Chapter Text
Yang was surprised that she didn’t slip mid-thrust as Blake strolled into the gym in a skimpy workout outfit that hadn’t fit properly since 30 lbs ago. Yang did her best not to focus too much on Blake while the hefty barbell rested on her hips, before rechecking her grip and making sure her shoulders were still in the right place. Then, it was back to her workout.
Blake had to stand a fair distance from Yang to see her, as the curve of her belly and breasts made seeing things on the ground too close impossible. She struggled to see her many thigh folds or her knee and ankle folds without a mirror, and seeing her feet was well out of the question.
“Hey Yang,” Blake purred, the tone immediately alerting Yang that her girlfriend had mischief on her mind.
“Uh, heya Blake. Need help with your workout?” Yang offered, hoping to disarm Blake’s attempted hijinks.
“Nah, I’m good for now,” Blake responded, faking nonchalance as she silently counted the weight Yang was thrusting with a sausage finger. “400lbs? Impressive,” Blake cooed. The appeal to Yang’s ego worked so well, Yang was unaware that it even happened. The compliment from her girlfriend wiped all concerns from her mind and replaced them with the bright, fluffy feelings of being complimented for something you really care about.
“Aw, thanks! It’s my new PB,” Yang beamed, although the big bright smile was at least partly her gritting her teeth as she thrusted the weight.
“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that that’s how much you’re lifting after my weigh-in this morning, right?”
Yang looked up and spotted the smug grin on Blake’s lips, like the cat that got the heavy cream, and knew that Blake had her beat. There was no way out of this, Yang knew. Instead, Yang went with it.
“Actually, it’s not a coincidence,” Yang admitted, shooting Blake a quick eyebrow flash and a grin.
“Oh? What else did you plan on lifting like that?” Blake questioned, knowing the answer and just waiting for Yang to say it. Yang lowered herself to the ground and moved the barbell aside and patted her now free lap. Picking up on the silent invite, Blake sat on Yang’s lap, her hips twice as wide as Yang’s and her thighs each as thick as Yang’s torso. Then, as Yang put her hands on Blake’s hips, Yang carefully thrust upwards, lifting blubbery Blake off the ground with a satisfied grin, one that quickly turned sheepish as she quickly realised that, yes, other people were watching this public display of more than affection.
“Yeah, get it, Blake!” Coco called out from across the gym, earning a smack on the arm from Velvet.
“More like ‘get a room, Blake’,” Weiss protested from the treadmills. “Not our room, though, Ruby’s still there.”
With that, Yang’s face’s journey to a bright-red blush was complete, while Blake’s double-chinned face showed that she had reached dangerously high levels of smugness.