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!
probably two more parts after this one, woop woop!
There isn’t much talking after that— or at least, not much talking that actually makes sense. Jon babbles as Blaine tosses him unceremoniously on the bed, words and phrases of gibberish interspersed with groans and whimpers. His breeches disappear along with the rest of his clothing and suddenly he’s naked, spread out against the furs on the bed like the prey to Blaine’s predator. His arms stretch over his head, muscles taut, waiting in anticipation.
Blaine glances over him appreciatively and Jon finds it hard to be embarrassed when Blaine stares at his cock like he’s hungry for it. Jon’s never seen that look before, so desperate and wanting, and it makes him shiver agreeably from his scalp to his toes.
“What would you like?” Blaine asks, discarding the last of his clothing until they are both bared to each other. Jon tries to keep his eyes above Blaine’s chest but he fails spectacularly, roving over the other man’s strong biceps and large, warm hands which are resting on a trim waist and oh— that’s another man’s penis. He’s seen one before, of course, bathing with his brothers and wrestling in the yard with other men in town, but never one with intent, hard and flushed and wanting. Jon gulps, throat jumping, and rips his eyes away from Blaine’s cock back up to his face. His smiling, laughing face. Jon flushes.
“I’m sorry?”
“What would you like?” Blaine repeats, stepping closer until he’s kneeling on the bed between Jon’s spread legs, far enough away where they aren’t touching, but close enough where Jon wants to reach up and reel him in. “There are many things you can ask of me.” He sidles up the bed and Jon has to spread his legs to allow room. Blaine pitches forward quickly, brackets his hands on either side of Jon’s waist and looms over top of him, hips kept apart. “What,” Blaine says again, leaning in to nip at the exposed skin of Jon’s collarbone, “would you like?”
“Everything,” Jon breathes, exhale swallowed by Blaine’s inhale before the man leans in to capture Jon’s lips with his own.
The sensation feels different when lying down. There’s purpose behind Blaine’s actions, his lips sliding over Jon’s like a hand over water, just barely skimming the surface before moving away. There are gentle kisses along Jon’s cheeks, atop his brow, on his eyelids, before Blaine moves back to his mouth. Jon surges up, then, gathers the hang of this whole ‘kissing’ thing and parts Blaine’s lips with his tongue as his hands fly to Blaine’s shoulders. They’re strong, muscle rippling underneath his fingers as Blaine supports his weight on his hands. Jon wonders what else Blaine could do with that strength, a thousand images flying through his mind of Blaine gripping him tight and steady, throwing him up against a wall and keeping them there with nothing more than his arms and his cock. Jon bucks his hips at the thought and they both wrench their mouths away with a groan as they rub together, hard and insistent and so damn good.
Blaine relaxes his weight, eases himself down onto Jon’s body until they’re pressed together from shoulder to ankle, Jon’s cock leaving a wet trail where it bobs against Blaine’s hip.
“I want to suck you,” Blaine says, mouthing over Jon’s neck and leaving what Jon is sure will be a fairly spectacular bruise. “Want you in my mouth.”
Jon keens. “Yeah that’s,” he starts, but swallows, can’t focus. “Yeah,” he finishes weakly.
Blaine chuckles and slides down the bed, lips and teeth and tongue creating a hot trail from Jon’s neck, down his chest— paying a moment’s attention to Jon’s nipples, sucking and swirling over them, catching them on his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue— across his hipbones and down down down to the soft, fleshy skin of Jon’s thigh. Blaine inhales deeply, noses at the meeting of Jon’s leg and hipbone, brushes against Jon’s cock with his cheek.
“Please,” Jon says, more of a whimper than words, and Blaine takes pity on him.
“You can put your hands in my hair,” Blaine says with a twist of a grin, bending down and looking at Jon through his eyelashes as he places his forearm across the expanse of Jon’s hips. “I like it.”
He sinks down, mouth hot and wet and tight and so fucking good around the head of Jon’s cock.
