Chapter Text
“Sansa, you know a lot of girls, right?” Jon asked.
Arya looked at him suspiciously as she took the washed dish from Sansa, drying it with a towel and putting it away. When she looked back up, her sister was wearing the same odd look on her face.
“Why?”
Jon held out his hands in mock surrender. “No! Not for me. For Gendry.”
“What?!” Arya nearly dropped her plate. Saving it at the last moment, it clanked on the counter with a loud ring. She stared at the polished surface, gripping it until her knuckles were white and she was sure her hands wouldn’t betray her again.
Sansa looked at her shrewdly before turning back to Jon. “Why, exactly, is this helpful to Gendry?”
“He likes someone. I’ve been trying to get it out of him for a week but he won’t give me a name.” Jon shrugged. “I thought maybe it was because he thought he didn’t have a shot. Figured you could help, or at least get some more details out of him.”
Just then, Gendry walked into the kitchen with the leftover food containers balanced on an empty plate.
“Where do you want this?” He asked, not seeing their expressions. When nobody replied, he looked up. “What?”
Sansa snapped out of it first, nodding her head towards the counter nearest the fridge. He nodded, very aware that he’d just walked in on something. After he set the food down, he turned around, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Everything alright with you lot?”
Arya couldn’t meet his eyes, so she furiously scrubbed at her plate with the towel, wanting to disappear.
“I told them about your secret crush,” Jon informed him. Against her best intentions, Arya took a peek at Gendry out of the corner of her eye. The blood had nearly drained from his face, and he stared at Jon in disbelief.
“Come again?” He sputtered.
“Oh come on,” Jon practically huffed. “Sansa knows most of the girls in her year and our year. Besides, she’s great at giving advice.”
Gendry looked at Sansa apologetically. “I’m sorry. You really don’t need to…ah… look, it’s not necessary. At all.”
When Jon opened his mouth again, Gendry cut him off. “You don’t know the first thing about this,” he said evenly. “When I ask you to back off, I mean it.”
“Would it really kill you to talk about it?” Jon replied, frustrated.
As they argued, Arya kept her eyes down, drying dishes until she reached over to find her stack had disappeared. She looked up, expecting to see Sansa watching the boys, but instead found her older sister examining her keenly.
That was no good at all.
Sansa dried her hands and turned, clearing her throat expectantly. They fell silent, Gendry rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and looking at the floor.
“Gendry, I do think some advice, or at least conversation, wouldn’t hurt,” she said gently, holding up a hand as Jon opened his mouth to crow. “But, I don’t think I would be of any help here.”
She paused, eyeing him. “I think you should talk to Arya.”
His head snapped up, as did Arya’s. She was so focused on Sansa’s face that she didn’t see the understanding dawn on Gendry. Though she opened her mouth to talk, no words would form.
Sansa continued on. “She knows you best, and you definitely need a girl’s perspective. So of the two of us, I think she’s your girl,” she stated matter-of-factly.
Arya’s heart was thumping wildly in her chest, but she couldn’t find the words to yell at Sansa. As her older sister passed by, giving her a squeeze on the arm, she could only stare, wondering what in the hell was going on in her sister’s head.
Sansa grabbed Jon on her way out, and suddenly Arya and Gendry were alone.
Unable to look at him, Arya cleared her throat several times, willing her voice to come out steady. “So, uh … do you want to talk about it?”
Gendry’s voice was no better than hers. “I don’t really know where to start.”
“Okay. How about, um, I ask you some questions, and maybe I can figure out more about her that way.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to give you any suggestions, though. I suck at this too.”
He chuckled softly at that, and she felt her mouth turn up for a brief second before she remembered where their conversation was headed, and everything turned sour again. She looked around for something to do, needing to keep moving. Then she spied the leftover food on the counter and decided to put it in some containers before refrigerating it.
She brushed by him to grab a chair, ignoring the tingle that went through her body at the contact. “So, when did you meet her?”
“About five months ago, when classes started up again.”
She hopped up on the chair, putting a knee on the counter for support as she reached for the containers. “So she’s in your class?
“No, she’s not. Do you need help?” She heard him move closer and waved him off.
“I’m fine. So she’s not in your year? Then Sansa’s?”
“No.”
Now Arya he turned to look at him. “My year?”
Gendry nodded. “Why so surprised?”
She realized she was biting her lip and stopped, shrugging in response. “Dunno. Just didn’t think you’d ever like anyone that much younger.”
“It’s not a huge difference,” he said defensively. Then he paused. “Is it?”
“Not to me,” she replied, and his face relaxed. “All the guys my age are gits anyways,” she added, looking away and missing the small, hopeful grin on his face.
She finished getting the containers down and turned, nearly falling off the chair when she saw him standing directly in front of her. He held out his hand to help her down, and after a moment, she took it. When her feet touched the floor, she let go quickly, instantly missing his warmth as he left to put the chair back. Internally, she scolded herself for letting him get so close.
“So I’m guessing a description wouldn’t be very helpful,” she said, starting to open the food.
“Probably not. Long brown hair, quite small.”
“Everyone’s small to you,” Arya replied dryly, not needing to turn to know he was grinning. “Alright, so how did you meet, if not in class?”
Gendry hesitated. “Mutual friend.”
Arya paused, trying to figure out who else Gendry hung out with, frowning when she couldn’t come up with a name or face besides… “Hot Pie?”
“No…Jon.”
“Jon?” Who the hell does my brother know in my year besides me? She wondered. “Okay, so, have you hung out with her, without Jon or other people?”
“A few times, yeah.”
Arya ignored the hurt she felt at his answer. “And?” She pushed.
“And what?”
“Stupid,” she huffed, turning around. “What was it like? Did you talk a lot? Did she seem comfortable? Happy? Eager to get away?”
That last one slipped out, and there it was again, that stupid grin on his face. Stupid. She shoved the noodles into one container rather forcefully, snapping it shut with a loud click before moving on to the next.
“She seemed content,” he finally said thoughtfully. “It wasn’t so much that we talked a lot, just … there was no need to fill the silence, you know? We talked, but not incessantly.”
Arya nodded in understanding despite the lump in her throat. It was much like the way she felt around him. “Yeah, I get it,” she said softly, not noticing when Gendry moved closer. She was silent for a minute, wrapped in her own thoughts.
“Listen, Arya,” he began softly, and she snapped out of it.
“Right! Sorry. So where were we?” She cut him off briskly, knowing that if he kept on going, she’d lose what little control she had left. “So she’s comfortable with you. That’s promising. Does she like music or TV or something?”
“She’s got good taste in music,” he replied, his voice still quiet, and she absently remembered he’d once said the same thing about her.
“So is she here by herself? Or does she live with her family?”
“Her family’s huge. But no, she just lives with a couple others.”
How have I never met this girl? Arya wondered again. She took the containers to the fridge, propping the door open with her foot as she set the food inside. When she turned around again, Gendry was leaning against the counter, his blue eyes watching her curiously.
She crossed her arms. “So, how have I never met this person?”
A grin flashed across his face, so quick that she thought she might have imagined it, but the amusement lingering in his eyes told her she hadn’t.
“This isn’t funny,” she told him, some of the anger and hurt slipping into her voice.
He sobered instantly, coming over to stand in front of her. “Arya,” he said quietly. “Do you really not know who I’m talking about?”
She looked at him incredulously. “How could I possibly know? You haven’t actually told me a thing about her.”
Gendry stared down at her, indecision written all over his face for a few moments. Then he took a step closer, and she tried to move back but hit the counter instead. He took another step, and another, until their bodies were nearly touching, and she could practically feel the warmth radiating off him.
Arya opened her mouth to ask him what game he was playing, but Gendry shushed her with a finger over her lips. “Let me tell you about her, then,” he said, smiling softly, and continued before she could tell him she didn’t want to know.
“She’s so small, yet still manages to be a huge pain in my ass.” Arya stilled.
“Her tongue is nearly as sharp as the switchblade she hides in her boot. I’m pretty sure her dog isn’t really a dog but a wolf hound in disguise, ready to eat me alive,” he continued, and she felt her mouth go dry.
“She has really good taste in music, though she’ll hold it over me for days.” Now the finger by her lips was shaking slightly.
“She has a huge family, and yet she volunteers to be my family without a thought. And she calls me stupid, but can’t realize that she’s been upset at me for talking about her for the past ten minutes, so really she’s no better.”
Gendry finally took his hand away, and Arya felt lightheaded. He watched her as she absorbed his words, his face unreadable. She swallowed several times, finally getting enough moisture in her mouth to speak.
“Me?” She asked weakly, and he nodded. “Are you sure?”
He grinned. “I’m sure.”
“But…” she searched for words. “When…?”
He shrugged sheepishly. “Can’t say. One day you were my friend’s sister, then you were my friend, and then you were…Arya.” He trailed off, tucking her hair behind her ear gently.
Arya stared at him, still processing everything. “This is real, right? I’m not going to wake up suddenly or something?”
“Very real.”
She nodded again, then realized the worry hadn’t quite left his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He started at her question. “What do you mean?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Gendry. What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing, it’s just…ah…well….uh…”
“Spit it out!”
“Well, where do you stand on all this?”
“What?” She asked incredulously.
He ran a hand over his face. “What are you thinking, Arya?”
She tried not to laugh. “Are you saying you’re unsure of how I feel? Because if you are, then what I’m thinking is that you are even stupider than I could have possibly thought.” Her voice caught at the end, and she saw the relief in his eyes before he wrapped his arms around her tightly, lifting her off the ground. Arya clung to him just as hard, wanting to make sure he understood.
After a moment, he set her back down gently, but kept his arms around her waist. She shifted, knowing what she wanted to do but uncertain of how to go about it.
Gendry read her instantly. “What is it?” He asked softly.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she mumbled, looking down.
“What, exactly?”
Her face burned, and she didn’t reply. His hand gently cupped her cheek, turning her face up to his. “Arya, do you want to kiss me?”
“Yes,” she replied instantly, absently noting that his eyes lit up at her answer.
“Then what’s wrong?” She didn’t reply, and he stroked her face gently. “Have you ever been kissed?”
Arya shook her head, embarrassed.
“And you really think that matters to me?”
“I think it matters that a girl knows how to kiss you,” she muttered.
“You’re not just a girl. You’re Arya,” he whispered. “And if I know you at all, you’ll be better at it than everyone in no time.”
That got a small grin out of her.
“Until then, I can help,” Gendry added, and she nodded fervently.
His gaze stayed on hers as he leaned closer, not stopping until their noses brushed. She moved her hands uncertainly up his chest until they were locked around his neck, holding him close. When his lips brushed against the corner of her mouth, her eyes closed. Then she felt the pressure of his mouth on hers, gentle at first, until she pressed back, pushing herself onto her toes.
Gendry’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close against him, while the hand on her face traveled into her hair. He tilted her head, deepening the angle of the kiss, and Arya dizzily realized why people liked this so much. Her hands moved of their own accord, raking through his short hair and making him hum in agreement against her mouth.
The sound of a door slamming made them both jump, and they pulled apart reflexively, though Gendry kept his grip on her hand.
“Sorry, that was just Jon,” Sansa yelled. “You guys alright in there?”
“We’re fine,” Arya called back. Her hand involuntarily came up to trace her mouth where Gendry’s lips had been not a moment before. When he pulled her close again, she went willingly, molding her body against his.
He sucked softly on her lower lip, leaving her legs unsteady, before his mouth covered hers once more. He kissed her slowly, softly, until they were both shaking and had to pull away. Even so, he couldn’t stop placing kisses along her jaw, grinning against her skin when he found a ticklish spot.
Arya sighed, pressing her face into his shirt when she could take no more, and he wrapped his arms around her, content.
“We have to move eventually,” she said quietly. “Sansa cannot see me like this or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Like what? Thoroughly kissed?” Arya could practically hear him grinning as she hit him.
Then another thought struck her and she laughed. “Jon is going to freak out.”
Gendry lifted a shoulder, unconcerned. “It’s his own fault. If he hadn’t gone and opened his big mouth, none of this would have happened.” He grinned cheekily at her. “So really, the blame’s on him.”
Arya couldn’t help but grin. “You’re right. This is entirely Jon’s fault.”