Robb’s mouth was hard against his, and it took Theon a second to respond, to grip the back of Robb’s neck and kiss him back. And then Robb was dragging his nails across Theon’s scalp, biting at his mouth, driving his hips into Theon’s until they were like to be ground to dust. And Theon was gasping into it all, staggering under Robb’s touch, hands ghosting around his king like they weren’t quite sure what to do. This is different, he thought, the words almost faint against the feel of Robb’s teeth against his neck, his collarbone, his ear.
Their clothes were tugged off in a frenzied rush, laces ripped out, buttons bouncing off the ground, until the clothes were just a rumpled heap on the floor, and they stood there, eyeing each other, breathing heavy. Then they were following their clothes, falling onto the ground, wrapped around each other in a mess of limbs, a tangle of dark hair and heartbeats. Robb’s skin was hot under his, and Theon felt like he was going to explode, so he kissed him again, sinking into Robb’s mouth with kind of a fervor, fingers knotting at his hair where the crown once was.
“Robb,” he managed to gasp out, the words smashing onto the ground in front of him as he felt Robb’s hands rough against his hips, jerking him up, and the ground was scratching at his knees. And then Robb was thick inside him, his breath ragged against Theon’s ear, and he couldn’t manage anymore words at all.
It wasn’t long before it was over, and they lay sprawled on the ground, hands a breath apart, eyes edging to look at each other, a beat before Robb reached over and twined his finger in his, his heartbeat echoing back at him, loud and thumping in the small space.
“That was,” Theon started to say, swallowing hard, “different.”
And then Robb was laughing, hand tightening in his his, and something in Theon’s chest seemed to swell and burst until it seemed they had forever left to live.