Tony shrugged, cocking his head to the side. “I’ll go down to legal in a few days, rattle the cages. PR, too. Get everyone geared up so I can sit back and enjoy the show.” Eyes hooded, he licked his bottom lip, gaze trailing every familiar scar and mark and dip of skin he could see - and tracing the path of the ones he knew were there, but were still covered at the moment. “Really, I’m past the point of giving a damn about what the media thinks.”
He groaned, tilting his head the other way to expose more skin to Clint’s lips. “Okay, so we’ll table that suggestion for now, so to speak.” His fingers hooked through Clint’s belt loops, tugging as he walked backwards toward the bedroom. “I love when you come up with these ideas, they always go well.”
Not letting go until he felt the back of his knees hit the mattress, Tony kept pressing quick kisses to Clint’s cheek, chin, ear, lips, pulling back before anything could deepen. He fell back on the mattress, propping himself up on his elbows and bending one knee.
"Weren’t you always?" Clint asked, amused, as he followed Tony, his hands still on his lover’s waist and never stopping looking for skin he could kiss. "Don’t say things like this, you’re tempting fate." After all, they wanted those ideas to continue going well…
When pulled through the door, Clint’s hand quickly searched for the light switch, but couldn’t find it in time before Tony continued to the bed. Well, there was just enough light pouring through the door anyway. It would work. For a few seconds Clint’s eyes ran over Tony’s form on his bed, just drinking in the sight, before he crawled onto the bed, kissing Tony and catching his wrists to raise them over his head. “You’re so damn handsy..:”, he breathed, hardly containing a grin, before he pulled the tie from his neck and sat up to wrap it around Tony’s wrist, leaving it in a knot.
Content, he sat to inspect his work, then dragged a finger along Tony’s neck and to his chest. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you suffer for too long.” Clint moved, kissing along the line of Tony’s stomach, glancing up before he reached the fabric of his lover’s jeans and, with a smirk, mouthed over it, all hot breath and wet tongue.