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"Yasha can I walk you home!?" Beau practically yells, a faint slur to her words. Yasha can't quite tell if it's from the alcohol or the excitement coursing through the younger woman's veins. Maybe the two aren't mutually exclusive.
It's friends night, a (sometimes attempted) monthly event in which the whole group tries to get together for a night out at their favorite bar. A routine kept in place mostly for staying in touch during the occasional months in which schedules become too busy for smaller casual connections.
"Sure," she laughs fondly.
The night had begun winding down a little while ago, everyone slowing their alcohol intake in an attempt to sober themselves up enough for the walk home. Beau had spun towards Yasha as people began making their way to their feet, quietly discussing who would be going where for the night, and now staggers eagerly to her own feet, stumbling immediately.
Luckily Yasha's prepared, having spent many a friend's night learning the limit of Beau's alcohol tolerance, and catches her as soon as she pitches forward.
"Oh shit," Beau mumbles as her world spins briefly, "sorry."
"It's alright," Yasha smiles as she helps her steady herself.
Their friends are waiting for them by the doors by the time their jackets have been collected and wrestled over the appropriate sets of shoulders, heckling them good-naturedly about their slow movement.
Keeping her hand at the small of Beau's back Yasha gently guides her from the bar and out into the cool air of the evening. Soft conversation floats along gently on the breeze as they set off in the direction of their various homes and Yasha feels a warm contentment thrumming through her veins as she listens to her friends laugh.
Beau bumps lightly against her shoulder in her drunken stumbles, and after the fourth or fifth time of reaching out to steady her before she can fall on her face Yasha decides, as endearing as it is to watch, Beau is going to hurt herself if she allows this to continue any longer.
"Beau..." she calls softly, and glassy blue eyes lock onto hers immediately as Beau turns to stare at her, attention snapping away from Caleb and Jester's conversation.
"Wha?"
"Do you need a hand?"
She hesitates for a moment, processing Yasha's question through a muzzy mind before stuttering out, "'S... 's been awhile since I asked for this, but can y-... will you hold me? Carry me?"
"Yeah," Yasha laughs gently, "I can hold you."
The pleased hum that purrs from Beau's chest as Yasha scoops her into her arms makes something in her own chest flutter.
Their friends lightly harass them for awhile, cooing at Beau as if she were a baby, and they play along good-naturedly until everyone starts peeling off in the direction of various homes for the night, and they're eventually left alone.
Beau grows quiet against her back. She's shifted from the cradle of Yasha's arms to a piggyback at some point along their journey, and the soft puffs of breath against Yasha's ear let her know Beau's dropping fast.
"Sorry you had to carry me, Yash." Beau murmurs quietly, and Yasha can hear the muzzy edges of sleep creeping into her voice.
"Why are you apologizing?" Yasha asks gently, "I offered."
"'Cause I said I'd walk you," Beau mumbles, "and now you're the only one walking."
"It's alright, Beau," she shushes gently, "I... quite enjoy carrying you, to be honest."
"Yeah?" There's something soft in Beau's voice, a small light not yet snuffed out under the pressures of an unforgiving life, flickering faintly in a hopeful sort of excitement. It makes Yasha smile. She refuses to try to hide it.
" Yeah ."
"'S good then..." Beau drawls, sleepiness seeping a little further into her voice, "'cause I like when you carry me too."
Yasha smiles as a warmth blooms in her chest, and they both fall silent once again.
Beau had snuck up on her in a way, taken her by surprise. Which she really shouldn't have, Yasha thinks, as Beau had never been subtle in her advances, making her desires known from the moment they met. More surprising, she supposes, was the way she'd fallen in herself.
She'd been so guarded for so long, resistant to not only Beau's flirtations but the prospect of friendship with the entire group. It had taken a lot of growth for Yasha to eventually lower her walls enough to begin to let love bloom there, and by the time she realized she'd let the group as whole worm their way into her heart, she'd noticed Beau specifically had somehow managed to wiggle her way deep in there too.
It had felt almost like being pushed into a pool she couldn't touch the bottom of. A flailing helpless feeling that only eased after she stopped trying to fight it and just let herself float.
It doesn't take them long to reach the small apartment Beau shares with Jester, and Yasha dutifully hikes her up the stairs to the right door before patting Beau's thigh to let her know it's time to get down.
Beau slides off her back, swaying lightly as her feet hit the ground, and Yasha steadies her with a firm but gentle grip around her hips as she slips her fingers into Beau's pocket and fishes out the keys. All the while Beau leans heavily against her as she works the lock and opens the door before sweeping the younger woman into her arms once again.
The apartment is quiet, Jester having peeled off with Fjord toward his place as the group split for the night, and Beau sighs softly as Yasha carries her down the hall to her room.
She briefly pauses at the door of the bathroom, eyeing Beau quietly in question before the younger woman shakes her head, and they continue down the hall the rest of the way to Beau's room.
Beau's wobbly when she places her down again and Yasha's distracted with turning on the lamp and keeping her upright when, without warning, Beau pitches forward, connecting their lips in a sloppy kiss. And Yasha indulges for a moment before her own alcohol hazed mind can catch up.
Beau's lips are so soft and Yasha wants nothing more than to give into their drunk whims, but she knows in the end it would only do them more harm than good.
Placing her hands on Beau's shoulders, she takes a breath and gently eases them apart, Beau chasing her lips for half a moment before her mind catches up enough to let her know the kiss has ended.
"I think... it's time we got you to bed." Yasha murmurs softly.
"Mmm..." Beau hums, crumbling under the weight of her swimming head as it drops with a gentle thud against Yasha's collarbone, and the heated desire fades from her blood as quickly as it has come.
It's not the first time their lips have found each other under the heady influence of alcohol. A handful of sloppy make outs of varying length and intensity here and there throughout various friends nights that never went any further than that. But it's the first time since Yasha has begun openly admitting her feelings to herself, and she knows she can't allow either of them to ruin this small blooming thing between them. Not yet. Not if she can help it.
A part of her aches with how badly she loves this woman before her.
And she wants to believe that that's the reason Beau's here too. Right now. With her. And not anyone else. That some part of her senses a safety in Yasha that she's not felt anywhere else before. That a part of her senses that love in Yasha that's so bright and all consuming and unwilling to ever allow anything bad to come near her ever again as long as she's alive to help it.
She wants to believe that's what Beau sees whenever she seeks out her company and her arms and her lips.
But Beau's so reserved when it comes to her true feelings, Yasha's truthfully not entirely sure where Beau stands as far as her feelings for her go. Sometimes she can convince herself Beau wants her just as badly as she wants Beau. Something that goes beyond a purely physical release. But for every time their lips find each other in a drunken flair of passion Beau seems to retreat for a week afterwards. Avoiding Yasha altogether before eventually returning to seek her out once again.
Yasha's not sure what to make of it. Jester tells her it's because Beau has feelings for her, but she's not entirely sure how true that is as Jester's always been a romantic at heart and has never shied away from the implication that she wants nothing more than for her two best friends to become a couple.
Beau's soft breath puffs against her exposed collarbone and Yasha's tumbling thoughts break like a wave against the shoreline of her mind, washing away slowly.
She knows it doesn't matter what feelings Beau may or may not have for her in the end. She'll stay with her like this forever if it's what Beau decides. Even if she wakes up tomorrow and decides she wants nothing more to do with Yasha.
She'll wait patiently for whenever Beau comes calling for her. For whatever Beau asks of her. It's enough. Just like this. It's enough.
Any qualms she may have had about undressing Beau have fallen away with Beau's brief flare of desire. It's taking all of the smaller woman's energy to simply stay awake enough to get settled into bed at this point and she flops around with heavy limbs as Yasha divests her of her outerwear before maneuvering her under the soft comforter.
Satisfied with Beau tucked safely into her bed Yasha nods and attempts to make her departure.
"Wait!" A soft panic threads the edge of Beau's voice as her hand shoots out, lightly grasping Yasha's before immediately letting go, "can you... would... could you... stay?"
Beau's eyes are glassy but clearer than they've been since leaving the bar, alight with a quiet fear and quaking awareness, and Yasha holds that cobalt blue gaze for a moment, studying her.
"Are you sure?"
A nod. Small. Uncertain. Not of what it's asking, but of if asking it is too much.
Yasha pulls her own outerwear off quietly, settling in next to Beau with a gentle exhale, and Beau wastes no time wriggling into her space.
Her eyes are wide and blue and Yasha thinks she could drown in them if Beau would let her. They lay for awhile, simply holding one another's gazes and Beau's hands rise to gently cup her jaw.
Beau cradles her face in her palms with more gentleness than Yasha thinks she's ever known, than either of them have ever known, their entire lives.
She knows Beau won't remember any of this tomorrow, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't part of why she allows her to hold her like this for now. But she can't deny Beau whenever she's soft and gentle and wanting like this. Not when it won't hurt them in the morning.
She'd find a way to pull the moon from the sky for Beau if she asked her for it right now.
Beau's thumb rocks in a slow pattern, back and forth, across her cheek as she watches Yasha through half lidded eyes. Her blinks growing longer and longer with each closing, before finally falling shut for good.
A thousand words hang between them that neither of them are ready to speak out loud.
She knows she'll wait for Beau as long as she needs her to.
Yasha can't quite stop herself from shuffling forward, just slightly, and brushing her lips across the crown of Beau's brow in the faintest of touches. She can't quite stop herself from draping an arm around Beau's small waist and tucking her gently into her chest.
Beau looks so peaceful like this, tucked away from all the harshness of the world, safe under Yasha's watchful eye. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind Beau's ear and can't quite stop herself from trailing her finger along the arch of a sharp eyebrow, smoothed by the peacefulness of sleep, along the way.
"I think I'm in love with you, Beauregard Lionett," she whispers, trailing her gentle touch down Beau's cheek, "and I don't know what to do with that."
She knows it's not something Beau's quite ready to unpack. Something she's only just recently begun to admit to herself .
But she'll wait.
For Beau.