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We're All Going to Die	By : pip Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 12196 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones and I make no money from this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter Five

“Well, let's seal the agreement, shall we?” Clegane suggested, gathering her close, relishing the feel of her in his arms all over again. Perhaps he would never get used to it. That thought made him ridiculously happy. Perhaps he wouldn't have time to get used to it. That thought brought him crashing back down to reality, but he was well used to that.

He kept the kiss deliberately light, the same as all of their others, giving her the chance to participate. She was growing accustomed to them even if he wasn't. He could sense her growing confidence by the eager way she kissed him back. Her eyes closed in trust and he could feel her fingertips in his hair, on his scalp. Internally, he cursed his scar and his brother for denying him sensation on the one side of his head. He pulled back a little.

“Sandor,” she said, then smiled as she opened her eyes. It was a strange, perfect moment, but there were two of them here, and he relinquished his hold to give Tormund his turn. And himself a chance to watch. Strange how this time he didn't feel the need to look away.

The wildling pulled her to him, and her body was suddenly less pliant, less trusting. She wasn't the same Brienne she had been up on the hill – not yet. And not when Tormund kissed her like that, so full on. Clegane could see his tongue delving deep, hear the surprised sound of shock and protest she made. He almost cringed. Then he gasped when he felt her hand take hold of his, squeezing.

She tried to move away, and he caught the look of panic in her open eyes, so he squeezed her hand back in reassurance. It's all right, he thought, wondering just how they really were going to go about this. And then he knew. Straight talking. No surprises. No nonsense. She really was amazing.

Tormund finished off and rumbled a little satisfied sound, licking his lips, and Brienne frowned at him.

“I still don't entirely trust you, and I didn't like that,” she said pointedly, moving away, back into Clegane's arms. Tormund's eyes widened in surprise, and Clegane laughed. He was having ideas, and since those ideas involved enjoying himself immensely, he decided to go with them.

“If you're going to kiss the boys, you may as well do it properly,” he told her, and her face fell a little. He took hold of her chin in his fingers. “There are different kinds of kisses. What I've done with you.” He demonstrated briefly, seeing her eyes flutter closed. “And what he just did.” Clegane demonstrated again, with much less intensity than Tormund, again briefly. She tasted wonderful, and he remembered that she was not just a woman, she was a Lady. She kept her teeth clean. She drank water with her meals, for fuck's sake. He felt some sympathy for Tormund then, getting a first taste of that.

“You can do it back to me,” he suggested. “Want to try?”

Brienne nodded slowly, and pulled him down for another kiss. This time he remained completely passive, letting her direct, letting her explore him, letting her decide everything. And when she seemed confident enough, he joined in, playful. It lasted all of about five seconds before playful became passionate. Not a nice passionate. Not a hearts-and-flowers-and-pretty-things passionate. Not even a I-want-to-fuck-you passionate. This was a fuck-the-war-and-fuck-the-dead-we-have-each-other passionate and they broke apart for breath a minute or so later. He'd ended up on top of her, his lower body cradled perfecly in her pelvis, her legs open to either side of him. They were still fully dressed, but his body didn't seem to notice the distinction at all. He was ready for her. Her eyes were a darker blue again, her lips reddened and shiny wet from their experiment. He'd thought her beautiful once or twice before this, but now..? He'd never thought of her as Sansa Stark beautiful. He'd been utterly wrong. She surpassed Sansa by about a million fucking leagues.

“Now,” he said, stunned, before he could forget about everything but fucking her for the rest of his short life. “Try it again with him.” He'd temporarily forgotten the wildling's name. And he literally had to force himself to move aside, but he managed it, somehow, limbs shaking. That's how this was going to work, after all. If it was going to work at all. Clegane wasn't sure of anything any more, even his promise. Luckily, that at least came back to him a moment or two later, along with the name Tormund.

Nobody was doing anything. The wildling was staring at him, slightly open-mouthed, as if he'd just seen exactly what had happened between them. But he couldn't have seen it, couldn't have seen the moment that thunderbolt struck him clean in the heart. Clegane managed to nod. “Slowly,” he advised, tilting his head to Brienne.

It was slow this time, and he watched the same as the wildling had watched. Watched her kiss someone else. Watched her mean it, because she did. Her upper body rose up towards him from the bed, her arms twined around his shoulders. He could see her tongue moving, could see her eyes closed this time as she gave herself to him.

Then she moaned.

He wasn't sure if he growled. Something on the back of his neck seemed to rise. Perhaps they couldn't share, after all. Tormund was rolling them over, on top of her now, and she didn't stop him. He broke the kiss and looked down at her for a long moment before looking to Clegane helplessly.

“How the fucking Hell did you stop yourself?” he asked. And the strange dangerous mood was broken suddenly, like an elastic had snapped, all the tension gone. He didn't know how to answer. How did he stop?

A sudden sharp crack echoed through the room as Brienne slapped Tormund across the face, and he rubbed his cheek. “Ow! Woman!”

He was probably lucky that she was just as addled as they were, since the slap was a kind of tired reaction, rather than deliberate. If Brienne had been deliberate, it would have been a punch, and quite possibly a broken nose. But Tormund did give her the space back, and they lay looking up at the ceiling for a minute or so, each of them with their own thoughts.

“What the fuck just happened to us?” Clegane wondered out loud.

“This. I seen this before,” said Tormund sagely, nodding. Clegane raised his head as the wilding sat up, arms draped over his knees as he sat staring at the opposite wall, thinking. “I felt it.” He switched his gaze to Clegane. “You?”

“What the fuck do you think? I just nearly...” He heaved a great sigh, disgusted, and sat up himself, looking down on Brienne. He didn't finish his thought out loud. He didn't need to.

“Did you feel it?” Tormund queried of her.

“If it isn't always like that. Then, yes. With both of you.” It was impossible to tell if she was pleased about it or not. “What does it mean?”

Tormund shrugged. “It is rare. A kind of bond. Never seen it happen with three. When it happens, a new clan will form around the bond that is made.” He brightened. “I suppose we are a little clan now.”

Clegane groaned. “Fucking wildlings. Just tell me one thing,” he said, biting his lip, thinking it through. “Is this shit going to happen every time we do anything? Because promises have been made, and I swear I can't...” He looked at her, and she was still there, the same Brienne but not, still so... “I mean, Brienne, I fucking can't.” He buried his face in his hands, only to have her peel those hands away. Gods, but she was impossible now.

“It happens once,” Tormund said, shrugging. “We should be fine now.”

Clegane would love to believe it, but he couldn't. She was staring into his eyes, holding onto his hands, and so he did it. Because for him the only proof was to know. He kissed her as if his life depended on the knowing. And she kissed him back, still awfully inexperienced and a little clumsy. Not perfect. Unsure. She tasted the same. He broke the kiss, and he hadn't lost control this time, despite the fact that she looked tastier than a chicken after a week long fast. Promises could be kept.

“All right,” he said decisively. “We are a little clan, if you like. Let's fucking do this then. First, I'm going to need some of that wine, because everything still hurts. And Brienne? Don't be afraid, because it's his turn next.” He jerked his head at Tormund. “So he'll be getting undressed first, and then you'll get to play with him and ask lots of questions. You can do as little or as much as you like. How does that sound?”

It was a gamble, how he'd put it to her, but he saw her respond just how he'd hoped she would. Her face cleared, and she nodded. Hearing it put so succinctly helped her. Knowing what was to come, it eased her. “Yes. I think that is what I would like,” she said, though she also gave him a lingering look, and Clegane felt a little warmed by it.

Tormund had no problem at all with the suggestion, and jumped up from the bed, already peeling off his layers and throwing them to the floor as Brienne watched, wide-eyed, sitting cross-legged on the bed. As Clegane poured some wine for them all, it occurred to him that Brienne might never have seen a naked man unless it be a corpse on a battlefield. Hell of a way to learn anatomy.

Well, fuck.

Tormund was naked. Like Clegane himself, that little bonding encounter had left him with a hard on, and like Clegane, it was still very much evident. Tormund was also almost exactly the same size as himself. No wonder he was so proud of himself. Sure, they'd wanked off together the other night, but it wasn't as if he'd actually looked or anything. Until now. Clegane stole a quick look at Brienne to see how she was taking it. She must have seen one before, right?

Her mouth had dropped open slightly, and her eyes were somehow even wider.

“Can't look away. Ah!” Tormund grinned and nodded, hands on his hips. Neither could Clegane.

“Ginger all the fucking way down,” he taunted after a moment or two.

“You going to join me? Or you afraid?”

“Only of overwhelming our comrade here.” He earned himself a smile from Brienne for his use of the term, and mentally scored himself some points.

“I'd like to,” she said to Clegane, her cheeks beginning to burn a little. She bit her lip sternly, as if she was trying to tell her own face off for betraying her nervousness. “See, that is.”

Clegane swallowed and put down his cup, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. What did he care? She must have seen him already when they'd brought him back here? Hadn't she? Admittedly, he'd been a bit softer and a bit more fucking unconscious back then.

Since he knew he had nothing to fear from being compared to the wildling, as he undressed he moved to stand beside Tormund at the foot of the bed, so as to make a display for her. When he was naked he stood proud too, all of the scars and bruises she'd seen, and the cock she'd touched before, through his clothes. He and Tormund looked at each other. Tormund looked down.

“Ahh...” Tormund said happily, then looked him in the face again. Brienne sighed.

“You are much bigger than most other men?” she asked, uncertain.

“Yes,” they said, in unison.

“Oh...” She seemed hesitant to get too close, sliding feet first towards the foot of the bed, inch by inch. “And, it's your turn,” she said to Tormund, having to look up at him.

He nodded, but stayed in his place, letting her come to him. She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, nervous as all hell and trying not to show it. Clegane gave marks to her for courage. She licked her lips in a tell, but her mouth was closer to his dick than anything else, and he saw Tormund's cock give an eager little leap that he couldn't help.

“Why did it do that?” Brienne asked sharply, suspicious.

Tormund gave out a helpless little rumble of sound. “It likes you.”

She reached out a hand, then let it drop. Looked up to him for fucking guidance, of all things! Clegane sighed inwardly. He was doomed. “Tormund. Get on the bed, for fuck's sake.”

He fell into a crouch in front of her, which relieved her anxiety somewhat, going by the way her shoulders relaxed. “You want to touch him?” he asked, and she nodded silently, a little miserable at her failure to do just that. “Want me to show you how?” Now she smiled.

“Would you?”

“Said I would, didn't I?”

He'd also threatened Tormund with this very thing the other day, so it shouldn't come as such a huge shock to him. The wildling had laid himself out on his back in the middle of the bed. Clegane glanced up. “All right,” he nodded up the bed. “You take that side. I'll take the other.”

So they ended up with Tormund between them like dinner or something. Brienne stared at him. “I'm not afraid,” she said. Clegane grinned.

“Of course not,” he agreed amiably. He looked Tormund up and down as a warning to the wildling. “You want to touch him anywhere else, or are you interested in this first?” And he laid a hand flat over Tormund's cock. It was hot and straining. Much like his own. Clegane sighed inwardly. His balls were gonna be blue as the northen mountains after this.

“I want to touch him there,” she said eventually. Clegane nodded.

“Right. Well, he had a bath yesterday, but not today. So get us a cloth and I'll clean him. He's been fighting since. Pissing. And wanking.” Brienne's eyes widened, but she did as he asked, and he made sure to clean Tormund as best he could over the wildling's beligerent protests that there was nothing unclean about him.

Actually, if he was being honest, this was all about looking good in front of her, and annoying Tormund. Hell, he'd gone weeks without a bath before this and thought nothing of it. Months, even, when he'd been dragging Arya Stark around the country, looking for somewhere to drop her off.

The impromptu bathing hadn't made the erection subside at all, and at last he held Tormund in a firm grip as a demonstration, most of his palm hidden behind so that Brienne could see properly. And she was watching, rapt, so curious he was surprised her eyes didn't fall right out of her head. He tightened his fingers in a slight squeeze, and was answered with a warning growl from the wildling. Clegane looked up, and smiled without humour.

“You just fucking let me know if you're going to lose it,” he said, taunting, because he knew there wasn't a chance of that. Tormund was hard as rock in his hand. His eyes were wild and staring, as wide as hers, half sat up now on the bed. Suddenly a hand shot out and Clegane felt strong fingers wrapped around his neck, not quite serious.

“We going to fight over your cock, is that it?” Clegane asked plainly. “While she watches?” Clearly, Tormund had been put beyond the use of language, because he shook his head in something that could have been denial, agreement, or both. “Or are you going to let me show her, and hand you over?” Really – he should be fucking grateful! The only reason he was prepared to go through with this was because he knew she'd touch him soon, in the same way. She'd explore him, the way she was going to explore Tormund. This. This was like a practice run for her.

Slowly, the fingers around his neck loosened, then dropped away. Clegane returned his attention to the job at hand: the wildling's cock, nestled in a bushy growth of auburn pubic hair. “Besides,” he said, in an extra aside to Tormund, “I told you before. I don't like gingers.”

“Oh, but you can't help liking me,” came the gruff, annoying answer, and Clegane smiled. Because he knew it would irritate Tormund to holy hell, he kept his hand in place while he turned his body, so that they were face-to-face.

“Aye. I like you well enough,” he said, “for a ginger.” And he gave the wildling a rough and violent kiss. Their teeth clashed in a chink he could feel and hear, and he never meant for it to be anything else but a taunt and yet he felt Tormund's large, strong hand on the back of his neck, holding him still. All of the tension was back all at once, as the kiss deepened into something real, something that wasn't anything at all like what he'd shared with Brienne. This was entirely masculine and hard. They were the same. They were brothers. That was his hand on Tormund's cock, and he squeezed and it was right. He tasted of wildling, of that disgusting stuff they drank and of winter and cold and of finding warmth in the endless dark. Of life.

Clegane wanted. He didn't even know what, but he wanted, and he expressed it in the kiss until Tormund wrenched his face away and hissed in his ear: “You'll make me come!” and he realised he'd been tugging and squeezing all the while, working on that hardness just as if it were his own. Clegane stilled his hand and caught his breath just in time, let go, stared down as Tormund turned his head back to look into his eyes. And he knew somehow that something had changed. They would die for each other now. They would die for each other before – they had bloody planned to, they'd planned to fight together, but this...?

“Us,” Tormund said, something unfathomable in his eyes. “All of us.”

A little clan. So be it. Clegane relaxed marginally. This made things better, really, easier. But then Tormund shivered.

“What does it want with us?”

The Lord of Light, and suddenly Clegane felt unreasonably angry that it should interfere in his life in this way. That it should take what he wanted and just give it to him, instead of allowing him to actually earn it. Brienne. It wasn't fucking fair, and he wasn't going to give it the credit. He'd won her, from herself, with pain and sweat and blood out there on the hill. This shit did not matter. He wouldn't let it.

“I don't fucking know. I don't fucking care. I just care what we want, and what we want with each other,” he said. Tormund nodded.

“I agree.”

“You too,” Brienne said, having watched them. “We are three now. And I agree as well. I hate the Lord of Light. You have no idea. What I've seen. Whatever it wants, it's not getting it from us.”

All at once, he admitted to himself that he loved her, and straight away, that he'd never loved her more than in that moment.

To be continued...

Author's Note: Ok, well, thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying it. More smut to follow soon. Hopefully without any of the Gods stepping in and getting in the way. I was quite surprised by the turn of events, but it makes sense considering how the plot has been shaping up in my head lately. Anyway, let me know what you think. Is there anyone out there? Review replies (if there are any to be given) will be found here: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/topic/61848-pippychicks-review-replies-tv/
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We're All Going to Die