clint/coulson, tie kink + blindfold
"Can you see anything?"
Clint turned his head to either side, seeing nothing but darkness through Phil's tie. "No," he admitted.
Phil hummed approvingly.
Clint tensed, readying himself for, well, whatever Phil wanted to do, but… nothing happened. "Phil?" he asked.
"Just breathe," Phil instructed.
Clint nodded, and slowly, muscle by muscle, relaxed, until he lay on the bed, loose and limber. Finally, Phil began to touch him, starting at his ankles, gun-calloused fingers tracing the curve of his calves, then his thighs, the sensitive skin between his leg and body. Clint whimpered as Phil bypassed his cock in favor of raking his finger through the dark line of hair on his stomach, up to tease his nipples, then the sensitive skin behind his ears.
It seemed every other sense was exaggerated because of his lack of sight, and even the sound of Phil's breath was erotic. Clint could smell the faint odor of soap and gun oil that always seemed to cling to Phil, and when he leaned in to kiss Clint, he tasted the beer they'd been drinking earlier that night. "Feel good?" Phil asked, running his palms down Clint's biceps.
Clint grinned. "Yeah, you do."