Hiccstrid drabble, because I love those two. If you haven't seen the "Obama video" in the Dreamworks studio I highly suggest you do so!

That little clip and the e-book covers sent me riding high in my Hiccstrid craze. I think I've been in a liquid state for the past three days due to the cuteness overload. I keep melting over. :)

Summary: sometimes you just wanna get dirty.

I Saw Red

Hiccup was just minding his own business that afternoon, working on the new pedal for Toothless' saddle. It was a continuous work: make a new design, build it, test it out. Work out the kinks, redesign, test it again. Fix the dent on the metal after a bad crash when test-flying, redesign the complex wire system for improved manoeuvrability.

Actually, it was double the work – the new pedal he envisioned also called for a new prosthetic for his missing foot. He hummed tunelessly as he worked, completely absorbed in his projects for most of the day. Soon Toothless would grow restless and invade the smithy, demanding he be taken out on a sunset lap around the island; so he'd better make the best of his time.

Whenever inspiration struck him – it could be anywhere, anytime, so usually he'd have to write it down on his notebook and just drop everything else as soon as possible – it could last for hours, days. Even weeks, like when he was obsessed about building a station specifically for the AirMail Terrors.

He did prefer to work at night, but the more hours he could get into it the better. All of his focus was directed to studying the project he had at hand. Nothing should distract him from –

"Hiccup!"

Aaand there was Astrid calling out for him. He groaned (only slightly peeved about being disturbed since the interrupter was always a sight for sore eyes) and put down his writing stick, standing up. He stretched his sore muscles – how long had he been sitting in the same position? – and ambled over to the passage from his workspace to the smithy. He knocked into a couple of his projects, bits of wood and leather and paper falling on the ground, and made a mental note about cleaning the place up or rebuilding it bigger. The lack of space was getting on his nerves. It was a good thing he'd forgotten the pigments he'd bought from trader Johann on the smithy's workshop table, else his little nook would be a colourful mess right then.

"Yeah Astrid, I'm here. What can I help - ?"

"Think fast!" He heard her say, and suddenly her axe was pretty much flying in his direction. He whelped in astonishment yet his left hand shot forward, successfully grabbing the weapon's handle with ease. He didn't even sag or stumble with the weight of it, merely standing there in confusion as his girlfriend let out a triumphant "Ha! Told ya so!"

Astrid spun around with a bounce and addressed whoever it was that Hiccup couldn't see. "Pay up, Thorston."

Ruffnut grumbled from behind one of the smithy's pillars, shoved her left hand in the pocket of her vest and begrudgingly threw a small piece of silver at Astrid, who grabbed it and happily secured the metal inside her pouch.

"At least I got to see you almost lop his head off. Nice catch, Hiccup," Ruffnut droned before leaving, torn somewhere between irritation for losing her money and renewed respect for Hiccup's motor skills.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he called, unimpressed by the compliment. He glared at Astrid, who was biting back a grin.

"Easy money!" She told him as if to explain what had happened.

"Is this gonna be a regular thing? Because I don't know if I want to spend the rest of my life being used as the subject for money bets on my survival, you know." He placed the axe on a workbench and crossed his arms, annoyed.

"Oh, come on! I have full confidence on your hand-eye coordination," Astrid replied, biting down her lips to prevent them from stretching any further. It wasn't really working – she was still grinning – but the way he bit her lips just almost made him forget why he was riled in the first place. Almost. That, and the underlying compliment she'd just given him.

"Is that so? Good to know you find me skilful enough to try and murder me." He suppressed the smirk from growing on his face when she inched closer to him, swaying her hips ever so slightly. He wondered if she knew she did that more often than not, especially when she was about to request something from him.

"Well, I was just on my way to ask you to sharpen my axe" - ah, there it was - "when Ruffnut bumped into me and asked what target I'd be practicing on, and… You know. One thing lead to another and here we are. I'm a silver piece richer."

He wiped that pleased little expression off her with his reply. "Good for you then, because I'm charging you for my work," Hiccup said, as seriously as possible and with the straightest face he could muster.

"No way! You never charged me for anything before." That was true enough. And he would never charge her for anything, but she needn't be told that for now.

"I gotta start somewhere! I can't work for free, you know. Gotta make a living and all that," Hiccup shrugged, "at least until you actually succeed in killing me."

She scoffed and placed her hands on her hips, her head tilted sideways in that typical stance of hers. "Fine. Name your price then."

"That silver piece you just got," Hiccup replied, and when she started complaining he held up his hands defensively and added, "It's just a tiny bit of silver! Don't be so stingy." Now it was his turn to be amused, but he didn't let it show. He kept his business face on.

"I can't believe the… ugh. No, it's mine."

"I was the one whose life was at stake, so technically it should be mine," he reasoned.

"Yeah but you're harder to kill than most people, apparently. Besides, I didn't even throw it with full swing."

He edged closer to her, and almost lost his poker face when she battered her thick long eyelashes at him. Again, he wondered if she did it on purpose or not.

"I demand payment," he insisted.

"Pick another price," her voice had an edge of a husk in it now, "and you'll receive it." She fell right into his trap. He took his time replying, pretending to think about what he wanted.

"Kiss me, then."

"Fine," she whispered, the curve of her lips gathering into a soft pucker. He slanted his head sideways, a "YES" for victory blaring in the back of his head, his eyes shutting close. He stood there like an idiot for a moment, paused in a mid-air kiss. When he didn't feel her lips anywhere near his, he opened his eyes.

"Think fast!" She yelled, but this time he didn't have a fraction of a second to react. Something splashed at the side of his face and his ear, and he immediately jolted at the feeling of the cold fluid. Bewildered, he ran his right hand over his cheek and checked it. A bright crimson liquid was running down his fingers, soaking unto the floor and on his tunic.

He scowled at Astrid, who looked particularly pleased with herself, holding the small empty bowl of red paint in her hand as though it were her battle trophy. "That colour looks good on you," she teased, pulling her tongue out at him.

"Oh, you're so ON!" Hiccup growled, grabbing another small bowl at random and chucking its contents at her face. A very surprised Astrid dropped the container she'd been holding, gasping in indignation and wiping her eyes and mouth with her hands.

He prepared to strike the final blow. He nodded in the most patronising, supercilious way possible before saying, "Well, guess you kinda look hot in blue, Milady."

"You little, rat-eating – " she began, seething, and when she lunged forward Hiccup thought he'd gone too far and warranted himself a punch to the face. But there was no fist – just a vigorous stroke of her fingers across his cheek. He cocked his head and looked at her, lost. Uncertainly, he brought up his fingers and glided them across her face as well, drawing two streaks of red on her chin.

There was a stretch of silence as they examined each other's faces. He felt the laughter bubbling up within him, and saw her contract her lips into a pained expression of suppressed delight. Then they both burst out laughing like they'd gone out of their minds, tumbling into one another, pushing and shoving playfully and tickling back and forth. They got paint all over their clothes and the forge's floor, and only stopped their lively roughhousing when they could no longer breathe steadily.

He slumped against the large work table, his stomach flipping with each rumbling laugh. Astrid leaned against him, still shaking with giggles, and cupped his cheeks to pull him into a quick kiss; he laughed faintly into her lips, diverted from the world.

Then she rubbed her face all over his, their skin tacky upon contact due to the paint. They burst out laughing once more at the sight of their purple-stained faces and just sat together, blue-hand-in-red-hand, until they could breathe normally again, the overall goofyness of the whole situation bringing them a calm sense of companionship.

Hiccup stood up, shaking the dust off him to no avail. He frowned down at his clothes, which were in dire need for a thorough cleanse sometime soon.

"We're a hot mess, huh?" Astrid quipped. Hiccup nodded and stretched his now-purple hand to her; she took it and pulled herself up, rotating on the spot so he could take a better look. She was covered in dirt and soot and paint, red and blue and purple, her braid threatening to come undone and her headband slightly askew. But the smile on her face was genuinely amorous and happy.

"Yep," Hiccup conceded, "We're a mess!"

"Seriously though, red does suit you," Astrid chirped humorously. "Also, congratulations for making me act like a five-year-old."

"You're very much welcome!" Hiccup retorted, bowing almost to the floor, "Next time we could play doctors."

He hadn't really said it with any intent on an innuendo, but the way her eyes dilated and her lips pursed told him he'd gone for the wrong choice of words. He blurted out his apology and wiggled his painted hands about as though trying to erase the words, but she just brushed it off with a nervous chuckle and an odd twitch of her shoulders.

"Seriously Hiccup, the things you remember sometimes!"

Astrid turned around and left the forge, circling it to her right so as to minimize the chance of being seen lathered up in paint, scurrying to her house. Hiccup couldn't recall what she was referring to, though, so he slipped his way back to his workshop to wash up. He picked up the discarded paint containers – he'd need to order more blue and red from Trader Johan – and stood looking at the empty red one thoughtfully.

"Red suits me…" Inspiration struck. Hiccup added some water to the remnants of paint, using it to colour his new sketches with dashes of crimson. When Toothless appeared at his doorstep, Hiccup just signalled for him to wait.

"Just let me finish this, bud! She says she likes red on me… I can't go overboard, though…"

Toothless grumbled and scoffed, but decided to sit on his haunches and wait anyway.

Indeed, humans have the strangest mating rituals I have ever witnessed.

END