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Moon light filters softly into the room. A gentle breeze rolling off the water brings with it a cool salinity that calms nerves and stirs the sheer curtains at the open windows. Clint stands nearby, just behind one of the framed doors, shrouded in shadow, looking out over the churning sea and empty sand beach below. Eyes flicking from boulder to boulder for ill fated movement, an old habit yet to die.
His mind races regardless of the stillness of the night. The last mission still fresh in his mind, his hands feel unclean, coated in blood, his muscles tense and ready for a danger that isn’t coming. A sigh brings him back to the present, to the soft blues and creams of the room around him, to the plush over sized bed meant for two.
This is supposed to be a time of peace and of healing; a time of pleasure.
Behind him, laying on the bed, deep in sleep, and scantily wrapped up in only a thin sheet is the love of his life: Natasha. Her breathing regular and slow, loose red curls splayed wild across the pillow; the sight calls to him.
She hums, somewhere between sleep and awake as his weight dips the bed slightly. His fingers glide down her arm, over the scratches and cuts that are already healing scabs, joining the multitudes of other markings she already has.
“You joining me or just fascinated by watching me actually sleep for once?” Natasha mumbles, her smirk pulling into a lazy smile, though her eyes remain shut.
“Might join you, might just keep watch a little longer.”
“Clint, we’re safe here. There’s no need.”
“There’s always a need, Nat.”
“Not here, not now. Come back to bed.”
“Nat.”
“Please.”
A statement instead of a question. Her unspoken words linger between them. His muscles rigid for a new reason. He’s playing with a fire as bright as her hair. He hasn’t reacted, refusing to, wanting and waiting to see who will cave first in their equally exhausted states.
Natasha sits up, allowing the sheet to fall from her frame exposing her soft curves to the temperate night air. Her fingers sink into his hair, nails scratching his scalp as she draws him nearer, his eyes fluttering shut with the sensation rippling down his spine.
“Nat…”
Her parted lips ghost over his, toy, teasing, sharing breath. She moves up his jaw, nipping lightly and licking along the path to his ear.
“Still don’t want to join me?” She whispers pulling away from him, her eyelids heavy with lust.
“You know I do.” Clint chases her lips, finally capturing them with his own in a heated kiss. “I don’t care where I’m sleeping, as long as it’s with you.”
“Good.”
Her arms snake further around his body, drawing them closer together. He lets her pull him to the bed, they melting into each other as the kiss continues and deepens. His body ruts against hers, in a silent plea. They roll to the center of the bed, sheet abandoned and clothes stripped. Together, finding a rhythmic peace amid a world of chaos.
Regardless of all they’ve been through together, these little moments filled with honesty, trust, and sprinkled with love, are what keep them both going: they are the sweetest reward life has to offer.