Fic: Moonlight Serenade (Clint/Steve, Adult)
Title: Moonlight Serenade
Pairing: Clint/Steve
Fandom: Avengers (2012)
Summary: Clint models for Steve when he wants to do a series of sketches
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 4650
Beta: florahart & sullacat
A/N: Set in the Fools Rush In verse. Hope y’all enjoy it!
Being a model is pretty hard work. Clint’s always figured it was mostly standing around looking good for photographers or artists, but it’s more difficult than that. He has a new respect for them, that’s for sure. Of course, sitting still doing nothing is at the top of his list of things he hates to do, so that might partially cloud his judgment. When Steve had asked if he’d mind sitting for him so he could work on some sketches, Clint had thought it might be fun. He hadn’t counted on the fact he had to stay completely still or that Steve would get so into his artwork that he’d be ignored.
The music playing is a mix of stuff they both like, but he can’t move his foot to the rhythm or sing along because the one time he tried to do both, Steve snapped at him about being still so he could get the right position for whatever he’s drawing. While that type of command might have normally led to Clint deliberately testing the boundaries by making small movements, he’d seen the way Steve’s lips had turned down and knew he’d probably unconsciously done something to ruin the artistic mood or whatever.
He doesn’t understand all that creative shit, really, but he knows he doesn’t like being the cause of those frowns. So he’s remained perfectly still and just tried to convince his brain that he’s not really in his own apartment but on a mission where one movement might lead to his target noticing him. When he’s on assignment, he can spend hours, even days, silent and still because he concentrates and focuses. In his real life, so to speak, he likes moving and isn’t that great at being still. Even when he reads, he tends to do something with his hands or feet.
The worst thing, even more so than being still, is that he can’t watch Steve draw. This is the fourth pose he’s been put into, and none of them have put Steve in his line of vision. Instead, he’s standing by the window with his face turned in profile and all he can stare at is the movie poster on the wall beneath their loft or the glare of the lowering sun shining off the windows of the building across from theirs. That means he’s memorized just about everything on the Casablanca poster, from the folds of Ilsa’s dress to the lines on Rick’s face. He’d much rather watch Steve lose himself in his art, get that intensity in his eyes and the way his nose crinkles just a little and how he bites the right corner of his bottom lip when he’s really getting into a drawing.
“Okay. I think I’ve got this one,” Steve says. “Do you need to use the bathroom or get something to drink, sweetheart? That one took me longer than I expected.”
Clint relaxes and rolls his neck before rubbing his shoulder. “I might grab a snack, if that’s okay.” He hums along to Wish You Were Here as he walks away from the window. “You want anything?”
“Of course it’s okay.” Steve removes the canvas drawing pad he’s got on the easel Tony gave him and stacks it with the back facing out like the others he’s done today. Clint hasn’t been able to see any of the drawings he’s done, not yet, but he figures Steve will show him when he’s got them ready. “And, yes, I could use some food. I’ve got to go pee first, though, because I’ve been trying to hold it for the last hour. I just didn’t want to lose the light because I want to try to capture that with the watercolors when I add them later and I knew I’d lose it if I moved.”
“Go piss and I’ll make some sandwiches.” Clint doesn’t really get the whole art thing, not enough to understand when Steve starts rambling about technical aspects, but he knows light is important for the photographs Steve’s been taking as reference shots. The stuff he’s working on today isn’t just the quick sketches he fills his book with. These are more complicated, bigger and on canvases that can be framed eventually, and he’s been excited about trying watercolors and paints instead of just pencil.
It’s a little weird to him that Steve’s chosen him as the first subject for the paintings he’s planning, but Clint is flattered. Steve always seems to make him look attractive when he draws him and that’s nothing to complain about, even if he doesn’t really see himself the way Steve does. Of course, Steve doesn’t see himself like Clint does, so maybe that’s just human nature or love or both. He’s not bothered by it. If it didn’t require being so completely still, he wouldn’t mind spending most of the afternoon and evening letting Steve draw him.
When Steve comes back from the bathroom, Clint’s finishing up a plate of sandwiches for them. “Feel better?” he asks, sliding a can of orange soda pop across the kitchen island towards Steve. They don’t keep much in their own kitchen, since they generally eat with the others in the big kitchen, but he’s glad they have enough for some sandwiches without having to leave the apartment.
“Much. This looks good, Clint. You want to crash on the sofa to eat? I know you must be sore from standing for all that time. Time got away from me, or I would have made sure you had a break.” Steve smiles wryly. “Next time, you need to get my attention and pull me out of the art fog if that happens.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I just pretended I was on an assignment.” Clint shrugs a shoulder before picking up his plate and can of soda pop. “The couch sounds a lot comfier than the chairs in the dining area, so I vote for that.”
Steve groans. “Damn, you definitely should have said something if this is making you wish you were on an assignment instead.” He follows Clint to the sofas and sits down next to him. “We’ll just do one more tonight, okay? And I want to you have fun with it, so I’m not just selfishly focusing on my artwork instead of you, too.”
“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, babe. I know how eager you are to get started with the paints and doing larger canvases.” Clint takes a bite of his sandwich and leans into Steve. “If I really had a problem, I’d let you know. I will say that I have a new appreciation for what models must deal with. It’s a lot more involved than just standing around looking pretty.”
“At least you’ve got the looking pretty part down,” Steve says, laughing softly. “I know there’s nothing wrong with being selfish, but not at the expense of your comfort.” He kisses Clint’s jaw. “Besides, I’m the one who had you take your shirt off for that tableau, and I know I got distracted trying to get every detail correct.”
“Distracted, huh?” Clint grins as he flexes his arm. “I’m just glad you didn’t go shirtless, too, or there’s no way I could have focused on anything but ogling you.”
Steve snorts. “You look at me like I’m naked no matter what I’m wearing. I don’t think clothes prevent ogling where you’re concerned, sweetheart.”
“I’m just talented that way.” Clint smirks before finishing off his first sandwich. “I can’t wait for winter. You’ll be wearing all those layers, and I’ll be able to peel them off of you every night. Scarves, gloves, sweaters…I thought about that last winter, you know? But I didn’t have the right to do what I wanted to do.”
“When it’s cold, your cheeks and nose are always a lovely shade of pink. I lost count of how often I wanted to reach over and warm you up,” Steve admits, ducking his head as he starts to eat his second sandwich. “That was after I’d finally admitted to myself that I was feeling something for you.”
Clint wonders sometimes how much time they lost by being unaware and oblivious to how they were both feeling about each other, but he tries not to dwell on that because he doesn’t waste time with regrets. In his life, he’d never be able to live for the day or think of the future if he let the past drag him down. Still, he can’t deny that they lost time because they had their heads up their asses.
“I don’t even know when I stopped looking at you as friend Steve and started thinking of you as hot guy I wanted to date Steve. It just happened, and I was pretty surprised by the ‘date’ instead of ‘fuck’ since dating’s never been my thing.” Clint finishes his last sandwich and takes a few gulps of orange soda pop. “Hell, I honestly didn’t know if I was even cut out for relationships at all. The last few months have shown me I was wrong, though.”
“I knew I was in trouble when I started having sex dreams.” Steve laughs when Clint arches a brow at him. “You might remember that I wasn’t the one who wanted to move slowly once we got physical. So, yes, dreaming about making love with you wasn’t something I could really explain away like I did the other things I noticed.”
“Well, I guess we’re lucky that Thor’s got a big mouth or we might still be stuck with only dreams instead of the real thing.” Clint puts his plate on the table before leaning back against the sofa and just looking at Steve. “I prefer reality, even with how you’re always kicking the covers off and picking up my clothes before I have time to hang them up myself.”
“You’re so hot that I don’t need extra covers. It’s like sleeping with a furnace some nights,” Steve murmurs, giving Clint a slight smile. “And if I didn’t hang your clothes up, they’d probably still be lying there because you get distracted by stuff and forget. You also still constantly leave your wet toothbrush on the vanity instead of putting it back in the holder.”
Clint laughs. “You squeeze the middle of the toothpaste tube, so don’t even bring up bad bathroom habits. I could also mention wet towels that you leave on the floor when you get distracted.”
“That’s your fault,” Steve says primly. “If you didn’t look so good naked and wet, I’d be more responsible after a shower.”
“Finish your sandwiches. I’m hitting the bathroom then I’ll be ready for the next pose.” Clint kisses Steve’s cheek before he gets up and heads to the toilet. He feels better now that they’ve had a chance to relax and it isn’t just one pose after another with quiet Steve being all artistic.
When he gets back to the living room, Steve’s cleaned up their sandwich plates and has also taken off his shirt. He’s just wearing a pair of loose sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low on his hips. Clint clears his throat and makes a motion at the bare skin. Steve slowly smiles and flexes. “I want you to take off those jeans for the next drawing, so I thought it only fair that I show some skin, too.”
“Fair is good. You do realize that it’s going to be incredibly tough to sit still and not stare at you, right?”
“There’ll be a reward for you when I’m done if you can make it to the end without moving.”
“Incentive, babe? How sneaky you are.”
“I’ve learned from the best, sweetheart.”
Clint grins. “I am the best when it comes to motivating my Steve.”
“Yes, you are. Now strip down. I’m trying to decide where I want you. The sun has set, but I was thinking of the balcony. Just enough light through the window to see your features, and I think the shadows could be fun to play with when I paint.” Steve starts talking to himself about paint and charcoal, so Clint just tunes him out as he gets more artsy.
While Steve’s trying to decide where to have Clint pose, Clint takes his jeans and underwear off. He doesn’t mind being naked usually, but it’s different when he knows Steve takes pictures to help with the painting, and he’s not sure how anyone, even Steve, could look at the scars and marks on his body and think those were worthy of being drawn. Sure, he’d taken off his shirt, but the pose had been more of a profile, the one opposite the scar on his ribs, so it hadn’t really bothered him.
He runs a hand over his face and tries to shake off the doubts. This is a fucking awful time for the insecurities to rise up and nag at him. If it was just Steve, he wouldn’t be feeling this way. He’s over all that, especially after Steve spent hours one night kissing and licking every mark on his body. It’s the drawing that’s got him feeling anxious, and he knows that yet still can’t get over it.
“No one is ever going to see this one, right?” He hates to interrupt Steve’s creative process, but he needs to ease the tension in his mind so he can relax and get into this pose.
“Huh?” Steve looks at him and blinks. “Oh, I don’t plan on sharing this one. The others, I’m not sure. I’ve been debating whether I feel ready to show my artwork,” he admits quietly. “I know you and Pepper seem very supportive of the idea, but it’s frightening to consider letting people see something that’s so personal to me.”
“I think you’re amazingly talented, and you capture people so realistically in your work. It seems a shame to keep that to yourself, never letting anyone else share in it with you, but I’m not an artist.” Clint walks over to Steve and leans up to kiss him lightly. “I don’t know what it must be like to put a part of yourself on display like that, so you need to do what feels right for you. I’ll support you regardless of what you choose.”
“I know you do.” Steve kisses him gently and strokes the curve of his ass. “Okay. I need to finish this last drawing before I get too distracted. I’ve decided that I want you on the balcony. Can you grab the pillows off the sofa and bring them out?” He goes to the linen closet and returns with a blanket.
Clint looks from the emerald blanket to the burgundy pillows and smiles. The colors are good together, which just shows how good Steve’s eye is when it comes to colors. “So, this one is for your eyes only. That’s good. I was, uh, well, nervous about anyone else seeing it.”
“Why?” Steve looks at him. “You’re gorgeous, Clint. That’s one reason I wouldn’t want other people seeing it.” He gives Clint a possessive look that makes his dick twitch.
“It’s nothing important. It doesn’t matter since strangers won’t be looking at it.” Clint feels foolish for worrying in the first place. He should have known that Steve isn’t going to want people staring at his naked body, not even for art. When he sees Steve still staring at him, he rolls his eyes. “Seriously, it’s nothing more than an awkward moment of insecurity.”
“Moments of insecurity are important, sweetheart.” Steve spreads the blanket on the balcony, and crooks his finger at Clint. “Come here.”
Clint throws one of the pillows at him before walking over and dropping the other pillows. “I have a feeling we’re going to have a hot summer this year. It’s already pretty warm, and it’s just spring,” he says, sitting down on the blanket and sprawling out.
“Wow. Weather talk. You must really want to change the subject.” Steve kneels down between his legs. “I know how insecurities can be, so I’m not going to force you to talk about it. I’m just going to pose you.” He reaches out to stroke his hand down Clint’s chest. “I want you to lie back against the pillows and crook your arm for me. Rest your chin in your palm and look towards my easel.”
“I’m supposed to stare at you without moving?” Clint shakes his head. “If I’m successful at this? It better be a damn good reward.”
“It will be.” Steve smiles at him and positions his legs and even gently moves his dick to rest against his thigh. He leaned in and licked Clint’s lips. “I want them glistening for me. God, you’re breathtaking. Never doubt that.”
“If you keep touching and licking me, there’s no way a certain part of my body is going to remain still.” Clint gives him a warning look that just makes him laugh.
“I think you’re good for now.” Steve winks at him as he stands up and walks over to his easel. The digital camera has the flash on when he takes several photos for reference, but he seems satisfied with whatever he sees as he reviews them. Steve nods once and puts the camera down before he picks up his pencil and starts sketching, staring at Clint in a way that makes it difficult to breathe. Now that Clint’s actually looking at him, he sees what he probably missed during the other sittings.
It’s strange to be lying on the balcony naked, but not unpleasant. It’s not like there’s any danger of being seen from this angle, and there’s a slight breeze in the air that ruffles his hair when it blows. The music is still playing from their apartment, something from the far past with horns and piano, and the light from the glass door is all they have to see by. The moon is out, but there are clouds and it’s only a half moon, so there isn’t much light even when the clouds float past it. Still, there’s enough light for Steve to see by and for Clint to be able to watch him while he works.
He isn’t sure how much time passes as Steve sketches. The balcony is pretty hard, even with the blanket and pillows, but Clint isn’t uncomfortable. He’s not thinking about much of anything except the way he feels when Steve looks at him. When Steve makes a low noise, it’s startling because Clint’s been focused on his mouth and just remaining still. He raises his gaze to find Steve staring at him intently.
“Move the hand that’s on your hip,” Steve says, his voice husky and deep. “Wrap your fingers around your dick, at the base. Just like that, Clint. Don’t do anything else. Just hold your erection for me.”
Clint swallows and has to lick his lips, but he manages to obey. He’s hard, which isn’t much of a surprise, and it feels good to touch his dick. There’s an urge to stroke until he comes, but Steve said to just hold, so that’s what he does. Thank God no one else is going to see this painting. Not for reasons of insecurity but because it appears that Steve’s planning to incorporate his arousal into the drawing.
Steve keeps drawing, looking at Clint and then filling the air with the sound of his pencil scratching at the paper. Clint knows it’s not as loud as it sounds, but he’s just so focused on Steve that it sounds louder. “Move your thumb across the head of your dick,” Steve murmurs, staring at Clint’s face then looking down his body. It feels almost like he’s touched him, which makes Clint’s dick twitch again.
“Steve, please,” he whispers, feeling the muscles in his arm tense as he resists the urge to start jerking himself off.
“Shh sweetheart. Just move your thumb for me. That’s a good boy. Get the head wet. Fuck.” A flash erupts in the darkness and Steve lowers the camera. “I had to get this image. You don’t even know…”
“Just don’t upload it to some amateur site or put it anywhere Tony can get it if he hacks the system,” Clint murmurs, trying to speak without moving his face or mouth in a way that ruins the pose.
“No one is going to see these,” Steve growls.
Clint bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling because it always feels good when Steve gets protective. He moves his thumb over the head of his dick and spreads his pre-come while watching Steve. It’s annoying when Steve manages to resist him and just goes back to sketching, so Clint takes it up a notch. He tries to project as much seduction as he can into his eyes as he stares at him. For a second, the moment is almost ruined when he hears Tyra Banks telling him to smize and tooch his booty if he wants to be sexy, but he fortunately gets that voice out of his head before he loses the sex appeal he’s going for.
When he notices Steve staring more than drawing, he lazily moves his thumb back and forth over the head of his dick. He’s extremely careful not to move anything else, but Steve did give him permission to move his thumb. It’s not cheating so much as taking advantage of the moment. “See something you like, babe?”
“This isn’t being a good boy,” Steve points out. “Stop moving your thumb. Just hold it right like that, and stop looking at me like you want sex now.”
“I do want sex now, though. And I’ve never claimed to be a good boy, as you well know.”
“If you’d stop tempting me, I’d be able to get this finished. I’m losing my focus when you stare at me that way.”
“Considering the way you’ve been staring at me, I think that’s only fair. I’m starting to feel objectified, like nothing more than a piece of meat.”
“Bruce seems to think you’d be happy that I’m a meat eater.”
“Why are you and Bruce talking about my meat?”
“We weren’t discussing your meat, specifically. Damn it, Clint. Stop distracting me. I’m trying to concentrate.”
Clint can’t resist smiling at that. “Sorry,” he says even though he isn’t sorry at all.
“No, you aren’t.”
“No, I’m not.”
Steve shakes his head but makes a good attempt at focusing on his canvas. Clint decides to stop pushing because he doesn’t really want to piss him off or anything. He’s just horny and tired of being still. Finally, Steve puts down his pencil and walks around the easel. “I don’t know if you deserve a reward or not,” he murmurs, dropping to his knees when he reaches the edge of the blanket.
“I didn’t move anything you didn’t tell me to move. I so deserve that reward, Steve Rogers, and you know it.” Clint is relieved that he can move again, and he pouts up at Steve even as he shakes his arm to restore feeling in it.
“Maybe.” Steve kisses him hard, claiming his mouth as he pushes Clint back against the pillows. There’s no pretense of going slow and gentle, not this time. His hands touch Clint everywhere, stroking and squeezing, and Clint responds by wrapping his leg around Steve and scratching his back before shoving his sweatpants down.
“You’re so hard.” Clint bucks up against him seeking friction. Their dicks slide against each other as they grind together. When Steve pulls back from the kiss, Clint whines and tries to pull him back down.
“Time for your reward, sweetheart.” Steve grins down at him before he attacks his neck, licking and sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin in his favorite spot to mark before he moves his mouth lower. He scrapes his teeth against Clint’s nipples, which makes him writhe beneath him because Steve knows exactly what to do to get the most reaction now. He also takes detours along the way to kiss the scars on Clint’s chest and nuzzle his belly button.
“Suck me, babe. I want to see my dick in your mouth,” he says, gripping Steve’s hair and pushing him down lower. Steve just laughs and keeps going at his own pace. When he finally starts to lick Clint’s dick, he’s too far gone to talk dirty or say anything except Steve’s name and more and deeper. The feeling of Steve’s finger pressing against his ass makes him tense, and he blinks down to see Steve watching his face even as he sucks his dick. Clint licks his lips and takes a few deep breaths before he feels himself relax enough for Steve to press the finger inside him.
They’ve done this a few times, Steve using his fingers, but Clint still has to make the effort to let it happen at the beginning. It’s easier than it has been, though, because he knows Steve makes him feel good and doesn’t take more than he’s willing to give. He just has to focus on Steve, which helps him loosen up and enjoy it. Soon enough, Steve’s easing a second finger inside him and rubbing his sweet spot while sucking harder and taking more of his dick into his mouth.
“Steve, gonna…” Clint manages to get the warning out as he thrusts up into Steve’s mouth, knowing he’s close, so close. Steve keeps sucking, and a dazed look down lets him see that he’s still watching Clint’s face. It’s too much. Clint comes with a soft groan, his hips jerking as his eyes roll back while Steve swallows his release.
“Gorgeous,” Steve whispers, his voice hoarse and wrecked. He kisses Clint as he rolls them over and manhandles Clint into a position so he can grind against him. Clint goes willingly, feeling slack and lazy now that he’s come so hard. The kisses are wet and messy and perfect, and he finally gets the energy to reach between them and stroke Steve’s dick.
“Come for me, babe,” he murmurs, kissing Steve’s face and rubbing their jaws together before kissing his neck. He strokes more firmly and bites down on Steve’s shoulder, knowing what gets him off the fastest when they’re this far gone. Steve whines and arches up, wet sticky spilling on his hand and their bodies as he comes. Clint doesn’t let go until Steve’s fingers wrap around his wrist and pull his hand away.
Steve kisses him again, slow and lazy as they shift against each other and get more comfortable. Clint can feel the hard floor of the balcony under the soft blanket, but he doesn’t have the energy to suggest moving somewhere more comfortable. Steve shifts beneath him and grumbles. “We can’t fall asleep out here or we’ll both be sore.”
“My hip’s already going to be sore from lying out here for ages while you got your artist on,” he points out. “You so owe me a massage.”
“Poor baby. I’ll kiss it better later, when I’m no longer a pile of goo from coming so hard. You’re lethal, sweetheart.” Steve kisses him again. “Now quit whining and lie back with me. We’ll pretend that we can actually see the stars.”
Clint sticks his tongue out before he laughs. “I’m not whining,” he denies, shifting around so he’s lying against Steve’s side with one of Steve’s arms behind his head acting as a pillow. He feels content lying here in the dark looking at the sky with the man he loves while Ella sings about paper moons. He smiles as he snuggles closer to Steve and entwines their fingers together to rest on Steve’s belly. He kisses Steve’s chest before he promises, “One day, we’ll take a trip outside the city so we really can see the stars and fall asleep beneath them.”
End
Pairing: Clint/Steve
Fandom: Avengers (2012)
Summary: Clint models for Steve when he wants to do a series of sketches
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 4650
Beta: florahart & sullacat
A/N: Set in the Fools Rush In verse. Hope y’all enjoy it!
Being a model is pretty hard work. Clint’s always figured it was mostly standing around looking good for photographers or artists, but it’s more difficult than that. He has a new respect for them, that’s for sure. Of course, sitting still doing nothing is at the top of his list of things he hates to do, so that might partially cloud his judgment. When Steve had asked if he’d mind sitting for him so he could work on some sketches, Clint had thought it might be fun. He hadn’t counted on the fact he had to stay completely still or that Steve would get so into his artwork that he’d be ignored.
The music playing is a mix of stuff they both like, but he can’t move his foot to the rhythm or sing along because the one time he tried to do both, Steve snapped at him about being still so he could get the right position for whatever he’s drawing. While that type of command might have normally led to Clint deliberately testing the boundaries by making small movements, he’d seen the way Steve’s lips had turned down and knew he’d probably unconsciously done something to ruin the artistic mood or whatever.
He doesn’t understand all that creative shit, really, but he knows he doesn’t like being the cause of those frowns. So he’s remained perfectly still and just tried to convince his brain that he’s not really in his own apartment but on a mission where one movement might lead to his target noticing him. When he’s on assignment, he can spend hours, even days, silent and still because he concentrates and focuses. In his real life, so to speak, he likes moving and isn’t that great at being still. Even when he reads, he tends to do something with his hands or feet.
The worst thing, even more so than being still, is that he can’t watch Steve draw. This is the fourth pose he’s been put into, and none of them have put Steve in his line of vision. Instead, he’s standing by the window with his face turned in profile and all he can stare at is the movie poster on the wall beneath their loft or the glare of the lowering sun shining off the windows of the building across from theirs. That means he’s memorized just about everything on the Casablanca poster, from the folds of Ilsa’s dress to the lines on Rick’s face. He’d much rather watch Steve lose himself in his art, get that intensity in his eyes and the way his nose crinkles just a little and how he bites the right corner of his bottom lip when he’s really getting into a drawing.
“Okay. I think I’ve got this one,” Steve says. “Do you need to use the bathroom or get something to drink, sweetheart? That one took me longer than I expected.”
Clint relaxes and rolls his neck before rubbing his shoulder. “I might grab a snack, if that’s okay.” He hums along to Wish You Were Here as he walks away from the window. “You want anything?”
“Of course it’s okay.” Steve removes the canvas drawing pad he’s got on the easel Tony gave him and stacks it with the back facing out like the others he’s done today. Clint hasn’t been able to see any of the drawings he’s done, not yet, but he figures Steve will show him when he’s got them ready. “And, yes, I could use some food. I’ve got to go pee first, though, because I’ve been trying to hold it for the last hour. I just didn’t want to lose the light because I want to try to capture that with the watercolors when I add them later and I knew I’d lose it if I moved.”
“Go piss and I’ll make some sandwiches.” Clint doesn’t really get the whole art thing, not enough to understand when Steve starts rambling about technical aspects, but he knows light is important for the photographs Steve’s been taking as reference shots. The stuff he’s working on today isn’t just the quick sketches he fills his book with. These are more complicated, bigger and on canvases that can be framed eventually, and he’s been excited about trying watercolors and paints instead of just pencil.
It’s a little weird to him that Steve’s chosen him as the first subject for the paintings he’s planning, but Clint is flattered. Steve always seems to make him look attractive when he draws him and that’s nothing to complain about, even if he doesn’t really see himself the way Steve does. Of course, Steve doesn’t see himself like Clint does, so maybe that’s just human nature or love or both. He’s not bothered by it. If it didn’t require being so completely still, he wouldn’t mind spending most of the afternoon and evening letting Steve draw him.
When Steve comes back from the bathroom, Clint’s finishing up a plate of sandwiches for them. “Feel better?” he asks, sliding a can of orange soda pop across the kitchen island towards Steve. They don’t keep much in their own kitchen, since they generally eat with the others in the big kitchen, but he’s glad they have enough for some sandwiches without having to leave the apartment.
“Much. This looks good, Clint. You want to crash on the sofa to eat? I know you must be sore from standing for all that time. Time got away from me, or I would have made sure you had a break.” Steve smiles wryly. “Next time, you need to get my attention and pull me out of the art fog if that happens.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I just pretended I was on an assignment.” Clint shrugs a shoulder before picking up his plate and can of soda pop. “The couch sounds a lot comfier than the chairs in the dining area, so I vote for that.”
Steve groans. “Damn, you definitely should have said something if this is making you wish you were on an assignment instead.” He follows Clint to the sofas and sits down next to him. “We’ll just do one more tonight, okay? And I want to you have fun with it, so I’m not just selfishly focusing on my artwork instead of you, too.”
“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, babe. I know how eager you are to get started with the paints and doing larger canvases.” Clint takes a bite of his sandwich and leans into Steve. “If I really had a problem, I’d let you know. I will say that I have a new appreciation for what models must deal with. It’s a lot more involved than just standing around looking pretty.”
“At least you’ve got the looking pretty part down,” Steve says, laughing softly. “I know there’s nothing wrong with being selfish, but not at the expense of your comfort.” He kisses Clint’s jaw. “Besides, I’m the one who had you take your shirt off for that tableau, and I know I got distracted trying to get every detail correct.”
“Distracted, huh?” Clint grins as he flexes his arm. “I’m just glad you didn’t go shirtless, too, or there’s no way I could have focused on anything but ogling you.”
Steve snorts. “You look at me like I’m naked no matter what I’m wearing. I don’t think clothes prevent ogling where you’re concerned, sweetheart.”
“I’m just talented that way.” Clint smirks before finishing off his first sandwich. “I can’t wait for winter. You’ll be wearing all those layers, and I’ll be able to peel them off of you every night. Scarves, gloves, sweaters…I thought about that last winter, you know? But I didn’t have the right to do what I wanted to do.”
“When it’s cold, your cheeks and nose are always a lovely shade of pink. I lost count of how often I wanted to reach over and warm you up,” Steve admits, ducking his head as he starts to eat his second sandwich. “That was after I’d finally admitted to myself that I was feeling something for you.”
Clint wonders sometimes how much time they lost by being unaware and oblivious to how they were both feeling about each other, but he tries not to dwell on that because he doesn’t waste time with regrets. In his life, he’d never be able to live for the day or think of the future if he let the past drag him down. Still, he can’t deny that they lost time because they had their heads up their asses.
“I don’t even know when I stopped looking at you as friend Steve and started thinking of you as hot guy I wanted to date Steve. It just happened, and I was pretty surprised by the ‘date’ instead of ‘fuck’ since dating’s never been my thing.” Clint finishes his last sandwich and takes a few gulps of orange soda pop. “Hell, I honestly didn’t know if I was even cut out for relationships at all. The last few months have shown me I was wrong, though.”
“I knew I was in trouble when I started having sex dreams.” Steve laughs when Clint arches a brow at him. “You might remember that I wasn’t the one who wanted to move slowly once we got physical. So, yes, dreaming about making love with you wasn’t something I could really explain away like I did the other things I noticed.”
“Well, I guess we’re lucky that Thor’s got a big mouth or we might still be stuck with only dreams instead of the real thing.” Clint puts his plate on the table before leaning back against the sofa and just looking at Steve. “I prefer reality, even with how you’re always kicking the covers off and picking up my clothes before I have time to hang them up myself.”
“You’re so hot that I don’t need extra covers. It’s like sleeping with a furnace some nights,” Steve murmurs, giving Clint a slight smile. “And if I didn’t hang your clothes up, they’d probably still be lying there because you get distracted by stuff and forget. You also still constantly leave your wet toothbrush on the vanity instead of putting it back in the holder.”
Clint laughs. “You squeeze the middle of the toothpaste tube, so don’t even bring up bad bathroom habits. I could also mention wet towels that you leave on the floor when you get distracted.”
“That’s your fault,” Steve says primly. “If you didn’t look so good naked and wet, I’d be more responsible after a shower.”
“Finish your sandwiches. I’m hitting the bathroom then I’ll be ready for the next pose.” Clint kisses Steve’s cheek before he gets up and heads to the toilet. He feels better now that they’ve had a chance to relax and it isn’t just one pose after another with quiet Steve being all artistic.
When he gets back to the living room, Steve’s cleaned up their sandwich plates and has also taken off his shirt. He’s just wearing a pair of loose sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low on his hips. Clint clears his throat and makes a motion at the bare skin. Steve slowly smiles and flexes. “I want you to take off those jeans for the next drawing, so I thought it only fair that I show some skin, too.”
“Fair is good. You do realize that it’s going to be incredibly tough to sit still and not stare at you, right?”
“There’ll be a reward for you when I’m done if you can make it to the end without moving.”
“Incentive, babe? How sneaky you are.”
“I’ve learned from the best, sweetheart.”
Clint grins. “I am the best when it comes to motivating my Steve.”
“Yes, you are. Now strip down. I’m trying to decide where I want you. The sun has set, but I was thinking of the balcony. Just enough light through the window to see your features, and I think the shadows could be fun to play with when I paint.” Steve starts talking to himself about paint and charcoal, so Clint just tunes him out as he gets more artsy.
While Steve’s trying to decide where to have Clint pose, Clint takes his jeans and underwear off. He doesn’t mind being naked usually, but it’s different when he knows Steve takes pictures to help with the painting, and he’s not sure how anyone, even Steve, could look at the scars and marks on his body and think those were worthy of being drawn. Sure, he’d taken off his shirt, but the pose had been more of a profile, the one opposite the scar on his ribs, so it hadn’t really bothered him.
He runs a hand over his face and tries to shake off the doubts. This is a fucking awful time for the insecurities to rise up and nag at him. If it was just Steve, he wouldn’t be feeling this way. He’s over all that, especially after Steve spent hours one night kissing and licking every mark on his body. It’s the drawing that’s got him feeling anxious, and he knows that yet still can’t get over it.
“No one is ever going to see this one, right?” He hates to interrupt Steve’s creative process, but he needs to ease the tension in his mind so he can relax and get into this pose.
“Huh?” Steve looks at him and blinks. “Oh, I don’t plan on sharing this one. The others, I’m not sure. I’ve been debating whether I feel ready to show my artwork,” he admits quietly. “I know you and Pepper seem very supportive of the idea, but it’s frightening to consider letting people see something that’s so personal to me.”
“I think you’re amazingly talented, and you capture people so realistically in your work. It seems a shame to keep that to yourself, never letting anyone else share in it with you, but I’m not an artist.” Clint walks over to Steve and leans up to kiss him lightly. “I don’t know what it must be like to put a part of yourself on display like that, so you need to do what feels right for you. I’ll support you regardless of what you choose.”
“I know you do.” Steve kisses him gently and strokes the curve of his ass. “Okay. I need to finish this last drawing before I get too distracted. I’ve decided that I want you on the balcony. Can you grab the pillows off the sofa and bring them out?” He goes to the linen closet and returns with a blanket.
Clint looks from the emerald blanket to the burgundy pillows and smiles. The colors are good together, which just shows how good Steve’s eye is when it comes to colors. “So, this one is for your eyes only. That’s good. I was, uh, well, nervous about anyone else seeing it.”
“Why?” Steve looks at him. “You’re gorgeous, Clint. That’s one reason I wouldn’t want other people seeing it.” He gives Clint a possessive look that makes his dick twitch.
“It’s nothing important. It doesn’t matter since strangers won’t be looking at it.” Clint feels foolish for worrying in the first place. He should have known that Steve isn’t going to want people staring at his naked body, not even for art. When he sees Steve still staring at him, he rolls his eyes. “Seriously, it’s nothing more than an awkward moment of insecurity.”
“Moments of insecurity are important, sweetheart.” Steve spreads the blanket on the balcony, and crooks his finger at Clint. “Come here.”
Clint throws one of the pillows at him before walking over and dropping the other pillows. “I have a feeling we’re going to have a hot summer this year. It’s already pretty warm, and it’s just spring,” he says, sitting down on the blanket and sprawling out.
“Wow. Weather talk. You must really want to change the subject.” Steve kneels down between his legs. “I know how insecurities can be, so I’m not going to force you to talk about it. I’m just going to pose you.” He reaches out to stroke his hand down Clint’s chest. “I want you to lie back against the pillows and crook your arm for me. Rest your chin in your palm and look towards my easel.”
“I’m supposed to stare at you without moving?” Clint shakes his head. “If I’m successful at this? It better be a damn good reward.”
“It will be.” Steve smiles at him and positions his legs and even gently moves his dick to rest against his thigh. He leaned in and licked Clint’s lips. “I want them glistening for me. God, you’re breathtaking. Never doubt that.”
“If you keep touching and licking me, there’s no way a certain part of my body is going to remain still.” Clint gives him a warning look that just makes him laugh.
“I think you’re good for now.” Steve winks at him as he stands up and walks over to his easel. The digital camera has the flash on when he takes several photos for reference, but he seems satisfied with whatever he sees as he reviews them. Steve nods once and puts the camera down before he picks up his pencil and starts sketching, staring at Clint in a way that makes it difficult to breathe. Now that Clint’s actually looking at him, he sees what he probably missed during the other sittings.
It’s strange to be lying on the balcony naked, but not unpleasant. It’s not like there’s any danger of being seen from this angle, and there’s a slight breeze in the air that ruffles his hair when it blows. The music is still playing from their apartment, something from the far past with horns and piano, and the light from the glass door is all they have to see by. The moon is out, but there are clouds and it’s only a half moon, so there isn’t much light even when the clouds float past it. Still, there’s enough light for Steve to see by and for Clint to be able to watch him while he works.
He isn’t sure how much time passes as Steve sketches. The balcony is pretty hard, even with the blanket and pillows, but Clint isn’t uncomfortable. He’s not thinking about much of anything except the way he feels when Steve looks at him. When Steve makes a low noise, it’s startling because Clint’s been focused on his mouth and just remaining still. He raises his gaze to find Steve staring at him intently.
“Move the hand that’s on your hip,” Steve says, his voice husky and deep. “Wrap your fingers around your dick, at the base. Just like that, Clint. Don’t do anything else. Just hold your erection for me.”
Clint swallows and has to lick his lips, but he manages to obey. He’s hard, which isn’t much of a surprise, and it feels good to touch his dick. There’s an urge to stroke until he comes, but Steve said to just hold, so that’s what he does. Thank God no one else is going to see this painting. Not for reasons of insecurity but because it appears that Steve’s planning to incorporate his arousal into the drawing.
Steve keeps drawing, looking at Clint and then filling the air with the sound of his pencil scratching at the paper. Clint knows it’s not as loud as it sounds, but he’s just so focused on Steve that it sounds louder. “Move your thumb across the head of your dick,” Steve murmurs, staring at Clint’s face then looking down his body. It feels almost like he’s touched him, which makes Clint’s dick twitch again.
“Steve, please,” he whispers, feeling the muscles in his arm tense as he resists the urge to start jerking himself off.
“Shh sweetheart. Just move your thumb for me. That’s a good boy. Get the head wet. Fuck.” A flash erupts in the darkness and Steve lowers the camera. “I had to get this image. You don’t even know…”
“Just don’t upload it to some amateur site or put it anywhere Tony can get it if he hacks the system,” Clint murmurs, trying to speak without moving his face or mouth in a way that ruins the pose.
“No one is going to see these,” Steve growls.
Clint bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling because it always feels good when Steve gets protective. He moves his thumb over the head of his dick and spreads his pre-come while watching Steve. It’s annoying when Steve manages to resist him and just goes back to sketching, so Clint takes it up a notch. He tries to project as much seduction as he can into his eyes as he stares at him. For a second, the moment is almost ruined when he hears Tyra Banks telling him to smize and tooch his booty if he wants to be sexy, but he fortunately gets that voice out of his head before he loses the sex appeal he’s going for.
When he notices Steve staring more than drawing, he lazily moves his thumb back and forth over the head of his dick. He’s extremely careful not to move anything else, but Steve did give him permission to move his thumb. It’s not cheating so much as taking advantage of the moment. “See something you like, babe?”
“This isn’t being a good boy,” Steve points out. “Stop moving your thumb. Just hold it right like that, and stop looking at me like you want sex now.”
“I do want sex now, though. And I’ve never claimed to be a good boy, as you well know.”
“If you’d stop tempting me, I’d be able to get this finished. I’m losing my focus when you stare at me that way.”
“Considering the way you’ve been staring at me, I think that’s only fair. I’m starting to feel objectified, like nothing more than a piece of meat.”
“Bruce seems to think you’d be happy that I’m a meat eater.”
“Why are you and Bruce talking about my meat?”
“We weren’t discussing your meat, specifically. Damn it, Clint. Stop distracting me. I’m trying to concentrate.”
Clint can’t resist smiling at that. “Sorry,” he says even though he isn’t sorry at all.
“No, you aren’t.”
“No, I’m not.”
Steve shakes his head but makes a good attempt at focusing on his canvas. Clint decides to stop pushing because he doesn’t really want to piss him off or anything. He’s just horny and tired of being still. Finally, Steve puts down his pencil and walks around the easel. “I don’t know if you deserve a reward or not,” he murmurs, dropping to his knees when he reaches the edge of the blanket.
“I didn’t move anything you didn’t tell me to move. I so deserve that reward, Steve Rogers, and you know it.” Clint is relieved that he can move again, and he pouts up at Steve even as he shakes his arm to restore feeling in it.
“Maybe.” Steve kisses him hard, claiming his mouth as he pushes Clint back against the pillows. There’s no pretense of going slow and gentle, not this time. His hands touch Clint everywhere, stroking and squeezing, and Clint responds by wrapping his leg around Steve and scratching his back before shoving his sweatpants down.
“You’re so hard.” Clint bucks up against him seeking friction. Their dicks slide against each other as they grind together. When Steve pulls back from the kiss, Clint whines and tries to pull him back down.
“Time for your reward, sweetheart.” Steve grins down at him before he attacks his neck, licking and sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin in his favorite spot to mark before he moves his mouth lower. He scrapes his teeth against Clint’s nipples, which makes him writhe beneath him because Steve knows exactly what to do to get the most reaction now. He also takes detours along the way to kiss the scars on Clint’s chest and nuzzle his belly button.
“Suck me, babe. I want to see my dick in your mouth,” he says, gripping Steve’s hair and pushing him down lower. Steve just laughs and keeps going at his own pace. When he finally starts to lick Clint’s dick, he’s too far gone to talk dirty or say anything except Steve’s name and more and deeper. The feeling of Steve’s finger pressing against his ass makes him tense, and he blinks down to see Steve watching his face even as he sucks his dick. Clint licks his lips and takes a few deep breaths before he feels himself relax enough for Steve to press the finger inside him.
They’ve done this a few times, Steve using his fingers, but Clint still has to make the effort to let it happen at the beginning. It’s easier than it has been, though, because he knows Steve makes him feel good and doesn’t take more than he’s willing to give. He just has to focus on Steve, which helps him loosen up and enjoy it. Soon enough, Steve’s easing a second finger inside him and rubbing his sweet spot while sucking harder and taking more of his dick into his mouth.
“Steve, gonna…” Clint manages to get the warning out as he thrusts up into Steve’s mouth, knowing he’s close, so close. Steve keeps sucking, and a dazed look down lets him see that he’s still watching Clint’s face. It’s too much. Clint comes with a soft groan, his hips jerking as his eyes roll back while Steve swallows his release.
“Gorgeous,” Steve whispers, his voice hoarse and wrecked. He kisses Clint as he rolls them over and manhandles Clint into a position so he can grind against him. Clint goes willingly, feeling slack and lazy now that he’s come so hard. The kisses are wet and messy and perfect, and he finally gets the energy to reach between them and stroke Steve’s dick.
“Come for me, babe,” he murmurs, kissing Steve’s face and rubbing their jaws together before kissing his neck. He strokes more firmly and bites down on Steve’s shoulder, knowing what gets him off the fastest when they’re this far gone. Steve whines and arches up, wet sticky spilling on his hand and their bodies as he comes. Clint doesn’t let go until Steve’s fingers wrap around his wrist and pull his hand away.
Steve kisses him again, slow and lazy as they shift against each other and get more comfortable. Clint can feel the hard floor of the balcony under the soft blanket, but he doesn’t have the energy to suggest moving somewhere more comfortable. Steve shifts beneath him and grumbles. “We can’t fall asleep out here or we’ll both be sore.”
“My hip’s already going to be sore from lying out here for ages while you got your artist on,” he points out. “You so owe me a massage.”
“Poor baby. I’ll kiss it better later, when I’m no longer a pile of goo from coming so hard. You’re lethal, sweetheart.” Steve kisses him again. “Now quit whining and lie back with me. We’ll pretend that we can actually see the stars.”
Clint sticks his tongue out before he laughs. “I’m not whining,” he denies, shifting around so he’s lying against Steve’s side with one of Steve’s arms behind his head acting as a pillow. He feels content lying here in the dark looking at the sky with the man he loves while Ella sings about paper moons. He smiles as he snuggles closer to Steve and entwines their fingers together to rest on Steve’s belly. He kisses Steve’s chest before he promises, “One day, we’ll take a trip outside the city so we really can see the stars and fall asleep beneath them.”
End