study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

"For what, spending the whole day with my favorite partner?"
Clint just smiled, smoothly fleeing into his usual defense when he was just a little too tempted to tell her what he really felt.

He didn't just enjoy acting like a normal couple, casually in love strolling the streets... Deep in his heart he wished for a quite a while now it could always be like that.

Natasha walking by his side, all denim and loose curls, very young and very innocent looking, her cheeks glowing with that seldom hint of relaxed curiosity for an everyday life they just couldn't live.

He thought he loved her a little more than he should, walking her through the park to his house at the other side, with his arm harmlessly resting around her shoulders, her beautiful pale skin gleaming in the soft neon lights.

It felt kind of strange, knowing there was no one to watch for once, no one they had to play this for. Maybe, just a little, she enjoyed this just as much as him, but they didn't talk about that often to not complicate things.

So Clint shut up and grinned because it was easier, and added the memory to the ones most precious in his heart.

"I mean, sure, I had to cancel all the other dates waiting for me tonight, that took a bit of time and charm, but..."

He laughed quietly, ducking away from the blow most certainly to come, and slowed his pace, wanting to enjoy these seldom minutes alone in a dark valley for a bit longer. For once without having to look out for snipers on the next roof.

Also they just passed again that guy with that guitar, and that was next to Natasha's laughter one of his favorite sounds if done well.

"He's good. I haven't heard a decent F chord since old Grumpy Hale in the circus showed Barney and me how to dance."

“You know what I mean,” Natasha replied with a good natured roll of her eyes. Maybe he didn’t, though, because she wasn’t even completely sure what she was thanking him for. For dinner? For spending the day with her? For showing her how other people lived? For simply letting her be herself, or try to be, with no expectations?

Maybe she was just thanking him for being who he was.

She always liked his casual look. His black S.H.I.E.L.D. fatigues looked good, and his uniform definitely fit him in all the right places, but she preferred the splash of colour, and the haphazard way that he tied his boots. He really did casual well, though she was beginning to think he would look good in practically anything.

Hooking her arm through his as they walked, she aimed to dig her elbow into his ribs at his mention of canceling other dates, but he moved away too quickly. “You better hope you kept a good reserve of that charm, because you’re going to need it,” she said, putting on a stern expression though her eyes betrayed her. She wasn’t trying very hard, clearly.

When Clint shared his little story Natasha actually stopped in her tracks, eyebrows raised and bemused expression on her face. “You learned to dance from someone named Grumpy?” 

"Yeah, well, they didn't exactly spend money for our education or anything."

Clint felt his cheeks flush, this time having a little more trouble smiling it away. It was an open secret with S.H.I.E.L.D. he had not been through an awful lot of school years or seen any classy lifestyle courses. What he knew, he had mostly learned on the streets and sometimes that was just what he felt like, especially with someone like Natasha.

"Grumpy was one of the few who looked out for us from time to time when we didn't have to work or train. He always said, there's three things a guy has to know in life. Hold your liquor, make enough buck to survive and feel the blues. When he wasn't drunk off his ass he remembered all three, actually."

He laughed quietly, bravely fighting the not so happy memories going with times like these. Feelings of loss, pain in never properly healed hinges that he sometimes still felt when the weather was changing, like tonight. Betrayal, hate.
That was all part of it but he was glad he could also still remember the smell of popcorn, the laughter of children and old Grumpy laughing when he had stumbled over his own feet. It helped you not losing your mind on an everyday basis keeping on to the good stuff.

"I'm not exactly Fred Astaire but I never was kicked out of a ball or a prom on a mission, so I guess it's good enough."

Natasha knew of Clint’s past, of the heartaches that had shaped him and the abnormal way he’d live his life. She knew how the past had the way of haunting people, knew better than many people ever would, but she also felt he had nothing to be ashamed of. A higher education meant little in their line of work, and she was sure he was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s top agents because of everything he had gone through, not despite of it. He had never had anything handed to him, he had earned every victory in his life, and that was something to admire.

Laughing with him, she took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze to let him know that she understood, and that she was there, no matter what, even if she rarely ever spoke the words.

Fishing a few loose bills out of her pocket she threw them into the open guitar case before turning back to Clint again. They should probably continue on their way, but his words had gotten her to thinking. “You did a mission at a prom?” she couldn’t help but laugh. “Please tell me you wore an awful suit to it and that they had a terrible band playing.”

Moving in to stand close to him, she slid her hands up his arms to clasp loosely around behind his neck, waiting to see if he took the hint. 

After there had been nothing more than a few casual touches under the table, a hip bump here in the museum here, a short kiss on the cheek there, Clint had been longing for this close embrace all afternoon. Another good reason for choosing the long way through the park.

Overcoming his surprise quickly, he rested his hands on the small of Natasha's waist, slipping them under her jacket to not let the cool evening breeze creep in. A content sigh escaped his lips when he buried his face in her hair, enjoying the wilderness of her curls falling free for once and that silent comfort her touch was offering.
They both weren't enthusiastic with showing their affection in public, especially with S.H.I.E.L.D. not approving field agents sharing too close a relationship. But this evening was all theirs and there really was no reason not to make the best of it.

And Clint knew a challenge when he was faced with one. There were definitely worse...

"In my defense, that school director was a sick asshole and that was the only chance to watch him. I wasn't there for the college girls. I doubt I'd pass for age 22, anyway. Nothing captain of the football team about this face."

He chuckled again, his lips just a little too close to Natasha's ear while the other part of his attention got lost in the background song, trying to decide what kind of steps matched that melancholic rhythm best.

He couldn't resist slipping his fingertips under Natasha's top, teasing the perfect smoothness for just a second. Then he reached for her right hand and held it up in a lazy standard position, more resting against his shoulder than in the air. His other hand pulled her body even closer to his, until he could direct her across the empty piece of lawn around the fountain just with the movement of his hips.

"I've been told, a Slow Waltz is the foreplay of Emperors, you know."

Edited 2013-08-12 12:37 (UTC)

Natasha liked to keep her private life private, especially when it came to the good things. Many people, when they were happy, wanted to shout it from the rooftops and tell everyone they met, but Natasha wasn’t used to having good things, wasn’t used to being happy, so when she did get to experience that feeling she hoarded it away, greedily keeping it to herself instead of sharing with all who knew her. It was hers and hers alone and she didn’t want to risk it getting sullied by the outside world; on top of that there was always that fear that if she got too comfortable, if too many people knew, that she would lose everything somehow.

What she had with Clint... it brought out all the greedy, protective feelings in her. She didn’t want to share him, to share them, because she was happy, and she wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as she could.

Still, sometimes exceptions had to be made. Sometimes her defenses weakened and her fears tempered and she ended up like she was now, out in public with Clint’s arms around her and his face buried in her hair while she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. Tonight she was okay with this, more than okay.

“Oh, so not high school prom, then,” she teased. “I bet you were still much admired.”

Involuntarily she gave a shiver, but whether it was to do with his breath over her ear or the brush of his fingers on her skin she didn’t know. Leaning back just enough to meet his eyes when he took up the proper stance she smiled up at him. “Oh really,” she said, raising one slim eyebrow. “Did some college girl tell you that?"

"Nope. As scandalous as it might seem, I do read books from time to time. I was more often the discarded scarecrow than prince charming. Leaves you much time to stay at home."

Clint couldn't resist resting his lips on just that place between Natasha's furred brows for a sweet moment, still surprised that she genuinely seemed to enjoy these strange intimacy.

Such things happened seldom enough as it was. So instead of searching his memory for any fancy poses or turns, he kept to slow basic steps and rather focused on enjoying and memorizing this for later, for the time of their next parting.

Natasha's warmth, her scent so close and the way she shivered when his hand on her waist went back to caressing her, teasing along the hem of her jeans and the sensitive area below... That was all he needed right now.

He thought to recognize the words of the rusty voice in the background as some old Curtis Stigers-song but hardly really paid attention anymore. He was all caught up in the way Natasha's hair looked tonight. And how it felt on his skin when he brought their hands closer to brush her neck, her cheek. They probably looked quite ridiculous, really not that far from high school romance, but he couldn't care less. It was seldom enough he got to see her like that.

"Damn, you're beautiful. I'll gladly count this as the first high school date of my life."

He was probably just a few words away from a bruised rib for sappiness but sometimes he just had to get this off his chest. And if it was just for one of these small, seldom smiles.

Edited 2013-08-13 06:25 (UTC)

Natasha had a hard time believing that Clint had been anything less than Prince Charming, but then she was definitely biased. He had been her knight in shining armour, after all, not that their lives were anything like a fairytale. “Their loss,” she said simply.

Closing her eyes and scrunching her nose up just slightly when he kissed her on the forehead, she slowly opened her eyes again and raised her brows at him. This was definitely not their norm, especially not where anyone else might see them, but for tonight she was allowing it and, more than that, enjoying it. Just once she wanted to feel what it was like to be normal without it being a cover they put on to fool everyone. It was funny to think about it: when they were under cover was when they got to show how they really felt about each other, and when they were themselves was when they had to wear masks and hide it.

They fell into an easy silence, caught up in the music and the dance and the moment, and Natasha thought she could have been content to stay like this forever, and forever was not a term she threw around lightly. In the distance she could hear the rumbling of the approaching storm that had been forecasted, but it only seemed to add bass to the music. She watched Clint’s eyes while they traveled over her hair, her face, unable to quite grasp the look she saw within. It was almost reverent, like he thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life and that he couldn’t believe they were here right now. Then he spoke and she couldn’t help but laugh. That was the cheesiest, sappiest thing she had ever heard, and he said it with such sincerity.

“I don’t think it works that way. You’re a few years late, I’m afraid,” she replied. Though if it did, he would be hers as well.

That bright, carefree laughter definitely was the very best thing he had heard all week. Making Natasha laugh was one of his favorite hobbies. He counted it a full strike when it wasn't just one of her 'I'll smile because I can't kill you everytime'-grins. A good night indeed.

He had no desire going home just yet or letting her go for even a second, though that sounded suspiciously like heavy rain coming up. Instead he continued running his hand up and down her back, still under her shirt, to warm her from the cool night breeze, and kept his mouth just a little too close to her ear, as if to not let anyone else in this harmless daydream.

It made it easier too, to hide he wasn't entirely joking. Sometimes he indeed wished he'd met this woman much earlier in his life. That would have spared them both a great many years of pain.

"Why not? Don't challenge me. We have the music, the dance and the beauty queen right here. Just let me cut some roses for you from these bushes and then I'll take you to the fairy and win you a bunch of stuffed bears."

Edited 2013-08-13 21:44 (UTC)

Adjusting her arm across his shoulders, Natasha stepped in a little closer and closed her eyes as they swayed to the music. She couldn’t quite describe how she felt in this moment, with his hand running soothingly along her back and his breath tickling at her ear, but she knew it was good. Content, certainly; happy, no doubt; but more than anything she felt alive... no, more than that she felt like she was living, because there was a difference, a big one.

Perhaps if they had met earlier they could have saved each other some pain, but Natasha was not one for regrets. There were many things in her life she was not proud of, but instead of looking back with regret she worked on absolving her debts; she could not change the past but she could mould her future. Had they met earlier who was to say they would have ever ended up like this? All our actions shape who we are, and they wouldn’t be the people they were today if anything had been different. Maybe he wouldn’t have made a different call, or maybe she wouldn’t have accepted it. No, she wouldn’t change anything if it would do anything to change this moment.

“Oh, is that what happens after prom?” she replied, the amusement clear in her voice. She didn’t point out that she was far from a beauty queen; she had never attended high school but from the movies it seemed like the prom queen was usually popular and cared only about how she was viewed by others. Of course this was a stereotype, but one that Natasha didn’t fall under. “The movies seem to skip the part with the fair.”

It was actually an appealing thought, to play the adoring girlfriend while Clint won her prizes. He was being ridiculous tonight, but she had no doubt he could pull it off.

"Wouldn't know about that. But where I come from, that's usually what happens when you're head over heels in love for a girl and desperately try to impress her."

Clint had long ago given up even lying about what he was feeling for this woman. It happened seldom that they could actually enjoy what was between them, but these emotions had never changed. This wasn't an evening for rules and restraints.
He didn't expect her to tell him anything like this, never had- he saw what he needed to know in her smile, in the way she was having fun when she was with him.
Still sometimes he wanted - needed - to say it out loud.

His lips came to rest on her forehead again, the silent promise and soothing she didn't need to say anything if she didn't want to.
Their steps had long found into a simple slow rhythm, as easy as their cooperation on any battlefield, and they still were completely alone save for their musician. He could enjoy it with half closed eyes, holding the woman in his arms so close he could feel her every muscle moving, her breathing against his chest, and he already knew this night would be long and exciting. But that was for later.

Edited 2013-08-15 11:13 (UTC)

It had taken Natasha a long time to accept that Clint loved her, that anyone could truly love her with they knew of her past, of the scars on her soul that would never fully heal. Clint knew them, though; not all of them, nobody knew them all, not even Natasha herself, but he knew enough to know her so when he said he loved her she knew he meant it.

It had taken her even longer to realise that she loved him back, that this feeling of complete and utter trust and security and affection that she felt for this man was love. She wasn’t a complete stranger to love, there had been others in her past but she had been barely more than a child then and after the pain it had caused her she had written love off as a childish notion, one she would never let herself feel again. Then Clint had come along and slowly but surely he had changed her mind.

She didn’t say it, at least not with words, because by the time she had realised that what she felt was love, she had also realised that there just weren’t words strong enough to truly express the depths of her feelings. So she told him with her smile, the look in her eyes, the press of her body to his. He reassured her that he didn’t need to hear it with a simple kiss on her forehead, but she promised herself that someday she would tell him because he deserved to hear it.

Moving in closer she settled her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, just relishing in the moment and ignoring all else, even the first few drops of rain as they struck her face.

Not a moment later the music stopped as the musician scrambled to gather up the money and stuff it all into his pockets before safely stowing his guitar away again and making off quickly for shelter.

Clint had been all caught up in the relieved comfort her smile was giving him and the warm serenity of her head trustfully resting on his shoulder. So he only realized the rain had come faster than expected when the streetlights revealed a few drops glistening in Natasha's hair.

He let go off her waist for just long enough to wipe the wetness of her forehead, a silly, stubborn part of him not ready yet to let this moment end. But there really was no use, the sky was already opening right above them.

With a frustrated sigh, he moved to step away from her, bring her to the untidy moldy reality that his apartment, when really he wished for nothing more than hold precious minutes like this all night. And maybe a little longer.

"We should go, I guess."

And just like that the moment was broken and Natasha couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated that the weather report had lied, again, when it said that the rain wasn’t supposed to start until later that night. She wasn’t the only one, though, as she could practically feel the disappointment rolling off of Clint in waves.

“We should,” she agreed, but when he moved to step away the arm around his shoulders tightened and she pulled him in again. “But since when did we always do what we should be doing?”

Smiling up at him, she started to sway her body again despite the fact that there was no longer any music playing. They rain could be their symphony as it started to fall more steadily.

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?"

Edited 2013-08-17 22:49 (UTC)

Natasha honestly didn’t know what had gotten into her but she felt light, free, and she wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as possible.

Smiling at him as he ran his fingers through her hair, she relished in the contrast of his warm body against her while the cold rain fell all around them. His hands were wet on her skin and sent a shiver up her spine but she didn’t pull away, just trailed her fingers through his hair and down his neck, stopping to trace a nonsensical pattern there before sliding down his chest and around his back under his jacket.

“Sounds perfect,” she agreed. Leaning up to kiss him again she discovered more contrasts between his cold lips and his warm mouth. “We should probably go...”

"Soon. Got you, beautiful."
There were a few minutes left of walking through the rain and a gentleman had to go sure his lady wouldn't freeze right?

This was becoming a worse idea by the second, but having Natashas's hands on his body did such things to him. Her kiss was promising, deep, and he did his best to return the favor, teasing her with his tongue, sliding along her lower lip and touching hers, inviting her to play.

Holding her softly against him, his fingertips massaging the sides of his neck, his other hand sneaked in between their bodies, still under her shirt, to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples through the soft material of her bra.

Teenage night indeed, including hot making out in public.

It was almost adorable how neither of them wanted to be the first to break away and ruin the moment, if ‘adorable’ was a word that could ever be applied to two master assassins.

She let him deepen the kiss, leaning further into him. The rain was falling steadier now, but while others looked for shelter from the rain, Clint and Natasha took shelter in it. Nobody paid them any attention, too intent to keep themselves dry.

Despite being pressed against him, Clint managed to sneak a hand between them and Natasha just pushed herself further into his touch. Her nipples were already hard from the cold, and his rather insistent touch made her gasp against his mouth and pull back, pupils dilated as she looked at him with complete and utter desire. “Now,” she amended, nipping at his bottom lip. It was probably best they start their trek now, as she was pretty sure there would be several interludes along the way before they finally made it back to Clint’s apartment.

"As mylady wishes."

He winked at her playfully and gave her lower lip a last bite, not even trying to hide how much it turned him on to see her react like that, MAKE her react like that, with just a few touches. This would be an interesting night, that much was for sure.

After backing away from her reluctantly, he got out of his jacket and held it high above both their heads to have at least a little shelter from the rain. With his arm around Natasha's waist, he lead her to the park exit, the small brick building across the street that he had bought some time ago, keeping just the attic floor for himself.

Of course he couldn't resist letting his hand wander even as they walked, brushing along her side and finally sliding a few fingers into the back pocket of her jeans.

Natasha rolled her eyes at Clint’s words, but she still couldn’t quite keep the smile from her face.

She let him go just as reluctantly, but it was for the greater good, and the quicker they got back to his place the quicker they could continue this with less sodden clothing in the way. There might have been a bit of haste in their steps but they didn’t really hurry, not the way everyone else hurried around them.

Not willing to let him be the only one with wandering hands, she slid her own that rested at the side of his waist just up under the hem of his shirt, splaying wet, cold fingers against his skin.

"Tease."

He murmured it softly into her ear, making use of the short moment they had to stop before crossing the street, letting the rush hour pass through, to nibble on the edge of her ear.

His hand on the seductive firmness that was her ass, massaged her flesh hard enough for her to feel it even through her jeans. A low warm pressure had built deep inside right where she touched his skin. It was good thing her hands were cold or this might have ended embarrassing.

He couldn't hide that turned on grumble coming from his chest, though, or the need to hide his face in her hair, breathing against her ear and not giving shit if they could have long passed through the traffic or not.

"Fuck, I want you."

Natasha tried to remain stoic and unaffected now that they were out of the cover of the park and standing at a busy street. He was making it really damn difficult, though, with how hard he was grabbing her ass and with his hot breath against her ear. She breathed deeply, but there was the tiniest hitch in her breath at his words.

It wasn’t the first time a man had told her the exact same thing, not even the first time Clint had said it, but it was always different with him because she wanted him too, just as bad. That wasn’t the only reason, of course; there were much deeper reasons why it was different with him but she didn’t want to get into that now, not when she was trying to keep herself under control, or at least looking that way.

“Get me upstairs and you can have me,” she said, noticing that they had missed the walk light and would have to wait for the next one. “Any way you want me.”

"You really think we'll make it upstairs?"

He moved his lips even closer to her ear, to not let anybody in this very private conversation, though no one could hear them through the traffic noise anyway. Still he was very careful with this, never letting his hand glide deeper than her jacket could hide it, now that they had definitely some audience again.

It happened often enough they had to put on a show for people on a mission. When he had Natasha for his own, he wanted to keep her for his own.

That didn't mean, though, he couldn't tease her with his words while his hand continued to work her ass, moving to the other pocket of her jeans now. He just loved it when he could make her blush and he had a feeling he would succeed with it before that light turned green again.

"Because right now I more feel like pinning you right against that door over there as soon as it's closed. I'd just love to make you come right there, just with my hand between your legs..."

Edited 2013-08-18 20:52 (UTC)

He was pushing his luck, but she couldn’t exactly blame him after her actions in the park. Normally Natasha was all about keeping their private lives private, but tonight she had given in, have let herself have a taste of what normal people did without worry or question. They had gotten a little carried away, and it seemed Clint was in the mood to push it as far as he could.

Natasha knew she could stop him with just a word and he would lay off and be the perfect gentleman until they were behind closed doors again, but as much as she didn’t want anyone noticing what was really going on with them, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying everything he was doing. Ultimately she didn’t stop him because she really didn’t want him to stop.

She sucked in a breath at his words, the faintest blush tinting her cheeks as her eyes moved to the door he was indicating. She didn’t say anything back, not when her words could be easily heard, her lips exposed for anyone to read. He had the advantage with his lips so close to her ear, and she was still determined to keep up appearances, so instead she dug her fingernails just lightly into his side and forced her eyes back to the light just as it turned.

Clint chuckled quietly, completely satisfied with this very healthy coloring of Natasha's cheeks and gave her ass another good squeeze as he lead her across the street, finally nearing that thing he humbly called his house.

The advantage of owning one definitely was knowing who was around and at which times, so he was nearly 100 % sure they had the whole weekend for themselves with no neighbors to watch or to listen... And he planned to make use of that.

He let go off Natasha just long enough to open the door for her and pulled her straight into his arms as soon as it closed, just like promised. The hallway was dark and silent, no reason to worry even if one or two students might have stayed for the weekend.
And right now he really couldn't care less.

A desperate, relieved moan escaped his lips when they crashed against hers and he could finally get his hands under her shirt without watching out for anyone.

Pushing her back against the door carefully enough, he let her feel very clearly what all this teasing had done to him and how very much worse it got now that he had her alone with him.

"God, Tasha... I wanted to do this all day."

His lips went back to her ear as he let one hand fall back to the back of her jeans, not stopping there now, though, but bringing his fingers right between her thighs to rub along her center.

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject