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A helping hand

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Her days were spent in cyclic repetition, following a schedule that felt like the four walls of a prison cell. Wake. Eat. Sleep. Staring at the walls in between. Lately with less of the eating and sleeping.


She’d never felt so alone in her life, but in a way, she preferred it like that.


These days she was poor company, anyways.


The covers on Yang’s bed were thick and heavy, enveloping her in a cocoon of warmth. She generally appreciated that. Late Autumns in Patch tended to be cruel; biting winds rolling in off the sea to rattle windows and savage unprotected flesh.


Whatever dream she had woken up from had left her blood boiling and she grunted at the uncomfortable feeling of the covers sticking to her bare skin, kicking and shoving aimlessly until they pooled at her knees.


All that remained was already fading flashes of bare skin, writhing bodies, and heated breaths.


Yang slowly dragged her fingers down along the pale plain of her stomach, scraping her nails along skin, and leaving angry red lines in their wake.


Whatever her subconscious had cooked up for her, it must have been good because her underwear clung to her skin and her fingers slid easily over her slick sex.


She paused for a moment out of long-established habit, listening intently.


Nights at Patch were quiet. Yang vaguely remembered enjoying that, but after years and years of combat schools, first Signal and then Beacon, she’d come to expect a constant presence of… Life, she supposed.


It had made studying and sleeping difficult at first but once she’d gotten used to it, it had provided a pleasant sort of white noise. She’d eventually found it comforting.


The timber-walls of the house creaked every so often but the night was otherwise silent.


Her fingers began to move in a patient caress. She preferred a slower pace but Beacon had rarely allowed her to indulge. Now all she had was time. More than she knew what to do with. Why not do something useful with some of it?


Yang let her eyes fall shut and her mind drifted into fantasy.




Yang had always lived for the fight. Ever since she’d been little she’d been filled with a thrumming need to move, to act and she’d learned quickly to channel that energy into physical activity. She’d had to, she knew, or go completely stir-crazy.


Whenever she felt that itch beneath her skin, her first thought was always to head to the gym and get a work-out. An hour there tended to do wonders for her mood.


And so, after an hour sitting at home, picking up books, her scroll, and at one point Ruby, before putting them down again, she’d decided it was time to hit the gym.


It was the night before the Winter Solstice celebration and even at 8 o’clock in the evening, her dad was still busy in the kitchen preparing the food for the next day.


Outside, the cold was bitter and even through her dad’s biggest, thickest winter coat and her semblance, Yang could feel it as she trudged down the silent snow-covered streets. She was shivering by the time she ripped open the door to the old gym, slipping inside and feeling the warmth and familiarity of the place envelope her.


She had come here with her dad since she’d been eight and the place hadn’t changed a bit with the passage of time.


Yang had only made it a couple of steps into the building before she heard the sound of activity, heavy breathing and the meaty sound of fists striking one of the gym’s heavy bags.


The idea of someone else as committed (or as crazy, according to Ruby) to drag their ass over here through the cold had Yang grinning as she strode into the large open room.


The central feature was the boxing ring where her father had first taught her to fight. There were the bags, of varying sizes and purposes, in one corner. Another had free-weights, another machines, and so on. At the back of the room, three separate doors lead into the two changing rooms and a small office the owner used whenever he was around.


Patch was a small community and he never locked the door, trusting people to pay their due.


Having arrived in her work-out pants and top, she only had to shrug out of her jacket and hoodie and change her winter boots for the sneakers she’d brought. She’d ditched her shorts for the season, her commitment to avoiding frostbite overriding her commitment to looking fabulous.


She found her guy working one of the punching bags and what a guy he was. He was just above average height, with broad, muscular shoulders and arms on full display in his threadbare white tank-top.


He was probably in his early twenties and his reflection in the mirror was… Kinda cute. He had no idea how to properly use the bag, of course, but he looked good doing it.


Yang grinned at him and they exchanged a quick look while she took a bag of her own, a few rows from his, and began to show him how it was done.


They worked up a sweat together, exchanging the odd glance, and Yang felt a slow thrum of excitement building low in her belly each time she caught his eyes drifting. She knew it was only a matter of time.


Fifteen minutes, as it turned out, and then he was swaggering over.


“Hey,” he said, eyeing her continuing work on the heavy bag. “Need a hand?”


Yang had a feeling he used that line a lot. She raised an eyebrow at him.


“Does it look like I need one?” She asked, smiling innocently.


Pretty he may be, but he clearly wasn’t all that bright.


“Yeah. Your stance is off. Do you want me to show you how it’s done?”

Yang gave him a slow once-over.


“Sure thing, big guy. Why dontcha show me?”


That actually took him off guard. What, had he been expecting her to flutter her eyelashes or something?


He recovered after a couple of seconds (losing cool-points) and stepped in behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.


“Keep your arm straight,” he said.


He was so full of shit but his touch felt nice and he moved in closer, fingers lightly trailing her down to her forearm.


“Flex your stomach,” he instructed her, voice dropping to a husky note. “Uh-wow.”


He sounded appreciative - as he should be - and he was hard already, pressing against the small of her back, and Yang leaned into him.


“Well?” she said, her voice half teasing, half taunting. “What’re you waiting for?”


She felt his breath on her neck as he brushed her hair aside, and she tilted her head ever-so-slightly in response. His lips were warm and his kisses were light--kinda uncertain at first, but a slight hitch in her breath seemed to feed him fresh confidence.


Yang’s head fell back and she caught a glance at the clock. 10:20. Her curfew was 11 o’clock and she didn’t want her dad to come by to fetch her and catch her astride a guy. Again. It was time to speed things up.


She turned around and kissed him hard, grabbing both of his hands and pushing them down along her back until they rested on her ass. She’d seen him looking earlier.


He was a pretty good kisser, though he couldn’t compare to her best, which was still, embarrassingly, when she’d traded practise kisses with Ruby.


Yang hooked a leg around his waist and drew him in, pressing their hips together. He moved forwards, backing her up until her shoulder blades were pressed against the rough concrete wall.


“Hang on,” Yang laughed, though she couldn’t resist grinding herself up along the length of his cock once more before slipping out of his grasp.


She headed for her coat and fetched her wallet, picking up the condom she kept there for emergencies. If the talk at school hadn’t hammered down the lesson of the importance of always protecting oneself, then the thoroughly scarring talk she’d gotten from Qrow a month or so later surely had.


She skipped back up to him, slinging her arms around his neck. “Now where were we?”


She found herself pressed back up against the same wall less than a minute later, legs twined around the guy’s hips, toes digging into the waistband of his shorts in an attempt to kick them off him.


He dragged her sweatpants and panties down her legs in a single smooth motion, fumbling around with the condom for what felt like minutes - agonizing, aching minutes - before sliding inside of her. Yang squeezed her arms and legs around him, her nails digging into his skin as a moan - god, yes - escaped her lips.


“You okay?” He sounded a little concerned but that didn’t stop him from moving.


Yang bit down on his collarbone, meeting his second thrust with an eager shift of her hips.


“Fan-fucking-tastic,” she breathed.


Her aura protected her from the rough concrete and mortar that would otherwise have dug into her back, leaving nothing but a pleasant scraping sensation like the nails of a lover along her back and ass.


She held on and let him pound into her, sweat soaking into her tank-top and running down her neck as they picked up the pace.


The guy was built more for show than practicality, though, and after a while she felt his grip on her begin to slacken. She tightened her grip with her legs and arms but it wasn’t quite the same as feeling him lifting her up and pressing into her.


“Down,” she panted, throwing her weight against him until he stumbled backwards and onto a mattress, with Yang settling astride his hips.


She barely let him catch his breath, riding him hard and fast until she felt her climax rising. She kept her mouth shut instead of announcing she was about to come. In her experience, that was the one thing that was going to get a guy to blow his load before she was done with him.

Her hand dropped down between their heaving bodies, down through slick blonde curls to press firmly against her clit. Her other hand seized her breast - only it got lost somewhere along the way.


Yang blinked and opened her eyes. Her arm was gone, with nothing but a stump left. The fantasy dissolved and Yang found herself back in her room, the cold prickling against her heated skin, the pleasure that had been building to a peak quickly dissipating despite her best attempts to coax it.


She groaned in frustration, her head dropping back onto her pillow. It was just in her head. Her arm hadn’t been gone back then - She was just freaking out.


Nothing to it. She just needed a better fantasy. That guy - whatever his name had been - had been pretty good for a hump and dump but he hadn’t exactly blown her mind.


Yang glared down at her useless left hand. It should work. She knew it should. She’d broken the other once and she hadn’t had any problems getting off then, but for the last few weeks, every attempt had been a bust. It had to be the fantasy. Though it was better to be safe than sorry.


She slipped her hand out of her panties and dragged her fingers along her clit through the fabric, breath hissing through her teeth at the friction. She closed her eyes again.




There weren’t many bars on Patch and even fewer that would sell alcohol to those who were, technically, minors for another month. Two weeks in bed and Yang had been finding herself going crazy. Crazier. Whatever.


The moment she’d heard her father begin to snore, she’d grabbed her favourite top and a pair of form-fitting jeans.


If she didn’t look at the stump it worked… Pretty well.


Sneaking out wasn’t hard. She’d perfected that act years ago. Much like she’d perfected the flirty smile that ensured that the bouncer wouldn’t ask her for her ID. She recognized the man as a retired hunter who sometimes came along for her father’s Sunday barbecues but he didn’t recognize her.


Then again, it had been ten years and a limb since they’d last met. He nodded at her and she walked past him without a word.


Yang hung back just inside the door and scanned the place. The clientele consisted of mostly anyone on Patch who wanted beer and company without having to pay much. The quality of both the beer and the company was what could be expected, with students and old-time hard drinkers sitting shoulder to shoulder.


At the far back of the room, Yang spotted what she was looking for. A guy a couple of years older than her sat alone, nursing a beer while watching the big screen setup on one wall where a ball-game was running on mute.


It wasn’t until she’d grabbed a beer for herself and gotten closer that she recognized him.


Jack? Joe? James? Something like that.


He’d been their newspaper boy when they’d been younger. Yang remembered talking to him a few times while her father got the money to pay his fee.


He’d been pretty cute back then and that hadn’t changed. Grinning, she slid out of her coat and into the seat next to him.


“Hey there, hot stuff,” she said. “Remember me?”


She’d meant for it to come out in a sultry purr but it ended up as more of a croaky whisper.


Jim? Joel? Jasper?


J-man opened his mouth to say something. His eyes did the customary once-over, lingering on her breasts.


His teeth glinted bright, even in the muted lighting of the booth, as the corner of his mouth turned up for a moment…


The spot had been perfect and it hadn’t taken many minutes before she was unbuttoning his jeans under the cover of the table, reaching inside his boxers. She’d found him rigid and laughed softly as she wrapped her hand around the length of his cock.


She kept a fast pace, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, and enjoying the way he tried to keep quiet.


He only lasted for a couple of breathless minutes before coming all over her hand and thoroughly ruining his underwear.


Smirking, she leaned in and kissed him on the mouth.


“Let’s find someplace a little quieter, huh?”


She walked off, hips swaying, knowing full well he was pulling his pants up as quickly as he could, probably hoping it was dark enough that nobody would notice the stains.


He went down on her in a nearby alley, his hot tongue keeping her warm even in the relentless cold…


Only that wasn’t really how it happened.


His teeth glinted bright, even in the muted lighting of the booth, as the corner of his mouth turned up for a moment… And then the smile slid off his face as surely as if she’d slapped him.


“Oh. Hey, Yang.” His tone was gentle. Subdued. Like she’d just lost a loved one.


She’d gotten that tone of voice from just about anyone she’d talked to lately and she hated it.


That wasn’t how this had been supposed to go. She playfully bumped her shoulder up against his, forcing cheer into her voice.


“How’s it hanging? I haven’t seen you in ages!”


“Uh. Fine.” He swallowed. “I heard about Beacon. Are you okay?”


His eyes drifted again and Yang realized that he hadn’t actually been staring at her breasts. He’d been staring at the stump that was left of her arm.


The insistent, throbbing pound of arousal dwindled and died, quickly replaced by nausea.


“Yeah. Totally fine.” She dared a glance at his eyes and the nausea roiled and swirled in her belly at the sight of the pity there. “I- I gotta go.”


She’d run off and only barely made it out in time to collapse to her knees at the mouth of an alley to throw up.




Yang groaned and pressed her fingers harder against her sex. Why didn’t it work? How fucking hard was it to just come? She’d managed it, without fail, for years. Her hands clenched into fists and she ground her teeth together to not scream in sheer frustration.


She rolled over onto her stomach and grabbed her scroll from where it lay on her bedside table, plugging the wire to her headphones into it, and putting the buds into her ears.


She grabbed the pillow she’d fallen asleep snuggled up against and pushed it down under her until it lay nestled between her thighs. Her hips shifted, grinding down as her trembling fingers typed out her preferred keywords into the search engine.


A video started with two women, a blonde and a brunette, heading into an apartment, arguing with one another about… something. The acting and script were ludicrous to the point of hilarity and Yang quickly tuned out the dialogue.


If she squinted, she could pretend they were Blake and Weiss.


The idea of the two of them had always been… kinda cute. Not that she thought it would ever happen, or work out if it somehow did, but she’d always gotten off on the idea.


She could imagine it. A late study-session in the library on one of the many assignments the two of them took so very seriously. A discussion would turn into an argument. Tempers would flare. They would get to their feet, get into one another’s faces, hissing in hushed voices, and before either really knew how, they would be kissing.


Yang always pictured Blake as the one taking charge, but in the video the blonde was the one on top of things, so she rolled with that.


Weiss wasn’t the delicate flower that appearances might suggest. She could be feisty and bossy, so it wasn’t entirely implausible that she’d be the one to push Blake up against a bookshelf, sliding a thigh in between the faunus’ legs and grinding into her with that cocky smirk she sometimes had whenever she’d done well in a sparring match.


Blake wasn’t often the kind to be pushed, especially by Weiss, but she might just be caught by surprise as the heiress’ cool, soft lips dropped a row of kisses down along her throat.


Picturing the two of them naked wasn’t difficult. Months and months of changing and showering together had gotten them all used to nudity pretty quickly. Weiss had initially been the most prudish of the lot, of course, but once she’d gotten over that she’d definitely gotten over it.


Yang wondered if she might not have wanted their eyes on her. She’d always had a vain streak and she did sometimes remain naked longer than was strictly necessary, taking the time to brush her hair in nothing but a loosely belted robe or to apply that luxury lotion they weren’t allowed to touch.


Yang wondered how she was doing, back in Atlas. Was she still up, too? Alone in the dark of her room? Or had she gotten over them all already and settled back into the life of the rich and fabulous?


Was Blake happy wherever she’d run off to? Was she even alive?


Yang’s hips came to a slow halt and she groaned. Her body kept on throbbing and pulsing with arousal but the spark had gone and no matter how hard she tried, no matter what she did, she just couldn’t get it back.


Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, slowly but inevitably, and she couldn’t stop them. Just like she hadn’t been able to stop Adam.


The sadness, the anger, the frustration and the arousal all piled down on her. She pounded her fist against the mattress, sobbing. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have any outlet any more. No enemy she could fight.


She was all alone.




There was a soft, tentative knock on her door and Yang quickly yanked the covers up to her chin and went still underneath them.


“I know you’re awake.”


She tried to stay quiet, to choke down the sobs but something about Ruby’s gentle voice cut deep, straight through her defenses as surely as the monster’s sword had.


“Leave me alone, Ruby.”


The door clicked shut and the floor creaked as Ruby’s footsteps approached. There was a moment or two of silence and then the mattress depressed as Ruby settled down.


Yang refused to move. Both to hide the tears streaking her cheeks and the pillow still wedged between her thighs.


“Please just go.”


Ruby didn’t go anywhere and a part of Yang didn’t want her to. Normally, it would’ve been more important to her to seem strong in front of her little sister but she just didn’t have much bravery or strength left in her.


When Ruby didn’t move she didn’t have it in her to ask again. A small and gentle hand touched her shoulder and Yang shuddered at the feel of the cold fingers.


“Sorry,” Ruby mumbled. “I was out getting some fresh air and I heard you.”


She withdrew, rubbed her palms together vigorously, and exhaled deeply into her cupped hands.


“There,” she pronounced. “All better. C’mon, scootch over.”


Ruby was a lot like Yang in that she didn’t deal well with being cooped up. She’d sneak out past the walls, sometimes. To visit her mother’s grave. To explore. To hunt. If it was late enough that she’d get back early in the morning, she’d usually sneak by the bakery just as they were starting up for the day and buy freshly made bread or cookies, which they’d share.


She’d been out for a while tonight. Her cheeks were tinted pink and there was sleet in her dark hair. Her silver eyes were luminous in the dark, almost like the shattered moon shining in through her window, and there was pain there in their depths. Her fault.


The second shudder, when Ruby’s arm curled around her shoulder, Yang couldn’t blame on the cold. Almost getting caught should’ve killed the spark of her arousal, the way it normally would have, but it hadn’t. It kept on smouldering and Yang was painfully aware of the way the pillow dug into her.


They lay there, side by side. The wind outside kept on howling.


“So... “ Ruby prompted. Her breath smelled sweet. She’d definitely snuck by the bakery. “Tell me what’s bugging ya.”


“It’s nothing,” Yang said.


“Nuh-uh,” Ruby said, brows furrowing sternly. “It is something. I know my big sister and she doesn’t just cry unless something’s wrong.”


“You know what’s wrong,” Yang said through gritted teeth.


Tears appeared in Ruby’s eyes and Yang felt even more wretched. As if it wasn’t enough her life was ruined. Now she was dragging her sister down with her, too.


“I don’t, though,” Ruby said. “This is… something different.”


Yang drew a deep, slow breath, trying to stay calm. Some of the heat leaked out in her voice, though.


“I said I am fine, Ruby. Just leave it.”


Ruby blinked and a few tears slid down her cheek.


“You say that but you’re lying to me. You’ve never done that before and it scares me, so...”


Yang’s hand clenched into a fist under the covers.


“Fine. You wanna know? I was flicking the bean and you interrupted me.”


She took a certain vicious pleasure from the way Ruby’s eyes widened and the flush that began to rise up her throat to her cheeks.




“Yeah. So if you’d leave me alone maybe I could finish.”


Ruby’s body tensed for a moment, as though she was about to finally roll off the bed and leave Yang alone… And then her eyebrows pinched together in a thoughtful frown.


“Hang on. So why were you crying?”




That was a flaw in the logic Yang had hoped Ruby wouldn’t latch on to. The last dregs of her dignity and resolve slipped out of her clenched fist and Yang felt hot, shameful tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.


“It doesn’t work. Ever since I…” It pained her to say it. “I can’t come.”


“Oh. Ooh…” Realization seemed to shove aside some of the embarassment for Ruby and she edged closer, laying down on her stomach next to Yang and slinging an arm around her shoulder.. “So, like, not at all?”


Yang shook her head, burying her face against Ruby’s red cloak.


“Not since…” She couldn’t bear to speak the words but Ruby seemed to understand and squeezed her harder.


“Have you like - um - tried different stuff?”


Yang pressed her face into folds of the cloak. Her answer came out muffled but at least she didn’t have to look Ruby in the face as she admitted: “Yeah. Pretty much everything.”


“Oh. Okay. Maybe… Maybe you should just try to get some sleep instead and tomorrow we can go do some shopping?”


That took Yang out of her (cloaked, haha!) exile and she glanced sideways at Ruby and her hopeful smile.


“You hate shopping, Ruby.”


She shrugged. “Yeah, but I love you. Soo… I thought some shopping might cheer you up and- Yang, why are you crying?”


“S’nothing,” Yang said, wiping at her eyes with her forearm before wrapping that arm around Ruby’s slender shoulders and pulling her in close. “I love you, too.”


It wasn’t until they were pressed up chest to chest that Yang remembered she’d slept topless under the blankets. The brush of the fabric of Ruby’s pyjamas against her nipples had her breath catching in her throat and tightening the embrace.


Ruby made a soft sound of contentment that Yang couldn’t help but to echo. It felt obscenely good just to be held.


“So it’s a deal?”


“Yeah,” Yang said gruffly. “Deal. If you let me buy you some stuff, too.”


“Fine,” Ruby grumbled, though she was smiling just a little when Yang moved back out of the hug and lay her cheek back on her pillow. “Two outfits.”


“Three,” Yang said. “And that’s not including something nice for the summer.”


Ruby growled at her. It was really cute.


“Fine. It’s a deal. Let’s shake on it.” The sweet smile faded into dismay. “Oh. I mean. I - I’m sorry, Yang.”


“It’s fine,” Yang assured her, though her thready voice probably didn’t do a good job of convincing her.


“Kay.” Ruby slid in a little closer, underneath the blankets.


Her infinitely gentle fingers slid along Yang’s shoulders, from one to the other, her short, neatly clipped nails gently dragging along bare skin.


It was something Yang had done for Ruby plenty of times when she’d woken from a nightmare and it had always been perfectly innocent.


So why was Ruby’s touch sending slow shivers down her body now? Why did her hips shift, pressing her sex down against the sweet friction of the pillow between her thighs, when Ruby began to trail her spine?


Yang tried not to think of it. She kept her eyes pressed firmly shut, focusing on breathing slowly and steadily while she prayed sleep would come to claim her.


It didn’t. What had once soothed her into slumber now had tension gathering beneath her skin, setting it to a tingling sensitivity, goosebumps rising in the wake of Ruby’s touch.


“Do you remember back when I had night terrors after I first saw the grimm?”


“Mmm,” Yang murmured. “You refused to go to sleep unless I scratched your back.”


She really wished she didn’t remember. Both because of how terrible it had been seeing Ruby that distraught, knowing it was all her fault for dragging her along in that cart, and because of the heat pooling afresh low in her belly.


“I miss that,” Ruby said. “Not the nightmares - duh - but hanging out like we used to. Everything’s been so busy at Beacon.”


“Guess we’ve got time now,” Yang said.


Silence followed in the wake of her words. The fall of Beacon still weighed heavily on their shoulders.


“So…” Ruby said, clearly trying to switch topics. “Has that been where you’ve sneaked off to at night? Finding someone to help you with your - um - problem?”


Yang swallowed.




“Oh. And they couldn’t?”


“Wouldn’t. I mean, look at me. Can you blame them?”


“Yup,” Ruby said with unusual vehemence. “You’re beautiful and if they can’t see that they don’t deserve ya.”


She must’ve gotten lost in thought for a moment because her fingers brushed up against the hem of Yang’s panties before she began to move up again. A shiver ran down Yang’s spine, meeting Ruby’s fingers somewhere at the halfway point.


There had to be something wrong with her. No matter how starved for affection she was, there was no excuse for what was happening to her. No justification or explanation. She knew she should tell Ruby to go to bed but no matter how hard tried she couldn’t get the words out of her throat.


The one time she managed to open her mouth, Ruby’s fingers dug into a sore spot by her left shoulder blade, and a soft moan slipped past her lips.


“You’ll find someone soon,” Ruby said, with perfect conviction. “Or work it out on your own. You always do.”


“Thanks, Rubes.”


Ruby lay down on her side next to Yang again.


“You’re supposed to be falling asleep. Am I doing this wrong?”


“No. No. It feels great.”


“Oh. Good.” Ruby’s fingers resumed their work and Yang bit down on her bottom lip to stifle a sigh. “I couldn’t remember exactly how you used to do it.”


“You’re doing perfect,” Yang breathed.


Ruby beamed at her.


“I can’t imagine not doing it for like a month,” Ruby said, her voice hushed, as if someone might be eavesdropping. “That first week at Beacon almost drove me loopy.”


Yang could definitely sympathize with that. She could imagine Ruby laying there in her bunk at Beacon, desire setting her body aflame, too shy to reach down her underwear and press her fingers to the slick heat awaiting her there.


The bunk beds hadn’t allowed for much in the way of solo explorations and they had soon devised an unspoken schedule to ensure everyone had a bit privacy every so often. The crankiness in the dorm had dropped significantly.


“I’ll bet,” she murmured.


If only Ruby knew just how badly Yang yearned to reach down between her own legs now, how she ached, and how each pass of her sister’s fingers made it worse.


“I was all antsy - like all the time - Is it like that for you, too?”


Ruby’s fingers were once more trailing the muscles at the small of Yang’s back, damn near brushing against the early swell of the curve of her ass. She squeezed her thighs together and her reply came out as half a groan.


“Yeah. Pretty much.”


When her eyes flickered open she could see Ruby blushing again.


“Wow… Right now, too?”


Her fingers hadn’t moved for a while now, drawing slow tight circles. It had to be the subject distracting her, though, and not something intentional. That she even entertained the first option frightened Yang.


“Yeah,” she admitted. “Sorry.”


Ruby smiled - a sweet and sad expression.


“Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. I just wish I could make you feel better.”


She could, some far-back dark corner of Yang’s mind whispered. She was already almost doing it, wasn’t she? Just a few inches lower and her hand would be right where Yang truly needed it.


Yang pushed her face against her pillow, a soft wail escaping her lips. What was wrong with her? What kind of person even thought such a thing?


“Are you okay, Yang?”


Yang banged her head down into the soft pillow, repeatedly.


“No. It’s… This isn’t helping - It’s just making it worse.”


“Oh. Like… Oh. It’s making that worse.” She swallowed. “Should I stop?”


The gathering tension in her body had Yang shaking with anticipation and her voice came out sounding feeble, defeated.


“No. Please don’t.”


Ruby blinked and frowned. She understood. Yang’s stomach twisted in nausea. Any second now her fingers would still. She’d move back, make some sort of excuse, and then run off to her room. The next day they’d probably both act as though it had never happened… But she’d already ruined everything.


Ruby didn’t move away, though. She didn’t look disgusted or outraged. Just curious and a little sad.


“I could help you,” she said, her voice the barest of whispers. “If you’ll let me.”


A shudder wracked Yang’s body at the words and she ground her hips down into the pillow.


“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said.


There was no conviction in her voice, though.


“Maybe not,” Ruby agreed. “But letting you feel bad isn’t a good idea, either.”


Her hand ran along the curve of Yang’s ass, giving it a self-indulgent squeeze before moving down her thigh.


“Does this feel okay?” Ruby asked, her voice all but trembling.




It should feel wrong and Yang knew it. But it didn’t.


Ruby’s hand travelled down the back of her thigh all the way to her knee joint. She paused there.


“Could you turn around, Yang? It’ll be easier to - uh - you know.”


Yang hesitated. She wasn’t sure whether she could look Ruby in the eye but then she felt fingers skimming up the inside of her thigh and she rolled over without a second thought.


She caught a glimpse of Ruby’s face, determination and a small smile curving the corner of her mouth… And then her fingers pressed up against Yang’s sex through the fabric of her underwear.


The touch was soft - tentative, even - but it was enough to tear a groan from Yang’s throat. Her hips shifted forward, forcing more contact.


“Wow,” Ruby murmured, eyes wide. “Do you always get this wet?”


Yang couldn’t bring herself to speak so she thrashed her head left to right in the negative.


“Do you want me to touch you over or under your underwear?” Ruby asked.


“Under,” Yang managed to choke out.


“Okay. You’re gonna have to lift your butt a little, then.”


Yang did as she’d been told and Ruby slowly peeled the panties down her legs, eyes tracking the process, inch by inch. She held them up for a moment with an expression on her face Yang didn’t recognize.


“These are cute,” she said, running a finger along the spot at their center, grinning a little. “Yikes, Yang.”


She threw them aside and by the time her fingertips began their ascent up Yang’s thigh for the second time, Yang couldn’t even look at her.


“Is… Is this okay?” Ruby wondered.


“Yes. Ruby.” The words came out as a pathetic-sounding mewl as Ruby drew the rough pads of her fingers up her inner thigh and closed the last of the distance. “Please.”


Yang’s body shuddered at the first spike of pleasure that coursed through her, her eyes closing as she let out a breath of air she didn’t realize she was holding.


“What do you like?” Ruby asked. Her fingers were moving slowly along the length of Yang’s sex, her touch light. “‘Cos when I do it I usually keep my undies on. The friction’s kinda sweet.”


Yang tried her very best not to let her imagination go anyplace weird and managed it.


“You can be firmer,” she rasped.


“Like this?” Ruby asked, her thumb starting up a slow repeating circular motion.


“Bit harder.”


Ruby complied and it didn’t take Yang long to lose herself in the slowly building sensations and for the slow internal mantra of “It’s wrong, it’s wrong, it’s wrong” to be silenced.


Yang reached up and kneaded her breast, enjoying the soft, sweet sting of pain that accompanied the pleasure.


“I could do that for ya, too. If you want.” Ruby’s eyes were lingering on Yang’s hand. Her fingers continued their diligent work without slowing or losing focus.


“Yeah, sure. If you wanna.”


Ruby licked her lips. Yang wasn’t even sure if she realized she’d done it, but she definitely noticed.


“I wonder if mine will ever get that nice,” Ruby mused, dragging her hand along the slight curve of her own breasts. “I’ve been kinda hoping they might but yeah… No luck so far.”


She reached down and ran her thumb along the stiff peak of Yang’s nipple, her gentle touch a sweet contrast to Yang’s own rough ministrations.


“Hey…” Yang said chidingly. “You’re beautiful, okay? Don’t ever let anyone - and that includes you, by the way - say otherwise.”


She rolled over to her side and looked Ruby in the eye, running her fingers along Ruby’s chin. Her little sister smiled - like sunshine peeking in between the clouds on a dreary winter afternoon - and Yang quickly looked away.


That smile and the sweet intimacy of it was dangerous. She needed to remain detached. This had to stay purely physical or it would destroy everything.


“You really think so?” Ruby asked in a small voice.


“Yeah. Can I?” Yang’s hand dropped down to the top button of Ruby’s pyjama top.


Ruby licked her lips again and nodded.


She was just helping Ruby feel better about herself, Yang reasoned as she worked the buttons one at a time, baring a growing sliver of pale skin at the gap between the fabric, and finally the modest swell of Ruby’s breasts.


“So beautiful,” Yang murmured, parting the fabric to greedily paw at the skin beneath. “So- Oh…”


Ruby’s touches had been slow and steady, patiently letting the pressure build, and now it was about to boil over. Another moan spilled helplessly from Yang’s lips.


“Shh,” Ruby hissed. “You’ll wake dad.”


The flash of guilt was quickly made irrelevant when Ruby’s fingers slid inside of her.


She pressed her free hand to Yang’s chest, nudging her back against the mattress and straddled her. It must have made the angle awkward for her but the deft movement of her fingers didn’t slow or falter.


They were close, now. So very close. Yang could feel Ruby’s hot, eager breath on her lips, a drop of sweat running down along her slender nose. Her resolve faltered and she looked up into Ruby’s eyes.


There was affection there, but hunger too. Ruby wanted to see her come. There was a moment where something passed between them, and then their lips met.


The kiss was slow and sweet and Yang felt the waves cresting, crashing and-




Ruby’s tongue swiped out against her bottom lip and Yang whimpered into her mouth as she came.


Minutes ticked by slowly and the room was once more silent, save for the howling wind and their laboured breathing.


When sanity returned it brought guilt along with it.


Ruby had curled herself around Yang’s body, stroking the back of her hand along her cheek.


“Did I make you feel better?” She wondered, her voice small.


“Yeah,” Yang said thickly. “Of course.”


“So why are you crying?”


Yang raised a hand to her face, feeling the wetness against her fingers, before quickly wiping at her eyes with her forearm.


“It’s nothing, Ruby.”


Ruby shot her a sceptical look she must have learned from Weiss and Yang caved almost immediately.


“I just shouldn’t have made you do that.”


The silence that followed felt like minutes. “But I wanted to. You needed me to so I did it.” Ruby frowned. “Was that wrong?”


It was painful but Yang held her gaze, taking in the way Ruby brushed nervously at her bottom lip with her thumb.


“Yes,” she said. Ruby’s face fell and the disappointment seared through Yang like Vacuan wildfire. “I mean - no. I mean - argh, this, I - I don’t know.”


Ruby’s bottom lip trembled and Yang yearned to reach out, to take her hand, to soothe it all away, but she didn’t - instead, she retreated, fingers curling into the palm of her hand. “It’s - It’s not your fault. This… it’s all on me.”


“I wanted this, too,” Ruby said, her voice barely a whisper.


“You don’t mean that.”


“I do, though.” She took Yang’s hand in hers, gentle fingers running along her skin until Yang’s fist unclenched.


Their fingers intertwined and Ruby slowly led Yang’s hand down, lingering for a moment over the curve of her breasts, before descending to the soft skin along her belly. Nervousness manifested in the way the movement slowed, inch by inch, until their hands came to rest just below her waist.


Ruby gave her a shaky nod and Yang moved her hand the rest of the way, pushing underneath the flannel of her pyjama bottoms.


“Oh.” The breath that escaped Ruby’s lips sounded like a shiver as Yang’s fingers pressed down against the soaked crotch her panties.


“What was that you were saying earlier?” Yang said, her breathless voice taking on a teasing edge.


“Shut up, Yang,” Ruby whimpered, pressing her face into the crook of Yang’s neck.


Yang grinned up at her.


“Why don’t you make me?”


Ruby met the press of Yang’s fingers with a slow undulation of her hips and the rest of the world around them faded away. There was only the sweet agony on Ruby’s face, her gasps for breath and the whimpers whenever Yang hit just the right spot.


“Nearly,” Ruby whined.


Yang blinked. “What? Nearly what?”


Ruby’s elaboration died on her lips as she pressed them firmly shut. Her body froze, every muscle in her thin body standing out in stark relief on her skin as she came. She shook and with a low little whine, sank down to rest her head on Yang’s chest.


“Love you so much,” she slurred, vague eyes fighting to stay open. “So - so much.”


Yang carefully withdrew her hand from Ruby’s pyjamas, enjoying the shiver the ran all the way through her sister’s body as she did, and squeezed her trembling form even more snugly against her.


“I love you too, Ruby.”


“Imma go to sleep right here,” Ruby mumbled, eyes closing.


Yang was about to protest but Ruby was already gone.


Minutes went by and Yang hadn’t the heart to move the lightly snoring Ruby. She knew she should rouse her and force her back into her own bed. Even with one arm, she could have carried her over, too, without ever waking her.


Instead, Yang eased her off onto one side of the bed and snuggled up behind her.


Yang knew that they would end up regretting what they’d done. She knew it would bring about the ruination of everything they knew and everything they had left. It could and probably would tear their family to shreds.


Yang pulled the covers over the both of them and kissed Ruby’s hair.


In that moment she didn’t care.