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“Catra, please , wake up.”
Adora struggles under Catra’s hands, but her struggling is futile, as Catra pushes her further and further into the green pool.
“I don’t know what you mean, Adora. I’m already awake.”
“Please, Catra , this isn’t you, I—”
Adora is silenced when Catra forces Adora’s head under the surface.
Adora shakes and thrashes against her, but it’s no use.
She stills, and Catra releases her.
Adora emerges from the pool, face serene.
As her eyes open, she smiles, and her eyes glow green.
Catra wakes up.
She blinks, at the ceiling, as her brain catches up to what it just saw.
She sits up, and she isn’t sweating, she isn’t shaking.
She didn’t cry out when she awoke.
Slowly, her body catches up to the fact she had been having nightmare.
That she should have been scared.
She glances at Adora’s face, slack and drooling beside her, before she pushes Adora’s arm off of her, and sits on the edge of the bed.
That’s when the fear really grips her.
Cold and slimy, worming its way through her, stealing away the warmth from her body.
Reminding her that everything she is can be taken away.
Catra sighs, and drops her head into her hands.
She is twenty-four years old. It has been three years since Hordak Prime fell.
All the Hordaks have been reintegrated into society.
Magic has been returned to their corner of the universe, and they’ve passed on the torch for spreading to the rest of the universe.
It has been three fucking years.
Catra lets out a shaky sigh.
She runs her claws through her short-cropped hair.
She’d cut it a month ago.
Tried to…
Own it.
Or…
Something.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Melog wakes, from where they had lain curled at Adora and Catra’s feet.
They make a wordless meow, and plod their way to Catra’s side.
They headbutt Catra’s side not-very-gently, and meow again, a warmth washing over Catra.
An image of a rainbow, the sun rising over the moonstone, a thick slab of raw meat.
Catra coughs out a laugh, and tangles her fingers in the ethereal material of Melog’s mane.
“Thanks, Melog,” Catra says, quiet enough only the two of them could hear it.
Melog murrs at her, preening, images of several slabs of raw meat washing over them.
Catra laughs again.
“You’re such a shit,” she says, as Melog crawls their way into Catra’s lap, their claws sharp and painful against Catra’s bare fur, prodding at Catra’s legs to adjust them into a more comfortable surface, doing a full three-hundred sixty degree spin before they drop their entire body on Catra’s lap.
Some blurred images and vague feelings pass between them as Melog’s eyes drift closed.
Catra scritches at the furr beneath Melog’s ears, and they let out a long, loud purr.
“Very subtle,” Catra says, as an image of Catra scritching Melog behind the ears washes over her.
She receives a wave of self-satisfaction in response, as Melog kneads her legs, telling her to hurry it up.
Melog rubs their face into her abdomen, just, very, very close to her crotch, and Catra pushes them a bit away, muttering “Personal Space, Melog.”
Melog makes a disdainful noise, and then licks at her abdomen, just be a shit.
She giggles at the feeling, Melog’s tongue catching on her fur and pulling in a way which is just—
Not at all a feeling which she wants to feel with Melog on her lap.
She pushes them off her lap and onto the ground, and they go with an indignant squeal, landing straight on their back, because they’re way too much of a doofus to land on their feet.
She gets a wave of playful irritation, and then Melog has bounded up on top of her, throwing her back into the sleeping Adora.
“Huh wha?” Adora says, not actually awake, but her closest arm coming up into a weird hug/choke-hold around Catra’s neck all the same.
Melog preens from where they stand on Catra’s chest, standing on just all of the most uncomfortable places they can while they flip their weird illusion mane in pride.
“Off off off,” Catra complains, flailing at Melog until they fall onto the bed beside her.
“Wha,” Adora says, still mostly asleep, “why.”
Melog, tired from their game of stand-on-Catra’s boobs, curls up beside Catra, content to just occasionally whack Catra with their tail.
Catra drops a hand to their head and scritches it as she rolls her head to look up at her wife as she slowly wakes up.
“Catra,” she says, blinking sleepily as she twists a bit to meet Catra’s eyes, the hand she’s using to hold Catra to her chest toying with her hair. “What time is it?”
Catra shrugs, and Adora coughs out a low, rumbling chuckle.
She tires of her headlock, and traces her hand down the length of Catra’s arm, smiling when Catra tangles their fingers together.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Adora says, her eyes slowly clearing, raising her other arm to cradle Catra’s head to her chest.
Catra looks away, having almost been able to forget.
“Sorry,” Adora says, her voice still a little sleep-slurred. “How bad was it?”
Catra looks up at the ceiling, finally turns her head back to Adora. The hand that is still cradling her head trails its fingers down her cheek, and Adora smiles at her, still bleary-eyed and slow.
“Bad,” Catra says.
Adora makes a sympathetic noise, and hugs Catra’s face closer to her, which incidentally reminds her that she is laying down on Adora’s breasts.
“I’m sorry,” Adora says. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Melog echoes the sentiment, a meow of warmth and sunrises and steak.
Catra scritches at their head, and does her best to respond in kind.
Melog purrs, and nuzzles at Catra’s hand.
The purr is contagious, and Catra finds herself purring with them, and then Adora’s chest vibrates with a little hum of happiness.
Adora’s eyes are starting to droop, and Catra smiles at her sleep-stupid face.
“Come up here,” Adora says, voice slow. “I can’t—” she makes a sleepy little smacking of her lips, “—I can’t kiss you when you’re all the way—” Adora’s voice drifts off again, and it takes her a bit longer to recenter herself the second time “—all the way down there.”
Catra smiles and Adora scrunches her face up in a way that’s so sleepy and so cute in return.
“All the way down here, huh?” Catra teases.
Adora nods, eyes closed.
“You’re so far away,” she says, voice slurred.
Catra gives Melog a last scritch, and then rotates herself so that she’s laying on top of Adora, smiling down at Adora’s face, eyes closed, breath even.
She tickles Adora’s face with her tail, and Adora makes a face.
“Under…” she hums, “Under the covers,” she says.
With some difficulty, Catra maneuvers her way under the covers, and Adora smiles.
A leaden, heavy hand falls on her back, and Adora lifts her head, lips searching.
Catra bites back a smile, drinking in the sight of sleep-stupid Adora, face so soft and so stupid and so cute.
Adora’s eyes squint open, and she narrows her eyes weakly.
“ Catraaa ,” she whines.
Catra toys with the idea of continuing to hover her face, just out of Adora’s reach, but thinks better of the plan which involves not kissing Adora, and presses their lips together when Adora lifts her head at Catra again.
It’s slow and messy, Adora barely moving her lips and her tongue, her eyes closed and breaths so even Catra is sure she’ll fall asleep at any moment.
Catra drinks in every moment of it, overwriting the blank smile of her nightmare that had felt like a dream (her dream that had actually been a nightmare?) with this Adora, sleep-stupid and gentle and just so, so cute.
She raises her hands to Adora’s face, pulls her close, and Adora hums happily.
When they finally separate, Adora is totally still, eyes closed, breath even.
Catra laughs under her breath—” I feel like I should be offended ,” she mutters, barely a whisper, and then slides off of Adora’s chest, and slots herself into Adora’s side.
About two minutes into Catra drinking Adora’s stupid face in, Adora speaks, and Catra jumps a bit in surprise.
“Mel—” she stops to hum, “Melog,” she says, waving the hand Catra slipping under her head at Melog. “I—I love you, but…” she takes a deep breath, soft and mumbly, and it takes her at least like ten seconds to continue. “…go away.”
Catra coughs out a laugh as Melog makes an irritated noise.
“Adora, do you really want to have sex right now?”
Adora takes another deep breath that she lets out with a weirdly mumbly little hum.
“Don’t you—” she swallows, and turns her face to Catra, squinting her eyes open. “Don’t you remember?”
Her eyes slowly shutter closed, and she moves her hand from Melog’s head to Catra’s back fur. Catra waits for her Adora continue, but she doesn’t, just keeps running her fingers across Catra’s back.
“Remember what?” Catra asks as Melog slinks grumpily from the room.
Catra twists over and pushes her best apology at Melog before they leave.
Melog’s face indicates that this is insufficient before they vanish out the window, and crawl up to the roof.
Meanwhile, Adora is mumbling again.
“In—In On The Many Dangers of Mammalian Intercourse .”
Catra sets her hand on Adora’s ridiculous abs, and traces her fingers over them.
“Uh-huh,” she encourages.
“Danger number…” Adora grumble-mumble-moans, “…three.”
Catra laughs.
“That sex makes you fall asleep?”
Adora nods, face stupid and quite self-satisfied.
“Which you definitely need right now.”
Adora nods again, slower.
“I don’t think…” another deep breath, blowing her hot breath all over Catra’s face. Catra gives her a second. And then another ten. “…I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep without it,” she finally says.
Catra hides her smile in Adora’s bicep.
She presses a kiss their while she’s at it.
Adora hums happily, her smile dopey and stupid, eyes closed.
“‘s your fault,” she says, after what is definitely a minute. “Being all pretty.” She takes a deep, sleepy breath, lets it out. “‘n on my boobs.”
Catra laughs.
Adora’s hand gropes awkwardly down Catra’s body, and it really says something about how Catra feels about her that it feels good, even when she’s fat-fingering it up.
Catra slips her own hands down Adora’s body, through her surprisingly wet curls, cups the full length of her.
Adora makes a muffled, sleepy moan, but doesn’t actually open her eyes.
Catra touches her as gently as she can, and watches as Adora flushes and moans softly, eyes never opening.
She gives Adora’s bumbling fingers a little help, as Adora’s breath quickens, and her flush spreads down her chest. The sight of Adora, flushed and sleep-soft, and the feel of her fingers that, despite their lack of dexterity, are so gentle and loving means she doesn’t have to give as much help as she probably should.
They don’t quite come together, but it’s a close thing, Catra shaking as Adora moans it out, eyes still closed, but fingers as gentle and loving as always, and it kind of destroys her.
Adora is so in love with her that even half-asleep and coming, her fingers still touch Catra like she’s something precious, something wonderful.
“‘m only Etherian, Adora whispers after they’ve both come down, like it hasn’t been ten minutes, rolling towards Catra and throwing the arm that was just inside Catra over her.
She watches as Adora’s face relaxes that final little bit, and her body falls limp against Catra.
Her smile remains, stupid and dopey, and Catra smiles.
She can feel Melog slink back into the room, muttering in emotions and images about stupid etherians and their stupid sex . They clomp grumpily over to them and then throw themselves over Adora and Catra’s midsections with a huff.
It was just a dream , Catra reminds herself, reveling in the weight of Melog above her, the feel of Adora beneath her fingertips.
She pulls Adora a little closer, curls up to put her head against Adora’s chest.
It was just a dream .