The midafternoon sun slipped through the window of their Atlesian dorm, deep orange like sundown this far North.
“Hm?” she asked, her voice sounding tired, a sleepy sort of fogginess behind her closed eyes.
“...I’m really happy you’re here.”
Her ears flicked atop a bob of almost-dry hair, and she raised her head from the pillow she was resting on, eyes slipping open to fix an amber gaze on the person whose bed she was sharing. She was silent for a minute, eyes scanning Yang’s face, looking for any sign of distress or hidden meaning.
The only thing Yang had to give was a small, soft smile. She hadn’t said it to dredge up old memories or as some way to broach a more serious topic. It was just...honesty. Blake knew that, could see it on her partner’s face, see it in the warm lilac of her eyes.
Blake’s eyes flicked away from Yang’s face, down to the space between their bodies. After a moment, she scooted just a few inches closer, and her hand found the expanse of Yang’s stomach, pressing down comfortingly over the soft cotton of her Atlas Academy T-shirt. Her eyes too, turned soft. As soft as Yang had ever seen them. Her voice seemed to compliment the silence in the room, rather than break it, “I’m happy I’m here too.”
A beat passed, before she leaned back down, this time resting her head on the curve of Yang’s shoulder instead of the pillow they’d been sharing. Her legs came up, until she was curled up against her partner’s side, and she continued, “I’m just...happy generally, really.”
It wasn’t much of a confession. A simple thing, just being ‘generally happy’, but Yang knew what she was saying. For a year, their lives had been hell. Both haunted in their own ways, both running and burning and feeling like they were dying. Even before that, neither of them had been graced with particularly easy lives, Blake least of all.
She still saw the bags under Blake’s eyes at Beacon, sometimes. The invisible ghosts that haunted her. Fear that dragged her to places where Yang couldn't help. Guilt that was sometimes irrational, sometimes understandable, but never deserved.
But...it was gone now. Life carried on, they had moved forward, healed slowly, and now…
It glowed, something, deep- deep in Yang’s heart. An energy she couldn’t contain-- and so she acted on impulse.
With a quick movement, she reached across her chest and grabbed ahold of Blake, tugging the girl up onto her chest and hugging her to her body, marvelling at just how light she was, at the airy laugh in her voice at Yang’s action.
“I’m happy, too,” she said back, feeling Blake settle easily, if a bit awkwardly, into her new position laying on top of Yang.
She lived for the smile on Blake’s lips, it was sweet enough to hurt .
They were both tired. It’d been a long day of training, running drills with the Ace-Ops and JN_R, dancing around Atlas’s fancy training simulators and getting their teamwork nice and oil-smooth. Ruby and Weiss (somehow) were still off in the training hall, but the other half of Team RWBY had called it quits for a quick shower each. Now, they were relaxing after their day of training in a matching set of Atlesian sweats, up in Yang’s bunk.
This was all still so...new, crazy even. They were now...something.
Something more than they were before.
They hadn’t named it, Yang realized with a bit of a start. Hadn’t really felt a need to. For as much as communication had been key in fixing their relationship after the Fall, this part had just sort of...happened.
And now they were together. No, they’d been together for a while; now, they were Together .
Blake squirmed a bit on top of Yang, and she quickly loosened her arms, eyes flying to her prosthetic, immediately worried she’d accidentally pinched Blake with it, or - her heart gave a lurch at the thought - had made her uncomfortable with the sudden position change. It occurred to her then that they hadn't even hugged all that much, and only kissed once or twice. Thinking about it, this feeling, Blake’s featherlight weight on her chest, pressing down and spreading this strange, wonderful, all-encompassing warmth everywhere their bodies touched-- Gods it was wonderful, but it was absolutely, completely new to them. At Beacon, there had always been a layer of polite distance between them (mostly), and with as new as this thing between them was, they hadn't really explored touch before.
Yang kicked herself internally. She knew Blake could be a bit iffy about physical contact, of course she wouldn’t want to suddenly be hauled up on top of Yang! “We don’t have to stay like this,” Yang said quietly, quickly, loosening her grip to let Blake know she wasn’t trapped, “I just got kinda excited and wanted to hug on you, it’s-”
She was interrupted by this delirious little laugh Blake let out, smooth and content. “No, it’s fine, I’m just getting comfortable,” she paused for a moment, giving Yang a strange look from under her chin, “Do you want me to move?” There was something sly and knowing in her eyes that made Yang’s heart do a funny little double-beat. “I’ll move if you want me to,” she promised, but her eyes said she already knew what Yang was going to say.
“I-I mean...” Yang managed to get out, an embarrassed blush coloring her cheeks. She didn’t blush, ever! She was supposed to be the one who made people blush, not the other way around! She couldn’t help it though, not when Blake did…
...well, pretty much anything really. It wasn’t Yang’s fault that she was so…’pretty’ didn’t really do it justice. It wasn’t Yang’s fault that she was so Blake .
“I will move if you want me to,” Blake reiterated, scheming eyes locking onto Yang’s and trapping her with a gaze millions of times more tightly than Yang could ever trap Blake with her arms, “but be honest though, because I certainly don’t want to move.” Her leg shifted over Yang’s hips so she was straddling the taller girl, crossing her arms above Yang’s breast and settling down so that her chin rested on her own forearms. Blake's warmth suffused through her whole body, and the comforting-but-light weight of her partner was ever-present at the front of Yang’s mind, warm and safe. A quiet, subvocal sound slipped through Blake’s throat, and her ears flicked playfully atop her head as she added, “You’re quite cozy.”
It was too much, Yang broke eye contact and looked away, heat burning her cheeks like embers, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but slightly embarrassed felicity. “You’re a little fiend, you know that?” she grumbled, pouting harder when Blake began to laugh, light and chesty.
Yang could feel every laugh pressed against her body, feel the quakes that ran through her partner, and she couldn’t hold her frown for long. It split into another smile and her arms tightened around the small of her partner’s back, a giddy joy making her heart do somersaults in her chest.
Silence blanketed them once again, quiet and peaceful.
Everything was complex nowadays, between Salem and Cinder and Atlas and Mantle and the SDC and the Relics and the Maidens and-
-and this? This was blessedly, blissfully simple.
Blake’s eyes slipped closed after a moment, a silent rumble in her chest accompanying her breaths. Yang could feel it against her stomach, feel every twitch and movement her partner made, feel the way it accompanied the warmth that seeped down to her bones from the girl on her chest. Yang watched a small, contented smile curl Blake’s lips as she began to doze off.
It meant more than Yang thought Blake realized. The way she was content - happy even - to lay on top of Yang, the easy way Blake closed her eyes. She doubted Blake meant it this way, doubted she even gave it a second thought, but the meaning was there regardless.
It meant Blake trusted her. Implicitly. That here, in this quiet dorm in Atlas Academy, alone on Yang’s bed, she felt safe . Safe enough she could close her eyes, slip off into a light little nap. The ears on her head were forward but lax, the tips tilting down just a hair.
Blake saw her as a safe place. Blake wanted to be here. She…wanted to be with Yang.
She wanted to Stay.
Yang’s lips pressed into a thin line, but not in apprehension. The sight and the thought felt so good it almost hurt , and her heart ached. So she squeezed her arms around her partner, watched as her lips parted a little at the pressure in an easy smile, and relaxed back against her own pillow. She cradled both the emotion and the woman causing it, and let the exhaustion from her workout and the contented comfort carry her into her own easy nap.
It wasn’t even really sleep, Yang had just dozed off into that strange half-sleep that came from napping while physically exhausted but not necessarily tired. A dreamless, warm grey haze where all there was, was rest and Blake.
Warmth, light-but-comforting weight, lavender-scented shampoo. A silent rumbling against her chest Yang wasn’t sure was purring or snores.
But what woke her, maybe ten or fifteen minutes after she'd dozed off, wasn’t any of that. There was an...irregularity.
“Mnf…” Blake made a quiet noise, prodding at Yang’s sleep-addled mind as she returned to consciousness, eyes still closed but gaining awareness by the second.
The first thing she did was marvel at just how light Blake was, again. She couldn’t get over it, for some reason it remained right at the front of Yang’s mind every time she focused on the woman in her arms. Sleek and light and strong, like bumblebee if she’d been made of carbon-fiber and titanium instead of aluminum and steel. Even with all Blake's weight resting on top of her, Yang wasn’t even a little uncomfortable. Blake’s breathing was deep and regular, and even without the covers over them, Yang was undeniably warm. In fact, it was so comfortable that she almost dozed back off, but there was still a weird..something, prodding at the edge of her mind.
She blinked her eyes open, peering around the room. She must not have been asleep for long, as her and Blake were still very much alone in the dorm, but that didn’t really say very much. Ruby and Weiss could train like animals some days. She glanced down sleepily. In place of the familiar sight of her own body, Yang got an eyeful of a mess of black hair resting atop her chest, Blake’s arms having migrated to either side of Yang’s ribs and her cheek having found a new resting place right flush against the swell of Yang’s right breast at some point.
Yang stared for several seconds, her cheeks warming a touch at the sight and the sudden awareness of the warm weight right smack on her boob. Her shirt wasn’t exactly a v-neck, but as jostled as it was from Blake laying on her, her neckline was definitely low enough to expose a fair bit of skin, which Blake's breath puffed warmly across. She didn’t mind, really. In fact, she surprised herself with just how fine with it she was. They were just boobs after all, there didn’t have to be anything weird about her maybe-girlfriend using them as pillows. Even if her skin did tingle whenever Blake breathed across them.
Blake made another quiet noise, pressing her face down. A shiver danced up Yang’s spine at the feeling, her blush still shallow but beginning to deepen.
Yang considered waking her up for a moment. She didn’t mind, but Blake would probably be mortified when she woke up nose-deep in cleavage.
But, she could see this small, perfect little smile on Blake’s lips, and knew she wouldn’t be able to wake her partner up. Not when she looked so...happy.
Making a snap decision, Yang craned her neck forward, planting a short, tender kiss to the top of Blake’s head, right between her ears. They flicked against Yang’s cheeks, almost making her giggle at the ticklish sensation. She held it in, pretty sure laughing right into Blake’s ears would wake her up, but the fluttery joy in her heart lingered.
She settled back into her pillow. Weiss would probably tease them to no end if her and Ruby walked in on them like this, but honestly? Yang would put up with all the teasing in the world for another five minutes of this wonderful peace. She closed her eyes with a smile to partner Blake’s, ready to doze back off.
Only, Blake made another little sound, and this one was accompanied by a movement.
It was slight, almost not-there. A little shift of weight, a pressure near her stomach. Her brows furrowed, wondering if maybe she’d just imagined it.
Nope, there it was again, that faint little shifting of motion. Oh, right, that weird irregularity that had woken her up. Probably just Blake getting comfortable, moving in her sleep or something. Yang relaxed back again, eyes screwing shut in an effort to let sleep take her again.
There it was again, this time accompanied by a little, “Mhn,” humming past Blake’s lips.
What was she-?
A warmth began to grow above Yang’s stomach. Almost not-there, at first, but slowly-but-surely a spot of heat became apparent, right against her stomach.
Yang’s hands wandered a little, a gentle touch on Blake’s back. She felt a subtle shifting under her skin with every motion, and her cheeks colored as realization slowly began to seep into her sleep-fogged brain. Slowly, tentatively, Yang’s hands wandered lower, nerves making each hand shake as she became increasingly anxious of accidentally putting her hands somewhere she wasn’t supposed to, but she needed to be sure -
It was when Yang’s hands were just above Blake’s hips, to each side of the small of her back, she felt it for certain, an undeniable truth.
The pressure was coming from Blake slowly, firmly, rocking her hips forward against Yang’s stomach.
Her strong thighs straddled Yang’s body, trapping her beneath her mostly-asleep partner, who was lazily grinding herself against Yang’s midriff.
Lilac eyes blew wide open to accompany the deep crimson that bloomed on her cheeks at the revelation. There was no denying the warmth that pressed against her belly anymore, not when she knew what Blake was doing. “U-uh…?” she breathed quietly, indecision gripping her.
Yang chewed on her lips, nervous energy dancing through her body, so, so aware now of how much warmth Blake’s crotch was radiating. She knew what that meant, gods did she know what that meant. Right at the forefront of her mind was the knowledge of just how... aroused her partner was, and Brothers she didn’t know what to do with that information. Hell, she didn’t know what to think about it.
Yang groaned silently, looking away from her best friend in some vain effort to preserve Blake’s modesty, as if looking at the wall would mean she couldn’t feel her hips pumping, grinding the seam of her sweatpants against Yang’s clenching stomach.
Should she wake her up? Gods, that would be so embarassing , though! She could practically see Blake’s amber eyes slipping open, clouded with sleep and lust in equal parts. Realizing what she’d been doing, blushing up a storm and panicking. It would be hilarious, and not a little adorable, but it could set them back weeks on their being-comfortable-with-each-other agenda. They’d be fine , of course, they’d promised to actually talk about these kinds of things (well, not these kinds of things, but that they’d talk about their problems) and against all the odds, Yang absolutely trusted Blake to keep that promise.
But it’d still be awkward. Really awkward, even. There would certainly be no more of this cuddling-in-bed thing Yang loved so much, at least for a while.
Her lips pressed thin, looking down at her partner, gripped with indecision.
Blake’s cheek was pressed flush against Yang’s right breast, glossy lips parted just so to let hot, humid air and that quiet, content rumbling sound slip out. A light dusting of pink colored her cheeks, and past her head, Yang could just barely see that cute butt of hers rocking.
Oh, man, she was so pretty.
Yang’s teeth worried at her bottom lip, breathing tight. Maybe if she just waited, Blake would get it out of her system and stop on her own?
She willfully avoided the thought of what ‘get it out of her system’ probably meant.
And so, Yang relaxed back down onto her pillow, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, her brain producing nothing but unhelpful thoughts that sounded like a million buzzing bees. Doing everything she could to ignore the increasingly-warm pool of heat grinding against her stomach and the occasional soft, happy sound Blake made.
She licked at her lips, fingers digging in just slightly at the soft flesh above Blake’s wide hips, definitely-not encouraging the grinding.
Something electric danced up Blake’s spine, like heat and fire, like the sun. A sudden stimulation too-good to nap through providing the jumpstart to bring her brain back to the land of the living. She was already forgetting the dream she’d been having, but she kept this lingering, soft feeling from it.
It manifested in a lot of places, deep in her chest and back behind her eyes, and it felt like trust and safety. In her arms and her hands like action and protection. Deep in the pit of her stomach, though, it felt like passion, intimacy. And then, along the back of her hips, against the dimples at the small of her back, it felt like...hands?
Blake brushed off the weird sensation as the strange machinations of dreams. She settled down, in that warm place between being asleep and awake, the only idea carrying through clearly a simple but glorious one.
Her throat rumbled, the name slipping out thick with sleep and pleasure as she nuzzled down into her delightfully soft, warm pillow, “...ngh, Yang ...:”
Mm, where was she again? She’d fallen asleep...sharing a bed with Yang? That would explain why she felt so warm, and the smell that permeated her senses, too. Citrus, from her shampoo, then the faint smell of aloe vera from a new body wash Yang had bought when they’d arrived in Atlas. Behind that, faintly, the smell of gunpowder that clung to the soft locks of her hair, and with it fond memories of training and fighting alongside her, of Beacon’s shooting range and of locking arms with her after the Battle of Haven for the first time in far, far too long. Then, somewhere behind that, a purely Yang smell-- sweat, most likely, but hers . It was distinct.
Wait, that didn’t make any sense, she was supposed to be asleep, she shouldn’t be sweating. Blake made a disgruntled sound, rocking her hips idly against the nice, firm something between her legs. If Yang was sweating in her sleep, that meant she was uncomfortably warm, or was having a nightmare. She needed to help.
But she smelled so good , though...
No, she couldn’t-- she had to address that. If either was the case, as much as Blake loved Yang’s scent, Blake wasn’t going to let her be uncomfortable.
Mm, but this felt so nice . She was warm, safe. She could, somewhere far away in a distant corner of her foggy mind, feel Yang’s arms wrapped around her, hugging her close by the small of her back, could feel her nice, hard stomach between her legs providing this wonderful surface to grind herself against, luxuriating in these little sparks of pleasure that danced in her mind-
She couldn’t tell where the dream ended and reality began. Her brows furrowed.
Grinding? She hadn’t been...or had she?
Blake nuzzled down, groaning low in her throat as she felt herself float up into consciousness again, unwillingly losing grip on the warm, fuzzy confines of sleep. Still, Yang’s pillow was wonderfully soft, and it smelled like Yang’s skin. It sounded like her heartbeat too, quick and powerful, steady. Just like Yang. Perfect. Just right.
She smiled fondly, a stuttering breath slipping through her lips as she unconsciously ground her criminally wet crotch against Yang’s stomach, purring at the feeling of her abs clenching under her-
Slowly, her eyes peeled open, eyeing the smooth, bouncy skin her cheek was pressed again.
Oh, that was Yang’s chest, wasn’t it? That’s right, Yang had picked her up and cuddled her like a teddy bear, she remembered that. It’d be tremendously flattering, and had made her heart swell up near to bursting. But if that was her ‘pillow’, then what…
Her cheeks darkened, deeply, until the flush colored her neck and the tops of her breasts with it. Slowly, she looked up. Yang looked back down at her, tan skin nearly crimson as well.
She could feel her, down between her thighs. Warm, warm , pressed right against Blake’s equally hot, needy-
“Oh, Brothers , was I-?” Blake stammered, feeling Yang’s hands at her hips and the wetness currently making her underwear cling to her crotch. Gods, it felt like her panties were ruined .
“Uh,” Yang said, unhelpfully. A pink tongue made an appearance as Yang licked her lips, Blake’s eyes locking onto the movement, something unexpectedly hungry growling within her.
Fuck she was turned on, she was really turned on.
“...yeah…?” Yang continued, after a moment, eyes slipping away, as if she felt guilty admitting it.
Worry danced in front of the burning coals in Blake’s stomach, immediately anxious that Yang was uncomfortable-- and why wouldn’t she be? Blake pressed her hands into the bed, firing herself up off of Yang’s chest to make a bit of distance, though it only exacerbated what was going on between her legs as more of her weight shifted southward. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t mean to- I was asleep, I just-” She forced her mouth shut, knowing she was rambling and that her cheeks were only coloring more as she spoke. She squeaked out a tight, “I’m just, sorry,” and screwed her eyes shut, embarrassment filling every nook and cranny that lust didn’t already occupy.
When Blake opened her eyes several seconds later, she caught Yang staring at her. Those wonderful purple eyes glittered like amethysts and starlight. Yang quickly looked away, blushing at having been caught staring, muttering meekly, “It’s, uh, it’s alright, I…”
She trailed off, and oh by all the stars in the sky Blake was so mortified. She buried her too-hot face into Yang’s collarbone, not caring about much other than hiding her shame, moaning mournfully, “I thought I was dreamiiiiiiiiiing…”
She heard Yang’s mouth open and close, a small, wet sound she probably wouldn’t have heard without the ears atop her head, even as they pinned back in embarrassment.
“You can…” Yang tried, something unsteady in her voice that immediately caught Blake’s attention. She felt and heard Yang suck in a deep breath, her soft chest briefly pressing against Blake’s in a way that did not help how sensitive her body was right now, how hyperaware she was of every single place their bodies touched. Then, Yang forced out, a note to her voice that spoke to just how embarrassed she was to admit this, “I...didn’t, you know...mind.”
Both of Blake’s ears perked up before anything else physically reacted. Then, slowly, her eyes peeked up from her hiding place under Yang’s chin. Yang was staring at the wall of the bunk, cheeks crimson as her sister’s cloak. “...What?” Blake asked, when she had the courage to.
Yang’s fingers drummed against Blake’s hipbones, worrying at the soft skin where her shirt had ridden up, “I...don’t mind.” Then, her tongue peeked out again, those pretty lilac eyes of hers slipping closed before she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it. After a moment, she heaved another nervous sigh and said to the wall, “You don't...have to stop…”
Before Blake could even properly process that , Yang’s eyes snapped open and flicked down, registering the surprise on Blake’s face quickly, nervously backtracking, “I mean, like, if you want- Don’t feel obliged or anything, it’s just I know it can be frustrating to get all, you know, worked up and no get to- to uh...ya know, finish .”
... Oh .
Blake’s brows furrowed. Yang did have a point, she was certainly feeling a little randy , and there was this ache between her legs that just begged for a climax, but it wasn’t anything mind-melting. She was sure she could just ignore it if she tried, or failing that, “...You don’t need to worry, I mean, I can go h-handle myself, you know?” She stuck a thumb back towards the dorm’s bathroom to make her point, having to avert her eyes. The fact that she even had to explain this was mortifying . “You don’t, uh, ‘feel obliged’ either-”
“I don’t!” Yang said, very quickly, too quickly. Her cheeks colored somehow even further-- and did her fingers tighten at Blake’s hips? “Uh, I mean, wait- Was that a question or…?”
There was no way .
“Do you…” Blake said, raising her head an inch trying her best to look her partner in the eyes despite the heat burning under her cheeks and between her legs, her head quirked curiously, “...not want me to stop?”
Yang’s lips pressed into a thin line, and try as Blake might she just wouldn’t meet her gaze. Instead, she seemed to find something tremendously interesting in the wall of the bunk. “I-I mean if you don’t want to- uh, stop, I won’t ask you to…?” She felt Yang’s fingers, worryingly (or perhaps, excitingly) close to her butt, squeezing her hips gently.
Slowly, so as to not startle her, Blake brought one of her hands around to Yang’s cheek. Her skin was soft, so soft, but radiated feverlike heat into Blake’s fingers. She pushed softly, gently urging her to turn and face Blake. When she did, she looked so adorably bashful Blake could have squealed had she not been matching her embarrassment beat for beat. Pushing past it, Blake managed to force the words past her lips, ignoring the way Yang’s wonderful, tight core rolled beneath her as she squirmed under Blake, “Hey, it’s just me, okay? You can tell me anything, I promise. So...do you... like it ...when I do that?”
Yang’s eyes widened, and she glanced away, feigning ignorance, “I, uh, do what?”
Gambling on Yang’s reaction, Blake watched closely and, gently, pumped her hips, trying to ignore the spike of pleasure she felt at the friction.
Yang’s eyebrows shot up and her pupils dilated, and for a second, Blake thought she saw something heart-poundingly hot in her eyes.
“Well?” Blake prompted, a hope she barely dared to hold taking root deep inside of her.
“I, uh, I mean it’s fine,” Yang glanced away again, and Blake took a quick moment to feel offended at the fact that Yang was embarrassed about something Blake had done.
Yang still wasn’t meeting her gaze, but a fine sweat beaded on her forehead, and this rose-tinted color lingered on her face and cheeks. Straining her ears, Blake could also make out the tightness of her breath, panting in and out as she sucked in air.
She took another gamble.
Leaning down a bit further, she settled a bit more of her weight onto Yang’s body, took a second to bask in the waves of low heat that rolled from her broad frame. When she spoke, it was breathy and only a note above a whisper, a part of her too scared of her words to dare speak them louder. Nevertheless, they were the truth, “Cause I like it.”
That got Yang’s attention, her eyes snapping down like Blake had just admitted she had been working for Salem this whole time.
She bit her lip. Her cheeks were burning, and she probably looked like a tomato in a wig, but if Yang wasn’t going to say how she felt, it was up to Blake. “I, ah, like it a lot, actually, but...I-I mean, you could probably tell.”
Yang’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, eyes now wide and fixed securely on Blake’s face, open and unmasked. There was shock there, surprise, but not necessarily the negative form of either, “R-really?”
She didn’t realize she’d moved her hand until she felt it press into Yang’s ribs just underneath the swell of her breasts. She wasn’t going to complain though, or pull her hand away, as the feeling of Yang’s muscles reacting to her touch, flexing and quivering like Blake’s fingers arced electricity, was so very basically amusing that she couldn’t find it in her to stop. “You’ve got...very nice abs,” Blake concluded, her thighs unconsciously tightening around her partner’s torso.
Yang’s hands tightened at Blake’s hips, and Blake felt her breathing deepen, becoming heavy.
Were they really going to-
It was at that moment the cold water of reality was dumped onto Blake’s shoulders, a revelation bursting to the forefront of her mind, “Oh, wait, damn it, Ruby and Weiss-- They’ll be back any minute.” She pushed herself up an inch, a sudden glance cast to the door of the dorm like it would snap open at that very second.
Only, she felt Yang’s fingers tighten further, something that sounded nervous but excited in her voice. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, and it rushed over Blake’s ears, warm and humid. A shutter danced down her spine, that place deep in her gut burned like she’d swallowed coals. “We’ve got time.”
Gods her voice was so low, hungry , like a lion’s purr. Blake loved it when Yang spoke softly, when she said things like that, deep and hungry. It sounded - counterintuitively - safe . She sounded like a predator, like a lion or a cheetah, which should by rights sound threatening, but resonated like safety in Blake’s heart. Thinking on it, Blake supposed that even if Yang was a predator, Blake wasn’t her prey so much as another predator.
Maybe not like a lion or a cheetah then, maybe Yang just sounded like what she was - A Huntress . And Blake, her Partner.
Blake chewed her bottom lip, looking up at her lover. Yang’s eyes caught the midafternoon light, glowing like lavender gilded in gold. Her pupils, though, were blown wide, and this close, Blake could just barely see the faintests ghost of freckles that decorated the bridge of Yang’s nose, so faint you could only see them when you were close enough to kiss her.
Yang must have seen her look at her lips, because in the next second Yang was flexing those wonderful biceps of hers, tugging Blake up, and Blake couldn’t press her lips to Yang’s fast enough.
Yang’s lips were always soft, like ripe peaches, and her lip balm had the taste to match. So soft, warm, moving with a gentle avarice against Blake’s, like Yang was starving but was embarrassed to show it.
They’d kissed before, but not like this. The softness was familiar, but there was this pushing -- the way Yang kissed her had this deep hunger to it that seemed to draw Blake in, make her even more desperate for her partner. For every touch, every breath, everything she could get. She needed it, and she needed it more than air or water. Yang made a little sound against her lips, a quiet little, ‘nnh,’ Blake had never heard before.
Something in her chest shuddered, burned like the heart of a star. It seemed to melt everything in Blake, curling around her bones and her skin, boiling hot and filled with the golden heat. She needed action, needed to move, needed... friction .
Her fingers fisted in Yang’s collar, and she pressed down with her hips and rocked forward.
She moaned into Yang’s lips as heat fired through her body, eyebrows turning up when Yang gasped against her lips. It broke their kiss, but Blake found she couldn’t think of anything else but more contact, more touch. She rocked her hips again, canting them forward forward to try and get some friction on her clit while she pressed in, cheek brushing against Yang’s and teeth nipping at the tender skin at the curve of Yang’s jaw.
Yang gasped again, stuttering, and her back arched. Blake groaned, for a second she could feel every single ab on Yang’s toned midsection through the fabric of her sweatpants, and Yang moaned, “ Gods , Blake!”
It was dirty, filthy. They’d never had sex before, never been this phsyically intimate. She wasn’t sure if this counted as sex, if this was their first time or not, but it was undoubtedly sexual . She’d never, Yang had never seen her like this. Seen this side of her. A part of her worried what Yang would think, she’d always kept her sex drive under lock-and-key for propriety’s sake. It was so contrary to her aloof, detached persona she hid behind-
Except, she wasn’t hiding behind that persona anymore.
Blake breathed in deeply, the smell of Yang’s sweat and shampoo and body wash all mixing together into this lovely cocktail of safety and love and passion and- “I-is it- is this too much?” she asked, breathily, against Yang’s ear.
Blake could feel Yang’s stomach clench between her thighs, “N-no! Brothers, more, baby, this is- ngh. ”
That’s right, this was Yang . She trusted Yang. Trusted her with everything, with her life. Even trusted her to see this side of Blake.
The beautiful part? Yang wasn’t even getting anything from this. Not really, not directly. No pleasure, she was just holding still and letting Blake grind on her. Blake would have felt guilty about it if Yang wasn’t so openly enjoying it. She fell into a sort of rhythm, pressing down and pumping her hips forward against Yang’s stomach with the power of her own along with her thighs, before pushing back and repeating the motion, rutting in the way that came naturally.
Blake nipped at her earlobe in thanks, confession slipping out in a husk without her meaning to admit it, “I love it when you call me that.”
Yang’s fingers dug into her hips, pulling her along with every upward tug. Blake’s brows furrowed as she panted hot, humid air against Yang’s neck, kissing a trail from her ear down to her throat.
“Baby?” Yang asked, chin turning up to give Blake access. That movement appealed to something low and primal in Blake, something wild and free. It meant trust , to let someone against your throat, to give someone an easy path to kill you and simply trust that they wanted to give nothing but affection. It meant a lot coming from Yang, who Blake knew had been hurt far too many times by people she’d trusted.
It almost made her cry, but instead she let it fuel that strange glowing feeling in her chest, let it make the taste of Yang’s skin all the sweeter.
“Yeah,” she whined, pressing a burning kiss against Yang’s jugular, feeling her blood pulse and thrum under her lips, teeth nipping gently there too. Yang’s heartbeat was so lovely, her skin was so warm.
Her heart spoke to the strength that filled the rest of her body, the compassion and the power that went hand in hand. Blake had seen Yang kill a Beowolf with her bare hands once. She could use that brawn to get her way in nearly any situation, but she didn’t. She used it to help people, to protect them.
To help Blake. To protect her.
Just like Blake used her own strength to protect Yang.
She breathed in again, deeply, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to every bit of Yang’s skin she could reach, hips pumping as she ground her cunt against Yang’s trunk, singing a song for every core-based exercise Yang had in her regimen.
“Gods you feel so good,” Blake found herself groaning, sweat beading on her forehead and making her bangs stick messily. Her fingers tightened in the collar of Yang’s shirt, and she tugged her head up to catch Yang’s eyes. Her pupils were wide open, dark and burning like fresh obsidian, and she looked at Blake as if she’d just sprouted Angel’s wings.
The room still smelled like Yang even when she wasn’t nose-deep in Yang’s throat. It clung to the air, thick with heat and sweat, and a smell that a part of Blake devoutly believed was arousal. “Can I-” she stopped as a particularly electric thrust sent sparks dancing before her eyes and sent her stomach aflutter, “- can I touch you?”
Yang laughed - laughed! - head rocking back against the pillows. She chewed on her lip for a second, and Blake watched the motion, suddenly wanting to kiss those soft, beautiful lips again. When Yang responded, it was with naked hunger in her voice, a hunger that made Blake wish desperately that she wasn’t wearing the pants she had on, “ Please , baby.”
Blake whined, leaping at the permission. One of the hands that held Yang’s collar went down, sliding over the smooth cotton shirt Yang wore, up over the curve of one of her breasts with a featherlight touch. Yang wasn’t wearing a bra, hadn’t put one on after her shower on account of it being self-declared ‘lazy time’. Even with as light a touch as Blake used she could feel her nipple, pebbled hard enough to cut glass, poking through her shirt. Just another sign of how much she was enjoying this, just another sign of how she was feeding off of Blake’s pleasure.
The touch, though barely even making contact, was more audacious than any Blake had attempted before. She’d felt Yang’s boobs in the past, in passing. It was impossible not to with as close as they’d been at Beacon and with Yang’s propensity for sudden surprise bear-hugs, but never intentionally. Never with her hand, never cupping, feeling.
Blake pressed down, kneading the soft flesh like a ball of dough. It was softer than Blake’s own, but with a wonderful heft that, on one hand, made Blake sympathize with her partner’s poor back, but on the other had her purring and burying her nose in Yang’s throat again. Breathing deeply, laying hot kisses, listening as Yang moaned and arched her back to press herself into Blake’s hand.
She kneaded Yang affectionately, lithe fingers searching again for her nipple through the loose-fitting shirt to share some love with it, breathing Yang’s scent and rutting against her hard, tight core, doing her best to reciprocate with her fingers and her teeth. “I love these things,” she found herself growling, hips canting forwards to get a new angle and feeling the pleasure rumble through her body, higher and higher.
“I love your hands,” Yang countered, panting harshly. Her fingers dug in, sliding under the hem of her shirt and the waist of her sweats to touch Blake’s heated skin directly. She could feel her hands - one soft but callused, the other firm and smooth - feel her fingers fitting neatly into the dimples of her hips, urging her forward.
“Damnit,” Blake hissed, halting her grinding for a moment so could sit up on Yang’s stomach, her own hands flying down to grab ahold of the front of Yang’s shirt, “Can I- Can I pull this up?”
Yang’s pupils threatened to consume what little purple remained in her eyes, so dark and wide were they. “As high as you want, Blakey.”
Blake didn’t wait, frantically tugging the shirt up to reveal the smooth, lightly tanned skin beneath. She paused in her heat to simply marvel at Yang’s body, the hem of her shirt crumpled up just below her ribs. Her stomach was smooth, toned beyond belief, six defined abs breaking the smooth plane. Below, hidden beyond Blake’s own hips, she knew a defined v-line lay that carved it’s way down under the hem of Yang’s pants. Blake wanted to trace every single one of those lines with her fingers, which she did. Splaying her both her hands out over Yang’s midriff, fingers feeling the burning skin and eyes wide with awe. She’d waited years to touch these, thought about ever since she'd realized she was attracted to Yang. They were firm, slightly pliant under her fingers but tough and stiff when she pressed in any more than slightly. At her touch, the muscles hidden beneath the skin squirmed, flexed, and Yang let out this wonderful little gasp that had Blake’s cunt weeping.
Blake bit her lip, sitting up the rest of the way so all of her weight was on those beautiful muscles, straddling Yang’s now-bare stomach, and began to grind herself down onto them again. The new angle let her get more downwards force, and the unexpected movement had the owner of said midriff gasping again. “Oh, you know when y-you said you were gonna pull up my shirt, I thought you had your sights set on the girls,” she said with a snicker that was abruptly cut off by another sharp gasp.
Blake found herself laughing too, a bit light-headed, “I did , I got...distracted.” With that said, Blake still didn’t alter her course, didn’t move her eyes. Another electric grind of her hips had her desperately wishing she could shed her pants without having to stop what she was doing. Her hand stayed put, splayed out over Yang's abs, and she squeezed her fingers, just a little. The muscles jumped at the movement, and for a second Yang’s abs were as hard as marble . It was perfect, like a washboard between her legs, and Blake whined, her rhythm accelerating and a whine vibrating in her throat. She wanted to trace every godsdamned line of Yang’s abs with her tongue one day, trace them down one-by-one. The line of her obliques too, down her v-line, then lower, lower , until she had Yang's thighs warming her ears. Then, she'd make Yang sing.
But first, she wanted to finish. She wanted to cum on Yang’s abs, from Yang’s abs.
The thought danced through her mind as her thighs quivered on either side of her partner's trunk. It was wonderful, intoxicating, beautiful and hotter than the sun in the middle of July.
Heat hung between them, sweat was beginning to bead on Yang’s stomach and had long since caused Blake’s almost-dry hair to dampen again. Her mouth hung slack to let harsh, open-mouthed pants slip out.
Yang’s hands pulled down for more pressure, resting back against her pillow but anything but idle. Her legs shifted somewhere behind Blake’s butt, her thighs coming up to offer their support as well. Dragging her heat along Yang’s abs, rocking, panting, Blake glanced up.
Yang’s eyes were on her. Nowhere else, unmoving. So focused, so much heat and hunger in them. She wanted to watch, Blake dimly realized. Yang wanted to watch her cum, wanted to watch her finish all over her. Wanted to watch Blake bump and grind herself onto her body until she broke . Those soft lips of hers were open, panting alongside Blake. She wasn't receiving anything from this, but it still made her excited . She liked that this was happening, liked what Blake was doing. Liked watching Blake come apart on her body.
Blake’s ears flicked excitedly atop her head, and she watched Yang watch her, never ceasing the motion at the point they connected, aided by Yang’s hands..
Yang braced her feet into the sheets, and used that leverage to raise her own hips just an inch or two, just enough to press into Blake’s pussy through the layer of cloth separating them, just enough so that Blake could feel every fucking ridge of Yang’s abs, flexing into that washboard-perfect way she had earlier.
“ Ngh! ” Blake grunted, speeding up, “Do-do that again!” one hand staying braced on her lover’s stomach and the other suddenly pushing Yang’s shirt up to her collar, eyes devouring the fresh sight. Belatedly, Blake realized this was the first time she’d actually looked at Yang topless. Her bare chest was large and full, sagging slightly to the sides under their own weight but begging for the support of Blake's hands with it. Had Yang not had so fucking many wonderful features to compete with them, Blake would have worried she'd tunnel-vision.
Yang was beautiful, every godsdamned inch of her, and one of her hands found its place on Yang’s right breast, kneading it roughly and listening to the low growl that slipped from Yang's throat at her ministrations, giving love and attention to the breast she’d neglected earlier. Her other hand stayed right where it was, her fingers fit neatly into the shallow ridges of her lover's abs, feeling every quake and quiver to match the ones running through her thighs.
In response, Yang flexed her stomach again, and for a brief second the surface was perfect . Drawing her hips back for another pass, Blake asked - begged, almost - Yang, “Can you - damnit - can you h-hold it like that? Until I f-finish? Just like that, just- fuck .”
Worry flashed in Yang’s eyes, and Blake was only barely cognizant enough to see it. Not abject fear, but an internal worry strong enough for Blake to realize how unreasonable it was to ask Yang to basically hold a reverse plank with no leverage - with Blake sitting on her and actively grinding down no less - long enough for Blake to finish.
But then, her eyes steeled , “Yeah, yeah I can.”
Blake chewed on her lip, “I’m s-sorry, you don’t have-”
She was cut off with a gasp as Yang did it again, the muscles of her core standing out in stark relief as she pushed .
And in her eyes, there was this fire , it glowed, matched the hot, melty feeling Blake felt pooling deep in her gut. Yang had something to prove, “ I can do it .”
It was so fucking hot .
Blake whined, a part of her tipping over to her inherent feline side, and she pumped her hips, dragging her wet heat roughly over the quivering expanse of Yang’s abs, canting her hips to make contact with her clit. It was swollen, needy, and just like the rest of her it needed Yang.
The friction was wonderful, the idea of what she was doing was so twice-damned hot it blurred her thoughts, but the sight .
Brothers, Maidens, the sight -
Yang’s fingers clenched, pulled Blake tightly against her stomach, making sure there wasn’t a second where Blake’s pussy couldn’t feel her. Crimson was bleeding into her eyes and her hair had begun to glow. Through the seam of her - now thoroughly soaked-through - sweatpants, Blake could feel her skin heating up, could feel the steel of her muscles quivering with strain but also with newfound strength.
It was beautiful.
She was beautiful.
Blake’s ears stood on end, and with one rough pump of her hips she whined high. Her fingers dug roughly into the soft flesh of Yang’s breast, too lost to do anything but roughly knead it. Her other hand splayed out over her burning, shaking stomach. She breathed deeply, heavily, and could smell Yang’s scent mingling with her own. Sweat and shampoo and gunpowder and citrus and arousal and heat. It was all Yang, everything was Yang. She could smell her, sweat beading on her skin and filling Blake’s mind.
Desperate, needing more, she dipped down, once more tucking her head under Yang’s chin, fingers kneading and loving every inch of flesh they could reach and lips working against Yang’s throat, enamoured. Yang’s skin tasted salty, tasted sweet, tasted like everything Blake wanted. “T-talk to me,” she gasped, desperate against her, hips rocking and grinding her pussy across Yang’s quivering stomach, thighs shakingly clenching onto her obliques.
Yang’s hands tightened further on her hips, threatened to bruise Blake’s skin, and her nose dug into Blake’s hair, her hot breath puffing over her ears, “You’re so good.” Her voice was tight with strain but fueled with the passion they shared, “You’re so good for me baby, I feel like I’m on fire”
Blake whined into her throat, her clit throbbing and begging for attention. Blake obliged, Yang obliged.
“M-my name,” she gasped, so close , “I know I said- just please Yang, my-”
“ Blake, ” she breathed, lowly against her ears, “I love saying your name, Blakey. I love the way you feel, I love seeing you like this. You’re so fucking pretty it hurts.”
Blake put every drop of the fire, the lust, the passion she felt into her voice, “ Yang!”
She felt the shudder that ran through Yang’s body, felt the way her fingers tightened and her breath deepened.
Blake couldn’t take it anymore. Acting wholly on instinct, her teeth found Yang’s pulse, biting in with force and rolled her hips harder, until her abs and thighs burned with the effort.
“Ngh!” Yang choked at the unexpected bite, but one of her hands fired up to cradle Blake’s head against her throat. Blake’s heart soared . “Are you going to...are you about to finish?” she asked, her voice a quiet, strained, but comforting rumble.
It was all Blake could hear.
She nodded sharply, not releasing the flesh in her teeth, breath coming out in pants in time with her hips. She whined out a simple, high, “ Mm-hmm... ”
A steel hand slipped down under the hem of her sweatpants to dig into the soft flesh of her ass audaciously. Her fingers touched the soft cloth at the seat of Blake’s underwear, curled into the bare flesh there, and all Blake could think about was giving Yang more of her body to touch and feel and fuck . Even as selfish as groping someone could be, Yang used her new grip to pull Blake’s body up and down, to encourage her grinding, flesh curling into her hair and scratching comfortingly at her scalp. Giving, giving , even as she took and enjoyed Blake’s body, giving .
“Can I watch?” Yang asked softly, both hands tightening in their places.
It was such a silly thing, to ask that. As if she could do anything else if Blake said ‘no.’
But Blake wanted to give her permission anyway. She wanted Yang to watch.
She whined again, jaw tightening until she could feel Yang’ aura burning under her teeth. Her semblance fed off of the pain, and Blake felt her abs tighten with newfound strength against her cunt, felt the skin under her fingers begin to burn. “Mm-hmm-!”
She was so close, so fucking close . Every touch was lightning, every sense focused.
The taste of Yang’s skin and sweat on her tongue, her wonderful scent in her nose. The sound of her breath and voice in her ears, the touch of her feverish skin meeting all over Blake’s body, Yang’s fingers curling into her hair and the soft, pliable flesh of her rear, Yang’s muscles quivering under Blake’s hands and cunt.
Five sense, Taste, Smell, Hearing, Touch, all focused to a razor’s edge, all honed in on nothing but the woman under her-
“Break for me,” Yang panted, right against her ear.
She passed a precipice, her hips stuttering in their rhythm and her eyebrows turning up-
Yang was watching her. She knew it. Her eyes were wide and awed, fixed on Blake. Her arms hugged Blake to her. She would feel everything, feel Blake finish, feel every tremor and quake, see it all. Blake was spread out before Yang like an open book-
-And she came .
Oh, by the gods she came.
It was like every cell in her body sung, like the whole world exploded into white, like every drop of aura in her body suddenly drained out of her cunt.
For several seconds - several years - Blake hung in the clouds, every muscle in her body tight and quivering as Yang’s stomach, every thought filled with nothing but the woman between her legs.
When she finally came down, every muscle in both of their bodies went slack. Yang’s butt thump’d back into the sheets, and Blake went limp like a puppet with her strings cut onto Yang, her cheek pressed deliriously against the soft curve of Yang’s right breast, hot, tight breaths panting over it. Her nose nuzzled between them to bump against Yang's sternum so every breath smelled like nothing but her. Yang helped by wrapping her arms around Blake's feverish body, clutching her close enough that she could feel the pounding of Blake's heart.
Yang was the first to speak, her voice delirious to match the thick cotton static in Blake's head, "You came on me." She said it softly, like a prayer, like she could scarcely believe it. “You- you- Brothers .”
It was all Blake could muster to nod wordlessly into Yang's chest, panting harshly and waiting for the World to become clear again.
Yang's hands tightened against her back, and she felt her lips in the hair between her ears, "You were so pretty, baby, you sounded so beautiful."
Blake could have cried.
For a time, they simply lay there, in a weird one-sided but nonetheless mutual afterglow. Eventually, the world faded slowly back into focus, and Blake began to shift in Yang's arms.
Yang made a movement as well, her stomach clenching between Blake's thighs and a gasp sucking past her lips, “Oh brothers, I am going to feel that tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Blake breathed, couldn’t think of anything else, “thank you,” she kissed the breast against her face once, twice, “thank you, thank you, thank you!” She kissed her way up Yang’s collar, over her throat and to her lips to kiss with every drop of affection the lovely afterglow in her veins could muster.
Yang giggled, the sound like birdsong to Blake. She didn’t care about the wet mess they’d made of the front of Blake’s sweats - she’d certainly need to change, if not throw these away entirely and get a new pair - didn’t care of the sticky sweat that clung to their bodies, or the stifling heat that lingered between them. All Blake cared about was her partner. She found herself laughing too, a touch deliriously, “I can't believe we did that.”
Yang’s grin was blinding, but there was something lingering behind it, something heavy and hot, “Are you complaining, baby ?”
Blake couldn’t help but snort, even as she cuddled a little closer to Yang, hungry for the contact, the affection. The word sounded silly outside of a sexual context but she hadn’t exactly lied about liking when Yang said it, cliche as it was. “Oh, definitely not."
When Yang spoke, Blake could hear the grin in her voice, "You were so pretty, babe." Her fingers moved up from Blake's hips, rubbing into her back affectionately, "You can cum on me whenever you want, if you're gonna look like that when you do."
It was awful , Blake couldn't even begin to comprehend how much teasing ammo this afternoon had given Yang. Still, the prospect of doing that again was- well, it was hardly uninviting. In fact...
"It was amazing, but I do have one complaint,” Blake said with a wry smile, raising her head to meet Yang's gaze directly.
“Oh?” Yang said, kind eyes dark with desire, “And what would that be?”
Blake felt her lips pulling back, a thrill surging through her as she bared her teeth, “You haven’t had your turn yet.“ This was new, very new territory. She couldn’t wait to explore it with Yang. Find out everything Yang liked, show her everything Blake liked. She wanted to learn Yang's body as well as she’d learned her heart. Wanted to know everything there was to know about Yang, become an expert in her. More than anything right now though, Blake wanted one specific thing. She started to worm her way down, slipping lower slowly as Yang watched, a dark blush coloring her cheeks as she caught on to what Blake was implying.
“Oh, holy-” Yang gasped as Blake kissed a path down, through the valley of her breasts, heart affixed on one sole goal.
Her lips were sanguine and sweet on Yang’s skin, tongue tasting Yang’s sweat as she tracked hot, open-mouthed and sloppy kisses down over her partner’s skin, a whispered promise, “I can’t wait to taste you-”
The door opened.
Yang’s eyes blew wide, and Blake fired her semblance, shooting like a bolt of lightning back up to yank Yang’s top down before Ruby or Weiss could walk through the door. Thinking quickly, she snapped down and tucked her head under Yang’s chin again and closed her eyes, forcing her breathing to be slow and even as if she was asleep, despite the pounding rhythm of her heart.
Yang caught on quickly but could do nothing for the deep blush on her cheeks.
Weiss stared at them for a too-long moment as Yang madde a sheepish ‘shush’ sign with a single finger to her lips, further trying to sell the fib that they had merely been napping innocently together.
Ruby averted her eyes quickly, turning on a heel and marching with wooden-soldier stiffness into the bathroom.
If Weiss saw through the ruse, she played along by rolling her eyes and marching silently over to her own bunk to sit down and take off her boots.
With no eyes on them, Yang craned her neck to whisper into one of Blake’s feline ears, “I think we fooled them.”
Blake had no such conveniently silent method of speaking, so instead she pressed a smouldering kiss against the closest patch of bare skin she could reach. She felt Yang’s heart jump at the unexpected kiss, and couldn’t help the toothy grin on her lips as she mouthed silently, ‘ next time’ against Yang’s throat, pressing her tongue to her pulse to seal her promise and remove any ambiguity of meaning.
Yang's blush deeped, furiously.
But she smiled.
She couldn't wait to explore this new side of their relationship either.
The next day:
Ruby grimaced, “You really think that’s gonna work?”
Weiss harrumphed, fiddling with the tape on the wall, “Your sister is an idiot, but she isn’t illiterate, you doof.”
Ruby ran her fingers through the hair at the back of her head, shuffling on her feet awkwardly and looking at the product of Wiess’s plan, “It’s not the reading I’m worried about, it’s the listening.”
Weiss nodded, stepping back to appraise the quality of her work, “I’m betting on the embarrassment factor to be enough.”
Ruby nodded slowly, she could see how that might work. “Yeah, well, with any luck we won’t ever know if it worked or not.”
Weiss stroked her chin, reading over the sign slowly, making sure it was exactly as she wanted it. “Quite.”
That same day, after slipping away from afternoon training early:
Yang’s face was buried in her hands, blush glowing bright enough that Blake could see it as far back as her ears.
Blake shook her head slowly, “I’ve gotta give them credit for audacity, at the very least.”
Yang said nothing but a low, pathetic groan, embarrassment coloring every cell of her being.
Blake nodded in agreement, her own cheeks burning brightly. It was more than a little humiliating, “I guess we weren’t as subtle as we thought.
In front of them, taped to the wall opposite the bunks, was a simple paper sign bold black marker spelling out a simple rule:
NO SEX ALLOWED IN THE DORM
EXCEPT WHEN WE ARE OFF CAMPUS
-R & W
Blake shrugged through her own embarrassment, “I mean, it could be worse. At least they gave us permission to do it when they’re out on missions and stuff.”
Yang screamed into her hands, mortified beyond all reason.
Blake nodded alongside her partner, consoling her with a slow pat on the back, “Same, Yang. Same.”