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Clint Barton is going back to bed. (today_sucks) wrote in snapthread,

It wasn't like Clint had ever been bad or lacking at this type of situation - not even remotely, and it wasn't like he didn't have plenty of experience under his belt (and that wasn't bragging, it was just the truth) but he'd be the first to admit there just hadn't been a lot of moments like these.

Natasha was so damned eager, so into it that he was just -- well. He got a lot from it, in ways he couldn't fully describe. Like, sure obvious erection was obvious even through his jeans what with how she was rocking against him, but also like -- a little emotionally? He probably could not have described it even if he tried.

Clint pulled away just enough to get his shirt off completely, tossing purple to the side before shifting again, practically picking Natasha up (and that was fun, really, particularly since he knew there weren't a lot of time he could do that without the threat of bodily harm) only to put her down again in the mess of blankets and pillows.

"Keep it on," he agreed, because fuck he loved her in that necklace. He proved it by leaning down and kissing right below it one more time. Everything was probably pushing it today, but Clint would give it a go. He cupped her breasts, the pads of his thumbs tracing over her nips, his touch calloused but gentle, like he was learning it all too -- taking the time to figure her out.