OOM: Milliways; April Fools; Upstairs

[redintheledger]

after this:

The room they walk into is...a hotel room.

Nicer than a lot, though. A queen-sized bed (the quilt and pillows a deep imperial purple), a small couch in front a decent-size television, a small table with a couple of chairs. Wide windows overlooking the forest, a nice redwood wardrobe, and a closed door to what presumably is the en suite.

Natasha has lived in smaller, and worse, so beyond slanting Clint an amused look once she catches sight of the colour of the bed, she heads straight to the couch. She's going to have to ask him to unbutton her, but first?

She's sitting down out of gratitude that she didn't break her neck on the stairs.

Comments

[hasthehighground]

Clint smirks, and presses a kiss into her hair briefly.

"And now," he says, drawing back, "it's a plastic longbow."

At least the coffee is some consolation.

[redintheledger]

"...if it doesn't turn back, I'll bake some triple-chocolate fudge brownies. I'll throw them at R&D while you run," she says, her expression perfectly solemn.

[hasthehighground]

"Eh," Clint says, "it'd buy me long enough to get Phil's protection, at least."

Coulson is a terror beyond those known to R&D-kind.

And Clint already owes him too many favors for Coulson to let him die without repaying at least some of them.

[redintheledger]

She snorts.

"Oh, the mental images," she says, taking a drink with a smirk and then resettling her head against her friend's shoulder.

She might even admit to herself, just for a moment, that she's missed him a ridiculous amount.

[hasthehighground]

Clint glances sideways to her.

Once he finishes his coffee (pretty soon), he sets the mug down gently on the table with his left hand. He slips his right hand behind her back at the same time, sliding easily over the silk of her slip.

When he straightens, he slips his hand down to her far hip, fingers splayed across the border between silk and skin. "So," he says, far too amused to be anything approaching smooth. "Lounging, huh? That going well for you?"

[redintheledger]

She's not even trying to hide her smile.

"Pretty well, actually. Getting a bit bored of it, though."

[hasthehighground]

"Yeah?" He presses an open mouth kissed to her neck, breath shaking slightly with nearly-silent laughter. "That sounds like something you might want to fix."

[redintheledger]

Natasha laughs.

"Fortunately, I know exactly how to do that," she says, and twists around to kiss him properly.

---

Natasha doesn't really want to wake up. It's a comfortable bed, and her body is telling her rather distinctly that it'd be awesome to just stay here. Sleep some more. Get more cuddles from-

The other side of the bed is cold, and she dimly remembers Clint saying something about heading downstairs. Grumbling a little, Natasha opens her eyes and tries to scan as much of the room as is possible without moving any further.

"Clint?"

[hasthehighground]

Clint's sitting on the couch, legs propped up on the coffee table, reading a book. He's only a couple pages into it; he came back from the bar maybe five minutes ago. Next to his legs are a thermos and a paper bag (which probably contains baked goods of some variety).

"Hey," he says, pulling his legs off of the table and setting the book down. "Did I wake you up?"

[redintheledger]

"Mmm, not that I'm aware," she says, rolling over to peer at him. This involves tangling the sheets even further.

"...is that awesome food I smell?"

[hasthehighground]

Clint grins. "Tomato soup and cheese rolls."

He rolls his shoulders back, rubbing at the back of his head with one hand. "You going to come get it, princess? Because I'm pretty sure your fairy godmother would be kind of pissed if she had to clean soup off the sheets."

Cinderella's the one with the fairy godmother, right? Cool.

[redintheledger]

"She had a wand, I'm pretty sure laundry was included," she says, drily, but she untangles herself to get up anyway. She finds the slip, pulls it on, and then strolls over.

"I'm still," she points out with a sigh as she takes a seat, "blonde."

[hasthehighground]

"Oh no," Clint intones, as he unclips the bowls from the thermos. "What a horrible tragedy."

He grins and bumps his shoulder lightly into hers.

The soup is good, the cheese rolls better; that Milliways has a copy of the original The Evil Dead -- well.

Let's just say the next few hours aren't exactly tortuous.

(Until they find a copy of 2013 remake.)