Work Text:
When Theon was a baby, Asha claimed his first word was “No.” Now if that was true or not, Theon didn’t really know and to be honest, he really didn’t care one way or another. One thing Theon did know for sure was that he was very good at saying “No.”
When less than desirable matches tried to pick him up at bars, Theon knew a thousand and one ways to tell them, “Sorry, sweetie, it ain’t going to happen.” When sweet little nine-year-old Sansa asked a fourteen-year-old Theon is he would be her first boyfriend, he let her down swiftly but gently, stating he had interests elsewhere as his eyes cast across the room to another red-headed Stark. When Arya, only eleven at the time, screwed up her face and asked Theon if he had anything better to do than sit around the Stark house all day and bullshit with Robb, Theon spelled the simple two-letter word out for her. When Bran asked if Theon ever noticed that Robb smiles so brightly whenever Theon was around, Theon had answered with stuttering denial and a silent question of what does that even mean? When Rickon asked if Theon and Robb were going to get married, Theon laughed, shaking his head with because it was easier than admitting that he’d actually quite like that even if they only just started dating two weeks prior. When Jon asked Theon if he would stop making out with Robb in every public space Jon walked into, Theon proceeded to peck little kisses of no all over Robb’s face until Jon left.
There was one person that caused Theon to falter with his typical “No” response and that was Robb. It wasn’t that Theon couldn’t say no to him, he did it often enough. It was just Theon had a harder time doing so. Maybe it was because they were fucking (“in love” as Sansa cooed) or maybe it was because they had been friends for years (“attached at the hip” as Jon sneered) or maybe it was because Robb was one of the only people who gave a damn about him (“obsessed with each other” as Bran, Arya, and Rickon groaned in unison), but Theon always hesitated.
Anyone else and Robb could ask the same exact question and Robb would always have a higher percentage of getting an answer of yes. Jon found out this little tidbit early on and couldn’t help but smirk when Theon would fold and say yes to whatever Robb wanted.
So really, Theon was quite hopeless on December 1st when Robb handed him a wrapped gift before they even had their morning coffee.
“Christmas isn’t for another couple of weeks, Stark,” Theon cocked a questioning eyebrow.
Robb shrugged. “It’s not a Christmas gift. Open it!”
Theon couldn’t say no to that shining smile and those big blue eyes. On the other hand, as Theon unwrapped the gift and saw the mess of fabric in his lap, Theon wished he had.
“It’s a sweater,” Theon remarked, holding up the thing by the edges. Really, sweater was a kind term for whatever the fuck was in his hands.
First of all, it was a stunning, blinding, violent red. Brighter and more electric than Theon thought possible for a red hue. The material was soft; Theon would give his boyfriend of three years credit for that, but the color. Theon might have even found the horrible sweater acceptable if it had been just a hideous red color…but no, there was more.
Literally, every single Christmas icon was smashed onto the damn thing. There were Christmas trees, snowflakes, reindeer, a Santa, ornaments, snowmen, wreaths, and mistletoes but most of all, right over the heart of the sweater, there is a little Christmas present with Theon’s name stitched into it. If he looked closely, Theon is pretty sure Robb’s name is also stitched on there but it is really difficult to tell.
“I made it,” Robb said carefully, keeping his eagerness and excitement down but at the same time, Theon could hear the nervous tremor. “Sansa and I were practicing.”
“Why?” Theon blurted out but quickly recovered with a, “I mean, I love it, but why?”
Robb scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, everyone else has a Stark Family Sweater and I thought you should have one and Sansa offered to have me make it so it would be…special.”
Oh, fuck. No matter how fucking ugly the thing is, Theon can’t get rid of it now. Fuck. It really is an awful sweater, but shit. Robb made it for him. Robb, who probably has better things to do than knit a sweater, spent the time and energy so Theon could be a part of the family. Fuck.
“I really love it,” Theon said with only a half-lie. He would never have worn the sweater if he didn’t know where it came from. He wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot-pole…but Robb made it.
“I’m so glad!” Robb smiled so brightly, it even rivaled the hideous red of the sweater. “Will you wear it to the Christmas party next week?”
Theon nearly choked. It was one thing accepting and keeping the sweater…it was another to wear it…in public. However, just like everything that involved Robb, Theon had a hard time saying no.
“Sure,” Theon smiled, setting the sweater aside quickly. And even as Robb kissed Theon happily and he offered to cook breakfast, Theon couldn’t help but feel dread fill his stomach. The sweater was a giant target on his back and the teasing would be ruthless.
The week to the Christmas party passed so rapidly, Theon almost forgot the sweater’s existence, except for the fact that the damn thing was so vibrant and flashy that it was hard to ignore it hanging in a closet filled with tasteful clothing. Not to mention it shined bright amongst the black and gray clothes.
Theon couldn’t help but feel like the Gods were messing with him, or maybe just trying to prove a point as Robb and he approached the old Stark house. While Theon had shoved himself in the heinous sweater, Robb was wearing his own Stark family sweater. Unlike Theon’s, Robb’s sweater was made by Catelyn Stark who had years of skill and well, Theon had a thing for Robb in that sweater and that was enough to be said. Theon knew, standing in front of the Stark house door, that he looked like a hot-mess train wreck and Robb looked like an angel from the heavens.
The party was just as bad as Theon expected it to be.
Jon went red in the face trying to keep his laughter at bay. Sansa patted Theon’s arms gently, smiling and saying, “It’s the thought that counts.” Arya just snorted, grinning evilly every time Theon passed on by. Theon was pretty sure Bran and Rickon had made a game out of the sweater but Theon at no actual proof to that one. Even Ned and Cat gave pitying smiles to Theon, although he could see them both keeping down chuckles and giggles. At least the other non-Stark guests seemed to be kinder. Ygritte told him Tormund had worn much worse things and on purpose. Gendry muttered something about hand-me-down sweaters from the thrift store. Margaery sent Theon a picture of Loras, Renly, and Stannis all in matching deer sweaters and hot chocolate mugs and it made Theon feel just a smidge better.
But just like Theon’s no’s, Robb was the only person not to see the sweater for how truly awful it was, just smiling and complimenting Theon at every turn. Theon would have found an excuse to take off the sweater at some point during the six-hour party but he couldn’t when Robb smiled oh-so-softly or came up behind him to kiss him on the cheek. It was the only reason Theon kept the thing on and took the torment.
He was oh-so-thankful when the night ended and Robb finally said his goodbyes to his family. Theon couldn’t get out of the house sooner.
“That was fun,” Robb started as they climbed into his car. “You had fun, right?”
Theon nodded his head slowly, not wanting to betray that the night would have been fantastic if it weren’t for the glowing red sweater. Seriously, did the thing have radiation? It was the middle of the night and Theon felt like a walking flashing light with it on.
“The sweater was a hit,” Robb continued and Theon bit back the groan. Did he really have to bring up the sweater? Now?
“There was lots of talk,” Theon responded honestly. Hey, he didn’t have to mention what type of talk.
They were at a red light and Robb turned to look at Theon. “You can take it off now.”
Theon blinked, trying to keep his face as straight as possible. “Why would I do that? I love it.” Okay, he had to admit, over the course of night, Theon had begun to sound less and less convincing.
Robb smirked and patted Theon on the knee as the light turned green and he continued driving on. “Don’t lie, I know.” He glanced over at Theon quickly. “I also lost twenty bucks.”
Now Theon was confused. “Excuse me?”
Robb shrugged. “Jon and I made a bet. He said you wouldn’t say no to me, no matter what I asked of you.” Robb made a vague gesture to Theon’s person. “Even if it meant wearing that.”
“You…you made a bet?” Theon hissed with no real heat.
Robb flushed. “I didn’t think you’d actually accept the sweater and wear it all night.” Robb gave Theon a weak, sheepish grin. “Seriously, when Rickon was six years old he made you that necklace and you ‘lost it’ the next day.”
“Yeah, well, he was six and got over it when we played hide and seek afterward,” Theon grumbled, a blush coming to his cheeks.
“You made Sansa cry when you wouldn’t wear the flower crown she and Jeyne had made when she was ten.”
“I wasn’t going to wear purple flowers in my hair!”
“What about when Jon’s soda exploded on you and your shirt got ruined and he offered for you to wear one of his?”
“Not even if I was in the middle of a snow storm with nothing on would I wear something from his gothic want-to-be closet.”
Robb hummed with a smile before adding, “But you’d wear my ugly ass sweater.”
“Well, you made it,” Theon snapped back before clamping his mouth shut. He quickly added in, “I’m dating you, I’m not going to piss you off for rejecting the ugly ass sweater. I still want to get laid.”
“Hmm,” Robb mused. “Sure.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Theon narrowed his eyes.
“Nothing,” Robb pulled up to their apartment and turned toward Theon. “You’re just still wearing the sweater.”
With a quick kiss on the cheek, Robb was out of the car. Theon fumbled with his seatbelt and quickly followed. “I better get reparations for this.”
Robb looked over his shoulder as he unlocked their front door. “You did say something about wearing it to get laid?” Robb cocked his head to the side coyly. “Come inside and collect.”
Oh, Theon would say yes to wearing that damn sweater every day of his life if it got Robb to smile that come-hither smirk.