study_in_scarlet | Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

The urge to sit up and just ride him into the mattress was growing, to just completely dominate him, but that wasn’t what she really wanted this time so she pushed it down. She wanted to keep the closeness, didn’t want to lose the feel of his body against hers. Pressing herself against his chest, the pressure against her hard nipples made her moan again. Really, it didn’t take much at this point.

She ground harder against him, the answering clench of his muscles against her leaving her panting. She answered the call of her name with his, her voice more of a whimper than anything. Her breathing grew even shorter the closer she got to her climax, and she contracted her muscles around him, keeping them tight while she rotated and ground her hips, his name becoming a mantra on her lips.

"Damn... Killing me again, red."

Clint hissed out a chuckle when he felt his hormones react much faster to Natasha's skilled movements than usual. Morning workouts never brought most effective results for him. That was okay. This wasn't about records. And hearing these sweet, whimpering noises from her, feeling her clench down on him uncontrollably, he was pretty sure, she was just as close as he was.

He kept on caressing and working her flesh between his fingers while his other hand slid to her waist, pressing her down on him just where she would need it most. He answered to her circling hips with quick, hard thrusts, trying to press against her most sensitive point with every movement as the urge finally took over. Soon enough he could just give in, throwing his head back with a silent cry when he felt his height building deep in his loins.

Natasha laughed against him and pressed another soft kissed to his chest. “Not doing too bad yourself, hotshot,” she replied in a deep, breathy tone that betrayed her own excitement, catching his nipple between her teeth again for another gentle bite. She wasn’t normally so quick to get this aroused, but the whole intimacy of the situation brought in a whole different level she hadn’t been prepared for but was glad to accept.

With every thrust she made a small noise of pleasure at the friction, Clint’s hand holding her flush against him right where she needed it. Her cries became longer and more frequent as the pace increased until he hit it just right and sent her toppling over.

It was that little bite that set him completely loose in the end, promising so much more and at the same time just right for this one moment, these minutes of gentle intimacy. A warm, deep shiver spreading all the way down to where pressed against her. Uncontrollably now, the need taking over and guiding his movements until he cried out quietly against her neck as his orgasm washed over him. Still he was holding her tightly against him and working with her quick rocking motions until he could feel her coming down from her own climax.

When his head fell back on the pillow, he knew, he had an absolute silly grin on his face but couldn't help it. It just felt so much better than all these depressive conversation from before, and he didn't miss press a soft, thankful kiss to Natasha's shoulder before he tried to catch his breath.

For a long moment she shuddered and trembled against him, her breathing short and quick as she slowly came back down from her pleasurable high. Placing a few sloppy kisses against his skin, she pillowed her head on his chest and tried to catch her breath, a smile curving her lips when Clint kissed her shoulder.

She didn’t try to speak; what could she say right now? She felt raw and completely exposed, but that wasn’t the scary part; the frightening part was that she didn’t care, that she might even actually enjoy it. Burying her face in his chest she breathed in his scent; he smelled of love and safety and home.

She was close enough to feel her shudder, just the slightest bit. Clint's arms immediately tightened around her, cheek nuzzling the top of her head, to remind her it was okay, that he felt the same and that it was okay. That here, in their small little protected world they could weak and vulnerable. Because they never were.

"I'm here, red. I've got you."

It was the same she had told him earlier and though for her now it might not be a nightmare but just the opposite, he knew that was something she couldn't hear often enough. He had always had her back, from the moment he had shot an arrow through her shoulder.

Natasha melted into the embrace, her breath stuttering at his words. She knew they were true, had known for years, but he was right: there were some things that couldn’t be said enough, and now the words held even more meaning than they used to. He didn’t just have her back, he had her heart, and she knew he would protect both with his every breath.

Moving her hands to his chest she shifted up his body, feeling him slowly slide out of her, until she could press her lips to his in a gentle, grateful kiss.

The loss of friction left him shivering slightly, but she was there, her lips, before he had even taken the next breath, and he gladly submitted, just a feather light touch of skin and his tongue playfully tickling her lower lip.

By now daylight had begun to settle in and he wasn't unhappy about it at all. It was kind of a relief to open his eyes and see her, see the room better again, not fear for the next bad dream kicking in soon. With a deep sigh, he rested his chin on her shoulder, trying to bring order back in that mess his hand had made of her hair, without much success.

"I'll try to not make every night that bad, promise", he mumbled, sighing again. "Can I make it up with making breakfast while you catch up with some sleep?"

After the kiss Natasha settled back against his chest again, tucking her face in against his neck. She let out something akin to a giggle when she felt him trying to smooth down the mess her hair had become, or as close to a giggle as she ever got. About the only thing that was going to get her hair back into any kind of order at this point was a good helping of conditioner. It could wait.

“It’s okay. It ended good,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his skin. At the mention of food her stomach rumbled; she had definitely worked up an appetite since the restaurant last night, and the few crackers in between had done little to carry her over. “You mean I have to let you up already?” She snuggled a little closer, soaking up the warmth and comfort of his embrace just a little longer.

"When your stomach gets too loud to talk, I'll just have to leave for a few minutes."

Clint grinned at that little sound she had just made but kept it for himself that it sounded absolutely adorable. Natasha was in a too good position to do damage to some vital parts to risk that.

Instead he leaned down to teasingly bite the site of her neck, nudging aside the mess of red curls with his chin.

"I like it when you're like that", he murmured. "A little disheveled and all... It makes things normal."

Perhaps she was in a good position to do damage, but she happened to like his ‘vital parts’ very much and enjoyed making good use of them. It would be a shame to damage them.

She gave a little flinch at the bite, but not in a bad way; it was more like how someone would react from a sudden tickle. She followed this up with a little dig in his side with her knee. He could probably feel her smile against his skin.

The words caught her off guard, though. No, not words, plural. One word: normal. Normal was something she had never been. ‘Normal’ was not acceptable, not enough. She had been exceptional, extraordinary; always calm, cool and collected. She wasn’t normal... but maybe she would like to be. Laying in on Saturday morning, actually snuggling in bed... the whole thing suddenly struck Natasha as funny and she let out a laugh. “The illusion is broken. You will never see me the same again,” she said, raising her head to meet his eyes, just the hint of a crooked smile on her lips.

Though he returned the smile, his voice stayed serious, still a little hoarse but with the most gentle tone possible. A careful dance on this line of too emotional that they both stayed away from most of the time.
After last night Clint was too exhausted still on his mind to keep up all of the usual barriers.

"I've never wanted an illusion, you know. I love you for who you are, Tash'."

He held her face softly in his palm as he spoke, fingertips brushing her cheek, her lips, to let her know, she didn't need to say anything if she didn't want it.

A small crease appeared between Natasha’s brow. Of course she knew, had known for sometime, but it was one thing to know and another to have it confirmed. Clint was the only person that had ever felt that way about her. Sure, men had loved her in the past, but even Alexei hadn’t known who she truly was; how could he when she hadn’t known herself?

Clint had changed all that. He had helped her find herself, helped her discover who she was beneath all the layers of programming and conditioning. He had seen past all of her masks, knew her down to her very soul, and while she felt he often times put her on a pedestal, he had the best chance of anyone to truly understand her and what made her tick.

She knew she didn’t need to say anything back, that he didn’t expect it of her, so she pressed her lips softly to his, barely breaking the contact when she did reply. “I love you too,” she whispered. It felt like one of those moments that it needed to be said, something she thought would take some getting used to.

Three times in probably less than twelve hours she had said those words, words that a year ago she didn’t think she would ever say again. So much for not saying it too often, though she did still stick by that sentiment.

She looked troubled in her thoughts, still the slightest bit tense in his arms, so he just held her for a few minutes, gentle, not half as tight as before, his lips softly kept to her forehead, close enough so she could feel his smile. For the moment they had said all they needed to hear.

There was still that quiet rumbling in Natasha's stomach, though, and his own answered until it really couldn't be ignored anymore.

"How do chocolate pancakes sound for you?"

For a long while, it seemed, they just lay quietly in each other’s arms, relishing in the warmth and the comfort and the truth they found there. Natasha had never really been one to stay like this before, but she thought she could get used to this really easily. If this was what she had to look forward to on their vacation together then she was definitely looking forward to it.

“Chocolate pancakes?” she repeated, raising her head to look at him again. She had expected toast, maybe bacon and eggs at the most, so this was a pleasant surprise. “They sound like they just might be worth moving for.”

"Knew there was a way to bribe you."

Clint made a half hearted attempt to wriggle his way out of her, still not quite ready to move yet. Some carbs were probably a good idea, though. And since Natasha and him both had a sweet tooth occasionally, a few minutes in the kitchen were no big deal.

"Wanna try get a little more sleep?"

With his arms softly around her, he turned to his side to rest her back against the mattress, not without stealing another quick kiss.

Natasha laughed and pressed her hands to Clint’s chest when he wriggled, clearly not trying very hard to get away.

“I’m okay,” she said, and it was true: she could go the rest of the day without another wink if she wanted to. Not that the thought wasn’t appealing since she had stayed awake half the night trying to ward off Clint’s nightmares, but she certainly didn’t want him to feel guilty for that. She had done it because she had wanted to.

He handled her gently as he rolled them over, but she had another idea. Wrapping her leg around his hip and her arm around his back, Natasha rolled onto her back, pulling Clint with to lay on top of her. Giving him one more fierce kiss, she let her legs fall back to the bed and grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim morning light. “Now get in the kitchen,” she said, giving his ass a sharp slap before flopping back to lay bonelessly on the mattress beneath him.

It was always nice when Natasha caught him off guard. It was a sign for how much he lowered his awareness and defense instincts when they were alone and it never failed to make Clint laugh. That she still was wearing considerably little clothes was a nice bonus.

Before the thought could really get into his head, he quickly shoved himself off her, tempted to give her ass a nice little pinch in return for her attack. But he didn't feel in a real sparring mood today, no matter the small level.

Instead he made sure to keep his voice a little on the rough, smug side to tease her back, maybe give her a few warm thoughts to get lost in while he was away.

"Yes, ma'am."

He made sure to bend down deliberately slow when he put on his pants and left the room with an innocent little whistle on his lips.

Smiling at his laughter, it was only with great reluctance that she didn’t try to keep him with her a moment longer. One more moment was never enough. The timbre of his voice sent a shiver through her, and lifting her head to watch him, it certainly didn’t escape her notice that he was putting on a show for her while he got dressed. Only once he was out of view did she flop back onto the mattress, a smile on her lips as she let her breath out in a loud puff.

Pulling the blanket up over her chest, Natasha rolled over and snuggled into the bed, her hand snaking over to the warm spot on the other side that they had just vacated. She was having a hard time truly identifying what she was feeling right now. Her muscles were a little sore, but not in an unpleasant way; her stomach felt strange (could that be the ‘butterflies’ thing that silly children spoke about). One thing she could identify: she was happy.

She had been joking before when she had shooed Clint off to the kitchen, and had every intention to join him and help where she could. The last thing she had actually meant to do was sleep, but curled up in his warm bed, the scent of him surrounding her, she closed her eyes for only a moment but it was enough and she drifted off to sleep.

The living room was considerably warmer than yesterday after the generator had gone back to work, so Clint didn't bother with his shirt but headed for the kitchen right away, ignoring the mess that was the sofa and everything else for the moment. Right now he just wanted to spend a few more minutes of leisure time with Natasha under the covers before they thought about how to spend the day.

He made sure to add an extra share of chocolate in her pancakes once they were done and balanced their plates back to the bedroom on a big tray that they could share.

He couldn't help but laugh quietly when he opened the door and saw her curled up peacefully in the tangled covers. Strangely enough, not even the sound of the coffee machine seemed to have done the trick. If Natasha actually needed more time getting awake than him, he obviously had worn her out since yesterday.
That other thought, the shadow of guilt about keeping her awake with not so pleasurable things, he shoved aside for the moment. The next crisis would probably come up soon enough.

"Room service, Ma'am."

Her sleep was deep and blissfully dreamless, something that almost never happened. There was normally a part of her that was still on the alert, that would wake to any unusual sound, but there was something that had changed with all their honesty and confessions, something that left her feeling completely safe and able to sleep deeper than she had in a very long time.

She didn’t wake until she heard the door open, and Clint’s laughter caused a slow smile to spread across her lips. Only when he spoke, though, did she finally stretch and open her eyes.

“Mmm, breakfast in bed?” she murmured, holding her arms high above her head a moment before rolling over onto her back and pushing herself up to sit, ignoring the covers as they fell away. “I might just have to keep you.”

"Really? That's all it takes? Then you better come up with a list what you want to have for breakfast from now on."

Clint made it a show to place the small table carefully over her legs, going down on his knees in the process, with a playful twitch of his eyebrow as he looked up at her, grinning. If she wanted to play... Two could do that.

"Coffee, ma'am?"

Her expression while she watched him was one of pure happiness and affection. After last night it was so nice to see him so playful and seemingly carefree that she didn’t even try to put on a mask.

“Do you do only breakfasts?” she queried with a raised brow. Propping her pillow up behind her, Natasha scooted back a bit so she could lean against the headboard. She supposed she should probably put on a shirt, but all that was in the immediate vicinity was Clint’s sweater from last night, and with the heater running again it was far too warm for that.

“If you please, good sir,” she said, putting on airs, but it didn’t last long. “I did actually mean to help,” she admitted.

"It's no trouble, Nat. I'm glad you got a little more rest."

He leaned over for a short kiss onto her forehead and quickly went back to the kitchen for cups and the coffee that had just finished running through.

"And no..."

He sat down on the other side of the table, careful to not move the mattress too much and knock something over. Pouring them both a first cup to get at least half awake, he watched her with a half amused, half eager look in his eyes. Playing domestic at least for a little while actually sounded like fun, and that didn't even include one or the other naughty little game yet.

"I'm also perfectly trained in making diner, doing repairs and bringing down the trash. Might just want to try it out. You can always give it back if it doesn't suffice."

Of course he didn’t mind; Clint would probably wait on her hand and foot if she ever asked, not that Natasha ever would. Still, his need to please her and make her happy was sometimes staggering.

“It was probably easier without me in the way anyhow,” she said, smiling as he kissed her and scurried back out again. The way this weekend was going they probably would have only gotten distracted and burned the first batch.

Leaning over the tray of food, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, inhaling the delectable smell of the pancakes. He really was spoiling her, and she couldn’t find it in herself this morning to complain.

“Quite the handyman,” she said when he returned. Accepting a cup of coffee, she took a sip before setting it down and taking up a fork instead. Cutting off a small bite she slid it slowly off the fork and chewed thoughtfully a moment. It was tempting to play it off as not liking it, but she just didn’t have the heart to even tease him about that, not even for a moment. Instead she made a small sound of enjoyment and smiled at him. “I will definitely have to keep you.”

Dancing in the Dark (for farmboyhawk)

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