Work Text:
There were times where they didn’t see each other for weeks on end because of their respective missions. Then there were times when neither of them was home and more crucially awake at the same time. Luck would have it, that the former had followed the latter, and the two of them hadn’t spend time together alone and awake in over six weeks. Unless you counted that one time in the back of a plane, but Clint had walked in on them and his shrieks of horror had alerted the other passengers, so Natasha really didn’t. Between the yelling and the lack of privacy it had kind of ruined the ending.
So perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised when James’ hand found its way to her breast, despite him snoring softly. He had been sprawled on his stomach, more or less comatose, when she had slipped into their bed. But despite all evidence of him sleeping, he was still thumbing her nipple with his left hand.
“James?”
“Mfl.”
“Weren’t you sleeping?”
There was a pause, as if he was contemplating her question. Or perhaps he had fallen asleep again. “Maybe,” he finally said, voice still muffled by the pillow.
“There’s less than two hours till Fury expects you back and he told me about your last mission. Sounds like you need the sleep.”
“I need you more than I need sleep.”
“That’s really cute, but grand declarations of love generally work better when you have eye contact with the recipient. And aren’t drooling into their pillow.”
James finally moved, groaning as he shifted onto his side, even in the dark she could see the bruises covering his torso. Not that she got much chance to study them, because he slipped his hand from her breast to her waist, pulled her flush against him, and nuzzled her neck lightly. Yeah, sleep could definitely wait.
“Haven’t smelled you on my skin in weeks.”
“How do you manage to be so sweet yet so gross at the same time?”
“’S a gift.”
Natasha smiled and pushed against him in a languid rolling motion. Her reward was a soft groan as she pressed her ass against his growing sign of affection.
“I’ve missed you too,” she said, not even bothering to suppress the chuckle.
Her laughter was short lived when he immediately trailed a finger from that ticklish spot behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder, continuing over her breast while deftly avoiding the nipple, and further down the center of her stomach, but veering off at the last possible minute to caress her inner thigh instead.
“Patience,” he breathed into her hair as she tried to guide his hand home.
“Patience, my ass,” Natasha retorted as she sat up, removed her slip dress, pushed him onto his back, and straddled his hips in one swift move.
He finally opened his eyes to look at her, only a crack but the blue of them pierced her like it always did when he looked at her like this and she leaned forward to kiss him. That man continued to take her breath away in ways that really shouldn’t be possible.
It was no use trying to suppress the moan that ripped from her throat when James met her partway, mouth open, warm, and oh so eager. Her fingers dug into the mattress beside his head nearly as hard as his dug into her hips. After the initial rush he slowed down, his tongue unhurried and sinuous against hers and she countered by grinding against him and the pajamas pants that frustratingly kept them apart. His laughter was barely more than a rush of air, but there was no mistaking it.
“If I’m to go to another meeting without more sleep, I’m gonna make it worth it,” he said between kisses.
Before she had a chance to reply, he slipped a hand between them and opened her with a single finger, sliding over her clit and into her, before he returned to circle her clit again. With just a couple of strokes he had her breathing hard into his mouth, as he continued to alternate between finger-fucking her and thumbing her clit in what had to be a deliberate attempt to drive her crazy.
She caught his bottom lip and sucked and nibbled at it until he decided he had tormented her enough and flipped her onto her back. But she quickly realized that no, he wasn’t done. Instead of settling between her thighs like she wanted him to, he kissed a trail down her throat and gave each nipple a lick before blowing on them. Because apparently they weren’t hard enough as it was. It took all of her will-power not to pull harder at his hair than she did when she weaved her fingers into it.
Once James finally, finally reached her cunt it was so slick his breath was almost cold against it as he let out something between a sigh and a happy hum. She didn’t get a chance to feel cold though, because he leaned in immediately after and pressed the flat of his tongue against her clit.
With a leg hooked over his shoulder, Natasha attempted to grind against him, but that only resulted in him using the hand not currently occupied between her legs to hold her hips down. This would be torture if he wasn’t so damn good at it and she came almost embarrassingly quickly with two of his fingers buried deep inside her and her clit caught between his lips.
He left his fingers inside her as she came down, feathering kisses on the insides of her thighs. With her insides still shaking slightly, she pulled him up into a kiss. Even though he wiped his mouth on a sheet before he met her, she could still smell and taste herself on his lips. It was intoxicating.
“So, these seem to be in the way.” She slid a nail down the trail of hair from under his navel and pulled at the elastic waist of his pajamas pants.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said with an insolent grin in stark contrast to his deferential words. Sliding off her and pressing his shoulders against the headboard as leverage, he lifted his hips off the bed and pushed the pants down to let them join her slip on the floor.
Not one to miss a perfectly good opportunity, Natasha began to straddle him when she again noticed the bruises covering his chest. She settled on his lap and trailed a finger down his bruised chest.
“James Buchanan Barnes, sometimes I think you like getting hurt.”
“Depends on who’s doing the hurting.” His voice was playful, but the look in his eyes downright dirty.
“Keep talking like that and we’ll find out.” With her fingers in his hair, she pulled his head back, exposing his throat to her and placed a kiss there. His skin had a faint scent of soap, but underneath was the familiar smell of him. She realized that she had missed it more than his hands on her skin, his cock inside her. He smelled like home.
The quick tap of his pulse under her tongue brought her back into the moment, and she sucked hard enough to leave a mark. He was loose and warm under her, like he was still partly asleep. Hands resting at her waist, the left hand barely cooler than the right by now, but still distinguishable by the lack of friction. He still reacted the second she released him, closing his mouth over hers, tongue soft and slippery as it worked its way inside. It curled against hers and probed behind her teeth, leaving her as breathless as him.
Not breaking the kiss, she lifted herself partly off him, guided his cock to her, and sunk onto it ever so slowly. It took a few seconds for her to accommodate his size, her orgasm too recent for her muscles to have relaxed completely again. But he knew this, of course he knew this, and he sat perfectly still as she settled against him.
He groaned softly when she began to move, rolling her hips against him. It was a slow rhythm at first, deliberately so, provoking James to open his eyes and grip her hips when she rolled her hips against him again just a fraction too slow to his liking. When he looked at her, she rewarded him by clenching around him.
Natasha straightened, steadying herself with her hands on his shoulders, drinking in the way his mouth hung slightly open with red lips and hooded eyes as she rode him. He knew she was watching him and he flicked the tip of his tongue out to lick the already wet lips. But when she didn’t react – she was having far too much fun just watching his face as she ground against him – he leaned forward and brushed a nipple with his tongue.
It startled a gasp from her and she leaned her head back as he continued to suck and lick one breast, then the other, and then back again. If she just angled her hips like this, then each time she pushed forward pressure transferred to her already overstimulated clit. The friction sent tendrils of heat coursing through her body, licking up and devouring thoughts. His hands weren’t helping either, forever shifting from place to place – weaving through her hair, cupping her breasts, digging into her.
And before she even realized that the rhythm had grown as unsteady as her breathing, he gripped her hips harder, thrusting up into her, each shove accompanied by a soft moan. With fingers digging into his neck and shoulder, she felt the pressure build to be near unbearable. Biting her bottom lip as his next thrust send her falling over the edge, clenching around him like her life depended on it.
“Fuck. Natalia.” The words sounded like they were ripped from his throat.
While she was still coming apart around him, he clutched her to him and shifted to a kneeling position, partly seated on his lower legs. With the added leverage he thrust up into her with a fervor that signaled how very close to the edge he was, and she caught his mouth with hers, gripping his hair in her fist to ground him as well as herself. When he came, hips jerking and body tense, she swallowed the desperate little sounds that escaped him.
They remained seated like that for a little while, both too tired to think about moving and unwilling to relinquish the touch of the other one. But when Natasha felt his thighs tremble slightly under her, she unwound a leg from around his waist and used it as leverage as she toppled the two of them. They fell like a tree if with less grace, limbs intertwined, smiling like a pair of lovesick teenagers.
“I’ve got at least eight hours until I’m off to Ukraine, eight and a half if I take your bike. If you hurry back from your meeting with Fury I could have breakfast ready by then,” she said, snuggling up against James and resting her head on his chest.
“Please don’t cook, I’ll pick something up on my way back. Three layers of paint still haven’t covered the stains from your last attempt.”
“It’s like you don’t even appreciate my loving effort to take care of my superhero boyfriend.” She didn’t even try to sound hurt. Or sincere.
“So, you already knew I wouldn’t let you cook.” His chuckle was felt as much as heard, interrupting the deep whoosh of his calm breathing.
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna pay for that later, you know.”
“Why wait, if you skip showering we could go a second time right now. I know you’re up for it.” She got up onto an elbow, gripped his deflated cock with her other hand, and wiggled her eyebrows at him.
“Sometimes, I think you only love me for my dick,” he said with a deep sigh.
“Oh sweetie, no. I love your hands and mouth just as much.”
And it turned out there was time for a shower, but only because he dragged her there to wash the nastiness from her. But despite a near herculean effort on his part, she still made sure he would be able to smell her on his skin for the entire, unending hour his meeting with Fury lasted. It was the least she could do.