He deepened the kiss, and I wound a hand up into his short hair. My other hand moved to rest on his chest, feeling his heart hammering against my palm. I briefly wondered if he could feel my own quickening heartbeat; the thought quickly left my mind as he lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist, supporting myself on his body. He turned and took us back to the couch, sitting with me in his lap. After a few moments, I finally pull away, breathing heavily as I try to stop the spinning in my head. His lips moved to my cheeks and my jaw, and I gently pushed him back.
"Clint, wait…" He groaned but pulled away a bit, looking up at me with a darkened gaze. I take a deep breath, attempting to calm down. "It's not really a dream scenario, sleeping with you on my roommate's couch." His eyes widened, and I gave a small laugh.
"You have a roommate? Oh god, why didn't she wake up when you attacked me?" He looked around nervously, and my laugh increased in volume. "Shh! Don't, she's gonna come out here!" He was whispering now, and I shook my head as I climbed off his lap and sat properly on the couch.
"She's not here, Clint. She took a leave a few days ago, won't be back for another week." He visibly relaxed.
"Oh, thank god. I can't even imagine having to explain this." He dragged a hand down his face, and I gave a fake pout.
"You don't want her to know you broke in just to try and sleep with me?" His eyes widened considerably, and I couldn't help but grin in response.
"Well, no, not if you're going to word it like that. I'd rather you told her some big romantic story." He stood and wandered back into the kitchen, and I frowned as he departed. It didn't take him long to return with the bottle of wine and two glasses, pulling the cork and pouring a generous amount for both of us. I sipped mine carefully, not wanting to go all out right away. We talked for the rest of the night, until Clint insisted I get some sleep. He tucked me into bed, and it didn't take much convincing to get him to stay with me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling my back up against his chest gently, and it didn't take long for me to drop off.
The next morning, I was woken by a pinging sound coming from my work tablet on the nightstand. I groaned, reaching out to smack it sleepily. I heard a deep chuckle from behind me, and felt the bed shift as Clint leaned over me to pick it up. He tapped at it for a few minutes before nudging me gently.
"Are you a window seat, or aisle seat kind of person? I wanna book you the right plane ticket." My eyes flew open at that and I sat up quickly to face him. He was grinning, still tapping away at my tablet as I gaped at him. I finally shook myself from my shock.
"Clint, I can't leave. I have responsibilities here." He shook his head, handing me the tablet wordlessly. I frowned as I read over the message. I'd been reassigned back to New York, as well as every other pilot in my group. My frown only deepened as I read the details, and in no time I was out of bed and pulling on my uniform.
"Whoa, whoa, where's the fire?" Clint had followed my lead and gotten out of bed, though he was pulling his get up far slower than I was. I tossed the tablet back to him, and this time he gave the orders a more thorough reading. He picked up his pace and soon we were rushing with other pilots to the choppers. One man pulled me aside, barking an order to prep a jet. I could see other experienced pilots getting the same order, and I nodded, dragging Clint along with me. He was quiet throughout, and when I happened to look at him, I could see he was already in mission mode. We made it to a jet, and he immediately climbed into the cockpit as my copilot. I arched a brow but said nothing, going through what was left of the preflight checks before starting it up. It wasn't long before an entire platoon of jets was escorting two carriers, all headed for New York. Our orders had been very clear: All hands ot battle stations.