Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecapitol2014-08-07 03:17 am
hiccup1puberty0) wrote in thecapitol2014-08-07 03:17 am
Entry tags:
relationship cartography [locked to astrid]
Who| Closed to Astrid
What| Hiccup has a question to ask about living arrangements and overthinks things as usual
Where| Hiccup's Room on 11th floor
When| The first day Astrid is there, several days before the arrests
Warnings/Notes| FTB but still verging on some nsfw stuff oo lala.
While Astrid had been wandering around meeting people and checking the place out, Hiccup had decided to use that time to start cleaning his room. He had a lot of books and drawings and papers already scattered around the place, despite not having been in Panem long, largely because he didn't have his usual work desk or corner of Gobber's stall to keep it all in. So he was cleaning up, making things all nice and tidy. There was a reason for this, a very important reason and that reason was that he knew Astrid tended to live a very utilitarian existence. Everything all neat and orderly, every weapon in its place, shined to a polish. There was no way he could hold himself to living that kind of clutter-less existence, especially without his own work space, but he could compromise, couldn't he? It was all about the compromise. He could makes sure all his junk was in a neat, organized system of junk.
Mind you, he wasn't even sure yet that he'd need to make any compromises because it all depended on how Astrid answered his question of whether or not she wanted to stay in his room with him.
Related to that, it also depended on if he even could muster up the courage to ask the question at all. In all their years of dating, she'd only gotten moderately less intimidating and he wasn't quite sure he could ask the question in a way that made it clear it was about mostly about safety and security, so if something bad happened to the other in the night, at least they'd be there. At least they'd know, and if there was ever some chance at running, some miraculous hope of rescue that came in the middle of the night, they'd either make it together or not at all.
Besides, they could die at any time now, right? If that was a possibility a little extra closeness was something they'd maybe want to try very hard to have, in case there would come a time they wouldn't get to have it anymore. Nothing wrong with some extra cuddling.
But there was still the problem of even if he could ask it the right way, she'd know instantly it was only mostly about that. Another issue was, uh, the possibility of them being...conveniently located near one another. For other reasons. It wasn't exactly as if they'd never enjoyed being...conveniently located near each other. It had happened with relative frequency back home, especially anytime his dad went off to visit chiefs on other islands. His bedroom window was, apparently, very easy to climb to, and riotous dragon snickering aside, Toothless had turned out to be a very good wingman (pun intended) and always been willing to relocate downstairs to sleep. But that was just it: they'd been several houses and a one storey climb apart. If Astrid still wanted the distance it would've been an understandable thing, and he was hoping that she would understand that he understood it was an understandable thing.
So he really just needed to make sure that little motive - that sub-motive, really - was clearly communicated as not the main priority and not some kind of expectation. Just a possible perk if she did want to stay there and wanted the convenience as well.
It was so awkward, though.
Remember back when you thought this stuff would someday stop being awkward? Remember that, self? thought Hiccup. There was actually a time that you thought relationship stuff would get less awkward. Less awkward.
Well, if he was honest with himself, it had a little bit, but it was still something that they were both perpetually navigating. There was no map to a relationship, no charted course. Then again, when you got down to it, all of the best journeys were something that needed a little navigation, so maybe that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
"Come on, easy question," he said, trying to coach himself. Still holding a book in one hand and particularly ugly jacket in the other, he mimed that was he talking to his girlfriend, replete with his usual arm-flailing as he spoke.
"So, Astrid, now that you're here with me in Pointless Death Paradise, a place where we have to actually sometimes sleep and can't even have weapons under our pillows, I was wondering if you wanted to sleep here. In my room. With me, not - not some kind of room switch. We would both be sleeping here." Awkward. There it was. He tried to rally. "That way we can spend some quiet time with each other, maybe get a little cuddling in, we'll know if someone tries to murder the other in their sleep, and on the off chance we can get in the mood despite every single thing around us being depressing and horrible, then we don't have to go to a different floor in a magic box that might fall one of the times we try to use it for all we know, since the people that brought us here would probably find our horrible deaths by way of falling box funny."
He nodded to himself slightly. That was a strong argument, right?
"We don't have to treat it as some big thing, like we're living together even though we'd be...living together - I mean, unless you want to. That would be fine if it was a big thing if you wanted it to be, but I don't expect it to be a big thing. But we could treat it as a big thing if you wanted it to -" He threw up his hands. "There I go. Messing it up."
Hiccup tossed the jacket into his open closest and the book on top of his pile of book and drawings and flopped onto his bed on his back.
"Overthinking it. You're overthinking it. You always overthink it and then you look stupid. Luckily for you, if looking stupid was something that put her off she'd have dumped you probably during that thing with Snotlout and the barrel of fish heads when you were seventeen. But even if you don't have to worry about putting her off, you don't actually have to look stupid. You are so not awkward about some things, like the flirting, so just get it together."
He'd left his bedroom door open as he went about his business, because he'd been periodically taking some things out to the trash in the district kitchen while cleaning up, and because he'd been talking to himself he hadn't noticed Astrid's approach.
He had no idea she'd been close enough to overhear some of his rambling, and therefore no idea how much of it she'd heard, but he was about to find out.
What| Hiccup has a question to ask about living arrangements and overthinks things as usual
Where| Hiccup's Room on 11th floor
When| The first day Astrid is there, several days before the arrests
Warnings/Notes| FTB but still verging on some nsfw stuff oo lala.
While Astrid had been wandering around meeting people and checking the place out, Hiccup had decided to use that time to start cleaning his room. He had a lot of books and drawings and papers already scattered around the place, despite not having been in Panem long, largely because he didn't have his usual work desk or corner of Gobber's stall to keep it all in. So he was cleaning up, making things all nice and tidy. There was a reason for this, a very important reason and that reason was that he knew Astrid tended to live a very utilitarian existence. Everything all neat and orderly, every weapon in its place, shined to a polish. There was no way he could hold himself to living that kind of clutter-less existence, especially without his own work space, but he could compromise, couldn't he? It was all about the compromise. He could makes sure all his junk was in a neat, organized system of junk.
Mind you, he wasn't even sure yet that he'd need to make any compromises because it all depended on how Astrid answered his question of whether or not she wanted to stay in his room with him.
Related to that, it also depended on if he even could muster up the courage to ask the question at all. In all their years of dating, she'd only gotten moderately less intimidating and he wasn't quite sure he could ask the question in a way that made it clear it was about mostly about safety and security, so if something bad happened to the other in the night, at least they'd be there. At least they'd know, and if there was ever some chance at running, some miraculous hope of rescue that came in the middle of the night, they'd either make it together or not at all.
Besides, they could die at any time now, right? If that was a possibility a little extra closeness was something they'd maybe want to try very hard to have, in case there would come a time they wouldn't get to have it anymore. Nothing wrong with some extra cuddling.
But there was still the problem of even if he could ask it the right way, she'd know instantly it was only mostly about that. Another issue was, uh, the possibility of them being...conveniently located near one another. For other reasons. It wasn't exactly as if they'd never enjoyed being...conveniently located near each other. It had happened with relative frequency back home, especially anytime his dad went off to visit chiefs on other islands. His bedroom window was, apparently, very easy to climb to, and riotous dragon snickering aside, Toothless had turned out to be a very good wingman (pun intended) and always been willing to relocate downstairs to sleep. But that was just it: they'd been several houses and a one storey climb apart. If Astrid still wanted the distance it would've been an understandable thing, and he was hoping that she would understand that he understood it was an understandable thing.
So he really just needed to make sure that little motive - that sub-motive, really - was clearly communicated as not the main priority and not some kind of expectation. Just a possible perk if she did want to stay there and wanted the convenience as well.
It was so awkward, though.
Remember back when you thought this stuff would someday stop being awkward? Remember that, self? thought Hiccup. There was actually a time that you thought relationship stuff would get less awkward. Less awkward.
Well, if he was honest with himself, it had a little bit, but it was still something that they were both perpetually navigating. There was no map to a relationship, no charted course. Then again, when you got down to it, all of the best journeys were something that needed a little navigation, so maybe that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
"Come on, easy question," he said, trying to coach himself. Still holding a book in one hand and particularly ugly jacket in the other, he mimed that was he talking to his girlfriend, replete with his usual arm-flailing as he spoke.
"So, Astrid, now that you're here with me in Pointless Death Paradise, a place where we have to actually sometimes sleep and can't even have weapons under our pillows, I was wondering if you wanted to sleep here. In my room. With me, not - not some kind of room switch. We would both be sleeping here." Awkward. There it was. He tried to rally. "That way we can spend some quiet time with each other, maybe get a little cuddling in, we'll know if someone tries to murder the other in their sleep, and on the off chance we can get in the mood despite every single thing around us being depressing and horrible, then we don't have to go to a different floor in a magic box that might fall one of the times we try to use it for all we know, since the people that brought us here would probably find our horrible deaths by way of falling box funny."
He nodded to himself slightly. That was a strong argument, right?
"We don't have to treat it as some big thing, like we're living together even though we'd be...living together - I mean, unless you want to. That would be fine if it was a big thing if you wanted it to be, but I don't expect it to be a big thing. But we could treat it as a big thing if you wanted it to -" He threw up his hands. "There I go. Messing it up."
Hiccup tossed the jacket into his open closest and the book on top of his pile of book and drawings and flopped onto his bed on his back.
"Overthinking it. You're overthinking it. You always overthink it and then you look stupid. Luckily for you, if looking stupid was something that put her off she'd have dumped you probably during that thing with Snotlout and the barrel of fish heads when you were seventeen. But even if you don't have to worry about putting her off, you don't actually have to look stupid. You are so not awkward about some things, like the flirting, so just get it together."
He'd left his bedroom door open as he went about his business, because he'd been periodically taking some things out to the trash in the district kitchen while cleaning up, and because he'd been talking to himself he hadn't noticed Astrid's approach.
He had no idea she'd been close enough to overhear some of his rambling, and therefore no idea how much of it she'd heard, but he was about to find out.
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Everything she encountered had still been every bit surprising, but she slowly began to find it slightly easier to talk to the others that had ended up there by force just as she had (she even met the Thor, talk about a surprise meeting), learning that most people were experiencing the same rut as she was, if not a worst one. She wouldn't exactly say she was making friends, not yet anyway, but at least acquaintances which would probably eventually prove helpful in a place like this.
At least she found comfort in the training room, ironically, mainly because she at least had an axe there to help her feel a little at home. Not that she was all too excited that she'd possibly have to make use of it here--hopefully not on any of the few kind people she'd been able to meet. The circumstances of why she, why everyone was here still bothered her, but it was only the first day. She would just have to try and and ease into the situation as best as she could.
Hours exploring led to the approaching end of the day in which she was completely exhausted from the constant activity in this new world. She made use of the showers, after having discovered the secrets of its buttons earlier with her friends, and was more than ready to finally just call it a day after everything she'd been through in practically less than twelve hours.
But more than sleep, she wanted to see Hiccup again.
She had been haunted with the sight of him dying that morning. Even upon learning that people would be revived, it didn't change what she saw, knowing he still had to suffer death like that once already. And to find out it was meant to happen again at some point, she could feel the disgust in her chest, an image she wished to distort.
Astrid finds her way up to his floor easier this time--stupid elevators--wandering into the district 11 suites, hair already braided and dressed in a dark gray wool sweater and black leggings. Far under dressed by Capitol standards, but she's learned the stylists didn't harass as much at night at least. Having been there earlier, she knows which room is his, though she's a bit surprised when she overhears him speaking, at first thinking he might possibly have company, but finds that he's very much by himself when she takes a peek inside.
She wants to burst into laughter when she realizes he's trying to talk to her (or at least she hopes he is, because if he was talking about "getting in the mood" with some other tribute, she might find a reason to use an axe a little earlier than the arena). Their relationship had gotten a bit less awkward with time, but Hiccup was always very much a bit all over the place with things like this, not she minded so much, because that's just how they always were. More so than anything, it brought about a sense of peace and relief, knowing that even under the circumstances, they still had what they always had.
She lets him carry on without interrupting, amused by his practice at speech, trying to suppress a grin as she listens to him completely blunder it. When he drops on the bed, seemingly giving up on getting his words right, she decides to wander in at that point, crossing her arms as she leans against the wall, an obvious smirk plastered on her face.
"Well, death by way of falling box is definitely not the way I'd imagine to go. Though I suppose it's still a bit like going out with a bang, huh?"
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His face flushed bright red.
"S'cuse me for a minute."
Scooting up the bed on his back, scoot scoot scoot scoot, he grabbed the pillow and put it on his face.
"There we go," he said, voice muffled by pillow. "So how much of that did you hear?"
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"Not much at all. Just a tiny bit," she lies, rather obviously, listing things off with her fingers. "Just about you overthinking something. And living together? And it not being a big thing. And making sure we don't get murdered. And cuddling. And, hmm, what else?" She taps her chin, pretending to be in deep thought. "Right, and something about getting in the mood?"
She's practically grinning with amusement even with the bit of redness in her cheeks. But getting Hiccup flustered was definitely worth it all.
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"So I'll just go ahead and die now," he said lightly, voice even more muffled. "Don't mind me."
You thought it'd get less awkward once. Haha, less awkward. So how's that working out for you, self?
How was it he always found a way to make things extra difficult?
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Tiptoeing closer to the bed, she puts her hands on the end of it to lean over, raising an eyebrow at the Hiccup-shaped mold under the sheets.
"Well, before you go dying, didn't you have a question to ask me?"
She might be kind of horrible sometimes. But with the years, she couldn't help it. He was the only one she could do this with, and she got such a kick out of it.
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You are a Viking. A Viking. You have, at this point, fought two dragons that were larger than buildings. It's a single question. One question, and unlike the many dragons you've face down, she's not going to bite your head off just for asking it.
He drew in a deep breath, let it back out, pulled the pillow and blanket off his head. Peeking one eye open, he finally sat up, drawing up his right leg and leaning his cheek on it as he peered over at her.
"What I wanted to know was if you maybe possibly wanted to sleep in here with me. They don't seem to make people go back to their district suites if they wanna stay with someone else."
He scratched his chin.
"We could die at any time, right? It'd be safer, since we'd be right near each other, we'd have alone time, in case...that was all the time we had." Perish the thought, but it was true. "And it would lend itself to us being already near each other if we wanted to get up to certain things we have, in the past, actually climbed up through windows to do. Little more convenient, I'd think."
He kept scratching his chin and looked away.
"So, uh, would you maybe be interested? In that?" He added hurriedly, "It doesn't have to be a big deal but I knew it might be something that could be seen as a big deal so I was just trying to think up the right way to ask about it."
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When he's done, she takes a moment to pause, simply gazing at him in thought before she shifts around the bed, climbing up on it from the side to kneel in front of him.
"I woke up today and I thought I was completely alone. Even now, this place is so foreign and dangerous, and ... I still don't know much about it, other than that it almost took you away. I really thought it did take you away." She takes a breath, not really wanting to bring the thoughts back up again, but from a memory still vivid in her mind from that morning, it was hard to push it away.
A hand rises to lean over to grace against his, fingers lightly brushing against knuckles. "I don't want to be away from you anymore."
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Sometimes she teased him, and that was always fun, but sometimes she'd drop into sincerity and tenderness, and it wasn't special because it was out of character. It was special because it was part of her and just something she didn't let many others see.
She let him see it.
"You won't regret it," he said, taking her hand in his own. "Foot rubs, Astrid. You have so many foot rubs in your future."
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Her hand raises to play with a small patch of hair that no longer held the small specially braided hair that she often styled for him, always amused by the endearing visual and simply liked it as her own personal mark to signify that, well, his heart was hers to take.
"I need to put those back. Your hair's been crying without them, I could tell."
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Really, he had been waking up to a soaked pillow sometimes, though the tears weren't coming from his sad, braid-bereft hair. Usually it was from his actual tears and the cold sweats, but he didn't tell her that. The nightmares about dying didn't come often enough to warrant it and had been abating since the last arena.
He scooted closer and sat there tolerantly so Astrid could redo them if she wanted.
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However, her smile comes up saddened, mainly because she knows she hasn't been around. Though it's of no fault of either of them, she hasn't strayed from his side for years, a self promise that she'd be there to support him through just about anything. And yet there's this small patch of time where he'd gone through so much that she was so unaware of, in which she hadn't been there to help him through it.
Ruffnut had been there, of course. She's sure that having one another must have guided them through plenty of circumstances. But not having witnessed the things they have, not knowing the pain they've already had to feel, she doesn't understand things the way they do right now, not nearly enough to be able to comfort them.
Even so, she shifts on the bed to move slightly behind Hiccup, knees apart to shuffle in close and get a good angle. Taking a bit of the hair in her hand, she holds it out of the way for the moment to press a soft lingering but chaste kiss against his neck in placement of the words she wasn't quite sure how to say. Soft but expressive, pulling up her other hand to caresses lightly against the kissed skin with a thumb.
She pulls away so that she can start working at the hair, slowly twisting strands to form the small braids she had developed a subconscious habit in giving him. "See? You're looking better already."
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It was criminally unfair how easily she could do that to him, and at the same time, the most wonderful thing in the world.
Hiccup looked almost like a cat as he sat there, his half-lidded eyes betraying how incredibly soothing he found it to have her playing with his hair. How good it felt was why he even tolerated her always braiding his hair in the first place. It was her odd little way of making her mark on him and having an excuse to touch him and that outweighed any worries he had that it looked a little silly.
"Yep, you're going to be my new stylist. Just think about it, what could be healthier for a relationship than an arrangement that depends on absolute trust? You would have the power to decide whether or not I go out into the world in lime green leggings." He shrugged a shoulder since he couldn't shake his head without wrenching his hair. "It's too much power for one person to have, but if any person has it, I'd rather it be you than some stranger. Then I can at least be sure there aren't any outfits in my future that are covered in purple spots."
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"I don't know about that. Over the course of a day, I've grown quite fine of vibrant polka dots. I may want to try a little experimentation on you," she jokes mostly, laughing as she speaks, letting the final knots in the braids close them off as she removes her hands.
With a sigh, she lets her cheek rest against his shoulder, fingers finding their way along the length of his arms to lazily caress the skin, simply craving for light touches and minor contact, just more reminders that he was alive.
Dazed in her thoughts, she murmurs softly into his shoulder. "I won't let you die again."
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He moved in to nuzzle his cheek against hers.
"I think we're gonna have to go at this thinking about the other things we can protect in each other."
The sick people in charge of this place wanted them all to feel less than human, to feel like nothing. They wanted them to feel empty and dead inside.
Love had a way of making someone feel the opposite of that, making them feel like everything, like every little speck of who they were, good or bad, had its own place in the universes. It didn't even have to be romantic love. Even with Ruffnut, they were a tribe, and in a tribe every person was valuable and cared for.
That was what needed to be protected, the feeling that they mattered, that they didn't deserve suffering.
"I am never going to let them make you feel like you don't matter and I know you'll do the same for me. And we both can do the same for Ruff and for anyone else we come to care about here, anyone else that deserves it."
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She nods against his cheek as her arms wrap around to his back to grasp tight at his shirt, the need for closeness heightened tonight, to just be held like this.
"We'll do everything we can to protect them. I'm here now to stand by you and make sure of that."
Astrid has no idea what she's in for. She only knows what she saw on the moving paintings where her friends died and what people have told her repeatedly throughout the day. All of it still equaling to not enough to know what this place could do. But even so, she can sense the determination in Hiccup's tone, telling her that the situation was more drastic than she realized.
Leaning back to gaze back at his face, she pauses for a moment as she considers his words. "I ... I don't know what you've seen. I don't know what I'll be seeing soon enough. But if it ever gets really bad, I'll still be there, okay? I won't ever abandon you. Even if I die, or ... we get separated again somehow, I'll come back to you. So just never forget that."
She usually never resorts to words, but circumstances were different, and it was important to make sure the message came across this time.
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Especially since a gaping chasm shaped like his father had opened up only just recently.
Normally, Astrid wasn't big on words. He was used to her more often showing him how she felt in kisses and touches and little gestures. In silly things like her tapping the button to spring his back fin every time she had the chance and giggling herself silly. Hearing her just...say it made him feel like he was overflowing out of himself, as if she'd dropped something weighty and significant in a pool inside him so that everything started pouring over the edges.
That meant, for once, he didn't have the words when he was the one that usually did. All he could do was look at her with a gaze that was completely lovesick. The best he could do was find the simplest words he could say.
"I love you," he said softly, the proclamation coming out in a rush, as if the words were the kind of words that would have fallen out of him with a light shake. "I try not to say that too much so it doesn't lose its meaning but sometimes I wonder if it can lose its meaning if I'm gonna mean it just as much every time I say it."
His entire body trembled as they held one another, as if from restraint, and he just kept looking at her as if he couldn't get enough of doing it.
The sadness that tempered the love in his gaze faded a bit to the amusement that was usually there and a bit of humor came back into his voice as he said, "Also, I so want to kiss you right now. Like I just really wanna lay one on you. Normally, I'd just do it but we're talking the kind of kiss you should definitely ask someone's permission for first. Any chance I can get away with that in the next few seconds?"
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But when she hears the words I love you, her heart flutters as if she's fourteen again, and the usually tough Viking girl drops all her defensive walls in an instant--as if he hadn't long since broken enough of them down already.
Even so, she's laughing when he asks her for permission, something they've never requested since spontaneity was usually their top method in handling things, especially their affections. But it doesn't matter now because she feels like she's flying and anything he says is keeping her smiling, despite all that they had just discussed.
She nods, leaning her forehead in against his. "Permission granted. You can kiss me all you want."
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With that, he pressed his lips against hers and made it clear exactly why he'd asked permission. The kiss was filled with affection, yes, but it was also a small-scale invasion.
After the kind of kiss that should have realistically caused their faces to melt like Nazis in a Stephen Spielberg movie, he started pressing kisses to her cheeks, to her neck, to the line of her jaw, occasionally pulling back to smile a goofy smile and look her in the eyes to see how she was reacting to it.
Because he was the kind of person that needed validation.no subject
So when he's kissing at her jaw and sneaking those dorky smiles he's very much known for, she can't help but enter into small fits of giggles, simply enjoying his very presence with her. If he needs validation, she offers it in the form of tugging up hard at his shirt, reeling him in continuously against her lips.
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"Okay, so the tugging - is that you needing a firm handhold or is that you wanting my shirt out of the way? Because it's definitely something I'd be willing to part with, especially here in this place where there isn't snow in summer." He tugged on it himself. "Really, when you think about, shirts are more of an accessory now, right? Since it's so warm here. So if you're not finding it to your liking, I can easily take it off. Open offer."
He went on, making his offer even more generous, "You know what, I'll even extend that offer to any other article of clothing I'm wearing, too. We decided that you're my stylist now, so if you say any of my clothes have to go, then they gotta go. I'll just have to toss 'em under the bed so they're not insulting your eyes by their mere existence anymore."
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"But you're absolutely right. My eyes are practically burning just from seeing you in these dreadful clothes. The shirt has to go. Those pants are pretty appalling too. Hmm. I'd say just about everything is an eyesore."
She giggles soon enough afterwards, sneaking in a teasing quick kiss on him, lingering close. "Though I suppose it wouldn't be fair to punish just you alone. So I guess we can make it even and, well, anything you happen to take off, I can perhaps get rid of too."
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As he leaned his false leg against the bedside table, he said, "This is so much easier without all the spikes and buckles. Why do I have so many buckles on my clothes back home? I need to figure out a redesign."
He added casually, "Oh, by the way - sweaty stump sock!"
He fell back on the bed and prodded her arm with his stump, which was clothed with one of the only things he was still wearing other than his boxer briefs, a long sock to prevent it from rubbing in his prosthetic. Back home, he had one made of linen.
Just like it always was back home, it was a little on the sweaty side.
Why he sometimes did such a gross-out thing some of the times they were about to sleep together was a mystery, but it was probably because of the danger involved. It made things more exciting.
And really, it was the only way he could properly get back at her for all the times she poked the mechanism for his suit's backfin.
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"Hiccup!" He earns a bit pout from her face, as she wipes down the length of her arm following the brief attack. She also won't hesitate to throw her shirt right at him, since she'll at least be nice enough not to throw a punch at him for the moment.
"Right, because you definitely know just how to keep me in the mood. You've got me practically swooning into your arms and begging for you to take me right about now." Sarcasm had definitely been something that Astrid had picked up even more so from Hiccup over the course of time that they'd been dating. Something he should probably regret.
But after a roll of her eyes, her soft chuckles return as a hand reaches up to her hair, twisting it to underdo her braid, something she refrained from walking along in public without. But long, loose blond waves that fall down in front of her are for Hiccup's eyes alone, along with a warming smile that rises up as she gestures with a finger for him to come close again.
"You're ridiculous," she says with a laugh, but her eyes show off sincerity as she continues. "But I love you all the more for it."
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Would she just laugh? Would she kick him out of the bed to the floor? Would she get angry but express it by aggressively tackling him to the bed? He never knew and that made it fun. He poked her with his stump again, now sockless. It was something he often did during their times of intimacy as if reassuring to himself that it was okay, that she wasn't grossed out, that it was no different than poking her with his foot.
"I never really know how you're going to react."
He finally pulled her shirt off of his head so that he could get a clear look at her and for a little, he just beamed, smiling almost bashfully, as if reflecting on the fact that this was his life now. That even in a horrible place like this, there were things their new enemy couldn't take away from them.
Love and the myriad ways they showed it to each other were things the Capitol couldn't touch. It was something they would have even if all they could do was stare wistfully at each other from across a room. It was something they would have if they couldn't even see each other at all.
And it wasn't like there weren't at least a few upsides to this place. While trying to bring the place down around the ears of the people responsible for all this, they could enjoy those upsides for now.
"You know," he said, scratching the back of his head, his voice taking on a lightly cajoling 'this might be a good idea but you tell me' sort of tone. "One of the escorts was saying that they give everyone something when they first show up that makes it so you don't have babies while you're here. Which means we could maybe get up to doing that one thing we usually don't do for once."
Grinning one of those sardonic grins of his, as he realized how odd that statement was, and laughing slightly because of it, he added, "Why she opened the conversation with that, of all things, I honestly don't know, it was pretty weird, actually. But I can see how that might be some kind of, I don't know, frequently asked question of some kind."
Now was a good time for Astrid to tackle him because he was just going to keep admiring the view and talking too much if she didn't. The latter was, after all, one of his favorite things to do. Tackling him could easily remind him of one of his other favorite things to do.
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Her concerns are elsewhere though, and whether the information he provides was a situation or not, in this moment, she just wants to be with Hiccup, to affirm that they still had each other, and that this place wouldn't do a thing to change that.
So as he continues to speak, rambling on now about who knows what at this point, she'll do what works best on him and indeed tackle him down against the mattress, rushing forward to grab at his arms, pushing him backwards, allowing her to kneel on either side of his hips and hover over him.
"Gods, Hiccup. Just ... shut up, okay?" It's said straight forward, but it's at least softened with the smile she gives, a small expression of the intensity of her love for him, strong enough to sustain dealing with any excess amount of talking he may provide. But it's probably even more highly expressed in the hard kiss she plants against his lips, a representation of the connection that the Capitol had no hope of ever breaking.
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If his mouth hadn't been otherwise occupied, that would would have been an "Okay."
It was occupied, though, and it looked as if it was going to be that way for the near future.