study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

Now that he mentioned it she remembered the conversation, but it hardly seemed relevant at the moment. Their vacation had barely started, so even thinking about going back to work was not something she had expected from him so soon. It was encouraging that he was considering any part of that prospect in a good light.

“It is definitely a skill I wouldn’t mind adding to my arsenal,” she replied truthfully, trying to ignore how his voice rumbled in her ear. “And with you as my instructor how could I refuse?” Another level had started and she attacked it with gusto. So focused was she that she didn’t even jump on the obvious euphemism that could be drawn from his praising of how she handled the stick. It wouldn’t benefit her at this point to goad him on.

Apparently she didn’t need to. Apparently just by doing well in the game and not rising to the bait was all it took to make him step up his own game.

Sucking in a breath when he tugged at her panties, drawing the material tight against her, Natasha clenched her jaw and glared harder at the screen. It was getting harder to concentrate.

"Careful, red", Clint chuckled when Natasha escaped just barely two ghosts closing in on her, barely managing to eat one of these cute magic pills that made her player invulnerable. "We don't want anything bad to happen to that little guy."

Of course he had noticed her little startling and made it his job to see it again soon, fingertips idly caressing over the smooth material of her panties, nails scratching lightly. His face was just close enough to hers to tease her sensitive skin with the hint of stubble on his cheeks.

The little super pills were Natasha’s favourite part, where for a few seconds she could turn the tables and hunt the ghosts instead of the other way around. That last one had been a close call, though.

“Oh, we don’t?” she replied, because he was certainly doing what he discretely could to make her lose. She tried to show no reaction, but he was so tuned into her body by now that even the slightest skip of her pulse or clench of her muscles was noticeable. “Because I feel like that is exactly what you want.”

He hadn’t shaved this morning, and she delighted in the feel of his stubble against her skin in spite of everything. Of course she wanted to win, but the way his fingers teased her while his stubble scratched her cheek made her want a whole lot of other things too.

"Just testing your resistance level. Call it collateral damage if we lose little on the way."

Clint didn't let himself be stopped even a second, instead lowered his lips to her shoulder for a few feather light kisses. His hand on her lower belly got more busy, constantly teasing and rubbing her panties tightly against her crotch now.

"Of course, if you want me to stop...."

“Always trying to keep me on my toes. Can’t allow me to become complacent,” she said, biting her lip a little when he started kissing her shoulder.

Natasha could withstand all sorts of torture and never lose her focus, but this was a whole new level of torture, one that she didn’t particularly want to resist, or at least her body didn’t. In her past, before S.H.I.E.L.D., if she had ever let anyone touch her as part of a seduction it had never affected her focus. They were just men, marks, and her body a weapon that could not be triggered by anyone she didn’t want. With Clint it was entirely different. She loved him, she trusted him, and she had never been so helplessly attracted to a man before in her life. He knew what she liked, and knew exactly how to get the reactions he wanted. With him she could completely relax and let herself be helpless to his touch.

Except right now this was about winning, and she wouldn’t win if she gave him, and even admitting that she needed him to stop sounded like defeat.

“I... mmm,” she couldn’t suppress the slight moan when he picked up the pace, giving her no room to breath between his ministrations. It took all of her will power to keep her eyes from closing, and she was grateful for the brief reprieve after completing a level as she waited for the next one to load. “I didn’t say that.”

"Good."

Clint stopped his kisses just for this small whisper and continued on Natasha's neck then, slowly nearing her ear with every touch of his lips.

In the middle of public he couldn't touch her the way he longed for it when she made these irresistable little noises. When he knew, he was driving her crazy, making her feel and let go like no one had ever achieved it. Right now he felt a little like ripping her clothes open and let her feel his own skills with his hands while she was busy with this game.

Well, they would have to delay that to after their arrival. So he just kept up the little game of his fingertips halfway down her pants and put all the more enthusiasm in taking care of her ear. Starting with little kisses and caressing the thin skin with his lips, before he closed them softly around the lobe, gently sucking on it.

He was getting a little more brazen considering they were only barely concealed - he has spotted the machine on their walk by, after all - but he knew better than to push it too far and make it too obvious. Not that he really needed too; it was getting harder and harder to concentrate as it was.

Still, she was holding her own until he sucked her earlobe into his mouth while tugging her panties up against her. For the briefest moment her eyes slipped closed with a quiet curse, and that was all it took. She missed a turn and the ghosts descended on the little Pac-Man, effectively ending her turn with a loud, horrendous burst of music. When she cursed again, in Russian, it wasn’t so quiet.

"Oops...."

Clint removed his hand carefully from Natasha's pants, not without another playful tug, and left another kiss on her neck just for good measure before he straightened up.

"Looks like it's my turn."

He decided not to comment on how sexy it sounded when she cursed in Russian - also he wasn't so sure his brains had translated correct what he was supposed to do with a camel - but just waited for her to make room for him, with a big shit-eating grin on his face.

Loosing was bad enough, but no sooner had the screen reverted back to the menu when Clint was stepping away to leave her frustrated and turned on. This wasn’t a good combination.

Turning to face him, her eyes narrowed to slit as she took in the huge, smug grin he wore. “I guess so,” she said, the simple words sounding dangerous on her tongue, but not as dangerous as her smiled looked when she suddenly grinned back at him. “A kiss for good luck, then.”

She didn’t even try to be discrete when she stepped into his space under the pretense of just that, but instead of a quick peck on the cheek she nipped at his neck right over the bruise she had left on his skin yesterday, while simultaneously giving his crotch a healthy squeeze before abruptly stepping aside to let him at the controls. Let him keep a clear head with that on his mind.

Clint knew that particular smile of hers, of course, and he was pretty sure, he would be in trouble tonight... A thought just as unsettling as exciting. There was really no other person on this planet he'd choose for certain games of dominance and power every other night.

Right now it was still foreplay, though. And Natasha obviously didn't want to lose any time in showing him her kind of payback. It took just that little touch of her lips to a still sensitive place to leave his blood boiling at once, draw a quiet gasp from his mouth.

A sound that turned into a curse of his own quickly with that not so discreet next touch of hers. He quickly had to shift his mind to unpleasant things, like Fury's face in the morning when they had told him, they were on a leave with open end. Otherwise things would become embarrassing. Better, but his pulse racing under her lips still betrayed him.

He refused to give her the satisfaction of a comment, just raised an eyebrow at her, still grinning, and took his seat in front of the machine then. Off to round 2, obviously, with him now maneuvering the female pac-man which was a nice change actually. Not that he cut the little one any slack because of that.

He never played easy, and video games were no exception. When he was gaming, he always dived in head-first, full risk, with no regard of casualities at all. Aggression management or something, whatever, it helped winning most of the time, and that counted. Of course it also got him killed just as often, and more than once he had the police behind his players, even if he was just doing car racing.

At least that wouldn't happen here. And if that joystick wasn't as worn out as the one back then in that foster home, he was pretty sure, he could beat Natasha easily. At least he wouldn't go down without a fight...

Natasha didn’t let her satisfaction at Clint’s reaction show. If he thought he was going to get away scot free then he was sorely mistaken, and now he knew that as well, not that she for one moment believed he hadn’t expected consequences. Perhaps he was even looking forward to them.

Pac-Man was not the only game being played her any longer.

Standing aside to let him take his seat, she waited until he had gotten started before moving to stand behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. “The bow suits you,” she commented, thumbs pressing into his skin as she massaged his shoulders lightly. If she really wanted to win she could easily temporarily paralyze his arms, but that would hardly be enjoyable. He had set the stakes for the game and she would follow suit, though she preferred to ease in a little, let him anticipate what she might do.

"Told you, that will be my next undercover outfit. The drag queen will be for a nice change after all the dull rich guys."

Clint didn't look up even for a second between his chuckles, part of his mind was in complete operation mode. Some things you never forgot, it seemed, so the first two levels were ridiculously easy. That was where the fun started. He made it his job to race through the course in record time, chasing every blue point he could get to attack his enemies, and pretty much asking all of that small round joystick between his fingers when he fled around the next corner.

"Brave little girl", he grinned when his little yellow friend finished another round. "Reminds me of someone."

Natasha stayed surprisingly tame for that dangerous look in her eyes he had just caught, but he knew her well enough to be sure, she would be coming up with something to distract him soon.

Edited 2014-02-25 13:42 (UTC)

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.”

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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