Chapter Text
Kate doesn’t see her at first. If she did, she might’ve avoided making a fool of herself. But, because reality is rarely kind to her, Kate doesn’t see the blonde until it’s too late and suddenly, she’s sprawled out on a patch of grass, a pile of books dumped on her legs, and a very pretty girl glaring down at her. The glare shouldn’t do it for her but it does.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Kate says, scrambling to her knees and picking up the books scattered around her. She clocks the titles as she slides them into a pile in her arms. Russian literature. Clint had been bugging Kate about honing her observational skills so she practices on the girl in front of her. She grasps onto every piece of information her eyes take in while standing up: Cut off shorts. Appropriate given the sun bearing down on them. Loose, button up. Cute knees. Light blue nail polish, slightly chipped. Lovely lips. A scar on her chin. A few hoops dangling from her ear. And a few inches shorter than Kate. And, of course, an unimpressed stare that seemed to seer right through her. All in all, Kate is captivated. “Sorry,” Kate says again, a bundle of Russian lit books held against her chest. Looking closer, she notices all the words on the back and front covers are Russian. She only recognized the names along the spines at first. Tolstoy . Dostoevsky .
“You can read Russian?” Kate asks. She realizes as she says it that it’s a redundant question. Why else would this girl be lugging around thick volumes of Russian literature? She would smack herself on the head if her hands weren’t already occupied.
The corners of the girl’s mouth quirks up, amused as she looks Kate over. “Well it would be weird if I didn’t,” she says. “Considering I am Russian.”
The accent. Wow. Kate is enamored. Before she can even attempt to hand off the whole bundle all at once to her, the girl just picks up the books from Kate’s awkward grip, sliding them into a neat stack against her torso. “I’m Kate,” she says. “Kate Bishop.”
Her lips quirk up again. It’s a small smile but a smile nonetheless. “Nice to meet you, Kate Bishop.”
Kate waits a beat as she hands off the last of her books. She doesn’t give her name and Kate doesn’t want to seem too desperate to ask for it so she doesn’t. She’s saddled with disappointment instead as she watches the girl shift her feet, preparing to leave.
“See you around, Kate Bishop.”
“Yeah, see you…”
“Yelena.”
“Yelena.”
Kate watches her disappear around the corner of the library, already resigned to the fact that she would be late to her econ class again. As far as first meetings go, Kate has done worse.
***
The next few days, Kate keeps a look out for blonde hair and a particularly cute nose as she traverses campus. She can’t help herself. One of Kate’s most prominent flaws was a determined, one track mind. Something that was good during archery practice or studying for an exam but not while attempting to do either and also keep an eye out for Yelena. It’s not like it’s the first time a girl has caught and held her attention after one meeting but Kate was a person who liked to see things through to the end. There was a definite vibe between them when Kate had run into her, literally. She had told Kate her name. That had to be something.
Kate, by virtue of being very charming, very rich, and very pretty, was very popular on campus. She had asked around her wide social net to see if anyone knew a Yelena with a Russian accent. She only had luck with a couple people who shared a Russian lit class with her but only knew her first name and not much else about her. What she gleaned from the limited results of her search was that Yelena was either not a very social person in general or just with her peers. Which meant Kate’s only hope of further interaction was to run into her again (figuratively, this time) at some point.
Much to Kate’s disappointment, she has to wait another week for that to happen. Kate is covered in sweat and grass stains, cutting through campus after archery practice. Yelena had taken a backseat in her mind as exams and her mother’s impending wedding took up more and more of her time. After a full seven days of no Yelena sightings, Kate had almost given up on seeing her again until-
Kate suddenly notices she’s walking directly into someone’s path. Once again, she’s not looking where she’s going. But, unlike last time, there is no full on collision.
A pair of surprisingly strong hands land on her arms, stilling her before she walks straight into the other person. Looking up, an apology already on her lips, she’s both elated and mystified to find Yelena staring right back at her, her expression a little less excited and more irritated.
“Watch where you’re going, Kate Bishop,” She says.
Kate tries to play it cool. “Hi!” she says, way too loudly. Internally, she is beating herself.
Yelena quirks a brow. “Hi,” she says, amusement leaking into her tone. “Are you always this distracted, Kate Bishop?”
Kate tries not to show how flustered she is by the repeated usage of her full name. Or the way Yelena’s accent curls around it. “Not usually, no,” she says. “Just tired from archery practice.” She gestures to bow and quiver still attached to her back and watches Yelena’s eyes take them in. Kate doesn’t miss the way her eyes flit over her arms, on full display given the team tank top she opted to wear. Mentally, she pats herself on the back for her clothing choice.
Yelena’s gaze flicks back to Kate. “Like Katniss Everdeen?”
“More like Clint Barton.” Kate takes Yelena’s blank stare for confusion. “Hawkeye? You know, the avenger who shoots arrows and stuff.” Kate pantomimes shooting an arrow but Yelena still continues to just stare at her. “No powers. Black Widow’s best friend?”
Yelena scoffs. “I prefer Katniss Everdeen.”
Sorry, Clint . "Yeah, that's fair,” Kate says. No offense to her mentor but all was far game in the pursuit of pretty women, especially a woman as gorgeous and magnetic as the one standing in front of her. “But, no, I’m on the archery team,” Kate says. And because she’s naturally boastful with a larger than average ego: “National champion,” she adds.
Yelena whistles, raising her brows. “Impressive,” she says although Kate gets the feeling she’s making fun of her. It doesn’t matter because she preens under the attention anyway. “Thanks,” she says.
And that’s when she notices the earbuds dangling around Yelena’s neck, one still nestled in her ear. A low hum emanates from her earbuds, the music loud enough for Kate to notice it but too dim for her to make out the actual song.
“What are you listening to?” she asks. Yelena quirks a brow, possibly amused or annoyed by Kate’s boldness. It could go either way; she was used to both reactions.
“Cecilia,” Yelena says.
“Is that a song or?”
With a slight shift of her brow, Yelena looks mildly offended. “Yes, it’s a song. A popular song by Simon and Garfunkel.”
“Like Mrs. Robinson Simon and Garfunkel?”
She smiles and a series of cheers goes off in Kate’s chest. She’s doing great so far. Much better than last time. “Yes, that is another popular song of theirs.” Yelena picks up the bud from where it’s hanging around her neck and holds it up for Kate to take. “Here.”
Kate takes the earbud from Yelena. Their knuckles graze each other’s and Kate tries not to let the electricity she feels show on her face. She’s playing it cool. Well, as cool as she could be. Kate slides the earbud into her ear, taking a step closer to Yelena so the cord dangles between them loosely and their arms are almost brushing. She tries to pay attention to the song.
She hears Yelena restart the song for her which endears her for some reason. Yelena watches her face as the song plays on. Kate tries not to blush. From the heat spreading up her neck, she doesn’t think she’s succeeding. The song is short, fading out far too quickly for Kate’s liking since it means she has to give the earbud back and step out of Yelena’s space.
“Good, no?” Yelena asks.
Kate nods. She only caught the last chorus before losing herself in the proximity to Yelena but she does like the song. “Yeah, I like it,” she says. Yelena smiles. She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stares at Kate before taking a step back. “See you around, Kate Bishop,” she says, turning to continue her walk.
“See you, Yelena whatever-your-last-name is!”
The chuckle she hears Yelena let loose as she walks away lands right in Kate’s chest, a little cheer going off inside her head.
***
Kate adds the song to her Spotify almost as soon as Yelena walks away from her. She spends the next few days listening to it on repeat. It’s a song that reverberates throughout her head whenever her mind wanders to Yelena (which happens a lot in the following days). She’d be embarrassed about how badly she already has it if it weren’t for the fact that Yelena most definitely could make anyone this discombobulated if she wanted to. Kate listens to the song so much that it’s not really surprising that the next time she sees Yelena, the opening chords to cecilia sound off in her head.
Kate isn't actively looking for her this time. In fact, from what little she knows about Yelena, she can’t imagine that she would frequent archery parties. Especially considering Kate has never seen her at one before. But there’s no mistaking that it’s Yelena Kate sees walking through the living room. The party is at Greer’s house, a place she shares with three other girls from the archery team and which hosts the best parties on campus, almost every weekend. Kate is leaning against the kitchen counter, just barely sending off a good night text to her mom, when she notices the blonde hair in her peripheral vision.
The kitchen counter has a full view of the living room. Which makes it easy to watch Yelena as she moves through the crowd. Cecilia starts to play as her eyes latch onto her. Kate will never understand her own mind so she just rolls her with it. Three other girls accompany Yelena, all of them gorgeous and intimidating, as they make their way through the sea of bodies crowding the place. Kate watches Yelena break off from the group to go to the kitchen. Kate assumes she’s looking for the alcohol which is all lined up along the counter opposite Kate. A surprised but delighted look crosses her face as soon as she enters the kitchen, seeing Kate nursing a beer by the sink. “Kate Bishop,” she says, walking up to the part of the counter that Kate had claimed as her own. “Are you stalking me?”
The music quiets the closer Yelena gets. The usage of her full name still sends a small thrill rushing through her. There was also a casual cockiness about her that almost rivaled her own, something Kate couldn’t help but be attracted to.
“No, if anything you’re stalking me,” Kate says. “This is an archery party.”
“Is it?”
Yelena glances around as if the archery team would be wearing their bows and arrows on their backs, confirming that this was in fact a gathering of archers.
“Yeah,” Kate says. While Yelena’s eyes are pointed away from her, she takes the opportunity to study her face, taking in every beautiful inch as if she were a painting. Her cheekbones, the scar underneath her chin and the natural curve of her mouth. And her eyes. A fucking beautiful combination of green and hazel that Kate only gets a moment to appreciate before the full attention of those eyes are on her again. Her mouth is quirked knowingly. Kate doesn’t even fight the blush that washes over her cheeks.
“Well, I was not informed when I was invited,” Yelena says. She snatches a clean, plastic cup from the counter and begins to pour herself what looks to be straight vodka. Kate doesn’t know why but she finds this immensely attractive. Especially when she brings the rim to her lips, a droplet sliding down the corner of her mouth, tracing the column of her throat before Yelena wipes it away with her hand.
“Who invited you?” Kate asks. She remembers the three other girls Kate had seen her with earlier. Most likely, they were friends. But still, the possibility of something more than a platonic connection rushes through her mind and questions are falling from her mouth before she can think better to not ask. “Did you come here with someone? Like a girlfriend or a boyfriend or-”Kate shakes her head. She’d blame the alcohol but she seldom had control over her mouth when she was sober too. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
Yelena laughs, putting a hand on Kate’s arm. Her eyes zero in on where Yelena’s fingers brush her forearm, electricity humming beneath her skin. “I came with friends, Kate Bishop. No boyfriend or girlfriend.”
“Cool,” Kate says, nodding. She takes a sip of her beer just to do something with her hands. “Very cool.”
“Is it?” Yelena asks, brow quirked. She takes another sip of her drink, her tongue slipping out to swipe at her lips and Kate’s mouth is suddenly dry as her eyes flicker down to watch the movement. Her lips are painted a dark shade of purple. Kate’s favorite color. Dropping her gaze a few inches below her lips, Yelena’s throat bobs in a hypnotic motion as she swallows the last of her vodka.
“Mmmhmm,” Kate hums, averting her eyes lest she get caught staring again.
“What about you, Kate Bishop?”
“What about me?”
“Boyfriend or girlfriend?”
Kate laughs, rubbing a hand along the back of neck as she lowers her head, the scrutiny of Yelena’s gaze too much for her to handle head on at the moment. “Neither,” she says. She resists the urge to add I’m very, very single and take me now, please . She takes another sip of her beer instead.
“Cool.”
“Very cool.” Kate’s eyes flicker down to Yelena lips again. She glances away just as they curve up into a smirk. Kate clears her throat, eyeing the bottles cluttered on the counter beside them and the empty cup in Yelena’s hand. “Do you want another drink or-?”
“Sure.”
***
They take to a slightly quieter corner of the kitchen where Kate leans against the wall, watching Yelena sip at her vodka with dark lips, as they talk about everything and nothing. Kate learns Yelena has a sister and three roommates who all happen to be very close friends, all three of whom she came to the party with. She teases Kate for being a business major and Kate teases her for being an English major although they both agree being an English major was the much more respectable field of study. Yelena rolls her eyes but smiles at Kate’s dumb jokes and Kate is absolutely smitten. What seals the deal is watching her arm wrestle another girl from the archery team, face red but not breaking a sweat as she pins the back of her hand to the kitchen counter. The small crowd around them erupts into cheers and congratulatory or conciliatory pats on the back.
Afterwards, Kate finds herself pressed against the front of Greer’s washing machine with Yelena’s legs wrapped around her waist. They’re in the basement which has been cordoned off from the rest of the party. The bass of the music and the roar of the party is dimmed as Yelena’s tongue flicks into her mouth.
Kate groans into the kiss. Yelena tastes like mint and vodka. Her hands grip the back of Kate’s shirt and wind themselves into her hair, pulling her in. Yelena kisses her like she’s drinking her up, tongue greedy and impatient as she swallows Kate’s moans. From her hair to her shoulders to her hips to her ass, Yelena’s hands run all over Kate’s body to pull her closer. The cool metal of the washing machine digs into the front of her thighs as she tries her best to comply.
Kate has kissed countless people. Her sexual appetite was voracious and, as a generally curious and confident individual, she didn’t deny herself very often. Restraint and moderation were not virtues she was skilled in. Which is why she doesn’t hold back as her tongue wrestles with Yelena’s. Kissing Yelena feels decadent. Kate was used to spoiling herself but this is a whole nother level.
Kate’s desire is a hot iron rod in her gut, burning beneath her skin, aching to be let out. Or maybe that was just the arousal forming solid and eager in her jeans. She knows Yelena can feel it against her. She groans into Kate’s mouth as she bucks up against her, earning a hiss from Kate. But the intensified arousal between them quickly sours when Yelena breaks away from her. She wears an affronted expression and Kate tries to think of anything she might’ve done in the last few seconds to warrant it, already opening her mouth to apologize-
“You’re an alpha?” Yelena asks.
This is the last thing Kate expects to be asked. “Yeah?”
Yelena’s nose wrinkles as her lips curl downwards. She doesn’t like Kate’s answer.
“Why? Is that a problem?”
Kate has never hid her status. She didn’t exactly advertise it either although it wasn’t exactly hard to guess. People loved to assume things about her because of her upbringing and how she carried herself on campus. But she was on excellent, medical grade suppressants so her pheromones were normally well hidden unless she purposely let them out. Which, in her drunken and aroused state, was highly likely. It tended to happen whenever she found herself kissing a pretty girl, an instinct she didn’t necessarily fight, and it had never been an issue before. Most people didn’t have a problem with her being an alpha. Most people tended to correctly assume her status before she could divulge it herself. But Yelena stared up at her as if she were personally offended.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Kate furrows her brow, not believing this was where they were at now when they had been making out only seconds ago. “You have some kind of thing against alphas?”
“It’s just a preference.”
“A preference for what?”
“Not alphas.”
Kate’s heart suddenly drops into her stomach. Disappointment wells up in her throat. It’s not like she hasn’t ever been rejected before but still. All the hope that had been growing in her chest starts to deflate as does the stiffness in her pants. “Okay, well, I guess we’re done here.” Her hands dropped from Yelena’s hips as she’d just been burned.
“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone has their preferences.” Yelena doesn’t owe her anything. She can back out at any time. It doesn’t lessen the sting to her feelings or ego but Kate’s a big girl, she can handle rejection. She tries her best to keep the pout off her face as she takes a step back from the washing machine.
“Kate-” Yelena starts, face contrite, but Kate waves off the apology she can sense on her tongue.
“No, it’s fine, really,” Kate says. “You’re not into it.” She tries to keep the disappointment from her voice but Kate’s never been a good actor.
“I never said I wasn’t into it.”
“You just said-”
“I know what I said,” Yelena says, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ears. She looks at Kate as if she were taking all of her in for the first time, her face contemplative as she grips the sides of the washing machine. “But maybe I can make an exception just this once.”
“Just this once?” Kate asks, taking a step back towards Yelena. Her legs open up again for Kate to slot between them.
“Just this once,” Yelena says before taking Kate’s lip in between her teeth. Kate groans, her hands sliding down to grip her hips until Yelena pulls back again.
“You never asked for my status?” Yelena asks although it comes out more like an accusation.
Kate shrugs. “I don’t share your prejudice. I like kissing all kinds of people.”
Yelena rolls her eyes, pulling Kate back in. “How enlightened of you.”
“I’m a very open minded girl.”
In this day and age, with modern technology, you could basically have sex with anyone of any status. It just required some maneuvering, especially with someone who shared your status. Kate tended to be open to all kinds of people but she did have a preference for omegas. It was stereotypical of her but they just scratched a specific biological itch for Kate. She only took heat suppressants when she didn’t have a regular, ongoing fling to fall back on during her ruts. Which, at the moment, she didn’t. Not since Claire got a girlfriend and Tia graduated last semester. She had been too busy to find adequate replacements for her fuck buddies with exams, solo-avenger training since Clint was several states away, and helping as much as she could with her mom’s impending wedding.
Yelena’s hand slides down to grip Kate’s ass, tugging her closer. She groans into her mouth, chasing Yelena’s tongue. “Maybe we should take this somewhere else?” Kate suggests. “I’m pretty sure we’re about a few minutes away from someone else trying to hook up on the washing machine. This is a pretty popular spot.”
Yelena laughs against her mouth and Kate wishes she could swallow the sound. “What do you have in mind?” she asks.
***
Kate’s apartment is a mess. There’s pizza boxes piled up on one side of the kitchen counter while a slew of spare arrow parts overtakes the other side. A few random socks and t-shirts are strewn across her living room floor, a product of Kate’s late night laziness. But Yelena doesn’t seem to pay attention to any of that when Lucky comes bounding towards them. She bends down, lavishing him in pets and kisses that he laps up like the attention whore he is. Kate and him were similar in that regard.
“Lucky, this is Yelena,” Kate says, standing beside her as she gestures between the two of them. “Yelena, Lucky the Pizza Dog.”
“Pizza Dog?”
“It’s a long story.” Kate’s hand finds Yelena’s back thoughtlessly. As soon as her hand grazes the warmth of her back, Yelena stands back up. She steps into Kate’s space, their fronts brushing against one another with only an inch of space between their faces. “Where is your bedroom, Kate Bishop?”
Kate swallows thickly, the taste of Yelena still faint on her tongue. She clears her throat, stepping around Yelena to gesture towards the stairs and to regain some composure lest she forget how to speak. “This way, m’lady,” she says. Yelena scoffs, a smile on her lips as she follows Kate up the steps towards her bedroom.
Kate had been semi-erect since they left the party, her cock straining against the denim of her jeans. But the arousal rushes back full force through her veins like a live wire as soon as Yelena pushes her up against her dresser. She doesn’t waste a second the moment they enter Kate’s bedroom. Yelena’s hands fist in her hair, dragging her down into a filthy kiss. Kate’s groans are muffled by her tongue, tangling with Kate’s. Her hands leave Kate’s hair to tug at the hem of her shirt, tucked underneath the waistband of her pants. She pulls on Kate’s belt buckle, undoing the latch.
Kate is quick to shed her shirt and kick off her shoes until she’s standing in only her boy shorts. Her breath is heavy with anticipation as Yelena stands before her, still fully clothed, looking Kate over. Kate slips off the last piece of clothing so she’s fully naked before Yelena’s eyes. Most people might feel self conscious at this kinda display of nudity, especially while having someone fully clothed looking over their naked body so blatantly. But Kate knows what she looks like. She worked out, she ate enough of the good stuff that her muscles didn’t eat themselves and her body was full of sharp lines and hard curves. And she’d been genetically blessed with very good skin. Kate knows she looks good naked. She’d been naked with enough people to appreciate the appeal of her own body. This is the first time of the night that she doesn’t squirm under Yelena’s eyes. Not even as they look over the full length of her.
“Good for you,” Yelena says. Even though there’s a teasing tone in her words, Kate still has to restrain herself from preening.
She watches as Yelena’s hands go to the hem of her own shirt. She strips off every article of clothing without any hint of self-consciousness, her movements quick and precise. Which was understandable. If Yelena had any idea how she looked, why would she feel self-conscious? With or without clothes, she was definitely the most beautiful girl Kate had ever seen, gorgeous in a way that felt like a punch to the gut.
Kate is only allowed a moment to take in every visible inch of Yelena before she tugs them close together again. Kate moans at the feel of Yelena’s body against hers, her length brushing against Yelena’s thighs.
Yelena’s hands slide to her hips, pushing her towards the bed. Kate lets herself be guided along willingly until her knees hit the edge of the bed.
She scoots up along the sheets, Yelena following her, until her back rests against her pillows and Yelena is poised over her lap, thighs bracketing her hips. Kate can smell Yelena’s own arousal from where she’s laying. Even more than that, she feels it smearing along her thighs. Her cock twitches at the wetness coating her skin. “Wait, wait,” Kate says, more logical thoughts breaking through her stupor of horny anticipation. “Condoms.”
Yelena lets loose a noise of impatience and annoyance above her. “I can’t get pregnant and I’m free of every and any disease,” she says, peering down at Kate. Her arousal is enough of a distraction that Kate has to focus really hard on listening to her words. “How about you?”
“I’m clean,” Kate says, heart pounding in her chest at the smell and sight of Yelena, naked and ready above her. “I have the results on my phone if you want to-”
“I believe you,” she says. “I don’t need a condom if you don’t.”
The thought of being inside of Yelena, no barrier between them, had her twitching between her legs. She swallows thickly, trying to settle down lest she get too excited. “No, I, uh, I don’t need one. I-if you’re okay with it, I don’t really need-”Kate’s words stutter to a pause as Yelena wraps a hand around her cock, lining her up at her entrance. Before Kate can even fully process the image, Yelena has sunk down without any resistance. They moan in unison.
“Fuck,” Kate groans, fully ensheathed. They’ve gone faster than she was used to. Kate was used to more drawn out foreplay; some sort of elongated build up, but she has no idea why anyone would wait to experience this.
Yelena starts to rock against her and the feeling is unparalleled. Kate wants to lean into it, thrust up to meet Yelena’s hips, but Kate’s brain is still back in Greer’s laundry room, focused on the disdain in Yelena’s face when she first pulled away. She doesn’t want to stop but she has to make sure. “Hey, hey, sorry,” she says. “But is this okay? Are you still-”
“I’m good, Kate Bishop,” Yelena says, a light exhale of amusement leaving her lips. “This is good.”
“It is?”
“Is that what you like?” Her hands tighten in Kate’s hair, pulling her up from the pillows. Her arms wrap around Yelena’s back, bringing their bodies closer together as she nips at her neck. “Praise? Want me to tell you how good you are?”
Kate whines into her chest. “Only if you mean it,” she says.
Kate has had plenty of sex in her life. Her libido had pretty much always been boisterous and her confidence made it easy to approach people she was attracted to. She’d experimented often and experienced all different kinds of pleasure before. But the feeling of being inside Yelena is incomparable. Kate could say it’s like the feeling of landing her first bullseye or winning her first trophy or coming home after her first mission with Clint. But none of those comparisons would do it justice. She could wax poetic just the same about Yelena’s noises. The little moans and whimpers she lets loose as she rides Kate for all she’s worth. Kate feels each one like a hot poker in the center of her gut, tight and burning as Yelena clenches around her. She could write sonnets about every noise Yelena makes, the feel of her nails sliding down Kate’s back, her teeth grazing her neck. Every miniscule detail would get its own volume of words.
Yelena curses in Russian, the words pressed against the side of Kate’s head. “Very good, Kate Bishop,” she says. “You feel so good.”
Kate can only whine some more into her neck as Yelena rocks against her, pulling her hips back and digging her nails into Kate’s scalp. Kate didn’t usually make noises like this, similar to a wounded puppy. But Kate couldn’t help herself. Yelena pulled moans and whimpers from her like Debussy playing the piano.
“Fuck,” Yelena pants. Kate feels her tightening around her. She’s close. Kate can feel her own orgasm approaching much quicker than she’d like.
“You feel amazing,” Kate says, hands gripping Yelena’s hips. Each shift of Yelena’s body, Kate is tiptoeing closer and closer towards the edge. The pleasure is intoxicating. Kate is drunk on it.
Suddenly, she feels Yelena’s walls clench around her, her nails digging into her back to break, hard enough to break skin as she comes on top of Kate. She squeezes her within an inch of her life and Kate is pushed roughly into her own climax. She pulls Yelena’s hips against her own, keeping up the rhythm to ride out their orgasms together. Yelena shudders above her and Kate holds her to her chest, keeping her steady as they sag against one another, the tremors of pleasure fading out from their bodies.
Kate is fully prepared to have Yelena slide off of her, satiated and done with Kate for the night; her disdain for alphas from earlier in the night is still clearly remembered. Kate herself would rather die than slide out of Yelena but she braces herself for the quick end of the night just the same. But Yelena doesn’t slide off of her. She only peers down at Kate, one eyebrow arched. “One and done, Kate Bishop?” she asks. “I thought you would have more stamina. And for an alpha, noless-”
Her words are cut off by the sudden reversal of their positions. Kate flips their bodies so Yelena is on her back, thighs snug around Kate’s hips. She holds herself above Yelena so she can meet her eyes. “Is this okay?” she asks.
Yelena looks up at her, bemused. She nods after a couple of moments. “Cool,” Kate says. After a moment of brief indecision, she shifts to press a quick kiss to Yelena’s temple before moving her hips.
“God, you feel amazing,” Kate says, face nestled in Yelena’s neck as she bucks up to meet Kate’s thrusts. She moans, hands sliding down Kate’s back to grip her ass. Kate groans against her collarbone, licking and kissing at whatever skin she could reach. “Fuck,” she pants. “You’re like the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”
Yelena laughs, the sound reverberating in her chest beneath Kate’s mouth. “I’m serious,” Kate says, continuing the steady rock of her hips. “They should write poetry about your face. I could write poetry about your face. Or your lips, your hands, your legs, your everything.”
Yelena’s laugh breaks into a guttural moan at a particularly sharp thrust of Kate’s hips as she changes her rhythm. “You talk a lot, Kate Bishop,” Yelena says, head falling back against the pillows, exposing the long, smooth swath of her neck. Kate leans up to plant a slew of kisses up the column of her throat. “Do you want me to stop?” she asks.
The only noise Yelena makes for a few seconds is a devastating series of moans and whimpers that bury themselves deep in Kate, propelling her hips into desperate motions that her muscles strain to keep up with. But, if Kate’s training gave her anything, it was the ability to match Yelena’s stamina. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.
“No,” Yelena says, arms wrapping around Kate’s shoulders. She pulls Kate against her so her torso is resting firmly on top of Yelena’s, no space in between them. It made maneuvering her hips a little more difficult but Kate made due, sliding a hand down between their bodies to find Yelena’s clit. The sound she gets in return when she adds the slightest pressure is reward enough for the soreness bearing down on her muscles. Kate wishes she could bottle the sound up and keep it for later. Instead, she licks into Yelena’s mouth, swallowing up every noise that squeaks past her throat as she works her fingers and thrusts in tandem to guide Yelena towards another orgasm. In a few seconds, she’s shuddering around Kate’s fingers. Kate is only allowed a moment of gratification before she’s on her back again, flipped over with surprising ease by Yelena.
“It’s two to one right now,” Yelena says. “I owe you one.”
Kate’s breathing heavily through her nose, trying to catch her breath. She exhales a sound of disbelief as she peers up at Yelena, a light sheen of sweat covering both of their bodies. “You don’t owe me any-”
Her words cut off into a broken moan as Yelena pulls her hips back, hard, resting her hands on Kate’s stomach for balance. “Fuck, Yelena,” she pants. Her hips buck up to meet Yelena’s relentless pace. A smell begins to permeate the room. Kate notices it almost immediately. She’s surprised but doesn’t stop her movements. It’s omega pheromones. Yelena’s pheromones. They cloud around Kate, tantalizing and warm, as they push her over the edge. She spasms beneath Yelena, coming again.
Her muscles relax into goo after her body is done twitching inside of Yelena. She sags into the mattress. Yelena follows her, resting on top of her chest, trying to catch her breath as she comes down.
They lie in silence, their breathing the only sound in the room for a bit. Kate is still nestled inside of Yelena. Yelena hadn’t shifted to slip off of her and Kate wasn’t gonna pull out if Yelena didn’t want her to. The feeling of Yelena’s walls snug around her keeps Kate’s arousal from completely subsiding and holds it steady. It’s not too long before Kate feels herself twitch again, already semi hard. And Yelena, of course, notices right away. In seconds, Yelena is clenched around Kate again, canting her hips downwards and tugging Kate into a messy kiss. This quickly becomes the pattern for the rest of the night.
Kate becomes a being whose only goal is chasing Yelena’s pleasure, drawing as many moans, scratches and bruises from her as she can. They don’t stop trying to outperform each other until the sun starts to shine over the buildings surrounding Kate’s apartment and flood into her bedroom. She is a pile of alpha musk, sweat and sore muscles when Yelena finally collapses against her. That’s how Kate falls asleep, Yelena’s breath steady and tired beneath her chin.
***
When Kate wakes up, Yelena is gone. Although she had expected it, she can’t help the disappointment that rises up in her chest, on the now empty spot where Yelena had been. Her scent still lingers along her skin and bedsheets. She allows herself a few moments to mourn the warm body that had been pressed against hers hours earlier before she slinks to the kitchen to scrounge up some breakfast.
Passing by the living room, she notices Lucky’s food bowl is full of actual dog food, some all natural stuff she had forgotten she had underneath the sink. It fills her up with an inexplicable warmth as she looks through her cabinets for anything edible. It’s ridiculous but it feels a lot like hope. She doesn’t realize she’s humming until mid way through cooking her runny eggs.
Oh Cecilia, you’re breakin’ my heart
***
Yelena wonders how exactly she got to this point as she slides out from underneath Kate Bishop's very warm, muscled arm. An alpha. She shakes her head at herself in disgust as she tries to find her underwear amid the trail of clothes lining Kate’s bedroom floor. Kate must’ve been on heat suppressants, same as Yelena, otherwise she would’ve been able to smell her status. She would’ve been able to stop herself from wasting her time and making this mistake. But no, her stupid pheromones got the best of her and she had a terrible lapse in judgement.
As she mentally curses herself and finally finds her underwear (flung on top of Kate’s dresser somehow) she hears a rustle coming from the bed. Yelena stills, barely breathing, as she watches Kate shift in bed. She turns over so Yelena can partially see her face but she’s still asleep, mumbling unintelligibly into her pillow. Her nose is scrunched up in a way that Yelena can’t help but find endearing, almost like a child. But she shakes her head, ridding herself of any warm feelings she may have towards Kate Bishop. She finds her pants from the previous night at the foot of the bed. She slides them on while hunting for her shirt and bra. She spends about five minutes searching before she decides to cut her losses and takes a shirt from Kate’s dresser drawer instead. She won’t miss it , Yelena reasons and gives up on the bra altogether. She tiptoes out of Kate’s bedroom and is sliding on her shoes at the front door when Lucky decides to wake up, a much earlier riser than his mom. Luckily, he doesn’t bark. Only licks at Yelena’s face as she bends down to say goodbye. She searches through Kate’s cupboards until she finds the doggy treats and a bag of dog food underneath the sink. She feeds him two treats and fills up his bowl. He whines as Yelena opens the door to leave. She’s quick to sush him which works to quiet him but he still frowns as much as a dog can as Yelena lingers in the doorway. She tosses him one last treat before closing the door behind her.
The walk home isn’t that long but it gives Yelena time to ruminate on her poor choices. Like how exactly she came to reek of alpha pheromones and broke the one rule she had for herself (well, the one important rule she had for herself. Yelena had many rules for herself.) And what exactly she had gotten herself into the night before. Flashes of brown eyes and bruised flesh come back to her and she shakes her head, annoyed with herself.
When Kate first ran into Yelena (literally) her interest had been peaked. Of course, it had. Yelena wasn’t blind. She was a young woman with a healthy libido and working vision. There had been an attraction when Kate first met her eyes, stammering through an introduction, obviously flushed but trying to hide it under what Yelena gleaned was a practiced, automatic charm. Yelena had observed the solid formation of her arms and shoulders under her long sleeve, the genuine warmth behind her smile, and her obvious confidence. Something about her had been equal parts endearing and intriguing. An interesting mix of bold and humbled, confident but still intimidated by Yelena. She had been interested enough to give her first name. More than most people ever got from her. She had been quick to use a tiny portion of her skills to find out just a little more about Kate Bishop. She didn’t look for her social security number or anything too deep and precious. But she did find her class schedule and a lengthy array of past dalliances; numerous exes and former hook-ups, most of which she found just by asking around. Her friends, Ana, Sonya, Oksana, the other widows on campus, are good for that. They’re a much more social group than Yelena is by herself. While they were also in pursuit of something better than what the red room had dealt them, something normal, they had actual lives while Yelena had school and them. And, of course, her sister.
Looking for information on Kate Bishop, she didn’t want to stray too far. Some secrets Yelena preferred to be given freely to her. And it was after that second meeting where Kate had fumbled through another interaction, nervous yet cocky at the same time, that Yelena had decided she wanted to learn Kate’s secrets.
And maybe holding back on her search for information was a mistake. If she had dug just even a little bit deeper, she could have easily found Kate’s alpha status. And it wouldn't have been such a shock once they finally kissed. Yelena wouldn’t have wasted her time on an alpha. Although she was still hesitant to call any time spent with Kate Bishop a waste. But still. There was a reason Yelena stayed away from alphas. Like there was a reason all widows were either Omegas or Betas.
American society had mostly progressed past the stereotypes of different biologies but Russia, in the time Natasha and Yelena had grown up, certainly still relied on those stereotypes and the thin veil of truth they were based on. Alphas drew too much attention, were often loud, aggressive in a way that demanded speculation, in a way that was hard to train. Hard to break. At least, that was what the red room had thought. And so Natasha, a beta, and Yelena, an omega, had been chosen from the womb simply because of their status and their birth families financial restraints. If Yelena had been born an alpha, she would’ve been safe from the red room. But she was not and she had to live with her specific biology and the conditioning of the red room for the rest of her life. That meant no alphas. Not even cute ones like Kate Bishop who yielded under her mouth and let Yelena set the pace. No, Kate Bishop was a one time incident. An anomaly that she would soon forget. Something she’s working on as soon as she enters her apartment. The kitchen and living room are empty as she sneaks down the hall towards the bathroom.
Half an hour later, she steps out of the shower, finally ridding herself of the alpha stunk that had clung to her skin from her night with Kate. She exits the bathroom in shorts and the t-shirt she had stolen from Kate’s dresser. In the kitchen, Ana, Oksana and Sonya are sitting at the table when Yelena enters, searching for food. Ana and Sonya grin up at her, their delighted expressions already exacerbating the headache she feels forming. Oksana is bent over a textbook across from them, her side profile to Yelena.
“What happened to your no alpha rules, Lena?” Ana asks, coffee mug poised in her hands right before she takes a sip. Yelena must’ve not been as thorough in the shower as she had thought. Or maybe she should’ve chosen a different shirt other than Kate’s high school archery state championship shirt.
“It was just a one night stand,” Yelena says, a grimace firm on her face as she pours what’s left of the coffee pot into her favorite mug, a gift Natasha had got her from Budapest. “A one off. It won’t gonna happen again.”
“Sure, Lena,” Sonya says, eyes trailing over the screen of her phone as a smug grin crosses her lips. Yelena’s scowl deepens. “I mean it,” she says although she should know arguing with them at this point is futile.
“We believe you,” Oksana says, face still bent over her textbook, highlighter in hand.
“Sure, we do,” Ana says.
“You guys are being annoying,” Yelena says. “And you used all the milk.”
“Sorry,” Sonya says, shrugging and not looking the least bit contrite.
Just as she’s thinking her morning couldn’t get any more bothersome, Natasha calls her. Which isn’t in and of itself a usually annoying event. But what she asks of Yelena is.
“Come on, you love Laura and the kids,” Natasha says over the phone as Yelena tries to scrounge up some breakfast from the leftovers in the fridge.
“I do. But Clint Barton annoys me. And you know I don’t like dressing up and giving up my Saturdays.”
“They’re in town for only two days, Lena. And they really want to see you. Even Clint.”
“Liar.”
“Well, his wife and kids want to see you. That’s close enough. Nate misses his Aunt Lena.”
Yelena groans, already knowing she’s going to acquiesce before she verbalizes it. Natasha knows too. She’d never pass up an opportunity to gang up on Clint Barton with the help of his children, especially Nate. He understood her in a way that was unparalleled, maybe because he was named after Natasha.
“Fine,” Yelena says, displeasure evident in her voice. But she could already see Natasha’s victorious smile in her head. It was obnoxious. “But I’m wearing what I want and I get to sit next to Nate.”
“Deal,” Natasha says. “Oh, also, Clint’s bringing the new Hawkeye to dinner too.”
“New Hawkeye?”
“Yeah, you know, his little protégé. Hawkeye in training.”
“Oh, right. the fangirl.” Yelena had heard bits and pieces about the so-called new Hawkeye, mainly from Natasha. The business of Clint Barton and his superhero namesake held no interest to her.
“Yeah, so be nice.”
“I’m always nice,” Yelena says.
Natasha’s laugh crackles loudly through the phone. “You’re never nice,” she says.
“If they’re a Clint Barton Jr., then you can hardly blame me.”
“Lena.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll be on my best behavior.” Granted, Yelena wasn’t the biggest fan of Clint Barton, but she was still mostly civil whenever they interacted. It was the least she could do given he was Natasha’s best friend. He wasn’t that bad but still, Yelena couldn’t resist poking fun at him. Both him and Natasha took themselves too seriously, especially with the avenging. They needed to be knocked down a peg or two sometimes. And who else was going to do it but Yelena?
“Good,” Natasha says. She hears rustling on the other end of the phone before Natasha speaks again. “Have you talked to mom or dad recently?”
“Not since last week,” she says. “Why?”
Yelena typically talked to her parents once a week, at most. Their relationship was complicated but they had been supportive and caring the last few years, there for Yelena or Natasha whenever they needed them. But still, even with all the love that had resurfaced and blossomed between them, they were still a lot to handle on good days.
“Mom called, asking why you don’t call her anymore.”
Yelena scoffs, rolling her eyes even though she knows Natasha can’t see her. “I talked to dad last week.”
“She knows. She says you talk to dad but not her because he’s your favorite.”
“That’s not true, they annoy me equally.”
“Well she told me to tell you to call her.”
“Why doesn’t she just call me?”
“She says you don’t answer her calls.”
“I answer her sometimes.”
Natasha sighs. “Whatever, this isn’t my problem. I’m just telling you what she told me.”
They bicker back and forth for a few more minutes before finally hanging up. Yelena loves her sister. She loves her whole family. But they still manage to annoy her like nobody else.
***
As Yelena makes herself another omelet (her night with Kate had left her famished), her mind keeps wandering back to a naked and ruined Kate. As hard as she tries, she keeps getting bombarded with images of a writhing Kate Bishop, whimpering like a puppy as Yelena rode her until her thighs gave out. The satisfaction she felt each and every time Kate came was euphoric, nearly matching her own repeat orgasms. Yelena hates to say that its the best sex she’s ever had. But it’s true. But it’s not that big of an achievement considering she could count the number of sexual encounters she had had on one hand. What her mind is really stuck on is how docile Kate was in bed, how easily she ceded control to Yelena. Each time Kate asked her if she was okay, checking in on her periodically throughout the night, she was struck with surprise. What struck her worse was the belief that if Yelena ever answered Kate’s questions in the negative, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Kate would stop immediately, without any qualms. It was annoying how much that endeared her to Yelena. She was sweet. In a way that burrowed under her skin and left her itchy and unsettled. It made Yelena want to shower again, scrub whatever traces of Kate were still staining her.
***
After breakfast, Oksana leaves for work and Ana and Sonya leave for a class they had together. Yelena gets started on her assigned reading. Her major at the moment was English. Something safe she had chosen solely based on the fact that Yelena was a voracious reader. And it helped that it was a major Natasha made fun of, not understanding how she could pick to study a language she was already fluent in. But Yelena found she actually loved literature and poetry. It was an impractical field of study. But nothing about her life had been practical thus far. Plus, she had chosen the major for herself and that was enough. She didn’t have a plan quite yet for her life but she enjoyed where she was at the moment. Which was more than she could say for her the majority of her life up until then.
She spends a while in her thick anthology of the complete works of Emily Dickinson before she realizes she’s read the same line for the past couple of minutes. Her mind keeps wandering towards a certain alpha with an annoying amount of charm and restraint and, apparently, a love of submission.
Yelena wasn’t in heat. Wouldn’t be for another week. But still, she could feel a certain wetness gathering between her legs at the memory of her night with Kate. She had never spent her heat with an alpha. Chemical suppressants had taken care of that. The red room was a purveyor of the strongest, military grade suppressants, not legal for use on children in most places around the world. But neither was being a child assassin. Their instructors were adamant that knotting made one sloppy, that heats and their biological need for satisfaction slowed them down, made them weak and distracted. The pills made them drowsy for a few hours, with disrupted sleep, and maybe a mild headache. But they did what they were made for and none of the widows felt true heat pains until after the fall of the red room; after Yelena had defected. Her first heat after she had been freed had been brutal. A grueling pain twisted in her stomach for almost five days straight. She spent most of the time curled up in a sweaty ball in a hotel room while Natasha kept watch on the other side of her door, only entering the room to take a wet towel to her forehead and feed her when she needed it. There were over the counter heat suppressants that worked half as well with more side effects. They usually had to be in your system for at least two weeks for them to truly work but Yelena made do with what she had at her disposal. She would not submit to an alpha ever. She would never submit to anyone ever again.
Her heats made her primal, victim to the whims of her body and biology, and that was already enough to deal with. She couldn’t take an alpha too. She knew, logically and scientifically, an alpha’s knot expedited a heat. Made what could painfully last three to five days into one. Took care of cramps and the pain. But Yelena had made it by just fine with cheap heat suppressants and the occasional beta when she got real desperate the last few years.
Kate had been the first alpha Yelena had ever had sex with. Of course, she didn’t tell her that. She didn’t want her to get a bigger head than she already had. Plus, it didn’t matter. Like she had told her roommates, Kate was a one off. An anomaly. Everyone had their slip ups. Yelena had hers and now she was content to spend her next heat alone as she usually did. It was better that way.
Even if Kate weren’t an alpha, she wasn’t a girl Yelena could possibly have anything more than a single, passing fling with. Yelena didn’t want anything more than a single, casual encounter but, if she did, it sure wouldn’t be with Kate Bishop. A born and bred rich girl who’d already made her way through most of the women’s studies department and represented everything Yelena loathed on principle. She didn’t need that in her life. They came from completely different backgrounds. Kate was all easy smiles, endless charm, and obscene wealth. From what little time they had spent together, Yelena could tell that Kate still had a naïve, idealist view of the world, similar to that of a child. The kind of kid Yelena used to be before cold harsh reality had come calling on her door.
No, her and Kate could never happen. Yelena doesn’t even know why she was giving it anymore than a fleeting thought. Kate was like taffy in the crevices of her brain, difficult to remove and irritatingly sweet.
With her arousal still prominent and bothersome between her legs, another train of thought started blossoming. She hates herself for it but she had already crossed one of the lines she had drawn for herself. Maybe Yelena could swear off all alphas except for one. Maybe Kate Bishop could be the exception. She hates to say that she felt satiated in a way that she never had before. But she did. It did more than the cheap suppressants ever did for her.
No, that a dumb train of thought. No, she told herself. She would never see Kate Bishop again. Not if she could help it.
***
Yelena is in search of a step stool. There’s a shocking lack of them in the section of the library she happens to be hidden in. But she needs a book on the top most shelf, a good foot or so above her reach, and there is not a metal stool in sight. Yelena contemplates climbing the shelves. She could do it. She’s climbed more arduous objects with higher stakes. She puts one foot onto the bottom shelving unit, in between two collections of the poetry of E.E Cummings, testing the sturdiness of the metal. She grips the third shelf, about ready to hoist herself up, when she hears footsteps behind her. She whips around fast enough that Kate Bishop visibly jumps when she turns to face her.
“Kate Bishop.”
“Hi,” she smiles, grinning widely in a way that makes her nervousness obvious to Yelena. Which wasn’t hard considering she had mastered body language by the time she was twelve. “Are you trying to reach a book?” Kate walks toward her, glancing up at where Yelena had been reaching before. “I can grab something for you if you want.”
Yelena’s face, for some inexplicable reason, grows hot as Kate glances down at her. “I couldn’t find a stool,” she says.
“What book do you need?” Kate asks, staring up at the highest shelf. She’s only a few inches taller than Yelena but still, her broad shoulders manage to make it seem as if she towered over her as Yelena watches the tendons in her neck and shoulders twist. Yelena had sucked a swath of bruises along those very same spots on her body not even a week before.
Yelena, as Natasha was fond of saying (she loved American idioms), was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She rattled off the title and author and watched as Kate balanced onto her tiptoes to pull the edge of the book out from the top shelf, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she did so. Yelena, for some god forsaken reason, watches her hands as they grip the spine of the book, and feels her whole body flush. She presents the book to Yelena with a little noise of victory and grins like a fool. Yelena takes the book before she can do something stupid like smile in return. Kate stares at her for a moment, rubbing at the back of her neck and looking like she’s preparing to say something. Yelena can assume what it is.
“Hey, I-” Yelena brushes past her before she can finish. This is what she got for accepting kindnesses from people who were basically strangers. This is what she got for fucking around in an alpha’s bed and thinking it could just be one time fun. No, of course, Yelena would fuck the one alpha who wanted something more than a quick f-
“Hey, wait up,” Kate calls after her, trying to keep her voice down as she hurries to catch up with Yelena which wasn’t hard considering her legs were longer. Yelena begrudges her small legs and stupid libido. “Yelena-”
“I know what you are going to ask, Kate Bishop. And the answer is no.”
“But I-”
“Let me finish.” Yelena had to be firm. She felt a sliver of remorse but she had to make sure that Kate heard what she was about to say. “What we did the other night was fun but it was a one night thing and it won’t happen again. Understood?”
Kate frowns but nods.
“Good.”
“Can I speak now?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, well, what I actually was gonna say was that you know you left your bra at my apartment and I was wondering if you wanted it back?” She says. “It looked kinda expensive. Nice material.”
Yelena is thankful for all years of widow training that taught her how to keep her composure even under the most stressful of situations. If her face was as flushed as she felt, she doesn't think she’d be able to come back from that. “No, you can keep it.”
“Cool,” Kate says, nodding. “I’ll treasure it as a reminder of our time together since it’ll never happen again.”
Yelena’s expression remains stoic to ward off any possible perception of embarrassment on her part but Kate still laughs anyway. It’s both a horrible and lovely sound. “Come on, it’s funny,” Kate says.
“Thank you for the book, Kate Bishop.” Yelena slides passed Kate, eager to leave this conversation that’s already gone on for far too long.
“Hey, come on.” Kate’s long legs easily catch up with Yelena again. “Listen, yeah, I would definitely ask you out if you didn’t already give off major don’t fuck with me vibes.”
“That didn’t stop you the other night.”
“The other night you were flirting with me.”
“Was I?”
“You were.” Kate’s lips curl downwards. “I’m pretty sure, at least.”
“Hmm.” Yelena continues walking, Kate’s footsteps trailing behind her. Yelena should tell her to go away but she doesn’t. She knows Kate would leave without resistance. “Is this for a class?” Kate asks, gesturing down at her book.
Against Yelena’s better judgment, she indulges Kate’s question. “Yes.”
“Cool.” Kate nods her head as she falls in step beside Yelena. “Which one?”
Yelena quirks a brow but keeps walking. She slows her steps, not in much of a hurry anymore. “Queer literature.”
“With Professor Colan?”
Yelena furrows her brow, glancing at Kate. “Yes.”
“Oh, I loved that class,” she says. “The unit on The Color Purple was my favorite.”
“Aren’t you a business major?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you take an English seminar?”
Kate shrugs. “It sounded interesting. I don’t only have to take econ and marketing classes.”
She has a point but Yelena is already done with the conversation. She had come to the library for a reason and the longer she allows herself to talk to Kate, the more she feels herself forgetting that reason. “As thrilling as it was talking to you, Kate Bishop, I must study.”
“Me too!” she says, far too loud for the library. Somebody in the next row over shushes her through the stack of books. She sends them an apologetic grin before glancing back at Yelena. “Do you maybe wanna study together?”
“No,” she says. “You’re gonna distract me, I already know.”
Kate nods. “Fair, I have been known to be quite distracting.”
Yelena shakes her head with an exhale that’s equal parts amusement and disbelief. The more time spent with Kate, the more Yelena could see the stereotypical alpha aspects she had missed the first time around. It would be disconcerting if she hadn’t already fucked Kate into unconsciousness only a few days prior.
“We won’t be having sex again, like I said,” Yelena says. She doesn’t know if it's more for Kate’s benefit or her own.
“Yeah, I heard you loud and clear. And I’m totally okay with that, completely,” Kate says. “But maybe we can be friends?”
Yelena almost laughs. But, barely restraining herself, she only lets a smile grace her lips. “Goodbye, Kate.”
“Is that a no?”
Kate doesn’t follow her. Yelena can’t help smiling to herself as she walks away, Kate still mumbling to herself behind her. It’s a little while later, several chapters into the dusty volume Kate had plucked for her, before Yelena realizes that she referred to Kate only by her first name.
***
Natasha picks Yelena up from her apartment a half hour before they’re supposed to meet the Bartons. Natasha had gotten them reservations at some fancy restaurant as a treat for Clint and Laura Barton’s upcoming wedding anniversary. Yelena wasn’t sure why she went for the fancy restaurant when she was sure the kids and herself would be fine eating greasy food at any diner (which she voiced only to be met with an eye roll).
She wears a simple dress, casual but formal enough for the restaurant’s dress code. Yelena makes her distaste known for any food place that offered a dress code to which Natasha, mature as always, stuck out her tongue.
They arrive five minutes before the Barton’s since Natasha and Yelena always liked to be the first ones to arrive anywhere. It’s a brief reunion before they’re quickly shepherded to their table. Like promised, she’s seated beside Nate, who also fought for the spot beside her, with Natasha on her other side.
The chair left empty between Clint and Lila confuses Yelena. But then she remembers Natasha mentioning Clint’s little protégé. She’s poised to ask about her, her lips parting to do so, before they’re clamped shut at the sight of the person walking up behind Lila. Who hasn’t seemed to notice her yet with her hurried movements.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Kate says, a glimmer of sweat along her hair line and an almost imperceptible flush on her cheeks. Luckily, her suit doesn’t appear to be as ruffled as she is; a crisp, black two piece that flatters Kate in a way Yelena can’t help but find irritating.
Clint gestures for her to sit between him and Lila. Kate is stepping around Lila’s chair to do so when she finally looks up to see Yelena across the table. Her eyes are wide, surprise clear in her face. For a brief moment, Yelena hopes Kate will pretend that they don’t know each other, that she’ll carry on as if they were perfect strangers. But all her hopes are dashed as soon as Kate opens her mouth.
“Yelena?”
***
“You guys know each other?”
“Yes.”
“Not really.”
“I mean-”
Thankfully, the universe decides to take pity on them for that moment. A waiter comes, asking for any drinks or appetizers to start. Orders for soda, juice, scotch (Natasha) and vodka (Yelena) are taken. Silence falls over the table when the waiter leaves.
“So how do you guys know each other?” Laura asks, an innocuous smile on her face, oblivious to the chaos going on inside of Kate’s head.
All Kate can come up with is: “Um.”
Clint raises a brow, studying her with curious eyes. But Yelena recovers much more quickly and saves Kate from the embarrassment of having to come up with a suitable lie on the spot.
“School,” Yelena says. “We’ve seen each other at a party or two.”
“Yup, totally,” Kate says, nodding empathically. “That is factually correct.” Yelena squints her eyes and quirks her mouth at her, as if to say what the hell is wrong with you? And Kate is thinking the exact same thing at that moment. Clint’s gaze flicks back and forth between them, as does Natasha’s. Kate hates to see the suspicious gleam in their eyes.
“Oh, well, that’s nice,” Laura says. “What a coincidence that you guys go to the same school.”
Kate and Yelena speak at the same time.
“My mom was an alum.”
“It was the closest one to my apartment.”
“You go to parties?” Natasha asks. “You hate parties.”
Yelena shrugs. “I go to parties sometimes.”
Natasha’s eyes swing from Yelena to Kate. She gulps. “You’ve seen my sister at these supposed parties?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Kate says, glancing at Yelena. “Sometimes.”
“Hmm,” she says, bringing her glass to her lips as she maintains eye contact with Kate. She gulps again, reaching for own glass with the sudden dryness in her throat.
“So, Kate,” Laura breaks in, ending what feels like a weird interrogation. “How are your classes?”
Kate has never been more thankful for a topic change. She uses it to ramble on about her business classes which leads into how Bishop Security is doing which leads to her mom and the wedding. She tries not to stare at Yelena the whole time she speaks. It takes an astounding amount of self-control not to glance at her once while conversing with Laura.
***
A little while after sitting down, Kate leaves to go to the bathroom. Once she leaves the stall, she finds Yelena standing across from her along the row of sinks, arms crossed and a displeased look on her face. “You’re Clint’s protégé,” she says. It comes out like an accusation. “Hawkeye jr.”
Kate doesn’t let her defensive instinct win. She knows when she’s being baited. Instead, she goes to wash her hands, calm and collected as she counts to twenty in her head. “Actually, I prefer just Hawkeye.”
“You didn’t tell me you were Barton’s protégé.”
“I didn’t know you were Natasha’s sister,” she says, keeping her tone steadier than she felt as she washes her hands. “How could I’ve known that?”
Yelena only rolls her eyes as if this whole thing was somehow Kate’s fault. Kate suddenly notices how close they’re standing to one another. And the shape of her dress. “You look pretty,” Kate says. Because why not? They’ve already have sex. Who was she kidding trying to play it cool after Yelena had already fucked her into her own mattress to the point of exhaustion?
Kate gets lost in the gold-green of her eyes, glinting under the overhead light, until Yelena breaks contact. She turns her head to face the mirror along the wall, clearing her throat. “I know,” she says, running her hands over her dress. Kate’s eyes follow the movement, tracing her curves like Yelena’s hands until the same hand is gripping Kate’s chin. She angles Kate’s head up until their gazes connect again. “Eyes up here, Kate Bishop,” she says.
“Okay,” Kate says. But her eyes flicker down to Yelena’s lips. They linger for a second before they find her eyes again. Hazel green and slightly amused. “Seriously, you look gorgeous.”
Yelena rolls her eyes. “Compliments will not get me to kiss you again. Especially in a public restroom.”
“I wasn’t trying to- That’s not-”
“Don’t act coy, Kate Bishop. It does not look cool.”
“Fine.” Kate’s eyes flicker back down to Yelena’s lips. “I wanna kiss you again.”
Yelena’s eyes darken ever so slightly. Her forehead just barely grazes Kate’s as the space between them lessens. “I know you do,” she says.
“Can I?”
“No.” She pulls back, turning towards the mirror again. The scent of her still lingers after she turns away, filling Kate’s lungs. Yelena grips the edge of the sink, looking at her reflection rather than Kate. “Leave. I’ll be out behind you in five minutes.”
Kate hates that the bossy thing does it for her. But she’s always had a thing for bitchy, demanding women with control issues (she had already accepted her mommy issues, thank you very much). When she gets back to the table, their food is just arriving. Natasha is watching her and Kate pretends she doesn’t notice. She keeps up the façade when Yelena walks back from the bathroom exactly five minutes after her. Kate turns to talk to Lila about her upcoming Homecoming dance, pretending she can’t feel Natasha glancing between her and Yelena.