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They do this occasionally. She’ll slink into his room, maybe they’ll have been drinking – but it always leads to the same thing. They want it – of course they do. It’s conveniently desirable, and they’re both up for it, so why not?

Natasha is in Clint’s bed, wrapped around him as he kisses her. They are slowly shedding their clothes, bit by bit, hands roaming all over the place. She loves the feel of his hard muscles under her fingers as she slides a hand beneath his shirt. His groans are telling enough, and soon he is pressed up against her, both of them naked.

“Good to go?” he grins. She just grins back, sprawled beneath him in all her glory. She likes to be on top now and then, but sometimes it’s nice to let him do all the work.

“C’mon, don’t keep a girl waiting,” she teases. He grins again, and lines up, pushing slowly into her. She sighs, happy enough to be under him again.

He’s always quite good, and tonight is no exception. He begins to thrust, and his hand slips down between her legs to caress her. Soon she is moaning into his hair as he kisses her neck – wait, is he kissing her neck?

She opens her eyes and yes, his lips are pressing against her neck. Odd, he doesn’t usually do that. She shrugs inwardly and lets him go for it. Whatever feels good.

Soon she becomes aware of something else. Where he usually shifts onto his knees, he is still pressed against her, lying on top of her really. One hand grips her thigh, holding her leg around his waist, and the other is rolling her breast in his fingers. It’s pleasurable, that’s for sure, but it’s just odd... he’s never usually this affectionate. That combined with the neck kissing... it’s almost like he’s holding her to him.

It strikes her all at once. He’s not fucking her – not as per their arrangement. Clint’s making love to her. Just as she thinks this, he raises his head and kisses her deeply. She can feel the affection in the kiss, and she closes her eyes.

She doesn’t want this, does she? Does this mean Clint has feelings for her?

He slides his fingers back between her legs and suddenly she no longer cares what he’s doing, only that he doesn’t stop.

Hours later, when he’s fallen asleep, she lies with her head on his chest, thinking. Maybe it would be for the best if they stopped, just went back to being partners as usual.

Then he wraps his arms around her in his sleep and murmurs her name, and Natasha knows that there’s no escaping this.