Date: 2011-12-20 08:05 pm (UTC)
Phil's hands slither under his suit jacket as soon as Clint is close enough, sliding against his sides and stroking up his back, like a brand over Clint's shirt. Clint gasps when Phil's mouth fits over his, pulling him closer so he can get his hands on more of Clint, one hand closing tight over Clint's ass. Clint grunts and jerks forward, plastering himself against Phil's front and the thick shape of his cock against Clint's lower belly. There's a desperate moan ringing in his ears, and it takes Clint a moment to realise it's coming from him. Phil's grip tightens.

The lift dings, and the doors start to open. It's one of the hardest things Clint has ever done to step away from Phil; he has to brace himself against the wall of the cabin because his knees feel a little shaky from the overwhelming need churning in his stomach, to step back against Phil, press him into the wall and kiss him stupid.

Phil makes the decision for him, placing a warm hand at the small of his back and ushering him out into the car park. Clint goes, because he wants to, and because just that muted touch is enough to send shivers all the way down his spine. All he can think is that he hopes to god that Phil's apartment isn't too far, or they're never going to make it, and he wants Phil's big, sure hands all over his naked skin.
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