ahawkeyesview requested:

Clint slithered down the man, making sure to keep incredibly close his hands on Eames' thighs as he moved around. He nuzzled the inside of the forger's legs, as he made his way back up his and straddled his lap, rolling his hips and working his pants off.

Eames’ jeans were already uncomfortably tight before all of this had started. Now? They were extremely uncomfortable and he was having a hard time sitting still. But he’d promised Clint that he would keep his hands to himself even though all he wanted to do was drag him down and do things until he would forget his own name. “Christ Clint should I be asking just how you know how to do these things?”