Fic: Targets (NC-17, Avengers: EMH, Steve Rogers/Clint Barton)
Title: Targets
Character(s)/Pairings: Steve Rogers/Clint Barton
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M sex, Frottage, oral
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I do not make any money from this.
Author Note: Written for Porn Battle XII and posted now because I was too lazy to do it earlier. LOL
It was something about the way he carried himself. That sense of having to prove something. With Bucky it was that he deserved to be there; that he was worthy to be fighting with Captain America. Steve knew it wasn't that with Clint. It was that he wanted to be worthy of being a partner again. That he was not the traitor everyone that mattered thought he was. Which was silly as far as Steve’s concerned. Clint got screwed over. He’d proven time and again that he’d have his teammates back, even if he was going to complain about it from time to time.
But it was that need to do something, to prove something that kept Steve interested. Like there was a level he’d missed in this man and if he just took a closer look, he’d figure it out.
“You gonna stand here all day staring at me or are we doing this?” Clint’s voice pulled Steve out of his thoughts and he smiled.
“If you’re sure you can handle it.”
That was all the archer needed, Steve figured. A challenge. Something to hit. Something to prove. A target. Even when they were just sparring he was always looking for the bullseye. Not that Steve opened up for one often, but from time to time, Clint snuck through even Captain America’s defenses.
“So you know what some people said about you, right?” Clint smirked and threw another punch.
Steve blocked it easily but his brow knit together. “About what?”
Clint shrugged. A casual gesture. Something of a feint because he was sure he’d surprise Steve with something. Steve doubted it but, one never really knew. “About sidekicks.”
Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d heard all of this before; in fact, he’d heard all of this well before the man in front of him was even born. But far be it for him to tell Clint Barton anything. “What about sidekicks?”
“Oh,” he swung out again, just avoiding the swoop foot Steve countered with. “You know. Little boys in tight costumes.”
“Clint.”
“What?”
Best, Steve figured to cut this off before it went too far. Besides, nothing like that had ever happened. He wouldn’t have let anything like that happen with Bucky. He was like a brother to Steve. “I never touched Bucky.”
“Oh.” They went back and forth a few more times. Close calls but no major connections until Clint spoke again. “But you do like guys, right?”
Steve’s jaw dropped. It was the in Clint was looking for apparently because he swept Steve’s feet out from under him without missing a beat. Clint had him pinned before he figured out how to speak again. “Wha-how did you--?”
“Relax Cap, it’s not 1940 anymore.” Steve couldn’t stop the blush from coloring his cheeks. It had occurred to him in his most private of moments what it might be like to have Hawkeye in a similar position. But he’d thought… well, he hadn’t thought it was an option really, even with the slightly more permissive views of society at large.
“I thought… I mean I didn’t think you…”
Any questions were silenced as Clint bent down and pressed a rather demanding kiss to Steve’s lips. Before his brain caught up, Steve was kissing back, gripping the nape of Clint’s neck to keep him from breaking the kiss. When his brain did catch back up he moaned softly into the kiss.
Steve found himself blinking up at Clint a few minutes later. “You know, in my day, people asked before they stuck their tongue in your mouth.”
Clint laughed. “Welcome to my day, old man.” He kissed him again, grinding down against Steve’s growing erection and driving a moan from both of them. “God, I am not patient enough to get you upstairs.”
“Maybe you should learn some patience.” Steve knew he was not making his point by thrusting up. But Clint’s hands were frantically pulling at the sweatpants Steve had put on to train. He grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands back. “Slow down, we’ve got time.” He lifted his head and kissed Clint again. “Nobody’s here but us, remember?”
Clint’s eyes flickered closed. “You aren’t helping me slow down, you know.” Steve chuckled again, slipping his hand up over Clint’s thighs and just under the hem of the shorts he was wearing. He felt the muscles under his fingers tremble and knew he’d found a weak spot when Clint moaned his name. Steve, not Cap, not old man… just, “Steve…”
He took the advantage, flipping them over and taking up the same position over Clint; resting lightly on his thighs. “You have to know before we do this…” he frowned and tried to find the right words to get Clint to understand. “Look, I’m not a one night kind of guy.”
Clint smiled and tugged down the waistband of Steve’s pants while wiggling out of his own. “Steve, I want you for as many nights as you’ve got free.” Before Steve could answer, Clint thrust up, rubbing their cocks against each other and driving a moan from Steve’s throat. “And I wanna hear you make that noise as many times as possible.” Clint smirked before thrusting up again.
Steve was almost painfully hard but took some comfort in the fact that Clint seemed to be in a similar state. Every small movement of Clint’s hips seemed to speak volumes. I want you to touch me. You do this to me. He finally reached between them, smearing their pre-come together over their shafts and gently-at first anyway-stroking them both together. Clint groaned, throwing his head back against the mats and thrusting into Steve’s grip and against his cock.
Strings of filthy words and pleas left Clint’s mouth and Steve thrust and stroked and moaned over him. A million ideas of what he wanted to do with and to Steve came out as he writhed. Steve bit his lip, trying to keep some semblance of control until Clint came with a growl that sounded distinctly like his name.
Before Steve had really processed the beautiful look on Clint’s face-and it was beautiful, all gorgeous angles-Clint had him on his back again and was licking a hasty path down his chest. Steve groaned loudly as Clint wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and sucked hard, swirling his tongue in a seemingly pretty desperate attempt to lick Steve clean. “Clint… oh God, yes… I’m…” the words dissolved into an unintelligible cry as Steve came hard and Clint kept sucking and licking until Steve finally had to push him away.
He stared at the man sitting on the mats, licking his lips with a predatory grin on his face and nearly got hard again. His refractory period was short but even he needed a couple minutes.
An idea on what to do in the meantime came to him and he thought his smile might just match Hawkeye’s. “Looks like you could use a shower, soldier.”
Clint chuckled. “You gonna get fresh with me, Cap?”
And there is was again. That need for a target. That need to prove himself. That need to have something to aim at, to hit. Steve smiled. Clint reminded him of Bucky, but not in the ways some people thought he did. Some of this was just pure Hawkeye. Some of this was learning how to be an approachable target.
Character(s)/Pairings: Steve Rogers/Clint Barton
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: M/M sex, Frottage, oral
Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable here. Marvel does. I do not make any money from this.
Author Note: Written for Porn Battle XII and posted now because I was too lazy to do it earlier. LOL
It was something about the way he carried himself. That sense of having to prove something. With Bucky it was that he deserved to be there; that he was worthy to be fighting with Captain America. Steve knew it wasn't that with Clint. It was that he wanted to be worthy of being a partner again. That he was not the traitor everyone that mattered thought he was. Which was silly as far as Steve’s concerned. Clint got screwed over. He’d proven time and again that he’d have his teammates back, even if he was going to complain about it from time to time.
But it was that need to do something, to prove something that kept Steve interested. Like there was a level he’d missed in this man and if he just took a closer look, he’d figure it out.
“You gonna stand here all day staring at me or are we doing this?” Clint’s voice pulled Steve out of his thoughts and he smiled.
“If you’re sure you can handle it.”
That was all the archer needed, Steve figured. A challenge. Something to hit. Something to prove. A target. Even when they were just sparring he was always looking for the bullseye. Not that Steve opened up for one often, but from time to time, Clint snuck through even Captain America’s defenses.
“So you know what some people said about you, right?” Clint smirked and threw another punch.
Steve blocked it easily but his brow knit together. “About what?”
Clint shrugged. A casual gesture. Something of a feint because he was sure he’d surprise Steve with something. Steve doubted it but, one never really knew. “About sidekicks.”
Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d heard all of this before; in fact, he’d heard all of this well before the man in front of him was even born. But far be it for him to tell Clint Barton anything. “What about sidekicks?”
“Oh,” he swung out again, just avoiding the swoop foot Steve countered with. “You know. Little boys in tight costumes.”
“Clint.”
“What?”
Best, Steve figured to cut this off before it went too far. Besides, nothing like that had ever happened. He wouldn’t have let anything like that happen with Bucky. He was like a brother to Steve. “I never touched Bucky.”
“Oh.” They went back and forth a few more times. Close calls but no major connections until Clint spoke again. “But you do like guys, right?”
Steve’s jaw dropped. It was the in Clint was looking for apparently because he swept Steve’s feet out from under him without missing a beat. Clint had him pinned before he figured out how to speak again. “Wha-how did you--?”
“Relax Cap, it’s not 1940 anymore.” Steve couldn’t stop the blush from coloring his cheeks. It had occurred to him in his most private of moments what it might be like to have Hawkeye in a similar position. But he’d thought… well, he hadn’t thought it was an option really, even with the slightly more permissive views of society at large.
“I thought… I mean I didn’t think you…”
Any questions were silenced as Clint bent down and pressed a rather demanding kiss to Steve’s lips. Before his brain caught up, Steve was kissing back, gripping the nape of Clint’s neck to keep him from breaking the kiss. When his brain did catch back up he moaned softly into the kiss.
Steve found himself blinking up at Clint a few minutes later. “You know, in my day, people asked before they stuck their tongue in your mouth.”
Clint laughed. “Welcome to my day, old man.” He kissed him again, grinding down against Steve’s growing erection and driving a moan from both of them. “God, I am not patient enough to get you upstairs.”
“Maybe you should learn some patience.” Steve knew he was not making his point by thrusting up. But Clint’s hands were frantically pulling at the sweatpants Steve had put on to train. He grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands back. “Slow down, we’ve got time.” He lifted his head and kissed Clint again. “Nobody’s here but us, remember?”
Clint’s eyes flickered closed. “You aren’t helping me slow down, you know.” Steve chuckled again, slipping his hand up over Clint’s thighs and just under the hem of the shorts he was wearing. He felt the muscles under his fingers tremble and knew he’d found a weak spot when Clint moaned his name. Steve, not Cap, not old man… just, “Steve…”
He took the advantage, flipping them over and taking up the same position over Clint; resting lightly on his thighs. “You have to know before we do this…” he frowned and tried to find the right words to get Clint to understand. “Look, I’m not a one night kind of guy.”
Clint smiled and tugged down the waistband of Steve’s pants while wiggling out of his own. “Steve, I want you for as many nights as you’ve got free.” Before Steve could answer, Clint thrust up, rubbing their cocks against each other and driving a moan from Steve’s throat. “And I wanna hear you make that noise as many times as possible.” Clint smirked before thrusting up again.
Steve was almost painfully hard but took some comfort in the fact that Clint seemed to be in a similar state. Every small movement of Clint’s hips seemed to speak volumes. I want you to touch me. You do this to me. He finally reached between them, smearing their pre-come together over their shafts and gently-at first anyway-stroking them both together. Clint groaned, throwing his head back against the mats and thrusting into Steve’s grip and against his cock.
Strings of filthy words and pleas left Clint’s mouth and Steve thrust and stroked and moaned over him. A million ideas of what he wanted to do with and to Steve came out as he writhed. Steve bit his lip, trying to keep some semblance of control until Clint came with a growl that sounded distinctly like his name.
Before Steve had really processed the beautiful look on Clint’s face-and it was beautiful, all gorgeous angles-Clint had him on his back again and was licking a hasty path down his chest. Steve groaned loudly as Clint wrapped his lips around the head of his cock and sucked hard, swirling his tongue in a seemingly pretty desperate attempt to lick Steve clean. “Clint… oh God, yes… I’m…” the words dissolved into an unintelligible cry as Steve came hard and Clint kept sucking and licking until Steve finally had to push him away.
He stared at the man sitting on the mats, licking his lips with a predatory grin on his face and nearly got hard again. His refractory period was short but even he needed a couple minutes.
An idea on what to do in the meantime came to him and he thought his smile might just match Hawkeye’s. “Looks like you could use a shower, soldier.”
Clint chuckled. “You gonna get fresh with me, Cap?”
And there is was again. That need for a target. That need to prove himself. That need to have something to aim at, to hit. Steve smiled. Clint reminded him of Bucky, but not in the ways some people thought he did. Some of this was just pure Hawkeye. Some of this was learning how to be an approachable target.