Lena knows that Kara is going to kiss her almost before Kara asks her to come upstairs. It’s just been that kind of night. It’s been the kind of is-this-a-date that feels full of light and laughter and warmth and growing affection, and on the way to dinner Kara took Lena’s hand, and at desert Lena blushed when she reached out to brush Kara’s hair behind her ear and, well, there’s only one way that kind of night ends. So it’s not a surprise when Kara hesitates at the door to her apartment building. She looks at Lena through eyes turned suddenly shy, her bottom lip between her teeth, and then she asks, “Would you like to come up?”
Lena should say no. Lena should say no for all the reasons she said no to friendship with Kara in the first place, before she was overruled by Kara’s persistence and charm. She should say no because for the last two hours her fangs have been itching in her mouth, because Kara smells like a summer afternoon. She should say no because no one she’s ever fed on has lived to tell the tale, and Lena isn’t sure she’s going to make it through tasting Kara without, well, tasting Kara. But the alternative is never really knowing Kara at all.
She says yes.
She shoves her apprehension down the way she shoves the hand Kara hasn’t claimed for her own deep into her coat pocket as they climb the stairs. Kara fumbles with her keys, but she doesn’t let go of Lena.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Kara asks when she’s finally got them through the door.
You, Lena thinks. She physically shakes the thought out of her mind. “No, I’m okay,” she says with a smile. In her pocket, her fingers dig into her leg, and she wills the pain of it to distract her from the way this whole room smells like Kara, the way the air is thick with her presence, the way it all leaves hidden fangs aching with want.
“Well, I can take your coat,” Kara suggests. And then she’s standing close to Lena, too close, those deep blue eyes a trap into which Lena fears she has already fallen. Kara’s fingers are working button by button and she’s got her hands on Lena as she pushes the jacket off of her shoulders and fuck.
Kara gives Lena every opportunity to say no. She looks at Lena’s mouth, and up at her eyes, and down at her mouth again, leans in as Lena’s jacket falls to the floor, hovers so close that Lena can feel her breath on her lips, and she waits. In the end it’s Lena who closes the gap at the last moment just when she can feel that she’s waited too long. Kara will pull away if she waits any longer, and Lena doesn’t think she can take it, and so she presses a closed mouth kiss to Kara’s lips. Just that contact is enough to make her shiver.
Kara smiles into Lena’s mouth. “Couch?” she whispers.
Lena nods, and then squeaks when Kara sweeps her easily off her feet, laughs when Kara tries to go in for a second kiss and misses, rests her head against Kara’s shoulder and that is a mistake. It’s a mistake because she can hear the blood pulsing through Kara’s veins, she can hear the pounding of her heart, she can’t take her eyes off of Kara’s throat.
Kara puts her down and settles in next to her, giggling, a soft flush across her cheeks, and holds out her arms in obvious invitation. Lena can do this. She can sit here on the couch and kiss Kara for the first time. She can kiss her deep and thorough the way that Kara deserves, and then she can say goodnight, and CatCo’s best and brightest young reporter will live to see morning. That’s how this is going to go. So she lets Kara wrap her arms around her, lets her initiate the second kiss, longer and softer, less awkward, no smiles now. And it’s fine. It’s good.
And then Kara licks into her mouth and things take a turn for the intense. Because if kissing Kara closed mouth was enough to make Lena shiver, feeling Kara’s tongue move across hers elicits a full body shudder and a low whine. Kara moans when Lena’s tongue flickers into her mouth in turn, and she doesn’t resist when Lena straddles her, when she tangles one hand deep into blonde locks and tugs, when she rests the other hand gently gently over that wild heart beating so fast and so strong that Lena can feel it pound beneath her fingers. Kara puts her hands on Lena’s waist and her thumb brushes Lena’s skin where her blouse has ridden up.
It’s too much. Lena feels her fangs come out and struggles to break the kiss in a way that will seem natural to Kara. Control. She needs a minute to get control back. She kisses along Kara’s jaw as a distraction, buying time, praying that Kara won’t notice that anything is wrong before she can pull her fangs back in. But Kara is lifting her chin and guiding Lena to her throat with the hand that isn’t stroking bare skin at her hip, and Lena has the heady smell of her in her lungs and the heat of her pulsing under her mouth and, well. Lena is a predator, after all.
Kara gasps when the fangs pierce her, and to Lena, it’s music. So is Kara’s whimper vibrating against Lena’s lips as she begins to suck. And god, there is something about Kara that doesn’t taste like anyone Lena has ever consumed before, and she’s almost drunk on it the moment it touches her tongue.
“How,” Kara mutters. “How are you doing this?” She tightens her fingers in Lena’s hair as if to try to pull her away, as if any human could pull Lena off of prey once it’s taken. A thrill runs through Lena’s body when Kara pulls her closer instead with another low groan. Kara’s breath is coming faster now, and there is some distant, rational part of Lena’s mind that registers that this is the first time she’s seen Kara’s breathing seem anything but effortless.
“Are- Are you feeding on me?” Kara asks. She shifts her hips under Lena and tilts her head back further, giving Lena still more access. But Lena is not planning to move; she’s got her fangs in Kara’s carotid and draining her now is only a matter of time. She wonders absently how long Kara will continue to grasp and writhe and grind beneath her, because goddamn if it isn’t making Lena feel an altogether different kind of hunger. Kara too; Lena can smell her arousal even through the blood.
“F-fuck,” Kara whispers.
That’s the thing that finally sobers Lena, because Kara Sunshine Danvers does not say words like fuck. Lena realizes with a jolt that she has her fangs sunk into the brightest, sweetest, softest person she knows. She scrambles backwards, off of Kara with her kiss swollen lips and hooded eyes, away from the blood pumping into the couch cushions with every beat of Kara’s precious, fragile heart.
“Shit. Shit. Kara, I-” There’s not time for apologies. “I need a towel. I’ll get a towel, I- Stay there.” There’ll be a towel in the kitchen. She can put pressure on the wound, call for help, call for an ambulance, anything. That distant, rational part of her mine knows that a ruptured carotid is not the kind of thing from which Kara can recover, but Lena has to try. She’s back with the towel in seconds, and Kara is…
Laughing. Her face is full of wonder as she brings her hand up to the wound and brings it away slick with blood.
“How?” She says. “This should be impossible. You should be impossible.”
“I’m a vampire,” Lena blurts out. It’s not close to an apology or a real explanation, but her mind and heart are racing with fear and her hands are shaking and that’s what she’s got right now so that’s what comes out of her mouth.
“You don’t say,” Kara says, laughing again. And then, incredibly, she starts to get to her feet.
Lena darts forward to push her down, but Kara pushes back. Kara pushes, and Lena stumbles, and that is as impossible for Lena as vampires are for Kara.
“I’m okay,” Kara insists.
Lena wants very much to tell her that she isn’t, that she’s going to bleed out, that standing up will make it worse. Kara reaches up to wipe still more blood from her neck and underneath Lena sees… a bruise. Skin deeply purpled but unbroken. It’s her turn to whisper, “How?” Because this should have been the greatest mistake of her life. This night should have ended with Kara’s empty body weighed down at the bottom of the bay.
Kara smirks. She steps in close to Lena and runs one bloody thumb across her bottom lip. Lena’s fangs tingle and, almost without thinking about it, she takes Kara’s fingers into her mouth. “You’re not the only one with a secret,” Kara murmurs. Her eyes darken as Lena works her tongue over her knuckles. She pulls herself free to tangle wet fingers in Lena’s hair and pulls her close, wrapping the other arm tight around her waist.
Lena hesitates. Kara’s scent is near overpowering but fear is flashing through her. She tries to pull away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
A number of things click at once: Kara’s tendency to disappear at odd moments, the absurdly transparent lies, the long sleeved shirts even in the heat of summer - to hide the suit, Lena presumes. And the wound, healed now already, barely a mark on Kara’s skin.
“Oh,” Lena says, fumbling for words and coming up empty for the second time tonight.
“Yeah,” Kara breathes. She lifts her chin, exposing the thick muscle of her throat. “So. You sure I can’t get you that drink?”