“You do something wrong once and no one lets you live it down.”
The words are whispered in her ear and Kara wants to scoop them up and watch them trickle through her fingers. They feel fine, like grains of sand beaten on the beach forever and she isn’t sure she entirely understands which wrong thing Lena is talking about. Kara’s hands are on her hips and she’s standing at the giant glass window in Lena’s office, staring at the night that’s long taken over the sky.
Kara swallows, and tries to remember she’s in her Supergirl outfit. She isn’t Kara Danvers right now. She can’t let herself fall to pieces because a pretty girl is whispering broken phrases in her ear.
“But you did the right thing. In the end.” Kara manages to coat the words in that strength she can drag up, but only when she has the ‘S’ on her chest. The closest she comes to her real voice is when it’s just her and Alex. But lately, she’s slipped, and that tone has carried itself when Lena looks at her from under her lashes.
Or when she bites her lip.
It’s usually accompanied by a swoop, low in Kara’s stomach, that leaves a warmth behind it.
Lena is still standing too close, her chest just brushing Kara’s back, looking over her shoulder to stare at the same skyline as Kara. Too close. Much too close. Kara’s head spins and she sometimes forgets to breathe. The softness is intoxicating.
“This time,” Lena says. And there’s something in her tone that leaves Kara aching. The urge to turn and push Lena backwards into that ridiculous desk she likes to lean on rises up. To press their lips together and piece Lena back together with her tongue. Because she saw that shattered look on Lena’s face. The one that was so subtle, so brief, Kara had wondered if she’d imagined it in the first place, as her mother was escorted into the back of a police car Lena herself had called.
But she can hear it in Lena’s voice now.
Something cracked open. The unsure tone in it, about what she’d done to her mother.
“And you will the next time.” Kara’s an idiot, because she’s let her voice fall, soften. The way the words roll past her tongue is too intimate.
“You’re so sure of that?” Lena’s voice whispers against the back of her neck and Kara closes her eyes.
Then she turns, her arms crossed, and they’re almost nose to nose. Lena’s eyes are a startling green, and they widen at Kara’s fast movement, too fast for her to catch. Kara can hear the way her heart speeds up, a staccato in her chest. It’s distracting.
And Kara really is an idiot, because she means those words. And for what she does next.
Lena is looking at her with a fragile look in her eyes that Kara would never have thought she’d see. Lena is supposed to be anything but fragile. Rather than make her less, it somehow makes her more and Kara’s hands come up, as if on their own accord, and the voice in the back of her head falls silent as her fingers cup soft cheeks and tug them both together.
It was meant to be gentle. But instead it’s hungry, and Lena doesn’t even hesitate. She pushes back, her lips eager and insistent and Kara doesn’t think she’s ever been kissed like this. With desperation on the other person’s tongue and a gasp that’s hers to swallow. It only takes three stumbling steps until Lena’s half sitting on the edge of the desk, nails clinging to Kara’s back. There’s a hand in her hair and when Lena’s fingers tug, Kara’s head falls back as she gasps, the hitch in her breath only worsening as lips brush her neck.
Lena kisses like it’s her last. Like it’s her everything. Like the entire world is built on that moment and Kara doesn’t think she ever wants her to stop.
Teeth scrape her jaw, deliciously hard, and Lena’s tongue soothes it, then she gasps the word, her voice so hoarse Kara throbs with it, “Kara.”
It takes a second.
A long one.
Before Kara stumbles backwards, cold air where before everything had been warm, and stares at Lena, half sprawled on her desk, in a way Kara had thought of more than she’d like to admit.
She’d said Kara. Not Supergirl.
Kara’s heart is pounding against her ribs and Lena’s lips are swollen, kissed red, her hair falling out of its perfect up-do.
Panic is bounding in Kara’s veins and even as Lena raises a hand and tries to sit up, Kara is out the window and flying away, the air cold on her cheeks and a throb still low in her stomach.