Chapter Text
Waking up to a smell of coffee, made by her unexpected-but-welcome-as-hell-hot-boyfriend, was her favorite way of waking up on Sundays.
You could have asked, why was it not waking up to the smell of pancakes or bacon, but Kara had an answer to that: the smell of pancakes and bacon meant the breakfast was already prepared.
And Kara was a simple girl and she loved watching her boyfriend making food. Yep, totally only that.
J’onn, if he had been able to read Kryptonian’s minds, would have coughed awkwardly and said something about her little obsession about watching someone’s backside.
Uhm, where was she…?
Kara loved watching the WHOLE Mon-El, wearing his yellow “Kiss the cook” apron she’d bought for him some time ago.
The way he was giving his full attention to the ingredients that were always organized on saucers and containers like a little army, ready to be thrown into a pot. Focusing with furrowed brows on the vegetables, cutting identical slices and dices, like he’s been using a ruler. His natural, gracious moves around the kitchen, when, without even looking, grabbed cookware, seasoning or coconut oil. His quiet, happy hummings of Daxamite songs, if the dishes he was preparing looked perfectly, like on pics from food and cooking blogs. The way he exposed his back and swayed his hips while stirring in the pot - she was almost sure he was smirking while doing it, totally aware that she was drooling on the table.
(Did you hear that? That was J’onn coughing in the distance).
Mon-El from Daxam absolutely owned her kitchen in his calm, not invasive and relaxed way, like he was born to become a chef and she was incredibly grateful for that.
Sometimes, she wondered what kind of a man he would have become, if he had been born on a different planet, in a different family.
But did it really matter?
No, this Mon-El was the man for her , the one that Rao has sent to Kara Zor El, like a Space Sleeping Beauty (and hey!, she had a cape and she could totally fit the Prince Charming’s shoes!). Kara wanted him , no one else. Her intimidating, happy go lucky, funny, incredibly skilled in a kitchen and in a bed boyfriend…
Uhm, where was she…?
Lying on her side, Kara slowly opened her eyes.
He was sitting beside her, resting his (glorious) back on the wall, with Lord of The Rings on his lap and a mug in his hand (with a cute labrador puppy printed on it - another gift from her, did she mention that she loved buying him stuff? No?) filled with (Kara sniffed the air) green tea.
Yuck .
Kara grimaced, remembering that one dreadful morning, when he showed his mug into her sleepy hand and cheerfully informed her it was something much, much better than coffee.
Without thinking she took a sip, expecting hot chocolate. When the horrible, bitter green poison hit her taste buds she spat it right back into his mug.
That was the first time in their short but very active relationship, when Mon-El was not amused by her actions. Not. At. All.
But well, for sure it woken her up better than coffee...
The second time when he became fully offended, was during their first cooking-dates. Right after she threw a tomato at him.
The red vegetable splashed on his shirt (oops, the super strength). Mon-El blinked, looked at the stain, slowly raised his head and pierced her with a very disappointed and offended gaze. And then he explained with a cold voice that she wasted a perfectly ripped certified organic tomato from the best plantation in California. And explained in detail how wasting food and natural resources was bad for the environment and as a Krypotnian - she should have known that.
Kara felt like being lectured by a biology professor from her high school. In the end she humbly promised she was not going to waste more food in the future. And she really meant it.
Too bad they BOTH wasted some food during another date when-
Uhm, where was she...?
“How’re the hobbits?” she rubbed her eyes and yawned loudly.
“When I think about it, they remind me of you.” He said seriously.
Kara stopped yawning in the middle and looked at him with furrowed brows.
“You mean I have hairy, smelly big feet and I’m a glutton?” She felt her brows slowly rising and almost meeting her hairline.
“What?” he blinked and looked at her confusedly. “No! Like them, you appreciate good meal! Your feet are perfect! And-” he started frantically praising her body parts and Kara just had to smile.
She leaned into Mon-El and kissed him slowly and sweetly.
The tea in his mug swayed dangerously.
“Oops, we don’t want to kill the mood and waste the tea, hmm?” she mumbled, took the mug from his hand and placed it on a bedside table.
“Mhmmm?” he asked totally dazed, chasing her lips.
With a Kryptonian satisfaction she proudly noticed a small hill that appeared near the area of his covered with blanket hips.
Ha! She, Kara Zor El the prudish Kryptonian, did this!
“Mhmmm?” again, Mon-El mumbled very intelligently.
“Remember the pizza?” she said and smirked when his eyes widened.
Yep. The pizza .
The other time when they decided to combine a date with preparing homemade food. The problem was, that they were both a little more interested in each other than in the most famous Italian dish. Somehow, they managed to put it into the oven and then, rather quickly, they moved to the bedroom.
And when Kara was so, SO close to uhm, you know exactly to what , suddenly Mon-El lifted his head from between her legs, sniffed the air, his eyes widening like saucers as he squeeked, “PIZZA!” and ran to the kitchen with superspeed, almost tripping on his pants that were lying tangled on the floor.
Leaving behind a sweaty Kara, with slightly raised hips and her mouth wide open.
Did she feel offended? As hell! But then he started panicking rather loudly in the kitchen:
“Oh, my fucking Rao! Kara, cheese almost got burnt and it’s crispy! And nooooooo, tomatoes! My precious Californian tomatoes! GRIFE!”
Kara had started laughing so hard that she finally fell from the bed.
“But we are not preparing food?” he said lowly, with that special Mon-Elish glint in his gray eyes that promised her something amazing.
Her stomach has had some different plans, tho.
They both blinked when it grumbled rather loudly.
“Are you sure you don’t have a lion there?” Mon-El asked seriously, looking at her stomach, hidden under one of his t-shirts she loved to wear to sleep.
“Yes, and it’s hungry for pancakes,” she said sweetly. “You better feed it or...”
“Or what?”
“Or it will make you sleep on the couch?”
“Sometimes, I think you keep me here only because I cook for you,” he pouted.
“And for sex. Let’s not forget about sex,” she smiled but froze when a shadow clouded over his gaze for a second.
Like he really believed what she’d said.
They really needed to talk about his self-esteem super soon, because on moments like this one, she was almost sure he thought he was not good enough for her.
What was absolutely ridiculous.
But before she could have apologized, he sneaked his hands under Kara’s shirt (well, technically his ) and it was her time to squeak.
Kryptonians on Earth were immune to punches, kicks, bullets, hell!, even to rockets. But for some reason they were not immune to Daxamites’ hands tickling them mercilessly.
The first time, when Mon-El had done it, she almost died from laughter. How many years she has spent on Earth, not really feeling the touches humans were giving her?
And then, the former Prince(ss) of Daxam who fell from the sky, gave her something no one else could - an overwhelming feeling of normality.
Too bad Daxamites were immune to Kryptonian tickling. But well, cold Kryptonian feet, sneaked under the covers and laid flat on naked Daxamites’ chests (or asses) worked almost as good as tickling. Few of Kara’s neighbours, woken in the middle of the night by an extraordinary Daxamite scream, could confirm that.
They were lying on the bed, limbs tangled, Mon-El on top of Kara, who was panting and giggling almost hystercially.
And then her stomach grumbled again.
Mon-El sighed heavily and hid his face in the crook of her neck.
“Pancakes?” he moaned with a defeated voice.
“Yes, please,” Kara hiccuped and laughed again.
“Want to join me?”
“In a minute,” she kissed the tip of his nose and watched him leave.
Then she chuckled and spread her limbs on the bed, feeling incredibly happy and fulfilled.
Caresing softly a still warm side of his bed, she decided that she didn’t want to wake up in an empty bed ever again.
And then she smiled broadly when she heard him humming hakuna matata, while cracking eggs and mixing them with flour and milk.
Kara slowly got up and went to the kitchen with a strong resolution to allow him to make the pancakes.
While looking at his glorious ass, of course.