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There were many things Clint Barton knew about Natasha Romanoff.
She likes fireflies. The flying bioluminescent Lampyridae that shines like a fire mainly during twilight to attract mates. While he doesn’t really understand why or what the symbolism she sees in them is, he’s perfectly happy to sit while she follows them around like a kid again.
She has a high tolerance for spicy food. Their first visit to the restaurant that opened a few months ago is proof. The workers say the food was made out of the spiciest pepper in the world. They also say that she is the first person to come in and act so blasé about their food.
Another thing about her is that she is the most touchstarved person he has ever met. It can be seen in the way she holds his hands oh-so tightly, the way she presses her forehead against his hardly as if to savour the moment, how she leans into his side after a long mission on the way back home. He can see the way she looks at him when she isn’t feeling particularly well, or when she leans into his hand as if leeching off of his body heat.
When Clint and Natasha first moved into the compound, he was jetlagged, fatigued, and starving. He decided to tackle his hunger first, going into the kitchen after promising food to Nat. When he returned to the living room, two bowls of microwave-boxed mac n' cheese in his hands, he nearly dropped them both.
Natasha was asleep on the couch, a normal sighting to see, but what was so abnormal about this specific instance was that she wasn't alone. No, because she was snuggling right into the side of Captain America. Steve caught his eye from the doorway and sent him a vaguely panicked expression, staying as still as he could while she slept. He counted her breathing—one, two, three—yeah, she was dead asleep.
Clint shrugged helplessly at him. There was really nothing he could—wanted to—do. He didn't want to wake her up. She needs the sleep. They both do, actually. But first, he needs to finish his mac n' cheese.
He placed both bowls on the coffee table and plopped down before it, swiping the remote from Steve's grasp.
The man was glaring at him. He raised one single eyebrow. "What?"
'Help me,' Steve mouthed, trying his best not to wake Natasha up.
Clint watched as he helplessly tried to scoot over to the end of the couch but was grappled back by the hands of a sleeping spy after he moved a mere inch. "Yeah, sorry man. There's no getting away from that."
Steve slumped back defeatedly. "Can you at least give me the mac n' cheese?"
"It was for Nat, but sure, not like she can eat it now that she's asleep."
After passing the bowl to Steve, they kept the talking to a minimum as A New Hope played on the TV. The quiet was nice. Great, even. It did wonders for his lessening headache and the stress of moving again.
About halfway through the second movie, Natasha stirred. Steve caught his eye, silently portraying his panic once again. He rolled his eyes.
"Let her wake up on her own." Was all he said before turning his attention back to the TV, rewinding it ten seconds because someone decided to stop the flow.
Natasha woke up slowly if she was comfortable enough. That was another thing he knew about her. Days spent lounging against each other in the backseat of a tinted car or a private jet taught him that.
It was a few seconds of silence before she jumped, unwrapping her arms from Steve's chest. "Steve? What are you doing here?"
He held the back of his neck awkwardly, "Well um, you kinda…" He cleared his throat, "Fell asleep on me…"
"What? Why didn't you wake me up?!"
"Well—Clint told me it'd be better if you stayed asleep and you looked pretty comfortable there so—"
"STEVE!"
"CLINT!"
There were many things Clint Barton knew about Natasha Romanoff. There weren't many things the Avengers knew about her.
She liked big hugs. Hugs that felt like a bear was holding her.
She liked the grounding of a hand in hers in stressful situations.
She liked leaning against someone on the couch, a movie playing in the background.
But most of all, she liked the Avengers. The constant stream of affection and touch when they figured out what she liked. The warm bear hugs that Thor always greeted her with, Clint's hand carding through her hair on lazy days, Steve and Tony's comforting side to lounge into, Bruce's utterly boring but grounding ramblings to distract her.
The Avengers were truly like the family Natasha never had.
And this time, she'll never let them go.