Prompt was: "(future!fic i think but it can be Au whatever) Sansa finds herself feeling oddly jealous and angry, when she see's that another woman has taken a liking to Sandor. This would be before any feelings they have for each other has been shared? You can take it anywhere you want smut whatever, I'm easy ;)"

I've done a high school AU for it, because there can never be enough high school AUs… especially ones dealing with jealousy. IMO.

It didn't turn out exactly as I had wanted it, but I suppose I'm pleased enough with it.

Sansa tucked her hair behind one of her ears and shot a sideways glance at Jeyne who was sitting next to her on the home bleachers, which lined the track of the football field. She was supposed to be paying attention to her boyfriend, Joffrey. He was the team's kicker, even though he was only a freshman, like herself. The only reason he was on the team was because his grandfather was on the school board and had donated a lot of money. That wasn't to say he was a bad player, he wasn't, but freshman weren't usually allowed on the varsity football team.

Instead of paying attention to Joffrey, though, she couldn't take her eyes off of the team's massive fullback, Sandor Clegane. Everyone called him 'The Hound' and he barely spoke to anyone but his teammates and was infamously the only member of the varsity football team who refused to wear a letterman's jacket. Legend of his older brother, Gregor, still made the rounds at school. Apparently, he was nearly 8 feet tall and had played linebacker on the varsity team for three years, and during one game, he'd snapped a kid's back and paralyzed him for life.

Sansa herself knew the Hound better than most people. Joffrey was well known at school for throwing parties after football games, he was also well known for getting the linebackers to rough up his girlfriend for him sometimes. After the parties, Sandor would usually give her a ride home as he lived down the street from her. Alone in his car, he'd tell her about himself and his family. He told her she was the only person who knew what really happened to his face. He had burn scars covering nearly half of his face and most people thought it was from an electrical fire that had happened in his room that lit his bed on fire. He had told Sansa the real story of it, though – that he'd been playing with one of his brother's toys and his brother had pushed him into their lit fireplace.

Jeyne nudged her and Sansa shook herself out of her stupor and turned to her best friend with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Joffrey is waving to you!" Jeyne told her, pointing to where her boyfriend stood next to the home team bench. Sansa turned and waved back, giving him a big smile. Something distracted her, though - a flash of brown hair and their school colours streaking across the track. Sansa's eyes followed the head cheerleader, Margaery Tyrell, as she threw herself at Sandor. He took a step back, but caught her all the same, lifting her up in his arms with his hands on her waist. Margaery's brother Loras was the team's quarterback and one of the most popular boys in school and as head cheerleader, she hung out with the football team a lot, but Sansa had never seen her show any interest in Sandor. She was surprised to find herself jealous. Of Margaery? Why? She had Joffrey and Sandor was kind of scary, but to tell it true, he treated her better than Joffrey ever had.

After the game, everyone went back to Joffrey's sprawling mansion for his usual party. Sansa watched from a corner as Margaery giggled and flirted with Sandor, sitting on his lap. He didn't say much, just occasionally nodded in response to her. At least when they spent time together, he actually talked to her. She spent a while longer seething in jealousy, staring over at Sandor where Margaery sat on his lap, before throwing herself at Joffrey.

Sansa cuddled up to him and let him grope her and sloppily kiss her neck. She drank the burning alcoholic drinks that were placed in her hands, collapsing sloppily against Joffrey, who shoved his hand down her pants. She pushed his hand away, but leaned in to kiss him instead. He pulled her close and she straddled him, pushing her tongue into his mouth. They made out for a while before Joffrey pushed her off of him and got up, pulling her along with him. She looked back at where Sandor was and found his eyes on her, he looked surly and his brow was furrowed, but she quickly looked away and began to let Joffrey drag her up to his bedroom. They had just reached the stairs when she felt a massive warm hand on her shoulder and looked up to find Sandor standing above her, stopping her from following Joffrey up the stairs.

"The girl's parents will be wondering where she is and I have work to do in the morning," he told Joffrey.

"What business is it of yours, dog?" Joffrey asked, pulling on Sansa's wrist once again.

"I drive her home," he said. "Come girl, it's time to go." He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him, draping her over his shoulder, Joffrey let go with a scowl when he did, knowing he was no match for the much larger boy.

Sansa let herself be carried out of the party and put into the passenger seat of Sandor's big black pickup truck. It was a temperamental vehicle, she'd seen a few other people try to drive it before, but it always seemed to work just fine for its owner. He pulled into the street and drove away from the loud party that was still in full swing.

"You should be more careful of him," the Hound said, his eyes on the road. "You've had far too much to drink and you know how he gets. Text your brother, tell him you're staying at your friend's house… what's her name? That girl you talk to."

He meant Jeyne. Sansa texted Robb, who would be able to cover for her to their parents. She wondered if Sandor would actually drive her to Jeyne's house though…

"Why? Are you dropping me off at hers?" she asked.

"And bother her parents who are friends of yours? No. I'm not stupid," he said. "I'm taking you to my house."

Despite living just down the street from him, she'd never actually been to his house. She knew which one was his, but he'd never invited her over before… come to think of it, she'd never really seen anyone else go in or out, either.

"Your house?" Sansa asked, her drunk brain lagging. "Why?"

"You're fourteen and way too drunk to be dealing with your parents." He glanced over at her and frowned. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Shouldn't you be taking Margaery home with you instead?" she asked, pouting and crossing her arms.

"Who?" He genuinely sounded like he hadn't a clue whom she was speaking of.

"The head cheerleader? She was in your lap all night."

"Oh. Her." Sandor shrugged. "I have no interest in her."

"That's not what it looked like," Sansa pushed.

The Hound didn't answer, instead, concentrated on driving them to his house. Sansa wondered who he lived with… not his parents, they were dead, and his brother had long since graduated and moved away.

"How old are you?" she asked. He was awfully big to be in high school.

"Eighteen."

"You should ask Margaery to be your girlfriend," Sansa said. She didn't know why she was saying these things. She was angry with him for letting the girl sit on him and talk to him and she didn't even know why. Clearly she meant nothing as he didn't even know her name. "She clearly wants you."

"Don't want her," he grumbled.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Why do you care girl?"

"You call me girl a lot… do you even know my name?" He gave her a sidelong glance at that.

"Sansa Stark," he mumbled. "Do you know mine?"

"Everyone knows your name, Sandor Clegane," Sansa told him, rolling her eyes.

"Everyone knows your name as well." Sansa shook her head at that.

"I'm only a freshman, no one knows me," she insisted.

"Everyone knows your brother and they know you by association. Besides, even if no one knew your brother, they'd still all know who you are." Sansa left it after that and was silent until they pulled into his driveway. The drive had shaken up her stomach and when the car stopped and he got out, she opened up her door and threw up on the ground, just as Sandor came to a stop in front of the mess she had made. He raised an eyebrow at her and then picked her up and pulled her from the truck, lifting her over the mess of vomit.

He cradled her bridal style in his arms as he walked up to his house and fiddled with his keys for a moment before opening his front door. Sansa looked around as they went in and found it to be surprisingly much cleaner than she had expected. He brought her into his bathroom and sat her on the floor next to the toilet.

"Stay there," he told her. "I'll get you something to drink."

He came back a while later with a glass of water and a bottle of Gatorade and handed her the water.

"Rinse your mouth out and drink some water. I'll put you to bed after."

Sansa rinsed her mouth out and then sipped on the Gatorade he'd gotten for her, it seemed to settle her stomach a bit and she followed him into his bedroom. It was surprisingly sparse for a room belonging to a teenage boy. The whole house was actually surprisingly undecorated and plain.

"Do you live alone?" Sansa asked, wondering how he paid his rent while he was in high school.

"Yeah. I work as a bouncer when I don't have football practice or games." He threw her his school hoodie and a pair of shorts. "You can wear those to sleep in."

Sansa thanked him and then began undressing. He quickly turned from the room and she heard him turn on the television in the front room. The sweatshirt smelled nice even though it looked a bit dirty. Perhaps it was just that it smelled like Sandor himself. She rubbed her nose into it before pulling her clothes off and sliding into his shorts before pulling the sweatshirt over her head, breathing in deeply as it slid over her head. Once she was finished, she put her hair up with the ponytail holder around her wrist and walked into the front room. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, looking very uncomfortable and staring blankly at the television.

"Thank you," she told him softly, once again.

"Sure."

"Are you coming to bed?"

He shook his head. "I'll sleep out here."

"Perhaps if I was Margaery you would come to bed with me."

"Stop bringing her up," he grumbled and stood from the couch, flicking of the TV and tossing the remote onto the table. "I've told you, Little Bird. I don't want her."

He walked up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. Sansa thought he might kiss her for a second and just stared up at him, but he didn't. He turned her around and gently pushed her in front of him, walking down the hall with her. He guided her back into his bedroom and pulled back the covers for her, gesturing for her to get in. At first, she thought he was just going to tuck her into bed and then go to sleep out in the front room on the couch, but he went to the closet and pulled off his shirt, throwing it onto a chair. He pulled a tshirt out of a drawer in his closet and pulled it on, then shucked out of his jeans and pulled on a pair of basketball shorts before coming back over to the bed and sliding in under the covers with her.

"If I stay with you, will you stop bringing that girl up?" he asked.

"I… I'm jealous of her," Sansa mumbled. She wouldn't have told him, except she was still drunk. She shouldn't have told him.

"Jealous… why?" Sandor sounded utterly confused. "You could go out for cheerleading if you wanted… they'd probably take you."

Sansa shook her head. He was so clueless, wasn't he? "I'm not jealous because she's head cheerleader. I'm jealous because she was all over you all night."

Sandor looked rather stunned. "You were all over Joffrey…"

"To make you jealous," Sansa mumbled and looked away from him. She could feel herself blush brightly as he snorted a laugh.

"To make me jealous of Joffrey for having you?" he sounded incredulous as he asked it. "Don't be ridiculous Sansa. There isn't a thing you could do that would make me more jealous than I already am."

"Wait… what?" Was… was he saying that he… liked her? Wanted her?

"You heard me. Go to sleep."

"You can't just tell me you're jealous of my boyfriend and then tell me to go to sleep like it didn't just happen."

Sandor grumbled and reached over to Sansa. He pushed her onto her back and climbed on top of her. His breath was warm on her face and didn't smell at all like alcohol, which was good, she thought absently, as he'd driven her home from the party earlier. She'd never been this close to his face and she couldn't help but glance at his scars before gazing up into his eyes. He sighed and frowned at her.

"This isn't what you want, girl."

"This is exactly what I want," Sansa brought her hands up to him, wrapping one around his neck to pull his lips to hers and winding the fingers of her other hand through his hair. He kissed her for a while; long enough for her to notice that he was a much better kisser than Joffrey could hope to be any time soon. She didn't want to stop, but he pulled away.

"We should have sex," Sansa whispered and he choked on his breath.

"You're drunk. Go to sleep."

"No, really, I want to," she said, pushing her body up against him. Sandor shook his head and rolled off of her.

"Go to sleep Little Bird," he told her, pushing his fingers along her temple. "We can tomorrow if you still want to, but not tonight – not while you're drunk."

Sansa sighed unhappily but snuggled into his arms and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It didn't take her very long to fall asleep in his arms. It was exciting sleeping in a bed with a boy. She'd never done it before and was glad that she was getting to sleep with him, he was so big and strong and having his arms holding her tight felt nicer than most things she could imagine.