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Chapter Text

“Are you okay?” Yelena asks. Kate stands in front of her bedroom mirror, looking over her tux as she fiddles with the bow tie hanging around her neck. They still had an hour before they actually had to be at the venue, an ancient and beautiful building her mom had paid an exorbitant amount of money to rent. 

“I’m just a bit nervous, I guess? I don’t know.” Kate shakes her head as if the nerves could fly off of her like water drops. 

Yelena stands behind her, hands running up the lapel of her suit until they rest on top of her shoulders. The dress she wears is a simple, maroon number that hugs every curve of her body that Kate adores. “You feel tense.”

“Yeah, I just want everything to go over smoothly for my mom,” Kate says, fidgeting with her cufflinks. “She deserves this.”

Yelena hums, pressing her chest into Kate’s back. “I have an idea on how to help you relax.”

“Oh?” Kate looks up, catching Yelena’s mischievous eyes in the reflection of the mirror. 

Yelena grins, stepping back. She moves until she stands in front of Kate, between her and the mirror. She hasn’t put her heels on yet so Kate has to lean down to meet her lips. She breaks the kiss, hands resting against Kate’s stomach.

“Don’t move, okay?” Yelena says. And with that, Kate watches her sink to her knees, the hem of her dress riding up to the tops of her thighs. Her stomach dips at the sight. 

“Shit,” She mutters. Yelena smirks up at her, holding her gaze as she undoes the fly of Kate’s pants. She slides Kate’s pants and underwear down to pool around her ankles. “Already hard for me?” Yelena asks, smirking as she takes Kate into her hand. She shudders as Yelena trails a slew of soft pecks along the side of her shaft. Teasing her. 

Kate holds her breath as Yelena’s lips brush over her tip. They linger for a few moments before Yelena leans forward, taking the first few inches of Kate’s cock into her mouth. Kate inhales shakily, air rushing back into her lungs. All thoughts of anything else besides Yelena’s mouth fly out of her head. 

She whimpers at the feel of Yelena’s tongue, swirling around her tip, as her hand strokes the rest of her length. She watches in awe as Yelena’s lips gradually slide closer and closer. Until they reach the base of Kate’s cock. A guttural groan rumbles out from her chest. Her hands have been clenched at her side the whole time, stiff and almost forgotten. Yelena grasps Kate’s right hand, eyes closed as she pulls back slightly. She moves Kate’s hand to the back of her hair which, luckily, has yet to be styled. Yelena moans around Kate as she weaves her hand through the blonde strands.

“Jesus, fuck,” Kate says, peering down at Yelena. The sight of her cock disappearing into her mouth is almost as good as the actual feeling of being enveloped by her cheeks and tongue. It’s unparalleled each and every time Yelena does it. Her mouth is greedy and skilled. Makes Kate feel as if she’s being swallowed whole.

Yelena moves to take her in deeper and Kate throws her head back, hands fisting in Yelena’s hair, as she lets out a series of weak moans. Lowering her head, Kate’s gaze lands on the mirror across from them. Reflecting the whole scene back at Kate. Her hand tangled in Yelena’s hair. The back of Yelena’s head, bobbing between Kate’s legs with each lick and suck. Without thinking, Kate’s grip tightens. Yelena moans are muffled by Kate’s length in her mouth. Her hands slide along Kate’s thighs until they’re gripping her ass, pulling her in so Kate pokes the back of Yelena’s throat. 

“Yelena!” Kate cries, watching their movements intently in the mirror as she moves both of her hands to grip Yelena’s head. The back and forth of Yelena’s head has Kate’s knees buckling. Without meaning to, Kate bucks forward. The vibration from Yelena’s moans and the nails digging into her backside are the only indication she gets that her movements are welcomed. Gingerly, Kate thrusts forward again. She’s rewarded with another series of moans that land in her gut, adding to the tightness slowly brewing at the base of her spine. 

Yelena’s hands on her ass are the only things keeping her upright. 

“Yelena, I’m gonna-Fuck, I’m gonna-” Kate doesn’t get to finish her sentence. Her words break off into a loud, broken moan as she comes, trembling above Yelena. She swallows as much as she can, sustaining Kate’s orgasm, and still managing to hold her up even as she nearly collapses. 

Kate is still trying to catch her breath when Yelena shifts, letting Kate slip out of her mouth. A smudge of Kate’s come sits at the edge of her mouth, the little bit that she didn’t manage to swallow. She glances up at Kate, holding her gaze, as she licks at the corner of her mouth. There’s a stray bit she just barely misses, further down her chin. She brings her hand up, wiping away the streak with her thumb. With her eyes still on Kate, she slips her thumb into her mouth, moaning. 

“You taste good, Kate Bishop,” she says. 

And Kate can’t really help herself after that. “Fuck,” she says as she reaches for Yelena. She tugs her up until she’s wrapped in Kate’s arms, mouths slotted together. Her movements are frantic as she moves them towards the bed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Kate says, her nose brushing Yelena’s cheek. “You’re so fucking incredible.”

Her pants are still wrapped around her ankles as she sets Yelena along the edge of the bed. Kate pushes the hem of her dress up her thighs until her hands meet the lace of her underwear. “Don’t ruin the dress,” Yelena says, leaning back and widening her thighs for Kate. 

“Okay.” Kate slides the damp panties down Yelena’s leg. It catches on the toes of Yelena’s left foot and Kate doesn’t even bother wrestling it off the rest of the way. She doesn’t have the patience to deal with even a second of delay. Yelena’s hands reach for her shoulders as she lines herself up along her entrance. They moan into each other’s mouth as Kate sinks into her. Yelena’s legs wrap around her waist. Her feet dig into the small of Kate’s back, wrinkling the fabric of her suit jacket. 

“Don’t ruin the tux,” Kate says, panting into Yelena’s neck as she thrusts, fast and shallow, into her. They only have time for a quickie and even that was pushing it. Kate could guess that they would need a few extra minutes to freshen up again. 

“I’ll do whatever I want,” Yelena says, sliding her hands under Kate’s jacket. “You’re my alpha for the day, remember?”

Yelena is only kidding but still. Her words cause Kate to dip deeper into her, slamming her hips against Yelena’s. Her moan is high and whiny in Kate’s ears, only egging her on further. Kate rips the jacket off of her body, sweat beginning to collect underneath her dress shirt. She has a slew of similar dress shirts in her closet so she doesn’t worry as Yelena hands grip the back, pulling her closer. 

“Fuck,” Yelena pants. “You’re a good alpha.” She moves her hand to the collar of Kate’s shirt, sliding her fingers underneath to grip Kate’s neck. “You know that, Kate Bishop?”

Kate whines into her neck, quickening the rhythm of her hips. 

“Let me hear you say it.”

Kate only whines harder, too focused on the blinding pleasure building at the center of their bodies. Yelena’s other hand tangles into Kate’s hair, tugging her head back by the base of her skull. 

“Let me hear you say it,” Yelena says.

“I’m a good alpha.” The words are weak and barely coherent as Kate rocks against Yelena, her second orgasm within her sights. 

Yelena’s hand tightens along her scalp. Kate moans, on the verge of overstimulation. But there's no way in hell she was going to stop. “Say it again,” Yelena says. Her thighs tighten around Kate, bucking up to meet her thrusts. 

“I’m a good alpha.”

“Again.”

“I’m a good alpha.”

“Again.”

Yelena’s voice grows more breathless each time she repeats herself. She has Kate repeat it several more times until Kate is practically yelling, voice raw. Yelena doesn’t stop until they're both over the edge, flying violently into their orgasms. In the aftermath, they’re both shaking and Kate is missing three buttons from her shirt. Luckily, Yelena’s dress is only slightly wrinkled. Nothing the iron in Kate’s closet can’t fix. 

***

They’re only fifteen minutes late. By the time they get there, the wedding is still well over an hour away from starting. But Kate’s mom still gives her a disappointed frown when she enters the room where all the bridesmaids are gathered. She sits at the center of a long vanity mirror, women Kate vaguely recognized fretting about the room. She’s wrapped in a robe but her hair and makeup seem to be done. She looks beautiful, and Kate gears up to tell her so but-

“You’re late,” she says, brows furrowed. 

“Sorry,” Kate says, clearing her throat. “There was traffic.”

“What’s wrong with your shirt?”

“What do you mean what’s wrong with my shirt?” Kate glances down at the white dress shirt she had on underneath her jacket, nearly identical to the one Yelena had wrinkled beyond repair. Eleanor Bishop stands up from her seat, eyes scanning over Kate as she walks towards her. “That’s not the shirt we picked out for the groomsmen,” she says. 

“How can you even tell?” Kate asks. “This literally looks like the exact same shirt.”

“What happened to the other shirt?” Eleanor asks, crossing her arms over her chest. Suddenly, Kate feels eight years old, trying to explain to her mom why her favorite vase was in pieces on the kitchen floor. 

“I accidentally spilled juice on it,” Kate says, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. She hadn’t anticipated her mom actually noticing the difference. “I didn’t wanna freak you out on your big day so I just switched shirts. Not a big deal. No one will notice.” She steps forward, grinning as she takes her mom’s hands in her own. “You look amazing, no one will even be looking at me.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes but her lips curl up into a wide smile. “Ugh,” she sighs, shaking her head. “You’re just like your father, trying to distract me with sweet talk.”

“Is it working?”

She nods, her eyes getting a little misty. “Yeah, it always worked.” She steps back, looking Kate over again. “You look so handsome.”

“Thank you,” Kate says, running her hands down the front of her tux. “Is the shirt really that noticeable?”

Eleanor shakes her head. “No,” she says, laughing. “You look great. I’ve just been hyperfocused on every detail of this wedding, trying to make sure everything goes well.”

Kate puts a hand on her mom’s shoulder. “Do you need me to do anything?” she asks. “Get you anything?”

Eleanor shakes her head, bringing her hand up to cup Kate’s cheek. “No, sweetie, I’m alright,” she says. “All I need you to do is go be with Jack. I’m sure he’s more nervous than me right now if you can believe that.”

Kate laughs. “I can’t but I’ll go see him for myself.” She takes a step back towards the door, still facing her mom. “I’d hug and kiss you goodbye but I don’t wanna ruin your makeup.”

“I love you,” her mom calls after her. 

Kate turns around in the doorway, already halfway out the door. “Love you too,” she says, smiling. She feels a lot lighter than she did ten minutes ago. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

***

Once they arrive at the venue, Yelena convinces Kate to leave her in the main room where the chairs and altar had already been set up. “Are you sure?” she asks. 

“Yeah, go be with your mom,” Yelena says. “I can take care of myself for an hour. Just find me after.”

“Okay.” Kate presses a quick peck to Yelena’s cheek. “I’ll find you after, okay? Call or text me if you need anything.” And with that, she races down the hall to wherever her mother was supposed to be. They were fifteen minutes late. Going down on Kate had only given her half an hour of calm before Kate started to freak out again. Yelena had never seen her so anxious and flustered. She wouldn’t stop fidgeting in the taxi ride over, so much so that Yelena had to hold both of her hands to keep her from messing with her cufflinks and bowtie. But all that did was give her more room to bounce her knees. 

Yelena plops herself down into one of the many empty chairs at the farthest corner of the room. People scurry around the room, putting the finishing touches on the lavish set up. Fussing with flowers lining the walkway or carrying boxes of clinking bottles. It’s a frantic parade of florists, bartenders, waiters, photographers and the like that buzz in and out of the room. No one pays Yelena any attention which she’s grateful for. She’s no stranger to boredom or having to entertain herself for hours on end. 

Luckily, it’s not too long before other guests start to arrive. As more bodies start to fill the rows of chairs, Yelena switches seats. She situates herself at a spot closer to the front where she’ll be able to see Kate. 

By the time the wedding procession starts, Jack, who Yelena recognizes from stalking Kate’s social media, stands at the altar without Kate anywhere in sight. Yelena checks her phone. No missed calls or texts from Kate. Yelena isn’t worried but she is concerned. A concern that only grows with each bridesmaid and groomsman that make their way to the altar. 

A series of soft gasps cuts through the crowd. Heads pivot towards the entryway. Yelena has to crane her neck slightly to see. And when she does, she feels her heart slide up into her throat.  Kate stands arm in arm with her mom, escorting her down the aisle. Yelena isn’t normally one to let emotions get the best of her at weddings. But it’s a sweet sight. Made even sweeter by Kate’s presence. 

Eleanor Bishop is crying. But both her and Kate are smiling as they near the altar. Yelena hasn’t had a proper look at her since they rushed out of her apartment. But Kate looks as handsome and dashing as Yelena has ever seen her as she takes her place beside Jack. Her eyes scan over the crowd, searching. When they finally land on Yelena, Kate’s lips quirk upward, almost in a smirk, like she’s stopping herself from grinning as wide as she wants to. And she winks. 

***

Like Kate had promised, she finds Yelena briefly after the ceremony. But they get separated again as the party migrates to another floor for the reception, two of the bridesmaids informing Kate that they needed her help with something.

“I’ll find you again, yeah?” Kate says, already being tugged in another direction.

Yelena nods, smiling. “I’ll be waiting, Kate Bishop.”

And Yelena had been waiting for fifteen minutes. Not an unreasonable amount of time to be standing by herself. But enough time for strangers to feel compelled to approach her.

A willowy blonde who had been eyeing Yelena for the past few minutes finally walks up to her. Yelena sighs inwardly. Reminds herself that this was Eleanor Bishop's wedding and that she wasn’t allowed to accost the guests. 

“Hi,” she says, extending a hand towards. “I’m Missy. I heard you were Kate’s date?”

Yelena feigns as polite of a smile that she can manage. “Yes,” she says, grasping her hand. Careful to not grip too hard. “Yelena.”

“Wow, I love your dress,” she says, eyes dipping downwards. 

The evening has gone from being mildly pleasant to unbearable. Yelena laments the fact that she wasn’t allowed to simply tell the girl to go away lest she risk offending someone and, therefore, offending Kate’s mother. Instead, she swallows the urge to tell the girl off. Just smiles and nods. “Thank you,” she says. And nothing else. She didn’t want to encourage any more painful small talk.

But Missy does not seem to take the hint. “So how long have you and Kate been dating?” she asks. There’s something about her eyes that Yelena doesn’t like. Something eager and calculated. 

“We’re not,” Yelena says, glancing around the room. Searching for a familiar head of dark hair and blue eyes. 

“You’re not?” She asks, folding her arms across her chest. “But I thought she brought you here?”

“Yes,” Yelena says, quickly losing patience with this girl. “But we’re not together.”

“Oh?”

“We’re just friends.” Just as those words leave her lips, Yelena finally finds Kate. She’s cutting around tables, glancing around the room. But her attention is demanded by Jack, calling out her name on the other side of the room. Reluctantly, Kate changes course towards Jack. 

“Oh. Well, is she single then?”

“No.” The word flies off her tongue before she can even fully process the question. Yelena is still tracking Kate. She stands across the room from her, chatting with Jack and some of the other groomsmen. 

“No?”

“I mean, yes,” Yelena says, turning back to face her. Yelena’s jaw tenses with each word she has to force out of her mouth. But she tries not to let her agitation show. “Technically, she is single, I suppose.”

Missy’s eyes light up, a pleased smile widening across her face. A nervous rage flares up in Yelena. When she glances at Kate, Yelena feels the need to forcibly turn her head away with her hands. Instead, she sips at the champagne flute in her hand. Something she had forgotten was in her grip until the glass was the verge of cracking within her fist. 

Yelena turns to ask Missy how she knows Kate but finds her gaze locked somewhere else. She follows it to Kate, looking every bit like a girl who could charm her way through whole departments of women. Yelena is left with a sour taste in her mouth at the look in Missy’s eyes. 

“Well, that’s good news,” she says. “I’m gonna go say hi. It was nice meeting you.” She doesn’t even glance at Yelena before crossing the room towards Kate. An awful discomfort settles in Yelena’s stomach as she watches her inch closer and closer until her hand grasps Kate’s shoulder. It’s a soft touch, just enough to get her attention. Kate offers her a polite but confused smile as Missy introduces herself. Her expression morphs into one of recognition and genuine warmth the longer they talk. The sight of it makes her heart drop just a little bit. I guess they do know each other . The words are bitter in Yelena’s head as she sips her champagne. 

“She’s something, isn’t she?” 

Yelena had been too occupied staring at Missy and Kate to notice someone had come to stand beside her. Glancing to her side, she sees it's the bride herself. Eleanor Bishop. Mother of Kate Bishop. Arguably, the most important person in Kate’s life and someone Yelena has never met before. 

“Excuse me?” Yelena asks. 

“Kate,” Eleanor says. Yelena follows her line of sight to her own where gaze had been moments ago. “She's amazing, isn’t she? I know it's a cliche for a parent to say their child is special but, well.” She smiles fondly, shaking her head. “My kid is actually pretty extraordinary. Braver and kinder than most, that’s for sure.”

“She is amazing,” Yelena says, eyes still focused on Kate. “And extraordinary.”

Eleanor turns towards her, giving her a smile. “You must be Yelena, my daughter’s date.”

“Friend,” Yelena says. Although it feels more like an act she’s putting on, a sad reflex of sorts, than the actual truth. “We’re just friends.”

“Of course,” Eleanor says, nodding. There’s a particular kind of understanding in her expression, as if she can sense the duplicity behind Yelena’s words. But Yelena just shrugs it off. She’s sure she’s just imagining things. 

Eleanor glances back towards Kate. “But you’re a special friend, right?”

“What?”

“My daughter doesn’t bring her friends around much. Hardly ever. So you must be pretty special to be invited to my wedding.”

Each word is calm and measured. But they’re dropped like a bomb onto Yelena who remains at a loss for words. But, before she can even attempt to respond, Eleanor continues. “She is special, my daughter. But she’s not without her flaws. Dense, hard headed, reckless.” Eleanor’s expression is somber but fond as she watches Kate. There’s so much love held in her eyes, Yelena almost wants to look away. “But she cares and loves harder than most people are capable of, than most people deserve even. She’s like her father in that way.”

Yelena doesn’t try to speak. She can tell Eleanor isn’t finished. “My daughter may like to think she’s indestructible. But she has a very gentle heart.” She glances back towards Yelena, meeting her gaze. “You know what I mean?”

“I think so.”

“I don’t want to see her hurt anymore than she’s already been, Yelena.”

“I understand.” Yelena doesn’t but she nods anyway. She didn’t want to risk irritating the bride on her wedding day by asking for clarification on what Yelena thinks is some kind of shovel talk. 

“Good. You seem like a nice girl. Just make sure my daughter’s heart stays intact, please.” Eleanor’s eyes hold a certain level of authority and sincerity that Yelena wasn’t expecting to encounter today. “She doesn’t know restraint or moderation. She throws herself fully into everything she’s ever put her mind to,” Eleanor says. “She doesn’t protect herself as often as she should.”

“Kate is one of the most extraordinary women I’ve ever met,” Yelena says, finally finding her voice. “You’re right to be proud. I’ve never met anybody like her.”

Eleanor smiles. And the seriousness of the past few minutes seems to melt away. “I have to go find my husband,” she says, stepping forward to rest a hand on Yelena’s shoulder. “But I hope to see you again, Yelena.”

“Congratulations,” Yelena says, raising her glass. “On your marriage.”

Eleanor nods her thanks before making her way across the room. Seconds after Eleanor leaves, Kate makes her way over to her. She glances at her mother’s retreating back. 

“What were you talking to my mom about?” she asks. 

Yelena plucks another flute of champagne off a waiter’s plate traveling past them. “You,” she says before throwing back the alcohol. It’s not nearly as strong as Yelena needs it to be but it’s something at least. 

“Me? What about me?”

“Your propensity for dangerous situations.”

“I haven’t even gotten into any trouble since last Christmas,” Kate says, rolling her eyes. 

“Have you never brought a girl home to meet your mother?” Yelena’s mind is still stuck on Eleanor referring to her as a special friend . Whatever that means. 

“No, not really,” Kate says, shrugging. “Once in high school, I think. But nothing after that. Why?”

“Your mom just said you usually never bring your friends around.”

The hint of a blush stains Kate’s cheeks. “Well, yeah, usually, my mom is a lot,” she says, sliding her hands into her pockets and glancing around the room. “But you’re tough. You can handle your own.”

“Who were you talking to?”

“What?” Kate asks. She follows Yelena’s line of sight to where Missy stands several feet away, talking with a gaggle of bridesmaids. “Oh, that’s Missy. She's a family friend. We used to hangout in the summers in the Hamptons when we were kids.”

“Hmm, sounds fun,” Yelena says, sipping her champagne. “She must be happy you grew up to be so handsome.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

***

The wedding passes by in a tiring flash of strangers introducing themselves to Yelena and vice versa. After an hour of that, she plants herself back in her assigned seat at their assigned table, counting the minutes until they can go home. She’s barely pulled out her phone to check the time when she notices movement in her peripheral. A blur of shape and color she immediately clocks as Kate. She turns her head and-

They're dancing. Yelena can’t believe it but her eyes are definitely showing Missy leading Kate onto the dance floor for one of the slower songs. Yelena could kill someone. A storm builds in her stomach, painful and raging. But beneath that is the smallest trace of a sorrow she does not want to nor is capable of dealing with right now. Anger is much more manageable. Yelena snatches another flute of champagne off one of the many trays circulating the room. It doesn’t mask the bitter taste in her mouth but it gives her something to do other than stare holes into the back of Kate’s head.

***

Kate is already working on undoing her tie when they enter her apartment. She’s barely loosened it before Yelena shoves her against the door, her tongue licking into her mouth. Kate groans into the kiss, confused but pleased with the turn of events. Her hands slide along Yelena’s body, gripping the fabric of her dress as she takes Kate’s lip between her teeth and tugs. She turns Kate around, hands on her shoulders, guiding her until her legs hit the edge of a chair. She almost hits the kitchen table as she falls into the seat. It’s low to the ground which makes it easy for Yelena’s heel to rest squarely between Kate’s spread thighs on the seat of the chair. Her foot just barely grazes the seam of her pants. But it’s enough for the heat between Kate’s legs to become unbearable. Yelena stands beside Kate, her thigh inches from her face while her hand rests on Kate’s shoulder for stability although Kate knows she doesn’t really need it. Kate turns her head, following the length of Yelena’s leg from her foot to where her dress had ridden up high along her thighs. That’s when she sees Yelena isn’t wearing any underwear.

“Fuck,” Kate says, panting already at the sight. 

Yelena chuckles. “You ruined my underwear before the wedding, remember?”

Kate groans, thinking back to Yelena on her knees for her. She wraps one hand around Yelena’s shin. The other grips her thigh as she leans to drop a kiss along the inside of her thigh. She hears Yelena inhale shakily above her. Feels her legs tense beneath her hands. She peppers a line of kisses further up her leg until the dampness between Yelena’s thighs warms her face. Her hand slides up to tangle in Kate's hair. Yelena’s grip tightens when Kate places a kiss between her legs. She lets out a moan. One that runs along the length of Kate’s shaft. 

With her hand in Kate’s hair, Yelena uses her grip to guide Kate’s mouth against her, using her for her own pleasure. And Kate can’t help but moan, already hard and aching between her own legs. She basks in the feeling of Yelena bucking against her mouth, riding her face for all she was worth. Kate’s hand slides up her leg, slipping under her dress to grip her ass. A pornographic cry leaves her mouth as Kate squeezes, pulling Yelena harder against her mouth, leaning into her thrusts. 

Yelena lets out a slew of Russian Kate doesn’t understand. Before Kate knows it, Yelena’s walls are clenching around her tongue. Kate laps at her, pulling Yelena as close as she can get. It’s a wonder how Kate can even breathe. Her tongue stays locked against Yelena’s clit, her thighs like tight ear muffs around Kate’s head, as Yelena convulses against her. 

Her body relaxes as the aftershocks of her orgasm fade. Kate only gets to lick at her twice more before Yelena pulls away. Her hands push Kate’s face away at the same time that her heel drops back to the floor. She takes a couple of steps back until her hips meet the kitchen table. Her hands grip the edge as she leans against it, facing Kate. Her chest heaves as she attempts to catch her breath, her dress still ridden up, showcasing inches of skin that Kate can’t take her eyes off of. A mixture of her own spit and Yelena’s wetness glitters under the overhead light, gathered along her inner thighs. The look in her eyes reminds Kate of the tension in her pants, her own arousal trapped beneath several layers of fabric, aching for release. 

“Come here,” Yelena says, voice low and hoarse. “I’m not done.”

Kate sheds the suit jacket still draped across her shoulders, tossing it onto the floor as she moves to stand from the chair. 

“No,” Yelena says. Kate immediately stops all movement, barely two inches over the seat. “On your knees,” she says. Her legs widen slightly, her dress rising up again. Just enough to show a hint of where Kate’s face had just been buried. 

Kate almost whimpers. She slides off the chair, lowering herself until her knees and shins are pressed against the tile floor. She scoots closer until Yelena’s center is barely an inch away from her face. Yelena’s fingers run along her scalp, gentle and tender. She angles Kate’s head upwards until she meets Yelena’s eyes. Hungry and elated above her. 

“Do you want to taste me?” she asks. 

“Yes,” Kate nods, Yelena’s fingers shifting with the movement. 

“Hmm,” she hums. Kate’s eyes flicker back to the mound of skin and moisture in front of her. She licks her lips, poised to move forward. But Yelena’s hand slides down to grip her chin, tilting her gaze back up. She barely restrains herself from letting out a whine. 

“Only one lick,” she says. “Just one.”

This time, Kate does whine. Yelena’s lips quirk up at the sound but she persists in her demand. “Only one,” she says. “You understand?”

Kate nods. Yelena’s hand drops away from her chin. Kate leans forward. Keeping in mind Yelena’s words, she pushes apart Yelena’s legs a few more inches. She dips her head and licks a slow stripe from the end of Yelena’s entrance to the top, adding extra pressure as her tongue drags over her clit. 

Yelena lets out a small moan, her knuckles tightening along the edge of the kitchen table. “Good,” she says, eyes still closed. “That's a good alpha.”

Kate preens at the praise, back straightening and her cock twitching in her pants as she rests on her shins again, waiting. 

Once Yelena opens her eyes again, she reaches back down towards Kate. Her palm cups Kate’s cheek as she stares down at her. “You’re so pretty like this,” she says. Her words are hot coals simmering in her gut, burning her from the inside out. “On your knees for me.”

Her hand falls away from Kate’s face. It returns to grip the table as Yelena leans back, still holding Kate’s gaze. “You want to taste me again?” she asks. 

Kate nods. 

“Don’t just nod,” Yelena says. “Speak. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Kate says, voice raw and shaky. 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want to taste you.”

Yelena smiles, her hand coming back to Kate’s scalp, running softly through her hair. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, маленький ястреб.”

The nickname zaps at the tip of Kate’s cock. Still painfully erect and begging for attention. “Please,” Kate says. “Please, let me taste you.” Yelena’s hands are still gentle along her scalp even as Kate shakes under her desire for her. “Yelena, please.”

Her hands tighten almost imperceptibly. “Have any of your other omegas ever seen you like this?”

Kate whimpers. She’s so sensitive that the friction of her slacks against her crotch could get her off if she tried hard enough. 

“Have you ever begged for anyone like this before?” Yelena’s grip has gone from tender to rough, fisting Kate’s hair at the root. Kate hisses, her eyes shutting as pain and pleasure mix along her nerve endings. Setting off little fires throughout her body. The hand in Kate’s hair tugs her head back. Kate gets the message and opens her eyes. She finds Yelena’s own green-hazel eyes bearing down on her, heat and danger crackling within them.

“No,” Kate says, swallowing thickly. “Just for you.”

It must be the right thing to say. The next thing Kate knows, Yelena's spreading her legs and she’s being pulled against her. Kate latches onto her center without thinking, lapping at the wetness that’s accumulated, and groaning at the taste. Yelena moans, arching against her. Her hips pressing hard against Kate’s face. 

Kate pushes up against Yelena. She wraps her arms around Yelena’s thighs, holding them firm as she pushes her onto the kitchen table, drinking her up like it’s the last time. Yelena falls back against the table with a breathy moan. Her hands leave Kate’s hair to grip the edge of the table above her head, knocking several books and cups to the ground along the way. 

“Kate,” Yelena pants, rolling her hips against her mouth. “Fuck.”

Kate shifts,  the hardness of the floor weighing on her knees. But she remains kneeling in front of Yelena, stuck in that position. You’d have to kill her to get her to move. Yelena’s arousal coats her mouth, dribbling down her chin. Kate wants to drown in it. 

Kate puts her knowledge of Yelena’s body, of her likes and dislikes, to good use. She stretches her arm to bring her thumb to Yelena’s clit. Circles it in soft, short motions in the way she likes. At the same time, Kate dips her tongue inside of her, swallowing even more dampness as it floods her mouth. Yelena’s walls flutter around her and Kate can tell she’s close. She's gonna come again. The knowledge reminds Kate of the situation between her own legs. There’s a familiar tightening in her own gut that catches her by surprise. Kate’s close too. And she hasn’t even been touched yet. 

“Kate,” Yelena moans. More Russian spews from her lips. None that Kate can understand but the frantic rock of her hips lets her know that Yelena is almost there. Kate increases the flicks of her tongue, moving her neck with Yelena’s thrusts to take her over the edge. 

As Yelena rides out her climax along Kate’s face with a broken cry, Kate follows her over the edge. Her own pleasure builds from the base of her crotch, up through her body, like lightning striking the ground as she trembles against Yelena. Their moans mix and feed into one another. 

Even as her orgasm tapers off, incoherent Russian continues to fall from Yelena’s mouth, something that happens during her more intense orgasms. Her thighs relax within Kate’s grip. Kate places one last kiss against her clit before rising to her feet. Yelena glances up at her. Her hair is matted to one side of her forehead, sticking up in uneven clumps, while the hem of her dress has ridden up all the way to her stomach. Kate just stares for a few moments. It’s hard for her to catch her breath when looking at Yelena. Especially when she looks like that. 

Yelena’s eyes trail over Kate until they land on the damp blotch decorating the front of her pants, darker than the rest of the fabric. Her brows furrow in confusion before her eyes swing back up to Kate. “What is that?” she asks. Her voice is still thick and low from her previous cries. 

“Oh, I, uh-” Kate brings a hand up to rub at the back of her neck, heating blooming up her cheeks. “-I finished.”

“You came in your pants?” Yelena asks, quirking a brow. The heat on Kate’s face intensifies. 

“Yes,” she says, holding Yelena’s gaze. Kate would normally feel much more shame and embarrassment if she had came in her pants. But it’s hard to feel anything other than satiated and euphoric at the sight of Yelena spread out along her kitchen table. Kate’s saliva, the imprints of her hands, and Yelena’s own wetness staining her skin. Kate can feel herself grow hard again at the sight. Her erection is obvious as it tents the front of her slacks. She glances up at Yelena only to find her eyes locked onto the bulge. Looking hungry.  

She shifts onto her elbows, leaning up slightly as her eyes fly up to meet Kate’s. “Come here,” she says. 

Kate doesn’t need to be told twice. The rest of the contents on the table (Yelena’s books, Kate’s archery magazines, empty cartons of takeout) get shoved off of the surface as Kate slides onto the tabletop. It’s barely big enough to fit the whole length of Kate’s body. Her shins dangle off the edge but it doesn’t matter. Her knees find leverage against the hard surface as she meets Yelena’s lips. They moan into each other’s mouth at the first experimental buck of Kate’s hips. 

“Off,” Yelena says. “Pants off.”

“Okay,” Kate says. She attempts to slide off her slacks without getting off the table but they simply pool around her hips. Kate becomes cognizant of the fact that she’s still wearing her shoes and dress shirt. 

“For fucks sake,” Yelena says. With impatient hands, she reaches between their bodies, pushing down Kate’s boxer briefs until her cock flies out, hitting Kate’s stomach. Yelena grasps her length. Kate moans, holding herself gingerly above Yelena, as she lines Kate up along her entrance. Without waiting another second, Kate slides into her. 

They cry out in unison. Yelena’s hands grip Kate’s shoulder blades, pulling her closer as Kate rocks against her. With each movement, little noises fall out of her mouth that set Kate’s skin  ablaze. Kate feels like she’s on drugs, hooked on Yelena’s pleasure and chasing it as fast and deep as her body allows. They’re both wearing too many clothes. Yelena’s dress cuts off any access to her breasts. And Yelena seems to be thinking the same as she reaches up towards Kate’s collar, attempting to undo the top few buttons. She only gets three undone before she gives up and just pulls Kate’s down to her mouth. In lieu of skin on skin contact, Yelena takes to nibbling on the skin that’s within her reach. She leaves a trail of bruises along Kate’s collarbone and the top of her chest. Kate pants above her, quickening her thrusts. 

Yelena’s walls tighten around her. Her nails dig into the skin at the back of Kate’s neck as her orgasm creeps up on them. She tosses her head back, exposing her neck and letting out a slew of curses. Kate has a powerful urge to sink her teeth deep in the flesh on display beneath her. But she shakes off that desire. She knows it’s just pheromones talking. Probably.

“Look at me,” Kate says. But Yelena’s head remains tilted backward as she writhes underneath Kate, attempting to meet her thrusts. Kate drops her hips especially hard, slamming into Yelena. She lets out a sharp cry, arching up against Kate. “Look at me,” Kate says, slowing her hips to a slow grind. “I wanna look at you.” Yelena whines but finally opens her eyes. They’re disoriented and frustrated when they finally meet Kate’s gaze. At the same time, Yelena’s walls squeeze around Kate. 

“Fuck,” she says, snapping her hips forward. Yelena yelps but keeps her eyes open, locked onto Kate’s. “You’re gorgeous.” The wood creaks beneath them, feeling the strain of their bodies. But fuck it, Kate'll just buy another table. She can’t imagine stopping. Even if the table collapses underneath them. 

With her eyes on Yelena, Kate feels a flood of affection rush through her. Harsher and more intense than anything Kate has ever felt. At least, in the last couple of days. This isn’t the first time Kate has experienced this before. It’s been a semi-regular occurrence with Yelena ever since they started hanging out. She gets glimpses of this intense adoration every time she’s in Yelena’s presence. It’s only worsened whenever Kate is buried inside of her. Or when Yelena passes out right after sex and curls into Kate’s chest. It’s a feeling that anchors her to the bed, makes impossible to move or breathe. 

It doesn’t take long for Yelena’s pleasure to reach its boiling point. Or for Kate to follow her lead again. They twist along the tabletop hard enough for the legs to scratch the floor with a worrisome wobble. Kate’s sure that the nuts and bolts are gonna give up underneath them any second. But, at least for now, they don’t. The whole thing stays intact as the tension and pleasure subsides to a low hum throughout their bodies. Kate doesn’t move to slip out of Yelena right away. Instead, she presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of her forehead, basking in the tremors Kate can still feel reverberating throughout Yelena’s body. 

***

By the time they're done, there’s a permanent wobble in the legs of Kate’s kitchen table. All the books, pens, snacks, and wrappers that had accumulated along the surface were now spread across the kitchen floor. There was a small puddle of water, trailing out of a now empty cup, that Yelena made a mental note to clean up. It was only fair. She was the first one to knock things off of the tabletop. 

Fearing for the stability of the table, they had migrated to the couch some time ago. Their clothes had been discarded, joining the study materials and cutlery now resting along the tile. Yelena had sufficiently worked out all of her frustration from the wedding. Kate, being a dutiful and obedient alpha, had been more than happy to help. Yelena had  taken her in every way she could possibly want, twisting their bodies into numerous positions to chase the high of mutual pleasure, and pulling an abundance of curses and pleas from Kate’s lips. Any lingering jealousy was forgotten with the outline of Yelena’s mouth tattooed across whole sections of Kate’s skin. Not to mention, Kate’s cock still nestled inside of her. In its rightful place , Yelena thought. But regret and shame instantly followed the thought. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone at the wedding,” Kate says. Distracting Yelena from her inner monologue. “I shouldn’t have ditched you.”

“It’s okay,” Yelena says. Her fingers run along the edge of Kate’s shoulder blade, solid and firm beneath her hand. “You didn’t ditch me. You were doing the duties of both best man and daughter of the bride.”

“Still,” Kate says, resting her cheek against Yelena’s right breast. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long. It was a shitty thing to do.”

“Well, lucky for you, you’ve just made it up to me,” Yelena says. “And you can keep making it up to me tomorrow morning. But right now, I think it’s time for bed.”

Kate yawns, proving Yelena’s point. “Fine,” she says, speaking into Yelena’s chest. “But can we sleep here? I don’t want to move.” 

“I don’t know about you but that table wasn’t great on my back,” Yelena says. She shifts, sliding out from under Kate, leaving the comfort of her heat and weight. “So I’m gonna go sleep upstairs in that very nice, very expensive bed.”

Kate lets out a half hearted whine. But she rises up from the couch, wrapping an arm around Yelena’s middle, pulling their bodies back together again. She leans down, pressing a kiss to Yelena’s shoulder. “Fine,” she says. 

With Kate’s arms wrapped loosely around her, Yelena leads them up the steps towards Kate’s bedroom.

***

They’re only a few weeks away from Spring Break. Something Yelena doesn’t usually look forward to all that much. The past couple of years Yelena has spent each Spring Break simply catching up on her assignments, preparing for the return to school. And, when she was done with that, she usually read or reread the novels that filled her room. Or hungout with her roommates. It was only one week. In the whole time span of the average human life, that amounted to less than point one percent. But her peers didn’t seem to see it that way. And neither did Kate.

With every day they get closer to Spring Break, both the students and teachers grow antsy. Impatient. It’s an energy that takes over campus. A restlessness that takes the form of an onslaught of parties and the overcrowding of bars closest to campus. Yelena only knows this because the widows and Kate have invited her out several times. But, with the student body in its current unruly state, Yelena always opts to stay home. Usually.

It’s after a particularly grueling day in class and almost a whole seventy two hours of not seeing Kate that Yelena finally gives in. 

She answers Kate’s text an hour after she’s sent it. Letting her know that yes , she’d be meeting her and Greer at the bar. She doesn’t even attempt to get ready before she leaves her home. Only throws on a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt that belonged to Kate. She runs her hand through her hair a couple of times, applies some chapstick and decides she’s good to go for the night. Everyone would most likely already be drunk by the time she got there. No one would notice her. 

Like Yelena had anticipated, the bar is full of inebriated college kids. Trying to jump start their week of partying preemptively. She attempts to search for Kate but the music and shouting grab her attention first. Then, glancing up towards the source of the chaos, Yelena doesn’t have to look any further.

She can't believe Kate is singing again. Even moreso, she can't believe what Kate is singing. She stands on top of the bar. The top few buttons on her shirt are undone. Her hair is loose and wavy over her shoulders. She moves along the bar with a swagger Yelena’s only seen in mild and rare bits over the time she’s known her. A swagger and cockiness that’s amplified to a hundred tonight. The crowd is eating it up. Made up of mostly women, they’re looking at Kate with a familiar hunger and awe in their eyes. Their desire and cheer is palpable. The song only intensifies it.

I love myself

I want you to love me

When I feel down

I want you above me

Yelena doesn’t know the song but the lyrics still affect her just the same. 

I don't want anybody else

When I think about you

I touch myself

Oh, I don't want anybody else

Kate sings the words with a specific kind of sensuality and drunken charm that affects the rest of the bar who cheers her on. Yelena can’t help but watch on in semi disbelief and amazement like the rest of the crowd. 

“Like I said,” Greer says, appearing at her side suddenly. “Every three weeks.”

“How did she get up on the bar?”

“I think it was a dare? Unclear but the bartenders seem to love it so,” she shrugs. “They haven’t kicked us out yet.”

“How long has she been up there?”

“Only for this song. She just started a minute ago.”

Yelena can’t tear her eyes away from her. Kate’s hips and arms swing and move in a way she finds too alluring, equal parts sexy and goofy. Too much for Yelena to take. She almost expects Kate to start stripping. 

“Yeah, she likes to put on a show,” Greer says. She sips at the beer bottle in her hand. They stand and stare for a few moments before Greer starts to wave her free hand in the air. 

“What are you doing?” Yelena asks. Her face is burning. Her throat is dry in a way that begs for a glass of water or anything they had on tap. But approaching the bar is out of the question. Not with Kate looking like that. 

“Trying to get her attention,” Greer says. “She told me to let her know if I saw you. And here I am, seeing you.”

She continues to wave her arm. The heat on Yelena’s face only grows worse. Especially when Kate’s eyes land on them. Her lips quirk up in a half smirk that Yelena feels directly between her legs. She’s mortified.

“Yup,” Greer says, dropping her arm. “She sees us.”

Yelena doesn’t speak. Just watches as Kate continues to sing. Someone throws a bra onto the bar. The whole audience erupts with an onslaught of shouts and claps. Kate salutes whoever threw the bra, continuing on with her performance. Yelena can’t see the owner of the bra since her and Greer are on the edge of the crowd. 

When Kate finally finishes a handful of other undergarments decorate the bar. She bows and thanks the crowd, encouraging everyone to fill the tip jar on the corner of the countertop before easing herself off the bar. 

Yelena doesn’t know what to do but watch as Kate makes her way towards her. 

The performance is over but eyes still follow Kate. In Yelena’s slightly prejudiced view, jealousy was something she associated with alphas. Walking bundles of hormones and entitlement. But Kate doesn’t act like that. No, Kate isn’t like what Yelena had anticipated at all. Not fully, at least. She’s sweet. Kind. Compassionate. Childish in a way that only endears her to Yelena. Jealousy and possessiveness are not things Yelena associates with Kate.

 Jealousy is something that festers deep inside of Yelena instead. 

Kate greets her with the faintest peck on her lips. Followed by the intertwining of their hands. The euphoria that fills Yelena at the small act is devastating and unnerving. 

While Kate doesn’t act like the worst stereotypes of her status, she does act eerily similar to something equally upsetting to Yelena. A girlfriend. It’s in the looks. The lingering gazes across a crowded room. Soft touches to her arm and back. Her hand held within Yelena’s. Getting Yelena a drink without even having to ask what she wants because she already knows. The shared space they take up in Kate’s apartment. Yelena’s books on Kate’s tables and shelves. Kate’s clothes in Yelena’s closet.  The way Kate’s friends treat her as if they were together. It’s like a snowball rolling down a mountain as Yelena goes over all of their time spent together the last few months. The parties. The sex. The wedding. It’s a tiny avalanche taking place in her mind. An enormous pressure that threatens to overtake her as she makes a startling realization. 

Kate and her are in a relationship. 

***

When they get to her apartment, Kate is all eager hands and soft lips. They take their time undressing each other as they make their way into Kate’s bedroom. The alcohol from the bar has numbed Yelena’s previous anxiety somewhat. It’s a dull pulsing that becomes easier to ignore the longer Kate touches her.

Kate, only in her briefs, falls backwards onto the bed. Yelena stumbles after her, her thighs slotting over Kate’s hips. 

“Do whatever you want to me,” Kate says, breathless and warm. 

Yelena laughs. But inside she’s weak, an uncomfortable pressure centered within her chest. “Are you sure you trust me with that kinda power?” she asks. Are you sure you trust me with your heart?

“Of course. I’d trust you with my life.”

Another thing breaks inside of Yelena then. A wall or a resolve, she’s not sure. 

Yelena bends down and slides her tongue along Kate’s mouth, drawing out as many moans as she can. There’s a restlessness humming roughly underneath her skin. An anxious discomfort bundled within her body. She focuses on Kate’s body instead, on making her feel good.

Yelena is used to spending so much time in her head that it’s almost second nature to disappear inside of herself sometimes. Like during sex. But Kate, in the way that she touches her, holds her, grinds her down onto her body. Latches onto her with her mouth. She makes it hard for Yelena to be anywhere else but here with her. Yelena kind of suspects that might be Kate’s intention; to never let Yelena disappear inside of herself, to never let her forget where she is when she’s with Kate.

“You’re so pretty,” Kate whispers into her chest. She kisses her skin with so much reverence it also makes Yelena weep. 

Yelena knows she is attractive. She's been told as much her whole life whether it was from the clinical mouths of red room instructors, the leering eyes of men on her missions, or the quiet words of women in dim lit bars. But she's never felt as beautiful as when Kate looks at her. Like she’s the moon and the stars. It's so overwhelming, Yelena has to close her eyes. As much as she loves to see Kate strain against her, the twisted expression of ecstasy and desire in her face, her senses are overloaded. She needs to balance them again. Close her eyes and just feel Kate all around her, filling her. Hear her panting Yelena's name like a prayer into her skin. Taste the mixture of their sweat and Kate's tongue on her lips. Smell the men's deodorant and citrus shampoo wafting off of her. And, underneath that, the hormones that were strictly Kate. It’s a smell that calms her more than she’s comfortable with.

Kate has crawled inside of her and curled around Yelena's heart like a cat burrowing into their favorite spot in a home. When Kate slides into her like this, lays on top of her, holding her down into the bed so as to anchor her to the moment, to Kate's body, Yelena's reminded of that E.E Cummings poem. Part of her assigned reading from last semester: i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)

She only remembers the first few lines but still. The words stick on the roof of her mouth and live on her tongue as Kate stays nestled inside of her, whispering thanks yous into her skin as if they were hymns.

Yelena feels like the most selfish person on the planet in moments like this. Where she aches to keep Kate like this. Like she’s Yelena’s. She dreads the moment where Kate will have to slip out and pull away from her, leaving her feeling empty in a way she has never felt before. One of the downsides of never having had an alpha before. The fullness was different. Intense. And so was the emptiness.

While Kate is sleeping, the blanket pooled around her hips to expose her back, her breathing muffled against her pillow, Yelena makes a decision. It’s painful but she knows her choices are limited. She doesn’t know what else to do.  

It starts the morning she leaves Kate’s apartment. Immediately. It has to be soon or else Yelena doesn’t know if she’ll be able to do it.

Yelena knows Kate doesn’t deserve her cruelty. Her coldness. But there needed to be a wall. Something to divide them, to keep Kate far away from her even when she was snug inside of Yelena, mumbling praises into her chest. Something to make sure she never got too comfortable with her. To remind her who Yelena really was. Where she came from. It was not a place for someone as sweet and kind as Kate Bishop. Yelena was not a person she could be with. She was not meant for Kate Bishop.

***

Yelena doesn’t see Kate for two weeks. She uses school as an excuse in the week leading up to Spring Break. Kate buys it. Leaves her alone to study in her own apartment with minimal texts since Yelena is careful to respond sparingly. But still frequent enough that she doesn’t cause a complete panic in Kate. That’s not the goal. The goal is distance. A reframing of their friendship. They needed to get back to what they were at the beginning of their arrangement. Back when Yelena could handle anything Kate Bishop could throw at her. Where she was safe in her assumptions and the little world she had curated for herself among her widows and her family. People who had already seen her at her worst, whose own histories matched her’s. People who had already left but had come back.

During Spring Break, she packs a bag and heads to her parent’s farm. It’s easier that way then to stay in the same city as Kate. Hell, if Yelena could, she wouldn’t even be on the same continent. Kate doesn’t say much when she explains that she’ll be helping her mother make more of the counteragent. She just wishes her a safe trip. Says she’ll miss her. Yelena allows herself the indignity of saying she’ll miss her too before ending the call. 

The visit is unexpected but her parents don’t say much about it. 

“You always say I never call,” Yelena says. “So I thought I’d come visit.”

“Well, yes, of course, we’re happy to have you here,” Melina says, wiping her hands on a rag in the kitchen. “You may come anytime. The door is always open for you girls.”

“Yes,” Alexei says. His shirt is stained with dirt and what Yelena guesses is paint. “You’re always welcomed. We could always use an extra pair of hands to help with the pigs and your mother’s projects, you know.”

“Alexei.”

“What?”

“Go clean up for dinner, you’re disgusting.”

“I’m trying to welcome our daughter home!”

“She thinks you’re filthy too. Go, clean yourself.”

Her parent’s bickering brings her some comfort as does the routine of the farm. But not much. 

Natasha calls once the widows let her know Yelena is visiting their parents. Neither of them have been on the farm for some time. She doesn’t say much about Yelena’s choice to vacate the city other than ask what Kate was doing for Spring Break, during which Yelena promptly hangs up. Natasha bombards her phone with various emojis, only half of which Yelena knows the meaning of.

While on the farm, she only responds to Kate’s texts once every day, at the end of her day, right before she sleeps. She doesn’t want Kate to think she’s avoiding her (even if she is). She told her she’d be busy. She just needs some space. 

***

Yelena arrives back at her apartment the day before classes start back up again. The night that many parties would be erupting around campus, a final farewell to their vacation. Sonya, Oksana and Ana drag her to one such party. Yelena doesn’t put up much of a fight. She’s spent the last week with only her parents and her mom’s pigs to keep her company. Being in a room full of people her age would be a refreshing change of pace even if she normally hated it. Plus, she needs a distraction. 

She doesn’t tell Kate she's back in town. She doesn’t know why. Or, at least, won’t admit why. She’s trying not to think about her at all as the girls drag her across the lawn of an overcrowded house. They’re quick to find the alcohol and a corner to settle in. Yelena is content to stand there, sipping her weak drink. She’s barely even there. She’s half paying attention to her friends, half on her phone, wondering if she should text Kate, when Ana calls her name. She and Sonya are peering somewhere over her shoulder. “Isn’t that your alpha?” Sonya asks. 

Yelena doesn’t attempt to say that she doesn’t have an alpha. She ignores the implication as well as the discomfort that wraps around her at the thought that her friends see her and Kate as belonging to each other. Instead, she follows their line of sight to the other side of the room. 

Her stomach drops. Kate leans against the door jam between the living room and the dining room, beer gripped in her hand, as she talks to a girl. A pretty brunette that Yelena vaguely recognizes. For a few seconds, they seem to just talk. It looks perfectly innocent. Until the girl wraps her hands around Kate’s bicep, laughing at something she said. Kate’s face flushes pink. The blush sends an unexpected but familiar surge of fury through her veins. Yelena knocks back the rest of her vodka to calm her nerves. But her irritation is only exacerbated when the girl leans up to whisper something in Kate’s ear. And the blush deepens. 

A deep chuckle comes from beside her. “Better watch out, Lena,” Ana says. She sips at her drink, both her and Sonya looking amused. “Looks like someone is gonna take your alpha.” Their tone is teasing but Yelena doesn’t find it funny. Something nasty and possessive roars in Yelena’s chest, overriding any agitation she feels at being lumped with Kate Bishop. Yelena is brought back to Eleanor Bishop’s wedding. Seeing Kate dance with another girl. 

It was a similar outrage but this time feels different. Maybe it’s the fact that Yelena hasn’t seen or really talked to Kate in two weeks. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s a little tipsy. Maybe it’s how content Kate seems to let the other girl touch her. Or maybe it’s a mix of all three. Whatever it is has Yelena moving across the room before she’s even thought about it. She’s acting on pure instinct. Territorial, irrational instinct. 

Kate doesn’t seem to notice her until she’s standing directly in front of her. Which only angers Yelena more. 

Her eyes widen when they finally take Yelena in. She stands up from the door jam, straightening her back. But the brunette’s hand remains clutching Kate’s arm. “Yelena,” Kate says. Almost breathless. “Hey.” Her eyes flicker down to Yelena’s lips which were decorated with purple lipstick because she had missed Kate.

Her indignation softens slightly at the way her name falls from Kate’s lips. And the reaction to her lipstick. But it's quickly reignited by the way the girl stares at Yelena, almost challenging. As if Kate hasn’t spent the last few months trying to get Yelena off in every possible position. 

Yelena doesn’t say anything. Simply wraps her hand around Kate’s wrist and tugs. Like she anticipated, Kate follows her willingly without protest. Yelena hears the brunette make some kind of complaint but she tunes it out, only focusing on leading Kate somewhere private. Away from everyone else. 

She finds a small bathroom tucked away at the end of a hall. Yelena is quick to pull Kate inside and lock the door behind them. It’s quieter in the bathroom, the bass and roar of the party dulled by the walls. And much less cramped. 

“Yelena,” Kate says. Not like a question. More like she’s just getting used to the feel of Yelena’s name in her mouth again. “Yelena, what are you-”

Her question is overshadowed by the moan she lodges in Yelena’s mouth as she slots their lips together. Yelena wraps her arms around Kate’s shoulders as she leans back against the sink, keeping their mouths connected. Her anger has morphed somewhat into hunger. She’s ravenous as she lifts herself onto the granite counter, knocking over numerous soaps and hair products. Tugging Kate downwards so Yelena can latch onto her neck, her teeth and tongue making shallow marks and bruises that’ll fade in a few days. Nothing too permanent. Even though everything in her screams to sink her teeth into the sinew of Kate’s neck. 

Yelena’s hands slide under the hem of her shirt, pushing it up until Kate gets the idea and yanks it off, over her head. Yelena delights in the purple of her lipstick, staining Kate’s skin briefly before moving down towards her chest. She takes Kate’s nipple in her mouth and is rewarded by a surprised moan. Kate’s hips squirm against her and that’s when Yelena feels it. The blatant outline of her cock, pressed tightly against the inseam of her pants, as it grazes Yelena’s center. Yelena can’t help but cry out, biting down slightly on Kate’s nipple as the pleasure ratchets up her body. “Fuck,” Kate says, jolting her hips forward. Yelena’s hands make quick work of Kate’s zipper. 

Luckily, Yelena is wearing a dress. Which means she only has to hike up the hem a few inches and slide her underwear down to her ankles to be able to slot Kate and her cock between her thighs. But, even with Kate ready at her entrance, she makes no move to slip into her. No, she pauses and simply looks at Yelena. Obviously aroused but confusion clear in her face. Her eyes scan over her. Like she’s attempting to read Yelena. 

The anxiety she had tried to bury and escape before Spring Break returns, a sliver twisting in her stomach. At the same time, something soft and looking too much like affection crosses Kate’s expression. It’s too much.

Yelena’s legs tighten around Kate, pulling her in closer. “Are you gonna fuck me, or what?” She asks, nipping at Kate’s neck. Something like a growl hums underneath Yelena’s mouth. Kate’s hands slide under her knees, gripping the backs of her thighs as she slides into Yelena with a satisfying force that pulls a groan from both of them. Yelena’s nails sink deep into the skin of Kate’s back. Kate doesn’t waste any time. She starts a relentless rhythm that has Yelena moaning pathetic, little noises into Kate’s chest, her neck, her jaw, anywhere she could reach with her teeth and tongue. 

“Do you like that?” Kate asks. The question isn’t raunchy or erotic. At least, not in the way you’d expect it to be. Kate’s tone isn’t filled with unrestrained sexual fervor; it’s a genuine question, a quiet breath of air breathed against the crown of Yelena’s head. Patient and curious. She’s asking if Yelena is okay. 

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing as much air as she could back into her lungs. “Yeah, I like it.”

Kate lifts her head, catching Yelena’s gaze. She holds it and Yelena hates that she doesn’t want to let go. That she wants Kate to catch a glimpse inside. To see the darkness, the death and malice and judge her accordingly. And finally free them both from this stupid, reckless arrangement. But Yelena is a coward. She shifts, tightening the grip of her legs so her feet dig into Kate’s back and her arms wrap around her shoulders. Their fronts smash together as firmly as Yelena can manage. She rocks in time with Kate’s thrusts, tangling her hand in Kate’s hair. She cranes her neck to take Kate’s earlobe between her teeth.

“Fuck, Yelena.”

“Yeah, just like that,” Yelena pants. “Блядь, Kate.”

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Kate’s cheek falls against her temple, her breath tickling Yelena’s ear. “You feel so good.”

“Such a good alpha.” Yelena’s teeth press against the skin of Kate’s neck. “Did you miss me?”

“Oh, fuck.” Kate’s hips spasm, snapping against her with a rough but pleasing force, drawing a loud moan that gets swallowed by Kate’s lips. “God, yes. Of course, I- Fuck, of course I missed you.”

Yelena hates the instant gratification that fills her up almost as well as Kate’s cock. “I missed this,” Kate says. “I missed being inside you.” They both moan with a particularly sharp thrust of Kate’s hips. “Nothing feels as good as this,” she says into Yelena’s neck. She doesn’t say anything else for a while, only grunts in time with each squeeze of Yelena’s walls. Her hands are firm around Yelena’s hips, sure to bruise her skin. 

Kate shifts, pressing their foreheads together. “Yelena, Yelena…” Kate quietly chants her name against Yelena’s lips, their noses brushing as they rock against one another. She clenches around Kate and basks in the whimper against her cheek.

“Say you want me.” The words fall off Yelena’s tongue without thought, surprising her.

“What?”

“Say it.” Yelena hates herself for the next word that comes out of her mouth. “Please.”

“I want you.” The words are spoken easily and firmly. As if they’re true. And Kate seems to delight in saying them. The ecstasy on her face, the pure delight in those words. It takes Yelena by surprise. But it also increases her already heightened arousal. “I want you,” she says it again and Yelena whines against her neck, Kate’s hips rolling at an unforgiving, greedy pace. “Fuck, I want you so fucking bad, Yelena.” Kate moves at a feral fervor, whining and grinding against her as if she were in a rut. She repeats herself several times. Yelena tightens around Kate, basking in the feel of her body, filling her up. She’s close. The pleasure is overwhelming. 

Kate’s teeth graze the skin of her neck. She clamps down around Kate on instinct. Kate spasms against her, groaning into her collarbone as she keeps Yelena balanced high, her peak within sight. Yelena, more than anything, wants Kate’s teeth to drop down into her neck. To break her skin and bind them together. 

“Mine.” It slips out without Yelena meaning it to. Her mind is on autopilot and she almost freezes if not for the spasm that rocks through Kate. She groans into the underside of Yelena’s jaw, rocking her hips as she comes. Kate’s own pleasure sends Yelena over the edge where she’s been toeing the line for the last few minutes. She falls headfirst into numerous waves of ecstasy, coursing through her body like the ocean lapping at the shore, overtaking her. She holds Kate against her as they ride through their orgasms together. 

After most of the aftershocks dwindle out, Yelena sags back against the mirror behind her. Looking Kate over, the dark stain of her lipstick and the redness of bruised flesh is everywhere. A beautiful painting that makes Yelena want to pull her back in; sink her teeth into strong flesh and claim her over and over again. 

***

After Kate pulls out, Yelena slides off the counter top. She washes her hands quickly, head tilted downward as Kate stands behind her, peering at her reflection. She doesn’t bother to dry them before venturing back into the party without a word, leaving Kate alone in the bathroom. A tiny pit has opened up in her stomach. She doesn’t know what just happened but it doesn’t feel good.  Kate splashes some water on her face, her body still running hot from the heat of Yelena’s skin. She takes a breath, trying to calm the nerves skittering up her spine. Hinting at something terrible that Kate had just missed. She doesn’t know what. All she knows is that Yelena running out of the bathroom without a word doesn’t bode well for the already tenuous spot their relationship was in at the moment. Another splash of water and Kate exits the bathroom in search of her friends. 

The house is packed to the brim. She has to push passed throngs of people littering every hall and corner of the place. Kate doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. She’s just trying to get around a cramped corner until she hears Yelena’s voice. It’s close enough that Kate figures she’s right on the other side of the wall. Kate would only have to go forward a few inches to enter the living room and she’d see her. But the ocean of bodies keeps her posted against the wall long enough that she catches more of Yelena’s conversation than she’d like. 

“You’d make a cute couple,” one of her roommates says. Kate’s not sure which one. She hasn't exactly met them. The tone isn’t mean. It’s taunting in the way her own friends were sometimes. “When should we expect wedding invitations?”

Yelena scoffs. “Stop that. It’s not like that.” She sounds bored but Kate’s well versed enough in Yelena’s voice to hear the true irritation in her words. 

“We have eyes, Lena.” A different roommate. Her tone is less teasing, more tired. As if they’ve had this conversation before. 

“It’s just sex.”

“So you’ve said. Like how you said you don’t sleep with alphas.”

Kate can’t see Yelena’s face. She can’t see any of their faces. She can only hear the growing indignation and steel in Yelena’s voice. “It would never work out between us. Kate is a superhero wannabe. Too bright eyed and perky.” 

Even though Yelena hasn’t said anything that wasn’t true, it still hits Kate hard. Their whole relationship reduced to just sex . And yet, Yelena isn’t done. 

“She’s basically a child,” she says. “It wouldn’t work.”

Kate doesn’t stick around to hear how the others respond. She turns around, pushing her way through the crowd until the front door is within her sights. She feels like she’s just been shot in the stomach. Like she's been stabbed in both of her lungs and kicked in the chest for good measure. This is worse than when Kingpin had tossed her around that toy store. Her whole body had been one big bruise and a couple of broken ribs but still, at least her heart had remained intact. Outside, she tries to get as much air into her lungs as she can and fights the heat building behind her eyes. She isn’t going to cry. She wouldn’t. She keeps telling that to herself even as warm wet streaks slide down her face and her throat grows thick and heavy. She wants to crawl into her bed and never come out.

She rushes home to do just that. She doesn’t even attempt to catch a taxi or hop on the subway. She’s on autopilot the whole walk home, unable to feel anything other than anguish and the anxious need to be in bed already. 

***

Kate avoids Yelena’s texts for three days. Which is easy considering Yelena is barely texting her to begin with. Seems like she’s continuing her own avoidance of Kate that had started the week before spring break. Kate isn’t an idiot, she knows when she’s being ignored. But she gave Yelena the benefit of the doubt. She knows she has a hard time voicing her needs and feelings. So Kate had assumed she just needed a little space. But, even after jumping her abruptly at the party, it seems like she still needs space. Which is fine. Totally fine by Kate. She’s not really in the mood to see Yelena anyway.

After leaving the party, Kate’s anguish had morphed from a devastating sadness into a spiteful anger. Not something she was used to feeling. Greer and Franny had picked up on her sour mood quickly. It didn’t take long for Kate to spill her whole guts about the situation and the source of her terrible mood. 

They didn’t try to give Kate any possible rationalizations for Yelena’s words or shit talk her like Kate had been expecting. They had only asked what Kate needed. Which led to a brief cry into both of their shoulders and a sleepover at their place.

Three days later and the sting of Yelena’s words still hadn’t lessened by any degree. Her frustration had only worsened. Some part of her knew deep down it wasn’t just sex for Yelena. It couldn’t be. Kate wasn’t delusionally grasping at straws. It wasn’t wishful thinking. She knew Yelena. She watched her interact with other people. Studied and analyzed her words, her behavior, her mannerisms. She knew her circle was small and limited. She didn’t talk to anyone else outside of her family, her roommates and Kate.

Kate was the exception to the tall walls she had put up around her life. Or, at least, that’s what Kate had tricked herself into believing the last few months. Maybe she really was just deluding herself. Either way, both her and Yelena weren’t talking to each other and it sucked. 

Greer and Franny take Kate out after the fourth night of silence. A bar close to campus and frequented by other students. A place Kate came to often but really had no interest in at the moment. She wasn’t in the mood to feel happy or settled. She finished off the pitcher Greer had bought for the table pretty quickly. 

“Okay,” Greer says. “Might wanna take it easier there, dude.” Kate only hums noncommittally. 

“How about darts?” Franny suggests. “You love darts.”

“I do love darts,” Kate mumbles. She feels like a child. But who could blame her? Yelena wasn’t talking to her. And had the gall to call Kate a superhero wannabe with such disdain. Not to mention basically a child. She had the right to be angry. Yelena wasn’t necessarily wrong but still. 

After ten straight bullseyes, Kate grows bored. And restless. Greer had gone to the bathroom and Franny had gone to the bar to refill their drinks. Kate stands alone, already a little drunk, which is maybe why she doesn’t notice the girl watching her right away. 

“Hey, I remember you from the party the other night,” she says. It’s a familiar voice. And a familiar face as Kate turns to look at her. Pretty. Brunette. And smiling like she already knew her. It takes a second for Kate to recognize her as the girl she had been talking to before Yelena had pulled her into that bathroom. “Kate, right?”

“Yeah,” Kate says. “And you never told me your name, I’m pretty sure?” 

“It’s Emma,” she says, stepping closer towards Kate. She holds a beer bottle in her hand. She stands near enough to Kate that she can almost feel the condensation of the glass against her t-shirt. “We used to have Queer Lit together.”

Kate racks her brain for any memory of that class. But all she can think of is that first time Yelena and her really talked in the library. Questions traded back and forth. A slew of favorite writers that Kate had memorized and sought out in the very same stacks the next day. 

“It’s okay if you can’t remember,” Emma says, still smiling. “It was a long time ago.”

“No, I remember,” Kate says. “You did a presentation on Oscar Wilde, right?”

Her grin widens. “You remember,” she says, lightly smacking Kate’s chest. 

Kate returns her smile even though it feels awkward and forced. But this whole act feels familiar in a way that’s almost comforting. She barely even has to think as she goes through the motions of flirting with this pretty girl. It’s like second nature. She’s a little rusty but the interaction ends the same as she’s used to. With a new number in her phone and the promise of seeing each other again. 

Kate strolls up to the table where Greer and Franny are sitting. “I have a date,” she says. They both raise their brows, staring at Kate for a moment before glancing at each other. Concern is clear in their face. They glance back at Kate again.

“A date?” Greer asks. 

“Like a date date?” Franny asks. 

“Yeah,” Kate says, plopping down into the chair between them. She takes a swig of the bottle left on the table for her while her friends continue to stare at her. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Greer asks.

“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

“I mean, with everything that’s going on with Yelena-”

“Nothings going on with Yelena.” There’s more ice in her voice than she means for there to be. 

Greer and Franny raise their eyebrows again. They don’t say anything else on the matter. They don’t have to. The disbelief is obvious in their faces which is why she ends the night early soon after.

***

Yelena and Kate don’t speak for a few days. Yelena knows it’s her fault but she can’t bring herself to face Kate. The shame and embarrassment is still simmering in her stomach. She bared herself so openly for her. Actually begged in that tiny bathroom while Kate was inside of her. She showed her hand. Basically bent her knee and bared her neck. And now she hid away in her apartment like a coward. Her roommates are generous in their performative ignorance. They don’t bring up Kate or the party. Instead, they opt out of other parties and dates to stay home with Yelena. They bundle up and spread out along their living room to watch trashy reality tv where they all yell at the screen and share large bowls of chips and popcorn. Besides Natasha, they’re the closest thing Yelena has to actual sisters. They know she’s not one to talk about her feelings so they surround her instead, never leaving her alone while she’s still fresh in a less than great mood. Their way of saying we’re here and we love you . 

After a few days of that, Yelena finally ventures outside their apartment for something other than class. Ana is the one to suggest getting some ice cream and fresh air. Surprisingly, Yelena agrees to go.

She actually doesn’t feel too bad. She’s still angry at herself for avoiding Kate and angry at Kate for making her feel so discombobulated. But her roommates have lifted her spirits somewhat. She almost feels like she could chance a text to Kate after all. It had been a while but the silence needed to break at some point. It was Yelena’s fault that they weren’t speaking so, of course, she’d have to be the one to bridge that gap.

It’s the start of the weekend so when they round the corner, there’s a line already out the door of the shop. It’s bustling with customers. Yelena has already resigned herself to waiting until she glimpses familiar dark waves and broad shoulders. Kate isn’t looking at her. She’s looking at the girl from the party, the brunette who had her hand on Kate’s arm. The girl who whispered into her ear and made Kate blush. Further down, their hands are intertwined. The girl laughs and Kate smiles. 

Yelena can’t deny the ice that floods her veins. Or the way she breaks into tiny pieces with each swing of their hands, clasped together. Her anguish is only made worse by the presence of her widows beside her, also witnessing her humiliation. Their presence would usually be a comfort but right now they only intensify the feeling of wrongness choking her; of a hollowness expanding in her chest. They’re witnesses to something that shouldn’t bother Yelena but their eyes burning into her let her know that they know she’s breaking apart inside. She can’t fool them. They know her better than anyone else and, right now, she feels the burden of that. The burden of letting someone in that deeply to see her hurt this bad. 

She’s on the verge of vomiting. 

That feeling is only amplified when Kate turns her head in Yelena’s direction. Her reaction time has slowed because Kate’s eyes quickly meet her own. Usually, Yelena would already be on another street before Kate could even glance at her shadow. But, even though her reaction time is delayed, Yelena’s body still jumps into action without thought. She’s rounding the corner, striding back to their apartment, without a word or a glance back. She’s shown her hand again but she doesn’t care. She just wants to go home. 

The girls are smart in that they know nothing they can say will make Yelena feel better. So they don’t attempt to say anything. They leave Yelena alone to sulk in her room. She can’t talk to anyone right now. No one should be a witness to everything she’s feeling. It’s like glass is making its way through her digestive system as she curls on top of her sheets, fighting back everything in her that wants to cry.

***

When Yelena’s gaze lands on her, Kate feels the ground fall out from beneath her feet. Her stomach lodges in her throat and she can’t do anything besides stare as Yelena twists around, turning her back on her. Her roommates, who Kate has only glimpsed twice, are quick on her heels. None of them spare Kate another glance. She’s only brought back to the present when she feels a pressure around her hand. It’s Emma’s hand, squeezing Kate’s within her own. She had forgotten they were even holding hands. Emma had intertwined their fingers as soon as they walked up to the ice cream shop. The motion was awkward and uncomfortable but Kate wasn’t bothered enough to do anything but let her hold her hand. She supposed that was a normal thing to do on a date. But the expression on Yelena’s face made her feel as if she committed some heinous crime.

Kate knows she’s not in the wrong, technically. Yelena and Kate were only having sex. It wasn’t serious. Yelena would never be into her. She had said as much last week with Kate well within earshot. But still, a horrid boulder of guilt settles in her gut. Her hand burns the longer she lets it sit within Emma’s. Kate moves to run her fingers through her hair, dropping Emma’s hand as she does so.

Kate doesn’t really remember much of the date after that. 

If they weren’t talking before, they’re definitely not talking now. It’s radio silence from Yelena. And Kate hasn’t attempted a text or call either. She wouldn’t even know what to say. Even though a horrid sense of guilt sits in her gut, anger still overrides most of that. Beneath the shame is a hot flare of justification. She didn’t do anything wrong. Kate keeps repeating that mantra to herself over and over again. Greer and Franny also assure her that she’s not in the wrong. 

“Maybe you should talk to her,” Greer says. 

“Maybe she should talk to me,” Kate says. Neither Greer or Franny make that same suggestion again. 

Kate becomes difficult to be around the next few days. She doesn’t mean to be. She just is. Her best friends give her the space to be moody and sulking. And when she’s not with them, she’s either training until her arms threaten to fall off or she’s with Emma. They’ve been hanging out so to speak. Casual dates. Watching movies in her apartment and getting dinner. All very low key. It’s the longest Kate has gone while talking to someone without having sex. She’s usually in bed with them on the first or second date. It’s been three so far and Kate can tell Emma’s getting antsy. She’s had enough experience with women to know when they want her and what they want from her. The only person to confuse her radar was Yelena. But Kate isn’t thinking of Yelena. Or she’s trying not to. She’s using Emma as a distraction. And maybe it isn’t fair but nothing about what Yelena and Kate were in the middle of is fair. Kate is hurt and just looking for some kind of relief. 

Emma laughs at her jokes, holds her hand and doesn’t attempt to hide her feelings. It's easy with her. Kate knows what Emma wants from her. She doesn’t hide it. She isn’t so far out of reach that Kate has to strain and bend herself into awkward shapes just to try to figure it out. Emma is as easy to read as anyone Kate has ever been with who wasn’t a former Black Widow assassin. 

“Do you want to come up?” Emma asks as they walk up to the front steps of her apartment building. Even with all the mental justification Kate armed herself with, this is still an awkward area for her. 

“I would but I gotta walk and feed my dog,” Kate says, already inching back towards the sidewalk. “He’s really needy and I’ve been gone for a while.” It’s a weak excuse but Emma is gracious in Kate’s rejection. Like she’s been the last couple of times she’s invited her up to her place. 

“Oh, sure, yeah,” she says, nodding her head. “I understand. Next time, maybe.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kate says. “I’ll text you.”

It’s not that Kate hasn’t been in Emma’s apartment before. She has. Which is kind of the problem. 

Kate couldn’t seal the deal with Emma. She was physically incapable. They’ve made out before. Gotten hot and heavy enough that hands slipped underneath clothes. But once it started to move towards the removal of those clothes, Kate always backed off. She doesn’t know why. Every time they ever got close, Yelena's voice would pop into Kate’s head. Her tiny whimpers and weak voice asking Kate to tell her that she wanted her. The rawness and vulnerability in her words intoxicating. The most Yelena had ever given to her before. The memory of the last time they had been together would flash through Kate’s mind and she would have to leave. Because Kate knew the arousal coursing through her body had nothing to do with Emma. Back at home, with her palm wrapped around her length, Kate would think of Yelena falling apart against her and hate herself as she stroked to completion. It was embarrassing how much her body still wanted Yelena. 

A whole week and a half goes by until they see each other again. Each day that passes, Kate grows more irritable and restless. A confluence of frustration, shame and resentment spreading throughout her body, keeping her tense. She wishes one of them would just do something. But Yelena hasn’t made any type of attempt and Kate wouldn’t dare. Not when it was Yelena who had started this whole thing. Whose words had sent Kate crying to her apartment. 

A friend of Greer’s throws a party on Friday. It’s been almost two weeks since the last party Kate has gone to which was, obviously, a shitshow. Kate has been itching to blow off some steam. She still hasn’t been able to take it to the next level with Emma even though she’s masturbated pretty much every night the past two weeks. So this is the next best thing: a party with lots of alcohol, lots of people and loud music. Kate might not be able to fuck but she could dance and she could drink. Which is exactly what she spends the first hour of the party doing. 

She goes with a whole gaggle of people from the archery team. She tries to get back into her element. Parties and dancing and talking are her strong suits; being charming and making people laugh. She’s popular on campus for a reason. 

The sting of rejection from Yelena still burns but Kate buries that in exchange for several shots and two pretty girls from the softball team on the dancefloor. Kate can’t make her heart or cock work like she wants them to but she could still have fun. Well, she could at least try. And try she does. She doesn’t know how much time passes on the dance floor. She’s just moving, trying to work out some of the energy that’s built up in her body. Letting the girls’ hands slide along her body because what the hell? She’s single and young and should be having fun. But a familiar head of blonde hair in the crowd ruins any chance Kate has of having a good night. Their eyes connect for a few moments before Yelena takes off like she did the last time Kate saw her. But this time, without thinking and a little tipsy, Kate follows her. In addition to the two shots, she’s also nursing her third bottle of beer. So her steps are a little wobbly. And her words snap out of her mouth quickly before she can stop herself.

“What the fuck is your problem?” They’re in the front yard, the air cool against the heat of Kate’s face. Yelena stomps across the grass, still running away. But her steps slow ever so slightly. 

“Me?” she asks, her back still to Kate. “Nothing. I have no problem.” It’s a shock to hear her voice after almost two weeks of radio silence but Kate doesn’t let it deter her. She continues forward on unsteady feet.

“If you’re upset with me, at least be a grown up and talk to me about it.”

Yelena stops in her tracks and Kate almost slams into her. Luckily, in her drunken state, she manages to catch herself before impact. Yelena turns around to face her, her hazel eyes searing as they glare up at her. “Me?” Yelena asks. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“It looks like you have a problem so why don’t you be a grown up for once, Kate Bishop?” Yelena punctuates her last few words with a finger digging into Kate’s chest. “Why don’t you say something?”

Kate’s breath is heavy as her heart hammers away in her chest. Yelena’s index finger is still sharp against her sternum. Her eyes burn into Kate’s as both of them refuse to be the one to look away first. 

Kate remembers Yelena’s words. It’s just sex. And the sting of shame and heartache that instantly followed. Hundreds of reproaches and questions have been burning on the tip of Kate’s tongue since then. Aching to be let loose upon Yelena. Aching for answers. But all of that dies the instant Kate sees redness and moisture line Yelena’s eyes. The air leaves her lungs. And suddenly Kate is exhausted. What am I doing? She thinks. Kate has never chased after anybody who wasn’t a criminal or on an opposing sports team. If Yelena wanted to talk to her, she would’ve already. Kate turns around, frustration and fatigue wrapping themselves around her body as she heads back to the party. 

“Did you sleep with her?” The question is called out behind her after Kate has taken a few steps towards the house. 

She turns back around, brows furrowed. “That’s what you care about?” 

She looks at Yelena, debating what answer she should give. Kate could be cruel. She could lie, say any variation of yes and let Yelena fill in the imaginative blanks. Any inkling of tears in her eyes has sufficiently vanished. But Yelena’s hands still shake slightly as she clenches her fists at her sides. “No,” Kate says after a moment. “No, I didn’t.”

“Are you going to?”

“Why do you care? Isn’t this just sex?” The fire of her anger has come back, replacing her exhaustion. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? At the beginning? Nothing more.”

“You’re right. That is what I said.”

“Then why do you care if I fuck Emma?” Maybe if Kate was sober her words would be less sharp as they fly out of her mouth. But she’s not. Yelena winces at the question and Kate feels a vague glimmer of remorse. 

Yelena’s jaw hardens as she stares at Kate. “I don’t,” she says. 

Kate wants to scream. Instead, she settles for a long sigh as she runs her hands through her hair, gripping the sides of her head. “What is wrong with you?” she asks. “You avoid me for weeks and only talk to me to give me shit about a girl you don’t even know.” Kate takes a step forward, her breath coming out in huffs. “You don’t even like me like that, anyways. You said so yourself.”

Yelena’s brows crease with confusion. “What?’

“At the party. It would never work because I’m a child?” The words come out a lot steadier than Kate feels. “Something about me being a superhero wannabe?”

Realization crosses Yelena’s face. Quickly followed by irritation. “Am I wrong? You want to be an avenger, you’ve only said so a hundred times.”

Kate doesn’t know how to say that it's not the specific words but her tone. The disdain and ridicule laced within them. Not to mention the implication of Kate being nothing more than a child to Yelena. Nothing more than a fun time because Kate wasn’t mature enough to be anything serious with. Not worth it . It was the last straw on top of a hill of girls who used Kate and threw her away after they were done having fun. Maybe it wasn’t fair to mix years worth of insecurity and hurt with Yelena’s words but Kate couldn’t help how she felt. What made Yelena any different than those girls? 

“Is that what this is about?” Yelena asks, disbelief clear in her face. “What you overheard at the party?”

“Whatever.”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true!”

“Whatever!”

“ Whatever? What are you? A teenager?” Her nose is crinkled up in exasperation. Normally, Kate would find it cute but all she feels is the racing of her own heart as she tries not to yell. “You’re right, I did say it was just sex. Obviously, I made a mistake in starting this in the first place.”

It’s a low blow and it lands right in Kate’s gut. Which she can only assume is Yelena’s intention. The urge to scream increases tenfold. But, fighting her angrier base instincts, she turns around instead. This is obviously going nowhere and the longer she stands, trading barbs with Yelena, the likelihood of her feelings getting even more hurt increases.

She doesn’t look back when she walks away and Yelena doesn’t attempt to call after her again. 

***

Yelena has objectively been through a lot in her life. And yet this thing with Kate hurts bad enough to rival all of the carnage of the past twenty years. It's baffling how far under Yelena’s skin Kate has managed to get. Enough to almost draw tears to the surface when they’re screaming at each other in a stranger’s front lawn. Almost. 

Yelena is hidden away in her usual corner of the library. She tells herself she’s hiding from Kate but she knows the other girl isn’t looking for her. In fact, she’s doing the exact opposite and avoiding Yelena completely. Not that Yelena doesn’t deserve her cold shoulder. The guilt she feels is uncomfortable and foreign. She’s used to a general, existential kind of guilt. The type that most soldiers or spies felt after years of committing numerous atrocities and taking an obscene amount of lives. It was a guilt Yelena carried with her for most of her life, a feeling she had grown used to. It had dulled after years of being trapped inside her own body. The fact that none of it was of her own volition softens the shame. But this new guilt; it's sharp. It’s an intense and devastating cloud over her head because, unlike before, Yelena was in full control of herself. And the person she hurt, rather than a nameless or faceless body she had no connection to, was Kate. Someone who had burrowed so deep into her that Yelena felt her absence like a missing limb. It's overwhelming. Yelena again finds herself wondering how she had managed to let Kate get so completely woven into her life. 

She leaves her table to stretch her legs after sitting for a couple of hours. She wanders in between random aisles, not looking for anything in particular. She’s found herself in an empty mythology aisle when she hears something. Bits and pieces of a conversation fluttering through the shelves, taking place in the aisle one row over. She doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. She’s not that interested in the conversations of strangers. But when she hears Kate’s name, she pauses. Lowering herself slightly to peer through the slit in the books, she sees two girls. She recognizes one as the dreaded Emma.

“-Well, have you yet?” the other girl asks. Yelena can’t see her face.

“No, not yet. We’ve only been on a few dates,” Emma says. “She says she’s busy studying for an econ exam but we’re supposed to go this weekend and I think we will.”

“You know she hooked up with Jenna, right?” Yelena doesn’t like the other girl’s tone. 

“Yeah, I know, Jenna told me all about it.”

“Not to mention Jess and Tai. Like that whole friend group.” The girl facing away from Yelena giggles. “I heard there’s a reason almost every girl in the humanities has taken a ride.”

Emma matches the laugh. “Yeah, honestly, I’m pretty excited to see if the reviews hold up.”

Yelena has to conjure up more self control than she ever has before to resist the urge to push the bookshelf onto those girls, or round the corner and slam them against it herself. She stands there for a few more moments as they whisper and giggle about Kate, going over every piece of gossip documenting her sexual exploits. 

Yelena is conflicted. On one hand, a long wave of relief washes over her at the knowledge that Kate hasn’t slept with that girl. On the other hand, she still feels a violent rage boiling within her at the prospect that that might change next weekend. It’s intensified by Emma talking about Kate as if she were an amusement park ride she could just hop on and off. Clenching her fists so hard she’s sure she’s drawn blood, Yelena quickly makes her way out of the stacks and towards the exit lest she cause bodily harm to any unsuspecting college girl. 

Back at her apartment, she feels the crampedness of the city pressing in on her. Along with all the mess she’s made of her and Kate. She’s starting to feel claustrophobic. Like every mistake she’s made the past few months is a stone weighing on top of her chest. She doesn’t know what else to do but  crawl into her pick up truck and drive. The route to her parents house is burned into her memory at this point, each exit and turn a reflex, even though she doesn’t visit that much. She calls them from the road, lets them know to expect her. 

Immediately, they can tell something is wrong but neither of them say anything on the phone. And even when she arrives at the farm and lets her father pull her into a hug, no one dares to ask her what’s wrong. There are no attempts at probing her reasons for visiting her parents so soon after her last trip. Which Yelena appreciates. But they do call Natasha. Yelena only knows this because her sister shows up within a couple of hours of Yelena arriving at the farm herself. Even Natasha avoids outright asking her what’s wrong. Though Yelena is almost positive that she already knows. 

That night, when they all sit down to eat together, they pretend that both Yelena and Natasha’s appearance isn’t a big deal. 

Citing a family emergency, Yelena’s professors let her do her coursework online for the next week. She’s racked up a lot of good will by being the best student in almost all of her classes with the highest standing. Yelena needs to be as far away from campus as possible to decrease her chances of running into Kate. 

Shame and anger still act like anchors in her chest, weighing her down as she helps her parents feed the pigs and do the dishes. 

She feels like a child for running away. But she never really got to be a child so maybe this is her right. She never got to have dramatic friend break ups or regular break ups during her life so maybe she’s making up for lost time by running away to her parent’s house.

Towards the end of Yelena’s third day at the farm, Natasha finds her outside on the back porch, sitting on the wood floor, and looking out at the wilderness that stretched on along her parent’s property. Yelena can tell from her expression that their time of avoiding Kate has come to an end.

Natasha lowers herself to the ground beside Yelena. 

“You ready to talk?” she asks. 

“No.”

“Well, we’re gonna do it anyway.”

Yelena rolls her eyes but doesn’t attempt to get up and leave. She remains sitting near the railing, looking out at the vast amount of open space that surrounded them. Much different than what she used to in New York.

“You like her?” Natasha asks. Her face is free of any kind of judgment or hint of knowing. Yelena is brought back to a cafe in the city, sitting across from Natasha as she asked her the same question weeks ago.

“Of course I like her,” Yelena says. “Everyone likes Kate.”

Natasha stares at her, arching her brow as if to say you know that’s not what I mean. 

They sit in patient silence for a few moments before Yelena gives. “Yes,” she says, some of the tension melting out of her shoulders as Natasha’s expression remains unchanged. “I do.” 

A certain clarity has passed over Yelena in the last few days. She’s still miserable but she can’t pretend not to feel the way she does anymore. She can’t pretend her feelings for Kate don’t exist. 

The way Yelena’s been acting over the last few weeks, hell, the last few months, have been evidence of something she hasn’t been willing to face until now. All the longing and jealousy and contentment she’s experienced with Kate, she sees it all with clearer vision. 

Her feelings are painful and embarrassing but they're easier to face in her parent’s house with plenty of space between her and the girl she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about for months. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” Natasha says. “And you screwed it up, right?”

Yelena whips her head towards her sister, ready to shove her but Natasha puts her hands up. “Hey, I’m just assuming from your expression,” she says. “You look like you just killed a puppy.”

“I think I might've done something worse,” Yelena says. “Or just as bad.”

“What did you do?”

“I said some things that she wasn’t meant to hear.”

Natasha hums. And Yelena expects her to ask about what she said. But instead, Natasha sits quietly for a few moments, thinking, before she speaks again.

“You know,” she says. “You’ve been free for three years. And you’ve done a lot. You’re in college, you have an unbelievable g.p.a, you have a happy, clean home with Ana, Oksana and Sonya. You’re safe.” She pauses, glancing up at Yelena with sympathetic eyes. “But you haven’t let anyone in other than us.”

“I don’t need anyone else. I don’t even-” Yelena starts to say that she doesn’t need anyone but she’s self aware enough to know that that’s not true. Not really. 

With years of being on her own, isolated in her mind without control over her body, her actions, her words, Yelena knew she could survive in any circumstance, whether she was alone or not. But she knew she’d prefer not to be alone. She knew she was at her worst when she was alone.

The back door swings open and Melina comes out onto the porch, interrupting Yelena’s train of thought. “What are my daughters doing out here without a jacket?”

“It’s seventy degrees out,” Natasha says.

“Still, it could rain and then you’d get a cold and sneeze all over my furniture.”

Natasha and their mother hold eye contact. Something passes between them before Natasha stands up. “I’ll help dad with dinner,” she says. She walks into the house, leaving Melina and Yelena alone out on the patio. She walks towards the railing, taking a seat next to Yelena so her feet dangle off the porch. 

“You know we love having you here,” she says. “We don’t get to see you girls much now that you live in the city and you don’t answer my calls as often as I’d like.”

Yelena rolls her eyes. 

“But you’re still welcome here anytime.”

“But?” 

Her expression is softer than Yelena expects when she looks at her. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong but maybe I might be able to help.”

Yelena shakes her head, deep in a pity party. “You can’t help.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not something you can fix. It’s just me,” Yelena says. “I think I’m just broken.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I hurt a girl who didn’t deserve it.” Yelena forces the words out, something tight and uncomfortable blooming in her chest. “Who I really like but, for some reason, I rather hurt her than let her…”

“Love you?”

Yelena nods, her jaw tight and her throat thick. Her and Melina never talked about their feelings, even more so than Natasha and Alexei. Even as a child, she remembers her mom soothing the tears away but always stressing that big girls don't cry . Yelena supposes it’s something she’s never forgotten; something internalized like many things from her childhood.

“You may be broken but so is everyone,” Melina says, surprising Yelena. “We are all just trying to fix ourselves, make it hurt less.”

Melina must see the surprise on her face. She turns towards Yelena, taking her hands within her own as she holds Yelena’s gaze. “Listen to me. I’m sorry for everything you had to go through. It’s unfair, everything you had to become when you were still a little girl.” The discomfort in Yelena’s chest grows, pushing up into her throat and making it hard to swallow. “You are still learning how to live,” Melina says. “How to make it hurt less. And you’re doing a better job than me or your papa did at your age. It is okay to fall down and make mistakes. You just have to get back up.”

Yelena can’t stop the heat that builds behind her eyes and slides down her cheeks. She hates the sensation but she can’t hold them back. Melina’s hands slide up to hold her face, wiping away her tears with her thumb. Yelena feels like she’s five years old again. It makes her chest constrict even more. 

“I don’t know how.”

“Easy,” Melina says. “One step at a time.”

“I’ve been this way for so long,” Yelena says, her voice rough and smaller than it’s ever been before. “I don’t know how else to be.”

“That is not true,” Melina says, the tenderness in her eyes almost unbearable. “You think you are a monster. Incapable of love. But you have so much love in your heart.” The corners of her mouth quirk up, a small smile spreading across her lips as she holds Yelena’s gaze. “For Natasha, the widows, even us. It’s fear that holds you back. Love is not a matter of knowing, but doing. I did not know how to love your papa but I did it anyway. Same with you girls.”

Melina reaches into her pocket, procuring a rag to wipe away the wetness along Yelena’s cheeks. 

“What do you want?” she asks, voice still soft as she holds Yelena face in one hand, dabbing at her tears with the other.

“I want to fix things with Kate.”

“See? Simple answer.”

“But how do I do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m just your mother. Ask this Kate.”

“She won’t talk to me.”

“Have you tried?”

Embarrassment warms Yelena’s face as she shakes her head. Melina quirks a brow at her and steadily begins to rise to her feet. She reaches a hand out to Yelena. 

Yelena hates to admit it but she feels immensely better by the time she follows her mother inside for dinner. And it’s nice. It’s been a while since they’ve all been together like this, been in the same house for this long. They bicker and raise their voices at one another but it feels good. It feels like family. It fills Yelena with enough warmth and security that she feels slightly better about what she has to do.  

***

It might be underwhelming but Yelena’s first step towards fixing things starts with a text. The text thread between Kate and Yelena shows that neither of them have attempted to talk to the other in three weeks. And even before then,  their usual everyday correspondence had died down to a sporadic handful of texts every other day. Yelena’s fault. But she pushes aside the guilt and doubt that makes her hands shake and texts Kate.

It’s a short and simple message, asking if Yelena could come over and talk. She’s not sure how she would react to hearing Kate’s voice for the first time in almost a week so a text seems to be the safer option. 

Surprisingly, Kate responds barely a minute later. 

Yelena knocks at Kate’s front door an hour later. She hears the unlocking of several bolts and chains before the door inches open. Kate doesn’t usher her in or greet her. She’s standing a few feet away, leaning against the back of her couch, when Yelena shuts the door behind her. Her arms are folded across a worn archery t-shirt from high school, sweatpants snug on her hips and her hair pulled up into a loose ponytail. Longing blooms thick and heavy in Yelena’s chest. She forgets why she’s here for a few moments. But, once she remembers, her nerves come back full force. Anxious balls of lead rest heavily in the pit of her stomach. A restlessness hums through her body. She wants to move, to run. To sprint back out the door and down the steps. But, keeping her eyes on Kate, she remains still. Barely breathing even though her heart hammers painfully within her chest.

This is the most frightened Yelena has ever been in her post-red room life. She’s thought about all the things she wants to say and every possible way to say them. But nothing has felt right. None of the apologies in her head feel adequate enough in attempting to mend Kate’s pain. Without any plan, Yelena voices the first words that come to mind.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she says.

“What?” Kate shifts along the couch, straightening her back as she leans forward. Eyes carefully scrutinizing Yelena. 

“I want to fix this,” Yelena says. “I want to apologize. I want to…” She wants a lot of things. She’s thought about it incessantly the last few days. She wants to be better. She wants to be the kind of person who won’t hurt Kate. The kind of person deserving of her, who she can love. But Yelena doesn’t know if she can say all of that just yet. 

“I don’t know how this is supposed to go. I don’t know what to do with…this”-Yelena gestures in between them-“Everything I feel for you. I’m- I’m not good at this.”

Kate pushes off of the back of her couch, taking a step towards her. “Yelena,” she says. “Why are you here?”

“I want to be better. I want to try.”

“Try what?”

“I really like you. More than I’ve ever liked anyone really.” Yelena pauses to breathe and Kate takes the opportunity to interject.

“Why would you say those things about me?” she asks. “About us then? Why did-” Kate’s hands flail about the air in front of her as if she’s physically grasping for words and reasons. “Why did you ghost me?”

“I didn’t mean what I said. Well, not all of it. You are a superhero wannabe but that’s not a bad thing and the rest I only said because I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“I’ve never been happy before, really happy. Not since I was a little girl,” Yelena says. “It was a short time before my world got ripped away from me. I only just found contentment again.” Yelena swallows thickly, clenching her fists at her side and fighting the urge to fidget with the hem of her shirt. She’s never bared herself so openly to someone before. Her whole body rebels against it but she stands her ground, pushing the words out of her mouth despite the discomfort. “I haven’t had anyone like you in my life before. I’ve never done or felt anything like this before,” Yelena says. She glances up at Kate, holding her gaze. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, that I was an idiot and didn’t talk to you.”

Kate’s lips flatten into a thin line as she runs a hand through her hair. Her silence stretches on for several moments. With each second that passes, Yelena’s anguish and uncertainty grows until she’s sure Kate is going to kick her out as soon as she speaks.

“I think we went about this whole thing wrong,” Kate says. 

“What?”

“I knew I had feelings for you when we first started sleeping together. And you said you didn’t want that,” Kate says, one hand on her hip while the other continues to scratch at the back of her head, her gaze lowered towards the floor. “I thought I could ignore my feelings but, obviously, I was wrong. Listen, I know you’re scared and you’re working through stuff but this whole time I just wanted to be your friend. Just someone you cared about and vice versa, you know. I didn’t- Maybe, I wanted more but I would never- I wouldn’t push-”

“I know,” Yelena says. “You didn’t and wouldn’t push. That’s why I-” In her rush to get out all of her words, Yelena almost drops the word love like a bomb in this already fragile situation. But she catches herself, barely a moment’s pause in between words. “-like you so much.”

She hopes Kate doesn’t notice the hesitation as she barrels on. “I trust you. I just didn’t trust myself. I’m sorry I hurt you and made a mess of all this.” She takes a moment to breathe, realizing her heart is still beating at an erratic pace. In her pause, silence settles between them again. But Yelena is anxious to keep them talking. “I don’t know what else to say,” she says. “I just miss you. I know none of this makes up for how I’ve acted. And I understand if you never want to speak to me again.”

“Maybe we should start over,” Kate says. Her shoulders are tense, expression guarded, but she still eases closer to Yelena as she speaks.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to be with you. I do,” Kate says, full stop. No hesitation or tremble in her voice. “But I want a real relationship. I want dates and meeting the important people in your life. I don’t want just sex. I mean-” Kate stumbles a little then, pink staining her cheeks. “Of course, I would like to keep having sex but the other stuff is important too.”

Yelena doesn’t know what to say. She’s already laid out as much of her feelings as she can stand to, putting them at the mercy of Kate. This isn’t the answer she was expecting. But the words still spark a fire in her chest. Like there’s a live wire on the loose inside of her, burning with every secret desire she never allowed herself to dwell on or wish for. Every fantasy she’s ever had of being something more with Kate.

“Do you wanna see my bedroom?” Yelena asks. 

Kate’s brows lift in surprise, eyes widening. But all she says is: “I’ve never seen your room before.”

It doesn’t take them long to get to Yelena’s apartment.

Sonya and Ana are at a party somewhere, unlikely to be home for several more hours until blue starts to peek into the night sky. Oksana is at work, covering a late shift, according to the note on their fridge, placed under a magnet from their trip to Morocco last summer. 

The apartment would be theirs for the night it seems. 

Kate has never been inside Yelena’s apartment. She’s never really met her roommates either. Yelena had made sure to draw some kind of messy line between Kate’s life and her own. But, grasping Kate’s hand and leading her through the kitchen, watching her take in the single plate in the sink and the bundle of gift shop mugs drying on the dish rack, Yelena slowly starts to erase the line. She doesn’t want it anymore. 

She gives Kate a tiny tour through their decent-sized apartment. The kitchen table with Oksana’s textbooks, notebooks, highlighters, etc. Sonya’s coat still hanging off the back of one of the chairs. The living room with the couch Natasha had bought them as a housewarming present. The throw pillows Yelena and Ana had painstakingly picked out from various thrift stores and Ikea, making sure they felt right in their new home. The worn copy of Leaves of Grass that had been sitting on the coffee table since they moved in. Kate takes it all in with wondrous eyes, quietly observing. 

Yelena’s hold on Kate’s hand tightens almost imperceptibly as they edge towards her bedroom door. The only people to ever see her bedroom were her roommates and Natasha. Even her parents hadn’t seen it since Yelena had moved to the city. It’s Yelena’s own private space. As close as she could get to a personal sanctuary. Something she had spent years building. 

Yelena watches as Kate takes in her room as a whole before focusing on every individual inch. It’s a small space but everything in it belongs to Yelena. A point she takes pride in. They weren’t allowed much in the red room which is maybe why all of the widows in her home relished in material things such as clothes, books and gift shop trinkets. 

Her bedroom walls are decorated with the evidence of Yelena’s freed life. Pictures, paintings and souvenirs of memories unspoiled by death or espionage. Mementos from places she had gone, things she had done, without a voice in her head and somebody else behind the wheel of her body. 

Yelena stays standing by the door, near the foot of her bed, as Kate inspects her walls up close. 

***

Kate is still angry. Of course, she is. Yelena isn’t allowed a free pass after just one apology. But, still, Kate can appreciate the enormity of her showing up on her front step, hat in hand, and offering her everything Kate had been wanting for months. She wishes her anger was more of a burning, spiteful kind that she could keep hold of for as long as she wants. But most of her righteous indignation had faded as soon as Yelena said sorry. She feels kinda pathetic and a little childish for following Yelena to her apartment, implying that she’s accepted her apology. But Yelena is extending an olive branch Kate didn’t know she was desperate for until it was offered to her. Even with all the crap Yelena had put her through, Kate knows no one has been here before, been in Yelena’s life exactly like Kate is. It shouldn’t mitigate some of the anguish Kate’s been feeling the past couple of weeks but it does. In the silence of Yelena’s bedroom, she feels special. 

Plus, Yelena isn’t done apologizing. When Kate turns around to press their lips together, a soft sorry is whispered into her mouth. Kate grips her like she’s afraid she’s going to float away from her. Yelena holds her the same way. 

It’s not rushed. Not like the last few times they were together, when it felt like it might be the last time. They undress each other with slow, gentle hands. Their kisses are the same. 

Kate touches Yelena like she’s taking her time. And she is. She relishes in every graze and brush of skin. Before, there was some part of Kate always holding herself back. Always trying to reign in her affection and adoration for Yelena on some level. But now that Yelena has given Kate and herself permission to feel freely, Kate doesn’t hold anything back. 

All the anger and resentment has mostly subsided. It’s replaced by the sweet rush of relief and pleasure as she grasps Yelena in her hands, nuzzles her nose along the scent gland at her neck. She’s drowning in pheromones that only make her body more languid and pliable as Yelena arches into her. Kate marvels at the feel of Yelena against her, solid and warm.

Yelena sighs into her mouth as their bodies align. Kate’s body perfectly covers her own, their stomachs and chests sliding against one another. Kate lets out a little noise of satisfaction at the sensation. 

“I’m sorry,” Yelena says moments after Kate has slipped inside. She presses her lips to Kate’s temple. “I’m sorry,” she says again. She keeps saying it, pressing sorrys’ into Kate’s skin even as she starts to shift her hips against her. Eventually her words taper off into little moans and mewls as Kate picks up her pace, nose pressed tightly to Yelena’s scent gland. She huffs the familiar musk like it's a drug, tasting cinnamon rolls and sweat. 

At some point, the front door opens and shuts down the hall. Followed by the jiggling of keys and rustling of coats. At least one of Yelena’s roommates is home. Kate pauses, preparing to stop for the night, but Yelena only folds her legs around Kate’s waist, holding her in place. They keep going. They’re quiet but Kate is sure the smell of both of their pheromones is pungent even through Yelena’s bedroom door. 

They don’t stop until Yelena falls asleep. Which is new. Usually, Kate is the first one to fall asleep after sex. 

In the quiet warmth of Yelena’s bedroom, Kate allows herself to be awed by the fact that this is the first time she’s slept over at Yelena’s apartment. In her bed. With Yelena wrapped around her like a second comforter, Kate feels settled in a way she hasn’t been in a long while. Even before their fight, Kate always felt a vague sliver of fear that she’d somehow lose Yelena, that she'd be gone from her life in a flash at any moment's notice. 

Neither of them can promise each other permanency or anything really concrete other than honesty and communication. But it’s enough for now. It’s more than what they had before. It’s better. 

***

Yelena wakes up to an empty bed. Upon feeling the vacant space where Kate had been, a small panic builds in her chest. She slides out of bed. Kate’s sweater and jeans are still on her bedroom floor. She glances at the clock on her bedside table. Almost ten a.m. Late for Yelena. Very late. Sliding on the sweater and a pair of shorts, she wanders out of her bedroom and into the hall. She hears the clang of dishes and low murmurs radiating from the kitchen. She follows the noise until she’s standing in the kitchen doorway, her brain taking a second to process the image in front of her. Kate stands at the counter, her back to Yelena, in the boxers and t-shirt she had worn the previous night. Ana and Oksana sit at the table, sleep still prominent in their expressions, while Sonya pours several mugs of coffee next to Kate. They’re engaged in a conversation Yelena only catches the tail end of when Sonya sees her, grinning at her over Kate’s shoulder.

“Morning, Lena,” Sonya says. Kate turns around, following Sonya’s gaze to Yelena in the doorway. “Hey,” Kate says, lips quirked up and giving Yelena a look that makes her wish no one else was in the kitchen but her and Kate. 

“Hey,” she says. working hard to keep her voice steady and normal.

“I was gonna make you breakfast but then I remembered that I don’t know how to cook so I ordered takeout instead,” Kate says. “For your roommates too.”

“Yes, thank you, Kate,” Ana says, still in her pajama bottoms with her eyes barely open. 

“You’re a God send,” Oksana says, eyes fully closed as she holds her head in her hands. 

Yelena chuckles and feels the need to wrap her arms around Kate, and nestle her head into the warmth of her neck. But she’s aware of her roommates watching them. And, for as much progress as they had made last night, Yelena is still Yelena. Not one for PDA. Especially in front of her widows. Not with the beginning of a smirk on Sonya’s lips already taunting her over Kate’s shoulder. 

But Kate’s grinning down at her in a way she feels in her gut. In a way that reminds her that she absolutely doesn’t deserve the girl in front of her but, for some reason, Kate chose her anyway. Kate held her close, accepted her many apologies and made her feel loved in a way she hadn’t ever felt before. 

Fuck it. She closes the distance between them to place a peck on her cheek, leaning in to whisper her thanks before shoving Sonya out of the way to make her own cup of coffee. 

After their take out arrives, Kate and Yelena join her roommates at the kitchen table. 

***

The barbeque is scheduled for the weekend before finals. Their last exams of the year before Summer, before Kate graduates and starts her internship at Bishop Security under her mother. Before Yelena takes off for a few weeks with the widows to help Melina make more counteragent and help the remaining widows acclimate to free society. Their next couple of months were looking pretty full. 

Clint calls them to remind them about it a few days before they plan to fly out even though Kate has already assured him that they’d be there. His voice buzzes in her ear, very dad-like, as Kate climbs the steps up to her apartment. 

She pushes open her front door, her hands full of pizza, and Yelena trailing behind her, as she ends the call with a promise to see him that weekend. Lucky immediately bounds off the couch, running towards Yelena who showers him in affection, pressing kisses and coos into the top of his head. She rolls her eyes as she places the pizza on the table and grabs two plates from the cupboard. At least one of us is getting kisses . Moments later, Yelena stands and presses her lips to Kate’s, as if reading her mind. Which is a feeling she’s been experiencing more and more lately. 

They had fallen into a stable routine the last few months. Not unlike their previous routine when they were “just” sleeping together except, this time the word girlfriend is tossed around a lot more. It made Kate giddy, similar to how she felt when Clint gifted her new trick arrows. 

Yelena spends her time divided pretty evenly between her apartment and Kate’s. She’s made it clear that while she loved Kate (that sentiment still sent Kate’s heart fluttering in her chest) and spending time with her, that she still needs to maintain her independence in whatever ways she could. One way being spending most nights in her own bed. Kate respects that. But, that being said, half of her things were at Kate’s apartment. And most of the clothes in her closet belong to Kate. Their routine was bound to change with Kate officially starting at Bishop Securities and Yelena going into her final year. But Kate’s sure they could adapt and manage. They’ve done well so far. 

After a few more soft pecks on Kate’s lips, Yelena bends back down to coo at her dog. Lucky had clearly chosen Yelena as his favorite even though Kate had literally saved his life. But Kate couldn’t really blame him. 

“Did your mother feed you the food that I bought for you?” Yelena asks, face nuzzling into the fur on top of Lucky’s head. “That I specifically asked her to feed you instead of pizza?”

Kate rolls her eyes. “Yes, she did,” she says. She bends down to scratch Lucky under the chin before plopping down into a chair at the kitchen table. “You know, you keep spoiling him like this, he’s gonna turn into a real brat.”

“Oh, like his mother?” Yelena says, standing up. She walks over to Kate and falls into her lap. Kate catches her with a grunt, arms reflexively wrapping around her back and thighs. 

“I’m not a brat,” Kate says. But her words are weak and half hearted as Yelena’s hands slide up her collarbones. 

Yelena hums into her lips as she presses their mouths together. “Everything about you begs to differ.”

“Rude,” Kate says, nose brushing against Yelena’s temple. “I thought you liked me.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” Yelena says, her lips ghosting over Kate’s. “I like it when you’re bratty.”

They forget the pizza as Yelena slips her tongue into Kate’s mouth and Kate’s hands tighten along her thighs. They’re interrupted a few minutes later by Lucky whining as he knocks his head against their legs, begging for attention and food. 

Yelena laughs, pushing at Kate’s chest as she breaks the kiss. The sound fills her up almost as well as the pizza they’re about to have. 

The morning they leave for the airport, having half an hour to spare before they need to go, Yelena purrs into Kate’s neck as she fucks her into the front door. While their relationship has leveled out to a satisfying and blissful stability, their sex life is still explosive in the most delicious way. Officializing things had only emboldened their respective sex drives. The angry, red lines trailing down her back and the bruises decorating the skin beneath her shirt were proof of that. Yelena’s own body didn’t fare much better. 

On the plane and in the car ride over to Clint’s house, an excited, antsy energy rushes through Kate. She hasn’t seen the Barton’s in months. And this would be the first time seeing them with Yelena in tow as her girlfriend . It’s fine. Totally fine. If Kate is a little nervous, then that was to be expected. As her girlfriend had let her know several weeks ago, Yelena’s parents would be in attendance. Not only that but almost every Avenger she had admired and looked up to as a kid. People whose posters she had had on her childhood bedroom walls. That alone was cause enough for the anxiety twisting in her gut. 

She tries not to think too hard about it as they pull up to the farm. Her eagerness to see everyone outweighs whatever nerves she has as she spots Clint and Laura on the front porch. 

“Good to see you guys,” Clint says, wrapping an arm around Kate’s shoulders as he pulls her in for a hug. Laura does the same with Yelena a foot away from them. 

“We set up the same room you used last time you stayed over,” Clint says, leading them into the house. The rest of the conversation gets sidelined as the Barton kids quickly swarm them. Nate jumps at Yelena’s legs, wrapping his tiny arms around her knees, while Lila and Cooper talk over one another, trying to get Kate’s attention. 

“Well, you know the way,” Clint says, going to the living room and plopping down into his recliner. Laura rolls her eyes. “Let us know if you need anything,” she says, scooping Nate up into her arms and following Clint into the living room. The two oldest Barton kids soon follow after Kate assures them that they’ll catch up after she puts her luggage away. 

In the guest room, Kate falls face first onto the soft, queen sized bed resting against the center of the wall. 

“Take your shoes off,” Yelena says, placing her bag on top of the dresser beside the bed. “We’re not savages.”

Kate doesn’t respond in words. Only groans as she kicks off her slip ons (her go-to airport shoes) so they hit the floor with a quiet thump. Kate doesn’t need to lift her head from the comforter to know Yelena is rolling her eyes. She hears Yelena patiently and efficiently untie the laces of her boots before placing them on the side of the bed and sitting at the head of the bed. Her legs barely brush Kate as she adjusts on the mattress. 

With her face still buried in the sheets, Kate rests her hand along Yelena’s jean-clad calf. Her thumb circles the muscle and Kate feels Yelena relax under her grip. As the tension leaves her body, Kate gets a familiar taste of cinnamon on the back of her tongue. Faint but enough to stir something between Kate’s legs. 

Yelena’s heat ended days ago. But weak traces of pheromones still caught Kate off guard in the aftermath. It happens sometimes. Especially since Kate is pretty sure their cycles are attempting to line up. Which means they’ve been together long enough that their own bodies are starting to recognize it.

“You alright, Kate Bishop?” Yelena asks. 

Kate realizes her grip on Yelena’s leg has tightened incrementally the longer Yelena’s pheromones dance in her nostrils. “Yeah, sorry,” Kate says, relaxing her hand. She lifts her head, meeting Yelena’s eyes above her. The skin between her brows is wrinkled in concern. 

She allows herself a few moments to simply look at her girlfriend. At the socks with glow in the dark stars Yelena had excitedly bought for herself last week. At Kate’s high school archery team sweatshirt that’s draped along her upper body, the sleeves pillowing along her biceps with how much Yelena had to roll them up. At the warmth swirling in her eyes, so tangible and potent that Kate wants to drink it all up, fill herself with the affection Yelena has for her. 

“Kate?”

“Sorry.” Kate shakes her head, rising until she’s on her knees, facing Yelena who looks at her with curious and confused eyes. 

In one quick movement, Kate closes the distance between them until she’s hovering over Yelena, their lips slotted together. Yelena moans softly into the kiss and Kate melts against her, a familiar fire quickly roaring to life in her gut. Her hands cup Yelena’s jaw as their tongues slide against one another, trying to get more of that impossible feeling that expands in Kate’s chest with each noise Yelena makes. She presses tighter against Yelena, trying to get as close as she can. A new urgency tears through her and if she doesn’t have Yelena on her back in ten seconds-

“Really, right now?” Yelena asks, smirking into Kate’s mouth with a tiny laugh that doesn’t help the situation. “We’ve barely been here for fifteen minutes.”

Kate pauses all movement, her grip on Yelena slackening. She doesn’t realize how hard she’s breathing until she breaks away from Yelena. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” Kate says, still breathless. “Obviously. I just-”

“I want to,” Yelena says, hands sliding up under the back of Kate’s own sweater. “I’m just worried about the Barton’s. It’d be suspicious if we spent too much time up here unpacking , no?”

“We could say we’re jet lagged,” Kate suggests. 

Yelena laughs. “It’s only an hour difference.”

“Fair point,” Kate says. “Well, I can be quick.”

Yelena chuckles again. “I know you can.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know what it means, маленький ястреб.”

Kate rolls her eyes, heat blossoming across her cheeks. “My point is we can be quick,” Kate says, leaning forward until her forehead rests against Yelena’s. “If you want to.”

“I want to,” Yelena says, lips ghosting over Kate’s. 

“Awesome.”

Yelena exhales a small sound of amusement, her hands curling into the back of Kate’s sweater, before connecting their lips again. 

Despite making their way downstairs only twenty minutes later, Clint and Laura still give both of them knowing looks (Clint’s expression leans more towards disgust while Laura’s wears an amused smile). Yelena shrugs them off while Kate sports a blush all throughout dinner.

***

Guests start arriving for the barbeque the day after Yelena and Kate arrive at the Barton house. They’re one of the few guests without casual access to a private jet or flying capabilities so they needed the extra time. Yelena also wanted time to settle in at the Barton farm before being surrounded by her family and a slew of people she barely knew and couldn’t stand on principle (while the Avengers had become Natasha’s second family and were Kate’s ultimate aspiration, they were still posers with no real rules or subtlety). 

Laura warns her that people should start arriving at noon. Yelena sets her alarm for eight a.m. on the off chance that her body’s natural clock fails her. But, luckily, she’s up and alert five minutes before her alarm goes off. Quietly, she slips out from under the sheets as Kate, one foot hanging off the side of the bed and her pillow twisted into an impossible shape beneath her, continues to sleep. 

Yelena can hear Laura and Clint moving around the house, getting things ready, as she slips outside. With an overwhelming restlessness humming through her body, Yelena makes her way towards the tree stump in the yard and the ax sticking out of it. The wood pile seems to be dwindling so Yelena is doing Barton a favor by chopping as many blocks as she can. Yelena doesn’t know how long she swings the ax for. But it's long enough to create a strain in her arms and sweat to bead along her forehead. Not to mention for the woodpile to triple in size. 

With the buzzing of her body sufficiently dimmed and now fully awake, she walks into the kitchen for a quick snack and a soft good morning to Laura. It’s still in the house as Yelena slips back into the guestroom. Kate is still in the same position she left her in. 

Yelena shrugs out of her clothes and heads for the bathroom. In the warmth and quiet of the shower, her mind drifts to the girl asleep in the other room, one of Yelena’s favorite rings hanging off a chain around her neck. Everything is both inexplicably different and fundamentally the same since they’ve started “officially” dating. Their lives have settled within one another over the past few months. Movie nights and parties at Greer and Franny’s have become a semi-regular occurrence. As has Kate simply hanging out around Yelena’s apartment, getting to know her roommates. All of which thoroughly enjoyed having Kate around if only to poke fun at her. 

Her first day outside of the red room, Yelena had been sure that it was the best day of her life. That it couldn’t get any better after years of chemical subjugation and endless carnage. But Yelena was wrong. Having Kate brought her a certain peace and fulfillment she hadn’t thought possible. Not to say that everything is perfect. 

It might be wonderful most of the time but there are still less than happy moments. Like when Yelena’s panic attacks come back in a violent fury in the middle of the night and Kate has to hold her down into the bed while she thrashes. Or when her self loathing bubbles up to the surface from where she normally keeps it hidden and she buries herself away in her bedroom for a couple of days. Kate bares with her through it all though. She holds on and that’s really all Yelena can ask for. 

A few hours later, after Kate has finally woken up and slid into a clean pair of pants, Yelena and her make their way downstairs. 

Several people have arrived early. All of them avengers. Yelena breaks off from Kate, letting her rub elbows with all the people she’s admired over the years and who she hopes to be her future colleagues. Kate’s hero aspirations haven’t withered. Not that Yelena expected them to. They’re as strong as ever and Yelena is doing her best to be supportive even if the avengers are posers. She helps Laura carry out bowls of chips and fruit while at the same time keeping her eye on Kate as she talks with Sam Wilson, Carol Danvers and Clint near the grill. Kate must say something funny because both Sam and Carol burst into laughs and a wide, satisfied grin takes over her face. Beside Kate, something like pride glitters in Clint’s face, a small smile crossing his lips as he flips burgers. Organizing paper plates and plastic cups, Yelena’s own lips quirk upward as she hears Kate launch into the story of how she met Clint. A story Yelena herself has heard dozens of times. 

As the party goes on, Yelena sticks with the Barton kids as more people arrive. Her usual safety nets. Lila tells her stories of past basketball glories and everything she’s been up to in school and Yelena listens with rapt attention. Both because she cares about her and also because it’s a young girl’s childhood that she never got to experience for herself. Her excitement for all the “small” things in Lila’s life is genuine. 

While Kate gets comfortable socializing with all manner of avenger, Yelena stays on the sidelines for most of the barbeque, helping Laura with whatever she can or keeping the kids entertained. If she’s not with the Bartons then she’s being accosted by her parents who don’t feel the need to be any less embarrassing or annoying outside of their home. 

The only reason Yelena makes her way towards them is because she can see Kate has, unfortunately, been pulled into their orbit. 

Kate has talked to them through facetime a handful of times, normally in passing when her mother or father shouts a question at Kate who feels compelled to interact with them despite Yelena’s assurances it’s unnecessary. She hopes the previous exposure to her parents makes it a bit easier to deal with them in person. Like right now, for instance, when her father attempts to arm wrestle Kate. 

“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kate says. “Sir.”

A development Yelena has recently observed with a large amount of amusement and affection is Kate’s need to be as polite and well mannered as possible with her parents. A lot of sirs’ and ma’ams dropped during their brief exchanges. Melina assures Kate it's enough to refer to her by her first name but Alexei seems to bask in the overly formal address.

“Alexei, you could break her arm in half,” her mom says, mouth wrinkled in disdain.  “Go challenge one of those aliens or Gods if you want to play.”

Her dad’s brows rise across his forehead, wrinkled as he thinks. “That’s not a bad idea,” he say. Yelena watches in horror as her dad tries to convince Banner to wrestle him. It’s not long before Natasha steps in, shoving their father on his chest and asking what’s wrong with you? 

“Why did you bring him?” Yelena asks. “You know he was going to do this.”

“I thought it'd be best to let him learn his lesson by getting squashed by a hulk,” Melina says. 

“Couldn’t that kill him?” Kate asks. 

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Just break a few bones.”

The barbeque lasts long after sunset. Nate is asleep on her lap by the time people start leaving. Clean up only takes twenty minutes as Kate, Yelena, Natasha, and a few other stragglers stay to help. 

When they finally make it up to the guest room, Kate is still a little drunk and Yelena is exhausted. Like the previous day, Kate lands face first on the bed. She groans into the mattress, spreading out her limbs like a starfish. 

“Your dad asked me when we were gonna give him grandchildren,” she says. Half of her face is pressed into her pillow, eyes closed and looking on the verge of sleep. 

Yelena strips off her top and bra as she walks along the room in search of a hair tie. She finds several buried at the bottom of Kate’s bag. “And what did you say?” Yelena asks, putting her hair up. 

“I told him whenever you wanted to.”

Yelena arches her brow even though Kate’s eyes are still closed. “You put the responsibility all on me?”

“Uh huh,” Kate hums into her pillow. 

“We haven’t even talked about kids.” Not necessarily true. Yelena had mentioned her inability to biologically carry children the first time they had sex. But they hadn’t returned to the topic since then.

“Four.”

“What?”

“I want four,” Kate says, voice warm and soft as she edges toward sleep. “I can be persuaded to three but I prefer four.”

“Four kids?”

“Yes. Gender doesn’t matter but I prefer they be all within five years of each other.,” Kate says, surprising Yelena. “Don’t want them to be too distant in age or they won’t be that close.”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

“Oh yeah.” Kate says this as if it were a foregone conclusion, as if Yelena had asked her about the weather and she was simply relaying the fact that it was raining.

“Did you tell my father this?”

“No, I thought you’d get mad at me for telling him.”

Surprisingly, where Yelena expects to feel panic, she just feels a steady calm. Tinged with exhaustion after the day’s party. She’s sure she’s going to freak out about this at some point. But not tonight. Instead, she grasps Kate’s sneakers, dangling off the edge of the bed, and begins to unlace them. “Thank you, you’re the best,” Kate mutters. 

“Four kids?” Yelena asks. She sits with her back to Kate, one bare foot resting on top of Yelena’s thigh while she unties the other sneaker. “You think you can handle that?”

“Sure, I can handle anything I put my mind to.” Kate says it with the easy confidence Yelena has grown accustomed to. Like Yelena just asked her if she could make a trick shot across two buildings. 

“Why four?”

“So there won’t be a middle kid and if they get mad at one sibling, then they have two others to choose from.”

Yelena chuckles, standing up and sliding out of her jeans.

“When do you see yourself having these children?”

“Before thirty five but after twenty seven,” Kate says, giving her another easy answer. “Not too young but also not too old that I’m elderly by the time the youngest graduates high school.”

“You’ve seemed to have thought a lot about this.”

Kate hums but doesn’t say anything else for a moment. Yelena slips an Eagles t-shirt over her head, something she found at the back of Kate’s closet a couple of weeks ago. In the quiet, she makes her way to Kate’s side of the bed. Kate turns over, still fully clothed and a bit blurry around the edges. 

“How bout you?” she asks, eyes still closed. “Kids?”

“I haven’t thought about it.” It’s not necessarily a lie but it’s not a complete truth either. Yelena never lets herself imagine the future. Nothing farther than a few months out from her present. She doesn’t want to set herself up for disappointment. With how she had lived for most of her life, one day at a time to be the best way to get through it. 

Yelena leans down, starting to unbutton Kate’s pants. “Woah,” she says, lips quirking up into a smile. “Buy me dinner first.”

Yelena rolls her eyes, bending down to press a kiss to Kate’s lips. “Lift up your butt so I can take your pants off,” she says. 

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

After stripping Kate down to her sports bra and boxers, Yelena pulls back the covers for both of them to slide under. Immediately, Kate curls into Yelena’s side, nestling her head on top of her chest. “I hope I didn’t freak you out,” Kate says, her fingers dancing along Yelena’s side. “Talking about kids and stuff.”

“You didn’t.”

She didn’t. If anything Yelena felt more grounded. The prospect of a future with Kate, with kids and everything she assumed came with them, lessened whatever fear Yelena normally felt thinking that far in advance. The future didn’t loom like a frightening, unknowable place in the distance anymore. Yelena didn’t know when it had happened but, instead of dread she felt hope and something like excitement at the thought of decades with Kate. 

“It’s too early to think about kids anyway,” Kate says, voice soft against Yelena’s collarbone. “You haven’t even moved into my apartment yet.”

“Who says I would move into your apartment?”

“It’s bigger and you wouldn’t have to pay rent,” Kate says. “Plus there’s Lucky.”

“You make a good point,” Yelena says. Kate hums beneath her chin and doesn’t say anything more. Yelena listens as her breath shifts to the soft, rhythmic pattern Yelena had grown used to while sharing a bed with Kate. For a few minutes, she simply basks in the feel of Kate’s body, the warmth and muscle that perfectly aligns with her own. It’s nothing short of a miracle. 

It’s not long before she follows Kate into sleep. Her last thoughts before fading into unconsciousness are possible names for their future children and how soon she would be able to teach them proper self defense.