Final part to Frosted Knight. Willow dates Jaune, but it always ends with sex. She thinks this is normal, since it was how she spent her teen years and her extensive time in business school which didn't leave her time to enjoy such carnal pleasures again. Jaune, though, hasn't been with anyone since high school, and they were just high school sweethearts who had sex before they broke up, her for college, him for the war. But he does know that love and sex aren't the same, so he's cautious about being with someone where every date ends with sex.
Jaune paced back and forth in his room. His stomach was churning from his anxiety at the conversation he was dreading. He sighed. Depending on the conclusion, it could either mean making the best decision he ever made, or the worst mistake of his life. Even worse, both options were unknown already as unknown as possible.
He and Willow had been officially dating for about a few months now. In that time, he learned a lot about the Atlesian woman. She was intelligent, hard-nosed, and made every decision of her life based on facts. She loved piano, heist movies, and, thanks to him, burgers.
But did she love him? The thought gave him moths over butterflies in his stomach, making him nauseous to a point. He sat down, fumbling his fingers together. With a sigh, he thought back to the nights before with Willow.
Her prodding tongue. Her dragging nails. Her tight embrace. All of it excited him, and from the noises she's made, he excited her, too.
But excitement could only last so long. Once they had finished their love-making, they would hold each other and talk. Some of the most amazing talks they've had yet.
His time in the military. Her time as the company owner. His home life, which surprised her when she heard he had seven sisters. Her home life, which made him hold her tighter. After all this time, she was still a woman in her grief.
Which brought him to the decision he had to make. Should they continue to be with each other, hoping this is real and not a throes of passions, or should he abandon her so she could heal properly on her own time? The thought sickened him, but he was trained to treat the sickness by any means necessary.
He cared for her. He really did. The thought of her alone in her manor with no one to talk to, save Klein, made the moths multiply, and move up to his throat.
But maybe it was for the best? He tried to reason that what they had was probably a fling for her. A whim of passion for her to destress from her aristocratic lifestyle. What was it they called it? Slumming? She didn't really love him, did she?
"I needed that." Willow whispered in the dark. Jaune held her close as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She drew soft circles into his chest as his palm glided across her back. "Thank you."
"Willow?" Jaune asked, his voice soft and hushed.
"Why..." He swallowed. "Why'd you come back? I mean, you went through so much trouble to find me, and we spend a weekend together every month in this bedroom. You could have anyone you want. So why me?"
She sighed, looking up to his eyes. They seemed to shine in the darkness. It did thisngs to his heart. To his soul. To his body. She looked so beautiful, but so sad, and that made him want to kick himself for asking something so stupid.
"Why would I want anyone else?"
The phone rang, waking Jaune from his stupor. He looked to clock and saw only an hour had past. His eyes stung, relieved only when he rubbed them. Reaching over, he answered.
"Jaune, it's Willow." He was fully awake. "Klein said you wanted to speak with me?"
---------------------------------------------------
Willow's heart thundered in her chest as she waited for Jaune to speak. It had been thundering since Klein delivered his message. The way he delivered it, too, served only to make her more tense. She could feel her throat closing, her voice shaking.
Was there something wrong with their relationship? Had she failed in some way, offending him in a way she had yet to understand? A small part of her was already preparing for the worst. If this call, indeed, would lead to the worst.
She would throw herself into her work entirely. Jaune would be the last man she would ever be intimate with. Until the day she died, and her company with her, she would control the dust market. Small businesses like Coal and Son's would suffer, if only to help her regain some control in her life. Her heart began to hurt.
"Yeah, I, uh, wanted to talk about us." Jaune gulped on the other end. "Sorry if I caught you at a bad time."
"I always have time for you, Jaune." Willow replied, finding a little calm in his voice. It did nothing to stop her rapping against the desk with her talon-like fingers.
By dust itself, she was becoming a monster. Her horrible thoughts, her aging body. She was no better than a hag in those ghost stories her father told. An awful, ugly creature.
"I... just wanted to say talk about the, ahem, direction we're going."
"Oh?" That was an odd choice of words. "What do you mean?"
"W-Well, every time we met, we, uh, have sex."
"Er, yes, I suppose." Was it every time. Willow quickly ran through her mental catalog of every date. There was their first meeting, which ended in sex. Their first date, in the diner, followed by sex. The walk through the park, then sex. The jazz club, with sex inside the jazz club. "We are quite good at it."
"Amazing, actually." Jaune sighed, making her giggle. She was pleasantly surprised he thought so highly of her. "But I was thinking about how much we do it, and, uh, whether or not it's, uh..."
"Jaune?" He trailed off, confusing her. "Is there something wrong?"
"I... I don't know." He answered. "I was just concerned that, with all the sex we've been having, do you think it might be too much?"
"Is it?" Willow asked. "I thought it was what everyone did after a date. Especially if you were in love."
"I can agree with that, but don't you think it might be a bit too much?"
"I'm saying," Jaune made noises on the other side that did nothing to ease her anxieties, "maybe we should take a break. From sex, I mean. We can still date, but at the end, we can just kiss."
"That sounds like a lovely idea." Willow replied. It really was. When she was much younger, boys ages ten to twenty nine were not to come within fifty feet of Schnee Manor or herself.
It wasn't until much later, in business college, when she laid next to a man. It was Jacques Gelé, and he was hardly the impressive specimen Jaune was. But she was curious and thought one night would do her no harm. She thought wrong.
"Mad? Why would I be mad?" Willow gave a lady-like chuckle. "You thought there was a problem, so you addressed it with me."
"Phew, okay!" Jaune chuckled. "I was worried that you wouldn't be, well, on board."
"If it's a concern you have, then I will take it into account." Willow nodded. "I will come down next weekend, and there will be no sex. Agreed?"
"Yeah." Jaune sighs. "Willow?"
"I... I can't wait to see you again."
Willow's heart gripped her phone a little tighter for just a moment. She was fine with not having sex for the weekend, but for some reason, that last statement stung. It was like he was holding back, or maybe she was too expecting of his next words. Those three little words that would send her reeling.
"I'll call before my flight." She answered. "Take care of yourself, Jaune." When he replied, Willow hung up. She then rang the bell next to the phone.
"Is everything alright, Miss Schnee?" Klein asked.
"Is everything in order, Klein?"
"In order? If the tickets are scheduled, then I suppose." He eyed the younger woman. "Were you satisfied with your conversation?"
"He... thinks we have too much sex."
Klein was quiet at that. He pursed his bushy lips and looked away. He then brought a fist to lips and puffed his cheeks, then huffed through his nose.
"Erm, as of yet, there's no word of a child, yes?"
"No, Klein." Willow chuckled. "But he does have a point. Every encounter we've had ends with sex."
"Well, I wouldn't say ended, Miss Schnee." Klein replied. "What happens after you have sex?" His cheeks tinged pink. "Without the more graphic details if you could."
"After sex?" She thought on every event, and they all ended the same way. "He holds me close to his chest. Strokes my hair. Rubs my back."
"And after you've rested?" Klein asked, noticing how dreamy her countenance became. As if she were having the sweetest daydream.
"I wake up to find him out of bed and in the kitchen, brewing coffee." She giggled. "The first night, he brought in the cup on a saucer with so much sugar, I couldn't see the saucer."
"And after your morning coffee?"
"We get dressed and have breakfast. It's always toast."
"Nothing more, but there's not much else needed. He places everything I could ever need. Butter, jam, cream cheese." She chuckled. "One morning, he was surprised I chose grape jam. He told me, 'This is a first for me. I always have strawberry,' and I couldn't help but find it charming."
"It sounds to me that your date doesn't end on sex, but when you say your farewells."
"I... I suppose you're right." Willow said, surprised by the revelation.
"When my Briggite and I were first together, we could barely keep our hands to ourselves." Klein reminisced. "But it was when we stopped to reflect on our time, we realized the sex doesn't define us, but it is an experience we can share together."
"You are wise beyond your years, Klein."
"Oh, come now, Miss Willow!" He guffawed. "I'm only in my forties!"
The two shared their laugh, and would continue for years to come.
---------------------------------------------------
"What did you think of the movie?" Jaune asked as they walked back to her hotel room.
"It was fine." Willow sighed. "But it did get boring. Romance just doesn't thrill me."
"Thrill you?" Jaune quirked a brow.
"It doesn't make sense to me. There is always an air of tension between them, but nothing is done to address it." Willow frowned. "It reminds me of that bad burger."
"The one that took forever?"
"Yes, that one." Willow had waited almost an hour for a burger fresh from the freezer, only to bite into it and realize it wasn't just raw, but rotten.
She demanded to speak to the manager, and when the chef was dragged out, She ordered him to return to the kitchen. Jaune watched as his girlfriend show up the manager in business practices, arguing that it is his fault, not the chefs, that meat was rotten in the freezer.
Willow hated that memory, but Jaune always looked back with a smile. When they made love that night, he complimented how powerful she was. She still blushes at his words.
"Well, I'll make sure to get you a good burger next time." Jaune said, pulling her closer to him. "No more bad burgers in your life."
"Do you promise?" She leaned into him.
"I give my word." They stop before her room. "And speaking of giving our word, here we are."
"Well," Willow swallowed, "here we are."
"I guess this is good night." Jaune's finger twitched as he spoke.
"Yes." She unlocked her door and turned to him. "Good night, Jaune."
"Good night, Willow." He pecked her lips, then stepped away, his cheeks reddened over. He turned away, only to feel a hand gripping his sleeve.
"W-Wait!" Willow almost shouted, covering her mouth in embarrassment. "That... That wasn't a proper good night kiss."
"It was too chaste." Willow reasoned. "We should be more... intimate in our farewells."
"Oh. Right." Jaune held Willow close and kissed her more passionately, but not excessively. His tongue prodded past her lips, and slid around hers.
Willow restrd her palms on his back, fingers retracted, defying her desires to dig and claw through his coat. He pulled away, leaving Willow to whimper.
They both stared at each other, chests heaving with their desires. This might have been the hardest thing they've ever done. More physically demanding than his basic training. More mentally taxing than running your own business.
Those things have been done, and could be done again. They survived and conquered.
But this. This was excruciating.
"I'm... I, uh..." He swallowed hard.
"What is it, Jaune?" He was quiet. Suddenly, she felt him pull her closer, his fingers threatening to tear apart her dress. "J-Jaune?"
"I was wrong." Jaune answered. "I... I need you, Willow. I need you, and I need you to need me."
Willow pulled her hands away, and placed them on his chest. Palms flat, fingers splayed. She looked into his eyes, brimming with barely contained passion and pecked his lips. His grip softend, expecting her to push him away.
Jaune..." Her fingers dug into his coat lapels, seizing them in her clawed grip as she breathed. "Fuck! Me!"
Jaune barreled into the room, kicking the door shut as he ravaged her, and she him. His coat and shirt were torn open, buttons flying off, as her dress and bra straps snapped over her shoulders, freeing her breasts for him to paw at. She leaned forward and sucked on his neck, tugging his skin with her teeth. They fell into bed, his hands tugging away his slacks and underwear while she removed her panties and tossed away her hair tie.
Once they were naked, they stopped. They heaved heavy breaths as they stared at one another. He moved closer, and she reached to touch him. Her hand glided up his arm to his face, where she held his cheek. He hovered over her, then lowered to kiss her.
"Willow." Jaune gulped. "I love you."
Willow froze. She couldn't believe it. In her heart of hearts, she knew, but to hear him say it, and with such clarity, too? Her hand moved from his cheek to behind his head, pulling him closer.
"I love you, too." She whispered. They then kissed, somehow less passionate, but also less chaste. A lover's kiss.
---------------------------------------------------
"Congratulations, Arc!" Jaune's friend said as he walked in. Callows was a lot of things to the company. He was a traitor, fleeing Mistral to join Vale in the war. He was a sadist, only too excited to conduct medical experiments. He was probably evil with how loud and boisterous his cackling was at the most minute jokes. But he was still Jaune's friend, which made those words equally comforting and frightening.
"W-What?" Jaune asked, holding Willow's hand. She had been experiencing all the symptoms since she returned the following month, but he needed to be sure.
"We ran all the exams you asked, and then some, and it's official." He tittered. "You've been promoted to Papa Arc!" He cackled. "Oh! Oh! Could you name him after me? There's not enough Tyrian's in the world."
"Uh, Callows, we, uh, need the room." Jaune said.
"Oh, of course!" Tyrian bowed out. "I shall return when you're ready." When the door shut, the couple sighed.
"I am not naming anything after him." Willow shook her head.
"I didn't plan to." He looked to Willow. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Jaune. I'm just... nervous? Excited?" She held a hand to her head. "It's all just so surprising."
"It is a lot to take in." Jaune said.
"Yes," she leaned into him, "and I'm glad you're here with me."
Willow's life has been a roller coaster of events. Some would say her life began when her father passed and left his company to her as both his inheritance and her legacy. Others would say it was the day she proposed to Jaune after the birth of their first child. But in her opinion, her life didn't begin until that first night he helped her, and became a part of her life forever.
"Jaune," she looked up to him, "I have ideas for the baby."
"Already?" Jaune chuckled. "Like what?"
"If it's a boy, I want to name him Nicholas, after my father," Jaune nodded, both approving and signaling her to continue, "and if it's a girl, I want to name her Winter."
"Winter Schnee." He smiled warmly. "I like that."
