Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4978315.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Sandor_Clegane/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Sansa_Stark, Sandor_Clegane, Joffrey_Baratheon
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, King's_Landing
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-10-11 Words: 1721
****** The Bath ******
by Maracuya
Summary
     Smutty one-shot. Premise rather similar to the "Bamboozled Dog". I
     wrote this on Livejournal in January and forgot to post it here.
     Catching up now...
Notes
     Disclaimer: I do not own my works of fanfiction/fanart. I do not
     profit from the stories or drawings, nor would I
     ever seek to do so. All credit for characters, plot and settings go
     to the respective original author or artist.
Sansa was running, dashing through the corridors of the Red Keep. She was
pretty sure that she'd be called to Joffrey soon, and only the Seven knew how
he'd torture her again. He hadn't bullied her in two days, so he'd want to
"make up" for his “neglect”. But this time, Sansa wouldn't be there when the
order came. It was only good that of late she wasn't guarded so heavily at
daytime anymore, what with the upcoming battle with Stannis. The King's focus
was often elsewhere these days.

Now, however, Sansa was seeing people looking and calling for her with every
step she was taking.

"Hey, you!" someone called, and Sansa was sure the call was directed at her.

Panicking, she took a few turns and hurried across an inner yard. She reached a
side building she didn't know, but she didn't care, opened a door and slipped
in. At once, she froze. There were six tubs in front of her. The room was
empty, but there was steaming water in one of the tubs. Oh gods, this was the
bath for the guards!

Sansa spun on her heels and wanted to leave again, but stopped dead when she
heard the fall of heavy boots in front of the door.

"Hound, going to wet your fur at this time of the day?" a male voice was
calling outside.

"Sure, Sedwyn. My shift is starting in about an hour, and the king and the
queen wouldn't want me around them smelly and dirty from the sparring session."

"Aye, I can imagine that," the first man chuckled.

Sansa's heart wanted to hop out of her ribcage. Oh no! OH NO! Of all men... the
Hound!

"He mustn't see me! Where can I hide?"

The tubs were not big enough. And there were only boards for the clothes, no
chests. Sansa was starting to feel sick from fear - but then, she noticed a
niche next to the tub with the water. There was a curtain in front of it.

"I must be really quiet, but it's my only chance," she thought and ran.

Not one moment too late. She was barely behind the curtain and had noticed that
soap and towels were stored in the niche when she heard the door open. For a
moment, there was no further noise, and she feared the Hound had discovered
her, but then, she heard his footfall and the door closed again.

Steps were coming into her direction.

"Oh!" Sansa thought and suppressed her panting breath. "The tub... the water...
he's taking a bath right in front of me!"

She noticed a beam of light that indicated a little hole in the fabric of the
curtain. Sansa was insecure: did Sandor Clegane expect her to be there or not?
There was no helping it. She needed to know, so she peeped through the hole.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The Hound had already put off his armour before coming to the bathhouse and was
only wearing a tunic, breeches, his boots and a belt with a dagger. The belt
had already wandered to the board at the side, and Sandor Clegane was just in
the process of pulling the tunic over his head. Within a second, Sansa was
exposed to his naked torso.

Her eyes bulged and her mouth hung open at seeing the rippling muscles of his
abdomen and the dark, curly hair on his chest... and further down where it
vanished in his waistband. There were also a few bruises from his training and
more scars from past fights to be seen. Still. Sandor Clegane looked like the
Warrior made flesh.

The tall man stooped over the tub and tested the water temperature.

"Lazy fuck of a squire," he mumbled in his angry, grating voice. "Too little
water again. Even I need a third pail. The lad will get a proper shellacking."

Next, the Hound kicked away his boots, opened the laces of his breeches and
pushed them down. Sansa thought of averting her eyes, but thanks to a lack of
smallclothes her look was instantly glued to his nakedness.
"Sweet Mother have mercy..."

Sansa had never seen a naked man before, at least not from the front - apart
from her little brothers. She had once caught a short glimpse of Hodor's bare
backside in the Godswood, but her mother had told her to look away, and she had
obeyed at once. Now, however, she was confronted with a... a male organ for the
first time. Sansa was close to squealing and pressed her hand onto her mouth.

To make things worse the Hound's manhood... it seemed to be changing! Sansa's
cheeks felt hot when she realised the thing was becoming longer and starting to
lift.

"I should only see my lord husband like that!" she thought, but it was
hopeless, and she remained frozen in place.

Casually, Sandor Clegane placed a hand around his member and moved his palm up
and down a little. He seemed to be in a somewhat less irritable mood than usual
and was even humming, though what was possibly supposed to be a simple tune
could have curdled milk. Sansa's knees felt like jelly, and it became worse,
when the manhood became even more rigid and bigger... and a bit darker, too. At
the same time, Sandor Clegane's nipples seemed to stiffen as well.

The man turned around and graced her with a proper view of his muscled behind.
His buttocks moved when he made a move towards the tub, and while Sansa's first
hand was still on her mouth, the second one pressed down onto her belly of its
own accord. Meanwhile, the Hound stepped into the water and sat down in such a
way that Sansa could see his front again. And his erection. The water was
indeed too low so that the tip peeked above the surface as if it were
especially curious.

Still humming, Sandor Clegane took a piece of soap, which had already been
placed on the board next to him and lathered his body.

"Could do with a wench taking that over for me now," he murmured.

Images of herself rubbing the soap across the man's enormous chest and into his
dark hair flashed up in Sansa's mind. Her fingers started to itch, and she
berated herself.

The Hound sighed darkly. He sounded a bit frustrated.

"He must be lonely," Sansa thought.

She had no time to dwell on this topic, though, because the scarred warrior
quickly rinsed himself... and then began rubbing along his member again. His
head fell back, and his wet, long, dark hair was plastered to his skin. Sansa
could see the tip of the manhood with its little opening appear and disappear
between the warrior's long, calloused fingers, and she swallowed hard.

"Hmmmm... yessss... oooh...," Sandor Clegane groaned, and hot and cold waves
were running down her spine.

"He looks almost... serene," she thought. "It must feel really good for him."

The Hound was panting by now. Sansa could see the veins along his member
clearly, and its colour had darkened even more.

Sansa had never seen the Hound blush, but then and there, of all places, he was
doing it. Was it the same with other men?

His moves became faster, less controlled, and Sansa thought she saw a bit of a
whitish fluid before it was washed away.

"Oh... oh yesss... please... fuck... I'd have never thought..."

Sansa furrowed her brow. What was the Hound saying? Who was he talking to?
Then, it dawned on her: was he dreaming of a woman?

"Ooooh, little... aaargh!"

It happened so quickly that Sansa couldn't believe what she was seeing: whitish
fluid spurted forth from the Hound's member, and Sandor Clegane's body tensed
and reared up from the water for the blink of an eye.

"Is this normal?" Sansa thought, nervous.

But everything seemed to be all right: the Hound relaxed and uttered a
contented growl.

He washed the seed away, grabbed a towel next to the tub and rose. He dried
himself, put on his clothes, combed his hair and left.

Sansa was still dazed from the spectacle, but then, she thought: "His squire
will be here any moment and clean up after him."

Without further ado, she dashed out of the bathrouse, ran back to her rooms and
hid under her blankets, but to no avail: the Hound's doings had been seared
into her memory. To make things perfectly ridiculous it turned out nobody was
looking for her, at least not for a while.

After a bit more than an hour, there was a heavy knock on her door, and she
flinched.

"The king wants to see you."

Gods, it was the Hound's voice!

Sansa flushed scarlet, and things got worse when she opened the door. It was
impossible to look the man in the face.

He led her to Joffrey's quarters. At least no public beating in the throne room
then.

Just when they were admitted and entering the parlour the Hound murmured into
her ear: "The next time you're spying on my cockhead you should make sure your
shoes aren't visible under the curtain, and you shouldn't pant like a wet
tavern wench."

Sansa squealed.

Joffrey's eyes widened, and he grinned.

"What were you saying to my betrothed, Dog?"

"Just talking about heads, Your Grace."

Joffrey slapped his thigh.

"That's the spirit!" he cackled. "You know what, Hound? I'm half of a mind to
let you have her, if you survive the upcoming battle. She's a woman now, mother
says, so you could actually make her one in earnest. Judging by your size the
traitor's bitch will be glad to come into my bed afterwards."

Sandor answered off-handedly: "In general, I'm not as big as my brother - only
where it counts."

Joffrey nearly fell off his chair rolling on the floor with laughter.

"Mother wants to break the betrothal and to find me a better woman than her,
but she'll still be good enough as a plaything, won't you agree, Hound?"
 
Sandor Clegane shrugged, and Sansa wanted to weep.

When they left the room again, the Hound muttered into her ear: "Battles are
dangerous for everyone, even for monarchs. Might be I'll shit on everything and
take the king's father as an example."
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