Eventually eyelids fluttered back open, his smile glowing bright as Christmas fairy lights. It'd been so easy to get swept up in the moment, when fingers nudged at pleasure point so far untouched of late. A ragged sigh emptying his lungs left Robb lightheaded and a bit spacey; near deaf to any sounds but his heart beating, bah-bum, bah-bum, bah-bum. But it was a good kind of out-of-body experience; where he could almost envision himself set apart from all the action, peering down the same way as he'd peered upon Jon's sleeping form a bit ago, and know that all was well and proper and absolutely right in their world.
"Sure you don't want me to cut you loose?" Robb again asked, voice thick and unfamiliar sounding. This would be Jon's last opportunity to grab hold the brass ring, and a part of him very much wanted his lover to throatily growl, "Fuck yes I would!" and that would be all she wrote for this bloke. The darker side to Jon Snow. the one so very well hidden beneath layers of gentle breeding and general good naturedness that both frightened and excited Robb. The kind of laughing, chills-up-the-spine, hold your breath feeling one got when visiting a house of horrors.
Jon was the literal Jack in the Box, you see, and Robb a naughty little boy slowly turning the crank wondering when (and if) the explosion might happen.
"Just a hand, love," a feathery-light temptation offered while lowering himself in slow, slower, slowest degrees onto magnificent cock that had them both gasping by the end. He'd be sore afterward - Jon was a ruddy monster and thorough prepping only did so much - but Robb cared not a whit at that particular moment. He couldn't help but court trouble on a regular basis.