A/N – Here. Take this madness. Hiccstrid, 90% smut.

Caution – contents may be extremely hot.

Title: Overworked

X

Astrid stopped in the doorway to Hiccup's hut. He'd mentioned not being disturbed for a while, not until he figured out Viggo's intentions, but that had been that morning. The sun set behind the thickening storm clouds, lighting the topmost clouds on a red-orange and golden glow.

A day felt like sufficient enough time to brood, or it did to Astrid, who worried about Hiccup being cooped up in his hut since that morning. With a peace offering of roasted fish and bread, she entered his hut.

Hiccup bent over his desk, shoulders hunched, hair ruffled – he looked like a mess. Toothless napped on the second floor. His tail hung off the end; he didn't wear his tailpiece.

The door shut behind her and if Hiccup heard it, he gave no indication. Toothless looked over his side, head upside down, and let out a low warble. He rolled back over.

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked, taking cautious steps toward him. Sometimes, he got so caught up in whatever he studied, he shut out the world around him. She'd unintentionally startled him one too many times to not make her presence known before she stood beside him. "Hiccup?"

"I'm not done," Hiccup said all in one breath, his voice ragged and in need of a drink.

Astrid took that as a signal of recognition and stood beside him. He'd arranged a mini-archipelago on his desk, with little ships and the Maces and Talons figurines.

"You need to take a break," Astrid said. She set the plate of food on the desk, on one of the few empty spots. She nudged his arm with her hand, grazing his sleeve with her fingers. "You've been at it too long."

"Just a bit longer," Hiccup said, eyes on the Viking Chief and the King of the Marauders, facing off on the desktop in a silent staring content, frozen in the wooden figures. "I-I can figure it out, I can, I just need more time."

"You've been at this all day," she said, worming her fingers around his arm. "You're only wearing yourself out."

"He's not smarter than me," Hiccup said, his voice gruff and hoarse.

"He might be," Astrid said. Hiccup jerked his attention from the desk and focused his stare on her. She shrugged. "Or, he might not be. Either way, you're letting this eat you alive. It's not…it's not like you."

Astrid pushed the plate closer to him, nudging a little wooden ship out of the way.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"Of course you are," Astrid said, pulling his arm closer to her. "You're too stressed out and worried to feel it. Eat. You'll feel better."

Hiccup sighed, a defeated sound, exasperation that had been piling up inside came out all at once. He brought his hand to his face, then the other, which took it away from Astrid's touch. He rubbed his face and pushed his hair away. It fell back at once, but he'd left it messier.

Astrid reached up and fixed a strand that stood straight up, and realigned it with the rest. Hiccup watched her, tired eyes on her as she straightened his dirty hair.

"You're working yourself to death," she said. She let her hand fall from his hair to his shoulder. "None of us have seen you in nearly a month."

"I've been busy," he said.

He turned his attention back to the desk. Astrid pulled at his arm again, and wiggled between Hiccup and his desk, forcing his attention on herself. For extra measure, she reached for his chin and held him in her gaze.

"Hiccup," she started. This sort of proximity to Hiccup never ceased to run an excited shiver down her back and through her legs. It ended somewhere in her toes. "I worry about you."

Hiccup's eyes glazed, not in dullness, but with a look that melted her insides and sent a tremor down her limbs. He set his hands on the desk, on either side of her, and closed the small space between them, pushing her against the side of the desk. A gasp shuddered from her throat at the pressure, Hiccup on one side and the desk on the other.

The desk hit at an uncomfortable junction of her hips and back. To alleviate it, she wiggled her hips a bit higher, sitting half-way on the edge of the desk. Hiccup didn't say a word about it, but followed her motion and inched closer. Astrid maneuvered her backside further on the desk, never taking her eyes off of Hiccup; he kept his gaze on her.

Her hand brushed a wooden figurine. It toppled. She turned quick to catch it, but she didn't move fast enough. The little figurine, the King of the Marauders, tumbled off the desktop and clanked on the floor, where it rolled to the wall and came to a halt. Astrid looked back at Hiccup, who had watched the King roll. His eyes lingered on the fallen King.

"I'm sorry," Astrid said quietly.

Hiccup's hands, posed on either side of her, scooted closer to her, and then he let go of the desk altogether. He stepped around her. Astrid expected him to retrieve the fallen piece. He looked at it, but did not pick it up. Instead, he bent over his desk and swept the rest of the pieces from it. They clanked and rattled against the floor.

"Hiccup?"

He returned to her with renewed speed, hands reaching for her waist. His mouth crashed onto hers with enough force to push her back. She reached for him, and then realized Hiccup was pushing her back, onto the desk. She obliged.

They parted lips to scoot back onto the desk. Astrid crawled backward onto the now empty desktop as Hiccup climbed up after her. The wood met her back and Hiccup flattened himself on top of her, holding himself up with one hand, and touching her with the other. Their lips met again. Astrid buried her hands in that hair of his, touchable even when unwashed.

His thigh pushed hers upward, and she wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, pulling him closer. He moaned into her mouth and gasped between kisses. It all lit a fire somewhere inside her. It started in her chest and grew hot and wild, consuming her stomach, her legs, and everything. She'd heard about the wild passion that caused women to do crazy things, that those women whose passion released easily were best suited for prostitutes, for any touch set them aflame – Astrid disbelieved that such passion existed until she felt it for herself. It burst at Hiccup's touch.

Hiccup left her mouth and trailed his hot mouth down her chin and across her jaw, leaving a wake of wet kisses behind. Astrid grasped his hair; he'd found that spot on her neck, below her ear, her own soft spot, and he made great use of it.

"Hiccup," she gasped, tightening her legs around him, pushing him into her.

She felt it beneath his tunic, a hardness that hadn't been there before. It stroked the flame like a poker doused with oil. She gripped his hair as he exploded the rest of her neck, using his tongue as well as his teeth. His free hand roamed the parts of her body he could reach. His fingers teased the material of her shirt, running along the woven threads. His fingertips hesitated at the curve of her breast; his slight indecision tossed the fire around.

Astrid grabbed his hand and flattened his palm against her breast, gasping with the sensation of his hand against her shirt. Hiccup paused his lips against her neck long enough to gaze at his hand, as if it weren't his own. Astrid's fingers ran over his. The hand locked in his hair pulled him back to her mouth.

His hand felt the lump on her chest, moving around it with a craftsmen's gentleness. She bucked her hips into his. Unladylike? Probably. She didn't care. She wanted more of him. She craved his touch, his skin, all of him. And she would have him.

Hiccup gasped into her mouth. The hand fondling her chest reached for her shoulders, and in a quick motion of his nimble fingers, the metal and leather fell from her. He pushed them onto the floor where they clanked into the wooden figures. With his new freedom of her neck, his lips returned there.

Astrid fiddled with the leather armor. She couldn't figure it out. She'd never seen him take it off, but she had watched him put it on. It didn't look that hard. But the buckles didn't want to give.

Hiccup's kissed hesitated. He whispered in her ear, "Trouble?"

"Take this off," she said, pulling at the leather strap that ran from his shoulder to his side.

Hiccup leaned forward, leaving a strange emptiness between them as he sat back on his legs. Astrid hadn't realized how fast her heart was beating until she felt it in his absence. It pounded against her ribcage. Hiccup reached for the complex buckle of his leather. His hands trembled, his breath came in short, breathless gasps. Astrid watched his expert fingers undo the buckle and loosen the leather from his torso. He wiggled out of it and tossed it to the floor.

He sank back into his position over her, but not before she got a look at it. Without his armor, it pressed against his pants, bulging from the groin. He hesitated. Astrid wrapped her arms around him and pressed him back into her, taking his lips with her own. Without his armor, she could feel him, the heat that passed through his shirt, the lithe muscles underneath, the rise and fall of each breath.

She worked his shirt up from his hips until she could feel his skin underneath. He shuddered at her touch and the fire grew. She slid her palm along the skin of his back, along his spine, pushing the shirt upward slowly. She didn't want to miss a thing. Using both of her hands, she urged the shirt up his torso. Not a single ounce of fat stuck to his bones. Underneath his skin she felt tight muscles, compact in his lean frame.

Hiccup leaned up again, this time to remove his tunic. It flopped on the floor. He set his hands on either side of Astrid and held himself over her. She tried to memorize him, each freckle, each tiny scar. Hiccup's breath came quick, his eyes glued to hers, hesitation strong.

"Are you okay?" she said, not wanting to break the moment. She reached up for his arms and held on, urging him back down to her.

"I'm great," he said.

She bit into her lip. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," he said, a gracious smile spread over his lips.

"Me neither."

Hiccup leaned back and dropped to the floor in front of the desk. He held his hands out for her. She took them. Hiccup pulled her into a sitting position, but didn't give her a chance to question or comment. He glued his mouth to hers and gripped her waist. She reached for his bare shoulders, fingering the skin she had only seen.

He worked her shirt free of her skirt and wiggled his fingers underneath. He flattened his hands on the skin of her waist and pushed her shirt upward, until their lips parted for him for pull it over her head. Their lips met again, his hands and arms wrapped themselves around her bare torso, with nothing but her tight breast wrapping between them.

He fumbled with the folds in the back, until he released the material. He broke their kiss just long enough to glance down at his work, pulling the linen back and forth, pulling it away from her chest. Finally, the end came and he pushed it to the floor with the rest. Astrid gasped, the feeling of being bare in front of him sent shivers down her limbs, an eruption of goose flesh and jitters.

His eyes found her bare breasts first and his hands quickly followed. His lips met her cheek as his hands roamed freely, kneading and touching. His fingertips grazed the erect nipples and she bucked into his hips. His own excitement had nothing to hide under his pants, which were doing a poor job of it. He pushed his hips into hers.

"Hiccup," she moaned into his touch, arching her back into his hands.

His kissed her hard, and left her lips with a tender touch. He bent down, running his hands along her legs, and pulled the boots from her feet. She watched him work; his eyes would flicker up to hers, hungry with the same passion she felt. He stood. He gripped her bare waist in his hands and pulled her from the table and set her on her feet. Those hands of his slid to her skirt and wiggled fingers underneath and pulled it down. He repeated the action with her leggings, but slowly ran his fingertips down her legs as they appeared.

She stepped out of her clothes as Hiccup took them off. He crawled back up her body with a hot trail of kisses. He lingered on her hip bone, long enough to throw a pot of oil on to the fire that burned through her skin. When he reached her mouth, he slid his arms around her and hoisted her into his arms.

So much of her skin touched his.

She held onto his shoulders as he carried her to the stairs, up, and into his bed. Toothless gave little notion that they had joined him. He snorted and rolled onto his other side, his back to them.

Astrid latched her hand onto the waist of his pants. She scooted back onto the bed, giving him plenty of room to join her, but she held onto his pants. Hiccup leaned down and planted a kiss on her lips, then added his two hands to hers and untied the front of his pants. Excitement rolled through her body as she felt the first of the coarse hair. Hiccup trembled as he worked his pants free of his groin, his hips, and pushed them down to the floor.

Astrid didn't wait for him to climb onto the bed. She pushed through his underwear and grabbed hold of him, earning herself a gasp from his throat and a shudder of his entire body, including that which she held. She ran her fingers down the warm length of it, each time pushing out a moan from Hiccup that wormed underneath her skin and pushed her further toward the edge.

"Astrid," he gasped.

He worked himself the rest of the way from his underwear. She scooted herself to the side and felt his hands before she reached. Hiccup fingered his way underneath the linen that wrapped her hips, pulled and it until he could easily pull it down her legs. The underwear hadn't yet hit the floor when his fingers found her and pushed inside.

"Hiccup," Astrid felt a body-wide shiver nearly knock her out. Her limbs shook.

He wormed his fingers inside, this way and that, exploring her as she had done him. With his free hand he shifted her knees apart and she helped him, widening her hips for him. His fingers teased at something beyond what she knew. She knew the end, she had found it for herself many times, but she had never felt it as close as she had in Hiccup's touch, never as white-hot.

Hiccup withdrew his slick fingers and poised himself above her. Reluctant and excited, she let go of him. She leaned back as he leaned forward. His gaze met hers again. She wiggled underneath him until she felt him where his fingers had been, a hardness against her.

"Ready?" he asked, breathlessly.

She nodded. He moved his arms and lay above her, hips poised with hers, thighs against hers. He adjusted himself slightly. He hovered over her with one elbow beside her and his hand on the other holding him up. Astrid reached for his arms, yearning for something to hold onto.

He pushed his stiffened self into her, sliding against the slickness, generating a wave through her body, and his by the sound that dripped from his tongue. He pushed himself all the way inside of her, and then repeated, each thrust gained speed.

Her body took him, all of him, with as much pain as white-hot pleasure. She stretched around him and each thrust felt less like pain than the first.

"Astrid," he moaned in her ear, his breaths ragged. He kissed her.

Astrid reached between them and felt for the spot that would render her a wobbly mess. Hiccup followed her hand, watched her touch, but didn't try to imitate. He instead kissed her again.

She felt it coming harder and faster than it had before, no doubt helped along by Hiccup. He thrust harder, faster, bringing his own end at a fast pace. Her hand shook as she touched herself, as it came closer, until it burst. The fire she'd been stroking exploded into a white-hot, blinding pleasure, waves of it washed over her, arching her upward.

"Hiccup," she gasped as he teased her through the incoming waves.

Her name fell from his lips as he came. A shudder ran through his body and he gasped, and collapsed on top of her. Sweaty, he rolled onto the bed beside her to catch his breath.

"Gods, Astrid," Hiccup gasped, hand in his hair.

She pushed herself onto wobbly arms and laid a hand on his chest. Sweat simmered between the muscles. "I didn't mean to distract you."

He laughed, a warm laugh like the one she'd missed. "Like hell you didn't."

"Are you upset?"

He laughed again, and pushed upward to meet her in a kiss. "No, not at all. I'm glad you stopped by."

She laughed against this lips. "I love you, you know."

"That's good to hear," he said. He wrapped his arm around her. "Because I love you, too, every crazy hair on your head."