Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.
From a post on Tumblr by iggycat: "Someone needs to write a 'the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear' AU"
The noise was like a thousand soprano jackhammers encircling her bed. Merida ignored it for as long as she could, knowing in her gut that it was just a false alarm, or someone's late-night munchies gone wrong, but eventually she slid from her bed, plucked her mobile from the nightstand, and slipped a pair of still-tied trainers on. Before she locked the door behind her she grabbed the old bathrobe from its peg. It was probably warm enough out that she wouldn't need it, but it was a hand-me-down from her mum, embroidered with Elinor's initials, and Merida loved it. So she belted it securely over the tank top and shorts that served as pajamas and made her way down the stairs, alarm screeching in her ears as she went.
It was warm enough. She could find it in herself—deep, deep down—to be thankful for that small favor as she pushed the sleeves of the robe up to her elbows. The air smelled faintly of the taco truck that had been parked down the street that evening, and her stomach rumbled in response; there was no scent of smoke in the air, though, and no crackling of flames. She yawned hugely and kneaded her stomach, joining her neighbors where they stood across the street from their very much not on fire building. To distract herself from thoughts of carne asada she propped herself against the corner of the nail salon and took roll of her neighbors through gritty eyes.
The blond twins from upstairs were leaning against each other, both half-asleep and drooling. They didn't look singed, but she'd pin the alarm on them before anyone else. Mrs. Lin clutched a big handbag close, looking around warily; Merida saw a little nose poke out before the woman turned away, head bent over the bag. So that was the source of the phantom yipping she sometimes heard on quiet days. Balancing on the edge of the curb was the kid who was always skateboarding, wearing an oversized shirt as usual, and there was the couple who'd just moved in on the third floor, in matching Superman and Wonder Woman pajamas and looking a little embarrassed, and half hidden in the shadows between the nail salon and the check-cashing place, wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxers, was the guy next door. Henryk, she thought his name was, though on more than one occasion she'd heard the twins bellowing out the window at a Hiccup when he was on the sidewalk below.
Out of the corner of her eye she appraised him. His arms were crossed over his stomach, trying to cover more of himself than they possibly could; she got a glimpse of a firm midsection and a light trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. He stood at an angle, hips canted so that his left side fell more deeply into shadow than his right. The whole effect, shadow and shirtlessness, was almost rakish.
She'd always thought he was cute, with his earnest if somewhat distracted air whenever they passed in the hall, and his little smile—hell, she'd admitted as much to her mum, though she'd failed to follow orders and introduce herself like a good neighbor. Now, somehow, with so much more of him revealed, she realized how little about him she knew, and how much she'd like to know. Her hand pressed into her stomach, though it had no effect on the weak fluttering she felt there.
But it was the hair that did her in. His hair was never perfectly coiffed to being with; she remembered seeing him running his hand through it as he sat in the laundry room, a book open in his lap and a pen tapping against his thigh as he waited for a free washing machine. Now it was in an absolute state, sticking up at more angles than even she would have thought possible. It was impossible to perv on someone with adorable hair like that. She bit her lip, just managing to keep the giggle from escaping.
Poor lad, he must've had a worse time with the alarm than she did. There was really no reason for him to be hiding—at least, she saw nothing that he ought to be ashamed of—but he was so obviously uncomfortable. Of their own accord her fingers drummed against her stomach; her eyes fell on them, and the material they thudded over.
She shrugged out of the robe and held it out to him with a soft "Here," able to meet his wide-eyed gaze for only a moment before her eyes flicked away shyly. He looked from her face to the garment and back, and for a moment she thought he'd refuse. Then he reached for it. The worn softness of the fabric slid over her fingertips as he took it; when she looked he was pulling the robe on, and she got one last delicious view of the muscles of his torso at work before they disappeared beneath purple flannel. It fit snugly across the shoulders, but the belt had plenty of slack around his waist. This time she didn't fight the smile, didn't even question the warmth of it.
"Thanks," he said. "I'm Hiccup, by the way."
"Merida." Her smile twitched into a grin as she nodded at the bathrobe. "It suits you."
"Really? I didn't think it was my color." He smoothed down the robe's lapels and shot her a look, one eyebrow cocked in question.
She shook her head. "Nah, it's lovely on you."
The time passed quickly as they talked. A single fire engine arrived to disgorge a few firefighters, who trudged into the building. The alarm finally stopped then, causing Merida to let out a quiet cheer. Soon they were told they could return to their flats; when they reached the seventh floor Hiccup stopped outside her door and removed the robe. "Thanks again," he said as he handed it back to her, that disarming smile on his face and the lazy wheeling of butterflies in her stomach again. Slumped against the door jamb she watched him take the few steps to his own door; he patted his hips, where his pockets would be if he were wearing pants, and she laughed.
She would forever blame the words on sleep deprivation, even when she knew full well that they owed more to the way his shoulders moved and his sleepy little yawn. "If I'd known it was this easy to get you nearly naked I would've pulled the fire alarm ages ago."
He froze with his hand on the doorknob and she had a clear view of the flush creeping up his neck. She felt heat suffuse her cheeks, too, but she didn't take it back. After a pause Hiccup turned to look at her.
"Hey, maybe next time you'll get lucky." He shrugged, and though the little quirk of his lips hinted at self-deprecation, there was a glint in his eyes that was almost keen. Without another word he disappeared into his flat.
Before Merida had the chance to begin to feel disappointed he poked his head back out, and her heart skipped all over again at the sight of his tousled hair. "Or maybe next time…you could just ask."
She grinned. Maybe next time she would.
