Sore Loser
On Friday nights, the Avengers usually stayed at the compound. Relaxation and procrastination were the watchwords of the night.
Bruce and Peter left to see Tony give a speech at the World Science Festival and the rest of the Avengers decided to have dinner together.
You took a seat next to Bucky at the kitchen table and mindlessly scrolled through projects on Pinterest while Sam and Wanda were making homemade pizzas. They both seemed to have fun, or at least they were before Bucky ate most of the toppings.
The commotion had prompted Natasha to turn up the volume on the TV. She, Rhodey and Steve were watching a documentary on the History Channel. They looked completely fascinated by the taffy puller and the way it stretched and folded the taffy on itself until it had its famous chewy texture.
Steve slung his arm over the back of the sofa and craned his neck to peer into the kitchen. He let out a sigh when Sam called Bucky a ‘gluttonous bag of hair’. He took a deep breath to calm himself –or else he would have knocked their heads together- and got up from the sofa.
Natasha and Rhodey slapped his butt when he walked in front of the TV, blocking their view for only a second. As Steve entered the kitchen, Wanda looked up from her cookbook and smiled at him.
“Guys, I think we have a ping pong table in the garage,” she reminded everyone and locked eyes with Steve in a silent plea to take Bucky somewhere else.
“I’m not playing with Steve,” Bucky said as he chewed, flecks of Swiss cheese spraying out onto the table. This earned him another glare from Sam.
“Why not?” Wanda asked, frowning.
“He’s crazy,” Sam answered.
His comment pulled a laugh from you and Wanda. You placed your phone on the table and turned your head to look at Steve, your eyes sparkling with laughter when he crossed his arms like a petulant child.
“I’m not that bad,” he retorted. “I like to win, so what?”
Sam scoffed. “Dude, you almost poked me in the eye with your cue stick when I beat you at pool!”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Well, you’d know all about that, uh?”
As Steve opened his mouth to retort, you casually jumped into the conversation and left everyone speechless. The words hung in the air for a moment as the room fell silent. Even Natasha and Rhodey were staring at you, their documentary long forgotten.
“I’ll play with you.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Are you sure? He’s the worst, don’t say we haven’t warned you.”
You smirked at him. “I’ll be alright.”
Wordlessly, Steve followed you to the garage, the others in tow. Sure enough, the ping pong table was there, albeit a little too close to Tony’s priceless cars and Steve’s treasured bike.
You took a paddle and a tiny orange ball and waited for Steve to finish working the kinks out of his neck. And because Steve’s a little shit, he took his sweet time doing it.
Show off.
Sam and Bucky stood close to the table while Wanda, Rhodey and Natasha decided to sit on the hood of Tony’s Bentley.
“Ready?” you asked Steve once he’d picked up his paddle. “You wanna volley a bit for a serve?”
“Sure.”
You served the ball and Steve returned it carefully. Sam and Bucky watched the ball move back and forth between you.
This polite, little game didn’t last long and, as soon as you got the chance, you whacked the ball in the corner of the table. The orange ball resembling lighting as it flew past Steve.
He blinked a few times and stared at you with a bewildered look on his face. Sam and Bucky went completely still, as though someone had pushed the pause button on the remote. You gave them a satisfied smile.
“Oh, by the way,” you said nonchalantly before schooling your features into a stern look, “I’m awesome!”
Sam sucked in a harsh breath and slowly blew it out while pinching the bridge of his nose with fingers. Bucky stared wide-eyed at you.
“Oh, God, there’s two of them,” he said in staged whisper.
Steve grinned. The smile was as predatory as the look in his eyes. It was a look you only saw directed at the enemy, one that always made your stomach do somersaults.
You squared your shoulders and tried to look unfazed, but seeing him like this was a huge turn on. Still, you were not going to let him win.
“You wanna make it more interesting?” he asked and you nodded. “Ten bucks a game?”
You let out a big booming laugh that held no humour, then narrowed your eyes at him. “Make it fifty.”
“I’ll make it a hundred.”
“ONE THOUSAND-”
“OK!” Natasha shouted from her spot on the Bentley. “You both don’t have that kind of money!”
“You know what, Romanoff-” Steve trailed off as he flipped her off.
The sound of your quiet snort caught Steve’s attention. He turned to look at you and you were close enough to see the determination in his dark blue eyes.
“You’re going to lose,” he told you, “but don’t take it too personally, I was genetically modified to be the best.”
He made a show of flexing his biceps, his shirt stretching and tearing at the seams. You could have sworn you heard Bucky mutter the word ‘dumbass’ under his breath.
“What a sad brag,” you said with a wicked grin. “I don’t need a cocktail of super soldier vitamins to beat your ass, Rogers.”
Steve looked away, embarrassment colouring his cheeks and ears. When the others started snickering, he clenched his jaw and forced himself to meet your eyes.
“You might wanna be careful, I’m not as friendly as I look.”
“You’re full of shit, Rogers,” you said before you served the ball hard.
The two of you battled on for a very long time. Your friends were cheering in the background, but your mind was set on one thing and one thing only: teach Captain America a lesson.
During the last point, Steve put a spin on the ball, catching you off guard. You returned it, but the ball didn’t touch the table, making you lose the game. Growling to yourself, you watched the ball bounce up and down on the concrete ground.
“Oh, I’m sorry I think that may have missed the table,” Steve said, his condescending tone making your blood boil.
“Oh, do you?” you replied sarcastically.
“Yeah!”
“DO YOU?!” you shouted, making a face at him.
“YEAA-AAH!” he shouted in a childish tone.
“GUYS!” Rhodey interrupted, “great, Rogers won. Can we go back upstairs now? There’s a pizza with my name on it.”
The rest of your friends agreed and started walking toward the lift, but you didn’t move away from the table. You locked eyes with Steve, he had not moved either.
“Rematch?” you asked.
“Do you have the stamina?”
“Do you?” you retorted, leaning forward.
A cocky smile tugged at his lips as he, too, leaned forward and pressed his hands flat against the table. “Oh, I can do this all day.”
There was a collective groan from your friends as they reluctantly returned to their seats. Natasha fake couched the word ‘foreplay’ into her fist, then gave you an innocent smile when you glared at her over your shoulder.
The second game was even longer and your friends looked bored to death. Your shirt was now clinging to your body and Steve’s hair was constantly getting in his eyes.
You had to bite your lip to hold back a groan when he ran his hand through his hair. The dishevelled look made him look even more attractive.
You practically wept with joy when you won the second game.
“Best out of three?” Steve asked, already knowing the answer.
“You betcha!”
By the end of the third, and final, game, you were both completely exhausted. Steve’s hair was inexplicable and you were sweating like a sinner in church. All you wanted was food, a massage and a nice, hot bath with Stev-No, focus, you have to win this!
It was a tie again, 41 to 41, and you were determined to end this right now. You returned the ball to his right court, hoping to trick him with a spinning ball, but he saw it coming. He hit the ball so hard that it went through his paddle.
You stared wide eyed at the broken paddle before you suddenly burst into laughter. “Well, well, well,” you mused, “looks like we have a winner and that winner is… moi!”
His eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “Says who?”
“Says the one without a huge hole in the middle of her paddle, buddy.” You turned to look at your friends, your smile faltering when you noticed they were gone. “Where is everyone?”
“They left after the second game,” Steve answered. “I hope they left us some food, I’m starving.”
“So you admit defeat, Rogers?”
He grumbled something unintelligible before he looked at you through the hole in his paddle. This made you both chuckle.
You left your paddles on the table and walked over to the lift. Steve let you in first and you immediately settled against the glass wall. He pushed the button for the first floor and the door slid closed.
“I gotta say,” you began as you stretched a little, “I had you pegged as a shy guy, but you really surprised me tonight.”
“I can be a bit intense, I guess.”
“I like intense,” you replied, smiling coyly at him. “It looks good on you.”
Steve held your stare for a moment longer before he slowly crossed the space between you. That damn Captain America strut… your freaking weakness.
You stared at him like some frightened animal while he caged you against the glass wall, his forearms resting on either side of your head. He chuckled quietly when you licked your lips.
Yeah, you definitely liked him like this.
He leaned forward to speak in your ear, your body shivering as his hot breath hit your skin.
“I win,” he whispered into your ear before he dropped a kiss on your cheek.