Disclaimer: Rated for slight NSFW elements towards the end. Nothing explicit.
Winter trudged up the steps, rolling her neck once to try and relieve the tension building across her shoulders as a migraine pounded behind her eyes. A three week stint aboard a cramped transport, jumping out to deal with packs of Beowolves and Ursas, only to jump right back on because they couldn't afford to waste time with landing and takeoff- it wore down even her considerable stamina and endurance, putting a grimace on her features as her knees nearly buckled on the last step. She'd taken enough hits that her aura had quite nearly broken a time or two, and though it felt on the mend now, she didn't trust her reserves enough to will away the lingering aches and pains locking up her muscles. Lack of sleep and weeks of ready-to-eat meals had put her in a foul mood, to the point that no one even bothered to remind her about filing her after action review with the Commander, who was wise enough not to press the matter either.
At that moment, all she wanted to do was drop her bag just inside the door and fall into the nearest flat surface available- she hoped she could make it as far as the couch, but the floor would do, seeing as they had top notch carpeting just past the foyer.
But, honestly, she didn't even have the strength to complain about the tile, either.
Winter reached forward, aiming for the door handle and belatedly realizing she hadn't even the faintest idea where her keys might be, but found the motion interrupted when the solid wood seemingly moved of its own accord. She blinked, bleary eyes taking a moment to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light from within before a figure blocked her way.
"Snowdrift?" She turned her head, only now aware how far she was slumping over when her gaze met bright lilac eyes on level with her own. "They said your plane wouldn't land for another two hours!"
"You aren't supposed to know when it lands at all." She grumbled, trying to straighten up and wincing at the ache in her back. "That information-"
"Is classified, yeah yeah, heard it before." Yang laughed, the sound as happy as ever and loud enough to grate on the woman's nerves. Three weeks of the dull droning of engines hadn't done her hearing much favors, and interspersing that with gunfire and Grimm death cries didn't help. "Let's just say I'm charming. I was going to meet you at the gates but I guess this saves me a trip!"
"Yang, please talk quieter," she said, stumbling forward slightly and biting back a harsh order as the blonde moved out of her way a little slower than she would've appreciated. In the back of her mind, she tried to remember that her frustration stemmed from lack of proper rest and nutrition, that her wife wasn't intentionally trying to keep her from her goal, but that voice sounded very quiet compared to the annoyance flaring as Yang reached in front of her to grab the bag.
"Oh, sorry, babe. Here, let me get that-"
"I can carry it myself-"
"I know, but I can help-"
"Yang." She barked, narrowing her eyes and trying to intimidate the other woman into moving out of her way, just as she did with the Atlesian and Valen soldiers at the small base. Only belatedly did she realize what she'd done, shaking her head and dropping the bag altogether. "Just leave it alone."
Putting up both hands in surrender, her wife didn't try to stop her as she stalked away, reaching the carpet and realizing she hadn't even taken off her jacket or boots yet. Winter mentally groaned at the thought of turning around to fix that but did regardless, managing a single step before she faltered, her leg giving out beneath her.
She tried to catch herself but lack of energy made her reactions slow, lethargy leeching her normal abilities away to nothingness. She would've landed face first on the tile had her wife not quickly stepped in, an arm around her shoulders and waist lowering her to the ground gently.
"Did ya mean to do that?"
Exhaustion had pushed her to the breaking point but Yang's voice managed to snap her last nerve. "Yes, obviously, I thought the tile would be a nice place to take a nap." Struggling to stand under her own power, she ignored her wife's sigh and instead weakly pushed at the arms around her. "Now let me go."
"You're always such a grumpy gus when you come back from missions like these," the blonde said, ignoring her request entirely and hefting the woman into her arms, standing up with all the difficulty most people experienced when blinking. "You're cranky, you're stubborn, and you're full of sass."
"Pardon me for being so predictable." Winter shot back, groaning as the world swam around her, her head pounding even harder as she was carried over to the couch and deposited there. She closed her eyes, already feeling the combined weight of the past three weeks forcing her into slumber. "Just leave me be."
"Don't be like that." With careful movements, Yang worked the buttons and clasps on the woman's uniform, every clink of buckles being pulled open prompting a wince. "Now roll onto your stomach."
With a groan of protest, she complied, hissing as her muscles vehemently objected to the idea of moving again after being granted the rest she desperately needed. Still, when she found herself face down on the couch, her wife went about peeling her coat and boots off as carefully as she could.
"You smell awful, by the way." The blonde pointed out, gathering up the coat and boots before retreating somewhere beyond Winter's immediate area.
The woman could only respond with a low grunt, highly aware that her personal hygiene had been severely lacking in recent weeks and not particularly inclined to drag herself into a shower or bath just yet. In fact, the very idea of moving sent spasms running through her muscles and she had little choice but to lie there, still lying with her face in the cushions and on the verge of falling into a deep slumber. Just a nap, then she would set about taking proper care of herself.
"Are you really just going to pass out on the couch like that?"
"Yes," she replied, the single word muffled by the leather of the couch.
"I could carry you up to the bed. It'll be more comfortable."
Normally, that would be a request she'd take up in an instant, consistently enamored with the very idea of being carried by her strong, loving wife, especially knowing that the blonde wouldn't pass up an opportunity to sneak in a kiss or five. But with the exhaustion from the mission making any sort of movement seem like hell, and a distinct desire to be away from others after being packed close together like a can of sardines with soldiers she didn't know nearly as well, Winter found words leaving her lips without bothering to wait for the go ahead from her brain.
"Don't touch me."
Silence followed her words and, while she could admit there were at least two dozen nicer ways of conveying the message, she couldn't be entirely regretful that she'd said them at present. Her head still pounded and her body ached, the quiet already doing her worlds of good as she slipped back towards unconsciousness. A little bit of guilt nagged at the back of her mind and nipped at her heart though- Yang was only trying to be helpful and she'd been rather rude in return- and she forced herself to roll over with a low, pained grunt as the muscles in her side protested the movement, ready to apologize and clearly communicate what she'd meant. However, when she pried her eyes open, her wife had already left the room, likely washing her hands of the soldier for the time being; it should probably embarrass her that she behaved so poorly after returning from long missions but that would be a problem she'd have to fix in the future, slumping back down onto the couch and closing her eyes, trying to will away her headache. Her stomach growled, demanding to be the first need she attended to, but that would require going to the kitchen and even something as simple as assembling a sandwich seemed too labor intensive a task at present.
As soon as she woke up, she'd apologize to Yang and fix herself something to eat.
"Polly, set alarm," she said, voice thick as she struggled to stay awake.
From somewhere overhead, a disembodied voice rang out, making her cringe from the volume. "State time please!"
"Eighteen hundred hours."
"Alarm set! Anything else?"
"Negative, Polly." A sigh slipped passed her lips, the belated thought that she should probably order some flowers or something as an apology, but that would be a touch too insincere for her tastes. Winter was many things but blind to her own single minded tendencies didn't appear on the that list. She would need to address the issue first thing when she awoke.
She just hoped Yang wouldn't hold it against her too much.
Winter awoke to the alarm, groaning slightly. She expected her neck to be stiff or for a shiver to wake her long before Polly did, but neither occurred and it immediately sent a fierce pang of guilt stabbing into her chest. Sometime after she'd passed out, Yang had brought a blanket to lay over her and had put a pillow beneath her head, saving her from two of the unfortunate consequences sleeping on the couch brought with it. And when she sat up, she noted the covered plate set on the coffee table, with a knife and fork resting atop it, a sure sign that her wife had cooked dinner and left some for her. With a wince, she lifted the cover and immediately felt her stomach rumble at the blast of heat brought with it sweet aromas of well cooked pork, red potatoes, and warmed sauerkraut.
"Oh, Sundrop." She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. Although the memory remained fuzzy in the back of her mind, she distinctly remembered that she would need to apologize when she awoke. As she looked around and noticed the darkened lights in the kitchen and dining room, the only source of lights coming from an end table on the other side of the room, and the lack of sound elsewhere on the floor pointed to her dining alone. "Polly, bring up the lights."
"Right away!"
As the room brightened, Winter set about digging into the food while her memory came back. She cringed around a mouthful of food several times as she remembered how curt and awful she'd been upon coming home and how her wife had put up with her bad attitude.
Eventually, she had to set down her fork and knife, put her head in both hands, and groan.
"I… I really fucked up this time." She'd known her tendency for being short with people when she was terribly tired but she had no right to act like that, especially with Yang. And the woman had been so patient with her, too!
Not wanting to be further disrespectful and put her wife's cooking to waste, Winter finished the meal and took it to the kitchen, washing off the plate and silverware before setting them in the sink. It looked like Yang had cleaned up after cooking, so leaving the dishes in the sink seemed like a big move in the wrong direction. She thought about grabbing a bottle of wine as a sort of peace offering but that wouldn't work for the blonde; she rarely drank, and preferred beer to wine when it wasn't a special occasion.
Carefully, Winter proceeded upstairs, entirely prepared to receive the cold shoulder from her wife as retribution for her behavior. Some part of her couldn't believe she'd actually snapped at the woman- really, she could be so frigid and unyielding sometimes, and that wasn't even a pun- but she needed to test the waters and see how she could possibly apologize.
The second floor of the house was just as dark as downstairs, save for a sliver of light coming from beneath the doorway of the master bedroom.
Taking a deep breath, she went to the door and tried turning the handle, but the lock held fast, barring her entry.
"Well… I deserve that," she said- rather, she muttered it, mentally kicking herself for being so shortsighted. With a shake of her head, she considered her next option.
Yang was the vocal one, most of the time. She spoke her mind often and only held her tongue when deeply troubled- something that came out much easier in her body language than any words she might offer. In a way, being denied the ability to see the woman could mean that she didn't want Winter to cheat, watching microexpressions to figure out how to best phrase her apology. A fair punishment.
"Yang? May I come in?"
"Not right now," the woman replied, her focused and somewhat subdued tone causing Winter to wince.
In hindsight, she probably should've expected that.
"Very well," she said, then turned around and went to the guest bedroom down the hall. They were talking about moving the furniture out and turning it into a nursery, seeing as they had more than enough room and the desire for kids had grown in both of them. They'd talked it over but were waiting until Winter could get a more permanent reassignment to a stable desk job instead of these stints on long missions.
Regardless, it seemed as good a place as any to bed down for the night, close enough that she could still run to the bedroom if needed. It wasn't common but, on those nights when the past seemed to be nipping at her heels, Yang would have nightmares, and she did her best to calm the woman when they came.
Sitting on the bed, Winter put her face in her hands again and started formulating her apology as best she could.
She shouldn't have snapped the way she did. Tired or not, Yang hadn't necessarily had it easy while she was away but she'd done everything in her power to make things easier for the weary woman.
Accepting her wife's assistance- that's what she should've done, obviously. How could she possibly be so shortsighted as to give sarcastic replies to someone doing their very best to help as effectual zombie?
More to the point: she'd managed three weeks on little sleep to at least be cordial. Dropping that discipline the moment she left the base clearly showed a fault in logic on her part.
"Some days, I wonder why she puts up with me."
"C'mon, Snowdrift, you don't have to be so dramatic."
Perking up, Winter turned toward the open doorway, but didn't see her wife there despite the proximity of her voice. "Sundrop?"
"Yeah, I was in the middle of something and couldn't get to the door. Thought you might just wait a minute but I should've known you'd run off somewhere to sulk."
"I'm not sulking," she said before biting back a curse, resolving that she probably deserved the critical examination of her behavior. "However, my conduct has been deplorable and I am highly aware of that."
"Are you now?"
Winter couldn't be sure why her wife didn't seem inclined to enter the room but decided it didn't matter; her apology required only that she be sincere and say it to Yang. How the woman wished to receive it was, ultimately, her decision. "Yes. I apologize for my brutish and curt manner upon arriving home. Regardless of my weariness, you were only trying to help, and I should've just accepted that instead of focusing on my own addled plan to address the situation."
"You're doing good so far."
"Furthermore-"
"Ah ah, don't get formal with me, Missy." Yang clicked her tongue. "I'm not one of your soldiers."
Trying again, Winter acknowledged that she had slipped into a slightly more… military mindset. "I'm sorry, Sundrop. I acted like a heel and I should've just taken the moment to realize you were doing nothing but attempting to help me. I shouldn't have been so ungrateful. Next time, I'll be more mindful of my propensity to be short and do my best to recognize your efforts instead of brushing them off."
"Alright, I'll accept that." Her wife paused. "But, I'm gonna be honest, Snowdrift. I gotta keep my eye on you, now! Gotta make sure this doesn't happen again!"
Winter's brows furrowed.
"In fact, I need to keep more than one!"
This felt familiar… like a set-up to something…
"I think I need four."
"Sundrop, what are you-"
And that's when Yang stepped out into the doorway, leaning up against the frame and giving her a million watt smile. She wore a pair of pajama shorts but was naked from the waist up. Which, normally, would be a wonderful sight to behold.
Except for the… oddly oversized craft supplies.
"Yang… why do you have huge googly eyes attached to your breasts."
Apparently, that answer- stuck somewhere between flabbergasted and amused- was exactly what her wife wanted. "Because I've called forth the all-seeing gaze of… the boobly eyes."
At that point, Winter lost all manner of composure and slid into the most undignified giggle fit imaginable, trying very hard to get a word out and failing several times. Maybe it was the fact she was tired or just the absolute absurdity of two giant, plastic and moving eyeballs attached to her wife's breasts, but she couldn't seem to recapture her composure, especially as Yang started walking towards her, putting an extra bounce in her step to send the black pupils bouncing around within their plastic confines.
"You see? Their powers are already working wonders!" Her wife sauntered over to her, gently pushing her back so the blonde could straddle Winter's lap. "The boobly eyes can see all."
"S-stop- stop calling-"
"I must call them the boobly eyes!" With her own hands, she grabbed her breasts and moved them enough to send the pupils bouncing around again. "Look into them and see your future!"
"H-h-h-how!?"
Suddenly, all amusement slid away as Yang leaned over her, lilac eyes boring into her own with utmost sincerity. "Because the only way you'll continue seeing what's beneath them is if you drop that grumpy gus routine at the door next time you come home from a long mission. Am I clear?"
Winter swiftly sobered up now that her attention was entirely directed into her wife's eyes, nodding slowly to show that she fully understood. "I'm sorry, Yang."
"I know you are," the woman replied, sighing. "But this isn't the first time you've nearly bitten my head off after a long mission. So, here's the new plan." A hand slipped along her jaw and to the back of her head, coaxing Winter's gaze towards the boob- googly eyes, and she couldn't help but do her best to stifle her laughter. "We're going to build up a strong association between you being ungodly tired and these ridiculous things. Every time you prepare to come into that door, you're gonna think of these things, and you're going to laugh. I mean, even when you're at your worst, could you really stay grumpy when you've got nothing but these in your head."
"Please tell me I won't come home on days and find you wearing these." She somehow managed with only a few pauses for chuckles. "How are they even staying on?"
"With icing, believe it or not." Yang smirked. "And I might need help getting it off. But, first…" She sat back folding her arms across her belly and using that impressive amount of muscle control to set her breasts moving with each word, which in turn made the googly pupils move. "What have we learned today?"
It took a solid minute of semi-breathless laughter before she could muster a response. "To not be a grumpy gus when I come home from missions."
"Good. And?"
"And that not even I can resist the power of the… boobly eyes."
"There we go!" Chuckling, her wife leaned down and rewarded her with a gentle kiss. "You already ate, right?"
"Yes, and thank you for the delicious meal. I really didn't deserve it."
"No, you didn't." A wicked smile came across Yang's lips then as a fire ignited in her eyes. "But I can think of a few ways you can pay me back."
"Ready and willing," she replied, stealing another kiss.
Unfortunately, no amount of coaxing could get her wife to remove the craft supplies for about four hours, during which Winter honestly thought she might expire from oxygen deprivation, or at the very least pass out.
At least she could take comfort that this wasn't a lesson she'd soon forget.
Author's Note: If you are in any way confused about what I'm referring to with "boobly eyes", type it into Google images when no one's looking over your shoulder.