"We're master spies. I think we should be able to handle it."

Soon enough the dough was ready for Natasha to decorate it however she wanted it and Clint placed the baking tray next to her on the counter with a little blush. No, not perfect but sufficing. Without bothering to wash his flour-covered hands, he put his hands on her hips and rested his chin on her shoulder to peer down at what she was doing and all the nice stuff she had prepared. Slowly he felt his appetite returning instead of just being physically hungry, and he just couldn't resist snatching one of the cheese strings from the chopping board.

Oh, but that was a bad idea, now his stomach really woke up and grumbled for more. He decided to put his mouth to better use and covered Natasha's neck and shoulders with soft kisses instead, completely ignoring the fact that she was still busy.