Jon POV

There didn't seem to be a way that showing sadness or being overwhelmed wasn't a sign of weakness – it was just a sign that despite it all he still had a grasp on his humanity. That he hadn't gone mad like the Kind that had killed their grandfather – because feeling nothing when you've lost so much, could only make you mad. He wished there was a way he could show him, that if he just acted like himself he would have the love of the people – because he had all of Jon's love from the first time he just acted like himself. But Jon knew Robb was stubborn, and he would have to resolve his belief in how a king should act by himself – maybe it was just that he was so new to it, he wanted to make a good impression, and felt that there were no room for mistakes. But mistakes are things everyone makes – and Jon had made a few of his own. The time he'd decided to join the watch he didn't regret it the least, because it was something he wanted to do – something he'd always admired. He wanted to change himself, stop being Ned Starks bastard son and become someone else, someone strong, someone that lives depended upon – a watcher. No, he hadn't regretted that decision since he had made it – up until now. Because even though he'd learned a lot in his time at the wall, if it had ended like this, with him by Robb's side, in danger of being executed for deserting, then it would have been easier if he'd stayed from the start – but alas, no one knew what the future would hold, or of all the terrible things that would strike the Stark family. No one knew of the future that seemed to be written in the stars for his brother – but not for him. Robb had scolded him for coming – it was something Jon had expected, he put an enormous burden onto his brothers shoulders, one he was sure that if the time came, he would rather die by his own hand than let his brother be haunted by such a memory. If the time came, maybe then he would finally be able to tell Robb how he felt about him, how he'd always felt about him. Maybe, with his dying breath, he could show him the depth of his love.

"Because of you." He found himself answering his question, subconsciously – something that was meant to stay hidden, but left his lips none the less. He let out a sigh – it was too late to take it back now, and if he'd made a joke of it Robb would pull back, and probably kick him out of the tent – seeing as his face looked so devastated as he looked at him. "I didn't come to see the war. I came to see you. All this time…" he cut himself off before he'd blurted out another stupidity that he couldn't take back. "I worried about you. I worried how you would take all this. I told you already. I'm here to help you. However you need me, and whatever you need me to do." He said, on a serious note, but felt like he should have been making the situation lighter instead of even more intense and dark. "Don't expect me to start calling you Your Grace now though, you'll always be the boy who constantly stole wine from the cellar in my mind, and-" He bit his tongue, as he remembered that one time he'd stolen wine, and it had ended up a bit foggily. Somehow it felt like all the subjects he would touch seemed to be ticking time bombs – as if whatever he said, his emotions would be apparent. But honestly, looking at Robb look so miserable and desperate, did he actually care? Did he care what happened to him? Whether he lived or died? Whether Robb realized the intensity of emotions that circled through Jon's body, or the way his heart beat solely for him. No. The only thing he cared about was to see a smile on his brother's face – no, not even a smile, just any emotion besides the one that resided on it now.

It was as if something had snapped inside of Jon. He felt helpless, and miserable and angry at the same time and he thought to himself, no, you didn't leave the Wall for this, you didn't leave so he would stand here look like this, do something, do anything! Letting out a large sigh, he walked to Robb's side, so that they were an inch apart. "If you keep blaming yourself like this it's going to eat you up and you'll have nothing left eventually." He said, silently, despair in his voice, as if he was almost begging, begging him to just let himself feel whatever he needed to at that time, to stop pretending he was someone he wasn't. It was like his mind was consumed with a white haze filled with anger and despair and sadness over everything, everything that had happened to them in the past 7 months – none of which had been good. Only this, only seeing him. "Maybe you just need to be distracted." The words had left his mouth before he'd even had time to think, his body acting on its own, consumed with all this emotions overwhelming him. His hands clutched Robb's face on either side, and his lips pressed against his, possessively, as if to say yes, this is where I belong. His tongue ran across Robb's lips, prying them open angrily, as he pushed Robb against the bed so that they had almost toppled over. One of his hands tangled into his hair, while the other rested on his back, pressing him so tight that he had no choice, even if he'd wanted to free himself from this kiss. His hand warmed as it pressed against his bare back, the touch of his flesh arousing him more than a kiss should – and so he pulled his lips away, leaning his forehead on Robb's. He took ragged breaths, as he tried to still the beating of his heart and organize his thoughts. What had just happened?

Well, he figured, if he'd let him be kissed by Jon on two occasions already – or well, a few moments ago, it was Robb who touched his lips to Jon's, unless he'd imagined the whole thing – so he though, if words weren't doing the trick, why the hell use them? If he could distract him like this, even if he hated it, or if he didn't care who he was kissing or even sleeping with, even if this would mean nothing to him, or less than that – he didn't care, just as long as he could keep that expression off his face. Because seeing Robb sad, felt like an overwhelming wave crashing inside him, that refused to go away. It was almost like he could feel all the pain, only even worse – like it had doubled as it transferred itself from Robb to Jon. Even if Robb could never love Jon, or never will, it no longer mattered – just as long as he could keep his brother away from the darkness that could easily consume him. He took a sharp breath, their foreheads still connected – because his hand that was tugging at his hair earlier now rested on the back of his head, keeping it in place – and feeling Robb's breath on his skin, he had to fight the urge to just lick his lips then and there, to keep kissing him until his lips bruised and he could no longer feel anything. But he couldn't do it, he would wait until his brother pushed him away, told him to stop joking – because that was what Robb would do. Or if he didn't care, if he did truly want to be distracted like this, and the whores weren't working – who was Jon to deny him anything? "Distracted?" he asked, his voice more horse than he'd hoped. His heart still pounding so loud he was sure Robb could hear it too – did he know already? Did this confirm it for him? Did he know his heart beats for him? And did he enjoy the power – because if ruling was what he'd wanted, he'd overruled Jon's years ago – and Jon had been happy to surrender.

Robb POV

Robb let a laugh leave his lips and for what seemed like the first time that night, he actually gave a genuine smile. Even more genuine then the smile then the one had given when he first saw Jon. "If you called me "Your Grace", well - I would be a bit annoyed. They may call me their King, but you do not have too." He froze at the mention of the wine though, wondering if Jon's mind was lingering back to what had occurred that night. He didn't mention anything though, instead he began to speak again, sending words into Robb's ears, probably hoping that it was what he wanted to hear, what he needed to hear. "If you keep blaming yourself like this it's going to eat you up and you'll have nothing left eventually." Jon paused, his face unreadable and finally he opened his mouth once more the words pouring out. "Maybe you just need to be distracted." And then Jon's lips were on his and Rob could feel the heat inside his body bubbling over. He tried to kiss back, but Jon wasn't letting him. The other boy had the upper hand and they collapsed onto the cot, Jon's hands making it almost impossible for him to move.

He didn't mind though, Robb enjoyed the feeling. The weight on his body, knowing it was Jon and not some girl. He had been craving this ever since that night, not that he had ever tried to make a move at Jon. He never thought his brother actually wanted this, even though he had initiated it that night. He always thought it was just him who craved this, that wanted to more than just the brotherly hug here and there. Robb couldn't even get his tongue in Jon's mouth before he pulled back, his hand still warm on his bare skin. Fighting to catch his breath, his blue eyes watched Jon's dark ones carefully. He was hard, this had only done things to him that he felt he hadn't experienced in months. "I am very much so." His breath was shallow and he was still trying to gain it back and over the sound of his breathing he could also hear Jon's. Against his chest he could feel a pounding, but was it his own or Jon's? Robb leaned up and pressed his lips to Jon's this time, biting down on his lower lip, before sucking it into his mouth. He had to fight to get his hands out from under Jon's body and he locked his hands into his curls, holding his face in place as Jon had his. He was pressing his lips so tightly to Jon's that he was sure they'd both have bruises, but he didn't care. His hands left his hair, finding the furs that lined his shoulders and easily he pushed them away and onto the floor.

He probably should have stopped there, but his hands found the ties on Jon's pants, but his hands froze. "Do you even want me?" He words left his mouth before he could stop them and he looked at him with the same sad eyes that had consumed his face for days. He wondered if Jon was only doing this to get Rob's mind away from everything or if he actually did feel the same way. Jon had made the first move, but did it really mean anything? They were drunk, Robb probably more than Jon and even now, he had consumed a bit too much wine at dinner and then taken to drinking when he came back to his tent. Was this just some drunken dream he kept finding himself in? Dreaming that Jon actually wanted him?

His hand stroked Jon's cheek softly, his lips coming together. Robb had always been the more emotional one of the two - he had been the one to try and save lives rather than end them. It had done with the spy and he had done it with the direwolves. Time and time again he showed a weakness, but Jon never seemed to falter. Maybe it should have been him marching the twenty thousand men and not him. "You know, you deserve much better than myself." It was true, Jon did. He wasn't sure where the words had come from but when they left his lips, it was too late to take them back.