Snuggling with Yang felt a little like finding a sun to orbit around.

"Smooch for your thoughts?"

And a little like all Blake's dreams coming true.

"I was just thinking about how people seem to be confused by our relationship." Speaking of sunbeams and idle fantasies, the promised kiss landed almost perfectly between Blake's ears. "At first glance, we apparently don't seem like, for lack of a better term, the couple-y sort."

"Eh, people say lots of things." Yang could brush off a building falling on her; a few stray pieces of conversation were almost showing off, really. "I've learned it's best just to ignore them and keep being as cool a person as you've always been. And between the two of us, I'd have to say there's about sixteen kilotons of cool. That's a lot, if you didn't already know."

"Mmm. You're right." Blake turned a page in her book. If Yang hadn't been done reading that page yet, she'd have let her know. "I can almost see where they're coming from, though. You and I are rather opposite. Bright and dark, earth and sky, piano and electric guitar . . ."

"Nnnnnope, still not seeing it." Yang kissed the side of Blake's head – didn't she always give more than she promised? "I mean, yeah, we're different, but the good kind of different. You and I go together like peanut butter and jelly!"

Blake gave this statement the utmost consideration that it deserved. "Does that make me the jelly, or . . . ?" That's what she came up with.

"Well, you are super sweet," Yang's tongue ran across her lips, possibly concentrating, possibly conjuring up the taste in question. "But that booty, though – I've gotta say, Blake: you definitely put the 'butt' in 'butter'."

Blake refused to laugh at that. No matter what happened, she was not going to reward that kind of bad behavior. "Says the girl who tends to stick to the roof of my thoughts." Please. Yang practically blew the roof off of them. "And packed with protein, to boot, I bet. But you're pretty sweet, yourself, so . . . which one of us is which, then?"

Yang's tongue poked at her cheeks like the answer was attempting to punch its way out of her head. "You can be both, actually." Sometimes Blake could remind herself that a smiling Yang could mean chaos, disaster, embarrassment, or any number of other good stories and bad situations were just around the corner. This was one of those times. "I'll be the bread, because I'm fluffy!"

"Is that supposed to be some kind of innuendo?" Blake attempted for a coy tone, but the thing of the thing was, she genuinely wasn't certain.

"You doubt my fluffy fortitude?" Playing at being affronted was one of Yang's favorite hobbies. "I'll have you know I'm the fluffiest thing this side of your Bella-booty."

The dam broke, Blake doubled over in laughter, and she could practically feel the effervescent smugness radiating from Yang's form.

How could she ever have doubted?

Fun fact: this was originally part of my other Bumbleby fic, Binary Stars, but ended up not having a place in the storyline to, er, exist in. Edited it a bit, added a little more on - hopefully it worked.