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xp_logsClint gets home from his trip to Hawai'i and beelines for Sam.
Note: The FTB is for sexual shenanigans, so if you're not interested in the lead-up to that, don't read the last several tags. :)
Suppressing a yawn after dropping his bags in his suite, Clint closed and locked his door behind him before walking to the suite Sam shared with Jay. It was early enough, he was pretty sure he wouldn't run into the younger Guthrie as he let himself inside, then made his way into Sam's room.
Clint rubbed at his stomach through his worn t-shirt, unable to hold back the next yawn when it struck, but he wasn't too worried. He didn't have to be conscious much longer, now that he was so close to his goal.
Sliding into Sam's bed, Clint shivered just a bit at the cool sheets before pulling them up comfortably and shifting until he could curl an arm over his boyfriend's middle. "Morning," he half-whispered, knowing he'd probably woken the other man even as his eyes started to droop.
Sam hummed softly and wrapped an arm around Clint, pulling the man closer. “Mornin’- you just get home darlin’?”
"Mmhm," Clint hummed back, smiling a little despite himself. "Flight was delayed at LAX. Later than I thought I'd be," he muttered, voice soft. "Know you've been havin' a rough time. Lemme know how to help."
Sam breathed slowly out through his nose and then brushed a kiss against Clint’s jaw. “I’ll be fine- might need you to force me to unlax a bit more’n usual but it’ll be alright. But it’s too early to be up, go’t’sleep hon.”
"'m in a totally different timezone," Clint mumbled, but he couldn't actually remember which one his body clock was operating on -- he'd been through three in the last two days. "Missed you."
“‘N yer still sleepy.” Sam teased, a sing-song lilt to his voice. “‘Missed you too.”
"Couldn't sleep on the plane," Clint said. "Good to be home. Smells so much better than airport." Then he realized he hadn't showered before crawling into bed with Sam and he only managed to partially suppress the whine that escaped him. "Ugh, I smell like airport. 'M sorry."
“‘S okay.” Sam mumbled, fighting back a yawn. “I smell like the office.”
"You smell great," Clint said, smiling as he pressed his nose against the side of Sam's neck and loudly inhaled. Then he kissed that spot before moving on to the other side and doing the same exact thing there, too. "So good. And you're warm and not mad at me for waking you up at absurd o'clock in the morning." He slid his hand up the younger man's spine, then right back down to rest at the base, tugging him in even closer.
Sam sighed softly and snuggled closer, pressing soft kisses to the skin within his reach. “‘T be fair,” he hummed. “I thought we was gonna go back to sleep.”
"We can," Clint said, nipping at Sam's earlobe before gently tugging it. "If you want. Couple more hours won't make a difference, probably, since it's already been a couple weeks."
Sam laughed and got a hand in Clint’s hair, tugging until his boyfriend’s head was situated where he could kiss him. “Missed me that much, huh?”
Grinning now, Clint just hummed an affirmative and deepened the kiss. He had missed Sam... missed him in a way that was becoming familiar given the various trips he'd been taking, but that was different from the way he'd felt about his previous partners. He didn't feel like overanalyzing that right now, though, so he focused on his boyfriend and slid his free hand up so he could cradle the younger man's jaw.
Sam hummed softly and pressed into the touch as his free hand slipped under the hem of Clint’s shirt, fingers brushing against the warm skin there. When the kiss broke he sighed happily. “Missed this.”
"Me, too," Clint said, propping himself up on his elbow so he could see Sam better. His hand moved from the small of the younger man's back to his hip, shifting their positions just enough to slot his thigh between Sam's. "A lot," he murmured, leaning back down to kiss him again.
Sam shivered and pulled Clint closer by the shoulders. “You were gone fer too long this time.”
Was he complaining? Maybe a little, but he was well within his rights. Clint had been gone for three weeks.
"Won't agree to another lecture series," Clint promised. Watery morning light was trying to work its way through the blinds on the windows, providing just barely enough light for him to see the logo on the shirt Sam was wearing even as he slipped his hand beneath it. He couldn't rein in his smile as he said, "Hey, is this mine?" The fabric caught at his wrist as he slid his palm over the younger man's abs, then upward.
“Not anymore.” Sam laughed, grinning cheekily as he tugged gently on a strand of Clint’s hair. “Don’ worry, I let ya keep the Dog Cops shirt.”
"Yeah, yeah," Clint said, half-grin still stretching his lips. "So nice of you, letting me keep my own clothes..." He paused for a moment, freeing his hand so he could pull his own shirt off. "Looks good on you, sweetheart."
Sam beamed, faux innocence oozing from every pore as he pulled Clint back down. “Y’know what else looks good on me?…You.”
Shaking his head as he laughed, Clint started making more of an effort to get Sam out of the clothes he had on, whoever they'd belonged to originally. "You're not wrong," he offered, manhandling the sleep pants off his boyfriend at the same time.
If they were going to stay up, anyway, he'd make the absolute most of it.
Note: The FTB is for sexual shenanigans, so if you're not interested in the lead-up to that, don't read the last several tags. :)
Suppressing a yawn after dropping his bags in his suite, Clint closed and locked his door behind him before walking to the suite Sam shared with Jay. It was early enough, he was pretty sure he wouldn't run into the younger Guthrie as he let himself inside, then made his way into Sam's room.
Clint rubbed at his stomach through his worn t-shirt, unable to hold back the next yawn when it struck, but he wasn't too worried. He didn't have to be conscious much longer, now that he was so close to his goal.
Sliding into Sam's bed, Clint shivered just a bit at the cool sheets before pulling them up comfortably and shifting until he could curl an arm over his boyfriend's middle. "Morning," he half-whispered, knowing he'd probably woken the other man even as his eyes started to droop.
Sam hummed softly and wrapped an arm around Clint, pulling the man closer. “Mornin’- you just get home darlin’?”
"Mmhm," Clint hummed back, smiling a little despite himself. "Flight was delayed at LAX. Later than I thought I'd be," he muttered, voice soft. "Know you've been havin' a rough time. Lemme know how to help."
Sam breathed slowly out through his nose and then brushed a kiss against Clint’s jaw. “I’ll be fine- might need you to force me to unlax a bit more’n usual but it’ll be alright. But it’s too early to be up, go’t’sleep hon.”
"'m in a totally different timezone," Clint mumbled, but he couldn't actually remember which one his body clock was operating on -- he'd been through three in the last two days. "Missed you."
“‘N yer still sleepy.” Sam teased, a sing-song lilt to his voice. “‘Missed you too.”
"Couldn't sleep on the plane," Clint said. "Good to be home. Smells so much better than airport." Then he realized he hadn't showered before crawling into bed with Sam and he only managed to partially suppress the whine that escaped him. "Ugh, I smell like airport. 'M sorry."
“‘S okay.” Sam mumbled, fighting back a yawn. “I smell like the office.”
"You smell great," Clint said, smiling as he pressed his nose against the side of Sam's neck and loudly inhaled. Then he kissed that spot before moving on to the other side and doing the same exact thing there, too. "So good. And you're warm and not mad at me for waking you up at absurd o'clock in the morning." He slid his hand up the younger man's spine, then right back down to rest at the base, tugging him in even closer.
Sam sighed softly and snuggled closer, pressing soft kisses to the skin within his reach. “‘T be fair,” he hummed. “I thought we was gonna go back to sleep.”
"We can," Clint said, nipping at Sam's earlobe before gently tugging it. "If you want. Couple more hours won't make a difference, probably, since it's already been a couple weeks."
Sam laughed and got a hand in Clint’s hair, tugging until his boyfriend’s head was situated where he could kiss him. “Missed me that much, huh?”
Grinning now, Clint just hummed an affirmative and deepened the kiss. He had missed Sam... missed him in a way that was becoming familiar given the various trips he'd been taking, but that was different from the way he'd felt about his previous partners. He didn't feel like overanalyzing that right now, though, so he focused on his boyfriend and slid his free hand up so he could cradle the younger man's jaw.
Sam hummed softly and pressed into the touch as his free hand slipped under the hem of Clint’s shirt, fingers brushing against the warm skin there. When the kiss broke he sighed happily. “Missed this.”
"Me, too," Clint said, propping himself up on his elbow so he could see Sam better. His hand moved from the small of the younger man's back to his hip, shifting their positions just enough to slot his thigh between Sam's. "A lot," he murmured, leaning back down to kiss him again.
Sam shivered and pulled Clint closer by the shoulders. “You were gone fer too long this time.”
Was he complaining? Maybe a little, but he was well within his rights. Clint had been gone for three weeks.
"Won't agree to another lecture series," Clint promised. Watery morning light was trying to work its way through the blinds on the windows, providing just barely enough light for him to see the logo on the shirt Sam was wearing even as he slipped his hand beneath it. He couldn't rein in his smile as he said, "Hey, is this mine?" The fabric caught at his wrist as he slid his palm over the younger man's abs, then upward.
“Not anymore.” Sam laughed, grinning cheekily as he tugged gently on a strand of Clint’s hair. “Don’ worry, I let ya keep the Dog Cops shirt.”
"Yeah, yeah," Clint said, half-grin still stretching his lips. "So nice of you, letting me keep my own clothes..." He paused for a moment, freeing his hand so he could pull his own shirt off. "Looks good on you, sweetheart."
Sam beamed, faux innocence oozing from every pore as he pulled Clint back down. “Y’know what else looks good on me?…You.”
Shaking his head as he laughed, Clint started making more of an effort to get Sam out of the clothes he had on, whoever they'd belonged to originally. "You're not wrong," he offered, manhandling the sleep pants off his boyfriend at the same time.
If they were going to stay up, anyway, he'd make the absolute most of it.
