A/N: Now I've seen HTTYD2. JRVEHETHIRGYHIYWRPHILYRUWRHNLAAAAAAAHHHH! And other assorted noises of incoherent joy/delight/holyshiznuggetswhy. My feels still hurt. Let's continue to keep the review board spoiler-free, please? I imagine there are people out there who still haven't see the movie yet.

To inujisan, guest reviewer, who left two reviews and one of them was lovely. Thank you.

Disclaimer: I do not own How to Train Your Dragon. I do own an assortment of OCs, a few of whom are trying to make me regret creating them.

How to Train Your Marching Band

Chapter Seventeen: The Morning After

Saturday morning hit like a brick.

Well, a wheelbarrow full of bricks, more accurately.

Saturday morning came crashing down hard and heavy on the entire band, raising a cloud of toilet humor and sleep deprivation. Across the length and breadth of the cafeteria stage had sprawled the seniors, in various stages of wakefulness. Or rather, in various stages of near incoherency. Particularly those who were suffering from the sugar crash that had occurred a few hours ago.

Which was all of them.

Hiccup felt awful. His eyes itched and his body was sore from the game of flashlight tag that had transformed into tackle tag. He felt like he might be coming down with something, though he wasn't. He had pulled all-nighters a few times in the past with the help of quite a lot of sugar, but he was usually allowed to sleep afterwards. He didn't sleep now because he knew that he would crash hard and there was still no indication that the parade would be called off on account of the weather. A hint of rain was in the air and the clouds were gray, but nothing was falling.

It was hard going, trying to stay awake -- or at least semi-coherent enough to be aware of what was going on around him. But he wasn't the only one who was struggling. Astrid was on her side nearby, deliberately trying to put herself in uncomfortable positions so she would be less tempted to drop off. Fishlegs was sitting upright and the even-ness of his breathing suggested he was mostly losing the battle. Snotlout looked like he had fallen where he was laying. Marie and Ruffnut were using each other's legs as pillows and Tuffnut had stretched out like a bear-skin rug.

His non-band friends (the lucky bastards) had succumbed to the sweet siren-call of sleep. Jack, Merida, and Rapunzel had stayed awake right alongside the other seniors, just as they had threatened to. They had made themselves useful in setting up the cafeteria and making breakfast. Rapunzel and Merida had been recruited as back-up dancers for one of their skits. Jack had been slotted into the position of emcee for the skit show, introducing each skit and telling terrible band jokes in between and generally working the crowd over.

He was now curled quite peacefully and comfortably across the back of a very not-amused Hiccup. He was not amused because Jack was about as bony as he was and the sight of him there was enough to draw lackluster sniggers out of everyone who saw it. Hiccup just buried his face in the fleece blanket and pretended he couldn't hear the laughter.

Fred (another lucky bastard) had passed out around four o'clock in the morning, much to Marie's disappointment. She had been much less disappointed when she realized that she would get to wake him up as rudely as the metronome volume let her. Fred wasn't a guy who could function adequately on three hours of sleep, so as soon as breakfast had finished, he'd found a patch of floor and had gone back to sleep.

Everyone else were simply fighting to stay awake.

"Why do we have to march in a gay pride parade?..." Snotlout wondered for the hundredth time in the last hour. "I mean... just because we change clothes on the bus doesn't somehow make us gay... Does it?"

"No." Everyone told him.

"Nah, just means we're used to the smell of ass-crack." Marie muttered, mostly into the floor. "It's like there's a pocket of fresh air at the front. Then deodorant, perfume, more perfume, more deodorant, ass, sweat, perfume, a little more deodorant, more sweat, more ass, a whole shit-load of perfume, and then another pocket of fresh air way at the very back."

"That sounds 'bout right." Astrid commented, an arm slung over her eyes. Ruffnut hummed in agreement.

"The girls' bus always smells nicer." Tuffnut pointed out.

"It doesn't smell so bad when you boys climb back on because it's had time to air out." Astrid added.

"'Kay, but that didn't answer my question." Snotlout pointed out. "Why do we have to march in a gay pride parade that has the longest fucking route in the world the Saturday of band camp when we're barely functional?"

"Because it shows that we're active in the community and supportive and tolerant of the various shades of queer." Astrid replied, yawning. "And we're the only marching band in the county."

"The only one worth mentioning." Marie added.

"Last year you said we should boycott the parade and moon the spectators." Ruffnut pointed out, her face twisting in confusion. "Actually, if we remember correctly, I think we did."

"You did. I pretended not to know you."

"And I'm the one who said that." Marie reminded them.

"But you didn't do it either." Ruffnut complained. It would have been more of a whine if she'd been feeling more energetic.

"I was feeling vindictive enough to say it, not enough to actually do it."

"Then why did you say it in the first place?"

"Because so many people were coming out as queer I felt like it was the new trend!" Marie complained aggravatedly, throwing up her hands. "Like they were just saying they were gay because everyone else was!"

"Some were legit, y'know." Astrid reminded her. "I'm pretty sure Holly Anderson wasn't caught in the back of the bus with Maggie What's-her-name because it was the popular thing to do. And don't forget about Sam, who didn't want to be Samantha any longer."

"How can I forget? His bra landed on my head." Hiccup grumbled.

Marie giggled. "You made such a funny spooked cat."

As far as body parts went, Sam was still very much a girl and still very bosomy. Which meant the bras he still needed to wear (because large, unsupported wads of flesh flapping about one's chest was painful and he couldn't find a binder that didn't fray under the awesome might of his boobage) had been large enough for a single cup to engulf Hiccup's head. The statement had been bold and daring, but the school had still suspended him for three days because it wasn't acceptable to strip off one's bra in the middle of health class and expose the chesticles for everyone to see.

"What I don't get is why we have such a large gay community. Is it the county name? Does it just scream 'gay' or something?" Tuffnut wondered.

"I hope not. I didn't think it was that fruity a name." Ruffnut grumbled back.

The gay and transgender community in Berk County was fantastically large and just getting larger because they all felt it was a good, accepting place to migrate to. Hiccup had his own theories as to why this was that he probably should not have formulated with Jack at three in the morning in the middle of a caffeine high, since they made as much sense as the Easter Bunny magically pooping chocolate.

"I think it's because 'Berkshire hunt' is Cockney rhyming slang for-- certain body parts on a lady." Hiccup paraphrased, since he couldn't bring himself to use the actual word.

"Boobs?" Tuffnut guessed.

"Think lower."

"Belly button?" Snotlout tried.

"A lot lower. That part you'll never see."

Snotlout blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you'll never get any." Ruffnut told him.

Astrid nodded. "Not with that attitude."

Tuffnut then let out a profound: "Ooohhh..." He sniggered. "I know what they're talkin' about. Hey, that actually kinda makes sense."

"What are they talking about?" Snotlout demanded. He was sure he could have figured it out on his own if his brain was working at the right speed.

"Your tab A will never be inserted in slot B is what that means." Marie said. She stretched out her arms, leaving them flopped on the floor above her head. "And quit whining about the parade, guys. We're gonna get rained out anyways."

Hiccup raised his head off the blanket. "How do you know? The clouds aren't even thick enough."

"I know more than you mortals."

It took a moment for her statement to penetrate the sleepy haze.

"Did you just say 'you mortals'?" Hiccup asked.

"No."

"What makes you so sure it's gonna rain?" Astrid wondered.

"What makes you so sure it won't?" Marie returned, tilting her head to make eye contact with the colorguard captain.

"What makes you so sure it will?"

"What makes you so sure it won't? Astrid, I can do this all day."

"So can I. Five-year old sister."

"Fifteen-year old brother."

"Ooh, I think there was a burn in there somewhere." Tuffnut said. "Hey, Fishlegs." Being out of reach from the flutist, he slapped the floor several times. "Was there a burn in there?"

Fishlegs didn't respond beyond a half-coherent grunt that really sounded more like a snore. Tuffnut let out a grunt of his own and turned to his sister to see if comparing one's fifteen-year old brother to another's five-year old sister constituted as a burn.

"Hey, Hiccup?" Astrid rolled over to face the prone clarinetist.

"Yeah?"

"Did I say 'thank you' for entertaining my sister last night?" Astrid wondered. In the whirlwind of things going on, she couldn't remember if she had.

Hiccup shrugged. "No, but Jack did most of the work. He loves kids, y'know."

"I didn't." Astrid admitted, putting her chin on her crossed arms. Admittedly, she didn't know very much about Jack in the first place, since he and Hiccup were kind of exclusive. Jack was a bit of a loner who didn't go out of his way to socialize, no matter how friendly he was on the surface. He was the sort of guy who preferred a small social circle and didn't venture much outside of it.

"Yeah, loves entertainin' 'em, makin' 'em laugh, makin' sure they have fun. He's really good with 'em." Hiccup said, smiling at some old memories.

"Yeah, saw some of that this morning. He was really having fun being the emcee." Astrid said.

"But you just like stroking his hair." the sixteen-year old said with a scoffing noise.

"In my defense, it's soft." the colorguard captain pointed out. On a whim, she reached forward and brushed her fingers through Hiccup's auburn hair. That action had the effect of making him freeze up very stiffly, but Astrid didn't notice. She was too busy forming a conclusion.

"Your's might be softer." she decided after a moment, withdrawing her hand.

"Might be?"

"Haven't stroked it enough to be sure."

Hiccup felt heat rush into his cheeks and his eyes widened. Sweet mother of crap, Astrid was flirting with him again. If it wasn't for Jack's weight on his back, he was certain he would have up and run, because Astrid had this nasty habit of getting semi-violent and threatening him right after she was done.

At the same time, he found himself wishing Astrid would go for another check to see how soft his hair was.

He took a deep breath and went to change the topic matter.

"Hey, Astrid?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you know the answer to this: Why is everyone so interested in whether or not we become a couple?" Hiccup had been thinking vaguely on it lately, that maybe Astrid understood it better. Girls were supposed to be better at understanding the complexities of human interaction.

"Because we'd be an unlikely couple." Astrid replied. "You're the geeky art-nerd in marching band and you play the clarinet, which isn't really associated with guys. I'm the blonde stunner who could take your head off in one swing and look like I should be on the cheerleading squad."

"Yeah..." Hiccup shamelessly thought about what Astrid might look like in a cheerleading uniform, with the short skirt and the form-fitting top and the pom-poms and the panty-exposing high-kicks--

A middle finger flicked him in the center of his forehead, banishing the images.

"Stop thinking about me like that." Astrid ordered.

"Still sixteen." was how he defended himself.

"You'll be seventeen next week, but I turned eighteen months ago." she reminded him. "I'm at least a year and half older than you. It'd be like statutory rape or something. Probably illegal somehow."

"If it helps, that's usually as far as I go. I don't even read porn." Hiccup told her. At her disbelieving look he added: "It's not that I didn't try once, but Jack found the magazines under the floorboards in his closet and Jack lives in what would have been my grandparents' house."

The realization was slow to come on, but when it hit in full, Astrid's jaw dropped. "You mean the magazines were your..." She couldn't finish as words failed her.

"My dad's porn stash." Hiccup confirmed. "It really put me off."

With two years between that incident and now, it didn't wig him out quite as much as it used to, but it was enough to make him shudder. Admittedly, he had been less turned on and more flabbergasted at what was going on in the pictures because they hadn't looked real much less anatomically possible. And he was probably not going to look at the "Howling Commandos" quite the same way again.

Astrid giggled at his mortification.

"Oh, you poor baby. That's the worst." she cooed, brushing her fingers over his hair while she struggled not to laugh any louder. "How did your dad take that discovery?"

"He was surprisingly cool about it. Said he'd been my age once and he understood and then went on about how page seventy-five was the best and that's when I realized what I was holding..." He buried his face into the fleece and tried to focus on the sensation of Astrid's fingers touching his hair rather than the lingering horror.

"What'd you guys do with the magazines?" the colorguard captain asked curiously. "You didn't keep them, did you?"

"No, we burnt 'em." the clarinetist grunted. "We thought about selling them, but we didn't think World War Two-themed porn from the eighties would have a high street value. Not to mention the Captain America blasphemy; that was eye-searing. And seriously, why the hell would I want to hang on to porn that my dad- y'know... had fun-times with. I mean seriously Astrid, why?"

"Well, mostly because you're a guy and you're a teenager and those were porn magazines." Astrid said lightly.

Hiccup snorted. "Porn magazines that belonged to my dad." he said in a horrified whisper.

"You could have given them to Snotlout."

"Thought about it. Would have ended poorly."

Astrid bit her lip thoughtfully while it became very easy to see what Snotlout would have done with the information that his weenie, nerdy loser of a cousin had attempted to get off on skin mags that had previously belonged to his father. She could see how that would have ended poorly.

"You just don't have good luck with the rites of passage of teenager-hood, do you." she commented sympathetically.

"Yeah, first time I drove, I put Truck-Zilla in the river, ran over a squirrel, rear-ended a Snaptrapper, and popped a tire." Hiccup agreed. All that had occurred in just twenty minutes of actual driving time. He was inclined to blame most of the mistakes on Truck-Zilla's sheer mass. It wasn't a good vehicle for first-time drivers.

The Snaptrapper had been alright. They were tough dragons.

Astrid laid a hand on his wrist.

Hiccup raised his head. Astrid was right there, right in front him. She looked positively exhausted with her hair mussy and drooping, blue eyes almost too bright and some of the color had gone from her face due to fatigue. She hadn't burned in the sun, but instead had tanned to a rather lovely shade. And her smile, though plainly weary, had a light to it that was just so Astrid that, for a second, Hiccup couldn't believe he was allowed to see it.

"I'm telling you, in that episode they should have had a Joker cameo! I mean they already had Mark Hamill in there. It wouldn't have been too much trouble to have the guy rip his face off and start giggling maniacally and chasing after Fan Boy with a rusty knife or something! It's like a contractual obligation, just like Nathan Fillion's ongoing bitterness about 'Firefly' being canceled!"

The meaningful moment was promptly ruined and shattered to bits by that comment. Having not heard the lead-in, it was little more than an amusing non-sequitur. Astrid muffled a snigger into her arms

"Huh, that got off track quickly." Hiccup muttered. "How does a debate about verbal burns turn into a complaint about a lack of Joker cameos?"

"When Marie's involved, conversations get weird fast if you're not paying attention." Astrid said.

"Oh, I've been there." Hiccup sniggered. "One started about how drinking Kool-Aid was the closest you would get to drinking color and it ended with her talking about how to make your burps louder and more impressive."

"Earthquakes, and then something about the Eiffel Tower." Astrid countered.

"Alien invasion. Ten minutes later, Norse mythology. Why the Sleipnir myth was all wrong."

"Duct tape as an all-purpose fix-it tool, then the origin of cucumbers."

Hiccup blinked. "Origin of cucumbers?"

"That's right." Astrid nodded. "I regret tuning that one out. I really want to know how she went from duct tape to vegetables."

From the sky overhead came a less-than gentle rumble. Astrid's head shot up and she locked eyes with the clarinet section-leader.

"Was that thunder?" she asked hopefully.

"I think it was. They won't let us march if there's a thunderstorm." Hiccup said, nodding furiously.

Astrid clasped her hands together in a prayer position. "Oh please let that be thunder. Big storm, lots of rain and flashy lightning, please. I just wanna go home now and sleep for real."

When a second, more defined rumble of thunder rolled over the school's roof, she let out a cheer of renewed appreciation for Mother Nature's fickle ways. The cheer was echoed by most of the seniors and a sense of palpable relief rolled off the rest of the band like a wave.

"Yes..." Tuffnut groaned more than cheered. "The gods have had mercy on us. I'll slaughter the goat later."

"I hope he's not actually going to slaughter a goat." Astrid muttered.

"He lives in too nice a neighborhood to get away with it." Hiccup assured her. "And bloodstains are really hard to get out of wood floors and I only know that because Dad's knives aren't always dry." he added before she could start looking horrified that he knew it at all.

"Ahem."

The awake members of the group looked over at the source of the noise. Marie had rolled onto her stomach, her chin resting in her hands with her legs bent back on themselves and a shit-eating grin painted across her face.

"I'm going to say it and you can't stop me." she warned them, voice full of smug. "I told you there'd be rain, bitches."

Sharing an eye-roll with Astrid, Hiccup just let his head fall back onto the blanket.

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