"I'm bored"
“You’ve said that for the hundredth time now,” Marc replies, looking up from the map spread out over the desk. Clint leans against the doorjamb. Arms crossed and his gaze firmly on him. He is wearing old, faded sweatpants that were once light purple, but now have a slight gray tinge.
Marc doesn't know when Clint snuck his own clothes into his closet, but he likes it. He likes that Clint feels comfortable enough here to put his clothes in the closet. However, it's the sweater that catches his attention. "You're worse than a magpie," he murmurs and Clint comes towards him, grinning. “You like it,” Clint counters, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. He sees that the nails are already a new shade of purple, except for the left little fingernail, which is painted a dark orange.
Marc rolls his eyes, reaches for his sweater and pulls Clint forward slightly. He can feel Clint's satisfied smile against his lips and it excites something inside him. It's disgustingly domestic. And he would walk through a fire just to keep it. In the beginning it was nothing more than letting off steam. They both like sex without complicated feelings. It was easy. Clint is a simple person with a pleasant personality.
Marc doesn't know exactly when he started developing feelings. All he knows is that at a certain point something changed. The sex became more than just letting off steam and adrenaline. There was breakfast in the diner. There were meetings during the day. He met Lucky. He almost killed - it turns out Clint's old mentor from the circus - a guy with a sword because he slipped into Clint's life and injured him.
It's shockingly easy to love Clint.
It's shockingly easy to be loved by Clint.
A hand places itself on the back of his neck and pulls him closer. The kiss is soft and longing. They both want more. Marc feels it in the hand on his neck and his own growing desire. He lets go of the sweater and leans back again. Clint makes a whining noise. “I have work to do,” says Marc, pointing to the map. Red circles decorate certain areas of New York.
“Okay,” Clint sighs a little breathlessly and runs his hands through his hair. It just makes the mess on his head even messier. “Then I’ll just call Bucky and ask if he wants to hang out.” Marc knows exactly what Clint is doing. And he hates that it works. His hand lands on Clint's, holding him to the desk. "You're so annoying sometimes," Marc murmurs, linking their hands and leading Clint around the table.
Clint's gait is amused, almost floating, and his free hand lands on Marc's chest, where he grips the fabric of his shirt. “I know,” Clint replies cheerfully. There is an ominous glint in his eyes and Marc could drown in it. And he probably will one day. But that day is not today.
He starts kissing Clint's neck. That little soft sensitive spot right under the ear that causes Clint to melt against him and make a sweet noise. Marc maneuvers them again. Clint takes a seat on the desk and Marc slides between his thighs. It makes Marc feel bigger. While Marc continues to work on the spot on his neck, Clint's hands wander. They slide under his shirt, sending shivers through his body.
Marc likes Clint's hands.
They're big and rough from all that archery. They are strong and yet he feels like a porcelain doll every time. “You are not a vampire. “Move,” Clint sighs, but Marc doesn’t think about leaving this place alone now. He bites gently into the soft skin and Clint's hands claw at his back. It will leave a mark. Clint groans and curses. Marc kisses the spot apologetically and looks at the purple red spot.
It will be hard to hide this stain. “You damn vampire,” Clint mutters, sounding more amused than pissed off. “You like it,” Marc grins and Clint nods in agreement, his cheeks slightly pink. Marc places his lips on Clint's. It is soft and demanding. They both want more. Clint's legs wrap around his thighs, pulling him closer. Marc leans forward and presses Clint down.
Hands begin to move again. Teasing and scratching gently against his skin. He begins to remove Clint's sweatpants and Clint gasps when Marc touches him. It's a honey-sweet sound and Marc wants to hear it again. He begins by gently moving his hand up and down, increasing or decreasing his pressure. Clint sighs.
His eyes close contentedly and his hips move towards him. Marc places small kisses as Clint's hands find their way out from under his shirt and into his hair. “Fuck Marc,” Clint sighs, tugging on a strand of hair as Marc applies more pressure. He likes the way Clint sighs his name. It rolls off his tongue like it's the only thought in Clint's brain.
He spends a few more moments pleasuring Clint. Watching Clint writhe under his grip, his body demanding more. Clint's left hand lands on Marc's neck again and pulls him closer. They share a quick kiss, which is sloppy and lustful. “More,” Clint demands, looking at him with blue-gray eyes. Marc stands up, grinning. “And here I thought you were bored and would rather hang out with Barnes,” Marc teases, brushing a curl of hair out of his face.
Clint rolls his eyes, smiling. “You’re such an ass sometimes,” Clint says, reaching for Marc’s shirt. “I know,” Marc replies before Clint kisses him. Clint starts pulling on his pants, which is a bit awkward, but Marc takes the hint and pulls his pants down. He groans as Clint's hand reaches for him. He can feel Clint's satisfied grin against his lip. Teasingly, he gently bites Clint's bottom lip, which startles Clint slightly but makes him groan. At the same time, Clint increases the pressure on his hand.
Both know each other's weak points.
Marc can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. It demands more. Every cell in his body demands more. With his free hand he opens the top drawer and rummages around for a condom. Clint's free hand ends up in his hair again and begins to tug at the strands impatiently. It elicits a pleasant moan from him and makes Clint smile. “So impatient?” Marc asks between kisses and Clint nods. In the far corner, he finds what he was looking for and opens the slide.
“Is that purple?” Clint asks, looking at the condom in his hands with an amused grin. "Only for you. You like it?". Clint nods enthusiastically. "Absolutly. It's a shame I won't be able to see it for long." “Don’t worry-” Marc starts and puts it on. “I’ll make you feel it.” Clint smiles enthusiastically. Marc positions himself between Clint's legs and slowly slides into Clint. “Fuck,” Clint moans blissfully, reaching for Marc’s hand. Their hands connect like two pieces of a puzzle. Marc leans forward and kisses the purple red mark on the right side of Clint's neck.
“You look so pretty, Clinton,” Marc murmurs, squeezing Clint’s hand. “I wish you could see yourself. So messy and so good for me”. Marc kisses the spot again and Clint moans pleasantly. “Always so good for me.” Marc begins to move. Small gentle movements. The warmth emanating from Clint and the sweet tightness around him sends one shiver after the next through his body and he tries not to completely lose control of the pleasure.
“More,” Clint demands breathlessly, pulling at his hair. Marc is only too happy to follow this order. He quickens his pace a bit and Clint lifts his hips, changing the angle. They both moan happily. “Oh right there,” Clint gasps, a noise escaping his lips that immediately chases Marc. “Do that again,” says Marc breathlessly, trying to hit the same spot again. It takes two tries, but he hits the spot and the sound that fills his ears is like heavenly music.
He feels the pleasure building. It's like a warm summer day where the heat increases hour by hour and reaches its peak in the afternoon. Clint's eyes are closed, but Marc studies his face, memorizing every little detail. The freckles that stand out through the flushed cheek. The lips which are swollen from kissing and biting.
“So, so pretty,” Marc murmurs, squeezing his hand. He feels Clint's body changing. Feel the shaking and uneven breathing. He knows Clint will come. He maintains the pace and pressure. Indulge himself in the ecstasy of liberating pleasure. "Marc...I...I-" Clint mumbles to himself and Marc kisses him. Clint tenses around him. Clint's climax is as sweet as honey. “So so good for me,” Marc murmurs, arriving a few moments later.
His whole body tenses with pleasure. It feels like a wave is hitting him with all its force and he can only float in the water as it washes over him. He remains in this position. Stay a moment in Clint's warmth and presence. Clint's eyes are now open and on him. There is a happier expression in the eyes. “That was fun,” Clint says breathlessly, brushing a strand of hair out of Marc’s face.
Another wave washes over him.
But, it is not lust or desire.
It's affection.
“Yes,” Marc says in agreement. "that was funny"