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Jon Snow was unmovable. Always had been.
Sansa Stark watched her older brother’s best friend suck venom from Robb’s snake bite when she was just six and they were eight. He’d always been the dangerous type.
Maybe not dangerous, but certainly had an edge.
They talked sometimes while they both grew up under her parent’s roof. He gave her a couple Pokémon cards once upon a time. But they’d never been all that close. Even when she applied for colleges and got into every single one. She decided on Castle Black where Jon also attended.
It wasn’t because of Jon but she also didn’t go down to the Twins because Robb would’ve watched her every move. Sansa hadn’t known Jon planned on doing the same.
Jon is steady and sure.
Until now.
This is the only time she’s ever seen him...sloppy. His curls are untamed, his smile lopsided, and a lit cigarette pours smoke from where his fingers have a loose grip on it. She’s buzzed herself, but not anywhere near as drunk as he is. He’s teetering a bit as they walk down the dimly lit road towards his place.
There’s a dip in the pavement that almost makes him lose his footing. Sansa reaches out as if she could actually catch him and he laughs in return.
“I’m supposed to be the one doing the rescuing.” Jon swats at her arms and Sansa has to bite back a smart remark. Because he did save her from the jerks at the party and from having to wait for her roommate to finish hooking up before getting a ride home.
“Where’s your white horse?” Sansa quirks an eyebrow and Jon hums in response. Then he pauses with a jolt and clicks his white high top Vans together, “There you go, princess .”
She rolls her eyes in response and stiffens briefly when she feels Jon’s arm sling around her in a familiar way. As if he’s done it hundreds of times. Jon starts mumbling about lighters and cigarettes before tossing his to the side as they come up on a streetlight. It paints the black pavement in a warm glow and Jon hops beneath it in a goofy manner.
He’s got on a pair of light wash Levi’s and a Led Zeppelin tee that both clings to his biceps and hangs loosely on his torso. Sansa stops beside him and chides, “You’re being nuts.”
“Maybe.” Jon starts doing a little twist with his hips before he starts horribly singing Jackson.
“ I’m going to Jackson, I’m going to mess around.” Jon boogies and belts like a child , “Yeah I’m going to Jackson, lookout Jacksontown.”
“Well go on down to Jackson, go ahead and wreck your health. Go play your hand you big-talkin' man, make a big fool of yourself!” Sansa sings back and Jon responds by twirling her beneath the spotlight. Together they laugh and laugh. Not something she’s ever heard so easily.
She pauses and they’re close, his hand on her arm, face only an inch away. Jon licks his lips and whispers, “Let’s get back.”
Sansa moves her arm so that her hand is in his, and he doesn’t let go. It’s silent the rest of the walk home but she doesn’t feel weird. Her hand feels safe in his and she doesn’t miss the way he keeps side eyeing her. They’re back at his apartment since it’s closer than her dorm.
He has two roommates who aren’t there. One is at a girlfriend’s and the other went home for the weekend. Leaving Sansa and Jon all alone. It makes her heart race to watch him pop waffles in his toaster and make them each a glass of water. He chugs his before slamming some BC powder and grabbing a bottle of Pedialyte.
He’s really drunk.
Sansa feels some magic evaporate at the final realization, until Jon has both his waffles and is ushering her to his bedroom. “You want pajamas?”
She’s in a tight black dress and white heeled boots, so yes, she’d like some clothes. Jon doesn’t let her answer before tossing a clean smelling tshirt her way. Since she’s not familiar with his place at all and he’s drunk and has already seen her in a bikini many times, she just changes right there and then.
“Jesus!” Jon coughs and covers his eyes.
Sansa fights against the grin of satisfaction crawling across her face and bends down to take her boots off. Jon sighs heavily and throws a sweatshirt her way. Much longer, much more oversized, and will definitely cover her bottom. She pulls it on and falls to his mattress and Jon adjusts to sitting towards the edge of the opposite side.
“You, uh, sleep here. I’ll crash on the couch and drive you back in the morning.” Jon mumbles and rises to his feet.
“No!” Sansa snaps much more forcefully than she intended. It causes them both to flinch and then Jon is sighing and rubbing his eyes. “It’s your bed. I could sleep on the couch or, erm, the floor or whatever.”
Jon scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the princess, remember?”
He seems annoyed and it makes her shrink and panic. Sansa tries to muster the courage for a quick witted joke or an excuse to leave but she’s too busy staring at his silhouette strip in the darkness. He kicks off his white shoes, jeans, and shirt for a pair of plaid pj pants.
No shirt.
Jon crawls up next to her and collapses on his pillow with a relieved sigh. Sansa freezes up and he’s rustling under the covers, impatiently tugging at the bit stuck under her, “Get under the damn covers.”
Sansa gasps at his language but quickly obliges. Her leg is inches from his and she feels his warmth like never before. Sansa’s heavy eyelids close and she plays back him dancing under the streetlight and singing. She can’t help but smile.
“What?” Jon pokes into the silence.
“What?” She asks back, confused why he’s asking her anything.
Jon moves a bit and she realizes he’s rolled over to look at her. “What are you smiling about?”
Sansa mimics his move and rolls over to face him as well. “You. Your singing.”
“Don’t tell anybody or I’ll have to kill you.” Jon mumbles and Sansa giggles . She’s not done that in years and it heats her cheeks and makes her bring the covers up to her chin.
“I promise.” Sansa wrinkles her nose when Jon’s eyes flutter closed. She’s not ready to sleep. This moment will disappear and Jon will return to being a background character in her life. She’s not ready to give him up.
So she kicks his shin.
Jon frowns, “Quit it, jerk.”
“Tell me a secret.” Sansa begs and Jon sighs.
“You’re the prettiest girl at every party.”
Silence falls between them as she allows his words to sink in. Nobody’s ever said that to her before. She’s the nag, the mom friend, the third wheel. Jon’s eyes fly open, “I drank too much.”
“Thank you.” She whispers in response, her heart racing at the sight of his soft face.
Jon looks like he’s rolling his eyes, “You already knew that. It wasn’t even a secret.”
“It was a secret that you thought it.” Sansa throws back.
“Think that. Currently.” Jon corrects and Sansa scoots close to him until she can push him over to laying on his back. He obliges easily and she rests her chin on his shoulder and rolls her face so it’s in the nook of his neck. Goosebumps flush his skin and Sansa smiles into his neck.
“Tell me a secret.” He whispers, his breath smells like fruit punch Pedialyte and his bare skin like man and pine.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Jon does.
Jon grabs her face in an instant and grants her a long, sweet kiss, before placing her back into his nook. “I want to do that when I’m sober.”
“Okay.” Sansa shrugs and snuggles closer.
Jon freezes, “Really?”
“I’d let you kiss me anytime you want.” Sansa whispers into his skin and she feels Jon’s face break into a smile.
“Promise?”
Sansa plants a kiss on his shoulder, “Promise.”