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Hiccup has never liked storms.
Maybe it’s the noise, maybe it’s the general feeling of danger– maybe it’s the fact that he’s been struck by lightning about five times in his life, but he just hates them.
So when one starts up, he figuratively barricades himself in his hut and doesn’t let anybody in. Curls up in his bed, his hands over his ears, as the thunder crashes and the lightning illuminates his bedroom every so often.
Someone knocks on his door, and Hiccup chooses to ignore it. Toothless croons at him, and he buries his head in his blankets. “Shut up,” he mumbles, and Astrid’s voice filters in. “Hey, can I come in?”
Hiccup shakes his head before realising she can’t see him, and says quietly, “… Sure.”
She enters, and Hiccup feels the vibrations as she climbs the stairs. He clenches the blankets in his fists as the thunder booms again, how fucking long has it been?
Astrid sits down next to him. “This storm’s… pretty bad, huh?” He doesn’t answer verbally, instead nodding.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, and Hiccup can hear the pity in her voice, and it makes him fucking sick. “Don’t– don’t treat me like that. I’m… an adult, Astrid.” He sure doesn’t fucking feel like one– hiding under the covers like he did when he was five years old and afraid of trolls.
As if reading his mind, Astrid places a comforting hand on his forearm. “I know, babe. Listen– it’ll be over soon, Fishlegs said it’s clearing up now.”
“That’s… good. I– I’m so scared, Ast,” he admits, and she lies down next to him. “What exactly are you afraid of?”
Hiccup pulls the covers off his head, staring into her eyes. “Let’s be honest, none of us exactly have a great relationship with… with lightning. It just– it just makes me anxious, I guess.”
Astrid makes a face. “I get it. I’m sorry, babe.” She wraps her arms around him, and he practically melts into the embrace.
The storm clears.
She still holds him.