study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

Natasha wasn’t sure if the image was funny or horrifying. With Clint’s body, the only way he could pull off a dress was when he pulled her dress off of her. Arms like those did not go well with a ball gown.

Settling in behind him, Natasha continued to gently massage his shoulders while she watched him play, taking in all his ticks and tells. “I always was good at escaping ghosts,” she said, one hand sliding over to brush lightly at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He really was good at the game, and she was sure he would have had no problem beating her even if he hadn’t cheated, which meant she would just have to work that much harder to throw him off. He wasn’t falling at all for the first step of her leaving him apprehensive and expecting retaliation. Time to step it up a little.

“You were a very bad boy earlier,” she said, her voice dropping low as her thumbs pressed a little harder into his flesh. “When I get you alone again I may have to punish you.”

Clint decided not to comment her remark about ghosts. There were times to talk about such things and there were some when a remark was just a remark, and they could go on with what they were doing. Right now they were both relaxed and he liked to keep it that way.

Well, at least as relaxed as could be with Natasha trying to unsettle him.

"Fuck."

A low growl came past Clint's lips, and he quickly had to turn his attention back to the screen when his eyes closed just for a split second too long. Natasha fucking knew exactly what that tone in her voice did to him. That aisle he had just wanted to take was blocked by a ghost now and he had to take another route. That better didn't happen again.

But as much as he tried, he could impossibly push the thoughts out of his mind that her promise provoked. It had been quite a time since Natasha had last taken full control in one of their nights and he shouldn't miss it as much as he did. Not that he would surrender without putting up a fight first, he never did. It was part of the fun really.

"I'm sure you'll try", he answered, his own voice just a little too husky, but his hands weren't trembling. Not yet.

Only two simple sentences and a change of tone and he was already reacting. Much like he had done to her, she knew exactly what buttons to push, knew how that timbre in her voice drove him wild, and while it wasn’t enough to end his turn so soon, it had definite affected his game.

She smirked.

“Try?” Natasha scoffed, her thumbs digging into his shoulders before she let of the pressure and slid one hand up along his neck incredibly gently. “You should know by now that I don’t try,” she said, leaning down a little so that her breath played over the back of his neck. “I succeed.”

With that she dragged one nail over the hickey on his neck.

So much confidence deserved an extra amount of resistance to prove it wrong, but Clint found it harder and harder to concentrate on the flickering pictures in front of him.

Not. Fair. That special place that he had covered with a turtleneck in the morning was free for access now and of course Natasha made use of that mercilessly. Most vivid memories of how she had given him that particular sensitive spot left his breathing go faster. It was probably only thanks to years of training that he didn't lose track of his course but somehow managed to escape his pursuers everytime.

It was her hidden promise more than her touch that left him shifting just the slightest bit on the seat and threatened to derail his thoughts. Though he knew it wasn't exactly helping, he definitely couldn't ignore all these delicious implications.

"Really." He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure while the countdown for the next level started. "Tell me more about that."

She felt his pulse quicken under her fingertips but his game never faltered. He shifted in his seat and she contemplated what direction to take when he asked, he actually asked, for her to elaborate. Either he was determined to show her up, or he was his own worst enemy. Maybe both.

“Well, it is a shame we didn’t finish our shopping today, but I can be resourceful,” she said. Stooping a little lower, she wrapped her arms loosely around his chest and rested her chin on his shoulder. It painted a perfectly innocent picture since nobody else could hear her words. “I don’t need ropes or scarves to tie you up and put you entirely at my mercy. Although, you didn’t watch me pack. There is every possibility that there are more than just clothes and toiletries in that bag.”

Turning her head just slightly to rub her cheek against his neck, her eyes only left the game screen to look at his hands, to look for any shake or twitch. “Or maybe I will just blindfold you and bind you on your knees so you can beg more easily.”

"Fuck, Tash'..."

Well, silly mistake, really. He kind of hadn't expected her to go into so much detail in a place like this. Any coolness he might still have had went flying out of the window immediately after that vivid picture her words painted, and the next thing he heard was the disappointed screeching of the machine telling him, he had just lost his electronic life.

"You..."

Growling, he turned his head to her and pressed his face into her neck, trying to get his breathing under control. And his fantasies, for that matter, before things could get embarrassing after all. Apparently he wasn't the only one who missed certain games from their past, when Natasha showed him just how capable and merciless she really could be...

"...are a very evil woman, you know."

The shivers of anticipation down his arms were covered by his jacket, but he was pretty sure, she would hear the slight tremble in his voice anyway.

A grin curved Natasha’s lips and she felt a smug sense of satisfaction when the screen proclaimed GAME OVER in large letters. Clint had used those skilled hands and mouth of his to gain his victory, but she had managed to break him down with only her words, and it hadn’t taken very long at all. She would definitely remember this for future gloating.

“Mm, but you enjoy it,” she said, raising one hand to practically pet his hair. She could practically feel the thoughts racing through his head, could imagine all the images and fantasies he was considering right now. His voice trembled, his pulse quickened; maybe if she did follow through it would be more of a reward than a punishment. “It is soon time to board,” she spoke again after a moment. “Think you can stand up yet?” The teasing smile was evident in her voice.

"If you don't start with the toys and restraints again...", Clint murmured against her neck, another deep shudder going down his spine before he locked these images away forcefully.

After giving her skin a small bite, he finally got up and lead the way outside, with his arm loosely around her waist, to get some fresh air on the viewing terrace. Only his still healthy colored cheeks betrayed what kind of impression the small interlude had made.

"Been a while", he murmured, apologetically. "But you sure haven't lost your touch."

“I didn’t say anything about toys,” she teased him. Giving him the time he needed to collect himself, she didn’t pull away until he was ready. Falling into step right beside him, she slipped her own arm around his waist as well, bumping her hip against his as they walked. A faint smile remained on her lips; it was hard not to smile when he was still blushing.

“Good to know,” she replied to his statement, giving him a quick wink. It had been a while since she’d fully dominated him, but their relationship had changed and grown a lot since then. In the beginning she had needed to be in control, but as they progressed she had slowly given up more and more of that control, had slowly let herself trust him. The sex was much more intimate now, and while it might be fun to go back to those dominant ways now that she knew how she felt about him, it wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as having his hands all over her. Still, it was an intriguing thought. How different would it be now that there was so much love and trust between them? She had even reached the point where she would let him turn the tables on her, which was certainly no small feat.

This whole trip was about healing and rediscovery, so maybe they should keep all options open.

“I always thought I may have missed my true calling as a phone sex operator.”

"Now, don't make me go all jealous boyfriend on you."

Clint took the opportunity gladly to steer the conversation away from too intimate exchanges. The cold autumn air awaiting them on the viewing terrace further helped cool things down until they would have arrived in their retreat. At least he didn't feel like pulling Natasha in the next dark corner and make her moan and writhe under his hands anymore.

Leaning on the high balustrade seaming the terrace, he spent a few quiet minutes watching the arrival and departure of dozens of planes, numbers and names listing down in his mind like on a monitor. As hard as he was trying to indulge in the curiosity and admiration he had once felt for these powerful machines... The melancholy wouldn't leave.

Maybe it was better that S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't let him anywhere near his beloved little Falcon baby. Probably he wouldn't even be able to start the engines without another flashback. Aside from the never leaving sadness and guilt, anger swelled in him. As if it wasn't enough, everything this Asgardian bastard had done, the destruction he had left... That Clint couldn't even really enjoy one of his biggest passions like before, made him furious.

"Maybe should just grow a pair of wings", he murmured. "Would make things easier."

“I never took you for the jealous type,” she said, grinning at him and bumping her shoulder against his. “I’ll keep that in mind...”

Stopping beside him, Natasha fell silent and watched the action below. She knew Clint loved this part, though not as much as he loved being in on the action, but something was different. He was too quiet, not rattling off random details about each craft, things that no normal person knew. He fell into these quiet moods a lot lately.

Would this trip really help get him back to how he was? Was it even possible? Sometimes things changed people, and sometimes it was permanent. Was this one of those cases?

She felt helpless, and that was not a feeling that Natasha handled well. She wanted to fix him, wanted to turn it all back, wanted to kill Loki for what he had done, but she couldn’t do any of that, couldn’t do anything at all. All she could do was be there for Clint in any way he needed her to be.

“We could try parasailing,” she offered, unsure how else to respond. She was trying as hard as she could, but there were some things she couldn’t help him with. Some things he had to deal with on his own.

"You are amazing, you know."

There had been a time when Clint would have called Natasha the least optimistic person on the planet. Especially in the first years after he had brought her in. He remembered just too well how often he had grown tired, exhausted, felt dragged down himself by all these anger and hate inside. The self loathing, the violence, this mistrust. How long it had taken him to carefully, gently make her turn just a little, away from the darkness, to all the beauty in the world she had never been taught to see. It had been a fight that he more than once had thought to lose.

Yet they were still standing here now, together, with him in pieces on the floor this time, and everytime he thought, there was no way, he could put himself together again... Sometimes it really took just a small smile, another light hearted idea to distract him. And her obvious determination to not let him dwell in what threatened to eat his soul up.

It hurt, seeing in her eyes the same fear, the same uncertainty that he had been through back then. That all these attempts would be for nothing and that the other one would be lost on the way anyway. If there was no other reason to get his shit together and find his way out of this bullshit, maybe he should just keep on remembering this expression.

Turning away from the runways, he softly pulled her in his arms and rested his chin on her shoulder with half-closed eyes, ignoring the curious stares and amused smiles around them. He let the cold wind wash over him, through him, allowed the tremble going through his body. Trying to let it clear his mind with Natasha's comforting warmth so close telling him, it was okay. That he could fall, let go off everything. That there would still be much waiting for him. Like the beloved smell of her hair or the everlasting concern for him of hers.

"Not going anywhere", he murmured into her ear, allowing the quiver in his voice that she would know of anyway. "Just... give me a little time."

Natasha was not an optimistic person; she didn’t look on the bright side of things so much as she looked at what was likely, what was probable. She had grown used to living day by day, and to only being able to trust and rely on herself. Slowly Clint had changed that. He had given her something to live for instead of just being too stubborn to die; he had given her something to live for instead of just surviving. In Clint she had found someone she could trust, could love, could depend on, and with him she sometimes caught herself looking forward to the future instead of just living always in the now.

She was not an optimistic person, but what she was was stubborn. Clint had fought for her, and she would not let him drag himself down without a fight either. No matter how hopeless it felt at times, she would never give up on him.

When he pulled her into his arms it took a split second for her to settle. She was still getting used to being so open with him in public when they were just being themselves instead of playing roles. It felt good, though, and more and more she was coming to terms with just how tired she was of hiding. She had built up her Black Widow persona so well over the years that it was hard to let go and just be Natasha when there were others watching, but now like never before she found herself wanting that freedom.

Slipping her arms around his back, she let herself relax into the embrace. She felt him tremble and ran one hand soothingly up and down his back; heard his voice quiver and held him just a little closer. Complete honesty, that’s what he was giving her, and it meant a lot that he wasn’t trying to hide it away.

“All the time you need,” she whispered back. “And I will be with you, every step of the way.”

This wasn't an offer Natasha would - or could - make easily. Sooner or later they would have to return to their normal lives. If he didn't feel at least a little more stable by then... Then he better hoped, Fury would be just as understanding and compliant with a request for them working together exclusively for a while, as he had been about their holiday.

But that was something Clint didn't want to worry about right now. Right now he could just live from one day to another, enjoy the time they had and not run any longer from what was wrong with him since New York. There couldn't be any bigger reassurance than knowing Natasha by his side so closely.

After a short, heavy sigh, he withdrew enough to leave a quick kiss on her lips, the most of affection he dared to give her in a place like this, and nodded shortly inside then.

"Boarding should be about to start. Two and a half hours to go, guess we'll make i through that."

Maybe they were words she would regret later, but for now she meant them, though if ‘I need time’ meant ‘I need time to wallow’ then she might not be so keen to just stand by and let it happen. She might try to be gentle and subtle at first, but if Clint needed some pushing to get through this then she would provide that too, just as he had for her.

She allowed the quick kiss before pulling out of his embrace, one arm staying around him as she took her place at his side again.

“The longest part of the trip is over,” she reminded him. Of course the last leg always seemed the longest after so long traveling, and with the excitement of getting there, but they were so close now. Just a few more hours. “And if you’re a good boy maybe we can even have a little fun in one of those tiny little airplane bathrooms,” she said with a teasing grin. It was mostly a joke, though she wasn’t opposed to the idea either. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done the whole ‘mile high club’ thing before.

"You are trying to make me embarrass myself, aren't you?"

Clint groaned theatrically but couldn't hide his grin that carried an unhealthy amount of interest in the idea, actually. At least this time Coulson wouldn't sit with his back to the door to listen...

"Just out of pure scientific interest... What would you good boy have to do to make such an encounter happening?"

He moved his arm on her shoulder a bit to be able to play with her hair and run his fingertips over the side of her neck, still grinning.

Natasha gave him her most innocent look, but his overdramatic actions won a short laugh. Just like that he was on again, whether by his own decision or whatever magical comfort her embrace offered. His mood swings were enough to give a person whiplash, but she could only hope that removing him from any stress and reminders would help him level out.

“Pure, scientific interest?” she repeated, raising one eyebrow at him. Tapping her chin with one finger as if deep in thought, she then grasped his between her thumb and forefinger and gave him a gentle shake. “That smile is a good start.”

Releasing his chin, she steered them toward their gate just as the first call for boarding came across the PA. “I should have worn a skirt,” she mused. Not that it was necessary, it just would have made things easier.

"If you keep dropping these pictures on me, we won't make it until the plane takes off", Clint warned her.

Standing in the line gave him the perfect opportunity to move close enough to her for a kiss on her shoulder, and the matching teasing bite to go with his words. As soon as they were through the controls and on the gate bridge, he stayed on perfect polite distance again, that smile still playing on his lips.

It turned out, they were actually lucky for a change. Their seats were as close to the bathroom cabins as could be, and the rows only had two seats, so they were pretty much alone on a flight that wasn't even fully booked.

Born a perfect gentleman at times, Clint offered Natasha the window seat, a now definitely wicked grin on his lips.

Sometimes he really had a one track mind, and it certainly hadn’t taken much to distract him. Her words from earlier at the arcade were likely still near the forefront of his mind, so even the slightest indication that they didn’t have to wait until they got to their destination for a little fun had been enough to get him going again.

It was quite flattering, really.

Settling into her seat, Natasha tried to hold back her own grin when she caught that look in his eyes, but it was no use. Buckling her seatbelt, she rested her hand on his knee while turning her attention out the window, watching as the gate retracted to prepare for takeoff.

Clint of course caught Natasha's amusement at his sudden excitement and gave a light, apologetic shrug. Sometimes he really was just a man, and one blessed with the fucking hottest woman on the planet as his partner. Really no use in claiming that never had any effect on his thinking.

Also, her hand on his knee didn't exactly help not imagining all the things you could do in a small private room. He was very tempted to return the favor, spread his jacket over their legs instead of hanging it up before he buckled up too, so they could have a little fun right away... But well, he had promised to behave or something. So all he did was nudge his leg closer to hers and staring past her out of the window while the plane rolled out on the runway, to not let anyone see his slightly heated cheeks.

"Half an hour in and still behaving. This is a new record, don't you think?"

He really was behaving, and she was more than a little surprised that he didn’t let his hands wander even a little bit. It was pretty impressive for him.

“I believe it is. Good boy,” she agreed, grinning over at him and patting his knee. “I think that deserves a reward.”

Looking up at the seatbelt sign which had now gone dark, Natasha unbuckled her belt and leaned over to give Clint a peck on the cheek. “Give me two minutes,” she whispered in his ear. Standing up, she moved none too innocently past him before closing herself into one of the tiny bathrooms.

It was difficult to not let at once all blood go south when Natasha passed him by definitely too close. Clint had to hold back hard from not at least teasing her in grabbing that perfect ass of hers shortly.

Somehow he managed to turn his head to the window instead, after he knew which cabin she had chosen and forced his thoughts away from whatever she might have planned. And yes, definitely her choice this time. Something in the way she had praised his behavior, left his hands shaking even a little more, and the familiar warm tickle down his spine started to settle.

He couldn't put a finger on it what it suddenly was that attracted him so much to a game he usually - literally - had to be wrestled and bound into. Usually that fighting was part of the game. Someone with the skill, the rhetoric and the duration to dominate him... Such a person was not only the only one he could accept to surrender to, it also was part of the whole appeal.

This... was different. This was about wanting to submit, to worship and obey. Maybe because last time he had been ordered around, that hadn't turned out so hot. He needed to lay control in the hands of someone whom he trusted with his whole being. He needed to learn to let go, that he had realized just an hour ago on that terrace. There was no other person he could do that with, than the woman waiting for him just a few meters away.

After he had put that confusion behind him, the rising urge to be with her was even stronger. He was on his feet as soon as the waiting time was over. He used one of the knocking signals common between them on missions too, to let her know it was him, before he entered, just shortly making sure no one noticed. People were busy with getting comfortable and making orders to the stewardess, luckily.

It was a challenge, definitely, two people moving somewhat freely in such a tiny room, but somehow he made it to squeeze inside as gracefully as possible and lock the door behind him. Then he leaned against it instead of pulling Natasha into his arms immediately, a silent but very clear sign he was more than willing to submit to her call.

Once inside the tiny stall, Natasha impatiently counted down the seconds until she heard that familiar rap upon the door. Flipping the lock, she stood back to leave room for Clint to squeeze himself in. He looked flustered, a little edgy, but she knew exactly how to take that edge off.

Pressing herself against him, she kissed him long and slow, exploring his mouth with her tongue and threading her fingers through his hair. They couldn’t exactly take their time in here, but it had been hours since she’d kissed him properly, and there was always time for one kiss.

“Mm, very good boy,” she spoke against his lips, dropping her hands down between them to undo his belt and the fastens on his jeans.

"Fuck."

Just a whisper against the touch of her lips, but it carried all the built up excitement of the last minutes. Clint wasn't really surprised that he was already reacting to her when she was just busy with his clothes. As fast as this had to happen, it wouldn't be any less intensive.

Her taste on his lips, sweet and coffee, made him long for more. His hand already moved to her neck, the other around her waist, to pull her much closer, get inside her jeans, reclaim her mouth, all at once... He stopped himself before he had hardly touched her, another hard shudder running down his spine, the same reaction that her purred praise had provoked. It had been some time but he remembered quite well how the game worked. And taking part in it on his own for once, at least for the moment without any kind of restraints, added a whole new level of arousal and anxiety.

He wanted to please her... be good for her. Definitely.

Her lips were still close enough to tease her with the slightest touch of his tongue, his nose gently bumping hers.

"What do you want me to do?"

She could feel him holding back and was confused at first before his words made her realise what he was doing. This hadn’t entirely been her intention, she had just been teasing him, but apparently he was taking it seriously. If that was what he wanted, if he wanted her to tell him what to do then she wasn’t going to argue. It was a potentially dangerous step, considering what he had been through, but maybe it was a necessary one, and right now, with her, he would have every opportunity to change his mind.

Meeting his eyes she tried to convey all of that, tried to let him know that they would only go so far as he wanted and he was free to take over at any time. She could have assured him with words, but that wasn’t really how she worked, so she let her eyes do the talking for just a moment before pressing on.

“Well...” she started thoughtfully. Pushing his jeans down over his hips, she wasted no time in freeing him from his underwear and giving him a few strokes to bring him to full attention. “I am not sitting on any surface in here.” That probably went without saying, but she said it anyway.

Pulling away abruptly, she turned to face the sink and made quick work of her own jeans. Pushing them down to her knees, her panties soon followed so she was bared and waiting for him. “I want you to take me from behind.”

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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