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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[And when he couldn't defend himself any longer...]
"Which way?" Jaune asked as they came to an intersection.
He was walking again, of course- don't drink and drive, kids- though walking might not have been the right word. An early morning stroll was just enough to help Jaune sober up a bit, get the blood pumping, but he still staggered as much as not.
Still, if Yang minded him occasionally grabbing hold of her or leaning on her for support, she did a good job hiding it. A very good job.
"Why don't we go to my place and get you out of those cold clothes?" Yang offered, pointing in one direction. "You look like you could use something to warm you up," she said as he shivered once more.
"Trust me, I want to get out of them, but I wouldn't have a thing to change into," he laughed. His own shirt was just a bit damp- the usual sort of thing from wearing one shirt in a bunch of warm bars and splashing a bit too much water on your face to wake up- but it wasn't doing him any favors. He looked enviously at his own jacket on her shoulders, and her other things.
Yang hmmed. "You could always wear my sheets while we warm them up," she suggested, not remarking on where his eyes were drifting.
"Do you even have a drier?" Jaune asked straight-faced.
Yang held out a moment, but only a moment. "No," she admitted, dropping her shoulders comically. "You could dry them on my floor, though," she offered.
"You don't even have a clothesline, do you?" Jaune asked with a hint of a tease.
"I do to!" Yang hotly denied, and proved it by turning and using it to check Jaune's neck. It was gentle but persistent, and Jaune let himself be knocked off his feet as Yang held on and guided him into falling backwards on her front.
"Not quite what I meant," Jaune said, laughing at the 'clothesline' she'd thrown at him turned into a rear-neck choke. Suddenly he was her captive, though obviously he hardly felt scared.
"Come on, Jaune," Yang urged, whispering into his ear from behind. "If you're that concerned, I could always dry them out myself. You know how hot I am," she said, pulling him a bit harder into her generous chest.
Then she let her aura flared, and released just a hint of her fiery semblance.
Golden flames enveloped them, but they were anything but painful. For a moment her aura enveloped him, and the golden flames licked across his body- comforting, caressing, wanting and warm. For a moment, the flame replaced the buzz with a different sort of intoxication, and the chilled night air disappeared- and when the flames retreated, a whole other sort of goosebumps came over him.
It took Jaune a moment for his mouth to work again. "That's one way to warm my clothes," he admitted, mouth dry.
"Among other things."
Jaune couldn't catch his breath. She was still squeezing him too tight. "You sure you'd want to?" he asked, panting.
"I'd love to."
Jaune squirmed, writhing against her. "I, uh, um, pants!" he grasped. "My pants are- too small. Yeah. That's right. They probably wouldn't fit. It'd be uncomfortable for you. I couldn't," he rationalized.
"I could," she returned, still whispering in his ears. "I could totally see myself in your pants tonight, Jaune."
Dust, her breath against his neck was hot.
Jaune couldn't help it- he laughed. Nervously.
"Alright, you won that round," he confessed, submitting in surrender. "Good line, Yang."
"Thanks." Oddly, she didn't back off, and kept holding him.
"…Yang?" Jaune managed when he realized she wasn't backing off or giving him back his space.
"Yes, Jaune?" she returned, not tightening and not loosening and not letting him forget what he was being pulled against.
"Could you let go of me?" he managed, face reddening and a slight panting becoming obvious.
"…why?" She didn't loosen at all. If anything, she drew him closer.
"It's hard to breath." And not just because of the choke.
Her arms uncoiled, and Jaune stumbled out of her grip panting. When Jaune turned he stared at her, collecting his wits as best he could. She wasn't facing him- but a glimpse out of the corner of her eye indicated she was watching.
A shiver of nerves overtook him, and Yang's face took a satisfied smile… and something else. Something predatory.
Jaune shivered again.
"Maybe we should split up here," Jaune suggested, nervous. "You want to call a cab?"
Yang shook her head, long hair swaying hypnotically. "Actually, I'm a little short on cash from all the drinks. Unless you want to share a cab home together?" she asked.
"I, uh, don't have enough handy for two trips. It'd have to be my face or yours." It took him a moment to realize what he said, and he colored again. "Place! I meant place!"
Yang smirked, but didn't mind. "We can take a cab to your place, since mine is so primitive" she agreed. She pantomimed a fatalistic sigh. "Sigh- and then you'll kick me out, and I'll just have to walk back to the hotel on my own, in the wee hours of the morning."
Something about the way she said that stirred something.
"No way," he rejected. "I'd never kick-" he stopped, and coughed. "It's not right for a lady to walk alone at night," he corrected.
Yang flexed her right arm, and the metal. "Ah, Jaune, worried about little ol' me?" she asked, teasing with a smile. "I can take care of myself," she said with a generous roll of her shoulders that moved more generous things under his jacket. He hadn't been so jealous of a piece of leather since a minute ago.
"I know you can," Jaune said, looking away with a flush. "But it's still not right. We take the cab to your place, and I'll walk back," he offered.
"Jaune, you're so predictable some times," Yang said, before flicking him on the forehead. The only reason he didn't fall down was because he stumbled back into a light pole. "Also, drunk. If I'm at risk, what about you?"
"It's different," Jaune insisted, still leaning against the pole. "No one would want to do… things to me."
Yang strode towards him, a walk that could only be called a saunter. His back was already to the light pole, he couldn't retreat any further. Her metal hand reached out, took his chin, and forced him to look at her. He didn't flinch at her metal hand. He didn't even resist.
"Don't sell yourself short, Jaune," Yang whispered with a husky tone. "There are girls out here who would Eat. You. Up. If they ever caught you alone. And you know what?"
"Wh-wh-what?" Jaune stammered, teeth chattering from the cold and a sudden case of the nerves.
She leaned forward, closer, too close, just so she could whisper into his ear.
"I'm not going to let them."
Jaune shivered again, and it had nothing to do with sweat-dampened clothes or the cold. Still… "I'm not going to let you walk home alone, Yang," he said, holding the line.
"And I'm not going to leave you alone," Yang countered. "What do you say to that, big guy?"
Jaune struggled for breath, and composure, and saw the solution. "I'm taking you home. My home," he clarified.
"Now you're talking my language," Yang chuckled, voice still deep. "And then?"
Jaune swallowed. "And then- then you take a cab. Home."
"But I'll already be there," Yang claimed. "What happened to not kicking me out, Jaune?" she pouted, teased.
Jaune closed his eyes and looked up, straight up, the only way he could escape her hand's grip. "Yang, please," he begged, almost moaned. "You're not making this easy."
"No. I'm not. And neither are you," Yang's voice said, before her hand pushed his chin up and his neck became intimately familiar with the pinch of her teeth. Aura would probably prevent a bruise- had he had the control to summon it.
"Yang!" Jaune gasped. "What are you doing!?"
"Protecting you," Yang claimed, before nipping again. Once again his aura didn't protect him instinctively. It knew he wasn't being attacked.
"Why?" he asked with a hitch in his throat.
"So greedy little girls won't think you're free." Another nip. Another gasp. "I should have done this years ago," he thought he heard her mutter.
He ignored it. He had to. "Yang! What if people see you?"
"Let them," Yang claimed, not caring if they thought what she wanted them to think. Jaune whimpered at another nip.
"What will they- ah!- say?"
"That I'm taking a bite out of crime." Nip. "If you look this good, you can't be legal." Nip again.
"Yang, are you drunk?" Jaune demanded, begged, unable to look down as Yang's metal palm pushed his chin up. His eyes tried to look down- wanted to- but he couldn't. He could only imagine what she looked like, her teeth at his defenseless throat.
Yang heard him gasp. "Ooh, did that hurt?" Yang taunted, or perhaps cooed. "Here, let me kiss that and make it all better."
"Yang, please- ah!" the feeling of wet skin exposed to the night startled him.
"Please what, Jaune? You have to tell me so I can understand," she taunted, relishing the irony.
"Please, don't-" Nip. Gasp.
"Don't what? Don't do this? Want something else, Jaune?"
"No," he groaned, his body below his neck writhing and betraying him even as he head was held up high. "Please, don't-" he felt fingers of flesh and blood pop a button, exposing his collar even as he feebly reached for her hair. "Stop."
"Please don't stop?" Yang echoed, a grin audible before a delicious pain nipped his collarbone. "Don't worry, Jaune-"
"Yang." He managed, forcing it out even as his body begged him not to push her away. "Stop."
Lips froze on skin, but teeth remained behind them as she froze. "Why?" she asked, warmth fading only a bit as she stayed this side of neutral. "You're enjoying it."
Jaune couldn't deny it- his body was betraying him in obvious ways- but it didn't matter.
"Think this through," he begged. "Your guy tomorrow-"
"Let me worry about him," she rejected his appeal.
"I can't-"
"You can. And you want to," she countered, brushing her hand further south.
"Yang, please," Jaune gasped, even as his body tried to push itself harder into her. "Please, stop!" he cried.
Yang stilled when she heard the gasp that was too close to a plea for help. "Jaune?" she asked, a hint of worry in her tone.
"Yang, please… stop teasing me," Jaune begged, even as he reached up to feebly pull her arm from his neck
Yang lowered her arm from his chin, backing away. Jaune slid down, into a sitting position on the ground as his chest heaved. His shirt was undone, his hair ruffled, and his head was staring between his knees.
He wasn't smiling, and didn't look excited in the least at the view he could have had as she knelt.
"Jaune," Yang tried to reach out, but was stopped with a swift hand in-between.
"Don't," Jaune gasped as he covered his neck with his other hand. "Yang… don't you think you've taken this far enough?" Jaune asked, not looking at her as he rubbed his bruising neck. "Haven't you made your point already?"
"Have I?" Yang answered the question with a question.
"You can have any man you want. Any man," Jaune said, without exception. Even he wasn't immune, not totally. "I know it. I knew it. And you believe me. Isn't that enough?" he asked her.
"I- no," Yang confessed. "It's not."
"It should be. I'm drunk." Jaune said simply. Coherent or not, it was still a fact. "I'm drunk and I'm not thinking straight. I'm reading into things I probably shouldn't, and I can't tell a joke from the real thing right now. Please Yang," he begged for mercy. "I don't know what to believe, but I know one thing." He looked at her with as sincere an appeal as he could. "I don't want either of us waking up tomorrow regretting tonight."
"You think I'm kidding around?" she asked.
"I think you can be careless," Jaune admitted, looking at her with tired but wary eyes. "Just like Ruby."
Yang hissed, as if struck by a low blow. "That's not fair."
"Not fair or not true?" Jaune asked, guarded and guarding himself. "I think you're nervous about what tomorrow may bring, and want to blow off a little steam. I think you're worried about facing that guy tomorrow, and want some confidence." He let it trail off. "Am I wrong?"
Yang hissed between her teeth. "Not… entirely," she admitted honestly.
Jaune relaxed, misaimed familiar certainty returning even as he shook his head. "I can help you with some of that, Yang. Gladly. But please, don't ask me to- don't ask me to be your stress relief. I can't take it. My heart can't take it."
"I'm not going to hurt you, Jaune," Yang denied.
"Ruby didn't think so either. I want to believe you, Yang, I want to," Jaune admitted. " But the drink- it's making you do things you shouldn't. Wouldn't. Like last time, back before graduation…"
"Five years ago I was drunk, not a liar. And I'm not a liar now," Yang said firmly, and Jaune stilled. "Alcohol removes inhibitions. It doesn't make you do things you don't want."
Jaune's hands moved to his head. "You're confusing me, Yang," he said, his momentary familiar certainty fading. "What you're saying-"
"Do you trust me?"
"Huh?" Jaune asked.
"Do you trust me?" Yang repeated. "If I said I'd catch you when you fall, would you believe me?"
"I'd trust you with my life," Jaune said, but looked away, the other words unspoken. He'd trust them- any of them- with his life in a heartbeat.
With his heart, on the other hand…
Yang took a deep breath.
"If I- if I asked you to trust me with more than that," she said slowly, "would your answer be the same as the answer to this question?"
"…that's cheating, Yang," Jaune pointed out.
"Answer the question, Jaune," she insisted.
Jaune hesitantly, eventually... gave a silent nod.
"Then believe the next four words I say," Yang said. "Jaune, I-"
Silence, choked words, and a metal fist that curled so tightly you could hear the stress within the clench-
"I'm not drunk this time."
"That was five," was his first response. "Or seven. You are drunk, aren't you?" he accused the very next breath. "You must be- you were tossing down drinks with me all night!"
"You know what I had," Yang pointed out softly. "Nothing but strawberry sunrises."
"Someone must have slipped something in," he tried.
"You watched my drinks."
"Then it must have been before we met- or- or-" he trailed off, unable to think of, unable to acknowledge what that 'or' might be. "You're drunk," he accused again, though this time he sounded desperate. "You have to be!"
Yang slowly reached out a hand to cusp his cheek.
"If I am, Jaune," she said, "it's only because I'm intoxicated by you."
Jaune stared at her, and she looked back- not a cheeky grin, not a hint of mirth, but just a twitch of the lips that hinted at a soft, sad smile.
He laughed.
"Heh. Heh. Ha ha ha… hahahaha!" Jaune descended into peals of laughter, slapping his forehead and looking up and laughing into the night sky.
"This is… this is too much," he managed as Yang watched silently. "Is that supposed to be a pickup line? Now? I can't believe it. This is too much. No way you did all that to set up some punchline."
"I didn't," Yang agreed, watching him carefully.
He was silent for a long, long minute as he watched the cobblestone.
"What are you up to, Yang?" he asked, quietly.
"I can't say," she admitted with absolute honesty. Really, she couldn't- and she'd tried who knows how many times. "What do you think I'm trying to do?"
"I don't know," Jaune confessed. "Or I thought I didn't know. But..."
Yang stayed silent.
"I can't think right right now, Yang. The you I knew- the you I thought I knew- she teased. Had fun. Even flirted. But she wasn't serious. Now… I don't know what to think right now."
"Then don't," Yang whispered. "Just come with me. Do you trust me?" Yang asked.
Jaune tensed, and then slowly, cautiously, unwound. "I'll trust you. Tonight," he conceded, as tension slowly seeped from his shoulders. "I mean, I've no clue what's going through your head, but when have I ever?"
She approached him. Carefully, cautiously, as if not to startle the intended mark.
"Here, let me get you," she said, even as she got him back on his feet and against her. He didn't resist, letting his head lazily lean against her. He briefly closed his eyes.
"Fine. I surrender. You win."
"Not yet I haven't," Yang said even as her right hand assumed a grip that would take a crowbar to pry loose.
Jaune blinked, looking at her even as his arm once more became familiar with her neck as it looped over. "You haven't?"
"It's still a work in progress. Don't you remember?" Yang asked.
He didn't. But rather than remind him what counted as victory, she was looking left and right at the intersection, a thoughtful look on her face.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Trying to figure out the quickest path to winning," Yang said, before looking at him. The way she was helping him stand, their faces were almost touching.
"Hey, I'm new in town. Mind giving me directions to your place?"
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End Sixteenth Round
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Author Note:
You know, every once in awhile readers and reviewers will take away something or have an idea that was never intended. It didn't even occur to me that people would think Yang was going to kidnap Jaune. I mean, I considered it as a plot line at one point, but it wasn't the intended takeaway of last chapter.
Welp. Closing in on the end. Who's ready for beat six?