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Theon watches as Robb dances around with the noble girls who have filled Winterfell following the King's visit. If he had to guess, he would say they were from the Westerlands, distant cousins of the Queen who hoped to push themselves onto a higher station.
As he watches how Robb twirls one around high in the air, he sees her freckled face. Maybe she was from the Riverlands then, he had heard that each daughter of the Old Frey was more freckled than the last. But from what he had heard, those girls had mousey-brown hair; this one had black.
As the dance ends, he sees Robb put the girl down, and the way he blushes when she whispers something into his ear. With the way that she pushed herself into Robb, he could just imagine what she was saying to him.
He wonders, hopes that Robb would take her back to the chamber they shared. By the looks of it, Jon is getting hammered and would probably fall asleep right where he is, so there’s no worry about him interrupting, and Robb would know that Theon would stay away if asked.
But Robb wouldn't ask, because that would mean that he was up to something he shouldn't be and that wouldn't be proper for the future Lord of Winterfell to act like. He would, however, give Theon a look and, in turn, receive a nod, an agreement of plausible deniability for both of them. Theon would know to stay away, and Robb would know that nobody would ask after him for some time. He didn't know if women had the same system in place, but it didn't really matter in the end.
However, that didn't mean he couldn't come back a bit too early. Open the door, pretend to be apologetic when he would find his friend half-naked with the girl. Maybe he would get lucky and catch them mid-act, see the way Robb's muscles twisted and moved while he rutted against the girl, hear her excited moans as Robb touched her skin. If he plays his cards right, Theon could even take the girl for himself right after Robb was done, touch and kiss her where the Stark had done so too, moments earlier.
If he wasn't and caught them after the act was done, he could ask Robb about it. Hear him boast how the girl had squealed and squirmed in pleasure when he had taken her. It wouldn't be the same as watching it with his own eyes, but there could be a certain pleasure found in hearing Robb talk filthy.
He thinks about it as he watches the girl subtly lead Robb out of the hall. No one notices them as they walk away. Lady Catelyn and the Queen were too busy glaring at the King, drunkenly pawing at some serving wench, while Eddard Stark watched with a look adjacent to shame.
No one notices Theon following Robb and the girl a few minutes later, either.
***
Theon takes his time walking towards the chamber he shares with Robb and Jon. It wouldn't do to arrive too early after all and reveal himself when the couple barely had time to get out of their breeches, but he didn't want to be too late either.
Finally, he stands before the door. It's made of a few solid planks of oak, and Theon knows that it does its job well in keeping the warmth in, as well as any sound the inhabitants of the room might make. Which means that Theon wouldn't know if he came too early unless he walks in and reveals himself.
He knows he doesn't have to do this, that he could just turn around and walk back to the banquet. He could find himself another girl, untouched by the wandering hands of his friend, but he knows he can't. It wouldn't be the same.
Theon takes a breath to steel himself and wishes he had taken a cup of wine with him when he had left the banquet. Maybe then he would have more courage. He strains his ears to see if he can hear any moans, but all that does is make him aware of the blood throbbing in his head.
Still, he puts his hand on the door handle and pushes the door open.
***
What he finds somehow doesn't surprise him as much as it disappoints him. Robb lies in his bed, already dressed in a linen shift, reading the book Luwin had assigned them that morning. There's a fire smoldering in the chimney; Theon walks over to it, gets on his knees, and puts more kindling into it.
"Back so soon?"
Despite the close warmth of the fire, Theon still feels a shiver run down his spine - and he knows it's not from the cold.
"There wasn't anything that suited my tastes there." He answers simply, hoping that was enough to deter Robb from asking further questions. Unfortunately, no such thing happened as he hears Robb snort.
"Oh, please. I saw the way those southern girls looked at you; if you asked, you could have had any one of them."
Theon could hear the grin in Robb's voice, but it was twisted with something foreign. He wondered if Robb might have been rejected by the girl who had led him away, but that didn't make much sense.
"What about you?" He deflects, wondering if he was going to have to deal with a sulking Starkling. He had hoped to find Robb in high spirits, eager to brag about his exploits rather than wallowing in self-pity because a pretty girl had rejected him.
"What about me?" Robb echoed, confused.
Holding back a sigh, Theon stands up and turns towards the bed. He really doesn't want to play any guessing games with Robb, and now that the excitement from earlier had turned into disappointment, he just wants to go to bed.
"Please. You left with that freckled girl." He walks towards the drawer that holds his clothing. Rummaging through it, he hears Robb moving around on his bed and tries not to think about the way he would have moved if the girl from earlier was still with him.
"So?"
"So why are you here, all alone?" He tries to not imagine gentle hands wandering down his friend’s back, possessive hands that turn grasping and clawing, leaving red marks behind.
"No reason. We're going hunting with the King tomorrow. Wanted to be well rested." Robb answered quickly - too quickly, in Theon's opinion.
It wasn't often that the Stark heir lied, but Theon knew that that's what he was doing right now. It sounded too practiced, too unnatural, the words falling from Robb's lips like he had thought about them a thousand times. He knew that Robb couldn't care less about the hunt tomorrow; with the way the King had been drinking, the hunt may as well have been cancelled.
"Please, you really think the King will care if anyone is well rested tomorrow or not? All he cares about is finding a warm bed." Theon took off his doublet, throwing it into the hamper the servants would collect later. He turns towards the bed, enjoying the slight chill on his naked skin before the warmth of the fire washes over him - and laughs at the exasperation visible on Robb's face.
"Watch your mouth, Theon. He's our King; you'll do well to treat him with respect." Robb speaks in the voice that reminded him so much of Eddard Stark. He smiles at that, knowing it would only annoy his friend further.
"Oh, will I? I'm sorry, my Lord, I didn't know," he says, bowing down and giving an apologetic smile that vanishes almost instantly as he laughs.
"… Sure." He heard Robb answer and looked up at him. Skin that usually stood out in contrast with his auburn hair was speckled with red, and for a moment, Theon wondered what had made Robb so flushed.
As the silence stretched further, he saw how Robb wouldn't look him in the eye, and he smiled, an idea springing to his mind.
"So…" He started saying, baiting Robb into looking at him again. It worked immediately.
"So what?" Robb asked, his blue eyes piercing Theon - and for the first time, Theon couldn't readily recognise the emotions hiding in those eyes.
"You didn't answer my question." He said, knowing that it would only irritate his friend further. But instead, a strange look came over Robb's face - Theon could for the first time clearly see the Lord Stark he would become. It made something weird tingle down his spine.
"And what was your question?"
"Don't be…" He started saying before he caught Robb's gaze. There was something dark and heady in it, and Theon longed for it to stay on him. He hummed, his throat dry, before continuing. "My lord, I was wondering why you're here, all alone, when you left the banquet with that southern maiden." He said it in a high and cloying voice, one that always made the younger Starklings laugh.
"I was walking her to her chambers. She was tired," Robb answered immediately, his voice more confident than before, as if it was clear to him the rules of the game that they were now playing. Theon wished he'd know the rules too, but he dare not ask lest it spoil the fun.
"Sure, and did you walk her to her bed too?" He asked in quick succession, the cloying tone gone from his voice as he imagines Robb pushing into the girl. Robb was always so polite, so caring; he'd probably let the girl take her pleasure before he took his. Theon wondered what it would take for him to become selfish.
"Theon! That is improper," Robb said, irritation clear in his voice and the heady look gone from his eyes. It disappointed Theon, but it also meant he could try again. He had already made the proper heir stay up way past the time he should have been abed, even if that had been an excuse.
"Oh, is it, my lord? I am so sorry, I didn't know." He watches intently as the flush that had been present on Robb's face before came back. His friend’s cheeks are rosy from embarrassment, and Theon wonders briefly how he could make Robb's whole body flush like that.
There's a silence between them, as Robb seems to become aware of the fact that Theon hasn't put on a shirt. He looks away first, leaning back on the bed as if he were going to sleep. As if Theon would let him get away from this conversation.
He looks at the sleeping shirt he had taken from his drawer and decides not put it on just yet; instead, Theon walks towards Robb's bed and sits on it, still leaving some distance between them in case his presence was truly unwanted.
It had been years since the last time they had slept in a bed together; they weren't young boys after all, but almost men grown. He looks over to where Robb is still pretending to ignore him, and heaves a sigh.
Drowned God only knew how dramatic Starks could be.
"So nothing happened, that's fine," he says, laying his hand on Robb's thigh and pushing at it to get his friend's attention. It was a bit disappointing that Robb hadn't used the feast as an opportunity to have a little fun, but it wasn't surprising; he had always been a stick in the mud when it came to doing what was expected of him.
A tiny snort came at that and then…
"Well…"
"’Well’, what?" Theon asked immediately, honing in like a dog that had caught the scent of something particularly interesting.
"She kissed me." Robb said, almost breathlessly, as if that had been his first kiss and that he couldn't believe he had given it to some noble girl he had just met instead of his Lady Wife.
"Oh?"
"And she kept kissing me and… I kissed her back." Robb continued saying, his voice becoming more airy and dreamy as he went on. Theon wondered why; how skilled must the girl have been to charm his friend so? It made his mouth dry, and his hands itch. He wanted to go and find the girl immediately.
"Oh well, that is truly so improper, my lord, what will the King think?" he says instead, trying and failing to make his voice as cloying as it was before. Instead, he sounded breathless.
"Don't be an ass,Theon," comes Robb's immediate answer. Of course, Robb, the proper heir, was more focused on semantics.
"Fine, so you kissed, what's the big deal?" he asked, looking Robb over. His friend didn't look at him, eyes focused on the fire that glowed in the hearth. Theon saw how he bit his lip while thinking. "Did you fuck her?"
"No!" Robb yells, his face pale as he looks in shock at Theon.
"Why not? She wanted you." He says it like it's the simplest thing. "It's not like you don't have the access to prevent any mishaps," he continues, thinking of the tansy and pennyroyal he had seen in the glass gardens. On their own, they could be used for different tinctures and potions, but together they made moon tea, and someone who knew how to brew it properly could be of great help.
"It's not right." Robb answered simply, as if there was no reason to consider the matters of pleasure when the consequences could be avoided.
"Oh, I'm sorry, my Lord, it's not right to fuck a woman who's begging you for it?" Theon said, already imagining the way Robb's eyes would blaze at his words, "I feel pity for your future wife."
"I would fuck my wife, but I'm not going to risk a bastard on some girl."Robb exclaims, his eyes furious, and for a moment, he looks so similar to his bastard brother. If Theon remembered correctly, Jon had said something similar earlier at the banquet.
"Oh, please, how can you fuck your wife when you can't even fuck some girl?" The words come out without a thought, shocking even Theon for a moment before he focuses once again on Robb.
"You do know how to fuck, right?"
"Watch it, Theon… of course I know how." Robb says, annoyed. Theon knows there is a line he shouldn't cross, but he can't help pushing at it.
"Oh, really, my lord?" His voice is honey, warm and rich, a laugh lingers on his tongue, and he knows it will further irritate Robb.
"Yes, really."
"Well, if you really did know how to fuck, my lord, you wouldn't be alone here." Instead, Robb would have been with that girl, making her squeal and sigh.
"I'm not alone!"
At that, Theon stops laughing as Robb lunges at him. They tumble to the floor, all limbs and teeth and knees. Theon feels the cold floor on his back, and the gasp he lets out turns into a groan of pain when he feels Robb fall on top of him.
They lie face to face, limbs entangled, and Theon can't stop thinking about all the places they touch, skin to skin. He wants to enjoy that brief moment of sensation, but before he can truly bask in it, it's gone.
"I'm sorry." Robb says as he uses his hands to push himself off of Theon, and he can only watch as he sees Robb's muscles tense under his linen shift.
"It's okay." He says, and continues lying where he had fallen, looking up at Robb, who at first looks at him with that heavy gaze before it turns into concern.
"You should… You should probably get to bed; the floor is cold."
Theon lies there on the floor, with Robb's own bedsheets covering him. He wonders what kind of image he makes before the Stark, as his blue eyes rake over Theon. Finally, when it seems that Robb has drunk his fill, he snaps out of whatever mood had overtaken him and puts his hand out to Theon to help him up.
Later, when Theon has finally washed up and dressed for bed, Robb invites him into his own bed, with the excuse that Theon's own was much too cold to fall asleep in.
They lie face to face, and while Theon knows that he will return to his own bed once Robb's breath has evened out, he still stays and looks at him. Imagines the soft kisses he must have traded with the girl who had accompanied the Queen. He closes his eyes and can almost imagine soft lips pressing against his own.
"Why did you ask?" he hears Robb say, and he opens his eyes to see his friend staring directly at him.
"What?"
"Why did you ask after Elysa?" Robb says, as if that's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Who?"
"The girl."
Theon shrugs; if asked, he doubts he would be even able to recall what she had looked like. It didn't really matter either, he supposed. In a month's time, she would be gone, away back south with the King and Queen.
"I was just curious; you two seemed to get friendly during the dance." And more than friendly with the way she had whispered to him, and wasn't that something. Theon should have asked after that, but it was too late for that now.
He watches, mesmerized, as Robb blushes at his words and looks away.
"We did, but that doesn't answer why you asked after her - or why you came back so early."
"Maybe I just didn't want you to do something stupid and father a bastard on some girl, like you said."
He wants to say it like a joke, a mockery of the words that Robb had used to defend himself with, but they come out much softer.
"Maybe," Robb says, and for a moment, Theon lets himself believe that that's where the conversation will end. Tomorrow they will laugh together, at the girl, at their late-night conversation, and whatever else they will find amusing.
"Or maybe you wanted to be the girl I would father a bastard on." Robb’s words shock him out of the calm that had settled over him, and he can't help but laugh when he sees his friend's wry smile.
"Oh, I think the summer is getting to your head, Stark."