Clint Barton (
from_a_distance) wrote2014-06-18 11:44 am
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Open Birthday Post
For most of Clint's life, his birthday has not been a very big deal to just about anybody. When he was really little, there were cupcakes, and sometimes games and once (he thinks) friends, but that didn't last long, and the group home was not big on birthdays, and in the circus nobody really cared, and since then...well, as you get older, birthdays just stop being as big of a deal.
At least, that's what he always tells himself. And that's why he never tells anybody when his birthday is. Doesn't matter anyway. It's just another year.
At least, that's what he always tells himself. And that's why he never tells anybody when his birthday is. Doesn't matter anyway. It's just another year.
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"Jesus...almost..."
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His soapy hands roaming a little lower. "Feelin' good, birthday boy."
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He presses slowly, metal fingers rubbing Clint's hip, "Let me in baby." He murmurs.
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He mouths at Clint's neck and stops moving once he's fully inside, giving Clint a moment to adjust. "You feel fan-fucking-tastic." He murmurs nipping at Clint's earlobe. "Still okay?" He asks, because the last thing he wants to do is hurt the man.
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"Yeah," he groans. "Yeah, it's...fuck, it's good."
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"Fuck Clint... love hearing you." He says picking up the pace just a little, letting things build up.
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Whoops
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