Fic: "Gotta Catch 'em All" (5 of 6), Avengers, Clint/EVERYONE, Steve/Tony, NC-17
Part 5 of 6, we're getting there!
Title: Gotta Catch 'em All (part 5/6)
Fandom: The Avengers
Characters/Pairings: Clint Barton centric. As for the pairings: Clint/Phil, Steve/Tony, Clint/Natasha, Clint/Tony, Clint/Bruce, Clint/Thor, Clint/Steve (yes, I am serious! lol!)
Rating: NC-17 baby
Word count: this chapter: 2 800 words, 20K overall
Summary: A classic 5 times + 1 story. Or maybe not. (aka the working title was "Clint gets some action")
A/N: The fic is complete and I will post the chapters as they come back from my fabulous beta, zelda_zee (thank you so much for such a fantastic job, love!). More notes on chapter 1
Ch.1, 2, 3, 4
Can also be read on AO3
Chapter five: If you want to take me for a ride
It's been a while since Clint let the mess of unrequited feelings that his love life consists of bring him down. He tries not to think about it and he's gotten pretty good at denial (it's just a silly crush, it will go away, he doesn't need anyone in his life anyway). But the thing is, Clint's been carrying a torch for Phil for a long time and in the name of sheer survival he’s mostly found a way to live around it. He’s accepted that there's a pinch in his heart when he daydreams too much, and he’s decided that he's fine with it. Fake it until you make it and all that.
He didn't dream the tension in the corridor and Clint is haunted by the face Phil made and the multiple "what ifs" that come with it. He's not sure he's strong enough to face Phil, though, because getting a definite answer that nothing will ever happen now would be too much to handle. Not making a move has had the advantage that Phil couldn't say 'no' and that Clint could keep on feeding that persistent crush. Maybe it's best if he avoids Phil for a little bit.
A job like theirs, as crazy as it is, unfortunately means that they live in each other pockets, which is why Clint is surprised that the avoiding is pretty easy. It does help that they're not called out for two days in a row, thanks to minor deities for small favors. The mansion is big enough that Clint avoids most everyone, in fact. Even while doing so, it's impossible not to notice Steve and Tony make up. In fact, they are sickeningly cute: Tony has a permanent smile on his face - a real one for a change - and Steve isn't much better. Cap's too much of a good guy to flaunt it in Clint's face, but he does oh so casually keep Tony close whenever they happen to be in the same space; who knew Cap was so possessive? If they seemed joined at the hip before, they are always together now, which puts them in second place of people Clint wants to avoid. Clint isn't an asshole, he's happy for them, and he knew that there would never be more than sex for him with either Cap or Tony, but it contrasts painfully with how lonely he feels. It's been so long since someone cared for him just as much as he did for them.
But work is work and he can't mope around forever, as tempting as it is. When it's been four days and he bumps into Maria Hill at the tower he's ready for some action. Shooting something full of arrows other than targets could be therapeutic.
"Got something for us?" Clint asks brightly.
She smirks and jiggles a couple of files. "Nah, sorry, I just came by to drop this off for Rogers."
And that is... weird because those files are definitely Phil's stuff, he'd recognize the chicken scratch on the tabs anywhere. To Stark's total frustration, there's some stuff Fury and Coulson keep on paper only and if for some reason it's allowed to leave headquarters Phil generally handles it himself.
"Where's Coulson?" he asks reflexively.
"He's on a mission," Maria says, frowning as if she's surprised he doesn't know.
It's the first Clint’s heard of it, and as far as he knows, there was nothing scheduled. Clint doesn't want to jump to conclusions - Fury does send Phil on critical missions now and then - but if Phil asked for it and needed to get away, that's bad.
But there's no mission for him, nothing to keep Clint's mind occupied but training and mindless TV, which leaves him tossing and turning at night as he thinks of all of those times he should have said something to test the waters, when he could have flirted a little more heavily, and how he could have kept it in his pants and not slept with all his colleagues, and how he's fucking tired of pining after someone when it brings nothing but heartbreak.
***
Clint is a bit wary of going down to Tony's workshop, he's not been there since that fateful afternoon, but he's been summoned so it would be weird not to go. The door opens for him without a code again - he's expected after all - and Clint walks right up to Tony who's working in the back, bobbing his head to electronic music with lots of base.
"You wanted to see me?" Clint asks.
Tony beckons him closer and Clint sees that Tony is putting finishing touches on a new uniform for him. It looks basically like his current one - black and purple, sleeveless - but there's a small chrome device on one side.
"Yes, hi," Tony says with a smile when he looks up at him. "I've got this for you."
"The harness?" Clint asks.
Tony nods and gives him the new vest. "Yeah, hidden in the lining. It's mostly what we talked about, but I thought of a thing or two afterwards. I meant to give it to you before, but you've been... scarce."
Clint snorts. "Sorta. Let's just say it's been suggested that I keep my distances." It's mostly true, but it also sounds less pathetic than admitting he's been moping and avoiding Tony on purpose because he can't stand to witness his honeymoon phase with Cap.
Tony frowns and then it dawns on him that it's probably because of his new boyfriend.
"Steve said that?" he asks, surprised.
"Cap's pretty territorial," Clint confirms with a wink and it makes Tony grin.
"Really?" He looks absolutely delighted about that.
"The hickeys didn't clue you in? I thought you were smarter than that." Tony's got a mark that's hidden only when he wears shirts with ties that just won't fade, no matter how many days it's been since Clint first saw it - the day after the workshop tryst in fact.
Tony knows exactly what Clint's talking about because he reflexively brings a hand up to press right on it.
"He's a biter," Tony confirms smugly and okay, Clint really doesn't need to know all about their surely amazing sex life, thank you very much. The guy is genuinely happy for once, though, that much is obvious and Clint realizes that if whatever is going on falls apart, Tony will take it a lot harder than Steve.
"Speaking of sex, Steve told me about how you helped him sort things out," Tony adds with a smirk.
"Did he?" It's surprising that Steve confessed it to Tony, but then not really, knowing the guy.
Tony winks. "You dog."
Clint laughs.
"I lay back and thought of America," Clint says with his most innocent face.
Tony laughs too. "Yeah, right. But thanks. So, do you want to test your brand new toy?"
***
Clint almost jumps out of his skin when Natasha appears out of nowhere and plucks the bud of his StarkPod out of his ear. Jesus, she's a menace to fragile hearts everywhere.
"Really? Damien Rice?" she asks, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. "What's the matter with you?"
Natasha doesn't like meddling, but they've known each other for a long time. Maybe she thinks she's doing him a favor by asking.
"Nothing."
"You’re pathetic. We're taking a couple of days off," she declares.
That is surprising. "What? We can't do that."
She starts pulling on his arm and Clint has to follow or she'll wrench it out of its socket.
"Yes, we can. Steve and Fury already approved it, so let's go pack your bag."
"Nat..." he protests.
"I didn't ask for your opinion," she says.
And that, it seems, is that.
***
In the end they go hiking in the Catskills. They both have their communicators in case something serious happens and knowing SHIELD they'd be back in time to kick ass.
As much as Clint hates to admit it, the change of air does him a lot of good. At the end of the second day, when the campfire is burning nicely, Natasha opens her backpack to produce everything needed to make s’mores. Clint can't help it: he forcibly traps her into a hug while she hits his arms and demands to be let go
"Enough already, ugh!" she protests. "Don't infect me with your feelings!"
"You love me, you really do," Clint teases, squeezing harder.
"I am reconsidering that at the moment," she says with a sigh and Clint kisses her temple before letting her go.
"Thanks," Clint says, hoping he's conveying how much her friendship means to him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, and Clint smirks because Natasha is a great friend, but she hates heart to hearts.
"Nah, it's okay."
And it is. Clint can't continue to beat himself up over this because he cannot change what happened. Having sex with Tony was maybe not his best idea, but it had been fun and they were both single, after all. It's not like he'd cheated on Phil because they had actually never talked about this... possible thing between them.
Natasha claps his leg hard. "Come on, let's put out the fire and turn in."
"Sure," Clint agrees. He's been well trained.
***
Since they formed the Avengers Initiative, it's been all penthouses and five-star hotels instead of crashing in shacks or abandoned houses. Clint's gone soft, but it only takes a noise to wake him up, just as always. It's still dark, and Clint stays immobile, trying to guess what exactly it is he's hearing.
"Five bucks it's a porcupine," Natasha says, voice rough from sleep (or lack of it).
"Mmmm," Clint answers. He knows better than to bet against the girl. "Could be."
The air in the tent is sharp and cold when Clint worms out of his sleeping bag.
"Told you it's nothing," Nat grumbles.
"Well I'm up, I need to take a piss," he tells her.
"No need for details, Barton," she says before burrowing down in her bag.
The horizon is barely lightening, that's how early it is, but Clint is inexplicably awake by now. He won't tell her, but Nat was right because a big ass porcupine ambles off towards the tree line, leaving whatever it was trying to snack on behind. Clint relieves himself and then stops by their dead fire pit for a little while, listening to the sounds of the forest. It's far from silent, but Clint's grown used to the sound of constant traffic and sirens that New York brings and the contrast is enough to make him pause. It's the cold that drives him back in the tent, his worn t-shirt too light to keep the chill away. He's about to crawl in his bag when Nat unzips hers.
"Come here, I'm cold," she demands.
He laughs. "I'm freezing, it won't help any."
Even in the dark he can imagine the eye roll, so he obeys and zips his bag to Nat's before climbing in. They've shared space often enough in the past that he knows to settle down on his back as she curls up at his side, head on his chest. Automatically his arm goes around her shoulders and his other hand to her hair since old habits die hard.
"You are cold, jeez," Nat accuses.
"Sorry," he answers, though he isn't really. She's hot as a furnace, whatever she says.
In contradiction to her words, Nat only snuggles closer, inserting a leg between his. Clint wills his dick to stay down since in recent months when they’ve snuggled it’s been totally platonic, but it's not easy. He's only starting to doze off, lulled by the heat building up around them and the regular rise and fall of her breathing when Nat slides a hand under his t-shirt and starts to rub her thumb back and forth over his ribs. It's subtle, but it's a definite opening and Clint can't help a little laugh.
"I'm starting to wonder... I might have been hit with a pheromone gun or something."
"Mmmm?" Nat all but purrs, her hand wandering to his chest.
"I'm not complaining," Clint adds. He definitely doesn't when Nat lifts up her head so they can kiss. They've been through a lot over the years and Clint genuinely loves her, though he knows they'll never work together as a couple. Too many issues, the both of them, and they are just not looking for the same things in a relationship. Friends with benefits they can do though, when the moment is right. "What do you want, baby?"
That earns him a slap to the back of his head.
"Told you not to call me ‘baby’," Nat says, rolling onto her back and urging him to follow until he lies on top, bracketing her with his arms. He rolls his hips, grinding his erection against her mound, but she pushes firmly on his shoulders in a clear directive to go south. "I want your mouth on me."
You've got to give it to Nat, she knows what she wants and she's not afraid to ask for it. There's been a lot of dick in Clint's recent past, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love fucking women too, and eating pussy is no hardship at all.
The advantage in having slept together on and off for years is that Clint knows exactly how to please Nat and after undressing her he licks and sucks while finger fucking her slowly until she comes with a low moan and a death grip in his hair. She's soaking wet and tastes and smells amazing, so he ignores her protests that it's too sensitive to continues to lick her clit softly until she starts grinding against his face again; he brings her into a second orgasm, even harder than the first. Clint smiles as Natasha flaps a hand towards her bag, her perfect composure shot to hell for once.
"Bag, give me..." she demands, snapping her fingers.
Dutifully Clint pulls her backpack closer and she fishes out a strip of condoms from one of the side pockets.
"Did you plan this?" he teases. "I'm feeling quite abused here."
"Men are wimps and afraid of me, it's getting frustrating," she says, helping him get rid of his shirt, sweats and boxers. She loses no time in rolling the condom on his cock, making Clint gasp. "Now shut up and fuck me."
"Yes ma'am," Clint says, sliding right home and it's so easy, so good.
Natasha moans and starts moving in counter-time with his thrusts, their rhythm steady and slow like a well-oiled machine. As always it's good, great even, and Clint could get lost in this. It only takes a nudge from Nat and they roll over as she begins to ride him, gleaming and beautiful in the soft light that's just starting to brighten the tent. Natasha fucks like she fights, graceful and potentially deadly, and Clint finds himself enthralled at the sight.
"Tell me again why we're not together?" he asks, hands sliding up her sides and going to cup her beautiful breasts, thumbs flicking her hard nipples until she grinds harder on him.
"You know we'd implode. It came close to that before," she pants, fucking herself harder on his cock, taking what she needs from him and he's more than happy to let her.
"Yeah," is the only thing he manages to say. Choosing to salvage their friendship was the best idea they've ever had and they both know it. "I love you," he tells her anyway.
She smiles and bends down to kiss him lightly on the mouth. "I love you too. Now let me do this, I'm about to come," she says.
Clint grins. "Again."
"Yeah, got that right," she says with a laugh. "But this time I'm taking you with me," she promises, clenching around him hard and Clint bucks up. Shit, he's so close now. But that's okay because Natasha is grunting and rolling her clit with her fingers, faster and faster until she cries out and comes again. As predicted Clint follows her right over the edge, the rush of pleasure bright and strong.
It takes them minutes to disengage and get into their usual snuggling position, but by then Clint is almost out already. He notes distantly that it's practically too warm now with the dual whammy of the sleeping bag and Natasha's skin all along his side.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk?" Natasha murmurs into his collarbone, punctuating the question with a jaw-breaking yawn.
Overcome with a strong swell of affection, Clint kisses her forehead.
"No thanks. I'll be okay," he says honestly. Then he can't resist. "Baby."
He gets a vicious pinch to the sensitive skin over his ribs for his smart mouth, but then things go quiet again and he's lulled back to sleep, more content than he's felt in a while.
He will be okay. Eventually.
( chapter 6)
Title: Gotta Catch 'em All (part 5/6)
Fandom: The Avengers
Characters/Pairings: Clint Barton centric. As for the pairings: Clint/Phil, Steve/Tony, Clint/Natasha, Clint/Tony, Clint/Bruce, Clint/Thor, Clint/Steve (yes, I am serious! lol!)
Rating: NC-17 baby
Word count: this chapter: 2 800 words, 20K overall
Summary: A classic 5 times + 1 story. Or maybe not. (aka the working title was "Clint gets some action")
A/N: The fic is complete and I will post the chapters as they come back from my fabulous beta, zelda_zee (thank you so much for such a fantastic job, love!). More notes on chapter 1
Ch.1, 2, 3, 4
Can also be read on AO3
Chapter five: If you want to take me for a ride
It's been a while since Clint let the mess of unrequited feelings that his love life consists of bring him down. He tries not to think about it and he's gotten pretty good at denial (it's just a silly crush, it will go away, he doesn't need anyone in his life anyway). But the thing is, Clint's been carrying a torch for Phil for a long time and in the name of sheer survival he’s mostly found a way to live around it. He’s accepted that there's a pinch in his heart when he daydreams too much, and he’s decided that he's fine with it. Fake it until you make it and all that.
He didn't dream the tension in the corridor and Clint is haunted by the face Phil made and the multiple "what ifs" that come with it. He's not sure he's strong enough to face Phil, though, because getting a definite answer that nothing will ever happen now would be too much to handle. Not making a move has had the advantage that Phil couldn't say 'no' and that Clint could keep on feeding that persistent crush. Maybe it's best if he avoids Phil for a little bit.
A job like theirs, as crazy as it is, unfortunately means that they live in each other pockets, which is why Clint is surprised that the avoiding is pretty easy. It does help that they're not called out for two days in a row, thanks to minor deities for small favors. The mansion is big enough that Clint avoids most everyone, in fact. Even while doing so, it's impossible not to notice Steve and Tony make up. In fact, they are sickeningly cute: Tony has a permanent smile on his face - a real one for a change - and Steve isn't much better. Cap's too much of a good guy to flaunt it in Clint's face, but he does oh so casually keep Tony close whenever they happen to be in the same space; who knew Cap was so possessive? If they seemed joined at the hip before, they are always together now, which puts them in second place of people Clint wants to avoid. Clint isn't an asshole, he's happy for them, and he knew that there would never be more than sex for him with either Cap or Tony, but it contrasts painfully with how lonely he feels. It's been so long since someone cared for him just as much as he did for them.
But work is work and he can't mope around forever, as tempting as it is. When it's been four days and he bumps into Maria Hill at the tower he's ready for some action. Shooting something full of arrows other than targets could be therapeutic.
"Got something for us?" Clint asks brightly.
She smirks and jiggles a couple of files. "Nah, sorry, I just came by to drop this off for Rogers."
And that is... weird because those files are definitely Phil's stuff, he'd recognize the chicken scratch on the tabs anywhere. To Stark's total frustration, there's some stuff Fury and Coulson keep on paper only and if for some reason it's allowed to leave headquarters Phil generally handles it himself.
"Where's Coulson?" he asks reflexively.
"He's on a mission," Maria says, frowning as if she's surprised he doesn't know.
It's the first Clint’s heard of it, and as far as he knows, there was nothing scheduled. Clint doesn't want to jump to conclusions - Fury does send Phil on critical missions now and then - but if Phil asked for it and needed to get away, that's bad.
But there's no mission for him, nothing to keep Clint's mind occupied but training and mindless TV, which leaves him tossing and turning at night as he thinks of all of those times he should have said something to test the waters, when he could have flirted a little more heavily, and how he could have kept it in his pants and not slept with all his colleagues, and how he's fucking tired of pining after someone when it brings nothing but heartbreak.
***
Clint is a bit wary of going down to Tony's workshop, he's not been there since that fateful afternoon, but he's been summoned so it would be weird not to go. The door opens for him without a code again - he's expected after all - and Clint walks right up to Tony who's working in the back, bobbing his head to electronic music with lots of base.
"You wanted to see me?" Clint asks.
Tony beckons him closer and Clint sees that Tony is putting finishing touches on a new uniform for him. It looks basically like his current one - black and purple, sleeveless - but there's a small chrome device on one side.
"Yes, hi," Tony says with a smile when he looks up at him. "I've got this for you."
"The harness?" Clint asks.
Tony nods and gives him the new vest. "Yeah, hidden in the lining. It's mostly what we talked about, but I thought of a thing or two afterwards. I meant to give it to you before, but you've been... scarce."
Clint snorts. "Sorta. Let's just say it's been suggested that I keep my distances." It's mostly true, but it also sounds less pathetic than admitting he's been moping and avoiding Tony on purpose because he can't stand to witness his honeymoon phase with Cap.
Tony frowns and then it dawns on him that it's probably because of his new boyfriend.
"Steve said that?" he asks, surprised.
"Cap's pretty territorial," Clint confirms with a wink and it makes Tony grin.
"Really?" He looks absolutely delighted about that.
"The hickeys didn't clue you in? I thought you were smarter than that." Tony's got a mark that's hidden only when he wears shirts with ties that just won't fade, no matter how many days it's been since Clint first saw it - the day after the workshop tryst in fact.
Tony knows exactly what Clint's talking about because he reflexively brings a hand up to press right on it.
"He's a biter," Tony confirms smugly and okay, Clint really doesn't need to know all about their surely amazing sex life, thank you very much. The guy is genuinely happy for once, though, that much is obvious and Clint realizes that if whatever is going on falls apart, Tony will take it a lot harder than Steve.
"Speaking of sex, Steve told me about how you helped him sort things out," Tony adds with a smirk.
"Did he?" It's surprising that Steve confessed it to Tony, but then not really, knowing the guy.
Tony winks. "You dog."
Clint laughs.
"I lay back and thought of America," Clint says with his most innocent face.
Tony laughs too. "Yeah, right. But thanks. So, do you want to test your brand new toy?"
***
Clint almost jumps out of his skin when Natasha appears out of nowhere and plucks the bud of his StarkPod out of his ear. Jesus, she's a menace to fragile hearts everywhere.
"Really? Damien Rice?" she asks, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. "What's the matter with you?"
Natasha doesn't like meddling, but they've known each other for a long time. Maybe she thinks she's doing him a favor by asking.
"Nothing."
"You’re pathetic. We're taking a couple of days off," she declares.
That is surprising. "What? We can't do that."
She starts pulling on his arm and Clint has to follow or she'll wrench it out of its socket.
"Yes, we can. Steve and Fury already approved it, so let's go pack your bag."
"Nat..." he protests.
"I didn't ask for your opinion," she says.
And that, it seems, is that.
***
In the end they go hiking in the Catskills. They both have their communicators in case something serious happens and knowing SHIELD they'd be back in time to kick ass.
As much as Clint hates to admit it, the change of air does him a lot of good. At the end of the second day, when the campfire is burning nicely, Natasha opens her backpack to produce everything needed to make s’mores. Clint can't help it: he forcibly traps her into a hug while she hits his arms and demands to be let go
"Enough already, ugh!" she protests. "Don't infect me with your feelings!"
"You love me, you really do," Clint teases, squeezing harder.
"I am reconsidering that at the moment," she says with a sigh and Clint kisses her temple before letting her go.
"Thanks," Clint says, hoping he's conveying how much her friendship means to him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, and Clint smirks because Natasha is a great friend, but she hates heart to hearts.
"Nah, it's okay."
And it is. Clint can't continue to beat himself up over this because he cannot change what happened. Having sex with Tony was maybe not his best idea, but it had been fun and they were both single, after all. It's not like he'd cheated on Phil because they had actually never talked about this... possible thing between them.
Natasha claps his leg hard. "Come on, let's put out the fire and turn in."
"Sure," Clint agrees. He's been well trained.
***
Since they formed the Avengers Initiative, it's been all penthouses and five-star hotels instead of crashing in shacks or abandoned houses. Clint's gone soft, but it only takes a noise to wake him up, just as always. It's still dark, and Clint stays immobile, trying to guess what exactly it is he's hearing.
"Five bucks it's a porcupine," Natasha says, voice rough from sleep (or lack of it).
"Mmmm," Clint answers. He knows better than to bet against the girl. "Could be."
The air in the tent is sharp and cold when Clint worms out of his sleeping bag.
"Told you it's nothing," Nat grumbles.
"Well I'm up, I need to take a piss," he tells her.
"No need for details, Barton," she says before burrowing down in her bag.
The horizon is barely lightening, that's how early it is, but Clint is inexplicably awake by now. He won't tell her, but Nat was right because a big ass porcupine ambles off towards the tree line, leaving whatever it was trying to snack on behind. Clint relieves himself and then stops by their dead fire pit for a little while, listening to the sounds of the forest. It's far from silent, but Clint's grown used to the sound of constant traffic and sirens that New York brings and the contrast is enough to make him pause. It's the cold that drives him back in the tent, his worn t-shirt too light to keep the chill away. He's about to crawl in his bag when Nat unzips hers.
"Come here, I'm cold," she demands.
He laughs. "I'm freezing, it won't help any."
Even in the dark he can imagine the eye roll, so he obeys and zips his bag to Nat's before climbing in. They've shared space often enough in the past that he knows to settle down on his back as she curls up at his side, head on his chest. Automatically his arm goes around her shoulders and his other hand to her hair since old habits die hard.
"You are cold, jeez," Nat accuses.
"Sorry," he answers, though he isn't really. She's hot as a furnace, whatever she says.
In contradiction to her words, Nat only snuggles closer, inserting a leg between his. Clint wills his dick to stay down since in recent months when they’ve snuggled it’s been totally platonic, but it's not easy. He's only starting to doze off, lulled by the heat building up around them and the regular rise and fall of her breathing when Nat slides a hand under his t-shirt and starts to rub her thumb back and forth over his ribs. It's subtle, but it's a definite opening and Clint can't help a little laugh.
"I'm starting to wonder... I might have been hit with a pheromone gun or something."
"Mmmm?" Nat all but purrs, her hand wandering to his chest.
"I'm not complaining," Clint adds. He definitely doesn't when Nat lifts up her head so they can kiss. They've been through a lot over the years and Clint genuinely loves her, though he knows they'll never work together as a couple. Too many issues, the both of them, and they are just not looking for the same things in a relationship. Friends with benefits they can do though, when the moment is right. "What do you want, baby?"
That earns him a slap to the back of his head.
"Told you not to call me ‘baby’," Nat says, rolling onto her back and urging him to follow until he lies on top, bracketing her with his arms. He rolls his hips, grinding his erection against her mound, but she pushes firmly on his shoulders in a clear directive to go south. "I want your mouth on me."
You've got to give it to Nat, she knows what she wants and she's not afraid to ask for it. There's been a lot of dick in Clint's recent past, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love fucking women too, and eating pussy is no hardship at all.
The advantage in having slept together on and off for years is that Clint knows exactly how to please Nat and after undressing her he licks and sucks while finger fucking her slowly until she comes with a low moan and a death grip in his hair. She's soaking wet and tastes and smells amazing, so he ignores her protests that it's too sensitive to continues to lick her clit softly until she starts grinding against his face again; he brings her into a second orgasm, even harder than the first. Clint smiles as Natasha flaps a hand towards her bag, her perfect composure shot to hell for once.
"Bag, give me..." she demands, snapping her fingers.
Dutifully Clint pulls her backpack closer and she fishes out a strip of condoms from one of the side pockets.
"Did you plan this?" he teases. "I'm feeling quite abused here."
"Men are wimps and afraid of me, it's getting frustrating," she says, helping him get rid of his shirt, sweats and boxers. She loses no time in rolling the condom on his cock, making Clint gasp. "Now shut up and fuck me."
"Yes ma'am," Clint says, sliding right home and it's so easy, so good.
Natasha moans and starts moving in counter-time with his thrusts, their rhythm steady and slow like a well-oiled machine. As always it's good, great even, and Clint could get lost in this. It only takes a nudge from Nat and they roll over as she begins to ride him, gleaming and beautiful in the soft light that's just starting to brighten the tent. Natasha fucks like she fights, graceful and potentially deadly, and Clint finds himself enthralled at the sight.
"Tell me again why we're not together?" he asks, hands sliding up her sides and going to cup her beautiful breasts, thumbs flicking her hard nipples until she grinds harder on him.
"You know we'd implode. It came close to that before," she pants, fucking herself harder on his cock, taking what she needs from him and he's more than happy to let her.
"Yeah," is the only thing he manages to say. Choosing to salvage their friendship was the best idea they've ever had and they both know it. "I love you," he tells her anyway.
She smiles and bends down to kiss him lightly on the mouth. "I love you too. Now let me do this, I'm about to come," she says.
Clint grins. "Again."
"Yeah, got that right," she says with a laugh. "But this time I'm taking you with me," she promises, clenching around him hard and Clint bucks up. Shit, he's so close now. But that's okay because Natasha is grunting and rolling her clit with her fingers, faster and faster until she cries out and comes again. As predicted Clint follows her right over the edge, the rush of pleasure bright and strong.
It takes them minutes to disengage and get into their usual snuggling position, but by then Clint is almost out already. He notes distantly that it's practically too warm now with the dual whammy of the sleeping bag and Natasha's skin all along his side.
"Are you sure you don't want to talk?" Natasha murmurs into his collarbone, punctuating the question with a jaw-breaking yawn.
Overcome with a strong swell of affection, Clint kisses her forehead.
"No thanks. I'll be okay," he says honestly. Then he can't resist. "Baby."
He gets a vicious pinch to the sensitive skin over his ribs for his smart mouth, but then things go quiet again and he's lulled back to sleep, more content than he's felt in a while.
He will be okay. Eventually.
( chapter 6)