Lena is on the phone with a potential new client company’s CEO when she sees the door to her office open, and Kara Danvers peer in nervously, as though she still isn’t certain that she really is allowed to stroll in whenever she pleases. Lena gives her a smile and a small nod of her head to indicate for her to enter.
“ Xièxiè ,” Lena finishes her conversation softly as the blonde enters, hanging up her phone and saving the open document on her computer. Kara quirks an eyebrow curiously in a way that makes Lena’s stomach squirm.
“You speak Chinese?” the reporter asks her once she is sure that her conversation is over, intrigue and a touch of wonder lilt her voice, “That’s very impressive.” The pureness that is Kara Danvers, ball of sunshine, optimist, is a refreshing change to Lena’s day any time that she visits. Lena lets her shoulders relax and closes her laptop, running her hand over the cold surface of her desk.
“Good ear. I speak french and spanish too, a standard part of a Luthor education, but Chinese was something I took up of my own volition in College. Do you speak any other languages Kara?” She asks as she reaches over to pour Kara a glass of water, and watches the blonde’s hand reach up and adjust her glasses as she goes to speak, a quirk that is so intrinsically Kara it at once makes Lena feel at ease and equally makes something in her chest flutter nervously.
“Well, Kryptonian, french, a little italian…” She starts to rattle off before she seems to stop, flush, and her pupils dilate with panic for a second, oddly, before she stutters, “Y-you know.” Lena sits up straighter.
“Did you say Kryptonian?” The dusky rose in Kara’s cheeks seems to darken but she nods her head, expression suddenly changed to one of resolve as she fiddles with her pen and notepad.
“Well, Supergirl taught me, you know, so that we can speak without risking being, erm, overhead. When she gives me interviews.” She looks chuffed at the turn around, but then looks to Lena uncertainly, waiting for a response.
“Interesting,” the CEO replies with a slow nod, “Fascinating, really. You will have to teach me some time. I have always loved learning languages. I may have to put Arabic to a side, and make Kryptonian my next conquest. If you’ll be my tutor, of course,” It isn’t intentional, but Lena finds her tone flirtatious as she replies, and she can’t regret it at all when Kara ducks her head in the most adorably sheepish way, and then gives her a beaming smile when she looks back up, flustered but excited.
“I-I’d love to. I mean, I’m probably not the um, best teacher. Like I said, I only learnt from uhm Supergirl, but- sure. I mean, I’d love to.”
Lena loves that Kara is in her own way enthusiastically nerdy, as much as Lena is.
Only a week later Jess delivers a package to her desk with a small smile. There’s no return address, and Lena calls out as the girl goes to leave, “Jess, who is this from?” nervous anxiety just brushing the last syllable up into a higher octave, despite her efforts not to let it show. Her thoughts instantly go to the worst possible scenario, is it from Lex? Who else would possibly send her anything? Perhaps this is his next attempt on her life.
“Miss Danvers left it for you.” Lena lets out a breath and nods.
“Thank you, that will be all.”
She gently opens up the cardboard box. She should have recognised the handwriting on the top, the sweetly graceful way that the pen ink loops through her name. When she undoes the loops of curled ribbon and gently unfolds the soft pink tissue paper, how Kara , she finds a book titled ‘Kryptonian 101’, which Kara has very obviously made herself. Lena flips through the pages and finds herself grinning, her teeth dragging over her bottom lip, when she sees that Kara has put together a beginner's guide to Kryptonian just for her, and it is the sweetest and nerdiest thing possible. Sometimes the reporter makes it very hard for Lena to remember where the line is between friends and something more.
Lena is a quick study, Kara quickly finds, but needs help with her pronunciation. She had showed off how well her lips, her tongue, could so fluidly, so easily, twist around long french phrases with the lazy drawl of someone who’d grown up leisurely walking the streets of Paris. And Kara had felt herself blush as she listened to the fast, exotic tones of something in Spanish that she was sure sounded flirtatious, but could well have been anything at all. Lena had refused to translate it for her. But even sweet Kara couldn’t bite back an infectious giggle when Lena tried her hand at a Kryptonian word. Who wouldn’t struggle, considering Kryptonian is literally an alien language. Human tongues don’t naturally take to it’s starkly different tones, the way that their mouths have to move around the consonants and vowels.
It’s a surprisingly quiet Sunday night when Lena arrives at her apartment. As Kara goes to answer the door she can’t help but feel her stomach drop for a moment when she remembers the way Lena had murmured, “ I look forward to our tutoring session ,” before they parted ways last, her eyes dark, her deep red lips upturned. Something about her tone had made Kara shiver, in a not entirely unpleasant way, and the blonde had almost walked into the doorway before blinking and stumbling out of the room. Now she takes a breath, and places her hand on the door knob. She can hear Lena on the other side, fidgeting nervously with her dog eared copy of Kryptonian 101.
“Lena, hi, come in,” Kara greets cheerfully as she swings the door open. The CEO gives her a composed but welcoming smile as she enters Kara’s apartment, which pushes up into an unrestrained grin when she sees the ‘study corner’ which Kara has set up at her dining table.
“Kara,” Lena hums her name gently, in a chiding and yet thankful way, “You did not have to-” But Kara cuts her off shaking her head and steering Lena towards the table, hand resting softly against the small of her back. When she pulls away Lena can feel the warm imprint of where her fingers lay, and she clasps her hands against the back of one of the wooden dining chairs and reminds herself why she’s really here.
It doesn’t help, the way Kara speaks Kryptonian. Nor the fact that Lena has spent the last hour concentrating on her mouth, the way she speaks, the way her tongue gauges out the centre of the words, the movement of her lips. It is so incredibly hot . She blinks at the realization but can’t seem to get rid of it once it has surfaced. It’s the way that Kara speaks, the tone of her voice so different, the guttural sound of the words.
Maybe the distraction of thinking about Kara’s mouth is what stops her from wondering how Kara speaks Kryptonian so well.
Her light laugh, like bells, fills the apartment for the third time in as many minutes when Lena gives up halfway through the short sentence and groans.
“Am I ever going to get this?” She pouts at the blonde forlornly and Kara gives her a sympathetic smile, and reaches up to softly brush a stray strand of hair away from Lena’s face. Her fingertips ghost against the CEO’s cheek, trailing a warm blush in their wake. Lena knows this is just Kara being Kara, sweet and concerned and caring and touchy, with the innocence of having no idea the effect that she has.
“It just takes time,” the blonde says softly, “ vot dehdh ,” retracting her hand and readjusting her glasses, “Kryptonian is not an easy language, but you’re incredibly intelligent Lena, if anyone can learn this you can.” Kara compliments her easily, as always. Lena wants to say something back, but the words are caught on the tip of her tongue. She knows the word, nahkluv, but is trying to remember how Kara’s tongue rangles the h-k-l transition, when the blonde reaches across the table for the pink box of donuts and extricates one. “ Study snacks ,” Kara had explained nonchalantly of the large dozen box, “Did you want something as well? I’m sure I have some other snacks in the cupboard.” Lena could only laugh and shake her head softly. Now Kara takes a bite out of a jelly donut, and Lena is quickly distracted by the way the icing sugar sticks to her nose and the reporter is completely oblivious. The deep red jelly insides begin to ooze, and Kara moves quickly to scoop it up with her tongue. Lena can feel her cheeks reddening as she watches, heat flushing her face and up the back of her neck.
“ Nahkluv ,” she murmurs, without overthinking it for once, and Kara is quick to beam at her excitedly, swallowing the large mouthful of donut faster than should be advisable.
“Lena,” she squeals, “That was perfect. And you are welcome, by the way.”
Kara hates that teaching Lena Kryptonian always seems to fall down the list, behind her work as a reporter, being supergirl, and Lena’s busy life as CEO of a major corporation. Lena hates it too.
It’s a stolen moment after a long day of meetings for Lena, and reporting and oh you know, saving the city, for Kara. Kara stops by Lena’s office (after having done a quick fly past to confirm the CEO is still at work) and finds Lena is flicking through her Kryptonian book, practising obviously, her eyebrows furrowed as she concentrates. Kara would never admit that she loves these glimpses of Lena when her guard is down, one hand scrunched in her dark hair which falls in soft, loose curls over her shoulders.
“Would you like some help with that?” She asks, her voice coming out surprisingly soft and somewhat breathless. She clears her throat, embarrassed, as Lena looks up, blood rushing to her cheeks as she gives Kara a smile. The office lighting plays across the CEO’s pale skin, her blushing cheeks, catching in her eyes.
“Kara,” she greets gladly, letting her fingers rake the rest of the way through her tresses, and placing her hand on the desk as if to steady herself, “What a pleasant surprise.” (Sometimes she does feel like she has to steady herself, to anchor herself, when Kara is close by, the girls magnetic pull drawing her in).
Lena’s high heels are kicked off on the floor, her stocking clad feet curled up underneath her on the lounge in her office, one arm over the back as she faces Kara. The blonde leans over, finger tracing over the page, and her ringlets bounce around her face and disperse the scent of violets and wild flowers into the air.
“Give me an example,” she suggests, looking back up to find those pale green eyes closer than she thought. Lena swallows thickly, but doesn’t break her gaze.
“What’s the word for love again?” she asks almost shyly, though her stare is emboldened, unblinking. Kara readjusts her glasses, but doesn’t pull back.
“It depends on the context,” she begins slowly, “ Shovuh is used for non-romantic non-familial love, like between friends, or perhaps to say that you love your cat,” this makes Lena giggle, and the tension eases but does not dissipate, “ Ukiem is used for familial love, like I would say rip çæp ukiem to Alex. And, uhm, zhao is used for romantic or erotic love.” Lena bites her bottom lip, dragging her teeth over the skin slowly.
“Is there a word in Kryptonian for crush?” she asks huskily. Kara runs the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip for a moment in response, pondering, before carefully replying.
“No, I guess there isn’t. That’s funny, I never really thought about it. Perhaps Kryptonians feel too passionately, it’s all or nothing.”
Cold air whispers around her shoulders as Lena leans against the edge of her balcony, wine glass perched on the railing delicately as she runs a finger around the rim. She places her hand around the bottom of the glass, cupping its weight, and takes a long sip, the rich mulled taste of wine rushing down the back of her throat as she listens to sirens somewhere down in the streets below. She closes her eyes and thinks of Supergirl, rushing in to save the day, blonde hair and red cape whipping behind her in the cold night. That chagrin, and that heroic smile. She almost doesn’t notice the gentle thud of feet landing on the tiles behind her.
“Long night, miss Luthor?” a voice asks. What is it about Supergirl that is one part mysterious, deeply stoic, her eyes so filled with that wisdom that only one who has suffered great loss can carry, and yet one part is something entirely else, something so human, so girlish, that grin she gives only Lena that bursts past her heroely exterior, and sings of a child like joy. Her tone in this sentence is all of the above personified, mysterious in its calm confidence, and yet lilted with amusement as she watches the CEO turn, almost dropping her wine glass in surprise but catching herself and straightening. Lena smooths her dress with her free hand, and finds her shoulders rise without meaning to.
“Supergirl,” she greets the hero calmly, in her best attempt to hide her almost clumsy moment, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I was in the neighbourhood,” Supergirl gives a casual shrug, hands propped on her hips as she looks Lena up and down, “I’m sorry, you look tired, I won't disturb you too long. I guess I just wanted to say hello.”
“You aren’t disturbing me at all,” Lena insists, with a shake of her head and a flippant wave of her free hand, moving away from the balcony edge, “in fact, I was just thinking about you,” she admits. Supergirls frowns slightly, her strong stance faltering.
“Could I ask you a question. Or more, for your assistance with something?” Lena gently swirls the remaining liquid in her glass with a light flick of her wrist, watching the dark red drink rise up the sides, almost reaching the rim.
“Of course,” Supergirl replies, the genuineness of her tone making Lena smile and she glances back up into the hero's eyes.
“I’m not sure if Kara told you, that she has been teaching me Kryptonian,” she begins, and sees Supergirl blink, but then give a nod to continue, “I want to say something, but no matter how hard I try to practice, I don’t think I am getting the pronunciation right. Or maybe I’m just starting to overthink it, I’m not really sure anymore. Would you help me?” Supergirl lets her first thought (why wouldn’t you ask Kara?) slide, buries it at the back of her mind, with the other pondering unanswered questions she has about Lena Luthor. Things she thinks would be overstepping her bounds to ask, either as Kara or as Supergirl. Things that play across her unfiltered mind when she lays awake at night. Instead she breaks into a broad smile.
“Of course, Lena, I would be happy to. I miss speaking it, sometimes,” she admits softly, somewhat sheepishly, as though she isn’t sure she should say that out loud “It’s nice, to be able to use it again with someone. W-with Kara, you know.” Her eyes gaze up for a moment, into the velvet sky, up through the constellations gently twinkling above their heads. Lena finds her shoulders relax, and she bites the inside her her cheek nervously. How did she never think of that? How odd to come to another planet, with another language, and have to give up your language of birth almost entirely. Who would Supergirl ever have to speak to in Kryptonian? Somehow she can’t imagine her and superman having long catch up calls in their native tongue. All those years, unused, it would have slowly been growing fainter. No wonder Kara, sweet Kara, had taken it up.
“I’m sorry,” Lena replies, her hand reaching out without thinking and grazing the strong material of Supergirls suit along her firm forearm. She thinks of reaching out to touch Kara’s arm, how her fingers ghost against the soft skin as she quickly drops her hand away again. Why does this moment echo that. Supergirl shakes her head, coming back down to earth, and that grin is back, the one that Lena feels is reserved only for her.
“Don’t be. Now, what is it you want to say?” she asks eagerly. The CEO takes a breath and licks her lips before she speaks, trying not to be nervous. However speaking to Supergirl in Kryptonian is incredibly nerve wracking, somewhat akin to the first time she decided to whip out her Chinese with a visiting business man that Lex was trying to strike a deal with, and yet not really much like that. She still remembers Lex’s frown, and the business man’s appreciative smile for her somewhat clunky attempt. No this is nothing like that, that day her stomach was mildly queasy, not fluttering and twisting like this now.
“ Nahn rip zrhueiao ,” (you are beautiful) Lena replies slowly, trying to concentrate on each syllable. She thinks of Kara’s pink lips, the way they push the z out of her mouth, the roll of her tongue on the r in rip, almost Spanish and yet not at all. When she looks to Supergirl shyly, waiting for her evaluation, her critique, her pointers, she finds the hero quiet and curiously perplexed, her cheeks softly pink.
“Erhm, I mean, that was-” the blonde raises a hand to her face, and grasps at nothing awkwardly, before running a hand through her hair, “It was perfect, Lena. Honestly. I’m, very impressed. But uhm, why that sentence, if you don’t mind my asking?” Lena reddens, but doesn’t look away. She could say the truth, that this is what she wants to tell Kara. Tell her and have her know that she means it. In english it sounds like a flippant remark. Anyone could, and probably does, tell Kara she is beautiful every day. Lena thinks, hopes , that in Kryptonian it would mean something more. But the way that Supergirl's eyes watch her intensely, she finds herself stammering;
“It might be of use? You know, should I ever need to win over any aliens.”
And maybe, without really realising, that’s when it starts to set within her head. Because for all the doubts and questions and curiosity, for all of the coincidences and ponderings, the thing that finally, truly makes Lena subconsciously think that maybe, just maybe, they really are one and the same, is the way she finds herself pulled towards Supergirl, untethered, and magnetic, in the way that only Kara Danvers can make her feel.
“Can I ask you a question?” Kara asks one night, not looking her in the eye as she speaks. They’re in Kara’s apartment, on opposite ends of the couch. Lena wants to move closer, but doesn’t want to overstep her bounds. Your only friend in National City , she reminds herself. She watches the blonde curiously, perching a glass of wine in her hand as Kara waits for a response.
“Anything you would like,” Lena replies easily, before taking a sip.
“Are you learning Kryptonian to impress Supergirl?” the reporter half whispers the question so fast that the ends of each word bump the beginning of the next, and casts her gaze further downwards to her feet crossed underneath her to hide her rosy cheeks behind her hair. Lena almost chokes on her mouthful of wine, surprised, and somewhat amused.
“What makes you say that?” she asks, letting the cold foot of her glass rest against her bare thigh where her dress has ridden up. Work dresses don’t make the best study clothes, she has discovered, but often she simply doesn’t have time to change. Kara opens her mouth slowly, looking thoughtful, as though more delicately considering her words this time.
“Well… why else would you bother?” the blonde chances a glance up at her, insecurity etched in her expression. Lena has to remind herself that one of Kara’s most frustrating and yet endearing qualities if her total lack of self awareness when it comes to how other people feel about her. Just when she starts to wonder if Kara knows,if she notices her lingering glances and not so subtle flirtatious tone. She lets out a small sigh and wiggles over a little on the couch, till she can reach across the barrier of books and stationary between them, to lay her hand tentatively across Kara’s.
“Perhaps I was looking for an excuse to spend a little more time with a certain reporter,” she replies more truthfully than she had meant to. She sees the blood rise in Kara’s cheeks, and the hears the soft hitch in her breath, and pulls her hands away. Perhaps she was right, maybe the blonde does have an inkling.
“Besides, I wasn’t lying when I said that I was a language fanatic. Chacun voit midi à sa porte ,” she gives a light shrug as she slips delicately into french, and then looks up and gives Kara a smirk. She loves the look on the blonde’s face when she throws other languages into their conversations now, that awe that twinkles in her eyes. Similar to the look that Kara gives her when she starts to talk science. When it is french, she sees the reporter furrow her brow in concentration, translating it in her head. She’s actually quite good for someone who “took some french in high school”.
“Everyone watches midday at their door?” Kara is shaking her head in confusion, “Wait, that doesn’t make sense.”
“It literally translates as; Everyone sees noon at his own door. It’s a french saying, similar in concept to our; to each his own," Lena explains. Kara nods, and then breaks into a signature Kara grin, the kind that makes Lena’s stomach twist.
“Gosh, you are really smart,” she gushes, her petite hands reaching out and brushing over the back of Lena’s, “Say something in Spanish again.” Occasionally this is a game that Kara likes to play, when they see each other or via text or over the phone. Lena thinks for a moment, Spanish and Chinese are funner to use with Kara than French as she can’t decipher what they mean. Maybe it makes her feel bolder, as though she can say anything to Kara without having to suffer the repercussions. That is as long as she can resist the pout that the blonde uses to try and get her way.
“ Perdona si te llamo amor .” She watches Kara flush under her stare as she speaks, and her hand seems to settle where it had been hovering over Lena’s knee. Her thumb brushes over the small heart shaped scar that Lena has had since she was eight, tracing around its edge.
“Say something in Kryptonian,” she encourages softly.
Somehow the apartment feels smaller, darker and more intimate as Kara watches her, waits to see what she will say. She chews over the bottom lip nervously, pushing down the feeling in her stomach.
“ Na -” But the ringing of a phone makes them both jump, and soon Kara is scrambling to find her mobile, digging through her handbag and pulling it out. She excuses herself into the hallway to take the call, looking more off kilter than normal, more flustered as she stumbles clumsily past the couch. Lena lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, leaning back into the cushions. She somehow isn’t surprised that Kara has ‘a minor family emergency’ to attend to at 11:00pm on a week night out of the blue.
Back in her apartment she finds herself on her balcony again, clutching her silk robe tighter around her chest, listening to the sirens and sounds of the city below, and hoping that Supergirl is safe.
“Say something innnnnn Chinese,” Kara instructs sleepily, her words drawling with the weight of her tongue. She is lying in bed with her phone sandwiched between her head and her pillow. She can hear Lena’s breath down the line, the silent chuckle, before she presses her lips together and thinks.
“ Nǐ xiāngxìn mìngyùn ma ?” she asks softly. Kara listens to the tonal rises and falls of the words, the careful way the Lena pronounces them, the preciseness. She loves the sound of the CEOs voice in any language. Tonight it is the only thing that can calm her mind, after the night that Supergirl has had, the battle she has fought. She opens her eyes again and gazes out the window, through the blinds, to the crescent moon hanging low in the sky.
“What does that mean?” her voice is huskier than normal. Lena doesn’t question it. She doesn’t question anything, just gives Kara what she needs.
“It means, ‘Do you believe in destiny?’” the underlying intensity of it sits low in Lena’s words. It makes Kara’s skin feel warm, her stomach drop. She reaches her hand up in the dark and traces the constellations by heart like a join the dots, and she knows that Lena is waiting for an answer. She thinks of her life, about her parents, about arriving on earth. She thinks about Clark, and about the Danvers, and the path that has lead her here. She thinks of her warm mother, her protective sister, her time at CatCo, her friends, about being the hero of National City and she knows without a doubt what her answer is.
“Yes. Do you?” Lena hums for a second thoughtfully.
“I didn’t used to.” And it is unsaid, the end of the sentence, but somehow Kara feels it intuitively, and she’s not quite sure how it makes her feel, but suddenly the covers are too warm and she pushes them off and sighs softly into the receiver. Her pyjama shirt rides up, and exposes her taut midriff to the night air.
“Do you ever think about what your life might have been like?” Kara asks. She knows that Lena knows what she means. The CEO is quiet, but Kara feels as though she can hear the roar of thoughts in her head. Lena’s fingers drum against the desk she is still sitting at, far too late, and she gives a strained sigh.
“How can anyone not?” That is fair enough, but a generalised statement. Kara doesn’t often push this subject with Lena, but tonight, half asleep, she seems to speak before she can think to stop herself.
“ You , more than anyone perhaps?”
“When I was younger, I really didn’t so much. I had a father who adored me, and a sweet, protective older brother who watched out for me, and I finally felt wanted somewhere. But perhaps, over time, that has changed. When Lex…” she trails off and clears her throat, “and with my father gone, and my mother- Well, I can’t say I haven’t wondered. But other things, more recently, have made me realise that I don’t think I would have it any other way,” there is a gentle resolution to her voice, like an acceptance that weighs down her words. The curiosity in Kara bubbles over.
“Like, becoming the CEO of L Corp?” she ponders.
“And meeting you , Kara.”
“Oh,” the blonde replies, “Thank you?” Lena laughs at this, and she can imagine the CEO shaking her head ruefully. She frowns, trying to think of something better to say, when a yawn overtakes her, and she remembers how long her day has been, how hard she has worked, the weight of her body sinking down into the mattress.
“ Fais de beaux rêves, ” Lena whispers, (sweet dreams) knowing without Kara needing to say a word that she is growing too tired to keep talking, and Kara imagines that she can feel the words warm against her cheek. She gives another, more defeated sigh, as she lets her eyelids fall closed again. And she imagines that she is falling through the stars, flying amongst them, nothing but the rich darkness of a summer night and an endless maze of stars around her, always twinkling brightly but too far to touch.
She hears the soft beep against her ear of Lena hanging up, and pushes the phone away from her face, where she was clutching it against the pillow. She feels the cool breeze brush over her exposed stomach, and she thinks of Lena’s hands, and she thinks of her sharp tongue, and her stomach fills with an indescribable heat. And she is glad that Lena is no longer listening, because she knows that even in Kryptonian the CEO would understand what she is whispering under her breath when she falls back asleep.
“ rip çæp sem, Lena. ”
The next time Lena sees Kara she can tell something is off, but she can’t put her finger on what it is. She appears to be more in her head than ever before. They are in Lena’s apartment, in her rarely used study overlooking the city, and the CEO has pulled her chair up right next to Kara’s, to watch as she shows her how to write in Kryptonian. When she leans closer, pressing against Kara’s arm, out of the corner of her eye she see the reporter turn bright red beneath the dark rims of her glasses, her words faltering for a moment. Flustered Kara is incredibly sexy, and Lena has to remind herself to remain on her best behaviour.
“Kara, would you like a drink of water? You look a little warm,” she comments flippantly as she carefully copies on her own page the curve of the letter, the flick of the tail. Kara blinks and stammers.
“Erm, no no I’m fine, really.” She clears her throat and readjusts her glasses, watching closely as Lena moves on to the next letter. She moves her hand to rest over the CEO’s, her touch gentle as she guides her, and Lena can feel every inch of their contact, the hairs along her arms standing on end. Heat hits the back of her neck and blooms in her cheeks, and she feels the pen slip from her hand, drawing a messy line across the page, but Kara’s hand doesn’t move from hers.
“Lena?” the blonde's voice is cautious and soft behind her, and Lena turns her head, finding her face close to the blondes. Her breathe frosts the bottom of Kara’s glasses, and without thinking she finds herself leaning forward, reaching a hand up to gently remove them. She places them down on the desk, and brushes back a wisp of hair from the other woman’s face. Kara looks into her eyes shyly and gives her a small smile, and she can’t help it, swallowing thickly and pressing a kiss to the reporters mouth. Her lips capture Kara’s nervously, clumsily, and she feels Kara’s urgency as she returns the kiss, her other hand coming up to rest at the nape of Lena’s neck, pulling her in closer. Kara feels warm all over, there is heat under her skin like fire and it leaves an ebbing trail of warmth across Lena’s skin everywhere she touches. Her tongue brushes the CEO’s, and Lena pulls back, breathless, her eyes closed and her teeth biting her bottom lip hard, as though trying to restrain herself.
“Are you- are you sure?” she asks, looking Kara in the eye, her breath ragged, her heart pounding against her rib cage. Kara’s eyes glance down towards the CEO’s chest, and the blonde lets her hand slide down the back of Lena’s neck, over her collar done (fingers tracing their length) to rest against her rib cage, till she can feel her heart beat against her palm.
“I trust you, Lena. Rip çæp shahr. ” Kara’s voice is sincere and resolute, and Lena lets her nervous lip bite melt into a smile, before kissing her again.
Lena runs her hands softly through Kara’s hair, fingers tangling in the perfect ringlets. The blonde is curled against her side, head nestled into the crook of her neck and lips just brushing the top of her collarbone each time the reporter takes a breath. Everywhere that the Kara’s lean form presses against Lena’s bare skin, she can feel the warmth radiating off of the blonde like a heater.
“How do you say, that was amazing, in Kryptonian?” she asks softly, and feels her heart swell at the giggle that erupts from under her chin. Kara looks up at her, with the confidence of Supergirl and the sweet adoration of Kara Danvers, and places a kiss against her jaw line. It starts out as chaste, but then Kara lets her lips drag lightly over Lena’s skin, down onto her neck, mouth capturing the CEO’s pulse point and sucking gently until she hears Lena let out a small, raspy gasp. Lena’s skin tastes of salt, and she swirls the tip of her tongue over the hickey she has just left, and revels in the way it makes Lena shiver against her. When she pulls back, to look down at the other woman underneath her, she sees Lena chewing over her bottom lip thoughtfully. It’s her look of wanting to say something, but holding herself back. Kara props herself up on her elbows to lean over Lena, those golden ringlets falling down like a curtain around them, and shifts so that she is on top of the CEO, one leg slipping between hers so that her upper thigh is just slightly applying pressure against her. She hears the ripple in Lena’s breath.
“What did I do to deserve you?” Kara asks, grinning down as she rubs her thumb over Lena’s cheek. She sees the CEO realease her lip, and let out a small sigh, her hand coming to rest against the small of Kara’s back. Her hand traces the soft curve of her hip bones gently.
”Rip çæp zhao, Kara.” Once the words are out of her mouth Lena cheeks stain red, and Kara can almost feel the other woman’s stomach drop nervously, her eyes glancing away across the wrinkled sheets of the bed. When she looks back up Kara is smiling down at her sadly, her gentle green eyes swimming on the brink of tears, and feel so stupid, until Kara leans down and presses a meaningful kiss against her mouth. A salty kiss, wet with a stray tear or two. When the blonde pulls back again she presses her forehead gently against Lena’s and lets out a shaky breath.
“Is that why you wanted to learn Kryptonian?” she whispers, with a wry smile, and Lena looks up at her adoringly, “You don’t know how much that means to me.” But Lena thinks maybe she does.