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Jon was wandering back to his cabin when the sky had barely turned dark. The first time he was able to catch himself a break this early ever since they settled down in the real North. The past few days were filled with labors, hunts and bargains, for both him and the clan leader, Tormund Giantsbane, of course. There was always a cabin to help fix, a conflict between the folks to help resolve and eh, the whole clan to help feed.
He had been laying together with Tormund at night, on the same bed under the same fur. They stayed so close to each other, but too spent to do anything crazier than a few caresses here and there just before they fell asleep surrounded in each other’s scent and the unspoken affection.
It was really close to Jon’s limit, yet he was too stubborn and honorable a man to ask the other man to put away his time and energy on something less important than the wellbeing of the whole clan, especially when they had just gotten back to their home.
But much to Jon’s surprise, when he entered their cabin today, Tormund was already sitting on the floor, guzzling drink and gulping down a lamb’s leg. Must had been an easy day for him too.
So Jon outright sprinted into the giant ginger’s arms, pinning them both into the floor with not only the speed and weight, but also the force of his deep kiss. The lamb’s leg fell from Tormund’s hand and rolled onto the floor. Neither of them minded, knowing that they would just pick it up and brush off the dusk to continue consuming it later.
Once Tormund fought himself out of the sweet assault to breathe, he said with a grin, “You gotta eat first, Jon,”
“Oh I will eat,” Jon grabbed the back of Tormund’s head and led him into another kiss. The taste mead and mutton on his lover’s tongue was all he needed now.
He let out a surprised gasp when Tormund got up from the floor with him in his arms, picking him up like he weighted nothing.
“My boy has been waiting too long,” Tormund dropped the smaller man into their bed, a wooden platform a few inches above the floor, covered in furs to keep them warm and comfortable. He yanked Jon’s breeches off in one go while looking at him in a dominant manner. Jon took it as a sign to strip the rest haphazardly.
“I will make you wet like a seal now, baby crow,” Pleased to see his boy all naked now, Tormund took hold of Jon’s cock with one hand, pumping it in his fist, and fondled Jon’s balls with the other. “You ever laid with a man before?”
“No,” Jon fought the urge to fuck into Tormund’s fist faster.
“Got myself a maid here!” Tormund exclaimed jokingly.
Jon never understood the wildlings’ obsession with all these virgin teases. He rolled his eyes back, but then shifted to lift his legs over Tormund’s shoulders, giving him better access in anticipation.
“I know how it’s done,” He grumbled. Although it sounded more like a needy whine to the older man’s ears, who gladly accepted the invitation and folded Jon in half to fully expose his hole, pink, tight, and inexperienced.
Tormund licked his lips. Jon copied the action unintentionally because of how focused he was on the wildling’s expression. He almost bit his own tongue when Tormund dived in without warning. The hot and wet tongue fell flat on his rim, lapping and sucking until it became softer and less tensed.
“Gods,” Jon arched his back. He had done this, or more precisely, something like this to girls, but nobody before today had ever returned the favor there . It was beyond incredible the moment Tormund broke in with the tip of his tongue.
Sensing that Jon was ready for more, Tormund used nothing but his own saliva and Jon’s precome as lubrication to add a knuckle alongside his tongue. Patiently, he made it two knuckles, three knuckles, then a second finger without stopping fondling Jon’s cock and balls with his free hand.
The fingers inside were pressing around, searching for something, Jon could feel that. Despite not knowing what it was for, Jon trusted Tormund enough to not ask. And when Tormund did find what he was looking for, Jon didn’t need to ask anymore. He just called out in ecstasy.
Suddenly, Jon’s walls bore down around the skillful fingers. He must be close.
“No, no, no. Stop, Tormund,” Jon begged.
“What’s wrong?” Tormund’s head snapped up from between Jon’s legs. He cautiously withdrew his fingers and rubbed around Jon’s hole to check for any injuries, “You hurt?”
“No, no. I- I just- I don’t want this to end yet,” Jon admitted bashfully. Sweaty curls framed his blushing cheeks.
“Who said anything about ending?” With the assurance, Tormund pushed two fingers back into where they were, finding Jon’s most sensitive spot in no time, and started teasing again. He buried his face deep and licked where his fingers met Jon’s stretched rim before he continued talking, “First I’m gonna make you cum. Wet yourself like a good, beautiful boy. And then I’m gonna make you cum again, on my cock.”
And that really was it. That was the moment Jon came with a groan so loud he knew all the folks around their cabin would have heard him.
Tormund kept on scissoring his fingers and suckling Jon’s hole through his orgasm. “Hmm, tasty, boy. You liked that?” He mumbled.
The tickle and burn from Tormund’s beard between Jon’s thighs suddenly became more noticeable now that he had climbed past his climax. But he didn’t mind. He nodded frantically in response to Tormund’s question, not care if Tormund could actually see it. He knew it, anyway.
Tormund pulled his fingers out slowly and pecked one last wet and loud kiss to the soft inside of Jon’s thigh before he let those legs fall limply into the furs. He then straightened up to take off his own clothes.
Lips parted in awe, Jon stared up at the wildling towering him, who had pulled his last layer over his head and abandoned it onto the floor. Red hair covered Tormund’s board chest, spreading all the way to his ripped abdomen, and disappeared into his crotch. He’s kissed by fire all over, incomparably stunning, let alone the heavy golden bands around his arms, a promise of profound strength and culture. He almost resembled a god in Jon’s eyes.
“You look good,” Jon murmured. His hands gripped the sides of Tormund’s waist, feeling his bare skin.
Tormund howled with laughter upon hearing his little crow’s plain compliment. He leaned down and cupped Jon’s face, looking him in the eyes closely, “Well, you look better than good. You look like a whore. You look like you need to get fucked so bad.”
Never breaking eye contact with Tormund for one second, Jon bit his bottom lip to suppress a moan drew by those filthy words.
“Get out of those and fuck me already then, seven hells,”He tucked at Tormund’s breeches roughly until he remembered another of Tormund’s many names. A mischievous smirk crawled up his face, “I better not see half a member when those are down!”
Tormund’s blue eyes widened in shock and they both bursted into laughter so hard that it could blow away the fur roof securing their cabin. No doubt the cabins around would be wondering what the pair were actually doing. Fucking or telling jokes.
“Half me member is more than enough for your tiny, beautiful pucker, eh,” Tormund’s pushed his thumbs under his waistband, “but a whole one is better than half.” His angry cock popped out and slapped his lower abdomen in glory. As big and veiny as Jon had imagined all aroused. Or, if Jon could ever bring himself to admit, even more so.
Jon swallowed so hard that he’s sure Tormund could hear it too. It didn’t help that his own cock mimicked the swift bounce his Adam’s apple did. He complied submissively when Tormund pushed his legs back up and made him keep them in place by himself.
“No worries, pup,” Tormund reached over the furs and fiddled around until he found the small bottle of greasing oil he kept near. He smeared it all over his cock, and rubbed some more on Jon’s exposed hole, which was already sloppy and shiny with Tormund’s saliva, “I had you prepared so well. You won’t get hurt.”
Without leaving Jon more time to sink into his nervousness, Tormund began to push in rather slowly, inch by inch. Jon yelped. It was far different from hurting, but still a delicious burn bloomed in his sensitive entrance.
He had never felt so owned and yet free. Chest heaving, he signed Tormund with a little nod once he’s gotten used to the burning stretch. Almost immediately, the bigger man rocked his hips back and forth, pushing his huge member in and out of Jon’s ass.
Jon didn’t need to grab the back of his knees to give Tormund better access now that the wildling was pressing down heavily on him, forcing his legs to spread wide open on either side. His hands snaked to Tormund’s backside, gradually adding pressure in the hope of getting pounded even harder.
The gesture brought a wider grin to Tormund’s now sweaty face. There really was no better way to keep warm in the North than fucking.
“You fool no one, Jon Snow. Bet you were tender with them, with women,” The giant ginger rolled his hips in a steady and firm rhythm while searching for that one special spot with his cock. Jon’s moans turned to the edge of whimpers and sobs once he found it. He devoured the view of his smaller lover writhing beneath him, desperately longing for some rougher treatment, “but truth is you’re just needy. A very, very needy boy.”
The words acted not only as a disclosure, but also a fuel feeding Jon’s hidden desire.
“More. Harder. Faster. Tormund..”Jon demanded ever so greedily. His fingers dig into Tormund’s behind, pulling Giantsbane closer, “Wreck me like you own me.”
“I do own you.”
The wildling chief didn’t need to be asked twice. He braced himself by his elbows on either side of Jon’s torso and started thrusting faster and deeper. It lit a fierce fire inside Jon. They nibbled at each other’s lips and fucked rough like a pair of wild animals. Even the bed underneath moved along with them.
“You know you will be sore tomorrow, after this, eh?”
“Aye.”
“You know you will get used to be stuffed like this in no time?”
“Aye.”
“Soon you will beg me to do it. You will let me do it anytime and anywhere.”
“Aye.”
As more and more filthy questions turned into declarations, Jon’s answers never changed, until they were both too out of breath to spit a word. After the final few thrusts, Tormund spilled his seed inside Jon, growling, followed by Jon’s own orgasm between their closely pressed bodies.
“You did good, little crow,” The wildling, older and more experienced, was the first to catch his breath and recovered from the intense release.
He smoothed all of Jon’s black curls back, almost like he’s combing it with his massive hand. Jon noticed. He always had his hair tied up back when they were at all those different wars and only let it down recently when he was exiled to take the black again, to go deep into the north, the real North. Tormund noticed.
“You like my hair back?” Jon whispered sleepily, voice still hoarse. All the whimpering and sobbing and growling was to blame.
“Got in the way,”Tormund grunted as he pressed kisses into Jon’s jawline to make the point, “My little crow, the prettiest I’ve ever seen, in any way.”
Th caring wildling eased Jon’s legs down into a more comfortable position, and rolled him over to a fresher spot on the warm fur. Already had his eyes shut and his mind drifting away, Jon only flinched and whimpered when he felt something cool and damp on his sore body.
“Shhhh, Little Crow,” Tormund shushed him gently without stopping cleaning the mess, “Rest.”
In a heartbeat, Jon let himself fall asleep.
***********************
Jon sighed as he sank into the silence, stretching himself on the warm and soft furs while looking around the dimmed cabin inside.
On a wooden hook, two belts were hanged side by side, one more worn out on the far end, with some fresher but visible signs of wear closer to the belt buckle, and the other exactly the opposite. There were days when they swapped belts to wear. Some days they lost themselves all over each other, and had to throw on layers in quite a rush before heading out for a hunt. Some days they missed each other into the bones during one’s absence on a more serious clan job, and needed to keep some pieces closer to ease the ache. And some days, they did it simply because they could.
Jon rolled over on his stomach. His mate would be back soon. Not wearing his belt meant that Tormund must not be far away from their place. The fur cover slipped off his waist, baring his ass and legs, covered in marks and handprints from last night.
Oh, Tormund gave it to him so good and throughout and rough, often.
It had been months since he went through the Wall, or what remained of the Wall, with Tormund to build their home here.
The first time in Jon’s life, he didn’t need to struggle to fit in and belong. Being a Freefolk didn’t mean to cater to some kind of traditions or believes. Being yourself was more than enough to mean that you were being free.
So he had found himself doing things he never thought he would want to do before. He would cling to Tormund more often than not, greedy for touches and kisses, even when they were sitting by the fire under bold daylight, even when they were among other folks. Seven hells, he even pouted a few times when he didn’t get the attention and intimacy he demanded.
After all, Jon was young, energetic, and as Tormund liked to remind him just as often, needy. And Tormund knew exactly how to fulfill him, encourage him, and tame him, even discipline him sometimes.
The cover by the entrance of their cabin opened. Jon looked up at the comer through his black lashes.
“Eh, lazy baby crow. Still in?”
“Me? Lazy? Who did all the work last night?” Jon watched the redhead laid some food down on the table by the fireplace, still lying on his stomach, mindful that his man had his blue eyes on his bare ass, laughing.
“Gotta give you that, boy! Rode me better than riding a dragon,” the bigger man hopped onto the bed, pulled the furs over to cover Jon’s ass and legs, before him pressed himself into them. Jon felt the fresh coldness brought in from outside even through the furs, alongside with the feeling of Tormund’s bulge grinding on his ass. Not hard, but still noticeably big.
“Alright, alright. Give me a break, Tor,”
“Breakfast it is then,” Tormund peeled himself off Jon without a protest and pulled Jon up by the waist with him, motioning him to get dressed for the food he had brought.
Ghost languidly rose from his place by the end of the bed and joined the two men. Jon scratched the soft spot behind his ear as a morning greeting while Tormund sliced him some meat.
Fresh daylight streamed through the thin parts of the cabin furs. The coldest time had passed. Snow on the top of hills had begun to melt.