There must have been something in the water that restaurant had served, Clint thought with a surprised chuckle when Natasha snuggled back against him, ignoring that their clothes were soon starting to soak through. Not that he would complain. Gladly throwing his arms around her again, he all went with her rhythm, enjoying every of her full beautiful curves, every fibre of her body pressed against his.
Running his fingertips through her hair he watched her with just this soft smile, the trails the drops left on her face, her pale skin all but glistening in the strange light.
God, she was beautiful and he surely was the luckiest bastard alive to have her here. Her real self, not the Black Widow, not Natalia or Natalie, just Natasha and her rare pure smile.
"I better find a way to warm you up once we get home, huh?"
His other hand found its way under her shirt again, fingertips ghosting along her back, teasing the strap of her bra shortly. He found her shoulders more tense than they should be and vaguely remembered an unpleasant move during a fight on the last mission, a turn against every natural bending of her spine.
"How does a hot bath and a long massage sound?"