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Clint woke up to red. Soft red curls that tickled his nose and stuck against his lips. He smiled a bit and ran his fingers through the curls. Clint propped himself up on his elbow and kissed Natasha’s forehead. He climbed out of bed, covering her with blankets, and pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.
Clint was silent when he made his way down to the industrial sized kitchen. It wasn’t because it was 6 am, Clint was always quiet. He pulled three forty-pound turkeys he had marinating in one of the fridges. The marinade was his own special blend of spices, herbs, and wine. He turned on all four parts of the two double ovens they had.
“Want some help?”
Clint smiled softly. “Go back to bed Tash, I got this.”
Natasha wrapped her arms around his middle. “You’re cooking for a small army. You need help.”
“You only got in four hours ago. You need sleep.” Clint turned in her arms and kissed her softly. “Go back to bed.”
She smiled. “You know I can work with under three hours of sleep.”
He returned her sly smile. “I do know that.”
“What can I do?”
Clint kissed her slow and sweet. “Anything you’d like.”
Natasha nodded and set about making dough for bread and pies.
Twenty minutes later with the turkeys in the oven and the dough set to rise Clint picked Natasha up, holding her close.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To the couch.” He crawled on top of it, pulling her on top of him.
She smiled and kissed him.
An hour later Steve found them on the couch, Natasha cuddled up to Clint and fast asleep. Clint waved to him. Steve smiled and waved back. “What are you doing out here?”
“Cooking.”
Steve looked confused.
“Turkey’s in the oven, waiting for the dough to finish rising.”
“Turkey?” Understanding crossed his handsome face. “You’re making Thanksgiving dinner?”
He nodded.
“Can I help?”
Clint shrugged. “If you want to.”
Steve nodded. “I make a good Sweet Potato Shepherd’s Pie. I need to go find a grocery store.” He ran off.
Clint chuckled and pulled Natasha closer.
By the time Steve got back Natasha was putting loaves of bread in the oven. Clint was lining pie pans with dough.
“Morning.” He said happily.
“Morning. Is Clint letting you help cook?” Natasha mused.
“Yes he is.” Steve pulled his ingredients out of the reusable shopping bags. The three of them moved through the kitchen like they’d done this for years. Steve did notice that Clint and Natasha touched each other more than was needed, but he was too smart to say anything.
Natasha put the pies in the fridge to bake later while Steve put his Shepherd’s pie in the remaining oven.
Bruce shuffled in and stopped in his tracks. “What are you guys doing?”
“Cooking.” Clint opened the fridge to grab some milk and chocolate syrup. He made two glasses of chocolate milk and poured two glasses of white milk.
“Cooking for what?” Bruce scratched his head.
Natasha handed off the two regular milks to Steve and Bruce, taking the one with the little extra chocolate for herself.
“It’s Thanksgiving.” Steve explained.
“Oh, I see.” He shifted his weight. “Would you like help?”
“Only if you want to help.”
“Sure, it could be fun.” He nervously took a sip of his milk.
Natasha looked at him. “Bruce, you don’t have to.”
“No I want to.”
Clint nodded and moved over to make counter space.
Bruce pulled out an assortment of vegetables, spices, and oils. He threw them together in a dish and put them in one of the ovens.
Clint sat down at the table and started to peel potatoes. Natasha joined him, her feet in his lap. When they were done peeling and part way into chopping the potatoes Thor joined their merry group.
“FRIENDS! ARE YOU GATHERING WITHOUT ME?”
“Easy big guy, we’re just cooking.” Clint mused.
“I SEE THAT! BUT WITHOUT ME!”
“Would you like to join us?” Natasha smiled at him.
Thor scratched his beard. “Yes, yes I would.” He walked over to them. “What sort of cooking brings you all together?”
“It’s Thanksgiving.” Steve explained.
Thor just looked at him confused as ever. “A midgardian thing?”
“Yes it is. It’s one of our holidays. It’s when family gets together, has a feast, and celebrates everything they’re thankful for.” Steve told him.
“Ah! I see! I do love feasts! And drinking with friends! I wish to help!”
“Want to make mashed potatoes?” Clint asked.
“How do I do that?”
Clint handed him a mallet and a bowl full of potatoes. “Use this to mash these all up.”
Thor grinned and grabbed the items. He started singing as he mashed.
Clint stole a kiss from Natasha before heading back into the kitchen.
She made him jump by grabbing his ass.
The four of them listened to Thor sing as they made side dishes and other goodies.
Tony walked in around 11, heading for the coffee.
“Back! Stay out of my kitchen!”
Tony looked around startled.
Clint was holding a wooden mixing spoon at him like it was a knife. “Back!”
“It’s my kitchen!”
“Not today! You go away!”
“I want my coffee!”
Steve put on a pot. “Go sit down. I’ll bring it to you.”
Tony walked away grumbling. “What’s his problem?”
“Last time you tried to help cook you broke the ovens and burned all the food.” Bruce looked at him.
“So?”
“So Clint doesn’t want you to burn all the food and destroy our Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Is that today?”
Bruce shrugged. “So I was told.”
Steve walked out with a cup of coffee. “Natasha says you have to set the table.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You need to help out too Stark.”
Tony just made a face. He sat down at the table to drink his first cup.
“Now Tony.”
Tony stuck his tongue out but got up and set the table.
By one all the food was cooked and set out on their long table. Tony took his self-proclaimed seat at the head of the table, Steve on left and Bruce on his right. Thor took the seat next to Bruce while Natasha took the one between Clint and Steve.
They had enough food for more than twenty people, which was good when you had a god of thunder at the table. Clint cleverly set one of the turkeys right in front of him.
It took them over seven hours cook and less than two to eat everything. It was one of the best dinners the Avengers had with one another. The top shelf alcohol helped a bit too. They managed to put the dishes in the dishwasher before slugging over to the couches.
Tony put on the football game for Steve and Thor. Bruce sat in the recliner sleeping off his turkey coma. Natasha grabbed a blanket and curled up against a passed out Clint on the couch.
The second holiday they all spent together went down as a good one.