Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/196385.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Jon_Snow/Robb_Stark
  Character:
      Jon_Snow, Robb_Stark
  Additional Tags:
      Brotherhood, Incest, Masturbation, Mutual_Masturbation, Sexual
      Experimentation, Memories, Pre-Canon, Flashback
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-05-08 Words: 499
****** A Memory of Warmth ******
by Nary
Summary
     The men here were supposed to be his brothers, but Jon couldn't bring
     himself to call them that yet. He still missed his true brothers too
     much.
Bright sun at the Wall meant chest-aching cold, instead of the halfway-bearable
cold of the overcast days. The men here were supposed to be his brothers, but
Jon couldn't bring himself to call them that yet. He still missed his true
brothers too much. He pulled his cloak tighter, shaded his eyes against the
glare, and conjured up a memory of warmth to carry him through the long, cold
watch.
At Winterfell, the hot springs kept winter at bay. Their favourite pool was in
the eastern courtyard - it was deep enough to float in, or duck your brother's
head under the water and hold him down. Robb, soaking there, hadn't noticed him
as he crept across the cobblestones. He launched himself lightning-fast,
landing across Robb's shoulders, bearing him down beneath the steaming water.
But Robb twisted as they sank and in seconds he'd struggled free. They both
shot to the surface, sputtering.
"I got you, Stark," Jon said when he'd caught his breath.
"Never." Robb hung onto the side of the pool as he coughed. "It doesn't count,
you couldn't hold me down." It was always the same argument. "Anyway, sneaking
isn't fair."
"Sneaking's part of the game!" Jon protested. "You sneak up on me all the time,
even though you're rotten at it. Why shouldn't I? Were you…" He jerked his hand
lewdly through the air.
Robb looked away. The ruddy colour in his cheeks wasn't entirely from the heat.
"You were?"
"So? You do it too, Snow."
"Sometimes." Jon was suddenly conscious of how often their legs brushed
together in the small pool.
"It's better when a girl does it for you," Robb boasted.
"You never."
"With Marna, the scullery-maid."
"Liar. She wouldn't."
"But she did. She was beside me, this close," he said, moving alongside and
slightly behind Jon, "and she put her hand on me. Like this." His hand curved
around Jon's waist, beneath the water's calm surface, and touched him, making
him snap to attention. "And she asked if I wanted more."
"What did you say?"
"What do you think?"
Jon could hardly think for the pounding of blood, rushing downwards to stiffen
him. "Yes."
"Right. She brought me off, right there in the scullery. It was the best
feeling ever." He paused. "You're, uh…"
"Sorry," Jon said, embarrassed.
"Anyhow, she won't do it again, she's afraid of getting caught." Robb hadn't
moved away.
"Nobody would catch us here," Jon blurted before he could regret it. Robb was
hard against his hip, hot as the water.
"You want to?" Robb's voice was husky but wary.
Jon turned, taking Robb in his hand. "Why not?"
It was short work with each of them stroking the other, Jon leaning hard on his
brother's shoulder, shuddering through his climax, Robb tipping his head back
in a wordless cry, digging his fingers into Jon's back, their ragged breaths
mingling with the steam.
Remembering, Jon turned his face up to the sun's meagre warmth, chest aching
with every breath.
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