Summary: Weiss is savage as fuck and that's the way Blake hates it.


The first time it could have been their first time, oh, it was very long ago. Yang knew that (Weiss made fun of her for knowing exactly how long, Ruby said it was too much information). Blake knew it too. Didn't stop her from keeping up appearances and keeping tensions palpable – because hell if those three didn't notice her valiant efforts of restraint.

The one thing the four of them were completely unaware of was the betting pool that Nora, Pyrrha, Ren and Jaune had going surrounding the subject. 'Better to let nature take its course', as Ren had phrased it. It's not like they were doing any harm, because really, there was no doubt of it actually happening – the question was more a when rather than an if. Besides, it was mostly the girls' idea (they lived vicariously through Blake and Yang).

Whenever they all met up, they didn't need to ask, per se – you wouldn't have to, really. Yang would probably have no problem announcing it to the whole building; in fact, the possibility she'd pay for a plane to fly a banner across the sky that read 'Yang finally got the pussy' was even higher.

It had become routine, really, to grill each individual as often as possible (separately; never at the same time). As long as one was out of earshot – easier said than done when somebody possessed hearing that bordered the range of unfairly good – there was no holding back.

Just last week, the game had gotten a little dangerous. Jaune proclaimed that was his middle name, until Nora helped him recall that he had no business defending himself from just one of the pair, let alone team bumblebee (Pyrrha promised to protect him regardless). The group of eight frequented this particular bar for its relaxed atmosphere, well priced drinks, and comfortable seating areas. It was practically a hole in the wall type of place, with few regulars – Weiss was sure Yang accounted for seventy percent of its earnings alone – and there was always a couple of couches and armchairs waiting for them.

That particular night (like every other night), Blake and Yang were seated next to each other – Blake preferred to be the closest to the exit – when Yang had excused herself to the bathroom. Thus, she had to sidestep in front of the Faunus, whose keen eyes were treated to an up-close and personal view of the blonde's derrière.

As distracting as it was, because it was, Blake could keep a straight (maybe that wasn't the right term for it) face. She had the ability to be stoic and watch Yang's behind simultaneously – she had practiced it – with subtlety.

Obviously, nobody was stupid enough to think she wouldn't be looking after such a show; the conversation lulled. "Blake." Said woman's cat ears gave a response, yet the rest of her was oblivious. Weiss rolled her eyes as she was ignored. She tried again.

"Blake." Amber eyes met icy blue. Blake then realised everybody was starting at her with funny looks on their faces.

Despite being the butt of the majority of Yang's 'jokes', the heiress was much more at home teasing Blake in these situations (since Yang was impervious to her jabs). After all, it was indirect payback in her mind. Unfortunately for the black-haired beauty, feigning innocence with Weiss never ended well for her.

"Yes, Weiss? Is something the matter?" Oh, how Weiss almost felt bad for the burn she was about to inflict. It was so 'sick', oh yes, it would have even beat Yang.
She did her best to act nonchalant. Not that it was that difficult, she was brilliant. "No, I just would have gotten you another drink if I had known you were that thirsty."

Two gasps (Ruby and Pyrrha) and three 'oohs' (Nora, Ren and Jaune). One gobsmacked Blake. Such reward was sweet.

Blake was truly lost for words. There was absolutely no coming back from this one. She was shocked, embarrassed and angry all at the same time, because damn, had Weiss gotten her good.

She heard Weiss coo in fake concern, "You don't look so good. Maybe you should have Yang take you home." A chorus of giggles and snorts followed, and Blake felt herself checking out.

This was it. This was how she was going to die. Her greatest regret was going to be making friends with this evil bunch – right after not having slept with Yang Xiao Long.

But, maybe not all was lost. Ren's stern voice cut through her depraved train of thought. "Yang inbound. ETA five seconds."

Nora whispered, which for Nora, was more akin to hushed screaming. "Abort, abort!"

Blake was saved. She would not endure such torture any longer. Never before had she been more thankful to see Yang returning from a public restroom. Her expression must have been one of extreme discomfort, and everyone else's of indifference, causing Yang to pause briefly and raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Why do I get the feeling you were talking about me?"

Ruby chuckled almost convincingly. Almost. "Ah, you always say that, sis!"

Yang shrugged. "Because I always get that feeling."

Weiss scoffed, "Oh, please. I have better things to talk about!"

It was Blake's turn to roll her eyes. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Weiss shot her a smug smile behind Yang's back as she attempted to return to her seat. Nora gave her an entirely mischievous smile. At least they had laid off on her-

"Whoa!" Was all the warning Blake had before Yang was on top of her, accompanied by Nora exclaiming "Oops!".

They could not hold back at the hilarity of seeing Yang trip on Nora's foot, right over the arm of the couch, and onto Blake. Between their laughs, an "I HATE YOU ALL" drifted out from underneath the upturned brawler.

Their shit-stirring was childish and rude, and now Blake was being smothered by Yang's boobs.

This was it. This was how she was going to die.

At least she got to second base this time.


A/N:

So I went with the feedback and decided to keep going. Poor Blake can't catch a break. This is kind of fun, in an evil way. It's not very long, but I tried to keep up with the idea of humour. Thanks for reading!