Cap Quartet One Shots (Romanogers)

the one with the beach trip (part 2)

a/n: this is basically an excuse for me to write all the kiss stuff I've been wanting to write about in the others

I catch up enough so that I can shove his shoulder backwards, which sets him back a whole half second.

I get deep enough that I can start to swim, and I push myself off the ground and go for it. Propelling myself with my arms on a front crawl moment of speed, I can sense Steve behind me. Surely he's too tall to be swimming at this depth? I test my theory by splashing my feet excessively above the water, distracting him. I come up for breath, look over my shoulder, and see him stood, spluttering after my splash in his face. Smiling, I go back under.

A faint call says, "Oh, we're playing like that, Romanoff?" and then even I feel the impact as he dives into the water. My heart racing, I push through the water, feeling Steve's fingers brush against my ankles. I exaggerate the movement of my legs, which stops him from getting a hold of me for a few moments, but then I have to come up for a breath - just a second - which gives him the ideal opportunity. Holding onto my ankle, not tightly, he slows me down with his weight, and pushes himself forward. It takes me a second to pick up my pace again, but when I do, I'm in the same position. I take hold of his ankle with both hands in an attempt to slow him down, but it has no effect. Stupid super soldier strength.

An idea flashes through my head, but I'm not sure if it'll work. It's my last chance to get ahead, I'll do what I can. Moving my hands to slightly further up his leg - and trying to ignore how defined his muscles are - I use him as a push-off point, and attempt to propel myself ahead of him. We end up neck and neck, and it uses every last molecule of air in my lungs to grab the rock first.

I burst out of the water before him, gasping for breath. I end up coughing - I must've forgotten to come up for air, I was thinking too much about the race. Steve emerges not a second later, breathing as if he hasn't been competitively swimming. He leans on the rock with one arm, shaking his head to get rid of the excess sea water in his hair. Still spluttering, I cover my mouth as I cough, whilst trying to get air back into my lungs. Steve notices my struggle immediately.

"Hey, hey," he says, gently holding my hips and lifting me with ease onto the rock. His touch is so light it's like I hovered onto it myself. He keeps a hand on my knee as I finish coughing; I'm able to speak again.

"Thank you," I say, blinking to clear my watery eyes. He smiles at me, his small help seeming like a victory. I can't let him forget who the real winner is here, though. "You know, choking on sea water is so worth it for beating a super solider."

He laughs. "Yeah, yeah," he says. "You know I let you win, right?" That earns him a shove on the shoulder.

"Haha, very funny, Rogers," I reply, laughing. "You just can't admit that a girl beat you in a race."

"Oh, I have nothing against girls beating me in races," he says. He slowly moves around, so his hands are on either side of me as I sit on the slanted surface. I play with his wet hair with my fingers, combing through. He looks up at me, and my heart immediately speeds up.

"Then why are you so beaten up over this, Captain?" There's a moment of silent tension as we hold eye contact, hardly moving a muscle.

"Because I can't let you get in my head any more than you already are, Romanoff." With that, I carefully slide down the rock, into the water in the small gap between his arms. He automatically holds my waist - a few millimetres of water all that separates us - and my arms rest around his shoulders, at the nape of his neck. This close together, we fit like pieces in a puzzle.

"Should we be doing this?" he almost whispers, as if he doesn't want to even suggest the idea of leaving the moment.

"You wanna stop?" I reply, and there's a glint in his eye when he replies,