Archive of Our Own

“We should smoke together,” Adora suggests, with all the subtlety of a neutron star. She had practiced making it sound casual and spur of the moment, but she knows her voice comes out like a nervous robot.

Catra stops typing for the first time in two hours. It's still quite amazing to Adora how she can just shoot out an entire paper in one sitting. She doesn't look away from her laptop, which is beat-up and littered with weird stickers but supercharged thanks to Entrapta.

Adora’s never smoked pot. Well, Sea Hawk convinced her to try once at a frat party when they were freshmen but it didn’t really work. She felt a little sleepy and a little worried that everyone was judging her.

Two weeks ago, she saw Catra smoke for the first time and Adora’s heart just about exploded from the cuteness. Someone passed her a bowl at a weird Korean horror movie night that she’d insisted on taking Adora to. After grumbling about other people’s germs for way too long, Catra took a couple small hits. Not 10 minutes later, she was all giggly and silly and let herself relax in a way that she never usually does. If you had told Adora 3 years ago that she’d not only be dating Catra, but that she’d one day get to watch her roll around on her back, purring and kneading the air for half an hour, she’d probably call you a witch and freak out. 

Apparently, Catra smokes occasionally and has since high school. She claims she’s never had that reaction before. She also claims that it didn’t happen that night – even though Adora definitely saw it and also has a photo that she’ll never tell anyone about – so Catra is an unreliable narrator as always. 

“Well, I don’t have a topic for my final Abnormal Psych paper so sure,” Catra replies. “Watching you get all paranoid will do. ‘The Experience of a Control Freak on Drugs’. This weekend?”

“I- You’re a control freak,” is really all Adora can say to that.

In response, Catra just goes back to typing.

“And anyway,” Adora continues, “I didn’t mean immediately. I just meant maybe soon.”

“But why?”

“Um.” 

Adora can’t say ‘I want to do more things with you’ because that will make Catra suspicious. She can’t say ‘because you’re cute’ unless she wants to ensure that it’ll definitely never happen. 

“I want to see what it feels like. You like it and you’ve researched the effect it has on brains, right?”

Catra just barely nods, still wrapped up in her paper.

“So we'll plan a day? I can get stuff if that makes it easier,” Adora offers.

She's never bought drugs before but Sea Hawk would probably be more than happy to help her out.

“Sure,” Catra replies, absently. “Whatever you want, Gray.”

Great. Phase one of her plan complete, Adora returns to studying in comfortable silence with Catra.

It's nice. They've spent a lot of time together ever since New Year's. Catra sleeps over at least half of the week. Her presence is no less confusing and exciting than before Adora had seen her naked. But it's actually pretty calming in many ways. Catra gets her and lets Adora be herself.

Last week, Catra had to work late on a project a bunch and Adora realized that she missed her when the girl wasn't around.

Rather than say that, Adora sent Catra a reminder to make sure that she was taking enough breaks.

“You're so gay for me,” is the text she got back.

That, Adora has surmised, is Catra’s way of understanding what Adora was trying to say and acknowledging it. It’s part of their shared secret language.

Like how Catra never says she wants to have sex. Instead, she lays down and asks if Adora wants to “hang out.” Or when she wants to go on a date, she vaguely says she wants to “make plans.”

Adora hasn't yet cracked the code on what Catra thinks they're doing together. They’ve been having sex, going out together sometimes, hanging out in their rooms plenty. She’s not sure what to call Catra and Catra just responds with chaos when Adora tries to have that conversation. 

“Hey, uh, Catra,” Adora had tried a few weeks before. “What’s happening here?”

“I’m drinking room temperature swill in a 10 by 10 square foot room packed full of sweaty miscreants because you needed an emotional support cat to attend your own victory party,” Catra grumbled into her red cup, sniffing haughtily.

“No, I mean, like. Between us?” Instinctively, Adora’s voice wanted to go up at the end and she had to fight to try to keep it low and cool.

Catra snorted, signaling the blonde’s failure.

It was a little ridiculous to be standing there, cute girls coming up to congratulate her repeatedly, only to be greeted by Catra’s bared fangs when they got too close to Adora.

“What do you mean, Gray?” Catra looked annoyed. Which usually meant she was just confused and stubbornly unwilling to admit it.

Adora’s friends had been making it clear that they thought things should be getting pretty serious between the two of them by now. She couldn’t exactly explain that nothing was official or that Adora had greatly overstated the nature of her and Catra’s relationship all those months ago to get Glimmer and company off her back. Catra certainly wasn’t going to help get her out of this mess.

Before Adora could open her mouth and elaborate, another girl came up to compliment her on what a great game she had played. Their basketball team was mid-level at best. She’d never gotten this much attention before. Perfuma had blamed it on the newfound confidence and comfort in her own skin that Adora had gained recently, thanks to a combo of finding a style that she actually enjoyed and maybe kinda Catra in some ways.

The girl lingered. She touched Adora’s arm. Catra lowered her cup from her lips just long enough to hiss in the girl’s direction. As she scurried away, Adora figured that the conversation could wait.

“You’re doing that weird thing again.”

Catra’s voice shakes her out of the memory.

“What thing?” Adora asks, blinking a couple times before she glances at the time on her computer. Shit. She must have zoned out for 20 minutes. 

“Making gay eyes at me,” Catra replies. She peeks up from her paper for just a second. “Like you want to hold my hand and build a cottage and listen to Hozier.”

“I’m visualizing my paper,” Adora argues. 

“I’m pretty sure your lit paper isn’t about how fucking dreamy my smile is, you hopeless queer,” Catra shoots back. Her tone is actually super cute and charmed though, and, for a brief moment, the edge of her plump lips quiver like she might let loose a smile against her will.

But then a young-looking pimple faced kid appears and asks, “Hey, can you help me?”

They don’t even bother looking at Adora, face trained on Catra, no doubt from her reputation as the most helpful staff person at the info desk. No one had come by for the last couple hours since they were in that peaceful lull between midterms and finals. Adora had completely forgotten what she was even supposed to be doing while she waited for Catra’s ever-elusive grin.

“Yeah, what’s the fire, kid?” Catra asks without looking up from her paper.

The freshman huffs but begins to explain what they’re looking for from the stacks. They enter a long and rambling and very unsure monologue about a specific era in medieval art and culture and Adora’s actually really relieved that this person correctly judged that she’d have no fucking clue how to help them. Without missing a beat, Catra stops working on her own paper to grab a nearby post-it note, scribble some thoughts and reference books down, and dismissively shoo the student away.

“Haven’t you been asked to please actually look up the topics before making recommendations?” Adora points out.

“Regardless to what they write, that’s a C+ at best,” Catra announces as they walk away. “They barely knew what class they were in. Kids today,” she scoffs, shaking her head in shame.

In a different world, where she was at the will and whims of a different romantic partner, that conversation might have been forgotten.

Adora’s never confirmed this, but she’s pretty sure that Catra’s mind is like an intense filing system, storing information away until she needs to access it most.

Two weeks after their seemingly innocuous talk about smoking together, Catra rushes into Adora’s dorm as soon as her lecture on minorities and the media is done. She’s usually amped up after this class, something about telling the professor off always managing to get her blood pumping.

In the spring heat, she’s wearing faded black jeans that are ripped in maybe too many places and a charcoal gray shirt that probably started as baggy and has now been hacked down to just barely cover her shoulders and torso. Catra doesn’t even check to see if Adora’s busy or alone before chucking her backpack onto the floor and throwing herself onto the long twin bed. She bounces just a little as she lands.

“This Friday is 420,” she announces, like she’s figured out some unsolvable puzzle. “You don’t have class or work. We’re gonna get you stoned and have the best high holiday ever.”

It’s hard not to get lost in Catra’s enthusiasm but Adora resolves to stay strong.

“Oh. That sounds absolutely terrible,” she responds mildly from her small desk. She can’t hide the small smile that tugs at her lips when Catra gets excited for making plans together, though.

Catra laughs as if Adora just told the funniest joke. And then she moves on like the blonde hasn’t spoken.

“It’s gonna be amazing! We’ll go to the movies and eat the best food and...fuck it, I’ll even take you on a hike.”

They’d been negotiating doing things the other was into since this whole ‘semi-dating’ debacle had started. Adora was into fitness and being active and spending time with her friends whenever they were back home visiting. Catra was mostly interested in books and movies and naps. Obviously, Catra was more convincing but the blonde had started to keep a running tally of compromises and Catra was surprisingly winning, somehow more down to acquiesce to Adora’s requests than vice versa.

It shouldn’t make her feel special and seen, Adora kept reminding herself. This is what reasonable people in a quasi-relationship did, right?

She decides to suggest, “What if you smoke? I can enjoy all of those things sober. Maybe I’ll sneak a beer into the theater if I’m feeling really adventurous?”

Catra scoffs. She moves onto her side and bends her arm at the elbow so she can prop her head up in her palm.

“We're going to the nicest theater where they serve booze. I'll even split an alcoholic milkshake with you.” This was Catra’s version of being nice. She’d previously complained many times that no one needed to pay $17 for two scoops of ice cream with some vodka.

“So I have to be paranoid and sit in a dark enclosed room with your farts?” Adora asks. She smirks a bit so Catra doesn’t immediately launch at her, claws first.

To her surprise, Catra basically gasps. She has to pucker her lips to not look amused and embarrassed at being called out.

Adora considers that a huge win.

“Big talk for a sleep farter,” Catra accuses.

“That was one time!”

“Stay on topic, Gray,” she admonishes, shaking her head like Adora’s being a naughty kid. Then, of course, Catra adds, “And it happens every night.”

Before Adora can defend herself and the folic acid-rich diet she maintains or point out that Catra would probably sleep easier and more deeply if she didn’t take random catnaps during the day, Catra continues.

“Anyway,” she draws the word out slowly and loudly. “We’ll make a day out of it. I picked up a couple babysitting gigs and so I've got some cash to burn. It can be a whole thing – see a movie, eat lots of snacks, lay in some nature. I’m gonna make this a very chill first time for you.”

Adora has to turn away so Catra doesn’t see her pleased grin or how her face is heating up from the attention.

“Perfuma’s visiting this weekend,” the blonde says. “She’s throwing some sort of moon festival thing in the Whispering Woods Friday evening. We can do that instead of having to figure out how to drive out to the mountains after smoking.”

“I’m a really good stoned driver.”

“You don’t own a car. Are those two things possibly related?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Catra replies with narrowed eyes.

Adora turns back to throw a smirk at her. “Want to come do something about it?” she teases.

There’s still a throbbing in her shoulder from some light wrestling a couple days ago that turned into Catra trying to get Adora to shut up by sinking her fangs into the human. Unconsciously, she reaches up and scratches a little at the scab that’s forming.

Adora’s not entirely sure why she’s baiting Catra. It’s a Tuesday afternoon and she has work to do. She’s also kinda addicted to seeing her sorta-girlfriend-ish person in her bed.

Catra’s gaze flicks down to the blonde’s shoulder quickly. Her eyes blow out just a little.

“You’re done for the day, right?” she asks, implications crystal clear. “Want to hang out?”

“I’ve got an assignment due tomorrow morning for that sociology class.” 

Adora knows from experience that if she gets into that bed now, Catra’s not letting her out until her alarm goes off for her 10am lecture.

“I’ll help you finish it later,” Catra offers and her voice does that thing where it gets so low and throaty that all Adora wants is to see is her mane splayed out against the gray sheets and that little flush she gets on her cheeks when she’s touched in just the right way.

Adora takes a second to consider her options but it’s pretty irrelevant cause her hands are already going to her waist to undo her own pants. She’s lost quite a few buttons to hurried, distracted claws these last couple months.

Adora’s face-down. She doesn’t want to be but there’s not really any feeling or strength in her arms and legs so this is how she has to live now.

The world looks very different from here. She can see a random pen that’s fallen under her desk, for example. And the dust underneath her lampshade. And every drop of sweat on Catra’s ribs that she wants to lick off.

“Do you need water?”

Unlike Adora, Catra seems to have her back glued to the bed, chest heaving like she just ran laps until she dropped. She’s still got that post-sex glow, which just makes the cute little freckles on her cheeks pop even more. Her hair looks like a fucking tornado hit it. Adora always gets carried away when she’s allowed to get her hands into those unruly brown locs.

“So beautiful,” the blonde mutters into the mattress.

“Fucking embarassing,” Catra replies. With subtle grace, she pries herself off the bed and heads into Adora’s tiny kitchenette.

At some point, the sun must have set and Adora’s stomach starts growling right on schedule. A plate of meat and crackers is dropped next to her face. It’s not gourmet or even pretty, but this is one of her favorite snacks. Adora picks up a piece of smoked ham using only her teeth, while Catra returns and sets two cups down on the cheap plastic endtable that came with the room.

“Here,” she shoves a cracker into Adora’s mouth. “You don’t have a hangover cup?”

“What’s that?” Adora asks around a mouth full of saltine.

“Lonnie, that idiot, has a fucking sippy cup for when she’s too hungover to lift her head and drink water.”

On more than one occasion, Adora’s wondered if this is how Catra talks about her when she’s not around. Both fond and annoyed, in the same way she describes her childhood best friend/rival, Lonnie.

She drops one hand underneath Adora’s chin and the blonde only blushes a little when she realizes she can smell herself on it. With great care, Catra tips her head back and uses the other hand to gently pour water into Adora’s mouth.

“Hmm,” the blonde hums, nuzzling into the padded fingers on her face. “Lay down please?”

“Are you gonna behave? We have plans to make and then I gotta make sure you pass sociology.”

“I have a B,” Adora grumbles.

“I’m horrified that you think that’s good enough. I thought I was fucking a champion.”

The bed dips and then Catra’s flush against Adora’s back, her fur still slightly damp with sweat but as soft and comforting as ever. Adora hums again, matching the quiet purr that comes from deep in Catra’s throat.

“We have to set some ground rules.” Catra pauses to feed Adora another cold cut. “What do you feel comfortable consenting to when you’re stoned?”

“Uh, like what?”

“I assume you don’t want me coming at you like a red-eyed sex maniac. So Kissing? PDA?” 

Adora nods quickly. This is why Catra’s the best. She’s always so thorough.

“What about fucking?” she whispers right into the blonde’s ear.

Adora’s nervous, hyena-like laughter is probably enough of a boner-killer to keep them from getting distracted again.

“I don’t know that I’d be able to relax enough to enjoy all the things we do. But I’d be down to touch you. Would you want that?”

Catra purrs a little more, grinding down against the back of Adora’s thigh.

“It’s intense. I usually like it but we’ll play it by ear.”

Adora half-coughs on another dry cracker and is once again rescued by Catra tilting water into her mouth.

“We’ll need some safe words,” Catra continues.

“You’re not planning to tie me up and leave me somewhere, are you?”

“What is this? Your birthday?” She builds a tiny sandwich with the crackers and meat and takes one bite before feeding the second one to her human mattress. “We need some signal for when someone’s being weird and needs to chill the fuck out.”

“Your mouth is saying ‘someone’ but your eyes are saying ‘Adora’,” the blonde points out.

“I’m glad you know yourself. So what’s your word, pet?” To punctuate that question, Catra scratches her claws up Adora’s undercut before weaving them into the longer part of her hair and tugging.

If she protests to that new nickname in any way, it’s guaranteed to become the only thing that Catra calls her in public from now on. So instead, Adora tries to think of a phrase that’s bizarre enough to stand out but normal enough to slip into a conversation.

“Chili Con Carne.”

“There’s a 98% chance that we’re gonna end up ordering Mexican food so that’s gonna get confusing, I’d guess.”

“Sassafras.”

“I insist that you use that in a sentence right now.”

Adora quickly answers, “Did you know that sassafras is what gives root beer its distinctive flavor?”

For a long moment, Catra just breathes silently, her ribs contracting and then growing against Adora’s back, fur tickling against skin.

“Well, I’ve been looking for an excuse to retire from public life so I guess having to say that dumb ass sentence in front of your friends is good enough. Let’s do it.”

Adora spends Friday morning trying to find her center or whatever. Catra and Perfuma both suggested that she’d have a better time if she tried not to worry about anything. Unlike Perfuma, who sent Adora a podcast to listen to, some mantras to repeat, and an instructional video on breath work, Catra just cackled after she said it.

So Adora tries to center for about 15 whole minutes. She takes a long shower in her tiny bathroom. She picks out a comfortable outfit, stretchy dark blue jeans and a black tanktop, just in case she spills anything on herself. She examines the small amount of weed that Sea Hawk gave her, as if looking at it close enough will allow Adora to come to terms with it.

Once all of this is done, she sits on her bed and just waits. Catra had wanted to sleep over and start smoking as soon as they woke up to give her enough time for her full day of adventures. Adora thought holding off until noon was much more reasonable. Catra announced last night that she wouldn’t be staying over then cause she had to call an ‘audible.’ And that’s how Adora learned that hearing hot women use sports metaphors really did it for her.

A half hour past when she was supposed to actually come over, Catra strolls lazily into Adora’s dorm without knocking. She’s calmed down since originally announcing her idea earlier in the week but is still roughly about 5 times more excited than Adora’s used to seeing her.

Hair pulled back into a huge ponytail, Catra’s wearing a maroon tank and torn black leggings. And no shoes.

“We’re going into the woods,” Adora points out.

“Well, hello to you, too. I’ve got shoes in my backpack, mom,” Catra replies, rolling her eyes.

“Not a kink I’m into. Just, if you’re keeping track. Which I know you are.”

“Right,” she says, dropping her backpack gently onto the desk. “Strictly butt stuff.”

“Catra!” There’s no one around to witness this joke but it seems important to cut it off regardless.

Without responding, Catra begins digging into her comically overstuffed bag. There is indeed a pair of boots that definitely aren’t made for walking through trails, a tupperware with chocolate cookies, some kind of weird plastic craft box, and several other things that Catra moves around too quickly for Adora to identify.

When she finally looks back up, Adora notices there’s something just a little ...off. Catra’s eyes are way more dilated than they should be and she’s purring non-stop, very very quietly.

“Did you already smoke?”

“I may have gotten stoned with Entrapta at 4:20am and then watched the sun rise,” Catra replies, like that’s a normal thing to do. Gods, the idea of Entrapta in any altered state of mind is very terrifying. Adora will have to check the campus threads later to see what incidents were reported at Horde Hall this morning. 

“Then I passed out. Let her convince me to have just a tiny bit of catnip. Passed out again. Now I’m here. And I brought these.” 

Catra thrusts the tupperware into Adora’s face. It misses hitting her square in the nose by about an inch. It was probably too much to hope that Catra would have enough self-control to babysit the blonde today.

When Adora doesn’t immediately take the container out of her hands, Catra does kind of lunge it at her head. The blonde manages to catch it but Catra doesn’t even get a chance to witness the stinkface she makes before she’s digging back into the bag. The weird craftbox comes out next and then there’s just a random sundry of crap on Adora’s workspace.

For someone whose work is so tidy, Catra always manages to leave a mess whenever she visits. Obviously, Adora has no intention of dating anyone else, but on more than one occasion, someone’s come to her place to hang out and been confused by a seemingly random pair of lacy underwear or a headband that Catra’s broken in and left behind. 

Adora opens the tupperware tentatively. Huge mistake. The smell of weed hits her before the lid’s even cracked all the way. She throws the container down like drug dogs are going to bust in at any moment.

Paying no attention to any of that, Catra begins poking into all of Adora’s secret hiding places. There’s no reason why she should know any of these. Claws dig into the broken desk drawer where Adora keeps her extra cash. The box under her bed next to the toybox that Catra stashed there. Behind the bookcase. 

Adora just lets her tire herself out cause honestly the whole day will be easier that way. 

“Whatcha looking for, bud?” she asks finally. Her voice is just a touch mocking.

Catra, who has a million secrets, thinks she knows all of Adora’s. What a fun, rare treat it is to prove the genius wrong for once.

“Where’d you put the stuff you got from bird boy?” she questions. She’s now reduced to crawling around and sniffing in the air, her tail winding around curiously.

Remembering the whole point of this exercise – to get Catra stoned and watch her be cute – Adora descends from her proverbial high ground.

“It’s in the kitchen cabinet next to the spices,” she explains.

“You mean the salt and pepper,” Catra corrects rudely. “This apartment has seen nary an actual spice since you moved in.”

“Salt and pepper are spices.”

“No, Gray. Cumin is a spice. Fennel is a spice. That fucking sad 99 cent blend of italian seasoning they sell is even technically a spice. You should try purchasing those.”

“You can critique my cooking style when you actually make a meal for once,” the blonde grumbles.

“Funny. You ate me like I was breakfast, lunch, and dinner two nights ago.”

Catra returns with the tiny bag of bud in her claws. Sea Hawk didn’t have any ziploc bags so he had decided to wrap it in plastic wrap. But, he didn’t actually have any of that either, so they had to settle for bunching it into printer paper, tying multiple rubberbands around it, and hoping for the best.

Catra’s face is feedback enough on how successful that was.

The craftbox is apparently some sort of bad idea goldmine. There’s a bowl for smoking, some other random drug paraphernalia, incense, dice, what appears to be a lockpicking tool, a pair of black latex gloves, and a travel-sized lube.

“What could today’s plan possibly entail?” she wonders aloud.

Catra’s too busy packing a bowl to look away.

“This is my old bag. From before I started hanging out with you and went all domesticated.”

Adora snorts. Catra’s as feral as ever. She’s fooling absolutely no one.

Bowl packed, Adora preps herself. She does some deep breathing. She turns on some calm music that Catra immediately hates. She opens a window and stuffs a towel under the door. She’s ready and she’s definitely not going to freak out, no matter what Glimmer’s been heckling her about via text all week.

“My fucking lighter’s missing,” Catra says, interrupting Adora’s flow. She turns all of the contents of the box out, items spilling everywhere. Adora’s going to find suspicious shit in here now for days.

Catra searches and searches but there’s really a limited number of places it could be. As a courteous host, Adora produces a candle lighter from the kitchen.

“I don’t like the vibe of that one,” Catra whispers.

“Did you forget to mention anything else you might have taken today?” Adora asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“ No . I-” She pauses to turn something over in her mind. “I might have accidentally eaten some of the cookie batter while I was baking them this morning. Just a little though!” Catra adds quickly. “I made the dough last night and the recipe said to let them rest but then Trapta got distracted so I got distracted and we ended up not actually cooking them until we woke up today.”

Catra’s ears drop, lowering to her head. Like she expects Adora’s to be mad or something.

“That’s okay,” the human assures her. “We’ll think of something else. I can go buy one.”

“Do you have any cash?” Catra asks quietly. “Your stupid deli has a $10 credit card minimum.”

Yes, she’s well aware of that. Adora’s witnessed more than enough late night rants about that, when Catra stubbornly refused to spend extra money to buy a bag of chips. In the end, she’d always let Adora actually buy them for her, along with whatever random other crap she wanted to snack on. But Catra loved to complain about how this was deeply unfair to struggling college students when the university-owned and operated fake ‘corner store’ could just decrease the minimum and still make plenty of money.

“I’ll just go.”

“No, we have to stick to our principles,” Catra shakes her head. “What about your stove?”

“It’s electric.”

Now. This happens so quietly that Adora’s almost not sure she hasn't made it up. But just the tiniest little voice replies.

“BoogieWoogieWoogie.”’

The ensuing silence is so total that Adora can hear not only her own heart beating but Catra’s as well.

“... what?! ” the blonde shrieks , almost falling over laughing.

Catra’s so startled that she jumps up on the mess on desk, haunches raised. When she sees that the only threat is Adora giggling until she loses her breath, the cat grumpily climbs back down into the chair.

Adora just barely gasps out, “Did you just sing the Electric Slide? How high are you?”

Raising from the desk gracefully, Catra harrumphs. Oh no. That’s her ‘I’m going to text in the bathroom for 30 minutes while you think about what you’ve done’ sound. Adora wisely intervenes by scooping Catra up in her arms and hugging her close.

“Baby,” Adora coos with a warm smile.

Even being carried bridal-style, Catra refuses to let down her guard. She crosses her arms and frowns, pretending that forcing Adora to hoist her up in the air isn’t her favorite pastime. This does give Adora an idea though.

“I’m sorry,” she continues. “Would it make you feel better if I carried you on my shoulders when we get to the woods? I’ll even climb a tree with you.”

That’s definitely a cat thing. A few times, Catra’s tried to climb up and sit on Adora’s shoulders so she can tower over everyone and preen like their liege. It successfully worked at the end of a basketball game, adrenaline fueling Adora’s blood. It was much less successful after a night out where it ended in Adora scraping up her knee on the sidewalk and Catra, of course, landing on her feet and acting like nothing had happened at all.

“Fine,” Catra responds in a monotone. Then her entire body goes limp and Adora has to adjust quickly not to drop the dead weight. “Put me on the bed.”

Adora walks over and gently lowers the girl down, taking care not to dump Catra on her tail or anything.

“Eat half a cookie and then come lay down,” Catra instructs. “The loss of my beloved lighter has taken a toll on me and I need to mourn.”

She whips off her shirt without warning or context. There’s no bra on underneath. There never really is and yet Adora is still never adequately prepared.

With a purr, Catra rubs her back along the sheets and then decides apparently that that’s not enough. Adora watches with wide eyes as Catra rolls around, turning at least two full circles while burrowing into the sheets and sniffing along the side of the bed the blonde usually sleeps in.

“Stop gawking and eat a damn cookie,” she mumbles, cheeks starting to redden.

Adora follows without question. 

Drugs are weird. She’s never been into the idea of not being in full control. But Adora handles her alcohol well enough. And she wants to feel whatever weird, fuzzy, warm thing that Catra’s feeling right now. Bonding!

The cookie is unfortunately disgusting. It tastes like eating a bag of dusty, dried poultry seasoning. Once she gets past that, it’s surprisingly good though. The chocolate is nice and dark, kinda bitter. The chewiness is good.

“You really made these?” she asks with her mouth half-full.

Catra stops purring long enough to say, “I’m amazing.”

It’s a relief to know that even with someone else at the wheel, Catra is still a self-important asshole. Maybe this experience won’t be so confusing.

The cookie is delicious enough that Adora convinces herself that Catra won’t miss the other half. So instead of leaving it in the container, she shoves it into her mouth. No harm done.

“Get some water, too. You’re gonna be dehydrated.”

Adora lifts her huge plastic 1 gallon water jug up off the floor to show Catra. She grumbles something about ‘dumb jock’ but shuts up when Adora removes her shirt to lay down. Catra doesn't let her get settled in. She immediately pounces on the human and tries to shove her whole body onto Adora’s stomach. There is not enough real estate for that.

“How long should it take to kick in?” Adora grunts out, trying to shift the dense unmovable furry ball on top of her so she can breathe.

“45-60 minutes.” For no reason at all, Catra fishes around for Adora’s hand, lifts it up, and bites down on it.

And then she’s completely out again.

It takes 38 minutes for the cookie to hit, which Adora spends quietly logging the experience on her phone, just in case. She silently lists off the reasons why she likely has a faster metabolism rate. Adora imagines Catra making fun of her about that and then she laughs, which jostles Catra and her head suddenly snaps up, eyes raging at being disturbed. Adora laughs harder. 

Such a fluffy face. Her little frowns are always so cute.

In response, Catra slowly narrows her eyes and begins looking around Adora, examining her.

Adora’s skin feels a little tingly. Her feet especially , but her whole skin really. And every place that’s touching Catra feels like it’s being gently caressed by a soft pillowy cloud. So she just holds on tighter.

Catra, true to form, immediately decides to not cooperate. She tries to wriggle out of the blonde's arms, probably just to be contrary. Adora's head feels too heavy to hold up any longer but she could keep up this hug all day.

“Gray,” Catra pants out, pushing against the biceps locked around her shoulders. “Remember there's some subtle nuances between cuddling and holding someone hostage so they can't escape.”

Adora lets her grip relax.

“But you're so soft,” she mumbles. “I love the way you feel against me.”

Before Adora can explain that Catra's kinda like a human-sized cotton ball or pussy willow, which could only have disastrous repercussions, the girl on top gently pushes their lips together.

It's so leisurely, as if Catra has hours and hours to just kiss Adora and plans on using them all. She wraps her arms around the blonde's head, cradling her neck and tilting her so Catra has complete control and reign to explore Adora's mouth.

Catra was right. It's intense. All sweet heat and honey slow. And Adora can't remember ever getting this turned on this quickly. She regrets making that no sex rule and Catra's probably not going to let her take it back now.

They stay like that for a good while, just taking each other in.

“You feel okay, baby?” Catra whispers against Adora's lips.

Baby. This is probably the first time that Catra's called her that outside of sex. Really the first time Catra's referred to her as anything other than ‘Gray’. It makes Adora feel light and made of goo inside.

She nods, wanting to tell Catra how amazing she feels whenever she's around her. But the words kinda sound a bit jumbled and rambling in her head.

Catra uses the pause to bury her nose in the blonde’s neck.

“You smell good,” she says, the sound coming out muffled.

“I stopped using scents when we started hanging out,” Adora argues.

“I mean, just you, dummy. You smell good to me.”

Vaguely, somewhere in the back of her marshmallow-filled mind, Adora remembers that the point of this whole mission was to get more Silly Catra time. She didn’t know that Sappy Catra was even an option. Adora fumbles for her phone to take a video and only manages to let it slip and bounce under the bed.

Catra doesn’t give her an opportunity to even think about getting up. Much like she’d done earlier with the bed, Catra decides to try rolling around on top of Adora. But it tickles and the human squirms and giggles, nearly bucking the other girl off and onto the floor. Catra doesn’t even seem to mind.

It’s the best day ever.

Or it is until Adora's stomach growls.

“I’ve never been this hungry before,” she thinks aloud.

“Don’t worry,” Catra tells her, suddenly reanimated and grinning. “I have a plan.” She grabs Adora’s phone without even looking down and unlocks it.

“How do you know my code?”

“Shh.”

Catra’s typing for a bit and then turns the phone around so they both can see.

“Delivery?” Adora tries not to make a face. “I had defrosted some salmon and I’ve got quinoa.”

“It’s 420. We have to get greasy food. Your stomach demands it.”

“I thought you were going to bring snacks. Like those dried peas I like?”

Catra makes a very precious excited purr and leaps out of the bed. Scattered among the mess she left everywhere is indeed a black plastic bag that she opens to reveal a variety of treats. A bag of snap pea crisps flies towards Adora’s face.

“Ooh, mango chili lime!”

She chows down while Catra takes the rest into the kitchenette. Adora gets a bit lost in the sight of her shirtless again and is almost distracted from the gross smorgasbord that Catra lays out. Oreos, chocolate chip cookies, two kinds of chips, a bag of fun-sized Halloween candy. Pure junk.

“I want an apple,” Adora mutters around a mouth of crisps.

“This lollipop’s green apple flavored.” 

Catra unwraps a bright green sucker and pops it into her mouth. Without breaking eye contact with Adora, she laves her rough tongue around it. Then she removes it and shoves it into Adora’s mouth.

It’s sour and tangy and so fake. Adora must suddenly be a supertaster because she’s never before been able to detail so many layers of artificial flavoring.

“This is not what an apple tastes like.” The complaint comes out completely unintelligible.

Adora picks up her case for a healthier lunch while Catra removes her pants and insists that this particular restaurant is the only place that she 100% guarantees makes good delivery nachos, which is usually impossible to do correctly.

Catra tears into the snacks while they argue and Adora reluctantly does the same, just to stave off hunger for a bit longer.

When the blonde looks up next, they’re no closer to a decision and it’s been almost an entire hour.

“I’m making the salmon,” she announces.

Predictably, Catra boos.

“Actually, this is gonna sound ridiculous. But I’m full, Gray.”

Adora quickly picks through the mess on the counter and it’s all empty wrappers and bags. Also, she’s pretty full herself.

“When did we eat all this?”

“Are you implying that a dog came through and stole it while we were standing here?”

Well, no, but. “Only a very stealthy dog could do that. Like a ninja dog maybe.”

“You’re an idiot,” Catra replies with a sigh.

“We can eat a second lunch at the movie,” Adora suggests.

Catra flings herself back into bed. “I don’t wanna go anymore. It starts at 4:20 exactly and we don’t have enough time to get there early and argue about which are the perfect seats.”

It’s one of their most enjoyable shared activities, being deeply neurotic and picky together.

“We can stop by that dosa cart on the way to the park,” Catra suggests. “Now, get over here. I’ll let you put on that cartoon you love and be the little spoon.”

It’s the best offer Adora’s gotten in a good long while.

They watch cartoons for probably another hour. Well, mostly the cartoons watch them while Catra’s focuses on rubbing her fur (and her scent, it seems) all over Adora until the latter relaxes into a nap. It’s nice to take a break from worrying about grades and internships and extracurriculars, even if she doesn’t get a repeat of Catra being all adorable and silly.

As promised, when she wakes, Catra drags Adora out of bed and places a hat and sunglasses on her, already anticipating the blonde’s paranoia around looking stoned in public. She quickly dresses herself as well.

“I’m tired,” Adora whines.

“The edibles are wearing off. Here.”

Catra digs around in the bag until she comes up with a thin vape, the sleek kind that Adora’s seen people use at concerts. Perfuma always preaches about how unnatural this particular mode of pot intake is.

Adora’s a little distracted by a more pressing question, rather than whether or not this is organic.

“The whole time we were looking for a lighter, you had this? And you just forgot ??”

Catra hisses. It’s the short one she does when she’s embarrassed and unwilling to talk about it, not the longer, actually threatening one she uses to make sure that girls keep a 7-foot distance from Adora at all times.

She shoves the vape into Adora’s hands without responding. After a quick tutorial, the blonde takes a puff and proceeds to immediately try to hack out both of her lungs. She was expecting a smooth, painless experience. Instead, Adora gets searing pain and a chainsmoker’s cough.

“Sip!” Catra yells. “It’s super potent. You just need a little sip.”

She takes the vape back and demonstrates, taking a dainty little hit. Adora chugs a quarter of her gallon water bottle.

“If you steal a nice bottle of Scotch, you don’t chug it. You sip it,” Catra lectures.

Adora finally regenerates enough of her esophagus to respond.

“Why would I steal a bottle of nice Scotch?”

“Where else would you get it?” Catra asks, shaking her head.

With a giggle, Adora clarifies, “No, I mean, why would I even want that in the first place?” 

For a moment, Catra looks genuinely stumped.

Finally, she grumbles out, “I don't know. Why do you have to be so literal and ruin my metaphor?”

The whole walk, Adora idly lists off all of the other alcohols that she’d take first, while reminding Catra that she’d never actually steal in the first place because she’d be too worried about getting caught. Catra buys her three dosas just to get her to shut up.

By the time they find Perfuma and her gathering in the Whispering Woods, it’s just past dusk. It shouldn’t take more than 45 minutes to navigate across the entire woodland area, let alone find a clearing near the center; but after smoking a bit more, Catra wanted to climb all the trees and chase critters and Adora was too charmed not to join in.

When they burst into the clearing, Perfuma’s in the middle of greeting some of the two dozen other people there, most of which Adora recognizes from high school or the hippie’s drum circles. Perfuma looks pretty shocked to see them, which is fair. They’re both covered in dirt and there’s a few random branches sticking out of Catra’s already wild hair.

Oh. And Catra’s seated on her shoulders. Adora’s feet have a mind of their own but she’s pretty proud that she can hoist Catra up into the air anyway. Especially since Catra keeps testing her by making her tail tickle the blonde’s nose or leaning down to lick Adora’s ears.

Their uncontrollable giggling attracts a few glances, but for the most part, everyone’s looking very chill and just chatting and smoking. Catra harrumphs a bit when no one seems concerned that she is obviously superior to them because she’s the tallest.

“Hey,” Adora laughs up at her when a realization hits. “You finally got to feel my head between your thighs.”

Catra humors her by at least chuckling a little. But she sounds unimpressed when she says, “Yeah, Gray that’s happened a few times now. Hell, it happened twice that very same night .”

Adora doesn’t have time to reply before Perfuma glides over to them.

“Welcome, friends, to our celebration of the Waning Gibbous moon in Scorpio,” she announces. She’s wearing a thin white dress that flows well in the gentle breeze and more than a couple flower crowns.

“Aren’t you a Scorpio?” Adora asks her rider.

Instead of an answer, a tail tickles her nose again. 

“That explains a lot,” Perfuma mumbles to herself. “Catra, it’s lovely to see you again. I’m so glad you two could join us. Please make yourselves comfortable. I brought some extra blankets and mats.”

Perfuma tries to explain the celebration and what to expect but she gets frustrated pretty quickly when her two audience members refuse to stop giggling and tickling each other.

So Perfuma just waves in the general direction of the rest of the group and tells them to have fun. Adora takes it in for the first time – her friend has set up loads of tiny candles and some battery-powered twinkle lights. Maybe it’s the pot talking but she imagines that when the moon does come out, this will all look pretty majestic.

She imagines that she smiles like a complete dope.

“It’s nice to see you so relaxed, Adora,” Perfuma whispers, and then she skips away to check on some other, hopefully less annoying, people.

It takes too long to convince Catra to come down. Adora tries kneeling so that Catra’s feet have no choice but to hit the ground but she manages to fight that the whole way. The blonde ends up face-down in the dirt, laughing until Sea Hawk has to pause from setting up the fireworks display to help her.

Catra grabs a blanket and just rolls Adora over onto it, shooing Sea Hawk away. It’s only probably partially because he’s already starting to sing a song about their undying love under the moonlight.

Once they’re alone, Catra opens her backpack and makes Adora drink more water before feeding her a hidden dosa. Content that her human blanket is comfortable, Catra burrows into her side. 

Catra, of course, was lying when she said she’d wear boots, which served as a good excuse for Adora to have to carry her through the woods. She uses their current position to weave her feet down and kick off Adora’s shoes. For a few minutes, Catra just rubs their toes together and purrs.

They lay like that for a time, with only the sounds of purring, some quiet background chatter, and Perfuma’s weird music of spacey sounds and deep bass keeping them company.

Folks wave or come over to say hey, but mostly everyone leaves them to themselves, cocooned together in their little bubble.

When Sea Hawk finally sets off the fireworks, they still don’t move, even though Catra insists that he can’t be trusted and that they’re all going to be complicit in the ensuing natural disaster. Everything goes shockingly smoothly, since Perfuma manages to rein in his original vision to something much more reasonable and understated.

Judging by Catra’s weaving tail, she actually ends up enjoying all of the pretty colors as much as Adora.

It’s silly – it’s just cheap lights, woo music, and some fireworks – but the moon looks bright and beautiful and the sky is so clear that it feels magical. Everything seems amazing and Adora feels herself choke up a little as a big swell of emotion overcomes her.

She’s so happy and things are so perfect. More and more lately, it’s just been hitting Adora that her life is really made so much better by being with Catra. Yes, Catra’s weird and hard to figure out. But Catra teaches her new stuff and keeps her on her toes and genuinely cares about Adora and makes her feel seen and appreciated, in her own special Catra way. 

Adora’s going to go with the moment. She’s going to say a small thing and not put any pressure on Catra in any way.

She leans down to see Catra’s face and coincidentally, they both open their mouths at the same time.

“Hey, Catra,” Adora begins, stumbling right as the other girl says, “Gray.”

“Sorry,” the blonde tells her automatically. “You go.”

“No, you go first,” Catra insists.

Adora takes a deep breath and decides just to jump right in.

“I really like you. Um, I have for a while, I think. I’ve started to fall for you over the past couple months.” Her mouth’s dry so she pauses to swallow. Instead, a very audible gulp comes out. “I-I know you’re not really into a relationship and I hope that this doesn’t make things weird between us but. I felt like I should let you know.” 

For a few long moments, they sit in silence while Adora tries to calm her rapidly beating heart. Catra’s looking at her intensely but it’s inscrutable. She’s kinda frozen almost, and Adora is just a little bit worried that she’s broken Catra forever.

Feeling awkward, Adora nervously tries to fill the heavy silence. “What, uh, what were you going to say?”

Catra waits a bit longer before replying, her tone completely blank, “I was going to say...do you like Italian food?”

That’s….not the response Adora was expecting. What a colossal fucking mistake she’s made. Apparently pot is a gateway drug into the thrilling high of ruining her relationships.

“I-Ca...what?”

“Well, I was trying to plan the perfect 4-month anniversary date for a girl who doesn’t even know that I’m her fucking girlfriend ,” Catra rants. 

She doesn’t sound angry or annoyed or scared off, not really. But she does throw her hands up as if she’s over it, before slumping onto her back. 

“Unbelievable, Gray,” she huffs. 

“...you’re my girlfriend?”

Adora’s pretty sure she got lost somewhere. Or that she shouldn’t have taken that last hit but the person offering it was too tempting.

“Do you have other girls coming around and fucking you? Bringing you stupid soup when you’re sick? Picking you up from your classes and helping you with your papers?” Catra pauses to narrow her eyes. “That’s a real question. Because I will destroy them.”

Adora surges forward and kisses Catra, her girlfriend, deeply. She tugs the other girl fully on top of her, not caring that they’re less than 20-feet away from a group of near-strangers. Catra, hardass Catra who makes herself so soft for Adora, is her girlfriend.

“Great,” Catra replies when they pull apart. “Everyone understands how everyone else feels now.” 

“Catra,” Adora admonishes. 

“Hmm?” She’s trying very hard to come off as completely nonchalant but her claws are just starting to peak out where they’re wrapped around Adora’s waist.

“There’s nothing else you want to say?” 

Catra drops her face down to hide it in Adora’s neck, while the latter just waits. 

“Ugh, fine. I’m in love with you.” Almost unconsciously, she laps at the blonde’s neck.

“Just like that?” Adora’s voice sounds somehow both skeptical and completely breathless. 

“Haven’t embarrassed yourself enough today, Gray? Want to spend some time trying to convince me I can do better?” 

Adora can’t help but smirk. Catra just professed her godsdamn love and she’s still trying to play it cool. 

“Oh, no, I’m pretty phenomenal,” the blonde says smugly. “You like me so much. You love me.” 

It feels like there are some other questions that she should answer. And it’s infinitely easier now that Adora’s got some insight into the relationship that she somehow missed for months. 

“I love you too. And I love Italian food.”

“Cool. Cool,” Catra shrugs casually, like a total liar. “I’ll make reservations. Wear something nice.” 

“Uh, when?” 

“Gods, Gray. Obviously, April doesn’t have 31 days so May 1st. Do I have to spell everything out for you?” 

Adora glances down to give her a piece of her mind but Catra’s smiling hopefully. It looks good on her.

“Oh, of course. How silly of me. Remind me what we did for our 1-month anniversary?” the blonde asks.

“I let you go down on me in the library.” 

Oh. That was a very special day. Adora was pulling an all-nighter on a project and Catra booked her one of the library’s private rooms so she could focus. Much to Adora’s surprise, Catra then decided to stay all night as well. She built a nest out of their sweaters and coats and curled up next to the blonde’s feet. She was down there looking so cute that it was too enticing not to join her for a few minutes. Things escalated quickly . 

“And the second?”

Catra sighs. “We went to that art show.”  

“That was fun,” Adora replies with a laugh. “You hated it.” 

“It had no artistic merit. And no point !” 

One of Adora’s teammates was in the show. She offered to go to support, not really meaning it but Catra found the flyer and thought it could be an interesting outing. She was very, very wrong. But it gave them a cute excuse to dress up a little and pretend to be fancy. 

Adora thinks for a moment. What had they done a couple weeks ago? 

“For our 3-month, I took you to that Szechuan place.” 

Catra had requested if Adora could make plans for the 31st. She didn't get why that date in particular was important but was so happy to be asked, that she easily obliged. Adora ordered all of her food way too hot and Catra laughed for several minutes before kindly swapping their plates.

“So I'll pick something for the odd months and you can handle the even months,” Adora decides. 

“We don't have to do something each time,” Catra replies, suddenly bashful. She looks down, ears lowering. “It's kinda silly, celebrating every month. Right? I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I don’t know.”

“I’m your first girlfriend?!” 

Catra scrunches her face.

“Why is that shocking?” she asks.

“I don’t know. I always feel like you have so much more experience than me.” 

Adora realizes that could be taken many different ways and waits with dread for Catra to respond. 

“I know. I project a lot of confidence. It’s a gift and a curse.” She heaves a huge sigh, like she’s carrying so much weight on her shoulders from her stubborn insistence to always act as if she’s the smartest person in the room. “Where’d you get that dumb idea that I didn’t want a relationship?”

The blonde tries to come up with an easy answer. It was...just kinda everything, maybe? And nothing. Well, mostly that Catra never said anything. But neither did Adora. And she didn’t really ever stop to think about or add up many of the sweet little things that Catra did for her.

“Um...in hindsight, probably from my own head?”

“For a brilliant person, you have the dumbest thoughts sometimes.”

Adora just laughs.

Okay, Adora has a new plan for how they’ll be good girlfriends. More talking. No more taking small gestures for granted. 

“Yeah, I know. Thank you for everything today.”

“It fell apart immediately,” Catra argues, rolling her eyes. She’s probably annoyed with herself. Catra secretly takes solid preparation even more seriously than Adora does.

“It was thoughtful and sweet.” The blonde leans down and kisses a fuzzy ear.

Catra hides her face again, her tail coming alive behind her.

“Anything for my girlfriend,” she mumbles.

Back in Adora’s dorm later that night, Catra suggests they smoke just a little more. It’s been a long, surprisingly emotional but wholly unbelievable day, and Adora would agree to just about anything. For her girlfriend . Still not over that yet.

Adora pops into the bathroom to clean off a bit of the dirt from the woods and when she comes out, she finds Catra stripped down to her underwear and sprawled out in the bed.

Catra’s purring on her back, squirming around into the mattress, and lazily lifting her hands and feet into the air. Adora doesn’t take a picture this time, just content to stand there and watch her girlfriend enjoy herself.

If Adora maybe goes and finds some string to tease Catra with for a while, though, who could blame her?