a/n: Written in 2010. Set a few days after the movie, when they're still settling down.
Hiccup wakes to the sound of his roof caving in over his head and panics, rolling off the mattress with his limbs all tangled up in the sheets. He hits the floor with a solid and painful thunk, realizes his death is imminent, and goes limp, squeezing his eyes shut to wait for the end. Because, hey, if he's going to kick the bucket now, he might as well go out with some dignity. (Or at least as much dignity as he can manage; dying swathed in a cocoon of blankets isn't really his idea of a noble death.)
He cracks an eye open an eternity later, cricks his neck to survey the room, then bangs his head against the ground in frustration. Ow. "That was a perfect way to begin the day," he says.
From the other side of the room, Toothless blinks at him and sheepishly sweeps all of Hiccup's scattered pots, pans, and tools behind his back with his tail. There's a crater in the wall where the fireplace used to stand, and Toothless looks like he can't for the life of him figure out what happened to it.
Hiccup can only guess, but he's got a pretty good idea. He glares at Toothless. Toothless pointedly glares at the now-nonexistent fireplace like it offended him in some other life and huffs.
"All right, all right, I'll let it go," Hiccup says and sets about trying to free himself from his sheets.
He hears the intake of breath a split-second before he realizes what's going to happen and then all he can feel is scorching, scorching heat.
"Oh, you stupid dragon," he says, afterwards, picking at the crumbling remains of the blanket. The bed beside him is a pile of smoking timber.
Toothless manages to look a little guilty this time, but mostly pleased. Hiccup rolls his eyes. This is going to be a painfully long day, he thinks, and smiles helplessly into the impending disaster.