Bloody good thing Jon had listened to instinct, found the lion's share of his courage and spoken up against hoods and blindfolds and demanded with all the stubbornness of a horse stamping hoof and weight down upon groomer's foot that he and Robb always remain in the same room. If he hadn't, all the knuckle raps in the world couldn't help them sans precious sight. And what a way to positively reinforce expressing his needs! Why, a few words and following his gut had just created, in a tangible, memorable way, an opportunity for a special connect. Deep, strong, untouchable by Renly or Loras, boys would find just the right wriggle of nose or morse code blinking pattern uniquely suited to reminding one another for whom their hearts truly beat.
There. Doesn't that feel better? the voice inside Jon's head asked, to which he answered, Inexpressibly. Feels a bit... Well, a bit like sneaking. As it did before. And that voice - surely his own though Jon sensed it belonged to someone much older, sadder, wiser - replied, As if you have something precious to lose but it is worth the risk-taking all the same.
Yes.
Yes! Exactly that, the last few cubes settling into Boggle grid in a way which spelled everything out so clearly, this was what Jon had needed and now found in boyfriend's finger dancing.
"A stolen moment," he chuckled gently, flicking Robb's curled pinkie with a forefinger. "A tea break, right under their noses."
The previous month had undulated worse than typical roller coaster turn of phrase; emotionally up and down, up and down, up and down more times than a fat geezer with a poor constitution drinking prune juice. Between the anniversary of Kenneth's death and the botched romantic rendezvous, all the disagreements and confusion in regards to sex and relationships vs friendships and a heaping dollop of work slopped on top for the world's most unappetizing sundae had left a disconnect between them; a bad, stale taste polluting the air finally dispersing because Robb had just now given Jon what he needed in a way which could be digested. A way which made him feel safe and loved and Christ, wanted, desired and coveted more than Renly's approval for the first time since Robb had confessed to once kissing the tall, dark, handsome Daddy figure.
Jon brightened noticeably after that, fresh air in dingy lungs blowing out the dust after a winter's season.
"That thing you’re doing with your pinkie is almost like signing a J." He held up his left hand then, fore- and middle fingers slightly twisted and curled. "Did you know this is an R? J and R? Or is it too much?"