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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[…she took him home.]
Not much later, they were there. Looking, leaning, a tension in the air they reached his apartment door. It wasn't an unhappy air. Yang's latest line was full of ease. But Jaune's silence reflected a tension they both felt. Had to feel, unless he was making the second-biggest presumption of his life.
"We're here," Jaune pointed out, indicating his door.
"Yeah. You good?" Yang asked as Jaune slid off her shoulder and into the wall.
"Just… reaching for keys," Jaune claimed as he reached into his jeans. "Where were they…?"
A jingle sounded behind them as Yang shook them, the key ring on her finger. "Left jacket pocket," she said, shrugging a bit in bemusement and proving that she was still wearing it.
"Oh," Jaune said dumbly, even as he stared at his jacket for a moment longer. "I'll, uh, be wanting it back," he said.
"Why?" Yang asked. "It'll be on your floor soon enough," she said, even as she began to start unzipping it from the top. "Along with the rest of your clothes."
"That's, er-"
"They're still sweaty, aren't they? You're not going to sleep in them, are you?" Yang asked, to Jaune's denials. "You don't to get a cold. You want to warm up, don't you?" she said, taunting his goosebumps with a soft brush against his skin.
"Yes," he admitted, somewhere between a confession and a desire.
"Then Jaune…"
"Yes Yang?" he shivered, not protesting her finger as it dragged across his body.
"Aren't you going to open the door?" she asked, finishing her drag to point towards the locked handle.
Jaune came back to life, and stumbled a bit as he did. Yang chuckled as he tried to fit the key in the lock. The door opened, but for a moment, Jaune didn't follow.
"Jaune?" Yang prompted. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
Jaune was quiet. "I'm not sure I should," he said, not looking back to see Yang's expression. "A man and a woman alone together- people might get the wrong idea."
"It's only the wrong idea if they're wrong," Yang hinted.
Jaune stilled. "That's not what I'm talking about this time," he denied. "I don't know what to think of you right now, Yang. I think I have the right idea... but if I'm not, I'm afraid of being wrong with you."
Yang began to say something, but Jaune cut her off, putting his hands on both sides of the doorway, as if blocking her from the portal.
"This is where I draw the line, Yang," he said. "No more jokes. No more flirts. No more teasing. I don't want any ambiguity. I assumed too much once before, and I've always regretted since." He held a hand up, and took a deep breath. "If this- if this is just a good time to you, then I've fun but it's time to stop. Go to the airport, go to your guy at the reunion, and say hi to everyone for me. When you're back in town, let me know how things turn out. I'll be here. As a friend," he emphasized.
Yang took a half a step forward. "And if I cross the line?"
He swallowed, but nervousness was giving way as he took half a step forward, putting them chest to chest. It wasn't fear in his eyes anymore.
"If you cross the line," he growled, "I'm going to assume things, no matter what you say. I'm going to do things I normally wouldn't. I'm going to make you prove every single thing you've claimed tonight. And then…" he trailed off, cupping her chin with his hand.
"And then?" Yang whispered.
Jaune leaned down and guided his lips to hers.
He didn't kiss her- quite. Just the corner. Just enough that it could be claimed to be the sloppily aimed kiss on the cheek befitting a drunk friend… if it wasn't the start of something more.
"Mm, you missed," Yang complained, leaning forward as he pulled back.
"Did I?" he asked, about as ambiguous as she was. "Whether you stay or go, I want you to know… I had a good time tonight, Yang. It was good seeing you again."
"It doesn't have to end yet," Yang said. "You could always invite me in for coffee."
"It's never just coffee," Jaune said, perhaps the most perceptive he'd been all night.
"True," Yang admitted, tiptoeing right up to the line. "But you want to invite me in anyway, don't you?"
"This isn't about me. It's about you," Jaune said, echoing her words from earlier in the night as he retreated behind the line of the doorway. "If you leave now, no harm no foul. Stay, and…" He trailed off, unable to hide the hunger in his gaze.
"Decisions, decisions," Yang toyed, unable to help herself. "Either way, I'll have a great story to share with everyone."
He didn't sigh. He didn't play along. He turned and walked away.
"Goodnight, Yang," Jaune said, turning and staggering inside. He didn't even close the front door- leaving it open, and leaving Yang with an excellent view of his back as he began to pull off his shirt as he turned the corner.
Because he was pulling off his shirt, Jaune could only heard the door close. He didn't hear foot steps, or feel a change in the breeze, and his aura didn't warn him of any attack.
Because it wasn't an attack. Just arms reaching behind him after he'd thrown his shirt in the corner and begun reaching for his pants. Her hands stopped his right above his belt.
"Jaune," her voice whispered, forehead leaning between his shoulder blades. "Do you remember that night five years ago, when you told me the sort of thing you wouldn't do?"
Jaune tried. It was hard when blood was rushing towards his head. "Something about… not taking advantage of a drunk friend?"
"Well," she whispered into his skin, her left hand beginning to unfasten his belt. "I would."
"Ya-"
He never had a chance to finish before Yang's prosthetic hand pulled him into another searing kiss, hotter than the last. This time he responded, turning around without breaking contact so he could pull her closer by the waist. Eventually, after his hands started taking the liberties he'd promised, they separated for air.
"This is-" he began, but Yang's patience for talking was long past.
"You've no one to blame but yourself, you know," she said, before giving a gentle push that sent him tumbling backwards towards his bed. Jaune had already almost forgotten her words by the time he, and his head, hit the bed.
"Ow," he said. It had almost hurt.
"Hate me in the morning," Yang whispered.
He wouldn't. There was only one thing she could do to make him even think that. But before he could say it, she followed him down and chased away any other thoughts until he woke after the last flight to Haven.
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End Last Call
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Author Note:
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