From the moment Jon had first met the new Targaryen ruling pair, he felt something pulling him to them, the odd sort of curiosity. Everywhere he looked those first days, he saw his feelings mirrored, so Jon had dismissed it all from his brain. After all, there had been quite a lot going on at that time, some looks thrown this or that direction were unimportant.
It became slightly more problematic when it hadn’t seemed to lessen with time. Jon’s men settled down, almost nobody even batted an eyelash, when the Targaryen King – Aegon – sat down at Jon’s table to talk battle strategy. Still Jon caught himself following the movements of the silver headed man every time when they were together.
He excused it to himself and also to everybody, who looked at him knowingly, as a family curiosity – he looked to find anything familiar. They were supposed to share a father after all. Though for Jon family would always equal Robb and Arya and Bran and Rickon and Sansa. Now either missing, gone or changed, but still a family – sheltered, hidden and cherished. Nowhere in his mind was there a place for purple eyed, silver headed, dragon riding siblings and aunts.
But family they were and they persisted in treating Jon as such, even when it became obvious they didn’t really know what to do exactly. But war dulled the significance.
Was somehow saved them, ugly as it had been, it gave them purpose, a common enemy, it connected them, because they knew how to act in war. They had been brilliant at war, but war couldn’t last and even theirs finished.
After it was all done, with Jon’s only excuse for staying gone, gone as the Wall, he both loved and hated, Jon found himself dragged south with his new family. For family, they had said, family lost and found.
And Jon relented, gave in, wanted to be part of a family, where he felt welcome, needed, wanted. They appeared as fascinated with him and Jon had been with them.
With Daenerys it was easy, easier then with Aegon. It should’ve been the other way around, but still Jon was more relaxed, comfortable, when he was with his aunt. Everything was easier with her, talking, laughing, even fighting. Jon could separate himself, feel the cold, rational anger and act around it, whereas Aegon just blurred the lines, fuelled the irrational part even more.
Aegon, who Jon had searched out so many times on the battlefield, he now singled him out in a second even in a full room, Jon had just walked in. Aegon, who crinkled his eyebrows questioningly every time he caught Jon looking at him, his mouth almost unconsciously curling in a smile.
Even after his excuses started sounding more and more lame, Jon’s fascination didn’t diminish. Judging by his recent dreams, it only grew.
Jon hadn’t wished for a lot of things in his life – a mother, when he had been young, a different life, his family safe – but after he woke up for a fifth time in as many days, drenched in sweat, achingly hard, still almost feeling that phantom touch of Aegon’s hands, Jon was finally prepared to admit to wanting the King as almost nothing before.
Even if he was family.
After months of hidden looks, half smiles, unfinished gestures and harshly denied truths, buried beneath of facade of family, Jon finally moved, acted.
It was almost easy, liberating, once he reached the decision, and surprisingly no one stopped him on his way to the King’s rooms. He nodded to Rolly, standing in front of the room, knocked and entered without waiting for permission.
He found Aegon sitting behind his desk, papers strewn all over it, looking half amused and half disgruntled at the sheet of paper in front of him, fingers black from ink. His silver hair, always so perfectly arranged, was standing up on one side, probably from running his hands through it, like Jon saw him do countless times. Aegon looked up as Jon entered, his eyes focusing and lightening, like Jon was all the salvation he needed from those papers.
Jon saw his brother stand up, as he half marched to him, opening his mouth to say something, but Jon was quicker. Quicker in reaching him, pulling him close by wrapping his hands around Aegon’s, he caught the surprised look as he took the advantage and closed his mouth over his brother’s. The world around Jon seemed to freeze that instant, it froze for one, two, three seconds until Aegon lifted his hands, and instead of pushing Jon away, he pulled him closer and kissed him back.
It was better than Jon’s dreams, having Aegon’s arms wrapped around his neck, sucking on his tongue, feeling his warmth around himself.
Jon’s hands landed on Aegon’s hips, and he pushed them forward, moving until Aegon’s back hit the edge of the desk. There was a crash, when Jon blindly pushed at the things on the table, as Aegon lifted himself and sat on it, pulling Jon closer.
The knock on the doors that followed stilled them both in place, eyes wide and locked on each other.
Aegon’s hands slid from Jon’s shoulders to rest on his chest as he called out everything was under control, his purple eyes never leaving Jon’s.
Jon watched as the tip of the tongue became visible at the corner of Aegon’s mouth, sliding down his bottom lip to the other corner, wetting his lips. He felt Aegon fisted his shirt, heard the muffled groan and Jon focused back on the blown purple eyes before him.
They were both breathing quickly, mouth open and bruised, Jon’s throat as parched as Aegon’s, judging by his chaffed lips. Jon felt his brother’s fingers brushing his bottom lip and he caught one of Aegon’s fingers between his teeth, gently biting it, before sucking it in and soothing the bite with his tongue.
“Gods, Jon,” Aegon whispered, licking his lips again, his eyes almost glinting, lust clearly visible in them.
“Jon, we shouldn’t,” he tugged his hand away and Jon bit him harder this time, cherishing the quiet moan, “we can’t.” He said again, blinking, sharpening in focus on Jon.
“You’re my brother,” he continued, when Jon remained silent, more clearer, stronger, even as he pulled Jon closer to him, spreading his legs to give him room.
Jon allowed himself to be pulled in, hands on his brother’s thighs pushing his legs further apart, standing there, resting his forehead against Aegon, surrounded by him.
“Half brother,” Jon corrected, “Targaryen at that.”
“Yes, now you are Targaryen.” Aegon narrowed his eyes at him.
“Shall I stop?” Jon asked, ignoring the comment, brushing his lips against Aegon’s.
“I want you.” Jon murmured against Aegon’s lips, not waiting for an answer, smirking slightly at Aegon’s breathless moan, at hands tightening on his shoulders.
His own hands slid back on Aegon’s hips and he slowly rubbed his hard length against Aegon equally hard one. “I need you,” he whispered at Aegon’s collarbone, dropping the kiss there.
“Do you want me to stop,” Jon’s mouth travelled upward Aegon’s neck, nibbling on his ear, “brother?”
Aegon turned his head at that, his mouth covering Jon’s, pulling him in a kiss almost brutal. They gasped, breaking the kiss, when Aegon wrapped his legs around Jon’s hips, rubbing their erections together.
“Don’t stop,” Aegon said, as Jon’s hands moved under his shirt, raking blunt nails upward his back, dragging his shirt off and Aegon lifted his hands to help. Jon tossed the garment as soon as it was off, hands returning to exploring the pale chest in front of him, fingers sliding over the taut muscles. Aegon kissed him again, just as messy as before, sucking on Jon’s tongue, biting his lower lip, and Jon retaliated by rolling the nipple his fingers just found.
His other hand slid down his brother’s sweaty stomach to the edge of his pants and lower still, cupping the bulge there. Jon relished the groan that followed, Aegon’s hands pulling at his shirt as he all but growled, “Strip.”
Jon glanced at Aegon’s eyes, smiling innocently. “Now?” he asked, as he rubbed his palm over Aegon’s cock, “I have to stop then.”
Jon chuckled at the frustrated tone, the desperation almost palpable. His fingers moved once more over their target, Aegon’s hips lifting in response, before he pulled away, striping his shirt off. He blindly pulled at the laces of his pants, before Aegon interrupted him, his mouth on Jon’s throat, hands pulling him closer again. Jon tore through the tangled laces, Aegon’s hands helping him push his pants down. Finally done, Jon dragged Aegon off the desk, managing to undo the laces there and at last there were no clothes between them.
Aegon took both their lengths in hand, relieving some of the tension with quick strokes. Jon stopped him soon, shushing his brother’s disappointed moan, before turning him around, bending him over the desk.
Aegon caught himself on his hands, pushing off the remaining things in the process, and they stilled for a second, Jon running his hand over his brother’s back, quieting him. Aegon laughed as Jon in next instant kicked his legs apart, as far as the pants around his legs allowed, before stepping closer.
“You could’ve asked.”
Jon bent over him, dropping a kiss on Aegon’s shoulder blade, as his cock slid between his ass cheeks, they both groaning at the touch. “Next time. Do you have –“
“Drawer,” Aegon interrupted, his hips pushing back against Jon’s, seeking the friction.
Jon blindly searched the drawer, his attention focused on the body in front of him, until his hand closed around something resembling a small vial.
He straightened, opening the thing in his hand, spilling the clear liquid on his palm. Deciding it was good enough, Jon coated his fingers.
“Hurry up,” Aegon demanded and Jon saw him looking at him over his shoulder.
Jon dropped the vial on the table, using his free hand to land a sharp smack on Aegon’s cheek, “Don’t be bossy.”
He ignored his brother’s smart response But I’m a Targaryen., in favour of sliding his slicked fingers over Aegon’s hole, before slowly pushing one finger in. He pulled it out and slid back in a few times, before he added another one, repeating the motion, watching Aegon moving his hips in time, fucking himself on Jon’s fingers. He added the third finger in, moaning softly as he felt Aegon clenching around them.
Aegon talked the whole time Jon prepared him, a constant stream of come on, I’m ready, hurry up, Jon, please, just do it, until finally Jon pulled his fingers out, spread some oil on his cock before filling Aegon in one sharp thrust.
As Aegon clenched around him, back arching, crying out, Jon stilled, hands digging into Aegon’s hips, eyes screwed shut, willing himself to not move. He felt Aegon moving, hips pushing back, allowing Jon to slide even deeper, before he registered the half chocked command to move.
They soon caught the rhythm, quick and hard, Aegon always demanding more, faster, harder, Jon, and Jon obliged, pressing him down to the desk, slamming into him with almost brutal force, and he knew Aegon would have the edge of the desk, he was bent over, tattooed across his hips, and that spurred him on even more.
Jon caught the desperate moan as he wrapped a hand around Aegon’s length and stroked, and even though the rhythm was all wrong, Jon soon felt Aegon tightening around him, body shuddering once, twice, before he was coming, Jon thrusting into him the whole time just as hard and fast, finally finding his release, Aegon already limp under him.
Jon caught himself on his hands above Aegon, his elbows buckling under the pressure, but he forced himself to pull out, Aegon groaning brokenly, and crashed at the chair not far away.
“Jon?” It wasn’t long before he heard Aegon shifting and Jon looked up to meet Aegon’s amused eyes.
“You know,” he started, as he moved in one clear motion, straddling Jon’s legs, “there is a very large bed in the next room.”
Jon opened his mouth to respond, but Aegon kissed him quiet.
“You’re heavy,” Jon grumbled, when they finally separated, even if his hands were already aroung Aegon’s waist, holding him in place.
“Well, you’re in my chair.” His brother laughed at his joke, before adding, “Not that I have anything against desks, but bed next time, yes?”