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Jon remembers leaving the bar, drunkenly stumbling out the door after his friends tried to get him drunk.
Tried and succeeded, he grants as he sways on his feet on the side of the street.
He remembers hailing a cab to take him home. He remembers calling his girlfriend during the ride back and telling her how much he misses her.
“I miss you too,” she says mournfully, “Just three more months and we’ll be together back in Winterfell.”
“Too long a wait,” he mumbles.
“I know. I wish you were here,” she sighs out.
What he doesn't remember is telling the cabbie to take him to the bus station. Or getting on a four hour bus ride from White Harbor to King's Landing.
He sleeps through the entire thing.
You'd think that after four hours, he'd have sobered up when the bus driver woke him up, but nope.
He blinks at the guy in confusion. “Uhh…”
“You gotta get off, man. This is the last stop.”
He looks around him. All he can tell it's that he's on a bus that's parked on some station somewhere.
He tries to swallow but his throat is so dry. “Uh, sorry, but… where am I?”
The guy gives him a funny look. “You're in the Red Keep.”
Instead of shock, Jon's eyes brighten with joy. “I am?” He asks with a sudden grin. He doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he stands up and excitedly makes his way out of the bus.
Unfortunately, whatever liquor Tormund had him drinking must've been way too strong because he's definitely still drunk. The way he stumbles all the way out of the bus is proof of it.
Still, it doesn't deter his joy. He's in the south. Not only that but he's in the Red Keep.
That fact is not usually a source of joy, but right now it means Sansa. It means getting to hold his girlfriend - hug her, kiss her, touch her.
The thought spurs him to move. He has no idea how to get to her, but he'll do it if it's the last thing he does.
***
After nearly a year living in her condo, Sansa’s only gotten a call from the security desk a few times.
It was mostly noise complaints during the handful of times she had both Margaery and Loras over. But considering it's three in the morning and she's been asleep the whole time, she's not entirely sure why they'd be calling her now.
She groans as she makes her way out of the bed, muttering curses as she heads to the phone to pick up the call.
“Hello?” she answers grumpily.
“Uh, yes, hello, ma'am, is this Sansa Stark from apartment 604?”
She confirms it.
“Right, so, we have a Mr. Jon Snow here for you at the front desk? He says you know him.”
She frowns. “I’m sorry, did you say Jon Snow?”
What on earth? He can't possibly be here. He's got school tomorrow and then work after. Jon hates skipping out on his responsibilities.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She blinks a few times, trying to get her brain to wake up so maybe this all starts making more sense. “Are you sure? Long dark hair, grey eyes, scar above his eye?”
“Uh.” He pauses, presumably to double-check. “Yes, ma'am, that seems accurate.”
“Okay, I'll be right down,” she informs the guard despite her confusion.
“Hold on, ma'am, before you go - he didn't bring any identification with him -”
“Hey, that's not true,” a muffled voice corrects and it does sound like Jon. “I told you, some asshole kid on the street stole my wallet and my phone from me.”
The guard clears his throat. “He says you have a digital copy of his identification? If you intend to let him up, we'll need a copy of it.”
“Alright, yeah, yes. I'll be right down.”
She runs back to her room to grab her phone and a hair tie to quickly put her hair in a messy bun, then grabs her keys on the way out before rushing to the elevator. During the ride down, she checks to see if Jon sent her any message telling her he'll be heading south to see her and finds nothing of the sort.
And yet… there he is at the front desk, wearing the same thing she saw him in, posted from Sam's Instagram stories from hours ago.
“Jon?” She can't help but call out in disbelief because how is he here?
He turns to the sound of his name and a massive smile splits his face when he sees her. “Sansa,” he calls back happily.
Before she knows it, he's running to her, then he lifts her off the ground in a tight hug, She yelps when he starts to stumble, holding onto his shoulder in panic.
“Jon, what -”
“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles apologetically, “I did that smoother in my head.”
She snorts, still looking at him in disbelief. Before she can reply, he cups her face and pulls her into a kiss. Soft and slow and almost filthy, except she pulls back with a whine because they're in public - they're in the lobby of her condo and this is too much PDA.
“What the hell are you doing here? You told me you're on your way home.”
“I did,” he says with a chuckle. Then with a peck on her lips, he says, “Mission accomplished.”
Off to the side, the guard at the front desk clears his throat. “Ma'am, do you have his ID?”
She feels the heat climb up her face, realizing they're making a scene. “Right.”
She walks toward the desk with Jon trailing behind her, then opens her phone and taps on Jon's government ID from her files. The security guy takes a copy of it and asks Jon to sign something.
While waiting for all of it to be done, Sansa notices the other guy staring at her. She assumes it's because of all the commotion they've made, but then Jon suddenly tells him, “I told you, didn't I? She's a fucking goddess.”
Sansa lets out a noise of surprise, turning to her boyfriend with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. It only makes him chuckle, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “He didn't believe me when I told him,” he explains, waving a hand at the guy. “Now he does.”
“Oh my gods, you're so drunk,” she mutters. “Come on, let's get you to my place.”
She takes his hand and drags him to an open elevator. As soon as she steps in, he has her crowded onto the far end and he's kissing her like he's been starving for it.
She feels just as starved of him; she encircles her arms around his back and tugs him close, all her thoughts drifting until there's only Jon left.
It's been months since she's felt his body against hers, since she felt this warm with the heat of him, and it feels so good to have him in her arms again.
He kisses her until she's breathless and dark-eyed. Then he leans back and, in one smooth motion, grabs the back of his shirt and takes it off.
“Jon,” she squeaks out, “We're in an elevator.”
This seems to confuse him. He looks around uncomprehendingly before his gaze settles back on her. “We haven't gotten to your apartment yet?”
She laughs, nodding to the open door behind them. “You had me against the wall before I could even push the button.”
He huffs, turning slightly to push the sixth floor button. “Sorry about that,” he tells her with a cute pout before nuzzling against her neck. He lets out a contented sigh. “I've missed you so much.”
Her hands slide up his back, scratching at him lightly. “I can't believe you were about to strip inside an elevator.”
Just then, the door opens behind him and he pulls back from her.
"Strip, you say?" There's a mischievous glint in his eye as he slowly backs away and starts swirling his shirt over his head. “Which way is your apartment?”
“Left.” She giggles as she follows him out, shaking her head at the very not seductive sway of his hips. “I can't decide if I want to kill Tormund for getting you this drunk or send him a gift basket.”
He throws his shirt in her direction as he continues to walk backwards, then he starts undoing his belt.
“Jon, do not strip in my hallway,” she quickly commands.
He pauses in his movement, waiting for her to catch up before wrapping an arm around her waist and nibbling on her ear. “Where should I do it then?”
She keeps pushing him backwards until they finally reach her door and he wastes no time in taking off his pants as soon as she opens the door. She's only just locked the door when he grabs her by the waist and tries to carry her all the way to her bedroom.
As much as she would love for him to get his way with her, she knows he's drunk and she has to be smart for the both of them right now.
“Wait, wait, wait, put me down,” she demands and he immediately complies, albeit with a pout.
She ignores it and drags him all the way to the couch before handing him her phone. “Log into your bank account and cancel your stolen cards. And change the password to all your important accounts.”
He huffs but accepts her phone and gets started on it. Meanwhile, she heads to the kitchen to get him some water. She makes him drink and proceeds to watch him accomplish the rest of his task.
“All done,” he tells her once he hands her phone back, “There's nothing else then?”
She shakes her head and watches him stand up, his muscles flexing as he goes. Without warning, he lifts her off the couch and walks them to her open bedroom, dropping her gently on the matress before climbing in next to her.
He keeps shifting until his head is on her shoulder, her arm around his back, and their legs are twined under the blanket.
“Finally,” he sighs out in satisfaction, pressing a soft kiss against her collarbone. “I've been waiting to do this since I got off the bus and realized I'm somehow in the south.”
She smiles at this, turning to press a kiss to his forehead. “Why are you even here in the first place? You have a class in like two hours.”
“I don't know. I just remember you saying you wish I was here and so here I am,” he mumbles sleepily, already drifting off to sleep.