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2020-07-26
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Take the Initiative

Summary:

You’ve been head over heels for Steve practically from the moment you met, and you’re finally starting to see the signs of a mutual attraction. But to your frustration, all of the long looks and charged silences aren’t leading to anything. He keeps adding fuel to your fire but doing absolutely nothing about it, and you’re getting tired of this nonsense.

So maybe it’s time for you to take the initiative.

Notes:

Wholly inspired by Stop Desire by Tegan & Sara—I’ve been listening to their NPR Music Tiny Desk Concert version a lot lately!

Work Text:

Steve was driving you crazy.

You’d been head over heels for him practically from the moment you met, and at first you assumed that those feelings were entirely unrequited. But after you officially joined the Avengers and moved into the Tower, you began to suspect that the attraction was mutual. All the signs were there. Lingering glances. Charged silences. Crackles of electricity in every fleeting instance of physical contact. Not to mention that you frequently caught him watching you with an intense, smouldering gaze that brought a flush to your cheeks and a flutter to your stomach.

But the exasperating thing was that all of these long looks and moments of tension weren’t leading to anything. No matter how much you tried to indicate that you were definitely interested and ready for more, Steve kept his distance. Not only was he failing to pick up the hints you were dropping, but sometimes it felt like he was deliberately ignoring them. When you aimed a flirtatious smile at him, he averted his gaze. When you felt his eyes on you from across the room and turned to meet them, he glanced away. When you handed him something and let your fingers brush against his, he immediately drew back.

You weren’t stupid. You knew that it was a waste of energy to chase after someone who wouldn’t reciprocate. But that was the problem: you couldn’t actually work out what Steve wanted. As long as he kept looking at you the way he did, you were stuck in limbo, unable to push aside your feelings but not confident enough to act on them either.

It scared you a little, how willing you were to wait around for him to make a move, how invested you were in the mere possibility of something happening between you. Life would be a lot less frustrating if you could let this all go. But you couldn’t just stop your desire or switch off your feelings. The more you got to know him and the more time you spent in his presence, the harder you fell for him. He kept adding fuel to your fire, and if something didn’t happen soon, you might just burn up entirely.

* * * * *

“Nat, you notice everything, right?” you asked Natasha as you sat down across from her at the dining table.

“It is kind of my job,” she said, raising an eyebrow at you as she put down her coffee.

You toyed with your spoon, dragging it back and forth across your bowl of cereal. “This might sound weird, but… have you noticed the way Steve looks at me?”

The look in her eyes morphed from subtle curiosity to pure mischief. “Yes I have.”

“And, uh… how would you describe it?” you asked, trying and failing to sound totally casual.

Her mouth curved into a knowing smirk as she said, “The word that immediately comes to mind is ‘smitten.’”

You expelled a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, and it came out as a sigh. “So I’m not imagining things? He seems like he’s… interested?”

“No, you’re not imagining it, and yes, he’s clearly interested,” Natasha confirmed. She narrowed her eyes at you. “You don’t normally second-guess yourself. Why would you need my opinion?”

“Because it’s been weeks and he hasn’t done anything about it,” you told her, your voice sharp with frustration. “He keeps looking at me like he wants me, but then every time I try to drop a hint that I’m open to it, he just… does nothing. I was starting to think it might all be in my head.”

An amused smile crossed her face as she listened to you. “Well, you know Steve isn’t the most take-charge guy when it comes to his personal life,” she said with a light shrug. “He doesn’t have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. Maybe you need to take the initiative. Be a little more… direct.”

You narrowed your eyes at the suggestive emphasis she placed on the last word, but she just took a long sip of her coffee, blinking at you innocently over the mug.

You huffed again, but before you could respond, the subject of your conversation walked into the room. You shot Natasha a warning look and busied yourself with your cereal.

“Morning Steve,” Natasha said, her eyes never leaving your face and the smirk remaining on hers.

“Morning,” he replied pleasantly as he headed over to the coffee pot. He flashed Natasha a smile and then glanced over at you.

The moment his eyes met yours, you felt a swoop in your stomach and you had to fight the urge to bite your lip. “Hi Steve,” you greeted him softly. Your tongue darted out to moisten your lips and you offered up a small smile.

You caught a flicker of heat in his eyes as he returned your smile with a tight one of his own, but then he lowered his gaze to the coffee pot, cutting the moment short. You sighed through your nose. How could he keep looking at you like that without doing a damn thing about it?

Natasha caught your eye long enough to throw you that amused smirk again. Go for it, she mouthed at you with a subtle wink.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention to your breakfast, but her words were already burrowing deep in your mind. You glanced over at Steve pouring coffee into his mug, taking in the strong line of his jaw, the long sweep of his lashes, those full and soft-looking lips…

Take the initiative, Natasha had said.

Well, if that was what it was going to take—you could do that.

* * * * *

Unfortunately, opportunities to try the direct approach were few and far between over the next several days. Maria received an influx of new intelligence which resulted in you and the team setting out to raid various HYDRA bases and weapons caches all over Europe in rapid succession. Everything went well—well enough that Tony decided another party was warranted—but you were so mentally and physically exhausted when you returned to the Tower that it took three days of rest and recovery in your suite to feel like a human again. Confronting Steve about his feelings for you was the furthest thing from your mind.

But by the night of the party, you were feeling refreshed, energised, and determined to act on Natasha’s advice. So far your plan for the evening consisted of three steps: show up to the party looking gorgeous enough to make it extremely difficult for Steve to deny his attraction to you; actually enjoy yourself—it had been a long and stressful week, and you deserved a bit of fun; and keep an eye out for any opportunities to catch Steve alone so you could talk to him about what was going on between you. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was a start.

There was a short rap on your door and Natasha’s voice called out, “You ready?”

“Coming,” you called back, giving yourself one last once-over in the mirror. Your burgundy dress was the perfect combination of sexy and tasteful, accentuating the graceful lines and curves of your body. And the extra attention you had paid to styling your hair and applying your makeup had definitely been worth it. You looked damn good, and you knew it. With a satisfied nod at your reflection, you switched off the lights and left your suite.

Natasha’s eyebrows shot up as soon as she saw you, and she gave you an approving smile as she looked you up and down. “Planning to turn some heads tonight?” she asked with a little smirk as you both walked into the elevator.

“Oh, you know,” you said breezily. “Just the one.” You tossed her a conspiratorial wink.

Her smirk widened. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

The elevator doors opened to a party in full swing. The appreciative glances aimed your way from some of the guests were a nice boost to your confidence, but you ignored them as you wound your way through the crowd. There was only one man whose heated gaze you were interested in prompting, and he was on the other side of the room, looking particularly gorgeous in a pair of well-fitted jeans and a blue button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled back to show off his muscular forearms. He was standing next to Rhodey with his back to you as they watched Clint and Tony face off at the pool table.

You swiped a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray as you approached. Clint, leaning casually on his cue, was the first to notice you. He greeted you with raised eyebrows and an exaggerated wolf whistle, and you responded with an equally exaggerated eye-roll and a smile. You turned to say hello to Rhodey, and as you reached over to give him a quick one-armed hug, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that Steve was staring at you intently, his gaze roving hungrily over you. A shiver ran down your spine. There was no mistaking that look.

“Hey Steve,” you said casually, aiming a small smile at him that was maybe a touch more coquettish than usual.

It was like he was on a slight time delay. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed and dragged his eyes up to meet yours. “Hey,” he said finally, traces of desire still lingering in his gaze.

You smile widened and you felt a flash of triumph. Step one of your plan was already working out better than you had hoped.

Tony turned his attention from the pool table long enough to grin at you and say “Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake!” before taking his shot. He missed—badly—and you hid your smirk behind your glass amidst Clint and Rhodey’s good-natured jeering.

“Blaming you for that one,” Tony said, pointing a finger at you as he moved aside for Clint.

“What did I do?” you protested, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re a distraction,” he told you playfully, picking up his drink from the edge of the table. “I mean, just look at you. You’re a distraction to every straight man in this room.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint snorted as he easily sank the eight-ball in the corner pocket.

“What are you saying, Clint? Am I not to your liking?” you teased lightly, placing your hand on your hip.

He straightened up and raised his hands. “Not a comment on your appearance,” he clarified with a grin, shaking his head at you. “Just a comment on Stark’s lack of focus.” He held his cue out to you. “You want next?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, taking it from him. “If I really am that distracting, it should be an easy win.” You shot a sidelong smirk at Rhodey, who snickered into his beer.

“Oh no, I think I’ve had enough humiliating defeats for one evening,” Tony returned. “Cap? You up for it?”

You shifted your gaze over to Steve and managed to catch his eye for a brief second. The fleeting, intense eye contact was enough to set off an entire cloud of butterflies in your stomach, and you took a hearty sip of champagne in an attempt to dampen the sensation.

“No, I’m good,” Steve answered Tony, flashing a small smile that looked slightly forced. “I’m gonna go grab another drink.”

As you watched him walk away, you felt a sharp stab of disappointment. You knew it was a little irrational—after all, it wasn’t like you could have had your confrontation right here in front of everyone. But you liked him, and you liked being with him, and it was pretty dispiriting that whatever this thing was between you, it apparently made him uncomfortable enough to avoid spending time with you, even in a group.

You gave yourself a mental shake to get rid of your negative thoughts and turned to Rhodey with a winning smile. “How about you, Rhodes? Think you can take me on?”

He grinned at you and took the cue that Tony held out to him. “Oh, I know I can.”

As you watched Rhodey rack up, you felt a familiar prickle on the back of your neck. Somewhere in the room, you knew that a pair of gorgeous blue eyes were boring into you. You pushed down the urge to seek them out. After all, the night was young, the alcohol was plentiful, and all your friends were here—for now, you could focus on step two of your plan and just enjoy yourself. There would be plenty of time for step three later.

* * * * *

Apart from several stolen glances and a couple of group conversations, you barely interacted with Steve for the rest of the evening. You tried to follow step three of your plan and keep an eye out for an opportunity to talk to him, but every time you sought him out he was engaged in conversation or surrounded by other people. It quickly became clear that you weren’t going to be able to pull him aside for a private discussion. You couldn’t tell if he was deliberately keeping his distance from you or if it was just a coincidence, but after a while you decided not to let it bother you. Instead, you played pool with the boys, chatted with old friends and new acquaintances, drank enough champagne to get pleasantly tipsy, danced with Maria and Natasha, and did your best to ignore the feeling of Steve’s eyes on you from across the room.

As always, the party gradually wound down until it was just the team, Maria and Rhodey lounging on the couches. You were curled up in an armchair, wiping away tears of laughter at Clint’s story about a mission gone wrong that resulted in him having to make a frantic getaway in nothing but his underwear.

“It can’t have happened like that,” Bruce said, his voice shaking with mirth.

Clint held up both hands. “It’s one hundred per cent true.”

“Widow? Corroboration?” Tony asked Natasha.

She smirked and took a swig from her beer. “Oh, it happened. When we picked him up he had nothing on him except for a tire iron and his boxer-briefs.”

The peals of laughter eventually died down, leaving a natural lull in the conversation. In the quiet, your gaze sought out Steve as if drawn by a magnet, and you felt a flutter in your stomach when you found him watching you.

He immediately glanced away and announced, “I’m turning in.”

There was a general chorus of Goodnights as he got up and started towards the elevator, and you suddenly realised that this might finally be your chance to talk to him alone—after all, your apartments were on the same floor, and the rest of the group looked like they were content to keep the party going up here.

You got to your feet, smoothing your dress down your thighs. “I think I’m gonna head to bed as well,” you said, managing to sound and act completely casual despite your pounding heart. “Goodnight, everyone.”

The chorus of farewells started up again. You met Natasha’s eye as you passed by her chair, and she gave you a sly wink, an almost imperceptible smirk on her face.

Steve was just walking into the elevator when you caught up with him. He hit the button for your floor and you flashed him a tentative smile as the doors closed. A knot of nervous tension began to form in your stomach. Now that you were finally alone with him, enclosed in this small space, you were suddenly and alarmingly tongue-tied. Your loose plan for the evening hadn’t actually included the specifics of what you were going to say to Steve once you finally got him alone, and you were painfully conscious that there wasn’t much time before the elevator reached your floor.

You darted a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, staring resolutely at a spot on the floor in front of him, and he would have been the very picture of nonchalance if it wasn’t for the tension you could see in his jaw. Your heart ached with the strain of everything you felt for him—so much affection, so much longing, so much desire. The silence between you felt both brittle and heavy, like it could shatter apart at any moment from the weight of all the things unsaid.

You couldn’t take this any more. You needed something, anything, to happen. It was time to take all of these simmering feelings and turn them into action.

The elevator stopped moving with a loud ding, and you surged forward to hit the ‘close door’ button on the panel before the doors could slide open.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, thoroughly bewildered.

You turned to face him and took a step forward, lifting your chin to look him directly in the eye. “Steve, what’s going on here?” you asked bluntly, gesturing between the two of you.

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean with you and me.” You met his confused gaze as steadily as you could, though your heart felt like a jack-hammer in your chest. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know there’s something there. But I don’t know where I stand with you. You haven’t made a move, or said anything, or done anything… Are you interested in me or not?”

He stared at you with wide eyes and swallowed, clearly taken aback by your point-blank question. You bit your lip and tried a slightly different tack.

“Look, I like you. A lot,” you admitted much more softly, the knot in your stomach tightening even more. “And I think there’s something between us that’s worth exploring. Something that could be really good.” Your eyes searched his face for any signs of understanding. “I’m not the only one who feels it, am I?”

An agonising few seconds of stunned silence followed your confession. His lips parted like he was about to say something—but then he closed his mouth and just kept looking at you with those intense blue eyes, his eyebrows knitted together, clearly at a loss for words.

Your heart sank.

Pressing your lips together, you nodded slowly. The knot in your stomach now felt like it was made of lead. Your face began to burn with mortification.

“Okay. Just me, then,” you said quietly, turning away to hit the ‘open doors’ button. Eager to escape, you didn’t bother waiting for the doors to fully open before slipping through the widening gap.

“Wait,” Steve’s voice sounded from behind you, and before you could clear the doors he caught your hand and tugged you back inside the elevator.

Taken by surprise, you stumbled over your own feet and pitched towards him. He caught you easily and you threw your hands up against his chest to stop yourself from colliding further into him. For one charged moment, you stared up at his face, hyper-aware of the heat of his hands on your waist and the beating of his heart under your palm.

And then he leaned down and kissed you.

The touch of his lips was electric. You reacted instantly, melting against him and kissing him back fervently, your hands sliding up so you could wind your arms around his neck. He tightened his grip on your waist as he pulled you flush against him, moulding your body to his. His lips were exactly as soft and delicious as you had imagined, and they moved over yours with a deft assertiveness that set your body alight and made you whimper. Your brain emptied of every conscious thought except for one simple refrain: At last.

He finally pulled back so you could both come up for air. When you opened your eyes, his face was still scant inches from yours, and you noticed with a thrill that he was as flushed and breathless as you were.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, earnestly. “It definitely isn’t just you. I haven’t done this much, and I wasn’t sure if I was reading things right, and I just… I didn’t really know how to go about it.”

“This would have been a good start,” you breathed, one hand slipping down to grasp his collar.

“I didn’t want to be too forward,” he murmured. “Didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Why would you have scared me off?”

“Because of how much I like you.” His arms wrapped tighter around your waist, and his voice took on a deeper, rougher edge as he added, “How much I want you.”

A shiver ran through you and you shook your head. “Wouldn’t have been a problem,” you told him, the corner of your lips curling up into a lopsided smile, your eyes burning into his. “I feel the same way about you.”

To demonstrate, you yanked him down so you could capture his lips again, pressing your body even more firmly against his, one hand still gripping his collar and the other carding through his hair. Your forcefulness seemed to take him by surprise—he made a strangled sound in the back of his throat and stumbled back a step until he was pressed against the wall. But he caught up quickly, and within moments his mouth was eagerly slanting over yours again, kissing you back just as fiercely. Keeping one arm wrapped tightly around you to anchor you to him, he slid his other hand down to your hip and then slowly up your side. When the base of his palm grazed the side of your breast, you tore your lips from his with a gasp.

“Steve,” you panted, bringing your hands flat against his chest, pushing slightly to gain an inch of distance. “Wait.”

“Sorry,” he immediately ground out, breathing heavily. Looking abashed, he lowered his eyes as he moved his hands to your waist and gently shifted you back half a step. “It’s… this is too much, isn’t it?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you rushed to reassure him, curling your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “I just think we should probably get out of the elevator.” You indicated the still-open doors with a jerk of your head, smirking.

He released an embarrassed little chuckle and shook his head. “Right.” He let you go and you took a moment to straighten up your dress while he self-consciously smoothed a hand through his hair.

You walked out of the elevator, Steve following close behind. At the end of the hallway, you paused. Your suite was off towards the right, and his was down to the left. You turned to him with a question in your eyes.

Outside of the charged atmosphere of the elevator, he seemed unsure of himself, almost nervous. There was still a lingering heat in his eyes, but his hands were shoved in his pockets and his jaw was clenched. The uncertainty in his demeanour was a sharp contrast from the confident way he had kissed you only minutes earlier, and especially confusing given how clear you had just been about how you felt about him.

It suddenly dawned on you that his hesitance was probably because of his lack of romantic experience. Natasha had warned you about it, and he had said it himself—he hadn’t done this much; he hadn’t been sure that he was reading the situation right; he hadn’t known how to show you or tell you that he wanted more.

Well, if he needed you to take the lead and show him what might come next—you could definitely do that.

“Feel like joining me for a nightcap?” you asked softly with a small, inviting smile. “We can figure this out together. Talk, or… not talk. No pressure.”

The look that came over his face sent tingles of electricity up and down your spine. He nodded slowly. “I’d like that,” he said, voice low.

He fell into step beside you as you walked down the hallway to your suite. The flame that had been burning in your chest since you stepped into the elevator grew hotter with every step, fuelled by the brush of his arm against yours and his smouldering sidelong glances. By the time you opened your door to let you both inside, it was a roaring inferno.

When you closed the door behind him, he turned to you and gave you a slow, heart-stopping smile. And as you moved towards him, your body practically humming with anticipation, your only regret was that you’d waited this long to take the initiative.