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Adora can hear Catra bounding towards her, steadily closing the gap -- and she's ready for it when Catra pounces, dropping to the floor and rolling sideways before the impact can be made.

"Nice try," she smugly huffs out, and leaps for the door.

Yup, that's a growl coming out of Catra's mouth when she lands on cold floor instead of warm idiot, and her tail lashes angrily before she pounces up again; reaching the security panel at the same time as Adora and smacking her hands to ruin her input of the door's exit code.

"Hands off, I'm gonna do it!" she argues quickly, anticipating a squabble as she shoves the side of her body roughly into Adora's to force her away. She will be the fastest at jamming in the code, and she will be the first one onto the roof, and then Catra will lord it over Adora for the rest of the day just like she deserves after biting Catra's foot.

"No, I'm doing it!" Adora shouts back, repaying the favor by mashing the keypad as much as her reach allows. Her arms tangle up with Catra's in a flurry of thwacking limbs, only getting them farther and farther away from opening the door, and so Adora decides on a change of tactics-- locking both arms tight around Catra's waist, and closing her teeth, this time, around the tip of Catra's ear.

Just like Adora's 'I have a secret I'm not supposed to share' giddiness is so well-known that nobody thinks twice about it, so too is Catra's screeching and yowling when Adora's dragging her to do something she desperately doesn't want to do.

It's a weird place to be fighting over whether she's hitting the showers, but that must be what everyone assumes is happening when she lets loose a sharp cry and jerks her elbow back into Adora's side, her ear flicking wildly against the bite. Her tail and spine stiffen, the press of Adora's chest and stomach against Catra's back suddenly incredibly present, and Catra can't ignore the strength of her arms around her waist or the sudden surge of arousal that flares hot and demanding.

The appropriate thing to do about it is, of course, tear her head down to chomp on Adora's arm. That's what she gets for bringing teeth into this.

"Ah!"

It hurts-- Catra's teeth are sharper, that's not fair-- but after the initial prickle of pain, Adora's at least able to use her unbitten hand to punch the code in. She yanks herself free then, scuttling into the opened stairwell, the pound of her boots echoing off the metal walls as she takes the stairs two at a time.

It's annoying that Adora's so used to being scratched and bitten that she's long since learned how to ignore it, and Catra growls as she follows after her; jumping onto the railing to leap up to the next level, barely pausing to wrap her hands around the cold bars before pulling her feet up to push off of them again. Vertical ascents are where she'll lose Adora every time, and this is no different.

"Is it just me, or are you getting slower?" Her goading echoes through the full length of the stairwell, as does the screech of her claws on metal when she skids to a stop.

Catra could continue to the roof and wait there by herself, but that would be boring. Instead she stops on a landing with flickering lights and a half-dozen empty crates and tucks herself between them, crouching low and hidden, her tail swishing in quick sweeps behind her as she listens to Adora's feet pounding on the stairs. Catra's hands flex on the floor, her feet shift in anticipation, her body buzzes with energy; and when the stamp of Adora's feet becomes unbearably loud Catra's breathing quietens and slows to shallow, predatory stillness as her eyes narrow in focus. As soon as Adora appears, she'll pounce; wrapping her arms around her legs and yanking her into the pile of crates to disorient her.

Adora should've known something's wrong when Catra's gone quiet, rather than taunting her all the way to the top. She can't even hear the squeaking of her hands against the pipes anymore-- has she made it to the roof already? Ugh, someday Adora's gonna learn how to climb like that--

"Gah!"

She's knocked down onto the pile of crates before her brain can even register what's happening, landing face-down onto them with a startled groan and a great clattering noise all around.

Grunting in frustration, she pushes herself up on her arms, twists around to level Catra with a hard glare--

"It's a race, Catra, not an ambush!"

"'Always guard your flank, Adora'." Catra simpers mockingly as she looks down at her handiwork, eyes glittering with mischief. Adora is best when she's on the floor like this, sulking and glaring, and Catra reaches out a hand to give an unfallen crate the little push it needs to drop onto Adora's lap, her tail a satisfied curl. It gives a derisive flick when she turns around, strolling smugly for the last flight of stairs.

She pauses on the first step, turning her head to look over her shoulder at Adora with a smirk, that warm bubbly feeling that Adora often incites in her fluttering in her chest and curling in her stomach. Beating Adora always feels different to beating anyone else, and Catra doesn't know why. It just is. And she has beaten her; it's obvious, given how close the roof is to them. "Hurry up, I've seen trashed bots move faster than you."

Edited 2020-07-06 10:39 (UTC)

In lieu of a more sophisticated comeback, Adora sticks her tongue out at her, and shoves the crate off of her lap. Unlike Catra, she's capable of properly accepting when she's lost-- she doesn't feel the need to wrack her brain for any last-minute dirty tricks, simply following after her to the roof. It doesn't matter, anyway. This was never about the race.

It's only once they're both outside, in the warm, dense air of the Fright Zone, under the light of the moons, that Adora speaks up: "Joke's on you," she says. "You walked right into my trap."

And before Catra has a chance to react, she tackles her full-on, knocking her onto the ground and landing on top: hands pressed into Catra's shoulders and hips locked around her waist. And she grins, ear to ear, leaning close--

"Hey, Catra."

"What trap--gah!" Catra's frowned question cuts off in a squeak, and she's on the floor before she can do more than instinctively bristle.

Oh, fine. She'll let Adora have this one, but Catra's folding her arms and her ears are turning down in disapproval. Her tail's the one that gives her away this time, flicking by her leg in interest at the warm press of Adora's body, her blood firing up as she breathes instinctively deep to try to smell her over the gross stink of the Fright Zone's forges.

It's easier when Adora leans close, and Adora doesn't smell clean like she did last night. Now she's musky with sweat from training and their race, the undertone of an unfamiliar tang laying close to her skin, and Catra gets so distracted by smelling her best friend like a total moron that she starts when Adora's voice sounds too close to her now-flicking ear, her hands shooting up to shove at her chest--

--one of her palms lands on the upper curve of Adora's breast, and Catra pauses there for a split second while her intentions rapidly shift course.

They're on the roof. Nobody else has ever come up here. They know from experience in trying to shout at each-other from it that it's near-impossible to hear anything over the loud machinery and pounding from the forge.

Catra's lips twitch into a smirk instead, her hands slipping to cup those curves just the way Adora'd let her the night before. If she's lucky, maybe she'll be able to convince Adora into some repeat activities instead of sitting next to her and imagining doing them like she normally does.

"Hey, Adora." She purrs back, eyelids falling half-closed. Her tail flicks again, higher this time, brushing Adora's thigh. If she gets shot down, she can still pretend she was just doing it to throw her off. "So when're we gonna run into this trap of yours? I'm looking forward to seeing what dumb plan you managed to think up without me."

Adora lets out a faint yelp as Catra's hand connects with her chest -- but her startle thaws into realization as the shove pauses halfway, instead softening into something dangerously close to a caress. She can't quite tell how deliberate that was, but just in case Catra were to try and pull her hand away, Adora covers the back of it with her own palm, to pin it steady in place.

Underneath their joint hands, she can feel her heart pounding, faster than it did even during their race. She wonders if Catra can feel it, too, and the thought quickens her heart's pace even further.

The sweep of fur against her leg has her toes curling, and she shifts on top of Catra to escape her tail's reach, knees tightening around her stomach with the motion. Between Catra's husky voice and low-lidded eyes, it's hard not to guess exactly what she's thinking, which is-- well-- good, but also makes the reveal a lot less seductive than Adora had planned out in her head.

"No, uh-- I think you've pretty much got it," she admits sheepishly, grin slanting sideways as her cheeks rapidly gain color. "This was the plan."

And, just to drive it home, she leans down and touches her lips to Catra's cheek, the way she did the night before. She likes this, she's decided. She's going to do it lots more.

Adora is weirdly drawn to Catra's cheeks, and the touch of her lips tickles in a way that makes Catra's nose wrinkle in a grimace and a heat rise in her face. It's not bad, it's just... strange.

But it is so, so relieving to feel Adora's heart hammering as fast as Catra's is. Equally good is Adora's hand holding Catra's in place on her chest, which is permission as far as Catra is concerned, to drag her thumbs lightly up to where she remembers the hard bump of a nipple having been; and to press them in there on each breast, enjoying the soft give as she moves her thumbs back down. And then squeezes her hands, because -- seriously? They're kind of squishy, even through Adora's shirt and underwear, and they feel good in Catra's hands. She didn't get to feel them both like this last night, and Catra gives them another squeeze as her tail flicks up again to brush down the back of Adora's thigh.

"Is this why you've been acting so stupid all day?" --Oh, wow, Catra's voice just. Found new depths to lower to, deep and silky ones, and she decides to lean into it rather than clear her throat to correct it. Swallows still as she turns her head, wetting her lips, to inhale deeply right at the curve of Adora's neck and jaw. The smell of her doesn't have any right to affect Catra the way it does, stirring familiar pressure below her stomach, but then neither does the warmth she feels from Adora's knees pressing against her sides. "You just couldn't wait to do it again, could you."

Yeah, she's proud. Who wouldn't be? Two days ago Adora was such a prude she'd practically had a stroke at the thought of touching herself, and now she's brought Catra up here specifically for that purpose. Talk about an achievement.

Edited 2020-07-06 14:52 (UTC)

Adora doesn't even need to ask for it-- her hand on top of Catra's is all Catra needs to start touching her, and the sigh that shudders through Adora is equal parts grateful and thrilled. She sinks into her palms, feeling her body immediately respond, her nipples tingling as they strain under her clothes. That hot ball of tension is gathering at the pit of her stomach again, but now that Adora knows it, knows what's it like at its peak, she greets it with open arms.

Oh, man.

She really wants this.

Catra's breath, her voice -- wow, she did not know her voice could sound like that -- wash over her ear, making her shiver. Adora knows Catra's teasing, but she's unabashed in her reply anyway: "Yeah," she answers frankly, eyes bright. "I really, really liked it."

Her hands drop to Catra's own breasts, mirroring the squeeze--

"I want you to teach me more."

This would be a totally inappropriate time to crow about her victory, especially since Catra doesn't really have enough knowledge to be teaching anything. Catra's gonna do it anyway.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to get enough of it," she boasts. And neither can Catra, her heart leaping in excitement as Adora's hands settle on her chest and squeeze. It's all that she needs to feel a pulse of heat between her legs, and ugh, she wishes Adora hadn't gone up onto her knees instead of sitting low on Catra's hips. Still, her smirk widens when she drags her thumbs up again. This time, there are noticeably hardened bumps beneath Adora's clothes; and Catra shifts both of her hands so that she can rub them between the sides of her thumbs and forefingers, almost the same as the night before. "You have no idea how long I've been trying to get you to do this stuff."

Catra can boast all she'd like; she's earned the right to be smug, and Adora will happily feed into it. All the more so if it means Catra'll keep touching her, with that toothy, confident smile that coats her chest with warmth.

"You know me so well," she readily agrees, a slight hitch in her breath at the new attention to her nipples. She quickly adjusts her hands to mimic the movements -- because she's learning, still, and she wants to get this right.

But Catra's next words give her pause, make her sit up a little straighter. "You have?" she asks, brow crinkling. "But you never said anything."

Catra knows her so well, and the purr that vibrates through her throat at the acknowledgement is deep and satisfied and continues even through the shiver and gasp when Adora's hands follow hers. Alright, okay. Catra knows what she's doing there. She can definitely work with that.

What she can work with less is when Adora sits straighter and frowns, and Catra's lips push into an upset tilt automatically as her purr cuts off. It's kind of just habit, when Adora frowns at her, to be petulant in response. Totally unnecessary right now too, since all Catra needs to do is scrape the edges of her nails across Adora's nipples to change the expression on her face, breathing in a shudder as the returned action sparks pleasure that clenches Catra's thighs together.

"Uh, no. I said plenty of things." Catra's nose wrinkles and she raises an eyebrow in disbelief, turning her hands so that the stiffened bumps are under her palms, lifting her hands to graze across them in circles as her fingers press into the curve of each breast. Adora's feel so different to hers, but the reaction should be about the same, right? It feels good, just enough pressure to feel the coarse drag of fabric, and Catra's tail lifts again in an insistent flick. "For like, ages now. Didn't realize I had to spell it out for you to get it through your thick skull."

She lifts one hand from Adora's chest, instantly missing the feel of her beneath her palm, to tap a finger against Adora's forehead in accompaniment to her teasing words. Despite the habitual sulky expression, Catra's eyes remain warm with affection, and her lips turn back up into a grin before long.

"There's some other stuff I've seen going around." Her tone turns eager, the way it does when she's about to convince Adora to get into trouble with her, and both of Catra's eyebrows rise in expectation. She knows what Adora's answer is; it's the same as it's always been. "Wanna try it out?"

Edited 2020-07-07 10:04 (UTC)

"Like what? When?" Adora presses on, affronted, though the effect is weakened by the moan Catra draws from her the next moment. "-- You know what, we're gonna, we're gonna circle back to this later." Because she wants to know, but she wants Catra more.

She swats that finger away from her forehead, because there are so many better parts of her it can be touching right now, were Catra to stop being a jerk. Her disgruntlement can't survive long, however, faced with that glint in Catra's eyes-- the kind that promises risk, but excitement too. Adora's never been able to resist, when she looks at her like that.

"Okay," she says, leaning back in with narrowed eyes and bated breath. "Show me."

Edited 2020-07-07 11:40 (UTC)

Oh. Oh. That's -- that's what Adora sounds like. Catra's eyes widen the smallest amount, her ears pricking forward. There's going to be a lot more of that, she decides instantly. A lot more.

"Some of it's gonna sound weird, but just go with it. Alright?" Catra's breathless, somehow, her voice rasping; but the bright and eager light in her eyes hasn't dimmed at all, and she returns her finger to flick at Adora's nose before sliding her hand to cup her jaw, her fingers curling by her ear. For some reason, doing it makes Catra's heart pound faster, anticipation fluttering in her stomach. She's thought about this way more than makes sense to, thought about catching glimpses of soldiers trading quick presses of their lips as greetings and farewells and in the middle of whispered conversations, thought about the smiles and flushed cheeks they often have afterwards. The thought of seeing that look on Adora makes her chest feel full and she. Wants that. Wants that sort of dopey, soft look to be directed at her. "Don't go flaking or freaking out on me again."

"I'm not gonna," Adora protests with a pout. If the warnings were meant to assure her, well, they only serve to make her nervous-- and Catra's hold on her jaw, the fact she can undoubtedly feel it when she swallows, makes the jitters worse. After everything they did last night, this-- this has to be big.

"Just show me already!"

A puff of laughter lifts from Catra's mouth, and she's grinning when she tenses her core muscles; lifting herself only with them, squeezing her hand around Adora's breast just because she can.

There should be an - angle, or something, to do this at. Catra knows the soldiers tilt their heads, so she does the same; eyes dropping to slits to watch Adora's reaction as she presses her lips to hers, and then letting her eyelids fall completely closed because it's. Not mind-blowing, certainly nothing worthy of the enthusiastic moans and groans some of the soldiers come out with, but it's nice. Nice to breathe in and smell Adora, nice to feel a light tingle when Catra moves her lips against Adora's, and just. Nice. Catra could definitely do this more often.

Adora's breath catches in her throat as Catra draws nearer, heart thudding against her ribcage-- and finally, when the contact is made, she's left blinking dumbly. It's-- gentle, and chaste, and somehow it's never occurred to Adora you could put your mouth on someone else's mouth, and that's kind of nice? But at the same time, with all of Catra's caveats, she can't help but wonder: is that it? Is there a catch somewhere?

... Well, she'll be finding out in due time, no doubt. For now, Adora is content to follow Catra's lead, letting her own eyes drift to a close as she nuzzles their mouths together. Catra's lips are thin and chapped, but soft underneath, and Adora can feel her breath filter in-between them, glancing off her own lips. Warm, a little ticklish. Catch or no catch, she wouldn't mind doing this for a while longer.

Great, she's on board. And Catra admittedly does sigh a little, her chest unexpectedly warm, when Adora eases into it.

Now comes time for the guesswork. Sometimes the soldiers have to wipe their mouths afterwards, and sometimes their mouths are still open and panting, and it doesn't take a genius to extrapolate what that means.

Adora normally complains whenever Catra licks her, but she didn't seem too upset about it last night. So Catra is confident when she parts her lips on Adora's, enough to drag the tip of her tongue along the closed seam of hers. She's got this stuff all figured out.

Adora lets out a sharp hum of surprise, eyes blinking rapidly back open. Catra's licked her plenty before, usually just to be annoying and gross-- but this doesn't feel like she's doing it to mess with her, or at least, Adora doesn't think so. In truth, Catra could do just about anything to her right now, pass it off as totally something everyone does, didn't you know that? and Adora would have no way of countering.

But-- everything Catra's taught her so far has felt good. Better than Adora even knew she could feel. Her trust in Catra runs deeper than her insecurities, or any strangeness the sensation might evoke. So Adora dutifully screws her eyes back shut and, with a tentative inhale, mirrors the touch yet again: her own lips parting, tongue slipping out to return the swipe.

Adora's short hum tickles, and Catra peeks open an eye to see if she's backing out; catching her just as her eyes are scrunching shut again, and Catra remains watching her for a second before following suit, a quiet purr vibrating in her next inhale. The tips of her nails scrape Adora's skin as she uncurls her fingers to stroke along the line of her jaw in encouragement, the touch of her tongue tingling across her lips.

It feels weird to do it, but nothing about this has felt bad so far, so Catra parts her lips to match Adora's, brushing their tongues together before she can think too hard about it. And that is -- that's good, that curls a warmth in her that gives her all the urging she needs to do it again, parting her lips further so that Adora will follow her lead and give Catra the opening she needs to trace her soft tongue with her rougher one, which is. Even better. Feels strangely warm, and wet, and she can taste the aftermath of ration bars when she glances into Adora's mouth - but the pressure dragging along her tongue sparks pleasantly, and Catra doesn't even recognize the noise that she makes at it. Something like the sound of an oh, except it comes from the back of her throat, is needier than a gasp, and isn't long enough to be a moan.

She refuses to admit it might fall into the category of a whimper.

That's when she pulls away, face flushed, licking her lips clean and swallowing. It all still tingles, hyper-sensitive in the wake of the kiss, and she curls her fingers under Adora's chin just for something to do.

"What d'you think?" She asks hoarsely, blinking slowly at her with eyes that won't quite open all the way, breathing deep to catch up on the ones she'd forgotten to take. Catra totally gets why the soldiers are doing that all the time, now. Definitely worth it.

Well, if it's never before occurred to Adora that you can put your mouth on someone else's mouth, putting your tongue on someone else's tongue is definitely a brand new concept. She wasn't expecting it one bit, and the unprecedented contact startles her, forcing a thin, high-pitched gasp. But-- even as her face twists up-- she leans into it anyway, because she told Catra she wasn't going to flake out or freak, and she's not gonna go back on her word so easily.

Catra's mouth is hot, but her tongue oddly cool, its sandpapery texture all the more noticeable when pressed over Adora's own, smooth tongue. The friction between them is new, buzzing, strange -- makes her lips twitch and her throat tighten, and in the midst of it all, Adora nearly forgets how to breathe.

But she doesn't even think about breaking it off. Not with Catra's purr thrumming all the way up to her tongue, with her fingers stroking sweet reassurance into her skin. Catra's pleasure traps her. She can't pull away.

By the time their lips finally part, Adora's lungs itch and her face burns, and the first thing she does is suck in a mouthful of air. The second, is wheeze out:

"Where did you learn that?"