It was the most natural thing in the world to raise his brows at Natashaâs tease as the priest went on, anticipation bubbling up in his chest. Everything felt unreal, something out of a dream, while simultaneously being the realest thing heâd felt in years. And then Natasha started.Â
And, yeah, almost, almost made him cry. Clint had to clench his jaw and blink the emotion away, knowing his mouth was twisting a bit, becauseâthey didnât really talk like this, not often. It was all just understood. But if there was ever a time to spill everything twisted all up inside their headsâŠ
He huffed a laugh at the way Natasha ended her vows, the good-heavy tension of the moment broken. The priest took a beat to make sure she was done before continuing, sayingâwhatever it was he said (that Natasha would translate). Before turning to him, and Clint knew it was his cue.Â
âWhen I met you, I thought Iâd never be doing this again,â Clint chuckled, nodding his head towardsâeverything. âAnd to be honest, even though you were probably the prettiest, smartest, most dangerous little thing Iâd ever seen, that didnât change for a long time. Because I didnât want to push, and I honestly thought friendship would be enough, because Natasha⊠Youâre the best friend Iâve ever had.â And wasnât that the crux of it? âBefore everything else. Iâd never known anyone half as loyal, who loves even half as hard as you do, until I met you. And especially not to me. It was like⊠I couldnât believe it, at first. That Iâd be so lucky. That youâd let me, yeah, find a home in you, and build you one right back. I donât know if I can promise you that weâll have this forever, âTasha, or that weâll ever get to be old, but I can promise it as long as Iâm alive. This is it for me. You are it for me. Wherever you go, Iâll follow. Right there, covering your six, through the good and the bad.â His mouth quirked, hands squeezing hers. âCanât wait for a lifetime of blowing things up and trash TV.âÂ
He turned back to the priest, who said something and motioned to Natasha.
....
The swell of emotion washing over her was not unexpected, considering the setting and the stage, though Natasha still found herself unprepared for it. Talking was not really their thing, and everything they felt was so often unsaid in a comfortable, easy way. Natasha knew that she loved him, knew that he loved her in return, and words were messy. Words were so messy, and despite knowing how she felt and knowing that how much she loved Clint would always ring true, sheâd been more nervous than sheâd been in years when it came to putting vows together - as luck would have it, the flowed with no hesitation or hiccups, came just as effortlessly as loving him every day did.
Blinking away misty vision (because she would be damned if she had smeared mascara for her wedding, even for a moment) and quietly clearing her throat as she reached to open the tiny white clutch sheâd collected at a thrift store to match the dress. âMy turn again,â she began, voice wavering a little as slim fingers worked quickly to retrieve the ring sheâd selected for clint from the velvet box inside - platinum, simple with a beveled outer edge for more of a matte finish, practical considering that was an outright demand in their line of work. It felt heavy in her hand, and she took in a slight and subtle breath as she reached across the small space between them to take his left hand.
âI, Natalia Alianovna Romanova,â she began with an easy (if a little watery, still misty despite her efforts), âNatasha Romanoff and everything in between, take you, Clinton Francis Barton,â that grin grew a few degrees warmer, wider, spreading naturally across her face, âto be my husband, my life, my heart. I used to think that love was for children, a fairy tale, and you showed me otherwise. So hereâs to our fairy tale,â she slipped the ring onto his finger, a perfect fit, just as sheâd intended, âfull of explosions, pizza, bad trashy TV and jumping off buildings together until the end of the line.â