( he groans, not at the fact that bobbi slides into bed with him, not at the fact that she makes herself comfortable in his space. no, at that, he snakes an arm behind and around her. it's awkward and a little ungainly, but it's enough to hold her against him.
the groan is at the assertion that he smells like pastries. never once in his life had he thought he'd go to bed smelling like croissants. or pain au raisins. or whatever. )
I hate it, ( he tells her. it's the same way clint hates a lot of things, none of them anything he actually hates but things it's easy to be mock-offended by. things it's easy to grouse and whine about. ) At this rate, I'm never gonna smell like me again.
[The way he grumbles sometimes is endearing. She shifts a little bit to adjust so her cheek can rest against his shoulder and drapes a long leg across his torso just to get comfortable.]
Lucky for you, it doesn't bother me. [Her tone is fond, teasing, making it obvious she doesn't think that her opinion should over rule his own about his body.]
I read in some book somewhere that toting around flour bags as a baker will make you all buff too, I think it was that Hunger Games thing?
( he starts to huff a breath to serve as a laugh when she says it doesn't bother her, uses his knees as an anchor for the leg she stretches across him, turns his head to press his lips against the top of her head, before stopping and— ) What? ( abrupt surprise, mock offence. "will make you buff", she says, like— )
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the groan is at the assertion that he smells like pastries. never once in his life had he thought he'd go to bed smelling like croissants. or pain au raisins. or whatever. )
I hate it, ( he tells her. it's the same way clint hates a lot of things, none of them anything he actually hates but things it's easy to be mock-offended by. things it's easy to grouse and whine about. ) At this rate, I'm never gonna smell like me again.
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Lucky for you, it doesn't bother me. [Her tone is fond, teasing, making it obvious she doesn't think that her opinion should over rule his own about his body.]
I read in some book somewhere that toting around flour bags as a baker will make you all buff too, I think it was that Hunger Games thing?
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Are you saying I'm not buff?
( excuse. )
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[She grumbles playfully and snuggles down into his arms because she is making herself at home with this difficult man. ]
You've always had a great set of arms, babe. Or do you need me to kiss them and make them betting for hurting their feelings?