Pairing: Jon Snow (Game of Thrones) / Blaine Anderson (Glee)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: At a brothel in Mole’s Town, Jon Snow uses a loophole in his vows to rethink his stance on whoring. Namely, whores named Blaine, with soft curly hair and a smile to light up the darkness of the Wall.
Author’s Note: I’m posting this as I write it! Because we need Blaine Snow. Disclaimer, I have only read the first two ASOIAF novels, so consider this AU from whatever may happen in the ‘verse after that point.It’s an unspoken gift, an allowance on the anniversary of the Brothers’ first year on the Wall. If they can survive a year without deserting and heading south, they deserve a “temporary leave of absence from their Vows” as Mormont describes it with a cough into his fist and a vague glance to the road. Which, as it happens, is how Jon Snow finds himself sitting in a brothel in Mole’s Town, nursing a tankard of ale by himself as his brothers laugh drunkenly with whores on their laps. The sounds of sex can be heard from upstairs, and it makes him flush with embarrassment.
The next little bit!
Jon balks, takes a step back even though he collides with the closed door. “I’m sorry, I think there’s been a mistake.”
The man— Blaine, it seems— shakes his head as he walks toward Jon. He finally steps into the light of the candles’ glow, and Jon sucks in a deep breath. He’s beautiful— if a man can be described as such— bronze skin highlighted with flickering light, curly hair so similar to his own, but softer— well, it looks soft, Jon’s fingers ache to find out— hazel eyes that look more green than brown as they glint under teasing brows.
“Oh, I believe you’re in the right place,” Blaine says, shrugging the simple wool shirt over his head and draping it on a chair. His abdominal muscles are more defined than Jon’s, which makes him pause in consternation before realizing that he’d rather run his hands along them than exercise to achieve such perfection. “Indeed, if your wagging tongue is any indication, my lord”
Jon snaps his jaw closed, unaware it had been open in the first place, and shakes his head to rid the immoral thoughts from his mind. “I’m not a lord,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, followed by a quickly stammered, “I’m sure you’re lovely at what you do, Blaine, but I’ve taken a Vow that forbids me from engaging in such activities.”
Blaine chuckles, unleashing a bright smile as he begins working at the fastenings of his breeches. “You act as though you are the first Brother who has partaken of our services here,” he says
“How did you—“
“You think me too simple to recognize a man of the Night’s Watch in his uniform?” Blaine asks, his smile not faltering for a second. “You smell of winter, like it’s soaked into your bones.”
“I won’t dishonor my vows,” Jon says, pressing his body further into the door as Blaine takes another step forward. “Even if my other Brothers have chosen to ignore that part, I will not.”
Blaine pushes forward again, a scant three feet away. Jon can sense the heat radiating from his body, a light sheen of sweat against Blaine’s skin. H feels warm as well, pulls at the collar of his coat to cool down.
“For a man of so many words,” Blaine says, “you’re ignoring those right in front of your face. If I am right, you vowed to ‘take no wife’ and ‘father no children’, correct? Swore them in front of a tree, for all your Gods to hear?”
Jon nods. “Yes, I did. And I know the life of a bastard, Blaine. I don’t want to thrust it upon others.”
Blaine takes the final step forward. They’re nearly nose to nose as Blaine trails a finger along the neckline of Jon’s coat. His smile becomes impossibly wider.
“Well, it’s a good thing I can’t get pregnant, then,” Blaine murmurs, before learning in to slot their lips together.
