One Last Laugh

There's a Spider on Ya

Jon Snow couldn't possibly be more stressed. He knew they were severely unprepared for what was to come. They didn't have nearly enough men or weapons to defeat the nightwalkers, and he could sense the weight hanging on everyone's shoulders. The look in their eyes told him all he needed to know: every one of them was expecting to die. They'd look at their friends, not knowing which of them would go first. He would catch Sansa staring at him as though he were already gone.

He paced along the wall, grateful to be home, yet unable to truly appreciate the comfort. His mind was a swirling blizzard, clouding out all other thoughts until a voice spoke up from behind, rescuing him from his dark thoughts.

"There's a spider on ya."

Jon rolled his eyes at Tormund's failed attempt to scare him. He humored him and looked down at his clothes.

"Where? I don't see it."

He really didn't like the smile on his face...

"Right here!" Tormund yelled, suddenly reaching up to spider his fingers on the back of his neck. Jon made a strangled sound and whipped around to face him, staring at him with a bewildered expression and a spreading blush.

"The hell was that for?" he growled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"There was a spider, I'm tellin' ya!" he insisted with a playful smirk. "There it is!" he pointed before diving in to scribble against his side. He jerked away with a choked off laugh, leveling him with a harsh stare. Jon was thankful for the thick layers, but even that offered little protection.

"Fuckin' stop!" he snapped, snatching the offending hand by the wrist. He immediately regretted taking his anger out on him and let go, looking away. Tormund was different. He was crass, playful, and extremely bold, but above all else, he wanted to be entertained. He didn't hold it against him, but he had to admit it could grate on the nerves. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply through his nose in an effort to calm down. "Sorry, didn't mean to yell."

Tormund was grinning from ear to ear. "I fuckin' knew it," he said breathlessly before barking out a hearty laugh. "I knew it! You're ticklish!"

"I'm also very busy," he warned, making sure to keep a safe distance between them.

"With what? Standin' around staring at fuckin' trees? You looked downright miserable," he pointed out, stalking closer. Jon's pride refused to let him back away, and he stood a little taller, squaring his shoulders. If he took so much as one step backwards, Tormund wouldn't let him live it down.

"I was just thinking."

"Miserable thoughts, I'm sure."

Okay, that was a good one, Jon had to admit. He ducked his head with a shy smile, allowing a short chuckle to slip out. Tormund grinned wider and pointed a wagging finger at him.

"Aaah, I was right! So tell me Jon Snow, why do you like being so miserable?" he asked, closing the distance and slinging a heavy arm around Jon's shoulder.

"I don't," he balked at him, brows furrowed and body tense where he stood. Tormund sighed.

"Coulda fooled me," he shrugged.

"And I suppose you're happy right now?" Jon countered.

"I'm trying to be," Tormund huffed. He waited a beat, striking when he thought Jon's guard was down. He managed to dig his hand under his arm, drawing out a shocked peal of laughter.

"T-Tohohormund, stohop! Wehehe don't hahave time for thihihis!" Jon hated how quickly he crumbled, but he'd never been able to hold out for very long.

"Don't wanna laugh one last time before the end of the world?" he asked, adding his other hand to the fray.