Chapter Text
She hears the crack before she feels it.
One minute, she’s debating the merits of Braavosi theatre with Sansa and the next, she’s on the ground, clutching her right leg to her chest, watching her ankle swell to double its size.
“Arya! Oh my god.”
Within seconds, both her sister and Jon, who had been walking a few steps behind with Gendry, are on her, asking her if she’s okay – obviously not – and if anything else hurts – no, just her pride.
The strong, calming presence behind her makes Arya look up. Seeing Gendry’s striking blue eyes looking over her with concern momentarily distracts her from her injury.
But not for long.
“Fuck.”
Arya grits her teeth against the pain shooting up from her ankle.
“You alright?” Gendry crouches down behind her, placing his hand tentatively on her shoulder.
For a moment, it’s like no one exists but them, just her and Gendry, her –
Her what?
Well she’s not entirely sure what they are to each other now.
Two months ago, he was her best friend, and he’s still that, but now he’s something more too.
Now he’s someone who kisses her regularly, who stays the night occasionally, and somehow always manages to give her toe-curling orgasms, after which he usually feeds her. The latter is probably the most important, since Arya is shit at doing that for herself.
They haven’t yet figured out what this shift means for their overall relationship, so for now, he’s also the guy who she’s fucking behind her family’s back, which probably means she should stop staring.
Arya tears her eyes away from Gendry’s and answers Jon instead.
“I’m fine, just hurts like a bitch.”
“I’m calling campus security to take you to the nurse’s.” Sansa announces and is already typing on her phone when Gendry stops her.
“No, it’s alright.”
Three heads whip up to look at him as he removes his hand from Arya’s shoulder.
“She weighs nothing and it’s a five-minute walk from here. I’ll take her.”
Before Jon or Sansa or even Arya can protest, Gendry scoops her up as if she does in fact weigh nothing and skips down the steps with far more ease than Arya had managed a few minutes ago. Jon and Sansa trailing not too far behind.
“Did you just body shame me?” She whispers to him as she wraps her arms around his neck.
Gendry looks sharply down at her, ready to defend himself, only to discover that she’s merely teasing him.
“Don’t make me drop you.” He threatens playfully and warmth blooms in her belly at the smile he gives her, reminiscent of the one she wakes up to sometimes.
The pain has now subsided to a manageable throb but Arya inhales deeply anyway, an excuse to breathe in the hint of cologne and sandalwood that she’s now forever associated with Gendry.
It’s a little jarring to realize that it’s been merely days since he’s been over and she actually misses him.
Ugh.
She doesn’t even want to think about the amount of teasing that will happen when Sansa and Jon eventually find out about them.
xxx
“Alright, so you’ve got your pain meds here, take only one every 6 to 8 hours. You’ve got water, snacks, all your assignments for the week. I also made a batch of that chicken stew you like so you can pop that on the stove whenever you’re ready.”
Arya tries to temper her annoyance as she watches her sister flit around her room, not staying still for a single moment.
“Sansa, I have a sprained ankle, not a terminal illness.”
The older Stark stops and fixes Arya with a raised eyebrow and hands clasped behind her back – a signature Sansa Stark pose and one that makes Arya smile in spite of herself.
“And how do you plan to take care of yourself while your roommate is still out of town for the next three days?”
“Gendry will be here. He lives only two blocks away and said he’d stop by if I need anything.”
In fact, she had promised to text him as soon as her sister was gone so he could come over and they could finish the game of Fortnite they’d had to put on hold when Jon and Sansa came to visit.
“Gendry, huh.”
Sansa fixes her with a wary stare that Arya tries to avoid at all costs. Her eyes flicker to her ankle instead. The campus nurse confirmed that nothing is broken, but it is a pretty bad sprain meaning Arya will have to stay off it for at least two weeks.
The idea of being bed bound for that long makes her want to rip her hair out, but the prospect of having the apartment (and Gendry hopefully) all to herself for the first time in months makes the whole thing somehow more tolerable.
If only Sansa would stop fussing and go catch her train already.
“Yes, Gendry. You know the guy who practically grew up with us? Jon’s college roommate? One of Robb’s groomsmen?”
“I know who Gendry is, Arya.” Sansa rolls her eyes, but her suspicion doesn’t waver.
Arya refuses to budge as well, keeping her expression blank as she and Sansa engage in a staring contest that’s incredibly reminiscent of their time as pre-teens.
Sansa’s phone breaks their stalemate and Arya is pretty grateful for it. She exhales a breath while Sansa sends a quick text message before tucking the mobile back in her jean pocket.
“Jon’s here to pick me up. Promise to call me if you need anything?”
Arya resists the urge to roll her eyes – some things will surely never change and one of them is Sansa’s mothering tendencies.
She ignores the impracticality of what her sister is asking for and nods anyway, “yes, I will. Now can you come give me a hug, since I’m immobile and then go catch your bloody train?”
Sansa’s face lights up in a rare way and she squeezes Arya a bit too tightly before grabbing her purse and practically floating out of the room.
Arya thinks she’s in the clear when her sister suddenly pauses at the door.
“Have fun with Gendry.”
The wink Sansa throws over her shoulder is downright devilish, and Arya wishes her game console wasn’t in the living room so she had something to throw at her.
“Goodbye, Sansa.”
Her sister’s laugh carries through the small hallway and out the front door of the apartment.
Arya falls back on the bed, grateful for a few minutes of solitude. A moment later, her phone buzzes from the nightstand and she doesn’t suppress a smile when she sees a text notification from Gendry.
Coast clear?
Yup. Bring pizza.
Yes, ma’am.
And no, she does not blush at all when a few seconds later, he also sends her a kissing emoji.
Nope. Not at all.
xxx
Two hours and several very competitive games of Fortnite later, Gendry is finishing off their pizza when Arya decides to bite the bullet and tell him.
“I think Sansa is onto us.”
He looks at her mid-chew and she really shouldn’t find his bewildered expression so adorable, but she does. She leans forward and swipes some sauce from his bottom lip almost entirely out of habit.
Gendry swallows quickly and wipes his mouth with a napkin, before pivoting to face her.
“But how? I literally stayed as far away from you as possible while she and Jon were visiting this week.”
Arya shrugs and looks down at her lap, a weird sense of insecurity washing over her, mostly brought on by Gendry’s panicked reaction.
“I don’t know. Sansa knows everything.”
There’s an awkward silence between them now and she hates it. The past two months have been pretty blissful, just the two of them figuring out this new thing between them. Now, it feels like other people are infringing on their little bubble and Arya doesn’t like it.
Still, she’s never been one to cower from a difficult situation.
“Would it be so bad if she knew?”
She peers at him timidly, and Gendry instantly picks up on her uncertainty. He moves closer, his warm hand landing on her bare thigh as he forces her to keep eye contact.
“Oh, Gods no, Arya. Of course, it’s not bad. You know I’d be more than delighted to run to the middle of the quad right now and announce to everyone that you’re my girlfriend. I just thought you wanted a bit of time before you told your family. Wasn’t that the plan?”
He is right. It was her idea to keep this quiet, mostly because of that deep-seated fear that this was too good to be true. If she and Gendry somehow imploded, it would be much easier to deal with the heartache if her family knew nothing of it.
At least, that’s how Arya thought before. Before she realized this thing between them wasn’t going away.
That this wasn’t just a fluke or something that they needed to get out of their systems. If anything, the feelings she has for Gendry have only gotten stronger over the past few weeks. It’s as if they’ve broken the dam and now there’s no turning back.
For someone who eschewed romance and considered boys to be more trouble than their worth, Arya has to contend with the fact that it is entirely possible she has fallen in love with her best friend.
What’s more startling is how she’s not scared at all, not even a little bit. In fact, the idea of Gendry telling the entire campus that she is his girlfriend makes her swell internally with pride, makes her feel elated in a way she’d never felt before, not with Micah, or with anyone else.
Arya isn’t really sure if she’s ready to confess all this to Gendry, at least not at the moment. So instead, she does her best to awkwardly scoot forward until she can rest her chin on his shoulder.
“You’d really do that?”
Being this close to him reminds Arya just how long it’s been since they’ve been this close. She tries not to get lost in his scent, the warmth of his blue eyes, and sturdiness of him besides her.
It’s pretty obvious that Gendry has missed this too. His hand purposefully drops to the inside of her thigh, skimming the hem of her shorts as the other dips underneath her tank top.
“I’d make t-shirts too,” His breath skirts her cheek and Arya shivers.
“Then maybe Ned Dayne can finally stop asking you for coffee after every goddamn fencing practice.”
If bewildered Gendry is adorable, then jealous Gendry is downright lethal to her senses. Arya knows he’s possessive and has been especially irritated by the persistence of her Dornish fencing partner.
Although, the idea of Gendry making t-shirts that say “Arya Stark is my girlfriend” is difficult to pass up, there’s a drive in her to remind him that it’s not Ned Dayne who can make her laugh until soda comes out of her nose; it’s not Ned Dayne who can turn her on just by looking at her; and it’s certainly not Ned Dayne who steals her breath away every time she sees him.
Spurred by her urgency to show Gendry exactly who she wants, Arya completely forgets about her injured ankle and tries to crawl into his lap, which causes a spike of pain to shoot up her calf.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy there.” Gendry grasps her hips to keep her in place, while Arya curses under her breath.
“Stupid ankle,” She mutters, trying to readjust to a comfortable position, when all of a sudden, Gendry pushes her back.
He eases her against the back of the couch, letting her stretch both legs out as he settles between them. At this angle, it’s nearly impossible to miss how dark his eyes have gotten.
“You have to be careful,” He urges her quietly, lips just inches away from hers. It’s so bloody hard to concentrate on anything other than Gendry right now. The intensity of his gaze, the weight of him between her thighs, and the steady trace of his fingers along her bare skin.
“I don’t want to be careful,” she whispers back, pulling her bottom lip in to stifle a moan as Gendry nuzzles her neck.
“I know and that’s what I love about you,” he murmurs against her skin and then curls his fingers into the waistband of her shorts, “ but maybe think on the bright side here. This is a good time to let me take care of you for a change, hmm?”
Arya knows exactly what he’s implying. She’s impatient in all aspects of her life, sex included. It’s no secret that she prefers to be on top most of the time, holding onto control for as much as she can. It’s always been that way with her, but over the past few weeks, Gendry has taken every opportunity to show her just how amazing it could be when she does relent a little.
Right now, his soft, teasing voice and wandering hands are making quite the case for why she should just listen to him.
“Okay, Mr. Waters, but you’d better make it worth my while.”
Gendry pulls back and smirks at her in a way that really should be considered illegal.
“Challenge accepted.”
Arya fully expects him to kiss her, but instead, he carefully slides her shorts down her legs along with her underwear, leaving her thighs trembling, and heat pooling low in her belly.
With her shorts gone, her skin feels feverishly sensitive and her nipples harden beneath the flimsy tank she’s wearing. Gendry’s eyes widen as he realizes she’s not wearing a bra.
Arya smiles lazily at him as she slides one hand beneath her shirt and starts to play with her nipple.
In the bright afternoon light, she can clearly track the flush rising on his cheeks and the way his mouth falls slack with arousal as he traces her movement. But he doesn’t stay that way for long. Gendry leans down and raises her injured ankle over his shoulder, pushing her other leg out and leaving her wide open for him.
Her throat runs dry as he lowers his torso and wastes no time in pulling her apart with his fingers and licking right into her clit.
There’s just the tiniest bit of pressure from her ankle pressing against his shoulder blade, but it’s nothing compared to the delicious bursts of euphoria Gendry leaves in his wake as he starts to lick and suck on her in earnest.
He simply gives her no quarter, keeping her pinned to the couch as his mouth wreaks havoc on her.
It’s almost too much when he unexpectedly stops and turns to kissing her thighs, while his fingers tease at her entrance.
Arya fully expects his fingers to find their way inside her and curl just enough to have her coming in seconds, but Gendry surprises her again, finding his way under her tank top instead.
It’s only then that Arya realizes that her own hand is still on her breast.
When Gendry starts to gently palm the other to match her rhythm, and his tongue settles back on her clit, the need to come nearly unravels her.
But unlike her, Gendry has patience in spades, and even as she begs him to let her come, he doesn’t waver from his treacherously slow rhythm. He knows exactly what will keep her writhing with pleasure and he won’t stop until she’s gone nearly mad with desperation.
After not being with him for nearly a week, Arya can’t even will herself to care.
Not when his tongue slides against that spot that makes her back arch off the coach and his name to pass through her lips over and over again. Not when every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire and every inch of her is tingling. She’s so, so incredibly close, she just needs a little more, just a little bit…
In her half-dazed state, she pries her eyes open, and the image of Gendry, her Gendry buried between her thighs, his mouth enthusiastically latched onto her pussy, is what finally does her in.
Arya feels her orgasm everywhere, in the throb of her clit, the tightening of her nipples, the indentation of Gendry’s fingers against her inner thighs, and in the erratic beat of her heart that threatens to tear through her chest at any minute.
The delicious ache slowly subsides into a pleasant afterglow and Arya revels in it for several long minutes, an arm draped over her eyes.
Gendry eventually slides his hand from underneath her shirt and presses a barely perceptible kiss on her hipbone, making her shiver. It’s almost too much in the best way possible.
“You okay there?”
The mix of pride and amusement in his tone is difficult to miss, and Arya smiles in spite of herself, peering at him from underneath her arm.
“I’d say I’m better than okay.”
The smile he gives her in return sparks something inside her that she’s not ready to confront yet. At least not while she’s still very much naked in front of her very hot boyfriend and he’s very much not.
She rises on her elbows.
“The real question is whether I have enough time before you have to go teach to properly thank you.”
Her legs are now draped over his lap and she doesn’t hesitate rubbing her heel along the prominent bulge in his jeans.
She’s not sure how it’s possible for someone who just ate her out so spectacularly in broad daylight to still blush under the weight of her suggestive stare, but Gendry somehow manages to turn scarlet at her words.
He recovers quickly, leaning over and kissing her deeply, tracing the seam of her mouth with that dangerous tongue of his.
“I think I can manage some time for you.” He teases, before kissing her once more. Tasting herself only amplifies her arousal and Arya wastes no time in pulling away from him.
“Then take me to bed, will you? I don’t think I can blow you properly while on my knees, not with this ankle, anyway.”
She says it so nonchalantly that if Gendry wasn’t so used to her, he would probably be taken aback. But since he has known her pretty much his entire life, he gets to his feet so quickly, it’s nearly comical.
Arya would laugh as he hastily scoops her up if the look in his eye also didn’t make her stomach clench in the most thrilling way possible.
Thoughts of her family, overly persistent suitors, and secret relationships dissipate completely as Gendry carries her through the hallway to her bedroom.
She has more important matters to attend to at the moment.
xxx