The Pieces of Me

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By the time they finished breakfast the food had gone cold, but Clint swore it was still better than what he had been living on the past few weeks.  Afterwards, as tempting as it was to stay in bed all day, he had struggled into his clothes and met her in the kitchen while she cleaned up.  A shower and a change of clothes sounded like about the best thing ever at that point, and he had been pleasantly surprised when she told him he didn’t have to go far to accomplish that.

Despite his absence Tony had made sure that Clint had his own apartment inside the tower as well, and he hadn’t taken care of just the furnishings.  There would be clothes in the closet as well, and likely in the proper size.  Tony had probably stolen his measurements from his SHIELD file for uniforms.

Clint had insisted that he would be back, that he wasn’t planning to stay in his new place, but Natasha had accompanied him anyway to the room.  He didn’t argue.

“Have you seen the place?” he asked as he stopped outside of the door.  “Should I be scared?”

Comments

[bozhemoi]

Natasha had meant it when she said she wasn't letting him out of her sight any time soon. Their talk still lingered in her mind. She wasn't sure if anything had actually been resolved or if all they'd done was tug at loose threads only to leave them hanging. She also knew that behind this door lay another secret.

Natasha's apartment had been void of anything personal because she had been too busy using her stealth and covert skills to get items from Clint's into his apartment here at The Avengers Tower. When he asked her what he was going to think she had to bite her lip for a second before offering a smile. "No, not at all. I hope you like it."

There had been a ritual in moving his things. If she kept decorating his apartment, making it more his space then he would come back. He had to come back. Natasha hadn't actually realised how much she had managed to move until he opened the door. It suddenly hit her how long she had been spending on it, in his space with his things.

"I tried to get what I could," she finally said quietly.

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The way she hesitated before smiling was not very reassuring and Clint’s mind began to wander over all the things Tony could have done with the place. Maybe it would be painted bright purple or decorated with hawks or made into some sort of sex cave or something.

Taking another moment to steel himself, Clint found no hints in Natasha’s expression and eventually had to give up and just open the door.

What greeted him was nothing that he had imagined.

The place was fancy and well furnished, much like Natasha’s had been, with the distinct touch of a very expensive interior decorator, which only made the personal touches stand out that much more. The old coat rack by the door, the long bow on the wall, the beat up cushions on the fancy sofa... everything was set up exactly how it had been at his place despite the changes and for a long time Clint could only look around, his mouth agape. “It’s my stuff,” he finally stated oh so eloquently.

He loved his old run down apartment, but he’d been gone a long time and now everyone would know where he lived; ever bad guy he’d ever put away, and every friend and family member of ever mark he’d taken down. He hadn’t been sure there would be much to go back to, and clearly he was right but for a different reason. “But none of your stuff was in your place.” He looked at Natasha in confusion, still trying to comprehend it all. He had expected to walk into a cold place no better than a hotel, but instead it was almost like home.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha had been trying not to make it feel as if she was watching him closely but she did want to know if she'd done the right thing. She had folded her arms as she stood off to the side, giving Clint the space to walk around. It was true, his apartment was much more like a home than hers.

When he questioned her, she looked back at him. There was no hint of a smile this time. "It seemed more important that you had a... home. There wasn't much I wanted. Needed." Other than for Clint to return. "I'm used to leaving material things behind. Getting yours just... I guess it gave me hope."

She frowned to herself, suddenly feeling a distinct lack of ability to explain herself. It had all made sense in her head. It had seemed the right thing to do. "I chose to walk away. You didn't. Or I assumed you didn't. You need this."

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Clint’s brows furrowed deeply as Natasha spoke, and by the time she was finished there was no mistaking how touched he was by the whole gesture. This was not the work of a day. She had to have made multiple trips, had to have planned carefully and memorized just where everything went. It was incredible, and it left him with a highly indescribable feeling.

“I... I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to go back,” he said quietly. “Wasn’t sure there’d be anything left to go back to if I did.”

With her standing like that, her arms folded and looking almost defensive, he couldn’t really do much so he reached out one hand and gave her shoulder a gentle push. “Thanks.”

[bozhemoi]

Natasha couldn't help but want to protect everything that made Clint who he was. His apartment had always had more of a personal touch to it. The things she had collected for herself were more just comfortable furnishings. Very few things could have been classed as keepsakes, or decorative. The one thing she would perhaps genuinely mourn would be the record collection she had slowly started to build.

And she would blame herself for finally starting to feel settled. She had learned long ago to not get attached to things. However, people were a different story. The evidence was in what she had done for Clint. Finally she dropped her arms and reached out to pull him closer as her fist curled into the front of his shirt.

Her demeanour relaxed and she stretched up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "You're welcome. I realise that had you gone to your old apartment first you'd have obviously missed this stuff, but I couldn't exactly leave a note."

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Clint didn’t really have a lot in the was of personal items from his time before SHIELD; a picture of him and his brother he kept tucked away in a drawer, an old poster from his circus time hailing him the “World’s Greatest Marksman” and parts of his costume. Most of the stuff he had around were things he had collected in the years since, little mementos of places he had been on missions. One of those cheap Eiffel Tower keychains, a bank in the shape of phone booth from London, a fur hat from Russia. He usually went for either the quirkiest or the most obviously tourist item he could find and he had amassed quite a collection. He was pretty sure Natasha thought most of it was stupid or just plain god awful ugly, so that made this gesture mean even more.

Grinning when she pulled him close and kissed him briefly, he slipped his good around around her back and hugged her gently. “Wasn’t really my priority,” he said. He hadn’t even considered going home first, and not because of what he may or may not find. It was simply that his first stop was to be wherever he thought he would find Natasha. She had been his priority.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha smiled against his neck as she let her face press against his skin. She was only now realising just how much she had been waiting to see if Clint would approve. Waiting to see if he would appreciate she had done. Maybe they had been tacky souvenirs to most people, but to Clint they meant something and it was enough for her.

She lifted her head againa and met his gaze. They hadn't finished that talk, but something else occurred to her now they were standing in his new home. "Maybe we should stay here. I mean, maybe I should stay with you. I can bring some clothes down, and what little food there is."

She ran her tongue along her lips before smiling and giving his hip a slight squeeze. Her gaze drifted back to the apartment. The place really did feel more of a home than her own apartment. She wondered if maybe she should look into actually decorating her place and letting go of the notion that she didn't need attachments.

"It was my priority," she told him, her eyes meeting his once more. "I needed to be close to you."

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He felt her smile against his skin and he only held her closer for a minute before she pulled back enough to meet his eyes. When she spoke he let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding. He hadn’t had much time to think about it yet, but he knew he wanted to stay here among all the things that gave him comfort, that made him feel like himself again. He had promised to stay with her and wouldn’t back out on that, so her offer to stay here instead was more relief than he could have imagined.

“Are you sure?” he asked, grateful and hopeful and so damn happy that she could read him as well as she did. His eyes followed her tongue of their own accord, but when he looked up to meet her gaze again she was surveying the apartment.

Her following words made his heart beat a little harder.

He didn’t know what to say - what could he possibly say to that? - so he leaned down to kiss her instead. He couldn’t picture Natasha as the girl who would wear his clothes or sleep in his sheets just to smell him, to feel him around her, but maybe he was wrong. Their relationship had changed after the war on New York even if they had never acknowledged it, and clearly even more now that SHIELD had fallen. Natasha was more honest, more open, than he had ever known her to be, and while he wasn’t sure how to deal with it, he was pretty sure it was going to be a good thing.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha didn't fight the kiss, she gave into it gladly and returned it with a slow burning intensity that had been building since they'd had breakfast. The only thing she had to explain this newfound openness was the fact that she'd already laid bare all her professional secrets on the internet and in a hearing. Nothing was sacred except her own personal life and emotions and if ever she was going to lay those bare then the man she trusted with it all was right here in front of her.

Her lips parted a little as the kiss deepened and she pressed herself close as both arms snaked around Clint and the embrace continued. She hoped this would be a good thing. She hoped she was handling it correctly. She knew she had a tendency to put up walls and hide herself under layers of masks but Clint had been slowly chipping away at that whether either of them realised or not.

New York, the return of Hydra... all of it had forced Natasha to confront a few things about herself. And having Barton back by her side meant more than she was ever going to be able to say. There was no escaping it now. "I'm sure," she murmured as she broke the kiss only to inhale a quick breath and then their lips were joined once more.

[broken_arrow]

The kiss was meant to be gentle, nearly innocent, but the second she pulled him closer and deepened the kiss Clint was lost. Although they had never really talked about it it had been a long time since he had been with a woman other than Natasha. When their relationship had turned physical they had agreed it was just scratching an itch and was by no means exclusive, and for a while it hadn’t been. They were often separated on missions and the nights got long and lonely, but eventually he had realised that those nights, the ones spent with someone other than her, were far from satisfying. It wasn’t just that, having trained with him and patched him up over the years, she knew his body better than anyone, but that she knew him better. She knew his awful childhood, knew the stupid things that made him laugh, and knew he had a horrible sweet tooth, as well as the fact that there was a spot on his neck, just below his ear, that drove him crazy when she got at it.

One day he’d had to admit to himself that there was no point even bothering with anyone else, that it only took off the edge in the moment but ultimately left him more frustrated. Of course that meant that, right now, it had been a long time since he’d shared any intimate contact, and although he wouldn’t presume that she could say the same he had an inkling by how she kissed him.

He could have took her words to mean more, maybe he was even supposed to, but it was him that suddenly felt a pang of doubt. Everything was different, everything was changing, but as good and familiar as this felt he was worried that he was going to screw everything up somehow, like he always did. Maybe it was too fast, maybe they needed more time to adjust. Whatever it was it was with great reluctance that he broke the kiss. He didn’t pull away, instead staying close and breathing heavily against her lips. “I’ve really missed you,” he made sure to point out again, because Christ had he ever, in so many ways.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha never had to lie to herself or to him when it came to their arrangement. That was one thing she liked about it. She didn't have to admit that there had been no other partners. That Clint had been it. She had been done pretending she enjoyed casual encounters when she defected to SHIELD. She lied enough for a living, the few moments she got for herself - for Natasha alone - she didn't want to pretend. Maybe that was why getting physical with Barton had been a natural extension of their friendship and working partnership. She already trusted him. She didn't have to lie at all.

He knew who she was. Knew who she had been. He knew just about all the skeletons that hid in her closet and what it meant for her to be making amends. He knew that there would always be nights where she didn't want to be anyone else but herself.

As the kiss ended she tried not to let out a disappointed noise. It had been too long since she'd last been with Barton, and it was becoming more obvious how much she did want that precious skin on skin contact. His hands on her body always made her tingle with excitement and anticipation. She could feel the kisses deep down in the pit of her stomach. She even shivered a little now as she thought about the way his hand would caress her hip as his lips found her neck.

She exhaled, her breath more than a little ragged as she closed her eyes to try and push away all the memories that threatened to bombard her and make it impossible to conduct herself in conversation. That was Barton's real trick - the way he unravelled Natasha until she couldn't think about anything other than him.

Her lips curved upwards and her pupils were still dilated as she finally looked up at him. She stroked her fingers against his cheek and gave a small nod. "I've really missed you too, Clint."

[broken_arrow]

Her breathing was ragged when they parted and, jesus, did she just shiver? Seeing that look in her eyes Clint felt his resolve crumbling.

There were so many reasons to not rush back into this. They were both lost and confused... but then wouldn’t finding comfort in the one person who understood make sense? They were both injured... but they had both had it much worse and gone at it much harder in the past. There was a shift in their relationship they hadn’t discussed yet... but didn’t they always talk better with their bodies than their words?

No, he was going to walk away, going to suggest they look at the rest of the place, or maybe that she should go pack a few things if she was going to stay with him. That was the intention, but what he said was “I could use a shower,” and he still held her close as he said it, his voice giving the words a different connotation than he had intended.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha wasn't sure how she was supposed to take his comment. She wasn't sure if it was just the fact that she was still so caught up in the effect of the kiss, or if he was genuinely alluding to having a shower together.

There was a niggle in the back of her mind telling her that he probably wasn't. He wouldn't. Both of them needed to be more sensible than that. He'd pulled back for a reason. She had pushed too early. She just gazed at him quietly for a long moment before she tried to pull back some more.

But her feet didn't move and so neither did the rest of her. "Alone?" Because she really did need to get it through to her brain and the rest of her that he more than likely meant alone. "I should pack... I should go--there's things to, ah, pack."

[broken_arrow]

Clint wasn’t really sure how he had mean the comment. He knew how he had intended to mean it, but it hadn’t come out quite right, and he definitely didn’t know how he wanted her to take it. It just felt so damn good to have her in his arms again, to taste her and breathe her in, and he wasn’t good enough of a liar to say he didn’t want more. He wanted to bury himself inside of her, feel her tremble beneath him, feel her comfortable weight on top of him. He wanted to test all those secret places and see if they still made her moan or shiver or dig her nails into his skin.

Damn, if he kept up that thinking then he better decide real quick what kind of shower this was going to be: a shared one or a very cold one.

She was asking the question and he tried to answer but she was already making excuses as if to run, though her body didn’t follow. “Yeah, uh... I’ll just...” he gestured over his shoulder with a nod of his head in the direction he presumed the bathroom to be.

It was ridiculous, they were acting ridiculous, but he didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He had been too long without her, too long alone, and he didn’t want to go back to that again so soon.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha heard his words. She watched him nod. The intention was there for him to move just as it had been for her, and yet they were still standing together. They really were acting ridiculous. She wasn't sure if an unwillingness to end an embrace could be chalked up to trauma, but they both had been under a lot of pressure. Eventually they were bound to crack, they just never could have predicted it would happen like this.

Natasha bit her lip briefly before she leaned in again and kissed his brow, then his cheek, and his jaw. Being this close to him was comforting. It's why she'd wanted to stay close. To share a bed. She had been looking after him but just being near him again was good for her.

She brought her head up to nudge him gently with her nose, her eyes questioning him silently. Even her eyebrow was lifted just enough to say: I will, if you will.

She wanted to shower with him. She wanted a chance to explore his body without it being purely about tending his wounds. She wanted to check that nothing had changed, that it was all as she remembered. That she could find the grooves and ridges that reacted to her touch alone.

[broken_arrow]

It had gotten harder and harder to leave her over the years, but having Loki mess with his head had just about done him in. He had spent a long time afterwards with nightmares, a long time worrying that he wasn’t fixed, that something would happen and flip a switch, or that the god would return for him. Natasha reminded him who he was, she made him feel like he was still worth of trust. She had helped assuage his guilt, had been there for him whenever she could, but she had had work to do and every mission she was sent on tore him apart a little inside.

Now they had both lost everything they had known and all they could really trust was each other. He knew the kind of codependency he was feeling wasn’t healthy, but they had only just found each other again. It would fade, things would get better, so what harm could there really be in indulging in that comfort for now?

Clint closed his eyes at her fleeting kisses and when he opened them again there was no mistaking her look. Hesitating only a second longer he took a step backwards.

Keeping his arms around Natasha he pulled her gently with him.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha let out a breath she had been holding when the decision was made and Clint started to move. She even smiled and ducked her head briefly. Only he was capable of making her feel like she was a teenager that still got nervous in those first few moments. It wasn't like they hadn't seen each other naked. It wasn't like they hadn't been together before. But it was still exciting and worth the anticipation.

She kissed him softly on the lips and corrected his course only once when it seemed he might unintentionally pull them into a closet rather than the bathroom. There was nothing wrong with being dependent on each other right now. Natasha needed him to anchor her after everything that had happened.

Because if she had no Clint there to trust and to keep her steady, then she really was in danger of cracking. As much as she was capable of completing missions without him, she still needed to be able to return to him. To know he was there. To know they both survived.

They reached the bathroom and Natasha moved out of the embrace just enough so that she could start to undress him. She was careful with his shoulder as she got him out of his shirt, her fingers running over his skin but this time it was with reverence, not the concern of someone checking for wounds.

[broken_arrow]

Seeing Natasha look almost bashful for a moment was damn near adorable, not that he would ever say so to her face. They were assassins, they weren’t supposed to be adorable or cute or sweet. They were cold and calculating and efficient, or at least Black Widow and Hawkeye were. Right now, though, they were simply Natasha and Clint

Clint let her steer their course, realising he wasn’t the best one to be leading here since it was his first time in the apartment. She had been here before, many times, setting it up for him, preparing it as if the more of his stuff she filled it with the better the chance it would draw him home.

Maybe it had worked after all.

Once they reached the washroom he had to reluctantly let her go, but she easily made up for the loss. His eyes never left her face as she started to undress him, and while she had looked at him and touched him while bandaging him up, that was entirely different than now. She wasn’t looking at him with a clinical eye, not with concern nor guilt, and her touch was more exploratory, more admiring. They would have to remove the bandages, and that might put a bit of a damper on things, but they had both seen much worse, so it wasn’t like it would be enough to make her shy away.

[bozhemoi]

She always paid special attention to his scars. Some she had been present for, taken care of him just as she had taken care of him the night before. Others he had told her the story of. She knew them as well as she knew her own. She leaned down to press a kiss to a small scar that sat on his pectoral muscle. It had been the scar that helped trigger their first night together. The turning point in their partnership, even if now seemed like an even bigger turning point.

But they weren't quite there yet, and maybe it would come once they had finally given into their physical impulses. Her eyed had stayed dark, her gaze rarely straying from the path of her fingers but when it did they looked up at his face, watching for his reactions.

It was true that the bandages would need to come off and she started with his shoulder, trying to be as gentle as she could be. This wasn't about the ripping off of clothes, or rushing. This was about refamiliarising and reassuring each other.

[broken_arrow]

Clint shivered under the kiss; the scar and the skin immediately surrounding it was still numb after all these years, and the touch left a tingling sensation that he always enjoyed. He remembered the moment he’d gotten that wound, remembered what it had led to. He had tried to keep their relationship platonic, had tried to ignore his growing attraction to her, but when she’d made the first move that night he had given in without hesitation.

He couldn’t say he’d never regretted it, but he certainly didn’t regret it anymore.

Holding his breath while she carefully removed the bandage, he distracted himself by slipping his fingers under the hem of her shirt, fingertips sliding along her skin as he slowly pushed the material upwards.

[bozhemoi]

There had been a couple of days after that night she'd questioned whether she'd done the right thing. Whether she might lose Clint for good because he realised getting tangled up with her was a mistake after all. He hadn't. He hadn't told her no, he hadn't pushed her away. That was when she realised she could never go back to sleeping with strangers, to having to pretend that she wanted them when all she had wanted was to be with Clint again.

He had spoiled her for anyone else, and she was never going to be apologetic about that. It did, however, mean that soon or later they both had to contront the fact that maybe it was more than just a partners with benefits deal.

She lifted up her arms so that he could get her shirt off, taking the opportunity to run her fingers through his hair after she'd put the bandage aside. Her breathing had become more rapid, her lips parted as she took in shallow breaths. She dropped her hands to his waistband, fingers curling into it.

[broken_arrow]

That first morning after Clint had wondered if they had made a mistake. Would things be awkward now? Was it just a one night stand they would never speak of again? Would she treat him differently? The worries had turned out to be unfounded, and it had become more of a natural progression in their relationship, just the next logical step.

The problem eventually became that they hadn’t known how to get to the next one. They would have to talk, sooner or later, but definitely not now.

Lifting her shirt up over her head, his eyes traveled over the exposed skin, drinking her in, before settling on the wound in her shoulder that almost matched his, albeit a much better cared for version. Ducking his head he placed the softest of kisses over it as his hands wrapped around her waist, slowly sliding upward to trace the edges of her bra. Her hands had made their way to his pants, and he gave the slightest nod, his fingers tracing up her spine to find the clasp of her bra and open it in one smooth movement.

[bozhemoi]

He would always be good with his hands. It was something she had grown to appreciate. A trait she often attributed to his being an archer. She turned her head just a little to flick out her tongue against his ear in appreciation before she undid his fly and worked on getting his pants down over his hips.

She sucked in a quiet breath as the bra came loose, her forehead coming to rest against his as she let his pants do the rest of the work and fall to the floor while she moved her arms to let the bra slide down them.

One arm snaked around his neck so she could press her breasts against his chest and initiate a slow, thorough kiss as she drank in the sensation. She slipped her other arm around his waist, her hand travelling down as she gave his ass a gentle squeeze and smiled against his mouth.

[broken_arrow]

Clint was thankful to be wearing loose pants instead of jeans so there was no awkward struggle to get out of them; instead they pooled easily around his ankles and he was able to step out of them. Natasha’s bra dropped just as easily to the floor, but before he could get his hands on her perfect breasts she was pressing herself against him and kissing him deeply. Any disappointment he might have felt vanished immediately with the feel of her skin against his and the way she explored his mouth.

The hand on his ass and the smile that accompanied it earned a smile from him as well.

Not one to be outdone, Clint wasted no time in sliding his hands down her sides to her hips where he caught the waistband of her pants and pushed them down her legs.

[bozhemoi]

Natasha's clothing needed a little more aid than Clint's, but soon she was stepping out of her pants and kicking them to the side. Her hands were back on his body and she let her palms glide over his hips and torso. It really did feel like it had been too long since they'd last been able to explore each other's flesh.

Finally she broke the kiss to catch her breath, smiling again as she looked at him. There was an easing of tension in her body that came from being close to him, that came from being with Clint like this. As if the world made sense again just because he was here with her.

She let out a slow breath before leaning in, her mouth traveling along his jawline before she flicked her tongue against his earlobe and drew it into her mouth.