Work Text:
“Kara, I don’t know if I can overstate just how lucky you are. Not many people have seen what I’m about to show you.”
Though she couldn’t see her well as they walked down the unlit path, Lena could tell Kara was smiling by her tone of voice.
“So we’re just going to pretend I wasn’t the one begging you to see them for several weeks now?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about,” Lena returned with joking formality.
As they made their way towards the looming silhouette of the warehouse, Lena wondered if this really was a good idea. Kara certainly seemed to think so, if the effervescent enthusiasm was anything to go by. And there was more than a sliver of curiosity on her own part as to what the impressions would be – not so much as to the quality of her paintings, but rather the content. The problem was that Lena had already made her peace with the nature of the relationship between the two of them and all this little excursion was doing is bringing back hopes she’d only recently managed to bury.
To be fair, she had no one to blame but herself. She’d been stuck in “they must hate me because I’m a Luthor” mode for so long that Kara took her by surprise. One moment the bubbly blonde was in her office questioning her about the explosion, practically the next she was bringing her doughnuts, using her position at CatCo to put a positive spin on Lena’s conference, introducing her to Supergirl (who was amazing, though not really Lena’s type) or simply being there for a comforting hug when Lena needed it most. By the time she realized the nature of her affection for Kara it had been too late. Before she could even say “You know, I think I’d rather date you,” Kara was all “Nope, we’re friends.”
And that’s all there was to it.
Not that Lena hadn’t tried. Too late probably, but she did try. Though – in retrospect – she probably should’ve been a tad more obvious. Perhaps instead of hoping Kara would notice the blatantly on-the-nose renaming of the company to L-corp, something clearer would’ve sufficed. Like changing her business card from “Lena Luthor, L-corp CEO’ to ‘Lena Luthor, gayer than a clown at a balloon factory.’ Instead, she stupidly went for mere hints.
The lip bite had been a bust, of course. Though to this day Lena couldn’t for the life of her come up with something that screamed “woman, I want you” more than that. Then there was the entirely accidental choice of a movie for them to watch together – the not at all suggestively titled lesbian romcom ‘Imagine me and you,’ which was apparently not suggestive enough for a certain budding journalist. And of course, a roomful of flowers ostensibly sent in gratitude yet – also quite accidentally – made up of red tulips entirely. At least that last one made it clear flower symbolism wasn’t Kara’s strong suit.
What did seem to be her specialty however, was making Lena question her own sanity. Because despite everything she now knew to be true, there were still these... moments. A lingering gaze here, a friendly smile there (with a pinch of something that Lena could swear was not just her imagination) – or a hug that lasted far longer than their nascent friendship would warrant. That’s all it took for Lena’s perfectly functioning gaydar to melt into a pile of useless scrap. Yet it was all clearly in her mind because the whole thing had been, as far as Lena was concerned, a bit like landing an aircraft: She being the ramp marshal manically waving her signal lights and Kara cluelessly whooshing right over her head.
So she settled for this whole... friendship thing, which was fine. Better than fine, in fact – nowadays the word didn’t even make her wince as it did in the beginning and Kara turned out to be the most wonderful girlfriend Lena had ever had. Their friendship was something she would not change for the world, unless that came with a gay Kara that’s slightly into her. As for this world, the forecast seemed to be straight showers with no chance of rainbows. Therefore, the only thing left for Lena to do was to ever-so-casually shed some light on her sexuality, and hope that that would at least put an end to the neverending inquires about her dating prospects.
With that in mind, Lena’s accidental mention of her past hobby to Kara should work in her favor. What better segue than ‘You know, I used to do a little bit of painting’. And the content... well, that was best omitted at the time. Difficult to phrase, is what it was. Because her works weren’t nudes, per say. Rather, tasteful depictions of the female form that in certain instances happen to feature some nudity.
Well, more than some.
And... maybe in all instances.
But Kara did demand to see them, so why not kill two birds with one stone? There was a nice gradation to it even: Kara, I paint nudes; Kara, I’m gay; Kara, I’m starving and you look positively edible.
Okay, maybe not that last one.
*
“Um, Lena?”
Torn from her brief reverie, Lena realized they were standing at the entrance, while Kara patiently waited for her to enter the door code.
Right. The code.
Why the hell didn’t I change it?!
It’s okay though. Kara is perceptive, but surely she wouldn’t pay attention to a seemingly random sequence of numbers? No, of course not. Because if she did, Lena would be the first verified case of blushing and embarrassment proving lethal.
Completely casually, she typed in 5527772 and glanced over at Kara who seemed none the wiser.
Oh thank god.
The door clicked open and they made their way inside. A few switch flips, and the vast interior of the warehouse was lit up by a quick succession of neon lights. As they walked between shelves stacked with countless crates and cases of every conceivable size, Kara’s eyes darted about curiously.
“Wow, what is all this stuff?”
“Oh you know,” Lena replied nonchalantly. “Missiles, deadly toxins, alien artifacts and other weapons of mass destruction. The usual.”
Kara smirked at the commentary, but her gaze was reprimanding. “What did I say about reading all that nonsense?”
“Well, I may read it, Kara, but only on a ‘know your enemy’ basis. There’s only one journalist whose reporting I implicitly trust.”
“Really? Any... anyone I know?” Kara returned with the barest hint of a smile topped with transparently feigned ignorance.
“I think so – Snapper Carr?”
Cue the fish-out-of-water Kara and a look of pure outrage. “Oh, you... That--! I can’t even...”
Lena shot her an impish grin, before leaving the aghast blonde frozen in place while she proceeded forward. “That’s what you get for trying to be cute, Kara.”
“So I’m not cute, is that what you’re saying?” Kara prompted as she caught up to her.
Somewhere in the distance, Lena could swear she heard the sound of gaydars exploding. “No, no, I didn’t say that,” she returned, and made a point to keep her eyes forward lest this turn into one of those moments. And she kept at it until they finally reached their destination.
This smaller section was luckily secured only by a lock, thus allowing Lena to avoid engraving that completely random number into Kara’s mind. She entered the room and flicked the light on, and Kara followed suit.
“So, these are... most of my works,” Lena indicated a bunch of paintings stacked up against the wall and covered for dust. “But honestly, Kara, it’s just something I dabbled in for a little while, they’re really not that...” In contrast to minute but growing unease Lena was feeling, Kara seemed positively giddy with excitement. She ignored Lena’s last-ditch attempt to call this thing off and knelt down to reveal the first painting. Oh god. Here goes... “And I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it, but I actually painted mostly--”
“Oh my god!”
”... nudes.” Great. Just great. Of course she would think that--
“This is absolutely amazing!”
It took a couple of seconds for Lena to remember that blinking in shock was not the most eloquent of responses. “Y-you really think so?”
“Of course!” Kara enthused. “I mean – granted – I wouldn’t know art if you dipped in chocolate and covered it in sprinkles but these are... wow.” She moved a painting to the side upon inspecting each one with unconcealed fascination. “So lifelike...” she murmured as her eyes darted across the canvas, trailing in air the contours of each subject as if trying to feel them. Then after a few more paintings, she turned to Lena with a reprimanding glare.
“Dabbled? Dabbled, you say?”
“Well, I mean...” Lena started with an abashed grin.
“Oh, don’t even, Lena. Don’t. Even. I’m mad enough you hid these from me for so long. But you try downplaying your talent one more time and I’ll...”
“You’ll what?” she arched an inquisitive eyebrow.
“I shall have to administer a proper thrashing,” Kara returned in a British accent, “Downton Abbey style.”
“And here I thought we were friends,” Lena gasped with pretend indignation.
“Well I guess that depends on what else you’re hiding from me.”
Oh.
Wow.
Okay.
Wow.
Kara had spoken the words with joking offhandedness, but they gave Lena pause. ‘Kara, did you happen to notice how all my subjects are female...’
“So who is she?”
What?! “I’m sorry?”
“The girl.” Kara gestured towards several paintings with the same subject. Detailed faces weren’t really a part of Lena’s repertoire, but the pixie cut (in the most beautiful alizarin crimson) was a dead giveaway. Well, no time like the present.
“Oh, she’s just an ex...” Girlfriend. Girl... friend. G. I. R. L. “... friend.” Well done, you blew it.
Kara, of course, looked up in confusion: “Ex friend?”
“I mean – you know... we sort of drifted apart.”
“Oh, okay. I was wondering why you stopped doing her.”
Luckily, Kara was still sifting through her works, because the wide-eyed shock on Lena’s face would probably have made her a tad suspicious. “What do you mean?”
“Well these are your last ones right? Cause I noticed you have quite a few of her at the beginning and none later. Was just wondering...” Kara trailed off, leaving Lena mouthing one nascent response after the other before giving up completely. Thankfully, Kara was too busy looking at the paintings. Then the little journalistic inspection, as Kara called it, slowly came to an end. Kara stood up, hands crossed over her chest as she scrutinized Lena analytically.
“So how come you gave it up?”
“Oh you know,” Lena began, doing her best to give off a disinterested disposition. “Mother never really supported my doing it. I kept at it for a while, but after taking over the company I barely have time for a decent night’s sleep, let alone a hobby. Then there’s also the thing about finding a subject, and really – by this time I’m a little out of shape. I probably--”
“Well I guess we’ll just have to lick you into shape,” Kara interrupted, with a wink that almost made Lena melt into a little gay puddle right then and there.
Lick.
Right.
Yes.
It’s just a phrase Lena, snap out of it.
“And as for subjects, I’m sure someone will come along and you’ll be back to it in no time. You’re painting again, and that’s all there is to it. No buts, no ifs, no excuses.”
“Oh, are you offering to do it?” Lena feigned being every-so-pleasantly shocked. That should put a stop to any ideas Kara was having.
“What? Me? Pfff, no... I could, you, never, I mean I would, it’s just that...”
It was just a joke; Lena dying to see which of them would win this particular game of chicken, but watching Kara fumble for words made her continue for just a bit longer. “Well, if you won’t be my subject, then I’m not painting.”
“Oh, that--! So not fair. Lena--!”
“Sorry, miss Danvers, that’s my price. Take it or leave it.”
It was a good thing Kara would never accept in a million years, because if there was even a tiniest of chances she would consider the idea, Lena would’ve dropped the playful banter and explained her duties as CEO don’t exactly leave much time for hobbies. So, confident that that would be the end of it, Lena headed back to the exit.
*
“What if--?”
“No.”
“Okay, but just hear me out. We could find--”
“Sorry, Kara. My mind is made up.”
Lena should’ve put a stop to it, but glancing at Kara as she drove her home, and seeing her bounce back and forth between stubborn determination and blushing dismay in a veritable allegretto of excuses was simply too amusing. Any second now Lena will tell her it’s not about the subject, but about free time. Any second now.
“Lena, look – I can’t, okay? I’m not a model. I don’t pose, for nudes or otherwise. Hell, especially nudes. Not for anyone, not for anything. I wouldn’t do it if my life depended on it – if your life depended on it. I mean, okay... fair’s fair – if you’re ever in a situation where some quick nudity will save your life, I’ll do it. You bet. I got you covered. But this, I just... you know how they say there’s multiple universes? Well if that’s true, this universe would be called the one where Kara Danvers doesn’t pose naked. I mean nude. Is there a difference? Never mind... What I mean to say is that I’d be a terrible, awful subject. I’m not photogenic is what’s the biggest problem. And I’m restless, you’d have me squirming and moving all over the place! You don’t want to have to deal with that. Trust me Lena, I’m the last person in the world you’d want to see nake-- stop laughing! I’m serious. So yeah, no... I mean, terrible, terrible idea... Right. Yeah... Um, but hypothetically speaking...”
*
Lena couldn’t tell at what point had Kara’s intent to win the little game of chicken between them morphed into an actual willingness to pose for her, but seeing the blonde’s jolly face at her doorstep the next day truly made her realize she was in quite a bit of trouble. The second she opened the door, Kara breezed past her with a casual ‘hey you,’ as if to divest Lena of all possible excuses. Lena followed her determined gait with some unease, pondering the moral implications of all of this.
On the one hand, it was just a painting, and now (off the back of her own stupid joke) Kara was the one insisting on it. On the other, Lena wondered if her friend would be as eager if she knew the extent of Lena’s feelings. It felt like a betrayal of sorts, hiding not only her own sexual orientation but her attraction to Kara. With that in mind, it was best to call the whole thing off.
“Kara... could we talk for a second?”
“Oh, no!” Kara shook her head. “I know that tone and I know that look. Don’t even think about backing out of this.” She then stood in front of Lena with an assuaging smile, placing her hands on Lena’s shoulders. “It’s no big deal, okay? It’s just a painting. And... I get to keep it, right?”
“Yes, of course, but...”
“No buts. Well, not until I take my clothes off,” she added bawdily with a chuckle. “And really, I think I’m over the whole discomfort thing. Unless you’re uncomfortable?”
“N-no,” Lena replied, simmering in discomfort.
“Great, so we’re doing this.”
It was then that a little light bulb went up in Lena’s head. Apprehension aside, she also had a strange feeling about Kara’s insistence. And she couldn’t quite put her finer on what it was until now. But this... it reminded of her those moments. The moments that, to her mind, transgressed against the boundary they’d tacitly agreed to. Honestly, who demands to pose naked for their best friend? What if Lena was so determined to close herself off to the possibility of there actually being something to this that she was now missing Kara’s own signals? What if Kara actually did--
No, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Stop doing this to yourself!
No. No moments, no signals, no change of hearts. Lots of best friends pose nude for each other. Probably.
And either way, Lena is going to be professional. Yes, the most gorgeous creature in the western hemisphere is going to pose nude for her, but like Kara said – it’s no big deal. And Lena did her best to come off as thinking that while they chatted. Most of it was the usual friendly banter, the only difference being this looming thing they were about to do. Lena smiled and nodded, offering responses almost automatically. Until at some point she realized she was focusing way too much on Kara’s lips, pondering the etymology of the word ‘kissable.’
Stop it. Stop looking at her lips. Look at something else – look at her shoulder!
“Um, why are you looking at my shoulder?”
Oh, crap. “I, uh...” Crap, crap, crap. “I’m sketching you.”
“Huh?”
“Mentally. For the painting.”
“Oh. That’s a thing?”
Nope, I’m full of it. “Of course.”
“Alrighty then. Shall we?”
They moved from the living room to the atelier, which Lena took the liberty of equipping with all the necessities. The most important thing, Lena concluded, was not to look. Yes, Kara was taking her clothes off, and yes Lena couldn’t help noticing through her peripheral vision a red bra and – as if in complete mockery of Lena’s boyshorts fetish – lacy blue pair of boyshort panties. But honestly, none of that mattered to her, neither the type nor the unusual colors (that reminded Lena of something, but she wasn’t sure what.) The important thing was that she wasn’t looking.
“So do I need to come back a couple of times or...?”
“Hm? Oh, n-no... We’ll do it alla prima.”
“Alla prima, yes,” Kara nodded seriously, “that’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“It means ‘in one sitting’,” Lena smiled, pretending to check the canvas.
“Ah! Gotcha.”
After that, the bra was off and Lena suddenly developed an irrepressible amount of burning interest for her painting supplies. Yes, best to... best to focus on those.
Watercolor canvas? Check.
Paintbrush set? Check.
Graphite pencil? Check.
A spanking new set of Schmincke watercolors? Check. (Eat your heart out, Artist’s Loft)
Two water cups, one for clean, one for dirty water? Check.
One increasingly nude personification of temptation, sent to Earth just to torment Lena Luthor? Double check.
It was a sound strategy; one that seemed to be working well. But Lena was soon faced with the fact that there was a prerequisite to painting nudes: Namely, you had to actually look at your subject. Who knew?
Right. Looking. Honestly, she was making mountain out of a molehill here. She’d seen plenty of women sans clothing, and there was absolutely no reason why this should be oh my fucking god, why are you so god damn perfect?
Lena barely had a few seconds to catch sight of the elegant hillocks of pert breasts, the hint of toned muscles of Kara’s stomach, down to the legs so perfect they defied description (Lena was fairly certain ‘lickable’ isn’t an actual word) – before Kara’s words finally registered.
“So... where do you want me?”
Still half-hypnotized, Lena sighed a wistful little hum and then muttered under her breath: “On my face?”
“What?”
“What?” Oh fuck my life.
“I didn’t catch that.”
“The chaise,” Lena blurted out quickly, mentally trying to keep herself from blushing. “On the chaise would be great.”
“Okay,” Kara nodded, a shy, almost unwitting smile tugging at her lips. Meanwhile, Lena was busy thanking god Kara didn’t have super-hearing, because if she did, Lena would’ve been fucked.
After that, she gave her a few instructions as to the proper position of her torso, the arms, the legs, my god, those le-- stop it!
Professionalism. That’s the key.
Pencil in hand, she began to sketch out a crude outline. Little by little, body shapes formed, though in truth, her hand moved practically of its own volition. Drawing on autopilot is probably the best that you can do when your mind is stuck in a tug of war: One half trying to maintain a semblance of composure and focus on the task at hand, the other, entertaining thoughts of an entirely inappropriate nature. But it really wasn’t her fault. These were intrusive thoughts after all, so she was in about as much control as she would be hanging onto a branch amidst a raging river. And given who her subject was, was it even surprising that one glance at those lips made her want to drop the bloody pencil, and with her eyes focused on Kara, slowly close the distance between them, reach down to move the blonde tresses aside before pressing her lips to-- No.
No.
Drawing.
Painting.
Sketching.
Whatever.
Just keep working. The sketching was done, probably, so the faster she moves on to actual painting, the faster this would be over.
Now the watercolors. A brand new set, something Lena always adored trying out. That should provide enough distraction, just to pull herself together. What this also did was remind her she’d completely forgot to swatch the things. A shame really, since the new set came with a nifty swatch chart that would’ve made the activity even more enjoyable. Now, she couldn’t really have her subject wait around while she did it; not many people would find interest in things like staining, permanence, granulation or opacity. Unless... she found another way to involve her? Maybe Kara wouldn’t mind shifting to a supine position, as Lena brought the brush just over the flat expanse of her stomach; dark magenta. Further down, a soft stroke over her inner thigh; Prussian blue. Lower, across her calf; medium aquamarine. Then up, a line on her forearm; pale turquoise. A faint inhale from Kara’s lips, with the soft hairs of the brush enveloping a turgid nipple before swirling around it; sinopia.
Oh... god.
Maybe the whole approach was wrong. Maybe Lena should focus more on the contents of the actual canvas and less on wondering if it would be scientifically feasible to spend about a month between Kara’s thighs. Or maybe she should just rush to the nearest church and plunge her head into a basin of holy water.
“Something wrong?”
Oh. She hadn’t been doing any actual painting. A quick excuse should do the trick.
“Everything is fine,” Lena smiled at her. “I just need a little breast, that’s all.”
She drew two more swipes across the canvas before she glanced up and saw Kara staring at her, eyebrows raised to space-faring heights.
“Rest!” Lena blurted out in panic the instant her she realized what had actually left her mouth. “I-I meant rest... the, uh... hand, my hand gets tired and...” Just... stop... talking.
“Right,” Kara offered a reassuring smile, which did nothing to erase the all-consuming embarrassment Lena was feeling.
Swatching? Why don’t you swatch that blush on your face, you idiot!
No, no... she could do this. Somehow, she would leave this room alive. She just needed to move the actual brush; ignore the sheen of sweat at back of her neck. Swallow. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. It was egregious, really. One would think it was Lena posing nude for a painting. Meanwhile, Kara, despite her earlier misgivings, seemed perfectly at ease. And despite the self-deprecating comments, her pose was one of utmost grace, her body an image of flawless perfection (tautologies be damned). To think she’d been worried, actually worried... Lena had trouble imagining any position in which Kara wouldn’t look as mesmerizing – not that thinking about Kara in different positions was something Lena should be currently doing, because that’s an awfully slippery slope that could lead to Kara propping up to change her position, as she lay to her side, the rays from the skylight caressing the soft curves of her derriere. Another shift, a different pose: eye locked onto Lena’s, sitting en face with a gentle smile gracing her face. Then: legs spread in an uncharacteristically wanton manner, like innocence wreathed in depravity. Hand trailing downward to the hair adorning her sex. A slow caress; content hums that gradually turn to moans. Composure lessened, movement quickened, eyes always on Lena’s even as her slick fingers--
Stop.
Stop it. Kara would never do something--
“I do that sometimes, you know?”
Lena froze. “I’m sorry?”
“I also bite my lower lip when I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Oh,” Lena flashed a brief, uncomfortable smile. “Right.” Of course, that’s why Lena was doing it.
Okay, so it wasn’t the approach. As much as she tried to deny it, Lena was now forced to admit it: The subject was the problem. Excessive detail never was a feature of Lena’s work, but she’d personally always adored the female form, in all its various shapes, with many a different imperfection. There was beauty in that difference, as opposed to the plastic, uniform look born of endless photoshopping. Kara, however, was not really cooperating there. Lena had trouble finding a single part of her that didn’t seem sculpted to perfection. If she hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought Kara was not actually human. Which was a silly idea of course, but still... she seemed possessed of a certain allure that made even being in her presence a little dangerous. One look in her eyes and Lena’s heart would skip a bit, in disbelief of the vision that was a nude Kara walking slowly toward her. Painting forgotten, the space behind her lesser with every step she tried retreating. A hand on her thigh, Kara’s lips ghosting a kiss over her own. A teasing trail of fingers across the fabric of her underwear, a deft motion and... Kara was inside her. Breathless, mewling sounds from her throat, a vague sensation of kisses on her neck. The drumbeat of her heart, the quickened breathing, impending release to send her careening over the edge. And Kara’s voice, husky, teasing, drawing nearer to ask--
“Are you close?”
Lena’s eyes darted upwards, mind mired in the haze of confusion. There was something unsettling about reality bleeding into her thoughts like a reactivated layer of color. “Close?”
“To finishing?”
“Oh!, Yes, I think I’m about...”
Lena looked at the canvas with renewed clarity and froze.
She couldn’t say how long she’d spent working, but she could certainly tell she was in huge trouble.
Because staring back at her was the result of her efforts, which Kara would be anxious to see, and all she could muster in all of this time was... a stick figure. With tits.
Excellent. Well done, Lena, you venerable behemoth of the art world.
Now what the hell do I do?!
Luckily, not all fortune seemed to have deserted her as she remembered her one possible saving grace.
One of the advantages of a watercolor canvas was that you could easily wash everything away with no traces remaining. She’d hate seeing Kara disappointed but there was really no other way.
“Kara, look... I’m sorry,” she offered a pleading apology, as she did away with the artwork that would’ve put Modigliani to shame. “But this really isn’t any good.”
“Wait, what are you...?” Kara jumped up as soon as she realized what was happening, and barely managed to grab the sheet Lena had left on the chaise for her convenience. She wrapped the thing around her body and joined Lena, her heart clearly sinking at the sight of the empty canvas. “Oh, Lena... why... It doesn’t matter how good it is, it’s your first painting after a long time. You shouldn’t give up so easily.”
“I know, you’re right... I just... maybe I should find someone else to paint,” she said. Then rather than offering yet another excuse or little lie, she concluded she owed Kara at least some truth. “Honestly, Kara... I don’t think I could ever do you justice.”
Kara seemed taken aback for a second, before her lips curved into a smile. “You say the silliest things,” she noted, and with her free hand pulled Lena into a hug. “I’m sure you would do me just fine.”
Oh sweet mother of god, she did not just say that.
When they pulled apart, Lena did her best to appear as though her eyes did not just threaten to pop out from shock.
“You know, I’ll forgive you once, but when we do this next time, I expect to see some results.”
“Right, of course,” Lena nodded. “And again, I’m sorry for...” Wait, what? “Kara... what do you mean, next time?”