Breaking Through the Bottom of the Bottle
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Five years after Beacon, Jaune's still going home alone as often as not. An unlikely encounter with Yang may have just the solution- drinks, company, and a hell of a lot of pickup lines.
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Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY. Duh.
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Step step step, smile never failing.
Step step step.
Step step step, swallowing a familiar guilt and home-sickness as he walked away from a vestige of Beacon once more.
Step step step.
Step step step, idle thoughts of finding another bar, tempered by a cynical certainty it wouldn't help tonight.
Step step step.
Step step… stop, right in the middle of the sidewalk.
Step step… stop.
"I thought you were upset at me now," Jaune said, not looking behind him.
A flicker of flame and aura told him he wasn't quite wrong.
"I don't want to fight again," Jaune sighed. "Not again. Not tonight. Not with you."
Another flicker, deepening his own shadow.
"Yang," he sighed, "Stop following me. I don't think-"
A single arm reached out and pulled, twisting his mass with ease. Before he even caught his balance the same hand gripped the tip of his shirt and pulled him down.
Down? It was strange to think that in his slightly inebriated state. Strange to remember that as strong as she was, she was smaller than him. Not just in height. He'd always been tall, but he'd also grown out as he'd leveled up. He was a grown man, and hardly a scrawny one. Yet she could still drag him around with ease when she wanted. Like right now, when she dragged him right against her to glare at him face to face.
"You don't think," she growled inches from him looking up, even as he was already looking down and past her rather than meet those red eyes. "And that's annoying. Did you ever 'think' I might be upset because I didn't follow you last time?" she demanded as he looked further down. "Is it really that hard to think of how we feel every year, remembering the last time we saw you was when you walked away from us?"
"Yang-" Jaune began to say.
"Shut up," Yang said, not willing to let her grip falter. "I've been waiting five years to say this, and there's nothing so important you can't wait-"
"Your hand," Jaune said.
It was so out of left field it made Yang lose her rhythm. She didn't understand at first. "No, that doesn't count. You-"
"No, your hand," Jaune repeated, ignoring her righteous anger and focusing on her right hand, which was dangling at her side. "What's wrong with it?"
The fist of flesh and blood below his chin let go of his shirt and reflexively reached down against the prosthetic, covering the unsightly scars where flesh met metal. Yang unconvincingly suppressed a grimace. Jaune didn't frown at all, except when he shot her a questioning look.
"You haven't used your right arm for anything for awhile now," Jaune realized, thinking of all the gestures she'd made with her left. "What's the wrong with it?" he asked in a tone that, while concerned, also made clear it wouldn't accept any lies.
It was Yang's turn to avoid his gaze, even as she wondered how he'd stolen control of the conversation from her. "It's nothing important," Yang claimed, rubbing the joining.
"It's your hand. It's important," Jaune reasoned, reaching down and lifting it up by the wrist for a closer inspection. The arm raised, but the wrist flipped backward, awkwardly, unnaturally. Jaune simply looked at her, waiting for a response.
"Shards," she grudgingly admitted, trying for matter-of-fact rather than shame at being hindered by something so simple. "When I broke that glass, some shards fell between the cracks and got stuck inside."
Jaune brought the palm closer, examining it closely without any hint of distaste or anything less than concern. "Does it hurt?" he asked.
"Not if I don't use it," Yang answered. "It just needs a simple cleaning. I could do it one-handed at the hotel room."
"Then why didn't you?" Jaune asked. Why hadn't she left already?
"Because I didn't want to make a big deal about it. Because I didn't want to spend the night alone fumbling with a cleaning kit. Because-" she sighed, and finally looked him in the eyes again with her own, eyes that shifted away from a formidable red to something softer, mixed.
"Jaune, is it really so hard to believe that I came and followed and am sticking around because I want to spend time with you?"
To his credit, he didn't ask why. Shards or no shards, she probably would have socked him if he had. He looked at her oddly instead.
"I would have stayed with you for that," he said softly. "Tonight, I mean."
Despite herself, Yang laughed. "Not quite how I want to keep a guy around," she shared, no more into pity than he. "Look Jaune, I'm not here to drag you back to the reunion. I'm not even here because Ruby asked me to, or because Blake kicked me out and threatened to not let me back unless I tried. I came, and stayed, and followed, because I want to. Because I-" she choked, stumbling, "because I- wooah, Jaune what are you doing?!" she exclaimed as she was pulled forward into a stumble.
Jaune didn't release her hand, or the gentle but insistent grip he'd taken. "Come on," he said, not looking back. "We're getting you fixed up. Then we're going back drinking. You still owe me a round or two."
"Jaune! It's no big deal," she protested, flushing a bit at being led around by the hand like a little girl. "We can just get drinks and-"
"Don't make me repeat myself," Jaune warned, looking ahead for something only he seemed aware of. "It's your hand. It's important." He gave a squeeze she could feel around her mechanical wrist, but it might as well have been around her neck for all that she could breath. "Come on, it'll be like old times," he cajoled, just before he took sharp right and pulled her into a narrow alley. "This'll do."
"Jaune what are you-" Yang began, before she was pushed against a wall and Jaune began kneeling down in front of her and reaching into his pocket.
Despite her lingering embarrassment, Yang couldn't help but laugh inside a little as the situation changed once more, this time for the better. The convenience of a seedy alley wasn't lost to her. "Is that a multi-tool in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"
"Both," Jaune said simply, wiping off her shit-eating grin with effortless ease. Yang said nothing for a moment, shocked at the return, even before a bit of static electricity jumped between him and her hand.
"It really is good to see you again, Yang," Jaune repeated from earlier in the night, looking down as a well-worn tool opened up...
...and missing a softer smile on Yang's face as she watched him handle his tool and bring it towards her metallic palm.
"Now open up," Jaune commanded, beginning to twist for the first of a series of screws.
"For you, Jaune? Anything," Yang said with a willing sigh, leaning back and closing her eyes as she propped herself up against the wall and let him get to work.
A series of pops and hisses signaled when the external plate released, and despite the lack of nerves she could almost feel the breeze, and his breath, as she was uncovered. She definitely felt the finger that followed, and was unable to restrain a shiver as it lightly traced the outer edges of the opening.
"Aura conduit looks good," Jaune said aloud. "You should be getting feedback. How are the tactile sensors?" he asked before blowing in.
Yang shivered again, goosebumps rising. "I felt that," she said.
Jaune inspected closer. "I don't see any glass. I'll have to take off more and probe deeper," he warned.
"You shouldn't," Yang said, clearing her head enough to try and cover the access port with her other hand. "It's dirty."
"Just grease. Nothing I can't wash off," Jaune said as he pushed her hand away and took off another layer.
"I was- thinking about the alley," Yang claimed. "Your pants will get dirty if you keep kneeling like that," she warned.
"The cost of servicing a beautiful woman," Jaune joked. "They should be proud."
"You've always did talk sweet to the hand," Yang remembered with a smile.
"It's a good hand. Classy. I like it," Jaune said without shame, gingerly lifting the last plate needed to look at the intimate inner workings. "If I ever lost mine, I'd want one like it."
"Mechaphile," Yang shot, smiling down at him even so.
"Penny never really did it for me," Jaune denied, but he shot her a curious look even so. "Though I did always wondered why you didn't get an arm like hers, though," he admitted. "You wouldn't have to worry about grit and grime so much like with this model if you had a false skin," he said.
Yang looked down on her arm. Partially disassembled as it was, it was unmistakably inhuman and mechanical. Not that there was ever any doubt about the inorganic nature- even with the cords that looked like muscle sinew, the jet black color and metal plates alone…
"Normally it's not an issue. This is just my date night arm," Yang informed. "Ruby's made enough upgrades to main one that I don't have to worry about stuff like this, but it's also bulkier. It's a pain at times."
Jaune was quiet for a minute as he looked at the arm. A little more slender, a good deal lighter, and perfectly human proportioned. "Not quite what I meant," he admitted. "With Penny's arm, you could, well…" he trailed. Pass for normal, or at least un-maimed.
"I thought about it," Yang admitted. "Afterwards. Tried one briefly, when Ironwood made an offer, but it wasn't me."
"Wasn't you?" Jaune asked distractedly, as he worked more on the hand.
"It wasn't honest. Sure, I could pass for normal at first glance- probably could even hide the scars- but underneath?" She shook her head. "I'd know. And eventually, anyone else would too. I didn't want to pretend nothing had changed, or that I'm something I'm not."
"That's true. Good, even," Jaune weighed in. "You got better. You got stronger," he added.
"Metal hits harder than flesh," Yang agreed, remembering her first real brawl with a combat prosthetic.
"Not what I meant either," Jaune said again. "The old you stayed down. The new you got back up and," he couldn't help it, "gave us a hand with Salem."
She bopped him on the head with her other, which he was expecting. "That's my line. I even trademarked it for that endorsement deal. Leave the puns to the professionals, Jaune, or pay me royalties," she chided, before she winced and couldn't quite hold in a gasp.
Jaune paused in his ministrations and looked up. "Does it hurt?"
"Don't stop," Yang denied, shaking her head in answer. "It's just… tender." She shot him a shaky grin. "Been awhile since I had a guy's fingers inside me."
He rolled his eyes with a grin. "If you're good enough to tease, you're good enough to help," he ruled. "Light's not the best down here- you mind keeping my hair out of my eyes?" he asked as he fiddled with another wire.
"S…sure," Yang managed, slowly reaching out and brushing his bangs with her hand. Even as she held it back, letting a few more beams of street light illuminate his work, she idly played with it between her fingers. Every once in awhile her metallic fingers would twitch too- the sporadic effects of impulses and Jaune's efforts to tenderly clean the inner workings. Sometimes it hurt, just a little, and sometimes when he probed deeper…
"…what's it feel like?" Jaune asked as she shifted once again, filling the silence. "I know you get pressure feedback with your hand, but…"
"It's different," Yang said. "It's not like my good," he tutted, and she corrected herself, "my other hand. I don't feel texture. I don't feel heat or cold. It's like… wearing a glove all the time, one that you can never take off. And right now, it's like there's an itch I can't scratch."
"I should have noticed earlier. Sorry," Jaune apologized, a hint of the shy guy she used to know coming back.
"Don't be," Yang said, patting him on the head with her free hand. "You're scratching my itch now. And besides, it's not all bad," she confided. "Things that would normally hurt are barely a buzz, just enough to register and get me to look at it. I don't have to worry about flinching at slimy stuff. And besides…" she gave a smile he couldn't see. "Feeling with aura is something else."
"Aura?" Jaune asked.
Yang closed her eyes and leaned back into the wall, a content expression on her face as he probed deeper. "Yeah, aura," she said. "Without it, it's just a thing- like a tool, or a computer. But when I let my aura go through it-" and she let a little more flow, enough that the black metal seemed to glow softly- "it's not a thing, it's an extension of me. Like Ember Cecelia, and then some. I mean, yeah, it's reinforced and dishes out more damage, but that's just what aura does anyway. When I just do it outside of a fight, it's like… like touching with my soul."
Jaune paused, curious. "Your soul?"
Yang shrugged, not willing to open her eyes or look down. "That's what aura is, right? It's all in your body normally, but I don't have an arm to play middlewoman anymore. So when I reach out, it's like feeling with my aura directly. It mingles. Brushes. Intertwines." She gave a slight groan. "You have no idea what it's like to feel people like that, Jaune. To feel who they really are. I can feel their aura, brush against the edges of their soul."
Jaune blinked. "Wow," he said, suitably impressed. "Wasn't expecting that. That much, huh?"
"You've no idea," Yang said. "You can't lie with something like that."
Jaune looked at her hand in his eyes, glowing dim and black. "I wonder what it'd be like if it someone else's aura was inside it," he mused, barely a hint of alcohol in his gaze. "Think I'm almost done- tell me how does this feel?" he asked.
Yang's eyes widened, but before she could answer him- before she could tell him or warn him or anything else- Jaune pumped enough aura into his hand to make it glow and slid it into the deepest crevice he could.
[WonderAweAdmirationCuriosityDistractionHurtDeepBuriedForgottenFriendPresentFocusFriendWonderWhatDoesSheFeelCuriousWhatDoesSheWantCertaintyFriendSuspicionSomethingElseWonderWhatPlatonicAffectionConnectionBrushWaitWhoIsThisWhatIsThereYangYangYANG?]
Stars exploded behind Yang's eyes as pure, unfiltered aura-on-aura contact wracked her. She didn't black out- that much aura ensured it would be a white-out if anything- but if she hadn't already been leaning against the wall she would have been picking herself off the ground. Yang couldn't help it as her body, and not just her arm, gave a frightful spasm. All she could do was try to keep what was inside her in, even if it meant taking in everything that was him as well.
[CryPainConcernHurtMineIrrelevantHerImportantHerConcernConcernFEARHurtQuestionUncertaintyBloodNoNotThisTimeFearCan'tHaveDidItAgainPleaseNoPleaseNotHurtFriendNoNeverAgainNever-]
"-ng. Yang!" Jaune was exclaiming, shaking her with one hand while the other remained painfully trapped in spasming machinery. "Yang!"
[GuiltFearFrightShameSelfloathingHurtFriendHurtHerNotAgainDon'tGoNeverAgainYangNoYangNeverNeverYangYangYANG!]
Fireworks continued to go off in Yang's skull as the overload continued and she struggled to regain her faculties.
"Jaune," she croaked, reaching for his hand that was painfully stuck within her spasming palm. Only a strong aura was keeping his finger from being crushed, but the stronger the aura the stronger the sensations she was receiving. "Jaune!"
"Yang!" he exclaimed, hearing her.
[ReliefShameFortuneFailureJoyYangWholeGoodAgainGuilt]
"Jaune," she said again, mastering herself so she could master the feelings bombarding her and the seizure wracking her hand.
"Yang, I'm sorry!" he cried, his face reflecting the kaleidoscope of emotions behind his eyes, and not one tear threatening to fall being over the finger painfully wedged in her joints.
[SorryPromiseWordArcWordNeverGoBackNeverAgainPlease]
"Jaune!" Yang, reaching out and firmly grabbing the hand that was still stuck within hers. "Stop!" she demanded, trying to break the aura connection. "You have to stop! You're-"
[HurtingHerDroveHerAwayMyFaultAgainMyFaultNoNeverAgainNeverGoBackEverAgainPromised]
"I'm not meaning to, I swear, I-"
She barely heard him over her gasp as she tried to pull his finger out. Tried to pull him out of her, without dragging anything else out as well. She almost managed, except for one final sensation of warm skin on-
[Empty sheets and the morning after.]
She gasped, at a different sort of pain.
[Why, Ruby?]
Jaune's finger was free. They were separated, and the aura connection broke. Jaune fell backwards on his bottom. Yang collapsed, finishing her slide against the wall until she too was sitting. For a moment they could say nothing, and just panted to catch their breath as they looked at each other and tried to speak. Tried to be the first to say what they thought was needed.
"Jaune," Yang struggled, trying first. She had to.
"Ya-" he tried, but he couldn't. Mustn't. Not yet. Not before she did.
"Jaune," she managed, chest heaving and heavily winded, but knowing she had to speak first even as his breath hitched to try again.
"Jaune. It's alright. I'm still here."
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End Ninth Round
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Author Note:
Artistic liberties with lore? Perish the thought. Good read? Hope so.
And this round goes to...?