A/N: Tony and Natasha are just too sexy together to pass up, but then again I don't think that they'd actually work as a couple. Besides Natasha belongs to Clint obviously and Tony to Pepper. So this is a bit of everything mixed in one.
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, I don't make money with this
"How long until he bolts?" Clint asked, his tone vaguely amused when he looked at Steve and Tony on the dance floor.
To be honest Natasha was amazed that the Captain hadn't fled already – but then again Tony hadn't let go of him the whole night, and Steve just didn't have it in him to simply break away and tell the billionaire to fuck the hell off.
One of them could have easily gave gone down there and told Tony to stop it, but it was just too much fun watching Steve squirm in Tony's grip to break them apart. The two men had provided hers and Clint's amusement for the better part of the night and Natasha enjoyed watching them simply too much to think about keeping the playboy in check. Steve was twice the size of Tony after all, if he couldn't get out of that situation himself it was his fault and his fault alone.
She'd been surprised that he had let himself be dragged along anyway. Usually when Tony proposed going clubbing Steve was the second to decline, right after Bruce who was always fast to remind them that a too small room with too many people too close to each other was a way too stressful environment for him. In reality Natasha doubted the sincerity of that statement – as did Tony, who had actually managed to get him to promise that he would join them the next time – but it wasn't her business to force/blackmail the doctor into doing something he clearly didn't want. That one time had been enough, really.
The reason for Steve's change of mind had probably been the fact that Thor was back to Asgard for the time being and that he didn't want to sit alone in the tower for the rest of the evening while Bruce did research in the lab that went over all their heads save for Tony. They all had become far too accustomed to not being alone in the last few months.
So now they were here in this club, trying to let go of their jobs for once without being recognized – what never worked if you had Tony in tow, he was just too notorious a playboy to go unnoticed. The only good thing about it was that neither she nor Clint had ever been busted. There wasn't much known about Black Widow and Hawkeye in public and that resulted in relative animosity when they went out.
A new song came on and the beat changed, switching to something a little slower with an underlying bass that reminded Natasha of a heartbeat.
As usual the club they were in was exquisite. No getting in without knowing the right people, an interior that was classy enough to not look cheap, and alcohol that actually tasted like it was supposed to taste. It was obviously a place for the famous and rich to spend their nights in, and the mass of handsome men and slim blond women with deep cleavages and short skirts moving in time to the beat of the music held a sensuality that wasn't lost on her.
In the middle of it all Tony was trying to coax Steve into dancing with his usual persistence. The big man was reluctant as always and bright red from having the billionaire too close for his liking, Tony's hands on his hips and barely a hand's breath separating their bodies. They were arguing again, but it was too dark for Natasha to read their lips.
She let out a faint sigh before downing the last of her vodka and getting up without looking back to see Clint's reaction.
The dance floor was crowded, but the Black Widow had learnt to slide through masses of people long ago. It wasn't hard for her to move by the dancers without disturbance, save for a stray hand on her ass she didn't pay any mind to – she was a good-looking women in a sea that was half horny males, she hadn't expected anything else.
In passing she grabbed the hand of a pretty blond about her size that had snapped at her partner for letting his hand travel under the hem of her jeans three times in the last twenty minutes. The woman looked at her in surprise but didn't resist when Natasha indicated to the middle of the crowd and dragged her along. Her associate made a move to follow them but stopped where he was when she sent him a glare.
Both Tony and Steve turned around to look at her when she softly placed a hand on their sides, one looking relieved, the other giving her his best sly grin.
She turned to the blond and nodded towards Steve, mouthing "Slow." before nodding again. The women didn't say anything in return, just grabbed the Captain's hand and gave her a wink before she slowly but firmly pulled the big man away from them and to the edge of the dance floor.
Never missing a beat Tony's hands were on her hips immediately.
His eyes danced with mischief when he started to move them, but Natasha could see the suppressed frustration in his gaze anyway. It was her job to see what no one else saw, after all.
Tony Stark was a playboy and he damn well loved being one. Standing in the middle of a crowd of beautiful women – and men – that wanted to touch him and that he wanted to touch but couldn't set him on edge. Annoying and embarrassing Steve had just been his way to distract himself, but she'd very well seen that it worked less and less the further the night progressed.
That was the price they all had to pay to stay alive: hiding who they really were.
Natasha could feel the arc reactor under his black shirt when she slid her hands up his torso. The only thing that stood between him and death. Tony shuddered slightly under her touch.
One of his hands slipped down to cup her ass, drawing their bodies closer together. They were moving with the beat of the music now, grinding closer and coming apart a little to press together again. It was an effortless rhythm, picked up by their bodies without neither of them having to think about what they were doing.
She leaned closer, stretching to get near his ear with her lips, her breasts pressing into his chest, "You seemed bored."
His laugh vibrated through both their bodies and a lewd grin appeared on the billionaires lips, "So you came all the way here to keep me occupied… let me make it up to you, then."
Natasha let herself be turned around in his arms until her back was pressed into his chest, her hands on his hips and his free to roam her body as much as he wanted to. It all happened in a matter of seconds without even one awkward movement or bumping into other people, and a part of the master spy allowed herself to marvel at the ease with which Tony Stark handled women – she was like an instrument in his hands and he knew exactly which strings to pull.
Letting her head sink back against his shoulders she closed her eyes and allowed the man to do as he pleased. The threat of knowing that he'd lose is hands or other parts if he tried to do anything really inappropriate was enough to keep Tony in check.
But still, he was good.
She'd known of course. Natasha had worked long enough for Tony Stark to know that he had honed his seduction skills to the point where women were practically melting under his gaze. That however had never included her. She was a mast spy, she knew the game. There was no way a playboy like him could actually have any effect on her… or at least that had been what she'd thought.
Fingers ran down her side slowly, barely brushing against the material of her shirt before they settled on her belly, leisurely rubbing in circles but never making a motion to actually get beneath her clothing. His other hand was in her hair, playing with the red curls, nails occasionally scratching her scalp. Their bodies were still grinding together with every beat, her fingers buried tightly in hips and his cock rubbing against her ass every time they pressed close again.
Opening her eyes Natasha looked up to Tony's face. He wasn't looking at her, eyes half closed and staring into nothingness while a pleased smile played on his lips.
She came to the conclusion that the billionaire was actually a rather attractive specimen of man – as long as he kept his mouth shut, of course …that was what she liked least about the man actually, the way he always had to crack jokes and generally annoyed the hell out of everyone else. His looks: pretty good. His hands: yes. His character: not so much.
Both his hands were back on her hips again and their dancing had slowed down in sync with the beat, the motion more rubbing than grinding now.
Tony blinked once and then his mouth came down to her neck, his lips not daring to touch her but coming close enough for her to feel his hot breath ghosting over her skin – the sensation sent a shiver of arousal down her spin that he must have noticed but chose to not comment on.
"We have an audience." the words were whispered just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the music.
Her eyes snapped wide open and Natasha let her eyes wander over the crowd. The majority of the people around them was indeed looking at them in various stages of arousal, but she didn't bother with them. Tony wouldn't have disturbed her just because of them…
A low, barely audible moan escaped her lips when her eyes met scorching grey ones. Fuck.
"So you two are doing it. I knew it." she didn't need to look at him to know the sly grin that had spread on Tony's lips.
"We aren't." her words were cool, professional, but ruined by her bodies obvious reaction to Clint's gaze on her.
They really didn't have sex. Not after that one time… blood everywhere, so much blood, adrenaline rushing through both of them, their bodies way too close, his damn grey eyes boring into hers, his hands in her hair, clothes being torn apart… Budapest.
"I'm the one dry humping you to barely any reaction but he just looks at you and you have that fuck me look all over your face. I should be offended, really."
Without waiting for an answer he took a step back and away from her – Natasha missed the warm, hard, male body in her back immediately, Clint's gaze still holding hers.
"What do you think you are doing, Stark?" she turned her head towards him and there was just a tad of aggressiveness in her voice.
She didn't want to let Tony go. He was there, he was willing, he could get her off. He was easy. With Clint everything was complicated, emotional… she was vulnerable around him, unlike Tony he could actually hurt her. And that prospect frightened her more than she'd ever admit out loud.
"Taking one for the team, darling." he nodded towards Clint but was smart enough to not take his eyes off her, "… because if I were Clint and you were Pepper the other guy would be dead by now."
A vicious reply was already on the tip of her tongue but she gulped it down when Tony gave her a pointed look, mock-saluted to Clint and vanished into the crowd without bothering to do anything about the obvious tent in his pants.
Their eyes met once again over the heads of all the other people. His gaze was still smoldering and while she couldn't exactly place the emotion behind it Natasha could see the intensity in his eyes as clear as he had to see the arousal in hers. He didn't move, he didn't motion her to come up and join him, he just stared at her – and she stared back like a deer in the headlights.
She was Natasha Romanoff. But she was also the Black Widow. And Clint Barton had the potential to unravel both.
With just one look he could take her apart, could get past her every defense and make her the weak, quivering mess of a woman she'd sworn to never be.
He was her partner, but he was also her greatest enemy.
The Widow held Clint's gaze for a few more seconds before turning around and heading for the bar and a bottle of the best vodka she could get her hands on.
Love is for children.
I honestly didn't plan the ending that way, Natasha just had a will of her own.
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