it trembles, but never fades away
Kara can feel nothing.
Nothing but Lena’s shaking body.
She can feel the compression and rarefaction of air particles between their bodies. Bouncing around the gap between them, as Lena trembles.
They’re on Kara’s couch, figures in a film moving, listlessly, across the screen in front of them. This is the first time Lena has been to Kara’s apartment for a justfriendswatchingamovie night. Lena had been smiling when she arrived, and she had pulled off her heels before Kara had hugged her in the doorway and led her over to the sofa. Excitedly pressing a bowl of popcorn to Lena’s chest and pressing play on the TV remote.
And now they’re ten minutes in to a film. And the popcorn lies forgotten on the coffee table. And Kara can’t concentrate. On the screen there’s a panning, overwhelmingly blue, shot of a deserted moor. A voiceover murmurs about passion, and solitude.
Kara screws her hands together, nervously in her lap. Her fingertips feel a little blue too.
She chances a glance at the woman beside her.
Lena’s green, green, green, eyes are glassy, dull.
Her back is straight, her knees pressed together.
Kara can still feel her shaking.
She tries to focus on the screen. A girl, with dark windswept hair, runs across that moor. Her eyes are wild like those of a hunted animal.
She glances back to Lena.
The same expression bounces back from Lena’s endlessly green eyes.
She leans a fraction closer to Lena. Wanting to offer comfort, but not sure how. Not understanding the waves of distress and tension rolling from Lena’s body in waves, but wanting to help. Do something, anything.
She moves closer still. Almost touching.
And the next second, the trembling just overwhelms her. She can acutely hear the sound of Lena’s skin brushing against her clothes. The very image of Lena blurs around every edge, Kara’s vision picking up on Lena’s movement with painful clarity.
She hears Lena take a shaking breath. Attempting to collect herself.
Something hard in Kara’s chest breaks apart, sending hot splinters spinning into her lungs. And she suddenly feels as though she has done something desperately wrong.
“Um, Lena?” she breathes. And maybe Lena has superhearing too, because Kara barely felt her own lips move over the words, yet Lena’s head whipped around as though Kara had screamed at her.
She realises that there are tears in Lena’s wild eyes, hanging precariously to her bottom line of lashes. Dark clouds and dark lashes. Heavy, saturated. Wet.
As she watches, one falls, curving over Lena’s cheek.
“Oh” Kara breathes. Softly. She watches as Lena’s eyebrows draw together, and her bottom lip trembles uncontrollably. Kara feels like crying too now.
“What’s wrong Lena?” Kara’s voice is impossibly quiet. Another tear falls, and Kara watches it follow the path of the first.
“Can I…Can we-” Lena’s voice falls apart here. Tumbling away. She clears her throat a little, tilts her chin up. “Youhuggedme.”
It comes out as one word, three short syllables smashed together. The back of her throat sounds oddly wet too.
Kara blinks at her.
“Yes, I did.”
“I don’t remember the last time…I mean…nobody…” Lena’s shoulders are heaving now, with the exertion of holding back her tears, which still well threateningly in her reddened eyes. Her voice is small. Almost frightened. Kara is frightened. Whatever is overwhelming Lena like this, brave, beautiful, strong Lena, must be terrifying.
Her own, blue-fingertipped, hands clutch at the soft pastel material of her sleeves.
She feels, rather than hears, Lena exhale. That soft push of air feels warm in the space between them.
And then she feels, rather than hears, Lena start to sob.
Feels the changes in the air between them.
The tears, which were hanging low in her reddened eyes, start to stream down her pale cheeks. Lena’s breathing tears painfully in the back of her throat.
But she cries silently. Tears simply pouring, seemingly endlessly, from her eyes.
Still silently, instinctively, she pulls Lena close to her, cradling her head against her chest. She wraps her arm around one shoulder and just holds Lena. She holds the shaking pieces of a fearless, relentless CEO. Holds her soft. Holds her safe. As she cries her eyes out against quiet Kara Danver’s pastel sweater.
Kara’s heart races so fast it threatens to beat out of her chest.
“Oh K-Kara” Lena whispers as her tears finally subside. Kara goes to move away, and as Lena grasps desperately at Kara’s hand, her knuckles are white. “D-don’t, please-”
“I’m not going anywhere Lena. I promise-”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I just, I just, um, realised,” Lena’s sweeping her dark hair away from her eyes, in a soft, nervous movement. “I just realised nobody had ever, um, you know-”
“Invited you over for a movie?” Kara murmurs, lost.
“Nobody has ever.” she breathes in, and exhales too quickly. Her eyes flicker shut. “Nobody has held me like that. Earlier, when you hugged me, I don’t know if…I’m not sure if that’s happened before. And I didn’t know…I felt so…”
Kara feels as though maybe her heart has stopped all together.
“Nobody has ever hugged you?” she whispers. Or maybe her heart is just thrumming so fast she can no longer feel its pulse.
“Nobody has ever held me like that.” Lena’s looking down at her own hands, nervously twisting them over and over in her lap. As though she’s admitting to something shameful. “I’ve never been-”
“Hugged?” Kara finishes the sentence for her.
“I’m not weak, I’m not soft.” Lena scoffs, tears tumbling over her lips as she raises her chin. A brave attempt at the confidence she normally so easily exudes. “So why would anyone want to? I’m not soft enough. I mean, I’m not…I’m not…enough.”
“Oh…Oh Lena.” Kara breathes. She can smell Lena’s tears, smell Lena’s skin. And every inch of her own flesh crawls to be pressed against Lena. Against this brave, beautiful woman.
So she pulls her against her body once more.
There’s a huff of hot air against Kara’s cheek.
Not a lot of people have touched her gently, Kara thinks, as Lena’s hand moves to brush against her own, nervously. That feels a little like permission to hold her like this, as she listens to Lena’s heart begin to race. She can feel Lena’s body heat. Against her skin. The thought of more body heat, more skin, sends her head spinning.
“Is this okay?” Kara breathes. Or maybe she screams. Because suddenly those words ring around and around and around and around in her head. Around and around in the space between her lips and Lena’s ear.
“Okay…yes…very, very…okay.” The closeness, the contact, seems to have short-circuited Lena’s touch-starved brain. She struggles with her words, her head pressed against Kara’s chest.
“You can tell me, if it’s too much, you know.” Kara whispers. She never wants to speak at full volume again. She wants hushed voices and her soft sofa and Lena Lena Lena Lena Lena Lena.
Lena cuddles closer into her side.
“What if it’s not enough?” Lena sounds like a child. Like a child asking her very first question. Her voice tilts upwards to form the question, but it’s somehow not quite right. A little bit faulty.
Lena’s fingers play with the hem of Kara’s sweater. Tugging. Running her fingertips over the soft material.
And Kara suddenly realises that nobody has ever held Lena. Nobody has ever touched her softly. Lena, who is so, so soft, so gentle. Who, at this moment, is pressed against Kara’s side, like a lost man in the arctic huddling closer for warmth. As though she needs Kara’s touch, or Kara’s body heat, to survive.
Kara realises, slowly, that Lena has been starving to be touched.
She runs her hands through Lena’s soft, soft hair. Every inch of this woman is soft. Warm. Soft and warm and soft and warm. Kara feels a need to be dressed in only her softest sleep shirt, half transparent with age, and surround Lena with a cloud-like duvet and her own arms. She wants Lena in all the softest, warmest of ways.
In which my babies are warm and together.
(I’m writing this slowly. I’m taking my time. Another 1 or 2 chapters to go, I think. Comments make me happy.)
The credits are still rolling, seemingly endlessly, across the TV screen.
And Lena holds Kara’s hand, as they walk together through Kara’s darkened apartment. Kara can hear a sharp inhale as Lena knocks her hip against the corner of the kitchen counter, hard, rather than lose contact with her skin. And so Kara holds on tighter.
With her spare hand, she flicks on her bedroom light, and immediately dims it, bathing the room in a soft, almost golden, light. And only then does she turn to look at Lena.
Her breath is snatched, protesting, from her chest. Because Lena is beautiful. More than beautiful. Stunning, quietly stunning, makeup cried from her face, hair down, slightly tangled by Kara’s fingers as she’d comforted Lena.
Lena’s eyes are trained on the carpet.
“Are you okay?” Kara murmurs.
She reaches out, curling a finger under Lena’s chin and gently, gently, gently, directs Lena’s eyes to meet her own.
They’re still reddened. But dry now. Lena nods, furiously. Kara smooths her hand through Lena’s soft hair.
And Kara has ended wars, brought armies to their knees.
But the hardest challenge she has ever faced?
Resisting the overwhelming urge to press a kiss to Lena’s forehead.
Or to her cheek.
Kara wants to know, desperately, if she could still taste the tang of tears across her soft skin. If she could even feel the rough sting of the salt against her lips.
Kara would like, she thinks, to kiss Lena.
But she can’t, not now not now not now not now.
Not when Lena is scared and still a little unsteady. Not when Lena is looking up at her with those big green eyes, as though Kara had just given her then entire universe by just asking her if she would like to sleep over.
Lena, apparently, would like to sleep over.
Lena Luthor is going to stay the night.
And so instead of pressing a kiss against Lena’s skin, she inhales, sharply.
“I’m going to find you something to sleep in, darling.”
The pet name comes easy, sliding from her tongue. And Kara untangles her hand from around Lena’s, and she watches as Lena’s shoulders sag. She crosses her arms, protectively, over her chest. Hugging herself, tighter, closer.
Kara wonders if Lena finds that comforting.
She wonders how many nights Lena has had to hold herself, hold herself together. Wonders how many nights Lena has cried, alone.
Maybe she doesn’t want to know, not really.
Because Lena stays exactly where Kara left her, hovering nervously in the doorway of the room. Her eyes follow Kara. Her eyes follow Kara as she flits, from closet to drawers to bathroom and back again, bare feet pattering softly against the well-worn floorboards.
She returns to Lena’s side a moment later with an armful of her softest sleepwear, which she presses to Lena’s chest.
“The bathroom is through there, if you want to get changed?”
Lena smiles gratefully, taking the clothes, but doesn’t say anything.
Kara’s heart just hammers, hammers, hammers in her thin ribcage.
“Are you sure about this Lena?”
“I want to stay. If you’ll let me?”
“Of course, anything you want.”
“I’ll…I’ll just get changed.”
Kara just nods, and Lena crosses the bedroom and doesn’t quite close the bathroom door behind herself. A stream of light trickles out across the floorboards. Kara strips, quickly, down to just the cute panties Alex bought her last christmas and skin and skin and skin, and changes into the softest, softest, softest thing she can find. An off-the-shoulder tshirt, translucent with age, and tiny fleece shorts. They smell of fabric softener, and Kara’s own skin. And then Kara sits on the corner of her double bed and watches that thin strip of brighter light pour across her bedroom floor. Watches it change, shifting, as Lena moves around the bathroom.
“Hey” Lena murmurs when she finally appears. Her hair is down, pouring down her back, curling at the ends, curling under her chin to frame her face.
It snatches away Kara’s breath, just how pretty Lena is, in the dimmed lights of her bedroom.
Lena, nervously self-conscious, in Kara’s clothes. Kara’s sleep shirt has long sleeves, which Lena has already tugged down over her hands, and Kara’s shorts. Too tight, too small, clinging to Lena’s curves.
Kara had never really thought about Lena’s body before.
Curving, pouring, into Kara’s clothes.
She’s thought about Lena’s body, in a soft, abstract way. Of course. Lena is beautiful, Lena is beautiful as an objective fact, and as a constant, nagging feeling at the back of her mind. Of course she’s thought about Lena’s body.
Maybe she’d just never though that Lena could look like this.
Lena’s thighs are white. So white. So pale.
God, her skin looks soft.
Kara’s breath catches, too fast, against the back of her throat. Her eyes skim over Lena, as Lena walks towards her.
Soft, soft thighs. Hips. Lena, Lena has hips. Of course Lena has hips. But. Hips. And. And the outline of Lena’s breasts, heavy against the thin fabric of Kara’s sleep shirt.
“Is this okay?” Lena’s looking down at herself. Uncertain.
Kara can’t help herself.
She reaches out, nervous palm against Lena’s waistline.
Lena’s body, she realises, is all smooth, soft lines. The kind of curves that would be intoxicating, if Kara liked girls Like That.
Like girls Like That.
Her hand collides with the curve of Lena’s waist.
She can feel Lena’s blood, rushing, under her skin. Hear it strumming through her veins. Lena steps closer to her, touching Kara’s shoulders gently. She stands between her legs, as Kara sits on the bed, and plays with the neckline of her shirt. Running it softly between her fingers. Running her fingertips along Kara’s collarbones, just ghosting over her skin. And then she steps closer still.
Until Kara’s face, her cheek, is pressed against Lena’s chest.
Kara wraps her arms, more solidly, around Lena’s waist, her hands fisting the soft, soft, soft material of Lena’s shirt as she breathes in the scent of Lena’s skin mixing with her own fabric softener.
She listens to Lena breathing, and thinks about never letting go.
“I didn’t know this would feel…this much. I never thought that I needed to be…touched.” Lena breathes, against Kara’s scalp.
“What do you think now?” Kara asks, quietly. Her lips move against Lena’s soft shirt. Lena squirms a little.
And then Lena is moving in her arms, moving towards the bed, and Kara is scrambling to stand. Scrambling to give Lena more space. Watching from under her eyelashes, shyly, as Lena pulls away, pulls back the corner of the covers, and slips under the sheets.
“I think I like it. I think I like, I don’t know, being like this. With you.”
She lays down, in Kara’s bed. Her dark, dark hair haloes around her face, curling over the pillow. Lena is beautiful. And Kara doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything so vulnerable before. As Lena looks across the bed at her, and then away again. Across the white wasteland of gently rumpled fabric. Duvet twisted into delicate mountain ranges as it covers Lena’s body.
Lena rolls onto her side, and looks at Kara. Who still stands, hesitant, beside the bed. Lena’s green eyes sweep over her figure, and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Are you having second thoughts about taking me to bed?” whispers Lena.
Kara has to concentrate on breathing, and not cracking the floorboards below her feet.
“I’m not, not…bed…I’m not.”
“I know Kara, I’m only teasing.”
There’s something perhaps a little sad painted across Lena’s face as she tries, heroically, at a smile. She pats the clean, straight sheets beside her.
“Are you coming to bed?”
Kara nods, too quickly, too eagerly. She turns, and turns the lights off, pouring dark ink across her bedroom floor.
She realises that she can no longer see colour. No longer see the blush flitting across Lena’s cheeks, nor the rivers of delicate blue flowing through Lena’s green eyes.
But she can hear Lena breathing. Can hear the twin-beat of Lena’s heart, hear that muscle in Lena’s chest contract, expand, force blood around her body. Kara can hear Lena’s pulse.
She can hear Lena’s rushing blood.
She takes a moment to register that Lena is soft, safe under her own duvet.
And then, she slips into bed beside Lena.
Hey, sorry for the delay. This is slightly shorter. One more chapter? Maybe?
Twelve inches of crushed, rumpled sheets between them.
It’s dark in Kara’s bedroom. The darkness somehow makes this feel even more intimate. She can no longer see the colour of Lena’s eyes, just the reflected lights from the street outside. Crashing together in the darkened, glassy surface of Lena’s eyes.
Colourless, monochrome. The soft shape of the sheets draped across Lena’s body cutting through the heat of the darkness. There are ravines, valleys and mountains. Carved from soft cotton sheets. She runs her hand over the bed beside Lena, ironing out the landscape. Lena’s eyes follow her hand, and she wishes that she could know what Lena is thinking.
She glances up.
She can feel Lena’s breath. Hear her heartbeat, slightly elevated.
Lena’s body heat rolls off her skin in waves, and Kara is so, so used to sleeping alone. She’s not sure that she’s shared a bed like this since…ever. This hot space beside her seems to press in on her skin, leaving her mouth parched and her skin buzzing. She’s hyperaware of Lena’s every move. She can hear the sheets rising and falling as Lena breathes, evenly, softly. Lena smells so good. Soft perfume, half worn away, and the faintest hint of shampoo. The scent feels as though it collects at the back of Kara’s throat, until her every breath makes her dizzy. Dizzy, spinning away. Dizzily surrounded by Lena.
There’s a gentle rustle of sheets, soft skin on cotton.
There’s a touch against her forearm.
Kara’s no longer sure if she’s breathing. Maybe she stopped inhaling hours ago, and this is all some half-lucid dream. And then she’s blinking, meeting Lena’s gaze. Oddly intense. Strong, simultaneously cautious and bold, saturated with feeling. She watches as Lena’s wide eyes drop, searching over her face. The movement of the reflected lights in her eyes feels like the most intimate thing Kara’s ever experienced.
She feels Lena’s gaze, like a touch. Like a caress.
And she’s never been touched this softly before.
Lena touches her tongue to the corner of her lips, nervously. She can actually hear Lena’s lips part, sticking together just slightly.
Kara moves a little closer to her.
Lena’s body heat is overwhelming. This is too much, too much, not nearly enough.
Black is not a colour of light, it is absence. Black is the absence or complete absorption of light. And in that hot darkness, Kara thinks that she understands this idea in a new way. Because the space between herself and Lena is not empty. Not void. It’s as though all the colours have come, tangling, together.
“Will…will you…” Lena’s hesitating, just as she has been all night. Lena’s beautiful, in a new way that Kara hadn’t quite realised before, and she is hesitant. Hesitant in all the worst ways.
Kara reaches out, and her fingers, under the covers, bump against the curve of Lena’s waist.
Lena exhales, a soft “oh” slipping past her lips.
“You want to, like, come here?” Kara says, her voice stronger than she feels. “You want to come closer?”
Lena simply blinks for a moment, and then nods. Once. A curl falls across her forehead, bouncing over her face, and Kara’s hand leaves her waist to brush it away. Tuck it behind her ear.
Lena’s heartbeat, which was thrumming along, slightly elevated, is now racing. Faster, faster, faster, faster, as Kara’s fingertips linger against her jawline. She tilts her head, slowly, her eyes meeting Kara’s.
Pupils blown wide, too wide.
Black pupils bleeding, pouring, into her iris. Greyish in the half-light. Kara is suddenly reminded, in a single swift punch to the gut, of the time Alex in college had come home one morning with her pupils wide and her mouth dry. Her heart was racing then, too.
Kara wonders if Lena is feeling that same buzz.
Then Lena is shifting, rolling towards Kara, whose hand falls back once more to her waist. Her back to Kara’s chest, as she shuffles, snuggles, closer.
Not quite touching. Not quite yet.
Kara slides one arm, gently, under her head, and cautiously tightens her grip against her waist. Carefully, pulling her closer, but not too hard.
Testing her strength, flexing her fingertips against Lena’s hipbone. Four pressure points against soft, soft flesh.
She wonders if she could leave marks.
Of course she could.
Lena is not iron, not steel, not cold and strong and brittle. Lena is flesh, soft and pliant and warm and soft and soft, delicate.
She could leave the traces of her touch there, against Lena’s skin. And she would still be able to see her mark there the next morning. Perfect, purpling proof, that they were here, tonight. Proof that they were together. Pressed into her flesh. She could do it, easily.
The thought leaves her head spinning away.
She holds on to Lena tighter, not ready for the sudden rush of blood to her brain. And she expected Lena’s heart rate to increase. Knew that the sudden pounding in her ears would thrum around her head, around her chest. Knew it would leave her dazed, powerless.
But what she did not know, did not expect, was for Lena to arch back into her grip, pressing her ass to Kara’s hips, her breathing stuttering. Falling.
A half-suppressed moan slips from between Lena’s lips, as Kara instantly, instinctively, tightens her grip further. Pulling Lena closer still.
“Yes,” Lena whispers. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Lena reaches, blinding for Kara’s other hand, and brings it down. Pressing her palm against the centre of her chest.
So that Kara’s body is pressed against her own, Kara’s arms encircling her.
And now her breathing is too fast, too much.
Kara can feel the soft, pliant skin of her breasts under the loose fitting shirt. It takes all her concentration to not allow her eyes to flit shut and just feel. Feel everything. Feel Lena’s soft soft soft body and her fast breathing and her fast heart rate and her soft skin and her soft breaths and her body her body her body.
But she doesn’t.
She keeps her eyes open, focusing instead on the way in which Lena’s hair tickled at her chin, at her cheek. The scent of her shampoo.
The scent of Lena’s skin.
The scent of Lena’s skin.
The scent of Lena’s skin.
Raw, soft, buzzing.
She wonders if Lena is turned on.
She wonders if Lena is breathing fast because she wants. Wants her. Wants Kara.
It’s suddenly too hot, too hot, too hot, under those sheets.
“Is this okay, Kara?” Lena whispers. And Kara doesn’t think anyone has ever pronounced her name quite like that before. Quite so softly.
“Yeah, I think, if you’re okay with this?”
She wants to play with Lena’s hair again. Wants to trace the hand now resting on Lena’s hip down, over the curve of her thighs. To see if they’re as soft as they look.
Just to see.
Just to touch.
She would like to touch.
And then Lena is shifting, twisting in her arms. Her ass presses, momentarily back against Kara’s hips, which jerk forwards. Pressing, Lena’s twisting, pressing, too much space, not enough space. Wriggling to face Kara, her hair tumbling down between them, as they’re chest to chest chest to chest chest to chest.
Heat, pressure, heat, hot.
Kara’s opening her mouth to ask Lena if she’s okay. To seek some murmured reassurance.
All at once.
Chapter 4: Chapter 4
Final chapter of this! Thank you so, so much for the comments and the support for this. Go easy on this chapter, I’ve not written anything for such a long time. Also, this is M rated I think. It’s not too explicit, it’s more soft-smut. But if it’s not your thing, please don’t read.
Also, I know I’m not good at keeping to a schedule, or updating, but if anyone out there has any one-shots they’d like me to write, please let me know in the comments and I’ll work on it.
Much love, and thank you for all the love and support on this. I’m going to reply to every single comment, I swear.
Kara has imagined freefall more times than she can count.
She’s imagined stepping from the towering heights of a skyscraper.
She’s imagined how the world would fall away from her, fall past her, as she plummets.
She’s fantasised about the blur, the rush of air past her ears, the rush of blood to her brain. The time stretching away from her before she meets the sidewalk below.
She’s never imagined what the inevitable collision with the earth would feel like.
Mais l'important n'est pas la chute, c'est l'atterrissage.
And kissing Lena Luthor?
Kissing Lena Luthor is exactly like falling, and landing, all at once.
Kissing Lena Luthor is exactly like everything, all at once.
It sends her blood rushing to her head, her ears ringing. She’s spinning, spinning, as everything rushes away from her.
Until nothing’s left.
Just the sound of Lena’s blood racing in her ears. Speeding up, speeding away from her. And Lena’s unsteady, hot breaths. Pressing against her skin.
And yet Lena’s lips are definite, gentle, but definite against her own. As though Lena inexplicably knows what she’s doing in the middle of this airless rush. And Lena is pressing.
Pressing their bodies together. Closer, a needy, half-desperate twist of her body.
Tongue, teeth dragging against her lower lip. Lena’s lips taste of toothpaste and a new, soft colour of desperation.
And hot, heat.
God, it’s hot.
The blurred space between them is filled with their breath. And Kara’s entire world is filled with Lena’s racing, trembling pulse. Echoing, reverberating around her skull. And then there’s a soft, half moan spilling out between them, which, Kara hazily realises, escaped from between her lips.
Lena’s hand meets Kara’s waist, curling into the fabric of her shirt. This movement is somehow softer, somehow more intimate than the press of their lips.
And Lena is pulling away, dripping one chaste kiss against Kara’s lips as she does so. Kara’s hips shift, a little needy, a little greedy, against the sheets. She feels Lena’s hand at her waist tighten, pulling their hips closer together once more.
God, it’s almost enough.
Almost more than she’s ever wanted.
“Is this okay?” Lena breathes.
Kara didn’t know she could feel this good.
Kara didn’t know anything could feel this good.
Burning, hot. Heat licking against her skin.
“Yeah, are you okay?” she whispers. Lena’s nodding, her dark hair falling, cascading over her cheek. And her eyes are greyish in this half-darkness. Pupils blown, bleeding, spilling over into her irises. There’s the blurred threat of a tear there too, refracting a heady cocktail of the cool moonlight and the streetlights outside the window.
“Can I…Can I kiss you again?” Kara breathes. And she watches as that singular tear drops down Lena’s cheek, and she nods.
“Yes, please Kara” and so Kara leans in, to kiss Lena once more. Lena’s whimpering against her lips, opening her mouth, doing something with her tongue that sends a fast shiver shooting down Kara’s side. And Lena pulls her hand from Kara’s waist, up, up, to rest over her heart.
“Your heart is racing” Lena breathes. And Kara pulling away, she’s tilting her head to the side, pressing a singular hot kiss against the burning pulse she can hear trembling against the almost translucently pale skin of Lena’s neck.
Full, hot. Dragged from the back of her throat.
Kara feels Lena’s hips stutter against her own. Feels Lena’s hand tangle in her hair, nails dull against her scalp. Pulling her lips back against her neck.
“Fuck, god, Kara-”
Kara can smell Lena’s arousal. She can almost feel it pressing against the back of her tongue. Hot, heavy. Wet.
So Kara kisses, bites, kisses. Sucks.
Teeth. Lips. Listening to the way Lena’s heart starts to pound against her ribs, and the little moans at the back of her throat scrape against her tongue.
Kara drags her fingertips against the soft, soft, soft, soft skin of Lena’s thigh. Revelling in the intimacy, the touch of Lena’s skin.
And, Kara realises, a little distantly, she’s wet.
Lena’s shifting her hips against Kara’s body, writhing, moaning, head thrown back. Lena’s wet.
She’s turning Lena on.
Lena is turned on. Undoubtably, turned on.
She pulls back, a little dazed. Blinking.
Taking a moment just to feel. To feel Lena’s body, the warm flesh of Lena’s thigh under her palm. Feel the hot air between them move as Lena pants, trying to control her breathing.
“I want, I want-” Lena’s voice is trembling, falling away from her.
Mais l'important n'est pas la chute, c'est l'atterrissage.
And so Kara pulls her back into a kiss. Something solid, grounded.
“I want as well” Kara breathes into Lena’s soft hair.
And then, there’s just this dripping darkness, and Lena pouring her body over Kara’s chest.
She straddles Kara’s hips as though she were made to land there. And Kara’s hands find a new texture of home at the dip of her waist, where her soft sleep shirt has ridden up.
And as Lena leans down to kiss her once more, Kara moans as their chests meet.
“Take it off, take your shirt off” she breathes.
“You too, fuck” Lena murmurs, her voice somewhere hot, stuck between a moan and a half-formed giggle. And there’s a pause, a brief moment of shuffling, as Lena pulls Kara up with a fist in the fabric of her shirt. And there’s hot puffs of laughter and tangles of limbs as they pull off their shirts.
And Kara can’t.
She can’t look.
And then she can’t look enough.
And Lena’s giggling, softly, and then pressing her backwards.
Pressing their bare chests together. Clumsily holding herself up with one elbow as she trails her fingertips over Kara’s nipples.
And every inch of Kara’s flesh is on fire. Burning in time with Lena’s pulse.
She’s arching, struggling, against the sheets.
And then running the backs of her knuckles gently against Lena’s chest. Soft curves, her skin smells faintly of sweat, and something so inherently Lena that it almost sends Kara spiralling away. Free-falling once more.
And her palms, and then fingertips, and then lips, meet Lena’s nipples. And the curve of Lena’s spine traces something beautiful into the clinging darkness of the bedroom. Traces something beautiful into the back of Kara’s throat.
Lena’s swearing, her hips grinding down into Kara’s.
They’re kissing again.
“Touch me, f-fuck, please, touch me.”
She’d never imagined that Lena Luthor could beg.
But, again, she’d never imagined that Lena Luthor would be on top of her, desperately grinding her hips down against her, pressing their bodies together as though she’ll never quite be quite close enough.
Closer, closer, closer.
Lena’s grey, half-closed eyes are rolling back. As she runs her fingers over the soft skin of Lena’s inner thighs. Kara thinks, in a hazy way, that maybe this is where Lena is softest.
And Kara moves on instinct, breathes on instinct.
Breathing in Lena’s pulse.
And Lena is wet. So wet.
Dripping over her fingertips as she brushes over her clit.
Lena makes a noise that is almost inhuman. A noise lost somewhere soft, between a sob and a moan. Formed at then back of her throat, as a tear spins a soft line down her cheek. Kara raises her other hand, and brushes it away. Pulls Lena down for a kiss.
Lena struggles to kiss, struggles not to whimper. Struggles for breath.
“Kara, Kara, K-Kara, Kara.”
Kara was wrong before, she realises. This is where Lena is softest. She draws imaginary circles over Lena’s clit, traces imaginary love letters.
And Lena moans again, dropping her head down to Kara’s shoulder. Her teeth meeting Kara’s skin, biting down, grinding her hips against Kara’s fingertips.
It’s somehow better, better than she could’ve ever imagined. Better than any fantasy freefall.
Kara circles, faster harder. She dips down, inside.
Fuck god fuck god fuck.
Insideinsideinside. Pressing, over and over.
Then slipping once more over Lena’s clit.
Kara breathes in the way Lena moans. Fasterfasterfasterfasterfuckfaster.
The way Lena’s hips move, desperately, against her fingers.
The way Lena still tries to kiss her, even as she moans, even as she whimpers. Against her lips. Breathing against her lips.
Lena is beautiful as she comes.
As she falls, falls apart.
In Kara’s arms. Over Kara’s body.
Then there’s a softer darkness between them.
As Lena catches her breath, and Kara leaves her hand in Lena’s borrowed sleep shorts, running the fingertips of her other hand down the soft ridges of Lena’s spine.
This is soft too. Intimate.
Lena presses her lips against Kara’s neck, again and again and again and again and again.
And Kara pretends that she can’t hear what Lena is whispering against her skin.
And when Lena looks up, finally, her eyes are dark. Soft, still soft, yet filling with something darker, velvety. As she runs her hand down the centre of Kara’s bare chest. And Kara tips her head back.
And whispers a promise to the stars.
A promise Lena pretends that she doesn’t hear.
Not quite yet.