Read it on the AO3 | thank you @thanatosdean for the prompt :)
Sansa knows three things: she's hungover as fuck, she's in a fancy Vegas suite she most definitely did not book herself, and Daenerys Targaryen isn't wearing any pants.
Sansa awoke with a pounding in her head and an ache in her knees. She unstuck her cheek from cool white tile with a wince, and sat up as slowly as she could. The room she was lying in came swimming into focus. To her left was a toilet and a heart shaped hot tub, and to her right was an incredible floor to ceiling view of the Las Vegas skyline.
This was not the modest room she had booked on Priceline.
Details from the night before came back to her in nauseating waves. Meeting Dany after her shift at Carnaval, shots and dancing and laughter and shots -- and then, and then. There was kissing. Sansa definitely remembered kissing.
She pushed herself upward and tottered to the sink. She turned on the faucet and cupped her hands beneath the stream of cold water, intending to splash it on her face, but then she saw her reflection and the water slipped through her fingers.
“What the fuck,” she said. And then, louder: “What the fuck!”
“What’s wrong!” Dany said, bursting into the bathroom. She looked as bad as Sansa felt--well, for Dany, anyway, which would put her somewhere between “super model” and “flight attendant who had yet to be discovered by a Hollywood bigshot.”
“What the fuck,” Sansa said, pointing to her neck. Her head gave a throbbing ache in response to Dany’s pealing laughter.
“Uh,” she said when she finished. “You kind of, demanded them? Something about ‘marking my territory?’ I dunno Sanny, I think purple suits you.”
“I have a wedding to go to,” Sansa hissed. “With--what was your preferred term?”
“I have a fancy rich fuck wedding to go to, and my fancy rich fuck ex boyfriend will be there, and I cannot go looking like I got attacked by horny leeches.”
“You said last night you weren’t going to go.”
“The whole reason I came to visit you is because Vegas is en route to California!”
“I thought you missed me, Sanny,” Dany said, in a voice Sansa would have called soft if her head hurt just a little bit less.
“Don’t call me that,” Sansa snapped. This, this is why she and Dany had lost touch. It wasn’t because Dany had to start going to public school when her scholarship finally ran out, it wasn’t because Sansa’s mother didn’t want them hanging out in the face of Dany’s family’s disgrace. It was because Dany always did things the Dany way, and to hell with what anyone else wanted.
“Alright… Sansa,” Dany said, frowning. “Damn, you look like hell.”
“Can we maybe… go to the bedroom? I have pedialyte.”
Sansa was tempted to continue to be rude to Dany, because her head hurt and her stomach roiled and her knees were aching, but she could always be rude once all that felt better. So she nodded instead.
The room was extravagant. Something Joffrey would have insisted on paying for and then complain about the price tag of the entire trip. Sansa’s eyes swept over their crumpled dresses on the floor and refused to blush at the sight of their scattered underwear on various surfaces near the bed. Dany retrieved the bottles from the minifridge and settled on the bed. Sansa sat on the squashy arm chair by the window.
“We didn’t do anything but make out,” Dany said, as if she could read Sansa’s mind. She tossed a pedialyte at her which Sansa managed to catch. She had never been the hand-eye coordination type of sporty, so she would tell her brothers about this at the wedding, and they would be proud of her.
“Well…” Dany said, sweeping her eyes across the marks on Sansa’s neck. “Not too much more than make out, anyway.”
Maybe she wouldn’t tell her brothers about this after all.
It was probably placebo, but half a bottle into the pedialyte, and Sansa’s headache had already abated. She was feeling a lot more reasonable about the girl sitting on the bed in front of her, at least.
“What like, just now? Or in High School.”
“It’s cool,” Dany said, sipping at her own bottle. “So, um, San--sa. What do you remember from last night?”
“Well, just. Don’t be mad, okay?”
“You’re one to talk,” Sansa said again, and wished she hadn’t, when she saw sorrow instead of rage flash inside of Dany’s eyes.
“I’m not the same person I was back then,” she said. “Getting out of New York… helped me a lot.”
“I know,” Sansa said. “I do!” She insisted at the look of incredulity Dany gave her. “Just because I’m terrible at corresponding doesn’t mean I don’t keep up with your facebook.”
“You little stalker,” Dany said, some of the familiar sparkle back on her face.
“Well, hey, I might be a little bit gay. Dunno if you caught that.”
Dany snorted. “Oh, I knew even back then.”
“If you had told me, you could have saved me a really big fight with my mother.”
“How is the old battleaxe?”
“Fine, she’s good. Her hair’s gone completely white since my dad died.”
“She didn’t like that you were queer?”
“Um, mostly that I was bi? She thought it was… dishonest.”
“When I dated Margaery Tyrell.”
Sansa frowned and finished up the last of her pedialyte. Dany’s opinion of Sansa’s family’s snobbishness wasn’t inaccurate, it was just… harsh.
“So what were you going to tell me,” Sansa said. “That I shouldn’t be mad about?”
“Oh, um. Uh. Well. Remember how I said we didn’t do much more than make out?”
“Besides the fact you ate me out in a bathroom…”
That explained Sansa’s sore knees. She did have vague memories of insisting she didn’t care how gross the floor was, and Dany’s breathless giggles, and Dany’s breathy moans, and--
“We sort of, got married?”
This snapped Sansa out of her sexual reverie.
“I was just talking about how I’d lived here for five years now and I’ve never done any of the cliches and, and, and,” Dany said in a rush. She blushed. “And you uh, suggested it? And because of the aforementioned bathroom eating out sesh, I was feeling post-orgasm euphoric and I thought, why the hell not, I’ve been in lo--I mean. I dunno. I was drunk. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god. I am too hungover for this.”
But that wasn’t even true enough any more that Sansa could use it as an excuse to avoid dealing with this ridiculous situation.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Dany said. “I should have known how drunk you were, I shouldn’t have--”
“You said I suggested it,” Sansa cut in. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“I do though,” Dany said. “I would never--I wasn’t thinking. I would never take advantage of anyone like that.”
“I’ve been taken advantage of,” Sansa said, trying not to snap. The bathroom cunilingus memory was becoming clearer and clearer as her head did the same. She remembered insisting she was sober enough for sex, and when Dany still refused, saying she’d go down on her to prove it, and Dany could owe her one in the morning. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me?”
“No, no,” Dany said with a sigh. “My coworkers witnessed and hooked us up with this suite. We got naked, made out, then passed out.”
“It sounds like I was the one taking advantage of you,” she said carefully, avoiding Dany’s eyes.
“God, Sanny, no,” Dany said, getting up off the bed and kneeling in front of her. “Sansa, I mean, sorry.”
“It’s fine as long as you keep your promise.”
“--never the drunker person’s fault and I--what?”
“Your, uh, promise?” Sansa said. “In the uh, bathroom. I might be remembering it wrong. God, I’m sorry. I’m trying to be sexy, and I’m not--”
Dany surged upward to kiss Sansa and both their t-shirts were off before Dany broke away to swear.
Their mouths found each other again. Maybe Sansa would skip the wedding after all.
