Dorian Sterling had been called many things in his life. A slacker, a joker, a handsome motherfucker (mostly by himself), but never predictable.
So, naturally, his teammates were stunned when he signed up for the reputedly most difficult first-year elective at Beacon: Grimm Behavior Studies.
With his tousled auburn hair, piercing green eyes, permanently open uniform blazer, and complete disregard for ties, Dorian gave off a delinquent vibe – though he preferred to think of it as charmingly roguish. He didn't have stubble yet, but he was the type of guy who would rock it ten years down the line. Handsome in a way that made girls swoon – he liked to think – and teammates roll their eyes.
His team had practically choked on their breakfast when they saw his course registration.
"Grimm Behavior Studies?" his strategically inclined teammate had said, blinking as though trying to decipher a particularly tricky riddle. "You do realize that's one of the hardest electives?"
"What can I say? I'm a man of culture," Dorian had replied, casually leaning back in his chair, the picture of studied disinterest. "Expanding my intellectual horizons and all that."
"Right," drawled the Faunus on his team, ears twitching with amusement. "That's why you spent all of last week dodging History homework until the night before."
Dorian had shrugged, unbothered. "Doesn't mean I can't turn over a new leaf. Besides…" He shot them a sly grin. "This one sounds kinda fun."
It had sounded fun. The idea of learning about what made Grimm tick appealed to his sense of curiosity. And sure, cultivating an air of academic nonchalance might have been part of his carefully maintained brand, but he wasn't actually against working hard when something intrigued him. It was just… not something he liked to advertise.
He regretted it almost immediately.
On the very first day of class, the professor announced that the semester would revolve around a single, semester-long research project conducted in pairs, chosen at random.
Dorian had barely registered the groans from the other students before the professor called his name. "Dorian Sterling… and Weiss Schnee."
For a moment, the lecture hall seemed to go quiet. The famous Ice Queen herself turned toward him, her pristine uniform practically glowing under the fluorescent lights, her expression icy and unreadable.
Dorian had to fight the urge to laugh. Of course. Just my luck.
They locked eyes, and in that single glance, an unspoken understanding passed between them.
This semester was going to be interesting.
Weiss was not amused.
First, she had not been made leader of her team. Her. The most qualified, disciplined, and focused member of Team RWBY. Instead, that honor had gone to Ruby Rose—a fifteen-year-old child who, fine, had skipped two years to attend Beacon, which was objectively impressive. But did that excuse her klutzy, scatterbrained tendencies? No, it did not.
Then there was her team. Yang and Blake, for all their combat skills, seemed utterly uninterested in furthering their academic knowledge about Grimm. Did they not realize this knowledge could save their lives someday? Of course they didn't. They were too busy doodling, napping, or, in Yang's case, cracking terrible jokes.
And now this. She was paired with an irreverent clown.
She'd noticed him first on the day of initiation, when teams were being formed. He'd been made the leader of Team SLVR (pronounced Silver, how original). Why him? He didn't even seem particularly strong. Sure, he had this sort of charm about him – messy auburn hair, those annoyingly bright green eyes, and that perpetual smirk like he'd just heard the punchline to a joke only he understood – but none of that made him leadership material.
At first, he hadn't bothered her. She had bigger things to worry about after initiation, like keeping Ruby from tripping over her own scythe which she insisted on carrying everywhere. But then she'd noticed him during their shared history class, slouched at the back of the room, head resting on his folded arms.
He was asleep.
The sheer audacity of it had nearly made her drop her pen. How could someone be so brazenly disrespectful? Professor Oobleck was delivering an important lecture about the Fall of Mountain Glenn – a key moment in human history – and this… this delinquent couldn't even stay awake?
Weiss had half a mind to march over and wake him herself, but she refrained. It wasn't her responsibility to correct the behavior of others, no matter how infuriating it might be. Still, she couldn't help glancing back at him every so often, each time growing more irate at his complete lack of regard for what was clearly a superior learning opportunity.
She did feel vindicated when the professor called him out after class.
She tried to ignore him after that. Truly, she did. But then came today – the first day of Grimm Behavior Studies. And the universe, in its infinite cruelty, had paired her with him.
Weiss tightened her grip on her pen, the tip pressing hard against the page of her notebook. This is fine, she told herself, ignoring the faint scratching sound as she inadvertently gouged the paper. I can handle this. It's just one semester. One project. I've dealt with worse.
At that moment, she caught his eye. Dorian Sterling had the gall to flash her a lazy grin from across the lecture hall, like this was all some kind of joke.
Weiss's eye twitched. One semester suddenly felt like an eternity.