[Pacing can go fuck itself, quite like in the way they should fuck each other, frankly.
The way things are looking like they're going, his ass will probably hate him for that sentiment in the morning. But they're both ready and willing to have a good time, and Clint is going to ride that as far as it'll take them. He's seen Steve in tops that leave very little to the imagination. Hell, they've all seen each other in various states of dress and undress, whether stripped down at the gym or in medical or--well, everyone's gotten an eyeful of Bruce enough that that's mostly stopped being awkward. The context makes the difference, though. That Steve's stripped shirtless here, for him, in his kitchen, with the intent of touching, being touched, being on very personal display.
He'll get plenty of time to properly appreciate later, he's sure, because Steve doesn't give him much time before there's more kissing, and then much more importantly, there are hands pulling at fabric. He's never seen Steve like this before. Figures few people have. There's always such tight control, not no-nonsense but keeping just enough distance to only ever be friendly. It can't be easy to be a man out of time, but this is much better, this looseness, this casual intimacy, this--getting him out of his fucking pants paired with being gentlemanly enough not to look too hard right away. Clint can't help but bark out a fuller laugh, unhooking his legs briefly to help tug them all the way off to join the other bits of fabric they're losing.
Terribly appealing, this. Firm hands and solid arms picking him up like a bag of real sexy groceries. The return teasing. He slings his arms loosely over Steve's shoulders, idly scratching along skin that will never keep any damage. It might be nice to see, though. Some nice red lines before they inevitably disappear in record time. It isn't a long carry, and when he kisses back, it's deep and savoring, with only a hint of teeth this time.
When he feels all too familiar couch fabric under him, the hint of teeth becomes a sharp bite.] You passed a couple perfectly good walls, you know. [A tease. It's, you know, another perfectly viable option.]
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The way things are looking like they're going, his ass will probably hate him for that sentiment in the morning. But they're both ready and willing to have a good time, and Clint is going to ride that as far as it'll take them. He's seen Steve in tops that leave very little to the imagination. Hell, they've all seen each other in various states of dress and undress, whether stripped down at the gym or in medical or--well, everyone's gotten an eyeful of Bruce enough that that's mostly stopped being awkward. The context makes the difference, though. That Steve's stripped shirtless here, for him, in his kitchen, with the intent of touching, being touched, being on very personal display.
He'll get plenty of time to properly appreciate later, he's sure, because Steve doesn't give him much time before there's more kissing, and then much more importantly, there are hands pulling at fabric. He's never seen Steve like this before. Figures few people have. There's always such tight control, not no-nonsense but keeping just enough distance to only ever be friendly. It can't be easy to be a man out of time, but this is much better, this looseness, this casual intimacy, this--getting him out of his fucking pants paired with being gentlemanly enough not to look too hard right away. Clint can't help but bark out a fuller laugh, unhooking his legs briefly to help tug them all the way off to join the other bits of fabric they're losing.
Terribly appealing, this. Firm hands and solid arms picking him up like a bag of real sexy groceries. The return teasing. He slings his arms loosely over Steve's shoulders, idly scratching along skin that will never keep any damage. It might be nice to see, though. Some nice red lines before they inevitably disappear in record time. It isn't a long carry, and when he kisses back, it's deep and savoring, with only a hint of teeth this time.
When he feels all too familiar couch fabric under him, the hint of teeth becomes a sharp bite.] You passed a couple perfectly good walls, you know. [A tease. It's, you know, another perfectly viable option.]