This is just a quick one-shot I wrote to try and get through some writer's block I have going on. It's a short take on the first time Clint and Natasha made love, but I thought I would share.
Warning: Rated M for sexual content (not graphic in my opinion) and some language.
Thanks for reading! Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome as turkey on Thanksgiving.
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
The First
By: GalInTheMoon
She awoke to morning sunlight dancing across her bare skin. The sun's warm and gentle fingers soothed her senses into pleasurable awareness. She moaned without thought as she stretched her muscles. Her frame stiff from sleeping soundly in one position too long. She opened her eyes as she rolled over and gazed at the empty bed beside her. She had half expected Clint to still be there, though the smell of coffee drifting into the room had already told her otherwise. She was more than a little disappointed that she had missed him resting. She had seen him sleep before, of course, but this was their first morning after. Their first morning as lovers. Seeing your partner sleep from sheer exhaustion while on a mission was one thing. Seeing the man you just made love to resting happily in his bed, beside you, was another entirely.
They had been partners for a few years now. Fury, thinking it was some kind of punishment for Barton to have to take her on as his partner after the stunt he pulled bringing her in, was more than pleased to find they were a perfect match. They worked together as if they could read each others thoughts before they thought them. Their actions seemed coordinated even when they had to act on the fly. They made an amazingly exceptional team. It was a fact that they had held above the growing attraction between them. Both having been pulled to test the boundary of their partnership ever so gently, only to have the other with their feet firmly on sensible ground. Neither would tempt risking so much for quick satisfaction, at least not at the same time. But something had changed yesterday and she couldn't pinpoint what it was and why exactly it had happened. What had brought them to this moment. What had made them both give in and take the risk.
They had returned from a routine mission, had enough time to be cleared by medical, write their reports, and meet up by chance outside the special tasks division wing. He hadn't seen her at first. His head was down looking through a file. A file she rightfully assumed was his, if not their, next mission. She stopped walking and stood waiting for him to get close enough that she could bump into him. "Eyes up Barton." She said flatly, once he was in front of her, though a small smile twinkled in her eyes.
He smiled at her without hesitation. It was a small thing that she had watched develop over the past few months. A look that seemed for her alone. Clint could joke around with the best of them but no one would ever think to nickname him Smiles unless it was to be a smartass, "Nat." He closed the file in his hands and raised it up, "Next assignment."
"Yeah? Fury doesn't waste any time."
He shrugged. He had a few more years of this work under his belt. Mission after mission was just life for him by now, "Some guy in Hungary got himself a one-way ticket to one of SHIELD's finest holding cells. Sounds pretty straight-forward. Should be in and out."
"Good. We need straight-forward." It was just last month they had found themselves cornered, without communication, and working off plan, and on their own. All of which would have been just a bad day at the office had they not found themselves in that situation because their jet had been shot down. They were both battered and running on fumes before the gig had even started. Once the shit inevitably hit the fan they had come through it, they had completed their mission, but they were left in less than stellar condition on the other side. They were still performing missions since and both still recovering in many ways.
"From your lips to..." Clint pointed skyward before looking back down at the file and flipping his thumb along the edge. He was clearly not looking forward to heading back out so soon, not that he would have ever admitted it to even her. "Where you headed?" She asked.
He looked up, "Now?" and shrugged. He looked over his shoulder at the direction he had just come from, "Out of here. Hell if I know beyond that."
"Care for company?"
He smiled slightly again, "Always, if you're the company."
She grabbed the file from his hand, "Stop flirting with me Barton. I'm not one of your little weekend tarts." She smiled inwardly as she looked down at the mission details. If she were honest, she loved his flirting. Maybe it was her training to be the seductress, maybe she felt something for him beyond their friendship and professional partnership. Whatever the reason for it she got a thrill from their sexual cat and mouse game, she snapped to life with his flirtations.
His smile faded a little as he watched her study the file in her hand, "Don't I know it." He suspected if ever there was a woman that could turn him from his womanizing tendencies it was Natasha Romanoff. He would never share that with her though. She was his partner first, his friend second, and there was no room for a third. They were both better off with their guards up in that respect. Better to let her think he couldn't be trusted. Could he be trusted? She looked up and slapped his arm with the paperwork in her hand when he had remained contemplative for too long, "Lunch?" she asked.
"Your treat?"
"No way hotshot. I paid last time."
"Did you?" The upturned corner of his mouth betrayed his mock confusion.
She stared at him a moment. He looked the same after every mission. It was a mix of relief, joy, and bone-deep weariness. He would genuinely smile but his eyes always betrayed the ghosts that weighed him down ever so slightly. For both their sakes, she made light of it. "Oh my god just eat with me. You look like hell."
His smile made its way to both sides of his mouth, "Aw, Nana Nat, you always know what to say. Shoving food in me every chance you get."
She glared at him before turning away, walking while talking over her shoulder, "Shit, If I didn't remind you to eat you would live on coffee and...cream. Its amazing you made it as long as you had without me." He protested the quality of his diet, and general self-sufficiency, as he followed her out of the building and to a small mom and pop diner that was across the street from the SHIELD field office. It was a quiet spot that was probably remaining in business in no small part to all the agents that went there for meals around the clock. But the food was good and the atmosphere was right. They made their way back to a corner table that allowed them to both sit with their backs to a wall and their eyes on the rest of the diner.
The meal went too quickly for their liking, the conversation was light and joking. This was their pause between the chaos and they enjoyed every bit of it they could, taking their time. They were still on the high of coming home, being home as it were, and in one piece. They were playful with each other, and when finished, left a large tip for occupying a table as long as they had. As they were leaving Barton held the door open for her. The air pushed her hair back and a wisp grazed his arm. His eyes followed the tendril as the breeze pulled it back up and to her face. They shared a glance, a split-second moment in which everything changed. He searched her eyes, and saw something that she hadn't realized she let slip. It was a confession of longing, an admission of shared desire. A wall crumbled and she said his name before he pushed her out the door and against the building, kissing her as her back hit the bricks. She didn't stop him, she kissed him back hungrily. Months of tension, even years of feelings denied were boiling over the edge and she reacted in the way that only their relationship would ever allow in her. She reacted naturally, openly, without thought or motivation. On instinct, desire alone. They quickly made their way to the small apartment he kept a few blocks from the office. It was tiny, sparsely occupied, and neat as a pin. The man may have treated his body like a trash can but he cared for his humble residence like the sacred sanctuary it was.
They rushed into their lovemaking as well. Sparing no time for affection or tenderness. It was hard, tough, with an edge of violence. It was what they needed. The release they were after. It was sex and nothing more. The raw, ravenous kind that consumes you until you are left paralyzed with every muscle trembling, exhausted, and feeling as if you have just come out of a rapturous trance. There would be gentle love making later. They would have their romance and tender kisses, but this first time was fervent, nearly desperate, and it left them drained as they passed out in each others arms.
And now Natasha found herself clothed in only the morning sun, stretched out on her partners bed as he wandered around his place out of her sight. She was close to admonishing herself. How could she have been so weak and so stupid? But she was unwilling to berate herself for long. Why shouldn't they do this? They had witnessed so many horrors side by side. They had suffered so much together. The life SHIELD offered left little room for relationships. They only had each other in so many ways. Why couldn't they have this? Why couldn't they have this pleasure? Was suffering their domain alone? No, it couldn't be. She wouldn't let it be. They would have this too and no one would tell her it was wrong. They could keep it professional. After all she could turn her heart to stone if she so chose, and he could sleep with anything that moved and not look back. This would change nothing she told herself. But as his shadow fell across the doorway, and she heard the tinkle of a breakfast tray coming closer, she knew she was wrong. They would change, they would be affected. Sure as Clint "Hawkeye" Barton was bringing her fucking breakfast in bed, they would be altered. What surprised her the most about that realization was that she didn't care. Let them change, she thought. She wouldn't take back what they had done. She wouldn't regret having jumped head first over that line without thought, because really, she had thought about it a millions times over. She had thought about it for years. She had debated it in her head for months. She had played out every scenario, every eventual outcome good and bad, and when he had kissed her all those possibilities came to a fine, sharp point. One final decision was made in an instant. She would sleep with him. She would make love to him, she would give in at last to what she had wanted for so long. Her training, Red Room, none of it had a hold on her in that moment. The moment she gave in to him, to herself. Her desire for him was stronger than all that would normally hold her back. No, she wouldn't regret that.
Clint slid into the bed beside her, holding up the full breakfast tray, as she pulled a sheet up around her exposed form. "Breakfast?" he asked as he sat the tray across her lap and kissed her gently on the lips. She kissed him back before thanking him for the meal and began to hungrily eat the simple omelet and toast he had prepared. She paused and looked at him, "Have you eaten?"
He raised the mug of coffee from the tray, now steaming in his hand, "Breakfast of champions." He was dressed in nothing more than black boxer briefs. His tight, muscled form on full display.
She shook her head, "You're going to switch to straight-up shots of adrenaline one of these days." She sipped her orange juice and marveled at how quickly this intimacy felt perfectly natural.
"Tried it." He said, "Surprisingly, not that great." She gave him a questioning look as he sipped his coffee and she continued to eat. "Emergency kit." He explained simply enough. She nodded in understanding. The SHIELD issued emergency kit they carried on every mission included a syringe of adrenaline. Enough to keep a failing heart beating. Apparently he had used it at least once, but it hadn't been on any team delta mission she remembered. She watched him. A new feeling seeped into her, a dark and thick sludge of emotion. When it came down to it he was more breakable than her. In more danger. She had had modifications made that gave her an increased healing ability. She could physically recover from things quicker than Clint. Recover, and even shake off some things that knocked him on his ass. Granted the things that knocked him on his ass would send most people out on their backs. Still, the thought scared her if she allowed it. Scared her more than it ever had before. He caught her watching him and misread the look on her face, "Good? You like tomatoes right?"
She shook off her thoughts and took another bite. She covered her mouth with her hand as she said, "Delicious. I'm surprised you had them." Seriously, they had been out for a good week, had been back for mere hours, and he had fresh produce in his crashpad fridge?
He gave her that crooked grin, "Ah, I was up early. Took a little walk and grabbed what I needed."
She leaned forward and around the tray to kiss him before leaning back and taking another bite, "So when do we head to..." she paused to remember, "Budapest?"
"This afternoon." He glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock on his nightstand. "Seven hours." He smiled coyly, "Should be enough time."
She took another sip of orange juice before asking, "For what?"
Clint leaned forward, placed his mug back on the breakfast tray, before pushing it all off of the bed. The dishes and leftover food smashed to the floor as he crawled over her and began to kiss her once more. They made love for the second time. Taking it slowly and enjoying the limited time granted to them to be nothing more than with each other, for each other. All the demands the rest of the world would make could wait. For this blessed moment they were all that mattered.
The End