So it's asexual awareness week and *waves hands madly* THAT'S ME! So I decided to write about my favorite asexual ship, except not with the commonly accepted ace as the ace. Because I love ace Nora, she is my child.

Anyway, let's get this party started!

This Is Alright

Every morning, he woke up and made Nora breakfast.

It was just tradition. After all, if it were up to Nora, she would probably eat pancakes for every meal of the day, every day for the rest of her life. As her partner, it was in his best interest to keep her from dying of syrup overdose. ...Besides, although it had been a childish promise he made years ago, he had sworn to look out for her. That probably included making sure she was fed. And it wasn't like Nora just left all the work to him―she kept their apartment relatively clean, bought the groceries, and made sure that he didn't just seclude himself in his room for weeks on end.

So there was a specific way Ren was used to waking up. Nora would either shake him awake or flick the lights on and off until his eyes opened. Then would come the greeting—boisterous and loud as always (not that he'd have it any other way). "Good moooorniiiing!~" or "Wake up wake up wake up!" or "Ren Ren sleepyhead Re-en! Time for you to get out of be-ed!"

With a groan, he would push himself upright, rubbing his eyes and thinking wistfully of the years before Nora, where he woke up feeling rested, refreshed, and ready to face the day. Then he would swing his feet onto the ground, listening to her morning ramble as he got dressed, brushed his teeth, and etc. Rarely did he contribute to the conversation, but every so often he would intervene before Nora could put her latest ludicrous plan into motion.

With his routine out of the way, he would plod into the kitchen, Nora hot on his heels, and make breakfast Every morning, he attempted to ignore her wide-eyed plea for pancakes. About 90% of the time, he succeeded. Her rant typically lasted right up until the end of breakfast; she had the uncanny ability to talk with her mouth full. Or maybe he was just used to deciphering her lightning-fast, muffled voice. Could be either one.

After all the food was gone, they would both clean up; Nora was so energetic after eating that she would get almost everything done before he could even finish scraping his plate. She would run outside to check the mail, but they rarely had anything. Any idiot knew it was useless to send mail to a Hunter's home address. That was what Scrolls were for.

Finally, they would grab their weapons and head out, meeting Jaune outside his door. After the War, Hunter levels were low and missions were more than abundant, so they would snag the first one they could get that was difficult enough to be worth it. They had RWBY on speed dial, so it didn't matter if it was a two-team job.

Do the mission. Go back home. Fall asleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.

But, today, that schedule was broken.

When Ren woke up, he felt more rested than he had in years. His eyes fluttered open easily and his body was relaxed and pleasantly warm; the room was softly bathed in natural light from the partially-open curtains. The only sounds were the vague rumble of the city, quiet noises from the kitchen, and the literal cartoonish chirping of birds outside his window.

He didn't trust it.

Eyes narrowing, he sat up sharply, shoulders going rigid. Within seconds, StormFlower was deployed, held carefully in both hands.

Their room was the picture of innocuous to anyone else. Curtains lazily half-drawn to let in the sunlight; floor tidy; doors closed. He glanced at his alarm. 11:34―it was almost noon. But Nora wasn't here, kicking him out of bed and singing loudly in his ear. Her pajamas weren't discarded next to their bed, crumpled from the night's usage. Even her Scroll was missing from its charging station on the corner desk.

Something wasn't right.

Beginning to panic, Ren jumped out of bed, getting dressed within seconds in the way only Hunters could. He never let go of StormFlower; they were staying firmly in his hands until he knew where Nora was and why she hadn't woken him. The last time he had slept in this late―

Ruby vanished in a twirl of rose petals, shooting over the horizon like a crimson comet. "I'll take south-east, you take south-west," Jaune said, grabbing Crocea Mors and breaking into a run. He didn't need to be told twice. Taking off in the opposite direction, he flicked his weapons into his hands, eyes sweeping the landscape frantically as he ran through the trees. Where was she, where was she, where was she―

―and that night would live on only in his nightmares. So forgive him for being a bit paranoid.

A loud clank followed by a sharp gasp drowned out the white noise, and he stiffened, jerking around to point both his weapons at the door. Someone was in the kitchen―that much was for sure. And it wasn't Nora. Besides the fact that she had literally burnt cereal before and was now permanently disallowed from cooking, Nora would never do something so quietly. And, if she was here and in no danger, then why hadn't she woken him?

Ren didn't bother slowly creeping towards the door; he crossed the carpet in two long strides and practically kicked it open with uncharacteristic vigor, scanning the room immediately as he held StormFlower in front of him. If they thought he would just sit back and let them hurt her...

...It was Nora. No enemies; no Grimm; not even a comrade with good intentions trying to convince her to let her partner sleep. Just Nora, wearing his "Please do nothing to the cook" apron from Beacon and standing in the middle of the kitchen, right in front of the oven. With a startled "Eep!" and an impressive jump, she dropped the pan in her hands; it landed heavily on the ground with a dull clunk. Blinking in surprise, Ren slowly lowered StormFlower as she whirled around, eyes widening, a grin already spreading across her face.

"Ren!" she cried happily, shrugging off his sudden entrance and seemingly unfazed by the guns in his hands. In a single bound, she crossed the room and flung herself at him; he barely had enough time to move StormFlower out of the way before she was hugging him tightly.

"Nora." He couldn't help it; there was a clear note of shock in his voice. "What are you…?"

He paused and surveyed the kitchen. Everything was out; the flour, the sugar, the milk, bowls and measuring cups of every size, several empty egg cartons, a whisk, and just about every other cooking utensil they owned. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. "...You're baking."

She finally released her crushing hold on him; he had grown accustomed to her sudden, affectionate onslaughts, so he barely noticed the difference. "Sure am!" As usual, she put more energy into each words than most people expended in a week. Without warning, her eyes widened as she drew back in fear. "I didn't wake you up, did I?" she gasped.

"...No," Ren answered honestly, holstering StormFlower as he did a more thorough scan of the room. "I woke up on my own." Finally, his eyes landed on the pan she had dropped; it was a thick, rectangular thing, filled almost to the brim with thick, dark batter (unfortunately, it had spilled quite a bit onto the tile when she dropped it). If he wasn't mistaken, that pan was used for…

"Nora," he muttered incredulously, meeting her eyes and raising his eyebrows, "are you baking a cake?"

Her grin could've lit up the entire kingdom in the dead of night. "Yup!"

He blinked. "...And succeeding?"

An indignant gasp; Ren tried not to smirk. Pouting melodramatically, Nora elbowed him hard; he wheezed a bit despite himself, doubling over for a moment. "Oh, quiet, you! I can bake if I want to! Did you expect me to burn the apartment down?"

Ren wisely refrained from answering. "Did you get Jaune to help?" he guessed, raising an eyebrow. The batter, spilled though it was, looked well-made, if not perfect. Nora tended to put in way too much of at least one ingredient, and it showed.

"Nope!" Nora chirped, oblivious to his confusion. "I just followed the directions on the box!" She gestured to the counter, which, besides everything else, also sported a tower of empty boxes of chocolate cake mix.

If anything, that made him more impressed. Nora was even worse at following directions than she was at baking; she had a horrible memory, so she often left critical steps out entirely, and she had the tendency to rewrite the rules using not-so-sound logic. Not to mention her minor dyslexia and overall poor reading ability. To have so flawlessly produced the intended product with only the words on the back of a box… "This must have taken you all morning."

Laughing sheepishly, she scratched the back of her head. "Y-yeah. There was a lot of trial and error." She paused, then turned away bashfully. "...And I guess I did get Jaune's help. I texted him pictures of the batter and had him tell me if it looked right."

"Nora." Picking his way through globules of chocolate splattered on the tile, Ren stepped closer; she turned to face him again. Her face was pink―when was the last time he'd seen her blush? Had he ever seen her blush? "This still doesn't answer the most pressing questions."

"Oh?"

Ren crossed his arms, one eyebrow raising. "Why all the fuss? Why the cake? And why didn't you just wake me?"

Over the years, he had attuned himself to every expression Nora made. This one was her "desperately attempting to come up with a believable fib" smile, paired with her "caught with her hand in the cookie jar" eyes. His other eyebrow raised, and he knew she saw it―that was his "I know that look, so don't even try it" eyebrow.

She turned away, her skirt twirling. "Ahhhhh, well, you see…" she started, laughing uncomfortably, "I just, y'know… wanted to do something nice for you!" Slowly, the insincerity was fading from her voice; her next words were genuine. "You always seem super tired, so I thought I would let you sleep in, because for some reason people seem to be less tired when they sleep more, and then I thought, hey, what's your favorite food? Chocolate, right? And I like cake, and you like chocolate, soooo…"

He took the first opportunity he could get to intervene. "That still doesn't explain why you did this all today." He glanced at the huge mess she'd made; all the failed attempts―and, more importantly, all the effort she'd sunk into this one cake. "What's the occasion?"

"Nothing!"

Her shout was so sudden and so loud that they both jumped. Judging by the immediate slap of skin-on-skin as she snapped both palms over her mouth, she hadn't anticipated the volume. "Mmmthnnn!" she repeated, waiting to confirm that she'd successfully reapplied her indoor voice before daring to remove her hands. "I just… felt like doing something nice!"

Ren frowned. An obvious lie, if he had ever heard one―but, for once, Nora seemed well and truly embarrassed, and far be it from him to give her something to be embarrassed about. "...Sure," he muttered, making clear that he didn't buy it, but he would stop prying for now. With that, he rolled his shoulders, bending over to pick the pan up from the ground. "This batter is fine, but you can't fill the pan so much. It's going to overflow in the oven."

Finally, she turned back around to face him again; he offered her a small, fond smile. "Let's finish it up together," he offered.

Her eyes widened, and an expression that he couldn't identify flickered through them, but it was gone as fast as it came. "Okay!" she said merrily, meeting his smile with a grin ten times its size.

Ren frowned slightly, fidgeting. Suddenly, it felt a lot warmer. Disregarding that, he placed the pan on the counter and knelt down to find a bigger one. Luckily, his affinity for cooking and Nora's love of pancakes was well-known enough that they got countless pans as gifts every holiday. "Is there anything else left to make?" he called over his shoulder.

"Ummm… the frosting," Nora replied.

Ren hummed thoughtfully. "Put all the other ingredients away, will you?"

Soon, the quiet kitchen was a thing of the past, replaced with the clattering of pans and the opening and closing of cupboards. By the time Ren managed to find a pan big enough for the batter, Nora had managed to make the counters passable, if not quite clean. "Thanks, Ren!" she sung as he began to pour the batter into its rightful pan. He glanced up just long enough to catch her smile and quickly looked away, lips quirking down. It really did seem to be getting hotter in here.

"Um, how much milk should I use?" she asked after a moment.

Distractedly, he gauged the size of the pan. "Um…" He started. A big wave of heat had just hit him. "Um… maybe… a few cups… and no, you can't put in twice as much to make the frosting twice… as…"

He froze, eyes widening in horror.

"...Nora?"

She blinked, then tilted her head to the side. "Yeah?"

"Did you turn the oven on, please say no?"

Giggling, Nora waved his concerns away. "Oh, I did! But don't worry, I read the box!"

Ren's head snapped up. "What temperature?" he breathed.

Nora blinked at him, then smiled widely. "Weeeeellllllllllll…" she started proudly, and his heart sunk. "The box said 350 degrees for thirty minutes, but I didn't know how long you would be asleep, and I thought, 'Well, wouldn't it be cool if the cake could be done in three minutes―?' "

Ren dropped the almost-empty pan into the batter, leaping over the counter and grabbing her by the shoulders. "Nora," he hissed frantically, "did you or did you not set the oven to 3500 degrees?"

Nora's grin said plenty. "Well, I'm not admitting to anything, buuut…"

Shoving away from her much more harshly than he would normally dare, Ren hurled himself across the room, slamming into the front of the oven. It was burning hot at this point, and smoke was beginning to trickle through the sides of the oven door. Fingers scrambling on the buttons, he hastily hit "Clear/Off", then jumped away, grabbing Nora and dragging her along with him.

"What?" Nora asked, genuinely confused, as he slammed the apartment door behind them.

Through what had to be mostly luck, the apartment did not catch fire, although it was a full two hours later when Ren finally let Nora drag him back inside. This time, he firmly sat her in a chair in the corner and told her in no shortage of words that she was banned from the kitchen until she could look him in the eye and tell him she would never try to apply multiplication to bake times again.

"It made perfect sense," she was grumbling when he finally got the batter into the oven (which was now set to 350 degrees and no higher, Nora). Waving her off, Ren turned to the ingredients she'd left on the counter, which didn't seem singed or smoked. He frowned contemplatively.

"Nora? Why are there two frosting bowls?"

Harrumphing, Nora pointed at the food coloring she'd gotten out. "I was gonna make green and pink," she said rather sourly. "Y'know," she added, much louder, "this was supposed to be a gift from me to you."

Ren sighed. "It still is," he replied, his voice soft despite himself. "I like baking, you know." It should be illegal to be this hard to stay mad at. Sighing, he added a few drops of green food coloring to the first batch of frosting and started whisking.

For a long moment, there was no response. Then Nora inhaled sharply―her version of a sigh―and threw her arms up. "I know, but…" She paused. "...just…" Her eyebrows furrowed. Suddenly, her arms collapsed back to her sides. "Ugh! I was so ready!"

Ren blinked in surprise, looking up from the frosting he was stirring. Nora… looked angry. ...No, not angry. He'd seen her angry before, and this was not her usual apocalyptic rage. She looked frustrated. She looked fed up. And, for possibly the first time since he'd met her, she looked… tired.

"I just―" She plastered a hand over her eyes, groaning. "I was gonna make you a cake―" Again, she threw her hands into the air― "and let you sleep in―" She stood from her chair― "and―wear a―stupid―apron―" Grunting, she struggled out of the apron, throwing it onto the table. Mouth opening, although he didn't know what to say, Ren stepped forward, and she whirled around to face him, giving him such a pleading look that he froze in place again. "I was just so ready, Ren!"

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, slowly, Ren lowered his mixing bowl to the table. "Nora." He'd meant for his voice to come out as dead serious, but it ended up just sounded vaguely upset. "...What is this really about?"

She looked up at him, eyes serious (since when could Nora be serious?), and it struck him in that moment just how green they were. When they'd met, her eyes had been sky blue, yet now they were the greenest eyes he'd ever seen. Something about that seemed strikingly familiar. But there was no time to think about that, because Nora's eyes screwed up, she took a deep breath, and her mouth opened―

The oven timer let out a loud Beep! Beep! Beep!

And, just like that, his Nora was back, eyes wide and cheeks pink. "Oh! Uh―what? Um... Nothing!" Nervous laughter bubbled up from her chest, and, despite himself, Ren heaved a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn't sure how much more of this weird, blushing, tired? new Nora he could take. "I just―really wanted to bake you a cake! That's all!"

There was some amount of sincerity in that statement, and he smiled to hear it, chuckling faintly. Nora's face seemed to go even pinker, or maybe that was just his imagination. Either way, he quickly grabbed the oven mitts and fished the cake out, and, when he placed it on the counter, Nora was back in her chair, legs swinging happily. He cracked his knuckles, grabbing a butter knife. "Green icing on first, right?"

"Yep!" she confirmed with a sort of wistful smile that he didn't bother investigating further. If she was making a conscious effort to hide her emotions, for whatever weird reason, then he would let her: he respected her privacy that much, at least.

It was relatively easy to coat the somewhat lumpy chocolate cake in green, and he smiled. It may or may not have been intentional, but Nora had chosen one of his favorite colors, and, for that, he was grateful. Forest green just had such a soothing aura.

"So." He looked up, smiling; Nora met his gaze. "What about the pink?"

He could pinpoint the exact moment when realization dawned across her face, and, more importantly, when it turned to horror. Once again, he was left in the dust as she went straight from content to panicked, leaping up and rushing to the counter. "Oh, I-I'll do this part, Ren!" she squeaked, eye twitching.

Nora's hands shot for the bowl, but he quickly snatched it out of her reach; she whimpered dramatically, arms pinwheeling, but it was no use. Ren was a full head taller than her, and his arms were longer, too. Raising an eyebrow, he gently pushed her back. "I said no kitchen, and I meant no kitchen. Sorry." Stepping away from her, he put the bowl back onto the counter. "Just tell me what to make."

Her smile was frozen on her face. This was her "there's-a-reason-but-I-can't-admit-it" face, and he knew it well. "Um… b-but, ah… it's a message to you!..."

"All the more reason for me to do it," he countered smoothly, "since you know as well as I do that the letters would get mixed up in your head like they always do." He bent down to grab a plastic bag from the bottom drawer and began scooping the pink frosting into it. "There's no shame in it, Nora. Just let me do it."

Nora opened her mouth to protest again, but stopped when his other eyebrow raised. Slowly, she closed her mouth, then flopped onto the counter, resigned. "...W," she muttered.

With minimal smugness, Ren snipped off the corner of the baggie and squeezed, making an impromptu frosting nozzle. Carefully, he made a W in the top left corner, not sure how much room he would need. "...I," Nora said after a moment, and he quickly put it on the cake. "...L, L." He chose not to comment on her odd way of relaying the message letter-by-letter. WILL. Okay. Simple enough so far.

Groaning, Nora turned away, plastering a hand over her face. "Y, O, U," she squeaked, her ears reddening.

Ren frowned, but nonetheless wrote "YOU" in capital letters, movements careful and deliberate. She wouldn't take kindly to it if he messed up.

Physically separating her head from the counter, then slamming it back down, Nora moaned, "G, O." He dutifully penned it in. "O, U, T," were the next letters, and he copied them down rather diligently without even thinking about it.

Nora's head was now firmly pressed against the countertop. Her voice was so quiet and breathy that he almost couldn't make out the last letters.

"...W, I, T, H, M, E."

Only when he finished adding the last arm on his E and surveyed his handiwork did it hit him. He stared blankly at the bright pink words "WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME", sharply contrasting against the dark green background. After a minute, he looked over to Nora, who was attempting to fuse with the counter on a molecular level, both hands pressed tight to her face. Slowly, he re-read the cake, as if to make sure he hadn't missed a "Just kidding!" at the end.

"...Nora," he started.

"―you don't have to say yes," she interrupted at such a high pitch and such a high speed that he feared for both his eardrums and her vocal cords, "it's just that you're really great, and nice, and sweet, and you don't get mad when I rant and stuff, and I really like how you get all focused when you read, and you're really good at making pancakes, and even though we're not 'together' together I really love being your partner, and―"

She took a deep breath, trembling with exertion, her entire body hot as magma. "―and like, I'm not really… attracted to you, or anyone? And I used to think I was gay, but I'm not, but I'm not straight, or bi, and I think I might be… nothing? But even though I'm not, like, attracted to you, I still really like you a lot―like, of course I like you, but I mean, I like-like you, even though I don't feel 'that way' about anyone, and I―"

She was on a roll now, but not in a good way; she was working herself further and further into panic, slumping down until her knees were on the tile and only her arms over the countertop. "―and I, I know that that's kind of―kind of a big deal, and, like, a―a dealbreaker, for a lot of people, so I thought I should―I should tell you, before you―I mean, like, I know it's weird―to not want sex―but I thought, like, we've known each other forever, and I just―we could still hug, and kiss, and do what people do when they're 'together' together, but I―"

Nora sucked in one final breath. Strength returning, she surged to her feet, eyes still tightly shut, face red, and jerked forward, grabbing Ren's one free hand in both of hers and gasping out, "I think you're super cool, not just when you're killing Grimm but like, all the time, and I would like to cuddle with you like we did when we were kids, and I kinda maybe... wannabewithyouforever?"

It was out. There was no taking it back. Nora held her breath, clinging to Ren's hand as tightly as she could and awaiting a response. Anticipation coiled in her gut―although, what she was anticipating, she honestly couldn't say. Did she expect Ren to return her feelings? Did she expect him to reject her harshly and toss the cake into the garbage? Did she expect him to say sorry, but I'm not dating someone who won't even have sex and eat the cake, but only out of pity? …All of the above?

What she definitely didn't expect was for Ren's hand to land lightly on top of hers, grip almost nonexistent. "Nora," he said quietly, and she shivered; it was hard to tell whether that was his "fond, affectionate chide" or "polite but firm denial" voice.

His hand slipped out of her grip, and her heart sank―but it was just reaching up to brush the bangs out of her face. Did this count as mixed signals? "Nora. Look at me."

Without her permission, her eyes snapped open and met his, wide and hopeful. Yep, she noted with a hint of triumph―those were definitely his "fond, affectionate chide" eyes. That meant she had a better chance, right?

"Nora."

She started. "Y-yeah?"

Amaranth pink met olive green. Ren's hand slid down from her face to rest on her shoulder, but he didn't break the eye contact.

"...I thought we were already dating."

Nora blinked.

"...What?"

About forty minutes later, Nora finally stopped laughing.

"It was a perfectly valid assumption," Ren grumbled, looking anywhere but at her, as her violent cackles started dying down into loud giggles. His face just about matched his eyes at the moment. "I mean, half the time we sleep in the same bed!"

She didn't dignify that with a response. Not like there was much time for her to speak in-between snorts.

When she finally got a grip, she actually thought to ask, "So, you don't care, then?"

Ren raised an eyebrow.

It was a combination of her remaining laughter and just her own nature that kept her from getting nervous again. "That I… don't want sex. Or like, those kind of things."

Ren only shrugged. "I'll manage, Nora," he said, a small smile crossing his face. "I should think it would normal for your comfort to be top priority." For a moment, he was dead serious. "And I mean that. Whatever happens―don't let me do anything you don't want, okay?"

She managed to hold herself back for just long enough to snap a picture of the cake with her Scroll before kissing him.

It was over quickly enough, because her stomach rumbled rather suddenly, and they both laughed. Ren convinced her to let him cut her a rather large slice rather than just eating it straight from the pan, so she sulked in the corner while he divided it up. While she waited, she flicked open her scroll, opened the group chat labelled "The Cake Plan", and sent a thumbs-up.

By the time Ren had finished his two slices and Nora had eaten the rest, she had five replies.

backup ninja: I told you he was head-over-heels.
leaderman: WOOHOO! finally I can be the official third wheel!
shotgun: don't do anything i wouldn't do ;)
ice queen: Yang, don't be so vulgar! I, for one, am very happy for you two.
little red riding scythe: YAY! :D you two will be really happy!

(She knew. Nora Valkyrie watched Ren fold his "Please do nothing to the cook" apron just so, and she knew full well just how happy they'd be.)

That night, when Ren jolted awake from a nightmare, Nora's name on his tongue and her lifeless body carved into his mind, she was already sitting on the edge of his bed, her hand tentatively on his shoulder. Without thinking, he latched onto her arm, fingers wrapping tightly around it, desperate for some anchor―something to tell him that she was fine and here and alive. Then she jumped―just in surprise, maybe, but maybe not―and he flinched, withdrawing. "Sorry," he gasped, wiping the cold sweat off his forehead. "I'm sorry―"

But she was already slipping under the covers, arms wrapping around his back, burying her face into his damp pajama shirt. "Shh," she whispered. "S'alright, Ren."

Slowly, he reciprocated, hugging her back―she was here and real and alright―but hot guilt slithered up his throat, even as relief fluttered through his chest. "I―" he started, and stopped, sucking in a sharp breath. When had all the oxygen fled his lungs? "M'sorry," he choked out.

"It's fine, silly," Nora giggled softly, and that helped; it really did.

His breathing began to slow. "So…" He closed his eyes, tucking her head under his chin like he'd done so many times before. "...this is… alright… right?"

Nora hummed in confusion. He swallowed thickly. After a moment, he removed his arms from her back, then replaced them. "This is alright?" Me touching you?

She laughed, loud and clear, and he couldn't be bothered to remind her that they had neighbors.

"Yeah, Ren," she whispered. "This is alright."

(This was more than alright, Nora thought as they drifted off, arms fast around each other. This was just about perfect.)