Chapter 1: Cordially uninformed
Summary:
the competition is announced
Chapter Text
Tuffnut Thorston was not a morning person.
Which was why it was so alarming when he slammed open the guesthouse kitchen door at precisely 7:06 AM, a tattered clipboard under one arm, hair exploding in every direction, and a grin that should have been illegal before coffee.
"GATHER ROUND, MARRIED PEASANTS!" Tuffnut yelled, his voice cracking like a rooster in puberty.
Ruffnut, still in Snotlout's hoodie and holding a mug of chamomile tea, lifted a single eyebrow. "Tuff, it's too early to be whatever this is."
"It's never too early for glory!" Tuffnut announced, slamming the clipboard on the kitchen counter.
Heather blinked, her Afghan Hound, Windshear, standing protectively by her legs, while Fishlegs sat beside her with Meatlug, his aggressively affectionate Shih Tzu, trying to climb into Windshear's personal bubble.
Dagur, arms folded, glanced at Mala, who adjusted her flowy silk robe over her tank top and leggings, amused.
"What's this about, Tuff?" Snotlout grumbled, running a hand through his bed-mussed hair.
Tuffnut took a deep breath and threw his arms open dramatically, "I am officially launching the first annual Post-Marriage Flirt-Off."
Silence.
Ruffnut spat out her tea.
Heather made a strangled noise that was half-laugh, half-scream.
Fishlegs nearly fell off his stool, Meatlug yipping excitedly and slamming into Windshear, who responded by pointedly ignoring her.
Dagur's eyes lit up, the chaotic older brother energy practically leaking from his skin. "I love this. Tell me more."
Mala sighed but smiled, her hand finding Dagur's. "We've been married a month longer than the rest of you. Does this mean we're the judges?"
Tuffnut lifted a finger, shaking it. "Wrong! I am the judge, the announcer, the scoreboard keeper, and the scandal score distributor. YOU are the contestants."
Heather's eyes narrowed. "What's the prize?"
Tuffnut wiggled his eyebrows. "Bragging rights. Eternal glory. The title of Scandal Kings and Queens of New Berk."
Dagur pumped a fist. "Finally, a competition worth winning."
Ruffnut crossed her arms, smirking. "You think you can beat me?"
"Uh, obviously."
Heather and Fishlegs exchanged a glance, Windshear and Meatlug continuing their comedic, silent drama in the corner.
"I don't know," Fishlegs said softly, "Hiccup and Astrid—"
"—are disqualified!" Tuffnut interrupted.
Everyone paused.
Dagur blinked. "Wait, why?"
"Because they would win, and we all know it." Tuffnut shuddered dramatically, tapping the clipboard with a pen. "They don't even try and it's like we're watching a softcore domestic romance movie live. I refuse to compete with that."
Heather snorted. "Yeah, that's fair."
Ruffnut grimaced, remembering last week when she accidentally walked in on Hiccup sitting on the counter in the main house, Astrid standing between his legs, hands in his hair while he kissed her temple, both of them laughing about some inside joke. It was so soft it had made her soul hurt.
"So, they're not competing?" Snotlout clarified.
"They don't even know this is happening," Tuffnut confirmed, scribbling on his scoreboard titled:
Post-Marriage Flirt-Off: Rankings
Dagur & Mala
Heather & Fishlegs
Snotlout & Ruffnut
(Hiccup & Astrid - ineligible, but with a small flame doodle beside their names)
"Now," Tuffnut said, "the game is simple: you go about your week, be scandalous, be affectionate, be the couple you think you are—"
Dagur leaned forward, smirking. "What counts as scandalous, Tuff?"
"Anything that makes the rest of us uncomfortable enough to consider therapy," Tuffnut deadpanned. "But no inter-couple flirting, and no crossing lines. This is about how naturally spicy your marriage is."
Heather rolled her eyes but smiled. Mala nodded, patting Dagur's hand.
"Are you sure about this, Tuff?" Fishlegs asked nervously. "I mean…isn't it a little weird?"
Tuffnut's eyes glinted. "We're married. We're adults. But someone has to be the spice police around here, and it's going to be me."
Outside the window, the main house glowed softly in the morning light, wildflowers waving in the breeze around the ivy-draped stone walls. Wisteria vines spilled purple blossoms across the porch. The sea beyond it glittered, and there, in the kitchen window, Astrid appeared, hair in a loose braid, flowy sundress swirling around her legs as she stood on tiptoes to kiss Hiccup's cheek while he leaned over the counter, flipping pancakes with a sleepy smile, wearing a simple linen tunic and a soft apron.
They were laughing about something, Astrid ruffling his hair, Hiccup leaning into the touch without hesitation, like they were sharing the same air.
The gang fell silent, watching the scene.
"See," Tuffnut whispered dramatically, "that is why they're banned."
Ruffnut clutched her chest. "Why is that so—"
"Soft?" Heather offered.
"Romantic?" Mala added.
"Dangerously powerful?" Dagur finished.
Snotlout wiped a single fake tear. "They're going to kill us."
Tuffnut slammed the clipboard down with finality. "No. They're disqualified. We will not speak of them during this competition, ever. Now, get ready. The Flirt-Off starts now."
Astrid was humming as she folded laundry in the living room, a record playing softly in the background, the gentle strum of a classical guitar drifting through the ivy-shadowed windows. The air smelled like wildflowers and the faintest hint of pancakes.
Toothless, their sleek black Bengal cat, lounged on the sun-warmed windowsill, tail flicking lazily as he watched Astrid move, while Stormfly, their seal-mink Bengal, perched on the back of the couch, purring in approval.
Hiccup arrived home from a quick council call at the town hall, still in his rolled-up linen sleeves, wind in his hair. The moment he stepped through the door, Astrid looked up, eyes brightening with that private glow that only ever appeared for him.
She beckoned him closer without a word.
He crossed the room, slipping his arms around her waist from behind, burying his face into the crook of her neck, exhaling softly as if the world outside didn't exist when she was there.
Astrid's hand reached up to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly, grounding him. Her other hand continued folding a shirt with practiced ease.
"I missed you," Hiccup murmured.
"I know," she whispered, a smile in her voice. "I missed you too."
The gang, having decided to "accidentally" drop off a basket of eggs, stood frozen at the open window, watching, completely unnoticed.
Hiccup pulled back enough to kiss her temple, then her jaw, before moving to fold laundry beside her, shoulder brushing hers, a soft domestic dance of movement in perfect sync.
Hiccup offered his hand and Astrid took it bowing and giggling as they began to sway. Gentle music slowly started playing in the background, their bodies flush against each other, eyes lost in each other.
Astrid hummed again, her voice melodic as she pressed her side against his, letting him lean into her, their heads touching.
Ruffnut made a strangled sound outside.
Heather slapped her hand over Ruffnut's mouth, eyes wide.
Snotlout's jaw was on the ground.
Dagur, eyes suspiciously soft, whispered to Mala, "Why are they like this?"
Mala just smiled, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Because they're happy."
Chapter 2: Sea air and Soft kisses
Summary:
the first glance of madness
Chapter Text
Alright, gather 'round, married peasants," Tuffnut announced, thumping a homemade cardboard scoreboard against the kitchen counter of the guesthouse.
Ruffnut, sprawled across the couch in a robe, blinked. "Tuff, we're literally all married. Also, what is that?"
"This—" Tuffnut brandished it like it was an ancient relic—"is the scoreboard. The Flirt-Off Official Tracking Device. We will record points based on who can make the others gag with how in love you are."
"Are we really doing this?" Snotlout asked, spooning cereal into his mouth, his hair a mess from Ruff's braiding attempts last night. "Like, actually competing on who's the most annoyingly married?"
Dagur swaggered in with Mala, both already dressed in matching black shirts that read KING and QUEEN in gold. "Obviously, we're going to win. We're the gurus of marriage. You're welcome."
Heather sighed, sipping coffee while petting WindShear, who was pretending not to notice Meatlug staring dreamily from the corner like a lovesick soap opera protagonist. "This is going to get ridiculous."
Fishlegs, clutching Meatlug's leash, mumbled, "She's already ridiculous."
"But adorable!" Tuffnut retorted, scribbling Meatlug ️to WindShear ️on the bottom corner of the scoreboard before clapping his hands. "Now, ground rules: No inter-couple cheating, no open make-out sessions in the living room, and no baby you's running around, obviously, but full permission to annoy us with how in love you are. Extra points for subtlety that still makes everyone combust. Let's go!"
Meanwhile, at the Haddock-Hofferson Estate…
Hiccup was on a stepladder outside the stone cottage, fairylights twinkling around the ivy climbing the walls. The morning breeze carried the scent of sea salt and lavender. Astrid stepped out, barefoot in a soft cream flowy dress, brushing her hair back, her eyes glinting as she watched him.
"You're going to fall," she called, arms crossed, though her smile betrayed her fondness.
Hiccup glanced down, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. "Nah, I'm fine, babe."
Astrid's eyebrow twitched at babe.
She walked over, hands sliding to his ankles on the bottom rung, steadying the ladder. "Careful, milord," she teased.
His eyes softened. "Milady."
The gang, having come up the path with baskets of fruit, paused at the gate.
Heather was the first to hiss, "Don't stare, don't stare—"
But it was impossible.
Astrid tugged lightly on his ankle. "Done yet?"
"Almost," he replied, twisting the last fairylight hook in place. When he climbed down, she didn't step back. Instead, she reached up, smoothing the collar of his soft linen tunic, brushing a smudge of dust from his cheek.
They were so close, the moment stretching like the lazy summer wind, until Hiccup leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then a brief kiss on her lips.
She huffed a laugh, leaning her forehead to his. "Dork."
"Love you too."
The gang combusted.
Snotlout was clutching the fence rail. "Are they—are they even trying?"
Heather was fanning herself. "I feel like I just watched something I shouldn't have."
Dagur was scribbling on Tuffnut's scoreboard, giving them "10/10, accidental."
Tuffnut's eyes sparkled. "They don't even know they're competing, and they're winning."
Back inside
Astrid was folding laundry by the open window, humming softly, wearing one of Hiccup's oversized tunics that fell to mid-thigh, sleeves rolled up. She smelled like soap and sea air. Hiccup entered, brushing sawdust off his hands, eyes lighting up when he saw her.
"Home early," she noted, continuing to fold.
He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple. She hummed, leaning back into him.
The laundry forgotten, Astrid turned, draping her arms around his neck. "Missed you," she mumbled.
"Missed you too," he whispered, brushing another kiss across her cheek.
The gang, who had come to the window to call them for berry-picking, were rooted to the spot.
"They're still going," Ruffnut whispered.
Heather buried her face in her hands. "How are they so casually scandalous?"
Tuffnut scribbled, "Hiccstrid - 20 pts - married power," under their names.
Later that evening
The gang gathered for dinner on the outdoor deck under the wisteria, string lights swaying. Hiccup was flipping oatcakes at the outdoor stove, still wearing his apron over loose pants, humming to himself, while Astrid leaned against the counter, hair damp from a shower, wrapped in one of his shirts, sipping tea and muttering about something or the other.
Every now and then, she reached over to ruffle his hair or press a kiss to his shoulder as she passed to grab plates. Hiccup grinned each time, eyes flicking to hers with warm adoration.
They weren't even doing anything outrageous.
But every couple in the gang sat there, plates in hand, feeling like they were witnessing something too intimate, too soft, too real.
Dagur leaned to Mala. "We could do that, you know."
Mala raised a brow. "Could you cook?"
Dagur scowled. "Details."
Tuffnut scribbled furiously : Hiccstrid - 30 pts - "what are we even competing for."
Chapter 3: Abrupt interruptions and apple pie
Summary:
hiccstrid bake apple pie
Chapter Text
It started with Hiccup rummaging in the pantry.
“Astrid, where’s the cinnamon?”
Astrid appeared in the doorway, wearing one of his sweatshirts (that fell halfway to her knees) and leggings, hair in a messy braid, mug in hand. She leaned against the frame, smirking. “Top shelf, behind the coffee beans.”
Hiccup, standing on his tiptoes, grunted, “You hid it on purpose.”
“Maybe.” She sipped her tea, eyes twinkling. “Maybe I wanted to see you stretch.”
He paused, looking over his shoulder with that crooked grin that made her knees feel weirdly soft. “Oh, is that what we’re doing today?”
The gang enters.
“Are they baking?” Snotlout asked, sniffing the air dramatically.
Ruffnut, in pajama shorts and slippers, poked Tuffnut in the ribs. “They’re baking. That means flour fights.”
Heather whispered, “And couple goals.”
Dagur swaggered in with Mala, carrying a basket of apples. “We’re here to judge. As always.”
Tuffnut, clutching the Flirt-Off Scoreboard, hissed, “Quiet, it’s starting.”
The Great Pie Attempt
Astrid rolled up her sleeves, took a deep breath, and plunged her hands into the flour.
“You’re not supposed to put your hands in it like that,” Hiccup said, trying not to laugh, brushing flour off her cheek.
She raised a brow, smearing flour across his nose with one finger. “And you’re supposed to let me try.”
“Oh, you want to try?” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her flour-dusted forehead, eyes crinkling with warmth.
She blushed, despite herself. “Shut up.”
Flour Fight Initiated
The moment she looked away to grab the rolling pin, he flicked flour at her.
Astrid gasped, eyes wide, “Hiccup!”
“Sorry,” he deadpanned, “my hand slipped.”
“Oh, it’s on.”
Flour flew. Hiccup ducked behind the counter. Astrid lobbed a handful, hitting him square in the hair. He sputtered, blinking through white dust.
“Oh, you’re going down, Hofferson,” he laughed, grabbing a handful in retaliation.
Meanwhile, the gang watched in traumatized silence from the doorway.
Heather hid behind Fishlegs. “They’re literally… adorable.”
Ruffnut whispered, “I’m going to be sick.”
Snotlout was holding back a grin. “Why is this so much better than TV?”
Dagur was scribbling on the scoreboard: Hiccstrid – +10 pts (flour war).
The Calm After the Storm
The kitchen looked like a snowstorm had hit. Flour dusted the counters, floor, and them. Astrid was laughing, cheeks flushed, hair covered in white powder, leaning back against the counter as Hiccup approached, flour in his hair, eyes warm.
He gently pressed his forehead to hers. “Truce?”
She grinned, brushing flour off his cheek. “Truce.”
Then she kissed him. Soft, sweet, quick—but somehow made the entire gang, still watching, lose their collective minds.
Snotlout dropped the apple he was eating. “Oh come on!”
Dagur threw his hands up. “Can you not be a romcom for two seconds?”
Tuffnut scribbled furiously: Hiccstrid – +20 pts (“I can’t do this anymore, they’re too married.”)
They Actually Bake the Pie
Despite the mess, Hiccup guided Astrid’s hands as they rolled out the dough together, pressing the crust into the pan, sprinkling cinnamon on the apples. They shared quiet smiles, leaning into each other naturally, fingers brushing as they worked.
“See?” Hiccup murmured, brushing a stray braid behind her ear. “Baking isn’t so scary.”
She lifted her chin, giving him a playful shove. “Only because you did most of the work.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple, ignoring the peanut gallery’s scandalized squeals. “I like working with you.”
Pie Reveal
As the pie baked, the scent of cinnamon and apple filled the kitchen. The gang, who had “just happened” to stay for dessert, hovered like vultures.
Astrid, wiping flour from her arms, leaned into Hiccup’s side as he cut the first slice, whispering something that made him laugh softly, their shoulders pressed together.
They looked so settled. So soft. So annoyingly in love.
“Alright, you two win today,” Tuffnut admitted, holding up the scoreboard with a new total:
HICCSTRID – 60 PTS – “THEY DON’T EVEN TRY.”
The pie was delicious.
They shared a slice, forks tapping against the plate, while the gang watched in scandalized, speechless awe.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Right we're going in." Snotlout determined, banging the door open to see Astrid sitting on the windowsill, legs swinging, listening and giggling as Hiccup loaded the dishwasher, both of them oblivious to a the interruption which was now frozen in shock in the doorway. She tossed him an apple slice.
He caught it in his mouth.
"I think you mean we're going out." Ruffnut said, grabbing Snotlout's shoulders dragging her husband and closing the door behind them.
The sound of laughter followed them out, abruptly cut off by what the gang could only imagine as a kiss.
Chapter 4: Pillow forts and potato people
Summary:
hiccup has a momment of genius that astrid will never let him forget
Chapter Text
he storm rolled in early that morning, thunder rumbling as rain pelted the windows. Hiccup and Astrid stood in the kitchen, mugs in hand, watching the downpour soak the yard.
"No way we're going out in that," Astrid said, hair tucked into a loose braid, one of Hiccup's hoodies drowning her frame.
Hiccup smirked, "Blanket fort?"
She raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "Youseriouslystill build those?"
"Don't act like you're above blanket forts," he shot back, bumping her hip with his. "You're the queen of cozy."
She poked him in the chest, "I'll only help if there's snacks."
Construction Begins
They dragged every pillow, comforter, and throw blanket into the living room, Hiccup engineering the fort with chairs and broom handles, while Astrid carefully lined the inside with fairy lights and layered plush blankets on the floor.
It was warm, cozy, and smelled like cinnamon from the leftover pie.
Astrid plopped down inside, crossing her legs, looking up at the twinkling lights. "Not bad, Haddock."
He crawled in after her, hair falling over his forehead, grinning as he adjusted a blanket that fell from the top. "It's not finished until the test."
"What test?"
He flopped backward, arms out, and everythingheld. "Test passed."
Astrid laughed, falling next to him, their shoulders touching as they stared up at the blanket ceiling.
The Gang Arrives (of course)
Thunder rumbled, and a knock came at the door.
"WE HEARD THERE'S A FORT," Tuffnut yelled, barging in with Ruffnut.
Snotlout peeked around them, "Do youalwaysdo weird couple stuff?"
Heather slipped in behind them, holding a tub of popcorn, Fishlegs at her side with a board game. Dagur and Mala followed, dripping wet, shaking off umbrellas.
"You guysmade a fort," Dagur deadpanned, eyes shining. "Respect."
Tuffnut pulled out the Flirt-Off Scoreboard. "If they cuddle in the fort, that's an auto 30 points."
Inside the Fort
They settled in, the storm making the world outside fade to a gentle hush as rain drummed on the roof. The gang spread out with snacks and card games, but somehow Hiccup and Astrid found themselves curled up in the corner, sharing a single blanket.
Astrid's knees pressed against Hiccup's knee, warm and grounding. His hand drifted absentmindedly to her thigh, squeezing lightly, and she didn't move away.
"Are you two even aware of how you look right now?" Snotlout called, exasperated.
"Nope," Hiccup replied, pulling the blanket tighter around Astrid's shoulders.
Reading by Lantern Light
As the power flickered, Fishlegs produced a camping lantern, setting it in the middle of the fort, casting a warm glow on their faces.
Astrid pulled out an old book she found on the shelf. "Story time?"
Hiccup leaned closer, reading over her shoulder, breath brushing her cheek as he whispered, "You always read the voices wrong."
"Oh, please, I'mgreatat voices."
"You made the villain sound like Tuffnut last time."
Tuffnut, from the other side of the fort, "Iamthe villain!"
Someone call 911
Astrid stood up hands on her hips, feet splayed outward, adopting her goofiest grin. "Potatoes have skin. And we have skin. So we are all potatoes!"
The gang collectively squeaked from the other side of the fort, causing Hiccup to hide his face in a pillow, mortified "Oh come on! Don't tell me it doesn't make sense!"
The Moment
As the lantern dimmed, Astrid closed the book and turned to him, their faces inches apart. Rain drummed on the roof, a lullaby.
"You're warm," she murmured.
He chuckled softly, "You're freezing."
She rolled her eyes but didn't pull away, leaning closer until her forehead pressed lightly against his.
The Scoreboard
Tuffnut scribbled dramatically on the scoreboard:
HICCSTRID – 30 pts (blanket fort accurate impression)
TOTAL: 90 PTS – "Too cozy. Unfair advantage."
Chapter 5: Grocery shopping and gang observation
Summary:
hiccstrid go shopping
Chapter Text
Rain clouds finally cleared the next morning, leaving a cool breeze drifting through open windows. The fort was still up in the living room, a sleepy, cozy reminder of yesterday’s laughter, but Astrid was already in the kitchen, hunting for coffee.
Hiccup shuffled in, hair sticking up, wearing a faded “Berk Engineering Club” t-shirt, blinking sleepily.
“We’re out of coffee,” Astrid announced, deadpan, holding up an empty bag like it was a war crime.
His eyes widened. “That’s… catastrophic.”
She folded her arms, blue eyes narrowing. “Grocery run?”
He smirked, “Only if you can beat me in the Grocery Store Bet.”
The Bet
“The what?” Astrid demanded, grabbing her keys.
“Whoever finds the weirdest, most unnecessary item at the store wins,” Hiccup explained, slipping on his boots. “Loser carries the bags.”
She arched an eyebrow, “You’re on.”
From the living room, Tuffnut yelled, “We’re coming too!”
“NO,” Hiccup and Astrid shouted in unison.
Naturally, the gang followed anyway.
At the Store
Astrid grabbed one of the tiny baskets, determined, while Hiccup pushed a cart, the two of them moving through the produce section like a tactical unit.
Hiccup snatched up a starfruit, inspecting it dramatically. “Exotic, but practical.”
Astrid shot him a smirk, “Amateur.” She tossed in a jar of spicy pickle cotton candy she found on an endcap.
He looked genuinely alarmed. “That’s a crime against humanity.”
“Which means I’m winning.”
As they moved down the aisles, Astrid’s light blue flannel slipped off her shoulder, revealing the thin tank top she’d thrown on in the rush. Hiccup glanced over, brows furrowing.
“You’re cold,” he said, before she could protest, slipping off his heavier flannel and draping it around her shoulders.
Astrid paused, fingers tightening around the basket handle, face softening for a fraction of a second before she masked it with a playful eye roll. “Fine. But I’m not giving it back.”
“Wasn’t planning on taking it back,” he muttered.
The Gang Spies
Behind a stack of discount cereal, Ruffnut whispered, “Are they flirting or married?”
Heather, holding her phone to record them, whispered, “They’re so domestic.”
Tuffnut was sketching them in his Flirt-Off logbook. “+10 points for the flannel exchange.”
Snotlout nearly knocked over a display as he tried to get a better view, earning a glare from Fishlegs.
Aisle Shenanigans
Astrid spotted Hiccup trying to slip squid ink spaghetti into the cart.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she grabbed it, dropping it into her basket instead, “Mine now.”
“That’s cheating!”
“All’s fair in grocery bets and roommate wars.”
They argued over an overpriced kombucha flavor neither could pronounce before Astrid sprinted to grab it first, Hiccup chasing her down the aisle, nearly colliding into her as she giggled breathlessly, clutching the bottle like a trophy.
She turned around, his chest inches from hers, her back nearly against the shelf. Both froze, breathing heavily, their laughter tapering into quiet.
“Are you done cheating now?” he asked softly, eyes flicking from her eyes to her lips before quickly back up.
Astrid’s heart skipped, but she grinned, “Not even close.”
Checkout
They stood at self-checkout, sorting their items.
“Spicy pickle cotton candy,” the machine droned.
“Squid ink spaghetti.”
“Truffle hot sauce.”
“Glow-in-the-dark ice cubes.”
The cashier peered over, judgment in her eyes, before scanning the last item: a pineapple-shaped neon lamp Astrid found on clearance.
She smirked, “I win.”
Hiccup sighed dramatically but took the basket from her anyway, carrying it in one hand while pushing the cart with the other.
“Cheater,” he muttered, but there was warmth in his voice.
Walking Home
The air was crisp, the sidewalk wet but glinting in the sun. Astrid wore Hiccup’s flannel, sleeves dangling over her hands, the scent of cedar and soap clinging to the fabric.
“You realize this is the third time you’ve worn my clothes this week,” Hiccup teased.
“Because you keep giving them to me,” she shot back.
“Because you keep forgetting to wear a jacket,” he argued.
She bumped his hip, grinning. “Maybe I just like yours better.”
His steps stuttered, a small smile curling on his lips as he glanced down at her. “Yeah. That’s fine.”
Back at the House
The gang was waiting on the porch, pretending to “sunbathe” while clearly spying.
Tuffnut held up the Flirt-Off scoreboard, updating it in front of them:
HICCSTRID: +10 (flannel) +5 (domestic grocery banter) +10 (protective gestures) = +25 pts
“Are we still pretending this is a competition?” Heather called, shaking her head.
Astrid shot them a mock glare, but Hiccup just shook his head, carrying the bags inside with Astrid trailing close, still wearing his flannel.
Ending Scene
They unpacked groceries together, laughter echoing as Hiccup made disgusted faces at the spicy pickle cotton candy while Astrid threatened to open it immediately.
“Maybe we’ll share it,” she teased, popping it on the counter.
He glanced at her, soft and unguarded for a moment. “Yeah. Maybe we will.”
And as the afternoon sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the domestic chaos, it felt like the quiet beginning of something neither of them was quite ready to name.
Chapter 6: Baking and a boogie
Chapter Text
The rain returned that evening — soft, steady drumming against the windows. Inside the warm kitchen, the glow from under-cabinet lights turned the space golden. Astrid had declared it was baking night.
Hiccup leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, watching Astrid rifle through drawers for a whisk. She wore his flannel again, sleeves pushed to her elbows, hair tied in a loose knot that somehow made her look both chaotic and effortlessly pretty.
“Do you even know how to bake?” he asked, smirking.
She turned, wielding the whisk like a weapon. “How hard can cookies be?”
He snorted. “Famous last words.”
Prepping the Chaos
Twenty minutes later, flour dusted every surface — including them. There were measuring cups in the sink, chocolate chips rolling under the fridge, and Astrid cackling as she flicked flour at him.
“Careful!” Hiccup protested as a cloud of white powder poofed over his hair. “This is a brand-new t-shirt.”
“You’re a liar, that shirt is older than our lease.”
She leaned over the counter to steal a chocolate chip from the bag he was guarding. He caught her wrist, grinning. “That’s cheating.”
She tugged her hand back but slipped a chip into her mouth anyway, lips curling mischievously. “What are you gonna do about it?”
The Flirt-Off Spectators
Of course, the gang had migrated to the living room couch. They peeked over the half-wall into the kitchen like kids spying on parents. Tuffnut whispered to Ruffnut: “I give it ten minutes before they either make out or destroy the oven.”
Heather filmed discreetly, zooming in every time Hiccup’s hands brushed Astrid’s waist.
The Dance-Off Begins
A cheesy pop song came on Hiccup’s playlist — something old and upbeat with way too much synth. Astrid started swaying, humming under her breath as she stirred the batter.
Hiccup watched, amused. “You dance while baking?”
She shrugged, hips moving to the beat. “Helps me focus.”
“You look ridiculous,” he teased.
She whirled around, pointing the spoon at him. “Better than your sad college-boy shuffle.”
He narrowed his eyes, setting down the mixing bowl. “Oh, is that a challenge?”
“Everything’s a challenge with you.”
One Song, Two Idiots
She tugged him forward by the edge of his t-shirt. Laughing, Hiccup rested his hands on her hips, hesitant for half a second — then she grinned and looped her arms around his neck.
The spoon clattered to the counter as they half-swayed, half-bounced in the tiny kitchen, knocking elbows against drawers and nearly stepping on each other’s feet.
When Astrid twirled away dramatically, she knocked into the counter, sending a bag of flour toppling. Hiccup caught it — and her elbow — steadying her with a palm on her waist.
They froze for a heartbeat, breathing in each other’s space. The song kept playing, oblivious.
The Almost-Kiss
“Nice save,” she murmured.
He didn’t move his hand. “I’m good at those.”
His fingers brushed just under the hem of her flannel where her tank top had ridden up slightly, thumb grazing the warm skin at her hip. She shivered but didn’t step back.
“Your heart’s racing,” he said before he could stop himself. It came out softer than he meant it to.
“Yours too,” she shot back, eyes flicking to his lips — too quick to hide.
Behind them, Tuffnut whisper-shouted: “JUST DO IT, YOU COWARDS!”
Instead they just touched noses, grinning like idiots.
Cookies Save the Day
They worked in a flustered silence, both pretending they hadn’t nearly kissed over cookie dough. When Astrid bent to pull the cookie sheet from the oven, Hiccup crouched beside her to steady it, his knee bumping her thigh.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice low.
“I got it,” she shot back, cheeks pink.
They placed the warm cookies on a wire rack while the gang drifted in to “inspect” their progress. Snotlout tried to steal one too early — Astrid smacked his hand with a spatula.
Heather smirked at them. “So, how’s the dance and bake?”
Astrid answered, deadpan: “Successful. And none of you get any until they cool.”
Hiccup looked at Astrid, trying not to grin as she nudged him with her shoulder. He nudged back, not moving away.
Post-Dance Fallout
Later, after the gang gave up and retreated, Astrid stood on tiptoe to tuck a leftover cookie into his mouth.
He nearly choked, laughing. “That’s your strategy now?”
“Better than letting you burn the next batch.”
Their hands brushed as they washed dishes side by side, soapy water warm between them.
“You know,” Astrid murmured, flicking a soap bubble onto his cheek, “if we did a real dance-off, you’d lose.”
“Oh, absolutely,” he admitted, pressing his hip into hers playfully. “But I’d lose with style.”
Axolotl_Cat on Chapter 1 Sun 13 Jul 2025 12:08AM UTC
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donald_duck1 on Chapter 1 Sun 20 Jul 2025 10:48PM UTC
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Sassy_Chic on Chapter 1 Sun 20 Jul 2025 04:45AM UTC
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donald_duck1 on Chapter 1 Sun 20 Jul 2025 10:48PM UTC
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Sassy_Chic on Chapter 1 Sun 20 Jul 2025 11:05PM UTC
Last Edited Sun 20 Jul 2025 11:06PM UTC
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donald_duck1 on Chapter 1 Mon 21 Jul 2025 01:42PM UTC
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donald_duck1 on Chapter 1 Mon 11 Aug 2025 08:23PM UTC
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