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."