Chapter Text
Theon really tried to keep his smile as Robb told him how he had asked Jeyne Westerling, a law student a year younger than him, out earlier that day. He should feel happy, even congratulate his best friend for finally getting a date with the “girl of his dreams,” but he simply couldn’t. Not when deep down, he was still in love with him—had been for ten years now. If only…
“…so we’re going to the movies this Saturday,” Robb continued, unable to hide his big smile. “Theon?”
He snapped back to reality just in time to respond. “Uhm.. what was that?”
“I was saying that Jeyne and I are going to the movies on Saturday, to see that new romantic film. She picked it, said it had good reviews,” Robb clarified.
Theon let out a short laugh. Robb hated romantic movies, but of course, he would go see one on a first date if the other person liked it—always the gentleman.
“Just try not to fall asleep in the middle of the movie. You don’t want to disappoint the poor girl on the first date.” teased Theon.
“Excuse me?” Robb put a hand to his chest feigning indignation. "I'll have you know that between us you're the one who is always being dumped after one date" Robb shot back.
“What can I say? It’s not like I want a second date anyway”
Theon Greyjoy didn’t do serious relationships, didn’t fall in love, and above all, didn’t have second dates. Everyone at university knew that. Though that didn’t stop some people from trying to change his mind. Still, the only person he would ever want to change for was currently telling him all about his latest conquest—oh, and he only liked women.
“Well, enough romanticism for today. I can only tolerate one romantic story a week.”
Robb smiled at that, and Theon saw the perfect opportunity to leave and deal with his feelings somewhere else. Somewhere away from Robb and his big smile.
He didn’t know how or why, but desperation had led him to come up with a reckless plan. To pull it off, he had to convince Jon Snow—Robb's half-brother, and his nemesis (of sorts) for as long as he had been in love with Robb.
He entered Jon's room without knocking and locked the door behind him.
“I need a favor,” he blurted out.
Jon lifted his gaze from the book he was reading and raised an eyebrow, confused. “You need a what?”
“A favor. I know you’re slow, Snow, but this is important.”
Jon, irritated by Theon’s usual attitude, set his book aside and got up from his bed. “Get out of my room, Greyjoy.”
Jon was walking toward the door when Theon suddenly said it.
“I want you to give me a hickey on my neck so Robb gets jealous.”
Jon’s brain short-circuited. This had to be an alternate universe he had woken up in. Theon asking him for a favor like that wasn’t possible, not even in his wildest dreams. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Just hear me out first, I have a plan—”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I’ll say it one more time, Greyjoy. Get out of my room.”
“Come on, it’s just a stupid mark. I have no one else to ask. You’re the unlucky one who knows about my ‘situation’ with Robb. All you have to do is put your mouth”—Theon pointed at Jon’s mouth and stepped a little closer—"on my neck and suck for ten seconds. That’s it.”
“No. I won’t do it. Nothing you say will convince me.”
If he wouldn’t agree willingly, Theon would have to push. No one could say no to Theon Greyjoy for long—not even Jon Snow. He let out a mocking laugh.
“Or is it that you’ve never given one before, and that’s why you refuse?”
“Of course I have!” Jon blurted out without thinking, and when he realized it, his face turned red.
“I don’t know why, but I don’t believe you. But let’s say I do—the other reason I can think of is that you’re afraid you’ll like it. Is that it?”
Jon’s face couldn’t have turned any redder if he tried. First, Theon had barged into his room uninvited to ask for a stupid favor, and now he was implying that he liked him. This was unbelievable. He couldn’t let him win.
So he decided—he would do it. Not to do Theon a favor, but to maintain what little dignity and control over the situation he had left.
Without warning, he grabbed Theon by the shoulders, pulled him close, and put his lips on his neck. He sucked with such intensity that he heard a muffled moan escape from Theon. Then he stopped. The mark was quickly turning a deep shade of purple.
For a brief moment, they looked into each other’s eyes without saying a word.
Theon, who had never been a fan of awkward silences, was the first to speak.
“Who would’ve thought? The shy, quiet Jon Snow is such an intense lover.”
“Shut up.”
Theon raised his hands as if to say, “You win,” and turned on his heel to leave Jon’s room.
The next phase of his plan involved “accidentally” wearing a low-cut shirt and tying his hair up the next time he saw Robb. He saw no flaws in his scheme.
Jon couldn’t stop thinking about Theon’s neck—how soft his skin had felt there, how the movement of his tongue had elicited such a reaction. He wondered how it would feel to explore other parts of his body, what other reactions he could draw out… He was going to need another cold shower.
As expected, Theon’s plan didn’t work. Robb did notice the hickey, but he didn’t react the way Theon had hoped.
Jon was present when it happened. He couldn't help feeling uncomfortable during the whole interaction.
Theon had shown up at the Stark house the next day with his hair tied up in a ponytail and wearing a rather revealing shirt—not helping Jon’s current predicament—clearly showing off the hickey on the left side of his neck.
The three of them were in the kitchen when Robb noticed it, only commenting on how possessive Theon’s new “partner” seemed. Jon nearly choked on his coffee.
Theon, in his usual manner, responded while staring directly at Jon, making sure Robb didn’t notice.
“Shy and quiet, but in bed? A total beast.”
Clearly, he was exaggerating to get Robb’s attention. It wasn’t working. Robb just made one or two more comments, and the topic was dropped. Jon felt something akin embarrassment after seeing Theon's disappointed and hurt face.
The next time Jon was alone with Theon was at university. He had stepped out for a cigarette in a quiet corner behind the football field stairs, near the economics faculty. And there he found the man who had occupied his thoughts for the past 48 hours.
He was wearing a black shirt with gold details, his hair was tousled, and he was smoking a blue Lucky Strike. Jon froze.
Theon noticed.
“Snow,” he greeted, exhaling smoke through his lips.
Jon’s heart was pounding too fast. Get a grip. Don’t let him notice . He searched his pockets for his lighter. Shit. He didn’t bring it.
Theon smirked when he realized and, without thinking, stepped closer with his golden lighter. He took Jon’s hand, the one holding the cigarette, and lit it for him.
He was so close Jon could smell his cheap cologne and tobacco. If he just tilted his head slightly to the left, their lips would be touching.
He closed his eyes. His brain reacted slower than his heart, and within a second, the lighter and cigarette were on the ground, and Theon was pinned against the wire fence, being kissed fiercely.
Theon’s first reaction was surprise, but slowly, he gave in. Hands roamed everywhere—faces, hair, lower backs…
Just like everything else in their relationship, kissing was like a battle. And neither seemed keen on losing it. The kiss grew more intense until Theon bit Jon’s lip, drawing a growl from him.
When they finally pulled away, gasping for air, Jon felt guilt consume him. What had he just done?
“You’re a better kisser than I thought, Snow.”
“Shut up.”
Before Theon could reply, Jon was kissing him again. He pulled him closer by the waist, lowering his mouth—kissing his chin, his neck, right where it had all begun.
With one hand on Theon’s waist and the other covering his mouth, Jon sucked and bit the spot, feeling his muffled moans against his palm. They were now so impossibly close that they could feel each other's erections against their own.
Jon dropped to his knees and started tugging at Theon's pants desperately, seeing his hard cock against his trousers above him made his own dick twitch with excitement. With Theon's trousers now gone, Jon began by putting just the tip of Theon's dick on his mouth, teasing. It didn't last long, Jon knew Theon Greyjoy wasn't really known for his patience, and as expected in such a situation he grabbed Jon's hair with his left hand and pushed him toward his growing dick, forcing him to swallow. Jon gagged a little, but soon enough he found rhythm in Theon's thrusts.
They went at it for a while until Jon tasted precome on his mouth and tried to pull back but Theon had other plans. “I want you to swallow me, Snow” Jon complied and kept sucking and sucking until Theon came with a full-body shake. He swallowed Theon whole, he tasted warm in his mouth. After that Theon finally let his hair go and Jon pulled back and slowly standed up next to Theon.
“That was…” started Theon but cut himself.
Earth-shattering, mind-blowing, amazing,...
“Yeah” is all Jon said.
Voices came around the football field and they both froze. “Shit” mumbled Theon. With a swift movement he put his trousers and pants back on and turned to leave as if nothing had happened. As if Jon, the person he hated most in the world, hadn't just sucked him off semi-publicly.
“This never happened” called Jon before Theon left.
Theon turned back, his usual smirk on his face and nodded. “Never”
“And it won't happen again, ever ” Jon tried to sound definitive but it came out more like a plea.
Theon nodded again “Right”. And turned to leave for good this time leaving Jon all alone, his head a mess.