A/N (Akara): Oh, this was something. Super-duper awesome something.

Working with Perelynn as a co-author turned out to be very productive. While I, seized by sudden inspiration, scribbled furiously describing teen hormons in the action, Perelynn did the research on the sacred process of erection. Her husband was invited as a SME at male physiology, and the three of us, roaring with laughter, worked together on the kissing scene.

The biggest commotion happened around the cock scene. Perelynn and I got enlightened about many new and interesting things.

I was crying and pleading to let me go to bed but the only answer was more intriguing details. I was even promised a hentai movie on the topic. The movie never came though, so I sneaked into my bed while the SMEs got distracted by each other.

In the morning everything started anew. Cocks appeared here and there and never wanted to leave us alone! To make long story short, here it is. The fruit of our endevour. And don't complaint* You asked for it.

And yes, this time I'll write the warning the last chapter managed to avoid.


*A/N (Perelynn): According to the initial plan, the couple was only to hold hands. Ha. Ha. Ha. The readers on the Russian forum would have none of it. They wanted the hawtness. So we provided.

Sandor did the laundry yesterday evening, and was now looking for the iron board in the room his mother used to live in, to iron his jeans and T-shirt. Finally, the tools were found, the dust brushed off them; he set at the task. He didn't do a good job at first. He never did ironing before.

When he was almost ready, and approached the mirror to brush his hair on the burned side of his face, he remembered he forgot to wash it. The clothes flew on the bed, and Sandor darted into the bathroom.

His hands were shaking. He dropped the shampoo bottle several times before he managed to squeeze enough liquid out of it.

He has a date! Bloody hell!

Sandor never went to a date and didn't think he ever would. He never thought about girls this way, as dates. Well, he did, of course, sometimes, but who would want to date him?

In his dreams he pictured himself getting older, making some money, going to the neighbour town Essos and buying himself a whore. That was the way the cool dudes did it in movies. Once he heard Greg saying there was a brothel in Essos called 'Braavos', where they would make your wildest dreams come true, as long as you pay enough. Greg is a bloody bastard, but he does know more about some things than Sandor.

Somehow now this idea didn't seem as great anymore. It looked stupid and disgusting. Now, when he had a date with Sansa...

If it were not for Stannis... He always thought Stannis a complete moron. Everyone did. But Mister Baratheon talked to Sandor the way his own father never did, and persuaded him it's okay for him to ask Sansa out. Well, it's not like Sandor never pictured himself in Joffrey's place. He did, countless times. But he always believed that impossible. He was sure his greatest hope was to hang around her, taking the role of the watchdog he was for Joffrey.

Sandor got out of the shower, dried himself with a towel, struggled back into his clothes which were clinging to the damp skin, seized a brush, ran to the mirror... and realized it was now even worse than before. The wet hair stuck to the head and wouldn't cover the burns. Sandor growled and rubbed the hair with the towel vehemently. Finally he tidied it up, but the thin wet strands still tended to stick together, revealing more of his ugly face.

In the end Sandor gave up. It's not like he can make himself look handsome, whatever he does. He stuffed some money and cigarettes into his pockets and left the house.

He hit the upper floor of the 'King's Landing' at ten to three, and their date was to start at 3:30 PM. To kill time Sandor went for a smoke, read every bloody sign in sight, and looked through all the posters for what was on. When Sansa didn't show up at 3:30 PM, and was still absent after two more minutes, he started getting nervous.

What if she doesn't come? He went cold at the thought. By the time two more minutes went by he already was bloody sure the girl said yes just to be polite, or because she didn't find a nerve to say no. And now she won't come! Greg told him she would never look at Sandor if he weren't a knight. And now he's not a bloody knight anymore! Sansa lost her interest in him.

He was pacing along the cash register, getting more and more angry. Angry at himself for believing the girl really agreed to come for a date. Mad at that moron Stannis for making him believe she would. Furious at the red woman, Melisandre, for telling him he should take the girl to movies for the first date.


Somebody pulled at his sleeve. He turned sharply, intending to punch the bastard in the face.

But it was Sansa. She was here...

She was here!

'Where have you been? What took you so long?' Sandor would gladly say something else but that was the only thing he could think about at the moment.

'I... I'm only ten minutes late,' Sansa chirped. 'And girls are supposed to be late for fifteen!'

'What a dumbass I am!' Sandor thought. Why didn't the red woman warn him girls were supposed to be late?

And Sansa looked so pretty...

Afraid of doing something stupid, Sandor grabbed her hand quickly and led the way to the cash register. Melisandre said the movie shouldn't be too scary, so Sandor looked up what was on the night before. He also looked through the teasers and the pirate versions of the movies that were already on the net. Of course he would never take Sansa to 'The X-files'. If she winced with fear even at the sight of the bad guys in Disney movies...

Tonight she wore a dress that was clinging to her body. The girl had tons of outfits; sometimes it seemed to him she wore something new every bloody day. But this dress made Sansa look different than usual. Especially in the chest. If she ever wore anything like this to school, and Dontos dared to look her at the cleavage, or whatever it was called, Sandor would kill him on the spot.

'Um... so, is it 'Hellboy', then?' Sansa asked, and Sandor had to take his eyes off the hollow between her little round teats. He managed it with some difficulty.

'Uh-huh. Hellboy is cool,' he muttered, and slipped his hand into the pocket of his jeans to fish out the money... and to shift his hardened cock sneakily to make it more comfortable.

Sandor didn't not know how Sansa would react to the tickets in the back row. But the red woman said it added to romantics. The girl didn't seem to mind, so it must have been fine.

When they occupied the loveseat, Sandor realized he didn't have the faintest idea of what to do next. Melisandre didn't say anything about this, and it didn't occur to him to ask her. Bloody idiot. But then, he never thought this far.

Can I touch her now? he wondered. Or should they just watch the movie? Still not bad, he supposed.

Yes, it's better not to touch her. What if he scares her?

But he wants to touch her so badly. Damn it! What to do?

Wait a sec. This is a bloody date, right? This means he can touch her! He saw such things in movies!

What if she pushes him away? She surely will. The second time he won't get as lucky as he was the last time, back at his place.

No, he'd better not touch her.

Unbidden, the images invaded his head. Sansa on his bed, he bends to kiss her, and she is so sweet, and she doesn't resist at all, and he is on top of her...

The girl squealed and closed her eyes shut. Here you go. Even now she managed to get frightened. And nothing scary has even happened yet!

Sandor decided this was the ideal chance to put his hands around her.

So sweet. Sansa is always so sweet! It always feels like current through his body when she's so close!

When she saw the tooth fairies the girl got scared even more. Silly little thing. They are so funny! The way they eat through people is hilarious.

On the other hand... Sansa snuggled up to him so tightly he was glad at her fright. He could touch her, hold her with both hands.

So pretty. So vulnerable.

He didn't know when he started whispering to her ear. Just some trifles like the ones he used to say to his little sister when she had nightmares after their mother's death.

'It's okay, it's okay, it's over,' Sandor whispered to Sansa's ear. Her hair smelled great. So sweet. So... alluring.

It was driving him crazy.

Unable to pull away, Sandor buried his nose into Sansa's hair. And then the girl tilted her head a little bit, and her neck was suddenly so dangerously close. He inhaled deeply. The smell of her skin was stunning.

His lips pressed to her on their own accord, and it was so sweet that Sandor squeezed the girl tightly and shivered.

Yes. Hold her. Never let her go.

Sansa's palm moved along his arm, from the wrist up. A wave of heat went through him, followed by more shivers. His muscles went numb for a second.

Her every touch burned him; but this one rendered him wild. He only felt like this during matches, when the air left his lungs in laborious gasps, blood plummeted in his temples, and his body lived it's own separate life, led by instincts.

He almost lost touch with reality. The only thing he cared about now was the her smell and his lips on her skin.

He felt his ruined cheek to rub against her soft one. Damn!

For a moment, he recoiled. No. He won't let his burns stand between him and Sansa.

He turned the girl's face to the other side and attacked her skin again with his lips.

So sweet! So impossible!

And she is not resisting! Not resisting at all! She's his, and his alone! At least for now.

'You're so pretty,' Sandor breathed out, much to his own surprise. He always thought her pretty, but it was an idiotic thing to say out loud. There are no words to describe her.

Baffled, he touched her ear with his lips and tongue, as if it could change the words he just said.

Sansa's fingers squeezed his shoulder. It blinded him, almost the same way as it did when she was in his bed, so attractive, so close...

He touched her soft cheek with his hand, turned her towards him and covered her sweet little mouth with his lips. It was just like back then, in his room. It was just like the countless times before and after, in his dreams.

She didn't resist. She didn't!

Sandor pressed himself to her lips, again, and again, and again. He felt dizzy. He was short of breath. He was shivering like in fever.

He was getting more and more aroused. He already recognized the sensation that seized him. The felt the same when watching porn with Joff, or looking at the pics in magazines. When dreaming of Sansa the following night and waking up hard as stone or even worse.

He felt her arms around his neck and lost track of reality. She is sweet, sweet, sweet... and his. All his.

Sansa's hands found their way to the nape of his neck. When Sandor leaned to kiss her again, she held him firmly and pressed her lips to his.

Sandor groaned as the new wave of excitement rushed through his body. It was even more arousing than everything he'd done with her so far. He wanted to do it again and again.

Sansa's body was all so... tempting. He wanted to explore it. All of it. At once. Suddenly two hands were not enough, and his thoughts were a tight tangle, and he couldn't choose where to start, where to linger.

Sandor was already picturing how he would lower her down on the loveseat and get on top of her. In his dreams she wore no clothes, and he was touching her everywhere: her teats, her belly, between her legs. The girls in porn movies always moaned when touched there.

Then he felt her tongue on his lips. It was... he had no words for it.

Sandor growled and pulled Sansa on his lap. She was so close! So close!

He wanted to explore her body further, so he left her lips and attacked her neck, moving lower and lower. He pulled the dress roughly off her shoulder, revealing more of the fragrant skin. He could feel Sansa's fingers in his hair, her lips at the back of his head.

He was having hard time sitting straight. His cock was hard and throbbing, his jeans too tight. Sandor fidgeted, grabbed the girl by the thigh and pulled her closer. There was a moment of relief, but the next second he wanted to do it again, and press against her even tighter.

His lips levelled with her teats, so supple, so round. He stopped for a moment to pull away the dress and bury his face into her cleavage.

He heard Sansa peep something. He didn't pay any mind.

But the girl's palms were now against his shoulders, hindering him. Sandor wanted to pull her closer, to push the annoying obstacle away.

'Sandor, what do you think you're doing?' she exclaimed, and then slipped away from his lap swiftly before he could stop her.

'What the hell?' he thought and made a move to pull the girl back and get back to what they were doing.

There was a sudden sting at his good cheek. It took him a moment to understand the girl had slapped him.

What the bloody hell is this, he wanted to ask her.

'Sansa...', he managed.

'Don't you dare do it again!' The girl was frowning, her blue eyes narrowed in fury. She sat away from him and folded her arms.

What's the matter? What's wrong? Everything was fine, and she liked it!

Or maybe she didn't? Didn't like what he did with her? Didn't like him? Why did she let him do it then?

His head was heavy like after the sixpack of beer. It felt like it was ready to burst.

She didn't like it. He's an idiot! Bloody stupid dumbass!

He had one chance of a thousand when Sansa agreed to go for a movie with him, and he ruined everything!

Now she won't let him to touch her again! She'll never let him near!

Sandor wanted to hit his head against the wall. He jumped on his feet instead.

'Where are you going?' Sansa asked.

'Be right back,' he muttered and darted away from her.

Sandor stormed out of the auditorium, looked around for the WC sign, headed towards the washrom, flew into the booth, and unzipped his jeans with his trembling fingers.

In a couple of minutes he reappeared, leaned against the sink, looked up at his reflection and had an irrestistable urge to punch himself in the face. This disgusting ugly face!

Sansa... so pretty. She's like from another world. Another reality. By the wildest stroke of luck she let him near... And he... he...

A beast. A filthy dim-witted beast! With a cock for brains!

Sandor fished a box of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pockets of his jeans. His eyes wandered towards the «No Smoking» sign. Bugger that! Bugger the bloody rules!

In two steps he was at the window. He turned the handle. The plastic frame was designed in such a way it never opened fully, but the small gap was enough. Sandor lit the cigarette and took a puff. He turned towards cigarettes more and more often since he quit the team. He knew smoking was cool. Before, however, as soon as he had a smoke his breath was heavier the next practice, and his heart beating differently, in an unpleasant way. But he's not a football player anymore. Not a knight. He is free to smoke if he wants to. He is free to do a lot of things.

But not the thing you just did, you stupid dumbass. Use your common sense!The red woman told him girls were to be courted, treated with flowers and pretty words. Instead of this he... fuck.

Sandor gave a wall a kick with all this strength, leaving a black print of the sneaker sole on the tiles.

What is he supposed to do now? Sansa let him near... sweet, fragrant, impossible Sansa. She won't do it again.

Such girls are not meant for the likes of him. Fair enough. What can he offer her apart from his bawdy fantasies? Sansa is so... so like a princess from a movie. And she needs someone along those lines. Prince charming, not the beast like Sandor.

The only thing was that his life was unbearable without her. Unbearable, dreary and hopeless. Full of cruelty and misery.

When Joff decided it was time to have a girlfriend, his choice was not only a pretty one, but the one matching his status, the daughter of the deputy major, his dad's friend's kid. That was the first time when Sandor found out such girls exist at all. She was so... unreal.

Sansa was always polite to Sandor. She managed to find kind words even for him. And she loved Disney movies and books about love and really believed this bloody life to be a fairytale.

Silly, silly girl! But so pretty!

A million times Sandor wanted to give that idiot Joff a smack in the face for hurting her or making her cry. He used to tell himself he'd never hurt her if she were his.

And what now? She was his tonight, and he behaved like a monster. Even the slimy bugger Joff never stooped that low!

Sandor finished the cigarette and threw the fag into the window.

He walked back into the auditorium with his knees wobbling. If Sansa is still here, if she doesn't push him away, he won't dare touch her again. He'll do everything she says to stay with her.

The girl was still there. Sandor let out a sigh of relief.

'You smoke?' she asked.

Of course. How much stupider can he be? He must be reeking of tobacco. Sansa is so goody-goody, she'll never tolerate a smoker.

'Sometimes,' he grumbled, just to say something.

That's it. He ruined everything.

He would gladly run out of the auditorium again, to never come back this time. But this would be the most idiotic thing in the world. And the red woman said that whatever happened he should see the girl home or at least call her a cab.

Ok. He spoiled everything he could, but he'll do whatever it takes to make the rest of the date pleasant for her. Sansa deserves this, after all.

The girl chose this moment to offer him a chewing gum.

'What's this?' he rasped wearily.

'You don't smell very nice.'

Ha! Still polite, even now! Why does she always have to be so bloody courteous? Why cannot she say directly: you're a freak and you disgust me?

Sandor took the gum and threw it at his mouth absent-mindedly. If she wants him to chew a gum, he'll do it. He'll do whatever she says to make her happy and to stay with her for a little longer.

'You can hold me,' she said, and Sandor choked on his gum. First he even thought he didn't get her words correctly, but then he realized it was indeed what she said.

He extended his hand and put it around Sansa's shoulder cautiously.

Does it mean he is forgiven? Yes? Or no?

No matter. She asks, he does. Whatever it is.

Hellboy was a cool guy, Sandor always liked the sort. He liked to think they had something in common. There was a moment when Hellboy said, standing at the bed and watching Liz sleep: 'Look at her. She's it, Abe. She's it. She's my whole wide... You know? I would give my life for her.' Sandor knew he wanted to tell Sansa the same. Only he'd never dare.

When they went outside, everything that had happened in the movie theater seemed a dream, both good and bad. Sandor was very surprised when Sansa agreed to go home by public transport. Once in the bus, they went to the further back and stood at the window, holding the handrails. The girl chirped about literature classes, about the teacher Mister Varys Spider who apparently was so very smart, about some masterpieces they recently discussed. Sandor didn't understand a thing, so he just nodded and pretended to be listening carefully. Once in a while he even tried to concentrate on her words, but his attention got invariably switched to the images that occupied his brain at the moment that had nothing to do with literature and everything to do with their recent kisses in the movie theater.

Also his eyes kept returning to her cleavage, and he was tall enough for the view to be truly magnificent. Sometimes he felt dizzy and had to struggle with the desire to seize her and press her against the handrails.

He swore to himself he won't touch her again. He swore, damn it!

So, he took a deep breath and by some miracle got a grip on himself.

Two drunkards were staring at them, talking.

'Look! What a monster,' one was saying to another.

'Uh-huh. Makes me sick. The chick is okay though,' the other answered.

'Pretty,' the first one agreed. 'What the hell is she doing next to this freak?'

'That's it, bastards. You're in trouble,' he thought. Sandor was already turning towards them, picturing how he'd stuff their beer cans into their mouths along with their filthy words. Tonight was bloody ruined anyway, and if these morons think they can get away with it, they...

Sansa grabbed Sandor's by the hand and pressed herself against his chest. His body reacted immediately, as it always did when she touched him, or sometimes even when she was just standing nearby.

'Sandor, don't,' she pleaded.

It was a moot point anyway. He couldn't move, he couldn't do anything, even if for some reason he decided to disobey her request. He could only hold her, afraid of this moment to end.

They were walking down the dark streets between rich houses. Sandor knew he'd never live such a house. Sansa did, though. This made the situation even more unreal.

She was asking about horror movies. He was saying something in reply. He couldn't talk as nice and clear as she did. He had to hold his tongue around her, to stop himself from adding some obscenities to his words. He didn't always manage that, and even when he did his replies went out crumbled and crippled. She must think him dumb as hell.

She was still polite with him though. As always. As if nothing has happened in the movie theater. What a pretty little thing she is.

Perhaps she'll let him touch her again and kiss her? Just one kiss, no more! He wants her to know he can control himself.

Only he needs to warn her, otherwise she'd get scared again. He needs to explain he won't let the hell break loose like he did in the movie theater.

But how?

'Thank you for the evening,' Sansa said when they approached the gates of the Stark mansion.

'Right,' Sandor muttered. He was searching for words hectically. If he loses the moment, that will be the end of it. 'Sansa... you, um... I mean, in the theater, when we... when I... I mean, I just totally lose it around you!'

The girl blinked in surprise. Did she get it or no?

'Um, all right,' she said. 'See you later!'

Is it yes or no? What is he allowed to do now?

Sansa wasn't giving any hints.

To hell with it all!

Sandor gathered his courage, stooped and kissed her in the lips. Lightly. He didn't want to lose control again and do something stupid.

'Bye,' he said and walked towards the bus stop, but lasted no more than a couple of steps. Then he turned to look at Sansa again, and waved his hand at her.

She waved back. And she was smiling. Smiling! Does it mean she liked it?

By the time Sandor got home his opinion on what happened tonight switched towards 'bloody awesome'. He promised himself he'd never do anything like this to Sansa again, but the mere memory of the kisses in the movie theater made him hard as steel.

There was a mutter of TV in the living room. Father was sleeping on the sofa, drunk, an empty beer can at his hand. Five more were scattered on the floor. Little sister sat in the armchair, her legs tucked under her, and watched TV. Apparently Greg wasn't home, otherwise she'd hidden in her room. Sandor took a peek at the screen, making sure it was some old sitcom safe for the little one to watch, and went to his room.

He closed the door, turned the key (he always locked the door from inside and taught his little sister to do the same) and leapt on the bed. On this bed he kissed Sansa for the first time. On this bed he dreamt about her so many times.

The images whirled in his head, both of today's kisses and the events that never happened in real life...

Half an hour later Sandor came to his senses, went to the bathroom and washed his hands. He didn't want to change his clothes though. They smelled of Sansa.

He dag his laptop out of the wrappers, finding some missed candies in the process and fixing this at once. Facebook showed Sansa was online.

'Hi,' he wrote.

There was no reply. Sandor waited for five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

Sansa always replied very quickly. And now, silence. So, she didn't forgive him? She was polite to the very end, and now she will just pretend they don't know each other?

Sandor collapsed on the bed, punched the wall and hissed in pain. What is he to do now? He is a bloody fool!

It took him a moment to realize he heard a sound of incoming message.


'Hi again,' she wrote.

'I thought you wouldn't reply,' Sandor confessed.

'I was busy and didn't see your message.'

Right. It happened to him, too. Why didn't he think of that?

'I see,' he replied. He turned the words in his head, trying to pick the best way to convey his feelings. 'I just wanted to tell you tonight was bloody awesome!'

And then he just typed the thought that was nudging him all this while.

'How about doing it again at some point?'

He pressed 'Send.'

Only then it hit him. What did he just do? She'll decide he's talking about touching her again!

He wanted to grab the laptop and throw it against the wall. But at this moment Sansa replied.


The window of Sandor's room overlooked the brick wall of the neighbour house. Never before he appreciated just how beautiful that view really was.