Steve watches Clint drink the glass of water he'd given him. He can't help it. They're already set the precedent of the type of activity they'll be doing, and he likes the line of his throat when he swallows. Hopefully, Clint doesn't think he's being strange, there's just such an easy intimacy between them, and Steve has always been an artist at heart.

That's not what they're here for, though. Steve moves closer and settles his hand on Clint's thigh. "That can be arranged," he says. He's definitely eager to bend over for Clint, but maybe not to the point of begging just yet.

"I want all of those things," he admits. "I've never been too picky about getting my rocks off." Considering the secrecy and lack of privacy needed during the war, he and Bucky had gotten quite creative. He and Peggy too. And all three of them.

The thing about Natasha though... Steve feels himself hardening up again at that idea. "Has Natasha ever... with you?" he asks curiously. Steve prefers men, feels like he always has, but he's been known to make exceptions for exceptional women. Both Peggy and Natasha are certainly that.