"Is that my shirt?"
*blows on fingers and cracks knuckles* This one BEGGED for some clintasha wonderfulness which fits my mood perfectly (see my early post about clintasha longing lol)
“Is that my shirt?” Clint asked sleepily as he blinked blearily at the letters now emblazoned across Natasha’s shoulder blades.
Natasha tossed him an amused look over her shoulder as she pulled the t-shirt down to cover the rest of her torso and then reached to pull her long hair out of the collar. A moment later a curtain of red waves had covered the faded block letters.
“You can recognize your own name? Impressive,” she teased. But then explained flippantly, “I can’t find mine.”
She stood then and pulled a pair of plaid boxers up over her hips, rolling the band a few times to keep them in place. The sight had the last remnants of sleep fading away in a flash.
“Are those my boxers?” he asked, smirking as he propped himself up on his elbow. “Let me guess...can’t find your underwear?”
The look she set him now was nothing but sultry.
“Mine are right over there,” she nodded to a spot on the floor that Clint didn’t break eye contact to check.
He stared at her. She stared right back.
This was new territory for them. They’d only been together for a couple of weeks and until now they - Natasha especially - had been pretty conscious of keeping certain boundaries. She hadn’t so much as left a toothbrush in his quarters and he’d done his best not to violate her space either. Though he knew he’d been slipping. He couldn’t find his Yankees hat and he was pretty sure it was somewhere in her room.
So sharing clothing? It hadn’t really come up.
She was watching him more closely now, waiting for a reaction. Anybody else might not have noticed the vague note of tension in her posture as she waited - she was trained to hide such things after all - but he could see it. She was worried she’d crossed a line.
But Clint had grown up with very few personal boundaries. And besides, there was absolutely nothing bad about seeing her wearing his clothes.
“It’s a good look,” he commented, raking his eyes up and down her body, lingering for a moment on her exposed legs before raising his gaze back to meet hers.
Her smile was a bit tentative, but growing in confidence by the second.
“Yeah?” she asked with a coy arch to her brow.
Clint smirked.
“I mean, if we’re being honest, I prefer you in nothing but if clothes are unavoidable I can definitely get used to a view like this.”
Natasha was the one smirking now as she slowly made her way back to the bed, climbing onto it and throwing a leg over his hips. She pushed him back onto the bed so she could straddle him properly.
“Weren’t you going somewhere?” he teased, hands already sliding under the back of the t-shirt.
She leaned down and pressed a promising kiss to his jaw.
“It can wait.”
