Author's Note: Re-posting all my old ASOIAF fic from my other account. This is embarrassingly old, it was written in 2008. It's more of a fragment of a scene than a complete story, apologies in advance for the abrupt ending.

Jon slowly climbed the steps that led to his bedchamber. He wasn't thoroughly drunk, he'd only had a few cups of mead more than would have been wise, but the light from the candle was scarce and anyway he was feeling dizzy. He still couldn't believe it.

His father was letting him join the Night's Watch.

He'd been as surprised as everyone else when Lord Eddard had called his family before dinner to tell him the news.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it so?" his father had asked him. There was a pained look in his eyes, as if he didn't want to let him go, but Jon had nodded eagerly.

"Yes," he'd said, being completely honest in his reply. Robb would have Winterfell, the girls would marry some powerful lord, Bran and Rickon would serve Robb as his right-hand men. A bastard had no place in all of this. "There's nothing else I would like better," he simply said, and his father had relaxed slightly and nodded.

The king and his entourage had dined with them, as always, so had been no time to talk with Robb and the others afterwards.

Jon had sat with the serving men and the guards, and they'd all crowded around to offer him their congratulations and share jokes, warning him in a mocking voice that the grumkins took a great liking in eating sour-looking bastards. So Jon had done his best to laugh and drink with them, answering back to every jest and toast.

Every now and then he stole a glance to the raised dais. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. He briefly wondered if he had been mentioned at all in their conversation. At one point he thought that the king was looking straight at him while talking with Lord Eddard, and he quickly lowered his heat to his plate.

When he gazed up again King Robert had turned his attention to his lady wife, and it was Rickon who looked at Jon and waved his pudgy hand at him from his place just behind the dais. Jon grinned back at his baby brother, though Sansa had noticed them and was already scolding Rickon for forgetting his manners.

Robb looked up to see what all that commotion was about, but when he met Jon's eyes he turned abruptly and said something to Theon. He seemed annoyed. Then he never looked Jon's way for the rest of the evening.

After a while, Jon stopped looking at his family, talked a bit more and drank a lot more.

Now he was only a few steps below, but someone was blocking the way to his chamber. Jon raised his candle a few inches. Paused.

"Greyjoy," he said in a flat voice.

"Snow," Theon replied in his usual annoying drawl. He didn't move, standing with one hand on his waist and holding a wineskin with another. He took a sip. Judging from the way he swayed, it wasn't the first either.

"Out of the way, Greyjoy, I want to sleep," Jon said when it became clear that he wouldn't leave.

In the candlelight, he could see Theon's smirk. "You're so cold," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hands. "In truth, the Wall is probably the best place for you. To think I came here tonight with only your best interests at heart," he added, grabbing Jon's arm as the younger boy tried to shoulder him aside in the small passageway.

Jon uttered a curse and straightened the candle that had almost fallen to the floor.

"Why are you in such a hurry to go back to your frozen room?" Theon asked, still holding his arm. "Don't you want to kiss a girl at least once before reaching your precious Wall?"

Jon snorted. So he'd come to taunt him because of that. Ass, he thought.

"How do you know I never kissed a girl?" he asked, jerking his arm back, but though Theon looked relaxed his grip was strong. The few years that set them apart were a huge disadvantage for Jon.

"Kissing your sister on the cheek doesn't count," replied Theon Greyjoy idly, as if he'd been reading his thoughts. "But speaking of sisters. There's this girl who just can't take her eyes off me, and her sister is really pretty. I was in a mind of paying them a visit tonight."

"Good night to you, then," Jon replied icily, but as he had imagined Theon Greyjoy made no motion of moving aside or even letting go of his arm.

"Won't you come along?" Theon asked, clearly amused by his fruitless struggles.

"Why should I?" snorted Jon.

"Why shouldn't you?" the other replied immediately.

"I'm going to join the Watch," Jon snapped back. "I'll swear a vow to wed no wife and father no children."

Theon shrugged. "I never asked you to wed the wench," he said.

"You're drunk," Jon said. "Go to sleep. Alone or with your girl, I couldn't care less."

"You really have no interest in girls?" the older boy asked, sounding amused.

Jon ignored him, trying to pull his arm back. Theon's grip on his arm only strengthened as he almost effortlessly pushed Jon against the wall. He leaned against the younger boy and kissed him on the mouth, hard.

Jon froze for a moment, then he gathered all of his strenght to shoulder Theon aside and climb the last few steps to his room. That ass! What had he been thinking?

And what was he feeling? Shock, mostly. Surprise. Disgust too, at the idea of Theon Greyjoy being his first and probably last kiss.

Making a sound that was half a sigh and half a snort he opened the door and stepped inside, but before he could close the door behind himself Theon Greyjoy entered his room.

Jon set down his candle and turned to him, clenching his fists in fury. "This has gone on for long enough," he spat out. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like to you, bastard?" Theon replied easily, stepping towards him. "You really are as pure as a maiden."

Jon's face reddened as blood rushed up to his face, but he couldn't reply. His breath was knocked out of him as Theon pushed him back brusquely.

The back of his legs hit hard against the bed and he stumbled, biting back a cry of pain, fighting for balance.

Theon's smile didn't leave his face for a second as he pushed one hand over Jon's shoulder and pushed the struggling boy onto the bed. Jon had to bite back his cry when Theon kissed him again. His left hand deftly blocked the punch aimed at his stomach, and after a brief struggle Theon pinned both of Jon's hands above his head.