#archerydisaster

At this point, Kate Bishop is a couch surfer in Clint’s apartment. Except for she’s in his bed. And she’s having sex with him. She doesn’t pay rent, but she buys the groceries, she’s not allowed to cook anymore because of the tuna accident of November tenth. So Clint cooks most nights when they don’t order out. (No I’m buying food and we’re cooking we can’t live on pizza alone. But Katie-- no.) They don’t talk about what their relationship is now, because they’re both afraid that if there’s a label... then it’ll go to hell.

She wakes up earlier before him every morning. while he habitually sleeps in until whenever she gets bored since Lucky’ll take her spot when she gets up to shower in the morning to leave him with cold water depending on when he decides to shower himself.

She’s up like every other morning, Lucky at her feet and just a sliver of morning light sliding over and across the room, hitting neither of their eyes. She wakes up, shifting from having her arm secured around Clint to find he’s rolled over onto his stomach when he was sleeping.

It’s the first time, she thinks, she’s properly seen his back. With him relaxed, no rush to put his shirt on and not in the throes of sex. Yeah, they’ve showered together after missions, before and after their new.... what ever it is, but she’s never been in a position to see it all properly.

It’s matted with knotted, scarred flesh, she can see his muscles move as he breathes still, the curve of his neck follows to his shoulders and some are more faded than others. Some newer from mission with her and the Avengers. She’s sitting, up, pulling the comforter that she’s stolen in the night around herself and her bare skin pricks in goosebumps as she shifts and the cold air moves around she lets her hands warm up against her own sides before she pokes them out of the blanket and gentle fingers begin to trace over the worst of them, and then to others, following from shoulder to shoulder.

She can tell some of the older (and the worst) of them are made with a belt buckle, and she gently traces them as she hears him shift awake, her fingers find the notches of his spine and gently trace from the base of his neck, slowly down. Kate lets him roll back onto his side and let him after she presses a firm kiss between his shoulder blades, her fingers finding his ribs and letting her fingers glide up and down between them.

“You woke me up--” it’s groused and said with a slight smile from Clint, eyes closed still, “No I didn’t” Kate whispers backs, stroking her fingers through his hair how he likes, “No you didn’t” he agrees, tugging her to lay back down. She wraps her arms around him, thumbing over the scars gently still.