A/N – Yup. I did it. I wrote this one shot after watching the new season. So, SPOILERS. You've been warned. Also: fluffy smut. Hiccstrid, 100%.

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Title: Late One Night

She held onto his hand as he twirled her. Funny, she'd never pictured herself like she was: giddy, girly, and utterly… in love. Who would have thought? Astrid Hofferson, toughest girl on Berk, brightest warrior, future solider… had succumbed to love-sickness.

And, she was completely fine with it all. It had happened so naturally, so easily. She'd feared that if she entered into something more with Hiccup, everything would change, but nothing really had. They were still them, Hiccup and Astrid, but they were more.

Astrid leaned gently back into his chest as his other hand landed on her shoulder. The fingertips of his other hand grazed her side as he spoke with his hand.

"But, since we're staying, you up for a moonlit flight?"

She glanced his smile over her shoulder. It melted her heart like nothing else could.

"Of course," she said. How could she ever say no to those eyes?

They set out as the sun touched the western sea, its liquid gold and copper leaking into the waters. Stormfly and Toothless flew seamlessly together, around, over, under, and beside. She caught Hiccup's eye as they past each other; she laughed, he laughed.

It felt as though nothing else mattered in the world. She could get used to nights like these. Nights with Hiccup.

As they made their way back to the island, her thoughts drifted to the medallion that rested safety in her dresser back on the Edge.

They landed. Hiccup jumped off Toothless before he'd brought his wings back to himself. He appeared at Stormfly's side before she'd released the handlebars of the saddle.

"M'lady," he said, hand extended to her.

Smiling (she couldn't help it), she placed her hand into his. He grasped it lightly as she climbed down from the saddle. He didn't let go of her hand as she stood on the ground beside him.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, a causal question spoken softly, intimately.

Smiling at her own sudden awkwardness at the thought of saying it aloud, she said, "I-I still find it strange to think of you as my betrothed."

His eyes shifted to the side, and he let out that nervous chuckle of his. His eyes shifted back up to hers.

"I'm just glad I got to you before someone else did," he said.

"Like who?"

Who on Thor's green earth did he think had a chance of winning her over besides him?

A nervous chuckle. "I-I don't know, I'm sure there are plenty of… eligible Vikings out there."

"None of which could hope to be you," she said, sliding her other hand over their held hands. She found his knuckles with her fingertips. "No one out there is anything like you, Hiccup. And… even if I looked, I wouldn't be able to get you out of my head."

"That's something we have in common," he said.

"You can't stop thinking about you, either?"

He chuckled, and said, "You, Astrid. I've had trouble pushing you out of my thoughts since I was fourteen."

She blushed, although she wouldn't admit it. Of course, with Hiccup she would. She could admit anything to him.

His free hand settled on her waist. She stepped a little closer.

"It's getting a little late," she said, softly; she didn't need to speak very loud.

He nodded and hummed an agreement. His eyes drifted down to her lips; the skin there puckered in anticipation.

"We should be getting to sleep," he said, breath warm on her lips.

"We'll need to work on that oil you need tomorrow morning," she reminded him. "For your secret project."

"Then let's set up camp for the night," he said.

They hesitated; the space between them felt small, but sacred. The hum before the kiss, the thought of the touch, the intimacy, it all sizzled like a friendly lightning bolt of desire between them, never striking but always gathering strength.

She loved it. Hiccup, however, had a short patience for it, because he gave in first, as always; he closed the space and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her more tenderly than he had in a while, and it stirred the tiny Terrible Terrors in her stomach. They set her insides of fire.

Setting up camp didn't take long with two of them, and with a camp to set up just for the two of them. They'd packed two tents, but they set only one up. Without the others around to watch and cajole, they could share a single tent without worrying about prying eyes.

Astrid laid the blankets on bottoms. A plus side to sharing a tent was they had double the blankets, too, which meant double the warmth on the cold northern nights. Of course, sleeping beside Hiccup…

They left the campfire to die out. Stormfly and Toothless laid nose to nose around the tent.

Hiccup, ever the romantic gentleman, knelt and held the tent's canvas flap open. He motioned inside and looked at her without any urgency or lust. Taking his invitation, she ducked into the tent. She crawled along the blankets to one side. As she took a side, Hiccup followed her inside.

Her heart fluttered as the tent flap closed behind him. Suddenly, they were alone. Nothing else mattered. Nothing outside the tent existed. Surely, if she opened the tent's flaps she would see only endless stars and sea.

Astrid reclined back on her elbows as Hiccup crawled to the other side of the tent. Despite the few inches of space between them, he felt closer than he ever had. The sparse light of the fire that filtered through the tent sent shadows crawling along his features.

They sat for a moment just looking at each other. She'd never had his attention for such a prolonged moment, not like she had the last few weeks, and it brought a fire to her skin each time. After a beat, he lifted a hand and stroked her cheek. His rough fingertips grazed the surface of her skin, but sent a shockwave deep into her bones.

"Astrid," he said.

"Hm?"

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course, Hiccup."

"And you won't think I'm stupid?"

She reached up to his hand. "Of course, I won't."

He hesitated, then said, "You're beautiful."

She couldn't contain it; her face blushed as he said the words he'd only hinted at before.

"You're not exactly hard on the eyes, either," she said. She fingered his hair.

She might have been imagining things, but she thought a tint of pink came over his face, too.

"I mean it," he said.

"I've caught you staring," she said, embarrassed to admit it.

"You have?" Caution and panic sounded in his voice.

She smiled. She had glanced and spotted him watching her. She'd caught him doing it more often now that they had announced their relationship. But even before, she'd caught him watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"I've pretended not to notice," she whispered. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't… try a little harder."

"To do what?"

She chuckled. "I'm not sure I can explain it."

He returned her smile, and said, "Try me."

"I, uh, might… If I knew you were watching me, I mean, I might have picked something up… intentionally."

"I don't believe this," Hiccup said, mock-angry. He moved his hand from her face; it landed on her waist, just above her skirt. He lowered his voice, and said, "You flaunted your ass at me on purpose?"

She chuckled; he so rarely said such words.

"I might have," she said.

"Your mother would be furious."

She chuckled. His little finger twitched, and landed on the band of her skirt. His thumb rubbed the surface of her shirt.

She chuckled. She ran her fingers through his short hair, and when his hair left her fingers, she brought her hand down on his ear. She touched his jaw and ran her fingertips along the sharp edge of it. Her eyes followed her touch; down the shape of his ear, along his jaw, and down his neck to his shoulder.

"Hiccup," she said, mostly to hear his name on her lips.

She scooted closer to him, and he followed her lead and scooted closer to her. They met in the middle. He set his head back and she nestled into his chest, resting her temple against his chin.

They could stay like this, she realized, all night. It wasn't a hug she had to pull away from or end after a moment. She could stay just like this, so close to Hiccup, all night, and one day, every night.

Hiccup's hand curled around to her back, hugging her closer. Her knee bumped into his as she moved it, and draped her leg over his.

The smallest of sighs, sharp and quick, escaped his lips.

"Are you alright?" Astrid asked.

"I'm more than alright," he said in a breathy tone. "I'm… great."

"That's good to hear," she said.

"Is that so?"

"When we're married, we'll have every night," she said.

His hand tightened on her back. She fingered the collar of his shirt. Every night. Every single night, she would sleep next to him and wake up in his arms.

His hand on her waist twitched a finger or two lower. She shifted; one of his fingers ended up underneath the spiked layer. The sudden presence on the layer underneath felt a blaze of panic and warm nerves from his touch. His fingertip seemed to sink through the layer, through her leggings, and right to her skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm perfect," she said. She bit her lip. Did she dare?

She sat up suddenly, straddling his leg, much to Hiccup's surprise. His eyebrows rose and his arm hung limp in the air where she had been.

Oh, yes, she dared.

In a swift motion, she unhooked the pauldrons from her shoulders and tossed them aside. They landed in a heap to the side of the tent. Hiccup's sharp intake of breath was her only indication that he'd given a response.

"Astrid?" he said.

"I want to be comfortable," she said. With deft hands, she undid the belt holding up her skirt.

Hiccup didn't object. He didn't stop her. His hand fell to her knee. With a wiggle and a shimmy, her skirt joined her pauldrons. She returned to her place beside Hiccup. His arm came around her at once, setting around her shoulders and waist. Without her skirt to get in the way, his hand fell lower, nearly to her hip.

Hiccup tilted his head down and left a sweet, prolonged kiss on her temple.

"Hmm," she hummed.

His arms tightened. He shifted; she shifted in response; his lips meet hers with tender care. They kissed for a sweet moment; Hiccup shifted and deepened the kiss. She found her hands once again reaching for his hair.

Gods, he had such touchable hair.

She touched his hair freely; his hand wandered freely, albeit with a tender caution, down her hip, along her thigh, and back again. His fingers placed pressure on her skin, but without pulling or pushing.

Gods, she loved him.

She told him so, but it come out in a jumbled mumble of murmurs against his lips.

"Hmm?" Hiccup said. His hand paused on her hip.

"Hiccup," she started.

"I love you, too."

His mouth returned to hers a tint more feverish than before. He shifted, giving his hand more room to roam. His fingertips hesitated ever so slightly at the waist of her leggings, hidden underneath the longer hem of her shirt.

His tongue passed her bottom lip. Before he could pull it away, she leaned upward and sought out his warm tongue with her own. She pressed her mouth to his, and he let out a pleasurable moan as their tongues fought for dominance.

They broke apart, a bit breathless; somehow Hiccup had managed to shift. He propped himself up with one arm, while the other roamed, and leaned over her. Their legs had intertwined. Hiccup held himself just above her, looking down at her; his desire sizzled in the air between them, and the physical evidence pressed into her hip Hiccup's hand hadn't claimed.

"Astrid," he breathed. Hesitation.

He was giving her the decision. Continue, or stop. They'd stopped plenty of times. They'd kept up sweet kisses when no one was looking, tender kisses when alone, mild, innocent touches in intimate moments. Hiccup always gave the choice to her, silently saying that he would be alright with either choice she made.

It wouldn't be that bad, she supposed; no one would know; they would be married one day, anyway; and she loved him. Her body responded to his touch, his looks, his… carnal arousal. It tugged on her own like a hook behind her navel.

She fingered the hair behind his ear where she'd planted a braid or two. Her claim to ward off any idle-minded Viking women looking for a husband. Hiccup was hers. He'd always been hers.

"I'm yours," she whispered to him.

His fingers on her waist squeezed, a pale breath fell from his throat. She shifted, flat on her back. She held her hand in his hair.

"I've always been yours," she said.

He kissed her and whispered her name against her lips. Slowly, his cautious, gentle fingers slipped underneath the hem of her shirt. His calloused fingers grazed her flesh above her leggings, and she gasped at the feeling on her sensitive skin.

His lips paused. His eyes flickered open.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said, tugging on his hair.

"We don't have to-"

She tugged on his hair. "Touch me."

She didn't mean to sound so needy, but Hiccup didn't seem to mind; he pressed his lips to hers and reached his hand entirely underneath her shirt. He flattened his palm against her skin, cool from the night air, warm from him.

Gods, she wanted him to touch her – everywhere.

Hiccup's hand wandered along her skin, slower than before, as if searching for something so faint he feared missing it. His fingers wandered up to the bottom of her breast bindings; he fingered the edge of the tight material.

He shifted, and his manhood nudged her hip. Instinctive – she assumed; she didn't do it on purpose – her hips bucked into his. His hand gripped her side and slid to her hip, pushing her leggings out of the way. His fingertips met her underwear. She gasped at the suddenness of his fingers there, so close.

He kissed her sweetly, then pushed himself onto his knees. He sat back. Without his presence beside her, she felt exposed.

"Hiccup?" she asked.

Her answer came immediately; Hiccup started to wiggle the leather strap that secured his armor to his chest. It came undone, and he pulled the pieces from his arms, his chest, and set them aside. His fingers, she noticed, while they had felt calm and steady while touching her, while undressing him, they shook.

Without his coating of leather and belts, he looked smaller, but like himself; a part of her suspected he wore it to broaden himself.

Before Hiccup could move, Astrid pushed herself into a sitting position; her nose brushed against Hiccup's chest. Before he could ask, she wiggled her shirt's hem upward, pulled it off her shoulders, over her head, and tossed it aside.

"Astrid," Hiccup breathed. His hands reached for her sides, flattening against her middle; his fingers felt much too big around her.

She reached for the bindings; Hiccup's fingers stilled on her skin.

The prospect of being naked in front of Hiccup filled her with equal parts nervous excitement and desire. As she undid the bindings, she felt Hiccup's eyes like fingertips, edging at the skin she slowly revealed. As the bindings fell away, and her skin was exposed from the top of her head to her waist, her nervous excitement turned more into desire; she saw the same desire in Hiccup's gaze. She felt it in the front of his pants.

As he looked at her, she reached for the hem of his tunic to level the field. He obliged and lifted it over his head. His freckled skin appeared underneath it, and she reached for it. She drew her fingernails along his taut middle. He shivered. She followed the subtle lines of his compact muscles with her fingertips.

His shirt landed with hers. They collided in a fury of bare limbs, teeth and tongues caught in a war. The sensation of his chest pressed against hers sent waves of excitement down her legs and up her spine. He shifted back, one hand supporting himself, the other wandering as much of Astrid as he could.

His firm hand wandered up her torso and as she won the tongue battle, his fingers closed around her breast; she gasped, losing significant ground with his mouth. He touched her, each stroke pulling out sounds she didn't know she could make.

She trailed her fingers down his slim back. He didn't have an ounce of fat on his body, at least not the half she'd seen so far.

Hiccup's hand left her chest and drew a line down her middle to the waist of her leggings.

Permission. He waited on her permission.

Astrid bucked her hips. She didn't want to leave his lips unattended.

His hand slipped underneath the leggings. Then, Hiccup broke apart from her. He sat up, leaving her with a chilled feeling against her front.

Hiccup reached for her boots. When he'd tossed them both aside, he worked her leggings down her hips, her thighs, her calves; his fingertips grazing the skin he revealed. When they too had joined the side of the tent, she laid before him in nothing but her underwear, but she felt nothing of embarrassment or nakedness. Not with Hiccup.

With shaking hands, he untied his pants. A shiver of hot desire and curiosity flooded down, and she found herself watching, waiting. Had he felt the same as she had undone her bindings?

Her breasts, however, were not as… vital to the lovemaking process as his… essentials.

He wiggled out of his pants. He hesitated at his leg, hands shaking. Astrid sat up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her breasts into his back.

"It's fine," Hiccup said, "It's just…"

"I love you, Hiccup, all of you," she said. "Even the parts of you you've lost."

He smiled and reached up to her hand. He laced his fingers with hers, squeezed her hand, then pulled his leg and his pants off. His scarred leg didn't bother her in the slightest. It was part of him, and all of him stirred the feverish need of him.

He paused to look at her. Gods, the way he looked at her melted everything she'd built around herself. She wanted to melt into him, to be a part of him, always and forever.

She touched his chest; he wasn't overly hairy. Fine hair the same dark color that grew on his head grew in a downward angle on his flat stomach.

"This is your last chance to back out," he said.

"Not a chance," she said. She reached for the hem of her underwear. She wanted him, and she would have him.

Hiccup swallowed a gasp, and undid his own. In a clumsily unison, they undressed themselves entirely.

Hiccup reached for her hips; his eyes took her in as she took him in. He pulled her legs to either side of him. Astrid leaned back, granting him all the permission he needed.

He scooted closer. His hands massaged the skin of her hips, the skin on her pelvic bones, and grazed the hair there. His fingers wandered to the inside of her thigh. Concentration played on his face, the same she'd seen when he'd stare at a new island, memorizing it to later add it to his map. It was his explorer's face.

His finger slid to her sex and slowly explored her slickness. She hadn't realize how slick until he touched her. He coax another set of gasps from her throat; she'd only imagined his timid fingers there, but the real thing felt… amazing.

"Hiccup," she gasped as his fingers slipped over her button.

She reached down to grab his fingers. He jumped, thinking he'd done something wrong, but she guided his fingers back to where they'd been. She found the spot, and held onto his wrist as he touched her. He watched with hungry eyes as she whimpered at his touch.

She felt that edge coming closer. Her legs twitched. Her toes curled. Hiccup watched her in utter awe as she tumbled over the edge into the white-hot abyss. She let go of Hiccup and collapsed onto the blankets, panting.

Hiccup poised himself over her, eyes on her face. She widened her legs for him. He leaned down to kiss her, and then he sat back enough to see her. He slid a finger inside of her. He readied himself, manhood kissing her entrance.

He leaned over her and slowly pressed forward. She gripped the blankets.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

She nodded, and said, "Yeah."

She felt herself stretching around him, as he touched parts of her no one else had or would; he pressed slowly inside, a bit at a time, until she took all of him. It hurt, but the sounds that dripped from Hiccup's tongue like warm honey were too much for her to say it to him. The pleasure oozed off his tongue like something she could tangibly touch; she needed more.

Hiccup pulled himself nearly out, pushed himself back inside, and repeated; each thrust came with less caution, until Hiccup had found a steady rhythm. His breath came in a series of pants and gasps. A fine layer of shine appeared on his chest as he worked.

She felt something underneath the pain, a pleasure, but she knew she wouldn't find that pleasurable end from it, not this time, at least.

"Gods," Hiccup gasped. His thrusts increased in speed. "Astrid…"

A final gasp fell from his lips. His arms gave out, and he pulled himself from her quickly. As the cool air touched her, something warm touched her stomach. She glanced up to see Hiccup's seed beading across her middle. Hiccup knelt over her, gasping.

They laid there for a moment or two, taking in what they'd done, and before they called it a night, cleaned themselves up as best they could. The blankets would have to be washed. They didn't bother to dress with the hope that no one would stumble upon them in the night; stranger things had happened.

"Do you think they'll be able to tell a difference?" Astrid asked as the packed up camp the next morning. She felt the soreness between her legs; she hadn't expected that.

"I don't know," Hiccup said, patting Toothless. "I mean, we were able to hide our relationship from them for as long as we did."

"True," she said.

With a quick kiss, they set off to gather the plants they'd set out to find.