The bedroom. They spent too much time in bedrooms and Natasha was, well, not bored by it. Clint didn't bore her, not in the least but tonight after weeks of playing another person she wanted more than some roll around in the sheets. Maybe later.

The table groaned and creaked and she laughed, shaking her head. Not the first time. They come together like waves on rocks. It's messy and dangerous, they celebrate life by destroying each other, knowing they can take it.

She brushes her bra away, hangs it by its strap on the coat rack, making a sound in the back of her throat as her legs returned back around his waist. "Walls are definitely surfaces Barton."

Leaning her weight back on the wall, using it for leverage as hips rolled against his, hands on his shoulders. "You have no idea how many times I've thought of this moment since the job started."