Chapter Text
Since she’d put it in his head, Clint couldn’t stop thinking about what it was that kept Natasha from wanting him to penetrate her. Clint really hadn’t given it more consideration other than the fact that she wasn’t interested and had moved on. It was the way it stuck in her craw that had him thinking. And smoking. He still had some of the herbal treat he’d bought at the beginning of his vacation despite the serious smoke out he’d had with Natasha on day one. This would be coming to an end soon and Clint was incredibly melancholy about that. “Penny for your thoughts,” Natasha asked as she climbed out onto the fire escape with him.
“I’d owe you change,” Clint lied as he patted the milk crate next to his. Sometimes he had a neighbor that came around and they’d drink beers and listen to the game. It was pretty nice actually, when Clint was around. “Sit down. Enjoy the weather.” She’d been in the kitchen fussing over something while he was out here thinking.
“I smelled it,” she nodded to the joint in Clint’s hand, “and made you something.” From the other side of the wall, Natasha brought a plate with a giant sandwich and a bunch of chips on it. She set it on the crate and reached back inside. She came out with a coke and a beer, setting them both down before she sat on the crate, clearly knowing he’d have picked the food up by then.
“Ham?” Natasha nodded. “Mustard?” She nodded. “Mayo?”
“Are you going to list the contents of the fridge or are you going to eat the sandwich?” They had tickets later tonight to a show. It was some band she enjoyed and it was at a bar, those were the only two things Clint needed to know to decide it was worth his while. He took a big bite of the sandwich, wiping the anticipation from her face as he gave her a big thumbs up. It was good. Natasha could be incredibly generous and care so deeply. If only everyone saw her as he did. “So… I had an idea,” Natasha told Clint.
“Yeah,” he asked between bites, dribbling some mustard down his chin.
“I want to tie you up.”
On one hand, Clint was glad for the warning. If Natasha really wanted to, he had no doubt she could figure out how to get the upper hand. On the other hand, that she was thinking about that and was this nervous to talk about it was weird to him. “Ok.”
“… Clint,” Natasha asked. “Do you… do you get why?”
“Do I get that a woman with staggering trust issues who has clearly been significantly mistreated by people she trusted, specifically men, would want to restrain a man almost twice her size in order to be confident enough to do something she doesn’t have to do in the first place?” Clint followed it by popping a chip in his mouth. “Yeah, I get it,” he said around a bite. Clint had to say, the look on her face was one he was tucking away for his memories.
“… um… yeah.” She was looking out at the setting sun, her hair pulled back loosely at the nape of her neck.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ….” He reached out to take her hand, getting Natasha to look at him. “And, just so you know, if you ever want to hunt any of the guys on your shit list down… I’ve got your six.” Clint brought the back of her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles before refocusing on the sandwich.
“You are an exceptional man, Clint.” He hated it when she talked like this, when she got so earnest he could almost see the little girl she might have been had the Red Room not snapped her up. “And it wouldn’t have to be the whole time, just long enough for me to…” It was clearly killing her to talk about this. It was killing him to not finish her sentence, but he knew she had to be the one to speak for herself. “I trust you.”
“I know you do.” Clint set the plate down on the grates beneath their feet, pulling her over to sit straddling him. “And that’s why I’m going to show you a knot I have particular difficulty with.” They both knew handcuffs and zip ties wouldn’t work because they could both slip out of those. It was going to have to be ropes, scarves, something like that. “I… don’t have any bondage equipment lying around, though. Typically not my idea of fun.”
She poked his shoulder hard. “Believe me, when I get to the point that I want to tie you up for fun, your eyes are going to roll up in your head.” He believed her. “Chips?” She opened the bag and offered it to him. Clint smiled a mustardy smile and stuck his hand in.
“Oh… Barebeque… fuckin’ perfect.” Clint leaned over and kissed her in appreciation, a quick peck to the temple before he tucked back into his sandwich. Natasha just watched him, a little too still for it to be natural. He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, maybe he’d even done something right because she slid in closer, resting her head on his chest as Clint finished his sandwich and watched the sun finish setting.
She turned at some point, settling in a little closer. Clint was done with his sandwich, so he pulled her over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We should leave by eight thirty,” Natasha told Clint as he stroked her hair. He made sure he didn’t get any chip dust in her hair. Girls didn’t like that and even though Natasha wasn’t a normal girl, she probably still wouldn’t like it very much. “That’s nice.” Clint kept stroking her hair, feeling Natasha relax against him. Clint was incredibly proud of the fact that she did this with him. Hypervigilant wasn’t even the word when she was with other men.
“Hold on two seconds,” Clint pulled back, getting a pout from her as he put down his sandwich and chips. He was mostly done anyway. He tossed the blanket she’d left out here yesterday on the iron grates, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad. “Sit.” Natasha shrugged and followed his instructions, leaning back against him as Clint’s fingers plunged into her hair. The moment she realized that he was going to rub her head and shoulders, Natasha was 100% in. They relaxed there for quite awhile Natasha only moving when she wanted him to shift what he was doing. Otherwise, she let him work.
“Why are you so nice to me?” Natasha didn’t look at him when she asked the question, not even when he considered how to answer it.
“You’re my best friend,” Clint told her. “I think that’s reason enough.”
“But why, Clint?” She finally turned, moving from the grates to sit on his knee, arm snaking around his neck. “What made you like me enough to be your best friend?”
“What are you fishing for?”
“I”m not… ok,” she admitted. “Maybe a little. Sometimes I just don’t get you.”
“I’m a man of mystery.”
“I tried to kill you the first time we met.”
Clint shrugged, “that happens more than you’d think.” He did have a real winning personality after all. “Natasha,” his hands went to her waist. “If you’re wondering why I’m nice to you, why I take time with you, why you rate…. Well, you see, years ago there was this street urchin…”
“I was not a street urchin.”
“Who’s telling the story?” Clint leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Nah… I told you, I looked through my scope and I saw you. You were unguarded and I could see how tired you were.”
“So you love me because I was tired?”
“No, I am saying I didn’t pull the trigger because you looked tired.” Clint’s arms wrapped around Natasha’s waist. “I saw that you needed someone to give you a choice.” Clint knew he was right, with her upbringing who knew how often she’d been given an actual choice. Clint remembered how thin Natasha looked and how she’d struggled to eat in the small diner he’d taken her to. SHIELD had cleared the place for them and Coulson was in back cooking. Fury hadn’t gotten there yet and all they were doing was trying to give her a space to breathe.
“I love that you saw that in me.” She’d told him that suicide had been on her mind for weeks before he’d pulled her in. Clint strongly suspected that it had been far longer than just a few weeks. “I love you.” Her fingers carded through his hair before she leaned in and kissed him slow and deep. Though he could feel the tears she shed, when he opened his eyes there was no trace of moisture. Clint’s fingers ran down her cheekbone until she turned to kiss the tips of his fingers. “I don’t want to go to the show.” She leaned in and kissed him, wrapping her legs around his waist and holding on. Clint kissed her slow and deep, one hand running up the small of her back, pushing the t-shirt she was wearing up. Natasha pressed her forehead to his, taking a slow, deep breath. “Clint,” she whispered his name like she was telling him a secret. It brought up gooseflesh, and rightfully so. Her fingertips ran down his neck as she pressed her lips to his ear and spoke. “I want you to take me inside and show me that knot.”