I was challenged to attempt to write a modern au so here it is! Jon and Sansa isn't a pairing I've tried before but I love them so much that I'm giving it a try…
The club is hot, hovering at the border with discomfort, and she can feel a drop of sweat making its slow way down her back, slipping between her shoulder blades, almost sensuous in its leisurely progress. She's in a sea of writhing bodies, just another anonymous patron. The music is loud and blocks out any unpleasantly intrusive tendrils of consciousness.
She glances over at her companion, allowing her lips to twitch smugly for a moment as her younger sister twists in her boyfriend's arms before she turns away to give them their privacy. Surely that ought to be an oxymoron in such a crowded place but no one knows them here. No one knows their father… or their brother… or her ex… At that pleasant thought a smile spreads over her face and she continues to dance, liberated.
She can feel the whole length of his body against hers. They're pressed so close together it's almost impossible to tell where she ends and he begins. They move together and his hands are smoothing down her sides and resting on her hips, tracing circles with his thumbs. She is sure that every nerve ending is on red alert because she can feel each sweeping touch like it's being branded onto her skin.
Somehow she manages to press herself even further against him and she hears his answering moan rumbling against her back as they rock together on the dance floor.
The bass is pulsing through the floor, moving up through their bodies, the music wrapping around them and holding them together.
She feels a man come up behind her and rolling her eyes she prepares one of her patented brush offs. Before she can she catches the scent of his aftershave and hesitates. The man gently places his hands on her hips, drawing the two of the close together. But not so close that she feels uncomfortable. After all he is a gentleman.
As if sensing that she is wavering in her indecision he starts rubbing small circles onto her hips. She gasps at the sensation and finally relaxes fully against him.
The music has changed and the singer is crooning through the speakers. Breathy lines of lust and love.
She smells his cologne, spicy, masculine, and delightfully familiar.
As she turns around her eyes widen with the shock of recognition. He can imagine that there is a similar expression on his own face. It surely isn't normal to find yourself pressed against your cousin on a night out.
As she turns to move away someone pushes against her, she stumbles into him and they gasp as they are forced together in the crush.
It must have been the vodka he drank earlier because suddenly he can't remember why this is such a terrible thing.
Throwing caution to the wind he pulls her close and kisses her. It's more than anything he has ever experienced or imagined. She's warm and sweet and welcoming. So much more than he could ever have dreamed.
It's not as though they're bad people. It's not as though they're planning a life or a family together. It's not as though they're lying to anyone. They've already been together once, what difference could a second night make?
She makes the first move, turning in his arms and draping her arms over his shoulders, smiling up at him. He lowers his mouth to hers and takes her breath away. His arms are strong around her waist and make her feel safe while his hair is thick and soft to her questing fingers.
Her hair tumbles over his pillow, her dress lies forgotten on the floor along with his shirt. They kiss furiously on the bed, lost in sensation and desire and every single repressed feeling that has been bubbling beneath the surface for as long as they can remember.
As she gasps and moans beneath him for a heartbeat he wonders at what he is about to do and how he could even contemplate facing her father again. Then she opens her eyes and pulls him down to kiss her.
She is gone in the morning before he wakes up. The only evidence that she had been in his arms at all were the marks on his chest and the neatly folded shirt and trousers on the chair beside his desk.
They slip through the crowded club, he leads the way and she clutches his hand. After all the dark night conceals a multitude of sins and the fog secures their anonymity.
What harm could one more time do?
Thank you for reading! Feedback would be much appreciated : )