The Third, M, Coulson/Hawkeye/Natasha
Title: The Third
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Coulson/Hawkeye/Natasha Romanoff
Word Count: 2661
Summary: Thor Kink Meme: a prompt asking for some nice relationshipy fluff. This fic talks about how they got together and how their relationship works.
Warnings/ Kinks: Kissing, threesome, not SUPER graphic sex.
“You know...smoking is bad for you.” Coulson stated as he got out of his car, taking his briefcase, his empty lunch box and his coffee mug and putting them on the roof so he could lock the car before picking them up again.
Natasha sat on the front steps, inhaling puffs of smoke. “It was a rough day. You're pretty late.” she commented. She'd been home for about an hour now. It was summer, but the sun was already setting. This wasn't that unusual, but then again, there were few 'usual' days in this particular household.
“Yes, well, someone has to clean up the messes that your rough day left.” he said with a tiny hint of a smile and a sigh. His foot propped up on the first step and he bent to kiss Natasha's hair before continuing inside. Sometimes Phil stayed late just because he didn't want to be seen coming and going consistently with Natasha and Clint. People would talk.
Clint Barton's head snapped up when Coulson walked in. He was on the phone, a take out menu in his hand. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the menu, looking at Phil.
“Steak and cheese,” Coulson mouthed, putting his lunch dishes in the dishwasher.
“And a large steak and cheese.... yeah toasted. Okay. Thanks.” The phone beeped and the call ended. “I was starting to think you'd never get back.”
This domestic relationship had begun six months ago. Phil Coulson's apartment had been burned down- such was the price of chasing down a superpowered pyromaniac-, and he had taken up couch surfing. After staying with nearly everyone he knew, Natasha had worn him down about staying at Clint's. He didn't fancy the idea at first- he knew the reputation that Natasha had and he didn't want people to talk. After spending one evening with the two of them, he found himself laying in the bed in Clint's spare room thinking about how comfortable it had been. How nice.
Things happened little by little. Natasha pouring him cereal in the morning the same way she did for Clint. Barton leaning against him on the couch. Natasha falling asleep with her head in his lap while the TV droned on. Clint rubbing his shoulders. Natasha climbing into his bed one night when Clint was away on assignment. Clint joining them the next night.
Coulson's search for a new apartment began to slow.
“Pizza's here... can you get the door, Tasha!?” Clint shouted from across the house.
“Why can't you get it?”
“Game.” was the one word reply.
Natasha got up for the door, even while muttering how baseball was not nearly that exciting and nothing interesting was going to happen if he got up from the couch for three minutes. “Don't worry, I'll pay!” she called back in a snippy tone, rolling her eyes as the only sounds she heard in return was the crack of a bat and Phil and Clint both muttering the word “run”, followed by Clint jumping from his seat and shouting “Whoop!”
The three of them fit perfectly on the couch. Coulson sat on the side next to the bookshelf, straight backed and with his feet on the floor. He was still in his button down shirt and work slacks, but with a few buttons down and his tie and shoes laying discarded neatly on the floor. Clint sat in the middle, crosslegged, with an occasional leg hanging down over the other one and leaning back against the cushion, which had been dented down from his usual position. Natasha never sat still and generally went through ten or twenty different positions- more during baseball because she got so dreadfully bored. She would perch on the arm of the couch, sit on the back behind Clint, drape herself over the end of the couch, or sit at Coulson's knees and pick at the bookshelf.
The sex had come about in the usual way, if there was a usual way for these things. During one of their cramped cuddle sessions in Coulson's bed, Natasha moved from kissing Clint to kissing Coulson. He should have been shocked, but he wasn't. It felt natural, it felt right, and he wasn't worried that he would open his eyes to find Clint there judging him or angry. It was so nice, after six weeks of being there, steadily growing more and more affectionate with both of them, to have things coming to a more tangible state. Phil made love to Natasha with Clint right in the bed, his arm jerking quickly, that first time.
The first time Clint kissed him was while Natasha was away, two weeks after their first sexual experience, and it was different, not so intense, not moving so fast into other things. A simple kiss. Five minutes later another one, initiated by Coulson. They went to their separate beds. The next day, Natasha was still away and they grew closer, Coulson pulling Clint on top of him on the couch, touching, exploring, before they mutually chose to stop. Coulson showered, Clint went straight to bed. When Natasha finally got home a week later, both men looked as if they had a gleeful little secret whenever they looked at each other. Natasha was upset, naturally. Upset she didn't get to watch.
“Couple rounds of Halo?” Clint asked. The game was over, the leftover food packaged meticulously by Coulson and stored away in the fridge.
“I'm down.” Natasha said, turning on a controller.
“Don't you ever tire of shooting things?” Coulson asked, unbuttoning his shirt and hanging in the doorway to the living room. He was ready for bed, he'd be up before either of them tomorrow and was ready to turn in for the night.
“Not really, no.” Clint said with a little smirk. He could tell Coulson was getting ready for bed. “Do you want us to come in when we're done?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Coulson nodded, pulling his shirt off.
Natasha's brows furrowed. “I don't want to wake you if you're tired...” she said
“I can't sleep without my snugglebugs anyway.” Coulson said with a shimmer of a smile and he vanished into his bedroom.
Clint hit the 'start' button. “I wonder what people at work would say if they knew the ever-stoic Coulson called us his snugglebugs?”
Natasha's laughter was cut short by being shot three times in a row by Hawkeye, who, true to his name had found a perfect little nook to hide and snipe people off.
Natasha and Clint were a very physical couple. Even at work, they'd been known to alternate attacking each other in the hallways, training room, conference rooms, anywhere they could sneak up on each other. Today it was the copy room, while Clint was photocopying a stack of papers, Natasha had grabbed him by his belt and pulled him back, he was caught off balance and fell to the floor, where him and Natasha struggled, calling the attention of everyone in the room. Clint got the upper hand for a moment and landed a kiss on her lips, which she took as an opportunity to turn the tables and pin him to the floor, Clint an emitting a “oof” noise. She straddled his hips and nipped at his neck. People had gathered to watch at this point, their catcalls falling on deaf ears, as the pair were so wrapped up in each other.
“Out.” Coulson said to the room, staring at Natasha and Clint. Everyone who had been watching filed out of the room, a few mocking calls of “you're in trouble”.
Natasha smirked and rocked back, biting her lip and smirking at Phil. “Lol.” she said out loud. “You mad?” she asked, and Coulson took a step toward them, figuring a second later, that this was a horrid idea, as Clint's strong fingers wrapped around his ankle and pulled, causing Coulson to fall back against a copier and slide to the floor. Natasha moved quickly, climbing off of Clint's hips and moving over Coulson, who struggled to his feet. “This is not appropriate workplace behavior, Miss Romanoff... please let go of me, Mr. Barton. Now.” He managed to get to a standing position, only to be double teamed and pinned against the wall.
A few people on the far end of the room who had been minding their own business looked over uncomfortably and finished what they were doing quickly, leaving swiftly and uncomfortably.
Clint's face was dangerously close to Phil's, his face alight with a smirk even as Coulson gave him his usual expressionless face, tainted with a hint of annoyance and amusement. Clint fully intended to kiss him, but was stayed by Natasha's hand on his arm and her pulling back. Sometimes it was a challenge to remember that Coulson had a lot more boundaries than were present in their relationship before he had entered into it. So Clint just winked, picked up his copies and left.
Things got busy. Natasha was assigned to Stark Industries as a shadow for Mr. Stark, which meant a complete cover, including her living in a new place, minimal contact with the people she cared about. Coulson had gotten involved in the case, but he didn't even get to talk to her often. He jumped on the opportunity to babysit Tony Stark, as it meant getting to see Natasha, if only for a few hours.
“Enjoy your evening's entertainment.” he said as he stalked away. He looked around at Stark's damaged house until his eyes fell on Natasha, who was beaming. She leapt into his arms. “I missed you I missed you I missed you.” she said, clinging to him. He found himself holding onto her tight.
“I missed you too.” he said, softening from the demeanor he had been using to threaten Tony Stark. He tensed up when he felt her kissing his neck. “Not here, Tasha...” he whispered.
She let out a whimper. “Please? Stark's busy, Fury and the guys are gone...” she said. “And I haven't seen you or Clint in two weeks...” she said, her lips puffing out and her eyes going wide, tugging at his heartstrings.
“Not right in here.” Coulson pleaded. “Car?”
She shook her head. “Too much chance of getting caught. Bathroom. One place there aren't cameras.” she said, nodding toward the area in question.
Coulson found himself giving in before he even realized it. “This is so juvenile.”
“I don't care.” Natasha said.
Her uniform unzipped and slid off far too easily. He found himself on his knees, one of her legs over his shoulder, moaning against her clit and fingering her while her fingernails scraped against his skull and her other hand gripped the shoulder of his suit jacket. Her juices dripped from his lips when she came. “Phil, harder... harder... “ she pressed her lips together and groaned loudly, orgasming as he obliged, his fingers working against her insides. He grew hard and his pants grew tight and he stood slowly, feeling Natasha tremble as he ran his finger across her clit. He leaned against the wall, the hand towels pressing into his back, and he unzipped his pants, pulling Natasha toward him, holding her up, her knees against the wall, and she rode him quickly, clinging to his neck, both of them moaning against each other.
“Coulson.” came a voice from the other side of the door. “I'm going for coffee, alright?”
“Yeah, fine, yeah.” Coulson said, as composed as he could be.
“Okay. Bye.” Tony Stark said as he walked away.
“You're going to leave me here, playing secretary to Stark while you get to run around and investigate anomalies?”
“I am so sorry, Natasha. I can't override Director Fury.” Coulson said, folding clothes into his suitcase.
“Then take me with you. I don't want to be here alone for weeks.” The look that she gave Phil was heartbreaking, a cross between a pout and a desperate plea.
“You know I can't do that. Fury wants that report on Stark done, and there have been rumblings about things going on at Hammer Industries, and they need you here. And we can't piss Fury off. Not with the three of us.”
Natasha's toes prodded at Clint's duffel bag on the floor. “Why?”
“Because he knows what is going on with us” Coulson said with a sigh. “He hasn't said anything because he knows that it wouldn't be good for us at work but he is more observant than he looks.” Phil folded a pair of boxers neatly. “I don't want to give him cause to move us to different assignments permanently if he thinks that it's going to be a problem.” he said, turning to Natasha and putting his hands on her shoulders. “You're going to be fine.”
“I'm going to miss you.” she said, her theatrical pout making way for real emotion. The sad longing because she knew both of her lovers would be gone, and she had no idea for how long. In the past being dependent on people, caring enough to miss them like this had always led to pain and heartbreak, but the ache in her chest right now was different.
Coulson needed to finish packing, so Natasha wandered into the kitchen. Clint was making sandwiches and Natasha came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. “Don't leave me.” she pouted against his back.
“I've gotta. They need me.”
“I need you.”
“You need my damn sexy body and skills.” he said, smirking.
“They need you for the same things.”
“Different skill set, Natty.” he laughed, taking a bite of his sandwich and turning around without leaving her arms and leaning back against the counter. “Plus, you've got your little pencil skirted job with Stark.” he took another bite before offering it to her, and she also took a bite from the sandwich,
clinging to him and putting her head on his chest.
Eventually Coulson and Barton left together for New Mexico, making a brief stop at Stark's house.
“I came to say goodbye. I've been reassigned. Director Fury wants me in New Mexico.”
“Fantastic. Land of enchantment.”
“So I'm told”
“You could also make an argument for Natalie's cunt being a land of enchantment.”
Phil froze.
“You think I didn't notice?” Stark asked, “I pay attention.” he said with a little shrug, picking his level back up. “Like that you came into my driveway with her boyfriend. How awkward is that car ride?”
“Not as bad as you would think.”
“Ah, so he doesn’t know yet.” Stark clicked his tongue. “It would sure be a pity if he did find out.”
Phil looked at the shield squished under Stark's current science project, then around the room, buying himself a moment to think. “Should I start to hear rumors about myself and Miss Romanoff, I would be very displeased, Mr. Stark.” he said, choosing his words carefully. Perhaps displeased enough to request that a woman I care very dearly about be pulled from this dull assignment.” he said, raising an eyebrow. He knew Tony enjoyed women and having eyecandy around. He also knew that Tony didn't like him very much. Perhaps threatening to tase him one too many times, or interfering in Tony's life with his strict businesslike attitude. “Perhaps even enough to take on such an assignment myself. I would be a good candidate for that job.”
Even long after he returned from New Mexico, Coulson did not hear a word of rumors. He was pleased.
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