And you thought last time was long…
00000
Astrid drops the tray on her bedside table and flops back onto her bed indignantly, slightly soothed when both Spike and Toothless climb up beside her and curl comfortingly on either side of her waist. She glares one last time at the closed door across the hallway, as if an angry stare would pry it open. After a moment of trying to mentally set the wood on fire, her phone finds its way into her hand and she dials Ruff, only realizing that she's huffing rather loudly to herself when she holds the phone to her ear and the static echos in her own deadened speaker.
"Hello?" Ruff picks up, unusually chipper, and Astrid almost regrets the tirade that might be about to worsen her best friend's day.
"Hiccup's door is locked," she starts, immediately feeling more than a little insane and backtracking. "Actually, I was trying to bring him breakfast, and when I knocked on his door he got up and locked it."
There. Now her indignation is properly explained.
"Maybe he was watching something weird," Ruff suggests with a chuckle and Astrid rolls her eyes, refusing to cool off.
"I don't care," she scowls at the ceiling, wrapping a possessive arm around Toothless's neck and letting him lick the underside of her chin with a warm syrupy tongue. "He's...he's never literally locked me out before."
"What if he's busy?"
"He'd still want breakfast."
"What if he already ate?" Ruff checks, and Astrid is sure that at this point her friend is just messing with her.
"He hasn't been to the kitchen. The only time I've seen him this morning was when he let Toothless out and asked me to feed him." Astrid frowns. "You know, in hindsight that 'thank you' is sounding a lot more like sarcasm."
"It was probably sarcasm," Ruff affirms. "Have you told him that you're coming back up tomorrow?"
"No," Astrid grumbles guiltily. "Why do you always turn this stuff around on me?"
"It calms you down," Ruff answers, and Astrid can practically hear her shrug.
"And I thought he'd be downright chipper after last night," Astrid glowers, that horrible jealousy bubbling in her chest.
"What happened last night?" Ruff asks, interest piqued by Astrid's dark tone. She sets down whatever she was doing with a click and Astrid sighs.
"Nothing...Just a stupid bet with Thuggory."
"That's the engineer guy who dribbles Scott, right?" Ruff checks and Astrid barks out a humorless laugh at that first meeting.
"Yeah, that's the one."
"So were you betting on how far Hiccup could get one-legged or something? Because even my devious mind can't come up with anything that you could bet about that would infuriate Hiccup into locking his breakfast out."
"And me," Astrid adds.
"Fine, his breakfast and the person with his breakfast. In this case you."
"It was a bet on whether Hiccup could pick up more girls that Thuggory could or not," Astrid explains and Ruff answers with an extended silence. "Are you going to comment on that? Or have I finally silenced you?"
"Next you're going to tell me that you three went to a bar and watched Hiccup waltz around charming women."
"Pretty much," Astrid admits quietly, tapping her heel against the woolen throw at the foot of her bed. "And I wasn't inside, because I didn't have my ID, but from what I heard, Hiccup had absolutely no issue and there was almost a lapdance involved…"
"Hiccup almost gave some chick a lapdance?" Ruff crows, laughing loudly enough that Astrid holds the phone away from her face. Ruff shouts the news across the room to someone behind her, presumably Fishlegs if the confused 'What?' is any indication.
"No, Hiccup didn't give someone a lapdance," Astrid scowls at that insinuation. "Someone almost gave him one."
"He didn't stick around for a lapdance?"
"I'm glad he didn't," Astrid sneers, looking around her room and trying to consolidate her earlier anger with this almost overwhelming smallness. "But...some chick offered him one, and he got some girl's number, and now he's locking me out."
"Are you jealous?" Ruffnut asks the obvious question and Astrid scoffs, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Because it sounds like you're jealous. Plus, what are you doing making him breakfast if you aren't jealous?"
"What does me being jealous have to do with breakfast?"
"You're trying to seem like a perfect girlfriend," Ruff explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world and Astrid sighs, flinching as Spike's comforting lick almost enters her mouth.
"I didn't really give him a choice," Astrid admits sullenly, drumming her fingers on Toothless's ribcage. "And I know that he hates places like that. He practically has a self-imposed eight o'clock curfew on weekends. I just…it was going to feel so good to win something, and winning ended up entailing Hiccup showing up with some other girl's number on his hand."
The following silence is anything but comforting.
"Have you told him that?" Ruff asks almost gently before laughing. "Because all I'm getting out of this is that Hiccup has a bedtime."
"No, I haven't told him that."
"You seem to be keeping quite a few secrets," Ruff points out and Astrid rolls her eyes.
"You've been dating Fishlegs for four years and he doesn't know that you hate apples," Astrid accuses, rolling her eyes and listening to Ruff mutedly asking Fishlegs if he heard that.
"It's a texture thing, and it's not-me hating apples is beside the point," Ruff mumbles the word like she's discussing an affair and continues in an outwardly brash voice. "I'm picking you up tomorrow, and Hiccup doesn't know yet. When are you going to tell him?"
"Oh, that's exactly it!" Astrid snarks. "I'll just walk over-no hobble over-to his door and tell him that I'm leaving tomorrow and that I'm meeting with Nike and that it's absolutely certain I'll be running again soon."
"Does he not want you running?" Ruff spits the question, and it's the first time Astrid has ever really gotten the feeling that her friend doubts the continuity of her relationship. It makes Astrid defensive and she sets her jaw, earning a worried lick on the neck from Spike.
"He wants me to wait seven weeks like my doctor said."
"Nike won't wait that long," Ruff reminds her, as if she really needed reminding and Astrid growls.
"I know that."
"Hiccup is never going to get that you need running." And it's hammering some doubt in the back of Astrid's mind into place, as that easily overlooked athletic rift between them suddenly gapes like the grand canyon.
"He just wants me to be...safe."
Astrid doesn't want to be safe.
"He loves you," Ruff advises simplistically and a grudging smile finds its way to Astrid's lips. "But you can't let that slow you down."
"I'm not. I already said I'm coming up tomorrow, assuming you're not bailing on me."
"Good," Ruff smiles around the word, and Astrid hears her get up and walk out of a door, closing it behind her and continuing in an alarmingly too loud voice, all things considered. "So, please tell me that some kinky anger sex at least happened after Hiccup spent the night picking up chicks."
"No. No kinky angry sex happened," Astrid rolls her eyes and stares at that mockingly closed door, hoping that maybe if Hiccup does hear her, he'll at least come out. "Because he's mad at me, as we established. Not to mention he went and found a bunch of obviously willing women who aren't wearing massive knee braces."
"Come on, that brace doesn't have to slow you down," Ruff insists and Astrid rolls her eyes.
"Believe it or not, not being able to bend my knee is in fact slowing me down sexually. That's sort of crucial."
"No it's not," Ruff scoffs, and Astrid wonders where she is. Probably walking through the middle of campus practically shouting about hot angry sex and scaring the freshmen. "Just like...hmm, backwards parallel camel?"
"Is that supposed to be English?" Astrid asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"It's like...well, your foot is in the air-I can't believe you don't know what I'm talking about right now," Ruff sighs, obviously frustrated. "That's a staple."
"One leg, Ruff," Astrid defends for what feels like the thousandth time, turning down whatever crazy thing Ruff dragged Fishlegs into in favor of Hiccup's cherished balance.
"Come on, that doesn't mean you have to be vanilla."
"We are not vanilla," Astrid thinks back on her and Hiccup's last few, amazingly satisfying encounters and frowns when they come back a bit repetitive. Well, if it isn't broken, why would she worry about fixing it? Maybe it is broken, and that's why last night pushed Hiccup away. He saw that he's not seventeen and scrawny anymore. "We're at least French Vanilla."
"Sometimes you need some Rocky Road...Moose Tracks….the occasional Bubblegum," Ruff suggests with a lilt that suggests more offensive innocence on Astrid's part.
"I don't understand how this is going to help me any."
"I didn't realize you were asking for help." Ruff thinks for a minute. "I'd go for the old, one two punch of honesty and then sex. Like what you walked in on after Christmas Break." Astrid cringes at the too vivid memory of a very naked Ruff explaining to Fishlegs that she loved him, but she does not love his athlete's foot and it's something he needs to deal with.
"Why does all-and I mean all- of your advice involve me getting naked?" She groans and wipes a hand over her forehead. "I don't want to do the old one two. I want to go and talk to him, but he won't open the door."
"Right, because you're such a great talker."
"I can talk to by boyfriend about serious issues without being naked," Astrid wears the claim like a badge of honor. "Is that really such a bad thing?"
"Fine then, go talk to him. Don't take my advice." Ruff scoffs. "I don't give a shit."
"Yeah, you can keep your reverse camel."
"Backwards parallel camel."
"Whatever," Astrid rolls her eyes and commits the phrase to memory, a little too concerned with looking it up. She hates feeling stupid or behind just as much as she ever has. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Later. Tell me how the sex goes," Ruff signs off.
"Bye."
Astrid hangs up and sets the phone on her stomach, one hand on each dog as she stares up at the ceiling, listening to Hiccup scuffling around across the hallway. He's on the computer, getting clothes out of the dresser, just a little less finessed and cautious than normal.
She contemplates getting up and knocking, maybe he'd let her in this time, maybe they would talk and it wouldn't be so bad, and she'd just tell him that she's jealous and an idiot. Sometimes the truth is harder to say than any lie.
That's not even taking into account the fact that she's leaving tomorrow, half packet duffel hiding on the floor of her closet, full of pills and ice bags and a stolen shirt or two.
She gets up and shuts the door, laying with the dogs until his door opens with a creak and a heavy sigh; he leaves without confrontation.
00000
"Do you have the transmittal letter done yet?" Hiccup asks, more than a little tired of the sound of his own voice as Thuggory produces what must be his fourth small meal in this study session.
"Half done," Thuggory nods, reading through the two extant paragraphs and placing his cursor at the bottom.
"This is due in a week," Hiccup reminds his final project partner, and Thuggory rolls his eyes, secretly thankful for the nagging.
"I'll have it done, don't worry about it," he insists around a mouthful, "and don't forget I already sent the final report to you for a final edit," he chips in a bit of nagging of his own with a cheeky grin. Hiccup scowls, because Astrid is currently in possession of that final draft, and he's so confused and angry at her that he's honestly surprised that he's managing to think straight.
Doubting their relationship isn't his favorite past time, but something seems indomitably fishy about sending him on a quest for other women.
"And I have the drawings done...and the prototype is getting there," Hiccup sighs, tapping the end of his pen anxiously on the table. Thuggory's apparently belabored crunching weasels its way into Hiccup's sanity and he slams a frustrated palm down. "Do you ever stop eating? You're like Astrid with the-" His rant fades away with her too potent name on his tongue.
"I'm a bit prettier than Astrid," Thuggory jokes with a grin that fades at Hiccup's stony expression. "What's up, man?"
"I'm surprised you're so cheerful today after losing that bet last night."
"What are you talking about?" Thuggory laughs, sheepishly victorious. "If anyone lost that bet, it's Astrid. I've never seen her so pale as she was before you came out of the bar." Hiccup frowns.
"But I did so well," he snarks, and it might be the worst reaction to successful flirting that Thuggory has ever heard.
Even if Hiccup has no plans to act on it, shouldn't he at least be happy?
"Astrid was honestly freaked out."
"Freaked out by what she could possibly do with all of her...winning?"
It's not Hiccup's best line and he frowns, wishing Toothless were here. The wolf has an unfortunate ability of making him see things the way that they actually are, differentiating actual problems from simple misunderstandings. Not to mention the always receptive big bright eyes and the constant silent comfort.
Thuggory's roommate has a cat, who is currently making itself busy winding around Hiccup's metal foot and scratching its own chin on the sharp metal edge, but it's not the same.
"Freaked out that she literally gave you money to buy other girls drinks," Thuggory shrugs. "She literally said, 'I'm an idiot. He's in there acting as a party favor and it's my fault, I'm an idiot'," he regurgitates in an awkwardly placid tone and Hiccup's frown deepens.
"She said that to you?" That sort of broadcast doesn't exactly sound like Astrid, eternally prone to holding her frustrations in to blast her like an unclipped grenade.
"She said it to herself, I was just there," Thuggory acknowledges, still chewing. "She was almost as messed up as I was. You? Having that much game-"
"Hey! They were all over me, I did nothing," Hiccup insists and his friend nods, looking more than a little glum.
"Exactly, you didn't have to do anything," the look Thuggory gives his friend is most of all respectful. "It was impressive."
"Did Astrid put you up to this?" Hiccup asks, secure deadpan faltering slightly.
"No," Thuggory laughs, "but she did offer me full bragging rights if I didn't ever start anything like that again." Hiccup thinks back to the two of them muttering in hurried whispers in the car, shaking hands mysteriously.
"What did you guys bet in the first place?" Hiccup quietly finds his scent trail and Thuggory shoots him a knowing smirk.
"Bragging rights."
"So Astrid essentially forfeited?" Hiccup pieces the impossibility together too slowly, brows knit close together. "Astrid? As in my Astrid?" Thuggory nods. "No. No, she didn't."
"She shook on it," Thuggory shrugs, turning back to his laptop. "This Transmittal Letter has a one page limit, right?"
"Yeah, one page," Hiccup mumbles, smoothing a thumb over the stubborn, apparently permanent ink still on his hand.
"She was hot, by the way," Thuggory nods towards Hiccup's hand. "That girl?"
"I honestly didn't notice," Hiccup shakes his head. He's into scowls and knee braces and sloppy, sweaty ponytails. And Astrid's competitive streak, somehow. "Do you want her number? Because it's not coming off."
"Do you think it'd work if I told her that you broke my heart and I just need comfort right now?"
"Eh, maybe," Hiccup shrugs. "I don't really know much about that."
00000
Hiccup walks in with a mind to talk.
Astrid isn't on the couch, like he'd initially expected, and he frowns, leaving his backpack in the living room and searching back towards her bedroom. Spike is laying on the bed, curled around a blissfully napping Toothless and he steps inside long enough to scratch them and say hello, smiling in spite of himself at their genuine tail thumping greeting.
"Where's Astrid?" He mutters to them and Toothless rolls onto his narrow back, moping until Hiccup scratches his stomach. His leg kicks gleefully at the air for a moment before he rolls back onto his side and looks out into the hallway meaningfully. "Out there?" Hiccup frowns and glances across the hallway, trying to remember if he left his bedroom door closed, because it's definitely closed now.
He didn't close it.
He remembers that now, he'd thought about it, but Astrid was staring at him through her door and he didn't want to deal with it, so he left in a hurry.
Mildly intrigued, Hiccup stands and crosses the hallway with three purposeful steps, pausing with his hand on the doorknob before pushing inside.
He stops dead in his tracks, eyes bulging as his breath catches in his throat.
Astrid is laying on his bed, curled on her side with that knee brace sticking out at an admittedly awkward angle, wearing some sort of tiny, see through, lace thing. He didn't know she even owned anything like that, floaty and feminine, wrapping around her narrow waist and exposing those curvier than normal thighs.
He gulps and glances towards her face, finding disconcertingly earnest eyes above everything provocative and wonderful. She smiles and shifts slightly, rolling a little further away from him.
He doesn't agree that it's erm…cold in here.
"Hey," she greets, clearing her throat before continuing. "So, last night was really stupid."
"L-last night?" Hiccup stutters, glancing down her good leg as she stretches it out along the sheets, impossibly long and smooth. Last night? He thinks hard for a moment, swallowing back a mouthful of unintentional drool and finding some indignant seed somewhere back in the rational corner of his mind. "Right. Last night was really stupid. When did you figure that out?"
"As soon as you went inside," Astrid admits with a sheepish smile that looks far too good. He licks his lips and sticks his hands into his pockets, holding onto that spark. "I was going to come in after you, but I didn't have my ID."
Her words are too comforting, too lulling, and he breathes a little too hard, following the line of her insubstantial underwear over her hip and down under that floaty, appetizing, insubstantial and amazing thing. Where did she find that? How long has she had that? Why hasn't he seen that before?
Why is he still standing here when she is over there?
Right. He's mad about something.
Last night. All those women who he doesn't want to see naked.
Because he does want to see Astrid naked. He doesn't know whether he wants to look at everything she's wearing, or rip it off of her. Maybe both.
Both is good.
Mad. He's still supposed to be mad.
"That's not an apology," he manages, crossing his arms and gripping his elbows to try and keep his mind off of gripping anything else. Everything else. Hoisting her leg over his shoulder and plunging—
"It was really stupid, and I'm sorry," she admits quietly, staring past his shoulder for a moment before looking cautiously at his face. He looks…peeved. Not necessarily angry with her, but he's not staring either.
This outfit feels ridiculous without his eyes on her and she wants to throw it off. Maybe throw it at him. That could be funny, Hiccup trying to free himself from a tangled lace entrapment while she gets comfortable.
They do still have more to talk about.
She doesn't want to tell him, because even now, it's obvious that he's not going to be happy. It's not going to be news worth celebrating and right now, moving forward feels like moving back. It's moving away, it's going against what he takes seriously, what he knows.
It's distracting her from the absolutely scintillating way that his eyes are sweeping over her body, sticking on all of those self-conscious new curves and making her feel unusually beautiful.
Pretty has never been an issue, but beautiful is a post-Hiccup construct.
"That's a little better," he grins, voice deep and rough in his throat as his hands move confidently to the hem of his shirt and start lifting it over his head. She sits up halfway, propping herself on an elbow and flushing unintentionally as his eyes flick determinedly downward. That stunned expression isn't exactly bad for her self-esteem and she straightens her back, drumming her fingers on her finally shaved and conspicuously bare thigh.
"I have something else to tell you…"
"Yeah?" Hiccup asks, eyes glazed and tracing over her skin like lightning. His voice has taken on that maddeningly husky quality as he pries his shoe off with a metal toe, kicking it onto the floor behind him and moving back to pull off that shirt.
As much as she'd like it to come off, that won't exactly help her get the news out.
"I'm going back to Boulder tomorrow."
Hiccup stands up straight before slumping forward, eyes clearing as he frowns, no longer distracted.
"What?"
"I'm…Nike e-mailed me back. They want to meet in Boulder on Tuesday."
"Well, I'll take off of my last class and drive you up," he offers, like it's the easiest solution in the world, and her gaze catches on those perennial dark circles under his eyes. She sets her jaw and continues.
"No, I can't ask you to do that. You…It's obvious that this is all wearing you down," she bites her lip and nods. "You need some sleep."
"That doesn't mean you have to go back to Boulder," he frets, and she feels like Toothless must when Hiccup pleads with him to pee on the deck when it's icy. "Astrid, just…Let's nap now?" He suggests hopefully, looking down at her again and flushing beneath his freckles. "And then we can talk about Nike…"
"We need to talk now."
"Then why are you dressed like that?" He asks, gesturing in front of him and trying not to gape.
Again.
He doesn't know whether it's a blessing or a curse that he can see absolutely everything through the sheer fabric.
"Because you were mad at me, and I needed you to talk to me," she explains and he looks more than mildly peeved at her.
"So you got…erm, mostly naked," his indignance falls short again, and it seems like he's breathing unnaturally hard. She'd like him a little closer…and she's starting to wonder just how far she can get that good leg over her head right now.
"I thought you'd avoid me otherwise."
"Thuggory told me that you forfeited," he admits quietly and she frowns, embarrassed.
"Like I said, that bet was stupid," she glances at that still marked hand and looks positively vicious. "And I do intend to make you forget anyone giving you their number."
Her grin is downright malicious and his whole body twitches.
"Already forgotten."
"Her name was Bridget," Astrid muses to herself, pausing to enjoy his reaction as she relaxes back onto the bed and stretches her arms above her head. "Wasn't it?"
"Something like that," he grumbles.
"We're going to forget that," she says resolutely and Hiccup nods.
"Way ahead of you."
"But first, we need to talk about me going back to school," she bites her lip, sobering and slouching against the bed.
"If you're only going to talk to Nike, can't you just come home after Tuesday?" He's obviously getting frustrated, and he's not exactly alone in that. Astrid wonders how Ruff ever makes this work, or if it just shortens the length of her serious talks.
Then again, Astrid wouldn't mind spending a while longer with him looking at her like this.
"Nike gave that other contract to someone else," she admits slowly, face falling grim. "They know about the knee, and I'm…I'm probably going to have to get back in shape quicker than anticipated."
"That's not really your decision," He reminds her, suddenly stern and surprisingly no less attractive. She bites her lip before continuing.
"You know this is my ticket, Hiccup. I've been going further on the bike and…I don't know what else to do, ok?"
"So you're going to start training again before you're ready?" He asks, more irritated than infatuated at the moment and she arches her back slightly, pressing her hips into the bed and trying to get comfortable around the embers sparking in her abdomen.
"Not training…strengthening," she sugar-coats the news.
"That's not smart, Astrid."
Stern Hiccup is working. Stern Hiccup is definitely working for her right now.
She thinks of her research earlier, and all of the things she hopes she can do one-legged, all of the ways she's going to snarl herself around him, trapping and pressing him to the bed and…
"Hmm…"
"What?" He asks, still frustrated above the undeniable husky infusion into his voice.
"Nothing," she mutters, coming back to the moment. "I don't know what else to do, Hiccup. I'm not…I'm not marketable right now, I'm not going to be able to get a job and pay for grad school. I…I know how to run, so I'm going to run."
"You can't do that right now, you're going to hurt yourself worse and—"
"Hey, Ruff is coming to get me tomorrow," she finalizes, sitting up and leaning back on the heels of her hands. Hiccup swallows hard as all that fullness moves more than she's used to, jiggling seductively under the lace. "We can argue more about this later…"
No they won't. She'll make sure that they won't.
She rolls onto her good knee with every intention of crawling towards him and grabbing his belt, tugging him forward onto the bed to get blissfully tangled up. Her bad knee sets her off balance and she slips forward onto her stomach with a grunt, and Hiccup barks out a laugh before he's distracted by her barely covered butt. She glares up at him, offering a more than satisfying view down her expanded cleavage before she pushes back to her knees and attempts to crawl forward with a bounce and a scoot.
Her legs slip out from under her again, and Hiccup barely restrains a snort.
"Astrid just stay there," he offers, stepping closer to the bed and pulling those itchy palms out of his pockets.
"No, just a second…" she insists, thinking for a moment before popping back onto her knees to fall again. "Oh!" The revelation hits and she rocks forward along her torso, pushing up with her arms and rocking again across the bed, satisfied enough with her progress to ignore how she actually looks.
Hiccup can't hold back the laugh this time as she flops across the bed like a clumsy seal, looking so absolutely pleased with herself. He bends forward, laughing too hard as she reaches out and grabs his belt, tugging him onto the bed with a surprisingly strong yank. He flops onto the bed face first, groaning and rolling to the side with a stubbornly escaping chortle. She faces him, glaring and flushed as he holds his stomach and scoots the rest of the way onto the bed, trying to swallow the rest of his laugh.
"Just…Just…"
"Hey," she snaps before softening, "it's not…that was ridiculous, wasn't it?"
"Very," he admits, laughing and reaching over to stroke the point of her bare shoulder with careful fingers. She leans into the touch and sits halfway, tugging sheepishly at the bottom hem of his shirt. "Oh, that now?"
"Yes now, I've been in here for two hours. It's been lonely, and boring," she hints, leaning down to kiss him before pulling away and dragging the shirt up his stomach.
"Lonely huh?"
"Oh, come on Mr. Inquisitive," she yanks on his shoulder and helps him yank his shirt over his head, laughing when his chin catches and his hair frizzes upwards with a burst of resulting static. "I thought you were mad at me," her eyebrows disappear under her bangs as she runs a hand suggestively down his chest and starts with his belt, unbuckling it and yanking it out of his belt loops with a near whistle.
"I'm not letting you leave tomorrow," he tells her, momentarily earnest, before smiling. "But you're not going to be able to leave all of this…" He gestures, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down, taking his boxers with them and jolting when her small warm hand wraps around his shaft and grips teasingly.
She swings a leg over his lap and straddles him, nipping along his collarbone as his hands fly down her back, searching for a closure and finding too complicated laces and a double knotted bow. She licks across his nipple and his nails dig into her back as her delightfully heavier chest rests firm and sweet against his stomach.
"Ok?" She asks, sliding to kiss his neck and smiling at the systematic shiver running through him as she drags across his skin.
"Does this come off?" He asks, hands behind her back blindly tugging at the knot, frustrated.
"I figured we'd leave it on," she shrugs, laughing against the crook of his neck and mouthing at his pulse point as her hips start to rock slowly down against his. Her bad leg is sticking out and up, heel somewhere around his shoulder, but it doesn't necessarily seem like a bad thing. "I think I messed up tying it. We're going to need scissors to get it off."
"Nice," he chuckles, hand sliding down to cup her rear and knead the plump flesh lingering outside of her scant underwear.
"Plus, I thought you'd like it," she smirks, sitting up on his thighs and letting curious fingers drift to stroke him, fiddling gently with the soft hair trailing down from his navel. His eyes fixate on the new curves, obvious and highlighted, and his hand raises slowly, cupping the side of her ribcage and thumbing the soft skin curving around the base of her breast.
"Come on," he urges, bucking against her hand and sliding two long fingers into the leg of her silky underwear and rubbing against her. "I like it."
"Mmm…ok, ok," she reaches down and pulls his hand from her underwear, trying to shimmy them down and toppling sideways with a grunt. Hiccup sits and laughs at her confused expression as she tries to pull her underwear down over the brace and it catches on the Velcro, hanging up as she struggles to tug it down her stuck straight leg.
"Need help?" He asks reaching down and unbuckling his leg, letting it fall to the floor and kicking his pants to join it.
"No…" she writhes, trying to pull her leg to the side and try from that angle, tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. "I can get it."
"Here, just let me help," he rushes her, rolling to his hands and knees and gently pulling those soft, fine underwear the rest of the way over her brace and tossing them over his shoulder with a grin. She frowns and sighs, flopping back onto the bed and letting a now limp arm fall across her eyes. Hiccup sits back onto his heel, leaning on his left hand and looking at her for a minute before breaking the silence with an uncomfortably worried question. She sort of got him a little more than raring to go. "What's wrong?"
"I'm…I'm not in the mood for…gimpy," she complains, sitting up and drawing too much of his attention with that unintentionally elegantly arched back.
"Gimpy?" He asks, leaning towards her and kissing her shoulder while a hand slides down her side, still covered with that absolutely distracting thing. "By the way, where did you get this?" He pulls at its hem, loathing that too well done knot at the same time as he can't help but sort of enjoy the way that it's framing all of those unbelievably soft curves.
"On sale, if we're honest," she laughs, angling her head to the side as his lips slide up her neck, hot and smooth on her skin. "And I don't want…Does this ever get boring for you?" She asks earnestly and he pulls back, frowning and suddenly nervous.
"Does it get boring for you?"
"No," she shakes her head adamantly, trying to backtrack over the question. "Never but…Ruff called us vanilla."
"Compared to Ruff, we are sort of vanilla," Hiccup laughs, and Astrid's idle hand strokes up his thigh, flirting with his arousal and smiling as he twitches against the back of her hand.
"I was thinking we could try a little rocky road," she offers with a downright devious grin, hiding a layer of nerves that Hiccup can barely see.
"Did Ruff call it rocky road?"
"She suggested bubblegum," Astrid grimaces. "I didn't want to ask about that."
Hiccup stares perplexed at the wall for a second before curling his upper lip and shrugging almost shyly, glancing down at himself and scooting a little closer to her.
"I sort of have better things to think about right now…" he frowns. "And I really don't want to wonder about what bubblegum could possibly mean."
"Right?" Astrid laughs, chewing her lip and smiling sheepishly at him. "I mean…we're still going to try it."
"We are?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah, I mean…yes, we are," she grins, popping smoothly onto her good knee and pushing his shoulders back onto the bed before clumsily clambering over him, brace sticking out at an awkward ninety degrees. Her hand slides down his chest and stomach appreciatively to wrap around him, stroking too enticingly. It's not fair. He can't say no to that. She has to know that he can't say no to the way her hand is spiraling so warm and familiar on his sensitive skin.
"What are we going to try, exactly?" He asks, bucking up into her hand, too distracted by the apex of her thighs pressed sweetly against his leg.
"I don't, know," she hums, leaning down and kissing him. It morphs into something long and distracted and she sighs against his lips as his hands slide up her back under those stubborn silk ties, caressing every notch in her spine. "Is there anything that you've ever wanted to try, but didn't want to bring up?" The mumble against his lips reverberates in his teeth and he laughs.
"I don't know, like what?"
She re-situates herself against his hips, getting comfortable and drumming her fingers pensively on his upper stomach.
"Like…any fantasies you have or anything…" The word sounds corny and more forced than the lingerie that still feels ridiculous and she grinds down against him, regaining confidence from his delighted, squirming face. "I mean…door's open," she offers with a shrug that comes an awkward second too late.
"Open?" He checks, wracking his brain for anything salacious that he's thought about, but hasn't had a chance to try. "Honestly, you wearing something like this is a big one," he fiddles with the edge of her lace negligee and she blushes. "So that's…checked off…" his eyes take the long way back to her now crimson face. "What about you?"
"Hmm…" she thinks back to what she hasn't acted on, trying to dig up something salacious and worth the preparation. "Ok…" she pushes her hair away from her face and Hiccup's eyes catch on the responding movement of her barely shielded chest. "Don't laugh at me."
"I'm not going to laugh," he comforts, hand sliding to stroke at the skin of her good knee while his other hand remains trapped under her brace. He wants to ask her to free it, but it feels taboo to bring up her stiff leg.
"It's kind of…it's kind of hot when you're working on something in the garage, and you come inside all…tired and filthy," she shrugs, immediately feeling exposed.
"I will remember that," he grins, "and you know that you could come out into the garage at any point, right?"
"Well, I know that, but I sort of want you to do something about it," and the real fascination comes out with an almost bumbling blurt.
"You do?" He asks, momentarily cautious before he almost leers, eyes lighting up. "So that's what this is about…"
"What is what this is about?" She asks, nervous atop him as his eyes rake down her front in a possessive way she's seen before, but is not quite familiar. "What is this?"
"You want me—" He pauses with a grunt, wrapping his free arm around her waist and flipping her shockingly deftly onto the flat of her back. "To do something about it."
"That is what I said," she adjusts her shoulders against the comforter, swallowing against the heart pounding a bit too hard in her chest. "But that also involved…soot," she teases with a smile that feels more confident than it is and he quirks an eyebrow.
She remember when his heavy hardness resting against her stomach would have been cause for alarm, or at least embarrassment, but now it's comfortable, nagging and yearning as her fingers itch to reach down. She restrains the urge, wondering where this might go and forcing herself to sit back for the ride.
If that's not rocky road, she doesn't know what is.
"You want me to go get sooty?" He asks with a laugh, leaning down and kissing down the column of her neck to nuzzle against her collarbone. Still sweet, still slow and caring like he always is, but there's an undercurrent of implacable confidence.
She likes that, and her hands curl in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp.
"Yes. Engine grease or this is a no-go."
"Yeah?" He asks with a snicker.
"Engine grease on your abs," she mumbles, stretching backwards and sighing as his careful fingers cup at her chest, stroking gently through the lace.
"I would, really," he laughs, low in his throat. "But I think I might cry if this got stained." He tugs at the lace, fingers hooking around her still evident hipbones as he drags her further under him, rocking his hips against her.
"Come on, don't admit that," Astrid moans as he nips at the shell of her ear, running his tongue along the edge and blowing cool air over the moisture. "You're ruining the illusion."
"What illusion?" He sits back slightly.
"The one where you're a manly…sooty guy. You don't cry."
"Oh," he grins and slides off of her, dropping off of the foot of the bed and fumbling for his leg before buckling it on. "I'm going to need my leg for this…"
"For what?" She sits up on her elbows, appraising his long lean lines and tapping her good foot against the edge of the bed.
"This," he grins, walking around the side of the bed and picking her up too easily in his arms.
A reluctant voice in the back of her head likes the fact that all she had to do was mention occasionally enjoying his manliness, and, it came out in droves.
She likes this confidence, likes the comfort and trust that she never really thought she'd have. She knows that whatever happens in the next few hours will be nice, and fun, and that she'll sleep well, even from her own lonely bed across the hall.
She's really liking the wiry bicep clenched and curled around her shoulders a little too much. It's a little too close, a little too warm.
"Are you taking me anywhere in particular?" She asks, trying to sound snippy and falling short somewhere around demure. He grins at her tone, holding her a little closer to his chest and spinning her towards the desk, setting her down to perch on the edge of the wood. "Oh, the desk, that's old news." The challenge is oddly hollow and choked in her chest, and Hiccup's grin widens.
"Old news?" He looms closer over her, pressing his forehead against hers and grinning madly as soft, greedy hands slide up her sides, tracing the grooves of her ribs. "You're a tough critic today, Astrid."
"I am?" She asks, coy tone falling flat as he steps up between her thighs, brushing hard and urgent against her hipbone.
She's not going to come out and admit that this is…interesting. That seems like losing, throwing in a towel that she's not quite ready to let go of yet. She's absolutely unaware when this became a competition, and she wishes for what feels like the thousandth time that she had some other outlet for this. If this weren't some sort of challenge right now, he would already be doing something.
Something, anything, everything. She's open.
Or she will be as soon as she proves that she actually is a match for this disarmingly game Hiccup. She'd be lying if she said she didn't think it's crossed his mind that he can convince her to stay.
That reawakens the fire stifled by his arousing lead blanket.
"Yeah, a little hard to please," he's almost too smooth, hand sliding slickly over her thigh to toy idly between her legs, flirtatious and scintillating.
"You know," she reaches down and wraps her hand around his length, pumping determinedly. She'd hoped it would relieve a bit of the urge, but honestly the whole situation just seems more urgent, tighter and further clenched inside of her. "I wouldn't exactly say putting me on the desk is trying very hard…did you have a further plan for this?" She nearly giggles as he nips at the side of her neck, stopping to suck on her earlobe.
"Not really…" he admits with a laugh, "nothing's on the tip of my tongue."
"Maybe that's your problem…" Astrid suggests, raising her eyebrows and leaning back enough to make eye contact.
"That's my problem? That I don't have anything to say right now-" He asks, clearly not getting her insinuation before his eyes spring wide and his lips slip into a sly grin. "Oh? That is my problem?"
"I'm just saying it could be a factor…" she scoots closer to the edge of the desk, thighs spreading further around his hips. Her bad knee is sticking straight out from the edge of the desk, but it doesn't seem important, no matter how awkward it looks. "You could see if it gives you ideas…"
"Are you going to come up with any ideas here?" He asks, a bit shy, some of that strength enforced confidence fading as he shivers a bit in the less than warm room.
"Hey, I started this whole thing," she looks down, still feeling ridiculous in the lace. His gaze follows hers and her face heats up, knees spreading imperceptibly wider. "Come on, manly engine grease guy would continue this," her grin is pure and calming enough to earn a smiling response. His hands find her hips and slide down to his knees, pulling them slightly further apart and dropping to kneel in front of the desk. She leans back on her hands with a smile, scooting closer to the edge of the desk. "Anytime now," she laughs as his warm palms slide up her inner thighs.
He dives in with a chuckle that vibrates against the very core of her and she squeals in spite of her best intentions, arching forward against his tongue. He drags it fully across her, pressing hard into the wet folds and smiling against her as she squirms.
She's already past wet, towards soaked, and it's something of a shock. If it's this immediately effective, he's going to be sure to carry her around the room more often from here on out. It wasn't exactly horrible for him either, feeling strong and capable. Her good heel curls around the back of his neck and presses him closer to her with a satisfied moan that spurs him to pick up the pace on this entire escapade.
He was doing alright until she started whimpering, really.
He stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and leaning over her on the desk. Her knee ended up hooked on his shoulder somewhere along the way and it sticks there, by her ear as he leans in to kiss her, hands on either side of her hips on the desk. She pulls him closer with the calf pressed against the back of his neck, leaning onto one hand and reaching down to line him up with her entrance.
"Now?" He affirms, and she's oddly gratified that he still asks, no matter how manly he's trying to be.
And really succeeding, not that she's necessarily going to tell him that.
"Yeah," she nods against his shoulder and he pushes in with an electrifying groan against the soft skin on the inside of her knee. "Come on," she urges, wrapping an arm around his back and pulling herself closer with that knee over his shoulder. "Ah, shit, condom," she huffs at the realization, leaning back deflated.
He opens the desk drawer and pulls out a foil wrapper. She quirks an eyebrow at the placement.
"What? We used to use the desk a lot?" He flushes defensively, her knee still over his shoulder as he rips open the packet and slides the condom on, grabbing her shoulders.
"Where else do you have a stash?" She laughs, tugging him closer and moaning at the ineffective brush between her legs. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"
"Bad…bad angle," he assesses, wiggling his hips against her and trying to scoot his foot back from the desk to correct the position. His metal foot catches in the carpet and he does his best to ignore it. "Do-here," he grabs her ass with a hand and rocks upright, carefully leaning to avoid her bad leg as his other hand slides to her hip, sliding her the rest of the way onto him. Her knee slips from his shoulder, leg still trapped within the cage of his arms, calf pressed against his collarbone as her other leg sticks straight behind him, brace holding it awkwardly aloft. "Better?" He asks, beaming and turning to kiss the side of her ankle, conveniently next to his mouth.
"Alright," she laughs and he twitches at the responding clenching around him. "I'd like it if you…moved," she nudges her hips against his as much as she can and he holds her close, fearing his wobbly knees and turning to press her up against a bare plane of the wall. She bucks up into him, reflexively cringing away from the cold plaster and he presses harder against her, holding her there with firm hips. "Sorry, cold."
"It's ok though?" He asks and she nods, rocking insistently against him with the slight leeway that she has between him and the wall.
"Stop teasing," she insists, eyes suddenly stony as her hands grip at his shoulders. "You can't start carrying me around if you're not going to back it up—oh!" She squeaks as he pulls out and pushes back in, grinning at her satisfied reaction.
"I'm backing it up," he insists with a grin, shaking his head as emphatically as he can through the sensations rippling up his spine. Her fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulder as her head thunks back against the wall with a groan.
"Ouch."
"Careful," he mutters, tucking his forehead into the wall over her shoulder and sighing low in his throat as the reason to talk disappears from the forefront of his mind. His hips snap almost of their own accord against her, wet and almost too loud in the comparative silence of the room. Astrid tugs herself up with manacles clamped onto him, moaning as the new angle jars something sensitive deep inside her. "There?" He asks with an urgent grunt and she nods, her entire body trembling and quaking between Hiccup's firmness and the wall.
There's something appealing about this position, pressed so close against all of those lithe muscles, clenched with the effort of holding her up, freckled and pale under her fingers. She opens her eyes slightly to look at him, face pressed into the wall, huffing and clenching his jaw as the smooth motion of his hips becomes erratic. His fingers dig into the points of his hips with one last unbearably deep thrust and he twitches, almost crushing her into the wall as he drains inside of her.
She gasps at the sudden swollen throbbing, rubbing soothing hands over his shoulders as he toddles backwards with an unsteady clicking before flopping backwards onto the bed and groaning at her warm solid weight on his chest. She tries to scoot upwards, stiff right leg stuck straight against the side of the bed as she tries to pull off of him.
"Little help?" She eventually asks with a quiet laugh and his hands slide to her hips, lifting too easily and slipping out of her with a still sensitive hiss. "Thank you," she mumbles, lying down beside him and resting her head on his shoulder, dragging her stiff leg onto the bed next to them, like a third party who's not quite welcome, but impossible to kick out.
"Don't thank me yet," he mutters, tired, still shaking hand snaking down her front and finding her slick warm clit. It's still sensitive, still warm and eager, and she's trembling after a few hard rubs, groaning when three determined fingers find their way into her, rubbing at the spot deep inside of her while his thumb tends to the outside. She moans and springs taut surprisingly quickly under the ministrations, almost arousing enough in that somehow still intact lingerie to resurrect him.
"Ok…now, thank you," she mutters, completely sated and more than a little exhausted.
"You're welcome."
"I love you," she grins and he snakes a long exhausted arm around her neck, tucking her into his side.
"You can't go," he mutters against her sweat damp hair, wildly uncomfortable with a wide wrinkle of snarled comforter pressing into his spine.
"I have to go."
"You have to stay, so that we can do more of that," he tries.
"We can do plenty of that tonight."
"I don't want you to go," and it's a last ditch effort, so raw and open in her ear that she finally frowns, hiding her face in his chest.
"I don't want to either," she sighs. "But I have to. It's my shot."
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It didn't want to split, and I sort of liked the concept that they're only mad for a single chapter. But seriously you guys, this chapter has Ruff, Thuggory, AND smut. I need to hear back and I need to hear what you guys have to say. Because you are spoiled, and getting another chapter on Sunday, and it's a Friday so it's the weekend and TGIF.
I will finish up responding to last chapter's reviews tomorrow, and thank you in advance for all of them.
Also, thank you for Goonlalagoon for submitting that piece of fanart, I'm working on her reward ficlet this weekend and to anyone else who's interested, a picture is worth a thousand words.
So…to sum up this too long author's note, please review. I just dumped my bag of tricks out on the page here.