Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Valentines Day: Singles Awareness Day
Natasha Romanoff had never believed in love.
Love had not stopped the fire that had taken her parents.
Love had not prevented the Red Room from taking her in and training her into the master assassin that she was now.
Love had not stopped her from taking the lives of countless people in cold blood.
And love had not made her decide to join SHIELD.
She had never truly believed that Clint had saved her because of love.
That was just desire.
No, Natasha Romanoff definitely did not believe in love.
And yet, when she looked at Clint, there was something there that she couldn't understand.
Clint knew Natasha's views on love, but that didn't stop him from insisting that it was what caused him to lower his bow all those months ago. He knew that he had also suffered at the hands of fate, and he knew that love hadn't stopped those either, but that didn't stop him believing in love.
He had the perfect proof after all.
He loved Coulson like a father; he had taken the time and patience to help Clint settle into life working for SHIELD.
He loved his bow; he had been through so much with it, he couldn't imagine not using it.
And he was in love with Natasha Romanoff. She had been there with him for ten months now, and each day, he fell further and further.
But best of all, he saw the way Natasha looked at him. If he were any judge, he'd say that she was in love with him too.
Except he knew she didn't understand it.
He knew Valentine's Day was one of her least favourite days of the year. After all, why should she celebrate something she didn't believe in? And she had merely rolled her eyes when he told her that some people called it Singles Awareness Day.
Clint wasn't sure how she would spend Valentines Day. It was the first one since he'd known her, and he wanted to do something special, even though he knew that it wasn't like her to believe in love.
He made her dinner, her favourite. Natasha had come back from a solo mission the night before, and they were leaving again in a couple of days for their next partnered mission.
When Natasha appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, he answered her question before she even asked it.
"You got back from your mission yesterday. This should be your first proper meal." Natasha raised one of her eyebrows at him.
"And it's Singles Awareness Day," he continued, "Might as well make the most of it." Natasha rolled her eyes at him and muttered something under her breath in Russian.
"Honestly, Barton," she grumbled, "Anyone would think you were some lovesick puppy or something."
Only for you, Natasha, Clint thought. On the outside, he shrugged.
"Well come on, are you going to eat this or not?" he asked. Natasha rolled her eyes again, but joined him at the table anyway.
"Thanks, Clint," she said quietly. Clint shrugged again, indicating that it was no problem. He glanced at her face every now and then as they ate in silence. She had that look on her face again, the one she wore whenever she seemed to be confused about something.
"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling her cleared plate towards him and putting them by the sink.
"Nothing," Natasha said, clearing her face of all emotions. Clint decided not to push her as he sorted their pudding. If his plan was to work, he needed her in the best mood possible.
"So are you glad to be back?" he asked as they tucked into the dessert.
"I usually am," she said evasively.
"What about this time?"
"Yes, I am pleased to be back, Barton."
"Good," Clint gave her his classic smirk, the one that made her eyes soften and a tiny smile to grace the corners of her mouth.
They settled down together in front of the TV a short time later. Clint put an arm around her shoulders as she flicked through the channels. To his relief, Natasha didn't push him away, instead looking at him with a confused expression.
"It's good to have you back, Nat."
"Don't call me that," she complained immediately.
"Sorry," he said quickly, holding his other hand up in surrender. His eyes took in her beautiful face. He was so close! If only he had the courage to lean forwards...
He spotted a tiny smudge of chocolate in the corner of her mouth and grinned.
"Come here," he told her. He licked his thumb and rubbed the smudge away. Natasha froze, clearly unused to this sort of attention. He didn't move his hand away once the chocolate had gone, but cupped her face with it instead. His hand tingled, and he wondered vaguely if Natasha could feel it.
"What are you doing, Barton?" Natasha asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"You had chocolate around your mouth," he replied, "It's gone now."
"So why haven't you moved?"
Clint didn't answer at first, wondering how to reply. Then he steeled his courage and said,
"Maybe it's to see if there's any more." Natasha snorted, and he continued, "Maybe it's because I like to see you with your walls down." Natasha raised an eyebrow at him again. Clint took a breath and said, "Or maybe it's so I can do this..."
He leant forwards slowly, giving her the chance to back away, and sighed inwardly with relief when she didn't, and pressed his lips gently to hers.
She didn't respond immediately, but as he twisted his fingers into her hair, he felt her melt into him and kiss him back. He smiled as he broke the kiss and pulled away to rest his forehead against hers.
"Happy Valentines Day, Tasha," he whispered.
Natasha smiled.
