#003 - American Smooth (The Avengers Movieverse, Clint/Steve, PG)
Title: American Smooth
Fandom: The Avengers (Movieverse)
Pairing: Clint/Steve
Rating: PG
Word count: 498
Challenge: #003 Dancing
Steve can’t dance. That’s not really a big deal, the way Clint sees it. Lots of guys can’t dance.
But the way Steve said it, there was this wistfulness to his voice, this hint of sadness in his eyes that he blinked away real quick, but Clint saw just the same.
There’s a story there, Clint can tell. But he can also tell Steve isn’t ready to talk about it, so he won’t push.
Instead, he’d volunteered to teach Steve how.
He’d half-expected Steve to shrug it off as unimportant, but he’d seemed kind of grateful instead, smiled wide and easy.
Steve’s been smiling a lot more these days. The kind of smiles that put the whole team in a good mood, and Clint’s no more immune to them than anyone else.
It obviously means a lot to Steve to learn. Maybe more guys danced back when Steve was a teenager. Old-fashioned romance and all that.
So Clint had offered his services, and now he’s got Steve all pressed up against him.
Clint’s a pro, of course, can keep his focus, make sure Steve doesn’t see how damn distracting he is. He can make sure he keeps his breathing nice and even, that it’s not too obvious his head is spinning a little, surrounded by the fresh smell of Steve’s skin, the heat of his body.
He’s letting Steve take the lead, best way to teach him. Steve’s already picked up the basics, because he’s just that good at all things physical and, oh, there’s a mental path not to go down when they’re touching like this, chest to chest.
The steps are getting a little more complicated now, a little more fancy.
Anyone else would probably ask how he knows all this stuff, but Steve just frowns in concentration and follows Clint’s directions perfectly.
“Coming up for a dip,” Clint says. “You’re gonna be taking a lot of my weight with your right hand, so make sure it’s positioned just below my shoulders.”
It already is, has been since they started because Steve follows orders to a tee.
“Aaaand dip,” Clint instructs when the music reaches a crescendo, lets Steve fold him backwards.
He’s probably a whole lot heavier than any woman Steve’d be dancing with, but Steve’s arms feel secure and steady as they support him.
He’s been looking out over Steve’s shoulder for most of the lesson, but now they’re eye-to-eye, faces close enough to feel each other’s breath.
“And this would be where you go in for a kiss,” Clint smirks. Has no idea why he says it, except the tension is kind of choking him, and he needs to break it somehow.
He’s maybe expecting Steve to laugh or get flustered.
But Steve’s just staring at him, eyes dark, studying him.
Clint isn’t thinking when he leans up, when he presses their mouths together.
There’s no hesitation, just Steve’s lips kissing him back, hungry and insistent.
Around them the music plays on, ignored.
Fandom: The Avengers (Movieverse)
Pairing: Clint/Steve
Rating: PG
Word count: 498
Challenge: #003 Dancing
Steve can’t dance. That’s not really a big deal, the way Clint sees it. Lots of guys can’t dance.
But the way Steve said it, there was this wistfulness to his voice, this hint of sadness in his eyes that he blinked away real quick, but Clint saw just the same.
There’s a story there, Clint can tell. But he can also tell Steve isn’t ready to talk about it, so he won’t push.
Instead, he’d volunteered to teach Steve how.
He’d half-expected Steve to shrug it off as unimportant, but he’d seemed kind of grateful instead, smiled wide and easy.
Steve’s been smiling a lot more these days. The kind of smiles that put the whole team in a good mood, and Clint’s no more immune to them than anyone else.
It obviously means a lot to Steve to learn. Maybe more guys danced back when Steve was a teenager. Old-fashioned romance and all that.
So Clint had offered his services, and now he’s got Steve all pressed up against him.
Clint’s a pro, of course, can keep his focus, make sure Steve doesn’t see how damn distracting he is. He can make sure he keeps his breathing nice and even, that it’s not too obvious his head is spinning a little, surrounded by the fresh smell of Steve’s skin, the heat of his body.
He’s letting Steve take the lead, best way to teach him. Steve’s already picked up the basics, because he’s just that good at all things physical and, oh, there’s a mental path not to go down when they’re touching like this, chest to chest.
The steps are getting a little more complicated now, a little more fancy.
Anyone else would probably ask how he knows all this stuff, but Steve just frowns in concentration and follows Clint’s directions perfectly.
“Coming up for a dip,” Clint says. “You’re gonna be taking a lot of my weight with your right hand, so make sure it’s positioned just below my shoulders.”
It already is, has been since they started because Steve follows orders to a tee.
“Aaaand dip,” Clint instructs when the music reaches a crescendo, lets Steve fold him backwards.
He’s probably a whole lot heavier than any woman Steve’d be dancing with, but Steve’s arms feel secure and steady as they support him.
He’s been looking out over Steve’s shoulder for most of the lesson, but now they’re eye-to-eye, faces close enough to feel each other’s breath.
“And this would be where you go in for a kiss,” Clint smirks. Has no idea why he says it, except the tension is kind of choking him, and he needs to break it somehow.
He’s maybe expecting Steve to laugh or get flustered.
But Steve’s just staring at him, eyes dark, studying him.
Clint isn’t thinking when he leans up, when he presses their mouths together.
There’s no hesitation, just Steve’s lips kissing him back, hungry and insistent.
Around them the music plays on, ignored.