Author's Note: This is why I didn't want to finish the last chapter where I did. Completely lost my flow. And how the hell do you follow that last chapter? Short one this time I'm afraid but a) just wanted to finish off the last one and b) it's been so bloody long I needed to post something! I will be back shortly (hopefully!) with what I expect will be the final chapter of this and then work begins on the next story... whichever one that may be. I think it's between Why Doctor Poole Left in Clint's Stitches (sequel to Why Clint Has Never Tried it on With Natasha and Why Tony Should Not Interfere With Clint's Love Life) or Mr Barton's Mistress (sequel to Mrs Barton)…
Disclaimer: Don't have anything to do with Marvel and their wonderful play-land of creations … sigh…
Knowledge
Leaning forward Clint tenderly deepened the kiss, his free hand slowly making its way to rest on Steve's side, one of the soldier's own hands slipping gently onto Clint's knee. Reluctantly the archer pulled back, slowly opening his eyes, studying Steve's face.
"I know it's scary," he said softly, stroking a thumb gently over Steve's cheek as he found lingering uncertainty and fear. "Just don't think about anyone else, don't worry about what anyone else might want or think," Clint dared to lean forward again, lips almost touching Steve's. "For once in your life just think about what you want."
For a moment the room fell still and silent before sudden movement from the soldier caused Clint to pull away quickly, an apology ready on his lips but before he could say anything else the archer found himself pulled to his feet, strong arms wrapping around him as he was pulled flush against the taller body in front of him, Steve's lips claiming his. When this time they parted it was Steve who opened his eyes first, his lips curling up slightly at the obviously shocked expression on the other man's face. Slowly Clint's eyes blinked open as Steve's hand ran loosely down his back.
"Now who's the one looking scared?" the soldier asked quietly. Clint's eyebrow arched sheepishly.
"I'm just waiting for you to come to your senses and punch me."
A faint frown pulled on Steve's brow, instinctively pulling the smaller man closer. He may have been told his whole life that this was wrong but as he traced his thumb down Clint's cheek the soldier felt perfectly at ease.
"I have come to my senses," he leant forward and rested his forehead against the archers. "Finally."
Clint sighed quietly, leaning into the taller man's hold, happy to remain in silence for a moment, enjoying the feel of Steve's hand gently but securely on his lower back. Finally he pulled back slightly, looking up at the soldier.
"You're sure?" he whispered. Steve smiled and nodded, leaning down.
"I'm sure," he confirmed, brushing his lips over Clint's, running a hand through the archer's hair. "Are you doing anything tomorrow?"
Clint's brows furrowed slightly in confusion.
"Bruce's party…"
"Oh, right of course," Steve bowed his head sheepishly. "What about the day after?"
Clint's eyebrow arched as he realised where the solider was going with his question.
"Oh I'm not sure. There's this kinda cute doctor back at SHIELD an…" the archer chuckled as Steve hit him lightly on the shoulder. "I don't have anything planned."
"Well in that case," Steve tilted his head slightly, worrying his lip bashfully. "You wanna do something? I mean… just the two of us? Go see a movie, go out for dinner…"
"A movie would be good," Clint interrupted, dropping his gaze bashfully at his eagerness. "I don't remember the last time I was at the movies."
Steve smiled.
"Movie it is then. And dinner."
Clint nodded slowly.
"Movie and dinner…" he agreed, lips curling into a smile as he leant back up to bring them towards Steve's, arms wrapping around the taller man's shoulders. "Can't wait."
x-x-x
The kitchen was silent bar for the occasional clink of Bruce placing his cup of coffee back on the table. Opposite him Natasha sat flicking casually through a magazine, occasionally picking up pieces of chocolate from a broken up bar next to her. Tony sat at the head of the table, seemingly innocently working away on the tablet in his hand. His mouth was only half open when one of Natasha's chocolate pieces hit him on the head.
"Don't even think about it," the female muttered, continuing to flick through her magazine. Tony scowled.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied. Natasha's eyebrow arched as the billionaire looked upward toward the roof.
"You cannot ask JARVIS to spy on them," she stated firmly. Tony crossed his arms and pulled a face.
"Spy on who?" he asked innocently as Natasha just rolled her eyes. "I was just going to ask JARVIS where the elevator is."
Natasha looked up at the billionaire with an unconvinced look but waved a hand dismissively.
"Ask away then," she sighed. Tony screwed up his nose at the agent – albeit only when her gaze was returned to her magazine – before looking upwards.
"JARVIS, where did the elevator go after I got off it down here?"
"Agent Barton's floor sir."
Tony smirked smugly.
"And then where did it go?"
"Nowhere sir. It is still at agent Barton's floor."
Tony's smirk faded.
"What? But... I..." the billionaire clamped his mouth shut under a reproachful look from Natasha. Letting out a heavy, dramatic sigh he clambered to his feet.
"Don't interfere again Tony," Natasha warned. Tony huffed.
"I have no intention of interfering. No more Tony interfering – ever. I am going to my lab."
Natasha and Bruce simply watched as Tony stomped out of the room, muttering loudly about the perfectly good waste of his sensitivity and good advice. Once he was out of earshot Natasha chuckled and looked up to the roof.
"JARVIS?"
"Yes Agent Romanov?"
"Is Agent Barton still on his floor?"
A brief pause followed. Bruce gave Natasha a half amused half scolding look to which the female shrugged with a grin.
"He is not on his floor."
"Hmmm," Natasha smirked, quirking an eyebrow at Bruce before returning her attention back to her magazine. "I wonder where he could possibly be?"