Chapter Text
Kate is mortified.
She’s gotten herself into a lot of embarrassing situations, ones that may seem way worse than this if observed objectively, but at this moment, she wants to do nothing more than stab herself with one of her arrows.
Because,
Yelena is standing right in front of her, arms still in front of her like she’s ready to block a punch (because that’s what they’re doing, they’re literally in the middle of a fight, what the hell), her eyes glint and her lips curve upwards to form an infuriating grin.
“Did you just moan?”
Kate can already feel her face turning an angry red. She resolutely doesn’t meet Yelena’s bemused gaze and focuses on her shoes instead.
Completely unbidden, a memory comes to Kate, her old combat instructor, post victory, screaming at her: Never take your eyes off your opponent!
“No.” Kate says weakly.
Yelena raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“No!” Kate says again, her voice cracking. God damn it. “No, I just. Squeaked. I make weird noises when I fight. It’s a… a quirk of mine.”
“A quirk.” Yelena echoes, amused. Kate wants to die.
“So if I…” Yelena takes a step forward, slotting her thigh between Kate’s legs, mirroring the position they were in right before Kate decided to be a complete fucking idiot and moan in the middle of a fight, who the hell even does that? “If I do this...” She jerks her leg up ever so slightly so her thigh rubs right against Kate’s crotch, and she doesn’t moan, thankfully, but her mouth falls open and her breath stutters like she’s in some weird soft-core lesbian porno.
Yelena smirks, very, very smug.
“I have to say,” Yelena drawls, “I quite like this… quirk of yours.”
Kate stares.
Yelena steps forward again, and now they’re impossibly close to each other, Kate can feel the blonde breathing against her chest. She swallows and looks down at her, and while Yelena still has that insufferable grin on, she looks almost… nervous?
“Oh. Hey there.” Kate squeaks. Yelena is moving her hands now, one of them comes to rest on her waist and another starts idly tracing patterns on her arm. “Is this,” Kate swallows again. “Is this a thing that’s happening right now? ‘Cause we were literally just fighting and honestly, I was like really in the mood, not that I’m not into what’s happening right now, I’m just kinda confused and-”
She stops speaking, mostly because of Yelena’s mouth on her own.
Yelena leans back not even a moment later to look up at Kate, eyes searching. “This is okay?”
Kate fights the urge to burst into hysterical laughter, because what the fuck is happening? There’s an entire streetwide fight going on outside, Clint is somewhere down there, by himself up against an entire fucking mafia, and Kate is up here kissing someone who happens to be THE NATASHA ROMANOFF’s sister and also wants to murder Clint?
????????
“Yeah.” Kate says, cause Yelena’s like, smokin’ hot. “Totally okay.”
This time, it’s Kate who leans down ever so slightly and sucks Yelena’s bottom lip into her mouth, kissing her unlike she’s ever kissed anyone else, hands on her waist. It’s rough and even a little painful, Yelena’s teeth tearing at Kate’s lips before shoving her tongue in her mouth. And it’s just them, just two women in their combat suits and an array of weapons at hand, making out at the top of the Rockefeller Center on Christmas Eve, hundreds of feet above Clint, above everyone.
Kate’s hands slowly travel up to Yelena’s stomach, her hands slipping under the tough leather of Yelena’s suit. She moves her hands even further north until one brushes a nipple. She grins against Yelena’s mouth, feeling rather proud of the quiet whimper Yelena lets out.
And then Yelena shoves her against the wall, breaking their kiss, but to Kate’s relief, her mouth immediately finds a bit of soft skin under Kate’s earlobe to suck at, her tongue painting devious patterns down her neck, sending shocks of heat straight to Kate’s stomach.
“Fuck,” She hisses as Yelena starts sucking a hickey on her neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Kate feels Yelena’s hand skim her belly and make its way to her belt. She valiantly attempts to undo it while peppering kisses to Kate’s collarbone, her other hand busy groping the brunette’s ass, but after a minute, she gives up, leaning back and bursting into a bout of self deprecating laughter.
“Your pants are evil.” Yelena informs Kate. Kate ignores her, too busy wrenching her belt off. She grabs Yelena’s hand and shoves it right back where it was, at the bottom of her stomach. Yelena, thankfully, gets the hint and slips her hand inside her pants with a grunt.
“Evil.” She repeats, struggling to fit her entire hand in. “These are so tight, there’s no way this is comfortable.”
“They make my ass look great.” Kate replies and Yelena nods her enthusiastic agreement. “It’s worth the sacrifice.”
“See, my pants make my ass look great, and I’m not suffocating my vagina in there.” Yelena pulls at her pants with her unoccupied hand, demonstrating. “You Americans, always giving up comfort for looks. It doesn’t always have to be one or the other, you know.”
Kate shuts her up by sticking her tongue in the blonde’s mouth, and they’re back on track again.
Yelena finally (finally!!!) moves her hand a little more down, the tips of her fingers brushing against her clit.
“Oh fuck.” Kate whimpers, burying her face in Yelena’s neck. She smells good, like some sort of vaguely fruity body wash mixed with the fainter scent of her natural musk. She breathes in quick, exhales slowly, and begins to place wet, openmouthed kisses along the line of her collarbone.
Yelena moves her hand in slow, agonizing circles over her underwear, right above her clit but with only just enough pressure for her to feel anything. Kate whines into Yelena’s neck, wordlessly urging her to go faster, harder, anything that would make her feel it.
The blonde chuckles, low and husky, and Kate feels it in her core, throbbing and needy. She groans in frustration when Yelena does nothing, grinding against her hand. Yelena presses a quick, chaste kiss to Kate’s lips and moves the fabric separating her hand and Kate’s pussy, letting her hand press up against the wet heat. Kate moans, jerking against Yelena’s hand.
“Please.” She whimpers, biting at Yelena’s earlobe, sucking at it. To her surprise (and eternal gratefulness), Yelena doesn’t question it any further, slowly pushing a finger, then two, three, inside her.
And then all of a sudden, she’s done teasing. She fingers Kate, quick and dirty, mouthing at her neck and grinding against her thigh. Kate lets her head fall back against the wall, a quiet, steady stream of swears leaving her mouth. Yelena curves her fingers inside her, and Kate goes, “Oh fuck.” and comes with a sob.
She slumps forward, head flopping on Yelena’s shoulder. Yelena gently sits them both down and leans away from Kate, fixing her clothes.
“Oh my god.” Kate says, dazed. “That was like, the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Oh my god.”
Yelena stands up, looking amused.
“Where are you going?” Kate is too floaty to care about how whiny she sounds, or the obnoxious pout her lips form. “Come baaack. You didn’t get off.”
Yelena laughs. “You owe me one, then. I still have a Barton to kill.”
Kate blinks. “Wait, what?”
“I truly hope this isn’t the last I see of you, Kate Bishop.” Yelena says, and with a final grin and a mocking solute, she backs out of the doorway.
A moment later, Kate hears glass shattering.
Goddamn.