“Is this line secure?”
“I don’t even think I should dignify that with an answer Tash.”
“And yet I will ask you again, is it secure?”
“Fuck, yeah, it’s secure, of course it is, you think I’d call you mid assignment if I hadn’t rerouted the damn thing three times and tethered a burner phone?”
Natasha blinks slowly. She walks to the edge of her suite where glass meets floor in an impressive panoramic view over the city. The shapes of buildings are etched out in lights of all colours. Directly below her the fountain outside the tower’s main entrance is lit in whites and blues, echoing the shape of the miniature reactor that keeps their team mate and benefactor alive.
“I know.” She says.
“Oh goddamn it Tasha, you’re such a tease!” Clint huffs.
“You want me to tease you?” She says, slipping her shoes off and sinking into the chaise longue beside the window.
“Are you in shared barracks?” She asks, curious to know if Clint will be indulging his exhibitionism this time.
“No, hotel, an actual room to myself, it’s a luxury, let me tell you.” Clint replies and there’s the sound of a door shutting, the lock clicking shut a second later.
She smiles. “You must have done something right to get in Coulson’s good books.”
“I didn’t goose him while he was washing his hands in the bathroom last week, could have.”
“I’m sure he appreciates the thought.”
She props herself up on a few cushions and leans back, crossing one ankle over the other, looking out over the city. She’s been in the dark for hours now, all the better to see the tapestry of life at the tower’s feet.
“Are you missing us all back home?” She says playfully.
“From the moment I left sweetheart.” There’s a touch of sarcasm in his voice but Natasha can still hear the truth in the words, knows it takes a lot for him to bare his heart entirely. She misses him too.
“You’re going soft.” She says, because for years mocking each other’s feelings has become a part of expressing them.
“Oh no, totally the opposite, promise.”
Her secret smile is predatory, feline. “Is that right? Is it me you’re thinking of? Or perhaps it’s Steve?”
There’s a hum at the other end of the line, non-committal. It could very well be both. She hears the rustle and creak of him getting on the bed, knows from experience that he’s already naked, waiting for her to call the shots.
“I’m willing to bet it’s Steve.” She says, “You’re missing watching him fuck me aren’t you?”
“Porn will just never be the same again, you’ve ruined a perfectly good entertainment source you know that?”
“I know, you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Clint’s laugh huffs against the speaker of the phone and it crackles.
“You have no idea how strong he is Clint.” She teases, “He tries to hold back but you’ve seen the bruises on my hips the morning after.”
Clint murmurs an agreement. In their line of work, skating the edge of danger and always rough around the edges it’s difficult not to revere bruises as signs they are alive. They are badges of survival and Clint likes to trace every one of Natasha’s with his tongue, his lips, however she earned them.
“I wonder if he ever bruises?” Clint says. His voice is lower now and he’s talking slower.
“Do you want to try?”
“I want you to.” He laughs again and Natasha hears the tension of the day, of his mission seeping away.
“Maybe I’ll show him how to bruise you.” She answers and is rewarded with an almost inaudible hitch in Clint’s breath. “There it is, you want that Clint?”
He mutters something and she doesn’t catch it. There’s a sound of distant sirens wherever he is, they sound European, possibly French. She doesn’t focus on it, it doesn’t matter where he is, only that he’s not here.
“You want me to show him how to touch you? I bet he’d like to know what you taste like.”
“Is he good with his mouth?” Clint is dropping pauses in strange places when he talks, she knows it’s whenever he swipes the flat of his palm hard over the head of his cock, it makes him draw breath sharp and wicked.
“You know he is, you’ve seen the way I can’t breathe when I’m beneath him.”
“I only know one other person that can make you writhe like that.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” She says. “Open yourself up.”
“Yes Ma’am.” Clint says, it’s cocky, the same way he responds to Coulson, the only people he ever bothers to bait like that are the ones he cares about.
She hears a rattling and the crinkle of foil packaging. Clint swears softly and puts down the phone. A second later he’s back, and the bed creaks below him as he makes himself comfortable again.
“Are you ready?” She asks, and gets another cocky reply. “Then do it slowly, carefully.”
She listens to him breathing for a few moments, hears the way he loads his exhale with a gentle moan when he touches sensitive skin.
“You know he’s not going to know how to do this,” she warns, “I’ll have to show him, maybe I’ll have him hold you down while I use a dildo for demonstration purposes.”
“Oh you like that idea? You want Steve to watch as I prep you myself? I’ll let him try, his hands are bigger than mine.”
“Yeah, Tasha, will you show him that thing you do with your nails?”
“Maybe, maybe not, I have you leave you wanting something from me. Captain America can’t give you everything.”
“Tasha..what’s next?” Clint’s breathing hard now, he’ll hold himself back but she can hear him striking a steady rhythm, timing his strokes with his breath.
“I’ll ask him to hold your arms, you won’t be able to move in that grip, I’ll show him how to prep you and then I’ll slide it in.”
She can already picture the one she’ll use, it’s smooth, silver. They have more exciting toys, but it’s unassuming, Steve can be sensitive and she doesn’t want to alarm him.
“Then, when I have you begging for more, harder, as rough as you can take it, I’ll tell him to fuck you.”
“Oh, fuck, do you think he will?” Clint’s panting, his voice ragged. She doesn’t want to make him wait much longer.
“I know he will, I’ve seen the way he watches you when you fuck me, seen the way he can’t take his eyes of you when you undress.”
“Is it good?”
“So good Clint, he’s powerful, you’ve seen how proportioned he is, he gets so hard, you’ve no idea.”
“I..I want it.”
“I know you do, you gonna come for me?”
Clint moans in response and she closes her eyes, imagining him spread out on top of cheap hotel sheets, his knees apart. She knows by now he’s pumping his cock in short, sharp bursts, two fingers working in and out of himself, withdrawing almost completely before pressing firmly back in. It’s the same way she touches him when she has him spread out and tied to the bed on the rare occasions he’s relaxed enough to allow it.
He grunts and gasps and she can see him arching off the bed, bracing his feet on the covers. He falls silent for a second and she smiles when a second later he’s releasing a string of “ohfuckohfuckfuckFUCK!”
She lets him come down, and neither of them speak until he’s almost breathing normally again.
“I can’t wait to get home.” He says.
“Do you want to..want me to help?”
She never does, and he knows it, not unless it’s been weeks since they were first apart and it rarely goes that long now. Besides, tonight she has other plans. She returns to the window briefly before turning back towards the bedroom. She can make out the curve of Steve’s back in the darkness, reflecting moonlight where her sheets have fallen from his shoulders.
“I think I will wake Steve.” She says.
“Are you going to tell him what we did?” Clint asks.
“Oh,” Tasha says, and she lets her arousal colour her voice. “You can count on it.”