A/N: Hello all, this is just something that came to mind last night as I was contemplating my own Valentine's Day plans and I decided that it was about time for me to write a SanSan one-shot, and why not today? So here it is, slightly inspired by the song Your Song by Elton John and covered by Ellie Goulding. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Happy Valentine's Day!
Disclaimer: The A Song of Ice and Fire universe and everything in it belongs to George R. R. Martin. And that is not my name.
Rating: M for strong language, mentions of physical abuse, and heavy implications of sexual content
"I know it's not much but
It's the best I can do
My gift is my song and
This one's for you"
For once in her life, Sansa Stark was impatient. Very impatient. She paced nervously from one end of the entryway of her family's mansion to the other, wringing her hands, peeking at her watch, stopping beside the mirror on the wall with each stride and fixing her hair for the umpteenth time. He wasn't even late yet. In fact, if he showed up now he would be early. But Sansa couldn't sit still and wait for another minute.
"God, Sansa, just sit down," Arya complained from the adjoining room where she was reclining on the couch with her boyfriend, their foreign-exchange student, Jaqen. "He'll be here when he gets here. No need to seem eager."
Sansa pursed her lips and took the opportunity to reapply her cherry red lipstick before responding to her younger sister's unwanted opinion. "Well I don't want to wait with you. Besides, if I sit down my dress might get wrinkled and I just ironed it."
She could practically hear her sister's eye roll. "By 'just' she means five hours ago, when she put it on to decide which shoes she wanted to wear; a process that took an hour on its own, I might add." Arya directed the comment toward her boyfriend but made sure that her sister could overhear it. Jaqen chuckled. Sansa huffed.
Before she could come up with a suitable retort, the doorbell rang and Sansa all but ran the short distance between herself and the door; as well as she could in five inch heels, anyway. Sandor Clegane was standing rather awkwardly on the porch when she opened the screen door and he gave her a small, somewhat nervous smile.
"Hey, umm...Happy Valentine's Day. I uh..." he pulled one of his hands out from behind his back and offered her a bouquet of ivory tulips. "Got you some flowers. I didn't know what kind you would want, but the guy at the store suggested these and I thought white because..." He swallowed and then finished lamely. "...you are...?"
In the living room, Arya laughed loudly and Sandor scowled, a rare blush creeping up to tint his unburnt cheek an uncharacteristic pink. "Little bitch," he muttered, ignoring the look of chastisement that Sansa shot him as she took the flowers from him and flitted away toward the kitchen.
"Let me put these in some water," she called over her shoulder, shooting a nasty look at Arya as she passed through the living room. The younger Stark stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry in return.
Once the tulips had been trimmed and arranged neatly in a vase on the kitchen table, Sansa hurried back out to find Sandor staring down at the ground with his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his black dress pants. He looked up when he heard her heels clicking on the hardwood floor and offered his arm to lead her outside, an offer she accepted graciously.
"Don't wait up for me!" She yelled back at Arya as they walked outside and she shivered involuntarily as the chill of the winter night cut through the thin fabric of her red lace dress. Sandor glanced over when she trembled and offered his suit jacket without a word.
"Thank you," Sansa said quietly, wrapping herself in the comforting warmth of his jacket before taking the black motorcycle helmet he handed her and strapping it beneath her chin.
"You're welcome," he replied gruffly, climbing on his motorcycle and nudging the kickstand aside as he revved the engine.
The majority of the ride back to his apartment passed in silence, not that they could have heard each other over the sound of the busy Chicago streets as they whizzed by taxis and limos alike, some with couples tucked inside hoping to enjoy the night in semi-privacy. Somewhere nearby a street-corner musician played a sultry tune on an alto saxophone and the sound carried through the air, echoing through the crowded streets and reverberating off the cars stuck in rush-hour traffic.
The wind whipped harshly against their faces as they rode through the city and Sansa closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of freedom that she always felt when she was with Sandor and the distinct musky smell of the man around whose chest her arms were tightly wrapped.
Though it was an awkward and clumsy movement with the bulk of Sandor's helmet on her head, she pressed her lips gently to the back of his neck where a section of slightly scarred flesh was visible above the collar of his starched white dress shirt and whispered against the rough skin beneath her mouth, "I love you, Sandor Clegane."
"Did you say something, little bird?" Sandor's deep rasping voice broke her from her reverie and she pulled away, resting her chin against one of his broad shoulders.
"No, just...talking to myself."
She could hear the smile in his words. "Chirping again are we?"
Although his pet name for her had started as a taunt to mock the courtesy and manners she had coldly directed toward him when she had been dating Joffrey Baratheon, it had become much more and now that she had put her abusive relationship behind her and moved ahead with a better man, she was quite fond of being Sandor's little bird.
Sansa chose not to respond and after turning the corner, Sandor's apartment building rose up to meet them and he steered effortlessly into the entrance to the parking garage, settling his big black motorcycle into its proper place with the ease of an experienced motorist.
After dismounting and smoothing out the skirt of her dress, Sansa handed off her helmet and took Sandor's offered hand. Twining her thin fingers through his own calloused ones, she smiled sweetly up at him and her heart swelled at the crooked grin she got in return.
She knew that Sandor was still adjusting to being the object of her affections and though they had been dating for nearly six months already, he was proceeding slowly in their relationship, cautiously testing the waters so as not to push her farther than she was comfortable. Of course, she had reached the point where his slow pace was beginning to get a bit frustrating, but she was hoping that tonight would change that.
Once in the seclusion of the elevator, Sansa turned toward her boyfriend and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips. He tensed slightly but allowed himself to give her a chaste kiss, pulling away when she tried to deepen it. An expression of hurt and confusion flashed across her pretty features and Sandor avoided her gaze, ashamed of the thoughts that filled his brain.
Of course he wanted her, who wouldn't? She was sweet, beautiful, innocent, and had a body that women would kill for and men would kill to get their hands on. But he knew that if he allowed himself to give into what she meant as curious explorations of the parts of a physical relationship that Joffrey had never shown her he wouldn't be able to hold himself back and he was afraid of what he would do to her given the chance.
The tense silence that had settled over them was broken by an innocuous ding from the elevator and Sandor dug his apartment key from his pocket, keeping his right hand in Sansa's so as not to hurt her feelings any further.
Though it was not her first time in Sandor's apartment, the first time being the night he had brought her there to nurse her back to health after the nearly life-threatening beating Joffrey had delivered after having lost a high stakes poker game to her eldest brother, she still took in her surroundings with a certain amount of awe.
It looked as though Sandor had actually made an effort to pick up before their date, though she could still see a few discarded beer bottles hidden about the living room and a pair of pants shoved unceremoniously beneath the couch. Kicking off his shoes, Sandor padded quietly into the kitchen and opened his freezer, leaving Sansa to stand in the entryway. Closing the front door behind her, she took off her heels and absently trailed after him, placing a hand gently on the small of his back to get his attention.
"May I use your restroom, please?" Sandor grunted noncommittally and waved his hand toward the back of his apartment as more of a reflex than anything. She already knew where it was.
Slightly injured by the wall he had put up around himself after her affections in the elevator, she left him behind to tackle dinner and walked across the thickly carpeted floors toward the restroom. She was nearly there when she hesitated and peeked over her shoulder before quietly opening the door to the room just off to her left.
Leaving the lights off, Sansa peered into the darkness of Sandor's bedroom, smiling slightly at the sight of the familiar mess she associated with her boyfriend. Her eyes were drawn to his unmade bed and unbidden, the thought of him on it, in a rather advanced stage of undress, sprang to the front of her mind and she swiftly shut the door, her face flushing a deep red at the impropriety of her thoughts.
Sandor could hear the bathroom door slam closed at the back of his apartment and he sighed heavily, running a hand across his face in a gesture of weariness and defeat. Hardly an hour together and it seemed he had already managed to push the little bird away.
Yanking open the door to the oven, he shoved a frozen pizza onto the bottom rack and then withdrew his hand, swearing when his finger met the hot metal and flared up with the all-too-familiar pain of being burned.
"Let me help you." The quiet request came from behind him and he turned around to see Sansa standing behind him, her face flushed a lovely shade of red and her hair swept aside to reveal the length of her pale neck. Sandor swallowed and nodded dumbly.
Gently taking his hand in her own, she led him over to the sink and turned on the cold water, running his finger beneath it until the red faded and he pulled it away.
"Better?" Sansa asked, looking up to meet his gaze. "Or would a kiss do it good?" She took his silence as affirmation and pressed her lips to his finger before parting them slightly, just enough to let it slide past and into the wet warmth of her mouth. When she looked up at Sandor from beneath her mascara-enhanced lashes, his eyes were dark and hazy, his expression vacant. Slowly pulling away, she released his finger with a wet pop and then stepped back, a bright blush rising to color her cheeks.
She was about ready to regret her forwardness when Sandor closed the gap between them and wrapped his strong arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Gasping quietly in surprise, Sansa found her lips swiftly claimed by his as he kissed her with all the fervor she had spent the past few months longing for. She clumsily kissed him back, her teeth hitting his when she tried to return the kiss with the same passion he was pouring into it. She pulled back self-consciously when Sandor chuckled and he looked down at her with an unfamiliar expression, moving his hand to cup her jaw as his thumb lightly traced her cheekbone.
"Such an innocent little bird."
Sansa paled slightly and looked away, a sour feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Innocent. Not exactly what a man like Sandor Clegane was looking for in a woman. "Do I...do I not...please you?" She whispered, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn't be able to see her crying when he affirmed her fears.
"Not please me..." Sandor exhaled heavily and she felt one of his large hands tilting her chin up so she was looking into his dark grey eyes. "Fuck, girl, you please me too much. I can't be trusted around a sweet little thing like you."
He bent down and kissed her again, slower this time so she could grow accustomed to the feel of his half-burnt lips parted against her own before his tongue swept lightly across her closed lips in a silent plea for entry. She submitted without hesitation, her knees buckling as he expertly dominated the heady kiss.
Before he could change his mind, Sandor swept Sansa off her feet, her small squeak of surprise shooting straight to his groin as he made long strides toward the back of his apartment. His bedroom door was shoved open with a heavily muscled shoulder and Sansa was thrown not ungently down onto his bed, leaving her stunned and more beautiful than he had ever seen her.
Her legs were splayed from her fall, revealing enough of a glimpse at what she wore beneath her short skirt to make any man hard, her curly auburn hair was tousled messily, and her full red lips were swollen as evidence of the aggressive attention he had paid to them. As he stared down at her, the half-drunken threat he had snarled at her upon their first meeting rose to mind. "I'll have a song from you, little bird, whether you will it or not." Damn him if he didn't still mean it.
She didn't push him away when he climbed on top of her as he half expected her to and her long pale legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, sending his hips crashing against hers in an embarrassing display of a teenage-esque lack of self-control. His brain was too muddled from a lack of blood flow to even think to apologize and when her lips found his again, his lack of concentration made itself known.
"I love you, Sansa."
Before he could think about whether or not he even meant what he had just said, Sansa hummed quietly beside his ear and wrapped her arms around his back, her eyes closing in pleasure. "I love you too, Sandor. And..." her eyes fluttered open again and she met his lust-filled gaze. "I want you. I have for so long, and...this...this is what I wanted to give you, for..." she trailed off for a moment and mewled softly when his lips found the pulse-point below her jaw. "...Valentine's Day..."
"Give me?" Sandor murmured. "I don't understand."
She smiled and met his gaze with eyes long since past the ordinary shade of Tully Blue. "This. Your song."