Work Text:
In retrospective, Theon will realize that it all happened because he missed the damned alarm.
It will also be the moment in which he will decide to quit his horrid office job the moment he finds something better, because he’s not going to put his health at risk for a job he frankly hates and that he ended up in just because of poor life decisions. (Among which listening to his asshole of a father and studying accounting rather than theater. He’s never regretted anything more. But that’s neither here nor there.)
Anyway, the hard fact is: Ramsay did fuck his life up though less than he could have in retrospective and good thing he had the bearings to get out when he could. Another hard fact is that the moment he got his shit together enough to realize how toxic that relationship was overall, he had to go to a nutritionist fast - he hadn’t quite put it together when they were still together, but the moment he did realize how thin he actually did get… well, as stated, he does care about his health, all right, and he did manage to get back on track. But since his office job is terrible and he’s the only half-competent person in accounting he tends to lose track of time, which is why he had set the alarm for lunch. Whenever it rings he goes for his lunch break, which has worked wonders for his three-obligatory-meals-each-day routine.
But, today work was just worse than usual, fuck his asshole boss wanting to go into business with Tywin Lannister and needing the accounts check and re-checked until he’s sure there’s not a single wrong percentage. Theon wants to murder Baelish most of the time and he wants to now - when the alarm rings he stands up for his break but the guy obviously stops him and says that he needs to go to Lannister’s tomorrow and today he needs everyone to be there all the time and he certainly can eat one hour later, can he?
He should have said no. Instead he says yes, damn it, and one hour turns into two turns into three and by the time it’s seven PM and he has to meet with Robb in half an hour he has barely drank some shitty coffee to avoid collapsing. Obviously Baelish wants overtime, so he texts Robb to say they can meet at Robb’s place directly - he should cancel, maybe, but damn if the prospect of letting Robb tie him up to his bed and have his sweet way isn’t appealing right now. It’s really appealing.
Which is why when he finally leaves he doesn’t even stop to grab something to eat and goes to Robb’s directly. Robb guesses that he skipped dinner with one look and refuses to do anything until he eats at least one sandwich, which is probably the reason why he actually - is perfectly fine until after they’re done. Hell, by the time he’s dressing up again he’s feeling great. They had some fairly amazing sex, he feels well-rested, and he’d spend the night if only he didn’t have to be at work early tomorrow morning - Robb’s place is way farther than his own.
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t mind waking up earlier,” Robb tells him earnestly as Theon shrugs on his jacket. “I mean, are you sure you’re good to drive?”
“Stark, how many times did we do this? I’m good. And it’s not really worth it. I can just come tomorrow and spend the next two days in your bed since it’s the week-end and that bastard owes me enough overtime that I could treat you out to lunch for the next month.”
“Fine,” Robb says, smirking, “I do like that prospect of you spending two days in my bed. I’ll endure.”
Theon kisses him before heading for his car - god, since when did he end up in this kind of relationship he doesn’t know but he’s not going to complain, sure as hell not.
He’s perfectly fine when he starts the engine. He’s perfectly fine for the next ten blocks. Then it happens.
He doesn’t have a clue of how he goes from perfectly fine to almost fucking crashing the car in the span of about two seconds and good thing that he manages to brake into the first free parking spot he sees. But after that -
After that -
He’s shaking all over, suddenly there’s cold sweat all over his forehead, he sees everything blurred, he feels so fucking tired he doesn’t even know if he could find the strength to start the car again in the first place and he’s suddenly very fucking hungry, but it barely even compares against everything else.
Shit, shit, he should just - call someone, call Robb actually, but - he was heading to bed, wasn’t he, and if he calls now he’s going to wake him up and with all the shit Robb’s put up with since they were together he really shouldn’t bother him even if the only thing he wants right now is at least see Robb’s face, goddamn it, but if he called then Robb would think he did something wrong when he didn’t -
Maybe he should just spend the night in the car, it’s not as if he hasn’t gone through worse, and maybe in an hour or so he’ll feel better. Probably. It has to be the case. But - but he lasts five minutes before he decides that he’s too cold and too miserable and that he’ll get Robb to forgive him after whatever’s wrong is dealt with. He could call Asha, but - but never mind that she wouldn’t know what to do with him, she’s not the person he wants right now.
He manages to reach out and grab his cellphone, and he’s about to call when he realizes that his throat feels completely constricted - shit, shit, his fingers are shaking too much to text, but he can’t talk. At all.
He manages to clear his vision long enough to write the shortest possible text, hoping that Robb’s still awake or he won’t hear it because he switches off the phone when he goes to sleep. He hopes that not feeling good I’m ten blocks from your place is enough and that Robb guesses which road back home he had taken or he’ll have to wait more than the five minutes it’d take on foot.
He throws the phone in the backseat - he couldn’t answer it if Robb called anyway. He tries to wrap himself tighter in his jacket as he takes shallow breaths - it’s not really working, though. He honestly doesn’t know how long he stays there feeling completely miserable - he’s sure he starts crying out of nowhere at some point, why, goddamn it, it had all gone so well until that moment, but then the door opens and when he sees that it’s Robb on the other side… well, he thinks he hadn’t known what raw relief felt like until this moment.
“Fuck,” Robb just says, but he sounds worried, not angry - he reaches over and unlocks the seatbelt and Theon doesn’t even think about it before grabbing him by the shoulders. He sags in pure relief when Robb hauls him out and pretty much traps him between himself and the car so he couldn’t possibly fall down.
“’m sorry,” he mutters, “I don’t know what -”
“I think I do,” Robb interrupts. “Hey, it’s fine, no need to be sorry. And - it happens sometimes, don’t get too worried. You’re going to be fine with a couple days off.”
That sounds like a great prospect, and Theon doesn’t know how Robb knows but he’ll trust him on that. Except that it’s fucking cold here, and he can’t just stop it when he starts to shiver all over again.
“Damn it,” Robb sighs. “Hey, I know it’d be better if we stuck together for now but we really need to be inside - I can drive us. Your place or mine?”
Okay. Sounds legitimate. He can handle that.
“Home,” he manages through his chattering.
“Okay,” Robb says, “I guess I’ll grab some of your clothes then. Come on, just get on the other side -”
“I meant your place,” Theon blurts out, not that he’s being very much coherent here. He had thought Robb would get it, but instead he looks - surprised. For a split second.
“Right. Well, better for the both of us. Let’s go then.”
He lets Robb drag him to the passenger’s seat and fix his seatbelt and the moment he’s gone he feels himself aching all over again - fuck, what is going on even -
“Remember when I told you I didn’t want you to fuck off into the night because I thought you might drop?” Robb asks as he puts the car in motion. Good thing he’s talking. “That second time we saw each other.”
“Uh. Yes. I guess?”
“Well, that’s what’s happening right now. But I don’t think you really want to talk about that out of all things. Though you might want to talk to me. How are you feeling?”
“Couldn’t say,” Theon slurs as Robb drives out of his parking spot and turns the car in the opposite direction.
“Can you do yes or no questions?”
“Guess so,” he slurs again. God, he really feels like utter crap.
“Are you feeling cold? Hungry?”
“Yes. And yes.”
“Did this happen all of a sudden?”
“Yes.”
“Are you feeling - low? I mean. Low. Not physically.”
“Yes,” he admits without even thinking about it. Tomorrow he might feel embarrassed to hell and back, but for now it somehow doesn’t seem to matter.
“Right. Did you wait long before calling me?”
“Some,” he replies truthfully.
“Okay. Yeah, sounds like it. Right, we’re almost there - I’m parking and then we’re going back up, give me a moment.”
Robb parks and Theon waits - it’s not like he can even bring himself to move. A minute after, Robb is hauling him out of the car after putting his own jacket on him - they have to walk a bit, but it’s not really that much. Except that then he can’t put his feet straight and Robb ends up dragging him up until the main entrance of his building. But just the prospect of human contact is doing - not wonders, but enough. He’s feeling somehow less horrid.
He breathes out in relief when they finally get inside Robb’s place - Robb kicks off his own shoes and then drags him back to the bedroom - the bed is still half unmade.
“Okay, I have to go grab a few things and I’ll be right back - trust me, you’ll need them and I don’t want to have to get up later.”
“What, why - I mean, why would you have to -”
“You’ll get it in a minute. It’s easier if I just show you. I’m coming right back, okay?”
Theon manages to give him a nod and true to his word, Robb is back seconds later - he drops something on the nightstand, then goes to the infamous drawer which Theon’s pretty much colonized by now and grabs a spare pair of pjs and something else he drops on the bed. Theon can’t even look at that - his head is feeling way too heavy to even move.
“Uh, hey, are you okay if I get you out of your clothes and the likes?”
“Why would you even ask,” he manages to say.
“Well, we were done an hour ago, I don’t like to presume,” Robb says, then he proceeds on getting him out of said clothes and into the spare pjs, which are already ten times more comfortable than before. He can hear his shoes landing somewhere in the vicinities of the bedroom door before Robb - Robb takes off the second jacket he had underneath, and - wait a moment -
“Did you get out in your fucking pjs?” Theon manages to ask when he finally notices what Robb had been wearing under the coat and spare jacket.
“That was a worrying text,” Robb says, shrugging, and then he gets into bed along with him. He doesn’t waste time - first he drags the covers up and then he’s spooning him fairly tight. And the moment he does that, hands around his waist and calves hooked around his own, he feels like a weight has been at least partially lifted - shit, since when he’s this clingy now?
“You aren’t being clingy,” Robb says, and he sounds somehow amused. “It happens sometimes.”
“What, this?” Also, did he speak out loud again?
“It’s an adrenaline crash. Happens sometimes after - intense stuff. Or when you weren’t at your best when scening.”
“Shit, I skipped lunch,” Theon groans, shuffling closer. Fuck, but he hadn’t thought that doing it once would have turned into this. What the fuck. “That’s just - makes no fucking sense,” he sighs.
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’ve had a fair number of horrid times when scening and I never felt like this? Then again -”
“Then again?”
He sighs - he should just say it. “Then again I had other reasons to feel like shit.”
“I’m calling in sick,” Robb says a moment later.
“What?”
“You’re going to be like this for another day at least, probably, and even if you aren’t it’d be better if I stick around. Don’t worry, I have leftover vacation from two years ago.”
“But I should -”
“Go to work? Like this?”
… right. Good point. “Shit, he’s going to murder me when I go back.”
“He can suck it up as far as I’m concerned. How are you?”
“Better,” he answers truthfully. “Crap, I just - who’d have even thought -”
“Hey, it happens. Hazards of the lifestyle, I guess. You just need a couple days getting thoroughly spoiled and you’ll be all right, stop beating yourself up about it.”
“If only it was as easy to do it,” he sighs, moving as close as he can possibly get before shrugging and just turning on the other side, hoping that Robb guesses what his target is - he does because he immediately rearranges the both of them so that he has both arms around his waist again and it feels good, definitely better, but still, it’s not quite right.
“Christ,” he says, “I - I don’t know, what the fuck -”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. It’s just - I need you to be closer than that. And you can’t be, and it’s ridiculous -”
“Wait. Hey, I know we said strictly - well, you know, but do you think you might want this on?”
Robb reaches behind him and grabs something from the desk - oh. Right. Because they do have a strict agreement of the infamous collar not being brought into discussion ever if it’s not scene-related, but right now - god, right now the prospect sounds fairly damn good especially because whenever he has it on he tends to just stop worrying about things at once and they’ve used it long enough that he pretty much got over any lingering worry he might have had.
“Shit, yes,” he answers, and he stays still as Robb puts it on again, not tightening it - actually he can barely feel it, but it’s actually good - it’s not constricting at all and he doesn’t really need to choke on the damned thing. He just needs to know it’s there, and it’s probably embarrassing that it’s most likely because by now he associates it with how serious this got, but somehow it’s making him way less paranoid about feeling guilty about it. So.
He goes less tense as Robb reaches out and puts a couple of fingers in between it and his neck, over his pulse point, without really tugging, just - having them there.
“Any better?”
“Yes,” he replies truthfully. “Thanks, I -”
“You shouldn’t be thanking me, it’s part of the deal,” Robb replies, sounding amused. Then he obviously feels for something that he left on his side of the bed or on his nightstand and he takes away his hand - Theon’s about to protest, and then he hears the sound of - paper ripping?
He looks upwards to see that Robb’s opening up a chocolate bar without trying to break all contact in between the two of them.
“What -”
“Trust me, it helps a lot. Tomorrow I’m ordering in a proper cake, but for now that was all I had that you wouldn’t hate.”
“White chocolate isn’t chocolate,” Theon mutters. How can Robb like that he still hasn’t understood.
“Yeah, well, I beg to disagree. Good thing I had this left.”
He breaks off a piece or two - Theon doesn’t even see him doing that, he just hears it because he’s gone back to lowering his head down on Robb’s side.
“Hey, come on, don’t you want some extra-quality 90% dark Swiss? Fuck, how do you like it so bitter I’ll never understand.”
“That’s because you are a heathen, but thanks, I’ll have it.”
He doesn’t even attempt to grab it himself - he moves away a bit and parts his lips and sure enough Robb pushes it slowly between his teeth a moment later. He figures he’ll take his time to let it melt and he doesn’t swallow for a bit - damn, that’s good chocolate.
“Where did you even hide it?”
Robb shrugs as he feeds him another piece. “We went shopping for Sansa’s birthday party, they had it in the bakery where we ordered the cake and it looked like the kind of fancy dark chocolate you’d like. I was planning on bringing it out in a different occasion but I think this one called for it.”
Theon doesn’t know if he should tell Robb that he kind of doesn’t know how to process the fact that he actually bought chocolate he doesn’t even like just because Theon does, which - well, if everyone he’s been with was of that same mindset he wouldn’t be in the position where he has to end up like a wreck if he skips one meal once, but he’s not going to dwell on it, not when -
“Might be working,” he admits as he swallows the rest of it.
“Yeah?”
“Well, I do feel better. Somewhat.”
“Good, then you can have another piece. Considering that I doubt that sandwich did its job before..”
“Guess it didn’t,” he agrees, and eats the third. By the time Robb’s given him at least half of that bar he feels somewhat less on edge - he’s still not fine, but miles better from before.
“Shit, shouldn’t I brush my teeth?”
“You can do that tomorrow morning. I mean, if you want to, but you should get up for that.”
“… Yeah, no, I'm not doing this right now.”
“Wise decision.” Robb turns away for a moment to turn off the light and then he’s back under the covers, and he thinks there isn’t an inch left between them - not that he minds. Not at all.
“So what’s the plan now?” He asks.
“The plan is that you go to sleep when you feel like it and we see how you feel in the morning. By the way, do you want me to do that call for you?”
“Please. Just grab the phone and call the number under work 2, it’s his secretary.”
“Okay, good. I will.”
Robb doesn’t say anything else, just - stays there and occasionally runs a hand through his hair when he’s not touching the back of the collar and he had thought that he was too tense for anything including sleeping, but maybe like this he could, and at some point he does close his eyes and it’s a lot easier than he had thought it would be.
--
When he wakes up - and damn, he actually did sleep didn’t he - he wakes up to his head on Robb’s thigh, Robb’s hand still at the back of his neck and his head feeling way clearer than yesterday. He still doesn’t think he’s back to normal - the prospect of Robb moving away now is fairly terrifying for one - and he still feels way clingier than usual, but at least he’s not feeling like complete shit like yesterday.
“Hey,” Robb says, “your boss’s secretary wasn’t exactly happy about it but I think I managed to deal with her.”
“She’s almost as bad as he is,” Theon agrees. “Wait, how.”
“I just told her that since you always do unpaid overtime and you haven’t taken more than five sick days in a row since we met maybe she’d like it better if I brought it up with a union representative I know. She stopped complaining at once.”
“You know union representatives?”
“I am in a union, who do you take me for? And how are you feeling?”
“Better,” he says.
“Do I take that off?” Robb says, his fingers running along the collar.
Theon thinks about it. “Not just yet,” he sighs. “If -”
“Sure. It’s your call, not mine.”
“Wait, that isn’t your pjs,” Theon finally notices. Robb’s in his old tracking suit he puts on to go buy groceries and the likes and a different t-shirt, now that he pays attention to it.
“Well, yeah, you were dead to the world and I chanced a trip to the bakery downstairs. Can I leave a minute?”
“Uh, sure.”
Robb sends him a look before leaning down and pressing a kiss on the side of his head, then he dashes off and he’s in fact back a minute later - with a plate in his hands. With -
“Where the hell did you find sachertorte,” Theon blurts. He’s sure Robb’s bakery doesn’t have that in the menu.
“Er, I might have ordered it from the one near Jon’s place. They do have it there. I only put on the tracksuit to avoid answering the guy in my pjs - I mean, I do have a limit. And Jon assures me it’s good.”
He sits back on the bed - Theon manages to sit up and puts the plate on his knees before taking the fork from Robb.
“And don’t offer me any, you know I’m for heathen desserts.”
“Hilarious,” Theon tries to reply, but it comes out way less biting than he wanted it to be. He eats a forkful - well, okay, fine, it’s good. And it’s definitely doing wonders for his mood.
“By the way,” Robb says, moving closer and putting his hand on Theon’s shoulder, “yesterday, you said something.”
“Uh, what?”
“In the car. When I asked where you wanted to go. You said home first and then specified that you didn’t mean your place.”
Ah, crap, he hadn’t even realized - but why’s Robb looking glad at the prospect?
“Er, no, I didn’t. I guess.”
“Good, because it means I can just ask you now and be done with it.”
“What?”
“I had been thinking about it for ages anyway, but - I mean, unless you’re somewhat invested into that studio apartment of yours, and something tells me you’re not since you barely decorated it, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to move here already.”
He doesn’t let the fork drop just because he had it in his damned mouth, even if - well, he had thought Robb might ask, but he hadn’t fully entertained the notion and -
“Really?”
“You live here most of the time anyway, it’d just make it official. And if you say yes I’ll even go as far as kissing you before you brush your teeth even if I don’t care for all that sugar-less chocolate you’re eating.”
Theon doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry - he swallows his cake and he knows he’s grinning openly as he looks back to Robb.
“You might have a point. And - yeah, I mean, of course I’d move in with you, that’s not even - fuck, you’re mean. You know that I wouldn’t have had an appropriate retort if you asked now.”
“Maybe, but I did it now just because I thought waiting was pointless.”
And then he moves closer and brushes their lips together delicately, but for some reason it feels a lot more intimate than a lot of other times when their lips weren’t actually closed and Theon thinks that he might just be overloaded in the opposite way in comparison to yesterday, by now.
“That said, just go finish that. I’d like to celebrate when I’m sure your sugar levels are the way they should be,” Robb says, winking and moving so that he’s still touching Theon’s side but not risking to crowd him.
“Sounds good,” Theon manages, and as he goes back to his cake while his ankle finds Robb’s under the covers he decides that even if he went on the opposite kind of overload, it wouldn’t be bad at all or matter either way. After all, it’d be happening at home, wouldn’t it?
End.