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“Think I would get flagged?” Adora asks her, grinning at Catra’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. The fact that Catra’s fur isn’t standing on end is a testament to her tremendous amount of willpower.

“Definitely. Put heart emojis over your nipples or something,” she manages, ever the pragmatist as Adora squeals in response, raising her phone and finally taking the picture of her completely topless in their flat’s tiny bathroom. Catra is dying here. She knows Adora just wants her opinion. Privately, her chest feels like it might burst at the way Adora is trusting her with this after burying it for years, but she is still struggling being in close quarters with her half-naked crush.

Adora has been on HRT for six months now. Her chest has been developing slowly, and today she pulled Catra into the bathroom, whipping off her shirt and asking if she thought she would get flagged for obscene content if she posted a photo like her old topless post-workout pictures on her Instagram.

Looking back on it now, all the photos were clearly performative, Adora trying to force herself into the role of masculinity she had been told she needed to play. Adora is likely going to be a gymrat until the day she dies, that part was always real, but she hasn’t posted an irritating picture of her flexing topless in two years.

Catra had always felt conflicted about the photos. She always felt conflicted about everything to do with Adora until she turned over in their bed at the group home during their senior year of high school, her eyes brimming with silent tears, and whispered I don’t want to be a man. The years Catra went through of conflicting attractions and disgust at the idea of men in general, but inexplicable love for her best friend, all clicked into place in that moment.

It took most of freshmen year of college for Adora to be comfortable enough with herself to do more than change her clothes a little and stop cutting her hair. Catra urged her to pick out a more comfortable name, and Adora let Catra use it for her in the privacy of their own flat, but she only started coming out to the people around them at the beginning of this semester, when the HRT was progressing far enough that she couldn’t remain stealth anymore.

“You’re the best,” Adora tells her as she tugs her shirt back on, phone still in her hand so she can post the photo to her story. She isn’t confident enough to permanently post it, but Catra will still have plenty of time to sneak a screenshot this evening and torture herself with it.

Adora posted it, and Catra sees her naked every day when she changes anyway. Catra feels perfectly justified in her thirst for her oblivious best friend.

“Of course I am,” Catra dismisses, turning up her nose and ignoring the way her cheeks are flushed and her tail is waving behind her. Adora just laughs and shakes her head.

“Come on, lets watch a movie or something. I want to take the night off school to celebrate my tits finally being banned by Instagram,” Adora tells her, already reaching for her hands to pull her from the bathroom.

 

--

 

Adora watches Catra bustling around the humanities lounge like she has any right to be looking, much less be there. This isn’t even her major. Technically she belongs over in the STEM building with the other sports medicine majors. She ends up here a lot though. Partially because Catra and Bow both belong here, partially because Catra puts in six hours tutoring here a week, and partially because she just prefers it to the stuck-up vibe of the biology lounge.

Catra is helping a freshman with his homework. She has her hair up in a ponytail so it won’t fall in her face while she leans over the textbooks. It makes her ears seem to stick out a bit more than they normally do, and Adora wants to run her fingers along them, well aware how soft they are to the touch. She can’t just do that though, at least not outside of ear scritchies, which Catra enjoys just as much now as she did when she was a kitten.

Adora has been in love with Catra for as long as she can remember. She felt disgusting for it for years. Catra was crying when she told Adora she was a lesbian back in middle school. She didn’t need her best friend disrespecting her by crushing on her. It was around the time where Adora had the thought if I let myself be a girl it would be okay to love Catra when Adora realized she had been clutching at straws for a long time trying to ignore the truth.

Catra accepted her instantly. Catra restructured her entire fucking savings system so she could help Adora transition. Adora still won’t be able to get her implants until they have both graduated, but with how much the HRT has been helping who knows if she will even still feel like she needs to get them by then. She is up to a B cup now. It was some of the most exciting news she had gotten all year.

Well, she shouldn’t diminish what a weight it was off her shoulders when everybody in her life accepted her so easily. Coming out to Bow was easiest – he understands exactly how she feels, and Adora had already come out once before. Catra was still probably the hardest, despite how Adora never would have been able to tell someone else without having Catra’s reaction first. She was the most important – if she had rejected Adora, she doesn’t know what she would have done.

Catra had just drawn in a sharp breath and hugged her. It wasn’t what Adora was expecting. She smiles a little at the memory, watching Catra reach up to tuck the end of her bangs behind her ear as she continues to explain something to the struggling freshman. The lighting in the old Culperson Humanities Center is shitty at best, but Catra’s eyes gleam in the low light.

She looks beautiful. She always has, but Adora is shocked not to feel a twinge of guilt at the thought this time. She always felt disgusting for having feelings for Catra after she came out. The guilt has been easing for the past year and a half as she began to truly accept herself, but it has still been there. Even with her transition well underway, she doesn’t quite feel allowed to think of Catra this way, but it doesn’t hurt like it did before either.

It doesn’t feel predatory anymore. It just feels like a crush she shouldn’t have on her platonic best friend. Adora swallows, watching Catra wave her hands as she talks to the freshmen.

Is this what lesbians who get to grow up as women feel like?

 

--

 

They sleep in the same bed because they can’t afford to buy a second one new. They can’t risk getting a used or secondhand one. If it has bedbugs or fleas, Catra is fucked, and they can’t afford the incurring healthcare expenses to free themselves of the issue should it occur. Catra is used to crawling into bed with Adora and curling up at her side, or draping over her. She is even used to this, Adora grimacing and shifting her hips away first thing in the morning, guilt radiating off her as surely as desire is.

It used to happen in high school as Adora got used to her body. It is infrequent now, but the stench of guilt coming off Adora now has Catra’s throat closing a little. She hates knowing how bad this makes Adora feel. A year ago, Adora whispered you wouldn’t have to deal with this if I was-

Catra cut her off. Is Adora pressed against her in bed, hard, its own circle of hell? Absolutely, but it isn’t for the reasons Adora thinks.

“Adora, it’s fine,” Catra tells her, voice rough from sleep as she pointedly cuddles closer against Adora’s chest, even if she keeps their hips separated. She may be worried about this causing another dysphoria spike, but she also would prefer to not actually feel Adora pressed against her, sparking her dirty thoughts into life far too early in the morning. Adora hasn’t told Catra how she feels about her downstairs situation, but Catra needs her to know she isn’t disgusted by her or something.

“Sorry,” Adora mumbles, her cheeks blazing as she turns her head to squint at their clock. She is looking for an excuse to flee the bed, but neither of them has to be up for another twenty minutes. Catra chuffs, nudging into her neck and breathing her in. The guilt is still there, but it is not overpowering anymore at least.

“I seriously don’t care. It’s just biology, and you know that never mattered to me,” Catra reminds her, turning her cheek to mark along Adora’s neck. Adora lets out a slow breath and nods once, tilting her head back to allow better access.

“Don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Adora says, softly, threading a hand through her mane and holding her close as Catra nuzzles her. Catra scoffs.

“Don’t get started on that deserve bullshit again. We’ve had this discussion. We aren’t echoing any more of her bullshit,” Catra chides. Despite the reminder of the warden of their group home, Adora just smiles and leans down to nudge their foreheads together. Catra lets out a slow breath before she nudges her back.

She could kiss her right now. It would be so easy. Adora is already going through a lot, though. She doesn’t need to add on worrying about Catra’s crush too. What if Adora isn’t comfortable coming to her with the more intimate parts of her transition anymore? She has no one else she feels safe talking about it with. Catra swears she will say something someday, but when Adora still is not comfortable with herself isn’t the time.

Preferably, Catra won’t say anything until she has managed to beat her crush into the ground. Adora may be out now in every way – she may borrow Catra’s messenger bag on occasion and lovingly stroke the lesbian pride pin on it now – but she has still not shown any interest in Catra like that. If she was even capable of being interested in Catra, she probably shut that down years ago when a young, confused Catra told her she likes girls despite there seeming to be an exception to that rule.

Adora has never done anything but respect Catra. The least Catra can do is return the decency to the one person who has always offered it to her.

 

--

 

Adora’s hair falls in her face, not quite long enough to stay tucked behind her ear, and she sighs in frustration.

“It’s getting long,” Catra says, quietly, her hand coming up and tucking the loose strands behind Adora’s ear for her. Adora startles, blinking up at Catra in surprise. Catra blushes, withdrawing her hand to tuck it down into her lap. “It’s just growing fast, is all. A lot faster than my hair did,” Catra tells her, shrugging. Adora feels a bit breathless, struggling to think after a single caress of affection.

Get it together, you lesbian. Adora swallows, clearing her throat a little as she does so. She needs to move the conversation along, but she also doesn’t want to bring up Catra’s forced haircut from when Ms. Weaver found out what the kids at school were calling Catra – what she was calling herself. It had been traumatic for Catra, a constant reminder of the hate they lived under as it grew out again.

“I don’t know how you stand it in your face,” Adora manages, eventually, blinking at Catra. Catra rolls her eyes, turning back to her own homework, spread out on the dinner table in front of her.

“Hence the bangs and occasional ponytail. I’d hold off on bangs for you, though. It would cover up that giant forehead of yours, and we need somewhere to post billboards,” Catra negs her, the corner of her mouth curling up. Adora scoffs, rolling her eyes as she turns back to her work. Privately, she is smiling to herself. It is almost comforting the way Catra will mock her for just about anything – but not the one thing Adora could never handle.

 

--

 

Catra is maybe a bit drunk. She can’t control her purr anymore, cuddling tightly into Adora’s side and kneading against the back of the sofa on either side of her. Glimmer and Bow are still chattering happily. Bow is sober so he can drive Glimmer and Glimmer is just a naturally talkative drunk, but nothing is really getting through Catra’s senses but Adora.

Adora’s scent has changed with the new hormones. It has been happening slowly over the last year, but Catra can now definitively say it is different, even if it is similar. All the comforting familiarity is there, but maybe her pheromones are new or something, because it is downright intoxicating to Catra now. Catra purrs to herself, utterly content as she breathes in Adora’s pulse point, occasionally licking against the spot.

“She always this affectionate while drunk?” Catra registers Glimmer asking in the background. Adora laughs lightly and shrugs, but she never lets go of Catra, her arms wrapped firmly around her back.

“No, but I don’t think she has ever been this drunk before,” Adora slurs. A consequence of the HRT they weren’t expecting is that Adora can’t handle liquor like she used to – not that she ever could, but now she is a total lightweight. It is a good thing they decided to host the group’s first ever drunk movie night at their apartment.

“Love you,” Catra mumbles against her neck, licking against the side of her neck again just to revel in the taste of her skin – she is pretty sure that has changed too, but she didn’t exactly have it memorized before even with her habit for occasional affectionate grooming. Adora lets out a high-pitched noise of delight. They aren’t brand new words to her – Catra has said them a few times over the years, especially since Adora came out and needed the assurance – but they are rare.

“Love you too,” Adora promises her, ducking her head and kissing the top of Catra’s head. Catra’s purr has never been louder.

 

--

 

Catra’s student is flirting with her and Adora can’t even do anything. She is used to stepping between Catra and guys who don’t know how to take a hint, rolling her shoulders and making challenging eye contact. They have pretended Adora was her boyfriend more times than Adora cares to count, seeing as even once threatens to give her heart palpitations. Adora doesn’t pass as a man anymore, though, and this is a girl flirting with Catra.

Catra could actually want this attention. Adora does her best to force down the possessiveness in her chest, looking down at the textbook in her lap and glaring at it. If she is lucky, any other students in the lounge will see it is a kinesiology textbook and cut her the slack of being annoyed by the technicality of the material.

Catra is blushing, her ears twitching as the girl clearly makes a pass at her. Catra’s gaze darts away from the student, but she doesn’t look to Adora. Out of the corner of her eye, Adora watches Catra gather herself. She straightens her back with a polite air and turns the girl down. Adora can’t hear what they are saying from the other side of the lounge, but Adora can tell Catra is trying to be professional.

She lets out a slow breath. Tutors probably aren’t allowed to date students – at least not their students. That would make sense. Adora comforts herself with that thought as she forces her attention to return back to her textbook.

She is trying. She is trying to do right by Catra. Catra has been so accepting of her, and Adora doesn’t want to take advantage of that kindness. She doesn’t want to seem entitled, like now that she finally looks the way she has always felt Catra must be attracted to her just like all the straight girls in high school were. Catra is such a big part of her life, and she couldn’t stand creeping her out by making a move on her.

Maybe when they have jobs and could maybe afford to live apart. Then, if Catra is grossed out, she won’t have to deal with Adora waking up hard from thinking about her. Adora shudders a little at the very idea of putting Catra through that when she is already uncomfortable from Adora’s feelings.

 

--

 

It is the morning again. They are both pretending there is no reason for their current positions, Catra draping her upper body over Adora’s chest, her knees curled up and tucked into Adora’s side, keeping their lower bodies apart. A terrible, hungry part of Catra wants to ask what the dream was that had Adora waking up and scrambling away from where she was pressing up against a sweating Catra’s back.

“Adora?” Catra prompts, softly, her head rested on Adora’s shoulder, but not in a position where either of them can really see the other. Adora hesitates, but after a moment she inclines her head down, clearly waiting for Catra to continue. Catra licks her lips, unsure what the right way to word her question is, or if there even is one.

“Are you uncomfortable because of… you know, or just because I’m in the bed for it too?” she settles on asking, because how do you feel about your dick is just crass and insensitive. Catra wants to know how Adora feels so she can respect her wishes, but it is fair if Adora doesn’t want to talk about it at all. Adora immediately flushes with embarrassment, turning her face away.

“Just that I’m making you deal with it,” she admits, quietly. Catra frowns. It made her a bit uncomfortable when this would happen in high school, but she knows it doesn’t actually mean anything. Adora always scrambles away immediately, apologizing and giving Catra her space. For the last two years, she has been far from uncomfortable with it.

“Oh, I could deal with it, but that is a different conversation,” Catra returns, smirking a little against Adora’s skin. It is part of the act – not that her words are a joke, but pretending that they aren’t serious takes Oscar-winning skills. Clearly assurances and soft words aren’t getting through to Adora. Jokes, gentle insults, and dismissing any notion of being upset might be her only chance of getting Adora to accept that it really is okay.

To her surprise, Adora makes a cut off noise in her throat, and a fresh wave of desire hits the air. Both of them freeze. That wasn’t supposed to get a reaction. Adora was supposed to tell her to get her mind out of the gutter and that she had meant it innocently – clearly she didn’t. Catra has made jokes like this before and never gotten a reaction. That was years ago, though – she has been refraining from bringing up anything approaching this realm ever since Adora came out and Catra no longer knew where her boundaries about her body were.

“I’m sorry,” Adora whispers, and fuck does she sound genuinely wrecked. It gives away more than even the twitch did. That had been involuntary, but the fear in her voice tells Catra that she actually meant it. Swallowing, Catra lifts her head just enough to turn to the other cheek and glance down over her shoulder. Adora draws in a breath and says nothing as Catra watches the tent in the sheets twitch beneath her gaze.

“It’s okay, Adora,” Catra manages to assure, her voice low. The words are an afterthought, a don’t panic while her mind races a mile a minute, scanning through memories of the last year of scent signals. She wrote off a lot as being just because Adora was taking all new hormones, her body changing and causing, in Adora’s own words, everything to feel wonky.

Catra knows what desire smells like though – she knows what Adora’s desire smells like even, and – well, there really shouldn’t be any platonic way for Catra to interpret desire pouring off Adora as she watched Catra do yoga, but the moment she had turned to Adora, hope in her chest, Adora blushed and launched into a short rant about gender envy.

Catra bought it. Smelling the mix of panic and lust pouring off Adora now, she doesn’t know how. Adora shifts a little bit, clearly uncomfortable. That is fair considering Catra is still staring at her cock, even if it is through a few layers of fabric. Catra’s cheeks flush as she raises her head to look at Adora. Adora is watching her anxiously, her own cheeks blazing as she stares at her with a pleading expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice just a touch desperate. Catra is already fucking wet thinking that Adora might be hard for her. She shakes her head, cautiously shuffling around in the bed until she is stretched out beside Adora. Nothing about the tension on Adora’s face lessens, her brows pinched as she watches Catra.

“Nothing to apologize for. Want to tell me what you were dreaming about?” she asks, slowly moulding herself in against Adora’s side. Adora’s eyes widen, her cheeks flushing even worse as Catra drops an arm to lay over her waist. She could shift it further down, depending on how Adora responds to her prompt.

Adora responds by stuttering I- uh- I for a few moments before a you- finally makes its way into the stuttering mess of words and Adora promptly snaps her mouth shut, eyes still wide. Catra raises a brow at her as she shifts her hand down to rest on Adora’s hip, rubbing purposeful circles with her thumb.

“I what, Adora?” she prompts, adding in Adora’s name just to reassure her. Adora opens her mouth, gaping a little down at her.

“You’re… okay with this?” she finally asks, the idea sinking in several years late, but she got there eventually, Catra supposes. Catra doesn’t lower her raised, questioning brow even as her hand sneaks lower, so dangerously close it makes Adora draw in a sharp breath. She twitches again, the fabric jumping with renewed desire.

Catra has never wanted her more than this moment. She never thought Adora would be okay with it until now.

“And what is this, Adora?” Catra has to question, rubbing her fingers in purposeful circles against the dip beneath Adora’s hip. It is the same motion she uses against her clit when she is thinking about Adora. There is no way for Adora to know that, but her breath hitches regardless. She is silent for a moment, licking her lips and darting her gaze around Catra’s face as she clearly tries to gather herself.

“I- I want you. Fuck. More than that. I’ve been trying to bury it, and I know I’m out now, but I’m still not-“ Adora’s words hitch, loaded with emotion, and she cuts off. Catra swallows, watching the tears form in Adora’s eyes as she darts her gaze away again. She opens her mouth again, and Catra just knows another apology is on the tip of her tongue.

“Stop. I’m going to tell you what you are, since you’re clearly about to say the wrong thing,” Catra cuts in, watching Adora’s eyes go wide and snap back to her, trepidation in her gaze. “You’re a lesbian, Adora. You’re beautiful. And you know what else?” she questions, watching the overwhelming emotion blossom in Adora’s eyes. Adora makes a weak, almost grateful sound, and shakes her head just enough to send her hair, now just past her shoulders, into disarray. Catra slowly raises her hand off Adora’s hip, hovering it in the air.

“You’re mine, Adora,” Catra finishes, dropping her hand to lightly rest over the outline of Adora in the sheets. She wants to squeeze, to feel, but not while Adora’s eyes are going wide, the tears in them finally running as a soft, disbelieving moan rips from her throat.

 

--

 

Catra is straddled over her lap, licking into her mouth and purring as they kiss, slow and languid. Adora cried for probably twenty minutes straight as Catra crawled into her lap and assured her it’s okay, I feel the same, it’s okay, but Adora eventually got it together enough to send Catra a watery smile. Somehow that smile turned into a soft kiss, and then a hard kiss that had Adora recalling the hazy shapes of her dream. She is hard again, Catra straddled over her lap and rolling her hips occasionally, causing Adora to moan each time. The fabric trapped between them is damp.

“You know how confusing it was, knowing I was a lesbian but also knowing I was in love with you?” Catra questions before pressing another firm kiss against her mouth. Adora can’t hide her noise of surprise.

“I love you too. I always did. I felt so guilty for it,” Adora tells her, pulling back from the kiss only long enough to say the words before she leans in again and licks into Catra’s mouth, needing her warmth against her. Catra groans, rolling her hips down again, and Adora moans in response. It feels so good, better than every vague fantasy she has had about Catra rubbing up against her.

“No guilt. Not here. I want you,” Catra promises her, ducking down to nip at Adora’s neck. Fuck, Adora is going to die. She whines a little, flexing her hips and wanting nothing more than to hear Catra’s answering gasp for the rest of her life. Emboldened, she drops her hands to Catra’s hips, holding her in place as she flexes her hips up again. Part of her is still expecting Catra to pull away, but instead-

Fuck,” Catra moans, panting for a moment before she surges forward and claims Adora’s mouth for her own, rolling her hips down determinedly. As turned on as Catra seems to be from her noises, panting, and writhing, Adora is wound even tighter, totally unused to this kind of stimulation. She feels the pressure building in her gut already.

“Catra, you need to stop or I’m going to-“ Adora cuts off with a groan as Catra stills mid-hip-roll. Catra blinks down at her for a moment, her cheeks flushed, before a slow smirk spreads up her face. Adora draws in a sharp breath. There is definitely not enough air in the room.

“That worked up for me, huh?” she questions. Adora squeezes her eyes shut, stifling a groan as her cock twitches. She nods, a little desperate, but if Catra wants her to hold out, she needs her to stop talking like that. Catra said she loves her, wants her, but there is a difference between thinking she could be into this when imagining it distantly and actually doing it. Adora knows that she has no interest in dealing with any dick but her own, and she doesn’t know if Catra is ready for this. Catra ducks down, her breath hot in Adora’s ear as she purrs into it.

“You want to come just thinking about me, Adora?” Catra questions, rolling her hips again. Adora groans, throwing her head back as her shoulders twitch with the effort of holding herself back. Her nod is shallow, but it is enough of a response apparently. Catra purrs. Adora can tell from the tone alone that she is still smirking. Adora knows it is far too soon – Catra hasn’t even properly touched her, it is embarrassing – but she also woke up thinking about this, and she is approaching too turned on to think properly.

“You can, you know. It’s not like you can get me pregnant or anything. We can take our time doing this however we like,” Catra promises her, scraping her teeth along the edge of her jaw. Adora whines again, her thoughts a bit hazy from how badly she wants to give in, but a part of her is convinced that the second she does, Catra will pull away.

“Are you sure?” she asks, breathily, despite how her hands are flexing on Catra’s hips. Catra chuckles against her, rolling her hips again, and Adora pants as she tries to maintain control.

“I’m already soaked for you, Adora,” Catra purrs in return, rolling her hips again, and Adora can’t hold back any longer, twitching her hips up as the building heat is finally met.

 

--

 

If Catra is honest with herself, she has kind of pictured this exact scenario before, with Adora waking up hard and letting Catra give her a hand with it. She never pictured it quite this emotional, but it was always a fantasy before, something she pictured while desperately fucking herself and pretending it wasn’t her own fingers. Confessions weren’t needed before she was stripping Adora and riding her, just a quick are you okay with this before Catra finally got to touch her.

After Adora recovers somewhat and they have both stripped out of their ruined clothes, Adora peers up at her sheepishly. Her gaze is searching, like she is expecting to find rejection there. Catra rolls her eyes as she runs her hands over Adora’s body, squeezing and feeling along her.

“Can I touch your tits? They’ve been haunting me ever since you started wearing bras,” Catra asks, dropping a light kiss to Adora’s sternum. Adora flushes immediately, nodding a bit eagerly. Catra can’t help but purr in response as she finally sweeps her hands up to grope Adora. “You really are beautiful. Watching you finally grow into yourself has been amazing,” Catra promises her, dropping a kiss to her collarbone now. Adora whimpers in response, arching up into Catra’s greedy hands.

Catra is more than happy to finally touch her. Adora makes soft sounds, shifting beneath her, seemingly eager to follow her hands. Aside from a few public and messy kisses with cheerleaders back in high school that Catra had silently fumed over despite having no right to, no one has ever gotten close to actually touching Adora. Adora didn’t have a chest for them to grope at the time. The girls usually went for her biceps or something while Catra pretended not to be watching.

Catra is the first person to ever touch Adora like this. She flicks a claw over a nipple, her tail lashing with satisfaction behind her when Adora groans in response.

“Why does this- just feel right,” Adora pants a little, sounding in awe of the words as she says them. Catra purrs, leaning up to nip at the side of Adora’s neck as she kneads at her chest with both hands. It isn’t a real question, but Catra knows what she means.

“I’ve been picturing this for years,” Catra tells her in a low voice before latching on to leave a proper hickey. Adora moans and then nods once. Catra has been thinking about this for so long that, despite thinking she wouldn’t get it, it almost feels inevitable now she has Adora spread out beneath her.

“I never let myself really picture it until senior year, but- yeah, I’ve wanted you as long as I’ve known how to,” Adora returns. Catra growls again her neck, low and possessive. Adora’s breath hitches in response. Cautiously, she raises her hands up to settle on Catra’s hips.

“Can I touch you?” she asks, softly. Catra stills against her. Oh, she definitely can.

 

--

 

Adora has gotten to pet Catra before, but never like this – never how she wanted to. She squeezes along every part of her body, scattering kisses into her soft fur and breathing her in. Catra makes gentle noises as Adora feels her up, and Adora keeps pulling back to make sure it is still okay, but Catra is naked now and Adora can see she is dripping. Adora swallows as her hands wander down to Catra’s thighs, squeezing with her effort to hold herself back.

“You can touch me,” Catra tells her, eyes half-lidded as she gazes down her body to where Adora is kneeling between her thighs. Adora feels herself twitch, half-hard again. Cautiously, she slides one hand up to stroke along Catra’s folds. She has no fucking clue what she is doing. She isn’t a straight boy – she knows where Catra’s clit is, at least - but that is about it. Catra looks vaguely amused as she slides a hand down to cover Adora’s, guiding her touch.

“Like this,” she breathes as she moves to touch herself. Adora watches, her mouth dry, as Catra shows her how to touch her. She guides her through the movements against her clit until she apparently gets it, because both of Catra’s hands fly down to fist in the sheets as she cries out softly, hips twitching forward. Adora repeats the motion, keeping it up as Catra whines and twitches beneath her. Her slick has worked its way down her thighs, dampening her fur onto her skin. It emboldens Adora as surely as Catra’s cries do.

“What do you want?” she breathes. She doesn’t know how else to get Catra off but to keep going. Apparently, neither does Catra.

Don’t stop,” she gasps, shaking her head at the very idea as she clutches the comforter. Adora is fully hard again at this point. She nods, doing her best to keep up the movement despite the way her hand is cramping. Catra moans softly, flexing her hips down into Adora’s touch, but she isn’t really sure how long she can keep this up. She has no experience with this type of motion. Her fingers falter and Catra lets out a broken off noise, disappointment tinging her voice as she manages to release the bed.

Inside,” Catra orders, reaching for her hand and guiding Adora’s fingers down until she is suddenly being surrounded by slick heat. Adora’s mouth goes dry as she presses in with two fingers, another of Catra’s guiding her as Catra sighs in relief, her hips flexing to work herself down onto their combined fingers. Velvet heat surrounds her, slick and responsive, Catra’s tight muscles quivering as Adora slowly thrusts in. It is a brand-new sensation to her, and she kind of loves it, feeling every twitch Catra gives and how soaked she is for her.

“I need you to fuck me,” Catra decides, her voice breathy as she slits her eyes open to make eye contact with Adora again. Her cock twitches, her breath hitching from the desire spreading through her.

“Do you want me to-“ she doesn’t get to finish the sentence.

Yes.”

 

--

 

 

Catra whines, her voice high and thin, as Adora presses in slow. Adora hesitates at the sound, but Catra immediately shakes her head, biting her lip and raising her arms. Adora leans forward, bracing on her forearms on either side of Catra’s head so they can be pressed together as she lines up. Catra wraps her arms around Adora’s shoulders, feeling her body relax a bit now they are closer together.

“I know you’ve found my vibrator before, Adora. Keep going. I’m going to make noise, but it feels good,” Catra promises her. Adora flushes a little, but she nods. The toy is as close as she could get to Adora’s size based off approximating from her memories of Adora’s cock pressing against her in the morning. Catra didn’t purposefully buy toys to work up to Adora's size, shut up. A girl can dream, alright – or at least have dirty fantasies while burying her nose in the sheets traced with Adora’s lingering scent. Having something close made it all the more intense.

Adora presses forward again in a long, slow thrust that has Catra whimpering, but she is so worked up and wet she takes it with just the subtle burn of a stretch. Her toy was a little longer than Adora, and Catra is grateful for it, because when Adora bottoms out she is just left comfortable. She wraps her legs around Adora’s waist, crossing her ankles to hold her in against her as she takes a few moments to just breathe around the stretch.

“Feel okay?” Adora questions. Catra rolls her eyes, nudging up to rub their cheeks together.

“Feels good. Just move slowly at first. Even with toys, this is new,” Catra tells her, blushing a little but continuing her nuzzle. Adora nods, readjusting her arms a little to shift her brace so she can duck and kiss Catra again. Catra lets out a soft, contented sigh, rolling her hips experimentally. Pleasure spikes through her as both of them groan.

“I’m going to move now, okay? Tell me if it is too much,” Adora tells her, pressing another soft kiss against the side of her face. Catra flexes her hips again, biting her lip to swallow down the resulting moan, and nods. Adora pulls back slow and then rocks forward, purposeful and deep. Catra is so worked up, the slide of Adora pressing in just feels incredible.

“More. Harder,” she pants, without thinking about it. They should be taking things slow, but Catra needs it. Adora groans, pulling back and pressing in again. She looks at Catra and Catra just shakes her head.

Maybe this whole thing feels so right because they just know each other, and even in this uncharted territory they still know how to read not enough on each other. Adora pulls back and thrusts forward, setting a proper rhythm now that has Catra’s back arching, a contented trill rolling forward when Adora thrusts a bit roughly in response. It feels so good, the stretch of Adora buried inside her, solid but giving in a way the toy never was.

Adora,” she whines, unable to hold it back. Adora’s hips stutter and the heat feels crushing, so close and in every inch of her skin as Adora clearly reads her signals right and thrusts harder. Adora takes her, both of them breathing ragged and moaning as Catra twitches down and feels Adora, squeezing her in turn.

Catra can’t fucking take it. She needs to come. She has been wet since she woke up and she has been thinking about having Adora in her for a while now. She drops her hand down to touch herself as Adora thrusts in again. Adora groans as she watches Catra move, her claws digging into Adora’s back so she can still hold her in place above her with her other hand.

“You want to come that badly?” Adora asks, a smug tone at the edge of her voice as she mirrors Catra’s earlier words. Catra growls, turned on and frustrated as she works her fingers roughly against her clit.

“I want to come around your cock,” she throws back, because it is true and she wants to drink in the desperate moan Adora gives in response, her hips stuttering roughly as her arms threaten to give out. She ends up lowered down against Catra, the entire lengths of their bodies pressed together as she thrusts in, desperate moans filling the air from both of them.

“I’m close. Do you want me to pull-“ Adora starts to ask, but Catra cuts her off by kissing her firmly, tightening her legs wrapped around Adora’s back. She doesn’t want her pulling away for a second longer than it takes her to thrust in again. The heat building between her legs is almost unbearable, but it also feels like too much stimulation for her to actually come.

At least it is too much until Adora manages one last Catra and then stutters her hips forward, rough and uneven as she comes. It is the final push Catra needs as Adora holds still and spills over, moaning her name. A few seconds of desperately working her hand against her clit and twitching her hips later, she is joining Adora.

 

--

 

Adora goes to the bathroom to get Catra a warm washrag, gently cleaning up Catra as best she can. The fur on Catra’s inner thighs is kind of a mess, but there is no way Adora is going to let any of the slick dry into her coat, regardless of how boneless Catra is after orgasm. She would hate it once she started really coming back to herself. Catra just lays back in the sheets, purring and kneading at the mattress, apparently all-too-content to let Adora take care of her. Adora would be lying if she said that didn’t make her heart feel like it was bursting.

She shifts Catra’s legs, propping them up so she can make a final pass on her inner thighs before balling up the rag and throwing it towards the hamper. Carefully, she stretches Catra’s legs back out for her. Catra immediately makes grabby hands in her direction and Adora shifts up, letting Catra grab her and push her down onto the mattress to arrange them so Catra can curl up on her chest. Catra purrs, seeming as content there as she has been for every movie night they have ever had – only they are both naked and Adora just railed her through the mattress. Which, when she thinks about it like that, still seems impossible despite how it just happened.

“How long?” Catra asks, quietly, as she nuzzles against Adora’s collar bone. Adora swallows, blinking up at the ceiling. She knows what Catra means, but it is kind of hard to say. For a long moment, she thinks it over.

“I kind of realized the moment you told me you were a lesbian. I had an immediate response to hearing you say it and I was just… ashamed by it,” Adora admits, quietly. Catra stills against her chest. Adora swallows. “I tried to stop it. I felt so disgusting for-“

“Adora, shh,” Catra cuts in, her voice gentle. Adora lets out a slow breath, closing her eyes and nudging into Catra’s hair. She breathes in the familiar softness of her mane. Even now, two years after she whispered the name Adora to Catra hopefully in the living room of their shitty flat, sometimes Adora is expecting another name to cross her lips, but it never does.

“You know I wasn’t crying when I came out because of Weaver’s bullshit. I knew what I felt, but then there was you and I just – didn’t understand. I told myself it was just conditioning, since you were always there for me. The day you came out to me felt like an epiphany. My first thought was I knew I was a lesbian,” Catra tells her, quietly, still tucked into her neck. Adora draws in a breath, her heart doing some weird palpitations.

“I felt so much for you when we were alone, and then we’d go to school and your stupid football games and you just– You were different and not the person I loved. And I know why now, but for years I felt so conflicted over you. All that went away when you came out. Everything clicked into place,” Catra tells her, quietly.

Adora’s chest is bursting, her hand falling to drop into Catra’s hair and tugging lightly, a gentle request. Catra lifts her head, blinking down at Adora slowly, though her tail is swaying a bit nervously. Adora slides her hand around to cup Catra’s jaw. She watches her instantly relax, nudging into the touch. Slowly, Adora guides Catra down for a slow kiss, fluttering her eyes closed and sighing gently.

The kisses with cheerleaders back in high school – largely placed on her without asking Adora how she felt about it – had been entirely performative. Adora did them because she was supposed to, and she kind of hated every one. Kissing Catra is nothing like that. She is just met with soft warmth, the kiss a little tingly from Catra’s purr, weak but still present. Catra’s fur is silky as Adora strokes her cheek, nuzzling into the only person she has ever wanted to love.

“I loved you. Always,” Adora tells her, quietly. Catra trills, nudging back into her embrace.

“And I love you too. I loved Adora. The whole time,” Catra promises her, quietly.