Consent
By Myriddin

Jon really wasn't a party person. Everyone knew that, especially his best friend, but Robb had dragged him out tonight in the name of getting Jon out of his funk. Jon wasn't exactly a social person to start with, but he had admittedly withdrawn even more in the few months since his breakup with Ygritte.

So he had let Robb drag him to Theon's end-of-the-semester bash. It was predictably loud and rowdy, as Jon spent the night hovering along the fringes of the masses of sweaty, drunken bodies, Robb having long abandoned him to make out with Jeyne in the corner. A couple hours later, he had long lost track of Robb and was on his third drink, just enough to be feeling it, but definitely not drunk enough for the ridiculous game he was being wrangled into.

Theon shoved him into his sister Asha's old bedroom and closed the door, shouting out that they had ten minutes. At the reminder that there was another presence in the room, he squinted at the dark, trying to catch a glimpse of his partner. He was about to open his mouth to speak when he suddenly felt the proximity of another body and soft hands cupping his face, tugging him down into a kiss.

She wasted no time, licking at his lips in search of entrance. It should have been alarming how quickly things were accelerating, but Jon hadn't been kissed with this level of genuine passion in so long. Her hands were buried in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, and his body was buzzing with sensation, his head swimming. A small thread of rationale finally broke through his haze and he pulled back reluctantly. "Listen," he whispered roughly, the gravelly quality to his voice barely recognizable even to his own ears. "You need to tell me the moment something isn't okay."

"I will." Her reply was so soft he couldn't have recognized the voice if he tried, but what mattered was that he did hear. She quickly diverted his attention with another kiss, questing hands untucking his t-shirt and daringly sliding underneath.

He groaned throatily, hands finding purchase at her hips. She backed up until she was leaning against the nearest wall, tugging him closer until their bodies were flush against one another. She nipped at his lower lip, rocking her hips into his and he growled, thrusting up against her in reply.

Jon delighted in the contact. The spark between he and Ygritte had died out a while before their breakup, and it had been months since he had known this kind of touch. Deep, hungry kisses, her nails raking slowly and teasingly up his back. The way she continued undulating against him, the soft sounds she made, threatened to undo him in every way.

Their hips were occupied in a slow, lazy grind, Jon noticing her rhythm was enthusiastic but a bit inexperienced. He rested his hand against the small of her back, intending to encourage a different angle that would improve the friction she received. Her shirt had ridden up during their activities and his fingers splaying out brought him into contact with her bare skin. She tensed at the touch, the reaction immediately like a sudden dousing of ice-cold water for Jon.

Jon groped for the light-switch, blinking at the sudden illumination until his vision cleared and his heart sank. "Sansa," he murmured dejectedly. Sansa Stark, his best friend's little sister, was staring back at him with flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and fearful eyes. It was the fear that made his stomach knot.

"It's alright, Jon." She kissed him again, though she received little response. "It's alright." Her hands went to his belt and he caught them in his own.

"Sansa, stop. I'm not blind, sweetheart, I can tell you don't want this."

Jon recognized she was trembling at the same time that blue eyes began to fill with tears. He coaxed her back to him in a loose embrace she could easily break if she wanted and after a moment of deliberation, she relaxed into his arms. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, carding his fingers through her hair. "You wanna tell me what this is about?"

She nodded, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. "You know that Joff dumped me?" Of course he did, Robb had practically wanted a parade to celebrate. It was only the embarrassment the little prick had caused Sansa that caused her brother to exercise restraint. "He said some awful things...he called me frigid, said it was ridiculous that I never slept with him even though we're starting college soon. I just...I wanted to prove him wrong, I suppose."

He arched his eyebrows. "I seemed like the best choice? You know I'm not a hookup kinda guy."

"I know." She shrugged sheepishly. "But I wanted someone I could feel safe with."

Jon tried his best not to let show how much that little kernel of knowledge pleased him. He sighed. "Tell me the truth then. At what point were you not okay and you didn't tell me?"

Sansa raised her head to look at him incredulously. "Oh, Jon, no. Everything was fine, good...really good." Her blush deepened at that admission. "It wasn't your fault, but when you touched my back, I started thinking about what was supposed to come next and I froze. I'm sorry. I honestly thought I was ready. I didn't mean to lead you on."

"First off, Joffrey Baratheon is an arsehole and his opinion's worth nothing. Second of all, you've got nothing to apologize for. You haven't lead anyone on, lovely girl. We could be completely naked and ready, and the moment you wanted to stop, we would stop." At her dubious look, he nodded firmly to emphasize his point, leaning down to kiss her temple. "I mean it."

She breathed out slowly and then slowly mimicked his nod. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good." Glancing at his watch, he realized their ten minutes had long passed, already past midnight, meaning they had likely been forgotten by the intoxicated party-goers. He rocked back and forth on his heels to test his sobriety and satisfied when he kept his balance, he cocked his head in her direction. "Can I walk you home?"

He offered her his arm and she took it with a smile, tucking her hand against his elbow. "I'd like that."