Title: Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
Fandom: Avengers, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Steve Rogers/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Other, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Warnings (including spoilers): None
Wordcount: 752 words
Author’s note: Written for the
be_compromised Valentine’s Day Mini-Promptathon, for
this prompt, and also filling the 'Affection' box of my Make You Feel That Way bingo card.
The title is from the James Taylor song of the same name, the tone really only fits for a hot second and the lyrics don’t at all, but I like this song, okay, so there.
At the bottom (if I manage to do it right) is a thing I drew for this story. Let it be known that the extent of my artistry is normally a single landscape drawing per year. This drawing is an example of why I don’t art people (seriously, what the fuck happened with their necks?). But I felt the urge, and I may not deny the muse. You don’t have to look if you have any taste and don’t want to.
Summary: ‘Clint and Natasha have a habit of taking in strays, fixing them up and letting them go.’
~~~~~
Steve bit his lip. He wanted to speak up, knew he ought to speak up, in fact, but everything was perfect and he didn’t want to ruin the scene. Instead, he tightened his arms around Natasha’s upper back. It was a bit uncomfortable, since Steve was sitting up against the headboard beside Clint, and Natasha had refused to give up the position she’d slept in against his chest, but Steve was used to this sort of behavior by now. He was even used to Clint eating in bed. Steve checked: apparently they were having pancakes for breakfast.
When the pair had first started forcing him to go out with them to sample different restaurants in the city and try out strange new things (a pole dancing class and ‘laser tag’ were among them, and were actually enjoyable), Steve had thought they pitied him. The fact that he was honestly enjoying himself, and liking Clint and Natasha more every day, just made it worse. Red-faced after one memorable evening when both of them had been flirting with him, Steve had blurted out that they could stop pretending to like him any time they wanted.
“We’re not pretending,” Natasha told him, serious, but with a smile that kept it all from being awkward. “We do like you.”
“And any time you’re ready, we’ll show you how much,” Clint had said with a wink.
Steve took them up on it.
In the last two months, he’d rediscovered joy in living, with two energetic, beautiful people forcing him to live his life. Natasha and Clint were great about using the carrot, not the stick: they didn’t push him to be more outgoing when he was down, but took what he was willing to give, and made the bad days a bit easier. Steve knew they were using some manipulation techniques on him, but that was easier to bear when he saw how much of themselves they were giving him, too.
When she was in private and fully relaxed, Natasha was clingy and playful. She had a sense of humor that relied far too much on puns-- and with English as a third or fourth language, they were never good puns. Clint vacillated between lazy and hyper-enthusiastic, ate as much as Steve did, and on some days chose not to speak at all outside of official communications. Before they’d invited him into their lives and their beds, Steve hadn’t known anything about these sides of his friends and teammates.
Which just made this so much harder. Once again, Steve opened his mouth to speak, but second-guessed himself and stopped. This time, Clint rolled his eyes.
“What is it going to take to get you to spit it out?” he complained.
“I’m trying to doze here, Rogers,” Natasha instructed his chest. “Say your piece and then relax.”
“I-- Someone-- asked me on a date. Tonight. And…”
“Did you say yes? If you didn’t, I may have to actually kill you.”
Steve blinked at Clint. “You’re not angry?”
Clint scoffed and waved a bite of pancake around emphatically. “We’ve only been waiting for you to get your act together for ages. Wait, this is who we think it is, right?” He frowned at the back of Natasha’s head, which nodded.
“Definitely.”
“I thought…” Steve shifted awkwardly. It wasn’t that he’d wanted Clint or Natasha to be upset, but… was it possible this hadn’t meant as much to the pair of them as it had to him?
“Steve.” Natasha rolled her neck so she could look up at him with one bleary eye. “We care about you. Very much. And part of that is wanting what’s best for you.”
“You’re our friend,” Clint continued seamlessly. “And tonight… we think it’ll do you good. More than we can.”
“Don’t fuck it up,” Natasha said conclusively, turning her cheek back to his pec.
“She means you have our blessing.” Clint leaned over and gave Steve’s shoulder a syrupy kiss, which Natasha mirrored on his chest.
Steve smiled. “Thanks, guys. For everything.”
“I mean, we're not completely altruistic,” Clint commented with a spreading grin. “And unless it’s against some code of yours, we should probably give you a good send-off. In case the dating process takes a while, you know.”
“I--” Steve blushed.
“Mmmm.” Natasha wriggled against Steve’s side in a very convincing manner and stroked his chest. “I agree.”
“...not really against any code…”
“Glad we’re decided.” Clint carefully put his pancakes on the far end of the bedside table, and pounced.
My
Make You Feel That Way bingo card