A/N: Three drabbles, all revolving around alcohol. Enjoy.


Title: Quiet Me

Rating: K+

Characters: Astrid, Hiccup


Astrid chewed her lip and looked around with wide, dilated eyes. Shadows moved in every corner of her vision as Vikings travelled home for the night. No one looked their way. They were safe out of the brazier light.

For now.

"Alright," she said in a breathy pep talk. "Okay. Just… I just have to get you home, Hiccup, and in bed, and I'll see you in the morning. Yeah?"

Stoick should be asleep by now. She counted on it.

"Okay, Hiccup?" she asked again when she got no reply.

Astrid turned and found Hiccup not where she left him, but headed towards the weapons' storage barn.

"Hey," Hiccup called loudly, directionless. "Hey! Toother?"

Astrid hissed and jumped at him.

"Hiccup no!" She grabbed his vest and spun him back around towards his home. "Shhh!"

Hiccup stumbled into her. "I—!"

She tried to cover his mouth.

"Shhhh!"

"I need Tooth," he demanded, muffled. Astrid's palm was wet in seconds. She jerked her hand away and wiped it on her shirt.

"Hiccup, you need to shut up," she whispered harshly. If anyone saw them…

They made a show of heading home to their parents before they met back up with some of the other teens for a little party—one that got out of hand quickly. Half of the caskets were bought off Johan earlier that week and contained foreign liquids. Hiccup, of course, had to at least try everything.

Said young man now waved enthusiastically at an overturned wheelbarrow.

"Toothless!"

Astrid grabbed his arm and yanked it down.

"Shush! Toothless is asleep in your room!"

"Nnno… he's right…" Hiccup tried to approach the barrow. Astrid held onto him.

"Yes. Hiccup—Hiccup, look at me—" She grabbed his face with one hand, cheeks pinched together, and forced him to face her. "Toothless is in your room. "

His eyes were wide and unfocused with irises like huge, black circles. They looked right through her.

"Ah ooo shoore?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she said calmly. At least he stopped fighting her. "Now let's go to him. He's waiting for you."

"In my room," he said, squinting at his shoes.

"In your room," she confirmed, "where we're going now. So you can sleep."

"Sleep?"

"Yeah, come on. Start walking."

She put an arm around his waist, knowing better than to let him walk on his own again, and started ushering him up the hill.

"Make sure you sleep on your side," Astrid told him. Hel only knows why she bothered since, if the pattern of the night continued, he wouldn't even remember.

Hiccup's head was bobbing and his eyes were mostly closed, but he responded in garbled nonsense.

"Mmm… so you can be big spoon?"

"So you don't choke on your own vomit."

His feet kept crossing over the other, stumbling more on his own limbs than anything in their path. The bulk of his weight fell to Astrid.

"Oh—gods, what did you drink?" she moaned and readjusted him with a grunt.

"How are you even talking to me?" Hiccup said to the sky. "You shpeak… so well with your eyes…" He swayed and began to teeter away from her.

"Odin's missing eye," Astrid swore. "Get over here!"

She yanked him back to her side—and then she was holding him, because he wasn't standing any more.

"Hiccup!"

"Night," he said, and he slid through her arms onto the ground.

Astrid took a moment to catch her breath as she stared down at the chief's spread-eagle son. Then she kicked him.

"Get up."

He hardly reacted, eyes remaining closed.

"I am up," he mumbled sleepily.

"Oh no you don't!" Astrid snatched his arm and tried to haul him off the ground. She only managed to get him into a seated position.

Damn it, he was only ninety pounds last year!

"Get up," Astrid said again. She wouldn't repeat herself a third time. She was tired, thirsty, and had her own share of ale. Not, thank the gods, whatever he drank.

"You come down," Hiccup giggled. He started pulling her back. Astrid quickly twisted her wrist from his grip and Hiccup flung back onto the grass with a grunt.

"No, we need to go," she said.

"We need to sleep," he returned in that slow, heavy voice he'd been using since they left the Thorston's shed.

"Hiccup, I will leave you here," Astrid threatened. "Your dad is going to find you in the road tomorrow morning, and you'll have to answer for it."

Astrid could just make out his smile in the cloud-filtered moonlight.

"Mmmaybe…" Hiccup grinned, "maybe he'll find us here."

She threw her arms in the air. She was done.

"Good night, Hiccup."

"G'd night."

Astrid made it the rest of the way down the hill before she heard him.

"Toothless… Toothless come here… Toooothless… I need to cuddle… light this… light this so I can cuddle…"

She tilted her head skyward.

"Odin help me."


Hiccup awoke the next morning on the dewy grass halfway up the hill to his home. He had screaming headache, parched throat, nausea that kept him on the ground, and a blanket overtop his body.


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Title: Hangover

Rating: T/M

Characters: Astrid, Hiccup


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Astrid hated everything. The dragons crooning outside were too loud, the light streaming from the roof window too bright, the covers too heavy, her skin too sticky.

She desperately wanted to get out of bed and get some water—her mouth tasted of cotton even without her face stuffed into a pillow—but her stomach lurched at any sort of elevation.

"Umghghgh…"

The body next to her chuckled, which told Astrid two things: Hiccup was awake, and he was an utter bastard.

Astrid half heartedly slapped a hand back and whacked him on the thigh a couple of times. He shifted closer to her and buried his face in her hair.

"I told you not to have that last drink," he said, grinning into the thick of her mane.

Astrid would have properly hit him if she were feeling up to it. She vaguely recalled Hiccup warning her against another cup of the heady liquid, but she had been too set on drinking at least one more than he did. How was she to know the drink Hiccup bought off of Trader Johan would be so potent? What more, how was she to know Hiccup had a knack for tolerance and pacing she could only dream of? He had never been much of a social drinker so she assumed, as had many of their peers, that he couldn't handle his drink at all…

She wished she could feel more annoyed with Hiccup—there was that tone of smugness Snotlout often companied about—but his hand rubbing up and down her bare back felt too good for her to really dissuade his touch.

"Just… don't talk," she rasped and pushed her face back into the pillow.

The breeze from the window cooled her overheated skin. She kicked the furs further down her body, uncaring of her nude state. No one would come knocking if they knew what was good for them.

Hiccup pulled her hair back and kissed the base of her neck. Astrid nearly told him not to touch her but she was torn between feeling gross and enjoying his touch.

Because she did little more than give a grunt of half-hearted protest, Hiccup continued his attentions. He planted another kiss at her spine, and another at her shoulder; his finger tips danced the length of her torso, his nails grazed the curve of her breast.

Astrid moaned. Hiccup chuckled again.

"Want some water?"

She did, desperately. She also didn't want Hiccup to stop. She wanted a sober reminder of the night before, because all she could dredge up were insights and flashes and too few memories of pleasure. She remembered pulling the draw of Hiccup's pants, tripping on the uneven step to their loft, his laughter—soothing—and his hands at her hips, guiding her movements…

Astrid reached a hand back and tangled her fingers in Hiccup's hair.

"Just have Toothless get it."

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Title: Drunk Dragons

Rating: T

Characters: Astrid, Hiccup, Toothless, Stormfly, Twins


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"What. Happened."

Astrid turned. Arms crossed, face steely.

"I was about to ask you that," she returned.

Hiccup stepped into the storage barn, his eyes roving over the supine forms of their dragons.

He scoffed, delayed. "Me? I didn't leave the latch open!"

"Well, neither did I!" Astrid said, following his gaze, back to Stormfly and Toothless. Both comatose, tongues lolling. Three barrels of mead were splintered and opened like cracked eggs; the dregs of drink and dragon saliva pooled in their husks.

Hiccup had to wince at the sight. He had never seen the creatures sleep like this. The stomach was a dragon's soft-spot; they'd never expose themselves in such a way unless they were around people they trusted.

They never slept with their stomachs up either.

He whirled on Astrid.

"I was in the forge all day, if you remember."

"I do, actually," she said coolly. Her face told him she already had a bone to pick with him outside of the dragon situation. "And I was training."

"But you went to the mead hall last night," he pointed out.

"Where I stayed and then went home."

Hiccup opened his mouth again when a grating, obnoxious voice overrode his rejoinder.

"Aw, man, you two should have seen these guys go at it!"

Tuffnut Thorston stood in the doorway of the shack. Slouched, grinning, his sister's head bobbing up over his shoulder.

"I told you Zipplebacks could handle their ale better than Nadders," Ruffnut uttered. She gave her brother a rough push to the back of his shoulder as she stepped in beside him.

Tuffnut shoved her back. "Then we should have given them all ale and not separate drinks! Oh!" He turned back to the couple. "Belch is fine, by the way. Not even hungover.

"Barf is finer," Ruffnut added.

"What?" Hiccup said in a low, dangerous voice neither twin had ever heard from him.

"You did this?" Astrid hissed at the same time, her finger jabbed at their poor, sick dragons.

Tuffnut snickered. "Oh man, it was great. Toothless is totally a chugger, Hiccup."

"And Stormfly was prissy at first," Ruffnut cackled. "Totally predictable, but she got a taste for it."

"Yeah," her brother sighed, wiping a tear form his eye. "Some dragons just can't hold their mead."

In a smooth motion, Astrid flipped her axe and thrust it, flat-headed, into Hiccup's chest. He grunted as his hands reflexively came up to take the weapon.

"Hold my axe for me," she said. She stalked towards the twins, the wraps of her hands creaking as her fists clenched.

"Kick their ass, baby," Hiccup wheezed. "I got your axe."