No, this wasn't the coffee shop, this was his place, his private place with his nest full of blankets, with various bottles of nail polish all over the place, but each one safely capped. Lucky was probably napping upstairs somewhere and --
It was good. Just, all of it. He'd never really thought, when he'd accidentally shown up here, that this was where he'd end up being. In a spot he liked, with a woman he loved. Happy, which was -- so incredibly difficult for him to manage most days.
Yes was good enough - even without the word, really. She needn't say it in other languages, because the point was clear.
She tasted good, like he remembered, sort of but better. And also like maybe she'd just had a bit of candy. Or something. Her hands were nice in his hair, a little demanding but it wasn't like Clint wasn't forever happy about someone who knew exactly what they wanted and how to take it.
Clint helped her move, hands trailing up the back of her thighs to help her situate, and so that he could pull her closer like touching wasn't enough, and maybe they could work on that, find a way to be closer.