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“Oh fuck.”
Jon was already having a bad day. Arya had accidentally spilled her drink straight down his front, training had been particularly brutal, Theon had been even more of a prick than usual, Lady Catelyn was in a sour mood, and to top it all off, Robb had stolen his hairbrush at some point during the day. Of course, Jon only discovered this last part as he’s getting ready for bed and was only half dressed in thin trousers. Hindsight being a gift from the gods, he really should not have opened the door to his brother’s room without knocking, but the gods have never been particularly kind to Jon Snow. Which is how he finds himself in his brother’s room, dressed sparsely, watching his brother fuck Theon Greyjoy.
“Oh fuck,” he thinks again, trying to rip his eyes away from the whorish sight in front of him, but is unable to.
Robb is leaning back with his back mostly to the door and his head turned towards the far wall, regardless, but it was Theon that mostly drew his eye. The ward looked debauched as he sits in Robb’s lap, raising up and down on the ginger’s dick while his short nails scratch desperately at the larger’s back. His eyes are closed, and his head is thrown back, revealing a few dark bruises that would sit just below his collar. Winterfell’s heir keeps one hand firmly on Theon’s hip, moving him roughly while the other is rooted in Theon’s mousey brown hair.
“Robb,” the archer whines, and it doesn’t sound like him at all. It’s high and desperate, almost girlish, and far too breathy. Robb pulls him down harder in answer to his pleas, and Theon moans happily. “ Gods , yes, just like that, please.”
Jon shudders despite himself. He knew men could lie with each other, and he knew Theon had done it once or twice - purely because the man never shuts up about his escapades unless children are present, and even then, he’ll find a way to slip in a crude joke or two - but he would have never guessed it was with Robb. Robb is noble and honest; he sleeps with whores, sure, but he treats them well. But if this is how he treats his whores, Jon can’t be too sure anymore. The sound alone is brutal, skin hitting skin, and the high whining pants and moans coming from Theon combined with the guttural growls from Robb; it all just sounds painful to Jon. And yet, Theon looks unbelievably blissed out of his mind.
The brown haired man snakes one of his hands between them, presumably for his dick, but Robb growls, stopping him.
“ Fuck , Robb,” he whimpers, the sound utterly pitiful. “Please, I want to cum.”
Jon realizes why his voice is so strange. It’s not just because it’s higher than normal, nor that it's desperate; he’s being genuine. He’s not mocking, lying, or taunting; he’s begging. Heat starts rising from Jon’s chest to his cheeks. Greyjoy begging is such an alluring sound, such a sweet contrast to his normal cocky tones. When his trousers begin to tighten, Jon realizes his train of thought and tries to shake himself out of it.
It’s one awful thing to watch Robb and Theon fuck, it’s another, even worse thing, to enjoy it.
“You’ll cum on my cock, or not at all,” Robb tells Theon as he pulls his hair.
“But I- aaa - already apologized for-” Theon whines, rolling his hips, his eyes fluttering.
Jon makes an effort to make his legs move from where they are firmly planted, but apparently, all bloodflow and commands are being rooted straight to his dick as it twitches at the archer’s moaning.
Robb drops his head slightly and bites Theon’s collarbone, causing the smaller to shake. “Aye, and that’s the only reason you get to cum at all.”
Jon wracks his brain for what the hell Robb could be punishing Theon for, but it hits him. Theon had intentionally fucked Robb over during training, grinning all the while, before pinning the blame on Jon. Gods, how often is Theon punished for being a dick by riding Robb’s? Jon immediately tries to push that thought from his mind, but Theon’s moaning makes clearing his head at all difficult.
Robb pulls the smaller down quickly, forcing a moan from him, and also making his eyes pop open.
“Shit.”
Theon and Jon stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. Theon’s eyes are foggy and completely unfocused, the blue of his iris almost completely eclipsed by his blown pupil. The shock of being caught washes away from Theon far quicker than from Jon as a lazy grin splits his face. He begins riding a little faster and lets his mouth hang open slightly.
“Fuck- oh gods- aaa,” he moans, maintaining eye contact with Jon.
“He’s putting on a show,” Jon thinks in pure shock. He draws his hands closer to himself and stops when Theon nods, but he nods when the black haired man’s hand is in front of his crotch. “Does he want me to…?”
“Please- please, I want you to- please-” Theon gasps out.
Robb smacks his ass, making him mewl pathetically. “Want me to what? Use your words, slut.”
Theon’s eyes flutter at the name, but his eyes never leave Jon. “Fuck me- I want you to fuck me!”
“I am fucking you,” Robb laughs, nipping at his collar again. “Unless you’re daydreaming about Jon again.”
Every thought Jon has ever had leaves his brain entirely and is replaced with a few rapid questions. Again. Robb said, “Again”. Does this happen often? How often does Theon daydream about Jon fucking him?
Theon flushes more and nods quickly, which only makes Robb laugh again. “You want him to be punishing you, don’t you?” He fucks him rougher, voice dropping lower. “That’s why you’re always pissing him off, huh?”
“ Yes, yes- Jon- fuck- fuck-” Theon pleads, face flushing further at the name slip.
Jon’s dick twitches immediately at hearing his name. He cups his dick and bites his lip to stifle the noise that threatens to escape.
Theon’s eyes roll back as he pants, “Jon” over and over.
Without warning, Robb pulls Theon off his dick and flips him over, pushing his head down into the furs by the hair and pulling his hips into the air. Jon is thankfully still obscured from Robb’s sight, but can still see some of Theon’s red face, most importantly his eyes. The heir sets back to fucking him, somehow rougher in this new angle. It’s animalistic and crude, like a wolf breeding a bitch in heat, but Theon moans don’t sound pained or scared. The archer writhes as he pants, curses, and alternates the names of the brothers.
“So desperate for his cock, but can’t work up the nerve to ask for it,” Robb taunts. “What are you so scared of, hm? That he’ll say no and you’ll have to beg?” Theon moans as he helplessly claws at the furs. Robb smacks his ass, the sound ringing through the room. “Answer me, whore.”
“Yes,” Theon gasps, pushing back against him. “Yes!”
Robb grips his hips tight enough that Jon is sure it’ll bruise. “But you’d think it was hot, being made to beg.” Theon nods quickly, still looking at Jon. “You’d like being on you’re knees in front of him, begging to take his cock, hm?”
The archer ruts back desperately, nodding as he spits out half-formed, slurred words. Robb speeds up, rhythm becoming slightly more erratic.
“He’s about to cum,” Jon thinks, and is only a little disgusted with himself for being able to recognize that, but the thought is quickly pushed from his brain as Robb groans, “Then have him finish you off.” Theon whimpers and pants as Robb stills inside him before slowly pulling out and lying face down next to him.
“Are you being serious?” Theon murmurs as he stretches, Jon watching the white liquid slowly drip out of him.
Robb doesn’t raise his head as he says, “Dead serious. His room’s just across the hall.”
“Uh-” Theon begins.
“I’m not asking you to, I’m telling you to. Go fuck Jon,” Robb snaps, raising his head slightly.
“But-”
Robb palms Theon’s erection, making him shudder and gasp.
“It’s the second part of your punishment. Go get fucked by him as an apology,” he says as he lets go of the archer’s dick.
Theon nods dumbly and stands up on shaking legs. He avoids Jon’s eyes as he stoops and grabs a cloak from the floor, and begins walking towards the taller one as he wraps it around himself. They silently exit Robb’s room and enter the bastard’s.
“We don’t have to do anything, Snow,” Theon says quickly, still not really looking Jon in the eye. He has the cloak pulled tightly around himself, but it’s a poor excuse for clothes.
“It’s back to ‘Snow’ now?” he teases, simply trying to break the tension.
The archer snarls though it doesn’t quite come across as mean as it normally does with his flushed face and mused hair. “I mean it, not like I’d want to be fucked by a virgin.”
Jon realizes suddenly that he has a very important decision to make. He can either pretend that this whole embarrassing experience didn’t happen and dismiss Theon. Or…
“But you want me to do something to you,” Jon rasps.
Or he can have control over Theon, who has been nothing but awful to him for years, and get some pleasure-filled revenge.
A shiver wracks Theon. “It was just sex brain, it makes you say stupid shit, you know that- or you would if you weren’t-”
Jon shoves him hard against the wall, pinning him in place with his broad chest. Theon tries to suppress his groans and hide his face, but he fails. His eyes are clearer than before, and a part of Jon is soothed that Theon should be clear-headed enough to push him off if he truly wants him gone.
“You don’t get to insult me here, Greyjoy,” the bastard hisses before smirking slightly, “or would you rather me call you a whore?” Theon’s whines answer Jon tenfold more than any words would. He works his fingers into the smaller’s hair and forces his head to turn to look at him. “Guess my first will be with a dumb whore after all.” Jon mouths lightly at the archer’s neck, nipping and lightly sucking until Theon relaxes against him, noises coming a little easier from his mouth.
The bastard steps away from Theon with a grin and walks to his bed as he undoes his laces and pulls his dick out. It’s almost comical the way Theon is looking at him from the wall. He can barely hide his want, despite him clearly trying. Jon takes pity and motions him forward. The archer slowly walks towards him, clearly trying to figure out what game he’s stepped into.
“Drop the cloak,” Jon orders, simply seeing how well Theon will listen, and is very pleased when he immediately lets the fur fall, revealing his naked glory. “Good, now come here and kneel.”
Theon drops in front of Jon without much hesitation. The bastard gently combs his fingers through Theon’s hair, making the smaller look up at him. His eyes have begun to fog over again, not nearly as clear as they were when they entered the room. Jon tugs on his hair lightly, earning a small noise.
“You want my dick?” Jon asks, tilting Theon’s head so that his mouth is level with his cock. “Beg for it.”
It takes a moment for the words to reach Theon’s brain, but the moment it does, his mouth begins running, “Please- oh, fuck, please. Let me have it, mouth or ass, I don’t care- fuck- just use me, please, Jon-”
The bigger pulls his hair to shut him up before asking, “How long have you wanted it?”
“Years- gods years,” he spits out.
“And that’s why you’ve been such a cunt to me? So I’d fuck yours?” Jon is completely unaware of where this confidence has come from, but is not about to look a gift horse in the mouth as Theon moans pathetically and nods.
Jon presses the head of his dick to his mouth, watching with amusement as it instantly falls open. He slowly fills the smaller’s mouth with his cock before using the grip he has on Theon’s hair to drag his head back and forth on his dick. The archer whines and moans, choking on the length of it while his hands grasp at Jon’s thighs.
“Fuck, you look pretty with something in your mouth,” Jon praises, unable to look away from the debauched sight. Theon hollows his cheeks and begins using his tongue, drawing a deep groan from the larger. “Just like that, that’s it.”
Tears begin to drip down Theon’s face as he shifts around. It takes a few moments for Jon to realize that he’s grinding against the floor.
Jon pulls him off, giving Theon a moment to cough and breathe before pulling him up to his feet. The taller grasps the archer’s dick and strokes it lazily, grinning as Theon bucks into it desperately. Using the hand still in his hair, Jon drags Theon into a deep kiss. The archer happily lets him explore his mouth with his tongue while bucking into his sword-calloused hands. They break apart only for air, and Theon drops his forehead against Jon’s shoulder, whimpering.
“Fuck me,” he begs, his voice nothing like his normal one. And Jon could certainly get used to this change.
Jon grabs him by the waist and tosses him onto the bed with more strength than he knew he could use. The smaller is temporarily shocked by the change, but adjusts quickly when Jon climbs atop him and kisses him again. Theon presses into it and hooks his legs on the bastard’s hips, chanting his hips downward.
They separate just long enough for Jon to press into his hole, aided by the spit and cum dripping out of him, before kissing him roughly.
It’s at this point that Jon remembers he’s never fucked anything but his hand before, and no amount of confidence can make up for experience.
But he is very determined to make this good.
He rolls his hips experimentally, earning a whimper from Theon. Encouraged, he does it again, a little faster and harder, getting a louder moan. He repeats the motion again and again, developing a rhythm that’s leaving Theon panting.
“That feel good, love?” Jon asks gruffly into Theon’s ear.
“Yes, yes, fuck, so good,” he repeats back, shaking slightly. “Gods, I won’t last if you keep on like that.”
“Then don’t last,” Jon responds, letting a hand drift to Theon’s dick. He’s never touched anyone else’s, but how different from his own could it be? “You were sent to me to finish off. Surely two dicks in an hour should be enough to finish you off.” Theon whimpers as he nods. “Or are you so much of a whore that you’ll need a third?”
The smaller gasps and shudders, grabbing at the bedding and Jon’s hair.
“No- fuck- I’m- I’m,” Theon moans, hips shifting erratically.
Jon bites his neck, far too high to easily hide with clothing. “Then come on my cock, bitch.”
As if he had said the magic words, Theon spills immediately. He screams Jon’s name, which the large man has to muffle with a kiss as he fucks him through his orgasm, chasing his own release. The ward shifts away from Jon, clearly overstimulated, but the pulsing of his inner walls, combined with how riled Jon already was, sends the larger over the edge, adding his cum to the mixture.
The bastard gives it a valiant shot at not collapsing directly on top of Theon, but ends up half rolling them so Jon is on his side with Theon curled into his chest. Shakily, Jon plays with strands of Theon’s hair as they both catch their breath.
“Could you…” Theon says, barely loud enough for Jon to hear over his own heartbeat.
“Could I what, love?” Jon asks, looking down at the man who’s hiding his face. The pet name shocks Jon for a moment, but he elects to ignore it. It fits, at least for now.
Theon swallows against his chest before looking up at Jon with some of his normal confidence painted onto his face, though it is more obviously fake than normal. “Could you praise me?” There’s a moment of silence before he quietly adds, “It helps after rough sex.”
Jon nods and kisses the top of his head. “Course, love, thank you for telling me,” Jon starts, noticing the way Theon immediately relaxes even at those simple words. “You did very good for me.”
“Mean it?” Theon asks, near-silent.
“Yeah, yeah, I do.” Jon rolls them so that Theon is lying on Jon’s chest. The black haired man continues to murmur random strings of praise while tracing light patterns into Theon’s back, basking in the afterglow.
“You might want to clean him up before his cum dries on the both of you,” a new voice says from the darkness of the room, startling them both.
Robb is leaning in the doorway of the room, holding some clothes. He’s dressed in a loose shirt and pants, something Jon knows he typically sleeps in.
“How long have you-” Jon begins, but is cut off by Robb.
“You watched me, I watch you.” He crosses the room and drops the clothes on a chair near the bed before pulling an object out of the pile. “Your brush. You came looking for it a little late.”
The cogs in his brain are turning too slowly to fully put together what that means, but Theon gets there first.
“You bloody cunt! You planned this!” the archer snaps.
Robb nods with a cheeky grin. “Your clothes are on the chair, I’m going to bed, and you two should sleep.”
“Why not stay?” Jon hears himself ask before he even processes the words.
“Would you want me to?” Robb questions with a raised eyebrow.
“I want you to,” Theon murmurs, a little embarrassed. “You did sort of kick me out.”
Robb hums and stoops to kiss the top of Theon’s head. “I knew Jon was there and would take care of you.”
“How did you-?”
“I heard the door open.”
Jon flushes slightly as he nods. Remembering Robb’s earlier advice, Jon sits them up enough to grab a wet rag and cleans them both up. He considers getting clothes but that would take a lot of work, and a lot of moving Theon who already looks displeased at the small amount of movement he’s been subjected to. He moves them under the covers, snickering softly at Theon’s hum of approval at the heat. After a moment, Robb joins them, lacing his fingers through with Theon’s.
“One of you is going to have to explain this to me in the morning,” Jon says as he yawns.
“Robb can do it,” Theon says instantly, drawing a laugh from the other. There’s silence for a few moments before Theon murmurs softly, “I can get used to this.”
“I can too,” Jon thinks as he runs his fingers through Theon’s sweaty hair. “I can too.”