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For the first time since its inception, the King’s Landing Academy of Dance was silent at 4:10pm on a Tuesday. Arya and twenty-ish other dancers stood in the nearly pitch black basement studio, unsure if this was some sort of new choreography “challenge” from Jaqen H'ghar or what. It was unlikely, considering the instructor in question had told them to hold tight before he immediately left the room, likely in search of the circuit breakers.
Arya successfully located her dance bag to retrieve her phone. She’d always been good at navigating in the dark. A missed emergency alert warned of a freak blizzard that was rolling through town. They had all seen the storm watch, but the last actual blizzard in King’s Landing was nearly 60 years ago. No one believed it would hit, and it wasn’t supposed to be in full effect until after 9pm.
Arya and Lommy used the flashlight on her phone to exit the studio and take the steps upstairs. When they came out of the stairwell, they were nearly plowed over in shock. Instead of the view to which they were accustomed of bustling people and dusty streets, they found heaps of white snow whipping through the air. A telephone pole lay flattened across the road.
“I always knew we would die in an apocalypse,” Lommy proclaimed solemnly.
“Don’t be dramatic,” Arya shoved him. “This is practically a light winter breeze in the North. We wouldn’t even cancel school.”
“Aren’t you all like the descendants of yetis though?”
“Shut up.”
Jaqen canceled class and ordered everyone to go home asap. Most of the students lived on campus, which was about a 5-minute walk away. Arya made quick work of her dance attire and pulled her jeans on over her tights. She sent a quick “you home?” text before dashing towards the back entrance. Lommy caught her arm.
“Where you going then? Campus is the other way.”
“I’m going to go to Jon’s,” Arya lied smoothly. “We yetis have to stick together during the apocalypse.”
Ignoring Lommy’s sardonic expression, Arya hurried on her way, wrapping an extra sweatshirt around her head as a makeshift hat.
The wind was fast and nearly tumbled her over. It wasn’t terribly cold though, not really. Not like a true storm in the North. It did sting her eyes as she focused step by step on landmarks taking her the 10-block walk to Street o’ Steel apartments. It was lucky that she was so fit from years of dance. Instead of tiring, she felt her energy rising with the exercise. It was practically a dance in itself, and she found herself choreographing as she bent her head against the wind. 8-count phrases flashed across her mind, grounded in a harsh staccato, alternating jerky and flowing movements. Arya longed to create combinations that reflected how peacefully formidable she felt in the storm.
By the time she reached her destination, she was sweaty underneath her layers of clothing. She swung the main door open to enter the vestibule where she buzzed apartment 210. Impatient after a few seconds, she buzzed repeatedly in quick succession.
“What?!” she heard a voice boom through the intercom.
“It’s me, stupid,” Arya replied. “Let me up.”
There was a longer pause than Arya expected, but he buzzed her in.
She took the stairs two at a time and was surprised to find Gendry in the hallway, arms crossed and leaning against his door. Her breath caught in her chest in an unfamiliar way. Ever since they’d started sleeping together, her body seemed to have a different response to him. She supposed having 3 orgasms in one night could do that to a person, like Pavlovian conditioning or something.
“Did you lose your phone?” he asked drily.
Arya’s hand dug into her pocket and saw 12 missed notifications.
Me: you home?
Gendry: yeah. why?
Gendry: aren’t you in class?
Gendry: what’s with the snow? I can hardly see out my window.
Gendry: the radio said the buses aren’t running
Gendry: you’re not coming over are you?
Gendry: arya, don’t come over
Gendry: it’s not safe
Gendry: arya
Gendry: arya! What the fuck
Gendry: I texted Lommy and he said you’re at Jon’s?
Gendry: I texted Jon and he said you’re not there
Gendry: Arya seriously where are you?
“Oh,” she said sheepishly. “Sorry. I was walking here and couldn’t hear anything with the wind.”
Gendry glared at her darkly before opening his door and ushering her in.
“Why’d you have to text Jon?” she hissed at him. “Now he’s going to be all suspicious.”
“Why did you come all the way here in a blizzard?” he shot back.
Arya’s eyebrows contracted.
“Just felt like it,” she replied. “You got some extra towels or something? I’m getting muck all over your floor.”
Gendry huffed and grabbed some newspapers, arranging them at her feet for her to slip her dirty boots onto. She handed him her dance bag as she started taking off her layers of sweatshirts.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out to see “Favorite Brother” flashing. Gendry glanced at it and looked at her with his eyes wide.
“Hey Jon,” she answered smoothly. “Can you believe this storm we’re having?.....I know right….Nah, I’m fine…Yeah, I popped over to Gendry’s.”
Arya glanced at Gendry, whose eyes were now almost falling out of their sockets. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“He’s helping me with my senior sem project…Oh, I told Lommy I was going to yours so he wouldn’t freak out that I was walking all the way here…I’m a grown ass person, Jon. I can walk as far as I want in a storm! …Yeah, I’ll just sleep on his couch like I always do…oh my god don’t be ridiculous…stop it, Jon…just be glad I’m not there interrupting you and Ygritte! After that one time I almost rinsed my ears out with wildfire….Oh I know she’s there don’t try to deny it….yeah, you be safe too. Love you bye.”
Winking at a flabbergasted Gendry, she tossed her cell phone on his table next to her dance bag and began rummaging through it. Frowning, she dug a bit deeper until she felt him set something on the table next to her.
“My water bottle!” she exclaimed. “You refilled it already?”
He had indeed, with lots of ice, just as she liked it. She took several big gulps, never taking her eyes off him. He looked at war with himself, still irritated that she hadn’t responded to his texts during a snow storm, but also distracted by movement in her throat as she swallowed. She smirked at him and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
He stared at her for a moment before huffing and shuffling back to the sink full of dishes he appeared to be in the middle of.
Not one to be ignored, Arya hopped up to sit on the counter next to him.
“It looks like all the evening classes will be canceled tonight and probably tomorrow’s too,” she chattered. “This dumb city’ll probably be shut down through the weekend if we get all the snow they’re predicting.”
Gendry kept his eyes on his dishes and merely grunted in response. Frowning, Arya hopped down and opened a cupboard to retrieve a dishcloth. She hip checked him to make space for her to start drying.
“They can just air dry,” he grumbled.
“What’s your problem today, Gendry?” Arya exclaimed.
His hands stopped washing dishes but he didn’t move or say anything.
“Do you not want me here?” she demanded.
“’course I do,” Gendry replied, shutting his eyes.
“Then what’s the problem?” Arya demanded.
Gendry grabbed the dishcloth from her to dry his hands.
“The problem?” he repeated. “The problem is that this is getting messy, Arya. Sneaking around. Having to keep track of what lies we told to which person? I hate that.”
“So you want to just tell everyone we’re fucking?” Arya asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Uh, no, I rather value my life, thanks, and your brothers would lose their damn minds,” Gendry spat out.
Arya rolled her eyes.
“Oh, stop, they’re not in charge of me,” she replied.
Cautiously, she stepped forward and brought her arms around his neck. Feeling his breath catch made her arms tingle.
“I know you don’t like lying,” she tilted her face up to him. “But the truth is only for us, as long as we want it to be. No one is entitled to know what we do.”
Gendry’s arms came around her slowly.
“Yeah, that’s true,” he replied quietly, worry still furrowing his brows.
Arya rose up on her toes to press her mouth to his. His response was immediate, tightening his arms around her and tilting his head to meet her lips just right. Gods he was a good kisser. How they were friends for nearly 10 years without doing this, Arya would never know.
When she felt his fingertips begin to dip under her sweatshirt, Arya smiled and pulled away.
“I need a shower,” she sighed. “I’m all sweaty from classes and my jog over here.”
“Well, that was stupid of you,” Gendry teased. “Who goes jogging in a blizzard?”
“A wolf,” she grinned at him, walking backward towards the bathroom. Hand on the door, she met his eyes and added, “Or maybe someone who wants to be with you uninterrupted for the next 24 hours.”
Gendry’s eyebrows shot up.
“Your dangerously close to being labeled romantic, Arya Stark,” he quipped.
“I’m full of surprises.”
Arya gave him one last searing look before disappearing into the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, lest Gendry get the idea that she was just here for shower sex. Shower sex was something that should never be entirely off the table, in Arya’s opinion, but that was not her main objective today.
__________________________________________________________
Freshly showered and still wrapped in one of Gendry’s big fluffy towels, Arya dug under his sink for the travel case she’d stored in there. If Gendry had noticed, he hadn’t said anything. She found a hair tie and threw her damp strands into a quick French braid. Little pieces escaped around her face, but she didn’t bother trying to pin them back. She wasn’t going to dance class after all.
She applied deodorant, lip balm, and even fished out some rarely used face moisturizer from the bottom of her bag. The cold winds had done a number on her skin. She gave herself a once over in the mirror, pausing at the shimmer in her gray eyes.
“What’s got you so excited, my darling?” she could almost hear her father’s voice, gruff yet endearing. Their connection had been strong. He’d always been able to read her and understand her, better than anyone else in the family.
“A blizzard in King’s Landing,” she imagined telling him. “Winter has come for the crownlands.”
She felt a tightness in her throat and an ache hovering just above her chest. She closes her eyes. Oh, but she did not want to feel the grief today. Not when she could hear whipping white winds outside the bathroom window. Not today.
As she put her toiletries back in their case, she felt her finger tips touch metal and smooth wood. She smiled as she pulled out the earrings Gendry had made for her years ago in his first metalworking class. He was an artist and they were perfect. She found an alcohol wipe to clean them before putting them on.
She cracked the door open to make a dash for her dance bag that held her change of clothes, but found it right in front of the bathroom door. She grinned at how Gendry foolishly chose to be considerate when he could’ve let her walk through his apartment in just a towel. His loss, she supposed.
She retreated to the bathroom to put on the black lace underwear and bralette set she’d bought a few weeks ago. She’d kept them securely zipped up in the inner compartment of her bag, thinking of how mercilessly Lommy had teased her when they’d been shopping together.
“I know you’re banging someone,” he’d declared. “I’m just not sure who yet.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she’d responded, laughing. “But I dress for myself, not the person I’m banging.”
While she still felt complete conviction that she had bought the outfit mostly for herself, she had to admit, as she adjusted her breasts against the lace, that it would be awkward as fuck if she freaked Gendry out. Or what if he laughed at her and thought it was a joke? It had been a colossal step for them to go from best friends to…lovers? Gods she hated that word. Best friends who fucked? No, that didn’t sound quite right either. She didn’t know what to label their new relationship dynamic, and she was equally uncertain of if its parameters included sexy lingerie. Well, she resolved, if it didn’t feel right in the moment, she could just get naked super quick and he’d never know the difference.
She tugged on her stretchy jeans before slipping into a gray sweater wrap that felt so soft against her skin. With one final glance in the mirror, she pronounced herself satisfied and opened the bathroom door.
She found Gendry bustling around the kitchen in oven mitts, which might’ve been the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
“Need any help?” she asked, leaning her shoulder against the wall.
“Nah, I just heated up the leftover casserole we made on Sunday,” Gendry replied, his back to her. “I figure simpler is…”
His sentence stopped abruptly when he turned and saw her. She felt his eyes on her like a caress.
“Better,” he grunted. “Simpler is better.”
“Always true,” she responded, her voice a bit breathier than she’d prefer. “Is there any more lettuce for a salad?”
“Salad is not blizzard food,” he protested.
“What do you think all the rabbits eat while the storm rages around them?”
“I dunno, pizza?”
Arya ignored him and moved to dig in the fridge.
Within 20 minutes they were seated in Gendry’s living room, her in a chair by the window and him on the couch. They ate their supper in companionable silence, staring out the window as the snow fell brutally. They couldn’t even see the building next door.
“I wish you had a fireplace,” Arya sighed. “We’d always light a fire during storms at home.”
“I might have some candles,” he offered.
She considered briefly, then nodded. He disappeared into his bedroom. As she watched the storm, Arya’s mind flitted back to the phrases she’d imagined choreographing as she’d hurried to Gendry’s. She stood up to pace in front of the window, occasionally brushing the floor with her feet or blocking shapes with her arms. The storm was fierce, yet she found her movements wanted to be light and loose now. She spun briefly before sinking down into a fourth position plie. She felt the grounding energy beneath her before transferring her weight to her hand on the floor. She arched her back and attempted to sweep her leg up. She envisioned some sort of knee spin resulting in her rising again, like the storm. She repeated the sequence a few times, trying to find the right transition that effortlessly linked it all together. She heard Gendry shuffling around in the background but lost herself in choreographing, until she heard him clear his throat behind her.
“Errr, is this too much? For fake firelight?” he asked.
She turned to face him and realized he had to have lit about 30 tea lights all over the living room. Her brain flashed back to their many movie nights, Arya adamantly declaring them to be an “anti rom-com zone.” How she’d lamented to him about Sansa’s romantic ideals…looking around at their snowbound evening alone together, bathed in candlelight, they were the epitome of rom-com tropes. Yet, she didn’t hate it.
Arya says no, it’s not too much.
He helps her with her choreography. He’s no dancer but has an artist’s eye for shapes and contrast. After a while, she just moves and he watches. She feels sweat running down her back. She pauses, attempting not to let her apprehension show, before she reaches for the tie on her wrap and loosens it. She sees his eyes following her hands. She swallows her nerves, letting the garment fall from her body to the floor. The cool air washes over her skin. She is painfully aware of how deep the V goes between her breasts, showing skin nearly down to the top of her stomach where it meets a few more inches of lace encircling her waist. Gendry hasn’t taken his eyes off of her, and he looks miles away from laughing, which soothes the excruciating vulnerability coursing through her. She sinks back down into her starting position and runs the combination again, a little slower.
“What about the transition back to standing?” she asked him when she finishes.
“Huh?”
“The transition back to standing,” she repeats. “Before the fouetté turns. It feels forced and choppy.”
He shakes his head as if to clear it.
“Show me again,” he requests.
She dances through the phrases a few times in a row, as every time she stops he seems to still be concentrating. She’s getting out of breath and breaks for a drink of water.
“It doesn’t look forced,” Gendry says quietly. “And I think the choppiness makes sense in the sequence. I think it’s…I think you make it powerful and beautiful.”
The air around them feels heavy and dark, like it would crumble into sand if Arya could capture it in her palm. She desperately wants to make a joke, say something about how he would probably think the macarena was a masterpiece as long as her nipples were showing…but he’s serious. And she finds that she wants that.
She starts the combination from the beginning, her slowest run through yet. The wind howls behind her and she can sense the candlelight flickering across her skin. She meets Gendry’s gaze as she sinks to the floor before closing her eyes and arching her ribcage. She holds it longer than she had previously done, connecting with how her breath enters her body, before exhaling into the next movements.
When she finishes the combination and meets his eyes, neither of them say anything. He seems completely transfixed by her.
Her feet walk her forward without conscious thought until she’s standing in front of him. She feels raw as she waits for him to do something. Anything really.
Slowly, meeting her eyes as if in a question, Gendry reach his hands to set them on her waist. Her eyes flutter closed at how good the contact feels. It’s like her whole body is buzzing with ache for his touch. He traces his thumbs over the lace pattern adorning her ribcage, just under breasts. Her hands glide into his hair, so short and soft. She doesn’t pull it, even though she knows that makes his blood boil. She’s enjoying this slowness. It doesn’t make her want to speed up, like usual. It makes her want to go deeper and feel everything. Yes, she wants to feel everything with him.
His eyes trace past her collar bones, flitting between her breasts. His hands seem to tremble as he pulls her forward so he can press his lips to the very bottom of her sternum. Her gasp echoes across the room at the feeling of his tongue against her bare skin there, his stubble brushing the insides of her breasts. He moans in response, slowly kissing up her chest. Arya briefly wonders if the lace is tickling his nose. He sucks a love mark just underneath one of her freckles, causing heat to pool between her legs. She sinks down into his lap, straddling him. He kisses his way up to her neck, bringing a wave of heat and longing to crest at her jaw. When his thumbs gently swipe across her nipples, she takes his face in her hands to crashes their lips together.
It feels so good to kiss him, so they kiss, and kiss, and kiss. She’s dizzy like she’s done endless pirouettes without spotting. But she centers herself on his fingers dancing across her chest, stomach, and back. Unable to withstand the tension in her body for one more moment, her teeth find his bottom lip and she slowly sinks her center against the hardness between them. He groans and his hands fly down to grip her bottom, rocking her against him, still slow, but fierce. Arya loves being desired by him; feeling him gasp and tremble against her. When he pulls her hips even tighter against him, her eyes roll back in her head. They had at least 4 layers of clothes between them still; it was unrealistic for it to feel this fucking good. Yet it did.
She gasps as the tension builds between her legs. Arya can feel every inch of Gendry as he grinds her down his length. She muffles a cry when he rolls her nipple between her fingers.
“Don’t be quiet,” he entreats her. “If you like what I’m doing, let me hear it.”
Easy for him to say, she thought, he wasn’t half naked and dressed in lingerie. Vulnerability washed over her again as he rubbed his thumbs along the lace over her ribcage. With swift impatience, she tugged his tshirt up over his head and began kissing down his stomach. She mouthed him over his jeans, smirking when he inhaled sharply.
“Don’t be quiet,” she imitated him, eyes dancing up to his to mock him. “Let me hear you, if you like it.”
“Shut up,” he moaned.
It was their usual teasing banter, the way they’d done all their lives, except now they were horny and half-clothed. Arya pulled Gendry’s jeans off with no small struggle, and he quickly moved to reciprocate. When her pants were off, Arya reached behind her to unclasp her bralette, but he seized her wrists.
“Leave it on a little longer,” he whispered gruffly into her ear. “You look so fucking hot.”
A wave of heat rushed over her at the sound of his voice, him, desiring her. He pulled her down to lay on top of him, his back pressed against the couch. She felt herself sink deeper into the moment. The hair on his lower belly rubbed against the sensitive skin below her bellybutton, making her moan. They were so close, but she ached to be even closer. She buried her face in his neck to press kisses there, her lips buzzing from the slight scrape of his stubble, as her hands drifted all over him, looking for something to ground her.
He grabbed both her hands in one of his, kissing them, before placing them on his chest. Then both his hands drifted down to her ass, lining her hips up over his erection. He repeated his motions from earlier, pulling her down so her clit drags against him. Only being separated by thin boxer briefs and lacy underwear made the sensation stronger, and Arya can’t help but smile as she gasps.
It takes time to build pleasure like this, but for once, Arya isn’t in a rush. The blizzard rushes on outside of them and it just feels so good to touched and held and kissed. She grinds in his lap, finding her own rhythm, like an improvisation section within the choreography. Gendry asks her breathlessly a couple times if he can touch her, put his fingers or his mouth on her, but she just shakes her head and continues her dance while kissing him. The tension is building and she doesn’t dare stop.
His eyes darken when she hums and her breath speeds up. He reaches with one hand to yank down her top, freeing one breast and immediately sucking on it. His mouth is hot and insistent, nearly burning her with his furious licks. He works to free her other breast and begins rolling that nipple between his fingers. As her head drops back and she moves more desperately against him, he uses both hands to push her breasts together and buries his face there, alternating sucking and licking and pulling and rolling and all sorts of incredible things that finally make something snap inside of her.
Arya feels a scream start in her lungs, but instead of coming out her mouth, it trips down to her clit and releases there. The pleasure hits her so hard she cries out, gripping Gendry shoulders as waves and waves course through her. She’s flying through the air, fierce as a storm, as her muscles flex and arch and shimmer, and it’s a perfect landing in her partner’s arms.
Aftershocks are still darting through her as Gendry shifts their positions, his breath frantic and harsh as sits up and shifts over her, bending her backwards to rut into her harder. The armrest of the couch bites into her back, but his hands feel heavenly in her hair. She swallows his strangled moan, echoing within her mouth, as he comes against her. He is panting hard and sweaty, but even that she doesn’t mind. She closes her eyes and lets the looseness sink into her bones.
After a minute, Gendry mutters an apology about crushing her and clumsily switches their positions. She lays her head on his chest, basking in it all, before turning to look out the window. The storm still powered on.
After a while, she feels Gendry’s hands rising up on her back, gently pushing against her.
“It’s too hot,” he groaned.
“Never thought I’d hear your southron ass complaining about heat during a blizzard,” Arya looked up at him mischievously.
The answering look in his eyes made her breathless again, but with just happiness instead of horniness. She scooted up so she could feel his lips pressed to hers. His fingers were gentle as he pulled the straps back onto her shoulders and tried to set her top to rights. Eventually she had to sit up, the combined wetness between them smeared down her thighs and she didn’t hate it, but she didn’t love the stickiness. She glanced down at his boxer briefs with playful interest.
“You made a mess of me,” he chuckled “I had to have been a teenager the last time I came in my shorts.”
“Mmm I like you messy,” Arya twinkled back. “I love when you come undone like that.”
“Very romantic,” he teased, kissing her, before standing them both up.
He retreated to the bathroom, while Arya changed out of her underwear and used some of the wipes in her dance bag to clean up. She was changing into fresh sweatpants when he emerged, still naked but clean.
“Don’t take off that top?” he pleaded.
She laughed and obliged, though she did put her sweater wrap back on. He dragged her to his bed so they could cuddle and look out the window.
“You really surprised me with the whole dance of seduction,” he said softly into her ear. “When you took off your sweater, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
She smiled and nuzzled back against him.
“I’m full of surprises,” she told him cheekily.
“Praise the gods,” he murmured, pulling her closer.
They were content to watch the snow whipping about for a while as the last bit of daylight faded away.
After a time, Arya asked, “Did you ever imagine us like this before we started sleeping together?”
Gendry was oddly still and didn’t say anything for a bit.
“I dunno,” he finally replied.
“How can you not know?”
Gendry sighed.
“I mean, I guess there was never a time I wasn’t attracted to you after you turned 17 or so and got really pretty. It didn’t really hit me as a new thing. Just gradually you were still my friend, but then I was attracted to you too.”
“Did you imagine us having sex? Or cuddling after?”
“Arya,” he huffed.
“What? It’s pillowtalk. Things people who like each other do.”
“And are we those people now?”
Arya rolled away to look at him.
“Why would you even ask that?” she asked, brows furrowed with hurt.
“Sorry,” he breathed, eyes dropping down. “I just don’t really know what this is. We’ve never defined it and...”
“So what?” Arya’s defenses flashed. “Why does everything need a label or to fit in some perfect box?”
“It doesn’t,” he snapped back.
“Clearly you think it does,” she huffed.
“I do not,” Gendry insisted, stubborn as always. “But don’t get mad at me when I don’t know how to proceed since I don’t even really know what we’re doing. Gods, Arya, half the time you open your mouth I don’t know if you going to proposition me or tell me you’re done and want to go back to just being friends.”
Arya stared at his sheets, the worn jersey ones he’d bought after college.
“And now we’re lying to people and sneaking around,” he continued, a little softer. “That’s the kind of thing that messes up trust, for everyone involved.”
He sighed sharply and Arya looked up.
“I don’t want to mess things up with you,” he finally admitted, vulnerability in his eyes.
Something warm squeezed Arya’s chest and she felt the tension in her arms loosen. She took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry things have gotten messy,” she said softly. “I know you hate all the lying and I do too. I’d like to stop lying.”
His eyebrows furrowed.
“You want to end this between us?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “I just want to stop lying about it.”
“What do you want to tell people then?”
Arya cleared her throat nervously before scooting closer and lacing her hands around his shoulders. She pressed her forehead into his neck and took a deep breath.
“I’d like to tell people you’re mine,” she confessed to his Adam’s apple, before looking up into his eyes. “And I’m yours. We’re each other’s.”
He gazed at her in wonder.
“I’d like to tell people we’re together,” she finished. “That is, if you want that as well?”
Gendry nodded slowly, seemingly speechless, before cupping her face in his hands and kissing her sweetly.
“I…I want that too,” he breathed after parting from her lips. “So much.”
Arya smiled as she sunk back into his arms. He kissed her neck and shoulder before wrapping her tightly to him. There was probably more to say, but for now, they just held each other. The wind lashed wildly at their window, winding and wonderous like the almost aberration it was. Arya and Gendry looked on, here for all of it.