Archive of Our Own

1. 5:41 P.M. Wednesday, December 25, 2002 (Age 6)

Theon flinched as his dad’s open palm struck him across the cheek, leaving a stinging red mark behind. He squeezed his eyes shut as he willed the tears not to come; they did anyway, spilling from his closed eyelids and trailing down his cheeks like water overflowing from a cup.   

“Idiot boy!” his dad screamed in his ear. “Look what you’ve done!”

Theon forced his eyes open and stared at the mess of chicken and gravy smeared on the kitchen floor. It hadn’t been his fault, really. Sure, he’d been carrying the platter to the table, but Rodrik was the one who’d pushed him straight into Maron’s outstretched leg. It was their fault that he’d tripped and smashed the plate into a thousand ceramic shards on the kitchen tiles.

He chanced a look in his mother’s direction. Alannys’ face had gone pale and she had half-risen from her chair to help him, but at Theon’s desperate expression she sat back down, looking conflicted. The one time she’d tried to intervene (when Theon had accidentally broken the TV remote), Balon had roared that Theon was his son to discipline and that no son of his would be raised as a pitiful weakling. His mother hadn’t dared step in again.

Balon grabbed his cheek, hard enough to hurt, and thrust his face close to Theon’s. His dark grey eyes were filled with an unchecked fury that never failed to scare Theon out of his wits. “I don’t want to see your face again today, understand?”

Theon whimpered and nodded frantically. His dad snorted in disgust before releasing him. He quickly scurried out of the kitchen, glancing once over his shoulder in fear of another blow, and locked eyes with his sister. Asha was looking at him in pity, but it only served to make Theon feel even more ashamed.   

Tearing his eyes away from her and the rest of his family, he hurried up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door closed behind him. Without wasting a second, he threw himself onto his bed and curled into a fetal position, pressing his face into his pillow to muffle the choked sobs coming from his mouth.

For Theon, the worst thing about the whole situation was that it was Christmas Day. Christmases had never been that special to the Greyjoys; they’d never decorated Christmas trees or exchanged presents the way Theon’s classmates had described their families doing. His dad disdained those traditions as stupid. But the previous Greyjoy Christmases had at least been peaceful, if not cheerful.

Until Rodrik and Maron ruined everything, he thought bitterly. Like they always do.

He eventually sat up and wiped away the lingering tears on his face before crossing to the other side of his bedroom. Picking up his backpack, he unzipped it and flipped it upside down, figuring that he might as well finish the math problems his teacher had assigned over the Christmas break even though he was sure his classmates would be scrambling to finish them the day before going back to school. He’d learned years ago that moping over his rotten family (apart from Mother and Asha) just made him more depressed.

The contents spilled onto the carpeted floor. Theon tossed his backpack aside and carelessly examined the small pile: his pencil case, an arithmetic sheet, a battered library book, a thick white envelope –

Theon stilled and gawked at the envelope. He didn’t remember putting that in his backpack – he didn’t even remember ever seeing it. He cautiously bent over and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. His name, Theon, was written in bold grey letters across the middle.

Theon took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope, hoping no one in his family heard the sound of tearing paper over their eating of the remnants of Christmas dinner. He stuck a hand inside the envelope and withdrew first a bright green Christmas card, then a chocolate Mars Bar.

After staring at the Mars Bar for a good five minutes, Theon opened the Christmas card and read the inscription:

Hi Theon!

I know we only met a few months ago on the first day of school, but you’re my best friend and I think you’re awesome. I hope you like the present I got you – I wasn’t sure what kind of chocolate you like.

Merry Christmas!

x Robb

Theon’s mouth dropped open in shock, and he had to re-read the entire card to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating the words.   

He knew the card was from Robb Stark, the friendly redhead who was the only first-grader who bothered talking to him. From the first day of school, when Robb had noticed Theon sitting by himself during lunch, he’d planted himself at his side and stuck to him like glue during recess. Theon had been baffled by the notion that anyone would willingly want to play with him, but Robb’s childish grin and eager eyes could only have been described as sincere.   

Robb may have been Theon’s only friend, but Theon knew the redhead got along with everyone in their Grade 1 class. If he’d had the option, Theon wouldn’t have picked himself as his best friend – yet apparently Robb had.

Theon was still stunned, but a tiny smile wormed its way onto his face. After he set aside the card, he picked up the Mars bar and hastily unwrapped it to reveal the delicious looking chocolate. He briefly considered eating it slowly, but shrugged and stuffed the entire bar of chocolate into his mouth. It tasted infinitely sweeter than any chocolate he’d ever had, and he didn’t care that it was probably because Robb had gifted it to him.    

Once he’d swallowed it all, he eyed his math homework for three seconds before deciding that he could finish it later – after all, there was still another week before the Christmas break ended. He packed all of his school things back into his bag except for the library book, which he clutched to his chest. Theon retreated back to his bed, flicked on his bedside lamp, and opened the book to the first page.  

Later that night, after Theon had finished reading the book, brushing his teeth, and changing into his pajamas, he carefully tucked Robb’s Christmas card beneath his pillow before nestling under the blankets and closing his eyes.

---

On the first day back after the Christmas break, Theon hovered outside the school door, waiting for Robb to come outside for recess. He hadn’t had the chance to talk to Robb yet because he sat on the other side of the classroom, thanks to their teacher’s stupid idea to seat the class alphabetically by their surnames.

Finally, the door swung open and Robb stepped outside, wearing a new bluish grey ski jacket. Theon nervously approached him, suddenly feeling horribly inadequate in Maron’s shabby hand-me-down coat that did practically nothing to keep out the cold. Even though it wasn’t snowing, the temperature was well below freezing and Theon was shivering violently.

“Robb?” he called out timidly.

Robb’s head whipped around. When he caught sight of Theon, he beamed. “Hi Theon! Did you get my Christmas present?”

“Yeah,” said Theon. “But – well. You didn’t have to get me anything. 

Robb shrugged. “I didn’t do it because I had to.”

A light dusting of pink covered Theon’s cheeks, but he blamed it on the cold. “Oh. Well then, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Robb, sincere as always.  

Suddenly struck by inspiration, Theon smirked. “And by the way…Mars bars are my favourite.”

Robb gave him a huge grin. “Really?”

“They are now,” Theon told him.

Robb’s eyes widened in surprise, and he lunged forward to pull Theon into a hug. Before Theon could hug back (not that he could, since Robb was pinning his arms to his sides) Robb had pulled away to look at him – fondly?

“I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever told me,” he said honestly.  

Theon was speechless. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had hugged him. He supposed it must have been his mother, but if that was the case he’d been too young to remember it. Robb’s hug filled him with a warm feeling that he wanted to bask in forever, and he discovered that he was no longer shivering.

“Did you mean it?” Theon questioned. “That I’m your best friend?”

“Of course I did!” replied Robb brightly. “We’re best friends, now and always!”

“Now and always,” Theon echoed happily, smiling back at Robb.

---

2. 7:36 A.M. Thursday, December 25, 2008 (Age 12)

Theon reclined against the Starks’ plush couch, watching Robb in amusement as his best friend carefully unwrapped the Christmas present before him with the precision of a diamond cutter. He let out a snort, and Robb shot him a puzzled look.

“I should have known you were one of those people,” Theon remarked. “One who would faint if even a tiny piece of the wrapping paper ripped.”

“It’s a nice wrapping paper,” said Robb defensively. “I’d feel bad if I ripped it.”

“Your parents used the same wrapping paper for all of their presents, and your siblings had no problem tearing it to pieces,” said Theon, gesturing at the piles of tattered wrapping paper littering the floor. He picked up one of the scraps and examined it. “I had no problem tearing it to pieces, either.”

He was still amazed that Robb’s parents had even given him a present, but they’d been so perfectly nice about it that Theon hadn’t even had time to process the gift passed into his hands before “Santa Claus” (actually Ned Stark dressed in the red suit and matching hat) had moved onto Bran and Rickon.  

Theon waved the wrapping paper scrap that he’d picked up in front of Robb’s face. “I’m sure Rudolph wouldn’t care if you ripped his face in half.”  

“Then I’ll care on his behalf,” Robb huffed lightly.   

Theon rolled his eyes as Robb continued opening presents at the speed of a turtle. All the other Starks around him had finished unwrapping their own presents: Bran was playing with his new Lego set with Ned, Sansa and Arya were arguing about a doll Sansa had gotten, Jon was testing out the DS game he’d just opened, and Catelyn was watching everything unfold with a loving smile while bouncing baby Rickon on her lap.

It was all vastly different from Theon’s usual Christmases. The Greyjoy family were not woken at seven in the morning by Bran and Arya clanging cowbells outside their rooms, nor did they gather around a brightly lit Christmas tree surrounded by presents; Theon considered it a miracle if his father even bothered leaving the bedroom before dinner for a reason other than fetching more whiskey. So when Robb had invited him to sleep over from Christmas Eve onwards, he’d accepted right away. His dad had shouted at him for a while about staying with the Starks, but soon enough he’d just stopped caring – which was pretty much his reaction to everything Theon did.   

His mother and Asha had given him his presents in advance to open at the Starks’ house. Theon had woken up earlier than any of the Starks and decided to open them before anyone else woke up. He’d unwrapped a new book and Asha’s old pocketknife, and placed them both inside the bag he’d brought with him. Robb would usually give him his gift on the last day of school before the break, but since he knew Theon would be with him on Christmas Day, he’d insisted on waiting for the 25^th.

A loud whooping noise startled Theon out of his reverie. Robb had finally finished unwrapping his present and was now regarding his newly opened telescope with pure delight. He moved the box off his lap and threw himself at his parents, embracing them tightly. “Thank you!”

Ned and Catelyn hugged him back, smiling fondly. Sansa, who had given up on arguing with Arya, squatted beside the Christmas tree and peered underneath it.

“There’s still one present left,” she reported.

“There is?” asked Catelyn in surprise, her eyes scanning the room as if mentally calculating the total number of opened presents.

Sansa pulled a bright red gift bag out from underneath the tree and checked the tag. “It’s for Robb.”  

Robb blinked. “Me?”

“It’s from me, dimwit,” sighed Theon, feeling his cheeks flame red from embarrassment.

Robb stared at him, and Theon fervently hoped Robb wouldn’t ask him how he was suddenly able to afford a Christmas present other than the usual card he made for Robb each year. To his relief, Robb just grinned and took the bag from Sansa’s outstretched hand.

“I’m so glad I didn’t wrap the damn thing,” Theon muttered as Robb tossed the matching red tissue paper aside. “Otherwise we’d be sitting here until your birthday.”

“Oh, shut up,” Robb laughed, but his laughter stopped abruptly as he extracted Theon’s present from the gift bag.

Theon found himself shifting uncomfortably as Robb gazed at the small chess set, complete with ebony and crystal game pieces. He had bought it a few weeks ago with the money he’d won from Loras in a bet (on whether Theon could climb to the top of an oak tree and back down without being spotted by a teacher). Robb had insisted that Theon buy himself something nice with the money, which Theon had decided to ignore, purchasing a present for Robb instead. He’d always felt bad about Robb giving him a gift every year when Theon just made a stupid card from a folded-over piece of paper, and while he knew Robb didn’t mind, Theon wanted to give his best friend something nice for once.

“Theon,” Robb began, “if this is because you accidentally broke my old chess set –”

“Partially,” Theon cut in. He was still mortified about accidentally sitting on those pieces. “But I also saw you eyeing this the last time we went to the toy store, and I thought you’d like it.”

Robb was silent for the next few seconds, during which Theon inwardly panicked and thought Robb had changed his mind about liking that particular chess set – but his thought process grounded to a halt when Robb flung his arms around him.

“Thanks. It – this really means a lot,” Robb murmured into Theon’s shoulder.

Theon’s lips twitched into a smile, and he awkwardly patted Robb on the back. “Um, you’re welcome,” he answered, feeling inordinately pleased by Robb’s appreciation.

Robb pulled away, leaving an unexpected chill around Theon’s torso, and stood up. “We can go get your Christmas present now,” he said, with a strange twinkle in his eye.

Theon frowned. “What? Where is it?”

“Outside.”

“Outside?!” Theon balked. “It’s freezing outside!”

“It’s not that bad. Look, it’s even sunny!” said Robb brightly, pointing at the sunlight streaming in through the large windows. “We can go out, right Mom?”

“As long as you two wear your winter clothes,” said Catelyn. “And come back in time for lunch.”  

Theon was still wondering why his present would be outside when Robb smirked and said, “If you don’t want it, I can always keep it for myself.”   

Theon rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m coming!”

Robb just laughed as the two of them shrugged on their winter attire and dashed out the front door. The cold breeze swept over them, making Theon shiver, but Robb seized Theon’s gloved hand and the simple gesture warmed his entire body.  

His best friend led him to the backyard, dragging Theon behind him like he was a puppy. The snow in the back had accumulated over the past few weeks of heavy snowstorms, forcing both boys to clomp through the drifts in their boots. Robb unlatched the iron gate and Theon followed him through it, all the way to the backyard.   

“Robb, where are you…”

The words died in Theon’s throat when he beheld the massive snow fort in front of him.

Over four feet tall, the main part of the fort was built like a large wall that sloped on both sides, but the most impressive part was the towering section in the middle that had been carefully sculpted to resemble a bricked castle turret. To top it all off, several triangular red flags were displayed proudly at the top of the turret.

Theon’s jaw dropped. “You made this for me?”  

Robb’s cheeks turned pink. “Well, Jon helped with the castle tower, but otherwise, um, yes?”

Theon was at a loss for words. He’d built snow forts before, and considering that Robb liked to take his time, one of this size and detail must have taken him and Jon hours.

“It’s not your whole present though, I made you something else!” said Robb excitedly, motioning towards the snow fort with his chin. “Go look inside.”

Theon trekked over to the other side of the snow fort and inspected the inside. A shallow hole had been dug close to the wall, and inside it was a long, thin Christmas present wrapped in purple paper. A thin layer of snow covered the present’s surface like icing on a cake.

Robb leaned against the wall, resting his hands and chin on the top and somehow not crumbling the fort. Theon grinned and picked up the present, ripping the wrapping paper and letting it fall to the ground in shreds.

At first, he wasn’t sure what it was. It looked like two black poles glued together in the shape of a Y, with the slightly curved pole hollowed out in a semicircle. Included with the bizarre object was a small waste basket filled with more detachable poles, and a trigger attached to a small backpack. Theon frowned and looked inside the backpack, finding – a power source?

Then Theon recognized it, and he was even more stunned than when he’d seen the snow fort. His dark eyes widened and he lifted his gaze to meet Robb’s.  

“You built me a snowball machine gun?!” he gasped, his voice pitching higher than he’d like to admit.

Robb’s face went from pink to red. “Yes,” he said shyly. “Dad helped me with some of the trickier parts, but that tutorial video you showed me was pretty clear so it wasn’t too hard to understand.”

“Seven hells,” Theon murmured. He had found a video on how to make a snowball machine gun back in early November and showed it to Robb because it had looked really interesting, but he’d known Balon would have sooner invited the Starks over for a tea party than let him construct it.

As if he’d read his mind, Robb stated, “Dad said you can leave it in our garage if you don’t think your dad will approve of it.”  

“Wow – Robb, thank you,” Theon breathed. “This is so cool!”

Robb beamed, but then his eyes shifted from Theon and focused on something over his shoulder. Before Theon could turn around and look, he felt something hard and cold hit him in the back of his neck, sending his head snapping forward.  

He wiped the snow off his jacket collar and he spun around. Jon, Sansa, and Arya were scrambling out the patio door, fully dressed in their winter gear. Jon swiftly launched another snowball at Theon, who yelped and ducked underneath it.

“What the hell, Snow?” he screeched. 

“You’ve got a snow fort and a snowball machine gun, Greyjoy!” Jon fired back, throwing another snowball. “If anyone here has the advantage, you do!”

Theon took the hint and rushed to join Robb on the other side of the snow fort. Both he and Robb quickly formed several snowballs and shoved them into the hollowed pole of the gun as Jon’s snowballs continued to pepper the fort. Once the machine gun was full, Theon swung the backpack over his shoulders.

Robb peeked over the edge of the wall. “Sansa and Arya are making their own snow fort,” he reported.  

Theon smirked. “Well, we can’t let that happen now, can we?”

He took a deep breath and stood up, taking only a second to aim at Jon and depress the gun’s plunger. Jon grunted as multiple snowballs pelted him in the chest at a dizzying speed, splattering the front of his jacket with white. Theon laughed maniacally as he moved the gun’s aim from Jon to the snow fort Sansa and Arya were building, obliterating their work in a matter of seconds. His efforts used up all of the snowballs, but Theon figured it was worth seeing the annoyed looks on the Starks’ faces (with the exception of Robb, who was grinning so hard it must have hurt).  

Arya stomped down on the snow-covered ground as if she was trying to single-handedly cause an earthquake. “That’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair,” said Theon with a shrug as he began re-loading the machine gun. 

Arya frowned in thought until her face suddenly brightened. “I know! Let’s do Starks versus Greyjoys!”

Theon raised an eyebrow. “I’m the only Greyjoy here.”

“Exactly!” she replied with a devilish smile, darting forward and hauling Robb to the other side of the backyard before either of them could react.  

“Hey, wait a minute!” protested Theon. “You can’t just kidnap my only team member!”

“It is fairer this way,” Jon said contemplatively. “Your snowball machine gun is worth at least four people, so it makes sense if Robb is on our side.”

Theon wanted to make some snide comment about how Jon shouldn’t be on the Stark team either, but he held his tongue – Robb tended to get rather upset whenever his teasing of Jon went too far. Instead, he ignored him and called out, “Robb, you’re not really ditching me and the amazing Christmas gifts you gave me, are you?”

“Sorry, Theon,” said Robb apologetically, indicating Arya’s firm hold on his wrist.

Theon didn’t believe for one second that Robb was actually trapped – Arya was six, for god’s sake – and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “If you’re all that scared of my new gun, go ahead and team up against me! You’re still going to lose!”

“Oh,” said Sansa suddenly. “I think we’re getting another member on Team Stark.”

Everyone turned their heads to the open patio door, where Bran was stumbling through the snow towards them. Sansa hurried over to close the door and carry him to their ruined snow fort, and Theon groaned. Now it was five Starks against one Greyjoy.

“Sorry!” Robb repeated in a contrite tone.

“Traitor,” Theon muttered with no real heat behind the word. He straightened, preparing himself like a soldier before a war, before retreating behind his snow fort to finish replenishing his stock of snowballs.

Once he was done loading his machine gun, he burrowed a medium-sized hole near the bottom of the snow fort, hoping to catch the Starks off guard. Peering through it, he noticed Robb, Sansa, Arya, and Bran were almost done building another snow fort (even if it was a lot smaller than his) and that Jon was – looking right at him.

Theon withdrew his head just in time to avoid the snowball Jon lobbed at his face. He shot up and used his machine gun to direct numerous snowball at Jon’s head, yelling, “Are you really throwing snowballs at me because I have a gun and a bigger fort, or because you just wanted an excuse to throw something at my face?”

Jon threw himself to the side to dodge Theon’s latest round of snowball ammunition and made another snowball, calling out “Both!” as he launched it at him. To Theon’s (and probably Jon’s) amazement, the snowball lodged itself in the gun’s muzzle, and the engine whirred pathetically before dying. 

“Wha –” Theon pushed the plunger repeatedly, trying to restart the gun, but Jon’s snowball was preventing it from working. He let out a frustrated groan and hunkered down behind the safety of his snow fort. 

As he hurriedly cleared out the snow blocking the muzzle, his snow fort’s castle turret suddenly became the target of twin snowballs, sending it crashing to the ground in a heap of snow. Theon gaped at the unexpected destruction and shouted, “Who did that?” 

Arya and Bran’s shrieks of delight gave him the answer.

“When the Starks told me you were in the backyard, I did not expect to find you cowering behind a wall of snow.”  

Theon’s head shot up at the sound of Asha’s voice. His older sister was standing a few feet away from him, staring at the scene before her with a nonplussed expression.

“Asha?” asked Theon, dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?"

“Father sent me to bring you back home,” she answered. “Uncle Euron suddenly announced that he’s inviting all the Greyjoys over for dinner on the 27^th and since the drive to his house takes a day and a half, we’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning.”

Theon made a face. He didn’t like any of his uncles on his father’s side, but his cunning, cold-blooded Uncle Euron was possibly his least favourite. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” said Asha shortly. “Go pack your stuff.”

Another snowball was hurled at his snow fort, passing over Theon’s head and landing in front of Asha. Theon’s eyes locked onto it, and an idea flashed in his mind.

“You’re a Greyjoy,” he said suddenly.

“I’ve been your sister for twelve years,” said Asha in disdain. “If you only noticed that now, there’s something wrong –”

“No, I mean – this snowball fight we’re having is Starks against Greyjoys, so they’re ganging up on me,” Theon explained wildly. “But you can join my side!”

Asha’s lips parted. “What,” she said flatly.

“Help me defeat the Starks in a snowball fight,” he implored.

His sister stared at him for a few seconds, making Theon squirm under her gaze, until her mouth curved up in a smirk. “We can’t stay for long,” she warned, moving to crouch down beside him. “But I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to sink a snowball into Robb Stark and Jon Snow’s pretty little faces.”

“Pretty?”

Both Theon and Asha looked up as Robb climbed over the ruined snow turret and squatted beside them, a curious smile on his face.   

“Robb?” Theon hissed in confusion. “Why are you on this side – again?”   

“I worked hard on that tower, but Arya and Bran didn’t listen to me when I told them not to destroy it,” huffed Robb. “Besides, even with Asha on your team, you’re still outnumbered.”

A smirk bloomed on Theon’s face. “Double-crossing your own family, eh? All right, Stark – today you can be an honorary Greyjoy.”

Asha sighed as she rolled a particularly large snowball in her hands. “I suppose Jon Snow’s face will have to do,” she said, standing up and hurling it with all her strength. Judging by Jon’s cry of shock, Theon guessed she’d hit her intended target.

Robb looked over at the snowball machine gun in concern. “Did you fix it?”

“Uh, I think so.” Theon tested the plunger again, and a snowball went careening into the fence. “Yep.”

“Then let’s avenge your snow fort,” joked Robb, holding out a hand to help him up.

Theon took it and examined his best friend. Robb looked rather lovely, he thought inconsequentially, with snow dusting his tousled red hair, cheeks ruddy from the cold, and blue eyes bright with joy. Theon’s insides grew hot despite the cold air surrounding them and he wished he had a camera to capture that exact point in time, where Robb was laughing and happy and beautiful.    

A snowball sailed through the air and struck Theon on the side of his neck, jarring him out of his thoughts. He yelped as the cold snow started melting and dripping down his shirt, and glared at the person who threw the snowball – surprisingly, it was a giggling Sansa.   

Robb emitted a short laugh as Theon activated the machine gun, ejecting numerous snowballs at high velocity towards Sansa. Jon was desperately trying to fend off Asha, who was like a human snowball machine gun and throwing snowballs mercilessly at him. At the sight of Robb on the enemy’s side, Arya and Bran started flinging snowballs at their older brother, who laughed and launched his own back at them.

At one point, Theon’s eyes met Robb’s, and the two shared a quick, private smile. Theon still wished he could have captured that moment in a photograph, but he decided that just having fun with Robb was more than good enough.

---

3. 2:37 P.M. Tuesday, December 25, 2012 (Age 16)

“Theon Greyjoy? You have a visitor.”

Theon rolled over until his back was flush against the hospital bed, lifting his gaze from the winter landscape outside his sixth-story window to the nurse at the door. She was tall, over six feet, with short blonde hair in a pixie cut and bright eyes almost as blue as Robb’s. A name tag reading Brienne was pinned to her immaculate nursing uniform.   

“Who?” he asked, even though he knew the answer already. In the past three days that he’d been in the hospital, only two people had come by to visit him, and he knew it couldn’t be Asha because she’d left town the day before.

“It’s Robb Stark.”

Theon nodded, trying not to look like he’d expected that answer. “Okay. He can come in.”

Brienne smiled, showing crooked teeth, before sweeping out of the room. Theon slowly stretched, causing the hospital gown he was wearing to crinkle loudly as his body shifted underneath the thin bed sheets. Every pain-filled muscle in his body protested the movement, making him wince. The only thing he was grateful for was the hospital’s heating – it was a lot better than his own home’s, and if the ten feet of snow outside was any indication, his house was probably stone cold. He reached up to cross his hands behind his head in an attempt to look relaxed, and waited.

A minute later, Robb strode inside and looked at him worriedly as he removed his winter coat and hung it on the wall hook. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked, shaking the snowflakes out of his hair. Theon was reminded of his old girlfriend Ros, who had often done the same action in the winter to her long red locks. Not for the first time, he was struck by the similarities between her and Robb’s physical appearance, but refused to dwell on the implications. 

“I’m fine,” Theon replied with a shrug.

Robb shot him a look that told Theon he was full of shit. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t still be in the hospital." 

“I asked my doctor if I could leave yet, but she said no,” Theon complained.

“Then there must be a reason she said no,” Robb countered. “And that reason is that you’re not fine.”  

Theon sighed. He’d learned a long time ago that arguing with Robb when he put his mind to something was pointless, and the only way to dissuade him from further queries was to change the subject.  

“Why are you here today, anyway?” asked Theon. 

Robb frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve visited you every day since you were admitted here.”  

“Yeah, but today is Christmas Day,” Theon pointed out. “Shouldn’t you be spending it with your family?”

“I spent the morning with my family. Besides, if I didn’t come, how was I going to give you this?” said Robb, digging a hand into his pocket and withdrawing a small rectangular box wrapped in gold paper. 

“Oh, right,” said Theon. He blinked. “Shit, did you get mine?" 

“Yes, don’t worry. Sansa found it buried underneath Rickon’s pile of gifts. Thanks for that, by the way. I’ve been wanting to read The Hunger Games for a while.”

“No, really?” said Theon sarcastically. “I thought you not-so-subtly dropped hints about that fucking book trilogy for no reason.”

Robb rolled his eyes, but he was obviously fighting back a grin. “If you’re back to sarcasm and swearing, maybe you should be discharged from the hospital. I feel sorry for the nurses.”

Theon pounced on his words. “I know, right? Can you go talk to them and see if they’ll let me go?”

Robb’s tentative grin disappeared. “No! Theon, I was joking.”   

“But –”

“But what? You’re still far from healed. Need I remind you what injuries Ramsay inflicted on you?”

“They’re not that bad,” Theon protested.

Robb stared at him incredulously. “You’ve got a black eye, four cracked ribs, three broken fingers, of which one is permanently damaged, and your back is covered in whip marks,” he listed off. “And that’s not bad?”

Theon reflexively crooked his left ring finger. Or rather, he tried to – he could no longer feel anything from that finger and even if it hadn’t been wrapped in a thick bandage, it wouldn’t have moved. The nerves that used to connect him with that finger felt empty, as if they’d just vanished instead of having been painfully severed with a knife.

“All of them will take time to heal,” Theon said, shoving aside the memory of Ramsay meticulously slicing his finger open. “I don’t need to stay in the hospital to recover.”

Robb crossed his arms stubbornly. “Too bad. You’re staying in the hospital.”

Theon flipped him the finger.

“Well, if you’re going to act that way, I guess you don’t want this pack of sardines then,” Robb quipped, holding out the golden-wrapped present.

“Is it actually sardines?” blurted Theon.

“Wha – of course not!” said Robb, sounding offended that the thought even crossed Theon’s mind. “Who do you think I am, Balon Greyjoy?”

Actually, if my dad gave me sardines for Christmas, it’d be the nicest gift from him in years, mused Theon, but he didn’t say that aloud. He just extended his arm as far as he could and swiped at the present.

Robb moved the box just out of reach.    

If Theon had been anywhere but injured in a hospital bed, he would have tackled his best friend. As it was, he could only send Robb a threatening look, which wasn’t half as effective. Robb just laughed and tossed the present towards him. “Merry Christmas.”

“Not sure about the ‘merry’ part, considering I’m stuck in a fucking hospital,” muttered Theon as he caught it with his good hand. Whenever Robb or Asha weren’t there with him, he was bored to death and definitely not merry. 

A few fruitless maneuvers later, he discovered that unwrapping a Christmas present with only one hand was a lot harder than he’d expected. After the wrapping paper failed to tear on his fifth try, Robb sat on the chair beside the bed and held out his hand.  

“Give it to me, I’ll –”

“No, I’ve got it,” insisted Theon.

Robb arched an eyebrow. “You once complained that I opened presents at the speed of a turtle, but right now you’re opening one present at the speed of dirt.”  

Theon exhaled a long puff of air, shoved aside his hurt pride, and handed over the present. Robb smiled graciously as he carefully slit the length of the wrapping paper, leaving it in place so that Theon couldn’t see what it was yet.

Once Robb was satisfied with his work, he dropped it back in Theon’s lap. Theon rolled his eyes and unceremoniously cast the paper aside, but when his eyes focused on the plastic case enough to read the label, his eyes widened.

Robb fidgeted, anxiety momentarily flashing across his face. When Theon remained silent he blurted, “Do you like it? I wasn’t sure whether you wanted a new one since I know your mother gave you your mp3 player and it must have sentimental value –”

“Robb, this is the 5^th generation iPod Touch,” said Theon blankly, interrupting Robb’s rambling. “It came out two months ago and sold out. How the fuck did you find one?”

“Well, you may have noticed I wasn’t in school the day it came out?”

Theon stared at him in disbelief. “You skipped school to line up and get me an iPod for Christmas. Back in October.”

“Yep,” said Robb, grinning broadly even though Theon was downright certain that was Robb’s first time skipping school. 

Theon glanced back down at the iPod package and hefted it in his right hand. He lifted the lid, noting how easily it popped up. “Why is it already open?”

“I figured that since you’ve been complaining of boredom ever since you regained consciousness, you might appreciate some music. I called Asha and she emailed me a copy of your music library, so I already downloaded all of your favourite songs onto it.”  

Theon wasn’t even aware that Asha knew his passcode, but he was more preoccupied with Robb’s actions. He honestly appreciated the gesture because being stuck in the hospital really was very tedious, but if Robb saw all of his songs –

“Speaking of your favourite songs,” added Robb with a smirk, “for someone who mentioned often and loudly how much they hated cheesy love songs, there were a surprising number of them on your playlist.”

Shit.

“It’s not what – oh, shut up,” said Theon, blushing fiercely as Robb started laughing. He glared at him and added in a dangerous voice. “You are not going to tell anyone. Not Snow, not Sansa, not anyone.”

“Of course not,” said Robb sincerely, although it was hard for Theon to tell considering his best friend was still giggling like a schoolgirl. “Your ‘cool’ reputation won’t be ruined by me.”

Torn between embarrassment and exasperation, Theon picked up the iPod and used it to hide his reddening face. After pressing the power button, he eyed the lit screen and questioned, “You already set the passcode?”

“Yeah, it’s 7622 – Asha told me that was the one on your mp3 player,” replied Robb. “Is there something significant about those numbers?”

Theon coughed as he typed the code in. “No.” He certainly wasn’t going to tell him that his passcode stood for Robb. 

The iPod unlocked and he tapped on the iTunes icon. As he scrolled through the songs Robb had downloaded for him, he said, “To answer your earlier question, the mp3 player my mother gave me is old as fuck – it’s from my tenth birthday. Seriously, the battery dies in like ten minutes. I was planning to throw it out soon anyway, so – well, thanks.” From past Christmases, he knew bringing up the subject of cost was useless with Robb.

“Oh.” Robb smiled. “In that case, you’re very welcome.”

Theon burned at seeing Robb’s bright smile, and his mouth quirked up in a small, pleased smirk as he grabbed the earbuds from the plastic case and offered one to Robb.

Robb reached out to take it, and his fingers briefly brushed against Theon’s. Theon stiffened, his gaze flicking up to his best friend’s face, but Robb didn’t notice and merely placed the earbud in his ear.

Theon ignored his racing heart, exhaling quietly. Every time he almost let slip I think I’m in love with you, he’d remember that Robb was straight, that he had a girlfriend (and Theon couldn’t even hate Jeyne Westerling, she was the nicest person on the planet after Robb), that he was the most important person in the world to him and he couldn’t fuck that up.

So he kept his mouth shut, choosing to focus on Robb’s hand rather than look him in the eye.

Then he stiffened again – but for an entirely different reason.  

“Robb, why is there blood on your knuckles?” Theon asked delicately.

Robb froze, glancing down at his own hand. “Oh, shit. I didn’t – I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Robb shifted on his seat uncomfortably, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “I…for the past few days, Ramsay’s been camping in the park outside the hospital.”

Theon mouthed at him wordlessly for a few seconds before choking out, “You’ve got to be joking.”

“I wish I was,” said Robb darkly. “I already talked to the hospital staff about it, but apparently since he’s sitting in the park he’s not technically on the premises, so they can’t kick him out. The first thing we’re doing when you leave the hospital is filing a restraining order against him, okay?” 

“I have absolutely no problems with that,” said Theon hoarsely. He was still horribly surprised, but he knew Ramsay was a psychopath and he really should have expected him to pull a stunt like that. “But that doesn’t explain the blood on your knuckles.”

A sheepish expression crossed Robb’s face. “Just before I walked in, he called you…something very rude that I’m not going to repeat. So I may have lost my temper and punched him in the face.”

Theon’s mouth fell open in shock. “You – Robb, you’re at a hospital! This is the last place where you should be going around smashing people’s faces in!”

Robb shrugged. “I explained to the security guards that he was my best friend’s ex-boyfriend who beat him badly enough that he needed an ambulance to shuttle him to the emergency department. They must’ve understood, because they nodded and walked away.”

“You’re unbelievable,” grumbled Theon, flopping back onto the bed. After a long pause, he added, “Did you at least break his nose?”  

“I think so. He ran to the emergency department shrieking like a little kid,” said Robb, sounding extremely satisfied by that fact.

Theon snorted. “Good riddance. But –”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Robb cut in. “I’ve wanted to punch Ramsay in the face for a while, anyway.”

Theon huffed, but a part of him was moved that Robb knew him well enough to anticipate his words. Then again, he knew Robb well enough to know he hated violence – yet he’d punched Ramsay Bolton for his sake.

“So,” said Robb abruptly, tapping the earbud with one finger and grinning broadly, “Which cheesy love song do you feel like listening to?”

“They’re not all love songs,” groaned Theon. “You’re not going to let me ever live that down, are you?”

“Never.”

Theon glared at him, but Robb just smiled smugly.

“Okay, but if you ever bring it up when there are people around, I’ll tell them about the time you almost killed your own dog,” warned Theon.

Robb’s smile vanished. “That wasn’t my fault!” he exclaimed. “I’d literally just adopted Grey Wind. How was I supposed to know he was allergic to dairy? I didn’t even know dogs could be lactose intolerant.”

“It was mentioned in the medical forms the animal shelter gave you,” noted Theon.

“I was going to read them after feeding Grey Wind some milk.”    

Theon chuckled. “It’s a good thing I was the only one at home with you. And that we managed to bring your dog to the vet and return before anyone from your family came back.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” said Robb dryly. “I wasn’t planning to tell anyone you have a soft spot for love songs, anyway, so you don’t need to worry about that. Now pick one and play it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Theon mockingly as he selected a song and pressed Play.

When the melody began playing, Robb threw him a look. “’Don’t Cry’? Really?”

“With the alternate lyrics,” corrected Theon. When Robb continued to stare at him with discontent, he cocked an eyebrow. “What? It’s a love song.”

“You know I don’t like Guns N’ Roses,” Robb grumbled.

Theon was going to say something along the lines of You told me I could pick any love song, but the puppy-dog look on Robb’s face caused the phrase to sputter out and extinguish before it left his mouth. He exhaled irritably. “Fine, I’ll let you pick the next one.”

Robb’s face brightened instantly, and he leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. Theon studied him, his dark eyes tracing Robb’s profile, his messy auburn curls, the corners of his upturned lips. When he realized what he was doing, he quickly tore his gaze away, his cheeks flushing.

Robb is my best friend, he reminded himself. Nothing is worth the risk of ruining that.

Not to mention that after being beaten up by Ramsay fucking Bolton, Theon wasn’t sure he was ready to enter another relationship anytime soon. He was doing his best to hide it from Robb, but he was pretty sure that the painkillers flowing from the IV tube into his arm were the only reason he hadn’t been grimacing in pain since he’d woken up from unconsciousness. As it was, he still felt sore all over, like he’d been hit by a truck instead of tortured by his now his ex-boyfriend.

As if he’d heard him thinking, Robb’s blue eyes opened and he frowned. “Something wrong?”

“Nope,” said Theon, effortlessly putting on a smirk. “Everything’s fine.”

Which was the truth. Even if he had unrequited feelings for his best friend, even if he’d been hurt and humiliated by his ex-boyfriend using him like a plaything, Robb was still by his side – and that meant the world to him.

---

4. 10:58 P.M. Friday, December 25, 2015 (Age 19)

Theon reached out to take the steaming mug of hot chocolate Robb was holding towards him, sighing in relief when his cold fingers made contact with the heated surface. He lowered his head, disregarding the coils of steam rising from the liquid, and sniffed the hot chocolate.

“Are you sure this is safe to drink?” he asked dubiously. “You tend to poison whatever you cook.”  

“Yes, it’s perfectly safe,” Robb said placidly. “I’ve only ever messed up cooking food. And this is hot chocolate – how hard can it be?”

“Famous last words,” muttered Theon under his breath. He debated taking a sip, but the heat was becoming a bit too hot for his fingers, and he really was afraid that Robb had screwed up the hot chocolate recipe. It was only two weeks ago that Robb had somehow burned the hardboiled eggs they’d been going to eat for breakfast. With all that in mind, Theon chose to place his mug back on the kitchen counter. 

Robb looked at it questioningly, and Theon hastened to explain, “Too hot for now.”

His best friend accepted the lie without blinking, which made Theon feel guilty – but not guilty enough to pick the mug back up.

“So,” said Theon. “Since when does your entire family go to sleep at eleven on Christmas Day?”  

“Since they all pored through the Boxing Day flyers and made a list of stuff they wanted to buy,” replied Robb, setting aside his own hot chocolate. “They’re going to wake up at six in the morning so they can line up outside the store.”

Theon whistled. “And I thought the Starks couldn’t get any more insane.”

Robb punched him lightly, and his mouth quirked into a smile. “Hey, it means that we have the whole house to ourselves. As long we don’t wake up Jon. Or Arya. Or – you know what, let’s just keep quiet.”

“Great,” said Theon. “What should we do?”

Robb thought about it. “We could play Halo 5?” he suggested.

“We could,” said Theon slowly, pressing his palms flat against the counter and staring Robb right in the eye. “Or we could, you know, exchange Christmas presents since we usually do it in the morning, but for some reason whenever I brought it up today, you changed the subject.”

Robb’s face was priceless.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Was it really that obvious?”

Theon rolled his eyes. “I’m been your best friend for thirteen years, I should hope I’m able to notice you constantly changing the fucking subject whenever I mention the word ‘present’.”

He’d also been getting weird vibes from Robb all day, and it’d been making edgy. Of course, his secret feelings for his best friend meant he was always slightly on edge around him, but when he couldn’t tell what Robb was feeling – that made him especially worried. 

Robb laughed, but it sounded nervous and off-key. “Right, that makes sense.”

Theon glanced at the Starks’ digital clock on the stove, which read 11:01 p.m. in bright green numbers. “I don’t know why you keep delaying it, Robb, but Christmas Day is almost over.”

His best friend visibly swallowed. “I know. I just – never mind. Okay. Let’s do it now.”  

Theon flashed him a cocky grin that wouldn’t have normally fooled Robb, but he was obviously distracted and didn’t catch Theon’s feigned bravado. “I’ll go get your present first, then?”  

Robb nodded once, looking like he expected to faint the moment he completed the motion.

Theon hurried out of the kitchen and headed up to Robb’s room, the grin slipping off his face. In all the years he’d known him, Robb had never looked so…terrified about giving him a simple Christmas present. Not to mention that Robb’s anxiety was apparently contagious, because now Theon was getting antsy and he didn’t even know why. Shrugging it off, he grabbed the silver gift bag off Robb’s desk and carried it downstairs.

He found Robb sitting on the living room sofa, staring at the brightly lit Christmas tree in the corner. To Theon’s relief, he seemed to have calmed down slightly in the time it had taken Theon to run upstairs.

“Well, merry Christmas,” said Theon, thrusting the gift bag into Robb’s arms without ceremony.

Robb blinked, a small, pleased smile gracing his lips. He removed the red tissue paper from the gift bag, looked inside and pulled out a plain steel box.

“Open it,” urged Theon once he noticed Robb giving the box a puzzled look.

Robb shrugged and lifted the lid. His blue eyes scanned the assorted items – an ice pack, water, ginger ale, mouthwash, aspirin, and Pepto Bismol – and widened slightly.

“Is this supposed to be a hangover kit?” he asked bemusedly.

“Um, yes,” said Theon, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. “It’s homemade.”    

“I can tell,” said Robb in amusement. “Where did you get the box?”

Theon shrugged. “Found it in the basement.”

He decided not to tell Robb that the box was probably either Rodrik or Maron’s. After his brothers had died in a car crash the year before, his mother had moved most of their belongings to the basement and no one had taken the time to go through them. Unless they sold the house, Theon doubted anyone would.

“Oh. Well, thanks,” said Robb. “Considering that I bought some of your favourite alcohol a few days ago, we can probably use this sometime during the holidays. Maybe New Year’s Eve?”  

Theon’s eyes lit up and he almost blurted out Oh gods I love you, but managed to hold his tongue in time. Instead he said, “That sounds fucking awesome. Is that my Christmas present – alcohol?”

“Of course not!” said Robb, sounding offended. “I wouldn’t get you alcohol for Christmas, that’s so impersonal.”

“Impersonal, huh?” said Theon with a smirk. “So you got me something personal?”

To his surprise, Robb blushed violently, his face matching his red hair. “Um, I – yeah. I did, actually,” he stuttered.

Theon raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by the mere fact that he had never heard his best friend stammer before.

Robb took a deep breath and said tremulously, “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes,” Robb repeated. “While I…get your present.”

Theon’s brow furrowed. That temporary hesitation in Robb’s request was enough for him to suspect that something was off. “Why?”

“It will be easier and, well –” Robb squeezed his eyes shut, exhaled, and re-opened them, looking at Theon desperately. Theoretically, it should have reassured Theon, but it only increased his confusion tenfold. “Trust me. Please?”

How on earth was Theon supposed to refuse him when Robb looked exactly like a kicked puppy? It was a look Robb had unknowingly perfected over the years.

But if there was anyone in the world Theon trusted completely, it was Robb.  

Theon gave a tiny shrug, said “Okay”, and closed his eyes.  

He expected Robb to get up and walk out of the living room to wherever he’d hidden his Christmas present, but all he heard was the shifting of the sofa as Robb moved – closer to him?

Then Theon felt Robb’s breath ghost across his mouth, and he only had time to think What before a pair of soft lips was pressed against his own.

Theon’s whole body stiffened, and his eyes flew open in shock. Robb’s eyes were open too, but as soon as he caught Theon’s startled look he jerked away, putting a good three feet between them on the sofa.

Theon mouthed at him wordlessly, trying and failing to speak coherently.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry,” Robb blurted, looking stricken. “I thought that you – fuck, that sounds so presumptuous. I mean, if you want to punch me, or pretend this never happened –” 

Finally finding words again, Theon croaked, “What. Was. That?”

Robb put his face in his hands. Theon had to strain his ears to hear him murmur, “That was supposed to be my Christmas present to you.”

Theon stared at him blankly. As he processed Robb’s words, a hope he had long ago killed fluttered back to life in his chest, and it was becoming difficult for him to breathe properly.

“I’m so sorry,” Robb repeated. “If you want to –”

“Robb, shut up,” interrupted Theon. He took a deep breath, forcing away the terror and concentrating his sudden, newfound hope. “The only thing I want right now is for you to get back here and give me my Christmas present again.” 

Robb froze. As Theon’s words sank in, his blue eyes brightened in joy and he instantly scooted back to Theon’s side, so rapidly that Theon couldn’t help chuckling just before Robb crushed his mouth against his.

Theon’s eyes fluttered shut as his hands moved to the back of Robb’s head, dragging him closer. Robb’s lips were soft and warm, and he tasted faintly of the cranberry pie they’d eaten after dinner. Robb’s hands were gripping at his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, but everything felt so wonderful and perfect that Theon couldn’t care less.

He moaned as Robb slipped his tongue inside his mouth and he felt Robb grin against his lips. Theon could hardly believe it was real and happening, and he clutched at Robb’s waist tightly to be sure he was there, that he wasn’t dreaming any of it. Happiness crashed over him in a wave, drowning him in surfaced emotions, and he wanted to stay submerged forever.

But his need to breathe eventually overrode the pleasure, and he pulled away with a gasp. Robb stared at him, breathing heavily. His lips were red and kiss-swollen, and the desire to kiss him again was so strong that Theon had to grasp the sofa’s armrest to physically restrain himself.

“How long?” asked Theon once he’d caught his breath.

Robb blinked hazily, his blue eyes clearing as he processed the question. “Since I’ve wanted to kiss you like that? Shortly after you started dating Ramsay.”

Theon’s jaw dropped. “But you were –”

“Dating Jeyne at the time, I know,” sighed Robb, running a hand through his hair. “I liked Jeyne, I really did. But whenever you mentioned Ramsay, I always got so jealous and it didn’t take me long to figure out why.”

The mere thought of Robb being jealous of Ramsay of all people was enough to make Theon’s head spin.  

“Shit,” said Theon suddenly. “Is that why you broke up with her right after I left the hospital?”  

Robb smiled ruefully. “Yeah – I couldn’t keep dating her when I was falling for you.” One of Robb’s hands settled on Theon’s thigh like it was perfectly normal, making Theon shiver. “What about you? How long have you –”

“Liked you?” finished Theon. “I don’t even know. Since middle school, I think.”

“That long?” said Robb, sounding surprised. “Wow. Sansa once told me I was an oblivious idiot, but I thought she was joking.”

“I won’t argue with that,” said Theon, causing Robb to snort. “But in your defense, I did hide it from everyone. I figured you were straight, and that even if you weren’t, well –”

He was about to say why would you pick me of all people, but Robb stopped him with a rapid, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Theon.”

Theon abruptly closed his mouth, and Robb sighed. “You never give yourself enough credit. Look, I wanted to be best friends with you in Grade 1 and I still think that was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. You’ve changed a lot since then – you used to be self-conscious and now you’re cocky as all hell – but at heart you’re still the same person. And I’ve always liked that person.”

“Really,” said Theon disbelievingly. “Always?”

“Now and always,” said Robb softly.

Theon was struck by the weight behind those three little words – words that he’d never forgotten and, apparently, neither had Robb. He swallowed hard before saying, “That is so fucking cheesy. Then again, so was that kiss.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe that was your Christmas present to me.”

“What was wrong with it?” asked Robb defensively.

Theon stared at him incredulously. “Nothing’s wrong with it! It’s just – it’s so sappy that I don’t know whether I should laugh, cry, or throw up. Probably all three.”

“Um, how about neither.”

Theon shot him his trademark smirk, but for once it was genuine. “Make me.”  

Robb’s blue eyes darkened at the challenge and he closed the distance between them. Theon tangled his fingers in Robb’s auburn curls and kissed him back fiercely as Robb wrapped an arm around his waist and hooked his ankles around Theon’s. Despite the fact that it was the middle of winter, Robb seemed to radiate warmth like a furnace. Theon pressed his body closer to his, hoping some of the heat would be transferred to him. 

Heat…

“Robb,” Theon murmured across Robb’s mouth.

“Hmm?”

“We left the hot chocolate on the kitchen counter.”

Robb paused, then kept kissing him. “Right. I forgot about them.”

“We should really go…” started Theon, but Robb chose that moment to nip at Theon’s lower lip and his sentence tapered into a low moan.

When he’d regained control over his brain’s reactions, Theon braced his hands on Robb’s shoulders and reluctantly pushed himself off the sofa.

“You’re picking hot chocolate over me?” teased Robb, sitting back on his haunches.

“You made the hot chocolate,” Theon reminded him. “I don’t want it to be cold when I drink it.” Even if he was wary of drinking the damn thing.

“All right,” Robb conceded, getting up and following him to the kitchen.

Theon flicked on the light switch and strode up to the counter, where the two hot chocolates were still resting. The steam had long ago petered out, but when Theon touched the mugs’ surface, he luckily found the liquid lukewarm and not cold.  

He picked up the two mugs and handed one to Robb, who lifted it up and grinned. “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” echoed Theon, grinning back and knocking his mug lightly against Robb’s.

Then the two of them downed the hot chocolate – for about a second. As soon as the flavour hit his taste buds, Theon promptly choked and set his mug back down, resisting the urge to spit the liquid into the kitchen sink.

“Why the fuck,” he gasped out, “does it taste nutty?”  

Robb looked at his own cup queasily. “I don’t know,” he said, quickly putting his mug back on the counter and recoiling from it with a shudder.  

Theon frowned as he swirled the remnants of the liquid around his tongue. “It almost tastes like –”

The corresponding flavour resonated in his mind and he froze. “Oh, shit. I think – Robb, where’s the vanilla extract you used?”

“It’s in the cupboard,” replied Robb, pointing at the one directly behind Theon’s head.

Theon turned around and yanked it open. The interior was neat and orderly, with only the thinnest layer of dust hinting that it wasn’t opened very often. Scanning the vast array of cooking oils and baking ingredients Catelyn Stark owned, he located the vanilla extract and picked up the tiny bottle. “Is this the one you used?”

Robb paled. “Fuck. No.”  

Theon had expected that answer. He selected a different bottle, this one slightly larger but the same colour as the vanilla extract. “Let me guess, you used this one?”

“Um. Yes. What is it?”

Theon couldn’t hold it in any longer and he burst out laughing. “I don’t believe it – you switched the vanilla extract with pumpkin seed oil!”

Robb’s jaw dropped open and he grabbed the bottle from Theon’s hands to check it for himself. Upon reading the bright orange label, he groaned and pressed a palm to his forehead in frustration.  

“So much for the hot chocolate being perfectly fine,” said Theon, his voice dripping with mirth.

“Oh, shut up,” Robb muttered without any real conviction.

“But this is pure gold,” sniggered Theon.

Robb rolled his eyes. Stepping forward, he cupped Theon’s face and kissed him without warning, abruptly shutting him up. Theon inhaled sharply and nearly dropped his mug, but he somehow managed to set it down precariously on the counter behind Robb and weave his fingers into the hairs at the nape of Robb’s neck to bring him closer. When Robb’s tongue pressed against his lips, Theon parted them with a sigh but then grimaced at the taste.  

“You taste like pumpkin seed oil and chocolate mixed together,” he grumbled.

“So do you,” Robb retorted against his mouth.

Theon opened his mouth to snap back, but Robb seized the opportunity to move his head down and trail open-mouthed kisses along his neck, completely derailing Theon’s ability to speak. He couldn’t decide where to keep his hands – they wandered restlessly from Robb’s hair to his hips to underneath his shirt. When Robb raised his head, Theon cradled his face in between his hands and placed a series of hot, delicate kisses along his jawline, smirking when he felt Robb tremble beneath his fingers. 

Robb moved his head back, only leaving a few inches between their faces, and panted, “Maybe we should move this to my room?”

“That,” said Theon breathlessly, “sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Robb chuckled as he grabbed Theon’s hand to lead him upstairs. Not for the first time, a spark raced through Theon at the physical contact with Robb – but for the first time, he allowed himself to revel in it.  

---

5. 11:23 P.M. Monday, December 25, 2017 (Age 21)

Theon drained the shot in one gulp and raised his hand to signal the bartender for another. Five shots weren’t nearly enough for him to be truly drunk, and he needed to be. He needed to forget the past two weeks, pretend he wasn’t actively trying to get smashed at a bar, forget the reason why he was doing so.   

The bar he was at (the Kneeling Man) was mostly empty, which made sense to Theon. Only people with no family or friends would get drunk at a bar on Christmas Day. Asha had invited him over, but he’d lied and told her he had plans (though he was almost certain she knew it was a lie). And Robb –

Nope. Not going to think about Robb.

The bartender poured him another shot, sliding it across the counter towards him, and Theon quickly took a sip. He concentrated on the sour taste of the drink, the burn of the alcohol down his throat, anything that would get his mind off his boyfriend. Or whatever Robb was now – Theon wasn’t sure whether he could still think of Robb as his boyfriend when they hadn’t exchanged a word for two weeks.

He squeezed his eyes shut as a sudden wave of exhaustion passed through him. Theon hadn’t been sleeping well lately because he’d grown too used to falling asleep in Robb’s arms. The sentimental part of him that he usually tried to squash was telling him to find Robb and beg for forgiveness; the prouder, sarcastic side that had become more prevalent in recent days just told him to stop dating people whose name started with the letter R.

Just as Theon was about to finish off his sixth shot, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the call display. The name Jon Snow was lit up in bright white letters against his phone’s dark background, like falling snow at midnight.

He scowled. Theon could count on one hand the number of times Robb’s half brother had called him, and he really wasn’t in the mood for dealing with him. On the other hand, he hadn’t spoken to any of the Starks since his fight with Robb and it would be good to know they were at least alive.

Or so he told himself as he answered the call. Maybe he was just so desperate that he was grasping at any link that could possibly lead to Robb, no matter how unlikely he was to get help from someone who intensely disliked him.   

“What do you want, Snow?” he asked bluntly. He was kind of proud that his words only slurred slightly, even though that was probably because he’d only gotten to the bar fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t had enough time to get properly drunk.  

“Greyjoy,” said Jon curtly. “Where are you?”

“Why do you care?” he snapped.

Jon sighed and said reluctantly, “I was coerced into confirming that you’re at the Kneeling Man on Valar Road.”  

For a moment, Theon was shocked into silence. Then he hissed, “How the fuck did you know that?!”

“Arya and Gendry sold you out.”

“What?” But even as Theon answered, he twisted around on the barstool to peer around. There was only one couple in the bar; they were sitting at a table in the corner nursing two beers and a platter of nachos, speaking in hushed voices.

The boy noticed Theon looking at them and nudged the short girl sitting beside him. She looked up and removed her hood, revealing Arya’s darkly smirking face. Gendry looked slightly apologetic, but that wasn’t enough to deter Theon from shooting them both a death glare. He mouthed I'm going to kill you, drawing one finger across his throat in the universal gesture promising death. Arya just laughed at his face, leaning one hand on Gendry’s shoulder for support.

“Snow,” Theon said carefully as he turned his back on the young couple. “You said someone forced you to call me. Who?”

“If you actually have to ask me that, you’re even stupider than I thought,” said Jon derisively. “Listen, if I didn’t know that you’ve likely been as bad as Robb was over the past two weeks, I’d have already killed you. Multiple times over. For being an asshole and a complete idiot.”

“Excuse me –”

Jon didn’t let him finish. “Speaking of being an asshole and an idiot, please don’t do anything stupid in, oh, about five seconds. You’ll see what I mean.”

There was a click on the other end of the line as Jon hung up. Theon frowned at his phone in utter confusion. Five seconds? That could only mean – but no, Robb couldn’t possibly have driven to the bar just to find him –

The front door of the Kneeling Man swung open, and Theon’s head shot up as Robb burst inside. Their eyes met instantly, and a mixture of relief and anxiety stained Robb’s expression.

Sheer panic filled Theon’s chest. He scrambled off the barstool, wondering if he could dart past Robb and out the door before being caught, but before he could decide Robb lunged forwards and caught his arm in a viselike grip.  

“I had to bribe Arya with twenty dollars to get her to tell me where you were,” he said in a rushed, panicked voice. “Please don’t make it be for nothing.”

Theon swallowed hard. Robb’s eyes were pleading with him to stay, and fuck but Theon had never been able to refuse his stupid blue puppy dog eyes. Not when he’d been in the hospital, not when they’d shared their first kiss. And apparently not now.

He let his arm go limp in Robb’s grip. “Fine.”

Silent gratitude emanated from Robb. “All right. Um. Would you rather we talk back at home? This isn’t really a conversation we should have in a bar.”

“Sure,” he muttered. He knew Robb was referring to the apartment they’d bought together a few months ago. After their fight, Theon had stormed out and crashed at Asha and Bronn’s place, steadfastly avoiding all the places he knew Robb visited regularly, and the places he knew Robb would expect to find him.

Robb nodded and proceeded to drag him out of the bar. Theon didn’t miss the grateful look he threw at Arya and Gendry and scoffed indignantly. Fortunately, Robb didn’t seem to hear him, just led him towards his car – where Jon was seated in the passenger seat and wearing an expression that suggested he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Thanks, Jon,” said Robb as he relinquished his hold on Theon’s wrist and hurried into the car. “I’m assuming you’re not coming with us?" 

“Hell no,” said Jon, sounding horrified by the mere idea. “I’d rather babysit Arya and Gendry. And that’s saying a lot." 

“As long as Arya doesn’t hear you say that,” Robb chuckled.

Jon slid out of the car and left the door open for Theon to duck inside. Theon rolled his eyes, but reluctantly settled into the passenger seat, slamming the car door closed behind him. Robb started up the engine, tossing Jon a small wave before peeling out of the parking lot.

The drive to their apartment was silent and awkward, but fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how Theon looked at it) it wasn’t too far from the bar and only a ten-minute drive. Several times, Theon eyed Robb’s hands, which alternated between tapping and gripping the steering wheel, but didn’t dare look Robb in the face.

After Robb parked the car in the building’s lot, they wordlessly took the elevator up to room 336. Theon watched in trepidation as Robb dug the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open. 

He followed him inside, hesitating on the threshold to take in the view that seemed both familiar and strange after not seeing it for two weeks. It was obvious that Robb had done barely any cleaning during that time – all their stuff was still piled on the coffee table and littering the floor. Theon walked inside and noticed that the TV remote hadn’t moved from the spot on the floor where he’d thrown it aside in his anger.

As Theon cautiously stepped into the kitchen, a grey blur shot up from where it’d been curled up on the tiles and bumped against his leg. A smile tugged at the corners of Theon’s mouth as he bent to pet Grey Wind.

“Hey buddy,” he said quietly. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Grey Wind snuffled, briefly nosing the hem of his jeans before racing past him to greet Robb, who had just walked into the kitchen. Theon straightened, carefully smoothing his features into a blank mask.

Robb ruffled Grey Wind’s fur. The large husky barked happily, his tail wagging, and evidently oblivious to the palpable tension in the room. Theon awkwardly cleared his throat and glanced at the refrigerator. “Is there any whiskey left?” he asked hoarsely. 

“Yes,” answered Robb after a short pause. “But I think you’ve drunk enough.”

“I only had five and a half shots.”

“We need to talk, and I don't want you to be drunk.”

Theon had to admit Robb had a point. He wanted a drink to calm his nerves, but chances were it would also loosen his tongue enough that he’d lose control over his brain-to-mouth filter and that would just fuck up the situation even more. For some reason, that knowledge irked Theon and he muttered darkly, “Have it your way, then." 

Robb flinched as if Theon had slapped him. Theon pretended not to notice and headed to the living room, where he flopped onto the sofa. Robb followed him and eyed the spot beside him, then seemed to think better of it and took a seat on the leather armchair on the other side of the room.

“So,” began Robb after the silence was threatening to go beyond awkward. “I guess I should start by apologizing.”

Theon’s mouth fell open. That was not what he’d expected him to say.

“Why are you apologizing?” asked Theon. “I should be the one saying sorry." 

Robb shook his head. “We were both at fault – and I overreacted. A lot. So I’m partially to blame…and I’m sorry.”

Theon kept gaping at him, too stunned to reply, and Robb’s eyes narrowed. “What did you think I was going to say?”

“Nothing,” said Theon quickly.

Robb frowned, apparently thinking hard, before his eyes widened in horrified realization. “Wait. You didn’t – did you think I was going to break up with you?”

“...Yes,” he confessed. “Really, you would have every right to –”

“I don’t throw two-year relationships out the window after only one fight,” interrupted Robb, still sounding appalled. “Seven hells, that’s why you've been avoiding me? I can’t believe you even thought I would just dump you like that.”   

“It was all my fault, though,” said Theon dejectedly. “When my dad called me after he got himself arrested in fucking Greece, I should have asked you to come with me.”

Robb sighed and moved across the room to sit beside him, taking him by the hand. Theon tensed, but Robb just turned his palm up and lightly traced circles into it with his thumb. The sensation was oddly comforting and Theon found himself slowly relaxing under Robb’s touch.

“I wasn’t angry about the fact that you asked Asha to come with you instead of me,” said Robb. “Yes, I was a little hurt that you didn’t want me to go with you, but not mad. I was angry because you hopped on a plane and flew across the continent without telling me.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want you with me,” said Theon. He hadn’t even realized Robb had gotten that impression. “I just – you had that important job interview and I know you would have skipped it to come with me, but I also know you really wanted to get that job and I didn’t want you to miss it because of me.”

“Yes, I realized afterwards that was your line of thinking,” said Robb – and was that affection Theon heard in his voice? Gods, he’d missed that sound – “And while I love that you were that worried about my potential job, you’ll always come first – which is why I freaked out when I came home to a note that said ‘I’ve flown to Greece’ with no further explanation about what the fuck you were doing there. Not to mention your phone was off when I tried to call you.”

Theon winced. In hindsight, that note he’d hastily scribbled and stuck onto the fridge was a terrible idea, one that had only distressed Robb further.

“My phone died and I forgot to bring my charger,” said Theon weakly. 

“Yeah, I figured that out when I found it in our room later.”

Theon sighed. “I know that’s a shitty excuse.”

Robb did not disagree. “It’s just –  from my point of view, you went to Greece for several days with hardly an explanation as to why, since you didn’t reply to my e-mails I didn’t even know whether you were alive, and I was worried out of my fucking mind the entire four days you were gone. You might as well have dropped off the face of the earth.”

Guilt for what he’d put Robb through rose anew in Theon’s chest. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out. It sounded horribly inadequate, but Robb genuinely smiled and pulled him down so that Theon’s head was lying on his shoulder. Theon didn't feel like he deserved that, but the sensation was so familiar and safe that he couldn't help nestling into him.

“Apology accepted,” said Robb. “And like I said earlier, it was partially my fault for yelling at you as soon as you walked in the door when it was obvious that you’d had a shitty time in Greece.”

“That’s okay –”

‘It’s not okay.” Robb looked him in the eye. “As your boyfriend, I’m really sorry that I didn’t ask you about whatever happened, which is why I’m asking if you'll tell me now.”

The endearment boyfriend, which Theon hadn’t heard in two weeks, combined with his relief that Robb didn't want to break up with him, was what convinced him to open his mouth and and tell Robb everything. How he’d naively hoped that his dad had appreciated him for once. How that hope had been crushed when the first thing Balon told him was that he’d have never contacted him if Asha or any of his uncles had answered their phones. How Asha had had to pull them apart before their increasingly loud argument alerted the prison guards. How, despite all that, he still wished his dad hadn’t driven drunk at twice the speed limit when his brothers had been killed the same way four years ago. How he and Asha had no idea how they were going to tell their mother when she was currently in a mental hospital.  

Robb didn’t stop him – he just listened. At one point, his hand came up and started carding through Theon’s hair, which felt so nice because it was such a Robb thing to do that Theon’s voice cracked at the end of his tale.

Then something wet splashed on Theon’s cheek, and he looked up in bewilderment.

“Are you crying?”

Robb swiftly wiped his eyes. “I just feel really bad now,” he choked out. “After all that, you spent the past two weeks thinking I wanted to break up with you, which was the last thing I wanted to do, and –”

“Seriously? Robb, none of that was your fault! I don't blame you for any of it.”

“I know. But I still can’t believe you even thought that I’d want to, and I wish there was some way to show you…”

His words trailed off, causing Theon to glance up at him. Robb looked like a lightbulb had just blinked on above his head, emphasized by the look of sudden inspiration on his face.  

“Robb?” Theon prompted.

“Hang on, I’ll be right back,” said Robb, gently pushing Theon’s head off his shoulder. Theon whined in protest, but Robb ignored him and dashed to their bedroom.

He reappeared a minute later with an ordinary white shoebox tucked under one arm that Theon didn’t recall ever seeing. Robb sat back down in the same spot and said nervously, “I’ve never shown this to anyone, but I think I'd like to give it to you. It’s even the right day, so it is rather appropriate and…well, Merry Christmas.”

He proffered the shoebox to Theon, who took it automatically and stared at it in complete bewilderment. “Um, thanks, but what is this?”

Robb cracked a grin. “A shoebox?" 

Theon punched him lightly, but smiled for the first time in what felt like ages.  “No shit. Don’t make stupid jokes – that’s my role.”

“I suppose that's a good thing,” said Robb. “I've missed your stupid jokes.” He swallowed and added, “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Theon whispered.

Robb hiccupped a laugh. “This is starting to sound like a chick-flick conversation.”  

Theon rolled his eyes. His mind drifted back to the shoebox he was holding and he said, “Unless you’re giving me new shoes, which would be idiotic since you know I bought a new pair in the fall, this is not being used as a shoebox. Really, what is this?”

“It’s my memory box,” said Robb quietly.

“Your what?”

“Memory box. It’s a box that a person fills with items that represent memories that are special to them.”

“Oh.” The concept sounded vaguely familiar to Theon, but he hadn’t known Robb had such a box. “But – then this is important to you. Why are you giving it to me?”

Robb nodded at the box. “When you see the contents, you’ll understand.”

Theon frowned, but he could tell Robb wasn't going to divulge any more information. He nodded in return and slowly lifted the lid of the box.

There were more objects stuffed inside than Theon expected. The box was filled to the brim, and he was amazed the lid able to close properly. It was also lined with powder blue tissue paper, softening the interior cardboard’s harsh edges and protecting the more fragile items from being broken, as if they were Easter eggs.

“You can go through them,” said Robb, sounding both anxious and faintly amused when Theon simply stared at the box blankly.

“Right,” said Theon, giving himself a small shake before reaching in and picking up the biggest item: a white folded-over paper with a badly drawn Christmas tree on the front – a drawing that was very familiar to Theon.

“You kept this?” asked Theon in astonishment.

“I did.”

Theon opened the Christmas card that he’d given to Robb back when they were seven years old. After Robb had slipped a card into his backpack when they were six, he’d decided to do the same for Robb the following year. Viewing it now made him cringe – he had been so proud of a drawing that was really fucking terrible, even for a seven-year-old – and he was shocked that Robb considered it worthy of keeping.

“Why?” asked Theon.

Robb seemed to understand the unspoken part of his question, why did you bother to keep such a shitty gift, because his face contorted into an inscrutable expression and he countered, “Well, you still have the first Christmas card I gave you, why did you keep mine?”

“How did you know that?!” Theon yelped. Yes, he did still have Robb’s very first Christmas card to him, but it was safely hidden inside his battered copy of Eragon.

“You were out grocery shopping, and I was helping load our boxes in the moving truck when the box with your books split open and everything spilled onto the floor, including the card,” Robb answered with a half-smile.

Theon flushed in embarrassment. He didn’t really know how to put into words why he kept the card. It could be because it had been a particularly shitty Christmas that year and the card had brightened his day a whole lot even though he’d barely known Robb at the time, but Theon felt like the real reason went a lot deeper than that. A reason that may have had something to do with his addiction to his best friend.

Was Robb hinting that he had a similar fixation on him? Theon wasn't sure.

He settled for ignoring Robb’s self-satisfied smile and put the Christmas card back, grabbing the next closest item in the box. When he opened his hand, he realized it was a photograph of their trip to France five years ago. They were standing outside the Eiffel Tower with their arms around each other, beaming at the tourist Robb had begged to take the picture.

“We looked like we were dating even though we weren’t,” Theon commented without thinking.

Then he shut his mouth in dismay, because Robb had been dating Jeyne at the time and oh gods, what was he going to think –

Robb snorted a laugh. “I’m sure the tourist thought so, along with everyone else in the vicinity. Actually, I think someone did ask me whether we were dating.”

Theon was glad Robb found it amusing. If the French, who were naturally affectionate towards platonic friends, thought they’d been dating, he could only imagine what the people who saw them daily must have thought.

Deciding not to dwell anymore on that, Theon placed the photograph back into the box. The next couple of items he looked through were all related to Robb’s family: Ned and Catelyn’s wedding picture, a paper airplane with Rickon’s name scrawled across it in bright red, a seashell which Theon remembered seeing once in Bran’s room, Arya’s charm bracelet with tiny daggers hanging from it, a tiny sculpted clay wolf made by Sansa, a shot of Robb and Jon playing in the snow –

“Wait a minute,” said Theon, glancing back at the photo – and the giant snow fort in the background. “Is that the time you built me a snow fort for Christmas?”

It was Robb’s turn to blush. “Um, yes. I’m not even sure who took that picture. I think it was Mom. Anyway, I ended up keeping it because I was so afraid that you wouldn’t like my, well, unusual Christmas present that year, but you seemed so damn happy with it.”

“You gave it to me,” answered Theon instantly. “Of course I was happy with it.”

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. Robb’s mouth curved upwards into a smirk.

“Theon Greyjoy, did you just say something sentimental?”

“Nope, you must have been hearing things,” he countered swiftly, dumping the photo back into the box and snatching the next object to take Robb’s mind off from his words.  

Then he realized what he’d just picked up, and his jaw dropped.

“You told me you lost these,” said Theon, aware that he sounded very stupid.

“I might have lied?”

“No shit,” muttered Theon, running a hand over the downy fibers of the small pair of blue and white mittens. Back in high school, Robb had taken a home economics class and persuaded Theon to take the class with him (again with that fucking puppy-dog expression). In a partnered sewing project, they’d decided to make a pair of mittens, but both of them had been so terrible at sewing that they’d only had time to sew the world’s tiniest pair of gloves.   

“Why did you keep this? The stitching is awful,” marveled Theon. “I bet Bran can do a better job than this.”

“Bran actually knows how to sew,” Robb pointed out. “But I think we did better than Arya could.”

“That’s not much of an accomplishment.”

Robb glanced around nervously, as if he expected Arya to pop out of nowhere and attack them for criticizing her nonexistent sewing skills. “We might have nearly failed that project,” observed Robb. “But you came over pretty much every day and we’d keep trying to sew until we gave up, made popcorn and watched Netflix together until we fell asleep.”

“I remember those days,” said Theon. “Didn’t Snow catch us one time when we fell asleep on your computer keyboard and he took a picture?”

“Yep, it’s right…” Robb rummaged around the keepsake box and pulled out another picture. “Here.”  

Theon took one look at it and burst out laughing. He and Robb were half-asleep, their red and bleary eyes in the picture making them look wasted. There were faint keyboard marks on Theon’s forehead, and Robb had a large red spot on his cheek from dozing on top of the computer mouse.  Still chuckling, he let his head drop back on Robb’s shoulder. Robb hummed in contentment, his hand moving to stroke Theon’s hair.

Setting aside the mittens and the photo, Theon continued going through Robb’s memory box. He had expected most of the objects to be related to the Starks – and a good number of them were – but he that estimated that half of them were about just him and Robb.

Finally, he reached the last item in the box, It was a manila folder that had been buried beneath all the other items, and Theon wouldn’t have noticed it all if Robb hadn’t pointed it out, because just the corner of the folder was poking out from under the blue tissue paper. Curious, Theon flipped it open and withdrew the sheaf of papers inside.  

It appeared to be an essay, handwritten in Robb’s messy writing. Theon glanced at the date – March 21, 2012 – and his eyes wandered to the essay title: My Favourite Things.

Theon’s brain short-circuited for a second. He recognized that damn title. His head whipped upwards to fix Robb with a piercing stare, his hands shaking slightly. “This is – are you actually letting me read it?”

Robb let out a breathy chuckle, but it sounded a tad nervous to Theon’s ears. “I wrote it five years ago. It’s about time, isn’t it?”

The essay was an assignment their tenth grade class had written, with the subject matter being their favourite things. Theon had scribbled some bullshit about three items he owned – he didn’t even remember which three anymore – but he remembered that after he’d let Robb read his to edit it, he had offered to read through Robb’s. But his best friend had blushed fiercely and refused to show it to him. For the next couple of years after that, Theon had occasionally brought up the possibility of reading Robb’s essay, but Robb had never budged. 

Until now, apparently.

Being denied the essay for so long made Theon feel very privileged, as if the essay was several centuries old and tantamount in value to the Magna Carta. He even handled the essay like it was that old, carefully putting aside the cover page as if it might crumble to dust if not handled properly. Acutely aware of Robb’s gaze drilling into him, Theon started reading. 

After speeding through the brief introduction, Theon was surprised to see that all of the ‘favourite things’ Robb had chosen were people. The first paragraph was about all the Starks, particularly his parents and Jon Snow, and the second paragraph spoke about his regard for Jeyne Westerling and some of his other friends. Theon was astonished when Jeyne’s name popped up because Robb had written the essay only a few months after they’d split, but then again, both had stayed friends after the breakup. And just before moving his eyes onto the third paragraph, Theon realized what – or rather, who – Robb must have chosen as his final favourite thing, and he took a deep breath before continuing.   

Like all the other people I mentioned above, my last (but definitely not least) favourite ‘thing’ is a person, even though people are not things. Yet people are usually possessive of their things, and I can’t help but feel somewhat possessive of my best friend, Theon. Even back in first grade, when I’d met him for the first time, he’d been through a more difficult childhood than I could ever imagine and he’d looked so lonely and lost that I’d just wanted to hug him. Despite all his hardships, Theon smiled often and cracked terrible jokes that made me laugh, and we’ve been best friends since that year. A few months ago, Theon was badly hurt, and I had never been more scared in my life than when I’d first spotted him so severely injured because I thought he was going to die (even though it turned out to be not quite that serious). It made me realize exactly how much he really means to me, and that realization was both exhilarating and frightening because Theon means everything to me. And deep down? I think I’d always known that.

Theon swallowed hard and met Robb’s eyes. His boyfriend was openly crying, and he would have teased him about it – but his own eyes were watering. He choked out the first thing that came to mind: “You are such a sap.”

A laugh burst from Robb’s throat, sounding like it had to get past a furball to escape, and he reached out a hand to cradle Theon’s cheek. Theon closed his eyes, relishing in the gentle caress he hadn’t felt in forever, before throwing his arms around Robb’s neck and surging upwards to connect their lips in a heated, overdue kiss. All of Theon’s nerves were set ablaze, extra sensitive after not being in contact with Robb for so long. Robb’s hands wrapped around his waist as Theon moved into a sitting position, leaning partially on the sofa and partially on Robb.

When they pulled apart to breathe, Robb said shakily, “Do you remember what I told you back in first grade, after the Christmas break?”

It took Theon a few seconds to think back on it – his mind was still dizzy from the kiss. “That we were best friends, now and always?”

“Yes, now and always,” whispered Robb. “And no matter what happens, I intend to abide by that.”

Theon gave him a lopsided, sincere grin. “Good. Because so do I.”

---

+1. 9:22 A.M. Saturday, December 25, 2021 (Age 25)

The harsh rays of sunlight pouring into the room were what woke Theon on Christmas morning. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, but when he caught a glimpse of the time on the nightstand clock, he wished he’d closed the curtains before falling asleep. Even though it had been snowing the night before, the sky had cleared during the night, leaving a cloudless expanse of blue that permitted the sun to shine right into Theon’s face. He threw an arm over his face, blinking away the afterimage, and swung his legs out from underneath the covers.

A soft, sleepy moan made him glance over his shoulder. Robb was still sleeping soundly, completely undisturbed by the sunlight illuminating his red hair to the point that it resembled fire. His arms were wrapped around Theon in a surprisingly strong grip for someone sleeping, and his face was buried in the crook of his neck, with every warm breath he puffed out tickling Theon’s collarbone.

Theon knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, and figured he may as well make breakfast for when Robb eventually woke up. So after stretching his limbs and letting Robb cuddle him for another few minutes, he pushed the blanket off him completely and shifted closer to the edge of the bed in order to stand up.

Robb’s arms tightened around his waistline, preventing him from moving any further.

Theon sighed before attempting to pry his boyfriend’s arms off him. Robb made a distressed noise at that and clung onto Theon like a drowning man holding onto a life raft. Growling quietly, Theon worked his arms underneath Robb’s, trying to shove them away, but to no avail.  

It took Theon ten minutes to wriggle out of Robb’s ironclad grip on his waist and crawl out of bed. He straightened, pushing long strands of black hair out of his eyes, and silently changed into his old sweater (actually, Theon thought it might be Robb’s, but it wasn’t like Robb would mind), his comfortable pair of jeans, and black-and-gold socks Asha had given him for his birthday the year before. By the time he finished, Robb had rolled into the spot he had vacated, burrowing into the warmth Theon had left behind.

Theon rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. He was torn between watching Robb sleep or dumping ice cold water on him out of pure spite, but then his stomach rumbled and he remembered why he’d bothered getting out of bed in the first place.  

Padding into the kitchen, he rummaged around the fridge and scrounged up several strips of bacon. Theon would have preferred something more nutritious, but he supposed it would have to do – plus, he knew Robb loved bacon. He shrugged and grinned to himself, turning on the stove, then reached into the cupboard to grab the frying pan.

His blaring ringtone went off, sounding unnaturally loud in the still morning air. Theon jumped in alarm and smacked his head against the kitchen counter.

“Fuck!” he yelped. Eyes watering in pain, he turned around to glare at his phone, which he’d left on the kitchen counter the night before and was now ringing forcefully, vibrating against the granite surface.    

Theon tossed the bacon strips onto the frying pan, then strode over and picked up his phone to flick the power button on. When he saw the name on the call display, he pressed ‘answer’ and snapped, “What do you want, Asha?”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” his sister said in an amused voice.

“Your call startled me and my head hit the granite counter,” Theon grumbled.   

“Oh, sorry,” said Asha, not sounding sorry at all. “Do you want me to call your local hospital? Or will you need the nearest mortuary?”

“Shut up,” he muttered. He could feel a lump growing from where he’d struck his head and wasn’t in the mood to deal with his sister’s sarcasm. “Why are you calling me? You never wake up before noon.”  

“Yeah, but Bronn somehow rolled on top of me in his sleep and damn near squished me,” muttered Asha.

Theon snorted, moving to grab a spatula from the kitchen drawer and flip the bacon. “Don’t kill him when he wakes up. Or you really will need to call the nearest mortuary.”

“Very funny,” she said. “I don’t plan on hurting him. At least, not permanently.”  

Theon balanced his phone between his shoulder and chin as he manoeuvered the frying pan over the element, wishing he could be certain his sister was joking. At least he knew Bronn was perfectly capable of dealing with Asha after seven years of dating.

“So. Why did you call me?”  

“Last week you told me that you were planning to ask Robb Stark something on Christmas Day,” she replied bluntly. “Are you still doing so?”

Oh. Theon had not expected Asha to remember that, let alone call him up about it. His fingers involuntarily went to his jeans pocket and brushed against the stitching. “Um, yes. I am.” 

“I see.” There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. “Good luck, I guess.”

Theon blinked. He almost demanded Who are you and what have you done to my sister, but realized at the last minute that Asha would find that offensive. “…Thanks?”

Asha ignored the questioning tone in his answer and added, “I still think it’s incredibly cheesy to ask him on Christmas Day, but whatever. Knowing Stark, he’d still cry tears of joy if you asked him in a fucking jail cell.”

“No, he…” Theon trailed off, recalling the time they’d briefly witnessed a wedding ceremony in a park and Robb had teared up right along with the newlyweds. “Shit. He would, wouldn’t he?" 

He could practically hear Asha smirking through the phone. “Yep. So stop worrying.”  

Theon dropped the spatula on the counter. “Who said I was worried?”

“No one. But it’s obvious, anyone can hear it in your voice. Literally – it goes up an octave when you’re nervous.”

“It does not!”

“…It just did. But whatever. I think Bronn’s woken up now, so I’d better go hit him for waking me up early on Christmas Day of all days.”

There was a faint cry of How many times can you hit me before it becomes domestic abuse? over the phone, then the sound of someone being slapped.

“Call me tomorrow after you and Stark stop being disgustingly romantic!” Asha shouted into Theon’s ear before hanging up abruptly.

Theon stared at his phone, contemplating his sister’s dysfunctional relationship until the sizzling sound of cooking bacon alerted him to the possibility of a fire. He tossed his phone back onto the counter and seized the spatula. After confirming that the bacon was done, he turned off the stove and started scooping the strips onto a clean plate he retrieved from the cupboard.

A pair of arms circled his waist unexpectedly. Theon jerked, his head whipping around, and he accidentally gave Robb a faceful of black hair. “Oops.”

“It’s okay,” said Robb as he batted Theon’s hair aside. “But really, is that how you say ‘good morning’ to your boyfriend?”

“It is to people who sneak up on me when I’m busy cooking them breakfast,” Theon retorted. “The proper way is to announce ‘Good morning!’ before you give them a heart attack.”

Robb chuckled. “Touché.”

Theon finished piling the bacon strips onto the plate and left the spatula on the frying pan, eyeing Robb’s slightly unfocused expression. “Did my phone ringtone wake you up?”

“What? No – I woke up on my own.”

Theon could instantly tell he was lying. “Right. You were a little kid the last time you woke up on your own, Robb. Surely you could come with a better fucking excuse.”

“You’re right,” said Robb with a straight face. “It was actually the smell of bacon that woke me up – I’m that hungry.”

Theon stared at him for a long moment before both of them dissolved into giggles. “Well, I’m not going to be the one to deny you food,” he said, handing Robb the plate of bacon and opening the cutlery drawer to grab the forks and knives.

Robb inhaled the scent of bacon and sighed appreciatively. As he set the cutlery on the table, Theon blurted, “Did you hear my phone conversation?”

Robb threw him a weird look, and Theon shrugged. He couldn’t remember for certain whether he’d mentioned anything to Asha that might clue Robb in as to what his Christmas present was, and he was really hoping Robb didn’t hear anything.   

“I only heard the end,” said Robb. “You said ‘It does not’…in falsetto, for some reason. Why do you ask?”  

“Oh, no reason,” said Theon, letting some of the tension release from his chest. He decided to steer the subject back to something safer and gestured at the plate he’d handed to Robb. “Are you really going to eat all of that bacon?”

“Well, you’re not going to.”

“That’s because I don’t like bacon. It’s so…unhealthy. Should you really be eating it?”

“I’m a historian, not an athlete,” pointed out Robb. “I can treat myself on Christmas day.”

Theon wrinkled his nose. “Bacon is a treat?” He knew Robb really loved bacon, which was why he regularly added it to the grocery list, but he himself couldn’t see the appeal of greasy, fried fat.

“For me it is, but I know it’s not for you,” said Robb, smiling mischievously as he crossed the kitchen towards the pantry door. “Which is why I stopped at the bakery yesterday just before it closed.”   

Robb took out a plain white box and handed it to Theon, who opened it and grinned widely when he saw the assorted muffins and scones inside.

“Now these are treats,” said Theon gleefully.

When he glanced back up, Robb was watching him with a quiet intensity, looking so very pleased that Theon liked the desserts. Theon tried to say thank you so much but the words didn’t come. Instead, he dropped the box on the counter and swiftly pressed Robb up against the pantry door, kissing him passionately.  

Robb emitted a surprised noise that quickly turned into a moan when Theon’s tongue darted out and traced the outline of his lips. He felt one of Robb’s hands tentatively settle on his waist, just one, and with a jolt Theon remembered that Robb was still holding the plate of bacon.

He immediately pulled away, eyeing the plate Robb was holding in his other hand. “Fuck, I forgot about the bacon plate. Sorry about that.”  

“I don’t mind,” said Robb, sounding slightly out of breath. “But maybe we should eat breakfast first so that we don’t waste the food." 

“Right,” agreed Theon, stepping back to lessen the temptation of ravishing Robb right there in the kitchen. He wasn’t above skipping breakfast if it meant having sex with Robb, but the Christmas present was still in his jeans pocket and he didn’t want to risk Robb accidentally discovering it.

Theon grabbed the box with the desserts off the counter. “You probably taste like morning breath anyway,” he said nonchalantly.

Robb stuck his tongue out at him as he carefully set the plate of bacon in the centre of the table and took a seat. Theon joined him, all the while aware of the little object tucked inside his jeans pocket.

---

Theon paced up and down the living room, occasionally shooting frustrated looks at the doorway. After breakfast, Robb had insisted on doing the dishes since Theon had woken up early and cooked him bacon. When Theon had protested, pointing that Robb had bought him breakfast, Robb had flat-out ignored him and bundled him out of the kitchen.

After his legs began to get sore from muscle overexertion (Theon really needed to exercise more), he sank onto the sofa. His gaze landed on the brightly decorated Christmas tree in the corner that he and Robb had only finished putting up the day before, and despite his best efforts to not focus too much on it, his mind wandered back to his gift for Robb. His pocket suddenly seemed to weigh ten times heavier, as if it were being overloaded with the weight of countless years’ worth of memories, both good and bad, platonic and romantic, forgettable and memorable. 

Theon really wished he wasn’t alone at the moment because despite Asha’s assurances, he was still freaking out over asking Robb, and the free time Robb had given him was only increasing his terror. He wondered if this was how Robb had felt precisely six years ago, when he’d been planning on kissing Theon for the first time, if he had felt like he was going to scream or break down in a mindless panic at any moment.   

He heard the water shut off in the kitchen, then the clanging of their frying pan against the drying rack. A minute later, Robb strolled into the living room, shaking his hands to flick off any remaining water droplets from them.

“Do you want to exchange presents now, or –” began Robb. 

“Now,” blurted Theon. He was fairly certain that if he didn’t go through with his plan soon, he would either spontaneously combust from nerves or not ask Robb at all, and both options were equally horrible.

“Okay, then. Just give me a second – I hid it upstairs."

Robb left the room and Theon gulped, clenching and unclenching his fists until he realized he was crumpling the sofa fabric between his fingers. He forced his hands to relax, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

Then he remembered why he was asking Robb that question, in the manner that he planned to. There was a reason he was going to be doing it in that specific fashion, and if he’d had even the slightest worry Robb would reject it, Theon would have never considered it in the first place.

So when Robb returned, bearing a large box wrapped in green, Theon was still fairly anxious, but on the whole he felt a whole lot better and even managed a genuine smile.  

Robb smiled back as he sat down beside him. “Another Christmas, huh? It seems like we’ve been through so many – is it because ours always seem more eventful than they ought to be?”

“Nah. It’s because we’re old now,” quipped Theon.

“Twenty-five is not old.”

“That’s not what I remember Rickon telling us a couple weeks ago."

Robb rolled his eyes, and Theon smirked. Back in November, when they’d taken Ned, Catelyn, Bran and Rickon out for dinner and squabbled over who would pay the bill, Rickon had asked them when they’d gotten so old in the incredulous voice of a thirteen-year-old.

“I think he was inferring that we sounded like an old married couple,” said Robb with a small laugh. Theon tensed slightly at the word married, but Robb didn’t seem to notice.

He swiftly covered it up with another smirk. “Hey, I won’t be the one complaining if you’re still giving me Christmas presents when we’re actually that old.”

“Likewise,” said Robb without missing a beat. “So, um, I know you usually give me your present first, but how about we change it up this year?”

Theon raised an eyebrow. “Any particular reason?”

“Well, your present is kind of heavy,” admitted Robb.  

“That’s your reason?”

In answer, Robb dumped the box in Theon’s arms without preamble. Theon grunted as the full weight of the gift settled on his lap. “What the fuck did you get me, bowling balls?”

“Good guess, but no.”

Curious, Theon ripped open the green wrapping paper and tossed it aside. The only thing that revealed was a nondescript cardboard box, so Theon located the flaps at the top and wrenched them open. He squinted inside the dark interior of the box, and when his eyes adjusted enough to see what it was, his jaw dropped.

“Seriously?” he asked again, his brain not thinking clearly enough to come up with anything more intelligent since he didn’t expect Robb to give him a fucking safe for Christmas.

“Yeah – I didn’t really know what to get you but during my wanderings around the mall I came across it, and I thought it could be useful? If you don’t like it, though –”

“Robb, shut up,” said Theon, cutting through Robb’s babble. “I love it.”

“Are you sure –”

Theon rolled his eyes once before leaning over and giving him a chaste kiss. He pulled back before he was tempted to go any further. “Yes, I’m sure. I can put all my valuables in there. You can even do the honours.”

That earned him a chuckle. “You just want me to do the work for you,” Robb accused playfully.

“Of course,” Theon agreed. “But really. Thank you.”

He wasn’t sure how to express how much he sincerely appreciated the safe. It represented protection and security, and throughout Theon’s turbulent life Robb had always been his place of refuge. So it was ironically appropriate that a gift like that would come from Robb.

Also, Theon had never been great with words, yet somehow Robb had always been able to understand his unspoken meanings, like Theon’s mannerisms were just another language he’d learned to translate into something understandable.  

This time was no different. Robb grasped his unsaid meaning, and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Theon carefully set the cardboard box with the safe on the ground and turned back to face Robb, who was looking at him expectantly. With a slightly smug smile, Theon hopped off the sofa so that he was sprawled on the floor with his head leaning against the cushions.

“The present I got you this year is a little…unconventional,” began Theon.

“Aren’t they always?” teased Robb.

Theon punched his knee. “I guess,” he admitted. “But this is even more unconventional than usual.”

“Okay,” said Robb, now looking intrigued.

He took a deep breath. “So. We’ve been dating since our first year of university, and best friends for much longer than that. And no matter how many fights we had, no matter how terrible, we always made up – and maybe they even made our bond stronger." 

He swallowed at that part, remembering their awful fight four years ago. Judging by the darkening blue hue in Robb’s eyes, his boyfriend was remembering the same thing.

Theon moved closer to him, until his bare toes brushed the tip of Robb’s fluffy blue slippers. “The thing is, when it comes to small, inconsequential arguments with you? I don’t mind them. When we quarrel over stupid things that don’t even matter on the grand scheme of things, it’s exasperating because you’re so fucking stubborn. But I can’t even get that mad at you and I don’t know why.” He cocked his head to one side. “It could be because you turn red whenever you’re particularly emotional, and it’s kind of cute." 

As if on cue, Robb flushed red. “Excuse me?” he coughed out. “I am not –”

“Don’t even try to argue that you’re not cute. I bet Sansa would agree with me." 

Robb opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say. “Yes, probably, but since when do you take Sansa’s side on anything? And for that matter, where are you going with all this…”  

He trailed off as Theon rose onto one knee. Robb’s blue eyes widened in sudden comprehension, and his mouth fell open in a perfect O. Theon couldn’t resist the broad grin from spreading across his face.

Deciding not to prolong Robb’s anticipation for much longer, Theon said, “I’ve been in love with you for gods knows how long and I know that’s never going to change. So, Robb Stark, will you do me the great honour of…”

He reached a hand into his back pocket, not missing the way Robb was gripping the sofa cushions tightly between his fingers. With a flourish, Theon pulled out a small cream-coloured envelope and handed it to Robb. 

“Going to a Bon Jovi concert with me?” finished Theon.

Robb opened the envelope and peeked at the pair of concert tickets inside. A flash of – disappointment? Yes, that was definitely disappointment – passed through Robb’s face. He smiled, but Theon could easily tell it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Theon, you don’t even like Bon Jovi.”

Theon shrugged. “I don’t hate them so much that I won’t go with you.”

“Oh,” said Robb, still wearing that fake smile. “Then yes. I mean, in my opinion you’re the one making the sacrifice. Of course I’ll go with you.”

He tried to pull Theon into a hug, but Theon, seeing what he was doing, quickly scrambled out of reach. Robb frowned in confusion. “What –”

“That was only the first present,” said Theon, chuckling. Sneaking a hand inside his other back pocket, he withdrew a dark blue velvet box and flipped it open to reveal an unadorned silver ring with a simple square-cut diamond. Robb gaped at it, his eyes flickering between the ring and Theon’s face.  

Theon had been planning on saying It would also be my honour if you would marry me, but the words got stuck in his throat and he only managed to choke out, “Marry me?”

“Yes,” said Robb instantly, his answer muffled from the hand he’d thrown over his mouth. He dropped his hand to his side. “Yes, of course I’ll fucking marry you, you idiot.”

“Well, that wasn’t very nice,” sniffed Theon, but Robb tackled him with a hug and Theon couldn’t have suppressed the giddy laugh that burst out of him if he’d tried.  

“You weren’t very nice either,” Robb retorted, his face buried in Theon’s neck. “You did that deliberately. Pretending you were going to propose, and then actually proposing.”  

“You have to admit it was pretty funny.” He was going to savour the astounded look on Robb’s face for a long time.

“Yeah, for you,” mumbled Robb.

“Also, I kind of wanted to see what your reaction would be if you thought I was about to propose,” Theon confessed. “I mean, if it was negative, then I wouldn’t have –”

“Negative?” repeated Robb incredulously. “Theon, as you mentioned, we’ve been dating for six years. Did you really think I would’ve said no?”  

Theon shrugged helplessly, and Robb’s eyes softened. He moved slightly closer to whisper straight into Theon’s ear. “My answer would have always been yes,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to the side of Theon’s head.

Theon turned his head so that Robb was kissing him on the lips instead, sliding his arms around his neck as Robb wound his fingers in Theon’s dark locks. It wasn’t like the frantic kiss Theon had attacked him with in the kitchen: this one was softer, sweeter, and made infinitely more meaningful by the circumstances.

When they finally parted due to lack of air, Theon let his gaze drift downwards and belatedly noticed the ring was still in the box. He silently cursed himself – he was supposed to put the damn ring on Robb’s finger, but he’d been so caught up in the moment that it had completely slipped his mind.

“Shit, I was – never mind. Hold out your hand.”

Robb did so, and Theon carefully slid the ring onto Robb’s left ring finger.

Robb lifted his hand to eye level, seemingly admiring the way the light from the window played against the diamond’s facets. Theon noticed the light also refracted onto Robb’s cheek; a tiny rainbow reflected on his pale skin.

“Wait,” said Robb suddenly. “Do you have one? A ring, I mean?”

“Um. Yes, but…” Theon held up his left hand, indicating the ring finger that Ramsay had damaged all those years ago and had never fully recovered. “Whenever I tried putting it on, the ring kept falling off since I can’t move the fucking finger.” After several attempts, he’d given up.

Robb looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he nodded firmly. “All right.”

Before Theon could ask him what he meant, Robb took off the ring and placed it on his other ring finger on his right hand. Theon blinked in confusion. “What are you –”

“Just because everyone else has it on their left hand doesn’t mean we have to,” explained Robb with a small smile. “Do you have the other ring with you?”

Theon wordlessly dug it out of the same pocket and handed it to Robb, who picked up his right hand and slipped the ring onto the corresponding finger. The silver metal felt cool against Theon’s finger, as if it’d been left outside in the snow for several hours. He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking between the ring and Robb. “Are you sure?” he couldn’t help asking. “People might look at you weirdly –”

“Let them look,” said Robb dismissively. “I’m not marrying them.”

He looked so very sincere about making sure Theon was happy too, and even after years of friendship, the years of living with his shitty father and brothers meant Theon still wasn’t used to someone putting him first. There were still times when he couldn’t even believe someone like Robb existed, let alone decided to befriend him, date him, and now marry him. 

Robb seemed to guess what he was thinking, and he sighed. “Don’t second-guess yourself after you’ve already proposed.”  

“I’m not – I don’t regret asking you!” Theon spluttered. “I’m just really, really overwhelmed with the moment and I didn’t think it would take this long to sink in and…”

He wasn’t aware that he was rambling until Robb put a finger to his lips. “Okay, I can tell,” said Robb, now sounding amused. “But we’ll worry about that later, okay? Just – enjoy the moment.”

“I will worry about it later,” muttered Theon. “When the news breaks out, I’m going to get shovel-talked by every single member of your fucking family. And if Jon and Arya decide to double-team me, I’m going to wind up dead.”

Robb snorted a laugh. “If it helps, I’ll tell them that I prefer you alive.”

“Gee, thanks,” said Theon dryly. “I’ll be sure to send you my gratitude from the hospital instead of the grave.”

His boyfriend – no, his fiancé – snorted and used his left hand to twirl the ring around his finger, looking so very thrilled about wearing it. Robb briefly took it off his finger to read the engraving inside, and grinned once he’d deciphered the words.

“Now and always, huh?” he said, sliding the ring back on his finger. “That’s sweet. You should have added the lyrics from your favourite love song on your iPod.”

Theon levelled him with a glare.

“Hey, I told you I’d never let you live it down!” reminded Robb, shooting him a smile. “And I always keep my promises.”

The memory of their first promise together flashed in his mind. Suddenly, Theon was six years old again, standing in the snowy school courtyard with Robb and vowing ‘now and always.’ When he blinked, the image was gone, but Robb was wearing the exact same smile he’d worn back then.

Theon rarely passed up the chance to make a joke, but he figured that this time, he could save it for another day.

So he simply said, “It looks like you do.”

Robb looked momentarily surprised, before beaming and reaching down to intertwine their fingers. Theon felt the two rings press together, and immediately the silver didn’t feel cold anymore – rather, it was warm like a newly kindled fire. He grinned once more before capturing Robb’s lips with his own.

Several minutes later (or was it several hours? Theon sure as hell wasn’t keeping track), when he was tugging Robb back up the stairs to their bedroom, he decided that he should stop worrying whenever Christmas Day rolled around. At least on that day of the year, everything always seemed to turn out all right.