Note: I'm sorry this took so long. I really struggled writing this chapter. Hope you still like it.
The fact that the war had ended never really hit Natasha until she was in England. It kind of felt like a dream, like any minute she was going to wake up and she would have to work her next shift. But the war was over and now she would be able to go back home. She watched as families were reunited, seeing them crying and hugging made her heart swell. A small part of her was hoping that she would see Clint here. They had moved him to a hospital here, maybe he would be going back to the US too. She looked around, hoping she would see his messy hair or his bright eyes.
"What are you looking at?" Betty asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"It's nothing," Natasha said. "I was just thinking."
"Well we need to get going. Our plane is going to leave soon." Betty said.
"Alright I'm coming," Natasha took one final look around her before following her friend. She shouldn't have gotten her hopes up. She was probably never going to see him again. She just hoped that he had survived, that he had made it too the end just like she had.
By the time Natasha arrived at Clint's house, the temperature had dropped so she wrapped her coat around herself to get warmer. She knocked on the door a couple of times, but no one was answering and that made her concerned. She was pretty sure that she told him that she would come over later. Natasha was just about to knock again when she heard a noise from the barn. She began to walk over when she heard it again, a faint whizzing sound. She looked in the doorway and saw Clint standing with his bow, firing arrows at a target on a wall. He hit the center of the target again and again, and Natasha had never seen him so focused before. She took a step inside and he must have seen her shadow because he suddenly turned around and aimed the arrow right at her.
"Tasha?" he asked, bringing the bow down slowly.
"Sorry. I didn't meant to scare you." Natasha said, trying to calm herself down. Her heart was beating rapidly and for moment it did look like he might have shot her accidently. She looked at him and saw that he was shaking. "Come on," she said. "It's getting cold, let's head inside." They both walked quickly back into the house and Natasha was shocked when she looked down and saw that his hand covered in blood.
"Clint, how long were you out there?" she asked.
"I…uh…I'm not sure," he said sheepishly. "I guess I just lost track of time."
"Do you have any bandages around here?" Natasha asked.
"Uh yeah, there in that cabinet." He said and began to walk over there before Natasha stopped him.
"No, I'll get them. You sit down."
"Yes, ma'am."
Once she had all of the supplies, she sat down and began to clean his hand. She cleaned the blood off of his fingers and saw how raw they were, like he had been shooting for hours. "I'm sorry," Clint whispered as she finished wrapping the bandages around his fingers. He was still shaking a little so Natasha moved closer to him.
"For what?" she asked.
"I almost shot you," he said.
"It seemed like you were distracted. Like you were off in your own world," Natasha said. "Is everything alright?"
"It's just…," Clint began, trying to think of the right words. "Sometimes this place feels like a prison. It's just filled with bad memories and I can't ever escape them. Shooting helps clear my head, but I guess I went a little too far this time."
"I know it can be hard to escape the memories sometimes," Natasha said, standing up and walking so that she was standing right in front of him. "But they're all in the past. They can't hurt you now." She placed her hand on his cheek, making sure that he is looking at her. "Just think about right now. It's only you and me."
"Only you and me," he repeated quietly. He stood up suddenly and kissed her with a kind of desperation that she had never felt before. She backed up until she her back hit the wall and she was thankful for the support. She was pretty sure that her legs were going to give out if he kept kissing her like this. His hands were everywhere and she could barely think when his fingers brushed the skin under her blouse. "Do you want this?" he asked, pulling away so he could look at her.
"Yes, yes," she said way too quickly.
"People might say something if they find out," he said.
"People have been saying things since I've arrived here," Natasha said. "I don't care what they say. I care about you."
That seemed to be all he needed to hear. He wrapped his hands around her thighs so he could pick her up and then stumbled into his room. He placed her on his bed and took off his shirt with alarming speed. She had never been able to look at him like this before. She wanted to run her hands and explore every inch, but he seemed to have different plans. He got on the bed, kissing her so that he was practically on top of her. He slowly began to unbutton her blouse, kissing the newly revealed skin.
Once their clothes were finally removed, he slipped his fingers in between her thighs and she thought that she was going to lose it right there. She arched her back into him as in continued to stroke her, until she was writhing underneath him.
"Wait," she gasped, trying to find her voice.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he asked, looking down at her.
"No, I'm fine," she smiled at him. "It's just…do you have a prophylactic?"
He reached around her and pulled a small packet from the bedside drawer, then ripped it open and slid it onto him. He then lowered himself into her and she let out a small moan.
"Oh, you feel so good," he whispered when he began to move. Natasha wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him even closer than before. He was hitting just the right spot and they were both growing more and more frantic and Natasha wasn't sure how much longer she was going to last. Clint seemed to have realized this because he leaned in closer and whispered, "Let go, Tasha. I've got you."
And she did. She let go and it felt amazing. She was pretty sure that she saw stars behind her eyes. It wasn't long until Clint came after her, moaning into her neck and collapsing on top of her. They both took a moment to collect themselves and clean off, before both of them climbed back into his bed. Neither of them said anything, there were really no words to describe what had just happened. Although right before she fell asleep, she thought she heard Clint whisper something to her. But she might have just imagined it.