Oh sure, they'll untangle, retangle, wake up in the morning with limbs and bodies all askew, but they gotta start somewhere cozy. Clint sighs into it, their fingers laced, the kiss pressed tenderly. "Right back at you, boss."
Maybe he'll say it in words someday. Maybe he won't. Maybe the sentiment will translate well enough.
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Maybe he'll say it in words someday. Maybe he won't. Maybe the sentiment will translate well enough.