Rooftop Kisses
Tony found Clint at his usual spot on the rooftop. Leaning against the railing looking out onto the buildings below him.
“Looks like you need some company.” Tony said in a joking tone.
“Hah, yeah.” He scoffed. Watching as Tony slowly walked towards the railing beside him. Their hands inches apart.
The moment hung in the air, impossibly fragile and yet crackling with intensity. Clint didn’t move at first, his hand still lingering by Tony’s, his thumb brushing faintly against the other man’s wrist. He stared at Tony, the last vestiges of hesitation flickering in his eyes.
But when Tony leaned in just slightly—barely noticeable, except for the way his breath ghosted across Clint’s cheek—that was all the permission Clint needed. He closed the distance, pressing his lips against Tony’s, and the world around them seemed to vanish.
The first kiss was slow, deliberate. Clint’s lips were warm and firm, testing the waters as he moved against Tony’s. The touch wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was measured, almost reverent, as if Clint was cataloging the feel of Tony’s mouth, the way their shapes fit together. Tony’s lips parted slightly in response, and the soft exhale that escaped him was almost a sigh, filled with relief and something deeper, something unspoken.
Clint tilted his head, adjusting the angle, and the kiss deepened. His lips caught on Tony’s lower lip, dragging it gently before releasing it. Tony responded in kind, his movements unhurried but deliberate, meeting Clint’s exploration with his own. The pressure of Tony’s mouth increased subtly, his lips sliding against Clint’s in a way that was both firm and teasing, leaving just enough space between them to make Clint chase the connection.
Tony’s hand came up, his fingers brushing against Clint’s jawline. The touch was soft, barely there, but it sent a shiver down Clint’s spine. Tony’s thumb traced along the edge of Clint’s cheekbone, his palm resting against the rough stubble. Clint leaned into the touch, his lips parting further, inviting Tony in.
This kiss was different—hungrier, more intense. Clint shifted closer, his hand sliding to the back of Tony’s neck, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair. He tugged gently, and Tony let out a soft, muffled sound against his mouth, something between a gasp and a groan. Tony’s lips moved with more urgency now, catching and pulling at Clint’s, their breaths mingling in the charged space between them.
Clint’s teeth grazed Tony’s lower lip, a soft nip that made Tony’s breath hitch. The sharpness was brief, almost teasing, but it was enough to send heat flooding through both of them. Tony’s free hand slid to Clint’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. Their bodies pressed together, the kiss deepening further as Tony tilted his head, his tongue darting out to brush against Clint’s lip.
Clint opened to him without hesitation, the kiss turning molten as their tongues met. The touch was tentative, exploratory, but it quickly grew bolder. Tony’s tongue swept against Clint’s, slow and deliberate, coaxing rather than demanding. Clint responded in kind, matching Tony’s movements with equal intensity. Their tongues slid together, a push and pull of give and take, tasting and teasing in a rhythm that felt natural, instinctive.
Clint’s hand tightened in Tony’s hair as the kiss became all-consuming. He angled his head further, deepening the connection, his lips moving against Tony’s with a raw intensity that left no room for doubt. Tony’s grip on Clint’s waist tightened in response, his fingers digging in just enough to anchor them both.
Time seemed to blur. The kisses flowed seamlessly, shifting between slow, lingering caresses and desperate, breathless collisions. Tony’s lips were impossibly soft, yet his movements were firm, deliberate, each kiss a carefully crafted message. Clint matched him beat for beat, his mouth conveying everything he couldn’t put into words.
Finally, they broke apart, their foreheads pressing together as they panted for breath. Clint’s hand was still in Tony’s hair, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against the back of his neck. Tony’s fingers lingered at Clint’s waist, his touch warm and grounding. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound between them the faint rhythm of their breathing.
“Wow,” Tony finally said, his voice low and rough. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
Clint huffed out a laugh, his lips quirking into a small, almost shy smile. “Guess not.”
Tony pulled back just enough to meet Clint’s gaze, his expression soft but serious. “Tell me this wasn’t just a one-time thing.”
“It’s not,” Clint said without hesitation, his voice steady. “It’s not.”
Tony’s lips curved into a slow, genuine smile, and he leaned in again, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of Clint’s mouth. It wasn’t as fiery as the ones before, but it carried just as much weight, just as much meaning.
“Good,” Tony murmured, his breath warm against Clint’s skin. “Because I’m not letting you go that easily.”
Clint’s smile widened, his hand sliding down to rest against Tony’s chest, where he could feel the faint, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”