The common room was filled with laughter and chatter as the team unwound, scattered across couches and chairs with drinks in hand. Nat sat close beside you, both of you caught up in your own conversation.

“I guess I like a man with a good physique,” Nat said with a sly smirk, sipping her drink.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course you do.”

Her eyes narrowed with amusement. “What about you?”

You weren’t fully paying attention, still half-distracted by the noise around you. “Hmm?” You glanced at her. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” she pressed, clearly entertained by making you answer.

You tilted your head, thinking for a moment. “Well… he wears a suit.”

“And?” Nat asked, leaning in with interest.

“His hair should be slicked back. And he wears a bow tie too. You know—a classy guy.”

You were about to add more when Natasha’s smirk widened. She took a sip of her drink, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. “Hey,” she murmured, “you might want to turn around.”

“What? Why?” you asked, confused, as she leaned back with that catlike grin.

Slowly, you turned—only to see James standing right there.

Your eyes widened slightly, heat rising to your cheeks. He must have heard everything.

“That’s your type?” James asked, his voice low, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity you weren’t used to from him.

“Huh?” was all you managed, embarrassed that he’d overheard.

“Okay then,” he said after a beat, giving a small nod. A flicker of a smirk tugged at his lips, but he smoothed it away quickly, turning without another word. He walked off, leaving you utterly baffled by the strange exchange.

⸻

The next evening, Tony’s fundraiser glittered with chandeliers and champagne, the hall buzzing with politicians, celebrities, and heroes alike. Everyone looked sharp in tailored suits and sparkling gowns.

You stood a little off to the side, nursing a drink, quietly observing the crowd when a tap on your shoulder made you turn.

And there he was.

James B.

But not in his usual combat gear—no. He stood in a perfectly tailored black suit that clung to his physique, a bow tie at his collar, and his dark hair slicked neatly back. He looked every bit the vision you’d described the night before.

Your breath caught and his lips curved into a smirk as his eyes swept over your expression.

“Do you like me now?” he asked, voice smooth, the edge of a tease softening into something warmer.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with challenge—and possibility.