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One & One

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“I think first shower falls to you.” Lena draws an exact pattern over a specific section of the balcony table’s tiled surface with the pad of her index finger; sending a glance over her shoulder as the door clicks open and doing her utmost to hide her smile.

“If we’re going by filth factor, yes.” Kara - who’s standing back to keep any grime from ending up on the table and potentially interfering - smirks. She still looks mostly like she went three rounds with a truckload of coal refuse and lost, and the overall effect is strangely adorable.

“Obviously.” The smile slips free, though. “I have half a mind to tell you to take that thing off out here, and not just because you look better out of it.”

The faint tinge of pink in those cheeks is as instant as ever, though the sharply cocked eyebrow is a more recent development. “Not like anyone else would see,” Kara points out reasonably.

She’s right, of course. That’s the sort of privacy that comes with a penthouse apartment, not to mention one where most of the windows - as well as the balcony - has an unimpeded view of the Pacific. The best one in National City, in fact, since the building itself sits on the very end of a peninsula of reclaimed land, with all its neighbors further back. And if the better part of the residents in this building happen to be connected to the DEO in some way, that’s simply a happy accident.

(Kara will swear up and down that this was Lena’s plan before she even signed off on the project. Lena admits to nothing.)

“Extraterrestrials first,” she offers; sweeping a hand towards the door and needing to swallow a chuckle when Kara bows regally - or close enough to it, at least - before entering without taking a single step. “Thank you for floating.”

“Thank you for choosing Supergirl Airways for all your flying needs,” Kara drawls in response, and Lena has to bite the inside of her cheek because she’s well beyond tired enough to never stop laughing if she first gets started.

It’s been a long day, and while stepping into the familiar colors and comforts of their living room is doing wonders in relaxing her that last, tiny bit, it’s also making her realize that when she was last here, it was already way too early in the morning. So it’s probably for the best that Kara’s alien constitution leaves her a little less of an overtired ball of potential giggles. It certainly keeps Lena on her toes.

“Should I just change here?”

“Not on your life.” She quirks an eyebrow and presses a single finger to the center of Kara’s chest; well aware that the only reason she’s managing to nudge her backwards is because Kara is letting her. “I don’t know exactly what a DEO dryclean entails, but I do know that unlike your suit, the carpets won’t survive it.”

“Our suits.” Kara catches the fabric of her sleeve between two fingers and gives it an idle sort of rub before grinning. “That’s still the coolest thing ever.”

“Bulletproof business formal.” Lena grins right back because it is actually pretty cool; not to mention a very useful thing for her to have access to, considering. “Definitely one of your better ideas.”

“Winn did the work,” is the familiar answer, and Lena narrows her eyes because she is going to get this woman to accept the credit she deserves if it takes her a lifetime. “His past life as a theater nerd has all sorts of uses.”

“What makes you think it qualifies as a past life?” They’re moving now, across the living room and through the open bedroom door; Lena guiding them with her finger resting over Kara’s sternum, and Kara peacefully floating along in front of her. “I still haven’t gotten him to talk about what he gets up to outside the DEO and our usual group.”

“Good point.” About two inches shy of bumping into the ensuite door, Kara once again becomes an immovable object. “You think we should get him drunk?”

Lena snorts. “Not unless you want another impassioned rendition of the Time Warp,” she points out wryly, and smiles at the laugh it earns her. “Shower.”

“Yes, dear.” Kara ducks her head enough to steal a kiss - if one can call robbing the willing ‘stealing’ - and Lena follows her into the bathroom; starting on her own haplessly delayed nighttime routine while Kara deposits her supersuit into one of the two laundry baskets before ducking into the shower.

Lena’s blazer and skirt - both of which do, in fact, look rather like the skin of a zebra who had a particularly trying day - go into the same basket, and she washes her hands before pushing up the sleeves of her silk shirt so that, at least, can be cleaned in a more average manner.

“Kara?” She doesn’t raise her voice while tying her hair back in a loose tail, but the idle humming pauses anyway. “When was my next meeting at the DEO?”

“Wednesday,” is the immediate answer over the sound of the spray, and Lena mms in response since she’s now wiping the makeup from her face and anything else would be mostly unintelligible, anyway. “But Alex and Maggie are coming over the day af-- well, tomorrow now, I guess, and if all else fails, I’ll just take our stuff in when I get the chance.”

“Thank you, darling,” Lena calls sing-song as she leans closer to the mirror to get the last bits of eyeliner cleared away, and smiles at the audible chuckle.

“You’re welcome.” The reply comes in much the same manner, but sounds less muffled than before since Kara’s now once more blonde head is poking around the edge of the curtain. “There’s room in here for two, y’know.”

Since the layout and design of basically the entire apartment was altered to best fit the two of them while the building was little more than a steel outline, Lena does indeed know that much. “Don’t tempt me,” she scolds - though not with any real feeling to it - and meets Kara’s pout with a hiked eyebrow of her own. “I won’t last five minutes in there with you and your charms.”

Kara gives her a long, slow, head-to-toe-and-all-the-way-back-up look and grins. “I fail to see the problem.”

Thus invited, Lena gives herself a once-over. In hose and a shirt that hangs to about mid-thigh, with her hair a wind-blown mess masquerading as a ponytail and her face wiped clean, she can hardly claim to be looking anything even remotely resembling her best. Kara, however - going by the gentle heat in her gaze - clearly disagrees.

So she crosses over to the shower and steals the kiss back, though Kara meets her halfway and again, taking what’s freely offered can hardly be considered theft.

“You are insanely good for my ego,” she murmurs there - close enough for their lips to brush - and inhales the fresh, familiar scents of Kara’s choice in shower products while brushing back a few strands of waterlogged hair. “And I’m still not convinced I can’t bottle that look of yours somehow.”

A soft chuckle brushes warmly against her face. “Far be it from me to underestimate the capabilities of Lena Luthor,” is Kara’s agreeable reply. “Or Kim Possible.”

Well, she could have worse code names.

“You’re sweet.” Lena cranes her head for another light kiss because she’s yet to get enough of this woman. “Possibly a little deluded, but you’re sweet. Right now, however, those capabilities are limited to getting myself into bed before I fall over.”

“Okay.” Kara noses her and smiles. “Milk with honey first, maybe? Your voice is doing the scratchy thing again.”

“Mm.” She regretfully steps back, and spends a few seconds taking her hair back down and combing it into at least some semblance of order. “Too much coffee and not enough sleep. We can’t all be solar-powered superhumans.”

“True.” The answer comes through clearly even though Kara has retreated back under the spray. “Some of us have to live with being philanthropist super geniuses instead.”

Then she starts singing It's A Hard-Knock Life, and Lena has to bite down on her toothbrush to keep from bursting into exhausted giggles.

“You're a dork,” she calls over the little impromptu soundtrack once she has rinsed her mouth out, and hears Kara's laugh follow her to the door.

“You love it!”

She absolutely does, and Lena closes the door behind her with the sort of smile that - in her experience - wouldn’t leave her face for half an hour even if she was at her crankiest, moodiest self. Since she’s merely tired and dealing with a mild amount of acid reflux from way too much caffeine, she figures the smile would run her until noon at least, if she had to stay awake that long.

That thankfully isn’t the case. In fact - with it being Saturday and barring any emergencies - neither of them have any plans other than lazing around, and possibly getting out of bed at some indeterminate ‘later’. So all she really needs to do for now is to change into something more fit for sleeping, and ideally drag herself into the kitchen to secure a tall glass of warm milk for her throat.

Sitting down on the bed in the process of pulling off her pantyhose proves to be a bad idea. The mattress is sinfully soft and tempting - the closest they’d get to sleeping on an actual cloud, Kara had decided at the store, and… well, she’d know - so while Lena manages to tug off the hose and also extract her bra from the confines of her shirt, that’s about as far as she gets before the cool sheets and the gentle warmth of the morning sunlight at her back prove to be too much to resist.

She can close her eyes for ten minutes.

Just until Kara gets out of the shower.


She isn’t sure what first starts the process of pulling her from a sound sleep. It could be the dip in the mattress a foot or so in front of her, the low, near-inaudible sound of someone else’s breathing, the faint hint of a familiar scent tickling at her nose, or the careful trace of fingers over the back of her hand.

Either way, it works, and Lena blinks her eyes open; the movement feeling sluggish from the get-go and only growing more so under the half-light coming from the hallway.

“Hey.” Her voice is thick with sleep and clearing her throat doesn’t help much, but she finds the hand in spite of it pulling back, and catches it with her own. “Nice to know you can use actual front doors.”

“Having a key helps.” Kara sounds a good deal more alert than her, but of course she’s also sitting up and probably hasn’t slept yet at all. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“‘S fine.” Lena reaches behind her; groping around blindly until she identifies her bedside lamp and the room is bathed in a soft, golden glow that shows as a faint red behind her closed eyelids. “Snoring isn’t a preferred characteristic of the ideal hostess, or so I’m told.”

“... you are disturbingly eloquent when you’re half-asleep, you know that?”

“Not half-asleep,” she grumbles; scooting back and lifting the edge of the covers in invitation. “Wide awake. C’mere.”

Kara needs no further prompting; sliding easily into place to add the warmth of her body to what’s already collected beneath the duvet, and her arms curl around Lena’s waist and tighten until their legs are twining, too. She’s already changed, Lena notices without even needing to look; feeling the softness of well-worn cotton under her hands when Kara’s head tucks under her chin, and the slight tickle of flannel against the bare skin of her own legs.

“You don’t snore.”

Lena chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re a terrible liar,” she murmurs; stroking the warm back under her hands and feeling the contented sigh against her sternum. “I tried recording myself once to see if I talked in my sleep,” she then admits; casting a lazy glance across the expanse of the bed to the softly glowing numbers of the clock on the opposite side. “I don’t, apparently, but I do snore. I’m just glad it’s not enough to wake the dead.”

“Nowhere near.” Kara smiles against the base of her throat, and her thumb is rubbing idle circles over the curve of Lena’s hip. “It’s this… tiny little almost burbling sound. It’s cute.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She feels more than hears the low hum when she slips her fingers into the golden hair; tugging gently and moving back herself the little bit it takes for her lips to press against Kara’s forehead and linger. “Wanna tell me what made you decide to drop by at 2 AM?”

The thumb stills, and one very blue eye pops open to regard her. “You’re still sure that’s okay?”

“I’m sure.” Lena finds the frozen hand on her hip, and guides it onto her thigh where it relaxes enough to slip under the edge of her slip. “You’re always welcome; I promise. I’m just curious."

Which is true. She has a few theories of her own, of course - mostly based on the slight, additional heat to Kara’s skin and the faint hint of tension in the lines of her body - but she prefers to know rather than assume.

“Well…” Kara sighs again, though this time the sound is more one of annoyance. “There was another alien situation…”

And Lena listens to her; how she was halfway through saying goodnight to Alex when the call came in, and how the fight itself was tougher than expected and left her feeling on edge even after it was over. Aside from that, she watches and feels and interprets; the furrow in Kara’s brow that isn’t quite a crinkle, the way her fingers flex against Lena’s skin and how her voice catches ever so slightly whenever Lena’s fingers graze the back of her neck.

She remembers - in part from past conversations and in part from seeing it herself - how particularly tense situations tend to leave Kara buzzing with adrenaline. She remembers watching Kara release some of that excess energy through a variety of means; from physically exerting herself until it runs out, to pinning Lena against the nearest flat surface and kissing her until the careful press of Kara’s body is the only thing keeping her upright.

More than kissing her, if the location is private enough, but never, ever without checking with her that that’s okay. And tonight? Tonight Kara found her asleep, and where she normally goes completely limp against Lena when they curl up together, tonight she’s practically thrumming with energy in her arms.

So yes, Lena has an idea or two.

“Hey.” She scoots down enough for them to be face to face when the story ends, and hears Kara’s breath leave her lungs in a shaky whoosh when their bodies brush with the motion. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” is the simple answer, and God, that look never fails to hit her right in the gut. “But it was late and you were asleep and we--” The hand on her back twitches again. “We’ve never really talked about whether or not you’re comfortable with--”

“-- you waking me up like that?” She waits for Kara to nod, and feels her shiver when she traces a single finger along the side of her throat. “Well…” A kiss; slow, and so soft that it’s more their lips catching than anything else. “I’m awake now.”

The narrow, somewhat calculating look doesn’t surprise her one bit. Kara is too considerate for her own good sometimes.

“And you’re absolutely sure you’re not too tired?”

Lena kisses her again; deeper this time. Enough for her to taste not only the faint hint of sugar, but also the half-choked whimper that emerges when she presses closer and Kara’s hips cant sharply in response. She’s practically vibrating now; trembling from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and when Lena leaves light, little bites along the line of her jaw, her breathing stutters three times in a row.


“Do you want me?” she murmurs - right against the spot behind the curve of Kara’s jaw - and lingers there until she hears the breathless ‘yes’ and feels the faint pressure of nails against her skin. Only then does she pull back enough to let their noses brush; enough to see lidded, dark eyes and flushed cheeks, and to feel the rush of a hard exhale against her own mouth when she tucks a small handful of golden hair back and her fingers trace the shell of an ear. “In what way?”

She has all the warning of Kara’s nostrils flaring before the world tilts on its axis, and while suddenly looking up into those burning eyes - not to mention feeling the sheer power this woman can wield - never fails to make her breathing catch, this time it also makes her grin. “Guess that answers that question.”

“Sorry.” Kara’s flush deepens visibly. “I didn’t mean to--”

Lena stops her with a single finger. “That wasn’t a complaint,” she points out, just for good measure. “At this point, I think there are some things that you’re allowed to make assumptions about.” She catches Kara’s hair in one hand; shifting it over her opposite shoulder so she can better make out her face in the lamplight. “Such as the fact that where you’re concerned, I am always a sure thing.”

“Always, huh?” Kara smirks - preens, really - and it’d be a near-insufferably arrogant look on her if it wasn’t so damned cute.

“Basically.” She smiles as she curls a hand around the back of Kara’s neck, and the familiar weight when she pulls her down completely is enough to make her breathing grow shallow. “Fair warning, though; I’m probably sensitive.”

“Yeah?” That has Kara shifting onto her elbows in less time than it takes for Lena to blink, and she can practically see the calculations taking place behind those eyes. “Ooh, right. You’re what, five days out?”

“Something like that.” Probably closer to four, going by how much the touch that cradles her hip is already impeding her thought process. “So just--”

“-- be careful. I know.” The kiss is almost achingly gentle this time, as is the hand that slides up to curl around the lower edge of her ribs. “Are you--”

Lena sighs. “Kara Zor-El, if you ask me one more time if I’m su--”

“-- comfortable?” There’s a definite twinkle in those eyes now, and Lena feels the heat crawl up her neck in response. “I’m not too heavy?”

“No.” As always, she melts like ice in the summer heat under that look, and gives the back of the blonde head an apologetic little scratch. “In fact, I’d call you almost infuriatingly perfect.”

“Uh-huh.” A smile as the hand slips back down, and the trace of nails along the back of her thigh when Kara lifts her knee is enough to make her shiver. “Just so you know? You’re three days out.”

A soft scoff, and a tighter curl of her arms around Kara’s shoulders. “I really don’t think it’s in either of our best interests for you to call me testy right now.”

Even if she’s probably right, and even if Lena loves how Kara sometimes knows her better than she knows herself. But Kara is kissing her - long and soft and just bordering on lazy - and that makes up for a lot of sins, including the twitch of a smile and the whispered ‘yes, ma’am’.

Lena is right too, though; she is exceedingly sensitive. Even the lightest of touches are almost electric, so when a thigh slips between her own and there’s a warm hand gliding over the skin of her waist, it’s all she can do to remember how to breathe. Kara’s back and arms are shifting way too smoothly under her fingers for coherent thought to be an option, and when the touch to her own skin roams high enough to trace the underside of her breast, the sound that escapes her is low and guttural and makes Kara’s teeth graze the side of her neck.

“Want this off?” Kara murmurs; brushing her mouth over Lena's pulse point as she plucks at the slip, and oh, Lena definitely likes her voice like this; all low and rough and tight around the edges.

“In the worst way.” She lifts up when Kara does and raises her arms to help, and when she settles back against the pillows, that's one less layer between them and even Kara's t-shirt feels almost coarse against her overheated skin.

Kara, however, is soft. Soft skin over solid muscle, soft touches, soft lips, and soft, silky hair that Lena buries her hands in; exhaling shakily against Kara's mouth and curling one leg around her when she presses closer.

“One more thing?” Her fingers slip under the cotton collar to find the top of Kara's spine, and she can feel the faint shift of steel when the blonde head cants in question. “Don't tease.”

“Okay.” There's the lightest, sweetest brush of lips against her own - smiling ones, which makes her smile, too - and the contact stays like that just long enough for her to pull in the air to repeat herself.

Then Kara’s hands grip her hips while that lean, solid thigh presses and slides, and it’s a sudden, staggering surge of sensation that makes the words flee her head until all she can do is clench her hands in smooth, skin-warmed cotton and arch.

“Off,” she gasps as she pulls at the innocuous t-shirt like it personally offended her, and superspeed comes in very handy right now because Lena feels like she’s shed her outermost three layers of skin, and is not in a patient sort of mood.

The touch of Kara’s skin is a balm all it’s own, though - almost unnaturally soft and warm like summer sunlight - and Lena sighs into her mouth when their bodies meet; splays her fingers over the backs of those powerful shoulders for the sheer pleasure of feeling them shift under her touch, and her spine curves in instinctive reaction when a return touch traces the dip along her collarbone.

It’s almost sinful, what Kara can do to her. The sounds she can coax from her throat; from slow sighs to breathless moans, to low groans when she’s feeling particularly, playfully experimentative and wants to test the limits of either Lena’s stamina or patience; whatever gives first. No matter what, she is always, always attentive; considerate to the point of reverence, and so completely attuned to every signal - verbal or not - that Lena knows without question that whatever she needs, she’ll get it.

Kara has learned her so well by now that she often doesn’t even need to ask (though she still will if she has the slightest doubt, just to make sure). She knows what it means when Lena’s fingers curl into her hair and clench, or when the leg she’s got wrapped around her tightens. She knows - it seems - how to translate every shuddering gasp and half-choked sound; every heated exhale against the crown of her head.

So when Lena pulls her up and kisses her, that’s when Kara’s lifts just enough; that’s when the warmth of that hand slips over her belly - nails light against her skin until her shoulders are pressing into the bed - and then dips between her thighs. It’s light - almost too light, because Kara always listens - but it’s still enough to make her keen into Kara’s mouth; to make her grip the back of Kara’s head like that hold is the only thing anchoring her to reality.

It might be. God knows that her mind has long since blocked out everything that isn’t those lips or that touch or those eyes; burning into her own with enough intensity for them to be all but glowing when Kara’s fingers press up and Lena’s throat clenches around a hard breath.

She couldn’t look away if she wanted to. The blue of Kara’s eyes - near-violet in the golden light - is all she can see, and when there’s the slow, sure circling of a careful thumb, her entire body stutters and cants and presses because there is no such thing as close enough. She grasps at any and every inch of Kara that she can reach - back, shoulders, hair, jaw - while the coil low in her gut winds impossibly tighter, and she can’t breathe or think or speak or do anything other than feel .

The way the slow, steady stroke of Kara’s touch makes her breath come in ragged, gasping bursts that leave her unable to meet that warm mouth for more than half a second at a time. The way the look in those eyes makes her entire body heat and buzz and burn until even the whisper-soft caress of Kara’s breathing is enough to make her whimper. The way a hand slips behind her head to cradle the back of her skull, the way those gentle, powerful fingers twist and curl while Kara’s forehead comes to rest against her own, and the way the white-hot pressure surging through her veins just builds and builds and builds until it finally snaps.

Some kind of sound leaves her - something raw and hoarse and probably nonsensical that somehow manages to scrape past the tightness of her throat - but Lena has no idea what it is. All she knows is the rush of pleasure that starts at the base of her spine and expands outwards in a flash that reaches from the tips of her toes to the top of her head; that makes her heels press into the mattress and the back of her head dig into the pillow while Kara’s mouth finds the spot on her throat where her roaring heartbeat thrums against her skin.

It’s a long, timeless moment that probably only lasts a few seconds at most, and Lena draws in brief, shaking breaths at it ebbs; loosening her vice-like grip on Kara’s shoulders and sliding twin, trembling touches over warm skin.

“I can feel you smiling, you know.”

“I know.” Kara doesn’t seem to take any offence at the teasing note to her voice; at least not going by how the smile stays, and now brushes against her sternum. “I have a lot to smile about.”

“Do you, now?” She combs her fingers through that soft hair, and feels the prickle of a slow shiver working its way up the length of her spine when the tip of Kara’s tongue presses against the valley between her breasts.

“Mmhm.” There’s the slow trace of a warm palm up her side. There is also a hand sliding over the back of her thigh as Kara shifts lower, and the light drag of her abdomen against the apex of Lena’s legs is almost too much.

“Easy,” she breathes - hisses, almost, with how she has to push the word from between clenched teeth - and feels her hand flex enough for her fingers to press into Kara’s back. “I’m not sure I--”

Kara halts mid-motion; placing one more kiss to the skin above her navel before lifting her head and meeting her eyes. “Is that an ‘I need a minute’ kind of not being sure?” Both of her arms hook under Lena’s thighs now, and there are fingers curling around her hips and the light, lazy strokes of gentle thumbs. “Or is it more of a ‘continue, but I might change my mind’ kind?”

Lena chuckles. “The last one,” she decides after a moment of consideration; tracing a touch along the edge of Kara’s jaw and feeling her lips purse when her thumb passes over them.

Her words have a near-instant effect on the energy Kara exudes; changing the air around her from that of gentle, patient curiosity to potent, naked want at the flick of a wrist, and Lena distractedly remembers a half-formed theory of hers: that Kara could quite possibly push her all the way to orgasm simply by looking at her like that.

Whether that’s something she should share… Well, maybe not right now. Mostly because Kara’s immediate reaction to that theory will undoubtedly be to test it.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” comes the husky murmur - below her navel this time - and while Lena takes a breath to provide some kind of agreement, the only sound that ends up escaping her is one that’s high-pitched and drawn out and pretty much all air.

The press of Kara’s mouth is still light. However, it is also hot with determination and at the same time almost cool in contrast; careful, but as firm and unyielding as the arm that curls around her hips when she bucks in helpless reaction. Slow and gentle but driven by single-minded purpose, and it’s all Lena can do to claw at the sheets and bite her own lip as the swear catches in her throat and instead becomes a choked, almost-sob.

It takes a pathetically short time, honestly; probably not even a minute. But Lena’s entire body is sparking like a live wire and Kara knows every. single. trick - from using even that slight hint of her strength to the press of a thumb into the hollow of her hipbone - and the fact that Lena can let herself be this willingly, desperately powerless in front of her only makes her vision flash white that much sooner.

“I’ve got you,” Kara promises - low and soft and somehow by her ear, now - and Lena wonders fuzzily if she knows just how true that is. “I’ve got you.”

“I have the strangest urge to say thank you,” she mumbles against a patch of smooth skin when she comes back to herself enough for coherent speech to be possible, and feels the snicker before she hears it.

“No need.” There’s the press of a smile to her temple, and the soothing trace of fingers along her spine. “Believe me, the pleasure was all mine.”

“I know for a fact that that’s not true.” Kara’s chest stutters around another laugh, and Lena places a kiss to the crook of her shoulder. “Feeling better?”

“Duh.” The hold around her tightens affectionately. “I'm with you.”

“Sweet talker.” Lena nuzzles the side of her throat now; feels the dip of Kara’s spine under the palm of her hand, and the soft, slightly fuzzy material of the flannel bottoms against the outside of her little finger. “Want me to return the favor?”

She asks because sometimes the answer is no. Right now, however, the reply is a low hum.

“I could probably be convinced,” Kara murmurs; her breathing rippling gently when Lena - who is absolutely not smirking, thank you very much - slips her fingers below the waistband to stroke the skin there.

“Hmm.” Her mouth finds Kara’s pulse point, and she gives it a lazy suckle until she can feel the individual flutters of that powerful heartbeat against her tongue. “I think convincing you would probably be easier if you took these--” Her fingers give the elastic a smart, little snap. “-- off.”


“Uh huh.” The rake of her nails over Kara’s lower back earns her a hissed, drawn-out breath, and there’s a split second where Kara is there, then gone, then there again, and Lena lets her hand slip low enough to feel the curve of a naked hip before grinning. “Eager.”

The answer is the slide of long fingers into her hair and a tug until they’re kissing, and Lena smiles into the contact; pushing herself up and forward until Kara drops onto her back. Everything is an almost intoxicating glide of skin against skin, then, and while Kara may indeed be the Girl of Steel, there is nothing cold or unyielding about her like this.

In fact, her skin is the silkiest, warmest surface Lena has ever had the pleasure of touching, and she takes every care in the world to thoroughly enjoy this latest chance; to trace the faint grooves of Kara’s ribs with the tips of her fingers, to taste the tendons in her neck and shoulders when Kara’s head drops back, and definitely to marvel at the slick heat that meets her thigh when Kara’s part below it.

“I say again,” she purrs against a flushed ear, and hears Kara’s breathing hitch. “Eager.”

“Have you seen yourself?” is the somewhat winded answer to that; Kara’s voice catching mid-word when Lena gives the curve of her jaw a gentle bite. “Especially when you’re-- wow, Lena.”

“When I’m underneath you like that?” She doesn’t move her mouth - not much - because just as Kara knows every trick that works for her, she’s picked up a few of her own. Her favorite of them is the fact that Kara is exquisitely sensitive to the sound of her voice, and even this small dose is enough to have Kara shuddering against her; one hand clenching in Lena’s hair, and the other grabbing for the headboard although she hasn’t needed to do that for a while.

“Y-- essss.” The hiss comes when she bites at the nearby earlobe. “You look so, so…”

“Wanting?” Her hips rolls slowly in exchange for a low, strangled noise, and she traces feather-light, lingering touches from Kara’s collarbones to her hips. “Yours?”

Kara seems to all but choke on air at the second option, and Lena smiles against the shell of her ear; feels the subtle, almost-hum in the warm skin under her hands, and the way her own heart stutters when her fingers slip low enough to be coated immediately while Kara’s chest strains for the ceiling.

“I am, you know,” she murmurs as she explores lazily; giving the spot behind Kara’s earlobe a curious little suckle and hearing her voice break halfway through a strained whimper. “So for future reference? You, my darling, can wake me up any time you like--” Her fingers slip lower and dip in, and the hand Kara’s got wrapped around the headboard clenches hard enough for every muscle and tendon in her arm to stand out in vivid relief. “-- in any way you like.”

“Yeah?” Kara is essentially trembling from head to toe, and Lena lets herself be tugged back enough for their eyes to meet and marvels at the fact that she’s still keeping up with what’s being said; let alone managing to respond. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” she promises - right into those hazy, beautiful eyes - and lets their lips brush while her fingers twist just so she can taste the sharp breath on her own tongue. “I feel so, so safe with you.” Deeper, now, and those long lashes are fluttering like Kara is struggling to even keep her eyes open. “I feel loved.”

“You are,” Kara gasps - low and rough and tight around what sounds like a lump halfway down her throat - and loses the battle with her eyelids when Lena presses down with her palm. “You-- Rao, Lena you are. So much, so--”

And it’s not like she didn’t know - not where it matters - that Kara loves her. But it’s something they’ve both shown with actions rather than spoken with words, so hearing it is still enough to make her eyes burn and her heart stutter, and enough for her to almost forget anything that isn’t the almost painful swell in her chest or the absolute vision in front of her.

“I love you, too,” she whispers against one flushed cheek as she crooks her fingers, and Kara - who reacts to everything with twice the intensity when emotion is involved - absolutely shatters in her arms.

The hand against Lena’s back jerks up to clench into a fist before the arm it’s attached to curls around her with almost enough strength to bruise, and under the power of Kara’s other hand, the headboard gives a low, elongated whine that’s almost - almost - drowned out by the long, shuddering keen that Kara tries to muffle against Lena’s shoulder.

Lena just says it over and over again; softly, tenderly and honestly. She kisses her temple and her hair and the shell of her ear, and - when Kara’s body twitches one last time and then slowly starts to relax - carefully slips her other hand free so she can hold her close and stroke her back as she comes down.

Kara’s hands are shaking as badly as her breathing, but both steady as Lena moves onto her back and tugs until Kara can curl into her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” The answer is barely more than a breath, but Kara nods against her chest and slowly relaxes. “Please tell me I didn’t break anything.”

Lena sends the headboard a brief glance, and chuckles. “You didn’t,” she promises, and it’s technically true.

There must be something in her voice that Kara is picking up on, because she lifts up and lies back until she can see for herself.

And sputters. “That totally counts as breaking something!”

“Oh, it does not.”

“Lena!” Mostly, Kara sounds annoyed to be the only one finding any cause for concern in the situation. “I broke your alloy.”

Annoyed but also genuinely upset with herself, so Lena catches her hand and threads their fingers because the absolute last thing she wants is for her to feel guilty.

“You only bent it,” is her soothing correction when she follows Kara's gaze and strokes the back of her hand with her thumb; studying the slight but definite down-and-a-little-out curve of the headboard's topmost section, as well as the clearly defined grooves where the fingers that now rest between her own were curled around it, not that long ago.


“I like it,” she muses once they've laid like that for a few minutes – on their backs, shoulder to shoulder – and cranes her head around until she can study the familiar profile. “Adds charm and tells a story.”

Kara whips onto her side so fast that the resulting gust of air almost blows the sheets off the bed, and her glare would honestly be pretty intimidating if the blush suffusing her cheeks wasn't also rapidly extending down her chest. “Lena Luthor, if this is you being smug...”

And Lena only barely manages to restrain herself to a smirk, because it absolutely is.