bakerstreet | The Morning After Meme

Oh, she could definitely feel his interest pressing against her from behind, but she was in a playful mood so she imitated his pout instead of letting him off easy. “Should we hold off until you’re had your coffee, then?” she said, the pout even more obvious in her voice. Removing her hands from his ass pulled away as much as she could with his arm around her, getting at least a bit of space between their bodies. “I would hate for you to be embarrassed that you couldn’t keep up.”

His arm curled just that much tighter, keeping her close even though he knew full well that if she really wanted to get away she would have, "Noooo, verbal keep-upping needs coffee, not physical."

There was a definite whine there, but it was mostly so that he didn't start laughing, and the amusement was likely clear in his tone.

Natasha knew she wouldn’t get far before he tightened his arm around her and pulled her flush against his body again. That was exactly where she wanted to be and they both knew it.

“Oh, well, I don’t know...” she said, failing to keep the laughter out of her voice, but honestly, his whining tone was too funny. “Maybe you should set the pace and see how well I can keep up.” Once again she squirmed against him, knowing just how to move to further pique his interest, so to speak.

The movement was something he was absolutely fine with, and his head dipped to nibble at the curve of her shoulder once more, hand flat against her stomach, keeping her close, "I could, but we both know you'd get bored."

Not necessarily, but Clint tended to like taking his time, where Natasha didn't usually.

Laying her head back on his shoulder, she arched her back away from him and ran on hand down over her own body before stopping to rest of his hand on her stomach.

“Mmm, well maybe it’s time you taught me a little patience,” she turned her head and purred against his ear before sucking at his earlobe.

The nibbling at his ear made him smile, mostly because it put her head at the exact right angle for him to return the favor along the line of her throat, something that he wouldn't even think of doing under any other circumstances.

"Mmm, I think we can try it again, sure. Didn't go so well last time, as I recall." Though that had been at least partly his fault for continuing to dawdle even after threats on his life.

Natasha chuckled and bit a little harder at his ear, not enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a temporary mark. “There’s a difference between patience and simply being agonizingly slow,” she said. She actually enjoyed a bit of foreplay, but Clint had this knack for drawing everything out until she practically had to pin him down and ravish him. She suspected he took great pleasure in pushing her buttons and seeing how far he could push her before she snapped. Or he simply enjoyed driving her crazy with desire. Probably both.

“Now how about you show me what else you can do with those skilled hands.” She squeezed the hand on her stomach pointedly.

Definitely both, mostly because the level of button-pushing necessary to make her take over (which he not-so-secretly enjoyed) varied from time to time, and as far as he was concerned that was half the fun.

"we should." He agreed, pressing a kiss to the slope of her shoulder, "Lead the way."

There seemed to be a disconnect between what she had said and how he answered, though she thought it was probably more of a disconnect between his mind and his mouth. He had said he couldn’t keep up, mentally, without his coffee, after all. Good thing she wasn’t really interested in his mind this morning.

“You mean you don’t want to stay here? I didn’t even get chance to soap you down,” she replied coyly. Although with his injured leg, trying to stay standing probably wasn’t the best idea.

Keeping hold of his hand she reluctantly pulled away to shut off the water and step over the side of the tub.

He'd be fine staying upright for a while longer, but not being upright sounded like a much, much better idea. He smiled crookedly at that reply, shaking his head, "Rain check. Got more important things to do right now."

He shook out one of the towels, draping it over her shoulders before wrapping himself in the other one, practically burying his face in it, "Hnnngfluffytowel." Clint really was a big fan of creature comforts and simple pleasures.

Taking the towel he draped over her, Natasha ran it down over her shoulders and her arms. “Is that so?” she said, raising a brow. “What sort of things?”

She paused a moment when Clint proceeded to wrap himself up in his towel in a way that made him seem somehow both ridiculous and adorable. Perhaps ridiculously adorable, not that she would ever stoop to using such a word. “I’m beginning to think that the towels are your favourite part of staying in these hotels.”

"And the pillows." He answered automatically, grinning over at her as soon as he'd finished drying his face, squinting out from under the edge of the towel as he scrubbed it over his hair, "Definitely the pillows. And the trying-to-teach-you-patience-again kinds of things."

He was still keeping most of his weight on his good leg, and not being upright any more sounded like a fantastic idea, "Not saying I have plans on how to do that, but I've got a couple ideas."

“Hmm, that is certainly a good list,” Natasha replied, barely able to hold back her on grin. “When you put it like that I can see why you look forward to these little breaks.”

Of course she had her own list as well, and his third item definitely ranked near the top of hers too.

Finishing drying off, she wrapped her hair up in the towel before reaching to trail one finger down his chest. “You work without a plan? I am shocked,” she said, turning away and heading back into the bedroom.

The third one hadn't really been part of the list, it had been an answer to her question, but he still grinned when she called it a list, shaking his head, "Well you asked."

And he laughed softly at the statement, following her back, "I could tell you were totally surprised by that unexpected habit. Total shock, I know." He nodded towards the bed, "Go on and get comfortable."

“Mmhm, and I’m glad I did. Certainly gives me something to think about next time I end up in one of these rooms all by myself...” Natasha replied.

One simple thing she enjoyed about Clint that she had never admitted to was his laugh. It was unique and free, and often they didn’t encounter much in the daily grind that was something to laugh over.

“My world view is entirely shattered,” she continued in a complete deadpan voice. Approaching the bed she climbed back on it on all fours first before flopping over to her back and stretching her arms up over her head to adjust the pillows. “And I thought I knew you so well.”

"Well if I'd known you didn't realize..." He shook his head, "No, I probably still would have dropped that bombshell, actually. I was going to say I wouldn't have, but nah, I totally would have."

He just smiled as he watched her re-adjust herself, head tilted, looking just a little blissed. He did shake himself out of it a moment later, however, padding over to perch on the edge of the bed, scooting just a little closer so that neither of them was going to fall off before smoothing one hand slowly up her thigh, almost petting but not quite.

“I suppose it is good you can still surprise me after all these years,” Natasha replied. Pulling the towel off of her head she tossed it aside and lay back on the pillows and watched his approach. He had a distinctive swagger to his step that made him recognizable even from a great distance, a confidence that many men lacked while not being so overly so that it was annoying. He somehow managed to strike a perfect balance.

“We should probably put a dry bandage on that leg,” she mentioned when he joined her on the bed, his touch slow and gentle. Not to mention her shoulder, though it wasn’t hurting much at the moment, even laying on it, so she didn’t think to mention it.

"Probably should." He said, "Your shoulder, too." He shrugged, fingers sliding back down her thigh again, "Should probably do that before anything else." Not that he made any move to get to the first aid kit just yet, because he was comfortable, and really it wouldn't do much damage to leave the wet ones on a while longer, it was actually kind of soothing at the moment, cool against the torn skin.

His fingers traced along her flank still, half-idle, looping patterns, apparently in no hurry even despite knowing that they really didn't have all day to dawdle.

Of course Clint would remember her injury and make sure to mention it. It was part of the whole ‘partners’ thing, that they look out for each other, usually before they even look out for themselves. “Mmmhmm, probably,” Natasha agreed, but despite their words, he made no move to get fresh bandages and Natasha just snuggled further into wrinkled sheets.

Looking down at the hand he still lightly grazed along her leg, she met his eyes again and raised her eyebrows. “I said teach me patience, not put me to sleep,” she teased.

That earned her another one of his easy, wholehearted smiles, shaking his head, "Are you sure it's not the same thing?" It was a definite tease, however, given as how he shifted his weight again, just a little so that he could keep himself braced while giving that trailing hand a little bit more freedom of movement.

His fingers ran around to the inside of her thigh then, petting still and nudging her legs apart gently as he did so, the movement not-quite subtle and not really meant to be, because she would forever out-subtle him even on her worst days.

Greeted with a smile like that, Natasha could barely hold her own back. “If you can continue this after I’m asleep then I think we need to have a serious discussion about your fetishes,” she said, letting her smile slip finally.

Subtlety certainly wasn’t Clint’s strong suit, he was was a true showman at heart, but Natasha wasn’t interested in being subtle right now. While his hand slid along her thigh she bent the knee of her other leg to the side to give him much easier access.

He gave another warm laugh at that, he couldn't not, and leaned in to press a kiss to her leg, just above her knee, since that was what he could reach in his current position.

His fingers, however, moved higher so that he could run the backs of his knuckles up along her folds. He didn't quite push her open, not yet, he was still testing and cataloging reactions.

Natasha’s grin widened at his laugh. It was kind of amazing how they could go from desperate and rough, pumped up on adrenaline and grateful to be alive last night, to slow and teasing and completely relaxed in the course of only a few hours, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain. Sometimes it was even better like this, when they could just take their time and enjoy each other... as long as he didn’t take too much time.

Her breath hitched slightly when he ran just his knuckles over her, already sensitive from the promising touches and her own imagination in the shower. Grabbing a spare pillow she pulled it over under her head as well to prop herself up a little better so she could watch him.

That just made him smile again, one brow arching though he didn't bother saying anything, since they both knew the only thing he'd say was along the lines of not realizing that she liked to watch.

So he kept quiet, fingers running up along her once more before lifting away, only to repeat the process, finally running the pad of his thumb up over her clit once his fingers had lifted away. He had to admit, he genuinely enjoyed these encounters, partly because they were so few and far between, but that just made them all the better in his opinion.

Natasha noted the look on his face and knew exactly what he was thinking. For her part she simply arched her brow right back at him, though the expression that accompanied it was decidedly more wicked. Of course he was the one in control here, though only because she allowed him to be. Sometimes she enjoyed just giving herself over to him, and she figured he enjoyed the challenge as he always seemed to go about it with great enthusiasm.

Drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth as his fingers moved with agonizingly slow precisions, her lids lowered so she was watching him through hooded eyes. She wanted to buck into his hand, increase the pressure and the contact, but as much as he might see this as a challenge of seeing how far he could push her, it was even more so for her to see how long she could last before her patience ran out and she took over dominance.

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