Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/426535.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Sandor_Clegane/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Sandor_Clegane, Sansa_Stark, Cersei_Lannister
  Additional Tags:
      Public_Sex, kink_meme_fic, PWP
  Series:
      Part 1 of Lemoncakes_and_Tea
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-06-07 Words: 1475
****** Nightbirds ******
by Mirime
Summary
     Sandor and Sansa have a secret rendezvous while he is supposed to
     guard the Queen. Written for sansan_got kink meme.
Notes
     This was written as response to sansan_got kink meme prompt which
     went like this:
     Sex in public. I don't care where, when, how, why. Yep.
     (Extra points if someone sees) (triple-word score if it's a
     Lannister)
The guard duty used to be boring, Sandor Clegane thinks as he hoists Sansa
Stark higher against the wall outside of the Queen's rooms, holding her easily
with one arm around her waist, using the other to unwrap her simple dress from
her. She has started wearing the southern style dresses recently, for the
single reason of them being so easy to discard.
She wraps her long legs around him tighter as she pants in impatience, rubbing
herself against him through the layers of clothing still between them. He tugs
at the last knot and the top of her dress spills open and Sandor lowers his
head to nuzzle at her still growing breasts. They seem to get bigger everytime
he sees them and she moans oh so prettily when he touches them.
"Shh, little bird," he admonishes her and grows even harder when she bites her
lower lip and arches more into him, wordlessly demanding more. He lets her down
gently so he can take off her clothes completely. Not that there is much to
take off, he notices. Just her dress and he merely pushes those aside until
they hang off of her shoulders and then presses his large hand in between her
legs, brushing through her curls until he finds her opening and then had to
suppress a groan himself because she is practically dripping down there.
"What a wanton little bird you are," he whispers to her as he pushes a finger
into her and Sansa drops her head back and bites so hard down on her lower lip
he expects blood to appear. It doesn't and she raises her eyes to him, the
flickering torches in the corridor giving just enough light for him to see her
dilated pupils.
"Please," she breathes, trying so hard to stay quiet. "Please, Sandor," she
repeats and then her nimble hands are at his belt, tugging and pulling and he
lets her because her fumbling amuses him and makes him harder at the same time.
She finally manages to release it and both of them wince when the belt falls to
the ground, the sheathed sword attached to it making a clanging noise when it
hits the floor.
"Do you want to get caught, little bird?" he asks as they both listen for any
sign that someone might have heard but no one comes to demand an explanation
and Sansa puts her hands back on his hips, starting to work on the laces of his
breeches. Sandor sighs when she finally loosens them and then promptly sticks
her hand inside, gripping his cock and stroking hard just as he likes it. She
is a fast learner, his little bird and he is out of patience so he pushes his
breeches down, grips her waist, pushes her against the wall and enters her warm
and wet cunt that is so tight around him, just as tight as the arms that wind
around his neck as she presses herself closer to him, kissing his neck and face
and letting out short gasps against his skin as they move together fluidly and
forget the world around them for just a moment.
===============================================================================
Cersei is not sure what has woken her up. She fell asleep at her table and an
overturned cup nearby is the reason why. She stands up, rolling her shoulders
and picks up the cup, refilling it from the goblet still left on the table. She
would have to have a word or two with her servants. She thinks of going to bed
but the Keep is eerily quiet and makes her uneasy and she decides to check on
her guard. The Hound is on duty tonight, she remembers then and he has always
been dutiful and loyal to Lannisters. It makes her feel better to know that
someone trustworthy is guarding her.
Cersei crosses her room, still a bit unsteady on her feet and opens the door,
intending to call out but the words are stuck in her throat at the sight before
her. The Hound is by the wall opposite the door, slightly hunched over, his
body moving in that unmistakable way that Cersei knows very well. She cannot
see the woman he is fucking but she can hear her muffled gasps and moans and
she is suddenly overcome with jealousy because Jaime is not here, he's not
fucking her as the Hound fucks this little whore and Lancel tries but it's just
not the same.
The Hound pauses for a moment and his white cloak ripples as two long and
slender legs move higher over his waist and then he resumes his movements at a
faster pace and the unknown woman moans "Sandor!" and Cersei has to brace
herself against the door because she knows that voice. It cannot be! The
proper, perfect, little Sansa Stark cannot be fucking the Hound in the
corridor, moaning like a trained whore and begging for more like a... like a...
like a bitch in the heat!
Cersei looks down at her still full cup and drains it in one long gulp. This is
a nightmare. She must still be asleep because there is no way in seven hells
that the little girl that is always so timid and polite would flaunt all
decency and fuck a guard in the corridor. And the Hound is loyal to Joffrey, he
wouldn't touch his betrothed in such a way. No, this is all just a bad dream.
Cersei is afraid of being betrayed and this spectacle might just be the worst
betrayal of all, humiliating her son in the worst way possible.
She ignores the moaning from the two preludes and stumbles back into her room,
going straight to bed, firmly believing that upon waking up, this would prove
to be just a bad dream that fades away.
===============================================================================
When Sandor raises her legs higher around his waist it changes the angle under
which he enters her body and he starts moving faster, too and Sansa cannot help
the moan that escapes her.
"Sandor!"
He grins at her darkly and tightens his grip on her until it's almost painful
but Sansa knows his real strength and this is just a tip of it and she dugs her
fingers into his shoulders, not minding the way his armor feels cold against
her skin and she feels that wonderful feeling in her abdomen, the tightening
that signals that her release is fast approaching and she is so close and she
needs more and she doesn't mind being reduced to begging.
"Please! More! Sandor, I..." she cannot speak anymore because he moves one hand
down between her legs again and presses on that little bump that she often
touches herself while thinking of him but his fingers are calloused from the
sword and feel much better against it and as he strokes her in sure, fast
movements, she gives over to the feeling and shudders all over, burying her
face against his neck because she knows she wouldn't be able to keep quiet, not
when he does these wonderful things to her body.
"Fuck!" he breathes into her hair and moves still faster and Sansa does her
best to hold on to him, feeling safe in his arms and not wanting this to end
but then he gives a series of short, jerky moves with his hips and pulls out of
her and she feels his hand move between them and then his seed is landing warm
and wet on her stomach. She never asks him to come in her, not after he refused
the first time they did this. It is only wise, she knows that the risk is too
great with her freshly flowered and that her getting pregnant is out of the
question but she regrets it a bit nonetheless.
He lowers her down gently and bends down to pick his sword-belt, making himself
presentable again and Sansa follows his example, retying her dress after she
wipes herself down with a cloth she brought specifically for that. He looks at
her as she fusses with her own belt, trying to make the moment last longer but
when they are both dressed, there is nothing left to do and Sansa pulls him
down for a kiss which he returns for a heartbeat but then he pushes her away
carefully.
"You should go, little bird," he murmurs and she nods and kisses him again
before walking away, feeling his eyes on her until she turns the corner and
then she breaks into a run because she needs to get back into her room before
someone sees her and starts asking questions she can't answer. But as sad as
she is at having to leave, she also knows it won't be long before they find
themselves in a similar situation again.
THE END
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