for the kisses prompt - number 4 if you'd like
Kara doesn't mean for it to happen.
(She's thought about it, sure. Daydreamed, maybe. Forgot her eyes on Lena's lips every once in a while, yes, who could blame her? But she has boundaries and friendship and don't ruin it firmly on her mind, too, and she's not gonna mess up for – whatever that is. A little crush.)
But it happens anyway.
It's all so innocent – sitting side by side on Lena's couch, Lena's hair tickling Kara's cheek, Kara's hand resting on Lena's knee, the pair of them poring over the plans for a new suit, Kara feeling every minuscule flex in Lena's forearm against her own as Lena draws and re-draws some parts, eyebrows furrowed until she finally figures it out and turns towards Kara with a victorious smile, just as Kara turns, a You're amazing!! ready on her lips–
And it happens.
It's nothing. The merest touch, barely lasting a heartbeat. There's no full contact, no smearing of lipstick. Kara pulls back immediately, frozen, mortified, her brain already kicking into hyperspeed. Should I just giggle and say ‘that was awkward, sorry!’, should i not say anything, should I apologize, should I just fling myself into another dimension until this all blows over?
It stops as suddenly as it started, with two simultaneous realizations:
One, that Lena’s not moved away, jumped back in horror, cringed, grimaced, or anything of the sort–
Two, that if anything, Lena’s leaning closer. That even though she seems startled, her pupils have grown a little wider, and her lips, twisting into that radiant smile a moment ago, are now slightly parted, head tilted towards Kara, waiting, offering.
Kara’s mind grows blank.
She leans in with intent this time, with a trembling bravado, pressing her lips against Lena’s just a touch more than she did before, the tiniest fraction of all that she wants, the greatest extent of all that she dares. It could still go wrong, it could still be nothing, it could be just Lena being polite, it could be anything, but Kara wants to savor it, just this one moment of a dream.
It might very well be a dream. Lena sighs, a breathy little oh against her mouth. One hand comes up to cup Kara’s cheek, caressing, the other fiddling with the collar of her shirt, and Kara already feels like she’s been struck by lightning. But then the hand in her shirt tugs and Lena draws back just enough for Kara to see how her lipstick has smudged just a touch, how the look in her eyes has turned from surprise to hungry desire:
“Kiss me in earnest.”
