Chapter Text
Blake’s house was small and modest, which didn’t surprise Yang in the very least. It suited her style as Blake had never been the materialistic type and often kept her living spaces sparse. Although the house had originally belonged to Sun, Yang could still see the whispers of Blake around the living room when she walked inside. A small bookshelf and a vase of flowers were tucked away in the corner by the couch and Yang would’ve missed it if she hadn’t known to look for it.
“Can I get you a drink?” Blake asked from the tiny kitchen. She looked nervous, standing by the fridge with her hands hovering awkwardly in the air. Yang raised an eyebrow.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked cautiously, “We don’t have to.”
“No no it’s okay. I want to be a courteous host.” Blake reassured with a smile.
“Well okay, whatcha got?” Yang shrugged, “I didn’t think you were much of a drinker.”
“I mean, I think Sun has some beer in here.” Blake pulled open the fridge and rummaged around a bit until Yang heard the familiar clinking of bottles.
She made a face as she stood back up.
“I don’t know if you would drink a banana IPA?” She asked, holding up the bottle for Yang to study with a grimace. The label claimed it was made with real bananas. “I didn’t think so.” Blake stashed the beer back into the fridge door.
“I think you’re looking in the wrong place.” Yang said, reaching up to the cabinets over the microwave, “There we go.” She moved some tupperware out of the way to reveal a lone bottle of tequila.
“I didn’t even know that was in there.” Blake seemed incredibly surprised.
“I figured a guy like Sun would probably have a stash somewhere.” Yang smirked, yanking the cork out of the bottle, “I think I saw some lime juice in the fridge if you want to grab that.”
Blake turned and rummaged again.
“I don’t mean to brag, but I can make one hell of a margarita, if you’re game.” Yang said, thinking back to her time in the desert. It had been like honing a craft.
Blake seemed to consider it, her ears turning on her head as she contemplated.
“Sure why not?” She finally said, reaching up and grabbing two glasses from the cabinet behind her. Yang grinned excitedly and took the glasses from Blake.
“Okay so I’m going to teach you the secret to making the perfect margarita. I learned it in Mexico.” Yang said, motioning Blake to come closer. She dropped exactly four ice cubes into each glass before reaching for the bottle of liquor.
“You went to Mexico?”
“Duh, where do you think I scored the RV?” Yang rolled her eyes, laughing as she poured an equal amount into each cup. She grabbed the lime juice and splashed it a couple times over the tequila, finally grabbing a pinch of salt and sprinkling it right on top instead of around the rim.
“The secret is the lime juice and the salt.” She handed Blake the drink. “It has to be sweet enough for taste but with enough kick to burn on the way down.”
“Is that so?” Blake asked teasingly, “Because it looks like you just poured a drop of lime juice into a full glass of tequila.”
“Take a sip.” Yang challenged. Blake gave her a doubting look but slowly raised the glass to her lips and did as she was told.
“Wow,” She said, tongue running over her lips in a way that made Yang’s heart pound, “I’m impressed.”
“If you think that’s impressive, just wait until you try my other drinks.” Yang winked over the rim of her own glass before draining it in two swift gulps. The chill from the ice mixed with the fire of the tequila always made itself at home in Yang’s throat. She placed the empty cup on the counter and used her thumb to wipe the corner of her mouth.
She was also immensely enjoying the way Blake was trying so hard not to stare. Yang could see it so easily on her face and the way her amber eyes kept bouncing from the floor to the wall and then back to Yang. Finally Blake raised her own glass to her lips and drained it just as fast.
“Another?” Yang asked, pointing at the bottle.
“Sure.”
Yang worked her magic again, careful not to give Blake too much alcohol. She had always been incredibly lightweight and Yang was pretty sure that hadn’t changed.
“Hey,” She said, eyes still looking down as she poured their drinks, “Do you remember that time we went skinny dipping in Miami?”
Blake let out a quick laugh, her face darkening to a shameful red as she recalled the memory.
“Oh, God yes.” She sighed, still chuckling, “It was such a stupid thing to do.”
“Why, because it was a public beach?” Yang smirked.
“Yes!” Blake took her drink, “And it was only eight o'clock, there were still a ton of people there!”
They both laughed until tears pricked at the corner of Yang’s eyes. She had been the one to suggest it. The day had been way too boring, and boring just did not suit Yang Xiao Long’s lifestyle.She had stripped down first, confidently standing with her hands on her hips as the others covered their eyes in disgust. Finally, they all removed their clothes piece by piece and went sprinting into the ocean.
“That was such a fun night.” Yang said fondly, setting down her once again empty glass, “God I swear some days I almost miss it.” She took a swig straight from the bottle, “Almost.”
“I feel the same way.” Blake said admittedly, “We had the time of our lives sometimes.”
“You’d think that would make up for all of the shit we had to put up with.” Yang said with a hint of casual fury in her voice. She shrugged and took another sip, passing it to Blake. “That’s all ancient history now.”
Blake was looking intensely at her now. The amber in her eyes seemed to shine, but that could’ve easily been the booze making Yang see things.
“Why did you leave Yang?” Blake asked, setting the bottle down. The question admittedly took Yang but surprise and she felt like she didn’t have a proper answer prepared. Or maybe an answer to that question would take too long to say. Yang crossed her arms and leaned back against the fridge.
“Same as you I suppose.” She said gruffly, “Too much pressure.”
That was only half-true. But it seemed like an acceptable enough answer for Blake. She picked up the bottle again and took a long sip, coughing roughly when it hit her throat.
“Easy there,” Yang laughed, giving Blake a few whacks on the back, “I know talking about feelings is hard but don’t kill yourself.”
“I still don’t know how you do that.” Blake coughed again, clutching her neck, “I think I burned a hole in my throat.”
“Honestly it’s a talent.” Yang said, “I wouldn’t expect you common folk to understand.” She walked Blake over to the couch and sat her down.
“Oh God,” Blake giggled, “I think that’s a buzz I feel coming on.” Her cheeks were flushed red and her body sank into the cushion.
“I think you’re a little past buzzed Blake.” Yang chuckled, “I tried to go easy on you too. You’re more lightweight than ever.”
“Well, I haven’t had a drink since…” Blake trailed off as she counted on her fingers, “Maybe 3 years.”
“Ruby’s birthday.” Yang said, recalling the memory at once, “You slammed more jaeger bombs than anyone else there. I was so proud.”
“We found Weiss passed out in the bathtub the next morning.” Blake’s voice was being cracked up by more uncontrollable giggles, “She brought her pillow and everything.”
They exploded into a fit of laughter.
It felt so natural to Yang. Late nights talking about nothing had been their favorite pastime on tour and Blake’s gleeful smile as she giggled was more intoxicating than the tequila in her glass.
Yang felt herself getting drunk on it.
---
“I still have Gambol.” Blake said, “I keep it under my bed.”
She was laying on the floor next to Yang, both of them staring up at the dark ceiling. The clock on the microwave said it was close to four in the morning but as far as Blake was concerned, time didn’t exist anymore.
“Funny,” Yang said with a slight smile, “I keep Bumblebee under my bed as well. You still play?”
Blake bit her lip. “No, it’s been a long time. I’m probably really rusty.”
“Probably.” Yang shrugged, “I know I was.”
She grimaced as she thought of the aching hands and the stabbing pains of her finger tips worn down by the guitar strings.
“I miss music.” Blake sighed candidly. She didn’t elaborate further. She didn’t need to. Both of them understood the implications of the statement.
“It’s not that bad when you start again.” Yang said earnestly, “Rusty, yes, but...it feels nice.” She folded her hands together over her stomach. “Like catching up with an old friend.”
Blake seemed to ponder this, also folding her hands over her stomach in thought. They stared up at the ceiling in a comfortable quiet moment.
As if by the pull of magnets, or gravity, or whatever you want to call it, both Blake and Yang felt their heads turning to face each other. Yang’s heart was pounding against her ribs as she stared into Blake’s shining eyes. Her body was moving on her own, tilting forward as she inched closer and closer to Blake who seemed to be doing the same motions.
Blake’s fingers rested softly on Yang’s jawbone, stroking down towards her chin. Closer and closer until she could feel Blake’s breath on her lips, their noses barely brushing, faces red, eyes closed, hearts stomping, fingers crossed.
Blake’s lips were as soft as Yang remembered. She tasted like every smile, every laugh, every moment that Yang hadn’t been there to see the last three years. It was more exhilarating than hearing the screams of a sold out world tour stadium. Blake pulled her closer, fingers digging into Yang’s shoulders almost desperately. She held her like she would turn to dust and fly away if she were to let go. And Yang was holding her back just as urgently, as if her entire existence depended on never letting go. The heartbreak, the pain, the past didn’t even matter now. She was flying.
It wasn’t until Blake pulled away that Yang realized that tears were running down her cheeks.
“Why are you crying?” Blake asked with a shaky laugh, gently wiping them away with her thumbs.
“I don’t know,” Yang said, voice thick and heavy. She broke into a grin, slipping Blake’s hand into her own and holding it against her chest, “Joy?”
Yang felt love on her tongue, beating against her lips wanting desperately to be said. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Instead she kissed Blake again. And again. And again.