Venomous

30. Old Habits

I groaned when the pillow was abruptly yanked out from under my head, squinting up at the clock. Seven fucking thirty? Are you kidding me? I growled and yanked my pillow back roughly, pulling it back down over my head instead to block out the irritating figure beside me. The pillow was once more snatched away from my grip, and this time it came crashing down on the back of my head, and I sat up immediately with a snarl.

"It is not eight-fucking-thirty, Natasha," I hissed, my irritation deepening with the growing smirk on her flawlessly glowing face. The chuckled, sitting insistently down on the edge of my bed, forcing me to move over or be sat on.

"But I have some good news," she chuckled. I glared at her.

"This had better be the best fucking news in the whole world, or I swear to god that I'll..." Natasha cut me off before my threat could materialize.

"Wanda's on a mission away for two weeks, so you don't have to keep skulking around the compound," the smirk on her face widened as she delivered the news. I sighed in relief.

"That is good news," I agreed. "But I'm not sure it's seven-thirty in the morning good." Natasha's smirk broke out into a full laugh.

"And, I thought that after training we could have one of our movie days? Like we used to?" I frowned, carefully considering the offer.

"I suppose I do have about five years of cinematic genius to catch you up on," I thought aloud. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"I've seen movies." She defended.

"What's the last movie you saw, Natasha?" The redhead paused, trying to think of an answer. "Like I said, five years to catch up on."

"Fine," she conceded. I smirked, victorious. "But you have to get your ass up now and come train with me." I sighed, looking forlornly back at my bed. Natasha started moving towards the bathroom.

"I'm up," I jumped to my feet instantly, shuffling around to find a change of clothes. I maneuvered around Natasha to the bathroom, closing the door lightly in her face, hearing her chuckle on the other side.

"I'll just wait here," she managed, between giggles. I changed as quickly as possible, tossing my pajamas into the hamper before pulling my hair up in a ponytail and giving myself a once-over in the mirror. That would do. I opened the bathroom door, Natasha stumbling into the room a bit, since she had been leaning – apparently – on the dor.

"Real smooth," I chuckled, moving past her after a white tendril reached out to help steady her. Natasha chuckled and shook her head.

"You're going to pay for that one, Brock." Oh, we were back to last names now. This was serious.

...

Three hours later, and I was well aware of just how serious it was. I was drenched in sweat from head to toe, dodging and ducking every punch the redhead threw at me. Natasha, of course, didn't have a single hair out of place, and I looked like melting silly putty. I finally raised my hand in surrender, bending over double and trying to catch my breath. Natasha tossed her gloves playfully and they bounced off of my head as I glared at her.

"Thanks for that," I mumbled.

"All I asked was that you fight fair with no 'enhancements,'" she countered. I inhaled sharply, ignoring the stitch in my side.

"Yeah, and then you just came after me for three hours," I panted. Natasha crouched down in front of me, playfully throwing a towel up into my hands.

"Defense is an important skill too, you know," she teased. I wiped the sweat from my forehead before throwing the towel back at her. "Ew." I laughed, standing upright and heading towards the elevator.

"I'm starving, are you coming?" Natasha laughed, dunking the towel into the laundry bin before gathering up her water bottle and other belongings and following after me. We moved around each other like old pros in the kitchen, both throwing ingredients into the blender and making enough of a smoothie for two.

"Breakfast or popcorn?" She asked, a playful smirk on her lips. I rolled my eyes.

"Do you have to ask?" I snarked.

"Popcorn it is," she conceded, grabbing a package from the package and sticking it in the microwave. We sipped our smoothies silently as we waited for the popping sounds to stop. We carried water, smoothies, popcorn, and assorted other snacks into the lounge area. I initially sat beside Natasha, who immediately scrunched up her nose. "You stink!" She chuckled. I laughed.

"Well, it's your fault." She shrugged.

"You go over there, stinky." She gestured towards the other corner of the couch. I shrugged and moved over, taking the popcorn with me. "What's first?" She asked, tossing me the remote.

"Biggest movie of the year, 2011," I responded, flipping through the channels to find the one I was looking for.

"Which was?" I paused in my scrolling to glance sideways at the redhead.

"Harry Potter Finale. The Deathly Hallows, part 2." Natasha's eyes widened.

"You made me watch the rest of those, they were cute!" She exclaimed gleefully. Then her expression soured. "Is this as dark as the last one?" I shrugged.

"In some ways worse, in other ways better," I answered honestly. Natasha grumbled, but nodded at me to continue.

....

About halfway into the movie, when things started getting aligned for the Battle for Hogwarts, my stench had apparently either disappeared or was no longer too offensive, because Natasha's head was on my shoulder and she was insistently sharing my blanket. She'd clench at every dramatic moment.

That's the thing about Natasha. She can watch horror movies all day long and not blink an eye, but when it came to emotional ones, she was a wreck. I think it was because she was never allowed to experience her emotions, being raised the way she was, so every time she was exposed to a new situation, it opened up a lot of new feelings for her. Every once in a while, I'd slowly flex my fingers to ensure that I still had blood flow left in my arm with how tightly she was gripping me. This was...not bad.

At one point during the final battle sequences, Tony came into the room, perching on the corner of one of the ottomans. "Who's winning?" He asked, munching on some sort of fruit snack. Natasha threw a pillow at him with perfect, precision aim. He left not too long after that.

Once the end credits started rolling, Steve and Natasha were in a heated debate about the cultural importance of Harry Potter, and I sat back contentedly on the couch, congratulating myself on a job well done.

Three movies later, two take-out meals, and some playful popcorn flinging later, the three of us each claimed our own couch, lazily staring at the screen and drifting in and out of consciousness when somehow Natasha and Steve began another round of their argument about Harry Potter again.

Two hours later, the two were still fighting, and I laughed as I excused myself from the slowly-heating argument and made my way back to my room. I had escaped before Natasha could rope me into training in the morning, meaning I could sleep in. And that was my favorite kind of morning.