Robb losing Evander in the Riverlands and begging the gods of the South, who he has never prayed to or cared for before, to tell him how to keep going.
THESE TWO!!! yes. immediate yes. she would love him so much. that's her darling boy !! her whole heart right there!! I feel like he'd be so soft with her. also with the way he is with Robb?? I just know he adores her just as much as she adores him, if not more.
need them dancing at a feast together, her laughing with absolute joy as he spins her around. also she'd be so affectionate with him. utterly determined to fix it in his head that she loves him so much 🙂↕️
New thought: NedAlyJaime + Evander?Jaime being made to eat out Aly while Evan and Ned take turns with him?
YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT.
Ned would totally lean more hard dom in a situation like that, saying things like "Cry all you want, no one is going to touch your fucking cock" and "You wish for release? Get it from his cock, whore," while holding Jaime's head down between Aly's legs. (I feel like Evander would also enjoy being a bit mean to Jaime? Jaime's just asking for it, tbh.)
I'm imagining Evander goes first, and Jaime thinks Ned is going to either fuck Aly or have Evan suck him off, but NOPE. And Ned has trained himself to have quite a bit of stamina, because he likes to make Aly orgasm at least twice, but preferably three or four times. (Ned enjoys making sure she remembers just what a good husband she has.) So Jaime's gonna be there a WHILE. Giving Ned the opportunity to be even meaner, with some shit like "Oh, but you were begging for release. Now you don't want it? Well fine, no one said you had to finish again. But you're staying here until I do. And I don't plan to until you've pleased my wife well enough for her to faint. So keep. fucking. going."
thank you for the tag @gardens-of-babylonn!! this was really fun lol
robbevan is: the devil & the emperor
there's only one religion for the two of you, and that religion is the other. you two are very nearly unhealthily obsessed with one another, and that's just how you like it. when they touch you, they can feel the blood pumping under the surface of your skin. your hearts beat for one another. when the day comes that one stops, the other will soon after. until then, you both will live out your lives in perfect, gothy paradise.
robbleyna is: ace of cups & ten of cups
your romance is the love story that seems only possible in movies. it starts from a youthful first meeting, innocent. and from what may seem like a lifetime later, you both end up happily in union, perhaps even married! your coupling is the epitome of emotional fulfillment and devotion. neither of you thought you'd end up here, but damn if you aren't glad you did.
no pressure tags! @sophieturnersdoppelganger @hanrieeee @cerennabaratheonism @menelenear @starofmortis and anyone else who wants to!
Written for @archiveofsnow, in response to this ask. Directly follows the #14 prompt fic! Robb kinda took over writing this one, i was not intending it to be 2.5k words lol
18+, smut below the cut
no. 14
Robb watches, jealousy burning in his stomach, as Evan licks the serving girl's fingers clean — he shouldn't have followed Evan down this hall, and he certainly shouldn't have watched, but something had rooted him to the floor. It burns, that Evan, who had always been solely Robb's, has seemingly moved on so easily as to become a second Theon in the castle, and maybe that thought is what spurs Robb to movement when he realizes Evan is coming towards his hiding spot.
He reaches out as Evan passes, yanks him into the little alcove and pushes him back against the wall. He really doesn't mean for his voice to sound so jealous – whiny, a voice in his head whispers – when he snaps, "A kitchen maid, Evan?"
Evan looks annoyed, an expression Robb so rarely sees directed at him. "What of it? She wanted it, I wanted it."
"No one else should get to touch you," Robb mutters petulantly. "It's barely midday, are you so fucking desperate you need a girl before lunch?" It's mean, he knows it is, but gods, he hates knowing Evan is so much as looking at anyone else, even if it is Robb's own fault.
"You're such a hypocrite, Robb," Evan scoffs, the anger in his voice half-hearted and hurt in a way Robb doesn't want to think about. "You used to wake me up with my cock down your throat, you've no room to talk."
He tears out of Robb's hold and starts to stalk off down the hall. Robb, who is loath to lose the warmth of Evan's body against him in such a way now that he's felt it again, follows and pins him again, searching his face for a rejection. And then, because he finds no such thing and he's missed this, he leans in, pressing his mouth to Evan's.
It's just as good as the last time Robb kissed him, maybe better for all the kissing Evan is doing regularly with other people. It's just as soul-shattering to have Evan moaning under his touch, to slide his hands into that soft hair and watch it disarm Evan so completely. Robb has always been addicted to this, and he regrets immediately that he's let himself have it again, however briefly — it will be that much harder to abstain, now.
Evan's hands grip tightly at Robb's hips, and Robb is fiercely, jealously pleased to feel the hardness pressing against his own.
"You said you were okay with this now," Evan breathes against Robb's mouth, a last attempt at an argument. "You swore to me you wouldn't be angry anymore."
"I lied," Robb says, accompanying the words with a tug on Evan's hair. "I'm not okay with it. You're mine." Evan makes a noise of protest, and Robb's eyes open to meet his, filled with possessive fire. He slips his hand into Evan's breeches, relishing in the way Evan shudders and lets his head fall back as Robb's hand wraps around the hard flesh. "Mine," Robb near snarls into Evan's neck. "All mine.”
Ev's hips cant into Robb's touch, his voice coming out a needy rasp. "Yes, fuck, always."
Gods, I love you, Robb thinks, and can't bring himself to say it. He drops to his knees instead and pulls Ev's breeches down around his thighs. Evan's eyes fly open, the dark blue a thin ring around wide pupils. Robb has always thought Ev looks like a painting from this angle. He places a kiss on the bone of Evan's hip, drags his tongue along the skin, presses his nose into the base of Evan's cock. Evan's hips jerk, his cock twitching, and Robb smiles at the hand that immediately winds into his hair.
"Robb," Evan groans, and the sound goes straight to Robb's cock.
"No one else should get to make you feel like this," Robb mumbles, kissing along the shaft. "You're mine, Ev, my Evan."
"Possessive fucki—" Evan's voice breaks off as Robb swallows him down. "Ohhhhh, fuck!"
The fingers in Robb's hair tighten, and Robb feels Evan's thighs tense under his hands — part of him appreciates the effort being made to not fuck his throat immediately, but a larger part craves it. The weight of a cock — or rather, the weight of this particular cock — on his tongue settles a part of him he hadn't realized was so restless, and it's been so long since he'd been on his knees for Ev. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the feeling of a well-fucked throat.
He, admittedly, gets a little sloppy with his ministrations. His mouth is watering enough that he's drooling around Ev, saliva and precome dripping down his chin. He gets carried away, forgetting it's been near 18 moons since he last had Evan in his mouth, and Robb is abruptly, unwelcomely reminded of this when the head of Ev's cock meets the back of his throat, and Robb chokes.
Evan tugs at his hair at once, pulling Robb easily off his cock. "Fuck, are you okay?" he asks. "Did I hurt you?"
Robb barely notices the concern edging into Evan's breathless voice, too busy frowning at Ev's cock. "No, I'm fine, I just…" He shakes his head. "Nothing."
Robb slides his hand up Ev's torso, groping at his chest as he dips his head to bite at Evan's inner thigh. He wants to mark Evan as thoroughly as he used to, but they don't have time here and Robb has… well. He drags his tongue over to Ev's stones, mouthing at them until Evan is panting soft little groans into the quiet of the hall.
"Gods, I love the sounds you make." Robb traces the veins on Evan's shaft with the tip of his tongue, pressing into the weeping slit to taste him better. When he looks up at Ev, the other man's eyes are locked on Robb's face, dark with need.
Evan reaches down, and Robb leans into the hand that cups his face, the thumb rubbing along his cheekbone. "You look so fucking good like this," Evan says roughly, his voice dipping into a tone Robb has only ever heard in their bed. "My pretty prince, on your knees for me where you belong."
Robb moans in agreement — he should never have stopped doing this, what had he been thinking? All those arguments he'd convinced himself with seem so distant when his mouth is so occupied — and takes Ev back into his mouth. Frustratingly, he gags the moment he tries to take him into his throat. Ignoring for the moment the way the frustration serves to make his cock throb in his breeches, Robb pulls back enough to breathe, and tries again.
No luck.
His voice drops to a near inaudible mutter. "I used to be able to do this."
Evan caresses his face with a gentleness that makes Robb ache all over. "It's alright, Robb, it's been a while. You don't have to do this, we can, we can go back to the courtyard like nothing happened and you can trounce me in swordfighting."
If Robb is breaking his own word to himself, he is determined to at least spend the rest of his day with the taste of Evan on his tongue. He shakes his head emphatically. "No, I want this. I do."
A soft, knowing smirk spreads over Evan's face. "Oh. You can't, can you?" Robb shudders as the teasing tone hurtles down his spine. He shifts slightly, hoping it goes unnoticed when he presses his aching hardness against Ev's boot. "You're choking on it like a green boy," here Evan tilts his head, and Robb, chin resting on his thigh, feels the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, "and you like it."
Eighteen moons has never felt so much like a lifetime, Robb thinks as his eyes trace the curve of Evan's smirk. He stands quickly, drawing Evan into a kiss that has them both gasping, a concentrated effort to climb down Evan's throat and make himself a home in the warmth of his gut. And really, can he truly be blamed for the way his hips grind helplessly against Evan's bare manhood, urged on by the frustration and humiliation of being unable to take Evan as he used to, the twisted need singing through Robb's veins? He breaks the kiss, gasping into the curve of Evan's neck as Ev cards his fingers through the hair at the nape of Robb's neck.
"If you're so determined, my pretty prince, get to it." Evan turns his head enough to bite at Robb's ear, tongue tracing the shell in a way that makes Robb shiver. "Don't leave me hanging, love, finish what you started."
His hand tightens in Robb's hair, using the grip to bare Robb's throat to his mouth. Robb groans, needy, almost a whine, as he feels Evan's sharp canine teeth sinking into his neck. He thinks, wild and hopeful, that maybe Evan would break skin, grin at him with a smile like the weirwoods, reddened by Robb's blood, and Robb will have to fall back into Evan's bed on a regular basis, for how could he ever deny himself the man he loves when he looks like such a holy thing for him to worship?
Evan would never hurt Robb like that, though, not without permission, and Robb can't make himself beg for it the way he wants. Instead, he turns them both so that Ev is pinning Robb to the wall, and grips at Evan's hips with a strength that belies his desperation for all of Evan.
He falls to his knees in supplication, looking up at Evan with a devotion bordering on reverence. "You're mine," he whispers fervently. "As I am yours." He kisses the cock his blood craves always. "No one else can satisfy you like I can, no one else can have you like I can." Robb can't hide the burning jealousy in his voice at the memory of how they got here. He turns bright blue eyes up to Evan's desire-filled expression. "Fuck me like it."
Evan groans, low and strangled, and Robb watches his eyes turn nearly black, the dark blue he loves disappearing beneath a flood of arousal. He grips Robb's chin, and Robb lets his jaw drop, a willing acceptant for the sacrament of Evan's seed.
"Fuck," Evan whispers, guiding his cock past Robb's lips. His fingers spasm on Robb's chin. "Fuck, Robb, you can't look at me like that, you can't fucking—" his voice breaks when he hits the back of Robb's throat. His hips rut forward, and Robb does his best to relax enough to not completely choke.
Evan lets his hand slide from Robb's chin to the back of his head, keeping him from cracking his skull against the stone. Robb has a moment to be filled with affection, before Evan begins fucking his throat in earnest.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Evan murmurs, as Robb happily gags on his cock. "So fucking jealous you needed me to remind you of what you gave up? Couldn't even choke on it yourself?"
Robb moans, his hand finding his own hardness and stroking in time with Evan's thrusts. His eyes close for barely a second, a breath of a thankful prayer, before Evan is tapping at his cheek.
"Open your eyes, love," is the low rasped order. "Wanna see you." Robb must look a mess, he knows — he can feel how his eyes are wet with tears, the drool soaking his beard — but Evan's expression is hungry, like Robb is a feast for his eyes alone. "Fuck, you're beautiful like this, y'know that? Y'look wrecked, love, my pretty prince choking on a cock. You were made for this, weren't you?"
Robb would agree if he could — that he was made for this, to spend his life on his knees for Evan, made to prove his devotion by letting Ev use him as he wishes, depravity in the most holy of forms — but he would never be able to vocalize all that Evan is to him. He moans around the cock filling his throat instead, delighting in the way Evan's hips stutter, the way Evan braces an arm against the wall and falls forward like it's a herculean effort to stay standing when Robb looks at him like he's the only god he'll ever need.
Evan's hand pushes Robb's head forward until his nose is pressing into his belly, and holds him there as his hips rut into Robb's mouth. Robb groans around him, air cut off and his veins lighting with a hot pleasure that makes his stomach tighten. He spills himself over his hand, making a mess of his breeches. Evan whispers a ragged "fuck" and a pleased, self-satisfied warmth fills Robb's chest as Evan's cock twitches and comes down his throat. He's unpracticed now, at swallowing every drop, and his mouth quickly fills despite his best effort, leaking out the corners of his lips.
Evan is panting heavily as he withdraws and pulls his breeches back up. Robb meets his eyes as he catches the seed escaping his mouth on his thumb, licking it clean. Evan groans, hauling Robb to his feet and kissing him like he needs it to breathe. He lifts Robb's dirtied hand, still covered in ropes of Robb's own seed, and Robb has to remind his heart to continue beating as Evan's tongue laves over his fingers as if Robb's release is a fucking delicacy.
Evan collapses against Robb, face buried in the crook of his neck. Robb is helpless to do anything but hold him until they both stop shaking. It's a long time before Evan pulls back. A soft kiss is pressed to Robb's mouth.
"We're definitely late to lunch now," he mutters, a bright smile on his face as he rests his forehead against Robb's.
Robb nods, suddenly cold. "Yes." He watches the light dim from Evan's eyes, exactly as it had when Robb had broken things off 18 moons ago, like Evan already knows what Robb is going to say. Robb says it anyway. "This, um. This probably shouldn't happen again."
"Of course," Evan agrees, too easy for the disappointment Robb reads clear as day in his face. He guides Robb away from the wall, and falls into step next to him as if they hadn't just been entwined in a hallway. "You should probably change your breeches, should we go to your room before the dining hall?"
Robb lets the conversation shift directions, shoulder bumping Evan's as they walk, scant inches of space between them — unassuming to any who pass, because everyone knows Evan is the moon Robb circles. Robb watches his profile as they walk, overcome with adoration. This, he can give voice to. "You know I love you, right?"
Evan smiles at him, and Robb's heart jumps. "As I love you."
Robb nods in relief — nothing has really changed between them, then — and they fall into a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his rooms.
summary: Robb and Evander deciding to lose their virginity to the person they each trust the most — each other.
Okay so the smut is also not in this chapter 😅 jon took over and then arya showed up and the chapter just kind of got away from me a little. next chapter though! for definite. Please lemme know what you think though!
tags: robb stark x male oc, making out, evander bolton's hair pulling kink, stark-typical possessiveness
3.7k words
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By the time the midday meal rolls around, Evander's mood is dark. Robb had spent the lesson hours sitting in on his father's morning petitions, so Evander had been forced to sit alone at their shared desk. He still hadn't returned by the time archery lessons started. Theon was always smug and irritating when it came to archery, aware he was better than Evander at it and lording it over him. He'd spent the whole hour poking at Evander, annoyed that Robb had first stood him up and then walked into breakfast wearing one of Evander's shirts.
Even the sweet summer strawberry wine — heavily watered down but no less cloying — that Sansa had convinced Lady Stark to bring out doesn't lift his spirits. He scowls behind his cup, watching Theon do a dramatic reenactment of every failed shot Evander taken that morning for his fellow squires.
"Just ignore him, Evan," Jon says. He's the only one brave enough to weather Evander's mood — likely because Jon could often be just as bitchy as Evander, and because he'd known Evander when he was just a scared child jumping at shadows. "He's only doing it to get attention."
"A bit difficult to ignore when he's doing this where everyone can see," Evander grumbles. He stabs his knife into his roast a little more viciously than required. "He's mad that Robb didn't sneak out to the brothels with him last night, and that I'm apparently hogging all of Robb's time."
"Ah." Evander eyes Jon, who seems a little too dismissive. Jon sighs, and elaborates, "This is more of your pissing contest over who gets to be Robb's best friend."
A blank, slow blink. "What."
Jon shrugs. "You and Theon. Since you two got here, practically. Competing over who's closer to Robb, fighting for his attention. It's only gotten worse in the years since the others arrived. You're both possessive as shit over Robb." Jon rolls his eyes. "It's only annoying sometimes, mostly it's entertaining."
A hot flare of possessive anger spikes in Evander's gut, and his grip tightens on his knife.
"There's no contest. We're not fighting over Robb." I'd win, any day, Evander thinks, trying to tamp down on his irritation. He wants to shut that rumor down, wants to tell Jon that Robb is his, unequivocally, that they're going to bed each other tonight and Theon can only dream of being so wanted by Robb. He keeps his mouth shut instead, stabbing at his roast some more.
"Right," Jon drawls, skeptical expression a dead ringer for Lady Stark's. In a less charitable mood, Evander would point out the similarity just to pick a fight. "And you're murdering your lunch because you're not in a bitchy mood over Robb being out of your sight for longer than five minutes today."
"I'm not—!" His voice is too loud. He cuts himself off as everyone within a table of them turns to look. Theon is smirking like he knows he's gotten under Evander's skin. Evander inhales deeply, forcing himself to unclench his hands. "I just don't like not having him around," he continues in a quieter voice, aware his tone verges on whining. It's just Jon, and Jon is safe enough to complain to. "Lord Stark doesn't usually keep him so long, and morning petitions were over hours ago."
"He's the Heir," Jon points out. "And he's fifteen now. Are you actually surprised Father is taking over more of Robb's education?"
"Don't be reasonable, Jon, I'm complaining at you."
"I noticed," Jon says dryly. Evander scowls halfheartedly at him and gets up to go track Robb down himself. "No," Jon calls flatly as he goes, already shifting to go sit with the other pages. "Don't go. The conversation was riveting."
Evander ignores him, picking up his cup of watered-down wine and leaving the dining hall.
He makes his way out to the courtyard, and takes maybe five steps away from the door when he hears a faint giggle from above. Instinctively—because one does not grow up with Arya Stark without developing such instincts—he braces himself, stumbling only slightly as a weight lands on his shoulders. He drops his cup automatically and reaches back to lift Arya's legs around his waist.
"You're getting sneakier," he tells her. A puddle of red spreads under his feet, the last of his strawberry wine soaking into the dirt. He mourns it only briefly as Arya giggles and winds her arms around his neck. "I hardly even heard you this time."
"How do you always know?" she asks, clinging to him as he continues to walk. There's a hint of a pout in her voice. "I can't ever scare you."
"Magic," Evander says conspiratorally. "I've got a sixth sense for mischievous little wolves." Truthfully, Evander had learned to be hyperaware of his surroundings long before ever coming to Winterfell — Ramsay delighted in making him suffer if he were caught unawares — but Evander wouldn't tell Arya that. "Why are you sneaking around, anyway?"
Arya wriggles and pokes at him until Evander drops her to the ground. "Hiding from Septa Mordane. She says I need extra sewing lessons, and I’m skipping. D'you think the gardeners will let me have some oranges?"
"Most likely, but ask politely," Evander says easily. "They're less likely to tell on you to your mother if you're nice, and especially if you offer to help." She nods seriously. "Don't suppose you know where your brother is?"
Arya shrugs. "He's sick, I think."
"What?"
"Saw him going to Maester Luwin's tower earlier," Arya informs him. "Looked shifty about it, probably hiding it from Mother and Father and you."
"What?" Evander blinks, almost offended. "Why, why would he want to hide from me?" The thought of Robb hiding anything from him makes Evander's lungs freeze with panic. Perhaps Robb had changed his mind. Perhaps he'd decided Evander wasn't worthy of his affections. Jon's exasperation over Evander's 'pissing contest' with Theon rears its head, and for a horrible moment, Evander wonders if he'd upset Robb by constantly being at odds with Theon. He feels sick.
Arya shrugs, oblivious to Evander's thoughts. "Dunno. Probably he doesn't want to worry you. You always worry when Robb's ill." She peers up at Evander, frowning. "Maybe you should go see Maester Luwin, too," she adds bluntly. "You look like Sansa does when I sheep shift her bed. She almost threw up the last time."
"I remember," Evander mutters, and he does, because the fighting between the girls had gone on for two days, and somehow Evander himself had been roped into helping Sansa get revenge. Probably best not to mention that, though, Arya kicks shins like a horse. "Thanks, Arya, I'll… I'll do that."
She's edging slowly behind the courtyard wall, and when Evander turns to look behind them, he sees Septa Mordane looking around for the wayward Stark child. He shifts a couple steps to the right, blocking Arya from view more completely. She beams at him before running off towards the glass gardens.
He waits until she's out of sight before he turns around and starts walking towards Maester Luwin's, intentionally crossing Mordane's path.
"Ah, Lord Evander!" The septa waves him down. Her smile feels patronizing — she's never much liked Evander, always tsking when he comes back to Winterfell with bloody knuckles and a feral grin, always eyeing his closeness to Robb with something that looks like disapproval. He's fairly certain she thinks he's a bad influence on Arya. "Have you seen the Lady Arya anywhere? She's late for her lessons."
Evander shakes his head, pretending to be surprised and concerned that Arya has run off. "No, no, I haven't seen her since breakfast. I'll be sure to send her back to you if I do come across her, though."
"Will you?" Mordane asks skeptically. "You've no idea where she might have run off to?"
Evander smiles saccharine-sweet at her, amusement filling him at the barely disguised flash of discomfort when she catches sight of the sharp canines briefly visible. "You might check the godswood," he says, helpfully. "Perhaps Arya has decided to spend her afternoon in commune with the gods."
"Ah," Septa Mordane visibly hesitates. Evander has never seen her set foot in the godswood, but given Lady Stark never seems comfortable there, he doubts the equally Southern septa would be. Sure enough, Mordane shakes her head and relents. "No, no, if she's there, I'll not disturb her. Faith is more important than sewing, and even she can't get into too much trouble in such a sacred space."
"The gods are always watching," Evander agrees cheerfully. "And nowhere in the Seven Kingdoms are they more present than the heart of the North. I spent hours in the Dreadfort's godswood, myself, though nothing compares to Winterfell’s, of course. Less bloody, for one."
"Quite," Mordane mutters, giving Evander's cheerful expression a wary look. His bright grin widens, edging on unsettling, and Mordane's face pales a shade. She turns on her heel and marches back inside the keep.
Evander's expression drops, scowl reforming on his face. The morning's irritation carries an edge of hurt now, and he stalks off towards Maester Luwin's. His hand flexes and clenches into a fist. He wants to hit something, wants to go into Wintertown and pick a fight with one of the drunk men there, take the edge off of his emotions before anyone Robb has to read them in his face.
He can't do that, though. After the last time Evander had come home, beaten half to hell from a fight he'd purposely lost, Robb had made him swear not to go looking for one anymore. Sansa had cried when she saw him, and Lord Stark had worn the deeply disappointed face that made Evander burn with shame, and Lady Stark had kept the younger children away from him for days, but it was Robb's hurt eyes and defeated tone that had made Evander promise.
No more seeking fights. No more baiting grown men into beating him into the ground just to escape his own mind. "It's not healthy," Robb had insisted, and then pulled the wide-eyed quivering look he knew Evander had no defense against. "I don't want to find you dead in some alley. I won't lose you to that, Evander." Robb never used Evander's full name, so it had struck with the weight he'd wanted it to. Evander had stopped looking for the fight.
Luwin's study is empty. No Robb, no maester, no apprentice physician. Evander jerks a hand through his hair and blows out a breath. He really feels like he should know exactly where to find Robb, but the problem with nearly always being together is just that — they are almost always together, and he has rarely needed to find Robb.
He takes the steps back down two at a time, and bursts out the tower door, squinting in the summer sun. He looks around the bustling courtyard, and takes a second to calm himself. His eyes drift to the red leaves reaching above the godswood walls, and he shrugs to himself.
"Might as well," he mumbles to no one, and sets off in that direction.
He's barely opened the gates to the wood when a hand wraps around his wrist and he's yanked inside. The fact that Evander knows the shape and feeling of these fingers is the only thing that keeps him from drawing his dagger on the person who dragged him into the godswood. Robb's eyes are bright, but not with fever, with the same light Evander is usually regarded with. Something in Evander's chest settles now that Robb is near. He breathes easier.
"Ev!" Robb cheers quietly, bare inches of space between them. "I was just coming to find you!"
"Were you?" Evander asks flatly. He drags his eyes away from Robb's as the other boy frowns at his less than enthusiastic response. "Have you been here all morning?"
"Ev, why are you—?" Robb shakes his head. "No, not all morning. Father had petitions, and then he wanted me to learn to read the grain reports, and they were so boring, Ev, I was dying, I swear—"
"You were not," Evander interrupts, a smile starting to tug at his mouth despite his irritation.
"There is nothing interesting about barley, Evan, one more moment and I would have lost my mind—"
"You certainly don't feel that way about the barley cakes Cook serves at breakfast."
"That's different, and anyway, I don't have to read reports on how many cakes are being eaten, do I?"
"Not yet," Evander muses, fighting the grin at Robb's half-hearted scowl. "I imagine it'll come when you start reviewing the kitchen's cost reports."
"You are being particularly unhelpful today," Robb declares, a pout forming on his lips. "What's wrong?"
"You left me to deal with Theon all morning," Evander pointed out. "He's quite upset that you spent the night with me instead of him, and he has made his displeasure clear."
Robb's expression darkens, and he looks down at Evander's hands, turning them over gently, searching for signs that Evander had been clawing at stone walls. "Did he—?"
"No," Evander cuts off, "nothing like that. He wouldn't, not after last time. He's just been extra irritating today. Plus, we had archery this morning, and you know how he gets."
"I'm sorry," Robb murmurs, glancing up to meet Evander's eyes. "Father only let me go an hour or two ago, and I, I had some… questions, so I visited Luwin. I didn't mean to take so long."
"Questions?"
Robb's cheeks go pink, and Evander finds himself unable to look away. "About, er, our plans? For tonight?" His thumbs rub nervous circles into Evander's wrists. "Just, y'know, what oils we should use, an-and how to do it, uh, safely." He looks at Evander earnestly. "I just don't want to accidentally hurt you! And Luwin's good, I swore him to secrecy, he won't tell anyone."
Evander thinks that maybe vows of secrecy to the heir do not outweigh vows to the lord — the maester at the Dreadfort would certainly go straight to his father with anything Evander tried to swear secret, then turn around and tend to Evander's injuries after he was punished for it — but Luwin was a good sort, and Lord Stark hardly the kind of man to punish his son and ward for any… indiscretions.
"Arya said you looked like you were trying to hide from me," Evander says after a moment. He shrugs at Robb's frown. "And Jon was talking about…" He trails off, shakes his head at Robb's questioning furrow. "I thought maybe you were tired of… I thought maybe you'd changed your mind. About, well, me."
Robb's frown deepens. He steps further into Evander's space, crowding him against the wall. He lifts both hands to Evander's face, eyes intense. "That's crazy," he says matter-of-factly. "I could never tire of you."
Robb leans forward, pressing his mouth to Evander's, firm and decisive in a way he hadn't been last night. Evander's hands fly to Robb's waist as he lets himself melt under his touch. Robb hums happily as his tongue swipes across Evander's lips.
"You taste really good," he mumbles into the kiss, barely breaking away enough to speak at all. "Like, like strawberries."
"Summer wine," Evander breathes. His hands twist tightly in the fabric of Robb's tunic. "You missed it at lunch."
"Tastes better this way," Robb murmurs, and presses back in, closer, like he wants to fuse with Evander. He licks into Evander's mouth the second his lips part, like he can get drunk just off the lingering taste of the wine on Evander's tongue.
Evander's head starts to spin, his entire being consumed — breathing in nothing but Robb, conscious of nothing around him but Robb's waist under his hands and the weight of Robb holding him against the stone. He pulls back just enough to take a greedy breath, lets his hands wander under Robb's shirt, and meets his seeking mouth with a growing desperation.
Evander catches Robb's lower lip between his teeth, drawing out a soft groan, and he preens when he feels the shudder that travels down Robb's spine, the way his muscles tense under Evander's hands. He has the wild urge to bite harder, to draw blood and tear flesh, devour Robb so that he won't ever be without him. His hands tighten on Robb's hips, and he pulls him closer still, lightning seeming to strike as Robb's growing hardness rubs against Evander's own. His heart stutters, stops, and then begins to race wildly — he has no control over noise he makes when Robb shifts to press his thigh between Evander's.
Robb laughs softly into his mouth. "Excited, are you?"
"Shut up, you're not any better off," Evander mumbles. He traces his fingertips along Robb's hip bones, dipping below the waist of his breeches, and smirks at the way Robb inhales sharply. "Excited, are you?"
Robb hums, and slides a hand into Evander's hair, fingers tangling in the messy locks and tugging, tilting Evander's head to deepen the kiss.
Having Robb's hands in his hair has always relaxed him, but neither of them are really prepared for how thoroughly it undoes Evander in this situation. A low, strangled groan tears from Evander's throat, and his hands spasm against Robb's hips. He melts into Robb, his bones turning to molasses. His hips jerk against Robb's thigh, and the resulting shock of friction makes his knees weak. He barely keeps himself from finishing in his pants, and has to jerk away from Robb's relentless kiss.
Evander drops his head back against the wall, the cool stone doing little to clear his head. Robb is watching him with wide, fascinated eyes.
"What?" Evander gasps.
"You really like that, huh?" he asks, breathless and wondering. His hand rests on the curve of Evander's neck, thumb pressing against his pulse. Which means he can feel the way Evander's pulse jumps as he presses close again. A smug smirk spreads over Robb's face. "You've never reacted like that when I've had my hands in your hair before."
"Well, you've never been kissing me within an inch of my life while your hands were in my hair before," Evander tries to reason, resting his hands against Robb's chest. Robb's smug smirk doesn't fade. Evander groans, smile tugging at his mouth. "Oh, you're about to be insufferable with this, aren't you?"
"No," Robb says unconvincingly. Evander raises an eyebrow and waits. "Okay, maybe, but only in private? I promise I won't start pulling your hair in the middle of training."
"That's really big of you," Evander teases. "That's a lot of restraint."
Robb leans in slowly, grinning. "Well, it'll be hard, you know, but I'm willing to do it. For you."
"I'm very lucky to have you." He means for it to come out in the same joking tone, but there's an edge of deep-rooted sincerity that creeps into Evander's voice. It's uncomfortably close to letting Robb know exactly how deeply Evander's affections run.
Robb starts to frown in confusion at Evander's sudden change of mood. The frown, when he was just smiling and happy, looks out of place on Robb's perfect face. Evander shakes his head, and pulls the bright grin back to his face — easy, whenever he's looking at Robb.
He leans forward, kissing the frown away. Robb is easily distracted like this, a fact Evander files away for later, and he's quickly pressing Evander back against the wall once more. "Fuck, Ev, you still taste so sweet."
Evander loses himself to it for a minute, to the way Robb kisses him like he's trying to crawl down Evander's throat. He could live in this moment, but he breaks the kiss instead and pushes gently against Robb's chest. Robb steps back immediately, eyes wide.
"What? What's wrong?"
"We should stop before we get carried away," Evander mumbles, his eyes drifting to Robb's mouth — kiss-swollen and red and so very tempting. He blinks, hard, and drags his eyes back to the sky-blue of Robb's. "We, um, we had a plan. Re-remember?"
"I don't really care about plans right now, Ev," Robb grumbles, his hands sliding down Evander's arms. He laces his fingers with Evander's. "But you're… you're right."
He sounds disappointed, and Evander fights a smile. "Just, I don't think you want to be caught kissing me in the godswood."
"No," Robb agrees. His eyes darken slightly as he watches Evander's tongue dart across his lips. "This is mine. No one else's."
Evander rolls his eyes and straightens Robb's tunic, then his own. "You're so possessive." Fingers still interlaced with Robb's, he drags his best friend out of the godswood. "Who else am I going to be kissing? Jon?"
Robb's hand tightens around Evander's. He changes direction abruptly, dragging Evander behind the nearest building. His eyes are dark, and Evander has barely opened his mouth to ask what's wrong when Robb slots their lips together, kissing him fiercely. Evander blinks at him, stunned, when he pulls back. "You're not kissing Jon."
"N-no," Evander agrees dazedly. "Course not."
"Good." Robb nods decisively and laces their fingers together once more, pulling Evander along. He hums contemplatively as they walk. "Kissing is fun. We should do it more."
Evander makes a vague noise of agreement. The sun is glinting off the red of Robb's curls, and his mouth still tingles from the force of Robb's kiss, and his thoughts remain sluggish, caught on the curve of Robb's smile and the way Robb had tasted. He listens to Robb chatter, eyes never straying from the bright look on his face, trusting Robb to guide him.
When they reach the training yard, the last ones to arrive for class, Evander can't help smirking at a scowling Theon. Jon, when they stop next to him, looks at Robb's tight grip on Evander, takes in Evander's drastically improved mood, and rolls his eyes.
"I see the bitchy mood has improved," he deadpans. "Wonder why?"
Evander rolls his eyes back and shifts a hair closer to Robb. "It's a beautiful day, Jon, why would I be in a bad mood?"
"Yeah, Jon, it's a beautiful day," Robb chimes in. "Why would anyone be in a bad mood?"
and if love was contagious i might be immune to it
Summary: Robb and Talisa break up. title from Pain Like Cold Water by Noah Kahan
tags: cheating, robbxtalisa, robbxevan (dream), NOT TALISA FRIENDLY, talisa is a homophobic bitch, robb lowkey pining after evan, wet dreams bbyyy, background sansaery
the ring robb buys talisa:
masterlist
The break-up, when it inevitably happens, is terrible.
****
Robb knocks on Evan's door, something he only ever does when he knows Evan will be irritated to see him. When Evan yanks open the door, already glaring, Robb can't help smiling brightly at his sleep-rumpled best friend.
"Robb," Evan says in a rough voice that makes Robb's spine shiver. "Beloved. Light of my life. What the actual fuck are you doing knocking at four thirty in the fucking morning?"
Robb's too worked up to let Evander's irritation stop him. He pushes his way into Evan's flat. "Get dressed, come on. We're going ring shopping."
"Rin— what?!" Evan's fingers curl around Robb's wrist, cool and dry. "Robb, what?"
"I'm going to propose to her," Robb says, only slightly manic. He frees his wrist and continues to the bedroom. "Tonight, maybe. Or tomorrow. Soon."
"Robb." Robb crosses to Evan's closet and starts pulling out clothes, because Evan sleeps shirtless and is wearing indecently clinging grey sweatpants, and it's distracting Robb. He tosses aside the blue button down and the white henley and the dark jeans that hug Evan's ass so well — they are equally distracting, and the point of dragging Evander ring shopping for Talisa is to remind himself that he is not in love with his best friend. Evander comes up behind him and turns Robb to face him. His eyebrows are creased in concern. "Robb. Stop. What do you mean you're proposing? You were just here yesterday talking about how all you two do these days is fight."
Evan is less than a step away from Robb, and Robb's heart stutters, remembering the way he'd woken up a few hours ago. His face warms and he ducks away from Ev. "Yeah, well, you know. She's wanted to get engaged for forever, and if we're engaged, we won't fight, right?"
"That's not a reason to decide to marry someone."
"I love her," Robb says quietly. It doesn't sound like he's convincing himself, it doesn't. "I love her."
Evander's eyes are a dark blue, stormy with some emotion Robb doesn't want to examine further. He searches Robb's face before he sighs. "Alright then. Ring shopping." He pulls on a shirt and Robb valiantly does not stare at the way his shoulders flex as he does so. Fuck him, getting Evan first was a terrible idea, how is he supposed to handle three hours in a car alone with him, after— "We're waking up Jon though. And Sansa would murder you if you did this without her, you know she has opinions about rings."
"That's fine," Robb waves a hand dismissively, "we've got all weekend to shop. Talisa isn't expecting me home from Winterfell until Monday."
Evan pauses. "Robb Stark, you drove here from Winterfell and woke me up at four thirty for nothing?!"
Robb laughs. "You can sleep in the car, you baby. I'll even stop for coffee on the way back to Winterfell."
"Becoming friends with a morning person is the worst thing I've ever done," Evan grumbles, glaring at him.
"You love me," Robb teases. Evander's eyes soften, impossibly honest and open and warm — just like that fucking dream — and Robb changes the subject abruptly. "I'll meet you in the car. Ten minutes!"
****
Robb knows it's a dream. He knows it's a dream because for everything they've done together, he's never actually had Evander inside him like this — gods above, why has he never done this before?? He feels so full, and Evan is moving torturously slow and sweet, and Robb wants to cry from how good he feels.
"Open your eyes, love," Evan murmurs, and he sounds just as wrecked as Robb feels. His mouth is on Robb's throat, meaning his voice, low and rough, vibrates against Robb's pulse deliciously. "C'mon, pretty, lemme see you." Robb opens his eyes as Evander's mouth leaves his skin. Evan is bathed in golden sunlight, a halo behind him turning his hair to spun gold. Robb's breath catches as Ev smiles bright and beautiful at him. "There y'are."
Robb doesn't remember sliding his hand into Evan's hair, but silky soft strands tangle in his fingers as he tugs — harder than he means to but Ev's cock nudges against his prostate just then, and really, Robb can't be blamed for anything that happens when sparks are bursting behind his eyes and he's clenching around Evan's cock like he never wants to feel empty again. The sound that leaves Evan's throat is the sweetest thing Robb has ever heard, and Evan's forehead drops to Robb's, eyes closed.
Robb laughs breathlessly. "Open your eyes, angel," he teases, whispering the words into the breath of space between them. "I wanna see you."
"Angel?" Evan breathes as he complies. His eyes are a darkened sea of blue, one Robb is happily drowning in, and the depth of love Robb sees in them, warm and soft, steals his breath. "That's new, love."
Robb traces his hand over Evan's chest, tilts his head and pulls Evan's down to kiss him. "S'what you are," he mumbles clumsily against Ev's lips. "My angel."
The morning feels syrupy and slow, a sun-drenched moment in time where Robb's entire being is consumed by Evander, as it should be. Evan catches Robb's lower lip between his teeth and picks up his pace a bit, hitting Robb's prostate with unfair accuracy. Robb's thoughts scatter, broken moans filling the room as pleasure tightens in his gut. A cool, gentle hand hikes his thigh up for a better angle, fingers bruisingly tight, and Robb nearly whines at the heat that sparks through his veins. His head presses back against the pillows, back arching off the bed. His hands drag down Evan's shoulders, surely leaving red lines behind with how hard he clutches. Evan groans, and the sound goes right to Robb's cock, which leaks insistently against his belly. He is so close, he just needs...
"Gods, you're beautiful. Prettier every time." Robb's moan is decidedly wanton, bordering on desperate. Evander laughs warmly from above him. "Don't worry, gorgeous, I know what you need."
Ev's left hand trails over Robb's other thigh and wraps around his cock achingly slow, stroking once, twice— Robb registers the cold metal of a wedding band against heated flesh just as his world whites out and he comes harder than he ever has before.
He wakes panting, heart racing, with rapidly cooling cum sticky between his thighs. Four hours and one freezing shower later, Robb is knocking on Evander's door to go ring shopping for his girlfriend.
****
Robb, in his scramble to leave Winterfell that morning, had fully forgotten that Sansa had her girlfriend staying with them at the moment. Margaery had tagged along, smirking and saying something about Robb being amusing. He'd been roped into stopping for breakfast, so now he gets to sit in a booth across from them, watching them be way too disgustingly in love for 8 in the morning and pancakes. Sansa orders strawberry pancakes, Margaery orders blueberry, and when their plates come, Robb watches them fluidly swap half. He looks down at his own plate where half of Evan's banana-and-chocolate-chip pancakes have been deposited, because they're Robb's favorite even though he never orders them for himself, and he always steals some from Evan. His throat tightens.
Evander is a warm line of heat pressed against his side, and Robb, despite himself, is drawing parallels between the way Sansa and Margaery are tucked into each other and the way he himself is tucked against Evan. Evan is talking to Jon about something Robb tuned out of ages ago. His hand lands on Robb's knee, warm and heavy and so natural, and Robb jerks out of the booth. The table goes quiet as they all blink up at him.
"I just, uh... bathroom," he says haltingly, and walks quickly away. As he walks away, he hears Jon ask Evan if Robb is okay. He walks faster so he doesn't have to hear what Evander thinks of him right now.
The bathroom door swings shut behind him and Robb crosses to the sinks, bracing his hands against cold porcelain and staring at himself in the mirror. "Get it the fuck together," he whispers at his reflection. "We love Talisa. We're going to marry her and everything will be fine. We'll be normal again." The image of Evander, sun-haloed and smiling above him, rises in his mind, and Robb swallows hard. "Fuck."
He turns on the faucet and splashes his face with cold water, trying to wash that dream-memory away. The door swings open.
"You don't look like someone who's about to propose," Jon observes, leaning against the wall behind Robb, gray eyes piercing through him. "Or is hiding in bathrooms common practice for men in love with their girlfriends?"
"Maybe it is, how would you know?" Robb says waspishly. "You're not dating anyone."
Jon rolls his eyes. "Don't be a bitch, Robb. What is going on with you this morning?"
"Nothing. Nerves." Robb tears off a paper towel to dry his face. "Picking the right ring is a lot of pressure, Jon."
"So don't pick a ring."
Like it's so simple. Robb sighs, stares at his brother in the mirror. "I love Talisa. I want to marry her."
"Are you convincing me or yourself?" Jon raises one eyebrow. Robb doesn't answer. Jon sighs. "I just think you should think about what you really want, and not just what you tell yourself you want."
This sink is really very clean for a public restroom, Robb muses, staring at the distorted reflection of himself in the faucet. What he really wants... He shakes his head before he lets himself even consider it — that's far too serious, far too much risk. And he loves Talisa, he does. His voice is firmer when he speaks again. "I know what I want, Jon. This is what I want."
He straightens up, running his hand through his hair and forcing a smile back on his face. He claps Jon on the shoulder as he leaves the bathroom. "Let's go buy a ring, brother."
****
Ring shopping was tiring, more than Robb had expected. Sansa and Margaery had opinions and one of those opinions was that Robb had shit taste. When they finally approved a ring, it was a small - "classy, Robb" — round-cut diamond, set on a twisted band of gold with a row of tiny accent stones. A beautiful ring, Robb has to admit. He thinks Talisa will love it.
The house is quiet when he enters, save for the soft jazz he knows Talisa loves to listen to when she's relaxing, and her faint moans floating down the hall. He smiles at the sound — it's been a while since he'd made love to her, walking in on her playing with herself seems the perfect segue. He shrugs off his coat, and quietly sets his keys down before heading down the hall towards their room. His hand wraps around the little velvet box in his pocket, a giddy feeling rising in his chest.
"Talisa, babe, I'm ho—" He barely registers the sound of the box hitting the floor, ring flying out and skittering over the hardwood. The happiness blooming in his chest dies swiftly. "What the fuck?"
"Robb!" His girlfriend gasps and shoves away the man who had his head between her thighs. "What are you doing here? You're... you're home early."
"Yeah, I can see you weren't expecting me," Robb bites out. His hands clench into fists. He glances around — candles lit, soft music playing, fucking rose petals on the bed, their bed, more effort than she's put in for him in months. "In our fucking bed, Talisa?"
"Hey, man, calm down," the other man frowns at Robb, lounging on the bed next to Robb's girlfriend like he belongs there.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Aemond," he holds out a hand that Robb stares blankly at, "Aemond Frey."
"Nice to meet you, Aemond," Robb spits caustically. A fucking Frey? His voice goes flat and hard. "Get the fuck out of my house before I break your fucking nose."
Frey scrambles to grab his clothes and runs from the room. Robb stares at a frowning Talisa until he hears the door slam shut.
"Why?" he asks simply. The image of her writhing under another man's ministrations won't leave his mind's eye. His heart feels shattered, every beat aching and making it hard for him to breathe.
"It's not what looks like, Robb." She jerks on her robe and comes close to him, lifting a hand and resting it against his jaw. The warmth the touch usually lights in his blood is absent, just cold revulsion making him flinch back. Her eyes fill with tears that tug at Robb's heart despite himself. "Darling, please, it was just a mistake."
"This is a mistake?" He gestures angrily at the candles, the mood music, the rose petals. "It looks a hell of a lot like it was planned, Talisa."
"Darli—"
"Don't," Robb cuts her off, voice cracking. "Don't call me that. What the fuck?"
Her face has fallen into a cold, unrepentant expression that looks so unfamiliar to him. "Don't act like you're so fucking innocent." Even her voice has changed, the flat and irritated tone a stark contrast to his sweet girlfriend. "You think I don't know that you ran to Evander fucking Bolton after that argument Thursday? You expect me to believe you didn't let him fuck you like he always wants to?"
"What?" Robb pushes the heels of his palms against his eyes, pressing hard until he's seeing stars. She's still glaring at him when he drops his hands and his vision clears. "The fuck, Talisa, no! I haven't touched Evan since I met you! I would never do that to you!"
"Right," she scoffs, and pushes past him.
He follows her down the hall. "Why would you do this?" he almost begs. "I thought we were happy!"
"Happy?" She whirls on him, a humorless laugh on her lips. "You're not that fucking blind, Robb."
"Wha—"
"This is your fault," she snaps, a finger poking hard into his chest. "You're a terrible boyfriend. Do you know how it feels, watching you choose Evander over me every fucking time?"
"I don't—"
Talisa steamrolls over him. "I told you the amount of time you spend with that man is wrong, countless times, and you continue to be friends with him anyway!" She sneers at him. "What kind of boyfriend runs off and shares a bed with another man whenever we argue? What kind of man does that? So, yeah, I found someone else to satisfy me! At least I know Aemond Frey isn't taking it up the ass!"
Robb flinches, her words landing far too close to the dream he'd woken up from this morning. "I, I don't—"
"Your mother would be ashamed of you if she knew," Talisa hisses. "Bad enough her daughter is a fucking degenerate—"
"Watch your fucking mouth about my sister," Robb snaps low and furious. Talisa falters back with wide eyes — he's never used such a tone with her before — and he just stares at her. He hardly recognizes the woman in front of him. "Four years together and you threw that away because you're jealous of Evan? Of something that ISN'T EVEN HAPPENING?!"
"I didn't throw anything away," she snaps, her voice raising to match his. "You're the one sacrificing our relationship for that man! You couldn't just choose me, you couldn't just cut him off!"
"You're the one who was just fucking someone else in our bed," Robb shouts, "don't you dare turn this on me!" He stops and takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. Through clenched teeth, he continues, "Evan has been my best friend practically my entire life, Talisa. I was never going to choose you over him, do you even hear yourself?!"
"I'm your girlfriend, Robb! I shouldn't have had to ask, I should always have been more important to you!"
"Were."
"What?"
"You were my girlfriend."
She laughs incredulously, eyes wide. "You're seriously breaking up with me?"
"You thought I'd stay with you?" he shoots back.
"So instead of trying to work things out, you're just running?" she bites. "Like a fucking coward."
"There's nothing to work out, Talisa," Robb sighs, tired now. "I don't... I will never trust you again. I don't even... I look at you, and I can hardly recognize why I loved you at all."
"I guess I can't be surprised," Talisa sneers. It's a disturbingly fitting expression on her pretty face, and Robb wonders why he never noticed this in her before. "This is classic Robb Stark, isn't it?" He furrows his brows and opens his mouth, but she reads the question in his face and cuts him off. "You've ruined every other relationship you've ever had, Robb, you're not stupid enough to not realize you're the problem."
He shakes his head. She's wrong, she's... "You can keep the house. I'll find somewhere else."
He walks quickly towards the door, turning as he passes her so they don't touch. Talisa scoffs. "Right, run and cry to Evander, just like you always do. You're fucking pathetic!"
He slams the door behind him. He's several blocks away, in the middle of a park, before he comes to a stop. His hand rakes painfully through his hair. He has no keys, no coat, not even his wallet. His phone died right before he got home. He sits on a nearby bench, resisting the urge to scream.
Talisa is wrong, none of this is his fault... right? Their relationship plays back in his head — all the times that he chose Evan over her. There's more than he thought. Even now, his feet have unconsciously chosen the route to Evan's house. What if she was right? What if every relationship he's ever been in has ended because he's a terrible partner?
He's not sure how long he sits there, stewing in his own guilt and heartbreak. It's pouring rain by the time he forces himself to get up and continue to Evan's. A part of him, some corner of his mind that latched onto Talisa's words, recoils at running to Evan again for comfort. But he has nowhere else to run — Theon is on Bear Island currently, and Winterfell is too far on foot. Besides he cannot bear the idea of going home to his family after dragging his siblings and Margaery around all day under the guise of proposing. How is he supposed to face Jon and Sansa after that? How does he look his parents in the face and admit he fucked up another relationship? He knows his mother wishes he'd settle down.
So Evan's it is.
He knocks on Evan's door an hour later, drenched to the bone. The rain was good for one thing — maybe Evan won't be able to tell he's been crying. The door opens five minutes later to reveal Evander, hair damp, in low-riding sweatpants and a tank top, his face falling into concern immediately.
"Robb? What's wrong?"
"I..." Robb blinks rainwater out of his eyes and swallows. Talisa's words —"You're fucking pathetic!" — echo in his mind, choking out his words. Evander would let him cry in his arms, Robb knows that — it would be safe and familiar and comfortable to let Evan piece him back together. He's had a whiplash of a day though — waking up from a wet dream about Evan like a fucking teenager, deciding to propose, being cheated on — and he also knows if he lets himself seek comfort from Evan, he will end up in Evan's bed, just like every other time he's fucked up some girl's life. He swallows again. "Talisa and I broke up." Evan blinks and starts to say something Robb can't hear right now. "Look, I forgot my wallet and keys. Can you drive me to Winterfell?"
"Uh, yeah," Evan agrees easily, looking surprised. Robb can't blame him — usually he'd be staying with Evander. "Give me just a second." He steps aside to let Robb come in out of the rain for a minute. Robb doesn't move. Evan furrows his brow. "Okay."
The car ride, all three hours of it, is silent. Evan tries to ask what happened, but Robb shuts that down — Evander is the last person Robb wants to talk about it with. He can't even begin to explain how he found Talisa, what she said, he definitely can't talk about the fact that she isn't wrong about how often he runs to Evan. When the car stops outside Winterfell, Robb is out like a shot. "Thanks for the ride."
"Robb!" Evan calls after him. When he glances back, Ev is standing by the car, looking confused and worried.
"I just wanna be alone, Evan, okay? I'll call you later." He takes the steps two at a time to get inside. When he gets to his room, miraculously avoiding his family, and looks out the window, Evan is still standing there. Robb closes the curtains and throws himself on his bed.
It's a long while before he hears Evan's car leave. It's even longer before he manages to fall asleep.
