Winterhawk Writing

Twenty 1

"Tell me what you need," Clint murmured against Bucky's ear, and the the tickle of his breath sent a shudder down his spine.
"I need.." Fuck, when did he get so out of breath? Clint let out a breathy chuckle and pressed him further into the wall, hitching his thigh a little higher between Bucky's legs while he lathered Bucky's neck in hot kisses.
"God, Clint. I can't think," Bucky gave a weak push at his broad shoulders all the while letting his head fall back against the wall to give Clint more room.
"Mm, I think I know what you need."
Bucky could feel the wicked grin Clint had pressed to his throat. "Yeah? What's that?"
Clint pulled back and Bucky's knees went weak at the sight of his kiss-swollen lips, heavily lidded eyes, and finger mussed hair. "I think that," he paused and pressed a quick kiss to Bucky's lips. "You need some water, you seem parched."
And just like that Clint pulled away. Without his support Bucky stumbled forward and growled. "Clint, I swear to god if you don't get back here."
"You'll what?" Clint taunted, dancing out of Bucky's reach before twisting on his heel to run back into the bedroom.
Bucky tried not to follow, he really did, but the sight of Clint's boxer brief clad ass disappearing had Bucky following with plenty of grumbling.