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I. Irish Mob
The Stark family was notorious for throwing a good wake. They certainly had enough practice given all the deaths in their family. A brother-in-law this week, a grandfather the next—and that was just immediate family. Their distant cousins (which, Theon assumed, were immediate family to the Starks) also seemed to be dropping dead on street corners lately, a fact that made the local newspaper’s front page.
MOB BOSS FAMILY DWINDLING: is this the work of a vigilante or just bad luck?
“Maybe it’s the Lannisters,” Robb had joked at breakfast that morning, the grin not quite reaching his eyes, “they’ve hated us since dad helped run their family’s name into the mud.”
Unfortunately, Robb had been correct.
This was Theon’s first time at Stark wake (or any wake, really—his family wasn’t huge on funerals), but someone had to make sure Robb didn’t try to kill every cousin who patted him on the back and said, “Now you’re head of the family, Robbie.”
Robb’s aunt (his aunt!), then stated that he would never live up to his father but he was “good enough.”
You weren’t allowed to carry your gun, or any weapons, at a wake, but Robb’s eyes could’ve been bullets with the malice he put behind his glare as Lysa Tully walked away.
“Come on,” Theon tugged on Robb’s suited arm, earning a grunt from the younger man, “let’s go to Waffle House and get drunk on syrup.”
II. House Party
“Are you here for Margaery or Loras?”
Robb looked up from his cup to see Theon Greyjoy from third period geometry staring down at him. He opened his mouth to answer but the other boy continued.
“You’re Stark, right?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, sipping at the now warm beer in his glass in order to do something—anything—besides sit awkwardly in the corner like he had been, “you’re in my geometry class.”
Theon’s eyes were trained on Robb’s, but he only seemed to be half-listening as Robb continued to make small talk.
“So, Mrs. Mormont gave me the extra credit points even though I—”
Theon cleared his throat, cutting Robb’s diatribe off, “Are you really here to talk about school?”
“No,” Robb let out a nervous laugh into his cup, “but I suppose that’s all I know how to do at parties—talk.”
A curious grin spread across Theon’s lips, and, before he even spoke, Robb knew he’d be spending the next day in utter regret.
And Theon’s next words confirmed it—
“Having fun doesn’t require talking, Stark.”
III. Skype IM Chats
Robb Stark: You’re my best friend and I love you.
Krakenator: But?
Robb Stark: There’s no ‘but,’ Theon.
Krakenator: There has to be or you wouldn’t be professing your undying passion for me.
Robb Stark: You’re ridiculous.
Krakenator: That reply took awhile. Couldn’t come up with anything witty, huh?
Robb Stark: Shut up.
Robb Stark: Why do you do stupid shit like pick fights with Bolton?
Krakenator: There’s the but
Robb Stark: Seriously, why?
Krakenator: Why do you have your real name on here?
Krakenator: I thought we decided on Robb N Hood
Robb Stark: Theon
Krakenator: That’s my name, yeah
Robb Stark: If you answer the question I’ll change my name.
Robb Stark: Deal?
Krakenator: I don’t like the guy.
Krakenator: That’s it.
Robb Stark: Are you sure?
Krakenator: He’s a fucking evil son of a bitch, what else can I say?
Krakenator: I believe we had a deal.
Robb N Hood: Fine.
Robb N Hood: I already hate it.
Krakenator: Love you too dude
IV. 1950’s
Robb Stark is captain of the football team and boyfriend of the head cheerleader. He is a shoo-in for prom king. He eats lunch in the courtyard under the oak trees, and drives a gently used Cadillac.
He does not associate with anyone his mother would consider “riff-raff”—and he definitely does not use the backseat of his car to make-out with one of them.
He definitely hasn’t ridden on a certain greasy-haired brunet’s banged-up motorbike.
Nor has he skipped a prom committee luncheon (that his mother baked her delicious Hello Dollies for) to go to third base behind the bleachers with said brunet.
In fact, Robb Stark barely even knows Theon Greyjoy.
(At least, that’s what he tells his mother.)
V. Lab Partners
Theon had not been happy about this arrangement. Being stuck with the teacher’s pet as a biology partner was the last thing he wanted— it would kill his flawless reputation as a D+ student.
At least, Robb Stark was cute. At least.
“Why don’t you have a better grade in this class?” Robb asked one day as they dissected pig fetuses, “you’re really good at the labs.”
Theon would never admit to the thumping of his heart quickening at the compliment. Instead, he shrugged without even lifting his head in his partner’s direction.
“No, really, Theon. Why?”
He tapped his scalpel on the edge of the metal tray before looking up.
“I have a lot of excuses, Stark,” he smirked just to watch the expression on Robb’s face change from perplexed to amused, “are you sure you want to get into that?”
Robb nodded, friendly enough but still wary of Theon (he always knew when they were scared of him), so he decided to test the waters.
“Meet me after school in the parking lot,” he told Robb as the bell rang, “we’ll go somewhere and I might let you figure me out.”
He didn’t look back at Robb as he gathered up his stuff, but he heard the boy’s voice in his ear as they both pushed through the crowded hallway—
“It’s a date.”