Northern Downpour (A Clintasha Drabble)

Imagine your OTP getting caught in torrential rain, laughing hysterically and ducking into a nearby doorway, cuddling together for warmth before they start kissing passionately.
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"Oh, great. Exactly what I needed."

Natasha hissed and clutched her bag in her fist as she stared out the office window, rain falling like liquid blades into the streets of New York City. On the one day she gets to leave early and not get an earful from Coulson the next day, it had to be pouring. Luckily, she'd worn a big enough coat the morning of, so she couldn't get too soaked.

Letting out a sigh and turning her back to the window, the Russian made her way down the hallway of the building and to the double elevators. She pushed the button in the wall just before she heard the clicking of footsteps behind her, followed by a familiar chuckle.

"Some luck you have, Nat." The voice teased her, walking to her side and taking her free hand into his, intertwining their fingers. To this, Natasha made no attempt to object, but only cracked a small smile and wiggled her fingers in between his. She turned her head to look at the other, those beautiful silver-sapphire eyes meeting with her molten jade.

He was Clint Barton, or otherwise known as "Hawkeye", "The Hawk", or whatever other nicknames their co-workers had come up with over the years of being around him. He was 5' 9", tan-skinned, left-handed, and had the most breathtakingly gorgeous eyes. He was crazy, completely time-consuming, and was the biggest idiot Natasha had ever known. But most importantly, out of everything she knew about him, he was hers, and only hers. And he loved her.

"You trying to leave without me, huh?" He nudged her side with his elbow, stepping just close enough to nip at her ear in a playful manner. Natasha only laughed and nudged him back as the elevator arrived, pulling him along with her inside.

"I don't think I'd be able to if I tried." She responded, leaning into him and resting her head upon his shoulder. Clint grinned, but kept his mouth shut, because he knew that she would sew it shut otherwise.

The duo stepped out of the elevator as it stopped on the first floor, approaching the front door hand in hand. They received no looks from the other employees today, only because Director Fury had come in the morning and sent a few of them home due to the lack of work. Considering the amount of idiots working there, Natasha was disappointed by how many people were still there.

As expected, nothing had changed about the weather in a few minutes, and the Russian let out a long breath. Clint only chuckled at her, and untangled his hand from hers to hold open the glass door. "After you," He grinned from ear to ear, to which Natasha only shook her head and smiled at as she passed through the doorway and stood underneath the awning. He quickly returned to her side and looped an arm around her waist, keeping her close as they stepped out into the rain.

"Can't we get a cab?" Natasha laughed as she ducked her head into Clint's chest, shielding her bag from the rain by keeping it pressed up against the other's side. He only responded with a shake of the head and his everlasting smile, his hair completely soaked by the rain. "Couldn't if we tried on a day like this. Besides, it'll be quicker if we just walk."

Three blocks and several grumbles away, shivers begin to course down her spine from the ice-cold rain. It should have been snowing, but oh no, it just had to be rain, didn't it? Her teeth chattered audibly as she drew herself closer to Clint in an attempt to seek out warmth, but the rain kept soaking her in vicious chills. After the two had rounded the next block, Natasha couldn't stand being in the pouring rain for much longer, and Clint could tell.

"Come on, over here," he uttered with a laugh, pulling her along with him by the hand to duck into the nearest doorway and hold her close underneath the awning. She couldn't reject a moment out of the rain, could she? Huddling closer to her partner, she dropped her bag down next to the stranger's front door and linked her arms around Clint's shoulders. This was when she couldn't help but to laugh along with him, for no reason at all. Did they need a reason?

Clint's lips were soft, she thought to herself as her eyes drooped closed, much softer than she had imagined. Their first kiss was in someone-they-didn't-even-know's doorway, and it was pouring out. The air smelled like chimney smoke and fresh bread, and he smelled like her favorite cologne. His taste, however, was much sweeter in her opinion. His hands wringed into the sides of her coat as the kiss became intensified, and Natasha could hardly breathe. Both of their heartbeats had skyrocketed, but neither wanted to stop and take breaths in between kisses.

And the only thing dry about the two was their kisses.