Archive of Our Own

Rain fell heavily over the city. It didn’t deter anyone in the city below where he sat staring out at the darkening sky. The night rolled closer and he was already trying to find a way to get out of his brother’s engagement party later on. Illness… No, Arya would turn up and drag him there unless he was actually dying. Work? Again, Arya would find him and drag him to the restaurant. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Groaning, he dragged himself from the floor and made his way over to the door, only to reveal his baby sister. She was already glaring at him, foot tapping heavily.

“Arya, I don’t want to go,” he groaned, leaving the door open as he turned around and made his way back into the apartment. “Why can’t you just leav-...”

“I don’t care,” she interrupted, glaring at him when he opened his mouth to protest. “You’re coming and that’s it. Your brother is celebrating his engagement. The least you can do is show your face and be happy for him.”

“Great!” he shouted, turning around to face her once more. “Great. Absolutely great. You sound like your mother, ya know that?!” His words took her back, her face pale. “Who gives a fuck about how I’m feeling? As long as Robb’s happy. Put Robb’s wants and needs in front of my own.” That had always been the way ever since he’d come to live with his father’s family after his mother’s death. Once upon a time, Arya had been the only family on his side. Yet… He was always the outsider. “You can show yourself out.”

“Jon… You can’t stay in here… It’s not good for you to keep drinking yourself into a dark hole,” she stated, voice softer this time. “Maybe a few drinks with us instead… Please?” 

“She’s going to be there, Arya,” he whispered, eyes slamming shut. How much it hurt that he couldn’t even say her name. “I can’t… You don’t understand.” 

She was in front of him as he fell backwards onto the couch. The world started to spin, his vision blurring as his breathing stuttered. Her arms were around him but they weren’t the ones that made the voices disappear. They weren’t the ones that loved him. She wasn’t here to help him get through the pain and it was all his fault.

Escaping the party was easy. They didn’t need him there. No one needed him. Sitting on the living room floor of the apartment they’d once shared, picture-perfect memories never far from the corner of his eye haunting his every breathing moment, he nursed a tumbler of whiskey. His phone lay motionless beside him even as he stared out into the black sky, the rain still pouring down. She’d looked so amazing at the party. Laughing and smiling with her - their - friends. The purple dress flowing as she moved around, her role as maid of honour making it her job to speak to nearly everyone there. 

Everyone but him. 

Not that he should have been surprised. They’d been fighting for weeks. Stupid fights that shouldn’t have cut so deep. But they had. Until one day, she’d had enough. Walked straight out the door, never looking back. But she’d been crying, her mascara running. And then she was gone. 

Chuckling wetly, he shook his head before thumping it against the wall behind him. It didn’t stop the wish that she’d just walk in through the door and forgive him. His vision started to blur as tears ran down his face. Angry thoughts. Familiar voices. ‘You don’t deserve her. You never deserved her? Why would she want to stay with someone like you?’ 

He didn’t know what possessed him as he grabbed his phone, her number found and dialled before he even had a chance to think about it. One ring, two. On the fourth go, just as he was ready to give up, she answered. “Jon?” Her voice was groggy like she had just woken up. He could imagine her eyes fluttering open, remembering how she would bury her nose against the curve of his neck as she slowly pulled herself from sleep. “Jon? It’s a quarter after one. What’s wrong?” There was a ruffle of clothing as she sat up.

Swallowing, he tried to find the words. Anything to take back all the pain, the barriers he had rose. “I’m sorry,” he breathed instead, his chest feeling like he’d had a tonne of bricks landed on him. “I’m sorry for pushing you away. Of pretending everything was okay.” He should have said this when it started six months ago. He should have never made her feel like she wasn’t the one he loved. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Jon.. You’re scaring me.” There was more ruffling. “Where are you right now?” 

“Don’t worry about me. I just wanted to apologise.” That was a lie. He just needed to hear her voice. He was selfish like that. “I let you go back to sleep. Goodnight, Dany.”

“Jon, w-...” He hung up before she could stop him. Forgetting the glass, he drank straight from the bottle this time. The whiskey burned his throat as he swallowed it down. How easy it would be to just throw himself over the balcony. End it all. Shaking his head, he chuckled drily. It had been years since he had a thought like that. All he wanted to do was turn everything back before it went wrong. But he didn’t deserve a happy ending. 

“Fuck off, Arya!” He shouted as someone pounded on his front door. Most likely his sister. Blinking blearily, he climbed up from the floor and stumbled over to the door. Only this time, it wasn’t his baby sister on the other side. Daenerys pushed her way inside, slamming the door closed behind her as she took him in. All while his brain was still playing catch up. “Dany, wh-” He was cut off when she suddenly launched herself into his arms, her own wrapping around his neck as she pulled him into a hug. 

His cheeks were wet from his tears - or maybe they were hers? It didn’t matter, she was in his arms again. There was nothing better than having her wrapped up in his arms like this. “I missed you,” he whispered against her hair, the words escaping him in a rush. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the fact that she’d raced halfway over the city just to make sure he hadn’t relapsed. Regardless of where this sudden courage had come from, he pulled his face back to look at her. It was then he knew she was crying too. His hands lifted, thumbs brushing the tears from her face. “Don’t cry, love.” He always hated it when she cried. Especially when he wanted to make it better but didn’t know how to make it right.

“You left the party early and then you call me to apologise,” she rushed out, her hands pushing his vest down his arms, helping him out of the suit he hadn’t bothered to take off once he got home. “I…” She trailed off, lifting her eyes from where they were tracking over the rolled-up sleeves of his white dress shirt. “I thought you were going to do something stupid.”

“I’m reckless, not stupid,” he grumbled before a quick tug on his shorter curls was enough of a warning that he was walking on thin ice. “Sorry,” he mumbled before she was guiding him backwards. “Wha-... Dany, what are you doing?” 

“I can smell the alcohol off you,” she stated calmly, leading him to the bedroom they’d once shared. “You need to sleep. But I don’t think I can leave you alone.”

“I swore I wouldn’t call but... I need you, Dany.” His emotions were all over the place. Every night he lay awake, staring at the ceiling as tears threatened to fall. Wishing, hoping she’d come through the door like she did before. “But you don’t need me. You’ve never needed me… So I pushed you away before you found someone better than me.” He was broken. Damaged goods. She deserved better than him.

“Oh Jon,” she breathed, cupping his face in her own. “We’ll talk in the morning. When you’re sober.” His hands caught her wrists, thumbs rubbing her pulse. 

“And you’re gonna stay?” He was like a little boy again, leaning into her touch. 

“Yes. I’m going to stay.”

She was still there when he woke up. He couldn’t breathe, taking her in. She’d helped him out of his suit, making sure that he hadn’t done something stupid before she climbed into bed with him, her fingers trailing through his curls until he’d passed out. Which is why he found himself curled up in her arms, staring at her as she slept. Gods, why had he been such a fool? 

“It’s not a dream,” she mumbled, shuffling forward a bit before blinking her eyes awake. “I’m not a dream. I’m not going to disappear in a puff of smoke.” One of her hands came to brush along the top of his forehead, the breath he didn’t know he was holding escaping him in a huff as his eyes slid closed. “You cut your hair.”

He hummed, nodding his head as her hand slid down to cup his jaw. “I… I needed something to change,” he whispered, voice low as his eyes found hers. “I… I missed you. I meant what I said last night. On the phone and when you turned up.” While he’d drank half a bottle of Jameson, he hadn’t done so on an empty stomach. And he’d only had one beer at Robb and Margarey’s engagement party. 

Dany sighed and his whole chest felt like it was going to crumble. Cursing himself, he readied himself for the inevitable rejection. But it never came. Instead, she shuffled down until they were face to face, her nose brushing against his. “You said you pushed me away before I found someone new,” she whispered, her hand never leaving his face. Just like his never left her waist. “All I wanted was you, Jon. Just you.” She left a soft kiss against the tip of his nose before resting her forehead against his. “When will you realise that anything Catelyn Stark ever taught you about yourself was a lie?”

The sound that left his throat could only be described as a whimper. He curled into her further, his chest tightening like the night before. Only this time, it was Dany’s arms wrapping around him as the room started to spin. The feeling of smothering, the cold feel of sweat starting to cover him. And there she was, a hand trailing through his hair as she spoke to him. Words of comfort and reassurance. Promising not to let go.

Jon returned from his daily morning run, his hair soaked as he stumbled into the apartment. His breath caught when he found Daenerys sitting in the bay window, looking out onto the wet streets. Relief flooded his veins every time he saw her there. He’d needed the run to wake up, clear his mind before they dived into what had happened between them. 

Her head turned as he shut the door behind him, her brow furrowed before she smiled. “Feel any better?” she asked, closing her copy before she set it aside and stood.

Nodding his head, he felt speechless when she moved closer to him until only a foot separated them. “You stayed,” he mumbled, reaching for her hand only to stop half way. Realisation passing through him like a bullet. “I need a shower first. I know I stink.” 

Daenerys’ shoulders sagged, relief obvious in her face. Tilting her head, she grinned and nodded. “You smell like a wet dog,” she agreed before standing on her toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll cook us some breakfast.” He nodded briefly before she was pushing him towards the bathroom, chuckling as he grunted. 

Leaving her be, he set himself a quick shower, washing away all the sweat from his run. He didn’t spend too long, quickly washing his hair and body until he was satisfied he didn’t smell like a ‘wet dog’ as Dany had teasingly called it. Staring at himself in the mirror, he took a deep breath as he noticed how the last few months had impacted him; muscle loss in areas where they’d been most prominent now that he wasn’t doing the same training that he had been. The lack of sleep, the drinking to drown out the voices and thoughts… Shaking his head, he grabbed the towel and quickly dried his hair. The sooner he got back out to her, the sooner he could tell her everything he should have had before.

Pausing in the doorway, he swallowed as he watched her sip from her cup of coffee while she turned the rashers and fried eggs. There were sausages cooked and set on two plates beside her, music playing from her phone. He’d gone six months without this. Living on other sides of the city as they licked their wounds and tried to live their lives. Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. 

“Are you just going to stare at the food or are you going to come in here and eat it?” Her words tore his attention from his thoughts. Pushing his shoulder off the door jam, he entered the kitchen and grabbed his own cup to fill it from the coffee she’d made. 

He paused as she handed him his plate. “You stayed.” His words were confused even as the memories from this morning and last night flooded his mind. “Even though we fought and haven’t spoken since…. You stayed.”

“Of course I did,” she stated, tilting her head. “You don’t just ring at quarter past one while drunk, Jon. That’s not you.” She nodded her head to the plate. “Eat. We can talk while you get something into you.” She smirked then. “You’re like an angry pup when you haven’t eaten.”

Grumbling, he sat down at the island and started eating, his stomach rumbling as he finally took time to take in the meal she’d cooked up. She took a seat beside him, buttering a slice of toast before placing some scrambled eggs on it. They ate in relative silence until she asked the question he knew she’d wanted to ask.

“So what now?”

Swallowing the last of his food, he sighed as he turned to her. “I… I was an idiot. Letting you walk through that door.” He twisted the beaded bracelet around his left hand, the fidget spinning ring on his right finger. “I got so twisted over stupid thoughts and I hurt you… Hurt us… And there hasn’t been a day where I hadn’t thought about finding you and getting on my knees to apologise. To ask you to love me again.” His words trailed off, her hand on his forcing his fidgeting to stop. Looking up, he swallowed the dry lump in his throat. “I kept dreaming you’d walk back through that door.”

“Why didn’t you call sooner?” Her thumb brushed over his knuckles, tracing the scars that she found there. “You wouldn’t talk to me. Pushed me away so I decided to stay with Missandei and Grey.” Lifting one hand, pointing at his head as words failed him. With everything happening over the last year, therapy wasn’t as available as it had somewhat been before then. Her eyes softened before she stood, wrapping herself around him even as his arms banded around her waist. “Stop pushing me away, love. I can’t have your back if you won’t let me past your walls.”

“I need to go back to therapy,” he breathed, burying his face in her neck while her fingers played with his hair. “Maybe that would help me.”

“Couple therapy too. So we don’t make the same mistakes again.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, smiling when he subtly started rocking them. It seemed like there were things that never changed; his ticks for certain hadn’t changed. “I missed you too. In case those voices are telling you otherwise.”

His arms tightened around her before he lifted his head, eyes shiny as he looked her in the eye. “Gods I hated every moment you weren’t here.” Hesitantly, he rubbed his nose against hers but left a hair’s breadth between them. Waiting for her to close the gap. He didn’t have to wait long before she pressed her lips against his, chastely. Growing with each stroke before her tongue teased along his. Groaning, he opened his mouth and let her tongue slip inside before he was lifting her up, her arms folded under the curve of her arse as he carried her out into the sitting room. His lips never left hers even as she pushed him down. He groaned into her mouth, hands finding her hips as she straddled his hips, her own rocking into his as their hands scrambled to get rid of their clothing.

He was like a man finding an oasis, the way his thoughts shifted from pain and hurt to love and happiness. A light in the dark. He didn’t know how they stripped each other without causing some damage to themselves. Rolling around as they tried to make the other feel good. Fingers and mouths tracing and mapping, relearning the way the other one tasted and felt. He made her cum twice with his mouth and fingers before she was pushing him flat on his back, her hand holding the base of his cock before she slid down on him.

They both moaned, Jon’s hands gripping her hips and thighs as she struggled the first inch or two to take him even after he’d made her so wet. And then she was sliding down, her nails digging into his chest and bicep. “Fuck,” she whimpered, biting her bottom lip red as the round curve of her ass met his thighs. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

He leaned up on one elbow, mouth finding her own in a desperate kiss as he gave her time to adjust. Nipping, sucking, licking. Before she was rocking and rolling her hips, teasing him until he was forced to lay flat once more, feet trying to find purchase on the cushions. “Shit… Dany, I’m no…” He cut himself off, biting his bottom lip as he strained not to spill himself too soon. 

“Don’t care,” she gasped, bending over him as her own arms shook. Her mouth found his, sucking on his bottom lip. “Come on, Love… Let go.” Her words against his lips, he fell over the edge, pulling her close as he spilled inside her. His eyes blurred, a growl or moan or some weird mix in between those two. She followed soon, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she cried out his name.

They made it to the bed eventually. He curled up in her arms, pressing his ear against her heart as his hand came up to trace down her side. Her own hands were playing with his hair, her breathing slow and calm under him. “How is your book coming along?” he whispered, fingers tracing her dragon tattoo even as he rested his head against the steady beat of her heart. He was too comfortable to move.

“It’s getting there,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his forehead. “I’m at the scene where they lure the villain to their homestead. Just need a bit of structure to the fire fight.” 

“Mmmm. It’s gonna be fantastic,” he stated, lifting his head and pressing his lips briefly to hers. “Just like you.” She trailed a finger over his brow, smiling when he shuffled closer to her. “I love you, Dany.” His head found her chest once more, nuzzling close as she whispered her love back. His body finally relaxed then, knowing that with her in his arms, his nightmares never stood a chance.