Love and lies (One-shot Wednesday)

by abstract0118

Natasha has always lied about her feelings for Clint, wanting to be closer with him after five years into their partnership, not that she told him that. Years later, the New York battle happens. What will happen before and after Coulson's funeral that will change it all? Clintasha! All characters are owned by MARVEL. Set in Avengers Tower. M rated for swearing. ONE-SHOT WEDNESDAY.

This is a Clintasha one-shot that I am doing for AmyHamato that I promised I would do for my one-shot Wednesday this week. Technically it is quarter to twelve in France, even though I live in England, but I'll take the France time and say it's still Wednesday. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and if you want me to write you a one-shot then just send me a PM. Thank you :)

It was a week after the battle of New York. The streets were being re-built, the dust being slowly swept away into the atmosphere as the people of Manhattan helped to clean the streets and restore the area to it's former glory. Though I knew it wouldn't be the place it was a week ago. The place may have eventually been tidied, but the people would always remember what the saw - the chitauri, the battle and the death. Innocents murdered around. 74 to be precise. The rubble had been cleared and the deaths counted. Thousands were injured also. Phil Coulson was one of those. Mine and Clint's 'father'. The man was decent, a good handler and a supportive friend. I told myself that he didn't mean anything to me, that I didn't care about him, but it was a lie. Not that I told Clint. I would continue to show that I didn't care as much as I did. Like always.

"Nat?" someone called from behind me and I turned round, recognising that the person wasn't a threat, just by their voice. I ignored the fluttering heart in my chest that his voice caused to beat faster. I had been looking out over New York, some of the buildings still damaged from the attack. I immediately locked onto his relaxed blue eyes, the cool colour of them easing the tension in my body as usual. There aren't many people in life that you meet and feel that you can trust them completely. I knew that Clint was one of these people after being his partner for the past ten years. I couldn't tell when he started to gain my trust, but it had happened quickly. I found myself hugging him more than I usually did. The only times I had let him hold me was after a nightmare. I still remember the first time I did it.

"Hey Nat, can you come in here for a minute, please?" Clint called from the living room. I placed the gun that I was cleaning onto the marble table in the pile of polished guns. It was a ritual that I went through every day. Dirty weapons stay dirty and end up breaking. Clint always avoided cleaning his guns, the only weapon that he did clean being his bow.

"Hang on." I replied and walked over to the living room entrance, staying in the doorway. "What is it?"

Clint was casually leaning against the back of my sofa, but he had a small smirk playing on his lips. I knew better than to say that it was natural. "What are you up to?" I asked, looking around the room suspiciously as I took a few, slow steps towards him. I couldn't see anything out of place.

"Nothing..." he replied, faking innocence. I rolled my eyes at his childish behaviour and was about to turn around to go back into my room, until he spoke up. "I have something for you." I stopped in my place immediately, eyeing him with caution.

"A gift?" I asked and he nodded, his smile becoming less mischievous and more sincere.

"So you know I'm going on that mission for two months tomorrow..." He didn't need to phrase it as a question. I checked his schedule everyday or he would just tell me. It became a habit of mine to do so, because I wanted to know whether he would be around. It gave me a comfort somehow, but I didn't understand it. I had tried to put the thought of him going away for two months to the back of my mind, but I didn't tell him that, simply nodding in response to his question, or statement as I would call it. "Well, I thought I'd getcha something."

"That's..." Inappropriate? Unacceptable? Wrong? "very thoughtful of you, Clint." Me and Clint didn't do gifts apart from birthday and Christmas, so I got a little worried when he said that he bought me a present. Was he in more danger than I realised?

"I'll need you to close your eyes." he said, the sinister smirk back on his face and I dramatically huffed.

"Really?" I threw a hand on my hip and pushed it out.

"God, you are so drama queen. I promise I won't do anything stupid. I think you should trust enough to know that I'm not going to kill you." he said and pushed himself off the couch, our bodies mere inches from each other. "Trust me." he whispered, his eyes gazing into my own. Surprisingly, it wasn't uncomfortable. We had become quite good friends after all the years of working together and that was all we were...friends. "Shut your eyes." There was something in his voice that caused a shiver to run down my spine. I never usually reacted like it to Clint, but, peculiarly, it wasn't uncomfortable. I obeyed him and shut my eyes, hoping that he didn't notice the way that his voice affected me, though I cursed myself knowing that he would, because he was a spy with an excellent eye.

I heard him shuffle away and I had to really concentrate on not opening my eyes, forcing myself to be patient. I could hear him very clearly, my hearing having been improved by the Red Room, and he hadn't moved very much from where I was situated. Where was he hiding the gift? "I need to move your hair out the way." he said, surprising me when I heard him speak from behind me. I kept my eyes shut, squeezing them tightly when I felt his hot breath on my neck. I nodded and felt his callused fingers brush the hairs away from my neck, my skin burning from the careful touch he always had. I felt a shadow pass over the front of my face, but still didn't look. I wanted it to be a surprise. I heard a clasp click into place and he pulled the hair out that was caught under the chain, a necklace now being my best guess at what he had bought me. He rested his hands on my shoulders and I sucked in a quiet breath, trying to get the good feeling of him touching me out of my head as he nudged me forward. We stopped and I turned my head to look in his direction, my ears picking up where he was breathing from.

"Can I open my eyes?"

"You may, Miss Romanoff." I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the full length mirror, my eyes immediately locking onto the necklace that Clint had put on me. I edged closer to the mirror to get a real glimpse at what he had given me. I felt my bottom lip detach from the top and my eyes didn't look away from the jewellry piece, even when Clint started to speak.

"I made it myself from real silver. I thought it would be something that you could remember me by while I'm gone..." I tried to keep tears in my eyes as I stared at it in the mirror, my hand reaching up to trace my fingers over it. The silver arrow charm was smooth and I felt my heart throb in my chest. "If you don't like it-" I quickly snapped out of my gazing state and turned immediately to the archer standing next to me, practically throwing my arms around his neck to stop him from finishing the sentence. I didn't know what caused me to show the affection, but it felt good. The way his hands delicately placed themselves on my hips, like a shy school boy would at a dance, felt so gentle and peaceful that I almost felt like falling asleep on his shoulder. One of my hands was in his hair, delicately and slowly weaving itself through his smooth blonde locks, and the other was wrapped around the top of his back. His hands slowly slid around my back and enveloped me in a tighter hug, one that caused me to shut my eyes and bury my face in Clint's shoulder.

"I love it, Clint." I don't think I ever told Clint that I loved anything before that. When I pulled back, I saw a genuine smile, one that I hadn't seen before and I couldn't place what he was trying to tell me with the expression. It confused me.

"Your not just saying that to make me happy?" he asked and I shook my head, my hand subconsciously going up to my neck.

"It's perfect. If I can, I'll wear it every day." I said, no joke in the promise that I made him. He smiled and I noticed his hand reach forward a small, almost unnoticeable, amount that meant he probably wanted to touch me again, perhaps reach out for my hand. But he pulled it back so quickly that I hardly noticed. Hardly. Clint was the only person in the world that I allowed to touch me and it was then that I thought in my head whether that meant something or not. I decided to file it under 'Things to think about later'.

After that day, I hugged him more and more, even if it was so much as offering to do the shopping. We shared an apartment at the Avengers Tower, separate rooms obviously, but we had a joint kitchen and preferred to go out and restock it ourselves rather than order in, wearing a disguise every time that we did leave. I wore the necklace most days unless we were going out as a group - I think he understood that I didn't want people getting the wrong idea. Fortunately, it never broke, but I always did take care with it, hoping that I would never damage it. It meant a lot to me and I think it meant a lot to Clint that I wore it.

The man in question was wearing a black suit with a white shirt hiding underneath it, a small smile on his face, but I could see how sad he was. His eyes flitted over my outfit before returning to my face. "You look beautiful." he said, his smile growing a tad more and admiration in his eyes. He stood there staring at me for a moment more before clearing his throat. "You ready?"

I nodded and walked towards him, picking up my black purse to accompany my dress on the way out. I had gone with a classy black dress that had sleeves down to my elbows. It reached my lower thigh and clung to my hips like a second skin, though most of my dresses did that anyway no matter how tight they were meant to be. He held out his arm for me and I looped it in his, letting him guide me towards the elevator. I went with black flats, deciding against heels because I wanted to avoid tripping over. It made me feel really small next to Clint, even though he was only a little taller than me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, turning his head to look at me. I looked up into those baby blue eyes and stopped myself from sighing at the beautiful colour.

"Yeah." I whispered, my voice betrayed my emotions as it cracked slightly. I didn't turn my head, just place my head against his shoulder and shut my eyes.

"We'll get through this." he said and delicately placed a kiss on my head. I smiled at the touch of his lips against my hair, knowing that the man standing next to me would never hurt me and always protect me. I gripped his arm tighter as we rode down to the bottom floor, separating when the elevator doors opened. The others were there, standing all in black with solemn looks spread across their faces. They smiled at us, but I didn't want to deal with their sympathy, so I smiled politely back and got in the car that me and Clint were being driven in. I over heard him talking with some of the other Avengers before slipping in the car beside me, weaving his arm round my waist once he was strapped in next to me.

"Have you got your speech?" I asked and he nodded, biting his bottom lip tentatively. "What's wrong?" I recognised the anxious signs immediately - Clint always bit his lip when he was worried about something.

"Nat..." he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I don't think I'll be able to get through it."

I looked up at him, his jaw clenched and teeth almost tearing the bottom lip in half. I reached my hand up and placed it on his cheek, using my thumb to tease his lips away from his teeth. I started stroking his cheek as I looked up to his eyes, trying to hold back the tears. His eyes were darting around around my face, analysing what I was doing. I knew it was very intimate of me to do it, but I needed him to know that everything was okay and that he would be fine. "Coulson would've wanted you to be strong for him."

He let out a shaky breath and I drew him into a hug that was surprisingly comfortable with the seat-belt across me. My arms wrapped around his neck and his drew around my waist, like they usually did when we hugged, pressing me closed to him. He buried his head in the crook of my neck and I felt my eyes flutter shut at his breath tickling the skin of my neck. I pulled away, only slightly, so that our cheeks were pressed against each other and I could whisper in his ear. "I know you can be strong." He nuzzled his cheek against mine and I kept my eyes shut, not wanting the close, intimate moment to leave us. I loved him, more than anything, I just never admitted it.

I kept my arms around his neck as I pulled back, a couple of inches from his face. Just say it. Say it. I wanted to tell him that I loved him, to admit everything that I had felt over these past few years about him, the growing affection and need to have him close to me all the time. But I could find the words. Slowly, and shakily, I leant forward, Clint staying completely still, eyes locked with mine. I placed my right hand on his cheek and shut my eyes, not thinking about the decision I was making. I pressed a small, gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, my lips lingering there for a second. Knowing that it wasn't the right time to kiss him properly, I slowly pulled away and brought my hands back to my sides, resting my head against Clint's shoulder as his arms tightened on my waist. I didn't look at Clint's face for a reaction. I didn't want to see the confused and disgusted emotion on his face that I knew he would have. Kissing him before Coulson's funeral was inappropriate for a start, but I was his partner. It probably sickened him. However, he didn't say anything, continuing to hold me next to him in silence until we arrived.

Clint got out of the car first, offering me his hand when I shuffled over to get out. I hesitantly took it in mine and stepped out of the car, trying to avoid eye contact. I wish I didn't kiss him. Perhaps I could pretend it was an attempt at supporting him later when I knew we would be discussing it. Unfortunately, I did lock eyes with him, an unreadable look in his that made me uncomfortable. I could always tell what Clint was feeling. He held out his arm for me and I smiled sadly, looping my arm in his. "You think there's many people here?" he asked, as we approached the church that was currently hidden by a bush of flowers. The church was in the middle of nowhere and was invitation only, a certain amount of secrecy needing to be kept in the S.H.I.E.L.D ranks.

"I don't know. Depends how many Fury invited." I replied as we turned a corner, heading towards the opening gates.

"Do you remember the first time we played Monopoly with him?" Clint asked, obviously replaying memories in his head. I thought back to the game - we were sitting in my quarters, alcohol in hands and game faces on. Maria had joined us for a game, but she had to sneak in through the air vents to be avoid getting caught by Fury, though I'm sure he knew what she was up to. She was meant to be up early the next day for a meeting.

"It was almost a bloodbath. I thought you were going to punch Coulson when he asked you for a hotel on Mayfair." I said, chuckling to myself at the thought. Coulson had sat there, smug as hell, swirling his drink in his hand as Clint, the banker, handed (or should I say threw) Coulson a hotel for him to put on his Mayfair rectangle. Clint 'too good to lose' Barton was not very happy about the situation.

"I nearly did, the arrogant bastard." he laughed, trying to distract himself for a few moments with happy thoughts of our dead friend. "I thought Maria would at least have a strategy. She was Fury's assistant after all, so I thought she would at least be second to me, not come in last."

"I think after the death glare you gave Coulson, she let you win." I told him and he shoved my shoulder lightly, a smile on his face.

"You know that I got that second place fair and square." I shook my head at him, catching his eyes for a brief moment before looking back at the path.

"You're such a child sometimes." I muttered as we came to the gate. I saw his smile fall slightly as he laid his hand on the metal and pushed it open, the hinges creaking at the movement. He held the gate open for me and we approached the door, Fury at the front.

"I think you're the last ones." he said, raising an eyebrow. "As usual." he added with a small smirk and opened the door for us, a small amount of chatter coming from the church.

There were three rows at the very front that had the aisle between them. Clint joined some people at the back to carry the coffin as I took my place in the front pew next to Maria. The rows behind us were empty and I only assumed that they were also people carrying the coffin. On the other side of aisles were Coulson's family that I hadn't met before, too many missions getting in the way. The only person that did look familiar was a person called Audrey Nathan. Coulson had mentioned being in love with her and was planning on marrying her one day, but...Loki happened. And here we were.

Sad music began to play and I looked back, watching a coffin being brought forward by some people that I recognised. Clint, Steve, Tony, Thor, Bruce and Nick were carrying the coffin past all the people that were in the room. Some I recognised as agents. Others I didn't. They brought it all the way forward and gently placed it down the front before they took their seats. Clint sat next to me and held my hand, wanting to know that I was here and that I was still here. I squeezed his hand back and looked back at the others - Tony was sitting next to Bruce and in the row behind were Steve and Thor. My head made it's way towards the front again and I easily held myself together as the minister spoke some nonsense from the bible (A/N - these are Natasha's views, not mine) It was a bunch of made up bullshit. What kind of God creates a world where we have diseases and terrorists? What kind of God creates a world where HYDRA exists? What kind of God creates a world where Phil Coulson dies so young? I reassuringly stroked Clint's hand, knowing that he would have to speak soon.

"A eulogy will now be read by Clint Barton, close friend and colleague of Phil." The minister stepped down from their position and I slowly let go of Clint's hand as he stood. He made his way over to the stand and immediately look at me to comfort him. I smiled and nodded at him, hoping that he would have enough confidence to go though with it. He took a breathe, cleared his throat and began his speech.

"Phil Coulson was one of those people who everybody in the world should've known. He should've been recognised for his talents more, because he was a talented agent. But that's not what he was to me. He wasn't just a handler to me and Natasha..." he said, gazing over at me from his podium. I could already see the tears forming in his eyes, the reflection of the light shining in them. "He was...the father we never had." I could tell that he was trying to keep his emotions stable as he continued.

"Phil Coulson wasn't an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D to me...he was S.H.I.E.L.D. Phil Coulson will always...be S.H.I.E.L.D. He will always r-represent...what is good with the world, because h-he...made the world a...better place." He took in a quick breath as tears began to slide down his face, bring his hand up to wipe them away. "He..." Clint shut his eyes and hung his head as he tried to stop himself from crying to himself, but I knew that he wouldn't be able to continue.

I walked towards the podium and stepped up to it next to him, sliding my hand into his. I squeezed it softly and he brought his head up, a look of complete distress on his face that almost made me reach out and kiss the tears on his cheeks away. I had to forcefully stop myself from doing so, reminding myself that I was in front of a church full of people. "Do you want me to finish it?" I asked and, after a moment, he nodded slowly, handing over the letter that had thankfully been typed up - Clint's handwriting was horrendous. Clint still stood beside me, hand in mine, as I spoke to the church.

"If you don't know who I am, I'm Natasha Romanoff, the person that Clint was talking about." I informed them as I tried to find my place. I thought I might fill them in to give an explanation to who I was. "As he was saying, Phil made the world a better place." I read over the words, liquid seeping through some of the paper the tears Clint had dropped on it. "Not many people are fortunate enough to have a handler as a friend. He was more than a friend to us, more than a leader, he was a hero." My voice began to crack at the end of the sentence, emotion taking over me. I saw Hill's head dip as she cried into the tissues she had brought. I knew I should've brought tissues. I didn't expect myself to be so affected by his death. I was meant to be used to death, but it felt so painful.

"He proved his heroism in New York, in every mission and also in the office when he..." I saw the words ahead and I let out a small chuckle escape my lips, quickly saying what Clint wrote, so people didn't think I was going mad. "When he brought Clint his daily coffee to stop him going crazy." I heard everyone in the church quietly laugh and I took the chance to steal a look from Clint, his sad eyes lightening at the memory. Clint couldn't cope without his morning coffee. I went back to the letter.

"He was always kind, even going so far to buy Clint and me a puppy once." I said, changing the words accordingly. I smiled at that memory - we had been doing paperwork all day and Coulson came through the doors, keycard between his fingers, doughnuts under one arm and a puppy in the other. I thought he had gone mad, but I never knew how to repay him for something so beautiful. I remembered falling in love with the animal immediately, as did Clint. "We named him Lucky, because..." I stopped to swallow to rise of emotion building in my throat. "because we knew how lucky we were to have someone like Phil in our lives."

I gave up and let the waiting tears drop from my eyes onto the paper, burning my skin as it dragged down my cheek. I could feel Clint shaking beside me and squeezed his hand again to calm him. He seemed to and I continued. "We were all lucky to know Coulson, as an agent...as a friend...and as a father." I said, my voice betraying me as it became a whisper. Tears were flowing rapidly from my eyes, but I struggled through it. For Clint. "Remember him as whatever he was to everyone - a hero." I folded the letter and squeezed Clint's hand for one last time before returning to our seats with him.

Once the service was over, we didn't bother going to the wake. I knew that Clint wouldn't be able to survive without having a breakdown, which he did in the car on the way home. He covered the top of my dress in tears as I cradled him against my chest, my tears falling into his messy hair as we drove back to Stark Tower. We took the secret entrance, not wanting press to see us, and went immediately into the elevator.

"My apartment, JARVIS." I said allowed, my right arm slipped around Clint's waist as he stood. He was tired, exhausted from the toll on his emotions. I knew he needed to sleep, even if it was only six o'clock in the afternoon. I thought I would tell him about what Fury gave me. "I have a letter for us." I told him and he turned his head to look down at me. I felt really small compared to him. "It's from Coulson - Fury gave it to me."

"Can you read it?" he said, running a hand over his face. "I don't think I had the ability to read anything right now..." I nodded and opened it up, pulling the letter out in front of me. A pang of upset went through my chest at how depressed Clint looked. It was so sad to see him like that.

Clint stared at my neck and said "I noticed that you wore it out in public." I nodded, knowing immediately that he was talking about the arrow necklace around my neck. He probably noticed it from the moment he saw me, but didn't say anything.

"I wanted to be there for you." I said as the elevator door opened and I walked out into my apartment, carelessly chucked my bag on the side table as I joined Clint on the couch, letter in hand. I didn't bring up the conversation about the necklace that took place in the elevator.

"Dear Clint..." I said, reading out the letter to him. "There aren't many times that you die in life, so here we go. I'm not actually d..." I stopped myself, re-reading the words over and over again in my head. I looked up at Clint and he was staring at me confused.

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I checked back over the letter.

"Clint, he's not dead." I said, my eyes widening as I came to the realisation. I looked at Clint who was staring at me in confusion. "Phil's not dead."

"What?" he asked, grabbing the letter off me and reading the words. "I'm not actually dead. Don't be angry at me. Oh, fuck off, Coulson." he said, a laugh coming through with his words. I smiled at his suddenly happy state and hoped that Phil wasn't messing around with him for a comical reason. "You can arrange with Fury to meet with me, but it won't be for a few weeks. Enjoy the suspense. Coulson." His eyes scanned over something else and he smirked to himself, quickly folding up the letter and throwing it on the table, staring at me in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked him, relief flooding through me as I realised my friend, my 'father', wasn't dead. He was still alive. I quickly flung myself at Clint, wrapping my arms around his neck as we laughed happily together and were practically cheering. My legs were around his waist and I was kinda clinging to him, like a monkey really. "I can't believe this." I whispered, tightly wrapping Clint in my arms.

"Woah, Coulson isn't dead, but I might be if you don't loosen your grip." he joked and I loosened my arms, apologising immediately.

"God, sorry." That was when I realised what position we were in. My legs were around his warm body, the feeling sending tingles through my legs. My palms were flat against the back of his head, playing lightly with the strands of short, blonde hair. Our eyes were locked, breathing coming out in short pants. His eyes looked alive and electric, not dull and lifeless like they were two minutes ago. I felt my heart beat faster in my chest as I felt captivated my his bright, blue eyes, unable to escape the pleasurable trap he had set me in.

I suddenly broke eye contact with him, looking over at the letter that had been tossed on the table. I went to reach for it, but he grabbed my hands, worriedly looking at me. "W-what are you doing?"

I gestured my head over to the letter as I slipped my wrists out of his grip. "I'm looking at what was at the bottom of the letter." I said, leaning back over to reach for it, but before I could get it my arms were held in his tight, secure hands. I raised an eyebrow at him. "What did it say?"

"Nothing." he said, but I instantly didn't believe him.

"Come on, just let me-" I said, reaching over for it again, but Clint pulled me back, so roughly that I ended up with my back against the soft sofa, Clint's cheek pressed against the side of mine. I started laughing, but it was suddenly cut off by his warm, wet lips pressing against mine. I felt as if the kiss were meant to be an accident, the clumsiness of it seeming too much like a mistake, but I soon found that it wasn't. The kiss wasn't rough like I expected, but so gentle and loving that it warmed my heart a little. I felt myself pause as soon as his lips touched me. I never expected him to actually kissed me, so I wasn't prepared for it. I always wished that he would one day, but now the day had come and I found myself clueless. Thankfully, Clint was more than gentlemanly about it, pulling away within a second of pressing his lips against mine.

I desperately wanted them back against me, even if I didn't know what to do in response, and gasped when he detached them from mine. My eyes that had shut from the feeling slowly opened to see Clint's face, now looking panicked, staring down at me. "S...sorry." he said and immediately sat up to kneel, still situated between my legs. I tried to tear my eyes away and say that I would forgive him for kissing me, but that was what I wanted. It was what I always wanted. I needed him to kiss me for longer than a second. Coulson nearly died and he didn't get to be with the oh-so-famous cellist. I couldn't imagine being left like she was.

"Come 'ere." I whispered sexually, my mouth thankfully knowing what to do whilst my brain was practically exploding with worry. He looked at me curiously before coming back down again, resting his hands on either side of me so that there was still distance between us. "Closer." I whispered again, feeling a little bolder. He rested on his forearms, our faces barely inches apart. He was so close that I could feel his warm breaths brushing across my face. "You listen here Agent Barton..." I said, looking from his eyes to his lips, his slightly swollen lips that looked utterly desirable, I had to painfully force myself to look back to his eyes. His pupils were dilated, a large amount of want resting in them.

"I love you." That was it. I couldn't take that admission back. I stared at him looking for a reaction. His eyes didn't change, lust still stuck in them, but I saw tears filling them. Was this a bad thing? I didn't think more about it when his lips crashed against mine, a wave of arousal passing through me at the feeling. I almost felt embarrassed at how easy he could turn me on. His lips were soft and delicate against mine, moving in a way that was just the right amount of push and pull. I wrapped my arms around his neck to get closer and he took the hint, snaking his around my waist. Our bodies were pulled flush against each other, heating up by the second. He detached his lips for a moment, a whimper being drawn from my throat, but quickly turned into a moan as he re-applied his lips, pressing them up my neck and across my jaw, towards my ear.

"I love you too." he whispered before trailing his lips back to my lips, reclaiming them as his own, which I had absolutely no problem with. I tugged him tighter against me and he groaned into my mouth from the pleasure. After a few more seconds of kissing, we separated, audibly panting from our 'activities'. "Wow..." he whispered as I opened my eyes, both of us laughing at what just happened. He still had his eyes shut as he pressed his forehead against mine. He pressed a chaste, yet sensual, kiss against my lips and rested on his forearms again to put some distance between us.

"Hey!" I said, grabbing onto his shirt to get him closer again, but he put his arms on the couch again, laughing a little harder than before.

"As much as I absolutely love kissing you, we can't do it all night." I rolled my eyes and grabbing his clothes again, tempting him closer as I lifted my head.

"What's stopping us?" I whispered against his lips and kissed him again, but stopped when he broke out into a grin. I playfully shoved him away from me and he laughed, his forearms supporting him like before. I thought he might want to move to a more comfortable position, but then realised that he had strong arms from archery, being reminding every day when I saw him. God damn tight uniforms.

"You're gonna be the end of me, Natasha Romanoff." he said and moved away to sit properly on the sofa, me joining him after a moment. I wrapped my legs around his side, though didn't move my body to sit on his lap again. I rested my head against his shoulder and he pressed a kiss against it before sighing. "Do you still want to know what Coulson said at the bottom of his letter?" he asked, teasingly, and I pulled back, glaring at him.

"If it says, this letter was all a joke, then I will murder you too." I threatened.

"Hey!" he said, screwing up his face in fake upset. God, he was too cute. "You were kissing me not thirty seconds ago, so I don't think you'd want me dead."

He reached over and got the letter, but I was focusing on his face. When he came back, he noticed me staring and turned his head quizzically. "I don't ever want you out of my life, Clint." I said as a reply to his unspoken question of why I was staring. A smile began to form on my lips and, when what I had said settled into Clint's head, he smiled too, kissing my hand before handing me the letter. I read the bottom bit below Coulson's sign off.

P.S. Clint, make your move with Romanoff. You two deserve each other and the sexual tension is so tiring. I looked up at Clint and he shrugged. "I thought you would have run off if I told you before."

I laughed, knowing that I probably would've, as I placed the letter back on the stand. "Anyway, you mentioned nothing stopping us from kissing all night?" I rolled my eyes and leapt back onto his lap, drowning myself into his kiss as his fingers ran over my bare thighs, feeling like fire against me. I was so lucky to have him.

Hope you liked my little one-shot. I appreciate the reviews! Thank you so much for reading. PM me for your own one-shot :)