Quick upload - mad busy but aiming to upload the next one by the weekend! Just a continuation of the sweetness from the last chapter but from the other side of the encounter.
The press of Natasha's mouth against his own was perhaps the last thing he had expected and for a long moment Clint hadn't known how to react. His first instinct was to push her away, put as much distance between them as possible so that she wouldn't see that she was the only weakness he had; his second was to drag her closer. The moment of indecision lasted too long, he could feel the change in her as she prepared to move away from him and that was what made the decision for him. Though he knew it would have been more sensible to move away from her, it was Natasha and he just couldn't do it.
Keeping his arms wrapped loosely around her waist, he tilted his face up to meet hers and felt velvet softness, warmth and anxious heat as he absorbed the feeling of her lips on his. He brushed his lips against hers gently, once, twice, before being a little more firm. Pausing to gage her reaction and finding no objection, he deepened their kiss, coaxing her into opening up for him. Languidly their tongues duelled with one another, learning every corner, every taste, every movement, Natasha's hands rising to tangle in his hair as he pulled her closer to him.
Warring with his desires, he forced himself to take things slowly, conscious of all that she had been through and wary of pushing too fast in this new evolution of their relationship. He traced the delicate bones of her spine with his fingertips, aware that beneath the deceptive fragility was the strongest woman he has ever known. Natasha shifted in his lap, sighing into his mouth as his hands explored the contours of her back and wound their way into the length of her hair, and he caught fire, restraining his sudden urge to flip her over and cover her body with his own. He kissed her instead as though he could draw life from her mouth, as though it were the single most important thing he had ever done.
It felt like a moment, it felt like forever, before she pulled back to look at him. Barton drank in the image of her face, lids half lowered, cheeks flushed, features painted with streaks of sensuality that made her seem somehow lovelier. Foreheads touching, they leaned in to one another, breathing each other in and coming to terms with what had just happened.
Natasha's eyes opened fully, their gazes colliding iron-grey and green. The world seemed to stand still around him as their gazes locked in surprise at the sudden connection. Then she smiled and he felt his own lips curl in response.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed, stroking her hair.
She laughed, a throaty chuckle that did nothing for his resolve to take things slowly. "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind," she whispered. She didn't sound like the Natasha he knew and he realised that he was seeing yet another hidden facet of her personality, one that she guarded carefully and had only now chosen to reveal a glimpse of.
He wasn't sure how to voice his concern about taking things slowly but he needn't have worried, this was Natasha, she'd always been able to read him better than anyone and perhaps she felt the same way. Lacing her fingers with his own, she moved to lie at his side, urging him to lie beside her. Her head came to rest on his chest, hand resting over his heart. Without thinking, he curled his arm around her, holding her to him, stroking the soft skin of her arm.
After a long moment of silence, he sighed. "You're sure?" he asked, afraid of the answer but knowing that the question had to be asked. They had been through so much in recent months that he wasn't sure either of them could take another blow and if this went wrong, if one of them screwed this up, there was more to lose than just a couple of nights sleep.
Natasha nodded, fingers tightening in his. "I don't ..." she sighed, struggling to find the words she needed. "Just take it slow and we'll figure it out."
He nodded his agreement, content to let her take the lead. Tilting her face up toward his own, he turned his face and planted a soft kiss on her mouth. As she settled against him, relaxing into the curve of his arm, the heat of her seeping into him, he told himself that he had waited years for them to make this step and he would wait as long as she wanted before they took the next one. One step at a time, one day at a time. He pulled her closer, needing to feel the realness of her against him and took his first real breath in months. With the smell of her shampoo in his nose and the solid warmth of her in his arms, he slept.