bakerstreet | Nursed back to health ( shipping )

[Some of the tension coiled tight in her muscles eases with Adora's assertion, and Catra heaves out an aggrieved sigh. Right before she leans forward on her knees, draping her arms around Adora and resting her chin in the crook of her (slightly wet, and Catra makes a face at her own bad life choices) neck. It only takes a moment before she huffs another irritated breath, and her drape becomes more of a hug as she wraps her arms around Adora's warm chest. Her fur might be uncomfortable for Adora's heated skin, and Catra will let go soon... but she's always been a selfish person, and she just wants to. Hold this idiot. Just for a while.

Because not that she was insecure or anything about it (--except, you know. The fact that that's a lie.), but it's gratifying to hear Adora commit. To her. To letting her help. To not doing things that make it seem like she doesn't want Catra around.]

Think about that stuff later. [And her tone is wry, now; as if there isn't a not unpleasant flutter of butterflies in her stomach. --But that'll be nice. Kissing Adora. Maybe Adora will keep her shirt off and hair loose for it, and some of those idle daydreams of the past will finally find their way into reality, and there'll be a flush on her skin for an entirely different reason.] You're way too gross to be talking about kissing right now.

[That's also a lie, but it's one that Catra's good at - convincing herself of reasons to not kiss her best friend. She went all those years without giving in to the urge to press herself against Adora's lips; she can manage, what? Three days? Piece of cake.]

[ Through hazy giddiness, Adora places a hand on one of Catra's arms and begins to stroke lazy circles there, her senses inundated by the warm thrum of her body pressed flush against her back, and finds herself breathing in time with her. Adora thinks of all the times she'd wanted this, even when the space between them had been as deep and long as a gorge, after they'd fought as enemies and left both Adora's mind and heart in a state of tumult. Always, she's always wanted Catra -- it had been confusing and but a indistinguishable ember then, but now there is no mistaking the pyre that spreads out from deep inside her chest and reaches every inch of her, mercilessly. Because whilst she had been willing to die for everyone, she'd chose to live for Catra; to love and be loved, to stay. She isn't going to let go. ]

Catra. [ Her names tumbles from Adora's mouth, dulcet and just above a whisper. ] I love you.

[ And Adora can't help herself when she curls her fingers around Catra's arm, raises it until it meets her mouth and places a reverent kiss near her pulse. She lets her lips linger there on the soft, warm fur for a second longer before mumbling a sound of protest. ] I'm not that gross. [ Another kiss, travelling downwards to Catra's palm. Adora sighs into it, the sudden rush of exhaustion betraying her. ] I should be all better by morning. I think.

Edited 2020-06-07 13:08 (UTC)

[She'd be lying if she claimed that the stroke of Adora's fingers didn't send a shiver through her, or if she said that the fur around the area didn't raise from the prickle of gooseflesh. But it's the gentle press of Adora's lips against her pulse that causes the hitch in Catra's breath, and the widening of her eyes as another brushes her palm. She has, inexplicably, the urge to jerk her hand away in defense; and it takes a lot of self-control for her body to settle for a single spasm that curls her fingers.

It's stupid. It's so stupid, and she doesn't know why that's how she reacts. (--Because gentle touches have never meant anything good for her. There's always a threat in them, they're always meant to disarm her so the real blow strikes harder. She does know it, she just doesn't want to admit it. Doesn't want to admit that even though she trusts Adora, that's still the reaction that she has.)

Her laugh is breathless when it escapes her throat, and she gently twists her hand free to lean over Adora and reclaim the abandoned washcloth. She returns to steadying her shortly thereafter, shifting to sit with her knees on either side of Adora and wrapping an arm around her to tug her gently backwards; urging her to lean against Catra.]

Morning, huh? [There's a hint of nerves buried under the amusement. Adora looks like she's all but asleep already. Idly, Catra wonders if she even knows what day it is.] You're setting a schedule for your germs?

[ Adora submits to Catra's ministrations readily, reposing into her loose embrace. The sigh it elicits from her is appreciative and languorous, and her eyes close with a slow fan of her eyelashes. The room still feels like it's moving but, at least for now, and in Catra's hold, she feels secure. ]

I don't know. I was thinking maybe I won't stay sick as long as I used to, before I had all the powers of She-Ra. [ And then, with a teetered shift, her head tilts in order to rest on the dell of Catra's neck and shoulder. The relaxed skin at her brow starts to tighten at a thought, because of course Adora can't stay relaxed for longer than a few minutes. ] But what if I don't? Oh man, I can't stay in my room all day tomorrow too! Bow and Glimmer will want to check up on me if that happens, and I really don't want them to worry over me!

[ It's a far cry from the company of cadets who wouldn't so much as wish a "get well soon", that's for sure; Adora isn't complaining, though, but breathes out a fatigued murmur nonetheless. ]

I wish everything would stop spinning.

[Catra feels her expression soften as Adora relaxes back into her, dipping the cloth again and pressing it against the edge of the waterfall's pond to squeeze it out.

And then she finds herself rolling her eyes, when she hears the furrow of her brow in Adora's voice and feels muscles of her back tensing up again.]

Relax. [She touches the cloth to Adora's cheek, brushing the loose strands of blonde hair back as she wipes down the available patch of skin. Kind of hard to do with with Adora's head lolled into her, but every bit helps.] I'll cover for you.

[She'll just wear Adora's shirt tomorrow, muss up her hair and fur, and make an inappropriate comment to one or the other of them. That should keep them from checking in. And it'll be fun to watch Adora deal with the teasing when she does eventually feel well enough to leave the room; just the thought of that makes the tip of Catra's tail twitch with amusement in Adora's lap. It's good when Catra's not their target - it means she doesn't have to be annoyed by how smoothly they handle some of their repartee.

As for the room spinning--]

That's what you get for getting sick, genius. [Her words are mean, but her tone is fond.] Did you think to eat anything before you locked yourself up in here?

[and what do sick people in Bright Moon eat, anyway. Ration bars were hard enough to get down if your throat was sore or dry, and somehow Catra can't imagine the often-sticky and sometimes-sweet varieties of pastries and cakes Glimmer's been helping her binge on would go down any easier. But based on the variety of those, and of the fresh fruits and meats they seem to always have in supply for every meal -- they've probably got something specifically for sick people laying around. Something that isn't just tea or medicine. That'd be just like them.]

[ And that's all it takes to undo the stress piling in the pit of stomach. Not that she had the energy to keep it going, to begin with. ]

Thanks, Catra. That means a lot. [ She should probably ask how Catra plans on covering for her, but she can't find the energy for that right now either; she trusts Catra, even if her ideas for solving problems often included riling the temperaments of others. And she knows Catra must be thinking of something within that vein when she feels the mischievous flex and curl of her tail in her lap, and Adora reaches down to place her hand atop it ever so gingerly. A little cautious, too, aware of just how sensitive the appendage can be. ]

I... [ Man, what would she do without you, Catra? Adora hadn't thought to remove clothing and she'd gone without food or water all morning. And while she's glad she can't see the self-conscious twitch of her eyebrow, the bashful lilt in her voice gives her away. ] Now that you mention it, I didn't.

[True enough to Adora's expectations, Catra's tail slips out from underneath her touch. It falls back on top of her hand right after, curving slightly to brush against her wrist in invite. It's weird for her, but as long as Adora doesn't pull or squeeze, it should be fine.

Even if it does make Catra's toes curl and her ears bend back. It's not bad, it's just -- different.]

Of course you didn't. [She's not even surprised. Adora doesn't even look after herself on a good day; why would she when she's sick? With a gesture of her head, Melog rises from their lounge by Catra's side. They grow in size with each step, until they're large enough to reach the rope on the wall that apparently rings a bell somewhere down in the kitchens. Even though the idea of having people around to do literally nothing but wait on her tickles Catra pink, she hasn't actually abused that privilege yet. Mostly because there's just something like camaraderie in slipping down to the kitchen herself, and usually finding one of the others already in there. Some of her most enlightening conversations have happened at odd hours over a mug of some new kind of drink, or while smuggling snacks out with a giggling accomplice.

And it's just nice, okay, to walk into rooms and have people she likes and who like her be there. It's still a novelty.

Anyway, the point is she doesn't know exactly what the rope does aside from some vague notion that it's supposed to alert someone to bring some sort of food to the room. Whatever it is they scrounge up, it'll be better than the whole lot of nothing Adora's had.] I can't believe you lasted so long without me.

[ She falters for a second, unsure if she's misinterpreting all of Catra's signals (it wouldn't be the first time -- by a long shot), but decides to touch her tail again with a confidence that she won't dither to hiss if she's made the wrong decision. And it's the lightest caress and glide of her fingertips, just to be safe. It's probably an odd way to repay the care Catra has been giving her, but Adora wants her to feel good too, in any way that she can until she's physically able to do a better job at it. To touch her in different places and with more purpose behind it, until there's something scorching under Catra's skin instead. ]

We're going to have to get up. [ -- is the realization that comes with watching Melog beckon castle help. Because someone was going to have to get up to unlock the door in order for the food to get inside. That, and they couldn't stay this way forever (even though she wants to) and she's better off recovering in bed (preferably with Catra). ]

[Her tail twitches roughly, like she's going to pull it away again; but ultimately it stays, flicking occasionally under Adora's ministrations.

Catra's really. Really. Glad that Adora can't see the embarrassed heat that's risen to take over her face.]

Not yet. [She doesn't have a good reason for the shut-down, aside from the lame touch of the cloth to the front of Adora's neck, and the quick sweep of it down to her collar.] --We've got time. Just... let me take care of you, okay?

[ There's a lack of argument and instead a satisfied hum that vibrates in Adora's throat, encourages Catra's hand southward still towards her collarbone, a breath stuttering up and out from her chest. She doesn't want this to end either. ]

Hey. I know you've already said I "shouldn't make a thing of it", but... this is really nice. Sitting here with you like this, I mean. Not the me being sick part.

[ With that said, her touch abandons the tail in her lap in favor of reaching up and behind to meet with Catra's cheek, the length of her thumb gently stroking the skin it found there. ]

I wouldn't mind doing it more often.

[Catra's hand pauses at Adora's stuttering breath, ears twitching as she takes a moment to determine if they should be worried about an infection in her respiratory system, before she huffs an amused breath. Is Adora really just enjoying herself?

Her eyes track the tired movement of Adora's arm from her tail, which stills in her lap; and when Adora's fingers brush her cheek she obliges, leaning into the touch. It's still weird, knowing that there's no other shoe to be dropped; and it's weirder still, because Adora's hands have been sapped of the strength and certainty she usually always has.

At least she's still talking, even though Catra had told her to shut up. She doesn't actually know what she'll do, if she ever has to hold Adora's weak and unresponsive body again.]

Yeah, right. As if you'd ever take this much downtime on your own. [She's still amused, rather than complaining, as she continues to dab the cloth along Adora's collar. This is just who Adora is. She's always been a schedule-obsessed workaholic, and Catra's always been - not content, exactly, but willing enough to follow her around to most tasks when she wants to spend time with her. Not that Catra usually does much other than lounge and make fun of people (and Adora. Especially Adora.) while Adora works. It's still quality bonding time. And there's always been the option of pouncing and sitting upon her to make her stay put.

Still, though. Catra's looking forward to when Darla's upgrades are complete, and they're back up in space and the only people she has to compete with for Adora's attention are too busy making kissy-faces at each-other to bother.] Do you even remember the last time you took a break?

[ Adora titters at the question, in spite of herself; and she actually takes a long moment to backtrack in her mind the last few months, hunting for an example, before clicking her tongue in defeat. A sound Catra is sure to relish in, and suddenly her cheeks feel hotter than they already are. ] Uh, yeah. I'm taking one right now.

[ It's a lame attempt at riposte, and Adora doesn't think twice about pursing her lips into a hard-lined pout because she knows Catra can't see it, while a small knot starts to coil in the pit of her stomach. It's not like Adora isn't keen on the idea of spending more of her time like this, enraptured in Catra's presence and touch and her love, happy to let time slip away between them and reality to the wayside; but it's much too hard to not see it as turning her back on everything else. It's silly, Adora knows, to think her time is of most value when being put to some kind of servitude; that's not the life Mara had wished to bequeath her, nor is it the one she's promised to Catra. It's hard, undoing years of conditioning, and it's something they're both still learning. ]

Let me have that. [ -- her hand moves again, completely off of Catra this time and palm open, gesturing vaguely at the washcloth.]

[Of course Catra laughs at her, because it's funny. And it's the kind of laugh that she almost chokes on in disbelief when Adora claims that right now is a break.

Then Adora demands the cloth, and Catra immediately jerks it away to hold it at arms-length away from her.]

No way. [Nevermind that she's sick, Catra still can't pass up a chance to rile her.] This is mine. Go get your own if you want one.

[Does it matter that it came from Adora's stash of bathing supplies that are stored within Adora's room? Not at all. It's in Catra's hand, Catra's using it, that makes it Catra's.]

[ Oh, so now Catra's okay with her getting up to leave, all because she'd rather play a game of finder's keepers? Figures. Adora isn't really surprised by the turn of behavior (typical Catra), but it doesn't stop her from drawling out a childish whine anyway. ]

Catra, you said you wanted to take care of me. [ Adora pulls up her with torso, renouncing her resting place against Catra, and twists it enough so that she is finally, finally looking at her the next time she speaks. ] So hand it over.

[Catra's tail finally whips out of Adora's lap, but only to snake in playful patterns on the floor as Adora turns and - she looks so unwell that it almost makes Catra feel bad.]

You look terrible. [Not bad enough to stop, though. And that's still a 'no' on the cloth. Catra doesn't even bother moving it any further away; just lounges back, resting her weight on her free hand, and holding it out behind her. In this state, she's confident she can fend Adora off with as much as a particularly light breeze. Which is good, because wrestling right next to this built-in waterfall is not particularly high on Catra's list of Smart Things To Do.] What do you want it for anyway? You said I could do it.

[ Any other time, she'd have shoved Catra by now, like when they were cadets roughhousing in the locker room (or the corridors or barracks or any space they happened to share -- always an excuse to touch, touch, touch), but in her enervated state Adora settles for a glowered stare and only hopes it carries the same amount of impact. Catra could really be a brat, sometimes; and Adora finds it endearing, sometimes. When she isn't preoccupied with a hot nausea that's starting to swirl at her core. ]

It's my stomach. [ Adora yields, because there's no point in arguing when she feels this way, and not when Catra is wanting to help. Though her ornery mannerisms may signal otherwise, Adora can say with great certainty that Catra's devotion is the most ferocious she's ever known. And her she rubs at her bare stomach wearily, a tell for where she'd planned on placing the cloth had Catra uncommitted to it. ] I wanted to put it there.

[ Adora doesn't know why she suddenly feels embarrassed, turning back around before Catra can catch the flicker of it in her eyes. It'd be so much easier if Catra would just offer her the chivalry of tending one thing to herself, like she's used to. ]

[Oh.

Catra's eyes follow the movement of Adora's hand, and there is a pause that lingers for just. The slightest moment too long, as she tracks the press of Adora's palm against her abdomen.

--She is sick, Catra reminds herself. Adora is probably about to, like, hurl her guts up or something; and here Catra is just staring at her.

The water is blessedly cool when Catra dips the cloth again, and she takes a moment longer to do it just because she needs the time to recollect herself. It's not like she hasn't looked at Adora before, and it's not like she's not allowed to. (--It hasn't been a thing that's been discussed, but Catra's never had any compunctions about taking liberties.) It's not even like they don't know what the other is about; like Adora doesn't know how much Catra loves to touch, flirt, fluster her.

It's more just. Adora is sick, and that makes this just the absolute worst time to go getting tangled up in an attraction that was a lot easier to ignore before she knew her feelings were reciprocated.]

Here. [She holds out the freshly wrung cloth, looking away like that might negate the flush on her cheeks.] The food'll be here soon anyway. [And she'll need to get it from the door, so. You know. --It makes sense to let Adora take over for now.]

Nursed back to health ( shipping )

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