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cause you and i, we were born to die

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Natasha isn’t exactly sure when it began to change. Just that, for years now, short of the nth end-of-the-world situation, she and Yelena get together once a month to spar. They meet up in Los Angeles, Milan, Dubai, Kiev, wherever. Sometimes in a gym, sometimes Yelena corners her in an alley. Once, they met in an underground fighting ring, two newcomers from out of nowhere where men placed bets on the size of their tits because they had no stats to go off of.

Another time, Yelena fingered her open in an abandoned dance studio, a barre pressed bruisingly into Natasha’s back.

It starts out as a dance of fists and flying limbs for many months before Natasha clips Yelena’s hip and she moans, deep and throaty, and Natasha could feel it all the way down to her toes. She touched herself thinking about it for the next for weeks.

The next month, Yelena has her on her back on the mat, fingers brushing her chest. It’s just a quick sensation, but it is enough that it makes Natasha’s nipples tighten before she flips Yelena over.

The month after that, Yelena kisses her. Hard enough to make her lips bleed.

She gives Natasha a contemplative look, says, “It’s good to see that at least your blood still runs red,” before she grabs Natasha’s hips, intention in her eyes.

It didn’t matter who she is with at the time: they have to be fine with Yelena for one day a month. Even if they don’t understand it, even if they don’t necessarily like it, they have to be able to deal with it.

Because the thing of it is, there is no one else left that has quite gone through what they have with the Red Room and the Black Widow program and everything that came with it. Steve had once mentioned something about shared life experience while giving Bucky and Sam a soft look from across the room, and yeah. She understands that.

Honestly, they don’t always get along. “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one, rooskaya.” Yelena’s grin was sharp like a knife before she pressed it between Natasha’s legs. Most of the time, they weren’t anything but enemies, two sides of the same coin. The last of the Widows. It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter, not when they are hot and sweaty, clothes clinging to their bodies and Yelena’s mouth is sucking a kiss on her neck.

“You like that, Natalia?” she always asks, which always fucks with Natasha’s head because of how soft Yelena sounds. Especially when Yelena is just as quick to press a knife to her throat any other time if given half a chance.

Each time, Natasha replies, “You’d be the first to know if I didn’t.” They can read each other acutely. They know it, everything, is mutual.

This time, though, she wraps a leg around Yelena’s hips, rocks, and uses the momentum to roll them over, pressing her down. Yelena lets her because she likes it, really likes it, though she’ll never admit it out loud. She just lies there panting until Natasha draws her into a kiss, hands gripping Yelena’s tousled hair.

Pushing Yelena’s shirt up, Natasha bites her way down her body. She’s not gentle. Yelena wouldn’t like it if she was.

Later, while Natasha’s working three fingers in Yelena and sucking on her clit, she briefly thinks that somehow, they were always going to end up just like this. Then she slides her hand down her own pants and starts fingering herself to the rhythm Yelena uses to fuck herself on Natasha’s fingers and thinks nothing.

They come hard, they come fast, and they come together. Natasha rolls over and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, thinking that, for as fucked up as her relationship with Yelena is, she’s never done that with anyone else.

They lie there panting in unison for a moment before Yelena gets up, pulling her clothes back on. Natasha doesn’t really want her to go quite yet, but with their lives, she knows how it is. They’re lucky to even get this much time together this often.

“Till next time, Natalia,” Yelena says, pressing one last hard kiss to Natasha’s lips. Yelena licks her own taste from her lips as she pulls away, grinning, and exaggeratedly sways her hips as she leaves. Natasha watches every step.

Yeah, Natasha’s already looking forward to it.