Natasha's movement had her wriggle against him a bit, and Clint hissed quietly, trying to push certain associations out of his head. Before this could go from harmless to being completely dead for that meeting tomorrow. Unfortunately he could seldom resist watching when Natasha demonstrated just how flexible she was.

Grumbling to himself, he reached for the remote once it was close enough and shut the TV cold.
When his hand returned, it made its way down Natasha's pants all by itself again, stopping definitely a little lower this time.

"Hm-hm. Dirty old man, that's what you got yourself for a partner."