#i got inspirations from a fav fanfic of mine and totally just copy and pasted most parts cuz i am not a good writer lemme tell ya

[fabllama02]

[ a concept where the dragon riders are a group of elites that are globally known. some are assassins, business people, noteworthy icons of some type. i have decided to make Hiccup the son of a CEO, building his own inventions and stuff that surprised the world. Jackson is a normal city boi with a demanding lifestyle, trying to help his family’s shortage in money. Jackson met them all in college, he is one of their dorm mates. they all grew fond of having him around and already considered him a part of their group. he also happens to have a job working in Hiccup’s father’s company, making it available for them all to see him often. Jack is a smart boi but he in a poor family. blablabla- HERE WE GO!] 

The bell above the door jingled as it was pushed open. The restaurant inside was small - tables cluttered together, the walls damp and the air heavy - and empty, no customers so late into the night. Still, the newcomers crowded the front entrance.

 The waiter before them stared, glasses slipping down his nose, before narrowing his golden amber eyes. “Get the heck out.”

 “’Heck’”, Tuffnut said, eyeing Jackson’s attire with raised brows. “Wow. And look at your little waiter get up! Isn’t he adorable?”

 “The cutest,” Heather agreed.

 “Out,” Jackson repeated, as he tried to bustle his gathered friends out the door with sweeping hand gestures. They were broader and taller than him - Snotlout wearing his discreet lifts - and refused to be budged.

 Snotlout looked at Jackson with raised eyebrows, his smile like a shark’s. “You’re going to throw out paying customers? For shame, Frosty.”

 “Peri?” Jackson tried weakly, turning to the only responsible person among the group.

 “Sorry, Jackson,” Periwinkle said, offering an apologetic smile. She was dressed in a pristine blazer and pencil skirt, her heels towering, an Ipad tucked under her arm. She stood out against the greying walls of the rundown restaurant.

 “Please?” Jackson asked, glancing backward at the kitchen. “ My manager’s going to come back any moment and flip the heck out.”

 “Adorable,” Ruffnut repeated his twin.

 “Who says we’re here for you, you narcissist?” Snotlout said, and pointedly ignored the knowing looks everyone shot him. “Maybe we just want to eat here. Just because we’re you’re friends doesn’t mean you get to throw us out. Don’t discriminate.”

 Jackson gave him a flat look. “This place is a dump, and you lived in an ivory tower with shimmering glasses, Snothat.”

 Snotlout snapped his finger, pointing at Jackson. “See? Discrimination!”

 “We’re here to help,” Hiccup interrupted. “Honestly, Jack. Nothing funny.”

 Jackson’s eyes went a little wide, realisation a punch to the gut. “This is a flipping recruitment drive, isn’t it…?”

 They smiled at him - Snotlout with a promising smirk, Hiccup tight-lipped and apologetic for what was about to happen - but before they could answer, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Jackson’s boss strode out.

 “Jackson,” his manager snapped, scrubbing a hand through his thinning hair. The man always became more irritated in the late hours of the night. “Don’t just fucking stand there looking pretty. If we ain’t got customers, take your pert ass outisde and wash some fucking dishes -”

 “Sorry, Mr. Walter,” Jackson said dully. He was exhausted - this was his second shift of the day, the other at his first job at the daycare - and powerless in this situation. He knew from experience he couldn’t reply to his boss without being threatened with unemployment.

 Walter stopped mid-step, beady eyes blown wide. The very recognizable group of people, crowded in the doorway of their empty, dirty restaurant, stared back at him. Hiccup’s jaw tightened, and Astrid was frowning at Walter. Periwinkle had pulled out her Ipad, and was tapping at it, fingers flying, wearing an expression like cold steel.

 Heather grinned, her smile sharp, and waved at the manager. “Good evening.”

 Walter made a strangled sound.

 “Sorry, sir,” Jackson said again. “They were just leaving-”

 “Come on now Jack,” Hiccup said, stepping forward. Before, he’d stood at the back, and appeared as though he was only there to keep an eye on his friends’ schemes. Now, gaze fixed on Jackson’s boss, Hiccup was stepping into a more active role. “There’s no need for that.” His frown dropped into a  soft and comforting smile when looking at Jackson; an attempt at reassurance. “We’d just like a good sit down meal.”

 Walter seemed to shake himself, before positively beaming.

 “Mr. Haddock, of course, anything for our VIPs,” he simpered. He motioned the group towards the largest table in the restaurant, bodily shoving Jackson out of the way as he went. “I’m sorry about my waiter, he’s a little slow. Very incompetent.”

 Jackson stumbled back, blinking wide eyes. His manager was larger than him, portly with broad shoulders and wide hands. Jackson often had to let the older man push him around. Fishlegs shot him a sympathetic look.

 The group took their seats at the long table. Walter pulled Heather’s seat out for her, and she managed a passable smile as she sat down.

 Walter clapped his hands together, teeth bared in a smile, and continued, “It’s such a privilege to have our note-worthy city icons in my restaurant. We’re all big fans, big fans - aren’t we, Jackson?”

 “Oh,” Jackson said. Tuffnut, perched in the closest seat, tipped his head back and smirked up at him. “Oh y-yeah. I’m a big fan of them. The biggest.”

Tuffnut’s smirk grew wider. Jackson fought to keep his features professional blank. The manager ignored Jackson’s stumbled words, and rushed towards the kitchen to talk to the cook.

 “Hand out the menus,” Walter ordered, pointing a stubby, threatening finger at Jackson, “and take their orders. Whatever they want, they can have, got it?”

 “But-”

 Walter stopped. He retracted his steps, until he was inches away from Jackson’s tense form. “You screw this up, and you’re fucking fired, you hear me?” It was obvious Walter was trying to keep his voice down, but the people sat nearby were trained asassins and business-people trained to hear the whispered threats of those around them. It was obvious they heard Walter by the way their hands balled into taunt fists, lips dipping into frowns.

 Jackson exhaled roughly, and nodded. His cheeks were burning. “Yessir.”

 “Good. I know you’re usually useless, but try for once not to be the colossal fuck-up that you are. Get this fucking right.”

 With that, Walter disappeared into the kitchen. Jackson was left in the middle of the restaurant in faded jeans and canvas shoes full of holes, a faded apron tied around his waist. His friends sat behind him, staring at him. He felt cut open, exposed; his friends only ever saw Jackson in his ever present bright smiles and cheery laughter. They never saw the small, real-life version of Jackson Overland.

 Jackson took a deep, grounding breath. He swallowed down his humiliation and collected the stack of paper menus.

 “Welcome to the J&K’s Grill,” Jackson said. He focused on handing out the menus and keeping his tone flat. His hands sometimes shook when he was anxious. He didn’t need that to happen now; he was humiliated enough as it was. “Tonight’s specials are a pork roast with potatoes, or a pasta-”

 Fishlegs snagged his sleeve as Jackson began to draw back, stilling the younger man. “Jackson,” Fishlegs said.

 Jackson shook out of his friend’s grip, and stepped back, suddenly exhausted. “Why are you guys-” He cut himself off with a frustrated huff, scrubbing a hand through his messy mop of brown hair. “Can you guys just - just please leave?”

 No dice, apparently. Tuffnut and Ruffnut didn’t so much as blink. Astrid folded her arms, face disapproving, a pose often dug out when Astrid was talking with an especially frustrating reporters and members of the public. Snotlout was staring at the kitchen’s closed door with unrepentant disgust.

 “What a complete-” Snotlout began. He made another gesture towards the kitchen, lip curled.

 “Agreed,” Heather said.

 “Fishlegs,” is all Hiccup said, his eyes narrowed.

 “Fired, arrested, or funds depleted?” Fishlegs asked, looking through the Ipad Periwinkle had handed over to him. “ I can have his possessions seized, as well. He seems to enjoy tax evasion-”

 “What if I dropped him off a really, really tall building,” Snotlout said. “The corpse would be unrecognisable. Just a smear on the sidewalk.”

 Astrid made a soft, considering ‘hmm’ sound. At Snotlout’s words, Tuffnut and Ruffnut turned to one another, twin smirks blooming.

 “No,” Jackson said. His voice was firmer than he felt.

 “If he lost his job and all of his funds,” Heather said, “he’d have a motive to jump, police won’t even look twice-”

 “Oh, my GOD,” Jackson said, throwing the remaining paper menus on the table. He frowned at the group. They didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. “You aren’t killing my boss. What the heck? Some of you are role models! Your faces are plastered on national TV, can you please stop discussing murder casually around the dinner table?”

 Half of them opened their mouths to rebuke him, but Walter chose that moment to reappear from the kitchens, overly polite smile stretched across his face.

 “How are my favourite customers, huh? Jackson, you taken their orders yet?”

 “Not yet, sir,” Jackson said.

 “Well, you folks are lucky, one of our specials tonight is mushroom pasta. You tell ‘em about the mushroom pasta?” As Walter spoke, he elbowed Jackson in the side several times with especially sharp elbows. “Eh, Jackson?”

 “Not yet, sir.”

 “Well, our mushroom pasta’s the greatest,” Walter told the group. Periwinkle had looked up from her Ipad, and was looking at him with a pinched expression, like he was the most annoying person she’d come across. It was a feeling Jackson could relate to. “Ain’t it, Jackson?”

 Internally, Jackson was screaming. Internally, his arms were flung wide open, his head tipped back, and he was shrieking up at the ceiling.

 Externally, Jackson said, strained, “I love mushroom pasta.”

 That made the group of elites wrestle down knowing grins, hiding laughter behind discreet coughs.

 Movie nights had always been a sacred, bonding ritual for them. The dozen or so of them would ambush a poor restaurant and order food from them till they’re out of business (while leaving an outrageously large tip) or - more commonly - raid the industrial fridge for ingredients and proceeds to help Jackson out in the kitchen when he cooks some of the best food this side of the city. Jackson had spent many nights and even mornings leaning heavily on Hiccup, too full to move, dozing off to a low playing movie and the sound of chatting.

 It’s some of Jackson’s fondest memories.

 However, Jackson was also a young growing teenager with an abnormaly low metabolism and a demanding life style and not enough money. When he was around that much free food, he sometimes overacted. As in, ‘shoveling pizza slices heaped with friend rice and dripping mushroom pasta into his mouth’ overact.

 That had made his friends laugh at the time. Now, they smirk a little, remembering how Jackson had looked, sweaty hair mused and dozing off after another attempt at shoveling another plate despite his already full state.

 “Of course you do!” Walter laughed, one hand on his meaty belly. His other hands rested on the back of Hiccup’s chair, as the manager grinned at the CEO in supposed solidarity, and said, “I reckon, why pay the help in cash when they’re just as happy with greasy leftovers? It’s probably worth more than their paycheques, anyhow!”

 Walter laughed once more, expecting Hiccup - a man firmly within the 1% - to laugh with him. Hiccup managed a forced kind of chuckle. At his side, Astrid was cracking the edge of the table with her white knuckled grip.

 “You folks enjoy the food,” Walter told them, cheeks flushed with mirth. He clapped Hiccup’s chair once for good measure, nudged Jackson with clumsy strenght, and retreated once more to the kitchen. “Ask Jackson for anything you need! Ha, it’s the only thing he’s good for, anywho!”

 In the ensuing silence, all eyes gravitated once more to Jackson.

 “Now can you all leave? Now that you’re gotten your fill of humiliating me.”

 “Jackson,” Periwinkle said softly, “you don’t have to work here.”

 “She’s right, you’ve already worked so many jobs, I already saw you this afternoon working in a cafe,” Hiccup chimed in. Jackson looked away promptly, fighting against the flutter in his chest. This was the man who had taken over his father’s position as the CEO and single-handedly won the world’s attention with his latest inventions. This man is also, currently, his boyfriend and the love of his life. Jackson didn’t want to be a burden and ask Hiccup for some money to help him pay bills that he could probably do so himself. He wanted to be able to help his own family proudly. “You should be going to an ivory league university at the very least. And don’t try and tell me you can’t afford it - I’ve seen your grades. You could win a scholarship easily.”

 Jackson shook his head. “I don’t have the time,” he said, voice unenthusiastic and heavy with fatigue. This was a topic he’d discussed with himself before, mostly in the dark of the night, when he stumbled home to his waiting mom in the living room. Waiting with a tired smile and a cup of hot chocolate, informing that his little sister had waited past her bedtime and is sleeping upstairs. His exhaustion was pressing and he had work in mere hours. When Jackson felt like he was more tiredness than person.

 It was Astrid that leant forward. “You don’t have to spend so much time in my uncle’s vet helping the animals on top of being in the day care, caring for the kids. We’re more than willing to help set out some sort of roster so you don’t have to be in there 24/7-”

 “What?” Jackson said. “Are you crazy? I’m not there 24/7. No one could be. I don’t have time because I work three jobs on top of looking after my family.”

 There was silence along the table. Snotlout’s eyebrows rose. “Why the hell would you-?”

 “Because I’m not a billionaire, and I have my own rent and my mom’s mortgage and her medical bills. Car repairs, electricity, food - it all adds up.”

 Jackson straightened. The cuffs of his jeans ended above his ankles, and the hem of his over-the-thumb sleeves were fraying, but his stance was proud. He’d struggled, had to work himself into an exhausted state, to keep a roof above their heads. Sure, sometimes that meant working until he couldn’t see straight, or use his entire paycheque to pay bills and have to resort to living on buttered bread and too many glasses of water for the rest of the week…

 But, Jackson was proud of his hard work. He doesn’t have to be a member of an elite, globally renown group of people to be proud of the life he’s built up for himself.

 Snotlout opened his mouth to reply, but Heather kicked him under the table. The man yelped, shooting the woman a betrayed look, as Astrid smoothly cut in, “We know, you do what you have to survive. That’s admirable, Jackson.”

 “You don’t have to do all this,” Periwinkle said, gesturing at the grimy restaurant, the grease stained apron tied around Jackson’s waist, the faded paper menus. “As our fellow co-worker and honorary member, you’d be able to spend your time doing something worthwhile.”

 “We have health insurance, too,” Hiccup said. “And dental.”

 Jackson laughed, the sound quiet, a little raw. “I’ve never had dental before.”

 A startlingly familiar mischievous smile unfurled on Hiccup’s lips. “We could set your family up somewhere nice, too,” Hiccup planned. “Better health services and security, ooh, you’d move into the tower, I could build a new room for both of us right at the penthouse-”

 “W-what?” Jackson stuttered, looking around confused. A bit thrown off.

 The others all grinned and rolled their eyes.

 “Geez, what a way to ask someone to marry you.” Snotlout huffed with a disappointed shake of his head.

 Heather gave him a side-eye. “You asked me to marry you after I beat you at Mario Kart.”

 Snotlout nodded, “Valid. And you accepted.”

She gave him a peck on the cheek, “That I did.”

 Astrid had to look away with a shudder. “I still can’t believe they’re together. Even if I called it.”

 Jackson looked back at an approaching Hiccup, wide eyed and a little flustered. “Hiccup?”

 Hiccup gently took Jackson’s hands which was trembling a little bit. He carressed it softly before looking determinedly at livid liquid amber that he had loved so much. “Jackson. I know this isn’t what you expected nor is it probably an appropriate place or timing…”

 He sighed, looking away with a heavy blush staining his cheeks, “but I’ve been thinking about it.”

 Once more, vivid green eyes meet golden amber eyes. “Ever since I first met you in college, when I was stressing out about my dad’s decision to train me into a CEO for his company and you came into our dorm room as a new roommate with a bright smile and didn’t hesitate to help me out, despite not knowing who I was. Giving me the strenght I needed to accept my new position, unknowingly standing beside me as someone who could bear the brunt; as my equal. Someone who had accepted me for all that I am. Someone who has stayed by my side in all the time that I was lost and unsure, you had been there for me. Ever present and ready to catch me if I ever fall. At some point, I realized… that I’ve fallen in love with you.” Hiccup lifted his left hand and carressed the side of Jackson’s face, catching the tears that are falling as he continued. “I fell in love with you and no one else.”

 “So, will you, Jackson Overland, be my forever,” he lifted Jackson’s right hand and kissed it, staring straight at the watery liquid amber with a fond look, “and live the rest of your life with me?”

 Jackson, understandably, looked overwhelmed yet his teary expression gave away his euphoric state of mind. “I-I-!” He began before he was cut off.

 The kitchen door burst open, and Walter bustled in, a jug of water and ice cubes held in meaty hands. “Who’s hungry, ay?”, Jackson swivelled back at Walter, hands still clutched tightly in Hiccup’s grip.

 Walter put the jug aside and busied himself, fiddling with the half melted candles and salt and pepper shakers sat in the middle of the long table. His sweat was beading at his temples, but his too large smile remained as he straightened cutlery at their elbows. Yet, none of them paid the manager any attention.

 “Aw man, what timing!” Snotlout huffed angrily, wiping away stray tears. The others all nodded with barely restrained anger. Some wiping away stray tears and some are left with sniffles.

 “Jackson, cups!” Walter snapped which the others bristle at.

 But Jackson, hands still held tight in Hiccup’s grip, was too stunned to move or process anything. Mind spinning and making him dizzy. The day’s exhaustion starting to eat away his remaining energy and leaving him poofed. Hence, the barely controlled crying.

 Walter looked up when his call wasn’t heeded. Seeing the image before him, he narrowed his eyes, undoubtedly thinking the worst of his waiter.

 “What’s going on?” Walter demanded, squinting suspiciously. “Is my good-for-nothing waiter annoying you? Jackson, I swear to god-”

 Again, they ignored him. Snotlout looked to Jackson, and said, “The tallest building. The biggest. I can lift Fishlegs, it’d be no problem to drag him up there and then just accidentally drop-”

 “No, Snotlout,” Jackson said. Looking fairly exhausted yet his smile is wide. His chest feeling warm.

 “Jackson?” Hiccup prompted.

 “I-” Jackson glanced around at the expectant faces before looking back at intense green eyes. He swallowed, and looked at the floor, embarassed, his smile shy. “I’d like that actually.”

 Astrid fully stood up. Walter stumbled back several paces in surprise. “Is that a yes?” asked the blond haired woman.

 Jackson swallowed again before looking straight at Hiccup. “It’s a yes.”

 A roaring cheer erupted from the group, as they jumped up, swarming around the two. Arms wrapped around him, hands reaching over to ruffle his hair, legs banging into his as Jackson was swallowed up by a nest of excited limbs.

 “Guys, guys! Woah!” Jackson stumbled under his friends’ combined happiness, but he was laughing with them, head tipping back to wipe away his tears. “Hard to breathe under all this!”

 “Welcome to the family, Jackson,” Snotlout said. He was leaning against Heather, wearing his own proud smirk.

 “Finally,” Tuffnut corrected, arm thrown over Jackson’s shoulders. “Finally welcome to the family. Took Hiccup long enough to finally propose.”

 “By the way, Stoick’s been waiting for you to finally call him ‘dad’ officially and legally.” Astrid shakes her head.

 “He’s been waiting to embrace you into his family since you came into the tower after all of Hiccup’s gushing and love-struck state in his own house. When he was properly introduced to you, I swear, he has stars in his eyes.” Heather agreed.

 They all chuckled at that, remembering how Stoick had been. All excited and happy that his son had finally brought someone home. It’s not a secret that Stoick had grown an attachment to the boy ever since he laid his eyes on him.

 They were gathered around him in a loose circle, Jackson cocooned in their shared laughter, their boodies pressed against his. He felt breathless under the combined celebratory high. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

 Subsequent responsibility was important, and would always be a vital part of Jackson’s life, but he had reached a point where he was drowning under it. Life would always be a battle to swim upstream, Jackson knew, but if there was a way to make it a little easier, let people into his life, let them carry him a little further, then it wasn’t a crime to let them.

 And Hiccup was willing to provide him with a lot of care and support, even if Jackson never wanted to burden him.

 A cry interrupted them, “Pursue legal action?! Excuse me? You can’t do that-!”

 Jackson came crashing down from his high. Right, his boss. He’d forgotten.

 Hiccup and Periwinkle stood in front of the sweaty man, twin glares focused on him.

 “For professional misconduct, tax evasion, and the unlawful treatment of your waitstaff, I think I can,” Periwinkle said. Her eyes were like ice.

 Jackson wriggled out of his friends’ grip. Walter frowned when he saw him, gesturing at the two before him. “Jackson, tell them I’m a good boss. Tell them how good I am!”

 Hiccup stood up and blocked Walter’s view of his beloved. “Leave him alone,” Hiccup growled. Jackson hadn’t heard him sound that angry outside of stare-downs with frustrating business people.

 “He’s a good boss,” Jackson agreed. Hiccup’s mouth fell open, surprised, ready to rebuke the younger man, but Jackson just shook his head. “Alright, no, he’s not a good boss, but c’mon, Hiccup. Let’s just -  go. Don’t you wanna discuss our wedding plans?”

 Jackson was in the process of pulling Hiccup back towards their waiting friends, when Walter snarled, “Wedding plans…! You’re one of those freaks, aren’t you, Jackson? A gay marriage- oh, my god, did you trick Mr. Haddock? What did you do to seduce him- wave your pert ass around-”

 Astrid, her eyes like ice, straightened her cream blazer and walked over to Walter. Immediately, she stomped on Walter’s foot with her heel.

 Walter leapt back, howling. Heather, as quiet and deadly as she is, appeared right behind him and grabbed his two arms before flinging him over her shoulders with practiced ease.  

 Walter let out a wail before he was silenced by the two women’s piercing glares.

 Hiccup leant against the lip of the long table, casually crossing his legs and surveying the reddening manager before him with a hard look. Like what his father taught him, he began.

 “If you want to keep you job, Mr. Walter,” Hiccup said easily, handing out threats like tips, “keep your mouth shut. If you want to ever be employed in the country again, you’ll pretend that we never even stepped foot into this restaurant. If you don’t want all of your funds and possessions to be seized, you’ll forget you ever met a Jackson Overland.”

 “You- You can’t just-” Walter spluttered.

 “You’ll find that I can,” Hiccup said, “but I’m a fair man. Periwinkle.”

 Periwinkle was already typing something into her Ipad. “How’s a quarter of a million, donated anonymously into his accounts?”

 Walter’s eyes went wide. Hiccup met his gaze calmly, his eyes like steel, a reminisce to how Stoick dealt with uncooperative business people. “Remember exactly what I just said.”

 “Jackson Overland?” Walter said quickly. “Who?”

 HIccup snorted; the greed of men had ceased to surprise him. “Good man.”

 “I still think we should’ve gone with that tall building,” Tuffnut said, ignoring Jackson’s pointed frown.

 Hiccup walked towards them and pulled Jackson to him before intertwining their fingers together. He looked at Jackson tenderly,“Home?”

 Jackson smiled softly before standing on his tip-toes to give Hiccup a kiss, “Home.”