Chapter Text
Catra and Adora’s second kiss is everything that their first wasn’t: slow, gentle, unhurried. Adora’s hand slides up from her back to tangle in her soft, short hair, and Catra can’t hold back a happy purr as Adora smiles against her lips. When they pull back for air, Adora is looking at her like she’s the entire world, the same way that she always has when she thought Catra couldn’t see her.
“It’s over, he’s gone,” Adora whispers like saying it too loud might break whatever spell they’re under, but some part deep inside Catra’s brain knows that it’s true. There’s so much more color in the world now than she’s ever seen and she doesn’t know if its the magic or kissing Adora or both and she still can’t believe that she can just touch Adora the ways that she’s always wanted to without worrying about losing her and–
It isn’t until Adora pulls in tight to Catra’s shoulder that she realizes they’re both crying, and she knows that their minds have gone to exactly the same place.
Somewhere back in the center of camp, she can hear Glimmer giving a rousing speech from a table that's been shoved into the common area. She thanks everyone at length for their sacrifices and dedication to the war effort, reminding them that this is the moment that makes all of it worth it. She talks of the work that will be required in the weeks and months to come- rebuilding, ensuring that this peace will last . She takes a deep breath.
“But tonight?” she asks, the polished, regal image she had been projecting vanishing as a smile overtakes her face, “tonight, it is time to fucking party! ” she yells as she practically leaps into the arms of the cheering crowd. Adora’s face flushes bright red when Catra takes both her hands and flashes her a wicked grin, fangs poking out at the corners. She’s been wanting to party with Adora ever since she was introduced to the concept, she just never even dreamed of getting the chance.
Catra moves to tug Adora up the hill, and before she knows it they’ve broken into a sprint, a hand still joined between them, giggling like they had managed to steal two weeks’ worth of extra rations in one go. The feeling is so good that she doesn’t see the root of the tree before it's too late.
Adora lands on top of her with a soft thud and Catra can see the look of panic in her eyes before she realizes that she hasn’t managed to break anything. Catra takes advantage of her hesitation, though, using her legs to flip them so that she’s straddling Adora’s abs and darting her hands towards the spot on her sides that’s always been absurdly ticklish. By the time they settle, both of them are absolutely covered in dirt and laughing like idiots again.
“I don’t know, princess ,” Catra lets her head fall back as she brings the back of her hand to her forehead, “I’ve been so horribly wounded that I don’t think I can walk. You’ll have to carry me.” Adora staunchly refuses to take the bait, but can’t fully hide her reaction to the title. Catra files that little fact at the back of her mind to use later.
“Mmmm, how terrible. I guess I have no other choice.” Adora’s response is perfectly deadpan as she slides a hand under Catra’s back to pick them both up, Catra pulling herself in closer with her legs around her waist to make it easier.
“Nope, stuck with me now, sorry,” she purrs into Adora’s shoulder as she reaches around to finally take her hair out of that stupid ponytail so she can play with it. She’s vaguely conscious of her tail winding around Adora’s leg as she untangles the golden strands, but she doesn’t care. She has no reason to hide it anymore.
The feast was hastily assembled with whatever could be grabbed from Brightmoon’s kitchens (meaning a lot of cured meats, cheese, and bread), but it's still more food than Catra has ever seen in one place. And from the looks of things, Adora intends to make a go at eating all of it. She’s always had an appetite, but Catra knows she still remembers trying to shove down as much real food as possible whenever they found it on patrol or managed to trade for contraband, not knowing when they would have a chance at anything other than ration bars again. Instincts like that take time to unlearn. And we have our whole lives to do it , she thinks as a warm smile spreads on her face.
The sun is low in the sky now, brilliant streaks of orange and purple coming over the mountains. The tables stand largely empty, most people filtering off to their own groups in the woods. The princess alliance (minus Entrapta, who wanted a head start on reverse engineering Prime’s comms systems and dealing with the clones) ends up in a clearing circled around a makeshift bonfire. Adora is still full of energy, talking with her hands as much as her mouth as she tells the rest of the group stories from space. Catra is too busy watching to actually listen, at least until Adora decides to whack her in the shoulder for emphasis.
“We had no idea how we were gonna get back without getting blown to pieces. And then Catra! Catra turned the entire ship invisible! With MAGIC!” Adora says, looking at her like she still can’t believe that it happened. Catra has never been more thankful that its difficult to see when she’s blushing as the entire group turns to her in amazement.
“I mean, Melog did most of the work, I just had to ask them,” Catra deflects sheepishly, trying to shrink away from the attention. Adora isn’t going to let her get away that easily, though.
“Yeah, but it was still your idea,” Adora prods lovingly, pressing a finger to her chest, “and besides, we wouldn’t even have Melog if it wasn’t for you. Learn to take the credit sometimes, idiot.” Sticking her tongue out is the only reply Catra can muster.
“Yeah uh, related question, actually? Where did the giant space cat… thing come from, anyway?” Mermista interjects from across the circle where she and Seahawk are sitting on a log. Catra sits up and turns to face the rest of the group. It’s only fair that she tell this one herself.
They pass a few hours like that, sitting around the fire, swapping stories both old and new, talking excitedly about what they’re going to do with their time now that the war is over. Frosta passes out at some point, curled up against Scorpia’s arm, and Seahawk uses carrying her back to her camp as a convenient excuse to drag a literal treasure chest full of whiskey back from his ship. That’s when things really get going.
Catra is laid out on the ground, head in Adora’s lap so that she can stare up at the sky, full moonlight bathing the entire clearing. Spinerella is sitting behind them, carefully working Adora’s hair into braids and mercifully forcing her to sit still for once. The best part of this arrangement is that both of Adora’s hands are on Catra, one tangled in her hair to get at the base of her ears and the other giving her scritches under her chin, making her purr like an engine whether she wants to or not. Her contentment must be more visible than she thought, because Netossa shoots her a knowing look and extends her hand for a high five, which Catra returns with a smug grin.
At some point in the night, Bow breaks out his fiddle and begins playing something Catra doesn’t recognize, soft music floating through the clearing. She isn’t sure if it’s the whiskey, the lingering adrenaline, or just love making her brain go mushy, but Catra is pretty sure she has the greatest idea in the world.
“Dance with me?” Catra asks, gently tugging Adora to her feet. The smile on her face is the only answer Catra needs, even as Adora dips into a mock curtsy and kisses Catra’s hand.
Dancing with Adora for real is everything that Catra ever hoped it would be (and she had put a lot of thought into it over the years). They don’t have any formal training, but they move so naturally around each other, setting into an unspoken routine of steps and turns even as Bow alters the tempo in an attempt to catch them out, that you could never tell by looking. At one point, Adora reaches out to twirl Catra around her hand and she feels like she might float away before Adora pulls her back in. And this time, when Catra takes Adora’s back and dips her low to the ground, they kiss the way that they had both wanted to at princess prom all those years ago.
Catra shivers as the gust of wind pierces her fur, some kind of uncomfortable noise escaping her lips and causing Adora to look down at her in concern.
“Cold?” she asks. And it is cold. Bow finally managed to cart an exhausted looking Glimmer off to bed after one last hug, and Catra and Adora are the only two people awake in the silent camp, finding themselves back on the hill they were on earlier.
“Windchill, mostly. ‘s fine though,” Catra mutters. She feels Adora shift back and starts to complain before she feels that stupid red jacket being wrapped around her shoulders. She looks up at Adora, mismatched eyes narrowed. “Didn’t we like, just talk about the whole sacrificing your own comfort for others thing?”
“Catra, I’m fineee,” Adora laughs, “I’m pretty sure I could use you as a space heater in a pinch.” She smiles, remembering all of the times that Adora had curled up next to her for warmth on nights when their thin standard-issue blankets weren’t enough. Or maybe she had just wanted the excuse to spend the night wrapped up in each other.
“Mmmm. Guess I have an important job, then. Someone’s gotta keep the savior of the universe warm.” She drives the point home by working herself further into Adora’s lap, letting arms wind around her waist under the jacket and letting out a happy trill as Adora presses a kiss to the top of her head. Less than 12 hours, and Adora had already discovered an entirely new range of sounds that neither of them knew she was capable of.
“You know I was kind of sad when I saw the stars for the first time? All I could think about was how much I wished I was up on the roof with you.” Adora’s voice is barely above a whisper, mindful of her proximity to Catra’s sensitive ears. She wants to come up with a snappy response, wants to call Adora a dork or something to that effect (because it’s just the truth), but her ears are pinned to the side of her head and her tail is lashing so hard that she’s worried about knocking them over.
“I… I was thinking the same thing” she eventually manages to admit, and Adora is pulling back to look at her with tears welling in her eyes. Catra wraps her arms around Adora’s neck to pull herself up, pressing their lips together for a soft kiss as Adora smiles and hums against her. Quietly, Catra makes a mental note to ask Scorpia to preserve the foundry when she’s rebuilding the fright zone.
The sky had always been a black abyss when they were growing up, with the exception of Etheria’s twin moons. Now, it’s a sparkling ocean, a lifetime’s worth of adventures waiting for them. Catra had never really thought about this moment, about what she would do with herself when there was no more war to fight. Just one of a dozen other things they would have to figure out together. But they have all the time in the world for that. And tonight? It’s just the two of them and the stars, stretching off into infinity.
At some point, Catra is vaguely conscious of strong arms scooping her up and carrying her back to her bed. But for once she doesn’t try to fight it, barely even stirs, actually.