Work Text:
He was frustrated and stressed. Standing over their dinning room table that was now covered with documents and papers that established the makings of his own security company. He was re-reading a contract that his partner and long time friend Bronn, had come up with. Sandor closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair and let out a aggravated sigh.
That got her attention, Sansa was sitting on their couch casually scrolling through her phone while waiting for the commercials to be over so she can return to her favorite show. She turned slightly to see her husband standing there, frustrated and undoubtedly stressed. She put her phone to the side and held out her arms to him. “Sandor.” her voice soft and warm. However, Sandor didn’t move. He kept his face down, staring at the paper, the burnt side of his face was on full display aside for some of strands of dark brunette hair that he kept on that side that tried to cover the scarred tissue. Sansa dropped her arms and looked around for a pillow. Once she found one she grabbed it and threw it at him, hitting him in the face.
Sandor was blindsided, the pillow brought him back to reality. “Fuck, what?” His voice thick and gruff. Turning in the direction to the where the pillow had been thrown he saw his wife, smiling holding back her laughter. Her red hair shinning and her smile seemed to grow bigger. There is only one person Sandor could never be mad at, and that was Sansa. She could’ve thrown a cinder block at him and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. When they made eye contact he felt guilty. He looked away and frowned.
“Sandor” her voice came again. This time he heard her and looked back at her. The smile she wore said that she understood. He wasn’t mad at her for throwing the pillow but with the work load that came with starting a company from the ground up. This magnificent woman seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to him. Sandor had never been a man of many words, his actions spoke louder. He never had to explain anything, she just knew somehow. From their very first date, he believed her to be a witch. Even though she denies it, he still believes it to be true.
“Little Bird. I-“ he started to say, paper still in hand. Sansa had interrupted him. “Come here Sandor.” Her arms again reached out for him. His good brow furrowed, confused. “Little bird?” Sansa still kept her arms out. She was perched in the corner of their couch, her body engulfed in the afghan she knitted for him as a present from their first christmas together. It was a warm autumn yellow, with hounds and birds all around it. He loved it; he loved it even more when she was wrapped around in it. Sandor made his way towards her. Taking a seat next her. She frowned a bit, his confusion grew. “I said come here big man.” Sansa spread her legs, making room for him so he can sit between them. He didn’t say anything, he was bewitched and just followed her lead.
In a moment he was between her quilted covered legs, his back towards her. Her slender arms came around his shoulders to his neck, embracing him lovingly. Then she started to pull him back, but he stood his ground. “What in seven hells are you trying to do Little Bird?” He turned slightly so he can see her face. Sansa was still smiling, her hands made tiny circles between his shoulder blades. Gods it felt good to be touched by her.
Her eyes were focused on her hands for a moment, but then she looked up at him. Her dazzling blue eyes meeting his. “I’m trying to hold you.” Sandor stared at her, “I don’t need to be coddled like a child. I need to get back to this.” He lifted the paper towards her, shaking his head. One of her hands stopped moving along his back, and moved gracefully towards his bearded chin. She turned his face towards her and leaned forward to capture his lips with hers. She kissed him longly and with so much love that he moaned. She took the opportunity to grab the paper out of his hand. “Let me hold you.” She whispered against his lips.
Sandor tried to protest, she stopped him when she placed her index finger against his lips. “You are working so hard and I am so proud of you. You have always been there for me when I was over working myself like crazy. You know what helped me the most? When you would hold me, just.like. this.” As Sansa spoke the last three words she eased Sandor against her chest.
He didn’t fight it this time, again he was under her spell. His body moved on its own, laying down on the couch between his Little Bird’s legs. Sansa smiled and swiped away the hair that covered his scarred scalp and pressed a gentle kiss there before she nestled her chin on top of it. Sandor took a deep breathe, relaxing. He didn’t want to admit it but he needed this. He wanted to make her proud, to show her that he was working hard so that she would never have to if she ever chose to walk away from her job. For the fist time in his life he was fighting for something that wasn’t for himself and he did not want to fail. Her free hand that wasn’t clutching the paper glided over his chest sliding under his shirt so she could pet his chest hair. Her polished nails made the same small circles, mildly scratching him the way he liked. Sansa let out a small laugh when she heard him grunt in approval. Her other hand held up the paper and she started to read the contract that was bringing her husband so much stress.
The contract was a mess it definitely needed work. She let out a small laugh at the thought that her husband had lucked out on marrying a woman who majored in English and was now a high school teacher at one of the most prestigious schools in Kings Landing. “No wonder you are so stressed Sandor. Don’t get me wrong I love Bronn like a brother but his writing it’s… well, it needs a lot of work.” Sandor let out a laugh, after all these years she always kept her politeness. “It’s shit Little Bird, I wouldn’t put it past him if he wrote that last night when I told him I needed it no later than today.” Sandor rasped. Her fingers were still dancing under his shirt; one of Sandor’s hands crept up to catch it. Bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to her fingers. Sansa smiled at the display of affection, “Tomorrow I’ll edit it for you, make it pretty.” Sansa whispered.
She shifted a bit causing Sandor to start making his way to get off of her. Sansa quickly hooked her leg over him, causing him to stop. He grunted. “You don’t have to do that Little Bird, you have your own work to do.” Sansa pressed another kiss to his head, reaching for his shoulder to give it a squeeze. “I finished grading papers earlier before Ru Paul started, I’m free to help you.” She placed the paper on the table next to her. Sandor sighed, “Do I have to put you on my payroll too?” he questioned. Sansa kept up with her touching, a smirk forming on her perfect lips. “You can pay in sexual favors, how does that sound Mr. Clegane? I expect payment to start tonight since I already read the contract.” Sandor roared a mighty laugh. Titling his head to kiss her. He was at ease now.