fragile | clexa

seventy one

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"D'you think the bath's still warm?" Lexa asked after a while and Clarke shrugged.

"Probably. Do you want to go back?"

"No. Do you?"

"I don't think I can move my legs that far, actually," Clarke said and they both chuckled, before Clarke's finger hooked under Lexa's chin to tilt the woman's head up for a kiss. "Let me repay the favor."

"You don't have to."

"I want to, if you're okay with it."

"I don't want you to have to do anything, Clarke."

"I don't 'have to'. I get to, if you allow me," Clarke argued softly and so Lexa gave in, crumbled under the warm hands of Clarke's just a little more.

"Okay," she breathed and Clarke gave her another kiss while carefully turning Lexa on her back to straddle her. Lexa's eyes were a mix of desire and nervosity.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah," Lexa nodded. "Is it- are you sure it is for you?"

"Always."

A weak "Okay," followed. With her hands on Lexa's shoulders, Clarke kissed Lexa one last time, only a press of her lips that was packed with as much love as Clarke could fit into it. Her fingers slowly ran down Lexa's arms in the meanwhile, scanning the small scars, the tattoo, the now relaxed muscle of her biceps and triceps, the sharp edge of her elbow, the curve of her palm.

Her hands slipped into Lexa's and she could feel the few calloused spots roughly on her own palm before it sank into softness. Their fingers intertwined, Clarke's slipping between Lexa's, and Clarke gave Lexa's hand a soft squeeze.

When their hands parted again, Clarke's went on to find Lexa's stomach. She traced the muscles there too, felt their weak outline under Lexa's skin, painted by a few more pinkish scars and smooth birthmarks, felt the valley just before Lexa's hipbone and found the edges of her ribcage.

She knew all these spots blindly. She could have sculpted Lexa from marble or even just clay and shaped most of her without a muse.

For one more moment, Clarke's eyes found Lexa's, getting silent permission to explore the parts of Lexa she hadn't yet had beneath her palms and fingertips. After, Clarke's eyes dropped to Lexa's breasts, even, beautiful, soft, looking like they had been made for Clarke's hands.

As if she was handling glass, Clarke let her fingers slide up Lexa's ribs until she had reached Lexa's breasts. They did fit into her palm perfectly, and Clarke felt Lexa's nipples harden just a little more against the soft skin of her hand.

With a small smile, she pressed a kiss to each of them before, just a little hesitantly, letting her lips close around one and very gently, suck. It elicted a small gasp from Lexa and Clarke drew a few more of them out of her before she moved on.

"Can I touch you?"

Lexa nodded. "Please."

So Clarke did and learned by the second, learned by all of Lexa's sounds and movements, until she held Lexa close while her body gracefully arched, her lips apart, rested against Clarke's chest as slick warmth ran down the blonde's fingers and a silent, eyebrow-knitted oh passed Lexa's lips.

It was late. The water in the tub must've run cold by now. They couldn't have cared less.

There in this perfectly warm and soft bed, the night was gentle. The way Clarke and Lexa couldn't stop tracing each other's skin, hold onto each other, steal chaste kisses and indulge in hot, hungry ones, kiss down one another's precious body and explore the little they hadn't yet known in whatever way presented itself, it was gentle. The candle light on their skin was gentle, the swollen, kiss-stained lips and the loving, adoring sweetnesses they uttered, their gazes.