Disclaimer: Don't own anything, Marvel does..
A/N- Not sure how this even started, but I hope you enjoy. I post all my works on Tumblr first, so you may have seen this over there..
Summary: Drabble about Natasha dealing with 'feelings' and what Clint has to do with them. I've been listening to Home by Phillip Phillips and I've decided that it's the perfect Clintasha song.. Enjoy folks!
Home
Natasha was a girl. Obviously. Everyone at SHIELD knew that, but what they didn't know is that sometimes, although she'd never, ever admit it publically, she got distracted. Her distraction was something that most people would assume she'd never, ever fall for. It wasn't just Clint Barton. To be more specific, it was Clint Barton's arms. While at the Red Room, Natasha had been taught to use her body to get the proper responses out of men. She'd rarely thought much about the men she had been forced to flirt or sleep with to get information. Hell, she'd never wanted to actually have sex with anyone she'd ever met. Until Clint Barton.
Natasha thought maybe she was attracted to him because he had saved her and all that shit. (That's what her mandatory SHIELD psychiatrist claimed) When Clint had first saved her and brought her back to SHIELD, Natasha hated him. Oh how she had hated him. But then when he took a bullet meant for her two years later, Natasha realized it wasn't hate. It was the farthest thing from it.
She never acted on her feelings. Most agents at SHIELD thought she didn't come with feelings, and Natasha had been trained her whole life to never, ever, feel anything. Clint fucking Barton had proven that she did indeed have feelings.
They danced around each other for years. 10 years to be exact. It wasn't until Natasha got that phone call from Coulson, (the phone call that made her realize: I could lose him before I even get him) that she realized just how stupid they were.
She went through hell and back just to get him back to her in one piece. He owed her, she thought, as she instructed a very young SHIELD agent on where to bring Bruce Banner. But it was really her that owned him. He saved her. Saved her from the Red Room. Saved her from dying for an organization that took her family from her.
He's worth it, she thought as she ran for her life from the Hulk. She felt numb when Fury told her over coms where Barton was. She heard herself respond in a voice that didn't seem like hers. Natasha wasn't sure if she could save him. When she saw his eyes for the first time, her heart stopped. This wasn't her Clint..
Their fight was no different than any other time they had sparred. Except for the part where Clint was actually trying to fucking kill her. She thought she may have to just kill him and take him out of his misery, take him away from Loki. But running his head into a metal pole seemed to do the trick, and when he muttered her name, her full name, in shock, she realized she had brought him back.
Watching him fight off Loki was one of the most terrifying moments in her life. He screamed at her, taunted her, called her horrific names, but still Natasha sat by his side and waited for him to fight it.
And when he did, she untied his bonds, and shushed him for asking how many agents he's killed. It wasn't his fault, she explained. Clint knew something was up with her. Somehow he always knew. No matter how much she tried to hide from him, he was always there for her, asking if she was okay. (And he was just the one who'd been brain fucked by Loki, god dammit she fucking loved him)
She settled with telling him she'd been compromised. He nodded his head, and didn't ask for any other explanation. She was going to tell him everything; tell him about these her feelings, but Cap burst in, and the mission came first. It always did.
It wouldn't be until hours later, after Stark forced them all to eat Shawarma that she took his hand and laced their fingers together. Clint couldn't stop staring at her, and she decided to kiss the stupid look of shock off his face.
They must have looked pretty stupid, standing in the rubble that was once the great city of New York, embracing. But for once, Natasha didn't care. They had time. Time to spend talking about their feelings (Natasha groaned at the thought), hours spent getting to know each other's bodies, or just simply being with each other..
When Clint asked her if she wanted to go home, she nodded. She realized that home wasn't a building, a country, or even a place. It wasn't the Red Room, it wasn't hers or Clint's quarters at SHIELD. It was wherever Clint was.
The pair walked towards Stark Tower hand in hand. Both knew from this moment on, everything would be different.