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Catra's not convinced, but the arch of Adora's back certainly does a lot to sell it. At the end of the day she is young, dumb, and full of hormones - and her eyes drop immediately to Adora's raised chest, her ears perking right back up.

There are, after all, way better things she could be doing than being grumpy right now.

"Fine," she drawls, like she's doing Adora a favour by moving Adora's wrists to pin them down against the roof. Catra uses her weight to secure them as she presses herself onto one knee and slides the other over Adora's thigh, straddling her leg again. Just the action makes her spark with heat, the memory of Adora's body tensing and shuddering beneath hers still vivid in her mind. Is it going to be like this every time she pins Adora now? Catra can probably live with that. "Try anything like that again and I'm calling this whole thing off."

Adora sighs through her teeth as Catra shifts, thighs instinctively tensing around her knee. It's only a light pressure still, but the memory of all it can bring makes Adora's blood run hot with anticipation.

"I'll be good! Trust me," she promises, and with a coy tilt of her head and a slight angling of her knee, adds: "Wasn't I good last night?"

Catra's stomach flutters all the way up into her throat, and there's an expectant pulse between her thighs when Adora shifts her knee.

"You did alright, I guess." Catra rolls her eyes, tugging Adora's wrists along the roof to hold them by her shoulders, keeping them pinned while she leans forward to hover over her; lowering herself so that the full length of their forearms press together, caging Adora in.

Adora's so -- nice to just look at sometimes, especially up close like this. Her eyes are the nicest, clearest blue-grey that Catra's ever seen; so different to the red, grey, green and brown of everything else. They're just about the only thing that hasn't changed as Adora's grown, even the softness of her face having given way to curved cheekbones and a sharpening jaw, and Catra's glad for it. The Fright Zone would be an endless drear without them to break it up.

"There's no blanket this time," she teases, her heart pounding so hard she's sure it might actually burst out of her chest. She's so close to Adora's lips again, tilting her head slightly in the opposite direction, lifting the edges of her mouth into a smirk to disguise how badly she's aching to kiss her again already. "Bet you can't keep quiet without it."

"Oh, definitely not," Adora answers with a flushed laugh. Competitive as she may be, knowing how to pick your battles is half the key to winning. And with how much of a struggle it was to keep the noise trapped inside of her, even with the makeshift gag-- yeah, she's not going to be making any promises.

But she pauses then, wetting her lips. Tips her chin to follow Catra's mouth, even as her brow crinkles with concern. (Because Catra will close that distance again, won't she?)

"It's okay, right? I mean, no one could hear us from up here."

Catra almost laughs too, tail flicking in exhilaration at just how -- eager Adora is.

"We're good," she agrees. And Catra wants to tease more about how quickly Adora just admitted defeat, ask her just how hard it was to keep herself quiet last night... but being able to do that when she's so close to Adora's willing lips is something that Future Catra might have the willpower to do. Current Catra does not have that ability.

Current Catra is winning anyway though, closing her eyes as she presses forward to kiss Adora again. Now that she knows the drill, there's no delay before she parts her lips to swipe her tongue across Adora's, eager herself to feel that bizarrely enjoyable tingling again.

Finally, Catra's mouth is on hers again. Adora was bracing herself for more teasing, or some kind of new restriction -- but no, she gets what she wants so easily, and her chest swells with giddy relief, channelled outward in a sigh.

That being said, she's still not sure, exactly, what she should be doing with her tongue. She strokes it against Catra's, gingerly mirroring her movements, but-- there's got to be something more she can do, right? Catra's mouth is uncharted territory, and Adora wants to explore: so with a tilt of her head, she sweeps her tongue across the backs of Catra's teeth, the roof of her mouth, the point of one incisor. She tastes like dinner and like-- mouth, which is an altogether different sensation than anything Adora has the vocabulary for. It's all a little strange, but she stubbornly pushes through. Whether these spots feel good or not... well, Catra'll let her know, right?

Edited 2020-07-12 06:00 (UTC)

The movement of Adora's head creates a pleasant drag against Catra's lips, the brush of their tongues inciting that spark again; and when Adora pushes into her mouth, Catra doesn't stop her, curious as well.

It is weird, really weird, to feel something against her teeth, but Catra allows it, just curling her tongue to press along the side of Adora's. Then she sweeps across the roof of Catra's mouth, and it's such an unexpected burst of sensation that Catra's breath hitches with a sharp gasp and she recoils, breaking away abruptly with parted lips and wide eyes, her ears back in surprise.

--That's certainly one way of letting her know. Adora hadn't expected to be, you know, naturally amazing at it or anything, but for Catra to flinch back so sharply-- Adora shrinks a little underneath her, embarrassment flooding her face with a fresh wave of heat.

"Um... sorry. Bad?"

Bad?

Well. Catra certainly knows what all that excessive moaning and groaning is about, now. It feels like every nerve in her body has been unwittingly woken and driven into hyper-sensitivity, to the point where she swears she can almost feel the individual prickles of her fur pressing into her uniform with every breath. Even her own tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth tickles now, and that's just so -- bizarre.

"It's weird," she rasps smartly, and swallows, licking her lips and feeling those tingle, too. She could explain, but Adora's right here, and words seem kind of pointless when she could just demonstrate.

"Lemme show you," Catra insists; releasing one of Adora's wrists to press her palm against her head, urging her back into position. And if there are no arguments forthcoming, she will; putting their mouths together again like increasingly familiar pieces of a puzzle, wasting no time before curling her tongue to drag across the roof of Adora's mouth. And that feels exhilarating now too, now that every part of her is alive with feeling. Makes it really obvious why people spend so much time on this.

"Mnn!"

She hadn't-- okay-- she hadn't realized that part of her mouth was sensitive like that, and Catra's tongue dragging a hundred tiny pinpricks across it makes her jolt. She tries to keep steady, ride the feeling out until she's used to it, but it's scratchy and ticklish and tingly and weird and she keeps forgetting to breathe. So she's ultimately got little choice but turn her head away, pressing her hot cheek to the cool metal as she gasps for air.

"Okay, okay, m-maybe not there," she concedes, eyes scrunching shut as she rolls her tongue around her mouth. "Man. Mouths are-- something else."

What a realization to be having -- she's always had a mouth. She uses it all the time, for talking, for eating... it just never occurred to Adora it could feel so much. That it could feel like that.

But then, that goes for every part of her body, really. It's like everywhere Catra touches ignites, nerves firing in whole new directions, rewiring her. Connecting her to her body in ways she never thought possible. She opens her mouth, thinking she'd like to express this somehow, but her words fall short. The newness, the unfamiliarity of it all -- she doesn't know how to describe it.

In fact, she doesn't even know the word for it.

Peering up at Catra inquisitively, her teeth worry softly at her lower lip before parting to release the question: "Hey, what's this called? The-- the mouth-on-mouth thing."

Oh man, Adora's saying not there and here Catra is, ready to give it another shot now that she's settling into the abundance of sensitivity. That surprised moan that had come from Adora was just -- amazing, had shot all the way through Catra, and if Adora hadn't jerked her head away she would've pressed down harder for more.

She laughs anyway, hoarse and breathy, because Adora's so dumb but Catra agrees. Mouths really are something else.

"What, that?" She actually has to rack her brain for it as she licks her lips off again, breathing heavier, and it's hard because not only do people talk about this less than other things - like doing this is something that's expected to happen alongside everything else - but because the movement of Adora's chest rising up against hers as she gasps for air is really distracting. "That's, uh. 'Getting it on'." she's pretty sure, anyway. That's what the soldiers jibe when they catch each-other doing it. "And - you know, kissing."

She nudges at Adora's head again, turning her face back up towards her. Not that Catra is eager or anything, but -- she's pretty eager, even though neither of them have caught their breath yet. It just. Feels so great, and Catra wants to keep chasing that.

"Wanna do it some more?"

Edited 2020-07-12 11:31 (UTC)

"Huh," Adora hums in response, filing the knowledge away in her head. It's pretty odd terminology, how you get it on in order to get off? But there are better things on her mind than to question that, right now.

"Yeah, I do," she says with a grin, and leans her head in the direction of Catra's, until the tips of their noses brush together. "I like kissing you."

And she buries her free hand in the thick of Catra's hair, over her nape, as she brings their lips back together. She's learning-- running her tongue over Catra's lips is good, stroking the tip against Catra's own tongue is good, too. Roof of mouth is off-limits for now, she thinks-- Catra didn't actually say she disliked it, but it only seems fair to make it even, if Adora forbade it on her end.

If she angles her head some more, she can slide her tongue along the side of Catra's, and down underneath it -- it's a bit of a strain, and it thrums in her throat, her heart pounding dimly at the edge of her ribcage. She doesn't know if tongues feel different in different parts of them, but it's at the very least worth finding out.

Catra's not the one who decided these terms, okay. Don't ask her about them.

Her lips quirk in a sharp grin to match Adora's, bumping back against her nose with a playful show of teeth. They used to wrestle shortly after doing that when they were kids, giggling and grappling and having fun.

Catra doesn't mind the change from that to kissing at all.

Adora's hand against her neck is good, and Catra does what she can to tuck her fingers into the hair at Adora's nape in turn. But it's a bit awkward, the angle and the lack of room, and she should move it to somewhere, but... she's kind of not left herself anywhere to put it, and Catra has to settle for just stroking along the line of Adora's neck and part of her jaw with her thumb.

Less awkward is the kiss, and Catra forgets that she's supposed to be leading this when Adora's tongue brushes all around hers. Instead she leans into her with a shiver, her knee pressing up against Adora as she goes, that same quiet noise from before gasping from her throat. Maybe it always feels this way, maybe it's because it's Adora, but everything about kissing seems way less weird now than it did before. Catra can go ahead and just - lick Adora's tongue as it circles around hers, can press against it with flicks and drags of her own, can tilt her chin so she can copy Adora, rubbing her tongue along the underside of hers to show her what it feels like; and that's somehow not the grossest thing she can think of doing. Crazy stuff.

Though they're both only exploring, clumsy with inexperience, the two of them stumble into synch somehow -- maybe because that's just how they are, Adora and Catra. The same way they move in tandem during training, the same way they've got each other mapped out from the tops of their heads to their toes; it's so easy, so natural, to tailor the path of her tongue around Catra's own, to commit each little noise that she makes to memory.

She really does like kissing her, Adora decides. She likes it a lot. She likes how clearly she can hear Catra's hums and gasps, can feel them on her tongue, so much more present and tangible than the monotonic whirring of machines all around them. With their eyes closed, their breaths mingling together, the wet heat of their mouths melting into one, it's a brand new kind of close-- completely engulfing the two of them and shutting the rest of the world out.

"This is-- good," she mumbles when they next break for breath, voice thick and sticky in her throat, her face warm all the way to her ears. Eloquence doesn't come easy to her in situations like this, clearly, but Adora makes up for it in earnestness, pressing light kisses all across the curve of Catra's lips as her chest heaves with expectation. "Teach me more?"

She is trying to catch her breath, okay, and it's hard with Adora's lips fluttering light kisses all around hers. It tickles, and Catra huffs a somewhat giddy laugh as she catches Adora's lips and presses on them firmly with her own to stop them.

Adora is such a suck-up, always determined to learn everything as quickly as she can to show off against the rest of the squad, and Catra is quite frankly enjoying being the one with all the skills and knowledge for once. So there's a grin on her lips when she kisses Adora's once, twice, three times in quick succession, drifting more and more off-center with each until the final one is dropped on the corner of Adora's mouth; and then Catra pulls back to sit on her knees atop her, eyes bright and tail brushing in languid strokes behind her.

There's the flushed, thoroughly kissed look she'd be after. Adora's lips aren't as red as some soldiers have been - were they biting each-other? It's the only thing Catra can think of. She can definitely do that, but Adora will probably complain - but the flush on her face makes up for it, and Catra's grin widens. No matter that she's still quietly recovering as well, or that she really, really wants Adora to just. Touch her in literally any way. Adora looks like a bit of mess, and she's the one who did that.

Her own hand on Adora's wrist is probably impeding that desire to be touched, so Catra takes both of her hands back. And then kinda -- isn't sure what to do with them, and Adora's chest is right there, so. Back to cup her hands around those curves it is. She likes them, anyway, so it's not like it's an ordeal to give them each a satisfied squeeze.

"What d'you wanna learn?" She asks. Her voice has dropped to that deep, rich rasp again, all but purring out of her throat, and Catra's tongue runs over her reddened lips with it.

If it's up to her, she knows what she wants to do - in fact she's already trailing her hands down from Adora's breasts, over her stomach, down to pull up the hem of her shirt. She has spent way, way too much time looking at Adora and thinking about touching Adora and imagining the heat of Adora's skin. So Catra is absolutely not pausing for anyone or anything before slipping her hands up under the hem, splaying her fingers on the warmth there. It shouldn't be as invigorating as it is, just doing that, and yet.

"You seriously never touched yourself anywhere before?" she curls the fingers of one hand, minding last night's reprimand - "no claws" - and drags her knuckles down the firm muscles of Adora's stomach. "--Not even here?"

Edited 2020-07-13 07:09 (UTC)

The sound of Catra's voice alone when she asks her that makes Adora's breath hitch, and the tightening of fingers over her breasts thickens that gasp into a whine. Adora's hands dart to Catra's waist and cling there, the muscles in her thighs closing around one bony knee.

"I just-- wanna learn everything," she answers, her fluster making her fumble. She bites her lip, exhales. Then, stopping to refine it somewhat: "Like what other things I can do with my mouth."

Because-- Catra'll get mad if she tries it again, probably, but that full-body shudder she gave when Adora ran her tongue over her ear still lingers in her mind. She wants that. She really, really wants that.

"My-- my stomach?" she squeaks out, instinctively caving under Catra's touch -- hand-to-skin, no barrier between them. Her body's reaction, tensing and fidgeting beneath the press of knuckles, is at clear odds with the words that leave her mouth: "No, why would I? It's just... my stomach."

Catra heard that hitch, and oh she likes this voice. She's gonna practice it, and then use it on Adora to mess with her whenever she wants. It'll be a nice reminder of these activities to distract her from anything else she's doing.

"Uh-huh," Catra purrs low, practicing holding that tone already. It's pretty easy, with Adora's body reacting under hers; her stomach flexing under Catra's hands, her fingers pressing in at Catra's waist, her thighs clenched tight around Catra's knee. "Just your stomach."

Her knuckles reach the bottom of Adora's shirt, and Catra's thumb hooks around the fabric. And then tries to tug it up. Only -- Adora's kind of. Laying on it. And she's heavy. So the shirt's kind of stuck on her, and Catra's attempts at shifting it aren't doing her much good.

Catra gives it another tug before huffing, ears drooping down in annoyance. In all her wildest imaginings, she'd never pictured Adora's clothes getting stuck.

"Don't just lay there." The purr is totally gone, traded for petulance. "Sit up a little, or something."

Adora's eyes widen, glancing between Catra's scowling face and her hands. "Oh, are you-- you're taking it off. Okay."

She sits up, the instinctive urge to follow instructions kicking in first, followed closely by hesitation as her arms furl over her chest. She peers behind Catra's shoulder at the doorway through which they came -- and she knows this was her idea, and that she chose this spot specifically for the isolation it guarantees, but...

"-- Nobody else ever comes up here," she mutters, half to herself and half seeking affirmation. She just needs a bit of reassurance, okay? And once Catra offers it, that's all it'll take for Adora to lift up her arms.

Edited 2020-07-13 09:10 (UTC)

"I'm not taking it off, stupid." Catra rolls her eyes, tugging insistently at the shirt. Still, her ears do twitch back to listen with a concentrated press of her lips; and she really can't hear anything else over the sound of the machinery pumping and grinding away. "We've been coming here for how many years now? And we've never seen anybody else up here. Nobody wants to bother putting in all that effort just to hang out in some smog."

Which says a lot about how desperate the two of them have always been to carve out their own personal spaces together. Not even Shadow Weaver has ever followed them out here.

"Come on," she cajoles, ears and attention turning back to Adora. "If anyone is dumb enough to climb all the way up here, we'll just tell them we were wrestling." Catra shrugs confidently. "It's happened before."

"Right! Just a bit of friendly wrestling. Nothing to see here." Adora sucks in a breath, nods decisively once, and loosens her arms from around her. They'll be fine. Catra's not even taking her shirt off. "Okay."

"Relax, Adora." Catra puts real effort into not rolling her eyes again, and fails to keep herself from doing it. She's pointedly careful when she grabs the bottom of Adora's shirt with both hands, fingers curling into the fabric to pull it up without accidentally tearing it. And she stops once she's got it to Adora's sternum, just below her breasts, only the slight edge of the grey undershirts they all wear peeking out. "See? You end up like this all the time."

Well. Maybe not quite like this. But Adora's shirt does often hike up a bit when they're grappling, and it's kind of an issue. One that Catra can finally take advantage of, as she presses her palms against Adora to get her to lay back down.

"Uh-huh. All the time."

She doesn't have it in her to sound properly convinced, but if there's one thing stronger than these sudden jitters, it's her desire to be touched. The sky is growing dark around them, machinery-smog surrounding the rooftop like a veil. Soon, it'll be hard to make out anything except for what's right in front of them. So-- they'll probably be fine, even on the off-chance someone does decide to climb up here.

And Catra's palms are warm against her bare skin, urging her back down. There's no part of Adora that can say no to that.

So she ducks forward to press a quick kiss to Catra's lips (an apology for Catra, reassurance for herself) before letting herself fall back against the roof, arms looping over the back of Catra's slim shoulders, now.

"See? I'm relaxed." The edge of her smile waves slightly: so don't stop, please?

Adora does not sound convinced and she certainly is not relaxed, but her shirt is up and she is laying down - so Catra's still winning.

"Sure you are," Catra scoffs. But. Look. She has what she wants - which is Adora's bare stomach exposed to her, and they're in a place where she can touch it - and she's not going to let the opportunity pass her by. She's already stroking her fingers along the warmth of Adora's skin, running along her ribs and down her sides, watching every twitch and jump intently. Adora's skin is so smooth, the fine hairs of her body barely even perceptible. Nothing at all like the fur that covers Catra from head to toe. Maybe that's why it feels so much better to run her palms up the defined muscles of Adora's stomach, and then slowly back down; tracing the tips of her nails around them. There's nothing else to get in the way.

The twitch at the tip of Catra's tail announces her intention well before it even registers in her mind. She is -- absolutely going to put her mouth there.

Her tongue finds her lips again, wetting them as she shifts, splaying her hands on Adora's stomach to keep her down. Catra only has to move a little to comfortably reach Adora's navel, her thick mess of hair shifting along her back as she leans down. Now's a good time to practice that deep, husky purr, she decides.

"So we're just licking each-other anywhere, right?" Nailed it. It comes out just the way Catra wants it to, low and almost rasping along the sides of her throat. She holds true to it for a moment, pressing her lips to the skin above the belt of Adora's pants, tasting the heady scent when she drags her tongue there; and then the deliberate point of her tongue becomes the flat of it, licking a quick and slobbery trail up and over the length of Adora's abdomen all the way up to the edge of her shirt, eyes glittering bright and grinning with amusement.

Because she has what she wants, but it's not fun if Adora's all tense and worked up. Catra knows her, knows she's going to spend this whole time freaking herself out if Catra doesn't do something to jarring to shock her out of it. And besides - Adora licked her ear. She totally should've been expecting something like this.

Edited 2020-07-13 16:14 (UTC)

Catra's voice washes over her skin, just above the swirling need in the pit of her stomach, and Adora shivers all the way down to her toes. Anywhere, she says, and Adora's brain screeches to a halt, images of Catra's mouth all over her threatening to overheat it. She sucks in a breath, just about managing a whimpered little "where?" -- before Catra goes ahead and demonstrates.

It's just her stomach, and Catra-- Catra's probably just being gross on purpose, but there's nothing to prepare Adora for the way her tongue feels in that moment. It drags up her body too fast for any part of her to be able to process it, running through her sharp and abrupt like an electric jolt -- coarse and warm and wet against already-straining muscles. Adora can't help the jerking of her shoulders and hips any more than she can help the startled moan that ripples through her, and by the time she catches herself it's far too late, Catra's chin propped up on her chest with a predatory grin.

"Catra," she groans through grit teeth, scowling against the tidal wave of heat surging from the base of her throat. She half-twists onto her side, as much as Catra's weight on her will allow, and her heart pulses with the acute realization of just how trapped she is. Oh, she's never going to live this down.

"'Stop licking me, Catra'," she mocks, pushing Adora back down with a snicker. Like the jerk of Adora's body and her (loud, woah) moan didn't sear bright and hot through her, quickening her pulse and roiling in her blood; or like her own hips didn't nudge forward towards her, over-eager with anticipation. But seriously, who would've thought the day would come where Catra wasn't immediately scolded for getting her tongue involved in things? "Man, you should see your face."

All flushed, eyes dark and narrowed, her eyebrows drawn and her jaw tight and teeth gritted with annoyance. It pulls sharply at the heat coiled in Catra's core, and her tail gives a long flick from base to tip behind her. She looks just like she does whenever Catra's pulled a dirty trick in training, except better, and it's just. So viscerally satisfying. Catra loves it when she has Adora beat.

Only problem is, the idiot seems to have forgotten - again - that she has hands she ought to be using. Her arms are still stupidly wound around Catra, which is such a complete waste. Adora could be doing so much better right now, and Catra rolls her shoulders to dislodge her.

"C'mon, don't make me go through this every time." She flexes her fingers on Adora's skin, and -- ugh, her muscles don't have any give at all to them. It's way more appealing than it should be, and Catra would really like to get back to running her tongue all over them. "I know you haven't forgotten how to use your hands already."

Edited 2020-07-15 15:58 (UTC)