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Hiccup's heart raced, beating wildly in his heaving chest, sweat dripping down over his temples. As he stood there, pressed against a tree with a sword to his throat, he knew, unequivocally, that he had lost himself to madness.
Because he should not be this enamored by the man holding the sword to his throat. He shouldn't find himself getting lost in the dark brown depths of his eyes, or in the way his lips were shaped, or the bit of stubble on his jaw past the neat beard from having to shave again. He most certainly should not like the hand that was pressed into his shoulder, and definitely not the large, muscular body that had bested him here in combat on pure strength.
Hiccup's brain should have been screaming at him to fight back and run, find some way to save his life, but instead he felt almost as if his thoughts had vanished. Everything had gone blank.
Yep, I'm insane.
It was because he was head over heels (well, heel) in love with Viggo Grimborn, the man who was about to slit his throat.
And then his opponent in war smirked at him, and he felt weak in the knees.
"Do you surrender?" Viggo asked, smug as ever. Hiccup knew he should have wanted to punch him for his attitude, but he didn't have the urge or desire at all.
But, Hiccup realized he couldn't just let Viggo know that he was attracted to him. He would, without a doubt, use that knowledge to his advantage, toy with him, manipulate him.
So the fight wasn't over. Besides, Hiccup hadn't even been disarmed. His sword just hung at his side, fingers a little too willing to let it go.
Despite how contradictory it was to his feelings, Hiccup's grip on his sword tightened, and he found the strength to push Viggo away and cross the weapon diagonally over his body in a guarded stance. His much beloved and very useful shield was somewhere in the forest. The Dragon Hunter that he'd dispatched before fighting Viggo had nearly broken his arm tugging it off him and tossing it aside.
Once Viggo regained his footing, he laughed, twirled his sword in his hand.
Show off.
Hiccup leveled his sword at him, panting, tired from the fight. Viggo was winded, but definitely not as badly. He was stronger than Hiccup by a long shot. Hiccup was able to move faster though, given his lean build.
And so fast was what he did. He charged at Viggo, feinted a blow to the right, but then slashed to the left at the last moment. Even with the slight diversion in his movement, Viggo's sword came up to meet his, the crossguards of their weapons grinding together.
Viggo smirked at him. "You're pulling your blows."
Hiccup wanted to curse, because Viggo was right. There was nothing deadly about the way he was fighting. Even attempting to inflict harm on the man was upsetting him.
Hiccup tried to act aghast anyway. "I am not!"
Viggo shoved him away with his sword, and Hiccup was going to go at him again, but Viggo did something very unexpected: he dropped his sword and spread his arms, leaving himself completely vulnerable and practically defenseless.
"Wha…?" Hiccup cocked his head at him, and Viggo gave a glittering smile that he wished he could resist.
"Then prove it," he said.
Hiccup's hands trembled as he positioned his sword to run him through. This was his enemy, not his love, not someone he could trust, and most certainly not someone he should have fallen for in the first place! This man was against his very ideals, and yet, as he stood there smiling at him and waiting for him to make his move, Hiccup's chest ached with a yearning he'd never felt before. Viggo was quite literally giving him the chance to kill him…
And he couldn't do it.
Hiccup lowered his sword with a frustrated growl. He wanted to smack himself. What was wrong with him?
Viggo lowered his hands, all smug and victorious.
"W-will you come peacefully?" Hiccup asked. Capturing was better than killing. Leagues better than killing.
Viggo bent to pick up his sword. "Are you asking for my surrender?"
"Yes." Hiccup wished he sounded more sure of himself. He knew the battle was still raging on, could hear fire and explosions and yells. Gods, he hoped his friends were okay, especially Toothless. The two had been separated earlier on in the battle. Hiccup should be focusing on all of that, but Viggo was also his responsibility, in a way. He was the leader of their opposition. Hiccup had to deal with him.
"That's very generous of you." Surprisingly, Viggo sheathed his sword on his back. Hiccup was trying not to show his confusion. He was strange and unpredictable, but that was part of the allure. Hiccup wanted to figure him out. "Might I ask why?"
Hiccup lifted his sword and stepped closer. He'd already let his guard down too much. He couldn't let that continue.
"You're valuable," Hiccup said, taking another step closer. The point of his sword was almost level with Viggo's throat, but it was an empty threat.
They both knew it.
And all the while Viggo looked completely at ease, and kept smiling at him. Now Hiccup was frustrated by the smile, frustrated by this whole game.
But wasn't he playing a game too? In not revealing his feelings? Was that all this was between the two of them? Some life-sized game of Maces and Talons with deception at its core?
Hiccup had never been good at deception.
Or words.
Aggravated beyond belief, Hiccup rushed Viggo, but not to stab him or attack him or attempt to restrain him. No. He lowered his sword and did the one thing that made the least sense in this situation.
He kissed him.
Viggo didn't respond in the way he expected him to. There was hardly any hint of surprise, no pulling back. No, he returned the kiss.
That was when Hiccup knew he was ruined. His sword fell from his grasp, and his hands went to the back of Viggo's head and neck. It was hard to hold onto him anywhere else without accidentally impaling oneself with the spikes on his armor.
Viggo's hands were at his hips. He wasn't controlling the kiss, was letting Hiccup lead. His mouth was soft and perfect against his, his beard scraping his skin in just the way he'd imagined it would.
It was wrong. It was wrong, and perfect, and insane. A kiss with his enemy shouldn't feel this good.
It was so good, in fact, that Hiccup had stopped paying attention to where Viggo's hands were. That was why he was surprised when he suddenly felt the tip of a dagger digging into the leather armor at his back and threatening to pierce it.
Hiccup froze save for pulling his head away. He still held on to Viggo, afraid now that if he moved in some way he'd be stabbed.
He wanted to smack himself. His cheeks heated with shame.
"Ah, so you are attracted to me," Viggo said, voice low as if trying to seduce him. (Not that he had to try very hard.) "I was beginning to suspect that."
Hiccup wanted to jump to verbally defend himself. "I—"
Viggo gave him a quick peck on the lips that nearly had Hiccup melting despite the danger he was in. Was his attraction returned? No, probably not. He had to be manipulation and games. That was all it ever was with Viggo.
Viggo twisted the dagger a little, adding pressure, almost enough to break through the leather. He gave Hiccup a smile that made him regret every choice he'd made that day, and said:
"Your peaceful surrender is much appreciated."