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Kate put her beer down with a bang sure to get the Captain’s attention and said, “What’s so entertaining on your phone that you can’t come socialize with your fellow Avengers?”
“I’m trying to figure out if that cat ever gets a cheeseburger,” he replied without looking up.
“So you’re sexting Natasha?”
He snorted and looked at her. Success! “Isn’t Nat here?” He asked.
“Yeah, I think she’s off somewhere with a broom trying to knock Barnes and Barton out of the rafters. Hey, listen.” Kate knew from her few prior interactions with Steve Rogers that she had one shot before he politely-but-firmly excused himself. She was ready to take it. “I just got bet a hundred dollars to kiss you, which I immediately renegotiated into convincing you to kiss me, because consent is important. And I realize a hundy is, like, bullshit money for me, but really it’s about pride, and I think you can relate to that.”
Kate didn’t understand how people could blink slowly, but that was what Steve was doing right now. “I know you’re not actually 12, but…”
“I’m 21,” she cut in, annoyed. “You all let Parker into the superhero club before his voice even changed, yet I keep getting shit about my age.”
“Peter doesn’t want to kiss me,” he replied. He frowned. “I don’t think he does, anyway. Miss Bishop.” Oh shit, here came the dismissal.
“Hey,” she broke in, letting her mouth run without her brain. “Come on, you’re Mister Never-backs-down-from-a-fight. I thought you’d at least give me a good argument, not this noble-stoic crap.”
He looked at her with…amusement, possibly? It wasn’t an expression she was used to seeing on Captain America’s face, that was for sure. “Hawkeye’s a good name for you,” he said, and that was definitely amusement in his voice. “You’re as big a pest as Clint.”
“Thank you, that means a lot to me,” she said, plowing on. “You should kiss me, though. It’d be good for your image; I’m attractive, eligible, rich, and kind of superpowered. I’m not saying I’m out of your league, but…” she shrugged exaggeratedly.
“I don’t kiss teammates,” he said, but she could see the corner of his mouth curling up. She was in. Apparently, shit-talking was his weakness. That was good to know.
“Well you’re in luck! As you know, I am part of the Young Avengers. Totally different team; separate org chart and everything.”
“Technically, I’m still your boss.”
“Technically everyone at this party is my boss, and I want to kiss someone, and I also want 100 dollars and to get to do a victory dance. Come on, you know from dares. If someone offered you money to kiss me, what would you do?”
“Ask politely and promptly leave you alone when you declined,” he said in his best PR voice.
Kate tried to roll her eyes out of her head. “Buuuuullshit,” she said. “I mean, first of all, I wouldn’t decline. I might negotiate a cut of the profits, though. Oh, is that what you want? I’ll give you $30.”
“Thirty?” He said in disbelief. “You’re gonna lowball Captain freaking America?”
Sweet Jesus, this was almost better than actually winning the bet. Kate keep her delight to herself and replied, “Listen, I’m not saying I’m not willing to negotiate. Thirty is a reasonable starting offer.”
His mouth flattened, but Kate could see the mischief in his eyes. It was a good look on him. “How do I know there even is a bet? You could just be offering me money in exchange for sexual favors.”
Hearing the words sexual favors come out of Steve Rogers’ mouth nearly knocked her off the couch, but he wasn’t done yet. “And you are offering me thirty measly dollars. I’ll have you know, Miss Bishop, that a date with me, including a hug only, was purchased at a charity auction for twenty-five thousand dollars. And you are offering me. Thirty. Dollars.”
“Cash,” she said, using her kind-of-superpowers to keep a straight face. “Three crisp Hamiltons up front.”
He threw his head back and laughed. She’d heard him chuckle, snicker, and even very occasionally giggle, but this was nothing like that. He was laughing so hard his entire (impressive) chest was shaking. Kate felt like she’d hit the lottery. The super-hot, unexpectedly snarky lottery.
Steve rubbed his face and got ahold of himself. He shook his head, then said, “C’mere,” and before Kate knew what was happening, Captain freaking America had leaned over, put his hand on her cheek, and given her the kiss of her goddamned life.
“Keep your thirty,” he said with a wink. “And come talk to me at boring parties more often.”
