#queer bread writes

Lena could rattle off every single one of her favorite food orders by heart now—from the extra cheese and bacon in her burgers at Big Belly to the drop of chili oil and quarter lemon squeezed into her soy sauce for her potstickers to the extra pepper sprinkled on to her morning eggs.

There was something intimate and vulnerable about someone knowing her so well that they know the way she likes to eat her food, knows what Kara needs before she (or her stomach)’s even said it, knows what’ll cheer her up or get her to calm down, knows how to convince her to eat healthy even if she doesn’t really need it. Something intimate about the way Lena knows her—in all the ways Kara’s learned to know Lena as well.

She knows that Lena loves only the simplest of sauces to go with her salads. She knows Lena hates salmon in almost the same way Kara hates kale (and most green veggies) but is way too polite to ever complain about it if left with no other meal choice (unlike Kara, who may or may not have faked a Supergirl emergency to escape such a fate or five). Knows that Lena likes her coffee black but likes a splash of milk in her tea (Lena says it’s different when it’s tea but Kara’s not quite convinced). Knows that Lena forgets to eat when she’s stressed out with work and projects, or when she’s sad and has more alcohol than blood running through her veins, or when she’s angry and works more on trying to fix the solution than on feeding herself, or when she’s overly excited and she forg—

Okay, so Lena’s dietary habits definitely need to be improved, but the point is—

Kara and Lena have known each other for almost six years now, and in that time, they’ve both made the effort to learn the little and big things about each other. Despite the secrets and heartbreak and hurt, despite the stilted conversations and painful rebuilding, despite the uncertainty and shy hope, somehow, some way, they’d managed to keep the things they knew about each other safe. Treasured. Sacred.

“What are you smiling at?” Nia’s voice broke through her thoughts, smug and knowing and smirk-y.

Kara could only elbow her away (because she wasn’t staring at Lena, she was just making sure the bartender remembered all their drinks) just as the last drink was placed on Lena’s tray. She shot Nia a quick, half-hearted glare before quickly turning back to her fries and eating.

Not to hide the blooming heat on her cheeks or anything, obviously. Her fries were just getting cold.

Cheers erupted from their friends when Lena arrived, a flurry of hands moving to pass each other their respective glasses and bottles. Kara watched the quick grabs for barely a minute before Lena placed the almost-empty tray in front of her fries, everyone having left their drinks alone.

“Enjoying the appetizer, darling?” Lena asked as Kara pulled out the empty chair right next to her. With chipmunk-cheeks puffing up her face, Kara nodded happily as she swallowed the greasy saltiness down, wiping her hands on her pants as she reached for her pocket.

“It’s great! Let me pay you back; how much did it cost?” Kara pulled her wallet out of her pocket, but before she could even open it, cold pale hands closed over hers as Lena chuckled and shook her head, “It’s my treat, darling.”

Kara whined half-heartedly, “It’s always your treat!” 

“Well, I’ve always been a billionaire since I met you.” Lena laughed, her cheeky smirk making Kara blush. “It’s only fair considering the number of times you’ve saved me.”

“That’s not even remotely the same!”

“Was it not you that said the way to your good graces was through your stomach?”

“I said the way to my heart was through good food. Besides, you’re always in my good graces.” And you’ve been in my heart since the day we met, Kara’s traitorous brain piped up, blue eyes determinedly keeping away from the mind-reading Martian on the other side of the table (most times, Kara felt like J’onn could still read her thoughts despite her Kryptonian genes). Thankfully, Lena’s warm laughter kept her occupied.

“Touching, darling, but just accept the fries.”

Kara pouted in reply, stuffing a handful of fries into her mouth petulantly as Lena hummed in non-apology.

It was nice.

Being the sole focus of Lena’s attention was really, really nice.

As the night got darker and the day got later, the Superfriends started bowing out one by one, promising to see each other the following week on game night. Soon enough, it’s just Kara, Lena, Alex, and Kelly.

“Take care, you two,” Kelly gave them each a hug, Kelly giving Lena another squeeze of a hug before she stepped out to inform the babysitter that she and Alex were on their way back.

It was Alex’s turn right after, her sister pulling them both in a hug before making Kara promise to make it to sister night this coming week. As the pair watched Alex disappear out the door, Lena nudged Kara’s shoulder with her own. She tried not to shiver at the way long, cold fingers slid down her forearm, tracing the lines of her palm before Kara tangled their fingers together and Lena replied with a gentle squeeze (and Kara’s always amazed at how Lena is always so, so gentle with her. Sometimes Kara wonders if she forgets that she’s Supergirl. Most times, she’s thankful for it).

“Let’s go home?” Lena asked, head tilted as if Kara had any other answer.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

-

All that had happened a week ago. Now, it’s Sister’s Night and Alex is demanding they watch a thriller movie since Kara had missed last week’s sister night to spend time with Lena (no regrets). Kara vehemently argues the psychological repercussions of making her watch a thriller but Alex isn’t having it. She’s stuffed the remote into her bra before diving face first into the couch, clutching it for dear life despite the fact that Kara can easily pry her off of it.

In the end, Kara gives in after only a couple more protests and a complaint-filled text to her best friend.

Thankfully, after Kara had texted Lena her Sister Night woes, Lena sends five orders of potstickers and two boxes of pizza to get her through the film. As soon as the orders arrive, she grabs the food and places everything on the counter, too busy checking each delivery to realize that she’s minutes away from getting grilled (or lovingly questioned, according to Alex).

Her Alex-senses are dulled at the sight of printed writing stuck on slips of paper taped to each order. The potstickers’ note reads “good luck, hero x” and the pizza’s “as always, these are both my treat xo.”

Kara folds the notes up with a pleased little grin, pocketing each paper before pulling out plates and glasses for their movie night dinner. She doesn’t notice how quiet Alex is as her older sister helps transfer the food onto the coffee table.

Kara’s already four pizza slices and twelve potstickers in when Alex finally tries to ask her anything.

Alex’s words come out slow and careful. “It was very generous of Lena to send over all this food.”

Her eyes narrow at the tone, suspicious of the questions hidden under the statement. “…Yes? She’s always generous.”

“I noticed,” Alex’s voice is wry, smile just as dry as she places her second slice of pizza down on her plate.

Kara feels that prickle of defensiveness start to bubble up at Alex’s pointed reply, but her sister continues before she can butt in. “But she’s always been a little more generous with you.”

“We’re best friends! Best friends can give each other gifts whenever they want to.”

“Really? ‘Cause my best friend’s never bought out half a restaurant for me.”

“This is far from half a restaurant, Alex.”

“I was talking about that time she rented out Uncle Chen’s for the night because you were finally feeling better about the whole Mon-El thing.”

She huffs, potstickers no longer as appetizing as when they started. “So? Lena likes doing nice things for her friends!”

“I don’t recall Lena buying out Big Belly for me, or buying Winn that fancy new tech toy they’d been geeking out about together, or getting Kelly that new sundress they’d seen at the mall. I’m not saying she wouldn’t if we asked, but Kara, you never have to ask for her to give you things. She just does.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“The opposite, actually. You mean something to her, Kara. And I’m pretty sure she means something to you, too.”

Kara’s mouth flounders, the words on the tip of her tongue too far out of reach. “She’s…”

Her friend.

Her best friend.

Her favorite.

Her rock.

Her hero.

Her—

“Everything.” Kara finds herself settling on the word that still doesn’t feel enough.

Being in love with Lena isn’t new, she knows, but saying it out loud definitely is. Saying it out loud feels like daring Rao to take Lena from her just like he took Krypton. Saying it out loud feels like begging for a miracle as your entire world collapses before your eyes. Saying it out loud feels like begging for air after being stuck in a timeless piece of space for twenty four years.

Saying it out loud feels like a prayer.

Like a promise.

Like it’s permanent.

It’s such a strange thing to feel. Ever since she’s arrived on Earth, Kara’s had a little timer ticking in the back of her mind. She’s lost Kyrpton, she’s lost her role as her cousin’s protector, she’s lost Astra, Adam, Jeremiah, Mon-El—some days she feels like she’s waiting for everything else to slip away, too.

Permanence has always felt like the tide, impossible to catch but easy to watch. Easy to stare at in longing as it laps at one's toes only to pull away again and again and again.

Alex and Eliza have made it easier to touch—easier to feel a lick of permanence wash over her every time they cuddle up for Danvers’ (sister’s) night or pick up her calls. Her new family’s made it all a little easier, too. Knowing that Winn and James and J’onn and Lucy and Kelly and Esme and M’Gann were all there to support her, cheer her on, and just be there has helped to ease the weight in her chest over the past few years.

And Lena.

Lena’s probably made it the easiest for her to imagine—to hope.

To hope that maybe permanence was unlimited access to a CEO’s office only weeks after meeting, or gala invites with potstickers on the menu despite the michelin star service, or wanting to stay to talk things through when you disagree on things (and being able to see their side, too), or being someone’s hero outside of her suit, or risking your secret identity when you think their life’s in danger, or realizing that you’re jealous of their ex, or them choosing you and you choosing them. Over and over and over again.

Because of Lena, Kara’s learned that permanence is tangible. Real.

Permanence feels soft and cool and callous on the tips of her thumbs. Permanence is gentle and purposeful and trembles when she kisses its forehead. Permanence runs slender fingers through her hair and whispers sarcastic commentary in her ear. Permanence says it hates dancing but dances with her anyways. Permanence forgets to eat sometimes but always makes time to have lunch with her.

Permanence texts her good morning and sweet dreams every single day. Permanence holds her close and cries when she cries. Permanence makes mistakes and apologizes and does its best to be better. Permanence makes her laugh and smile and feel light and floaty.

Permanence feels a lot like love.

Permanence acts a lot like Lena.

“Alex,” Kara breathes as if the air’s been knocked out of her. This isn’t new. It isn’t. And yet.

And yet.

“I love her.”

It’s different.

“I’m in love with her.”

Alex lets her head fall on to her shoulder as Kara reels with the weight of the words on her tongue for the first time in her life. It isn’t new. Her love. But the taste of it on her tongue is like potstickers after a crappy day. Heaven-sent. Galaxy-bending. Everything.

Alex pulls her close as a shaky breath leaves her lips. She can feel her sister drop a kiss on her head before murmuring, “Then maybe it’s time you let her know that.”

-

Kara decides to tell Lena that Friday.

She asks J’onn (and Alex) for that day off and they gladly tell her not to come in for anything less than the apocalypse. She asks Jess to make sure Lena doesn’t get any surprise meetings or extra paperwork and finds the task done within the hour. She finishes her work as fast as humanly possible and emails it to Lois to check over real quick just to ensure that Snapper doesn’t force her to redo it another seven times (Snapper makes her redo it only twice, which is a record all on its own, really). The second she’s done with work, Kara flies out for a little round-the-world supply run: pasta and pizza from Italy, Bailey’s cheesecake from Ireland, wine from Argentina, and a quick stop to South Korea for a potsticker or fifty.

When she gets back home, she unloads all the food on her kitchen counter and speeds her way through a quick shower and into a panicked phone call with Alex on what she should wear (“Anything is fine, Kara, seriously. You could wear a trash bag and Lena would still find a way to stare at your arms.” It doesn’t really help, but Alex takes some pity on her and they settle on a crisp blue button down and black slacks).

She feels a little more confident after Kelly and Esme compliment her (their, Alex corrects) outfit choice, so by the time Kara’s stored away the dessert, chilled the wine, and reheated their main meal, she feels a lot less jittery about the conversation she hopes to have tonight.

She’s mostly over her freaking-out-phase, but a knot of nerves stay seated firmly in her stomach.

She doesn’t want to back out. She doesn’t want to do this, either.

It’s almost twenty minutes later when she hears Lena’s heartbeat arrive at her street minutes before six thirty (the earliest time she and Jess could get Lena out of her meetings). Kara smooths down the front of her shirt as she waits for Lena to climb the steps of her apartment, wringing her fingers as she fights the urge to fly down and pick Lena up herself. The nerves that had fluttered in her stomach earlier that morning have turned into a twisting grind of excitement and anticipation.

No matter the outcome of her confession today, Kara knows that she can trust Lena not to pull away from her completely.

They’ve gone through too much for either of them to just walk away from each other now.

With that little thought of assurance settled deep in her chest, Kara feels the tension in her shoulders drop the slightest bit as Lena’s knock finally reaches her front door.

As soon as Kara opens the door, she feels her lips stretch into a wide grin. On the other side of the door, Lena’s smiling back just as brightly, a (stolen) oversized sweater and loose jeans making her look small and cozy.

“Hi,” Kara breathes, reaching out instinctively to pull Lena into a hug. Lena burrows into her in reply, warm lips ghosting over her collarbone as Kara hears her whisper the words back.

“Missed you,” Lena adds and Kara feels her heart flutter at the admission, feels like the universe is expanding in her chest. She tries to stifle her grin as Lena slowly pulls away but ultimately fails.

Kara repeats the sentiment before ushering Lena inside as a newfound excitement starts to build in her chest. Lena’s here. And she missed her. How can she not want to shout out her love now?

With a little anticipation shaking her fingers, Kara helps Lena with her coat before leading her to the couch.

On the coffee table, as neatly presentable as she could get it, is the little international dinner she’d managed to scrounge up. With a dramatic wave of her hands, she exclaims, “Ta-da!”

She hears Lena gasp before she sees blue-green eyes flit around the table, red lips stretching wider with every plate of food it lands on. Lena’s fingers wrap around her wrist and slide down to tangle with Kara’s own, squeezing her hand as she turns to see a blinding grin. “Kara, this is just—amazing, but, and I’m grateful for this, really, but did I miss a special occasion? I know it isn’t my birthday or yours.”

Kara feels her stomach flutter at the way Lena’s head tilts, red lips twisted into a bewildered smile. Lena’s just so cute. All the time. Especially now.

She fumbles for glasses that aren’t on her face and settles on tucking some hair behind her ear instead. Kara shakes away the breathlessness in her throat and smiles, “No, no special occasion. It’s just—you’re always treating me. Thought it was time to return the favor.”

(And Kara would never admit it, but seeing Lena’s smile light up her entire face, teary eyes shining over her scrunched nose, is more than enough reason for her to do this all over again.)

Lena’s laugh is giddy as they move to the couch. Each grabbing a plate as Lena smiles. “If I didn’t know any better, Kara Zor-El. I’d think this was a bribe.”

“Can’t a girl treat her favorite…” the word person dies off her lips as her world slows down at the sight of Lena’s childish grin as she grabs a slice of pizza, sauce and oil dripping into her palm before Lena dips down and licks it. A long pink tongue darting out and twi—

“Your favorite, huh?”

Kara feels the heat in her stomach jump to her face, blue eyes ducking to hide behind blonde hair as she lets out a sharp, breathy laugh. Lena’s soft red lips are twisted in clear amusement and the teasing brow Lena quirks her way does nothing to ease the butterflies in her stomach.

Still, despite the heat bursting to the tips of her ears, Kara knows that it’s impossible to reply any differently. Honesty, they promised.

So she shrugs. Because it’s obvious. “Yeah.” Inevitable. “My favorite.”

Lena blushes despite the beaming smile that takes up her face, the pleasant surprise evident in her crinkled green eyes.

“Well,” Lena smiles, crooked and dopey and entirely too endearing. “You’re my favorite, too, Kara Zor-El.”

And they could go on forever, Kara knows—their affection for each other thick and tangible and never-ending, but Kara’s stomach chooses that exact moment to protest the millennia of waiting for food and breaks whatever tension filled the room.

They spend the rest of the night trading stories about their week, laughing in between fresh pasta and pizza. Kara feels herself melting into the moment, Lena’s knee pressing into her thigh, dim lights turning green eyes golden, warmth climbing from her chest to her cheeks. There’s a buzzing in her veins—a staticky mix of nerves and calm and excitement and fear. Fear of the unknown. Of rejection. Of heartbreak.

And yet.

Lena always made her braver. Stronger. More hopeful.

Kara could always hope. Hope for nothing to change. For an answer. For the best.

So it’s after they’ve eaten dessert (Lena enjoying her one and a half slice and Kara her four)—stomachs full and spirits sated, a documentary about space playing out in front of them—that Kara gathers the courage to finally, just—say it.

“I love you, y’know?” Kara tries for casual and falls short by a mile.

Lena tilts her head at her confession, smile soft but eyes swimming with something.

“I know,” Lena replies, soft. Honest. Close. “I love you, too.”

And, oh, how sweet a fact? A universal truth? An unbreakable oath?

“Well,” Kara exhales, the tightness in her chest mixed with fear and love and hope. “Do you know I’m in love with you?”

Lena pauses, the emotions flitting through her face too fast for Kara to name, and then. Lena settles on just one.

Lena looks at her with stars in her eyes and a trembling smile. She looks at her as if she’s given her a cup of Colombian coffee seconds after she’s woken up. She looks at her as if she’s just solved quantum gravity. She looks at her as if she’s given her the biggest hug after a long day.

Lena looks at her as if she knows.

It’s a look that makes Kara lean in, a moth to a flame. A sailor to the sea. Kara Zor-El to Lena Luthor.

She leans in just as Lena laughs—voice wet but smile impossibly bright—and Kara can taste the way she whispers, “I’d hoped.”

Kara pulls back just enough to see Lena’s eyes falling to her lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then Lena closes the distance and kisses her. Deep and slow and everything.

-

“Was this whole—” Lena hums, snuggles closer into Kara’s side—the documentary they’d been watching rewound to the start because they’d missed more than half of it. “—around-the-world treat your big romantic gesture?”

And she snorts out a laugh because, well, she isn’t wrong.

“It was part of it.” Kara gives the covered pale hip she’s holding an affectionate, happy little squeeze. So, so happy. “How’d I do?”

“Eleven out of five stars.” Lena beams, stretching up to peck her on the lips before settling back into her side.

And as Janna Levin continues to explain what happens in blackholes on the dimmed screen in front of them, Kara pulls Lena impossibly closer and thinks that she’d never been more right.