adora/catra, "wanna make out?" pls?
The squeak of the whiteboard marker makes Catra’s teeth grate. She has to restrain herself from grinding her fangs together, her ears pressed flat against her head as she lounges on Adora’s bed and watches Adora mumble to herself.
“Adora,” she calls, and Adora hums but doesn’t turn around. She adds another neat, stylised arrow to her board, and Catra grumbles under her breath.
“Adora,” she calls, louder this time.
Adora looks over her shoulder to ask, “Yes, Catra?”
But she doesn’t lift her pen from the board. Catra’s eye twitches.
“Wanna make out?” she says, and grins as Adora’s neat arrow goes crooked.
“I- plans-” Adora says, and Catra rolls over onto her back, watching Adora upside-down, her tail flicking by her leg. Adora, like she’s drawn in by the sight of Catra sprawled out, takes a step away from the whiteboard, and Catra grins.
“You’re overthinking it,” she says, lazily, and reaches her hands out, beckoning Adora in with one sharp claw. “You need to leave more space for things to go badly.”
“Planning will stop them from going badly,” Adora refutes, but Catra rolls her eyes.
“Tell that to Kyle,” she says, and then finally Adora is close enough for Catra to flip off the bed and hook her hands into the lapels of Adora’s shirt. Adora’s lips quirk at the corner, and Catra catches the moment she puts away her planning and relents to Catra’s determination. She tilts her head and presses their lips together, feeling that smile against her mouth.
Adora always sighs into their kisses, starts all soft till Catra can coax her into doing what Catra wants, but today she’s lax and easy, already having decided to surrender. Catra can tug her back to their bunk with barely any coaxing, but misjudges the bedframe and accidentally pulls Adora ontop of her.
Adora laughs when Catra yelps, her golden hair ticking Catra’s cheeks, and Catra nips at her bottom lip in revenge.
“Such a bad influence,” Adora mumbles against her mouth, “dragging me to nap with you.”
Catra huffs. “Stopping you from working yourself into a frenzy? Yeah, I’m terrible.”
Adora presses another kiss to her mouth, her hands braced on the bed at either side of Catra’s head, and Catra twines her hands tighter in Adora’s shirt to pull Adora closer.
“Hate the pen,” she grumbles, and Adora lays on top of her and presses a series of soft kisses across her cheeks.
“Sorry,” Adora says, coupling the apology with another gentle kiss on Catra’s lips, and Catra grins.
“Make it up to me,” she orders, and hears Adora snort.
“Whatever you want, Catra,” Adora says, and reaches to twine their fingers together, trapping their interlocked hands between their bodies.
Always, you, Catra thinks, and leans into Adora’s next kiss.