2. Chapter 2(2)
When Kara doesn’t answer her for another few seconds, Lena just quirks her brow, and tries to get her sticky fingers to rearrange her hair into something less messy.
“I’m not positive I can move,” Kara says finally, her voice hoarse and eyes narrow with invitation. As if either of them could survive another round. As it is, Lena’s pretty sure she’s going to have a physical reminder of their encounter for the next week.
Lena laughs and picks up the discarded pair of pants Kara left near the foot of the bed. Tossing them at Kara’s face, she turns to exit the room. “You’re a professional athlete,” Lena comments. “I believe in you.”
--
Lena makes them both manhattans with the wet bar provided for her in the suite. Kara eyes it with a surprised arch of her brow.
“Fancy,” she comments, taking a sip and Lena smiles, bemused.
“What do you usually drink after sex?” Lena asks, leaning up against the countertop across from Kara.
“I usually sleep,” Kara answers with a quirk of her lips.
It gives Lena pause and she sets her drink down on the bar, feeling serious for a moment. “Look, Kara,” she starts and Kara clears her throat, straightening.
“I didn’t mean anything by that,” Kara says hastily before Lena can continue.
“I like you,” Lena admits softly, holding Kara’s gaze. “And we clearly have chemistry without our clothes on.”
Kara laughs, an attractive blush dusting her cheeks. “I like you too.”
Lena rolls her eyes just slightly, feeling lame, but pushes on. “Anything more than this,” she says, gesturing between them, Lena in just her underwear and a soft sleepshirt, Kara in just her crinkled pants from earlier and her sports bra. “It’s a PR nightmare waiting to happen. My company just survived everything with my brother and the Lakehawks has always been a source of good publicity. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Not to mention that my job isn’t great for relationships -”
“We’ve talked about this,” Kara interrupts softly. “At dinner.”
“That was in the abstract,” Lena says, recalling their brief conversation about dating. “This is different.”
“How?”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
“What impression would that be?”
“That this can go anywhere outside the bedroom,” Lena says, forcing herself to sound stern.
Kara laughs. “You didn’t give me that impression,” she says.
“Good,” Lena says with finality. “Then we’re clear.”
“I told you before that I don’t really do relationships either,” Kara says softly, but with a smile. “It’s just easier to…”
“I agree,” Lena says with a short laugh.
There’s a strange hopefulness on Kara’s face that Lena doesn’t know how to interpret. “So it can be this then?” Kara asks, mimicking Lena’s earlier gesture. At Lena’s confusion, Kara clarifies, “We can keep...you know…?”
Lena wants to laugh at the way Kara avoids saying anything straightforward. It’s ridiculous considering the things Kara just did to her in the bedroom or the filthy words that dropped out of her mouth. The dichotomy of the woman before her now and the one on top of her earlier is fascinating.
“If the opportunity presents itself again,” Lena agrees. “I wouldn’t be opposed.” Kara smiles a bit and Lena takes a sip of her drink before adding. “Provided I can trust your discretion.”
“I can keep a secret,” Kara says hastily, holding her hand up as if taking an oath. “I mean, I haven’t told anyone that Alex slept with Lucy last season over the Gotham trip.”
Kara’s eyes go wide as she suddenly realizes what she just disclosed and Lena raises her eyebrows at the information.
“Okay, that was a bad example,” Kara says quickly. “I swear I’m better than that.”
--
Kara leaves after they’ve finished their drinks, but not before pressing Lena against the wall near the hotel room door and kissing her goodbye as if trying to promise something.
“I’m here all weekend, you know,” Kara murmurs with the kind of suggestion Lena tries not to respond to. It doesn’t work. Her fingers clench a bit around Kara’s biceps and she kisses her again, but doesn’t reply before pushing Kara out the door. Better that than giving in to what her body is telling her to do.
Lena retreats back to the bedroom, but upon observing the disaster the bed became during their tryst, decides to sleep in a different room.
--
The next morning is spent with a series of meetings Lena had scheduled over the weekend. Breakfast with the General Managers of her hotels, a midmorning meeting with the casino managers and then lunch on her own while she answers a few e-mails and checks in on projects back in National City.
Her afternoon ends up involving putting out a fire with one of her manufacturing plants in Midway City and she calls Jack before dinner to rant about the ignorance of government bureaucrats.
“You’re in Vegas, Lena,” Jack says to her. “The city of sin. Go out and do something fun. Relax.”
“This is a business trip, Jack.”
“The idea that you can’t mix business and pleasure is highly overrated in my opinion,” Jack replies and Lena thinks of Kara - a recurring problem she seems incapable of solving.
Lena sighs. “I’m not surprised.”
Jack laughs. “Why don’t you sit at the tables tonight? You love taking money from people.”
It makes Lena chuckle a little in kind. “I’d be playing against myself,” she tells him because it’s technically true.
“That’s what makes it so fun,” he says and she rolls her eyes even if he can’t see her.
--
She decides to take Jack’s advice and heads down to the casino floor after dinner.
The high rollers tables are located in the private rooms on the back part of the casino. Lena is led to a table in a small quiet room and handed a tray of chips. It isn’t until she sits down in her chair that she notices another person at the table watching her.
In a pulled down powder blue Lakehawks baseball cap, Kara Danvers is smirking at her from across the table, her fingers idly playing with a stack of chips. It’s then she notices that two chairs down from Kara is Alex Danvers, slouched back in her chair with a neutral expression, a poker chip sliding over her fingers in an agile, but absent motion. The elder Danvers sister seems to take little notice of Lena, her eyes stuck on where the dealer is feeding a new deck into the shoe.
No words are exchanged as the dealer slides his hand over the felt of the table to indicate final bets.
--
Kara is terrible at poker.
Her tells are completely obvious to Lena, if only because her face seems incapable of not reacting to every single hand. Alex, however, is a formidable opponent who only seems to notice Lena after Lena wins the first pot and she arches a surprised eyebrow in her direction.
The stack of chips in front of Kara starts to grow smaller and smaller at a consistent pace until Alex stands up at the table. Tossing a chip to the dealer, she smiles politely at Lena before setting a hand on her sister’s shoulder.
“Try not to lose all your money tonight,” she says to Kara with a little smirk on her face and a laugh.
Kara rolls her eyes and shrugs Alex’s hand off, but she laughs too and both sisters share a smile before Alex walks off.
At that point it’s just her and Kara at the table and Kara looks over from under the brim of her hat, a chip spinning in her fingers.
They play another hand.
Kara keeps her head down as she gets dealt her cards, but Lena doesn’t need to know her expression as soon as she sees her own hand - pocket aces.
When Kara finally looks up to bet, Lena almost feels bad for her. It’s clear whatever Kara’s hand is, she’s pleased with it and that’s only confirmed when she pushes her meager stack to the middle of the table with a soft, “All in.”
She considers folding for a brief moment. There’s little possibility she’s going to lose and if she wins, Kara’s out of the game.
But there’s a deeper need she has not to concede a fight that has her counting out the right chips and sliding them next to Kara’s.
Kara smiles, takes her hat off and leans back in her chair as the dealer closes the betting and Kara flips her cards over - a pair of jacks.
Lena arches a brow. It’s not a bad hand at all, but it’s certainly not going to beat Lena’s unless the river pulls another jack.
When Lena flips over her own pair of aces, Kara laughs a little and they both watch as the dealer flips over the rest of the cards in the game - queen of diamonds, three of spades, ten of hearts, queen of clubs, six of clubs.
“I was finished anyway,” Kara says with a shrug and a smile for the table.
With a lingering look for Lena, Kara stands and nods before pacing away. The dealer looks over at Lena. “Another hand, Miss Luthor?”
She looks at where Kara is rounding the corner, another quick look over her shoulder at Lena, and she gathers her chips up. “Actually, I think I’ll cash out for the night,” she tells him.
--
Hat back on and pulled down, Kara’s loitering outside the high roller’s room signing a basketball for a young fan with their dad. She’s explaining something to the girl that involves mimicking a shooting movement, and the young girl seems enthralled by it, her face eager and open as she looks up at Kara.
Lena hovers in the periphery until the fan moves on and Kara picks her head up to spot her.
A brilliant smile crosses Kara’s face - surprising considering just how much money Lena just took from her - and she steps forward towards Lena. If the opportunity presents itself flits across her mind and she throws previous caution to the wind. If she’s going to break all her personal rules then she’s going to break them.
“I was going to go have a drink,” Lena says, the offer clear.
Kara laughs. “You just bankrupted me,” she says with a teasing smirk that has Lena’s cheeks feeling warm. “I feel like you owe me one.”
“That’s not how gambling works,” Lena jokes, but Kara shrugs.
“I can’t buy a drink anyway,” Kara says and she pulls the pockets of her jeans out demonstratively. “I’m broke now.”
“I’m sure,” Lena says dryly, crossing her arms. “Maybe if you learned how to play poker better you’d have some more cash right now.”
“You sound like Alex,” Kara laughs. “Always complaining that I suck at cards, but refusing to teach me.”
“I could teach you,” Lena offers and Kara’s eyes go a little dark.
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Seems like the perfect opportunity to learn,” she says with a soft emphasis on opportunity.
They look at each other a moment, the sounds of a busy Saturday night at the casino echoing around them before Kara says, “Maybe we could have a drink at the bar in your room.”
Lena just nods.
--
“What should we use for betting?” Kara asks after they pour drinks and make a show of avoiding the obvious reason they’ve retreated to Lena’s hotel room.
Lena shuffles the cards in her hand idly from her seat on the floor. Kara’s opposite, long legs stretched out under the coffee table as she leans back and takes a sip of her beer.
With a quirk of her brow, Lena flicks her fingers over the cards in a trick she had learned years ago from Lex. Kara’s eyes follow the motion. “We can think of something,” Lena says and Kara’s lips turn upward.
--
The cards end up strewn across the floor and thankfully they’ve finished their drinks before they get knocked over in a tangle of limbs connecting. It’s just past midnight, but Vegas is still in full swing in the enormous windows the living area looks out on. The bright lights of the Strip dance across Kara’s skin and Lena can’t help but trace them with her lips. Kara’s shirt had been discarded in the very first hand, and so the series of blues and reds and greens that make their way across her neck are unimpeded by fabric. It makes it easy to suck at the juncture of her collarbone and neck.
Kara’s body is as expressive as her face is while playing poker and Lena follows the subtle commands as she blazes a path over her collarbone, down the cut of her abs, over her hipbone. An intake of breath there, an almost-moan here.
It’s all coiled, tense muscle and power underneath Lena and it makes her dizzy when strong fingers grip at her biceps and haul her upward until they’re spinning and Kara’s on top of her.
The feeling of Kara pushing her way between her thighs makes arousal pool there and she cants her hips up, desperate for friction, for Kara to do something.
The quiet laughter that she gets in response, puffs of air against her neck under her ear, makes her flush with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. It’s a smug, confident sound and when it’s paired with the feeling of Kara’s fingers trailing up her leg, Lena has to lick the dryness of her lips.
Their kisses turn sloppy and hungry until they’re just breathing against each other’s mouths and Kara’s hips rock, her fingers push and pull and Lena’s back arches. Everything gets impossibly tight, obeying the insistent twist and curl of Kara’s hand.
Her orgasm is right there. Lena can feel it building like pressure at the base of her spine and a buzz in her thighs, but Kara halts her motion right before she tips over the edge and Lena lets out a frustrated groan that just makes Kara laugh again.
“Shhh,” Kara says, lips warm as they travel over Lena’s collarbone. “I’ll take care of you.”
And when her mouth finds its way between Lena’s legs, the frustration burns out of her at the first flick of Kara’s tongue.
--
Lena wakes up to a flurry of motion. Her back aches from a combination of the strange position she’d fallen asleep in on the couch and the way she’s just been fucked by an athlete with a good deal of endurance for an hour or two. There’s a blanket half on her and half on the floor, clearly kicked loose by the whirling dervish of activity that’s woken her.
Kara’s trying to jump into her jeans and is hopping unsteadily with only one leg inside them as of yet. Propping an elbow up onto the cushion, Lena sits up and pulls the blanket up her chest. “Hey,” she says, her voice croaking a bit with sleep and strain.
“Hi,” Kara says, her voice just as hoarse and sleepy, but she doesn’t look over, just gets her other leg into her pants and scrambles around looking for --- her shirt most likely.
“In a hurry?”
It’s still dark outside, that much Lena can tell, but she’s not entirely sure what time it is. It’s hard to do the math and figure it out - it seems as though her usual mastery of time disappears in Kara Danvers’ presence.
Kara finds her shirt and pulls it on, buttoning it hastily and finally looking Lena’s direction. “Yeah, sorry if I woke you up. I’m going to be so late to team breakfast and I’m pretty sure Cat will kill me if she finds out.”
Lena feels something akin to affection rush through her as Kara moves quickly through her space and hums, sits up more fully and runs her fingers through her tangled hair. The blanket drops off her chest and Kara’s fingers freeze where they’re fiddling with the bottom button of her shirt.
“Thanks. I should move to a bed before I get permanent back damage, though,” Lena says with a wry laugh. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
Kara laughs, a knowing and throaty sound. “Not for very long, don’t worry,” she says and Lena senses something deeper in that sentence that Kara’s not letting on, but she continues talking. “I know you might want to go back to sleep after I get out of here, but I ordered you a coffee and scones on that fancy tablet thing at the bar for around eight.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lena replies, affection forming much more fully now. It itches against her chest.
Kara runs her own fingers through her hair, pulling it back off her neck and tying it up in a messy ponytail that somehow looks effortless and put together all at once. Lena envies the ease which which she does it, but doesn’t have time to ruminate on it all because Kara steps forward and kisses her.
The motion presses Lena back against the couch, their lips slanting solidly against each other and Lena feels the warmth of tonight - or was it last night? - surge through her sore, overused muscles. It causes her hands to come up around Kara’s neck and tug her closer and just like that she’s ready to pull Kara back down on top of her, and Kara doesn’t seem to mind. One knee lands on the couch next to Lena’s hip, her body pressing closer.
Kara laughs a little into the kiss like she knows what it’s doing to her and plants her hands on the back of the couch before it can go much further, bracketing Lena’s head. “I have to go,” she says softly against her lips. “I’ll see you soon?”
It’s a tentative question that Lena answers before she can even really process it. “Yes,” she says quietly and Kara smiles.
When Kara turns, Lena notices it. The dark stain on the back of Kara’s shirt from a spilled glass of whiskey coke, and she gasps involuntarily.
Kara spins and looks at her, confusion clear on her still sleep-addled face. “What’s wrong?”
“You have a small stain on your back,” Lena points out and Kara tries to look at her back, but it’s like a dog attempting to bite their tail and she just turns in place over and over again until Lena stands and stops her, gripping her forearms. The move seems to calm Kara momentarily, her eyes dropping to Lena’s chest.
“Take it off,” Lena orders. “I can have it laundered.”
“I know it’s Vegas, but I need a shirt to at least get to my room,” Kara says, but she’s already unbuttoning it and taking it off. Her eyes go wide when she takes a look at the stain. “That’s not little!”
Lena laughs, plucks the shirt out of Kara’s hands and walks back towards the bedroom where her suitcase is. “I’ll send it out. They can usually do same-day service.”
“My meeting is in like, twenty minutes, and we leave in four hours,” Kara says, trailing after her.
Setting the stained shirt to the side and pulling out something from her suitcase, she hands one of the few t-shirts she brought with her over to Kara and she steps into her own pair of sweatpants. “I don’t leave until the evening,” Lena says. “I’ll get it back to you in National City. You can wear that until you get to your room.”
Kara takes the shirt from Lena’s hands slowly, clearly unsure whether or not she’s agreeing to this, but Lena pushes her with a soft, “You’re going to be late, remember?”
“Yeah,” Kara sighs and she pulls the shirt over her head, leaning forward to press one last kiss to Lena’s lips, and heads back out into the room. “Thanks, Lena.”
“Of course,” Lena says, and tries to ignore the soft flutter of feeling she got at the sight of Kara in her clothing.
--
On the flight home, she connects to her plane’s wifi and does some follow-up emails regarding the meetings she’d had in Vegas.
There’s a message from Jack from that morning and she opens it up quizzically. Inside is a link to a picture and she notices it’s Kara - waving at the camera, Lakehawks duffel slung over her shoulder, and stepping onto the stairs of the Lakehawks official plane.
At Jack’s caption, Lena’s heart freezes - isn’t that your shirt?
Underneath a nice navy blazer, Kara’s still wearing the t-shirt Lena had handed her that morning. It’s nothing too flashy - a soft grey thing advertising a tech conference from a few years ago - and it probably wouldn’t mean anything to anyone but Jack, who attended the same conference and owned the same shirt.
Which is why she can almost hear the cheeky way he’s asking the question. Kara Danvers has no business owning such a shirt and Jack’s seen it enough to know it’s Lena’s and it’s just too obvious for him not to connect the dots at this point.
She decides not to respond, just deletes the e-mail and closes her laptop.
When the flight attendant passes by, she orders a gin and tonic and tries not to think about the ache still thrumming between her legs and how it got there.
--
Jack brings it up again later that week when they have lunch.
“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?” He jokes and Lena kicks him under the table. It only makes him laugh. “Unless it’s not staying in Vegas.”
It’s said with a suggestive motion of his eyebrows that Lena rolls her eyes at. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
“You could do a lot worse than Kara Danvers,” Jack says and Lena glares at him, leaning over the table with a hushed order to:
“Lower your voice.”
Jack looks unaffected. “I don’t know why you’re so up in arms about this. She plays on a basketball team that you own, but frankly have such little interest in you might as well be a silent investor. You’re not her boss. There aren’t any rules explicitly forbidding it.”
“I’m not going to make the same mistakes my brother did,” Lena says and when she stabs her fork in her salad it’s with a little more force than necessary. “The last thing Luthor Corp needs right now is that kind of press. Even if it’s not a big deal as you seem to think.”
“We’re not talking about marriage here,” Jack says, taking a sip of his iced tea and smirking at her. Lena almost kicks him again. “I’m just asking for some of the good details. Like how was she?”
“How would I know?” Lena says, still intent on denying the obvious and hating how well Jack knows her.
“Lena. It’s me,” he says knowingly and she just glares at him.
“Continue this line of questioning and consider yourself uninvited from future Lakehawks games.”
An exaggerated scoff escapes Jack’s mouth and he puts a hand against his chest in feigned indignation, but when Lena doesn’t laugh he rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine, my lips are sealed,” he says, making a swiping gesture over his mouth.
“Thank you,” she says, returning to her salad.
“You’re no fun,” he grumbles, but he’s smiling and this time she does laugh.
Later that night, her phone buzzes where it’s facedown on her bedside table while she reads through some reports on her tablet. When she turns it over, a text from Kara blinks back at her - i hope you’re treating my shirt as well as i’m treating yours. it’s been through some things.
It makes Lena laugh, the easy way Kara works with her. Before she can reply, a photo comes through of Kara from the neck down, clearly in bed, wearing those blessed Calvin Klein boyshorts and Lena’s t-shirt. It spikes through her with a sort of deadly precision that she’s only ever felt with this woman.
Before she thinks better of it, she’s pulling off her own sleep shirt and is making a grab for her suitcase, where Kara’s freshly laundered button down is pressed and waiting to be returned. She slips it on, finds a somewhat tasteful angle, and sends her wordless reply.
It takes a moment for Kara to respond, but Lena laughs again when she reads the text.
you are definitely treating it well. i’m sorry i ever worried.
She falls asleep with a pleasant buzz of arousal moving across her skin and a smile on her face.