Before you go to priceline to arrange for the hotel room, perhaps you might get a handle on that premature ejaculation problem. You're mad geniuses in a never-ending battle for world domination after all. When the begrudging respect you hold for each other turns to an erotic longing so palpable that you're both willing to postpone death ray construction to find out whether your coupling will make the winters boil and the summers freeze, the whole bang-bang shouldn't dribble away after a few minutes when you mutter, "Oh...uh...oops. I'll get a washcloth."
You guys should fuck on top of a mountain. In fact, you guys should fuck each other with a mountain. Time should stop but if it didn't, you guys fucking would last longer than the span of three generations. The moaning should be mistaken for a summer storm's thunder and if you get bored or sore with one particular position you should go into villages and steal some village elders and fuck each other with them.
Don't come yet.
Now stay genitally conjoined but start beating the living shit out of each other! Spit fire on each other and start talking really breathy and potty-mouthed. God that's hot. Your minions are engaged in battle at the mountain's base and they're almost all dead, just so you know. Now, one of you should ask what the other is thinking about, and the other should lie to spare feelings. Take a break to run to the deli to get some sparkling water and limes, okay? Drink up and then go at it again but lazier this time. Be playful. You have all day before you have to return to your respective secret headquarters underneath their respective riverbeds, so why not make the most of this bed. Say what you feel. There's nothing sexier than communication, you know. It's almost as sexy as searing runes into your lover's thigh with your prosthetic pinky laser.
Remember, eye contact. Happy Call A Truce In Your War Of Wits So That You And Your Arch Enemy Can Fuck Day!