#veega

“Veega. Is everything alright?”

“Mmm.” She presses a light kiss to Leela’s neck.

“Are you sure?”Veega loosens her grip. “Do you not want me to—?”

“No! No.” Leela exhales. “But you are not usually this—”

“Needy?” Her voice is wry.

“Not that.”

“Maybe I am.” Veega forces her muscles to relax and rests her head on Leela’s shoulder. “I suppose that’s better than being terrified.”

Leela stiffens in her arms. “What are you afraid of?”

“Aside from the usual?” Veega snorts. But this isn’t the time for flippancy, and the dark thing eating at her gut isn’t actually terror, not like she’s used to experiencing. There are life and death stakes, and there is this.

Veega closes her eyes. “If we—if this is the wrong choice, for us—it can’t affect Rayo.”

Leela’s voice is brittle now. “Do you think it’s the wrong choice?”

“No—that’s not what I’m saying.” Veega leans up to kiss Leela’s cheek in reassurance. She lingers, fingers stroking the back of Leela’s neck, until Leela sighs, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “But neither of us know what might happen, and if this doesn’t work out—”

“You will always be my friend.” Leela squeezes her shoulder. “I trust that.”

“Good,” Veega whispers, shaky. “Because you will always be part of this home.”

She snuggles closer to Leela, luxuriating in the sensation of holding her, of being held. They’re practically breathing together, in and out, rise and fall.

“I think I needed to say that,” Veega says softly. “Just in case.”

Leela shifts underneath her, and suddenly they’re face-to-face, and Leela’s cupping her jaw.

“You do not have to be sure about this.”

Veega shakes her head. “I told you, that’s not what I’m saying. I do want—” She cuts herself off by leaning in to kiss Leela, a soft press of lips. “I do want you.” She runs her fingers through Leela’s hair, trying not to clutch too tightly. Trying not to think about how many people she’s poured her whole heart into and then abruptly lost touch with, or worse, buried. It’s too late for that fear anyways—it was too late years ago, when Leela became the steadiness Veega needed. Her shoulder to cry on when she couldn’t let Rayo see her tears. Her protector, when she felt so very vulnerable. She has been afraid for years of Leela dying on her. But this fear of falling too hard, of broken hearts and strained tension that could crack her family apart—that’s a new one.

There’s always more to be afraid of.

It wasn’t just that she needed to speak the fear aloud—she needed to hear Leela say it. That she would always choose to be here. That their relationship could simply change again, if it needed to, and not break.

She kisses Leela again and again—and the kisses start tentative, but it isn’t long before her hands are in Leela’s hair, and Leela’s hands are sinking into the fabric of her shirt, and the kisses are deep, and messy, and exactly what she wants.

Their legs tangle together, and Leela grins against her mouth when she feels Veega roll her hips against Leela’s thigh.

“Middle of the night?”

“Oh, shut up,” Veega laughs, and then whimpers as Leela’s mouth drifts to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.

Their hands slip under each others’ shirts too quickly, but Veega so rarely gets to prioritize her own wants. And she wants this, here, now—her best friend groaning into her mouth as they grope each other clumsily under the covers in the middle of the night.

“Come here,” Veega whispers, a demand and a question, when she guides Leela’s hand into her pants.

“I am here,” Leela breathes. “And I am not going anywhere.”

Veega makes an embarrassing noise that might be a moan and might be a sob, but it doesn’t matter because Leela has heard both before. Leela gets to see the most honest version of herself, even if there are always going to be hidden corners, wounds too deep for her to name out loud.