Robb is still not sure how it happened. Well no, that's not true; he knows how it happened, just not how he could have let it happen. Before he lets himself get too deep into the philosophical black hole that is figuring out how he allowed himself to be dressed in an emerald maxi dress and matching stilettos, he decides to point the finger at the arsehole that got him into this mess in the first place: Theon fuckin' Greyjoy.
"Well somebody's looking easy tonight. Give me some sugar, sugah'!" Theon pops up beside Robb displaying his usual you-just-got-screwed smirk.
Robb elbows him in the stomach while trying to make sure no one was listening to his idiot best friend. The bar they're in is packed tight with pretty women, all of whom are either being hit on by good-looking guys or avoiding the not so good-looking ones. Robb feels like he's in the latter category, not that he'd ever admit to feeling feminine in any way. 'I do look good in heels, though' he muses as an afterthought.
"Shut up, you halfwit! The bet was that if I lost, I'd dress up as a woman and go out for a drink, not that I had to talk to anyone. That includes you, Greyjoy."
Theon's smirk turns into a grin, and he gives his best mate a slow once-over from perfectly polished toes to the carefully straightened auburn hair just brushing Robb's shoulders. It seems without all the tight kinky curls that are natural to his friend; Robb's hair is actually on the longer side. And it's- pretty.
"You could almost pass for attractive in that get-up, mate. And I didn't tell you to wear something like that. So it'll be your entire fault if some bloke comes up and tries to plant one on you."
"Yeah, whatever. I didn't really have a choice, since you told Sansa of all people-really Theon, Sansa- about the bet and she wanted to give me a makeover. So yeah, still your fault," Robb glares petulantly over at Theon as he bursts out cackling.
"Oh-oh, come on now! You have to admit if it were me you'd be rubbing it in my face too, Stark."
Robb decides not to give answer to that admittedly truthful statement, and instead raises his hand at the bartender and signals for a second martini. Figured he might as well look the part alcohol-wise too, even though scotch is much more preferable, according to all the women at the bar, it's not feminine enough as evidenced by all the margaritas, martinis, and colorful fruity looking things they're drinking.
"But really, you do look good, mate," Theon murmurs in his ear.
Robb's heart does not skip a beat, and his stomach is just upset from the fruity appletini, not from any famed winged insects. He clears his throat, ignoring the flush he can feel coming up his neck and tilts his head back feigning a snooty sort of conceit, "I know, right?"
When he glances over at Theon after the expected laugh doesn't come, he sees his friend's dark eyes aren't looking at his face, and since he has no breasts to speak of- Sansa wanted to try something called silicone pads but he drew the line there- he must be looking at his neck. Which, weird right? Not…tingly-feeling-inducing at all.
Theon enjoys embarrassing Robb. But it's really not his fault! He makes it too easy! And he always gets these blotchy pink patches that flood up his neck and to his entire face, which really should be unattractive, but that he finds himself wanting to touch with the back of his hand to see if it's as warm as it looks. And right now as Robb puts on a ridiculous posh accent and attempts to blow off Theon's fake-but-not-really compliment, he can see a tell-tale bloom of rosy color rising from beneath the lip of the dress that Sansa picked out, and climbing up his previously pale neck. Theon can see when Robb's Adam's apple bobs and his own throat reflexively swallows. He wonders what it would taste like if he put his lips and teeth and tongue on th- "Theon!"
"What? Seven hells, Robb, no need to yell," Theon snaps, annoyed that he just got caught ogling his best mate's throat, by said best mate no less.
"I called you, like, five times. What were you looking at?" Robb runs his fingers over his throat to check if there was something there.
Theon clears his throat awkwardly and throws on a smirk, back in control, "Nah, man. I was admiring how finely shaved your neck is. Did Sansa wax it for you?"
Robb rolls his eyes, annnnd there he is again. Strange staring moment already forgotten, he scowls defensively at his friend, "Well, my razor broke, and she offered…"
He trails off as Theon loses it, nearly falling of his bar stool.
"Oh gods, I was only japing, but you actually did! That's bloody brilliant!" Theon spits out between fits of laughter.
'Well, it's not easy saying 'no' to Sansa,' Robb thinks back to how she got this wounded little bird look on her face when he initially declined. He winces as he realizes he fell for it. For crying out loud he invented that look
"So you plan on knocking around with some bloke tonight? Or maybe go dyke and hit it with a pretty girl?" Theon grins when he's done with laughing at Robb.
"What! No! Theon that's disgusting!" Robb chokes out, wide eyed.
Theon gets a weird look on his face at that and Robb back tracks when he realizes how it sounded.
"Not that being gay is bad or whatever. I just meant, not me, like-" Theon interrupts him, "I get it mate, I was just messing with you."
But the weird look doesn't really go away, just lessens. They fall into an uncomfortable silence. Robb could kick himself, he knows Theon's bisexual and he's never cared, in fact, he had some…stirrings of his own, but then, he'd never told him that. Too afraid he'd reject him. Theon's…pretty perfect as far as Robb thinks, but Robb is definitely not in his league. Just when the silence is getting to the point where Robb is this close to just blurting out the first thing he can think of (that the bartender's ass looks like Kim Kardashian's) Theon looks up from his feet where he'd been glaring and with a determined set to his mouth he reaches his hands out and cups Robb's face pulling it forward to his own.
Robb is stunned and just follows his lead until he feels Theon's chapped lips on his, and is shocked out of his stupor. His own hands move without his say-so and bury themselves in the shoulder length dirty blonde hair in front of them. He kisses back with everything he's ever felt for this boy, this man, his Theon. And it seems Theon can feel it because his grip becomes softer, and his kiss deeper. When he brushes his tongue along Robb's bottom lip, Robb gasps and moans when Theon's takes the opportunity to explore his mouth.
A glass breaking behind the bar startles them apart. They're both gasping for air, and Theon's lips are red and wet, Robb's sure his lips look the same. He smiles shyly at him.
Theon sees Robb's sweet little grin and knows that no words are needed. The kiss will either be talked about or it will just remain a moment of the past, but for now they don't speak. Instead Theon decides to smile back at his boy. A real smile this time, not a self-conscious smirk, or a sly grin. Because with Robb he never feels anything but safe, so he doesn't need those defenses. His hands are still on Robb's cheeks, and his beautiful blue eyes are wide and glazed a bit as Theon swipes his thumbs underneath them. They both slowly lean back in to each other, only this time instead of a heady rush they feel a slow aching burn. And neither can decide if they ever want it to stop, so for now =as long as they can get away with in a public pub, they don't.
Robb lost more than the bet that night, in fact Sansa never saw that dress again.