"You want to play what?" Hiccup asked, mulling over the necessity of having friends; what ever made him believe he wanted them in the first place?
"Sit," Ruffnut insisted, pulling him down into the empty spot beside her.
His hands were full of his latest designs, sketched down on parchment, but he might as well be carrying nothing at all for the weight his friends gave his ideas. The drawings fell to the floor, scattered like leaves, as he unceremoniously landed beside Ruffnut. Never mind that his brain was buzzing. Vacuous adolescent games were afoot, and they apparently took precedence over everything else.
"The rules are simple: you tell one of the people at this table that you like them—it doesn't have to be true—and if they blush or get uncomfortable, you win!" Snotlout explained.
"Is there drinking involved?" Hiccup muttered. "This seems like a game where drinking's involved."
The other teens just laughed. He nudged his drawings under his seat where they wouldn't get trampled.
"Maybe Hiccup should go first, since he's so agreeable and all?" Tuffnut suggested.
Hiccup frowned. "No."
"I'll go first, then," Astrid piped up, leaning on her elbows.
"Don't start with Fishlegs this time. That's low-hanging fruit," Snotlout said.
Fishlegs puffed up. "Hey!"
Astrid smirked, pinning Hiccup with a stare that made the bottom drop out of his stomach. Foreboding raced the length of his spine, settling in his brain and screaming at him to flee, to find an excuse. But Astrid was look directly at him and into him; and he was soldered to the bench with damning fascination.
Were smoldering eyes against the rules? He decided they definitely should be. The expression on her face was materialized straight from his more indecent fantasies, and that just couldn't be fair.
"I like you, Hiccup Haddock," she said with a voice to match.
The use of his last name was overkill. Honestly.
"Ooohhh!" Snotlout cried, slapping the table. He was a little too pleased with the results. "And Hiccup's out on the first round! How embarrassing!"
"I'm surprised you could even see him blush under all those freckles," Tuffnut said.
Astrid's stare had turned from intense and scandalous to something coy. She kept her eyes on Hiccup, beneath long lashes. Unless he was mistaken, there was a faint tint to her own cheeks that she hid deep in a long swig from her mug—but nobody else was paying attention.
