Hey everyone! Welcome to day 22. I'm sick as fuck right now and since I already did fever, I thought I'd turn today's word into a sick fic. Enjoy and don't forget to comment if you enjoy!

Moya zvezda - my star

Moya solyensko - my sunshine

Kotyonok - kitten

SHOWER

Many people thought that showering together was the sexiest thing two lovers could do together.

Natasha and Clint weren't like many people.

Sure showers could be fun and sexy, but in their line of work they were also soothing and very much needed after a hard mission.

Clint and Natasha had had a particularly rough mission and after both spending a couple of days in medical, were desperate for a shower, clean clothes and food.

Clint had his arm around Natasha's waist, helping her as she limped into their now shared room.

Her ankle wasn't broken, just badly sprained but it was still painful to walk on so she didn't mind the help.

Once in the bathroom, Clint helped her strip out of her clothes and directed her under the warm spray of water.

She groaned softly, wincing. The tensing of her shoulders sent her into a coughing fit and she braced her hands on the wall.

They'd been caught in an explosion, and whilst they'd barely been hurt during it, the building had caught on fire soon after, filling the halls with thick dark smoke.

It had taken Natasha longer to free herself from the debris and by the time Clint had found her outside the building, she'd been passed out on the grass, struggling to breathe.

Medical had been giving her oxygen for the past three days and her lungs had cleared up immeasurably, but being on her feet after three days' rest had aggravated the coughing again.

He turned her from the wall, guiding her to sit down. They'd had a sort of...shower bench installed, for moments exactly like this.

The redhead blinked silently as the wracking coughs died down to little ones.

"Easy, Tash, as soon as we're done we'll get you back on some oxygen." Clint murmured, gently wiping over her face and shoulders with a wash cloth.

"I hate...feeling so weak." She murmured, her voice raspy and hoarse.

"I know, Nat, but sometimes this is how it is. And you're not weak, you're just sick." He shook his head as he carefully wiped the grime from the rest of her body.

When that was done, he quickly scrubbed at himself until he was pink and clean.

He washed Natasha's hair next, gently combing through the tangles and sticky bits of God knows what.

He lathered her favourite shampoo over her hair, digging his fingers into her scalp.

She exhaled shakily, humming and tilting her head back.

He smiled, slightly smug that he was the only one permitted to get close enough to do this sort of thing.

He rinsed her hair, keeping the spray of water from her face.

"All done, moya zvezda." He hummed, turning off the water and lifting her to her feet.

He wrapped her up in a towel and guided her to the bed. In just those seconds, she was coughing again. Deep, painful coughs that shook her entire body.

He made quick work of getting her into some clothes, his sweatpants and old tee.

He pressed her back against the copious amounts of pillows, knowing the coughing would be worse if she lay down fully.

He pulled over the oxygen tank, pressing the mask over her face.

When her coughing had lessened, her breathing a little better, he took the mask off and replaced it with the tube that went up her nose.

She looked exhausted, her eyelids already drooping.

He sat back too, gently pulling her to lean her head against his chest.

"Thanks, kotyonok." Natasha murmured, forcing her eyes open to look up at him.

"Of course, moya solensyko. You know I'd do anything for you." He hummed.

"Even get me some food?" She smiled wryly.

Clint chuckled. "Of course."

"Foot rub?"

"You got it, Nat."

"Hmm...sing for me?"

"As you wish."

The redhead smiled, "I never should've let you watch The Princess Bride. You never stop quoting it."

Clint grinned, shrugging. "What can I say, I'm a nerd and you love me for it."

"Yeah. I do." She sighed softly, nuzzling against his chest. She was always...craving touch when she was sick and Clint was more than happy to give it to her.

"But really, I am hungry." She waggled her eyebrows.

Clint chuckled and nodded, gently placing her back against the cushions and standing.

"Any preference?" He hummed.

"My throat is killing me so...jello? Ice cream?"

"Of course m'lady." He bent over, bowing and sweeping his arm. "At your service."

Natasha rolled her eyes, throwing a cushion at him. "Shut it, Barton."

"You'd hate it if I actually shut up." He grinned. "I'll be back soon."

...

Clint came back soon indeed, his arms full and an easy grin on his face.

"I raided the fridges and went down to the canteen." He poured his findings onto the bed.

"Vanilla pudding, strawberry jello, three kinds of juice, peanut butter sandwich and you would not believe how difficult it was to find mint choc chip ice cream."

"My hero." Natasha pretended to swoon, but she was secretly very pleased.

"What would you do without me?" Clint hummed, taking his place back at the top of the bed, pulling the food over to them.

...

The next day was spent in bed, eating soft foods until her throat felt better, watching films and playing board games.

It felt amazing to have some down time and when they next showered, Natasha was feeling a lot better and so they could make use of the shower bench in a completely different way.

...

;) ;) ;)