It starts on a game night unlike any other, because this time, in what Kara is narrating to the bored audience of three as the plot twist of the century, Lena is losing.
Lena, Kara realized very early on in their friendship, is extremely serious about game night. She will not play Monopoly unless everyone promises not to tap out out of boredom. The vein in her forehead will throb when paired with Brainy for charades. She will dust off her yoga mat the day before to stretch her muscles for twister.
All this is to say that Lena hates, hates, losing. If there is one thing that she hates even more, it’s losing in front of an audience- and not just any audience, but Nia, Sam, and Winn, who will tease her mercilessly for it.
Alex is rapidly draining Lena’s money from the plethora of traintracks which Lena, by some ill stroke of luck, keeps landing on over and over again, having to pay 200 dollars each time, and she wastes no energy trying to hide her smug delight, her evil cackling rivalling Lex’s. Lena’s all huffy and annoyed despite her best attempts to hide it when she finally succumbs into bankruptcy.
“Aw, it’s okay baby.” Kara throws an arm around Lena’s shoulder to pull her in for a sidehug, but Lena doesn’t melt into it- instead she stiffens, aiming a deeply unsettling glare at Kara.
“Do not call me that.”
Sam is now openly laughing at Lena’s lousy sportsmanship and Winn is doing some sort of jig with a wicked grin. Kara, for her part, can not for the life of her remember whether she’s called Lena baby before now.
A part of her is sure that she has, and that Lena had taken it well- lit up, even, and gone soft in that play-reluctant way of hers that Kara loves. But the other part, the forgetful one, the one that had been daydreaming of scenarios similar to this one for years before Lena and her recently started dating, isn’t so sure.
No petnames, noted, she thinks, and soon forgets about it.
Lena’s bruised ego is soothed by her subsequent wins in pictionary and hungry hippo, and she ends up eagerly staying over. They have a wonderful night, and a wonderful morning. It’s a flurry of heartbearts and all those feelings that people attribute to the honeymoon phase but which Kara thinks will probably be for forever, because she’s been getting the same butterflies since the day she met Lena all those years ago.
So it’s really odd when, sometime during Lena’s stay, her mood shifts.
It’s not the first time it’s happened. Usually if she’s bothered by something serious she tries to hide it and act like nothing’s wrong, but when it’s something silly, like starting the day with a bad cup of coffee, or Andrea missing one of their weekly lunches, it renders her heavy footed, frowny, silently begging for Kara to ask what is wrong and fix it with a hug or a forehead kiss.
Kara is bemused and half worried that Lena’s heavy steps would break that one rickety floorboard in her kitchen. She approaches Lena from behind and molds herself to her back.
Lena melts, her grip on the tea box easing. Kara’s heart starts fluttering rapidly the way it’s been doing each time they’re physically close. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she says.
Lena’s grip tightens around the tea bag like she’s gathering the strength to send her away. Kara sneaks her hand under her shirt, warm hand splaying over her tummy. She kisses the back of her neck, nuzzling the skin. “Tell me. Please?”
Lena turns around and kisses her. Kara doesn’t so much allow herself to be distracted by it as she is swept into it. Lena tastes like the tea she was replenishing, feels like heaven, and before Kara knows it she has Lena perched on the counter and is pressing herself as closely as she can between her legs, sucking the last hint of sweetness straight off Lena’s tongue.
Her brain catches up and she pulls back, fingers gently weaving through Lena’s hair to stop her from following. It takes a few more kisses and soft touches to coax the answer out of Lena, and when it finally comes it’s so sweet- Kara will never forget the shy drag of Lena’s nose along her cheek where she chose to hide her face, or the agonizing preciousness of having to urge the words out of her, or the way she made Kara’s heart flip-flop in her chest in a display that would’ve been the highlight of the Olympics.
“What did you say?” Kara asks, and Lena whines at having to repeat herself.
“You stopped calling me baby.”
Kara knew it. She knew Lena loved it when she called her that, but the vehemence with which Lena reacted to it on game night confused her.
“I thought you hated it?”
Lena’s nail scratches down Kara’s shoulder, slipping under her collar. “Not when we’re alone.”
Kara grins. She loves having like Lena like this- more bossy, more affectionate, more playful, more everything that Kara loves about her. It’s as if she’s finally getting to see the full scope of Lena Luthor. She knows that it’s harder for Lena to show her good side than it is her bad, and she is honored, so honored.
“Just for me?” she asks, teasing, and Lena huffs, her expression souring.
One baby is all it takes to fix it. Kara adds an I love you for extra measures.
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