Lena had put her penthouse on the market after the wedding and had moved out. The odd part was that she had sort of moved into Kara’s apartment, sleeping in a nest of blankets and pillows on the sofa, doing work for her new charity enterprise on a latop, watching tv or reading, taking naps in the afternoon sunlight.
She looked so happy. She went for jogs in the morning and still went to the fitness club three times a week but she’d filled out more, her face was a little rounder, her little tummy a little tummier. There was color in her cheeks and she spent a lot of time with makeup off and her hair down in soft waves- and without saying anything she’d simply stopped dying her hair.
Kara was shocked by that; utterly shocked. She had fifty different kinds of super senses (she didn’t tell anyone, but she could feel electrical fields like a shark) and had never realized that Lena dyed her auburn hair to fit in with the black-haired Luthors. The black had faded out and she looked even more breathtaking, had somehow become the most sublime creature on earth, despite already owning the title.
She was free. She was herself. She was lying on the couch in shorts and had pulled up her hoodie to bare her stomach after a morning run. She had a fan blowing cool air from the windows over her body, and seemed to be half dozing, her hair fanned back over the arm of the couch as she lay with her eyes closed and one hand hanging off to her side as the other curled lightly and rested on her belly, just below her breasts.
Kara was staring and knew she could be caught. She wasn’t a robot; the urge to just take a quick x-ray peek under there was brutal, and in spite of herself she imagined what Lena’s overwhelming décolletage must look like in the sports bra she must have had on under her hoodie. Her eyes followed the lush lines of Lena’s thighs and calves, and Kara found herself standing over her.
Kara would never say this out loud, but humans smell. Their odors are so pervasive that she used to gag at them living in the Danvers house until she got used to it. Eventually she learned to recognize scents and identify her people that way, but some humans just downright reeked and it was hard to tune out, like her other senses could be.
Lena was an exception.
Even at her most sweaty and musky, even when Lena even proclaimed herself gross, she smelled *lovely*. She was intoxicating. Beneath the perfume and lingering scent of shampoo and whatever else, he had her own musky tang of sweat and body oils and pheromones and one time Kara even smelled her laundry while she was away from the apartment.
Okay, not just her laundry. Her underwear, and it was several times. Not one time.
Fine! Every time! She liked it, okay!
“Kara?”
Kara almost jumped through the ceiling, literally, and yelped.
“You’ve been staring at me for five minutes,” said Lena.
“I have?” Kara chirped. “Yes, I guess I have. I was lost in thought.”
“About what?
About licking you to taste your sweat, Kara thought.
“Oh, um, I don’t know, daydreaming I guess.”
“So you were standing there for several minutes daydreaming as you stared at me?”
Before Kara could answer, Lena rolled onto her side and looked at her. Kara practically trembled; the way she was posed on the couch wasn’t even pretending to be comfortable, displaying the sweeping curves of her back and her… her big butt, which had gotten bigger while she lived here, and now it was obvious how her heavy breasts filled out even a baggy hoodie.
Kara licked her lips. “You know, stuff.”
Lena smirked for a moment, then stood up and padded over light on her bare feet. Kara was in jeans and a tank top after she’d tossed her light flannel on the laundry pile.
“Why did you go to spin class with me? You obviously don’t need to exercise.”
“I really just wanted to hang out. It was an excuse to spend time with you.”
“Mmmm,” said Lena. “You never missed a class. Not until we fought.”
Kara was trying to think of what to say but could only let out a little squeak when Lena gripped her big belt buckle and tugged, hard.
Kara Danvers, Supergirl, the most powerful being on Earth (she pretended Clark was stronger but she’d already shown she was, on several occasions) instantly moved when Lena Luthor pulled her closer. Her heart was hammering in her chest and sweat popped on her chest and neck and back despite the cool breeze and oh God was this happening, what was happening?
Lena looked her up and down, very pointedly lingering on her lips and her own full breasts in her tank top and was acutely aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra, what was she thinking walking around like this?
“Kara, do you like me living here?”
Kara swallowed hard. “You’re not thinking about leaving are you?”
“Answer the question, darling.”
“I love… having you here.” Her voice hitched just a bit. Before Lena said anything else, “I wish you could stay forever and we could be best buds living together, but I know eventually someone’s going to snatch you up and you’ll want to go live your own life. I’ll be happy for you but I’ll miss you.”
Lena looked away. She didn’t move away but she looked down, then rested her head on Kara’s chest.
“We need to talk about this. Someone already has snatched me up.”
Kara felt a sudden hollow form in her belly. It constricted her breath and she felt like cold water had been dumped on her head.
“Oh.”
“I know why you always went to spin class with me, Kara. I told myself that it was in my head. I’ve been hurt that way before- the straight best friend is a girl painful thing sometimes. I’m terrified of what might happen now but I have to take this chance, I’ll never really be happy if I don’t.”
“What chance? Straight best friend? Lena, what are you talking about?”
“I have… I have feelings for you. I hope I’m not misreading this, but I feel like you do too.”
Kara felt like she was hearing the words underwater, or from far away.
Lena… likes me?
Kara barked out a laugh. “Straight? That’s a human term, Lena. I’m an alien. I’m not straight.”
Lena hesitated, still gripping Kara’s belt. Kara could hear her heart racing and see heat blooming across her body, a subtle infrared glow painted over her cheeks and chest and… lower.
Lena’s hand was on her flank now. Kara pulled her in closer and her eyes went wide with surprise.
“I didn’t want to scare you off,” Kara murmured. “Or freak you out, or ruin our friendship.”
Lena still had a death grip on Kara’s belt, but her other hand now went lower.
As if to erase any ambiguity about what they were discussing right now, Lena slid her hand between Kara’s thighs. Her eyes shot wide.
“What is that?”
Kara licked her lips. A wave of fear and nervous energy rolled through her. Even in her secret Lena fantasies this was always the difficult part.
Kara leaned down, an arm around Lena’s shoulders, her other hand resting gently but possessively on Lena’s ass.
“I’m an alien, Lena. I’m not human, Kryptonians don’t work the same way. Especially if there’s same sex attraction involved.”
She’d practiced that little speech in her head a thousand times, getting hot just thinking about it.
Lena licked her lips. “Oh. I have to admit, I’ve wondered a few times. This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed your pants stretching a little. Or felt it pressed against me. I was wondering because it happens around me a lot. I even saw Alex and Kelly cracking up over it at the wedding reception.”
Lena wasn’t just resting her hand there. She was… doing things and it was making every muscle in Kara’s body tense, making her hips rock a little harder each time as instinct took over.
“It’s for you,” Kara purred. Literally, a deep basso rumble rolling from the depths of her chest.
Lena looked up at her. She yanked on Kara’s belt.
“Now. Ple-“
Kara cut her off with a kiss. A deep kiss, a hungry kiss, the kind of kiss she really wanted all those times she kissed Lena on the cheek. A kiss that seared I love you like a brandy, and Lena kissed her back harder, so deeply, so filthily, that Kara was overwhelmed between the kiss and Lena now fully grinding on her.
She did the only logical thing and scooped her up. Lena giggled and locked her legs around Kara’s waist and Kara lunged into the bed. Clothes went everywhere but the hamper and they didn’t even think about little things like separating their laundry or whether the neighbors would hear such exclamations as “oh Rao, Lena it’s so hot” or “Kara, are you vibrating?” or the dozens of “I love you/I love you too/I’m sorry I hurt you” declarations that melted into wordless moans and finally into focused, almost insistent panting until Lena was murmuring “I need to rest” followed by Kara’s bare feet on the hardwood floors as she went to get a bottle of cool water and some warm towels.
Lena nodded off after Kara swaddled her in blankets and hydrated her. Kara lay back on the bed with her arms folded behind her back.
She was *good*.
She herself nodded off eventually, splayed out relaxed on her bed.
When she woke up to the sound of a key in her lock she tensed, but sat up bleary eyes as she recognized a familiar heartbeat and quickly checked with X-Ray vision.
It was Alex.
“Kara! You’re not answering your phone and I can’t raise Lena either, are you in here? Are you okay? It’s been three days!”
Wait, what?
“And what the fuck is that smell?”
Alex paused.
“Fucking finally,” she muttered under her breath. “Just call me when you’re done sticking your heroic might in her swampy lair.”
“Fuck off, Alex,” Lena said, then went back to snoring.
Kara laughs. “Sorry, I made that much weirder than it needed to be. God, if I’m acting this way with you, I’m going to be an actual disaster on this date- maybe I should cancel…”
An idea occurs to Lena, then. A very, very stupid idea. “I could help you relax.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
“Kara,” Lena says, pitching her voice low and dark, “would you like me to help you relax?”
There’s a solid thirty seconds of dead silence, before, “... what?”
A live multivoice recording of @deadbiwrites phone sex operator AU :D
Rating: Explicit
Length: 38 min
Thank you @shakespearestolemyurl, @tkaptains, @apple-sapling @kd-heart and @feelingsandtaxes for joining me for this. This was so much fun!
Lena wakes up earlier. She isn’t even surprised to find Kara tangled up in her, limbs going in impossible directions, even if they all seem to find Lena in the end. That’s how they usually wake up anyway.
It’s been happening more and more lately. Sleeping like this. Together.
Weirdly so. Amazingly so.
She chuckles when Kara snores, soft and unguarded, breath warm against her collarbone. Lena shifts just enough to free one hand and nudges Kara’s shoulder. “Hey, Supergirl. We have to wake up.”
“Mm,” Kara hums, words dissolving before they’re fully formed. “Let’s stay in bed.”
Lena smiles despite herself. “Let’s not. The world needs you.”
Kara tightens instinctively, as if the idea of distance alone offends her. “But if you needed me more,” she mumbles, face pressing into Lena’s neck, “I’d have the perfect excuse.”
There it is. Casual. Devastating. Said like it’s obvious.
Lena goes still for half a second, heart doing that quiet, traitorous flip it’s been practicing lately. Kara is already drifting again, having dropped the sentence like a pebble into deep water, utterly unconcerned with the ripples.
Lena exhales, slow and careful, and lets herself stay exactly where Kara keeps finding her.
She always does this. Says the first thing that crosses her mind, bright and unfiltered, and never stops to wonder what it might do to Lena. Whether it will build her up or undo her entirely. Whether it will make her believe it’s true, even when everything else insists it can’t be.
Kara’s watch lights up against her wrist, pulsing insistently, and Lena is certain that if Kara were the swearing type, the air would be considerably bluer by now.
“Fine, fine. I’m up,” Kara groans, untangling herself at last. Late, as usual. Lena really shouldn’t be surprised anymore. “Sorry, I have to—”
It’s a blur after that. Kara vanishes into Lena’s bathroom and reappears seconds later already dressed, cape settled, boots laced like the laws of physics have simply given up around her. “Okay, Alex, I’m on my way.”
She’s halfway to the balcony when she doubles back, like she’s forgotten something essential. She presses a quick kiss to the top of Lena’s head, easy and familiar, like punctuation. “Emergency in London. See you tonight?”
“Yeah,” Lena says. “Call me if you’re coming for dinner.”
Kara pauses, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “If I don’t, will you eat?”
Lena doesn’t answer. She just smiles, small and telling.
Kara grins, victorious. “Then I’m definitely coming for dinner.”
“Go,” Lena says, warmth threading her voice despite herself. “Go save the world.”
Kara’s gone a heartbeat later, leaving behind quiet and the faint echo of wind. Lena stays in bed longer than she needs to, staring at the ceiling, wondering when this became normal. When Kara wove herself so thoroughly into the fabric of her life that every night seems incomplete unless it ends like this. Tangled, half-asleep, unnamed.
It’s just another one of their rituals. Lena knows that.
They accompany each other to boring work things. That’s all. It was settled ages ago, back when Lena invited Kara to the first L-Corp event she hosted in National City, back when it made sense to have someone familiar in the room. After that, it simply… stuck.
The habit is so embroidered into their friendship—relationship?—that neither of them needs an invitation anymore. Just a heads-up.
So when Kara texts her,
Kara: Boring CatCo thing tonight. Cat is going to talk forever. I’ll need distraction.
Lena smiles at her phone, already reaching for it.
Lena: I’ll bring my A game.
And she does.
She chooses her favorite dress, the one that knows exactly what to do with her collarbone and doesn’t pretend not to understand the assignment when it comes to cleavage. She tells herself she’s dressing for the room, for confidence, for herself. All perfectly reasonable explanations.
Kara seems to agree anyway.
She notices it immediately, since it's a little hard not to, and then seems entirely incapable of stopping. Her eyes keep drifting back, like they’ve found a point of orbit they weren’t warned about. She misses half of Cat’s opening monologue. She bumps her knee into Lena’s chair and murmurs an apology that doesn’t sound particularly sorry.
Lena catches it. The looking. The way Kara’s attention keeps snagging and returning.
For a moment, something in her pauses. Tilts.
Then she smooths it over, neat and practiced. Kara is bad at subtlety. And to be fair, she knows this dress is… a little too distracting. Anyone would look.
That explanation settles easily enough.
Lena crosses her legs, leans closer so Kara can hear Cat complaining about bad journalism, and lets the thought dissolve before it can finish forming. She’ll just—
not wear this dress again around Kara. You know. Not to distract her.
It’s somewhere between Cat’s third digression and Kara’s fourth barely-suppressed yawn that someone else notices.
Maxwell Lord, unfortunately, decides to exist near them.
He slides into the space beside Lena like he owns it, smile slick, eyes doing that slow, evaluative drag that makes Lena’s shoulders tighten by instinct. “Ms. Luthor,” he says, voice low, intimate in a way he very much hasn’t earned, “you really should warn people before you wear something like that. It’s distracting.”
Lena’s expression doesn’t change. She’s perfected that. The polite half-smile, the mental note to forget this man later. “I’ll be sure to take that under advisement,” she replies coolly, already turning back toward the stage.
She would’ve let it pass. Filed it away as another small indignity in a long career of them.
Kara doesn’t.
Something in her posture shifts immediately. She straightens. Grows taller. Not metaphorically. Literally. Just enough that Maxwell has to tilt his head up to keep eye contact.
“That’s inappropriate,” Kara says, bright smile gone. Her voice is calm, but there’s steel under it now. “You don’t get to comment on her body.”
Maxwell chuckles, dismissive. “Relax, I meant it as a compliment.”
Kara steps closer. Close enough that Lena can feel the heat of her, the solid certainty of her presence. Kara’s hand finds Lena’s waist firmly. Protectively. Claiming in a way that makes Lena’s breath catch despite herself.
“She doesn’t need your compliments,” Kara continues, eyes steady, unblinking. “Everyone here already knows she’s brilliant. And kind. And powerful.” Her grip tightens, just slightly, a quiet warning. “So if that’s all you’ve got to offer, you can walk away now.”
Maxwell adjusts his posture, chin lifting, pride bruised and scrambling to recover. Lena recognizes the look immediately. The one that precedes a bad decision. She’s about to intervene, about to soften the edges, when Kara steps in again.
“Or,” Kara leans just a fraction closer, voice dropping, “I can make you walk.”
The air thickens, charged, like the room itself has learned how to hold its breath. Something old and unmistakable glints behind Kara’s eyes now, no longer human-small, no longer willing to play along. Maxwell sees it. He goes pale around the edges.
He huffs, scoffs, takes a step back. “Whatever,” he mutters, retreating. Then, smaller. Meaner. “Lesbians.”
The word hits the space between them and falls flat, powerless. Kara doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. She just watches him go with the calm certainty of someone who knows exactly how breakable he is.
Only when he’s gone does the room slowly exhale.
Kara’s hand is still at Lena’s waist.
“Kara,” Lena says quietly, not as a reprimand, and definitely not a warning.
Kara blinks, like she’s coming back into herself. “Sorry,” she says, immediately, pulling her hand away. “I didn’t mean to— I just—”
“I know,” Lena interrupts, surprising herself with how steady her voice sounds. Her pulse, however, is doing something reckless and unhelpful. “Thank you.”
Kara nods, sheepish now, hands tucking into her pockets like she’s trying to make herself smaller again. But the echo of her presence lingers undeniable.
They turn back toward the stage. Cat is still talking. The world keeps spinning.
And Lena, heart humming, thinks not for the first time tonight, that whatever this is, it’s starting to resist being unnamed.
It turns out that Kara seems to be more ready to name it than her.
They’re on a thing. Lena doesn’t call them dates, because dates are for couples, and Kara and her are...not that. Right?
They’re having lunch together about a week after the incident with Maxwell Lord, something easy and familiar, when Clark Kent walks into the restaurant like he belongs in daylight. All earnest smiles and impossible posture.
“Kal! I mean,” Kara schools herself quickly, “Clark! I didn't know you were in National City!”
“Had some business to take care of. Thought I'd stop by and say a hello.”
“Oh, it's good to see you!” She hugs him tightly. When she lets go, she points at Lena with a smile, “You know my girl friend, Lena, right?”
Clark’s brows furrow for half a second. Lena’s nearly meet her hairline. “Yes.” He finally says, “Ms. Luthor, how are you?”
“Good.” Lena swallows. Confused, but good. “Please, join us for lunch.”
“I’d love to,” Clark says, already stepping back, “but I actually have to fly—take a flight back to Metropolis now.”
He looks at Kara. A look that lingers, knowing and fond.
Then he’s gone.
Kara sits back down like nothing remarkable has occurred. She picks up her fork, resumes eating, utterly unbothered by the tectonic shift she’s just caused.
Lena stares at her plate.
Girlfriend, her mind supplies calmly. Not a question. Not a panic. Just the conclusion. The word she’s been looking for. Because, if she’s honest, friends couldn’t begin to explain it.
Not the flying almost daily to Dublin just to bring her scones. Not the way they share a bed more nights than not, bodies fitting together with the ease of long habit. Not the hand at her waist the moment someone else dares to show interest. Not the lunches that are somehow always just the two of them, or the movie nights with legs tangled together like ivy, growing wherever there’s space.
And most of all, not the way Kara comes home to her. Like Lena is an anchor point, not a stopover. Like no matter how far she flies, this is where she lands.
Friends don’t do that.
Girlfriends do.
The realization doesn't panic her. Instead, it provides a strange, clinical relief. All the data points finally align. If this is a relationship, she’ll be good at it. Better than she’s already been. Because once Lena commits to a course of action, she is nothing if not thorough.
She starts the ‘campaign’ by sending flowers the very next day. Because that’s what she should have been doing all along, and stupid, stupid her has apparently been falling behind.
Her phone buzzes almost immediately.
Kara: [picture 📸]
Kara: My favorite! You know me so well ❤️
Lena smiles at her phone, warm and pleased, with the quiet confidence of someone who knows she’s doing something right.
Lena: I was selfishly trying to convince you to come to my yoga class with me.
Kara: You’re trying to buy me out?? Whoa. I was not expecting that.
Kara: Do I really have to?
Lena: No, I suppose not. There’s a girl there who seems interesting. I could try talking to her instead.
There’s a pause. Longer this time.
Kara:
Kara: Fine.
Kara: I’ll see you there.
Lena’s smile deepens, slow and satisfied. She's so good at this girlfriend thing.
The yoga studio smells like eucalyptus and quiet ambition. Lena unrolls her mat with practiced ease, stretching like she belongs anywhere she decides to be. The class hasn’t started yet, the room full of soft conversation and polite distance.
Someone settles onto the mat beside hers.
“Hi,” the woman says easily. “I’m Ella. I think I’ve seen you here before.”
“Yes,” Lena replies. “Lena.”
They talk. Lightly. Harmlessly. Ella compliments her balance, asks how long she’s been coming here. Lena answers, relaxed, grounded. She doesn’t invite anything forward, but she doesn’t retreat either. There’s no need.
And then the door bangs open.
“K—sorry! Sorry—hi—sorry!”
Kara barrels in like a natural disaster with legs, bag half-zipped, shoes in her hands. She skids to a stop when she sees Lena, relief flashing across her face so brightly it’s almost embarrassing.
“You started without me,” Kara whispers loudly as she hustles over.
Lena turns, unbothered, serene.
“Oh,” she says, gesturing. “This is Ella.”
“Hi.”
“And this,” Lena adds, smoothly, without looking back at Kara, “is my partner, Kara. She’s usually more on time.”
Kara drops her bag and blinks.
“Oh.” A beat. Then she brightens, entirely pleased with herself. “I didn’t know we needed partners for this class. Good thing I made it.”
She plops down on the mat beside Lena, grinning, stretching like this was always the arrangement.
Ella looks between them. She notices the way Kara’s knee nudges Lena’s without hesitation. The way Lena doesn’t move away. The way her hand drifts, absent-minded, to rest against Kara’s wrist like it belongs there.
“Right,” Ella says, polite, understanding. She smiles again, this time with an edge of resignation. “Well. That makes sense.”
Lena smiles back, perfectly composed.
“Lucky you,” She says to Kara, already rolling up her mat. “I’ll see you around, Lena.”
Kara, meanwhile, leans closer and whispers, stage-quiet, “Did I miss something?”
Lena doesn’t answer. She just lets her fingers lace with Kara’s.
Because some things don’t need clarification.
It’s late, and it’s raining in National City, so Lena assumes Kara isn’t coming tonight. That assumption has never been particularly reliable.
“Hey!” Kara calls as she steps in from the balcony, rainwater still clinging to her hair and jacket. “I’m super wet, so I’ll just take a quick shower first.”
Lena glances over her shoulder and nods, because what else is there to do, and Kara is already halfway to the bathroom anyway, moving fast like she’s afraid of dripping rain into the house itself.
A few minutes later, she’s back, wrapped in a towel and looking sheepish. “So… all the clothes I left here are dirty.”
Lena smiles, small and indulgent. “Just do it. You don’t have to ask.”
Kara’s grin is immediate, bright. She disappears again and returns wearing Lena’s clothes from head to toe, including an oversized sweater that doesn't look big on her, pajama shorts that hug her thighs in a way that almost makes Lena choke, and to complete the look mismatched socks.
“You know I have matching socks, right?” Lena tries, knowing it's useless.
“What’s the fun in that?” Kara replies easily, already heading toward the kitchen. “What did you have for dinner?”
It turns out Lena didn’t have dinner. Not because she forgot, or because she was too busy, but because she was expecting something like this to happen, and she didn’t want to be full when Kara arrived.
“Lena!” Kara protests, head buried in the fridge. “You have to eat! Honestly.” She straightens, frowning. “Am I the only one who cares about your health?”
Lena just smiles, leaning against the counter, watching Kara move through her kitchen like she belongs there. Kara doesn’t ask where things are. She just knows. Opens the right drawer. Finds the pan Lena favors without thinking. Pulls ingredients out like this is a memory she’s revisiting, not a space she’s borrowing.
“Okay,” Kara says, decisively, tying Lena’s apron around her own waist like this is settled law. “Sit. You look like you’re about to argue, and I will win.”
“I don’t argue,” Lena says mildly.
Kara shoots her a look over her shoulder. “You litigate.”
Lena huffs a laugh despite herself and does as she’s told, perching on a stool, chin in her palm. She watches the small things. The way Kara rolls up sleeves that aren’t hers. The way she tastes the sauce, frowns, adds something, tastes again, nods like she’s solved a riddle only she was given.
It’s domestic. Obscenely so.
Kara talks while she cooks, filling the space with nonsense about CatCo and a printer that hates her personally, and Lena hums at the right moments, lets the sound of Kara’s voice settle into her bones. When Kara finally slides a plate in front of her, she doesn’t make a big deal out of it. Just nudges it closer, hand brushing Lena’s fingers.
“Eat, please.” she says, gentler now.
Lena does. Because Kara is eating with her, so it makes sense now. Because it feels like being cared for without being inspected.
They end up on the couch afterward, rain louder now, the city blurred into watercolor beyond the glass. Kara kicks her feet up, mismatched socks resting against Lena’s thigh. At some point, without ceremony, Kara reaches out and tucks a strand of Lena’s hair behind her ear. The motion is so automatic it barely registers on Kara’s face.
It lands in Lena like a dropped plate.
She doesn’t think about it. Not really. There’s no strategy meeting, no internal debate. She just turns, slow, careful, and kisses Kara.
It’s brief. Soft. A question asked with her mouth and answered immediately by the way Kara goes utterly still.
When Kara pulls back, her eyes are wide, bright, a little stunned, like someone just shook her entire world.
“Oh,” Kara says. Then, helplessly, “Oh.”
Lena watches her, heart steady, mind calm in a way it rarely allows itself to be. Girlfriend, it supplies again, softly. Not a panic. Not a question. Just the word settling into place.
“You—We—” Kara stands abruptly, pacing like the room has wronged her personally. She opens her mouth, closes it, rubs a hand through her hair. Words seem to scatter the moment she reaches for them.
“You’re okay?” Lena asks, a sliver of unease finally slipping into her voice.
“I mean—you just—you kissed me!” Kara blurts, stopping short in front of her, eyes wide like this is breaking news.
“Well, yes,” Lena says, genuinely puzzled. “That’s what girlfriends do. It did take us long enough.”
“Girlfriends?” Kara repeats faintly. “You mean, like—like Alex and Kelly?”
“Well, they’re married now,” Lena says reasonably, “but essentially, yes.” She tilts her head. “Why are you surprised? You’re the one who called me that.”
Kara freezes.
Somewhere, very far away, the truth finally begins to catch up with her.
“I said girl—pause—friend,” Kara blurts. “You know. Like… girls. That are friends.”
Lena stares at her.
“What?” She stands too, shock snapping through her composure. “Who talks like that? No one talks like that!”
“I thought—wait—” Kara winces. “Is this what you meant by partner? At yoga?”
“Yes, Kara!” Lena throws her hands up. “How did you not realize?” She sinks back onto the couch, mortified. “The woman who saw us once figured it out before you did.”
She presses a hand to her face, groaning.
“Oh my god. I feel so stupid. I’ve been acting like we’re dating for weeks.”
The room goes very quiet.
Kara swallows, standing there in mismatched socks, staring at Lena like she’s just discovered gravity has been optional this whole time.
“Maybe you shouldn’t stay the night,” Lena says at last. The words come out steady, but they hurt anyway. “I don’t think I want to wake up tangled in someone who isn’t my girlfriend.”
Kara looks like she’s been struck. Her voice drops, barely there. “But I love waking up tangled in you.”
Oh God. Lena absolutely cannot do this. She can’t handle her own stupidity, let alone Kara’s. She is mortified in a way that feels permanent, like a personality flaw. She considers, very seriously, never leaving her apartment again.
“God, Kara,” she says, pressing a hand to her face. “You don’t get to say things like that after telling me we’re just friends.”
“I didn’t say that,” Kara insists quickly. “I just—” She falters. “Apparently didn’t realize we were already… there.”
Lena scoffs, rolling her eyes, and that’s when the tear escapes, uninvited and traitorous. She doesn’t wipe it away fast enough.
Kara’s chest tightens painfully at the sight.
“But hey,” Kara says softly, dropping to her knees in front of her. “I’m all caught up now.”
Lena looks down at her, wary, arms crossed like she’s bracing for impact. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Kara says, her hands finding Lena’s and holding them gently but firmly, stilling her before she can hide her face, “that I’m an idiot. A huge, flying, catastrophically oblivious idiot.” She lets out a breathy laugh, more fond than amused. “I’ve been living in your house, wearing your clothes, spending every spare second figuring out how fast I can get back to you… and I genuinely thought I was just very good at being a friend.”
Lena’s lip trembles despite herself, annoyance and hope tangling together in her chest. “You called me your girlfriend in front of Clark,” she says. “And for the record, that man absolutely thinks you meant girls who are in love.”
Kara nods, immediate and unrepentant. “Okay. Then he’s right.” She leans in, resting her forehead against Lena’s. “Because you’re my person, Lena. You always have been. You’re where I land. So girlfriend, partner—whatever word you want—they’re all true.”
Lena exhales slowly, the last of the tension draining from her shoulders. “Why am I surprised you’re late even to us?”
Kara laughs, bright and warm and relieved. “I know. I’m sorry.” Her gaze drops, unmistakably intentional now, lingering on Lena’s mouth. “But I’m here. And I want to wake up tangled in you. So I’m not going anywhere.”
This time, when they kiss, it isn’t a question. It’s an answer. Slow, sure, like something finally locking into place after weeks of hovering just off-center.
When they pull apart, Lena is breathless, composure mostly restored, heart still sprinting ahead of her.
“Okay,” she says lightly, like she isn’t smiling. “Fine. Then take me to bed, girlfriend.”
Kara’s grin is immediate. “You got it, partner.”
Lena rolls her eyes, fond. “Yeah. I hear it.”
“See?” Kara says triumphantly, already picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom.
Lena hums. “And here I thought you were supposed to be saving me, tonight.”
Kara blinks up from the food to Lena’s chest—oops—before meeting Lena’s eyes. “Save you?” she says. “Haha. What. Like, uh, like Supergirl? Or whatever?”
“No, silly,” Lena says, smiling so fondly at her that it makes Kara a little lightheaded. “As my bodyguard, of course.”
“Oh right! That’s me!” Kara grins, puffing out her chest and clicking her heels and keeping her eyeline firmly above Lena’s shoulders. “At your service, ma’am. Ready to guard your—um.” She halts. “Your… body,” she finishes, flinching.
-
In which Supergirl attends a fancy party in D.C. to stop a mysterious assassin, and wow, would you look at that? Lena Luthor is there too! What a complete and utter coincidence!
If scars are for the living
Then I could be forgiven
(You're the light, you're the light)
This is a redraw of an old piece from 2019, back when I was just starting digital art! I don’t always see my own progress, but i think i've improved a bit🤏
Lena’s falling. The wind is whipping around her, breathe caught in her lungs as she flails, the ground rushing towards her.
She knew this would happen one day. Well, not this exactly, not being pushed over her balcony, but she knew one day Lex would finally do it, finally find a way to kill her.
As quick as it all happens, suddenly it’s over, and not because she hits the ground, but because strong arms catch her, scooping her out of the air like it’s nothing.
“I’ve got you,” Lena hears Supergirl say, the words nearly lost to the wind as Supergirl flies them to the ground.
Lena can’t respond, the panic finally settling in of what almost happened. Instead, she turns her face into Supergirl’s neck, to hide the view of the ground that they’re now steadily moving towards. She’ll be embarrassed later, but right now she doesn’t care about anything else except for the fact that she’s somehow alive.
Lena knows when Supergirl lands, the wind ceasing around them. Supergirl gently eases her to the ground, movements slow. Lena is unsteady as she tries to stand, adrenaline still rushing through her. Her knees feel weak, but even when she’s standing on her own two feet, Lena doesn’t let go of Supergirl.
It seems Supergirl knows she needs the support, because she doesn’t let go of her either, hands keeping her steady.
Lena’s eyes stay fixed on the crest on Supergirl’s chest as she takes steadying breathes. If she still wasn’t so shaken, she’d find the humour in the fact that Lex hates two people in this world, her and Superman, and it’s Superman’s cousin that has saved her.
“Are you okay?” Supergirl asks, Lena finally looking up. She finds anxious eyes roaming over her face, looking for any sign she’s not okay.
“I…” Lena starts, nodding when she can’t find her words.
Supergirl still looks worried, blue eyes intense as she looks at Lena.
And it’s the blue that catches Lena’s attention, the colour so familiar. The look makes her feel safe, even if this evening easily could have gone another way.
Lena finds her own eyes caught on that blue though, something tugging at the back of her mind. She should be focused on the guys who are still probably in her office, on the fact that people are starting to walk out of her building, including her own security.
But she’s not, because Supergirl’s face is holding her attention. She’s so close, she’s not sure they’ve been this close before, or not for this long. Not long enough for Lena to study her like she is now.
Lena’s eyes drop slightly, and it’s then she notices the freckles scattered high across Supergirl’s cheeks.
She didn’t know Supergirl had freckles.
But she does know someone who does.
Someone who also has very distinctive blue eyes.
Lena’s eyes glance up and gets the confirmation she’s looking for, her sudden suspicions confirmed when she find the small scar on Supergirl’s forehead.
On Kara’s forehead.
“Kara,” Lena breathes, the name slipping out by accident.
Blue eyes widen and she knows Kara has heard it. Of course she did, she has superhearing.
“Lena, I-“
Kara is cut off as Lena’s security arrives.
“Miss Luthor, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lena says, everything else going to the back of her mind temporarily. “Have the men that were in my office been apprehended?”
“Not yet, they-“
“I’ll be right back,” Kara says and then she’s gone, Lena luckily steady enough on her own feet to support herself now. She feels the sudden cold though, where Kara’s hands had been keeping her steady.
Lena starts giving a report to her security guard about exactly what happened, and she hears sirens in the distance so she knows the police have been called. She keeps her eyes on the sky though, knows Kara will get them. She’s anxious as she talks, worried about Kara, worried this is actually some kind of trap for her. She wouldn’t put it past Lex.
She doesn’t need to worry, just as the first police car arrives, she sees the telltale red and blue in the sky and not long later, Kara lands nearby, two scared looking men with her.
Serves them right, she hopes Kara gave them a good scare.
Supergirl hands them over to a police officer before she makes her way back to Lena.
Lena hasn’t had much time to think about exactly what this all means. Her best friend has been lying to her for the last few years, and she should be upset by that. And she is, but she also knows that Kara must have had her reasons for not telling her, and before she jumps to any conclusions, they need to talk.
“How are you?” Kara asks, and Lena can tell she’s nervous. Lena would laugh at the question if the situation wasn’t so serious, because between getting thrown off a building, and finding out her best friend is a superhero, it’s been one hell of an evening.
“I’m okay,” Lena says. “How are you?”
Kara does laugh at this, but Lena thinks it’s more of a nervous laugh than anything. “You’re asking me how I am? I’m not the one who was thrown off her balcony.”
Lena smiles, aware of the people around them. “You saved me, so thank you.”
Kara stays silent for a moment, still watching Lena. “Always,” she finally says, and Lena can hear the conviction in her voice. She means it.
“Do you need a lift home?” Kara asks. Lena wonders if she ever offers anyone else she saves a lift home. She thinks the answer is probably no.
But Lena reads the question for what it actually is. “Can we talk?”
But she’s not really up for flying anytime soon.
Lena shakes her head. “No thank you, I think I’ve done enough flying for today.” Lena sees the fear in Kara’s eyes, the thought that Lena is rejecting her offer to talk, so Lena quickly adds, “And I won’t go home, I’ll go to Kara’s apartment.”
“Okay, good. You shouldn’t be alone.” Kara clears her throat, stands a little straighter, raising her voice a little too. “Stay safe, and stay away from balconies.”
Lena smiles, Kara the picture of Supergirl in front of her, National City’s hero. But all Lena can see is her best friend.
Kara gives her a small nod, steps back and then she’s off, presumably flying back to her apartment so they can talk, finally get everything out in the open. If nothing else, Lena is glad she won’t be alone this evening.
Lena’s falling. The wind is whipping around her, breathe caught in her lungs as she flails, the ground rushing towards her.
She knew this would happen one day. Well, not this exactly, not being pushed over her balcony, but she knew one day Lex would finally do it, finally find a way to kill her.
As quick as it all happens, suddenly it’s over, and not because she hits the ground, but because strong arms catch her, scooping her out of the air like it’s nothing.
“I’ve got you,” Lena hears Supergirl say, the words nearly lost to the wind as Supergirl flies them to the ground.
Lena can’t respond, the panic finally settling in of what almost happened. Instead, she turns her face into Supergirl’s neck, to hide the view of the ground that they’re now steadily moving towards. She’ll be embarrassed later, but right now she doesn’t care about anything else except for the fact that she’s somehow alive.
Lena knows when Supergirl lands, the wind ceasing around them. Supergirl gently eases her to the ground, movements slow. Lena is unsteady as she tries to stand, adrenaline still rushing through her. Her knees feel weak, but even when she’s standing on her own two feet, Lena doesn’t let go of Supergirl.
It seems Supergirl knows she needs the support, because she doesn’t let go of her either, hands keeping her steady.
Lena’s eyes stay fixed on the crest on Supergirl’s chest as she takes steadying breathes. If she still wasn’t so shaken, she’d find the humour in the fact that Lex hates two people in this world, her and Superman, and it’s Superman’s cousin that has saved her.
“Are you okay?” Supergirl asks, Lena finally looking up. She finds anxious eyes roaming over her face, looking for any sign she’s not okay.
“I…” Lena starts, nodding when she can’t find her words.
Supergirl still looks worried, blue eyes intense as she looks at Lena.
And it’s the blue that catches Lena’s attention, the colour so familiar. The look makes her feel safe, even if this evening easily could have gone another way.
Lena finds her own eyes caught on that blue though, something tugging at the back of her mind. She should be focused on the guys who are still probably in her office, on the fact that people are starting to walk out of her building, including her own security.
But she’s not, because Supergirl’s face is holding her attention. She’s so close, she’s not sure they’ve been this close before, or not for this long. Not long enough for Lena to study her like she is now.
Lena’s eyes drop slightly, and it’s then she notices the freckles scattered high across Supergirl’s cheeks.
She didn’t know Supergirl had freckles.
But she does know someone who does.
Someone who also has very distinctive blue eyes.
Lena’s eyes glance up and gets the confirmation she’s looking for, her sudden suspicions confirmed when she find the small scar on Supergirl’s forehead.
On Kara’s forehead.
“Kara,” Lena breathes, the name slipping out by accident.
Blue eyes widen and she knows Kara has heard it. Of course she did, she has superhearing.
“Lena, I-“
Kara is cut off as Lena’s security arrives.
“Miss Luthor, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lena says, everything else going to the back of her mind temporarily. “Have the men that were in my office been apprehended?”
“Not yet, they-“
“I’ll be right back,” Kara says and then she’s gone, Lena luckily steady enough on her own feet to support herself now. She feels the sudden cold though, where Kara’s hands had been keeping her steady.
Lena starts giving a report to her security guard about exactly what happened, and she hears sirens in the distance so she knows the police have been called. She keeps her eyes on the sky though, knows Kara will get them. She’s anxious as she talks, worried about Kara, worried this is actually some kind of trap for her. She wouldn’t put it past Lex.
She doesn’t need to worry, just as the first police car arrives, she sees the telltale red and blue in the sky and not long later, Kara lands nearby, two scared looking men with her.
Serves them right, she hopes Kara gave them a good scare.
Supergirl hands them over to a police officer before she makes her way back to Lena.
Lena hasn’t had much time to think about exactly what this all means. Her best friend has been lying to her for the last few years, and she should be upset by that. And she is, but she also knows that Kara must have had her reasons for not telling her, and before she jumps to any conclusions, they need to talk.
“How are you?” Kara asks, and Lena can tell she’s nervous. Lena would laugh at the question if the situation wasn’t so serious, because between getting thrown off a building, and finding out her best friend is a superhero, it’s been one hell of an evening.
“I’m okay,” Lena says. “How are you?”
Kara does laugh at this, but Lena thinks it’s more of a nervous laugh than anything. “You’re asking me how I am? I’m not the one who was thrown off her balcony.”
Lena smiles, aware of the people around them. “You saved me, so thank you.”
Kara stays silent for a moment, still watching Lena. “Always,” she finally says, and Lena can hear the conviction in her voice. She means it.
“Do you need a lift home?” Kara asks. Lena wonders if she ever offers anyone else she saves a lift home. She thinks the answer is probably no.
But Lena reads the question for what it actually is. “Can we talk?”
But she’s not really up for flying anytime soon.
Lena shakes her head. “No thank you, I think I’ve done enough flying for today.” Lena sees the fear in Kara’s eyes, the thought that Lena is rejecting her offer to talk, so Lena quickly adds, “And I won’t go home, I’ll go to Kara’s apartment.”
“Okay, good. You shouldn’t be alone.” Kara clears her throat, stands a little straighter, raising her voice a little too. “Stay safe, and stay away from balconies.”
Lena smiles, Kara the picture of Supergirl in front of her, National City’s hero. But all Lena can see is her best friend.
Kara gives her a small nod, steps back and then she’s off, presumably flying back to her apartment so they can talk, finally get everything out in the open. If nothing else, Lena is glad she won’t be alone this evening.
Supercorp identity reveal au where Lena figures it out when she is at a gala or a party or something with Kara. Kara is on the far side of the room where no human would be able to hear Lena without her screaming at the top of her lungs between the distance and the music and general noise in the room. Lena is talking with Sam, who notices the loving gaze Lena has locked on Kara, and Sam “casually” asks Lena how her love life is going. Lena who is completely distracted by the sight of Kara throwing her head back in laughter mumbles, mostly to herself, “I can’t believe I am going to fuck someone who says corny shit like ‘golly’.” At which point the glass Kara is holding explodes and Kara’s head snaps to find Lena’s eyes already on her and she starts blushing furiously.
Lena’s barely focused on the movie in front of her. She knows Kara is going to be a little upset later when she asks Lena what she thinks of the movie and Lena will admit she wasn’t really watching, but Kara is the source of her distraction.
Kara is tucked up against Lena’s side, her head resting on Lena’s shoulder. Kara’s taken one of Lena’s hands, has it resting in her lap, and is absentmindedly playing with her fingers.
It’s not just that that has Lena distracted, not just the warmth of Kara beside her, it’s everything about Kara. The way Kara has become this steady presence in her life, how she became her best friend so quickly, how Kara become her biggest protector and was always there for her, how they became so much more when Kara had kissed her during a random work lunch.
Lena had never believed in soulmates before Kara, she’d never believed that there was someone out there for her, someone who would match her completely, who would challenge her to be better, who would bring out the best in her.
Someone who would make her happier than she ever could have imagined.
Lena glances around the living room, sees how their lives have become even more intertwined since Kara had asked her to move in with her two months ago. This isn’t just Kara’s apartment anymore, it’s their apartment. Their home.
Lena’s never had a home before, not like this. Not one where she feels safe and loved and like she belongs. Not one where she can be completely and utterly herself without fear of judgement.
It’s the sort of home she’d always dreamt of as a child, one she wasn’t sure was real.
But now she has that with Kara, with Kara’s friends and family too, a place she belongs in the world.
She knows, without a doubt, that’s she’s going to marry Kara one day. Before they’d started dating, Lena had imagined it, what a life with Kara could look like. Had never believed it to be possible, not the way she wanted it.
But now when she pictures their future, it’s something she can share with Kara, something that Kara wants too.
It’s a bit early in their relationship, but Lena has already been looking at engagement rings.
Kara shifts beside her, snuggling closer, and Lena’s heart does a little flip in her chest.
She’s really never felt like this about anyone before.
And she knows Kara feels the same way.
Lena doesn’t even realise the movie has ended until Kara shifts, sitting up this time. Lena misses the warmth immediately. Kara is always incredibly warm, which works out nicely because Lena is always cold.
“What did you think?” Kara asks.
Lena knows Kara will see through any lie, so she doesn’t even attempt it. Instead, she just leans forward, hands cupping Kara’s cheeks as she pulls her in for a kiss.
“What was that for?” Kara asks, looking a little dazed when Lena pulls away.
Lena feels a little dazed too.
“Because I wanted to,” Lena smiles.
Kara doesn’t seem to need any more information, and movie completely forgotten, Kara’s the one that kisses her this time.
hi there anon! some feeling for the sake of feeling on this one … hope you don’t mind … this idea actually has been stuck in my head for so long and this was just the right prompt to knock it loose
from the touch prompts list - ⁸⁾ thighs wrapped around a waist
inspired by this post that is at least partly to blame for my attachment to oranges as analogues for intimacy and that one image of Melissa walking around set with her suit half off
… also not fully familiar territory here so a little nervous
----
Notes on Oranges (Kara and Lena)
----
Kara lands and the apartment is already dark, already quiet. Her gaze drifts to the bedroom. She can just make out Lena's dress crumpled on the rug, can imagine her shrugging it off as soon as she walked through the door. Lena herself is curled within a mass of bedding and pillows, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, one foot hanging off the end, and it would be so nice just to slip right in beside her. Instead, she drops down onto the couch, sinking into the cushions as her cape spills out around her.
She closes her eyes for just a second and then leans forward just a little, reaching down to tuck her fingers past the top of her boot. She eases her leg from the worn leather, one after the other, until they fall with a soft thud against the floor.
Fingertips find the clasps at her shoulders. She unhooks them slowly, one by one, arches her back as she stretches to find the zipper she usually ignores. Tonight, though, her body seems content at a slower pace.
She lets out a soft sigh before pushing herself back up from the couch, hand sweeping through her hair, arms pulling through her sleeves.
Barefoot, half-undressed, she crosses the worn floorboards to the kitchen and the orange sitting on the table.
She picks it up, turns it over in her hands as she thinks of Lena's smile when she had given it to her that afternoon at lunch. Pulled from her bag, wrapped in a napkin, placed in her palm.
I thought of you. I saved something for you.
Arms slide around her waist. A chin rests on her shoulder.
Kara's fingers press into the pebbled skin of the orange until it just starts to give.
"Hey," Lena breathes, and she can feel the curve of her smile against her neck, can hear the undercurrent of happiness in that single syllable.
Kara leans back into her.
"You didn't eat your orange." brow creasing as she turns the fruit over in her hands, thumb running carefully over it, feeling each imperfection.
"I was waiting to share it with you." Lena's eyes narrow with amusement.
I thought of you. I saved something for you.
"I'm sorry," Kara says softly. "For waking you."
"You didn't." Lena pauses. "I was just..."
"Waiting," she repeats.
Lena smiles and shakes her head, taking the orange from her hand.
She watches the deft, practiced motions of her hands as they work at the surface. Her fingers find where the stem once was, push gently, then insistent, until it splits, breaks through to white pith, the bright scent of citrus suddenly filling the room, filling her nose, landing on her skin.
They share sections of it, fingers touching, lingering, becoming sticky.
Lena shifts closer as she pops another piece into her mouth.
There is a stray bit of pulp that gets caught in the corner of her mouth. Kara reaches up to gently wipe it away.
It's the kind of ease that suggests practice, suggests repetition.
But this peace and contentment it's new.
Kara takes the last piece of orange between her teeth, lets it rest on her tongue before biting down.
When it's all gone, Lena takes her hand and guides her towards their room.
Their room.
She stumbles over the possessive just briefly.
Stumbles over her feet just barely.
She stops to take off the rest of her suit, balancing ungracefully on one foot as Lena watches with a smirk, gathering it up along with her dress and laying them both over the back of a chair to be put away in the morning.
The sheets are still warm and Kara slides between them gratefully.
Lena's hand finds the curve of her hip and pulls her down, fingers spreading to cover as much surface as possible.
Here. There.
She kisses her and she tastes like orange, citrus-bright and sweet. Kara chases it across the collar of her shirt, along the column of her throat.
The window lets in fragments of the city—distant sirens, the rustle of leaves, a car door closing—but Lena's voice cuts through it all.
"Stay."
Though neither of them has moved, has nowhere else to go. The request feels weightless, already answered in the press of their bodies.
Lena inhales as Kara's mouth finds the sensitive spot below her ear. Her fingers dig into her shoulders. The radiator kicks on with a soft hiss, but Kara barely notices. She's focused on the way Lena's spine arches as she drags her teeth lightly along her throat, how her breath hitches on every other exhale.
Lena's shirt has ridden up and Kara slides her hand beneath it, palm flat against the plane of her stomach. The skin warm. Soft. Tacky from the bits of pulp still on her fingers.
Lena's knees tighten against her ribs, feet locking behind her, holding her there.
"Off," she says, tugging at the mess of bunched up fabric between them.
Kara nudges at her hands, nips at her skin.
Reaches first for her own shirt. Then Lena's.
It catches for a moment on her shoulders, on her arms, and she makes a small sound—impatience or frustration or need, Kara can't tell which. Lena folds at the hips, spine curving forward as the shirt slides up over her ribcage, over her breasts, and then it's free, pulled over her head as she tosses it aside without looking, without caring where it lands.
Kara's hands braced on her knees, Lena's chest pulled up towards hers.
The room feels smaller. Or perhaps they've gotten larger.
"Hi."
The word is absurd. Ridiculous. They have been touching for? Minutes? Hours? Time has become unreliable. And yet the greeting feels appropriate somehow, feels like an acknowledgment of this new position, this new angle, of seeing and being seen.
"Hi," Kara echoes, and she can feel the curve of her own smile, can feel something loosening in her chest, some tightness she didn't know she was holding.
Hair falls across her forehead. A few strands sticking to her temples. Her lips slightly parted, slightly swollen.
Kara catalogues all of it. Commits it to memory. The way Lena looks right now, in this exact configuration of light and shadow and proximity.
Lena shifts her hips upward. A small adjustment. A small claiming of even more space. A physical underlining.
Yes, this. Exactly this.
Her hand comes up to cup Lena's jaw.
Delicate. Sharp.
She can feel the hinge of it working as Lena breathes, as she swallows.
Her thumb brushes across Lena's bottom lip.
Traces the shape of it. The bow of the upper. The fuller curve of the lower.
For a moment they both hold still.
Conversation. Understanding.
Then Lena's tongue is touching the pad of Kara's thumb.
Then her lips are closing around it.
Kara feels it everywhere.
It makes her throat tight. Makes her breathing uneven. Makes her other hand tighten on Lena's waist, fingers pressing into soft flesh until it just starts to give.
Kara's hand slides between them. Lena's fingers wrap around her wrist.
Pulls her to where there is fabric. Then there isn't.
There's a moment of awkwardness, of trying to coordinate, of elbows and angles that don't quite work.
Kara adjusts their bodies, her thumb slipping free from Lena's mouth so she can reach past her, brace her hand against the headboard, and Lena makes a sound that is almost a sob, her hands scrabbling at her back, nails finding purchase against invulnerable skin but leaving their impression anyway.
Hips and hands tilt forward, up, in.
Bodies arching, taking, asking.
"Is this—" Kara starts.
"Yes—" Lena pauses "Just—"
She pulls her down and Kara can taste salt and skin, acid and sweetness, everything mixing together, everything shared.
"Please," though what she's asking for isn't clear — more, less, this, everything.
Pressure. Friction. Attention.
Lena comes apart with Kara's name caught between her teeth.
And then she is pulling her down again, pulling her close, even though there is no closer to go.
Kara follows with her forehead pressed against Lena's chest, with Lena's voice whispering encouragements, permissions, endearments that she doesn't quite hear but feels anyway in the vibration of Lena's throat, in the pressure of her fingernails against her scalp.
It feels like dissolution, like the boundaries of her body are becoming porous, uncertain. Spilling out into someone else.
She kisses the gap between Lena's breasts. Kisses the roundness of her stomach. Tastes herself. Tastes Lena. Tastes the notes of citrus lingering even now, even still. The fruit's flesh having somehow made its way into their own, having become part of them, absorbed, integrated, made cellular.
They hold onto each other. Thigh to hip, ankle to calf. This shape they've made together out of an accumulation of limbs and want. Legs. Arms. Hands. Fingers. Thighs. Sticky skin. Damp sweat. Gentle ache.
Here, this, us, stay, please, yes.
There is a bruise forming on Lena's hip where Kara forgot, briefly, to be careful. There is an imprint of teeth on Kara's thumb, already fading.
Lena finally unfolds, her legs sliding down to tangle with Kara's beneath sheets that only barely remain in their place.
"I—" Kara starts, and stops.
Love.
She rolls the word on her tongue.
But it clings to the roof of her mouth like pith.
This peace and contentment is still new.
Kara watches Lena's face in the dim light. Watches the flush that's spreads from her chest up her throat to bloom across her cheeks. Watches her breathing gradually slow, return to normal, watches the small smile once again forming at the corners of her mouth.
In the morning, there will be coffee, bitter and dark.
Sheets and clothes that will need washing.
Bits of orange peel left on the counter, curled and browning and waiting to be thrown away.
But for now, there is the scent of citrus everywhere. In the air, in their mouths, on their skin.
Offer what the words she swallows can’t.
Residue. Evidence. Proof.
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