Chapter Text
You're the Northern Wind
Sending shivers down my spine
You're like fallen leaves
In an autumn night
You're the lullaby
Singing me to sleep
You are the other half
You're like the missing piece
Oh, my love
Oh, my love
Oh, my love
You don't know what you do to me
Oh, to me
You are all four seasons
Rolled into one
You're like the cold December snow
In the warm July sun
I'm the jet black sky
That's just before the rain
Like the mighty current
Pulling you under the waves
Oh, my love
Oh, my love
Oh, my love
You don't know what you do to me
Oh, to me
I'm the darkest hour
Just before the dawn
I'm slowly sinking
Into the the slough of despond
Like an old guitar
Worn out and left behind
I have stories still to tell
Of the healing kind
Oh, my love
Oh, my love
Oh, my love
If I could just find you tonight
If I could just find you tonight
Oh, my love
Northern Wind - City & Colour
Somehow, Missandei had convinced Daenerys to put in for time off for a little friend-filled getaway.
She thought she ought to be affronted by how swiftly her boss, Tyrion, approved it. Not five minutes after the request had been submitted did she receive a return email of its approval. It was a bit last-minute - she was almost certain it would have been denied based upon that anyway, but Tyrion assured her (two, then three times, because the guilt had set in. She never took days off) that they would have plenty of coverage.
As the senior outreach specialist for human trafficking victims, it was a difficult job to pull away from. One, because the workload never ceased, and rightfully so. It meant they were doing good, proactive things. And second, it was easy to establish a mental and emotional bond with their clients; often enough they would become so attached to their assigned specialist that it was difficult for them to regain trust in someone not so familiar to their needs. But Dany had reassured all of her people that they were in safe hands, that all of them in the program wanted the very same things, the same outcome, which was to provide a safe permanent space for them.
As reluctant as Dany had been to detach for a bit, she did suppose three years straight with only four days off - due to catching a horrific bout of influenza that forced her to be bed-bound, probably her body telling her something - took a toll on her own wellbeing. The time off would be good for her.
The only thing was, Dany was a bit suspicious of the circumstances.
"So...who's all going to be there?" She had asked Missandei, as casually as she could.
"Oh, you know. The usual old crew."
Dany narrowed her suspicion-ridden eyes at Missandei. They were making the trip up north, to the Stark family cabin for a week, concluding it with Christmas festivities. And while she was thrilled - ecstatic, actually - to see many of her friends she hadn't since New Year’s Eve after high school graduation, there was one particular person she couldn't decide if she was eager to see again, or afraid. Her heart seemed to agree that it was an equal measure of both.
"Usual crew as in... all of the usual crew?" Dany inquired, trying to keep her voice neutral, but Missi wasn't stupid. She was very well aware of what bush Dany was beating around.
Or, so she thought. Either Missi had mastered the art of lying, or she was totally truthful and equally convincing. “Yeah,” her friend said simply.
The look she gave her had her knowing that Missi knew of whom she spoke. Dany was suddenly unsure if she liked the sound of that.
She just wanted to be prepared, that was all. Nothing more, nothing less.
But fuck, what she would give to see Jon Stark again.
It was a three hour drive, tacking on a little extra time the further north they drove, since the terrain became more frigid and slick. Luckily, Missi owned an enormous tank with all-wheel drive, so the odds of sliding down the mountainside and catapulting into the depths of Long Lake were slim to none.
They had the heat blasting the entire ride, paired with a most excellent playlist they had put their heads together to create to make the trip a little less dull. Not that there was anything dull with the North - in fact, as much as her skin detested the climate, it boasted the highest honor of being the most beautiful landscape in the country, in her opinion. Rugged, rustic, tree-filled, mountain-strewn, and often everything was capped with snow, even up until their very mild summers.
She had spent much of her time in these parts, and the nostalgia was burning an ache of familiarity through her stomach. Some of her happiest memories - no, most of them - had happened here, in Winterfell, where she had become an honorable Stark. Her own family, which only consisted of her father, had been nearly fully absent in her life, and the Stark household had become more of a home than anywhere else during her teen years.
As had Jon Stark. More than anyone. And then he wasn’t. A mutual decision, but one of the most difficult ones.
Once they were far and away from the borderlands of Winterfell, she felt her chest relax a bit more, latching onto Missi’s itinerary that Robb had texted her the weekend before. There would be hiking (weather permitting, but they were going to be smack in the middle of the mountains, not to mention nearing the height of winter), ice skating (to which Dany could already picture herself either a. Falling through the ice despite the frozen temperatures or b. Breaking a bone, maybe cracking open her skull), decorating the Christmas tree, endless supply of booze and food, Secret Santa gift exchange, and an abundance of good times catching up.
Dany’s stomach was beginning to swirl violently. There were so many people she held affection for that could possibly be there, if their busy schedules aligned just right. Missi claimed that most of the RSVP’s were a bit grey, and she wasn’t entirely positive herself of the specifics in terms of guests.
They drove up the rocky terrain, the hill so steep their backs were pressed flush to their seats, but it was a wonder to see it as it fell into view: the Ironwoods, tall and mighty as they were, disappeared into the chilly fog above them, but a light dusting of snow had swept over the earth. Just beyond, several hundreds of feet below, was Long Lake, gleaming duly against the overcast skies. A little further up, and they reached the gravel driveway, where a couple of frost-blanketed cars already sat.
A black Jeep Wrangler with the Stark family crest - a howling direwolf - had to have been Robb’s, and three other large SUV’s were lined up beside it. Though it was still early afternoon, Dany could still make out the strands of string lights edged around the lodge, spiraled around the railings of the wrap-around porch, evergreens surrounding them every which way.
Missi pulled them in to a stop, and then they unpacked their bags from her trunk and back seat. Dany looked around in awe, astounded by the romantic beauty of the place. Everything about it was jaw-dropping, no matter which way you turned. There was a couple of yards of relatively flat land until it dipped gradually downward, and just beyond the wispy haze, at the very bottommost base of the mountain and outward, was a small town. The dark buildings dotted the white land.
An enormous grin split across Dany’s face. “How is this real? I feel like I’m in a Hallmark movie.”
“Wait until you see the inside,” Missi’s eyebrows jumped, “Grey and some of the guys got here yesterday, he sent me some photos because my impatient ass needed something to get me through the work day.”
Dany smiled, following her best friend up the five steps unto the porch, dragging their luggage up with them. Missi didn’t even use a key, just turned the knob and then they were in - Dany supposed it was safe enough out here to leave it unattended - and…
She decided she wanted to move in here, permanently, pronto. The first floor was one enormous space, pretty much, rich wood flooring, wall-to-floor windows, stacked stone walls, a fireplace, numerous comfortable furnishings. Couches, loveseats, rugs, more Christmas decorations than she could count. A spiral staircase disappeared into the upper floor. There were various personal belongings scattered here and there - backpacks, keys, the odd glass or two.
“Where is everyone?” Dany wondered aloud, realizing how eerily quiet it was, save for their slow footsteps.
As it were, Missi had been checking her phone. “Grey says they went into town to grab a few groceries, but should be back in a few minutes. Shall we unpack?”
Dany nodded, still too busy gawking at their environment. She had to stop one more time to appreciate the view, which was near identical to the one outside, only within warmer quarters. Her legs forced her to follow Missi upstairs, where there were 4 bedrooms.
“Okay, I don’t exactly know the room situations, only that Marge and Robb definitely have one, Arya and Gendry-"
"Arya and Gendry? " Dany gasped. "Seven hells."
She wondered how Robb and Jon took that, their little sister hooking up with one of their best friends. Dany vividly remembered the times when Arya would be caught gaping at him when he and the guys were hanging out, more notably when shirts would come off to swim or a sport would be played. Those times Arya would suddenly find interest in a game of football or feel a generous need to continuously bring the guys water and snacks.
Coincidentally, in the earliest time of Dany and Jon's blooming friendship, he'd not often participate. Usually it was the pair of them sitting on the sidelines playing referee or just watching and talking. He had been a bit self conscious for a time; he thought himself a bit on the lankier side, someone who preferred the company of computers to basketballs, but Dany anyways found that incredibly endearing. He was one of a kind, Jon Snow, not like any other man she ever knew.
When she first came here from Essos, the girl bullies had been horrid to her. One afternoon at lunch, a girl named Myranda had chopped off a chunk of Dany's hair, knowing that Dany had a presentation she had to give that week. Jon had been with her then, putting Myranda in her place before finding Dany curled up crying in the school's courtyard.
That day, he brought her back home - skipping the rest of their classes that day - where he tried to salvage the hack job, wherein Myranda had cut several quick chops and left the tresses deformed and uneven. Though she much preferred long hair, Jon had given her one of her favorite shoulder-length styles, although that was the last time it had ever been that short.
Their first year, Dany had bled through her jeans, and rather than partake in all of the giggling whispers, Jon had stood just outside of the bathroom as she cried in the stall. He had asked if there was anything he could do, if there was anything she needed, and somehow through her blubbering he made sense of her words. He'd leant her his hoodie to wrap around her waist, to hide the evidence that stained the denim, whilst she took care of the rest.
There had been countless noble Jon Snow moments she kept stored away in her memory. And, she hoped he had done the same with her.
The only room that appeared to be unclaimed was the last one, at the end of the hall. Dany set her bags down, not wanting to unpack until she knew for certain everyone had a place to sleep. And she definitely didn't want to share a bed with any couples.
The sound of voices somewhere outside caught their attention, descending the stairs until they reached the door. Missi pulled it open just as Robb and Gendry were approaching, hauling in multiple paper bags of groceries.
Dany's face hurt from grinning so madly - they were all so grown up, all remnants of their teen years traded for defined facial structures and facial hair and muscle. She made her way down the line - Grey coming into view, and then Arya, squealing so shrill it echoed through the trees.
"Oh, my gods! I didn't know you were coming!" Arya squeaked, practically throwing her entire petite self at Dany, arms winding tight around each other.
"Honestly I didn't know I was until a couple days ago," Dany huffed a laugh, "didn't think I'd be able to get away from work."
"Dany!" Marge's sultry voice cut in somewhere over by the cars - she was so inundated by Arya and all of her cold weather attire that she could barely see beyond her shoulder.
"Marge," Dany cooed, accepting another bear hug, her heart filling to the brim.
"You look marvelous," Marge breathed, pulling Dany's shoulders away to give her a magnified look-over.
"So do you," Dany returned, and she meant it - Marge was a far cry from the chubby faced, lanky teenager Dany remembered. Her hair was thick and gorgeous in its walnut hues, eyes a brilliant blue and sparkling, smile as mischievous as ever.
"I'm so glad you're here. Can you believe we graduated six years ago?" Her crystalline eyes widened, but everything fell away when Dany caught a familiar face far back, one so comely that her sixteen year old self would never have survived him now.
She barely had then.
Her heart pounded like a caged animal, vaguely aware of Gendry approaching Jon to mutter something, but he was as successful at reaching him as Marge was to her. It felt like everything suspended - time, memories, the people around them, her breath…
And then his perplexed look dissolved into one of joy, his hand rubbing over his chest a moment before Dany freed herself from Marge briefly and flung herself into his arms, an embarrassingly girlish yelp emitting from her when he clutched her close and lifted her square off her feet.
Her face hurt from smiling, her eyes becoming wet, but she kept her face hidden against his shoulder, even when she was back on the ground. She didn’t want to let go. She was confident that he could feel her heart pressing against her chest, through the very fabric of her clothes, maybe even reaching for his.
But, she supposed, it was either that or freeze themselves together out there. His hold loosened, hands still cuffing her upper arms as he held her away just enough to get a good look at her. What she saw in his familiar grey eyes left her knees weak, and her heart sore.
“So,” he rasped, his eyes struggling on where to land, finally doing so on her eyes, a plume of mist clouding around his mouth, “what have you been up to?”
All she could do was shake her head, beaming, and embrace him once more, fully intending on taking advantage of doing so until she was forced otherwise.
She was still buzzing even when dinner had been plated and they had been seated, taking up a spot between Missi and Jon. She could feel the fleeting stares on her, but she didn’t find it within herself to care. On top of it, she was eager to hear what all of her friends had been up to since last they were all together in one space, rather than communicating digitally in pieces at a time.
She also came to the very stark realization that she and Jon were the only non-romantically involved couple, and a niggling voice in the back of her mind, and a dormant hope lying buried in the depths of her heart, hoped that might change.
Arya was finishing up a master's program in psychology, determined to work with refugees fleeing to the country from Essos. Gendry was a steel welder, often working on infrastructures like skyscrapers and standing hundreds of feet above the ground, the image of it alone making Dany sick to her stomach.
Marge was a legal secretary, working her way up while her wealthy grandmother was paying for her college tuition to get through law school. She and Robb reconnected somewhat recently, so here they were, smitten and hanging all over each other in the kitchen.
Once everyone tucked in, and easy conversation began between them, Dany turned to peer at Jon, speaking softly. “Are you still living here?”
“Aye,” he sat back a bit, a gentle smile tugging his pouty lips when their eyes locked. So bloody pretty. “Not far from the house. You?”
Dany took a sip of her wine before looking at him again. His gaze was penetrating and paralyzing all at once, like he was just a kid again, with her. “Would you believe me if I said I’m in Torrhen’s Square?”
His lips parted open, a flicker of something akin to glee flashing over his face. Jon Snow was nothing if not subtle. “Huh.”
Brows raising in question, she shifted so she could face him better. “What does that mean?”
His mouth downturned and he shook his head. “Nothin’. Just surprised is all.” A coy smile danced on his lips. “You hate the cold.”
Dany snorted with a roll of her eyes, returning to her plate. “That will never change, but I can admire how beautiful it is here. More than anywhere else.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his mouth open to say something, but seemed to decide against it as he straightened himself and continued eating alongside her. A nudge on her left had her finding Missi giving her that wide-eyed, silent well? , as if she and Jon had shared some exuberant information.
Dany leaned a little closer, further from Jon’s earshot. “Did you plan this?” She softened her question with a friendly smile, if only to assure her she was the furthest thing from upset about it.
Missi muffled her voice with her cup at her lips. “Let’s just say that the stars aligned this year.”
“Whatever that means,” Dany frowned, taking a hefty drink.
The rest of dinner went by without a fuss. Dany felt warmed to her bones, jumping between different topics and discussions. It made her realize, sitting at the table, how alone she had been for so long. When she was in that element, used to the constant grind of her daily routine between work, self-care, and overall adult responsibility, she didn’t think she minded. But now that she was in this circle again, of familiar faces that were no longer pimple-faced, troublesome, hormonal, loveable teenagers, but rather successful, spirited, still-loveable adults, her loneliness felt exacerbated.
“You alright?” Jon asked, his eyes searching hers.
“Yeah,” she said with a small nod, “I just missed everyone.”
“We missed you,” he muttered, for her ears only for as hushed as he spoke it. She could not help but to think, to know, that we meant I .
Her heart thumped violently, and she was suddenly grateful for Arya’s abrupt disruption just as her eyes began to sting.
“It’s knackered games time,” she announced vibrantly, earning cheers from Marge and Missandei as they left the table to gather in the family room - which was just one large attachment to the kitchen.
Arya spread out a series of board games to choose from along the coffee table, two tall mountains worth of varying genres. Gendry and Robb argued over why monopoly was or was not the worst, how Robb was too skilled in cheating his way around the game. Jon complained that it was too long anyway, but Dany knew it was because they both knew how to cheat the game and it was useless to even try to take them on - even if it wasn’t meant to be a team effort.. Poker was a solid no from the ladies, while the guys shut down any thought of trivial pursuit.
By the time they decided, Dany was halfway through her glass filled the new bottle of wine Arya broke out, sitting beside Margaery until Arya shouted that they would start with charades.
It was simple enough, a classic go-to, split off into pairs, with Arya shooing Dany off on Jon. It remained that way for each game, and several different voices began to pipe up that they had an unfair advantage and should be split apart, that they were this way when they were kids. Jon was just as ruthless as she was in finding ways around the rules, and the continuous flow of alcohol only fueled their ambition. But, alas, they conceded to play fair. Jon and Robb switched the ladies, but Dany was pleased to find Marge was probably even more competitive than anyone else in the room, including herself.
Once they became burnt out on physical board games, they progressed to video games. Mario Kart turned them all into raging lunatics, going from following the point of the game to just trying to obliterate each other with in-game weapons. Gendry was the most aggressive and terrible, determined to turn into a digital version of bumper cars and knocking everyone off the course with little to no remorse.
By the time they reached their fourth conquest in Loaded Questions, everyone was on their fourth and fifth drinks. Dany tied up her hair to keep it off her neck, the endless bouts of laughter making her skin clammy. Jon had reclaimed his seat beside her, so Robb could reclaim his wife - or so it looked to be that way.
Arya plucked the first card, her words beginning to slur together in cursive. Just like the previous couple of games, rather than following the actual instructions, it turned into a Q&A session. Naturally, it was mutually agreed that they participate in the most potentially destructive theme.
“Which male and female celebrity would you consider having a threesome with?”
Dany wracked her mind, trying to actively picture herself shagging and getting shagged between two celebrities.
All she could think of was Jon, and she had to blink several times to shake it from her head and concentrate before she blurted out the words Jon Snow .
“I’ll go first,” Arya stated, “it’s a no-brainer: Chris Evans and Emma Watson.”
“Ooh, nice,” Marge concurred.
“It’s gotta be Rachel McAdams and Taylor Lautner,” Robb threw in, and Dany spluttered her drink, hovering over her cup so as not to make a gigantic mess. Of herself or her drink.
“The guy from Twilight? Really?” She squeaked, thus making the table snort and chortle, wet laughter from their increasingly intoxicated brains.
Robb scoffed at the lot of them, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “Please, like you weren’t happy he was shirtless for eighty percent of those movies.”
“You watched all of them?” Marge asked, poking her husband’s ribs relentlessly.
“All because Arya had a manic Twilight phase,” he argued.
“For all of five seconds, until that stupid dream sequence in the last movie. What a waste. Anyway, Missi? Grey?”
Missi folded her hands in her lap. “Oscar Isaac and Kate Beckinsale."
"Damn, that’s good. Uuhhh," Grey tilted his head left to right, "Margot Robbie and James Dean.”
“Hot,” Marge said, lifting her glass toward him.
Jon scratched at his beard, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling in thought. “Shit, I don’t know...definitely Brad Pitt. And...Keira Knightley.”
“I hope you mean, like, Fight Club Brad Pitt, because he’s a little washed up now,” Arya countered.
“Some of us aren’t that shallow,” Jon retorted, while Arya screwed up her face and stuck her tongue out at him. “Still leagues better than Taylor fucking Lautner.”
“Sorry, hun, I have to agree with Jon,” Marge sighed, leaning into Robb’s disgruntled self.
Jon gave Dany a pointed look to take her turn, brow lifted with eager curiosity. “Henry Cavill and Kate Beckinsale.”
A low whistle sounded from him, and Dany dramatically flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder with a giggle.
“Could you imagine their kids? Seven hells,” Arya said, then nudged Gendry with her elbow none too gently as he grunted in its wake, “hurry up, you’re holding us up!”
“I don’t even follow celebrities,” he whined, tossing his hands up, “gods, I don’t know...Mark Ruffalo and...Celine Dion.”
“What the fuck?” Arya smacked his arm with a scowl. It was no wonder, to Dany, who wore the pants in their relationship, but it was clearly all in good fun - Gendry appeared to enjoy riling her up. The rest of them snickered into their drinks as Gendry tossed his arms up again, going on about how he was sorry he wasn’t in the loop with pop culture as much as everyone else. “It’s okay, we still love you,” Arya said, cuddling up against him as she moved on to the next card. “What do you consider to be the physically sexiest part of a woman?”
“Ass,” Robb shot off straight away, almost before the last word had been uttered.
“Figures,” Arya said wryly.
“Eyes,” Jon said, taking a hefty swig of his drink. For a beat, his eyes pinned to Dany’s, making her shift in her seat next to him, lowering hers to the table.
“That’s so sweet,” Marge drawled, mouth downturned into a pout, “I have to go with hands.”
“Please don’t elaborate on that,” Jon pleaded with a shake of his head after she had given Robb a pointed look, sitting back against the couch.
Marge wiggled satisfactorily in her seat with a wicked grin, eyebrows bouncing toward Robb, whilst Arya mumbled something about regretting this game and maybe Apples to Apples would have been a safer bet.
“Smile,” Dany and Arya agreed in unison, knocking fists.
“Eyebrows,” Grey said, leaning over to peck Missi’s full ones.
“I like eyes,” Missi said matter-of-factly with a nod, air high-fiving across the space to Jon.
Everyone set their eyes on Gendry. “You are absolute shit at this, aren’t you?” Arya needled, jabbing his ribs.
“ Eyes ,” he practically growled, muffling Arya’s complaints with a sloppy kiss to her mouth.
“Could we maybe tone down the PDA to, like, a zero?” Robb suggested, shielding the view of his sister and Gendry snogging by placing his hand up to his face.
Dany settled back into the couch, dully noting that something warm and firm was over the cushion, and becoming hyper aware of the fact that it was Jon’s arm. Neither of them moved, and in fact, she felt his thumb brush over her sweater-covered shoulder.
“Let me try,” Marge said, leaning forward to take up the next one, clearing her throat. “What puts you to sleep at night?”
“A good fuck,” Robb said, sluggishly, downing the rest of his half-full glass in two gulps. Dany had a feeling he was going to not be feeling so well in the morning.
Everyone groaned at his response. “I’m beginning to regret this entire thing,” Jon mumbled.
“You just can’t say shit like that and get on my case about making out with my boyfriend,” Arya tossed a piece of cheese square at her brother’s chest, from the spread that was displayed over the coffee table.
While they went back and forth in their bickering, Dany could feel the effects of the alcohol buzzing through her, and with that came a little extra courage. She scooted closer to Jon, until their legs touched, then laid the side of her head against his shoulder. Even amongst the sibling rivalry going on, she could hear and feel Jon sigh, smiling when his arm dropped to curl around her shoulders.
She was so content then, she had nearly dozed off after a few moments, until Arya practically shook her brains to wake her up, igniting a whine from her, turning away from the offender to bury her face into Jon. In her haze, she didn’t realize she was completely nuzzled into his neck, a searing heat spreading over her cheeks.
“Come on, party pooper, we’re playing Twister,” Arya tugged on Dany’s other arm, “winner gets to pick the loser that has to take a dip in the lake. Naked.”
She rolled her face away from Jon’s warm skin, hoping he wasn’t taking note of hers that was rightly flushed, her brow wrinkling at her little friend who had her hand on her cocked hip. “That sounds like the worst idea you’ve ever had. Are there even any hospitals nearby?”
Arya snorted, booping Dany’s nose with her finger. “It isn’t Stark tradition if every cabin guest doesn’t end up in the lake. Especially as an honorary Stark yourself.”
Jon chuckled at that, and Dany sighed, though not without a warm smile. The idea horrified her, but that only propelled her competitive side.
It had been going so, so well. Perhaps too well.
They agreed on seven rounds, rotating teams of three - the maximum they could fit three fully-sized adults on the vinyl mat. And it was fucking hysterical. Robb laughed himself to the point of vomiting, though luckily he had made it to the kitchen sink rather than sharing all over the carpet, or the game board. Or any of them.
He was immediately disqualified for that purpose.
Arya had the advantage of her slightness, giving her more flexibility to work around other bodies in her way, and she had managed five rounds before her knee buckled and touched to the floor, leaving her lying stomach-first to give her limbs a rest.
Marge had been eliminated after the first go because she thought she’d be capable enough to hold her tumbler in her hand whilst bending herself into a downward dog position. Grey and Missi collapsed in the third, which left Gendry, Jon, and Dany for the final cycle.
At present, Dany’s head was trapped between both men’s asses, and she was laughing so hysterically she was teetering dangerously losing her balance, and thus the game, her feet and hands planted beneath her.
Gendry erupted in a watery snort. “Fuck! I drooled. Don’t slip on that. Or maybe you should.”
Jon grunted, though Dany couldn’t see his exact dilemma unless she peered beneath her, upside down, all the blood rushing to her head and making the room spin horrifically for a moment.
Arya played referee, hardly understandable through her girlish giggles. She spun the spinner, a cacophony of squeals emitting from her, followed by Robb and Missi who were apparently standing over Arya’s shoulder. The godsdamned peanut gallery.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Jon pleaded, shifting his legs and bumping the side of his arse against Dany’s head.
“Get your ass out of my face,” Dany butted him over with her head, yelping when her wobbly legs nearly toppled over with her.
“That’s cheating,” Jon accused.
“Okay, okay,” Arya wheezed, “right hand on red.”
Dany’s eyes searched the mat, her mouth falling open. “ What?! ”
“Ah, fuck,” Gendry groused.
“What the shit…?” Jon said.
“Okay, hold on. Jon, I have to...I have to put my head between your legs,” she giggled stupidly despite herself, hanging her head to try and collect some of her dignity and her breath.
“Rather you than Gendry,” he replied cheekily, and if she was just a quarter bit more sober - and willing to risk forfeiture of the game - she would have lifted a hand to give him a good smacking on his bum. Arya and the rest of them were beside themselves at their predicament.
But, alas, she was not going to lose, because she was not skinny dipping in those icy waters. Gendry and Jon made their moves, and Dany held her breath as she slid her head between Jon’s spread thighs, so that it looks as though he were giving birth to her through his back end.
Everyone was breathless for several minutes straight, tears pouring down their faces. Danys’ arms were shaking, and she had to beg Arya to hurry up and call the next move, her body twisted at the middle. She was going to fucking kill the little brunette, even if she didn’t have control over the instruction.
...or did she?
There was no time to stew on it, however, because the next call had Jon collapsing over her, therefor bringing both of them down and declaring Gendry the winner. In recompense, Dany lifted Jon’s leg over her head, so that his crotch was no longer over her neck, jamming her fingers mercilessly into all of his leg and arm crooks for losing the game for them. With his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he captured her wrists and pulled her down over him, caging her against his chest so she could no longer assault him.
Out of breath and most of her energy, she went limp, throwing in the proverbial towel. “I hate you,” she said affectionately.
His cheek coming to rest atop her head, he sighed. “You wish.”
“Alright, so who went down first?” Missi pondered aloud, “Because I’m pretty sure I saw Dany’s elbows touch at the same time Jon’s did.”
"Jon did!" Dany exclaimed, desperate. I am not getting in that water.
"Gendry kneed me in the balls," Jon deflected. Dany snorted.
"I think as winner I should decide," Gendry avowed, making a show by puffing out his chest.
"I'll do it," Jon said, sitting up and taking Dany with him until he stood them up with a warble.
"Or, better yet," Gendry wagged his finger, "both of you. Dany's christening."
The room filled with ooo's , but Dany was shaking her head vigorously. "No way !"
"I don't know, Dany," Jon's traighterous voice came, and she planted her hands on her hips. He shrugged all so innocently. "It is tradition."
I hate you , she mouthed, which only ignited a sly smirk and fucking puppy eyes . She tossed her head back, decidedly a bad idea as she nearly took her entire self down with the movement, but braced herself on the couch.
When she looked over to her side, six pairs of twinkling eyes gaping at her. "Okay, fine," she begrudgingly agreed. " But, no audience."
"We need a witness," Marge practically whined.
"Jon can be my...witness…," she trailed off, realizing with just a little horror, and a niggling excitement and nervousness, that he was going to see her totally nude. And she, him. Although they'd be in the pitch of night, the moon long risen, the clouds had given way to a quarter moon, it would be just enough that they would be illuminated.
A prickly chill unrelated to the weather trickled down from the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet.
Gods, if her head went any more off kilter...maybe the shock of Long Lake would do her some good.
Robb gathered them both several thick, plush cotton towels and robes. After Jon and Dany were bundled up in their clothes and boots, arms filled with the towels, the rest of their friends stampeded upstairs to fight over who would get the best window view of them out at the lake. They would only be able to spot their silhouettes, but it would be enough to know they stayed true to their word.
Sometimes I wonder if we ever aged past fourteen?
She was already shivering the first few steps into the crunchy yard, or what constituted as a yard - it was mostly a steady decline of a massive hill that disappeared into the lake.
There was a dull thud behind them, and then a voice - Gendry’s, to be exact, shouting, “don’t worry, you guys can get naked in the hot tub afterwards! Perfect opportunity!”
“Fuck off,” Jon called back, the cackles of their friends disappearing as they closed whatever window they managed to holler out of.
But Dany wasn’t too dismayed, mostly because there was an instant source of warmth to look forward to. “There’s a hot tub?” She breathed, digging her heels into the ground so she wouldn’t tumble down and break something.
“You didn’t see it? It’s probably the best view in the house,” he mused. Dany kept close to him, the shadows cast by the trees somewhat obscuring the glow of the moonlight and making her buzzed head feel she might get her foot caught in a root or something similar.
“No, I didn’t get a chance to look around much,” she said, slightly breathless on the decline, until it finally flattened out. The grassy earth graduated into the water, which had not yet frozen over for the evening. “This is such a terrible idea. Is there a hospital nearby?”
Panic was setting in now - what if she had some unknown underlying health condition she didn’t know about, and the temperature fucked her up? Or, hypothermia?
Before she registered it, they had stopped - or rather, Jon had, and she almost bumped into him. He turned to face her, so close that the plumes of mist from his mouth nearly reached her face. “You don’t actually have to do it, Dany. Everyone is probably too knackered to remember anything by the morning, anyway.”
A small, trembling smile lifted her lips. His eyes were gleaming in the limited light, reminding her of sparklers on a warm summer night. She shook her head, a tiny gesture. “I’ve committed now, Jon Snow. Plus, it wouldn’t be like us if one of us bailed on the other, would it?”
Little crinkles formed at his eyes, a flash of teeth bright in the dark. “No, it wouldn’t. Promise not to look,” he nodded toward her, and she could only roll her eyes, but that was half the reason for her tremors.
Some distance was put between them, though she was almost inclined to stay close to him, if not to absorb whatever body heat she could before making the plunge. Not that it would matter in a minute, and anyway, that was maybe a little forward.
For now.
She trained her eyes on her several layers of clothes. Jon was a little out of arms’ reach from her, so one glance his way would probably bring her to her knees. The concentration she put into undoing zippers, buttons, and peeling off thick material should have been rewarded for how hard she was avoiding getting a glimpse at him.
She could already tell, through his black fitted sweater and jeans as painted on him as hers, that his physique was muscled, lean, and cut.
The moment she was down to her bra, her pants not yet shed, she drew in a sharp lungful of air, then decided there was no time to make this a process. In record speed, everything was dropped to a heaping pile at her feet, crossing her arms over her breasts, her thighs squeezed together to preserve heat.
From her peripheral, pale skin reflected to her left, and she could just make out his legs relieving themselves from his jeans.
“
Woohoo! Nice ass!!!”
Someone yelled from afar, the shock of the sound momentarily making her forget she was meant
not
to swivel her head that way, but it was too late: her eyes caught on Jon Snow, in all of his naked glory, his hands cupped over his private bits, his eyes locking on hers as he seemed to have made the very same mistake.
For one painful beat, it seemed they were waging war on who would slip up first and let their gaze fall downward, but to her astonishment, neither broke. “Ready?” He asked, a hesitant grin dancing on his lips. It didn’t sound like he was nearly as affected by the cold as she was, his voice sounding about as normal as it had been inside.
Dany nodded fervently, expecting some delay, but Jon sprinted off, not toward the water, but at her , his strong arms hoisting her up in his while she squealed. The air was biting on her skin, arms clutching around Jon in a vice, and the moment they were submerged, there was nothing but whole-body shock to her entire system. By some miracle, she hadn’t inhaled a mouthful of water once she went under during her natural reaction to gasp greedily for air. They were resurfaced a moment later, grateful they were still shallow enough that her feet could touch the bottom, else she knew she didn’t have it in her to use her limbs to swim properly.
“Holy shit!” She screeched, voice breaking at Jon who was up to his shoulders, just as she was.
It sucked more than anything, yet they were both laughing hysterically, spurred on by their bodies shivering incessantly. She thought she was going to die if she didn’t get out soon, so she sought out her nearest source of warmth, once more as she waded over, and he met her in the middle, collecting her bridal style again as she latched on much like a sloth would a tree..
The skin to skin contact did little to relieve the cold, but it warmed her heart, their breaths coming out in shallow, harsh pants until they were on dry ground again.
Gently, he set her down on her feet, the first thing he worried himself over being wrapping her snugly in the towels, keeping his head turned away from prying and doing so half blindly. She would have told him it didn’t matter if she could trust her voice to work. He tucked a towel around his waist, bundling his upper half before he was unexpectedly scooping her up again, raspy, quivering voice muttering something about worrying about their clothes tomorrow.
Heat washed over them when they returned back inside, greeted by a symphony of cheers, Dany’s teeth clacking when she attempted a smile. Jon was on a mission, carrying them off upstairs, until they were then inside the most beautiful bathroom she had ever seen in her life.
It resembled something more of a spa room, if it weren’t for the walled off toilet and shower area. Floor-to-ceiling windows started from one corner and took up half of two walls. If it hadn’t been nearly eleven, she was familiar with the location enough to know it would offer the most incredible mountain views, The hot tub was on a raised wood platform, the jets roaring and calling her name.
“I’ll go grab some clothes for us,” Jon said, carefully lowering her onto the platform before she could tell him to wait and get warm first.
Tossing off the towels, she stuck her feet in first, her skin erupting in gooseflesh and making her gasp, slowly dipping further in until her chin touched the water. The steam rolling off warmed her face, her skin feeling numb at the temperature change. She tilted her head back, the heat a hot tickle against her scalp, then pressed her back against one of the walls.
Jon returned a minute later, closing the door behind him and dropping a heaping pile of clothes to the floor. He still hadn’t removed his towels; she had expected he might throw on shorts or swim shorts, but she barely averted her eyes before he was stripping them away to hop in. He was as desperate for warmth as her, despite his northern blood.
He disappeared beneath the water, popping back up and swiping the water from his face and combing his hair away from his face. All she could see were his broad shoulders and smooth chest, but fuck, the sudden realization of how intimate this was made her head rush.
“Feel better?” He asked, still a little winded.
Dany nodded with a soft smile. “You?”
“Loads. I forgot how shitty that was,” he chuckled, his cheeks turning a lovely pink from the rising steam. She could feel her eyes growing heavy, exhaustion seeping into her bones. If it were possible without the risk of drowning, she’d consider curling up with her head on the floor and sleeping right where she was.
“It was a fun shitty, though,” she said, his brows rising just a hair, taken by surprise.
Then a goofy grin split across his face. “It was.”
She had the most desperate urge to curl up with him again, but as the absence of clothing was a current hindrance, she’d have to settle for where she was. Plus, she wasn’t entirely certain what was going to happen, where they might be going, if anywhere, with their relationship. She had many, many high hopes, but she didn’t wish to suspend them too high. She still wanted - needed - to catch up the last several years with him. He might not want the same things as her, though that sour thought barely held any water. She could tell just by the look in his eyes, how he regarded her with just as much warmth as he did back when, how eager he was to hold her just as she was him.
He crossed the tub to take up a spot beside her, sitting on the built in bench. "Tell me what you've been doing the last six years."
Dany exhaled slowly, her muddled brain conjuring up a life synopsis. "Let's see...I graduated from Pentos University with a dual major in psychology and sociology, on top of that internship that you already know about."
He hummed with familiarity, eyes burning holes through her with how intently he was absorbing her every word. She smiled, watching a series of bubbles from the tub jets in front of her.
"I've pretty much spent the entire time working up to where I am now."
Jon lifted his brows, urging her on. Her cheeks burned, fighting off a smile. He knew precisely where this was going. It was a common topic of discussion before they had agreed to go separate ways, their dreams, all the things they aspired to do and to be.
And that maybe someday, fate would have them meet again, when they achieved what they'd set out to do. When all the stars aligned, as Missandei had said.
And here they were. Yet, she couldn't help but be afraid, horrified by the idea that making the leap to turn their friendship into something more would throw their delicate peace off its axis. She didn't want to ruin it. That, she thought, would break her heart more than anything else. Making their relationship irredeemable.
"I did it," she beamed with a nod, "the trafficking agency. It's still working through some growing pains, but I'm happy with it. Really happy with it."
Jon's face brightened like a lit up Christmas tree. "Dany, that's fucking amazing," he said with such reverence that she had to break their gaze, leaving the question she'd been dying to ask since her brain registered that he was truly a physical presence, and not her imagination.
"What about you?" She lifted her brows a bit, hopeful as she gathered her wits enough to seek him out again, "did you find your happiness?"
His jaw did that thing again - the hesitation as his jaw opened, closed, the muscles there protruding. His eyes were molten silver, warm like liquified metal, drifting down her face until they settled on her lips, lingering for a beat, the water becoming their landing spot. A small, insincere smile pulled on his lips. "I did. Only very recently, though," he drew in a breath, "after dad died, he left Robb some things. This place, his law firm, the big house. He didn't want the firm - he was happy where he was, so I took it, since I was familiar with the field and it was a perfect opportunity. He didn't want everything, definitely didn't want to manage two houses, so…," he lifted his hand and swept it across the air, "he let me take this."
Dany's eyes bugged. "This is yours? "
A sheepish smile grew on his face with a tiny nod. "Aye."
There was something, or some things , lying under the surface there as his expression became distant. She had a thousand questions, but first she wanted to know of his joys and everything else. "Do you like it? Being in the law firm?"
"I do, actually," he grinned, "I thought I'd find it insufferable once I actually began practicing, but luckily dad left behind a decent enough reputation that I can be choosy about my clients. Don't have to defend complete pieces of shit if I don't want to, which I never do. Never have."
Dany smiled - it should be silly how she feared that time may have changed him, hardened him beyond recognition, but Jon Snow was very much still there. Vivid and alive and next to her. Naked. Which she continued to forget about in their peace.
She blinked a few times, tried to see beneath the bubbly, frothy surface of the ever moving water for his hand, not wanting to accidentally grab something else and traumatize both of them. To be safe, she closed the miniscule space between them and laid her head against his shoulder, the feel of his cheek settling atop her head making her giddy with glee.
"How is Cat?" She asked, her heart giving a start when she felt him go a bit rigid. Tilting her chin up a bit, she searched him, his mouth slightly downturned.
Taking in a breath, he cleared his throat. "Okay, from what I hear."
Dany's brow wrinkled with wonder - he and Cat had not been the closest, but lived together on neutral-friendly territory. Still, he held at least enough affection for her, especially after Ned's passing when they were seventeen, that she wouldn't expect such a melancholy reaction from him. Lifting her head gently, she brought up her hand and brushed her fingers against his coarse beard. "What happened?" She inquired softly.
There was a small pause. He leaned into her touch before collecting her hand and, to her surprise, pressed a kiss to her knuckles before settling their joined hands between them, where their legs touched. She tried to even out her breaths, since she stopped doing so until he spoke again.
"Dad's death wrecked her," he frowned thoughtfully, "she became a whole different person, like the trauma just...devoured what was left of her warmth. She didn't show that side of her to me that often, which I learned to live with, as you know," he tilted his face toward her with a glancing smile, then stared forward. "But she supported me when it counted. Until she found out Robb and I split dad's belongings between one another - some went to Arya and Sansa, of course, but the most meaningful things...that was the first time she went off on me. Said how I never belonged there, I should have been sent to a foster home."
Dany felt her heart crack, racing in her chest, her eyes dampening. No words could ever heal such abuse, so she squeezed his hand and fixed her chin onto his shoulder. A small gesture of support.
Another breath seeped into his nose. "It went on for a while. I eventually moved out, obviously, but I was stuck there until I could get enough clients, bring in steady money. Robb was with Marge and I didn't want to impose on them and their privacy. But the worst…," he swallowed hard, "was on dad's death anniversary two years ago, and she screamed at me, telling me it had been my fault that my whore of a mother had crashed her car. That if I hadn't been crying and wailing in my car seat, maybe she could have concentrated on the roads and the snowstorm better, and avoided…," he shook his head, a jerky movement, as Dany's eyes freely shed tears to mix with his already damp skin. "Everything."
Before he could give it a moment's more thought, to even begin considering that he was at all at fault - even if he had plenty of time to do so before now - she cupped her hand over his cheek and turned his face to see her. Her tone was firm, a severe contrast to the pain she felt and knew he was, too. "Listen to me, Jon. You don't believe in that bullshit for even one second, do you hear me? Ned had the police report, and a witness, remember? You were two years old. A reckless asshole was responsible for all of it, not you ."
Her blood was on fire now, voice trembling.
Dany remembered the story well enough. It had been Robb's fifteenth birthday, and a bunch of friends were staying at the Winterfell house - herself included. A house riddled by fourteen and fifteen year olds, but Ned Stark loved every single second of it. They had a sleepover, and in the middle of the night, Dany had wandered her way down to the kitchen for a glass of water, and found Ned sitting at the counter in the dim under-cabinet light. She and Ned had grown very close, very quickly - her own mother had died birthing her, and her father was a mentally absent alcoholic. Basically an extension of the couch he barely ever left. Ned fulfilled the parental role so effortlessly, it made her realize the magnitude of how much she longed for that sort of relationship. Winterfell became more of a home in more ways than one, hardly ever staying with Aerys when she could avoid it, which was almost full time.
“Does your wife know you’re sneaking donuts alone at two in the morning?” She had teased against Ned’s hand-caught-in-the-cookie jar expression, a donut whole frozen halfway up to his mouth. She had taken it upon herself to retrieve a glass from the cabinet, giggling at Ned’s put-on pout - that was where Jon must have gotten it from - filling her glass with the water dispenser at the refrigerator before joining him on his neighboring stool.
He swished his finger in the air between them, mouth stuffed as he spoke. “No, and it will remain that way.” At that, he plucked another from the box he was hoarding and dropped it into her hand.
She was the furthest thing from hungry, her mind and body not quite entirely awake, but she loved the man, one of the sweetest souls in the known world, so she accepted it anyway. He was used to keeping their pantry stocked to the brim with teenagers constantly in, out, and living there, anyway - an open-door policy that was so foreign to her, but that gave her her found family. Her only family.
It was difficult to see from afar, in the limited light, but the skin around his eyes were pink and puffy. It was easy enough, then, to understand that he was grieving over something, and donuts just-so-happened to take the brunt of his emotional warfare. “You okay, Mr. Stark?”
His face dropped, nudging the box away from him, more toward her. He was waging whether or not to share his thoughts, a tight, strained smile spreading over his kind face, his elbows planting atop the counter while he pressed his clasped hands to his chin. “Has Jon ever spoke of his mother to you?”
That was probably one of the last things she expected to hear, but she also didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps something along the lines of Robb growing up, gaining another year. “Yes. Not in great detail. He gets really down, but they were both in the car driving home during one of the worst snow storms the north had seen in years. A man hit them...Jon survived.”
She swallowed the knot threatening to strangle her. It was terrible and tragic enough that Lyanna had been lost, but to think Jon would never have been in her life…
Ned made a sound resembling a grunt of affirmation, his eyes lost and fixed somewhere off in the kitchen. “He was high, that other driver. Some sort of stimulant, I can’t quite remember. In his twenties, same as Lya. He went to prison for the rest of his life. The witness who happened across her car shortly after…,” tears pooled in Ned’s eyes, and Dany blinked back ones of her own, reaching forward to steal one of his hands to hold. “She attested that Lya managed to...to unravel herself from that twisted steel to comfort Jon. He had a few bumps and bruises, but the car seat saved his life. The lover of his mother probably did, too. She died holding his hand.”
Ned dropped his forehead to his quivering hand, sniffing, and Dany thought it useless to not let herself mourn, as well.
“In court,” he continued hoarsely, fighting to keep his voice low to not rouse anyone from sleep, “the witness and police had testified that the man who had hit their car head-on was going three times above the speed limit in dry conditions. Imagine that but in a half foot of snow. A blizzard, no less.”
Dany’s eyes scoured the counter, reaching over to drag the napkin tray between them and offering him one first. He murmured his thanks, blowing his nose. “Anyway. Today is the anniversary of her death. Thirteen years, gods. This is usually the only time I can let myself grieve - I’ve done it every day since, really - but I could never let it overshadow Robb’s day. The kids, they all understand it, know what else today means. Jon feels it the most, of course. I think he hides it well.”
Unable to keep the tiny laugh from bubbling up, Ned turned to peer at her in question. “You would be surprised at how sensitive Jon is. In only the best way, of course. A big softie.”
“Aye,” Ned said, sighing heavily, “I’ve a strong feeling that’s for your eyes only, Dany.”
She had rolled her eyes, waving him off. “Sorry, Mr. Stark, but I’m positive he gets that from you.”
He spluttered. “Me? Big softie?” He grimaced good-naturedly with a wink, making her laugh softly. His eyes sought the clock on the oven, heaving a long breath. “You best get back to bed. Robb has an entire itinerary planned for us tomorrow.”
Dany gave his hand a couple of pats before scooping up her glass of water. “You too, mister,” she narrowed her eyes at him, a playfully pointed glare as she slipped off her stool.
Just as she got to the base of the stairs, he called her name, spinning on her heel. “Thanks for the hangs.”
Dany cringed at his vernacular, shaking her head at him as he chuckled - his dad humor was always on point, even if he did only pick up certain words and phrases from his kids if only to torture them with it. “Sure thing, big softie.”
Dany did not know, and never asked, if Jon knew all of the nitty gritty details that she did about his mother’s death. Only that he was well and truly loved by her. Ned made a point to remind him of that constantly. That was all that mattered in the end, to understand he was the center of Lyanna Stark’s world, her heart having grown too big for her chest with how much she adored her son.
Jon’s eyes were lined with dormant tears, but he nodded, filling her with relief. “I do,” he murmured, “but I lived believing it for a long time.”
Pressing her eyes closed, she gently pressed her forehead against his, content on simply reassuring him that she would always be there for him, regret taking root in her stomach that their communication had suffered after they graduated, that she had no idea what sort of emotional turmoil he must have been facing alone.
“Dany,” he whispered, his warm knuckled smoothing over her cheek, while her hand was still attached to his. She hadn’t realized she’d begun crying, privately cursing herself and hoping, weakly, he would pass it off as steam, but the tears were fat and the source was obvious this close when she parted her lids open to find his jarringly close, burning holes into hers. “We agreed, remember? That we would work our asses off, not letting anything or anyone stop us - including you or I - until we were where we wanted to be. And then-”
A dopey, emotional grin split her face, finishing his sentence for him. “-and then we would find each other again, and see how we felt then.”
A tiny breath puffed through his nose, his eyes crinkling just so. Her heart was racing a million miles a second, goosebumps lining her skin despite her surrounding warmth. Jon’s head moved just a fraction, a decidedly intentional angle, one that would be ideal for kissing. Soft sweeps of his breath dusted across her parted lips, her eyes fluttering closed-
Until the door crashed open, startling them both apart, her heart in her throat as Robb stood there, stark naked and arms spread wide, screaming, “ it’s orgy time! ”
With urgency, Dany shielded her grieving eyes with her hands, an overwhelming clamor of Marge chortling yet trying to stop her husband from his self-proclaimed orgy offering, the rest of their feral friends finding this mortifying situation far too amusing.
“Robb, what the fuck!” Jon shouted, and she could hear a definite trace of anger in there, but it was shortlived just as she was inching around the hot tub toward the towels, Robb gave another howl and fucking canon-balled into the water. Dany shrieked, wanting to get away from this secretly over-the-top horny side of one of her best friends before he could even think to take advantage of her nakedness.
“Bloody fuckin’ hells,” Jon grumbled somewhere behind her - she was too afraid to even accidentally have Robb’s pale nude body further burned into her retinas, solely focused on escaping.
But, once more, luck was not on her side, for then every once sane-minded person was joining them, though thankfully they remained fully clothed. And they were far, far beyond the fun limits of drunk - they were absolutely blitzed out of their minds, and since she and Jon had sobered considerably in their little bubble, that meant they were left to remember all of this while the others could be blissfully ignorant.
Well, at least they had free blackmail. Dany only wished her phone was nearby so she could document it and maybe even print the photos as gifts.
For the next however long, until Dany’s eyes felt heavy as anchors and her face ached terribly from all of their laughing, she realized that she loved every single one of these crazy assholes, and that, to her pleasant confirmation, not much had changed at all.
Naturally, she and Jon had managed to free themselves from the asinine insanity of their friends. It was a game in and of itself to sneak out of the water without a single soul peeping at them, or cat-calling, especially when they left together wrapped only in towels. The clothes Jon had brought for them were tucked beneath his arm as they made the slow ascent to the bedrooms upstairs. Despite their interruption, and the obvious shift of energy between them, she was delighted that no awkwardness lay between them.
Maybe that was all in part to how affectionate they always were with one another.
Regardless, after Dany was dried, dressed, and had blow-dried her hair so she didn’t soak her pillow, exhaustion blanketed her now that she was dry and heart full. When she crossed the hall to seek out Jon, to bid him goodnight, she noticed that the light to her presumed-borrowed room was on. Quirking a brow, that was where she found Jon, his hair damp and rumpled and extra springy from the humidity of the hot tub. Dressed only in grey sweatpants, which were notched low on his len hips, his back turned to her as he began pulling back the sheets to the bed.
Leaning her hip against the doorframe, she crossed her arms, keeping her voice smooth so she wouldn’t jolt him.
The gods knew they had enough shocks for one evening.
“Stealing my room, are you?” She teased, his hand carding through the damp, loose-hanging curls around his eyes as he turned to face her.
“The other way around, little bandit,” he smirked, nudging the baggage she had dropped off in there earlier that morning, which now felt like a whole week ago.
A dusting of pink rose to her cheeks upon her realization, momentarily forgetting that of course this was his room - he lived here, which explained the lack of luggage when she somewhat claimed it earlier. “Oh. Oops,” she smiled sleepily, pulling her hood up over her head, desperate to maintain heat in the slightly chilly room. Knowing Jon, he probably kept his vents closed, as he did in the early days. She swore northerners were half mad.
He stared at her, just for a second, then tilted his head, gesturing for her to come in. It shouldn’t have horrified her so much, seeing him begin to collect a light blanket, noticing belatedly that he must have already begun doing so before she walked in. Saw her luggage sitting there - obviously hers, given her unusual obsession with dragons, as they were imprinted on her leather luggage tags - something she never remembered to remove in her occasional travels - and thought he should give her the honors. “I’ll take one of the couches.”
Bringing her lip between her teeth, the dread filling her stomach was absolutely ridiculous. She was just as deprived for his company as she always had been. The kids at school always bullied her, poked and prodded to the point of tears, about how desperate and needy she was for attention. Not just from Jon, but from so many friendships she had made over her time at Winterfell High, whether they crumbled or thrived. They weren’t wrong; in her vast knowledge of how the human brain operated, it made total sense that she should feel that way, what with her only living parent at the time only speaking to her with spitting and hurtful words. That had hurt as much as any physical assault, sharp lashings to her mental and emotional welfare. And while Ned had given her as much of himself as was appropriate for someone who was not a biological father, that longing had always been there, to be loved, for affection from her father, but finding it elsewhere.
And when it was returned, those relationships were the most frightening and fragile, because she became so deeply attached that if and when they ultimately fractured, it hurt her that much more.
Jon would be right there, under the same roof, obviously no motive to be elsewhere, or giving her any red flags that once the magic of this little getaway was over, they might go back to how things were. What became their new normal. The one that never felt whole without him in it.
Still, she wasn’t ready to let him out of her sight; not just yet.
“No,” she began, his hands stilling at her words and his eyes growing impossibly soft, as if maybe he had been anticipating her to say as much. Though not to hog the bed all to himself. The thought made her smile, anyway. “I can, or...we can share. If that’s not weird.”
His shoulders slumped slightly, casting her an all-to-knowing look. “How many times have we slept in the same bed with it ever being weird?”
“Probably that time I woke up to find Arya had snuck in in the night and fell asleep between us,” she answered easily, making him huff and roll his eyes. While Arya was tough on the exterior, she’d had one particularly rough nightmare that specific night, and snuck her way into Jon’s bed.
“You know what I mean, smartarse.”
Now was not the time to make it awkward, but it needed to be addressed. Their almost-kiss.
Our second almost-kiss. Seven save me.
“Yeah, well,” she tucked her loose hair behind her ears, almost fumbling for her words, and hating the notes of bitterness that seeped in. She wasn't angry with anyone, not even with Robb for breaking their spell, but maybe a little flustered.
You're fucking sexually starved, Dany, just admit it.
Her words tumbled out so hastily, he probably questioned if mayhaps she was still drunk, despite her hitting every syllable. “Those times we didn’t almost kiss beforehand.”
Again, another pause, dragging her eyes away when all the teasing abandoned his pretty face. Feeling childishly stubborn, she refused to look at him even when he put the bed back in order, until he was in her space and nothing but a trim abdomen filled her view.
"Hey," he whispered, his northern burr forever a tonic to her soul, and her stupid eyes wettened yet again. His finger pressed under her chin, a gentle beckoning until she was once more drowning in his soulful eyes. She was embarrassed by her turn in mood; she wanted to blame the leftover liquor effects, her utter exhaustion, anything else that would distract her from the real, raw reason this was all coming on so quickly. "How about this? No more almosts. I'm fucking sick of them. I've missed out on too much shit because of them and I'm not getting any younger."
Dany could not help the dopey smile, nor did she want to. "I believe the kids call that YOLO, Jon.”
His nose wrinkled adorably, his thumb sweeping over the apple of her cheek. Heart quickening, she had to voluntarily remind herself to breathe, lest she pass out at his feet and thus continue their unlucky streak. “What do you think, Dany?”
She blinked - was it safe to assume he was thinking along the same lines as her? Given their current position, she couldn’t think otherwise, could barely do so with him so close and imposing and comely. Almost subconsciously, she licked her lips, raising her hands to lay on his upper chest and hoping maybe he didn’t notice the tremble in them. The way that he shuddered told her it didn’t matter, his free arm looping around her sweater-clad waist. “No more almosts,” she breathed through a tiny smile, nodding conclusively.
For a second, he closed his eyes, moving the hand that was on her cheek to cradle her jaw. “Fuckin’ finally,” he whispered before dropping his head to fill the sliver of space between them, his warm, plush lips nestling against hers.
Pressing her eyes closed, a soft gasp filled her nose as she lightly gripped his lats, a prickly sensation overwhelming her entire body. He was so soft, and gentle, and so Jon that she ached for more. Slowly, he tugged her closer, then walked her backwards so that the movement closed the door behind her. It began slow and sweet, and then his tongue glanced over her lips, igniting a whimper from her, her arms looping fully around his shoulders as she welcomed the intrusion of his hot tongue.
Gods, we were stupid to wait .
He was pressed against her, her back against the door, tongues swiping and exploring almost painfully leisurely. Briefly, she thought she might have lost consciousness with his hardening cock anchored against her lower abdomen, her teeth grazing and nipping at his lip in recompense. Her muddled mind was at odds - part of her desperate to have all of him right here and now, another urging her to be patient and let this unravel deliciously slow. After all, they’d waited this long, what was another small measure of time?
Fingers idly winding into his silky hair, he was the first to break away, their lungs sucking desperately for air. Eyes drifting upward, what she found in his was mesmerizing - a heady tangle of desire, adoration…
There was a distant echo of obnoxious voices somewhere downstairs; Dany distantly thought maybe the rest of them had passed out in various locations of the house with how drunk they were, but it appeared to not be the case.
Jon huffed with a shake of his head, thumb running circles over the small of her back. “I love them, I really do, but right now…”
She couldn’t help it, smiling coyly as she hushed him with a kiss, now that she was allowed to do so. A low groan vibrated from his chest against hers, both of his hands finding her waist and pulling her completely flush against him, his erection even more persistent. She kissed him stupid, allowing her hands to roam his hard and lean body, from his broad shoulders to the mouth-watering biceps that kept drawing her attention the entire day, down the smooth planes of his chest, over his nipples, her fingers running over each swell and rippled of his abdominal muscles.
His did the same, slipping under her sweater and forcing a gasp out of her when roughened skin kissed hers, her back, her waist, up her ribs and making her stomach quiver with anticipation. They cuffed softly at her sides, lifting until they were grazing the edges of her bra. That was when Jon pulled away again, fingers tracing the skin just beneath the cups of the bra, sending a shock of arousal straight to her cunt.
If she could get this riled up with most of their clothes on, she longed to find out what sort of mess she could be dissolved into once they were removed, left bare before one another. Everything touching everywhere.
“Dany,” he panted, “I want you. More than anything, gods, I’ve wanted you for years, but…,” a drop of dread twisted her stomach, but was instantly sobered when he clarified after catching his breath, his lips kiss-bruised and wet, “not when there’s a very good chance we’ll be interrupted. And…,” he lowered his mouth to her ear, beard tickling all the way down, "I want to hear you."
Oh.
She couldn't believe she whimpered out loud, but there it was, out in the open. Laying her forehead against his shoulder, her cheeks were a raging, angry hot inferno. And she was forced to squeeze her thighs together, unable to do much to disguise it as anything else when they were practically sealed together. "Gods, Jon, have you always been this horny?"
Better yet, have I been?
He chuckled against her neck, making her cringe against the tickle of it, his lips brushing the spot. "Only for you."
A stupid grin widened across her face. Well, at least there probably wouldn't be much more shocking revelations now.
Tilting her chin up and leaving enough space to see him properly, she pecked his nose. “I agree with your proposition. If Robb busts in here he might take it as an invitation to have that orgy he apparently has been dreaming about.”
They both snorted together, scowling at the very idea, even if it was only Robb’s drunken proclamation that he thought it was a good idea to do such a thing with the lot of them.
Jon lowered his hands to loop his arms around her, holding her hostage as he peppered her entire face with kisses, making her breathless yet again until he landed on her lips with three tiny presses. She was beaming like a fool, but she could not find it anywhere within herself to care, tucking her face into his neck.
“I’m locking this,” he muttered into her hair, the light click of a door lock informing her that at least they wouldn’t have to worry about any (naked) intruders while they slept. With one easy motion, his arm swept behind her legs so that he was carrying her, cutting the lights as he walked them over to the bed.
When Dany pulled up the sheet to her waist - very obviously Jon’s bed now that she realized it, what with the lack of heavy blankets even despite the season - Jon huddled close, his arm curling over her and holding her to him. There was very little light available, but enough to see little star-like dots reflecting in the eyes looking back at her. Her fingers brushed aside some wayward pieces of his hair, trailing them down over his beard. “I remember when this first started coming in, right before graduation. You were so excited,” she smiled lazily.
Jon grunted. “Think I had to have been the only eighteen-year-old who couldn’t grow a full beard by then."
"Theon Greyjoy would beg to differ."
With a groan at that name, he tossed his other arm over his eyes. "I hated that asshole."
"He was quite poncy."
"Understatement of the year."
Scooting closer, Dany tucked her head under his chin, huddling up to absorb the warmth of his skin. She was bundled up in a fleece sweatshirt and pants and would probably make him sweat, but he'd just have to deal with it. The soft pads of her fingers traced little shapes over his skin, the center between his pecs, smiling at the distinct thud of his heart beneath. "How can you sleep shirtless?"
His lips pressed against her head, speaking there. "I usually sleep in a lot less than this," he husked, making her skin go all tingly again.
She would see soon enough, she supposed, and anyway, she wanted to enjoy all of him with a clear head not fogged by fatigue and post-inebriation. It would also help not having the anticipation of being interrupted when they did reach that point.
"Hm. I'm happy you're here," she murmured, her eyes closed and fighting a losing battle for consciousness. It had to be well after midnight by now, three hours past her typical bed time.
"Me too, Dany," he barely intoned above a whisper, his soft, deep breaths lulling her into a soundless and contented rest.