“I own several tables, you know,” Cat says, letting the apartment door close with a soft click behind her. Kara’s back is to her as she puts board game pieces back in the box, but she looks over her shoulder and gives Cat a warm smile.
“It’s more fun to play on the floor,” Kara’s smile grows, and Cat has to turn toward the coat rack to temper her own grin. They’ve barely been dating—she hesitates over the word; it doesn’t fit quite right for how involved they were even before this began—a month, and each day it gets harder to hide how disgustingly taken she is with the girl.
“Mmm,” she hums in response, and slips her light jacket off to hang on the rack beside her. “Is Carter still here?” she pushes her hair back from her neck and steps further into the living room, looking down the hall toward his room.
“Sorry,” Kara’s voice gets softer, and Cat looks down at her, her face pulled in a sympathetic wince that doesn’t look right without her Kara Danvers glasses and pulled-back hair. “He got picked up a few minutes ago.”
“Oh,” Cat nods, and clasps her hands in front of her. “That’s good. Wonderful.” Kara’s brows furrow and she hates that she can’t stop herself from asking, “Did he seem alright?”
“Yeah,” Kara’s face softens, and she leans back against the couch behind her, a half-straightened Stratego box to her right. “He seemed almost…excited, actually.”
“Good,” Cat repeats, and tries not to fidget with her fingers. After all, Kara’s unnaturally perceptive, and that’s without using her alien senses. “It’s his first overnight with friends, he should be excited, shouldn’t he?” Her question is meant to be rhetorical but her damn voice lilts higher at the end, something Kara obviously catches, if her soft eyes are any indication.
“Right, well, what do you want for dinner? Or did you eat with Carter?” Cat starts to walk toward the kitchen, but looks down at Kara again when a thought hits her: “You did feed him, didn’t you? I don’t want him to be hungry if they’re having something he won’t eat—”
“Cat,” Kara says softly, and reaches up to take one of Cat’s wrists in her hand. Her grip is warm and gentle, but solid enough to cut her off. “He ate. And I had him take some of his own snacks just in case.”
Cat tries not to, but she softens. Kara notices—of course—and gives Cat one of those slow, contented smiles that make her think of words she does not want to think of. “And he has his phone, and his watch,” she says pointedly, tapping Cat’s wrist where her own emergency Supergirl call button sits behind the metal face.
“And he’s going to have fun because you are a wonderful mother who taught him to choose good friends and a very, very picky woman who doesn’t settle for anything less than the best and clearly passed that on to Carter.”
Cat raises a brow, and brushes her fingers against Kara’s forearm lightly, smirking at the way Kara’s lips part slightly. “Very picky?” Kara holds her gaze, but her thumb starts to stroke the sensitive skin at the base of Cat’s palm. “And I suppose that would make you the best?” She tries to sneer the words the way should would have a month ago but she’s out of practice with Kara and instead it just makes the other woman’s smile grow.
“If you say so,” she teases, and tugs on Cat’s wrist until she steps between Kara’s outstretched legs, her heels wobbling slightly on the plush rug.
Kara raises her knees up, bracketing Cat’s legs with hers, and lets go of Cat’s wrist to hold her hand. It’s silly, standing like this in her living room, holding hands with her assistant-slash-girlfriend. It’s disgustingly sweet and Kara is looking at her with adoration and it’s ridiculous but her right leg starts to tremble ever-so-slightly.
“I wanted to be here to see him off,” she sighs, tries to distract Kara from whatever it is her traitorous leg is doing right now, but irritatingly perceptive Kara just raises her free left hand and strokes over the back of her bare calf.
It makes the tremble worse.
“I know,” Kara says softly, and Cat’s embarrassed to say she misses Kara’s hand when it falls from hers, fingers curling inward in self-preservation at their loss. But then Kara’s right hand is on her other leg, holding her steady and running gentle fingers up and down her calves in an almost-massage.
It feels so unexpectedly tender and caring—things she should be used to from Kara by now but she’s not. She isn’t sure she ever will be because Kara is so gentle and so kind and so good and Cat knows she doesn’t deserve it, fears the day Kara will realize the same.
Her hands stroke up and down, barely glancing the back of her knees which is fortunate because any more pressure there and she thinks she might do something as cliche as go weak for her and fall.
Cat doesn’t know if her leg has stopped shaking, but Kara scoots closer until her knees are bent higher and Cat can rest her hands on Kara’s shoulders, which she thinks might be Kara’s intention. Knows it was when Kara nudges at her right foot until she lifts it, hands settling on Kara’s strong shoulders as Kara removes the heel and sets it aside.
“Better?” Kara asks, and she’s really checking but there’s also something deeper to the word, something heavy, and Cat realizes she’s closed her eyes when she has to open them to look at her.
There is most definitely something more to the question, judging by the look of longing, of want on Kara’s face. “Much,” she whispers down at her, and slides one hand from Kara’s shoulder to her neck, tangling in her hair enough to pull a little, tilt her chin up to see Kara’s face better.
She continues to look Cat in the eye as she runs her fingers over the bottom of Cat’s foot gently, teasingly—the skin there is so sensitive from hours in the pumps that she can’t stop the gasp she makes.
Kara swallows, hard enough to pull against Cat’s grip on her hair, light but firm. She touches her again, fingers trailing from the ball of her foot up the arch, and Cat can feel herself getting breathless. “Kara,” falls from her lips and she isn’t sure if it’s a warning or a plea.
She sets Cat’s foot down, and the soft carpet beneath her skin is almost as good as Kara’s touch. Kara frees her from the other heel, and presses her fingers against the curve of Cat’s foot until she makes a little whimpering noise that Kara would be wise to never mention.
“Are you trying to distract me?” Cat asks when Kara’s hands return to her legs, though this time they move up, higher until they are dipping beneath the hem of her skirt and glancing along the outside of her thighs.
“Is it working?” Kara asks and Cat is pretty sure she means to sound flirtatious but it just comes out sweet.
“Mmm,” Cat hums, because it’s not not working. “It might work a little better in the bedroom,” she smirks down at Kara, and runs her nails over the top of Kara’s neck. Her smirk grows as Kara’s eyelashes flutter for a moment.
“Or,” she says mischievously, giving Cat a half-second to realize what’s going to happen before Kara is pulling her down to her lap. She lands with an embarrassing oomph, because her skirt is tight and Kara’s knees are bent and spread, and so she is essentially sitting on the floor between Kara’s legs instead of where she’d much rather be astride them.
“My hero,” she says dryly, but Kara dips her head forward and catches Cat’s lips in a kiss, and when she hears the same words again in her head they are much, much warmer.
“Sorry,” Kara murmurs against Cat’s lips when they part, and she doesn’t give Cat a chance to reply before she is kissing her again, slow and deep, and much too soft.
If Kara is going to distract her—on a night without Carter in the apartment, she might add—she’s going to need to stop being so damn careful. So she parts her lips and takes Kara’s between her teeth and pulls, rougher than she would be with anyone not-bulletproof. Kara follows her motion, fingers curling into her waist as she realizes what Cat wants, and lowers her legs until she can lift Cat up and actually across her lap, legs over one of Kara's thighs.
“Well then,” Cat lets go of Kara’s lip and brushes her nose across the curve of Kara’s cheek in a moment of sentimentality. It must be contagious.
Kara breathes out a little hard and rustles Cat’s hair, but she just smirks and lets her lips trail all the way up to Kara’s ear. It’s unnecessary, of course—Kara could hear a whisper across the room. But Cat’s breath on her skin still sends a shiver through Kara, and so she murmurs, “Distract me,” as she moves Kara’s left hand from her waist to the inside of her knee.
Kara is bright and immediately her fingers disappear beneath Cat’s skirt. “Good girl,” Cat adds, and grows wetter at the way Kara’s right hand holds onto her hip tighter, pulls her impossibly closer to her body at her praise.
She wants to touch Kara, hold onto her when she feels Kara’s fingers brush against the front of her panties, undoubtedly soaked by now. “Cat,” Kara breathes, her own lips brushing Cat’s ear when she says it, and a shiver runs up her spine.
Cat tries to turn so she can start undressing Kara, anxious to have her bare against her, all of that soft skin and muscle—her mouth starts to dry at the thought. But Kara’s got her pressed against her chest, trapped with one hand sliding closer and closer to her heat, and she growls a little in frustration as she tries to sneak her hand to unbutton Kara’s shirt and can’t.
“Relax,” Kara soothes, and it just riles Cat more, makes her twist her upper body pull back to glare at Kara.
“I will in our bed,” she narrows her eyes, and doesn’t realize what she’s said until Kara’s fingers stop their ascent up her thighs. “So I can get you out of this hideous sweater,” she tries to cover, but Kara’s face has softened again, and Cat’s heart rate starts to increase at her admission.
Kara’s eyes drop down to her chest and she knows she’s been found out on a half-dozen levels. And it’s too early and she’s too old for this and Kara’s so young and they can’t possibly—
Kara kisses her again, and it’s just as slow as earlier but it’s also hard and purposeful and Cat’s hands are trapped between them, pressed against Kara’s sternum, so she digs her fingers in because she can’t do anything other than follow Kara’s mouth.
“After,” Kara says when she breaks their kiss, and holds Cat’s eyes as she finally, finally slips her fingers beneath Cat’s panties and against her clit.
Cat bites her lip at the touch, firm and a little rough—perfect—and her eyes flutter closed as she grinds her hips into Kara’s touch. It’s awkward, she’s half-twisted against Kara’s chest and over her lap and she’s already feeling burn in abdominal muscles she doesn’t use regularly.
“Look at me,” Kara says—demands, though it is soft—and Cat is past the point of caring that she obeys so easily. “Do you want me to take you to our bed?” she asks, and by the end of the question her bravado is gone, always fleeting, but Cat is enjoying watching her grow more confident every day.
Besides, the question works, because hearing Kara repeat back her presumptuous words spurs her hips on, makes her nails dig into Kara’s button-up beneath her cardigan. The fabric is light under her hands, and she holds Kara’s eyes as she tugs until she feels at least one button pop.
It’s petty and misplaced and utterly her, but she wants to cause a little ruin for the way Kara keeps reminding her that this thing between them is real now. That she wants it to be real when every logical part of her knows how poorly this could—will—end.
“Or would you like me to keep going?” Kara asks, and her voice is light like she’s noticed she’s losing Cat to deeper thoughts like she’s sometimes prone. And because Kara is perfect she knows exactly where to kiss Cat, how to scrape her teeth below her ear and dig into her hip and add more pressure between her legs.
Kara’s fingers slip down, teasing Cat’s entrance and then sliding back up to rub circles on her clit. Kara moves before any real pressure can build, working Cat up over and over until she is pulled out of her deeper thoughts completely and all she can do is make choked little Ka-ras in the back of her throat.
And then Kara’s hand is gone and she’s lifting Cat—effortlessly, of course—and settling her down on the floor. “Are you kidding me?” Cat tries to hiss the question but she’s breathless and frustrated and ready to come and so it sounds pathetic.
“Shhhh,” Kara is smiling as she pulls Cat’s knees up, kneeling between her legs, Cat on her back in front of her.
“I’m not—” Cat’s words catch in her throat as Kara pushes her skirt up to her waist, and pulls her panties down her legs to drop to the floor. “I’m not your age, Kara,” this time she does hiss, but it’s mostly due to Kara’s tongue on her ankle, her calf, the inside of her knee. “Or an alien.”
She’s trying not to say what they both know, but she’s twice Kara’s age and having sex on the hard floor is not going to make her feel any younger.
“Shhh,” Kara presses the sound against her inner thigh, and Cat tries very hard to hold onto her resolve. Fails when Kara starts tugging at her blouse blindly.
And because she knows from past experience that Kara will accidentally tear it without assistance—and because she wants Kara’s fingers on her breasts, wants her to tug at her already hard nipples—she lets her argument die on her lips and undoes the buttons quickly.
She leans up a little to shrug out of the top, and before she can lean back down Kara is leaning over her, pulling her close and popping the hooks on her bra to let it fall to the ground, too.
Kara lowers her back slowly, with one hand on her upper back as her mouth settles over her throat. She leaves hot kisses in a trail until she reaches Cat’s sternum, and glances up before she moves to a breast, and mouths over her nipple, running her teeth over the skin until Cat’s back arches off of the carpet.
She can feel the fabric rub against her bare back as she moves against Kara’s mouth but she can’t stop, she’s too worked up from everything Kara’s done to her tonight. Cat’s been on the edge for what feels like an hour, and when she moves to Cat’s other breast, she can’t help herself.
Kara’s eyes open and she pulls back from Cat’s breast to meet her eyes just as they flutter closed, her own fingers sliding through her folds until she reaches her clit and rubs, hard.
“Cat,” Kara is breathless, sounds a little shocked, and Cat would take more pride in that reaction if she wasn’t so focused on coming. “Cat,” she repeats, and Cat can feel herself flushing at the awe in Kara’s voice then. “Please,” she says, and Cat opens her eyes in time to see Kara duck between her legs.
She tugs Cat closer, opens up her legs and gently nudges Cat’s fingers away with her nose before she replaces them with her tongue.
Cat was close, has been close, but Kara’s desire for her taste, for her body, for her sends her over almost instantly.
Kara doesn’t slow her mouth, just brings her down gently through the aftershocks, and only when Cat runs her fingers through Kara’s hair does she pull back.
Cat’s eyes are heavy, from a day of work, from worry for her son, from her girlfriend’s relentless care, and she presses the back of her hand to her forehead as she just relaxes into the carpet.
“See?” Kara asks, trying to sound smug but failing when she smiles brightly. She licks out at her bottom lip before running her thumb over it and if Cat weren’t so spent and on the floor she would lean up to kiss her.
Kara solves the problem by leaning down over her and Cat does have the strength to cup her jaw, and run her thumb over the skin there. It’s too sweet, too openly caring, but Kara’s eyes are so bright when they look down at her, her smile so wide. “I told you it’s more fun on the floor.”