PROMPTATHON 2015
Welcome to one of the most eagerly-anticipated events on the be_compromised calendar! Are you excited yet???
Just before we get started we do have some info and rules we’d like you to read…
( Read more... )
Just before we get started we do have some info and rules we’d like you to read…
( Read more... )
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Clint takes a small sip from his beer, conscious that he wants to make it last the night. He sighs, and though Nat doesn’t move he knows he’s gotten her attention.
“Well, this is new.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m pretty sure this is the only time I’ve ever been bored on a mission with you.”
“I’m boring?”
Nat’s voice isn’t quite harsh nor quite teasing, floating within the ambiguous space between curiosity and displeasure.
“No, not you. The - never mind.”
Clint sighs. Natasha’s lips just barely crease into a smile, one so small that perhaps only Clint himself would be able to tell that it was one at all.
“I just thought spying on socialites might be more exciting than spending...however long we’ve been in this god-awful goddamn club,” he explains with no conceivable purpose other than to distract himself with his own voice.
“God-awful goddamn?”
“Don’t judge me, Nat.”
“Oh, it’s long since too late for that.”
Clint scoffs. The music in the club changes again; it’s loud and obnoxious, and he slips out one of his hearing aids. All the better to not hear that shit with.
Natasha gives a huff representative of a laugh and turns away from their corner table, the muscles of her toned back showing themselves off through the sheer - or perhaps it was legitimately see-through - back of her dress. (Mini-dress? Was that what she’d called it? He can’t recall. Whatever it was, it was good for them and for SHIELD that he was as comfortable with her as he was, since the thing would be far too distracting if he hadn’t spent so much time with her and learned to effectively dull virtually all potential arousal when he needed to. Even the Maximoff girl got unsteady about Nat’s attractiveness sometimes.)
Their little socialite - Ashley is what the SHIELD report says she’s going by now, but everyone who’s talked to her tonight has called her Kitten - is still dancing, but drifting from the group she’s with. Drifting closer to the bar.
Nat’s scheming, he’s sure.
She slides out of her chair and over to his, sitting down gently on his knee - yep, there’s a scheme here - and leaning to whisper in his ear, doing that weird thing she does that somehow keeps him from feeling basically any of her weight on top of him.
Not that he’d really mind if she actually just sat down. Probably neither here nor there.
“I agree. I think we should keep a closer watch on her,” she intones; she pauses a moment, letting the hot breath of her statement warm his neck first before she turns her head back to the socialite and then back to him, then speaks again.
Okay, this sounds bad.
Too fucking bad.
“What would you do,” Nat asks him, in that deceptively lazy way of hers, “if I seduced her?”
"Oh, that's easy," Clint replies with a grin. "Watch, and then join in."
She answers with her own, calculating grin, then smoothly sets her heels on the floor and stands up. With only a single smirk back at him, she adjusts her dress (why, he’s not sure; it was so short to begin with) and leaves him - leaning back in his chair, watching as she goes to order herself a drink - probably a martini - and slides easily into the barstool next to the blonde they’re tracking.
He can't wait for this scheme to pick up momentum.
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