If there was one thing Jon could say in favor of his older brother, at least he wasn't shy. Had he been, Jon's recent life would likely be more peaceful, but there was simply no way he would be this bold with the affair if an ounce of shyness or general courtesy existed. Or maybe that was just his profound lack of peripheral awareness. Actually, yes, that seems far more likely than any sort of bravery, he had mused the night before, pillow shoved over his head in a vain attempt at muffling the noises coming from the chambers adjacent to his. Because if he has been aware of the sleep he's made me lose all this time, I don't think I will ever forgive him.

Despite what Sansa may think, Jon had been the first to discover Robb's secret. Or at least he thought he was, but the honestly pathetic efforts Robb made at secrecy would fool no one who knew anything about affairs. To his best guess, his brother had been sleeping with Theon Greyjoy for the better part of the last month, and they had only become more careless and bold with where, when, and how they had their trysts the longer it went on. Even Arya had caught on by now, and Jon suspected that his father and Lady Catelyn were only waiting for the best time to sit down their eldest child for a talking-to.

Jon could say with confidence that he knew exactly when the affair began. He was there, after all, in Winterfell's baths after a long and particularly grueling round of sword training with the eldest Stark and the ironborn.

...

Theon had, as usual, been bragging about some frisky tryst or another with a serving girl (or was it a tavern wench that time? Ros, that prostitute he liked? Some other willing person who so much as looked his way?). He had once been enthralled by his friend's tales. Graphic and visceral, they left nothing to the imagination and Jon had never known a woman in that way. The tales inspired something like intrigue at first, but after a time it became obnoxious. You can only hear the same story so many times, after all, and it didn't seem like Theon's escapades were inventive enough to warrant that much time. Robb, though, clearly disagreed. He had flushed madly (although that could have been the hot water) when Theon graphically described using his fingers for things Jon didn't want to imagine, and by the time that story ended his eyes were two blue saucers. Theon grinned slyly, the way Jon hated, and leaned his head against a hand propped on the bath's wall.

"You like that story, Stark?" He said with all of the arrogance Jon had ever heard.

Robb had sputtered out some sort of disagreement which wouldn't have even fooled his baby brother before averting his gaze and coughing into a fist. To Jon's dismay, the reaction only motivated more provocation from Theon, whose grin had evolved into a smirk.

"Maybe you have one to share, then? I know Snow doesn't."

"Why would- I don't- I- I've never-" came more sputtering from the ginger-haired boy. His face was fully red by then, to a degree that couldn't have possibly been the hot water's fault.

"Well, no matter." A long stretch of silence came after, interrupted only by the slight ripple of water in the baths that echoed off the chamber walls. Jon had his eyes closed, head rested against the wall of the bath, in an attempt to enjoy the remaining time he had in the soothing heat. He could only hope that Theon would respect this wish and not fucking talk about fucking anymore.

"...Did I ever tell you about the time I slept with a man?"

Fucking hells! Jon thought while letting out the weariest sigh he could conjure. It went ignored. "Why would I possibly want to know about the time you slept with a man?" He asked, desperate not to hear the gritty details. As he said it, though, a realization came that the question probably wasn't intended for him.

Sure enough, the Greyjoy's gaze was trained on Robb, whose poor face would probably never reach its natural pallor again.

With purpose, Jon stood, grabbed a bathrobe, and hurried towards the chamber's exit, his brother left to his fate.

...

But that was almost a month ago, and although he hadn't heard another raunchy tale from Theon, he had likely witnessed enough of his activity to tell a tale himself. He could probably spin a different story for every location in the castle by now. Nowhere was safe. Not the Hall, not the training grounds, especially not those forsaken baths (and Jon smelled all the worse for it, avoiding them as he was). No nook or cranny had been left out in the two's thorough couplings throughout Winterfell. Even the godswood was a little less sacred now, Robb and Theon having fornicated there under the watchful eyes of the Old Gods. Jon prayed to them extra as an apology.

In the morning, after taking an awkward breakfast with his sort-of-family in which Lady Catelyn tried in vain once again to hint that an oblivious Robb was doing a poor job of hiding the consequences of his rendezvous (a particularly fresh love-bite was today's focus), he decided that going another day within these well-tainted walls was absolutely out of the question. So, double-checking his schedule and grabbing a small portion of food and drink for later, Jon sneaked his way beyond the castle walls.

It was a long walk to his favorite clearing, but also a lovely day; no clouds blocked the summer sun, and although it was always chilly this far north, it was far from frigid. It would be very pleasant indeed to sit on his moss-covered rock by that small stream, the dappled sunlight warming his skin as he supped on whatever bread and fruits were scrounged from the kitchens earlier. It was Jon's special spot, where he went when he wanted to think by himself, when he felt particularly frustrated with his family, or just wanted to make himself scarce. He brought Robb there once. It hadn't been an altogether pleasant outing, filled with tears and confessed worries as it was, but there had certainly been worse.

He hiked for a while longer, letting the day's delightful weather lighten his mood. He was nearing the clearing now, going by his memorized landmarks, and it always helped to arrive in good spirits at his lovely little spot. Stopping for a moment, Jon took in a deep breath of the fresh summer air, closing his eyes for a moment and just listening. What beautiful silence it was, just the distant trickle of a stream up ahead, the light wind setting leaves a-rustle, Jon's controlled breathing. Not a single gasp, cry or moan as far sound can travel. He smiled, finally, finally tranquil. It wouldn't be much longer to his spot, just another stone's throw over that ridge, and there he was like to stay until sundown. Maybe forever. Or at least until they stop with the-

"Ahh!"

The cry cut Jon from his reverie as quickly and cleanly as a blade cut through skin. No. All of the joy he felt mere moments before drained away with his hopes for a day of peace. Absolutely not. It sounded close by, just about a stone's throw over the ridge. No! It can't be-

But indeed it was. Scurrying to peak just over said ridge, Jon's secret clearing came into view, as tranquil as ever, dappled in sunlight and littered with mossy rocks, wild grasses, discarded pieces of clothing, and what Jon knew all too well to be the unclothed bastards (figurative) he called his brother and friend. Is nothing sacred!?

Those fuckers (literal) were even performing their awful practice on his rock. His moss-covered, sun-lit, perfect rock. Now covered in naked Theon. Wonderful. Jon wished he had never brought Robb here. Damn his tears, that traitor betrayed the clearing's sanctity!

The cry was from Theon, Jon realized with shame that he could even tell the difference, lying against Jon's rock with his back partially turned to the ridge. The angle of his body was just right so that no clear view was permitted, but nothing was left up to the imagination. He noticed Robb immediately, vibrant as his hair was, low on his lover's abdomen. Both of Theon's hands wove through it, slowly pushing him lower and lower until Jon really regretted ever considering the man a friend. Surely Robb isn't going to-

But indeed he was. Jon watched on, frankly in horror, as with no more than a slight smirk Robb bent his head the remaining distance and took his partner into his mouth. It was all he could do to resist the urge to call out and make them stop, announce that he knew all along and would they please never do that again, you don't know where that's been, Robb!

Calling out probably wouldn't end well, though, seeing as a foreign object was currently down one of Robb's major airways and the last thing Jon wanted was to break the news to Father that his eldest son died from choking on a cock. Even if it's what he deserves, the ass.

So there he sat, an angry bastard atop a ledge, overlooking the dismal ruins of his good day for what felt like a lifetime. Ignoring the ironborn's gasping breaths, coming quicker now and almost in time with the movement of the eldest Stark's head, was almost doable until, with a cry that sounded an awful lot like 'Robb', he reached completion. Jon had never begged for death more than in that moment, and he begged all the harder when Robb followed soon after. What have I ever done? Who have I wronged? Which Gods hate me so much as to play such cruel jests?

After a long moment of the two catching their breaths and Jon trying his damnedest to quell the fury in his soul, a small breath of a laugh came from below.

"Jon would kill me for this," came Robb's entirely too blissful voice, breathy and tired. "Well- for here, at least." Jon wanted to scream.

"Mm? Is this where he takes his trysts?" Theon asked, harvesting their poor discarded clothes from the grassy floor. "Didn't take him for an 'outdoors' type of man."

"No, it's nothing like that. He just comes here to brood sometimes." His tunic was on again, which was a small relief. "Although I suppose he could bring girls here. Doubtful." Jon chose to ignore the slight.

"It's just... I- Jon brought me here once a few years back. I told him some very personal things that just felt... wrong to admit in the castle." A heavy sigh followed, and Robb suddenly had the decency to look abashed. "I guess that makes it a weird place for... well..."

They were both seated facing each other (fully clothed now) on his rock. Theon, to Jon's bemusement, reached over and gently took Robb's hand in both of his own. "What kind of 'things'?" he asked, thumbing circles into the back of the hand he held.

"Hm?"

"The 'personal things' you told Jon. What were they?"

"Oh. It seems silly now, actually," he said.

"Even more reason to say it."

Robb sighed, but it seemed a mite dramatic and a smile was on his lips. "I was... just noticing some things I hadn't been before. About... well, not about girls, I suppose is the way to say it. You don't need to be told that, though." They shared a small smile at that, and Jon felt remarkably like he was intruding on something. As though I wasn't intruding ten minutes ago.

"Jon was just a listening ear," he continued. "I didn't know how to bring it up with anyone else and I was fairly panicked about it at the time."

"Well, I'm glad you worked it out for yourself." With that, Theon placed a light kiss on Robb's lips, laying his head against a tunic-covered shoulder. Robb snuggled closer almost immediately.

After a long, long moment of silence in which Jon thought (prayed) the two had fallen asleep, his brother raised his head once more, lifting his free hand to brush a stray hair from his lover's face.

"You know, there is one thing I didn't tell Jon. Couldn't tell him." Jon could hear the grin in his voice and immediately knew that whatever he heard next would probably make the 'intruder' feeling even worse.

"Oh? And what could such a secret be?" His tone was entirely playful now, the uncharacteristic intimacy from a moment ago all but vanished.

Both of Robb's hands were on pale cheeks now. "It was you."

"Me? I'm pretty sure our 'secret' isn't that old, Robb"

"Not that, you ass. The... not a girl I was noticing things about. It was you." A deep kiss sealed those words, a kiss that soon became quite too heated for Jon's liking.

I think I've been here long enough, Jon thought, looking for the chance to make his escape. Once he was sure the two weren't going to look up at the ledge, he carefully moved back and tread with the lightest steps he had ever taken until he was clear of the woods. The rest of his walk home was hurried, and he noticed the clear, blue sky was beginning to roll with dark clouds. He prayed that Robb and Theon made it home before that cloud broke over them. They don't need another reason to take their clothes off.