Sansa stretches. Her knuckles bump the dull wood headboard, as her fingers unfurl and the scratchy sheet that smells like Jon and scented laundry powder slips down below her breasts. She luxuriates in the stretch from the tips of her toes to the spread of her fingers, feeling the pleasant ache of muscles she didn't know were involved in this sort of thing. A shower would be nice, but she's in no rush. Curled up in bed here alongside Jon, she's perfectly happy. He wasn't wrong about the fireplace being enough to warm the place up given enough time, and she's worn out in the best possible way.
They've only caught an hour or two of sleep at a time through the night and she wouldn't blame him if he slept until noon, but as she bends her legs under the sheet, he stirs with a deep groan. Rolling onto his side, he wraps an arm around her middle and mumbles something against her shoulder that is both unintelligible and blatantly obscene.
She bites her lip, thinking of the things he said to her overnight. The dirty things he pressed into her skin with hot lips and grasping hands. Every time they found each other in the dark and found a new well of energy to draw upon, he was freer with compliments both sweet and filthy. She liked it. She liked it a lot. It made her back arch and her mouth fall open to hear those things said about her.
He hums, placing a kiss to her collar bone and another and then below, where her breast begins to swell. A thrum of pleasure builds in anticipation of where his kisses seem to be headed, when she remembers the hazy realization that struck her at 6:32 AM before passing out draped over Jon's chest.
"You're out of condoms."
Lifting his head from the valley between her breasts, his brows draw down in sleepy confusion. "What?"
"We used the last condom a couple of hours ago." That last time, when he flipped her on to her stomach and she couldn't help but push back into him again and again. "Unless you have more somewhere."
He shifts up on one elbow, peering over her at the bedside table, but there's nothing but an empty box there.
"Fuck."
Not without a condom, Sansa thinks, and she would laugh if it wasn't such a keen disappointment.
"I'll run to the gas station."
Sansa does laugh at that, and Jon flushes. "No?"
"We're supposed to be snowed in, remember? Roads closed and all that." Thank goodness for unsafe conditions and closed highways or this might not have ever happened.
Flopping back on his pillow, he grunts. "You don't think it's gotten any better out?"
"It snowed more over night." She caught a glimpse of the deep drifts on her way to the bathroom at 5 AM.
"Right."
Sansa grabs for the empty black box, flips it over, and gives it a little shake, as if another condom might magically fall out of it if she wants it badly enough.
Five condoms. They come in boxes of six. One was already used before her, but a day ago that would have seemed like more than enough for anyone over the course of less than 24 hours. But it wasn't and they've got at least another day before they can head for home.
"I mean, we got here okay, right?" she says, flicking the box back onto the table with a pout. "What was that station like five miles back?"
Her eyes cut over to where he lies looking up at the ceiling, his mouth crookedly smiling. "Four maybe."
"That's gotta be doable. Don't you think?"
Jon sits up, dragging the sheet with him. "Hell, I could walk that far."
"In snow?"
"And uphill both ways."