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 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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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As they caught their breath, with their eyes locked and their movements stilled, the air between them was electric. Before yesterday it had been a few months since they had been in the same room together and almost as long since they had even spoken. Being together again, skin on skin and breaths intermingling, was almost intoxicating and Clint was glad when Natasha moved in again as for a second he thought he might just drown in her eyes.

His arms instantly encircled her again, and he let out a happy sigh as he held her close. A sigh that turned into a groan when she started teasing his ear, a spot she knew well that really got to him.

Grabbing her ass he lifted her from the floor before turning and setting her on the counter, his hands traveling down her thighs where they now rested on either side of his hips.

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Natasha turned her feet so her toes could rub the backs of his legs. She raked her fingernails against his scalp as she pushed her fingers through his hair, her mouth and tongue finding his earlobe once more.

She gave a soft moan of her own at the taste of his salted skin before she leaned back on the counter, and pushed her breasts up in invitation as one foot continued to rub his leg. Any pause they took seemed to be charged with electricity and wanting.

Never again did she want the months to pass without him by her side or between her thighs. Her eyes were almost jet black now as she gazed at him, her eyelids becoming hooded. She reached out, fingertip tracing his mouth. "Always you... Only you."

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Her nails along his scalp, her tongue against his ear... jesus, she was undoing him. It really had been far too long, and when she leaned back to present her body to him like that he couldn’t help another involuntary sound of pleasure.

Slowly he ran his hands back up her thighs and over her hips, loving the contrast of her smooth, creamy skin under his rough, tanned hands. Over her ribs his fingers dance, worshipping every part of her, but before he could reach his prize she touched a finger to his lips, drawing his gaze back to meet hers. The expression he was met with was staggering.

Clint had wondered if he was the only one who felt as he did; if it was only him that had given up on anyone else, only him that waited until they were together again instead of dealing with the dissatisfaction of a one night stand. The look in her eyes proved otherwise, even without the words. She waited for him too, this was just as exclusive for her as it was for him.

His heart was hammering as he softly kissed her fingertip before drawing it into his mouth and sucking gently. His eyes never left hers, not when he gave that finger a little nip, nor when he dropped it. Only when he leaned in to kiss her did he finally break the gaze.

He couldn’t find the words to say it back, not even as simple as “me too”, so he tried to pour everything into that kiss, tried to let her know with his mouth when he kissed her before trailing his lips down over her jaw, her neck, before finally reaching her breasts. Flicking his tongue over one pert nipple he drew it into his mouth while his hand treated the other, cupping her soft mounds and rubbing his thumb over her nipple. She was his, as much as she could be anyone’s but her own, and he wanted to claim every inch of her body just as he wanted to be entirely possessed by her.

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Her own heartbeat started to race as he teased at her finger. The heat that had covered her whole body started to pool between her thighs and there was no ignoring the need that was fast pulling her down into a haze where nothing else mattered except his touch, his touch... only him.

It was as much of The Talk as was going to happen in this moment. It was her first little step and even then she wasn't sure she'd claim it had been concious. The words had been floating out in front of them before she could stop them. The kiss he gave her was all she needed though to know that it wasn't just her.

She was greedy for the kiss and made a small noise of protest when he pulled away but what came next was so much better. She arched as her legs wrapped around Clint, one hand staying on the counter as the other curled around the back of his neck.

The protests were no longer there, her next moan one that was low and full of yearning. If anyone was going to claim her she wanted it to be him. No one could elicit such noises, or make her so willing to lose control. She raked her nails down the back of his neck before pushing her fingers back up into his hair and gripping the short strands tightly as she let out another moan.

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It was so fucking hot seeing her like this. Natasha was usually so cool and restrained and Clint took great pride in causing her to let go. He loved that he could make her moan, make her grasp at him almost desperately. It was honest and it was pure, and god he wanted to drag his tongue over every inch of her, to reacquaint himself with her taste and rediscover all those hidden places that made her gasp and writhe. He wanted to, but it had been far too long since they had been together and he didn’t think he could hold out for anything slow. Later they would have all the time in the world, but right now he needed her, needed to sink into her heat and feel warm again, feel whole again, after so long of feeling cold and broken.

After lavishing the same attention on her other breast he worked his way back up to her lips, the kiss deceptively gentle in the midst of his desire. His hands slid back down to her thighs, his thumbs caressing the soft skin on the insides, just below the junction of her legs.

“Need you,” he whispered against her lips. He wanted her so bad, but only if she was ready. This wasn’t one of their adrenaline fueled fucks against the wall in some rundown motel; this was something else, something more.

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Natasha tried to pull herself back into the present long enough to nod, but it was difficult. Clint really was good at undoing her in all the right ways. She ran her tongue over her bottom as she sat up and cupped his face in her hands. This really was different. It wasn't about burning excess adrenalin or satisfying a base need. It was about the longing, and the wait. About closing the distance that had been between them and perhaps even showing each other exactly how they felt.

She smiled at Clint, her skin flushed and her eyes struggling to focus. But she held his gaze up until the moment she kissed him. It was as gentle as his had been, a tenderness creeping into it that Natasha hadn't demonstrated except when she was taking care of him after an injury.

Her forehead rest against his as one arm slipped from around his neck and she let her hand slide down his abdomen before her fingers wrapped around his hard length and she started to slowly stroke him. "Need you too."

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The way she was looking at him, or at least trying to look at him, tugged at his heart and he all but melted into the kiss. The last few months faded away until there was only this moment, only her kissing him so tenderly and sighing against him.

He only had a moment to meet her eyes again before his own drifted closed when she wrapped her fingers around him. Letting out a low moan his hips involuntarily bucked against her hand as she stroked him, tending to his long neglected needs. Sliding one hand higher he parted her folds with his fingers and slid them along the length of her slit, enjoying how hot and wet she felt, and all for him. Only for him, as she had said herself.

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Natasha moaned at the feel of his fingers, her body giving an involuntary shiver that had her curling her toes. Her own needs had been far from met in recent times. It was his touch she had wanted, not her own. She licked at her lips and tried to swallow but another moan escaped and she tried to pull him in closer with her legs.

"Clint--" So much could be said with just his name, with the tone of her voice as it wrapped around each letter. There was longing, and passion. Love, and trust. She needed him now. She needed the feel of more than his fingers. Another kiss, her tongue probing past his lips as her grip adjusted and she rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock.

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He took a half a step closer at her urgings, his breath hitching at her roaming hand. One word, just his name, spoke volumes about need and passion and the depth of feelings they had yet to truly express. His mouth felt dry and he couldn’t seem to form a reply, but soon she was kissing him again and there was no more need for words.

Moving his hands to her hips he pulled her closer to the edge of the counter while she guided him into position. It was tempting to drive into her all at once, but he made himself take it slow, sinking deeper and deeper into her welcoming heat and relishing in every second of it, every sensation.

It had been so long since they’d been together, since he’d been buried inside of her, their breath intermingling, their bodies pressed close. It was like coming home.

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Natasha exhaled and whispered his name again as he entered her. She broke the kiss as her forehead rest on his shoulder briefly and she took in the feel of him filling her once more. It had been so long and while it seemed the world around them had changed, this hadn't. It still felt right. Still felt like they belonged together.

There was an urge once more to say everything that had been building and lingering since Barton had appeared in her apartment the night before but the words were dying on her lips and the only thing that seemed to matter was their joined bodies.

Natasha teased her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and brought her head back up so she could look at him.

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For a long moment he didn’t move, just letting her adjust to him, letting himself enjoy the feeling of her muscles tight around him. Nothing else ever mattered when they were like this; not the past, not the future, not the world around them. There was only the present, only now, and only them, their bodies, their breaths, their heartbeats.

He met her gaze when she tilted her head back and he thought he could get lost in her eyes, so dark and expressive. Bringing one hand to her face he brushed her hair back behind her ear before cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing softly over her skin. “Tasha...” he murmured, otherwise unmoving.

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Natasha's mouth formed a slight smile as he said her name before her teeth caught her bottom lip and she let out a quiet hum as he caressed her. No, nothing else mattered. No time was passing. No time had passed. It was just the two of them. She smiled again, her own fingers sliding down to move over his back and spine, once more mapping the familiar muscles that moved beneath his skin.

She leaned forward and brushed her lips, not quite a kiss so that she didn't have to break the gaze. Ever since she first saw him, saw those piercing blue eyes, she knew something was going to change. She had struggled to trust anyone and then SHIELD had sent this archer after her and in the midst of fighting, she had realised she could trust him. He'd given her a second chance.

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The mood was so heavy, so intense, that Clint thought the weight of it might crush him. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, and her eyes held him in an unbreakable gaze, not that he wanted to break free.

He thought he could stay like this forever, sheathed in her warmth and lost in her eyes, but slowly he began to move in short thrusts, barely pulling out before pushing in again.

[bozhemoi]

Her mouth was parted in a permanent silent moan as he moved, each stroke however short causing a near unbearable friction. The build to this moment, the wait to be with Clint again, heightened every sensation. She was just as equally lost in his eyes, her mind filled with nothing but him. His scent, his touch, his warmth, his taste.

She kissed him as much as she dared, wanting to hold his gaze as much as she could. They were joined now. So much more than partners and teammates. How did they ever think that they could keep the physical seperate the the professional? There was nowhere left for Natasha to hide now. Everything she felt was written across her face and in her eyes, in each breath she took and touch of his skin.

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Being this close to her, being surrounded by her in every way, Clint couldn’t recall why he had been so resistant. How could he have thought that this would have been a bad idea in any way? How could it further confuse things, or be too fast or be the wrong choice when it felt so right? This was where he belonged; with her was where he belonged, and there was no doubt she felt the same. He could see it in her eyes, could feel it in her touch. This wasn’t just need or desire; it wasn’t just reassurance that he was okay and he was back. There was so much more to it, it was so much deeper, stronger.

He picked up the pace a little, a few pleasured noises escaping his lips. Somewhere along the line Natasha had become the most important part of his life, the one thing he never wanted to be without, and he was tired of pretending otherwise.

[bozhemoi]

She could never really claim it took her by surprise. That these feelings for Clint that ran so deep had snuck up on her. Everything she had done, everything they'd had contributed to it. Natasha had only ever lied about being able to keep work separated from pleasure. With Clint, the lines were bound to blur. They opened up a path they couldn't come back from and right now, she knew she didn't want to. She didn't want to go back to how it had been. She wanted to push ahead and find out what it could be.

Natasha moaned his name quietly. There was no chance of them being overheard but the atmosphere that had been created kept them relatively muted. She drew him in for another kiss, her hands roaming over his back as she tried to touch all of him at once.