Chapter Text
Lena doesn’t see Kara drunk for a very long time after that night.
(“That night” is how Kara refers to the night she drunkenly stumbled through Lena’s balcony door to apologize, beg for forgiveness, and confess her love. Her forehead always crinkles and her eyes are always sad as she remembers just how hurt and angry Lena had been and how she had been the cause.)
(The forehead crinkles never last long, though. Not when Lena makes it her sole mission to obliterate them through gentle touches, reassuring words, and soft kisses.)
But in the three-and-a-half years that follow that night, Kara rarely drinks.
And when she finally does again, it’s for a much better reason.
Lena’s stepped away from the festivities to get some fresh air, and to avoid the karaoke portion of the evening. She’s standing at the balcony, bare forearms resting against the metal railing as she enjoys the cool breeze against her flushed skin, when the door at her back slides open.
The sounds from the party behind her flow out, joyful and bright, piercing Lena’s private bubble and drawing a wide, involuntary smile to her face. And it’s not because she knows the song that’s currently being massacred by the enthusiastic crowd—she’s never heard it before in her life. It’s more that she finds herself thinking that as memorable as the entire night has been up until this point, this is perhaps the real moment for the history books—the one and only time Lena Luthor has ever derived any joy from the sound of drunken karaoke.
The lyrics to the upbeat pop song wind around her, bellowed into the night in at least a dozen clashing keys, but even the astonishing lack of pitch doesn’t bother her. Not tonight.
Nothing could bother her tonight.
The smile on her face grows wider as she lets the reality of this moment settle into her bones.
All of these people—all of these people that Lena loves and cares about—are here for them.
They’re here to celebrate a day Lena never dreamt would happen, and to share in a tiny piece of the joy that fills her heart to the brim on a daily basis. They’re here to celebrate a love that Lena never would have imagined possible all those years ago on that night, but now that it’s here—beautiful and real and hers—she can’t ever fathom living without it.
The music swells and the voices behind her grow even more animated, but before Lena can even try to pick out the words to the song, the door closes, muffling the sound once more and leaving only the gentle thump of the bass beat and the soft click of heels.
The heels come to a pause behind her, and then, warm, strong arms circle around her stomach.
“Found you.”
Kara’s voice is soft in Lena’s ear, her words gentle and her breath smelling faintly of the Listerine she always swigs after she imbibes in alien liquor, and Lena leans back into the familiar embrace, breathing in the mingling smells of mint and vanilla scented skin. “You did,” she replies, brushing her thumb over the hand beneath hers as Kara busies herself with dropping warm, lazy kisses down Lena’s neck.
Which, Listerine aside, that’s another reason Lena knows Kara’s probably tipsy—she’s normally very private about their displays of affection. Anything more than holding hands or a peck on the lips is enough to make her adorably flustered if they happen to be in public (or god forbid, in front of Alex).
But right now, she seems perfectly content to press herself as close to Lena’s backside as she can and put on a show for any partygoers who happen to be looking out the window.
“So,” Kara murmurs, her lips caressing over every inch of bare skin she can find as her thumbs sweep the undersides of Lena’s breasts, sending tingles down her spine. “On a scale from one to ten, how worried should I be right now?”
Lena, who has very much been enjoying Kara’s public display of affection, pulls away just enough to twist around and meet her eyes. “Worried? About what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kara says, kissing Lena’s temple. “I mean, it’s not usually a great sign when the bride has to escape her own wedding reception…”
“I’m not escaping,” Lena says with a laugh, twisting back around and letting her index finger brush over the new ring adorning Kara’s left hand. The ring she had put there. She takes a moment to savor the feeling of cool metal beneath her touch as she remembers the vows she had made—first in English, then in clumsy but heartfelt Kryptonian that had made Kara’s eyes shine with tears—before she speaks again. “I just wanted to…I don’t know,” she murmurs, leaning her head back against Kara’s shoulder as she stares up at stars. “Let it all sink in, I suppose. To take a moment to just commit this all to memory and to just…breathe. I never want to forget this night. I want to remember every second of it, for the rest of my life.” She’s quiet for a moment, then, she cranes her head around and catches Kara’s eyes once more. “That, and I’m not sure how many more drunken Backstreet Boys covers I can possibly sit through.”
Immediately, Kara laughs. “That’s not fair! There’s only been one so far!”
“Then I suppose one is my limit.”
Kara shakes her head in mock-exasperation, but when she looks at Lena, her eyes are shining. “You know, normally, I’d be offended. But I guess when it comes to you…I don’t know, it’s like…I don’t care who you are…where you’re from…what you did…as long as you love me.”
In any other situation, Lena would find herself touched by the sentimental words. But over the course of her seemingly-heartfelt proclamation, Kara’s look has shifted from one of soft devotion to something that Lena can only describe as gleefully and unbearably smug.
“I’m assuming from…all of this,” Lena sighs, gesturing vaguely at Kara’s self-assured face, “that you’re quoting some Backstreet Boy song I’ve never heard of?”
The overly-pleased look immediately falls away.
“No,” Kara gasps, looking genuinely distraught. “No, Lena, you…you don’t know As Long As You Love Me?”
“It’s like you don’t even know who you married,” Lena chuckles, turning away to gaze out at the lights of the city while Kara splutters behind her.
“No, I do! But this is…I mean, it’s a classic! Didn’t you ever listen to the radio—”
“Three-and-a-half years, we’ve been together—”
“—or go to a mall? I mean—”
“—seven-and-a-half years she’s known me—”
“—it played everywhere! You have to know it!”
“—and somehow, she’s still surprised—”
“—I’ll sing it for you, you’ll know it then—”
They go back and forth, talking over each other and only breaking when Kara, trying valiantly to sing the chorus to the song, dissolves into helpless giggles over Lena’s loud lyrical criticisms.
“What you did, I mean, what does that even mean? That sounds criminal. Is it criminal?”
“No! It’s not—”
“I don’t care what you did? Tell me that’s not suspicious. I mean, is the person in the song a serial killer? Because that’s something most people should probably care about.”
“Lena!” Kara laughs, nuzzling her face against the soft skin of Lena’s neck. “It’s just supposed to be romantic! It’s not a song about a serial killer.”
“How do you know? Has anyone ever asked the songwriter? If you don’t know the artist’s intentions, then it could very well be a song about a serial killer.”
Lena waits patiently, expecting Kara to continue defending the song, but instead, all she’s treated to is a quiet huff, followed by a long, lingering kiss against her pulse point.
Her skin warms under Kara’s soft lips and she smirks, knowing she’s pulled it off. Now, every time Kara hears the song in question, she’ll find herself thinking about serial killers. It’s a ridiculous victory, but before she can fully bask in it, Kara lifts her head and stares at Lena, her eyes shining and her face, bright and beautiful.
“Rao, I love you.”
Kara slides her hands down the lace bodice of Lena’s dress to grip at her hips and gently turn her around. Once she’s facing Kara, Lena takes a step closer, settling her hands on the blazer-clad shoulders before her and angling her head just so, her heartbeat quickening when blue eyes flick down to watch her lips.
“Yeah?” Lena breathes, scratching her nails at the nape of Kara’s neck.
Kara shivers. She pulls Lena closer, pressing their hips together.
“Yeah,” she whispers, a slow smile stealing to her face.
Then, she kisses her.
And it’s perfect.
It’s unhurried and gentle, nothing more than a series of soft presses and pulls, but it still vibrates through Lena’s body in a way that leaves her feeling breathless and wanting and so, so loved.
The feeling surges through her body, pushing her hands up to tangle in long, blonde hair and encouraging her to gently suck on Kara’s full lower lip.
It’s a good decision.
Lena’s immediately rewarded with a murmur of pleasure that emanates from deep inside Kara’s chest and a warm, steady hand that boldly wanders down Lena’s hip to trace along the prominent slit running up her dress.
Fingertips move from fabric to skin, and Lena shivers as she reciprocates Kara’s words of love, breathing them like a prayer against her mouth.
“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
She feels Kara’s lips tick up against hers, and as strong fingers brush gently against the bare skin of Lena’s thigh, running up and down and tracing lazy patterns that make Lena tingle from her head down to her toes, she makes a mental note to send Sam a bouquet.
After all, she had been the one to suggest trying on a dress with a thigh slit. “Easy access,” she had said with a wink. “In case you can’t wait for the honeymoon.”
Lena had rolled her eyes at the time, but now, with Kara’s fingers brushing dangerously close to the inside of her thigh, she’s glad she listened.
Forget the bouquet, she thinks with a shiver of pleasure.
She’ll buy Sam a flower shop.
They kiss for a long minute more, hands gently brushing bare skin and lips never parting for long, and Lena thinks that she’d be content to stay on this balcony and continue doing this for the rest of the night. But eventually, their kisses slow down and their hands settle, and Lena tilts her forehead against Kara’s to catch her breath.
She opens her eyes to find blue, sparkling eyes, already watching her.
“Hey,” Kara whispers, her thumbs rubbing circles into Lena’s hips.
“Hey, yourself,” Lena murmurs back.
She lifts a hand and tucks a wayward strand of blonde hair behind Kara’s ear, then lets her fingers drop down to trace along her soft jaw. Her touch is slow and almost reverent, much like it was the first time she had ever let her greedy hands thoroughly explore Kara’s gorgeous body. And even though she’s mapped out every inch of Kara’s skin by this point, with a meticulousness that would put even the world’s finest cartographers to shame, there are still moments where Lena can’t quite believe that she’s allowed to touch Kara like this. Sometimes, she feels like the honor should go to someone else. Because even with all she’s accomplished, at the end of the day, Lena is still just a human.
And Kara?
Kara deserves to be worshipped by Aphrodite herself.
But then again, Aphrodite isn’t wearing Kara’s ring.
Lena is.
And so, she indulges herself, savoring the heat radiating from Kara’s sun-drenched skin, recommitting the soft lines at the corners of Kara’s mouth to memory, and luxuriating in the way she shivers when Lena scratches her nails just underneath Kara’s ear. She lets herself touch every inch of Kara that she can in a way that will still be acceptable to future-sober Kara’s sense of propriety, and once she’s had her fill, her eyes flick up to meet Kara’s.
Almost immediately, her breath leave her in a rush.
But really, how could she possibly be expected to breathe when Kara’s giving her that look? That wonderful, incredible, indescribable look that lights up her whole face and makes her eyes shine like sapphires? That look that makes Lena feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Like Aphrodite couldn’t hold a candle to her.
It’s soft and adoring and full of so much love, and it’s Lena’s absolute favorite look because it’s a look that she’s only ever seen Kara direct at her.
…Okay, and one time at an order of potstickers, but even then, Lena’s pretty sure it hadn’t been quite as arduous.
“We got married,” Kara whispers, leaning forward until her forehead is pressed against Lena’s once more.
“We did.”
“I mean…we got married,” Kara repeats with a disbelieving laugh. “We just…we…”
Kara trails off and then, without any warning, she tilts her head and captures Lena’s lips once more in a kiss that’s long and slow and just deep enough that Lena wants to call off the whole reception, drag Kara back to the fancy hotel suite she had rented for the night, bury her head between strong thighs, and start the honeymoon in earnest.
Their lips and tongues move languidly, and when Kara finally pulls away after another long, perfect minute, there’s a rosy flush on her cheeks and a brilliant smile lighting up her face.
“Hey,” she murmurs, brushing her lips against Lena’s once more. “Guess what I was just doing?”
Lena blinks uncertainly, the question taking her kiss-addled mind by surprise. She casts her thoughts back, trying to remember what was going on in the room behind her before she had taken her leave on the balcony. “Trying to get Alex to start a conga line?” she eventually guesses, remembering Alex’s stony face, folded arms, and hard eyes as she refused to give into Kara’s pleas.
“What? No, I…” Kara tapers off, then shrugs. “Okay, yes. I was definitely doing that. But you went back too far. Try again.”
When Lena shrugs helplessly, Kara grins and leans in close. “I was kissing my wife.”
The word falls from Kara’s lips, sounding sweeter than anything Lena’s ever heard before, and she has to bite at her own lower lip to try and contain her smile.
(She of course, fails to do so.)
“Were you, now?”
“Mmhm,” Kara says. “And it’s actually kind of a miracle I’m even talking to you right now. Because all I want to keep doing is this.”
Maybe they’ll never make it back to the reception, Lena thinks, because once again, Kara’s leaning in to kiss her. She sucks on a lower lip, her teeth nipping at it, and Lena thinks that if she wasn’t so concerned about future-sober Kara and her damned sense of propriety, she could probably forget about the hotel room entirely and get her to go all the way on this balcony.
But then Kara’s kissing her again, tilting her head and deepening their connection, and Lena forgets to think. The taste of Listerine is stronger now as Kara’s tongue swipes indulgently against hers, and when strong hips press forward with a hungry purpose, Lena can’t contain the quiet whimper that tumbles from mouth.
Lips turn up against hers as superhearing picks up the soft sound. “You know, I could fly us to the hotel room and back right now,” Kara murmurs against Lena’s lips, kissing her once, twice, three times more. “No one would even notice we’re gone.”
Lena’s answering chuckle turns into a quiet gasp when Kara drops her head to scrape her teeth down Lena’s neck. “I want to,” Lena manages, trying to remember how to form words as Kara's hips rock against hers. “God, I want to,” she adds, her body burning when Kara sucks hard at her pulse point, leaving a mark that she’s sure Nia will tease them about once they go back inside. “But I think people might notice if both brides disappear from their own wedding,” she finishes, her words coming out in one breathless rush.
Damn future-sober Kara. Damn propriety.
Kara hesitates, then sighs against Lena’s neck. “You’re right,” she murmurs. She takes a moment to collect herself, drops a kiss to the skin before her, then adds, “Rao, Alex would probably think we had been kidnapped and burst into the hotel room with half the D.E.O. behind her.” She shivers a little at what’s presumably an awful mental image, then pulls back and aims a bashful little smile at Lena. “Can’t blame me for trying though,” she says, her thumbs sweeping across Lena’s cheeks and her eyes sparkling brighter than any of the city lights burning below. “I mean…Rao, Lena. Look at you. You’re so beautiful. And the way you looked walking down the aisle…” Kara trails off and shakes her head. “Alex had to remind me to breathe like…twelve times.”
Lena grins down at her feet as she fidgets with the lapels of Kara’s fitted suit. “Then you’re in good company,” she says smoothing one side down as she looks up at Kara. “Because when I saw you, I almost forgot how to walk.”
The confession pulls a dazzling grin from Kara. “Yeah?”
Lena hums in acknowledgment, but before she can say anything more, there’s a particularly loud cheer from the room behind them, loud enough to distract both Kara and Lena and to remind them that yes, technically, they’re the guests of honor at this party.
Kara glances over her shoulder, then turns back to Lena with sheepish eyes. “We should probably get back inside.”
Lena nods. “You’re right.” She traces a slow finger down Kara’s chest, smirking at the soft inhalation she’s rewarded with. “But not just yet,” she says, letting her fingertips idly trace up and down Kara’s chest. “There’s still one more thing I want to do with you out here.”
“Oh yeah?” Kara murmurs, her eyes growing heavy under Lena’s gentle touches. “What’s that?”
“I want to dance with you.”
“You…” Kara blinks as the words register, then pulls back a little with a small, confused frown. “You want to…dance with me?” She glances over her shoulder at the bustling dance floor inside, then turns back to Lena. “Out here?”
“Out here,” Lena confirms, straightening Kara’s jacket. “I asked the DJ for a special request and I want it to be just the two of us.” She steals one more quick kiss from Kara, then steps backwards toward the door. “Stay right here?”
“I…” Kara shakes her head a little, looking surprised at the direction their conversation has taken. “Okay? Yeah, no, I’ll just…I’ll be…here,” she says, spreading her arms and glancing around the dimly lit balcony with a little shrug.
Lena smiles at her, then heads for the door. But before she can pull it open, Kara clears her throat. “Hey, babe?”
Lena turns. “Hm?”
“What song did you request?”
“You’ll see,” Lena says, flashing a wicked grin.
“It’s a Backstreet Boys song, isn’t it?”
Lena laughs as she pulls open the door and takes a step back into the warm room. “Absolutely not,” she says, raising her voice to be heard over the thumping music. “There will be no songs about serial killers at our wedding.”
“It’s not about a—”
“Though you do have the right genre.”
Lena tacks on the comment with a breezy indifference, and the last thing she sees before she turns away is the bewildered look on Kara’s face. But all in all, it’s warranted. In all the years they’ve known each other, Lena’s never really been one for pop music. She usually just puts up with it because Kara enjoys it.
But this song…this song is something special to her.
Quickly, Lena makes her way across the gleaming, polished dance floor and toward the DJ, all while receiving words of congratulations from the people she passes. Once she’s picked her way through the throng of well-wishers, she waves a hand to catch the DJ’s attention, then nods once.
Understanding her signal, the DJ flashes her a quick thumbs up and turns to his equipment, and Lena, satisfied that her mission is accomplished, hurries back toward the balcony before anyone can stop her and offer more kind words or pull her into small-talk about the hors d’oeuvres.
Though that small talk would be warranted—the hors d’oeuvres are both spectacular and plentiful enough to feed a small country, as is befitting of any wedding in which Kara Danvers is a bride.
She slides the balcony door open once more and steps back out into the cool air, but this time, she doesn’t close it fully behind her. After all, they need to be able to hear the song she’s picked out.
As she crosses the short distance back to Kara, she notices the wariness lingering in her eyes.
“Okay…so is this actually going to be a pop song, or did you just slip the DJ a twenty to play Nessun Dorma?”
Lena laughs. “It’s actually going to be a pop song. But the night is still young,” she adds with a wink. “Plenty of time for Puccini.”
“Lena,” Kara says seriously. “I love you more than life itself, but please, please don’t play Puccini at our wedding.”
“Why not? Would it be grounds for an annulment?”
“No, but—”
Before Kara can finish her thought, the current song fades out and is replaced with the familiar beat of Lena’s requested song. It thumps through the room behind them, and as expected, it only takes a moment for Kara to place it.
“Is this…Tiffany?” Kara asks, turning to Lena with wide eyes.
“It is,” Lena says as the song starts in earnest. She drapes her arms over Kara’s shoulders and says, “It just so happens to be one of my favorites.”
“It is?”
“Mm. Don’t you remember the first time I heard it? You should,” Lena teases. “You were there, after all.”
Kara bites her lip in concentration as she loops her arms around Lena’s back, gently pulling her closer and swaying them in time with the music. A long moment goes by in which Kara’s brow adorably furrows in careful thought, but then, she looks up with wide eyes. “The first night I slept over at your place. I sang it at karaoke and when I came over…”
“You sang it to me in bed,” Lena murmurs, thinking back on the moment in question fondly.
“You remember that?”
“I do. I remember everything about that night. I mean, I had already suspected that I was in love with you before then, but everything about that night…” She trails off and shakes her head. “It solidified it.”
“Huh,” Kara says, her eyes soft but sparkling with humor. “You know,” she murmurs, leaning in close, like she’s about to divulge a secret, “all I’m hearing is that me being super drunk and shoving twelve Oreos into my mouth at the same time really works for you.” Lena laughs despite herself, and Kara grins at her, then nods her head back toward the bar inside. “Should I do a couple more shots? Or maybe make a quick trip to Safeway for some Double Stuf and really spice up our wedding night?” Kara rocks her hips against Lena’s, bites her lip suggestively, and wiggles her eyebrows. “Give a whole new meaning to the big O?”
“Oh my god,” Lena laughs, swatting playfully at Kara’s still rocking hips. “Absolutely not. There will be no Oreos allowed on our wedding night,” she proclaims, “mostly because I don’t trust that you’d pick me over them.” When Kara scoffs, Lena adds, “and anyway, even thought you are an adorable drunk, that wasn’t it. It was just…” She sighs, then says, “that night was the first time I let myself fully imagine what being with you would look like. Actually being with you. Before then, I had always pushed the thoughts from my mind or reminded myself that you’d only ever see me as your best friend, but that night…with you holding me…I don’t know,” Lena murmurs, her eyes far away as the memory unfurls. “I guess I let myself believe in a world where you’d actually choose me.”
“Hey,” Kara whispers, pulling Lena back to the present. She presses their foreheads together as she gently strokes the small of Lena’s back. “I do choose you,” she murmurs, her words caressing Lena’s heart and filling it to the brim with a potent, beautiful warmth. “I choose you every time. In this world and every other. I love you.” She brushes her lips against Lena’s, then wryly adds, “and I’d even choose you over Oreos, which is really saying something.”
“And they say romance is dead,” Lena jokes, but with her face still burning from Kara’s simple, beautiful declaration. “You know, you should have worked that into your vows.”
“Missed opportunity,” Kara grins, brushing a finger down Lena’s cheek. “But…Oreos aside, I should’ve realized it that night, too. I mean, I really didn’t want to go home with Mon-El,” she adds with a small grimace. “If that wasn’t a clear sign, what was?”
“You know, if memory serves, you compared sharing a bed with him to being with a trumpet-playing swamp monster.”
“I did?” Kara asks, a pretty flush rising to her cheeks to match the one on Lena’s. “I mean, it’s accurate, but I don’t remember saying that.”
“Well, I do. After all, we both had to find ways to cope with our jealousy,” Lena says, feeling her easy smile turn into a little smirk of victory. “You incinerated James’s phone, I catalogued every negative thing you ever said about Mike Matthews.”
“Your way sounds way cheaper than mine.”
“Probably. But far less cathartic.”
Kara smiles, but as she pulls Lena in a little closer, a thoughtful expression comes to her face. “You know, that whole night is a little foggy, but I’m pretty sure I spent the entire time I was at the bar with Mon-El either talking about you or texting you.”
Lena already knows this and still remembers the thirty-nine messages that had been waiting on her phone all those years ago with crystal clarity—still has the screenshots lurking deep in her camera roll—but she still pretends to look surprised. “You did?”
“Yeah,” Kara says, running her hands up Lena’s back. “I didn’t even notice it back then, but I wasn’t subtle. I think he knew exactly what was going on.”
“Really,” Lena asks in a suspicious dead-pan. “Mon-El?”
“I mean, I’m not positive,” Kara clarifies. “But when we broke up, he said it was for the best, and that he was never the person I really wanted, anyway. And at the time, I thought he just meant that I was waiting for like…some nameless, faceless future person that would be right for me. But now…now I don’t think that’s what he meant at all. I think he saw how into you I was before I even realized it. I think he was talking about you.”
Lena snorts. “I’m sorry. Are you really telling me that the same man who came up with Mike of the interns figured out your feelings before you?”
“Yeah?” Kara winces, then says, “but hey, at least I eventually got there.”
“That you did,” Lena murmurs, taking a moment to look beyond Kara into the crowded room behind her with starry eyes. “And now we’re here. Together.”
“Together,” Kara murmurs. She leans in and catches Lena’s lips, then softly adds, “El Mayarah.”
“El Mayarah.”
With the shared declaration hovering in the air between them, they fall into a comfortable silence, moving to the music that floats through the open door as they hold each other close. And with Kara in her arms and their chosen family and friends here to celebrate them, Lena takes a moment to think about everything that’s led them to this exact moment.
She thinks about the hard-fought past behind them that strengthens them every day and pushes them both to be better listeners and open, honest communicators.
She thinks about the wide-open future that lies ahead of them, ripe for the taking and full of hundreds and thousands of perfect, soon-to-be cherished memories still to come.
She thinks that everything they’ve been through together—the sleepless nights and the drunken confessions and yes, even that night—all of it was worth it to get to this night.
She thinks that she’s never been happier than she is in this moment.
They sway together on the balcony, turning the sugary, uptempo pop song into a slow dance meant just for them, and when Kara lays her head against Lena’s shoulder and sings along quietly to the lyrics of the song that had so long ago captured Lena’s heart, Lena feels a perfect, beautiful peace settle over her body.
Soft lips brush against Lena’s neck as Kara sings.
“I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around…”
The simple words wrap around her and Lena closes her eyes, taking a beat to imprint this moment on her soul for the rest of time. She pushes it deep into her bones and carves it into every last one of her atoms so that one day, when she’s nothing more than star dust returned to the sky, this moment will echo throughout the cosmos, scattering far and wide and filling even the darkest pockets of the universe with light, love, and the improbable tale of two hearts that were always meant to be together.
“I think we’re alone now, the beating of our hearts is the only sound…”
It’s true, Lena thinks. Because even here, in the heart of an always-bustling big city, with a warm, crowded room full of people she loves just a stone’s throw away, Lena only has eyes for Kara.
For a moment, they’re the only two people in the entire world, and everything about this night—from the stars blazing in the sky to the gentle, warm breeze weaving around Lena’s dress like a curious cat—belongs to them. Nothing can interrupt the perfect world they’ve created together. It’s just Lena, Kara, and the beating of the hearts that they’ve promised to each other, for better or for worse, to love and to cherish, for as long as they both may live.
And with Kara’s voice in her ear, Kara’s hands on her body, and Kara’s ring on her finger, Lena knows that she wouldn’t have it any other way.
All she needs in this lifetime is right here in front of her.
Luckily, she doesn’t need to rely on frantic midnight Google searches or outdated CatCo articles to tell her what that means.
She loves Kara.
She loves her, she loves her, she—
“I love you,” Lena breathes, the words spilling forth involuntarily, brought on by the emotions coursing through her. They’re not enough, they don’t even come close to conveying everything Lena’s feeling at this very moment and everything she feels for Kara on a daily basis, but they’ll have to do.
Kara lifts her head from where it’s been resting and meets Lena’s eyes. “I love you, too,” she murmurs, accompanying the words with a dazzling smile. She bestows a soft, warm kiss on Lena’s lips, but before Lena can open her mouth and kiss her back in earnest, Kara’s pulling away, her head cocked to the side and her eyebrows scrunched together. “Hey…is this our song?”
Lena ponders the surprising question as the song starts to wind down, then shrugs. “It’s either this or Nessun Dorma.”
“This,” Kara says immediately, looking panicked. “I vote this.”
“Well, that’s one vote for Tiffany, one for Puccini.”
“Lena,” Kara whines, drawing out the last syllable for effect.
“I suppose we’ll just have to think of a good tie-breaker.”
“Rao,” Kara groans, burying her head against Lena’s neck. “I can’t believe I married you,” she mumbles, her words warm against Lena’s cool skin.
Lena tilts her head back and smiles up at the vast universe watching over them. “No,” she murmurs, thinking about the essentially-zero percent chance that two people born at different times on different planets had somehow managed to not only find each other in this sea of infinite galaxies, but had managed to complete each other. “Neither can I.”
The song fades out behind them, replaced by yet another pop song Lena’s never heard before. Kara lingers in Lena’s embrace, but when she lifts her head and takes a reluctant step back, Lena knows that this perfect, precious moment has finally come to an end.
It doesn’t bother her, though. Not really. Not when she has a lifetime of memories waiting to be created.
Not when she has Kara by her side, making every day, from the big, special ones, to the inconsequential lazy ones, something to remember.
“I wish we could stay out here all night,” Kara says, looking around the balcony with a wistful expression, like she too has just realized this moment is soon to be relegated to memory status and wants to hold onto it for just a bit longer.
“Me too,” Lena replies. “But we should probably make at least one more appearance at our own wedding,” she adds in a teasing tone, thinking of all the memories they still need to create with their friends and family back inside the room.
“You’re right,” Kara says, tearing her eyes away from their private sanctuary. She runs her fingers down Lena’s arms and tangles their hands together. “Gotta give the people what they came for. And I’ve got a conga line to start and I still need to convince Alex to lead it, so…”
Lena laughs, then squeezes Kara’s hands. “Well, if anyone can get Alex Danvers to lead a conga line, it’s you.”
Kara beams at her, steals one more quick kiss, then starts tugging her back toward the open door with renewed enthusiasm.
Lena follows her wife back into the warm room and allows herself a tiny, private, silly little grin over the words as they settle in her mind.
Her wife.
She never thought she could love the sound of two words more.
As they make their way across the crowded floor, the words unleash something in her mind, and Lena finds her thoughts turning back to all those long nights she had spent lying in bed, imagining a future with Kara. It had always felt so unattainable, like something out of a particularly lovely dream that you never want to wake up from. And even in all her imaginings, Lena had never even brave enough to imagine something like this. To imagine Kara as her wife.
(Her wife, her wife, her wife.)
But now that it’s here, now that it’s real and vibrant and being celebrated by their friends and family (and a very wary looking Alex, already shaking her head as Kara makes a beeline straight toward her), Lena realizes something.
She could have spent hours dreaming of a future with Kara, could have even quit her job and dedicated herself to the cause full time. But even then, she never would have gotten it right.
She wouldn’t have even come close.
Because this?
This is better than anything she could ever have dreamt up. This reality is as close to perfect as she could have hoped for. It’s more than she ever would have imagined for herself.
This—her and Kara, together forever—is something no amount of dreaming could ever improve upon.
And to think, it’s all because Kara got drunk at karaoke three-and-a-half years ago.
Lena smiles.
Maybe karaoke isn’t so bad after all.