[meme] christmas means k-i-s-s-i-n-g

[scovilles]

mistletoe meme!

hello friends! you've stumbled upon the dc universe's newest crop of hanging mistletoe - with your new favorite person! whether it's magical compulsion, that you're trapped until you kiss, or just tradition and social pressure, you've been caught under the mistletoe and that means you have to kiss.

get ready to pucker up, buttercup!

Comments

[partiers]

[ they've been here before — not here, in this room, but locked in similar positions, and kara has pulled away or made some excuse. he knows that she feels something for james, probably what humans call love. it isn't mating and it isn't the formal bond between kara and him, but it has more sway over her than whatever she might feel for mon-el. he's not blind to that.

and yet, here she is, eyes closed and staying, and when she speaks, it isn't a rebuke and she isn't yelling at him. there's been a lot of yelling, especially early on. ]

Yeah. I'd like that.

[advena]

Okay. [ the words are weighty, too, but she tries not to dwell on that. instead, kara reaches down, brushes her fingertips down the palm of his hand, smoothing a trail along his skin before tangling their fingers together. his hands are warm even in the cool air of the ballroom, steady and solid and sure.

they slip out a side door without speaking, and when the echo of the music fades away in the night breeze, kara lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was still holding. it doesn't completely dim the dizzy feeling in her head, but it helps. ]

The stars are out tonight. [ the clouds have parted, and at this place, further out from the city, they can actually see the stars. if kara's gaze lingers on them too long, her mind wanders back to life amongst them too. what this arrangement might mean if she was still on krypton, in her white dress, with mon-el. ]

[partiers]

[ their fingers tangle together, and mon-el squeezes her hand for a moment, as gentle as he knows how on this planet where his strength is far greater than it's ever been. he wouldn't hurt kara even if he squeezed harder; she's one of the few people here he can't hurt inadvertently with just an ill-advised touch, and yet, he wants to be careful with her, more so than he's ever wanted with anyone before.

they go outside, and he watches her watch the stars. ]

Do you miss travelling? [ he asks, in lieu of asking if she misses krypton (of course she does) or daxam (of course she doesn't) or if she thinks the war was worth it, if she'd rather have let everyone die than be promised to the prince of daxam in a quest to unite their peoples enough to at least allow them to fight side by side. ]

[advena]

[ mon-el is gentle; it's a new experience for kara. people look at supergirl and assume kara is untouchable. they are rough and demanding, insistent for the sake of justice and goodness and what's right. people look at kara, little kara with her assistant job turned reporter, and assume she's used to be walked on. they take advantage of her friendliness, expect her understanding even when it's unwarranted. kara doesn't blame them, or their actions, because she doesn't correct them. they're not wrong.

but mon-el is gentle, and his voice is quiet tonight as they lean against the balcony, stargazing. ]

More than anything. [ it had been a question she hadn't been able to answer honestly before. jeremiah had asked her once, over dinner when kara had been no more than fifteen. she'd wanted to tell jeremiah about the star cycles, the different ways that starlight twinkled in the sky, but one look at alex's jealous face had kept her quiet. now, with mon-el, kara knows there's no harm in the honest answer. ] Do you?

[partiers]

[ he nods slowly, less an answer to her question and more as an acknowledgement of her words. there's a small and bitter part inside him that wants to lash out and tell her that she's lucky she got to enjoy travelling, that she's privileged because she didn't have to fight a war, she didn't travel to see people die.

the stars are bright over their heads and her hand is warm inside his. he can't bring himself to be bitter, to hold on to the reasons why he could or even should be. ]

I miss some of it.

[advena]

I'm sorry.

[ the apology feels lazy, a plaster that can't possibly heal the wound she's casually picked at, but it's earnest in its own way. she turns to look at him; in the dim twilight, under the milky light of the moon and the stars, mon-el's skin nearly glows.

carefully, hesitantly, kara leans over to press her lips to his cheek. the touch lingers for a moment, soft and sweet, and she smiles against his skin before pulling away. ]

Thanks for dancing with me, by the way.

[ maybe it's a change of topic. it's not very subtle, but it's an attempt. ]

[partiers]

[ she's earnest and he thinks she means it. it's enough to bleed whatever anger he could have mustered up right out of him again before it has a chance to take hold. he can't be angry at kara; he's not sure he knows how to be. and when she presses her lips to his cheek, the touch lingering, he has to flex his free hand to keep from reaching for her, from pulling her closer. ]

Any time, Princess.