Work Text:
“I don’t know why they insist we stay in motels,” Clint grumbled, holding open the door for Natasha, who was carrying their bags inside, “They’re always crappy and hotels are much nicer.”
“I don’t know, Clint, I just it just makes it easier. Motels aren't going to track us; they would have no reason to. But with hotels, it really depends on the management.” Natasha responded, wheeling her suitcase over the step.
“That’s bull shit, you just heard that in one of those safety videos Fury makes us watch.” Clint accused.
“Maybe I did, but what’s in those videos is actually pretty helpful. You would know that if you ever stayed awake through one.” Natasha shot back, making and he rolled his eyes at her. The motels' SHIELD picks out are the worst, regardless of their reasoning.
They walked up to the front desk and rang the bell. A minute later an older woman wearing what was probably the ugliest sweater Clint had ever seen, walked out from the back room.
“How can I help you tonight?” she drawled in a bored voice.
“Hello, we would like a room for the night please,” Clint responded, trying to avoid breathing in too much of her perfume (why did it smell like cats?).
“Let’s see, we have three rooms available, would you like a double bed or a queen?” She looked up from the computer screen, adjusting her glasses.
“Uh, do you have any rooms with two beds?” Natasha asked, glancing at Clint.
“What's the problem, honey, trouble in paradise?” the woman looked a little more interested now.
“Oh, no,” Nat said quickly, “It’s just that we’re not actually together. This is an, um, work trip, so we would like two beds because we’re not...married. Or dating, or anything like that. We're just friends. More like business partners, really. So, um, yeah.” she finished, looking awkwardly at Clint and the front desk lady.
Clint looked back at her quizzically, what the hell was that?
The woman seemed unfazed by Natahsa’s defiance and booked them a room with a queen bed. Clint figured that there would be enough space for them to both have their own legroom, so they were fine. Still, Natasha’s ramble was striking him as weird. He wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with her. But he wanted to do whatever made Nathasa comfortable, even if that meant he was going to end up sleeping on the floor.
Clint took the keys from the woman and said goodnight to her. Clint hoped that she wasn’t going to be the one checking them out in the morning.
They made their way outside again, and up the stairs to their door. It was on the second floor of the motel, which was also the top floor. Clint put the key card in the slot and pushed open the door.
The room looked alright from what Clint could see in the dark. He flicked the light on to get a better look. There was a tv, chair, table, and the room didn’t smell funny. Overall, it was a win. And over on the wall by the bathroom was the bed.
Only one bed.
Natasha dropped their suitcases and went over to flop onto the bed. She hadn't said much since the whole fiasco at the front desk, and Clint figured he wouldn’t push it. He understood that it was probably weird for her to have someone assume they were together. It was weird to him too, he just dealt with it differently.
It was pretty late, so they started getting ready to sleep. Natasha was brushing her teeth, and Clint was sitting in the chair, watching tv. When she was done, he cleared his throat.
“Um, Nat?” she looked up, “I can just sleep in the chair if that’s better. We don’t have to sleep in the bed together.” He tried to read his expression, and his stomach flipped a little. He wondered if she had always looked like this right before bed.
Natasha sighed and looked like she was thinking for a moment.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, Clint, it’s that I’m scared.” she was hugging her arms around herself, standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
“Scared? Of what?” Clint asked.
“Of you,” she admitted, avoiding his eyes.
“Tasha, why would you...” He started, but she cut him off.
“Not you as a person, it’s how I feel about you.” now she finally looked him in the eye.
Oh.
So that’s why she had been acting so weird. It’s not that she didn’t want to share the bed, it was that she did, but she was scared of what that meant. Clint’s heart fluttered a bit.
“And I know this makes it super awkward because we’re partners and everything,” she continued, “but I just had to tell you because I felt like I can’t possibly sleep in this bed tonight without you knowing. It would kill me, not literally, but it might kill my heart. I’ve tried to ignore this, hoping it would go away, and I’m kind of regretting telling you all of this because now you know and that’s just going to make this harder for me. Because I know that, logically, the feelings you have for me are not the same as the ones I have for you. I know that you don’t even have feelings for me besides your platonic bad cop who can sometimes be your friend. And it’s all just really stupid that all this is happening and I can’t-”
Now it was Clint’s turn to cut her off. He had gotten up from his chair and walked over to where she was standing. He wrapped his arms around her, and she melted into him.
They stood there hugging for a few minutes before Clint spoke.
“Please don’t ever sell yourself short again, Nat. You’re not just the bad cop, you’re my best friend. And if you thought for one second that I’ve never wanted to be more than that, then you were wrong. I’d kiss you right now if that’s ok.” he pulled back to look at her, and she nodded.
Their lips met briefly, neither of them fully comprehending what they were doing. But that didn’t matter. It felt right.
When they broke apart, they rested their foreheads against each other, smiling. Nathasa spoke first.
“Maybe we could kind of...take it slow?” She asked, and Clint could tell that she wasn’t exactly sure where this was going. But, then again, neither was he.
“Of course,” he answered, wrapping his arms around her again and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He could feel her relax.
“Alright, well I guess we should use this bed. It would be kind of a waste if we just never slept.” Natasha chuckled.
They got under the covers and turned out the lights. Clint was content with staying on his side, and giving Natasha space if she needed it, but apparently, she didn’t. Not even two minutes after the lights were turned out, she scooted herself up next to Clint, resting her arm across his chest.
“Is this ok?” she whispered, and Clint smiled.
“Yes, this is perfect.”
For once, he was actually grateful for a crappy motel.