Forbidden Snow in the North

Prologue:

It's completely natural to want things we can't have. These desires are often expressed with hope that reality will not be so cruel, and all wishes will be granted, if only you want that thing enough. But Robb Stark knew better. His desires had to be toying with him, for war seemed an easier thing to deal with. What he wanted was forbidden, and he couldn't even attempt at expressing his thoughts without fear of retaliation. He almost hated himself for it – almost. What he wanted was Jon Snow.

They lived as brothers, though Catelyn Stark's constant disapproval of Jon reminded everyone that he would always be a bastard, never a true Stark. Robb couldn't decide if that made his situation better or worse. It's one thing to fantasize about your brother, and another thing entirely to fantasize about a bastard. Regardless of what Jon's title was, the problem remained.

It was another restless night for Robb. He tried to sleep, but his thoughts were relentless. Instead of trying to decide what his feelings meant, he wondered back to how it all began in the first place. As kids he and Jon were always close. It was completely normal, aside from Catelyn trying her best to keep them apart. They learned sword fighting together, and Robb had always won. Once they had held hands while heading to dinner until little Sansa mocked them, for only other little girls were allowed to hold hands with each other. But Robb didn't understand, and Sansa didn't much care for Jon anyway.

On Robb's thirteenth name day he wasn't allowed around Jon as much. He was to spend more time in the counsel, learning from his father and other officials, for one day he would be Lord of Winterfell, and Jon would remain a bastard. Though Robb got to see him for meals it was usually very brief. Winterfell had many visitors, and whenever a meal was had during this time, Robb was to dine next to his mother and father while Jon was sent away to dine near the stables.

That's when it all started. Robb looked forward to the small moments with Jon. Even just getting to look at him from across the courtyard was alright. Robb started noticing things about Jon, like the way he licked his lips after a drink, and how he examined his sword before and after practice, and how his face always beamed when talking to Robb….

But what did it mean? He really did try to avoid thinking about it, because it couldn't possibly go anywhere. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling he got when Jon's smooth brown eyes starred back at him, and he most certainly couldn't ignore the tingling sensation that coursed through him whenever they happened to brush up against each other. Sometimes Robb even plotted ways to touch Jon, "accident" or not. And sometimes he decided to avoid Jon all together out of embarrassment, especially when Jon wasn't wearing a shirt. Robb had to admit to himself that he was attracted to Jon, since he spent some nights writhing around and curling his toes while getting off to the idea of taking off Jon's shirt himself. Gods I need help, he breathed. He constantly fought with the idea of separating himself from Jon, for his own benefit, but he knew he didn't have the strength.

Robb rolled over in his bed and shut his eyes. He had promised Bran he would go riding with him in the morning, and he needed rest. Before finally drifting away, he thought of what it would be like to have Jon sleeping next to him, and his heart ached.