5. Chapter 5(1)

The night before she’s set to leave for Japan, it’s Jack that’s lounging on her bed sipping at wine while she’s the one pulling outfits out of her closet and folding them up in her luggage. Jack is less than helpful and has spent the last few hours all but pouting while he drinks his way through Lena’s wine cellar.

“Traditionally you inform your best friend when you’re planning on fleeing the country,” Jack says, eyes on Lena as she shuffles through a series of dresses.

“I didn’t know I had to inform anyone not in my employ of my work schedule,” Lena replies and Jack makes a disapproving sound.

“You really do live in your own little world, don’t you?”

“Jack,” Lena sighs, letting her head fall back as she does it, eyes closing.

Jack laughs, but it tapers off into a sigh. “I’m just worried about you. This whole mess with Kara.”

“It’s not a mess,” Lena immediately denies, opening her eyes to level a hint of a glare at Jack that does nothing to affect him. He flops more onto her pillows and stares at her as if she’s being an idiot.

“I told you to get her out of your system, and then you said you were working on that. Flying across the globe to be with her isn’t quite –”

“I’m not going to Japan to be with her,” Lena says, clicking her tongue at the end of it. “What gave you that impression?”

“She’s going to be there, is she not?”

Lena presses her lips together a moment. “The Olympic Games are there.”

“I’ve never seen you care about a sport in your life,” Jack says. Lena glares.

“I own two sports teams, and Luthor Corp sponsors the U.S. team and plenty of athletes.”

Jack sits up to prop his elbows against his knees and regards her more seriously than earlier. “Can you stop acting like you’re talking to a journalist?”

Something flips in Lena’s stomach, something light but anxious and she sighs, turning to run her fingers over a pair of skirts sitting on top of her dresser. “Yes, Kara will be there. But this thing with her,” she pauses, twists her lips a moment before turning back to Jack. “I’m ending it as soon as the games are over.”

Before he can react she turns around, back to a tray of jewelry she’d pulled out and she begins to thumb through it under the guise of picking items out though she feels like she barely sees anything.

Silence sits over them a moment before Jack lets out a short bark of a laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“About?” She glances at him over her shoulder.

“You’re flying all the way to Japan…to break up with her?” Jack asks, incredulity lifting up his eyebrows.

“That’s not – no – I’m not,” Lena says, hating the way she has to clear her throat as she says it.

“You are,” Jack says pointedly.

“Can you really call it a break up if we’re not together?” Lena says, focusing on the earrings in the tray in front of her.

“Lena, are we really still here? After all this time?” Jack asks, and this time he stands and Lena turns to see the exasperated motion of his arms. “Is your delusion that significant?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean,” Lena dismisses even as her rib cage feels like it’s twisting around herself. Evasion seems to be a hardwired tactic she consistently reverts to. Even with Jack. He’s right. She does talk to him like he’s a journalist.

“You’ve been dating Kara Danvers for months. It doesn’t matter if you decline to put a label on it or not,” Jack says, crossing his arms over his chest. He reminds Lena of Lex in that moment, with his chest puffed out, chin lifted and seeing right through her.

“I have not,” she denies, turning to face him. “We’ve been sleeping together. And now it’s time for that to stop.”

“Because of some ridiculous professional code of ethics you’re sticking to and your inability to move past –”

“You were the one who told me not to dip the pen into company ink, Jack,” Lena interrupts, gathering a few pieces of jewelry to put in her bag. Her hands barely feel connected to her body. For half a second, she wishes Kara was here, warm and at her side. But the feeling gives way to panic.

“I said that a long time ago,” Jack says. “This is absurd.”

“It isn’t. I’m ending what should have never started.”

“You care about her,” Jack says. “You have feelings for her. Real ones. You’d pursue her if she didn’t play for the Lakehawks.”

A thick silence falls over the bedroom for a long moment before Lena finds a reply. “Yes,” she admits, forcing the truth to come out. It’s hard, and it almost hurts, but she can acknowledge that she feels things for Kara that are real, and big.

Jack doesn’t seem fazed by the admission, though his face softens sympathetically even as his mouth shifts into a soft smile.

“Have you considered the alternative of just telling her how you feel and maybe she feels the same? You should –”

Lena cuts him off with a palm outstretched his direction and a narrowing of her eyes. “Jack,” she says, her tone low and frosty. “When I want your advice on the matter, I will ask for it.”

A look of resignation presents on Jack’s face, a sad tilt to the corner of his eyes. It makes her feel guilty for a moment, want to take it back. Jack has been nothing but a supportive best friend this entire time, but Lena doesn’t want to have a heart to heart about her feelings right now.

All Lena wants to do is spend some time in Japan, enjoy a little bit more of Kara Danvers before she has to return to reality and get a better grip on her responsibilities. It’s certainly stupid, but a part of her needs it.

“Be careful, Lena,” is all Jack says, his voice warm, but full of warning. It wraps around Lena’s body painfully. “You spend all that time in your head. The only person you’re going to end up hurting is yourself.”

“I know what I’m doing, Jack,” Lena says, jaw clenching.

Jack nods, but the smile on his face betrays his disbelief. “I’m sure you do.”

--

Before her flight, Lena sits at the bar in the First Class lounge and reads a long article previewing the upcoming games. There’s a complex breakdown of which nations are represented around the NWBA and a few predictions about some of the match ups.

Team USA is heavily favored in most of their games and there’s a long writeup regarding just how dangerous a Danvers-Lance sister teamup can be, packed with quotes and stats on previous tournaments where they’ve played together. There’s even a video clip of Kara and Barbara Gordon, from Gotham, in college playing against each other.

It’s interesting to see the older clip, how much younger Kara looks. It’s been readily apparent most of the time that Kara is the most talented player on the floor with the Lakehawks, but watching her play in college makes the difference in skill that much more obvious - she speeds through the defense when Barbara isn’t on her, and her teammates defer to her for almost all plays. There’s barely an offensive play in the highlight package where she doesn’t at least touch the ball. Her face is intense, sweaty, and Lena is endeared all over again. It makes something go bitter on the back of her tongue, her heart starting to palpitate.

A text interrupts her thoughts, her phone buzzing in her hands and Kara’s contact dropping down from the top of the screen.

It’s a picture of the team – Lena recognizes Sara, Laurel and Felicity easily enough along with Alex and Lucy and of course Kara. She looks ridiculously excited, her smile big and adorable. They’re congregated around what looks like a mascot Lena doesn’t recognize, but Kara clarifies in the text that follows.

Olympic mascot sighting!

With another sip of her drink, she resolves again to just - relax, and to enjoy Kara for the little bit of time she has left.

--

It’s a good thing the flight from National City to Tokyo takes more than ten hours because Lena has all that time to get her emotions under control. The lingering unease from her conversation with Jack starts to ebb away after her third glass of wine and she manages to zone out watching some ridiculous in-flight movie that she finds on the tiny screen in her first class seat.

By the time she lands at Haneda Airport, she feels free of the shackles of National City and ready to enjoy a quick vacation in one of her favorite cities. Tokyo is hot and busy when she finally arrives at her hotel. It’s in the Ginza district and not too far from the Olympic Village. She’s stayed there a few times and was lucky enough to secure her usual suite – large by Japanese standards, but fairly standard compared to what she stays in stateside.

After the long trip and the sudden onset of jet lag, her bed looks ridiculously inviting. As she unpacks some of her suitcase and gets settled, she sends it longing glances and wonders if maybe she’d be okay with a quick power nap. There’s nothing on her schedule until tomorrow and even that’s nothing she has to prep for – a quick meeting with a local company liaison. A nap couldn’t hurt.

But just as she’s about to do just that, her phone is lighting up with a text from Kara and suddenly her exhaustion starts to melt away in favor of smiling down at the words.

You here yet? You hungry? Where are you staying?

It’s a perfect distraction from her sleepiness and she runs quick fingers through her hair to straighten it in the mirror before swigging some mouthwash and texting Kara back.

Just got to my hotel.

Seconds later her phone is ringing and she’s answering it to the excited voice of Kara Danvers. It makes her smile and she does all she can to just let it happen, free of worry.

“We have the afternoon free,” Kara tells her happily. “Do you wanna do something?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for the opening ceremonies tomorrow?” Lena asks even though she knows how Kara will respond. Her travel fatigue starts to disappear as she finds her shoes near the door and slips them on.

Kara makes a noise between a laugh and a scoff. “Because walking into a big arena and waving a flag takes a ton of practice?”

“You’re carrying the flag?!” Lena says, stopping suddenly at the prospect.

“No,” Kara says, her tone not lacking a grumpy quality. “It’s some soccer player, I forget her name.”

Lena laughs a little. “How dare they give it to her and not you.”

“Right?!” Kara says and they both laugh.

Lena leaves her hotel room and starts the journey to the elevator. “Where are you now?”

“Walking around,” Kara answers. “Send me your location. M’gann gave me a tip on this really good ramen place. I hope you’re hungry.”  

--

It’s easy to pick Kara out of the crowd. Despite the busy push of people on the street, Lena spots the white Team USA tank top half a block away as Kara comes sauntering towards her, glasses obscuring her face and a bright smile.

She looks alarmingly good in her light wash jeans and clean sneakers, arms out and soaking in the Tokyo sun. Lena can’t suppress the smile and decides, quite irrationally, not to rebel against the fluttery feeling in her stomach either. They’re half a world away from their old lives. What’s the point of worrying?

“Hey, how was your flight?” Kara greets when she gets in close enough to press a quick kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Did you sleep? Watch any good movies? Are you hungry?”

The rapid fire of the questions makes Lena laugh and she presses her palm to the exposed skin of Kara’s biceps, enjoying the play of muscle there. “It was fine. And yes, I could eat.”

“Great!” Kara replies brightly, not waiting a moment before she’s reaching for Lena’s hand and turning to tug her down the street.

It takes her a good two minutes to fully realize they’re walking down the city street hand-in-hand, but when she does, she doesn’t pull away. It makes her think of Midway City, suddenly, of the moments she let herself imagine what a normal relationship might look like with Kara. It’s funny, to look back on their arrangement and see all the moments Lena had dug herself deeper and deeper, where she should have ended it. And soon, it will have to be over for certain.

The inevitability of their parting makes her feel reckless and she sinks into imagination again, intertwines her fingers with Kara’s and smiles when Kara glances over.

There’s something anonymous about the crowded streets of Tokyo. On a normal day, they might stick out more, but with the Games in town the city is bustling with people from all over the world. She and Kara blend into the crowd like any other tourists. It feels undeniably freeing.

Kara still gets some attention – a few passing glances at her obvious team-issued USA gear – but it’s not the same as back home. Kara laughs a bit when Lena observes as much.

“I’m not much of a novelty here,” Kara says, checking her phone again to look down at the map there. The familiar, adorable crinkle between her eyebrows forms as she tries to understand the streets there.  “There’s literally an entire village of me in the middle of Tokyo.”

It makes Lena laugh. She doesn’t think that’s entirely accurate – Kara Danvers, Lena has come to learn, is very much one of a kind – but she catches Kara’s meaning. The anonymity of the entire thing starts to ease any anxiety Lena might normally have when Kara wraps an arm around her waist as they navigate a particularly busy street, or puts her hand at the small of her back to lead her to the door of their destination.

They end up sitting side by side in a ramen shop waiting for their food. Kara’s completely fascinated by the whole process – from ordering the food off a machine to attempting to read the words on the tiny tickets they hand the chef. Lena’s suddenly grateful for her passable Japanese as Kara litters questions around the entire time they wait for their food.

“M’gann has great taste in food for a Canadian,” Kara mumbles around a mouthful of gyoza when their food arrives.

Lena arches a brow and sips gently at her small glass of water. “What does that mean?”

“She’s Canadian,” Kara says, narrowing her eyes and snatching another dumpling with her chopsticks. “She’s the enemy now.”

“Was she not Canadian before?”

Kara pops the food in her mouth and shrugs a shoulder. “It’s the games, Lena. Lines have been drawn.”

There’s a teasing glint to Kara’s eyes that tells Lena she’s mostly kidding and it makes Lena chuckle.

“It’s like Diana,” Kara continues, sitting back a little as the chef places a bowl of ramen in front of her. “I love Diana. But for the next few weeks I’m going to try my best to destroy her and her country.”

Lena picks up her chopsticks and observes her own bowl of food, laughing softly. “Sports,” she replies with enough distaste in her tone that she knows Kara will react to.

And Kara does, with a scoffing sound loud enough that the person two seats down looks over. It’s punctuated by a light little tap with her foot against Lena’s leg that warms her all the way to her fingertips.

--

They walk out of the ramen shop full and satisfied and Kara slides sunglasses back on her face as she steps into the sunlight again, arms stretching out over her head in an attractive motion. Even the little side street is packed, and so they stand close together as they linger.

Lena fishes her own aviators out of her purse just for something to do other than stare at Kara’s arms and blush.

“What are you doing tonight?” Lena asks, grateful for the way the sunglasses hide her eyes.

“We have some media prepping to do and a team meeting, but that’s it,” Kara answers, rolling her head around her neck and propping her hands on her hips.

Lena licks against the dryness of her lips, feels the urge to kiss Kara thrum through her. She wants to kiss her badly and she wants to do it here, out in the open, in the middle of the street where anyone can see.

Something shifts in Kara’s expression and though her eyes are hidden behind teal tinted lenses, Lena has a feeling Kara’s getting the same urge.

“All of that stuff isn’t until tonight if you still want to hang out,” Kara offers, sounding about as casual as Lena feels.

“Sure,” Lena says, laughing a bit and looking away from Kara’s face as much she can. “I need something to do so I don’t just go home and fall in bed.”

Kara swallows visibly and Lena blinks, feels heat that has nothing to do with the summer air around them. Is this how it always is? Lena feels something overwhelming wrapping around them, something that hasn’t been like the other times.

“I got my own room,” Kara says and another spike of heat hits Lena in the chest.

It occurs to her, however, where exactly Kara’s room would likely be. “In the village?”

“Yeah,” Kara answers and then seems to realize Lena’s meaning. “Right.”

“I’m staying at the Park Hyatt,” Lena says as a counter offer. Her palms itch with the urge to drag Kara into the nearest taxi. How it got from sharing a friendly meal to an unstoppable urge to tear Kara’s clothes off, Lena’s not sure. But it’s there, and she’s so beyond fighting it. “I have a suite.”

--

They end up spread across Lena’s bed. Clothes strewn across the room, sunglasses discarded on the end table and Kara’s lips kissing a path down Lena’s torso, hands holding Lena’s arms down as she does it.

Lena was sure that sex with Kara couldn’t get any better, but it seems somehow that either crossing an ocean or the excitement of the Olympic games has given Kara some kind of edge in the bedroom. Her hands are everywhere, and Lena can’t seem to keep her own in one place for very long either. Kara’s pressed so close, the sheets draped over them and forming a cocoon, and it feels like she could be anywhere in the world, really, if she still got this.

In a lethal combination of fingers and tongue, Kara rips an orgasm out of her shockingly fast. Her hands clench against Kara’s hair and her hips press up into Kara’s mouth as everything in her gut goes tight and releases.

She blames it on the fact that they haven’t had sex in what feels like months. Lena’s body had gotten used to more frequent orgasms and the moment Kara left for training camp all that had ceased. Even when Kara had been on the road, they had called, and the absence of it had made her feel like she was going crazy.

The feeling of lips on her clit after a long break is making Lena’s head swim and she has to tug against Kara’s hair to get her to stop stroking overly-sensitive skin.

It certainly doesn’t help, however, that when Kara obeys the pull she just smiles at Lena from between her legs, arousal visible all across her mouth. It’s an image that steals the air out of Lena’s lungs and makes her want to lick across Kara’s lips with a depth of desire that’s almost disconcerting.

As if sensing Lena’s thoughts, Kara’s smile deepens and she shifts upward just a bit between Lena’s legs. “I wish I could have packed the…” Kara’s words cut out with a faint flush, her forehead dropping to Lena’s hip as if in embarrassment.

It’s ridiculous, but not surprising. Kara often manages to be agonizingly seductive and sheepish in the same breath. Considering all they’ve done together and to each other, Lena’s not sure how she accomplishes such a thing, but nonetheless, she finds herself endeared to it.

“Actually,” Lena says with a soft clearing of her throat. Her own embarrassment starts to creep up her neck. “I did.”

Kara’s head shoots up, blue eyes intent. “You did?”

Lena nods and glances to her suitcase across the room. The particular item in question had been a last second addition, and maybe a case of wishful thinking. Long after Jack had left her apartment and Lena’d been lingering around her room making sure everything was ready.

In a swift motion, Kara’s pushing up Lena’s body and kissing her quickly on the lips with a murmured, “You’re a genius.”

Then Kara’s up and gone to fish around in Lena’s suitcase until she’s found her treasure. Lena can’t help but delight at the image of her, naked and pulling perfectly folded clothing around in her search. She thinks to protest at the mess, but doesn’t have a chance before Kara’s pouncing back on the bed with a look that has Lena’s heartrate increasing.

It probably shouldn’t be that sexy, but watching Kara maneuver around the bed in preparation makes Lena feel hot all over, desperate for something she doesn’t know how to articulate.

Words aren’t needed, however, because Kara seems to have her own plans. Plans that involve flipping Lena to her stomach with Kara behind her, pressing in full and deep and making Lena’s fingers twist tightly around the bedcovers under her hand.

The position always spreads her open in a way that leaves her breathless and Kara’s fingers curling around her hip makes Lena have to smash her face into the mattress beneath it to muffle a low groan that threatens to come out.

From the way Kara drops across Lena’s back, it seems she’s just as affected. A low murmured fuck punctuates a series of rapid thrusts that jolt Lena’s hips against the pressure. From there on, it’s quick, heated, and Kara is pressed close enough that it feels like Lena is overheating.

It doesn’t take much until Lena’s panting for more, arching against the way Kara’s fucking into her. Kara submits to Lena’s demands, reaches around with her fingers until Lena’s crying out and shaking through a second orgasm that has her vision blurring for a few moments.

That’s all it seems Kara needs. Teeth against Lena’s shoulder and fingers stuttering against Lena’s clit, Kara follows right after, groaning her own orgasm against Lena’s skin and slumping heavily onto Lena’s back.

This has ruined me for sex with other people, Lena thinks, the thought popping into her mind irrationally and slashing something cold across her chest. How she’s going to give this up at the end of this trip, she’s not sure. But what she is sure of is that sex with Kara could very well kill her and if that’s the case, it’s as good a way to end this arrangement as she can think of.

Kara slowly withdraws, helping Lena flop onto her back. Lena mostly just enjoys the sound of Kara moving around slowly for a few moments, her eyes shut, and then Kara is slipping back into bed, pressing close to her. The sheets get drawn back up, and Lena hums when a kiss is pressed to her neck.

“We’re pretty good at that,” Kara says, after a second. Her voice is hoarse, and her head shuffles closer until she’s settling on Lena’s shoulder. Absentmindedly, Lena reaches to trace along Kara’s spine.

“I’ve had better,” Lena says, and Kara makes an affronted huffing noise that has Lena laughing hard.

--

The Opening Ceremonies occur the following evening and Lena watches it casually from her hotel room as she goes over her itinerary for the trip and double checks meetings and locations.

The Parade of Nations is currently on the screen and Lena only has one eye on the television, not very interested in the content, but curious to see the United States appear.

They’re further down the lineup than she’d expected, but the commentators explain that the English alphabet is being used to order the nations instead of the usual practice of following the host country’s language.

It puts the United States towards the end of the parade between the Ukraine and Uruguay. Just as Kara’d mentioned, a slim woman the television identifies as one of the soccer team’s stars leads the contingent of athletes, beaming as she bears the flag forward.

The group is massive, the largest of the entire parade, and they’re all clad in almost obnoxious red, white, and blue hues, blazers over bermuda shorts.  It’s not long before Lena spots Kara, the camera shifting to the group of the women’s basketball team.

A lot of the team is recognizable, either from games Lena’s attended or, admittedly, from having seen them photographed with Kara. Alex and Kara are walking next to each other and as the camera pans them, a woman Lena recognizes as Iris West comes popping up between them holding a small camera and waving.

Scattered nearby is Sara and Laurel Lance, excitedly taking selfies with Felicity Smoak and, behind them, Lena recognizes Leslie Willis, Traci Thirteen, Barbara Gordon but the rest of the women Lena has to wait for the commentary to identify – Helena Bertinelli and Kate Kane.

Immediately after comes the men’s team – Lena recognizes Mon-El, Barry and Wally easily enough, but she pauses a moment when the camera zooms in on an attractive put-together looking man with slicked over hair and a wide smile. The commentator mentions it’s Clark Kent – Kara’s cousin whom Lana had mentioned ages ago. For half a second, Lena wonders why they aren’t enjoying the moment together, and she considers the fact that she hasn’t ever heard Kara mention him - but the thought passes when someone nearly tackles Clark in excitement, all of them mugging for the camera.

Lena can see the resemblance almost immediately and the cheeky smile he gives the camera – so reminiscent of Kara – makes Lena want to smile in return.

It’s a scary feeling she’s come to get used to and though she doesn’t resist the warmth in her chest, she does click the television off before it gets any worse.

--

Team USA opens against Senegal and Lena gets a seat in the second tier of the stadium to watch the game. It’s a little different view than her usual courtside one, but there’s comfort in the distance and anonymity of these seats.

Even from her distant seats, Lena can make out details and differences between the Lakehawks and the current Olympic team. Coach Waller, for instance, isn’t as expressive as Cat Grant. While she does pace up and down the sideline disapprovingly just like Cat, she doesn’t vocalize the majority of her displeasure.

It’s clear the team itself is still working out some chemistry adjustments. Kara’s unsurprisingly in the starting lineup along with her sister and Lucy Lane. A trio that’s been the highlight of a significant portion of Team USA paraphernalia.

It’s not exactly the mismatch she’d been expecting and the game is close going into half time.

Halfway through the third quarter a man sits down two seats away from her. He’s got a blue USA baseball cap slung low over his face, but his t-shirt is clearly displaying the colors of Team Greece, a little flag on his sleeve indicating as much. Lena eyes him with a bit of confusion until he glances over and notices her staring.

Quickly, she turns back to the game, just in time to see Alex hit a particularly inspiring jump shot from the baseline, but not quick enough that the newcomer doesn’t react.

“I’m a bit of a turncoat, I know,” the man says with a chuckle, and Lena turns back to see him grinning at her from under the brim of his hat. He gestures to it and then to his shirt.

She laughs with him, eased a bit by the gentle expression on what she can see of his face. “If you’re trying to spy on the Americans for Greece, you’re not doing a great job at disguising yourself,” Lena jokes and he laughs again.

“American by birth, Greek by marriage,” he says and he extends his hand across the empty seat between them. “Steve.”

Lena takes it, shakes it firmly. “Lena,” she returns. “Pleasure.”

Before anything else can be said the crowd erupts in a loud cheer, the row a few in front of them jumping to their feet to clap. Lena turns her attention to the jumbotron hanging over the center of the court to watch the replay – Kara preventing a basket by swatting away the layup attempt of a Senegal player. The ball gets batted towards the stands and the entire team reacts enthusiastically, Alex in particular jostling her in celebration as the bump into each other in some kind of barbaric victory ritual Lena’s seen happen at games.

“That Kara Danvers,” Steve says next to her in a breathy kind of awed voice, but loud enough for her to hear. “She sure is something.”

On instinct, she flushes a little as if she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t be. It’s a ridiculous reaction, but always seems to be the one her body has when someone mentions Kara to her in public.

But it only takes one breath to calm it down and put an easy smile on her face as she turns to Steve. “She really is, isn’t she?”

--

It’s a different experience.

She doesn’t see Kara after the game like she might if they were back in National City – sometimes in the long tunnel leading back towards the locker rooms. They don’t meet up hours after the game is concluded – Kara with damp hair and fresh clothes, flush with victory. Instead, Lena heads out for a late night bowl of ramen and a drink and spends the rest of her night in her hotel room going through her inbox and making sure she’s prepped for her early morning meeting.

The television is on mute across the room and it’s running through Olympic highlights of the day. Alex is being featured for earning a double-double – something Lena’d only just learned about from Kara. It’s followed by an interview with Diana Prince – the gorgeous and apparently talented woman Lena’s seen laughing and hugging Kara in the media quite frequently.

She’s wearing the blue and white uniform of Greece this time instead of the red and mustard colors of the Washington Wonders and she’s grinning disarmingly at the much shorter man interviewing her.

The closed captioning indicates she’s being asked about the prospect of coming up against some of her friends on Team USA and Diana’s smile never falters. I assure you we’re up to the challenge she’s saying with a wink towards the camera.

Lena returns to the project files she’d been reviewing for her meeting tomorrow and tries to ignore the flutter of irritation at how good looking Diana Prince really is.

--

In the morning as Lena’s returning from an early meeting with a team of her factory managers, a familiar contact comes flashing on her screen and while a passerby wouldn’t recognize it as Kara Danvers, Lena smiles on reflex and picks up the call.

“Hello.”

“Hi,” Kara replies immediately and sounding breathless, but happy. There’s the distant sound of cars and a faint windlike whisper through the connection. Lena puts two and two together easily enough.

“Are you out running?”

“Yes,” Kara answers, more like a pant of the word, but understandable.

“Why?” Lena asks without thinking, her nose curling up in distaste at the idea. There isn’t much that could convince her to go out jogging in the oppressive Tokyo heat right now.

“Practice was light. Lots of noncontact stuff,” Kara answers and Lena can just about hear the smile in her voice. “Plus, it’s a cool way to see a new city.”

“Each to her own I suppose.”

Kara makes a humming noise caught somewhere between agreement and amusement and though Lena can’t see her face, she feels a blush coming on. It’s a tad irrational, but just the thought of what Kara looks like right now, hair windswept from running, a flush of exertion and a smug look of pleasure across her lips, makes Lena feel warm across her chest and up into her cheeks.  

“I’m assuming you spent your entire morning in meetings?” Kara asks, sounding a little less breathless now as if she’s paused on her run.

“A much more enjoyable endeavor than running,” Lena returns, enough tease wrapped around the distaste in her tone that Kara laughs.

“I’ll take my work day over yours any day.”

“Likewise.”

Over the connection, Lena hears what sounds like the ding of an elevator and the small hum of conversation as if Kara’s stepped off the street.

“Have you just gotten back to the village?” Lena asks

There’s no response immediately, just an odd too-long sort of silence that prompts Lena to ask, “Kara?”

“Funny coincidence,” Kara replies, but Lena’s able to recognize a sheepish tone in her voice. “I’m really close to your hotel right now.”

Though Kara can’t see it, Lena arches a brow and glances to the window at her right as if Kara might be right outside and easily visible. “How close?”

A sudden knocking is her only answer and Lena’s heart leaps in surprise as she startles enough that she nearly drops her phone.

“I’m guessing that isn’t housekeeping outside my door,” Lena murmurs, taking a breath and laughing silently as she shakes her head.

Kara doesn’t answer, not that Lena waits for one. Instead she disconnects the call and throws her phone to the bed, walking to the door and taking a moment to glance through the peephole and confirm it’s Kara.

It is. And when Lena swings the door open, there she is. In a nondescript black tanktop and matching shorts with white stripes down the sides. There’s a small bag hanging across her back and she’s smiling a bit guiltily beneath the curve of a white baseball cap.

“Is this okay?” Kara asks her hands planting on her hips and an entreating smile starting to take the place of hesitance in her smile.

Lena manages to give her a short eye roll before turning her body to allow Kara entrance into the room. “Funny coincidence,” Lena says dryly, mocking Kara’s earlier words.

Kara laughs. “It really was,” she insists. “I was just running around, and suddenly I recognized where I was.”

At Lena’s unimpressed look, Kara just laughs again and shrugs a shoulder though the flush in her cheeks goes noticeably darker. It’s an attractive look. As it always is. Not unlike the way Kara looks after a game when Lena catches a glimpse of her in the tunnels near the locker room or on a postgame interview.

Scratching the back of her neck, Kara looks down at herself as if noticing Lena’s lingering stare and smiles. “Can I use your shower?”

Lena laughs, shakes off the urge itching across her palms to tug Kara in by the damp fabric of her tank top. “Your true motives make an appearance.”

Kara tsks, but laughs too. “I just realized I probably look disgusting,” Kara says. “I didn’t think this through.”

“You look fine. It doesn’t bother me,” Lena says, hoping to sound nonchalant, but knowing immediately she’s failed. The words come out lower than casual, and her eyes rake up the exposed skin of Kara’s biceps and by the time she’s made it back to Kara’s face, she knows Kara’s picked up on her trailing thoughts.   

The smug tug of Kara’s lips makes Lena’s stomach flip over and Lena’s suddenly very glad she didn’t set up any more meetings for the day.

“I can shower after,” Kara says, dropping the bag she’d had on her back onto the floor and tugging the baseball cap off her head to discard it nearby.

Lena crosses her arms over her chest and arches a brow even as she can feel her body start to respond to the idea of falling into bed with Kara. “After what?”

As if in answer, Kara laughs softly and takes a step forward. Instinctively, Lena’s arms drop away from her chest and when Kara’s close enough they find their way up around Kara’s neck just as strong hands fit against Lena’s hips. It’s too easy to slide together like this, but Lena doesn’t take time to think about it like she might back in National City.

Instead she enjoys the sudden rush of warmth that Kara’s proximity floods over her and smiles against the kiss Kara presses to her lips. It feels alarmingly good to do something as simple as just kiss Kara, but Lena doesn’t deny the unstoppable feeling that she could do this for hours and be completely content.

Kara kisses her with a kind of familiarity that Lena sinks into. The skin under her hands is hot and a little damp from Kara’s earlier exertion and it spikes a desire into Lena’s stomach that has her tugging at Kara’s tank top with clear insistence.

It’s a dance after that. One they easily maneuver through together.

And then Lena’s back is hitting the plush mattress behind her and Kara’s crawling over her with dark eyes and swollen lips and lord it’s going to be hard to give this up when they get home.

The feel of Kara fitting in between her legs brushes that thought aside and Lena’s grateful because the way Kara’s fingers are sliding across the skin of her thighs is a much more pleasurable thing to focus on.

Motivated by the way Kara feels and the heat wafting off her body, Lena flips them over, delighting in the surprised look Kara always gets whenever Lena suddenly decides to take the reins of their coupling.

“I don’t want you to exert yourself too much,” Lena teases, kissing a path across Kara’s sternum, over the scar there and down towards the small tattoos at her side. “You have a job to do here after all.”

Kara laughs, the sound curling into a gasp when Lena’s tongue finds a sensitive spot on her chest. There’s something thrilling about the way Kara reacts to her, the sounds she makes and the way her limbs twitch when Lena does something particularly pleasurable.

It drowns everything else out around them and Lena allows her focus to distill into the feeling of Kara arching against the movements of her mouth.

--

Lena’s seconds away from falling asleep. There’s still a buzzing between her legs but her limbs feel heavy, like her orgasm is physically weighing her down into the mattress. The warmth of the body next to her is only feeding the desire to pass out.

Kara, however, seems to have none of the same lassitude and she’s turning on her side next to Lena to prop her head up on an elbow and grin down at her with an eagerness that Lena finds herself respond to despite her exhaustion.

“Do you want to go watch a match or something?” Kara asks suddenly and Lena blinks, trying to get her brain back to normal wakefulness.

“Watch a match?”

“Yes,” Kara says, nodding slowly and shooting Lena a look one might give someone supremely inept. “The Olympics are here. In Japan. Like right outside, not too far.”

Lena rolls her eyes, shoves at Kara’s arm until she’s falling back onto the bed with a laugh. “I know that, ass.”

“Well?” Kara says, expectant as she sits up in bed and reaches for her discarded clothing to fish her phone out of the pile. The line of her back distracts Lena. “Do you want to go see something?”

Lena follows her lead and sits up in bed as well, running her fingers through her now tangled hair. “Isn’t that a bit risky? People might wonder what you’re doing out and about during the Olympic games with the owner of your team instead of your teammates.”  

Kara waves her off. “No one is going to be paying attention that hard. You worry too much.”

“You don’t know that,” Lena insists, but most of her experience in Japan so far has largely confirmed what Kara’s saying.

“It will be fine,” Kara entreats, already scrolling through her phone at the schedule of the games. “We just can’t go to any of USA’s games. Or like, basketball obviously.”

“Fencing?” Lena offers, thinking of one of the few sports she’s actually somewhat familiar with – Lex had taken fencing lessons when they were children and she’d sat in on them a few times.

“You would pick fencing,” Kara says with a scrunch of her nose. “Should we watch golf right after?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lena asks with a challenging arch of her brow, but Kara doesn’t seem affected by the expression.

“Fencing isn’t happening today anyway,” Kara says, looking back at her phone. “Our options are kind of limited.”

“Well then pick something else,” Lena replies, standing and stretching her arms over her head. “If you insist on going out.”

“If you’re so worried about it, wear a disguise.”

“A disguise?” Lena laughs shortly. “I’m sorry. I think I left my costumes in another handbag.”

Kara tsks exasperatedly. “I meant like a baseball hat or something,” she clarifies, throwing her phone aside and standing to round the bed until she’s next to Lena, the two of them still stark naked.

“Do I look like someone who owns a baseball cap to you?” Lena asks dryly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

Kara, however, doesn’t resist and her eyes sway in a circle before she’s fishing in the bag she’d left on the ground near the bed to pull out a navy Team USA cap. With a quick motion she’s tugging it over the mess of Lena’s head and laughing.

“Good thing you have me around for these things,” Kara says just as Lena’s swatting her hand away and taking the hat off to inspect it.

It’s the same hat the rest of the team has been wearing and it has Kara’s initials and a stitched 7 next to it – the number she wears for Team USA. “Why do you wear a different number here?”

Kara shrugs, looks at Lena like it should be obvious. “Michael Jordan did.”

“You changed your number because of Michael Jordan?” Lena asks with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Kara stares at her blankly for a moment before letting her expression break and shaking her head. “When I was first on the team you couldn’t have a number higher than fifteen so I had to change.”

“Ah, I see,” Lena says, tracing her finger over the number on the hat before settling it back on her head. “Well, how does it look?”

“Good,” Kara says definitively with a little grin, her eyes roam up and down Lena’s body. “You should wear exactly this.”

Lena swats at her stomach, hitting the muscles there with a tsk of her tongue. “Hilarious,” she replies dryly. It makes Kara laugh, hard enough that now Lena’s the one rolling her eyes.

“Sorry,” Kara says between chuckles, striving to compose herself.

“No you’re not,” Lena says, chucking the hat off her head and maneuvering around Kara as she smothers a smile. “I’m taking a shower.”

She barely gets two steps away before Kara’s suddenly behind her, scooping her off the ground and into a carry that startles her enough she gasps. She winds her arms around Kara’s neck, enjoys the slide of their skin together.

“Good idea,” Kara says as she carries Lena forward, smiling down at her with clear intent.

--

Lena’d been fairly confident that after their shared shower, Kara would have given up on the idea of heading out to watch some of the games, but as soon as they’re dried off and dressed again, Kara’s just as eager as before to venture outside.

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” Kara says as Lena lingers around under the guise of getting ready – a tried and true stall tactic that apparently does not work on Kara Danvers. “There’s table tennis in like an hour.”

“Table tennis,” Lena repeats. “You want to go watch ping pong?”

Kara shoots her an unimpressed look at that description, but doesn’t reply, just tugs her Team USA cap back on Lena’s head. “There, with some sunglasses, no one will know it’s you.”

Lena’s not so sure about that, but it’ll do for now. It’s not like anyone is expecting her out at the Olympic games and with a low brim and her glasses, Kara’s right. She wouldn’t be recognizable at first glance.

“Now, are you ready?” Kara asks, impatience sneaking into her tone.

“Yes, dear,” Lena teases with a roll of her eyes and a laugh.

Kara huffs but it’s exaggerated and punctuated by a smile. “I just don’t want to miss the start.”

“It’s ping pong. How exciting can it be?”

Blue eyes go comically wide. “You’ve never seen professional table tennis, have you?”

--

It turns out Kara is right. Though Lena doesn’t admit it.

Olympic-level table tennis moves at a pace Lena wasn’t prepared for and she finds herself mesmerized by the easy way the players move back and forth as they play. The small arena they’re in is dark, all lights and eyes focused on the play in front of them, and so Lena doesn’t worry so much when Kara wraps an arm around the back of her seat and settles closer than they really need to be.

An awed sounding wow escapes her lips at some point and Kara rewards the admission with a delighted smile and a, “I told you.”

“Don’t be smug,” Lena says, pushing at Kara’s knee as an admonishment. “It’s unattractive.”

It’s a lie. Kara looks entirely too kissable when she smiles at Lena like that and goes about explaining the different rules and matchups of the day. How Kara keeps all that information in her head, Lena has no idea, but it makes the matches that much more interesting. At one point she even finds herself cheering, launching to her feet at a fairly heroic volley, and slapping her palm against Kara’s in a high-five when offered.

Which is how Kara convinces her to go to a water polo match next – the arena not that far from where table tennis is taking place.

They take the train there, though Lena’d tried hard to persuade Kara to hail a cab. It’s part of the authentic Tokyo experience, Kara’d argued which Lena had thought was ridiculous, but maybe it was the three orgasms from earlier that made Kara that much more persuasive. It’s also pretty amusing to watch Kara stare hard at the train map with the Olympic venues to figure out where they need to be going.

Lena doesn’t end up minding the train. It’s not overcrowded like she’d expected, but just full enough that they have to stand, Kara hanging onto an overhead rail in front of Lena while Lena leans against the door between stops.

Kara’s dressed in a soft grey USA t-shirt and shorts, her white team-issued warm-up tied around her waist. Her cap from earlier is on her head, much like Lena’s is, but her hair is down around her shoulders.

The press of people on the train means they have to stand in close together and with nothing but Kara to hold onto, Lena’s hands continue to find purchase at Kara’s sides every time the train sways. Kara doesn’t seem like she pays any mind to it, her eyes bouncing around the train and the passing landscape of Tokyo. There’s curiosity there, and Lena finds herself wondering what’s happening in Kara’s mind.

They don’t talk at all, but Lena’s eyes hover around Kara’s lips, the way her tongue sometimes darts out to wet them.

It’d be so easy to shift forward and kiss her. She almost does, when the train hits a bump and she tumbles into Kara more fully. Reacting quickly, Kara has an arm around Lena’s waist to steady her and they exchange a soft smile as they slide into the next stop. She lets the moment pass when they have to step to the side to let people out. But the feeling sits in her brain like a real, physical thing.

Thankfully, before Lena can take it into action, they’ve arrived at their destination and Kara’s ushering her out of the train with a hand at her back, a gesture Lena’s becoming so used to she hardly notices it anymore.

“Should you really be spending your whole day with me?” Lena says as they walk towards the arena housing the water polo pools.

“As opposed to…?”

“Well what’s Alex doing?” Lena asks. “Or the rest of the team.”

Despite the brim of her hat and glasses, Lena can make out the weird expression Kara makes at the question. “Alex and Lucy are hanging out. Apparently it’s a thing, I don’t know.”

Lena arches a brow. “What?”

“Yeah, I know, right? Some like player meeting thing, but just them? I don’t even know. Alex wouldn’t say. And the rest of the team, they’re…doing other things.”

The intonation Kara uses gives Lena some clue as to what the team might be doing and as she arches a brow a short laugh escapes her. “Other things, huh? Together?”

Kara makes a face. “I don’t want to know. Laurel, Barbara and Helena leave me out of it and that’s all I care about.”

Against her will, a picture conjures in her brain that Lena has to shake away with another short laugh. “Team bonding?”

Kara chuckles at the joke, shrugs. “Some version of it. So, Sara’s off doing whatever it is Sara does when she disappears and Iris is hanging out with Barry and I think Felicity went along with them and Leslie is doing her best to avoid me per usual and –”

“Other things,” Lena fills in, interrupting the flow of words.

“Yes,” Kara says, with an abrupt nod and another laugh.

“Sounds like a lot,” Lena comments and Kara tilts her head in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s better to not be around all the drama, trust me.”

“You guys don’t have practice or anything? Or team meetings?” Lena asks. It’s hard to believe that during the most prestigious tournament in the world, Kara’d have all this free time.

But apparently that’s exactly how it is because Kara laughs and slings a casual arm around Lena’s shoulders. “They call it the Olympic break for a reason,” she says, fitting Lena against her side.

“That’s not why it’s called that,” Lena says, shaking her head at Kara’s little smirk.

“Okay, maybe not, but seriously, this is basically vacation for me. Less practice, not as many games, essentially no travel and none of Coach Grant’s crazy curfews or rules.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Kara says, her hand shifting lower until it rests on Lena’s lower back. They drift close to the ticket booth, heading into a line. “You should listen to me. This is my area of expertise, after all.”

“I do listen to you, darling,” Lena says absently, attention drawn to the scroll of Japanese announcing the strangely shaped building as the water polo center. “I just don’t want you to waste your time with me if you need to be doing something.”

“I did all I needed to do earlier,” Kara says. Even though she’s wearing sunglasses, Lena can read perfectly well the smirk on her face and she sighs, shoving at Kara’s hip until she’s feigning pain and stumbling away, laughter loud and smile free.

--

They watch Croatia play Australia in water polo. Kara has a bizarrely good grasp on the rules of water polo and though Lena has some familiarity with the game, it’s still interesting to hear Kara explain rules and strategy.

That, and Kara gets ridiculously invested in the game, even yelling at the referee at random intervals until Lena’s pulling her back down into her seat by the back of her shirt.

“I can’t believe this,” Kara mutters. Thankfully she remains in her seat, her hand tapping on Lena’s ankle where it rests on her thigh. “What a bad call.”

“Were you always this competitive?” Lena asks, laughing when Kara lets out a loud groan after an Australian score on a power play.

“Yes,” Kara says, glancing Lena’s way and grabbing for the water bottle she’s taken from Kara’s bag. Lena watches the line of her throat as she swallows for a moment too long and has to look away. “Well, no. Alex says I wasn’t.”

Her voice goes a little soft on the last part, and Lena finds her eyes drawing back to the woman next to her. Kara seems to notice her eyes and shrugs.

“She says it started after, you know,” Kara says, her hand reaching up to rest over her sternum for a quick moment. Lena’s fingers ache to touch the spot for a second. “But I don’t know.”

“I saw a clip of you from college a few days ago,” Lena says, drawing Kara’s attention back away from the past. “You were pretty intense.”

“It wasn’t that clip of Helena punching me, was it?” Kara asks, looking pained at the very thought. Lena laughs loudly, immediately reaching for her phone from Kara’s bag in an attempt to find that footage. Kara tries to stop her, laughing too as she gathers Lena’s hands up to stop her from opening her phone.

--

Waller has Kara, along with a few other starters, sit for the match against Serbia. Lena finds that while watching the game her attention wavers quite often away from the actual match and more towards the bench where Kara is sitting in full Team USA warmup gear.

Lena had expected Kara to be surly about sitting the way she had when her finger injury put her on the bench just a few weeks ago, but Kara seems nothing of the sort. She stays involved in the game quite exuberantly and it seems she and the other bench players have choreographed celebrations prepared for big moments.

When Helena Bertinelli hits a monster dunk over two defenders, Laurel immediately picks Sara up from where they’re standing on the bench and Sara mimes a hoop with her arms in which Kara subsequently fakes a dunk into as they all cheer.

It’s ridiculous, but Lena laughs at how much fun they seem to be having and it hypes up the crowd and the rest of the team. The game winds its way to finished quickly enough and Lena finds herself heading home thinking about how happy Kara has seemed. She’s barely stepped into her hotel room when she’s getting a text.

Do you want to meet tomorrow and go watch some more sports? I will sit through fencing if you promise we can go watch canoe slalom.

Lena, for a second, wonders why she’s interested at all in a person who wants to go watch something called canoe slalom.

I think you might be overestimating how much I want to watch fencing.

Kara sends back a series of emojis Lena can’t really interpret followed by a does 8 work?

It occurs to her to continue to protest, but she can already feel herself relenting and doesn’t have the energy to put up a façade. Instead, she just rolls her eyes at herself and texts back, come with coffee or don’t come at all

A winking emoji is the only response she gets and it isn’t until she’s seconds from falling asleep that she realizes why.

--

Kara does, indeed, show up at eight with Lena’s coffee order in hand and a bright smile on her face. She’s wearing a dark navy polo that sits well on her collarbones, light wash jeans that are ripped a bit around the knees and bright white tennis shoes. Her eyes are hidden behind sunglasses, but she slides them up into her loose hair when the door opens and gives Lena an obvious once over.

“You do not look ready,” Kara chastises as she hands over the coffee and plops onto the couch in Lena’s suite. “We’re going to miss shooting.”

With a soft laugh, Lena looks down at her soft pajama shorts and tank top ensemble. “Not ready to go out, maybe,” she says, looking back up at Kara with a hint of a smirk.

Kara’s lips thin like she wants to smile, but her eyes narrow as if continuing her earlier admonishment. “We can have sex in National City. This is the Olympics.”

Sipping at her coffee, Lena lets her eyes roll over as she pads to her suitcase with the intention of finding clothing. A tiny spike of anxiety hits her in the chest at the thought of returning to National City, the realization that Kara’s wrong. They won’t be having sex again when they get back.

Deciding to push that thought as far into the back of her mind as possible, she focuses her attention as much as she can on the suitcase in front of her. The hat Kara had loaned her the other day is sitting on top of her mess of clothing and she sets it to the side with her coffee before digging in for something suitable.

“Plenty of people have sex at the Olympics,” Lena reminds Kara, shooting her a look and swallowing against the thick feeling in her throat. “The condoms, remember?”

Kara makes a face, her nose scrunching up adorably. “I should have never told you that.”

Lena laughs, tugs her tank top up off her head and tosses it towards the bed. Unmindful of Kara sitting a few feet away watching, her shorts follow and she props her hands on her hips as she continues to scan her clothing options.

“Is it hot outside?” Lena asks absently, deciding if she wants to sweat through a pair of jeans or not.

There’s no immediate answer and when Lena looks over, Kara’s left the couch, glasses discarded off her head and a look in her eye that makes a flush run over Lena’s entire body.

At Lena’s expectant arch of her brow, Kara manages a smile and a shrug of her shoulder. “It’s pretty hot,” she answers as she gets to Lena’s side and her palm finds its way to Lena’s hip.

“Is that so?” Lena asks, sensing quite clearly that she’s not getting dressed any time soon.

It sends a thrill up her spine when Kara just pushes forward until they’re kissing, pulling Lena in with an arm around her waist and a smile.  

There’s something victorious about how even when Lena gently reminds Kara, “I thought you didn’t want to miss shooting,” Kara doesn’t hesitate for a moment, keeps their lips firmly together as she backs them towards the bed.

It makes her laugh against Kara’s mouth when Kara lifts her up off the floor to set them back on the mattress, but the sound gets swallowed and lost when fingers dip into what remains of her clothing and swiftly tugs it off.

--

“We missed shooting,” Kara says, with a grumpy little huff as Lena backs up near the door of the train and Kara reaches up to put two hands on the overhead rail. It makes Kara’s biceps go tense and her shirt pulls up a little from where it’s tucked into the belt of her pants. It’s altogether too attractive and Lena has to shift her eyes away lest she step forward and press bodily against Kara.

“Yes, because that’s my fault,” Lena replies with a pointed look that Kara rolls her eyes up at. “I’m so sorry.”

She is not at all sorry, and Kara can tell, because her jaw gets that tightness it always does when she’s glaring. Though sunglasses obscure her eyes and her baseball hat is curled low on her face, Lena can read the expression easily enough.

“It is a little your fault,” Kara says and Lena makes an indignant noise, swaying a bit as the train starts to move. It forces her fingers to grip lightly at the loose fabric of Kara’s polo to steady herself.

“How?”

Kara makes a show of looking her up and down and it makes Lena’s cheeks go hot as she pulls her own hat further down on her head and glances around. “It just is.”

“There are other events,” Lena dismisses and Kara huffs again.

“It was a medal event,” she says and she takes a hand off the rail to fish in her pocket for her phone and show Lena some notification on her screen. “An American won it.”

“And I’m sorry,” Lena repeats, trying to muffle a smile at the way Kara’s lips twist in exasperation. “How can I make it up to you?”

As if waiting for the offer, Kara perks up, sliding her phone back in her pocket and retaking her grip on the rail above her head. “Beach volleyball,” she answers as if bargaining for something.

Lena laughs. “You should have gone for something better, Danvers,” she says. “I will happily watch scantily clad women be athletic all over a beach.”

It’s not entirely true. Even after all this time, sports still hold very little thrill to Lena, but at least in beach volleyball the view is more interesting than most.

Kara scoffs, the noise evolving into a chuckle and a fond shake of Kara’s head.

The train sways again and Lena tightens her grip on Kara’s shirt, not resisting when their bodies collide ever the slightest.

--

It turns out they’ve missed the women’s games for beach volleyball and the only game starting when they arrive is the men. Kara tells Lena as such with a triumphant kind of smirk that makes Lena laugh even as she smacks her in the stomach with the back of her hand.

They end up with seats near the top of the thankfully somewhat-shaded stadium, Kara happily eating her way through some lukewarm stadium nachos that she acquires on the way in.

“Quite the healthy breakfast,” Lena comments, even as she nabs a chip from Kara’s container. One of the shirtless men on the sand does something that prompts a gasp from the crowd. Kara makes a noise of frustration, though whether it’s at the sport or Lena criticizing her food is unclear.

“I would have had us stop somewhere for real food if you hadn’t been so distracting,” Kara says, adjusting her hold on the chips so that the bowl is more between them. “I hate running in sand. This looks exhausting.”

“It was your idea,” Lena says, and Kara rolls her eyes.

They don’t even end up staying until the end of the match – Kara insists that if they want to see the big fencing matches, they have to leave to catch a train. Getting around Tokyo is something she usually does in an air conditioned car with a hired driver for company, but it is certainly different with a Kara Danvers who wants to stop and take a picture of every interesting thing she sees. These range from train station mascots to random vending machines to the giant Godzilla head on top of a building.

The fencing arena is quiet and dark, and a far cry from the warmth of the volleyball stadium. It’s a sport she knows at least something about and therefore doesn’t totally mind being forced to watch it.

This time it’s Lena explaining to Kara some of the rules and it’s an odd experience.

“Did you actually ever do this?” Kara asks, voice a whisper in the relatively quiet arena.

“Lex did,” Lena answers. “I tried it in boarding school, but it lost its appeal rather quickly.”

“So you do like some sports,” Kara replies and Lena makes a face, failing to follow that logic.

“Don’t get too excited,” Lena replies, chuckling softly and shaking her head. “I only tried it because of a girl. And once the appeal of that wore off, I was finished.”

Kara laughs, her knee pressed to Lena’s thigh warmly when she shifts closer. “That feels more believable about your brother than you,” she jokes.

With a fond smile at the thought of her brother, she shrugs. “It must run in the family.”

They’re quiet a moment, eyes on the floor ahead of them where the next match is being set up.

“Do you miss him?” Kara asks softly, glancing over at Lena.

It takes a second for Lena to catch her meaning before answering. “All the time,” she says and a soft, exasperated laugh escapes her. “It’s too bad he had to grow up to be such an idiot.”

Kara snorts a bit, keeps her voice low as the next bout begins. “He was a good owner, but I like your methods better,” she says, delivering the last bit with a suggestive waggle of her eyes that would normally make Lena laugh, but instead chills something under her ribcage.

She hates the reminder of their professional relationship, of the reason why all of this is going to end in a few short days, but tries to shove all that away in place of the feeling of Kara’s body drifting close and the smile on Kara’s face Lena attempts to return.

Thankfully, she must succeed, because Kara’s smile never falters and she turns back to focus on the fencers in front of them. Lena lets her eyes linger a moment longer, traces the sharp line of Kara’s jaw and the tense muscles of her forearms as she shifts forward, intent on the match.

A mixture of feelings curdle in Lena’s stomach so uncomfortably she doesn’t know which to pay attention to. Swallowing against the bitterness on the back of her tongue, she shifts her attention away and tries to settle the pounding of her heart.

--

They go to a late lunch at a restaurant that allows one to grill your own meat – yakiniku, Lena explains to Kara. It’s not that far from the ridiculous waterworks of the alleged canoe slalom course Kara’d been eager to check out.

Hung up over the bar near their table is a wide television airing a basketball game. It takes Lena a bit to realize that it’s the U.S. men’s team squaring off against France and she only figures it out by how intently Kara keeps looking at the screen.

It’s clear Kara’s attempting to look casual, as if she’s not darting glances at the score every two seconds. It makes Lena laugh and with a fond sigh she pats Kara’s hand to grab her attention.

“You can watch the game, you know,” she tells her with a quirk of her lips.

“We’ve been doing that all day,” Kara says, even as her eyes continue to dart back towards the screen. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m ignoring you.”

“I don’t,” Lena answers truthfully. A waiter sets down a plate full of their selected meats and Lena waits until he leaves to continue. “Clark is playing, is he not?”

Kara blinks as if not comprehending and Lena’s brow furrows a bit as she looks back at the screen. “Clark Kent,” Lena clarifies, voice a little softer.

The name shakes something off Kara’s face and she smiles though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, sorry. He is.”

A cold wisp of worry wraps itself around Lena’s ribcage like maybe she’s overstepped. “I didn’t mean to bring up something…unpleasant.”

“It’s not,” Kara says, laughing as she waves Lena off and reaches for her drink. Though Kara seems to soften some, Lena still feels like she opened a door she shouldn’t have. “Sorry, I just – I didn’t realize you knew who he was.”

“Doesn’t everyone know who Clark Kent is?” Lena asks, remembering Lana’s words from months ago. A glance at the television shows a replay of Clark throwing up a ball towards someone named Hal Jordan who slams it into the basket with considerable flourish.

“I suppose,” Kara says with a laugh that sounds unnaturally self-deprecating.

Lena reaches for a piece of meat just to have something to do and goes about setting it on the small grill between them. “You don’t have to talk about it if –”

“It’s fine,” Kara interrupts.

“It feels like it’s not,” Lena says, wishing she could pull all the words back and return to any moment earlier – smiling at each other on the train, pressing together in her hotel room.

“It really is,” Kara assures her, looking considerably more relaxed than when she first brought it up.

“It’s none of my business.”

Kara tsks, reaches forward to grab for Lena’s hand. “We’re friends,” she says, careful emphasis on the word – or maybe that’s just Lena’s paranoia. “It can be your business.”

Lena opens her mouth to protest further, but Kara’s already continuing, drawing her hand back away and sitting back in her seat.

“Clark and I have just always been kind of weird,” she explains with a shrug. “He was about to go to college when my parents died and he had a lot of offers to play basketball, obviously.”

Somewhere in her lexicon of knowledge is Clark Kent’s story – it had been included very briefly in one of the many information packets she’d studied about the Lakehawks – but she can’t seem to draw it forward.

“He was really good,” Kara continues with a soft laugh and a smile.

“Better than you?” Lena jokes, hoping to lighten the mood and it seems to do the trick when Kara lets out an exaggerated scoff.

“Please,” she says and then she leans forward to grab her own pieces of meat and set them next to where Lena’s flipping hers over. “I actually thought he might defer a year to stay around with me after my parents.”

Lena blinks, studies the careful expression on Kara’s face as her eyes stay trained on their food. “But he didn’t.”

“No,” Kara answers succinctly, reaching for her drink.

“And you wanted him to,” she supplies, feeling irrationally angry at a young Clark Kent’s inability to be there for Kara.

“I was a kid,” Kara says sounding like she’s reading off a script she’s practiced numerous times. “I didn’t understand it then, but I do now. It’s not like I’m one to talk.”

Lena arches a quizzical brow at that until Kara clarifies, “There’s pretty much nothing that I’d put before basketball.”

“Nothing?” Lena asks.

Kara shrugs, purses her lips in consideration for a moment. “Alex, probably, but that doesn’t really count.”

“I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” Lena says dryly, smiling a bit so Kara knows she’s teasing.

With a crooked smile, Kara pulls a piece of meat off the grill with her chopsticks and plops it in her mouth. “Alex knows she’s a close second,” Kara says around the food, winking at Lena.

“Lucky girl,” Lena jokes.

They’re interrupted by a sudden smattering of clapping from across the restaurant and they both turn to the television where a replay of Clark crushing a deep three over his opponent is playing. Lena looks to Kara, sees blue eyes focused intently on the screen and softens far too much at the fond, almost sad smile that plays on the other woman’s lips.

“I’ve seen better,” Lena comments, drawing Kara’s attention away and smirking at the quizzical expression on her face. “Have you ever heard of Kara Danvers?”

It makes Kara laugh – a loud and free sound – and a foot kicks lightly at Lena’s shin in an affectionate gesture. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?” Kara says softly, but the words feel like they drop heavily against Lena’s chest.

With more effort than she’d like, she swallows thickly and returns Kara’s smile. “You too.”

--

After canoe slalom, which is exactly as ridiculous as Lena expects it to be, and includes Kara enthusiastically trading Olympic pins with a group of Swiss tourists in front of them while simultaneously cheering very loudly for a French duo, they head back to Lena’s hotel.

They find their way to the top floor of the building where a restaurant, The New York Bar, resides. It’s fortunately relatively empty – a rarity considering how popular the bar is for tourists.

It’s an elegant space. Dim lighting and floor to ceiling windows that overlook the sprawling cityscape of downtown Tokyo. A piano sits next to the windows in the middle of small intimate tables and a jazz singer stands at a microphone filling the space with the light sounds of old standards.

They find a table next to the windows but far enough away from the music to hear each other and order drinks. Kara spends the first few moments looking awed at the vast dance of lights across the expanse of Tokyo. It makes Lena smile.

It reminds Lena of the first time she ever spent significant time with Kara. Up on the rooftop of Seven after a date that Sara Lance managed to sweep out from under her. Just like that night, they end up sharing a bottle of wine and talking over nonsense topics.

Kara fills her in on the new drama going on around the Olympic Village and Lena is content to sip at her wine and just listen, nodding at the right points and asking questions at any opening.

“I don’t get why Sara doesn’t just talk to Nyssa. It’s not like she can avoid it. Moira owns the Evergreens and Oliver is on the archery team with Nyssa, and Laurel and Oliver are like childhood best friends and this whole thing is just going to blow up in her face.”

Lena nods, unsure what to say to the rant Kara’s been on for the last few minutes about Olympic Village love triangles. “They broke up, didn’t they? Shouldn’t that be the end of it?”

“They broke up,” Kara clarifies by making an air quote gesture on the last words.

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Lena says with a laugh.

“Neither do I!” Kara replies, throwing her hands up in the air with exasperation. “That’s just how Sara always says it.”

“I sense that’s part of the problem,” Lena jokes and Kara agrees with a chuckle and shrug of her shoulder.

“Probably,” Kara agrees. “Sara’s usually pretty whatever about this kind of stuff, but something about Nyssa totally distracts her.”

“Serious relationships can be pretty distracting,” Lena says, teasing tilt to her lips.

Kara shrugs. “I guess. I wouldn’t know.”

It shouldn’t hurt, but something tweaks in her chest that she has to take a sip of wine to ignore. “No?”

Though Kara’d been clear from the start that she was about as interested in anything serious as Lena was, that doesn’t mean that was always the case. And Lena finds herself curious, probably to her own detriment

“Nope,” Kara answers with a pop of the word as she pours more wine into Lena’s glass. “The only serious relationship I’ve really had is with basketball.”

Lena smiles. “I’m not sure that counts.”

“You sound like Alex. But it does count,” Kara says sounding somewhere between serious and joking.

There’s enough wine in her system that Lena feels her usual filters drop just enough to admit, “I was in a pretty serious relationship once.”

“Really?” Kara asks, lifting a brow and swirling the wine around in her glass. “I’m guessing it didn’t end well. Not in a, you know, mean way - just, you’ve never mentioned anyone - ”

“It’s alright,” Lena says, smiling, before letting out a soft sigh. “We had different priorities.”

“Both of you?”

Tongue scraping the top of her teeth a moment, Lena shrugs a shoulder. “She did.”

Silently, Kara observes her a moment, seeming conflicted, before asking, “What happened?”

Lena smiles, no longer nearly as pained over the memories as she might have been a year ago. “I was young,” she answers, not sure how much she wants to honestly divulge. “We were at different places in our lives.”

“Isn’t that kind of a canned answer?” Kara teases, clearly giving Lena the choice of continuing the conversation or shifting it.

“Maybe,” Lena concedes. “But it doesn’t make it any less true. I was young and she was more career focused than I realized and that was that.”

“She used you to get ahead?” Kara asks, frowning at the suggestion.

“No,” Lena replies with a shake of her head, remembering that last conversation with Sam. I’m sorry, Lena. I didn’t know you felt that way. “She got an offer to relocate to Metropolis and I stayed in National City.”

“And you broke up.”

“Yes.” It's a condensed version of the story, but all she feels like divulging at the moment. 

“Mutually?”

Lips pursed, Lena tries for a casual smile and slinks the tiniest bit down into her chair. “Not entirely.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara says, so soft that it flutters over Lena’s chest.

“Don’t be,” Lena replies. “I may have loved her once upon a time, but it feels so long ago by now that I can hardly remember the feeling.”

It’s not entirely true. But lately, encompassed by the slow crawl of feeling she’s had for the woman across from her, everything with Sam feels so distant, muted by time. Instead it’s been replaced by the heart stopping realization that she’s falling in love with Kara Danvers and that nothing will come of it.

As if sensing Lena’s sudden melancholy, Kara sits forward a bit, puts on an exaggerated lecherous smile. “Was the sex any good?”

It’s said so ridiculously that Lena laughs, shaking off the emotions that threatened to take over. “Yes, very much so.”

Kara brings a hand to her chest as if offended, jaw dropping. “Better than me?”

Bring her wine to her lips in a prim motion, Lena smirks over the glass at Kara. “A lady never tells,” she says before taking a sip.

Blue eyes narrow intently, a smile playing across Kara’s lips. “What was her name?”

“Sam,” Lena answers promptly and then arches a brow at Kara’s expression and teases, “Why? Jealous?”

Kara scoffs. “Of a woman that no longer gets to see you naked? Please.”

Absurdly, the look of feigned indifference on Kara’s face just makes Lena want to kiss her. There’s a moment when Kara looks at her that Lena thinks maybe Jack was right. Maybe she should just tell her and deal with the consequences of that, whatever they may be.

“So is that why you’re anti-relationships?” Kara asks, looking interested.

Brow furrowing, Lena shakes her head. “I never said I was anti-relationship.” True as it may be to some extent.

“You know what I mean,” Kara replies, touch exasperated.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with it,” Lena says, tasting the hint of a lie in the back of her throat, but clinging to what she’s been telling herself this whole time. “Relationships are time consuming and in my position it’s hard to find anything genuine or to do it outside observation for that matter and –”

“Lena,” Kara interrupts with a laugh. “Chill.”

Flushing at the amusement in Kara’s smile, Lena darts her eyes away. “Sorry,” she murmurs, picking her wine glass up again for something to do.

“No, you just don’t need to explain it to me. I get it, remember? That’s how we got here in the first place.”

It’s said as a joke, one Lena manages to laugh at even as her chest gets a little achy. “Of course. I’m the other woman in your marriage to basketball,” she says, happy with how light her voice sounds.

Kara’s laugh is full and genuine. “It’s true, very scandalous.”

They share a smile, Kara winking at Lena before taking another sip of her drink and Lena feels compelled to ask. “What’s your excuse?”

“For cheating on basketball?”

Lena kicks her under the table. “For being anti-relationship.”

“I’m not,” Kara says with a shrug. “I mean not like, theoretically. I just…my life is about basketball. I love basketball. I live for it. I don’t really have time to think about anything else. I’ve never really considered it.”

“Never?” Lena asks, a touch surprised.

Another shrug. “Maybe I will some day, I don’t know. Like I said, my life is –”

“Basketball,” Lena supplies with a short laugh.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I feel so special you take the time away to see me naked,” Lena jokes.

Kara’s smile makes Lena feel tingly. “You should,” she says, tone low enough that Lena finishes her glass of wine and turns to hail a passing waiter for their check.

--

They don’t see each other the next day. Lena spends it bouncing around the city meeting with executives and talking over sponsorship deals. Several athletes they’re sponsoring have won medals, and she signs congratulatory letters to be given to them. For a second, she imagines signing one to Kara, knowing the somewhat impersonal letter won’t touch what Lena might feel seeing Kara win something so prestigious.

Kara gets put back in the lineup for their next game against Canada. There’s a cute moment during warmups in which M’gann crosses center court to greet her Lakehawks teammates and Kara jokingly makes a throat cutting gesture after hugging her that makes M’gann laugh.

The game is considerably closer than the previous ones, but by the fourth quarter Team USA starts to pull away and by the end of the game their margin of victory is considerable.

Lena doesn’t see Kara after the game. Instead, she catches a late drink with a team of engineers working on a big local project. On the way home from the small bar they’d stopped at, she calls Jack and enjoys the grumpy sound of his voice telling her there’s a time difference, love.

“And the lovely Miss Danvers?” Jack asks after they’ve caught up on each other’s lives. “How is she?”

“Fine,” Lena answers, sliding her keycard into the door and stepping into her hotel room.

“She’s been playing well it seems. From what I’ve caught on the news.”

Lena makes a noncommittal noise, focuses on throwing her purse on a side table and pulling her shirt out of the tight waistband of her skirt. “She’s Kara Danvers,” Lena answers rolling her eyes at the smug way Jack laughs.

“Indeed,” he says and Lena can picture his smirk. “Have you seen much of each other?”

“Jack,” Lena sighs, but she finds herself laughing despite herself. “Find a new hobby.”

He just laughs again. “I do miss you, hope you’re enjoying yourself over there.”

“I miss you too.”

They disconnect and Lena goes about undressing and sliding into bed. She doesn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, she scrolls through her phone and catches the latest Team USA Instagram posts.

There’s an amusing series of the basketball team attempting ping pong ball trick shots before their game earlier. It has Iris West bouncing the ball off three different surfaces and then Kara’s forehead before it bounces into a small plastic cup and the team goes crazy in celebration.

Lena gets lost scrolling through her feed and clicking on profile after profile until she’s watching a post on Lucy’s feed of the Lakehawks trio going through some kind of elaborate dance routine. Lucy is front and center and Lena can imagine that she’s the one that instigated the entire thing. Kara’s behind her, keeping up with the routine, but clearly not invested with the way she keeps laughing at Alex’s attempts to follow the moves.

The video ends with Lucy turning to shove Alex out of frame and Kara sliding towards the camera with a little dance of her head and a laugh before putting her palm to the lens and blacking the screen.

She watches it twice more, ends up down a rabbit hole of the Lakehawks Instagram account posting Kara highlights to fill the void of the Olympic break.

It’s absurd, how much she wants to see Kara. Even when she’s seen her physically in person in the last twenty-four hours, she still wants more. It feels even more crazy in the face of the end looming ahead of her. But she doesn’t stop herself.

It’s maybe a bad decision, but she falls asleep thinking about Kara Danvers trying to ignore the heavy feeling in her chest that tells her exactly how deeply she’s fallen for Kara.

--

USA qualifies for the knockout round and though no one seems particularly surprised by this, Kara is undeniably excited.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your teammates?” Lena asks as they stroll down a small alleyway in the heart of one of Shinjuku’s drinking districts, Golden Gai.

“No one is really celebrating,” Kara says, laughing softly as she peers around them in search of a suitable bar to stop at. “Everyone pretty much expected to make it out of groups.”

They manage to find a place that isn’t already packed and doesn’t seem put off by the entrance of two foreigners. The bar, like most in this area, is incredibly small. Small enough that Kara has to duck a little when she walks in behind Lena. They squeeze on to two bar stools towards the end and order drinks.

It’s comforting to be tucked into a little corner in close proximity to Kara. It feels a bit like their own little hideaway. There are only two other patrons – that’s about all that can fit in the place – and they’re locked in a lively conversation with their bartender.

It leaves Kara and Lena to themselves and Lena enjoys the soft feeling of sitting in Kara’s company and sipping at a well made gin and tonic.

“To the knockout round,” Lena pronounces, holding her glass up.

Kara clinks her own rum and cola against Lena’s and smiles. “To victory.”

There’s something about the self-assured way Kara always talks about basketball that has started to become Pavlovian to Lena. The way her smirk turns upward, the little ridiculous wink she punctuates the cheers with, it all makes Lena’s body feel warm and it has nothing to do with just how close they’re sitting together.