study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

For Clint to admit he was afraid he must have been downright terrified. It was just all so foreign, so unknown, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t worried about it herself more than once. She had knocked him out and it had seemed to bring him back around, but what if it was only temporary? What if Loki somehow returned and was able to reinstate his control? There were so many ‘what ifs’ that nobody could answer, and clearly the doctors were just just as worried about a setback, though Natasha also felt that their lack of confidence was only compounding things and making them worse. If they truly believed he was fine they would lessen his appointments or clear him completely.

She felt the violent shiver run though him and pressed herself closer, almost protesting when he moved away but knowing that confining him wouldn’t be a good idea. Thankfully he only put enough distance between them to turn to face her before pulling her into his arms where she could hold him close again. When he buried his face in her shoulder she wrapped one arm around his back and the other over his shoulder. Threading her fingers in the hair at the back of his head, she placed a soft kiss at his temple. For a moment she considering rolling to lay on her back so she could more easily hold him, but the position seemed a bad idea right now with his fears of overpowering and hurting her. It would be better to remain neutral or take a more dominant position herself unless he wanted otherwise.

“I’m always careful,” she assured him. “You won’t hurt me, Clint. Neither of us would allow it.”

"I can't be sure of that. Ever anymore. That's what makes it so hard. I can just try my best, everyday again."

But Clint didn't say it with as much hurt and fear as before, mainly resignation left. And a great deal of relief. Maybe he had just needed to hear that Natasha would take care of herself indeed, that she would watch out for dangers when he couldn't see them coming, because they were on the inside.

Never again, as long as he could do anything about it.

If that had just made the last of fear easier, the pictures of blood on his mind that never really had happened. They were stubborn like the rest of his fucked up mind, but the longer he buried his face against Natasha's shoulder, allowing a few last drops of too deep emotion touching her skin, the more he could drag himself away from that useless train of vision.

His hand was aimlessly roaming down her back, pulling her closer to him but the position wasn't the best, and finally he leaned back again, taking her with him.

"Like it where you were before", he mumbled against her skin, gently draping her leg over his so they could press into each other again.
"You're better than any blanket."

“Maybe you can’t be sure, but I am,” she said with complete resolution. If his fears came to pass then she would fight him again, but she had to believe that he would be fighting too, fighting to free himself and to keep from harming her. She couldn’t rely on that, of course, but things had changed between them and as silly as it was, as childish and fanciful, she wanted to believe that it would help. “You’ve always been so strong, Clint, but we’re even stronger together.”

She could live her life with the same fear that he did, that someone from her past would return and try to flip that switch again, but that wasn’t how she lived and somehow she would convince Clint not to live that way either. For now, though, she could only offer encouraging words and a shoulder to cry on. Running her hands soothingly through his hair while he cried, she didn’t protest when he pulled her back to lay on top of him again, just let him move her however he needed.

“And you make a pretty decent pillow,” she replied with a soft smile. It seemed the storm had passed, and while she knew this was far from over she felt like it would be easier to move forward now with everything out in the open. She was grateful to him for confiding in her, and a bit proud that it was her he had chosen, but in the end who else did either of them really have?

"It's you who helped me become stronger, you know."

Clint's thumb grazed her lips, capturing that smile he needed more than anything right now. Only his knuckles, where his skin wasn't as rough as on the inside of his hand, gently brushed her cheek.

When she laid with him like that, without her uniform, her weapons, tiredness instead of tension coloring her movements, sometimes he forgot how deadly she really. One could fall for that tender vulnerability, nearly afraid to touch her, not wanting to disturb that perfectly illusionary picture.

It was an illusion that Natasha had beaten out of him pretty much at their first meeting already. In the course of the years she had always been a kind of idol, if he had ever had one. He had needed to be on her level to become the partner she wanted - often needed - by her side.
And only too often, after especially bad missions, he had somehow made it to orientate himself on that never ending motivation of hers. The wish to make it better, to help and come out of it a better person at the end.

Clint wasn't sure, he would be still here now if it hadn't been for her. Maybe he needed to trust her firm belief and stubbornness once more, when she told him, he would be alright.

The desire to kiss her was suddenly overwhelming strong, so he quickly lowered his head, lifting her chin enough to cover her lips, let their softness chase away the last of frightening pictures behind his closed eyes. His arm around her waist gently pulled her closer, the need to feel her pressed tightly against him growing. Maybe he was a little addicted to her touch, alright. There definitely was worse to endure.

When he finally looked at her, his eyes fixing on her lip, Natasha studied his face. “We helped each other,” she said, leaning just slightly into his soft touch.

While Natasha had been his idol, Clint had been her saviour. He was the first person to see her as a human, not just an asset; to see her as a woman, not just an object. He saw her strengths and her faults, and despite her past and her skills he had still let himself trust her.

That day he had spared her he’d done so much more than save her life. She had been little more than a drone, a shell, and over the years he had helped her discover who she truly was. For so long she had liked what she was told to like, had done what she was told to do, but Clint had given her a choice, something nobody else ever had. She would forever be in his debt for what he had done for her.

The kiss came as no surprise and she melted into it, into his arms and his body, the emotional scene they had just worked through making the need even greater. They had done pretty well with communicating, finally, but actions were always easier so she kissed him back, slow and deep. Shifting her leg so she could straddle him, she lay her body flush over his, their chests pressed together tightly until she could no longer distinguish between their heartbeats.

Until she shifted position, Clint held on pretty well, but having a naked Natasha sprawled on top of him, left him without any reaction only when he was dead. Or on heavy drugs.

He could perfectly do without another adrenaline ride for the rest of the night or however long it would take until the mood would shift like that next time. But she was there, skin to skin to half of his body, soft full flesh pushing into his chest, and the heat building between their bodies chased away the last of coldness inside. No surprise that his manly parts obviously thought, they were headed in a certain direction.

He ignored it bluntly and concentrated on enjoying their kiss instead. On that feeling he had told her about earlier, that always made it to ground him... Just her, purely, bare wherever his hands went, giving herself, her securities, all her feelings over to him without a second thought.

As he held her closely against his slightly faster rising and falling chest, his hands roamed aimlessly up and down her sides, fingertips teasing the backsides of her arms. A few strands of her sleep-messed hair he nudged just enough over her shoulder so he could catch her scent. That was really all he needed right now, while his lips melted against hers, tongue teasing the sensitive skin casually in between... Embracing her with all of his senses.

He had finally stopped trembling and his hands were now warm against her skin, his touch forever gentle. She knew how deadly those hands were, but despite their battle on the helicarrier it was hard to imagine those hands hurting her in any way, not when he touched her with such care now. He was always so terrified of hurting her, of making her do anything she didn’t want to, and after their talk she thought she understood that a little better.

She felt him responding to her but didn’t acknowledge it. He had just poured his heart out to her, finally told her about the nightmares and fears he’d been bottling up for months and she wanted him to know she was there for him, and she wasn’t about to just brush it off with something physical, not anymore. There was more between them now than that, she had more to give him than just her body, though she would still gladly give him that as well. She let him set the pace, let him touch her and mold her however he needed while reveling in the closeness and intimacy and the sheer pleasure of his kiss.

When Clint finally broke their kiss, he did it only to press his face back into the crook of her neck, a happy, relaxed sigh on his lips, when his arms around her pressed her close into his, until it felt like they were more one person than two. His fingertips tangled in her curls, gently massaging along her neck and over her scalp while his other hand had somehow, magically come to rest on the sweet curve of her butt- well, he couldn't blame himself. It was indeed one of his favorite part of hers.

"Best waking up I've had in months", he mumbled against her skin, so deep and fully content it nearly came out as a purr.

Well, okay, he could have done without the dream part, but there definitely was no better way to warm up than with Natasha's soothing voice and touch guiding him.

Natasha settled back against him, and when she felt him relax against her her own tension slowly slipped away. He really was surprisingly comfortable to lay on, and more than that it was surprising just how comfortable she was with him. There were no masks, no lies; with Clint she was simply Natasha with all her flaws and issues, and he accepted and loved her as she was.

“I find that hard to believe,” she chuckled though it wasn’t as light as she intended. He hadn’t thrashed around, hadn’t screamed himself awake, but she doubted it was a pleasant awakening by any means nonetheless. “But if you go back to sleep now I promise to stay right here so you have a much better one in a few hours.” This time the smile in her voice was genuine.

"I believe, that's called bribery", he chuckled, not even making the smallest move to let go off her. The hell he would complain about such a comfortable beautiful cover warming him for the rest of the night.

"Just wake me, should it get uneasy."

No, as much as he tried, he couldn't completely get that worry out of his head that he might leash out in the wrong direction in a weak moment, but at least he had the reassurance now that she would take care of herself.
It made it easier to close his eyes, after a last kiss onto her forehead, and try slip into a light kind of meditation that would allow him to fall asleep easier.

“Don’t think of it as bribery so much as an incentive,” Natasha replied, smiling wider at the chuckle in his voice. She knew things couldn’t be smoothed over so easily every time, that there would be times when the darkness was harder to banish, but for now she wasn’t going to argue and just accept this blessing.

“I will,” she promised. Turning her head she settled it against his shoulder again, one hand drifting lazily up and down his arm. She had always loved his arms; even before, even in the beginning she had been able to appreciate them, and now they were definitely one of her favourite attributes.

Listening carefully to his breathing, even if he drifted off she was content to stay awake, to make sure she kept her promise. It would take some time to get used to sleeping like this, but it was a pleasant prospect that she was looking forward to.

It was one of the dark ones again, one of those he hated most, when Natasha was involved, but this time he realized early enough he was dreaming. With some effort made it to turn away in time, before the screaming and bleeding could start.
He could still feel her press against his body, naked and warm, and part of his clouded mind realized, that was real. So he allowed his mind to dwell there, hands softly, slightly clumsily in his drowsy state caressing her back while she smiled at him.

They were talking, he couldn't quite make out the words. His hearing implants probably were off. He didn't need to hear. She had told him yesterday what he had longed for all the time, and he had already memorized these few syllables on her beautiful full lips.

It wasn't until the shot fell and she collapsed in his arms, lifelessly, that he realized his subconsciousness had played another evil trick on him.

At least he managed to tear himself awake immediately this time, breath racing through his chest in harsh, short gasps, his arms still closed tightly around her body. He was awake, no disorientation this time, no irrational fear. Just his eyes burning with the last remains of the dream as he buried his face against her neck just like so often last evening and tried to forget.

His warmth, his steady heartbeat, the even rise and fall of his chest; they all worked to lull Natasha into a state that wasn’t quite sleeping, but much more relaxed than normal. Ultimately she stayed awake, though, determined to keep her promise, and to be there if Clint needed her, as soon as he needed her. She hoped he wouldn’t, that he could sleep soundly and dreamlessly this time.

Unfortunately that wasn’t to be.

She noticed it first in the increase in his heartbeat, then the tightening of his arms around her before he suddenly awoke, gasping for breath.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her lips close to his ear, hand moving up to stroke through his hair. “I’m right here. Everything’s fine. I’m fine.” She didn’t know the details of his dream, but from their talk earlier she could only assume she had played a part in it.

He knew she was okay, he could feel it, hear her... Still he had to bring his trembling hand to her neck to feel her skin smooth and intact there, free of every trace of blood, of the slightest scrape.

Only now he he could allow his body to relax back into the mattress. The adrenaline of an unexpected turn in the middle of a most pleasant dream had his body wired up, though. His back hard with tension, his eyes searching the room a few times, making sure everything was in order before he pressed his forehead against Natasha's shoulder.

He was still trying to get his breathing under control when he loosened the hold of his arms around her back, afraid to hurt her, just gently placed his hands on her waist instead.

"We're safe, right? We're alone..."

Her fingers continued to move through his hair but otherwise she didn’t move, just let him hold her, let his hands move over her until he’d satisfied himself that she was truly there and well. His embrace was so strong, almost painful, but Natasha didn’t let her discomfort show, even managed to let her breath out slowly when he finally slackened his hold.

“Yes,” she answered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. “Just you and me.”

Something between a chuckle and a huff came over his lips at her response. Well, that was what they usually told their marks before the killing shot. Which tended to be a little morbid after that last dream.
"I hope."

Blinking the last of sleep from his eyes, he soon realized, Natasha didn't look any different than before the second try, not the slightest ruffle in her hair, and her eyes were clear.

"I'm keeping you awake."

Sighing, he pushed her hair out of her face, resting his forehead against hers, trying to let the familiar feeling of closeness settle in like before. If he wanted to try and get another dose of sleep - hopefully this time without steeling Natasha hers - he needed to get this last tension out of his spine. But right now he couldn't even close his eyes without flinching.

Her words had the desired effect, and while it was weak it was still a chuckle. She knew he’d recognize her choice of words no matter how tired and disoriented he was.

Leaning her forehead against his she smiled softly, her fingers following his hairline and brushing back behind his ear. “It’s okay,” she said easily. “You know I don’t require much sleep to feel rested.”

She had trained her body well over the years to not just function but be completely alert on very little sleep. Perhaps not healthy, but it was training she wasn’t about to let lax. It seemed highly useful even now.

He couldn't help but sigh at her fingers running through his hair, leaning into the touch immediately, let the tender caress chase away what was left of ghosts inside his head.

Soon he was back to give back the same tenderness, caressing her legs so soothingly enclosing his, her shoulders, her spine, feeling a lot more relaxed curling into him than he was.

Little need for sleep or not, this was not something they would do every night... But having her so close now, for such a long time, helped a great deal, especially after last evening when things had deepened so much between them. He was still bathing in that so long-sought relief of their feelings for each other, and if he couldn't get enough of her touch for a night... Well, that just seemed about right for a man completely and utterly in love.

And he just knew, without a doubt, after that difficult evening with thunder and coldness, provoking the fears he just couldn't get rid of since New York... He would have been in a much worse state right now, without her being there for him.

"Thank you, red."

He placed a few gentle kisses on her neck while he let his hands roam her body, sighing deeply again when the remains of the last panic attack slowly ceased, until nothing but that feeling remained. Just... having her. Being with her. Whenever time and place was right.
And no fucking asshole from this or another planet would take that from him. Not the way they had tried to.

She could feel him slowly relaxing, her smooth skin under his hands having a soothing effect on him. She made no protest, just let him touch her wherever and however he wanted, and maybe he wasn’t the only one it was soothing to.

He wasn’t the only one who had dreams. Some nights she dreamt that she hadn’t been successful, that a knock to the head hadn’t been enough. Some nights he got the better of her and the results were just as horrific as Loki threatened, and other nights she lost him completely. It was the night she had to kill him, to kill him to save him, that she never forgot a detail of.

At his thanks she said nothing, just lifted her head and kissed his lips softly. They both had a lot to be thankful for, but it seemed the top of their lists definitely had to be each other.

If they hadn't lain so close to each other, probably he wouldn't have realized, but his lips were resting right where her pulse was a tad too quick for a moment, her chest pressing into his shivering with a deep breath. And when she turned her head to kiss him, he could see it in her eyes, just before they closed, the same look he kept on seeing in the mirror.

He didn't say anything because they had talked already all evening and half of the night. He just buried his hand in her hair and kissed her the way, the both needed it.

He claimed her mouth with tender touches, sighing against her skin, teeth tenderly scraping over the sensitive flesh before the tip of his tongue teased it, sneaking its way in. His leg gently caressed up and down her lower leg, embracing her like her arms around her. His hand resting on the sweet swell of her butt pressed her closer against him as his breathing grew deeper, content and calm with what played between them. They were alive, they had each other and what they felt, and it was still there, even in heavy moments.

She hadn’t meant for him to see it, hadn’t wanted him to notice. For tonight she wanted to be his rock, wanted to be strong in the face of all of his fears; she hadn’t wanted to let on that she harboured some of the same herself.

It didn’t matter though as he didn’t mention it, maybe didn’t even notice, a fact that Natasha was entirely grateful for. The time for words had passed, it was the kiss, the touch, the intimacy that they both needed now. His kiss was gentle, but it wasn’t long before she deepened it; not desperate, not hard, just long and slow and deep. Her hand slid over his chest, her fingernails just lightly scraping his skin as he pressed her closer, his name a breathless whisper on her lips.

He captured her lips back in another deep kiss before she had quite said his name, tongue slipping in between, playfully sliding along hers. His fingertips on her ass slipped just a little deeper, knuckles running up and down the backsides of her thighs and her sensitive lips. Teasing, acknowledging, inviting but not demanding.

He let her feel the muscles of his abdomen playing against her bare mound and stroked her neck softly while he explored her mouth, but all in a calm, relaxed motion, his breath still going slow, even deeper now.

He didn't want her to move away from top of him, he didn't need to get lost in another adventure, not now. He just needed to feel her and would gladly go with whatever way she wanted to give herself to him.

Every touch was gentle, relaxed, almost lazy, and so completely different from earlier in the evening. Even his breath remained steady, his heartbeat normal, and despite the pleasure of his wandering hand, Natasha wasn’t too quick to push this further. It was similar to the bath earlier, and she found herself enjoying the closeness without the expectation of more. No other man had ever touched her like this, not without quickly pushing for more, though more accurately she had never let them. More often than not it had been her pushing for hard and fast release, unwilling to let emotions get in the way. She never wanted to go back to that.

“Mmm, keep this up and I may never let you up again,” she muttered against his mouth, nipping gently at his bottom lip.

"That's kind of the plan. At least for tonight."

Her voice, colored rough with just the faintest hint of excitement, tickled that one spot below his spine, a warm pulse spreading and making his back arch up into her body.

Still he didn't really move, just let the muscles pressed into her most sensitive spot contract and release in an unsteady rhythm. His fingertips drew feather light circles over her thighs and the sensitive skin in between, never lingering too long in one place.

He let her gladly attack his lips with her teeth, pulling away just enough, so she had to bite down harder to keep him close. While he chuckled, gladly relaxing into the lightening mood, his fingertips found that one tender spot right below her ear, gently stroking, wandering up and down the line of her slightly faster going pulse.

When he arched into her Natasha’s body answered, rubbing against him and unable to stifle a quiet moan. The things he did to her, even when he wasn’t really trying.

“You are such a tease,” she said, opening her eyes to glare at him, though it didn’t have much of an effect when she couldn’t stop smiling. Of course she knew she could just as easily get his motor revving again, but he seemed so relaxed finally, so content, that she didn’t want to push. She knew how strained he’d been earlier, giving her all the pleasure while ignoring his own needs, and if he wanted to play her body now at a lazy pace she certainly wasn’t going to argue.

Still, she couldn’t keep her pulse from quickening, nor her breath from catching when he simply tensed his muscles against her, the creative bastard. Biting his lip just a little harder, she gave it a rest and ducked her head to kiss his neck, his collarbone, the hollow of his throat.

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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