Work Text:
Clint worked the dye through Natasha’s hair gently, not wanting to wake her up just yet. She had just come back from a mission in Russia, and it had brought up some painful memories. When Clint found her, she was shuffling through all the boxes of dye she has. Natasha likes to dye her hair. She doesn’t do it often, only when the memories get too hard to ignore. She hadn’t dyed it in over a year, which Clint was immensely proud of.
When he entered the bathroom, she had wordlessly handed him the box of dye she chose and threw off her shirt. He sat next to her and go to work quickly. Natasha’s forehead had fallen onto his shoulder, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her up so he could finish it. Eventually, he kissed her cheek and woke her up.
After washing her hair, he watched as she threw it in a towel and walked over to him. She grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers. “Thank you,” she whispered, gazing up at him. Clint smiled at her gently before leading her over to the bed. He grabbed her favourite book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, and crawled into bed with her. Natasha looked absolutely adorable, she had her reading glasses on (yes she has reading glasses) and had blankets piled up on her lap. She looked so cosy. Clint sat next to her, pulling her to his side and putting his arm around her, and opened the book to the chapter they were on. She rested her head on his shoulder again and placed her hand over his heart.
Clint started to read out loud, and he looked down to see Natasha following the words with her eyes as he said them, although her eyes looked sort of glazed over. He started to feel Natasha move even closer to him and tiny drops of liquid fall onto his shoulder repeatedly. Clint continued reading, just tightened his grip on her. That was how they stayed for the rest of the night, and when morning came, Natasha disappeared into the bathroom. She came out five minutes later with her makeup done, and her now black hair flowing down her shoulders. She had a pair of scissors in her hand. “I want to cut my hair.” She stated simply, and Clint got up to help her.
He was in no way an expert of cutting hair, but Natasha doesn’t like going to the salon, so he cut her hair quite often. When he asked her why she doesn’t like going to get her hair cut, she replied with, “I don’t want strangers touching me.” Clint ran a brush through her hair until it was smooth and got to work.
“How short?”
“Collarbone? She met his eyes in the mirror, question in them.
“Sure.” he kissed her cheek and watched as she smiled that small smile that he loves and that only appears for him. It was a soft private smile, a natural one which she doesn’t use very much but when she does it makes his love for her grow even more.
Tony had seen Natasha shoot him one of those smiles before, and he got very curious as to what was going on between them. Natasha had to destroy multiple security cameras in her room before Tony finally gave up trying to spy on them. However, he didn’t give up teasing them.
An hour later, Natasha’s hair was cut and they were both dressed. They could hear talking coming from the communal kitchen that they shared with the rest of the team. When they entered, the chatter ceased immediately. “Woah,” Tony breathed. “What happened to you, Romanoff?”
“I changed my hair,” she said simply, stalking over to the coffee machine. She sighed in relief when she checked it, black coffee. Her favourite.
“Why?” She heard Steve complain. “I liked your red hair.”
“Relax, Rogers, it’s not permanent. I just..” Natasha paused. “I just needed a change.”
“Well, in my opinion you look hotter with your red hair.” Tony smirked as she turned around, sipping her coffee, and Bruce slapped him on the back of the head. “Ow. Rude.” He grumbled to himself, rubbing his head. Bruce shook his head hopelessly.
“Hey, Nat, you want to go for a run?” Steve said, getting up. Natasha saw Clint’s eyebrows shoot up at the nickname, and even Natasha was shocked.
“Uh, yeah sure, just give me five minutes.” Steve nodded and left the room. Nursing her cup of coffee, she too left the room.
“Nat? I think our captain here has got a crush.” She heard Tony tease as soon as she was out of their line of vision, a second slap could be heard, and Natasha smirked. However, her mind was nagging at her. Why did Rogers call her Nat? They’d only known each other for a few months, and they barely talked. What if Tony was right? Did he have a crush on her? She shook the thought out of her mind. She had to admit that the Captain was sort-of good looking, but she could never imagine herself having a crush on him.
Natasha and Steve ran through Central Park together twice, and Natasha was starting to get tired. In more ways then one. Instead of running his full speed, Steve was running her slower so he could talk to her. Which, in hindsight should have been what alerted her to his feelings, but she wasn’t really focusing.
She quickly got tired of his talking, so she stopped focusing, opting to murmur a few sounds that sound like she’s listening.
A hand on her shoulder drew her back to the present. “Nat? You listening?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” She said, slowing down. Steve stopped.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be? I’m just getting tired.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want to take a break?”
“Sure.” He led her to a nearby bench and sat down on it. They sat in silence for a while as Natasha sipped her water and calmed herself down. Her legs were killing her, so she stretched them out, trying to loosen the muscles in them.
“Hey, uh, Nat?”
“Yeah?” She turned to see Steve’s cheeks bright red and his hands playing in his lap.
“I was wondering if uh,” he cleared his throat and Natasha’s heart sank. “If you would want to grab dinner sometime? Maybe tonight?”
Oh god. Natasha had prayed this didn’t happen, but clearly fate was against her. If it wasn’t already. She opened her mouth then closed it again, not sure what to say. No one had ever asked her out before, and for a good reason, too. She doesn’t date, hates it. It’s unnecessary.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got a movie night with Clint tonight.” The lie came out of her mouth easily, and she shut her eyes tightly.
“Oh, okay. Maybe some other time then?”
“I-I don’t think so.” She opened her eyes and saw Steve’s face fall. She cursed herself. “ It’s not you. I just don’t really do the whole dating thing, you know.”
“That’s perfectly reasonable. I’m sorry for asking.” Before she could open her mouth again he started walking off. She knows she did just reject him, but he was being a bit over the top, walking away like a wounded puppy. It’s not her fault she’s not into him.
Later that day, while sitting in bed watching a movie with Clint, she opened up to him about what happened. While she was talking, he didn’t interrupt and just listened, his hand lightly stroking up and down her arm and making the little hairs stand up. When she finished, they sat in silence for a while.
Natasha began to regret telling him, although she tells him almost everything, as the silence grew. Eventually, Clint started to speak, “Tash,” he paused. “Have you ever wanted to be with someone in a romantic way?”
Natasha looked up at him. His face was thoughtful, and she carefully considered the question. “Like sexually?”
“Or romantically. Either.”
“I, uh, I don’t know I…” she trailed off, not knowing how to answer. She‘s never really had any choice on who her sexual partners are, and she doesn’t remember ever enjoying sex. She’s never been on a real date either, other than the ones she had to go on with her marks.
“Ok, let me rephrase it. When Steve asked you out, why did you say no?”
“Because I don’t like him. Not like that.” She said simply, confused as to where he was going with this.
“Would you say that to anyone if they asked?”
Clint’s question confused her, how can she know if she’s never experienced it? Sure, she’s had men catcall her and cop a feel before, but they’ve never asked her on a date. She started to feel uncomfortable, and she wiggled out of his arms, her cheeks starting to redden. A look of surprise crossed his face, and she felt her body deflate.
“Clint,” she whispered, locking eyes with him. “I don’t know, okay? It’s confusing me and I don’t know how to answer because I’ve never thought about this before. I’ve never even been asked on a date, so how am I supposed to know why I rejected Steve?”
“Hey, hey, sweetheart. You don’t have to answer.” Clint grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too far.”
Natasha smiled that same small smile again, and Clint pulled her towards him, spreading his legs and letting her sit between them, her back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer than he could given their position, and he felt Natasha’s nose nuzzle the side of his neck.
“You’re adorable, you know that?” He murmured as he watched the images of some shitty action movie flash across the screen. A huff of breath hit his neck as she chuckled.
“You’re pretty cute yourself, Barton.” She settled against him comfortably and closed her eyes, feeling safe and warm.
When Natasha woke up, she was confused. Sitting up and looking over at the clock on Clint’s bedside table, she sighed. It was 6:15am. What had woken her up?
As if to answer her question, there was a loud knock on the door, making her jump. A voice travelled through the door, “Hey, birdbrain! Get out of bed!” It was Tony. “Also, do you know where Natasha is? She’s not in her room.”
Natasha looked over at Clint. He was passed out next to her, right arm splayed out from when she was tucked in his embrace. When Tony knocked again, she shook her head and went to open the door. It didn’t seem like Clint was going to wake up anytime soon.
When she opened the door, Tony took a step back, clearly not expecting someone to open it. Especially not her. “What do you want.” She said, eyes boring into his.
“Why are you in Clint’s room? Did you sleep here?” Tony asked, his mouth hanging open slightly.
“Yes I did, what’s it to you?” Tony’s face formed into a ridiculous smirk, and she sighed, head falling. “What do you want?” She ground out.
“Oh um, Fury’s here. He wants to talk to you two. He’s rather impatient today.”
“Alright. Thanks.” She shut the door in his face before he could say another word, and she walked back to the bed.
Climbing back under the thin covers and shuffling back into Clint’s warmth. She slid her arm around his waist and buried her head in his neck, lips brushing his neck softly as she rubbed her face against him. “Wake up sleepyhead,” she breathed into his ear. He shifted, arm coming around her waist and pulling her further against him tightly. She giggled rather girlishly as he began to tickle under her arms and she pushed his arm away, rolling out of his hold.
“Come on sleeping beauty, Fury’s here. We gotta go.” He groaned, but got out of bed anyway.
Ten minutes later they were sitting in the Avengers common room with Fury pacing in front of them. They exchanged glances, and Clint made a face at her. She brought her hand up to her mouth to hide her smile.
“Agents.” Fury said, finally turning to them. “I’ve got a mission for you.” He sighed. Seeing her face, he added. “I know, Agent Romanoff that you have just returned but this mission can only be done by you two.”
“Why?” Clint asked, his eyebrows meeting in the middle.
“Because it’s a level eight.”
“What?” Natasha sat up straighter. There has only been one level eight mission before, and Fury himself had to call in international help.
“What is it?” Clint had joined her in adjusting his posture.
“We have received a nuclear bomb threat. Two, to be exact. Now this wouldn’t normally worry us, most of the time they’re just threats. However, this has come directly from Russia, and they want you two.”
“Why do they want us?” Natasha had sunk back into the couch she was sitting on, her brain moving too quickly for her to catch up.
“Because you’re valuable. Unless we give you over by tomorrow morning, they will release those bombs.”
Clint looked at her, any trace of humour gone and she stared right back. Not a word passed between them, but they share the same thought.
Fuck.