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Sansa had fully been intending for 22 to be a weird year for her. She would finally be done with school, she planned on moving back to Winterfell… everything seemed to be changing. There were no more planned next steps, and it was exhilarating and horrifying all at once.

It turned out 22 was just plain weird, though, because somehow her new best friend ended up being a 36-year-old man who was in love with one of her other best friends. That she had definitely not seen coming.


Jaime was her manager at The Red Keep. It was meant to be an in-between job, something to hold her over until the resumes she kept sending out actually brought anything back to her, but as it would turn out applying for jobs was hard. Continuing to do so was even harder when you had no idea what you wanted to do and the money from bartending was actually pretty good.

Honestly, Sansa didn’t have much of an opinion of him at first. She had grown to be friends with some of the other bartenders—Grenn and Pip and Meera. Meera was her favorite with her sarcastic bite and infectious smile. She took no shit, and Sansa liked working with her best. Jaime was just… around. He was fine, polite even when he didn’t give off the energy that he was at least a little of a cocky asshole. She liked him well enough.

It wasn’t until a random Thursday night about a month into working there that anything struck her out of the ordinary. The bar was slow and Meera was helping with inventory in the back with Jaime as Sansa manned the front.

Brienne walked in wearing track pants and an oversized sweatshirt, a gym bag thrown over her shoulder. Her cheeks were pink, and Sansa smiled and waved her in.

“You actually came!” Sansa said.

Brienne shrugged as she took a stool. “I figured one of these nights I had to eventually, right?”

She leaned forward on the bar, her hands clasped tightly together. Sansa was trying to not be too obnoxious with the smile that stayed firmly on her lips, but Brienne always made her feel a bit lighter. It was the energy that Sansa could be exactly who she was and Brienne was happy with that. There was no pretense.

After Joffrey, Sansa had needed to feel stronger. She felt as if she was caving into herself, but it was Brienne who helped her realize she could fill herself back up. They trained at the gym, and it was over nights hitting punching bags and lifting weights that Sansa was certain they’d bonded in a way that was for life.

They still found time to train together at least once a week these days, but their schedules were weird and irregular. Sansa was happy to have gotten an excuse to see her as a surprise.

“What can I get you?” Sansa asked.

“A glass of water,” Brienne said as she pushed her hair back. Sansa shot her a disapproving look, and Brienne hummed. “I need to hydrate. I’ll take a pint of something too, though. Something not too dark.”

Sansa nodded, handing over the glass of water she had been filling with the soda gun before she grabbed a glass to go over to the taps. That was when Jaime walked back into the bar, a clipboard under his arm and his reading glasses still perched on his nose. They brought a giggle to Sansa’s lips, mostly because they looked so out of place on him.

He stopped beside her, eyes widening as they looked past Sansa. “Do you know her?”

Her eyebrows crashed together as she looked over her shoulder to see Brienne messing about with her phone as she chugged her water. “Brienne?”

His eyes were transfixed, and after a second he hurriedly pulled the glasses off of his nose and stuffed them into his pocket as if he had only just remembered he was wearing them. He ruffled a hand through his hair.

“Do you… want me to introduce you?” she asked confused, unsure how she should take the reaction he was currently having. “She’s my friend.”

“She goes to my gym,” he said. “Or she’s a trainer there.”

“Oh! I go there, too,” Sansa said, though it was clear Jaime did not care. “Right. I’m going over to hand her this beer, but you can gladly stand here and keep creepily staring at her, I guess?”

“I’m not…” he trailed off before sighing. “I’m coming.”

Sansa was not sure how to handle Jaime like this, not that she knew all that much what he was like on the regular, but it was sort of hilarious and almost a little… pathetic? She thought it made him more endearing, honestly.

“Here,” Sansa said as she set the beer down. “If you don’t like it I can get you something else. Also, this is my manager Jaime Lannister? He goes to our gym. Maybe you know him?”

Brienne looked up, and it was quite clear she  did know him by the way her eyes narrowed. Sansa crossed her arms, leaning her hip against the bar, and waited as if a movie was about to play in front of her. Brienne didn’t really hate people so Sansa was prepared for the story that would come later.

“Oh, I know him.” Her lips were tight.

“Oh…?” Sansa trailed off, biting her lip and staring between the two of them.

A smirk took over his features. “My reputation precedes me?”

She smiled, and Sansa had to bite harder down on her lip because this was not a proper Brienne smile. It was the smile she gave across the fighting ring right before she took someone down to the mat with a thud.

“Quite. You slept with one of my clients. People spill their secrets during training sessions all the time. I believe you never called her back?” It was framed like a question, but it was clear she held the truth of it all. She reached forward to the beer and took a big sip, the littlest bit of foam landing on her top lip before she wiped it away. “I love the beer, Sansa.”

It was a train wreck. An absolute destruction, and Sansa almost felt bad for Jaime except the whole situation was unbelievably hilarious. She looked back and forth, waiting to see what would happen next, knowing full well she should probably step in and help this whole disastrous situation, when Meera appeared from the back room.

“Old man! I need your help and most importantly the clipboard,” she yelled with a hand cupped around her mouth.

Jaime waved his hand at her then looked back over at Brienne, and was he showcasing actual regret? Sansa was fairly shocked, honestly. He tapped his hand awkwardly against the bar before saying a quick goodbye and turning to head out. Sansa whipped her whole body around toward Brienne, who was pointedly looking at her beer and not Sansa.

“I need to know more about this,” Sansa said. “What was that about?”

Brienne shook her head, and Sansa suddenly felt her heart clenching a little because her face looked sort of upset. It was the kind of upset she didn’t wear frequently, the type she avoided because her skin was thick in a way Sansa had felt motivated by. No one was impenetrable, though.

“He doesn’t remember,” she said with a shake of her head. “One of the first days he joined the club he made some snide remark, truly a thoughtless comment, and then the next time he saw me he acted like he hadn’t.” She took a sip of beer. “Men like him think the whole world bends to them, and I’m tired of wasting my time with it.”

“Well, fuck him then,” Sansa said. She was going to side with Brienne, obviously she would.

Brienne was one of her best friends. Brienne had quite literally saved Sansa when she felt down and weak. She’d picked Sansa up, helped her realize she had the power inside her the whole time, and showed her how exactly to wield it. Sansa knew she was strong because she had always been, but she also knew Brienne had helped shine a light to it.

Her smile was a little off, higher on one side than the other, but she dipped her beer forward as if in a cheers. “I’ll drink to that.”


Two days later, Sansa was in the process of making sixteen buttery nipple shots for a bachelorette party when Jaime came behind her to grab beers from the fridge.

“It’s not what you think, you know,” Jaime said. The night was nearly in full swing with the music growing louder in a way he had to sort of half-shout over to her.

Sansa kept pouring, and when a strand of her hair fell into her eye she puffed it out with a breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Brienne,” he began as he used the bottle opener and slid them across the bar. He disappeared for a minute as he must have taken the cash to the register. He returned and started helping her place the shots onto a serving tray. “I don’t know why she hates me. I have done plenty of things in my life to make women hate me but never to her.

“That’s not what she told me.” She turned to give him a look then, though she didn’t have the time with the way the bar was getting busy. “Why do you care? No offense, but the two of you kinda seem like oil and water.”

He huffed. “I was trying to compliment her, but she thought I was insulting her.”

“See, you do know why she hates you.” Sansa laughed. “How does that even happen? You know what, don’t answer. I need to get this over to the bachelorette party.”

“I’m going to answer as soon as you get back,” he said, but by the time she was turning around to stick out her tongue out at him he was leaning across the bar and taking another order.

Sansa nearly had a heart attack as she had to weave her way through the growing crowds of people, but she made it with no casualties. On the return trip, unfortunately, she had someone try to touch her ass but she accidentally elbowed back and she could not be faulted for that. Not one bit.

She slipped back behind the bar, hiding the tray underneath as she dipped forward to hear what the woman in front of her was asking for. It was an easy drink, and Sansa happily took the over generous tip and went to the register. As she turned the corner, though, she saw Jaime at the other end and, “Fuck.”

“You alright?” Grenn asked as he bumped into her from behind, also having been going around toward the register. He looked past her. “Oh, Jon’s here.”

Not seeming bothered by the odd display, Grenn slipped past her to go say hello, and Sansa was left looking at herself in the reflective surface that was the wall behind the alcohol shelf. She knew she looked alright, honestly, but it had been a weird day and she hadn’t bothered with full makeup or a cute hairstyle. It was wild, and her eyeliner was definitely smudged, and there was Jon Snow looking all sorts of perfect.

People around the bar were starting to get angry with her for not helping, so she sucked it up and made it around to drop the tips in the jar and the drink payment into the register. Then she turned and shot a smile to Jon.

Grenn was back to helping customers, but Jaime was still nearby. Sansa leaned her forearms against the bar so she could get close enough to hear him.

“I see someone already got you a drink,” she said as she tapped his beer bottle. “I also see you’re still doing the IPA thing.”

He raised a brow. “Pretty harsh words for someone who used to swear by dirty shirley temples.”

“I won't apologize for good taste.” Her smile took over her whole face. God damn Jon Snow and his perfect smile. He was wearing a faded flannel and his hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and literally nothing about that should have been so attractive but here he was. “What are you doing here? Is my brother skulking about somewhere as well?”

He tilted his head. “I wouldn’t say skulking, necessarily. Him and Theon seem to be in a pretty good mood, all things considered.”

“Oh, him and Marg back on then? No more break?” Sansa laughed, and Jon joined. She bent forward, as if it was a bit conspiratorial. “I love them both dearly, but they’re a pack of love-sick idiots.”

“Trust me. I live with him. I know .”

“Than you might just be the biggest idiot of them all.” Jon rolled his eyes, and she laughed again.

Jaime appeared to her right, dipping against the bar sideways and shooting her a look. “We getting back to work any time soon, Ms. Stark? I know the boy is pretty , but…”

“Oh, don’t get jealous now, Jaime,” she said with a roll of her eyes to hide her blush. She looked back to Jon and struggled to read his face, but Jon had always been sort of unreadable. Ever since he had shown up one day, Robb quite literally forcing him off the school bus to come hang out at his house, and he had become a permanent fixture in the Stark household. Cute and unreadable. “When it dies down maybe I can come over and say hi.”

Jon nodded then, tapping the bar once and giving her a smile. “The quicker the better. You know those two together.”

“Absolute insanity,” she agreed, and then he was off. When she turned, Jaime was giving her a look she would much rather not deal with.

“You like him,” he said.

“And you like Brienne.” She should have just denied his words and moved on, not openly admitted to them. This was a bad idea, but Sansa was finding she was growing better and better at bad ideas.

Jaime deflated a little, and he ran a hand over his face. “Fuck. I do. The one woman in the whole world who won’t give me a second of attention, and I can’t get enough.”

“It’s called pining.”

Jaime narrowed his eyes. “I’m assuming you know so well from your years of experience.”

Sansa was about ten seconds away from blowing this whole conversation off, throwing it in some sort of box and locking it away to never be touched again. Jaime was her boss, had about a decade on her, and he was the sort of smug she found basically constantly irritating. Though, that was the same thought she’d had about Margaery and she was one of her best friends. And Theon, for that matter. Fuck , she needed to get better at picking her circle of people.

“Fine, yes. I like him.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. He’s basically family, he’ll never feel the same.”

He shrugged back. “Brienne hates me. Guess we’re just left pining together, then. Pining pals.”

She rolled her eyes. “Unlikely. That sounds worse than pining alone.”

“Just you wait. Give it a little bit of time, and suddenly I’ll be looking like a real dream. It’s happened to more women than just you.”

“Gross.” He ruffled her hair, and she stuck out her tongue again, and she hated that she knew he was probably right.


JAIME:

Can you cover a shift tonight?

 

SANSA:

what exactly is the benefit for moi?

 

JAIME:

money, doing your job, talking with me about our mutual pining ways

 

SANSA:

I’ll come in but literally only because I find one of those appealing.

 

JAIME:

:)

 

SANSA:

you really are old you sent an EMOTICON not even an EMOJI

 

JAIME:

You do remember I’m your boss, right? I can fire you?

 

SANSA:

;)

 

JAIME:

:P


 

It took a week before she really gave into the desperation. It was just, well, she’d sort of exhausted Margaery as a source to whine about Jon. She couldn’t talk to Theon or Robb, no way in hell she’d bring it up to Arya, and it was hard sometimes to be left with all her feelings and no way to sort through them.

“Fine,” she said, sitting down next to him at the bar. They hadn’t actually opened yet for the night, and he was tapping away on his laptop doing orders or something. She had already set up all the garnishes, and the bar was ready to go.

He looked over at her slowly. “What?”

“I give in. I’m as bad as all those other women. We can be… I prefer the term friends over pining pals or whatever it was you said, but we can be that.”

His face was even before a smile slowly spread across it. “I will say, you’re much smarter than all those other women. I wouldn’t put you in the same league.”

“I think… thank you?” she began. “Wait, I need to know. What did you say to Brienne that you thought was a compliment but made her hate you?”

He shook his head, and she couldn’t get over the fact that he was relishing in the drama of this. Like he was a war veteran about to tell the story of when he survived impossible odds. Instead of it being that, though, it was a near middle-aged man talking about the time he insulted Sansa’s best friend. Why was she considering this again?

“It… you see, it just came out all wrong .” He sighed, eyes unfocused in front of him before he snapped to attention and turned toward him. He was really quite handsome, she thought, a sort of handsome that almost didn’t feel real. It was like he had walked off of the cover of a men’s magazine, and he somehow ended up in a bar. “I can’t be blamed entirely. It’s also her fault since she clearly lacks a sense of humor.”

Sansa raised a brow, not letting him off that easy. Though, she couldn’t deny that Brienne’s sense of humor was a bit lacking. Or maybe better put hard to understand if you didn’t know her. Solidarity, though, kept her from agreeing in any real sense.

“Fine, I said something about her stature and her sturdiness or something. The words bigger and more durable than a bear may have been uttered, but I’m fairly sure I blacked out so I can’t confirm that.” When Jaime noticed Sansa’s slack mouth, he threw up his arms. “She’s a big woman! She could kick my ass. I find that attractive .”

“You called her big, ” Sansa said with a gasp. “How exactly did you think that was going to turn out?”

“I meant it as in strong. My default setting is witty insults as a coping mechanism, is it that much of a surprise a compliment just naturally aligned itself that way?”

“It’s not surprising, but I do understand why she doesn’t like you.” Sansa tapped her fingers against the wood in front of her. “She’s had lots of dudes being shitty to her before, you can’t blame her for feeling a little wary with a compliment like that.”

“Do you think I can ever recover?” he asked.

Sansa thought about all the people who had wronged Brienne in the past. It wasn’t that Brienne wasn’t good at forgiveness, it was that she had endured a lot. It was also that she was, on average, a good judge of character. Brienne made a judgement, and unless someone proved her wrong, she had no need to amend it.

Looking at Jaime, Sansa was pretty sure he wasn’t a bad guy. She wasn’t sure entirely, though, that he was a good one either. Or that he deserved any of Brienne’s attention. There was still time before she could be sure about that.

She shrugged. It did not seem to set Jaime at ease. “Brienne cares about effort. Maybe, if you put the right kind in, she could be persuaded.”

“I’ve never backed down from a challenge.” He leaned his elbow against the bar, turning more toward Sansa. “What’s with the pretty boy? Jon, right?”

“You sure like to call him pretty, sort of in an insulting way, as if you aren’t very pretty.”

He held a hand to his chest. “Different kinds of pretty, I think. I appreciate you noticing, though.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s kinda like family. He’s been best friends with my brother Robb since elementary school, and he’s never left since.”

“And what chunk of that time have you been in love with him?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Love is a strong word. I’ve had a crush on him since freshman year of high school. He was at the beach with our family, and I lost this necklace I’d gotten from my dad, and he jumped into the ocean to find it for me. When he came up holding it, it was like I’d seen him for the first time.”

“That’s so cute it’s disgusting,” Jaime said. She hit his arm, and he laughed. “If it helps, I think he’s actually likely to like you back.”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, not. I’m Robb’s little sister so I’m probably off limits, not that it even matters. I once heard him say to Theon that I’m as good as a sister to him.”

Jaime let out a low breath, nodding slowly as he gave her a shake of the head. “That’s rough.”

“I know.”

“We’re both idiots,” he said.

“I know .” Sansa ran a hand through her hair. “So, that's what we do now? Bitch about the people who’ll never like us back until we die alone?”

“I guess so,” Jaime agreed. “Though we open in ten minutes, so I also need you to do your job now.”

She laughed and flicked his ear because this was friendship, now, wasn’t it? He had just found out about how she was in love with her brother’s best friend, and he was in love with her best friend, and it was a clusterfuck of massive proportions. Might as well lean in.


SANSA:

I met Robb and Jon for lunch and Jon brought me this cookie from the cafe near his work I like. RIP me.

 

like, he remembered?? and brought it without me asking?? what kind of soft bullshit is this

 

JAIME:

Tell him to get me one too. Bring me sugar when you come to work.

 

SANSA:

Why did i think you would ever help me again?? You’re useless.

 

JAIME:

Wow. You sound just like my dad. I feel like I’m back at home.

 

SANSA:

um... dark?? Do you need help finding a therapist?? Are we at that stage of our friendship?

 

JAIME:

No. I just spent an hour watching Brienne’s Instagram lifting videos. So now I’m feeling that good sort of pain instead.

 

SANSA:

RIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP


Jaime cleared his throat. “I just think—”

“I hate when you do that,” Sansa cut him off.

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her say a thing. “I just think that maybe if she had an opportunity to actually see who I was she would think differently.”

They were hanging out at the bar, well, technically Sansa was working and they were open, but it had been an all around slow night. Meera was cleaning some things up behind the bar, but Sansa and Jaime were sitting on stools and sharing a drink.

“Meera!” Sansa called, not bothering to answer Jaime as he sucked down more of his beer. “Come drink with us.”

She popped her head around the curve of the bar. “Come drink? With you sad sacks? No fucking thank you.” Her head disappeared again.

Sansa turned to Jaime. “Wait, what the actual fuck. That was one of the rudest things I’ve ever heard.”

“We are sad sacks,” he argued.

“God, if you’re admitting our inferiority it really must be true.” Sansa ran a hand through her long hair, throwing it the other way to fall over her shoulder.

The last regular left the bar, throwing them all a goodbye as they waved him off. Then Meera went to lock the door behind him and turned around, leaning her back against the wood for a minute. Sansa clapped.

“You two left me with all the closing work,” Meera said.

Sansa pouted, realizing her last drink might have actually hit her as her head swirled. “We’re sad. Please don’t be mad.”

“Now you really owe me your brother’s number,” she said. “Where has he been, by the way? I haven’t seen him around in forever.” Meera grabbed a beer from the fridge and then hopped up on the bar, crossing her legs and leaning forward toward the two.

“Honestly, his life is incomprehensible to me. He’s, like, got it figured out,” Sansa said.

Meera leaned back onto her hands and sighed. “God, that's so hot.

Sansa’s eyebrows crashed together. “Ew.”

“Wait, so just to get this clear,” Jaime said as he leaned one forearm onto the bar and his other arm waved his beer around in their direction, “you like her nerdy brother? The one with the glasses? Not the one with curly hair and dreamy eyes?”

Sansa eyed Jaime. “Are you in love with Robb?” she asked.

“Robb is too pretty ,” Meera continued, the two of them ignoring Sansa’s question. “Plus, have you seen him and his girlfriend together? They’re like dogs in heat, it’s truly disturbing.”

Sansa mostly hated that Meera wasn’t that far from the truth. She pulled out her phone as the two of them kept talking back and forth, finding a text from Jon.

 

JON:

Haven’t heard much from you lately. Just wanted to check in.

 

Biting her lip and the smile that was bursting through, she texted back.

 

SANSA:

Working lots. All good though. Movie night soon, maybe?

 

“Who are you texting?” Jaime interrupted. “Is it Jon?”

“Now, Jon is the good sort of pretty,” Meera continued. “He’s like, the sort of pretty you know could also cut down a tree.”

“Why… does that actually make sense?” Sansa asked. “Am I drunk?”

“Probably,” Meera said with a shrug. “Wait, so why are we sad? Is it because of Jon and Brienne?” Sansa nodded. “Oh my god, you two are insufferable.”

“But which one of us is the least insufferable?” Jaime asked. “I’m still your favorite over her, right?”

Meera tipped the neck of her beer toward him. “You… have never been my favorite. I’m only nice to you because you hand out the checks. Have you seen Sansa? She’s so pretty to look at.”

Sansa laughed, almost feeling bad with the way Jaime’s face went blank.

I’m pretty,” Jaime said.

Reaching out, Sansa patted his hand. “ Very pretty,” she agreed.

Meera hopped down from the counter and pulled out three shot glasses, filling them all to the brim. “If you two are gonna be such major bummers, at least do it drunker. I certainly need to be to keep this conversation going.”

“You could leave,” Jaime suggested.

“Hm, this is more entertaining, though,” Meera said. She waited for the two of them to grab their shot glass so they could bring them all together. “Cheers.”

The alcohol swished over the side onto Sansa’s hand, but the rest went easily enough down her throat. It almost felt like she could feel it the second it hit her, and she knew before long she would be truly floating on a wave of good feelings and light.

“But really. Can I get your brother’s number? I want to ask him to help me file my taxes or something,” Meera said with a mischievous sort of smile, it widening as she continued to think over it. “I can already imagine him pushing his chunky glasses up his nose. Oof.”

“Your kinks are so weird ,” Sansa said, shaking her head. “I will never be able to un-remember this conversation.”

“Another shot might help with that,” Jaime said. They did another shot.

Which, was really where Sansa knew she had taken a wrong turn. More aptly, perhaps she hadn’t known in the moment it was a wrong turn but by the time she woke up the next morning, cheek pressed into a couch cushion that was not hers, she had known it was a wrong turn.

Before her eyes were open, she could hear sounds in the kitchen. There was the smell of coffee wafting through the room. Then, the feel of fur rubbing against her arm, and Sansa knew without a single doubt where she was. The groan left her mouth before she could think better of it.

“It sounds like you’re up,” Jon said.

Sansa twisted on the couch, afraid to open her eyes. Slowly, she opened one eye to see him above her. His hair was still damp, leaving small spots of water on the the shoulders of his shirt, and he was dressed for work. He held out an old camp mug filled with coffee—sugar and milk already mixed in—and she took it gratefully.

She sat up, one leg underneath her body and holding the cup of coffee up to her nostrils to smell before taking a sip. He stood in front of her, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes determinedly not looking at her own.

“I don’t remember how I got here,” she said in the gap of silence.

A laugh puffed from his lips, and he fell into the couch next to her. His shoulder bumped hers, but his eyes stayed staring forward. After a beat, he passed his phone to her.

“You might want to look at that.”

The phone felt like a weight in her hands. “I might not. The fact that you aren’t meeting my eyes seems… worrisome.”

Jon didn’t talk, and Sansa felt her heart all the way in her throat. She opened his phone without a code, because Jon Snow was the sort of honest person who really didn’t have anything to hide, and opened the text thread of her name to find a disturbing amount of texts.

“Oh… my god.” She wasn’t sure she could get herself to read any of them.

“It, I mean… I’m gonna get some more coffee.” Jon stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of Ghost’s soft padding paws following him.

Sansa used the opportunity of solitude to finally fortify herself and scroll up her way to the top. They started innocently enough, but they spiraled fairly quickly.

 

SANSA:

What are you doing? You should come to the bar.

come!! pls!!! these two are out drinking me!!!!

you work tomorrow pls forget that text.

miss youuuuuuuuuuuu

i’ll even let you pick the movie next time, that's how much

unless your pick is like die hard then i will be forced to veto

but otherwise, all you

 

The texts kept spiraling after that, and it was fairly clear they became more incoherent and filled with alcohol. At some point, Jon’s replies became more interspersed. Sansa felt a tug at her chest with the way his texts were filled with concern. He was so good even when his annoying best friend’s sister was drunk texting him. God, how fucking embarrassing.

 

SANSA:

You’re very pretty, you know that? The good sort.

 

She chugged the coffee a little too fast after letting herself read that one, rubbing the bridge of her nose as the heat of the drink left a bitter feeling on her tongue. Never in her life had she been someone who texted ridiculous things under the influence of alcohol. She was composed. Controlled. Honestly, she had never been much of a drinker in the first place.

With all her brain power, she attempted to think over what had happened last night. She could remember laying across the bar and letting Meera pour tequila straight into her mouth. There were long stretches of time where Jaime would talk about Brienne, and then the three of them would all talk about their sorry excuses for love lives.

She could vaguely recall Jaime trying to get Brienne’s number from her phone, and then he hadn’t given it back, and…

“Oh my god,” she said, dropping the phone in her lap. An embarrassing number of the texts in Jon’s phone were from her, there was no way around that, but she was pretty sure Jaime had taken several privileges of his own when he’d had it.

When she looked up, Jon was standing in the doorway of the living room.

“I think Jaime texted some of these?” she began. “I mean, I know he did. We got sort of drunk. He took liberties.”

Jon’s eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” she was quick to correct, holding up her hands. “Like, with my phone. How did I get here?”

Jon stepped closer. “One of those liberties was calling me. He wanted to make sure you got home safe, so he called for me to pick you up. I said I could take you back to your apartment, but you…”

“Oh, just spit it out, Jon.” Sansa tried to convey more confidence than she felt. Her throat was dry, her mouth tasted still of tequila, and she was pretty sure a raging headache was going to hit her any minute. “Nothing can be more embarrassing than has anyone ever told you, you’re a real zaddy? Okay, I definitely didn’t text that one. I don’t know what a zaddy is.”

“What’s more concerning is the fact that your decade older manager does ,” Jon said. The two of them sat in the silence for a beat longer, and then Jon sighed. “You said you wanted to come here. You wanted to wake up and see me.”

There was absolutely no recollection of that, but she knew it was true. She could feel it—sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, the smell of pine and Jon, an old CD playing through the speakers because he was an old man. It was a feeling deep in her bones. An idea that Jon Snow was a version of home she couldn’t shake. If she was drunk and vulnerable, it didn’t surprise her one bit that all she wanted was to be in Jon’s apartment and get to wake up to see his face.

“I feel safe here,” she said. She wished his face was easier to read. “I’m sorry if I put you out, though. And I’m sorry that I probably ruined your night of sleep when you have to go to work.”

“You never put me out, Sansa.” He walked over to the couch, and with each step Sansa was pretty sure her heartbeat was turned up louder. When he was standing in front of her, he bent forward and gave her a kiss on the forehead. His hands lingered, the tips dipping into her probably greasy hair. “You’re welcome whenever.” Then, painfully, he took a step back and away. “I’ve got to go to work, but help yourself to whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” Her voice could not have been more than a croak, but she was grateful he didn’t say anything about it. “Have a nice day at work.”

He waved over his shoulder, and she watched his back as he left. By the door, for a brief moment, he paused. Then he rushed through, and she was all alone.


SANSA:

Sansa Stark is rescinding her friendship due to reasons of personal distress.

 

JAIME:

Does that mean she’ll still be arriving to work on time?

 

SANSA:

Sansa Stark will unfortunately still be arriving to work on time.

Sansa Stark needs money.


“I cannot fucking believe you,” Sansa yelled over the bar as Jaime finally arrived. A few of their regulars looked between them confused.

“My head still hurts,” he said. “That’s what happens when you get drunk and you’re old.”

“Fuck. You.” She held up her middle finger as Jaime slipped behind the bar to throw some of his belongings there as he went to check a few things.

“I was helping.

“By texting him weird things I would never say?” she asked. “You’re the worst.”

Jaime shrugged. “He picked you up, didn’t he? You’re welcome .

Sansa hated that she liked Jaime Lannister. That at some point she had genuinely let him become her friend. God, it would be so much easier to just let him go back to being her manager and nothing else.

“God, the actual worst, ” she repeated.

He laughed, and she hated him more for making her like him.


 

JAIME:

I had a dream last night about Brienne’s eyes. They were so blue I could step into them and swim. Not sure I’ll ever be able to think about anything else again.

 

SANSA:

that’s love bitch

also want to know something truly disturbing and distressing

 

JAIME:

spill the tea

 

SANSA:

1.I regret teaching you slang. 2. went to Bran’s apartment to see him and Meera MACKING on the couch 3. there were honest to god TAX FORMS!!! ON THE TABLE!! IN FRONT OF THEM!!!!

like

was that actually their foreplay. i’m scared

 

JAIME:

Is it weird to say I’m proud my employee is getting sex at least? I’m proud.

 

SANSA:

Tax !!!! FORMS !!!!!!

 

I am …. so alone

and so scarred


Not that it was the most surprising part of Jaime Lannister becoming one of her best friends, but it was surprising all the same, was that Sansa was starting to realize he was actually a pretty good person. He listened to his employees and genuinely cared. He loved his brother with a sort of ferocity that was incredibly endearing. When his niece had come in one afternoon, he had sat and listened to her talk all about her Art History degree like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard, nodding the whole time.

“Did you actually know what she was talking about?” Sansa asked later.

He shook his head. “Not a fucking clue, but she was so excited, wasn’t she?”

The fact that he was nice was harder to swallow than Sansa had expected, actually, because now she was quite legitimately starting to feel bad about the impression Brienne had been left with. Jaime was a tough pill, in all honesty. He could be rude without meaning to, he thought too highly of himself in a superficial way, but it was also a veil for a deep well of insecurity it was clear had been implemented in him all the way since childhood.

“Don’t get too excited,” Sansa said one day as she found him in the walk-in cooler counting inventory. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the chill acutely.

His head shot up, and she saw his reading glasses slip down his nose. It made it look like he was looking at her over them, judging whatever was about to come from her mouth.

“Well, I can’t know what it is I’m supposed to not get excited about until you tell me.”

Sansa was sort of already regretting this, really, but she couldn’t help she had grown so unbelievably fond of this stupid, ridiculous man slash manager in the last few weeks.

“You’re not going to ruin this, are you?” she asked.

“Again,” he began, his voice clipped and controlled, “I can’t know that until after you’ve told me.”

There was something at least a little enjoyable about messing with Jaime, but frankly the cooler was way too cold for her to continue to do it for much longer. “I sometimes go to see Brienne in her roller derby league on Thursdays.”

“She’s probably so good. ” He whistled, then seemed to remember he was in the middle of a conversation. “Tomorrow is a Thursday.”

“That is true. Would you like to join? We sometimes go out for food or drinks after, and if you promise not to be a complete idiot I will help you I swear.”

Sansa had expected Jaime to jump all over the suggestion, seem over-excited and joking like he did a lot of the time. He was prone to dramatics, quite frankly, which was fine as she sometimes was, too. They would despair over their restricted love like black and white movie stars seconds away from throwing a hand up to their forehead and collapsing on a settee. It was honestly sort of fun, but now, standing in front of Jaime, she could tell that this wasn’t just a joke to him.

Some part of  him really did like Brienne, what he knew of her and had learned through Sansa, and he was truly saddened by the idea that Brienne hated him. She didn’t know who he was, but she thought his honor was nonexistent, his morals low. There was something rather depressing about one of the people you thought most of in the world thinking little of you.

“Will you, I don’t know, please help me not mess this up?” Jaime asked. “I don’t want to go and ruin her night.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, trying to play it light. “You won’t. I know Brienne better than a lot of people, and I swear if anyone can help turn her opinion it’ll be me. Now, I’m going back to the bar it’s fucking cold back here.”

She didn’t move quite yet, though, first she held out her pinky toward him. He rolled his eyes back, flung it off with a scoff, but he reached out his pinky to wrap it around hers anyways. Then, Sansa got the hell out of the freezing cooler.


JAIME:

what color works best with my eyes?

 

SANSA:

blue

...

did i answer that way too fast

 

JAIME:

<3


They got to the rink early, with enough time to grab beers and a few snacks and sit up close. The women from both teams were warming up, and when Brienne skated out from the back room Jaime grew tense beside her for a minute. Then he relaxed, took another drink from his beer, leaned back.

“Her thighs are like actual tree trunks,” he said with a sort of awe Sansa could not understand associated with the words.

Brienne waved over, a little confused with Sansa’s guest, but she waved all the same.

“Tree trunks?” Sansa asked.

“I mean it as a compliment,” Jaime replied. His eyes were following Brienne move around the course. Her body was powerful, strong, elegant. It moved with enough precision to take anyone down and make it seem as if she hadn’t been trying.

“I don’t think most women would take that as a compliment.”

“She’s a force of nature, ” he explained. “It’s like she’s not even human. How is that not a compliment?”

Sansa brought a hand up to her brow, pushing down on the crease that was forming there. She really did not know how to describe to Jaime that his compliments seemed more like insults, but the fact that he truly did seem in awe of Brienne was encouraging. She leaned back in the squeaky fold up chair, and she decided she wanted to try to help him if she could.

The game moved quickly, and while Sansa always enjoyed watching the teams play, it was nearly more fun to watch the way Jaime would lean in. He cheered and clapped. At times he even called out Tarth! with a sort of proximity that felt more like friends than random acquaintances. Brienne didn’t seem deterred, shooting over a confused smile the first time but afterwards seeming to lean into it.

“She’s incredible,” Jaime whispered to Sansa close to the end of the game.

Brienne was speeding past a few players, hitting them with her hip and another falling to her side as she tried to push fast. There was something about her here that was incredible, like the power and strength she inhibited was meant to be hers and only she knew how to properly wield it.

“Come on,” Sansa said, tugging him away.

They waited out in the parking lot, finishing off the last of their freshest beers as they stood where the changing rooms let out. The parking lot was a bit busy as people filtered in and out. A few groups were smoking cigarettes as they chatted about the game. Jaime looked put together from the waist up—his face controlled, nonchalant—but his legs shifted from side to side.

Sansa reached out and clasped his wrist. He stopped moving. “Hey,” she began, “just chill. If she can see the version of you I see, then she’ll like you.”

He brought a hand up to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it between his fingers. “And what’s that? A washed up 30-something? I don’t even know how to begin to compliment her properly.”

“You are washed up. And kinda a dumbass. Really, you’re right,” Sansa teased. His face was downtrodden, and she shook his arm until he looked at her. “You have a good heart, it’s just hidden under like seventeen layers of sarcasm and ill-thought out words. I don’t hang out with losers.”

“I used to say that too, but then…” he trailed off, raising a brow at her. She laughed, pushing him away, and before she could throw another insult back Brienne was appearing from between the doors.

She stopped in front of them, her equipment bag flung over her shoulder. Her cheeks were pink, and there was a gleam of sweat still on her skin. Hair slicked back, though, one could see fully how alive she felt just from her face.

“You played great,” Sansa began, hitting her shoulder into Jaime’s who was apparently still struggling to find words.

“That was like nothing else I’ve seen before,” he added.

Brienne looked between the two of them, a bit of suspicion on her face. “I didn’t realize you were coming with her. Usually she drags along Arya or Jon.”

Sansa nodded in agreement. “Theon used to come but he is no longer allowed since the one time he got too drunk and tried to climb over the railing,” she shared, though she wasn’t sure Jaime was actually paying attention to her any longer.

Jaime shrugged. “She thought it would be something of interest to me.”

“A woman more durable than a bear skating around a rink?” Brienne asked, raising a brow. Her voice had an edge of ice. “I thought you might prefer spending your free time around your bar picking up more of my clients.”

Sansa could feel Jaime cringe beside her, but he didn’t back down.

“Out there?” he asked. “That was… something else. Magic. You were the single best player.”

Her words stumbled slightly, and her face was confused. “You’ve never seen people play before.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have to. I know they couldn’t compete with you. It was incredible.”

Brienne picked up the strap of her bag as her eyes found their way to the ground, moving it to her other shoulder. By the time she had looked up again, her features were composed. “The team is going to a bar nearby. Would you like to join?” She turned her eyes to Jaime. “Both of you?”

Jaime bit back a smile, and it somehow turned into a smirk. Brienne rolled her eyes, and Sansa jumped between the two of them to loop her arms through as they walked back to their cars. “We’d love to.”


 

SANSA:

so …

 

BRIENNE:

what?

 

SANSA:

you were still hanging with jaime when i had to gooooooo

 

BRIENNE:

he bought me a beer.

 

SANSA:

THIS TELLS ME NOTHING BRIENNE. DO NOT HOLD OUT ON ME.

 

BRIENNE:

it was a good beer??

 

SANSA:

dakdjflas

you have ruined this for me


It really should have felt weirder to bring her 36-year-old manager to a game night with her family and friends, but it was pretty natural, actually. Jaime already knew some of them, anyways, and he had a sort of cheerful, juvenile energy that fit in well enough. Sansa had promised to not leave him hanging when they were on their way over, and it meant the first few games she held onto him to keep him on her team.

During a lull between games Jaime had disappeared into the kitchen to get drinks, and Sansa was fairly sure she could hear him arguing with Robb about some dumb action movie. Given the absence, Sansa leaned toward Brienne.

“I know we’re not in middle school or whatever,” Sansa half-whispered, waiting for Brienne to tilt her head toward her before continuing, “but he really likes you.”

Brienne’s eyebrows crashed together. “ Jaime? Surely you mean as a sort of casual acquaintance?”

“Unfortunately, no. I mean as a potential romantic partner sort of like.”

“Jaime?” she repeated. “Lannister? The pretty boy in the kitchen currently talking to your brother and Jon?”

Sansa whipped her head around. “He’s talking to Jon?” Sure enough, the three of them had gotten fresh beers but were still in deep conversation. What were they talking about? Sansa couldn’t begin to imagine where their talk had shifted, but maybe they were still talking about movies? They all had the same sort of taste, probably. “Wait, not the point.”

Brienne did not seem any more convinced than when Sansa had begun. “The point being?”

“He bought you beers. He came to your game.” Brienne’s face did not change with understanding. “Romantically, he would definitely like to pursue you,” she tried. Sansa worked her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried to read Brienne’s face. Her eyes were as open as always, and she could see a sense of vulnerability there. Sansa hated that Brienne’s default was to think this was a joke, that she wasn’t worthy of affection, perhaps. “Is that something you would be interested in?”

“I don’t know,” Brienne said. “I thought I had him pegged, but if you’re friends with him I must have missed something. He was perfectly pleasant after the game. Well, that might be a bit far, but he was fun enough.”

“I hate to say it,” Sansa began. “Honestly, like two months ago I would have been the last person to say it, but he’s a good guy. I think he just isn’t used to people seeing it, so he gives them what they expect. He’s working through a lot of shit still.”

Brienne hummed. “Aren’t we all.”

Sansa shrugged. “Might be worth a shot?”

Brienne’s face was filled with indecision, oscillating between disbelief and confusion. Before she opened her mouth again, Jaime himself appeared and happily plopped himself between their bodies. There was little to no room for him there, so the three of them were left in close proximity, and Sansa shifted further away.

“Your boy is more interesting than I predicted,” Jaime said after a swig of his beer. He held one in his other hand he had seemed to forget about. “Oh, here Sansa. Your drink.”

Sansa took it. “Thanks.” She caught Brienne’s eye, not sure if it was a plea for her to leave or stay, so she went with the prior in a hope for them. “I’m just gonna…”

She took off toward the bathroom as quickly as she could manage, hoping for the best with the situation she left behind.


Jon’s car smelled the same way it always did. It was comforting, a sort of feeling Sansa was sure she could sink right into. His hands seemed tense on the wheel, though, and she couldn’t understand exactly what was happening on his face. He had offered to drive her home after game night, but he was being bizarrely quiet.

“Did I… do something?” Sansa asked. “You haven’t said anything since I got into the car.”

Jon sighed, and the action seemed to soothe his body some. “I’m sorry. No, you haven’t done anything.”

“You seem tense.”

“Not tense, I just…” Jon cleared his throat, and while his body had relaxed his eyes were still trained straight forward on the road. It was clear he was determined to not look over at her. “Are you and Jaime dating?”

Sansa choked on her own spit, and the sound was something between a gasp and a cough. He looked over, forehead creased with concern, before darting his eyes back to the road.

“Oh yeah, me and my 36-year-old manager who once texted you the word zaddy are dating. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s fine if you are, I mean…”

“Jon!” Sansa exclaimed, feeling the ridiculousness of this conversation wash over her. Here was the man she was actually interested in thinking she was interested in the man she talked about Jon with. “That was a joke. Sarcasm, I’m sure you’ve heard of it?”

His lip twitched up at the edge. “Once or twice.”

“We’re not dating,” Sansa said with a final nod. She turned her eyes back to the road because looking at Jon was doing weird things to her chest. “He’s super into Brienne, by the way. We became friends because I was trying to help him through his pining.”

“Oh,” Jon said. “ Oh.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Yeah.”

“I probably should have noticed that.” One of his hands came off the wheel, and after running a hand through his hair, it fell to the armrest. “He said…” Jon’s jaw tightened.

“He’s really stupid, I’m sure whatever he said was pure dumbassery.”

Jon cleared his throat. “Yeah, nevermind. It was nothing.”

“Okay,” Sansa said with a nod, though it was clear there was still something hanging around in the car. It was strange, nearly heavy, but she couldn’t begin to understand what it might be. “Do you want to do a movie night just you and me? Soon?”

His smile was genuine. Sansa felt it straight through her chest. “Yeah, I’d love to.”


ARYA:

can you and your old man friend pls no longer sadly camp out on our couch

it’s like a huge mood killer

I wanted to bone my boyfriend and you were both like … laying there dejectedly

 

SANSA:

wow. way to insult me and remind me i don’t have love all in one go

 

ARYA:

yeah cause the hanging out on the couch is really gonna help change that

 

SANSA:

RUDE!!!!!!! PLS BE KINDER TO MY SWEET, GENTLE HEART

I … sad.

pls god let me bone too

 

ARYA:

god might be busy. Just text jon “pls bone me” and see what happens.

I wouldn’t recommend your old man friend doing that tho

Brienne would crush him between her fingers

Wait tell him to do it!! But make sure someone is videotaping!!!

 

SANSA:

stop pretending you don’t know his name is jaime

and that you two didn’t spent a half hour talking about weird, famous boxers while i was in the shower the other day

 

ARYA:

old man friend is kinda cool

he’s still a total mood killer tho


Sansa rushed into the bar, knowing she was almost fifteen minutes late, but it was still early, and she was pretty sure Jaime would barely notice. She was a little surprised to find he didn’t care because Brienne was already sitting at the bar, and he was leaning over it to talk to her.

Catching her breath, Sansa hung up her coat and moved behind the bar to throw her purse in the small alcove she always did. Neither of them looked up. Was this really happening? She stepped closer, the two noticing her seemingly at the same time.

“Hey,” Brienne said, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. Well that was interesting. “Pod cancelled on me for dinner so I thought I’d come hang out here for a while.”

“Sweet. My day already got better,” Sansa said. She turned toward Jaime, raising a brow. “I just need your help with an hours thing in the back first?”

Jaime looked confused, but he followed her anyways. When there was a door between the two of them and the front of the bar, Sansa turned toward him and poked his chest.

“You have been keeping things from me, haven’t you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Brienne came here early ,” Sansa said. “She’s willingly talking to you. When did this happen?”

“You might not recall, but you actively helped this happen. I’m not entirely sure why you’re suddenly surprised.”

Sansa sighed. She had actively helped this whole thing happen. It wasn’t even that she thought it was impossible, but it had happened much quicker than she anticipated. Maybe it was that she had gotten so used to the ambiguity, the idea that the two of them would be pining forever, that any movement in a productive direction felt unreal.

Because at the base of it, if there really was something going on with Jaime and Brienne, then that meant there was the realer possibility that something could happen with Jon and her. Maybe she had been blocking herself this whole time. No, though, she could still remember those words Jon had said a million years ago about her being like his sister.

Jaime had the chance to step out of his longing, potentially. Sansa would be stuck in hers, just more alone now. It hurt.

“Hey,” Jaime began, stepping closer. He cupped her upper arms, looking down at her with a smile that did help to push away the darkness that was ebbing in her chest. “I know that look.”

“What look?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

His lips curved up with fondness, a shake of his head following. “You’re getting all stuck in your head, and now you’re trying to throw it away. You should talk to Jon Snow, you know. It might not be all that you think it is.”

There were things Sansa wanted to say—how could you know?, It is and what’s the point., I’m happy for this possibility—but she didn’t know how. Not in that moment, looking at this person who had become such an unexpected friend she almost didn’t know how to hold it. She had known this year was going to be weird with her life shifting, but she wasn’t sure she would have made it through as easily without Jaime. Or, at the very least, she wouldn’t want to.

“I’m a great wingwoman, obviously I understand how Brienne would start talking to you, but the real problem is I’m not sure how you got her to stick around.”

He let out a short breath accompanied with a laugh. “Honestly, half the time we spend arguing, but I think in a good way? Like a banter way? She hasn’t stuck around entirely, yet.” His face looked happy, soft and sort of surprised. Then a bit of darkness crept in. “I could still ruin this any moment.”

Sansa puffed out a breath. “Nah,” she said with a shrug. He gave a small smile back to her. “I think you’ll be alright.”


JAIME:

I just had sex with the woman of my dreams.

I’m honestly not sure I’m awake or alive.

Oh my fucking god it was so much better than any of my dreams because it was real, and she’s lying in bed next to me right now asleep and like how can someone be so precious as they breathe.

Should I slip out of bed and go buy an engagement ring? Would that be too early?

Where are you. Something exciting actually happens in my life and you’re dead to the world.

 

SANSA:

BACK UP. WOW. I WAS ASLEEP.

you actually did it. you beat the odds i’m so

adjfalsdj

shook. truly shook.

 

JAIME:

Have you ever felt like you peaked in life but you’re totally fine with peaking in life because you feel truly alive for the first time?

 

SANSA:

no but i’m so happy for you i could scream

wait stop texting me go enjoy brienne in the calm of sleep

 

JAIME:

oh, i’m going she’s moving, i’m gonna try to get her to roll over and spoon me

Then I can truly die happy.

Wish me luck.

 

SANSA:

I hate youuuuuuuuu!!!!

(good luck)


SANSA:

you and jaime sitting in a tree

K I S S I N G

I don’t know which one of you i should warn about breaking the other’s heart more, but like I know you’d just kick his ass so.

 

BRIENNE:

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

 

SANSA:

see, this was why i was forced to become friends with jaime in the first place. you lack our appreciation of drama.

But like actually i’m really incredibly happy for you.

 

BRIENNE:

Me too. Thank you.

 

SANSA:

<3<3<3



SANSA:

movie night! moviE NIGHT! MOVIE NIGHT!!!

 

JON:

Perfect timing. Robb is out tonight come on over whenever.

 

SANSA:

I’ll come over soon. I’ll even pick up IPA’s with my better alcohol choices.

 

JON:

Imagine me rolling my eyes. I’m sure it’s not hard.


Jon opened the door in a t-shirt with his hair tucked behind his ears. It left his face on fully display, not hiding behind any hair, and Sansa sucked in a small breath. Hopefully, it wasn’t noticeable. He opened the door wider, reaching forward to grab the six pack out of her hand, and let her walk in.

“As a woman true to my word,” she began as she set down the rest of her bags and shrugged off her jacket, “I will let you choose the movie.”

“Die Hard?” She scrunched her nose, and he laughed. “Just kidding. I was hoping we could watch that new history documentary series?”

Sansa looked at him, a smile wide on her lips, and shook her head. Her red hair fell into her eyeline, the rest of it still spread down her back. “You really are a nerd, you know.”

“I’ve been told.” He disappeared into the kitchen to put the extra beers into the fridge, and Sansa went to the living room and fell into the couch.

She sunk into the cushions, and it was easy to remember how she had woken up after that drunk night however long ago. There was something comforting about waking up to Jon’s voice. What would it be like to have actually woken up in his bed? Jaime had been in complete disbelief to share a night with Brienne, and Sansa’s heart clenched thinking about it for herself.

He walked into the living room, falling into the couch next to him, and she wanted him. She had in some way or another for almost half her life. Would that ever end? Or would it just be this strolling on forever. His eyes were on the television—controller in one hand, beer in the other—and he didn’t even know the dilemma going on in her head right now.

Without giving it too much thought, she reached forward and took the controller from his hand. When he turned to look at her, his brows were raised in question.

“Am I really as good as a sister to you?” she asked. His confusion grew. “I heard you that one time with Theon, and you said I’m as good as a sister to you.”

“You’re family, Sansa,” he said, though his face was still shrouded in confusion. “I don’t… Did Jaime say something to you?”

Now, it was her turn to be confused. “He says lots of things to me. What are you talking about?”

“At our last game night, he mentioned something similar, but I didn’t think…” Jon trailed off before he turned his whole body toward her, knee bent sideways between them, and she could see the seriousness on his face take over. “Do you not want me to consider you a sister?”

She shook her head no, but any words seemed to be stuck in her throat with how close he was. Sansa turned her body toward his too, and now their legs were touching and it felt like they were looking directly into one another. He brought up a hand and tucked hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her clavicle.

“Jaime said at game night that you were convinced I thought of you as nothing more than a little sister. It had been a weird comment, and I wasn’t sure why he would bring it up at all. Then my mind spiraled, and I thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe it meant you two were actually talking about me.”

“That’s pretty much all we do,” Sansa said. “He talks about Brienne. I talk about you.”

He looked hopeful, his face opening up, and Sansa wasn’t sure she remembered how to breathe. Maybe she had never known. Thank god her body was keeping her alive.

“I’ve never thought about you as a sister,” he said. “Family, yes. Sister, no. I’m way too interested in kissing you for you to be my sister.”

Sansa couldn’t help herself after that. As soon as the words were out she was doing everything she could to get closer. His hand rose back up to the side of her face, and one of her legs was around his back to tug him in closer, and their lips were on one another’s. It was hungry but loving, the two of their lips moving in tandem. When Jon bit her lower lip just a little bit, Sansa thought she might just actually die.

“Just to be clear,” Sansa said as she pulled back. “I like you a lot. Romantically.”

Jon dipped forward, kissing a spot on her neck. “Good,” he whispered into the fragile skin there. He pulled back to give her a smile and he dipped forward to kiss her again, she could taste his smile. “I like you a lot, too. Very romantically. No going back.”

“I don’t want to watch your documentary,” she said, and he laughed as she pulled him down on top of her instead. She had waited to kiss Jon Snow for too long to be sidetracked by anything else.


SANSA:

hello i have found this bliss you speak of

jonathan snow and i have done it and i transcended to a new level of being

i am a new woman

 

JAIME:

His name isn’t actually Jonathan, is it?

 

SANSA:

I somehow get my childhood crush, the hottest man I know, to sleep with me AND want to pursue a relationship and you're stuck on NAME SEMANTICS.

wow, brienne is already wearing off on you. domesticity has ruined you

 

JAIME:

Please, take that back.

Domesticity is all I live for. I was made to be a stay at home husband.

 

SANSA:

that’s not how it works.

 

hey. can you believe we no longer have to be pining pals?

we like …. actually did it

 

JAIME:

I’m proud of us.

 

We’re still friends, though, right?

 

SANSA:

Of course.

it would make work awkward otherwise, that’s the only reason

I don’t actually like you

 

JAIME:

Yeah, obviously same.

<3<3<3

 

SANSA:

<3<3<3