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Yang knocks on her door, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. They hadn't had much time to talk, after the kiss, but they'd spoken enough while running. There'd been no real chance to talk alone since then, but they both wanted… something. And they'd agreed to leave the complicated conversations till tomorrow. They were both tired, wrung out emotionally. Blake had said she wanted this too.
Still, nervous.
There's a brief pause before she hears Blake call out, "Come in." She sounds nervous too.
Yang opens the door and slips in, letting the lock click back into place as she closes the door behind her. Technically, they're here as full Huntresses, guests of General Ironside, but she still feels like she's sneaking out of her room, temporary as it is.
Blake was reading, although she's placed the book face down. She looks nervous too. And a bit surprised, like she hadn't actually expected Yang to come.
The faint nervousness disappears. From what Blake has shared about her past with the White Fang, she didn't have much experience with actual romance. Certainly not healthy experiences. It's Yang's job to make this a good experience.
"Hey."
"...hi." Okay, not off to an excellent start.
"Whatcha reading?"
"Just some poetry." Blake tries to say it nonchalantly, but a downturned face and a faint blush give her away.
Yang just nods and walks over, ignoring the book till it's in reach, then snatches it and dances back as Blake tries to grab it.
"Hey!" Blake is scowling at her, but she doesn't seem upset, and she's certainly distracted from any nervousness.
Yang opens it to the bookmarked page and starts skimming, before grinning at Blake, who's genuinely blushing .
"I was just…I had the book with me-" Yang cuts her off with a smile.
"You don't have to explain it. I think it's cute." Yang has never seen Blake blush this much before. She turns back to the page, finding a familiar poem and starts to recite, giving Blake time to compose herself.
"...So long lives this, and this gives life to thee," she finishes the sonnet, finally looking up at Blake. She expected some mild blushing, or mock applause. Instead Blale is staring at her with an expression Yang can't place, her mouth hanging slightly open. Yang feels a familiar defensiveness as she speaks
"What? I've read poetry before. And you can't exactly do that and escape the love sonnets."
Blake is still wide eyed, and Yang realizes it's not That sort of surprise as Blake wets her lips. "Read another."
Yang holds back a laugh. If this is Blake's idea of foreplay… She takes a few steps closer to Blake as she turns back to the book. She's about to start on the next sonnet on the page when she decides against it. She flips back to the table of contents, scanning for one in particular…there.
Blake gives her a puzzled look as Yang flips to the correct page, makes sure she's remembered correctly and starts.
She makes it all the way to "... And dumb presagers of my speaking breast," before the book is shoved aside and Blake is kissing her.
She actually takes a step back, with how fast Blake collided with her. And then she's pulling Blake with her as they crash into the wall behind them, kissing hard enough to leave bruises. Whatever initial nervousness Blake may have felt, she isn't feeling it now.
Eventually, her hands slide from Blake's hair to her hips and she pulls Blake closer. Blake obliges, pushing Yang into the wall, her thigh sliding between Yangs. Yang enjoys this for a moment, then slides her hands a bit lower and in one easy motion picks Blake up and spins them, so Blake is now against the wall, her thigh now between Blake’s.
Blake makes a sound that could generously be referred to as a squeak in surprise, giving a short gasp before pulling Yang back into the kiss. She'd apparently liked that.
The next time they break for air, Yang slides her lips down to Blake's jaw, then her neck, and Blake’s hands are buried in her hair as her breathing grows ragged, so she continues downward, trailing kisses slowly from her shoulders down towards her collarbone.
When the angle becomes inconvenient, Yang moves her hands from Blake’s hips to her ass, and then lifts Blake up, pinning her against the wall.
"Much better," she says, continuing down to Blake's collarbone over another ragged gasp.
"Show off," she hears Blake try to mutter, but it comes out breathy, and Yang smirks against the curve of Blake's throat. Blake responds by wrapping her legs around Yang's waist, and dragging Yang's lips back to hers. Once she's sure Yang is staying put, Blake lets one of her hands drop from golden curls down to Yang's stomach.
"Fuck," she groans into Yang's lips. Yang pauses, worried for a moment before realizing Blake is responding to her abs. She grins again, and tightens her hands on Blake's ass, drawing out a stifled moan.
Blake splays her hand against her abs, feeling the muscle there, tensed to support her weight, and clenches her legs tighter around Yang. Every one of her breaths is ragged now, as she works her hand up Yang's body till she gets to her sports bra.
As she tries to get underneath the strap one handed from this angle, Yang pulls back for a moment, and Blake has to prevent herself from whining. Yang just grins, slides one of her hands, the living one, into place to support Blake's entire weight, while she uses her metal hand to pull the bra up and over her head, tossing it to the floor.
Blake wants to stare, to see more of Yang, but the angle isn't working and she is Very aware that Yang is supporting her entire weight with one arm and that hand is clutching at her ass and gods she's wet.
"Bed. Please." She tries to say it with something resembling a steady voice, but only succeeds in preventing it from sounding like begging.
Yang carries her over to the bed, her metal hand buried in Blake's hair again as they kiss. She takes her time, lowering Blake onto the bed one handed, supporting all their weight as she bends nearly 90 degrees over.
"Fuck," Blake says again. She leans back on the bed, blatantly staring as Yang straightens.
The lamp isn't bright, but it's enough to illuminate Yang's physique. It's not even like she hasn't seen Yang's abs before, but after feeling how steady Yang was between her legs- and with her breasts, framed by golden hair… she reaches up and drags Yang down to her.
She revels in the feel of Yang's chest against her, but quickly grows impatient with the desire to do more. They've both rolled fully onto the bed, and Yang is doing something to her neck that she's fairly certain will leave a mark, but she can't bring herself to care.
She grabs one of Yang's arms and legs and executes a perfect trap and roll. Yang lets out a surprised huff as Blake ends up on top.
Blake doesn't give her time to complain, dragging her lips down Yang's neck as one of her hands cups Yang's breast. She'd have cursed again, the sensation of the breast in her hand overwhelming, but her mouth is otherwise occupied at the base of Yang's throat, and Yang is ever so slightly arching her back.
Blake starts up the other side of Yang's neck, and is surprised when that seems to draw more of a reaction than her thumb rolling across Yang's nipple. Yang seems to sense it, and Blake is gratified to hear that her laugh comes between shaky breaths, followed by stuttered words.
"...less sensitive...Good to know...are though."
Blake makes her way back down, and wraps her lips around a nipple, the other breast spilling out of a hand not quite big enough to hold it (not that Blake will stop trying).
Yang is about to say something when Blake bites down on her nipple. It's nowhere near hard enough to hurt, but still- but her indignation is drowned out as she gasps, her back arching enough to shift Blake's weight. Heat shoots through her body like a shock, throbbing between her legs.
When she drags Blake's face back up to hers, the other hand remains, rolling that nipple in her thumb and Blake is grinning at her.
"Oh that's how it is. My turn then." Yang laughs at the mix of anticipation and concern on Blake's face. Ignoring the fact that she can feel every heartbeat in that breast, and between her legs, she sits upright, forcing Blake into her lap, then lifts her up and rises, till their positions are reversed.
Blake slides back a few inches as Yang just grins down at her. Her face is flushed, and even after several seconds she's almost panting.
Yang just taps Blake's undershirt and says "Turnabout is fair play." Blake freezes for a moment and Yang hurries to say "only if you want to. This goes exactly as far as you want it to." She says it without the playful tone she'd been using, making sure Blake knows she's serious.
Blake takes another moment, then shakes her head and crosses her arms to pull the shirt up and over her head.
Now it is Yang's turn to stare as Blake lays in front of her, her eyes drinking in every inch of exposed skin. Gods, she wants to touch every curve. She licks her lips, and Blake blushes faintly, barely visible past her already flushed face.
Yang bends down slowly, but Blake holds up a hand and says "wait." Yang goes to draw back, but Blake is only reaching down to pull off her pants and toss them off the bed.
She's still blushing as she turns back to Yang. Yang just stares down at her, and her eyes are tracing hungrily up pale thighs when Blake reaches up to pull Yang's lips to hers.
"Impatient?" Yang whispers into Blake's mouth. All she gets in response is a gasp as she moves her hands to Blake's breasts. When her thumb rolls across a nipple, Blake moans quietly, deep in her throat.
Yang never wants that sound to stop, so she starts kissing her way down Blake's neck, and she can feel Blake starting to writhe beneath her. Her hands roam, exploring smooth skin, grabbing at curves with growing hunger.
When her lips find a nipple, Blake moans again, louder, and shifts forward, pressing herself against Yang's thigh.
When the damp material of her panties makes contact with Yang's leg, her hips buck ever so slightly.
Yang raises her mouth long enough to say "Definitely impatient," before moving to the other breast. Blake is rubbing herself against Yang's thigh with increasing urgency, and it's taking all of Yang's self control not to lean into it. But she thinks back to the near whine earlier, and shifts her leg back, just a bit, making it harder for Blake to rub against her.
This time there's no suppressing it. The whine escapes from Blake's lips as her hips buck again, seeking some relief. Yang gives her a smirk and says, "Ask for it."
Blake is still writhing, though all Yang is doing is toying with a nipple while the other hand trails up and down Blake's thigh.
She stares up, confused for a moment and then blushes furiously, which is equal parts adorable and amusing, considering where Yang's hands are. She gives Yang a pleading look, but Yang just says again "You have to ask," and lets her hand wander briefly over the increasingly wet front of Blake's panties.
Blake groans and gives a murmured "Please."
"Please what?" Blake whines again, and Yang takes pity on her. Her back arches as Yang slides a hand down her panties, past damp hair, to find slick heat.
"This?" she asks, stroking with one finger. Blake opens her mouth to give answer, only for a moan to slip out instead; she bites her lip and nods impatiently. When Yang slides a finger in, Blake finds herself unable to keep her hips from bucking.
Yang gives her a look she is far too turned on to interpret, then leans over, her face over Blake's breasts, and places her metal hand flat on Blake's stomach, forcing her hips down.
Yang's mouth closes around a nipple at the same time she slides her finger back into Blake, and the hand at Blake's stomach steadies her as she writhes. Yang starts slow, but quickly realizes how close Blake already is, and adds a second finger. When Blake moans in appreciation, she picks up the pace.
Blake's moans are coming fast now, in time with the motion of Yang's hand, and the bucking has stopped as Blake lifts her hips off the bed entirely. Yang slides the hand that was on her hips down, the thumb slipping beneath the panties' waistband to sweep across Blake's clit.
There's a break in the moans as Blake gasps and tries to say something that sounds like "please" in between them.
Yang maintains her rhythm, fingers curling inside Blake as her other thumb rubs circles around Blake's clit.
It doesn't take long before every muscle in Blake's body tenses, and the moans cut off as Blake bites her lip hard, pleasure radiating from Yang's hands.
Yang barely relents, and as the heat spreads from between her legs, Blake can't bite back the groans. It just keeps building and building, and she has forgotten nearly everything but the feel of Yang between her legs when the wave breaks again, and it's like every nerve in her body has lit up at once.
Yang would have kept going after the second orgasm, but she stops when Blake’s hands start to try desperately to still hers.
She sits up slightly, watching raptly as Blake rides out the orgasms, the deep groans subsiding back into quiet gasps in time with the movement of her hips. The black panties, soaked through now, have slid down slightly, enough for Yang to see the trimmed, damp hair peeking out the top.
Without much thought, she's slipped her hand down the front of her own pants, just to get some relief after that sight.
By then, Blake's breathing has returned to merely ragged, and her muscles stopped twitching. When she opens her eyes, half-lidded, and notices how intensely Yang is staring, she blushes. Then she notices Yang's hand, tensed as if she's trying to keep it still, and grins up at her.
"Your turn?" Yang startles slightly at the words, and holds up a hand.
"Oh no. You don't have to- I have-" but her other hand belies her words, and Blake cuts her off, crawling towards her in a prowl. The sight of Blake on all fours in just her soaked panties nearly draws a moan from her, and she doesn't protest as Blake pushes her onto her back.
The moment Blake is on top of her, Yang is already growing desperate, and is surprised when Blake starts at her shoulder, kissing and then sucking, hard enough to leave a mark matching the one on her neck, and Yang's back arches as she bites back a moan.
Blake inches her way down to a breast with agonizing slowness, and even though she's expecting it, she's lost enough control that the teeth on her nipple draw a groan from her.
Blake takes her time, switching to the other breast but leaving a hand behind to pinch, not giving Yang a chance to recover. Blake is straddling her hips, and she has nothing to grind against, but her hips are moving anyways.
When Blake's mouth reaches her navel, she stops kissing long enough to lick her way down to the top of Yang's denim shorts, and she can't make out what Blake has said over her own gasp.
She's fully prepared for Blake to tease her, but Blake just asks, "yes?" As she slips her fingers beneath the waist band.
When she says "Please," Blake pulls both the underwear and the shorts off together, which is probably a good thing. Yang is certain the boyshorts are soaked completely through, and separating them from damp denim might have been difficult. She lifts her hips up to facilitate, and then she's lying bare before Blake.
Blake's eyes are wide, taking in the exposed muscle of Yang's thighs, the yellow curls between them glistening in the lamplight.
With ill contained urgency, Blake lowers her mouth to one of Yang's thighs, licking her way up, and gods Yang is so wet Blake can feel drops of arousal on the hair of her thighs, raised on goosebumps. Her tongue traces a line of heat along Yang's thigh, and Yang's breathing is labored
Blake doesn't intend to stop, but before she's between Yang's thighs, her hips buck, and Yang groans in anticipation.
Blake raises her head slightly, holding it just above where Yang wants it, and when Blake breathes out it's too much for her. Her hips raise as if to grind against Blake's face, and Blake lowers her mouth to meet her.
The first sweep of Blake's tongue forces another moan from her, and she gives up on trying to hold back. All the rooms nearby are probably empty anyways.
Her hands clutch at Blake's head, praying for more as her back arches. When Blake raises her head slightly to sweep her tongue up and over Yang's clit, Yang starts to beg.
Blake obliges, repeating the motion several times, shifting the position slightly to gauge Yang's responses. Somehow, Yang is still getting wetter, and Blake catches a drop with her lips before it falls onto the sheets before sweeping her tongue back down.
Blake continues like this for several minutes, and Yang is shifting her hips in rhythm with Blake’s tongue, pushing against Blake’s face, her hands grasping desperately at Blake's hair, the begging nearly unintelligible, and Blake is surprised she hasn't come.
Yang can barely speak, every word half a groan, every beat of her heart radiating from her thighs to her navel, and she can't even unclench her hands to gesture. With considerable effort, Yang manages to get out "fingers'" before Blake's tongue sweeps across her pulsing clit and another guttural groan escapes her mouth.
It takes Blake a moment to parse the word from the stream of Yang's begging, but she does, sliding a hand from where it had been resting on Yang's thigh.
Blake buries two fingers up to the knuckle in her, and Yang can't keep track of what she's saying anymore. Just knows she'll say anything, so long as Blake doesn't stop.
Blake doesn't stop, though her tongue is starting to get tired. Yang has let go of her hair at some point, her hands twisted in the sheets, every muscle taut. Her words have devolved into a single drawn out moan that raises in volume slightly every time Blake's fingers curl or her tongue rubs over her clit.
Yang is right on the edge, desperately trying to push past it. She can barely think of anything else, certainly can't speak anymore, and Blake realizes Yang needs just a little bit more.
Blake adds a third finger, then raises her head slightly. Yang whimpers at the momentary break in contact, but then Blake resettles her mouth and sucks on her clit and the pressure there combined with a final thrust of Blake's fingers sends her flying over the edge.
She groans so loud it's almost a shout, and her thighs clench, wrapping around Blake's head.
By the time she can think again, she sees through cracked lids that Blake has managed to extricate herself. She's still panting, heat radiating from below her navel, and she feels like she just finished a workout, every muscle warm and languid. Blake is lying next to her, her eyes soft, pupils dilated. Yang, with effort, lifts a hand to stroke across Blake's cheek, and Blake closes her eyes, leaning into it.
Yang tries to express the emotions welling up in her, opens her mouth to tell Blake how much she loves her, but she's unable to find the words, so she just sits there with her mouth open for a second. When she laughs instead, Blake asks without opening her eyes.
"What?"
Yang tries again, but instead, reciting from memory, she finds herself completing the sonnet from earlier.
"Who plead for love and look for recompense
More than that tongue that more hath more expressed.
O, learn to read what silent love hath writ.
To hear with eyes belongs to love’s fine wit."
By the end she's just murmuring, but the sight of Blake's soft smile could light up the sky, wrings a different sort of heat from Yang's stomach. Ignoring the state of the sheets, and the fact that someone will definitely notice if she doesn't come out of her own room tomorrow, she pulls Blake into her arms. Blake settles there, head on Yang's shoulder. In minutes, they're both asleep.