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Language:
English
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Published:
2021-02-04
Words:
770
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
22
Kudos:
209
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21
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2,499

It's Becoming a Bit of a...

Summary:

"But you won’t kiss her.

It might get to be a habit, and you can’t get rid of habits.

(And where is the line, you think, between habit and addiction? Habit, routine, ritual, addiction: it does not matter ...)”

Until you do

Notes:

So I read Amelia's You Won't Kiss Her over on tumblr and the line used in the summary rattled around in my head for too long it inspired this little thing. Her's a beautiful piece of writing so go pop over to her tumblr or the ao3 link above whichever and read it (I consider it required but I suppose you don't have to) then come back here and tell me if this makes sense. Thanks for reading!

Work Text:

Habit - (n) a settled regular tendency or practice, especially one hard to give up

 

It’s shameful, almost, how easy it is to fall into practice. Like walking. One foot in front of the other. Kara’s top lip over her own. Not a puzzle piece but more gears fitting together. Once the motion is set the propulsion is undeniable. Her days move faster, easing from one kiss to the next. 

 

Mindless is more the word. Meaningful thoughtlessness. She never thought it would be this easy. A lifetime of care, precision in every notion, overthinking until it was just thinking.

 

But kissing Kara is like drinking air. Lena knows, logically, there was a moment at the very start of life where her lungs didn’t know their purpose before instinct, nature, whatever kicked in. Kissing Kara is the same. Kara’s mouth against hers is awkward and unsure and then it isn’t. It’s what Lena is made to do. Thoughtless ease in every motion. 

 

 

Routine - (n.) A sequence of actions regularly followed

 

Wake up. Good morning . Shower, dress, make-up. Coffee and goodbyes - I’ll see you later. Promise?

 

When did mornings become warm? Even when Kara’s a blur of blue, red, and gold it’s still standard procedure. Almost without fail now. 

 

It’s not really that she thinks about it. If pressed, Lena wouldn’t quite know when it started. Surely before moving in. The whole thing was well established by that point.

 

Lunch. Hi, how are you? Fine, good, great now that you’re here. Light flirting, light touches. Promises of later. Five minutes against the desk, the door, the couch, the closet…

 

She might be lying if she said she didn’t plan her days around it by now. Lena’s schedule punctuated by the flutter of a cape as Kara patrols after work, the drying print of lips on her cheek. The interworks and little things change but Lena’s internal clock ticks on with a kiss. 

 

Log out. Say goodnight to security. Drive home. Welcome back, welcome home. Are you hungry? Did you wait? For you, always.

 

 

Ritual - (n) a religious or solemn ceremony consisting of a series of actions performed according to a prescribed order

 

She’d like to make the Before into something predictable. Honestly, Lena would like to think it would help settle her. But it’s still pattern enough the way Kara’s head tilts just over her shoulder, her world pausing inertia with a breath, for her to recognize the sudden onset of dread as it prepares to soar out her window.

 

So she controls the After. The quiet greeting and soft meeting of arms around one another. The same things said, the same weary looks as she welcomes Kara further in. There’s a shower, never alone. The shedding of weight and fabric as Lena soothes every would-be wound one kiss, one nip, one kitten lick at a time and breathes in. Breathes in the reassurance of presence, of promises kept. 

 

It’s less confirmation of faith, of worship, of victory exalted. Less a celebration of the star-fallen girl of a god. Rather, Lena lays her down and mourns in relief every night. The stars gave her so much and Kara so little. It’s only right to show her reverence. 

 

 

Addiction - (n) the fact or condition of being enthusiastically devoted to a particular thing or activity

 

She’s not needy.

 

Oh, she pines certainly. Has yearned for attention for years now. Carefully kept away her cravings on the highest shelf in the closet of her heart, lest someone accidentally find her out. There’s no room in her world for emotional snacking, so to speak. 

 

She’s not needy. She’s self-sufficient. Well taught in the art of making the slightest guesses of affection last for longer than they should. She’s an expert in making do with what she’s given. Coasting off of crumbs.

 

Yet Kara leaves her unsettled. Through all their dates, their casual encounters, fly-by quickies Lena’s left wanting. The table’s been set and Lena finds she’s famished. No matter how many touches, smiles, promises she craves more. Kara’s mouth haunts her days now. Phantom presses to her cheeks and eyebrows send warmth running through her. A ghost of tongue ensures her single mindedness for the rest of her afternoon. 


So it’s not that Lena’s needy, it’s just that she itches for them now. Finds herself counting the moments between and looking forward to the next. And the next. And the next. Until Lena’s all but pulling Kara out of the air and into her own orbit. Just for the fulfillment only Kara’s kisses can bring and of the euphoria of knowing the high will never run out.