starter for @spcnscr
Split or stay - it's rarely a question Natasha has to ask herself and the rare times she has, it's always split. She doesn't do morning afters; they're only cute when you know someone enough to offer some vulnerability to.
Vulnerability she's already inadvertently shown to Clay. He had gamely handed over the cash when she beat him squarely at pool and with that cute smile of his, she'd happily accepted his offer to buy a round. Conversation had flown from there; annoyances from the few days spent with her eldest brother and two kids, more than a few tales from her childhood, and a couple of mentions of some memorable college parties that had nearly gotten in her trouble. It'd be fun, fun enough to forget the stinging disappointment of the unanswered texts to Bradley sitting on her phone.
"You're looking pretty pleased with yourself," she says glancing over at his smile as she slides out of bed, staring openly at the muscles on display. Natasha would be stupid to not stay, but she should at least pull on some clothes. Maybe she'll talk him into another round later, definitely more conversation - and she'd rather avoid sneaking back into her brother's condo tonight; in the morning she can at least surprise her niece and nephew with some pastries.
Her eyes slide from his chest to his shoulders as she pulls on her bra and undies - and then her eyes catch on the dark ink of his tattoo.
"You're fucking Navy," she hisses. Fucking fuck. What the actual hell. It dawns on her now, of course, it does, that she had never outright asked or even thought to assume given their location. She hadn't offered any hint or mention of her own; they'd kept their talk to fun nostalgia.
