(no subject)

[destinybound]

"Catra! Stop it, it's for your own good! Ow!"

At the end of a long day of training, Adora is tired, sore, and wants little more than to take a shower and throw herself onto her bed. Wrangling a furious Catra into the showers with her was not on the agenda tonight, until a bot that hadn't been fixed quite right (thanks, Kyle) sprung a leak and sprayed them both with motor oil.

Now, the issue with Catra is that she's willing to shower exactly twice weekly, and both opportunities have passed. But Adora is not going to let her walk around reeking of motor oil until Monday. She's got her arms full of Catra and she's not letting go, no matter how Catra squirms, scratches, bites. In the ten minutes since she's initiated this endeavor, Adora has barely made it two steps into the showers, but her dedication to the cause and can-do attitude have always been cited as two of her strongest points as a cadet.

As they struggle and yell, Lonnie steps around the two of them on her way to the sleeping quarters, and offers Adora a sympathetic nod: "Good luck."

Adora grits her teeth.

"Look! In the time you've spent throwing your tantrum, Lonnie's already finished showering! We could've been done here!"

Comments

[morethanadistraction]

"Then go shower with Lonnie!"

The wretched stink of oil clogged in her nostrils may be making Catra want to both simultaneously puke and pass out, but that doesn't stop the high pitch of her yowling as she makes life incredibly, impossibly hard for Adora. Catra doesn't have the brute strength necessary to break Adora's bear hug, which isn't fair. It isn't fair that Adora's gotten taller than her, or that she's been able to pack on more muscle than Catra. Slipping out of her grip used to be easy; used to be just a matter of going limp and sliding out of her arms and scampering away. Scrabbling for her freedom should not be this hard.

"I haven't even gotten undressed!" Because Adora knows she'll make a break for it if she's allowed to. Catra doesn't care how ratty and matted her hair gets, she doesn't care if she's stuck covered in motor oil for the rest of her stupid life. She has already suffered her two showers this week, and she won't be forced into another. "You can't just throw me in there!!"

Catra's always kept her feet on the ground when wrestling Adora, but that was back when they were the same size. Now -- she has to improvise, and both of her legs wind around Adora's, locking tight around her knees. Brute strength doesn't count for much if you can't move, and if they both fall over because of this -- Catra's willing to take that hit.

[destinybound]

You'd think Adora would be intimately familiar with all of Catra's dirty tricks by now, and yet, amazingly, she still hasn't run out of ways to surprise her. As made evident by the way Adora loses balance and topples to the floor, shrieking as she goes. And yes, this means taking Catra with her-- though the impact of her back against the tile startles her into momentarily loosening her hold.

"No!" she cries out at the feeling of Catra's weight lifting off her, and lashes out with both arms to grab hold of her mid-scamper. That split-second of freedom has allowed Catra to reach just far enough that now, when Adora pulls her back down against her, she ends up with her face pressed to Catra's stomach.

"Give it up, Catra! I'm not letting go until you shower!"

[morethanadistraction]

Catra is up in a flash of movement, the bandages on her feet providing much-needed traction against the smooth floor. She's almost free, but Adora - stupid Adora - manages to grab a fistful of her shirt and the fur underneath and yanks her back down, and Catra screams with both the burn of pain and the injustice of it all.

"Let me go!" Her voice is getting hoarse from screeching, but that does not deter her. Her legs kick, clawed toes digging into the meat of Adora's legs as she shoves her hands against her head, trying to push herself off of her. She doesn't care what parts of Adora she digs at or scratches, and only years of friendly gamboling keeps it so that it's her palms nearest Adora's eyes instead of deliberately blinding her. The feel of Adora's face on her stomach, pressing into her as she struggles is -- is -- is something else entirely, heats her in a completely different way and fuels her desperation to get away; to fling herself up onto the pipes that cross haphazardly around the Fright Zone and run until she reaches a quiet, dark corner where she doesn't have to see Adora's stupid face or her stupid hair or hear her stupid voice or feel her stupid hands--!

She tries to move back enough to be able to knee Adora in her stupid dumb throat, but her grip is too tight and her arms too strong and Catra yowls loudly, the sound reverberating and echoing off the walls, in aggressive frustration. "I had my showers this week!" sure she'd tried to get out of them both, and she'd barely stayed under the cold spray of water long enough for it to soak through to her skin, but she'd still done it. "You can't make me do this! Why do you hate me?! Let go of me!"

(Later, in Catra's future, when someone snarls a certain accusation at her ("Adora didn't run away from the Horde. She ran away from you."), this struggle of theirs? Will be one of the memories that makes it ring true.)

[destinybound]

"Stop being so dramatic! I don't hate you, you just stink!"

This isn't fair. Catra's got four sets of extremely sharp claws, and Adora's got nothing to retaliate with, her hands full just trying to keep her in place. If she doesn't find a way to turn the tables--

Wait, Adora realizes, a moment of clarity among the screaming and chaos: she does have something to retaliate with.

Steeling herself with a quick breath, she cranes her neck, and purposefully nuzzles her face into Catra's sensitive stomach.

[morethanadistraction]

"Then stop smelling me!"

How is it Adora's problem if Catra stinks??? She doesn't have to be there. She doesn't have to do anything about it. She just needs to leave Catra alone and--

--The noise that comes out of her throat is an unholy howl as Adora nuzzles deeply into her stomach, each small twitch of her head sending sparks straight through to her crotch and buckling her knees. Catra's hands scrabble at Adora's hair, grabbing indiscriminately to yank and pull as hard as she can.

"Stop it! Adora! Get off me!"

[destinybound]

"Ow, ow, ow--!" Okay, that hurts, but Adora still can't suppress the victorious thrill that runs through her at the tangible shift in Catra's struggling. How it's suddenly just that much more desperate, her voice spiking in pitch, the kicking of her legs a lot less controlled and a lot more twitchy.

If she has to sacrifice a few hairs on her way to victory, so be it.

"What's the-- ah-- matter, Catra?" she retorts, only wincing once through it as Catra grabs fistfuls of her ponytail. Her nuzzling continues with newly-honed resolve, each word muffled into Catra's shirt as she angles her chin up and down, back and forth. Catra's scent fills her nostrils, the oil and her sweat and just-- her, and it makes it a little hard to breathe, but Adora's not stopping. "Something bothering you?"

[morethanadistraction]

Stupid Adora's voice and stupid Adora's chin, rubbing into her and making her arms tremble. Stupid Adora, making the next noise out of Catra's throat a high-pitched groan instead of a shriek.

"Get off," she repeats; and her voice croaks as she shoves her hands against Adora's head again, trying to push her away. It isn't fair, that she has these weaknesses - isn't fair that Adora knows about them. Isn't fair that somewhere along the line Adora's bones had strengthened and her jaw had sharpened into the dangerous tool it is now, isn't fair that her voice had changed from whiny and bratty to something that now grates on Catra's nerves all the way from her spine to her stomach. "I mean it, Adora!"

[destinybound]

"Oh, did you want me to stop? I can stop," she replies, as breezy as one can hope to sound through grit teeth, with one's face buried against their best friend's stomach.

"Promise me you'll get in the shower."

[morethanadistraction]

"Yes--no---" Stupid Adora, putting everything together like that! Yes she wants her to stop, no she won't promise to get in the shower, yes her shoves against Adora are growing weaker with every rub. "--Ugh! Why can't you just leave me alone?!"

[destinybound]

Catra's fit is shrinking more and more into a little baby tantrum, which Adora is almost in a position to laugh at, except she's still very much on the floor and aching all over. So, maybe in a bit.

Still, the more Catra's protests weaken, the more her own confidence grows. It's hard not to relish in the effect she has on Catra, knowing full well that anybody else who'd even attempt touching her like this would be dead in a matter of seconds.

"Because I liiiike you," she coos, this time barely having to force it. One of her arms, tight around Catra's back, shifts just the fraction of an inch needed to scritch at her waist. "Come on, just a quick little shower? We'll be done before you know it."

[morethanadistraction]

Adora's fingers scratching against her waist drags a whine from her, and Catra's hands flex as the urge to massage them against -- something, literally anything, seizes her nerves.

She cuts it out quickly, turning the press of her palms against Adora's head into another shove. But it weakens, again, as the combined sensations against her stomach and waist shiver through her; and eventually she whimpers, hips canting forward the slightest twitch before she melts into Adora's hold.

It's not fair. It's not fair, and it's stupid, and nobody else in the Horde has these weak points. Why does Catra have to be stuck with them?

"No," she protests weakly. "I don't care. Let me go."

[destinybound]

Oh-- Adora definitely shouldn't do anything to acknowledge that, but she's pretty sure she just heard Catra whimper. It inspires a flutter of warmth in her own belly, and she lets out a quiet, stuttering breath against Catra, feeling her sag against her in turn.

The death grip she's kept her locked in is gradually softening into a full-on snuggle, and if nothing else, Adora's glad the other cadets have all already retired to their bunks.

"Catraaaa," she calls softly, caressing a path along her side. "Pretty please? For me?"

Her thumb dips to brush at the spot between hipbone and stomach, stroking sweetly with a promise: "I'll pet you all you want, after."

[morethanadistraction]

"I don't--" Adora's stroke along her side steals her next breath, and Catra's hands flex again as her body shudders. She hates every second of it. "I don't want--" and then Adora's thumb brushes down against her hip and something inside her burns, drying her mouth and she just -- she wants Adora to-- to--

"Stop touching me," she croaks, trembling from the effort of resisting. But the motions continue, and with the next stroke along the dip of her hip she sinks down, folding over Adora's head as her fingers slide to press against mussed blonde hair. She wants Adora there. She wants Adora everywhere. She wants Adora. "I hate you. Go away."

[morethanadistraction]

Catra is just a little bit grumpy the next day. Mostly because she hadn't slept all that much. By the time Adora had fallen asleep, there were only a few hours left until morning call; and of course, Catra couldn't have fallen asleep before Adora did, because then they absolutely would have been caught cuddling. And that would have been a reprimand.

So she kinda gets it, why Adora's been avoiding her. She's crabby when she's tired. But as promised, she guards Adora during their squad simulation training; sticking close to her and protecting the leg Catra had injured. Lonnie comments on it suspiciously, Rogelio makes noises that Catra doesn't care to understand, and Kyle thinks it's nice of her. Their supervisor is just glad to see her working with the team, comments on how she should be doing it every session.

(That just makes her want to do it even less.)

But then lunch comes around, and Adora's so weird and tense that Catra's tired brain can't even comprehend what's gotten her so worked up. And then she remembers, oh yeah, she's probably realizing that almost everyone around them is either talking about what they're getting up to in their bunks at night or talking about things that could be easily misconstrued as such, and Adora's finally cluing into it all for the first time. Even Catra, when her ear pricks to listen in on a nearby conversation, doesn't actually know if the soldier talking about spending extra time oiling his 'stunning baton' (his words exactly) is speaking in euphemisms or being legitimate.

By the time they reach lights out, Catra's yawning wide and shameless, every sharp tooth in her mouth glinting in the artificial light of the bathroom. She brushes her teeth only because they all have to, changes clothes only because everyone else is doing it, and is the first one in the dorm when she trudges to Adora's bunk and slumps gratefully onto it on her knees, folding down to bury her face in Adora's pillow. She'll die here now, thanks.

[destinybound]

It turns out, as a matter of fact, that Adora is not just fine the next day.

Sleep feels like it takes a century to come. Her racing mind takes ages to quiet, and every time Catra shifts against her in bed, it's kicked back up with a barrage of new, whirring thoughts. She doesn't know when it is she falls asleep, but as soon as the morning alarm blares she's sure it happened far too late, because her eyes are crusty and her head is aching and everything is awful forever.

She's on hyper-alert for all the wrong reasons, ears tuning to every thread of conversation that might confirm Catra's claims from the previous night. And any that she misses, Catra, ever-considerate best friend that she is, points them out to her. It quickly becomes clear to Adora that virtually every word in the Etherian vocabulary can be, and is, used as a euphemism for those things, which makes her overthink every single thing she hears until she has no idea what anybody's saying.

She's terrible at training, sore and tired and unfocused, and she's grateful to Catra for covering her after all. But Shadow Weaver picks up on her lagging reflexes and poorly-aimed blows, and quietly pulls her aside afterwards to ask if something's the matter.

As if Adora could possibly answer that.

She's just glad when the day's finally over, so she can get through her shower quickly and efficiently -- without having to drag Catra howling and shrieking in there, thank God. She couldn't go through that again. Not with Catra kneading into her scalp as she curls around her on the floor. Not with Catra's bare chest brushing her back as she leans into her in the shower.

Nope. Nope. None of that.

She scrubs herself clean as quickly as she can, ignoring the way her throat goes tight when her hands brush over certain spots. Great. Even showering feels weird now. The cold stream used to be one of the few things that would clear her head and calm her down.

When she finally makes her way to her bunk, ready to collapse into the sheets and never move again, she's instead faced with the sight of Catra, face down in her pillow. Usually, she'd find that kind of endearing. Right now, she buries her face in her hand with a sigh.

"You're hogging the whole bed." She nudges Catra's leg with her foot-- maybe the first time she's touched her all day. "Move."

[morethanadistraction]

Catra is already dozing by the time Adora makes it to bed, the arguable comfort levels of her position be damned. It's the nudge of Adora's foot that wakes her, and Catra's fur all bristles as she shoots up, pupils wide.

A few blinks later, and she settles; shaking herself to reset her hair before flopping back down, this time at the end of Adora's bunk, yawning widely once more.

"You took too long," she complains. She really just wants Adora to get into the bunk already so she can curl around her and soak up the contact she's been missing all day. Adora hasn't been letting herself be touched, and Catra gets it but she misses her. "Hurry up."

[destinybound]

"Well, I'm sorry some of us have to shower daily," Adora grumbles in response, dropping into a sitting position on the now-unoccupied patch of mattress. Normally she'd lie down without a thought, let Catra tangle herself up around her, but right now it'd feel-- weird. Like everything feels weird.

So she spends a moment just staring down at Catra as her frazzled brain tries to work out a solution, before finally announcing: "Okay, good night," throwing herself down on the mattress, pulling the blanket up to her neck, and rolling away to face the wall.

[morethanadistraction]

One eye squints open to watch Adora, because she doesn't often come to bed sounding so antsy. And she doesn't often miss the opportunity to place her hand on Catra's head, or stroke her fingers along Catra's ears, but here she is basically ignoring her completely.

The lights go off, and Catra moves fluidly. In one movement, her hands find Adora's shoulders, turning her to press her back into the cot; her knees rest on Adora's thighs, and Catra hovers above her with bright, narrowed eyes.

"What's with you?" She demands quietly, voice no less stern for its volume. A thought seizes her, and she leans in close to Adora's face, lifting one hand to press against her forehead. "Are you -- sick?" Because Catra needs advance notice if she needs to be covering for Adora while she's weakened if that's the case. "You have to tell me these things, Adora; you can't just spring them on me."

[destinybound]

"Wha--"

With a gasp, Adora's forced onto her back, and Catra's weight is pinning her down before she can wriggle away. So much for her great avoidance plan. In hindsight, no, it wasn't too likely that she'd get away with it.

"No, Catra, I'm not sick. Quit it." She can feel her face heating up beneath Catra's palm, and she swats at it, tilting her head away from that fussy hand and scrutinizing gaze. In a matter of seconds, her heart's doubled its pace-- is that just going to happen all the time now? How did something so familiar, so comforting as Catra's touch gain this effect on her?

What if Catra's right, and she is sick? What if she's on her way to heart failure and she hasn't realized because she's too busy obsessing over this-- this people touching each other thing?

That would be the dumbest way to die.

"... Or maybe I am coming down with something," she admits through her teeth, squinting her eyes at an unspecified point in the dark. "I don't know. Clearly there's something wrong with me."

[morethanadistraction]

Catra's look softens, just a little, at the confession. Adora is such an idiot.

And she does feel really warm under Catra's hand, which is a problem. Fevers are the hardest thing to hide, especially Adora's if she makes it to the point of spouting unintelligible garbage.

"Here, budge over." She slips off of Adora to her side, pushing at her shoulder and hip to roll her so Catra can wriggle down behind her and curl around her. They don't usually cuddle each-other to sleep, but there's no greater comfort when one of them is ill. "What're you feeling? If you're about to puke, warn me now and don't even think about moving your head."

[destinybound]

"I'm not gonna puke," Adora lets out in a petulant whine. For all the effort she put into keeping her distance today, Catra wedges herself behind her as easily as that, and Adora doesn't have it in her to pull away.

Catra's being so sweet, and caring, and Adora doesn't even know if she's sick or just crazy. Her body is as tense against Catra's as it was last night, but the proximity is as irresistible to her as it was last night, too; drawing her in with the hum of warmth formed between skin and fur.

"I just feel-- wrong," she confesses, everything she couldn't admit to Shadow Weaver tumbling from her lips in a guilt-fuelled babble. "I'm distracted, I can't focus, I'm tense all the time and I keep getting-- heart palpitations, and there's this twisty feeling in my stomach that won't go away. I've felt like this before but it's never been this bad or lasted this long, and I'm pretty sure it's your fault, but also, maybe I'm dying."

And she lets out a wheezing breath, before burying her face in the pillow.

[morethanadistraction]

Catra listens, and all she really gets out of that is:

"--It's my fault you're dying?"

Isn't that just the stupidest thing she's ever heard. And she's heard a lot of stupid things, most of them also from Adora's mouth. It's not something that Catra's going to stand for, raising herself on one elbow behind Adora and leaning on her to reach around her head, yanking her pillow out from under her. (What? Adora said she wasn't going to puke, that means being rough is fine.)

"Look, I don't get what's gotten you sick, but don't go blaming it on me." Her tail smacks against Adora's leg in annoyance. "I've been feeling fine, so whatever you've got is your own problem. You've probably just stressed yourself out too much about--" the stuff they talked about last night "--everything. When'd it start?"

[destinybound]

"... Last night," Adora says meekly, certain the answer will condemn her. But then, propelled by a sudden burst of indignation, she sits up to snatch the pillow from Catra's hands. "Which makes it your fault, obviously!"

[morethanadistraction]

Catra opens her mouth to snap back, releasing the pillow as she sits up to shove Adora--

"Can you two please keep it down over there? Some of us are trying to sleep." Lonnie's voice growls through the dorm, and Catra's mouth clamps shut with a glower.

"You're the one over-thinking things," she hisses, grabbing Adora's shoulders and yanking her back down, holding her in place with one hand while the other drags the blanket over them with pointed determination. "Is that why you've been so weird today? You've just spent this whole time freaking out?"

[destinybound]

"Sorry!" Adora yelps, before she's pushed onto the mattress with an 'oof'.

"-- That, or I'm dying!" Now that she's begun to entertain the idea, she's not letting it go so easily. But also: this is definitely Catra's fault.

Her eyes narrow into an accusatory glare, and she retaliates in a series of harsh whispers: "You shouldn't have told me all that stuff. Now I can't stop thinking about it, all the time. Is it going to be like this every day, now? I don't know how you can live like that!"