Yes, I know that Hiccup is straight. This is just fiction.

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"Yeah, you like that, don't you?"

Harsh hands on his hips, sweaty skin pressed against his back, hot breath on his neck. He could only groan in response.

Then he was moving, fast, hard, pistoning in and out at such a force that Hiccup had to just hold on to the bedsheets and pray he didn't shatter. He could feel sweat beading in his hairline, could hear his own shrill voice ring through the air, strangled, as if his lungs weren't getting enough air.

"-So good for me - you like it rough, don't you? Like it when I pull your hair, baby?"

He punctuated that question with a harsh tug that Hiccup felt all the way down his spine.

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah,"

"Wonder what your tribe would say if they could see you now."

Hiccup groaned again through his teeth, hips surging forward in a desperate chase for friction as he was pounded into, the rasp of a beard scratching against his sensitive shoulder blades.

"Hiccup Haddock. Tamer of Dragons, Conqueror of Hunters, Chief of Berk… lying here like a girl and taking it like a whore."

"Ahhn!"

The thrust was directly aimed at his prostate, and the dichotomy of white-hot shame and spine-tingling pleasure was making him feel sick.

He laughed, giving Hiccup a harsh slap to his rear as he slowed his pace to more deep, languid thrusts that had the young Chief's toes cramping up.

"C'mon, fuck me, please."

His thrusts stayed slow, but Hiccup could tell he was getting desperate. All he could do was clench his teeth, squeeze his eyes shut and drown in the pleasure that assaulted his body.

"I am, Chief." He said, deep and gravelly, before mouthing at the nape of the youngers' neck before catching him under the armpits.

"Want to - to see your face when I - fuck-" He pulled out cleanly, manoeuvring the gangly mass of limbs that was Hiccup onto his back before assaulting his flushed collar bones in nips and bites.

He was inside him in one smooth thrust and Hiccup groaned.

He wrapped his legs around his waist, a waist much thicker and more muscular than his own, undoubtedly masculine yet not bulky in a way that was so common with other Vikings. He was agile, cunning and so powerful, physically bigger than Hiccup in every way.

The young Chief threw an arm over his eyes and grit his teeth, desperate for release and fighting hard not to let a pathetic whine slip from the back of his throat. He didn't need another reason to feel like a woman.

Which he definitely wasn't.

He was a man, through and through, and the only thing that made him lose his mind was other men.

Oh, gods.

He groaned again, deep, from his chest, feeling tears well up from behind closed eyelids as he was slammed into, hard flesh pounding at that place inside him which made stars fly through his consciousness.

"Hiccup."

Hearing his name, (as dumb a name as it was) ground out with such want, such desperation made him whimper; it was pretty rare that he was addressed by his name, but at this time, both tethering on the edge of orgasm, it felt right to hear him say it.

"Haaahhn, oh.."

He breathed out, feeling the wetness behind his closed eyes seep through onto his face, the pit of his stomach burning with the need to release.

His mind briefly registered what he was doing, and he choked on his breath, feeling dirty and guilty. However in this context, body tingling with mind-numbing pleasure, hypersensitive, it only served as the nail in the coffin.

"Oh gods - Dagur!"

And he was gone. He heard himself give a sort of inhuman howl, his body tensing all the way down to his toes, fingers scrambling for purchase somewhere.

This was, like, weeks of pent up arousal. It kept coming and coming and coming (no pun intended), almost painfully ripping its way out of his body, leaving him shaking, panting heavily.

Dagur must have orgasmed somewhere along the line, because when Hiccup came to his senses he was pulling out with a wet sound, and grinning like a snarky little kid who'd just tricked their parents.

"You good?"

Hiccup paused. Was he? Sure, physically he was great, his body felt sated (if a little sore - sitting on Toothless was gonna be hell later). But he felt - wrong. That feeling where you're on the edge of tears for no reason, trying to keep them in, then someone asks if you're alright and it's like the dam just breaks.

He shook his head, and Dagur's face softened.

"Hey."

His voice was just so calm and gentle, and fuck, Hiccup was crying.

"Hey. Hiccup, look at me."

There was a rough hand under his chin, ever-so gently tilting his head upwards. For such a macho-man, Dagur's eyes were so soft and expressive. Big, green, framed by pretty, curly red eyelashes that matched his fiery hair, normally narrowed in menace. They'd lost there deranged glint to them over the years, and right now were looking at Hiccup with large amounts of worry. He looked softer, more boyish like this.

Gods, if he could just stop crying!

But it seemed the other man knew exactly what to do, because suddenly Hiccup was being engulfed by the warmest, most tender hug he could ever ask for. He hadn't had one of these since...well, since before his dad…

No one tended to hug a Chief. Understandably.

It was like they'd forgotten that Dagur had literally fucked him off the edge of the earth not even minutes ago.

Hiccup's face was pressed against a firm, muscled chest (not soft, this wasn't Astrid. That just made his stomach sink even more.)

"Oh, Dagur, fuck." He spluttered, and suddenly he was sobbing, like a fucking baby. His mind (un)helpfully wondered back to his tribe, innocently believing that Hiccup was away on important business. And Astrid, awaiting his return so they could fuck and have babies

"I-I can't, Dagur."

"I know, sweetheart."

There was a hand in his hair, and it was so good that Hiccup could only snivel and wrinkle his nose to stop himself from literally breaking down.

Dagur held him for a while. It was noticeably colder by the time Hiccup but on his big-boy pants (metaphorically - they were both still butt-naked) and managed to find the will to push him away.

Suddenly, he was looking at Hiccup with soft adoration in his eyes, and fuck, this wasn't the plan. At all.

It was just their - arrangement, because funnily enough, when Hiccup started to become sexually active and found out that being with Astrid in that way was making him, ah, underperform, Dagur was the first (and only. He wasn't actually a slut) guy he turned to.

It was just casual sex, just something to take the edge off. It also helped, to a certain extent, back on Berk; All it took was for Astrid to accidentally press on the extensive bruises on his hips and Hiccup was hard as Gronkle-iron.

But now, with his face in Dagur's hands, the older man swiping the pads of his thumbs delicately under his eyes, he felt his lashes flutter, his heart beating like a trapped bird in his chest.

A warm kiss was pressed to the corner of his mouth, and Hiccup kept his eyes closed. If he opened them, the spell would break, the illusion would be gone.

He sniffled uncontrollably, the tail end of his tears coming back, it seemed.

"C'mon now, Chief. Don't cry,"

His words were teasing, but his voice was soft, so soft, a low murmur, and Hiccup pursed his mouth, lips pressed together tightly to stop himself from whimpering.

Then he realised he was tired, desperately tired, and cold, and hungry.

He sighed.

Well, it was now or never.

He was greeted with Dagur's painfully earnest face, honest and open, and that face split into a toothy grin as their eyes met.

"There you are, good boy. Ready to come down?"

Hiccup nodded, shivering slightly from both the cold, and 'good boy.' That always did weird things to him.

Dagur exclaimed loudly, bashing the side of his own head with his first.

"Duh, stupid Dagur! You must be cold. And hungry, too? I bet you're hungry as - hey, it's dark. You staying the night?"

The spell was, in fact, officially broken. Dagur suddenly was leaping around, chucking Hiccup a wad of sheep fur to wrap around himself, getting started on a fire, all well doing a ridiculous dance and singing: 'Hungry hungry Hiccup, hungry Hiccup!'

Hiccup just gave a defeated laugh.

That's all he could do.

Later that evening, Dagur helped Hiccup saddle Toothless up.

It was intimate, which was dumb, seeing as a couple hours earlier the older man had buried his cock, like, up to Hiccup's stomach.

But somehow, their hands brushing slightly as they manoeuvred the leather over a sleepy Toothless, this made Hiccup flush.

"You wanna tell me what had you so worked up earlier?"

He paused, lips quirking upwards.

"And no, not that kind of worked up: get your mind out of the gutter."

Hiccup snorted, smiling unashamedly. It fell off his face a second later.

"I just… I feel so shitty."

There was a pregnant silence. Then, Dagur sighed.

"I feel for you. It's not...it's not exactly ideal."

"I'm lying, Dagur! I'm lying to everyone. I'm lying to - to her. And I love her so much, I just can't, I don't-"

"Not in that way, Hiccup, we've discussed this."

Hiccup gave a groan of frustration.

"I know that, Dagur. I'm still hurting her! I don't wanna hurt anyone I love, it 'don't matter if I..."

Dagur looked at him, head tilted.

"Shit, this is really eating away at you. Hiccup, there's no pressure from my end. If you want to stop this, all of this, all you have to do is tell me."

And that was it. It was his fault. There was no one to blame but himself. Dagur was doing this to help him, not out of his own personal gain. Sure, he must have got some enjoyment out of it, but without Hiccup, the Berserker would probably just find another man to fuck.

"I know. I know, I just, it - helps me. But I don't, I hate that I'm, cheating on her. I just can't… it's like trying to have sex with my sister."

He wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah, Dagur, imagine that. You - with, with Heather."

"Wooaa-okay, Hiccup old pal. That's an image I didn't need, thank you very much. But I get it, babe. You're a homosexual."

Hiccup furrowed his brows at that.

"Like, a faggot? That's, that's bad, right? Oh Gods, Dagur, what's wrong with me?"

Dagur looked at him curiously.

"Who, who told you that? It doesn't matter, no, Hiccup, you really think it's something to be ashamed of?"

Hiccup flushed.

"Whatever. I just - I've gotta go, Dag."

Despite saying this, he lingered, unable to bring himself to get on Toothless. His stump ached, and he just wanted to sleep.

But he was a Chief. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Dagur must have noticed his reluctance, because he gave a little chuckle (that had Hiccup's stomach doing weird things) and stepped forward.

He pressed their foreheads together, hand cupping Hiccup's right cheek.

"Hey there," he breathed and Hiccup rolled his eyes, but couldn't help huffing out a laugh.

"Hi, Dagur."

Then, they were kissing. It was sweet, innocent, reminding Hiccup of that time, almost 7 years ago, when Astrid had pressed a shy kiss against his cheek, in that magical cove.

He didn't want to think of that.

When they pulled away, Dagur's sharp eyes roamed his face, and he took a large step back. He was still grinning, but there was a shift.

Hiccup turned, mechanically, and sat himself atop Toothless, who was watching him curiously with his large, cat-like eyes.

"Bye, Dagur. I'll, I'll see you later? Like, uhhh, I don't know, you'll know, I guess, because I'll.."

He was stuttering, feeling like a dumb 14 year old and not a Chief who tamed dragons.

Thankfully, it seemed Dagur was feeling merciful.

"See you around, Dragon Boy. Keep your ass safe, it's too pretty to get hurt."

Hiccup flushed, glaring at him.

"Fuck you, man."

Toothless gave two great flaps of his wings, and they were up, the wind cold against the tear tracks on his face.

"Maybe later, Chief!"

Dagur's voice carried through the night air like a knife through butter, and Hiccup smiled, giving him a jolty wave as they ascended higher and higher.

He kept waving until his hand cramped up, and Dagur was long out of sight.

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If you read this far you probably liked it. This is a reupload from AO3 from Galacticspaceboi. Go over there and leave him some Kudos! :)