Chapter 23
Girl(s): Glynda
Tags(s): Mild Groping
Words: 8,070
The dishes were washed, dried, and put away in short order, surprising Jaune at how familiar he'd become in his teacher's dorm room. His ability to navigate what had been a strange kitchen grew easier and easier by the week. He knew she wanted him to think of it as their home, but it was too much and too fast for him to fully reconcile the fact that he was married to a woman who had her own place. A few months ago, he'd still been living with his parents, under curfew and following their rules.
Beacon had been meant to be a step toward independence, even if most of his financial responsibilities were handled by the school. But it had still been a step, and he'd been proud of himself for at least trying to be less of a brat. Finding a wife, getting a house, having kids, all of that had still felt like some far off fantasy he hadn't needed to worry about for years still. It was almost funny how quickly life can change.
The truth was that most of the time, he still felt like that kid getting teased by his sisters and counting on his mom for everything. A person who slept in every time he didn't have to be awake and was perfectly content waiting for the future to come to him rather than striving toward anything specific.
Pyrrha and Glynda needed more from him than that, however. And all he could do was his best, playing the part of a husband until it stopped feeling so alien. His parents had a good marriage, at least as best as he could tell, so it wasn't like he was completely clueless about what a husband looked like. And for everything else, TV and movies helped fill in the gaps. He didn't have the luxury of waiting for maturity to find him anymore. It was time to grow up. He just hoped that was enough to keep his wives happy.
He liked to think he was doing a decent job. At least, neither of them had outright called him a failure so far. But it was still something he found himself worrying about during the few moments of quiet in his life. Thankfully, it looked like Pyrrha had been happy after yesterday. Now, he just needed to keep that energy up for Glynda. A day in wasn't an excuse to be lazy, and she deserved as much effort as his first wife.
Laying back on the couch and waiting for Glynda to emerge, Jaune perked up at the sound of a doorknob turning. His eyes flashed open to watch the older woman emerge, and he wasn't disappointed.
Glynda found herself pausing in the doorway despite promising herself otherwise. She didn't want it to be a big deal. It wasn't a big deal. And yet, as soon as the door opened and she was standing before her husband, she couldn't help lingering—watching the way his eyes took in her relaxed attire with all the appraisal of an art critic.
A hint of regret jerked in the pit of her stomach. Part of her had considered changing into something nicer, but the pragmatist in her had asserted itself. If Jaune wanted to see how dressed when she wanted to relax, there wasn't any point in pretending. So she'd gone with her usual pair of purple sweatpants and a loose T-shirt.
If it were a little earlier in the year, then she would have at least been able to offer him some shorts to enjoy her legs. But an overnight cold snap had sucked the last of fall's warmth from the air, casting the kingdom of Vale in a chilly frost. And while Beacon's dorms were adequately heated year-round, something about the weather made it so the older woman had to work to keep her temperature comfortable.
"Wow."
Glynda's eyes never left Jaune's, so she was allowed to see his grin slowly spread across his young features. Slightly crooked with one eyebrow raised, his excitement appeared genuine, much to his wife's confusion. What could he possibly find enticing about an old woman without so much as a speck of makeup to disguise the fact?
Fortunately for the blonde, that was far from Jaune's image of her, admiring the loose tresses of pale straw that tumbled down her shoulders and tracing the clear skin of her pale cheeks, which were turning brighter by the second. Because where she saw a frumpy t-shirt that did nothing but hide her figure, all the teenage boy could see was her utter lack of a bra. And while her hair was loose and not nearly as neat as she likely preferred, Jaune enjoyed that too. She'd even left her glasses behind, letting him enjoy the dark emerald shade.
How many people got to see how long his wife's hair was? That it had a slight curl to it when it wasn't pulled taught to the back of her head? The strict perfectionist was the Glynda his wife shared with the world. Meanwhile, this flawed but beautiful creature was more…honest. Intimate. She held all of his wife's strength and will without any of the defenses people were prone to crafting for strangers.
Even the age on her face was bare for him to see, not that there was much beneath her makeup. For all the fuss he knew Glynda worried over their age difference, he could never see her as anything but beautiful. He wouldn't lie and say she could pass for a twenty-year-old because she couldn't. But that was what made her so attractive in his eyes. What had drawn him toward her in the first place, even when he'd known it was a bad idea to accept her invitation to her bedroom. She was older than him. An adult. With all the maturity and confidence that came with the title.
What were a few wrinkles compared to all of that?
"Stop it," Glynda admonished, trying and failing to completely strangle the warmth in her chest. It shouldn't be nearly so easy for one man to make her so happy.
"Stop what? I'm just sitting here, looking at my smoking-hot wife. Don't mind me." Jaune threw his hands behind his head.
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm perfectly plain. Worse than. I can't count the number of coffee stains on these pants."
"And you are working them," Jaune took a moment to eye the off-color splotches along her lap, whistling with approval.
"My hair is terrible. I didn't even get the chance to wash it this morning."
"Well, why don't you come over here, and I'll show you how much I care about all that?" Spoiler alert, not at all. And by the way Jaune was grinning at his wife, she could see it.
It was too sweet of an invitation to refuse, forcing the older woman's legs across the carpet of her apartment until she was standing over her husband. Her cheeks were pink, and her heart was light. It was easy to feel beautiful when you looked your best. When you had makeup and the right kind of bra and clothing that showed off all the things that drew men's attention no matter who you were.
It was something else when a man made you feel the same thing when you weren't all of those things. Or any of them. It was special. He was special. And as she leaned over to feel his hands cup her cheeks and draw her lips toward his, Glynda drew immense satisfaction from the reminder of why she had so willingly offered her everything to this seventeen-year-old man.
The kiss itself was slow and sweet. Lips pursed, her husband's mouth felt firm against her softer pair. And as her head tilted, giving way beneath the soft sigh fleeing from her lungs, the hand on her cheeks rose to test the loose nest of hair behind her ear.
Opening and closing her lips against his lower lip once, twice, three times, the wet sound echoed in her empty apartment. Her tongue flicked out and the brief sensation of pressure was all Jaune needed to match her passion, finding the tip of her appendage and tracing the sensitive taste buds with his own. The exchange lasted for a moment before they both retreated, returning to the focus on lips on lips sliding against each other.
Glynda moved closer before she stopped, bracing her hands on the couch on each side of her husband's shoulders. Another batch of thunderous heartbeats passed before she found herself straddling him, shifting her hands toward his hair in the same desperate need he'd shown her.
The solid shape of his strong thighs beneath her curvaceous hips was almost enough to help the older woman forget about her unfortunate condition. And when Jaune's hand reached up to catch one of her freely swinging breasts over her shirt, Glynda knew she needed to pull back. But she did so regretfully, slowly, amping down her affection with the same steady pace that had threatened to spiral out of control in the first place. And by the time she finally pulled away, maintaining her proud perch, Jaune was left with the familiar dumb grin of satisfaction he always wore when she was done with him, staring up into her foggy eyes with the same adoration and appreciation that had gotten them into this mess.
"I love you," Glynda muttered softly, intensely. Too intensely. The emotions throbbing in her chest had become too much to contain, and the words had sprung poured past her swollen lips.
Jaune didn't flinch so much as freeze at the profession. He wasn't offended. He wasn't upset to hear those words from someone he desperately cared about. He just wasn't sure how to respond without offending her, knowing that he couldn't return them. Not honestly. And of all the mistakes he was likely to make as he navigated this new life of his, he'd already sworn that a lack of honesty would not be one of them.
Glynda noticed his hesitation because of course she did. And while a part of her did entertain the briefest flash of hurt at being denied what she wished for so dearly, the majority of her ire was directed at herself for putting Jaune in this position to begin with. Rather than let this one hiccup paint the rest of their evening in a purple hue, Glynda spared them both the awkwardness and continued, "Even if you are the sappiest man I have ever known."
Jaune's smile was like a gasp of fresh air. He fell back into his role like they had never stopped, leaning up to place one last kiss against her lip. Glynda's eyes closed to savor the sensation, shuttering like a woman starved for affection.
"Just being honest," Jaune argued, releasing his wife's breasts to slip a hand underneath her shirt. But instead of her chest, he satisfied himself with the skin of her waist, resting his fingers against the gentle slope of Glynda's womanly figure. "You are so beautiful. In school. In bed. Right now. And I…care about you. So much. I need you to know how much I appreciate that you're in my life."
Glynda smiled despite herself. It was as much of an apology as he could make, and the professor accepted it as such. That's right. Jaune did care about her. And that was enough for now. As long as she was allowed to enjoy days like these, in his arms, wrapped in his tender heat, she could wait the rest of her life for those three simple words. She had found the man she loved. That he could not say the same back was only a small detail in what would be the long, long story of their lives.
"I know you do," Glynda acknowledged, soothing his fears with a kiss against the top of his head. Her lips lingered against Jaune's crown, doing their best to convey what couldn't be said. 'I am still here. You have not hurt me. I understand.'
Jaune must have understood if the sudden tension leaving his shoulders was any indication. Wrapping his arms around her midsection, he pulled his teacher closer against him, nestling his face into her bosom. Glynda's attention became nurturing as she held him there, running her nails against his scalp and feeling the heat of his breath seeping beneath the thin cotton of her top with every soothing exhale.
The two stayed like that for a moment. Glynda's earlier bout of self-consciousness had disappeared, allowing her to simply enjoy the intimate moment. And Jaune was content to absorb his wife's reassurance. It was important for both of them. And while not everything had been said, the two felt better that the subject had been approached at all.
In the end, it was Glynda who eventually broke the spell that had consumed them. Lifting her face from Jaune's hair, she already missed the pinewood he used for shampoo. At the same time, she leaned back, robbing Jaune of the soft warmth of her bountiful chest. He appeared as pleased about the interruption, pouting obstinately. At least until his wife reminded him, "Now, I believe you said something about a second surprise?"
The teenager's attitude vanished like it had never existed. Anyone would think he was the receiver of this little treat rather than the giver. Glynda was amused enough to let it show, the edge of her lips curling as her husband's eyes shot wide.
"Okay, off!" He directed, giving his teacher's rump a few firm taps to get her going. Glynda's eyebrows rose to her hairline. "Up, up. Come on."
'Well, excuse me!' the older woman held back her guffaw. Instead, she kept her voice even as she asked, "Is there somewhere specific you'd like me?" Oh, how much more she would enjoy that question if she were a little more available.
"Other end of the couch," Jaune grinned. And when she complied, he followed with. "Now, put your feet in my lap." And if Glynda hadn't figured out Jaune's plan by then, that felt like a significant clue. Nevertheless, she obeyed, laying back against the couch's armrest with both feet laid in her husband's lap. The teacher soon found the young man's hands wrapped around her, strong thumbs kneading into the sensitive skin of her soles.
"I get a foot massage?" Glynda asked, shivering slightly as her slightly cooler foot was warmed by Jaune's hands. Starting from the bottom, Jaune worked her skin in slow, firm circles. Passing over the arch, a shock of something pleasurable forced Glynda's eyelids to flutter as she unconsciously relaxed further into the couch. The blond's thumbs eventually reached her toes, prompting him to return to her sole and repeat the gesture, focusing pressure on the spots she had reacted to the most.
"You get a foot massage," Jaune confirmed, once again dripping with pride as he watched the effect of his touch take hold.
"What's the occasion?" Glynda murmured, far from complaining. If she'd known her husband came with these kinds of benefits, she might have insisted on a solo date much earlier.
Jaune's cheeky grin evolved into a full smirk. "Well, I have it on good authority that heels aren't the most comfortable footwear. And the fact you spend all day in them regardless hasn't gone unnoticed. And no, not just because of how incredible they make your ass look in that skirt."
Glynda suppressed a smile. Her husband's fondness for her rear when she was dressed up wasn't a secret, but that didn't mean it wasn't nice to be reminded. "Aura helps," The blonde admitted. But only so much. It was still a relief to slip them off at the end of the day, albeit not as much as her damn bra.
"And I hope my hands help even more," Jaune challenged, adding pressure on his next pass. Glynda felt her back arch before she could catch herself, a quiet groan threatening the back of her throat.
Goodness, she was a lucky woman, wasn't she? Glynda would be lying if she tried to claim there hadn't been some trepidation when she'd resolved to marry this young man. Regardless of the ring's influence, he was seventeen, and she'd imagined all kinds of issues they would eventually face due to her husband's age. It was just that she'd decided afterward that the good outweighed the bad. At least enough for her to go through with her plan of seduction.
And yet, most of her worries had gone unfounded. Jaune was kind, attentive, could cook, and now she learned he already knew how to offer these kinds of services. If she didn't know any better, it was almost like someone else had already primed the young man for married life. At the very least, he felt strangely accustomed to satisfying women's demands. And as his hands shifted from one foot to start tending its lonely twin, the older woman gave in to her curiosity.
"Dare I ask how you managed to pick up this talent?" Glynda's tone became foreboding, as if she was expecting to learn about some hidden past or a third wife he'd kept tucked away this whole time.
Jaune's answer was a snort, followed by a wry twist of his lips. "It's nothing all that exciting," he reassured. "You grow up with siblings, and you learn to get competitive. And I've got a lot of siblings."
"Seven sisters," Glynda recalled, still silently marveling at the thought.
"Seven sisters," Jaune confirmed, "with two TVs, three bathrooms, five bedrooms total, and a fridge usually emptier than not. I mean, we weren't poor or anything, but that's a lot of people in one house. We usually ended up fighting over the smallest stuff. It always felt so important at the time, though. It wasn't long before we started treating favors like our own household currency. I could watch the show I wanted to watch, but only as long as I did Coral's chores for the week. Or I'd let one of my sisters have a snack I'd been saving if they promised to let me shower ahead of them in the morning. It was hectic, and we spilled more than one drop of blood, but we made it work. It was our family." The quiet fondness on his face was proof enough of that.
"Am I to assume you picked up this skill as your own contribution?" Glynda mused.
Jaune nodded gravely. "Oh, yeah. Turns out that being the sole brother kind of limited my options. It wasn't like I could trade clothes or makeup for what I wanted like the rest of them. And none of my sisters cared that much whenever I offered my comic books. But foot massages? Everyone loves those."
It sounded like utter chaos. And yet, Glynda couldn't deny the smile on her face as she listened to Jaune talk about his family. Her family, too, should she ever have the misfortune of meeting them. Part of her longed for that day as much as she dreaded it, if only to gain some of that understanding Jaune had been talking about. His family was as much a part of him as her job was part of her. She prayed that his parents wouldn't object too strongly to her interest in their only son.
"Tell me about them," Glynda asked, closing her eyes as she listened. Like it or not, she would need to introduce herself someday, and she might as well prepare herself for the day as well as she could.
"My family?" Jaune blinked, unconsciously leaning back in his seat as he thought about the collection of blondes he'd left behind. Truth be told, it had been a while since they'd crossed his mind. Not because he was trying to forget them. It was just…easier. Running away had felt so necessary at the time, but he hadn't been prepared for the guilt that had followed those cold nights on the road to Vale. Or how much he would miss them once all the fighting and teasing had disappeared.
"Well, there's Saphron," he started, "she's the oldest. And was basically a second mom to me and the younger kids growing up. But she got married herself a few years ago to her wife, Terra. Now they've got a kid and moved to Mistral."
"Were you close?" Glynda asked, trying to picture this young woman as Jaune spoke. The blonde hair and blue eyes were all too easy to conjure. The kind smile only followed after she heard her husband chuckle fondly.
"We got along pretty well. Mostly because she never had to worry about me raiding her closet when she wasn't home. But I always felt kind of bad about how much responsibility she was under growing up. I did my best not to cause too much trouble when she was the one watching us all, you know? And I like to think she appreciated it."
Glynda nodded along, taking notes. It looked like she would need to try for this Saphron's approval as much as Jaune's parents. Not that she worried he would leave her if they pressed him, but clearly his oldest sister was important to him, and it would be easier if they could all get along.
"Elise and Coral are next," Jaune continued, "in that order. Both are still at home, but only Coral is still in school. Last I heard, Elise was still 'finding herself,' whatever that means. Last I saw, she was part-timing at the only diner in town. Talked a lot about saving up to see the world but seeing how much of her checks she spent on clothes, I'm not sure if that's going to happen any time soon. And Cecile, um." Jaune paused here, looking for something to say. "She likes books?"
"That's it?" Glynda challenged, "She likes books?" Jaune's answer was a helpless shrug.
"We never talked much," the blond admitted. "I was always just the annoying little brother. If she wasn't by herself locked in her room, she preferred to spend time with Rosalie or Violetta, the twins. They were all close enough in age to get along…mostly. But that's kind of how it is when you're the single boy in a house of women."
"Sounds lonely," Glynda mused, almost a question.
Jaune answered anyway, shaking his head. "Not really. Even if we didn't hang out that much, we were still family. And it's hard to feel too lonely when you're trying to fit five kids on a three-person couch. Girl elbows are so sharp…"
Glynda felt herself smile. "And the last two?"
"Fleur and Cerise," Jaune answered. "My younger sisters. Both are adorable, and they know it. Mom's better about keeping them from getting too rambunctious but you should see how quick they can make my dad fold." The blond shook his head. "I'm pretty sure he would actually help them get away with murder as long as they batted their eyelashes enough."
"He sounds like a wonderful father," Glynda commented, eyes softening. Exactly the kind of father she could imagine Jaune becoming someday, gods willing. Unfortunately, Jaune's hands momentarily froze in their ministrations. Not for long. But her husband's hesitation was enough to force Glynda's eyes to open and catch the uncertain expression on the blond's face. "Perhaps not?"
"What? No!" Jaune's eyes snapped to hers, more guilty than panicked. "I mean, yes. I mean…it's complicated." But Glynda wasn't going anywhere, and rather than press her husband for answers, she let the young man find the words himself, patiently waiting to see if he wanted to continue.
"We just don't really get along, you know?" The words fell from his lips like a gasp, desperate to escape. "It doesn't help that he works a lot. Eight kids and a wife are a lot of mouths to feed, and being a huntsman means he's usually away from the house taking missions. I used to want to be just like him! Strong and cool and… But he wouldn't train me. And the more I asked him, the more he seemed to drift away. Eventually, I guess I gave up. Tried to find a few other things I could do with my life. But by then, there was already this wall between us. I don't know."
Jaune fell silent, a forlorn expression taking hold as his hands fell completely still. "He wasn't a bad dad. My sisters all love him. I love him. After a while, it started to feel like maybe I wasn't the son he was hoping for?"
And like that, Glynda's priorities toward Jaune's family fell back to two. She didn't know the Arc patriarch, and she couldn't fathom the difficulty of juggling eight children. But she was on Jaune's side before anyone else's and she rapidly decided that she didn't require the approval of anyone who made her husband's face appear so lost.
"His loss," she answered, unblinking when Jaune turned a raised eyebrow in her direction. She refused to look away, refused to appear anything but completely sure in the face of Jaune's wavering. And after a few heartbeats, she was rewarded with a fleeting smile flashing across the blond's lips.
"What about you?" Jaune coughed, clearing the emotion from his throat and in desperate need of a distraction. He'd thought about home and his family more than all the days he'd been at Beacon. "Any in-laws I should be worried about?" Because somehow, the thought of meeting the people who raised a woman like Glynda filled him with an icy worry.
Glynda wasn't nearly as emotional as she told him the truth. "Fortunately not, in case you're disappointed. My family wasn't nearly as…multiplicative as your own. I was an only child—no siblings. Leaving just Mother, Father, and I. He passed away shy of my fifteenth birthday. And Mother followed him about…ten years ago? Yes, that sounds right."
Jaune flinched, feeling like he'd stepped on a land mine. But Glynda appeared hardly phased by the loss. Then again, she'd had years to process the grief. Still feeling awkward, Jaune did the only thing he could do and offered his condolences. "I'm sorry about your parents. You're dad especially. I can't imagine that was easy for you so young."
His wife nodded her head, her eyes drifting toward a far wall as she accepted the sentiment. "It was," she acknowledged. "Believe it or not, I would have described myself as something of a daddy's girl at the time. Like you, I wanted to be like him. Although, he was somewhat more helpful in that regard than your own father. He hated the idea of putting myself in danger, but not as much as the thought of leaving me defenseless. He recognized the hard state of the world and wanted me to be safe. Or, as safe as one can be with Grimm beyond the walls."
"What was he like?" Jaune asked, picturing a man as hard and taciturn as his daughter. Instead, he was surprised when Glynda closed her eyes and explained the exact opposite.
"Warm," the blonde sighed the word as if the single syllable somehow encompassed the lost man enough to bring some of his essence back into the room. "It's hard to remember. The few memories I've held onto feel so faded nowadays. However, I can still remember how warm he felt. All he had to do was walk into the room, and his smile made everything better. He could make a friend as quickly as it took to shake their hand."
"That's…" Jaune didn't finish, trying to avoid offense. But his wife wasn't a fool and shot her husband a wry grin.
"Surprising?" she finished, "Yes. Unfortunately, I take after my mother in most regards, no matter how much I've tried to deny the fact. Although if you think me austere, understand that I'm practically hysterical compared to that woman. She certainly accused me of it often enough."
Jaune didn't bother hiding his balk this time. "Gods, was she made of ice?"
"I certainly thought so at times," The professor admitted, suddenly wishing she'd thought to grab a bottle of wine before sitting down. "After father passed, you wouldn't believe the fights we'd have. For the longest time, I couldn't imagine what such a wonderful man could have seen in such a cold woman, even enough simply to produce myself. However…as I've aged, I like to think I've come to understand her better. Possibly even forgive her." Finally, a sense of grief leaked through her composed features, forcing her eyebrows into a subtle arch.
"She was…" the older woman searched for the word, "terrifying. Unshakable. I used to think that if someone dropped a bomb on our house, she would be the only thing left standing. But in the end, she was still just a woman. A civilian, at that! Not even any aura to protect her. When the Grimm came, she never stood a chance."
The woman's lips pressed together, flattening into a pale line. "I must have told her it wasn't safe a thousand times! Living in a settlement was fine when Father was with us. But on her own? I'd begged her to move to the city once I started working at Beacon. But she refused every time. That stubborn old goat. I thought she was insane. I even told her as much. It wasn't until after…and it was time to sell the house that I ever stopped to really look at things from her perspective."
Glynda's eyes focused, turning on her husband. And as Jaune stared back, the shadows that had infected her green orbs seemed to melt away. "It was their home." The older woman muttered, her tone softening. "She loved him as much as I did, in her own way. I just couldn't see it. Not until I understood that she would have rather kept what little she had left of her husband than be safe."
Falling silent, the two allowed the solemn moment a chance to breathe. Jaune found himself shocked by the story, learning about two people who had meant so much to the person he cared for. He found himself struck with his own sense of loss at the sheer fact that he would never get to see them for himself.
"I wish I could have met them," the blond softly admitted, brushing a comforting thumb across the palm of his wife's foot. Only for Glynda to surprise him with a snort of laughter.
"I don't," she quipped, enjoying the faux hurt that splashed across her husband's face. "Honestly, Jaune. I can practically hear what my mother would say if she learned I married one of my students. And it wouldn't be flattering. As for Father…I like to believe he would have been happy for us eventually. But I do recall him being quite against the notion of his only daughter dating, never mind getting married. Of course, I was fourteen at the time."
"If it's any consolation," Jaune sighed, "I don't think Mom or Dad are going to care about your age very much." Glynda's dubious eyebrow said everything about what she thought of that. "No, really. Between running away from home, stealing my dad's sword, and marrying two different women? Trust me, they're going to be so busy skinning me alive that they won't have time for you or Pyrrha."
Dramatics aside, the older woman was curious about meeting her husband's family. And the fact that they didn't even know he was alive, much less married, did nudge at her. "Have you thought about contacting them at all now that you're settled? It's not like they could take you back."
"Yeeeesssss?" Jaune winced, unsure of the answer himself, "Noooooo? There's just a lot going on still. I was thinking maybe after the school year's over, and we have some time to ourselves."
The fact that that was still months away didn't go unnoticed by either of them. Glynda wasn't impressed by her husband's answer. "I won't tell you what to do either way." she compromised, features placid. "It's your family, and you know how to deal with them best. I'll simply ask you to imagine how you would feel if our future child attempted half of what you've inflicted on your poor mother."
Jaune answered with a real flinch. And while it wasn't like he couldn't understand where she was coming from, neither was he nearly as able to put himself in that headspace. As far as he was concerned, babies were still more of a concept than a tangible concern. Much less the people they would grow into. "I'll think about it," he promised. If only because he likely wouldn't have a choice now that the can of worms had been opened.
Would they be proud of him for everything he'd accomplished? Or did his theft and departure in the middle of the night taint anything he made for himself? He doubted his mother would approve of his wives in any case. She was a wonderful woman and stronger than anyone had any right to be in a world like theirs, but being the only son amongst seven other sisters had attracted more of his mom's attention than he always liked.
Not that Jaune was completely blameless. Gods knew he'd taken advantage of the position enough to act like a brat. But that just made it that much harder to be taken seriously after being babied his whole life. Once he accepted that his father was never going to train him, he'd simply drifted through the motions of adolescence, bouncing from one curiosity to the next.
Of course he hadn't been taken seriously when he suddenly reclaimed interest in their father's profession so many years later. Most kids started their training before they were twelve—younger if you had a parent to teach you. And he thought he could catch up at the ripe age of sixteen? If his father had been brisk in his refusal before, afterward, the older man had been downright dismissive.
That had probably hurt the most. Not his mother's confusion or his sister's outright teasing, but how little Jaune's father had even entertained the idea before brushing the matter aside. And how else did hurt children behave than lashing out?
In the blond's case, that meant proving his father wrong, with or without his help, in some bastardized attempt at proving to his family that he was mature. It hadn't been until afterward, and it was too late to go back, that he'd recognized he'd accomplished the exact opposite. What was more childish than throwing a tantrum and running away?
Glynda said that he'd already proved himself, but Jaune disagreed. He'd made it to Beacon, but only because he'd been too scared to turn back home and face his family. He'd gotten through initiation, but only because of Pyrrha. If he was going to prove himself, he needed to get stronger. He needed to show his father… Pyrrha… Glynda…
Gods, he was tired.
"Okay!" Jaune perked up, forcibly banishing the heavy thoughts from his mind. "Think you're ready for your next surprise?" He couldn't slow down now. Not yet. He needed to keep focusing on the present.
Glynda's eyes fluttered like she'd misunderstood. "Next surprise?" First dinner and then a foot massage was already more than she'd been expecting for the day. "Jaune, that's really not necessary."
"Nonsense," Jaune brushed the words aside, dropping Glynda's feet from his lap so he could stand. "Your day, remember? And I've got it all planned out. So you can sit back and enjoy." He laughed, but it sounded…not right. And besides, when the older woman had asked for her own day, a constant stream of favors had been hardly her intention.
Unfortunately, she couldn't stop him before Jaune approached the corner of the living room where a previously unseen guitar case had been tucked away. With a click and a flourish, Jaune whipped around, the simple instrument proudly brandished against his chest. Incredulity bled from the teacher's face as her husband stalked back toward the couch, falling on one knee with a bold strumming of strings, filling the tense quiet with a passable cord.
"I…" Glynda paused, staring at the picture, "wasn't aware you knew how to play guitar."
"My darling wife, prepare yourself to be serenaded. Are you ready?" Glynda's mouth opened as if to answer. But for once in her life, the unflappable woman found herself too shaken to respond. Not that that stopped Jaune. With a flick of his wrist, his guitar pick began plucking at the strings in a slow, romantic rhythm.
"Ohhhhhhhhh~!"
"Nope!" Glynda refused, cutting Jaune off as quickly as he started. Merciless, without hesitation. Caught off guard, the music fell, and the blond's hands froze in place. "That is… no, thank you." The professor corrected herself, seeing her husband's surprised expression. "As lovely as that sounds, I would prefer you not." Ever. Jaune had proven to host quite a few talents. Singing, however, was not one of them.
"Are you sure?" Jaune asked, tilting the guitar's neck up in question. "I might not seem it, but you're looking at a guy with six months of consistent guitar practice under his belt." Glynda didn't so much as blink, staring him down until he admitted, "Okay, semi-consistent." Again, she stared. "Every weekend." One last pause. "Okay! Fine. The actual practice was…spoty. But I still watched enough tutorials to learn a few chords!" Strumming up and down, he showcased said skills with a beaming grin, almost like he expected his wife to be impressed.
Glynda was not.
Jaune coughed. "You know what? You're right. Guitar was a bad idea. How about we move on to, um-." The blonde's smile faltered as he tried to remember what activity came after the guitar serenade. Falling quiet, the younger man began to mutter to himself. "Okay, it was the poem, right? But, no. No, that's after dinner. Watching the sunset? Way too early. Maybe…the slow dance?"
Meanwhile, Glynda continued watching on with a mixture of amused exasperation and worry. The latter quickly took precedence, forcing her to confront the issue before her. She could see how much he was pushing himself. She simply needed to understand why. "Jaune," She cut him off, forcing his attention back at her. "I think we need to have a talk. Why don't you sit down?"
Jaune's rambling froze as his eyes stretched, peaking at his wife like he'd done something wrong. But to his relief, she didn't look angry. Maybe a little tense, but he wasn't much better. "Is everything okay?" he still worried, slowly walking back to his seat. Glynda didn't answer until he was beside her, close enough to feel the dip of the cushion when his weight settled beside her.
"That's what I'd like to ask," she sounded confused more than anything. "What is all this?"
It was Jaune's turn to blanch. He didn't understand the question? "All what?"
"This," Glynda insisted. "Don't get me wrong. I loved that you cooked for me. And the foot massage was wonderful. But you know none of that was necessary, right? There's being thoughtful, Jaune, and then there's…whatever this is."
Wait, she was upset because he was doing too much? "I-I'm just," Jaune stumbled, searching for the right word. "This is what husbands do, right? I'm just trying to do husband things." Granted, that had been a little bit easier with Pyrrha since they'd gone out to do things but he'd done his best to curate enough activities to keep his other wife happy. At least, he'd thought so. But as he watched his wife's face, her confusion gave way to understanding, quickly followed by disapproval.
"Jaune," Glynda patiently began. "Who am I?"
Oh, Gods. She'd slipped back into teacher mode. Usually, that was pretty hot, but Jaune found himself unusually cautious as he approached the question.
"Glynda?" he tried, only to immediately regret the answer. Glynda's green eyes bored into his, all but demanding he try again. "My wife?"
"Much better," Glynda nodded. "And that makes you…?"
"Your husband," Jaune answered much faster this time, confident in what she was looking for. And he was right, accepting his reward of another firm nod.
Glynda's hand moved to claim his thigh. Not sexually, but to enforce his focus as she went on. "That's right. You're my husband. I'm your wife. We are married. And that means anything we do together should count as 'husband things.'" as he'd so eloquently put it. "No one's expecting you to do all of this just because we're spending time together."
"Oh," Jaune winced, seeing where he'd messed up. At least in part. "I thought this was what you wanted?"
"It was nice," she conceded. It wasn't like she wanted Jaune to think she was upset with him, because she wasn't. "And I certainly won't turn down any future foot rubs. But no, this wasn't what I had in mind when I asked to spend our day inside. I meant what I said before. As long as we're together, I don't mind if we spend the whole day watching TV, as long as we can do it together." And after a pause, "preferably cuddling."
Jaune had heard her before. Except, he'd taken the words with the same sincerity he'd come to expect from the fairer sex. He'd heard his mom say she didn't care what she and his dad did for a date enough times to know that she had, in fact, cared quite a bit about where they ended up. You could only grow up watching your dad get stuck on the couch so many times before you learned that "I'm not picky," really meant, "You better know what I want, and you've got one chance to figure it out."
Assuming the same out of Glynda had been his mistake. From their very first date she had made it clear that she worked very hard to communicate clearly. She didn't say what she didn't mean, one of the things he'd enjoyed most about her.
"I guess," Jaune's grin turned sheepish, "I was worried about being too lazy. Or like I wasn't willing to show you any effort."
Glynda's fingers squeezed comfortingly as her lips curled. "Thank you. Relationships are work, make no mistake. Anyone who doesn't recognize that is doomed to an unpleasant surprise at their first roadblock. Compromising, understanding your partner, and anticipating their needs are all important aspects that take time and effort to master.
"However," the professor contradicted herself, relaxing her lecturing tone in favor of something far more gentle, "Relationships shouldn't only be effort. I've made that mistake in the past myself, believing if I worked hard enough and put everything into my partner and their needs, I could force it all to work. But that's not how love works. Too much stress over too long of a time quickly becomes resentment, and that is the last thing I want between us, Jaune."
The husband in question drew his eyebrows together, trying and failing to picture himself resenting either of his wives. He cared about them so much. Of course he should be happy to do whatever he could to make them happy.
Except, something made him pause at that thought. A sudden influx of memories of his childhood and a similar young blonde who did whatever he could to make his father happy. And, while Jaune still loved his father, the bright emotion had become tainted over time. Complicated. And the strain in their relationship felt like a close enough glimpse into the future to hint at what Glynda was talking about.
Love and hate were not exclusive.
"I don't want that either," Jaune admitted, shivering slightly. Glynda answered by shifting in her seat until their shoulders touched.
"I don't want you to worry anymore about being lazy. I've seen how hard you're working for Pyrrha and I. We already ask so much of you, balancing two relationships at once. And It's only going to get worse once we add more to our family. It would be extremely unreasonable of us to ask that you be the perfect husband for all of us all the time. It's absurd to expect that even when you only have one partner to worry about.
"That's part of the reason I asked for a day inside. To give us both a chance to relax and simply enjoy some quiet time together. I didn't get married looking for a man who would constantly shower me with romantic gestures. I wanted to get married to find a companion. Someone who cares about me. A man to share my life with, in all its ups, downs, and mundanity. Someone for me to come home to. And as long as you can provide any of that, I'll be the happiest woman in the world."
Jaune let his wife's words sink in, already feeling some of his stress fade away. Leaning into her warmth, he felt the sigh in his chest before it escaped. "I am kinda tired," he admitted warily.
"I can tell," Glynda nodded, reaching behind him to thread her fingers through his hair. His next breath carried a moan as he all but melted into her palm.
"I mean, yesterday was a lot of fun, don't get me wrong. But it was still a lot. A lot of walking. A lot of people. I was actually really happy today was going to be the two of us, even when I did worry about what we were going to do." Jaune wrapped his arm around Glynda as he spoke, all but pulling her into his lap. Her fingers never stopped, lulling Jaune into a spell free of stress. His body suddenly felt so heavy that it was no surprise when he started to lean onto his side, dragging his wife down with him.
"I'm happy, too," Glynda hummed, closing her eyes as she felt her head fall against Jaune's bicep. The couple had fallen into a spooning position, with Jaune sandwiched between the back of her couch and his wife. This put Glynda teetering on the edge, but she didn't mind. Not when it gave her the excuse to cuddle that much closer into his chest, sighing peacefully.
"And this is really all you want? You're sure?" Jaune asked one last time, feeling his eyelids starting to droop close. His arm tightened around her stomach, pulling her hips into his crotch as his legs drew up to cradle hers.
Glynda's answer was honest and breathless. "Oh, Dearest. I couldn't imagine asking for more." And a few heartbeats later, the older woman felt the last of her husband's tension evaporate as he faded into sleep, his long, warm breaths washing across the top of her head.
'Yes,' Glynda thought to herself, cocooned by her husband's warm wrapped around her, 'this is more like it.' No fuss, no worries. Simply two people existing in the same place and happier because of it.
Content to let her husband nap for as long as he liked, Glynda reached toward the small table in front of the couch, grabbing the control. The TV set against the wall flashed to life, releasing a brief shout of dialog before the blonde decreased its volume to a whisper. She then flipped through a few channels before finding something familiar enough to avoid any concentration, allowing her to simply enjoy the flashing images as she relaxed in peace.
Placing the remote down within reach, Glynda settled in for her weekend, glazed eyes ignoring the TV while she nuzzled her head into Jaune's arm, a content sight fluttering from her nose. And all the while, her hand found the arm wrapped around her middle, running her fingers along its shape in slow, comforting appreciation.
A/N: Jaune's got a lot on his plate right now. And thinking he needs to be perfect to do a good job felt like a good conflict for him to struggle with, considering how much he's failed in the past. Glynda catching that when Pyrrha couldn't doesn't mean anything except that she has enough relationship experience to recognize the signs and confront them before they became an issue. Does that mean Jaune's going to stop overcompensating because of one conversation? Of course not. But it's a step in the right direction.
We've got one more chapter of Glynda's date (I'm pretty sure) before we move onto the next arc. At this point, I'm just going to promise to update as quickly as I can until I find the time/motivation to get back on schedule. Thanks to everyone who has shown their patience and appreciation. I'm still reading every comment/review and it means a lot to hear from you guys.