By now, he knows which buttons he has to press to get those cute noises from Clint. He knows about every sensitive part. He knows how Clint reacts to inner thigh kisses. He knows that Clint isn't immune to kisses and love-bites on the neck. He knows that Clint will complain as soon as he sees the reddish purple markings, but he will also get flushed cheeks and a big smile.
He knows there's a tender spot above Clint's hipbone and when he kisses it, Clint will automatically grab his hair and sigh heavenly. He knows when to take it slow and gentle. He also knows when things can get faster and harsher. He knows what to say and he knows Clint will follow his voice.
"Marc".
It's a whisper swallowed by sighs. He will never get enough of it. "Marc-" Clint begins softly. "I want...I think I-". Marc slows the pace, which earns him a grumpy noise. He leans forward. "I need full sentences Clinton," he whispers in Clint's ear. "I want to come," Clint replies quietly and Marc places a kiss under the ear. It was a long way, to get that close to the ears. He knows how carefull Clint is, when it comes to his ears. "Wasn't that difficult mh?". Another kiss is placed. “But I think you can hold on for a few more moments. Can you?".
Clint swallows the words that are on his tongue and nods. Marc smiles contentedly and picks up the pace. "You're such a good boy to me-" he murmurs and Clint lets out a sweet sigh. Clint lets go of his hair and links their hands together. He knows the effect those words have on Clint. And as he whispers more and more meaningful and less meaningful words, Clint's eyes are on him.
Full of warmth and desire. Full of attention reserved only for him. He would kill anyone who dared to stand between him and the expression. He could drown in this affection. He holds onto it as if it were a star in the endless and dark night sky. It is his light and he will keep it bright.
He loses himself in the pleasure. Words fall out of him. Sweet noises lead him forward. The grip on his hand tightens. "Want to come for me?" he asks and Clint nods absently. The heavenly sound of Clint brings him over the abyss himself.
He collapses next to Clint. Floating in the warm and blissful feeling of a climax. The moon could explode and it wouldn't care. All that matters now is the man next to him. Their hands are still connected and Clint slowly runs his thumb down the back of his hand.
It's relaxing.
It's soft.
He knows he'll never get enough of it.