study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

Even as she screamed and moaned and shuddered against him he kept his fingers moving, drawing out every sensation until she was sure she could see fireworks exploding behind her eyes.

She didn’t try to respond to his words verbally, was pretty sure she didn’t have the ability at the moment say much more than his name and maybe a few nonsensical Russian curses drawn together. Instead she planted her hands on the sofa cushion under her and pushed herself up to all fours, moaning again at the change of angle and wishing they had ditched their shirts so she could feel his sweat drenched chest pressed against her back. She didn’t dwell on it, though, as she turned her head toward him as best she could, one hand reaching up to cup the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. It was rough and sloppy, but spoke of all the things she couldn’t find the words to say as she continued to tremble against him, around him, her hips bucking of their own accord.

When they both slowly calmed down, still trembling and hot but not that frantic anymore, Clint gave in to the weakness in his knees finally. Still holding Natasha tightly against him, he somehow made it to lay down on his side, staying inside of her to not risk hurting her after all with a rash movement.
Instead he pulled her close to his chest and buried his face in her damp hair, trying to get the shivers shaking him under control, with little success.
He felt completely drained, for the moment at least, a beautiful nothing on his mind but the scent of her body and her lust and the perfect way they fit together. His arm hugging her close was gently draped across her chest, fingertips caressing her shoulder and neck, and he smiled when he could still feel her pulse race.

"Jesus, Nat... Wow."

Okay, so coherent speeching was still on holiday. But he thought she would still have a pretty good idea how very much he had enjoyed this. He pressed his face against her neck, still smiling, just felt and listened to her breathing. He let the last of their lust wash over them while the natural movements of her muscles and his flattening erection slowly guided him outside of her tight hotness.
Another blissed out sigh escaped his lips. Yep, definitely sensitive but so much worth it. Hopefully she felt the same.

"You good, Tash'? I didn't hurt you, did I? You've had me pretty far gone there in the end."

It was a bit of a struggle to move without simply collapsing, but Clint’s strong arms held her against him and helped her move until they were both laying comfortably on their sides, her back pressed tightly to his front so that she could feel his heart beating. Laying her hand on the arm he wrapped around her, she caressed his skin softly while she tried to catch her breath, the aftershocks still causing her to tremble but slowly fading.

“I think ‘wow’ sums it up,” she said, grinning widely. She could still feel him inside of her while they both slowly came down from the euphoric high, but by the time they’d caught their breath he had softened and slipped out, though he kept her close.

“I’m okay,” she said, threading her fingers through his and holding his hand lazily. She felt tender, and she wasn’t so sure it wouldn’t be a bit uncomfortable to sit for a while, but the experience had been worth it. “You never hurt me.” Snuggling back against him, she breathed slowly. “You know, if any of your tenants are still here tonight then they now know how amazing you are in bed.” The grin was clear in her voice.

"And how amazing you are", Clint added, grinning, and definitely completely serious. About the amazing-part at least.

The heat slowly subsided but for now the cool air was a welcome refreshment on his skin, and he held Natasha close enough to share his warmth with her. He didn't think he could move enough to search for that blanket.
Before long they both would need a quick stop in the bathroom, but right now he was fully content with holding her like that, too exhausted to move more than with the tender touch of his hand. Even his eyelids felt heavy though he wasn't really tired.

Natasha's assurance helped him calm his mind, too, put worry aside and just revel in the memory of the last minutes. A complete sexual blackout, definitely. And yet they had both wanted it just as much, had let themselves fall into it the same way they sparred, they fought, in instinctive consent.
It was really no surprise he had come to love this woman so much. And to think he didn't have to hide that anymore... He pressed his face a little closer to her skin when the deep thankfulness and happiness threatened to overwhelm him again, and turned his hand to take hers, softly caressing it.

“Maybe, but they don’t know me,” Natasha pointed out. They had possibly seen her come and go on occasion, but it wasn’t like she had attended any community functions or dinner parties.

The air was a bit chilly but she barely felt it with the sweater and Clint’s body heat keeping her warm. Cracking one eye open she looked at the candle still flickering on the coffee table before her eyes moved to the window where she saw only darkness without. Somehow in the midst of their passion the storm had passed over. It was still raining, the sound beating steadily against the roof, but it wasn’t as heavy as before and the accompanying thunder and lightening was over.

She closed her eyes again when Clint nuzzled against the back of her neck and stroked her hand softly. “You may have to let a professional cleaner at this couch after tonight,” she teased. Rubbing her foot down his leg she tangled them together until there was no space remaining between them.

Maybe she really could get used to this.

"I'm good at cleaning stuff. I've been in the circus and in the army", Clint chuckled, his voice muffled with his mouth so close to her skin.
He pressed a soft kiss to her neck while he was on it and rested his head on his arm, the comfortable silence and laziness still thick in his head.

Natasha pressing her body even closer to his didn't allow any coldness to creep in. He couldn't remember ever holding her like this. Not like this, not with the scent of lust reminding him of what they had just done, his arm pressing her safe to his chest while his fingertips drew soft circles on the back of her hand. Where his thigh rested against her sex, her skin was still moist from their game and he sighed, keeping a soft, steady touch, enjoying the aftermath of their pleasure.

"I don't think I can ever stand up from this couch again."

“Nice to know they taught you some useful skills,” she teased, unable to keep the smile off of her face. It was ridiculous, Natasha Romanoff didn’t get ‘giddy’ or euphoric or whatever the hell this was she was feeling. She didn’t walk on clouds, her heart didn’t skip any beats, but in this moment she felt like all those stupid romantic clichés all rolled into one. It was stupid and childish and she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment because above all else she felt happy, and that was a feeling she wanted to hold on to as long as she could.

His thigh pressing against her was strangely comfortable despite how sensitive she still felt, and she thought she could fall asleep just like that even though she wasn’t tired. Physically, yes, she felt drained, but she wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet, it was still early.

“Mm, that might become a problem eventually,” she said, though at the moment she couldn’t exactly argue.

"Nah, it's good. We'll just order Chinese food and Tacos everyday and watch silly movies all day. I've never come around to show you the real classics, like Alien and High Noon."

Clint pretended to be not half as serious as he actually felt in such moments, when all he wanted to do was to forget that they did have a life outside of what was between them. And that they would eventually have to return to it.

Not now. He buried his face in his arm, sighing, and groaned when he felt the sensitive spots where he had nearly bitten his skin open.
"Then again, two days in, you'd probably kill me. Heart attack or whatever too good sex gives you."

“So we’ll grow fat and lazy, then?” Natasha replied, raising an eyebrow though he couldn’t see it. “I doubt we can keep these bodies on sex alone.” Not that she wasn’t tempting to try. Certainly one of the more pleasurable ways to work out.

For Natasha’s part, she preferred to focus on the present than worry about the future. She knew they couldn’t really stay like this forever, and as wonderful as that sounded now she knew it wasn’t something she really wanted. As important as Clint had become to her, the most important thing in her life if she was honest, she knew they couldn’t build their worlds around each other, it wasn’t healthy. They needed time apart too, time to miss each other and think about each other so that they never began to take each other for granted. Every couple needed space sometimes, but that was in the future and for the present she was content to make that space as small as possible.

“Only two days?” she questioned, wondering what he was groaning for. He couldn’t possibly be ready to go again so soon. He certainly didn’t feel ready against her. “Had I known you were such a lightweight maybe I would have chosen a different partner.”

"Yeah, like you could find someone who keeps up with you. And flies your pretty ass out of the field every time you need a ride. Or charters you a boat. Really, it's a miracle you come home every time we're on separate missions."

There were back to teasing, and it was just as nice as the romantic afterglow before. It helped Clint clear his head a bit. They'd be back to adrenaline sooner or later anyway but they didn't need to spend the whole weekend with it. He just wanted to make use of the time with Natasha as long as it was possible, do what they so seldom had the chance for. Laugh, talk, fool around. Just be with her.

Well, and if he was a little bold, lowering his head to her shoulder to give her a most playful, gentle, loving bite, she could always use her elbow on him to pull his heads out of the clouds.

“Why should I bother to put the effort in when I know you’ll do it for me?” she replied, squeezing his hand. “But you do have a point. I guess I will have to keep you.”

Like she would ever even consider anyone else. It had been hard enough letting Clint in, and he had been very persistent about tearing down her walls, making her realise she didn’t have to keep everyone at arm’s length. It was a little easier now letting down her guard around others, being friendly and joking, but she never let anyone else truly see the real her. Nobody else would have fought for her, nobody else would have put up with her for so long, but it wasn’t a case of staying with Clint because there was no one else; it was because she didn’t want anyone else. He had said that the were made for each other, and she liked to believe that that was true.

“Hey,” she scolded. Bringing his hand up to her mouth she gave his knuckle a nip in the same manner. “Behave.” Back to the same playful admonishment as before.

"Yep, you're stuck with me. Might as well accept that sad fate."

Chuckling to himself, Clint brought his hand back to her shoulder and closed his eyes again, pushing from his mind that he didn't mind at all having Natasha's teeth on him. From time to time. Not tonight anymore.

Right now he was completely content with just feeling her. His hand half and half slipped under the loose, soft hem of the sweater just to hold her even closer, skin to skin.
His fingertips traced idle circles on her shoulder and arm, admiring the smooth softness of and finding the few places where it wasn't, where too flat, sensitive tissue met his rough pads.

Stories, mistakes, compromises. Reminders. Belonging to her just like her stunning appearance, the sexiness of her voice and her stunning smile. The proof of her strength, her survival, and he knew nearly all of them.

Budapast on the back of her arm, right below her armpit. Latvia, three fainting lines of claws around her blade bone.

And of course the aggressive scraggy circle right below her collarbone from his own arrow. That was where his fingers lingered, gently covering her shoulder while he breathed another kiss onto her neck.

Partners, yes, for more than ten years, and he gladly hauled her sweet ass out of every grave situation, ever since he had had to pin her to the floor to save her life. Not one of his best memories. The less he had to worry about her, the better.

Maybe they could ask Nick to assign them on a few more missions together than in the last years. But Clint knew that he couldn't always be there, and one day he wouldn't be when he needed too. That thought kept him awake too often to just joke the subject aside.

"I could give you a few lessons, though, if that's okay with you. It can be really helpful to get a plane in the air by yourself."

His hand was warm against her skin and Natasha let out a sigh of complete and utter contentment. Even with the warmth of his skin against hers, though, she shivered when his calloused fingers brushed over her various scars, the tissue never having fully regained all feeling. She remembered every one of them, just like she knew he did, and the ones he hadn’t been present for he had learned the story of later and committed to memory. No matter how many scars she gained, though, he always went back to the one he had given her.

She wore her scars like badges, never self conscious nor embarrassed of a single one of them, but that one was her favourite, it was the one that had changed her life.

“You want to teach me to fly?” she asked, a bit surprised by the offer. “But what can I offer in return? Russian lessons, maybe?”

"You've got plenty of co-pilot-experience. Won't be that much to learn. Flying is mostly... about feeling. And I'm holding the living proof how well you can do that."

He dipped his head to her neck again, nibbling on her skin gently to take the emotional edge of his words, though he didn't mean them any less. There had been enough serious talk for the night.
For the same reason he didn't try to tell her that being with him shouldn't be about a bargain in any way for her. That was not how he lived his life but it had long been a great part of hers, and some things needed time to be forgotten.

"It's fine, red. You know I love spending time with you. We can refreshen our occasional Russian conversations, though, if you need something to laugh. I'm afraid my pronunciation is still unworthy."

She knew he was treading on something deeper, knew there was more to this offer than there appeared to be on the surface, but he was deflecting and she let him. She liked the playful air that had fallen over them and was happy to continue that a while longer.

“Well, if my flying is as good as my driving you should be in for a wild ride,” she replied, squirming slightly when he nibbled at her neck.

The Russian thing had mostly been a joke, though Natasha did still live her life according to bargains and compromises. She liked to barter, to trade services; she didn’t like being left feeling like she owed any debts. She knew sometimes people just did things because they wanted to, because it made them feel good to help, but that was not how she was raised and it was not an easy lesson to get over.

“You’ll never get better if you don’t practice,” she said. “Though I kind of enjoy your pronunciation.” Mostly because, yes, it was that bad.

Clint was about to answer, if she thought his pronunciation was bad, she should try teach Phil a few lessons in her mother tongue. Then he remembered Phil was dead and shut his mouth, a painful shiver running all the way down his arms, and he could just hope she wasn't looking there right now. He didn't want to ruin the playful mood with his tiresome issues.

"Didn't really need to speak it much lately", he said instead, pretending a harmless shrug. "But hey, we can always mix pleasure with use and ask for an assignment in Russia. Like, some observation detail in a snowy village with no communication."

That sounded better than his discipline should allow it, Clint found, with a quiet sigh. No communication, no report, no therapy, no evaluations. He would probably never leave this magical place again.

Natasha didn’t see him shiver, but she felt it and pressed her body back against his in silent reply. She didn’t know what had caused it and she didn’t ask. She had never been one to press unless it was really serious and she felt the situation demanded it; otherwise she trusted him to tell her if he needed to talk. Perhaps not the best approach, but one she felt most comfortable with when their roles were reversed.

She had to admit that the idea of hiding away in Russia, cut off from the world for a while and under the guise of work, wasn’t entirely unappealing. They could set up cameras and detection equipment, run surveillance and record the data from a cozy cabin in the middle of nowhere, or infiltrate a small town as a young couple just trying to escape the hustle and bustle of city life for a while.

It was rather tempting.

“Why Agent Barton, are you asking me to run away with you?” she teased, turning her head and trying to catch a glimpse of his face over her shoulder.

"Don't tempt me", Clint murmured, still too caught up in his dark thoughts to really mind his words and then it was too late. So much for not ruining the mood.

Thankfully, he responded to her body pressing against his even closer and tried to hide his face in her hair until he could shake this damn melancholy off.

In a way, this embrace was even better, even closer than what they had done before. Even with Natasha's mostly nude, stunning body pressing most intimately into him, his mind didn't try to channel all his energy into sex again. It had always been about so much more for him with her.

Natasha was the one who had known him through from the start, and after she had learned to trust him had always understood him, accepted him the way he was. She was the one who had not given up on him when everyone else had thought him lost. It was for her, he was here now, and she was the one to hold his ice cold, trembling body at night and turn her face away until his tears had dried.

He didn't need to play any kind of role for and that was why he gave it up hiding after a few seconds, shrugging, sighing. She would know anyway.

"Just a little weary lately, I guess. It will pass."

As much as she didn’t want to lose this blissful feeling, Natasha was glad that Clint didn’t try to hide whatever was going on with him, that he didn’t try to put on a happy face for her. They were long past that, to a place where they could be honest about everything, and although it wasn’t always easy she never wanted to go back to how it had been before.

“Clint,” she said his name softly. “If you need some time away, we can do that.”

There was no hesitance in her offer, and no question that she truly meant it when she said ‘we’. She knew how hard everything had been on him, she had been the one who had picked up the pieces, and she wasn’t about to give up on him now. If he needed a vacation then she would go with him; if he needed a distraction she would provide it. Whatever he needed, she would do whatever she could to give it to him. “We both have some vacation time saved up, so why don’t we use it?.”

Reaching behind her she threaded her fingers through his hair, fingertips pressing gently against his scalp. She thought of rolling onto her back so she could see him, but that would put distance between them and she thought he might need the closeness. “We could go to Spain, or Iceland, or... we could just stay here, in this apartment.”

"Too close to superhero business", Clint murmured, answering to the last of her offers.

A lazy weekend at home with Natasha right now was about the best thing in the world, but if they were seriously talking about leaving for a while... When had that happened and when had the frustration of the last months suddenly turned into an up-flow? Anyway, if this had really been a thing, he'd have wanted to be out. Out of everything, as much as possible with employers who never let you off their radar for even 24 hours.

Well, Clint did know a few places where they could at least piss Fury off in having to search for them thoroughly to check on their doings.

"I've got a place in a little village in Sicily. It's... off. Out of sight."
He sighed again, getting a little lost in the vision of clear blue water, a sinfully delicious cuisine and clean, lonely beaches. A tuneful, lively language colored with the lust for life. It had been a while.

It was a nice idea but there were a few things that would stand in the way and he forced himself to tear his thoughts away before he could get too delusional. Nice dreams weren't exactly his business for quite a time now. The waking up was too harsh.

"Not exactly your kind of weather though, is it?"
He softly nudged her hair aside with his nose to have better access to her neck, thank her for her understanding and good intentions with a series of tender kisses.

"And I'm not sure..."
He hesitated with coloring this conversation even darker than he already had, his arm tightening around her chest, as if she was about to turn and leave anytime soon. Not that soon but even beautiful weekends like this would end eventually and then it was back to office work, the shooting range, rookie training and observation detail in between therapy sessions. Better to get this talk over with and forget about what was to come day after tomorrow.
"I don't think they'll let me go, Tash'."

Right, of course. Staying here they were too close, too easily reachable, and while it would work for a weekend it wouldn’t be long before someone came knocking. Away it was, then.

She listened to him talk, let him suggest his own piece of paradise, noted how he sighed almost dreamily and decided right then that she would make it happen. Closing her own eyes again as he kissed her neck, she continued to stroke her fingers soothingly through his hair. “I don’t know, it sounds nice for a change. And I could use a tan.” In the end she would go wherever he wanted, just like she knew he would do the same for her. Cold and snow weren’t exactly ‘his kind of weather’, but he would go in a heartbeat if she asked.

Apparently that wasn’t the problem, though, and she tried to keep her breathing steady even as he hesitated to finish his statement. Perhaps she should have expected his answer, but somehow she hadn’t.

“I can persuade them.” Maybe they would release him into her custody. She could send them updates on his progress, she knew how to cheat the system so they couldn’t track her location. Maybe that would be enough.

Suddenly things sounded so easy.

Clint got up on his elbow just enough to get a better look at Natasha, without moving away from her. His body slowly began to remember how to move again, filled with a strange kind of restlessness.

Away. Out. Holiday. When had he last had that? Before S.H.I.E.L.D., probably, and the last try had ended in New Mexico, to welcome a god on Earth, one day in.
Since then he had not allowed himself to even think of it anymore. Especially not since New York, since every day was nothing but proving himself, proving he was alright, keep it low and avoid attracting the wrong attention.

Natasha suddenly made it sound so easy getting away from all this for a while and maybe it was. Maybe it had just been her to point it out. To give him a reason to leave everything behind for a while. Playing his part as best as he could sure hadn't gotten him everywhere so far.

"They won't like it." He nudged his chin and cheek gently against her head, breathing in the soft smell of her hair, and went back to spoil her neck with gentle kisses, light occasional nibbles. "But I think I've reached the point of not giving shit."

Turning her head to look up at him, Natasha studied his features, a hint of an encouraging smile on her face. She didn’t waver, not once, practically radiating confidence that this would work. The truth of the matter was that it wasn’t confidence she held but determination. She would make this happen, no matter what.

“Good,” she said, letting her eyes close again and her smile widen when he shifted all his attention back to her neck. “Because I don’t give a shit either if they like it or not, we will be taking the vacation we are entitled to. Legally they can’t stop us.”

Monday morning they would submit the leave like any normal day and if it was denied... well, that’s when things would get ugly.

"I'd love to see you pull a Natalie Rushman on Nick."

Clint chuckled, trying to lift the mood.
Again he got a little lost in the vision of such an upcoming time for just the two of them. Natasha could probably do it, he thought, and if not, if that would be an unfriendly scene in Nick's office on Monday... Well, maybe it was time to re-think his job situation anyway. The only thing that had kept him from that so far, he just held in his arms, and since Natasha obviously didn't mind giving their employers a piece of mind...
Maybe he was a little too shy with changes lately.

"We'll need lots of suncream. And I'm afraid I'll have to keep you really busy at night. You know, this whole sex-as-workout-thing? Italian pasta makes you gain 10 pounds just by looking at it."

He said it with pleasure, a hint of anticipation in his voice. He could swear he could smell tuna and cream for a moment. Yeah, definitely been too long.

Natasha just smiled at Clint’s reply. She wouldn’t be pulling anything on Fury, she would simply be telling him like it is, calmly and coldly. Either he honour their right to vacation or she would make the following few hours of his life miserable while she quoted every relevant line of their contracts and the labour code, and if that didn’t work she wasn’t above resorting to a little friendly blackmail.

Shifting so that she lay on her back and could more easily look up at him, Natasha’s smile grew soft and affectionate. Just seeing how happy this idea made him convince her that it was the right thing for him, maybe for both of them. Time heals all wounds, they say, but she knew how much of a struggle the past few months had been for Clint, and maybe time wasn’t enough. He clearly needed this, and she was going to make damn sure to give him everything he needed.

“So we’ll be eating lots of pasta, then?” she replied. Running her hand up to cup the back of his head, she pulled him down for a lingering kiss before reluctantly pulling away. “Hold that thought,” she said, squirming out of his arms. As much as she didn’t want to move, some things can’t be ignored.

Hissing when her bare feet hit the cold floor, Natasha pushed herself up to her feet and awkwardly made her way to the bathroom. Her knees still felt weak, and she was certainly strained and tender in other places, so there was no sexy strut this time even though she was sure he was watching her.

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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