She watched the slow and steady drip from the machine and flicked her gaze back to him, amused as the realisation hit him and shrugging a singular shoulder. Natasha wasn’t one to deny the bodily urges when they reared their heads. They made a good way of relaxing when she was restless - it was the same reason she and Steve sparred late into the night. A way to give her body the exhaustion her mind needed.
❝ A couch, really? For a pretty girl? I thought you were better than that when it came to ladies. I’d heard better from round HQ. Maybe it’s the lack of caffeine. Do you need it to-you know-get it up? Or are you embarrassed to have a lady caller? ❞
the coffee was taking far too damn long, Brock found himself almost lulled off to a sleep as he watched the steady drips into his cup. His fingers tap against the counter slowly, his heart rate picking up just the slightest. Okay, well, obviously she was just trying to bait him…right? She couldn’t possibly be thinking about staying in his bed and having sex with him…
‴Well, I was jus’ suggesting, thought you wouldn’t wanna share a bed with mister Bones over here.‴ Yes, he just called himself mister Bones.
Brock squints a bit at her jab, the man turning to face her, a hand going out to point his finger at her. ‴I can get it up jus’ fine. It’s jus’ that if you fuckin’ insist you come over at fuckin’ three in the morning, I need coffee t’ stay up.‴
Insult his apartment, insult his choice of socks and matching boxers–but don’t assume he can’t get his dick up when the situation arises. Was that stupid? Probably? Did Brock think it was? No. He thought with his dick, especially at three A.M.
