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Vigcup-Viggo laid Hiccup on the bed to nurse his injuries
And let me tell you two more wishes. You can maybe draw them if you want..
1. Viggo is comforting a crying Hiccup at night in the AU where Hiccup is the leader of Dragos army. (They are both shirtless and Hiccup only wears his bandages)
2. evilwriter wrote a shotrfic where Ryker has thrown Hiccup into a icy river after he refused to talk. Viggo reached in time and pulled him out of the water. Now he is warming the nearly frozen to death youth...
And I know I'll want to make more for the Drago's Army AU, so I'll come back for that one (or do something like that, I'm sure)
Hiccup hissed in pain as the needle went into his arm, and the man stitching his wound winced in sympathy. Months ago, Hiccup would have never expected Viggo Grimborn to be stitching up one of his wounds, but here they were.
Viggo had joined the side of the Dragon Riders after the whole debacle with Ryker and the Shellfire. It had been a hard adjustment, and there were those that were still adjusting, but Hiccup didn’t think he was. He felt like he accepted Viggo now.
But the Dragon Hunters had not died out with Ryker. Instead, a man named Krogan had taken over the remaining factions and built his own army, including Dragon Flyers. Hiccup had had a battle with one, and the Flyer had gotten in close enough to slice his arm open with a sword. The wound had been painfully cleaned, and now Viggo was stitching it for him. He had very deft fingers for having hands so big.
“I’m sorry, my dear. More brandy, perhaps?”
Hiccup looked at the bottle sitting beside him. He was in his hut, alone with Viggo after the mission. Usually patching up happened in the clubhouse, but Hiccup had wanted privacy. He didn’t want his Riders to see him yell and flinch at the pain.
He took the bottle, put it to his mouth, drank deeply. He was starting to feel heady from how much he’d consumed, as they’d run out of herbs for pain. He was sending Fishlegs out to find some in the morning. For now, all he had was alcohol.
“You’re really good at this, you know,” Hiccup said, putting down the bottle. He wasn’t looking at what Viggo was doing, but he didn’t need to. This wasn’t the first time that he’d stitched a wound for him.
“My grandfather didn’t want just destruction to be his heir,” Viggo responded. “He made sure of it that I learned the ways of a healer, and a warrior.”
Hiccup nodded. “Wise man.”
“Some thought him a fool,” Viggo said, “making his youngest grandson chief. But he saw the capability in me when all he saw in Ryker was hubris and rage.”
“Well, that was all there was to Ryker, wasn’t there?” Hiccup suddenly felt bad. What if Viggo didn’t want him speaking ill of his deceased older brother?
No sign of anger. He just tied off the stitches and cut the loose end with a knife. He didn’t say anything either though.
Hiccup said nothing as Viggo bandaged the wound, thinking maybe he’d made a mistake. He was grateful to Viggo, of course though. Who wouldn’t be?
“Viggo, I’m sorry.”
“No apologies to be made, my dear Hiccup.” He tied off the bandage. “I didn’t think very highly of my brother.”
Hiccup didn’t know what to say to that, felt like he would mess it up more. He lowered his arm, looked up at Viggo. “Thank you.”
Viggo dipped his head, smiled. Then, he began cleaning up the medical supplies. There was blood on his fingers.
“Let me help.” Hiccup stood, took the medical supplies from him. “You should go wash your hands.”
Viggo just nodded, left Hiccup to clean up the leftover bandages and stitches. Hiccup felt… something, when he was watching Viggo wash his hands in the washbasin. He looked so different from how Hiccup had always pictured him in quiet moments. He’d always figured he would still have drive, passion, discontentment, but now, he seemed content, calm, relaxed.
Hiccup went over to him, put his good hand on his shoulder. Viggo turned to look at him. Something suddenly overcame Hiccup, and he kissed Viggo on the cheek. Viggo didn’t pull back. He just blinked at Hiccup a little in shock.
Hiccup flushed, wondering if the alcohol had influenced him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I-”
He was interrupted by Viggo surging forward and kissing him on the lips. His dripping hands touched his cheeks.
The kiss was short, and Hiccup looked up to meet Viggo’s eyes. There, he saw warmth and understanding, so different from the eyes that used to scare him, the eyes of his enemy.
“The alcohol. I’m sorry-”
“My dear, I was waiting for you to do that,” Viggo interrupted. He stroked his cheek with his thumb, though it was wet; Hiccup didn’t mind.
“Oh. You were?”
He nodded. “I was afraid that if I made the first move, I would scare you off.”
Hiccup took his wrist gently, smiled. “That’s actually… really thoughtful of you, Viggo. Thank you.” That was true. He would have been scared off had Viggo made the first move. It would have reminded him all too much of Dagur and his obsessive affections for him. Of course, he’d known about Viggo’s desire for him, given that he called him “my dear Hiccup” and “my boy” and other things along those lines. As allies and friends, he’d almost tried to forget about it, wondering if Viggo’s desire would leave once he saw the full Hiccup Haddock, not just the one that he encountered in negotiations and battle.
But it had not left Viggo, and Hiccup’s had grown.
Viggo and Hiccup let go of each other, Viggo wiping his hands on a towel. He then passed the towel to Hiccup so he could wipe his face.
“I pray that you still feel this affection in the morning,” Viggo said. “And that it’s not just the alcohol.”
He turned to leave, but Hiccup stopped him with a hand on his shoulder - he only wore the big, spiked pauldrons if he was going into battle.
“Why are you leaving?”
“Because your judgment is clouded at the moment,” Viggo answered, gently slipping Hiccup’s hand off his shoulder. He turned his head to give him a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He left, and Hiccup was alone with the flickering candlelight and his slightly drunken thoughts.
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