Dance the Night Away - Astrid can't help but indulge her boyfriend's weird tastes in music.

Modern AU.

"You're seriously a seventies guy?"

Astrid stared at her boyfriend's sizeable collection of assorted vinyls, cassette tapes, and aging equipment she had no idea what to call but 'old'.

Hiccup smirked, folding his arms. "Yep. Crucify me."

Astrid bent down, slowly sorting through the pile. "Led Zeppelin… ACDC… Who are these guys? Why can't you just listen to normal music like the rest of us?" She quipped, shaking her head at the unfamiliar names and cover art.

Hiccup shrugged. "Don't find it interesting. These guys had far more musical talent than everyone on the Top 100 nowadays combined. I guess I'm an oldie through and through."

Astrid chuckled, lightly punching his shoulder. "Like you'd be a good judge of that, Mister I'm-tone-deaf-and-can't-stay-on-pitch-for-the-life-of-me. I'm still not taking you out for karaoke again anytime in the next two centuries." At this, Hiccup let out a hearty laugh, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"And I don't expect you to. Don't worry, I love you too much to torture you further with my cheese grater of a voice." Astrid snickered herself, pulling the auburn-haired boy in for a gentle kiss.

When they finally broke apart, grinning like madmen, Hiccup gestured down at the organized pile beneath them. "Well, what d'ya say we have a little listen? You know, you've got to use these old things every once in a while to keep 'em in working order," he said, eyes alight.

Astrid crossed her arms, frowning exaggeratedly. "I hate old music."

"You never know 'till you've tried it, milady."

Astrid shrugged. Figuring she had nothing to lose by indulging Hiccup's strange quirks, she plopped herself down on his couch – which was quite comfy, she noted – watching with mild interest as Hiccup set up the bulky speakers and assorted machinery, one of which she recognized as a vinyl record player. He rifled through his catalog of music, eventually settling on a blue-cover vinyl with white and red lettering.

"What's that one?"

"Oh, you'll like this one. One of the classics of the rock era." Shaking her head and laughing to herself gently, she continued to watch with curiosity as he inserted the record into the player, gently lowering the needle onto the black disc.

A simple drum rhythm started to play, leading into an electric guitar riff. The vocalist, while rougher around the edges than what she was used to, had a gritty, real quality to him that Astrid had to admit was endearing in its own way. The melody, while fairly simple, was catchy; before long, the blond-haired girl found herself tapping along with her feet, bobbing her head in time with the beat.

Hiccup, seeing this, grinned. "Well? Not bad for a dork's music taste, right?" In a flash, he was at her side, hand extended. "A dance, milady?"

Astrid snorted, lightly batting away his extended arm. "So you're a kind gentleman now?" she joked. Unsatisfied with this response, Hiccup grabbed her arm, dragging her off the couch, ignoring her weak protests about leaving the comfiness of its soft cushioning.

"I thought you said you couldn't dance," she joked, slowly beginning to shuffle to and fro in time with the music, Hiccup's hand in hers.

"I said my dancing ability was limited to shuffling my feet and grabbing your butt. And that's exactly what I plan on doing." Hiccup grinned, taking both of Astrid's hands in his as he began to guide her around the room, spinning her under his arms. Eventually, Astrid began to smile, her small smirk turning into a fully-fledged grin as they sashayed across the wooden floor.

"So you do like it."

"What?"

"The music."

"I admit nothing, you dork."

Hiccup laughed softly, pulling her closer to him. He pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he led her around the room. "But I'm your dork."

A/N: Some fluff with a modern-day dorky Hiccup and the Astrid we all know and love. Points for the first person to guess the song and artist.