that and the break in his sentence he recovered very well in his opinion—"the whole fanny pack thing, and well, I guess the last person I expected to see a text from was… Not-Snot."
He considered it a pretty good subtle-but-not-subtle-enough ploy for her name.
She ignored the unspoken question however, and instead herself asked, "You really think the fanny pack thing was the offensive part of the conversation?"
"It was the part where you ran away! I don't know," Hiccup rumpled his hair worriedly, dislodging sand onto Toothless, who flinched and bounded onto the railing. "Straw, camel's back, etcetera."
Meantime, he noticed, she shot a quick look at the cat who was sitting on the railing and staring at her, because, right, Toothless didn't exactly have a track record for polite greetings. Not when he was surprised, anyway. Hiccup grabbed his harness again to keep him from wandering, or pouncing.
Her eyes swept over Hiccup, and she crossed her arms. "Have you been here all day?"
Glancing down, Hiccup shuffled his position a little. She hadn't mentioned his leg, or otherwise her gaze hadn't lingered too long at it, and he couldn't tell if it was because she hadn't noticed or because she had but was waiting for him to bring it up first. Then he remembered she had looked close enough to notice the velcro strap sandals earlier.
"No. I made it home. Sort of. I didn't get to the door, I kinda turned around as soon as you…" Okay, that sounded pathetic. He diverted this line of conversation: "I don't actually walk that slowly, you know."
"I know," she said wryly, tossing her bangs out of her eye, "you were booking it when I first spotted you."
Hiccup stared at her for a moment. "I have no idea why you finally texted me again," he finally said.
She blinked at him. "Why do you think?"
"Um, because," he paused, because he honestly didn't know, or if he suspected he didn't dare say it aloud, "you're a nice person?"
"Nice?" she spat, as if he'd called her a bad word. Her arms hadn't uncrossed yet.
Hiccup hesitated, but her face was more shocked than angry. "Yeah, you let me screw up like… five separate times before you cleared off, and somehow I'm here anyway, so…"
"I don't know," her eyebrows came high, "maybe I enjoyed watching you bungle your way through a conversation."
Hiccup was relieved. "Good, because that happens a lot."
"And you bring the cat."
Toothless had actually been sitting relatively quietly, allowing Hiccup to hold him by the harness, but his scarred glare was fixed on the woman's face.
"Sorry. He kinda muscles his way in whenever. You know, he's not actually as evil—he can be kinda cute sometimes."
"It looks like he confuses you with a scratching post."
Hiccup laughed, then let go of the harness to scratch Toothless the spot above his tail. It was the sweet spot: the cat stretched out his neck and back, climbing forward on the railing with his front paws and chewing at the air. He looked, in all honesty, ridiculous.
"See, hold out your hand now," he said.
When Hiccup glanced up her arms were still crossed. But after a moment she stuck out her arm, fingers curled inward to a loose fist. The long sleeve of her hoodie fell down past her palm. As soon as her hand was close enough Toothless pushed each cheek against her knuckles in two quick dashes.
Hiccup let out a little breath because no blood was drawn in that encounter, and stopped scratching above the cat's tail. Toothless settled his butt down again, chest expanding in begrudging purrs. Then he raised a forepaw.
She snapped her hand back. "Sorry," she said, with an embarrassed laugh. "It's just—"
"Yeah," said Hiccup, picking up the cat by his harness, "I get it, creepy warcat." Also, Toothless was in all likelihood about to bat at her hand, because that was the type of thing Toothless did. Right now he was still scrabbling up Hiccup's chest with his single back leg, and Hiccup bent his head to allow him to settle across the back of his neck as always. "Anyhow, so, you know how it goes, cousin stole my lunch money and stuff—"
This managed to secure a laugh, and she stepped forward to grab his wrist and start walking them down the length of the pier.
Somewhat encouraged by this, and making sure to grab Toothless with his other hand, Hiccup continued, "But, after parking I managed to hold onto almost twenty whole dollars, so we can get like a hot dog, or we can hit the ferris wheel, but not both." He considered. "Well, you can do both, but I'd be kind of humming awkwardly on the sidelines…"
She shook her head, still grinning. "Come on, you idiot," she said, pulling him toward the ticket line.
"So what do you do, when you're not running seven miles a day?"
She aimed a curious look at him, then faced forward. "I have a degree in business econ. I give tennis lessons sometimes."
"You play tennis?"
"Yeah."
There was another pause, in which Hiccup was attentive to the fact that she was still holding his wrist with a loose hand. He didn't know what to do with his arm, or his hand; he ended up holding it a few inches outward of his side, and tried not to focus on fiddling with his fingers.
When she didn't elaborate, Hiccup glanced over, and her gaze was scanning over the crowd.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"Yeah, I like it a lot."
He nodded slowly, adjusting his grip on Toothless' harness, trying to figure out of she was naturally taciturn, or if she was doing this on purpose.
"You any good?" he ventured.
"Yeah, usually."
And that was that.
"Sorry, that's as specific as I get when it comes to… sports," Hiccup said. "The only other thing I know is that UCLA sucks."
She turned her head very slowly at him, and let go of his wrist.
"You got your degree there, didn't you," he said.
"I sure did," she said.
"Crap. Can I reiterate that I know nothing about sports?"
"You went to USC? Really?"
"Going." Hiccup pulled Toothless off his shoulder. "Listen, I hope this isn't a dealbreaker."
"I don't know, I think we've crossed that line." She planted her hands on her hips.
"If it means anything, I'm not an undergrad."
"Why would that mean anything?"
"I don't have that undergrad zeal?"
"Like I do, you mean?"
"Wow, I did not say that. Do this with your arms?" With the arm that wasn't holding Toothless, Hiccup demonstrated by laying flat a forearm.
Frowning, lips curving with suspicious scorn, she did so.
Hiccup deposited Toothless onto her outstretched arms and went to pay for their tickets.
When he got back she was wide-eyed and hadn't altered her stance a bit. Toothless himself looked a little strained with his legs splayed out, toes spread wide.
"Sorry, she wouldn't have sold me tickets if she saw Tooth," Hiccup said with a smirk, taking the cat back.
Somewhat self-consciously she straightened her sleeves.
As they began to amble toward the ferris wheel line, Toothless gratefully perched on his shoulder, three sets of claws intermittently flexing with the sway of Hiccup's step.
"I guess he's not so bad," she finally said, finger winding around the end of her braid.
"Nah. You were right about the scratching post thing though."
"And the LA versus SC thing."
"Right. Of course."
"So what are you gonna do about the warcat?" she asked as they waited in the ferris wheel line, nodding to the ticket-taker at the entrance.
"I'd rather you call Toothless by his name, Not-Snot," Hiccup said pointedly.
"What are you gonna do about him?"
"I don't know yet," said Hiccup, "technically he's not allowed on the pier at all."
"Yes," she said, "I know this."
"Right. You bring Stormfly with you every day? When you run?"
"Usually. She keeps people from talking to me. I don't stop on the pier though."
"Do you find it weird that I know your dog's name before I know yours?"
"Nope." She looked sideways at him. "You talk an awful lot."
"I'll shut up, if you want me to."
"I'll keep that in mind." She grinned up at him, and Hiccup grinned back.
When warmth rushed up his neck he looked down. He managed to hide most of his flush by Toothless switching shoulders, necessitating a little help on Hiccup's part.
"So? You said you're in a grad program?" There was a nudge in his side.
Hiccup looked up again. "Yeah," he stammered. "Master of planning. Not—scheming, like city planning."
He caught her amused look, that he felt the need to clarify this.
Sighing at himself, he added, "It's actually not that interesting to talk about."
"I was a business economics major. Try me."
"You want me to bore you? Let me tell you all about this class I took last semester. The first thing you need to know is that it has data and statistics in the title…"
Over the noise of the nearby rollercoaster, they talked a little about the overlap in their respective degrees. She seemed smart, if not exactly ecstatic about what she chose to study. When he asked she just shrugged and said she picked it because she thought it would remain relevant.
"All right," said Hiccup, as they stepped up next in line. He gave the ride tickets to her. "Just hand him the tickets and keep walking."
"What're you gonna say about the cat?" she hissed.
"I'm not gonna say anything, and then hopefully he won't either."
"That doesn't make any—"
"Our turn, come on."
After a second Hiccup heard her catch up, tossing a glare in his direction as she thrust the pair of tickets at the employee's chest.
They had just stepped inside the barrier when Hiccup heard, "Dude, you can't bring that cat in here."
Luckily, he had a backup plan for this. To keep her moving he hooked his arm around her—carefully mid-back—and called over his shoulder, "Seeing eye cat! We'll be okay."
The carriages weren't traditional benches, but instead were more like those one would find in a parachute, hanging from the wheel frame by their multicolored umbrellas. They shut themselves in one, and once the ferris wheel started moving, she asked, "Did that really just work?"
"I guess so," Hiccup laughed.
As the roller coaster roared by again, Toothless sprang from Hiccup's shoulder to one of the outside benches.
"Don't climb too much, cat," he warned. Toothless blinked at him then seemed to make a point of trying to perch up on the ledge.
Since it was plastic and slippery, Hiccup couldn't allow this. Toothless meowed scratchily when Hiccup caught him around the belly and pinned him to his chest as he sat down himself.
When he looked up she was standing in the light, because life had to remind him that she was so completely out of his league. Her eyes were so big and vivid, her hair intensified by the sunset. Why had he suggested the ferris wheel again? Didn't ferris wheels come with expectations? Like better bring your game, type of thing? Well, if things went according to pattern, this was about to be a big swing and a miss.
Hiccup looked down at his cat. Toothless blinked back up at him.
Why are you here? Hiccup thought.
Toothless meowed, and Hiccup sighed, tugging the cat off his chest to the sound of tearing threads, and placing him on the floor.
"Um," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "Will you sit?" The bench went all the way around the carriage, so she had plenty of options, but he scooted over a little anyway.
She was regarding him like she didn't know whether she wanted to roll her eyes or smile, and kinda ended up doing both as she lowered into the seat next to him.
She boasted a stark sock tan line; her legs were a deep tan, but her feet and ankles were nearly white. She wore slightly tattered black flip-flops and the nail polish on her toes was chipped and blue.
"Can we talk about the elephant in the room here?"
Hiccup froze. Which elephant was she referring to? The cat? The fake foot? The implications of being alone on a ferris wheel at sunset? That he still didn't know what to call her? Had she caught him taking the opportunity to glance down her legs?
What was she talking about here exactly?
"Ahh," was his intelligent reply.
She pulled a leg up to sit facing him on the bench. Swallowing dryly, Hiccup focused on her face. Which. It wasn't like that was a punishment. Freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, easy to see in the late light.
By his feet, Toothless meowed again.
They both looked in his direction, then back at each other.
"Can you just tell me what happened to the damn cat already," she said.
Grinning, Hiccup drummed his fingers in the empty space between them, and after a moment Toothless was there, pushing against his hand. "What do you wanna know about him?" he asked as Toothless sprung upon his shoulder and perched his forepaws atop Hiccup's head.
"Did you teach him to—crawl all over you like that?"
After giving Toothless a long-suffering look, Hiccup pulled him back down to his lap. "Nah, he's pretty much done this since the beginning. I think he thinks that's what people are there for."
"He's pretty good at it." She had an elbow propped up over the side of the carriage, leaning her head against her fist. They were above the horizon now.
Knowing what she was referring to, Hiccup ran his fingers over Toothless' left leg, which ended well above the knee. "Yeah," he said, "he can still do ledges, and leap and stuff. And then he's got his traction." He mimicked claws with his hand. "Runs kinda funny though."
A corner of her mouth pulled up for a second, then her eyelids dropped as she considered the cat. "What happened to him, then?"
"He came like this," he said, running a thumb over a torn black ear.
"So the shelter didn't know?"
"What," Hiccup sniggered, "he's not a shelter cat. Or if he was he fought his way out."
An edge of a smile appeared at her lips. "You're telling me you picked him off the street?"
"Not even close, Not-Snot."
Her head lifted and her face crunched, then she jabbed him in the shoulder with her fist.
At the same time Toothless meowed again, pushing a paw against Hiccup's stomach.
"What is with you two!" Hiccup demanded. "I only call you that in lieu of anything better."
"No, just tell me already."
"If you don't guess it in three tries, I will," Hiccup promised.
She narrowed her eyes. He wondered if she was going to punch him again, and found he wouldn't mind. It might give him an excuse to grab her hand, if anything.
"Okay," she finally said, "but I've already used one of my guesses."
"That's fair."
"Please don't say your cousin gave him to you."
Hiccup shook his head, smirking, nudging Toothless off his stomach again. "One more guess."
Her expression morphed from consternated, to exasperated, to slightly determined, her fist falling to rest on the railing by his shoulder.
Hiccup gave her an innocent, encouraging smile.
Deepening her frown for a second, she said, "A pack of feral dogs ambushed you in a dark alley and he came to your rescue?"
A laugh broke out of him. "Wow, you impressed her, buddy," he told Toothless, who meowed again and caught at his wrist with a paw when Hiccup tried to ruffle his ears. "That is actually pretty close to the truth."
"Really?" Her face brightened, and Hiccup twisted to face her a little better.
"If you replace dark alley with the kitchen in my old apartment, and rescuing me from a pack of feral dogs with attacking my head while I was trying to figure out what to eat for breakfast, then yeah, you're close."
"How is that close at all," she said.
"You got the ambushing part right."
The last thing he expected was for her to relent to a round of unrefined giggling. But that was what she did, the even posture falling out of her spine and shoulders.
"Where did he—" she finally managed to gasp.
"The refrigerator."
"He was in the refrigerator?"
"God! No! He was hiding behind the cereal boxes on top of it! Why do—why do you always assume the worst of me?" He shot her a frown when she began to laugh again, but in truth he was savoring the sound, her loose expression, the speckling of freckles across her chest, and she was wearing a red tank top under that bulky hoodie, and the orange fanny pack was just kinda there, and stop checking her out, he ordered himself.
Luckily for him, she didn't notice, still taking a couple deep breaths to get herself under control. Toothless also chose this moment to climb up Hiccup's chest, meowing straight in his face.
"What?" Hiccup threw his head back in exasperation. "What, cat, what is it that you want. Oh crap." He patted his pockets. "What time is it?"
"Past seven, why."
When Hiccup looked over she was leaning her head in her hand again, watching him with a neutral expression that was nevertheless intriguing. "Nothing, it's just—" He rolled his eyes at himself. "Forgot to feed him, you know," he muttered.
He heard her light sigh, matching Hiccup's own mood; he stroked down the length of Toothless' back a few times, trying to distract him. It wouldn't work though. Cat got progressively more annoying and fast, once he realized he was hungry.
From next to him came the sound of a tap-tap-tapping of something against metal, and Toothless sprang off his chest.
"Did you actually—"
She had actually just pulled a cat can, one of the small ones, out of, yes, out of her fanny pack. Holy god. Dumbfounded, he watched as Toothless bounced over to her lap and perched his front paws on the hand that was trying to open the can.
"I can't open it if you do that," she said seriously.
See, Tooth, Hiccup still had the wherewithal to think smugly. She says it too.
Toothless meowed his impatience. She managed to pull the top off and set the can on the bench behind her. Tail askew but as high in the air as possible, he instantly set about licking the gravy off the top.
"Don't look so surprised," she snapped, and Hiccup held his hands up. "I made a stop at the Shell Station, what's the big deal."
"I'm actually not surprised in the slightest," Hiccup lied. When he chanced a look he had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from smiling because she looked so disgruntled. "That's 'cause I already knew you were nice."
She scoffed aloud and Hiccup nodded, pretty pleased with himself. Or just pleased in general. At the peaceful sound of the cat purring into his food, Hiccup shifted his seat to look over the back, staring at the sunset. Too bad it was still too bright outside for them to turn on the dancing neon lights that crawled up the railing of the giant wheel. On the other hand, the light notes of sunset couldn't be beat. They were high enough at this point that Hiccup could barely hear the rollercoaster, and wind pulled through the open carriage. The view from this point, of the ocean, of the beach, of the pier, of the sky, was incredible.
What the hell was he doing, thinking about the view?
Giving his head a little shake, he turned back, saying, "Um." He had forgotten, partially, that she sat facing him. The set in her blue eyes was… ineffable, so he flitted his gaze down to the fingers that she curled around her ankle. The red nail polish was also chipped, like the blue polish on her toenails.
Hiccup wondered if he could pull off grabbing her hand without having it look like he was trying to cop a feel.
Focused on this for a moment, he was surprised when he felt her other hand grasp at his shoulder. And when he looked up questioningly she tugged him down to a kiss.
For a couple long seconds Hiccup couldn't react, not even to close his eyes, although she closed hers on the way in. Her mouth was fixed and firm, not moving, unwavering. He could see the individual hairs in her eyebrows. A rush of breath, hers, swept down his upper lip, cooling to brush at his chin.
When he felt her tweak his bottom lip between both her own, Hiccup closed his eyes and dipped his head further to press against her. His hand came up to finally, finally, feel what her hair felt like under his fingers.
But he didn't get the chance. As soon as he started pulling his weight in this kiss, she slipped her head back and straightened to sit forward, giving him her profile. Caught unawares, he sagged forward, managing to stay himself inches from her shoulder.
Okay, Hiccup thought. Or maybe he said it aloud, because she glanced down at him then looked determinedly away again. Color rushed high up the side of her face, that or the pink light of the sun made it look that way, and her braid appeared even more touchable from this vantage point. She also smelled incredible. As if before leaving home she had bounced her hoodie with three or four dryer sheets.
Hiccup was also fairly certain, at this point, that she would let him hold her hand. Grinning up at her, he sat up to mimic her straight-forward sitting position, and filed this information away for later.
Next she dragged him down to the beach, not dragged exactly, but in any case she went and Hiccup followed. When he caught up with her at the bottom of the stairs, stepping onto soft sand, she was taking off her flip-flops and tucking them into the belt of her fanny pack.
Hiccup did not comment.
"Will the water be all right?" she asked when she was done.
"Yeah, he's actually pretty good with water. He even tolerates baths." When she squinted at him, he added, "I mean I don't want to take him swimming, but he'll walk with us." He took a step deeper down the beach, feeling a relief and warmth when she followed, strolling along at his pace.
"I was actually asking about you."
"Oh." Hiccup looked around when he saw her hand in his peripheral, but she was just letting Toothless sniff her finger. He felt a scrabbling at his right collarbone and automatically helped Toothless to stand. "Yeah, it's fine. My last one used to float, but this one—oh no, Toothless—"
Hiccup was too late. Toothless leapt.
Lucky her hoodie was so thick, because he landed on her upper arm and clung like a leech.
She lurched sideways a few steps. "Oh my god, why is—"
"I am so sorry—"
By this time Toothless had reached her shoulder and was putting a curious paw into the hood.
Hiccup rolled his eyes, then approached to try to help. She was both trying to slant her head away while at the same time craning it around to retain a glimpse of the cat, resulting in leaning sideways so far Hiccup was surprised she didn't fall over.
"He's not the kind of cat that chews hair, is he?" she asked in an urgent tone.
That was an oddly specific question.
"No, I already said he doesn't bite," said Hiccup, trying not to laugh as he stepped behind her. "You can stand straight, he's just trying to get into your hood."
"Why?" she asked, cautiously standing.
Hiccup tried to delicately pick the cat's claws out of the fabric. "Again, he thinks they're there for him. Like a cat pocket." From this angle he only saw her smile in the rounding of her cheekbone, and he gave Toothless a dirty look as he set the cat in the sand. "Go on, you can walk a while," he told him. "Lazy animal."
"I think you're supposed to have a leash," she said as they resumed walking a diagonal line toward the waves.
"Yeah, well," was all Hiccup could think, watching Toothless dart ahead of them.
Brushing away her bangs and straightening the blue hoodie, she tilted her head to regard him. "So your old leg used to float, huh?"
"Right." They had been talking about that. Hiccup stuck his hands in his pockets and considered his leg, from the black knee brace that covered the socket, to the flesh-matched calf and foot. Ending in, of course, the velcro strap sandal. "They're hollow, you see, but this one has these really small holes 'cause it's actually more of a fabric—" He glanced over to see if her eyes were glazing over, but she perked her eyebrows at him. So jerking his view back forward he went on, "Ah," but had forgotten where he was.
"How do you get the water out?" she asked.
"Drains out the ankle," he said proudly, holding the leg up for a moment as he took a step, then plopping it back into the sand to keep stride with her.
He looked over to catch the tail end of a nod, then she opened her mouth and hesitated.
"You can ask," Hiccup said.
"It's just," she said, "you haven't brought it up at all."
"I know. It's not a story I break out that often."
"It's okay if you don't wanna talk about it."
"It's not even that." Hiccup hesitated, peering ahead to see Toothless' silhouette already dashing at the waveline. Then he faced he expression. For the first time her eyebrows were slanting the other direction, pulling up at the inside. Too bad he was about to ruin it. "It's 'cause it makes me look really stupid."
Her sympathetic look vanished, and she lifted her eyes at the sky. "Now I almost don't wanna know."
"I jumped out of a tree."
Letting out a slow sigh, she glared into the distance, again like she was trying not to give in. But of course she had to. "Why did you jump out of a tree, Hiccup."
It was the first time she'd used his name since their encounter at the beach, and Hiccup grinned down at her. "Well Not-Snot, the foremost reason is I thought the pond would be deep enough."
This enticed another ring of laughter, which he listened to for a tick before saying, "I can't believe you're laughing at my misfortune."
"You set it up that way!" she defended, shoving his shoulder.
Hiccup stumbled, exaggerating it a little. "And now you're pushing me! Careful, or Toothless will come back over here."
"You're ridiculous," she grinned, "there's more to that story."
There was. But Hiccup cut it short. "Fractured my leg obviously. They set it, but a bone infection cropped up afterward, so," he made a guillotine motion with his hand.
"How old were you?"
"I don't know, high school. One of the summer breaks. I think it was just before sophomore year, but." He shrugged. "Anyhow. What about you?"
"I don't have a story that measures up to that," she said with a short laugh.
"I'm sure you do."
"Not one I can think of off the bat."
"Well then start with something easy," Hiccup said.
They reached the waves, but the water was no more than an inch deep as it rushed up among Hiccup's sandals, then to her feet. Toothless was a little ahead of them, bopping around the angle of water and watching it very carefully.
Each step sucked his sandals a little into wet sand, but it was a common misconception that velcro didn't work when wet, so Hiccup left them on to prove a point. Also, it was a little true that there was no graceful way to take off a velcro strap sandal.
"Like what?"
Hiccup was not going to ask her name again. That would be too easy, and she was having far too much fun with that. "Well, for one, you never quite answered my question on what you do in your spare time."
"Well—" she wavered. "I work out. Like go to the gym and stuff."
Hiccup paused. Who was this person? "For fun? On top of running like five miles a day and playing—"
"They have a rock climbing wall." She looked him up and down, arms swinging by her sides. "You know, you could probably do it."
"Rock climbing?" Hiccup took a hand out of his pocket to pull at the hair at the nape of his neck. "Jeez, I don't know."
"It's fake rock climbing. You should try."
They walked a stretch of wave, intermittently splashing water in front of them.
"I will," Hiccup said finally. "If you promise to laugh at me the entire time."
"Oh, that was happening anyway."
Hiccup shot her a small smile, idled a bit on her profile, and had an errant thought that if this all turned out to be a very detailed dream he was gonna be so mad.
"Okay, now tell me something else," he said.
"Good grief, you never do stop, do you?" she blurted, exasperated.
"Nope. You haven't actually told me to shut up yet," he reminded her. In truth, Hiccup didn't know what he was looking for. Which shows did Netflix recommend to her? What kind of people were her friends? Could she take the sweatshirt off? No. Not that last one. "There must be one thing in this world you like that's non-exercisey."
"My dog."
"Besides her."
She made a noise of disdain and frosted a deep glare straight through him, but Hiccup refused to drop it.
Finally, swiveling her head forward, she said, "Well… I do make this one cocktail. It's really good."
"Really," Hiccup said, not expecting this. He glanced forward to watch where he was going and make sure the cat was still in sight, which he was, leaping out of a foaming sheet of saltwater as it receded back into the sand, then back to her again. "So what's in it?"
"You can't tell anyone."
Hiccup zipped his lips shut with his fingers.
"All right." She scrunched her nose at him in final warning, which didn't quite have the same edge as her chilly glare. "So you start with a half can of gingerale."
"Okay."
"Two shots of rum."
"Sounds good so far."
"Then a shot of pineapple juice."
"… Okay."
"A dash of Kahlua."
Hiccup bit his lip. "Sure, why not."
"Some grenadine." At his look: "You know, for the coloring."
"Right. The coloring. That's important."
She frowned at him, as if trying to see if he was messing with her. To be honest, Hiccup wasn't sure if she wasn't messing with him. She seemed pretty serious. And proud.
And she wasn't done.
"You pour it all over two cubes of ice—"
"Exactly two?
"Exactly two."
"Exactly how big are these ice cubes?"
"They're regular ice cubes!" she snapped. "Okay, so two cubes of ice. After you do that"—Hiccup raised his eyebrows—"you do the whip-cream cone-topping thing, and then, I don't know. Slice up whatever fruit in your fridge that's about to go bad, and toss it in there."
Hiccup couldn't speak for a moment. The first mistake he would not make was to offer to try it sometime.
"What's it called?" he managed to choke out, and cleared his throat.
"The Adder," she proclaimed, using her hands to stretch out a headline in the air in front of her.
"Sounds"—poisonous—"deadly."
"It'll fuck you up," she agreed, "but you don't even taste the liquor, I swear. You should try it sometime."
"I may have to," said Hiccup hollowly.
For a minute or two they walked along, watching Toothless crouch into a stalk as the simmering edges of a wave approached, bat at it until it surrounded all three feet, then recoil back onto dry sand. The sun was orange and nearly touched the ocean.
When he next glanced over she had a small smile on the side of the face that Hiccup could see, and he reached over and plucked her hand away from her side.
"Listen," he said, interlacing their fingers. Surprise alighted her eyes, then narrowed into something deft when he stepped toward her. "On the ride back home, before you, you know," his other hand hesitated a second at her braid, "you texted me, and I—" Hiccup made a vague twirling motion with his hand, then he picked the plait up, pulling his thumb and index finger over the silky, solid weave, his gaze flitting ever so often to her face to check how she was taking this.
He caught her eyes slide down momentarily to his fingers before blinking away.
"Well, I found myself thinking a lot," Hiccup said very seriously.
"Yeah?" she asked, raising her chin a hair. It was more challenging, than inviting.
Still intertwined with her other hand, Hiccup squeezed her fingers briefly. Lowering his sight and trying not to grin too much, Hiccup dropped her braid in order to lightly touch the zipper of the bright orange pouch she strapped around her hips.
Then he looked her in the eye, and said, "I really think I've come around on the whole idea of fanny packs."
She blinked once, then her mouth fell open. "You're so full of—" and she punched him again on the shoulder, in the fleshy spot under his collarbone.
Laughing, he caught her fist and held it there. "I'm being serious, as soon as I manage to get through my door, I'm getting on Amazon."
"Shut up."
"Hold on a second." Hiccup had to get this out. "They're so convenient. Like a detachable pocket. If you promise not to punch me again I'll get my phone out and order one right now."
Her mouth was tight, but in a way he was starting to associate with her trying to hold in a smile. Hopefully. He hoped that was what it was, and let go of her closed fist.
Quirking her eyebrows, she stepped away.
"Wait wait wait," Hiccup tugged her back by the tips of his fingers, assuring, "I'm shutting up."
"Pardon me for not believing you."
He managed to retain a light grip on her hand. Eyes flickering over every detail of her face before the sun disappeared—the way her bangs tickled her eyelashes, the soft point of her chin—Hiccup gave her an apologetic grimace. And his free hand reached up to push his thumb along her jawline.
A smile tugged loose at her lips, and Hiccup bent down to kiss it, settling his palm into the hollow under her jaw. Now properly expecting it, he stepped closer, trying to remember where her feet were so as to not trod at them, and successful in this, slid his fingers into the smooth, loose hair at the nape of her neck. He pulled away from her lips to rest his forehead on hers, only to switch to the other side of her nose. The new position of his hand allowed him to pull her up to his mouth again, shifting after a moment to capture her bottom lip instead.
Whoever she was, she tasted like salt.
There was a sharp scrape of nails down his throat, then he felt fingers close around his shirt collar and pull. Enthralled with the noise she made under his mouth, and realizing he had a hand empty, he closed it blindly around her, sort of hoping he'd miss and get a little too low. The bulk of her sweatshirt made it almost too difficult to tell, but after tightening his grip he felt the evidence of the hard planes of her back.
Her other hand tingled up his chest, up the side of his neck, to fist a handful of hair. Hiccup humphed at the sharp sting, only to feel the dig of teeth into his bottom lip. The hand roaming across her back managed to find the outline of a hip.
Her fanny pack was definitely in the way, a hard lump between them, not even the embarrassing kind either. Hiccup couldn't help it and let out a voiceless laugh against her lips. All he heard was a quick inhale of breath, and then both of her arms hooked around his neck.
He closed his mouth against hers one more time before desnaring his fingers from her hair, brushing them down her neck to rest lightly atop her shoulder. Calling upon every modicum of self-control he possessed, Hiccup managed to pull back from her lips. With her hold around his neck he wasn't able to go far. Far enough to open his eyes, not far enough for his gaze to not rest immediately upon her mouth.
"It would be very stupid of me," Hiccup said, swallowing to try to regain his voice, "to kiss some strange girl a third time without getting her name."
"Uh-huh," she said. He felt a leg snake behind his. His good one. He had the feeling she wasn't getting the point, and that very soon, he'd stop caring about it himself. "You do some really stupid things," she murmured, letting go of him briefly to push her braid behind her shoulder.
"I do," Hiccup agreed, skimming his gaze down the line of her newly exposed neck. Peeking from under her sweatshirt was the severe, wide-strapped sports bra tanline. Hiccup pulled his attention away from this and braced his hand against her hip, and said, "I'm really trying to get better about that."
Then Hiccup pointedly nudged her backwards.
The affront on her face was almost worth it. But as soon as he stepped away from the warmth of her body, and her arms unlocked from around his neck, he regretted this line of action entirely. It did, however, give him a chance to cast his gaze around for Toothless, who was closer than he expected, settled above the tideline and looking like he needed a nap. Luckily the beach was basically empty. What time was it, at this point? It was very nearly dark. Hiccup pulled his phone out of his pocket. Past eight.
And over a hundred yards away, on Hiccup's right side, Santa Monica pier burst into prism of color.
"Give me your phone, Hiccup," she said. Her voice was grumpy and she was looking somewhere to his left, but her palm was held out between them.
Hiccup smiled brightly, made sure his screen was unlocked, and plopped it into her hand.
Stepping close to his side, at which point he could feel the glance of her hair against his cheek, she sidled a hand up his chest as she went through his contacts. Hiccup forced himself to simply hover, breath disturbing flyaways by her temple, wondering where he was gonna kiss her once he finally knew what in the hell her name was. That sports bra tanline kept coming to mind.
There was the pressure of her leg against the back of his calf again.
Her thumb rubbed a spot in the middle of his chest.
The water swelled around their ankles.
And when she shoved, he tripped over her foot and toppled backwards into the water.
Hiccup surfaced and the wave receded, and the first thing he noticed was her high laughter, with too much of an edge of cackle to qualify as giggling. Shaking hair and water out of his eyes, he spotted her nearly doubled over. She was distracted enough that he managed to fasten a hand around her ankle, prepared to give her the same treatment.
Her braid swung forward between them. "I have both the phones," she reminded.
Still holding her ankle when the next wave swept in, Hiccup considered going for it anyway. "I can't associate you with my cousin forever."
Even though, oddly enough, he had Snot to thank for a good deal of this.
"I already put my name in your phone, idiot." She held out her free hand. "If you stand up you can see for yourself."
Hiccup narrowed his eyes, but grasped her hand, almost falling over again with the speed with which she pulled him to his feet. Foot.
"Can we take this to dry land?" Wringing water out of his T-shirt and shaking his head at her, Hiccup began the trek out of the clinging waves. Once clear he tapped his finger briefly against his thigh. Toothless stood and began his hop-step over, although it was a fifty-fifty chance, depending on how tired he was, that he'd tolerate being under Hiccup's dripping hair.
"Here you go," she said brightly, holding his phone out.
Hiccup looked down at his dripping hands. His first instinct was to wipe his hands on his shirt.
Since he had no other real option and, okay, since he didn't really have an actual excuse but he wanted to do it, Hiccup dried his hands on the bottom corner of her long hoodie. His eyes never left her face. Then he plucked his phone from her hands, though he had no where to conceivably put it. "So what is your name?" he asked.
"Aren't you going to check for yourself?"
"What is it?" he asked again.
"That's good, I actually didn't have enough time to change it in your phone."
Hiccup rolled his eyes, and played with the zipper of her hoodie. "It is good," he finally agreed.
Toothless took that moment to arrive; Hiccup felt the claws in lower back, then the quick scramble up to his shoulder. Cat seemed annoyed at the evidence that there was not a dry place to put his paws, and lay as a tight ball on Hiccup's shoulder, putting his butt by Hiccup's ear. Of course.
Out of the edge of his eye he caught the movement of a head shake. "Now that's just cruel."
"I know," said Hiccup, "he—"
But she was raising her eyebrow at Hiccup.
"Me! Who pushed who into the water? I don't see you offering—why, are you offering to take him?"
The silence was telling enough.
Hiccup grinned when she crossed her arms, peering at Toothless to scratch him behind an ear. "I don't know, I don't let just anyone hold my cat."
"Astrid."
Hiccup looked over. "Astrid," he repeated.
Astrid gave a short nod, like she was expecting him to say something.
What was she expecting him to say? He called himself Hiccup. And Astrid was at least ten thousand times better than any other name ever. His name didn't even belong in the same sentence, frankly. Seriously, she must actually think the worst of him or something.
"I like it," he said, trying to reign in the superlative so she would believe him. He bobbed his shoulder. "You wanna ride with Astrid, boy?"
Toothless didn't answer.
Stopping himself from putting his phone in his pocket, Hiccup picked Tooth up one-handed and gestured Astrid closer. Toothless scrambled only a little when he was lowered onto her shoulder, then made a beeline for the hood.
The hoodie was so loose on her that with the cat as a counterweight the hood dangled midback.
God, Toothless was such a pain sometimes.
"Just leave it," she shrugged, the movement drawing attention to an X-shaped tanline in the center of her upper back. "He'll be all right."
"You should at least zip it," Hiccup said, coming around front to pull the lapels of hoodie together, so she could get the zipper. He ended up stowing his phone in her hoodie pocket. "It'll help. Because now you gotta walk me back to my car, Astrid."
Afterward Hiccup wished he had volunteered for the zipping, because when Astrid did it, it was so slowly. He almost couldn't watch. By the time that she settled the tab at the top, his grip on her sweatshirt was very tight indeed. He made a conscious effort to let go, plucking at it to adjust the way it settled on her shoulders.
Finally, he pulled her braid from beneath the neck of her hood, taking care not to catch it on the zipper. There was a sort of lazy half-grin on Astrid's face, and her hand came up to capture his chin.
"I'm really sorry I didn't text you back a year ago, Astrid," Hiccup said.
Her nod was one part sympathetic, two parts distracted, and her mouth definitely tasted sharply of salt now.
Between them, in the fanny pack, her phone buzzed.
"Ignore that," he murmured against her lips.
But her phone buzzed again.
"Ugh," Astrid said, pushing his face away, "this might be important."
He could only wait so patiently as she unzipped her fanny pack then stared blankly for long moments at the bright light of her phone screen. "So was it important?"
Astrid's eyes slid up to his face. Then, very deliberately, they slid all the way back down. As a sense of mounting horror engulfed his every nerve, she handed him her phone and said, "You tell me, I guess."
Hiccup recognized a picture of Hookfang and almost didn't want to look any further.
His cousin had lasted all of a few hours before breaking his promise. It was actually an improvement.
At least, Hiccup thought that, until he read the text Snot had sent:
hey if your a doctor hics got a lump he needs an opinion on
peace S
And as Hiccup was wondering how to recover from this, four more came in, one right after the other:
ps hicc the condom in youre walet, i took it from u like 1 year ago idk if u noticed?
just helpin a bro out
peace
S
Nevermind. Hiccup totally retracted what he thought earlier. He owed Snot nothing for anything.
"What else does it say?"
"Um," Hiccup cleared his throat, "it says, can I please delete at least the first one before I tell you."
Astrid snatched her phone back.
Then she laughed.
Hiccup sighed.
Her face turned serious. "But you don't have a l—?"
He was already shaking his head, thinking, oh my god.
"Because if you do, you should probably get it—"
"What—?" Hiccup floundered. Why did people keep saying this to him today? How did this even come up in the first place? "No, there's no lump, okay, and at this specific point in time everyone will just have to take my word for this, like what d'you want, a p—" Do not say picture.
"A what, Hiccup?" Astrid asked sweetly.
Rubbing a palm over his face, Hiccup opened his mouth, then closed it, wondering what he could possibly say. "Can I start over again?"
"Show me to your car." Astrid shook her head and bit a laugh, adjusting her sweatshirt where Toothless lay like a backpack. "I'll give you a pass."
x