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His body is burning. The heat in the room makes him sweat, and breathing becomes a difficult task. Theon thrusts then, grunting in pleasure, his hips ondulating beautifully. Jon moans, his wet lips raw from biting and kissing. He spreads his legs a little wider and his pale hand grab Theon’s hip. Just- there, he whispers. Theon complies, his next thrust deeper, harder. Jon stifles a groan, and the Ironborn smirks. Good boy, he says.

Robb can’t help staring. He cups his cock through his breeches and sighs. Theon gives him a look then, his face flushed and sweaty.

“He is tight,” he grunts.

Robb nods. Jon is deliciously tight, Robb knows it better than anyone. He also knows that Jon likes to be bitten, likes to be kissed stupid and likes to have his cock sucked.

On his hand and knees, his half-brother is looking at him with his pupils blown wide, his lips shaped in a neverending gasp. When he moans, he moans for Robb, even if he calls Theon’s name. His damp curls stick to his face and there will be bruises on his hips from Theon’s fingers tomorrow.

Robb undoes his breeches and gets his hand inside, teasing himself. Theon says something to Jon, then. Robb doesn’t hear it, but both are looking at him and Jon whines, closing his eyes and going for his cock.

“No,” Theon orders, “not yet.”

He lets go of Jon with a wet sound and sits on the bed. He says something like here, Snow and sit. Jon frowns, but obeys. His back to Theon’s chest, his eyes set on Robb. When he starts rising his hips, Robb almost melts.

Theon won’t stop whispering things in Jon’s ear, making him gasp yes and fuck you, Theon while he moves his hips. In this position, Jon is exposed, on display only for Robb to see. On a specially hard thrust, Jon moans his name and Robb can’t take it any longer. He gets on the bed, crawling to his brother. He gives Jon a smile, and then kisses Theon over his brother’s shoulder. Greyjoy smirks in the kiss, tasting of himself and Jon both. Robb grabs him by his hair and sucks hard on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck,” Jon moans when Theon’s hips surge foward. Robb ends the kiss and Jon grabs him by the hair, demanding one himself. Robb complies happily, sliding his tongue over Snow’s. He drinks his moans, his gasps, and his blasphemies until Jon is desperate, until he can’t take it anymore.

Robb cups Jon’s cock then, wet and flushed an angry red. His brother arches his back, making Theon groan. Stark, Jon pleas, Robb. He smiles at his half-brother and wraps his hands around his cock, trailing his fingers up and down at the same speed Theon thrusts up. Jon uses a hand to keep Robb close, and grabs Theon’s right hip with the other. They move together, an obscene amount of filth falling from their lips.

A hand cups his cock and Robb whines. Theon is looking at him with that stupid smirk upon his face. Robb gets his breeches out of the way and Theon is able to move freely, thumbing the slit and wetting the head.

Jon’s eyes fix on the image and he seems to barely breathe.

“You know, Snow,” Theon whispers in Jon’s ear and Robb can hear everything now, “next time, I’m going to make you suck my cock while your brother fucks you from behind.”

Time stops for a second and then Jon spends with a choked moan, his body tensing like a bowstring. Theon follows, closing his eyes and thrusting deep into Jon. He falls on the bed, boneless and satisfied.

Jon doesn’t, though. He pushes Robb until he’s on his elbows and finishes him with fingers and tongue, his eyes never leaving Robb’s. That mouth is so wet and warm, Robb almost passes out when he spills. With a sigh, Jon licks his lips, gives him a tiny smile and kisses him on the cheek