Chapter 5 - The Job
Natasha had Clint pinned underneath her, groaning in a mix of joy and relaxation. Sitting on his upturned ass that was covered only in a sheet, she curled her knuckles under her palms and pushed the heels of her hands up his back, between his wings, and then down around his shoulders.
"Oh, fuck, Tasha, that hurts." His voice was heavy with worry that she was slowly kneading out of his back.
"Good or bad?"
"Good. I think. I'll let you know as soon as my brain starts functioning again."
She laughed quietly and made the motion over several times, being careful of his wing joints but also trying to work out the knots of tension she could feel there.
"I can't believe they sent you out flying recon again. Didn't you just get back from the last one? And why can't Sam take a turn?"
Clint sighed his response as she worked her hand in small, tight circles near his neck. "Sam's down with a sprained left radiale, and Steve doesn't want it getting worse." He interpreted her silence correctly and added, "And I'm not ready to send Kate out on her own just yet. She's straining at the bit to go, of course, which just makes me say no harder."
"Because you love her like she's your own."
"Exactly."
Natasha kept quiet as she used just the right amount of pressure up his sides, pulling the tension out of Clint's scapular and rib area. "Right wing up, please." He did so, and Natasha had to stop her work for a moment. "There's bullet holes in several of these feathers." She knew the distinctive look by now. "Were you planning on telling me about that?"
She knew if she could see his face he'd have that guilty puppy dog look on.
"Tasha-"
"Stop." She deliberately took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Her vision had gone scarlet, and she could feel her primary fangs pricking her lower lip. "I get that this is something you have to do. I do. But it takes me a minute sometimes when I remember that you're not as bulletproof as I am." She dragged her nails lightly up his sides and rode the shivers Clint made. "I wish that you weren't the only option. I can't lose you..." Natasha's voice cracked, and when Clint made an effort to turn under her, she rose up on her knees so that he could. He tucked his wings into his sides so he could sit up, cradling her between knees and torso. Her hands lay lightly against his sides, and his arms framed her as he rested his wrists on his bent knees.
"Hey now, don't cry Tasha." He tipped his forehead forward to meet hers, resting their brows together. "You and I have both been in this game from nearly day one. We both take risks every night and day that could get us killed. But you know what?" He wrapped his arms gently around her and bumped their noses lightly together. "We have each other for as long as we have each other. And that's more than a lot of people have." He pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss, and Natasha let her tears fall.
She really couldn't stand the thought of losing him.
But there would be a day, sooner or later, where she would lose him. She was a vampire, just about immortal as it got. And he was Avid, unchangeable and mortal. Whether it was a bullet or a fall or if they should actually succeed in this crazy plan Rogers had, old age, she would lose him one day.
And Natasha was afraid of what she might do when that day came.
She changed the kiss, taking charge and running her tongue against his lips, requesting permission to enter. When Clint acquiesced and let her tongue slide in, she trailed her hands lightly up his sides again just to feel him shiver. She cradled his face in her hands, treating him like the precious thing he was. He panted her own name into her mouth.
"Tasha, Tasha," over and over. His quick hands found the clip holding her hair back and released it, allowing her red curls to fall against her back and shoulders. She was nearly as naked as he, clad in just her panties and bra. Clever fingers teased at the clasp at her spine, popping it open one hook at a time. Finally, impatient, she removed her hands from Clint's face to throw the damned thing across the room. It was slightly more difficult to get her underwear off without breaking contact between his body and hers, but Natasha managed.
It always surprised her, how wet and ready she always was for him. She never noticed her own arousal when she was so focused on Clint's.
The sheets flew down to the end of the bed with several kicks from the both of them, and then his quick, clever, calloused hands found her clit and brushed it with the lightest of touches. Her head dropped back and she forgot to inhale to let out the noise inside of her.
But just as he would have slid one of those strong fingers inside her, Natasha stopped him. "Wait, sweet, wait." She gently pushed him back against the mattress, letting his wings spread. Clint kept his hands placed lightly on her waist. She rested her weight on her hands, which she braced on his shoulders. She kept her fangs retracted, not wanting to risk any of his blood driving her to a feeding frenzy, and lightly scraped her teeth over his collarbone. Clint moaned and dropped his head back, just as she'd done before.
"Mine. Mine for as long as we can."
"Yours." He breathed back in answer. She kissed his shoulders, his arms, trying to paint every bit of his upper body with her lips.
His tears started falling as she nipped gently behind his ear and whispered, "Mine," so softly that Natasha herself could barely hear it. She kissed each eyelid with a touch lighter than his feathers could manage, then reached over and grabbed one of her collar chains.
"Clint." He opened his eyes, hands still on her hips. He nearly stopped breathing when he saw what she held.
"It's... It's the same one from the beginning. I- I would be honored if you'd wear it for me. As long as you're mine." Clint stared at her with his pupils blown wide for a long moment before his head tipped down in the slightest of nods.
She bent forward as he did, and she quickly reached around his neck to fasten it while giving him a slight kiss on the lips. She sat back and stared.
He looked like a debauched angel, wings spread sinfully over the bed, chest and neck and arms dotted with hickeys and her chain around his neck. She leaned back over to the nightstand and grabbed another, holding it out to him. He sat up, confusion in his eyes, and then Natasha twisted her torso and lifted her hair off her neck.
"Would you mind...?" She kept her head down but watched him from the corner of her eye. The dawning comprehension and slow smile made the corners of her own mouth tuck up. As Clint fastened the chain around her neck, she went on, "My people aren't required to wear them anymore, now that we're out of vamp territory. They stay with me because they want to, not because they have to. So I thought-" she bit her lip as she let her hair and her gaze fall. "I thought they could be our thing. A sign of... Of us."
Clint put one finger under her chin and turned her face to his. Natasha looked up, and he didn't need to say anything; his eyes said it all. They kissed again, twining around each other, desperate to not let anything come between them.
Clint was just about to slide home, both of them frantic and panting, when someone started pounding on their bedroom door.
Natasha couldn't be held back this time; Clint couldn't even get a hold on her as she snarled, eyes going a deep red-black and all six fangs coming out. She moved so fast that to Clint it seemed like she'd practically teleported to the door. When she opened it, the frame screamed as the lock and the hinges bent.
"Either the building is on fire or the world is ending," she snarled, voice gravelly with anger and Clint wasn't sure that Natasha was aware of her continued nudity. "And I don't see smoke or hear any screaming, so why in the hell have we been interrupted again?!"
Clint heard Stark babble something about tests and arrows and Barton, and Clint was just about to get out of bed to mop Tony's blood up when Nat got finished with him (and maybe add a few punches himself; dammit Tony!) when he heard Melinda May's calmer tones.
"Rogers needs Clint to make another pass; the shots get blurry about three minutes in."
Clint sighed, getting out of bed and pulling on his discarded pants. "They're blurry because they started shooting at me. Give me fifteen?" He walked up behind Nat, turning her away from the door and Tony's dropped jaw. She buried her head in his shoulder and Clint glared angrily at Stark, less so at May.
The Felid took the hint and dragged Tony away by the ear, as he frantically pawed at her hand and saying something about apples.
Clint pulled Natasha further into the room and shut the door as best as he could. He rubbed soothing circles on her back until some of the tension left her body. The rest drained out when he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.
"I'll be back before you know it, I promise." She wrapped her arms around him tighter.
"I wish you didn't have to."
He sighed. "So do I, sweetheart, so do I."