Kiss it better (karamel AU)

11

Dawn is approaching quicker than desired, but for the time being Kara's bedroom is still pleasantly dark and warm and quiet. Mon-El eases out of his slumber with a soft exhale, the sweetest kind of weariness lingering in his muscles. With a blink the night's events come rushing back. With the first conscious breath Kara's scent hits him afresh. And with a turn of his head he knows he's screwed.

She's beautiful. And so close. And he's absolutely hers for the taking, even if the same doesn't apply when the roles are reversed. A humming sound escapes her, as if she knows he's staring and she's already preparing a cunning comment. Yet she doesn't stir, doesn't look bothered. And when he lifts a hand to brush a tuft of hair aside and caress her cheek, she simply leans into the touch, instinctively perhaps, the last of her inhibitions gone since the moment her eyes shut.

He doesn't know what awaits him come morning. As well as he knows Kara, oftentimes she's a mystery, constantly surprising him and keeping him on edge. But he's gotten really good at taking what he's being given as far as she's concerned, thus he doesn't restraint himself now. His arm snakes around her middle, his body aching to be closer to hers, to savor the intimacy he will most likely be denied once the sun comes up. Her knee bends, one leg finding its way between his own and suddenly there's a hand reaching for him too. Fingers graze his shoulder blade, pulling him in. A blink, a deep inhale, a twitch of her lips and she's awake, looking at him.

"Sorry," he whispers, "didn't mean to wake you."

"What time is it?" she mumbles, her head inching back to glance out the window.

"Still too early."

"Why are you awake then?"

It's a simple question, but it makes his breath hitch in his throat. "I don't know," he says. Frantic eyes and a clenched jaw accompany the words.

"Come here," Kara tightens her grip on Mon-El when his slackens. "It's okay, come here." Arms coax him nearer, wrapping around him securely until he's surrendered.

She hugs him and he doesn't fight it, hiding his face in the crook of her neck instead, breathing her in and venturing a kiss to her neck. Her response is a kiss to his shoulder and she pulls again, closer and closer, till half of his upper body has settled atop her.

There's something about this warmth and gentleness that startles him; he didn't expect it. Because as eager and loving as she was earlier, it was part of an act. Their first time was just fucking: raw, exploring, wild. And her lips were appropriately rough, her hands uncontrollable, her sounds unrestrained, her body demanding. And then, the second time was slow and soft, pure lovemaking. But again, Kara had a role and she was all in. Encouraging words, sweet smiles, deep kisses and honest gazes. She was perfect in both cases, just as present and generous as he was. So now that the atmosphere has shifted, Mon-El isn't sure why she's still so tender with him. He can't figure out where they're standing at the moment.

"What are you thinking?" she asks, her nails scratching the back of his head lightly, calming his nerves.

"Do you regret it?"

Her motions don't stop at the question. Nonetheless, a meager sigh slips from her mouth. "No."

"I thought you would," he says and shifts back to his previous position, needing the distance in order to look at her.

"Why?"

"You barely said a word after..." he leaves it at that, failing to find the right words to finish the sentence. 'Sex' sounds fitting, but too shallow. 'Fucking' feels dirty and disrespectful, even though they both know that's what it was in the beginning. And 'making love' is too intimate and deep to be spoken aloud, crossing a line he cannot even approach, no matter how honest and intense his desire for her has always been.