A prompt from anon on tumblr asking for "a cute hiccstrid Christmas/Christmas Eve fluff involving preg!strid, who's expecting to deliver sometime after New Years"

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays : 3

"What?"

"Nothing," Hiccup grins. "Just you."

Astrid snorts and pushes herself up to lean her head on her husband's shoulder as they lay together on the bed, bellies full after a Christmas dinner, or rather a feast, at Hiccup's father.

"What does 'you' mean, huh?"

"You means you, obviously," he replies, twiddling with a loose strand of Astrid's hair. He yelps when she swats him on the arm.

"You're insufferable," she concludes before groaning, her hand sliding over her stomach.

"Let me?" Hiccup cocks one of his eyebrows before rubbing her wife's pregnant belly. A smile stretches across his face when something bumps against his inner palm. "He's moving a lot tonight."

"I think you mean 'every day'," Astrid is quick to reply with a roll of her eyes. "He can't stay in one position for more than five minutes. Like father, like son."

Hiccup tries to pout but he knows she's not going to buy it even for a second. Instead he pecks her nose, enjoying a brief but utterly adorable look of surprise crossing her face. She's quick to return his gesture, leaving a slower kiss on his cheek before settling in at the crane of his neck.

"Wouldn't it be cool," Hiccup muses out-loud, his fingers drawing aimless patterns on her stomach, smile a bit wider every time his son moves. "if he was born today? On Christmas Day?"

"Don't," Astrid shoves a finger into his face. "Don't even suggest that. He's not coming out a day before New Year."

"Think about it - we could save up on birthday presents. Two in one."

"And, just like that, you became the cheapest dad in the whole universe," Astrid smiles, draping an arm over his chest and closing her eyes.

"Wha- I did not."

"Did too," she laughs. "But, let's be honest, if anyone is going to spoil our child rotten it will be you," she pauses. "Second to your dad, actually."

Hiccup snorts having in mind a stack of baby stuff that has gotten under the Christmas Tree as a gift from Stoick the Vast. Their nursery is drowning in cute onesies and, weirdly enough – or perhaps not, wooden ducks, personally carved by the proud to-be-grandfather.

Hiccup is personally a little scared of them.

"We'll need to sort that all out," he says as he rubs his chin absently.

"Mh-mmm."

"He's going to be traumatized from the start if he has so many ducks at once."

No reply. He looks over his shoulder.

"And you fell asleep, haven't you?" He gets a small snore in response and he can't help but grin. Immobilized, he tries to pull the blanket up to cover her. She releases a small hum in content, snuggling in closer. Her hair tickles his neck and he leans down to press a kiss to her crown. Their son taps his foot.

He's one lucky man. He smiles.