Something so vanilla shouldn't have Clint so worked-up. It's been a while, and still he doesn't have any trouble relaxing for Thor's hands. And Thor has a seriously impressive dick, too, which isn't exactly dampening any of Clint's enthusiasm. He has his hand on that thick length before he really thinks about it; he's a flexible guy, he can wrap his legs around Thor's waist, and cant his hips up properly and glide his hand along Thor's length and kiss Thor, albeit somewhat clumsily.

Yeah, Clint's a multitasker. A multitasker who really likes thinking about how it will feel to have Thor's hammer, so to speak, inside him.

But he goes shuddery and still when Thor presses into him. "Fuck," he breathes, "fuck, fuck," because his lack of a sex life is now catching up with him. He aches, and his body's too tense, gripping too tight. Fights to breathe, and he grips Thor's arm, for once unafraid of bruising his partner by holding too hard.

It hurts. He likes it. He really wishes, in fact, that Thor would hold him down and just take, and that want fucking scares him.

"I'll remember," he breathes, "that gods are very well-endowed." Clint himself is thoroughly average, maybe a little below, but it's never been a problem for him. He makes up for it in other ways.